Chapter Text
No one expected it to happen, not even Jongho himself. It happened before he could realize it was happening, he would've never guessed that his life would be cut short. He doesn't even remember how it happened, in fact, he doesn't remember anything from that day.
He just woke up.
Rising from his bed in his apartment, everything looked the same as it normally would, except everything seemed a little brighter and dare he say, wispier? It was almost like the walls and any solid structure wasn't entirely solid, it looked bendable and soft. It was confusing, he had no idea what was going on or why the world looked the way it did.
He didn't have his phone, his closest was empty and his personal belongings in the bathroom were missing. Even the Subway sandwich he had cut in half from the night before and put in the fridge with his name on it so no one would steal it, was missing. His first thought was that Wooyoung stole it, that little rat, it wouldn't be the first time he did either. They must be pulling some weird and well-thought-out prank on him. It was about time they did, with the number of pranks Jongho had been pulling on them lately, he definitely deserved one back.
But he noticed something weird after a while of roaming around, on the back of his right hand was the number 365, in black ink. He tried to wash it off, scrubbing it for five minutes with the special soap Yunho would use after he would come back from the garage where he worked when his hands and forearms were covered in oil and grease. If anything in the world could get the black ink off his skin, it would be this grainy soap that nearly rubbed his skin raw.
Only it didn't. The ink didn't even bleed a little after the intense scrubbing.
It was a tattoo.
That was weird. Never in his life did Jongho ever think or even want a tattoo. He must've gone out last night and gotten super wasted because there was no way he would do something like that in his right mind. On his hand? Why the number 365? What had he done?
But his head wasn't pounding like it always would. It was easy to get out of bed and he didn't feel like emptying his stomach into the toilet like he always had to the morning after going out. Sure his vision was a little, questionable at the moment, maybe his doctor was right about needing glasses.
He stared long and hard at the tattoo, running his finger over it as regret settled in his gut. How much did it cost to get these things removed? Jongho was sure it was not pocket change, and being a university student meant that he had no extra cash in his bank account to get rid of bad decisions he made while drunk. It was probably Mingi who convinced him, the biker of the group was tatted up heavily and if anyone were to be able to get Jongho to even consider the idea, it would be him.
He would have to have a really serious talk with the biker later.
But until then, he needed to find where his roommates were and make sure they were still alive from their presumed night out. He was rooming with San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang, and that combination might have been a little bit of a concern, but they made it work. It was a last-minute decision, Wooyoung and Yeosang being the last addition to the roommate agreement.
The roommate agreement in question was actually a physical document of all the rules and regulations the four men put together the night they all signed the lease, had it laminated, and hung on a hook by the door. Call it extra but that document was the sole reason the four of them ever stayed sane.
But that being said, even being the youngest there, Jongho was the only semi-responsible young adult male and so he took his caregiver position very seriously. Honestly, the three other men probably would be dead by now if he wasn't there, and so he knew he would have to make sure they were still breathing or at least help them to the toilet so they didn't get alcohol poisoning.
Expect the only problem was that none of them were home. It had to be early in the morning, with how bright it was. But there were no clocks in the apartment room and Jongho was about to go crazy because who in the world would think to take all the damn clocks away?
Each of their individual rooms was empty, beds made and the clothes that always littered their floors were also gone. It was a miracle of some sort, there actually was a floor to the rooms. Jongho had never seen it since the day he first moved in with San.
Speaking of San, Jongho couldn't help but wonder what the older man was up to. If all three of them were gone, that meant that something was happening. Had Jongho forgotten about some sort of meeting? Was their friend group getting together for lunch or something? Did he oversleep?
That shouldn't be the case because San would've woken him up. No matter how devil-like the man-child actually was, he was Jongho's boyfriend and still managed to have some mercy in his soul for the youngest.
Four years. Well, almost four years. Their anniversary would be coming up really soon and their friends always joked that they would be the first to get married once they finished university. San always said he would propose the day after they graduated, not wanting to wait a second longer before he would be bound to Jongho through marriage.
The youngest never really believed him though, but he couldn't deny that the thought of it made his heart race just a little.
But there was no time to think about that. They had to actually graduate first, and if Wooyoung kept dragging them out nearly every weekend to get wasted, Jongho would never graduate. Yes, he understood that it was their "senior year and they deserved to party for all the hard work they put into graduating". But, if Jongho ever wanted to become a pediatrician like he always dreamed of being, he needed to start scoring better on his exams.
It didn't help that half of their friend group had already graduated. The older half of them had been out of school for at least two years, securing good work jobs and then even opening a job of their own. Hongjoong opened up his own store, almost co-owning with Yunho. It was interesting to see how it worked, Hongjoong opened a garage, not even know how to fix anything related to cars. It was Yunho who was the mechanic, and he was the one that fixed things while Hongjoong took care of the finances and whatever else you did as a store owner.
The garage, called the Aurora Mechanics, was the group's hangout place. That's how they met Mingi, who was a biker and a part of a gang who came in to get his breaks adjusted. They spent their weekends there if they could, the younger ones would bring their books and try to study while the others cracked open cold beers and reminisced on their university days. They always started with, "when I was your age..." or "back in my day as a student..." and was always followed by grumbles and crushed cans thrown at them.
So maybe that was where they were, at their hangout location. Must've been a weekend and his sweet, sweet boyfriend was thoughtful enough to not wake him up.
Except they weren't there. The door was unlocked, but no one was in the shop. No one was even in the garage, it was empty, all the tools and oil cans were put away nicely. This shop was never, and Jongho really met never clean. His vision still hadn't cleared up and he started to briefly wonder if he had taken drugs, some kind of stimulant that was still in his system and hadn't worn off yet.
He stood behind the receptionist desk, flipping through the paperwork to try and find out what date it was. Except, all the dates were missing. There were no clocks in the building either, and the other concerning thing was Jongho should be feeling rather concerned. But he didn't, it was the lack of overall emotion that was surprising.
He just felt, present.
Jongho had no idea how long he stood there, shaking his head so hopefully the wispy world would return back to normal, but it never did. But he did hear a lock open, then followed by the familiar sound of the front doorbell ringing. Someone had entered the shop.
He saw Hongjoong first, the shorter, red-haired male putting his keys away into his coat pocket. Wasn't the door unlocked though? How was he able to get in if the door was locked?
Hongjoong wasn't alone, he held the door open for others to join him in the shop. It was all of the others, even Mingi which made Jongho smile because he hadn't seen the giant in so long. Something about a gang rivalry or something and it had been what he estimated at least a month and a half since he had seen him. But what was even weirder, probably the weirdest thing that had happened all day so far, was Mingi was wearing a tux.
That was a sight Jongho never thought he would see. Mingi's usual leather jacket with his dark jeans and white t-shirt was replaced with a black and white tux. It was such a different look, Mingi usually looked like he was straight out of the movie "The Outsiders", one of the greasers like Sodapop or Darry. His hair was even done nicely, not the usual slicked back look with too much gel that made his hair look wet the entire day, and was he even wearing glasses?
By the time Jongho stopped questioning everything he was seeing, too awestruck by Mingi's new appearance, he realized that his group of friends walked right past him without even saying hi.
What the fuck.
They had gone into the garage part, away from the conditioned room and into the boiling pits of hell where the cars and bikes would be fixed.
They all were wearing suits, most were casual black and white with a black tie or bowtie. San was the only one who was wearing all black with his blonde hair slicked back away from his face. For as loud as the bunch was, they were being awfully quiet. It was unsettling, someone should be screaming about something by now. But they were dead, faces tilted down to the ground.
"Guys," he spoke out, eyebrows furrowed as he followed in after them. "What's going on?"
No one looked at him, in fact, it appeared as if no one had even heard him. Hongjoong took off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the tool bench and sitting down on one of the spinning chairs, and put his head in his hands.
"Guys?" he tried again, raising his voice a little more than last time.
He thought that Mingi had heard him because the man stood up from where he was sitting on the ground and moved over to one of the cabinets above the tool bench. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of vodka, holding it so tightly in his hands that his knuckles turned white. The bottle still had a bit left in it, but Mingi spun the cap off and brought the bottle to his lips, draining the entire contents inside.
"Woah- hey slowly down," Yunho came over to him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder to try and turn the tall man towards him. But Mingi didn't stop, his adam's apple bobbing until the last of the burning liquid was gone. "Mingi, stop that-"
But the biker shook Yunho's hand off, nearly pushing the mechanic back a few steps before taking the bottle in his hand and throwing it against the garage door. The glass shattered instantly, spraying all over the place and the sound that followed was deafening.
"Mingi what the fuck?!" Wooyoung stepped in, his voice raised with his eyes wide. "Why did you do that?"
Mingi just clenched his jaw, a vein in his neck starting to bulge underneath his inked skin. For a moment Jongho thought that the biker was about to blow a fuse.
"Why do you think?" He asked, his voice seemed calm but it was forced and much deeper than it normally was. "Use your brain for once won't you?"
His eyes were dark, hands in fists by his sides. This was the gang member in him that Jongho rarely ever saw and he was thankful for it. He didn't like this side of his friend, and he knew Mingi didn't like it either. He was a gentle giant, not some scary person that people made him out to be.
Jongho could feel the tension rising between them, the way their breathing spiked and Wooyoung's eyes grew dangerous, he knew something bad was about to happen.
"Hey, hey, guys," it was Seonghwa who stepped in between them. Jongho didn't miss the way the oldest's hands seemed to be shaking as he pressed each of his palms to the male's chests to get them away from each other. "Let's just sit down, now is not the time to be fighting."
"Tell that to the idiot who just got glass everywhere-" Wooyoung spat, pushing against Seonghwa's hand.
"Oh, so I'm the idiot? You were the one who has been denying it ever since it happened!" Mingi shot back, causing Seonghwa to have to try and physically push them away from each other once more.
"That's better than talking about it every fucking second!"
"How is denying that is ever happened better than-"
"Both of you shut up!" Seonghwa shouted, using as much strength as he could to push the two away, both of them staggering back. "What has gotten into the two of you? This is no way to act."
"Don't even talk to me about how to act Seonghwa, you didn't even say anything at his funeral," Mingi pointed at him, scoffing a little.
Funeral? There was a funeral? Jongho tilted his head in confusion, watching the scene before him unfold.
"Okay everyone just needs to settle down-" Yunho tried to speak, but his soft voice was drowned out by the others who were still fighting.
"I had no idea what to say Mingi," Seonghwa spoke, looking hurt as his face paled. "What was I supposed to say?"
"I don't know hyung, anything? Maybe pretend to care for once?"
Seonghwa's face dropped even more, his mouth dropping open as his eyes seemed to water before he took a few steps away from the taller man.
"That was uncalled for Mingi," Hongjoong finally stepped in. The smaller man came right up behind Seonghwa, gently pushing him behind his own body as he regarded the tall biker with a stern expression. "Watch what you say."
"Watch what I say? Are you serious right now? How about you listen to what your boyfriend is saying," Mingi stepped closer, despite Yunho trying to talk softly to him in hopes to calm him down. Jongho had no idea what was going on, he had no idea why his friends were acting like this. Of course, they fought before, it was normal to fight. But nothing had ever been like this.
"Excuse me?" Hongjoong gritted out, his pupils dilating. "Say that again."
Jongho could see the way that Yeosang's face paled. The blonde man was standing off to the side, just watching the whole thing happen before his eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides, eyes widening as he knew as well that this situation was getting out of control.
"I said," and Mingi stepped closer, dangerously so as his voice dropped once more. Jongho could tell the biker was using his height as an advantage, towering over Hongjoong in a dominating way. Had it been anyone else, they probably would've backed down. But their group often forgot that Hongjoong grew up on the tough side of town, no matter his short stature, he could easily hold his own. "Watch what your boyfriend says. You're always claiming that we can't show favoritism, but you're always giving him the benefit of the doubt."
Hongjoong's eyes looked murderous, and Seonghwa's pleas that were whispered into Hongjoong's ears did nothing to help calm his boyfriend down.
It might have been okay if Mingi had shut his mouth then. But he didn't, his anger shutting down his reason.
"Mingi please-"
"No! Ever since those two got together- nothing has ever been the same. Hongjoong just because Seonghwa is sucking your dick doesn't mean he gets special treatment."
"Oh fuck-" Jongho heard Yeosang mutter, the man turning away instantly with his hands pressed against his ears as he quickly made his way out of the room and back into the main shop.
It was instant when it happened, Hongjoong leaping out of Seonghwa's arms and Yunho was too shocked about what the biker just said to even think about holding the other back, that Mingi leaped forward as well. They crashed together, fists hitting each other viciously as they both fell to the ground. They wrestled, both trying to get the upper hand. Both were strong and clearly, Hongjoong's past fighting experience was enough to hold his own against the seasoned fighter. But Mingi was bigger and he was stronger, it wasn't long before he had rolled over and pinned the smaller man under him, a harsh punch delivered to the redhead's nose had the sound of a bone crunching under it.
"Mingi stop!" Jongho screamed, rushing over to try and pull the man off of Hongjoong who was now really starting to struggle. But as he reached out to grab at his shoulder, his hands went right through Mingi. The youngest screamed again, immediately pulling his hands away and backing away a few steps as he held his hands in front of him.
What the hell was going on.
Before Jongho could freak out anymore, there was a loud crash on the other side of the room, successfully gathering everyone's attention and stopping the next punch Mingi had wound up for. They all turned to San who had thrown a large radio against a stack of chairs, the device shattering all over and breaking the chairs in the process. He was crying, his eyes bright red and puffy, his bottom lip bruised and that was the palest Jongho had ever seen him.
He immediately wanted to reach out and hold his boyfriend, to comfort him and wipe away his tears, and just hold him because San looked absolutely destroyed.
But San also looked furious, and maybe he was crying because he was so mad.
"Enough!" He screamed, the sound echoing throughout the garage, and immediately Mingi climbed off of Hongjoong, wiping the back of his hand across his busted lip. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You're acting like a bunch of animals!"
Everyone was dead silent, pale and wide eyes as they watched San pick up a hammer and throw it against the wall, denting the metal. They all flinched, but no one said anything.
"Does it really matter who is fucking right or wrong?"
"San-" it was Wooyoung who reached out to him, trying to stop him from throwing an empty beer bottle he had picked up.
But San ripped his hand out of Wooyoung's grip, shooting the younger a death glare as he threw the bottle to the floor, shattering it completely. Jongho had never witnessed San liked this before, he had never seen him this upset and out of control.
"Every single one of you better shut your mouth! Stop being so fucking selfish!"
He started crying harder, his sobs sounded painful as the new bottle in his hand dropped to the ground as he too fell to his knees, right on top of the broken glass. No one made a move to go closer to him, staying a good distance away but their expressions turned sour. Jongho saw Wooyoung sniff and look away, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes dry.
"He's dead," San croaked out, his voice cracking as another wave of tears ran down his cheeks. "Jongho is fucking dead and you are out here screaming at each other over the stupidest shit- what the hell is wrong with all of you?"
He looked up at them, looking like he was about to be sick as he did his best to force out the words he was trying to say. They all looked guilty, faces painted with regret as Hongjoong was finally able to get off the ground, his nose bleeding and dripping onto his white button-up shirt. He opened up his mouth to speak, but San cut him off before he could even say anything.
"Don't even try to apologize-" he spat, trying to wipe the snot from his nose. His eyes were dark and so red, Jongho didn't doubt that it was painful for his lover to open his eyes. "You have done enough. We- We just got back from his funeral for fucks sake! You couldn't even wait thirty minutes?"
Jongho was frozen stiff.
"Like-Like, goddamn you really couldn't - fuck-" San seemed to grow angry at the way he couldn't even speak properly, the words he wanted to say weren't coming out. He was in no condition to be doing anything, and Jongho was worried he was about to pass out from the strain he was putting himself through. "Just- Shut up!"
"Okay, okay-" Seonghwa finally made the first move forward, hesitantly, but he walked carefully over to the shaking man. He dropped down to his own knees as well, ignoring the glass underneath him. He pulled San into his embrace, the younger man too weak to push the oldest away, fell into his arms easily. "Okay San, we're done. No more fighting, I promise."
Jongho felt his fingers twitch, he wished that was him holding San. He wished he knew what the hell was going on- why they were saying that he was dead.
"He," San started, his face falling into Seonghwa's shoulder as the black-haired man rubbed his back as soothingly as he could. "He's dead- I won't ever see him again - I won't get to..."
His voice trailed off as he could no longer speak and it seemed it was a chain reaction because now Wooyoung had turned away, his back facing everyone but Jongho could see the way his shoulders were shaking, he knew Wooyoung was starting to break as well. Yeosang was still not back, he was never good with fighting or confrontation and Jongho knew he wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.
"He's safe San," Seonghwa whispered to him. "He's not in pain anymore."
That only made San cry harder, squeezing onto Seonghwa's arm painfully, trying to muffle his loud sobs.
"I can't fucking do this anymore," Mingi whispered under his breath, fixing his jacket before storming out of the shop. Jongho heard Yeosang's voice call out to him, and then the front door slamming shut.
It was tense, not like before. But it was still tense. Jongho was just trying his best to absorb was information he had been told, indirectly, but still told. It made sense why they were ignoring him, or why they couldn't seem to hear him. He was dead, a ghost, an invisible force that was in their presence.
How did he die? When did this even happen? Why couldn't he remember?
Jongho expected to feel more than he was at the current moment. He expected that he would feel panicked, scared, confused even- but he didn't feel any of those. He had been feeling a lack of emotion the whole day. He couldn't feel pain- not even when he stubbed his toe on the kitchen counter earlier. He didn't feel panicked - learning that he was dead, that his life was cut short. Learning that he was no longer present in his friend's, his family, his lover's life - would never be able to see him again.
Knowing that everyone he knew would continue on with their lives while he could only watch.
He would never be able to reach out and touch San's face, hold his cheek in his hand - to comfort him, to show him it would be okay - struck no suffering in him.
He just felt, present, and in the moment.
When Yeosang finally came back into the room, his eyes a little red and his lips chapped, Seonghwa had been able to calm San down by then. He had a cold, wet cloth pressed to the back of his neck, letting the younger man lean against him. San had passed out, and even still, his tears kept falling down his cheeks as Seonghwa refused to move him.
"How is he?" Yeosang asked, squatted down next to him.
Seonghwa pressed his lips together, clearly stressed but relaxed a little with Yeosang's comforting voice.
"He's- well as good as you can expect someone who lost their lover."
Yeosang sat down, and Jongho walked over, briefly wondering if they could even hear his footsteps. He sat down next to them, crossing his legs, and looked at the two conscience men.
"I'm sorry I left," Yeosang said suddenly. "I just couldn't be here when they started yelling like that."
"Don't apologize Sangie," and Seonghwa reached up and rested his palm on Yeosang's cheek, and the blonde man leaned into it. "How are you doing? Handling everything okay?"
"Doing as well as you are," he responded and pressed his hand on top of the older's hand.
Jongho turned away from them, looking over to where Hongjoong and Wooyoung were sitting over by the tool bench. Hongjoong had stuffed his bloody nose with tissue paper, he would've looked a little silly if he hadn't had a black and blue eye.
Jongho got up and walked over to them, standing in front of them. He waved, just to make sure, but not even their pupils dilated.
"Is it broken?" Wooyoung asked Hongjoong, referring to his nose.
"No," he responded, popping a few Advils and taking a swig of water from the plastic bottle before crushing it and throwing it away. "I've gotten my nose broken a few times, and this doesn't feel like it."
"That's good, do you need an icepack?" The younger asked.
"I'll get one when I go home."
Jongho watched them, he was quiet even though he didn't need to. He reached out, wanting to push Wooyoung's bangs out of his eyes and behind his ear but his hand went right through him, once more. But Wooyoung shivered, despite the hotness of the summer and lack of air conditioning in the garage.
"You alright?" Hongjoong asked, seeing the way Wooyoung shivered.
"Yeah, I- just felt a chill. Not sure what that was," the younger chuckled a little before closing his eyes and sighing. Wooyoung's body sunk against the bench, the dark circles under his eyes being even more visible this way. "Hyung, what do we do now?"
Hongjoong turned to him, his eyebrows furrowing.
"What do you mean?"
Wooyoung cleared his throat, "Jongho. He's gone- what do you we do now?"
"I haven't ... thought about that," Hongjoong was being honest, sighing out loudly and then sucking a heavy breath in through his mouth. "But I think it's best now to get San in a better state of mind."
"Let him mourn Joong, he just lost someone he loved so much."
"We all loved him."
"Not like San did. You know how he talked about him," Wooyoung's voice went soft, he looked like he was trying to keep himself together. "Just imagine if it was Seonghwa instead."
The older man turned to look at Seonghwa who was still holding San against him on one shoulder and then Yeosang who came to rest on his other shoulder. Seonghwa had both of his arms wrapped around them, all of their eyes closed.
They looked exhausted. Like they hadn't slept well for days.
"I don't want to think about that," Hongjoong whispered, pulling his attention away from his own lover. "We both are still in denial- I don't wanna think."
"Me either," Wooyoung followed up, his own eyes drifting over Yeosang's limp figure.
Jongho followed his gaze, looking between the two of them and despite the situation, he couldn't help but smile.
Yunho had gone out after Mingi when the fight had died down, but when he came back, no giant in tow, everyone couldn't help but hold their breath.
"He's not..." the mechanic started, clenching his jaw together. He had managed to lose his suit jacket in the process somehow. "Mingi isn't coming back."
"What do you mean?" Wooyoung asked, walking over to Yunho who was still standing in the doorway to the garage.
"I tried, but he's not coming back."
"How long?" Seonghwa asked softly, going his best to not wake the other two men on his shoulders.
"Like ever."
Seonghwa's mouth dropped open, his gaze turning down to the floor. Jongho knew that look, the oldest felt guilty. He knew Seonghwa, probably better than anyone else there. He would blame himself for what went down between Hongjoong and Mingi.
"Well," Hongjoong pulled the tissue from his nose and threw it into the trash can beside the bench. "We should get out of here, nothing for us here anymore. Might as well just go home."
He hopped off the bench, walking over to where Seonghwa was, and held out his hand. No matter how harsh, extreme, or mean Hongjoong appeared to anyone, Seonghwa had been the only person that was able to calm him. So no matter how upset Hongjoong looked, Jongho never worried that he would hurt Seonghwa. They were true soulmates, anyone could see that.
"Hey- we don't need to rush. Everyone's had a really rough day, I don't think anyone should be left alone right now," Seonghwa told him, but gently shook both San and Yeosang awake.
"San will be with Yeosang and Wooyoung," Hongjoong pointed to them. "You and I will be together."
"Yunho..." Seonghwa finally stood up and turned to the tall mechanic who looked the smallest he ever had. He hadn't said much this whole time, trying his best to be invisible. Jongho even turned to look at him, seeing the way that the man forced a smile and waved both his hands dismissively.
"Oh- don't worry about me, I'm fine."
He was the only one that lived alone. Besides Mingi of course, but he was long gone already.
"You can stay with us for the night or as long as you need," Seonghwa offered, not even bothering to get the okay from Hongjoong. "If you need to, you don't have to be alone."
But just like Jongho knew Seonghwa, he also knew Yunho. Tall like Mingi, but even gentler. He never put himself first, always made sure everyone else was okay.
"No, it's alright," he said softly. Jongho knew it wasn't alright. "I'll be okay by myself, but I'll call if I need."
"Okay," Seonghwa said softly, reaching up and patting Yunho's cheek. "Same goes to everyone, reach out if you need it."
"You too, hyung," Yeosang said from behind him, joining Wooyoung who was trying to coax San off the ground. "We know how you are, you don't have to be strong for everyone."
Seonghwa seemed to stutter for a while, but then he too forced a smile. "Of course not."
"Let's get out of here already," Hongjoong pressed, already standing in the doorway, seeming desperate to leave. "Glad I closed up for today, this place looks like shit."
"It looked like shit before everyone started throwing things," Wooyoung muttered under his breath, using his foot to gently kick a broken bottle out of his way.
Hongjoong looked like he was about to shoot a comment back, but Seonghwa whispered something into his ear, and whatever he said, it calmed the redhead down. Jongho was very thankful for that, he wasn't sure if anyone could handle another fight at the moment.
He sighed, putting his jacket back on to try and cover the bloodstains on his shirt. "Well let's just... I don't know .. regroup. I'll see you later."
With that, he pulled Seonghwa out of the garage and the same bell rang once, then the click of a door followed.
"Do you want us to walk you home?" Yeosang turned to Yunho. "It's on the way to our apartment, it won't be a bother."
"I was actually just gonna stay here for a little bit," he answered quickly, forcing another smile. "Maybe clean up a little bit or something."
"Are you sure? I think it would be good to-"
"I am sure, just need some time to clear my head."
Yeosang sighed, he knew it was a losing fight.
"Alright, well, I am just a phone call away."
And with that, the trio left. Jongho reached his hand out, wanting to grasp San's hand and hold it. He wanted to feel the warmth, his pulse. But he knew his hand would just go right through. He would never be able to touch him again.
Once again, the bell rung and the door closed.
It was only Yunho who was left, and Jongho watched the tall mechanic look around the room aimlessly. Even though he didn't have to, he held his breath, not wanting to make any sounds.
Yunho pressed his lips together, the back of his hand coming up and pressing against his lips.
Jongho had never seen Yunho cry before, and just the thought of it seemed so wrong. He was too pure for the pains of the world.
"You know I - I was always told that even after someone died," Yunho started, his voice shaky as he grabbed a chair that was not broken to sit down on it. "They have one year to uh- to be able to roam the earth before they had to leave for good."
Jongho squatted in front of the man, close enough to see his eyes fill with tears.
"I never really believed that, but I can't help but ... uh I hope that it's true."
"Yunho," Jongho found himself saying, watching the way the man in front of him seem to finally crumble without watchful eyes.
"Because that would mean you're still here with us," the mechanic couldn't help but smile, even though his tears were finally starting to fall down his cheeks. "That you aren't really gone yet."
Jongho wished and wished that he could feel. He wished that he could feel some sort of emotion. Seeing Yunho like this, one of his best friends, breaking apart alone, and he couldn't even feel a lick of sadness in him.
"Yunho I'm here," Jongho said, hoping that somehow his voice could reach him. "I'm still here. I haven't left you. Yunho I am right in front of you."
Yunho's bottom lip started to wobble, his hands shaking as his fingers gripped tightly into the meat of his thighs.
"I just- fuck I am so sorry- I can't even... can't even accept that you're gone," his voice cracked, words coming out in a strained breath and Jongho was worried that the man was going to lose his voice. He wanted to be able to pull him into a hug, to calm him down, and tell him that he was okay. "It happened so fast, none of us were prepared for it. I'm in denial, I can't accept that you're gone."
"That's okay, don't be sorry," Jongho spoke to him, his own face looking pleading.
"Don't be upset if I act like you're not dead, or uh, if I seem I don't c-care," he sniffed hard, and then proceeded to choke, coughing hard as he began to fully cry.
"That's- that's just the only way I can get through this- "
And whatever walls that the mechanic was holding up, seemed to crumble down. Yunho bent over in half, his hands in his face as he began to cry silently. It was that silent cry that burned your throat and gave a pounding headache to its victim. It was the worst kind of crying in Jongho's opinion, and for a fleeting moment, Jongho swore he could feel pain twitch in his fingertips.
"Yunho- please don't cry," Jongho tried, his voice just as pleading as his face looked. "Please, please don't cry. I'm right here, see? I'm okay, I promise. I'm right here."
But no matter how hard he pleaded, Yunho couldn't hear him. He couldn't feel the comforting hand that Jongho wanted to give him.
"I'm here," he whispered, closing his own eyes and trying to push as much of his warmth as he could to the other. "You're not alone. Please don't cry- please."
They stayed like that until it was dark outside until Yunho's tears had dried up and he was no longer able to cry. He looked like San had earlier, and Jongho's mind drifted to his beautiful boyfriend, desperately hoping that his friends were taking care of him since he couldn't be there.
Yunho eventually left, his legs shaking as he left the room the same as it was and Jongho wished and said a silent prayer that he got home safely.
Jongho was the last one there, still sitting on the concrete of the garage, the smell of oil and grease thick in his nose. He couldn't help but let his mind wander, trying to process everything that happened.
He was dead, he had left his friends. He didn't even know how he died, didn't even know what the day was. He placed his hand over his chest, desperately wanting to just feel something, anything. He wanted to feel the pain they were feeling, the loss, the guilt, the suffering. He would give anything to feel that way now.
But ultimately, it was probably for the best that he couldn't feel. Death had always been his worst nightmare, and it was something that kept him up at night. And now that it happened, he knew that if he had the opportunity to feel, he didn't even want to think about what would happen.
It would've been nice to have been able to say goodbye though. It would have been nice to have a heads-up so he could spend his last night with San and they could hold each other and whisper their "I love you's" before it was too late.
Closer would have been nice. On both sides.
So Jongho was left there, alone in the garage, thinking back to when Wooyoung said the place looked like shit. But to him, the place looked the cleanest it ever had.
Maybe this was the start of it, the beginning of leaving the earth. Things looked perfect to him, even if they weren't. He couldn't see the mess that had happened, couldn't feel fleshy emotions. This was part of crossing over, wasn't it?
Jongho looked down at his hand, the inked tattoo was still there as the moonlight shined in from the windows on the garage door.
364.