Archive of Our Own

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During their early days at the Orphanage, when Changbin was only 5, and Chan was 7, the latter had completely taken Changbin under his wing. It wasn't that there were bullies that needed to be fended off, or even life lessons that the younger boy needed to be taught—he just did it.

Truthfully, Chan didn't even really mean to, so rather, one can say that it just happened. And soon enough, it also just happened that Changbin silently pledged to himself that he will follow Chan forever—even to the edges of the planet.

Fast forward years later, and this is precisely what Changbin is doing.

A Family is Three: this is one of the most basic tenets that Chan and Changbin grew up with. According to a long standing government decree, to have more than that—to have more than father, mother and child—and the extras automatically get sent to one of the handful of orphanages found at the edges of the city. There are no ifs or buts about it, that's just how it is, and how it has always been for as long as everybody remembers. No one questions the rule, and everyone simply follows.

When Orphans grow up, several of them are tasked to take over the orphanage that they grew up in, but most set off to work for the city while living around the outskirts. Named Families are entitled to frivolous and luxurious lives in the Inner City, but blue collar workers are needed to keep doing manual labor after all, if the Privileged desire to keep living their lives like they're accustomed to.

This is what Chan and Changbin imagined their life would eventually be like.

At 17, Chan started working part-time at the metalworks factory, and at 21 he's expected to do full ten hour shifts as a fully-functioning member of the workforce.

Except a month before Chan turns 21, his reality completely diverges from his expectations.

A Lawyer, dressed to the nines, arrives in the middle of the day at his workplace, and tells him a new truth: he is a real orphan—one in the absolute sense of the word. His parents had suffered an unfortunate and untimely passing when he was only a toddler, and in the process, Chan had been yanked away from his cozy and privileged life and put under the harsh care of the city. But this did not change the fact that he has always been Named; he unknowingly carried the lineage of his Family, and now that he’s of age, he’s allowed—no, expected to reclaim the life he had lost almost two decades ago.

“So I have a home?” He asks Lawyer Park, who had relayed the news to him in a very casual and unaffected manner.

“An estate, actually,” Lawyer Park clarifies. “And a family business to take over—the Bang family business.”

Chan blinks at him, at a loss for words.

“You just need to sign these papers, Mr. Bang” Lawyer Park continues, pushing a thick folder, presumably filled with all the appropriate paperwork, towards Chan, who is more preoccupied at how strange being called Mr. Bang is.

Christopher Bang.

That’s who he is, apparently—his birth name, according to the papers that Lawyer Park carry with him. He has a surname, and in effect, he carries a birthright.

“So I have a house in the Inner City, and money in a bank account I never knew about, and now I don't have to keep working at the factory?” Chan asks.

“Yes,” Lawyer Park answers, with an edge to his tone that more than hinted clear annoyance at Chan’s inability to move on to things the lawyer deemed important.

“So why am I only finding out now about this?” Chan asks.

“You were officially under city care until you turned of age,” Lawyer Park explains. “It's the law, it's just how things are supposed to be handled.”

Chan just blinks at him again.

He doesn’t move into the house that was supposedly once his family residence, nor does he take over the Bangs’ left-behind business. Instead, Chan takes some of his newly acquired money from the bank and buys himself an old, mostly beatdown pick-up truck.

Changbin had started an apprenticeship at Division 9’s auto shop, and his boss, Taecyeon, who had been an orphan at the same home that both Chan and Changbin had grown up in, was more than happy to let Chan have the truck at a pretty hefty discount.

He's packing his valuables (all of which pretty much fit inside a single backpack), when Changbin comes up to him.

“So, whatcha gonna do now, hyung?” He says it like a teasing barb, complete with a playful punch on Chan’s shoulder.

“I'm leaving,” Chan simply answers, zipping up his bag and placing it at the foot of his bed—easy access for when he leaves the next day. He grins at Changbin, dimples visible on his cheeks; despite the uncertainty he’s now feeling about his future, it's surprisingly easy to give Changbin a genuine smile.

“Leaving No. 3 to move into your fancy new house in the gated villages in the good part of town?” Changbin asks, and for now Chan chooses to ignore the slight hitch he notices in the younger male’s breath.

“Number 3” is the orphanage they grew up in. There are five altogether in the city—One and Five are for girls, Two and Four, for boys. Three is the smallest home, but it's also the only one that houses both male and female children.

“No, leaving the city in general,” Chan tells him calmly.

“Leaving me and Jisungie along with it?” Changbin prods, head tilted to the side as if daring Chan to deny his words; Chan can only flash another pearly white grin at him.

Jisung, one year younger than Changbin, had been transferred to Number 3 when he was only five, and Changbin, then 6 years old, and Chan, 8, had allowed him to stick to the two of them like glue.

“Jisung will be fine,” Chan points out as he zips up his bag. “He’s still got you.”

Changbin snorts. “He’s got Minho, you mean,” he retorts, and Chan could only laugh along. Jisung had met Minho, an orphan from Number 4, when he had turned 17 and he’d started working at the food factory—and he has been the star of every other one of Jisung’s stories from that day, moving forward.

“He’s got both of you then,” Chan clarifies.

“Where are you going?” Changbin prods.

“To the end of the world,” Chan says matter-of-factly.

Changbin clenches his jaw, and he looks like he's thinking of a witty remark but coming up short. In the end, he simply asks, “Can I go with you?”

The entire city is enclosed in a glass dome, and what lies outside the glass walls a complete mystery. There are rumors that there are other glass-covered cities, and maybe some of the higher-ups from the inner city would know, but as Orphans and outer perimeter dwellers, Chan and Changbin are both completely clueless.

“Once we leave we can never go back,” Changbin points out the obvious when Chan slows his car down a few meters away from the gates.

It’s another one of those unquestionable laws, and the reason why no one really knows what exists beyond their little bubble world.

Chan chuckles. “I'll park by the side of the road and let you get off if that's what you want,” he says, turning to look at Changbin, cocking his head as if it's a challenge.

Changbin grins at him widely in return. “Of course not. I'm going where you're going, hyung.”

Chan smiles back and steps on the accelerator. “Okay, there's no going back then.”

The first thing they notice once they're outside is that the sky looks bluer and brighter than ever, and the two suns seem just a smidgen closer than before.

“Funny though,” Changbin remarks. “It also feels somewhat cooler and breezier.”

“That's good because it means we don't need the A/C on,” Chan says, rolling down his window and motioning for Changbin to do the same. “We need to save up on gas. I have back-up portable fuel cells that will probably last us for a while, but we don't know where we’ll find the next gas station.” He pauses, and then he adds, “or if we’ll even find a gas station anywhere.”

Changbin nods at him. There’s something unreadable about his expression though, and it doesn’t help Chan curb his own weariness. The truth is, the craziness and severity of their travel arrangements are finally beginning to hit him, but when Changbin’s mouth curves into a trusting grin, he once again starts to feel more at ease.

“We'll be fine, hyung,” Changbin assures Chan. “We'll have the time of our lives.”

Chan snorts. “You're too fucking positive.”

“It's what I'm here for,” Changbin says with a wink.

Chan laughs and shakes his head because he can’t really deny the truth in the statement. “I guess that’s kind of right.”

There is only one road but it looks like it stretches on for miles and miles, if not forever. They follow it and get as far as they can for half a day without seeing anything but dirt and (mostly dry) grass. No one says anything disheartening—instead Changbin talks Chan’s ears off about the most mundane Orphan gossip he'd heard before they left.

“Jisung told me that Yuna told him—” Changbin begins, only to be immediately interrupted by Chan’s hearty laughter.

“What is this? Six degrees of rumor separation?” Chan jokes.

“Anyway—” Changbin chortles, shakes his head, and simply plows through what it is that he’s trying to say. “She told him she once caught Dowoon-hyung and Nayeon-noona together,” Changbin says. “Together, together. Hidden behind the laundry room of Three. Scandalous, right?”

“Why should it be?” Chan laughs. “I'm sure they were grown up enough to know what they were doing.”

Changbin wrinkles his nose. “Hyung, have you ever? Done that? With a girl?”

Chan snorts; Changbin has a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, and this is how Chan can tell he’s playing. “You're such a kid sometimes.”

Changbin huffs. “I'm two years younger than you, hyung,” he points out.

“And I don't kiss and tell,” Chan just says, grinning, because despite his coy answer, he’s armed with easily conjured up memories of back when he was teetering on the verge of adulthood. He was 15—maybe 16, not quite a child anymore, but before he was given his official work placement, and most of his free time was spent with Yerin in the laundry room of the orphanage. They were supposed to be doing chores—supposed to be washing clothes, and yet—they found themselves preoccupied with one another more than anything else.

To summarize: Chan has really nice memories of Yerin. But that’s all they are, because Yerin was always a complicated person, and when she left to move to her work dormitory, way across the city, hardly a goodbye was even said between the two of them.

Changbin seems to notice Chan briefly get lost in his own thoughts, but instead of calling him out, Changbin simply squints his eyes; there's a hint of suspicion in them, but soon enough he relaxes his gaze and opts to simply lean back in his seat and look out the window.

Chan assumes that’s it, the topic is dropped, but as soon as his own shoulders loosen up, Changbin pipes up once more, as if unable to contain himself. “With a boy, then?”

Chan half laughs, half almost chokes on his own spit. “I told you, I don’t kiss and tell!”

Changbin grunts in obvious disbelief.

“Have you ever?” Chan asks him, taunting, challenging. “I mean, at the very least have you ever kissed anyone?”

Changbin actually turns a light shade of pink which makes Chan laugh. “Never, huh?”

“Hyung, I’m 19!” Changbin scoffs; a beat passes, and he continues. “I was 16, and my first kiss was with Chaeyoung.”

Chan lifts an eyebrow, but he keeps his eyes on the road. He isn’t too surprised considering Chaeyoung grew up with them in Number Three, and despite the constant bickering between her and Changbin, there was also always a special kind of tension between them. Chan finds himself wondering if she and Changbin had a proper goodbye.

“It was weird though,” Changbin admits quietly. “Because... you know. There's a reason most Orphans don't grow up and have Families.”

“I know.” Chan nods with a soft sigh. “It's why most of the Orphan homes are gender-segregated.”

“You know, hyung, that makes sense. I never thought of it like that before,” Changbin says.

Chan bursts out laughing. “And here I was, thinking you'd formed some rare jewels of wisdom.”

Changbin makes soft, whiny noises that only serve to fuel Chan’s laughter. And then, out of the blue, Changbin interrupts with,

“I kissed Jisung too—a couple of times.”

At that, Chan chokes on his own shocked laughter, and he ends up sputtering and coughing to the point that he has to pull over so he could calm down. That, he certainly had not expected.

Changbin, even as he hands him a bottle of water while rubbing soothing circles on his back, has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the f—?”

Changbin shrugs. “He wanted to practice. He said he didn't want to kiss Minho without knowing what he’s doing.”

Chan snorts; that does sound like Jisung. Still, he's hit with a sudden realisation that his childhood friends had kept a few secrets from him. He shouldn't be affronted—and really, he isn’t, more just taken aback—after all, he hadn't been too forthcoming with them himself. He just figured that as the oldest, he was meant to shoulder his own burdens, and just show them his strong and sturdy side—they were meant to lean on him, and not the other way around.

And yet, Changbin’s presence in this little adventure—it's appreciated more than he can ever articulate.

“Anyway,” Changbin says, with a deliberately dramatic shudder. “Let's move on, because the memory of Jisung’s lips is gonna make me break out into hives. I'll tell you about something I heard from Yeonjun instead.”

Chan snorts, and simply hums as he braces himself for another story.

Their first night out, they end up spending in the car. Both suns seem to set later than they're accustomed to, or time really does just move slower when you're on the road.

“I have a tent in my bag,” Changbin volunteers, when he realises that Chan is about to make himself comfortable on the flatbed of the truck.

Chan stares at him. “Now you say that when it's dark and out and we're in the middle of nowhere?”

Changbin grins at him sheepishly.

Chan snorts. “And that tent looks ancient,” he says when Changbin shows him the tent pack. “Do you even know how to set it up?”

“It came with a manual when I got it from the pawn shop,” Changbin offers. “I traded my football cards for it. I thought it might be useful.”

Chan laughs. “We'll figure it out in the morning. We can sleep on the flatbed tonight. In the meantime, what do you want to eat?”

“What do we have?” Changbin asks, climbing onto the back of the truck to settle down next to Chan.

“Well we have a shit ton of MRE packs that will most likely keep us nourished for around half a year?” Chan says. “We’ve got a lot of variety too—Jisung and Minho made sure that we wouldn’t starve for a while.”

Jisung had cried when Chan told him about his plans to leave; he had even offered to go as well, just like Changbin did—but he did it with less conviction in his tone, and Chan knew it was because Jisung had more to lose. He had found someone who meant a lot to him, and even though he was clearly torn by his loyalty towards Chan, it was understandable why he wouldn’t really want to leave—that was why Chan told him to stay.

Jisung worked at the factory where they packed food rations, though, and with Minho’s help, he has managed to smuggle out an inordinate amount of food packs for both Chan and Changbin.

Changbin groans as he struggles to open a container labelled beef stew. “I can almost hear his annoying voice right now, bragging that he’s keeping us well fed.”

Chan laughs, shifting his full attention back to Changbin after he easily sets up a small, portable gas ring that Minho had gifted them with before they left; Jisung told Chan that Minho had traded his favorite pair of shoes for it. “I know,” he tells Changbin with a nod. “I miss him too.”

Time starts being more flexible, and the days begin to mold together. They take turns at the wheel, they eat meals without an actual schedule, and they begin to lose count of how many sunrises and sunsets they’ve experienced while on the road.

Changbin never seems to run out of things to talk about—or, to complain about, for that matter—almost to the point of exasperation for Chan. But ultimately, he doesn’t really mind, because Changbin’s chattering is at least a way to break the monotony.

“Hyung, why aren't Orphans allowed to have Families?” This is Changbin’s topic of choice one night.

They're seated outside Changbin’s tent (which they finally  figured out how to properly erect a few days ago, after two hours of poring through the instructions), under the starry night. Changbin is attempting to start a fire the natural way, much to Chan’s amusement.

“You've been thinking too much recently,” Chan says, motioning for Changbin to stop, starting an instant bonfire himself with a dash of fire dust he also acquired before leaving the city.

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Changbin says.

Chan snorts. “Sometimes, with you, it feels like it is,” he jokes.

“ Oi!” Changbin protests immediately.

Chan laughs, but he does ponder the question. “Well, heterosexual Orphan couples are allowed one child each, the same deal as inner city parents get,” he points out, after only seconds of consideration.

“It's not the same though,” Changbin protests. “You know it isn't.”

Chan shrugs. “Who knows. The law is the law. Orphans exist so they can grow up, and keep the city running. This is why so few of us procreate. Because then, what's the point? The children spend most of their lives in the Orphan homes anyway, while their parents work.”

It isn’t fair, and he knows it more than anyone. This same injustice is a big part of the reason why Chan had chosen not to claim his proper birthright—it hadn’t felt right to just pick up a privileged life, knowing that everyone he cares about would be stuck in his old life—living in a way that none of them can really escape.

“Do you remember Hyunjin?” Changbin suddenly segues.

“Of course,” Chan answers immediately, chuckling as brief flashes of memories from their childhood form in his head. “He and Jisung were always fighting, but you were always soft on him.”

“Yeah, that was the case—until he was ten,” Changbin says. “And then he got adopted.”

It doesn't happen often, but there are a few very lucky Orphans who get brought home to be welcomed into their Family by Inner City parents who are unable to produce their own blood heir. Hyunjin was a very pretty boy, with a small face that was accentuated with plush lips and pretty eyes—it was no wonder that he was picked out of everyone at Number Three.

“Do you miss him?” Chan asks. “I remember, he was kind of sensitive—a bit quiet around other kids, but he was always laughing loudly when you played together. The pair of you were always so childish together.”

Changbin shrugs. “I've stopped thinking too much about him the last few years, but now I'm kind of wondering how his life ended up being, deep in the Inner City. Also, hyung,” he glares at Chan, “we were children, of course we did childish things!”

Chansmirks. “You're still childish right now, to be honest,” he remarks.

Changbin backhands Chan’s shoulder, and Chan just laughs, returning the favor by jabbing at Changbin’s side.

“Why can't Orphans work their way up to a life in the inner city?” Changbin muses.

Chan sighs. “I've never heard of an Orphan getting a life there outside of the very rare adoption.”

Changbin hums. “You could've.”

“And look where I am now,” Chan points out.

“Only because you chose this,” Changbin says.

Chan simply  smiles at him.

Around three weeks into their travel (maybe more, maybe less), they finally see the first sign of life that isn't green and doesn’t produce oxygen.

Changbin is behind the wheel, because he had insisted that Chan try and get some shut-eye, when he almost runs over a dog.

He steps on the brake and swerves, and Chan immediately jolts into wakefulness, gripping his seat belt strap tightly while letting out a very uncharacteristically high-pitched screech. This, in turn, sets Changbin off laughing after he regains the breath he lost from initially holding it back due to nervousness.

“Hyung, you scream like a girl!” He exclaims, in between guffaws.

Chan glares at him—barely intimidating—and lightly punches his arm. Hard. “I knew I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” he mutters.

“Ouch!” Changbin cries out, caressing the arm in question. “That's gonna bruise—and sleep is important, hyung. We have nothing but time out here, you'd think you'd learn to set aside some of it for rest.”

“Shut up,” Chan orders him, followed by a click of his tongue. Changbin is right, but he's so used to getting little to no sleep from  when they were  at Number Three, and old habits really do die hard. He peers through the window. “Look outside. Is that... a dog?”

Changbin looks up, out the street, narrowing his eyes. “Hyung, look, I think that's a boy walking towards us.”

Chan blinks at the figure approaching them, unfastens his seat belt and opens the passenger door, getting off. Changbin follows suit.

“Hey!” The boy greets them, smiling and waving. He scoops up the dog they almost ran over—only a puppy, despite its thick golden hair, Chan realises after getting a better look.

Changbin grunts at the boy. “Hey.”

Chan sighs and catches Changbin's gaze. “Apologise,” he mutters.

“Oh! Ah, uhm,” Changbin turns to the boy, and attempts his biggest smile. “Sorry about the dog. He kinda came out of nowhere.”

The boy pats the puppy, babying it in his arms. “S'okay, he's safe,” he assures them, smiling. Now that he's standing closer to them, Chan notices the litter of freckles on the boy's sun-kissed face. “I’m sorry too, he really needs to be better trained. You guys are obviously not from around here, yeah?”

Chan shields his eyes with one hand from the heat of the suns, and then he nods at the boy. Changbin walks around the car to stand next to Chan, and the boy breaks out into a big, friendly smile.

“Is your truck alright?” He asks. “I'm Felix, by the way.” His smile grows bigger as he lifts the pup in his arms. “This is Kiel.”

“I'm Chan,” Chan says. “And this is Changbin,” he adds, jerking his thumb over towards Changbin. He gives his truck a quick once over, frowning when he realises it garnered “Uh, and I think we have a flat tire. We have a spare in the trunk though, so we should be good.”

But then Changbin pops the hood open, and smoke starts drifting up. “Fuck,” he mutters, looking quite pained when he looks up at Chan again. “I think the engine overheated too.”

“I know a hyung who could give you a hand with that, don't worry,” Felix volunteers. He checks his watch. “Also, it's lunch time, aren't you two hungry?”

As if on cue, Chan’s stomach lets out a soft rumbly noise which makes Changbin snort. “I guess we kind of are.”

“And I'm starting to get tired of the taste and texture of the MREs,” Changbin whispers, shuffling closer so that he's right behind Chan. “Maybe they have real food, hyung.”

Felix introduces them first to his friend, Seungmin, who regards them with clear suspicion, even though he doesn't really voice it out. He accompanies them to Felix's house, where they meet Felix's twin sister, Chaewon, who feeds them hefty servings of baked macaroni, while Felix happily talks about how their mother and their older cousin, Doyeon, are busy out in the orchard, tending to their apple trees.

Chan and Changbin glance at each other, quite taken aback at the way Felix talks about his family—a mother, a sister, a cousin, and him. That's certainly at least two children too many, by Chan’s count.

“Seungminnie is very friendly with the auto shop’s manager—so some of the guys who work there should be able to help with the car situation,” Felix also volunteers.

“I can fix it,” Changbin interjects, but after a quick look from Chan, he adds, “But I wouldn't say no to help.”

Seungmin stares at Changbin looking like he wants to rescind the offer made, and then he gives Felix a quick look before sighing as if unable to let him down by doing that.

“Yeah, Sungjin-hyung should be able to at least provide tools, and spare parts if necessary,” Seungmin says, smiling only when Felix beams at him proudly.

“Thanks,” Chan says. “But I can't really say we can pay. What kind of currency do you even use around here?”

“Mostly we just do barters actually,” Felix explains. “So if you have anything of use?”

“A helping hand is the best currency around here,” Seungmin adds.

“We'll see then,” Chan agrees, nodding slowly as he and Changbin exchange a look. “Hopefully we can find something that we can assist with around here.”

With their mother's permission, Felix heartily and hospitably invites them to stay the night, and Chan and Changbin agree, because it's not like they're in any hurry to get to a particular destination. Felix prepares a makeshift mattress for them to sleep on on the floor of his bedroom, made out of old blankets.

“So where do you guys come from?” Felix asks as he hands them pillows.

“The city,” Chan answers. “And thank you so much for your hospitality.”

Felix shrugs. “No problem,” he says, smiling. “Which city, by the way?”

“There's more than one?” Changbin pipes up, eyes wide, partly from surprise, and partly from utter curiosity.

Felix laughs, airy yet deep in the way it echoes around the dimly lit room. “Oh right, sometimes I forget that people who grew up in the cities never know about what lies outside their little bubble domes.”

“You're not from one?” Changbin asks. “You were born here?”

“Okay, one question at a time,” Felix says, chuckling. “One, yes there's more than one. Two, we are from one—Mom says it's called Sydney.”

“We're from Seoul,” Chan calmly interjects; he wonders if the way that Felix pronounces some of his words differently has anything to do with their differences in origin.

“Really?” Felix asks. “Some friends of ours—Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong, they said they’re from Home No. 5, I think? They wandered out when they were ten, and nine, and got picked up by one of our elderlies after walking around for a few days. Seungminnie was born outside the dome city, but if I remember right, his parents are from Seoul. I think most people here can trace their origins to Seoul—Chaewon has a friend though, Hitomi—I think Chaewon said her grandparents are from somewhere called Tokyo.”

“Wow,” Changbin whispers, looking quite shook and uncertain how to react; Chan can't blame him because despite being better at keeping a poker face, he feels the same. “They're all dome cities?”

“Apparently,” Felix answers. “Seungmin used to compare notes with the kids from different cities, and apparently all the domes more or less operate in the same way. Orphans, Inner City Families, all that.”

“Oh.” Chan exhales shakily as he lets all the new information settle.

“I don't really remember anything,” Felix prattles on. “Apparently I was barely a year old when my parents left the city with me and my sister. I was the one that they were supposed to give up because Chaewon is a couple of minutes older—but my mother couldn't do it. She couldn't give either of us up.”

“Give you up? So your mother and your sister and your father,” Changbin murmurs. “They were a Family?

“I think so, yeah,” Felix says, completely oblivious to the hint of reverence in Changbin's time. “You're Orphan boys?”

“Well obviously no one from the Inner City would give up that life in exchange for the unknown,” Chan points out with a snort, only to pause as he realises something. “Oh,” he says, embarrassed. “I guess your parents did. What happened to your Dad?”

Felix looks down. “He died several years ago, when I was thirteen.”

“Oh,” Chan blinks. “Oh, I see.” Chan doesn't really understand feeling sad about deaths. Especially not of parents—he grew up without knowing what ‘parents’ are supposed to mean to a child, but for some reason, he feels sad and funny inside.

He wonders about his own now, the ones who passed before their time—the ones whose birthright he had rejected when he ran away from Seoul. A small part of him feels an unfamiliar sting.

Changbin smiles, suddenly piping up. “You and your sister are lucky though, at least you got to know him.”

The optimism in his words, despite sounding uncertain, causes a smile to curve on Chan’s lips.

“I know,” Felix says, nodding, eyes shining with much more genuine positivity.  “I know at least that much.”

Their overnight stay stretches far longer than they anticipate.

At first they only stay because Felix says it's almost time to harvest the apple trees that his family grow and take care of, and he says he'll let Chan and Changbin take a whole bunch with them on their journey for free; neither Chan nor Changbin are in the business of saying no to fresh fruit.

The harvest will happen in a week, tops, Felix promises.

Except everyone in the little town is really friendly and welcoming and warm, all things that Chan and Changbin grew up highly unfamiliar with, and so slowly, surely without them even realising, they get really cozy and accustomed with everyone.

They still camp out at the floor of Felix's room every night, but during days they do chores around the house, mostly because Chaewon is not the sort of person to let the people around her simply laze around when there is work that could be done, but also because both Chan and Changbin are more than willing to help out anyway, not wanting to impose.

“Plus I feel really uneasy when I'm not doing anything,” Chan confides in Felix. “Occupational hazard of being an Orphan, I think. We always had to be doing something, even when it was our break time, we were expected to be productive. Rest and recreation were luxuries only for Inner City people.”

Felix laughs. “I think it's probably an occupational hazard of every other decent person, hyung! You know, wanting to be productive.”

They end up staying there for almost three months.

After three and a half weeks, Chaewon insists that the two of them move into her old room, while she moves in with Doyeon in the house's largest bedroom. By that time, Chan is already regularly doing odd jobs around their family's apple farm, while Changbin is practically working full-time at Sungjin's auto-shop.

They refuse at first, Chan insisting that they don't want to shake up their lives more than they already had, but then their mother interferes and points out that Felix has the smallest room, and it isn't right for the three of them to share such a tiny space together.

Around two months in, they find out they're only a week away from Sungjin's wedding to a girl named Jihyo, who had the biggest, prettiest eyes, and who worked at the town's mess hall, where everyone had communal breakfast and lunch six days a week.

The entire town gets busy helping with the preparations, and so Chan and Changbin both get caught up as well. One time, they’re hanging out with Chan and Changbin, discussing maybe throwing the couple a surprise engagement party, when Changbin completely goes off topic.

“Hey, Lix—” he starts, catching not just Felix’s attention, but Chan’s and Seungmin’s as well. “How come you and your family speak weird—” At this point, Seungmin shoots him a scathing glare, while Chan can only wince at his choice of words. Luckily, Changbin is quick to pick up on social cues, and is able to reword himself in time. “I just mean—you and your family have a different way of speaking compared to everyone else in town.”

Seungmin still has eyes narrowed at him—and really, if looks could kill, Changbin would probably be six feet under already—but Felix just grins. Chan can't help but shake his head slightly, because the boy is too pure for this world sometimes.

“What—?” Changbin wrinkles his nose at Seungmin. “I’m genuinely curious! He and Chaewon talk in a completely different language sometimes—and so do the two of you!”

“Rude,” Seungmin mutters under his breath, but Chan notices that he lets Felix handle the question himself.

“It’s because they spoke a different language where my parents are from,” Felix explains. “This community here has mostly people from Seoul, where you guys are from, because it's the nearest dome city. But our parents always talked to us in their native tongue when we were growing up. We didn’t really arrive here until Chaewon and I were around six? Maybe seven.”

“How come he—” Changbin gestures towards Seungmin’s direction, “—speaks it too, then?”

“Because Felix is my best friend,” Seungmin says simply. “So of course I made sure we can communicate.”

Felix flashes a grateful smile at Seungmin. “Yeah—when we first came here, no one could really understand what we were saying. Seungmin was one of the first ones to try and learn, though!”

“Tch,” Seungmin shrugs as if trying to downplay what he did; the warm pink coloring the apples of his cheeks are easily noticeable to Chan, though. “Everyone here picked it up soon enough anyway—we all have to be quick learners in order to adapt to life outside bubble cities, after all.”

Changbin’s gaze flits from Felix, to Seungmin, then back to Felix again, and as he does that, Chan can practically see the gears in his head start to turn.

“Cool,” Changbin retorts.

He spends the rest of the week working on engagement party plans, right by Felix’s and Seungmin’s joint sides, badgering them to help him improve his language skills.

“Might come in handy one day when we resume our trip,” is the only explanation he has for Chan, and this is how he realises that Changbin feels just as settled as he does—which is to say, not at all.

It makes Chan hide a smile.

The wedding is simple, but sweet. The ceremony is short, and not at all in any way fussy, but Changbin is totally fascinated—neither he nor Chan have ever been to one after all. The concept is not entirely unfamiliar to them, but as usual, it's another one of those things that they assume are for Inner City people only. Even after Orphans get together, most still continue to live in their assigned work dormitories; occasionally, a couple is able to afford renting one of the apartments that surrounds the city's perimeter, but there isn't really more to Orphan marriage than that.

Changbin hears Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong gushing at each other throughout the ceremony, their hands threaded together tightly.

“They’ll make a lovely family,” Chaeyeon says. “With lots of cute, adorable babies.”

The statement renders Changbin puzzled, because despite living in this small community for months, Chan can tell that he still hasn’t been able to unlearn much of what has been ingrained in him since he was a little boy.

“You’re thinking that it’s not a family anymore past three, right?” Chan asks him a hushed whisper.

He has gone through this himself—because it’s not just Felix and his family. Seungmin has a sister as well, in fact most of the families in the little village have two or three children on the average, and all of them hardly ever blink when they refer to themselves as family.

He had asked Felix once, what he thinks a family is, but Felix had just looked at him strangely, like he couldn’t believe the question that Chan was asking.

“It’s the people closest to you, I guess,” Felix says eventually, after taking a minute or so to think of an answer. “All the people you love. All the people you care about.”

Only a few days pass after the wedding before Chan starts itching to move again. He brings this up, very casually, one time while he and Changbin are out with Felix and Seungmin as they take Kiel out for a walk.

“But—where are the two of you even headed?” Seungmin asks.

“To the end of the world,” Changbin answers cheekily, echoing Chan’s words from what feels like forever ago.

Chan  holds back a snort at that, instead just smiling calmly.

Seungmin rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and presses further, “No, really, surely you have a destination in mind?”

“Nope, not really,” Chan is the one who answers this time. “We'll go until we reach the end of the road.”

“What happens after that then?” Felix asks, and at this, Changbin turns to Chan,  obviously just as curious as..

Chan shrugs. “We'll see when we get there.”

Changbin smiles, as if, for some reason, he expected that answer.

“Are you sure?” Felix and Chaewon’s mother ask them, after they let her know that they’re planning on leaving. “That room is yours for as long as you want it.”

“I'm sure,” Chan says, smiling. “But thank you so much for everything—to you and your entire family.”

“No problem!” Felix, who is there as well, assures him enthusiastically. “You guys are welcome back any time, right mom?!” The older woman smiles, and nods to validate Felix’s statement, which prompts him to continue. “This isn't a bubble we live in here. Even if you leave, you're always welcome back.”

Chan grins. “That's nice to know.”

“We're gonna miss you both,” Felix tells them, over and over again, right until the day that they’re set to go. He gives them both tight hugs, while Chaewon holds out a huge basket of freshly picked apples for them when it’s her turn.

“From mother.” She informs them. “She says it's more than enough payment for all your help the last few months.”

“Thanks,”  Changbin says, readily accepting it with a huge grin.

“Visit soon.” Seungmin keeps it short, not even looking at them directly.

Changbin snorts. “We'll try!” He says. “But you really should ask more nicely than that.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes, and Chan laughs. “We’ll visit when we can, definitely,” he assures the younger male.

“Yeah,” Changbin agrees. “If we don't die at the end of the world.”

Seungmin makes a face. “That's so fucking morbid.”

Felix laughs. “Seungmin’s basically saying he'll miss you,” he playfully relays,.

“We'll miss everyone too,” Chan says. “Thank you for everything.”

Being on the road again feels a little strange, almost melancholic, even.

“We can't really go back, huh, hyung?” Changbin says out loud. He's leaning his head against the car window, staring at the sprawling dirt road.

“To Felix and the others? Of course we can,” Chananswers. “Maybe. Probably. One day, if we find our way back. But you heard them, we're welcome back anytime.”

Changbin grunts. “No, I mean, Seoul,” he clarifies. “Home.”

“Guess not,” Chan answers.

Another stretch of silence passes, before Changbin is clearly unable to bear it any longer. “What happened to your Family's estate, hyung?” He asks. “And your Family Business?”

“I gave it away,” Chan admits, after hesitating for a second.

“Just like that?”

Chan smiles softly. “Remember Yerin?”

Changbin gives him a pointed look, which Chan supposes is well deserved. “Of course,” Changbin says. “We all grew up together—” his breath lightly hitches. “Jisung and I always figured there was something between you two.”

Chan snorts. “You and Jisungie sure spent a lot of time gossiping, huh?”

Changbin laughs. “We just knew how to keep our ears open,” he points out sassily.

“Sure, you did,” Chan hums, humoring him; when Changbin just clicks his tongue instead of carrying on with the banter, Chan knows it’s because he’s waiting for a more in depth answer, so he sighs. “Yerin had a lot of dreams,” he says. “She was a complex person who wanted a lot from life—the most insatiable individual I’ve ever met. I never fully understood her when we were together, but if there’s someone who would make good use of my birthright, it’s her. So I asked Lawyer Park to find her, and to fix it so that she could live the life I could be living now.”

Chan falls into a nervous silence; he never told Changbin this before because a part of him has always wondered if maybe he should have left it to Changbin himself—or Jisung.

But he knew that bestowing his Privilege upon Jisung would have meant tearing him away from the rare companionable comfort he had found in Minho, while Changbin— well.

Maybe it was pure selfishness, because Changbin wouldn’t be with him now if he had allowed Changbin into that life.

He briefly glances at the younger now, unable to read the meaning behind his set jaw, and glazed eyes.

“Oh,” Changbin just says. “Oh.”

“Changbin,” Chan says his name so gently, that it almost sounds strange.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wish you were given a chance at that life instead?”

Chan feels anxious, somehow, but then Changbin surprises him by releasing a hearty cackle.

“No way,” he answers. “Why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Hyung,” Changbin sighs, almost exasperatedly. “I wouldn’t have wanted it anyway—I can't imagine being anywhere that you weren't at.”

The simple honesty in his words render Chan speechless, and for the next long stretch of the road, the two of them fall into companionable silence.

“Do you ever wonder how Yerin-noona is?” Changbin asks, after dinner one evening, as the two of them lay flat on the backside of the truck, both of them staring up at the sky and the millions of stars twinkling brightly.

They never seemed as sparkly back when they were still inside Seoul; now Chan doesn’t think he can ever tire of their beauty.

“That’s a silly question,” Chan answers, chuckling. “Same way I wonder about Jisung as well, and Minho—and everyone else we left behind, like Yugyeom and Jeonginnie, and Yeji, and Yuna… Don’t you? I’m sure you think of them too, and Chaeyoung, and even Hyunjin.”

“You make a good point, hyung.” Changbin exhales slowly. “So—you wouldn’t say that you left your heart in Seoul?”

Chan bursts into laughter. “What?!”

He half expects Changbin to join him, but he doesn’t; he remains silent, as if he’s waiting for Chan to pipe down and offer him an actual answer. It’s disconcerting, because it’s not like Changbin to be so serious like that.

It effectively makes Chan feel like he deserves a real answer, though.

“No,” he says confidently; but then a thought enters his head, and his voice wavers, “Did you?”

“No,” Changbin answers readily, and Chan lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding.

He misses his friends in Seoul, and every night he wishes for them to be healthy and safe, and to have lives that are as fulfilling as they can be allowed—but his heart feels whole, despite all that.

“You know what I heard Felix once say?” Changbin asks, but it’s clearly rhetorical, so chan just turns his head to look at him, eyes questioning. “That home is where the heart is,” Changbin states. “And I’ve realised, throughout this journey, that Seoul isn't my home, hyung. As far as I know, I'm home right now.”

Chan grins, and he feels so full of happiness, and he's not sure where it's all coming from. “Me too, Bin. Me too.”

They drive and drive and drive for almost another month, falling back into old habits from before they’d taken their little road trip hiatus at Felix’s village.

Chan thinks he should feel a little lonelier, but he doesn't. Changbin keeps him company in a masterful way, and when the younger seemingly runs out of people to talk about, he starts making up stories, most of which make Chan laugh, and occasionally think and ponder life, and the universe more than he already does.

All things considered, one or both of them should be bored, or antsy, or anxious by now—but neither of them do. They fall into a strangely relaxed lull, and it’s nicer than Chan would have thought a road trip to nowhere would be.

“Hyung, do you remember that time when we hung out, and Jisung played the guitar, and you were on keyboard?” Changbin asks another night, while they're warming themselves in front of a bonfire.

Chan snorts. “Vaguely. A few years ago, right? You wanted me or Jisung to teach you how to play, so you wouldn’t be stuck with a triangle.”

“Mhm,” Changbin nods, fingers tapping against his thighs, as if he’s playing imaginary keys. “That was after we lost Hyunjin to a Family, so you and Jisungie were trying to cheer me up—we wrote silly songs and had a good time. I was very aptly cheered up.”

Chan laughs. “You’re welcome for the service.”

“Did you ever think about why—?” Changbin asks. “Why you’d gravitated towards the keyboard—or why Jisung was good at the guitar despite hardly trying. Why we all were so drawn to music—?”

“What do you mean?” Chan asks, brow creasing with confusion.

“Or—more than that, did you ever wonder why you were such a good swimmer? Or why Jisung had such a short temper?”

“You’ve lost me, Bin.”

Changbin sighs. “I was just thinking about how Felix used to always say that he got his love for country music from his father. And their mom always used to proudly say that Chaewon got her sense of style from her,” he explains. “And Felix used to talk about how Seungmin got his affinity for arguing and needing to have the last word from his father as well.”

“Are you asking if I think I got the urge to learn to play the keyboard because of my parents?” Chan asks. “Implying that I’m a good swimmer because of them?”

Changbin shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

Chan sits up, stretches his legs in front of him, and clasps his hands together as he gives the question proper thought. “Before I never thought about parents, you know?” He eventually says. “They were a luxury, something only the Inner City dwellers could have.”

Changbin listens, watching Chan’s face intently.

“But then apparently I should have had that too. And I didn't. Yet at the same time, it didn't feel like I should. What is a Family anyway, Changbin? Why should it be exactly Three?”

“Hyung...”

Chan shrugs. “All my life I thought I was going to work for the city, but then it turns out I was meant for the other way around—I was one of the people the city was going to work for and it didn't feel right. I had to get out of there.”

“This is why you wanted to get out of the city?” Changbin asks.

“I just wanted to start thinking for myself,” Chan explains. “In the city, everything is already laid out for us, and nobody questions anything. But if there was apparently more to my life than what I have known for twenty-one years, then surely there must be something more in general. And if there are parts of me that are the way they are because of who my parents were—I don’t think it really matters at this point. What matters more is how I choose to present those parts of myself.”

“You’re right,” Changbin murmurs, nodding and smiling as he absorbs Chan’s words. “That’s a very good way of thinking about it, hyung.”

Chan smiles. “Family is who you make it anyway,” he adds quietly. “Felix told me that—family is who is close to you, and I think that’s more important than whichever people either of us came from.”

You’re my family now, he almost says, but he bites his tongue—somehow, it feels like the words are a given anyway, despite being unsaid.

Five weeks after they started their drive again, they find out that the road they've been following ends at a high cliff. Chan parks the cars a few meters away, and together, he and Changbin walk towards the edge.

There, they find nothing.

The drop seems to go on forever and forever, and while the sky is a very, very bright and vivid blue, Chan couldn't even figure out where the horizon is exactly.

“So,” Changbin murmurs, looking around and taking in his surroundings. “Is this the end of the world?”

“Why are you here with me?” Chan asks. It's a question that’s been at the back of his head ever since they’d left Seoul, but for some reason couldn't—and wouldn't—bring himself to ask.

But they're here now, at their final point, or so they think, and Chan figures he might as well come out with it.

Changbin shrugs. “Because it's you,” he answers. “I can't imagine being anywhere else but with you.”

Chan laughs. “That's not really an actual answer.”

“Hyung,” Changbin smiles at him; and then he sighs. “Remember when I just got transferred to Three?”

Chan nods. “You were only what, five? Six? The rest of us had been in Three since we were only a year old.”

“And I got assigned the bunk above yours,” Changbin says.

“Did you?” Chan’s forehead furrows as he tries to remember. “Oh yeah, you did. You were in that bed for a year before they shuffled things up.”

“Yeah.” Changbin grins. “Anyway, remember how I had a hard time sleeping the first few weeks? The place was unfamiliar, and the noises were different.”

Chan laughs. “Really? You were a little scaredy-cat, then? I do remember you dragging around that red blanket of yours everywhere you went—it was a security thing, wasn’t it?”

“Hyung!” Changbin elbows him playfully.

Chan grins. “Okay, okay—carry on, then!”

“Well, a few days in, you climbed up to my bed and told me you couldn't sleep because I kept tossing and turning, and you said the bed kept shaking.”

“Really?” Chan asks. “You remember these things from almost fifteen years ago?”

Changbin shrugs. “Great minds work in different ways?”

Chan laughs.

“You let me sleep next to you for an entire week, until I finally got used to the environment,” Changbin continues. “And then after that I kept following you around—”

“That I remember!” Chan interrupts him, laughing. “Baby Changbin!”

“To be fair, I was an actual baby!”

“Still very baby now,” Chan teases; Changbin whines at that, and Chan laughs more. “You’re just proving my point right there, you big baby.”

There’s genuine fondness in his tone though, and Changbin presumably detects that because he doesn’t protest much more.

“Hyung, my point is, you were always there for me—you were always there for everyone in Three, actually. You looked after everyone, and actively cared for anyone who was younger than you,” Changbin explains, almost shyly—almost as if he’s embarrassed. “But you also need someone to take care of you, hyung—someone to lean on. I’d like to think that I’m ready to be that kind of person for you, and it’s mostly because of everything you’ve done for me when we were growing up.”

Chan partly wants to laugh, and partly wants to protest. Mostly, he wants to stress that he can take care of himself just fine—but he doesn’t do any of these things, because he realises that he gets it, and that there’s no point in denying any of what Changbin said,

So he simply looks at Changbin, a fond and grateful smile forming on his face.

“It's not like you ever make it hard for anyone to want to care for you,” he murmurs, and Changbin looks at him, beaming proudly.

“Thank you, hyung,” Chan says. “You have to know that the same can be said about you.”

Chan laughs. “Well, thank you for accompanying me to the end of the world, Bin. It has a nice view, don't you think?”

They stay seated at the edge of the cliff for at least an hour, staring at nothingness and beyond.

When Chan starts walking back to the truck, Changbin lingers more than a few steps behind him. And so once Chan gets to where they parked, he unlocks the door on the driver’s side, and looks over his shoulder to beckon at Changbin to hurry up.

From a short distance, the way Changbin takes a deep breath, is evident, and he looks like he’s struggling to overcome some kind of strange, sudden urge. Chan regards him curiously, until he breaks out into a jog, deftly running towards Chan until they’re standing right in front of each other.

“Hyung,” he says, smiling widely. “Remember when I said that I kissed Chaeyoung, but it was weird—?”

Chan is confused for a second; the memory of this anecdote being shared already feels like a lifetime, and he has to struggle to navigate his way back down memory lane. He never gets the proper chance for recollection though, because Changbin suddenly leans in and presses his lips against  Chan’s own.

He's a little tentative, a bit apprehensive, and he almost pulls away, but Chan takes that as his cue to place his hand against the back of Changbin’s neck, pulling him closer, parting his lips a little, and showing Changbin how a proper kiss is done.

Not that he needs any sort of education, because Changbin is quick to press against Chan, fingers curling around the latter’s bicep as he allows the kiss to deepen, letting Chan lead but reciprocating with as much fervor—tongue, teeth, and soft grunting noises, match for match.

When they pull away, Changbin is flushed, and Chan iz feeling more than a little breathless.

“You said it was weird,” Chan murmurs, as they break away for air. “You said it was weird because it didn’t feel like there was a point to it.”

“Because there’s a reason Orphans don’t get Families,” Changbin continues, looking up at Chan, hovering as if expecting a continuation of the kiss. “And it felt pointless to start anything with her.”

The implication of what Changbin is trying to say is immediately clear to Chan, and it settles in his heart with a ticklish flutter.

He blinks his eyes at Chan, attempting to find the right words to answer with, but hardly anything seems appropriate.

In the end, this is what he settles with as he pulls the car door open: “Come on then, we're off to see the other end of the world.”

Changbin breaking out into a cheeky, lopsided grin is the exact response he’d been hoping for.

fin.