[drabble] only enemies speak the truth, jaejoong/changmin
only enemies speak the truth
rating: pg-13 for supernatural elements and a dirty word.
pairing: jaejoong/changmin
summary: au. even through venomous meetings and the mask of hate, they're each other's favourite monster.
word count: 808
comments: this originally came from a three-sentence fic prompt i got from a kind soul on tumblr whom i refer to in my mind as the storms anon. we both liked it so much that i continued it and got this little weird thing. so thank you, storms anon, and darkcupcakes for introducing me to the world of the winchester brothers. really, the whole inspiration for this aside from the prompt was supernatural.
The sky is dark as ink, dark and starless-when Jaejoong looks up and sees that the moon is barely enough to make the alley a little brighter, he knows that Changmin is close, even though he can’t sense it just yet. He reaches for his gun in suspicion, pulling it out of his coat slowly because he knows that even if he was fast, it would be if no use; at this point it’s only for safety, because an invisible force throws him against the wall so hard he sees spots and his knuckles scrape on the brick when his hands are pulled up. He blinks and suddenly Changmin is there in front of him, lips just barely grazing the skin of his neck (because they both know it would kill him if he were to touch Jaejoong) and a smirk evident in his voice as he whispers the words “Hello, Jaejoong” darkly into his ear.
“Don’t touch me,” he growls, turning his head away from him even though that, too, is of no use. He gets pulled back to face him, and the smirk is bigger, wider, more feral. Maybe that wasn’t his smartest comment of the week-
“You know I can’t touch you.”
Of course he can’t. Jaejoong’s whole existence revolves around hunting people-no, demons, monsters, anything but people-like Changmin. He was created to be invincible, to resist them, and so that his invincibility could kill two birds with one stone by keeping him alive and making demons burn down to ashes from a simple touch. His DNA is half human cells, half holy water, salt, gasoline and fire.
But Changmin is stronger than that.
“And I know that you damn well wish I could. Don’t you?” he leers, just as Jaejoong finds himself being pulled off the wall roughly and thrown down on the wet, cold concrete. It gets a grunt out of him, but not the yelp Changmin’s sadistic ear hopes to draw out.
“You disgust me.”
Changmin laughs, and if there’s something Jaejoong is wishing for, it’s that he would be able to hear it the way a human’s would sound-he can picture it, the world where they’re both normal people who can love each other instead of being at war like this. A bright, pristine world where Changmin is shy and has a beautiful, beautiful laugh kept away somewhere inside him and just waiting to be beckoned out.
“Do you really think I could believe that? Come on, honey. Stop lying to me.” Changmin’s footsteps resonate in the small space between two buildings as he circles Jaejoong’s form, pinned down to the ground, and he finally crouches down in front of him. Careful not to touch his skin, his fingers pry the gun out of his hands-in a matter of seconds, the cold barrel is trailing down the curve of his cheek. Probably how Changmin would be touching him if he could. “I can see, smell, hear, and sense it. The way your pupils dilate when I come closer. The way your heart pumps that fake blood of yours harder, faster, so you don’t lose your breath. The way your skin shivers when I’m this close, almost touching you. You’re almost dripping with-pheromones, is it? Oh, I love biology.”
“Just because you could dissect stuff and people would congratulate you instead of hunting you down,” Jaejoong answers, moving his face away from him again, because he knows he’s right. So damn right. All he gets in reply is that horrible laugh, and the gun sliding lower, pressing down his torso until it reaches the waistband of his pants.
“I’d love to dissect you one day. But then who would I play with?”
The barrel slides lower, following the line of his half-hard cock through his pants, and in the darkness of the night, Jaejoong catches a glance of Changmin’s smirk. The pressure holding his arms down lessens and he reaches out for the closest patch of skin he can find, and the smell of sulphur and burnt skin fills his nostrils, Changmin growling out in pain as he cowers back and drops the gun. The small touch isn’t enough to kill him, but it leaves a patch of his forearm glowing like embers.
“Silly humans,” he says, voice laced with disgust, and laughs again as he leaves. He may be one of the most powerful, most wicked demons Jaejoong has ever met, but in a way, he’s just a kid. He thinks that maybe his image of him as a human, nerdy and with a simple kind of innocence, isn’t so far from what Changmin really is.
When he looks back up at the sky, the stars are back and the moon is bright. It means Changmin is far, now, but Jaejoong knows he’ll be back.
rating: pg-13 for supernatural elements and a dirty word.
pairing: jaejoong/changmin
summary: au. even through venomous meetings and the mask of hate, they're each other's favourite monster.
word count: 808
comments: this originally came from a three-sentence fic prompt i got from a kind soul on tumblr whom i refer to in my mind as the storms anon. we both liked it so much that i continued it and got this little weird thing. so thank you, storms anon, and darkcupcakes for introducing me to the world of the winchester brothers. really, the whole inspiration for this aside from the prompt was supernatural.
The sky is dark as ink, dark and starless-when Jaejoong looks up and sees that the moon is barely enough to make the alley a little brighter, he knows that Changmin is close, even though he can’t sense it just yet. He reaches for his gun in suspicion, pulling it out of his coat slowly because he knows that even if he was fast, it would be if no use; at this point it’s only for safety, because an invisible force throws him against the wall so hard he sees spots and his knuckles scrape on the brick when his hands are pulled up. He blinks and suddenly Changmin is there in front of him, lips just barely grazing the skin of his neck (because they both know it would kill him if he were to touch Jaejoong) and a smirk evident in his voice as he whispers the words “Hello, Jaejoong” darkly into his ear.
“Don’t touch me,” he growls, turning his head away from him even though that, too, is of no use. He gets pulled back to face him, and the smirk is bigger, wider, more feral. Maybe that wasn’t his smartest comment of the week-
“You know I can’t touch you.”
Of course he can’t. Jaejoong’s whole existence revolves around hunting people-no, demons, monsters, anything but people-like Changmin. He was created to be invincible, to resist them, and so that his invincibility could kill two birds with one stone by keeping him alive and making demons burn down to ashes from a simple touch. His DNA is half human cells, half holy water, salt, gasoline and fire.
But Changmin is stronger than that.
“And I know that you damn well wish I could. Don’t you?” he leers, just as Jaejoong finds himself being pulled off the wall roughly and thrown down on the wet, cold concrete. It gets a grunt out of him, but not the yelp Changmin’s sadistic ear hopes to draw out.
“You disgust me.”
Changmin laughs, and if there’s something Jaejoong is wishing for, it’s that he would be able to hear it the way a human’s would sound-he can picture it, the world where they’re both normal people who can love each other instead of being at war like this. A bright, pristine world where Changmin is shy and has a beautiful, beautiful laugh kept away somewhere inside him and just waiting to be beckoned out.
“Do you really think I could believe that? Come on, honey. Stop lying to me.” Changmin’s footsteps resonate in the small space between two buildings as he circles Jaejoong’s form, pinned down to the ground, and he finally crouches down in front of him. Careful not to touch his skin, his fingers pry the gun out of his hands-in a matter of seconds, the cold barrel is trailing down the curve of his cheek. Probably how Changmin would be touching him if he could. “I can see, smell, hear, and sense it. The way your pupils dilate when I come closer. The way your heart pumps that fake blood of yours harder, faster, so you don’t lose your breath. The way your skin shivers when I’m this close, almost touching you. You’re almost dripping with-pheromones, is it? Oh, I love biology.”
“Just because you could dissect stuff and people would congratulate you instead of hunting you down,” Jaejoong answers, moving his face away from him again, because he knows he’s right. So damn right. All he gets in reply is that horrible laugh, and the gun sliding lower, pressing down his torso until it reaches the waistband of his pants.
“I’d love to dissect you one day. But then who would I play with?”
The barrel slides lower, following the line of his half-hard cock through his pants, and in the darkness of the night, Jaejoong catches a glance of Changmin’s smirk. The pressure holding his arms down lessens and he reaches out for the closest patch of skin he can find, and the smell of sulphur and burnt skin fills his nostrils, Changmin growling out in pain as he cowers back and drops the gun. The small touch isn’t enough to kill him, but it leaves a patch of his forearm glowing like embers.
“Silly humans,” he says, voice laced with disgust, and laughs again as he leaves. He may be one of the most powerful, most wicked demons Jaejoong has ever met, but in a way, he’s just a kid. He thinks that maybe his image of him as a human, nerdy and with a simple kind of innocence, isn’t so far from what Changmin really is.
When he looks back up at the sky, the stars are back and the moon is bright. It means Changmin is far, now, but Jaejoong knows he’ll be back.