This is a story where the starting is the end and the end is the starting. Jongin wrinkles his nose and shuts the dusty Korean literature book close. There are better things to do than waste his afternoon away with wannabe deep quotes. For example, playing a game of Mario Cart on his Wii with Kyungsoo is definitely a better option than getting tangled in words that seem more foreign than Italian.

“Don’t you have Korean literature homework to do,” Kyungsoo teases as Jongin drags him away from the refrigerator into his room, muttering something about already having warned him not to wander off by himself and what if his mum returns home and sees a tub of ice cream floating in the air. Jongin scowls at him and gives him a playful slap on his shoulder.

“shut up do you know how boring it is having to crawl through 500 pages of Kim Kyungsoo and his love for apples,”  two karts gear up at the start line and a cheery “RACE START” flashes across the tv screen along with too-loud trumpet horns.

“hey, that’s my name,”

“no it isn’t, now shut up and god, how many times did I tell you, YOU CAN’T USE YOUR POWERS FOR THIS,”

Kyungsoo sticks his tongue out as Jongin continues to float upside down in the air. Jongin’s cart plunges down a cliff while Kyungsoo’s speeds through turns and slopes right through the black and white checkered finish line.

“YOU’RE A CHAMPION” the game congratulates with stars and sparkles. Jongin lands back onto the ground with a sore and an even bitter frown.

“you’re a cheater,” he says crossing his arms and Kyungsoo’s laughter isn’t supposed to sound like the voice of an angel but it does.

“no I’m not, I’m a champion,”

Kyungsoo shouts “ouch” when the Korean literature book flies into his face. But, both Jongin and he know that it doesn’t hurt. Afterall, the Undead can’t feel anymore.

Kyungsoo’s only been around for 6 months but to Jongin, he feels like he’s known him for about 4 decades already.  Sometimes, as Jongin floats in midair watching the smaller sized boy go about having fun doing stuff that Jongin personally begged him not to i.e trying on his mother’s bikini (“what are these, they didn’t have these funny garments that show so much skin back in those days”) and eating five whole packets of chips in one go (“you’ll get sick!” jongin had roared, thrashing hard in midair while Kyungsoo continues to stuff the powder coated crisps in between his cherry lips, large doe eyes wrinkling up into crescents as he laughs, “not me,”), he wonders how he had even manage to survive 17 years of his life without a short pale boy with dark eyebrows, laughing his heart shaped smile, tottering (or gliding, when he was tired at times) after Jongin everywhere.

“tell me about yourself again,” Jongin says as they lie on the bed together. Jongin lies facing the other, wistful eyes staring at the smaller while Kyungsoo faces the ceiling, painted a nice shade of dark blue, covered with plastic luminous stars that glow with a yellowish-green hue when the lights are off. Kyungsoo casually slips his hand into Jongin’s. Smooth creamy palms against calloused large tanned ones.  Kyungsoo laughs again and Jongin thinks he’s damned because his heart thumps in sync with every fall and rise of Kyungsoo’s tiny narrow shoulders.

“I’m an Undead,” the paler boy moves over so that they’re now facing each other, heart shaped smile scalding against Jongin’s chest. Jongin wonders if he can hear his heart thundering. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kyungsoo  can hear his heart practically breathing “you’re perfect” with every beat because well, Kyungsoo’s not human.

“Undeads are called Undeads because they stand between the line of the Living and the Dead. They are immortal, you have a fine 283 year old specimen here right in front of you. There are many different types of Undead and they exist for many different reasons. Some are Undead because they are seeking vengeance, those are the worst of the lot, they have dark, bulging eyes, a throat slit with tight iron chains and fingernails as long as 10 miles because their hatred has already eaten up their soul so its feeding on their flesh instead. They scare me,” Kyungsoo breathes, shuddering just a little, “some are Undead because they have some uncomplete business on Earth. They usually cross the bridge of doves once they’ve finished whatever they have to finish and enter the Realm. And some, just wake up and bam! Here we are condemned to wandering the Earth as creatures without a heart but gifted with many special abilities like,” Jongin finds himself floating in the air (again), suddenly dressed in his mother’s best evening gown.

“that’s not nice, Kyungsoo!” he yelps in shock as he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror across his room. Kyungsoo’s smile has just the right amount of straight white teeth and just the right amount of red gums as Jongin flops back down onto the blankets below.

“You belong to class 3, right?” Jongin asks after a while when the laughter and teasing has died down and Kyungsoo is huddled tightly against him, small palms rubbing at sleepy eyes.

“You don’t see me having bulging eyes and a scary slit throat, right?”

“I don’t know about that,” Jongin teases. His cheeky eyes are met with amused ones. Kyungsoo mumbles something about being kind and not making him float in the air for the rest of his life for his bad joke.

Kyungsoo brings the covers up around the both of them, small palms pressed against broad shoulders, legs tangling together. Jongin feels his stomach tying itself into all kinds of funny knots when a bed of soft hair tickles his nose from where Kyungsoo’s head rests on his chest. Kyungsoo’s head rises and falls with every breath Jongin takes and Jongin thinks that this is exactly what he needs for the rest of his life. Simple, but for forever.

“I like the stars,” a soft voice whispers, already laced with sleep.

Stars? Jongin sees Kyungsoo fumbling in his half-asleep state to point at the ceiling.

“I like the stars too, they’re perfect,” Jongin replies and the Undead seems satisfied with the answer because he presses a soft kiss to his lips. They both know that Jongin isn’t talking about stars anymore.

Jongin chooses to thread his fingers through soft locks of hair than sleep.

“we will be for forever, right?”

Kyungsoo turns in his sleep and Jongin takes that as a “yes”.

The road back home from school is too long. Jongin almost pisses himself while rushing to get home. He can already imagine Kyungsoo sitting on his bed, legs swingly, pink lips pressed into a pout, “what took you so long?”

Kyungsoo had insisted that he accompany Jongin to school once. Jongin for all his stubborn manliness fell for his pout and puppy eyes immediately. Kyungsoo wasn’t even halfway through his “pretty please with a –“ when Jongin had already shook his head and  muttered  something along the eyes of damn pout, and okay you can come but don’t you dare fall for some other human monster. Kyungsoo could have said  “pretty please with a piece of hell on top” and Jongin would still agree. Probably. Jongin was whipped.

But what happened was apparent floating books and food trays which scared the entire school population less. Jongin realised that while nobody except him could see Kyungsoo, the things kyungsoo touched could still be seen. Which happened to be floating forks and spoons. Jongin tried his best to tell everyone that it was some cool illusion trick he picked up from the internet over the holidays but the principal still called in an exorcist anyways (Jongin remembers watching the man with a bushy beard sprinkle beads and ashes of burnt paper onto the ground and worrying that kyungsoo would suddenly turn into a puddle of goo or something) and the canteen was cordoned off for 2 days.  Jongin had shoved Kyungsoo out of the school gates that day, “go home and don’t talk to strangers!”

That night they had a serious (but really it was mostly Kyungsoo laughing and Jongin trying to get down to business) talk about what Kyungsoo can do and what Kyungsoo most certainly must never do (including showing up in school and making everyone see floating furniture).  Kyungsoo agrees to whatever terms and conditions Jongin spews out from his mouth and looks confused when Jongin insists that they pinky promise. Kyungsoo looks cute with his head tilted head, confusion swimming in his large eyes as they study the pinky Jongin had stretched out. Warm hands meet cold ones and gently extend a small pinky finger. The two fingers curl against each other and Kyungsoo breaks into a smile, “Is this a pinky promise?”

“yeah,” Jongin breathes, trying not to get lost in the smaller’s brown eyes, their intertwined fingers slowly letting go of each other.

Soft giggles before an enthusiastic “I love pinky promises” fill the air and his pinky is grabbed by Kyungsoo’s cold ones again and again.

Jongin swings the front door open and hums a cheerful “I’m home!” He never did expect to be greeted with the sight of his house in wreck. Tables over turned. Paint peeled. Blackened walls. Shattered glass. He doesn’t even have time to scream for Kyungsoo when he sees it.

Bulging eyes, darkened peeling skin, an iron chain with sharp spikes digging into a thin throat, sharp curves of yellow nails dripping with crimson red, the colour of human blood. Jongin’s cry is strangled and caught in his throat. His feets are nailed dead to the rotten wood of the floor as the creature approaches. Deformed twisted blackened lips stretch into a smile, chilly and menacing.

Undead Class 1. They seek for vengeance. They scare me.

The stench is foul. It smells like rotten flesh and Death. The substance dripping from rows of crooked and yellowed teeth is sticky and repulsive. Jongin’s cries for Kyungsoo is blood curdling but quiet.

“taking away an innocent life, like how mine was taken away,” a raspy voice sneers, “my idea of fun,” Jongin can’t move as a long fingernail trails down his face and neck, coming to rest right at his chest where his heart is hammering against his ribcage.

“how would you like it?” the face is into Jongin’s and he chokes on his fear, “a stab right here?” the finger nail pokes at his chest, “or a break of the neck?” repulsion engulfs Jongin as foul breath ghosts over his tingling neck, “but I’m feeling a little hungry right now….”

Jongin forces his eyes shut and goes limp and rotting jaws stretch and long slippery tongue curls to swallow him up whole.

Jongin wakes up in a bed. His bed. There’s an unmistakable sound of crying. The figure seated beside his bed as his head pressed against the covers, shoulders heaving up and down.

“Hey,” jongin struggles to sit up, running his fingers through the other’s hair, “it’s alright don’t cry.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, face still hidden, sniffles still ringing, “I’m so so sorry, Jongin. This is all my fault.”

“hey, hey, look at me,” Jongin says gently, reaching out to cup the small cold face with his palms. Kyungsoo’s eyes are red rimmed and swollen with tears, “I’m alright now, don’t cry.”

“You’re struggling,” Kyungsoo points out as Jongin’s hands tremble a little against his face, tears spilling down his ashen cheeks, “and this is all my fault.”

“this isn’t your fault, baby,” his heart is stricken as he sees guilt swallowing up Kyungsoo’s irises, “no one knew that class one Undead would arrive. And, look, you’ve saved me and here I am alive, right?” Kyungsoo shakes his head as silent tears ring through the air. Jongin reaches for his hand but Kyungsoo pulls his small hand away.

“I’m not a class three Undead afterall,” the whisper sounds like a gunshot, fired right into Jongin’s chest, piercing through his heart. The conversation is unspoken but understood. Kyungsoo has uncomplete work. Kyungsoo will leave the human world and enter the Realm once he completes it. Kyungsoo will leave Jongin.

“My uncomplete work was to protect you,”

Jongin’s widened eyes are desperate, pleading. Trembling fingertips beg to intertwine with small pained ones. Quivering lips bite back replies, doe eyes flutter close, teardrops staining eyelashes. ”You aren’t going to leave me,” fuzzy thumbs caress soft skin, voice raspy and imploring, “you aren’t right?”

“Jongin, I,” Kyungsoo tries to complete his sentence but he can’t because his voice is swallowed and engulfed by painful tongues of pain. Kyungsoo’s lips are quivering as Jongin kisses him. Thin fingers slip under his shirt. Fire, fire burns at his ribs as Jongin’s lips push even more reverently against his. Kyungsoo tastes salty tears on his lips. Kyungsoo tastes the bitterness of broken futures on Jongin’s tongue. Kyungsoo tastes pain as breathy moans are replaced with quiet sobs.

“Don’t leave me,” Jongin begs, fingertips pressing hard against Kyungsoo where he held him, as if afraid Kyungsoo would disappear any second.

“I never will,”

Pinky fingers interlock but a heart breaks.

Daybreak comes with an empty bed and an even emptier heart. Jongin raises a shaking palm to his chest, feeling the light beating of his heart, His mum greets him “good morning” at the breakfast table, the Math teacher is crabby as usual, he gets hit in the face with the ball during the soccer game during Physical Education. Jongin wonders how the world still spins when everything he lives for is gone.

His room is black, like his heart. Hands gently pick at the blankets. The luminous stars on the ceiling seem to mock him, sniggering at him. It’s hard to believe that Kyungsoo was lying here on this very bed the night before and many nights before. “Dinner time, jongin!” his mum sing songs from downstairs and Jongin mumbles a soft “coming,” eyes blank and vacant. His stands on his bed, fingers touching the stars on the ceiling. Admist the inky black of his room, the window across the room seems to be glowing.

Jongin is not Jongin anymore. If a heartless chest was all it took to become an Undead, Jongin is already a part of them. Legs work on auto pilot, swinging themselves over the windowsill. Dying will be great, the rustling leaves of the tree outside sings, you’ll be with Kyungsoo, forever.

A deep breath is drawn. Behind closed eyes, he sees rainbows and a heart shaped smile.

“ugh,” the pain shooting through his body is excruciating. Jongin gets up from the floor, head still spinning. He sees his Korean Literature book beside him, page opened. The window is closed and bolted with a lock that was never there before.  Jongin feels weird chills, in a good way. Before a hesitant “kyungsoo?” can roll off his tongue, a white feather peeks out from between the pages of the book.

The feather is soft and warm against his pale fingertips.

Page 283; Kim Kyungsoo thinks that apples are the best thing in life. If not for apples, his entire existence would have

don’t be stupid, Jongin. Don’t you dare think of killing yourself. Live your life brighter than ever, smile wider than ever, do stupid things that make you laugh, find someone else that’ll make you smile even more than ever, someone that’ll cuddle with you, laugh with you, do all sorts of stupid things with you. I’ll always be with you, but life is not over without me, do you understand you dumb. I love you. P.s do your Korean literature homework double p.s souvenir from the dove bridge. (got pecked by that stupid bird, be grateful!)  thriple p.s the starting is the end and the end is the starting. Quadruple p.s I so did not plagiarize that from your Korean literature book. Fivetruple (is this what you call it) p.s I love you. The people in authority at the Realm are getting impatient now they think my message is too long so I have to go now, but, I love you. Ah heck, sixthtruple p.s I love you

been just a black hole.

Jongin goes to sleep watching the stars twinkle above him and at night, he dreams of a heart shaped smile and pinky promises.

angsty-ish with a bit of fluff (i hope?) please leave a comment if you liked this it means alot to me :>