Rise Apocalypse: Chapter 12
The slow transformation of days to weeks happened gradually and without notice. Altair grew used to the three outsiders and their presence in shops, bars and other stores. The city was always warm, standing still as the community within it moved and breathed as one. It didn’t take long for Hae, Hyuk and Sungmin to fall in line with the rest of the Timechasers. In modern fashion they fit in well enough, although they lacked the taste for lace and velvet that everyone else seemed to have. They saw nothing of Kyuhyun and even less of Leeteuk, both of them concealed within the secretive, quiet walls of The Manor. Despite the domestic setting and rich, luxurious opulence, Donghae was lying in a bed of unease. Almost every moment of every day he felt watched. When he was working, shoving through hay or driving one of the massive tractors, he would pause and glance around him, searching for signs of someone watching him. He could not sleep, for lying next to Hyuk in bed at night was silent torture. For nights on end he’d strike up lanterns and wake Hyuk up, swearing there was someone in the room with them, only for his partner to get completely pissed off and tell him to go back to sleep, that he was paranoid.
Paranoid he may have been, but he could not ignore what was there. It was unbearable and Hyuk was furious. They hadn’t taken hebia together in weeks and it was the longest Hae had been without it.
“Shisus, Hae, you’re insufferable!” He’d shouted one night after Hae had pulled away from him. “How long do you intend to keep this up?”
“I’m sorry,” Hae had tried. “I just can't, not when I know we’re being watched like this, it’s maddening.”
“There’s no one,” Hyuk’s tone gently persuasive.
“You’re blind,” Hae accused him, shaking his head with frustration. “You’re completely, totally blind. How can you not see? How can you not feel him?”
“Feel who?”
When Hae rolled over, pulling the blankets up to his chin, it took a moment for Hyuk to recede. Eventually, he heard a soft sigh before the mattress creaked as Hyuk readjusted himself for sleep. As ignorant as Eunhyuk was to the truth, Hae could see. He saw him in his dreams, never face-to-face, but his presence lingered on the blurred edges of consciousness. He saw him in the shadows as they moved in the darkness of the hallways and back alleys, lurking in the black corners of the waking world. He saw him in everything, poised and ready, but for what Donghae could not know.
Sungmin didn’t work on the farm with them. For a reason unbeknownst to Hae and Hyuk, Kangin kept their friend close. They’d go on walks together, eat together, shop together, and the King was buying him everything, bringing him presents of great expense. It was driving Sungmin crazy.
“I’ve never owned so much useless crap in all my life,” he said one morning over breakfast. “When he figured out I like the color pink he took that to mean that I like lace and frills and silk, too. My room looks fit for a fucking princess.”
“Aw, Minnie!” Hyuk cooed at him, “Maybe you are his princess!”
Sungmin buried his head in his hands. As of late, he’d been wearing clothes Kangin picked out for him and heavy jewelry of expensive quality. That morning, it was a sleeveless pink top made of fine silk that shimmered slightly in the light and belted around the waist. To say the least, it was hideous. Not even the dulled white leather bracelets he’d put on could give it masculinity.
“He treats me like an ohza,” Sungmin moaned from between the arch of his hands around his forehead. “He always wants me to tell him about Garahim and I’m running out of stories. I’m afraid to even mention the Giedi; whatever masculinity I’ve somehow managed to hold on to will be completely destroyed.”
“Sungmin, you’re totally manly!” Hae offered.
Across the table, Hyuk smiled. “You’re the very picture of machismo!”
Hae reached over and squeezed one of their friend’s biceps, which actually was defined, and got his hand slapped in retaliation.
Hyuk impaled a link of sausage with his fork and chomped down on it deviously, saying, “So.” Open mouthed, he chewed. “Are you two fucking?”
Hae shot him a piercing look.
Sungmin lifted back up and began to push food around his plate. “No, but I have a feeling that is where this is going. This is textbook human courtship.”
Hyuk made a face, “Gross. I bet he’ll spend, like, an hour stretching you before he puts it in.”
“Someone should tell him Sungmin likes it rough,” Hae suggested with a smile, only half-joking.
“Shisus, I don’t want to sleep with Kangin! At all!” Min pushed his plate away before sitting back and crossing his arms, looking slightly petulant. He shrugged. “Although it has been a long time. I’m starting to feel weak and I think he’s catching on to that.”
“You know,” Hyuk leaned over the edge of the table. “Hae and I haven’t done it in like a month, so if you want, I don’t think he’d mind if you and I--”
“Eunhyuk!” Hae kicked him under the table, making his knee jerk and knock the surface from beneath. “Seriously?!”
“I was just joking!” Hyuk reached down to rub his shin, a pained expression on his face. “That really hurt! You’re wearing the steel-toed boots, too.”
Sungmin was looking between them, completely perplexed. “I’m sorry, am I missing something? Wait, you guys aren’t taking it?!”
“Well,” Hyuk began. “It’s just that--”
He abruptdly cut off, staring at the doorway. When he stood, Hae and Min took the hint and did so as well, turning around to see who had entered the dining room during their conversation. It was Kyuhyun. He was staring pointedly at Sungmin, even when all three of them bowed low to greet him. When they raised, he walked into the room, directly up to Min.
“What is it, little one?” Sungmin asked, trying a smile.
The keinling’s brows pushed together, creating tiny creases of displeasure in his forehead.
“Don’t call me that,” he said, his tone commanding respect even as his lips pulled down in a frown. “Only Teukie can call me that. You are to call me 'My Prince’ from now on, is that understood?”
Sungmin’s expression gave away his surprise, but even as it merged with irritation his eyes showed a spark of amusement lying dormant. His tone revealed as much when he said, “Yes, My Prince” and bowed, ever so slightly.
Kyuhyun bustled himself together, standing as tall as he could, which really only brought him up a little higher than half of Min’s height.
“Just so you know,” said the young Prince, “you’ll never replace him. Teukie knows everything, he has visions. He says you’re evil, that you’re just going to try to take over. But you’ll never be able to! My dad is the strongest, smartest, most powerful King in Jiscada!”
Hyuk leant into Hae and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “He’s the only King in Jiscada.”
Kyuhyun’s vision snapped away from Sungmin and focused completely on Hyuk, who froze under the keinling’s icy glare. Taking two strides, the Timechaser Prince marched over to them and slammed the toe of his clogged foot, hard, into Hyuk’s ankle. His face had been crinkled with childish anger, but a satisfied grin smoothed it over when Eunhyuk yelped and grabbed at his wounded foot. Right before Kyuhyun turned around and marched, calmly, out of the dining hall, Hae saw him cast an unguarded sideways glance back at Sungmin.
Min was staring at the door, recently stormed through. “What a brat.”
“Tell me about it!” Hyuk, all but hopping on one leg. “I’m probably going to bruise!”
Hae rolled his eyes, “Who would have guessed that the Great Eunhyuk was so easily defeated?”
“Sungmin?” A voice from the doorway on the other side of the room, this time deeper and more commanding.
Kangin was wobbling precariously on two feet, shot through with drink that clouded his eyes, which were looking rather haunted as it was. He didn’t seem to notice that Hae and Hyuk were in the room, his attention completely absorbed by Sungmin, who was looking surprised, even as he bowed.
“Yes, Your Grace?” the Jezbenite asked quietly, slightly nervous.
Something about the King was off-putting, It might have been the way he was palming the edge of the dining table, like one of Heechul’s cats when it was making a bed to lay in. Or maybe it was his jaw, loose with a mouth that couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be parted or closed hard and tight with nerves. Either way, his voice gave away his distress when next he spoke, revealing in the watery tones emotion that neither Hae nor Hyuk had seen from him. And judging by the way Sungmin was staring at him as if he was The First himself, neither had their friend.
“Can I,” Kangin cleared his throat. “I need to speak with you, just for a moment.”
Sungmin tossed an anxious look at Hae, but when his eyes returned to the King they were hardened with resolve. He straightened his spine before speaking, his fingers rubbing themselves into his palms, clenching and unclenching by his sides.
“Okay. Yes, that’s fine.”
Together, they disappeared behind closed doors and Hae thought for the first time since arriving in Altair, that he was finally catching on.
For the rest of that day Sungmin disappeared. Hae and Hyuk worked separately, unconcerned about their friend, who they thought would reappear for dinner that night. They were wrong. They ate alone, just the two of them together. Dinner was simple for once, a casually-clothed affair with a stew of pork and eggs that Hae poked at and Hyuk shoveled ungracefully into the open cavern of his mouth. Hae watched him eat for awhile before Hyuk paused mid-bite and looked up. He had grains of rice stuck to his cheeks and a half-chewed piece of meat smashed between his teeth, but Hae still thought he looked good. Hae always thought Hyuk looked good. He was stuffed into tight leather, the sleeves of his jacket full of muscles and stretched taught over broad shoulders. It had been difficult to work that day. Hae was trying to fight the weakness brought on from not having taken hebia in a month, but it was proving to be an almost impossible task. Where Hyuk was eating for strength, Hae had absolutely no appetite. Twice he had almost passed out onto his hoe as he was plowing the soil in The Manor’s garden and he was forbidden from driving the tractors because his vision was beginning to fail him. Worse, he was aroused almost all the time. One look at Hyuk and he’d get almost instantly hard.
“What is it?” Hyuk asked him before swallowing the food he’d been chewing.
His voice sounded so sexualized to Hae, which didn’t make any sense because it had been such a basic, conversational question. Staring at the dip Hyuk’s shirt made between the open folds of his jacket, Hae was acutely aware of the shadow in the hollow of his throat, the solid press of his collarbones jutting out from under his skin. He wanted to run his tongue along the outline of them, to suck wetly at his neck until it reddened under his lips. Donghae wanted so badly he would have thrown his bowl across the room and crawled over the table on his hands and knees, but he shook his head to rid himself of the idea.
Hyuk was smirking.
You want to fuck me?
Hae gave him a dark look. Don’t, Hyuk.
Hae, I want it. Its been such a long time and--
Seriously, Eunhyuk, stop.
Hyuk jumped up, then, knocking his glass of milk over and causing his chair to screetch against the wooden floor.
“Enough!” He yelled, voice carrying outside. “Who was the one who said all those things?”
“Eunhyuk, please--”
“No! You talked about how I was the one who wouldn’t be able to deal with your feelings, but you’re the one who won’t face them!”
Hae was rushed with emotion. All of Hyuk’s frustration was being shot through his body, winding around his heart like chains and squeezing tight. Fear was taking hold of him, but of what he couldn’t pinpoint. Fear that they were being watched was the obvious one. Fear of the unknown, fear of what might happen because of it. Beneath that, there was the fear that Hyuk was going to leave him. It had been a thought brewing in the undercurrents of all his actions for months, an inevitable truth that Hae had been loath to face or even consider. The harsh reality of the end was staring him in the face, had been doing so for Shisus knew how long. The end was upon them and as it filled Hae’s throat and nose and made his eyes burn, Hae tried to keep himself from drowning.
He was determined to stay seated, even as Hyuk loomed above him. He kept his hands at his sides, clutching the edge of his seat with white-knuckled strength.
“Donghae,” his voice had quieted, soft and gentle. “Donghae, look at me.”
But he couldn’t, because he’d give in.
“Donghae, fucking look at me when I need you to!”
Reluctantly, Hae lifted his eyes and saw the uncertainty, the confusion and the weakness etched into Hyuk’s features. His eyes were afraid, just as afraid as Hae was.
“You haven’t touched me since I told you how I felt,” he whispered. “You pull away from me when I reach out to you. You shudder as if you can’t bear to feel my warmth. Were you lying when you said those things? I didn’t want to say them at all but you pulled them from me, Hae! You practically forced me to confess my feelings and for what? To use them against me? To rub them in my face? To mock me?” His eyes hardened and his mouth set. Hae could feel him pulling back and away, pulling out. “To kill me? Are you trying to kill me?”
Hae had had enough, “Don’t be fucking melodramatic, Hyuk! Obviously I’m not trying to kill you!”
“I’m dying!” his voice was too loud and sharp, the tail ends of his words echoing against the corners of the walls. “We’re both dying. Ipsuren can’t live without hebia. How much longer did you intend to hold on? I can’t do this. I can’t be with just anyone anymore, Hae. You’ve ruined me.”
Hyuk’s chest was shuttering as he gasped inhales, fighting tears and the weakness they’d reveal. It was hard for Hae to listen to the truth when it was spoken aloud by the one person who meant everything.
“Even if we go our separate ways,” Hyuk’s voice was quieter, shaking with certainty and the fact that every syllable of every word was honest and real, “whenever someone else will touch me, I will think of you. If anyone else ever kisses me, I will hate how they won’t taste of you. Even if someday I forget your face, I will never lose the sound of your voice. I’ve been alive for more than sixty years and known you only a little over one, but the time we’ve spent together has ruined me for one thousand. You are all I want, Donghae. All I will ever want. Nothing will ever be good enough, except you.”
Donghae’s body was petrified stone in his seat, his heart a lump of coal. Across the table, Hyuk was radiating warmth and light, but Hae could only feel cold.
“Please, Hae,” Hyuk whispered. “I’m begging you not to do this. Don’t pull away from me.”
Hae swallowed. “I don’t want to pull away from you, Hyuk.”
His partner chanced a smile, slight and frail.
“But we can’t do this anymore.”
He watched the table as it shuttered and shook with the force of Hyuk’s emotions. The crystals of the chandelier clinked together above them and suddenly the puddle of strawberry milk spread out across the table and seemed as wide as an ocean. Hae looked at it and wondered if he should mop it up. When he noticed the shaking had stopped, he glanced back up at where Eunhyuk had been standing and found that he was alone.
For the first time in a year, he was completely alone.
When Hae dragged himself back up to their room an hour later, Hyuk’s things were gone and Leeteuk was sitting on the edge of their bed. It was the first time he’d seen Kangin’s spiritual advisor since they’d first arrived in Disanji and he looked better than he had back then, all covered in dirt and blood streaked with sweat. Now, he was clean and fully clothed, his leg showing no signs of having ever been broken. He was draped loosely in a cloak of black and grey, with heeled leather boots that came up to the middle of his shins. When Hae entered and crossed the room, he waggled silver-ringed fingers at him and watched without speaking.
“Good to see you’re alive,” Hae muttered, unhappily. “Was starting to think Kangin had killed you after all.”
“My safety is guaranteed,” he responded. “Your friend’s, however, isn’t.”
Hae’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He was too tired for mindgames, too weak to defend himself, too emotionally scattered to deal with anything at all, really. He paused mid-step.
“Eunhyuk?” His fists were clenching before he could reign in his control. “If you’ve hurt him I swear on my life and yours that--”
Leeteuk raised a hand for silence and rolled his eyes. “Not your lover. The chubby one.”
Relief eased the corners of Donghae’s lips, pulling them upwards before, “Sungmin is not chubby. He’s also a formidable opponent. I think Kangin will have a hard time if he tries anything.”
“Kangin isn’t the one he should be concerned about.” The Timechaser uncrossed his legs and leant forward, palming his knees through the black fabric of his pants. “Although I won’t touch him. How could I, when he means so much to my King?”
Hae pushed his thumb and forefinger into his tearducts. “What are you talking about, Leeteuk? I really don’t have time for this.”
Leeteuk looked at him for a moment and, for perhaps the first time since their conversation had started, assessed the situation and saw Hae’s distress. Donghae couldn’t worry about what secrets he was able to read in his body language or even the outside edges of his mind. Hae just wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep and find Hyuk to tell him that he had been wrong, that they didn’t have to be apart, ever, that he had been imagining everything and that it really wasn’t what he thought it was. That they would be okay. But, Donghae didn’t always get everything he wanted. In fact, he was finding that what he wanted, he couldn’t have.
“You need hebia,” Leeteuk noticed. “Its been too long. Is Eunhyuk like this as well?”
Hae chuckled darkly, “Who knows what he’s like now. An hour is more than enough time to find someone to fuck.”
“You two got into a fight.”
“No, a fight suggests an argument or disagreement. We both agree with each other about everything.” Hae did not want to explain his relationship with Hyuk to anyone, let alone someone he had thought was dead. “We just can’t continue to have anything to do with each other, is all.”
A few moments passed between them in which Donghae worked on getting his things together. His best plan would be to leave, although he had no real idea of where to go. Garahim was out of the question, it’d be best to leave Hyuk the home he’d helped build for himself. For the first time since becoming an Ipsuren and a part of their world, Hae was on his own. He could do anything he wanted. Go anywhere he wanted. The concept was slightly invigorating, actually. Hae had a bag of the clothes he’d picked up over the last few months in Disanji, along with Heechul’s crystal. He got it together, then. He was just thinking about how he’d need to pack provisions, perhaps some bread and cheese and dried meat from the kitchen, when Leeteuk spoke.
“Do you believe in love, Donghae?”
I believe in Eunhyuk. Hae closed his eyes and thought he could feel Hyuk’s familiar hands all across his skin, warm and tight, with fingers digging into his thighs. Briefly, he wondered if those hands were on someone else, right at that moment. Were they clawing angry red lines down some okji’s strong back? Or were they gently cupping the side of someone’s neck, with thumbs tracing the outline of someone else’s jaw? The thought sent Hae’s stomach to boil and he fantasized about finding this imaginary, made up person and scooping out their eyes with his thumbs. I didn’t want to say them at all but you pulled them from me, Hae! You practically forced me to confess my feelings
“No. I don’t even know what that means,” he said.
Leeteuk pushed his hands behind him and leaned back on the bed. “They say that we shouldn’t love one another. That love sleeps with jealousy, the ultimate sin. Look at us, though. We sit on our lofty thrones above humanity and cast all the 'lesser beings’ into the dark, closeted pits of the world, out of sight so we won’t have to see them and be reminded of what cruel, narcissistic creatures we are. The truth is in our egos, though. We do love. We love ourselves. It’s perverse, isn’t it? We fuck each other without fear of disease, in the open, hiding nothing. We feel no shame about casting others aside and demeaning our relationships, disrespecting our potential.
“I believe that we can love. I believe that we do love, horribly, helplessly, endlessly. It’s much worse than the petty, superficial emotions humans felt. When we get close to someone, we all but become them. Two Ipsuren, or three, or four, leave our own bodies and personal identities behind to create one single entity. We give birth, without ohza, without children, to a higher state of combined consciousness. Together, becoming one."
His smile grew wicked, then, “But you know all about that, don’t you?”
Donghae stood from his crouch on the floor. “Are you and Kangin connected like that?”
Leeteuk’s expression darkened and his eyes ran away from Hae, seeking shelter in his lap. His lids closed over them, heavily. “No, he would never let me get that close to him.”
Hae sat down on the bed, next to the Timechaser. “But, Sungmin...”
“Will stay,” he finished with a certainty. “My King has a way of ensnaring people. It’s in his touch, in his hebia. His power overwhelms you, encompasses your very existence and carries you away like a raging tornado.”
Donghae didn’t know what a tornado was like, but he had read about them.
“Once he gets you in his grasp there’s no escaping him. Your friend has no hope of ever living for anyone else again.”
“You’re wrong,” Donghae told him. “Sungmin is the strongest okji I have ever known. He may only be Jezbenite, but he has the spirit of a Nokhiri and the will of an ohza. He could never allow himself to be so weak.”
Leeteuk’s expression conveyed how much he pitied Hae his naivety. But Donghae knew better, even as his hair was being tucked behind an ear. “It’s out of his hands, I’m afraid.”
His lips came up to the side of Hae’s face and he could feel Leeteuk’s breath as it slipped out between his parted lips and ghosted across the shell of his ear. “Donghae,” he whispered, “who doesn’t believe in love.”
How much longer do you intend to hold on? Hae remembered. Then, I can’t be with just anyone anymore, Hae. You’ve ruined me.
Donghae turned and touched Leeteuk’s face. Under the slight press of his fingers, Kangin’s spiritual advisor felt real, but Hae was so weak and tired that he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was hallucinating the entire conversation. Perhaps Leeteuk really was dead and Hae was imagining him, imagining their proximity and the way he was being watched, through eyes clouded with lust.
“I’m real,” the okji whispered, reading Hae’s thoughts. Leeteuk took the hand that was against his cheek and pressed it against his chest. “Feel me.”
Whenever someone else will touch me, I will think of you. Leeteuk’s skin was warm beneath his fingertips and his heart was beating into Hae’s hand. Without intention, Donghae was already hard, arousal dominating over his self control. He pushed Leeteuk back onto the bed, the same bed he’d pushed Hyuk against countless times before. A few times, they’d been in this same position, with Hae sliding a knee between Hyuk’s knees as they parted, except this time, instead of seeing Eunhyuk’s familiar face smiling up at him, all high-cheekbones and needy glances, it was Leeteuk. Unfamiliar. A stranger. He hadn’t even felt attraction towards this okji before, yet he found himself unable to keep from leaning against him and pressing their lips together.
If anyone else ever kisses me, I will hate how they won’t taste of you. Leeteuk’s mouth opened desperately and Hae entered it without hesitation, claiming dominion. In Teuk’s kiss was the salt of tears unshed, the sound of children laughing. Hae felt the warmth of parenthood spreading through him, a feeling he hadn’t yet known himself. There were memories of wet, clumsy kisses from baby Kyuhyun, speckling his cheek and spreading drool. Beneath that, on the tail end, something dark and frightening, like strong winds. A glimpse of Kangin’s hebia, stormy and cold. Hae pulled away and found Teuk’s eyes were wet and glistening.
“You love him,” he whispered. “But he doesn’t love you.”
“I have his child,” Leeteuk told him, quietly. “Kyu loves me. He’s terrified of his father, so he comes to me. He needs me. That is good enough. As long as I can take care of his son, it will be enough.”
Even if someday I forget your face, I will never lose the sound of your voice. Hae waited while Leeteuk cried and could tell that it was something he didn’t usually do. The way he pressed his hands into his face, covering the way his pain warped his attractive features, made Hae’s heart retch.
“There’s no one else,” Leeteuk sobbed into his hands. “I haven’t been with anyone else in years.”
“You’re a prisoner, here.” Donghae thought of Sungmin and his heart was filled with fear.
After rubbing his face of remaining tears, Leeteuk let his hands fall back against the pillows. His face had turned into a solid expression of determination and strength. Only the red of his eyes and the way his lips slightly trembled gave away the fact that he had cried at all.
“I can be by his side,” he said. “Take care of him, even if he won’t come to me. Watch over him and his son. I’m happy, just with that.”
Eunhyuk. Could I live if Eunhyuk used me so? Could I be as strong? Could I watch him take other consorts, knowing he’d never feel the same for me?
It was not a question of “could” and “if.”
“You would,” the Timechaser read his thoughts so easily. “You wouldn’t have a choice. Your love for him would drive you insane if you were parted. Once you fall into that, there’s no escaping it.”
Who do you think you are, Donghae?
“I...” Hae pushed away, crawling back off the bed. “I have to go.”
Leeteuk sat up and readjusted his shirt where it was falling off his shoulders. In passing, Donghae thought he was a dramatically beautiful, achingly sensual being, all mussed up with raw emotion. He had an age to him, even though he looked so young. He was aged by the things he’d seen, the things he knew.
“Don’t ever stop loving him, Donghae,” he told him. “Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t.”
“Thanks, Teukie,” Hae smiled. “And, if it’s any consolation. I think Kangin is a fool for passing you up.”
After asking around for about an hour, he found Eunhyuk in an Inn in the center of the city. It was red brick masoned with white shutters on the windows, lantern-lit from inside. Instead of a neon sign, there was one carved out of painted wood hanging over the door that read “Everlasting Inn.” It was apparently lodging of high repute among the Timechasers, owned by an ohza named Nihla. It didn’t take much convincing to get the number of Hyuk’s room from her, she hadn’t had that many customers as of late. The halls were carpeted in green, faded from all the feet that had tread it over the years, the walls an unshocking beige. The doors to each room were painted different colors, he noticed, with metal numbers hammered into their faces.
Hyuk was in room 21, the first room on the left at the top of the stairs. He didn’t knock before entering, rather unlocked the door telepathically and quietly opened it, letting a streak of light from the hallway into the darkness inside Hyuk’s room. Without turning on the lights, he quietly crossed the room to the bed, where Hyuk’s shape lay in shadowed outline. Gently, he sat on the edge of the bed. Hyuk made no move to turn and see him, merely feigned sleep.
“Hyuk,” Hae whispered. He reached out a hand and touched the bump of his leg through the blankets. “Are you awake?”
No response.
“Listen,” he continued. “I spoke with Teukie. He’s alive. I’m sorry about this past month. I’ve let my fear control me and I think...I think it will be okay. We’ll be okay.”
For the first time, Hyuk moved. He reached over to the table next to the bed and twisted on an electric lantern. The flame inside was green, so the pale wash that filled the room was sickly and eerie in color. When Hyuk half rolled over to look up at Hae, his expression was serious, his eyes empty.
“Donghae,” he said, “don’t ever leave me again.”
Smiling, Hae fell into him. He pressed his elbows into the mattress on either side of Hyuk’s chest and stared at his face as if he hadn’t seen it in months. Hyuk looked sleepy and lazy, his weakness banishing Hae’s earlier fear that he’d sated himself with someone else. The knowledge gave Hae more relief than he’d felt in a month.
“Talking to Leeteuk, do you know what I realized?” Hae asked.
“What?”
“I realized that I’m in love with you.”
Hyuk’s smile was tired, but beautiful. “I know, stupid. I love you, too.”
After their kisses and touches, the torrent of their fervent, desperate hebia, they heaved together, clinging in sheets sticky with their sweat. Hyuk kissed the hair matted to Hae’s forehead and Hae wiped some of his come across his chest.
“We have to leave,” he whispered, as if the enemy could hear if he spoke too loud. “It’s not safe here anymore.”
“Alright,” Hyuk nodded. “Where to?”
“Anywhere. But we have to go, now.”
They showered together, even though the space was tight in the small bathroom. They didn’t have anything to pack, simply dressed and picked up their bag of clothes. Hae briefly had a moment of regret about not filtching some provisions from The Manor’s kitchens.
“What about Sungmin?” Hyuk asked, blowing out the lantern.
Hae shook his head, sadly, “I think he’s going to stay.”
Eunhyuk didn’t look surprised. “He’ll be okay. I wish we could say goodbye, though.”
“Ah, don’t say dumb things,” Donghae pushed him on the steps, lightly, and Hyuk stumbled down a few. “We’ll see him again.”
“I know.” He sounded sure.
Stepping outside, the air felt stale and smelled, faintly, of smoke. Almost immediately Hae felt a sense of foreboding. It was quiet and still, as if the very city itself was paused in time. Their footsteps against the cobblestone sidewalk cracked loudly and the ground glistened wetly in the light of the street lanterns. Hae looked up and around them, taking in the street they were on. Eunhyuk walked ahead, his steps swagging happily.
“Guess we should go south, right?” he suggested.
Hae followed him, somewhat behind, glancing about nervously. When he didn’t answer, Hyuk turned around and continued his walk backwards.
“Everything okay?”
I don’t like this.
Don’t like what?
But Donghae couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was he didn’t like. There was a terrifying sense of deja vu, as if he should have been aware of being here before, doing this before.
This feels familiar, for some reason.
Why are we speaking like this?
Because spoken word was too dangerous, because anyone could hear. The streets were empty and all the lights were out in the buildings, as if the whole city was turning a blind eye to them. Later, Donghae would wish he hadn’t stopped. Later, Donghae would wish they’d gone East instead of South. But it wouldn’t have mattered in the end. The alley would have snuck up on them eventually, be it North, East, South, or West, Disanji or Higher City. All along, it had been waiting for them, since the beginning. Perhaps part of Donghae knew, even as they rounded the corner and came upon it, staring at them with its endless path of darkness and it misty end, shrouding the truth. A corridor of stone. Familiar and empty, Donghae should have known.
But he didn’t. Or if he did, the decision wasn’t his to make. It was out of his hands. The moment was stolen by someone else, his steps taken for him by someone unseen.
“Hyuk, I know this place,” he whispered.
Standing in the mouth of the alley, staring into the black pit of its insides, Donghae watched a figure cut through the fog at the other end. Coming toward him, it moved quickly, a shadow. At first, he thought he was imagining it and his eyebrows furrowed as he watched the sudden movement. Vaguely, he registered Eunhyuk calling his name.
“Donghae!”
Ipsuren are prepared for many things. They can ward against attacks of the mind, put up emotional and psychological barriers, harden their insides and calm their bodies. But an Isudan can not slow time. The only thing that could have saved him would have been a break in time, where he would have been able to halt the bullet mid shot. Donghae could not do this. Even had he known, he could not have stopped it. Guns are an unfamiliar weapon and they were as foreign to Donghae as old age. He didn’t even recognize the pistol when it was drawn, could hardly see through the fog that surrounded it. The shot should have been loud, but Donghae didn’t hear it. As he took the bullet, he heard nothing but Eunhyuk screaming, distant and warped.
They thought they were safe. They hadn’t even been close.
Hae saw, outside himself, his body crumble. Hyuk stood in shock for a heartbeat before running to him, his knees scraping against the ground as he collapsed against Hae’s lifeless corpse. Standing off in consciousness, he saw death collect him without mercy or warning.
Still, to this day, he hears Eunhyuk screaming. It’s one of the many things he will never be able to forget.
A/N: Sorry this was double late guys ;_; apparently sleep deprivation is a bad idea. Claire, feel free to beat me with sticks.
Couple things though! One, instead of posting chapter 13 on Thursday I'm going to be posting a Mystery Sidefic on Friday, so please look forward to it! Two, I got a twitter so you guys can more easily keep up with my chapter and update progress! I'll be tweeting little things about how I'm writing each chapter, relevant information and links, extra stuff and also some personal things as well so please follow me! @swiftlocks
Also, keep the comments coming, guys! You've been doing really well the last two weeks and it's fucking awesome and I love you for it, so don't abandon me just yet ♥