Work Text:
“Did you hear?”
Minho is getting older, because stylist noonas are no longer noonas, some of the new ones are younger than him. This one particularly, is basically trembling as she applies powder on his face, another staff member standing close and keeping busy on their phone.
“Hear what?”
Minho is also getting less and less interested in things that happen around him, unless they concern him personally. It’s probably another sign of getting older.
“That the world is ending.”
A whisper, and a shake of hands that causes powder to shoot up Minho’s nose. He coughs and she spends a whole minute apologizing. But the damage is done, Minho is now invested in the conversation.
“The world is what?”
“They say an asteroid is hitting earth some time tonight.”
- - - -
The morning continues as scheduled. Cameras and scripts and keeping your mouth closed while you eat. The task of enjoying food and putting on a show is a little more difficult when Minho sees the people around him whispering between each other and disappearing one by one from the room. He doesn’t know if the members haven’t heard, or if the rumor is just a rumor. He doesn’t say anything.
His phone is always kept on silent. It’s work etiquette, not to disturb the other people in the room with the buzzing of notifications. He only checks it while Jeongin is getting his hair fixed.
Minho, is it true?
He doesn’t know if all parents become like this when their children are no longer children, but his parents rely on him a lot, even though he’s constantly busy and away. They rely on him for confirmations on news and sometimes analyzing late scientific discoveries too, as if his time allows him to keep up with that.
The only way he knows to deal with someone panicking, is to not add to it. Minho takes a breath.
What is?
It’s then that one of the managers walks in, and the look on his face gives it away before he says anything. It’s not true that time slows down when something like this happens, because everything happens so fast. Still, Minho’s eyes find Jisung just as the manager starts to speak. And Jisung’s eyes, as they never fail to be, are on him.
“We’re going to stop shooting. There’s an emergency.”
- - - -
Minho doesn’t like to assume his understanding of the members is always right, but it’s always a little disappointing when something they do proves to be different than his expectations. He would’ve guessed it would be Yongbok or Hyunjin to cry first, but it’s actually Seungmin. It’s quick, a strangled sound and a few tears that he rushes to wipe away. Like a slip before he realizes and recomposes himself. Minho thinks it’s probably because he drank too much and slept too little. He watches Changbin wrap him in his arms.
It’s chaos after that, staff members flying around the villa. Phones ringing and tears falling and unanswered questions thrown around. Minho can’t keep up with it all. He hasn’t moved from where he was since the shooting stopped. Jeongin sits beside him on the couch.
“Hyung, is the world really ending?”
From the corner of his eye, Minho sees Jisung, sitting with his knees to his chest. Minho’s guesses about other members might be a hit and miss sometimes, but they’re never wrong about Jisung.
He notices Changbin standing close, and he wonders why he isn’t near Jisung, why he isn’t comforting him. Minho would wrap him in his arms and keep him there until it’s all over, if he were allowed to anymore.
“It appears so.”
Jeongin seems put together still. Minho tries to find the others but he only sees Changbin talking on his phone, and Jisung on the other couch. Miles seem to separate them, but Minho is only further away.
“So, now what?”
- - - -
“If you knew the world was ending, what would you do?”
Minho didn’t particularly like entertaining these hypothetical questions, he only did it because Jisung asked them, more often than not when they’re like this, sprawled out on the bed with nothing but a few inches between their bodies.
“Kiss the person I love.”
Jisung looks at him and there’s a flicker in his eyes that scares Minho. One of vulnerability and hope. Minho feels breathless.
“And say fuck it to the diet and eat whatever I want.”
Jisung laughs, his hand lays flat on Minho’s chest, where his heart is speeding up at the touch. The flicker in his eyes is still there, and Minho is still breathless.
“Who would believe you’re the romantic one between us.”
- - - -
In all honesty, there are many places Minho would rather be during the end of the world. He’d rather be with his family. He’d rather see his parents and his grandma and his cats. If an asteroid is going to hit earth and destroy and burn everything, Minho would rather be in his childhood bed, not in some fancy villa that he’s only stepped into yesterday.
Many years ago, Jisung told him the cheesiest line he’s ever heard to date, when he was missing his family and feeling exhausted after one too many sleepless nights. Home is something you carry in your heart, he said, and Minho laughed and went to sleep with Jisung playing with his hair. And he woke up the next day for more exhaustion and more longing.
He notices Jisung drinking his third cup of coffee in less than an hour. He notices his hands shaking. Minho closes his eyes.
“Minho-yah, I need your help.”
It’s not often that Chan asks for his help, what with his severe case of taking every responsibility upon his own shoulder. And even when that fails him, coming to Minho isn’t always his first thought. When there’s a music related problem, he has Changbin and Jisung to turn to, when he’s homesick, he has Felix. There’s not a lot that Minho can offer Chan that no one else can.
“Some of the staff are leaving. Many are freaking out. We should help them figure out how to get home.” He pauses. Minho watches his chest inflate, and then deflate. “And we should gather the members to decide what we want to do.”
- - - -
Jisung doesn’t startle when Minho sneaks his way under the covers. It’s been a long day, and it’s this kind of day that sees Minho leaving the comfort of his bed in favor of Jisung’s company.
They don’t say anything for a while, Jisung watches something on his phone and Minho watches his chest rise and fall.
“Do you have any regrets?”
It’s too quiet at that time of the night that Minho fears even Jisung’s tiny whisper would wake Jeongin up. He never seems to mind even when he does wake up because of them. But Minho prefers the intimacy of it being just them. It’s the closest they can get to being actually alone. And it’s not close at all.
“I’m too busy to think about the past.”
This is one of the reasons it can only be Jisung for him. Because no one else would know that he doesn’t mean what he said in a wise, at-peace kind of way. Only Jisung understands that what he means is just that he’s too busy, too tired.
“Do you want a massage?”
Minho thinks he’s doing just fine, but there are moments where he feels like he can’t stop himself from melting at the touch. There are moments where he feels like he can’t hold back and pretend.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Minho answers, closing his eyes, snuggling closer. “For now, just-”
He takes Jisung’s arm and wraps it around him. Falls asleep to the sound of his steady breaths.
- - - -
It’s been a while since the eight of them sat together without it being for some program or video. They’d been busy with the comeback and their separate dorms made it more demanding of a task to gather all together in their free time. Minho’s eyes sweep across the room, the door closed and the beds tidied. The two blue triangles are still on the wall.
There’s a lot Minho sees on their faces, a lot of uncertainty, a lot of fear. Of course there is. But there’s also something else, something he recognizes in his own self.
Acceptance. Or at least that’s what he hopes it is. Maybe it’s resignation.
“I’m staying here.”
He starts when Chan seems to contemplate what to say a little too much. He hates that the first thing he notices is Jisung’s eyes shooting up to him. He averts his gaze.
“We likely won’t be able to travel anyway. Besides, even if some of us can go to be with their families, some of us can’t.”
It’s then that Yongbok starts crying. Chan’s face falls too. And Changbin’s. Jisung is still staring at him.
“Can we all stay here? I want us all to stay here.”
Yongbok’s voice is weak and wet. Minho thinks no one else would get away with such a request without it sounding selfish or unreasonable. They all know how much he loves him.
“I’m staying too.” Says Changbin.
“Me too.” Says Seungmin, and then Jeongin.
Hyunjin only nods, his face hidden under his cap. And Jisung is still staring.
“I’m staying here too.”
- - - -
“Hyung, where will you take me on our honeymoon?”
They’re backstage after a performance, panting and sweating and surrounded by people who, surely, won’t think of Jisung’s joke as anything but a joke. But still-
“We’re not married.”
Jisung laughs, pokes his cheek. Minho doesn’t feel like joking around.
Jisung must have got it, because he deflates and leans back in his chair. “I was just kidding.”
Sometimes, the touching and the teasing is enough for Minho, because he gets to be the source of Jisung’s comfort, and he gets to be the reason for Jisung's laughter, even if it’s just for a few moments. But sometimes.
Sometimes it’s too much.
“I’m sorry, jagi. Bad mood.”
Jisung shakes his head, but the guilt has already made its way to Minho’s heart. It always does.
- - - -
Things start happening. End-of-the-world kind of things. Strong wind and angry clouds in the sky. The living area downstairs suddenly looks much darker despite the huge glass screens. Minho’s eyes keep finding Jisung, hunched over his phone, reading news articles and relaying them.
“Apparently it’s affecting the earth’s magnetic field, or something.”
Minho wonders why the control he has over his glances falls closer to the control he has over his thoughts, than that of his actions. There have been many times he found he had to keep his eyes closed to stop them from looking back at Jisung, especially when Jisung’s eyes were so full of that pain that Minho hated himself for causing.
“Do you think it’ll be quick, or will we have to suffer through it?”
Jisung looks up at Changbin, who notices the weight his question holds and makes a U turn.
“Why isn’t it a zombie apocalypse?”
“Hyung, you’d be the first to die in a zombie apocalypse anyway.”
They both laugh. Then they go quiet.
- - - -
Hyunjin and Yongbok are nowhere to be found. Chan looks like he’s on the verge of collapsing. Minho can’t believe it’s his last day on earth and he’s worrying himself with the troubles of all the members and staff.
“Hyung, do you want some tea?”
Chan looks at him with a smile, and Minho is reminded of the time they had to rearrange a whole year’s schedule because of covid. A moment passes where all he can think about is the insignificance of everything.
Almost everything.
Seungmin walks into the living room dragging his feet. He plops down on the couch.
“There’s a group of scientists saying it might just miss earth.”
“How likely is that?”
The question is directed at Jisung, as if he has a certificate from NASA just because he watches a few too many documentaries.
“I don’t think even the scientists know.” Jisung answers.
“I’m just saying,” Seungmin continues, “don’t go around making heartfelt confessions because you might wake up tomorrow and realize they won’t be erased.”
Somehow, Minho gets the feeling Seungmin’s eyes are on him as he says that.
- - - -
Minho locks himself in a room and sits on a bed. His mother picks up after two rings. Her voice is panicked. Minho wishes he could hug her.
“It’s gonna be okay.” He says, which may or may not be a lie, apparently.
“Is dad here too?”
“Yes, baby.”
He cries. They all cry. He really wishes he could be with them. He really hopes it’s not the end. It’s the stupid human instinct. Even if he’s an atheist. Please god, give me one more chance, one more day, I promise I’ll be good.
“Are you proud of me?”
He never asks this question, because he doesn’t want his parents to know it haunts him as much as it does. But it would be nice to hear it, now. Nice to be assured.
“So, so much.”
Another tear falls.
- - - -
“I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot.”
“Explain.”
It’s barely six in the morning, the air still chilly and the sun barely out. Jisung looks beautiful like this, smiling and sleepy and tucked into him. Minho risks another glance, risks a kiss on the top of his head. Jisung giggles.
“I used to be a loser, you know. I had no friends. And now someone as beautiful and amazing as Lee Minho thinks I’m cool. I just can’t believe I’m lucky enough that you like me.”
Something claws at Minho’s chest. Equal parts warm and terrifying. Jisung has no idea, how full Minho is with that something. He has no idea how scared Minho is sometimes that his love will overflow so much it drowns Jisung, that it will burst out of him in ugly flames and drive Jisung away.
Minho pinches Jisung and he whimpers. “I told you never to undersell yourself. You’re beautiful and amazing Han Jisung-”
It’s not the first time Minho’s been in love. But he can’t compare it to anything else he’s experienced before, because there never was anything similar. It never made him want to consume someone and want them to consume him whole. It never made him feel like he was choking with it. It never made him scared.
“And you’re still a loser.”
- - - -
He finds Yongbok asleep on Hyunjin’s lap, their eyes both puffy. He sits down quietly on the edge of the bed and finds Hyunjin’s hand, wraps it in his own.
“It sucks, doesn’t it?” Hyunjin whispers. “That this is the end?”
Minho’s problem isn’t the end. It’s things that came before the end. Though if the world is ending, none of it will matter. None of his troubles will remain.
The thought should be comforting, freeing.
“Hyung, are you okay?”
Minho can’t get himself to look up, not when he knows why Hyunjin is asking him this.
Hyunjin’s hand squeezes his.
- - - -
“I wish I understood why.”
Minho sees him losing balance and doesn’t dare reach out to steady him. Jisung grips the edge of the sink. Knuckles white.
Alcohol is always a mistake. Especially when it leads to this, Jisung seeking him out with no one else around, with nowhere else to run. The running water is the only thing filling the silence for a while. Minho regrets drinking. He regrets not drinking enough.
“You should drink some water, Jisung.”
“Don’t.” Jisung says. His eyes are round and beautiful and so far out of Minho’s reach. His lips quiver. “Don’t act like you want to take care of me.”
Act.
Minho shuts the water. The room starts spinning. An hour after his last drink, for some reason.
“I do.”
I still do. I always will. I would melt myself into liquid for you to drink and sober up. I would jump off a mountain cliff so my sacrificed soul would linger on earth to protect you.
“Why, hyung?”
He doesn’t look at Jisung. He can’t look at Jisung.
“I need to know. Please, hyung. Why don’t you love me?”
Minho throws up.
- - - -
Changbin is watching by the glass door. There’s orange lightning tearing the sky open. Everything is draped in a yellow hue. It’s almost beautiful. Changbin notices him and takes a step closer.
“You know, whenever I was faced with a difficult decision, I would ask myself; is this something I would regret on my deathbed?”
It’s such a Changbin thing to say. Minho smiles and he knows Changbin is smart enough that he gets it. Changbin smiles too.
“I like to think I lived a life I’m proud of.”
Minho lunges forward and hugs him. Changbin startles because that’s only happened a handful of times in the years they’ve known each other. But this isn’t like any other day, anyway. Minho fists the back of Changbin’s shirt, punches it.
“Why is it in past tense? You’re still here. We’re still alive.”
- - - -
He Joins Seungmin near the pool. The wind is blowing through the water and Minho can’t believe it’s the same place they played and swam around just yesterday. He can’t believe it’ll be gone. All of it.
Seungmin doesn’t say anything for a while. For years, it used to scare Minho, how much Seungmin seemed to see through him.
“I would go back to middle school and hit my bully in the face.” Seungmin says.
Minho touches the water and it’s cold. They’re on an island, he suddenly remembers.
“If I can go back in time and change something, I mean.”
Minho hums.
“It’s normal to think about these things at a time like this, hyung. It doesn’t mean you're weak.”
He hums again. Seungmin laughs.
- - - -
“I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Hyunjin retreats from the room to reveal Chan standing by the door. Looming in like a father coming to collect his son from a house party in the middle of the night.
“Damn you, Hwang Hyunjin!”
His head throbs when he yells. He presses his thumbs on his temples and it doesn’t get better.
“I’ll be okay.” He says when Chan sits on the bed, before Chan gets a chance to open his mouth.
“Jisung isn’t any better.”
The name makes his head throb again. Why is it too much to ask to suffer through a hangover and a heartbreak by himself?
Maybe because the source of both is tied to him through a group of six other people and millions of fans.
“He’ll be okay too.”
He’ll be better. He’ll be better without me.
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
Minho can’t answer that. He couldn’t answer Jisung himself when he asked him, his eyes teary, his hands still trying to hold on.
Minho curls into himself. It’s not something he can say. Not something he can admit. It’ll sound ridiculous, claiming it’s because he loves him too much, saying that he knows sometimes he grips too tight it bruises, and he wants Jisung bruise-free.
“It’s better this way.”
- - - -
Yongbok drops himself completely on him. Minho chuckles despite the wetness he feels on his shoulder.
“Are you going around saying your farewells?”
He gets punched and then hugged tighter. “Don’t say that, hyung. Maybe it’ll be okay.”
Minho hums.
“Thank you, Minho hyung.”
“What for?” He asks, though he knows.
It’s another while before Yongbok speaks again. Minho doesn’t rush him.
The wind forces a window open. Yongbok buries himself deeper in Minho’s chest.
“We’ve been lucky.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so glad you were a part of it.”
- - - -
Jeongin still looks put together, but he keeps biting his lip as he scrolls through his phone. Minho wonders if they’ll lose connection soon.
He looks up from his phone when Minho sits down. He stops biting his lip.
“Hyung, you don’t believe in god.”
“No, I don’t.”
Out of all of them, Jeongin has always felt the most like his younger brother.
“So what do you think will happen after this?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that scary?”
Minho pauses. “It doesn’t have to be.”
Chan enters the room like he’s in a rush. Minho can’t for the life of him think of anything that might be worth rushing to do.
The thought catches him by surprise. He gets up before he can think further.
“Chan hyung.”
He looks tired. Minho doesn’t remember the last time he wasn’t tired.
“Talk to me.”
Chan smiles. Sometimes Minho thinks they share that something beneath their skin. The kind that boils until it burns and threatens to wipe out everything in its way. The kind that’s self-destructive.
The difference is, Chan divides his love and fear to members and family and friends and fans.
They’ve closed all the doors and windows. Everything is painted a sad tint of yellow. The rustling of the wind isn’t angry anymore. It’s melodic, ceremonial. It must be getting closer.
“Are you sure I’m the one you want to be talking to?”
- - - -
It’s the third night in a row. The sound echoes through the room and bounces off the walls of Minho’s chest. Minho thinks he’ll finally break, then he reminds himself not to. It’s for the best.
Seungmin materializes on the edge of his bed. He laughs when Minho startles, like he knows he was lost in thought and his sudden appearance has interrupted them.
“I’d be equally excited and terrified to see jealous Minho, but he was just in the studio. He always is.”
Minho busies himself folding laundry. “I know.”
“Changbin hyung said he’s written five songs then shredded them all and tossed them away.”
Minho hums. Folds another shirt that he isn’t sure if it belongs to the pile of dirty or clean clothes. What a horrifying thought, being immortalized in a song like this.
“What are you hoping to accomplish by this? I know you know he loves you back.”
It doesn’t surprise Minho that Seungmin says ‘love you back’. Because Minho’s love for Jisung is not debatable. It's written all over his face. The members see it. The fans see it. Surely, Jisung sees it too.
“Seungmin-ah.” He starts, then immediately wants to back out of talking about this but it’s too late. “Have you ever shown your soul to someone only for them to tell you it’s hideous and scary and walk out on you.”
He expects the confession to stagger Seungmin. Instead he looks almost annoyed.
“You’re an idiot for thinking Jisung would ever see you as anything other than beautiful. I can sit here and try to convince you all night, but I won’t. Go talk to him and see for yourself.”
- - - -
He’s sitting by the window in a room upstairs. He doesn’t look scared, only sad. If Minho’s life is to flash before his eyes in a few hours before he dies, he doesn’t want it to end with this scene.
Minho sits on the edge of the bed. Jisung doesn’t startle, doesn’t look his way. Maybe he still senses him. Maybe it’s because they’re-
“I’m scared.” He admits. Only to him. Only to Jisung.
Jisung finally looks at him. He smiles.
“I know.”
Minho doesn’t say anything else. He shifts closer and Jisung holds his hand.
The power goes out. The room suddenly pitch black and silent. Minho hears their breaths, in sync. He doesn’t say anything.
Jisung turns his phone’s flashlight on and places it in a corner facing up. Minho can only make out the outline of his face but it doesn’t matter. Every subtle feature is imprinted in Minho’s memory, every detail will remain until Minho’s last breath.
It’s getting closer. And Minho realizes, every second that passes is a second closer to the end, a second wasted.
“Jisung.” He whispers, because it’s quiet and dark and because the world is ending and maybe it won’t matter but it does .
“I love you.”
Jisung closes his eyes and breathes. Minho sees a tear and he kisses his cheek as it falls.
“Why did you push me away, hyung?”
Minho used to think of a thousand reason, but none of them matter anymore.
“I’m sorry.” He says. “Is it too late to ask you to hold me?”
It’s as calming as ever when Jisung hugs him, Minho’s whole world shrinking down to only two arms wrapped tightly around him. They stay like that for a while, lightning and wind and the end of the world outside of the window in front of them, and nothing but warmth inside.
“Jagi,” Jisung starts, his voice sweet and low, “thank you for telling me. I love you too. You know that, don’t you?”
Minho knows that. He does.
He tilts his head up and kisses Jisung. Slowly, carefully because every moment might be the last. He breathes him in and tastes him and he thinks it’s happening, he’s overflowing and bursting into flames and Jisung stills kisses him, still holds him close.
There’s a knock on the door that forces them apart. Hyunjin has a smile on his face. “Come downstairs.” He says.
Chan and Yongbok are making ramen in a giant pot on a portable gas stove. The room is lit by candles scattered in the corners. Changbin is tucked between Seungmin and Jeongin resting on his shoulders. There’s quiet peace settling everywhere. Minho’s hand still holding Jisung’s, they go to sit down.