[M] Countdown (1/1)

Myungsoo dreamed. More comfortably than ever. He dreamed of a man called Sungyeol, with wide brown eyes and light brown hair. A man that tolerated having his head smacked into the pavement for him. He dreamed of sleeping inside the protection of the man’s arm, their backs against the wall. His mind was dizzy for some reason and behind the web of happiness there was a deep well, full of loss. He was too heavy for the web, and Sungyeol was sleeping. He couldn’t cling on to him. Myungsoo felt himself start to fall. He cried out, trying to wake Sungyeol, gripped onto his wrist hard. But he was falling, and the other didn’t stir. “Hey, wake up.” Someone was shaking him. Myungsoo blinked open his eyes and sucked in a quick, deep breath, as if he’d been deprived of oxygen for a long time. “Cut the noise down.” That voice again. “You’re going to get us killed. And can you let go of my wrist? You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” Myungsoo opened his eyes, which were suddenly filled with Sungyeol. His throat felt dry and raw. There was a weight in his head that hurt if he moved the slightest inch. “Ouch.” “Christ, you’re finally awake. I thought I was gonna have to punch you.” “Where am I?” “Seriously?” Sungyeol scoffed and tugged at his hand. “I meant what I said about punching you. Let go of my wrist.” “Oh,” Myungsoo stared down at the wrist he had clenched between his fingers. He released it slowly and frowned at the half-moon marks from his fingernails. “Sorry.” “Whatever.” Sungyeol stood up slowly, cracking the bones in his joints. Stretching and yawning like a cat. Myungsoo couldn’t help but watch. “You should go back to sleep. You’ll be safe here. I have to do something.” Sungyeol kicked one of the empty soju bottles. Myungsoo watched it spiral off and wondered how they had drank so much between them. The evidence of the ache in his head suddenly became clear, and he groaned. “Sssh.” Myungsoo grunted in annoyance. “I mean it,” Sungyeol’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Listen.” Myungsoo did. He listened carefully but all he could hear was his heart thudding in his ears after Sungyeol froze like that. The man looked like prey stalked by a lion. His entire body was tensed, and if Sungyeol was scared then Myungsoo was terrified. “What is it?” Sungyeol pressed a hand to his lips to signal for him to shut up, and slowly crept forward, his socks making no sound on the floor. That was when Myungsoo heard it. Footsteps on the stairs. They were heavy, loud, out of rhythm. Evidence that there was more than just one . . . Laughter echoed up the hallway, cat calls and the loud thud on doors. Myungsoo heard some muffled conversation. He turned wide eyes onto Sungyeol, who already had the gun in his hands. “Don’t  . . . make a sound. Just stay still. They might pass on by,” the other said, voice barely audible but somehow Myungsoo heard it. He felt like he was in tune with Sungyeol now, that he could hear him even on long waves. The two were statues. Neither moved except to breathe. The footsteps grew closer. They heard shouts from next door, the impact of something hitting a door. Then the voices were on the other side of the wall, as if the others were exploring, and suddenly Sungyeol was in front of him. “Hide.” A simple instruction, but Myungsoo’s legs had gone to jelly. Why was he such a coward, after everything? He thought of the men on the street, of their mocking smiles and what they had wanted to do with him. The easy power they had mocked him with. And now there was nowhere to run. “Get a grip,” Sungyeol hissed, hoisting him to his feet. Myungsoo bit his lip and nodded, unable to generate words. Mouth desert-dry. Sungyeol took control, dragging him into another room. Myungsoo barely had time to register that it was the bedroom before he heard the laughs again – closer. This time someone kicked the entrance door. A shudder ripped through his whole body. Who were they? Unchallenged and reckless, they wanted something. Thieves? Murderers? Myungsoo remembered the hands on his thigh and felt like throwing up again. “Yah, are you listening to me? Get under the bed.” “What about you?” Sungyeol gave him a shove towards the bed and waved his gun. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but Myungsoo didn’t feel comforted at all. He wanted Sungyeol to hide with him. Somehow he felt like the man was his web of safety . . . he couldn’t let that break now. Another slam on the door, like something heavy had smashed into the metal. Myungsoo heard the alarm blare and the door creaking forward on its hinges. “This is no time for a conversation,” Sungyeol hissed. “Move.” Myungsoo didn’t need to be told again. With a desperate glance at Sungyeol, he dropped to his knees, then lay flat on his chest, rolling himself under the bed. Sungyeol’s shoes disappeared and he noted that the man crossed the room and hid in the wardrobe. The darkness clung to Myungsoo, but it wasn’t deep enough to shroud him. He wanted to be invisible. From the kitchen, he heard voices, louder now. Two males and a female. “We know you’re in here,” the girl said. “You forgot to blow out the candles.” Shit. Myungsoo trapped his hands around his mouth. He absolutely could not panic . . . “Come out. We just want to have a bit of fun. Live it up and the like. After all, tonight could be our last night on Earth,” the girl continued, a breathy chuckle following her words. A moment later, an explosion of shattering glass came from the kitchen. Myungsoo felt fear as if the glass shards were pressing into his skin. He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to breathe. The door slowly opened and he heard footsteps in the room. “I feel like we’re getting warmer.” A man this time. “I’ll count to five,” the girl said. “If you don’t come out by one, we’re going to get nasty.” Myungsoo opened his eyes. He saw three sets of shoes from where h