Chapter Text
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Two months later…
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It’s Autumn by the time Wonwoo and Chan finally settle into the camp. The trees have all but shed their natural green hues, now a kaleidoscope of different reds, oranges, and yellows painting the leaves. Its beauty is a stark contrast to the reason they even turn in the first place. The cold has swept through the land like a feather in the wind. The bitter chill hangs in the air, the temperature dropping even further with each day that passes.
The camp handles it well, making sure that each of its citizens is stocked with at least a couple of pieces of clothing to get them through the harsh weather. It’s much different from having to survive by themselves, fending off walkers at every turn, trying to find shelters to keep from freezing to death. No, this time, it’s much different.
Chan awakens to the covers being lifted. A cool air rushes into his nice, warm pocket, sending a chill down his spine. His hand automatically falls to his side in search of his partner, a frown pulling at his lips when he finds nothing but the warm, empty spot where Wonwoo once lay. Blearily blinking, his eyebrows furrowed, Chan looks around the room. The window is the first thing he sets his eyes on. It’s still dark out, the sun still below the horizon, but close enough that he can see the small rays of light that brighten the lower half of the sky.
It’s not unusual to be an early riser, especially considering their past of being startled awake, whether it be a human or a walker. Despite finally being safe, Wonwoo still struggles to rid himself of his prior survival instincts, hanging on the edge like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sometimes, he’ll wake up in a panic, immediately grabbing the knife lying next to his bedside out of fear something is still out to get them. Chan has done his best to try and quell the ptsd Wonwoo so obviously struggles with, but some things aren’t as easily changed as one would hope.
“What are you doing awake?” Wonwoo questions as he emerges from the bathroom, startling Chan from his thoughts. He gives him a once-over. Nothing looks out of the ordinary.
“Looking for you…” Chan whispers, the sleep still evident in his voice. Wonwoo takes the few steps required to get back into bed, settling under the covers and pulling his boyfriend into his arms. The warmth, once lost, now returns to Chan, the man unable to hold back his sigh of relief as he settles into Wonwoo’s embrace.
“Sorry if I scared you,” Wonwoo presses a kiss to Chan's nape, nuzzling the skin there. “I had to pee so bad. I drank way too much water during my shift yesterday.”
“‘S fine. Just wanted to make sure you were okay; you got up pretty quickly.” It comes out calm, but there’s still a slight waiver in Chan's voice, and he knows it doesn’t go unnoticed if Wonwoo's slight hesitation is anything to go by.
“Chan…”
The younger turns in Wonwoo’s hold so that they’re face to face, Chan’s hands coming up to rest on his cheeks, thumbs soothingly brushing the skin under his eyes. Wonwoo can’t help but sink into the touch, eyes falling closed.
“Wonwoo,” Chan murmurs as Wonwoo blindly places a kiss on his wrist.
As if instinctively Wonwoo knows what Chan is going to say, he does his best to try and distract Chan from speaking about it. But the youngest knows better, knows him better.
“I need you to look at me.”
“No.”
“Wonwoo—”
“No,” Wonwoo groans. “Because you know I can’t say no to you.” It’s childish. So much so that it draws a low chuckle out of Chan, but it doesn’t deter him; no, it only eggs him on further.
“Wonwoo”
“Wonwoo…”
“Wonwoo~” Chan pouts. He knows that if he’s going to get Wonwoo to look at him, he’s going to have to pull out all the stops.
“Jeon Wonwoo, please look at me,” He drawls out the last word, trying his best to sound as cute as possible, a trait that Wonwoo is undoubtedly susceptible to. The older man scrunches his face one last time before he blinks his eyes open. It’s hard, and Chan knows Wonwoo is trying his best not to make eye contact with him, but, like he always does, he gives in.
There’s a moment where their eyes meet, Wonwoo staring at his face, seemingly entranced by him. His gaze holds a lot of weight, especially in the way that he stares at Chan, such a fond expression overtaking his face. Wonwoo’s eyes soften in a way that’s reserved only for Chan, an unspoken confession of love, every single time.
“How is it that you get even prettier as more time passes?” Wonwoo asks incredulously, tucking a piece of hair behind Chan's ear. The younger can’t help but feel his face heat up at the sudden compliment.
“I don’t.”
“You do,” Wonwoo quips, leaving a beat of silence before he adds, “At least to me, you do.”
Chan feels his heart skip a beat. Wonwoo looks at him with such sincerity his whole body aches because of it. “Wonwoo, you know that I care for you, right? I just want to see you okay…”
Wonwoo sighs and presses another kiss to Chan's wrist, his lips lingering on his skin, “I know you do, love. I promise you that the next time I have another episode, I’ll be sure to wake you.”
Chan scoots impossibly closer to Wonwoo, holding his face in his hands. Their lips are almost centimeters apart, Wonwoo’s gaze flicking downward ever so briefly and then back up. Eye to eye, the tension between them hangs in the air, unsaid words lingering.
Promise?
Chan doesn’t need to say it. Wonwoo knows. He always knows.
Wonwoo grabs at the chain dangling around his lover's neck, bringing it up to his lips, eyes never leaving Chan’s own. He places a delicate kiss on the band that hangs off it, his silent response to Chan’s question. It means forever. It’ll always be there forever.
I promise.
Wonwoo lets the chain slip from his fingers, the jewelry falling right back into the crease of Chan’s skin. The glimpse of skin peeking out of his hoodie, paired with the glimmering gold band, sets off something primal in Wonwoo. He takes that last sliver of resolve and throws it out the window, enveloping Chan's lips with his own. The sheer force of the kiss elicits a squeak from Chan which Wonwoo immediately swallows up.
Chan lets himself give in, so easily submitting himself to the hands of his lover. It isn’t hard when it's Wonwoo who takes anything that Chan is willing to give. He kisses him like tonight is their last, not lacking in the warmth and love he has to show Chan.
“W-wonwoo…” Chan gasps as the man moves from his lips to his jaw, kissing his way down the skin. He latches onto a particularly sensitive spot just next to his pulse point, kissing and laving his tongue against the smooth skin, drawing a long moan out of Chan. His hands come up to bury themselves in Wonwoo’s hair, tugging the locks as his lover continues his harsh ministrations on his neck.
Once Wonwoo feels particularly satisfied with his work, he places a delicate kiss on the mark, lips just ghosting the surface. He trails more kisses down Chan's naked chest and takes one nipple into his mouth, hand coming up to twist the other. His chest has always been sensitive, even before the transition his body underwent, having to live in survival mode. Wonwoo knows it all too well, taking every opportunity they have when they’re intimate to tease, lick, and torture his poor nipples.
Wonwoo takes the nub into his teeth and tugs ever so slightly, making sure to make eye contact with Chan as he does it. The sensation has him arching his back, head lolling against the sheets, “T-too too much, it’s too much ah- Wonwoo!” Chan whines, but Wonwoo pays him no mind, moving his lips to the opposite side and doing the same thing, relishing in the way Chan's cries echo throughout the room. Wonwoo doesn’t let up, however, sucking and laving just as much as he was before.
“Can you come like this?” It’s a tease. He knows Chan could come like this.
“N-no hnn no please d-don't wanna come like this,” Chan’s voice is already wrecked, a whiny tone to it. If it was possible for Wonwoo's eyes to darken even further, Chan was watching it right in front of him. Wonwoo looks at him with an almost carnal look, one that looks like it would devour him whole.
He pulls away from Chan, the latter whining immediately from the loss of contact. It makes Wonwoo chuckle, “Thought you wanted me to stop?”
Chan doesn’t answer at first. No, he raises his hand and rubs it down Wonwoo’s arm, a soft, loving touch, nothing sexual to it. He moves it further up, brushing against his chest, then his neck, and up to his face.
“Don’t care, just want you,” Chan admits, the confession hanging in the air. Wonwoo’s gaze visibly softens, but it also ignites something in him, the man lunging forward to capture Chan’s lips in another long kiss. This time, however, Wonwoo doesn’t go fast or attempt to go any further than lazily making out. No, he takes his time, moving and twisting his head with Chan, his hand coming up to brush against his side. His fingers hook into the side of Chan’s sweatpants, slowly dragging them down his hips.
Chan slightly pulls back, pecking Wonwoo’s lips once, twice, “We-” He pants as Wonwoo steals another kiss from him. “We have to g-get ready soon.”
“No,” Wonwoo responds, still kissing at biting at Chan's lip. The younger chooses to indulge him, letting himself savor their fleeting moment together. He moves his mouth against Wonwoo’s, this time choosing to make it more intense. A last hurrah, if you will.
They continue making out, the sun now slowly rising over the horizon, filtering in through the window. Again, Wonwoo tries to pull his pants down, but Chan places a hand on his wrist, yanking himself away from the older man.
“No, Wonwoo, we-” His hand brushes against the front of Chan's pants, the man shivering from the contact.
Given the option, Wonwoo would spend all day in bed. He’d have Chan laid back against the light blue sheets, naked, pale skin littered with love bites. Wonwoo would fuck him gently at first, really showing Chan how much he loves him, exploring every inch of him, and then once Chan came, he’s sure he would probably fuck him on every possible surface of this tiny apartment.
But the reality of it all is that they can’t roll around in bed all day. Wonwoo can’t fuck him every way possible, and they can’t be doing this right now, not if they want to keep their spot in the camp. So, as much as he really doesn’t want to, Chan pulls away again, a pout forming on Wonwoo’s lips.
Chan rolls his eyes, “Wonwoo, we need to start getting ready soon. If we’re late, Mingi will have our heads.” That comment makes Wonwoo groan.
“Can we not talk about Mingi when I’m trying to seduce you?”
“There will be no seducing. We need to get ready.”
Wonwoo stares at him, the pout not leaving his face. But Chan can see a cheeky glint in his eye, like the wheels in his head are turning.
“Can I eat you out, at least?” Wonwoo asks, eyes sparkling despite the raunchy question he just asked.
Chan splutters, “Jeon Wonwoo!”
“That wasn’t a no!”
Chan lets out a groan, burying his face in his hands. His boyfriend is insufferable. He peeks at Wonwoo from the tops of his fingers, “Can you make it fast?” Which only makes Wonwoo grin, something mischievous.
“I’ll have you coming in five minutes.”
Wonwoo stares at him very expectantly, and while Chan isn’t susceptible to his begging antics the way Chan is to him, he also can’t deny that he’s probably equally as pent up as his boyfriend. Chan mentally weighs the pros and cons; even though his mind is already made up, he needs to at least seem like there’s much of a decision to be made here. Finally, with a faux sigh, he nods his head. “Fine. But make it fast.”
And the face Wonwoo makes is one like a child getting a piece of candy, “You’re gonna be in for the ride of your life, baby.” He wastes no time hooking his fingers back into Chan's pants, shucking both them and his underwear down his legs. He fully removes the pieces of clothing, tossing them somewhere to the side. His cock still hides just under the hem of his shirt, hissing as the fabric brushes against it.
“Sensitive are we?” Wonwoo teases, tapping his leg.
As if on cue, Chan spread his legs to let Wonwoo in. The man immediately slides between them, snaking his arms around Chan’s thighs to pull him closer. Wonwoo looks at him for a moment, cheek pressed against the skin of Chan’s leg, looking at him with adoration.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Chan laughs. He smooths down the top of Wonwoo’s hair, running a hand through his dark locks. “You know, for someone who promised me they’d be fast, you’re sure taking your sweet time.”
Wonwoo quirks a brow at the challenge. He turns his head and bites down on the meat of Chan’s thigh, pulling a pained moan from the man. Satisfied, Wonwoo laves at the mark with his tongue.
“Mine,” Wonwoo states, lowering his tone. There’s something possessive to it, almost animalistic. He kisses up Chan's thigh, inching higher and higher until his nose brushes the end of the shirt. He doesn’t say anything, moving his hand to lift the offending piece of fabric, Chan’s painfully hard cock now freed, precum gathering at the tip.
“You’re so hard already…” Wonwoo murmurs, dragging his finger from the base. Chan hisses and swats his hand away.
“Wonwoo,” Chan warns. He’s all for foreplay, but not if it means he has to face the wrath of a very tall, angry man. Thankfully, Wonwoo heeds his words this time and moves his head lower face now, even with Chan’s ass.
“God, I could stare at your ass all day long…” Wonwoo uses his hands to spread Chan’s cheeks, his thumb coming up to brush over his hole. From above him, Chan’s breath hitches, the sensitivity and time affecting him all at once. They try to be as sexually active as they can, time and job permitting, but after doing runs all day and staying awake all night to keep guard, it’s hard to keep up with it. Either Chan is exhausted, or Wonwoo is exhausted, and even if they’re really horny, sometimes all they can end up doing is giving each other messy handjobs before passing out.
Wonwoo leans forward and licks a stripe over his hole, grinning against the skin as he feels Chan shudder. He buries his face in between his cheeks and begins lapping at it without much warning, Chan’s mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Chan tries to move his hips down to meet Wonwoo’s tongue, but the older man grips his hips, keeping him from moving much at all.
“A-ah fuck, Wonwoo,” Chan moans, throwing his head back.
Wonwoo alternates between licking and sucking to fucking Chan with his tongue. The sensation of it is so overwhelming Chan can barely form a coherent thought aside from tiny whimpers and gasps. This is the part of sex Chan has always loved; He loves the way Wonwoo eats him out like a starved man, the way that his thighs tremble as he feels that pressure build and build. His boyfriend makes him feel like his soul is leaving his body each and every time, and Chan loves it. If he had to choose a way to go out all he knows is he would want to experience this one last time.
Wonwoo pulls himself away from Chan who whines from the loss of contact.
“Wha-”
“Sit on my face,” Wonwoo says. He’s out of breath, his face shining slick with spit. He looks like a wet dream, Chan’s wet dream. Chan doesn’t even argue; he scrambles forward as Wonwoo lays down, motioning for him to come over. He makes his way to Wonwoo, crawling up and over him. He puts his knees on the other side of Wonwoo’s face, thighs still shaking from just moments ago. Chan hovers above him with hesitation. This isn’t something that they do very often, more so out of fear than lack of want.
But Wonwoo doesn’t care. He grips Chan's hips and yanks his body down so Chan’s ass is flat against his face. True to his word, he wastes no time getting started, fucking Chan with his tongue. A loud moan rips from Chan's mouth, bringing his hand up to bite at the skin. They don’t need the whole floor to hear them.
Chan pushes his hips down to meet his thrusts, already feeling that familiar heat coil in his stomach. He’s not surprised, considering how much Wonwoo has been teasing him for the past hour.
The sounds echoing in the room are sinful; Wonwoos slurping and Chan’s moans meshing together to create a symphony of sex. It doesn’t take long before Chan's hips stutter as he gets closer to his releases, thighs shaking as the tightness builds. Gripping his hips, Wonwoo pulls him down particularly hard on his tongue, and that’s all it takes for Chan to come undone, his mouth falling open with a high whimper. He lets himself fall to the side, chest heaving from the sheer force of his orgasm.
Wonwoo turns to look at him, face red and even more slick than it was earlier, shining in the sunlight, “Feel good?” And Chan can’t even find the energy to respond, too blissed out to care. They lay side by side, gathering their thoughts when something registers to Chan, his eyes widening.
“Wonwoo you-”
“Don’t worry about it.” It comes out a tad bit pathetic, and it very quickly occurs to Chan what happened, a knowing grin sneaking its way onto his lips.
“Think we’ll make it on time?” Chan finally asks after he’s had a second to catch his breath.
“Yeah, I think so.”
-
“You’re late,” Mingi says pointedly, eyes narrowing at them. He’s already ready for their run, a tattered green bag slung over his shoulder, gun already in its holster on his thigh. If his facial expression wasn’t already enough to let them know he’s pissed, the crossed arms and the scowl also gracing his face convey it quite well.
Chan ducks his head out of embarrassment, hoping that Mingi can’t see the way Wonwoo ravished his neck. It’s cold enough that he was able to put on his winter coat, but it still does little to cover the dark purple bruise just under his jaw.
Clearing his throat, Wonwoo steps ahead of him, “Sorry about that, Mingi. We got a little bit of a late start this morning. It won’t happen again.”
Despite his apology, it does little to deter the annoyance on the blonde’s face, “And by a late start, you mean you were ravishing my archer?” His eyes flick from Chan's face to his neck. The younger feels his cheeks heat up, his hand coming to cover the bruise.
Yunho comes up from behind Mingi, elbowing him in the ribs, eliciting a hiss from the younger man, “Ow! Yu, what was that for?”
Stocking something in his backpack, Yunho rolls his eyes, “Leave poor Chan alone. You act as if we haven’t been on the receiving end of a very similar situation, hypocrite,” Yunho finishes his sentence with a smirk, which causes Mingi to whack him in the chest back in retaliation, pink now dusting his cheeks.
“You aren’t supposed to tell them that!”
Yunho simply shrugs.
“I think it’s only fair considering they haven’t been here as long as we have. Plus, you’re giving them as hard of a time as Yeji gave you, and as your husband, it’s my job to humble you.”
It’s somewhat satisfying for Chan to see the younger be given a taste of his own medicine, a smile tugging at his lips. The couple continues to bicker amongst each other, so Chan takes this opportunity to go and get some supplies for his pack.
The camp storage isn’t as big as some would think it is. In reality, it’s a few bookcases shoved in an old break room filled with different medical and survival supplies. The stuff is surprisingly not locked up as tight as Chan initially expected. It only took a couple of weeks before Wonwoo was granted permission, Chan following soon after. Still, he supposes that’s why the both of them were interviewed so thoroughly before they were even allowed to enter.
There’s a speck of humanity to it. Making sure people are non-threatening and sane so they can come into this modern-day ‘utopia’ where actually bestowing trust upon people isn’t a dead practice left to the memory of those who lived it, but comparable to saving it from extinction. After all, these people haven’t given Chan any reason for him not to trust anyone in the camp, and it somewhat comforts him to know that they feel the same way.
“Is there anything specific we need?” Wonwoo asks, opening his bag. Chan briefly glances at the contents of his stuff before glancing into Wonwoos.
“I don’t think I need anything aside from a couple of bandages to have in the bag, just in case. I haven’t restocked them since the accident at the high school last month.” It was a terrible situation where Chan sliced his arm on a door frame, trying to run from a walker. The wound, while no longer painful or a threat, left an ugly mark on him, no doubt already in the process of scarring.
“It’s been that long since you’ve been on a run?” Wonwoo quirks a brow.
Chan sighs as he grabs some bandages from the shelf, “Well, Soobin wouldn’t clear me for the first couple of weeks to keep me from getting it infected, and I guess they’ve just had me on more laid-back chores since then.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Wonwoo adds. It’s an attempt to make Chan feel better about it, but there was never a problem to begin with.
“Oh, trust me,” Chan laughs. “Being able to have the luxury of staying back at the nice, warm base to recover or going out to deal with the living dead? I think we know my stance on that choice.”
Wonwoo joins in, a chuckle coming from his lips, “It’s weird we can even say that?”
“What?”
“That we have a choice. Because for the longest time, we didn’t. If you or I got hurt, we’d just have to keep on going.” There’s a distant look in his eyes, and Chan thinks back to their conversation this morning. All the things that Wonwoo said, everything he’s been saying, Chan wonders if it’s finally starting to hit him that they’ve actually found a place where they can be safe— a place they can call home.
“Yeah,” Chan hums. “It is crazy. But at the same time, it’s something that I never thought we would experience again.”
“Choices?”
“Safety.”
The word hangs in the air, and Chan can see the wheels turning in Wonwoo’s head. A moment passes before a smile pulls at the corner of his lips, “Yeah, safety.” There’s a strange feeling that settles around them; Chan knows that Wonwoo feels it too, the way he leaves his bag, gravitating towards him. Wonwoo’s hand comes out to reach for him, just brushing against the skin on his cheek.
“If you two are fucking in the supply closet, I swear to god—” Mingi’s threatening voice echoes through into the room, and Chan all but jumps back from his boyfriend. Wonwoo shoots a glare at the door before grabbing Chan by the front straps of his backpack and pulling him into a searing kiss. The sudden action makes Chan freeze momentarily, but when he realizes what’s going on, he kisses back, arms coming to wind around Wonwoos neck as he moves his lips against his.
Wonwoo is the first to pull away, fixing his glasses as he does, his lips slick despite their kiss being so short. If they weren’t going on a run, then Chan would say screw all their responsibilities and let his boyfriend fuck him against the storage room shelves. But, alas, Mingi would probably have his head for that.
The thrum of adrenaline doesn’t go away, even when the both of them leave the room, bags slung over their shoulders. Mingi looks at them with the same scowl he had since when they first arrived, Yunho’s hand on his shoulder probably in an attempt to get his husband to chill out.
“Had a good time?” Yunho asks, clearly staring at the disheveled state they’re in. It’s a mock to Mingi, a smirk playing on his lips.
Chan easily mirrors his expression, smiling wide, “The best time. Shall we go?” He lets his hand fall into Wonwoo’s, the two of them walking ahead, giggling amongst each other as they hear Mingi’s shocked spluttering behind them.
They stop by the arsenal before heading out of the base. It’s a very tight-locked room; only runners and cleared citizens are allowed to enter it. When Chan and Wonwoo were first brought into the base, it was made very clear to them that they were not, by any means, allowed to carry weapons around with them. Save for the small knife stashed next to their bedside, both their guns and other weapons were taken from them and stored for later use. It took some getting used to, especially for Chan, who constantly lived in a state of edge, hand always skirting the blade of his knife when they were outside the walls.
The leaders offered their apologies and explained to both of them that it had to do with promoting peace within the community. Chan couldn’t say he blamed them. The walls of the base are made from old metal crates that were brought in from the shipping dock only a few miles from them. It spans almost thirty feet tall, heavily reinforced by wood and other various metallic boards found in the surrounding area. Not only that but there are always people on guard in the small makeshift watchtowers that encompass the perimeter of the base. There’s no doubt that this place has been made as safe as possible which eventually put their weapon worries at ease.
Wonwoo grabs his sniper rifle from its case, silently handing Chan his handgun and bow. When things went down, the two of them had to make a very quick decision on how to handle the walkers, especially with regard to weapons. Wonwoo, with his poor eyesight and very minimal military training, took to a sniper rifle they came across in the very beginning. The scope attachment with magnification makes it easy for him to snipe walkers from afar, and when he needs a close-range weapon, he chooses a machete given to him by the leaders. Chan, on the other hand, was raised to go hunting with his father. As soon as things got bad, he grabbed his bow and arrows from his parent's house. The sheer precision he has when taking his shots makes for the resources to last longer. He paired his long-range weapon with a long knife also given to him by his father, and eventually, Chan took a handgun from some corpses, just in case.
“Did we manage to find any ammo for that pistol from last time?” Mingi asks, searching through some of the shells they have in stock.
“Wonwoo found a box of ammo, if I’m not mistaken,” Chan replies, and Wonwoo steps forward with said box, handing it to Mingi. “We found it near the gun; whether or not it’s the correct ammo, I’m not sure, but it’s worth a shot. If they had any other guns they were long gone by the time we got there.”
Mingi nods, “Got it.”
They finish preparing their gear, Mingi letting out a small cheer when he finds out that the ammo does indeed match with the pistol.
“A great find,” He grins. “I’ll be bringing this bad boy with us today.”
With everything settled, Yunho locks up the arsenal, and the four of them leave the building to head out. The walk from the arsenal to the main entrance is the longest of the base. Chan likes it. He enjoys seeing the happy faces of the children playing ball in the streets, their parents peacefully able to leave them to play while they do their duties because there’s no worry here. The kids are safe. It brings a smile to his face.
The crisp autumn air feels cool against his exposed skin, a nice contrast from the rough summer they had filled with heat waves and thunderstorms. While the runs they take are particularly dangerous, Chan finds that he doesn’t mind them like he used to. Sure, he’d take any job back at the base out for the sake of comfort, but he also enjoys the small exposure to nature he gets, walkers aside.
They reach the entrance gate much quicker than Chan expected. Yunho is the one who steps forward first, staring up at the tower.
“Yo, Jihoon!” Yunho calls up. A few seconds later, the familiar raven-haired male peeks his head over the side, grinning at the group below him.
“Heading out?” He yells back.
“Yeah! Open up for us?”
“Sure thing!” Jihoon disappears again. There’s a brief moment of silence before the familiar creaking of metal sounds out through the air, the gate slowly opening just enough for the four men to be able to exit. “Be safe out there, guys! Haos already picked up a couple of walkers from the post.”
“Will do! See you in a bit!”
Yunho leads them out of the gate, all of them keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding area as they leave. Lingering for a moment outside the gate, they pretty quickly deem it safe, and just like that, the gate closes behind them.
Mingi grabs the map from the outside pocket of his bag and opens it up, pointing to an area not very familiar to Chan. “We’ve been asked to search the south village today. Apparently, Hao and his guys scouted out the area a couple of weeks ago and found some buildings that were stocked with stuff.”
Chan can’t help but be a little shocked at the confession, especially considering the surrounding area has been pretty cleared out, “What did they find?”
“Some non-perishables, a couple of guns and ammo.” His response makes Chan raise a brow.
“Sounds like someone's recent stockpile, not a long-lasting stash that was looked over.”
Mingi simply shrugs.
“Hao said some of the stuff looked like it had been there awhile, but they didn’t get the chance to look around more cause a few walkers came from the surrounding area.”
Wonwoo scoffs, “So our chances of this being easy is low, isn’t it?”
“Pretty much.”
Wonwoo curses under his breath, shaking his head, “Chan just got over his injury. Why are we the elimination squad?”
“Unfortunately for you, Chan’s reputation precedes him. I think they figure that there’s less likelihood of casualties if they send an experienced archer and a sharpshooter out into the field.” Yunho lets out a sigh. “Look, I get it. Mingi is also on their hot list of people to send on missions despite the fact that he has pre-existing injuries. Still, if it’s any solace, there isn’t anyone else that I trust to pull off these missions successfully, and I hope you feel the same way about the both of us.” His gaze lingers on Mingi, who shoots him a look, one more of pity than annoyance.
Chan knows that Wonwoo can’t refute that; hell, not even he can. Mingi was basically trained in special operations in the military, plucked from a very small pool of men to be given the opportunity. However, he sustained a leg injury not long after training and had to be discharged, something that still affects him to this day, the slight limp visible when he walks.
“We appreciate you both, truly,” Wonwoo takes a step forward and places a hand on Yunho’s shoulder. “You know that we’ll always have your back, just as you have ours.” The younger man's normally serious demeanor fades, softening into something Chan can only describe as grateful. There’s nothing more to be said, both of them coming to a silent understanding. Yunho turns on his heels and interlocks his free hand with Mingi, and the other clutches tightly to his gun. He glances over his shoulder to look at them, a tired smile retaking his face, “Shall we?”
“Let’s get this over with,” Chan chuckles, cocking his gun. Yunho and Mingi begin walking down the road, hand in hand, and Chan uses this opportunity to sneak one more glance at the base, taking in a deep breath. The nerves slowly creep in as he considers the journey ahead of them, Yunho’s words ringing deep in his head.
“Hey,” Wonwoo whispers, shaking Chan from his thoughts, the man directing his attention back to his lover. “I’ll be here with you, okay? We’ll be done soon.”
The sheer fondness Chan can see in his eyes has his worries washing away almost instantly.
“Yeah, okay.”
They’ve got this.
-
The walk to the town takes them longer than Chan thought it would. They took their usual route through the state road into the forest like they normally do, surrounded by the hundreds of pine trees that make up the area, fog still heavy in the air, covering the tree tops like a misty blanket. However, instead of going straight, Mingi leads them down a road a couple of miles west.
He’s not really sure how long they take that road, but it feels like forever, at least to Chan. He kills a couple of walkers along the way, shooting them in the head with perfect accuracy from a few feet away. It’s child's play for Chan, but inwardly, he hopes that those will be the only ones they encounter.
Wishful thinking on his part because as soon as they approach the little town, the familiar groans and growls fill his ears.
“Ah shit,” Yunho says. “Get down!”
They all file behind an old blue Chevrolet pickup abandoned on the side of the road just on the outskirts. Wonwoo pulls the binoculars from his bag and hands them to Chan, who immediately looks into them. There are three small buildings in his sights: an isolated, rundown diner to his right and to his left, a brick building with what looks to house a hardware store and a pharmacy. A handful of cars line the streets, scattered about, a testament to the panic that no doubt occurred here when the apocalypse started. The walkers are roaming about the roads, a couple close to the diner, but most of the group lingering near the brick building.
One, two, three, four, five…
Chan continues to count.
Ah, fuck , too many.
“Well, I can see why Hao and the boys left; there’s gotta be a small herd in the area of something. Just from what I can see, there’s at least twenty of them, if not more.”
“Where are they gathered around?” Mingi asks.
Everywhere.
“They’re mostly centered around the brick building, but there’s a few lurking in the streets near the diner as well.” Chan puts the binoculars down and looks at the other three men, who look just as equally as puzzled as he does.
Wonwoo hums, “Theoretically speaking, we could always sneak our way into the backs of the buildings. As long as we’re discreet while in the stores, there shouldn’t be a problem with us getting in and out.”
It’s not a bad plan, but Chan knows that they have to look at it from every angle. This is their lives they’re talking about. “Yeah, but they aren’t stationary. All it takes is for a couple of them to wander around the back and alert the others if we step out at the wrong time.”
“Are you suggesting one of us stay here and shoot long-range?” Mingi asks. Chan isn’t sure if he was trying to come off as challenging, but that’s how he takes it.
“I’m just saying that we need to make sure we have no other options before we go waltzing into a situation that is the riskiest in this case.” He’s seen crowds like these, been stuck in their wake. Flashes of painful memories flood Chan's brain at just looking, imagining the horrid possibilities that can stem from just one thing going wrong.
Yunho motions for the binoculars, Chan gladly passing them over to him. He takes a look, and Chan does truly hope that he finds something that Chan didn’t. But a couple minutes pass, and then Yunho puts them down as well, a frown overtaking his lips.
“I don’t think we have another choice.” He states bluntly.
“Nothing at all?”
“I’m afraid not. If there are any separate entrances aside from the back doors, which I assume there aren’t, they are probably overrun with walkers. Our best bet is what Wonwoo suggested. Mingi can play sniper from back here since he’s the only one with a silencer, and the three of us can split the two buildings.”
Chan nods, “The diner is smaller, so I don’t think we need more people spread there. I can take that one. Yunho, you and Wonwoo can take the brick building, scope it out, pick up what you can, and then get out of there.” Yunho seems to hum in agreement, but when Chan's eyes meet Wonwoos, he finds a displeased expression on his face. “What? What’s the problem?”
It’s unusual for Wonwoo to be so outright against one of Chan’s plans. Normally, they all just agree and move on. Wonwoo scans Chan's face, and for a brief moment, it looks like he considers just not saying anything at all, but something flashes in his eyes, “I just— I don’t feel comfortable with you going alone.”
There it is.
“This isn’t a debate, Wonwoo.” Chan scoffs. “I can take care of myself. I’d rather you both take the bigger building while I scour the smaller one. It’ll go quicker that way.” It irks him that Wonwoo would even have these doubts. He’s an insanely skilled fighter— injury or not. Chan could still easily take down almost a whole group by himself without even having to step near them. Wonwoo knows this, which makes this whole situation even more annoying.
Wonwoo runs a stressed hand through his hair, and Chan realizes that he’s not going to let this go. “I’d feel better if you went with Yunho or me, Chan. You still have a limited range of motion with your arm—”
“Wonwoo, I’ll be fine. Now is not the time for us to debate this.”
“Now is the perfect time to debate this, Chan!” Wonwoos voice raises slightly as he takes a step toward him. Chan shoots him a look, a silent warning to drop it. The both of them pride themselves on never arguing. Throughout their whole relationship, they probably count on their fingers the number of times they did argue, ninety percent of them about stupid shit. But Wonwoo is stubborn and protective; in the end, he just wants what’s best for Chan. There’s heart to it, but he’ll be damned if he lets Wonwoo hold him back over something silly.
“Hey,” Mingi hisses. “Keep it down before you let the walkers know where we’re hiding!”
Wonwoo and Chan don’t reply, still in a stand off with each other, their eyes never leaving each other.. Yunho goes to stand between them, but Mingi stops them with his hand, “No. Give them a second…”
What seems like a few minutes passes, neither of them giving up their position. The area is silent aside from the far groans of the walkers, which sets the tone for their inaudible argument. A cool breeze passes through the air, Chan’s hair being moved into his face, almost covering his eyes, but it does little to deter him. But Wonwoo, on the other hand, lets himself give in.
He brings a hand up and brushes Chan's hair out of his face, the touch lingering on his cheek. The tender action takes him aback, his facade falling, as he watches Wonwoo take a step backward, hand falling to his side.
“Be safe,” Wonwoo says, staring into his eyes for another second before turning on his heels. He says something indecipherable to Yunho and Mingi, but Chan can only think about the lingering ghost of Wonwoos touch on his face, the instant reaction he had when he no longer could look into Chan's eyes. It was as if the single moment when Wonwoo couldn’t look at him was too much to bear.
Yunho blinks at the both of them in disbelief, “You’ll be okay, Chan?”
“I’ll be fine. In and out.”
Yunho nods, not pressing any further, and so does Wonwoo. But despite being the one to give up his guard, his gaze looks far off, and Chan feels the guilt rise within him. Without a second thought, he steps forward and grabs Wonwoo by the collar pulling him into a fiery kiss, the man not even getting a second to register what’s happening before he pulls away.
A goofy grin plays at Chan’s lips, “Be safe.” He echoes the words Wonwoo said to him, enjoying the way his boyfriend's cheeks heat up at the sentiment. He looks at Mingi, who seems just as flustered as Wonwoo, the man's cheeks a light shade of pink. “Cover me if I need it, and yell if you need help.”
Not waiting for a response, Chan peeks over the car and starts to run. There’s a giant pine tree to his right, far enough that he can use it as a lookout but not close enough that he can make it directly to the building from there. Dashing behind the wooden trunk, Chan takes in a few deep breaths as he gathers his bearings. He glances back towards the car, Mingi now positioned just behind the hood, his rifle in hand. Wonwoo and Yunho are nowhere to be seen, so he figures they’ve already started as well.
Chan turns towards the other side of the tree towards the diner. It’s about fifty to seventy feet away, give or take. In his line of sight, he can see one walker grumbling outside the door. He pulls the bow from his back and grabs an arrow from the quiver. Chan positions the arrow on its rest and pulls back, aiming the arrow just above its head.
He waits, and takes in a breath. Inhale, exhale.
Shoot.
The arrow leaves the string at full force, making impact directly into the side of the walker's skull. The body falls to the ground with a light thump, and Chan feels his usual sense of pride swell within him, a smirk pulling at his lips. It’s not his first time hitting a walker, nor will it be his last, but no matter how many times, without fail, it brings him gratification— with his skill and with knowing that he’s rid the world of one less walker.
Chan scopes out the area, before he makes a break for it, feet hitting the pavement. His lungs already burn from the sheer amount of walking it took to get there, the cool air not making it easier, but despite the pain, it makes him feel alive. Running past the walker he killed, Chan reaches down and pulls the arrow from its head, shoving it back into the quiver.
Within a few steps, he’s at the back door. His breathing is heavy, but he doesn’t have much time to waste. He takes in a deep breath, slinging the bow back over his shoulder in favor of grabbing his knife. While he prefers his bow to his knife, the walkers don’t exactly wait for him to set it up before they attack. He’s decent at hand-to-hand combat, especially against the living dead, but it still unnerves him.
The door of the diner is a swing one, a single window looking into the kitchen. It’s dusty but not enough that Chan can’t see through it. He peers through the glass, looking into the area. Scanning the room, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. The kitchen seems untouched by anyone since before the apocalypse— there are cans still sitting on the counters, unopened and unmoved. Even from afar, he can see a thick layer of buildup on the once-silver surface. To make it even better, there’s not a walker in sight, which makes this place an absolute gold mine.
Yet, sometimes, things aren’t always what meets the eye. So, as always, Chan cautiously cracks open the door, knife in hand, ready for anything or anyone that comes his way. The door inches further and further until he can finally poke his head in; there’s no movement, no sound, nothing, just the still room.
“No shit…” Chan whispers in disbelief, pushing his way into the kitchen. As he stands there in the middle of the room, he’s stunned by the lack of… well, anything. When things went to shit, so did the people. No one wrote a handbook on what to do when an apocalypse starts (at least not one people paid attention to), so people did what people do best; they resorted to panic and violence— all things that you shouldn’t do. Groups holed up in different places, robbing all the abandoned stores and restaurants in an attempt to survive. Now, Chan knows that not all of the walkers came from the town, but some of them had to have lived here, so why was this place ignored?
Chan moves further into the space and shucks his bag off his shoulder onto the counter. There are not many cans left out in the kitchen, but he wasn’t expecting there to be. Normally, if his memory serves him correctly, diners and such have separate shelves or pantries for spare ingredients. There’s a glimmer of hope in him that he’ll find something like that stocked heavily with food.
He grabs what’s left: a couple of canned fruits, corn, tomatoes, and a singular corned beef. He puts them in his bag, stacking them neatly at the bottom. Glancing around his surroundings, Chan spots another jackpot— a block of knives sitting next to the sink.
“Oh, thank God!” He cheers, the biggest smile overtaking his lips. Chan leaves the bag and just about skips over to the wooden piece. He pulls out the first knife, a long steak knife with a blade of almost a foot. It’s an older one, donning a hand-carved wooden handle. Chan runs a finger along the blade— it’s not extremely sharp, but it’s also far from dull. The skin of the walkers doesn’t require much, which will make it a fine addition to their arsenal.
He pulls out the second one, this one newer by the looks of the sleek plastic handle. It’s shorter than the steak knife but just as sharp. The third and the fourth are identical to it, good for close range, so Chan decides to take them all. He walks back to the bag and drops the knives in with the cans. A feeling of happiness courses through him at his already very successful scavenge, moments that are now far and few between. He picks up the bag in his hands, moving it up and down to feel the weight of it. It's slightly heavy but not something he can’t handle.
Chan looks around the kitchen again, noticing something in the far back corner. Interest now piqued, he once again ditches the bag, making his way to the area. The light doesn’t reach as far back here, an almost ominous aura encamping the air. As Chan gets closer to the back, he’s met with two solid metal doors, one to his left and one to his right. The one on the left has heavier bolts on the side and a click lock, which lets him know that it could be sealed, probably a freezer. The one to his right is built similarly to the other one but with less sealant and a normal handle. Chan figures the pantry he was thinking about earlier is behind this door.
His hand goes to turn the handle, freezing just above it. Chan looks around, narrowing his eyes.
Something feels off.
He pulls the knife from its sheath, grasping it tightly in his hand. Pressing his ear against the cold metal door, Chan listens. He waits— waits for a sound, a growl, a voice, but nothing comes. There’s nothing but eerie silence. With nothing to deter him, Chan swings the door open, knife up in the air. His breath hitches as he stares into the darkness. A low growl comes from inside the void, and Chan knows already that he fucked up. He takes a few steps back and waits for the walker to come out.
But what he doesn’t account for is the amount that comes out. It starts as one, then two, three, four— the panic begins to set in as at least ten walkers shuffle their way out. The loud moans and groans fill the kitchen alongside Chan’s low curses. He runs towards his backpack, his foot slipping on a sand patch that lay on the tile. His feet slip out from underneath him, back hitting the tile with a thud, knocking the wind out of him. His vision blurs as he gasps for air, still holding onto the knife.
The corners of his eyes blur black but he can see the walkers coming behind him at a slow pace, but not slow enough that he can get his strength back and run. Chan kicks his feet forward in an attempt to move away, scooching himself little by little. It isn’t enough, however as the walkers inch closer to him, chasing him like a predator chases his prey. Because at the end of the day, that’s all they are anymore; all Chan is: prey.
A walker descends upon him just above his face, and Chan has the knife in his hand, but his hand won’t listen to his brain. He tries to stab, slice, anything, but his arm won’t move. The growling seeps its way into his ears, growing louder and louder.
The irony of the situation sets in, and all Chan can do is laugh, a bitter laugh. The tragedy of not only being on the brink of death but dying knowing that Wonwoo was right, now that’s what really kills him.
The walker in front of him launches at him. Eyes falling closed, Chan smiles. He thinks of when he and Wonwoo first met, all the dates they went on, hanging out with their friends some of which who have now passed. Chan thinks of his parents, of his mom’s blinding smile and kind heart, and of his father a strong-willed man who has a stubborn streak but also wouldn’t hesitate to give you the shirt off his back. He hasn’t thought of them in a while, but he still misses them all the more.
But that’s okay.
I’ll see you soon, Chan thinks. Maybe he’ll see Wonwoo again one day—
A gunshot cracks through the room, shaking him from his thoughts. The walker that was just about to tear his throat out now lay on top of him, lifeless and unmoving. More gunshots follow, and Chan hears body after body drop to the floor. He whips his head to the side to see who saved him, eyes locking with Wonwoo’s. The man stands there, gun still raised, smoke coming out the muzzle. His chest is rapidly moving, clearly out of breath, and yet, despite his body language, his face is unreadable to Chan, who can’t tell if he’s pissed or scared out of his mind.
Wonwoo stomps across the floor and to Chan, pulling him out from under the body and up on his feet. He does a once over on Chan, facial expression remaining stoic and unreadable.
“Are you hurt? Did you get bit?”
“No. No, I’m fine just a little banged up on my back—” Wonwoo interrupts him by yanking his shirt up. Chan’s mouth falls open to say something, but he promptly closes it, letting the man inspect him himself.
“Okay. You should be fine. Can you walk?”
“Yes, Wonwoo, I’m fine, I swear.”
“Alright…” Wonwoo hums, looking still somewhat unconvinced. “We need to get out of here soon. I’m sure all the rounds I fired off alerted every single walker in the area to us.” He grabs a clip from his bag and replaces the old one, letting it fall to the floor with a clack. Now fully aware of his surroundings, Chan’s eyes zero in on the gun in his hand. He hadn’t even noticed that Wonwoo had it in the first place.
“Is that Yunho’s?”
Wonwoo blinks at him and then looks down at the gun.
“Yeah, it is.”
Chan narrows his eye more out of confusion than malice, “How did—”
Heaving a deep sigh, Wonwoo shakes his head, “Now— Now isn’t the time to question anything, okay? We need to get out of here.” His voice slightly cracks at the end, letting his facade slip just the slightest bit. But Wonwoo recognizes his mistake, and the sliver of emotion he showed is reverted right back to that stoic expression.
Chan wants to fight, to scream at Wonwoo to tell him how he really feels; hell, he’ll even take Wonwoo yelling at him, telling him how he was right all along. But despite every fiber of his being begging for him to engage, Chan knows better.
“Yeah, okay, let’s go.”
-
The walk back to the camp is a quiet one. Yunho and Mingi don’t bring up what happened, or even pry about it. Chan’s sure that Wonwoo’s seemingly dark emotional aura is a good enough indication that whatever did happen wasn’t good.
But the curiosity gets the better of them, Mingi being the first to break the awkward silence. Clearing his throat, he looks at Chan, “So, did you find anything good?” It’s an honest attempt at a conversation, with so much hope in his voice that he can raise the spirits of the group.
Mingi has always been the mood maker amongst the four of them, so it comes as no surprise to Chan that he’s the first one to speak up. It’s an admirable quality.
“I managed to find a few cans of food and some knives. Good for close-hand combat.”
“Oh, cool! Did you find anything else?”
Chan shakes his head, “I found a pantry in the back, but…” His voice trails off, and when he looks at Mingi, the other is looking at him with a knowing look in his eye. The question goes unasked: are you okay?
And well, Chan doesn’t know. He’s okay in the physical sense, and while his back hurts like a bitch from the fall he took, there’s nothing else wrong with him. But emotionally? Chan’s not sure if he can categorize how he feels or even if he can label it. Death is a funny thing. You look it right in the face and see your whole life flashing right in front of you, and for a moment, nothing matters.
Not the impending doom placed upon you, not your loved ones, not the world. If Chan could find a word for it, he’d call it freeing.
Yeah. Freeing.
In his entire life, Chan has only faced death twice. Once, when he was a kid, he nearly drowned after wandering too far out in the ocean. Chan can still recall the screams of his parents before his head sunk under the waves, vision blurring. And even as a child, there was a moment, a fleeting moment, where there was this weight lifted off of his shoulders. It was an indescribable feeling, something he never thought he would experience again.
And then today happened.
The second time, once again, Chan found himself on the precipice of death. And there he was, feeling the same thing he had felt all those years ago, only this time could he truly identify what it was. But something was different this time because, as a child, he longed for that feeling to come back to him, craving the freedom that he was given a taste of, even if it was brought by nefarious means, even if that meant leaving everyone and his life behind for just a bite of that forbidden fruit.
Yet, that’s not how he felt today; no, in fact, he felt much, much worse. When Wonwoo came and pulled him back from that ledge, Chan expected to feel how he did as a child, still wanting a taste of that freedom. But with one look at Wonwoo, all he could feel was immense guilt and fear. Even as Chan looks at him now, he can’t help but feel a weight in his chest suffocating him.
“Chan?” Mingi questions his sweet tone now one of concern.
He feels something wet on his face, bringing a hand to wipe it away.
Oh.
He’s crying.
When did that happen?
Yunho and Mingi have stopped walking, their eyes fixed on him, clearly unsure what to do. Even Wonwoo, who’s kept his silence the whole time, looks at Chan with a concerned expression on his face. His deep brown eyes bore into Chan’s own, and for a moment, he considers just giving in, letting himself release the swirl of emotions brewing within him. But then he looks around, sees the pines surrounding them, and suddenly he’s aware of just how unsafe they are out here.
Chan wants to pour his heart out, but he wants to be safe when doing it, so he musters up whatever strength he has left, doing his best to keep the tears inside.
“I’m—” His voice cracks at the first word. He wants to say he’s fine, wants to believe he’s fine, but he’s not. “I’m okay for right now. I just want to get back to the base…”
The three share a look, mostly likely debating on whether they should push him more on it. But even if they think they’d make a good case, Chan knows he’s right, and they know he’s right, so they don’t say anything more.
It doesn’t take long before the familiar large wall comes into view. Despite leaving earlier in the morning, the sun has lowered in the sky, the shadows reflecting off the metal, letting them know it’s well into the late afternoon. As they approach, Minghao calls out to them, a smile on his face. But it doesn’t take long for it to fall, probably noticing the somber mood that surrounds the group. The gates open without another word, and they all shuffle inside. Once the gates close safely behind them, Yunho turns to look at Chan.
“Mingi and I can take your bags for you and Wonwoo,” He glances at the other man. “You’ve had a long day, so enjoy a few extra minutes of rest.”
On any normal day, Chan would’ve argued back and tried to fight the other's request, but the exhaustion in him overwhelms his senses, and he can’t find the energy even to reply. He shakes his bag off his shoulder and holds it out to Yunho, who takes it from him and slings it over his shoulder alongside his own. Wonwoo does the same, handing his over to Mingi.
“Please let us know if you need anything…” Mingi says, a sincere look in his eyes. Chan knows there’s more he wants to say; he can see it written all over his face. But it’s not his job.
Chan turns towards Wonwoo. Their eyes meet for a split second, but Wonwoo doesn’t let it last, turning on his heels towards their apartment leaving Chan to stand by himself in the middle of the road. But Chan doesn’t follow. Not at first. He watches him walk away, letting the sadness that’s been brewing the whole journey home finally start to release in waves. He bites back tears as he follows behind, hands clenched at his side. Wonwoo getting upset with him is just something that doesn’t happen. Even in their petty, meaningless fights, Wonwoo doesn’t get upset with him, doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t show a lick of rage or hurt. But the expression that Chan saw for just that brief moment was enough to send him over the edge.
Chan picks up his pace when their building comes into view. Wonwoo was now gone from his sight, probably already safely in the doors. God, Chan couldn’t wait to be back inside. He quickly strides over to the door and throws it open, running inside. He races up the stairs, ignoring the few people he passes. He doesn’t want to talk to them or even see them because if he hears even one person ask how his run went, he might burst into tears. And he can’t fall apart in front of them.
He can’t.
Chan’s lungs burn by the time he reaches the sixth floor, heaving from the sheer amount of energy he’s already exerted. But his door is in his sight, and so he pushes on, speed walking to it, and pulls it open just enough for him to slip inside. When the familiar click of the door sounds, Chan lets himself relax, taking a moment to catch his breath.
He looks up, and Wonwoo is standing just a few feet in front of him, back-facing Chan. It’s almost like he’s waiting for him, but without having to see him enter the apartment physically. And that pisses Chan off.
His breathing intensifies as he pushes himself forward, grabbing Wonwoo by the shoulder to spin him around. Not even then does he lift his gaze to look at Chan.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Chan snaps. “Are you so pissed at me that you can’t even look me in the eye? Did I disappoint you that badly?” His words are more self-deprecating than anything, a projection rather than Wonwoo's thoughts. But the man still doesn’t look at him.
“I’m sorry that I can’t always be perfect, Wonwoo. This world isn’t, so I sure as hell shouldn’t have to be.” Another moment. Still nothing. Chan gets even madder. “I wish you would just tell me to my fucking face. Just show me something other than just staring at the goddamn floor! God, I should’ve just let myself get bit if I would’ve known—”
Chan shuts his mouth immediately. Wonwoo whips his head up, eyes locking with Chan’s in the blink of an eye. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth as the words leave his tongue, and he knows Wonwoo feels it, too, especially in the way he can see the fire lighting in his lover's eyes.
“Do you wanna run that by me again?” Wonwoo’s voice is cold, with a hint of anger, just enough is make Chan shrink into himself.
“Wonwoo, I didn’t mean it—”
“No, Chan, you did.” He takes a step forward. “Do you have any idea why I’m angry right now? Do you know what I’m feeling right now, huh? Tell me. Cause you do a damn good job at putting your own words in my mouth. You know it all. So tell me.”
Chan opens and closes his mouth. He wished he could tell what Wonwoo’s feeling right now. At least then, he could answer the question. But the truth of the matter is that Chan doesn’t know. Chan has no idea what his boyfriend is thinking right now; he can only guess.
Wonwoo waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t get one, he just chuckles bitterly, “You have no fucking idea, do you?”
Chan feels like a deer caught in headlights. He shakes his head.
Wonwoo sighs, “Of course you don’t. I’m pissed, Chan. I’m so fucking pissed, and you have no clue why.”
Chan narrows his eyes, scoffing, “I’m not a child, Wonwoo. I’m your boyfriend. I’m not here to play these fucking games with you. I know I didn’t listen to you. I know that despite your fears, I went ahead and went off by myself anyways and almost got myself killed!” Chan's hands shake from the sheer amount of emotions coursing through him. He searches for something to ground him, deciding to latch onto Wonwoo's shirt. “But I am my goddamn person, Wonwoo! And yeah, I fucked up, and I’m going to continue to fuck up because that’s just who I am! So stop trying to make me guilty for not listening to you!” The words echo around the room, leaving a tense feeling in the air.
Rage courses through Chan’s body as he comes down from his high, his whole body shaking with it. The fists, still clenching the front of Wonwoos shirt, let go, falling limp at his side. He lifts his head to look at Wonwoo, fully expecting to see him look at Chan with anger, but instead, Wonwoo stares at him with a sort of broken look.
“Is that what you think I’m upset about?” Wonwoo asks softly.
But if it isn’t that, then Chan doesn’t know what it could be. “Isn’t it?” He asks, unsure.
A flash of hurt crosses Wonwoos face, like the idea that Chan could ever think that of him was the absolute worst thing ever. He wordlessly takes another step forward and grabs Chan’s hand, this time making sure he’s looking directly into his eyes.
“So… then… what are you mad about? Having to use a handgun?” It’s a wrongfully timed attempt at lightening the mood, pulling the frown on Wonwoo’s face even further downward.
“God, Chan, are you serious?”
Chan swallows, “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it? This is serious, Chan!” Wonwoo bites, letting go of Chan's hand. He turns around as if trying to get ahold of his emotions, and suddenly, Chan feels like he’s in defense mode again as the subsided rage builds up again.
“I get it, okay? Stop fucking talking to me like that! I, of all people, know how serious this is. Do you think I don't get that I almost died today?!”
Wonwoo runs a stressed hand through his hair. He spins on his heels and grabs Chan by the arms, “No one fucking gets it more than me! Don’t you get it?” He screams. “I thought I lost you!”
Chan stares at him, stunned, the confession hanging in the air between them. Wonwoo is shaking now as well, his breathing uneven, but his face falls first, a sob ripping from his mouth, “I thought I lost you…” His head falls onto Chan's shoulder as the sobs wrack his body, grip tightening on his arms, like if he lets go, Chan will disappear.
And Chan isn’t sure if it’s Wonwoos breaking down or if his emotions have finally reached their peak, but he feels his face crumple, a hiccup escaping his lips as he buries his face in Wonwoos hair. Chan's hands snake their way around the others shaking frame, enveloping him in a tight embrace. They cry together like that for a while, just staying in each other's hold. It’s an unexplainable vulnerability being so open like this, even in the safety of their apartment. Chan's emotions are laid bare, but he’s so used to having Wonwoo shield him and vice versa. But there they stand, both their hearts bleeding on their sleeve, and they cave in on each other almost in a way that protects them both.
They stay like that for a while, the light in the apartment dimming as time passes by, moving on from that late afternoon sun to the settling dusk darkness that pulls the sun past the horizon. Chan, surprisingly, is the first one to stop crying between the two of them. He isn’t sure when it happened, but he knows it was somewhere between the sun shining and then falling beneath the buildings. His hold on Wonwoo stays firm, the man's sobs now having calmed down into occasional sniffles. There’s so much left unsaid, so many fears and problems, but Chan knows that they’ll talk about it in due time. Right now, he lets himself be Wonwoos shield, his protection.
Chan is staring out the window when Wonwoo speaks, his voice rough and still slightly watery, “Did I miss the sunset?” The question is so unbelievably Wonwoo that Chan can’t help but chuckle.
“Our version of it, yes.”
Wonwoo hums, turning his head so his face is pressed into Chan's neck. He takes in a deep inhale, releasing a drawn-out breath, before pulling back. With the sun now almost fully set, their apartment is dark, save for the little sliver of light still peeking through the curtains. But even in the dim light, Chan can make out Wonwoos face, the puffiness from crying very evident. Chan brings his hands up to Wonwoos face and brushes his thumbs beneath his eyes. Wonwoos tears are long gone now, but he can’t help but touch the reddened skin there.
“Do I still look good?” Wonwoo asks, clearly grinning from his sudden question.
Chan snorts, “For someone who’s been crying for a couple of hours, you certainly have a lot of jokes in you.” Humor has never been much of Wonwoo’s thing, but sometimes even he can surprise Chan.
His hand comes up and rests on top of Chans, “That’s what I spent doing the whole time I was crying. I had to make you laugh somehow.” It makes Chan smile. There’s absolutely no truth to Wonwoo's words; they both know it, but even then, the gesture still makes his heart flutter.
“I genuinely thought you were dead…” Wonwoo admits after a few moments, turning serious again. “I was nervous the whole time I was with Yunho, and it must have bugged the hell out of him because he gave me his spare gun and sent me after you.” Wonwoo sighs, nuzzling into Chan's hand. “And I’m grateful he did. When I saw the walkers on you…” His voice cracks again, trailing off at the end. But Chan already knows what he’s going to say, shushing him quietly.
“I know, Wonwoo. I know. I’m glad you came. You’ve always protected me when I needed it.”
“But I was almost too late this time…” Wonwoo says, his voice barely above a whisper. If you were to ask Wonwoo what his greatest fear is, Chan is sure he would say losing him. They were close before the apocalypse, but the bond between two people when dealing with an apocalypse together is indescribable. Chan wouldn’t call it trauma bonding per se, but more like you end up becoming that whole person's world, in a literal and emotional sense. The fear of loss, once a lingering thought in the back of people's minds, suddenly becomes the forefront of every aspect of your life. While losing Wonwoo before the apocalypse would’ve been devastating for Chan, he imagines that losing him now would be like losing a part of himself. And Chan’s not sure he could live after that.
Which is exactly how Wonwoo felt.
“Wonwoo, please, look at me…” Chan begs. Wonwoo flicks his eyes up, tears gathered in his lash line again. It makes his heartbreak. “Wonwoo, my beloved, I’m still here. You saved me. You didn’t lose me. What happened? It wasn’t your fault, I promise you, so please don’t beat yourself up over this.” Chan cradles Wonwoos head in his hands like he’s the most precious, fragile thing in the world. And he is, to Chan.
The sun is now well gone; the sky is blanketed in a sheet of darkness, illuminated by the moon glowing on its invisible perch in the air. The beams shine through the window, casting the room in a pale light, and now Chan can see Wonwoos face more clearly. He has a far-off look on his face as if in a trance, but suddenly, Wonwoo’s gaze falls onto the necklace around Chan's neck, similarly to how he did this morning. He picks the ring up in his hands and turns it around in his fingers.
“I made a promise to you, didn’t I?” Wonwoo says softly.
Chan tilts his head out of confusion, “Did you?”
Wonwoo nods, “I did.” He pulls at the chain, looking into Chan's eyes. “May I?”
Chan lets his hands fall from Wonwoos face to unclasp the chain. He feels the necklace loosen, and Chan brings his hand forward so the ring and the necklace fall gracefully into his hand. He holds it up to Wonwoo, who gently takes it from his palm.
“I remember the day I found this ring,” Wonwoo chuckles as he looks at the band. “It was in some seedy pawn shop outside of that small town when things all went to shit. You had seen it through the fogged-up glass and thought it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. But I thought to myself, that’s exactly how I feel when I look at you. So when I saw the ring, I knew that I had to get it for you, 'cause if there was something so beautiful looking at something like that, I knew it had to be perfect.”
“Wonwoo…”
Wonwoo glances from the band to Chan, the utmost fondness in his eyes, “I promised you that one day, when we found a safe place, I would put this ring on your finger. And today made me realize that time is now.” He falls to one knee, softly taking Chan's hand in his, holding up the ring in the other. It glistens in the moonlight almost ethereally, the moon hitting the tiny inlaid diamond just right.
Clearing his throat, Wonwoo looks up, smile on his face, “Lee Chan, we’ve died almost more times than I can count, and faced more trials than any other couple.” He takes in a deep breath. “We’ve met people, lost people, and dealt with walkers for the past few years, and yet, through it all, it’s made me realize that there is no one else I’d rather be with for the end of the world. So, I guess that brings me to ask, will you spend the end of yours with me? Will you marry me?”
Chan sniffles, wiping at the tears now flowing down his face, “Damn you for making me cry twice in one day…” Wonwoo laughs and stands up, pulling Chan into his arms.
“Is that a yes?”
“Of course, it’s a yes. Do you think I could handle anyone else during the end?” His laugh is watery, but he holds his hand up. “If you don’t put that damn ring on my finger, finally…”
Wonwoo grasps his hand and slides the ring onto his finger, watching fondly at the way Chan stares at it. He turns and connects their lips in a kiss, tears wetting both of their faces.
Chan may not know what tomorrow may bring them, next week, next year, hell even the next ten years. But he knows that Wonwoo is the only person he wants to spend it with. They’re safe for now, but Chan thinks that as long as he has Wonwoo, he’ll survive.