Jinyoung kneels by the edge of the forest.

His lips are chapped from thirst- hands half occupied by the razor in his hands and the rope in the other. He makes quick work of the trap, over, under, loosening the knots, careful not to snap the twine. They need this rope- the razor’s there for another reason.

A crack from behind makes him whip around, but it’s only a large lizard, scuttling away in fear.

The trap’s finally done- he hooks the dead animal up, throat slit and hanging from his hands in a boneless heap, before backing into the forest, razor still at the ready.

He treads quietly but quickly, darting down a familiar path, watching for the telltale sign that’ll tell him when to turn. It’s only after ten minutes of running that he realises something’s wrong.

Blood pounds in his ears, louder than it had when he was running. The leaves are different, branches snapped and dangling at unnatural angles, the obvious signs of tank tracks on the floor, like something had come in here and mowed down everything in its path.

He would’ve heard it. He should’ve.

Jinyoung takes off at a sprint, still clutching to his razor like it’s a lifeline, glancing wildly this way and that, trying to remember the way back now that everything’s changed.

Nothing’s happened, Jinyoung tries to tell himself. He would’ve heard something- a yell, gunfire, if anything had happened to Jackson.

(The same way he should’ve heard the tank coming in the first place.)

Speaking of tanks, however-...

Jinyoung crouches instinctively, breathing hard, pressing himself into a hollow in a cluster of trees, listening closely to the indistinct rumble of the motor some distance away. He can’t tell where it is yet, and if he can’t, that means Jackson won’t be able to, as well.

Anxiety creeps up on him like poison ivy, constricting his lungs, his airways, and he’s hiding like a frightened animal, fighting the primal flight instinct which he knows will get him killed.

It’s getting louder- or maybe that’s just the fear roaring in his head, heartbeat accelerating, razor held tight to his chest. Wild, vivid images of running, of faceless monsters and cold steel and glass make it worse. He can’t breathe, now, sure that any inhalation will alert them to his presence.

Then something cracks again behind him.

Jinyoung almost screams- almost, because a familiar hand wraps around his mouth, drawing him close, and he finally drops the razor.

“, I thought they got you,” Jackson’s shaking, fingers wound tight into Jinyoung’s shirt, and the younger man hugs him tight, letting out a long, trembling breath.

“We have to go, right?” Jinyoung whispers, taking the sight of the other man in properly, the makeshift backpack on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Jackson crumples. “Sorry I couldn’t save everything.”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung grips his hand tightly, their fingers intertwining naturally. “As long as you’re here.”

Jackson looks regretful as he glances back with a sad sort of wistfulness, in the direction of the monotone groan of machinery and breaking foliage.

“Again?”

They get up, Jinyoung grabbing his razor, feeling that same tug in his chest every time this happens, but then he remembers the hand he’s holding, feels the pulse racing through its veins, and the ache dulls.

“Again,” he murmurs, catching Jackson’s cheek in a kiss, before they’re off, unseen and unheard, but together, and that’s all that matters.

~~

9:00 PM - Stores close down.

10:00 PM - All cable networks end for the night.

11:00 PM - The warning bell strikes.

12:00 AM - All lights out.

It’s a clockwork, a rigid schedule to be kept to seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, every year. Jinyoung’s never been one to take risks, so even before the start of everything, he’d be in bed and fast asleep by the time the final lights-out arrived.

And now...well, he just doesn’t have the luxury to take any more risks than the ones he was already taking.

So when a hand is suddenly clapped over his mouth, startling him awake at 3:00 AM, Jinyoung nearly screams, and only manages to hold back by mercilessly biting the inside of his own cheek.

It takes a few moments for his heart to calm and for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but the effects of the adrenaline rush last for much longer. Once he finally manages to relax his body, the hand covering his mouth moves away, replaced by coaxing yet insistent lips instead.

Jinyoung indulges the other (and himself) for only a few moments before pushing away, elbow coming up to jab sharply at what he hopes is the other man’s stomach because he really can’t see much in the dark.

“Ouch! What was that for?” The words are whispered but the injured intonation is all too audible.

“Jackson! Do you know how dangerous it is for you to be here? What if you get caught?!”

Bright eyes gleam back at him in the darkness as a warm hand slides up against the back of his neck.

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

~~

The probability of getting sick at some point in your life in the Settlement is 10%. They’re still working on cutting that number down.

The chances of dying a premature death in the Settlement is 2%.

The percentage of the population living in poverty? 0%.

Just some cold hard facts, stats that are released to the public every year to update on the tremendous progress of society. Quite impressive, clearly.

Now for some classified information.

There’s no accurate data on this, but it is estimated that on average, there’s a 5% chance that someone will forget to take their Suppressants at some point in their life. Not the most desirable percentage, but considering this is over a person’s entire lifespan, it’s pretty damn good. The Board is pretty pleased by this number. Once was never enough for a person to exhibit any major deviations from expected behavior.

But if we’re to examine one specific incident, the odds might be incalculable.

After all, what were the chances that two people would forget to take their Suppressants on the same day, accidentally make physical contact with each other, and fall in love?

If the Board had been asked such a question, they most likely would’ve scoffed.

But sometimes, sheer probability trumps plausibility.

~~

Ding Ding Ding!

Jinyoung is at the door in an instant, trying to keep his neutral face intact when all he wants to do is smile in anticipation. The door swings open to reveal a similarly stiff face, though Jackson looks almost pained by how much effort it’s taking him to hold back his excitement.

“Here’s your mail, sir! You’ve also got a pretty large package here, too.”

“Thank you!” Jinyoung carefully takes the stack of envelopes from Jackson’s hand, their white gloves brushing for only an instant. “Actually, do you think you could help me carry the package in? I believe it’s the new shelf I ordered, and to be honest I’m not quite sure how to set it up.”

Jinyoung almost barfs from how fake his words sound, but it’s a necessity, even if it looks like no one is around them. Homes are safe inside, supposedly, but in any public space, you could never be sure anymore.

“Oh really?” The forced concern in Jackson’s voice also makes Jinyoung want to hurl, so he just nods. “You’re actually my last stop today, and I have some experience setting up shelves. I could assist you, if you’d like?”

“Really?!” Jinyoung thinks he went a little overboard with his gushing gratitude, but he’s beyond caring at this point. “That would be great! Here, come inside.”

They each grab a side of the box, lifting it between the two of them quite easily. They step inside, and Jinyoung swiftly kicks the door shut.

Almost immediately, he’s being tackled into a hug, the breath leaving his lungs in a short laugh as he tries not to fall backwards, his arms coming up to wrap around an all too familiar figure.

Jackson is laughing quietly as well and for a moment they just stand there, reveling in the warmth of another body.

“Damn I wish I could do this whenever I wanted. Do you know how hard it is to hold myself back from kissing you the second you open the door?” Jackson’s voice is rough around the edges as he talks into Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“Oh trust me, I know,” Jinyoung says back without missing a bit, but his ears flush a bit from embarrassment regardless.

“So,” Jackson’s eyes are filled with mischief when they finally separate, hands interlocked, gloves long discarded somewhere along the way because every second they can be touching skin to skin is a second that shouldn’t be wasted, “How long do you think it takes to set up a shelf?”

“Hopefully long enough,” Jinyoung just manages to breathe back before Jackson has him pressed up against the door, kissing him like their time was already running out.

They both knew it was.

~~

In the Board’s defense, maybe it hadn’t all been sheer dumb luck.

Jinyoung’s job is an archivist. In the beginning, when he was first assigned this position, he really had no clue what that word meant. Archivist. All he’d been told was that he’d be weeding through books, and that was that.

Jinyoung does a good job. Or rather, did a good job. He still disposes of all the books that contain any of the forbidden words (including love, lust, among many others), but his diligence towards the Settlement all changed when he found himself actually reading one of the books one day.

Reading the books was strictly forbidden, of course. Jinyoung still wasn’t sure what had possessed him that day to do so. But one thing led to another, until Jinyoung conveniently “forgot” to take his Suppressants one day.

(It was the day he learned the true definition of “archivist,” and realized he was the exact opposite.)  

That was also the day a particular mailman tripped over his carpet and fell right on top of him, unwittingly breaking the second most important rule of no physical contact.

They’d both been distraught at the time, terrified of the unforgivable transgression they’d just committed.

And now here they were in the present, breaking the most important rule of all without a single regret.

~~

“Jackson, you’re such a puppy.”

“A what?” Jackson looks up at Jinyoung in confusion from where he’s currently sprawled out on the carpet, his head resting in Jinyoung lap.

“A puppy. It was in one of the books I read.”

Jackson peers up at Jinyoung’s grin suspiciously.

“Is that a good comparison or a bad one?”

“A good one!” Jinyoung says immediately, but Jackson’s eyes are still narrowed. “There was a picture too, and it was so cute! I can’t show you though, it didn’t meet the guidelines so I had to get rid of it…”

Jinyoung’s voice trails off at the end and Jackson immediately sits up, reaching out one hand to cradle his face and the other instinctively seeking out his hand.

“Hey, there’s nothing we can do about it, not when we’re already in danger of being caught. At least you get to read them all first?”

Jinyoung nods, and a small smile forms when Jackson gets to be eye-level with him.

“And I guess I’ve got my own Wang puppy here too, so it’ll be fine!”

With that, Jinyoung ruffles Jackson’s hair, earning a half-hearted protest in response.

“Yah, Park Jinyoung!”

~~

There was nothing spectacular about the fateful day Jackson forgot to take his Suppressants.

He’d been a bit under the weather so he’d slept through his alarm, and in his haste to not be late for work he honest to god just forgot to take them.

Something Jackson will never forget, though, is the amount of feeling  he felt in that one singular moment, when he ran into a warmth that he’d never ever felt before in his entire life.

And those brown eyes. God, those eyes.

~~

“Do you ever wonder if -”

“Jackson.”

“...Still. Don’t you ever just think, maybe, if we -”

“No. Jackson, please.”

“But why not, Jinyoung? Why not?”

“.......”

“Jinyoungie~”

“Gross get off of me you idiot!”

“Then answer!”

“I just…I don’t want to hope.”

“Why?”

“Hope is dangerous. Dreams are dangerous. It’s not just what the Board wants us to think. All the books say the same thing, too.”

“Are you sure? Because you say the books say a lot of different things.”

“...I don’t know, Jackson, I don’t know.”

“Jinyoung, I think about it. All the time. About what it’d be like if I could love you freely.”

“....I do too.”

~~

There’s no prison system in the Settlement. There’s no police force, either, just regular government officials.

There aren’t any written punishments, because hell, there aren’t even any laws. All the rules are unwritten, so ingrained in the system that no one ever even has the thought to question them.

You wouldn’t question something as obvious as the sky being blue, would you?

That doesn’t stop the rumors, though. Rumors that are whispered in private rooms and constantly occupying the dark corners of people’s minds.

Rumors about what happens to those who don’t comply.

None of them have been ascertained by eyewitnesses, and besides it’s not like anyone knows of someone who’s broken any rules.

But still.

Let’s just say the rumors are… quite unpleasant. Every single last one of them.

And rumors have to have started from somewhere, right?

~~

Jinyoung’s lungs are on fire, and if he’d been alone he surely would’ve collapsed by now. But Jackson is ahead, it seems like Jackson is always ahead, dragging him forwards by the hand and goddammit Jinyoung’s always been kind of a coward but he’s not going to give up before Jackson. Not this time.

They found out. Of course they found out.

And now, they’re both just running, running, legs pumping chests heaving sweat dripping and Jinyoung feels like he could die because he can’t keep this up much longer.

They’re near the edge of the Settlement. Jinyoung only knows this because Jackson told him so, yelling at him over his shoulder that they were almost there and for him to just hang on.

There are trees, rocks, leaves, things Jinyoung’s only ever before seen in books. Jinyoung guesses Jackson only knows where they are because he’s a postman, and has travelled throughout the Settlement for his job. Jinyoung rarely leaves his house.

Except, if they’re really on the edge of the Settlement, and the woods around them convinces Jinyoung they really are, then Jackson seems to be too confident in where he’s leading them. He’s unfaltering, there’s no confusion, and it seems to be more than coincidence that the officials can’t chase them with their cars with how narrowly the trees are spaced.

It’s the only reason why they’ve made it so far.

It’s now that Jinyoung realizes that Jackson must’ve been planning this, that not only had he thought about the possibilities, but he’d acted on them.

Jinyoung thinks he should be offended that Jackson didn’t tell him, but when he thinks back to how he responded to Jackson’s questions each time, he only feels embarrassed.

He grips Jackson’s hand tighter, and finds it in him to manage one last burst of speed to catch up.

Jackson’s head whips around to look at him, surprised when Jinyoung is now beside him. Jinyoung tries to flash him a reassuring smile, to tell him he's sorry for being such a wimp and that he gets it, but he's pretty sure all he manages to do is grimace.

It doesn't matter though, because Jackson's face splits into a grin wide enough for the both of them.

“When I count to three, jump, okay?”

Jackson has to almost yell in order to be heard, and for a second Jinyoung's heart seizes with terror, but then the moment passes.

“Okay.”

~~

One.

Two.

Three.

~~

They walk for days.

It’d been the water they’d run out of first, then the food, then Jackson had been bitten by something venomous, causing his wrist to balloon painfully. Then the fever had struck, then the semi-paralysis, then the hallucinations.

They’re surrounded by bright greens and berries, all of which Jinyoung doesn’t dare to touch because he can’t tell which ones are poisonous and which ones aren’t. He doesn’t have the strength to hunt and he can’t leave Jackson to find water, in case the other man wanders off.

Jinyoung huddles close, shivering weakly in the strong wind. The razor’s still in his hands. If only he were brave enough, he just might be able to-...

Jackson mumbles indistinctly, burying his face in Jinyoung’s bony shoulder, his own cheeks hollow and dusted with grime, and the younger man wants to cry, but he can’t, because his tear ducts are dry.

The dying sun paints the sky beautiful shades of orange and purple, and Jinyoung lays them both down, taking long, deep breaths. Maybe it’ll rain. Maybe an animal will be curious enough to wander close. Maybe it’ll be okay.

Maybe they won’t wake up.

Holding Jackson as tight as he can, Jinyoung closes his eyes.

*

“They’re dehydrated. That one’s been bitten- looks like the usual bug.”

“You’ve got the medicinal leaves for that, right, hyung? We can help them.”

Jinyoung cracks open an eye, blinking. It’s dark, but there’s a soft orange light hanging above them.

Them.

Jackson.

“Help,” Jinyoung croaks, reaching out, and immediately, the tall boy who’d been talking about the leaves is pulled back by another man, who stares Jinyoung down threateningly, daring him to get up and attack. “Jackson.”

“Where are you from?” The man staring down at him asks, and something in his voice tells Jinyoung he’s the leader- maybe it’s the way the rest are looking to him for direction.

“Help,” Jinyoung repeats faintly, feeling for Jackson’s hand, and one of them, standing at the fringe of the group, wavers.

“Hyung, I have the medicine-...” he hesitates, taking out a bundle of dried leaves. “We should help.”

Jinyoung struggles, exhaling shakily. “Please.”

The leader’s mouth thins into a line. “Youngjae, administer the medicine, Gyeom, Bam, give them both water, but Mark, keep an eye on both of them.”

Jinyoung breathes out a shaky “thank you”, as the tall boy hurries over to help him into a sitting position- the water tastes like heaven against his lips, and he drinks gratefully, choking a little in his haste.

“Hey? Your friend’s going to be okay,” Youngjae, if that’s his name, looks over to give him a reassuring smile, and Jinyoung’s heart leaps, lungs squeezing out a shaky sob.

“Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” the leader gets down to eye level with Jinyoung, watching him carefully. “My name’s Im Jaebum, and you’re going to tell me exactly who you are and why you’re here.”

“I’m Park Jinyoung, he’s Jackson Wang,” Jinyoung replies, struggling for a moment to remember. “We’re running- we came from the Settlement.”

The quiet redhead standing above them mumbles something. “Just like us, Jaebum.”

Jaebum scowls, and the bright-eyed boy giving Jackson water looks over hopefully. “Hyung, can they stay?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widen- he can’t believe what he’s hearing, this is more than he could ever have hoped for.

“Bam, we can’t-...”

“Jackson-...that’s his name, right?” Youngjae says quickly. “He looked like he was strong once. Hyung, can they join us?”

“Jae, you’re not helping,” Jaebum interjects.

“I think they’ll be helpful,” the tall one who’d given Jinyoung water is looking down at him with innocent curiosity, noting his clothes and his hair. “Hyung, can we?”

Jaebum looks weary from this resistance, something Jinyoung will eventually come to realise happens very often. He sighs.

“As long as they pull their own weight once they’re better,” he grumbles. “Fine.”

Jinyoung reaches for Jackson’s hand as the two boys nearest to them cheer at this, fingers wrapping tight around it, noting that the swelling on his other wrist is already beginning to look better.

He knows with certainty that they’re in the clear, then, when Jackson squeezes back weakly, eyes still closed.

Again, they get up, and they move on, and again, they do it together.

But this time, Jinyoung knows, arm draped over the redhead- Mark’s, shoulder, as he stumbles on, Jaebum ahead, Jackson helped along by the two talkative boys, they’re going to make it.

As long as they’re together, Jinyoung can do anything.