The scene that unfolds before Kyungsoo is one that’s familiar, one that incites a warmth in his chest even as he’s still trying to figure out where, exactly, he is. He’s wearing an outfit he’s worn too many times for him to count, a navy blue tshirt and black jeans, and they don’t give him any clues at all as to where he is.

Or when he is.

Something buzzes in his pocket. He retrieves his phone, takes a look at it and has to take a deep breath - it’s the 19th of May 2012, and the sight of the date and the text below it makes fissures form in his heart.

Jongin 2m
Happy anniversary, baby. I’m gonna be a little late, sorry!

It’s his first anniversary with Jongin. The memories come rushing back to him, now - Jongin telling him that he was going to be late, Jongin showing up with a single rose for him, Jongin apologising profusely and giving him the most romantic evening of his life - and he smiles.

This is the Jongin he loves.

He sits down on a bench, lets his eyes watch traffic for a while as people pass him by. It’s a nice evening, he thinks, smiling as an old couple join hands to cross the road, grinning at a couple of new parents and their baby. There’s so much joy in the general environment surrounding him, so many faces with smiles carved on them, and he leans back in content.

A middle aged man comes up to the bench, takes a seat next to him and Kyungsoo scoots over just a little to allow him some space. He’s eyeing a shiny red car as it rolls up to a stop at a traffic light when the man beside him begins to speak.

‘I’m not coming,’ he says, and Kyungsoo feels his blood run cold, whole body freezing up as it dawns on him that this wasn’t the man speaking, it couldn’t be.

Because the voice that spilled from his lips was one that Kyungsoo knew so, so well.

It was Jongin.

‘I’m - what?’ Kyungsoo manages, eyes trying to find the stranger’s, but failing. He won’t look him in the eye.

A young woman struts right up to him next, sunglasses glaring in the sunlight, and Kyungsoo squints up at her as she tilts her head down to look at him. ‘I’m not coming,’ she says, in the exact same tone of voice as the man - in the exact same voice as the man, in fact. Jongin’s voice spills from blood red lips and Kyungsoo can only stare up at her, wide-eyed, his mouth going dry and his throat beginning to close up.

‘But - but why?’ he asks, and then it seems as though the whole world comes to a halt, like the earth has stopped spinning and the wind has stopped blowing and everything is at a complete standstill.

Everyone, as far as Kyungsoo can see, has turned to face him.

‘You abandoned me,’ they all say, all at once, chanting the words in unison and scratching them into the fragile bone of his skull. Horror begins to inch its way under his skin, settle in the spaces between his bones. All of them sound like Jongin, all of them are mocking him and he can’t get away. 

‘I would never - ’ he begins to say, but the rest of the people present pay no mind to his words. They begin to close in on him, every step closer making Kyungsoo’s skin burn, making him gasp for space, for air, to breathe - and then he notices.

All of them have their eyes on him, and all of their eyes are pitch black.

‘No,’ he whimpers, voice too weak to unleash a scream, just, ‘no,’ escaping in a single word from his lips.

‘You abandoned me,’ they all say again, and Kyungsoo curls in on himself, covers his ears with his hands and digs them so hard into his scalp that some of his hairs give way and let themselves be ripped out.

‘NO!’ he screams, but they’re still closing in on him, still inching ever closer with every step, and the burning just under the surface of Kyungsoo’s skin intensifies, grows and grows until he feels like his entire being is on fire, as though he was more a pile of ash than human, now.

‘All those lies,’ they say, and Kyungsoo wants to claw his ears off, anything, to stop himself from hearing the words - ‘All those times you said you loved me - ’

‘I meant it every time!’ Kyungsoo tries to yell, but to no avail - his voice is a fragile chime in place of a full-blown siren, and the people around him just continue to taunt him.

‘Liar,’ says a small boy, darkened eyes fixed on him in malice.

‘Liar,’ says an old woman, the wrinkles on her face set with anger.

Slowly, one by one, the rest of the crowd join in, all of them chanting the same word, but not in perfect unison anymore - they’re all saying it, calling him a liar over and over again but with their own rhythms, each lending their voices to the twisted symphony that tortures Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo wants to scream through a throat that won’t make a sound, wants to escape from a body that traps him in his misery, and -



 

And he opens his eyes, and his body isn’t burning anymore, and his ears aren’t ringing with too many sounds of the same voice. It takes a few seconds for him to realise that he’s panting, his chest heaving up and down and his covers are thrown off to the side, but when he does, he focuses on steadying himself.

Deep breaths, he tells himself, deep breaths and serene thoughts. He needs to calm down, he isn’t in any kind of danger.

Once his breathing is even again and his heartbeat has become considerably less erratic, a thought creeps into his mind and he’s almost too afraid to entertain it.

But he sits up, anyway, neck aching, fingers trembling. He sits up and he looks, and sure enough, Jongin’s there.

He’s just staring at Kyungsoo, expression blank, while the latter frowns back at him.

You were tossing and turning

‘And?’ Kyungsoo snaps, trying to ignore how he doesn’t even flinch anymore at the sound of Jongin’s voice inside his head.

Bad dream

‘So what if it was?’ asks Kyungsoo, venom dripping from his words.

Jongin doesn’t say anything for a long minute, just lets his silver eyes rake over Kyungsoo’s form - the sweat that’s accumulated along his brow and temples, the determined set of his jaw, the defensive shield on all his words -

And Jongin just smiles.

It unsettles Kyungsoo, makes all the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Goodnight, Kyungsoo

And then he’s gone again.




He wakes the next morning to an empty room, doesn’t hesitate to get himself ready and out of the apartment to start his day. He still feels a slight chill going down his spine as he walks - but he decides to shrug it off. It can’t be what he thinks it is.

He finds Jongdae sitting at a table in the courtyard with his laptop and books sprawled out in front of him, Chanyeol across from him, watching with interest and a styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands.

‘Morning,’ Kyungsoo greets, trying not to sound too disgruntled or exhausted as he settles down next to Chanyeol. He doesn’t see the look of wariness that Chanyeol sends Jongdae.

‘Hi,’ says Chanyeol, and his voice comes out cautious. He opens his mouth again - probably to say something about the state of Kyungsoo’s hair or how the bags under his eyes have somewhat evolved into bruises - but he closes it again. It’s no use, anyway.

‘Where’s your assignment?’ asks Jongdae, immediately fixing Kyungsoo with his tired - and yet, still alert - glare. Jongdae was a fairly fast worker, but he got distracted way too easily and Kyungsoo was the opposite. He was concentration embodied, was meticulous with his work and, together with Jongdae, they made quite the team.

Which is why, after an entire night of trying his best to distill his thoughts and muster up enough concentration without the other half of his team, Jongdae was slightly agitated this morning.

Kyungsoo winces.

‘I kind of… Didn’t get around to doing it,’ he admits, hanging his head slightly so he doesn’t have to look Jongdae in the eye.

Jongdae raises his eyebrows. ‘You… What?’ he splutters, disbelief edging out the anger in his tone. This is far from being like Kyungsoo - this wasn’t Kyungsoo at all. Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrow, and suspicion gleams in his eyes, silent.

‘Sorry,’ says Kyungsoo, somewhat sheepishly. Jongdae just waves his apology off, a sense of urgency replacing the irritation Kyungsoo expected him to feel.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he mumbles, stretching before he fixes his gaze on his laptop again, cracks his knuckles and fixes Kyungsoo with a kind of determined gaze he hasn’t given anyone in a while. ‘The important thing now is we get the thing done.’

‘I think, you type?’ suggests Kyungsoo, falling back into a familiar routine. Chanyeol isn’t paying attention anymore, fingers rapidly pressing keys in succession on his phone. A small smile’s playing just on the corner of his lips, but neither Jongdae nor Kyungsoo notice, finally getting into the swing of things.

‘Sounds good,’ says Jongdae, and with one last shared look of determination with Kyungsoo, he’s off.

They spend the next few days in this same routine, the only variation being Chanyeol’s sudden disappearance halfway through their Thursday morning session. Kyungsoo manages to cover most of what he’d been spacing out on during the semester and Jongdae helps him piece together all his points, forming a cohesive flow and even paraphrasing the entire assignment in another document for Kyungsoo to hand in.

The productivity, and the fact that Kyungsoo’s kind of focusing on not failing his class means that he comes home at night at a proper hour, gets himself into the apartment well before midnight and stays up well past it. It’s a welcome change from staying out until the last train’s gone, Kyungsoo thinks, but there’s one drawback: Jongin.

He pretends to brush it off, ignores completely the fact that Jongin seems to be waiting for him to come home, nowadays. Gone are the days when Jongin kept his distance, mocked Kyungsoo only from time to time with his presence - now, Jongin was waiting at the door for him, willingly coming closer to him, and try as Kyungsoo might - he can’t ignore it. He gets chills whenever Jongin comes near, gets nightmares about Jongin, can’t sleep without dreaming of Jongin and can’t be awake without being constantly reminded of his dead boyfriend.

And this Jongin - this Jongin was cruel.

There are times, in the middle of the night, when Kyungsoo’s focus is fully on his assignment that he’d feel a hand caress the back of his neck, ice in the flesh that touches him and he jumps. And Jongin would smile, and it’s not the same smile Kyungsoo fell in love with - this one is twisted, laced with malice, and Kyungsoo finds himself flinching away from the other man - he still doesn’t like calling whatever this thing was a man, but he was much more solid than a ghost would ever be, Kyungsoo thinks - and distancing himself as much as he can from him, only to have him turn up, inches away, moments later.

It begins to drive Kyungsoo insane.

It doesn’t feel like very long before the assignment becomes due and Kyungsoo finds himself sitting up at his laptop at ten to midnight, finger hovering over the Submit button glowing blue on his screen. He does a final check of his work - and he has to admit, as tiring as it can be to work with Jongdae sometimes, the guy produced quality work.

His eyes scan the last few sentences before he uploads the file and submits it, just in time.

When he shuts his laptop cover, he finds Jongin right across from him, resists the urge to jump back and yelp.

Finally done

‘That’s none of your business,’ says Kyungsoo angrily, getting up with a huff to put his laptop away. Jongin follows close behind him, Kyungsoo doesn’t even need to look to be able to tell - there’s a sudden block of cold just behind him, the way it’s been for close to two weeks now, and Kyungsoo hates how he’s gotten so used to it.

You are my business

‘I’m not,’ says Kyungsoo firmly, putting his laptop down and charging it.

You will always be my business

‘I stopped being your business when you died. I stopped being your business when I went to your funeral and ing held your mother as she cried for you. You’re dead, Jongin, dead. Leave me alone. You already did once. I buried you.’

Kyungsoo attempts to push past Jongin, to ignore him and maybe find a way to lock him out of his bedroom tonight - despite the amount of times he’d failed - but Jongin just stands in his way, blocks the doorway and there’s nothing but burning rage when he forces Kyungsoo’s face up to look at him, cold fingers gripping painfully tight on his chin.

You will never be alone
You will always be mine

‘No,’ says Kyungsoo defiantly, and he’s about to go on another rant, rave at Jongin about how he can’t continue being his if he’s dead - but just as he gathers up the words, his phone rings.

It’s Sehun.

Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate to answer.

‘Hyung? Busy tonight?’ asks Sehun, and even though his tone is casual, Kyungsoo can tell he’s out. The music that’s threatening to deafen him even through the phone is proof enough of that.

‘No,’ answers Kyungsoo. ‘Why?’

‘Great. Zitao and I are at this club - and we were just wondering if you wanted to join in. Haven’t really seen you around lately - Jongdae hyung said you guys have been working on school stuff, but it’s over today, right?’ asks Sehun, practically shouting down the line, trying to make himself heard.

Kyungsoo looks Jongin in the eye now, is sure the latter can hear Sehun even if he isn’t on speaker. ‘Yeah,’ says Kyungsoo, eyes never leaving Jongin’s. ‘I’m not doing anything tonight. Where are you guys?’

‘It’s this club called Glitz. Really lame name, but really good booze and really interesting people. I can send you the address. You in?’

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow and a corner of his lips at Jongin, as if staking his claim over his own freedom. ‘Sure,’ he says, still looking Jongin dead in the eye.

‘See you soon then, hyung!’ says Sehun, and then he hangs up. Kyungsoo moves away and changes out of his clothes and into more presentable ones instead, aware that Jongin’s watching him all the while. He grabs his jacket and his keys and spares one last look at Jongin, who stands there staring at him without a word.

Seconds pass, and Jongin disappears.

Kyungsoo leaves.




Weeks pass in exactly the same way. Kyungsoo begins coming home later and later, but Jongin just keeps waiting for him, cold presence nailed to the entryway of his apartment. It doesn’t matter what time Kyungsoo comes home - whether it be when the moon was still up, surrounded by stars, or when the sun had begun to bleed the colours of a new day into the sky - no matter when he came back, Jongin would be there waiting for him.

And Kyungsoo hates it.

He hates it because no matter what he does, no matter how many words he shouts at Jongin and how many broken smiles and twisted words he gets back, he can’t hide the fact that he’s still in love with him. Jongin - the real Jongin - had left him much too soon, and five drinks into his third night in a row one week at Glitz with Sehun and Zitao, Kyungsoo realised that it hurt so much because he wasn’t done.

Jongin had left him when he wasn’t done loving him, yet.

The realisation hits him square in the chest, the weight suffocating him and he begs Sehun to take him home - begs Zitao to let him go, to get him back to his apartment, even though it wasn’t yet past midnight. And Zitao doesn’t say anything when he sees the tears that are threatening to spill over, and Sehun doesn’t either, and the drive back to his apartment is stifling and silent and Kyungsoo wishes there was a way out of this, but there isn’t.

It’s difficult to escape when there’s nothing trapping you.

He pushes past Jongin the moment he gets into the apartment, locks his bedroom door behind him even though he knows it won’t do anything to hinder Jongin if the latter decided he wanted to be near Kyungsoo. He does it even though it’s useless, he does it to feel like he might have some sense of control over something that’s going wrong in his life.

He passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow, mind shrouded in an alcohol-induced cloud, body smelling of smoke and his skin beginning to itch with every thought that burns itself onto him.

He wakes with a start when the sun hasn’t quite broken dawn yet and night still clings to the light that’s beginning to fill the room, and Kyungsoo knows, for once, that it isn’t because of his dream.

It’s because there’s a face, cold and expressionless, staring down at him as he sleeps.

Kyungsoo screams.

‘LEAVE ME THE ALONE!’ he yells, kicking out at Jongin and swinging himself out of bed, only having the presence of mind to change into jeans and grab his phone and wallet, before he runs out of the apartment and doesn’t stop running, doesn’t stop until he gets to another apartment complex, goes up the elevator and his finger presses agitatedly against the doorbell of one of the units.

‘Yeol… Yeol, please open up...’ he begs, fists hammering against the wood of Chanyeol’s front door. He’s probably making way too much noise, and he’s probably going to get Chanyeol complaints from his neighbours, but there’s a sense of urgency pulsing in his veins and he feels like he’s being targeted and he wants to feel safe.

He needs to feel safe.

Chanyeol answers the door not a minute later. His eyes are alert and his hair is wild on top of his head, and there’s worry creasing his forehead the moment he sees Kyungsoo. ‘Soo - what are you doing here?’

‘Let me stay,’ begins Kyungsoo, lips pressing together to stop his words from failing. ‘Let me stay, just for a while, Yeol, please - ’

‘Chanyeol? Is something the matter?’ a sleepy female voice floats into Kyungsoo’s ears, and his eyes widen when a woman, dressed in one of Chanyeol’s tshirts and shorts, comes up to his best friend, lays a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes widen when she catches sight of Kyungsoo, and he supposes he really can’t blame her - he looks bewildered, alarmed and sweaty, and it’s probably not a scene people expect to wake up to in the mornings.

‘Um - Soo, this is Jinah,’ says Chanyeol, but already Kyungsoo’s backing away. ‘She’s my, um. New girlfriend,’ he says, his voice a cross between shy and cautious. Kyungsoo takes a few steps back, confusion marring his features. ‘I, uh - didn’t want to tell you and Jongdae yet, but, um - ’

‘No,’ says Kyungsoo, and his voice has come down somewhat, and it’s at a volume that’s acceptable for close to six in the morning. ‘No, I’m sorry,’ says Kyungsoo, before he turns on his heel and runs back down the hall.

‘Soo! Kyungsoo, where are you going?’ calls Chanyeol, but the elevator door shuts before he can get to Kyungsoo and the latter leans against metal wall, heart beating fast, gripping the metal bar that’s digging into his back. He can’t stay there. He can’t surround himself in an environment reeking of hope and new love - he can’t go to Chanyeol.

When the doors slide open again he sprints outside, exits the building and runs a few more blocks. His legs are screaming in protest and his body is beginning to properly ache, but he doesn’t stop until he reaches another, less familiar apartment block and makes his way inside. He’s too tired to cause a ruckus - too tired to summon up the storm that had finally died down in the middle of his chest as he rings Jongdae’s doorbell, slumps against his wall and waits.

Jongdae opens the door and hugs him wordlessly, gives up his bed and lets Kyungsoo sleep in it, instead. Kyungsoo gives him a tired thank you, tries to offer a smile, fails.

Jongdae just switches all the lights off, leaves the door open just a little and exits the room.

Kyungsoo doesn’t dream that night.




Jongdae shakes him awake one morning, his covers thrown off the couch and on the floor. Light floods the room and burns in Kyungsoo’s vision the moment he opens his eyes, and he squints up at Jongdae, disgruntled.

‘C’mon,’ says the elder, shaking Kyungsoo just a little. ‘Yeol just called. Told me he wants us to meet someone. And I’m betting it’s that girl he’s been hiding from us. I plan on embarrassing him somehow. You can help if you want.’

Kyungsoo groans but sits up, runs his fingers through his hair as Jongdae goes to get ready. When the elder’s done and dressed, Kyungsoo drags himself into the bathroom, lets cold water pelt down on him and doesn’t yell back when Jongdae hammers on the door and asks him tohurry the up. 

They’re out the door in ten minutes, Kyungsoo’s hair still a little damp, and when they get to the cafe Chanyeol had asked them to meet him at, Jongdae rolls his eyes. There’s a woman next to him, one who, it’s no use denying, has the type of beauty that captivates, and she’s laughing at something Chanyeol’s saying.

‘They’re so gross, I can already tell,’ grumbles Jongdae, but he pulls a smile on his face to go and greet them with, and Kyungsoo trails after him.

The girl - Jinah, Kyungsoo recalls - smiles at them, her beauty a little more refined than the last time Kyungsoo saw her. Her smile falters a bit when Chanyeol introduces her to Kyungsoo, but just by a little. She doesn’t really let anything show.

It doesn’t take them long to get acquainted. Jinah is easy to talk to, Kyungsoo discovers, and Jongdae gets along with her marvellously. Things are going so smoothly that Kyungsoo almost forgets the dull ache in his heart, the one that fires up just the slightest bit whenever Chanyeol leans to tuck a strand of stray hair back behind Jinah’s ear.

‘When did you get that?’ asks Jongdae, some time later, somewhat incredulously. Chanyeol’s about to tell him off for referring to his new girlfriend as that right to her face when he looks up, and sees that the question isn’t directed at him.

Jongdae’s asking Jinah.

‘Hey!’ Chanyeol half-shouts, indignant. Jinah throws her head back and laughs, hair cascading down her back.

Jongdae shrugs. ‘No but honestly, I’m sure you’ve seen her face. And then yours. And sort of wondered the same thing.’

Chanyeol leans back and folds his arms, dissatisfaction blooming on his features and Kyungsoo laughs, Jinah laughing with him. She leans her head on his shoulder and immediately his expression changes, and Jongdae pretends to throw up.

It’s been almost a week since Kyungsoo’s been staying at Jongdae’s. The elder hadn’t said anything to Kyungsoo when he’d woken up the next morning, just made him some breakfast and offered to let him stay for as long as he needed to. He’d gone over to Kyungsoo’s to get some of his things, raised his eyebrows when he saw nothing wrong with the place, but didn’t ask when he got back.

Kyungsoo probably had his reasons.

‘He’s pretty good looking, though, don’t you think?’ says Jinah, and she’s practically gushing, and Chanyeol smiles and tilts his chin up in triumph at Jongdae.

Jongdae just pretends to throw up again.

The rest of lunch goes by like this, peaceful chatter and happy laughter going all around, and Kyungsoo feels himself relax. Evening comes and they’re still in the cafe, and Kyungsoo feels like he’s beginning to slip back into his old self again, the Kyungsoo before all of this mess, and he’s about to laugh at something Jongdae’s saying when he spots him.

Kyungsoo stills. There, in the same cafe as him, seated amongst the other patrons, is Jongin.

The laughter dies on his lips.

Jongin is staring right at him, piercing silver eyes finding his own even in the crowd, and Kyungsoo feels a shiver run down his spine, feels a mixture of anger and fear begin to boil under his skin. By now Jongin can see that he’s caught Kyungsoo’s eye, and that same, infuriatingly condescending half-smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Kyungsoo pushes his chair away from the table and stands, rather suddenly, and upsets the glass of water in front of him.

‘Soo - ’ Chanyeol begins to say, but Kyungsoo’s already shaking his head, backing away from the table, the legs of his chair screeching against concrete floor.

‘No,’ says Kyungsoo, and there’s confusion and fear on all three of his friends’ faces, but he offers up no explanation, doesn’t even notice the expressions they wear, eyes fixated on Jongin.

Always

‘Always is OVER!’ he yells, before he bolts, runs right out of the cafe without a single glance backwards. He keeps running and running until he reaches an empty alley, takes one look around him to make sure he isn’t being followed, and slips into the alley to try and find room enough to breathe.

Peace is momentary, for Kyungsoo.

Always keeps echoing in the back of his mind in Jongin’s voice, over and over again, justJongin’s voice, until all he wants is to tear away from himself. But that isn’t possible, he knows, so he does the next best thing.

He runs.

He runs through streets and crowds of people, down alleys and around corners until he gets to a familiar street, one that’s only starting to draw in people, it being barely five in the evening, but Kyungsoo doesn’t care. He needs something that’ll take his mind off Jongin, something,anything, and as he pushes the door to the Stool open, he harbours high hopes of finding it.

It’s almost empty. The bartender is standing at his post, wiping down his glasses, and then his countertop, talking to another man who sits on this side of the bar, back to the entrance, when he spots Kyungsoo.

‘Oh,’ he says, something like recognition flickering in his eyes. ‘It’s you.’

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything. He just collapses on the first stool he sees, panting, and asks for a shot of something strong.

‘Isn’t it a bit too early to be drinking like this?’ asks the bartender, concern lining his words. It doesn’t stop him from pouring Kyungsoo some vodka in a shot glass.

‘Don’t ask,’ murmurs Kyungsoo, fingers curling gratefully around the tiny glass. He downs it all in one shot, throws his head back as the alcohol makes its way down his throat, and winces when it really hits him. ‘Got a smoke?’ he asks the man next to him, and smiles with a thank you when the man hands him a cigarette and lets him use his lighter.

It’s easier, now, to enjoy the burn in his chest when he inhales. It still hurts a little, but he’d rather feel physical pain now than the one that’s in his heart.

Anything but that.

The bar slowly begins to fill with people, all dressed in their Saturday night best, men and women with black lining their eyes, outfits leaving little to the imagination. The lights begin to dim and the room begins to grow warmer, and Kyungsoo just keeps drinking, and drinking and drinking.

He’s on what must be his tenth or eleventh shot when he asks for another, and gets a no in response. The bartender refuses to entertain him any longer, just ignores every shout and demand for another shot from Kyungsoo, and busies himself with serving the other customers.

Desperation begins to sneak into his mind, and Kyungsoo finds himself leaning across the bar, taking advantage of the sheer amount of people asking to be served, and snatches up the first full bottle of alcohol that his fingers can find, before he dashes out of the door, slips away before the bartender can realise that he’s been robbed.

He doesn’t get very far.

In fact, his legs wind up giving way right in the alleyway behind the bar, and he doesn’t bother trying to get up to run away this time. The world is spinning on its side and it’s dizzying, and Kyungsoo can’t be bothered to deal with any of it right now. Right now he just wants to unscrew the top of the bottle and let its contents trickle down his throat, right now, he just wants to close his eyes and forget.

So he does.

He’s more than halfway through the bottle when he hears a familiar voice speaking to him, but this time, it doesn’t come from the inside of his head.

‘Kyungsoo? Hyung, what the are you doing?’ asks the voice, and Kyungsoo wants to scream, because it’s Jongin’s voice again. It’s that voice he can never escape nowadays, no matter what he does.

‘Leave me alone,’ he slurs, kicking his legs out in protest. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, but he knows he will. It’s as if he isn’t even in control of his actions anymore, and his thoughts - well, he’d long since lost control of them.

‘The bartender told me you might be out here, so I - have you been drinking?’ asks the voice again, something like real concern in his voice and Kyungsoo lets out a laugh, a mirthless sound that rings. ‘Kyungsoo - seriously,’ the other man reaches out to grab his upper arm, but the moment he makes contact, Kyungsoo wriggles away from him, screams and throws the bottle in the man’s direction.

It smashes against the wall opposite, missing his companion’s head by inches.

With his eyes finally open, Kyungsoo can see that it isn’t Jongin.

It’s Sehun.

‘You’re ing crazy,’ Sehun says, entirely in his own voice. Kyungsoo should feel guilty, should apologise, but he doesn’t bother. Sehun’s already turning around and leaving him alone in the alleyway. Just as Kyungsoo leans against brick wall and shuts his eyes, he hears the faint sound of Sehun saying hey, hyung, it’s me. You need to come get your friend.

And then everything goes black.




‘Why the do I even bother,’ murmurs Chanyeol, letting Kyungsoo lean his body weight against him as he unlocks the door to his apartment, ignoring every protest that comes from the younger’s lips. ‘Why the  do I even bother,’ he repeats, grunting as he pushes the door open.

‘No, Yeol, no, please, take me to Jongdae’s I don’t - I don’t like it here - I don’t want to be here - ’

‘Get a HOLD OF YOURSELF!’ yells Chanyeol, dumping Kyungsoo’s weight on his couch. He’s fuming now, but Kyungsoo doesn’t make any move to stand up for himself, doesn’t yell back in Chanyeol’s face. Instead he begins to whine, begins to cry in earnest, his body still limp, pleas still pouring from his mouth.

‘Jongdae’s - Jongdae’s, take me to Jongdae’s - ’

‘Do you have any ing idea what time it is?’ asks Chanyeol, and his voice is low and dangerous now. This is it. He’s had enough. ‘Do you have any ing IDEA what time it is? You can’t expect him to be ing waiting up for you and worrying about you all night, Kyungsoo! That’s not right!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Kyungsoo sobs, ‘I’m sorry, Yeol, please take me someplace else - ’

Chanyeol shakes his head, drags his palm down his face. ‘No.’ he says, firmly, and ignores the wails Kyungsoo emits. ‘You’ve changed, Kyungsoo, and Jongdae and I - we don’t know what’s going on. We don’t know how to help you, because we don’t know you anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Yeol, I’m so sorry, I just - ’

‘Shut up,’ says Chanyeol coldly. ‘I’m done. This is the last thing I’m doing for you. No more, Kyungsoo. Goodbye.’

Kyungsoo wants to get to his feet, wants to cling to Chanyeol and beg for the latter to take him, too, not to leave him alone like this, in the apartment holding every last shard of his broken dreams - but he can’t move. He doesn’t have the energy to, and he only watches through blurry eyes as Chanyeol leaves.

For the first time in a long time, Kyungsoo feels truly alone.

It doesn’t last for long.

The next few seconds carry with it a certain kind of draft that Kyungsoo’s learned to recognise over the past couple of months, a cold that used to chill his bones and make his blood freeze in his veins the first few times he felt it.

A hand comes to rest on the side of his face, and Kyungsoo refuses to open his eyes.

How does it feel, to be alone

‘Go away,’ says Kyungsoo, eyes still screwed shut. ‘Go away and leave me the  alone!’

No

‘Why not?’ asks Kyungsoo, desperation beginning to punch cracks in his voice.

Because you don’t really want me to go

And Kyungsoo falls silent.

You see
You never want to be without me

‘That’s not true,’

You love me

‘I don’t - I don’t, not anymore - ’ but the conviction in Kyungsoo’s voice is so weak that even hecan hear the lie in it, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Jongin can, too.

Stop fighting it, Kyungsoo
Stop fighting it, and I’ll make you mine forever, the way you want to be

‘I don’t want to - ’

Don’t lie to me
I haunt you even when I’m not trying to
And you still love me though you try not to

The tears stop at Jongin’s words, and Kyungsoo wrenches his eyes open. Sure enough, there Jongin is, inches away from him, silver eyes glistening in the minimal light. They’re filled with something akin to kindness, and Kyungsoo manages to convince himself that Jongin’s saying all of this because he loves him, too.

Don’t you want all of this pain to stop

Kyungsoo nods. His words have done their part for him. Now, all that’s left is to listen.

Jongin stops touching Kyungsoo’s cheek. He steps back, straightens his back and holds his hand out to the man still slumped in the couch, expression filled with something that looks like fondness.

Take my hand, Kyungsoo
I’ll make it all go away

A feeling of calm washes over Kyungsoo, and the part that still trusts Jongin makes him reach out, put his hand in Jongin’s, and return that smile the latter has on.

Jongin wraps his fingers around Kyungsoo’s.

Everything goes black. 



 

The first thing Kyungsoo does is look at his phone. It’s the 17th of June 2011, the screen tells him, and already he’s wary of what’s to come. His dreams haven’t given him any reason to trust them, not recently, and he’s not about to start now.

He’s standing outside his old high school, the first rays of summer sun just beginning to emerge. He’s dressed pretty simply, this time - just jeans and a tshirt, and he thinks he’s probably waiting for school to let out.

For Jongin to come out.

Part of him thinks: what if he runs?

He hasn’t actually seen Jongin, not in any of his dreams, not up until this point. All he’d been subjected to are waves of people speaking in his voice, echoes and twisted reflections of Jongin that were nothing like the man he fell in love with. He didn’t know if he could handle it, anymore - he didn’t know if he wanted to keep thinking about Jongin, to keep being presented with distortion upon distortion of the man he’d once been in love with.

But there’s a different kind of glimmer in the atmosphere today, there’s a sheen of somethingdifferent coating the scene before him today. There’s something about this particular setup that makes him want to stay - so he does.

The final bell rings not too long after, and Kyungsoo begins to feel the sweat slickening his palms. His nerves are beginning to spike, and with every student that files out of the classroom, he feels his heart beat pick up just that much more.

Deep breaths don’t do anything for him - he can’t calm down, not now.

He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for.

Kyungsoo’s standing stock still right by the entrance, gets odd looks thrown at him as students jostle him out of the way. He flinches away from them, half out of instinct and half out of fear, completely expecting them all to stop, at one point, and begin talking to him in Jongin’s voice, begin taunting him in voices he can’t escape.

But a group of boys passes him, and then a group of girls, and then two or three more stragglers and nothing happens. They’re all busy talking to each other, busy trying to figure out which parts of the syllabus they’ll need to study for their exams, and none of them pay any mind to Kyungsoo.

None of them stop, none of them really take any notice of Kyungsoo and he sighs in relief. He’s about to turn around, head off in some random direction until, hopefully, he reaches the edges of his dream and falls awake again - but his trail of thoughts comes to a halt when a hand plants itself on his shoulder, warm and strong, and he stops.

‘Hey, beautiful,’ says that familiar voice, and Kyungsoo immediately freezes up.

It’s Jongin’s voice.

He his lips and shuts his eyes, prepares himself for the mockery and the taunting and to turn around and see someone whose face he doesn’t know. He takes a few deep breaths, slow inhalations to calm himself, and then he turns around and opens his eyes.

It’s Jongin.

‘You didn’t have to wait,’ says Jongin, half smile settling on his lips. Kyungsoo’s almost gawking at him now, jaw dropped open, and he can’t believe it. It’s actually Jongin - tall, lean muscled Jongin, dark brown eyes and kind smile Jongin, and Kyungsoo can’t seem to stop himself from throwing his arms around Jongin’s neck, tiptoeing and tilting his head up to kiss his boyfriend, and tears spring into his eyes when he realises how much he missed the taste of Jongin’s lips, the taste of his love.

Kyungsoo pulls away to come face to face with a grinning Jongin, the latter’s arms untangling from his waist.

‘Wow,’ says Jongin, sounding slightly breathless. ‘What was that for?’

‘Nothing,’ says Kyungsoo, and he can’t pry the smile off his lips now. ‘I just… Felt like kissing you,’ he finishes.

Jongin his lips. ‘I can dig that,’ he says, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. For someone incredibly hot, Jongin had the tendency to be incredibly lame, sometimes. ‘You didn’t have to wait for me, by the way,’ he says again, but Kyungsoo just dismisses him.

‘I couldn’t wait to see you,’ he finds himself saying, and it doesn’t even feel as though he’s saying those words himself - it feels instead as if he were just hitting play on a track that’s been recorded some time ago.

Jongin’s smile grows a little shier, and he laces his fingers with Kyungsoo’s. ‘Me too,’ he says, softly, and he lets his forefinger trace a line down Kyungsoo’s nose, stopping at his cupid’s bow before he cups Kyungsoo’s cheek in his hand.

‘You said you had something to tell me, remember?’ prompts Kyungsoo, and he revels in the way Jongin’s cheeks begin to grow a darker red. It’s adorable, he thinks, how flustered Jongin gets around him sometimes.

‘Yeah, I do,’ says Jongin, and he begins to walk, tugs Kyungsoo along with him until they fall into step with each other. ‘But I think it can wait until after we get some food. What do you say, Soo?’

Kyungsoo just smiles and nods, leans against Jongin as they walk. It’s a beautiful day, he thinks, and things are going right, and, for the first time in a while, he’s genuinely happy to see Jongin again. He’s happy to be sharing conversations with him, happy to be hearing his voice, happy to be touching him, to just be with him.

They come up to a cafe Kyungsoo remembers going to a lot back when he was in high school, and Jongin lets go of his hand and steps forward.

Jongin holds the door open for him, and Kyungsoo can see that his hands are shaking, just the tiniest bit.

Something flickers in the back of Kyungsoo’s mind, and he can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when he finds he knows why.

17th June 2011, Kyungsoo remembers, now - is the first time Jongin told him he loved him.


 

His sneakers press almost silent against the cold tiled floor, the temperature of the whole place making him bury his hands in his jeans pocket. The man that’s with him walks with purpose, clipboard gripped firmly in one hand as the other fists at his side. On his name tag, there’s a neat row of syllables engraving his name - Doctor Kim Junmyeon. His steps are steadier than the visitors, but then, this was his place of work.

Asylums - mental health centres, he reminds himself sternly - begin to lose their lustre when you work there every day.

Junmyeon and the visitor stop in front of a door, one that’s labelled 1209. There’s a window right next to it, one that’s tinted so the resident of the room can’t see outside but the outside can see in, and Junmyeon gestures at the patient inside.

‘Here we are, Mr - I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name,’ says Junmyeon, trying his best to feign attentiveness. He’s tired, he’s been on two consecutive shifts and he really just wants to gohome. He still didn’t understand why some other staff member couldn’t have brought this visitor in, he’s a doctor, after all. Still, he fixes the man with a smile, and hopes it comes out looking sincere enough.

‘Kim Jo - just Kim is fine,’ says the man, and Junmyeon nods. As tired as he is, he can’t help but admire how good looking the man is - all tall, lean muscle, dyed chocolate brown hair, chiseled jaw and sun-kissed skin.

‘Well, here we have him - patient #2196, severe schizophrenia. He’s been showing little to no signs of improvement.’ Junmyeon flips through a couple more pages, lets his eyes scan through the details of his file and frowns. ‘Says here that he’s been screaming for a man named Jongin. Keeps telling him to leave him alone,’ Junmyeon looks up at the visitor, skin between his brows still bunched up in thought. ‘Do you have any idea who that might be?’

The visitor just shakes his head. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, hand coming up to press against cold glass. ‘Don’t know who that is.’

‘Shame,’ says Junmyeon, tearing his eyes away from the handsome visitor to look at his patient, arms folding across his chest. ‘Kyungsoo’s so young, I hate to think how much of his life he’s missing out on because he’s in here.’

The visitor nods in agreement, eyes still fixated on the boy that’s seated alone in a sterile white room, fingers clutching a pen as he writes and writes and writes, words becoming disjointed as he watches. Kyungsoo eventually gives up, frustration making him throw his pen at the wall, chest heaving when it breaks into pieces.

He walks right up to the window and practically presses his face against it, tries desperately to see things he just can’t. ‘Junmyeon,’ says Kyungsoo, dissatisfaction clear in his voice. ‘Junmyeon - I need a new pen. This one broke on me.’

The visitor is silent for a while, eyes fixated on Kyungsoo. And then he reaches out, and with one finger, draws a line down the bridge of Kyungsoo’s nose, stops at his cupid’s bow and presses his palm flat against the glass that’s just stopping him from caressing the patient’s cheek.

‘I miss you,’ says the visitor, in a whisper so low even Junmyeon doesn’t hear. ‘Do you hear me? Kyungsoo - it’s me, Jongin. I miss you. So much,’ he whispers, soft and low, and he presses his lips together when he feels the tears begin to well up in his eyes.

Junmyeon lets out a huff, reaches into his pocket and brings out a pen. ‘Looks like I’ll have to hand this over,’ he says, grimacing. He’s about to unlock the door when he stops short, seems to remember that he has company. He looks at Jongin.

‘Do you want to go in and talk to him?’ asks Junmyeon, somewhat cautiously. It’s against policy for him to let visitors actually talk to the patient without clearance, but he’d seen the guy’s reaction when he saw Kyungsoo - he obviously meant something to the stranger.

But Jongin just shakes his head, smiles sadly and says ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s just...’ Jongin takes a deep breath, lets it all come out in a heavy sigh before he looks at Junmyeon with an ocean of sadness lying just behind his irises.

‘It’s just better if I don’t see him,’ he says, and because Junmyeon looks like he’s about to protest, Jongin takes his leave, thanks the good doctor for his time and goes.

He takes one last look over his shoulder as he waits for the elevator to come up, longing embedded in the way he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and struggles not to rush in with Junmyeon and hug Kyungsoo and kiss him again and again and remind the elder how much he loves him and how much he misses him -

But the elevator doesn’t take as long as he’d like, and it arrives before he has time to finish his thoughts.

He sighs.

It’s for the best, he thinks, as he gets into the elevator and allows himself one last look at the twelfth floor as the doors close. He can’t see Kyungsoo, can’t make it that much harder for him to get better again. He loves Kyungsoo - and, he knows, to love is to wish the best for the other person, and to hope they live healthy and happy lives, with or without you next to them.

So when he leaves that day, he makes himself a promise - it’s one he knows is going to be hell to keep, one he knows he’ll probably regret within the next five minutes - but it’s also a perfectly reasonable promise, and, he thinks, it’s the best for Kyungsoo.

Jongin takes another deep breath as he steps out of the building, presses his lips together and keeps going without looking back, not even once.

He never comes back.




Author’s Note: Firstly, I just wanted to say I’m so happy to have been part of this little challenge! I may have taken the ~challenge~ bit a bit too seriously, though, and chose to write something I’ve never really written before. Apologies in advance for inaccuracies, mild headaches, and slight chest pains. To the rest of the kyungsooperior crew: we did it! Special thanks to our lord onyu, without whom I would have. Been lost. Super extra thanks to my lovely goblin coppertears, who held my hand and helped me deal with this whole… Thing.

This was pretty hard to write... I mean... Challenging.... And... I was kind of.... Pressed for time... and... idk I'm just really tired haha

I love you all. :)