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English
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Published:
2015-12-25
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There's a Light in the Hallway (Burning All Night Long)

Summary:

You won't need me forever, but I'll still be here. For we all have our nightmares, even me my dear.

Notes:

merry christmas have some angst

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

They say dying is the worst thing that can happen to a human being but many know the truth of the fact that dying is not the worst thing that can happen. Having someone you love die is the worst thing. Those who die do not experience grief, they do not feel loss, anger, sadness, emptiness. They do not think of those who are left behind, they can’t. Those who die are not the victims. Those who live are.

They had met in primary school, Taehyung being in the year above with the goal to befriend everyone and Jeongguk the little five year old who liked to sit on his own during break and draw frenzied cartoons on a piece of paper. Taehyung had said his drawing was cool and Jeongguk blushed, flattered and proud of himself. Taehyung asked if he could watch him draw and Jeongguk agreed, it became a daily thing for Taehyung to watch Jeongguk push the crayons onto the paper in a methodically messy way. They never planned on becoming friends, it just happened.

When they were children, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk played with their dinosaur toys and learned how to read from small books that had cartoon drawings of dogs and kids. They got dirty in the mud, grazed their knees on the concrete, shot each other with imaginary bullets, flew around like superheroes and laughed until they were so tired they collapsed for a daily nap with empty boxed of juice and half eaten animal crackers. When they were pre-teens they read comics under their bed covers late at night, had sleep overs which consisted of staying up until they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore, play fighting in the living room until someone got hurt, rode bikes to the park and played on the old creaky swing set. It was innocent and simple, complicated things like love didn’t exist, cooties did. You didn’t have to worry about anything other than what order A, B and C were in.

When they were teenagers, stuck in an awkward in between phase, something seemed to change. Had Jeongguk always been that tall? Did Taehyung always smile like the sun lived inside of him? Were they always attracted to each other or was it just hormones? These young problematic years were spent confused, when there were troubles they would always go to each other, run to each other’s houses and sit up under the covers just talking using their phones for lighting. If Taehyung had gotten detention, Jeongguk would wait for him. When Taehyung accidentally got into a fist fight because someone was picking on his friend, Jeongguk had told him off with a sigh and helped tend to the cuts. When Jeongguk panicked about having to present a speech in assembly, Taehyung had given him ridiculous advice and two thumbs up which made Jeongguk a lot less nervous. Jeongguk was always there for Taehyung no matter what, and Taehyung was always there for Jeongguk. The only thing they never spoke about was the feelings they were harbouring for each other, neither of them knew what it was and they were too scared to ruin what they had to speak up. Something Taehyung had found out during these years was that his family had a strong dislike toward ‘faggots’, people who were gay. People like Taehyung. Knowing his parents were homophobic made everything that much worse, seeing Jeongguk every day and having this weird urge to kiss him made him feel guilty, he wanted to hit himself and scream because it was wrong but he didn’t want it to be wrong, he couldn’t force his feelings away any more than he couldn’t deny his own DNA. Sometimes he would be watching a show on the TV and a homosexual celebrity would appear, his parents would snort and mutter under their breaths, cursing and damning. Those were the days he would text Jeongguk and Jeongguk would come running over, climb through his window and just hold him until he fell asleep. It was one of those nights when Jeongguk realised he wasn’t confused, he knew he was head over heels for his best friend and he knew Taehyung felt the same way but he wasn’t going to push anything, by this point he had already come out to his own parents, they said they loved him and that was all that mattered. He wishes it would be the same for Taehyung but not everyone is so lucky. Instead of asking Taehyung what happened whenever the elder called him over, Jeongguk would sing. He would sing Taehyung a lullaby, relax him and send a peaceful melody through his mind, coaxing him to a gentle sleep. When Taehyung fell asleep, Jeongguk would leave, climbing out the window again but not before switching the light on in the hallway. Taehyung had been scared of the dark since they were kids, he had an over active imagination and would swear he could see something in his room and it terrified him to the point where he used to stay up all night in paranoia before collapsing the next day somewhere around lunch from exhaustion. So Jeongguk always left the light on. He opened the bedroom door and let the light shine into Taehyung’s room, mind at ease knowing that if Taehyung were to wake up during the night he wouldn’t be left alone in the dark.

It was Jeongguk’s 18th birthday when the longing gazes, the soft touches, the fluttering and tightening of their chest’s whenever they held each other in silence on those long nights could no longer be ignored. Taehyung had bought him a watch he’d been eyeing up but never had the money to buy, it had taken a whole summer job to save and left him with no money to spare but it was worth it to see the way Jeongguk’s face lit up in gratitude. When everyone had left, Jeongguk dragged Taehyung up to his room, they stood in the middle of the teenager’s bedroom, something unfamiliar but not unwelcome settling in the air. They stared at each other, somehow knowing what was about to happen but testing to see who would be the first to open their mouths and admit it. It was Jeongguk. It was always Jeongguk. The boy had no filter and Taehyung just clenched his fists and waited for the words he’d secretly been longing to hear but they never came, instead he had cold hands cup his warm cheeks and soft lips press against his own trembling ones. They didn’t say anything, they just kissed and let it all fall into place, four years of confusion and pining coming to a sudden halt but it felt right. Taehyung let his hands wrap around Jeongguk’s wrists and the kiss grew deeper, needier until they were just breathing into each other’s mouths. A hesitant question lingering over them that they didn’t know how to answer with words, so Jeongguk asked with his hands and Taehyung replied ‘yes’ with his eyes. They spent Jeongguk’s 18th birthday night tangled together messily, awkwardly but lovingly. It wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t like the movies but it was right, it was bliss and Taehyung’s whole body thrummed in adoration. After a few days, it was Jeongguk who suggested they tell Taehyung’s parents, it was Jeongguk who promised to be there no matter what, it was Jeongguk who held his hand when his father shouted at him, when his mother sat in silence, when his father threw the family picture at him, when his mother whispered for him to leave, when they told him he was no longer their son. It was Jeongguk who told him it was going to be okay, who made his home Taehyung’s home, who sang him to sleep and turned the light on but this time, Jeongguk didn’t leave through the window. This time Jeongguk stayed.

It took a while for Taehyung to feel better about the situation and Jeongguk was patient with him during it all, and Taehyung couldn’t have been more thankful. Eventually things got better, they were happy. Taehyung was happy. Truly. Jeongguk’s parents doted on him like he had always been a part of the family (which was partially true considering how often Taehyung came round growing up), he had gotten a job to save up for university and Jeongguk also grabbed a gig at a new club that paid very nicely. Things were stable, everything was clear now.

It was late December when their safe haven cracked.

Jeongguk had a late shift, much to Taehyung displeasure and he had joked around, asking Jeongguk to call in sick but Jeongguk was serious about his work and just kissed Taehyung’s nose and promised to be back as soon as he could. Taehyung had let him go. They said goodbye and Taehyung waited. He occupied himself with the laptop, browsing the internet and watching random videos to pass the time, it was around 3am when his phone buzzed and it was Jeongguk telling him he was now on his way, Taehyung had smiled and replied eagerly. He waited. It was 3:20 when Taehyung felt strange, he sent Jeongguk another text, asking where he was. No answer. He tried again, no answer. He rang, no answer. He texted again and again, called Jeongguk again and again for at least ten minutes before the sinking feeling in his stomach started to make him feel sick. Something was wrong. He rang his close friend, Jimin, apologising for calling at such a time but this was an emergency, something was terribly wrong and Taehyung was scared, more scared now than he had ever been in his entire life. He would rather sit in the dark for the rest of his years than experience this feeling ever again. Jimin was understanding, he tried to calm Taehyung down and told him to get some shoes on because he was going to drive him to the club.

Jimin held Taehyung’s hand during the ride, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles to soothe him but it wasn’t working, Taehyung was trembling, biting his lip frantically as he looked outside to try and spot his lover. The car slowed to a stop, along with Taehyung’s breathing, as an ambulance and police car came into view. Taehyung had been frightened before but this was something different, this was true fear, he had a cold sweat, his hand clammy in Jimin’s grip, his heart in his throat, thumping violently. He didn’t want to get out of the car. If he moved he might throw up from nerves. Jimin told him to wait, voice quiet and apprehensive, he left Taehyung and walked to the scene. There was no crowd of people, no loud noises, no shouting, nothing. It was like everything had stopped and the only thing he could see was the way Jimin brought a hand up to his mouth and knelt over, other hand gripping his stomach. Taehyung’s heart dropped. He opened the car door and flung himself out, Jimin rushed over to him and pushed him away, told him to get back in the car, told him not to look, begged him not to. Taehyung was panting, his teeth gritted as he struggled against his friend, he won however and bolted over to where he saw a paramedic crouched on the ground.

Everything did stop.

His breathing, his heartbeat – everything. All he could see was a body. Wide, lifeless eyes, sickly coloured skin, mouth lulled open, black hair matted in red, blood everywhere, glass shards scattered on the ground and piercing the dull skin. All he could see was a dead body. Jeongguk’s dead body. He hyperventilated, his stomach lurching, and he turned away and vomited, muscles constricting painfully as he gagged and spluttered, coughing everything up. He looked at his own sick, refusing to look anywhere else, and he felt Jimin grab his arm but he didn’t move. He heard a policeman ask Jimin a question but he couldn’t hear anything, all he knew was that whatever Jimin said made the man leave. Taehyung straightened up and wiped his mouth, his eyes were squinted shut and he told himself that what he saw wasn’t real, that if he looked back now it would be a different picture. So he did, he looked back and what he saw wasn’t a different picture but it was somehow worse, a sob tore through his throat and his knees wobbled, a mantra of ‘no’ leaving his lips and Jimin pulled him in for a hug. It made him cry harder, he screamed. He saw another paramedic leave the ambulance, a man looking solemn with his jaw set. He had a body bag. Jimin sobbed quietly and Taehyung cried out again, his legs failing him and he fell to the ground. He wanted to crawl over, wanted to yell at them to try harder, to save Jeongguk but he was frozen in place, the only thing he was able to do was cry and scream. He heard the bag unzip and Jimin gripped him tighter, having knelt down beside him. He buried his head in Jimin’s neck, gripping his shirt desperately and pressing against him, Jimin held a hand over his head, fingers brushing against his ear. The bag zipped back up and Taehyung crumbled.

 

~~~~

 

The only thing worse than seeing Jeongguk’s body at the scene was seeing his body at the funeral. Taehyung had been staying with Jimin, refusing to go back home even though without Jeongguk it couldn’t possibly be considered home, and if it wasn’t for Jimin and his boyfriend, Taehyung would never have gone to the funeral anyway. He had locked himself in the bathroom, having a mental breakdown and screaming about how he couldn’t go, that it wasn’t fair, and Jimin had gotten his boyfriend to break the lock to let him talk Taehyung into it. It might help you. He said. It didn’t help. As soon as Taehyung walked up to the coffin to place his flowers and saw Jeongguk’s face made up to look peaceful and stitched together to look normal, he broke down again. He dropped the flowers and ran out, eyes wide and frantic, sobbing hysterically. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, he’d never be ready to say goodbye. Jeongguk’s parents had found him sitting on the floor in front of the toilets with his knees up to his chest, they told him it was okay, he didn’t have to be ready, he was allowed all the time he needed no matter how long that was. They told him to come home.

He wasn’t ready for anything. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, he wasn’t ready to grieve, he wasn’t ready to move on and he wasn’t ready to go home. He hated how nice everyone was, how everyone treated him delicately like he was going to break. The idea seemed alien to Taehyung, if something is already broke, how can you worry about breaking it again?

Going home was something he needed to do however, he may be grief-stricken and not thinking clearly but he knew what was best even if it wasn’t what he wanted. When Taehyung found the courage to return home, his shaky legs carried him through the same hallway he’d been down hundreds of time but it was like he didn’t recognise anything, the wallpaper, the floorboards, nothing. Nothing seemed the same. The reality of the situation doesn’t really hit you until you’re met with complete and utter silence, not even the wind is making a sound but Taehyung wasn’t sure if that was true or if his ears were blocking out every sound that wasn’t the one he craved to hear, the silence choked him and he stood in front of the closed door, lungs constricting and eyes stinging. His fingertips curled around the cold doorknob and he almost retracted his hand in fear, his heart thumped in its cage and suddenly all he could hear was a loud ringing. Every muscle in his entire body trembled and his eyebrows were knitted together so tightly it ached, it took every ounce of his strength to turn the handle, to the push the door open. It creaked open, revealing inch by inch everything Taehyung didn’t want to see. Those stupid movie posters above the dresser, the pile of clothes near the mirror, the open laptop sitting on a desk decorated with figurines and a rubix cube. Taehyung let out a sharp breath, hand falling to his side and he was stuck. He couldn’t move from where he was standing, his whole body stilled apart from his eyes which frantically darted around the obnoxiously bright room and every single item shot a pang of grief into his chest and he almost fell from the force. The large window in the corner of the room lit up when Taehyung made himself flick the light on and he stared at it, it was dark outside and Taehyung’s face reflected in the glass. Except, it’s not a reflection. A reflection is a mirror image of you but the person staring back isn’t Taehyung. He didn’t know who the man in the window was, who the owner of the heavy dark circles, cracked lips, sunken cheeks and dull eyes was. He was an empty shell, a hollow entity. A stranger.

He couldn’t look anymore, he turned the light off and was enveloped in darkness. He didn’t have the energy to be frightened anymore and he hadn’t put the light on since Jeongguk was last here… He also hadn’t slept properly since Jeongguk was last here either, his nights consisted of too much thinking, wetting the pillow and his cheeks, and trying to ignore the paranoia in his head that screamed at him. There’s something there. Don’t look! I can feel something. Don’t look! Did you hear that? Don’t look! Don’t look! Don’t look! A mantra in his head that wouldn’t shut up and oddly enough, Taehyung found himself welcoming the fear, it distracted him briefly from the blinding reality that Jeongguk wasn't here and wasn't coming back. There was no one to comfort him, to hold him, to sing to him. Biting the inside of his cheek, he dragged his feet across the carpet and climbed onto the bed, not caring he was still in his clothes.

The sheets still smelled like Jeongguk. It made Taehyung feel sick how he pathetically buried his face in the pillow, desperate to feel connected, to feel something other than grief and numbness. His fingers gripped the soft pillow so tightly his knuckles turned white, he was kneeling but his legs fell onto the mattress and he brought them up until he was lying in a foetal position. His left hand slipped under the pillow and his fingers brushed against a discarded shirt, he inhaled sharply. It was one of Jeongguk’s habits that used to drive Taehyung nuts – stashing used shirts under the pillow so he didn’t have to wash them. Taehyung desperately pulled it out and clutched it to his chest, eyes squinted shut as he held it to face. He doesn’t know when he started crying. All he knows is that now he can’t stop, the tears rack through him like an earthquake and it’s loud and ugly and a mess but Taehyung can’t bring himself to care. Crying and screaming at least alleviated the pressure in his chest somewhat, it was so heavy and tiring. It’ll be like this forever. He thought. There was no real freedom from grief. You can’t move on. Life isn’t the same, it’s not supposed to be, something’s missing and no amount of therapy or determination will ever remedy that. People aren’t objects, you can’t just replace them. If they break you can’t just fix them, they won’t ever be the same after they break, even if they try, if they think they are. Even if they ‘move’ on.

He stayed like that for so long, he didn’t keep track of time anymore but he knew it must be the middle of the night. When he had come back, Jeongguk’s parents were watching the TV, a show they all used to watch together that came on at 11pm. He was thankful they didn’t talk to him, they sent him a smile and let him walk upstairs, and they didn’t pester him with questions. Their door was always open for him, this house was as much a home to Taehyung as it had been for Jeongguk and they knew Jeongguk would not have wanted Taehyung to be alone, to leave. Taehyung sniffed, the shirt damp, he sighed heavily and looked up.
      “I hate this.” He stuttered, whimpering and shaking all over still. “You didn’t fucking deserve this.” He cried, curling up even tighter, hugging himself and the shirt. “I can’t do this…” Taehyung choked out, eyes shut, and eyelashes wet and lumped together. A shiver ran up his spine, like cold fingertips and he breathed in sharply. The window wasn’t open but there was a breeze, blowing ever so lightly on his hair and Taehyung felt his heart twist. He thought of Jeongguk’s voice, his song.
If you’re scared of the darkness, I will calm your fear. The melody played through his head as he had done a million times for the past weeks, it never sounded the same though. It frustrated him how he couldn’t get his brain to replicate the smooth voice exactly but tonight was different for some reason. It was as though Jeongguk was there, behind him, next to him, and singing to him again. He bit his lip and sighed, his ears perked up because it sounded so real. It sounded so real he thought he was going crazy. Everything will be okay, you are not alone. You are right at home. Another gentle gust of wind swept through his body, he felt light and calm for the first time in a while. He was scared to move, worried that it would stop. His spine tingled and his left arm felt cold, like something was running along it, he held his breath. Goodnight, goodnight. He opened his eyes a little, expecting to see black but he saw the desk. He swallowed another sob and cast his eyes downwards and there was a light. The hallway light was on.

Notes:

why am i such a depressing little shit

inspired by 'Light in the Hallway' by Pentatonix.

** I wrote this all in one sitting when the idea hit me so if it's not very well written, that's why aha but I just really wanted to write this, I feel like it's too short but idk **
also i didn't know if I should rate this or not but since I'm not sure what rating to give it I'll leave it unrated because it's a bit dark...