sooenaemoured | 2014: The World From Above (3/3) (for everyone)

Gray is the first thing Kyungsoo sees.

Gray walls of metal and granite, gray ceiling staring blankly down at him, gray linen clothes he's only seen worn by people in the sickbay. The smell of medicine and sterilised equipment is strong in the air, not unpleasant, but too heavy and dank for Kyungsoo's liking. It tastes like the fine line between life and death.

Slowly and cautiously, he lifts a hand, testing the joints of his shoulders and the strength of his arm, wiggling his fingers to make certain they're still flexible and he hasn't completely lost motor control. Taking care not to exert pressure on his upper body, Kyungsoo sits up. This bed isn't his, but the mattress is soft and pliant under him. Kyungsoo looks around, runs his fingers through the sheets. A spot near the edge is surprisingly warm, as if someone had just been here.

A pang of longing and panic hits him square in the chest when he tries to remember. Gray is the colour of the military here in Seoul HQ, standard and dull and the hue of traditions long preserved among commanders and their underlings, but there is one particular shade of gray that makes him feel alive. Gray tinged with green and gold, a pair of warm, gentle eyes, embracing him whenever their gaze rested on him.

Baekhyun.

I'm sorry I never got to tell you. The words resonate in Kyungsoo's ears, bouncing off his eardrums and resonating in his ear canal. He scans the sickbay - cupboards full of prescription medicine, trays of equipment, bottles of chemicals. A glass of water sits idly on the table next to him, as small and lonely as a child awaiting his returning mother, and Kyungsoo can see that it's half empty. Someone was here. He finds the emergency buzzer on the control panel attached to the side of the bed, a big, prominent red button that glowed dangerously when pressed.

The door opens not ten seconds later, a young nurse with wavy blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. Panic, worry and relief all flash across her face as he looks at her, blinking and moving and very much alive. "Kyungsoo-sshi, welcome back," she says, quickly adopting a professional tone and expression. "Please don't get up, I'll page for the doctor to come take a look at you."

"Wait!" The nurse stops in the middle of spinning on her heel, with one hand on the doorknob and the other on a buzzer in her pocket. Kyungsoo's voice sounds scratchy and hoarse, unfamiliar after what could've been days of disuse, but it's wrought with desperation. Pilots are trained to be prepared for worst case scenarios, but not this. Military training never prepares you for pressing matters of the heart. "Is Baekhyun alright? Is he hurt? Is he... Is he safe?"

His ribcage suddenly feels too small for his heart as he waits for her answer. Baekhyun can't have... he can't, not when he'd made a promise, not when he'd said he'd wait to hear what Kyungsoo has to say.

"Byun Baekhyun?" the nurse asks slowly, testing the name on her tongue. Breathing seems to have become immensely difficult. "He's alright. He's been by your side almost the entire time you were out cold. I... I think the rest of the story should come from him." A small smile makes its way onto her face, setting it all aglow; she's a sweet but perceptive kind of beautiful, Kyungsoo can tell, much like Liyin. "He told me he wants to be the first to know when you wake up, if he's not around." She leaves him with a motherly smile and her whispered word to get Baekhyun before she pages the in-house doctor.

Fragments of his memory slowly begin to piece themselves together as he closes his eyes and immerses himself in darkness again, leaning back into the pillows. The spray of seawater in his eyes, the blood caking the side of his face and suit, the pain spreading through every nerve in his body - everything comes back to him in small flashes of frighteningly vivid detail. No matter how much he tries, he has absolutely no recollection of anything after the screaming and the roaring and the chaos, no idea what had become of Morning Star and its pilots, or the kaijuu that resembled a komodo lizard.

It isn't uncommon for rangers to come back from botched missions as different men, people who have seen things that nobody is supposed to see, feel things that nobody should have to feel. A Drift connection torn apart by force or fatal injury is, more often than not, traumatic.

Surfacing above the rest of his thoughts, though, like a warm blanket made out of wool on a snowy winter's day, is the feeling of Baekhyun's mind merging with his, never leaving him, not even until the last second before he'd lost consciousness. Maybe Baekhyun knows this, or maybe he doesn't, but the small touch of their minds in headspace protected the very core of his being. Kyungsoo isn't sure if he should laugh or cry. Liar, he chides Baekhyun in his head. I didn't save you. You saved me.

The wooden door to the room is flung open with a loud bang!, handle colliding with the metal walls in a sound so unpleasant, Kyungsoo would've cringed, if not for the figure dressed in all black standing stone still in the doorway. The only parts of his body still moving are his chest, falling up and down repeatedly as he gasps for breath, and a pair of deep gray eyes as beautiful as any spring day.

"Baekhyun." The name rolls off Kyungsoo's tongue in a whisper, as if saying it any louder would break the illusion and turn him into a million particles of sand. The name is so precious, so dear to him that the mere thought of not being able to call it again is enough to reopen all of Kyungsoo's cuts and bleed him dry. "Baekhyun, you're okay, you—"

Baekhyun isn't by the doorway anymore. A strong pair of arms find their way around Kyungsoo's neck, trembling with the effort, a face buried in the plane of his shoulder. His shirt is sticking to his skin, wet, and it takes long moments to register the hiccuped sobbing coming from the boy in his arms, clinging to Kyungsoo like he's the moon and stars in Baekhyun's sky. "You fucking liar," Baekhyun cries out, fingernails digging into the fabric of Kyungsoo's collar. "You told me you'd tell me when you came back! You scared me so much, I— I thought I... I thought I lost you and— I thought I'd never see you again and I'd never get to tell you—" The rest of Baekhyun's sentence blends into an incomprehensible mess of tears and emotions.

Kyungsoo would want to say something, to tell him he's sorry to have kept Baekhyun waiting and that it's okay now, that they're both safe and nothing will do that to them ever again, but certainty is one thing he's never had. Not when he was still a normal member of society, even less when he joined the Jaeger programme. So all he does is clasp his hands behind Baekhyun's slim body to keep him in place and kiss his ear, his neck, his nose, the salty teartracks on his cheeks, his lips, kiss him slow and deep, every swipe of his tongue against Baekhyun's lips a declaration of love all on its own.

They press impossibly close, as if even the smallest inch of distance between them is one inch too much, Baekhyun chasing Kyungsoo's lips, not letting him pull away. The doctor could be here any minute now, to see them like this, but for what it's worth, Kyungsoo has come back a changed man. It wouldn't matter in the slightest if they got caught in the act - he couldn't care less. Time is luck, life too brief a gift to spend worrying about things that aren't important to him, things that aren't love or Baekhyun or his friends.

Kyungsoo has Baekhyun's bottom lip between his teeth when they finally stop, foreheads pressed together, noses touching. He notices someone's taken the liberty of closing the door, probably the woman he'd seen earlier. Her encouraging smile and demeanour fuels the determination pooling in Kyungsoo's stomach.

"I know." When he whispers gently against Baekhyun's lips, he isn't sure what he means. Kyungsoo doesn't know if he means he knows Baekhyun has every right to be angry, if he'd thought he'd been lost to the battle, too. Intimacy and gentility like this have always been foreign to the both of them - as children, as adults, as comrades and pilots. They've never been privy to these luxuries during their childhood, and even after they met, they'd either toyed around with their boundaries or barraged past them, trampling things as they went.

They're testing new waters, sharing the keys to their hearts and minds and trusting the other to lock the doors behind them. It feels nice. It feels like being in love.

An image of Baekhyun pops into his head, all flushed cheeks and swollen, abused lips, spit and come dripping out of the corner of his mouth, but still so gentle, so beautiful when he'd leaned close to Kyungsoo and pressed their lips together and asked, "Do you know now?".

Kyungsoo knows. He knows what his answer is now. He knows what he means.

"I know now," he says aloud, tremors racking his voice, and he realises he's crying as well, trembling as he holds on to Baekhyun with every ounce of strength he has left. "I know and I'm sorry I made you wait and I'm sorry I scared you and fuck, Baekhyun, I'm sorry about a lot of things but I'm not sorry I fell in love with you."

The smile blossoming on Baekhyun's face makes him look like an exotic flower, the only one of its kind, and Kyungsoo knows it's true. He'll never find another like Byun Baekhyun, nothing as perfect in all his imperfections, no one as important and beloved. He chokes out a sob, like an expectant bride on her wedding day. "I promised you, Baekhyun, and I'm not going to leave you," Kyungsoo murmurs, quiet but strong, threading his fingers through the dishevelled strands of Baekhyun's black hair. "I love you. I love you so much."

Baekhyun kicks off his shoes as Kyungsoo makes room for him on the bed, pulling him into an embrace that fits so perfectly, it feels almost tailor-made. And maybe they are, Kyungsoo decides, as Baekhyun presses his cheek against Kyungsoo's chest, tiny, fluttering breaths blowing against the cotton of his shirt. Maybe they are destined for each other, soulmates, lovers whose match is written in the stars.

"You're the only one I've ever loved, Kyungsoo, and you're the only one who's ever loved me." Baekhyun's voice is wrought with emotion, but still low and soft, restrained even in the silence of the sickbay. The arm around Kyungsoo's waist tightens, a leg slips between his. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Kyungsoo reassures, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets his lips linger on the crown of Baekhyun's head.

They while the afternoon away like this, bright blue sky fading into oranges and yellows, making the lone window on the wall look like an empty canvas being repainted over and over again. Kyungsoo discovers he's been out cold for three whole days, and while he suffered no broken bones or fractures, the cuts had nearly been deep enough to sever his leg and both arms. There would've been no limbs to save, though, if Morning Star hadn't jumpstarted their Jaeger at the last minute and rushed to Nova Hyperion's aid, taking Vega down once and for all with a two-man Thundercloud formation, putting a few more holes in it with their plasma cannon for good measure. They gave new meaning to the Miracle Mile - Baekhyun had been knocked unconscious by a blow to the head, but hadn't been diagnosed with any brain haemorrhage or concussions. Mild nerve damage had put Kyungsoo in a temporary coma, but nothing else seemed to be wrong, save some bodily injuries that could be helped in time.

The visits begin after lunch. Junmyeon and Minseok look like they've been hassled for weeks, lines of worry etched into their tired faces, but it only makes their genuine smiles look that much brighter. Chanyeol barrages in shortly after they leave with several rolls of blueprints, all as long as he is, so he has to peer over the edge to make sure he doesn't ram into the edge of the bed. Safe to say, Baekhyun had laughed at him silly, a sound that reminds Kyungsoo of tinkling windchimes and zen gardens. Jongdae and Liyin drop by on their way to dinner, the concern on their faces quickly disappearing under flushed cheeks when Kyungsoo points out that Jongdae has a hand on her waist. "W-We're... We're going out," Liyin admits, shuffling close to Jongdae, and Kyungsoo swears he feels Baekhyun's lips curve against his skin as they say their goodbyes and turn to leave.

Everybody visits, except Jongin.

The sky looks like a bottle of ink has been spilt over its pastel-coloured expanse, dark blue slowly seeping into the lavenders and pinks of the evening, when Kyungsoo wakes Baekhyun up with a kiss on the lips. "You should go eat. If you're not hungry, then just go rest."

Baekhyun shakes his head adamantly, like a child refusing to be taken away. "I'm staying here with you tonight," he says in a tone of so much finality that Kyungsoo has neither the heart nor the strength to convince him to do otherwise.

It's easily nine or ten in the evening when Marshall Wu knocks on the door to the sickbay, still in his uniform, cap tucked under the crook of his arm. Surprise flickers in his eyes when he sees Baekhyun nestled protectively in Kyungsoo's embrace, but he doesn't comment, only smiles a small, private smile at them and and says, "You're both quite the miracle, you know." The double meaning is clear as day; Kyungsoo can't help but smile back at him.

The news Marshall Wu brings is none for smiling, though, and quite frankly, it's the last thing Kyungsoo ever expected to hear. The terrorising of an entire country watching a kaijuu render one Jaeger useless and plow through the other like butter has caused the World Security Council to rethink their decisions. A sizeable majority of world leaders are opting to build what has been dubbed 'anti-kaijuu walls', perimeter walls tens of storeys high and made of reinforced material to keep the creatures at bay.

"The Council is prepared to finance the Jaeger programme for the next six months, but after that, we're on our own. All remaining Jaegers - the ones they haven't already begun to decommission, that is - are to report to Hong Kong Bay," Marshall Wu finishes, his mouth set in a hard, grim line.

This is the perfect opportunity falling into their laps. A chance for them to run away from this life of uncertainty, of not knowing how many tomorrows they'll have with each other, of always being the defenders and never being accorded the chance to be defended. Kyungsoo looks at Baekhyun out of the corner of his eye and sees fire in every curve of his face and body, and he doesn't need a mirror to know he looks the same. They'll never be safe, whether they stay or not. The only difference is running away will be giving up everything they've stood for - each other.

Baekhyun's voice is old steel, strong but brittle, kept together only by his resolve and Kyungsoo's hand warm on his. "What do we do?"

"Well, the choice is yours, gentlemen. I'm not going to force you to decide," the Marshall says, tucking his hair beneath his cap, standing tall at their bedside. His words are alight with a different kind of fire; he's already made his choice, and he's waiting for Baekhyun and Kyungsoo to make theirs. "I say, to hell with the Council, their walls aren't going to hold any more than a house of cards will. The world is ending. So where would you rather die? Cowering in a shelter, or in a Jaeger?"

Their silence is all the answers Wu Yifan needs.

Jongin might be more accustomed to the spotlight than Kyungsoo ever was, but secret hiding places and abandoned storage closets have always been his favourite places to be, refuges where he can feel safe from the rest of the world, where no one will be able to find him. Kyungsoo never needs to ask where they are; he either finds out on his own, or picks up Jongin's hints. Trust is the only key to Jongin's safehouses.

It feels like a century too long since Kyungsoo last walked the corridors of Seoul HQ as freely as this. The base is quieter now, with substantially less people milling about. When the decommissioning announcement had been made public, many a worker didn't sit well with the idea of working for an organisation unsanctioned by the government, without the immunity, protection and perks once offered to them. Kyungsoo can't say he necessarily minds, though, it's a lot easier to organise his thoughts when there isn't so much going on around him.

He hasn't seen Jongin since the day Nova Hyperion came home with their eighth kill, several weeks back. Jongin spends most of his days holed up in J-Tech, or so Liyin says, learning about weaponry and development even though anyone with decent intuition can tell his heart is with the rangers, not a research and strategic team like theirs. Kyungsoo doesn't even know where Jongin's going or what Jongin plans to do, but he knows they have to speak once before he and Baekhyun leave for Hong Kong the day after, if only to finally close the door to the closet holding the broken skeletons of their past.

On a whim, Kyungsoo makes his way to the nearest elevator and punches the button to the roof. Jongin's always liked looking at things from a vantage point - one of the things that appealed to him most about piloting a Jaeger is standing in a machine tens of feet into the air, way above sea level, just as tall as the skyscrapers in Seoul.

In middle school, one of Jongin's favourite haunts had been the school roof, a wide, spacious area that nobody bothered to visit, not even to have lunch or study alone, simply because it was too tedious a climb, too many flights of stairs up to the very top. Kyungsoo caught him leaning over the railing one evening after he disappeared from soccer practice, watching the slow crawl of evening traffic and the city lights glimmering beneath him, the world spinning on its axis without a care for anyone else.

"It makes you feel like you know everyone, somehow," was Jongin's answer when Kyungsoo asked him why people-watching from their school rooftop interested him so much. "It makes me feel connected to them, watching them from above, no matter how small the tie might be. I feel like I want to keep things this way, hyung, and that this is something I wouldn't mind protecting."

Back then, Kyungsoo had only ruffled his hair and told him to come down before he caught a cold.

He's never been on Seoul HQ's rooftop before, never had a reason to. Autumn is coming to a decline, and the first signs of winter are already beginning to show. Some of the windbreaker trees lining Han River are already naked, twisted branches bare against the chilly late afternoon air.

True enough, Jongin is here, standing in the same position as he did the evening Kyungsoo found him on the roof in middle school, chin propped up on one hand while he gazed longingly at the city milling unaware a distance away from the base, the calm waters of the shore. Han River is a picturesque blade of water on a day as fine as this one, cutting through the modern infrastructure of the city.

Jongin whirls around at the sound of Kyungsoo's approaching footsteps. For a moment, Jongin looks like a deer caught in headlights, alarmed and retreating into the shadow of the forest, then he remembers this is Kyungsoo, his best friend, his confidante of years and years, and he doesn't need to hide. "How did you know I was here?" Jongin tries to come off as brusque, but the only thing he manages to pull off is badly-concealed surprise.

"I just kind of thought you'd be here." Kyungsoo shrugs, hands in his pockets as the approaches Jongin at the ledge.

Jongin looks antsy, like he's ready to make a run for the door any second now, but Kyungsoo pins him down with a stare, not soft, not hard, just curious and seeking answers. "You know, we haven't spoken in weeks. The nurses say you didn't come to see me even once when I was out cold in the sickbay. Even the Marshall came to visit me, Jongin." It's difficult to keep the hurt in his voice at bay. "Me being a pilot doesn't change anything. I'm still the same person, Jongin. Why are you ignoring me?"

The wind is getting chillier, but Jongin's words cut through Kyungsoo first, as sharp and bitter as a black whip. "You think I'm worried you've changed after being a pilot?" he asks incredulously, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm not ignoring you, hyung, but since you haven't figured it out even after— what, fifteen years? I'm not expecting you to know now. I'm ignoring your friend." Jongin's voice is as cold as ice, as closed-off as a secret hidden beneath a hundred Matryoshka dolls. He hasn't heard Jongin like this in all the years they've known each other.

"Baekhyun?" Kyungsoo asks disbelievingly. "Look, I know he didn't make the best of impressions, but he's a nice guy. He's opening up to everyone else, and they like him enough! When are you going to— Are you just being jealous?" Exasperation seeps into his tone of voice; he hadn't come for a confrontation, and the accusatory tone Jongin is using doesn't sit with him at all, even though Kyungsoo knows it's not fair to be upset when Jongin and Baekhyun have barely spoken to each other, if at all.

Bitter laughter echoes in the air all around them, even as Seoul continues to glimmer and shine in the dusk, the very tip of Namsan Tower barely visible in the distance. "Yes, hyung, yes, I'm jealous. I've been in love with you for years and years and you've never noticed how we fit, and suddenly Byun Baekhyun comes along and takes you away. So yes, hyung, I'm very, very jealous."

The answer stuns Kyungsoo into silence, all his retorts and answers fading from his mind. Jongin... in love with him? He's never even thought about the possibility, much less consider it - Jongin is a constant variable in his life, someone he's never gone without and someone he'd trust with great number of secrets, if not all. Jongin had been one of the things keeping him grounded since becoming a pilot, a reminder that he was someone before this and that he is someone outside a Jaeger, still. The thought of letting him go and closing the door to their friendship hurts, but knowing that he's shelved Jongin's feelings for more than a decade hurts more.

"Jongin," Kyungsoo begins softly, placing a comforting hand on his cheek like he used to do when they were children. "I'm sorry."

Jongin's eyes look like springs illuminated by moonlight; tears are pooling behind his lids, glimmering gently, and Kyungsoo wants nothing more than to wipe them away. "Don't do that," he cries, brushing Kyungsoo's hand off and looking away. The thick mop of brown hair on his head does nothing to hide the wet tears spilling down his face. His voice cracks with emotion, trembling violently as he speaks, pleads. "Don't tell me you're sorry. Just tell me you love me."

The opening of one of the runway gates is the only thing they hear for a while, other than their heavy breathing and the muted city sounds in the distance. It occurs to Kyungsoo that he hasn't seen Jongin cry in years; the sight alone is enough to make him look away. Drying his tears with the hem of his red sleeve, Jongin turns to him, suddenly small and shy and thirteen again. Kyungsoo wants nothing more than to scoop him up in his arms and whisper sweet empty promises in his ear, if only to bring things back to the way they were, but he knows he can't, and even if he could, he shouldn't.

"I was the one who's stuck by you all these years. I was the one you called at two in the morning sometimes. I took care of you the same way you took care of me. So why him, hyung? Why not me? What does he have that I don't?" Jongin's plea breaks the silence.

Kyungsoo puts a hand on Jongin's head, gently massaging his scalp, the same way he used to on all the nights they crammed for examinations and tests, in the hopes that some things won't have to change. Jongin doesn't respond, doesn't lean in, but he doesn't push Kyungsoo away either, so that's as good a start as any.

"I love him, Jongin. I just do. I don't know why or how or when, I just know I can't go without him." The wind carries Kyungsoo's murmured answer across the distance between them, out to the sea and the river and the hills, but he's not sure if it reaches Jongin. "When I Drifted with him, I... I realised we're not all that different. He and I are the same. He needs some place he can call home, Jongin. He needs some place he can belong."

The whimpering sound that escapes Jongin's lips when Kyungsoo pulls his hand away begs him to come back, or change his mind. "And me? Don't I need a place in your heart too?"

Kyungsoo looks at Jongin for the longest time, taking in the last of the Kim Jongin and Do Kyungsoo they used to be. Things will change once he leaves the rooftop, like stepping into an alternate reality in the same dimension, and while they might still be friends, acquaintances, perhaps, they will never be again. Maybe the price for tomorrows is giving up yesterdays. Kyungsoo isn't sure; he's never made decisions like this before. He's never envisioned the day he'd have to give Jongin up for something else.

When he blinks, an image of Baekhyun flashes behind his eyelids. Baekhyun is curled up against Kyungsoo's side, breathing softly, their fingers tightly interlocked.

"You've always had a place in my heart, Jongin," he whispers. "It's just not Baekhyun's place."

The door to their shared room always opens too loudly for Kyungsoo's liking; he takes care to open it slowly, just in case he might wake Baekhyun up, but the heavy sliding of the lock is difficult to mask either way. Both their beds have been pressed neatly and cleaned, for what would possibly be the last time. From the entryway, their room looks strangely lonely, desolate, almost, as if the four walls are relishing in what could be their last human occupants in a long, long time. They've never been particularly cluttered, neither have they had lots of possessions, and it only serves to emphasise the emptiness in the chamber.

Kyungsoo sees it coming before it happens – a pair of warm, comforting lips pressed against his, a hand curving around the nape of his neck. "I waited for you," Baekhyun whispers teasingly, nipping at Kyungsoo's bottom lip. The room doesn't feel half as empty anymore, not with Baekhyun smiling against his mouth, free arm wrapped around his waist.

Baekhyun doesn't let go of his hand when they reach the foot of the bunker, instead he slides under the sheets of his own bed and tugs lightly at their intertwined fingers. Come to bed with me, sleep with me, hold me. Twenty years down the road, if their line of work hasn't claimed them yet and they're too old to be pilots anymore, Kyungsoo decides this is how he wants to spend his days, with Baekhyun's face resting in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and their twined hands idle on Kyungsoo's midriff.

They stay like that for a long while, just breathing each other in, spending as much time in their own paper world before the fires come to raze it all. The flames will come, Kyungsoo knows, it just depends how much they destroy at the end and how long it takes, but it doesn't really matter. If they burn, they'll burn together.

Kyungsoo shifts slightly so he's eye-to-eye with Baekhyun, resting on his side. "You know, I spoke to Jongin earlier."

"Yeah? What did he say?" The question comes out rhetorical at best; Baekhyun knows the answer just as well as Kyungsoo does, but things like these need to be said out aloud sometimes, just to solidify sentiment.

"He told me he loved me." Baekhyun's smile doesn't falter, but more often that not, he lets his eyes do the speaking for him, phrasing sentences and questions he couldn't otherwise ask aloud. And so? What did you say? The skin on Baekhyun's face is like cotton to the touch, smooth and light and reassuring. "I told him I love you, and that it couldn't be anyone else but you. I don't know if I lost him, though."

Neither of them can say for certainty that he has, but a small, familiar voice at the back of Kyungsoo's head says he'll never lose Jongin. Things will change, but not by that much, fourteen-year-old Kyungsoo says. Old habits die hard, and friendships can still be salvaged. Fourteen-year-old Do Kyungsoo was wise in his own way.

Baekhyun peels himself out of Kyungsoo's grip, straddles Kyungsoo's waist with strong legs. From under him, Kyungsoo thinks he looks even more beautiful, the light from the table lamp in the corner illuminating part of his eyes, the smile on his lips, the bridge of his nose. "I've never... I've never even imagined anybody saying that to me. When I was younger, I used to lie awake and wonder when somebody would tell me they loved me. My parents definitely wouldn't be the ones. After a while, it just became easier to give up."

Pulling Baekhyun down, Kyungsoo hopes more than ever that the press of their lips will wash every last trace of sorrow from Baekhyun's voice. Sadness doesn't become him. The smile Baekhyun wears after their lips part, the soft laughter that sounds more like music than an exclamation of happiness, makes Kyungsoo wish they could stop time, so that this could be their forever. No one else, nothing else, just them.

"I was homeschooled, I had a private tutor and everything. I was my parents' hopes and dreams, but not my own. How unimaginable it must be, the only son to a pair of lawyers so prolific their success rate scared the opposition, wanting to do performance and theatre." Baekhyun sounds sheepish, almost shy, but Kyungsoo knows this is his way of opening up to him, completely, verbalising secrets and stories he'd never otherwise share with anyone else.

"I got scouted for the Jaeger programme when I was at a hapkido exhibition. Anywhere was better than home, so I went." Baekhyun breathes out a sigh when Kyungsoo swipes a thumb over his bottom lip, parting it slightly. "My trainers didn't really like me either; they just kept me around because I was good at what I did. I never told them anything about me, never showed the same… enthusiasm everyone else did."

Kyungsoo pushes himself upward, lips meeting Baekhyun's halfway. "I like you. I want to keep you because I can't imagine doing anything but," he says honestly.

Baekhyun continues with the softest of smiles on his face. "I just… grew up believing that humanity wasn't really worth saving. What right do we have to sit on our thrones and take everything that endangers us as threats? What if we're the ones encroaching, y'know?" His eyes look suspiciously shiny, glistening even in their dimly-lit room, under the shadow of the top bunk. "Then I met you, that night on the platform, and you... spoke to me like you believed in me, like I wasn't someone you should avoid."

Kisses peppered along the column of Kyungsoo's neck and the curve of Kyungsoo's jaw turn to languid, slow meetings of their lips, then into feverish touches, drinking each other in like parched men would water.

Baekhyun's whispers and sounds come fast and desperate as he pants against the seam of Kyungsoo's lips. "Touch me, Kyungsoo," he all but begs, guiding Kyungsoo's hands under the fabric of his shirt, onto the planes of a toned, smooth body. His voice is low, dangerous, needy when he repeats the words in English, syllables sending a wave of heat right down to Kyungsoo's cock, painfully restrained in his jeans. "Touch me."

People like to believe they're immortal, Kyungsoo included. He used to think being in a Jaeger made him just that, protecting the people he holds dear and the city he's come to love. He realises he's sorely miseducated, been believing in all the wrong things, when Baekhyun slides into him, hot and heavy and crying Kyungsoo's name into the sheets, teeth mapping constellations on the pale skin around his neck and collarbones, panting into his shoulder. Battling kaijuu won't be forever, and neither will piloting Jaegers but this, this love, will go on till the end of time, until the world is no more and everything perishes and burns.

The feeling of Baekhyun rocking into him, harder and faster every time Kyungsoo says his name, fingers denting marks into Baekhyun's waist and shoulders and arms is exquisite, overwhelming sensations unlike any other, the kind that short-circuits your senses and sends your heart into overdrive. Being one in mind is a beautiful thing, but as Baekhyun comes inside him with a choked sob, biting into Kyungsoo's neck as he rides out his orgasm, being one in body is an entirely different kind of beautiful altogether.

As Baekhyun slumps limply into Kyungsoo's arms, sweaty and spent but sculpted and stunning, pressing soothing kisses to the bruises and marks on his skin, Kyungsoo feels like they still stand a chance at forever, in their own little world of paper, as long as they're together.

("I'm scared," Baekhyun mumbles into Kyungsoo's chest as their bodies ease into a state of rest. "I don’t know how much time I'll have with you." It's funny, almost ironic, how the world is coming face-to-face with its impending doom, with monsters and threats probably too much for them to outsmart and overcome, but here they are, falling in love, worrying about the slow, small things in life.

Kyungsoo takes Baekhyun's lips in his, brushing away the hair sticking to his forehead. He kisses Baekhyun until they fall into the haze between sleep and wake, fingers tightly interlocked between them. "Even if the world ends tomorrow, even if we die tomorrow, it doesn't change the fact that I loved you today.")

Hong Kong is further south of Seoul by a long way, so it's not as cold as Kyungsoo is accustomed to at this time of year, but it's thrice as busy as their old base had been. Their helicarrier is greeted by a host of armed guards, all local lads by the looks of it. It's just rained; there are still puddles of water on the asphalt and tar of the runway and compound. Hong Kong's military base is as wide as Seoul's is tall, a low cylindrical structure, gray and intimidating in the gloom. The top hemisphere of a dome protrudes from the very centre of the building, no doubt Hong Kong Shatterdome. So the rumours of Hong Kong having underground loading bays must be true; no part of the building looks tall enough to house a full-fledged Jaeger.

Kyungsoo hoists his duffel bag over his shoulder, watches Baekhyun sling on his favourite, worn-out backpack, pressing close to each other as the armed guards escort them into the Shatterdome. At the very head of their entourage is Marshall Wu himself, speaking curtly to what appears to be the leader of the armed forces in fluent Cantonese. Other than pilots and the Shatterdome Marshall himself, Seoul has brought a few of its senior technicians and researchers for the first batch, like Junmyeon and Minseok, while the rest of the staff and prominent trainees will be brought in with the second.

All around them, Jaeger technicians are scrambling up and down the runway, undoubtedly making space for the tens of machines and hundreds of people all over the world converging here in Hong Kong. Their faces are stone-cold and grim, the faces of a population going to war with no obvious advantage. The kaijuu are evolving faster than men can improve their Jaegers, what more with their limited resources now that the government is no longer funding the programme.

This is where we'll bring them hope, Kyungsoo thinks determinedly. That's what they've come for, and it's part of the reason why they'd agreed to follow Marshall Wu anyway. The faint brush of Baekhyun's fingers against his is extra reassurance.

If the scene outside the Shatterdome is chaotic, the inside is an absolute warzone. It's almost as if someone had condensed Shibuya Crossing and housed it under one roof. It's a messy throng of bodies, hasty but determined, purposeful people knowing where they want to go and what they want to do. Kyungsoo yanks Baekhyun out of the way of a moving truck carrying coal indoors, keeps a tight grip on his wrist as they walk.

"Gentlemen, this is the Hong Kong Shatterdome." Marshall Wu approaches them and gestures at the solid piece of metal that serves as the near-impenetrable door of the chamber. It stretches all the way to the ceiling, as far as they eye can see, hundreds of tonnes heavy in both substance and secrets. "If you'd be so kind as to show yourselves around, I need to speak briefly with the Shatterdome Marshall here. I'll rejoin you as soon as I can, but ask for help if you need to get around."

When the Marshall is completely out of earshot, Baekhyun turns to Kyungsoo with a tiny smile that says he's afraid of everything and nothing, all at the same time. "So... this is it, Soo."

Cold air floods through Kyungsoo's nostrils as he takes a deep breath, the cool tinged with the taste of metal and chemicals, fear and determination, today and tomorrow. Kyungsoo rests his hand on the ominous, large red button encased in a glass box, attached to a slim control panel just outside the door to the Shatterdome – the key to the rest of their lives, their new future. "We aren't the army anymore, Baekhyun," he whispers. He needs to make certain that this is what Baekhyun wants. "We're the resistance."

Baekhyun places his hand atop Kyungsoo's, slender fingers fitting into the gaps between Kyungsoo's perfectly, as if nature had made their hands to be held in each other's. "Together?"

The gaze Kyungsoo directs at Baekhyun lasts but a few seconds, but the way the edges of Baekhyun's lips slowly inch upward, the glint in his telling gray eyes, the face and person of his dreams, tells him everything he needs to know. He's reminded of the person Baekhyun used to be, the person Baekhyun is now, and the somewhere-in-between he's fallen in love with.

Kyungsoo brings the back of Baekhyun's hands to his lips. "Always."

This is not the end, it is the beginning. You cannot falter now.
If you trust nothing else, trust this, trust love.
evenstar - howard shore, lord of the rings

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1. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun's Jaeger, Nova Hyperion, does exist in the canon storyline and is really a Mark 4 Jaeger manufactured in and protecting South Korea. However, in the original books, both pilots were women, and the Jaeger is destroyed in the decommissioning process.
2. J-Tech stands for Jaeger-Technology, a sector of the PPDC specifically tasked with the research, development and upgrading of Jaegers. An international J-Tech council decides the benchmarks for each Jaeger Mark.
3. K-Science is short for Kaijuu-Science, the division that specialises in harvesting and studying organs retrieved from kaijuu carcasses.
4. Preliminary Drift compatibility is usually determined from the sparring competition. Usually, only one pilot is chosen for the final Drift test, but the rules have been waivered to accommodate the storyline in this fic.
5. Morning Star's pilots, although not directly named, are Yixing and Luhan, who were both dancers prior to being scouted. They are based in Beijing, but were dispatched to Qingdao by demand at the time of Vega's attack.
6. Throughout the process of writing this fic, the author used this map of East Asia, referenced here for your convenience.
7. All aspiring pilots are usually required to be fluent in a minimum of two languages - English, and their mother tongue. More often than not, they'll pick up an extra language during their tenure at the Academy, usually a language used by neighbouring countries, for the sake of international cooperation.
8. The central Jaeger Academy is in San Francisco, which makes Baekhyun an alumni of the Academy headquarters.
9. The nurse attending to Kyungsoo when he wakes up in the sickbay is actually Sunyoung, better known as f(x)'s Luna.
10. Shibuya Crossing is a very famous street crossing in Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan, often pictured in movies.
11. Miracle Mile is a term for the last few miles offshore, a last-ditch distance before kaijuus make land. The standard distance to intercept a kaijuu, as declared by PPDC, is actually ten miles from the coastline.