LAST FIC FOR BIG BANG~
Title: Dead, deader, deadest
Pairing: Bae-ri
Rating: PG
Warnings: Perhaps a bit morbid if one is squeamish about death
A/N: This is my last piece for BB fandom! I might return in a distant future, but as for now, I think not. Thanks for reading, if you have been, and let’s hope we’ll meet in other fandoms down the road~
“All this talk of suicide,” Seung-ri says. He’s talking and reading and writing at the same time - he’s starting to take after Ji-yong. Multitasking isn’t only for girls.
“It’s sad,” says Young-bae, who isn’t doing anything at all. He listens. To be quite honest, he’s the only one who enjoys Seung-ri’s thoughts. They’re raw, like sushi and pickled herring, and they never fail to poke at his heart.
Seung-ri keeps typing and Young-bae lies back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. It’s quiet now, everyone is brushing their teeth, making tea, going to sleep. Writing music, thinking thoughts.
“You’re not sad, are you, Seung-ri?”
“No. No, I think I’m happy, but so many people are sad.”
“Right you are.”
“Hyung,” Seung-ri says slowly, like he was sucking on the word to draw it out and leave more room for a pause of contemplation. Young-bae watches him suspiciously.
“If you had to go tomorrow, how would you go?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, Young-bae shifts on the bed, making a move as to sit up. “What are you writing over there?” he asks, but Seung-ri quickly snaps his Macbook closed and walks over, lying down next to him.
“I was just thinking,” he says, sprawling out on the mattress and closing his eyes like he was going to sleep.
Young-bae frowns. “About going tomorrow.”
“Or any day.”
“Seung-ri.”
The boy turns his head, eyes opening and Young-bae thinks that what he thought to be innocence at first glance is just a layer, one of many covering Seung-ri’s hidden truths. It’s uncomfortable to think about what Seung-ri’s busy little brain could be hinting at this time.
“I don’t want to discuss killing myself with you,” he says firmly, looking back and forth between Seung-ri’s eyes.
Seung-ri smiles. “No, no,” he says, “you have to understand that this is all very fictive, hyung. Only an hypothesis. I don’t want to die - I want to grow old. Really old. I want to go everywhere, I want to eat snails and kidney pie and I want to see a polar bear.”
“And find the treasure at the end of the rainbow?”
“Hell yes!” Seung-ri laughs because sometimes sarcasm is lost on him. He pokes his finger into Young-bae’s chest. “I should drag you with me.”
“Perhaps,” Young-bae says, warily so.
“Hyung, I’m only being logical here. I could get sick. You could get sick. A lot of people get sick, you know, and some are run over or killed over arguments about money, women and by the means of too much alcohol.”
Young-bae stiffens. “We’re not dying now,” he says, and Seung-ri can hear the finality his hyung is putting into those words. He recognises it, and scoots closer.
“I can’t help but think that when it all finally ends, I’d like it to be on my own terms. I didn’t ask to be born - no one should be able to force me to keep my head above the water. I have the rights to my own life.”
“You’re not going to drown yourself,” Young-bae says firmly.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous - how could I drown myself when it’s so much fun to swim? Besides, the world is beautiful.” He looks up suddenly, and with his lips pouting obscenely and rather comically, he points to them with his finger. “Unless you’re intending to drown me with your love, of course, because I think I can live with that…”
Suddenly grinning, Young-bae swats at him. “We’ve talked about this. Overstepping boundaries.”
“It’s just kissing,” Seung-ri laughs, rolling over, and resting his head on his arm. “We’re so lucky,” he says after a moment’s pause, eyes closing. “Lucky to live, to love, to eat and drink and all those things that dead things would probably kill for. Imagine how jealous the gym equipment must be, having to stay still while we run.”
“Now you’re just being stupid.”
“Either way. Even if I had no say when I was born, I’m going to have a say now, about how I live, and how I die. Unless I get hit by a train or trampled to death by a hoard of fangirling monsters, because there’s nothing I can do about that. I attract a certain amount of disaster, I reckon.”
It’s completely quiet now and only the air-conditioning is on, making a low, humming sound from the corner. Young-bae listens for a while, feeling Seung-ri’s fingers ghost over his arm, his fingertips dancing up and down his bicep.
“I don’t think everything is about control,” he concludes after a moment of thought, and he’s sending thoughts to God and things he has no power over, like fate and destiny.
“It’s probably just about luck, in the end.” Seung-ri cracks one eye open and winks at him. “And rock n’ roll,” he says.
The end.
Thank you!
Pairing: Bae-ri
Rating: PG
Warnings: Perhaps a bit morbid if one is squeamish about death
A/N: This is my last piece for BB fandom! I might return in a distant future, but as for now, I think not. Thanks for reading, if you have been, and let’s hope we’ll meet in other fandoms down the road~
“All this talk of suicide,” Seung-ri says. He’s talking and reading and writing at the same time - he’s starting to take after Ji-yong. Multitasking isn’t only for girls.
“It’s sad,” says Young-bae, who isn’t doing anything at all. He listens. To be quite honest, he’s the only one who enjoys Seung-ri’s thoughts. They’re raw, like sushi and pickled herring, and they never fail to poke at his heart.
Seung-ri keeps typing and Young-bae lies back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. It’s quiet now, everyone is brushing their teeth, making tea, going to sleep. Writing music, thinking thoughts.
“You’re not sad, are you, Seung-ri?”
“No. No, I think I’m happy, but so many people are sad.”
“Right you are.”
“Hyung,” Seung-ri says slowly, like he was sucking on the word to draw it out and leave more room for a pause of contemplation. Young-bae watches him suspiciously.
“If you had to go tomorrow, how would you go?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, Young-bae shifts on the bed, making a move as to sit up. “What are you writing over there?” he asks, but Seung-ri quickly snaps his Macbook closed and walks over, lying down next to him.
“I was just thinking,” he says, sprawling out on the mattress and closing his eyes like he was going to sleep.
Young-bae frowns. “About going tomorrow.”
“Or any day.”
“Seung-ri.”
The boy turns his head, eyes opening and Young-bae thinks that what he thought to be innocence at first glance is just a layer, one of many covering Seung-ri’s hidden truths. It’s uncomfortable to think about what Seung-ri’s busy little brain could be hinting at this time.
“I don’t want to discuss killing myself with you,” he says firmly, looking back and forth between Seung-ri’s eyes.
Seung-ri smiles. “No, no,” he says, “you have to understand that this is all very fictive, hyung. Only an hypothesis. I don’t want to die - I want to grow old. Really old. I want to go everywhere, I want to eat snails and kidney pie and I want to see a polar bear.”
“And find the treasure at the end of the rainbow?”
“Hell yes!” Seung-ri laughs because sometimes sarcasm is lost on him. He pokes his finger into Young-bae’s chest. “I should drag you with me.”
“Perhaps,” Young-bae says, warily so.
“Hyung, I’m only being logical here. I could get sick. You could get sick. A lot of people get sick, you know, and some are run over or killed over arguments about money, women and by the means of too much alcohol.”
Young-bae stiffens. “We’re not dying now,” he says, and Seung-ri can hear the finality his hyung is putting into those words. He recognises it, and scoots closer.
“I can’t help but think that when it all finally ends, I’d like it to be on my own terms. I didn’t ask to be born - no one should be able to force me to keep my head above the water. I have the rights to my own life.”
“You’re not going to drown yourself,” Young-bae says firmly.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous - how could I drown myself when it’s so much fun to swim? Besides, the world is beautiful.” He looks up suddenly, and with his lips pouting obscenely and rather comically, he points to them with his finger. “Unless you’re intending to drown me with your love, of course, because I think I can live with that…”
Suddenly grinning, Young-bae swats at him. “We’ve talked about this. Overstepping boundaries.”
“It’s just kissing,” Seung-ri laughs, rolling over, and resting his head on his arm. “We’re so lucky,” he says after a moment’s pause, eyes closing. “Lucky to live, to love, to eat and drink and all those things that dead things would probably kill for. Imagine how jealous the gym equipment must be, having to stay still while we run.”
“Now you’re just being stupid.”
“Either way. Even if I had no say when I was born, I’m going to have a say now, about how I live, and how I die. Unless I get hit by a train or trampled to death by a hoard of fangirling monsters, because there’s nothing I can do about that. I attract a certain amount of disaster, I reckon.”
It’s completely quiet now and only the air-conditioning is on, making a low, humming sound from the corner. Young-bae listens for a while, feeling Seung-ri’s fingers ghost over his arm, his fingertips dancing up and down his bicep.
“I don’t think everything is about control,” he concludes after a moment of thought, and he’s sending thoughts to God and things he has no power over, like fate and destiny.
“It’s probably just about luck, in the end.” Seung-ri cracks one eye open and winks at him. “And rock n’ roll,” he says.
The end.
Thank you!