Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jisung doesn’t think spring is the season of love.

It’s autumn, without a doubt. It’s the way the warm weather starts to lower into the twenties, and then into the tens. His t-shirts slowly making way to soft cardigans, cold water to warm tea. The absolute need to cuddle with someone under the blanket, listening to the rain fall. It warms his heart only thinking about it.

And Jisung wants love, craves it, desperately needs it. But it’s not even close to autumn yet and the sun is on fire outside, and he doesn’t know if the world will end. When the world will end.

Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe when he decides it’s over.

He doesn’t get much sleep. Half of his time he spends thinking about all the love waiting to be spewed out of him, alone in this dreadful house. The other half he thinks of who will knock tonight. If he will finally let in the wrong person. Or the right one.

They’re calling them Visitors. Some people say they come from underneath the earth; some others think they have some kind of disease. Jisung thinks they’re death personified.

He had the luck and the curse of having an empty, big house. Left to him by the person he hates and misses the most at the same time, Jisung finds himself now trapped in a place he hadn’t called home in a very long time.

And he feels too lonely and too bad for the people who have nowhere to go, so he lets them come in. Even if Jisung doesn’t think it’s a good idea half of the time.

There’s a new agency called FEMA, short for the Federal Emergency Management Agency, whom have taken the role in managing the apocalypse. And because there’s nothing else to do than watch TV or dread his lonely existence, he checks on the news every morning for their daily program.

There are some signs to tell them apart, they explained. White, perfect teeth and red eyes are the things Jisung knows that could mean whoever he is sharing this house with could be his doom.

But Jisung has perfect white teeth because he took great care of them for a very long time, and red eyes because it’s been two nights since he hasn’t slept. Does that mean he’s a Visitor too?

Even if it’s daytime and he’s already phoned FEMA to pass the time, there’s nothing new to do. He checked the woman on his living room for any proof of what she is, but her teeth are so rotten that there’s just no way she comes with death on her hands.

So maybe he should just give in to the bed finally, trusting that she won’t kill him on his sleep.

There are sounds of dogs barking outside when he opens up his eyes.

It’s nighttime, that much is clear, because his house is engulfed in darkness once again and there’s someone knocking on the door. When he looks through the peephole Jisung freezes on his spot this time, because whoever is on the other side is different. Sinister. Deadly.

He thinks his smile is the scariest thing he’s ever encountered, but when he opens his mouth to tell them to go away, every single cell of his body stops for a second in pure fright.

“How are you!”

Jisung feels a chill travel through his body, but he tries not to quiver. He needs to keep his cool.

“What do you want?” Jisung manages to answer as steady as possible.

The man’s smile gets bigger, more menacing. “What a big house. Cool.”

Jisung gulps, clearing his throat to speak louder. “I don’t need anything.”

“No, that’s not right,” the man shakes his head, slowly. He takes a second, as if trying to take on the silhouette behind Jisung’s door. “Sooooo, are you alone?”

The question takes him by surprise, and he’s more than glad that he can answer no. He has a very bad feeling it would be terrible news if he said he has nobody home.

The man’s smile drops dead, and for a second Jisung thinks this is it. This is the end. “It’s your lucky day. I can hear someone humming inside.”

Jisung feels like he’s finally going to leave, that he can’t hurt him this time, but the man – creature – opens his mouth one last time.

“But who knows in a few days?”

The man finally leaves, and Jisung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He has a feeling the end might not arrive right now but, if he’s not careful, he might be the cause of it.

Jisung stands still behind the door, trying to compose himself by breathing deeply in and out. It’s not too long until he hears someone else knocking, and this time it’s someone that looks like he can somehow trust. And by somehow trust Jisung means that he could perhaps dare to open up his home to this guy.

“Too bad we are the witnesses.”

The guy seems pretty much human. Bald with a hoodie and a jacket, he carries a serene face and a backpack on his shoulder.

But perhaps Jisung thought too fast of this guy being rather normal when he only talks about his fortune, and when Jisung tries to pry things out of him, he only dodges his questions.

He doesn’t even want to come in, he says; he only advises Jisung to let in someone with a cat and then he leaves. Just like that.

At least he didn’t seem like he wanted to gut him.

Only two more people come by that night. A crooked girl and a middled aged man that he supposed were too lanky or too drunk to try and kill him while he sleeps. So Jisung slowly heads to his room, where his huge, lonely bed waits for him. He thinks about everyone that has gone through his door for the last days, the ones that he’s let inside, and feels bad for all these people.

If they can be called people, though, Jisung doesn’t know anymore.

🦷

The next day is as uneventful as any other from this week.

The cashier girl that he let in last night didn’t leave her place in the hallway closet where he last saw her, and that hunter guy seems to be watching his fridge from his spot in the kitchen table with hawk eyes.

Jisung checks on them, and he feels bad about what he sees. That girl’s teeth are as white as his and he doesn’t really like that. Doesn’t really like the idea that perhaps he’ll have to kill her, that perhaps they’re too similar to each other…

But that cannot be the case. Jisung has always been very careful with his teeth.

Even with the conversations that he holds with these people, the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind doesn’t go away. After a few questions he doesn’t feel with more energy to keep prying if they’re Visitors or mere humans, so he lets them be. Do even mere humans exist anymore?

Yes, because Jisung is one of them. He’s sure of it.

After watching TV like every morning, listening to FEMA’s warnings – it seems now that Visitors can show with dirt on their nails – leaves him feeling lighter. His nails are pristine after this morning shower.

But with no energy to do anything else and the TV thoroughly watched, there’s nothing else left to do.

Nothing else but…

Jisung goes to the desk in the hallway, where his father’s old radio is sitting, collecting dust. He grabs it for the first time in forever, and starts meddling with the buttons until the words seem coherent enough.

“Wh.. d… arsfl… l ve…”

Jisung frowns, worried there’s nobody else out there that cares anymore. He keeps going, twisting the buttons until he sighs at the clean voice coming from the speaker.

“Do you feel alone?”

Jisung feels his heart skip a beat. Yes, yes. He feels alone.

“Do you have nobody to talk to? Do you feel anxious?”

He wouldn’t say he has nobody to talk to, there’s people on the house. And he wouldn’t say he’s anxious, either. He’s more like ready to burst at his seams from all the emotions stirring inside of him that he cannot share with anyone else.

“Phone Roulette is exactly what you need.”

Huh. Jisung’s never heard of this before, but it sounds… promising.

“Call 891-533 right now and we’ll put you in contact with the perfect conversation partner for you!”

Jisung leaves the radio with trembling hands on the also dusting desk. He takes a couple of steps back, and unconsciously gets closer and closer to the phone on his left.

The perfect conversation partner.

This is it. Jisung knows.

This is what he’s been waiting for all these days, maybe all his life. He doesn’t know these people, but he believes they will put him through with someone that will understand him, no matter what. Someone that will listen to his problems and maybe hug him tight at night when the noises of wailing people outside don’t let him sleep.

Jisung is sure he will find his other half, with white eyes and clean hands.

It doesn’t take him more than half a second to finally reach the side table and grab the phone. He dials the six numbers he wrote down on a piece of paper, and waits.

“Hello. You’ve reached Phone Roulette. We’ll get you in touch with a perfect conversation partner as soon as possible.”

Jisung bites his nails, awaiting. Clean nails with his clean teeth. Slightly bleeding gums because he brushed his teeth too hard this morning.

“…Hello?”

The sigh Jisung lets out is probably the first genuine sound that he makes since the sun started to kill them all.

“Hello? Are you my conversation partner?”

The voice on the other side, masculine but light on its pitch, laughs a little. It almost sounds a little bit teasing.

“Yes, of course. Who would I be, if not?”

Jisung laughs too, because the stranger’s tone has a giddiness to it that is making his chest feel alive.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Why would you be? It’s just me.”

And Jisung laughs again, because he says it as if they’ve known each other for their whole lives.

That’s impossible, right?

“Well, I don’t know who you are.”

The voice on the other side giggles again. “I’m Lee Minho, it’s really nice to meet you.”

Jisung’s voice takes a second to come out, a bit strangled. He doesn’t know a Lee Minho from his old life, but that cannot be. He feels like this person has been with him for the past twenty-six years of his life.

“I’m – I’m Han Jisung, it’s really nice to meet you too.”

He can hear the smile on the other side of the phone, even if he can’t see it. It sounds like a beautiful smile, one that only an equally beautiful man would wear. His heart is ribbiting on his chest.

“Why did you call?”

Jisung gulps. It should be obvious that it’s because he’s lonely. That’s what Phone Roulette advertised, and probably the reason why Minho called too, right?

“Because I’m lonely,” Jisung admits, even if it feels a bit too difficult to do so. He hasn’t said this out loud in probably ever. “And I thought it could be the perfect way to meet someone new.”

The man on the other side hums, understanding. “Yeah, I know that feeling. I’m lonely too.”

Jisung feels the honesty in his voice, and it makes his chest ache. Sounding like someone that truly knows what being alone feels. He hopes Minho didn’t lose somebody the same way he did.

“I’m sorry you feel lonely, it’s been really hard these days to trust someone, right?”

There’s some rustling on the other side, as if Minho is moving around while talking to him.

“Yeah, that’s been the worst part, probably. But I feel that I can trust you, Jisung.”

And what is trust to Jisung, now? A gut feeling that someone will not try to kill him? The proof that certain body parts can give you so you decide not to kill them?

But everything in his being is screaming that he can trust this man. That he can trust Lee Minho, who is talking to him because he feels lonely too.

“I think I can trust you too. I don’t think I can trust anybody in this home, though.”

“Oh?” Minho sounds genuinely surprised. “You don’t live alone?”

Jisung looks at the closet door, where he knows that girl is sitting inside. “No, not right now at least. I’ve been helping some people out. The house is too big if not.”

“Hmm…”

There’s more rustling on the other end, and a final sound of some clinking metal and a chair. It sounds as if Minho was cooking.

“And there’s nobody in your house that you can talk to so they can take care of you?”

Jisung breathes out, the noise almost sounding a cry for help. “No, not really. I have to take care of myself.”

A second of silence. “Oh, my poor sweetheart, you shouldn’t have to go through any of this alone…”

The way the pet name sounds on Minho’s tongue makes Jisung’s heart dance around inside his chest. The perfect pitch and tone, rolling perfectly through his tongue. As if he’s made to be calling Jisung sweetheart from the very beginning of times.

“It’s really hard to do so, Minho,” Jisung murmurs, words almost a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

There’s the sound of a chair again, as if Minho is standing up. Jisung changes his weight from side to side, waiting.

“Will you invite me in tonight?”

Jisung blinks. Did he hear right?

“Huh?”

“I cannot stand hearing you be so heartbroken about all of this. Please, let me take care of you. I’ll make you company.”

And with those words, a single tear of happiness goes through Jisung’s cheek.

He knew it. He knew he would be the one.

“Y– Yes, please, come tonight. I cannot do this alone anymore. Please, Minho.”

“I’ll be there sweetheart, I promise. I’ll bring my cat with me, so you know who I am when I knock at the door.”

And then Jisung remembers what that guy said about letting in the person with the cat, and everything falls into place.

Meant to be from the very beginning.

“Okay, Minho.” Jisung gulps his tears. “Thank you, thank you.”

Jisung gives his address to Minho, and the man promises he’ll be there as soon as the sun comes down.

He doesn’t doubt that for a single second.

Jisung opens up his eyes the second a knock comes to the door. He almost trips with the rug on the hall with how fast he goes to check who it is, but feels disappointed the moment he sees a woman there.

She’s carrying a dead man on her shoulders, and Jisung feels his heart break.

The tone she uses to speak is laced with sadness and sorrow, asking to just spend the night so she can bury his dead husband in peace.

Jisung doesn’t have the heart to say no, so he lets her in.

He sees her putting him on the bathtub, her own figure sitting beside on the floor, mourning him. Jisung wishes he had such love for someone that it would hurt this bad to lose them.

A second knock comes not long after, making him forget about the scene. And oh, this time Jisung knows who it is on the other side.

Carrying an orange cat, Minho is surely the prettiest person Jisung has ever seen in his life. Sharp nose, feline eyes, and the most gorgeous smile this world has ever witnessed.

Jisung is speechless.

“Hello, sweetheart, I’m here as promised,” the same voice from this morning says, and it takes no time for Jisung to open up the door.

The second they lock eyes it’s like the world stops. There are no Visitors, and no FEMA. The sun is just the way it used to be, and Jisung doesn’t feel like vomiting every time he sees heads on poles outside his window. It’s just Minho in front of Jisung, and nothing else.

Minho’s eyes widen up for half a second, and then they rake through every cell of his body. Taking and taking, until Jisung is left with just a carcass and no soul.

“I knew you’d be beautiful,” Minho whispers, taking a step further and stopping right in front of Jisung, just under the threshold. “Your pretty voice definitely matches your pretty face.”

Jisung cannot help but giggle like a highschooler, feeling his cheeks burn with a blush. It’s been forever since he’s felt like this.

“Don’t be so silly. Anyone compared to you falls short on beauty.”

Minho smirks at his remark, but doesn’t make a move to come inside. He just pets his cat while he still eats Jisung with his eyes.

“Ah please, come inside,” Jisung eventually says, because he’s starting to feel too shy under his gaze. “You must be tired from your trip.”

Minho finally comes in and lets his cat on the chair next to the door, where it starts purring and making itself comfortable to fall asleep.

The moment Jisung shuts the door Minho quickly grabs him by the waist, faces so close that he can see the man’s red eyes. Poor thing, he must be sleeping terribly too.

“I wanted to hold you so bad since I heard your sad voice on the other side,” Minho whispers, and he’s now so close Jisung is sure will kiss him. He puts his hands on Minho’s shoulders and then around his neck, because he wouldn’t mind that at all.

But instead of closing the space between their lips, Minho chooses to hug Jisung, and everything stops again.

Them, holding each other like the most precious thing in the world, in the middle of Jisung’s entryway. As if meeting your beloved one after a long war, or perhaps just the embrace between two people that have been stardust together.

There’s no way he’s not going to be in this for life.

It hurts to part the hug, but Minho complains that he’s sweaty and that he would be really grateful for a shower.

And Jisung has to say that sadly that can’t be possible, because there’s a corpse on his bathtub for the foreseeable future. Minho doesn’t even make a face at that information, instead nodding and whining about his cat taking a run the second they were outside, getting his hands really dirty trying to catch him.

Jisung completely understands that, so he offers his sink to wash himself, at least.

Minho thanks him with the prettiest, pearliest smile. Jisung thinks it’s gorgeous.

The next morning Jisung wakes up with an arm embracing him. The only comfortable bed in this house is his, plus there was no way he’d let Minho sleep on the couch.

No. Instead, they talked the whole night and then they fell asleep cuddling each other.

Minho really matches him in all the best ways. He used to work in a cat café before all of this happened, and Jisung finds that the most adorable thing in the world.

Same favorite meals, but different taste in sodas and ice cream. Sharing favorite genres of movies and TV shows, but liking to read different things. A push and pull of what they like the most about the world, and realizing they’re just perfect for each other. Minho loving to cook and Jisung preferring to wash the dishes, filling everywhere the other lacks.

The sun is too hot outside for it to sound almost too perfect for Jisung, so he cuddles Minho closer. It feels just right.

They watch TV from bed together, and now it seems that Visitors have no armpit hair. And even if reddened and borderline itchy, their own hairy armpits make each other laugh.

The moment they get up from bed and open the door of the bedroom, though, their small bubble explodes. Someone has been killed.

They go around the house trying to find where the horrid smell is coming from, and they find the woman in the bathroom gutted on the floor.

It doesn’t disgust Jisung as much as he thought it would. Instead, he feels terribly sorry for her, albeit happy at the same time. She didn’t have time to bury her husband, but at least she won’t have to suffer anymore. They can spend eternity together now.

Jisung turns to Minho, who is wearing an unreadable expression on his face. They look at each other for a bit, until Minho nods and Jisung mimics his gesture.

They know what to do.

After Jisung shows Minho where the trash bags are in the house, he goes to search for his shotgun. His father’s shotgun.

He opens up the door of the wardrobe in the hall and finds that girl there, sitting as if she’s done nothing wrong.

Jisung asks to see her armpits, and she tries to avoid it, saying that there’s no hair because she did laser on them a while ago.

But how can a simple cashier afford such a thing?

The second Jisung rises the shotgun to her face, she starts to panic. She pleads for mercy, or to at least be blindfolded so she doesn’t know when he’ll shoot.

But Jisung won’t show mercy to a Visitor, to a creature that has taken away the last chance a woman had to say goodbye to the love of her life.

He just shoots her in the face, body falling limply on the ground whereas bits and pieces of her head splash against the wall, staining it forever.

When Jisung crosses Minho on the hallway carrying a couple of full trash bags with a small smile, is then when Jisung knows.

Minho will have his back for the rest of their lives.

It’s nighttime again when Minho kisses Jisung for the first time.

They’re just caressing each other in bed, the warmth of Minho’s hand making Jisung’s heart grow twice its size. He feels full of everything he’s ever wanted to have, finally letting out all of those spiraling emotions that he’s been bottling for so long.

And when Jisung decides to kiss the palm that is cradling his face, Minho closes the distance and kisses his lips instead.

It’s a fleeting one, almost as if Minho is scared Jisung will run away.

Where to? Jisung only has this house left. And he might have Minho now too, and there’s no way he wants to run away from that.

So Jisung closes the distance this time, and kisses Minho properly.

It’s a soft peck first, and then it’s a longer press of lips. A small question with the tip of a tongue, and instant relief when their tongues start to dance with each other.

Closing the gap between their bodies, so Minho lies on top of Jisung, the weight nothing like the horrid feeling all of this crazy situation has been making Jisung feel.

They take breaks to breathe, but Jisung wants more. He wants Minho to take him whole.

There are people banging on their door, and Jisung swears he can smell the slight scent of smoke coming from outside. But he couldn’t care less, not when Minho is opening him up with his own fingers, only to fill him up with nothing but love.

Love. Is this how love feels?

Is it love when Minho takes him apart in the sweetest way possible, worshipping every bit of Jisung’s skin? Is it love when Jisung can’t help but praise how good is Minho making him feel, tears running down through his cheeks?

No matter what, Jisung knows it is love the second they reach their highs together, panting and kissing. And he definitely knows it’s love when Minho cleans them both and embraces him to a dreamless night.

🦷

Jisung cannot believe how this nightmare changed to the most blissful, domestic life he could only have dreamed of. And it’s all thanks to Minho, who is getting their breakfast ready while Jisung cleans bits and pieces of another victim of a Visitor.

He’s pretty sure it was that asshole they let in a couple of nights ago, just to see if being a Visitor had nothing to do with how good or bad they seemed as a person.

Perhaps there is correlation, after all.

Jisung doesn’t even want to check for any further clues on this guy, but when he sees his red, bloodshot eyes, he doesn’t spare him a second and shoots him on the face.

Minho has pancakes on the table by the time Jisung is done putting the pieces of that man into a trash bag, happy to be eating something more edible than everything he’s been consuming for the past week.

They watch TV together afterwards, as always. It seems that there could be insects inside of the Visitor’s ears now, as well as, if taken a picture of them, it will show –

“Sweetheart, look!”

Jisung gets completely taken away by the sweetness in Minho’s voice, who is now holding Jisung’s old camera as if it’s something precious. When he catches the sight of the screen again for a moment, the daily FEMA program has switched to a ballet show.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen one like this,” Minho happily says, closing the cabinet where he just got the camera from. He takes slow steps towards Jisung, looking at it with the utmost care.

“Would you like to take a photo together?” Jisung suggests, and Minho’s face lights up even more. It’s so easy to make him happy.

Jisung takes the camera from Minho’s hands and places it on top of the TV stand, setting the timer on. He grabs Minho and takes a few steps back, so the camera gets both of them together.

At the last second, Minho kisses Jisung’s cheek at the same time the flash goes out.

When they check the slowly revealing photo, Jisung is extremely endeared by Minho, and a little bit caught by surprise with how happy he looks. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy before.

When the photo fully develops, though, some black dots appear on the background, and it makes Jisung pout. Such a perfect photo ruined by old, damaged paper.

It doesn’t matter regardless, because Jisung still replaces the old photo beside his phone with this one.

🦷

Days have gone by, and Jisung feels so much more at peace that he’s starting to get used to all of this.

Yesterday, they got the visit from that creature that came bothering Jisung at the very beginning of this mess. The presence of that man still made Jisung feel on edge, but this time he had visual proof that he wasn’t alone. Minho was right there, beside him, and his smile dropped dead. It looks like he will leave them alone for a while longer.

Minho truly makes him feel the safest. He’s right there when he finds another corpse in the morning, and he’s there when he’s putting limbs inside of black, plastic bags. He’s there when the FEMA starts prying people out of his home, to take them into quarantine zones. And he’s there when the chewing noises of the dogs outside are too much.

And that’s the thing. Minho’s presence has been making this easier, so much easier. Effortless. He doesn’t mind that there’s people dying in his home anymore.

He bothers about what happens outside, though.

There’s not a single night Jisung doesn’t see corpses outside with bullet holes from the safety of his window, or smells smoke coming from the houses nearby. It makes him rage in anger. Why would humans go against other humans when their main enemy should be the Visitors?

Jisung thinks the humans outside are way worse than the Visitors could ever be.

Minho, actually, asks him about it on a pretty rough night. Jisung can hear gunshots from far, far away.

“Sweetheart,” Minho murmurs into his ear, slowly caressing his hair where they’re embracing each other on their bed. “Is there something wrong? You seem especially upset tonight.”

Jisung gulps, and hides his face further into Minho’s embrace. The sounds are more dimmed this way.

“I’m tired of all the ruckus from out there. I don’t understand it.”

Minho gently grabs his face to look at him, softly leaving a peck on his forehead. “It will always be difficult to understand humans, darling. They always think they know best.”

Jisung closes his eyes, nodding. It pains him so much that there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I wish people would actually put effort into doing the right things instead of going around killing innocent people.”

Minho continues his caresses on Jisung’s hair. “Yeah, I don’t think the FEMA is helping much, either.”

Jisung completely agrees with it. Lately, all the FEMA programs reek of propaganda, whereas the radio is being silenced more and more every day. Yesterday was the last time they could hear proper words come out of it.

“I wish we could do something about it.”

This time Minho kisses Jisung’s lips, a soft assurance that everything will be alright.

“We will be, sweetheart. Just wait for it.”

And Jisung has no idea how Minho would know that, but he trusts his words to death.

🦷

Minho decides, a couple of nights after the worst case of house fires until now, to make Jisung a romantic dinner.

It barely consists of whichever edible food they had around that wasn’t canned food and energy drinks on their fancy glasses, but it’s not like Jisung has been that hungry lately anymore. He goes through the day perfectly fine without more than a few bites.

“I think you deserve this more than anyone,” is what Minho tells him when he sits Jisung on their kitchen table that night, the place dimly illuminated by some candles Jisung had found on the back of one of the kitchen drawers.

All the love poured into the gesture makes Jisung smile showing all his perfect teeth. Finally, someone matches all the amount of love he had to share. Minho is the only one that deserves it.

They chat and share bites without a single rush, because tonight feels special. It’s actually been three weeks since Minho came to his place, since happiness finally knocked on his door. Jisung truly has to thank those people on Phone Roulette someday.

It wouldn’t be the perfect dinner without Minho peppering his face with kisses for dessert, though, enjoying them until an unexpected knock make them stop. It’s been a couple of nights since the last one; the streets have been more and more empty as time has gone by.

Looking through the peephole, Jisung can tell by the sheer appearance of this man that he means trouble.

There are fingers and teeth hanging on his chest, wearing them as a necklace, as a trophy. He carries a rifle with his old hands, long hair almost making him younger than he is.

“I’ve looked through some of these houses…” the man says, disgust present in his voice. “This place is infested of Visitors.”

Jisung frowns at the severeness in his tone. There are some Visitors, that’s true… but infested?

“Did the FEMA give up on this place? Or just on this street?”

He doesn’t even know what to answer. Is this man just searching for trouble?

“How do you even detect a Visitor?” Jisung asks instead, feeling Minho close behind.

The man keeps quiet for a bit, until he opens up his rotten mouth to spew absolute nonsense.

“Prove to me you’re not a Visitor. Give me anything to examine.”

Jisung scoffs, and he looks at Minho with a confused frown. Minho mouths “it’s him”, and then Jisung understands.

This man has been the sole reason Jisung has been so shaken up lately. He goes around searching for Visitors as if he’s a vigilante, and then kills anybody he might think could be one.

He’s just a piece of shit.

“I have a shotgun,” Jisung deflects, gaining even more confidence when Minho passes him the gun.

“Do you? I don’t give a fuck if you have a shotgun. We’ll just shoot each other to death.”

Jisung looks at Minho again, a plead in his eyes. One that says please let me shoot him, but Minho mouths “not yet”. That makes Jisung sulk, but Minho instead signals his own mouth and tells Jisung “show him your beautiful smile”.

So Jisung gets closer to the door, and shows the man his teeth in all his glory.

It takes a moment for the man to react, and one second he’s staring with owl eyes, and the next he’s pointing his rifle at Jisung’s door.

“You son of a bitch! Fuckass Visitor, thought you could trick me?”

And Jisung thinks, what the fuck is he talking about?

The noise the shotgun makes through the door is deafening. There isn’t even time to hear rifle shots, because on the other side of the hole on the door lays the man lifeless, an oozing gap in the middle of his chest.

And finally, oh finally. All of Jisung’s problems, gone with a gunshot.

Jisung is still looking at the gaping door when Minho takes the smoking shotgun from his hands. He looks at Jisung the proudest anyone’s ever looked at him, and his blinding smile appears once again.

His tired, reddened eyes let go of all the tears he was holding, and he feels the lightest he’s ever felt.

Minho embraces him, repeating over and over how proud of Jisung he is.

Jisung gives the embrace back twice as hard.

It’s further into the night, after Minho has showed him how much he means to him, that Jisung makes a decision.

“Minho,” Jisung mutters into the room, his voice a bit muffled by Minho’s hair.

“Hmm?”

Minho looks up at him from their usual embrace, only this time Jisung is the one holding Minho. His eyes shine with the moonlight coming from in between the shadows, and it makes the sight the most beautiful thing Jisung has ever seen.

“I think I know now what we’re meant to do.”

Something twinkles on Minho’s eyes, and he props up to look properly at Jisung.

“Really?” Minho gets closer, pecking him on the lips. “And what is it?”

Jisung takes a second too long to answer, too busy reeling in the way Minho is looking at him.

“We cannot let humans decide who dies and who doesn’t. They’re all choosing wrong.”

Minho fully sits in front of Jisung on the bed, looking so delighted and pleased it’s bursting through all of him.

“Absolutely not, sweetheart. We cannot let them be death.”

Jisung nods and cups Minho’s face, returning the sweet kiss.

“We need to stop all the others from making their own justice. Everything should happen just the way it’s meant.”

Minho blinds him with a smile, still pearly and still beautiful. He gets up from the bed and goes around searching for his clothes, giving Jisung his own as well. He goes out their bedroom door and gathers a few other things, like canned food for their cat and the shotgun in the entrance. He leaves behind all their leftover canned food.

Jisung just follows him around, mesmerized by his energy and his happiness, making him feel all content.

In no time they have everything they need to leave. Jisung doesn’t even care that he’s leaving behind a bunch of people that he didn’t even take the time to get to know, even if these people will own his house from now on.

It doesn’t matter – it never felt like his house in the first place.

Minho takes Jisung’s hand as they go through the door, the night still shining bright. They don’t even care that they have to step through the vigilante’s corpse; he doesn’t deserve that kind of respect.

And when Jisung feels the fresh air once again, he feels like he’s reborn.

“Are you ready?” Minho asks when they step on the dead grass, eyes shining in anticipation. Their cat is following close behind, enjoying the outside world for the first time in a while.

Jisung nods with a smile, starting to walk down the path that leads to his house.

He’s finally ready to be what he’s meant to be from the very beginning, but now with Minho by his side.

Death.