#short and sweet ❤️

The nape of your neck turns vermillion, it makes him wonder, — “There’s no one else I’d rather be with.” [Pacific Rim AU].

Yedam is six years old when a monster emerges from the sea (& he is eighteen when he signs up for the Jaeger program).

—

“We… — We can’t be Drift-compatible, I… — We can’t be.” Your fingers clenched tight into fists, white blooming in skin. Eyes looking at Yedam, tired. Afraid. And there is Yedam, there is his heart. Beating heavy in his chest, against bone. Fast, heart pulling away.

“You don’t have a choice.”

(He doesn’t know you. But you know him, and he thinks that’s all that really matters).

—

You ask to spar with him, your eyes locking. Lingering. Yedam just thinks, yes. And for a split-second Yedam thinks you can hear him, he’s almost convinced you can — “Okay.”

Seeing you in front of him then, in a body that wasn’t Jihoon. He tell himself you’re far too young, far too inexperienced. Just like him.

(He leaves the sparring session with a bruise on his cheek, and a bloody nose. You apologizing, trailing after him.

Yedam realizes he’s the one who is far too young, far too inexperienced).

—

He feels like he knows you. Yet he doesn’t.

It’s not his thoughts. It’s yours. When you first drift together. At first, it’s just flickers of your past growing up — ripples of you, a swing set and one long lonely road. The sky morphs into red, you against the backdrop of the world — then there is screaming. Then there is a Kaiju. Rising from nowhere, the sea.

(After that it’s Yedam — flickers of him, fading black. Spots appearing, then gone).

Yedam looks to you, gaze lingering. The nape of your neck turns vermillion, it makes him wonder. And your eyes glossen, face and ears reddening.

+

It hurt his heart, ached. Pounded against his chest. The Jaeger moved when he did, and so did you (maybe you’ve always moved when he did, trailed behind — he remembers eyes looking at him, tired. Afraid).

Then, he looks at the screen in front of him.

Drift synced.

Yedam doesn’t remember anything after. Just you, and he reels from your memories.

—

The days following after your first drift pass. You still trail after Yedam, and sometimes he finds himself trailing after you.

Yet there is something there, something hardened. Unquiet, and building.

—

Every time you drifted in the Jaeger, he got more flickers of your memories. And Yedam wonders if you get any of his.

He got more of himself out of your memories than he gets of you — like you’re always drawn to him, always wanting— needing to be with him, always wanting to touch him — and it should scare him how much you look up to him— how much your heart loves him. Yet it doesn’t.

+

Yedam asks, just once. And maybe again later. “What do you see in my mind?”

“I… — I don’t see anything.”

(That isn’t how drifting works. This isn’t Drift-compatibility — yet you’re almost perfect for one another).

—

He watches you. Yedam can’t help himself when he stands next to you. Can feel you stiffen, but you still stare at bluish, almost purple machine. You’re alone in the Jaeger hanger.

Yedam stares at you, and thinks maybe if you have to drift again, you won’t hate him.

(He knows he could never hate you).

He can’t explain it but he’s sure he’s always been connected to you.

“Why do I always feel connected to you?”

—

The first memory you see, is of you.

It’s weeks after, and it makes your heart swell. Your body heating up. You stare at him in disbelief, because this isn’t the time — not now, not here, there’s Monsters in front of us—

A part of Yedam whispers, You’re the one. It’s a feeling akin to the universe aligning. Yet it’s not sudden, or a realization, just there. You don't— can’t settle for anything less.

Your nerves prickle, and it feels frightening.

He forces you to help him, you do— but he does everything for you, and for himself. Yedam does everything, and a part of him whispers that he doesn’t need to expect anything in return.

The Jaeger’s limbs move when you move, together. The machine’s limbs all moved by hydraulics and muscle fibers driven by individual motors. The machine rattles, and it makes your heart drop.

(You kill six Kaiju, yet you don’t. Yedam does.

He leaves the machine quick, untangling himself from the wires and never looking back

You’re the one, you don’t like the way he stares at you when you catch his wrist. You don’t like the way he tells you to stop—).

—

You found him where you once stood. In an empty Jaeger hanger, hands curled over the guardrails, you’re the one — he stares down at his hands, knuckles bone-white. Tightening when the length of your body presses against his side, hands curling together over his arm, grounding into flesh like pulp. A sour taste in the back of his throat, “Maybe it’s apart of being drift-compatible… Always feeling connected.”

You stare at him like you know him. And every cell in his body burns, telling him you do.

“What if we drift again? Then… — then what?”

Your fingers tremble over skin, muscle, bone. And the look in your eyes is unbearable, tired. Afraid.

You give him a quiet look. You’re the one, his words etched inside your mind, forever.

“We won’t. Whatever we have… — It’s forever. As long as necessary.”

Yedam looks at you, swallowing. Adam’s apple bobbing. He says, “There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

(He wonders — what if this was meant to be? The flickers of him in your mind, burning, searing. Heavy in your head, in your heart. If there’s really no one else for him other than you…)