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It's been ???? since Seungmin entered the Dream. It's been two months since the nightmare ended. And it's been 3 days since he received a text from a dead man.
Kwak Jiseok’s face stares up at him from the little message window on his screen. He’s smiling in the picture. Eyes wide, mouth open, hair messy and windswept. Every time Seungmin opens his phone and sees that damn picture his head hurts , and yet he can’t stop looking.
The last time Seungmin saw Jiseok, he’d been almost unrecognizable. The taint of the beastly scourge had rendered his form monstrous. Had replaced that open sunny smile with a maw of jagged teeth, smooth skin with wretched feathers and fur, his clever hands with tearing claws. Seungmin wouldn’t have known it was him, if he hadn’t been there for those last moments of transformation. He wishes he didn’t know. Of all the specters of his former companions that could’ve come back to haunt him, Jiseok is the worst by a long shot.
After all, he’s the only one Seungmin ever kissed. And the only one Seungmin had to put down.
Up until the message, he’d been doing a good job of pretending like the whole thing hadn’t happened. The whole nightmarish experience sat better when it could be explained away as a particularly gruesome and detailed hallucination. But then he’d opened his instagram and saw Kwak Jiseoks face staring up at him, unblemished and alive and human and-
Well.
He’d only known Jiseok in the Dream. Had, up until this point, thought him just another part of the delusion. Some awful figment of his imagination run wild, latent mental illness manifesting or whatever else you call going to sleep one night in your bed and waking up next to five strangers in a magical hellscape filled with monsters. Obviously, given that Jiseok is seemingly a real person, he was mistaken.
To say he’s not happy about it would be a fucking understatement.
The message is, on the surface, deceptively simple. Hi Seungmin, it’s Jiseok. We should talk.
He still hasn’t texted back. I mean, how do you even respond to something like that? Hi Jiseok, sorry for killing you! That shared hallucination/dream quest through an eldritch nightmare realm sure was weird. Glad to see you’re back to normal and not a feral ravenous beast anymore, wanna go for a coffee?
Yeah, no. Knowing Jiseok (if he can even say that he knows the other anymore) he’d likely take that in stride. But Seungmin still can’t bring himself to respond, because if he texts back that means that Jiseok is Real. And if Jiseok is real then so was the Dream and so is everyone else Seungmin had to watch die and so was the blood and the fighting and the nightmares that still don’t go away.
No. Much better to ignore it. He’s doing okay, pretending to be fine, like nothing’s changed irrevocably overnight. Sure, he’s taken to wearing combat boots and carrying a minimum of three knives on his person at all times. So what if he barricades his bedroom door every night and drinks copious energy drinks to stave away sleep. The sword beside his bed is purely there for decoration. Seungmin is fine and he is a functioning member of society who is not losing his mind. He just needs to turn up for his shifts at the bar and maybe give uni another try and call his parents more and put this all out of his mind. He should definitely uninstall instagram.
He doesn’t uninstall it. Instead, he brings home a bottle of soju and gets drunk on a random Tuesday night like a normal, mentally healthy person. His apartment is clinically neat as always, far too spacious and with too many windows for comfort. But the kitchen is tucked away in a corner and so Safer, so he hunkers down in there. There's some nondescript lofi on and empty takeout boxes and bottles littering the space in front of him and he’s on the floor leant up against the seam of two cabinets. It’s uncomfortable with the handles pressing into his back, but the pain is grounding. He needs grounding right now, because he’s considering something very stupid.
Kwak Jiseok smiles up at him from his phone screen and Seungmin needs to know. Ironic, when the thirst for knowledge was Jiseoks downfall in the first place, was what Seungmin assumes drove the other to dive deep into the mechanics and secrets of the Beast Curse, to find answers despite the risk. Seungmin takes another swig of the soju for luck, lets out a deep breath and presses the little call button up at the top of the app screen.
The phone rings once, twice. It’s 3ish in the morning, so he’s honestly not expecting the other to pick up.
Click “...Seungmin?” Jiseok asks, oh so gentle, like he’s coaxing a skittish horse. He sounds exactly the same, and all Seungmin can see is Jiseoks twisted face, warped beyond recognition by the curse. His sharp fangs stained with Seungmins blood, those wide eyes even wider, sunken into flesh marred by coarse fur and sparse feathers. Seungminnie? He’d whined as Seungmin drove his sword into Jiseoks heart, voice shot with betrayal, like he hadn’t left Jooyeon half dead in the next room, like he hadn’t forced his hand.
Seungmin hangs up. Cowardice is a new, unpleasant robe to wear around his shoulders, but it's preferable to… all of that. His chest is so tight he can barely breathe and his vision is swimming and this was such a colossally bad idea-
The phone vibrates in his hand as Jiseok calls him back. Seungmin drops it like it burns.
It falls still, and then vibrates again in shorter staccato bursts. Seungmin watches it as warily as he’d watch a live rattlesnake.
Jiseok
hey i’m so sorry if i scared you please pick up again
you don’t have to we can just text that’s okay too
Now is the time to block him. He just has to pick up the damn phone and press three buttons max and then this will all go away. That would be the smart, rational, normal thing to do. But he’s already opened Pandora's box. Seungmin has never been good at leaving well enough alone, as evidenced by fucking everything he did during the Dream. Hand him a shovel and he’ll just start digging until he hits rock. So Seungmin picks up his phone again in shaking hands and starts tapping out a reply. Jiseok’s already sent him more texts, the little ‘still typing’ bubble staying constant on the screen.
Jiseok
this is probably just easier to explain over the phone
seungmin?
please
Seungmin
Are the others real too?
The little bubble disappears, and then appears again for all of a second before the chat updates. Jiseok’s a fast typer, which doesn’t surprise him at all.
Jiseok
yeah i’ve found most of them already
Gunil’s in the States Jungsu’s down in Ulsan Jooyeons over in Australia right now with his cousin the producer
still trying to track down Hyeongjun but can’t think of a reason he’d be different
can we do this over call please i want to hear your voice
Seungmin grinds his hands into his face and resists the urge to scream into them. Barely. Oh, this was such a bad idea and he’s about to make it so much worse.
Seungmin
You’re in Gyeonggi-do right? Same as me
Jiseok
yeah
why?
Seungmin
How quick can you get to me
Very quickly, it turns out. He gives Jiseok the address of a nearby park rather than his apartment, because he’s not that stupid. It’s utterly deserted this time of night, even the few birds and animals around falling silent and still. Before, Seungmin would have been wary of such a place. Now he stalks with ease down winding paths between the trees. There’s nothing for him to fear here, not when he’s undoubtedly the most dangerous thing out prowling tonight.
His sword is too obvious, so he begrudgingly leaves it behind, opting instead for the longest and sharpest of his knives tucked securely under a long coat. The soju has burnt out of his system and been replaced by adrenaline, leaving him jittery and anxious. But it’s too late to back out now. The shovel is firmly in the ground. Nothing left to do but dig deeper.
His destination is a rotunda tucked away in a secluded corner on the far side of the park. Octagonal, with four sides open and the rest enclosed by sturdy wood, it’s the perfect defensible location with plenty of escape routes. The shadows are deep and boundless under the slatted wood roof, and Seungmin sinks into them to wait. His hand itches to his belt, to the place his lantern would dangle, the night dredging up old habits that he’d worked hard to shake off. He brings it to one of his knives instead, turning the grip deftly in his fingers. The way he instantly soothes the moment his hand is on a weapon had been alarming to realize at first. Now, it’s just another thing to shove down into the recesses of his brain and not think about.
A half hour passes in increasing panic. It’s only as he’s about to swear off this whole thing and retreat home that there’s any sign of approach.
The Jiseok he’d known in the Dream was light on his feet to an almost annoying degree. Seungmin couldn’t count how many times he’d turned around to find Jiseok right there behind him, and how many times he’d almost taken the others head off in his shock. So he knows it’s deliberate when he hears the crunch of leaves under heavy footfalls, the sharp exhales of breath and sees the bobbing light of an electric lantern.
Seungmin sets his back against the rotunda wall to the side of the entrance, heart thudding in his chest and knife clenched tightly in a backwards grip. The gentle torchlight seeps forward into the space, stopping short as its bearer halts at the threshold.
“Seungmin? You there?”
Jiseok was also, once upon a time, the fastest of their little group. In the few times they’d had to beat a retreat he was always at the head of the pack, his steps deft and sure. But Jiseok was felled long enough before the end, and in his absence Seungmin had been honed into little more than a weapon. So when he finally springs into action, grasping for Jiseok and spinning him up against the wall, he beats the other to his weapons. One hand goes for Jiseoks dominant wrist, the hand not holding the lantern, pinning it up in sight away from any concealed blades. He uses his superior height and muscle mass to crowd the other up close, even as Jiseok struggles and thrashes to get free. But then Seungmins knife is sharp against Jiseoks throat, and all at once there is stillness.
In the struggle he’d dropped the lantern, and in the light springing up from their feet Seungmin can finally see him clearly. He looks just as Seungmin remembers. Messy blonde hair with dark roots, bags under his wide eyes, plush lips chapped and bitten. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie, a far cry from the dark leathers and looted armor they’d worn in the Dream. It makes him look even smaller, harmless. He remembers thinking that too, on the very first day. They’d barely fended off two monsters, still panicking and confused, and he’d looked over at a blood-soaked Jiseok and thought He’s so cute. If I don’t protect him he’s going to get ripped apart.
More fool him. In the end, it was Jiseok that he’d needed to protect the others from.
His grip, which had fallen a touch slack, tightens on the knife again, pressing it firmer into Jiseoks neck. He hasn’t turned yet, he’s still human, still alive and warm under Seungmins bruising touch. He’d expected the other to transform into the monster he remembers. The knife bites into soft flesh and Seungmin watches as a bead of blood wells up against the steel. Jiseok hisses under him, chest heaving but otherwise unmoving. His eyes are locked on Seungmins, and they’re filled with fear and relief in equal parts. The relief is what stops Seungmin short, what stays his hand. Even with a weapon at his throat and his life in Seungmin’s hands, Jiseok looks so fucking happy to see him.
“It’s you” Jiseok breathes. Seungmin can’t help but shudder at the emotion his voice carries, nameless and powerful and akin to what’s swirling through his own head. “Seungmin, can you stop-”
“Prove it” Seungmin snarls, half-caught in the past “Prove that it’s really you, that-that you’re not still-fuck!” It’s hard work, to blink back the tears welling up, to push back the tide of grief that threatens to overwhelm him. He needs confirmation, he needs to know that this is the same Jiseok he poured out his heart to, that he fought for, bled for, would have died to save. His trust in his own perception has been thoroughly shattered. Jiseok seems to recognise this, as his expression turns softer and he stills beneath Seungmin.
Carefully and deliberately, going slow enough that Seungmin can track his every move, Jiseok brings his free hand up to the knife. Seungmin presses it deeper in warning, but Jiseok barely flinches. His gaze is firm and unblinking, as he gently wraps his hand around Seungmins on the grip.
“Wrong place” He whispers, voice low and wry like he’s sharing an in-joke just for the two of them. His hand presses gently on the hilt, not away but down and Seungmin realizes all at once what he means. Struck dumb, he lets it happen, lets Jiseok guide the blade down away from his neck to rest just over his heart. “Here. It was here”
Seungmin knows. He sees it in his nightmares every night, when he finally succumbs to unconsciousness. Can still feel the phantom press of his blade through flesh, can hear the jagged gasp of pain, the wetness of ichor coating him, coating them, seeping into everything and turning it all red. He’s sure he still had some of Jiseoks blood crusted on him, in the moment he’d landed that final fateful blow on the Heart of the Dream. The first morning after waking up back in his bed, he’d scrubbed every inch of his body pink and raw in an effort to remove the awful weight of it. It hadn’t worked then. He certainly still feels it now, blade poised yet again over Jiseoks heart. But this time Jiseok isn’t thrashing and screaming, isn’t some mindless feral perversion of the man Seungmin had known and fought beside and loved. He’s human. He’s alive. He’s real.
Seungmin drops the knife. As the weight of it all crashes down upon him, his knees buckle and he goes down hard and Jiseok goes down with him, clutching Seungmin to his chest so tight it hurts. He’s crying, they’re both crying, insensate.
“Fuck you, why’d you do it? You-you were.. Jiseok '' Seungmin gasps, too affected to form his swirling thoughts into anything resembling a sentence. Jiseok is in the same boat. He’s got his head buried in the junction of Seungmins shoulder and neck, and is whispering something that he can’t quite catch. He pulls away just enough to look at Jiseoks puffy, tear streaked face and realizes with a bone deep ache that Jiseok is apologizing. He’s saying sorry over and over, a prayer, a litany of absolution. He seeks what he’s already been given. Forgiveness is easy, when he’s here in Seungmins arms, alive and warm and safe. He’s okay. They’re okay.
They sit there, wrapped up in each other and the relief of it all, for long enough that Seungmins legs begin to go numb. The well of tears runs dry, and the discomfort begins to outweigh his desire to stay where they are, so Seungmin begrudgingly extricates himself and tries to rub feeling back into his limbs. Jiseok wipes at his face, still sniffling. There’s so much more he wants to know, needs to know. Now that Jiseok is here he’s loath to let the other out of his sight.
“I- do you want to come back to mine?” Seungmin asks, clearing his throat. His voice is still shaky and stuffy, and he’s trying not to second guess himself immediately. Luckily, Jiseok readily agrees, nodding eagerly. He retrieves his lantern and Seungmin picks his slightly bloody knife up off the floor, wincing at his own actions. The cut on Jiseoks neck has already closed up, a tiny scratch compared to the gruesome wounds they’ve received before, that they’d dealt to each other. It still fills his stomach with a churning unease.
Wordlessly, they walk back through the quiet park in lockstep. An unspoken truce has fallen, to leave the words they need to say unsaid until they’re somewhere safer, more private. Jiseok keeps sneaking glances at him when he thinks Seungmin isn’t looking, and Seungmin would be lying if he said he wasn’t doing the same. But he’s become practiced at ignoring intrusive thoughts, so he lets his mind go purposefully blank as he leads them out into the quiet streets and back to his, trying his best not to think.
Seungmin lets them both into his apartment, fumbling with the keys, all too aware of the presence at his back. Jiseok whistles as he walks in and toes off his shoes, looking around with wide eyes and a teasing smile as Seungmin hangs his coat and daggers by the door.
“Nice place”
Seungmin shrugs, suddenly bashful, remembering Jiseok telling him what feels like forever ago that he hadn’t grown up well off.
“My parents are helping me with it, I wouldn’t be able to afford it on bartender's wages otherwise.” He replies. Jiseok just smiles at him, open and affectionate.
“I know. I remember you saying so”
It’s another punch in his gut, and Seungmin sucks in a long, uneasy breath. The Dream is frighteningly clear in his mind, no matter how hard he has tried to forget, but given how Jiseok had.. met his end, Seungmin had assumed that his recollection might’ve been hazier.
Flustered, he reverts back to baser instincts and leads them both into the most defensible place in the house. Jiseok follows without another word, closing the door behind him and hopping up onto the end of the bed. That’s when Seungmins brain kicks back into gear, when he realizes that he’s led them to his bedroom. Jiseok is in his bedroom. Seungmin backs up against the door, trying to remember to breathe and not panic as Jiseok takes in the space. It feels shockingly intimate, letting Jiseok see the sword hanging in easy reach beside the bed, the energy drink cans filling his trash, the groove marks on the floor from moving his dresser as a barricade every night. Like he’s cut open his skull and let Jiseok peer directly into his fucked up brain. But the other doesn’t look put off. In fact, he’s staring up at Seungmin with that same fond smile that takes his breath away even more, waiting patiently for him.
Jiseok pats the bed beside him, trying to coax Seungmin closer. In the soft yellow glow of lamplight he looks borderline angelic. Beautiful. Slowly, Seungmin detaches from the door and sits on the bed. Jiseok turns to sit cross legged facing him, almost touching but not quite, and Seungmin brings one leg up to rest his folded arms and his chin on top. It reminds him so much of sparse moments of peace around a fire, or the few hanging lanterns that seemed to signal safety. Their sense of time was all muddled there, the sky remaining a hazy twilight despite the hours passing, so they took turns sleeping fitfully when and where they could in those tiny pockets of calm.
“What do you remember?” He can’t help but ask, wondering if Jiseok is thinking of those same moments too. Jiseok wrinkles his nose, fiddling with his own hands in his lap.
“All of it. I mean, up till..” He doesn’t need to say it aloud. They both know what he means in that small, painful pause. “Afterwards, it’s fuzzy.”
Seungmin frowns, confused. “You remember stuff from… after?”
Jiseok nods.
“I know you were there until the end, so it makes sense you wouldn’t know. But it’s not like it all went black. I was still kind of there. Not like, as myself or as a ghost, but it was like I’d become part of the world. I was kind of above it, or in it? Ah, it’s hard to explain in words.” Jiseok trails off, clearly frustrated. “The others were the same, too. We-we know vaguely what happened after we were gone”
Seungmin can’t say he really understands. But there’s a lot he still doesn’t get, things that he saw in the Dream that’d hurt his brain trying to figure out, places that defied logic. The idea that a part of Jiseok remained aware after death in that world isn’t too far of a stretch. But the mention of the others perks him up. He hasn’t allowed himself to think much of them, but now that he knows that they’re real? He misses them all at once, as fiercely as missing a phantom limb. Longs for Hyeongjuns quiet solidarity, Jungsus caring hands patching them up, Jooyeons bright smile despite it all, Gunils bad jokes and attempts at pep talks. He would’ve succumbed to madness far sooner had they not been right beside him.
“Have you talked to them much?”
Jiseok brightens at that too, excited.
“Yeah! We’ve got a groupchat and everything, and we try video call when we can. Jungsu-hyung is planning on coming up here soon but he’s really busy with work. Gunil-hyung almost jumped on a plane as soon as we got into contact, but we convinced him to wait till we knew where you and Hyeongjun were. We’re trying to get Jooyeon back up here too, but he’s safe with his cousin for right now.”
Seungmin can’t help but snort at the image of Gunil having to be talked down from booking flights. He can picture it now, the older frantic and stubborn and Jungsu yelling down the line for him to chill out. It’s a much better image than the last he saw of him. Of Gunil steely and resigned, staying behind to deal with the monsters pursuing them, giving him and Jungsu a chance at reaching the Heart. He was always protective to a fault. Seungmin should’ve protested then, like Jungsu had, but after Jiseok he’d gone cold. All he’d given Gunil was a paltry nod as he dragged Jungsu away and left their leader to his inevitable fate. Regret sits heavy in his gut now, tempered only slightly by the knowledge that the other is still alive and safe in the now.
“Why is Jooyeon in Australia? I thought he lived over here too?” Seungmin asks, half genuinely curious and half trying to fight away his thoughts. They’ll be here all night if he starts stewing in regrets now. But Jiseok frowns at his query, expression pained and a little awkward, and worry curls in his gut anew.
“Ah. He, uh.” Jiseok takes a deep breath, hands fisting in the bed sheet between them anxiously. “After he woke up in the real world, he… Well, he freaked out. Told his parents everything, insisted that it’d really happened and he had to find us, and they freaked out too thinking that he was losing his mind. Which, y’know, understandable, I’d probably be weirded out too if my kid started ranting about spending months in a dream filled with monsters and dying in it, hah! So, they were gonna-he was going to be institutionalized”
Seungmin sits up ramrod straight, alarmed, mind racing with panic. Jiseok seems to have been expecting his reaction, putting a calming hand on his thigh. It succeeds in stilling him, if only because his brain utterly shuts down at Jiseoks touch.
“It’s okay” He continues, voice light but with the undercurrent of worry still there “Chan-hyung offered for Jooyeon to come stay with him for a bit instead, change of scenery, and they agreed. He’s been really good honestly. Jooyeon told him about it too, and he didn’t really believe him at first, but I think he’s coming around to it? The google doc was pretty convincing” Jiseok laughs at himself, and Seungmin can’t help but laugh along.
“The Google Doc? Do I want to know?”
Jiseok grins up at him. His hand is still on Seungmin's thigh, a fact he’s incredibly aware of.
“Yeah, that was Gunil-hyungs’s idea. We’ve noted down everything we can remember individually and then combined them to see if there were any differences. We figured if there were a lot of differences, it was probably just some incredibly weird shared mental breakdown or something. But, there weren’t any. All of our memories are exactly the same, apart from the times when we were by ourselves obviously. It’s not as good as physical, tangible proof, but it’s something! I would show you it, but y’know, that’d ruin the point for when you write your stuff” Jiseok finishes, practically bouncing in place. Seungmin doesn’t think he breathed once during the explanation.
He looks unfairly good like this. Excited. Happy, even. They’d shared some small moments of peace together in the Dream, but it was always tinged with the knowledge of where they were and the horrors that awaited them just around the next bend. Seungmin’s finding a distinct difference in seeking solace together then, and enjoying Jiseoks company in the now. He much prefers the now.
The thought of recalling and recording down all of his experiences is considerably less fun to think about. Back then, he’d been so laser focused on survival at all costs. And after Jiseok’s death, he’d gone numb, blocked out everything but the mission to get to the Heart in an attempt to stay sane. He’s not sure it worked, and he’s even more sure of his failures. The way he’d acted, the things he did… He wouldn’t be surprised if the others never wanted to see him again, and the thought of that hurts.
Suddenly anxious, he pulls away from Jiseoks touch, dragging his legs up to his chest and threading his arms around them, trying to make himself as physically small as he feels. His face burns under Jiseoks gaze, as the other grows steadily more concerned.
“You okay?” Jiseok asks, soft and caring and everything that Seungmin doesn’t deserve right now. “What’s wrong?”
“You know” He mutters, the words sticking, refusing to come out. Jiseoks frown deepens.
“No, I don’t? Seungmin-”
“You saw everything after I killed you” Seungmin cuts him off, the words harsh and cold and scraping the inside of his throat. “You know what I did. I wasn’t fast enough, when Hyeongjun got attacked on watch. I let Jooyeon stay behind, convinced the others he’d slow us down with his injuries. I knew that Gunil would die if we left him at the doors alone and I still did it! I didn’t cover Jungsu during the last battle, I let him go ahead and take the hits and he was reaching out for me and I- I didn’t-” The words don’t stop, the confession flowing out of him unabated, trying to hammer the point into Jiseok, to push him away.
But the other doesn’t run, doesn’t judge him as unworthy as Seungmin feels. Instead, Jiseok sits up on his knees and cups his hands around Seungmins face, gentle, so gentle it burns. The words stop all at once, and he’s helpless to do anything but stare up at Jiseoks determined face and be held by him.
“You saved us” Jiseok speaks with all the conviction in the world, grasping him tighter when Seungmin goes to protest. “No, you did. If you hadn’t…If you hadn’t killed me, I would’ve hurt them even worse. And if you hadn’t gotten to the Heart and dealt with it, we would’ve all died for real. I know it and the others know it too. You saved us.”
Seungmin trembles in Jiseok’s hands and he knows that if the other lets go he will shake apart.
“How do you know?” He chokes out. Jiseok presses his forehead to Seungmins, like he’s trying to physically push the anxious thoughts out of his brain.
“I just do. Trust me” Jiseok commands and Seungmin obeys. He does trust Jiseok, despite it all, despite everything they did for each other and to each other. He may not bear the scars physically but he knows that Jiseok is burned and scored upon his very soul. So it’s the easiest thing in the world to reach up and pull Jiseok down to meet him.
Jiseok sinks easily into the kiss, threading his arms around Seungmins neck and drawing them both closer. His lips are just as plush as Seungmin remembers, his gentle sighs just as thrilling. When he crawls into Seungmins lap he fits perfectly, slotting together like they were made for each other.
They’d kissed and done more besides in the Dream. Seungmin treasures those little moments, stolen and secret, but he’d assumed they were just two people finding some small comfort in each other in the face of annihilation. Hadn’t dared dream for meaning or for more. Back then they were frantic, hands on weapons, clothes still on, quick and dirty and mindless in what semblance of privacy they could find. Kissing Jiseok now is completely different. He has the luxury of safety and time to savor it, to kiss languid and slow, to run his hands over Jiseoks small waist and through his shiny hair, to figure out exactly how to draw the little sounds of pleasure out of him.
For his part Jiseok seems determined to crawl straight into Seungmins ribcage, eager and purposeful and pressing ever closer. He pulls away for all of a second, not long enough for Seungmin to protest before he’s pressing kisses down the side of his neck. Seungmin can’t hold back the broken sound that wrings out of him, and Jiseok attacks him with even more fervor, giggling as he mouths at Seungmins pulse point. Seungmin feels like he’s drowning in affection. He wants to stay like this forever. He wants to flip them over and press Jiseok into the mattress, fuck him slow and hard enough to leave bruises.
Instead, he brings one hand up over Jiseoks heart. Even through the thick hoodie he can feel the faint thump of it, as he presses his hand firmly against Jiseoks chest and tries to commit the sensation to memory, to overwrite all else besides it. Jiseok stills against him. As slow and gentle as he’d moved the knife before, he travels down the plane of Seungmins neck to the meat of his shoulder, pulling aside the material of his shirt to press a searing kiss upon the unblemished skin there. It hadn't been unblemished in the Dream. Jiseok, the feral one, had taken a solid chunk out of him there in their skirmish, had sunk fangs deep and torn away flesh and muscle. If it hadn’t have been for the seemingly magical healing items they’d scavenged, and Jungsu’s real world expertise as an EMT, Seungmin probably would have bled out from it. He’d favored his other arm afterwards, the mess of scar tissue remaining despite the healing.
Now, breath shaking in his chest, he lets Jiseok kiss the skin there. Fists his other hand in the back of his hoodie and pulls him closer, rather than pushing him away. Jiseok pauses, breath ghosting over Seungmins skin, waiting for permission. Seungmin gives it easily, eagerly, humming assent. When Jiseoks human teeth find purchase in his flesh it feels like an apology and a revelation and a reclamation all at once. He doesn’t bite hard enough to break the skin, and Seungmin is hazily glad of his care, though he can honestly think that wouldn’t have minded if he had. It’s enough to leave a mark, which is what matters.
Seungmin does flip them then, turning to pull Jiseok down to the bed, to leave him splayed out underneath him and return the favor of pressing kisses up and down the unmarred bits of his neck. Jiseok giggles again, delighted, and Seungmin knows all at once that he will do anything to hear the sound of it again.
“Wait-” Jiseok pants and Seungmin pulls back instantly, alarmed that he’s gone too far. But Jiseok doesn’t look upset, he looks hungry and eager as he begins to tug at Seungmins shirt. “Too many clothes. Off, please” Seungmin wholeheartedly concurs.
Luckily, the problem has an easy solution. He leans back on his haunches to shuck the offending layers, unable to take his eyes off of Jiseok for more than is necessary. Beneath him Jiseok squirms out of his hoodie and the shirt underneath, unwilling to sit up or move away to make removing his clothes any easier. It’s so cute Seungmin might just keel over right here. Jiseok notices the staring and sticks his tongue out. Seungmin lets himself suddenly drop down, catching himself on his hands close enough to capture Jiseoks tongue in his own mouth, as the other shrieks with shock and mirth. Jiseok slaps at Seungmins bare chest, just hard enough to get his point across and he pulls away with another quick stolen kiss.
“Do you want me naked or not?” Jiseok teases.
“ Yes. You have no idea how much I want” He’s painfully earnest, too full of desire and need to joke back. But in the slight pause of activity, he finds himself begrudgingly having to be sensible. It’s been an emotional day to say the least, and the last thing he wants is to dive in too deep and scare Jiseok off. “I-how far do you want to go? I’m good with however much you want to do, whatever you want”
Jiseok props himself up on his elbows, staring up at Seungmin with an expression that is at once impossibly fond and equally exasperated.
“Oh Seungmin, if you don’t fuck me right now after all that, I think I’m going to explode” Jiseok speaks in a tone that is deadly serious and brooks no argument. Seungmin snorts, covering his mouth with his hand. Jiseok really is going to be the death of him, and he can’t bring himself to mind.
“Okay, okay. Point taken” He soothes, stealing another searing kiss before pulling away to properly remove the rest of his clothes. He’s loath to turn away, but he has to in order to retrieve the lube and condoms secreted at the back of his bedside drawers, left from when he still brought home the occasional hookup before. It’s worth it to be able to turn back and take in the sight of Jiseok, naked and eager and heart-stoppingly beautiful, sitting up in the mess of Seungmins bedsheets. And then Jiseok spots the condoms in his hand, and he pouts.
“Do we need those? I’m clean, and… I want to feel you properly”
Yeah, Jiseoks going to kill him. He guesses it’s only fair, eye for an eye. Seungmin throws the condoms without a second thought, kneeling on the bed and dragging Jiseok in by the scruff of his neck to kiss him senseless again. The lube he absently places within easy reach, and then devotes himself to mapping all the places of Jiseok he hadn’t been able to explore before. Jiseok falls backwards on the bed, sighing and moaning and giggling as Seungmin presses kisses and sucks bruises into the flesh of his stomach, his ribs, his thighs. Jiseoks length is longer than his own, though less thick, and he feels perfect when Seungmin takes him in his mouth and swallows him down to the root. Jiseok moans and thrashes, clutching at Seungmins hair. It’s incredibly hot, feeling how responsive he is.
“Seungminnie please, ah…” Jiseok groans, pulling Seungmin up off of his cock. He doesn’t go far, mouthing and licking at the tip.
“Please what?” He teases, feeling evil as Jiseok whines. Jiseok pushes up onto an elbow again and stares down at Seungmin, lips bitten and pupils blown wide.
“If you keep doing that I’m going to cum way too fast” Jiseok protests, still pulling on Seungmins hair. The tinge of pain feels nice enough that he’s tempted to keep going anyway, to try wring more than one orgasm out of Jiseok. But he relents, moving down to gently bite at Jiseoks inner thighs instead, and then up his body again as he grasps for the lube.
Jiseok opens beautifully around his fingers, and Seungmin kisses him through the discomfort as he adds another, gentle and careful in the stretch.
“You’re doing so good, Jiseokie” He murmurs into the others ear, and feels a rush of satisfaction when Jiseok throws his head back and clenches around his fingers. The expanse of skin available is too tempting, so he sucks a thick bruise into Jiseoks neck as he adds a third finger to the mix, delighting in the varied pants and whines and pleas for more.
His own cock has been neglected this whole time, though he’s still achingly hard and leaking when Jiseoks hand goes to slick him up with lube. His thin fingers feel devastatingly good, and Seungmin knows he isn’t going to last as long as he’d like, but he’s determined to give all he’s got in service of making Jiseok feel good. It’s out of pure desire, not repentance, that he wants to give Jiseok pleasure. The thought still enters his mind regardless, that it’s what Jiseok deserves after the pain Seungmin has caused him.
All such musings leave his head entirely when he enters Jiseok, lost to the sensation of warm, silky walls enveloping him, consuming him. Jiseok wraps his arms around Seungmins neck and moans loudly right in his ear. He’s perfect.
“Good?” Seungmin pants, forehead resting against Jiseoks, halfway in, taking it slow. In response, Jiseok hooks his feet up to the small of Seungmins back and presses him down himself. He slides in with a groan, pressed flush against Jiseok, overcome with sensation and emotion. Jiseok grins up at him, beautiful and adoring and just the right touch of feral.
“You’re a menace” Seungmin accuses, and Jiseoks grin just gets wider.
“ Your menace” He bats back. Says it like he means it, like that doesn’t just unravel Seungmin more, like he hasn’t reached into Seungmins chest and clutched his heart. He pays him back the only way he can, by pulling out and driving back in nice and firm. Jiseoks eyes roll back just a little, as Seungmin sets a steady pace of thrusts. And when he hikes Jiseoks legs up and finds the spot that makes him howl, he drills into it again and again with no respite.
When Jiseok starts to shudder apart, he takes him in his hand again and jerks him to match the thrusts. And when Jiseok spills over his hand with a low whine, and Seungmin goes to pull out, Jiseok pulls him back down again.
“Wanna feel it inside” He demands, out of breath and flushed, and Seungmin is in no hurry to deny him anything.
It doesn’t take long before he’s burying himself deep inside and letting himself let go. Jiseok clutches him tight and keeps him there, strokes his hair and kisses his face and presses sweet nothings into his skin through the end of it.
After, when they’re sated and cleaned off, Jiseok snuggles into his chest. Seungmin can see the sun rising behind the closed blinds, the room still dark enough for comfort and bathed in the soft warm glow intermingling with lamplight.
“Sleep” He urges, pressing a kiss into Jiseoks hair, just because he can. “I’ll take first watch”
Seungmin should feel disquieted by the former monster in his bed, the one who’d tried to kill him and failed only because Seungmin had been faster. He should want to stave off sleep and barricade his door and clutch a dagger to his chest like always. Instead, as Jiseok begins to softly snore in his arms, he feels happy. Peaceful. Truly at ease for the first time in months.
There’s so much left to do, to say, to apologize for. He has to talk to the others and they have to find Hyeongjun and bring them all back together again. But now, they have time. They have each other. Of all the specters that could’ve come back to haunt him, Jiseok is the best. He’s the best because he’s Seungmins, and Seungmin is his.
When he does finally fall asleep, he doesn’t dream. And when he wakes, it’s to Jiseok warm and alive and human in his arms.