Amrita
Title: Amrita
Author: undying_desire
Pairing: GTOP Seunghyun/Jiyong
Rating: PG-13
Genre: one-shot, tragedy
Summary: "I pulled the trigger on the gun I had aimed at my heart."
________________________________________________
The glow of my cellphone lighted the dilapidated room as I typed in his number. He would be asleep by now. His cellphone wouldn't ring; it would simply vibrate on the corner of his bed where he always left it. I could leave my message without him finding it until the morning.
I hardly know why I'm doing this. Maybe I couldn't bear to leave him thinking this was his fault. I couldn't bear to leave my last words on earth as a lie.
"This is Choi Seunghyun. You caught me at a bad time. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. If this is Jiyong, call my home phone..." a pause. A tired sigh. "Please?"
A beep.
I drew in a breath, I wanted to hang up and call again just to hear his voice saying my name, but I know that if I hang up I will call his land-line. The very last thing I can do right now is talk to him in person so I start in the easiest way possible, "I forgive you and I do believe what you said tonight. Don't be mad," I began, "but I'm leaving. I don't belong in this world--not anymore."
My voice didn't sound like mine. In fact, I was certain I was no longer me. Whoever I had become needed to disappear.
This is my goodbye to someone I may have been able to love.
"Thank you for giving me these few days. I'll never forget you, Seunghyun."
I shut my phone. Maybe I should have said more, but I didn't. My tone said more than my words. I was at peace with my decision. My words were true. I will never forget him because he changed my world. That's it. It is over for me. I belong in a different world.
I pulled the trigger on the gun I had aimed at my heart.
* * *
Three Days Earlier
A young boy, fifteen at the most, sat under a small overhang. He was trying to avoid the rain. An emancipated cat had joined him. Both were shooed away like pests when the shop owner opened the back door to toss out his garbage.
Seunghyun watched from the window of a café as barely three minutes later both the cat and boy returned and had begun exploring the dumpster for scraps.
The boy pulled out what appeared to be a half eaten chicken breast. He didn't seem to care that the rain was drenching him anymore. The food was more enticing than a shelter.
The tom cat sauntered up to the boy, seemingly dissatisfied with the other contents of the garbage. Much to Seunghyun's surprise, the kid tore off a small piece of meat and held it out to the animal who took it hungrily before scurrying away.
Seunghyun pushed the shortcake in front of him away as his appetite diminished. He had half a mind to take the piece to the boy.
As a small gang of local boys entered the alley, Seunghyun decided against the idea. He watched as a lanky member pulled the boy to his feet. Another member, this time heavily overweight shook with laughter as a slap was given to the boy's cheek. The boy spat back in the face of the taller hoodlum.
A third member twirled a knife between his fingers. A fourth simply rested forward on a wooden bat not paying attention to the others.
The boy was pushed to his knees. The lanky member undid his belt.
Seunghyun looked away from the scene. He now concentrated on the swirling steam rising from his coffee. He didn't look back out the window until he heard the shot.
The four members were hurrying out of the alley. The blonde boy was lying face first in a puddle.
No one else in the café even bothered to look. The world of the poor was invisible to them; it was invisible to most who weren't a part of that world.
Seunghyun opened his umbrella to the rain as he left the café.
This is what he had been waiting for.
He walked towards the alley.
The puddle around the boy was a mix of mud and blood. Anyone who bothered to look could see he was dead.
Seunghyun lifted the body from the water. He hardly gave a second thought to the Gucci suit that he was wearing.
Dead through and through. A bullet wound straight through the skull.
His limo pulled up to the curb. He placed the boy's body in the back gently and slipped in beside him. As the limo pulled off, he examined the boy's features. Dirty blonde hair, that looked as if it had recently been dyed, was in a tangled mess atop his head. His eyes were brown. Overall, he had petite features apart from his lips, which were still swollen from what Seunghyun assumed was a half finished blow job. He could have taken a body that wasn't so thin but this would have to do.
With a small pocket knife, Seunghyun carefully carved into the arm of the dead boy. Blood still seeped from the cut but no longer carried any life. Taking a lavishly embroidered towel from a compartment in the limo, Seunghyun wiped away the blood. "Adonis #8" revealed itself in the flesh.
* * *
Day 1
The dirty blonde opened his eyes slowly. White was the first color to fill his vision. A blinding light seemed to reach out towards him before darting up, up, and away. Then, he saw a mass of black, which slowly came into focus as the back of someone's head.
His own head was pounding from the lights and the sound of the steady rhythm of an EKG. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was almost maddening.
The black haired man quickly turned around. A clipboard in his hand and a white lab coat suggested he was a doctor of some sort. Instead of looking at the man on the hospital bed, he gazed at the machine for what seemed like an eternity. His expression suggested that he didn't believe what he was seeing.
"My God, there's a heartbeat," he suddenly exclaimed, as if it were a miracle. Then, into a small recorder he stated, "Zero nine hundred hours: Life."
His name tag read 'Choi Seunghyun.'
With a sore throat and a hoarse voice, the blonde asked in the calmest fashion, "Where am I?"
It was only then that Seunghyun turned to look at him. The man's face was partially covered by a medical mask, but his eyes were fully exposed. The boy could have sworn those deep brown orbs gazed right into his soul.
Seunghyun seemed to pause at the question for a moment, an action that the boy immediately recognized as a lie being thought up. "You're in my medical ward. It was a close call, but you seem to have pulled through," was the clever, almost believable, reply.
The doctor turned back to a table filled with papers and folders of various colors. He scribbled furiously on a few pages before looking back towards the blonde.
"Your name, what is it?"
The blonde blinked, once, then twice. "Jiyong," he replied as he gazed at a painting of a Chinese dragon behind Seunghyun. A name was something he had never had. He'd been given the title of 'whore,' 'trash,' 'dog,' but never an actual name. So, here, he named himself.
Jiyong was born.
Still not looking at Jiyong, Seungyun replied, "Well, Jiyong, I'd like to request for you to stay here for another few days. Typical followup of your condition after such an accident."
Jiyong nodded in understanding before tilting his head quizzically. "Accident?"
"You don't remember? Perhaps it's better that you don't," Seunghyun said before disappearing into another room.
Despite the light throbbing in his head, Jiyong tried to urge his mind towards the last thing he could remember--a few local gang members surrounding him. There was a cock in his mouth before he bit down, hard. He could taste blood. Then, he heard the cocking of a gun. Then--
Jiyong felt a rush of pain move from his head down his spine. He grasped the white sheets until his knuckles became nearly the same ghostly color. Blackness crept over his vision in the form of shadow-like hands. Then, the pain subsided and the white walls of the hospital room came back into vision. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. He pulled the plug on the heart monitor.
Not remembering was better.
"You should leave that on. I'd hate for your heart to stop without me knowing."
And Jiyong was almost certain his heart had stopped when he looked up.
Seunghyun had removed the white coat and the mask from his face. He now stood before Jiyong in a light blue suit that fit snugly against his frame. His face was frighteningly perfect. Sharp jawline, supple lips, high cheekbones, and those eyes. Suddenly, Jiyong felt very exposed under those eyes. It was as if a god was gracing a mere mortal with his presence.
"You must be hungry," said the god.
Jiyong's stomach growled in response before he could formulate any words.
Palm up, Seunghyun raised his arm towards Jiyong. "Come with me," he said.
Jiyong did the only thing that seemed possible to do in that moment. He slid from the bed and reached out.
Fingertips touched timidly. How frighteningly cold his hands were in comparison to Seunghyun's.
Jiyong was led from the white room up a set of stairs. A metal door opened without a squeak and revealed a fully furnished bedroom. The smaller boy grasped his hand tighter. Seunghyun could only wonder how many times the blonde had been led to someone's home to perform unspeakable deeds.
"I won't do anything to you," Seunghyun assured.
"Not that, I'm used to that," Jiyong paused. "I'm not used to someone having an infirmary hidden in their room."
Seunghyun said nothing in response to the statement. Instead, he let the small hand fall away from his and reached into his overly large closet.
"You'll have to make do with these clothes. They'll be large on your frame, but it's better than staying in the gown for dinner," Seunghyun remarked.
Jiyong gazed down at his garments, seemingly realizing for the first time that he was wearing nothing but a thin sheet of clothes that hardly covered his backside. The blush that crept up on his cheeks would have been cute to Seunghyun had Jiyong been anyone else.
"You may dress in the bathroom," Seunghyun handed over the clothes and motioned to a small door.
Jiyong took two steps towards the room before turning around. In a fully joking manner he said, "You're going to flip on that television as soon as I get in there to watch a nice show of me stripping, aren't you?"
This time Seunghyun blushed.
"Got you figured out, Choi Seunghyun."
And with that the boy disappeared into the camera-less bathroom leaving a more than confused Seunghyun behind. Jiyong was cute. The street boys Seunghyun had always heard about were less than human. They were quite like dogs, said the higher class members. Seunghyun had always believed those words. After months of watching various street boys, he had nothing to conflict with that idea. But here, now that he had a living boy in his own house, it was hard to see the dog. One, this dog had a name; it was Jiyong. Two, he had a personality that was deeper than just a drive for food. And most surprisingly, three, he had been able to read the name tag.
If there was one thing street boys couldn't do, it was read. Society would never allow them the chance to excel and the best way to oppress anyone, is to take away literacy. Even Seunghyun could see the corruption in that, but it was how things had always been. Society worked this way. The poor remained poor and the rich remained rich. The poor had no power to complain and the rich wouldn't listen even if they did. The rich were fine with life this way. The rich were fine with everything...well, almost. The rich still died just the same as the poor, albeit a bit later in life. That's where Seunghyun came in. The street boys may have a use if their death could help to bring eternal life to the rich.
The bathroom door opened slowly, drawing Seunghyun's attention to it. He was certain his eyes widened to their fullest possible diameter when he took in the sight of the boy. White must have been made for this creature. The white dress shirt hung off one shoulder exposing creamy skin. The black pants were still in Jiyong's arms which left only the shirt to cover his legs to mid-thigh.
The explanation that was offered with a sly smile hardly made Seunghyun feel any better about the situation. "I just couldn't keep my pants on."
Lesson number four about this street dog named Jiyong: he was filled with sexual innuendos.
Seunghyun cleared his throat and removed his eyes from the porcelain-like skin. "It's of no matter."
Turning on his heel, Seunghyun exited the bedroom and listened carefully to the pitter-patter of feet trailing behind him. If not for the almost inaudible sound, Jiyong could have very well been a ghost.
The pair maneuvered through various passages and down two flights of stairs. The building could have been mistaken for a hotel if not for the large amount of family pictures and open doors, which revealed empty rooms. Jiyong drew nearer to Seunghyun as they passed a room filled with jars containing organs of various organisms.
"Is this your home?" Jiyong quietly asked as they rounded a corner.
"I told you, it's a medical ward."
Jiyong hardly believed those words as they entered the dining hall. The enormous dining room table was filled with steaming dishes and icy bottles of wine. The younger's mouth was already watering.
"Normally, I eat alone, but I would enjoy some company tonight," Seunghyun stated.
"I'd sleep with a corpse if it meant I get to eat this," Jiyong responded quickly.
"Company reserved for the dining room only," Seunghyun clarified.
Jiyong shrugged. "May I?"
"Eat all you'd like."
That was all it took for Jiyong to practically jump at the food like a starving animal. Seunghyun watched as Jiyong ate without using any utensils and was quickly reminded that this boy was nothing more than a street rat to society.
Nearly five minutes had passed before Jiyong looked up from his plate to meet Seunghyun's eyes. "You look hungry," Jiyong said with a less than innocent licking of his chops.
"Jiyong, elites in such a high position as myself don't participate in the activities you have in mind."
Jiyong raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"It's...unclean."
The boy popped a grape into his mouth. "That's hardly the first thing on your mind when you lose yourself to desire."
"Which is why I don't lose myself."
Jiyong tilted his head to the side again with the most curious look on his face. He was close to saying something. Seunghyun anticipated a question, but it never came. Instead, Jiyong returned to the meal, this time picking up the fork to jab at a piece of ham.
After Jiyong completed his meal, Seunghyun led him up a flight of stairs and into a small bedroom that had been kept up rather nicely. Jiyong was informed that this would be his quarters 'until the followup was complete.' Seunghyun placed a cellphone into the boy's hands instructing him to dial 1 if he need anything, but that Seunghyun would not be taking calls after 11PM.
Then, Jiyong was left to his dreams, which quickly morphed into nightmares unlike any he had ever had before.
* * *
Day 2: Morning
Jiyong woke with a start. The dim light of the sun, trying to fight its way through the clouds, informed Jiyong that it was morning. He rubbed a hand sleepily over his face before collapsing back to the bed. Strangely, even nights on the streets had given him a more refreshing feeling in the morning. Yet, he had slept through the entire night here on his bed and still felt as if he hadn't shut his eyes.
He had been dreaming.
A misty landscape with black figures in the distance. They were reaching out towards him. A murmur turned into a chant. Then he began to run but quickly found himself face first in a puddle of what could be described as nothing less than blood. A puddle of blood that began to swallow him.
He shook his head willing away the images but they remained in his head each time he so much as blinked. Keeping his eyes open hardly proved to be a solution. Soon, the shadows in his room seemed to morphing into those from his dream. He was almost certain they were moving.
He reached for the bedside lamp to rid the room of shadow, with a flicker the light came on and with another flicker the bulb sizzled to the end of its life. The room only seemed to become darker.
He slid from the bed, quickly reached for the cellphone, and with a pitter-patter of bare feet, he took another flight of stairs up to Seunghyun's room.
As he stood in front of the doctor's door, he dialed 1.
He heard a faint ring, meaning Seunghyun must be awake.
Ring. Ring.
"Jiyong. Are you alright?" came the deep voice.
Jiyong took in a shaky breath as he nervously eyed the shadows cast by a moving drape. "May I come to your room?"
"Of course."
Jiyong didn't hesitate a moment before reaching for the knob and making his entrance.
Seunghyun sat on his king sized bed in only a robe. A royal red color which oddly reminded Jiyong of the blood from his dream. It took five steps for Jiyong to launch himself away from the cold air of the room and into the warm body of Seunghyun.
He wouldn't have been surprised at all to have been shoved away, but a surprise he got as Seunghyun began to stroke his hair. Jiyong focused on the movement of Seunghyun's chest as he breathed. Thankfully it began to fight away the images in his mind. He watched the muscles in the man's left breast as he moved his arm slowly up and down.
The elite were really not much different from those on the streets. Their smell may be a little fruitier and their bodies a little cleaner, but behind all the fancy clothes and gaudy accessories, there was just a person. A human. Jiyong briefly wondered when the definition of human was split by the amount of wealth you possessed. And he briefly wondered why an elite was here, holding him.
Jiyong shifted his weight onto his knees so that he settled between Seunghyun's legs. He was now fully facing the other man. Seunghyun was watching him closely. Jiyong pushed the shoulders of the robe further apart and sat amazed at the lack of any scars. Perhaps the elite no longer had reminders of their injuries. Jiyong gave a fleeting look at the scars on his wrists, which he had obtained from being tied to a bed one too many times.
Jiyong ran his hand over the man's warm chest. He watched goosebumps rise on the skin. Why were his own hands so cold?
He gazed up at Seunghyun, who was still studying his movements. There was no desire in the man's eyes and Jiyong felt his enchantment fade. Of course, a street boy would hardly be of any interest to an elite. But they were both human, weren't they?
"Do you not feel?" Jiyong questioned as he gazed into deep chocolate orbs.
Seunghyun offered no response.
"Do you not feel my cold hands?"
Jiyong slid his fingers down slowly before stopping at where the robe was tied.
"Do you know something, something which you refuse to tell me?"
Seunghyun slid away from him and stood from the bed.
"There is nothing you should know," Seunghyun all but growled as he went to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him causing a portrait to fall from the wall.
Jiyong stared at the discolored space left on the wallpaper. The sun had found its way through the clouds and now illuminated the room. The shadows retreated to the furthest corners leaving Jiyong feeling safe and warm on the bed. Despite the odd exchange of words, Seunghyun had a warmth about him. Jiyong watched the door until the handle moved and quickly averted his gaze.
"I have work to attend to. Will you be alright here alone?" Seunghyun questioned causing Jiyong to look up as the man fitted a tie around his neck.
Jiyong stood from the bed and walked over to the other. He reached up absentmindedly and straightened the collar of Seunghyun's shirt. "I've lived my whole life alone...another few hours won't kill me," Jiyong said in resolve as he looked up into the other's eyes still searching for something more.
There was no desire, but something was there. The look in Seunghyun's eyes seemed to be filled with something Jiyong was suddenly frightened to see. He looked away.
"I'll be home for dinner." Seunghyun feathered a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room and leaving an awestruck Jiyong behind.
The sun disappeared again and a drizzle of rain began to hit the window.
Jiyong touched his forehead lightly before smiling. Forbidden books spoke of a kiss from a prince being given to a poor maiden. They seemed an impossibility. Someone of wealth looking into the world of the poor was unheard of. Yet, here he was. Standing in what could only be called a prince's castle.
The books, however, were still fairytales and Jiyong had hardly met a happily ever after. A dark presence still lurked in the spaces where light could not reach. For the moment, Jiyong had forgotten the shadows, but that hardly made them disappear. Their dark eyes watched as he sprawled out on the bed and finally closed his eyes to sleep.
* * *
Day 2: Evening
Seunghyun opened the door to his room to see the young boy curled up in his blankets. Quietly, Seunghyun placed the folder he had received from work onto the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed looking at the boy's calloused feet. Every aspect of Jiyong was a reminder that he wasn't from the same world as Seunghyun. But every aspect only made him that much more interesting.
Seunghyun's job for years had been the study of the body and how nanotechnology could be utilized for the elite. The elite now had the ability to never appear to age. He himself was 35 but didn't look a day over 20. The elite had no freckles and no scars. They had no split ends on their hair and certainly no bald spots. The elite had no mental diseases, in fact, no diseases at all. None but age.
The advances in modern technology were partially thanks to the street inhabitants. They were the perfect guinea pigs. Not human enough for anyone to care what strange experiments were done to these boys in the name of science.
This was Seunghyun's job.
Jiyong stirred as if he could feel Seunghyun's eyes upon him. The boy's eyes opened slowly and a smile graced Seunghyun as Jiyong came into wakefulness.
"Welcome home."
Seunghyun only stared for a moment longer as Jiyong made no attempt to move.
"Dinner is ready. You may come down if you like."
Jiyong followed right beside him. Hardly a ghost.
Jiyong ate more slowly this time. Glancing at Seunghyun's empty plate every now and then. Not a word was exchanged between them but strangely Jiyong kept smiling as he looked down at his food.
Then, unexpectedly, Jiyong stood from his chair and rounded the table. He pulled out the chair next to Seunghyun and sat down, his whole body facing him. Seunghyun watched with curiosity as Jiyong then took his fork and scooped up a bit of mashed potatoes. He held the fork out close to Seunghyun. Seunghyun only looked at Jiyong's eyes. The boy smiled. Withdrew the fork and blew lightly over the steaming potatoes before once again holding the food towards Seunghyun.
Seunghyun opened his mouth and let the starchy vegetable slide onto his tongue.
"There. You should eat more," Jiyong gave a nod and slid corn onto the fork.
"I do. Breakfast."
"Your shortcake? That's less food than I could find in the trash."
Seunghyun looked at Jiyong quizzically.
"I saw you in the café often. You always had a that strawberry cake."
"I'm testing a new nanotech. To see how long I can be sustained without food."
The words obviously went over the boy's head but he nodded. Then slipped the corn between Seunghyun's lips.
"Is that why you're never hungry for anything?"
"I have passing hungers."
"You should eat more," Jiyong repeated as he balanced a bit of jello on the fork. "Flavors make things more interesting."
But Seunghyun didn't understand. Elites thrived to make everything the same in the world. The same hair color, the same eye color, the same height, the same foods for every meal.
"Do they?"
"Of course. For instance, this is my first time trying an elite."
And the fork was gone from his mouth and Jiyong was in its place. The orange jello melting in the cavern that Seunghyun could no longer tell if it belonged to him alone.
Then it was over. Seunghyun was standing this time in more shock than the mock anger he tried to exhibit.
"I think it's time for bed."
Jiyong simply nodded and left the dining room first.
When he reached his room, he eyed two white folded pieces of fabric on his bed. He opened the first which revealed a shirt that was just his size. The other fabric was, of course, loose fitting pants. He smiled slightly before unbuttoning the dress shirt he had been wearing since the morning before. In the mirror he caught a glimpse of a strange scar on his arm.
He nearly jumped as the lamp switched on and sent a yellow glow over the scar which now appeared more like a brand. "Adonis #8," he read with a whisper as his fingertips traced the mark.
The shadows were moving in the mirror now. The light in this room gave them life.
Jiyong slipped on his shirt and retreated to the bed willing more sleep to claim him.
* * *
Day 3: Before Daylight
Sleep didn't come. It was 2:00AM and he still sat in the bed staring up at the ceiling, which now seemed to move. It was as if the elaborate wood carvings would jump to life and drag him into the darkest corners of the room. The shadows too, they too were drawing nearer. Inch by inch they seemed to grow. Minute by minute they grew darker until they were black voids of pain. Whispers filled his head. Nothing he could make out. Just sounds. Chants. Pleas. Then they grew louder, and louder, and louder until the shadows were screaming. He closed his eyes but behind his lids the shadows only seemed more threatening. He could practically see bony fingers beckoning him.
Then silence. One hand came into his vision and his eyes flew open.
No one was there.
Then a breath. Cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He couldn't turn around. He was paralyzed. Inhale. Smelling his flesh. Exhale. A cold flow of air. Inhale. It liked the smell. Exhale. He himself was no longer breathing. Inhale.
A whisper against his ear. "I," exhale. Inhale. "Am," exhale. Inhale. "Death."
Jiyong screamed. He screamed as if he were being torn apart from the inside. He screamed as if someone could hear him.
Then it was over.
No one was there.
But someone was there in the next moment. Someone heard his cries.
"Jiyong." Seunghyun said sternly as he opened the door and rushed to the side of the bed.
Jiyong's whole body was shaking from fear. He didn't move to face Seunghyun but all the same he found himself buried in the other's chest as the man pulled him into his embrace. Then Jiyong broke down. He grasped onto the royal red fabric as tightly as he could and he sobbed. There was no need to act as if he was fine. He wasn't. And for the first time he had someone to hold onto.
"Tell me what happened."
Seunghyun coaxed again and again, but Jiyong refused to answer. He didn't want to think of what he had heard. He wanted to forget it all.
What better way to forget your current circumstances than to lose yourself to desire?
In an act of sheer desperation, Jiyong began to kiss Seunghyun's chest, his neck, his jawline.
"Jiyong, stop," Seunghyun ordered.
Jiyong stopped. He looked into those eyes. He held both of his hands against this man's face. "Please, I don't want to think. Please. I need this."
The silence drew longer. The shadows drew nearer. Tears leaked from the corners of Jiyong's eyes. And then Seunghyun was turning his head into Jiyong's palm and gently kissing his skin.
Lips touched lips. Hands met hands. Skin against skin. An elite, a street boy, and forgotten shadows were all that existed in the night.
* * *
Day 3: Morning
Seunghyun slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy despite the fact he was late. He was late for his work and quite possibly the most important meeting of modern science technology. This was the breakthrough humanity had been searching for and he was late.
He slipped on a shirt and pants in record time.
But a few seconds couldn't help but be wasted as Seughyun took a glance at Jiyong's sleeping form. The boy's hair was in a disarray but he looked beautiful. He was, quite simply, a miracle. And he would earn Seunghyun millions.
Seunghyun slipped out the door leaving his Adonis to his dreams.
* * *
Day 3: Afternoon
Jiyong woke to find himself the only occupant of the overly large bed. The sun wasn't shining in through the window, but it was light outside, suggesting that Jiyong had slept in quite a long time. Seunghyun would be at his job, whatever that was, and Jiyong would sit in the lightest part of the room--furthest from the shadows.
But bit of yellow caught his eye as he turned over in the bed. He sat up, gazing to the floor where a manila folder had fallen to sometime in the night. He reached into the shadows and lifted the folder, which sported the word "Adonis" on its front. He could almost feel the skin, where he had discovered his own mark, burn.
He opened the folder only to find lines and lines of As Ts Cs and Gs. Papers were filled with numbers and mathematical formulas which were all Greek to him. Then a small post it spiked his curiosity. "Don't forget Adonis #8 files on infirmary desk," he read Seunghyun's barely legible handwriting.
Then, he had to know more.
"Infirmary," he repeated and slipped from the bed carrying the folder with him.
He pressed along the wall until he heard a click and the stairs which he had climbed only a few days before appeared to stretch down into the darkness. He glanced at the mark on his arm before taking a deep breath and entering the confined stairwell.
Down and down he went before he finally caught a glimpse of a glowing orange light below. Once he opened the final door, he was in the room where his name was born. The Chinese dragon watched as Jiyong walked straight for the desk lined with papers in neat little stacks.
Adonis #1. Adonis #2. All the way to Adonis #8. Those were the front covers of each stack.
Jiyong lifted the title page away from the first Adonis. His hand immediately went to cover his mouth in an attempt to stop a scream. There were two photos of a boy just about his age. Without a doubt the boy was dead. His eyes were rolled back into his head so only whites could be seen. Jiyong fought back vomit once the initial shock had passed.
Then he read slowly. "Amrita administered, no effect on patient." Scrawls in blue ink scratched out various lines and wrote quick remarks. "Dead. More G strain? Key to immortality not yet found."
Jiyong stopped reading. He slid the front page from each stack revealing more photos. Then stopped as his hand hovered over Adonis #8. His heart was racing and his fingers were practically sweating by the time they actually touched the paper. Then he pulled it away in one quick motion as if pulling away a band aid.
There they were. Four pictures of himself. Lifeless. Blood still covering his head where a bullet wound proudly marked itself on his forehead. "Adonis #8, successful reanimation of corpse" was proudly written as a header.
Jiyong was on the floor expelling the contents of his empty stomach onto the floor.
* * *
Day 3: Evening
Seunghyun returned home later than usual. He made a quick walk to the dining room as he could already smell the freshly prepared food.
Jiyong was sitting at the table in his customary spot across from Seunghyun. His food remained untouched. He was staring at his lap.
Seunghyun took his seat and eyed Jiyong suspiciously. When the younger looked up, Seunghyun felt as if hell had opened up and swallowed him whole. Nothing was in those eyes but hatred.
"I want you to tell me when I can leave here," Jiyong said with finality.
"I left a very important part of my work here today and I am not in the mood for this discussion."
Jiyong scoffed and lifted up the folder which was now filled with things he had discovered in the infirmary. "This it?"
"No."
And Seunghyun could see something in Jiyong snap.
"You lying piece of filth!" Jiyong screamed as he tossed the manila on the table in front of Seunghyun.
Photos of each Adonis spilled out over the mahogany.
"You sick bastard! You fiend!"
"I told you not to enter that room," Seunghyun said quietly once Jiyong finished his strain of slurs.
"Ha. What, you didn't want me to find out I'm a fucking corpse? You wanted too keep fucking me, is that it? You want to fuck a corpse?" Seunghyun flinched. "The nerve of you to let me believe you had enough of a heart to take me from the streets. To think, I was starting to believe you cared."
"I do."
"Fuck you Choi Seunghyun. You aren't my savior. In fact, my life has been hell since you decided to play god. I can practically see the hands of Death around my throat when I look into the mirror. And this," he pulled his sleeve up to reveal the scar, "you branded me. No, I was better off dead on the streets. At least then I belonged to myself."
Seunghyun stood to reach towards Jiyong, to calm the boy down, but Jiyong was up from the table and against the wall faster than Seunghyun could blink.
"You will never lay a finger on me again. The hands of death are sweeter than your false touches."
"Please, let me explain," Seunghyun's voice sounded desperate even to himself.
"No. Nothing you can say will make this better. I understand it now. My nightmares and illusions. I thought I was losing my mind, but I'm not. You brought the heartbeat back into this body but something is no longer here. I'm a shell, you see? My soul is already in another world. Death has me. I'm not even yours. I'm dead."
"You're breathing, Jiyong. You are alive."
"There's more to being alive than just breathing. That's something you wouldn't understand," Jiyong turned away from Seunghyun who was still holding his hand towards him.
"I think I'm starting to."
Jiyong shook his head. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not," Seunghyun all but whispered as he held back an unexpected sob.
"I can't believe you, not anymore," Jiyong said as he turned back to look at Seunghyun with a heartbreaking smile. Tears ran down his cheeks.
Seunghyun's hand dropped to the table. He hung his head low looking at his empty plate. Its emptiness had never bothered him until this moment.
"I'm going to my room, Seunghyun."
But Seunghyun didn't look up. He couldn't bear to see the death of anything they might have had. When the footsteps faded into the distance, Seunghyun slammed his fist down on the table with terrifying force. The plates rattled and a glass toppled, spilling red wine over the white papers. Five years of research were being dyed red, ruined, but Seunghyun only stared at the ink as it melted from the page.
He couldn't understand Jiyong's ramblings of souls and death, but Seunghyun knew he had never been alive as much as he had been around the boy. Something in his heart was telling him to go to Jiyong. And it was almost overwhelming. Seunghyun's heart had never spoken to him. Only his mind seemed to work, but here his heart was telling him to give up his career based on the three days he had known this street boy. Only his heart wasn't just saying street boy. It was screaming, Jiyong, Jiyong, Jiyong.
The clock struck him from his thoughts as it chimed the hours away. Ten minutes of hearing the repetition of Jiyong's name in sync with this heartbeat had passed by like seconds.
Then it was decided. Seunghyun was rushing up the stairs to Jiyong's room and throwing open the door before his mind could even think of something to say.
But an empty room was all that greeted him and he knew, Jiyong had left.
* * *
Day 3: Night
And so he had left.
For five minutes he had stayed in his room watching the shadows come closer before he had to escape. He fully believed it now. The only real escape from his slowly deteriorating sanity was death.
He slumped against the cold floor of the warehouse he once called his shelter. It was not nearly as comforting as he remembered it to be. Seunghyun was comfort. Jiyong smiled to himself as he fiddled with a gun he had just stolen from a shop. It was all he had with him now, a gun and a cellphone. He wasn't quite sure why he had brought the cellphone. After all, what more could he say to Seunghyun?
But he had a million answers to that. Somewhere in the midst of that argument at the dinner table, Jiyong had realized Seunghyun had no intention of lying to him. When he first threw the folder on the table, Seunghyun was horrified. It was as if he already knew Jiyong would leave when he discovered the truth. And Jiyong could see that Seunghyun's heart was trembling under all the harsh words.
Seunghyun cared about him. That was the truth. A truth Jiyong wished he could relish in.
However, it was better to leave. Drawing Seunghyun closer to him would only hurt the man more. Jiyong just couldn't live in this world anymore. Soon or later he was going to die again, he wasn't quite sure he had ever really came back to life. The shadows seemed to pulse in the room as if they were reading his thoughts.
No, he couldn't have been with Seunghyun any longer. It was better for both of them this way.
He lifted the gun and cocked the hammer. He held the barrel to his head but suddenly couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He glanced at the cellphone and it made all the sense in the world why he had brought it.
Jiyong had peace in the fact that Seunghyun had feelings for him, but he was about to leave Seunghyun and all the man would believe was that he hated him. Jiyong at least owed Seunghyun a bit of truth.
So he picked up the cellphone to leave a short message for Seunghyun. A final goodbye and perhaps an unspoken amount of love recorded itself on the voice mail. Then he lifted the gun with a steady hand and pulled the trigger.
The echo of the shot rang through the building sending a stray cat scurrying out from behind an old mattress.
Church bells struck midnight.
* * *
Present
Seunghyun woke up to two messages on his phone.
The first caused him tears. The second brought him hope.
He was at the address the second message had left for him within five minutes. An older street dog, who helped Seunghyun chose the boys that were likely to die soon, spat at the ground as Seunghyun stepped out of his car.
"Had Adonis on his arm. Figured he's yours. Called ya. How much I get for him?"
"He's not yours to sell," Seunghyun growled as he whipped out a pistol.
The man shrugged, hardly even flinching as the gun rested against his temple.
"You elites, still stealing from the poor," the man spat again before moving from the gun. "He's on the floor up there."
So Seunghyun climbed the stairs and entered Jiyong's world. Only he was greeted with an empty room. The shell of a bullet and the shell of a body were all that remained in the space.
Seunghyun knew what had to be done. He once again lifted the bloody body, ruining his Gucci suit. Once again, he carried the soulless body to his medical chamber. Once again, he injected the amrita into the boy's blood stream.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"It was a close call, but you seem to have pulled through," Seunghyun said as the blonde opened his eyes and looked at him without recognition.
The shadows drew nearer.
________________________________________________
A/N: This idea just possessed me while I was working on a new chaptered fanfic. It didn't quite fit in with the plot of that story so I turned it into a one-shot. I hope it wasn't too hard to follow. Throwing in an alternate universe plot was probably a bit much for a one-shot.
For those of you that don't know, Adonis was chosen because of the myth of his death and rebirth. Adonis was killed by a god that was jealous of his beauty. Aphrodite, who was a lover of Adonis, bargains with the goddess of the underworld for the return of Adonis. Seeing how great Aphrodite's love is, Adonis is allowed to come back to life for six months a year.
Amrita means "immortality" in Sanskrit. In many Hindu and Buddhist scripts, it is a drink that grants immortality.