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It was the third house Minho saw and it was empty, abandoned as the rest in that damn city.
He was hungry, he had to admit.
For once he hoped someone was there to at least steal some food, not that he needed company.
He never needed it, he just wanted to survive like everybody else. Maybe it was the fact he survived for years, but it was easy that way. No attachment, not problems, no dead meat later.
He hated to choose between himself and others, he was selfish, but everyone was and no one wanted to admit it. He tried to be friendly, he tried to stay in a group of people, he tried to cater to people’s needs but no one cared about him so he stopped caring about them and eventually left.
He tried a total of three times, and it was enough.
It was the end of the fucking world, waters were getting closer to the coasts and the cities were unsafe, criminals running free and people acting like the purge meant they could kill everyone in sight. And Minho met those types of people, he got friendly with those and almost lost an arm to one of them. But it was the past, he was different now, he was a new man with new ambitions and he wanted to survive, he wanted to wait for some escape and the escape was Mars.
Fuck rich people for fleeing first, for getting a second chance on Mars and for leaving everyone behind once the fire started, right after the planet got hit.
Fuck everyone for leaving behind their families, for abandoning entire nations and for probably amusing themselves when they kept in touch with this dying planet. The fact people survived and had to struggle to be alive was fucking crazy, Minho despised this world with all his being.
Kids suffering on the streets, he was a kid himself when this happened and he always wanted to know what to do to survive and help others, till he grew disappointed in human’s behavior and decided that helping and caring for other people wasn’t for him so instead he became a loner and he kept this up for years now. He was tired, he was sick of life and everything around it, but he kept struggling to survive and eventually flee.
Not many wanted to go to the Moon or any other satellites. Some were destroyed, others were under construction and not livable and eventually those that could afford it flew to Mars. The other planet that could be acceptable was one too far away, exoplanets were still disgustingly far to reach.
So Mars it was, but he needed so much to get there.
Minho used to be a kid of the streets once, he survived by stealing and he got a habit out of that, he was a rapid pickpocket and he didn’t hesitate to leave someone in their underwear if it guaranteed his survival. He minded his business and looked after himself only.
Abandoned houses were his favorite, unfortunately he wasn’t getting anything good these days except for some towels and older sheets, but they weren’t as useful lately.
He decided to take a different route around the house, maybe something survived on the back, so he stalked the walls carefully, passing his hands over the tiles and eventually deciding if it was worth it or not. Not many animals survived the purge and all reptiles especially went almost extinct.
Then he stopped at a sound. He wasn’t sure if he stepped on something, if some wild animal was around or if he wasn’t alone after all and someone else eyed this house.
What he was sure about was that when looked through the window, he could see fire.
Shit.
Someone was inside.
And where there were people, there was food. And water.
Maybe Minho could consider this a lucky hit, or maybe he ended up in the wolves’ mouth, he guessed it was ok to try at least.
He walked around a little more before he got to an open door — or better said, an open entrance, because there was no door. A great invitation, Minho wasn’t sure he wanted to accept just yet though.
Minho took a reluctant step inside, eyes darting left and right to check his surroundings, but it seemed strangely safe.
Why so?
A house that seemed barely touched was safe, no one seemed to have stolen anything yet, Minho could even notice some weird intact decorations on the walls, which was weird.
Then he heard steps and Minho didn’t make it in time to hide, fuck .
They were rapid ones, he didn’t have time to realize what was coming before he found himself in front of a— a kid ?
No way.
A kid.
Shit.
No, no, no, he couldn’t do that.
Was that kid alone?
And if he wasn’t, did he have to put up with a mother asking for help?
God, not again.
Minho gulped, covering his mouth to not make a sound.
If the kid was alone, Minho was fucked. If the kid was with someone, he was also fucked.
Fuck .
“Hi.”
No!
Minho refused.
He needed to pretend he didn’t see him, usually kids were like that, they forgot rapidly. How old was this one? He looked like a boy, he was definitely a boy and he was probably… four or something, were kids able to speak at four?
Fuck, Minho forgot how that shit worked.
Why would people have kids during the fucking apocalypse?
Fuck human kind.
Minho looked away, ready to run back on his steps but then the kid grabbed his long jacket and pulled.
“Come meet dad.”
Nah , not a father…
Fucking hell, this was the worst of the two possibilities: he was with someone and it was a father. Was it a family or only the father?
Jesus Christ, Minho didn’t want to meet the day oh shit.
“I’m good.” Minho refused with a dragged smile, waving his hands to shoo the boy away but to no avail.
“Jeongin,” a voice inside called and Minho grimaced, his whole body cringing, shit , “who are talking to?”
The kid turned to the voice but the tiny hand kept griping the fabric hard, almost pulling Minho with him.
“Someone.”
No, please, all but doing that now…
But it was too late for Minho to escape that soft grip — blame him or not, but Minho didn’t want to use violence on a kid, he didn’t deserve that treatment even if he was annoying — because a man appeared from the back and stared at Minho with big round eyes.
He was quite… Wow , he looked young. Maybe they were the same age, more or less.
The man blinked at him in silence.
He didn’t seem to have a uniform but his dressing was also quite… official in a way Minho didn’t know how to put it. And he was a dad, fuck Minho’s luck for running short when he needed it the most.
He wasn’t a short guy, but not taller than Minho. The fact was that they seemed to be quite the same in body, maybe Minho’s upper body was slightly larger but aside from that, Minho was glad he wasn’t going against some big man really to put him down. And this one didn’t even seem to have the intention.
Good for him, but Minho needed out.
Now.
“I can see there’s someone…” the man spoke, eyes scanning Minho’s body, “let him go perhaps?”
The kid didn't have any intention to obey as he kept grabbing Minho’s jacket harder and pulling and Minho was quite amused at the gesture. It was a soft one, he was barely pulling but he looked like he was putting endless strength into it.
His dad sighed, passing a hand over his face, “Jeongin, you're up for no good.”
Minho felt almost sad for the boy. But he didn’t react, he kept his feet steady and he looked as the boy chewed on his bottom lip while pouting.
Then the man moved in their direction, pulling the kid away from Minho and freeing him.
It happened in a couple seconds but Minho barely registered it, his eyes confusedly checking the jacket.
“He's pretty obedient usually,” the man expressed his apology with a leaned head, pushing his son's down too, “I’m sorry.”
Minho coughed, that felt awkward.
He should go now, nod and go.
Nod.
“It’s fine.”
And go.
But he didn’t move.
Minho stared at them and met their eyes quietly, running his fingers over his dirty jacket as if he was trying to get rid of something stuck on the fabric.
“Do you need anything here?”
Oh, fuck that question.
That’s how it always started. He should not chat, this wasn’t the time to make friends, Minho was a loner for Christ’s sake.
“If you want a piece," he pointed at the back and Minho’s heart almost stopped, "you’re welcome at the table, we can share.”
Shit.
That was double fucked up.
Minho didn’t consider the third possibility: a man taking care of a kid and looking for someone to share the burden with.
No , Minho wasn’t cut out for that.
Minho hesitated, he didn't know what to answer.
“I’m Jisung,” the man offered his hand, “this is my son, Jeongin.”
No fucking way…
Forreal?
Minho shouldn’t accept, this was bad but he was petrified, he didn't know what to do and how to refuse. And to him refusing was so easy.
What was happening?
Was it the kid?
Fuck, Minho was weak for kids, that's why he refused to have them around.
— — —
That was how it started, Minho didn’t reject Jisung’s invitation for some reason and now he was in a sea of trouble… and the sea was swallowing him whole. For the past week, Minho had been attached to them and he didn’t want that to happen at first. Mostly because of Jeongin.
He was a kid, he didn’t know how to behave or how to react quickly and Minho was sure he’d be in danger any time soon and truly, Jisung didn’t seem to worry enough while Minho was constantly anxious.
He hated doing that, he truly needed a different plan but things were all over the place lately and now that he had a chance to go away, he couldn’t. And he didn’t have it in himself to say it, but for another reason.
Jisung was the reason. Jisung was so cute, Minho’s heart skipped a beat when Jisung smiled at him and the way their hands fit so well made him feel all weird inside.
He really liked him, it had been so long since he found someone like him… but he couldn’t do it.
He shouldn’t, there was too much to take care of, three was too much and Minho needed to be alone to escape that stupid planet. Jeongin needed constant attention and he always screamed for his father, he couldn’t go anywhere with them and this was so complicated.
But Jisung was cute, his face was adorable and his lips were kissable.
Shit.
The worst part about it was that Jisung was a great man, he knew how to survive and he acted so well under pressure but a kid?
It was too much.
And now that Minho was in front of the most important choice of his life, everything he tried to do to maintain this subtle alliance crumbled.
Of course, a kid was at fault. Kids were a nuisance, they were the worst when it came to surviving.
And maybe that’s why, now that Minho and Jisung had some time alone and Jeongin was sleeping, he let those words out and completely ruined a dinner they worked so hard to make and provide for the kid as well.
“You can’t come with me.”
Jisung stopped chewing, his face fell but he looked like he knew what Minho was referring to.
“I can’t believe you’re truly saying it…”
He looked disappointed, and although Minho expected that, he still bit into his bottom lip hard, like he was hurt by Jisung’s reaction.
“Listen–”
“No, Minho,” Jisung sighed, not looking at him while he hugged Jeongin closer and lulled him, “I get it but still, fuck you .”
It was bitter.
Oh , he was the bad guy now?
Minho just tried to be honest, he couldn’t help them, he couldn’t take care of two other people.
— — —
To be quite honest, Minho didn’t plan to go alone that quickly. He even looked back a couple times, which explained a lot about him.
He got attached, fuck that.
And he was now completely alone, watching the nth spaceship sail and he wasn’t on any of them, because he didn’t manage to get inside of any.
And his heart was breaking at the realization, if only he could find a way out of that situation… he kind of missed Jisung now because he usually just… Minho found the man a positive pill, he looked like he accepted life as it went – of course being a father of a kid he couldn’t really get depressed in front of him now could he, but still, Jisung was so strong while Minho felt exposed for being weak.
And helpless, especially now that he saw all the spaceships go and he couldn’t get there.
And it was so cold, why was it so cold outside?
Was he about to freeze to death?
No way he came to that.
He closed his eyes, he couldn’t stay there but he didn’t have strength to move at all and for a moment, he lost consciousness, he was sure he wasn’t even there and the cold was affecting his body so much he felt like freezing.
And then he felt something touch him, the pressure on his body was a lot and opened his eyes and he saw a familiar face, he wanted to scream at his luck (or misfortune, Minho wasn’t sure anymore).
Minho didn’t say a thing, but he was so close to crying now. He was probably hallucinating, there was no way Jisung was there with him.
He had been moved, he wasn’t sure where but he knew he was in someone’s arms, but he didn’t hear a word. If it was Jisung, he wouldn't even look at Minho twice. Part of Minho wanted to scream, he didn’t know what to do or how to react to all that but he knew he needed to rest, he felt both heavy and weightless, like he meant nothing in this world.
And maybe he was meaningless, but he knew he needed to move on, to not let the world punish him for being born, for surviving.
At some point Minho might have lost his consciousness again because he opened his eyes to Jeongin’s face, his tiny hand on his forehead and a slight smile on his tiny mouth.
Minho blinked, a little confused and then he realized he was half naked, getting goosebumps on his skin but he wasn’t that cold anymore.
The blanket was warm and the mattress was comfortable, he couldn’t believe what was happening, it was so weird. But he really thought he got lucky, because he knew he could have died.
Minho rolled on his side and was met with a pair of eyes staring at him, silence in the room.
Jisung.
Minho’s heart stopped in his throat.
Jisung stared at him, no expression on his face and it sort of made Minho sad. They didn’t share much but for some reason Minho got attached, he felt so apologetic for everything, especially the way he acted with them and left them alone. Minho did what he said he hated people for, at the end of the day he wasn’t better than them. And it did hurt his ego but most of all, he felt bad he hurt that man, despite not knowing him enough.
Jisung didn’t know him enough yet he went after him, he knew where to look for him, Jisung knew him more than Minho did.
“You good?” Jisung whispered, his hand on Minho’s face and passing the fingers over his face.
Minho didn’t know what to say, but he knew there were some words he had to say.
“I’m sorry.” Minho scooted closer, even if he was ready to be rejected.
He was looking for warmth, Jisung’s body and existence was warm and comfortable. But instead of feeling Jisung get further, Jisung didn’t move and let Minho stay there. And Minho was pushing himself into his body, nuzzling in Jisung’s touch and the way he felt safe, for once in his life he felt safe in someone’s arms and he should have known. The way Jisung didn’t reject him made Minho only want to get closer, to adhere his chest to his and feel the other’s heartbeat next to his.
And he remembered how in one of the first nights they were together, Jisung did the same, scooting closer to Minho’s side with his son. And he remembered how well it felt to have someone touch you that way.
“I know I shouldn’t care,” Minho continued softly, “but I’m not able to think of a kid, I get too attached.”
Minho heard Jisung sigh and close his eyes, his hands far from touching Minho any longer, “he’s five Minho, he’s able to walk and run and I’m taking care of him, you don’t have to do anything.”
Fuck.
He was right but it still… maybe it reminded Minho of something, maybe he was scared something could happen to Jeongin and he couldn’t help. Minho didn’t know, but he should have at least behaved better, that was for sure.
And Minho maybe didn’t deserve it but Jisung hugged him anyway, “ shh , it’s fine.”
“I’m sorry.” Minho echoed, hiding his face in Jisung’s chest.
“ Hey ,” Jisung huffed, one hand on his hair and patting his head, “we survived alone before you, you’re not special.”
He knew it–
“I know I’m not.”
“But to me,” Jisung finished, tilting Minho’s head up to meet his eyes, “you kind of are.”
He was special?
He shouldn’t be, Jisung and his son deserved better than him, he wasn’t sure why Jisung… maybe they both deserved something different, but they found each other.
And it wasn’t the best happening during the end of times but Minho felt relieved to have someone else to share that burden with, Jisung was a dream and Minho was lucky, he was just not the type to admit how much he needed that warmth.
Jisung kept him close, thumbs caressing his cheeks softly and then giggling at the way his son ran around the mattress to find a place to sleep as well, of course running to his father’s side in the end.
“You truly need to calm down,” Jisung softly smiled, “you’re not alone.”
Maybe that was the real problem: being alone was easy, it was disgustingly isolating but safer, even if Minho’s heart was aching only at the thought of being separated by them again, shit .
Minho pouted, making Jisung giggle again and then he leaned closer, lips finding his cheek gently cupped by those rough hands consumed by time.
The kiss was very soft on his skin but Minho liked it that way.
Minho was about to say something but then he noticed the kid moving around and stopped himself.
The next moment Jeongin pushed in between them, scooting next to his father more but his hand was pulling Minho’s hand.
Shit .
He couldn’t leave them behind. Never.
He got so attached to them, but Minho for once liked it.
He liked these two, which was the worst because he didn’t have a choice anymore. And he didn’t want to, he wanted to protect them, a thing that was… incredibly fine.