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````````````````````````` “I can’t believe I spent my whole childhood studying in this place, and now that was all for nothing.” Jin is saying, as he sits on the shiny classroom floor, leaning back against the wall beneath the window, legs sprawled out in front of him.
“I stressed so much about getting good grades so I could have a good future. I wasted all that time. None of that even matters now.” Jungkook can hear him tapping a pencil against something.“It never mattered.” Yoongi answers from across the room. “Dumbass.”Jungkook can hear him trying to light a blunt, over and over, flicking his thumb against the lighter fruitlessly. At least, it’s probably a blunt. It’s usually a blunt with Yoongi. But Jungkook isn’t looking to make sure.He’s watching Jimin. The way he’s always watched Jimin, ever since they started at the same high school two years ago.Jimin lies on the floor, staring up at the wide ceiling tiles. All the piercings in his face – his ears, his nose, his bottom lip – glint in the dim fluorescent lights.Jungkook remembers carving their initials into his school desk with a pocket knife during one detention last year. He thinks about how that carving is surely going to outlive them all. `````````````````````````
It’s a virus. Or maybe it’s a disease. Jungkook doesn’t know the difference. He guesses it doesn’t matter anyway.Whatever it is, it spread across the globe so quickly that no one even got a chance to name it. Killing off people like flies. Like flies that are forced to die slowly and hideously, turning rabid and self-destructive and dangerous as they rot from the inside out.No one knows exactly how it spreads. Maybe it’s airborne. Maybe it’s through contact of bodily fluids. Or just contact in general.All they know, is that since they’ve been hiding out at their high school, no one’s been infected. There’s five of them.“If we end up being the last people alive on earth,” Hoseok asked the group at one point. They were in the teacher’s lounge, stuffing themselves with the snacks they’d managed to find in the cupboards. “What do you think you’d do?”“I’m telling you, we never will be. Taehyung’s still out there somewhere. He’ll still be alive too.” Jin answered.“You don’t know that. Listen to me. Answer my question properly, bitch.”Jin threw Hoseok a look, and fidgeted his shoulders, squashing his school blazer closed tighter over his chest. “When did you get so mean?”“Leave it, Jin. He’s just mad he ended up with four faggots as his only companions in the apocalypse.”Jungkook had already zoned out at that point.
What do you think you’d do, what do you think you’d do?
It wouldn’t matter anyway, he was thinking. What was the point of doing anything, if the rest of the world is already dead? When no matter what you do, they’ll be no one and nothing – nothing – to remember you doing it? `````````````````````````
Jungkook wasn’t friends with any of these boys before all this shit started.He knew of Jin, because he was one of the few out gay boys at their school. Everyone knew he had a boyfriend – a younger boy, called Taehyung, who went to another school. Jungkook remembers hearing Jin talk with him on the phone by the school gates, head ducked down, giggling and saying things out loud that Jungkook had only ever heard in porn before.He knew of Hoseok, too. They shared a couple of classes, but he never paid him much attention. He was pretty sure Hoseok had a girlfriend. Or maybe he had multiple. Or maybe he just hooked up a lot. There were so many rumours, way too many to ever keep track of.And he knew of Yoongi, because Yoongi was Jimin’s dealer. But he’d never talked to him. (Because he was Jimin’s dealer).Jungkook had never even talked to Jimin before. Obviously. Even though they lived in the same block of flats. Because this was Jimin.Jimin, who comes back to school after each summer with a whole new collection of piercings.
Jimin, who Jungkook has watched get into physical fights with his dad on the steps of their building.
Jimin, who paints his nails to match the bruises on his knuckles and steals money from freshmen to buy lunch and stands right in the middle of the basketball court, kissing boys. ````````````````````````` It’s a day and a half later when it happens, finally.
The yell sounds from way across the building but it breaks through the stale silence like a fist shattering a mirror.Suddenly Jungkook is running – towards it, not away.He can’t identify the voice, but suddenly he becomes convinced that it’s Jimin. His breath scratches his throat in time with the sound of his scuffed shoes hitting the floor of the corridor. Navy blue lockers blur together in his peripheral vision.He doesn’t want to think it, but he knows it’s not because he can’t handle the thought of Jimin dying. He can, realistically. He’s had a crush on Jimin for nearly three years now, but it is just a crush.No, this urgency, this rush, this adrenaline making him light-headed – it’s for a whole other reason altogether.
If Jungkook isn’t going to run for Jimin, what is there left to run for?
He glances over his shoulder and sees Jin running along behind him. Hoseok is coming from the opposite direction, half-walking and half-running towards them.Jungkook turns the corner first, and –It’s not Jimin.It’s Yoongi. Racing towards them, stumbling as his shoes slip and squeak on the linoleum.Behind him, people-shaped clusters of disease and skin and old brown blood claw at the wide glass doors.“Get back,” Yoongi hisses breathlessly. “Get out the fucking way, before they see that we’re all in here.”“They already have.” Hoseok murmurs.Yoongi grabs him by the cuff of his blazer and starts tugging him up the corridor, motioning impatiently for everyone to follow. “I don’t know what they want.” He pants. “We can’t help them. We’ll just get infected too. Do they seriously think we’d fucking risk that?”“Maybe they want us infected.” Hoseok whispers, shaking free from Yoongi’s grip.That’s when Jimin turns up. Looking half-asleep and a little stoned – Jungkook has seen him stealing from Yoongi’s weed stash recently – and so beautiful that the first feeling that comes to Jungkook is that of being pissed off.He stares down the hall, catches sight of what lies behind the doors, and then turns abruptly, jogging to catch up with the others. He falls into step beside Jungkook and says nothing.“Why did you yell, Yoongi?” Jin chips in quietly. “Why are being like this all of a sudden? I thought… you didn’t seem like you’d care when something like this happened. I mean, you knew it was gonna.
Right?” ````````````````````````` “Ouch, ugh… Hoseok? What the hell?”Darkness. Static-grey moonlight. Hoseok leaning over Jin’s sleeping body on the floor of the classroom, shaking his shoulder.“Just. Come with me.”Jin blinks. He stares at Hoseok for a second, and then sits up. He doesn't question Hoseok, just lets him lead him out the room. Until they reach the janitor’s closet, and Hoseok gently pushes Jin inside before closing the door behind them.“Hoseok, I’m sorry but what-““It’s happening, Jin. It’s happening so fast. We’re gonna be like those people. We’re going to be next.”“Hey, no, calm down, it’s-““No. Don’t even try to argue with me. I don’t want to debate. I don’t want to die, Jin. Not yet. There are so many things I haven’t done yet.”There is such thing a bad kiss, and this is what follows. Hoseok kissing Jin, hard and frantic. His hands cling babyishly to Jin’s clothes; he kisses him like he’s never kissed anything in his life before.Jin doesn’t shove him off – just tilts his head away gently, politely. Somehow that’s a more painful kind of rejection. “I have a boyfriend,” he says softly. “And you have a girlfriend.”“Your boyfriend is gone, Jin. And my girlfriend is – was – you know… a girl.”“Shut up about Tae.” Jin snaps, sounding angry for the first time. “You don’t know shit. Like I’m about to let a closet case tell me what’s up with my boyfriend.”“I’m not a… fuck you. I thought you were going to be nice to me. I thought you’d get it.”“I’m not being mean. You don’t even like me, do you? You just wanted a feel up a dude before the world ends.”The janitor’s closet is dark, and stifling. They are too close, too cramped, to be arguing like this. Sharing each other’s personal space, sharing each other’s breath.Maybe that’s what sucks all the fight out of Hoseok. Maybe that’s what tugs the tears down his cheeks, until he’s choking on Jin’s shoulder, and neither of them have the words to explain how much they hate this. `````````````````````````
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````````````````````````` The windows in the boy’s bathroom are small, letting in just enough light to class it as habitable. It’s cold and clammy in here. Jungkook is trying to convince himself that it’s refreshing.He joins Jin at the sinks and turns on the tap. The water comes out cool, clean, normal, like it always has done before any of this happened, and Jungkook is almost surprised.Jin washes his hands a second time, and then a third.“You really think that’s going to make a difference? I don’t think all this is like catching a cold, Jin.” Jungkook says softly.“Hoseok’s gay.” Jin blurts.“I’m sorry?”“And he’s a bitch.”Jungkook turns off the tap and shake the droplets of water from his hands before wiping them on his thighs. “Okay.”“And he’s so weird about it and I don’t think he wants anyone to know but it’s fine, I’m not going to tell the rest of them. I just had to tell someone.”Jungkook nods and presses his lips together slowly. “Okay.”“God. Thanks. I just didn’t want… to be the only one who knew. I could have… like, died being the only one. I had to tell someone. And I’m going to have to tell Taehyung, too. Obviously. Hoseok fucking kissed me, Jungkook. I didn’t want it, but I should still be honest with Tae about it.”“…You really think that you’re going to see Taehyung again?” He asked gently, genuinely curious.“Yes.” Jin answers. “Definitely.”Jungkook says nothing.“I’m serious.” Jin adds, cutting off the water with one sharp wrench of his hand . “None of you guys believe me, but if he doesn’t find me here then I’m going to go look for him.”“…Tell me about him.” Jungkook says quietly. “About Taehyung. What’s he like?”Jin balls up paper towels in his hands. “Really sweet. And really hot. Like, cum-in-your-pants hot. I swear, he’s more gorgeous than anything you’ll ever see. And he always wants to hold my hand, even when we’re out in town and we’re getting gross looks from everybody. And last week,” he swallows. “He got accepted into medical school. He got a scholarship, actually. Which is the only way he’d ever afford it anyway. And he doesn’t deserve to be in a world that’s ending. He doesn’t. He’s proven himself, he’s earned so much more than that. It’s… bullshit, Jungkook. It’s bullshit.” ````````````````````````` No one asks where Yoongi gets the liquor from, but everyone drinks it.Jungkook sits hugging his knees to his chin on a hard wooden chair and imagines pressing his lips to the engraving of his and Jimin’s initials on the desk.He’s been thinking of a lot of strange small things like that recently, and he can’t even help it. He can’t even stop his brain from conjuring up these ideas for bizarre fruitless acts, each one like a small raw hand reaching into the vast numbness.And he hates it.He feels dumb. He feels dumb for all the times he’s tried, and also all the times he never bothered to try anyway.“Is there any more of that?” Jungkook flaps his hand against Jin’s shoulder. It’s not like he would ever ask Yoongi directly, no matter how wasted they both are.Jin nods and pushes a half-empty bottle into Jungkook’s, who immediately tries to down it. It burns, in a thick, hot way, making him splutter.This is the last thing Jungkook remembers, before passing out:Jimin, climbing onto a desk, dirty white shirt hanging unbuttoned and open. Swaying under the strip lights like some kind of shirtless prophet, saying,“We’re going to die! We’re all going to die, you guys, and I’m so... happy! We should all be so happy! Don’t you see? It’s not our fault anymore… that… that we have no prospects. No one has any prospects, no one has anything. It’s like, now that there’s no chance of ever being important or happy or old, we can pretend that we would have been, if the world wasn’t ending. It’s all good, it’s all so fucking good now.It’s not our fault that we’re never going to achieve anything. So, like, when we’re forgotten, it’s going to be so okay, because everyone else will be forgotten too, even the rich people and the successful people and the fucking... the fucking actually good people. They’ll all be dead – them and us and everyone. All gone, like the human race never even existed. It’s okay now. No, it’s more than okay. It’s perfect. What more could we possibly have ever wished for?” ````````````````````````` Jungkook blames the alcohol for the dream he has.He blames Yoongi’s weed that he’s probably been inhaling, and he blames Jimin, for having a cute dark fringe that really needs cutting, and for having thighs that fill out his school trousers, and for – now Jungkook has been made aware of it – the prettiest chest in the world.When he wakes up his body is raging. He’s hungover and fuzzy but he barely even notices that. Everything feels magnified and intense and rings in his ears.He stands up, feeling floating and heavy and like he’s still dreaming. He wanders out into the corridor, and then into the neighbouring classroom.Hoseok is there, exactly where Jungkook expected to find him. It’s the classroom with the least windows, and Hoseok has been seriously nervous about windows recently.“You awake?” His voice doesn’t sound like his own.“Hm? Jungkook, it’s…”“Did you think Jimin looked hot yesterday?” Jungkook says quickly, breathlessly.“Huh? No, Jungkook. Are you forgetting that not everyone here is gay, because I’m not, remember?” Hoseok sits up groggily, leaning on one elbow.“…So you don’t want me to do this?” Jungkook drops unceremoniously to his knees beside Hoseok, and leans over him, placing his palm on the floor on the other side of Hoseok’s waist. He pushes his hand underneath Hoseok’s untucked shirt.There is an unnervingly long moment where neither of them move. Jungkook feels hyper-aware of everything – the weight of his hand on Hoseok’s warm, taut stomach, the frozen and impossible-to-decipher look on Hoseok’s face, the unpleasant hollow feeling of Jungkook’s own insides.And then, so suddenly, Hoseok grabs the front of Jungkook’s white school shirt and tugs him down heavily on top of him.His hands are instantly everywhere. Tentatively but hungrily exploring Jungkook’s shoulders, his back, his thighs. So of course it doesn’t take them long to slip inside the front of Jungkook’s jeans either, squirming awkwardly under the tight waistband.Jungkook isn’t sure about Hoseok. He doesn’t like him that much. This doesn’t feel transcendent, this isn’t making him swoon. But kissing him feels good. Not exactly nice, but good. It makes Jungkook feel solid and real and like not much more than a body, which is weirdly thrilling.He has wanted this for so long. Not exactly this, maybe, but anything. Anything with a boy. Preferably with Jimin, but at this point he isn’t picky. He just wants to know what it’s like to do these things, before the extinction of his consciousness and his beating heart and the human race as he knows it.Hoseok’s breath is hot against his cheek. Their bodies collide heavily, awkwardly, and it almost feels like fighting, like wrestling. Hoseok hurriedly raises his hips and lets Jungkook tug his pants halfway down.It feels good to be wanted like this, Jungkook thinks.So good.Hoseok is trembling. Jungkook wonders what he’s thinking.“Fuck…”“Shush,”“I can’t…”This is nothing like jerking himself off, Jungkook thinks. Not even slightly.“Oh, fuck…” Hoseok’s head is tipped forward, like he can’t or won’t bear to look Jungkook in the eyes. “Fucking shit…”Maybe it’s not even as good as jerking himself off. Hoseok’s hand is a little too fast, a little too loose, skimming over all the spots that Jungkook likes best.But it gets a lot better when he imagines Jimin underneath him instead. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t find Hoseok hot – he’s realising that he does, much to his own surprise. But Jimin is Jimin.So he imagines that it’s Jimin, not Hoseok, with his bottom lip clamped between his teeth and fingernails of one hand digging into his own thigh. He imagines it’s Jimin’s hips bucking gently back and forth, Jimin's stomach muscles flexing beneath his smooth skin. Jimin, swearing and whimpering almost like he’s wounded.Jungkook closes his eyes as he explodes, shatters into pieces on the cold linoleum floor. And then opens them quickly to watch as Hoseok follows suit shortly after, cumming into Jungkook’s fist with a muffled groan that for the first time, doesn’t include a curse word.And just like that, it’s over, and neither of them know what to say.Jungkook sits back, slowly wipes his messy fingers on his trousers. He hears Hoseok tugging his own trousers back up, pulling his zipper closed, fumbling with his button. Jungkook isn’t looking, but he can tell his hands must be shaking from how long it takes him.“Okay. You can like, go now.” Hoseok murmurs eventually, hoarsely.“Okay.” Jungkook answers quickly, but waits a few seconds before standing up.“Jin told you, right?” Hoseok said suddenly, lifting his head.“Yeah. Yeah, he did.”“Did he tell everyone else as well?”“Dunno.” Jimin brushes at his thighs again, hoping that no one is going to question the splotchy, shadowy stains that are now there.“You’re all such fucking assholes. I didn’t want anyone to know, before all this. I wasn’t fucking ready, but now the world’s gone to shit and it’s like I don’t have a choice about being ready or not.”“Yeah. I know.” Jungkook whispers. “Listen… I’m not going to tell anyone about… about just then, okay? I wasn’t ever going to tell anyone anyway.”Hoseok laughs hollowly, and Jungkook completely understands. `````````````````````````
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````````````````````````` “Yoongi, you look terrible.” Jin pipes up one night as they sit in the teacher’s lounge after raiding the last of the food left in the building. It’s probably more like early morning, actually. By now, everyone is too bored to sleep, too paranoid to sleep, too full of life to sleep.“It’s the withdrawal.” Hoseok answers drily. “Right, Yoongi? You’ve got your weed, so what else are you missing, hm?”“Leave him.” Jungkook finds himself saying. “We all look like shit.” He forces himself to look Hoseok in the eyes, which he hasn’t done since they got into each other’s pants a few days before.“No, Jungkook, seriously. Did I tell you guys about the time I saw Yoongi shooting up behind the bike sheds with Kim Namjoon?”“Okay. I believed you up until ‘Kim Namjoon’.” Jungkook answers, eyebrows raised.“Yeah, I know, I know, but I’m being serious. He must use his parent’s money for the drugs, I guess. Maybe he uses their money to fake his super good grades, as well. Who knows.”“How would he even do that?” Jin wonders aloud from across the room.Hoseok shrugs.“Don’t be a fucking liar, Hoseok.” Jungkook hears Jimin say from the corner of the scratchy L-shaped sofa where he is sitting. “Namjoon’s not a druggy.”Hoseok barely falters. “How do you know?”Jungkook is trying not to stare at Jimin, but it’s hard. He watches him intently from under his eyelashes, watching how he smiles innocently and pushes his hair out of his eyes before speaking again.“We fucked on and off all of last year,” he says in his soft, assured voice that always makes Jungkook think of feathers falling through air, if feathers made a sound when they did that. “He’s just a clean-cut rich kid. Nice, but totally clueless.”“You fucked?” Jungkook finds himself saying.He remembers Namjoon. He was always top of every class in their year, and, like Jimin said, rich. At least, rich in comparison to nearly everyone else. It wasn’t like Jungkook knew him that well. He only ever hung out with the other rich kids – and Jimin, apparently.“Yeah. ‘Til my dad found out.”Jungkook says nothing in reply. What is there to say to that? Jungkook has seen what Jimin’s dad is like. And heard him, sometimes, through the ceiling of his apartment that doubles as the floor of Jimin’s.Jungkook wonders what it’s like to be Namjoon. Getting to come from a family with enough money, getting to come from a family who show up to parents’ evenings and beam at your good grades. (Not a family like Jungkook’s, who try their hardest but sometimes can’t afford to pay for things like clothes that fit or the electricity bill or anything more than cereal for dinner. Not a family like Jimin’s, who are only trying their hardest when they are kicking their son’s skull in on the apartment landing).Getting to be Jimin’s clean-cut rich kid. Getting to fuck Park Jimin.But then, Namjoon isn’t here now. He might not even still be alive. This time, for once, money isn’t going to help out anyone. Not with getting infected. (Jungkook doesn’t understand how the disease works, but what he does know is that if a cure existed, even an incredibly expensive one, the world would not be on lockdown right now, like it is. It would still be hanging on by some terrifying, tantalising, taunting thread, instead of free-falling. Free-fallen; past tense).And yet still, Jungkook can’t decide if it would be better to be Namjoon instead of himself, or not. Things were different now. Weren’t they? ````````````````````````` One day, Hoseok comes bursting through the classroom door, saying that Jin is gone. He has a scrap of paper in his hand, says he found it taped to the whiteboard in the science lab.Gone to find Tae. Good luck, see you later.For the first time since all of this happened, Jungkook feels like crying. He doesn’t, though.He says, “Shit.”“I know.”When they show Yoongi, he just shakes his head.When they show Jimin, he gets angry. “He better not have left any doors or windows unlocked. That fucker. Leaving us all at risk because he wants to cuddle his dumbass little boyfriend one last time. Jesus Christ.”When Jungkook glances back at Yoongi, he sees that he’s smiling. At the time, he thinks it’s because he must be admiring something in Jin’s character. He thinks it’s got something to do with hope. ````````````````````````` It’s been weeks. So many weeks, since they first locked themselves inside here together.They didn’t want to die. But it’s been weeks.The waiting is the worst. The knowing that eventually they will be dead, and it could be in five minutes, or five days, or even five months at this rate. They are all just so sick of it all. They are all so hungry, and dirty, and bored.No one sleeps much anymore, but they do lie down a lot. Draped across furniture, eyes closed, drifting, fidgeting. One time, Jungkook opens his eyes to find Jimin less than a foot away from him on the floor. Even more surprisingly, it is just the two of them in the room, alone.Jimin is sleeping, for once, so Jungkook lets himself watch him, through gummy, sleep-crusted eyes.Pretty boy, he thinks.Always such a pretty boy. Jimin could get infected, could bleed and vomit and rot and he’d still be the prettiest boy Jungkook ever saw.Jungkook’s head is so foggy that it makes him jump a little when Jimin speaks up.“Please stop staring at me.”Jungkook wonders how long he’s been awake. He watches Jimin blink slowly and tries to gauge how pissed he is.“Uh, u-“Jimin starts to sit up, rubbing his face with his hand and smoothing down his hair. “Seriously. Just staring like a creep is really not the best way to seduce me, if that’s your aim here. If you like me, just say you like me.” He murmurs. His voice is low and slow with leftover sleep, and he sounds so blasé – so much so that Jungkook can hardly be sure he understood him correctly.“I…” Jungkook feels his heart starting to push at the wall of his ribcage. “Yeah.” He said firmly, despite the fact that Jimin was probably just joking. Jungkook doesn’t care. He wants this to happen, he wants to feel something. He just wants to have a moment that means something “I like you.”Jimin starts to laugh. “Okay. That’s cute. Everyone told me they suspected.”Jungkook hates the way lying down made him feel vulnerable, so he gets up. The apocalypse really sucks out all your emotions – but now they’re coming back, all the worst ones, fear and embarrassment and insecurity, Jungkook realises he isn’t liking it. To say this isn’t going to plan would be an understatement.“I guess I should have realised when Yoongi told me you’d been saying my name in your sleep.”“Oh.” says Jungkook. And then, “God. Fuck Yoongi. Snitch.”Jimin laughs, and suddenly that’s all Jungkook could ever have wished for. “It’s okay. I think it’s pretty hot, that you were dreaming about me and doing that in your sleep and stuff. Would’ve been nice to hear it for myself.”“Oh.” Jungkook repeats.Their lips fall together like something that doesn’t mean anything at all – at least not yet. Now, it’s just a question, another way of reaching into the abyss.Jungkook likes the way Jimin’s nose tickles against his own. He likes the weight of Jimin’s loose, slender arm around his shoulders. He likes the way Jimin’s lip ring feels, and the expert way he kisses with it so as not to press it too uncomfortably against Jungkook’s mouth.But then Jungkook hears footsteps approaching outside in the corridor, too loud and frantic to ignore, and it’s over just as quickly as it begun.The door swings open and it’s Hoseok.“Yoongi,” he says, a little breathless. “Is having a not so great time. Like, seriously not good. Come with me.”Jungkook starts to stand up, swallowing and trying to focus properly. He tries not to sound irritated as he says, “What’s up with him?”Hoseok shakes his head. “Just come with. Quick.”Jungkook looks back at Jimin.“Yeah. Both of you. C’mon.” Hoseok insists.Maybe it’s because of what just happened, but neither Jungkook nor Jimin are fully taking in the urgency in Hoseok’s voice. But – also maybe because of what just happened – they don’t argue. They go with him. `````````````````````````
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````````````````````````` Yoongi is doubled over on the bathroom floor, and Jungkook can see the way he’s shaking, even from a few metres away.Jungkook can also see the sodden stains on his shirt, but he can’t tell whether it’s blood, or vomit, or both.“Oh, fuck.” Jimin says, and holds out his arm in front of Jungkook, blocking him from going forward. “Are you kidding me,”Yoongi looks up and laughs weakly. “Sorry, babe.” He says, and then starts coughing, choking, head dropping back down.“What?” Hoseok demands. “What do you know?”Jimin drops his arm, shakes his head exasperatedly, rolls his eyes. “You think I didn’t watch this same thing happen to my whole family just a few weeks ago?”Jungkook opens his mouth, then shuts it again.“It’s okay,” Yoongi croaks, starting to stand up. His shoes squeak on the floor as his stumbles. “You don’t even have to ask me. I’m getting the fuck out of here.”No one is thinking about Yoongi. They are just thinking about the whole weeks they have spent with him, and however many of those weeks this disease has been brewing inside of him. They are thinking about the bottles they've shared with him and both pressed their mouths to in turns. They are thinking about the desks and chairs and sofas they've both fallen asleep on and then both woken up on with their limbs jammed against other - elbows shoved into waists, ankles overlapping, hands pressed up against awkward places like crotches or asses before being quickly snatched away upon waking. They are thinking of all the stale air they've breathed together, sharing it shamelessly for so long.Everyone is really just thinking about themselves. No one argues with him.They part to let Yoongi through. Up close, Jungkook can see the greyness of his skin, the bile crusted at the corners of his mouth. His footsteps drag and echo off the walls. Jungkook wonders how he never saw this coming.No one says goodbye, or sorry, or I’ll miss you. Jimin doesn’t even go to lock the place up behind him.They all know what this means, and they know they can’t be surprised. ````````````````````````` Hoseok leaves the room first, breaking into a run after the first few steps. Jimin turns to go a few seconds later, and Jungkook hurriedly follows.The silence is ugly and painfully heavy. Jungkook is gritting his teeth and he doesn’t even realise it.Finally, instead of saying something, Jimin stops in his tracks, half-twirls Jungkook around to face him, and kisses him again. This time harder, better, with more purpose. Hands sliding up Jungkook’s sides, head tilted back slightly, right in the middle of the corridor.This is all Jungkook has wanted for years. It feels sacrilegious to push him away, but he does it anyway.“Right now?” He murmurs hoarsely.Jimin shrugs. “Thought you’d want me to.”“…I do…”A smile spreads slowly across Jimin’s face. He pushes Jungkook gently back until his back hits the lockers.“…But,” Jungkook whispers, hating the way Jimin can so easily make him breathless. “I don’t… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like the time.”Jimin sighs. “Yeah. I know.” He backs off. Jungkook steps forward, resumes to walk down the corridor, and looks over his shoulder for Jimin to follow. He does.Throwing his head back and running a hand through his hair, Jimin says, “It’s just fun to know you like me.” He tugs his bottom lip hard through his teeth. He isn’t subtle, but Jungkook still falls for it. “Makes me wanna do all kinds of shit with you, cause I know you’ll love it.”“Oh.” Jungkook’s throat suddenly feels non-existent. He swallows hard and then starts to laugh nervously. “Have you… ever heard of something called timing, Jimin? Or tact? Are we seriously going to pretend that nothing just happened with Yoongi?”Jimin begins to laugh as well, louder than Jungkook. “You’re right. You’re right. Fuck,” is all that he says.They hear Hoseok before just before they open the door to the classroom, and sure enough, when they step inside, there he is: sitting against the wall with his head in his hands, sobbing.He looks up when he hears them enter. His cheeks are pink and streaked with tears, and suddenly he looks so young. He is so young. They all are.Hoseok stands up, wiping his face with the backs of his hands. “This is it, isn’t it?” He murmurs.No one answers him.“I’m gonna die here, if I don’t do anything… and… I don’t wanna,”“Mm. No shit.” Jimin says, but softly.“I’ve gotta get out here,” he chokes out. “I don’t care. I can’t just stay here and wait any more, if it’s not even safe here… if it never even was…”“What are you gonna do, then?” Jungkook blurts.Hoseok shakes his head hard. “I’m not saying I have a plan, I just… can’t deal with this fucking place anymore. It hasn’t helped at all, hiding out here, it’s just made everything worse.” His voice wobbles and he sniffs hard, staving off the tears that are so clearly ready to keep falling. “I just wanna go home. Even if… my mum might not still be there. I have things to tell her. I have to try...”Hoseok is already heading for the window, jerking it open.Jungkook looks at Jimin, and sees that he looks kind of angry, or upset, or like he’s lost a little of his conviction. Jungkook remembers what he said earlier about his family. He never knew about that – that they, too, had fallen victim to the disease already. He wonders if Jimin misses them – even his dad. Or maybe he just feels like he should be missing them.And then, just as Jungkook is about to ask him what’s up, Jimin is turning on his heel and barging out of the room.Jungkook freezes. He glances back at Hoseok, who’s already perching on the windowsill, ready to jump down onto the grass on the other side. Cold, harsh air enters the room, moving his clothes gently in the breeze.“I… well… bye, Hoseok. I'm sorry if... I was one of things that it all worse.” Jungkook tells him quietly, and then darts off after Jimin.He finds Jimin quickly. He didn’t even go that far – just wandered into the next classroom and sat down on top of one of the desks.“…Jimin?”“What?”“What was that?” Jungkook hovers in the doorway, heart racing quick and quiet. It’s been racing like that for the past hour straight.“Doesn’t matter.”“It really doesn’t matter?”“Yeah. I’m just… over it. All of this. I’m so over it. Why is everyone making such a big deal still? I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”“Okay.” says Jungkook. He tries to think of something else to say. He doesn’t remember the last time he talked about something that wasn’t in some way connected to end of the world. “Okay. Do you really like me back? Like, really?”Jimin shrugs. “Honestly… if you’d asked me a month or so back… I think I would have said no. But I don’t know now. I guess I do like you.”“So, let me get that straight. You never liked me before, but now after seeing me gross and unshowered and everything, you’re into me?”“It’s not… don’t ask me to explain it. I just said I like you. Aren’t you happy about that?”Jungkook nods and presses his lips together briefly. “Yeah.” He breathes.“Exactly. And… look. I just… I’m not about to lie to you and confess my love to you or anything. I don’t fucking know you, Jungkook. Just cause it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean we have to pull a Romeo and Juliet or whatever. I just like you. I think you’re cute. That’s all.”Jungkook nods again. He thinks he’s starting to get it.“Wanna go out on the roof?”“Okay. Yeah.”So that’s what they do. In silence, they climb the three flights of stairs to the top of the building. Going out onto the roof was always forbidden, but Jungkook knew people went up here anyway. He was never one of them, but he guesses Jimin must have been, because he knows exactly how to get there.It’s dark outside when they get up there. The only light comes from a couple of streetlights on the horizon which still work despite everything, like no one told them they aren’t even needed anymore.Jimin kicks at a crumpled beer can by his foot. “Shame we already drank all of that liquor.” He starts wandering to the other side of the roof, and sits down, cross-legged right at the edge.Jungkook says nothing and follows, sitting down beside him. He kicks his legs, heels banging against the stone. He isn’t scared of looking down.He’s still a little scared of looking at Jimin though, but he does that too anyway. He watches the way the breeze whips his hair into peaks, the way he tilts his head back like he’s in the sun, on vacation, having the best time of his life. He looks so free – like he always does, bar that split second with Hoseok just now. Whether or not he actually feels free, he does a good job of pretending.But maybe that’s the same thing anyway.One of Jimin’s hands is right beside Jungkook’s, on the small patch of concrete between them. It takes so little effort to scoop it up and hold it.This was always one of Jungkook’s biggest daydreams: holding Park Jimin’s hand. He always thought, the day he held Jimin’s hand would be the day his life became complete, and perfect, and glowing.But this, right now, isn’t perfect. And, Jungkook thinks to himself, it doesn’t have to be.He doesn’t care about purity and truth and destiny anymore. Not everything has to be world-changing or earth-shattering or any of that. It doesn’t even have to make sense. Sometimes, there just aren’t any answers.In an ideal world, there are lots of things Jungkook would really like. He would like to go to prom with Jimin like he always used to daydream about. He would like to hear a boy tell him ‘I love you’ before he’s dead. He would like to live up to the age of 19. Maybe even 20. But this is not an ideal world. This is a dying world. This is a dead world. And in a dead world, you take what you can get. You sit on top of a building in the cold and the dark and you hold your sort-of boyfriend’s hand and say nothing and you are both so small and finite and useless, no matter how much you strain and beat against the walls, and you are alive, you are alive, you are alive. `````````````````````````