Papercuts
Pairing: HimUp
Rated: PG13
Length: 7.7K
He was nineteen and three months old when the electrical storm that was Kim Himchan sparked its way into his life. Nineteen and working at a local mechanics barely scraping by from paycheck to paycheck. Himchan was the son of a popular car salesman and had never known the worry of what he was going to eat that night.
Jongup hated him on first sight.
“My dad will kill me if he finds out I messed up my car.” He was chewing worriedly on his nails as Jongup bent over the back of the flashy red sports car. “Isn’t there a way to not turn it into my insurance?”
“If you pay outright with cash.” Jongup told him. His head was lowered as he scribbled the damage information onto his clipboard. He didn’t care if the snobby older man could see his eye roll but he was sure his boss would be at least a little upset over it. “You’ll have to talk to Youngjae about payment. I’m just the fix it guy.”
The new customer was thankfully quiet for a few minutes as Jongup finished walking around, whistling at how torn up the fancy car was.
“I might have been going a little too fast.”
Jongup snorted because fast was an understatement. This rich brat was lucky he hadn’t killed himself. Or someone else.
“Is it really bad?”
“Only if you can’t pay for it.” He would bet his next paycheck though that whoever could afford a car this nice for their child probably gave them equally as lavish spending money. “Make sure and put your personal number on the paperwork if you want to pay for this under the table. We normally call the number listed on the insurance card and I’m assuming that’s not you.”
The man nodded thankfully and reached for Jongup’s hand but stepped back with a wince when he lifted his arm. “Ouch.”
“Are you hurt?” Jongup wasn’t equipped to deal with fixing people, only cars and the occasional motorcycle when Yongguk wasn’t around.
“No, no.” His awkward concern was brushed away with a strained smile. “I just hit my wrist on the steering wheel and it’s a little sore.” He covered up the pain with a bright expression that Jongup figured fooled a lot of people. “Thank you for taking care of my car. I’ll pick it up as soon as it’s done.”
It took so much time for him to fill the paperwork out and plead with Youngjae to not report the crash that when Jongup exited the shop and headed for home the well-dressed man was just leaving leaving the office.
Jongup chewed on the inside of his cheek and told himself that it was a bad idea to offer help, but his mother would kill him if he let someone who might be hurt hobble their way home in the dark.
“Do you want a ride somewhere?”
The only real smile he had seen that afternoon spread across the man’s bow-shaped lips and Jongup felt the first crackle of electricity shoot down his spine.
“Yes, yes. Thank you so much. Let me take you to dinner for this. By the way, I’m Himchan.”
---
He was twenty-four and seven months old when the fire went out.
When the lightning in a bottle that had kept him charged simmered down to cinders and ashes and smoke.
When Himchan died.
“I told him he drove too fast.” Jongup wished he could keep his mouth shut and make everyone leave their apartment, his apartment now, but no one would listen to him when he screamed. When he cried and beat his knuckles against the door until they were torn and bloody. “I begged him to stop because I knew one day he would do something stupid.”
Yongguk was always the stoic one at the mechanics, the one who showed up at precisely eight o’clock in the morning and said no more than a total of eight words the entire day. But he was the first one to arrive at Jongup’s when he heard the news and he was only one Jongup would let embrace him as Himchan’s casket was slowly lowered into the muddy earth.
“He thought he was invincible.” Yongguk said next to him as Jongup gulped down half of his drink. Someone had had the foresight to bring tequila and Jongup had claimed it as his own an hour earlier. “That was just Himchan. He thought nothing bad could ever happen to him. There was nothing you could say to change that.”
But Jongup didn’t care. He should have locked him inside their apartment when he left for work in the morning. He should have hid his car keys when Himchan tried to storm out of the house after all the arguments with his father. He should have told him he loved him more, put his hands on his skin more, memorized every freckle and curve of his body.
“Himchan loved you. He couldn’t even go eight hours without seeing you.” Yongguk laughed as memories of Himchan showing up halfway through Jongup’s shift popped into his mind. “Remember when he tried to get you to come home at noon because he thought he smelled gas in the apartment?”
Youngjae smiled next to him and nodded. “Or when he kept texting Jongup photos of him in his underwear, not realizing Jongup had left his phone on the desk while he was test-driving that truck?”
Jongup tried to let the memories crack through his pain but not even the times Himchan had made them all laugh could make him forget how alone he was now.
“You did everything you could.” Yongguk murmured in his ear right when he noticed Jongup was about to dissolve in front of him again. “You were the best thing in his life. He told everyone who would listen that he would be lost without you.”
“And now I’m the one who’s lost.” Jongup shrugged off the empty words his friends kept trying to shower him in. He didn’t want to hear how much Himchan loved him or how they were so perfect together. He wanted Himchan.
---
It took him four months to finally start poking through Himchan’s items in their closet. The only clothes he ever needed were clean underwear and his work coveralls so Himchan had claimed the entire closet as his own the day he moved in.
“Why do you need an entire rack for clothes when all of your things fit in one dresser drawer?” Himchan had asked as he carefully hung up the few items he had managed to grab as his father had screamed at him to get out. “As soon as I get a job and start making money I’ll have this entire closet filled up with things that don’t smell like grease and sweat.”
Jongup had quickly shown him that not everything that smelled like grease was bad.
“I guess I get the closet back now.” He whispered into the quiet bedroom. The house no longer smelled like Himchan’s horrible burnt cooking and the bed sheets had stopped smelling like his shampoo months ago. All Jongup had left was this closed door that he knew would bring Himchan back into every sense he had the second that door opened. His nose would sniff out the scent of his cologne, his fingers would stroke softly through the designer shirts Himchan never stopped loving even when his father cut him off, his eyes would see his boyfriend standing knee deep in clothes as he tried to pick out what he should wear for the day.
Jongup took a deep breath as his hand encircled the doorknob. “I’d take you over all the closet space any day.”
The first step into a world where Himchan still existed brought him to his knees and he had to breathe heavily to fight back the nausea curling up this throat.
No matter how neat and clean Jongup tried to make him Himchan could never keep it up for more than a few days. He had grown so used to being waited on hand and foot that folding his clothes and putting things away where they went always flew right over his head. As Jongup buried his face in the scattered clothes along the floor he shook with so much want that he thought the entire world could feel it seeping through his pores.
---
“How did it go?”
Himchan was silent on the other end of the phone and Jongup wondered if they had convinced him he was being silly and that this was all a mistake. He felt terror in every breath until Himchan sighed and sniffed quietly into the line.
“Not good.” He admitted. “He locked me in my room and said he’d give me two hours to think about what I was doing.”
Jongup curled his finger around the curtain and kept his gaze outside the window because if he had to turn around and look at Himchan’s picture stuck to his fridge he might actually break down. “What are you going to do?”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Himchan sounded indignant now, the Himchan that Jongup had fallen in love with was loud and bossy and such a brat that it made his head spin with desire. “I’m going to have a gay porn going on my computer for when he opens the door and I’m going to saunter right out of here in skintight red leather pants and a cowboy hat, that’s what I’m going to do.”
He laughed loudly because Himchan was the silver lining to his storm cloud and always knew exactly the right thing to say to break through his dark moods.
“You don’t even have red leather pants.” Jongup teased him, settling back against the window and glancing up towards Himchan’s picture. “And if you do then I’m offended I haven’t seen them yet.”
Himchan tsked in his ear then turned silent. “He was really really mad at me, Jongup. He said things… Things I never knew he thought about me.” He wanted Himchan in his arms and in his bed and in his eyesight because they were too far apart tonight. “I don’t think he’ll let me stay here when I tell him I really am gay and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
Jongup smiled. Sometimes Himchan was so blind and so stupid. “You’ll come stay here then. I don’t mind if you’re gay. In fact I’m kinda happy about it.”
“Happy?”
“Ecstatic actually.” Jongup could hear the amusement in his boyfriend’s voice and knew he had him in the palm of his hand. “I’ll leave the door unlocked then?”
Himchan was silent for a moment before he let out a deep breath. “I’ll be there as soon as he lets me out.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
---
“Do you need help?”
He stared blankly at the open closet door and didn’t even hear Yongguk’s question in his ear until he repeated it twice more. “No. No, I want to do this by myself. He’d be pissed if one of you accidentally wrinkled something.”
Yongguk laughed weakly. “Okay, but at least call me or Jae when you’re done so we know how you’re doing. Do you want to come for supper tonight? We’re getting pizza.”
He counted the pairs of shoes twice, wondering where Himchan’s favorite sneakers were before he remembered he had been wearing them when it happened. “What did they do with his things?” He asked suddenly. “His clothes he was wearing, his wallet, his phone?”
“Jongup… You don’t really want them. They probably threw the clothes away because…” Because Himchan was devoured by the metal and the twisting and the fury. “They gave us a bag at the hospital. I think Youngjae put it up in the attic because we weren’t sure you wanted to see it.”
“What’s in it?”
Yongguk covered the phone and whispered the question to Youngjae. “Just the personal items they were able to save. It’s a small bag. Do you want me to bring it by?”
“No, no that’s okay. I can get it at work tomorrow.” He would give his left arm to have it now, to hold the last things Himchan had with him when he died, but he didn’t want to ask his only friends to go out of their way any more than they already had for him. For the last four months they had fawned over him like mother hens and even though it helped, it wasn’t close to the comfort Himchan gave him. “Thanks Yongguk.”
“You should know by now you don’t have to thank us for anything. You’re our friend and we want to help you. Come by later if you want some pizza.”
He knew he wouldn’t, food was the last thing on his mind lately, but he agreed anyways. Food anymore was tasteless and bland and he only ate enough to keep Yongguk off his back. He remembered food fights with Himchan with lumpy mashed potatoes and burned bacon. Caramel dripped into curves and crevices and how sweet his tongue tasted for hours afterwards. Food was exciting and an adventure when Himchan was there. Now every bite lived to break him apart.
“You better have a picture of me in that bag of personal items.” He told the empty closet. “Or I’m donating your favorite cashmere sweater.” Lies that would have made Himchan swell up like an angry bullfrog if he had heard. Lies because that sweater was currently in a ball under his pillow so he could press his cheek against it while he slept.
Lies because if he couldn’t even step foot into the closet, how was he supposed to bring himself to get rid of any of it?
---
Yongguk leaned against his car, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he waited for Jongup to finish work. His jaw was clenched and he looked mad as hell, but he let a small smile cross his lips when Jongup stopped in front of him. “Jae’s pissed.”
“He doesn’t want me to have it?” Jongup guessed correctly because Yongguk nodded and pulled a small plastic bag out of his jacket pocket.
“He thinks it will just set you back.” They turned at the same time to look into the shop window where Youngjae’s face was staring stormily back at them. “I argued with him that it belonged to you and if you wanted to see it then you should have it.” He hesitated before handing the precious package over. “I looked into it when I got it out last night and I want to prepare you before you opened it up yourself. The wallet has a stain on it.” He didn’t need to describe what kind of stain because his grimace told Jongup all he needed to know. “Promise me you’ll be okay opening it up yourself?”
Jongup couldn’t make promises anymore.
“At least wait until you get home to open it so I don’t have to worry about you driving while upset.”
“I’ll be fine, Yongguk.” He plastered on the fake smile that he had been wearing for four months. “Thanks for keeping this until I could take it home with me. Tell Jae I’ll be okay.” Before Yongguk could stop him again he was heading towards his car and carefully placing the bag into the seat next to him. The spot where Himchan always sat now held him again for one last time.
The desire to discover what Himchan had carried closest to him the moment he had died grew to a slow burn inside of his chest until he was forced to pull over halfway home so that he could catch his breath. He wasn’t going to make it home with the treasure box of secrets next to him.
“Sorry Guk.” He said apologetically as he fumbled with the zipper to the plastic bag. His hands shook as he emptied the contents into his lap and raked his gaze across the last secret Himchan would ever give him.
Car keys that still held a tiny plastic keychain with ‘Jongup’ scrawled across it that Himchan had excitedly ordered at an amusement park two years earlier. The name was scratched and faded by now but Himchan refused to take it off until they went back and he could buy a new one.
Himchan’s crisp black wallet, an oblong rust-colored stain marring the pristine leather. Jongup traced the pad of his finger across the blurred circle and blinked back the wetness in his eyes because he should be long past tears by this point. When he carefully unfolded it open the image of a grinning Himchan hit him like a bullet right to the chest. Himchan had hated his driver’s license picture. Said it made him look sixteen and he had refused to even show it to Jongup for two months. He wished the last official picture of Himchan was one he had liked but Jongup had begged him not to get it retaken once he was allowed to view it. He loved Himchan’s wide smile and closed eyes and the rabbit teeth that always tried to nip him when he commented on them.
There was money in the back of the wallet, not a lot, Himchan never held onto his money for long. Jongup threw it to the floor so that it was out of his way. Money wasn’t important to him. The smell of the leather and the smoothness of the plastic holding a picture of him was all he wanted to hold onto. A shot of Jongup was next when he turned the plastic pages. Of course Himchan had chosen a picture of him stone-faced and blank-eyed as the one to proudly display in his wallet. “Your smiles are for me and me only,” He had explained in embarrassment when Jongup had asked why. “Plus you kind of look like an asshole in this picture and I don’t want anyone to know you’re really a giant ball of mush.”
He wished he had told Himchan that he had nothing to worry about because he would always be the owner of his smile and that no one except him would ever know that he cried during Titanic or that he melted when stray cats wandered into their yard.
The only other thing left from the bag was Himchan’s cellphone. Of course the battery was long drained, of course Jongup knew that, but it didn’t stop him from hopefully pressing the power button a dozen times until he gave up and held it to his chest.
The cell phone bill had come several times since the accident and he had dutifully paid it without glancing at the charges and he suddenly realized he had never called to turn the phone off. This tiny black piece of plastic still had Himchan’s pictures and Himchan’s voicemail message and Jongup had spent the last four months not hearing his voice when this whole time Yongguk and Youngjae held a tiny piece of him in their attic.
Jongup eyed the payphone across the street from where he had haphazardly parked. Without Himchan around he had no use for a phone and usually left his on the counter all day while he was at work. The pieces of junk in the bottom of his console rolled around as he frantically fumbled for change so that he could use the phone. With a shout of victory he held the coins over his head and scrambled out of the car, running across the street without looking for passing cars.
His hand held Himchan’s phone clutched tight and he had to close his eyes and count to ten before he could dial the familiar number that he probably could have typed out in his sleep. When the last number was pushed he waited for the click before Himchan’s happy voice rang out in his ear letting him know that he was away from his phone but would call back as soon as possible.
Instead the line rang.
Jongup pulled the handset away with a frown. He knew he’d dialed the right number.
It rang again.
“What the-“
“Hello?”
With a strangled moan Jongup dropped the phone and covered his mouth. “Nonononon-“
“Hello? Who is this?”
He shakily picked the handset back up and put it to his ear in horror. “Himchan?” He whispered, the name sounding so wrong on his tongue. “Baby?”
“Jonguppie?” The worried voice on the other end changed into a tone that Jongup knew held a grin behind it. “You idiot, you left your phone at home and I had already called you eight times before I realized. I was worried sick about you. Where are you?”
He couldn’t bear to uncover his mouth because if he did then whatever dream he was having would be rocked awake by the sound of his screams. Tears dripped between the cracks in his fingers and he pleaded with his brain to never let him wake up if sleeping meant hearing Himchan’s voice so vividly in his mind.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Himchan voice lost its teasing and Jongup tried so hard to remember that it wasn’t really Himchan, but his brain and his heart refused to agree. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?”
“No!” Even if this was the best (worst) dream he’d had since the accident, the thought of Dream Himchan on the roads still made his breathing stop. “I-I’m fine. I’m great. I’m so happy. What are you doing? Right now, what are you doing right now?”
Himchan laughed softly, the deep sound warm and comforting in his ear. “Why are you acting so weird? You better not be drinking on the job or Youngjae will tear you apart.” Jongup could hear the sound of the TV being turned off and he knew Himchan had some stupid traveling show on because those were his favorite and he always had them playing in the background even if he wasn’t watching. “I’m doing laundry and wondering if I should cook or order out for when you get home.”
“Order out.” They both said at the same time.
Jongup would eat all the burned chicken and black rice in the world if he could and he’d tell Himchan that it was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten and he would mean every word.
“I miss you.” He had so many things he wanted to say but he didn’t know how much longer he’d have this Himchan mirage in his ear and maybe he wasn’t even hearing anything at all. Maybe he had completely and utterly lost his mind somewhere on the way and home and was actually sitting in his driver’s seat with his brain turned to soup. “I’d do anything to hold you right now.”
“You’re off work in two hours you big baby.” Himchan’s words were mean but he never meant the sarcasm, he would always wink and grin brightly at him when he threw out a callous remark. “When you get home we’ll order barbeque and maybe if you ask me nicely I’ll rub your back.”
“You have thirty seconds left on your call.” The robotic voice broke in interrupting them but Jongup wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet, he had so much more in his heart that he needed Himchan to know and thirty seconds wouldn’t even put a dent in his ache.
“Are you calling me on a payphone?” Himchan sounded amused. “Did you get off work early? You did, didn’t you, oh my god Moon Jongup, you couldn’t even wait ten more minutes to see my ugly face?”
Jongup leaned his forehead against the glass and wondered if this was a dream if there was a chance some version of Himchan could be waiting on him when he got home. A blurry version, one where Jongup’s hands went straight through him or was so misshapen that he couldn’t see the curves and dimples that he normally had memorized.
“I’ll see you when I get home, okay?” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I love you, Himchan.”
“I love you loser.”
The phone disconnected in his ear and half of Jongup wanted to stay curled up in the bottom of this payphone both holding tightly to the memory of Himchan’s voice but the other half was screaming at him to go home because maybe the last four months hadn’t really happened. Maybe Himchan was alive and breathing and whole again in their apartment, black eyes shining with laughter as Jongup sobbed brokenly into his chest about everything he had dreamed.
With trembling legs he forced himself back into the car and the first thing he laid eyes on was Himchan’s battered wallet, the dried stain of his blood staring back teasingly at Jongup. It wasn’t a dream, it was his life now. Himchan was gone forever and the impact of losing him was finally starting to drive Jongup crazy.
“I’d rather be crazy and hear your voice than be without you.” He murmured, cradling the bag of Himchan’s things against his chest as he drove home, eyes mindful of the speed.
When he haphazardly parked his car he burst out with wild speed, racing towards the door and tripping over his feet as he finally got the door unlocked.
“Himchan?” He threw his keys to the floor and ran through the house, gazing with need at every nook and cranny. “Baby?” The bathtub curtain was thrown back and even the hallway closet was closely inspected. “Hello?” His voice finally broke when he realized he was wrong, so wrong, and nothing had changed. Himchan was still gone, Himchan had always been gone.
He had those four minutes completely out of his mind where he could still hear Himchan’s voice and that was so much more than most people got. Maybe he should just be thankful.
Maybe he would try again tomorrow.
---
“Hello, this is Himchan, I’m currently annoyed at my boyfriend right now and am refusing to talk to him so please leave a message after the beep. Beep.”
Waves of relief washed over Jongup’s body like a warm bath. Whatever was happening to him at six o’clock every night didn’t have to be explained, he would never tell anyone anyways. This was his secret and he was going to drown in it for as long as he was able to.
“I said beep.”
“I knew it was you.” Jongup grinned so widely he thought his face would crack. “What are you mad at me for this time?”
Himchan tutted down the line. “You left every light in the house on when you went to work this morning. Do you realize how much that costs?”
He sunk to the floor of the payphone and covered his other ear so that Himchan’s voice could never escape from his mind. “Yeah but I pay the bills. And every time you get up in the dark you trip over something.”
“Are you trying to say I don’t do anything?” Himchan huffed into his ear. “I buy the groceries and I cook for you and I do all the laundry and dishes and sometimes I even put my mouth on very, very nau-“
“Y-yeah, got it.” The euphoria of hearing the man he loves voice again was cut short by the knowledge that there would be no more mouths in naughty places ever again. This Himchan-haze he had somehow convinced his brain to allow only lasted for the four minutes of their phone conversation. Once it was over he had to go home to a cold house and an empty bed. “What day is it?”
“Are you drunk again? It’s Thursday.”
“Thursday the what?”
Himchan sighed. “Jongup, you’ve been acting completely insane. Last night you called me and talked like a crazy person and then when I asked you about it before bed you didn’t even remember. Now you can’t tell me the date?” His annoyed voice turned softer. “Is there something wrong? Do you need to talk about something?”
He shook his head, fingers digging in harshly over his eyes until he saw sparks and fireworks. “No, I’m fine. I just miss you so much when I’m at work and I want to hear your voice. It makes me embarrassed so don’t mention my phone calls to me when I get home, okay?”
“Like a dirty secret?” Himchan laughed. “I can be your dirty secret. That’s kind of hot.”
Jongup imagined Himchan’s bright smile and the dimple under his eye that he hated so much but that Jongup adored. He pretended Himchan’s slim fingers were tickling along his stomach, over his ribcage and up his sternum where they rested on top of his heart.
“I would never keep you a secret.” He told him earnestly. “I would shout it to the world how much I loved you.”
“You’re being so weird. But it’s better than the bad mood you’ve had for the last few days so I’m not complaining.” Himchan blew kisses into the phone until he made Jongup laugh. “Have you talked to Youngjae yet about taking Monday off?”
He knew immediately what Thursday this was now. Knew why this week was so important in their relationship and why his brain would pick this particular week to start reliving Himchan.
Tomorrow was the day Himchan would die.
Tomorrow Himchan would scream at him when he came home from work.
Tomorrow Jongup would apologize over and over for not being able to take their anniversary off because they had an important client bringing their car in that day and he had to be there or someone else would get the commission.
Tomorrow Himchan would storm out with his keys in his fist and he would tell Jongup not to call him and Jongup would watch him slam the door.
“I’m sorry,” He gasped, because maybe this was why he had been imagining this. Maybe he needed to say he was sorry and hear that Himchan wasn’t angry at him, that he didn’t die with hatred in his heart for him. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
Himchan was quiet until Jongup had calmed down and caught his breath. “You’re starting to scare me, Jongup. Promise me nothing’s happening with you that I need to know about.”
He wanted to tell Himchan the truth but the words stuck in his throat and “You have thirty seconds left on your call.” interrupted anything he could ever say.
“I’m going to leave you a surprise.” Himchan told him quickly. “And you don’t even have to let me know you got it. I just want you to have something with you while you’re at work and miss me. I’ll leave it under the passenger seat, yeah?”
Jongup nodded even though Himchan couldn’t see it. “I’ll see you when I get home. I love you, I love you so much.”
“I love y-“
The phone cut off before Himchan could finish his sentence but it was enough to send Jongup’s heart pounding into a fever pitch inside of him. Words he would never get enough of hearing, words that he had heard in happiness and in pleasure and even thrown at him in anger.
He laid his head back on the seat when he finally managed to stumble back to his car. Their four minutes together ran through his mind over and over until the sentences smudged together and he couldn’t remember what was real and what was in his mind anymore. All he knew was that Himchan was going to die tomorrow all over again and he would be alone. This was all a dream, it had to be a dream, there was no possible way God had chosen him to receive this miraculous gift of reliving their last week together.
Holding his breath and closing his eyes he slowly edged his hand under the passenger seat, fingers prodding the carpet and metal rods, feeling nothing. He let out the ragged breath, because he should have known, when the top of his hand brushed against the bottom of the seat and a piece of paper taped to the plastic fluttered down to the ground.
Jonguppie!!!
He barked out a laugh at the exaggerated swirls surrounding his name and the numerous hearts and smiley faces dotted all over the small folded piece of paper.
You’re acting so strange when you call me. A normal person would think you were cheating but you’ve begged for sex every night for the last week so I’m not worried about that. But I do sometimes worry about you and how stressed you get over work. Please don’t think you have to work so hard to keep me happy. I like nice things but I LOVE you. Seeing your dirty greasy face come through the door every night is better than any present or date in the world. Sometimes I lose my temper with you because seeing you anxious makes me so mad I could scream. You don’t deserve all of this pressure and I’m so sorry if it’s because of me.
I love you.
Himchan
The note was dated the day before Himchan had wrecked. He really had put a surprise under the seat the very night he had told Jongup he would. If he sat and thought over it all day he would second guess his instincts and call it a coincidence but the only thing that kept his head above water was telling himself that somewhere out there was a Himchan that was still breathing and that loved him.
---
“Come over tonight. We’re going to the movies and you can crash on our couch.” Youngjae leaned against the open hood of the truck Jongup was bent over. His normally serious face was bent into an awkward smile, probably because Yongguk had put him up to this. He knew his friends cared about him but they were as unsociable and private as he was so their constantly trying to get him out of the house must have been uncomfortable. “Yongguk has asked every night this week and you keep saying no. He said I’m not allowed to accept no for an answer.”
Jongup placed the dirty rag he was using beside him. “I think I’m just going to go home a-“
“No.” Youngjae’s smile dropped and the annoyed expression Jongup was used to slid across his face. “You’re not going to go home and sit by yourself in your bedroom and stare at the ceiling. It’s been four months, Jongup. He wouldn’t want you to be alone, you know that.”
He was right. Himchan would be so angry at him if he knew Jongup was closing himself off from the world and refusing offers of company.
“Just… Not tonight, okay?” He couldn’t think about anything but the payphone waiting for him halfway to home and whether or not it would give him this one last gift. “I’ll come over tomorrow.”
Youngjae narrowed his eyes. “Promise?”
He nodded, not looking at him because making plans for anything past the current day was too hard. Telling himself to keep breathing and wanting to live for more than a few hours at a time was almost too much to take.
“Fine. I’ll tell Yongguk.” Before he headed back towards the office Youngjae hesitantly placed a hand on Jongup’s shoulder. “We just want you to be happy again. It’s what Himchan would want, too.”
He didn’t like hearing his name spoken in hushed tones. Himchan was a word that should be shouted from the rooftops or said while laughing and smiling because Himchan was loud and vibrant and full of so much joy for life. He didn’t deserve his name spoken so quietly.
Paper cuts, Jongup thought to himself as Youngjae walked away. That’s what living without Himchan was like. Tiny little paper cuts covering every square inch of his body and each one represented one thing he was living without. You could go hours without remembering one was there until something touched upon it and it made you feel sharpness and pain deep inside the shallow cuts.
His name was the cut over his ear.
The touch of his skin was a slit across the pad of every finger.
Across his heart was a six inch long gash that throbbed with the memory of his smile.
A million paper cuts that would never close.
---
Last phone call. Last chance to hear Himchan tell him he loved him and let the low tone of his voice wash over him like a blanket.
“Is this going to be a regular thing?” Himchan was laughing as he picked up. “You’re five minutes later than the last two nights and I was already starting to wonder if you’d call.”
Jongup knew he couldn’t tell Himchan that this couldn’t be a regular occurrence because in a few hours he would be dead.
Could he change his destiny, did he have that power?
“Sweet baby.” Himchan sighed into his ear. “You’re upset again. Hurry up and come home so we can be slobs on the couch in our pajamas. It’s Shirtless Friday by the way. And maybe Pantless Friday if you’re into that.”
The snort slipped through the thick wall he had built for himself just for this conversation. All day he had told himself over and over not to get emotional and worry Himchan but he never wanted this phone call to end.
“I’m always into that. We should make that an every Friday rule.”
“Did you talk to Jae? Are you going to be home Monday? I know it’s stupid but you’ve always been off for our anniversary and I want to spend the whole day with you just doing nothing.” Himchan sounded like he was seconds away from begging because Jongup remembered how earnest he had been about wanting to take the day off together.
He didn’t want to fight with him, not today, not when they only had two and a half minutes left together.
“Let’s make a compromise.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and pleaded with whatever force was listening to let him have this, just let him have this one thing. “I really need to work Monday because it’s a big commission but I don’t want you to think it’s more important than you.” Himchan was silent on the other end and Jongup vibrated wildly with worry that he was going to blow up any second and everything would be for nothing. “How about I work Monday but in a few months when things calm down, four months at the most, I take an entire week off and we do whatever you want.”
“A whole week?” Himchan didn’t sound convinced, but he also didn’t sound pissed off. “You would take an entire week off just to spend with me?”
Jongup laughed shakily. “I would take the rest of my life off to be with you if it was what you needed. Just promise me you won’t get mad and leave angry tonight. Please, please promise me.” He wondered what this version of Jongup would say if Himchan mentioned their conversation. “And don’t ask me when I get home about taking a week off later on. I want it to be a surprise.”
“You have thirty seconds left on your call.”
Jongup squeezed the handset so tightly he could feel the plastic embedding into his palm. “Don’t drive when you’re angry, Himchan. No matter what just promise me that. Please, listen to me. I love you, I love you, I’ll see you when I get home, I promise.”
“What are you… Don’t cry, are you crying? I love you, please don’t cry.”
He sobbed silently into the crook of his elbow but Himchan could hear it plainly through the line because he was dissolving into a mess of tears, so many needs pouring out of his body and through the line.
The finality of the click was even harder to hear than the following silence. It was over, he had tried his hardest but he could still remember the smoothness of Himchan’s casket under his fingers and the sickening sweetness of the roses his mother had covered the grave with. He shouldn’t still hold those memories if it had worked, he should be driving home with a smile on his face because he was so close to the man he loved.
The drive home felt like it took hours, his mind not even bothering to pay attention to the road as he drove. He didn’t care if he lost control and crashed through the trees or wrapped his car around a light pole. Then he would be with Himchan again. Not just hearing his voice over a scratchy phone line, but next to him for forever.
He frowned at the empty mailbox beside the front door of his apartment. When Himchan was there he always made a mad dash towards the mailman as soon as he headed up their street but now Jongup barely paid attention to the sparse bills and ads because he had unsubscribed to all of Himchan’s magazines and newspapers a month after he was gone. There was always something left inside the box though, even if it was just a random letter asking for donations.
Shrugging, he guessed that he just happened to have nothing that day even if it had never happened before.
Jongup opened the door and froze.
The TV that he never used anymore was loud, someone screaming as they jumped from a hot air balloon, the logo to a travel channel visible in the corner of the screen.
“Him-“
The longer he stood there inhaling deep, wheezing breaths he noticed he was inhaling the aroma of something cooking on top of the stove. A bubbling, gray mess that was fifteen seconds away from boiling over.
“-Chan?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He immediately covered his face with his palms and sunk to the floor, face buried inside his arms and body shaking so rapidly that his teeth snapped together painfully over his tongue. “Nonono, don’t do this, nonon-“
“Jongup?” Steady arms encircled him around the waist and he felt himself being dragged into a warm lap and pressed against a fluttering heartbeat that sounded like heaven against his ear. “Shh sweetheart, what’s wrong, why are you crying?”
He couldn’t look up because what if he was dreaming again and this time his brain was cruel enough to give him Himchan’s face and then snatch it away just as easily. But he had to see, he had to look at him every second he could until it was all over.
“Are you a dream?”
Himchan pulled his hands away from his face with a laugh. His eyes were curled up in amusement but the worry was evident in his voice. “Did you fall asleep at work and have a nightmare? Tell me we’re not slipping back into the overly emotional Jongup who calls me every night and is a complete basket case. Because I love needy Jonguppie but I was worried to hell about you.”
The black hair was cut shorter than the last time Jongup had seen him and there was a shaving nick on his jaw that would probably last for weeks because Himchan had always had paper thin skin that showed every bump and bruise like a giant billboard.
But he was here, he was home, he was solid inside Jongup’s arms. Flesh and bone and blood with a smile that was just for him and eyes that could look into his own with equal parts electricity and calm.
“I dreamed you died.”
“That’s… That’s really messed up.” Himchan furrowed his brow. “Was it vivid?”
Jongup traced the arch of his eyebrows and the line of his nose. “I lost you for months.” He didn’t remember why he had been so upset over everything. Himchan was here and he should devote every second showing him what he meant to him and spend less time worrying about nightmares and regrets. “I wanted to die, too.”
Himchan pushed him down to the floor and sprawled across him, the weight keeping him tethered and sane. “If I died and you got all emo suicidal I would seriously haunt your ass.” He was heavy and soft and felt so real on top of him and Jongup wanted to stay like this for days. “When I die you have to stay alive and happy so I can watch you and know you’re okay.” He grinned wickedly as his hips rocked backwards and Jongup hissed through his teeth. “But I am okay with you staying single. If you brought someone else home I would roll over in my grave.”
“Stop.” He didn’t like Himchan talking about it like it was a done deal, like Jongup was going to lose him again. When I die. When was so final. “Don’t say that.”
“You know it’s okay to be happy right?” Himchan lifted his hand and uncurled Jongup’s clenched fist. “I won’t be angry at you for smiling once in a while.”
He didn’t like this, he wanted happy laughing Himchan back.
“And you should go out with Yongguk and Youngjae more often. They care about you and it’s breaking their hearts that you’re so lonely.”
“Stop.” He murmured the word again but Himchan didn’t pay attention. “Please-“
“Don’t go to sleep every night thinking I was angry at you. Or that I died without knowing how much you loved me.” Himchan finally smiled again but it was with regret and longing. He pulled a limp Jongup up by the collar and kissed the side of his jaw, feather light kisses that felt like the flutter of wings on his heated skin. “Be happy, Jongup. And I’ll see you when you come home.”
Jongup jerked upwards with a gasp, the blanket falling away from him in a soaked heap on the bed. He wiped the sweat from his eyes before looking beside him to where Himchan always slept, curled up on his left with a leg thrown over Jongup.
He was twenty-four and eleven months old when the last lingering vestige of Himchan’s spark finally blew out.
Rated: PG13
Length: 7.7K
He was nineteen and three months old when the electrical storm that was Kim Himchan sparked its way into his life. Nineteen and working at a local mechanics barely scraping by from paycheck to paycheck. Himchan was the son of a popular car salesman and had never known the worry of what he was going to eat that night.
Jongup hated him on first sight.
“My dad will kill me if he finds out I messed up my car.” He was chewing worriedly on his nails as Jongup bent over the back of the flashy red sports car. “Isn’t there a way to not turn it into my insurance?”
“If you pay outright with cash.” Jongup told him. His head was lowered as he scribbled the damage information onto his clipboard. He didn’t care if the snobby older man could see his eye roll but he was sure his boss would be at least a little upset over it. “You’ll have to talk to Youngjae about payment. I’m just the fix it guy.”
The new customer was thankfully quiet for a few minutes as Jongup finished walking around, whistling at how torn up the fancy car was.
“I might have been going a little too fast.”
Jongup snorted because fast was an understatement. This rich brat was lucky he hadn’t killed himself. Or someone else.
“Is it really bad?”
“Only if you can’t pay for it.” He would bet his next paycheck though that whoever could afford a car this nice for their child probably gave them equally as lavish spending money. “Make sure and put your personal number on the paperwork if you want to pay for this under the table. We normally call the number listed on the insurance card and I’m assuming that’s not you.”
The man nodded thankfully and reached for Jongup’s hand but stepped back with a wince when he lifted his arm. “Ouch.”
“Are you hurt?” Jongup wasn’t equipped to deal with fixing people, only cars and the occasional motorcycle when Yongguk wasn’t around.
“No, no.” His awkward concern was brushed away with a strained smile. “I just hit my wrist on the steering wheel and it’s a little sore.” He covered up the pain with a bright expression that Jongup figured fooled a lot of people. “Thank you for taking care of my car. I’ll pick it up as soon as it’s done.”
It took so much time for him to fill the paperwork out and plead with Youngjae to not report the crash that when Jongup exited the shop and headed for home the well-dressed man was just leaving leaving the office.
Jongup chewed on the inside of his cheek and told himself that it was a bad idea to offer help, but his mother would kill him if he let someone who might be hurt hobble their way home in the dark.
“Do you want a ride somewhere?”
The only real smile he had seen that afternoon spread across the man’s bow-shaped lips and Jongup felt the first crackle of electricity shoot down his spine.
“Yes, yes. Thank you so much. Let me take you to dinner for this. By the way, I’m Himchan.”
---
He was twenty-four and seven months old when the fire went out.
When the lightning in a bottle that had kept him charged simmered down to cinders and ashes and smoke.
When Himchan died.
“I told him he drove too fast.” Jongup wished he could keep his mouth shut and make everyone leave their apartment, his apartment now, but no one would listen to him when he screamed. When he cried and beat his knuckles against the door until they were torn and bloody. “I begged him to stop because I knew one day he would do something stupid.”
Yongguk was always the stoic one at the mechanics, the one who showed up at precisely eight o’clock in the morning and said no more than a total of eight words the entire day. But he was the first one to arrive at Jongup’s when he heard the news and he was only one Jongup would let embrace him as Himchan’s casket was slowly lowered into the muddy earth.
“He thought he was invincible.” Yongguk said next to him as Jongup gulped down half of his drink. Someone had had the foresight to bring tequila and Jongup had claimed it as his own an hour earlier. “That was just Himchan. He thought nothing bad could ever happen to him. There was nothing you could say to change that.”
But Jongup didn’t care. He should have locked him inside their apartment when he left for work in the morning. He should have hid his car keys when Himchan tried to storm out of the house after all the arguments with his father. He should have told him he loved him more, put his hands on his skin more, memorized every freckle and curve of his body.
“Himchan loved you. He couldn’t even go eight hours without seeing you.” Yongguk laughed as memories of Himchan showing up halfway through Jongup’s shift popped into his mind. “Remember when he tried to get you to come home at noon because he thought he smelled gas in the apartment?”
Youngjae smiled next to him and nodded. “Or when he kept texting Jongup photos of him in his underwear, not realizing Jongup had left his phone on the desk while he was test-driving that truck?”
Jongup tried to let the memories crack through his pain but not even the times Himchan had made them all laugh could make him forget how alone he was now.
“You did everything you could.” Yongguk murmured in his ear right when he noticed Jongup was about to dissolve in front of him again. “You were the best thing in his life. He told everyone who would listen that he would be lost without you.”
“And now I’m the one who’s lost.” Jongup shrugged off the empty words his friends kept trying to shower him in. He didn’t want to hear how much Himchan loved him or how they were so perfect together. He wanted Himchan.
---
It took him four months to finally start poking through Himchan’s items in their closet. The only clothes he ever needed were clean underwear and his work coveralls so Himchan had claimed the entire closet as his own the day he moved in.
“Why do you need an entire rack for clothes when all of your things fit in one dresser drawer?” Himchan had asked as he carefully hung up the few items he had managed to grab as his father had screamed at him to get out. “As soon as I get a job and start making money I’ll have this entire closet filled up with things that don’t smell like grease and sweat.”
Jongup had quickly shown him that not everything that smelled like grease was bad.
“I guess I get the closet back now.” He whispered into the quiet bedroom. The house no longer smelled like Himchan’s horrible burnt cooking and the bed sheets had stopped smelling like his shampoo months ago. All Jongup had left was this closed door that he knew would bring Himchan back into every sense he had the second that door opened. His nose would sniff out the scent of his cologne, his fingers would stroke softly through the designer shirts Himchan never stopped loving even when his father cut him off, his eyes would see his boyfriend standing knee deep in clothes as he tried to pick out what he should wear for the day.
Jongup took a deep breath as his hand encircled the doorknob. “I’d take you over all the closet space any day.”
The first step into a world where Himchan still existed brought him to his knees and he had to breathe heavily to fight back the nausea curling up this throat.
No matter how neat and clean Jongup tried to make him Himchan could never keep it up for more than a few days. He had grown so used to being waited on hand and foot that folding his clothes and putting things away where they went always flew right over his head. As Jongup buried his face in the scattered clothes along the floor he shook with so much want that he thought the entire world could feel it seeping through his pores.
---
“How did it go?”
Himchan was silent on the other end of the phone and Jongup wondered if they had convinced him he was being silly and that this was all a mistake. He felt terror in every breath until Himchan sighed and sniffed quietly into the line.
“Not good.” He admitted. “He locked me in my room and said he’d give me two hours to think about what I was doing.”
Jongup curled his finger around the curtain and kept his gaze outside the window because if he had to turn around and look at Himchan’s picture stuck to his fridge he might actually break down. “What are you going to do?”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Himchan sounded indignant now, the Himchan that Jongup had fallen in love with was loud and bossy and such a brat that it made his head spin with desire. “I’m going to have a gay porn going on my computer for when he opens the door and I’m going to saunter right out of here in skintight red leather pants and a cowboy hat, that’s what I’m going to do.”
He laughed loudly because Himchan was the silver lining to his storm cloud and always knew exactly the right thing to say to break through his dark moods.
“You don’t even have red leather pants.” Jongup teased him, settling back against the window and glancing up towards Himchan’s picture. “And if you do then I’m offended I haven’t seen them yet.”
Himchan tsked in his ear then turned silent. “He was really really mad at me, Jongup. He said things… Things I never knew he thought about me.” He wanted Himchan in his arms and in his bed and in his eyesight because they were too far apart tonight. “I don’t think he’ll let me stay here when I tell him I really am gay and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
Jongup smiled. Sometimes Himchan was so blind and so stupid. “You’ll come stay here then. I don’t mind if you’re gay. In fact I’m kinda happy about it.”
“Happy?”
“Ecstatic actually.” Jongup could hear the amusement in his boyfriend’s voice and knew he had him in the palm of his hand. “I’ll leave the door unlocked then?”
Himchan was silent for a moment before he let out a deep breath. “I’ll be there as soon as he lets me out.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
---
“Do you need help?”
He stared blankly at the open closet door and didn’t even hear Yongguk’s question in his ear until he repeated it twice more. “No. No, I want to do this by myself. He’d be pissed if one of you accidentally wrinkled something.”
Yongguk laughed weakly. “Okay, but at least call me or Jae when you’re done so we know how you’re doing. Do you want to come for supper tonight? We’re getting pizza.”
He counted the pairs of shoes twice, wondering where Himchan’s favorite sneakers were before he remembered he had been wearing them when it happened. “What did they do with his things?” He asked suddenly. “His clothes he was wearing, his wallet, his phone?”
“Jongup… You don’t really want them. They probably threw the clothes away because…” Because Himchan was devoured by the metal and the twisting and the fury. “They gave us a bag at the hospital. I think Youngjae put it up in the attic because we weren’t sure you wanted to see it.”
“What’s in it?”
Yongguk covered the phone and whispered the question to Youngjae. “Just the personal items they were able to save. It’s a small bag. Do you want me to bring it by?”
“No, no that’s okay. I can get it at work tomorrow.” He would give his left arm to have it now, to hold the last things Himchan had with him when he died, but he didn’t want to ask his only friends to go out of their way any more than they already had for him. For the last four months they had fawned over him like mother hens and even though it helped, it wasn’t close to the comfort Himchan gave him. “Thanks Yongguk.”
“You should know by now you don’t have to thank us for anything. You’re our friend and we want to help you. Come by later if you want some pizza.”
He knew he wouldn’t, food was the last thing on his mind lately, but he agreed anyways. Food anymore was tasteless and bland and he only ate enough to keep Yongguk off his back. He remembered food fights with Himchan with lumpy mashed potatoes and burned bacon. Caramel dripped into curves and crevices and how sweet his tongue tasted for hours afterwards. Food was exciting and an adventure when Himchan was there. Now every bite lived to break him apart.
“You better have a picture of me in that bag of personal items.” He told the empty closet. “Or I’m donating your favorite cashmere sweater.” Lies that would have made Himchan swell up like an angry bullfrog if he had heard. Lies because that sweater was currently in a ball under his pillow so he could press his cheek against it while he slept.
Lies because if he couldn’t even step foot into the closet, how was he supposed to bring himself to get rid of any of it?
---
Yongguk leaned against his car, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he waited for Jongup to finish work. His jaw was clenched and he looked mad as hell, but he let a small smile cross his lips when Jongup stopped in front of him. “Jae’s pissed.”
“He doesn’t want me to have it?” Jongup guessed correctly because Yongguk nodded and pulled a small plastic bag out of his jacket pocket.
“He thinks it will just set you back.” They turned at the same time to look into the shop window where Youngjae’s face was staring stormily back at them. “I argued with him that it belonged to you and if you wanted to see it then you should have it.” He hesitated before handing the precious package over. “I looked into it when I got it out last night and I want to prepare you before you opened it up yourself. The wallet has a stain on it.” He didn’t need to describe what kind of stain because his grimace told Jongup all he needed to know. “Promise me you’ll be okay opening it up yourself?”
Jongup couldn’t make promises anymore.
“At least wait until you get home to open it so I don’t have to worry about you driving while upset.”
“I’ll be fine, Yongguk.” He plastered on the fake smile that he had been wearing for four months. “Thanks for keeping this until I could take it home with me. Tell Jae I’ll be okay.” Before Yongguk could stop him again he was heading towards his car and carefully placing the bag into the seat next to him. The spot where Himchan always sat now held him again for one last time.
The desire to discover what Himchan had carried closest to him the moment he had died grew to a slow burn inside of his chest until he was forced to pull over halfway home so that he could catch his breath. He wasn’t going to make it home with the treasure box of secrets next to him.
“Sorry Guk.” He said apologetically as he fumbled with the zipper to the plastic bag. His hands shook as he emptied the contents into his lap and raked his gaze across the last secret Himchan would ever give him.
Car keys that still held a tiny plastic keychain with ‘Jongup’ scrawled across it that Himchan had excitedly ordered at an amusement park two years earlier. The name was scratched and faded by now but Himchan refused to take it off until they went back and he could buy a new one.
Himchan’s crisp black wallet, an oblong rust-colored stain marring the pristine leather. Jongup traced the pad of his finger across the blurred circle and blinked back the wetness in his eyes because he should be long past tears by this point. When he carefully unfolded it open the image of a grinning Himchan hit him like a bullet right to the chest. Himchan had hated his driver’s license picture. Said it made him look sixteen and he had refused to even show it to Jongup for two months. He wished the last official picture of Himchan was one he had liked but Jongup had begged him not to get it retaken once he was allowed to view it. He loved Himchan’s wide smile and closed eyes and the rabbit teeth that always tried to nip him when he commented on them.
There was money in the back of the wallet, not a lot, Himchan never held onto his money for long. Jongup threw it to the floor so that it was out of his way. Money wasn’t important to him. The smell of the leather and the smoothness of the plastic holding a picture of him was all he wanted to hold onto. A shot of Jongup was next when he turned the plastic pages. Of course Himchan had chosen a picture of him stone-faced and blank-eyed as the one to proudly display in his wallet. “Your smiles are for me and me only,” He had explained in embarrassment when Jongup had asked why. “Plus you kind of look like an asshole in this picture and I don’t want anyone to know you’re really a giant ball of mush.”
He wished he had told Himchan that he had nothing to worry about because he would always be the owner of his smile and that no one except him would ever know that he cried during Titanic or that he melted when stray cats wandered into their yard.
The only other thing left from the bag was Himchan’s cellphone. Of course the battery was long drained, of course Jongup knew that, but it didn’t stop him from hopefully pressing the power button a dozen times until he gave up and held it to his chest.
The cell phone bill had come several times since the accident and he had dutifully paid it without glancing at the charges and he suddenly realized he had never called to turn the phone off. This tiny black piece of plastic still had Himchan’s pictures and Himchan’s voicemail message and Jongup had spent the last four months not hearing his voice when this whole time Yongguk and Youngjae held a tiny piece of him in their attic.
Jongup eyed the payphone across the street from where he had haphazardly parked. Without Himchan around he had no use for a phone and usually left his on the counter all day while he was at work. The pieces of junk in the bottom of his console rolled around as he frantically fumbled for change so that he could use the phone. With a shout of victory he held the coins over his head and scrambled out of the car, running across the street without looking for passing cars.
His hand held Himchan’s phone clutched tight and he had to close his eyes and count to ten before he could dial the familiar number that he probably could have typed out in his sleep. When the last number was pushed he waited for the click before Himchan’s happy voice rang out in his ear letting him know that he was away from his phone but would call back as soon as possible.
Instead the line rang.
Jongup pulled the handset away with a frown. He knew he’d dialed the right number.
It rang again.
“What the-“
“Hello?”
With a strangled moan Jongup dropped the phone and covered his mouth. “Nonononon-“
“Hello? Who is this?”
He shakily picked the handset back up and put it to his ear in horror. “Himchan?” He whispered, the name sounding so wrong on his tongue. “Baby?”
“Jonguppie?” The worried voice on the other end changed into a tone that Jongup knew held a grin behind it. “You idiot, you left your phone at home and I had already called you eight times before I realized. I was worried sick about you. Where are you?”
He couldn’t bear to uncover his mouth because if he did then whatever dream he was having would be rocked awake by the sound of his screams. Tears dripped between the cracks in his fingers and he pleaded with his brain to never let him wake up if sleeping meant hearing Himchan’s voice so vividly in his mind.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Himchan voice lost its teasing and Jongup tried so hard to remember that it wasn’t really Himchan, but his brain and his heart refused to agree. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?”
“No!” Even if this was the best (worst) dream he’d had since the accident, the thought of Dream Himchan on the roads still made his breathing stop. “I-I’m fine. I’m great. I’m so happy. What are you doing? Right now, what are you doing right now?”
Himchan laughed softly, the deep sound warm and comforting in his ear. “Why are you acting so weird? You better not be drinking on the job or Youngjae will tear you apart.” Jongup could hear the sound of the TV being turned off and he knew Himchan had some stupid traveling show on because those were his favorite and he always had them playing in the background even if he wasn’t watching. “I’m doing laundry and wondering if I should cook or order out for when you get home.”
“Order out.” They both said at the same time.
Jongup would eat all the burned chicken and black rice in the world if he could and he’d tell Himchan that it was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten and he would mean every word.
“I miss you.” He had so many things he wanted to say but he didn’t know how much longer he’d have this Himchan mirage in his ear and maybe he wasn’t even hearing anything at all. Maybe he had completely and utterly lost his mind somewhere on the way and home and was actually sitting in his driver’s seat with his brain turned to soup. “I’d do anything to hold you right now.”
“You’re off work in two hours you big baby.” Himchan’s words were mean but he never meant the sarcasm, he would always wink and grin brightly at him when he threw out a callous remark. “When you get home we’ll order barbeque and maybe if you ask me nicely I’ll rub your back.”
“You have thirty seconds left on your call.” The robotic voice broke in interrupting them but Jongup wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet, he had so much more in his heart that he needed Himchan to know and thirty seconds wouldn’t even put a dent in his ache.
“Are you calling me on a payphone?” Himchan sounded amused. “Did you get off work early? You did, didn’t you, oh my god Moon Jongup, you couldn’t even wait ten more minutes to see my ugly face?”
Jongup leaned his forehead against the glass and wondered if this was a dream if there was a chance some version of Himchan could be waiting on him when he got home. A blurry version, one where Jongup’s hands went straight through him or was so misshapen that he couldn’t see the curves and dimples that he normally had memorized.
“I’ll see you when I get home, okay?” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I love you, Himchan.”
“I love you loser.”
The phone disconnected in his ear and half of Jongup wanted to stay curled up in the bottom of this payphone both holding tightly to the memory of Himchan’s voice but the other half was screaming at him to go home because maybe the last four months hadn’t really happened. Maybe Himchan was alive and breathing and whole again in their apartment, black eyes shining with laughter as Jongup sobbed brokenly into his chest about everything he had dreamed.
With trembling legs he forced himself back into the car and the first thing he laid eyes on was Himchan’s battered wallet, the dried stain of his blood staring back teasingly at Jongup. It wasn’t a dream, it was his life now. Himchan was gone forever and the impact of losing him was finally starting to drive Jongup crazy.
“I’d rather be crazy and hear your voice than be without you.” He murmured, cradling the bag of Himchan’s things against his chest as he drove home, eyes mindful of the speed.
When he haphazardly parked his car he burst out with wild speed, racing towards the door and tripping over his feet as he finally got the door unlocked.
“Himchan?” He threw his keys to the floor and ran through the house, gazing with need at every nook and cranny. “Baby?” The bathtub curtain was thrown back and even the hallway closet was closely inspected. “Hello?” His voice finally broke when he realized he was wrong, so wrong, and nothing had changed. Himchan was still gone, Himchan had always been gone.
He had those four minutes completely out of his mind where he could still hear Himchan’s voice and that was so much more than most people got. Maybe he should just be thankful.
Maybe he would try again tomorrow.
---
“Hello, this is Himchan, I’m currently annoyed at my boyfriend right now and am refusing to talk to him so please leave a message after the beep. Beep.”
Waves of relief washed over Jongup’s body like a warm bath. Whatever was happening to him at six o’clock every night didn’t have to be explained, he would never tell anyone anyways. This was his secret and he was going to drown in it for as long as he was able to.
“I said beep.”
“I knew it was you.” Jongup grinned so widely he thought his face would crack. “What are you mad at me for this time?”
Himchan tutted down the line. “You left every light in the house on when you went to work this morning. Do you realize how much that costs?”
He sunk to the floor of the payphone and covered his other ear so that Himchan’s voice could never escape from his mind. “Yeah but I pay the bills. And every time you get up in the dark you trip over something.”
“Are you trying to say I don’t do anything?” Himchan huffed into his ear. “I buy the groceries and I cook for you and I do all the laundry and dishes and sometimes I even put my mouth on very, very nau-“
“Y-yeah, got it.” The euphoria of hearing the man he loves voice again was cut short by the knowledge that there would be no more mouths in naughty places ever again. This Himchan-haze he had somehow convinced his brain to allow only lasted for the four minutes of their phone conversation. Once it was over he had to go home to a cold house and an empty bed. “What day is it?”
“Are you drunk again? It’s Thursday.”
“Thursday the what?”
Himchan sighed. “Jongup, you’ve been acting completely insane. Last night you called me and talked like a crazy person and then when I asked you about it before bed you didn’t even remember. Now you can’t tell me the date?” His annoyed voice turned softer. “Is there something wrong? Do you need to talk about something?”
He shook his head, fingers digging in harshly over his eyes until he saw sparks and fireworks. “No, I’m fine. I just miss you so much when I’m at work and I want to hear your voice. It makes me embarrassed so don’t mention my phone calls to me when I get home, okay?”
“Like a dirty secret?” Himchan laughed. “I can be your dirty secret. That’s kind of hot.”
Jongup imagined Himchan’s bright smile and the dimple under his eye that he hated so much but that Jongup adored. He pretended Himchan’s slim fingers were tickling along his stomach, over his ribcage and up his sternum where they rested on top of his heart.
“I would never keep you a secret.” He told him earnestly. “I would shout it to the world how much I loved you.”
“You’re being so weird. But it’s better than the bad mood you’ve had for the last few days so I’m not complaining.” Himchan blew kisses into the phone until he made Jongup laugh. “Have you talked to Youngjae yet about taking Monday off?”
He knew immediately what Thursday this was now. Knew why this week was so important in their relationship and why his brain would pick this particular week to start reliving Himchan.
Tomorrow was the day Himchan would die.
Tomorrow Himchan would scream at him when he came home from work.
Tomorrow Jongup would apologize over and over for not being able to take their anniversary off because they had an important client bringing their car in that day and he had to be there or someone else would get the commission.
Tomorrow Himchan would storm out with his keys in his fist and he would tell Jongup not to call him and Jongup would watch him slam the door.
“I’m sorry,” He gasped, because maybe this was why he had been imagining this. Maybe he needed to say he was sorry and hear that Himchan wasn’t angry at him, that he didn’t die with hatred in his heart for him. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”
Himchan was quiet until Jongup had calmed down and caught his breath. “You’re starting to scare me, Jongup. Promise me nothing’s happening with you that I need to know about.”
He wanted to tell Himchan the truth but the words stuck in his throat and “You have thirty seconds left on your call.” interrupted anything he could ever say.
“I’m going to leave you a surprise.” Himchan told him quickly. “And you don’t even have to let me know you got it. I just want you to have something with you while you’re at work and miss me. I’ll leave it under the passenger seat, yeah?”
Jongup nodded even though Himchan couldn’t see it. “I’ll see you when I get home. I love you, I love you so much.”
“I love y-“
The phone cut off before Himchan could finish his sentence but it was enough to send Jongup’s heart pounding into a fever pitch inside of him. Words he would never get enough of hearing, words that he had heard in happiness and in pleasure and even thrown at him in anger.
He laid his head back on the seat when he finally managed to stumble back to his car. Their four minutes together ran through his mind over and over until the sentences smudged together and he couldn’t remember what was real and what was in his mind anymore. All he knew was that Himchan was going to die tomorrow all over again and he would be alone. This was all a dream, it had to be a dream, there was no possible way God had chosen him to receive this miraculous gift of reliving their last week together.
Holding his breath and closing his eyes he slowly edged his hand under the passenger seat, fingers prodding the carpet and metal rods, feeling nothing. He let out the ragged breath, because he should have known, when the top of his hand brushed against the bottom of the seat and a piece of paper taped to the plastic fluttered down to the ground.
Jonguppie!!!
He barked out a laugh at the exaggerated swirls surrounding his name and the numerous hearts and smiley faces dotted all over the small folded piece of paper.
You’re acting so strange when you call me. A normal person would think you were cheating but you’ve begged for sex every night for the last week so I’m not worried about that. But I do sometimes worry about you and how stressed you get over work. Please don’t think you have to work so hard to keep me happy. I like nice things but I LOVE you. Seeing your dirty greasy face come through the door every night is better than any present or date in the world. Sometimes I lose my temper with you because seeing you anxious makes me so mad I could scream. You don’t deserve all of this pressure and I’m so sorry if it’s because of me.
I love you.
Himchan
The note was dated the day before Himchan had wrecked. He really had put a surprise under the seat the very night he had told Jongup he would. If he sat and thought over it all day he would second guess his instincts and call it a coincidence but the only thing that kept his head above water was telling himself that somewhere out there was a Himchan that was still breathing and that loved him.
---
“Come over tonight. We’re going to the movies and you can crash on our couch.” Youngjae leaned against the open hood of the truck Jongup was bent over. His normally serious face was bent into an awkward smile, probably because Yongguk had put him up to this. He knew his friends cared about him but they were as unsociable and private as he was so their constantly trying to get him out of the house must have been uncomfortable. “Yongguk has asked every night this week and you keep saying no. He said I’m not allowed to accept no for an answer.”
Jongup placed the dirty rag he was using beside him. “I think I’m just going to go home a-“
“No.” Youngjae’s smile dropped and the annoyed expression Jongup was used to slid across his face. “You’re not going to go home and sit by yourself in your bedroom and stare at the ceiling. It’s been four months, Jongup. He wouldn’t want you to be alone, you know that.”
He was right. Himchan would be so angry at him if he knew Jongup was closing himself off from the world and refusing offers of company.
“Just… Not tonight, okay?” He couldn’t think about anything but the payphone waiting for him halfway to home and whether or not it would give him this one last gift. “I’ll come over tomorrow.”
Youngjae narrowed his eyes. “Promise?”
He nodded, not looking at him because making plans for anything past the current day was too hard. Telling himself to keep breathing and wanting to live for more than a few hours at a time was almost too much to take.
“Fine. I’ll tell Yongguk.” Before he headed back towards the office Youngjae hesitantly placed a hand on Jongup’s shoulder. “We just want you to be happy again. It’s what Himchan would want, too.”
He didn’t like hearing his name spoken in hushed tones. Himchan was a word that should be shouted from the rooftops or said while laughing and smiling because Himchan was loud and vibrant and full of so much joy for life. He didn’t deserve his name spoken so quietly.
Paper cuts, Jongup thought to himself as Youngjae walked away. That’s what living without Himchan was like. Tiny little paper cuts covering every square inch of his body and each one represented one thing he was living without. You could go hours without remembering one was there until something touched upon it and it made you feel sharpness and pain deep inside the shallow cuts.
His name was the cut over his ear.
The touch of his skin was a slit across the pad of every finger.
Across his heart was a six inch long gash that throbbed with the memory of his smile.
A million paper cuts that would never close.
---
Last phone call. Last chance to hear Himchan tell him he loved him and let the low tone of his voice wash over him like a blanket.
“Is this going to be a regular thing?” Himchan was laughing as he picked up. “You’re five minutes later than the last two nights and I was already starting to wonder if you’d call.”
Jongup knew he couldn’t tell Himchan that this couldn’t be a regular occurrence because in a few hours he would be dead.
Could he change his destiny, did he have that power?
“Sweet baby.” Himchan sighed into his ear. “You’re upset again. Hurry up and come home so we can be slobs on the couch in our pajamas. It’s Shirtless Friday by the way. And maybe Pantless Friday if you’re into that.”
The snort slipped through the thick wall he had built for himself just for this conversation. All day he had told himself over and over not to get emotional and worry Himchan but he never wanted this phone call to end.
“I’m always into that. We should make that an every Friday rule.”
“Did you talk to Jae? Are you going to be home Monday? I know it’s stupid but you’ve always been off for our anniversary and I want to spend the whole day with you just doing nothing.” Himchan sounded like he was seconds away from begging because Jongup remembered how earnest he had been about wanting to take the day off together.
He didn’t want to fight with him, not today, not when they only had two and a half minutes left together.
“Let’s make a compromise.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and pleaded with whatever force was listening to let him have this, just let him have this one thing. “I really need to work Monday because it’s a big commission but I don’t want you to think it’s more important than you.” Himchan was silent on the other end and Jongup vibrated wildly with worry that he was going to blow up any second and everything would be for nothing. “How about I work Monday but in a few months when things calm down, four months at the most, I take an entire week off and we do whatever you want.”
“A whole week?” Himchan didn’t sound convinced, but he also didn’t sound pissed off. “You would take an entire week off just to spend with me?”
Jongup laughed shakily. “I would take the rest of my life off to be with you if it was what you needed. Just promise me you won’t get mad and leave angry tonight. Please, please promise me.” He wondered what this version of Jongup would say if Himchan mentioned their conversation. “And don’t ask me when I get home about taking a week off later on. I want it to be a surprise.”
“You have thirty seconds left on your call.”
Jongup squeezed the handset so tightly he could feel the plastic embedding into his palm. “Don’t drive when you’re angry, Himchan. No matter what just promise me that. Please, listen to me. I love you, I love you, I’ll see you when I get home, I promise.”
“What are you… Don’t cry, are you crying? I love you, please don’t cry.”
He sobbed silently into the crook of his elbow but Himchan could hear it plainly through the line because he was dissolving into a mess of tears, so many needs pouring out of his body and through the line.
The finality of the click was even harder to hear than the following silence. It was over, he had tried his hardest but he could still remember the smoothness of Himchan’s casket under his fingers and the sickening sweetness of the roses his mother had covered the grave with. He shouldn’t still hold those memories if it had worked, he should be driving home with a smile on his face because he was so close to the man he loved.
The drive home felt like it took hours, his mind not even bothering to pay attention to the road as he drove. He didn’t care if he lost control and crashed through the trees or wrapped his car around a light pole. Then he would be with Himchan again. Not just hearing his voice over a scratchy phone line, but next to him for forever.
He frowned at the empty mailbox beside the front door of his apartment. When Himchan was there he always made a mad dash towards the mailman as soon as he headed up their street but now Jongup barely paid attention to the sparse bills and ads because he had unsubscribed to all of Himchan’s magazines and newspapers a month after he was gone. There was always something left inside the box though, even if it was just a random letter asking for donations.
Shrugging, he guessed that he just happened to have nothing that day even if it had never happened before.
Jongup opened the door and froze.
The TV that he never used anymore was loud, someone screaming as they jumped from a hot air balloon, the logo to a travel channel visible in the corner of the screen.
“Him-“
The longer he stood there inhaling deep, wheezing breaths he noticed he was inhaling the aroma of something cooking on top of the stove. A bubbling, gray mess that was fifteen seconds away from boiling over.
“-Chan?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He immediately covered his face with his palms and sunk to the floor, face buried inside his arms and body shaking so rapidly that his teeth snapped together painfully over his tongue. “Nonono, don’t do this, nonon-“
“Jongup?” Steady arms encircled him around the waist and he felt himself being dragged into a warm lap and pressed against a fluttering heartbeat that sounded like heaven against his ear. “Shh sweetheart, what’s wrong, why are you crying?”
He couldn’t look up because what if he was dreaming again and this time his brain was cruel enough to give him Himchan’s face and then snatch it away just as easily. But he had to see, he had to look at him every second he could until it was all over.
“Are you a dream?”
Himchan pulled his hands away from his face with a laugh. His eyes were curled up in amusement but the worry was evident in his voice. “Did you fall asleep at work and have a nightmare? Tell me we’re not slipping back into the overly emotional Jongup who calls me every night and is a complete basket case. Because I love needy Jonguppie but I was worried to hell about you.”
The black hair was cut shorter than the last time Jongup had seen him and there was a shaving nick on his jaw that would probably last for weeks because Himchan had always had paper thin skin that showed every bump and bruise like a giant billboard.
But he was here, he was home, he was solid inside Jongup’s arms. Flesh and bone and blood with a smile that was just for him and eyes that could look into his own with equal parts electricity and calm.
“I dreamed you died.”
“That’s… That’s really messed up.” Himchan furrowed his brow. “Was it vivid?”
Jongup traced the arch of his eyebrows and the line of his nose. “I lost you for months.” He didn’t remember why he had been so upset over everything. Himchan was here and he should devote every second showing him what he meant to him and spend less time worrying about nightmares and regrets. “I wanted to die, too.”
Himchan pushed him down to the floor and sprawled across him, the weight keeping him tethered and sane. “If I died and you got all emo suicidal I would seriously haunt your ass.” He was heavy and soft and felt so real on top of him and Jongup wanted to stay like this for days. “When I die you have to stay alive and happy so I can watch you and know you’re okay.” He grinned wickedly as his hips rocked backwards and Jongup hissed through his teeth. “But I am okay with you staying single. If you brought someone else home I would roll over in my grave.”
“Stop.” He didn’t like Himchan talking about it like it was a done deal, like Jongup was going to lose him again. When I die. When was so final. “Don’t say that.”
“You know it’s okay to be happy right?” Himchan lifted his hand and uncurled Jongup’s clenched fist. “I won’t be angry at you for smiling once in a while.”
He didn’t like this, he wanted happy laughing Himchan back.
“And you should go out with Yongguk and Youngjae more often. They care about you and it’s breaking their hearts that you’re so lonely.”
“Stop.” He murmured the word again but Himchan didn’t pay attention. “Please-“
“Don’t go to sleep every night thinking I was angry at you. Or that I died without knowing how much you loved me.” Himchan finally smiled again but it was with regret and longing. He pulled a limp Jongup up by the collar and kissed the side of his jaw, feather light kisses that felt like the flutter of wings on his heated skin. “Be happy, Jongup. And I’ll see you when you come home.”
Jongup jerked upwards with a gasp, the blanket falling away from him in a soaked heap on the bed. He wiped the sweat from his eyes before looking beside him to where Himchan always slept, curled up on his left with a leg thrown over Jongup.
He was twenty-four and eleven months old when the last lingering vestige of Himchan’s spark finally blew out.