Chapter Text
The world is coming to an end and no one but Seungmin knows it yet.
He doesn’t expect them to know. There hasn’t been a sighting of some world-shattering meteor making its way to earth; there isn’t some deadly virus going around without a cure to take care of it; the antichrist hasn’t suddenly appeared. There isn’t a single sign that the world is about to end and Seungmin doesn’t know how to warn his friends.
They’re talking about summer and making plans and Seungmin is watching them from a fish eye’s view. Out of his body and out of his mind. He laughs when he’s supposed to, nods when they turn to him, and hums and mumbles. He does everything he’s supposed to so his friends don’t feel the shift. Feel the end coming, like Seungmin does.
No matter how badly his heart wants to warn them about it, his mind justifies why he shouldn’t. The end of the world would only cause panic and unease. He wants their last days together to be peaceful. So, he doesn’t tell them.
Instead, he leans on Hyunjin’s shoulder and lets his heart forgive them for the grudge he’d unknowingly started to form before he realised the world was ending. It isn’t their fault, they didn’t know (they didn’t care; the angry part of him supplies. He ignores it in a way he didn’t before). It’s too useless to waste these days angry.
Seungmin just kind of, sort of, thinks it’s a bit silly they’re making summer plans while he’s struggling to get through the last few weeks of winter. While the world might end before spring even starts. It's ridiculous to make plans for something so uncertain.
Right?
Right.
It is.
He doesn't tell them that. They don’t know and he won’t ruin their fun, ruin this for them. He doesn’t want to be a bad friend anymore.
Minho lights up a joint and Felix pours everyone another shot. It feels a lot like they’re celebrating the end. It makes the gloomy cloud over Seungmin’s head smaller. He joins their cheers, throwing his shot back, and when the joint makes its way to him, he takes more than one puff before passing it along. No one nags him about taking too many puffs and for a fleeting second, the end doesn’t seem so bad.
*
A few days after they got together, Seungmin’s peace wavers. The impending doom crawls up his spine, stabs its claws into his neck. It lays heavy on his chest, unmoving, somehow growing every second. And so, Seungmin does what he does best.
He shuts everyone out and disappears into himself. He re-explores parts of his mind that he had shut off ages ago and lets the pain of them pull him in deeper and deeper until it feels like he’s already 6 feet under.
No need to wait for the end of the world; Seungmin’s mind will end before that.
He makes himself as small as he can. His hands dry out. They itch and burn, but Seungmin never moves to fix it. He does not speak. His bladder will feel like it’s about to burst and will hurt as if he’s being punched, but he’ll still wait until he can’t hear anyone moving outside. He does not eat. His stomach growls and cramps, but he’ll drink a few sips of water and pretend it’s enough. He smells rotten.
Yes. That’s it.
Seungmin is rotting. He doesn’t just smell it; he is rotting on the inside. And it’s only a matter of time before the stench slips past the cracks of his rooms and reaches the outside world. only a matter of time before his friends smell his rotting, still alive corpse and burst in.
But Seungmin can’t move. Can’t make himself care because the world is ending anyway. So, there’s really no point in this.
Of course, his friends don’t know that. Seungmin thinks a week might have passed when Minho bursts through his door. The older boy stands in the doorway for a minute. He sighs and shakes his head before making his way to Seungmin.
“Alright, Seungminnie, we’re going grocery shopping today. You and me," Minho announces. He pulls Seungmin up, using more strength than needed and almost sending both of them to the ground. He doesn’t say anything about it, but Seungmin knows he’s holding back. Minho always is when it comes to Seungmin. “Let's go brush our teeth and take a shower.”
Seungmin would protest it, but he knows Minho wouldn’t give in unless Seungmin was actually dying. And then Seungmin would have just wasted energy he could’ve used showering. So, he lets Minho pull him to the bathroom and obediently does everything Minho asks him to. Seungmin declines any help Minho offers him, even if he has to do almost everything sitting down.
Even after spending so many days lying down, doing nothing, Seungmin is still exhausted. He always is. The tiredness had crept into his bones a long time ago and never quite left. It’s fine, though.
Soon enough, he won’t have to deal with this anymore.
Minho had left Seungmin clean clothes before going to the other bathroom, claiming that it was already quite late and he needed the groceries to start dinner. Seungmin knew it was because Minho was afraid Seungmin would retreat to his room if it took too long and take another week to come back out.
The shower takes a lot of Seungmin, even with the breaks he takes, the moments he spends sitting down, doing nothing to clean himself, just letting the water roll down his body. He's exhausted by the end and feels lightheaded the whole time, but Minho is outside the door, asking if Seungmin is okay. His voice is unusually soft, so with whatever strength Seungmin has left, he pushes through and hurriedly puts his clothes on.
Minho is still standing there when Seungmin opens the door. He takes the towel out of Seungmin’s hands and guides him to the sofa.
“Hyung will dry your hair,” Minho says, sounding more like himself again. Seungmin lets him, too tired to protest.
A few moments pass in silence, the only sound being the gentle brush of Minho's hand through his damp hair. Seungmin can feel the elder’s gaze on him, as if Minho’s trying to get past the walls built around himself in just a week’s time.
“Have you been eating, Kim Seungmin?” Minho asks, his voice light, but Seungmin can hear the underlying worry. An accusation in the most affectionate way, completely opposite of Minho's usual style.
“Yes, hyung.”
Lying comes easy to Seungmin. He was raised a liar, and, not always, but most of the time he’s grateful for it. “Actually hyung, is it okay if i stay back? I'm tired." Minho looks confused for a second, like he forgot the reason he forced Seungmin out of bed. But then it clicks and he nods, not questioning him further.
“We can order in. You can rest today and tomorrow we’ll go,” he states.
Minho pushes Seungmin’s hair out of the boy’s face, staring hard at Seungmin as if he’ll be able to figure everything out.
“You’re tired, so I won’t ask you today, Seungmin-ah. But we’re talking about it soon, alright.”
Minho is referring to the episode Seungmin is going through. He always wants to, but never before has he said it so explicitly. Usually, he beats around the bush or waits until Seungmin comes to him. But Minho must’ve noticed that it’s different this time. Maybe he’s caught sight of the doom that is creeping up on them, the meteor that’s coming closer and closer.
“Alright, hyung.” Seungmin easily complies. At this point, it feels easier to go along than fight back.
*
“Yah, Kim Seungmin!” Jisung is out of breath when he catches up with Seungmin. He hits Seungmin’s arm, still panting. “I've called your name a thousand times, dude. Fuck you and your long legs. Seriously.”
Seungmin hadn’t noticed. He was in his head again, relying on his subconscious to get him back home safely. It’s a path he’s walked hundreds of times, he doesn’t need to focus on it.
“Sorry, I didn't notice.”
Jisung’s face immediately softens, and Seungmin wonders what caused it, but he won’t ask. Instead, he lets Jisung grab onto his elbow and drag him in the opposite direction.
“I know you didn’t. We’re getting lunch together. I didn’t have time for breakfast, and now I’m starving,” Jisung complains, patting his stomach to emphasise his words. He starts rambling about his classes, about the girl in his class who refuses to accept that Jisung is gay, about his professor who cried during his lecture today and how bad Jisung felt for him.
Seungmin tries to keep up with it all, but most of it flies over his head. He nods and hums in the right places, though, because nothing matters more to Jisung than being listened to. And Seungmin should at least be the best friend he can be before the world ends. He should at least leave them with the memory of him being a good friend.
They reach Seungmin’s favourite on-campus café without him even realising it. Jisung tells him to sit down, that he’ll order for the both of them.
It's easy with Jisung. It always is because Jisung is a shapeshifter; Seungmin knows it for sure. The older boy knows exactly who and what to be so whoever he’s with feels comfortable. It's his best and worst trait, but for now, Seungmin won’t complain about it. For now, he’ll stare out the window.
It’s the first of March, but spring still seems so far away when the sky looks white. It’ll probably snow again soon. Seungmin thinks he’ll go when winter does. Let the world end with winter and start anew with spring. The flowers will start blooming, and whatever Seungmin breaks in his wake will start healing. The thought of it is nice, peaceful in a way.
“What’s got you smiling like that, Minnie?” Jisung asks, putting their drinks on the table. He plops down on the chair opposite of Seungmin, still looking at the younger boy expectantly.
“Spring,” Seungmin answers. A half truth that Jisung takes greedily. The older boy nods, curling his fingers around his cup. His gaze drifts over Seungmin’s face contemplatively.
“You know, it sort of feels like winter won’t end this year,” he finally says. “But I really can’t wait for spring to come.” He’s still staring at Seungmin, and it feels a bit like Seungmin missed something important. Like Jisung meant something else, but Seungmin just didn’t get it.
The air between them shifts. It feels more deliberate now, too heavy.
“Is— is something wrong?” Seungmin hesitantly asks. He's not sure he wants the answer, but not asking would be wrong. Especially when Jisung is always the first to ask him.
Jisung’s gaze flickers, lips pressing together briefly before turning into something unreadable. “I don’t know, Seungmin-ah, is there?”
Seungmin’s stomach churns with the question, violent and unforgiving, and for a moment, it feels like he might throw up. Jisung does not waver; he stares right at Seungmin, waiting for an answer Seungmin knows he won’t be able to give him. So, Seungmin looks away first.
He turns to the window again, fists clenched tightly under the table. He hopes the sting of his fingernails stabbing into his palms will ground him.
Jisung does not say anything after that, but he moves his chair next to Seungmin’s and stares out the window with him. Seungmin wonders if Jisung is trying to look at the world from Seungmin’s perspective. And if he’s able to see it, can he see it for what it is? Can he recognise the end?
*
It does snow, two days after Seungmin’s lunch with Jisung. It makes Seungmin doubt himself again, that maybe he was right. Maybe this year, winter will drag on and on, and he’ll have to stay longer than he intended to. He starts thinking that maybe he should just pick a date to make it more definite.
So, he thinks about it, long and hard. It has to be after Hyunjin’s birthday. He can’t ruin his best friend’s birthday; that’d be too selfish of him.
Seungmin does not get the chance to ponder over it for much longer, though. The boy he had just been thinking about storms into Seungmin’s dorm, already rambling about god knows what. Hyunjin plops down next to Seungmin on the couch, stares at the black TV screen Seungmin had been staring at for the past few hours, then turns to Seungmin.
“I think you might be the devil,” Seungmin says as a greeting. He smiles when Hyunjin starts spluttering.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was just thinking about you, and then you showed up.” Hyunjin’s face immediately softens. Seungmin can’t help but wonder what he’d look like if Seungmin told him what he’d been thinking. If he told Hyunjin he’s planning when to end the world.
“Aw Seungminnie, my baby, were you missing me?” Hyunjin exclaims, throwing his arms around Seungmin. He hugs Seungmin like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Hyunjin will frown and grumble about everyone else, but he hugs Seungmin like it’s easy. It is easy for Seungmin to melt into his arms.
“If that’s what you’d like to believe.” Seungmin softly thumps his head against Hyunjin’s.
There’s a pause. A long and heavy one, in which Seungmin can feel Hyunjin opening his mouth a few times and closing it again, like he doesn’t know what to say. And then, finally, he hums. “Yeah, I would like to believe that you miss me too much to ever leave,” Hyunjin mumbles.
It’s beginning to feel more and more like everyone is in on the secret that Seungmin is trying to keep. Like everyone is seeing the end of the world coming and is trying to stop it in whatever way they can.
“I would take you. If I ever decide to leave, I'd take you with me. In my bag, and I wouldn't give you a say in it.” Seungmin says it like he means it. Like he hasn’t already planned on leaving alone. But really, it’s only this one destination he wants to go to alone. Anywhere else, he’d take his friends, his family, with him.
“Would you, though?” Hyunjin sounds like Jisung did a few days ago. But as long as none of them say it straightforwardly, Seungmin won’t either. “Don’t go anywhere, Minnie, not without me, okay?” Hyunjin whispers it like a secret when Seungmin takes too long to reply.
“I won’t.” Seungmin lies the same way he breathes, without having to think about it. “There’s still snow outside. D’you want to build a snowman,” he sings in a high-pitched voice, just to change the subject.
Hyunjin easily agrees, like he always does with Seungmin. He helps Seungmin bundle up: he ties Seungmin’s scarf, slides his gloves on, and zips his jacket up. And Hyunjin does it with so much love in his eyes that Seungmin aches with guilt about all the lies he’s telling Hyunjin. The lies he will keep telling all of them.
Because Seungmin knows that if he takes the inch they’re offering him, his greedy heart will take the whole mile. His heart will poison theirs. So, in the end, he takes nothing at all, saving both himself and them.
He does the best he can do for them; he lies.
He lets Hyunjin drag him around, builds the snowman he asked Hyunjin to build, he fakes smiles and laughs. And when he goes quiet, and Hyunjin asks him if he’s okay, Seungmin lies again and tells him yes.
By the end of the day, Seungmin has settled on a date. He won’t say it out loud, and he prays that Hyunjin never realises it, but the older boy had unknowingly helped him decide.
When Seungmin reaches his dorm and Hyunjin leaves for his own, Seungmin goes to his room. He thinks the date over once again; it feels right. In his heart, he knows this is the best date he could’ve chosen. He circles the date on his calendar and stares at it.
April eleventh.
There’s no special meaning or connection to the date and that’s what makes it perfect.
*
Seungmin’s feelings are all-consuming. When he’s angry, he can’t remember how he felt before the anger; the anger had always been there, will always be there. When he’s happy, the sadness or anger never existed; he’s been fine all along, he was just being dramatic when he cried his heart out, when he cut himself open. When he’s sad, it feels like he’s only ever been sad, he has always wanted to die, he’s cried every night, he’s never been happy before, he’ll never be happy again.
God, he’ll never be happy again. He never was in the first place. How could he have let himself believe that things could be different? His friends were a pipe dream, and now he could see it clearly, everyone was just looking for a reason to get rid of him. Seungmin knows it’s irrational. He knows in a few hours or days he’ll be able to sleep again, his skin will stop itching, his brain will get quieter. It won’t be silent, but it won’t be as loud anymore.
The rational part of him knows he’ll be fine again. The sad part of him doesn’t. So, maybe that’s why the end of the world feels like the best option to him. And it’s for the better, really, the decision he made.
Because before he made this decision, his words had been sharp as knives, cutting anyone who even dared to speak to him. He had been sleeping alone again and found himself a different hiding space, one that no one knew. He had been pushing everyone away. He was making plans, writing goodbyes. He was fading before he made his decision.
It sounds dramatic and feels it too. But it’s true. Seungmin was (and still is, not like before, but he still is), in every sense there is, fading. He stopped eating; he only spoke to hurt, so he stopped speaking at all; his scars have once again become open wounds; he stopped taking his medication. He stopped seeing his friends, his family.
And Seungmin knew from the start that this slump wasn’t like the other times either. He didn’t want to be fine anymore. He didn’t want it to be better. He didn’t want help carrying the burden. Seungmin just wanted— he didn’t want to be anymore. He wanted to die. He couldn’t talk around it, he couldn't avoid or ignore it.
That’s when he had made this decision. The world was going to end and its demise was in Seungmin’s hands.
He feels better now that he’s made his decision and the end is nearing. Whatever weight is on his shoulders seems bearable and he doesn’t hate his friends anymore. And he supposes it’s obvious or maybe unnerving because it doesn’t take long for Jeongin to point it out.
“You look different, hyung,” he says. He’s tracing the veins on Seungmin’s hand, has been for the entire time they’ve been together, but he has not looked at Seungmin once. So, he wonders how Jeongin came to that conclusion.
“You haven’t even looked at me once, Innie, how would you know?” Seungmin voices, lifting his finger so it bumps against Jeongin’s palm. The younger still doesn’t look at him, just shrugs.
He looks younger, smaller, than he usually does, and Seungmin wonders when that happened. How many more changes he missed when he was busy being angry with them.
Jeongin pulls his hand back, pushes his hair back with it. “I can feel it. And— and just because I’m not looking at you right now, doesn’t mean that I never do. We live together, it’s harder to not look at you.”
“Is it?” The bitter feeling that had just started lessening was creeping up on Seungmin. If Jeongin has such a hard time not looking at Seungmin, then how come he never said anything before? How come he’s only saying something now that the difference he’s seeing is a positive one?
Jeongin hums thoughtfully. A few more moments pass in silence before he finally does look up at Seungmin. “Something’s changed, hyung, and I can’t pinpoint what. I mean, it feels like you flipped a switch since you went out with Hyunjin-hyung.” Jeongin is frowning, the same way he does when he’s trying to figure out a formula. “At first I thought that it was a good thing. That maybe you were feeling better, but now I don’t feel so sure anymore.”
“What makes you unsure?” Seungmin asks. His first instinct was to argue. To get defensive about how he’s doing better and that Jeongin doesn’t need to question it. But that would’ve been suspicious and Seungmin’s not stupid enough to worsen the younger’s suspicions.
“I’m not sure,” Jeongin mumbles. He’s staring at Seungmin like he’ll figure it out that way. “Can’t you just be honest and tell me?” He eventually sighs.
Seungmin stays quiet for a few moments and resists the urge to turn away. “I don’t think there’s anything to tell. I felt bad for a while, but I feel better now. I feel good now, aegi, don’t overthink it,” he lies, patting Jeongin’s head. He does turn away now, but he rests his head on Jeongin’s shoulder. It’s easier to fight his bitterness when there’s an end in sight. It’s easy.
**
Or maybe it’s not that easy.
Seungmin’s finger is stinging from where he pulled the skin off, the scars on his arms are burning, and his lip is bleeding. Everything hurts in one way or another, making him feel unclean. And all he can think of is making it worse.
Ignoring it doesn’t feel half as easy as it was with Jeongin. He can’t ignore the itch under his skin. He scratches the surface, but it doesn’t work; it just makes it worse. So, after a while, he gives in. He grabs the box he keeps hidden under his bed.
With the first cut, spiders come crawling out. They fall onto the floor and pool up. The itch lessens. But it’s not enough, it never is. So another cut follows, the stinging in his fingers subsides, and awakens in his arm. And then another cut to proof that the pain is there. That he went through hell, and he isn’t better now.
It becomes a thoughtless motion. He runs out of space, but it’s still not enough. The pressure on his chest is less than before, but still not gone. And Seungmin needs it gone, he needs to feel better about himself, about the decision he’s made.
He’s just rolling his other sleeve up when the door bursts open. Seungmin freezes, but his feelings don’t change. Distantly, a part of him, tells him to panic and hide, but he can’t. He doesn’t feel that way. What he feels is annoyance at being interrupted, he feels stupid for not locking his door.
“Seungmin…” Changbin breathes his name out more than he actually says it. He stands there with wide eyes, his mouth hung open, and skin pale. “Seungminnie, you– what did you do?” It’s not a question, Changbin is saying it just to say something, to make it look like he’s not frozen in fear. But Seungmin knows him better than he knows himself, so he can see the fear.
“There’s–” Seungmin’s voice cracks, he’s not sure why it feels like there’s a lump in his throat. He clears it and tries again, “my towel is there. Just give me that and leave, hyung. I’ll come talk to you later.” He keeps his voice steady, the moment it wavers Changbin will too, and they don’t need that right now.
“No,” Changbin sternly says. He has put his mask on, stoic and stern, like the sight doesn’t bother him. “I’m not leaving you like– like this.” He grabs the towel Seungmin had mentioned and sits down next to Seungmin. He’s gentle when he grabs Seungmin’s arm, gentle when he cleans the blood, gentle when he holds the towel against the cut that won’t stop bleeding. “I knocked,” he mumbles after a while.
“What?”
“I knocked on your door 5 times before I came in. I thought that maybe you weren’t home, but I could wait for you here. Jeongin told me you said you were feeling good, and I thought– I thought maybe you would want to hang out with me again. I didn’t just burst in, I saw the way you looked at me, and I need– I need you to know I didn’t just burst in, okay?” Changbin is rambling. He’s usually calm and collected, and he most definitely does not ramble. He’s the pillar everyone turns to when they start to falter, he’s stable and unwavering. And Seungmin does not know what that makes him, when he’s the one who made Changbin waver.
He’s always known he was the worst of them, this just proves it.
“I’m sorry, hyung. I should’ve– I should’ve locked the door or answered when you called. You shouldn’t have seen this–”
“That’s not what I meant and you know that!” Changbin exclaims. He lets go of the towel, but immediately grabs on again, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “You’re hurting so much, you’re hurting yourself, Minnie. Why didn’t you tell anyone? You should’ve told someone, should’ve told me. I could’ve– it shouldn’t have gotten to this point.”
“You’re rambling, hyung. You never ramble and you’re rambling now, and it’s my fault. And I couldn’t have told you in any way that wouldn’t end this way. I don’t want my feelings to make you guys feel bad– I don't want to drag you down with me, so I don’t tell you.”
“I don’t care if it hurts me! Jesus, Seungmin, you could slice me open and I wouldn’t care if it meant you wouldn’t do this to yourself.”
“You wouldn’t be able to handle it if I told you the truth, hyung. I’m not doing that,” Seungmin mumbles. He pulls his arm away and grabs the antiseptic wipes he keeps in his box. Changbin takes them though, and he cleans it for Seungmin, much gentler than Seungmin would’ve been with himself.
“I’ll handle myself, and if I'm not able to, then that’s my problem. You don’t have to worry about that, okay? So, just tell me.” Changbin’s voice is barely over a whisper, he has tears in his eyes, and all Seungmin can think is that he won’t be able to handle it. Changbin will fight it, he’ll cry and force Seungmin to stay, but he can’t. Seungmin can’t stay.
“I can’t tell you, hyung. I can’t stay.” It’s out of Seungmin’s mouth, before he realises, but he can’t take it back now.
“What does that– what do you mean you can’t stay? You’re leaving? Where would you– I mean, where are you going?” Changbin knows exactly what Seungmin means. Seungmin can see it on his face, can see it in his shaking hands, and it’s exactly why no one was supposed to find out till after the world had ended.
“You know what it means,” Seungmin mumbles.
“No, I don’t, not until you tell me clearly. Just tell me honestly, Minnie, just this once.”
“What do you want me to tell you, Changbin?” Seungmin rolls his sleeve down and stands up. He’s taller than Changbin when the older is standing, but when he’s sitting down Seungmin towers over him. “That I'm crazy in the head? And that I always have been and it’s gotten to the point where I don't want to be anymore. It won’t– I’ve been insane for long enough to know that it won’t go away. So, I need– I want– I’m going to kill myself, and you can’t stop me, okay. Nothing you say will change my mind. You can cry or yell at me, but it won’t– I won't change my mind or feel guilty about my decision.”
“You can’t. We’ll– we’ll fix this. I’ll find a way to fix this or we’ll talk to Channie, he can– he knows how to fix everything. Or I’ll– you could go to therapy, and I'll even pay for it. Okay, Seungmin-ah? Fuck, I’ll pay you to go to therapy, but you’re not– you can’t do that.” Changbin is on his knees. He’s on his knees, begging Seungmin to spare the world and Seungmin won’t grant him that.
“Therapy won’t fix it. It won’t fix me. You know, I’ve had five different therapists. I can’t be fixed, hyung–”
“Okay, then don’t get fixed. Live miserably, be unfixed and insane and angry at me for not allowing you to die, but live. Please. You cannot kill yourself, Kim Seungmin, we won’t be able to bear it. I won’t survive it.”
“You will–”
“I won’t!” Changbin interrupts Seungmin in a tone that he’s never used before, a tone similar to his mother’s angry one. It takes everything in him to not cower and agree with what the older boy is saying.
“No.” Seungmin shakes his head stubbornly. Not even his fear can prevent the end. “No, listen to me, hyung! It wouldn’t matter! At the end of the day, it wouldn’t. You’ll survive, and you’ll forget me after some time, you guys will be fine, but I won't. I’ll always feel this way. I’ll always be insane and unhappy and I can't live that way anymore. You’ll find me in this same position a million times if you make me stay, hyung, it wouldn’t be fair and I’d be doing it on purpose, to torture you because you forced me to stay. And I can't– I can't do that to you, I can't be that person. I can’t become my mother, hyung, and that is who I’ll become if i stay.”
Seungmin drops to his knees again. He takes Changbin’s face in his hands as gently as he can while breaking his heart. He wipes the tears he brought to Changbin’s eyes and pushes down the guilt that feels a lot like bile wanting to make its way out.
“I told you because you wanted the truth, hyung, not because I want you to make me stay. Don’t try to. The time I've given myself… I don't want to spend it being angry with you. I don’t want to have to push you away.”
“I don’t want you to go, Minnie.”
“I can’t stay, hyung.”
*
Changbin doesn’t leave that night. He snoops around Seungmin’s room though, and Seungmin knows he’s trying to find some clue about when the younger is going to do it. The younger has hidden his calendar. He’s not stupid enough to leave it out in the open, doomsday circled on it, when everyone’s already been suspicious of him.
Seungmin tries to sleep, but even with Changbin there, there’s an anxious feeling clawing at his chest. Something akin to the fear he used to feel a lifetime ago. He spends the whole night tossing and turning, but pretends to be asleep when Changbin wakes up. He doesn't even move when Changbin cries or when he leaves.
Changbin will tell the others, Seungmin is sure of it. He’ll confirm what they already know and it’ll be harder than before, but it won’t change anything.
The world will still end; Seungmin will still leave.
A few hours pass before Felix bursts through the door and Seungmin knows that the news broke. A headline, probably, Breaking news: the world is ending. We don’t know yet when it’ll happen, just that it will. The man who planned it, confessed last night. Put together your emergency kits, prepare to evacuate. The world is ending, folks!
It’s evident in the way Felix sits on top of Seungmin, forces the blanket away and stares at him. “I don’t care that you didn’t tell anyone else, Kim Seungmin. You could’ve kept it a secret and never told anyone, and it wouldn’t have mattered anything. But how– how could you have hidden this from me? You are going to– Seungmin.”
Felix has known Seungmin longer than he has not. He knows everything about Seungmin, about the life he used to live, about the way he used to cope. He knew every time Seungmin felt this way before, when it felt like the end was near, and he talked Seungmin out of it every time. Which is exactly why this time Seungmin didn’t tell him.
“Lix–”
“This is– it’s insane. I know and I can feel that it’s different this time, but you can’t do this, okay. Literally, forget everyone else, what am I going to do without you? How am I– I mean, did you think about the fact that we live together, what if i was the one–”
“Don’t try to fucking guilt trip me like that. That’s not fair, Felix–”
“I don’t care how unfair it is!” Felix gets off Seungmin and forces him to sit up. “You cannot leave me.”
“Can we not talk about this right now–”
“Then when will we? When you’re dead? Will you make me buy a fucking Ouija board and tell you through that, that you shouldn’t have left me?” Felix’s anger is burning off him, his ears have even turned red, and if this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of them. Seungmin really can’t tell if the anger is for or with him.
“Nothing you can say will change my mind, Lixie, so don't waste your time angry with me.”
Seungmin isn’t sure what it is, but Felix stares at him for a long time after his words. The anger is replaced by something much sadder, and it sort of feels like Felix is already grieving him, like he’s accepted it. Seungmin doesn’t know if it makes him glad or upset, that everyone is letting it go so easily.
“Tell me why, at least. Tell me what’s different, why I can't change your mind." Seungmin can hear what the blond isn’t asking, how can I fix it?
He sighs and drops back down. He stares at the ceiling, while Felix lays down next to him. “I don’t know,” Seungmin finally says. “I’m just so tired and I can feel myself turning into my mother, Lix. I mean, I've got her eyes, her lips, and nose. I change my clothes a million times without being satisfied even once and I carry myself exactly the way she did. If I was a girl, I’d be a carbon copy of her.” He sighs, then continues. “But it’s not just on the outside. I feel like all that I am is everything she gave me and everything she took from me. I’m not any of her good parts, I’m her worst; the person she turned into. It’s making me feel suffocated, like my lungs are caving in on me, like the walls are closing in, like I'm never going to be happy again. And– and I need to stop it before it gets worse. I need to end it before I become her.”
Felix squeezes Seungmin’s hand and hooks their ankles together. “You’re not. You do kinda look like her, but you’re not her. You’re my Seungminnie,” Felix says. He says it as if it’s a fact, a truth of life that is so undeniable, Felix can’t do anything but say it with his full chest. Seungmin is Felix’s, but it won’t make him stay. “And I love you, so please stay with me.”
“I can’t,” Seungmin’s voice is barely above a whisper. His throat hurts from the lump in it and his eyes are burning, but he won’t cry. He can’t show how his heart is wavering or how scared he is.
“Don’t– don’t you love me?” It’s Felix’s last resort, Seungmin can hear it in his voice.
“I do. I do love you, I'm just— I'm tired of being like my mother, Lix,” Seungmin admits.
*
Seungmin doesn’t know how he ends up at Chan’s doorstep a day before doomsday, completely drenched and out of his mind. All he knows is that he’s already there, and there must’ve been a reason, so he knocks with trembling fists, too loud and not loud enough at the same time. He’s not sure whether Chan has heard it or if he’s even home, but he has to be.
Chan has to be home because if he isn’t, Seungmin won’t know what to do with himself. He won’t be able to handle himself, he won’t know how to survive it.
There’s no need to worry any longer though. The door swings open and Chan looks at Seungmin like he’s been waiting for him. The older boy wraps his arms around Seungmin before he even gets the time to process that Chan is there. Chan is here, he’s here and he’s holding Seungmin, putting out the fire that was burning Seungmin alive.
For a moment, Seungmin can feel the air come back to his lungs. It’s punched out again when Chan pulls back and looks at Seungmin with his stupidly sad eyes.
“You’re here,” Chan says. It sounds more like, you’re alive. Chan is the only one that hasn’t stuck to Seungmin like glue since they found out. It had gotten him worried that maybe Chan really did hate him now or that maybe he didn’t feel like he had to pretend to like Seungmin anymore. That he was glad Seungmin was going soon.
“Can I—“ Seungmin’s voice breaks so miserably, it’s embarrassing. He clears his throat and tries again, “Can I come in, hyung?” It’s still small and not loud enough, but better than before.
Chan nods, he wraps his fingers around Seungmin’s wrist and pulls him in eagerly. He even locks the door, which he never bothers to do. “You should stay. For a few days, I mean. Or you can move in if you want, I’m sure Felix won’t mind. He could move in, too. Or better yet, let’s buy a big house and we’ll all—“
“I need to– I haven't showered in a week, hyung. I need to be clean before the end tomorrow. I don't want to smell rotten too soon," Seungmin interrupts. He stumbles over his words, saying things before his brain even decides to say them.
Chan frowns, stares at Seungmin like he didn’t understand a thing Seungmin said. Like Seungmin is speaking a foreign language that Chan never learned to speak.
“Minnie–”
“No, hyung, I have to be clean.” Seungmin steps away when Chan reaches out. He’d just told the older boy that he’s unclean, that he hasn’t showered. His insides are rotting even though his heart is still beating, and he reeks of it. Reeks of death, of blood, of rotten flesh and bones. Chan can’t touch him.
“Okay,” Chan says, careful and calculated. “Let’s— let’s go take a bath. How’s that? I’ll help you get clean.” He nods towards the bathroom and holds his hand out, but Seungmin doesn’t take it.
He’s not sure a bath will help. He’s not sure anything will help because Seungmin is out of time, he’s on his last few hours, and soon he’ll be 6 feet under. There will be insects eating away at his skin, through his muscles, until all there is left is bones. And if the god he spent most of his life cursing turns out to be real, he’ll be in eternal damnation and there won’t be a way to repent.
“Seungmin.”
Seungmin looks away from Chan’s hand and up at his face again. Does Chan know what day it is tomorrow, or does he know about all the things Seungmin has had to prepare? Does he know that he’s in Seungmin’s will, even if there is not much to give?
“A bath is good,” Seungmin mumbles when Chan’s frown starts to deepen. Chan nods and grabs Seungmin’s sleeve, being cautious about not touching his skin. Seungmin thinks about how easily the older boy adapts to whatever Seungmin needs. He wonders how Chan will adapt to Seungmin not being there, will it be as easy as he’s imagined?
Chan helps him with everything. He guides him to the bathroom, runs the bath, even helps Seungmin undress and get in. He does not say anything about the cuts on Seungmin’s arms, pointedly does not look at them.
It’s when Chan washes his back with gentle hands, that Seungmin starts sobbing. Loud and with his mouth open, like he did as a child. It hurts to be treated this gently when he doesn’t think he deserves it. He hugs himself even tighter and drops his head onto his knees. He can’t stop crying now, doesn’t think he will before the world ends.
Maybe he’ll be in his grave, crying as a corpse. Maybe even death won’t stop this generational hurt that he was born with. From the cradle to the grave, and then a bit more.
Seungmin cries for his mother, for himself, for his friends. He begs to God, even if he doesn’t believe in him, for some sort of salvation.
Forfeit the battle you gave me, god, he begs, I admit defeat, I'm waving the white flag. I'll call my mom and apologise about the pain she caused me. I'll do everything you say is right and I'll live by it. I’ll die with it, please just make it stop hurting.
He’s not sure whether he’s saying it out loud or in his head. But if he is, then Chan doesn’t try to quiet Seungmin down. Instead he carries on what he is doing. He washes Seungmin’s hair while humming a tune that the younger isn’t listening to. He treats him gently and scrubs him clean, but all Seungmin can think of is leaving him.
About doomsday that’ll happen tomorrow.
Chan unplugs the drain, wraps a towel around Seungmin’s shoulders, but he doesn’t make them move. He sits on the floor beside the bathtub and watches the way Seungmin unravels.
Seungmin wishes he would say something, anything to make it better or worse. Just anything that would justify the way Seungmin is feeling or would invalidate it in a rational way.
Chan does not say anything yet, though. He dries Seungmin’s hair with another towel, then helps him stand. They go through the motions of getting Seungmin dressed in complete silence. Seungmin has tired himself out, so he isn’t crying anymore.
The silence is stifling because there are words on the tip of Chan’s tongue. Seungmin sees him open his mouth a few times and then lose courage.
It’s when the clock strikes 12, changing the date from the tenth to the eleventh, and Seungmin can’t stop staring at the time, that Chan finally says something again. “Stay here, Minnie. You don’t have to talk about it, I won’t ask any questions if you don’t want me to. But stay here until today passes, okay.”
If Seungmin was less tired and Chan looked a little less desperate, Seungmin would’ve denied him. He would’ve walked out the door right this moment and he’d be gone before the sun even started to rise.
As it is, Seungmin is so tired, his bones feel like lead dragging him down, and Chan looks like his own life depends on it.
So, Seungmin agrees.