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"It's the last box," Younghoon heaves as he puts down a cardboard box sealed with tape, the contents of it giving out a soft clink once it comes in contact with the polished floor.
"Mhm," Changmin hums out distractedly. "Thank you."
"It's the only thing I can do for you after…" The taller man begins, but Changmin tunes him out in favour of taking a deep breath.
The air around him smells fresh. That kind of freshness only going on a holiday and entering your hotel room for the first time feels like. It's clean and simple, and off-putting. The walls are pristine white, and so is the rest of the furnishing. The whole interior falls into emptiness despite being a somewhat filled space. It's got no character, no soul. Changmin scrunches his nose in discontent. It's nothing like him.
It's nothing like his previous apartment—one both of them shared together—and Changmin knows it will never be or feel the same. Not after the fire.
Changmin shakes the unpleasant thoughts off before they can plague his mind further.
"I can take it from here by myself. You should go, I know your shift starts soon," he says interrupting the other's never-ending rambling. Younghoon does that when he's nervous, and he's been overly apologetic ever since he's convinced the whole accident was his fault.
Changmin sends his friend away with a weak smile, it's not worth fussing over it now. It's just like the saying goes—there's no use crying over spilt milk. Moreover Changmin doubts Younghoon would ever want to cause him harm in any way. That's just how he is.
Changmin takes his time unpacking. Before he knows it the sun goes down and all the shining stars take over its course. Changmin's yet to put up some curtains, but that's a thing that can wait. All the work of finding the rightful places for his belongings striped his energy to zero percent. A yawn escapes him. It's good he made his bed right away, all that's left is to wash up and get under the covers.
Once Changmin's tucked in under crisp sheets, with a pleasantly cool pillow smushing his cheek, an empty bookshelf catches his eye. Changmin squeezes his eyes shut, the void space brings a lump to his throat that he just can't swallow completely.
With the darkness slowly enveloping every corner of the room Changmin lets it wash over his body, and his mind. And so the events of that fateful evening come back to him, licking the walls of his insides like a candle's flame. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it hurts all the same.
Changmin remembers walking up the small hall and seeing smoke escaping through the gap of their front door. He recalls unlocking it in a hurry and coughing as he inhaled the fumes upon entering. Once inside, Changmin searches for the cause of the fire only to see a red beam—completely unnatural in the light of physics—dancing before him as it leads him to his very own room.
Changmin brings an arm up to his face to block as much of the smoke as he can and follows the red light that upon closer inspection resembles a thick rope, swirling in and around itself. His heart stops as he takes in the state of the space he spent so long perfecting to call his own. The fire is having a blast, taking over everything in its reach as if it had a mind of its own.
Yet the worst is how Changmin can physically feel his heart break at the sight of his beloved companions of many years burn to ashes right before his eyes. And there's nothing he can do about it.
A huge construction of wood and glass is getting devoured, its inhabitants speechless in their tragic misfortune. Some of their little faces crack under the heat while others twist into unrecognisable mosaics adorned with black. Their hair and clothes, that Changmin made sure to be always well maintained, are quickly turning into nothing but a pile of debris.
But the thing that brings Changmin the most pain is the one companion he adores the most—a pretty little thing in his collection, one that would stand out anywhere, if he's being honest—a porcelain doll with natural golden locks, bright blue eyes and ruby coloured cheeks.
The fire seems to be pulsing around it, glowing brighter, eating at it, but with little success. It's as if the doll is holding out just to have a little longer. To exist with Changmin's eyes on it for a bit more.
To Changmin it feels like forever, but it could've as well been mere minutes, or seconds, before even his favourite piece has given up to the fire. A shriek escapes his throat and he swears on his life he can hear a faint scream just as devastating, if not more, as his.
The energy in the room seems to suck in on itself and release a strong gust of air in all directions, like a mini supernova. Changmin falls to his knees at the impact, uncaring of the scorching mess surrounding him.
All that he's ever truly committed himself to has been destroyed. The walls are shades of black and grey now, the bookshelf charred, and the glass shattered. His dolls massacred and the grief in his heart already overbearing.
The only unharmed presence left is him.
Cold sensation travels thorough Changmin's body. It starts at his cheek and goes down over the side of his neck to his shoulder, his arm, and fingertips. It picks up at his hip then thigh, and ends by his toes. And so the gentle touch akin to a cold breeze comes again, and again. Like the wind giving him loving pets. His body trembles with shivers, and so he awakes at last.
Changmin sits up slowly and sighs for the nth time this night. He's had trouble falling asleep, tossing and turning in his bed for hours, and now he's about to repeat the process again. He vaguely notices the bedding he's been sleeping under has fallen to the floor. Clearly the cause of why he's suddenly felt like freezing his ass off and couldn't help but wake up.
Just then Changmin feels a shift to his other side, a dip in the mattress. He looks over and almost falls off the bed himself.
There's a figure observing him closely. Their eyes a striking blue and hair blonde and curled. Their posture is serving no threat, and Changmin doesn't feel fear towards them. He straightens up and asks "Who are you?" But deep down Changmin knows. He feels it.
"I came back," it answers. "For you."
"Chanhee? Is this you? Are you really here?" Changmin rubs his eyes in disbelief. Yes, he does believe in all things supernatural. Yes, he did spend his years and quite a fortune to grow—now gone forever—collection of what you may call possessed dolls. Changmin also might've invested in some suspicious tech to communicate with the lost souls occupying the vessels, but this—this is a first.
"Why don't you check for yourself?" Chanhee puts his hand over Changmin's, slowly interlocking their fingers. "Feels real enough for you?" And the coldness is back, yet Changmin's senses interpret is as a warm embrace of relief. Actually, he feels so happy, he could cry.
"But—how?" Changmin chokes out.
"They all wanted to let go. Be purified. Move on. I didn't." Chanhee shrugs with a small smile on his lips. "I think I've used up all of my spiritual power to survive against the fire and follow you here. It wouldn't be possible for me to appear in this form if it wasn't for the blood moon tonight." He glances to the side, at the moon hanging high in the night sky. It does look different tonight. Its reddish appearance casts the prettiest glow over Chanhee's face. "I just couldn't bear to leave you," he says softly, looking back shyly from under his lashes.
"I can't believe this." Changmin lets out a laugh but it sounds suspiciously strangled. There's something wet on his face. He doesn't know how to keep his emotions in check anymore, and so Changmin decides to just let them flow out freely. "Is this a dream?" Everything's so blurry all of a sudden, but the arms that envelop him feel like a hug from the cool summer breeze on a hot day out.
"I don't have much time left," Chanhee whispers in his ear softly. Changmin reels back from the hug, upset.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't stay like this. In this form. I will have to find a new vessel to hang around," Chanhee explains slowly. Despite everything he's still got a smile on his face, observing Changmin calmly. "Don't worry, I don't plan on leaving ever again." And it's a promise Changmin knows the other will keep. No matter what.
"I was so scared."
"I know, I was too. I'm sorry, I couldn't persuade the rest."
"It's not your fault. I'm just so glad you're here. With me." Changmin can feel a new wave of tears forming at the edges of his eyes, and flowing down, down, down. Until Chanhee brings his hands to his face and erases the small waterfalls from falling. He leans into the cold, the heat on his cheeks letting up.
Just then a pair of pillowy lips presses against his for a split moment. Changmin lets out all the air stored in his lungs that he didn't even know was weighing him down. It's a tad weird, since Chanhee looks so human, but the chilly sensation spreads anywhere he makes contact with.
"Is this okay?" Chanhee asks, a little uncertain.
"It's way more than okay." Changmin chuckles.
And so they're kissing again. Properly this time. Changmin finds himself being pushed back on the bed with Chanhee towering over him, their legs a tangled mess. Goosebumps explode all over his body and at this point Changmin isn't entirely sure if it's the kissing, the cold or maybe just because it's all that makes up to be Chanhee.
Despite the frosty touches Changmin feels hot all over. Especially when Chanhee moves one of his hands down his side, where the smallest bit of skin got exposed by his pyjama top riding up. Chanhee kneads at the dip of his waist as his mouth gets busy working on leaving bruises down the long column of Changmin's neck. He can feel Chanhee's lips bend upwards when he shivers and whines at a particularly sensitive spot getting mauled by his teeth.
"More, please, I need more," Changmin babbles out, not exactly sure what he wants to happen next. Luckily for him Chanhee knows just the thing to satisfy his demand—he comes up to face him, an icy hand slipping past the waistband of his shorts. Changmin's mouth falls open as a moan escapes through, his back arching up. Chanhee's got his fingers wrapped around Changmin's burning cock, tongue sticking out in concentration once he starts moving his hand in slow strokes. It's a heavenly contrast; the unrelenting want boiling down in Changmin's groin versus the chill of Chanhee's grasp.
Chanhee kisses him hungrily, speeding up the way he's getting Changmin off. Changmin grabs at Chanhee's hair to anchor himself down, but one twist of Chanhee's wrist leaves him almost trashing out of his hold. Chanhee proceeds to sit himself down on Changmin's thigh to keep him from making necessary movements, and he too, lets out a grunt at the friction provided for his arousal.
A set of blue eyes akin to two flames observe with deepest focus as Changmin's face contours in pleasure. It's almost too much and Changmin's about to beg he can't take it no more, to stop, that he needs more, to finish.
Before Changmin knows it he's blacking out, a hot wave washes over him. It's blue all over, just like the heart of the flame. His head lolls to the side uncontrollably.
Once Changmin starts to come back from the high of his orgasm, he feels a cold caress to his temple, sweeping hair out of his eyes.
"Hi," Chanhee says with rosy cheeks and a satisfied smile. Changmin's heart does a flip in his chest, Chanhee truly is a sight to behold. Changmin may die, if he never sees him like this again.
"Did you? Wait—can you…?" Changmin feels embarrassed, suddenly remembering he was so out of it he didn't even care to reciprocate the favour.
"I can." Chanhee's face becomes as red as a tomato. "And I did," he adds, but he's not looking at Changmin anymore.
Oh.
Changmin looks down and sees a very telling wet spot on Chanhee's pants.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about. I just wish I was the one to—"
"It was you. Well, it was because of you," Chanhee says sweetly. Changmin wants to kiss him again. So he does, layering kisses all over his face. Maybe if he does so enough times it will transfer some of his warmth over to Chanhee.
"Next time, let me do it for you," Changmin says, interlocking their fingers again.
"Okay. Next time it is," Chanhee agrees easily.