Bad Boys Bring Heaven To You

Jeongcheol 69

~

Something tickled.

Seungcheol's closed eyes fluttered, the light of the room slowly turning his consciousness on as he creaked them open.

It was weird.

He wasn't in his room.

It took him about a minute to figure that out, and though he still laid on the bed like a dead, unmoving, yet to examine his surroundings, he was sure wherever he was, it neither was his room, nor some hospital. Apparently, the place was too silent for a hospital.

"Am I dead?" He mutters under his breath, his brain refusing to function and coming up with the only single logic. Where else he could be if not in afterworld if he wasn't at hospital or home? Yes, Seungcheol was sure he was dead.

But there still was some confusion. It's just as long as he knows, dead people do not feel anything. And right now he very much felt something ticklish on the skin of his arms, almost like a feather being rubbed against it, gently, slowly, again and again.

Also, one of his wrist, which apparently wasn't ticklish, was connected through a narrow pipe with red liquid dripping from above. And suddenly he can't understand if dead needed blood too?

Seungcheol also left the question at that, finally turning his head towards the tickling side, and to his surprise, finding Jeonghan, seated just beside his bed, one hand clutching on the hem of his shirt while other gently rubbing the skin around Seungcheol's other wrist.

He looked lost, very very lost.

He probably was thinking about something, Seungcheol concluded, and suddenly the memories from before flashed inside his brain one after another, telling him all the possible thoughts of Jeonghan head. Maybe now Seungcheol could determine what really was going inside that head?

No, he still couldn't.

Also- Seungcheol's brows suddenly frowned. Why did Jeonghan not change his clothes?!

"Do you really not have another pair of shirt?" Seungcheol asks, offended, and Jeonghan's head raises like a fish in the pond, his wide eyes now staring at Seungcheol as he freezes for a minute.

Well, it honestly was just for mere seconds, and when he finally settles with the fact that Seungcheol indeed had woken up, and was now trying to sit on the bed, a tear streamed down his cheeks, and while sobbing like a heartbroken teenager, he eloped the older in a proper tight hug.

Seungcheol, honestly, was just taken aback.

"You scared me." Jeonghan says in between his sobs, and suddenly Seungcheol couldn't understand what did he exactly do for him to make Jeonghan feel scared. Infact, Jeonghan scared him. There was no way it was supposed to be other way around.

Seungcheol was really very ready to protest about it, if Jeonghan wasn't crying his heart out.

"Am I... really dead?" He asks instead, and Jeonghan breaks the hug just to look at him with nothing but displeasure, "No, you are not. And you aren't going to as well-"

"Then why are you crying like those military wives? Like the one who just heard that their husband died?"

"......"

"You know what?" Jeonghan punches his chest, hard and rough, and Seungcheol whines in pain as loudly as he could, "Fuck you and your dead sense of humour! My husband is fine and alive!"

"Then stop crying." Seungcheol says, his fingers reaching out to wipe Jeonghan's tears, slowly, steadily, and very gently, "Tears don't suit you."

They don't. Seungcheol hated watching them wetting Jeonghan's cheeks.