Chapter Text
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“That,” Wonshik said, after a beat. “Was fucking terrifying.”
“Yeah,” Hongbin nodded numbly. “That’s one way to put it.”
Wonshik let out a weak little laugh, one that bordered hysteria, and Hongbin immediately reached out to take his hand.
“It’s okay, Wonshik,“ he said firmly. “We’re out now. We’ll stay at your parents’ until we can find a proper place. A better home.”
“I am doing a thorough background check on every building we visit,” Wonshik muttered. “And I’m chucking purifying salt at the walls before we even consider buying it.”
“Good plan,” Hongbin agreed, managing a smile.
The red light they were waiting at finally turned green, and they were off, making their way down the busy road before taking the ramp onto the highway. Wonshik’s hand was comforting against his own, and Hongbin let a heavy breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding the whole time.
They didn’t let go of each other until they reached Wonshik’s parents’ home.
I.
In the end, they moved out again two weeks after their ‘escape’. Hongbin had felt awful over the whole ordeal; Wonshik’s mom and dad were extremely confused about their sudden move but had welcomed them into their comfy house with open arms. Then, when they announced that they were going to leave their house, Mr. and Mrs. Kim were both soundly against it, trying to insist that neither of them were a bother and that they were happy to have them stay. He could also tell that Wonshik was really glad to see his sister again, and wanted to stay at a familiar place he’d grown up in after all the confusion.
But Hongbin couldn’t bring himself to take up their hospitality anymore, not when he still jerked awake in the middle of the night, heart pounding from some nightmare he can’t recall but knows it’s still the same one he’s been having as of late, one that involves a mirror and shaking walls and, worst of all, Wonshik not coming back up from the basement.
So they picked out a shared house near Sanghyuk’s university, where rent was cheaper and nobody slept. The one guy and two girls living in the room across from theirs and in the basement of the co-ed house certainly stayed awake at all and any hours of the morning, and at least one light would be on throughout the night. That was a small comfort, Hongbin supposed.
He jolted awake on their fifth day in their new place, sweaty and disoriented. For a moment, Hongbin didn’t know where he was. The faded green curtains hanging in front of the dusty window wasn’t the one he remembered from their other home or the one in Wonshik’s old bedroom, which still had little rocket ships on it.
Then he felt the bed shift next to him, warm arms curl around his middle, and Wonshik’s voice, low and raspy with disuse, murmur next to him, “You alright?”
Hongbin slumped against his pillow, allowing Wonshik to pull him closer to his bare chest. He exhaled shakily and scrubbed a hand over his tired face.
“I’m fine,” he answered quietly. “I just couldn’t remember where we were staying for a moment.”
Wonshik hummed, stroking his thumb along the sides of Hongbin’s ribs. “We have been moving around a lot,” he agreed. The alarm clock on the banged-up nightstand next to them flickered slightly, showing 6:00 am glowing in neon green. But even then Hongbin could hear the sounds of a shower running upstairs and the muffled dubstep music coming from the basement below them. Whereas their old place had often fallen still and eerily silent from time to time, this place seemed to hum with tired energy and long, dragged out movements.
“Feels weird to live with college students again,” Hongbin yawned, rolling over in Wonshik’s arms. He brushed the stray bangs back from his boyfriend’s face with trembling fingers; Wonshik lifted a hand off his waist to catch Hongbin’s hand. He pressed a kiss to each finger, sleepy eyes flitting up to watch Hongbin’s expression.
“You look young enough to be a college student, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he teased softly, and that managed to make Hongbin laugh. “You haven’t hit your middle-aged crisis yet, and even then, I’ll be here with you.”
Hongbin swallowed, eyes softening fondly at the affectionate words.
“Thanks,” he whispered, bumping his nose against Wonshik’s. “I hope I can stay with you long enough to see you grow actual white hairs.”
“You’re jinxing me,” Wonshik groaned, pulling away from Hongbin with a miffed expression. Snickering softly, Hongbin pushed himself up and onto Wonshik’s front, grabbing his boyfriend’s face with both hands before kissing him soundly. Wonshik didn’t even pretend to stay mad after that; he kissed back, moving his mouth languidly against Hongbin’s, savouring the kiss. They broke apart a moment later to catch their breath, and Hongbin simply pressed his forehead against Wonshik’s, eyes closed, and felt their heartbeats match.
“You okay?” Wonshik asked, cupping the side of Hongbin’s face with his palm, and Hongbin nodded, smiling to himself.
“Yeah. I’m gonna be fine.”
“Good, because I really gotta pee right now,” Wonshik joked, and Hongbin wrinkled his nose as he dropped back down onto the flat mattress, letting Wonshik sit up. “What! I can’t help it!”
“We’re getting way too domestic,” Hongbin started to say, but as Wonshik rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed, and he was certain he felt his heart stop dead in his chest when he saw the horribly familiar angry red lines tearing through flesh and carving onto the skin before him.
Hongbin sat bolt upright, fear wracking through his body. His breath stopped short in his throat and his voice quaked with barely suppressed terror as he spoke. The only thought in his mind was no, no, not again.
“Wonshik, what is that on your back?”
II.
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“By the way, did your previous tenants steal all the mirrors in your house before they left?” Hakyeon asked, selecting a can of coke before shutting the fridge with a light thump. “There isn’t even one in your downstairs bathroom.”
A drop of brandy splashed onto the counter as Hongbin tilted the bottle back. He swiped the dishcloth over it and gave Hakyeon a dimpled grin over his shoulder.
“It’s okay, just use the front camera on your phone to check your reflection.”
“Funny,” Hakyeon laughed. “Here, grab me a tray, I’ll bring the drinks over to the guys in the living room.”
“Thanks,” Hongbin said, passing the tray Wonshik handed him to Hakyeon. “The tumbler with slightly less brandy is Taekwoon’s… you know how he’s weak with alcohol and stuff, so…”
“Say no more,” Hakyeon snickered, and swept the drinks away with flourish. Hongbin twisted the cap back onto the brandy and set it down carefully amongst the other bottles on the counter, surveying the liquor with a thoughtful gaze. A hand came to rest on his waist, and he glanced behind him as Wonshik leaned in and rested his chin on Hongbin’s shoulder.
“You alright?”
“I’m good,” Hongbin replied, absent-mindedly winding his fingers around Wonshik’s. “This is a nice house, isn’t it?”
Wonshik laughed, the soft vibrations rumbling through Hongbin’s side. “It is,” he agreed, turning to kiss the side of Hongbin’s neck. “I think we’ll like it here.”
Hongbin smiled, tilting his head. “Me too.”
The patio door opened and Taekwoon walked in, toeing off his shoes as he brought a plate of perfectly grilled meat in. There was a heavy thud in the direction of the living room as Jaehwan let out a shriek of despair, coupled by Sanghyuk’s maniacal laughter as the music from the video game chirped on. Hongbin shook his head and tugged Wonshik along, pulling him towards the dining room for dinner. As they left their kitchen to join their friends, the fridge kicked to life and began to hum, filling the quiet space with a low sound. The faucet in the mirrorless bathroom let loose several droplets of water that slid down the porcelain sink, disappearing into the darkness of the drain.
In the room opposite to the mirrorless bathroom, the door to the basement remained propped open, letting the cooler air from the lowest room in the house waft up into the main level. It was a nice basement, neatly furbished with both carpeted and hardwood floors. There were two spare rooms Hongbin could already envision turning into guest rooms for their friends when they stayed over, once they managed to find a proper set up for all of Wonshik’s music-mixing equipment anyway. The few boxes they have yet to unpack sat in the laundry and furnace room, some still sealed and others cut open, miscellaneous objects sitting in disarray inside. Sometimes Hongbin or Wonshik would wander down, sift through their things for a random book or utensil they’d forgotten they needed until the situation actually called for it.
Tucked away in the furthest corner, with the covers half-closed over its contents, sat a lone box with Hongbin’s backgammon set and some of Wonshik’s old albums. And there, slotted between the game set and plastic CD cases, was an old ornate mirror, the familiar one that used to hang on top of their shoe rack in their old house, even though neither Hongbin nor Wonshik had ever packed the mirror with them during their move— indeed, on the last day they spent in their old house, they had never been given the opportunity to take the mirror with them.
Yet here it was.
In the darkness of the basement, the mirror could reflect nothing.
But then, from time to time, a flicker of white might appear on the smooth glass, the pearly white teeth of a smile that stretched too wide to be normal, too menacingly to promise any more peaceful days in the new home.
III.
They’d arrived late that night, and after some fussing and a full dinner from Wonshik’s parents, they’d retired to Wonshik’s old bedroom, exhaustion weighing heavily down on their bones as they climbed over piles of boxes containing all of their belongs, which had taken over parts of his sister’s and the storage closet as well. Wonshik had conked out early, curled closely around Hongbin on the much smaller twin bed with their hands interlinked.
Hongbin, on the other hand, took a bit longer to fall asleep, pestered by a migraine until the weariness took over and he sunk into a fitful sleep by his boyfriend.
Morning streamed in through a tiny gap in the little rocket-ship patterned curtains hanging over Wonshik’s window, and when the angle shifted far enough to land on their sleeping faces, he twitched awake and crawled out of bed in a hurry, scrubbing with annoyance at his eyes. The movement woke Wonshik, who mumbled incoherently as he sat up, yawning.
His feet touched cool, wooden floorboards, and traced familiar steps towards the adjoining bathroom. The door shut behind him with a rattle, cutting off the sunlight, and he stood inside, breathing raggedly for a moment until a fumbling hand against the wall found the light switch and turned the bathroom light on.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror, and he looked a mess. His dark hair was rumpled, sticking up at odd angles. His skin was pale, the bags under his eyes dark, and the whites of his eyes were slightly bloodshot. He dragged a hand down over his face, touching slight stubble on his chin, and swiped a thumb over the bottom lip, tugging at it. He opened his mouth experimentally, moving his jaw as wide as it’d go until he relaxed, letting everything on the face settle.
And then, he began to smile, tilting his head slowly until the grin began to stretch over his face, slowly pulling apart at muscles that weren’t meant to stretch that far until the expression became horribly mutilated, and the reflection in the mirror wavered in a nauseating motion before its face crumpled into a mixture of terror and desperation.
The Hongbin in the mirror leapt forwards and launched himself at the glass. Tears streaked down his face and he shouted something, but the words didn’t make it through the mirror. The not-Hongbin blinked, eyes flashing wildly, but it didn’t move. Mirror Hongbin rammed his fist against the glass, punching it repeatedly, clawing fiercely, but there was nothing.
Not-Hongbin looked down and raised its hands slowly, turning them over before inspecting the skin, nails, and joints. It pinched lightly at the flesh, watching the area turn white before it released its fingers and blood flooded back into the area, turning it a healthy pink.
Hongbin gritted his teeth and smashed his palms flat against the glass. For a brief second, the plastic cup on the sink rattled, making the toothbrush inside it twirl from some unseen force, and not-Hongbin and Hongbin both froze, staring. The toothbrush spun for another moment before the momentum wore off and it stilled, wobbling from side to side before it ceased to move at all. Not-Hongbin looked up and leaned in towards the mirror, placing its face close to Hongbin’s, and it huffed out a chilling laugh. Its breath frosted up against the glass.
“Hongbin!”
Wonshik’s voice made them both jump; not-Hongbin turned its head with a raised brow and Hongbin paled behind the mirror. Footsteps shuffled until they stopped directly in front of the door, and the shadow of bare feet could be seen through the gap under the wood.
“If you’re quite done admiring yourself in there, let’s go downstairs and make something for breakfast, I think my mother left some pancake batter for us,” Wonshik said, voice still sleepy and blissfully unaware of the silent battle being raged in the bathroom.
“Alright,” not-Hongbin said, and it was horrifying to hear how similar his voice was to the real Hongbin’s save for the faint, barely-noticeable rasp, like something sharp was caught in its throat. “I’m coming.”
“Okay,” Wonshik hummed, turning away. The feet under the door disappeared, and not-Hongbin glanced sideways up at the mirror.
The real Hongbin’s face was streaked with tears as he pounded at the glass, his gaze no longer trained on the creature. He was looking past it, towards the closed door, his expression desperate and his silenced shouts echoing Wonshik in some far off, distant world that was no longer in the physical.
Not-Hongbin’s smile spread wider, ripping at the skin on its lips. A fresh drop of blood welled up before a pink tongue swept it up and the feral grin dropped away into something more passably human. But even then, the flicker of a monstrous shadow against the wall as it switched the light off, exited the bathroom and closed the door behind it. It shut away the Hongbin in the mirror, who continued to strike the glass and scream soundlessly with a sense of hopelessness that continued to spiral towards dread and despair for the unaware and unprepared Wonshik making breakfast for the two of them downstairs.
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The End...?