Fairytales - the Jester and the Wallflower
Title: Fairytales - the Jester and the Wallflower
Characters: Yesung/Donghae
Author: Linh/ElmersGlue128
Rating: PG
Length: one-shot/random!drabble
Words: 1,216
Summary: middleschool!verse. About a weirdo and an outcast, YeHae.
Peculiar oddities and his total lack of perfection that makes him always a little more than awkward, constantly stumbling and fumbling over his own two feet and nonexistent objects. His miniature, excited hands attempting to capture bugs amongst the tall bushes of grass and goopy mud but never catching anything but a stuffy, red nose.
No one ever takes Yesung seriously because he’s a total fool, his gagman tactics and self-decrepitating humor is entertaining to his mom but none of the other kids in his class. Maybe he tries too hard, Yesung’s not too sure himself but things just never work out the harder he tries. Not that he isn’t used to it, it’s just a little tiring sometimes.
Today is no different, his unfashionable clothes, bits and pieces of stylish items that together clash terribly with too many flashy accessories. He wears this outfit because the girl of his dreams once complimented him on it and he’s wearing it again hopeful she’ll say something, but he has no chance.
He’s just naïve to the cruelty of a sarcastic remark made by Snow White with her deathly pale skin and the branching blue veins along her wrists that travel to nowhere because there is no beat-beat of a heart. And he’s been dwarfed by her answering to Dopey but, oh dear, she doesn’t need to bite into the poisonous apple when venom is already running through her blood.
Even when he finally understands because the words leaving her lips are ugly and hideous but he still chuckles loudly and grins like an idiot as her horde leave him behind, clapping him on the shoulders and petting his head. He sips his drink energetically with that same foolish grin and bobbing his head just slightly off the beat of the music.
The notorious quiet boy peeks over his worn book, momentarily not hunched over with eyes glazed, disconnected and wish-washy. Almost immediately, Yesung catches the look and stares back with obvious embarrassment at his unintentional audience. He slides into a seat next to Donghae, laughing a little too theatrically to be real as he’s talking about something that has neither a beginning nor ending or true significance.
Even so, Donghae listens intently because that’s what he loves the most, the sound of the rhythmic highs and lows of narration and sound projected like moving images on a screen. Yesung doesn’t notice he’s still pretty wonderful to the person sitting beside him because he isn’t a detail person and is equally confounded by the big picture, completely oblivious to the subtle disappointment showing on the other’s face as he wanders off somewhere by himself.
When Donghae feels tired of the noise, he decides to amble just for the sake of ambling without any sort of direction. His footsteps carry him to this spot, the breeze quieting his movements to just steady breathing. He traces the brightening skies with his index finger until the outline of a hunched back comes into focus and his arm falls back down to his side. Donghae didn’t mean to follow him, it’s a total coincidence that Yesung just happens to be there.
No one notices but him - the moments in between when Yesung’s frowning and his fists are clenched, he doesn’t say a single word and his shoulders are slumped as he just sits there in the middle of nowhere and lost, perhaps in a memory or a moment that’s so unpleasant he starts to wipe at his face rough and frustrated. He hides himself away to be alone. Donghae knows so he doesn’t come out of his hiding place but instead stays still, not minding just staying a distant shadow like this.
Maybe he should leave but somehow that feels out of the question now, his feet aren’t listening anyways as they become rooted into that very spot and his presence becomes secondary to the tender warmth of an lazy afternoon sun. The clueless boy who always has stray strands of hair in his eyes and hunched over the same old book at lunch and during class and clutched closely to his chest walking home from school. The weird mute.
Really, he’s just still hurting and he doesn’t want to pretend to be okay because lying will make Pinocchio’s nose grow another inch. His father is gone even though daddy promised to always be the knight in extravagant, clunky armor to protect his little prince from the dragons, witches, and monsters from under the bed.
It’s only when he reads that his dad comes to life again within the lines of printed words that weave together into the faint caress of calloused fingers against his baby cheeks. It’s a pretend world full of magic and familiarity but once he closes the book shut, the pictures and stories slurs into indistinguishable muckiness. This is the last secret they can share together, one that might just disappear completely if he lets go for even a second.
That’s why talking isn’t allowed. A single utterance of sound would surely kill him, Donghae thinks. He doesn’t care about being the prince but the thought of a silence inside his head not taken up by a warm baritone voice reading out loud and making fantasies come alive every night is unbearable.
Then he’s left standing there numbly and taken by surprise as Yesung greets him with a smile, exaggerated as usual, and rambles on and on excessively about nothing in particular. Donghae nods politely and expects the other to leave, but he doesn’t.
Instead, Yesung curiously grabs the thick, worn book of fairytales from him and sits down right there on the ground, flipping it open to a random page towards the end. He reads in a noisy, comical voice because that’s what he always does to compensate for the ingrained insecurities. He plans to stop after a few lines.
But, for some reason, he doesn’t.
Sitting down, Donghae wraps his arms around his knees and stares off into the distance, listening to the steady, warm tone bare of pretentiousness. It’s familiar and comforting yet different because it’s vulnerable and raw with something he can’t quite place but he understands completely - the cadence of every nuance of intonation is a lullaby of sweet sounds.
His thumb lands on the last page, Yesung just stops and stares at it. For some reason, he can’t find it within himself to put on the joking expression he always does to look over to the other and say anything.
Donghae saves him, speaking first with a soft voice he can hear so clearly and he makes sure to place away into cherished memory. Can we start again at the beginning?
Nodding with a genuinely touched expression as he stares back, Yesung flips all the way back to page one and starts up again.
Once upon a time…
Donghae whispers along to every memorized word and his voice is carried away by a breeze that’s just the wind but it feels like a father’s touch.
In a magical land far, far away…
Yesung pinches Donghae’s cheek lightly. A weirdo and an outcast, together they suddenly make sense.