Archive of Our Own

The old world was long since gone. The virus had spread faster than any government could’ve coped with. Within a month the world had fallen to ruin. Walking corpses over running every town, city and country across the world.

It spread through physical touch, skin to skin, one brush, one grab, was all it took to seal your doom. It took a few hours for the infection to fully kick in but even then the urge to touch others, to spread the disease, was already subconsciously hardwired into their slowly rotting minds.

Even still, the human race persevered, stubborn creatures that they were. Settlements were erected. Guarded walls that housed the few that still had their sanity, their lives.

Jisung had been born in District 9; it was the only life he knew. His mother died during child birth and his father was infected a few years later on a supply run. The community did their best to raise him, children were the representation of hope after all, proof that life went on, rays of sunshine in the dark reality they existed inside of.

He learnt to do his part to help out. Tending the vegetable patches, cooking, mechanical work, learning and eventually teaching others how to fight, to scavenge. He was known as a bit of a jack of all trades, an ace in the pack.

“Is everything prepped for tomorrow?” Felix placed down a small lantern on the rickety table that separated their twin beds.

They were practically twins, born only a day apart. Felix was a highly trained medic; his expertise in treating injury and infection (most of them at least) was almost unmatched, his sunny personality bringing joy to anyone who spoke to him.

“As ready as it can be.” Jisung was already tucked under a blanket, bundled in as many layers as he could comfortably sleep in. Winter was rough.

“Are you scared?” Felix asked as he smoothed out his bed spread, moving a tattered pig plushie to the side to make room.

“Of course. Leaving the district is always a risk but it has to be done.”

Felix smiled at him, the candlelight casting gentle flickering shadows across his face. “You’re too good for this world sweetie, you know that?”

“Aren’t we all.” Jisung said in a sigh as Felix settled down, reaching over to extinguish the light and cast them in darkness.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They were on the hunt mostly for medical and cleaning supplies—anything they could find really—disinfectant was a must. On the rare occasion that an infected made it past their defences, everything needed to be disinfected. The rotten lumps of flesh had a habit of oozing fluid and bodily matter all over the place and one touch was all it took.

Jisung was fully suited up, not an inch of flesh exposed. Goggles, hat, scarf, gloves, thick bomber jacket with multiple layers underneath. The best defence against the infected was layers, that way even if they managed to grab and slice through the material there was more protection underneath.

The team he was to set out with consisted of six of the best scavengers the community had.

Chan was a seasoned veteran with the most successful scavenges of anyone in the community and he was therefore designated leader for the expedition. Changbin, his second in command, was a wall of muscle and a calming presence despite his burly appearance. Hyunjin was agile, quiet, and mostly kept to himself. Seungmin was most certainly the brains of the operation, an excellent navigator even if he was a little blunt. Jeongin was a loose cannon, his fighting skills were unmatched but he had a tendency to dive in head first without thinking about the consequences.

They’d all grown up together. Everyone knew everything when you spent so much time in such a confined space, it was hard not to get to know one another a little too well. That fact stood for everyone in Jisung’s life except for Minho—the seventh and final member of their scavenging team.

He’d arrived at District 9 along with a few others when Jisung was around fifteen. Minho was a few years older than him, he was handsome and yet aloof, a dark shadowy entity that seemed to skulk instead of walk. People fawned over him, old and young alike and in return, he treated them with little more than disdain. He spent most of his time milling around in the backrooms, sorting supplies, cooking meals, anything to keep himself isolated from the rest of them. Whenever he was out and about in the district he didn’t really speak to anyone, if he did, whoever he was conversing with often quickly moved on.

Minho always seemed to be staring, and it seemed as if it was at Jisung specifically, a contemplative frown constantly carved into his forehead. It put Jisung on edge, constantly checking over his shoulder, seeking out those watchful eyes. Why couldn’t he just mind his own business? He felt like he was being judged for every minute action he took and sometimes he preferred it when Minho remained hidden away. Out of sight, out of mind.

The one and only interaction he can remember having with Minho was not long after he’d showed up, he’d skipped over with cheeks lifted in joy at the possibility of a new friend, only to be immediately shunned. Minho practically screamed in his face before striding away, leaving Jisung publicly embarrassed and running back to his room to cry it out into Felix’s waiting arms. After that he mostly kept his distance, not looking for a repeat performance but the glaring continued. He had no idea what he’d done to be on the receiving end of such treatment, but on the bright side, maybe this expedition could be a chance to try and approach him and find out.

Jisung wasn’t even sure why Minho had been asked to come out with them. Yes, fine, he was an excellent fighter, he was strong and capable of making tough choices but he wasn’t exactly a team player. Jisung felt like his skin was already bubbling at the thought of having his watchful eyes on him for however many days they were outside the district for.

“Who can tell me the rules?” Chan stood just in front of the gates, voice assertive and face set into a stern expression.

“Stick together.” Seungmin spoke up.

“And if you do get separated?”

“If there are infected around, keep moving until you find a safe space to set off a flare and then find shelter.” Seungmin recited like he was reading from a textbook.

“Good, next?”

The others chipped in every now and then but it was mostly Seungmin, he probably had the rules tattooed on the back of his eyelids. Don’t touch anything, no fooling around, call out a code green for a group of infected ten or less, code black for anything over that.

They tended to stay out of the big cities which were the most populated areas of infected. It was a shame though, there was probably so many supplies in those areas but it wasn’t worth the danger the infected presented. Even so, on every expedition they took Jisung longed to explore. So many lost artifacts of the old world, he’d read about them of course but it would be nothing like seeing and experiencing the real thing. Music recorded and stored inside discs, lights that required no flame, he was enamored by it all. It was a pipe dream, a fantasy that could never be real but nonetheless, he dreamed of living just one day in that world.

“Don’t die.” Minho's voice pulled Jisung from the daydream he’d been lost in.

“Don’t get infected.” Seungmin cut in with a slight sneer.

“It’s the same thing, isn’t it.” Minho bit back frostily.

Jisung sighed quietly, it was going to be a long journey if this was the kind of interactions that could be expected.

Just before they were about to leave Felix ran over, clad in his medic apron and a big puffy snow jacket. He threw himself into Jisung’s arms, squeezing as tightly as he could as if he could melt himself through all the layers and bury himself in Jisung’s skin.

Jisung giggled when Felix pulled down his scarf to place a fat, wet kiss against his cheek before readjusting the fabric back in place.

“Good luck out there sweetie, don’t miss me too much.” Felix smiled sweetly as he gave one last squeeze before skipping back off to the med building.

Jisung watched him go, he was so cute, he wanted to squish his cheeks until he exploded. A body barging into his shoulder pulled him from his Felix induced revelry.

“We’re leaving, sweetheart.” Minho grunted at him, sneering out the pet name as an insult, a mockery of what Felix had called him. Jisung couldn’t see through the goggles but it certainly felt like Minho was glaring again, his body shrinking in on itself at the intensity.

They were the last two out of the gates, the wood and metal screeching as they were firmly sealed shut behind them.

It was scheduled to be a two week expedition. They were heading for a warehouse district on the far outskirts of the city. They’d been many times before; it wasn't a new route, practically routine at that point. Through the adjoining village, onto the highway, take the underpass under the city, more highway and they’d arrive at their destination.

The outward journey passed with little incident, they rested in shifts so there were always at least two of them awake, keeping guard against infected or anyone else they might bump into. They were fortunate that given the weather was abysmal they didn’t run into any living people and the infected they did come across were slowed down by the frost, their oozing liquids frozen to their rotting bodies.

They had a code green within the first few hours of their journey, only four of them. Changbin took out the first, practically body slamming the skeleton to the ground before smashing its fragile skull with his gloved fist. Jeongin ran off to the side on his own, giggling gleefully as he decapitated a particularly rotten looking infected, just narrowly dodging its clumsy swipe before driving his machete through its neck. Hyunjin and Chan tag teamed the third, approaching from either side and easily incapacitating it.

The fourth stumbled right into Jisung’s path, he pulled his hunting knife from his pocket, more than prepared to take it down but he was beat to the punch, Minho barrelling through the infected like a bowling ball, knocking it flying, a large chunk of its tibia splintering off into the icy grass. It didn’t stand up again, unable to with its now missing leg but it continued to groan and scramble around on the floor pathetically.

“I could’ve handled it.” Jisung said, a little bit offended if he was being honest with himself, he was more than capable of taking down a single infected and wasn’t entirely sure why Minho had stepped in at all.

Minho completely blanked him, stomping off ahead as if he hadn’t heard anything, as if Jisung didn’t exist at all. He let out a quiet sigh as he pocketed his knife and joined the rest of the group who were already moving on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jisung loved passing the stores through the small village on the way to the highway. Relics of the old word preserved in their smashed windows. Wedding dresses withered and yellow with age. TVs, phones, still in the display stands, technology that was completely useless in their new reality. Everything that was worth taking was gone, used up long ago, leaving behind only the luxuries that had no use in a world that was built on survival.

Spirits stayed fairly high despite the gloomy weather, the group chatting mindlessly amongst themselves. Minho didn’t join in much, other than the odd, blunt comment. His general demeanour was sour and grumpy and was bringing everyone down, at least from Jisung’s perspective. In spite of him he tried extra hard to be as chipper as humanly possible, maybe some of his positive energy would rub off on him. It half worked, the group was smiling and laughing through his stories but Minho continued to almost sulk a few steps behind everyone else.

They arrived at the warehouse district right on schedule and loaded up as many supplies as they could carry into their rucksacks. They were lucky there were still any supplies left really but the warehouses were plentiful and people could only scavenge so much in one go.

The weather got somehow worse on their journey back, a terrible snow storm hitting them right before they reached the underpass. Even with all the layers Jisung felt like his skin was blistering, the chill settling impossibly deep in his bones.

“Maybe we should take shelter till it passes?” Changbin shouted over the howling winds.

“No, we’ll be at the underpass within the hour, that will be enough shelter.” Chan declared.

Chan was wrong, the storm slowed them down considerably; it took almost three hours for them to reach the underpass, by which point they were all about ready to collapse with exhaustion. They all did just that, dumping down the rucksacks and collapsing into a pile of bodies, all over each other in an attempt to conserve warmth. Everyone apart from Minho who chose to huddle up against the opposite wall of the tunnel, away from the rest of them.

“It’s not ideal but we should make camp for now, we all need to rest.” Chan ordered, shuffling through the rucksacks to find their sleep supplies, a couple of metallic fabric sheets that they used as blankets, they were thin but the insulation they provided was actually pretty good.

“The safehouse just outside the underpass is a better option, we should go back.” Minho pulled himself to his feet again.

“I’m too tired.” Jeongin grumbled.

There was a loud rumble from somewhere above them, the tunnel walls trembling. Probably just the infected in the city moving around.

“It’s a few hours at most.” Minho affirmed, moving onward without waiting for anyone to follow him.

“I can’t moooove.” Hyunjin was completely limp on the ground, an arm thrown over his head.

“Minho we’re staying here.” Chan ordered in a stern voice.

“Then I’ll meet you back here tomorrow.” Minho threw up a peace sign, completely ignorant to everyone’s clear exhaustion.

Jisung felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, why did Minho have to be like this? He was so stubborn and was going to get himself injured or killed if he went off by himself. It was the first rule and he was egregiously breaking it.

He dumped his rucksack to the ground and pulled himself to his feet, his muscles aching furiously as he moved after Minho. Maybe he should have just let him go off alone but he couldn’t do it, the good in him screaming even louder than his tired body to go after him and at least try to get him to see reason.

“Hey, you shouldn’t go off on your own.” Jisung tried to keep his tone light and conversational.

The walls shook again, rubble falling from the ceiling of the tunnel in a dusty cloud.

“I don’t think it’s safe here.” Minho spat back with unneeded venom in his voice.

Jisung was a little taken aback, flinching ever so slightly away, but he didn’t cower completely. “You can’t just make decisions for everyone, if Chan says…”

A deafeningly loud crack. Before Jisung could react he was grabbed and he was running. The ceiling above them collapsed, stone and concrete raining down, along with it were the remains of what most likely used to be a shoe shop if the stray shoes Jisung spotted was anything to go off. It took only a few moments but it felt like a lot longer, time slowing as Minho dragged him away from the danger. The dust lingered in the air, creating a fog that had Jisung coughing even through his scarf. His heart pulsed with adrenaline as he caught his breath. The silence—following the crash of thundering rubble—near deafening.

The tunnel was completely sealed. Minho and Jisung on one side and everyone else on the other.

“Shit.” Jisung coughed, waving his hand in the air to try and clear some of the dust away.

“Are you ok?” Minho asked, finally letting go of his wrist and brushing himself down.

“Yeah, fine.” Jisung replied. Minho had probably just saved his life—being crushed by a collapsing tunnel was not the way he wanted to go—but also, if Minho hadn’t strayed from the others they’d all still be together and not separated by a wall of rubble.

“Are you two alright?” Chan's voice was muffled and quiet despite the fact he was clearly shouting.

“Yeah we’re ok, everything fine on that side?” Minho shouted back.

There was a moment of silence, Jisung’s heart pulsated rapidly, he could hear it echoing, feel the painful thumps against his ribcage…

“We’re all good.”

He let out a deep, relieved breath. Thank goodness everyone was safe, he wouldn’t be able to cope with the pain of losing one of them, these people were his family, they were all he had in the world.

“So what’s the plan, oh mighty leader.” Minho drawled loudly, clear disdain in his voice, as if it wasn’t his fault they were separated in the first place.

Chan clearly couldn’t discern the contempt or he chose to ignore it in favour of getting them out of the tricky situation they’d found themselves in. “You’re gonna have to go through the city, it’s the only way back to the district.”

Through the city? Was he insane? It was crawling with infected, it would be hard enough to traverse the crowded area with all of them let alone just Jisung and Minho alone.

“That’s a death wish.” Jisung shouted back.

“I know, I’m sorry but you don’t have much of a choice.”

Minho scoffed as he pulled his hat from his head, throwing it to the floor to rake a hand through his auburn hair.

Chan's voice echoed quietly through the barricade of rubble. “We will meet you at the safehouse on the other side of the underpass, you have flares, if anything…goes wrong,” If they get infected and die is what Chan was failing to say. “Just set one off to let us know.”

“Fucking perfect.” Minho muttered, his fists tensed at his sides. He grabbed his hat off the floor, huffing under his breath as he put it back on his head before walking back towards the entrance of the underpass, not waiting for Jisung to follow.

Jisung shouted out a quick reply to Chan before jogging after Minho. He felt considerably lighter without his backpack…Shit. All their supplies, food, water. They only had whatever was in Minho’s pack to share between the two of them, at least until they could meet back up with the others—if they even made it that far.

“We need to look after each other if we want to get through this.” Jisung was trying to be positive but now that they were alone Minhos' frostiness seemed to have increased tenfold.

“I didn’t ask you to come after me.” Minho bit back, readjusting his rucksack.

They weaved through abandoned cars, rusted metal corpses with shattered windows. The rubber wheels deflated and shrivelled, Jisung related strongly to their disheveled state.

“If I hadn’t you’d be all alone right now.” Jisung's voice was small, meek. For some reason he felt desperately nervous.

“Yeah, so what?” Minho scoffed, brushing him off like it was a detriment that he was here, a burden. Jisung didn’t anger easily but he felt a spark of something inside, like a chipped flint knocking into a stone.

“So what?!” Jisung rounded in front of Minho, forcing him to stop moving. “You think you can make it through the city on your own? Even with the two of us the chances are…slim.” He grimaced.

Minho shook his head, barging into Jisung’s shoulder as he moved around him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, sweetheart.”

Jisung wasn’t a fan of the new pet name he’d taken to using, he spat it out with such deep hatred. “Fine, talking with you is clearly pointless.” He spoke under his breath, feeling crestfallen and wondering why he was even bothering to try to get Minho to talk with him, he clearly wanted nothing to do with him for some reason.

Minho heard, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction before spitting back a venomous reply that had Jisung well and truly shutting down. “Well then maybe you should just shut up then.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They didn’t talk as they made their way out of the underpass, the tense silence sustained as they approached the outskirts of the city. The skyscrapers were still standing tall in the distance, a winding maze of city streets for them to navigate through with no map, no backup and only one another to rely on.

Jisung was stewing, he wasn’t annoyed per say but he certainly wasn’t feeling as positive as he usually would be when they were out scavenging. He just didn’t understand what Minho's problem with him was, they’d barely spoken since he started living in the district. He couldn't come up with a single instance where he would’ve done something to piss Minho off enough for him to treat him with such intense disdain.

The snow storm powered on, freezing flakes dusting over their goggles forcing them to scrub over their eyes every few moments, like an old world wind screen wiper.

Daylight was quickly fading, with the storm already reducing their vision; they'd stand no chance in the dark if a horde of infected came at them. The closer they got to the city the more of them spawned in, their rackety skeletal forms slowly trailing behind them in the snow. There were a little over ten currently trundling behind them and that number would only grow the further they ventured inward. It wasn’t worth trying to fight so many off, they needed to conserve their energy in case of emergencies.

As scary as it was being surrounded by infected Jisung couldn’t help but take in the amazing surroundings. It was all so big, he’d never seen anything like it before, the buildings towered so high they reached into the clouds. Although almost everything was overrun with wildlife he could still see the street signs on each corner they passed, the thousands of tiny windows embedded into each building reflecting the waning light of the day. Signs that likely once glowed in aid of advertising businesses. Megaverse arcade, Bank of Korea, Half-time bar & restaurant, Karma casino. He took a quick peek through the window of the casino as they walked past, so many strange machines, colourful and vibrant even in their stagnant state. He was mesmerised, what an amazing life humans of the old world must’ve lived in this place. When they could do things purely for the sake of creating joy and didn’t have to worry about a deadly plague hunting them down and turning them into a walking corpse.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, his scarf slipping down slightly. He was jolted out of his daydreaming and pulled out of the way of a lamppost he was about to walk head first into. “What the fuck are you doing? Will you get out of your head, you’re gonna get us both killed.”

Jisung was tired and just trying to enjoy himself. Why was Minho so offended by every little thing he did?

“A knock on the head won’t kill me and it certainly won’t affect you.” Jisung said defensively, he didn’t mean to be rude but he was tired of being treated like a burden.

“If you give yourself a concussion, that in fact does affect me. You need to be more aware of your surroundings sweetheart.”

Jisung was about to bite back about the annoying pet name but a loud rumble quickly shut them both up, their heads simultaneously snapping toward the noise.

Jisung’s eyes went wide inside his goggles, his jaw falling open and his breath picking up speed, little puffs of condensation appearing where his warm breath met the bitingly cold air.

There were so many of them. Hundreds if not thousands of infected rounding the corner, tripping over one another in their haste to move toward them, disgusting rotted goo dripping from their dislocated jaws and empty eye sockets.

“Shit, we’ve gotta go.” Minho ordered, grabbing Jisung’s wrists and setting off in a fast walk.

“I don’t think we can outrun them.” Jisung panted, he was already so deflated of energy but they couldn’t afford to slow down anymore than they already had.

“We have to try, the quicker we get through the city, the better.”

They rounded a corner, following the sign posts that would guide them toward the northern edge of the city—their way home. The road was blocked, a fallen building having spilled bricks into an impassable barricade.

“Fuck.” Minho grumbled, rerouting them toward the next street.

Jisung turned the corner first only to burst out into a scream. An infected lunged at him, its rotten hand reaching out for his face. It was only then he realised the cool air tickling the skin of his lips. Bare skin, that the infected was about to make contact with…

Minho darted forward at an almost inhuman speed, throwing Jisung to the side, his body colliding with a concrete pillar from a skyscraper. Minho delivered a mean kick straight into the infected’s chest, bones shattering as his foot splintered through its ribcage, toxic goo covering his leather boot. The infected fell to the ground with a crash, alerting the others on the street to their presence. It was filled with them, some still standing, others laying in piles of bones and grotesque grey withered skin. They snapped to attention, almost as if they’d been in stasis and the commotion had reawakened them. They began moving towards them, a cacophonous groan of the symphony of the dead creating a horrible discordious noise that grated on Jisung’s ears, filling his body with adrenaline and fear.

“We have to take shelter somewhere, there’s too many of them.” Jisung forced out, his body frozen to the spot, still in shock from the extremely close call.

“And where would you suggest we fucking go?!” Minho barked, frustration clear in his tone but also something else, his words quivering slightly, he was scared. Not surprising, if that infected had managed to grab them, make skin on skin contact, they’d have both been dead.

Jisung shook his head, snapping himself back to reality, he was alive, Minho had saved him but he couldn’t focus on that right now. They needed to escape and he needed to think fast. He looked around frantically, searching for somewhere, anywhere that they might be able to hide out for a short while, at least until the hordes had dispersed a little. He spotted a tilted sign on the side of the building, some of the letters missing but not enough to make it illegible.

H te Del L na.

He grabbed Minho's arm, not bothering to explain, dragging him across the fresh snow that had settled on the road and pulling them both through the cracked glass of the front door.

There was a sparkling crystal chandelier hanging over the large open space of the foyer, the once red carpet, muddied and stained. The front desk was covered in thousands of skittering bugs, the wood chipped and eroded. He took a wide berth around it, heading for the door that sign posted the stairs.

“What is this place?” Minho asked as they took the steps two at a time. There was an infected swaying mindlessly somewhere around the fourth floor—Jisung had lost count—his thighs burning with each turn they took. Minho quickly elbowed its fragile form, sending it tumbling down the space between the rails, a horrific crack ringing out when it hit the tiles of the ground floor.

“It’s…a hotel…I think.” Jisung got out through panting breaths, forcing his body to keep climbing, keep moving upward and away from the danger below.

Some of the infected had made their way in after them, their groans echoing in the small contained space of the stairway. Only they weren’t just coming from below, but above as well. It was hard to tell how many, definitely enough to be worried about.

“Through here.” Minho pulled them through a door, possibly somewhere around the eleventh floor. The corridor was long, a horrible wet pile of what used to be an infected melting into the carpet in the doorway.

As they rounded a corner an infected jumped out at them, it was a fresh one, human features still mostly intact, one piercing blue eye still firmly in its socket, the other bloodied and hollow.

Minho pulled his hunting knife out, his gloved hands jabbing towards the infected in an effort to take it out. The infected swiftly dodged, stumbling to the side and causing Minho’s momentum to carry him into a strange white box that was hanging off of the wall.

Sparks jumped in the air, like tiny lightning bolts, jumping between the exposed wiring that Minho's body slam had exposed. Neither of them noticed, too busy fighting off the nearly human infected that kept throwing itself at them.

Minho managed to get a grip on the infected’s shoulder, jabbing his blade into the gooey flesh of its temple, just eroded enough to be penetrated. It slumped to the ground with a final wispy groan.

They began trying door handles, but every single one was locked, the handles juddering in place instead of sliding down as they should. Jisung couldn’t make sense of it, there was no padlock, a strange slot in place of where you would put a regular key.

“What do we do?” Jisung was panicking, the horde was approaching them, he could hear their unsteady steps moving up and down the stairs, horrible crashes every few seconds as they likely fell over each other in their need to get to them.

“I don’t know sweetheart, this was your plan, figure it out?!” Minho shot back, still hissing out the pet name as an insult, tugging on door handles as they passed them.

Jisung’s chest panged at the use of the cruel name, his hope dwindling into rubble. Had he really doomed them both, trapped them in an endless maze of locked doors with no escape other than back through the infected they’d been running from.

A flash of green caught his eye. It wasn’t large, just a small green beam of light on the strange black contraption that kept the doors locked. When he grabbed the handle he said a little prayer in his mind, not to any particular entity, just for himself, for Minho, for their continued existence. The door clicked as it slid open, a wave of pure relief overcoming him as he laughed.

“Over here!” He called out, entering the room and taking in his surroundings, immediately stunned still.

Minho barrelled in behind him—nearly knocking Jisung over given that he’d stopped directly in the entryway—he slammed the door closed, twisting the small metal lock that clicked softly to confirm it had slipped into place. Minho scoffed to himself at the stupidity, he couldn’t even see a lock, it felt as if there was nothing to protect them against the strength of hundreds of dead bodies that might soon be outside the door. He marched into the room, grabbing the closest piece of furniture which happened to be a desk and dragging it—with great difficulty—across the carpet until it was in front of the door. It wasn’t perfect but it would hold for a while, at least enough time for them to rest and come up with a plan.

“Minho…” Jisung breathed, still barely able to comprehend what was happening, the strange almost fantasy situation they’d stumbled upon.

Minho was leant over the desk, his back towards the room. Desperately catching his breath, the adrenaline slowly fizzling out of his veins and leaving him feeling tired and irritable.

“What….” Minho turned to face him, finally taking in the view that had Jisung so stunned in the first place.

Neither of them had ever seen anything like it. The hotel room was essentially an entire home, a large kitchen equipped with an oven, fridge, sink and plenty of counter top space. It led into an open plan living space, a large plush sofa, brown velvety material littered with fuzzy looking cushions and a beige blanket with little white polka dots. A TV screen floating on the wall above a brick fireplace. There was more to the room, doors leading further in but neither of them could move because it wasn’t the luxury of the room that had them frozen in place.

In the corner of the room a lamp stood, nothing special, a tall metal beam with a pleated shade over the bulb. The strange thing was the soft glow coming from the electric appliance. It wasn’t just the lamp, a strange buzz emanating from the fridge in the kitchen. The oven—an electric one if the flat top was anything to go off—had a small blinking red light on the front, a series of zeros blipping on and off the tiny screen. Even the TV, while powered off, had a small red light in the bottom left corner. This room had power, electricity. Who knows where it was coming from, some kind of generator that still had enough power stored to run the few appliances in the room. Whatever it was, it felt like magic.

Neither of them said anything, too confused and astounded to even think about putting their feelings into words.

Minho moved first, he pulled off his hat, goggles and mask, throwing them to the ground and entering the kitchen, approaching the oven with suspicion. His hand hovered over the little knobs that would ignite the hob, eyeing the entire thing like it was gonna jump to life and slaughter him if he touched it. Something sparked in his eyes just before his hand turned the knob, watching and waiting for something to happen. After a few moments the hob began to glow, a slow emanating pulse of heat touching Minho's hand when he hovered it over the surface.

“I’m not hallucinating, right?” He whispered, in complete disbelief, despite the reality that was in front of them.

Jisung had taken off his soggy outer layers, laying them down on the desk that kept the door barricaded closed. He moved into the living area, studying the remote that had been resting on the sofa. So many strange buttons adorned with little symbols that he couldn’t read. He made an educated guess, opting for the big red button in the corner, it matched the colour of the light on the TV, that was his logic at least. Miraculously he was right, the TV screen buzzing to life. Strange words popped up on the screen almost like some kind of code before it connected up to something. A cheery tune filled the room as a sparkling castle flashed up on the screen. Tears filled his eyes as the pictures moved, vibrant colour, a fantastical dream playing out in front of him. A disbelieving laugh fell out of him, small and childish, filled with unfiltered glee. It built and built, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“How is this real?” He managed to get out through hiccuped breaths.

“I have no idea.” Minho replied, he looked completely astounded, slightly less gleeful than Jisung but no less impressed by the strange gift they’d stumbled upon.

“Is the water working?”

Minho moved to the sink, twisting the tap. Fresh clean water poured out, tinkling gently as it made contact with the metallic basin.

“Oh my god!” Jisung practically squealed as he ran through the hotel room. He found the bathroom without much issue, the first thing catching his eye being a spacious walk in shower with a frosted glass door. He flicked on a random switch, once again letting intuition guide him. Water showered down in a beautiful waterfall, so enticing, he could feel the heat steaming off of it. He was about to dip his hand under the spray when Minho pulled him back by his shoulder, a frown on his face.

“Don’t touch it, we don’t know if it’s clean.”

“It looks fine.” Jisung was hypnotised by the waterfall, unable to take his eyes away from it.

Minho went around him, flicking off the stream, small droplets tinkling out as it came to a stop. “We can’t trust any of this. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Jisung left the room, hoping to get some space to enjoy the strange situation by himself but apparently Minho was adamant on acting like a shadow, looming over Jisung and casting his darkness over the light that was glowing in Jisung’s eyes.

The bedroom was needlessly extravagant. A vast space filled with warm colours, a large window offering a beautiful view of the city skyline, deep maroon curtains draped delicately around the border. A four poster bed made of a shiny brown wood, the sheets looked impossibly plush. Fluffy white pillows and a thick duvet smoothed perfectly over silk sheets.

Jisung whipped open the wardrobe a pair of fluffy white bathrobes immediately catching his eye. It wasn’t yellowed and withered like the white dresses in the shop window had been. Completely pristine. The entire hotel room was like a time capsule, a perfect preservation of the old world and how it had once been.

“This place is amazing.” He whispered softly to himself.

“I think we should leave.” Minho said bluntly.

Jisung turned around with a look of astonishment. “Leave? Are you kidding?”

“Do I look like I’m joking around?” Minho's face remained completely blank, stone cold and unmoved.

“There’s a horde of infected out there,” Jisung gestured out toward the main area of the hotel room. “And we need to rest, why not here?”

“It feels…wrong. I can’t explain it.” Minho crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like a petulant child who’d been denied a second portion of dinner. He clearly didn’t know why the place was giving him such strange vibes but it was obviously thrusting a massive buzz killing stick up his butt.

“Why don’t we just enjoy it? I mean when have you ever seen anything like this in your entire life? Working power, TVs, an electric stove. Imagine how quickly you’ll be able to cook with that thing.”

As if on queue Minho’s stomach rumbled loudly, his hand reaching down to clutch over it as if he could hide the gurgling noise.

Jisung gave a knowing smirk as he saw the idea light up something in Minho's eyes. He may not know a lot about his unwilling companion but he knew he had a deep passion for cooking.

“Well…I guess we should eat.” Minho admitted. Jisung squealed, wiggling his butt as if the excitable energy was unable to be contained in his tiny body. He ran back towards the living area, Minho shadowing him, his own small smile thankfully hidden from Jisung, he wouldn’t dare let him know that he actually felt a hint of fondness.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

While Minho bashed and clanged pots around in the kitchen, Jisung was transfixed by the TV. It was incredible, the colours were so vivid he almost felt like he was really there. A lush rainforest jungle, a strange half naked man swinging through the trees with monkeys by his side and there was singing, a melodic voice harmonising perfectly with the instrumental. The scene changed and Jisung laughed out loud, turning toward the kitchen while pointing at the TV screen.

“Hey look, Minho it’s you.”

Minho lifted his head from where he’d been emptying a flask of assorted root vegetables, beans and broth into a pan. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by the scene, monkeys and other jungle animals bashing pots and creating a jolly tune. He levelled Jisung with a glare, the man only beaming even brighter, his shoulders shimmying in time with the music.

Jisung returned to his entertainment and Minho focused back on cooking. As much as he loathed to admit it, Jisung had been right. The electric hob heated the food up so quickly, the broth bubbling away gently within what felt like seconds compared to the hours it would take back in the district. Of course he was used to cooking much larger batches but even still. The kitchen was fully stocked, cutlery, plates, pots and pans of every shape and size. He’d definitely be taking some of the knives back with him, the larger ones would make good weapons and the smaller ones would be of great use in the kitchens back home.

“Food is done.” Minho declared as he finished scooping the hot broth into two bowls for them both. It was only a half portion given that Jisung had allowed his rucksack to be separated from him but even so, it warmed their rumbling bellies.

They both watched the TV in silence as they ate and after they’d finished too. The story was sweet, the man got the girl, the villain got what he deserved. A children’s show most probably but it was entertaining either way. The picture faded, as text began rolling up the screen, thousands of names. It was strange to think that none of those people existed anymore, or perhaps they still did, stumbling around as little more than a wrinkled sack of brittle bones and toxic substances.

Jisung hardly knew what to do with himself when it had finished. There were tears in his eyes but they weren’t particularly sad, nor happy. He was just so overwhelmed by it all.

“I can’t believe we just watched a real life movie.”

“Well technically, I don’t know if you noticed sweetheart, but those people weren’t real.” Minho whispered as if it was a secret, condescension dripping from his words.

Jisung elbowed Minho in the ribs, causing him to let out an ‘oof’ sound as the air was knocked out of him.

“You know what I meant.” Jisung huffed, burying his chin in his chest and pulling his knees up to meet it. That crestfallen feeling was back again pushing down on his chest with a heavy pressure.

“Hey,” Minho's fingers tapped his chin, gently lifting his head and forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re right, it’s unbelievable. This entire place, it feels kind of like…magical.”

Something in the air changed in that moment, Jisung got lost in the sparkle of Minho's eyes, so warm and sincere. He quickly snapped himself out of his revelry, this was Minho he was talking about, had never shown that he had a warm bone in his body but perhaps…no, there were much more exciting things to focus on right now.

“Right?!” Jisung exclaimed. “I mean look at this,” He hopped over the back of the sofa, nearly faceplanting in his haste to get to his feet. He gestured widely to the CD player that was sitting on a dresser on the opposite wall to the TV, it was one of the first things he’d locked onto when they’d arrived, he loved music so much. “Do you think it works?”

“Only one way to find out.” Minho joined him, opening the dresser doors to reveal an entire collection of CD’s. They were a little dusty but otherwise looked completely fine. Jisung picked one at random, none of the names meant anything to him so he just went off of vibes from the cover. It was blue, a deep expanse of water, a single body floating in the image.

“Who the fuck is Ben Howard?” Minho asked, looking to Jisung for answers he didn’t have.

“No idea, I just like the cover.”

“Well put it on then, let’s see if old Benny is any good.”

Jisung stood holding the CD delicately between his fingers. “I…I don’t know how.” He flushed slightly in embarrassment, he really had no idea what to do with the shiny disc, he assumed he needed to insert it somehow but he didn’t have the faintest clue where.

Minho tutted, rolling his eyes as he gently snatched the CD from Jisung, he quickly wiped it on his t-shirt before pressing a button on the machine, a flap lifting to reveal a perfectly CD sized space. Jisung watched on in amazement as Minho seemed to work the machine with ease. The CD let out a satisfying click when it was slotted into place.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Jisung asked, unable to keep the amazement out of his voice.

Minho paused looking contemplative and thoughtful, his mouth opening and closing a few times before any noise actually came out.

“Before we came to district 9, the people I was travelling with had us hide out in an old record shop for a few weeks while they scouted the area, there wasn’t much to do all day other than mess with the equipment there. None of it played anything of course.”

“You’ve never mentioned that before.” It came out a lot softer than Jisung expected it to.

Minho shrugged. “We’ve never really chatted before.”

Jisung jumped to his own defence, even though he wasn’t really sure what he was defending against. “Yeah well, that's because you spend all your time glaring at me, rather than bringing up whatever issue you have.”

They were both a little stunned by Jisung’s statement, neither of them had ever broached the topic of the issue that clearly existed between them but it was better now than never Jisung supposed.

Minho was blinking a lot, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t have an issue with you and I’m not…” His cheeks flushed, pink like a fresh cherry blossom, only a hint of colour, barely enough to be noticed. “I don’t glare.”

“You’re always looking at me.” Jisung said back, a little annoyed at Minho's dismissal.

“Looking and glaring are not the same thing. Am I not allowed to look?”

This time it was Jisung’s turn to blush a little. Why was he suddenly feeling all hot and bothered? I mean of course Minho was allowed to look, it’s just… “I don’t really see what there is to look at.” His reply was small, muttered in a self deprecating manner.

Minho hit a button and the CD player whirred to life, a low hum emanating from the machine before music began to pour out of the speakers.

The song was slow, a calming tune played on acoustic guitar, adorned with a chorus of voices. As the song continued a male voice began to sing. The accent was hard to understand at parts but Jisung picked out a few lyrics at points that clung to him, sticky and soft.

ꪆ⏝ ི 𝄞 ྀ ⏝ৎ
‘We stood, steady as the stars in the woods, so happy-hearted, and the warmth rang true inside these bones…’
ꪆ⏝ ི 𝄞 ྀ ⏝ৎ

Jisung was transfixed, it was so melodic, somehow both sad and happy at the same time. It felt like a calming breeze in the summer or a warm hug from an old friend.

The guitar picked up towards the end, he had of course heard people play guitar before, they had one in the district but no one could play it as expertly as this man clearly could. He’d likely dedicated countless hours to the craft. Time that people just didn’t have in the new world.

When the song tapered out, he turned to see Minho looking at him again. It was the same face he always wore when he looked at Jisung but he had never seen it from up close before. There was a softness to his eyes despite the creases that adorned his forehead, a slight curl to his lip that could almost be construed as a smile, small, almost as if he was trying to hold it in.

“You’re looking at me again.” Jisung whispered, he hadn’t realised how close they were. Minho’s hand brushing against his as he moved to click a button on the CD player, a new song starting up.

“I know.” Minho replied back just as quietly. The new song took a while to kick in and in the silence Jisung found himself transfixed on something entirely different. Their eyes were locked onto one another, it felt like lightning, beams of charged electricity catapulting between them so bright and real, it felt like he could reach out and touch it.

The song was impossibly soft, a melancholy tune on the acoustic guitar again, accompanied by gentle harmonizing vocals.

Their fingers brushed together, maybe it was an accident, maybe one of them reached out. They interlocked their hands into one another and Minho placed his other arm onto Jisung's waist pulling him in close. Jisung didn’t know what to do with himself; he felt tense and yet impossibly relaxed all at once.

They began swaying together, just a gentle tilt of their hips from side to side, the music swirling around them.

“What are you doing?” Jisung said, all air and barely any sound. He felt like he’d lost all concept of how to speak, how to think, so focused on the touch of Minho's hand on his waist, the warmth emanating from their chests that were almost pressed together.

Minho leant in towards him, whispering his reply into his ear. “I’m dancing with you.”

He could’ve asked why, could’ve shoved him away and demanded an explanation but he didn’t. He couldn’t, in that moment he found a sort of comfort he’d never experienced before. Tentatively his hand lifted, resting lightly on Minho’s shoulder, bringing them ever so slightly closer.

Once again he found it hard to discern the lyrics, not that it mattered, the atmosphere the song created was more than enough. One line in particular rang out like a siren song though, entrancing him and embedding itself into his memory.

ꪆ⏝ ི 𝄞 ྀ ⏝ৎ
‘Winter she’ll howl at the walls, tearing down doors of time, shelter as we go…’
ꪆ⏝ ི 𝄞 ྀ ⏝ৎ

It felt a little too on the nose for their situation but that was the beauty of it. A winter storm, infected at the doorstep and yet in that moment together, they’d found shelter, in a room that somehow encapsulated the past. They were existing as people of the old world had, spending their time on frivolous activities that didn’t benefit anything other than bringing joy and warmth to their lives. It was beautiful, Jisung almost wished he could exist in the moment forever. They stayed close, cherishing every second, swaying gently together until the final note faded into silence.

There was a loud thud against the front door, a heavy object colliding with it and rattling the wood in its frame. It caused Minho and Jisung to jump apart, fighting stances at the ready despite the fact that the door was very much still barricaded closed.

“It’s weird that they aren’t really trying to get in here.” Minho commented after a few moments, choosing not to talk about the fact that they’d literally been slow dancing together moments before. A low groan faded into the distance as the infected assumedly stumbled away.

If Minho wasn’t going to talk about it then Jisung certainly wasn’t going to bring it up either, his brain taking on a mind of its own and spilling out whatever first came to him. “Maybe whatever force is powering the room is keeping the infected out, either that or we’re already dead.” Jisung whispered as if it was a secret.

“What are you talking about?” Minho scoffed, not able to hide his general amusement.

“Maybe the infected got to us and this is our brain's final spark of life, feeding us a delusion.”

“You sound like a crazy person.”

Jisung elbowed Minho in the ribs again, targeting the same spot as last time, knowing it would hurt twice as much this time around.

“Would you stop attacking me? I cooked for you and made your music work. Not to mention I saved your life earlier, otherwise you really would be dead.” Minho spat but there was no real heat behind his words, a soft pout on his lips that was almost a smile, his hand gently rubbing over the sore spot that Jisung had just assaulted for the second time.

“Well if you stopped being so annoying, I wouldn’t have to, sweetheart.” Jisung smirked as he threw back Minho’s new little pet name back at him, feeling particularly smug about his use of it.

“Call me that again.” Minho's face darkened and Jisung felt a shiver go down his spine, not the kind he was used to, like when faced with an infected. This one was pleasant, tingly, as anticipation—along with the tension in the air—thickened.

Jisung thought it over, rolling the decision through his mind before smiling slyly, slowly enunciating each word so Minho wouldn’t mistake him. “Sweet. Heart.”

No less than a second later, Minho dive bombed him, tackling him to the ground, the pair of them rolling around on the floor like children in a play fight. Their arms and legs were tangled together as they fought for dominance. Neither was trying to truly harm the other, it was like a pair of puppies, uselessly snarling their tiny teeth and nipping at the air.

There was so much laughter, raucous giggles tumbling out of both of them as they rolled around together like a pair of piglets troughing themselves in mud. It was light until it wasn’t. Minho managed to pin him to the ground, a tight grip around both of his wrists, holding them in place above his head, he was straddling his waist, his entire lower half unable to move. Their faces were so close, they both breathed heavily and yet it felt like the air between them had been sucked away.

It was hard to tell who started it, perhaps the decision was made in sync but in the next moment their lips were pressed together. Jisung's entire body was wracked with a tremor of something so intense it felt like sinking and ascending all at once. The death grip on his wrists was realised and his hands instantly reached out for Minho's face, one clutching onto his cheek and the other resting on the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair and pulling him closer.

Their lips fit together so perfectly, moving against one another with passionate ferocity. Minho pulled back, their foreheads knocking together as they caught their breath. It only lasted a moment, the second their eyes met, they collided back into one another. Jisung couldn’t get enough, he wanted him closer, deeper, anything he could get. He groaned loudly as Minho's hips shuffled forward, he was unsure whether it was a conscious move or not but he immediately wished for him to do it again.

The sun had long since set and yet they were still cast in light, the corner lamps soft glow radiating over their writhing bodies. Where there should’ve been silence there was instead the soft whirring of the dormant CD player, the gentle drip of the kitchen tap which hadn’t quite been shut off properly. Alongside that was the smack of their lips rushedly moving against one another, soft groans and whines falling out of both of them in the tiny moments where they weren’t connected.

Minho ran his tongue over Jisung’s bottom lip, light and overly cautious as if Jisung might snap out of whatever lust filled haze had overcome them both and shove him away. Instead he pulled him in impossibly closer, opening his mouth in invitation of more. Minho tasted like the broth they had shared for dinner, his tongue licked gently over Jisung’s gums, his teeth, tracing the ridges and lines before curling around his tongue.

Sweat gathered at the nape of Jisung’s neck as Minho ravished him, he couldn’t move, could only lay back and take what he was so graciously given. He’d felt helplessness before but this was different, it was freeing, his mind empty of all worries and strife focused only on the sensation of Minho's tongue exploring his mouth, his hips making subtle jolts forward, their hardening bulges lightly brushing against one another. He felt almost dizzy with lust as all his blood rushed south, his dick filling out faster than it ever had before.

He’d messed around with others in the district, men and women alike, but it had never felt like this. A feral kind of desperation exploding out of both of them. There had never been another time when they were so comfortable to explore another as they were now, in the confinement of the strange little time capsule they’d discovered together.

Jisung hips bucked up when Minho bit down on his lower lip, teeth dragging the flesh into his mouth, clamping down almost to the point of pain before allowing it to spring free.

He was smirking, looking horribly smug and devastatingly hot, a beautiful pink blush tinging his cheeks and neck. Jisung wondered how far down it would go, did his entire chest flush with heat, as the blood rushed down towards the cock he could feel burning even through the many layers they both still wore. The fact he was even contemplating going further with Minho should’ve filled him with confusion but all he felt was a deep aching need. He needed this, more than that, he wanted it. He wanted Minho.

“I want to go to the bedroom.” Jisung breathed, not allowing himself to overthink, acting on pure desire.

Minho didn’t speak, simply nodded before pulling himself off of his body. Jisung mourned the loss immediately, his mind impatient to have the grounding weight of Minho on top of him again.

Jisung went to pull himself up but Minho beat him to it. He yanked him from the floor, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and began marching them toward the bedroom.

“What the fuck Minho.” Jisung whined petulantly, kicking his legs and struggling halfheartedly to be let down.

A swift slap to his ass immediately ceased his struggles, a low moan falling from his lips as he went completely limp in Minho's hold.

Minho chuckled, dark and knowing. “Very interesting.” He mused, observant of the way Jisung had reacted, tucking the knowledge away to use again later.

The room was comfortably warm, the radiator humming softly as it worked away to heat the room.

Jisung landed on the bed with an ‘oof’ as Minho unceremoniously tossed him from his shoulder onto the plush sheets, his body bouncing a little against the mattress.

Jisung instantly began stripping off, shimmying his hips to wiggle his way out of his cargo pants and thermal layers, before quickly tossing them to the side along with his jumper, shirt and thermal top. Leaving only his underwear on.

When he looked up he noticed Minho was just watching. There was a mixture of emotions flickering across his face. He looked almost in awe, eyes darting around Jisung’s body taking in every curve and line of his smooth honeyed skin. In contrast to that he also seemed to be shrinking in on himself, arms crossed over his chest as if holding himself together, his shoulders tense and raised up to his ears, almost as if he was uncomfortable. He looked nervous but not in a good way.

“Is everything alright?” Jisung asked, speaking slow and softly so as not to startle him into further retreat.

Minho huffed out a noise of annoyance, whether that was for Jisung or himself was yet unclear.

“We can slow it down, if it’s too much for you?”

“No!” Minho rushed to say, taking a step closer to the bed. He looked like he was struggling to get his words out, whatever was troubling him, stuck in the back of his throat. “I just…” His words trailed off, another deep sigh as he screwed his eyes closed.

Jisung remained quiet, giving him the space and time to say what he needed to. He couldn’t help but feel a little exposed though, having rushed into getting himself almost nude while Minho was still fully clothed.

“I’m a little self conscious I guess.” Minho admitted sheepishly, arms twisted around his torso, fingers curled into the material of his jumper, gripping on for dear life.

“There’s no pressure, you can keep your clothes on if it will make you more comfortable?” Jisung offered gently, he couldn’t deny his curiosity to see Minho’s body but if he wasn’t comfortable with showing it then Jisung certainly wasn’t going to force him.

Minho thought about it for a moment, rolling the decision through his mind, before his back straightened, his arms dropping to his sides as a look of acquiescence came over him.

He didn’t say anything, just began slowly peeling off his layers. Jisung watched with baited breath, studying the way his arms tensed as he pulled his jumper over his head. Ogling the taught muscle of his wonderfully thick thighs as his trousers fell to the floor.

The final piece of clothing to go—aside from his boxers—was his thermal top. Jisung watched as each inch of skin was revealed, he was a little paler than Jisung and he had scars, mostly focused around his torso, thick lines scattered across his sides and stomach stretching around back where Jisung couldn’t see.

He assumed that the scars were the reason Minho had been nervous to reveal his body and yet the urge to ask questions was right at the tip of his tongue. He physically bit his lip to hold them in—especially considering how much courage Minho had had to gather to show them—but the need must’ve been written all over his face.

“They’re from fight training, my old district was…harsh in their methods.”

“You were in another district?” Jisung had never asked the new arrivals of their history, it seemed wherever they’d come from had had a lot worse conditions than what he had grown up with.

Minho hummed an affirmative noise. “Was born there, my parents…aren’t around anymore but the people raised me the best they could I suppose.” He shrugged, halfheartedly dismissing the abuse he’d clearly been through.

“They hurt you.” Jisung couldn’t stop staring at the scars, thick white lines, almost like lacerations.

“I wasn’t good enough.”

“You’re one of the best fighters we have.” Jisung argued, getting a little defensive on Minho's behalf.

“I am now.” Minho affirmed.

They’d never spoken so candidly together before and Jisung was learning that he and Minho were more alike than he’d first realised. No parents, raised by the community around them and yet where Jisung had been given endless support and love, Minho’s upbringing had clearly been a lot more difficult.

“Are they why you left?” Jisung gestured down toward the marks. “Why you came to us?”

Minho gave a small nod, he looked uncharacteristically anxious, a soft blush covering his entire body—just as Jisung theorised it would. It was beautiful.

“You can…you can touch them if you’d like.”

Jisung bit down in his lip as he shuffled on his knees towards the edge of the bed. He reached out tentatively, his fingertips barely skimming Minho's skin. They were soft, a little textured, his fingers dipping into the lines before returning back to the smooth, unharmed skin.

He didn’t know why it hurt him, an almost physical pain twisting his stomach into knots at the thought of Minho coming to harm in the name of training. It was barbaric, and entirely unnecessary. Jisung suspected that Minho wasn’t painting the full picture but he didn’t want to pry into what was clearly a very personal and likely traumatic time from his past

So much of Minho's character made sense now, his difficulty in trusting others, the way he isolated himself from everyone. The scars ran far deeper than just the physical marks they’d left behind.

“I don’t like it.” Jisung frowned, not thinking before speaking, he was unable to take his eyes away from the scars of Minho’s past.

Minho took a step back, his body seeming to shrink in on itself as he turned his face away in shame. Jisung only then realised what he’d said and how it would have come across. He immediately backtracked when he saw the incredibly vulnerable look on Minho's face.

“No! I didn’t mean…sorry, I just meant I don’t like that they hurt you.”

“It’s fine.” Minho replied a little bluntly, still facing away. He was retreating, metaphorical walls building up in his mind.

“You’re beautiful.” Jisung blurted out, almost panicked in his rush to reassure him.

Minho seemed almost startled, head snapping towards Jisung, eyes wide. “You think I’m…” his voice trailed off, so small and meek.

“I’ve always thought it, since the moment you arrived but I thought you hated me. You’re more than that though, you’re strong and independent, I know you care about people even if you pretend you don't, it’s why you work so hard to cook for everyone.”

Minho blushed, blinking a little dazedly as if he’d been smacked over the head. A small smile lifting onto his lips, as a humourless chuckle fell out of him. “I envy you, you know that?.”

“Me?” Jisung exclaimed. Why on earth would Minho ever have reason to envy him?

Minho turned his head from side to side before returning to face Jisung as if to say. ‘Do you see anyone else here?’

Jisung rolled his eyes, even when he was being sincere he had to be annoying about it.

“It’s the way you see the world, you have such a positive outlook despite our situation, everyone adores you and you give that love back so easily.”

If only it was so simple, Jisung thought. “It’s not easy, it takes effort but it’s worth it. There’s so much to be afraid of in this life, don’t we all deserve to find happiness, wherever we can?”

Minho’s body language had softened again, his inner walls lowering as he stepped forward, bringing them closer. “I think this, right now,” He reached out to take Jisung’s hand in his own, squeezing gently. “Is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Me too.” Jisung whispered, almost like a secret for just the two of them to know, to share with one another. Surprisingly he wasn’t even lying, in such a short span of time he’d grown such a strong connection to the man he was sure had hated him when he’d woken up that morning. The problem that existed between them was becoming clearer, in that Minho had never really hated him to begin with.

The mattress dipped as Minho knelt on the bed. He looked like a mythical being, the condition of his body a testament to his strength and endurance. He crawled over Jisung, forcing him to lie down on his back.

Their lips hovered tentatively over one another and just like that the mood had reset, the tension in the air thick as Minho's lips brushed against his as he spoke.

“How do you want me, sweetheart?” Minho's confidence seemed to have returned in full force and Jisung felt like he was melting into the mattress as Minho whispered seductively into his mouth, edging his lips away anytime Jisung tried to move to fully connect them. The feeling wasn’t helped by the pet name, it felt entirely different now than it had when Minho was spitting it at him earlier, it felt smooth, like a gentle touch, vibrating softly against his lips.

“I don’t care, I just want you.” Jisung grabbed the back of Minho’s head, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. Their teeth bashed together in the ferocity with which they collided with one another but neither of them cared.

Dual groans purred out of them as they picked up where they’d left off before things had turned serious. With the clothes finally out of the way, Jisung let his hands roam freely. Over Minho's shoulders, down his lean back, he could feel the scars all the way down, a small stab going through his stomach that was quickly replaced with a rolling jolt of pleasure as Minho's half hard cock brushed up against his own. Without all of the layers in the way he could feel the size of it and it was big, he needed that thing inside of him, he didn’t care how or where he just needed it.

“I changed my mind, I do care.” Jisung pulled away to speak, Minho taking the opportunity to kiss down his neck, leaving a wet trail from just under his ear all the way down to his shoulder. Nibbling softly as he went. “Need you inside of me.”

Minho chuckled, an airy sound that sent tingles of joy through Jisung’s bloodstream as it all headed south. “Yeah, is that right?”

“Yes.” Jisung affirmed breathily, head tilting back to give Minho better access, a stilted groan pouring out when he bit down particularly hard directly over his pulse point, his heart beat reverberating off of Minho's tongue as he sucked a bruise into the skin.

“Why don’t you try asking a little more nicely.” Minho purred, shuffling down the bed slightly leaving little kisses across his pecks, pointedly ignoring his hardened nipples, to Jisung’s frustration.

He wasn’t above begging, he felt desperate, near feral with a blinding need to be filled with that all encompassing pleasure that he knew Minho's cock would be able to give him.

“Please, Minho.” His eyes were wide and already slightly teary, a pretty pout on his kiss-swollen lips. “Please fuck me.”

“Good job sweetheart.” Minho smirked, sinister and devilishly handsome. He took Jisung’s nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud between his teeth lightly until it was perky and overly sensitive, if Jisung’s squirming was anything to go by. He gave the other nipple the same amount of attention, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the nub as he pulled away to admire his work.

Jisung was panting, completely breathless as he watched on bated breath for Minho’s next move. He seemed content on moving slowly, pressing languid kisses into the supple skin of his stomach, circling around his belly button and pointedly avoiding the hardened bulge that was tenting his boxers.

“Nghh—please Minho.” Jisung begged mindlessly, the kisses were lovely but he needed more, his mind growing fuzzy in the anticipation.

“So impatient.” Minho huffed lightheartedly, lazily tracing his tongue along the small patch of hair below Jisung’s navel, when he reached the waistband of his boxers he kissed along the edge, just a gentle pressure and yet it still sent sparks of tingling pleasure through Jisung’s nerves.

His dick twitched as Minho ghosted a breath over it, his tongue lolling out as if he would lick over him but he never made contact. Jisung’s head fell back, his eyes rolling into his head as he groaned in frustration. He couldn’t take it any longer, felt like he was losing his mind with want.

“Please.” Jisung whimpered, one last ditch attempt to have Minho speed it up a little. He was desperate, every nerve on edge as it awaited the stimulation he craved.

Minho tilted his head to the side and Jisung thought he was going to be made to wait for eternity, an endless night of edging that would have him stir crazy by the end of it. Instead Minho yanked at his waistband, pulling his boxers down to his knees in one pull and freeing his understimulated dick. The tip was already dripping a steady pool of precum onto his stomach where it flopped down, throbbing, red and almost painfully hard.

“Fuck.” Minho whispered under his breath, eyes blown wide as he took in the sight laid before him.

Jisung's chest rising and falling with each panting breath, his nipples red and shiny with saliva, in fact his entire torso had a wonderful sheen to it, a mixture of sweat and spit and now precum that was steadily staining him. His dick was twitching, begging in its own way for Minho's touch. Hazy, blown out eyes, so deep and still with that beautiful softness that always lived in them, like he was faraway floating somewhere in his mind, somewhere extremely pleasurable Minho hoped. He’d been crushing on Jisung since the moment he met him, too nervous to approach and shoot his shot especially when in a moment of panic he’d humiliated Jisung so thoroughly in their youth. Having him here, already half ruined and bare for him to touch and kiss and fuck, it was like the most wonderful dream bought to life.

“Don’t want to wait any longer.” Jisung squirmed under Minho's intense stare, feeling like a bug under a magnifying glass, the sun's rays steadily burning him alive. He spread his legs wide open, lifting his hips slightly to present his fluttering hole, hoping to entice Minho in.

“I’ve got you.” Minho purred, his voice deepening ever so slightly. He lifted two fingers to his mouth, sucking them enthusiastically, Jisung was mesmerised at the way his cheeks suctioned in, his tongue dipping out and spreading saliva over every inch of them. When he pulled them out they glistened, a string of spit dripping down and landing on Jisung’s thigh.

As soon as Minho’s finger pressed into his hole Jisung's entire body melted into the sheets. He pushed in slowly, just barely inching in until he was buried up to the knuckle. Slowly circling his finger around in the warmth, stroking up against Jisung’s walls in an infuriatingly slow rhythm.

Jisung’s hands curled into the pillow under his head, fingers tightening into the plushness in an effort to ground himself as low whimpers slipped out on every breath.

The air felt impossibly warm, thick and saturated with the scent of sex and desire. A slick sound as Minho swirled his finger inside of Jisung, gently stretching him open in preparation for his cock. His muscles clenched rhythmically around the intrusion, nerves tuned in to every minute press against his walls. Warm tingles ran up Jisung’s spine as he felt a second finger press against his rim, his back arching off the bed as a loud groan filled the room.

Minho looked enthralled, single-mindedly focused on watching Jisung’s hole expand around his fingers, blown out eyes watching how his hips were unable to stay pressed to the bed, little thrusts upward from where his feet were planted on the bed, urging Minho’s fingers to push in further.

“It’s like you’re trying to suck me in.” Minho murmured under his breath, inside thoughts just falling out of him as he remained entranced by the way Jisung’s body reacted so beautifully to the stimulation. He began scissoring his fingers more, pushing in a little more harshly to watch the way Jisung’s thighs would tremble with each thrust, his chest deflating of air as he pulled out.

A loud wet moan tore out of Jisung’s throat as Minhos fingers brushed up against the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside of his hole, his dick jumping off of his stomach as the rolling wave of pleasure rippled through him. “Nnghh—right there, please.” He begged, one arm reaching down to grab onto Minho’s forearm just to feel him. The muscle flexed, tensing and relaxing with the movement of his arm as he aimed each push of his fingers directly into Jisung’s prostate.

Reality seemed to melt away, his mind blissfully empty other than the insane pleasure that curled around every inch of his body. His body jumped and twitched erratically, completely out of his control. He couldn’t keep still, couldn’t stop writhing and pushing himself down onto Minho’s fingers, revelling in the way they stretched his rim open wide.

The pleasure built, it started like the first fall of snow, a few flakes swirling lightly but quickly escalating into a raging blizzard, the feeling compacting into a tight ball in his lower stomach ready to explode. He could feel the precipice approaching, bumbling pleas falling from his lips that were slickened with spit and indented with teeth marks from his constant chewing. Just as he was about to tip over the edge Minho pulled out, Jisung eliciting a groan of discontent.

“No, no, no…” Jisung babbled, pulling himself up to try and drag Minho back in, he was so close.

Minho crawled over him, clean hand coming up to stroke through Jisung’s hair, messy and knotted from the way his head had been thrashing against the pillow.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you? I can always just make you cum on my fingers if you’ve changed your mind?”

“No, please fuck me, please Minho.” Jisung became near frantic as he pulled Minho into a desperate kiss, probing into his mouth, moaning around the feeling of his tongue curling against his own.

“You got it sweetheart.” Minho spoke against his lips, reaching down to free his rock hard cock from the underwear prison it’d been trapped in until that point.

The pet name felt like a static shock that travelled all the way from his brain down to his dick, the muscles twitching in interest as the desperation began to overwhelm him. He couldn’t keep still, squirming incessantly, his mind was on the verge of floating away. When the tip of Minho’s cock nudged up against his hole he was slammed back down into the earth, this was really happening, Minho was going to fuck him. In that moment there was nothing he wanted more.

“Nghhh—“ Jisung moaned as Minho began to push in, one long slow thrust, stretching his hole and creating a space for himself inside of his body. Minho was so big, it felt like he was being split in two, his muscles fighting not to clench down around the intrusion.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” Minho panted as he gripped onto Jisung’s spread thighs, nails leaving little moon shaped indents, he was trying so hard to hold back, to not slam into the delicious heat of Jisung’s hole.

“It’s been a while.” Jisung managed to spit out, teeth clenched as he took panting breaths, he was trying to adjust to the feeling of fullness, he wanted Minho to move, to pound him towards the ecstasy he’d been so close to before but simultaneously he also wanted to stay like this forever, satisfyingly full to the brim.

“You didn’t have Felix fill you up before we left then.” Minho hissed, he remained buried into the hilt but his hips started gyrating, just slightly, it felt almost possessive like he was trying to carve a perfect hole in the shape of his cock so only he might fill it.

Minho must’ve been thinking of the moment right before they’d left district 9 when Felix had skipped up and planted a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek and wished him luck. He didn’t know he’d been watching, paying such close attention and more than that, that he cared so much.

“Jealous?” Jisung giggled, the sound transforming into a moan when Minho slowly began to pull out again.

“Should I be?”

The short answer was no, Felix was like a brother to Jisung. Sure, they’d made out once or twice in their youth but they’d never fucked and there was certainly no romantic intentions there. He had a feeling Minho knew this and was just trying to be a little tease, well two could play that game.

“Maybe.” Jisung answered, with a sly grin.

Minho chose that moment to slam back into Jisung’s heat causing both of them to groan loudly.

“Well then I guess I’ll have to show you what you’ve been missing out on.” He whispered into Jisung’s ear with a dark chuckle.

It was like a switch had flipped, or maybe, more accurately something snapped. Minho's eyes darkened, his back straightening as he sat back in his heels, looking over Jisung as a devilish shadow. He pushed Jisung’s thighs down into his chest, fingers digging in so deep it felt like they would leave hand shaped bruises. His hips began pounding into Jisung with a ferocious force, each thrust jolting his body up the bed, his head shaking where it rested amongst the plush pillows.

“Oh fuckkk—“ Jisung could do nothing more than lie back and take it, his rim stretching impossibly wide to make space for Minho's cock. His nerves jumped and fizzed as his prostate was slammed into with each thrust. Moans tumbled out on every breath, his back arching off of the bed. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to pull away or get closer; all thought processes had been thoroughly severed, nothing but a constant stream of Minho, Minho, Minho, Minho running through his overwhelmed mind.

“No one else can fill you like this, no one else deserves to.” Minho growled, he was near feral in the way his hips slammed forward, like he couldn’t control himself even if he tried, a slave to the tight heat of Jisung’s hole.

Jisung reached out, he kept one hand clutched into the pillows at his head to ground himself as he was thoroughly pressed into the mattress, the other rested on Minho's shoulder, the muscles were tensed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat making it difficult to grip onto him. He moved his hand up over Minho's neck, his cheek, brushing his hair back and out of his dark, lust filled eyes.

His eyes were darting between Jisung’s face and the place where they were connected. He slowed down so he could watch how his cock disappeared inside, Jisung’s rim pulsing and clenching around the thick shaft.

Jisung was too busy watching Minho's expressions change, the way his eyes seemed to almost sparkle, his lips lifted into a small grin. The soft light of the lamp casted gentle shadows across his face, highlighting his high cheekbones and the perfect curve of his nose. His beauty was almost too good to be true, the fact that Jisung had never truly appreciated it before felt like a crime.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jisung whispered, his hand gently scratching at Minho's scalp, his back bending over and head bowed.

His hips continued to push in, slow and gentle, small hiccuped whines falling from Jisung's lips as he pulled Minho down on top of him, leaning up to meet him halfway. Their lips collided and Minho groaned into the kiss, tongues dancing together, connected just as their bodies were.

“I want you so badly. Be mine, just for tonight, or forever, I don’t care, please.” Minho begged, eyes sparkling almost as if he was about to cry, a frown carved into his forehead.

“You’ve got me.” Jisung affirmed, clenching down around Minho's cock as if to prove it, to show him that here and now it was just the two of them.

Nothing else mattered, not the swirling winter storm, the horde of infected that paced the hotel's corridors, the team that was waiting for them at a safe house on the outskirts of the city. In that moment it was irrelevant, all that mattered was the comfort of the soft sheets they were contained in and the melding of their two bodies becoming one.

“Mine.” Minho growled possessively against his lips, tugging the bottom one between his teeth.

Their eyes connected and Jisung felt a wave of resolution come over him, in fact he had never felt more sure about something in his life. “Yours.” He purred.

In an effort to prove it, he shoved on Minho's body, rolling them across the mattress until Minho landed on his back, Jisung straddling his thighs. In the shuffle Minho’s cock had slipped out and Jisung felt so desperately empty, he immediately reached down, lining him up and sinking down on top of him.

Minho’s hands clutched into his waist, holding him steady, thumbs tracing harsh circles into the skin of his hips.

“Let me show you.” Jisung grinned, the expression morphing, his eyes falling closed, mouth dropping open in pleasure as he began to bounce.

His thighs very quickly began to burn, his over tired body fighting against him every step of the way but he pushed through it. Impaling himself over and over again on Minho’s cock.

“Fuckkk, Jisung…” Minhos eyes had rolled all the way back into his head, his hips doing their best to stay still and let Jisung bounce away on top of him despite the near painful need he had to plant his feet down and fuck up into him.

Jisung was sure that was the first time Minho had used his real name since the moment they’d met and the sound resonated like someone had poured liquid ecstasy into his ears, it sounded so beautiful rolling off of Minho's tongue. He planted himself down, rolling his hips as his hands trailed gentle patterns over Minho’s chest, weaving between the scarred lines. He got lost in his mind, so full and warm and entranced by the beauty that lay below him, he didn’t even notice his hips had stopped moving. That was until a swift slap to his ass jolted him from his revelry, a moan pouring out of his lips as his body fell forward, Minho's cock pressing deliciously deep inside of him at the new angle.

A growl rumbled from below as Minho readjusted himself, feet planting down on the bed before he began to thrust upwards.

Jisung’s thighs burned, and he was happy to lay down and let Minho do some more of the work.

“Getting tired sweetheart?” Minho grunted as he continued to slam into Jisung’s hole, hands holding onto his waist, lifting his weight only to pull it back down in perfect rhythm with his own thrusts.

Jisung moaned out a reply, something that sounded vaguely like yes.

“Don’t worry I’ve got you.” Minho whispered into his ear, nipping at the lobe before dropping his head back down into the pillows.

He fucked up into him with renewed vigour, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberating around the room, harmonising with the languid moans the pair of them let out between each breath.

Jisung’s thighs began to tremble, his prostate being stimulated constantly, the pleasure contracted in his lower stomach, like a ball of energy that got bigger and bigger within the tiny space, there was nowhere for it to go, every nerve burning with the need for release.

“Please—ngghh—Minho, please.” He babbled mindlessly, body being jostled as if he were a rag doll, it was too much, not enough, so many feelings all at once, he couldn’t contain them for much longer.

Jisung’s pleas reignited Minho's passion, he pulled Jisung’s face towards him, connecting their lips together as he slammed into him with reckless abandon. He only pulled back to speak against his mouth, the words ticking against his lips. “Cum for me Jisung, show me how good I make you feel.”

The pleasure reached breaking point. Jisung’s body seemed to freeze, in fact it felt like the entire world had gone still and silent. A singular moment of nothing before a crescendo. His body convulsed as a loud drawn out whine fell from his lips. Ropes of cum shot out of his untouched cock, splattering between them as the waves of ecstasy rolled through his overtired body. His hole rhythmically clenched down over Minho’s cock, that continued to fuck up into him, with the added stimulation it didn’t take him long to follow Jisung over the edge.

Minho gave one last deep thrust, burying himself up to the balls inside Jisung’s tight pulsating hole, shooting his load deep inside. His cock twitched as the streams of cum filled Jisung up, so much, that it began to spill out between the seam of Jisung’s rim and his cock, dripping down onto his thighs.

They both lay panting and trembling as the waves of orgasmic bliss rippled through them. Jisung’s body rose and fell in the same rhythm as Minho’s chest, his heart beating so fast it felt like it might break out of his ribs and add to the messy puddle between them.

With great effort Jisung rolled off of Minho's body, groaning as his slowly softening cock slipped out, allowing another wave of cum to drip out of his body.

He felt completely satiated. His body hummed pleasantly as the pleasure slowly ebbed and fizzled out of his fried nerves. Even after all that, a small part of him wanted to go again—wanted to be full always, his hole quivering around the emptiness that had once been filled with Minho’s cock—and he absolutely would if he wasn’t tired down to his very bones. Everything ached and screamed at him for rest, his eyes attempting to blink away the sleep that threatened to so easily take him under.

The sheets rustled softly as he rolled over onto his side to find Minho already looking at him, a small sated smile on his kiss reddened lips.

“I’m so sorry, Jisung.”

That was not what Jisung expected to hear fall from Minho’s lips directly after having sex and it left him in a state of complete and utter confusion.

“Sorry for what?” He replied sleepily, as much as he was trying, the excitement and fear of the day was catching up to him scarily quickly, his eyes drooping closed even as he fought to blink them open again.

“For how I treated you, for pushing you away. I was just…scared, I guess.” Minho admitted softly, one hand reaching forward to push a stray hair off of Jisung’s sweaty forehead before settling on his flushed cheek.

“I’m glad we got to have this night together, to talk it out, or well…you know what I mean.” Jisung drawled, lips smacking together as he shuffled further into the warmth of Minho's body, the duvet cocooned around him, burying him in warmth and comfort.

“Get some rest, sweetheart.” Minho whispered against his temple, pressing a soft drawn out kiss to his sticky skin.

Jisung didn’t need to be told twice in fact the moment his eyes fell shut he felt his consciousness fade, dreams of flowing music and soft caring hands holding him close as he danced the night away in his sleep.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When Jisung woke the bed was still warm but the air around him felt frigid and cold. He attempted to sit up, rubbing his eyes, only to startle at the restriction on his chest keeping him pinned down.

Fight or flight instincts kicked in. Unfortunately given that he'd literally only been conscious for ten seconds, those instincts had him clumsily tumbling out of the bed and landing on his ass with a loud ‘oof’. He was very quickly reminded of the night before, the soreness in his lower back aching quietly.

He peeped up over the bed to find Minho blinking at him sleepily, confusion and a little bit of fear written all over his face for only a moment until he met Jisung’s eyes, until realisation seemed to sink in. Along with it came a wide beaming smile, a giggle just barely held in as he attempted to look worried.

“Watcha doing down there?” Minho sing-songed cheerily as he stretched out his arms over his head. Jisung's gaze instantly fell to his exposed chest, so wonderfully chiseled and toned, soft and hard in all the right places.

“Enjoying the view.” Jisung felt like he was drooling, he was most definitely staring but he couldn’t drag his eyes away if he tried. Minho pulled up the sheet with a scandalized gasp, covering himself as if he were a Victorian woman caught with her shoulder exposed.

Jisung giggled as he pulled himself off the floor, flopping back onto the bed with his head cushioned by Minho’s duvet covered thighs. He subconsciously noticed that he wasn’t sticky or gross at all, Minho must’ve cleaned him up at some point the night before while he was sleeping, his heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness of the act. He tilted his head back and smiled gleefully. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Minho grinned down at him. He looked just as handsome from upside down. Long eyelashes gently caressing his cheeks, hair all sleep ruffled and messy. His smile felt like a warm embrace and almost distracted Jisung from the obvious chill in the room. Almost. A round of goosebumps sprouted on his arms as a deep shiver wracked up his spine.

“I think the power’s gone.” Minho commented unhelpfully as he pulled the sheets around Jisung’s shivering body—that was helpful at least.

“No shit.” Jisung commented, siphoning Minho's warmth by putting his cold hand up against his warm chest. Minho flinched and groaned but made no move to pull away.

“We should probably get moving soon, the sun is just rising.”

Jisung looked over to the window, the darkness was slowly fading into daylight. The storm had slowed but not stopped entirely, a slow, sparse flow of snowflakes tapping against the glass. He pulled the duvet around him a little tighter, snuggling into Minho's legs and sighing wistfully.

“Don’t wanna.” Jisung’s words were lost in the way he was rubbing his face up against Minho, the duvet wrapping him up like a caterpillar preparing to blossom. Minho understood him even without fully hearing though.

“I’d like to stay as well but this,” Minho gestured around the room even if Jisung wasn’t uncovered to see it. “It was always going to be temporary, sweetheart.”

Jisung's heart panged, a strange hurtful zap that constricted his throat and made his head fuzzy in a bad way. He poked his head out of the duvet, sparkling eyes finding Minhos. “What about…us?”

“Well, I guess that’s for us to decide, whether this was real or just part of the magic of this place.”

Jisung didn’t need to think about it, he’d made the decision the moment Minho had pulled him in to dance with him in the warm glow of the living room lamp. But they still had an arduous journey ahead of them to make it through the city and back to the others, so he held his tongue, he wanted to save it for when they were safe, when they could comfortably spill their hearts without having to worry about disaster striking. That mindset lasted all of about ten minutes, he and Minho got dressed and gathered their supplies. They stood in the entryway to the room, having one last look around before they departed for good.

“Was it real for you?” Jisung asked, he didn’t need to elaborate any further, Minho knew what he was asking.

“Yes, it was real for me.” Jisung couldn’t see the smile on his face but he could hear it in his voice, feeling his comfort in the way his gloved hand reached out to connect them. His heart was soaring,

“It was…” Minho cut Jisung off mid sentence with a decisive kiss. Jisung almost forgot what he’d been saying, frozen dazedly staring off into the middle distance somewhere between Minho's nose and lips, he had such a cute little philtrum, he wanted to poke it. He did just that. Oh, he remembered what he wanted to say.

“I…”

Minho pressed a finger to his lips, once again silencing him. A small frown creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Save it for me, for when we get home.” Minho smiled, something small and wistful, hopeful and yet a little bit sad at the same time.

“When we get home.” Jisung affirmed. Not if, when. He reached up to pull Minho's scarf into place over his face before adjusting his own. He took one last look around the room, committing every line and corner to memory.

“You ready?” Minho was all set and ready to go, goggles on, backpack stuffed and sealed. A plethora of new knives ready for use when they made it home. Also a certain CD, kept for sentimental reasoning more than anything. He hadn’t told Jisung about it yet, and planned to give it to him when they made it back together. They'd never be able to listen to it again, but the memory it would induce was enough.

As much as Jisung would love to stay and pretend to live in domestic bliss in the most luxurious room he’d ever seen in his life, he had people depending on him, he had a life to return to. More than that he had a confession to make and if Minho wasn’t going to let him make it there, then they’d just have to make the arduous journey back to the district, so he could spill all the beautiful, blooming feelings that had made a home in his heart.

A home with a soft glowing corner lamp, a four poster bed with soft silky sheets and the quiet hum of a song, the lyrics blurry and lost aside from the feeling it had induced, gentle hands pulling him close, a warm steady chest with an even warmer, slightly cracked heart contained inside. Living a day in the life of the old world had been Jisung’s dream and now he’d done it. He was ready to find a new dream and he had a feeling it was already standing right next to him, patiently waiting for him to be ready to leave.

Jisung took a deep breath and turned away from the room, preparing himself for the blistering cold and the hordes of infected they were about to slaughter. But with him and Minho working together, he was confident that they’d make it through.

“Ready.”