Hello readers! How are you all doing? I have a new one-shot for you all that I also want your opinion on. I am considering developing this idea into a full-length story, but I want to see what all of you think first. Please let me know in the comments what you think after reading. Before we get into the story, I just want to preface this by saying I came up with this idea ages ago and I vaguely remember what I was planning on doing with the story based off of my notes, but it definitely is not the exact same thing that I had planned back when I first came up with the idea. I tried my best, but the original plan I had in my head was more interesting...I think. Again, I really can't remember coming up with this idea. Anyway, enough of my rambling. We should get into the story. It's a sad angsty sci-fi Rawoong (Oneus) fic. I hope you enjoy and have your tissues prepared.

Hwanwoong trudges past the living room of his flat with a blank expression on his face. His lips are pursed into a straight line and his limbs seem to hang on a thread as they sway back and forth. He is garbed in an oversized gray sweatshirt and form-fitting black workout pants, his hair is plastered to his forehead underneath his huge hood. He slowly walks to his room, letting his black backpack slip off his shoulders and onto the floor. He turns his attention to his bed which he flops down onto without a second of hesitation. He shoves his face deep into his covers, wanting his bed to swallow him whole.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Hwanwoong groans before slowly turning over and yanking his phone out of his pocket. He taps at the screen and lets out a breath when he sees the amount of missed calls and messages from his boss. Hwanwoong shakes his head as he slowly puts his phone to sleep. What more does this lady want from him? He came in and covered for the other dancer who sprained her ankle. The lady never said he had to stay the entire day. She can't expect him to. Especially today. He gets that she's new and all, but he took off for a reason. His megalomaniac of a boss needs to realize that he has a life outside the studio.

"I really must be going crazy..." Hwanwoong scoffs at his inner thoughts, "I live and breathe dance..." He sighs as he turns onto his stomach again, reaching his arm over to drop his phone onto the side table where a lamp and a black photo frame sit. As Hwanwoong is about to move away, his eyes catch the photo within the frame and his entire body freezes. He bites his lower lip before reaching to grab the frame. His hands shake slightly as he brings it in front of his face. It's an image of him, a wide smile on his face as he rides on the back of a black haired man who glances up at him with shining eyes of adoration. They're on a beach and Hwanwoong can almost feel the ocean breeze rustling through his hair as his finger brushes against the picture.

He stares at the photo for a second longer before squeezing his eyes shut. He quickly places the picture frame back on the side table and sits back up in a crouching position. He pulls his knees close to him and buries his face into his chest. His throat starts to feel scratchy and his vision begins to blur. He grits his teeth, trying to force himself not to cry. It's silly. Today, he should be allowed to cry all he wants, but Hwanwoong doesn't want to cry. Cause if he does, it'll just remind him of the fact that he doesn't have anyone to tell him to stop. He doesn't have anyone to comfort him with a warm hug or wipe the tears from streaking down his cheeks. He doesn't have anyone to tell him it will all be okay. He doesn't have anyone and that would mean crying all by himself. So he would much rather not cry at all.

Hwanwoong lets out a shaky breath after he has regained his composure. He slowly lifts his head up and his eyes lock onto the photos hanging on the walls. His expression is melancholic, filled with affection and sorrow all at once. He robotically slides off the bed and makes his way over to the photos at a steady pace, almost as if he was at a museum observing other people's artwork. His hands shake slightly and he can feel tears, just barely restrained, creeping in his eyes. He knows that by doing this he's increasing the chances of crying, but isn't this what you're meant to do on a day like this. Remember the better days. Reminisce on the happy memories of him. Or is he supposed to do some offering ceremony? No, that's only for the elders. Right? He thinks he should be visiting the graveyard. Paying his respects and all that, but Hwanwoong doesn't want to go there alone. And he really doesn't want to go by himself and run into his family, regardless of how close they used to be before the accident. So he'll settle with looking at pictures of him. Spending the day in their apartment. As his own way of mourning.

Hwanwoong walks over to the photos, looking at each one intently. He remembers when and where each one was taken. He hadn't before, but now he will never forget. Hwanwoong slowly peels himself away from the photos and starts to leave their bedroom, not wanting to wallow inside all day, but he stops when he catches his reflection in the mirror hanging from the door to their closet. Hwanwoong sighs as he looks at himself. His skin is pale and his lips chapped. His eyes look dead inside. It's been a while since he had last appeared happy while staring at this mirror. It's been a long time since he's even used the mirror. It was from a better time. A happier time. Hwanwoong used to stand in front of it every morning with his phone in his hand and snap a selfie.

"You take too many mirror selfies, Woongie."

"There's no such thing as too many, hyung!"

"There is when you have more selfies than photos of your boyfriend."

"Fine! Take a selfie with me, hyungie. Then there will be one more photo of you instead..."

Hwanwoong feels his heart ache in his chest and a shiver travel through his body as he can almost see him standing beside him. He can see them posing in front of the mirror and snapping a photo side by side. He can almost feel his warm hand on his waist and his broad chest pressed against his back. Hwanwoong squeezes his eyes shut, trying to savor this moment. Trying to pretend for just a minute that all of this is just a nightmare and he's actually there.

But, the buzzing of his phone yanks him out of his daydream and back into reality. Hwanwoong doesn't move as he looks back at his reflection again before letting out a strangled cry. He drops to the floor and buries his face into his hands. Tears spring freely from his eyes and his lungs cry as he sobs loudly. "Youngjo..." Hwanwoong cries out, "I miss you so much...I miss you...I miss you...Youngjo...hyung...please....I just...I want you back..." The sounds of his sorrow echo throughout his empty apartment, making him feel even more alone than before. He cries harder and harder, his entire body shaking. It's another couple of minutes before his tears slow down and Hwanwoong is left as a weak shell on the floor. He takes a shaky breath in and lets out a watery sigh. He slowly lifts his head up and pushes his hood away. He glances back at the mirror again and frowns when he sees his red-rimmed eyes and runny nose. He uses his sleeve to wipe at his face, not caring that it would get dirty.

Hwanwoong glances at the mirror again, hating it and cursing it within his head. Regardless, he continues to stare straight ahead, until he builds the courage to tear his gaze away, but right before he does, a figure in all black replaces his reflection. He is also staring straight ahead with unshed tears building in his eyes. His black hair is styled nicely and he is garbed in a suit. And most importantly, his face looks just like Youngjo. Hwanwoong feels his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat. It's like he's looking through a window. It's like Youngjo is actually there. "No..." Hwanwoong murmurs, shaking his head. He rips his gaze away from the mirror, knowing deep down that there's no chance this is possible. He's just hallucinating.

Even though Hwanwoong knows that this isn't real, he can't divert his gaze for long. All he's ever wanted was to see Youngjo again and he would take that even if it was just some fantastical delusion in his head. His eyes scan Youngjo up and down, taking him in and trying to engrain his image in his mind. He slowly meets his eyes and his blood thrills in his veins. Youngjo is staring right at him. Like at him, at him. Hwanwoong shivers as he slowly pushes himself from the floor. He walks closer to the mirror, his eyes not moving from his shared gaze with the ghost of his boyfriend. He tentatively reaches a hand up to touch the glass, a movement that Youngjo mirrors.

"Youngjo hyung..." Hwanwoong whispers. Youngjo mouths back to him, but Hwanwoong can't hear any of it. It doesn't matter. He knows what he said. His name. In that special way that only his boyfriend was ever able to say his name. The way that made his heart race and made him feel like there was nothing else in the world that mattered but the two of them. The more he stares at Youngjo, the more he feels as none of this is all in his head. The way Youngjo is looking at him. It's all too real. It can't be fake. Hwanwoong isn't that crazy. Right? Hwanwoong begins to lower his hand against the mirror, wanting to touch the rough, but warm hand belonging to his boyfriend. His eyes don't move from Younjo's eyes which are filled with adoration and desire. He is so distracted that he doesn't notice as the mirror starts to ripple. Like liquid, it begins to flow as if it were a pond.

"Youngjo hyung...are you...are you really there?" Hwanwoong questions as he lets his hand touch the rippling mirror. His eyes shoot open in surprise as his hand slips right through the liquid rather than touch the cool glass. "What in the..." Hwanwoong murmurs as his eyes finally notice the free-flowing mirror. He slowly looks at Youngjo, trying to gauge if this is just another part of his long-winded hallucination, but based on his shocked expression, this was real. Hwanwoong slowly looks away from Youngjo and squeezes his eyes shut. He takes a deep breath and nods before stepping through the mirror without a second thought.

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Hwanwoong gasps as he slides through the liquid of the mirror and appears on the other side. His entire body feels like it's buzzing. His head is spinning and everything is sort of echoey. He glances over his shoulder to peek at the mirror from which he came. The ripples are beginning to die down and solidify back into a normal, solid mirror. Hwanwoong starts to reach out for it again, wondering if he really walked through it or not. Before he can though, a familiar voice pulls him out of it, "Woongie..."

The ringing sounds in his ears dissipate and the entire room steadies as Hwanwoong slowly turns his head around. His heart clenches and he lets out an unidentifiable noise when he sees who is standing in front of him. His midnight black hair. His ruby red lips. His shining eyes. There's no doubt about it. That's his Youngjo. His heart sings to see his boyfriend in front of him again. But, for some reason, his entire body is frozen. He should be rushing into his arms, but instead, he is frozen in shock over the surrealness of this moment.

It's Youngjo that takes a tentative step to him first. After that, Hwanwoong is able to move himself. The two rush into each other's arms, squeezing each other tight and pressing their bodies against one another. Youngjo's firm hands grip Hwanwoong's shoulder and he buries his face into his hair. "Hwanwoong...Hwanwoong...," Youngjo repeats again and again. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a sigh as the small body of his boyfriend presses hard against him. Hwanwoong buries his face into Youngjo's chest and lets his hands travel along his body. He lets out a strangled cry when he feels the warm, physical body of his boyfriend. He breathes deeply in, taking in the ever so familiar rose scent of his detergent and the steady rise up and down of his chest.

Hwanwoong's vision starts to blur as tears begin to flow freely, but unlike before, it isn't from sorrow. His heart sings from inside his chest. His head is spinning and he can only describe this feeling as euphoric. As if everything that he's ever wanted is finally here. As if he's finally at peace. The two don't speak as they hug one another, not wanting or needing to disrupt this moment with words. Regardless, words wouldn't mean anything in this situation. Nothing could describe this reunion. Although they don't make a sound, their hands and body speak for themselves. Youngjo's fingers cart through Hwanwoong's locks, and the bridge of his nose brushes against his neck as he leaves a feather of a peck on his skin.

They slowly lower to the ground, unable to hold themselves up anymore after such an emotional ordeal. Their arms don't move from around each other's chests. They breathe in sync as Hwanwoong climbs into Youngjo's lap and presses his back against the beating heart of his boyfriend. Youngjo tucks Hwanwoong's head right underneath his chin. He tilts his head to press a kiss to his hair every now and then, murmuring I love you ever so silently. Hwanwoong wipes the tears from his eyes before letting them fall shut, allowing Youngjo to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. He can feel his boyfriend grab his hand and link their fingers together. He smiles softly as the familiar warmth of his hand envelops his own. It feels the same as it always does, except for the rough callus-like texture that comes from his firefighter duties.

Hwanwoong's eyes slowly open and he begins to look around the room he's in for the first time. It's almost identical to the one he is used to, but everything is placed in the opposite direction. The bed is on the left instead of the right. His bathroom and the mirror are on a different side of the room. This isn't his bedroom. And this isn't his Youngjo. "Youngjo...Youngjo is dead..." Hwanwoong mutters under his breath. He quickly releases the hand of his boyfriend's look-alike. He pushes himself to his feet and quickly skirts to the other side of the room, refusing to meet Youngjo's eyes. He knows that as soon as he does, he'll crumple. Even if this isn't his Youngjo, he's so close to the real thing. Hwanwoong knows a part of him is willing to just ignore it, but that wouldn't be right. Youngjo wouldn't want that. Right? "Woongie? What's wrong?" Not Youngjo asks.

"Everything," Hwanwoong sighs, "I don't know who you are...I don't know if this is some trick, but considering the way you reacted when you saw me..."

"W-what are you talking about?" Youngjo questions in a forceful tone.

"Come on, Youngjo," Hwanwoong shakes his head, "I'm not your Hwanwoong. And you know it."

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"My Hwanwoong died five years ago in a fire..." Youngjo admits. The two are seated in the living room. An awkward space between them on the couch that is made even worse with the shy glances they keep shooting at one another. "He was a preschool teacher and he was taking his class on a field trip to see a show at the local theater. A fire broke out and...Woongie made sure that all of his kids got out before him. By the time he tried to leave...he...he got crushed by the ceiling..." Youngjo explains, "They got him out, but his injuries were too severe...he...he passed that night." Hwanwoong frowns and tentatively reaches out a hand to pat Youngjo's leg. The man jumps a bit in surprise, glancing up at Hwanwoong, who begins to retract his hand. "Sorry..." Hwanwoong murmurs, not really knowing what else to say when you're discussing the death of not you.

"It's alright..." Youngjo breathes, "It was a long time ago." Hwanwoong purses his lips together at those words. He knows they're not true. He knows for a fact that regardless how much time will pass, Hwanwoong will never forget his Youngjo. He will always be his special person, and he thinks that Youngjo feels the same way about his Hwanwoong. "I...I was in a fire too," Hwanwoong murmurs, "It was also five years ago as wekk...there was a shaft from the ceiling coming at me at the theater I was performing at, but my Youngjo saved me. He was...was a fireman." Hwanwoong takes a deep breath before slowly meeting this Youngjo's eyes for the first time. The other version of his boyfriend tentatively does the same. His eyes are still filled with affection, but also a tiny hint of shame. "That's how I knew you weren't my Youngjo," Hwanwoong says, "His hands were rough from his job while yours don't feel the same way cause you're a..."

"Music producer," Youngjo answers simply.

Hwanwoong slowly nods, "My Youngjo...he passed away a year ago in a car crash. Today's his...it's the anniversary of his passing."

"It's the anniversary of my Hwanwoong's passing too," Youngjo says quietly. The two continue to speak to one another, catching up on lives that are painstakingly familiar, yet slightly different. Moments that they both shared, yet didn't. It made everything feel better and worse at the same time. Youngjo was basically Hwanwoong's Youngjo. Minus the occupation and the gap in time between the fire and now, in which Hwanwoong got a couple more years out of his happy relationship, while Youngjo mourned. And Hwanwoong is pretty much Youngjo's Hwanwoong. "What do we do now?" Youngjo questions.

"I...I don't know," Hwanwoong admits, "What do you even do when you end up in some...alternate universe...or whatever you call this..."

Youngjo runs his hands through his hair and lets his back fall against the couch, "I don't know either. The only thing I do know is that I don't want to lose you again, Woongie."

"Youngjo-ssi," Hwanwoong murmurs.

"Hey, don't go speaking like that. It's not that alternate of a universe," Youngjo states, "I'm still that guy you went to college with. I'm still that guy who has an obsession with action figures and hats. I'm still the person who begged you to live with me in an apartment at the heart of Seoul. I'm still Youngjo. Yes, there are some small differences, but nothing that makes us strangers. We're still the same people, Hwanwoong, people who have the same feelings."

"We're not though...regardless of our feelings," Hwanwoong sighs, "You're not my Youngjo. And I'm not your Hwanwoong. No matter how much we hope or try to be, we can't just replace the person we actually lost."

"We're not replacing them," Youngjo says in a hardened tone, "I wouldn't do that even if you are my Woongie in so many ways..."

"Then, what are we doing?" Hwanwoong questions, "What do you want to do?"

"Get to know each other," Youngjo answers, "No ties or promises. Just two people who are learning one another...again." Hwanwoong purses his lips together, hesitant to agree to anything. On one hand, he's curious to see where they can take things. It doesn't help that his entire being yearns to be near the man sitting next to him. On the other, he thinks he's nuts for considering something with an alternate version of his dead boyfriend. But, can he really just walk away after meeting Youngjo? "I know it sounds crazy," Youngjo murmurs, "I think it's crazy that I even suggested it, but I'm not willing to let Yeo Hwanwoong out of my sight again, regardless if he's different from what I remember.

"Okay," Hwanwoong says quickly before he can overthink this for any longer, "It's not like I can get back home anyway...and it's not like I would even go if I could. And most importantly, I want to give this a shot, even if it turns out to be nothing. I'm not letting go of you again, Kim Youngjo. Not yet."

"Would it be too much to...?" Youngjo asks. Hwanwoong shakes his head as he stretches his arms wide and flashes his not boyfriend a small smile. Youngjo grins as well before gently enveloping Hwanwoong with his arms. The smaller man lets out a sigh as his face leans against Youngjo's chest. The hug is sweet and nowhere near as intimate as before, but there's something heartwarming at the sight. The calmness in their interlinked limbs. The serenity written on their faces. And the glimmer of affection in their eyes.

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The room is all white and the overhead lights hum loudly, mixing with the constant clacking of keyboards and the steady beeps coming from the huge projector in the center of the room. A woman garbed in a gray suit and a tight bun walks amongst the rows of her employees. They all wear matching white button downs and black pants. Their eyes locked on screens that reflect against their faces. "Ma'am! There's been a breach!" A man with square shaped glasses explains as he shoots out of his seat, "From World 23 to World 25."

"Put it on the screen," The woman states in a calm tone. She begins to walk up the aisle with confidence, her heels echoing in the wide chamber as she does.

"Yes, ma'am!" The man exclaims. The screen blinks as it changes to show a digital image of the Earth. As it rotates, a steady blinking red light can be seen. The woman glares at the screen for a moment before turning to her workers and barking out orders. "I want our hunters notified immediately and sent to World 25 to mediate this situation. I need eyes on our breacher. I want to see who they talk to and where they go. Hell, I want to know when they leave to go to the damn bathroom," the woman commands, "I want all of you looking for any information about who the breacher is and how they managed to get to another world. And I need this all done pronto! If I don't have this information in my hands in the next hour, you are all getting a pay deduction. Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The entire room choruses.

"Good," The woman says as she crosses her arms over her chest and turns her steely gaze to look at the screen, "We're coming for you, damn breacher."

What do you think? Is this a world that you want to see built upon? Your opinions would really mean the world to me, so please let me know in the comments below. This story was sort of sad and then sort of sweet and then a whole jumble of other emotions. It was fun to write even though my original plan was sort of lost on me because I didn't write a very detailed description in my notes. I still think it came out with a satisfactory result. What do you all think? While you're letting me know whether I should make this into a full-length story or not, please also vote, follow me, add this story to your library and check out my Kpop one-shots book. I'll see you next time!

P.S. Oneus's comeback tho...it's everything! Go stream the MV and give loads of love to the album, To Moons 💖