Work Text:
The first thing he noticed was the smell, putrid and sweet both at the same time, burning his nostrils and making his eyes well. And he was sure, if his stomach had something in it, he would've hurled everything out right then and there. But he was figuratively and literally empty, and wasn’t that bizarre? He couldn’t feel his heart beating nor his lungs expanding despite his ability to inhale and exhale.
Finding it difficult not to gag at the scent of decay that seemed to have been coming from within him, he held his breath and wondered if he was rotting. And sure enough, upon finding the strength to raise his hands, and the courage to look down at them, the sight of skin and flesh melting off his visible bones welcomed him.
Hong Jisoo had a mouth, but he could not scream; something was crawling inside him, and he fought off the urge to inspect his own body, afraid of what he would find and see. Through his ears, he could hear nothing but the eerie silence of the evening, his fear and confusion overwhelming him tremendously.
He was not supposed to be awake, a voice at the back of his decomposing brain shouted. And at the crushing thought, his knees gave out and his piercing wail broke through the still quietness of the night. Chest heaving, his body dropped on the cushioned ground that reeked of blight, and curled in on itself.
The voices inside his mind were loud, and his howls were deafening, and he found himself pulling on his hair, eyes widening at the chunk of wet scalp and knotted hair that wedged between his trembling fingers.
“Careful,” he heard someone say overhead; the sweet, sweet tone of the voice compelling him to look up. Above the vast hole he was situated in, a familiar woman with a horrible smile held his gaze with tears in her eyes. “You've been gone for a while. Would you like some tea, darling?”
xxx
It was the sound of typing that triggered something in Jisoo to snap. And he swore, if not for the silence that followed his sudden outburst, he wouldn’t be throwing his computer on the ground and ripping documents that never made any sense despite months of his colleagues teaching him what he ought to do to the numbers printed on the stupidly crisp and white papers always stacked on his desk.
His mother said he liked the quiet and the stillness of the world, that was why he chose to come back to his hometown and work for his father’s small accounting firm. And despite claiming bullshit over that notion, he bit his tongue and accepted the kind of life his mother had told him he had before the accident that took away all sorts of things from him.
Closing his eyes, he clenched his fists and fought the urge to put his headset in, blast music until his eardrums bleed, and run away to a place that always seemed to have been making an appearance at the back of his mind.
The silence that he supposedly relished suffocated him, and being cooped up in the four walls of his small office felt more like a prison than a seemingly harmless space that he, according to anyone and everyone who could talk, adored.
“Your father called,” he heard someone say, and Jisoo didn't need to raise his head to know who the voice belonged to. Still, he found himself looking up, like he was compelled by an invisible force. That had always been the case when he had to deal with the older woman, and it scared him how he couldn’t do anything but obey. “What happened, darling?”
Backing away from his mother, who stood by the door of his office, he felt himself flinching. The presence of the woman should’ve comforted him, but watching her tiptoe through the mess he made, short and plump, dressed in a floral sundress, terrified him.
Nothing ever made sense since he woke up with his mother hunched over him in a hospital room that smelled too sterile.
“What’s your name, darling?” His mother asked, approaching him cautiously like he was an animal ready to bolt; hands raised mid-air, her smile timid. She always did that, he noted, holding his gaze and urging him to match her breath, and most of the time, as if in trance, he would come to her, calm like a baby. But at that moment, he was scared, even with his face being held between tender hands, he couldn’t stop the panic rising from his stomach. “Come back to me, you can do it. What’s your name?”
“I’m- my name is Hong Jisoo,” he stammered, trembling because he knew he was wrong, but he knew he was Hong Jisoo and not whatever his family and friends called him. And maybe that was what pushed him to lash out that morning. On top of the silence, he continued being called by a name that wasn’t his, and truly had his blood boiling.
“No. Try again,” the woman cooed, her eyes filled with emotions Jisoo couldn’t give a name for, shaking her head with disappointment. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint his mother, but what else could he do? He was not who they thought he was, and he needed them to listen to him just once. “You can do it.”
“But- but my name is Hong Ji-”
“Your Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑, sweetheart!” His mother yelled, uncharacteristically harsh and Jisoo shrunk, knees on the floor and tears on his cheeks as the last bit of courage and adrenaline in his blood vanished immediately. “Let me ask you, again. What’s your real name?”
“I’m Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑,” he answered, choosing to ignore what he knew was true in order to melt his mother’s frown back to a smile. Maybe he really was an animal, trapped in a reality that had started looking like a cage. “I’m- I’m an accountant and I buy coffee before going to work. I don’t eat meat, and I like silence. My best friend is my brother, and my- my boyfriend is Park Junseo.”
“That’s right,” His mother beamed, pulling him in a quick and tight embrace. “Now, how about we go home?”
“I’m- I’m sorry,” he whimpered, feeling truly helpless as he clung back to his mother, finding solace in a warm memory resurfacing in his mind.
“What did you do?” Seokmin queried, raising an eyebrow as he entered their shared apartment. His hair was tousled wildly on top of his head, wearing an oversized gray hoodie that made him extra adorable. If Jisoo wasn’t in such a precarious situation, he already would’ve cuddled himself inside his boyfriend’s arms. “Hey, whatever it is-”
“I broke your camera,” he answered, grimacing at the way his voice broke; he had practiced telling Seokmin about the incident in front of a mirror for hours, and he hated how he couldn’t seem to get a hold of his emotions, fidgeting as the other man studied him closely.
“My camera?” Seokmin blinked, his voice still soft, still tender despite finding about what happened. “The new one?”
“Yes,” he answered, lips quivering as he watched his boyfriend approach him with that boyish grin he loved so much. The whole situation was ridiculous, and he couldn’t believe how the other man could still caress his face with such affection and talk to him so sincerely. “I didn’t mean to. I promise.”
“You didn’t mean to break my camera, so why are you crying?” Seokmin chuckled, thumbing his tears away before pinching his cheeks lightly; it should be illegal for someone to be so kind like that, Jisoo thought, ducking his head down as his boyfriend attempted to press a kiss on his forehead.
“Because it’s expensive! And you love it so much you even named it!” He exclaimed, hiccupping as more tears fell down his cheeks. There was a time when he wouldn’t even dare cry in front of the other man, but they had been in a relationship long enough for him to get comfortable about being open and vulnerable in his boyfriend’s presence. “Why aren’t you angry?”
“Because I love you more than Marshall,” Seokmin explained patiently, pulling away from Jisoo slightly. “Look at me, please? Tell me what happened. Were you hurt?”
“No,” he whimpered, sniffling as he looked at his boyfriend through his lashes; cheeks warm and heart full at the assurance the other man had given, he chewed on his lips before recalling the incident that happened that morning. “It just- slipped from my hands and it- the lens shattered.”
“Was the camera too heavy for you?” Seokmin asked, although his tone was serious, Jisoo was aware that the other man was teasing him. Whining under his breath, he tried backing away from his boyfriend, but was instantly engulfed in a hug. “Awwww, Jisoo! My baby is so cute! You can’t even lift my camera properly. How can you live without your strong and hunky boyfriend, huh?”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, cheeks dry as he allowed Seokmin to smother him with kisses and assurance.
“I appreciate your apology, but don’t ever feel sorry, Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑,” Jisoo’s mother exhaled, patting his cheek as she pulled him out of his reverie. “And it’s only been three months. We’re not expecting your memories to return that quick.”
It had been three months, or so that was what everyone was telling him, since he was in a car accident so bad that he couldn’t remember a quarter of his memory. Waking up in the hospital with a surreal dream of dying, it took a while for him to grasp what was real and what was not. But his family was by his bedside and helped him settle back to his life and routine. And that comforted him for a while, the presence of his mother and father aiding him in finding his footing in a life he was struggling to remember.
But no matter how hard he looked, he found no scars in his body, no stitches. And shouldn’t he have at least one or two?
Every morning, he would stand in front of his mirror and look at his reflection, stark naked and confused. On his back was a tattoo of a diamond, and on his head, where the doctors claimed to have been hit so hard, was nothing but smooth scalp underneath ebony hair except for a few patches that felt ragged to his touch. He was not in a car accident, he knew that for sure. But he was aware he laid lifeless somewhere at one point of his life, and wasn’t that disorientating?
“Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑, you’re spacing out again,” Juwon remarked, and how he managed to get from his office to the dining room of his parent’s house, seated beside his brother, he didn’t know. And he had stopped wondering how the sun could rise and set without his knowledge; too focused on following his routine after his apparent car accident, so he could recover his memories faster. “Eat more, will you? I made your favorite pasta and you barely touched it.”
“I’m just- I feel bad for destroying the computer at work,” he mumbled, knowing better than to say that the pasta tasted like blended leaves and earth, and that he preferred to eat the steak on their father’s plate. He was Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑, after all. He didn’t eat meat, and he cared about what was organic and what was not, and the last time he tried sneaking bacon in his sandwich, his mother had cried about not getting his baby back anymore. “I know dad owns the company but-”
“The important thing is that you’re getting better,” Juwon assured, patting his back like he was proud of him for getting through the day. His brother was not supposed to like him like that, the other man shouldn’t even be sitting so near, placing food on his plate and urging him to drink water more. But their mother insisted they were best friends, and maybe they really were, and Jisoo was just truly growing insane. “You feel it, right? That you’re getting better?”
“I hope he gets tired of you,” Juwon muttered under his breath, and Jisoo felt his blood boiling, holding himself back from pushing his own brother in front of the speeding traffic before them. The night was young, and the metropolis was bustling. “You’re fucking insecure, and if you think he’s so loyal to you, why do you need to watch my every move when I’m in the city?”
“Because he’s my boyfriend and you’re crazy,” he hissed, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets as he recalled how Seokmin called him one night, confused and dazed, asking for help. “You drugged him, you asshole. What makes you think I’d let that slide?”
“I didn’t!” Juwon snapped, turning to him with wide eyes and flared nostrils. If Jisoo didn’t know how obsessive his brother could be, he would’ve given him the benefit of doubt. But it was painfully obvious that the other man was so taken with Seokmin, so obviously interested that he couldn’t just believe his explanations, not when he was blaming Seokmin. “He wanted to sleep with me! I didn’t- you’re fucking delusional! And I hope he leaves you!”
“He is getting better,” Jisoo heard his mother say, tapping her knuckles on the table. “Go on, darling. Tell them what your name is.”
Jisoo blinked, swallowing hard as he looked at his father, who hadn’t uttered a word ever since he gained consciousness from the accident.
“My name is Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑,” he drew out, blood growing cold at the recollection of how his brother hated him so much, and how his mother told him that it was true, but they had forgiven each other already, and he might have just forgotten about the talk. Their family was happy, and he should be grateful that they were, but he knew they shouldn’t be. “I jog in the park after work and eat outside before going home. Friends is my favorite series, and I'm allergic to dogs. Juwon is my best friend, and my boyfriend is- my boyfriend is Park Junseo.”
“Good job, darling.” His mother, although beaming, had worry swimming in her eyes. “Why don’t I drive you to Junseo’s house? I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better after seeing him.”
“Okay,” he answered even when he didn’t want to, but his parent’s house was too quiet and he didn’t want to be there any longer. So his mother dropped him off at the other man’s house, and he immediately found himself tucked in a cotton blanket, feet propped on the coffee table while he cradled a warm mug of hot chocolate.
“How bad was it?” Junseo asked, his eyes, the color of hazel, glimmering under the faint light above their heads. Jisoo had to look away, heart sinking down to his stomach at the realization that he still couldn’t believe he ended up with his childhood friend. “Your episode, I mean?”
“I smashed my computer on the ground,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt wrong to sit there, and be in a space with someone who he had long since stopped having a conversation with. And it was nauseating how despite the other man’s best efforts to help him regain his memories, he still couldn’t feel the connection. “It was worse. I think- I think I’m getting worse.”
“Why do you say that?” Junseo queried, clearly on edge and weary; Jisoo wished he could shrink, pretending he didn’t see the other man’s fists clenching. To say that he didn’t feel bad was a lie, but he couldn’t help but doubt every single thing in the reality that was being forced on him day by day.
“I just- I don’t think I have amnesia,” he started, closing his eyes as he felt tremors running through his veins. With conviction, he told Junseo how he could remember, that he was aware of what his life was supposed to be, and that his memory was still inside his head. “I haven’t forgotten anything. And the only reason why I seem so unstable is because everyone keeps on telling me who I am and what I’m supposed to be doing. But I- I remember-”
“What do you think you remember?” Junseo sighed, and Jisoo forced himself not to throw the mug in his hands on the wall as the other man used the word ‘think.’
“You’re not my boyfriend!” He exclaimed, his vision hazy as he turned to look at the man beside him, who returned his gaze with a quiet scoff. “My- my boyfriend is Lee Seokmin! And you are- you are not!”
“This again, huh?” Junseo mumbled under his breath, and Jisoo couldn’t help but flinch when the other man stood up, his whole body tensing up when his childhood friend paced back and forth, going on and on about the story of how they, supposedly, got together. “You broke up with Seokmin, Jisoo! And you returned home and you- and we started going out more and more, and-”
“I know the fucking story, you’ve- everyone had been telling that story to me over and over again, but I know that didn’t happen!” He exclaimed, swallowing down a sob as he put his mug of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. “I’m not- I’m not trying to hurt you. You’ve been a great help to me, but this- you’re not my boyfriend.”
“Please tell me this isn’t a joke,” Seokmin whispered as he buried his face on the crook of Jisoo’s neck, his tone warm and his embrace warmer. “If this is a prank, I don’t think I could ever forgive- well, I like you so much that I’ll immediately forgive you, but just know that you’ll be really hurting me.”
“Why would I even joke about something like this?” He asked, his brain too muddled to even be offended by the other man’s assumption that he could play a joke on him like that. Heart fluttering, he placed a kiss on Seokmin’s shoulder and whispered. “I like you a lot, you know? Why wouldn’t I want to be your boyfriend?”
“You’re serious, huh?” Seokmin breathed out, pulling away slightly from him to look at him. Jisoo could feel his whole face burning as the other man cradled his face, smooth thumbs drawing circles on his cheeks. “I need you to be sure about this, Jisoo. I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go after this.”
“Good,” he whispered, closing the distance between them and planting a chaste kiss on the other man’s mouth. “I don’t think I’ll ever want you to let me go.”
“Then how do you explain the pictures?” Junseo demanded, his voice rising as he enumerated every single date they had gone through, rambling on about the polaroid pictures on his fridge tacked by magnets from the different states they had been to. “I can’t- we can’t make those up, Jisoo! You had amnesia, okay? You forgot-”
“But I didn’t,” he exhaled, shaking his head as he felt his eyes stinging. “I remember those pictures, Junseo. They were taken before I- before I left this horrible town and before I met Seokmin! You can’t fool me into believing I came back home and returned to you!”
“You had a huge fight with Seokmin, you have to believe me!” Junseo yelled, the vein on his temple throbbing, and Jisoo was so, so lost and afraid. He wanted to run away and find his friends, and find Seokmin and ask him to say that everything would be alright. “You came back to your family and to me, and Seokmin set your house in Sokcho on fire, then you- then you got into an accident.”
“Stop treating me like I’m stupid! I’m not stupid! I’m not a fucking fool!” He screamed, closing his eyes as he did his best to control his breathing. Gripping his hair tight, an imaginable fear jolted through his spine, the feeling of holding something soft and wet between his fingers triggering something in him to hurl his lunch on the floor; his insides burned, and the air suddenly smelled putrid and sweet. “I’m not- you people should’ve left me to rot.”
“Honeypie,” Junseo whispered, and all Jisoo wanted to happen was for the ground to swallow him back whole.
“Don’t,” he warned, letting go of his hair and reeling at the sight of his clean hands.
“Babydoll,” Junseo pleaded, approaching him like how everyone had approached him upon his return, cautiously and nervously.
“I said don’t-”
“Space boy.”
“Shut up! I never should’ve told you I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little,” Jisoo whined, playfully swatting Seokmin, who had just come back home and was attempting to start a cute cuddle session with him. “Stop calling me space boy!”
“Write it down,” Seokmin urged with a grin, climbing on top of Jisoo with graceful ease. Clad in nothing but a set of cotton shorts and tank top, the other man was a sight to behold, and Jisoo would be a fool not to indulge his blatant efforts to spend the rest of the night entangled in each other’s limbs. “Come on, I know you’re keeping a diary of our relationship in that little notebook of yours. Write space boy down your list of favorite nicknames.”
“No, that nickname is ridiculous,” he grumbled, shifting under his boyfriend’s body to get more comfortable. The night was young and cold, and the other man was heavy and warm. “Writing it on my list is a huge disrespect to honeypie and babydoll.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Seokmin huffed, holding his gaze with a grin before peppering his whole face with butterfly kisses; Jisoo was surprised he didn’t melt right then and there. “It’s a cute nickname for a cute boy like you.”
“Where are you going?” Junseo heaved, and Jisoo didn’t even know he was on his feet, making his way out of the house through the other man’s kitchen, adamant on going to Sokcho, to the address that he remembered to see for himself if what everyone was saying was true. “Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑!”
“I’m Hong Jisoo! Stop calling me Y̶̰̮͙̓̀ŏ̸̗͂ͅŭ̷̡̘̕r̶̬̟̙̀ ̵̼̗͓͠ṇ̸͚̂͜a̴̜̻͛m̵͓̬͋ȩ̸͔͓͑!” He seethed, whirling around to see Junseo standing mere inches away from him; eyes wild and lips pale. “Where is it? Where the fuck is my diary?”
“What diary?” Junseo asked, groaning as he rubbed his face with exasperation. “Can you just calm down? Sit in the living room and let’s talk about this without yelling.”
“You- why are you guys doing this to me?” He demanded, frustrated as he clenched his fists tight, fighting the urge to run his fingers through his hair and pull his locks out of anger. “I’m not- I’m not an accountant! I’m an artist in Sokcho! I eat meat, and I’m not allergic to dogs! Lee Seokmin and I have a dog and you- what did you guys do to me?”
“I’m calling your mother and-”
“No! You’re not calling my monster- mother, my mother!” He stammered, fear coiling around his neck at the thought of the old woman coming to pick him up and berating him for throwing a tantrum. “You’re going to give me your car keys or I- or I’ll slit my throat right here, right now!”
“Jisoo, please,” Junseo heaved, the sound of desperation lacing his words. And if Jisoo wasn’t so set on finding out the truth for himself, he probably would’ve taken a deep breath and allowed the other man to calm him down, but he wanted- no, he needed to get to Sokcho. “I get that you loved Seokmin but you and him are over! Please remember me, Jisoo. I love you and-”
“Then tell my mother I’m staying over,” he challenged, dead set on leaving before the day ended. His pulse raced, and his heart knocked loudly against his chest; Jisoo was so, so scared, but he had no other choice but to see what was on the other side of his fears. “Give me your car keys, and tell her I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“Okay.” Junseo hesitantly agreed, handing him a set of car keys with trembling hands and a warning. “I hope you don’t regret this.”
Jisoo was out of the house even before he could overthink what Junseo had said, and by the time he reached Sokcho, he was fully convinced he never had amnesia. Because how else would he know his way around the city if he had lost a huge chunk of his memory?
“Some lunatic burned down the house,” an old man explained as Jisoo found himself staring at an empty lot in a very familiar residential area at the outskirts of the city. “I haven’t been here long but they said a lovely couple used to live here.”
Jisoo could feel his whole body growing cold, a lump on his throat forming as he recalled everyone back at home telling him how Seokmin burned down their house, and oh, seeing what used to be such a warm home gone made him sick.
Were they right all along about him having amnesia? He didn’t remember his house burning, and yet there the lot was, empty save for the overgrown weeds swaying with the evening air; maybe that was what he was forgetting. Oh, he shouldn’t have driven away, and oh, he shouldn’t have hurt Junseo by not trusting him.
What had he done?
Jisoo closed his eyes as he felt his brain throbbing, chest heavy at the thought of him thinking bad about his family. It was true that they didn’t have the best relationship but maybe they found a way to reconcile and oh, he was a bad son for not listening to his mother, and for believing they were manipulating him. Oh, he needed to return immediately and apologize and-
“Jisoo?” He heard someone call out, a familiar voice that had always been at the back of his mind. Turning around, he was met by a face that had his throat constricting. “What- what did you just call me?”
“You’re not- you’re not supposed to be alive,” the man faltered, huffing out a chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief. “God, they really went through with it, huh?”
“Soonyoung?” He asked, the name rolling through his tongue easily; they were friends. Jisoo knew they were close, and Jisoo knew the other man was Seokmin’s best friend. “What- what are you talking about?”
“Come with me,” Soonyoung breathed out, and if not for the countless memories resurfacing in Jisoo’s mind, he wouldn’t have come; but there were hundreds of moments flashing right before his eyes wherein Soonyoung was present, beaming wide and laughing widely. Seokmin trusted his best friend with his life, and so Jisoo decided to put his trust in him, too.
“What do you remember?” Soonyoung asked as soon as they stepped foot in his apartment. Jisoo blinked, toeing his shoes off as he watched the other man lock the door and toss his keys in a bowl. “Surely, you remember everything, right? That’s why you came back to your- well, what used to be your house.”
“I don’t know what I remember,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he racked his brain for something to say. “I think- I think I have amnesia, but I don’t.”
“Oh, what have they done to you?” Soonyoung groaned, looking for something in his desk and heaving a sigh of relief as he held up a white envelope in the air. “Here, Seokmin left that one for me when you- when he- never mind, just read it.”
Jisoo tentatively reached out for the envelope, tearing it open as Soonyoung gently pushed him on the couch to sit. With bated breath and beating heart, the world around him melted as he read the letter his boyfriend left for him.
“Space Boy,
If you’re reading this, this means that ritual was successful. You’re alive again, and I’m dead.
I figured you’d be confused right now so let me say it plainly: You’re Hong Jisoo and I’m Lee Seokmin, and I love you so much. You died in a car accident and your family said it was my fault. Don’t listen to your mother, and never love your brother again. Weeks after your death, your mother guilted me into taking my own life to recover yours, and frankly, she didn’t have to do much to get me to give up my life for you.
I love you, I’m sure you know that. And now, you know just how much.
Your family isn’t your family, Jisoo. I hope you remember that. Your mother will do anything to keep you in your hometown, your father has no spine, and your brother drugged us both so he could have his way with me.
Your real family is in Sokcho, Jisoo. I hope you remember them. Soonyoung is my best friend, and he ordained our wedding. Jihoon is his boyfriend and he can give you the tape of when we made our vows, look for him if you don’t recall anything about me, and about us.
I love you, I’m sure you’ll remember that.
And I’m aware of how much you love me, too.
A life for a life, Jisoo. The ritual was easier than baking a cake, and I’ve attached the instructions in this letter just in case you miss and want to see me. All you’ll need is a shovel and the life of someone who loves me.
I love you. And I hope we can see each other again- whether here in heaven or there, on Earth.
PS. When you died, your brother messaged me and asked if I could take him to dinner now that you’re gone. I think he’s still in love with me, space boy.
PPS. Do what you want with that information.
Eternally yours,
Lee Seokmin.”
Stomach churning, Jisoo reread the letter over and over again, confused but thoroughly convinced as he recalled waking up in his own grave, flesh melting off his bones, the scent of rot filling his nostrils. He knew he didn’t have amnesia, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to be alive, and to be made aware of the sacrifice Seokmin had made to bring him back to life had his heart clenching.
“Seokmin gave his life for me-”
“So how are we going to kill Juwon?” Soonyoung queried, stepping in the living room with a metal baseball hat in one hand and a curious glint in his eyes. “It’s your choice, Jisoo.”
“You’d do anything for me, will you, space boy?” Seokmin asked, pressing a kiss on Jisoo’s shoulder as the night grew quiet.
“Yes,” he whispered, shifting inside his husband’s arms to hold his adoring gaze. “How about you? How deep is your devotion for me?”
“Words won’t do my reverence for you justice,” Seokmin drew out, his tone somber and true, before capturing his mouth for a kiss like a seal of vow. “Let my actions speak for my love and commitment to you.”
“Peanuts,” he drawled, blinking away his tears before looking at Soonyoung square in the eyes. “Juwon is allergic to peanuts.”
“Great! Jihoon makes an amazing pesto.” Soonyoung grinned, eyes gleaming as he gave his boyfriend a call. “Hey, baby!”
Jisoo blinked, listening to his friend talk and flirt on the phone as he clutched Seokmin’s letter close to his chest, tears falling down his cheeks. How surreal, he kept thinking, the sob trapped in his throat morphing to a chuckle that soon later turned to a boisterous laughter as Soonyoung joined him on the couch with boxes of Chinese food littered on the coffee table.
Soon, he told himself.
Honeypie.
He’d be with Seokmin once more.
Babydoll.
And no one would ever separate them ever again.
Space boy.