johnny x jaehyun; superpower au.
note: jaehyun is a psychic and can communicate telepathically but also put things into other people’s heads like dreams or thoughts. johnny can bend light and shadows.
long story short, the plot is that johnjae live in s. Korea where “mutants” are considered dangerous and so the govt hunts down people who have powers. johnjae were previously college students who were outed and have been basically on the run for months. yeah.
this is for my bubs @eboyuto
> you can now read this on ao3.
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Each moment apart felt like death. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Jaehyun would come back to him or if the demons they were running from would finally catch up. Snatch him when Johnny turns the other way.
Apart of him wonders if Jaehyun worried for him in the same ways he feared their separation. If his panicked thoughts had reached Jaehyun, in the moment, he found himself being battered to the ground while men in military gear surrounded him.
He should’ve blinded them, should’ve created a cloud of darkness to blackout their vision so that he could flee to the closest alleyway. Yet, Johnny laid there as they forced him down, shouting out that he was a danger, a threat. He lay there while they battered him with their batons and kicked at him with their heavy boots. He doesn’t recall how many times he pleaded for Jaehyun to just run, to get as far away, and to keep going.
Seventy-four days since they stripped him, battered him, hosed him down, and shouted him into silence.
Seventy-four days since he’d seen Jaehyun. Since he’d seen anyone else, besides the guard standing watch near the door to his prison. The walls reinforced with a material that kept him from even trying to use his abilities.
He tried that on day 11, yet the small disk that had been lodged into the base of his neck stunned him until his legs gave out. The guards were stepping in and beating him until his grey t-shirt was stained with blood.
Johnny fell complacent in the 63 days following, staying silent while his eyes observed. Even when they’d set him across from someone who had been following him and Jaehyun every step of the way. From Seoul to Ilsan to Daegu to Busan to Naju.
They’d rattle on and on about how Jaehyun was a ghost in the water, and no one knew where he was. Yet, they always made sure to remark about how he’d come up eventually, whether it was dead or alive.
“Tell us, Youngho, where would he go? What were your plans after Naju?” It was the same question every single day.
It was in the silence of his room, where Johnny would tug up the thin, worthless excuse of a blanket over him. Muttering out the quietest prayers that Jaehyun escaped the country, that he found a safe haven away from this country where mutants were forbidden. Public safety hazards.
By day 243, they no longer saw him as useful for any information. 8 months without any sightings of Jung Yoonho (also known as Jaehyun) in any part of South Korea. They were spending money elsewhere on other mutants. To them, Jaehyun was just another casualty to their fight for getting rid of any carriers with superpowers.
For Johnny, it was eight months of longing, whether it was the night he’d awake after dreaming about Jaehyun being gunned down alone. There had never been any murmurs from his psychic boyfriend, no inklings of his whereabouts.
It took them days after that before they realized Johnny wasn’t a threat. He barely spoke, only ate their minimal rations, and the only time he acted out was when the memories hit him like a brick, and he yearned to tell Jaehyun it was going to be okay while Johnny’s nightmares caused him to wake up sobbing.
They allowed him three hours of monitored time in the general areas with other prisoners, still locked away in another larger room but with various tables and chairs with books and even some old movies.
He found himself looking forward to those three hours of recreational time.
On day 742, Johnny no longer remembered what Jaehyun looked like. He barely recalls the way his hands felt when he’d take his hand in his, nor does he remember what his favorite things were.
Memories were so fragile and elusive that they escaped him in two years; while they held him as their prisoner. There was no longer a reason for him to stay silent. His complacency fell away, and he acted out more and more with each day that passed.
“I have nothing left to give you, please, let me go,” he begged.
It scared him how fast he’d forgotten the things that came before. An unease filled his gut because he knows that there was something before this place, yet he can’t seem to recall.
And maybe, as if to bring him comfort, that night, Johnny dreamed of a small wooden cabin. Crops surround it. He was nearing this tiny house, overlooking the water. Two dogs were running around out on the gravel road, chasing each other with fervor, darting towards him with loud barks as soon as they see him.
A voice calls from a distance for the dogs to settle, and Johnny only has to tilt his head up to look from where the dogs circle his feet.
‘Johnny! You made it.’ The sweet honey voice spoke, and a wave of comfort washed over him, ‘I’ve been waiting for so long.’
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