Pairings: Hanchul, Kyumin, Kangteuk
Summary: After Seoul becomes infested with the living dead and the government abandons them; it's only natural that they realise hidden feelings in the midst of disaster.
intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | final
Kyuhyun wasn’t looking good. In fact, he hadn’t been looking good for a while. He looked downright awful, now. His skin was rubbery to the touch and pallid and clammy and his eyes were unfocused and pale. He couldn’t walk without Sungmin’s help, and he was becoming less and less responsive.
Sungmin wasn’t an idiot. He knew this was bad, and that he shouldn’t have kept this from the others, but he was in too deep now. He didn’t want to believe Kyuhyun was going to die.
And it sickened him still how stupid he had been, how he could kiss him. Kyuhyun obviously wasn’t in his right mind, he didn’t know what he was doing. But Sungmin did, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly what was wrong with Kyuhyun, and he still kissed him. Love is blind, Sungmin was stupid.
Did this mean he’d become like Kyuhyun, too? Like one of those things outside? Kissing an infected, sharing saliva. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn.
He’d managed to get Kyuhyun to the second floor before he asked for a rest. It was less of a question, more of a mumbled plea. He could barely formulate a sentence, his words coming out in murmurs and sharp gasps of air.
Kyuhyun was dying. Fast.
He was lying with his head resting on Sungmin’s lap, two steps from the top of the second floor stairwell. Sungmin combed his fingers through Kyuhyun’s sweaty bangs, brushing them away from his forehead and looking down the steps into the darkness.
He’d heard the banging not long after Jungsu rushed past them to traverse the stationary escalators at an admirable speed, shouting their names with no explanation. The whole door was dented in, several places shaped like fists and broken, angry faces. There must’ve been hundreds of them pushed against it and it wouldn’t be long before it came off its hinges.
So he’d gotten Kyuhyun out of there, slow as he was. It seemed he was losing him second by second. His mouth was slack and a small, cold rivulet of saliva rolled down his chin and onto Sungmin’s jeans.
There was a loud bang, a square of light from the top of the stairwell. Footsteps pounded on the steps, closer and closer toward where Sungmin sat, shoes squeaking around every bend until Hankyung appeared from behind them, Sungmin looking up at him and seeing a huge smile spread across his face.
‘Hurry to the roof,’ he said, ‘Helicopter.’
He left Kyuhyun behind, resting his sleeping head on the cold, concrete step he’d been sat on moments before, and followed Hankyung back up the stairs.
When they opened the doors it was like a punch in the face. It was so windy he almost flew right back down the stairwell, but Hankyung grabbed his arm and pulled him out onto the roof into the sunlight. A large, camouflaged helicopter circled overhead, the kind the military used. Dust rose from the roof in response to the breeze its huge propellers were stirring up.
Jungsu and Heechul were stood beside him and Hankyung, hands shielding their eyes from the sunlight as they looked up at the sky, huge smiles stretched over their faces. He found himself doing the same.
The doors swung open behind the four once again, but none of them noticed over the noise and the sheer joy of rescue. Youngwoon stepped out into the light and grimaced at the unwelcome brightness to his eyes. His head was swimming, but he was sober enough to know what was going on, what Jungsu had said, and what he needed to do.
From above you’d see the rooftops of Seoul skyscrapers. Some were empty and some, much like the one Heechul, Hankyung, Sungmin, Youngwoon and Jungsu were stood on, were painted. Words like ‘Help’ and ‘Alive’. Unlike the building those five were stood upon, all the others only housed the dead, and the undead.
The helicopter circled the roof, preparing for landing. Five men stood, looking up at it. Four were hopeful, one was furious.
Heechul and Hankyung waved their arms excitedly, hailing it down, shouts getting lost in the loud hum of the helicopter. Sungmin was crying. And as the shadow of the helicopter darkened the ground at his feet, he remembered something. Something important.
He’d left him behind. He was about to turn back for him when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and glancing back he saw a familiar face. Letting out a sigh of relief, he looked back at the sky. It was Kyuhyun.
‘Thank God,’ he smiled, squinting at the sun, ‘I was just about to go back for y-‘
He screamed. The Helicopter rolled onto the roof. Crimson dripped onto the grey asphalt. Sungmin dropped to his knees. Everything was so loud, the world span. The sky turned red and he tasted copper in his mouth as he fell onto his side, grazing his pale, sweat-covered face.
He could see Heechul and Hankyung standing in front of him, and everything seemed to pass by in slow motion. The way Heechul’s joyful face fell and twisted into despair, and how Hankyung’s eyes widened and his arms flew out to shield himself. The way he fell for what seemed like an eternity, a dart-like object protruding from his throat.
Heechul followed not long after, a roaring, muffled scream barely audible over the sound of the helicopter.
He couldn’t see Youngwoon or Jungsu.
Kyuhyun shuffled around in front of him, crouching to pick at the two lying unconscious and limp on the ground, but black figures ran out at him before he could take a bite, grabbing him. They put a gag on his face, a muzzle-like object. They pulled his arms behind his back, and he gnashed and wriggled against them, trying to bite them. They dragged him out of sight.
He felt a sharp sting in his neck, different to the dull throb in his shoulder. He felt fire burst through his veins, his heart squeeze at his ribcage. He saw black.