⊹ tags; angst with happy ending, whump, existential crisis, suffering, mentions of wanting to die, being stuck in purgatory, salvation, fantasy setting
⊹ wc; 1.7k
⊹ lyrics;
I didn't know why
Why happiness was fleeting in my life
'Til you, my butterfly
I found you and you led me
To the light
Oblivious to things around me
It's only in your arms, I can see
That everything means
Nothing without you
Oh, they don't feel the things we're feeling
It's got us dancing on the ceiling
It's really not that hard for me
To choose
Because I
Wouldn't have it any other way
Oh-oh, any other way
When Seungmin wakes all is as always. The sand is stone-cold and hard beneath his body, the air unmoving and soundless — deafening, almost. And he himself is still breathing with his heart beating, but yet, not alive. Because who could consider the state he was in a life? If it was, certainly not one worth living.
Seungmin has been laying here, in the emptiness that slowly seeped into his heart, without being able to say how long for at this point. He doesn’t know when he has last eaten or quenched his thirst, or if he had such needs that ought to be satisfied in the first place. But since he knows of them — thirst, hunger, desire, a will to live — there must have been a time like that. Many days must have passed since then. And if Seungmin had been counting at all, he has long lost sight of the number. Time feels permanent in this place, opening a space for questions that won’t find answers, so Seungmin has long stopped asking.
In the waste of this land where nothing is worthwhile, where no living thing is around, where it’s just stones and sand and coldness that burns hot in the night. Where there is nothing for Seungmin to do. Where he can’t even move from this spot, having long forfeited this pointless war against the forces that be who decided he shouldn’t be able to as much as lift a finger. He was damned.
In the beginning Seungmin thought there must be a reason for him to be here, a purpose, a hint of something that at least whispered a breath of meaning into his existence. But as he watched the sun glare down at him as it traveled along the horizon with no warmth in its rays with every passing day his resolve regressed. Now he knows, he was only left here to suffer.
If this was hell, he wished he could just die again. Maybe if he closed his eyes long enough and emptied his thoughts. If he stopped thinking, breathing, *being*, then maybe, *maybe* the force of nature that has been rubbing at his skin might finally wash him away.
So he closes his eyes and waits — for what he isn’t sure.
For a second? A minute? An hour? A day? A week? A month? A year?
Time works weirdly in this place.
Nothing happens. Nothing ever happens here.
But—
What was that?
Seungmin’s eyes reopen upon a weird but new sensation, one that he has not felt before, not the stark light nor the burning cold or the rigidness of the sand, brushes by his ear. It’s the tiniest whiff of air hitting his skin, moving the molecules that stay rock still even with Seungmin breathing.
There is a flutter in the corner of Seungmin’s eye. He blinks. If he could, Seungmin would lift his head and look around, but his limbs are just so stiff and heavy. He wants to know what is causing a ripple in this world that has been standing still for so long.
And then he sees it, the little thing, gliding through the air until it lands square on the bridge of Seungmin’s nose. He goes cross-eyed with pupils blown wide as he watches the butterfly kiss his nose. Seungmin is astounded. How is this possible? A living thing in this dead place where nothing is supposed to live and grow to be beautiful and everything gets reduced to sand and dust eventually — like he had hoped he would soon, too.
The butterfly only lingers for a brief moment of time before it lifts into the air again and starts to fly away. Upon the realization that Seungmin was soon to lose the only worthwhile thing that has come to him after all this monotonous stillness that stays ever the same, something stirs in him, deep inside.
The gears in his mind start to rattle forth and forth, faster and faster until his fingers twitch and his joints crack. The further away the butterfly goes the more desperate Seungmin becomes, he uses his brute mental force to get his muscles — heavy like stones — to move and before he knows it, he is holding himself upright, swaying on the sand. He then goes to command his body to walk, his steps leaden and unsteady, but he is moving — moving alas, towards his fleeting happiness.
Seungmin staggers after the butterfly helplessly with his vision swimming away from him and his head spinning. It’s hard to keep track of its colorful flicker through the pure mental struggle that is necessary to keep his body afloat, but nevertheless he doesn’t allow the butterfly to ever leave his field of vision. He can’t afford to lose *this* too.
The butterfly flitters and flutters and Seungmin stumbles and bumbles, drawing in closer and closer until the butterfly is almost an arm’s reach away. Just a few more steps, just a little more and happiness shall be his own again. He is so, so close now.
In an act of despair and misjudgment Seungmin lunges forward in a desperate attempt to catch the butterfly. Before he knows it, he is falling and rolling down one of the sand dunes, his world turning round and round and upside down. When he comes to a halt, dusted and ditched like an overripe fruit fallen to the ground and left to rot, he spots the butterfly again immediately. It’s trailing after him, then passes on top of him and Seungmin watches its airy dance with amazement.
When it then goes to pass above his head and Seungmin is yet again in danger of losing sight of the beautiful butterfly and craning his neck isn’t enough anymore to keep track, he gathers his last set of strength to roll onto his back. Only then does he notice they have reached a clearance and Seungmin is met with an even more incredible sight displayed in front of him and the butterfly right in the center.
In the middle of it there is shimmering blue and emerald green with spots of purples, reds, and yellows, shining in stark contrast to the greyish sand beneath him. Now an overwhelming sense of thirst washes over Seungmin, the feeling is unfamiliar and new. His mouth feels as dry as parchment paper it’s as if death is clawing down his throat. Having fallen down and being unable to muster up the strength to get up again and walk, he can only stay on the ground and crawl, following the butterfly fluttering away toward the oasis — into paradise.
In that moment it feels like as if salvation is almost so near he can taste it and yet so so so far away. Even though his arms are shaking like leaves in the wind, his legs feel numb, heavy, and lifeless, like dead weight dragging at the end of his body, Seungmin doesn’t want to give up. He moves on. He wants to reach. He wants to drink. He wants to feel alive again. The butterfly made it so.
He meets the little thing by the shore after what feels like an eternity and Seungmin doesn’t waste a second then. The moment he finally, *finally* reaches the water, he lowers his head and drinks from it until his belly is bursting. He drinks and drinks and drinks until his insides are gurgling and he feels sick to the stomach and *yet* his thirst isn’t quenched the slightest bit.
Seungmin wonders, why this all still feels so unsatisfactory? Wasn’t this what he had wanted so desperately?
When he then turns to look for the beautiful butterfly, the ethereal being that saved his life, he is instead met with the sight of a globe of light radiating next to him — exactly where the butterfly had been. Inside of the burning hot rays he can make out a silhouette. The figure glows so bright, brighter than the luminous sun high up to the sky. Seungmin feels as though, he has been blinded by the flash of light but can’t seem to tear his gaze away.
“My brave soldier,” the figure says, voice ringing clear in Seungmin‘s ears. “Your suffering will end today. My hand is won. We may return home, soon to be wedded as it had been your last dying wish.”
The glow has started to dim now and Seungmin can make out some features of the figure going to kneel down next to him. A man with kind eyes and golden locks framing his otherworldly face. There is concern written all over his face and— *Are those shimmering crystals tears in his eyes?*
“My love, do you not remember?” The stranger suddenly sobs as he reaches out to touch Seungmin by the shoulder, making a zing of energy bolt through the whole of his body.
Then a dam breaks. The gates of unlocked memories fall down and flood Seungmin’s and then — then he remembers.
“Hyunjin! My Hyunjin!” Seungmin wails as tears begin to burst from his eyes, too. Like a well that has been run dry bubbling up with new water again. And Seungmin feels alive again.
Hyunjin moves to pull Seungmin’s frail body into his welcome and warm embrace, holding him close while rocking him back and forth and back and forth like a baby. There might be some truth to it since Seungmin feels as though he has been reborn. Breathing for the first time after coming from darkness into the light, weeping and crying, feeling as bare as a newborn, completely stripped off, when everything is new and fresh and intense and just too much.
This was just too much, but the tighter Hyunjin holds him the more memories return to Seungmin. Those of a life that had been, of love and struggles, of difficult decisions and promises. A life full of ups and downs, lefts and rights and every ugly emotion he felt in his life. And now that he remembers why he had been at this place, in this purgatory, and knows what it had been for, *who* it had been for. It all feels worthwhile.
And frankly, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
⊹ tags; acquaintances with benefits, ambiguous relationship, ambiguous/open ending, implied sexual content, longing, angst, hurt no comfort
⊹ wc; 0.6k
⊹ lyrics;
Want you to show me
Those subtle memories in your heart
Subtle memories
Want you to know me
(know about) Those painful memories in my heart
Painful memories
Jay is already used to it, the way it starts.
First, a timid knock against his door. Then, finding Sunghoon slouched down at the bottom of his doorstep, cheeks as red as his glazed eyes. It’s followed by monotonous acknowledgment, names falling off their lips — a woeful “Sunghoon” from Jay, a breathy “Jay” from Sunghoon in return.
“What are you doing here?” — a shrug.
“Did you drink again?” — a nod.
“Then go home.” — silence.
Lastly, when Jay turns to return back inside — a tug at the hem of his shorts.
It makes Jay heave a heavy sigh. This routine has become too predictable. He knows it’s no use to argue, knows that Sunghoon has a lengthy list of excuses ready on his tongue and Jay is too nice and too weak to resist anything Sunghoon says once they lock eyes again. At this point, Jay doesn’t even need Sunghoon to mutter the next words in the script: “Can I stay the night?” Jay has already given in to letting him in, to letting him use him once more.
Once Jay shuts the door behind them, it’s as if a spell befalls them. They turn from numb bodies that wander the streets of the living into Adam and Eve ready to bite from the forbidden fruit. Their veins thrumming with a sense of alive that they can’t experience anywhere else than here, in Jay’s ratty flat far beyond the magic hour.
Jay has Sunghoon against the door frame in seconds, huffing and puffing into Jay’s mouth, all desperate and grabby hands on his clothes. Soon enough they are skin on skin. Sunghoon’s body with all its scars and bumps feeling like a sculpted masterpiece under Jay’s hands. The noises he breathes into Jay’s ears a bewitching melody that keeps spurring him on. The way Sunghoon moves on top of him, making him run so hot he feels like he’s ready to burst, driving him closer to the edge. Once Jay has fully fallen, lays barren and crushed on the ground, he feels content, glowing with life. Unfortunately, he knows the effects won’t last too long. It’s what makes this arrangement dangerously addictive.
After they are done and Sunghoon has fallen asleep, Jay as always struggles to do the same. Instead, he watches as the stark city lights get softened by the sun rising. Next to him, Sunghoon lets out a whimper in his sleep and Jay catches a lonely tear dropping from his eyes. His fingers itch to reach out and wipe it away, but he can’t.
With morning breaking, their spell broke as well.
They are back to strangers.
Jay knows Sunghoon wouldn’t like it if he were to comfort him in such a caring way. A tiny part of Jay wishes he could comfort him beyond the short relief that can be felt between two hot entangled bodies hidden in the shadows of the night. But unfortunately, there isn’t anything Jay can offer to fill the gaping spot in Sunghoon’s chest. He doesn’t possess anything hot enough to reignite Sunghoon’s heart cold as stone with his own lost in the streets between the city’s waste.
So when Sunghoon wakes they don’t talk about it. Not about what is going on between them. Not what fucked up Sunghoon so much last night that he needed to seek comfort in Jay’s body, nor what made Jay so open to being used as rebound times and times again.
Sunghoon doesn’t linger long and gets ready to leave. When the door shuts behind him, Jay doesn’t know where he’s going, when or if he’s coming back at all. But something tells Jay, Sunghoon will be back sooner than later.
After all, aren’t the damned not the most desperate to get a taste of heaven?
Are you scared you started living too late?
That you should've been making better mistakes?
Are you scared you started living too late?
'Cause some days I wake up full of all this fear
Wishing that I was anywhere but here
I'm craving for the freezing cold of an ocean
To be somewhere lost in a moment
Out there on my own
“Yah! Manager Kim!” Minho drawls, pointing his empty shot glass towards the other. His colleague, Kim Seungmin immediately scrambles to grab the next open bottle of soju to refill Minho’s glass. But the moment Kim Seungmin starts to dip the bottle, Minho yanks away his glass.
“Team Leader-nim!” Kim Seungmin whines in protest, his pronunciation mushy.
Minho only continues to watch as the other almost crashes onto the table, startled by Minho’s rash movement, almost spilling the remains in the bottle while trying to steady himself. Kim Seungmin must have had his fair share of drinks tonight, it seems.
“Say,” Minho prompts. “Aren’t you tired?” He peers into the depth of his glass, twirling around the residue of the last shot he took, mindlessly.
“Of drinkin’? Not yet.” Kim Seungmin looks around for a bit, gaze flitting along the empty seats around them with most of their department already gone. “Is not time to go home yet,” he concludes. “Sunbae, let’s drink some more,” he raises the bottle back up in a new attempt to pour Minho another drink. “Until our worries wash away!”
“NO!” Minho puts a protective hand over his glass, shielding it.
“Why?” Kim Seungmin whines again with his cheeks red. Minho can’t tell if it’s due to anger or the alcohol.
“Aren’t you tired?” Minho repeats the same vague question from earlier. Because he is, so freaking tired of this.
“Of what?”
“Of this all,” Minho gestures around them. “This pointless job. This suffocating city. Reliving the same boring seven days every week. Pretending to be fine when you’re not. Settling for less than happiness.”
Manager Kim sets down the bottle.
“Because I am,” Minho says as he snatches the soju away in front of his colleague immediately.
He fills his glass hastily, to the brim, with a lot of spillage over the edges. He is bursting at his seams too. He knocks back the shot without hesitation, the alcohol at the back of his throat overshadowing the sting in his eyes.
“So fucking tired,” He hisses after, gulping down — the soju tastes especially bitter today.
“Then,” Kim Seungmin says after a long moment of silence as he meets Minho’s eye.
The fluorescent lights of this shabby barbecue place reflect in Kim Seungmin’s eyes. There is a dangerous glint twinkling in them. It’s unlike anything Minho has ever seen in his colleague, always ever so stoic, polite, and composed. It feels like a challenge, something in it makes Minho’s gut tingle in a way that it hasn’t in quite some time — was it anticipation? Excitement?
“What if we run away?”
—
Minho holds onto Seungmin’s hand tightly as he gets dragged towards the waves. The ocean breeze is strong, rustling their hair, leaving a sting in their eyes and on their cheeks, but Minho finds he doesn’t mind the sensation. He welcomes it in fact.
When Seungmin lets go of Minho’s hand to kick off his shoes and rip off his socks, Minho follows suit. He can barely keep up with the speed at which Seungmin rushes into the water. The only thing that overtones the adrenaline rushing through Minho’s ears is Seungmin’s laughter ringing in the air as he keeps splashing around himself, not minding getting them both wet from head to toe in the process.
The water is far from warm and Minho can feel his blood run cold. First in his toes, then his feet, up to his calves, and the wet spots in his clothes that cling to his remaining skin. But Minho doesn’t stop Seungmin, instead, he joins in. It’s childish, how they go at each other like little kids, but there is something cathartic about it — letting go.
After they have exhausted themselves, they crash into the sand, hands tightly clasped together. The sun is beginning to rise on the horizon, colouring the sky in various shades of blue, orange, and pink. The abundance of color tints Seungmin in a magical glow — skin radiant and brimming with life.
Seungmin turns to him then and there is something oddly enchanting about the look in his eyes. Seungmin had never been like that to Minho — attractive. He only ever had been Manager Kim, blending in with the masses, but now being right before him Minho becomes a moth drawn to a flame. And before he knows it, he can feel Seungmin’s burning hot lips against his own.
At first, it’s only a tentative brush, a ghost of a touch. But the contact is enough to set Minho’s whole being aflame. It ignites something deep in him, a feeling that he thought had long been lost and buried with all the other parts of himself that had run right through his fingers, slipping away.
The more Minho clings, grabs, tugs, gives, and takes the more solid the feeling becomes. The strumming of his heart doesn’t feel as suffocating anymore and the air getting sucked out of his lungs, the burn and ache that comes with it, he welcomes the sensation. When they part, work clothes not only wet but now also disheveled, despite being short of breath, Minho feels like he can finally breathe again.
As they face the ocean to watch the sun rise higher and higher Minho takes a moment to think to himself and comes to the conclusion he doesn’t care what will become of them once they sober up and return back to reality. For now, he chooses to live in the moment. This moment with Seungmin next to him. Not the Seungmin that walks into the office with tired eyes and types away on his computer with a blank expression day in and day out. No. But A Seungmin much more reminiscent of the Seungmin that had walked into his job interview with bright eyes and weightless smile all those years ago.
Back then Minho had thought he would be able to preserve it — Seungmin’s radiance, the spark in him, the optimism. But how could he possibly, when he hadn’t even been able to stop his own smile from fading in the mirror?
Ultimately, Minho hadn’t been able to stop Seungmin from walking down the same path as his own. But maybe now, they could travel this road together feeling a little less alone.
Minho peels himself off the ground and faces Seungmin, who is still sitting in the sand, once he’s up and standing. There is a feeling swelling in his chest, something that feels awfully close like hope.
“Time to go, Seungmin-ah,” Minho says wistfully, reaching out his hand for Seungmin to take with a pounding heart.
A moment passes between them with Seungmin staring into wide of the endless ocean. There is nothing here besides the washing of waves and brushing of the breeze. It’s as if time has frozen and Seungmin with it. He isn’t giving any signs that he considers moving soon and it makes Minho ponder for a moment if Seungmin is ready to take it — a leap of faith. But then his head turns, a gentle smile spreading on Seungmin’s face and then — he takes it, Minho’s hand.
And Minho decides then and there that he won’t let go as long as Seungmin lets him hold it.
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