Four hundred and thirty two thousand seconds.

Description

In which Daehyun was just as afraid as Jongup, his breath lodged in his throat while it had been so easy to breath when his lips were sealed by those of the younger boy and now it was just so painful to force his voice out, shaping his shaky breaths into words he doesn't want to say because they would start it all, and if he said them he would soon find himself counting, one second, two seconds, four hundred and thirty two thousand seconds.

So I somehow wrote another DaeJong oneshot.

No fluff or this time, just angst with a bit of comfort, some smiles and a lot of sadness.

This otp is giving me feels.

/sobs

Foreword

Daehyun felt a heavy sigh leave his lips as he picked up the two empty cups, pulling the blanket over his shoulder before throwing a last glance around the winter garden, smiling. He looked outside through the windows, watching the faint traces of moon light illuminate the darkness after the sun had set hours ago.

(The last hours, his head reminded him, that small, sadistic part that liked to torture him with all these things he didn't want to think about, couldn't think about, never, because it hurt too much but his mind was still counting already, how much time was left until he hard to start the timer for four hundred and thirty two thousand seconds?)

Turning around he left the small cozy room, closing the door behind him and dumping the cups into the kitchen sink before making his way into the living room, neatly folding the blanket and dropping it over the arm rest of the couch, smoothing his hand over the fluffy, thick fabric.

"Dae."