the impossible ; chenji

he died, kind of

jisung

Jisung never thought he'd be the kind of person to die.

He knew he'd have to die eventually. And he's had a few close calls, like the time he fell asleep in the washing machine, or when he and Chenle tried to play Frogger on a real road. His mom always said, "it's never you until it's you." He gets it now. Before he thought she was talking about you as in, well, someone else. But he gets it now.

Crap. She's going to be so pissed when she finds out he died.

It's fitting, or maybe depressing, that this is what he's thinking about right now. His mom being angry. The stuff on his floor he should have cleaned up. The homework he "forgot" to do. And the cat — the one sitting in the road, the one he swerved to miss — is the cat okay? Is it watching him and his bike tumble down the rocky cliff, grateful in a disinterested catlike way?

And Chenle...

Chenle won't have a movie buddy tonight.

As if this dying stuff couldn't get any worse. He'll never see Chenle again. He didn't even get to say goodbye.

His body hits the ground. He doesn't feel it. He's already gone.

And then, a second or a century later, he opens his eyes.

He's alive.

chenle

Jisung is late.

It's fully fucking dark outside, and still he hasn't pedalled up all cute and windswept and parked his bike directly on the flower garden. He's so late, he's got Chenle crouched at the front door, peeking out through the mail slot.

Fine. If Jisung has better things to do, Chenle will watch the movie alone.

He waits another ten minutes, then huffs and closes the slot.

He's just poured the popcorn when he hears the front door open, and a pair of shoes scuff on the mat. He rolls his eyes. This is about to get passive-aggressive. Maybe both consecutively.

"Hey," he calls. "Here comes mister time management."

Then Jisung walks into the kitchen, and he's all fucked up. Dirt smeared on his clothes, twigs and sap tangled in his hair. He has this look on his face, like he's been to hell and back, which is weird because he hasn't even been out of state.

"Whoa," Jisung murmurs. That's it. He's staring at Chenle like he just walked in with half the forest stuck to him.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Um." Jisung picks a leaf off his forehead. "I died. Kind of."

"You — died? Kind of?"

"Yeah. I fell off a cliff and died. I know I died, but I'm here now. And I think — don't laugh — but I think I'm a vampire."

Chenle laughs. He can't help it. He almost falls over. Jisung was late because he died and came back a vampire. The best part is that he looks completely serious. (And pissed off. Chenle is still laughing.)

"Okay okay," Chenle manages, wiping his cheeks. "Sure, I'll play along. Why do you think you're a vampire, Jisung?"

"Well, for one, I died. Two, I think the cat—"

"What cat?"

"The one I almost hit in the road — I think it resurrected me. That's a thing, right? If a cat jumps over a dead body it'll become a vampire."

"A zombie makes more sense."

"Zombies aren't real?"

"But vampires are?"

He gestures at himself. "Apparently!"

"What the hell would make you think you're a vampire of all things? Suddenly grow fangs? Sparkly skin?" Chenle turns the toaster and looks at their blurry reflections. "I can still see you, what's that mean?"

"Maybe—"

"Oh wait!" Chenle opens the cupboard, tosses a head of garlic in Jisung's direction. He scrambles to catch it. "Look at that. Aced the garlic test. Should I get my mother's crucifix next?"

Jisung slaps the garlic down on the counter. His eyebrows are tweaked in an adorable kind of fury. "If you're just going to make fun of me, I think I'm leaving."

He spins on his heel and walks out of the kitchen. Chenle sighs loudly, following. "Jisung, c'mon, you're not really serious, right? Dude, right?"

"I'm... confused. A lot happened tonight and I thought you'd be a little more supportive."

"Supportive? Of your vampirism? What, did you want me to offer up my neck as soon as you walked in?"

Jisung is visibly blushing, more proof that he isn't a damn vampire. "See you tomorrow."

He flees down the hallway, leaving a trail of dirt and leaves, and slams the door behind him.