Work Text:
Sometimes, he wonders what it would be like to crawl inside Hanbin and live in him forever. To tear open the marrow of his bones and creep into his chest, right next to his beating heart. So full of love, everyone says, and Gyuvin wants to squeeze every drop of that love out until it bleeds dry down his own throat. Selfish, the way Hanbin always makes him feel.
“Ready for today?” Hanbin asks. He hasn’t slept. Gyuvin snuck back to the dorms to check up on him at seven and he was still awake, hurriedly folding a haphazard stack of papers that he’d immediately shoved into the void when he’d spotted Gyuvin’s face. His eyes are still puffy from yesterday. The lack of sleep probably doesn’t help. He looks like he might cry again at the sight of Gyuvin, bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. As if he’s holding it back. The perfect leader, even to the end.
Well. Gyuvin’s end, at least.
It’s a new beginning, everyone says, and in so many ways, he knows that’s true. But it’s the end of him and Hanbin and that’s somehow worse, especially when there are so many things he hasn’t said yet. So many secrets he’ll take to the grave.
Like the way he wants to lay Hanbin down on a bed of roses and pick him apart, layer by layer. His skin will go first, of course—epidermis, dermis, hypodermis in perfect order, until he can fit Hanbin’s red-raw muscles between his teeth. Hanbin’s veins will glitter up at him, stained blue-green in the waning sunset, and he will work through them, biting down on sapphire licorice until bone meets his jaw. That is where Gyuvin will make a home for himself, buried deep inside Hanbin’s marrow, nestled in the embrace of a corpse until he is gone too. They cannot make either of them leave if both of them are dead.
Like the way he wants to kiss Hanbin just as much as he wants to eat him, maybe a little bit of both, licking into his mouth until he can reach his tongue down his throat, where he will devour him whole—uvula, tonsil, epiglottis, maybe his hypopharynx if he tries hard enough. Shatter every joint in his own body so he can creep down Hanbin’s oesophagus and live there forever. Where they cannot separate them.
Like the way he wants to tell him everything, when they stand up there for the third day’s ending ment and he will let it all creep out of his throat, slow and lovely, truer than the stars. Their final concert will never end, because him and Hanbin will be frozen in time, comets stuck in parallel universes, meteorites locked in orbit.
“You’re going to be great.” Hanbin’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes for once and his lower lip looks like it might shake out of his face. He reaches over to press a hand to Gyuvin’s shoulder and Gyuvin wonders what it would be like to unzip the flesh starting at his wrist and slide into his veins. “Final concert as ZB1, we’ve got to give it our all, yeah?”
My final concert as ZB1, Gyuvin wants to say, but he doesn’t dare. As if voicing it out will make it true. Even though it’ll happen, all the same. Because even if he swallows Hanbin whole, even if he stitches himself into Hanbin’s skin, even if he falls to his knees right now and tells Hanbin that he loves him, the world will keep spinning. They will escort him back to the Yuehua building, mouth still stained with blood, and they will make him leave.
“And if I cry?” It isn’t a question. He knows he will.
Hanbin smiles—warm, golden, beautiful. Gyuvin will bottle it up and take it to Yuehua with him. He will prise open Hanbin’s chest and live inside his bones so they cannot take him away. “I’ll be right there crying with you.”