[fic] Don't Forget to Live
Feb. 26th, 2012 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sessho08Title: Don't Forget to Live
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing: Homin
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3,090
A/N: Fic with actual semblance of plot, *gasp*!
This is set in the world from the film In Time. I really loved the concept and thought it'd suit Homin perfectly, so I tried my hand at it.
The basic premise is that in the future the technology's advanced to the point where people age only until they're 25 years old. After that they have one default year left, though, and the world's currency is the very same time, too.
Obviously, I took some liberties while writing this piece as not everything was clear or touched upon in the film. Still, I hope it'll be enjoyable even for the people that haven't seen it. :)
Lastly - big thanks to the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
isaofdoom who looked through this fic for me. ♥
They first meet when they still have all the time in the world. Yunho’s eight and Changmin six years old, which makes their eternities seventeen and nineteen years long respectively.
Changmin’s father is still alive then and Yunho’s family just gained an addition in the form of a baby girl called Jihye. His parents can’t quite afford a second child, even little Yunho understands that, but they don’t seem to care, so he too, thinks that maybe it doesn’t matter as much.
They both live in small apartments in the same neighbourhood and their parents are busy all the time (like everyone else is, really), so their meeting taking place is quite a natural thing even if accompanied by a bit of wariness thrown to the mix of curiosity and excitement that the gazes they give each other hold. It’s almost stranger that it didn’t happen much earlier.
They soon become friends even if Changmin needs a little coaxing, but he’s always been a little on the shy side.
The beginning of their friendship happens almost simultaneously with the start of Yunho’s odd jobs. With a four-member family it’s a necessity, his parents can’t possibly earn enough to make it do for them themselves and their children. Jihye’s still just an infant, so it’s expected that Yunho becomes the one that’s supposed to relieve their situation just a tiniest bit, so they can all welcome the next day.
So Changmin helps. At the start, Yunho’s a tad reluctant, saying that the other is too young and that he has to protect him from harm as an older brother (that he’s just become for real) but Changmin turns out to be surprisingly persistent (‘I am old enough! And I’m almost your height, too,’) and soon enough, mornings see them meeting up in a seedy street that’s connecting their houses.
At first, neither he nor Yunho know what they’re doing but they learn quick enough – they have no choice but to do so. It’s not always safe. They’re not always successful. They get close a few times, too - sometimes barely managing not to risk the anger of the influential, unofficial powers of the ghetto that don’t like anyone touching something that’s theirs. But with mutual efforts they scrape along.
Changmin’s parents aren’t always happy with the state their boy comes home in but they’ve been through this as well and they’re aware that the earlier you learn how to take care of yourself, the more advantageous your survival rates become.
And then his father runs out of time (offering to share with someone who couldn’t be trusted and losing his life in the process) and him and his mother are left alone to fend for themselves and suddenly his newly gained skills are actually needed.
And she tells him, ‘your father’s always been a bit of a fool under this façade of wisdom of his. I loved him for that,’ her face not aged a day since she’s turned twenty-five and yet, looking older than ever.
***
On Yunho’s twenty-fifth birthday he’s nowhere to be seen.
Changmin waits for him in the other’s room. The Jungs are working outside, and Jihye’s not even interested in his appearance in the slightest - what with the frequency the two of them meet and the fact that they both have an additional key to each other’s apartments, have had for years already.
He splurged a bit and bought some food that he knows Yunho’s bound to like. (He even resisted asking for it to be made extra spicy, even though his friend would eat it anyway, although with exaggerated ‘are you trying to kill me!’ exclamations accompanied by the warmest of laughs.) He waits patiently for an hour and then more, the package with food still untouched on the table.
Then he keeps on waiting with no traces of patience left.
Yunho doesn’t show up.
When he finally comes home, he learns from his mother of the awful accident at the factory that happened just hours ago. He runs back to the Jungs’ apartment and somehow manages to convince Jihye to go with him.
She doesn’t break down, she doesn’t even cry.
Yunho shows up on the dawn, his clothes dark and filthy, his face almost expressionless. He thanks them profusely for taking care of his sister, bowing low, so low.
(On his left arm he extends when his sister barges out from Changmin’s room that he ceded to her for the night, there are already whole months missing.)
Changmin’s offer of help gets gently refused and then the two are gone. He shouldn’t be surprised or hurt by this refusal. He’s not. He does understand.
It’s still with his fist bloodied and the shitty wall of his room slightly dented that he finally surrenders to a short, restless slumber.
The next day, Yunho invites him over. When he opens the door of his apartment, his nostrils are immediately filled with an aroma that he recognises at once.
Yunho’s all smiles (subdued) and thank you’s (unnecessary) and I’m sorry’s (that fool). Once they start eating, though, there’s nothing but the sounds of cutlery clinking, food being chewed, and their breathing.
When they’re done Changmin pushes the table back and punches the other man hard in the shoulder, once and then repeatedly. Hissing with the pain but unmindful of it, Yunho just sits here taking it all, shaken with the force of Changmin’s blows, but not moving otherwise.
It’s only when Changmin pulls him into a tight, almost crushing embrace that he stirs.
‘Changmin-ah, it hurts,’ he whispers, almost inaudibly.
‘I know, I know it does,’ he murmurs back and clings all the harder, until Yunho’s hands find their way to his back and clench in the material of his shirt, until his frame starts trembling minutely.
They stay this way for a long time – neither of them knows how long exactly, only that now there is already time to be measured down.
That night they sleep on one bed and while this happens often enough, it’s for the first time since years that they drift off with their legs tangled together and their arms around each other. There’s no space for two grown men on Yunho’s bed, the position they’re in (Yunho with his chin resting lightly on the top of Changmin’s head even though the latter’s been the taller one for years) isn’t that comfortable and it’s way too hot, yet it’s the best night of rest that Changmin’s got during last months. Judging by the way Yunho’s smiling just a bit more sincerely come next morning, the same holds true for him as well.
***
There are… moments.
He catches Yunho looking at him too long. It happens the other way around too.
Changmin’s hand lingers on Yunho’s back for seconds too long, especially considering how not fond of psychical contact in general he is.
He gets accustomed to moving around by running even though he still doesn’t have to. (Yunho has.)
They make their way at leisure pace because Yunho beams at him with a ‘let’s take a walk today.’
Other people, neighbours, co-workers actually spare a moment to comment on how bright, how happy he looks this day or another. (He’s just talked with Yunho. He just returned from a dinner break spent together – food swallowed as fast as they’re only able to, so they could talk more. They had a guys night. He just saw a glimpse of Yunho on the other end of the factory.)
He wakes up with his chest still heaving and his underwear sticky, the images (of a person so familiar) that brought him to his release still (too) vivid on his eyelids when he closes his eyes.
He hopes against hope and he denies everything that proves that there’s not any hope needed.
***
The day before Changmin’s twenty-fifth birthday, Yunho asks him when exactly he was born. It’s a bit of a weird question but he’s already used to Yunho’s quirks so while he’s curious, he just answers truthfully.
The actual day passes rather uneventfully. It’s up to the point that Changmin’s almost disappointed because while he assured himself that he wasn’t expecting anything specific, he might’ve just had expected something. (Anything, really.)
Instead of this, they go to work like they always do and repeat their daily routine. The only change is the fact that they come back to Yunho’s house for a quite filling meal – made and served by Jihye. (‘It’s not much but we both thought we could celebrate your birthday at least a bit? I helped with the preparations today morning, too!’)
They work to the end of their shift and it’s getting dark already and Changmin’s about to go back home, when Yunho stops him with a warm hand reaching for his.
‘Can we go somewhere?’, he inquires with a soft smile and it’s not like Changmin has anything important to do.
They end up at the ghetto’s outskirts – no where Changmin hasn’t been many times before.
They make to sit on the yellowish grass and then Yunho gently pushes Changmin down.
His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, his heart starts pounding at a staggering pace even when he tells it to calm down and begins calling himself names in his head. Even when the treacherous thought ‘maybe—‘ appears in his mind.
But then Yunho is lying down next to him, grasping his hand and squeezing it with his own. He turns his head in Changmin’s way and the sudden murmur of ‘are you ready?’ leaves Changmin baffled for a short moment. ‘For what’ doesn’t make it out of his lips because that’s when his heart skips a beat for a completely different reason and it’s an ugly, unpleasant sensation. It comes with a simultaneous realization that his time’s just started running that’s confirmed when he rises slightly and sees his left arm glowing at him with a neon green in the darkness.
He turns to Yunho again, the other already sitting again and answering his unvoiced question.
‘It’s just... I thought it’d be… nice to have someone next to you when it happens?’ and Changmin can’t really see his features well in the darkness but he can imagine the embarrassed smile that’s making its way on Yunho’s face as he’s speaking.
And he gets it, right at this moment - feeling more than slightly abashed at his previous disappointment.
‘It was nice,’ he whispers back (he doesn’t know himself why Yunho is whispering, why he himself is), and is glad for the cover the night gives him. ‘It was.’
Yunho squeezes his hand again and really, that’s enough.
***
Changmin’s first shared time is with Yunho.
He gets all mad afterwards and deliberately doesn’t speak to the other man for several hours.
He knows it’s more than a bit ridiculous and that the person he’s hurting the most with his childish, unreasonable behaviour is basically himself.
Even though he and Yunho work at the assembly line in one factory making time storing devices, they don’t always get to have a chance to be put in the same hall or they end up being separated with all the metres and even more people. Today is one of the days when their work-places are actually right next to each other. They could have spent several hours together and get paid for it.
Yet, he can’t help feeling inexplicably angry. Hurt.
It’s true that he was running a bit low and he could’ve used some additional time but he’d be fine without it. That’s why he was here, in this factory, working his ass off.
But he took Yunho’s advice that it’s better not to risk too much and let the other pour some of his time into him.
He didn’t need that much. But before he even managed to voice out his protest, Yunho was already drawing back, with that trade-mark dumb soft-edged smile of his, and Changmin’s blood boiled and before he could stop himself, he was already rushing past him – somewhere, anywhere – not looking back even once.
***
Changmin gets close once.
He’s down with a high fever, tossing around on his narrow single bed in shallow but persistent slumber. He’s supposed to have gone to work. He’s been running low on time since yesterday, too. He needs that injection. Even the alarm couldn’t wake him up, he didn’t even hear it.
His mother’s been out for two days already, working her own shift in the factory.
He stays unconscious all morning, oblivious of the numbers trickling away, getting dangerously nearer and nearer to zero with every harsh breath he takes.
Yunho finds him this way – unaware, with only three last of his thirteen digits still flashing with the life-giving neon green.
He doesn’t panic, quickly taking Changmin’s hand where it clung to the worn-out blanket, and pressing it to his own arm, forcing his time through.
It’s not enough, not by a long shot. Yunho gathers the other’s limp form, arranges it with difficulty on his own back.
He barely makes it to the help centre and it’s only by miracle that there’s still some time to be given out left.
Changmin rouses only when it’s all over. He knows something has happened (how could he not – he’s still alive when by all means he shouldn’t be) but Yunho refuses to tell him anything besides ‘it’s fine already’. And even though Changmin can’t bear not to know, the look in Yunho’s eyes stops him from further probing. (The look has been directed at him far too many times already. Even now, Changmin’s still – too afraid–not ready for what it holds and how it can and will change his life – he knows that if he insisted now, there’d be no going back anymore.)
And Yunho. Yunho gets close all the time.
***
Too close.
He almost loses him a year later.
It happens so unnoticeably, so easily.
Yunho’s been sharing with lots of people. Changmin understands the urge and even though it gets worrying every now and then (as Yunho’s always had problems with comprehending the meaning of ‘limit’), he sees nothing wrong in it. It’s admirable and as long as he’s careful, why not.
(It’s not like he could tell Yunho to stop and the other would listen to him.)
It doesn’t happen because Yunho’s careless or because he doesn’t know better. He isn’t and he does.
It happens because sometimes, just sometimes, Yunho disregards it all and does things that are against all reasons.
They both have had their share of encounters with the local gang of time thieves, Minutemen, they both know their methods of working, their deception. That there’s helping people in need and then there’s just reckless risking.
Changmin’s more than aware of that and he knows that Yunho’s not oblivious to it either. It’s this knowledge lodged deeply in his gut.
And yet when he gets a bad hunch after him and Yunho separate after work, promising each other to meet later in the evening, he makes a sudden halt and changes the direction in which he’s been running.
Yunho lives only because this particular gangster likes to play with his prey and doesn’t drain him fully, preferring to amuse himself with the way the digits are slowly but inexorably nearing the moment when they all become the same and lose their bright hue.
Yunho lives because Changmin has a gun and a steady hand and skills honed by years of trying to survive in this world. Because what he doesn’t have at that particular moment is hesitation.
He aims not stopping in his tracks for longer than it’s absolutely required and then he’s already reaching two bodies sprawled on the ground and pressing his hand to the underarm of one of them, willing Yunho’s time to move, not to have stopped yet.
When the neon numbers begin rising, the relief that floods him is almost unendurable.
He doesn’t wait for Yunho to sit by himself, clutching his jacket and drawing him up by force.
‘You fool!’ he screams at him, his fingers digging into his shoulders, his nails probably leaving half-moon-shaped traces even through the clothes.
‘Do you know what it’d do to me—you stupid—,’ his voice breaks down, and he rubs angrily at his eyes, at the prickliness he feels forming there and then he’s engulfed in a tight hug, pressed close, so close that it almost hurts. But he’d rather it hurt this way, and then Yunho’s already whispering streak of apologies into his ear; apologies he doesn’t want to hear, he doesn’t want to ever have to hear in the future anymore - that he wouldn’t bear being deprived of the chance of hearing.
And then the tears actually start trickling down his cheeks, accompanied by hiccupping sobs and Yunho’s moving back and then there are hands cradling his face and the light press of lips on his own.
He pushes Yunho back and seeing his dumbfounded expression grumbles ‘Don’t think I’m this easy.’ And then they’re hugging again and laughing until their stomachs ache and only after they’ve calmed down and gone back home (Changmin’s this time, though, really, it’s not like it matters), the kissing resumes and is followed by more and then more still.
***
Yunho doesn’t stop sharing. He still does it when he’s been twenty-five years old for ten years and he doesn’t quit when it’s been twenty years either.
Neither do their occasional arguments about this end.
But Changmin always makes sure to share with Yunho so neither of them is ever running too low or if they are – they are together.
Maybe eternity isn’t meant for them – not with the poor district they live in, with prices rising all the time, with every day being a fight with time and most people they’re surrounded by being both their rivals in this survival game and just individuals sharing with them this strict, demanding reality, this harsh fate.
Maybe they aren’t meant to live forever. But Changmin doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t yearn for eternity and neither does Yunho. He’s fine with whatever they get, as long as it’s together.
The only thing he hopes for (as he’s finally learnt to let himself hope) is that he’ll never get older than Yunho and that when they finally leave – whether it’ll be their decision or something that’ll be imposed on them – it’ll be together too.
----
A/N: I'm never writing anything with plot again. XD
Comments and critique very appreciated ♥
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing: Homin
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3,090
A/N: Fic with actual semblance of plot, *gasp*!
This is set in the world from the film In Time. I really loved the concept and thought it'd suit Homin perfectly, so I tried my hand at it.
The basic premise is that in the future the technology's advanced to the point where people age only until they're 25 years old. After that they have one default year left, though, and the world's currency is the very same time, too.
Obviously, I took some liberties while writing this piece as not everything was clear or touched upon in the film. Still, I hope it'll be enjoyable even for the people that haven't seen it. :)
Lastly - big thanks to the lovely
isaofdoom who looked through this fic for me. ♥ They first meet when they still have all the time in the world. Yunho’s eight and Changmin six years old, which makes their eternities seventeen and nineteen years long respectively.
Changmin’s father is still alive then and Yunho’s family just gained an addition in the form of a baby girl called Jihye. His parents can’t quite afford a second child, even little Yunho understands that, but they don’t seem to care, so he too, thinks that maybe it doesn’t matter as much.
They both live in small apartments in the same neighbourhood and their parents are busy all the time (like everyone else is, really), so their meeting taking place is quite a natural thing even if accompanied by a bit of wariness thrown to the mix of curiosity and excitement that the gazes they give each other hold. It’s almost stranger that it didn’t happen much earlier.
They soon become friends even if Changmin needs a little coaxing, but he’s always been a little on the shy side.
The beginning of their friendship happens almost simultaneously with the start of Yunho’s odd jobs. With a four-member family it’s a necessity, his parents can’t possibly earn enough to make it do for them themselves and their children. Jihye’s still just an infant, so it’s expected that Yunho becomes the one that’s supposed to relieve their situation just a tiniest bit, so they can all welcome the next day.
So Changmin helps. At the start, Yunho’s a tad reluctant, saying that the other is too young and that he has to protect him from harm as an older brother (that he’s just become for real) but Changmin turns out to be surprisingly persistent (‘I am old enough! And I’m almost your height, too,’) and soon enough, mornings see them meeting up in a seedy street that’s connecting their houses.
At first, neither he nor Yunho know what they’re doing but they learn quick enough – they have no choice but to do so. It’s not always safe. They’re not always successful. They get close a few times, too - sometimes barely managing not to risk the anger of the influential, unofficial powers of the ghetto that don’t like anyone touching something that’s theirs. But with mutual efforts they scrape along.
Changmin’s parents aren’t always happy with the state their boy comes home in but they’ve been through this as well and they’re aware that the earlier you learn how to take care of yourself, the more advantageous your survival rates become.
And then his father runs out of time (offering to share with someone who couldn’t be trusted and losing his life in the process) and him and his mother are left alone to fend for themselves and suddenly his newly gained skills are actually needed.
And she tells him, ‘your father’s always been a bit of a fool under this façade of wisdom of his. I loved him for that,’ her face not aged a day since she’s turned twenty-five and yet, looking older than ever.
***
On Yunho’s twenty-fifth birthday he’s nowhere to be seen.
Changmin waits for him in the other’s room. The Jungs are working outside, and Jihye’s not even interested in his appearance in the slightest - what with the frequency the two of them meet and the fact that they both have an additional key to each other’s apartments, have had for years already.
He splurged a bit and bought some food that he knows Yunho’s bound to like. (He even resisted asking for it to be made extra spicy, even though his friend would eat it anyway, although with exaggerated ‘are you trying to kill me!’ exclamations accompanied by the warmest of laughs.) He waits patiently for an hour and then more, the package with food still untouched on the table.
Then he keeps on waiting with no traces of patience left.
Yunho doesn’t show up.
When he finally comes home, he learns from his mother of the awful accident at the factory that happened just hours ago. He runs back to the Jungs’ apartment and somehow manages to convince Jihye to go with him.
She doesn’t break down, she doesn’t even cry.
Yunho shows up on the dawn, his clothes dark and filthy, his face almost expressionless. He thanks them profusely for taking care of his sister, bowing low, so low.
(On his left arm he extends when his sister barges out from Changmin’s room that he ceded to her for the night, there are already whole months missing.)
Changmin’s offer of help gets gently refused and then the two are gone. He shouldn’t be surprised or hurt by this refusal. He’s not. He does understand.
It’s still with his fist bloodied and the shitty wall of his room slightly dented that he finally surrenders to a short, restless slumber.
The next day, Yunho invites him over. When he opens the door of his apartment, his nostrils are immediately filled with an aroma that he recognises at once.
Yunho’s all smiles (subdued) and thank you’s (unnecessary) and I’m sorry’s (that fool). Once they start eating, though, there’s nothing but the sounds of cutlery clinking, food being chewed, and their breathing.
When they’re done Changmin pushes the table back and punches the other man hard in the shoulder, once and then repeatedly. Hissing with the pain but unmindful of it, Yunho just sits here taking it all, shaken with the force of Changmin’s blows, but not moving otherwise.
It’s only when Changmin pulls him into a tight, almost crushing embrace that he stirs.
‘Changmin-ah, it hurts,’ he whispers, almost inaudibly.
‘I know, I know it does,’ he murmurs back and clings all the harder, until Yunho’s hands find their way to his back and clench in the material of his shirt, until his frame starts trembling minutely.
They stay this way for a long time – neither of them knows how long exactly, only that now there is already time to be measured down.
That night they sleep on one bed and while this happens often enough, it’s for the first time since years that they drift off with their legs tangled together and their arms around each other. There’s no space for two grown men on Yunho’s bed, the position they’re in (Yunho with his chin resting lightly on the top of Changmin’s head even though the latter’s been the taller one for years) isn’t that comfortable and it’s way too hot, yet it’s the best night of rest that Changmin’s got during last months. Judging by the way Yunho’s smiling just a bit more sincerely come next morning, the same holds true for him as well.
***
There are… moments.
He catches Yunho looking at him too long. It happens the other way around too.
Changmin’s hand lingers on Yunho’s back for seconds too long, especially considering how not fond of psychical contact in general he is.
He gets accustomed to moving around by running even though he still doesn’t have to. (Yunho has.)
They make their way at leisure pace because Yunho beams at him with a ‘let’s take a walk today.’
Other people, neighbours, co-workers actually spare a moment to comment on how bright, how happy he looks this day or another. (He’s just talked with Yunho. He just returned from a dinner break spent together – food swallowed as fast as they’re only able to, so they could talk more. They had a guys night. He just saw a glimpse of Yunho on the other end of the factory.)
He wakes up with his chest still heaving and his underwear sticky, the images (of a person so familiar) that brought him to his release still (too) vivid on his eyelids when he closes his eyes.
He hopes against hope and he denies everything that proves that there’s not any hope needed.
***
The day before Changmin’s twenty-fifth birthday, Yunho asks him when exactly he was born. It’s a bit of a weird question but he’s already used to Yunho’s quirks so while he’s curious, he just answers truthfully.
The actual day passes rather uneventfully. It’s up to the point that Changmin’s almost disappointed because while he assured himself that he wasn’t expecting anything specific, he might’ve just had expected something. (Anything, really.)
Instead of this, they go to work like they always do and repeat their daily routine. The only change is the fact that they come back to Yunho’s house for a quite filling meal – made and served by Jihye. (‘It’s not much but we both thought we could celebrate your birthday at least a bit? I helped with the preparations today morning, too!’)
They work to the end of their shift and it’s getting dark already and Changmin’s about to go back home, when Yunho stops him with a warm hand reaching for his.
‘Can we go somewhere?’, he inquires with a soft smile and it’s not like Changmin has anything important to do.
They end up at the ghetto’s outskirts – no where Changmin hasn’t been many times before.
They make to sit on the yellowish grass and then Yunho gently pushes Changmin down.
His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, his heart starts pounding at a staggering pace even when he tells it to calm down and begins calling himself names in his head. Even when the treacherous thought ‘maybe—‘ appears in his mind.
But then Yunho is lying down next to him, grasping his hand and squeezing it with his own. He turns his head in Changmin’s way and the sudden murmur of ‘are you ready?’ leaves Changmin baffled for a short moment. ‘For what’ doesn’t make it out of his lips because that’s when his heart skips a beat for a completely different reason and it’s an ugly, unpleasant sensation. It comes with a simultaneous realization that his time’s just started running that’s confirmed when he rises slightly and sees his left arm glowing at him with a neon green in the darkness.
He turns to Yunho again, the other already sitting again and answering his unvoiced question.
‘It’s just... I thought it’d be… nice to have someone next to you when it happens?’ and Changmin can’t really see his features well in the darkness but he can imagine the embarrassed smile that’s making its way on Yunho’s face as he’s speaking.
And he gets it, right at this moment - feeling more than slightly abashed at his previous disappointment.
‘It was nice,’ he whispers back (he doesn’t know himself why Yunho is whispering, why he himself is), and is glad for the cover the night gives him. ‘It was.’
Yunho squeezes his hand again and really, that’s enough.
***
Changmin’s first shared time is with Yunho.
He gets all mad afterwards and deliberately doesn’t speak to the other man for several hours.
He knows it’s more than a bit ridiculous and that the person he’s hurting the most with his childish, unreasonable behaviour is basically himself.
Even though he and Yunho work at the assembly line in one factory making time storing devices, they don’t always get to have a chance to be put in the same hall or they end up being separated with all the metres and even more people. Today is one of the days when their work-places are actually right next to each other. They could have spent several hours together and get paid for it.
Yet, he can’t help feeling inexplicably angry. Hurt.
It’s true that he was running a bit low and he could’ve used some additional time but he’d be fine without it. That’s why he was here, in this factory, working his ass off.
But he took Yunho’s advice that it’s better not to risk too much and let the other pour some of his time into him.
He didn’t need that much. But before he even managed to voice out his protest, Yunho was already drawing back, with that trade-mark dumb soft-edged smile of his, and Changmin’s blood boiled and before he could stop himself, he was already rushing past him – somewhere, anywhere – not looking back even once.
***
Changmin gets close once.
He’s down with a high fever, tossing around on his narrow single bed in shallow but persistent slumber. He’s supposed to have gone to work. He’s been running low on time since yesterday, too. He needs that injection. Even the alarm couldn’t wake him up, he didn’t even hear it.
His mother’s been out for two days already, working her own shift in the factory.
He stays unconscious all morning, oblivious of the numbers trickling away, getting dangerously nearer and nearer to zero with every harsh breath he takes.
Yunho finds him this way – unaware, with only three last of his thirteen digits still flashing with the life-giving neon green.
He doesn’t panic, quickly taking Changmin’s hand where it clung to the worn-out blanket, and pressing it to his own arm, forcing his time through.
It’s not enough, not by a long shot. Yunho gathers the other’s limp form, arranges it with difficulty on his own back.
He barely makes it to the help centre and it’s only by miracle that there’s still some time to be given out left.
Changmin rouses only when it’s all over. He knows something has happened (how could he not – he’s still alive when by all means he shouldn’t be) but Yunho refuses to tell him anything besides ‘it’s fine already’. And even though Changmin can’t bear not to know, the look in Yunho’s eyes stops him from further probing. (The look has been directed at him far too many times already. Even now, Changmin’s still – too afraid–not ready for what it holds and how it can and will change his life – he knows that if he insisted now, there’d be no going back anymore.)
And Yunho. Yunho gets close all the time.
***
Too close.
He almost loses him a year later.
It happens so unnoticeably, so easily.
Yunho’s been sharing with lots of people. Changmin understands the urge and even though it gets worrying every now and then (as Yunho’s always had problems with comprehending the meaning of ‘limit’), he sees nothing wrong in it. It’s admirable and as long as he’s careful, why not.
(It’s not like he could tell Yunho to stop and the other would listen to him.)
It doesn’t happen because Yunho’s careless or because he doesn’t know better. He isn’t and he does.
It happens because sometimes, just sometimes, Yunho disregards it all and does things that are against all reasons.
They both have had their share of encounters with the local gang of time thieves, Minutemen, they both know their methods of working, their deception. That there’s helping people in need and then there’s just reckless risking.
Changmin’s more than aware of that and he knows that Yunho’s not oblivious to it either. It’s this knowledge lodged deeply in his gut.
And yet when he gets a bad hunch after him and Yunho separate after work, promising each other to meet later in the evening, he makes a sudden halt and changes the direction in which he’s been running.
Yunho lives only because this particular gangster likes to play with his prey and doesn’t drain him fully, preferring to amuse himself with the way the digits are slowly but inexorably nearing the moment when they all become the same and lose their bright hue.
Yunho lives because Changmin has a gun and a steady hand and skills honed by years of trying to survive in this world. Because what he doesn’t have at that particular moment is hesitation.
He aims not stopping in his tracks for longer than it’s absolutely required and then he’s already reaching two bodies sprawled on the ground and pressing his hand to the underarm of one of them, willing Yunho’s time to move, not to have stopped yet.
When the neon numbers begin rising, the relief that floods him is almost unendurable.
He doesn’t wait for Yunho to sit by himself, clutching his jacket and drawing him up by force.
‘You fool!’ he screams at him, his fingers digging into his shoulders, his nails probably leaving half-moon-shaped traces even through the clothes.
‘Do you know what it’d do to me—you stupid—,’ his voice breaks down, and he rubs angrily at his eyes, at the prickliness he feels forming there and then he’s engulfed in a tight hug, pressed close, so close that it almost hurts. But he’d rather it hurt this way, and then Yunho’s already whispering streak of apologies into his ear; apologies he doesn’t want to hear, he doesn’t want to ever have to hear in the future anymore - that he wouldn’t bear being deprived of the chance of hearing.
And then the tears actually start trickling down his cheeks, accompanied by hiccupping sobs and Yunho’s moving back and then there are hands cradling his face and the light press of lips on his own.
He pushes Yunho back and seeing his dumbfounded expression grumbles ‘Don’t think I’m this easy.’ And then they’re hugging again and laughing until their stomachs ache and only after they’ve calmed down and gone back home (Changmin’s this time, though, really, it’s not like it matters), the kissing resumes and is followed by more and then more still.
***
Yunho doesn’t stop sharing. He still does it when he’s been twenty-five years old for ten years and he doesn’t quit when it’s been twenty years either.
Neither do their occasional arguments about this end.
But Changmin always makes sure to share with Yunho so neither of them is ever running too low or if they are – they are together.
Maybe eternity isn’t meant for them – not with the poor district they live in, with prices rising all the time, with every day being a fight with time and most people they’re surrounded by being both their rivals in this survival game and just individuals sharing with them this strict, demanding reality, this harsh fate.
Maybe they aren’t meant to live forever. But Changmin doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t yearn for eternity and neither does Yunho. He’s fine with whatever they get, as long as it’s together.
The only thing he hopes for (as he’s finally learnt to let himself hope) is that he’ll never get older than Yunho and that when they finally leave – whether it’ll be their decision or something that’ll be imposed on them – it’ll be together too.
----
A/N: I'm never writing anything with plot again. XD
Comments and critique very appreciated ♥
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Date: 2012-10-16 08:38 pm (UTC)I get a Yunho hug! * A * /cherises for the rest of her life. But! I'm not telling > u < I'll make a deal with you instead, I'll comment on them. All it seems to require is that I stare at it for hours and then post it after 2AM :DD
We talked about world building with Hemi on the weekend, how "functional" dystopias, like the one in In Time, are so delicious = u = and how freaking hard world-building is = A = (but that's why we have movies and books to do it for us :D:)
and yes, Changmin the Superstar is always a plusNO. IT STILL DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN GO KILL THEM OFF HOWEVER YOU PLEASE. JUST THIS ONCE. WITH THIS CONCEPT. IN THIS STORY. I prefer the idjits very much alive, thank you ; A ;