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riizegasm · 7 months ago

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We Fall, We Fail || H.SH and P.WB

❀ pairing: Park Wonbin x fem!oc x Hong Seunghan, cameos from zb1 members

❀ genre: apocalypse!au, angst, slice of life, minor fluff

❀ word count: ~7.6k

❀ warnings: explicit language, suggestive scenes, minor character death, difficult conversations around grief, mild gore (description of major injury), reference to fear of SA, open/ambiguous ending, poly!hanibani

❀ summary: In the new world, trust is hard to come by. As the past eclipses the future, it becomes harder and harder to move on. To let go is to fall, and to fall is to fail.

❀ A/N: Welcome to part 2 of the first work on my new blog! I've been sitting on this part for a couple of months, so it is truly my baby. As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are always welcome. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 || masterlist

It’s nine versus eight. Joohyun knows that they are outnumbered, and the sheer size of some of the other men warrants being counted as more than one person. She sighs as she peers up at a man with a baby face who is overly tall and has muscles that bulge through his tight black shirt. Even though their leader assured them that they came in peace, Joohyun knows that it wouldn’t be difficult for them to choose violence.

“So you want us to believe that you came here just so you wouldn’t be lonely when the first snow hits?” Shotaro sounds incredulous, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

A man with inky black hair rolls his eyes, crossing his arms to mirror Shotaro’s stance. “That’s not really what we said. The more we’ve seen of the farm, the more impressive it is. We could help you and you guys could help us. We’d be building a community.”

“And who said we need any of your help?” Seunghan spits.

Sungchan cocks his shotgun in lieu of speaking, stepping closer to the group of nine standing below the porch. Joohyun knows how scary he must look, having put on a good amount of muscle in the past few weeks. Even though he would never shoot the men in front of them, the threat is enough to have the group taking tentative steps back.

“Your story isn’t adding up, so I suggest you start saying shit that makes sense before we have to kill all of you.”

Sungchan’s threat is an empty one, but his tone is icy enough to be believable. It forces the group into silence for a moment, before the shortest of the bunch steps forward.

“A few members of our group were recently killed,” the man states softly.

Someone hisses out his name in warning. Matthew, Joohyun catalogs in her mind. By the way Shotaros shoulders sag, she assumes that she may as well begin to become acquainted with the men.

“I mean, they killed my girlfriend, Yujin’s sister, and our friend Miyoung, all of the women in our group. They then forced us out of our shelter and we’ve been wandering ever since. We came across your farm and the houses up the street and fuck, we just thought it would be worth a shot.”

Matthew sniffles after he relays the information, tightening his hold on the straps of the camping bag he totes on his back. The other men have all cast their gazes elsewhere, some seemingly holding back tears of their own. Joohyun wonders if this is their first time admitting what happened to them out loud.

A firm hand curls around Joohyun’s waist, a familiar silouhette making its presence known behind her. Wonbin’s fingers curl into the tight fabric of her tank top, cold from the late fall chill. Joohyun can feel his deep inhale before he speaks.

“We know what it’s like to lose people,” he begins, clearing his throat when his voice starts off hoarse. “But we simply can’t accommodate more people here.”

A man instantly protests, a pink blush poised high on his cheekbones. “That’s not what we meant. There’s an abandoned house just up the road that we’re hoping to live in. We just wanted to be in contact before the first snow hits, you know, like good neighbors.”

“Neighbors?” Anton questions, cocking his head cutely.

“Forget it, Hanbin. I knew this was a waste of time,” the tallest of the group mutters.

“Wait!” Shotaro calls just as the group moved to retreat. “We can be neighborly. Why don’t you guys come by around lunch tomorrow so we can talk more?”

“Taro,” Sungchan warns.

Shotaro doesn’t pay the man any mind. “I mean it. Come by and we can see what we can do for each other.”

. . .

Two years and nine months prior

It feels like little more than a rumbling underneath Joohyun’s feet. The building is shaking just enough that spare belongings clatter to the floor. Some of the monitors instantly fade to black as the lights flicker twice before they go out completely. The sunlight streaming in from the window is the only thing illuminating the five faces in the room.

“What the hell was that?” Wonbin questions, grip tight around the neck of his guitar.

Jaeri looks around nervously. “I don’t know but I really don’t—,”

Her sentence is cut off by the shrill sound of an alarm, then the overcom comes to life with a buzz of static. Never had Joohyun been so happy to have yearbook in such an old building.

Attention all Fairden University students, faculty, and staff! This is not a drill. Due to nearby bombings, we are currently required to shelter in place. You are not permitted to leave the building or travel between floors under any circumstances. I repeat, this is not a drill. Please do not leave your current floor. Thank you.

Tears are spilling over Joohyun’s cheeks before she can fully process the message. Across from her, Wonbin isn’t faring much better. Tears glisten in the corner of his wide eyes, making them sparkle in the quickly disappearing sunlight.

For months there had been speculations of war. News reports would go on and on about rising political tensions across the world and warn civilians of the possible consequences. Any time Joohyun got on the phone with her family, they warned her to be careful in college, knowing just how perilous the world could soon be. She guesses their speculations were correct.

“Holy shit,” Anton breathes out. “Look at that smoke cloud.”

A thick plume of brownish-gray smoke is quickly taking over the sky. In the distance, a few birds scatter, fleeing before they could be absorbed by the cloud. Joohyun envies them.

Jaeri quickly grabs Anton’s arm and pulls him backwards. “Stay away from the windows! We don’t know what kind of bomb it was.”

There’s a brief pause before the building shakes again, smoke completely blocking any external light. It seems stronger, so much so that there’s the vague sound of a window shattering somewhere. The overcom whirs to life again.

Attention all Fairden University students, faculty, and staff! This is not a drill. Due to the localization of the bombings, we believe medical centers and hospitals are being targeted. Fairden University Hospital has just been hit. Please continue to shelter in place. I repeat, this is not a drill. Please continue to shelter in place.

Dread ices over the blood in Joohyun’s veins, tears immediately coming to a stop. It seems that Wonbin has come to the same realization, tears coming as full on sobs now.

“Seunghan.”

Joohyun’s voice is a mere whisper in the darkness, but she hopes that it serves as a prayer to be answered.

. . .

Eunseok does his best to prepare some roasted vegetables and seared meat before their guests arrive. They’re limited on quantity, so portions must be rationed, but Eunseok still tries to give the meal all he’s got. It’s evident in the way that he flits around the kitchen and scurries into the pantry that he’s on a mission.

Joohyun can’t help but smile from her position by the wall, content to watch as the meal comes together. It��s only when a figure blocks her view and a warm pair of lips are pressed to her forehead that she snaps out of it. Her vision is blurry from the person’s proximity, but the woodsy smell is enough for Joohyun to immediately identify her boyfriend.

“How are you feeling?” Joohyun questions softly, peering down to examine Seunghan’s ankle. “You look a little swollen.”

The man sighs, placing another wet kiss to her forehead. “It’s fine, princess. You know you don’t have to worry about me.”

Seunghan is simultaneously the least and the most pressing of Joohyun’s worries. Despite the fact that he’s as healed as he’ll ever be, he can’t quite walk without a limp or run at all. In this world, speed and agility are everything, and Seunghan has neither. Joohyun knows that with newcomers on the way, a quick escape is far from likely. She just hopes it won’t cost them their lives.

“I can see you worrying,” Seunghan coos. “Trust me, the meat from that deer that Sungchan caught yesterday will heal me.”

“You said that about the last deer two weeks ago,” Eunseok mutters, standing over the little fire pit on the old stovetop.

“And look at me! Soon I’ll be sprinting around the house.”

Joohyun can’t find it within herself to chuckle along with the boys, eyes flitting down to the permanent swell of Seunghan’s ankle. As much as he has always been one to joke through the pain, Joohyun knows he’s still hurting. Sometimes she hears his mumbled curses and stuttered groans after standing too long. She and Wonbin take turns to massage the injury, hoping to rub the pain away. Instead, it lingers like a stale taste in the mouth.

A light rap of knuckles against the back porch door seems to spring Seunghan into action. Before Joohyun can protest, or even encourage him to grab a weapon, he’s swinging the door open.

The nine figures slowly stream into the kitchen, a few greetings mumbled between them. It isn’t until Shotaro enters the room that anyone seems emboldened enough to really speak. There’s a flurry of repeated introductions and a few pleasantries after Shotaro thanks them for coming. However, the chatter is instantly silenced when Sungchan enters the kitchen, shotgun in hand.

“Uhhh, should we have brought our weapons with us?” The tallest boy who introduced himself as Gyuvin asks.

Shotaro laughs nervously. “No, not at all! Sungchan just likes to be extra careful. But he’s putting it away now. Isn’t that right, Sungchan?”

The man’s response is not much more than a brief grunt before he disappears up the stairs.

It isn’t until Sungchan returns that Shotaro urges everyone to get comfortable, allowing them to sit sprawled across the living room. He helps bring Eunseok bring out the minimal portions of meat and vegetables, clearly pleased with how everything has turned out. He’s quick to settle on the floor, not having brought out a serving for himself.

“Thank you guys for this, seriously. I know we already did introductions, but again, I’m Hanbin. It means a lot that you guys are willing to even be in contact with us.”

Shotaro smiles like he always does. Joohyun fights the urge to roll her eyes at his enthusiasm. Instead, she plays with the fingers on Wonbin’s left hand, leaving his right available to eat with.

“I think we’re all just glad to see people who aren’t trying to kill us, for once,” Shotaro admits.

“We don’t know that.”

“Joo.”

At the quiet scolding, Joohyun chooses to fill her cheeks with food. She can feel the subtle pinch of Wonbin’s fingers on the back of her hand, forcing her to roll her eyes. She knows that on any other day, Wonbin would be right there with her, dishing out shady looks and sarcastic comments. The thought that it has changed in front of these strangers makes Joohyun’s head spin.

“Listen, we get it,” Hanbin says after a moment of tense silence. “But we seriously just want to be cordial. It’s helpful to have allies, especially right before winter hits.”

“And you guys seem kind of cool,” Matthew interjects. “I like the whole deep brooding vibe you guys got going on. It’s like some real angsty shit! I dig it.”

A stunned silence falls over the living room, the only interruption being the clang of a metal fork against a bowl. Hanbin looks mildly horrified from his spot next to Shotaro, while other members of his group look equally shocked. Joohyun’s jaw clicks with the force of clenching it, scar on her cheek beginning to throb from the pressure.

It’s a deep chuckle that interrupts the silence, shocking everyone from their stupor.

“Fuck,” Sungchan laughs, hand over his belly. “I like you, dude.”

Wonbin pinches the back of Joohyun’s hand again as the entire room bursts into quiet laughter. He must have noticed the same thing that Joohyun has. It’s the first time Sungchan has laughed in months.

. . .

One year and ten months prior

Eunseok stumbles over his words, hands shaking with the effort to get them out. Sohee’s hand is smoothing over the expanse of the older’s back, as if his touch could physically ease the words out of Eunseok’s mouth. After a few more seconds of stuttered syllables, Eunseok visibly deflates, mouth snapping shut. Jaeri just smiles at him sadly.

“It’s okay,” she coos. “You’re making progress. Full words are gonna be coming out in no time.”

Joohyun watches the encounter from Wonbin’s side, tuning out the boy’s mindless humming. It’s become his habit, she noticed, to fill the silence with random sounds since everything started. At first, Joohyun assumed it had been to distract himself from the sounds of bombs and gunfire. Even when that passed, and the majority of the world died, she realized that the silence could be even scarier.

The air in concrete ruins that they’ve taken up shelter in are a little too warm for the spring, making for a comfortable home for the night. Despite the warmth, Shotaro is bundled up in a thick jacket, flat on his back on the dusty floor. Joohyun imagines that it’s far from comfortable, but comfort is a luxury they gave up when they decided to flee campus a few months ago.

The rest of their group is sprawled about the space, some talking quietly while others choose to stare into space. Joohyun can’t imagine that there’s much to talk about when they’ve spent the past few months practically attached at the hip. But by the enthusiastic smile on Seunghan’s face as he gushes to Anton, she guesses that some of them must have found something to discuss.

“We haven’t talked about it, you know,” Wonbin states, barely audible.

Joohyun doesn’t turn to regard the boy as she speaks. “Talked about what?”

“Seunghan.”

“Bin,” Joohyun sighs, looking around to see if anyone else has caught wind of their conversation. “I told you it was only one time, and that I was mad at you. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You never said that you didn’t want it to happen again. And you weren’t mad when I told you that I’ve also been in your shoes.”

Joohyun’s hands are balled into fists, broken nails biting the flesh of her palms. “So what? We both cheated on each other with the same person. That doesn’t mean shit.”

“Maybe it should.” Wonbin turns to face the woman. “Maybe I want it to.”

“For fucks sake, Bin! The world is over. Now isn’t really the time for wants.”

“Just because you won’t let yourself want more doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t.”

. . .

The neighbors end up being more personable than Joohyun expected. They joke and laugh, smile politely, and give calm input when appropriate. They even leave politely, thanking everyone before heading out in a single file line. It isn’t until the last one, Gunwook, passes through the door that Joohyun lets out a heavy sigh.

Sungchan lets out a loud groan from the couch, where Anton is tucked under his arm. It’s odd for him to be so touchy lately, but Joohyun finds herself smiling anyway. It’s a glimpse into the Sungchan she used to know.

“I can’t believe those were the first people we’ve spoken to in almost a year,” Sungchan mumbles, running the hand not holding Anton through his hair. “It was exhausting.”

“I thought it was kind of nice. And you seemed to like that Matthew dude,” Sohee chirps. “So sad what happened to them though.”

Joohyun sighs. “Yeah, as if I needed a reminder of what happens to women in times like these.”

Wonbin prickles from his place on Joohyun’s right. The hand that he had gently slung around her waist tightens into a protective grip, subtly bringing her closer to him.

“You know we’d never let that happen to you, baby.”

“I’m sure they told their women the same thing,” Joohyun shrugs.

“Princess,” Seunghan mumbles, crossing the room to stand in front of her, “no one’s gonna lay a finger on you. We would have no problem killing anyone who even thinks to get close.”

Joohyun can barely register the sound of Shotaro mumbling something before the other men are shuffling to leave the room. Seunghan and Wonbin still have her trapped between them, faces twisted into hard expressions that she hasn’t seen since Jaeri’s funeral. The weight of their stares forces her shoulders into a pathetic slump.

“You know that, right, princess?”

Joohyun merely shrugs.

“We would die for you, baby. Time and time again. No one would dare hurt you as long as either of us could help it.”

Wonbin’s lips are warm against Joohyun’s temple, lingering in less of a kiss and more of a secure presence. Seunghan reaches out to grab her hand in his, guiding it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to her palm. The simultaneous press of lips to her skin is enough to have Joohyun reeling, a burning sensation spreading throughout her body. She fights the urge to break free from their grasps.

“I love you, Joohyun. We both do.”

It’s odd to hear her name spoken aloud. Neither of the men have called her by her name since before the world ended, choosing instead to use pet names to soften the blow of their words. This time, though, Seunghan’s words are sharp and piercing, slicing through the air with a finality that leaves no room for questioning. She wonders if Seunghan knows that doubts are blooming in the back of her mind anyways.

“Seriously, baby,” Wonbin mumbles against her temple. “Don’t let their stories scare you. We would protect you with all we have. Nothing is ever going to happen to you, I promise.”

Joohyun fights the urge to scoff. The boys should know better than to promise anything in the end of the world. She’s sure Sungchan promised Jaeri the same thing. Clearly, it was a promise he was in no way able to keep.

Joohyun squirms until she’s free from the grasp of her lovers, forcing a pathetic smile. “I’m going to go help Eunseok clean up.”

. . .

One year and nine months prior

“Promise me you won’t freak out,” Wonbin mumbles into Joohyun’s hair.

The entire length of his body is pressed behind his lover’s, the few extra inches he has on her allowing him to rest his cheek on the top of her head. She hadn’t moved when he sidled up behind her, staring diligently ahead. They’re standing far enough from the edge of the cliff that they aren’t really at risk of falling. But Joohyun knows that one too forceful move could have them both tumbling.

“I can’t promise you things like that. You know this, Bin.”

The man’s sigh is little more than a deflation of the chest behind her.

“Fine. At least promise me that you’ll really think about what I’m saying before you respond.

Joohyun nods. “That, I can do.”

“Okay,” Wonbin mumbles, inhaling deeply. “I want to date Seunghan. I want you to date him too. I want us to be together, all three of us.”

As promised, Joohyun is silent, letting her lover’s words truly sink in before responding. For a moment, her head is blank, mind fully absorbed in the sight of the thick woods that lay beyond the valley. Then she imagines all three of them trekking through those very woods together.

Joohyun imagines Wonbin kissing her forehead while Seunghan holds her hand. She imagines stumbling into one sturdy chest while another comes to support her from behind. She imagines splitting one portion of food into three. She imagines watching as heated kisses are exchanged over her shoulder. She imagines crying as two funerals are held at the same time.

“What does that mean for us?” Joohyun finally questions.

She can feel the stutter of Wonbin’s heart in his chest.

“It means that we just love one more person as much as we love each other.”

Joohyun sighs. “You already love him, though. Don’t you?”

“I do. And I think you do, too.”

The night that she spent with Seunghan flickers through her mind in flashes of heated kisses and skin on skin. He told her how long he had been waiting, how much he wanted it. He also refused to bring up Wonbin, kissing Joohyun harder every time she mentioned his name. Ten minutes was all it took for Joohyun to forget about her boyfriend completely.

In front of them, the forest is blooming with lush greens and colorful flowers indicative of late spring. The weather has finally warmed up enough for them to ditch their jackets, comfortable in light flannels and sweatshirts. There’s a cloud right where the top of the mountain kisses the sky. It kind of looks like a racehorse, diligently pushing forward.

“I don’t care what you do, Bin. But don’t speak for me.”

It takes a lot of strength for Joohyun to release herself from Wonbin’s firm grasp. Once she is free, though, she moves as far away as possible. She’s turning to go back to the cabin where the group has set up camp when she hears the faintest whisper of her lover’s voice.

“One of these days, I’m going to get you to stop running from me.”

Joohyun knows that she shouldn’t respond, that conversations like this escalate into unhealthy encounters that leave both of them sore in the morning. But she can’t help it, ankle twisted in a bear trap of her own making.

”You have to stop giving me things to run from first,” she spits.

Wonbin just chuckles, cold and bitter. “You’re running from yourself. That doesn’t have shit to do with me.”

All of the times where Wonbin has said the exact same pair of sentences flood Joohyun’s brain. Their first fight, then again on Wonbin’s birthday, then again when Joohyun gave him the silent treatment, then again at Anton’s party, then again and again and again. No matter how many times he says it, it will light a fire in Joohyun’s core every time.

”Fuck you,” Joohyun seethes. “It’s the end of the world and you’re just worried about not having enough holes to fuck. I’m not the problem here. Go be with Seunghan for all I care.”

Joohyun skips dinner, spending the entire afternoon and evening sitting by the makeshift fire pit on the side of the cabin. It’s warm enough that she didn’t feel the need to light it, staring instead at the pile of ashes at its core. It’s a shame that they look so close to how she feels, sullen and dejected. All of the fight has left her body, leaving her in a hollow heap on the ground.

It’s well after dark that someone approaches her, the sound of shifting soil under hunting boots being the only sign of their presence. Joohyun doesn’t look when they come to sit next to her, far enough that they aren’t touching, but close enough to share body heat. Even when the clear their throat, Joohyun’s eyes remain trained on the barely visible ashes.

”He told me you guys were fighting about me.”

Joohyun scoffs, somehow even more offended by that thought. “It wasn’t about you. Bin just acts like he hates me sometimes.”

”He loves you more than I thought was possible,” Seunghan protests. “It scares me sometimes. I’ve known him his whole life and he’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you.”

Except for you, Joohyun wants to admit.

”Listen, the world is fucked and you guys make each other happy. Don’t give that up over petty fights.”

Joohyun imagines that if Seunghan knew that their arguments were deeper than petty fights he wouldn’t be saying this. If he knew the way that they hurled insults at each other like knives and then soothed the wounds with kisses, he wouldn’t be encouraging them to keep loving each other. If he knew that he was a lone knife, twisting and turning where he has been lodged in both of their thoracic cavities, he would leave Joohyun to burn out like the ashes in front of her.

”Whatever it is,” Seunghan continues. “You guys should talk about it. Shutting each other out like this can’t be good.”

Joohyun knows that it’s what Wonbin deserves. He deserves a partner who will speak up when something bothers them, not someone who lets her grievances stew under the surface of her skin until they boil over in concoction of insults and curses. He deserves a peacemaker, someone who is content in giving and receiving love. He deserves Seunghan.

But Joohyun is selfish. And maybe, just maybe, she thinks she deserves a bit of him, too.

. . .

The first snow is little more than a light dusting, but Anton is bouncing off the walls with excitement anyways. His eyes are wide as he takes in the sight before him on the porch, causing Joohyun to smile. It’s easy to forget that just a few years ago, they all were calling him their baby. Times like now make it easy to remember.

“This is like the perfect amount of snow,” Anton says in an overly muted tone. “I’m glad it’s fun snow and not fighting-for-our-lives snow.”

Joohyun makes a noise of agreement as she rocks back and forth in one of the rocking chairs. It was just last year when they had that kind of snow. It came down in blankets over the course of multiple days and shut them into the little abandoned camping store they called home. It also killed two members of their crew.

Joohyun thinks that the two of them may have wanted to die. Eve and Lana were lovely people, if not a bit pessimistic at times. But when the snow hit, they both seemed to lose the light in their eyes. One day, Eve dug her way out of the snow and simply sat in the cold. Nobody could get her to come back inside, even trying to physically force her to. Within 24 hours she was gone.

The next day, Lana went outside to sit next to Eve’s lifeless body. With a simple flick of a hunting knife against her own wrist, she sealed her fate. And when the snow finally stopped, their bodies were embalmed in a red-tinged ice.

Joohyun shudders at the memory, feeling a deep chill in her veins.

“It’s not even that cold!” Sohee exclaims, running out to the grass. He leaves behind delicate footprints, barely visible on such a light layer of snow.

“It’s not, but you should still be careful,” Joohyun warns. “If you guys find a way to hurt yourselves, Shotaro will kill me.”

“I will!”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Shotaro slides onto the porch. He settles in the rocking chair adjacent to Joohyun, fully bundled up in a thick jacket and tattered scarf. His cheeks have taken on a rosy hue from the cold, giving him a youthful look that contrasts the deep bags underneath his eyes.

“I heard you screaming last night,” he begins, just soft enough for Joohyun’s ears. “I was on my way to you when it stopped. I didn’t know the nightmares were back.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Shotaro sighs. “But we need to. Why haven’t you been sleeping with Seunghan and Wonbin, anyway? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

Joohyun presses her lips together tightly, letting them instantly turn white from the pressure and the cold. Something in the back of her brain is telling her to go back inside, but she tries her best to fight it. She knows that this conversation is long overdue.

“I don’t like spending the night with them. It just makes sense for each of us to have our own space.” Joohyun shrugs. “Plus, the bed is kind of small for three people.”

“It’s bad enough that you’d prefer having nightmares to being with your boyfriends?”

Boyfriends. Joohyun hasn’t used that word in years, or at all in Seunghan’s case. It had always seemed a little too trivial for her liking. Sure, Wonbin was her boyfriend of almost four years, but it was different when Seunghan got involved. They weren’t simply dating. They were lovers.

“You wouldn’t get it,” Joohyun mutters. “They’re so intense.”

Shotaro cocks an eyebrow. “We’re eight people left out of probably 10,000 on Earth. I’m sure your relationship problems can’t be that intense.”

Joohyun stands, long black hair falling in front of her face. A few strands tickle the scar on her cheek, which sends a zap of pain across her face. It’s enough to distract her from Shotaro’s apologies and requests for her to stay as she pushes her way back into the house.

Sungchan looks confused upon seeing Joohyun enter the kitchen, hands halting where they had been twirling a Swiss Army knife. It takes Joohyun a moment to realize that her eye is twitching, which is likely what’s confusing the man.

“Everything okay?” He questions.

“It’s fine.” Joohyun winces as a sharp pain radiates across her face. “Everything is just fucking fine.”

. . .

One year and seven months prior

Joohyun punches with all of her might, knuckles crunching against the face beneath them. The man recoils, stepping back as blood begins to drip from his nose. She instantly scrambles for her backpack, unwilling to part from the supplies that the group is expecting her to return with. Right before she reaches the pack, a hand pulls her back.

For a moment, Joohyun is okay with dying. It’s preferable to whatever else this man has in store for her. She talks about scenarios like these all the time with Jaeri, where you find yourself alone with a random man who wants much more than your supplies. She wonders if it’s going to hurt. She knows he won’t be gentle.

The rough grip on her shoulder spins her around, briefly allowing her to take in the man’s twisted smirk and a bright glint of metal. She doesn’t register the sharp sting on her cheek until after she’s been pushed to the ground.

“You fucking bitch,” the man seethes.

The blood dripping down Joohyun’s face along with her sweat clouds her vision. All she can make out is the shuffling of her backpack and the sound of footsteps as the man runs away. She tries to move after him, falling back to the ground when her limbs protest in pain. At least it’s not the pain between her thighs that she was expecting.

Joohyun’s vision grows splotchy, nausea swimming in her stomach. Thick, warm blood streams down her face before the world fades to black.

When Joohyun comes to, the first thing she registers is the sharp throbbing pain in her face. It’s rhythmic, almost in time with the movement of her body. She opens her eyes to little more than a squint, the harsh glare of sunlight burning her retinas. A flinch is as far as she gets before she realizes she’s being held.

“Oh thank god you’re awake! I’m gonna get you back to...”

Joohyun can’t make out the last bit of the sentence as she passes out again.

A sharp pain in her cheek is what wakes her up. She flinches away from the sensation, but she can’t move far. Her eyes are weighed down as if they’ve been cemented together, preventing her from looking around the room. There’s a gentle shush, just barely audible over the rush of blood in Joohyun’s ears.

“That was the last one. You’re all done now.”

It takes a lot of effort, but eventually Joohyun is able to open her eyes, blinking frequently as light floods her vision. As her view clears, she’s able to take in the smiling figure above her. He simply cuts a string before making a noise of satisfaction.

“Taro?”

A sweaty palm on her shoulder stops her from moving to sit up.

“Woah, don’t move. Your ribs are still pretty fucked up. And don’t speak! I don’t want you busting your stitches.”

“Stitches?”

Shotaro hisses, friendly smile morphing into a wince. “What did I just say? Seriously, just take it easy. I’ll go get Seunghan. He’ll explain everything to you.”

Joohyun doesn’t protest as Shotaro leaves the room, the various points of pain on her body finally registering. There’s the sharp pain on her cheek that throbs with every breath she takes. Then there’s the dull ache encompassing the left side of her chest, making each breath feel heavy and effortful. Her knuckles also hurt, but their hot throb is negligible compared to her other injuries.

“Glad to see you’re awake, princess.”

Joohyun turns her head quickly when Seunghan enters, biting back a groan when her body protests. Seunghan’s gaze sweeps over her body, face twisted into a wince as he takes in her broken and bruised state. He’s still in the clothes that he wore when they left for the supplies run, so Joohyun assumes that not much time has passed.

“Taro doesn’t want you to talk, but I can let you know what happened,” Seunghan says as he sits at the foot of the bench Joohyun is resting on. “I think he went to go get Wonbin, but I already told him. I forgot that motherfucker packs a punch.”

Seunghan brushes his hair off his forehead, revealing the dark reds and purples forming around his right eye. Dread instantly pools in Joohyun’s core. There’s no way Wonbin did that because of her.

“I guess I deserve it, though,” Seunghan continues. “I should have never left you alone.”

“It’s not your—“

“Stop. You’re not supposed to be talking until your face heals up.”

Seunghan runs his hands through his hair again, obviously distressed. Joohyun craves to reach out and comfort him, but her ribs protest at the thought of moving.

“So, I guess after I left to check the store across the street, somebody must have found you and tried to take your stuff. Instead of handing it over, you fought back. And then, he did this to you,” Seunghan clears his throat. “When I came back, you were passed out and your face was all bloody. He cut your face down to the fat, you know. So I carried you back with the flesh hanging out of your fucking face.

“Thankfully you’re okay, but…fuck. I should have been there to protect you. I’m so sorry that I left you alone. I understand if you never forgive me, princess. But I’m so, so sorry.”

Joohyun doesn’t register her tears until their salt stings the fresh stitches in her cheek. Despite the pain in her body, she reaches out to cover Seunghan’s hand with her own, using the last of her energy to give it a faint squeeze. The action finally has the dam breaking, and Seunghan crumples around a sob.

“It’s not your fault.” Joohyun’s face stings with the simple sentence. The beads of sweat forming around the injury from the sweltering temperature drip down her cheek, pooling in the injury and adding to the pain.

“It is. And I’m so, so sorry, princess. I already know Wonbin’s gonna hate me forever. And I understand if you do too.”

Joohyun shakes her head in protest, ignoring the way it makes the room spin. “He loves you. Me too.”

. . .

The kisses being trailed up the side of her neck distract Joohyun from the force claiming her mouth. It’s almost a competition of who can make her the most breathless. As Seunghan tangles his hands into Joohyun’s hair, Wonbin bites down on a particularly sensitive spot, causing her to moan at the dual sensations.

Heat rushes through Joohyun’s stomach, core tightening as she shifts forward. The hard lines of Seunghan’s abs meet the softer planes of her stomach, made thinner by the lack of food. Wonbin’s broad shoulders almost encompass her from behind, pressing her further into Seunghan’s space.

Joohyun lets her brain float away while the men love her body. Occasionally she flinches at a sharp press of fingers or lets her jaw drop open in an aborted whine. She can’t help but let herself lose all sense of space and time, the haze that encompasses her being all too welcoming. She can vaguely register Wonbin’s sweet smile as he presses a kiss to her temple and Seunghan’s short coo as he showers her with compliments.

When the fog clears, Joohyun is once again sandwiched between two bodies, hands stroking over every inch of exposed skin. A dazed smile crosses her face, creating a dull ache around her scar. A press of lips against it soothe the pain before it can cut too deep.

“You back with us, baby?”

Wonbin’s voice is much raspier, voice clearly worn from their earlier activities. The familiar gravely sound just makes Joohyun’s smile grow.

“Yeah,” Joohyun clears her throat, “I am.”

Seunghan presses a kiss to the back of her neck, right above the clasp of her chain. Its gold color remains bright, somehow not faded over time. The small pendant in the shape of a bow usually sits right in the center of her clavicles. Now it’s shifted, laying askew from the night's activities. Joohyun moves to fix it with trembling fingers, sighing when gravity forces it out of place again.

“Taro told us that the nightmares are back,” Seunghan whispers, lips still attached to Joohyun’s skin. “We didn’t know.”

A sharp pain tugs at Joohyun’s chest, forcing her to gulp down air like a fish out of water. “It’s not—it’s just not a big deal.”

“Baby, you used to stay awake for days because of them. Now you want us to think it’s not that bad?”

“That was different,” Joohyun protests. “That was before we found the farm. It’s better here.”

Seunghan sighs, a rush of hot breath tickling the back of Joohyun’s neck. “At least try sleeping with us more. Maybe that will help. I know being with Jaeri helped a lot, right?”

Joohyun shifts, attempting to pull away from the men she’s sandwiched in between. The tangle of legs seems endless, making Joohyun unable to identify where her legs end and where her lovers’ begin. The grip around her waist tightens further, keeping her in place. She struggles against it for a moment, heart racing in her chest.

“Relax, princess,” Seunghan coos. “You’re okay. We’re just not ready to let you go yet.”

“We’re not letting you run away from us anymore,” Wonbin adds. “You’re safe with us. We just want you to know that.”

Joohyun has never imagined safety to feel so constricting. She never imagined safety as a weighted blanket but rather a gust of wind under wings. She never imagined safety to be a pull, but rather a push. She never imagined safety to be her two biggest desires, but rather never having the desire for anything at all.

. . .

Their new neighbors stop by only after a particularly heavy snow storm hits and then clears. Hanbin claims it’s just to check on them and make sure everyone is okay. Joohyun holds her breath throughout the encounter, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’s almost convinced that the rest of the boys will come by with guns blazing in order to take them by surprise.

They don’t, of course.

Hanbin, Taerae, and Yujin only stay for about an hour, catching up with Shotaro and Sohee. Joohyun overhears them talking about a supply run that will need to be made soon, someone even suggesting that both groups could come together to make it easier. A wave of nausea passes through her stomach at the thought. Leaving her closest friends in the hands of barely acquaintances sounds like the worst idea anyone could have. Her stomach lurches when she hears the faint sound of Shotaro agreeing.

After they leave, an odd silence is left filling the farmhouse. It’s not exactly silence, since Sohee has started to speak quietly with Eunseok in the kitchen. But it’s enough for Joohyun’s mind to fall blank, an inability to process sight or sound overcoming her central nervous system. It’s both a calming emptiness and an alarming constriction. She is only shocked out of her reverie when a figure bounds down the stairs, wood creaking loudly enough to draw her attention.

“You don’t look so good, Joo,” Sungchan whispers as he comes to a halt in front of Joohyun’s swaying form. “Are you feeling alright?”

Joohyun clears building thickness from her throat. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

”No, you’re not. Should I go get Wonbin?”

”No!” Joohyun doesn’t know where she found the breath to be able to yell. “You guys don’t have to call him or Hani every time you think something’s up.”

Sungchan sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat as he takes a seat next to Joohyun. The worn wooden planks sigh under the change in weight, greeting the man as he plops down. He’s quick to copy Joohyun’s position, knees pulled to his chest and head tipped back against the wall. His limbs are way too long and much too bulky to be constricted in such a position, but Sungchan doesn’t complain.

“Do you miss her?”

The question catches Joohyun off guard. Even though the “she” in question is unnamed, Joohyun has no trouble deciphering who Sungchan is referring to. The two of them had never spoken about Jaeri’s passing directly, and Joohyun isn’t sure that Sungchan has spoken about it at all. She imagines she should be asking him instead of the other way around.

“Of course I do. She was the only one who got what it was like to be a girl throughout all this bullshit.”

Silence.

“Do you?”

Sungchan lets out a loud exhale through his nose, lightly tapping his head against the wall a few times. It’s an odd rhythm, almost like a heartbeat. Joohyun is about to warn him about the possibility of a concussion before the man moves to speak.

“You wouldn’t believe how much I miss her. But I think more than that, I’m angry.”

“That those guys shot her?”

Sungchan lets out a short chuckle. “Well, I mean, yeah. But that wasn’t what I meant.”

Joohyun turns to the man, waiting for him to continue. His gaze is fixed on a random point on the opposite wall, eyes glazed over with a layer of unshed tears. Joohyun imagines that if she looks really hard, she can find reflections of Jaeri in his irises.

“I’m more mad that I wasn’t better to her. I didn’t treat her as well as I could have. I should’ve made the most of the time we had together.”

Joohyun never pictured Sungchan and Jaeri’s relationship as anything other than perfect. The two always looked at each other like they hung the stars, never fighting, never anything other than absolutely smitten with each other. Joohyun can’t remember a time when their relationship had any cracks or holes. The two stuck together as if they were the air they needed to breathe.

“But you guys were like perfect.”

Sungchan chuckles again. “We weren’t, at all. But I wish I didn’t see those imperfections as such a problem at the time. I wish I just said ‘fuck it’ and let all the minor stuff go. All that mattered was that I loved her and she loved me.”

”But it’s complicated,” Joohyun protests. “We’re living in hard-as-fuck times. Of course there were going to be issues. I’m honestly surprised we didn’t see any of them.”

“It is tough. But I should have been grateful that I had someone by my side throughout it instead of worrying about petty shit. Look at you, for example. You have two people who love you and will be with you through anything. That’s all that matters.”

“But—,”

Sungchan stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “Respectfully, Joo, there are no buts. It’s the truth. Take it from someone who lost their everything. They should be all that matters in this fuck-ass world.”

A distant chatter grows louder as two pairs of footsteps descend the stairs. Joohyun doesn’t even have to look around the corner to know who it is, being able to recognize their voices anywhere. But she does, unable to prevent the small smile that crosses her face at the sight of her lovers. Sungchan chuckles beside her.

“That smile is the only thing that matters, Joo,” he whispers. “Don’t force it away.”

Wonbin and Seunghan enter the small hallway just as Sungchan is getting on his feet. They barely acknowledge the large man in front of them, breaking into twin smiles when they lay eyes on Joohyun.

”What were you two up to?” Seunghan asks, reaching out a hand to help Joohyun off the ground.

”Nothing,” Sungchan chirps. “I was just telling Joohyun how much we all love to see her smile.”

Wonbin raises an eyebrow, head tilting in confusion. “I mean, we do, but—,”

”Don’t say but, Binnie,” Seunghan interrupts. “We all do love to see you smile, princess.”

Instead of wiping the smile from her face, Joohyun scrunches her nose, feeling the deep throb of the scar on her cheek. She struggles not to shrink under the two pairs of eyes on her, not paying any mind as Sungchan moves into the kitchen. She wonders if they can see the minute movement of her cheek in time with her heartbeat.

She just smiles harder and lets them look.

.FIN.

Part 1

#riize imagines #riize #park wonbin imagines #hong seunghan imagines #riize smut #riize angst #riize fluff #we riize #written in the stars

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riizegasm · 7 months ago

Text

We Love, We Lose || H.SH and P.WB

❀ pairing: Park Wonbin x fem!oc x Hong Seunghan

❀ genre: apocalypse!au, angst, slice of life, minor fluff

❀ word count: ~7.9k

❀ warnings: explicit language, suggestive scenes, minor character death, difficult conversations around grief, mild gore (description of major injury), poly!hanibani

❀ summary: In the new world, the group dwindles bit by bit. However, in the midst of chaos, loss, and grief, it's hard not to be selfish. Desire always seems selfish when death lurks around every corner.

❀ A/N: Although this is far from my first work on tumblr (find my old works @golchaworld), welcome to the first work on my new blog! I've been sitting on this piece since about December, so it is truly my baby. As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are always welcome. I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 || masterlist

Jaeri didn’t get the funeral she deserved. She didn’t die the death she deserved. She didn’t live the life she deserved. All eight of them were very aware of the fact that they would meet the same fate. None of them would get to live the lives they deserved to live, and all of them would die deaths that didn’t matter. It was a simple fact of their circumstance.

Joohyun watches as Sungchan falls to his knees next to the raised mound of dirt. Eunseok had been kind enough to find a few white flowers to rest on top of it until the grass grew back. Joohyun wonders if the water from Sungchan’s tears and the decomposition of Jaeri’s body would be enough to nourish the soil, or if the patch will forever be barren.

Shotaro has his hand on Sungchan’s shoulder, holding him steady as his body shakes with sobs. Joohyun can hear Anton’s soft sniffles from somewhere behind her, always easily upset. She imagines that all of them should be crying the way he is. There should be streams of tears and strangled sobs and harsh sniffles, but Joohyun just can’t find it in her to shed another tear.

Eunseok is the first to walk away, stoic as always. The group slowly scatters after that, until only Sungchan and Shotaro are left behind. Sungchan because he loves Jaeri; Shotaro because he loves Sungchan.

Joohyun finds herself following a familiar path out into the orchard, surrounded by trees and low-hanging fruit. She already knows that Seunghan will want to come by tomorrow to pick the apples. He had always described it as the perfect date. Joohyun would have agreed three years ago, before everything happened. Now, though, she thinks that any date is pointless.

They were here to survive, and that’s it.

She finds a familiar figure seated atop one of the tree stumps that they had cut during the summer. Wonbin’s broad shoulders have shrunk, sitting crouched over himself. A crisp breeze ruffles his inky black locks, leaving his hair akin to a bird's nest. He looks up when leaves crunch particularly loudly under the weight of Joohyun’s steps. His eyes are red-rimmed and glossy, seemingly holding onto tears that well up but never fall down the man’s face. Joohyun knows the feeling.

“I’m not sure Sungchan will ever get over this,” Joohyun says softly, joining the boy on the log.

The stump is barely big enough for the both of them, and Joohyun finds herself pressing into Wonbin’s side. The boy slings an arm around her waist, a familiar weight against her light flannel. When he breathes, Joohyun can feel the expansion and collapse of his chest. She finds it all too easy to join his rhythm.

“He will,” Wonbin sighs out. “We all will. It’s just going to take some time.”

Joohyun feels wetness in the gentle kiss that Wonbin plants on her forehead. The action releases a knot in her stomach, and suddenly, the woman is tearing up again. She remembers when Wonbin placed his lips in the exact same spot as they stood over their first body, blood pouring out from the bullet hole that Joohyun had placed in its forehead.

“He just loved her so much. Is that what happens to those we love?” Her voice cracks.

Wonbin shushes her, tucking her smaller frame into his chest. “We can’t help who we love. That may be all we have left in this world.”

“Even if it just dies like everything else?”

The chest beneath her head expands, then deflates in a shaky exhale. Joohyun looks up, fully expecting the tear tracks that have started to stain Wonbin’s face. His wide eyes reflect the light sunlight around them, holding the tiniest bit of warmth.

“Yes, baby. Even if it dies.”

. . .

Shotaro is the one who wakes Joohyun up, gently shaking her shoulder as he whispers her name. It’s more than enough to rouse the girl, who has become quite the light sleeper. She sits up in a panic, breathing deeply and scanning the room. When her eyes focus on Shotaro, she exhales. The man has a sad smile on his face, smoothing his hand down the expanse of her arm.

“You’re okay, Joo,” He soothes. “Seunghan just asked me to wake you up. I think he wants your help picking the apples.”

Joohyun nods, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, of course. Let him know I’m coming.”

The woman stays put well after Shotaro leaves the room, attempting to regulate her breathing. Her eyes flick over to the empty bed on the opposite side of the room, perfectly made up and smeared with a bit of residual blood. Joohyun sighs, finally pulling herself from her own bed and crossing the room. She lightly thumbs against the most visible bloodstain at the head of the bed. When she feels her stomach lurch, the remnants of last night’s dinner threatening to make an appearance, she quickly turns away to start getting ready.

It’s minutes later that she meets Seunghan in the kitchen, who is chatting away with Anton. Their youngest is puffy and red, the remnants of his tears still drying on his face. Seunghan, contrastingly, looks well rested, the only signs of distress being the wrinkle that has formed around his mouth and his chapped lower lip, bitten raw.

“Good morning, princess,” Seunghan coos from across the room.

Joohyun turns to Anton in lieu of an answer. “How are you feeling, ‘ton?”

The boy just shrugs at the question, letting out a heavy exhale. They have all gotten quite good at reading between the lines, knowing that their faces tell each other much more than words ever could. Just from looking at the younger boy, Joohyun knows how hard he’s taking the loss. It’s more than just sadness; it’s guilt.

At the lack of response, Joohyun crosses the room, gathering Anton into a tight hug. The boy returns it forcefully, underestimating his strength as always. Joohyun coughs a bit from the pressure at her ribs. When they pull away, Seunghan has an eyebrow cocked at the pair, clearly concerned.

“Are you alright?”

Joohyun simply waves the man off. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry,” Anton has a sheepish smile spread across his full lips. “I didn’t mean to squeeze you like that.”

“It’s okay, ‘ton, really. I’ll be a stress ball for you whenever you need it.”

The comment seems to pull a genuine chuckle from the boy, a smile taking over his face easily. Pride blooms in Joohyun’s chest, happy to finally see some positive emotion from the younger boy. She sighs in relief.

“Do you wanna come with me and Seunghan to pick the apples? They’re looking really good.”

Joohyun ignores the tense look that Seunghan shoots her from his position at her side. She instead chooses to focus solely on Anton, whose gaze flickers back and forth between the two. Although Joohyun has no idea what Seunghan looks like right now, she imagines he’s cursing her with his eyes.

“No thanks,” Anton mumbles in that muted way of his. “I actually wanted to spend some time with Sungchan. I wanted to make sure he’s okay.”

A slow smile blooms on Seunghan’s face. “You’re such a good kid, Chanyoung. Let us know if you or Sungchan need anything, okay?”

The minute that Anton promises to do so, Seunghan grabs Joohyun by the hand and practically pulls her through the back door of the farmhouse. He doesn’t let go through their journey down the porch steps, through the farm beds, and around the lake, until they are surrounded by apple trees laden with fruit. He produces two canvas bags from his pocket, holding one out for Joohyun to take. The minute she does, the man reaches over to peck her on the cheek.

“Our first solo date,” Seunghan muses, “apple picking—how romantic.”

Joohyun just scoffs, reaching for the nearest ripe apple and snapping its delicate stem. “You’re the only one who’s considering it a date.”

Seunghan scoffs, beginning to pick his own apples. “You told me back in school that this was a really cute date idea. You said that you would die if someone took you apple picking. I’m surprised Wonbin never did.”

“That was years ago.” Joohyun feels heat rise to her cheeks, attempting to bury her face deeper into the collar of her flannel. “You never asked me out then. It definitely doesn’t count now.”

Seunghan turns to face the woman, apple in hand. He’s quick to place it into his bag as he approaches her, a cocky smirk poised on his face. Joohyun is disgusted by how much she wants to kiss him. She knows that she is the only thing stopping herself.

“Princess, you and I both know that I have been in love with you for at least five years. I have asked you out at least twice. Both times, you claimed that it wasn’t the time for romance.”

Joohyun rolls her eyes. “You didn’t ask me out before everything went to shit, and that’s what matters.”

The tip of Seunghan’s nose is pink, matching the tips of his ears. Joohyuk wonders if it’s from embarrassment or the autumnal breeze that has winded its way through the trees. Based on the thin fabric of Seunghan’s worn sweatshirt, she assumes it’s the latter.

“I think it matters even more now,” Seunghan whispers, winding a muscled arm around the woman’s waist.

When he pulls her closer, Joohyun goes easily, lost in the fondness in his gaze. There’s a peek of sunlight through the trees, illuminating just one of Seunghan’s eyes. The glow extends across his face like a broad gash, ending right before his jawline. Joohyun reaches a hand up to trace along its edge, dropping her bag of apples in the process.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this,” Joohyun chides, hyper aware of the way Seunghan eyes the movement of her lips.

“Not without Wonbin, you mean?”

Joohyun shakes her head. “At all.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Joohyun knows she doesn’t. She knows that she wants nothing more than to be showered in Seunghan’s constant affection. She craves his fingertips gently tracing the dip of her hips, his lips leaving brands along the column of her neck, the sturdiness of his thighs underneath her weight. She knows that she desires way too much, but is helpless to stop herself.

Seunghan waits for Joohyun to move first, gently craning her neck up to meet his lips. Her movements are timid, restrained, as if trying to mask her desire. Seunghan lets her keep up her facade, gently connecting their lips and following her lead. When they part, Joohyun’s eyes remain shut. They’re close enough that Seunghan can count her eyelashes, admiring the way they cast gentle shadows on her cheekbones.

Joohyun forces herself to open her eyes, slowly letting the early morning sunlight infiltrate her gaze. Seunghan still has that beam of light across his face, lips twisted into a soft smile. She feels a gentle warmth rise in her abdomen that travels all the way to the rosy apples of her cheeks. At her blush, Seunghan’s smile only grows. He leans forward to place a kiss on her forehead, identical to where Wonbin kissed her the day prior. Joohyun wonders if there is a permanent mark on her forehead that leads the two men to kiss her in the same place. She wonders if they read her like a map and X marks the spot.

“Come on, princess. Let’s go pick the rest of the apples and then make something delicious with them.”

. . .

Sohee is leaning his head against Wonbin’s shoulder when Joohyun finds them, the two of them hunched over an old map spread out on the living room floor. They speak softly, as if trying not to disturb the rest of the life in the house. It’s useless, Joohyun thinks. They would all be able to hear each other a mile away.

Joohyun clears her throat, making her way over to sit across from the two. She is only able to meet Sohee’s gaze, eyes shrunken around a smile. He doesn’t move from his position next to Wonbin, instead nuzzling further into his side. Joohyun blinks rapidly to negate the green that begins to cloud her vision.

“What are you guys doing?”

Sohee lights up at the question. “We’re looking for new sources! Wonbin was just saying that it’s time for us to go out and get some more supplies. But obviously we can’t go back to where Jaeri and Sungchan went, so…”

Sohee’s voice trails off sadly, leaving the room with a tense air. For the first time, Joohyun finds herself looking over to Wonbin. She isn’t surprised to see that he had already been looking at her.

“We need more medical supplies,” Wonbin begins. “We used just about everything we had on Jaeri. We could also use some more canned goods and food products before winter sets in.”

“That won’t be for at least another two months!” It’s not like Joohyun actually knows, since calendars became useless during the first few wars.

“Eunseok thinks the last harvest for the crops will be in a few weeks. We need to be prepared before then.”

It’s at times like this that Joohyun hates the way Wonbin speaks. He’s blunt and factual, not caring to let any amount of emotion cloud his words. The two of them are too similar in that regard, always presenting their thoughts in an unintentionally harsh manner. She frequently wondered if the similarity would break them up, forcing them into brutal fights that would end their relationship. At least everything changed before it had the chance to.

“I think it’s too dangerous to send anyone back out there after what just happened to Jaeri,” Joohyun protests, a hot feeling blooming in her chest. “We can’t just let someone go.”

Wonbin sighs. “It’s not like we’d be going to the same place that they went. That’s why we’re looking at new possible sources. So when we go, we won’t run into that same issue.”

“We?”

Wonbin’s eyes widen, sensing his mistake. Joohyun’s arms are crossed in front of her chest, lips pulled into a thin line as she stares back at the man across from her. At the change in demeanor, Wonbin finally pulls away from Sohee, shooting the boy a kind smile.

“Can you give us a minute?”

Sohee just nods, instantly scurrying out of the room. Wonbin’s gaze follows the boy as he exits, only turning back to the woman in front of him when he is sure that they’re alone. Joohyun’s right eyebrow twitches repeatedly, a sign of just how stressed she is by the news. The woman’s stony expression reminds Wonbin of everything they craved to leave behind when they came to the farmhouse. The angry twist to her lips is all too reminiscent of her reaction to a threat. Wonbin craves to soothe it with his kiss.

“Baby,” Wonbin coos. “I can't ask Sungchan to go back out there after what happened.”

“So you plan to go instead.” Another eyebrow twitch.

“I wouldn’t go alone.”

“Then with who?”

Wonbin sighs. “Probably Seunghan.”

In the blink of an eye, Joohyun is on her feet, crossing the small space in search of an exit. Wonbin scrambles after her, barely catching her arm before she can move into the kitchen. Her long, dark locks slap him in the face as she turns around, venom in her eyes. Wonbin would be scared if he hadn’t been in this exact position so many times before.

“Let go of me,” she seethes.

Wonbin does as told, but steps closer into her space, knowing that another escape attempt is likely. Joohyun has always been flighty when it comes to standing her ground. She chooses not to fight unless she has to, preferring to run away from the situation and never look back. Somehow, Wonbin has prevented her from escaping.

“Can you just listen to me before you storm off like you always do?”

Hurt clouds Joohyun’s expression before she steels it again. The scar on her right cheek aches with the effort of remaining emotionless. It’s throbbing, hot and angry. Joohyun feels a phantom pain of the knife sliding across her skin, deep enough to reveal the cheek fat below. It still stings. She wants nothing more than for Wonbin to kiss the pain away.

“There isn’t shit you can say that would make this better.”

Wonbin rolls his eyes. “Somebody needs to go. Sungchan obviously can’t, not right now. So Seunghan volunteered and I couldn’t let him go by himself. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to him. You wouldn’t forgive me if something happened to him.”

“And what if something happens to both of you? What then?”

When Wonbin reaches for Joohyun’s hands again, she relents with only minimal resistance. The man gathers her hands in his, pulling her impossibly closer. Like this, Wonbin can see the minute rhythm in the twitch of her eyebrow, the throbbing of her scar, the wetness pooling in her eyes. Not a single tear falls.

“Nothing’s going to happen to us,” Wonbin soothes. “We’re going to be fine, baby.”

Joohyun lets out a shaky exhale, eyes squeezing shut as she breathes. She is reminded once again why she was never able to really break up with Wonbin in the past. He was too good at tearing down her walls, too good at minimizing all of her worries, too good at soothing her and talking her down. Of course, in the harshness of the end of the world, she embraced his comfort and level-headedness. But it’s different now. She won’t let him talk her down again.

“That’s what Sungchan told Jaeri, and look at what happened to them.”

. . .

The temperature drops as the sun falls lower and lower in the sky. The once pleasant breeze has taken on a nose-nipping chill, making Joohyun shiver despite the thick blanket wrapped around her. The rocking chair creaks as it sways forward and backwards. It’s a gentle rhythm that could lull her to sleep, but the body in the chair adjacent to her makes sure that doesn’t happen.

“How is it to sleep in your room?” Eunseok asks softly, chair swaying in a rhythm similar to Joohyun’s own.

“It’s fine.”

Sleep has never been the best for Joohyun. Once the wars broke out, she was kept up all night from anxiety. When everything collapsed, and she found herself fleeing, she always offered to keep watch while others slept at night. She would stay awake for days on end until Wonbin noticed and made it his personal mission to get her to sleep. It was mostly unsuccessful until they got to the farmhouse. It was the first real bed Joohyun had slept in in months, so she slept for twelve hours straight that first night.

Of course, having Jaeri sleeping peacefully across from her always helped. When Joohyun woke up with a scream, sweating from the effort of escaping her night demons, Jaeri would crawl into her bed and soothe her. She would keep her in an embrace and sing softly until Joohyun fell back asleep.

Now it takes a good five minutes for someone to make it to Joohyun when she wakes up screaming.

“Are you sure it’s fine?” Eunseok prods. “I can see those bags underneath your eyes.”

Joohyun scoffs. “We all have dark circles.”

Eunseok hums, considering the fact. “That’s true. But you’re the only one out here with me while everyone else is upstairs sleeping.”

“They’re not sleeping. Or at least Seunghan and Wonbin aren’t.”

Eunseok outright laughs at this, leaning back fully in his chair. The sound is deep and familiar, planting a seed of a smile on Joohyun’s face.

“Declined their invitation to join?”

Joohyun rolls her eyes, ignoring the way Eunseok continues to laugh. “I really just can’t deal with them right now.”

“Well, not to be crass, but,” Eunseok shrugs. “Nothing will put you to sleep better than a good orgasm.”

Now it’s Joohyun’s turn to laugh, rocking chair creaking as she leans forward. “You’re right, I guess.”

The pair settle into silence, another gust of chilly wind rustling the chimes near the door. Joohyun peers out into the expanse of darkness that surrounds them, wondering if there’s something unseen that’s looking back at them. In reality, she knows that it’s just patches of crops until you reach the lake, and then the orchard just beyond that. But something in her wonders if there’s something stalking in the small cornfield, eyes tracking her every move.

“You know,” Joohyun says softly, voice barely audible over the squeak of the chairs. “There’s still some blood on Jaeri’s bed.”

“Does that freak you out?” Eunseok takes a swig from his metal canteen.

“No,” Joohyun replies truthfully. “I just wonder how her last moments were. She was bleeding out on the bed while I was screaming in my sleep. It couldn’t have been the most peaceful way to go.”

Joohyun remembers being woken up by Sungchan, who had come to check on Jaeri in the middle of the night. Joohyun thrashed and screamed, eventually elbowing Sungchan in the nose while he tried to calm her down. When she finally settled, they both looked over to Jaeri’s bed. She was already dead.

“It’s not your fault,” Eunseok muses. “We’re all going to die an uncomfortable, untimely death whether we want to admit it or not. Jaeri just met her fate before the rest of us.”

“Because of me.”

Eunseok makes a noise in protest. “Because some scumbag shot her in the leg with a rusty bullet. That’s not on any of us.”

As much as Joohyun knows it’s the truth, she can’t help the feelings of guilt that brew in her stomach like a potion. She had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. She was supposed to stop them. But she didn’t, too convinced that Jaeri would be safe in Sungchan’s care.

His yells for help still echo in her mind late at night. She remembers seeing them approach the farm in the darkness, Jaeri laying limp and bleeding in Sungchan’s arms. She remembers how they placed her on the kitchen counter and tried to fish out the bullet with a butter knife. She remembers the greenish-yellow pus that began to leak from the wound in the coming days. She remembers the screams that could be heard from miles away as they tried to amputate her leg with a butcher’s knife. She remembers the blood that Jaeri began to cough up, so frequent that she was unable to speak.

Sungchan still placed a final kiss on her lips, cold and stained with her own blood.

“Do you think that she and Sungchan got too careless because they were in love?”

Eunseok shakes his head almost instantly, and Joohyun wonders how he doesn’t get dizzy with the motion combined with the rocking of his chair. She knows that Eunseok finds it hard to think sometimes, head permanently hazy from the impact of the concrete. Joohyun remembers when they found him in the rubble, clearly concussed and barely able to speak. She is awed sometimes by how eloquent he still manages to be.

“As much as love is reckless, it is equally as cautious. They both had more to lose.”

“But they lost it anyway.”

“They did,” Eunseok clears his throat. “They lost it anyways.”

. . .

Shotaro calls a house meeting the next morning. Everyone is slow to gather in the living room, taking seats upon old, worn furniture. Joohyun wonders how old everything was before everything happened. Now, it’s too hard to put a date on things, especially since the entire world has been covered with a fine layer of dust.

Sungchan is the last to join the group, long limbs moving lethargically as he crosses the room. Joohyun winces at the dark purples and reds sitting underneath his eyes, almost like bruises. His hair is untamed, splayed messily across his head. There’s a paleness to his skin that screams dehydration, along with a smattering of pimples forming along his cheek. He even looks thinner than usual, settling onto a chair in the corner without so much as a sound.

“So I know that these next few months are going to be shitty,” Shotaro starts. “But we’ve gotta plan so that we can make it through.”

Shotaro’s gaze flickers back and forth between Sungchan and the rest of the group, hoping to remedy any tension with his eyes alone. If there is any resistance, he doesn’t pick up on it, choosing instead to continue with his ment.

“Eunseok says that the last harvest should be in about four weeks, meaning that we will have fresh crops for another two months or so. We still need to go out for canned goods and medical supplies. Both are crucial to us making it through this winter. Thankfully, Wonbin and Seunghan volunteered to make the run for us.”

Anton perks up from his spot near Sohee, visibly confused. “Why would we send two more people for supplies after what just happened?”

“Because we need to survive,” Eunseok chimes in. “We can’t do that without food and supplies.”

Shotaro nods softly. “Exactly, so it’s better that we do all of this now so that we’re not scrambling right before the first snow hits.”

“I think that’s a stupid fucking idea,” Joohyun seethes. “It’s like we’re just sending people out to die.”

As Joohyun surveys the room, it becomes more and more apparent that she’s fighting a losing battle. The only one who seems to be considering her point is Anton, who has always erred on the cautious side. Most of the group, however, still sits silently in their various positions around the room, eyes trained on the stained carpet beneath their feet.

“We’re not going to die,” Wonbin mutters.

“You don’t know that.”

They’re the first words that Sungchan has uttered in days. His voice is rough from lack of use, syllables slightly slurred as if they were thick in his mouth. The man clears his throat, but clearly makes no move to speak again. In the silence, Shotaro speaks up.

“They are not going to die,” he presses. “We’re not going to lose anyone else. Not to something like that.”

Sohee cocks his head curiously. “You said that last time.”

They could make a list of all of the people that they’ve lost since they first moved as a group about two years ago. For each one, Shotaro gave a similar speech, saying it wouldn’t happen again and that would be the last one. It never was of course. Before they found the farm, they found themselves burying a new person just about once a month, death appearing cyclically like a menstrual bleed.

Shotaro simply sighs at the reminder, pinching his nose bridge between his index finger and thumb. His obvious frustration is somewhat funny to see, reminding Joohyun of when they would spend hours in the multimedia lab, being scolded over the tiniest mistakes in the yearbook. It’s odd to see the same exasperation in such a different setting.

“Listen, I know we’re all scared after what happened to Jaeri, but it’s not going to happen again. Seunghan and Wonbin are going to be extremely careful and come back to us safe and sound, okay? We’re not going to lose anyone else.”

Although Shotaro’s comment seems to appease some of the younger members of their group, Joohyun can’t help but feel a little unnerved by his stance. She would have to send the two people she loved most out into the world, not knowing if they will ever make it back in one piece. She swallows, dread settling in the pit of her stomach like an anchor.

Everyone seems to take that as a dismissal, slowly starting to scatter. Sungchan remains rooted in his spot, eyes downturned. He picks aimlessly at a loose thread in his sweatpants, not caring that destroying their clothes isn’t a luxury they have. Joohyun watches as Shotaro leans into Sungchan’s space, whispering something into the younger man’s ear. Sungchan doesn’t look up, just nodding his head a few times before leaving.

As Joohyun watches the interaction, a hand begins to comb through the length of her hair. She doesn’t need to look to know exactly whom the hand belongs to. Only Seunghan would attempt to comfort her in a time like this, the others all too used to Joohyun running away from their touch.

“You okay?” Seunghan asks softly.

Joohyun is sick of everyone asking her that.

“You know we’re just worried about you, princess” Seunghan states, as if able to read her mind. “We just want you to be okay.”

Joohyun finally turns to face the man. “If you wanted me to be okay, you wouldn’t go.”

Seunghan sighs, rounding the couch to settle beside the woman. He gathers her hands in her lap, rubbing over her pulse point with his thumb. He looks tired, mouth twisted in a grimace that pains Joohyun to see.

“We’re going so that everyone can be okay.”

The couch dips on Joohyun’s other side, the furniture groaning with the added weight. A hand reaches across her lap to join the pile of hands in Seunghan’s, the familiar callouses a soothing addition.

“We have to be there for everyone, baby.” Wonbin’s voice is barely a whisper. “I know you’re worried, but you have to trust us. We’re going to be fine. We’re not going to end up like Jaeri.”

Joohyun’s tongue has suddenly grown to weigh one hundred pounds. She struggles to swallow down the sob that’s clawing its way up her throat. Seunghan squeezes her hand slightly, and it’s enough pressure to force the first few tears out of her eyes.

“I just don’t like this,” Joohyun admits. “None of us know what’s out there anymore.”

Wonbin presses a kiss to the side of Joohyun’s hair while Seunghan continues to stroke their hands. Something about the affection makes Joohyun feel like crawling out of her skin and running for the hills. If she could see through her tears, she imagines she would. She would tear her body apart to escape their affection if she could. But she stays, remaining frozen in place as the boys attempt to love her.

“We don’t,” Seunghan agrees. “But that can’t stop us from providing for you all.”

Back in school, Seunghan was always the provider. He would come to yearbook committee meetings with his arms stacked with sweet treats and individualized coffee orders. When someone had a particularly hard day, he would bring a smattering of their favorite foods, showering them in whatever he could to make them feel better. If it didn’t work, he would gather their hands in his and let them vent. Joohyun wonders how many times she had done this before, in a much different context.

Being smothered by Wonbin’s kisses was something that Joohyun was much more used to. When words were too harsh for either of them, they worked it out through heavy touches and steamy kisses. Even when they involved Seunghan, who was always words over actions, the couple had a hard time giving up their ways.

“Just promise me,” Joohyun manages out, breath stuttering in her chest. “Promise me that you guys will get out of there the minute you sense any danger. Don’t try and do any noble shit and stick it out.”

Seunghan chuckles, squeezing the intertwined hands once, twice, three times before he lets go. “Trust me, our priority will be to get in and out as quickly and as safely as possible so that we can come home to our princess.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Joohyun emphasizes.

Wonbin presses another kiss to her hairline. “We know you will be.”

. . .

Even though the two are set to head out at sunrise, Joohyun can’t help but let them spend hours pressing her into the mattress the night before. As they seal marks into her skin and love her body gently, her vision begins to blur. She’s unable to see past the sea welling up in her eyes, ebbing and flowing until it streams down her face in clear rivulets.

Her waterworks seem to trigger the same in her lovers, and soon all of their kisses take on a certain salty tinge. For a moment, Joohyun fears they will drown in their love. It would be a silent death, much like Jaeri’s. Unlike Jaeri’s, however, this would be a death that Joohyun would be more than happy to fall victim to.

When the three tire, Joohyun finds herself sandwiched between two warm bodies, both in a deep slumber. The syncopation of their heartbeats is enough to keep Joohyun awake and on edge, counting each arrhythmic beat. It reminds her of the sound of footsteps when someone trips. They constantly try to right themselves, but are stuck in an endless fumbling of limbs that hit the ground at odd times.

Joohyun’s eyes remain trained on the ceiling until a hint of light creeps up on the horizon. As the light begins to paint their room in a blue-ish hue, she turns to wake up the men on either side of her, suddenly shy when she takes in their nakedness. She watches as their figures bumble about in the low light, appreciating the stretch of their limbs and the strength in their cores. She reminds herself that she needs to drink it in, since this may be the last time she ever gets to experience it.

No one else is awake to send them off. Just Joohyun stands on the back porch of the farmhouse, barefoot and wrapped up in a blanket that smells strongly of Seunghan. She watches as the two boys check each other, making sure they have all the weapons and supplies they will need for the day ahead. When both deem themselves ready, they turn back to the woman before them.

“We‘ll see you tonight, princess,” Seunghan says with a forced grin.

He seems to hesitate for a moment before reaching out and pulling Joohyun into his chest. His arms are snug around her midsection, almost crushing her if it weren’t for the woman’s sturdy build. The pair part only a minuscule number of inches before Seunghan swoops down to press a kiss to her lips.

This could be the last, Joohyun reminds herself. Don’t enjoy it too much.

Wonbin’s eyes are wide and glassy when Seunghan and Joohyun part, arms twitching at his side. When he hugs Joohyun, it’s much softer, almost timid. He kisses her forehead before leaning down into a proper kiss. He’s never been the best with words, so he uses his mouth in other ways instead.

He doesn’t look at Joohyun when they part, only whispering a small ‘see you later’ before barreling down the steps of the porch. Seunghan follows him closely, looking over his shoulder just once to blow a kiss to the woman left behind.

Joohyun watches as their figures disappear past the orchard before bursting into tears, evaporating like the morning dew as the sun comes over the horizon.

. . .

“They should be back by now,” Anton mumbles. He has yet to stop pacing on the porch, arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Eunseok, just watches from his position on the rocking chair, swinging back and forth in a distinct rhythm. “They’ll be back soon.”

“You said that an hour ago,” Joohyun spits, fingers fumbling with the chain hanging from her neck. “Shut up if you’re not going to say anything that’s true.”

“Joo,” Shotaro scolds.

The woman just huffs at the mention of her name, not taking the scolding to heart. The others don’t understand. They don’t get how it feels to be stuck in Joohyun’s place. She was tricked into love just for it to possibly be taken right away from her.

She wonders if she ever really had a choice in the matter. She wonders if Sungchan did, or if he was tricked just like she was. When she thinks about the way Jaeri smiled, or the soft coo of her voice, it seems like a no brainer. Everyone was a little bit in love with her. Sungchan just fell harder than others.

For a moment there’s silence, the only disturbance being the soft thump of Anton’s feet against the wooden planks of the porch. There’s a soft breeze that ruffles leaves, tall corn stalks swaying in the darkness. If Wonbin were here, he would be playing the guitar, strumming a soft melody that would have Sohee trying to harmonize with the sounds of nature.

But there’s no melody here, just a faint crunch of leaves. Then, another crunch. The crunches grow more frequent, each one louder until they are interrupted by a groan. Joohyun is down the stairs and halfway through the corn stalks before anyone can stop her.

Their yells for her to return are nothing over the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears. It’s hard to tell her own footsteps apart from the ones approaching her, her own scrambling loud as she pushes through rows of crops. She can’t see through the darkness that surrounds her now that she is away from the house.

Joohyun doesn’t realize she has run into something until she is knocked firmly on the ground, winded from the force of the fall. Wide eyes peer down at her, a hint of white in the darkness.

“Baby,” Wonbin says. “Are you okay?”

“You’re back,” she breathes out scrambling to her feet.

She can just make out Seunghan next to Wonbin, the man leaning almost all of his weight on the older. He lets out a soft groan as he shifts his weight, seemingly unable to put any pressure on his left side.

“Are you okay?” Joohyun’s voice wobbles as she takes in the pained expression on Seunghan’s face, illuminated by the tiniest bit of moonlight.

“I’m fine, princess,” Seunghan rasps with an attempted smile. “Why don’t we just get back to the house. I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

Joohyun nods in agreement, instantly moving to support Seunghan’s other side. Although it’s only a few yards back to the house, it feels like miles as the three hobble along. It’s clear that both men are tired, Seunghan’s head hanging low between his shoulders. Wonbin grunts with just about every step, muscles straining with the additional weight.

Once the trio emerges from the cornfield, they are greeted by a cacophony of relieved cries. Eunseok and .Shotaro are quick to rush over, relieving Joohyun and Wonbin from their positions supporting the obviously injured boy. The minute the weight has been lifted from Wonbin, he falls to his knees, panting heavily.

“Fuck,” he pants. “We made it.”

Joohyun finds herself running her fingers through the man’s dark locks, pushing sweaty strands away from his face. She releases a shaky exhale, pressing her thumb into the soft skin behind her lover’s ear. Her stomach lurches as she looks at him, heart pounding wildly in her chest.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” she whispers, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on his hairline just like she knows he would if the roles were reversed.

When the pair enter the house, they are greeted with the sight of Seunghan laid atop of the kitchen counter. For a moment, Joohyun thinks she’ll be sick. But she takes in the lack of blood and the fact that Seunghan is talking animatedly with Sohee and the nausea settles.

She sidles up to the boy on the counter, instantly smoothing a hand down his arm. She glances down at his body, not noting anything out of the ordinary. It is only when Seunghan stutters out a gruff curse that Joohyun realizes that the injury is deeper than expected.

Shotaro gawks at the sight of Seunghan’s ankle after he wrangles off the younger’s hunting boots. The joint is smattered with a nasty collage of purples and blues, the injury pulsing as it rests in Shotaro’s hands. His ankle is about the size of a football, and Joohyun feels nausea bubble up in her core once more.

“What happened out there?” Shotaro asks, ignoring Seunghan’s hisses of pain as he pokes and prods at the wound.

Wonbin sighs as he drops his backpack in the ground with a soft thud. “It was honestly fine. Everything was going well and we got all the necessary supplies. But we heard people coming and started running and that one fucked up his ankle when we were hopping a fence.”

“So you did this to yourself?” Eunseok snorts.

Seunghan just rolls his eyes, not dignifying the room with a proper response. Shotaro smiles down at the man on the table, moving away slightly to grab an ace bandage from a drawer across the kitchen. Joohyun finds herself letting Seunghan squeeze her hand as Shotaro wraps the injury.

“Is it broken?” Seunghan asks.

“You know I’m not a doctor,” Shotaro quips back. “But it looks like it. I don’t think you’re gonna be back on your feet for a while.”

Seunghan lets out a groan that isn’t in pain for once. He turns watery eyes towards Joohyun, squeezing her hand for dramatic effect. The force of his stare makes the woman avert her eyes, but Seunghan squeezes her hand until she returns eye contact again.

“I’m sorry we won’t be able to go apple picking for a while, princess. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise.”

If she didn’t know any better, she would think the gag from across the room came out of her own mouth.

. . .

Joohyun ascends the stairs slowly, prolonging her journey to Sungchan’s door as much as possible. She felt her heart begin to pound the minute she was tasked to retrieve Sungchan for dinner. She desires nothing more than to not have to face the broken man upstairs. More than anything, she wants to avoid the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she has every time she is around him.

Sungchan opens his doors after a few knocks and a long pause, eyes sunken and red-rimmed. His lack of a shirt highlights the protrusions of his ribs, visible under the paleness of his skin. He sniffles instead of a greeting and Joohyun curses the sinking feeling as it begins to make an appearance.

“Eunseok asked me to come get you since dinner is ready. I think he made soup or something.”

Sungchan sighs. “I’m not hungry.”

Before the door can slam in her face, Joohyun sticks a foot in the doorway, cursing loudly when it’s inevitably crushed. Sungchan is quick to open the door back up, looking down at the intrusion.

“Eunseok said not to let you say that,” Joohyun blurts. “He said you have to come down, even if you don’t eat anything. It’s important, apparently.”

Sungchan lets out another sigh, rolling his swollen eyes. “Fine. I’ll be down in five.”

It’s more like ten minutes, but Joohyun counts it as a win when she sees his slight figure enter the kitchen. It’s Anton who actually seems the most excited to see the older man, immediately bounding over to him and smiling widely in his face. She’s sure that he’s saying something about being excited that Sungchan is joining them, but she can’t bear to listen with the warmth crawling up her throat.

Dinner itself is mainly silent, the group deciding to eat scattered across the porch. Seunghan is inconveniently using both rocking chairs, his injury propped up on the smaller one. The wind that blows has a hint of a chill, more so than last week. If Joohyun squints, she can see some apples dropping from the trees on the other side of the lake.

“Guys,” Sohee asks softly, his normally bright expression pensive. “We’re going to be okay, right?”

It’s Sungchan who responds, speaking from his perch on the railing. “I don’t know.”

“None of us do,” Wonbin agrees.

“But,” Shotaro interjects, ever the positive one. “We’ve made it this far. Even though we don’t know what’s gonna happen, we’ll get through it, whatever it is.”

Sungchan snorts, hopping down from the railing. Without a word, he leaves everyone on the porch, letting the back door slam behind him. There is a soft clang of the bowl hitting the sink and then silence, only interrupted by a gust of wind. Across from them, the corn stalks sway, moving in a rhythm much like Seunghan’s rocking chair. Back and forth, back and forth.

. . .

Seunghan is walking with only a slight limp by what they estimate to be Thanksgiving. He seems eager to be back on his feet, hobbling back and forth through the kitchen as he tries to help Sohee and Eunseok whip up dinner. Every time he moves too fast, or makes a sharp change of direction, Joohyun finds herself biting back a gasp. She grips the edge of her seat, constantly ready to take action if the man reinjures himself.

“Calm down, Joo,” Sohee giggles. “You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

A smile instantly breaks out on Seunghan’s face at the comment, rounding the kitchen island so he can wrap an arm around his lover’s shoulders. “Aw, is my princess worried about me?”

Joohyun’s fingers itch with the urge to punch him in the ribs. “Shut up.”

Seunghan leans forward to steal a quick kiss before parting to help the others cook once again. Joohyun hides her face as a rosy blush crawls up to the apples of her cheeks, trying to tame the zoo that has erupted in her core.

She’s brought back to the very first time that Seunghan had kissed her. It had been after a particularly nasty fight with Wonbin, where Joohyun wanted nothing more than to make him hurt as much as he had hurt her. What better way to do so than kissing his best friend and teammate?

She remembers how all of her blood rushed to her face, lighting her up like a stoplight. There was a pulsing in her stomach that wouldn’t stop, eventually giving way to molten hot desire as the two continued to kiss. As they progressed even further, Seunghan left bruises all over the expanse of her throat and chest, leaving white hot pain in his wake. She remembers pressing down on the bruises the next morning, marveling at how the placements were extremely similar to where Wonbin liked to mark her up.

She remembers how the bruises were still there when she and Wonbin made up. She remembers how he kissed over the bruises, darkening them with firm bites. When he whispered into her skin and asked her who left them, she was left to only answer truthfully. At the mention of his best friend’s name, Wonbin just pulled away, smiled, then kissed her harder.

Joohyun continues to trace Seunghan’s figure with her gaze, extra mindful of his unsteady gait. She’s stifling a chuckle as Seunghan flicks pumpkin seeds at Sohee when Shotaro comes rushing in the room. His face is flushed and hair tousled, clearly flustered.

“Guys,” he pants. “Someone’s here.”

.FIN.

Part 2

#riize imagines #riize #park wonbin imagines #hong seunghan imagines #riize smut #riize angst #riize fluff #we riize #written in the stars

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