INTERPLANETARY
Title: INTERPLANETARY
Rating: PG
Pairing: Homin
Genre: AU
Summary: My (late) entry for the Spellbound Homin/Disney Crossover Anthology. Lilo & Stitch becomes Yunho and Shim? Featuring aliens, vague backstories, an angry landlord with a heart of gold, and rain. Lots of rain.
Changmin's not too concerned with the details of his escape. It's not like it matters, what's done is done and he's hurtling towards something, at any rate.
He wasn't concerned when he was turned to face the scrutiny of a council of authority, trapped under a glass dome like a microwavable meal.
He wasn't concerned when they leaned in, waiting for him to save himself, and he wasn't concerned when they reeled back from his words, sharp as his fanged teeth. Dr. Song even spared him a backward glance, eyebrow raised like 'really?' or maybe 'oh, I didn't think of that one'.
He wasn't concerned when they threw him into a laughable full-body restraint, two DNA-lock blasters trained on his face.
It took him about 1.5678 seconds to get bored of that, so he spit on the guard's face, wriggling out of his bonds as the blasters sent the guy to a black hole. Escape after that was as easy as a disgusting jaunt through the ventilation system, a ship theft, and a flick of a hyperdrive switch.
Changmin pops a breath mint into his mouth as the ship screams closer to impact. The cabin lights are flashing red. It's a pity, he likes the ship. Someone else did too, apparently, because it was the shiniest in the hangar, painted bright glossy carmine.
'<5467 I.M.U. UNTIL IMPACT>', the ship informs him.
'<3045 I.M.U. UNTIL IMPACT>'.
'<1034 I.M.U. UNTIL IMPACT. FATALITY IMMINENT IN 3, 2, 1...>'
Changmin braces a foot against the metal floor.
Jung Yunho comes home to his landlord sitting on his porch, giving him the foulest stink-eye he's been treated to since the cupcake thing last Christmas.
"Hi, sir," he says, hoping he sounds calm. Calm and stable! Like a normal person who isn't a week late with the rent payment. "Just the person I wanted to see!"
"Read my mind," Mr. Oca grunts as he makes an effort to stand.
Yunho pitches forward to help him, but instead steps on a push broom and nearly whacks them both with the handle as it flies up. Mr. Oca stops it with incredible reflexes, then looks at where Yunho's hand is grasping his wrist. His lip curls. Yunho becomes intensely aware of how sweaty and gross he is at the moment, and pulls his hand back with a grin.
"Sorry," he says (and goddammit his voice cracks). "Made good time! 38:40!"
He hopes Mr. Oca doesn't notice him wiping his hand on the back of his shorts.
Mr. Oca just narrows his eyes, and sticks a hand out. Yunho stares at him, until he remembers.
"Oh! God! Right, got it right- here-" He hits the deck and peers under the broken swing bench until he sees the envelope. "Aha!" A quick tug and it's in his hands, ready to be...put into the never-ending cycle of monthly payments.
He thrusts it out towards Mr. Oca, who just frowns. "Tada. Your rent payment!"
"It only took ten days longer than it should have," Mr. Oca says, his tone icy. He takes the envelope, checking the amount inside with a quick glance.
"Pleasure doing business with you, see you next month-" Yunho edges towards his door, ready to be done with this awkward conversation and in the shower.
"Jung." Yunho stops. Mr. Oca commands all his attention, but he's avoiding Yunho's eyes. "You can't keep going like this," he says.
"I know, I swear this is the last time, well, maybe the last time that it's this late, I'm almost done with the school payments-"
"No. That's exactly what I mean. It's always going to be something."
Yunho's heart drops into his stomach with a freezing splash of something bitter.
"Mr. Oca, I-"
"Jung, I don't think you're going to catch up on this place. And I'm saying...I'm saying, as a friend of your family, I know what this place means to you, but it might be time to reconsider your priorities. Get a different place. A smaller one."
Yunho feels his face rearrange into something he can rely on. It's hard and it hurts, but it's the only solid thing he has left.
"Sir. Please. I promise. No more late payments. Just...just give me one more chance. If you know what it means to me."
Mr. Oca trains his gaze on Yunho, like he's weighing the sincerity in his words. After a tense moment, he lets out a big breath.
"Fine. But only. One. More. Chance. Don't let me down, or you will be out of here."
Yunho tries to aim a tired smile in Mr. Oca's direction. Mr. Oca just scowls before he stomps down the porch steps towards the street, and Yunho lets his head drop. A cool shower and a beer would be great right now.
Yunho finds himself back on the porch later that night, watching the sun dip below the horizon line in a flash of brilliant orange.
A cool glass of water chills his hand- he'd forgotten, no room for beer in the budget- and a frozen towel is laying around his neck. In other words, beautiful scenery, beautiful coldness, and beautiful...borderline poverty.
He sighs and takes a swig of the water. The sky slowly darkens, and deep purple creeps after the last glow of daylight. Stars twinkle into sight. There's no moon tonight to obscure their visibility. The clouds have been building up since the afternoon, though, and Yunho thinks he should probably move his pepper and tomato plants out so they can get a drink too. At the very least, he won't fail his special babies- even if he's sure his mother's finicky plumeria and orchids hate him.
"Don't worry, guys...I can handle this," he says, smiling up at the stars. 'I miss you,' he thinks, taking a deep breath of ocean air.
One star catches his eye. It's bright, and it's falling- at first slow, then it begins streaking faster towards the horizon. Yunho's lips quirk, and he finds himself making a wish- let me keep this house, that's all. It's...important.
Then the star screams by just overhead and he thinks 'maybe that was not a star'. Unless stars are typically candy apple red like a prized classic car.
He stands and starts when there's a huge crashing noise in the trees behind his house, where the star was headed. At that moment, the clouds decide that it's definitely time to unleash a downpour. Yunho hesitates, before grabbing his flip flops and running out into the rain.
Changmin pulls himself out of the driver's seat.
He's fine, but the ship probably needs a little work. He picks his way towards the hatch, and pokes his head out. It's soaked after two seconds. The planet is apparently a wet one.
He shimmies out of the hatch and surveys the area, letting the water drench him until it streams down his body. The court-issued containment suit sticks even closer to his skin. His lip curls. New clothes would be nice, maybe something a little less 'intergalactic fugitive' and a little more 'debonair universal terror'. The area around the ship is all green, green, green, dyed neon red in flashes by his ship's fading engine lights. The sky here is deep violet, and he can see familiar star patterns above.
Changmin slip-slides down the side of the ship, landing in wet dirt. He makes his way through the thick foliage, noting waxy leaves and bright flowers that brush his cheeks. His enhanced vision comes in handy- it's getting very dark under the cover of the trees. His feet hit solid ground- a wide path.
All directions seem to lead nowhere, empty and dark. Changmin frowns, scanning the horizon for signs of civilization to wipe out. Because to be honest, his blood is thrumming with 'kill kill kill' since the ship chase and he's ready to cause mayhem and chaos, get some blood on his hands and blood on his teeth and he's gotta KILL SOMETHING KILL TONIGHT KILL SHIT-
The only thing he registers through the haze of red is bright light and a loud bellow like a dying creature.
Yunho is approaching the highway when he hears the bone-rattling horn of a truck and the squealing of tires.
He picks up the pace, sandals slapping in the mud until he sees the truck. The front door of the cab is hanging open, and two figures are hunched on the ground. The rain drowns their voices out until Yunho comes close, and he's glad he didn't have any food to eat for dinner.
An arm sticks out from under the truck, pale and unmoving in the mud.
The driver is mumbling to his friend, voice on the edge of hysteria. "I didn't...didn't even see him...the wheels..."
Yunho apologizes and shoves him out of the way. He grabs the arm and pulls, and he thanks his lucky stars the body is attached and slides out with it.
He kneels down and finds himself staring, because he's just pulled out some...some sort of gorgeous movie star kind of person, and then they're opening their eyes and blinking at him, before they grab his shoulders and try to headbutt him.
Or ...or hug him. They're hugging him. He hugs back, because he's suddenly so relieved this person is alive.
The driver and his friend are still gibbering behind him, so he twists and shoots them a huge grin. "He's alive!"
The driver's friend just holds out a shaking arm, pointing behind Yunho.
"W-wheels," he says, eyes wide.
Yunho frowns. "What?"
The person in his arms shifts, tightening their grip on his back.
"Look what he did to the wheels."
Yunho looks back at the tires, and sees. The front two sets, undercarriage and axel and all, are completely wrecked.
After some introductions, Changmin is taken to Jung Yunho's home.
He eyes the pastel shack as they approach it with squelching footsteps. Jung is filling the air with so many words it makes Changmin's head hurt, but in a good way. He's familiar with the basics, at least, thanks to his creator, and he can catalogue the language as he listens. By the time they track mud all over the porch, Changmin has determined the classification and a rough formula for the grammar. He thinks maybe he can manage rudimentary responses. He is grateful his genetics are calibrated for intelligence.
Jung cooks him triangles on the stove and gives it to him. He eats them whole, and finds Jung staring at him.
"Um...," Jung's eyes dart towards the cold storage. "Should I make you another sandwich? It's no problem."
Changmin shakes his head. He tries to imagine how to best ask for cleaning. Apparently it's not a simple hand gesture like running a hand down the length of his body, because Jung turns bright red in the face.
"What? I ...uh." Jung clears his throat.
Changmin tries again, gesturing this time instead to his clothes and making a circular gesture over his stomach. He licks his lips.
"Wet," he tries, using Jung's words from earlier.
Jung squints, before brightening. He hits his hands together.
"Oh! You want...you want a shower?"
Changmin shakes his head. "No. I have triangle." He thinks again, remembering Jung's words. "Sandwich."
They look at each other for a moment. Jung's frowning at him, mouth slightly ajar. His finger points weakly at the cold storage.
"Sandwich?" Jung says again.
Changmin sighs, gesturing to his body. "I...wet...you, I, wet, not wet, wet not wet. You. I. Wet not wet. No sandwich. OK?" He makes the 'OK' sign that Jung used.
Jung doesn't look like he's okay with it, but he grabs Changmin's hand. Changmin tenses, but he's already established Jung as partial to physical contact, considering he accepted a peaceful greeting cling, so he's not too worried. It would have been easier for Jung to kill him when he was down, if he was going to.
Jung pulls him upstairs, and hands him a fluffy cloth.
"The shower is in there," Jung says, pointing at a door.
"Shower," Changmin says. "You? Shower?"
Jung is turning red again, and he's laughing. "Um, no, I'll go after you."
Changmin eyes him, not sure what the point of separate cleaning is, but steps inside anyways. It's a small tiled room with dials and appliances. There's more than enough room for the both of them. He begins to peel his containment suit off, checking out the cleaning apparatus, when Jung makes a weird noise behind him.
"I'll get you some spare clothes," Jung says in a rush, before running down the hall.
Changmin ignores him and inspects the dials on the wall. There's a smaller bowl-shaped form on the other side of the room, but he suspects it's for personal waste and not cleaning. He tosses the containment suit off and rounds on the main dial. When he pulls it, water streams out of a hose attachment and begins to drench him. He frowns through the stream. He knows it's necessary, but he hates getting wet. He stands there until Jung almost trips and drops everything when he comes back.
"Sorry! I didn't know you started, I'm so sorry," Jung babbles, trying to avert his eyes.
Changmin just turns back to the assorted cleaning solutions. "OK. No-" he thinks about how to say 'he doesn't care', running through his conversations with Jung for materials. "No...problem. No problem. You, I, wet. OK."
Jung just dumps a pile of things on the counter and leaves.
So Changmin's a little weird, Yunho thinks. It's fine. He likes weird stuff. Like Elvis records and kitsch. Changmin's not really kitsch, but he's interesting, with his weird accent and intense gaze. Yunho wonders where he's from.
Changmin emerges from the bathroom in sweats, and Yunho registers golden skin that's just a shade too luminescent, limbs that are a little too long when they fold up on the couch, and little fangs that show when Changmin yawns. He amends his thoughts. Changmin's beyond simply weird. Yunho clears his throat. Delicacy is necessary here.
"You're not a human, are you?"
Changmin's eyes flick up to Yunho, and his fingers twitch towards nothing at his hip. Yunho throws his hands up in a hopefully non-threatening gesture.
"No biggie. Just a hunch. You uh...you can stay here, until...y'know, whenever."
Changmin's hand falls back to the couch, but his eyes stay glued to Yunho.
"Stay?" Changmin says, his head drifting into a tilt.
Yunho nods. "Whatever, it's not like...I don't have the room."
It's oddly elegant, the way Changmin's long limbs fold into one another as he nods with a little smile.
"So um. You're not human, right?" Yunho says, leaning an arm across the back of the couch.
Changmin shakes his head. "M'not you."
"Oh." Yunho frowns. "So...you're not. Are you like...a vampire? A werewolf?"
Changmin just looks at him, squinting.
"It's like a ...dog? A dog person? They turn into monsters on the full moon..."
He must say something right, because Changmin's eyes light up. "Moon."
"Yes. The moon. Do you feel uh...different, around the full moon?"
"Around the moon. Different. Different way."
"Werewolf, then, I'd reckon."
"Around the moon. Left. Left. Right." His words dissolve into growling, except it's little short bursts of staccato rumbles, combined with a strange stretch of his tongue every so often. It's really freaky.
"Ok. So my werewolf friend. As long as you don't kill any-"
Changmin bursts off the couch in a flurry of movement.
"Kill. Kill. Kill." His body is tense and he looks down at Yunho like they just climbed a mountain together, and he leans down. "Kill, kill, kill," he murmurs, and then he's sitting in Yunho's lap and...and... licking Yunho's face.
"Jesus fuck," Yunho says, unsure of what to do and slightly terrified.
Changmin's all up on his neck now, lapping at his jaw, and it's oddly sensual but Yunho feels like he shouldn't allow this to continue.
"Okay, okay, stop, I don't know what- stop whispering 'kill' that is really not okay."
Changmin is still nuzzling into Yunho's hair and Yunho pushes him back. He grabs his face.
"You can't say that. Anywhere. Changmin?"
Changmin finally calms down, looking straight at Yunho.
"If you're going to stay here, you can't go around saying that. No. No 'kill', okay?"
Changmin's face sort of crumples, and he raises his eyebrow. "No kill?"
"No."
Changmin settles back down into Yunho's lap, and Yunho's face feels slightly warm.
"No problem," Changmin says, his fingers plucking at Yunho's knees below him.
Yunho takes a deep breath. "No problem," he agrees.
Changmin knows there's a laser beam focused on him.
He's in Yunho's extra nest, trying not to destroy the blankets he's been given. They smell strongly of weakness and the rain he was caught in earlier, and they make his face hurt. The laser beam disappears after several minutes. He hears arguing from outside, where the laser beam retracted to.
"You can't kill him!" a voice hisses, muffled by Yunho's windows.
"Why not? We have to." Another voice, much calmer. Familiar. Dr. Song.
"We were ordered to bring him back alive for punishment!"
"Or dead, if I decide it's necessary. I know my creation. It's necessary. This saves time."
"No. We capture him. If that doesn't work..."
"Then we can destroy him?"
"Then we can destroy him."
The voices are quiet after that, and Changmin curls into the smelly blankets. He'd like to see them try.
The next morning, Changmin steals a vehicle.
He figures out the controls in short order and pulls it up to Yunho, who is doing something weird to the plants in front of his house.
"Hungry?" Changmin asks.
Yunho straightens up and stares at him.
Changmin tries again. "Triangles. Let's go get triangles."
Yunho comes around to his side without a word, then gently pulls him from the seat. He holds Changmin's arms and looks into his eyes.
"Changmin, go back and apologize to Mr. Kalo for stealing his truck," he says slowly.
Changmin frowns. "...we driving?"
Yunho sighs.
Together, they drive the truck back to the little house down the road. Yunho screams apologies to a deaf old man sitting on the porch. He demonstrates the exchange of currency for goods at a stand, handing a cone filled with ice to Changmin. Changmin's lip curls at the cold feeling against his palm, but he follows Yunho to a picnic table nearby. He lets his ice turn into colorful sludge, choosing instead to watch Yunho devour half of his in a few bites. Yunho has great teeth. Changmin feels mild attraction towards his host.
"Your speech has gotten much clearer," Yunho says.
"I'm very smart," Changmin says.
Yunho laughs. A warm breeze ruffles their hair, thick with the sweet smell from Yunho's blankets. Changmin sniffs it, noticing it doesn't smell quite as unpleasant now.
"Probably jasmine."
"Jasmine," Changmin repeats. "What?"
"The smell. The jasmine flowers are blooming. It's my favorite flower." Yunho leans back against the table, paper cone empty in his hand. "I like seeing them after sundown."
Yunho looks soft for a moment, staring out to nothing in particular. Changmin sips at his cone. Yunho glances back up at him, then pats his leg. Kill kill, Changmin thinks, then bites his cheek. No.
"You coming with me tonight? I work," Yunho says.
His hand stays on Changmin's leg, burning through his borrowed shorts. Changmin nods.
Yunho likes his job, even though the pay is low. It's one part waiting tables, one part entertaining, and one part spitting fire near dazzled tourists. He's not quite got the last part down 100%, and sometimes he gets a little blackened around the hairline, but his customers love it. More importantly, they love his dancing.
He spits a little extra fuel out and glances over to Changmin's table, hidden in a dark corner. Changmin's holding a sandwich up to his lips, but he looks spellbound by the fire tricks. Yunho grins and heads over.
"You like?"
Changmin nods. "Like. A lot."
Then he sorta mouths at the sandwich before it disappears in a flash of teeth, and Yunho has to wrangle a very misplaced, very confused feeling to its death inside of him.
The boss calls his name, and Yunho pushes his sooty hair back. He only leaves for like, five seconds- he's sure of it.
But somehow there's screaming and the sound of tables being thrown, and he and the boss turn to stare at the utter chaos in front of them. Changmin is perched on the fence, teeth bared and looking like he's about to lunge at a pair of screaming tourists clutching a sandwich.
"What on Earth is going on here?!" the boss bellows.
Yunho's heart pounds. The tourists whirl around to look at the crowd- and wow one of the women is wearing a really ugly and obvious wig.
"No problems here! Kid is just uh...hungry! Come down from there, kiddo, here's a nice sandwich you can chew up! You can come home with us, we missed you so!"
There's something wrong about their speech, it's harsh and clipped in weird places and Yunho finally realizes they speak like Changmin.
"Get away from him," he says, anger simmering under his skin.
His nails dig into his palms, and he feels an uncomfortable crackle of tension along his shoulders. The woman in the wig looks at the other woman, who is wearing big sunglasses despite the darkness.
Sunglasses finally speaks up. Her accent is incredibly thick.
"Ah, you see, this is-"
"No," Changmin hisses. Hisses, as in there's definitely some throat action involved.
He looks up at Yunho, eyes dark and shining. Some customers are leaving, huddled over and glancing back with wary faces.
"Yunho, get your friend out of here now," his boss says. "I can't believe you'd bring trouble here." His voice is tight, and he makes his way to the tourists.
Yunho leaves, knowing he won't be coming back. Changmin follows him in the shadows, saying nothing.
Changmin thinks that his time with Yunho might be over, but Yunho stops at a little hut and buys something. He pushes a paper cup into Changmin's hands, already sipping from his own.
"It's?" Changmin asks, tilting his hand and preparing to try it the same way Yunho is.
"Macchiato. Espresso with milk. A specialty of this place. It's good."
Changmin takes one gulp and grimaces at the bitter tang, hidden under smooth creamy sweetness. After the initial shock, it is good. He drinks half of it.
Yunho is walking back to the road, so he follows. They pass through dark groves of trees, making their way over dirt paths covered in dry tree fronds. The fronds catch moonlight in a strange way, creating a silvery web Changmin steps along carefully. The breeze from earlier is a little stronger, a little cooler now. It's more fragrant, too, sweet and cloying with a hint of salt and rain.
"Jasmine," Changmin murmurs.
Yunho hums in agreement, passing behind a bush with big red flowers just starting to close up with the sun's absence. Then Changmin sees it. In the distance is Yunho's little house. But in front of him is a huge wall of deep dark green, practically glowing with tiny, white flowers. Tendrils reach out in all directions, looking for the best way to grow. The smell is nearly overwhelming now. Changmin's more struck by how much the little flowers on the dark leaves look like space up above, the spacescape of this planet with its stars and its deep sky.
He leaves the little sky and keeps after Yunho. It's fairly obvious Yunho is angry with him. He doesn't wait for Changmin to catch up once he reaches the house, and he's not saying much. His half full cup lands in the bin with a thud. Changmin's not sure what else to do, so he trails after him, avoiding the random items being tossed to the floor. Yunho's done a good job of removing most of his clothing, and Changmin's starting to follow suit when Yunho turns and huffs out a laugh.
"Shit," Yunho says, before flopping down on the bed.
Changmin tosses away his shirt, and lingers in the doorway. Creeping uncertainty slows his thoughts. He wants to destroy his creator, the two that made things like this. Kill. The red haze boils under his skin.
But for now, he needs to fix things with Yunho. Yunho doesn't move for a moment, then jolts up to look at Changmin.
"You okay?"
Changmin nods, and approaches Yunho carefully. He stands by his bedside, anticipatory. He thinks Yunho might dismiss him. Instead, Yunho pats the space next to him on the bed. Changmin sits where Yunho indicated.
"Mad?" he asks, looking down at where Yunho's arm covers his face.
"No. Yes. A little," Yunho says. His fingers make a pinching gesture. Changmin leans down a little.
"I don't know...," he admits. How to fix this, he knows the words in many languages, but not this one.
Yunho doesn't offer any words to help him communicate it, so he settles for what he's heard.
"Sorry."
Yunho just shakes his head. "Saw it coming."
Changmin slowly lies back, until he would be looking right into Yunho's eyes. He watches him, and neither of them say anything. Long after Yunho dozes off, Changmin rolls to look over the edge of the bed.
There's a book down there, halfway in the shadow, and he hooks it with his fingers. He flips through the pages without moving from the bed. It's a story about a boy and a girl and their guardians, and it tells him that they are called a 'family'.
One page falls open easier than the others. Between the pages, there is a small picture- a boy and a girl and their guardians. It doesn't take long to realize the boy is Yunho- smaller, but with the same smile.
On the page below, there's one sentence. Changmin takes a moment to analyze the letters, before running a finger over the words.
"Family means nobody gets left behind," he says, hardly more than a whisper.
His stomach growls, and he makes his way out of the dark bedroom after replacing the photo. Yunho's fridge is barren except for some jars of liquid, so he takes one and fishes the little vegetables out of it. He chews on them and stares through the wall at the galaxy bush, off in the distance.
"Family," he says, enjoying the taste of the word.
Yunho wakes up feeling much, much, much better.
He squeezes his arms around whatever is warm and stretches, burying his face against soft skin and softer hair. Then he wakes up. He shoves away from the whatever, and sees the strange blank face of Changmin, eyes dark and observant.
"Someone is here," Changmin says, and Yunho squints.
"What?"
A loud knocking has him stumbling out of bed. Changmin's lips are drawn into a funny little pout, and Yunho won't admit he laughs a little at the expression. Out on the porch, Mr. Oca's expression is considerably less endearing and definitely not as amused.
"Jung. Heard a story at Noni's this morning-" he freezes as a weight settles on Yunho's shoulder.
Changmin yawns next to his ear. "Hello," he says.
Yunho tries not to implode. Job. Roommate. Eviction. Contract. If this moment was happening when he was any more awake, he'd probably be having a minor panic attack. As it is, he just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Mr. Oca! This is my...my, uh," roommate, for the extra income, I know this is absolutely not a sublet but- "Fiance!" fuck WHAT
Changmin thankfully appears to be ignorant about that word, and just mumbles something like 'fambly' against his shoulder. Mr. Oca...does nothing, just scowls.
"Charmed," he says, before crossing his arms. "You lost your job."
Yunho's heart drops to slump somewhere around his bellybutton.
"I-" he starts, but Mr. Oca holds up a hand.
"Get a job. By the end of the week. Or you're out. I'm done with it Jung, I really can't keep this up."
There's a silence, one where neither of them can meet each others' eyes, and Yunho swallows. "Yeah. Got it."
He shuts the door and immediately slides down to the floor.
"I'm dead," he groans.
Changmin replies with a confused "no...?", before Yunho hops back up and drags him into the kitchen.
"You're right. No, I'm not. We can still turn this around," he mutters, grabbing a handful of newspapers from the mountain of clutter on the counter.
Changmin's conveniently right on his heels, as per usual, and he accepts them without comment.
"Check the page called 'help wanted'- circle anything that asks for someone young and strong. I'm gonna call a few of my friends, see if they've got anything." Changmin stands there before fixing a really unsettling gaze on the newspapers.
"We can still turn this around," he repeats.
"That's what I said!" Yunho calls out cheerfully before going to fetch his phone.
Sometimes his fake fiance creeps him out.
Yunho bursts through the kitchen door after his circuit of potential employers. It's been a worthwhile pursuit- he's one bag of food richer than when he left, courtesy of Ms. JoJo, and one conversation away from a job- a job performing. Light is shining upon him and he is gonna photosynthesize the hell out of it, nevermind that there's a 90% chance of rain today.
Changmin is still hunched over the kitchen table. Yunho doesn't miss the way his eyes flick to the bag, or the gurgle from his stomach.
"Food," he announces. "Any luck?"
"I did the circles," Changmin says. His tone is hesitant, and yes he did indeed do the circles holy shit.
The paper is covered in little red circles, each perfectly round. There's something written along the top that he can't make out from the door.
"Uh, thanks, good." Yunho sets the bag down.
"You and I," he says, leaning in conspiratorially. Those big eyes settle on him, curious. "You and I are gonna eat this mac n' cheese. Then we're gonna go to the theatre and I'm gonna get a job. And maybe you'll get a job too."
Changmin glances down and up and down again, then over to the bag.
"Macancheese," he says.
"Yup." Yunho snags the bag with a finger and tugs it closer. "Never had?" he asks.
Changmin shakes his head.
"Well you're crazy about grilled cheese, so you'll probably like this."
Getting a spoonful into Changmin's mouth is oddly time-consuming, Changmin's being timid and seems wary of the color. Until he tastes it. Then Yunho kind of wishes he had enjoyed picky Changmin a little more.
They clean house, eating every last little macaroni. Yunho goes to collect the bag when Changmin gets all up in his space.
"Macancheese," he says, and Yunho is terrified that Changmin's snapped and is going to eat his face off. "Your face," Changmin adds helpfully.
"Yeah?" Yunho rasps.
Changmin touches his own mouth, then his eyes shift up to Yunho's.
"Can I have it?" Changmin says, and......oh.
Maybe Changmin's not so great at verbal communication but the mischievous glimmer in his eyes is goddamn universal. There's the tiniest pressure to his mouth, before Changmin leans back, licking his lips.
"Five minutes," Yunho says, then staggers to his feet and slam dunks the plastic bag in the trashcan.
He leaves Changmin preening in the kitchen.
Changmin is chalking it up to unclear instructions and his own poor judgement, but defining the cause isn't helping the effect because he's going to fucking lose it. One second he was listening to the pleasant twangs of some instrument while Yunho laughs with some worker at the theatre, the next second his vocal organs are making some noise he's never made before and everyone's gaping and crowding him.
There's flashes and weird devices being shoved in his face and he can't keep making the good, harmonious noise because he's getting overwhelmed and he can't remember how to say go away and his killing instinct is screaming and he wants to scream too and- and-...he does.
He does scream.
There's a huge blast of something that pours out of his very being and then everyone else is screaming too. Screaming and running. It doesn't feel as good as he thought it would.
It's no time at all before he's the one running, after Yunho who is not speaking to him, not listening to him, not looking at him. Now the only words he's trying to remember are I'm sorry- Yunho turns on his heel.
Changmin stops short at the sight of his face.
"I need you," Yunho grits out, "to leave. I want you to go away."
He steps towards Changmin, and Changmin mirrors it with a step away, suddenly uncertain.
"You have just-" Yunho takes a deep breath, and his face goes placid. The anger is still hot in his eyes when he opens them again, taking Changmin in from a far away place.
"I am going to take care of this mess, then I am going to take care of the house, the final ownership shit. I don't care what you do, but you're not coming with me." His voice is calm and very quiet, but it's full of knives and sharp edges.
"I wish I never met you."
Changmin watches him go down the dirt road. His mind is quiet for once, no instinctual urge to destroy anything. His legs yearn loudly to follow Yunho, so much that his muscles hurt with the tension. The breeze picks up, ruffling his hair and filling his senses with salt and jasmine.
Yunho left him behind.
He doesn't notice the loop around his neck and shoulders until it's too late.
Yunho runs down the road, the past twenty minutes racing through his head on fast-forward.
He's gotta find Changmin.
Somehow, sending twenty members of the theater troupe flying was a good thing- The director literally bouncing out of the pile of collapsed chairs, babbling something about 'the talent we need-'.
Yunho had backed away, nodding as the director pleaded him to bring his 'stage partner' back, then turning and breaking into a run. He has a job, he can save the house, but Changmin's apparently disappeared into thin air, because he's not by the theater or the road or the walk-in. Yunho's remembering some of the things he's said and it's twisting his insides around.
The wind starts to pick up, and dark clouds roll closer over the rough seas. Yunho calls out Changmin's name, avoiding a flying paper cup. He pokes around the house, mentally pleading that he'll find Changmin on the porch or at the kitchen table eating all his food- but he won't because Changmin always does what Yunho says.
Don't say 'kill', take a shower, circle some words, go away.
The newspaper is still in the kitchen, and Yunho pauses- notices the little lines of words across the top just say 'family' over and over again. The first few are messy and badly formed, but by the last line all the letters are even and sure.
Yunho growls in frustration. Where would Changmin go?
He looks towards the forest with a terrible sensation dawning on him. He takes off into a sprint, legs pumping to launch him around the trees and bushes.
Changmin hates rain.
Of course, it starts to rain when his head is being pushed into the dirt and Dr. Song is standing over him triumphantly. His other captor, a man, is babbling something about a call, but Dr. Song is taking her time.
"Changmin, honestly. Do you know how much time and money I spent finding you? Well, no, of course it's not my money, but still."
"Dr. Song, we should really call the Imperess now-" The man is saying, high and nervous.
"No, I don't think I will." Dr. Song says. "He's mine."
The man splutters. "Are you- are you suggesting treason!?"
Dr. Song huffs a laugh. "Come on, Cho, it's not like it's surprising. Let me out of prison to capture my own creation, then what? I go right back in?"
She pats Changmin's head with a cold hand.
"Now that I have this," a prod of the noose, "again, I can do whatever I want. Right, Choikang Changmin, #626? Now we can be free."
Changmin growls. Dr. Song recoils for a moment.
"626. I understand avoiding capture by the Imperess, it's in your nature, but...what is with this...this...belligerence? We can go, you can be free to wreck and wreak chaos and...and, oh, killing. We can kill!"
Changmin writhes and snarls at the word. Yunho said it was bad, and Yunho's honestly the only opinion he cares about.
"No, no killing!" he says, voice rasping.
"D-Dr. S-S-Song," Cho stammers out, finally.
Changmin had forgotten about him. There's a dead silence after the words, and Changmin looks over with some effort.
The man has a blaster aimed at Dr. Song, but the laser sight is shaking violently and his face is sickly white. He's terrified.
Changmin rolls his eyes.
He pushes off the ground hard enough to rear up and send a roundhouse kick towards Dr. Song, spinning in the noose.
Dr. Song immediately twists the noose and slams him into a tree. Cho screams and shoots, but it just fries a random tree branch. Changmin gets pulled into a bush, and Dr. Song looms over him, her face manic.
"Maybe I was wrong about you being the perfect killing machine, if you can't even get out of this easy little loop."
Then she's gone with a loud thud. Changmin struggles to his feet, and Yunho's there, grabbing his hands and helping him up.
"Are you okay, what the hell are these guys doing-"
Changmin just flies at him and wraps his arms around his neck.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-"
Yunho's arms are solid around him, and he presses his face to Changmin's neck.
"No, it's- it's not your-"
There's a sudden absence of rain and a lot of light, and they both look up. A massive black void hovers above the trees, broken up by neon lights and bars.
"What on earth-" Yunho says, face slack.
Changmin looks over at Cho. There's a communication device in his hand. His eyes are wide, and he trembles.
"S-sorry," he squeaks.
There's a split second where Changmin tries to decide whether the ship he rode in on might still be functional. A split second where he meets Yunho's eyes. Then his fingers are wrapped around his wrist and they're running, wet leaves and fronds slapping their faces as they tear through the trees. All he can think is that he's not leaving Yunho behind, but he can't possibly take Yunho with him.
He stops short and Yunho slams into him. It sends them sliding into a muddy trench. They lay there for a moment, stunned.
Yunho picks himself up. "Changmin, what the- why did you stop?"
Changmin grabs his face, ignoring the mud that smears across his cheek.
"You...you can't-" he murmurs. He's forgotten how to talk, he can't remember what he wants to say.
Yunho's face gets very dark, and he mirrors Changmin's grip, holding tight to Changmin's jaw.
"You're not leaving me behind," he says.
"Not-"
Yunho smashes his lips into Changmin, and it almost hurts except that it's Yunho, it's his family- the Imperial Ship is descending behind Yunho's head, and Changmin narrows his eyes and gasps against Yunho's mouth.
"I want you to be safe," he says in his own words, his own sounds, and Yunho's eyebrows furrow with confusion.
He runs his thumb across Yunho's muddy cheek and flips them over with a great shove.
"Changmin no, I want-"
Yunho's face is all he sees as he feels the Imperial ship's hold on him, and he never wants to leave Yunho behind but this time it's necessary- he takes some kind of ugly comfort in the fact that Yunho's screaming for him.
Yunho lays in the trench for a long time.
It feels like a long time, at least, since the mothership disappeared somewhere to his right, and he struggles to scramble up through his rising panic.
"Changmin! Changmin!" He bounds through the trees to the open air, and sees the mothership looming in the distance, not gaining altitude yet. Yunho grasps his hair and tugs. It's moving further and further, slow but definite, and he can't do anything. His heart is ripping into a chasm because shit Changmin is up there, and- and- there's an explosion on the left side.
Yunho watches, mouth hanging open, as more explosions balloon around the ship, burning holes into his vision. He already running as the ship groans and begins falling, headed straight for the beach.
All self-preservation is lost as it screams 50 feet above his head, and it's only by sheer chance he finds Changmin's lanky figure yanking itself from a hatch and straightening up against the dark purple clouds, wrongside up and defying all rules of gravity. His eyes are neon pinpricks leaving trails of light as the ship soars by, and Yunho stops, seeing what Changmin is in this moment, a terror.
Then those eyes turns towards him and Changmin smiles and waves. Yunho waves back hesitantly.
Changmin launches himself into the air, flipping through the airstream. The ship crushes into the surf as Changmin lands neatly in front of Yunho, eyes still glowing and antennae popping out from his hair.
Yunho doesn't care, just pulls him in to kiss him around sharp teeth and only lets him stop to murmur 'I love you, I love you, you're my family."
Yunho's had a rough week.
There's been a lot of job troubles, in addition to all the aliens. He got through a tense meeting with the grand Imperess of something or other, signed on to the court as (well-paid) Manager of Exile for his new fiance and his keepers, and settled his rental security with Mr. Oca, who, in addition to being his landlord, is ex-M.I.B. and was incredibly unhappy with the poor treatment offered to the grand Imperess of something or other.
And he has to go to his theater job in an hour.
His fiance/ward is sitting across from him, circling things on the newspaper. Changmin's made some kind of yellow rectangle-shaped breakfast thing, and he grabs another one. There's loud thumping upstairs, and Yunho figures Dr. Song and Cho have woken up and started fighting over the bathroom. There's a frown on Changmin's face, and he leans further into the newspaper.
"Wanna go to work?" Yunho offers sympathetically.
Changmin's eyes flick up to his over the paper, narrowing as he sighs.
They pack up some rectangles and walk to work together. They're only twenty minutes late so far thanks to Changmin's jasmine fetish. He'll just record it as 'personal hobbies' when he reports in.
Changmin's got jasmine petals in his hair and he's looking with imploring eyes over to the beach, and Yunho laughs. Changmin will do anything Yunho says, but Yunho will do anything Changmin asks.
That evening he'll probably come home to his landlord/boss sitting on his porch, more aliens, a good running time, whatever, but all he'll be concerned with is a beer and shower, and a star that fell in his backyard.
I'm aliiiive! \o/ and...late for the thing I promised I'd submit on time ugh SORRY teyahtimeay you are magnificent for helping to set all this up though.
this was difficult to write for some reason, but it's DONE. plus, I'll be back to normal internet access in one month, so that's exciting! I'll also have access to triangles again. Oh my.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Homin
Genre: AU
Summary: My (late) entry for the Spellbound Homin/Disney Crossover Anthology. Lilo & Stitch becomes Yunho and Shim? Featuring aliens, vague backstories, an angry landlord with a heart of gold, and rain. Lots of rain.
Changmin's not too concerned with the details of his escape. It's not like it matters, what's done is done and he's hurtling towards something, at any rate.
He wasn't concerned when he was turned to face the scrutiny of a council of authority, trapped under a glass dome like a microwavable meal.
He wasn't concerned when they leaned in, waiting for him to save himself, and he wasn't concerned when they reeled back from his words, sharp as his fanged teeth. Dr. Song even spared him a backward glance, eyebrow raised like 'really?' or maybe 'oh, I didn't think of that one'.
He wasn't concerned when they threw him into a laughable full-body restraint, two DNA-lock blasters trained on his face.
It took him about 1.5678 seconds to get bored of that, so he spit on the guard's face, wriggling out of his bonds as the blasters sent the guy to a black hole. Escape after that was as easy as a disgusting jaunt through the ventilation system, a ship theft, and a flick of a hyperdrive switch.
Changmin pops a breath mint into his mouth as the ship screams closer to impact. The cabin lights are flashing red. It's a pity, he likes the ship. Someone else did too, apparently, because it was the shiniest in the hangar, painted bright glossy carmine.
'<5467 I.M.U. UNTIL IMPACT>', the ship informs him.
'<3045 I.M.U. UNTIL IMPACT>'.
'<1034 I.M.U. UNTIL IMPACT. FATALITY IMMINENT IN 3, 2, 1...>'
Changmin braces a foot against the metal floor.
Jung Yunho comes home to his landlord sitting on his porch, giving him the foulest stink-eye he's been treated to since the cupcake thing last Christmas.
"Hi, sir," he says, hoping he sounds calm. Calm and stable! Like a normal person who isn't a week late with the rent payment. "Just the person I wanted to see!"
"Read my mind," Mr. Oca grunts as he makes an effort to stand.
Yunho pitches forward to help him, but instead steps on a push broom and nearly whacks them both with the handle as it flies up. Mr. Oca stops it with incredible reflexes, then looks at where Yunho's hand is grasping his wrist. His lip curls. Yunho becomes intensely aware of how sweaty and gross he is at the moment, and pulls his hand back with a grin.
"Sorry," he says (and goddammit his voice cracks). "Made good time! 38:40!"
He hopes Mr. Oca doesn't notice him wiping his hand on the back of his shorts.
Mr. Oca just narrows his eyes, and sticks a hand out. Yunho stares at him, until he remembers.
"Oh! God! Right, got it right- here-" He hits the deck and peers under the broken swing bench until he sees the envelope. "Aha!" A quick tug and it's in his hands, ready to be...put into the never-ending cycle of monthly payments.
He thrusts it out towards Mr. Oca, who just frowns. "Tada. Your rent payment!"
"It only took ten days longer than it should have," Mr. Oca says, his tone icy. He takes the envelope, checking the amount inside with a quick glance.
"Pleasure doing business with you, see you next month-" Yunho edges towards his door, ready to be done with this awkward conversation and in the shower.
"Jung." Yunho stops. Mr. Oca commands all his attention, but he's avoiding Yunho's eyes. "You can't keep going like this," he says.
"I know, I swear this is the last time, well, maybe the last time that it's this late, I'm almost done with the school payments-"
"No. That's exactly what I mean. It's always going to be something."
Yunho's heart drops into his stomach with a freezing splash of something bitter.
"Mr. Oca, I-"
"Jung, I don't think you're going to catch up on this place. And I'm saying...I'm saying, as a friend of your family, I know what this place means to you, but it might be time to reconsider your priorities. Get a different place. A smaller one."
Yunho feels his face rearrange into something he can rely on. It's hard and it hurts, but it's the only solid thing he has left.
"Sir. Please. I promise. No more late payments. Just...just give me one more chance. If you know what it means to me."
Mr. Oca trains his gaze on Yunho, like he's weighing the sincerity in his words. After a tense moment, he lets out a big breath.
"Fine. But only. One. More. Chance. Don't let me down, or you will be out of here."
Yunho tries to aim a tired smile in Mr. Oca's direction. Mr. Oca just scowls before he stomps down the porch steps towards the street, and Yunho lets his head drop. A cool shower and a beer would be great right now.
Yunho finds himself back on the porch later that night, watching the sun dip below the horizon line in a flash of brilliant orange.
A cool glass of water chills his hand- he'd forgotten, no room for beer in the budget- and a frozen towel is laying around his neck. In other words, beautiful scenery, beautiful coldness, and beautiful...borderline poverty.
He sighs and takes a swig of the water. The sky slowly darkens, and deep purple creeps after the last glow of daylight. Stars twinkle into sight. There's no moon tonight to obscure their visibility. The clouds have been building up since the afternoon, though, and Yunho thinks he should probably move his pepper and tomato plants out so they can get a drink too. At the very least, he won't fail his special babies- even if he's sure his mother's finicky plumeria and orchids hate him.
"Don't worry, guys...I can handle this," he says, smiling up at the stars. 'I miss you,' he thinks, taking a deep breath of ocean air.
One star catches his eye. It's bright, and it's falling- at first slow, then it begins streaking faster towards the horizon. Yunho's lips quirk, and he finds himself making a wish- let me keep this house, that's all. It's...important.
Then the star screams by just overhead and he thinks 'maybe that was not a star'. Unless stars are typically candy apple red like a prized classic car.
He stands and starts when there's a huge crashing noise in the trees behind his house, where the star was headed. At that moment, the clouds decide that it's definitely time to unleash a downpour. Yunho hesitates, before grabbing his flip flops and running out into the rain.
Changmin pulls himself out of the driver's seat.
He's fine, but the ship probably needs a little work. He picks his way towards the hatch, and pokes his head out. It's soaked after two seconds. The planet is apparently a wet one.
He shimmies out of the hatch and surveys the area, letting the water drench him until it streams down his body. The court-issued containment suit sticks even closer to his skin. His lip curls. New clothes would be nice, maybe something a little less 'intergalactic fugitive' and a little more 'debonair universal terror'. The area around the ship is all green, green, green, dyed neon red in flashes by his ship's fading engine lights. The sky here is deep violet, and he can see familiar star patterns above.
Changmin slip-slides down the side of the ship, landing in wet dirt. He makes his way through the thick foliage, noting waxy leaves and bright flowers that brush his cheeks. His enhanced vision comes in handy- it's getting very dark under the cover of the trees. His feet hit solid ground- a wide path.
All directions seem to lead nowhere, empty and dark. Changmin frowns, scanning the horizon for signs of civilization to wipe out. Because to be honest, his blood is thrumming with 'kill kill kill' since the ship chase and he's ready to cause mayhem and chaos, get some blood on his hands and blood on his teeth and he's gotta KILL SOMETHING KILL TONIGHT KILL SHIT-
The only thing he registers through the haze of red is bright light and a loud bellow like a dying creature.
Yunho is approaching the highway when he hears the bone-rattling horn of a truck and the squealing of tires.
He picks up the pace, sandals slapping in the mud until he sees the truck. The front door of the cab is hanging open, and two figures are hunched on the ground. The rain drowns their voices out until Yunho comes close, and he's glad he didn't have any food to eat for dinner.
An arm sticks out from under the truck, pale and unmoving in the mud.
The driver is mumbling to his friend, voice on the edge of hysteria. "I didn't...didn't even see him...the wheels..."
Yunho apologizes and shoves him out of the way. He grabs the arm and pulls, and he thanks his lucky stars the body is attached and slides out with it.
He kneels down and finds himself staring, because he's just pulled out some...some sort of gorgeous movie star kind of person, and then they're opening their eyes and blinking at him, before they grab his shoulders and try to headbutt him.
Or ...or hug him. They're hugging him. He hugs back, because he's suddenly so relieved this person is alive.
The driver and his friend are still gibbering behind him, so he twists and shoots them a huge grin. "He's alive!"
The driver's friend just holds out a shaking arm, pointing behind Yunho.
"W-wheels," he says, eyes wide.
Yunho frowns. "What?"
The person in his arms shifts, tightening their grip on his back.
"Look what he did to the wheels."
Yunho looks back at the tires, and sees. The front two sets, undercarriage and axel and all, are completely wrecked.
After some introductions, Changmin is taken to Jung Yunho's home.
He eyes the pastel shack as they approach it with squelching footsteps. Jung is filling the air with so many words it makes Changmin's head hurt, but in a good way. He's familiar with the basics, at least, thanks to his creator, and he can catalogue the language as he listens. By the time they track mud all over the porch, Changmin has determined the classification and a rough formula for the grammar. He thinks maybe he can manage rudimentary responses. He is grateful his genetics are calibrated for intelligence.
Jung cooks him triangles on the stove and gives it to him. He eats them whole, and finds Jung staring at him.
"Um...," Jung's eyes dart towards the cold storage. "Should I make you another sandwich? It's no problem."
Changmin shakes his head. He tries to imagine how to best ask for cleaning. Apparently it's not a simple hand gesture like running a hand down the length of his body, because Jung turns bright red in the face.
"What? I ...uh." Jung clears his throat.
Changmin tries again, gesturing this time instead to his clothes and making a circular gesture over his stomach. He licks his lips.
"Wet," he tries, using Jung's words from earlier.
Jung squints, before brightening. He hits his hands together.
"Oh! You want...you want a shower?"
Changmin shakes his head. "No. I have triangle." He thinks again, remembering Jung's words. "Sandwich."
They look at each other for a moment. Jung's frowning at him, mouth slightly ajar. His finger points weakly at the cold storage.
"Sandwich?" Jung says again.
Changmin sighs, gesturing to his body. "I...wet...you, I, wet, not wet, wet not wet. You. I. Wet not wet. No sandwich. OK?" He makes the 'OK' sign that Jung used.
Jung doesn't look like he's okay with it, but he grabs Changmin's hand. Changmin tenses, but he's already established Jung as partial to physical contact, considering he accepted a peaceful greeting cling, so he's not too worried. It would have been easier for Jung to kill him when he was down, if he was going to.
Jung pulls him upstairs, and hands him a fluffy cloth.
"The shower is in there," Jung says, pointing at a door.
"Shower," Changmin says. "You? Shower?"
Jung is turning red again, and he's laughing. "Um, no, I'll go after you."
Changmin eyes him, not sure what the point of separate cleaning is, but steps inside anyways. It's a small tiled room with dials and appliances. There's more than enough room for the both of them. He begins to peel his containment suit off, checking out the cleaning apparatus, when Jung makes a weird noise behind him.
"I'll get you some spare clothes," Jung says in a rush, before running down the hall.
Changmin ignores him and inspects the dials on the wall. There's a smaller bowl-shaped form on the other side of the room, but he suspects it's for personal waste and not cleaning. He tosses the containment suit off and rounds on the main dial. When he pulls it, water streams out of a hose attachment and begins to drench him. He frowns through the stream. He knows it's necessary, but he hates getting wet. He stands there until Jung almost trips and drops everything when he comes back.
"Sorry! I didn't know you started, I'm so sorry," Jung babbles, trying to avert his eyes.
Changmin just turns back to the assorted cleaning solutions. "OK. No-" he thinks about how to say 'he doesn't care', running through his conversations with Jung for materials. "No...problem. No problem. You, I, wet. OK."
Jung just dumps a pile of things on the counter and leaves.
So Changmin's a little weird, Yunho thinks. It's fine. He likes weird stuff. Like Elvis records and kitsch. Changmin's not really kitsch, but he's interesting, with his weird accent and intense gaze. Yunho wonders where he's from.
Changmin emerges from the bathroom in sweats, and Yunho registers golden skin that's just a shade too luminescent, limbs that are a little too long when they fold up on the couch, and little fangs that show when Changmin yawns. He amends his thoughts. Changmin's beyond simply weird. Yunho clears his throat. Delicacy is necessary here.
"You're not a human, are you?"
Changmin's eyes flick up to Yunho, and his fingers twitch towards nothing at his hip. Yunho throws his hands up in a hopefully non-threatening gesture.
"No biggie. Just a hunch. You uh...you can stay here, until...y'know, whenever."
Changmin's hand falls back to the couch, but his eyes stay glued to Yunho.
"Stay?" Changmin says, his head drifting into a tilt.
Yunho nods. "Whatever, it's not like...I don't have the room."
It's oddly elegant, the way Changmin's long limbs fold into one another as he nods with a little smile.
"So um. You're not human, right?" Yunho says, leaning an arm across the back of the couch.
Changmin shakes his head. "M'not you."
"Oh." Yunho frowns. "So...you're not. Are you like...a vampire? A werewolf?"
Changmin just looks at him, squinting.
"It's like a ...dog? A dog person? They turn into monsters on the full moon..."
He must say something right, because Changmin's eyes light up. "Moon."
"Yes. The moon. Do you feel uh...different, around the full moon?"
"Around the moon. Different. Different way."
"Werewolf, then, I'd reckon."
"Around the moon. Left. Left. Right." His words dissolve into growling, except it's little short bursts of staccato rumbles, combined with a strange stretch of his tongue every so often. It's really freaky.
"Ok. So my werewolf friend. As long as you don't kill any-"
Changmin bursts off the couch in a flurry of movement.
"Kill. Kill. Kill." His body is tense and he looks down at Yunho like they just climbed a mountain together, and he leans down. "Kill, kill, kill," he murmurs, and then he's sitting in Yunho's lap and...and... licking Yunho's face.
"Jesus fuck," Yunho says, unsure of what to do and slightly terrified.
Changmin's all up on his neck now, lapping at his jaw, and it's oddly sensual but Yunho feels like he shouldn't allow this to continue.
"Okay, okay, stop, I don't know what- stop whispering 'kill' that is really not okay."
Changmin is still nuzzling into Yunho's hair and Yunho pushes him back. He grabs his face.
"You can't say that. Anywhere. Changmin?"
Changmin finally calms down, looking straight at Yunho.
"If you're going to stay here, you can't go around saying that. No. No 'kill', okay?"
Changmin's face sort of crumples, and he raises his eyebrow. "No kill?"
"No."
Changmin settles back down into Yunho's lap, and Yunho's face feels slightly warm.
"No problem," Changmin says, his fingers plucking at Yunho's knees below him.
Yunho takes a deep breath. "No problem," he agrees.
Changmin knows there's a laser beam focused on him.
He's in Yunho's extra nest, trying not to destroy the blankets he's been given. They smell strongly of weakness and the rain he was caught in earlier, and they make his face hurt. The laser beam disappears after several minutes. He hears arguing from outside, where the laser beam retracted to.
"You can't kill him!" a voice hisses, muffled by Yunho's windows.
"Why not? We have to." Another voice, much calmer. Familiar. Dr. Song.
"We were ordered to bring him back alive for punishment!"
"Or dead, if I decide it's necessary. I know my creation. It's necessary. This saves time."
"No. We capture him. If that doesn't work..."
"Then we can destroy him?"
"Then we can destroy him."
The voices are quiet after that, and Changmin curls into the smelly blankets. He'd like to see them try.
The next morning, Changmin steals a vehicle.
He figures out the controls in short order and pulls it up to Yunho, who is doing something weird to the plants in front of his house.
"Hungry?" Changmin asks.
Yunho straightens up and stares at him.
Changmin tries again. "Triangles. Let's go get triangles."
Yunho comes around to his side without a word, then gently pulls him from the seat. He holds Changmin's arms and looks into his eyes.
"Changmin, go back and apologize to Mr. Kalo for stealing his truck," he says slowly.
Changmin frowns. "...we driving?"
Yunho sighs.
Together, they drive the truck back to the little house down the road. Yunho screams apologies to a deaf old man sitting on the porch. He demonstrates the exchange of currency for goods at a stand, handing a cone filled with ice to Changmin. Changmin's lip curls at the cold feeling against his palm, but he follows Yunho to a picnic table nearby. He lets his ice turn into colorful sludge, choosing instead to watch Yunho devour half of his in a few bites. Yunho has great teeth. Changmin feels mild attraction towards his host.
"Your speech has gotten much clearer," Yunho says.
"I'm very smart," Changmin says.
Yunho laughs. A warm breeze ruffles their hair, thick with the sweet smell from Yunho's blankets. Changmin sniffs it, noticing it doesn't smell quite as unpleasant now.
"Probably jasmine."
"Jasmine," Changmin repeats. "What?"
"The smell. The jasmine flowers are blooming. It's my favorite flower." Yunho leans back against the table, paper cone empty in his hand. "I like seeing them after sundown."
Yunho looks soft for a moment, staring out to nothing in particular. Changmin sips at his cone. Yunho glances back up at him, then pats his leg. Kill kill, Changmin thinks, then bites his cheek. No.
"You coming with me tonight? I work," Yunho says.
His hand stays on Changmin's leg, burning through his borrowed shorts. Changmin nods.
Yunho likes his job, even though the pay is low. It's one part waiting tables, one part entertaining, and one part spitting fire near dazzled tourists. He's not quite got the last part down 100%, and sometimes he gets a little blackened around the hairline, but his customers love it. More importantly, they love his dancing.
He spits a little extra fuel out and glances over to Changmin's table, hidden in a dark corner. Changmin's holding a sandwich up to his lips, but he looks spellbound by the fire tricks. Yunho grins and heads over.
"You like?"
Changmin nods. "Like. A lot."
Then he sorta mouths at the sandwich before it disappears in a flash of teeth, and Yunho has to wrangle a very misplaced, very confused feeling to its death inside of him.
The boss calls his name, and Yunho pushes his sooty hair back. He only leaves for like, five seconds- he's sure of it.
But somehow there's screaming and the sound of tables being thrown, and he and the boss turn to stare at the utter chaos in front of them. Changmin is perched on the fence, teeth bared and looking like he's about to lunge at a pair of screaming tourists clutching a sandwich.
"What on Earth is going on here?!" the boss bellows.
Yunho's heart pounds. The tourists whirl around to look at the crowd- and wow one of the women is wearing a really ugly and obvious wig.
"No problems here! Kid is just uh...hungry! Come down from there, kiddo, here's a nice sandwich you can chew up! You can come home with us, we missed you so!"
There's something wrong about their speech, it's harsh and clipped in weird places and Yunho finally realizes they speak like Changmin.
"Get away from him," he says, anger simmering under his skin.
His nails dig into his palms, and he feels an uncomfortable crackle of tension along his shoulders. The woman in the wig looks at the other woman, who is wearing big sunglasses despite the darkness.
Sunglasses finally speaks up. Her accent is incredibly thick.
"Ah, you see, this is-"
"No," Changmin hisses. Hisses, as in there's definitely some throat action involved.
He looks up at Yunho, eyes dark and shining. Some customers are leaving, huddled over and glancing back with wary faces.
"Yunho, get your friend out of here now," his boss says. "I can't believe you'd bring trouble here." His voice is tight, and he makes his way to the tourists.
Yunho leaves, knowing he won't be coming back. Changmin follows him in the shadows, saying nothing.
Changmin thinks that his time with Yunho might be over, but Yunho stops at a little hut and buys something. He pushes a paper cup into Changmin's hands, already sipping from his own.
"It's?" Changmin asks, tilting his hand and preparing to try it the same way Yunho is.
"Macchiato. Espresso with milk. A specialty of this place. It's good."
Changmin takes one gulp and grimaces at the bitter tang, hidden under smooth creamy sweetness. After the initial shock, it is good. He drinks half of it.
Yunho is walking back to the road, so he follows. They pass through dark groves of trees, making their way over dirt paths covered in dry tree fronds. The fronds catch moonlight in a strange way, creating a silvery web Changmin steps along carefully. The breeze from earlier is a little stronger, a little cooler now. It's more fragrant, too, sweet and cloying with a hint of salt and rain.
"Jasmine," Changmin murmurs.
Yunho hums in agreement, passing behind a bush with big red flowers just starting to close up with the sun's absence. Then Changmin sees it. In the distance is Yunho's little house. But in front of him is a huge wall of deep dark green, practically glowing with tiny, white flowers. Tendrils reach out in all directions, looking for the best way to grow. The smell is nearly overwhelming now. Changmin's more struck by how much the little flowers on the dark leaves look like space up above, the spacescape of this planet with its stars and its deep sky.
He leaves the little sky and keeps after Yunho. It's fairly obvious Yunho is angry with him. He doesn't wait for Changmin to catch up once he reaches the house, and he's not saying much. His half full cup lands in the bin with a thud. Changmin's not sure what else to do, so he trails after him, avoiding the random items being tossed to the floor. Yunho's done a good job of removing most of his clothing, and Changmin's starting to follow suit when Yunho turns and huffs out a laugh.
"Shit," Yunho says, before flopping down on the bed.
Changmin tosses away his shirt, and lingers in the doorway. Creeping uncertainty slows his thoughts. He wants to destroy his creator, the two that made things like this. Kill. The red haze boils under his skin.
But for now, he needs to fix things with Yunho. Yunho doesn't move for a moment, then jolts up to look at Changmin.
"You okay?"
Changmin nods, and approaches Yunho carefully. He stands by his bedside, anticipatory. He thinks Yunho might dismiss him. Instead, Yunho pats the space next to him on the bed. Changmin sits where Yunho indicated.
"Mad?" he asks, looking down at where Yunho's arm covers his face.
"No. Yes. A little," Yunho says. His fingers make a pinching gesture. Changmin leans down a little.
"I don't know...," he admits. How to fix this, he knows the words in many languages, but not this one.
Yunho doesn't offer any words to help him communicate it, so he settles for what he's heard.
"Sorry."
Yunho just shakes his head. "Saw it coming."
Changmin slowly lies back, until he would be looking right into Yunho's eyes. He watches him, and neither of them say anything. Long after Yunho dozes off, Changmin rolls to look over the edge of the bed.
There's a book down there, halfway in the shadow, and he hooks it with his fingers. He flips through the pages without moving from the bed. It's a story about a boy and a girl and their guardians, and it tells him that they are called a 'family'.
One page falls open easier than the others. Between the pages, there is a small picture- a boy and a girl and their guardians. It doesn't take long to realize the boy is Yunho- smaller, but with the same smile.
On the page below, there's one sentence. Changmin takes a moment to analyze the letters, before running a finger over the words.
"Family means nobody gets left behind," he says, hardly more than a whisper.
His stomach growls, and he makes his way out of the dark bedroom after replacing the photo. Yunho's fridge is barren except for some jars of liquid, so he takes one and fishes the little vegetables out of it. He chews on them and stares through the wall at the galaxy bush, off in the distance.
"Family," he says, enjoying the taste of the word.
Yunho wakes up feeling much, much, much better.
He squeezes his arms around whatever is warm and stretches, burying his face against soft skin and softer hair. Then he wakes up. He shoves away from the whatever, and sees the strange blank face of Changmin, eyes dark and observant.
"Someone is here," Changmin says, and Yunho squints.
"What?"
A loud knocking has him stumbling out of bed. Changmin's lips are drawn into a funny little pout, and Yunho won't admit he laughs a little at the expression. Out on the porch, Mr. Oca's expression is considerably less endearing and definitely not as amused.
"Jung. Heard a story at Noni's this morning-" he freezes as a weight settles on Yunho's shoulder.
Changmin yawns next to his ear. "Hello," he says.
Yunho tries not to implode. Job. Roommate. Eviction. Contract. If this moment was happening when he was any more awake, he'd probably be having a minor panic attack. As it is, he just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Mr. Oca! This is my...my, uh," roommate, for the extra income, I know this is absolutely not a sublet but- "Fiance!" fuck WHAT
Changmin thankfully appears to be ignorant about that word, and just mumbles something like 'fambly' against his shoulder. Mr. Oca...does nothing, just scowls.
"Charmed," he says, before crossing his arms. "You lost your job."
Yunho's heart drops to slump somewhere around his bellybutton.
"I-" he starts, but Mr. Oca holds up a hand.
"Get a job. By the end of the week. Or you're out. I'm done with it Jung, I really can't keep this up."
There's a silence, one where neither of them can meet each others' eyes, and Yunho swallows. "Yeah. Got it."
He shuts the door and immediately slides down to the floor.
"I'm dead," he groans.
Changmin replies with a confused "no...?", before Yunho hops back up and drags him into the kitchen.
"You're right. No, I'm not. We can still turn this around," he mutters, grabbing a handful of newspapers from the mountain of clutter on the counter.
Changmin's conveniently right on his heels, as per usual, and he accepts them without comment.
"Check the page called 'help wanted'- circle anything that asks for someone young and strong. I'm gonna call a few of my friends, see if they've got anything." Changmin stands there before fixing a really unsettling gaze on the newspapers.
"We can still turn this around," he repeats.
"That's what I said!" Yunho calls out cheerfully before going to fetch his phone.
Sometimes his fake fiance creeps him out.
Yunho bursts through the kitchen door after his circuit of potential employers. It's been a worthwhile pursuit- he's one bag of food richer than when he left, courtesy of Ms. JoJo, and one conversation away from a job- a job performing. Light is shining upon him and he is gonna photosynthesize the hell out of it, nevermind that there's a 90% chance of rain today.
Changmin is still hunched over the kitchen table. Yunho doesn't miss the way his eyes flick to the bag, or the gurgle from his stomach.
"Food," he announces. "Any luck?"
"I did the circles," Changmin says. His tone is hesitant, and yes he did indeed do the circles holy shit.
The paper is covered in little red circles, each perfectly round. There's something written along the top that he can't make out from the door.
"Uh, thanks, good." Yunho sets the bag down.
"You and I," he says, leaning in conspiratorially. Those big eyes settle on him, curious. "You and I are gonna eat this mac n' cheese. Then we're gonna go to the theatre and I'm gonna get a job. And maybe you'll get a job too."
Changmin glances down and up and down again, then over to the bag.
"Macancheese," he says.
"Yup." Yunho snags the bag with a finger and tugs it closer. "Never had?" he asks.
Changmin shakes his head.
"Well you're crazy about grilled cheese, so you'll probably like this."
Getting a spoonful into Changmin's mouth is oddly time-consuming, Changmin's being timid and seems wary of the color. Until he tastes it. Then Yunho kind of wishes he had enjoyed picky Changmin a little more.
They clean house, eating every last little macaroni. Yunho goes to collect the bag when Changmin gets all up in his space.
"Macancheese," he says, and Yunho is terrified that Changmin's snapped and is going to eat his face off. "Your face," Changmin adds helpfully.
"Yeah?" Yunho rasps.
Changmin touches his own mouth, then his eyes shift up to Yunho's.
"Can I have it?" Changmin says, and......oh.
Maybe Changmin's not so great at verbal communication but the mischievous glimmer in his eyes is goddamn universal. There's the tiniest pressure to his mouth, before Changmin leans back, licking his lips.
"Five minutes," Yunho says, then staggers to his feet and slam dunks the plastic bag in the trashcan.
He leaves Changmin preening in the kitchen.
Changmin is chalking it up to unclear instructions and his own poor judgement, but defining the cause isn't helping the effect because he's going to fucking lose it. One second he was listening to the pleasant twangs of some instrument while Yunho laughs with some worker at the theatre, the next second his vocal organs are making some noise he's never made before and everyone's gaping and crowding him.
There's flashes and weird devices being shoved in his face and he can't keep making the good, harmonious noise because he's getting overwhelmed and he can't remember how to say go away and his killing instinct is screaming and he wants to scream too and- and-...he does.
He does scream.
There's a huge blast of something that pours out of his very being and then everyone else is screaming too. Screaming and running. It doesn't feel as good as he thought it would.
It's no time at all before he's the one running, after Yunho who is not speaking to him, not listening to him, not looking at him. Now the only words he's trying to remember are I'm sorry- Yunho turns on his heel.
Changmin stops short at the sight of his face.
"I need you," Yunho grits out, "to leave. I want you to go away."
He steps towards Changmin, and Changmin mirrors it with a step away, suddenly uncertain.
"You have just-" Yunho takes a deep breath, and his face goes placid. The anger is still hot in his eyes when he opens them again, taking Changmin in from a far away place.
"I am going to take care of this mess, then I am going to take care of the house, the final ownership shit. I don't care what you do, but you're not coming with me." His voice is calm and very quiet, but it's full of knives and sharp edges.
"I wish I never met you."
Changmin watches him go down the dirt road. His mind is quiet for once, no instinctual urge to destroy anything. His legs yearn loudly to follow Yunho, so much that his muscles hurt with the tension. The breeze picks up, ruffling his hair and filling his senses with salt and jasmine.
Yunho left him behind.
He doesn't notice the loop around his neck and shoulders until it's too late.
Yunho runs down the road, the past twenty minutes racing through his head on fast-forward.
He's gotta find Changmin.
Somehow, sending twenty members of the theater troupe flying was a good thing- The director literally bouncing out of the pile of collapsed chairs, babbling something about 'the talent we need-'.
Yunho had backed away, nodding as the director pleaded him to bring his 'stage partner' back, then turning and breaking into a run. He has a job, he can save the house, but Changmin's apparently disappeared into thin air, because he's not by the theater or the road or the walk-in. Yunho's remembering some of the things he's said and it's twisting his insides around.
The wind starts to pick up, and dark clouds roll closer over the rough seas. Yunho calls out Changmin's name, avoiding a flying paper cup. He pokes around the house, mentally pleading that he'll find Changmin on the porch or at the kitchen table eating all his food- but he won't because Changmin always does what Yunho says.
Don't say 'kill', take a shower, circle some words, go away.
The newspaper is still in the kitchen, and Yunho pauses- notices the little lines of words across the top just say 'family' over and over again. The first few are messy and badly formed, but by the last line all the letters are even and sure.
Yunho growls in frustration. Where would Changmin go?
He looks towards the forest with a terrible sensation dawning on him. He takes off into a sprint, legs pumping to launch him around the trees and bushes.
Changmin hates rain.
Of course, it starts to rain when his head is being pushed into the dirt and Dr. Song is standing over him triumphantly. His other captor, a man, is babbling something about a call, but Dr. Song is taking her time.
"Changmin, honestly. Do you know how much time and money I spent finding you? Well, no, of course it's not my money, but still."
"Dr. Song, we should really call the Imperess now-" The man is saying, high and nervous.
"No, I don't think I will." Dr. Song says. "He's mine."
The man splutters. "Are you- are you suggesting treason!?"
Dr. Song huffs a laugh. "Come on, Cho, it's not like it's surprising. Let me out of prison to capture my own creation, then what? I go right back in?"
She pats Changmin's head with a cold hand.
"Now that I have this," a prod of the noose, "again, I can do whatever I want. Right, Choikang Changmin, #626? Now we can be free."
Changmin growls. Dr. Song recoils for a moment.
"626. I understand avoiding capture by the Imperess, it's in your nature, but...what is with this...this...belligerence? We can go, you can be free to wreck and wreak chaos and...and, oh, killing. We can kill!"
Changmin writhes and snarls at the word. Yunho said it was bad, and Yunho's honestly the only opinion he cares about.
"No, no killing!" he says, voice rasping.
"D-Dr. S-S-Song," Cho stammers out, finally.
Changmin had forgotten about him. There's a dead silence after the words, and Changmin looks over with some effort.
The man has a blaster aimed at Dr. Song, but the laser sight is shaking violently and his face is sickly white. He's terrified.
Changmin rolls his eyes.
He pushes off the ground hard enough to rear up and send a roundhouse kick towards Dr. Song, spinning in the noose.
Dr. Song immediately twists the noose and slams him into a tree. Cho screams and shoots, but it just fries a random tree branch. Changmin gets pulled into a bush, and Dr. Song looms over him, her face manic.
"Maybe I was wrong about you being the perfect killing machine, if you can't even get out of this easy little loop."
Then she's gone with a loud thud. Changmin struggles to his feet, and Yunho's there, grabbing his hands and helping him up.
"Are you okay, what the hell are these guys doing-"
Changmin just flies at him and wraps his arms around his neck.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-"
Yunho's arms are solid around him, and he presses his face to Changmin's neck.
"No, it's- it's not your-"
There's a sudden absence of rain and a lot of light, and they both look up. A massive black void hovers above the trees, broken up by neon lights and bars.
"What on earth-" Yunho says, face slack.
Changmin looks over at Cho. There's a communication device in his hand. His eyes are wide, and he trembles.
"S-sorry," he squeaks.
There's a split second where Changmin tries to decide whether the ship he rode in on might still be functional. A split second where he meets Yunho's eyes. Then his fingers are wrapped around his wrist and they're running, wet leaves and fronds slapping their faces as they tear through the trees. All he can think is that he's not leaving Yunho behind, but he can't possibly take Yunho with him.
He stops short and Yunho slams into him. It sends them sliding into a muddy trench. They lay there for a moment, stunned.
Yunho picks himself up. "Changmin, what the- why did you stop?"
Changmin grabs his face, ignoring the mud that smears across his cheek.
"You...you can't-" he murmurs. He's forgotten how to talk, he can't remember what he wants to say.
Yunho's face gets very dark, and he mirrors Changmin's grip, holding tight to Changmin's jaw.
"You're not leaving me behind," he says.
"Not-"
Yunho smashes his lips into Changmin, and it almost hurts except that it's Yunho, it's his family- the Imperial Ship is descending behind Yunho's head, and Changmin narrows his eyes and gasps against Yunho's mouth.
"I want you to be safe," he says in his own words, his own sounds, and Yunho's eyebrows furrow with confusion.
He runs his thumb across Yunho's muddy cheek and flips them over with a great shove.
"Changmin no, I want-"
Yunho's face is all he sees as he feels the Imperial ship's hold on him, and he never wants to leave Yunho behind but this time it's necessary- he takes some kind of ugly comfort in the fact that Yunho's screaming for him.
Yunho lays in the trench for a long time.
It feels like a long time, at least, since the mothership disappeared somewhere to his right, and he struggles to scramble up through his rising panic.
"Changmin! Changmin!" He bounds through the trees to the open air, and sees the mothership looming in the distance, not gaining altitude yet. Yunho grasps his hair and tugs. It's moving further and further, slow but definite, and he can't do anything. His heart is ripping into a chasm because shit Changmin is up there, and- and- there's an explosion on the left side.
Yunho watches, mouth hanging open, as more explosions balloon around the ship, burning holes into his vision. He already running as the ship groans and begins falling, headed straight for the beach.
All self-preservation is lost as it screams 50 feet above his head, and it's only by sheer chance he finds Changmin's lanky figure yanking itself from a hatch and straightening up against the dark purple clouds, wrongside up and defying all rules of gravity. His eyes are neon pinpricks leaving trails of light as the ship soars by, and Yunho stops, seeing what Changmin is in this moment, a terror.
Then those eyes turns towards him and Changmin smiles and waves. Yunho waves back hesitantly.
Changmin launches himself into the air, flipping through the airstream. The ship crushes into the surf as Changmin lands neatly in front of Yunho, eyes still glowing and antennae popping out from his hair.
Yunho doesn't care, just pulls him in to kiss him around sharp teeth and only lets him stop to murmur 'I love you, I love you, you're my family."
Yunho's had a rough week.
There's been a lot of job troubles, in addition to all the aliens. He got through a tense meeting with the grand Imperess of something or other, signed on to the court as (well-paid) Manager of Exile for his new fiance and his keepers, and settled his rental security with Mr. Oca, who, in addition to being his landlord, is ex-M.I.B. and was incredibly unhappy with the poor treatment offered to the grand Imperess of something or other.
And he has to go to his theater job in an hour.
His fiance/ward is sitting across from him, circling things on the newspaper. Changmin's made some kind of yellow rectangle-shaped breakfast thing, and he grabs another one. There's loud thumping upstairs, and Yunho figures Dr. Song and Cho have woken up and started fighting over the bathroom. There's a frown on Changmin's face, and he leans further into the newspaper.
"Wanna go to work?" Yunho offers sympathetically.
Changmin's eyes flick up to his over the paper, narrowing as he sighs.
They pack up some rectangles and walk to work together. They're only twenty minutes late so far thanks to Changmin's jasmine fetish. He'll just record it as 'personal hobbies' when he reports in.
Changmin's got jasmine petals in his hair and he's looking with imploring eyes over to the beach, and Yunho laughs. Changmin will do anything Yunho says, but Yunho will do anything Changmin asks.
That evening he'll probably come home to his landlord/boss sitting on his porch, more aliens, a good running time, whatever, but all he'll be concerned with is a beer and shower, and a star that fell in his backyard.
I'm aliiiive! \o/ and...late for the thing I promised I'd submit on time ugh SORRY teyahtimeay you are magnificent for helping to set all this up though.
this was difficult to write for some reason, but it's DONE. plus, I'll be back to normal internet access in one month, so that's exciting! I'll also have access to triangles again. Oh my.