a/n: Written for Chenpionships 2016

Stand Strong (In My Arms)

Jongdae glanced up at the clouds ahead. There was a rumble off in the distance, and if he peered closely, then he could make out the haze of rain.

Jongdae heaved his backpack onto his shoulders and eyed the storm. He couldn’t really tell how long it would last, but what he’d gathered from being in this part of the country was that the rain would go on for at most a few hours. He debated whether or not he should try and cover more ground before the rain hit—but it was unlikely that he would be able to find a shelter as good as this one in the next twenty miles.

Jongdae squatted down and crawled back into the hole. He’d found the collapsed entrance to someone’s basement—and an unprecedented opportunity to rest safely for the night and maybe even pick up some supplies, depending on what was in it. He pulled out his lantern and lit a match, lifting the light into the air. He saw some dusty chairs and a few cupboards. He set the lantern down and got to work exploring what resources he might have. Half an hour later, he heard the sound of rain falling outside, and he continued his search as the light from the lantern danced around the walls of the basement.

The next morning, Jongdae set off once more. He’d found more matches, some canned food and had carefully folded and packed one of the blankets in the cellar. It could keep him warm for the nights to come. His worn-down shoes squished softly in the mud as he struggled uphill. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to find a shelter as nice as the one he was just leaving, but he had to keep looking for other people. There was no way he was the only person left on Earth—he absolutely refused to believe it.

Six months ago, the apocalypse had happened. Natural disaster after natural disaster had rolled across the planet. Enormous tsunamis struck coasts and caused massive floods far inland. Tornadoes sprang up, freak hailstorms occurred, and wildfires burned throughout every continent. There was no safe place to go; Jongdae had retreated below ground on his own with his own supplies and had stayed down as long as he could. He had no idea what had happened, or how long it had been—but when he came up, the world was a mess, but there didn’t seem to be any more disasters occurring. The rain that happened now was gentler, and he hadn’t been caught in a tornado or a wildfire yet.

Jongdae knew that he couldn’t have been the only person in the whole world to successfully retreat below ground and wait out the disasters. At the very least, some military secret base still existed beneath the surface; but Jongdae had hope that another civilian like himself had been able to survive. They were waiting to be found, just like he was.

Jongdae continued trudging through the mud, going in the opposite direction of the storm clouds sitting on the horizon. If he looked hard enough, again, he could see the faint haze of rain. Up ahead, a forest was growing up a hill. Jongdae stared up at the trees and noticed that a large portion were blackened, fallen over, or stunted. Clearly, something had passed through the area when he’d been in hiding; but he was safe now. Jongdae started going uphill, through the forest. Some animals had survived, but such encounters were few and far between, and Jongdae hardly expected to encounter something dangerous in the forest.

The apocalypse had left no one and nothing untouched. Jongdae could count the number of birds and animals that he’d seen in his past three weeks of travelling on one hand. On the other hand, the earth seemed to be slowly repairing itself. Green shoots pushed through the ground occasionally, and Jongdae could seem buds on some of the trees in the forest.

Jongdae continued trekking up the hill until the sun was near the horizon. He wasn’t really afraid that anything would attack him; there wasn’t anything left to attack him. Nevertheless, he kept his knife in his hand as he fell asleep, his pack under his head and a blanket covering his body.

The next morning, Jongdae awoke to the smell of smoke. His first thought was that a wildfire had broken out in the forest and he needed to escape, but when he sat up, his eyes swinging about wildly, he realized that the morning was actually quite cool and that there was no sound of a roaring wildfire. He got to his feet and scanned the skies. He couldn’t see any source of flame jumping between the trees, and he slowly let himself relax. He folded up his blanket and put it in his pack again. So maybe there wasn’t a raging wildfire, but maybe a small patch of underbrush was smoldering—hadn’t he read something about how thick layers of debris on the forest floor could catch fire on their own? Something like that. Maybe he could investigate and either try and put it out or flee the forest depending on how bad it was.

Jongdae opened his pack and pulled out a bag of dried fruit. He’d made it himself, and it definitely wasn’t as sweet as the ones he’d used to buy from the store before the apocalypse, but it was food. He swung his pack onto his shoulders and picked up his knife as he continued to gnaw on a mouth full of leathery berries. He would try and find the fire; if he hadn’t found it by the time the sun had risen to noon, then he would carry on with his journey. 

Jongdae rubbed his eyes and stared at the scene in front of him. He’d tried finding the direction the smoke was coming from, and he was pretty sure this was the source of the fire—but it seemed so unbelievable.

Jongdae stood at the edge of a lush glade. Green grass grew thickly, and small purple wildflowers grew happily alongside shrubs and a small fruit tree. A small, clear stream ran through the glade, and next to the fruit tree was a little cottage with smoke coming out of its chimney.

Jongdae rubbed his eyes again and stared. After the horror of seeing dead animal bodies on the side of crumbling roads, collapsed houses, barely-recognizable human bodies rotting away in cars and in caves and in basements, here was a cute cottage in the middle of a small paradise in the midst of all the devastation.

Jongdae felt a small spark of anger flare up inside of him at the injustice of this peaceful haven in comparison to the horrors he’d encountered, but it quickly cooled and he sank to his knees as tears of relief and appreciation welled up in his eyes.

“Oh!”

Jongdae froze, tears still trickling down his face. He could’ve sworn he’d just heard a human voice.

There was the sound of soft footsteps behind him, and Jongdae stared up into the face of the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

“Are you real?” he croaked out, his voice shaky from his tears.

The man’s face softened. “Yes,” he said simply, and that was all it took for Jongdae to burst into tears again.

Somehow, the man managed to usher him to his feet and up to the steps of the cottage as Jongdae cried his heart out. They sat down together on the steps, and the man wrapped Jongdae in a hug as Jongdae sobbed into his shoulder.

Jongdae didn’t know how long they sat there, this strange, beautiful survivor patiently holding him.

Jongdae didn’t know how long he’d been crying, but at some point, he was so tired from his pain and joy, and he passed out on the stranger’s shoulder.

When Jongdae came too, he was lying on a pile of blankets. A pillow supported his head, and a quilt covered in bright yellow patchwork sunflowers covered his body. He sat up and smacked his lips as his arms and legs cramped in protest.

“You must be thirsty.” A gentle voice spoke from his right, and Jongdae whipped his head around to stare.

The handsome man who had let him sob onto his shoulder was standing by a table. He picked up a mug and handed it to Jongdae.

Jongdae muttered his thanks and instinctively took a sip. The water was fresh and clear over his tongue; nothing like the gritty, warm water he had been drinking, terrified for when his scavenged water filter would stop working and he would be poisoned.

“I’m Luhan.” The man gazed patiently down at him. “What’s your name?”

Jongdae wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, and suddenly became incredibly self-conscious about the grime on his face and the crust in his eyes. His hair went down to his shoulders and was a tangled mess of knots and dirt, and he was sitting on the floor while this ethereally beautiful person looked down at him.

Luhan raised an eyebrow and Jongdae snapped out of it. “I’m Jongdae.” He put down the mug and extended his hand to Luhan. “Thank you.”

Luhan squeezed Jongdae’s hand and then sat down on the floor beside the little nest he’d made up for Jongdae. “You must have been alone for so long.”

Jongdae felt the tears threatening to well up again, but he forced them down. “Yeah.”

There was a soft pause, and then Luhan spoke up again. “You may stay here, if you like.” Luhan gave Jongdae a hesitant look.

Jongdae laughed out of surprise. “Me? Stay here?”

Luhan leaned back. “Why not?”

“Why do you even trust me?” Jongdae shook his head. “A strange, grimy man stumbles into your little safe haven, and the first thing you do is offer to let him stay.”

“If I recall, the first thing you did when you saw me was cry for three straight hours and then pass out on my porch,” Luhan said archly.

The smirk was promptly wiped off of Jongdae’s face.

Luhan’s eyes glowed with triumph. “You’ll pardon me if I didn’t find you very alarming,” he said coolly. “Besides, you must be lonely. No one else has found me so far, and I don’t wander the woods too freely. It’s safe here. Stay, and rest awhile. You can decide what to do next in your own time.”

Luhan’s words had been humbling, but Jongdae could also see that Luhan didn’t mean any real harm by them. Besides, Luhan was right. It was safe here. No need to be afraid of any surviving animals attacking him in the dead of the night. There was shelter—no need to fear the elements. From what he’d seen, there seemed to be a clean source of water and Luhan had probably been able to start a garden. And most of all, Luhan was another human being. Jongdae had been afraid he’d go mad, staying alone in the darkness of the caves, and alone when he returned to the surface. Luhan might help him restore his faith in his mind once more.

“Okay,” Jongdae said at last. “I’ll stay.”

Luhan gave him a pleased smile. “I’m glad.” He reached out and gently squeezed Jongdae’s hand again. “You’ll need more water. And salt. You really did cry for three hours straight.”

Jongdae huffed a little, but slowly got to his feet. He was again reminded of his own griminess by the clean orderliness of the room around him. “Could I…wash somewhere?”

Luhan turned around to look at him, and Jongdae quickly backtracked. “Unless you’re rationing your water. Then I won’t bother,” he muttered.

Luhan shook his head. “The stream that runs through the back of the glade is clean. You’re welcome to wash there. Just let me get you a new change of clothes.” Luhan looked at him with a critical eye. “My clothes actually might be a bit big for you, but I can mend the hems up on a few things tonight. Give me a moment…” Luhan bustled out of the room, and Jongdae was left alone.

He looked around. The room was quite small, but there was a rough-hewn chair and table in one corner. The pile of blankets, the pillow and quilt lay in the other corner. There was a small window, but the curtains were drawn shut over it. Jongdae looked down at his feet and grimaced when he saw the brown-grey grime coating his feet. There had been little time or point in keeping clean beyond what was necessary when he was alone; but now, with Luhan, he could look forward to his whole body being clean for the first time in a while.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and Jongdae looked up to see Luhan smiling patiently at him with some clothing in his hands.

“Here.” Luhan passed him the clothing and a bar of soap. “I won’t be out in front of the house for a while. Enjoy yourself.”

Jongdae nodded curtly and left the little cottage, walking up to the edge of the stream. He glanced back warily at the cottage, and decided to follow the stream a little ways into the trees for privacy’s sake.

He didn’t know if he could trust Luhan yet. Maybe Luhan was another survivor who’d lost his mind and would turn on him eventually. Maybe he’d actually gone mad and Luhan was just a figment of his imagination. Maybe Luhan was someone from some great scheme of the government that was taking out civilian survivors. But for now, he had the promise of a safe place, cleanliness, and company for the first time in a while—and Jongdae was sure as hell going to take it.

Over the next few weeks, Luhan and Jongdae got to know each other. Luhan refused to reveal much about his past, but Jongdae quickly observed that he was handy around the house and liked singing when he was gardening. Sometimes, Jongdae sang along with him; he’d been a professional singer before the apocalypse, but the months of silence had done a real number on his singing. He doubted it would ever get back to the quality it used to be. He’d let Jongdae hover around anxiously for a couple days before putting him to work doing some much-needed repairs in the house.

Jongdae stared at the hole in the attic floor. “How have you been surviving?” he asked, appalled. “If you came in here at night you could fall through that thing to your death.”

Luhan shrugged at him. “It’s not like the house was brand new when I showed up. You’d be amazed at how far I’ve come on my own.”

According to Luhan, he’d been in the cottage for about three months now. He claimed to have hidden in the mountains until things had settled down. Everything he had here had been scavenged along Luhan’s journey, or been made himself.

Jongdae snorted and picked up the toolkit. How lucky had Luhan been to even find this thing? “Well, I’ll have it fixed within two hours, so I guess we don’t need to worry about it anymore.” Grumbling, he started setting up his work station.

He looked up to see Luhan giving him a fond look. A blush came unbidden to Jongdae’s face. “What?” he demanded.

Luhan shook his head at him and left the room. Jongdae went back to his work, his ears red and his cheeks on fire.

He’d known he was gay for a long time; he’d come out to his family and community long before the apocalpyse. And Luhan was so beautiful, it was hard to hide it when Luhan had an effect on him. Luhan’s smile was so beautiful, and the look in his eyes somehow always gave Jongdae hope to keep surviving. To keep living. To not give up.

Jongdae sighed and carefully knelt down by the hole to start figuring out what dimensions of wood he would need to cover it up. Luhan was reticent about his personal life, and Jongdae knew he shouldn’t trust him—but he was also one of the only things keeping Jongdae alive in the moment.

The next morning, Jongdae walked out to the back of the cottage. As usual, Luhan was up to his elbows in dirt and weeds, meticulously cleaning and caring for the small garden. There were tomatoes, zucchinis, pumpkins, turnips and a patch of daisies that Luhan cared for zealously.

Luhan looked up and saw Jongdae sitting on the edge of the back porch. “Good morning.”

Jongdae smiled. “Hey. Need any help?”

“No.” Luhan turned back to the weeds he was pulling out. “I was so lucky that these seeds weren’t dead yet.”

“Yeah.” Jongdae sat back and watched Luhan work. “Do you have any others?”

“I tried planting peas, but they kept dying on me so I gave up on them.” Luhan wiped some sweat from his forehead and left a small smear of dirt in its wake. “The seed packets are in the small shed by the daisies if you want to check them out. You could start your own project back here if you wanted to.”

Jongdae hopped down from the porch and walked over to Luhan. Luhan looked up at him questioningly, but Jongdae just cupped his face and gently wiped the dirt away with his thumb.

There was no mistaking the blush that lit up Luhan’s cheeks as they stood there, frozen in the tender moment.

A bird called softly in the distance, and the moment was broken. Jongdae stepped back and wiped his thumb on his pants. “Thanks for the tip.” He kept walking past Luhan and into the small dusty shed to look for the plant seeds.

He knew he was blushing too. Was it possible that Luhan might feel the same way that he did? But how did he even feel? Did he just like Luhan because Luhan might be the only other man left on earth? Or did he really like Luhan for who he was?

Jongdae frowned at the thought. He supposed that he really did like Luhan’s warm, gentle personality—but it wasn’t like he had anyone else to compare his feelings to. Maybe they were really just friendly feelings of affection.

Jongdae shook his head on himself. What was he doing, questioning himself right after he’d tried flirting with Luhan? He turned his attention to the shed and saw a small basket with several seed packets in it. He brushed through them, and froze when he saw the label on one. He picked it up and slowly passed it between his hands as he stood still, and considered.

The next day, Jongdae woke up early to go work in the garden.

“Hey!” Luhan waved cheerfully at him from the back porch, and Jongdae smiled at him.

“Hello!” Jongdae carefully patted down the soil in front of him.

“So you started a project.” Luhan strode over and crouched down beside him. “What are they?”

A small smile tugged at Jongdae’s lips as he looked over at Luhan’s face. Luhan gazed at him openly, his eyes warm and a small smile on his lips. Jongdae thought of his room in the cabin, with the cozy blankets and the sunflower quilt and sun shining through the window.

Jongdae glanced down at the damp soil beneath his hands. “They’re sunflowers.”

Jongdae watched as Luhan’s face bloomed into a beautiful, golden smile.

Two months later, they had their first kiss. Jongdae had barely been able to contain himself from exploding at all of the tension that had built up between them. There had been flirting, soft shy touches, and strange symbolic conversations—and one morning, Jongdae was just so anxious that he had leaned across the table and kissed Luhan squarely on the mouth.

After a couple seconds, he drew back and watched Luhan stare at him in surprise, a pretty flush crossing his cheeks.

“Was that okay?” Jongdae held his breath.

Luhan responded by getting up, coming around the table, planting himself in Jongdae’s lap and tilting his head up for more.

Jongdae loved Luhan. He loved the little cottage in the forest, he loved their garden. He loved the clear stream and the lushness of the grass. He loved being able to come back every day and hug Luhan and hold him close. He was grateful that Luhan was a part of his life, his sunshine, his saving grace.

But Luhan was no longer the only thing driving his life. There was housework to do, and he’d learned to care for himself and appreciate and trust himself once again. But there was one more thing—an itch that Jongdae desperately wanted to scratch, but was also afraid of the consequences.

“Luhan.”

“Yes?” Luhan looked up at Jongdae. They were lying in Jongdae’s blanket “nest” together; Jongdae smiled when he remembered Luhan laughing and saying how fitting it was, because of the way his lips curled when he smiled.

“What if we’re not the only ones?” Jongdae asked.

Luhan stiffened beside him, and then sighed. “I knew this day would come.” Luhan sat up, and Jongdae sat up to face him.

“What do you mean?” Jongdae frowned.

“You want to go back out there. Explore the wild. See if you can find someone else,” Luhan said softly.

Jongdae’s lips tightened. He couldn’t deny it. “I do,” he said at last. “Don’t you? I know I was lonely, half-mad before I found you. But weren’t you, too?”

Luhan bit his lip and reached out to hold Jongdae’s hands. “I…there’s something I haven’t told you.”

Jongdae’s hands tightened instinctively. Was this it? The big reveal to those suspicions he’d had lurking in the back of his head refusing to quiet their doubts, all this time?

“Have you heard the story about Pandora’s box?”

Jongdae blinked. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. “Yeah. I have. Pandora received a gift from Zeus with strict instructions not to open it. But she did, and unleashed evil onto the world.”

“But something stayed in the box,” Luhan said softly. “Isn’t that right?”

Jongdae thought back to his classics class in ninth grade of high school. It had been years and years ago, and all of this had happened…but somehow he still remembered. “Hope,” he said quietly. “Hope stayed in the box.”

“That’s right.” Luhan took a deep breath. “Jongdae...”

“You’re hope?” Jongdae asked, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Are you even…real? Human?”

Luhan let out a broken laugh. “Yes. I’m real, I’m human. If you cut me, I bleed. My body functions just like yours does. But I just—I just know. I am the embodiment of Hope in the world right now.”

There was a beat of silence. “That’s crazy talk,” Jongdae said flatly.

Luhan let out a small noise of despair. “I don’t know how I can prove it to you,” he said softly. “I just know. I woke up one day, and I knew to come here from the mountains. Imagine my surprise when I found this place, a small safe haven. I don’t know who, or how, or why—I just know.”

Jongdae frowned. It was hard to believe; human beings didn’t just usually have epiphanies about being the only representations of an abstract idea on a regular basis. Or ever, really.

But the more Jongdae thought about it, the more he could believe. He’d been identifying Luhan as his source of hope ever since he got here. He’d learned how to live and hope from other things, like his sunflowers, but Luhan lay at the root of it all.

“Suppose I believed you,” he said at last. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t leave this place.” Luhan squeezed his hand solemnly. “Hope never left humanity. And this is the root of the healing of the world; for whatever reason, I know that it begins here. And thus, I can’t leave this cottage.”

Jongdae nodded slowly. “So you can’t come with me, if I go.”

“That’s right,” Luhan said softly. “But…if you really need to go, I’ll still be here when you return. If you return.”

“I will,” Jongdae instinctively promised. “If I ever leave, I will return here. You can count on me.”

“Okay.” Luhan smiled gently at him, and Jongdae’s heart broke. How did he deserve this beautiful, gentle person sitting before him? “I will.”

Jongdae nodded slowly. “You knew that I would want to go out again.”

Luhan shrugged. “I would too, if I could. I love you, you know. You’re more than enough for me—but it’s worth wondering.”

“This is the root of the healing of the earth?” Jongdae asked. “So—this beauty and life we found here. Does that mean it’s slowly spreading out around us?”

“That’s what I think,” Luhan said softly. “But I can’t really find out.”

Jongdae nodded. They sat in silence for a few moments.

Jongdae cleared his throat. “I’ll probably leave in a few days. But I promise, I won’t be gone long.”

“I believe you,” Luhan said warmly. “I know.”

“Okay.” Jongdae reached out and pulled Luhan into a hug. He could feel the muscles in Luhan’s back shift beneath his hands, and he was suddenly struck by how fragile Luhan felt in his arms. He leaned his head in and gently pressed his face into Luhan’s neck as he fought down a wave of tears. Luhan’s arms tightened around him, and for the first time in a long while, Jongdae felt at peace.

True to his word, five days later Jongdae was ready to leave. He had a bag packed with essentials. He had sturdy clothing to withstand the coming winter temperatures. He promised Luhan that he wouldn’t be gone for too long—two months at the most.

“I’ll be back,” Jongdae said firmly. “And until I’m back, take care of my sunflowers for me, okay?”

Luhan nodded, tears shining in his eyes and a hand pressed over his mouth.

Jongdae smiled warmly at him. “I picked those sunflowers because they remind me of you,” he said gently. “You give me so much happiness. So don’t be sad when you look at them, okay?”

Luhan burst into tears, and Jongdae pulled him into one last hug. He waited for Luhan’s torso to stop shuddering before squeezing him tightly and letting go.

Jongdae left the glade, and forced himself not to look back. He knew that if he did, he would never be able to leave.

Epilogue

Luhan sat quietly on the front porch of the cottage. The chimney belched little puffs of steam as a fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace to keep the evening chill at bay.

Luhan sighed and crossed his legs. He did this every night, as he waited for Jongdae to come back. It had been seventy-five days since Jongdae left. He wondered if it was possible for Hope to give up.

Luhan sighed and stood up. Those were dangerous thoughts—he had no idea what would happen to the world if he even dared to give up on himself. He had to keep believing in Jongdae, that Jongdae would come back to him eventually.

Sometimes, Luhan wondered if Jongdae had really been able to find another group of humans. If he had taken another lover. If Jongdae was so enchanted by real society that he would never come back to their home in the forest.

Luhan sighed and turned to go back in the house. The house and the garden seemed so empty these days. It had been hard at first, but Luhan had taken to caring for Jongdae’s sunflowers to keep his pain at bay.

But then the sunflowers had wilted and fallen to rest for the autumn and winter, and Luhan was alone. No one sang along with him in a bright clear voice when he worked in the garden. No one whined at him to come cuddle with them when the evening chores were done. No one smiled brightly at him from across the table morning.

Luhan kicked at the wall despondently. How had he even managed living alone for three months before Jongdae? It was unbearable. And Jongdae had promised to be back within two months. He pouted sadly and massaged his foot before turning towards the door—

And he froze. He’d heard something crackle in the forest behind him, he was sure of it. Luhan whirled around, and saw the person he most wanted to see in the world walking towards him, a beautiful smile curling on his lips.

Luhan didn’t think twice and ran down the steps and tumbled straight into Jongdae’s arms. He squeezed him as hard as he could and burst into frantic tears.

Jongdae’s arms came up and wrapped around him firmly, and Luhan sobbed harder when he felt Jongdae brush a gentle kiss against his forehead.

“I missed you,” Luhan sobbed. “I missed you so much.”

“I know. And I missed you.” Jongdae rubbed his back gently, up and down, and Luhan’s breathing slowly started to calm down.

“Did you find other people?”

Jongdae nodded. “A group of three.”

“And?” Luhan peered down at Jongdae’s face.

Jongdae shrugged. “They were doing well. They were surviving. You were right, Luhan—the Earth is slowly coming back to life, and it seems to be spreading from here. They’re living a ways away from here, at the edges of the healing. I’m sure it’s spread past them by now, but—they’re happy. They’re a couple and a lone teenager they picked up along the way. They’ll be alright.”

“You didn’t want to stay with them?” Luhan asked hesitantly, and he hated the waver in his voice. He’d promised Jongdae that he would believe in him, damn it!

“Of course not.” Jongdae’s face softened, and he stood on his toes to give Luhan a kiss. “I missed you so much. I could barely wait to come back here, to our home again.”

Luhan felt his eyes filling up with tears, and he couldn’t help the sobs that escaped him as he stood in Jongdae’s arms.

He felt Jongdae hold him tightly, and he hugged Jongdae back equally as tightly. Hope had its Faith back in its arms, and all stood right in the world once more.

The End

a/n: It was a change of pace to try and write something like this! I hope everyone enjoyed this very pure and simple love story~ Comments are always highly appreciated! See you all in another story :)