Work Text:
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Leather dress shoes halt in front of the elevator. A pair of arms wiggle their way out of a fitted blazer, tossing it casually over a shoulder. Slim fingers fish a crumpled note out of the front pocket of a pair of wool dress pants.
10th Floor Reservation - Grand Hotel Atiny. Meet at 11:00 PM lobby. Don’t be late.
Yunho stuffs the note back into his slacks before, almost mechanically, glancing back without blinking. Brown eyes move to a dark corner where the ceiling meets the wall. Fixed. Staring.
Ding.
The elevator.
Enter.
He turns back and nonchalantly walks in, leaving an already eerily quiet and empty lobby to be just that- empty.
The doors close on their own, the lift already ticking up.
Two. Three. Four.
Yunho glances around the compartment, hand coming up to loosen his tie.
10th Floor. 10th Floor.
Five. Six. Seven.
His eyes shift to the numbers counting up. Yunho leans his body against the rail, adjusting his jacket that rests on his left arm before stuffing both hands in his pockets.
Eight. Nine.
He lets out a sigh.
Ten.
The metal doors slide open. Yunho pushes off the wall and exits the lift, turning his head to the right to see a shadow move around the corner.
His eyes narrow. Another guest?
To your room.
“Right.” He mutters, walking after the shadow. His long legs make quick strides of the maroon carpet, allowing him to round the corner in no time. The hallway stretches on, and towards the end, the shadow stops.
“Hey-”
Its head snaps to glare at the man.
“Wait!” Yunho calls out before the shadow disappears. A strong wave of deja vu washes over him, leaving the man feeling nothing but confused.
To your room.
He sighs, straightening and continuing his move down the hall. He passes countless doors, all with tags of Do Not Disturb hung on handles.
Must be why the place is empty.
1019…1020…1021…1022…
His feet stop in front of a set of double doors. Yunho tilts his head, inspecting the room number.
1024.
“Guess this is my room,” he mutters, before pushing in. The hotel room is quite ornate, with beautiful furniture strewn about. He practically jumps out of his skin when he notices a lanky silhouette in front of a wall mirror. Shaded hands move to adjust some equally obscured strands of hair. A grumble escapes the shadow's mouth as his cowlick refuses to sit properly. Yunho blinks, and they're gone.
Chalking it up to his eyes playing tricks, he turns to shut the doors behind him. Words flash in his mind.
“Shall we dance?”
Yunho closes his eyes and imagines a figure standing in front of him, warm hand enveloping his. He spins the form around the room, the two in sync. It feels all too natural.
He opens his eyes, expecting someone or something to be standing there, but the room is empty.
Yunho glances down at his hand, swearing there was warmth, that he was touching a person.
He flops onto the nearby velvet couch, eyes wandering around the room as he ponders,
Haven’t I done this before?
Yunho winces as a sudden pain shoots through his head, his hands instinctively moving up to clutch it.
To bed. To bed. To bed.
“What was I thinking about…?” He mumbles as he sits up, scratching his neck. Right. I’m tired.
He gets up from his spot on the couch and shuffles to the bed. Lying back on the pillows, he lets his eyes flutter shut.
-
Feeling as if someone is shaking him awake, he sits up in alarm. The room is still dimly lit by the lights strewn about, with no one in sight. He glances down at his hand, inspecting it. His wrist flips to reveal his watch.
11:00 PM.
Yunho climbs out of bed and lumbers to the couch. He takes a seat, reaching out to the pitcher of water in front. His hand steadily fills a glass, though when he picks it up, the vessel seems to slip through his fingers, causing a spill.
“Damn it!”
The glass tumbles off the side, leaving Yunho with a mess to clean up.
It was almost as if it fazed through my hand…
He picks up the now-empty glass, cautiously bringing it close to his face. It’s solid. Nothing out of the ordinary. How did that…?
Downstairs. Downstairs. Downstairs.
“-’m going to be late. I should go downstairs,” he murmurs, setting the glass back down. He gets up from the couch, grabbing his jacket and slipping on his shoes. Just as he approaches the door to exit, an urge to primp draws him back to the wall mirror.
He fixes a few stray strands that are sticking out of place after his nap. A grumble escapes his mouth as his cowlick refuses to sit properly. Wait, who cares if my hair is messy? Yunho sighs, shaking his head as he makes his way back to the door. Except his reflection stays, unmoving as it watches him exit to the hallway.
The lanky man strides to the elevator, doors dinging open without even needing to press the button.
Downstairs. Hurry. Downstairs.
“I must hurry,” he murmurs, watching as the metal door slides closed. His fingers fidget and tap against the railing as he watches the numbers count down. It takes several minutes for the lift to move.
Four. Three. Two.
Hurry. Downstairs.
One.
Ding!
He jogs out and scans the lobby. Still empty. For some reason, a feeling of dread stirs in the pit of his stomach. He glances at his watch again.
It’s exactly 11:00 PM.
RIIIIIING.
His attention is snapped to the rotary phone that sits behind the front desk.
RIIIIIING.
Yunho slowly approaches, glancing around.
“Anyone here?” He calls out, hoping a desk attendant would somehow materialize from somewhere. But of course, he receives no answer.
RIIIIING.
“Christ sake,” he mutters before reaching down and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”
“-wayward boy”
“Huh?”
Click.
All that remains is the dial tone. He places the handset back on its stand with a shaky hand. The dread in the pit of his stomach grows tenfold.
Upstairs. Hotel Room. Upstairs.
“Guess I should go back up,” He mumbles as he turns away from the desk. Bile threatens to ascend his throat. He wipes sweaty palms against his wool pants. Why am I so anxious all of a sudden?
As he pivots, he sees an obscured figure, one hand seemingly stuffed into a front pocket. A head shrouded in shadow turns on its neck, glancing back almost mechanically at a dark corner where the ceiling meets the wall. The slender shadow disappears through closed elevator doors.
Ding!
Yunho jogs over to find that the lift is empty, no one in sight. He mechanically steps in, having ridden this lift more times in the last few hours than one typically would. Hours? Days? Years? How long has it been?
He checks his watch.
11:00 PM.
Right. It’s 11:00 PM.
His eyes flick to the numbers counting their way up.
Six. Seven. Eight.
He can’t help but focus on his hands trembling at their place at his sides.
Nine. Ten.
Ding!
Yunho pushes out, feeling almost as if his world is collapsing in on itself.
To your room. Bathroom. Hurry.
He speedwalks down the hall, stopping when he hears a noise behind him. Turning, he sees a dark silhouette of a man standing by the elevator he just stepped off of.
His heart rate picks up. Yunho quickly rounds the corner, just wanting to get back to his room.
Yes. Your room. Hurry.
He jogs to 1024, turning his head to see that the silhouette had followed him. He swears for a moment he could hear a muffled voice call out,
'Hey- wait!'
He swallows, quickly pushing in and shutting the doors behind him with a shaky exhale. Wetness forms on his face. Yunho reaches his fingers up to find tears spilling from his eyes. Why am I crying?
Bathroom. Bathroom now.
He shuffles to the bathroom, legs moving on their own. His eyes fall to the clawfoot tub in the middle of the room, somehow already filled with water.
“How…?”
He approaches, staring down at the faucet that slowly drips, sending ripples across the surface.
Touch.
He bends down, kneeling on the cool tile, finger dipping into the water. It’s warm, almost as if it were just filled moments ago.
Reach in.
He does just that, submerging his sleeved arms. Flat palms push against the bottom of the tub. The urge to hold some invisible force underwater grows stronger.
More pressure.
He pushes against the ceramic even harder, pressing and pressing until-
Enough. Get in.
Yunho stands, not thinking when he moves a foot into the bath, socks, shoes, and the bottom of his pants soaking with water. Yet he’s not deterred, his other foot joining after the first. He sinks into the vessel, feeling the warmth envelope him like a blanket.
He sighs, closing his eyes and dipping his head back. Water begins creeping up and splashing over his face. His head sinks under the surface.
-
-
-
“What’s a handsome bachelor like you doing in a place like this?” A voice rings out behind him. Yunho turns and spots a tall, built individual standing behind the bar. Strong hands clean the inside of a glass.
“I’m the new lounge singer,” Yunho responds, jacket slung over an arm. The other man smirks, nodding.
“Are you now? And does this new lounge singer have a name?”
“Jeong Yunho.”
“Shall I get you something to drink, Yunho?” The bartender sets down the glass, tossing the rag over his shoulder as he eyes up the singer. Yunho returns the look, nodding and taking a seat in one of the barstools.
“An old-fashioned, please. And who will be making my drink? ” He rests his chin on his hand, tilting his head as his eyes flick to the plush lips no more than 2 feet away.
“A very dapper and very handsome barman that goes by the name Song Mingi.”
Yunho lets out a soft chuckle as he watches the fellow get to work on his cocktail.
-
Yunho steps off the stage, eyes falling to Mingi putting up chairs in the club. It’s long passed closed, leaving the two men by themselves.
“Great show tonight. Like always.” The bartender says as he glances up, giving Yunho a cheeky grin.
Yunho’s legs move to the other man, lending him help. “You know, people tend to have more fun when they’re tipsy. So I really have you to thank for my lively audience.”
Mingi flashes the singer a toothy smile before turning to meander back to the bar.
“It’s late. Why don’t you get out of here?”
Yunho glides past him, slipping behind the counter.
“What are you doing?” Mingi crosses his arms over his chest, giving Yunho a knowing look, despite the smirk spread across his lips.
Yunho ignores the bartender and grabs a record from the case under the counter, before placing it on the player that sits next to some stacked glasses.
Delicate fingers place the needle on the vinyl, a jazzy tune beginning to play.
“Yunho…” Mingi starts, watching as the singer slides around the counter and spins over to him. He stops and bows, holding a hand towards the bartender.
“Shall we dance?” Yunho glances up, giving his counterpart a cocky smirk.
“You know I have two left feet…”
“Nonsense!” Yunho snatches Mingi’s hand and drags him to the floor. The other man laughs as the singer spins him around.
The two men weave between tables, bodies pressed close.
“You’re a natural!” Yunho grins as he twirls Mingi, who hasn’t stopped laughing.
As the song comes to a slow close, the singer dips his partner, face leaning in close. Eyes glance down at lips, before lips make contact.
-
“Want one?” Mingi holds out a smoke, his own held between teeth. Yunho nods and takes it, letting his partner give him a light.
The two men are sprawled out on the roof of Yunho’s apartment building, having shared a nice evening filled with laughter and booze. Mingi blows out smoke as his eyes catch a shooting star that moves across the horizon.
“I’m not sure we can keep this up.” He says softly, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.
Yunho turns his head to look at the other man. “What?”
“My pops came to visit the other day. He saw you exit my unit. He saw us kiss.”
“Mingi…” Yunho tosses his cigarette to the side, shifting his body so he can look at his partner, who doesn’t return the gaze.
“He says we’re sick in the head, Yunho.” Mingi’s jaw clenches as his voice shakes.
“That’s not true,” Yunho starts, reaching out to hold his partner’s hand with both of his.
“He threatened to tell. Everyone is going to know. They’re going to hurt you, Yunho. I can’t let that happen!” Tears roll down his cheeks as his head finally turns to meet his companion’s.
“Shhh,” Yunho pulls Mingi into a tight embrace, hand burying into his hair. The other man lets out a choked gasp, tucking his head into his lover’s neck. “We can run away. To a new city. No one will know about us, and we can be happy. We can be safe.”
Mingi pulls back, puffy eyes meeting Yunho’s, “Really?”
“Yes, my love. I can’t even fathom letting you go.” Yunho’s hand moves up to cup Mingi’s cheek, swiping a stray tear away. “Let’s make a plan. Tomorrow. Meet at Grand Hotel Atiny. I’ll check in and then meet you at the lobby. How does 11:00 PM sound?”
Mingi takes in a deep breath, sniffling and nodding, “11:00 PM. And if I’m not there, don’t wait for me, Yunho. Just leave. So I at least know you’re safe.”
“Don’t say that, love.” Yunho’s eyebrows knit together. “We can leave together.”
Mingi pulls Yunho back into the embrace, nestling together onto the blanket.
“I hope so.”
-
Yunho takes a deep breath, entering the hotel elevator after having checked in. He glances at his watch.
8:00 PM.
Only a few more hours. Then we’re free.
The elevator dings as it stops on the 10th floor, doors opening to reveal an ornate hallway. He steps off, walking for a bit as he makes his way to his room.
1019…1020…1021…1022…
His legs stop at a set of double doors.
1024.
He unlocks the room with the key and steps in, taking in the nice interior.
Setting his few belongings down, he loosens his tie and tosses his jacket to the side.
Might as well get comfortable as I wait…
Yunho lies back on the bed, resting his eyes just for a moment…
-
His eyes fly open as he frantically checks the time.
10:55 PM.
“Shit!” He springs out of bed, grabbing his jacket and slipping it and his shoes on before running towards the door. He freezes, jogging back to the mirror hung on the wall to fix some stray hairs that are sticking out of place after his nap. A grumble escapes his mouth as his cowlick refuses to sit properly. Once satisfied, he quickly moves out of his room and to the elevator, entering once the doors slide open.
Fingers anxiously tap the railing as the counter flashes, showing the approach to the lobby.
Three. Two. One.
The metal doors slide open. Yunho jogs out, scanning the entry. Yet the place is empty, aside from the desk employee and a woman reading a newspaper on the sofa.
Yunho glances at his watch.
11:01 PM.
He lets out a shaky sigh. He’s just late. Any moment now.
Yet many moments pass, and Mingi doesn’t walk through the door. Yunho, now sitting on the sofa parallel to the woman, checks his watch.
11:47 PM.
He jumps up from his spot, striding over to the lobby desk. The employee glances up from their crossword, giving Yunho a polite smile.
“Did a tall man happen to come in earlier, asking about meeting someone?”
The attendant shakes their head.
Yunho turns and glances back at the door, fingers nervously tapping on the desk.
“Um, do you mind if I make a call?”
The attendant grabs the rotary phone and places it on the counter in front of Yunho.
Slender fingers dial the number he knows by heart.
Click.
“Mingi! It’s me, are you coming or wha-”
“Mingi isn’t coming.” An unfamiliar voice barks out on the other end. “He’s not some wayward boy like you. So you’re going to leave my son alone. Do you hear me, young man!?”
Yunho’s blood turns cold in his veins. He grips the phone tightly.
“Sir, it’s not!-”
Click.
The other end is silent. Yunho places the phone on its stand with a shaky hand.
He’s eyed cautiously by the desk attendant as he makes his way to the elevator, vacant look in his eyes.
No. This can’t be happening.
Ding!
Elevator doors open, and Yunho robotically climbs in.
Bile ascends his throat as the numbers tick their way up.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
His hands tremble at their place at his side. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes.
Ten.
Yunho shuffles out of the elevator. Only once he enters his room do the tears spill.
-
Yunho takes another swig of the whiskey, the bottle almost empty. We were going to have a celebratory drink. A toast to our freedom.
“Fuck…Mingi…” Yunho croaks, sniffling as he wipes at his puffy eyes.
He staggers over to the bathroom, jacket and shoes lost a long time ago, yet the suit has survived. He glances at himself in the mirror over the sink. His hair is completely disheveled, and his nose and eyes are red and swollen. He checks his watch.
3:15 AM.
He teeters to the bathtub, taking another swig from the bottle. He runs the tap, letting the water fill the tub. Not even bothering to take off his clothes, too drunk and distracted to care, he just climbs in. The warm water envelops him like a soft blanket, yet it does nothing to ease his broken heart or the ache in his head from the crying and the alcohol that runs through his veins.
He groans as he lets himself sink in the water. His eyelids flutter shut, revealing a man standing behind a bar, grinning. A man being twirled around a dance floor, laughing, smoking, stealing a kiss.
Yunho’s head sinks under the surface.
Mingi accepts his invitation, allowing his partner to twirl him across the floor. He rests his face in the crook of Yunho’s neck. The two men sway in the middle of the empty club. Yunho’s thumb traces soothing circles along the other’s pointer finger.
“Dance with me forever?” Yunho whispers, hand splayed across his partner’s back.
“Always.”
-
-
-
Yunho’s eyes shoot open. The club…dancing…Mingi…the hotel…drowning…
He opens his mouth to scream, but instead inhales water, causing an instant burning sensation to spread into his chest and lungs.
He thrashes as he tries to climb out of the tub, but a dark silhouette looms across the surface. Slim, shadowed arms reach in and press against his chest.
“No!” Yunho screams, but indescribable pain pierces him. The shadow figure won’t let the man escape. He’s trapped.
Mingi…
Darkness creeps into Yunho’s vision. Just as his world turns completely dark, the obscured figure lightens to reveal himself, holding him down.
The shadow figure in the hall…in the room...in the lobby...
He was chasing himself.
No. No. Not like this.
How long has he been doing this? How long has he been reliving the last moments of his life, up until his lungs fill with water, sending him back to where he started?
Sleeved arms retreat as Yunho stops fighting against himself. His gaze turns glassy as the rest of his body goes limp.
-
-
-
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Leather dress shoes halt in front of the elevator. A pair of arms wiggle their way out of a fitted blazer, tossing it casually over a shoulder. Slim fingers fish a crumpled note out of the front pocket of a pair of wool dress pants.
10th Floor Reservation - Grand Hotel Atiny. Meet at 11:00 PM lobby. Don’t be late.