the spaces between seconds *2/2*
Pairing: HimLo
Rated: PG
Length: 16K
THIS song was what I listened to on repeat the entire 4 days it took to write this beast.
“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds- but I think of you always in those intervals.” ―Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper
PART ONE
There must have been hundreds of thousands of Junhong’s existing at the same time across all the parallel universes, but Himchan held a select few in his mental favorites. All of them were special to him but there was a handful that he always went back to in his mind over and over again.
The first Junhong. Their day at the circus stealing popcorn from unsuspecting spectators together and watching the tiny boy’s face as he got the first happy experience in his short life.
The time Junhong had broken his leg after falling from a tree. They had spent the entire day on the pond bank behind his house, the eight year old boy delirious from pain medicine and Himchan so amused by his reactions that he purposely fell and re-fell into the water thirty-seven times just to hear his hysterical laughter.
The first time Junhong had remembered something about him, really remembered. “Here Himchan, you can have the pink marker since it’s your favorite color.” He didn’t notice Himchan dropping the blue marker in surprise, his mouth dropping open. He had told him that a few months ago and Junhong had remembered.
And now he had to add the Junhong he had left last night. Just a hairs width away from turning eighteen and about to graduate high school. He remembered that age, remembered being eighteen and saving a thirteen year old boy from dying in the rice fields. Remembered the moment he looked into Junhong’s eyes and realized just how lost he had become.
“You suck at basketball.” Junhong dropped to the court with a small snort of laughter, his shirt riding up and revealing sculpted hips that Himchan didn’t remember ever being there before. “What were you thinking challenging me to a game?”
He shrugged, pulling a bottle of water out of his pack and handing it to the sweaty boy. Man, he corrected himself. Junhong wasn’t a little boy anymore. “I just wanted to play and you happened to be here.”
The water slid down Junhong’s chin and over his neck as he gulped. Himchan forced himself to look away, felt disgusted for ogling him like that. Now that they were both adults it was harder to ignore the fact that Junhong was inhumanly beautiful. Junhong was his responsibility, he scolded himself, his job in life was to protect him and he couldn’t let hormones get in the way of that.
“You like fireworks?”
“Sure.” Himchan’s nose wrinkled up in confusion. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Junhong threw the bottle in the trash and held out a hand to him. “Our town’s founding festival is going on. You want to come with? I got my allowance this morning so it’s my treat.”
He nodded, tripping over his feet and into Junhong’s waiting arms when the quiet “Good. It’s a date.” passed through the boy’s lips.
“Oh wow!” Himchan watched with awe as Junhong won ticket after ticket in the basket toss game. Almost every throw was nailed and by the time the clock ran out after his eighth round he had an impressive pile of tickets in his fist. “You really are good at basketball. Our game wasn’t fair then. You should have warned me.”
He tried not to let his body tremble when a strong arm wrapped tightly around his waist. “I don’t play fair.” Junhong murmured against his ear.
They played games and strolled around the fairgrounds for hours, talking and sharing cotton candy and popcorn and hot dogs, both of them having so much fun that Himchan lost track of time until he remembered he only had one hour left.
“I’m leaving soon.” He informed Junhong sadly after cheering him on as he won yet another game.
Junhong nodded as if he had been expecting that. “The fireworks will start any minute. Let’s go trade the tickets in for a prize and head over there.”
They argued over which prize to get. Himchan tried to convince him he needed a giant stuffed basketball since he did win most of the tickets by playing that particular game.
But Junhong wanted something to give to Himchan. “I only won because you were my lucky charm.” He winked, causing Himchan’s cheeks to heat up. “That one.” He told the worker, grinning at the lime green frog that was handed to him. “I like frogs.”
“I know.” Himchan whispered, holding the stuffed animal tight in his arms. He wondered if he could skip back home with it or if it would disappear just like he was going to do soon. “Let’s go.” He blinked back the wetness in his eyes and grabbed at Junhong’s outstretched hand after carefully placing the toy in his pack.
They found a spot on the other side of the park where it was empty and quiet. Everyone else was heading towards the bleachers but Junhong said the spot he chose was better. Himchan didn’t argue, preferring to be by themselves then surrounded by hundreds of others.
“I had a lot of fun today.” He told Junhong, barely flinching when he was pulled back against a firm chest. His head rested on Junhong’s shoulder and he felt right. For the first time in his entire life he felt like nothing could ever be better than this moment right now. “I’m sorry I have to go.”
“I know.” Junhong echoed back his words from earlier. “Always running. When are you going to stay still?”
Himchan turned his body around to ask what he meant right when the first explosion erupted over their heads. Colors and lights and sounds filled the park but Junhong’s dark eyes were all he could see. “Junhong?”
The smile on his face was weary making him look older than his seventeen years. “One day I’m going to find you, Himchan.” He promised. “All the way across the stars. I’ll search forever.”
The lips were chapped when they touched his own, but Himchan didn’t think he’d ever felt something more perfect than the slide of them over his. It made the fireworks above them melt away to nothing as Junhong set off his own explosions all along the patches of skin his palm traveled, down his shoulder blade, tickling the fine hairs on his arm and sliding around his back. Himchan held his breath until Junhong pulled away, the air rushing back into his lungs.
“I have to go.” The dizziness wasn’t just the effects of Junhong’s lips on his, it was a sign he needed to leave and fast. “I’m sorry.”
Junhong refused to release his arms, only pulling him closer the more Himchan wriggled. “Stop Himchan.” His voice was tired. “Stop running from me.”
He pressed against him again, slipping his tongue against the crease of Himchan’s lips until he opened and let him enter. This time when Himchan faded away he didn’t fight it because he knew Junhong would always be there waiting for him in another lifetime.
---
“You look happy.” His roommate commented when Himchan came down for breakfast the next morning. “Something happen while you were gone yesterday?”
Himchan grabbed the orange juice bottle out of the fridge and poured a glass. He didn’t know how much he should tell Yongguk. He’d probably just inform him it was impossible and to forget it. Junhong had always been a carefully guarded secret of his, but he needed to tell someone. He needed to share it with his best friend.
“I saw someone.” He finally answered carefully.
“Yeah no shit. You always see people when you skip. So who did you see that made you so happy? Naked girl? Naked boy? Emperor? Alien?”
“No.” Himchan slowly buttered his toast. “It was someone I’ve seen before.”
The newspaper was slowly lowered to the table, Yongguk’s eyes boring deep into his own. “That’s not possible. It must have been a fluke.” Yongguk had always been adamant that what was wrong with them was just a genetic defect, that something wrong had gone on while they were in their mother’s womb. Anytime Himchan tried to bring up the idea that maybe they were fated for this life he was met with weeks of silence and angry glances.
Himchan flinched as he nervously tore at the crust to his bread. “I’ve seen him hundreds of times, Yongguk. It’s not a fluke.” His voice was quiet as he waited for the fallout he knew was coming. “I’ve been meeting him in different timelines for fifteen years.”
It came in the form of a loud crash, the table flipping over in front of them and everything clattering against the floor.
He sat in silence as Yongguk stormed through the house to jerk his jacket off the hook by the door. “I’m going out.”
“Guk wait. Don’t g-“
The door slammed before he could finish his sentence and he was left alone to pick up the shattered pieces of their breakfast.
---
It took Yongguk four days to come home. He let himself in the door, his soaking wet body shivering from the cold. He had obviously taken a trip somewhere because it hadn’t rained for weeks.
“Who is he?” Yongguk’s voice was soft as he sat down on the other side of the couch and pulled the blanket down to cover him.
Himchan held the frog Junhong had won him close to his heart. If he held it close he swore he could smell him on it. “His name’s Junhong. Last name changes but he’s always Junhong.”
“You care about him?”
He nodded. “Very much. I’m sorry I never told you. But I knew you wouldn’t understand. You told me years ago that seeing someone more than once was an impossibility. But it’s not, Yongguk. I see him almost every other skip and it’s him and he knows me.”
Yongguk still didn’t look convinced but Himchan was okay with that. He understood that it would be hard for Yongguk to believe him. At least he knew he was telling the truth.
“He gave me this.” Himchan said quietly, petting the frog’s soft fur. “He’s had frogs in almost every lifetime and it’s because I taught him how to catch them when he was just a toddler. Sometimes he’s named them Himchan before I’ve even shown up. Yongguk, he remembers me.”
“It’s not impossible.” Yongguk leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Why him? It doesn’t make any sense.”
He placed a hand over his best friend’s sharp shoulder blade. “Look at us. We’re the princes of impossibility. The real question is why not?”
---
The room he awoke in was dirty. Comic books and an empty pizza box were on the bed and a giant poster of a poison dart frog stared at him from the corner. Himchan could vaguely hear people yelling from outside the thankfully closed door. By the time he had recovered enough to sit up he had caught eyes on a picture thumbtacked to the wall by the closet.
“Junhong?” He mumbled tiredly, hobbling his way over to it. The grinning dimpled face he knew better than anyone’s was staring back at him, arm slung around a giant shaggy dog. This must have been Junhong’s room but where was he? And when was he?
A thud on the door had him scrambling towards the window, picture still between his fingers. He could figure that out later, but right now he needed to get out before someone saw him. The house he climbed out of looked normal enough, but the car in the driveway in front was couldn’t be from any later than the sixties. That meant that whoever owned the house was either broke or he had landed in the 1960’s.
Thankfully it was so late in the evening that he wasn’t noticed slipping around the house to peer in the open windows. If Junhong was in there he couldn’t see him, just a handful of kids running through the living room with toy guns and cowboy hats on their heads.
Himchan squinted harder. The children weren’t speaking Korean. He couldn’t understand but a few words here and there but it was definitely English. There was a picture on the side table of a man and a woman surrounded by children, none of which looked like Junhong. Foster house, he mused to himself. It wasn’t the first one he had found Junhong in.
When he had waited by the window for over an hour and Junhong still hadn’t shown himself he gave up. Figuring he needed to find somewhere to sleep and maybe a meal, he headed off down the street. He decided to come back in the morning and try again. The weather was cool, the winter chill not quite in the air yet but he managed to sleep comfortably all night covered in the warmth of dried leaves in the wooded park.
“He needs someone there with him.” The woman was arguing loudly to her husband when he came back the next day. “He’s only seventeen.”
The man waved her away, eyes glued to the baseball game on the TV. “He’s going to be eighteen next week and he won’t be our problem anymore. We stop getting money for him the second he becomes an adult and he’s on his own. Let it go.”
She wrung her hands and looked helplessly at him. “He’s not going to make it to next week.” She sounded near tears. “He isn’t responding to the treatments and the doctor said there’s nothing else they can do for him.”
Himchan may not have been fluent in English but he had taught himself enough that he got the gist of their conversation. With a gasp he spun around and ran up the street towards the town searching for the hospital. He ran until he couldn’t breathe and had to collapse to the sidewalk to catch his breath.
“Excuse me? Sir?” An elderly woman stopped by his side, hand on his shoulder sympathetically. “Are you alright?”
“Hospital?” He managed to choke out, eyes staring up at her in a silent plea. “Where at hospital?”
She pointed to the tall building a few blocks up the street from them. “Right there. Do you want me to help y-“
Without waiting to hear the rest of her question he took off again, suddenly thankful for the hours of jogging Yongguk forced him to do every week to stay in shape. After he burst through the doors to the front lobby, he realized he had no clue where to go. Junhong could be anywhere and he would never find him without help.
The desk with the large question mark sign over it was his best bet. “Junhong?” He asked, pointing to the stairs. “Junhong room?”
The bored secretary kept tapping on the plastic counter with her nails, finishing her magazine article before looking up to answer him. “I’m sorry sir but I can’t give away patient information unless you are immediate family. Are you immediate family?”
He licked his lips and shook his head, not understanding her words. “Junhong room?” He repeated again. “Sick.”
“Unless you can tell me your name and relation I cannot let you up.”
“Oh come on.” The nurse gathering files from the tray on the counter rolled her eyes. “He’s Chinese just like that sick kid. They’re obviously related.” She glanced down at her clipboard and flipped through a few pages. “Seventh floor, room 723.”
“Seventh floor, room 723.” Himchan echoed. He repeated it a few times until it stuck then bowed in thanks before pushing the up button on the elevator and waiting impatiently for it to arrive.
“Seventh floor.” He muttered, stabbing the seven aggressively until the doors closed. As soon as it arrived on the correct floor he busted out of it and spun around the hallway in confusion. Which hallway was he supposed to take? “Room 723?” He snagged the jacket of a passing orderly.
The man pointed down the middle hallway and he forced himself to run a little bit more. Junhong needed him.
Room 723 looked like every other door down the hallway, but behind it was the most important person in the universe to him.
He stepped inside and felt his breath catch into his throat. The boy that was so strong and sure of himself just a week ago was now so tiny and frail in the big bed. His eyes were closed and the half dozen machines he was hooked up to were barely keeping his chest rising and falling.
“Junhong…” Himchan’s finger traced across sweat-slicked yellowed skin and felt his heart breaking again for the little boy. It seemed that every time they’d meet Junhong was destined to tear him into pieces.
The puffy eyes could barely crack open but when they did the smile that crossed his lips was overwhelming. “I was wondering when you’d come.”
Himchan dropped his hand. “What?”
“I haven’t dreamed about you in weeks.” Junhong was barely conscious; the medicine from his IV bag thankfully keeping him in a pain-free limbo. “Let’s go to the circus again. I liked that dream the most. Or the one where we snuck into the movies and watched every single one playing before we ate pizza until we got sick and you told me to tell my mom that I spent the day at the library.”
The inside of Himchan’s skull was pounding, this couldn’t be happening. Junhong naming his dolls or animals after him because of vague dreams was one thing, but to actually remember something that actually happened, a real conversation in their past together wasn’t real. Kids had dreams about the circus all the time.
He’s not a child anymore, his brain hissed at him. You kissed him two weeks ago.
“I’m so sleepy, Himchan.” Junhong’s voice was soft but it rang through Himchan’s ears like a siren. “I’m so, so tired.”
He quickly scrubbed his face clean before resuming the stroking across Junhong’s warm skin. “I know you are sweetheart. Sleep now.”
Shaky hands reached towards his shirt and pulled him forwards. “Lay with me.” He breathed. “I want to go back to the circus.”
Himchan fit his body into the small space on the bed and wrapped Junhong’s frail body up into his arms. He was small, so much smaller than the last time Himchan had saw him and he was afraid he’d shatter him like glass with one move.
But he was Junhong, his Junhong. He had chased him across centuries, across continents, for fifteen years.
“I’d follow you forever. You’re my fate.” He whispered against Junhong’s ear. “I was made to find you.”
Junhong relaxed against him, his breath coming out in shallow hiccups that jerked his body forward with every one. Himchan only held him tighter, refusing to let his body move away from his own safe firm one. Once Junhong had settled down enough and his jaw became slack with sleep, Himchan buried his head against his clammy nape and finally let himself cry.
“Don’t let me leave.” He pleaded under his breath when the dizziness started to cause his eyes to blur. He had only minutes left and it wasn’t enough time, there was never enough time. “I don’t care if I never leave here and he dies and I’m alone, I don’t care just don’t make me leave him! He needs me!”
The spell didn’t cease, only got worse as Himchan fought his hardest to push it away, his whole body aching with the attempt to stay awake.
“Don’t take me.” He had never strained himself so hard to stay still and his body was tied up into knots trying to go against him. His hand cupped Junhong’s jaw and he turned his face to the side to press lips against his chin. “I love you.” Junhong stirred slightly in his sleep, fingers entangled with Himchan’s squeezing instinctually. “I don’t want to leave you.” He could feel himself slipping away, the smell of the fabric softener on his sheets at home permeating the sterile room. “I love you, Junhong, I love you.”
He faded away while Junhong slept next to him, waking up with a sore body and a skull-cracking headache. For the first time since he had met Junhong, he had tried to stay even if it meant just a few more moments with him before he died. He never wanted to leave him, but this was the only skip that had him begging any deity that would listen to let him stay, just let him stay.
With a sob muffled against his pillowcase he tried hard to remember the feel of Junhong’s skin under his, the smell of his shampoo as Himchan held him close.
He dreamed of circuses.
---
“Himchan?” Yongguk poked his head into his bedroom before stepping carefully inside. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
He made no move to reply, eyes still glued to the ceiling where they’d been since he came home three days ago. The only times he left his room were to use the bathroom and eat. He couldn’t keep this up anymore. Living through Junhong’s lives was tearing him apart.
Yongguk sat down beside him and rested the back of his hand on Himchan’s forehead. He sighed with relief when there was no fever present.
“What happened while you were gone, Himchan?” Yongguk knew this was a Junhong problem, they were always Junhong problems. He thought back to every time Himchan had come home from a skip with pain in his eyes that had to come from seeing the mysterious Junhong. “Did you see him?”
“I’m so tired, Yongguk.” He echoed the same words that had been haunting him. “So damn tired.”
Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he gave up. Helped himself take a permanent skip. Would he be the new Junhong? Would he live thousands of lives just for the chance to see Junhong for one day in each of them?
Yes, he realized with sudden clarity. He would.
“I found something.” Yongguk’s voice was hesitant as if he didn’t really want to show him. “I was doing laundry. You always forget to clean your pockets out so I make sure and check them before I wash them.”
He turned his head towards Yongguk, not sure why he was being bothered over a possible bit of money his roommate had found.
Yongguk reached into his pocket and pulled out a faded and slightly crumpled picture.
With a choking sound low in his throat, Himchan grabbed at the snapshot of Junhong he had shoved into his pocket and forgotten about as he had climbed out of his window.
He had evidence, tangible evidence that Junhong had been real, that he wasn’t just Himchan’s brain tricking him. Junhong had existed, Junhong had lived.
“Thank you.” He croaked out, thumb pressed flat against the boy’s smiling face as if he would be able to physically feel his skin through the cracked paper.
“Do you love him?” Yongguk was blunt and his eyes showed a pain that Himchan had never noticed in them before. “If you found him tomorrow here in the present, would you want to be with him?”
“Yes.” He answered with no hesitation.
There were no other words needed as Yongguk’s gaze clouded over with the detached look Himchan was most familiar with. With a nod, Yongguk left him alone with his picture. The only thing he had with Junhong’s face after fifteen years with him.
He traced the line of his jaw before slipping the picture safely under his pillow. “Goodnight Junhong.” He murmured into the quiet room. “I’ll see you again soon.”
---
A month went by, then two, three, four, until he hadn’t seen Junhong in half a year. The longest he had ever gone without him before was a month. Barely thirty days and he was going insane with the need to talk to him. Six months had him rabid.
Even Yongguk knew to stay out of his way because the slightest word would send him into fits, screaming so loudly that he would go hoarse. Every skip he had taken was just him searching blindly for any hint of Junhong. Nothing. Not a word of him in any timeline.
“Where are you, Junhong?” His eyes bore into the same picture he had been staring at every night for months and months now. “Help me find you.”
The next time the headaches happened he was ready, this was it. This was going to be the last one. If he didn’t find Junhong this time he wasn’t going to make it long enough for the next try.
He opened his eyes on the floor with whatever kind of building he was in was rocking underneath his feet and the sounds of motors burrowed into his ears. This was a ship, he realized, glancing out of one of the portholes. A spaceship if the too close stars outside was any indication. That meant he was in the future, but how far he wasn’t sure. Spaceships weren’t invented until 2087 and they weren’t perfected until at least three decades later. The farthest into the future he had ever traveled was about five hundred years and he hoped like hell this wasn’t anywhere near that. He never wanted to see what he saw that day ever again.
First he needed to change clothes. He knew his jeans and long-sleeved sweatshirt wasn’t going to be acceptable for this time period. Black pants and a black t-shirt were staples in his backpack. They let him fit in to several centuries with no problem so he quickly changed clothes and slipped his backpack over his shoulders. Time to find out where he was.
The first few people he saw were humans so at least he wasn’t as far ahead as he was worried about. The only humans he had saw that particular day were the ones in cages, the screaming ones with their flesh falling off in strips.
They nodded towards him as they passed, but their eyes were curious. He obviously didn’t look like them, but this was as close as he could get to blending in.
The sound of shouting was growing louder as he stealthily made his way up the nearly empty hallways and rooms. Whatever was happening was obviously holding everyone’s attention.
But he needed to stay neutral and even though he was curious what the loud noises were for he didn’t dare go any closer. He found an empty closet, the only things inside were the spiders and roaches that centuries of evolution never could manage to get rid of.
His first skip that took him to space was exciting. He had spent the whole day running around in awe, eyes taking in everything. Only after the third time and he had been captured and spent twenty-two hours locked into a standing room only cell did he finally realize he needed to use discretion. Now he would look for an empty room and make himself at home. When he remembered it he would pack a book in his pack for occasions like this.
The longer the day went on the more bored he became. He knew he had to search the ship. This was going to be his last chance for Junhong, he couldn’t take going home another time without seeing his face or hearing his voice. But waking up in his bed without finding him wasn’t near as terrifying a thought as actually searching for him with no success.
He needed to leave the safety of the tiny closet.
The second the door opened the shouting echoed through the hall again. He cautiously followed it down the side of the ship to the giant room that could easily hold an entire soccer field comfortably inside it.
Everyone was loud, everyone was yelling, he couldn’t understand.
They were all looking towards the raised stage in one end of the room, a tall man screaming into a microphone on it. Around him was a group of people in caps, the hoods covering their eyes so you couldn’t see them. Every so often he would jerk one forward and rip the hood off as the crowd grew louder and louder.
He would nod and pass the person off to the side of the stage and then grab another one and repeat the process.
And then he saw him. The hood was thrown back and Himchan gasped, automatically reaching towards the boy he would recognize no matter what. Even with his black curls straightened and dyed white, even in a cape that covered him from his neck to his feet, it was without a doubt Junhong.
“Junhong?” He raised his voice, stepping towards the stage, heart beating like mad in his chest. It was him, he had found him, Junhong was alive. “Junhong!”
Suddenly a hand was slapped over his lips and he was dragged away by someone much stronger than him. He tried to fight his way loose but the arm around his waist just gripped harder and yanked roughly towards the back of the room.
“Dammit Himchan. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
He fell back against the wall in shock. This couldn’t be happening.
“My god I’ve been looking for you all over this damn ship for ten hours. Your time’s almost up where have you been?”
“Yongguk?” His lips felt swollen and numb, the surprise of seeing his best friend in the same timeline as him was something he had never thought could happen. “What are you doing here?”
He scoffed and glanced around warily. “Saving your ass apparently. So was that him? The blonde kid?”
Himchan nodded and spun back to the stage where the man with the microphone was in the middle of pulling another hooded figure next to him. “Where is he?” He moved as if he was going to run off again before Yongguk’s hand clenched around his wrist. “What are you doing? I have to find Junhong!”
The complete sympathy in Yongguk’s eyes was the only thing that had his body stilling. “I’m sorry, Himchan. I know where he’s going. There’s… There’s nothing you can do. Just let him go. You’ll find him again next time.”
“What?” He shook the grip off of his arm. “I’m not just going to walk away from him, Yongguk. And if you think that I will do that willingly then you don’t really know me at all!”
He had only made it a few steps away before Yongguk’s resigned voice spoke up behind him. “They sold him, Himchan. And I know where they took him. It’s not pretty.”
“What are you talking about?” Himchan asked, still not turning around. He trusted Yongguk in all things a best friend should but not when it came to Junhong. Junhong was his. “Sold him to who?”
Yongguk stepped up next to him, smartly keeping a few inches of distance between their bodies. “A couple of scientists. I knew that was Junhong because I overheard them talking earlier. They were talking about all the good people up for sale today that they might want. This is a big thing that happens once a month. Lasts for days. Someone mentioned there was a kid named Junhong that they wanted. I’ve been keeping an eye on him until you showed up.”
He gripped the straps of his backpack in his fists. “What does a scientist want with him?” Even though he knew the answer wouldn’t make him pleased, he had to know.
Yongguk’s hesitance told him that whatever it was, it sure wasn’t anything good. “This guy builds robots, Himchan.” He replied softly. “He exchanges human brains for mechanical ones.”
All the breath in his lungs rushed out at the answer and Yongguk was forced to catch him before he fell. “He’s going to kill him? He’s going to hurt him just to make a damn machine?”
The unknown man touching his Junhong, putting his filthy hands on the boy’s innocent body and desecrating him like that was enough to make him feel like vomiting.
“Himchan we’ve never been in the same timeline before. What if this, all of this, is a test? Why were we brought together like this after almost ten years of skipping to separate timelines? We need to worry about getting our own selves out of here safely.”
He didn’t know the answer to that, but that was a question for a different time. Right now all Himchan wanted was to find Junhong and protect him. “Where did he take him?”
With a sigh, Yongguk realized they weren’t going to talk about their own problems and quietly led him out into the hallway and through the winding corridors. “My time is almost halfway done here. I spent the first six hours exploring and then when I heard the men talking I followed them to their labs. There’s two scientists but I think the one we’re wanting is the leader, the smartest one.” They ended at a set of double doors and Yongguk hesitated before pointing at them. “They went into there. But Himchan… I watched them for a while. They work fast. Very fast. I saw them experimenting with one and it only took them about thirty minutes to work on it.”
It had been more than twenty minutes since he had saw them drag Junhong away. They both knew what that meant.
“If we go in there they might kill us.” Yongguk’s jaw ticked, the tan flesh pulling tight over his muscles. “Is he worth it?”
Himchan nodded, already reaching towards the door. “Yes.”
They crept into the quiet lab, the only sound was a whirring and cracking that Himchan didn’t want to think too long about.
“They don’t have assistants.” Yongguk murmured to him as they dodged around a table full of tiny metal instruments that Himchan had to stop himself from breaking with his bare hands. “There’s only the two of them, but they’re deadly. Don’t underestimate them.”
“He’s the oldest and biggest one yet.” They heard a concerned voice saying from around the corner. “Shouldn’t we have used a smaller subject just in case it gets out of control? Aren’t you worried it will overpower us?”
“We tried using a child already, remember? Her brain wasn’t fully developed to handle the new syntaxes and partially melted. We haven’t tried this brain sequence model in a year, surely we have it perfected by now.”
The first voice still sounded unsure, but he was obviously the second in command and was smart enough to know when to pull his opinions back a little. “Are we giving him emotions? Maybe if we take them out he won’t prone to outbursts. The fighting model we made was so strong he got angry over every little thing and ended up killing his guard.”
They peered around the wall and Himchan muffled his whimper when he saw Junhong’s body spread out on an examining table, the two men leaning over and prodding around at the head of the bed. He didn’t need to see what they were doing, he knew he was too late.
Yongguk motioned him back and pointed to his waistband. “I have a gun if we need it.”
“You bring a gun with you? What if you get caught with it? What if you go back to the stone age and bring a damn gun to the cavemen?!”
He smiled, teeth sharp and eyes bright. “Then I let the cavemen know who’s boss. Let’s go.” Without waiting for Himchan he jumped around the corner and aimed his firearm towards them. “Back up.”
The leader looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Oh look Daehyun, it’s another angry brother.”
“He is certainly tall enough to be a relation, but he doesn’t look upset enough about the subject. He must have come because the other needed him.” They ignored Yongguk’s pointed gun and continued their work.
Yongguk pressed the gun flat against the leader’s skull and nudged his head forward. “I. Said. Back. Up.”
“About twenty more seconds, Youngjae.” The smaller one said as he concentrated on the needle he was pulling rhythmically in and out of Junhong’s skull. “Then Zelo will be finished.”
Himchan stood behind the three boys, his eyes glued to the sleeping boy’s chest. Even though they had turned him into a monster it was still slowly rising and lowering as he breathed. That was all the assurance Himchan needed to take charge.
He grabbed the gun out of Yongguk’s hand and used it to slam against the back of Youngjae’s skull like a hammer. The man went down like a rock, his head cracking against the corner of the table on his way.
Daehyun jumped back in shock, his eyes as wide as saucers. “What the hell? Do you know who you just maimed, you ignorant little ass? He’s the smartest human in two galaxies! The emperor will have your head for this!”
“Get away from Junhong.” Himchan growled through clenched teeth.
With a smirk Daehyun pointed towards Junhong’s prone body. “This boy? Oh I’m sorry, you’re about fifteen minutes too late. This isn’t Junhong anymore.” He pulled a control pad out of his lab coat and pressed a sequence of buttons. “Say hello to model ZLO2, or as we have been affectionately referring to him, Zelo.”
Junhong’s eyes popped open and he stiffly sat upright, his eyes trained straight ahead.
Himchan reached his hand forward to touch him but Junhong’s reflexes were lightning fast, his own arm stopping him with a viselike grip. “Please state your name and reason for physical contact.” His voice was monotonous and he still hadn’t moved his eyes from the wall over their heads.
“What did they do to you, oh god, Junhong.”
“Please tell Zelo your name and reason for physical contact.”
He pushed down the rising whimper in his throat and pressed his forehead into the space under Junhong’s jaw. The skin was still warm and smelled like soap. “Kim Himchan.” He whispered softly. “And because I love you.”
Junhong dropped his arm and his head tilted to the side as he silently processed the information. “Kim Himchan. Born 1990. Orphan. Previous Master recognizes human.”
His head jerked up and he grabbed the soft cheeks between his palms, forcing his eyes towards him. “Junhong knows me? Zelo, is Junhong still in there?”
“Affirmative.” Zelo’s eyes seemed to soften as he finally took a good hard look at Himchan. “Previous Master remembers you. Circuses, fields of weeds, kisses filled with fireworks.”
With a deep breath of relief, Himchan pulled Zelo into his arms. He wanted to call him Junhong in his mind, but it wasn’t right. He wasn’t his Junhong. But he was close and Zelo told him Junhong was still in there and that was good enough.
He had found him.
“Daehyun?” His head turned to the side at the frozen scientist still standing there holding the controller. “Can robots love?”
“W-Well yes.” Daehyun stammered, pressing at the buttons. “But they only do it if we program them that way. I programmed him to attack why isn’t he attacking?”
Himchan turned to Yongguk, a small smile on his lips. “I think you’re going to be going home without me this time.”
Yongguk looked between them, the knowledge of Himchan’s decision dawning over his face. “No! Himchan, you can’t. This isn’t even possible!”
His hands still held Zelo’s cheeks in them, his thumbs rubbing across the smooth skin. “We don’t know what would happen. Neither of us have ever died in a skip before.”
Daehyun’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you want me to turn you into a robot like Zelo?”
“Yes.” Himchan’s lips passed across the fluttering eyelashes of the younger boy. “And you have about two hours left to do it so you better be hurrying it along. I don’t want to wait until the last second.”
“Himchan!” Yongguk sounded frantic, his hands pulling at Himchan’s clothes. “Don’t do this, please! We don’t even know what will happen, you could die trying to skip back!”
Junhong’s eyes were narrowed as he contemplated the man in front of him. “Previous Master is angry now. Previous Master is informing Zelo that Kim Himchan is an idiot.”
He barked out a laugh as he pressed their lips together, wanting to have one final human memory of kissing him before it was too late. “Please tell Previous Master that this is the chance I’ve been waiting eternity for and I’m not going to let it pass by.”
His shirt was still being tugged on but the grip was weak. “Come home with me.” Yongguk begged from behind him. “I know you love him, but Junhong’s not real. He doesn’t exist where we exist.” He finally succeeded spinning Himchan around to face him, mouth crashing against Himchan’s as he finally admitted what had been left unspoken for so long. “I exist, Himchan. You’d never have to search lifetimes for me.”
A much stronger body was inserted between them, Zelo’s fingers curled against the tan skin of Yongguk’s neck.
“Previous Master would like me to tear your tongue out of your oral cavity.”
“Stand down, Zelo.” Daehyun finally pushed the correct sequence and had the tall boy dropping his arms to his side, body suddenly docile and calm. “Man, I’ve never had to do so much overriding on a model before. That was one strong-willed human we picked.” He turned towards Himchan and looked him up and down. “We gave Zelo the strongest brain in the universe. He is a walking universal encyclopedia right now. Is that the type of model you want to be?”
He shrugged his shoulders, eyes locking with Yongguk’s and trying desperately to apologize through his eyes. “I just want to be with Junhong.”
The last thing Himchan remembered was Junhong’s face looking down at him over the table as Daehyun prepared to inject him with the sedative. The lips that he knew were soft and slick and full of words that could make him dizzy with emotion curled up and showed a dimple deep in his cheek.
“Tell your Previous Master that this time I’m going to stay, okay?”
Blackness.
---
If this is what death felt like then Himchan wasn’t sure why everyone was so scared of it. All he could feel was calmness and peace, warmth and security. He had a brief moment where he felt like he was falling off a thirty story building, his heart flying high into his throat and he wanted to scream but his lips wouldn’t move, he couldn’t move.
Junhong’s voice was the only thing he could hear, he was screaming and he was hurting and Himchan wanted to say something, he wanted to help him, but trying made him frantic. He could feel his heartbeat pounding faster and faster until there would be a prick in his arm and he’d sleep again. He’d dream.
Junhong with mud on his cheeks, Junhong’s smile when he would see Himchan for the first time, the feel of their palms pressed together as they ran through street after street, lifetime after lifetime.
Junhong.
---
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was light, too much light after living in the darkness for what felt like years.
The second thing he saw was Yongguk.
“Shit.” His voice cracked and all of his hopes shattered in a split second. “It didn’t work.”
Yongguk snorted. “Oh no, it worked. Just not how you planned.” His eyes turned serious, his hand covering Himchan’s. “How are you feeling? You’ve been under for a while.”
“How long?” He stretched his legs out and tried to crack his neck. The movement made his brain throb deep in his head and he let out a whiny groan. “What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for a couple weeks. The doctor said your skull was filled with fluid and it was putting pressure on your brain. They drained it and you’ve been unconscious ever since.” He rolled his eyes. “They wanted to know what you’ve done lately that put so much stress on your skull. I couldn’t really tell them you time traveled and had your brain cut out of your head.”
“So it actually happened?” He looked around the room in confusion. “I don’t remember waking up though. Didn’t Daehyun do it correctly?”
Yongguk shook his head. “He tried to wake you up and nothing worked. I told him I would put a bullet down his throat if he didn’t fix it and he tried Himchan, I know he did because he was scared to death of me. But you just… Slept.”
He felt empty. Like a dried husk that used to contain a soul. “I failed. Again.”
With a chuckle, Yongguk patted his hand. “Get some rest. The doctor said you should be able to go home in a few days.”
---
His head still throbbed but he was finally able to easily move around by the time the doctor gave him his discharge papers. Yongguk had been surprisingly chipper for a man faced with Himchan’s desolate face every day. He hadn’t mentioned Junhong to him and Himchan never brought up the subject either. Himchan didn’t want to tell him that he wanted to give up and go back to the safe cocoon the blackness gave him.
“Himchan?” Yongguk stopped him outside the door to their apartment, his eyes guarded. “I’m sorry for what happened on the ship. Between us. That wasn’t right of me to do that to you.”
He shook his head, smile on his lips. “It’s alright. You know I could never be angry at you.” He chose his words carefully. “I care about you, Yongguk. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had. But I don’t feel the same way that you do. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t tell you everything.” Yongguk admitted, trying to mask his hurt. “You were getting so stressed in the hospital every time he spoke and your blood pressure would go sky high so I made him leave.” Yongguk’s hands gripped his tightly. “I wasn’t the one that took you to the hospital. Remember I skipped eight hours after you. When I got back you were already admitted and unconscious. ”
Himchan’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What are you talking a-“
“Go inside.” The gleam in Yongguk’s eyes brightened as Himchan’s lips parted in surprise. “I told you your plan worked. Just not in the way you thought.” He nudged him towards the door. “Go on. He’s been waiting a long time for you.”
The door couldn’t be opened fast enough, the wall booming as Himchan slammed it open. He ran through the kitchen and living room to his bedroom where he knew he’d be waiting.
This time he carefully cracked the door, his hand squeezing tightly to the knob and breath coming out in pants.
“Junhong?” He whispered to the huddled figure sitting motionless on his bed, stuffed frog held tightly against him.
In the half-second between when the head lifted and the giant dimpled smile was visible was the moment Junhong finally stopped breaking his heart and started putting it back together.
“Himchan!” And Junhong was in his arms and Junhong was kissing him and Junhong was breathing him in and Junhong remembered him. Breath tickled his neck and soft skin nuzzled against him. “I told you I would find you in the stars.” His voice was amused as he smiled against Himchan’s cheek. “What are your thoughts on circuses?”
"The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time." -Abraham Lincoln
Rated: PG
Length: 16K
THIS song was what I listened to on repeat the entire 4 days it took to write this beast.
“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds- but I think of you always in those intervals.” ―Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper
PART ONE
There must have been hundreds of thousands of Junhong’s existing at the same time across all the parallel universes, but Himchan held a select few in his mental favorites. All of them were special to him but there was a handful that he always went back to in his mind over and over again.
The first Junhong. Their day at the circus stealing popcorn from unsuspecting spectators together and watching the tiny boy’s face as he got the first happy experience in his short life.
The time Junhong had broken his leg after falling from a tree. They had spent the entire day on the pond bank behind his house, the eight year old boy delirious from pain medicine and Himchan so amused by his reactions that he purposely fell and re-fell into the water thirty-seven times just to hear his hysterical laughter.
The first time Junhong had remembered something about him, really remembered. “Here Himchan, you can have the pink marker since it’s your favorite color.” He didn’t notice Himchan dropping the blue marker in surprise, his mouth dropping open. He had told him that a few months ago and Junhong had remembered.
And now he had to add the Junhong he had left last night. Just a hairs width away from turning eighteen and about to graduate high school. He remembered that age, remembered being eighteen and saving a thirteen year old boy from dying in the rice fields. Remembered the moment he looked into Junhong’s eyes and realized just how lost he had become.
“You suck at basketball.” Junhong dropped to the court with a small snort of laughter, his shirt riding up and revealing sculpted hips that Himchan didn’t remember ever being there before. “What were you thinking challenging me to a game?”
He shrugged, pulling a bottle of water out of his pack and handing it to the sweaty boy. Man, he corrected himself. Junhong wasn’t a little boy anymore. “I just wanted to play and you happened to be here.”
The water slid down Junhong’s chin and over his neck as he gulped. Himchan forced himself to look away, felt disgusted for ogling him like that. Now that they were both adults it was harder to ignore the fact that Junhong was inhumanly beautiful. Junhong was his responsibility, he scolded himself, his job in life was to protect him and he couldn’t let hormones get in the way of that.
“You like fireworks?”
“Sure.” Himchan’s nose wrinkled up in confusion. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Junhong threw the bottle in the trash and held out a hand to him. “Our town’s founding festival is going on. You want to come with? I got my allowance this morning so it’s my treat.”
He nodded, tripping over his feet and into Junhong’s waiting arms when the quiet “Good. It’s a date.” passed through the boy’s lips.
“Oh wow!” Himchan watched with awe as Junhong won ticket after ticket in the basket toss game. Almost every throw was nailed and by the time the clock ran out after his eighth round he had an impressive pile of tickets in his fist. “You really are good at basketball. Our game wasn’t fair then. You should have warned me.”
He tried not to let his body tremble when a strong arm wrapped tightly around his waist. “I don’t play fair.” Junhong murmured against his ear.
They played games and strolled around the fairgrounds for hours, talking and sharing cotton candy and popcorn and hot dogs, both of them having so much fun that Himchan lost track of time until he remembered he only had one hour left.
“I’m leaving soon.” He informed Junhong sadly after cheering him on as he won yet another game.
Junhong nodded as if he had been expecting that. “The fireworks will start any minute. Let’s go trade the tickets in for a prize and head over there.”
They argued over which prize to get. Himchan tried to convince him he needed a giant stuffed basketball since he did win most of the tickets by playing that particular game.
But Junhong wanted something to give to Himchan. “I only won because you were my lucky charm.” He winked, causing Himchan’s cheeks to heat up. “That one.” He told the worker, grinning at the lime green frog that was handed to him. “I like frogs.”
“I know.” Himchan whispered, holding the stuffed animal tight in his arms. He wondered if he could skip back home with it or if it would disappear just like he was going to do soon. “Let’s go.” He blinked back the wetness in his eyes and grabbed at Junhong’s outstretched hand after carefully placing the toy in his pack.
They found a spot on the other side of the park where it was empty and quiet. Everyone else was heading towards the bleachers but Junhong said the spot he chose was better. Himchan didn’t argue, preferring to be by themselves then surrounded by hundreds of others.
“I had a lot of fun today.” He told Junhong, barely flinching when he was pulled back against a firm chest. His head rested on Junhong’s shoulder and he felt right. For the first time in his entire life he felt like nothing could ever be better than this moment right now. “I’m sorry I have to go.”
“I know.” Junhong echoed back his words from earlier. “Always running. When are you going to stay still?”
Himchan turned his body around to ask what he meant right when the first explosion erupted over their heads. Colors and lights and sounds filled the park but Junhong’s dark eyes were all he could see. “Junhong?”
The smile on his face was weary making him look older than his seventeen years. “One day I’m going to find you, Himchan.” He promised. “All the way across the stars. I’ll search forever.”
The lips were chapped when they touched his own, but Himchan didn’t think he’d ever felt something more perfect than the slide of them over his. It made the fireworks above them melt away to nothing as Junhong set off his own explosions all along the patches of skin his palm traveled, down his shoulder blade, tickling the fine hairs on his arm and sliding around his back. Himchan held his breath until Junhong pulled away, the air rushing back into his lungs.
“I have to go.” The dizziness wasn’t just the effects of Junhong’s lips on his, it was a sign he needed to leave and fast. “I’m sorry.”
Junhong refused to release his arms, only pulling him closer the more Himchan wriggled. “Stop Himchan.” His voice was tired. “Stop running from me.”
He pressed against him again, slipping his tongue against the crease of Himchan’s lips until he opened and let him enter. This time when Himchan faded away he didn’t fight it because he knew Junhong would always be there waiting for him in another lifetime.
---
“You look happy.” His roommate commented when Himchan came down for breakfast the next morning. “Something happen while you were gone yesterday?”
Himchan grabbed the orange juice bottle out of the fridge and poured a glass. He didn’t know how much he should tell Yongguk. He’d probably just inform him it was impossible and to forget it. Junhong had always been a carefully guarded secret of his, but he needed to tell someone. He needed to share it with his best friend.
“I saw someone.” He finally answered carefully.
“Yeah no shit. You always see people when you skip. So who did you see that made you so happy? Naked girl? Naked boy? Emperor? Alien?”
“No.” Himchan slowly buttered his toast. “It was someone I’ve seen before.”
The newspaper was slowly lowered to the table, Yongguk’s eyes boring deep into his own. “That’s not possible. It must have been a fluke.” Yongguk had always been adamant that what was wrong with them was just a genetic defect, that something wrong had gone on while they were in their mother’s womb. Anytime Himchan tried to bring up the idea that maybe they were fated for this life he was met with weeks of silence and angry glances.
Himchan flinched as he nervously tore at the crust to his bread. “I’ve seen him hundreds of times, Yongguk. It’s not a fluke.” His voice was quiet as he waited for the fallout he knew was coming. “I’ve been meeting him in different timelines for fifteen years.”
It came in the form of a loud crash, the table flipping over in front of them and everything clattering against the floor.
He sat in silence as Yongguk stormed through the house to jerk his jacket off the hook by the door. “I’m going out.”
“Guk wait. Don’t g-“
The door slammed before he could finish his sentence and he was left alone to pick up the shattered pieces of their breakfast.
---
It took Yongguk four days to come home. He let himself in the door, his soaking wet body shivering from the cold. He had obviously taken a trip somewhere because it hadn’t rained for weeks.
“Who is he?” Yongguk’s voice was soft as he sat down on the other side of the couch and pulled the blanket down to cover him.
Himchan held the frog Junhong had won him close to his heart. If he held it close he swore he could smell him on it. “His name’s Junhong. Last name changes but he’s always Junhong.”
“You care about him?”
He nodded. “Very much. I’m sorry I never told you. But I knew you wouldn’t understand. You told me years ago that seeing someone more than once was an impossibility. But it’s not, Yongguk. I see him almost every other skip and it’s him and he knows me.”
Yongguk still didn’t look convinced but Himchan was okay with that. He understood that it would be hard for Yongguk to believe him. At least he knew he was telling the truth.
“He gave me this.” Himchan said quietly, petting the frog’s soft fur. “He’s had frogs in almost every lifetime and it’s because I taught him how to catch them when he was just a toddler. Sometimes he’s named them Himchan before I’ve even shown up. Yongguk, he remembers me.”
“It’s not impossible.” Yongguk leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Why him? It doesn’t make any sense.”
He placed a hand over his best friend’s sharp shoulder blade. “Look at us. We’re the princes of impossibility. The real question is why not?”
---
The room he awoke in was dirty. Comic books and an empty pizza box were on the bed and a giant poster of a poison dart frog stared at him from the corner. Himchan could vaguely hear people yelling from outside the thankfully closed door. By the time he had recovered enough to sit up he had caught eyes on a picture thumbtacked to the wall by the closet.
“Junhong?” He mumbled tiredly, hobbling his way over to it. The grinning dimpled face he knew better than anyone’s was staring back at him, arm slung around a giant shaggy dog. This must have been Junhong’s room but where was he? And when was he?
A thud on the door had him scrambling towards the window, picture still between his fingers. He could figure that out later, but right now he needed to get out before someone saw him. The house he climbed out of looked normal enough, but the car in the driveway in front was couldn’t be from any later than the sixties. That meant that whoever owned the house was either broke or he had landed in the 1960’s.
Thankfully it was so late in the evening that he wasn’t noticed slipping around the house to peer in the open windows. If Junhong was in there he couldn’t see him, just a handful of kids running through the living room with toy guns and cowboy hats on their heads.
Himchan squinted harder. The children weren’t speaking Korean. He couldn’t understand but a few words here and there but it was definitely English. There was a picture on the side table of a man and a woman surrounded by children, none of which looked like Junhong. Foster house, he mused to himself. It wasn’t the first one he had found Junhong in.
When he had waited by the window for over an hour and Junhong still hadn’t shown himself he gave up. Figuring he needed to find somewhere to sleep and maybe a meal, he headed off down the street. He decided to come back in the morning and try again. The weather was cool, the winter chill not quite in the air yet but he managed to sleep comfortably all night covered in the warmth of dried leaves in the wooded park.
“He needs someone there with him.” The woman was arguing loudly to her husband when he came back the next day. “He’s only seventeen.”
The man waved her away, eyes glued to the baseball game on the TV. “He’s going to be eighteen next week and he won’t be our problem anymore. We stop getting money for him the second he becomes an adult and he’s on his own. Let it go.”
She wrung her hands and looked helplessly at him. “He’s not going to make it to next week.” She sounded near tears. “He isn’t responding to the treatments and the doctor said there’s nothing else they can do for him.”
Himchan may not have been fluent in English but he had taught himself enough that he got the gist of their conversation. With a gasp he spun around and ran up the street towards the town searching for the hospital. He ran until he couldn’t breathe and had to collapse to the sidewalk to catch his breath.
“Excuse me? Sir?” An elderly woman stopped by his side, hand on his shoulder sympathetically. “Are you alright?”
“Hospital?” He managed to choke out, eyes staring up at her in a silent plea. “Where at hospital?”
She pointed to the tall building a few blocks up the street from them. “Right there. Do you want me to help y-“
Without waiting to hear the rest of her question he took off again, suddenly thankful for the hours of jogging Yongguk forced him to do every week to stay in shape. After he burst through the doors to the front lobby, he realized he had no clue where to go. Junhong could be anywhere and he would never find him without help.
The desk with the large question mark sign over it was his best bet. “Junhong?” He asked, pointing to the stairs. “Junhong room?”
The bored secretary kept tapping on the plastic counter with her nails, finishing her magazine article before looking up to answer him. “I’m sorry sir but I can’t give away patient information unless you are immediate family. Are you immediate family?”
He licked his lips and shook his head, not understanding her words. “Junhong room?” He repeated again. “Sick.”
“Unless you can tell me your name and relation I cannot let you up.”
“Oh come on.” The nurse gathering files from the tray on the counter rolled her eyes. “He’s Chinese just like that sick kid. They’re obviously related.” She glanced down at her clipboard and flipped through a few pages. “Seventh floor, room 723.”
“Seventh floor, room 723.” Himchan echoed. He repeated it a few times until it stuck then bowed in thanks before pushing the up button on the elevator and waiting impatiently for it to arrive.
“Seventh floor.” He muttered, stabbing the seven aggressively until the doors closed. As soon as it arrived on the correct floor he busted out of it and spun around the hallway in confusion. Which hallway was he supposed to take? “Room 723?” He snagged the jacket of a passing orderly.
The man pointed down the middle hallway and he forced himself to run a little bit more. Junhong needed him.
Room 723 looked like every other door down the hallway, but behind it was the most important person in the universe to him.
He stepped inside and felt his breath catch into his throat. The boy that was so strong and sure of himself just a week ago was now so tiny and frail in the big bed. His eyes were closed and the half dozen machines he was hooked up to were barely keeping his chest rising and falling.
“Junhong…” Himchan’s finger traced across sweat-slicked yellowed skin and felt his heart breaking again for the little boy. It seemed that every time they’d meet Junhong was destined to tear him into pieces.
The puffy eyes could barely crack open but when they did the smile that crossed his lips was overwhelming. “I was wondering when you’d come.”
Himchan dropped his hand. “What?”
“I haven’t dreamed about you in weeks.” Junhong was barely conscious; the medicine from his IV bag thankfully keeping him in a pain-free limbo. “Let’s go to the circus again. I liked that dream the most. Or the one where we snuck into the movies and watched every single one playing before we ate pizza until we got sick and you told me to tell my mom that I spent the day at the library.”
The inside of Himchan’s skull was pounding, this couldn’t be happening. Junhong naming his dolls or animals after him because of vague dreams was one thing, but to actually remember something that actually happened, a real conversation in their past together wasn’t real. Kids had dreams about the circus all the time.
He’s not a child anymore, his brain hissed at him. You kissed him two weeks ago.
“I’m so sleepy, Himchan.” Junhong’s voice was soft but it rang through Himchan’s ears like a siren. “I’m so, so tired.”
He quickly scrubbed his face clean before resuming the stroking across Junhong’s warm skin. “I know you are sweetheart. Sleep now.”
Shaky hands reached towards his shirt and pulled him forwards. “Lay with me.” He breathed. “I want to go back to the circus.”
Himchan fit his body into the small space on the bed and wrapped Junhong’s frail body up into his arms. He was small, so much smaller than the last time Himchan had saw him and he was afraid he’d shatter him like glass with one move.
But he was Junhong, his Junhong. He had chased him across centuries, across continents, for fifteen years.
“I’d follow you forever. You’re my fate.” He whispered against Junhong’s ear. “I was made to find you.”
Junhong relaxed against him, his breath coming out in shallow hiccups that jerked his body forward with every one. Himchan only held him tighter, refusing to let his body move away from his own safe firm one. Once Junhong had settled down enough and his jaw became slack with sleep, Himchan buried his head against his clammy nape and finally let himself cry.
“Don’t let me leave.” He pleaded under his breath when the dizziness started to cause his eyes to blur. He had only minutes left and it wasn’t enough time, there was never enough time. “I don’t care if I never leave here and he dies and I’m alone, I don’t care just don’t make me leave him! He needs me!”
The spell didn’t cease, only got worse as Himchan fought his hardest to push it away, his whole body aching with the attempt to stay awake.
“Don’t take me.” He had never strained himself so hard to stay still and his body was tied up into knots trying to go against him. His hand cupped Junhong’s jaw and he turned his face to the side to press lips against his chin. “I love you.” Junhong stirred slightly in his sleep, fingers entangled with Himchan’s squeezing instinctually. “I don’t want to leave you.” He could feel himself slipping away, the smell of the fabric softener on his sheets at home permeating the sterile room. “I love you, Junhong, I love you.”
He faded away while Junhong slept next to him, waking up with a sore body and a skull-cracking headache. For the first time since he had met Junhong, he had tried to stay even if it meant just a few more moments with him before he died. He never wanted to leave him, but this was the only skip that had him begging any deity that would listen to let him stay, just let him stay.
With a sob muffled against his pillowcase he tried hard to remember the feel of Junhong’s skin under his, the smell of his shampoo as Himchan held him close.
He dreamed of circuses.
---
“Himchan?” Yongguk poked his head into his bedroom before stepping carefully inside. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
He made no move to reply, eyes still glued to the ceiling where they’d been since he came home three days ago. The only times he left his room were to use the bathroom and eat. He couldn’t keep this up anymore. Living through Junhong’s lives was tearing him apart.
Yongguk sat down beside him and rested the back of his hand on Himchan’s forehead. He sighed with relief when there was no fever present.
“What happened while you were gone, Himchan?” Yongguk knew this was a Junhong problem, they were always Junhong problems. He thought back to every time Himchan had come home from a skip with pain in his eyes that had to come from seeing the mysterious Junhong. “Did you see him?”
“I’m so tired, Yongguk.” He echoed the same words that had been haunting him. “So damn tired.”
Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he gave up. Helped himself take a permanent skip. Would he be the new Junhong? Would he live thousands of lives just for the chance to see Junhong for one day in each of them?
Yes, he realized with sudden clarity. He would.
“I found something.” Yongguk’s voice was hesitant as if he didn’t really want to show him. “I was doing laundry. You always forget to clean your pockets out so I make sure and check them before I wash them.”
He turned his head towards Yongguk, not sure why he was being bothered over a possible bit of money his roommate had found.
Yongguk reached into his pocket and pulled out a faded and slightly crumpled picture.
With a choking sound low in his throat, Himchan grabbed at the snapshot of Junhong he had shoved into his pocket and forgotten about as he had climbed out of his window.
He had evidence, tangible evidence that Junhong had been real, that he wasn’t just Himchan’s brain tricking him. Junhong had existed, Junhong had lived.
“Thank you.” He croaked out, thumb pressed flat against the boy’s smiling face as if he would be able to physically feel his skin through the cracked paper.
“Do you love him?” Yongguk was blunt and his eyes showed a pain that Himchan had never noticed in them before. “If you found him tomorrow here in the present, would you want to be with him?”
“Yes.” He answered with no hesitation.
There were no other words needed as Yongguk’s gaze clouded over with the detached look Himchan was most familiar with. With a nod, Yongguk left him alone with his picture. The only thing he had with Junhong’s face after fifteen years with him.
He traced the line of his jaw before slipping the picture safely under his pillow. “Goodnight Junhong.” He murmured into the quiet room. “I’ll see you again soon.”
---
A month went by, then two, three, four, until he hadn’t seen Junhong in half a year. The longest he had ever gone without him before was a month. Barely thirty days and he was going insane with the need to talk to him. Six months had him rabid.
Even Yongguk knew to stay out of his way because the slightest word would send him into fits, screaming so loudly that he would go hoarse. Every skip he had taken was just him searching blindly for any hint of Junhong. Nothing. Not a word of him in any timeline.
“Where are you, Junhong?” His eyes bore into the same picture he had been staring at every night for months and months now. “Help me find you.”
The next time the headaches happened he was ready, this was it. This was going to be the last one. If he didn’t find Junhong this time he wasn’t going to make it long enough for the next try.
He opened his eyes on the floor with whatever kind of building he was in was rocking underneath his feet and the sounds of motors burrowed into his ears. This was a ship, he realized, glancing out of one of the portholes. A spaceship if the too close stars outside was any indication. That meant he was in the future, but how far he wasn’t sure. Spaceships weren’t invented until 2087 and they weren’t perfected until at least three decades later. The farthest into the future he had ever traveled was about five hundred years and he hoped like hell this wasn’t anywhere near that. He never wanted to see what he saw that day ever again.
First he needed to change clothes. He knew his jeans and long-sleeved sweatshirt wasn’t going to be acceptable for this time period. Black pants and a black t-shirt were staples in his backpack. They let him fit in to several centuries with no problem so he quickly changed clothes and slipped his backpack over his shoulders. Time to find out where he was.
The first few people he saw were humans so at least he wasn’t as far ahead as he was worried about. The only humans he had saw that particular day were the ones in cages, the screaming ones with their flesh falling off in strips.
They nodded towards him as they passed, but their eyes were curious. He obviously didn’t look like them, but this was as close as he could get to blending in.
The sound of shouting was growing louder as he stealthily made his way up the nearly empty hallways and rooms. Whatever was happening was obviously holding everyone’s attention.
But he needed to stay neutral and even though he was curious what the loud noises were for he didn’t dare go any closer. He found an empty closet, the only things inside were the spiders and roaches that centuries of evolution never could manage to get rid of.
His first skip that took him to space was exciting. He had spent the whole day running around in awe, eyes taking in everything. Only after the third time and he had been captured and spent twenty-two hours locked into a standing room only cell did he finally realize he needed to use discretion. Now he would look for an empty room and make himself at home. When he remembered it he would pack a book in his pack for occasions like this.
The longer the day went on the more bored he became. He knew he had to search the ship. This was going to be his last chance for Junhong, he couldn’t take going home another time without seeing his face or hearing his voice. But waking up in his bed without finding him wasn’t near as terrifying a thought as actually searching for him with no success.
He needed to leave the safety of the tiny closet.
The second the door opened the shouting echoed through the hall again. He cautiously followed it down the side of the ship to the giant room that could easily hold an entire soccer field comfortably inside it.
Everyone was loud, everyone was yelling, he couldn’t understand.
They were all looking towards the raised stage in one end of the room, a tall man screaming into a microphone on it. Around him was a group of people in caps, the hoods covering their eyes so you couldn’t see them. Every so often he would jerk one forward and rip the hood off as the crowd grew louder and louder.
He would nod and pass the person off to the side of the stage and then grab another one and repeat the process.
And then he saw him. The hood was thrown back and Himchan gasped, automatically reaching towards the boy he would recognize no matter what. Even with his black curls straightened and dyed white, even in a cape that covered him from his neck to his feet, it was without a doubt Junhong.
“Junhong?” He raised his voice, stepping towards the stage, heart beating like mad in his chest. It was him, he had found him, Junhong was alive. “Junhong!”
Suddenly a hand was slapped over his lips and he was dragged away by someone much stronger than him. He tried to fight his way loose but the arm around his waist just gripped harder and yanked roughly towards the back of the room.
“Dammit Himchan. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
He fell back against the wall in shock. This couldn’t be happening.
“My god I’ve been looking for you all over this damn ship for ten hours. Your time’s almost up where have you been?”
“Yongguk?” His lips felt swollen and numb, the surprise of seeing his best friend in the same timeline as him was something he had never thought could happen. “What are you doing here?”
He scoffed and glanced around warily. “Saving your ass apparently. So was that him? The blonde kid?”
Himchan nodded and spun back to the stage where the man with the microphone was in the middle of pulling another hooded figure next to him. “Where is he?” He moved as if he was going to run off again before Yongguk’s hand clenched around his wrist. “What are you doing? I have to find Junhong!”
The complete sympathy in Yongguk’s eyes was the only thing that had his body stilling. “I’m sorry, Himchan. I know where he’s going. There’s… There’s nothing you can do. Just let him go. You’ll find him again next time.”
“What?” He shook the grip off of his arm. “I’m not just going to walk away from him, Yongguk. And if you think that I will do that willingly then you don’t really know me at all!”
He had only made it a few steps away before Yongguk’s resigned voice spoke up behind him. “They sold him, Himchan. And I know where they took him. It’s not pretty.”
“What are you talking about?” Himchan asked, still not turning around. He trusted Yongguk in all things a best friend should but not when it came to Junhong. Junhong was his. “Sold him to who?”
Yongguk stepped up next to him, smartly keeping a few inches of distance between their bodies. “A couple of scientists. I knew that was Junhong because I overheard them talking earlier. They were talking about all the good people up for sale today that they might want. This is a big thing that happens once a month. Lasts for days. Someone mentioned there was a kid named Junhong that they wanted. I’ve been keeping an eye on him until you showed up.”
He gripped the straps of his backpack in his fists. “What does a scientist want with him?” Even though he knew the answer wouldn’t make him pleased, he had to know.
Yongguk’s hesitance told him that whatever it was, it sure wasn’t anything good. “This guy builds robots, Himchan.” He replied softly. “He exchanges human brains for mechanical ones.”
All the breath in his lungs rushed out at the answer and Yongguk was forced to catch him before he fell. “He’s going to kill him? He’s going to hurt him just to make a damn machine?”
The unknown man touching his Junhong, putting his filthy hands on the boy’s innocent body and desecrating him like that was enough to make him feel like vomiting.
“Himchan we’ve never been in the same timeline before. What if this, all of this, is a test? Why were we brought together like this after almost ten years of skipping to separate timelines? We need to worry about getting our own selves out of here safely.”
He didn’t know the answer to that, but that was a question for a different time. Right now all Himchan wanted was to find Junhong and protect him. “Where did he take him?”
With a sigh, Yongguk realized they weren’t going to talk about their own problems and quietly led him out into the hallway and through the winding corridors. “My time is almost halfway done here. I spent the first six hours exploring and then when I heard the men talking I followed them to their labs. There’s two scientists but I think the one we’re wanting is the leader, the smartest one.” They ended at a set of double doors and Yongguk hesitated before pointing at them. “They went into there. But Himchan… I watched them for a while. They work fast. Very fast. I saw them experimenting with one and it only took them about thirty minutes to work on it.”
It had been more than twenty minutes since he had saw them drag Junhong away. They both knew what that meant.
“If we go in there they might kill us.” Yongguk’s jaw ticked, the tan flesh pulling tight over his muscles. “Is he worth it?”
Himchan nodded, already reaching towards the door. “Yes.”
They crept into the quiet lab, the only sound was a whirring and cracking that Himchan didn’t want to think too long about.
“They don’t have assistants.” Yongguk murmured to him as they dodged around a table full of tiny metal instruments that Himchan had to stop himself from breaking with his bare hands. “There’s only the two of them, but they’re deadly. Don’t underestimate them.”
“He’s the oldest and biggest one yet.” They heard a concerned voice saying from around the corner. “Shouldn’t we have used a smaller subject just in case it gets out of control? Aren’t you worried it will overpower us?”
“We tried using a child already, remember? Her brain wasn’t fully developed to handle the new syntaxes and partially melted. We haven’t tried this brain sequence model in a year, surely we have it perfected by now.”
The first voice still sounded unsure, but he was obviously the second in command and was smart enough to know when to pull his opinions back a little. “Are we giving him emotions? Maybe if we take them out he won’t prone to outbursts. The fighting model we made was so strong he got angry over every little thing and ended up killing his guard.”
They peered around the wall and Himchan muffled his whimper when he saw Junhong’s body spread out on an examining table, the two men leaning over and prodding around at the head of the bed. He didn’t need to see what they were doing, he knew he was too late.
Yongguk motioned him back and pointed to his waistband. “I have a gun if we need it.”
“You bring a gun with you? What if you get caught with it? What if you go back to the stone age and bring a damn gun to the cavemen?!”
He smiled, teeth sharp and eyes bright. “Then I let the cavemen know who’s boss. Let’s go.” Without waiting for Himchan he jumped around the corner and aimed his firearm towards them. “Back up.”
The leader looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Oh look Daehyun, it’s another angry brother.”
“He is certainly tall enough to be a relation, but he doesn’t look upset enough about the subject. He must have come because the other needed him.” They ignored Yongguk’s pointed gun and continued their work.
Yongguk pressed the gun flat against the leader’s skull and nudged his head forward. “I. Said. Back. Up.”
“About twenty more seconds, Youngjae.” The smaller one said as he concentrated on the needle he was pulling rhythmically in and out of Junhong’s skull. “Then Zelo will be finished.”
Himchan stood behind the three boys, his eyes glued to the sleeping boy’s chest. Even though they had turned him into a monster it was still slowly rising and lowering as he breathed. That was all the assurance Himchan needed to take charge.
He grabbed the gun out of Yongguk’s hand and used it to slam against the back of Youngjae’s skull like a hammer. The man went down like a rock, his head cracking against the corner of the table on his way.
Daehyun jumped back in shock, his eyes as wide as saucers. “What the hell? Do you know who you just maimed, you ignorant little ass? He’s the smartest human in two galaxies! The emperor will have your head for this!”
“Get away from Junhong.” Himchan growled through clenched teeth.
With a smirk Daehyun pointed towards Junhong’s prone body. “This boy? Oh I’m sorry, you’re about fifteen minutes too late. This isn’t Junhong anymore.” He pulled a control pad out of his lab coat and pressed a sequence of buttons. “Say hello to model ZLO2, or as we have been affectionately referring to him, Zelo.”
Junhong’s eyes popped open and he stiffly sat upright, his eyes trained straight ahead.
Himchan reached his hand forward to touch him but Junhong’s reflexes were lightning fast, his own arm stopping him with a viselike grip. “Please state your name and reason for physical contact.” His voice was monotonous and he still hadn’t moved his eyes from the wall over their heads.
“What did they do to you, oh god, Junhong.”
“Please tell Zelo your name and reason for physical contact.”
He pushed down the rising whimper in his throat and pressed his forehead into the space under Junhong’s jaw. The skin was still warm and smelled like soap. “Kim Himchan.” He whispered softly. “And because I love you.”
Junhong dropped his arm and his head tilted to the side as he silently processed the information. “Kim Himchan. Born 1990. Orphan. Previous Master recognizes human.”
His head jerked up and he grabbed the soft cheeks between his palms, forcing his eyes towards him. “Junhong knows me? Zelo, is Junhong still in there?”
“Affirmative.” Zelo’s eyes seemed to soften as he finally took a good hard look at Himchan. “Previous Master remembers you. Circuses, fields of weeds, kisses filled with fireworks.”
With a deep breath of relief, Himchan pulled Zelo into his arms. He wanted to call him Junhong in his mind, but it wasn’t right. He wasn’t his Junhong. But he was close and Zelo told him Junhong was still in there and that was good enough.
He had found him.
“Daehyun?” His head turned to the side at the frozen scientist still standing there holding the controller. “Can robots love?”
“W-Well yes.” Daehyun stammered, pressing at the buttons. “But they only do it if we program them that way. I programmed him to attack why isn’t he attacking?”
Himchan turned to Yongguk, a small smile on his lips. “I think you’re going to be going home without me this time.”
Yongguk looked between them, the knowledge of Himchan’s decision dawning over his face. “No! Himchan, you can’t. This isn’t even possible!”
His hands still held Zelo’s cheeks in them, his thumbs rubbing across the smooth skin. “We don’t know what would happen. Neither of us have ever died in a skip before.”
Daehyun’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you want me to turn you into a robot like Zelo?”
“Yes.” Himchan’s lips passed across the fluttering eyelashes of the younger boy. “And you have about two hours left to do it so you better be hurrying it along. I don’t want to wait until the last second.”
“Himchan!” Yongguk sounded frantic, his hands pulling at Himchan’s clothes. “Don’t do this, please! We don’t even know what will happen, you could die trying to skip back!”
Junhong’s eyes were narrowed as he contemplated the man in front of him. “Previous Master is angry now. Previous Master is informing Zelo that Kim Himchan is an idiot.”
He barked out a laugh as he pressed their lips together, wanting to have one final human memory of kissing him before it was too late. “Please tell Previous Master that this is the chance I’ve been waiting eternity for and I’m not going to let it pass by.”
His shirt was still being tugged on but the grip was weak. “Come home with me.” Yongguk begged from behind him. “I know you love him, but Junhong’s not real. He doesn’t exist where we exist.” He finally succeeded spinning Himchan around to face him, mouth crashing against Himchan’s as he finally admitted what had been left unspoken for so long. “I exist, Himchan. You’d never have to search lifetimes for me.”
A much stronger body was inserted between them, Zelo’s fingers curled against the tan skin of Yongguk’s neck.
“Previous Master would like me to tear your tongue out of your oral cavity.”
“Stand down, Zelo.” Daehyun finally pushed the correct sequence and had the tall boy dropping his arms to his side, body suddenly docile and calm. “Man, I’ve never had to do so much overriding on a model before. That was one strong-willed human we picked.” He turned towards Himchan and looked him up and down. “We gave Zelo the strongest brain in the universe. He is a walking universal encyclopedia right now. Is that the type of model you want to be?”
He shrugged his shoulders, eyes locking with Yongguk’s and trying desperately to apologize through his eyes. “I just want to be with Junhong.”
The last thing Himchan remembered was Junhong’s face looking down at him over the table as Daehyun prepared to inject him with the sedative. The lips that he knew were soft and slick and full of words that could make him dizzy with emotion curled up and showed a dimple deep in his cheek.
“Tell your Previous Master that this time I’m going to stay, okay?”
Blackness.
---
If this is what death felt like then Himchan wasn’t sure why everyone was so scared of it. All he could feel was calmness and peace, warmth and security. He had a brief moment where he felt like he was falling off a thirty story building, his heart flying high into his throat and he wanted to scream but his lips wouldn’t move, he couldn’t move.
Junhong’s voice was the only thing he could hear, he was screaming and he was hurting and Himchan wanted to say something, he wanted to help him, but trying made him frantic. He could feel his heartbeat pounding faster and faster until there would be a prick in his arm and he’d sleep again. He’d dream.
Junhong with mud on his cheeks, Junhong’s smile when he would see Himchan for the first time, the feel of their palms pressed together as they ran through street after street, lifetime after lifetime.
Junhong.
---
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was light, too much light after living in the darkness for what felt like years.
The second thing he saw was Yongguk.
“Shit.” His voice cracked and all of his hopes shattered in a split second. “It didn’t work.”
Yongguk snorted. “Oh no, it worked. Just not how you planned.” His eyes turned serious, his hand covering Himchan’s. “How are you feeling? You’ve been under for a while.”
“How long?” He stretched his legs out and tried to crack his neck. The movement made his brain throb deep in his head and he let out a whiny groan. “What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for a couple weeks. The doctor said your skull was filled with fluid and it was putting pressure on your brain. They drained it and you’ve been unconscious ever since.” He rolled his eyes. “They wanted to know what you’ve done lately that put so much stress on your skull. I couldn’t really tell them you time traveled and had your brain cut out of your head.”
“So it actually happened?” He looked around the room in confusion. “I don’t remember waking up though. Didn’t Daehyun do it correctly?”
Yongguk shook his head. “He tried to wake you up and nothing worked. I told him I would put a bullet down his throat if he didn’t fix it and he tried Himchan, I know he did because he was scared to death of me. But you just… Slept.”
He felt empty. Like a dried husk that used to contain a soul. “I failed. Again.”
With a chuckle, Yongguk patted his hand. “Get some rest. The doctor said you should be able to go home in a few days.”
---
His head still throbbed but he was finally able to easily move around by the time the doctor gave him his discharge papers. Yongguk had been surprisingly chipper for a man faced with Himchan’s desolate face every day. He hadn’t mentioned Junhong to him and Himchan never brought up the subject either. Himchan didn’t want to tell him that he wanted to give up and go back to the safe cocoon the blackness gave him.
“Himchan?” Yongguk stopped him outside the door to their apartment, his eyes guarded. “I’m sorry for what happened on the ship. Between us. That wasn’t right of me to do that to you.”
He shook his head, smile on his lips. “It’s alright. You know I could never be angry at you.” He chose his words carefully. “I care about you, Yongguk. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had. But I don’t feel the same way that you do. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t tell you everything.” Yongguk admitted, trying to mask his hurt. “You were getting so stressed in the hospital every time he spoke and your blood pressure would go sky high so I made him leave.” Yongguk’s hands gripped his tightly. “I wasn’t the one that took you to the hospital. Remember I skipped eight hours after you. When I got back you were already admitted and unconscious. ”
Himchan’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What are you talking a-“
“Go inside.” The gleam in Yongguk’s eyes brightened as Himchan’s lips parted in surprise. “I told you your plan worked. Just not in the way you thought.” He nudged him towards the door. “Go on. He’s been waiting a long time for you.”
The door couldn’t be opened fast enough, the wall booming as Himchan slammed it open. He ran through the kitchen and living room to his bedroom where he knew he’d be waiting.
This time he carefully cracked the door, his hand squeezing tightly to the knob and breath coming out in pants.
“Junhong?” He whispered to the huddled figure sitting motionless on his bed, stuffed frog held tightly against him.
In the half-second between when the head lifted and the giant dimpled smile was visible was the moment Junhong finally stopped breaking his heart and started putting it back together.
“Himchan!” And Junhong was in his arms and Junhong was kissing him and Junhong was breathing him in and Junhong remembered him. Breath tickled his neck and soft skin nuzzled against him. “I told you I would find you in the stars.” His voice was amused as he smiled against Himchan’s cheek. “What are your thoughts on circuses?”
"The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time." -Abraham Lincoln