#jongkeysquadfic

“I don’t like you anymore,” Jonghyun says matter-of-factly. They’re laying half in Taemin’s lap and half in Jinki’s, and as Kibum watches, their fingers fumble to find Jinki’s before they direct Jinki’s hand to their hair, a wordless request to have their hair played with.

“You don’t like me anymore?” Kibum repeats. He should be happy, and he is, he really is. He’s glad that Jonghyun won’t hurt anymore because of him, he’s glad that Jonghyun can look at him and touch him without flinching or hiding their emotions away, he’s glad that Jonghyun seems happy curled up on the couch with Jinki and Taemin.

“Nope!” Jonghyun’s other hand twines their fingers together with Taemin’s and the smile Taemin gives them is full of all of the love Kibum could not give. When Jonghyun flushes pink and hides their face, Kibum feels his heart break, just a little.

(He attributes the strange tightness in his chest to stress, hunger and lack of sleep.)

With their busy solo schedules, it’s rare for them to be able to spend time as a group, and when Taemin barges into Kibum’s room (without knocking) to say we’re having movie night, Kibum is...confused. They haven’t had a movie night in ages - the only real rule for movie night is that all of them must be there. And with Blue Night and Jonghyun’s upcoming album and their Japanese tour coming up, it probably won’t happen for a while yet.

Kibum can smell the popcorn that Minho is making, and Jinki comes out of the kitchen with five bottles of Snapple and a small pile of napkins. He smiles gently at Kibum as he passes, and Kibum’s gaze falls to Jonghyun, who is fiddling with the TV. It’s their turn to choose the movie and they’re quick to find and choose some horror movie that Taemin had been wanting to watch for ages. Minho comes out with a giant bowl of popcorn and Kibum mechanically begins to pile blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the couch when Jonghyun turns to Minho and smiles at him, the shy little smile that they’d usually reserved for Kibum.

When they still liked him.

Movie night is always the same - they eventually all end up on the floor, curled around each other and tangled together beneath layers of blankets so completely that it takes what seems like hours to separate - and it’s one of the times where Kibum feels most at peace, surrounded by soft breaths and warm bodies and his heart always always always warms when someone’s hand tangles with his.

The only time movie night is ever different is when a horror movie plays: Jonghyun ends up in Kibum’s lap, face buried in Kibum’s neck for most of the movie. Their little squeaks of surprise are muffled into Kibum’s shirt and after each jump scare, they always tremble and shudder and Kibum holds them tight and whispers that you’re okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay until Jonghyun visibly calms.

Tonight though, it’s different. Bad different - Jonghyun stands off to the side, uncertain until Jinki opens his arms and Jonghyun gratefully falls into him, wiggling into the space between him and Taemin. Kibum is left between Taemin and Minho, and while he’s technically in the middle, he’s never felt so alone, and while he’s beneath two blankets, he’s never felt so cold. It’s a startling realization, how much he misses Jonghyun’s warmth and trembling above him. Taemin’s got the bowl of popcorn (mixed butter popcorn and kettle corn) in his lap, and when Kibum reaches over for a handful, his hand touches Jonghyun’s before Jonghyun wrenches away as if burned.

Despite how good the movie is (according to Taemin’s pleased little noises, anyway), Kibum can barely bring himself to look at the screen. And after the movie ends, and when he’s sure everyone is asleep, Kibum disentangles himself from their cuddle pile and quietly steals away to his own room. At least there, he’ll be able to sleep.

The next day, he wakes to the smell of pancakes - Jonghyun and Minho are in the kitchen, and Jinki and Taemin are still asleep in the main room. Jonghyun’s sitting on the counter while Minho piles another pancake on the huge stack on a plate, and as soon as they see Kibum, Jonghyun’s giggles stop and their smile fades as they slip off the counter to go wake Jinki and Taemin up.

Minho’s looking at Kibum with an unreadable expression on his face, and when he sees Kibum looking, he gives Kibum this sad little half-smile before turning back to the stove.

Breakfast is a strangely quiet affair: Jinki is still more than half asleep, and Taemin eats as quickly as he usually does. Minho and Taemin are on either side of Jonghyun, and Kibum and Jinki sit across from them, but Jonghyun barely lifts their head even once. When they speak, it’s only to Minho and Taemin in quiet whispers. What’s most infuriating is that Taemin and Minho whisper back - Kibum can’t help scowling when Jonghyun giggles at something Minho’s said to them, before whispering something - probably the same thing Minho had told them - to Taemin.

Taemin leans over and kisses Jonghyun’s cheek, and Jonghyun looks so pleased that Kibum’s stomach drops, and suddenly, he’s not very hungry anymore.

(But at least Jonghyun is happy?)

With the way Kibum keeps his eyes cast down as he abruptly leaves the table and goes back to his room, he doesn’t see the way Jonghyun stares after him, concern clear on their face. They don’t follow him, and Kibum doesn’t know if he’s glad for that fact or not.

It seems like hours before Jonghyun sticks their head in the doorway; Kibum has been studying up on his English, but he quickly closes his book and looks up when he sees Jonghyun fidgeting in the entrance to his room. Jonghyun looks like they want to say something, and their mouth parts, but nothing comes out, so they close their mouth and just stare at Kibum, expression two parts upset and one part longing. Kibum doesn’t know how long they stay like that, staring at each other silently. It ends when Taemin calls for Jonghyun from some other part of the dorm and they both jerk; Jonghyun’s eyes widen like they realize where they are and they bolt without a second’s hesitation, and Kibum is left only with the phantom smell of Jonghyun’s body cream and the feeling that he’d missed something extremely important.

Jonghyun comes back later that day with freshly dyed pink bubblegum pink hair, and immediately, the others are telling them how cute they are, and how pretty you look with pink hair, Jonghyunnie. And Kibum feels -

He doesn’t know how he feels. He wants Jonghyun to smile at him the way they’re smiling at Jinki, he wants Jonghyun to twine their fingers together like how they’re holding Taemin’s hands and eagerly chattering with him, he wants Jonghyun to fit themself in his lap the way they’re sitting in Minho’s lap. He wants...Jonghyun to smile at him again.

But then - “Kibummie,” Jonghyun’s voice is small, uncertain and shy, “do you like my hair?”

(Kibum doesn’t know it, but Jonghyun is sitting in Minho’s lap to hide the trembling of their legs, and they’re squeezing Taemin’s hands tight enough to bruise from their nervousness, and their smile at Jinki had been wobbly, pasted on.

But Kibum doesn’t know that, so all he can say is-)

“Yeah, you look-” beautiful stunning gorgeous, “good. It suits you.”

Jonghyun’s smile doesn’t have its usual brilliance, but they do smile wide, and it makes Kibum’s heartbeat flutter in his chest.

Kibum still remembers the fragile moment when Jonghyun had confessed. And honestly, he’d kind of...known, from all the shy glances and soft smiles and lingering touches. And of course all the skinship and fanservice, but that wasn’t Jonghyun, that wasn’t his Jonghyun rather.

They’d been in Kibum’s room; Jonghyun often liked to sleep in Kibum’s bed because you’re scarier than my nightmares, Bummie and Kibum couldn’t resist Jonghyun’s wide-eyed wobbly-lipped pout. Kibum is at least attempting to read, and Jonghyun is curled up next to him, humming every so often and nudging Kibum so he’ll continue petting his hand through their hair.

“Kibummie,” Jonghyun had said, voice quiet and shy but still sure, “Kibummie, I have something to tell you.”

And Kibum closes his book, because it’d been like this when Jonghyun said Kibummie, I’m gay and later Kibummie, I don’t think I’m a guy? Not all the way - I don’t know what I am, just...use gender neutral pronouns? At least in private, until I tell the others… and Kibummie, I think I’m pansexual, and maybe a bit poly too. Kibum closes his book, and turns to Jonghyun, petting their hair once more before reaching out to lace their hands together.

“What is it, Jonghyunnie?”

Jonghyun doesn’t answer for a few endless moments, and Kibum lets them think, knows that they need the time, need to figure out how to vocalize all the thoughts that are in their brain. “Kibummie,” Jonghyun whispers, “I think - I like you.” the way they say it sounds like a question, and while Jonghyun’s voice is shaking, their eyes are sure.

And Kibum freezes, because he doesn’t. Know what to say. Jonghyun seems to sense this, because they smile and pat Kibum’s hand before murmuring, “It’s okay, I just wanted to say it.”

Jonghyun sleeps in their own bed that night, and for every night after. (And Kibum tries not to notice that the dark circles under their eyes are only growing.)

Kibum doesn’t think he’s ever been in love. He loves himself, he loves his dogs, he loves his family, and he loves his members, but he doesn’t love anything the way they show in dramas and movies and books. He’s never felt anything like in the way their song lyrics show (he’s always the last to finish recording because you need to feel the lyrics, Kibum, sing like you’re in love) and he certainly has never loved anyone the way Jonghyun loves him.

Jonghyun loves with their whole heart, effortlessly and completely, and even though they do smile and blush and stutter over cute tall boys all the time, their heart is always true - their gaze lands on Kibum and they’ll immediately drift closer, however unintentionally. (There have been so many times where one of the members will ask Jonghyun about their preference of a cute boy, and each time they’ll say he’s cute, but not as cute as Kibummie.) Jonghyun is blatant in their affections even if they fall in love so, so easily, and Kibum is jealous.

At first it had been sweet, the way Jonghyun acted around him, but then it got annoying...and now Kibum misses it.

Kibum lingers in Jonghyun’s door now - Jonghyun is working on something on their laptop, bobbing their head to music only they can hear, and Kibum smiles. Jonghyun is always listening to music, and while they can’t flow with the music like Taemin does, sharp and fluid, their voice…

Jonghyun is singing now, one of the new songs from their album - Cocktail, Kibum thinks. The way their lips curve up into a smile as they sing makes Kibum smile as well, but then Jonghyun sings the next few lines and they smirk and god, it makes sense now, what Jonghyun had intended the lyrics to mean. (I’m taking a sip of you right now, I can’t stop - one sip, without wings - I’m flying, what’s in my hand isn’t a glass, I wanna take you slowly-)

Jonghyun looks up at Kibum then, that infuriating, lopsided little smirk still in place, and Kibum bolts. (He’s half impressed and half disturbed and maybe a little pleased. And maybe, just maybe, a little horny.)

There’s maybe a week until Jonghyun’s comeback and Kibum has been tuning into Blue Night every night, often falling asleep to Jonghyun’s soothing radio voice. On the nights where he doesn’t fall asleep, Kibum waits up until he can hear the front door open - he never goes out to see Jonghyun, but he always feels himself relax when Jonghyun gets home safe every night. And if Jonghyun’s steps slow as they near Kibum’s door, Kibum flicks off the lamp and pretends that he’s asleep.

Kibum is listening to Blue Night now, more than half asleep, and Jonghyun is answering calls - Kibum doesn’t pay close attention, instead focusing on the sound of Jonghyun’s soft voice. It’s when he hears an almost-familiar voice say Jonghyun-ah, do well on your comeback! I saw your new hair, you look very cute and I’m sure all your fans agree. Jonghyun giggles and Kibum can imagine the blush that is probably staining their cheeks before they say, “Joonyoung-hyung,” (and since when were they at that stage of friendship?) “I’m not the cute one, hyung.”

Jung Joonyoung’s voice is teasing when he says, “I disagree, but we can save that discussion for another time. I’ll let you get back to your broadcast - fighting!”

And that is all Kibum hears, because he is pissed. Beyond pissed, he’s pretty sure he’s never been more annoyed irritated enraged than in this moment. And when Jonghyun comes trudging in almost an hour later, Kibum comes right out to meet him, a scowl on his lips and rage in his eyes.

“What the hell, Jonghyun?”

“What?” Jonghyun is immediately on the defensive, and Kibum doesn’t really blame them.

“You called him cute. And he called you cute-”

An incredulous snort of a laugh before Jonghyun shakes their head. The smile on their lips is bitter and it fades into a frown as they speak, “I’m not your boyfriend or anything, Kibum. I don’t belong to you.”

And oh, Kibum realizes, because Jonghyun is right.

(He lets Jonghyun slip from his grip and watch them go back to their room, suddenly feeling drained.)

When he finally gets settled and in bed, Kibum can’t sleep. Which is unusual, because Kibum generally falls right to sleep, especially after long days and longer nights like these, but now - his brain won’t stop. He keeps thinking about Jonghyun (their smile and their laugh and their voice and the heat of their body and the soft of their lips) and about himself and about them - about him and Jonghyun as a group, as what could’ve been.

He thinks about what they could’ve had: stolen kisses and quiet I love you’s and endless nights of cuddles, and he wishes that he could go back and say something, anything to Jonghyun’s confession, wishes that he could go back and say I don’t like you now, but maybe- because while he had not liked Jonghyun then, he-

Kibum realizes then, how stupid he’d been, how blind he was to have not seen it earlier. Without thinking (it’s almost 3:30 in the morning and Jonghyun had said they didn’t like him anymore and they’re probably asleep anyway), Kibum rushes over and barges into Jonghyun’s room, nerves buzzing and adrenaline high. Jonghyun is awake - there is still defensiveness in their eyes but they relax when Kibum says,

“Jonghyunnie, I have to tell you something.”

They don’t say anything, they just sit down on their bed and gesture for Kibum to do the same. And Kibum is suddenly dizzy when he collapses into Jonghyun (it smells so much like them and like the candles spread out around the room and he’s so dizzy he can’t even speak, but maybe he’s just nervous) but he manages to say, “Jonghyun, I think I like you.”

And if this is anything like how Jonghyun had felt, god. Kibum so desperately wants to go back now. But he can’t, and this is now, so-

“I know.”

And - what? “What?”

“I know,” Jonghyun’s smile is almost apologetic, and they say - quote, rather - “a man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.”

And oh, Kibum thinks, oh.

He’s sure the swirl of emotion must show on his face, because Jonghyun kind of just laughs and continues explaining, “I kind of knew you wouldn’t know until...well. You know. The others were all kind of in on it, sorry?”

Kibum kind of wants to yell, kind of wants to punch the lopsided grin from Jonghyun’s lips, kind of wants to kiss them senseless, but all he does is sigh, and when Jonghyun beams up at him and pats the spot next to them up on the bed, Kibum sighs again (like going over to sleep next to his...his Jonghyun is the hardest thing he could ever do) before obeying and nestling down beneath the covers.

A huge comet approaching earth, a natural disaster that would wipe out South Korea all at once, erasing it from the map as if it was an accidentally made spot of ink.

To make things worse Jonghyun wasn’t in Seoul with his family, but on the other side of the country for vacation, standing in the middle of a sidewalk in Busan, people screaming and crying, kneeling on the asphalt in despair all around him, the transportation system and radio network collapsed, cars lining up chaotically on the street, abandoned and forgotten since there was no use in leaving the city anymore, the whole country destined to disappear in less than an hour.

A modern version of Judgment Day.

There was no battlefield of the dead, no fire reaching up to the sky in bursting, hot flames, and no noise of advancing hooves belonging to the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. There was nothing the like but the screeching of people in agony.

Agony caused by the sudden realization that humans weren’t supreme, but small, petty parasites, infesting every fragment of this planet and claiming it as their own out of greed, only to let it slowly rot from the inside until it would eventually surrender, and fall apart completely.

“We should go somewhere else. I don’t want to be here during my last minutes on earth.”

There was a hand on Jonghyun’s wrist all of a sudden, pulling slightly on his wrinkled, white dress-shirt, urging him to start walking. As he turned around he looked straight up into a pair of feline eyes; eyes he barely knew. He had seen them for the first time less than nine hours ago, checking him out curiously in a club close to the beach, the person belonging to these eyes introducing himself as Kibum a little later.

“Where do you want to go?”

Sirens could be heard all over town, the same penetrating noise circulating in the air for almost two hours by now, a stern voice resounding through loudspeakers, telling everyone to stay calm.

What reason was there to stay calm if this place was doomed and there was no place to go, no way to survive?

“The beach.”

Jonghyun couldn’t fully fathom the situation he was in as he followed the other into the bustle of people, every single one of them having their own story to tell.

How many of them were alone in this town? How many of them had planned a date for today? How many of them celebrated their birthday? How many kids were about to be born nationwide in the next few minutes only to be faced with death shortly afterwards?

The man in front of him was slim, his movements smooth and delicate as he pushed his way through, throwing a look over his shoulder every few meters as if to make sure that Jonghyun was still there.

It was a surreal experience and Jonghyun felt like he had disconnected from his body already, feeling himself walk, but having no control over his actions anymore. His eyes were fixed on a prominent mop of blue dyed hair that stuck out from the crowd, his mind blending out all the noise around him.

Everything blurred into nothingness, the people, the sound, every single building surrounding him, and he just kept walking, and walking, the humid summer heat causing his shirt to stick to his skin, sweat rolling down his temples and neck, his eyes hurting from the brightness of the burning sun.

There were people trying to escape their destiny by boarding little fishing boats and rubber dinghies to leave the peninsula when the two of them finally reached the beach, the attempt hopeless, because the shock waves of the impact would reach far into the ocean, probably even noticeable on the Southern islands of Japan. However, faced by danger humans tended to clutch at any straw in faith for salvation, ignoring all possible consequences their actions might have.

The warm breeze near the ocean was refreshing, and drowned out the sirens echoing over the streets almost completely. Jonghyun took a deep breath, salt and desperation mixing in the air, a feeling of finality embracing him in its arms.

Usually, Busan’s white beaches were a haven for residents as well as tourists during summer, thousands of people swarming around to find an empty spot of land for their towels to flee daily life, but today it almost looked deserted despite the temperatures, no one but them and the people on their little boats occupying the hot sand.

His companion sat down beneath a left-behind sun umbrella; the stick crooked, and the white lacquer on it partially flaked off, revealing rusty patches of metal, the cloth of the blue cover torn on one side, the ragged piece of fabric waving in the wind, single threads coiling around like worms.

“That’s it, I guess. The final hour of our lives.”  

Kibum unfastened his red sneakers and placed them next to him on the ground before he took off his white socks, and neatly rolled them up to stuff them into his shoes, burying his toes into the sand.

“That’s not how I imagined it to be,” Jonghyun uttered quietly, sitting down into the shadow next to the other, looking out into the sea. The seagulls flying over the ocean, screeching, and looking for food, went on with their routine, lived their life like every day, not knowing that the fish they caught would be the last they ever ate. He wasn’t sure if he should pity or envy them for not knowing what was about to come, that this place would be gone as well as all existing life in foreseeable time.

“Me neither,” Kibum agreed, and lay down with a sigh, stretching out his pale legs into the sun, which were only covered by a short pair of blue, washed out jeans. “No need for sun blocker anymore, I guess.”

Involuntarily both of them started laughing at the absurdity of the comment, waiting for their lives to end, but wasting thoughts on trivial things like the prevention of a sun burn.

“It’s weird knowing that you will be the last person I will see in this life.”

Jonghyun turned serious again, and gazed down at Kibum before concentrating back on the sea when the other looked back at him.

“I think you can be lucky that it is my face and not the face of someone far less attractive,” Kibum replied in a teasingly mocking tone, putting a small smile onto Jonghyun’s face. They had spent the night together at a cheap hour motel, a hook-up that was about to turn into the last social interaction of his life.

The sirens had woken them up from a short slumber, Jonghyun’s head still aching from the whiskey he had drunk the night before, his legs and arms entangled with the other’s naked, sweaty form beside him. Jonghyun had gone clubbing with the goal of getting laid, the simplicity of this human desire making him snort scornfully in retrospective. He should have stayed home in Seoul with his family, should have given his mom a foot rub, his sister a compliment, and his dog a treat, but all should have’s were pointless now, changing nothing about his circumstances.

“Why do you think it will hit us of all places in the world? Do you think it’s because we wanted too much in too little time?”

“The world, as it is now, wants to die, wants to perish — and it will,” Jonghyun responded absentmindedly, diving his hands into the sand and lifting them up again, letting the grains trickle between his fingers, the feeling somehow comforting.  

“Where is this from?”

“Demian by Herman Hesse. It’s one of my favorites. Under other conditions I would recommend you reading it.”

Jonghyun rubbed his hands against his black skinny jeans to get rid of the sand before he reached for his cell phone in his pocket, a picture of his sister appearing on the screen as he pressed the menu button.

“South Korea is just the beginning. Others will follow soon. If not hit by a natural catastrophe then by a man-made one. Humans have been greedy for too long, polluting the air, the land, and the sea, destroying nature with every step they take, not caring about other lives existing on this planet. This world can’t go on like this. It doesn’t want to go on like this,” Jonghyun explained pensively, unlocking the screen of his phone only to see that there was still no radio signal, robbing him of the chance to talk to his family one last time.

Yet he opened his messenger app to write his mother and sister that he loved them, sending the text off into no-man’s-land before pushing the phone back into his pocket with a sigh, hoping that they were together, that they were safe, that they weren’t scared.  

It was strangely quiet on the beach like the silence before a storm, ringing in the beginning of an end.

“Do you have any regrets?”

Like a movie Jonghyun saw his life pass in front of his eyes; kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school, university, and his first real job. Saw missed chances, unrequited love interests, accomplishments, failures and success, saw his first love and his last one, saw the good times he had with friends, and the lonely times when he thought he was the only person left on this planet.

Every experience – be it good or bad – had formed him, had made him into the person he was today, a person he was proud of.

“No, I don’t think so. You?”

Kibum sat up then, pulled his legs towards his chest, and hugged his knees, staring straight ahead into the distance, his blue strands of hair softly waving into the breeze, covering his eyes every now and then.

“Yes, actually I have,” he began, and licked his lips. “I should have come out earlier and stand up for myself instead of hiding behind a mask, pretending to be someone I’m not for years.”

Kibum combed his hair back with his hand, and held it in place for a moment before he let it fall back into his face again, the strands parting in the middle of his scalp, framing his smooth forehead beautifully.

“There was this guy called Minho. I had a crush on him all throughout high-school. He probably wasn’t into guys, but who knows. I should have told him after graduating that he was my first love so I could find closure, but I never did. It always bothered me to not know what could have been, you know? What if he had felt the same way and had the same fears as I had? I eventually moved on and got over him when I entered university and stumbled upon my first boyfriend in a lecture about renaissance art, but this question always lingered in the back of my mind. What if things had been different? First loves are hard to forget, I guess. Even if the love was one-sided.”

Jonghyun hummed in agreement, thinking about his own first crush, an exchange student from Japan who had joined Jonghyun’s class in his first year of high school, and had made him want to learn Japanese on the spot. Unfortunately, his motivation for learning the language by watching anime non-stop had dropped as quickly as it had come when the boy had moved back to his home country after only four weeks.

“Why aren’t you with your family or friends right now, but suggested going to the beach with a complete stranger instead?”

“You are not a complete stranger, but a person I slept with. So let’s call you an acquaintance of bodily intimacy since it sounds more formal than a hook-up,” Kibum deadpanned, bumping his knee against Jonghyun’s. “I’m from Daegu, I only came to Busan for a gallery opening that was supposed to take place in two days. I thought I should combine this trip with a short vacation. Dying during my break from work. That’s the way to go, I guess. What about you?”

Kibum leaned forward to rest his cheek on his knees, having his head turned to Jonghyun to look at him.

Wasn’t it fascinating how one could have already seen a person’s naked body squirm in pleasure and arousal, have licked every part of their body with their tongue, have seen them come with loud moans, and yet didn’t even know where they were from or what they did for a living?

Not that it mattered anymore.

Every word that left their lips would be forgotten when their time had come, and Jonghyun heard the clock ticking away in his mind, every passing second bringing them closer to their fate.

“I live in Seoul, but decided to take a short break from everything and come here to see something else for once.”

“Maybe it was destiny that two people who are not from Busan meet each other in this city for their final goodbyes,” Kibum pondered, a pout framing his small mouth. His face was pretty with its high cheekbones and bright skin, a mischievous sparkle gleaming in his eyes whenever he started talking. If they had met at a different time, at a different place Jonghyun would probably have asked him out on a date to actually get to know more about him than just the small, cute butterfly tattoo next to his navel, and the faded, finger length scar on his inner left thigh.  

The little boats were far out in the ocean now, getting smaller and smaller until they disappeared beyond the horizon. Maybe there was a chance for these escapees after all, maybe they would make it far enough so only their boats would get ripped apart by the shock wave and not their bodies. But what were they going to do after that, swimming in salt water without any land in sight? Die on the high sea? Torn apart in the blink of an eye by the impact of the comet seemed like a better death, a less painful one compared to drowning from exhaustion.

“I wonder why I’m so calm and haven’t freaked out yet. Maybe I’m still believing that all this is just a macabre joke or a nightmare I’m eventually going to wake up from,” Kibum said after a while and straightened up again, stretching his arms behind his head one at a time, moving his shoulders in a circular motion.

“I feel the same way. I know I should panic, scream, cry, show any kind of emotion, but this all feels so unreal, as if it was part of a very bad dream. I know it’s not, but I feel numbed,” Jonghyun described his thoughts in a composed voice, his eyes wandering along the coast, and up into the sky.

His posture stiffened when he saw the comet, his hand automatically reaching out to grab Kibum’s shoulder, his free hand pointing at the sky. There it was, still far away in the distance, but visibly getting closer. It would only take about fifteen more minutes before the comet would fly above their heads on its way to end their lives. According to the emergency announcement the comet would crash near Daejon, around 125 miles away from Busan.

Allegedly the military had tried to destroy the comet before it could reach the peninsula on request of the government, but all attempts had been unsuccessful. At least that’s what the voice had said. But who knew what the truth was? Maybe members of the government had left the country in their private jets by now, abandoning South Korea and its people, treating them like a sounder of swine on their way to the butcher. In a government having turned out to be so corrupt and ruthless it wouldn’t come as a surprise to Jonghyun.

“So this oversized shooting star will extinguish us at a single blow?”

Kibum didn’t seem convinced and tilted his head, looking a little dumbfounded.

“It seems like it.”

They hadn’t given out detailed information about the comet and its size. The last time Jonghyun had been able to check the news, the comet had still been described as a harmless and a seldom occurring spectacle, because it would pass earth close enough to be actually detectable by the human eye. What had caused the comet to change its course all of a sudden?

It was a question Jonghyun would never get an answer to.

“Damn, I feel like getting drunk,” Kibum groaned, fanning himself, pulling at the collar of his white, loose tank top to blow some cold air into it. Jonghyun looked around the beach, turning his head to scan the nearby street for any vending machines.

“Your wish is my command,” was all he uttered when he finally discovered two of them standing right next to each other, and he stood up from the ground, tapping off the sand on his jeans before crossing the beach on his way to the beverage dispensers. Spending his last money on some alcohol in the morning seemed like a wise decision, he thought as he scanned his ID before choosing different brands of beer, the cans falling into the retrieval unit at the bottom of the vending machine with a metallic clicking sound.

As he was about to put his ID back into his wallet he halted for a second, fingers gliding over all the information that made him identifiable for everyone on this planet, letters and numbers that had determined his life. It all seemed so useless now.

Before going back he used the remaining coins in his wallet on some chocolate bars, sour gummy worms, a small bag of chips, and a pack of salted peanuts. There was no need for him to care of his diet or health anymore. Both arms loaded with sweets and beer he made his way back to Kibum, the comet already appearing to be bigger compared to the last time he had checked. He let the snacks flutter into the other’s lap like snow before he sat down with the beer in his arms, neatly lining up the cans in the sand.

“I didn’t know what brand you like, so I bought everything that was offered. Choose whatever you like,” he explained swiftly, letting his hand wander over the different cans in an inviting gesture.

“Wow, right now I honestly pity myself for only meeting you on the last day of my life. You seem like quite the catch, Mr. Jonghyun,” Kibum stated with a wink, going for the blue can in the middle.

“It’s Kim. Kim Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun didn’t know why he had said it, since what importance had it for him to say his full name anymore? Was it a flash of nostalgia? An anxious wish to not be completely forgotten? He hadn’t accomplished anything in his life that could be found in any history books, his name so common without a touch of uniqueness to it. And yet he had always liked hearing his name, had liked the sweetness it had when his mother said it, the teasing roughness when his sister used it, or the urgency it had when a lover called it during sex.

“If it weren’t for Kim being the most common surname in Korea I might as well believe that we’re indeed destined, Mr. Kim Jonghyun. My name is Kim Kibum.”

With that Kibum cracked open the can with a sizzle, the carbonated beverage fizzing out, causing the other to immediately lift the can to his lips, slurping loudly.

“Cheers to us then, Kim Kibum,” Jonghyun smirked, opening his own can to lift it into the air. “To the last minutes of our lives,” he toasted, and then clinked cans with the other. The liquid felt cold as it trickled down his throat, the sweet bitterness letting him forget the reason why they sat on the beach at 8am in the morning with beer in their hands.

“I loved this sticky, gummy stuff when I was a kid. I would always go to the 7-Eleven near my elementary school to spend my pocket money on it,” Kibum mumbled after he had ripped open the black bag of gummies, munching on a sugar coated red and blue colored worm, half of it hanging out of his mouth. “It’s weird how I remember the oddest details of my childhood right now. There was this flower shop near my house and it always smelled of exotic flowers in my room because of that. We moved away from this shop over eighteen years ago, but somehow I have this distinct, familiar, flowery scent in my nose all of a sudden, and I don’t know why,” he continued in thought, taking another worm before offering the bag to Jonghyun.

“Maybe our brains already have accepted the fact that it will all be over soon, and want to remind us of nicer episodes in our lives,” he replied quietly, seeing himself walk around the house in his kendo uniform as a little boy, jumping in front of his sister with a bright pink swimming noodle in his hands every chance he got, challenging her to a duel, his sister only rolling his eyes at him and calling for their mom when he didn’t stop going on her nerves. He had been such an annoying little brother, he thought to himself with a smile, wondering if his sister still remembered it.

“It’s quite close now,” Jonghyun stated after a while of them sitting next to each other in silence while drinking their beer and eating unhealthy snacks. The comet was red and blazing, dragging a bright train behind.

It was the first time Jonghyun felt something like fear bubbling up inside of him, his insides clenching uncomfortably, and his heartbeat quickening in his chest. Humans often started to feel emotions like fear or happiness only when directly confronted with the things that caused them, when it became tangible, noticeable for their own eyes.  

“Do you think it will hurt?” Kibum’s energetic voice was quieter now, the mischievousness in his eyes gone when Jonghyun looked at him.  

“I don’t know, but I imagine it to be over quickly. Don’t be scared.”

Jonghyun grabbed for Kibum’s hand then, squeezing it lightly, both of their palms sweaty and sticky. He felt like the words he had just spoken out loud were rather meant to calm his own nerves than being a reassurance for the other, his body trembling.

“Can you hold me?”

The comet was flying above their heads now, darkening the blue sky, and throwing a big shadow on earth. They could feel the almost unbearable heat radiating from it, the ear-piercing sound it made as it passed them. Jonghyun let the beer can fall into the sand without a second of hesitation, the leaking liquid coloring the sand in a deep brown as he leaned forward to sling his arms around the man next to him, clinging on to him as if he was his most beloved possession.

He thought about his sister and about his mother, about their family dog, and the friends he would never be able to see again, tears finally starting to build up in his eyes, and running down his cheeks, falling onto Kibum’s tank top.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

Kibum’s voice was not more than a whisper and Jonghyun only tightened his embrace, nestling his nose into the other’s hair, breathing in salt and soap, and pressing a soft kiss onto his head, fingertips burying themselves into the other’s skin.

They waited, and waited, listening to the rushing of the waves, and the calling of the seagulls. Jonghyun heard his own heartbeat drumming in his ears as if it was a marching band accompanying him on his way to face the gallows, felt the quivering of Kibum’s body in his arms.

Seconds and minutes passed without anything happening, the tension in Jonghyun’s body agonizing. But then everything fell silent all of a sudden, the waves, the seagulls, Kibum in his arms.

The heat that washed over them seconds later was insufferable, swallowing and devouring their bodies, lashing their skin, tearing it apart. Jonghyun held onto the other desperately, the shock wave hurling and pushing them towards the ocean. There was a moment of splitting pain in his skull, and Jonghyun heard Kibum piteously scream in agony.

Then the moment was gone, a feeling of warmth and light flowing through Jonghyun’s body. He felt free and weightless, his body drifting through the air in ashes before there was nothing left of him. Nothing left of his world.

Time had stopped.

The world was still.