Fic: XY [chapter one: when boy meets girl] (DBSK, YunJae)
Title: XY [chapter one: when boy meets girl]
Category: Kpop (DBSK)
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2200
Summary: AU, high school. Boy meets girl. Girl is boy.
A frown tugs at the corners of Yunho's mouth as he checks his watch, pace quickening from hurried-walk to hurried-jog down the sloping sidewalk. His footfalls become heavier with the change in gait, carrying him along. He'd taken a wrong turn earlier, luckily not causing too much of a delay after receiving some helpful directions from a kindly old woman, but he doesn't enjoy the idea of being late on his first day.
New town, new school, and the usual concerns contained therein.
His fingers dig into the knot of his tie to loosen it while he adds another burst of speed, hair flying, and the air rushing in and out of his lungs. Better to be slightly unkempt than late. He's reaching the bottom of the hill, arm stretched out, hand cupping around the pole of a lamppost to aid his sharp turn around the corner-
Yunho's eyes go wide and he manages to utter a cry of alarm before barreling into the girl's back. They both stumble forward and he might've kicked her by accident, and gravity works, oh shit. He snags her by the wrist while his other hand scrabbles against the brick wall, trying to find purchase while his feet find equilibrium. His palm scrapes painfully, skin tearing across the rough surface, but it slows his momentum enough so he doesn't topple over and his grip keeps the girl upright as well (barely, but she seems to have good balance).
She immediately spins to face him with a murderous glare, hair fanned out, other hand raised and balled into a fist.
"Sorry," he says quickly, releasing her arm. "Are you okay?"
Her dark eyes flit over his appearance (they're wearing the same school uniform), expression becoming less wrathful and more confused, and finally a bit disdainful. She lowers her arm, to Yunho's relief. That fist of hers didn't look at all dainty, and she's got some height on her, only a couple inches shy of his own impressive stature. No wonder she hadn't felt lightweight - not that she's thick or bulky or anything, and his fingers curl as though recalling the shape of her wrist. There's no trace of fat in her face, either, which is kind of pretty now that he gets a good look at it, glare and all.
...Oh. Maybe he shouldn't stare.
Before Yunho can get another word out, the girl turns on her heel and takes off down the sidewalk at a run.
Nice legs, he can't help but think, watching her calves flash below the flutter of her skirt.
* * * * *
Jaejoong sits on the school roof with his back pressed to the wall of the covered stairwell, resting in its shadow. The breeze feels nice here and he closes his eyes, drifting, hardly moving when he hears the door creak open. A toe nudges his bare leg and the tranquil line of his lips becomes a frown.
"What?" he asks, not bothering to disguise his voice after he opens his eyes. Both his glare and tone have little effect on his best friend.
"Good afternoon to you too, 'Jaehwa'," says Yoochun, sliding down the wall to sit next to Jaejoong. He digs around in his pocket before pulling out a carton of cigarettes, offering it first to Jaejoong.
"I'm trying to quit," he demurs, and Yoochun answers with a snort.
"Trying to break your record of one week?"
"Six and a half days to go," Jaejoong deadpans. When Yoochun laughs, he allows a smirk to crawl upon his features.
"You know," Yoochun pauses while lighting up (Jaejoong is grateful that the wind blows the smoke in the other direction). "If anyone sees us here, they'll think we're dating."
"Like I care." But the reminder does make Jaejoong cross his legs and straighten his pleated skirt. He tugs the hem down out of uncomfortable habit, scowling at his bare knees and the smooth skin beyond them. Leg-shaving sucks, and was the first thing that slowed him down in the morning. Next, that idiot plowed into him...
One more year, though. One last year, and then he'll finish high school and leave the stupid dress code behind. Even better, if he can get the money to go overseas, he can finally leave 'Jaehwa' as well.
"Don't you?" Yoochun asks with speculative brows arched. "You were staring at the new guy all morning."
Jaejoong goes white at first, then red. His fists clench in the abused fabric of the female uniform (a hand-me-down from one of his taller sisters). "Yeah, because I was pissed. He ran into me on the way to school and then wouldn't stop looking-"
"Ah, so you're the accident."
"I'm the what?"
"I chatted him up a bit before coming here. Nice guy. Scraped half the skin off his palm from an 'accident' this morning." Smoke escapes in a rush from Yoochun's mouth and Jaejoong blinks, thinking of the hand clamping around his wrist that kept him from face-planting on the pavement, the other one braced against the wall.
"Oh." Pause. He picks at the skirt (which is starting to fray, damnit) "Is he all right?"
"Sure, he had it cleaned and bandaged before getting to class. What were to staring at the whole time, his face?"
"Yeah, right," Jaejoong mutters, but recalls with alarming clarity the earnest gaze that had rested on him for an unnervingly long time.
"Oooh." Yoochun prods him, his smile sharp, eyes squinting. "Jaejoongie got a crush?"
"What are you, nine?" Jaejoong elbows him back none too gently, but he grins crookedly at the playfulness all the same. "Even if I did, no guy is interested in fake tits." Though upon further consideration, his expression sours and he amends, "No normal guy."
"I'm telling you, you should stuff them more." This remark is made with a casualness that suggests a frequent argument.
Jaejoong shudders. "The less reason they have to stare, the better. You have no idea how creepy that is. I'm going to need therapy after I graduate." He's not even joking.
Inhale. Embers glowing. Exhale. Smoke billowing. Half-lidded eyes. "Still planning on leaving us?"
Jaejoong forces his hands to stay still in his lap. His family would understand. They've helped all this time, so of course they'd understand. They gave him the name ("you are Kim Jaehwa"), accepted him in ("our ninth daughter"), and kept him safe for the past ten years ("your father won't find you, we promise"). They know how grateful he is, and how much he needs to get out of Korea before the farce becomes too ridiculous. 'Jaejoong' hasn't lived nearly enough - and Yoochun is the only person who really knows who 'Jaejoong' is. They're both aware.
Graduation can't come fast enough.
"Class is going to start soon."
He steals Yoochun's cigarette and takes a drag, then puts it out.
* * * * *
"Jaehwa!" One of his sisters raps on the bathroom door. "Five minute warning!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Various containers clatter on the countertop as his hands busy themselves finding a tin of lip balm that isn't shimmery (fruity is fine, glitter is not). He twists the cap off the nearest one - cherry-chocolate scented and shaped like a truffle, which is slightly disconcerting even after he's been doing this for years. Jaejoong dabs his finger in the faux chocolate and slides it across his bottom lip. His makeup is always light, just enough to soften his features, because he hates the feeling of it caked on his face. Fortunately, he has a pretty good natural complexion anyway.
Jaejoong rests both hands on the edge of the sink and leans forward to scrutinize his face in the mirror. His eyes are nicely shaped, made bigger by light touches of eyeliner and mascara, and his lips are full and glossy (rarely colored because lipstick is gross), his skin clear and pale. The hair from the wig falls around his shoulders in a gentle wave. He used to grow his own hair out, but one day when he was sixteen Yoochun helped him cut it. Then he borrowed some clothes and they got on a train to Seoul. Jaejoong was merely Jaejoong for a while, just another teenage boy hanging out in the city with his best friend. He got a better haircut (learning that Yoochun shouldn't be trusted with a pair of scissors), window-shopped for men's clothing instead of women's, and could be left alone without other guys trying to pick him up. It hadn't been a total transformation though; Yoochun told him he still walked and sat and gestured like a girl, no matter what he looked like.
("Spread your knees more," Yoochun had instructed as they sat on a bench, kicking at the inside of his foot. "You're not wearing a skirt. Loosen up some, sprawl- Yeah, like that. And when you walk, don't do that thing with your hips. What do you mean, "what thing"?")
They take little trips like that on occasion now. Jaejoong has even started to regularly drop the disguise at home, trying to learn how to be comfortable in his own skin. So far, he can't tell if the in-between state is better or worse than the all-female state. His family worries about him slipping up and getting caught, but as he gets older...
Jaejoong turns his face slightly in the mirror, tracing the line of his jaw. There's nothing anyone can do about bone structure. He's already fairly tall, and though his clothing and mannerisms can create an illusion of a girlish figure, there's no way that will be convincing when he's in his twenties.
He sighs, turning from his reflection and stepping away from the sink as another knock rattles the door. "I'm coming," he says, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear. He tugs his uniform jacket into straightness and trains his expression into the cool mask Jaehwa usually wears.
* * * * *
Jaejoong always walks to school alone. Yoochun lives in the opposite direction, and they try not to be seen together, anyway. People would talk, and Jaejoong doesn't want to be talked about. He's known to be aloof and a little cold, though not outright mean¸ so the other students generally leave him alone. Getting too close with his female classmates would be risky, and the boys would be even worse. He's rejected a few love confessions (that will never not be awkward), and bearing constant witness to the less pleasant side of women has disillusioned him completely when it comes to the 'fairer sex'. Men aren't much better in those terms, but he thinks he envies them. He should envy them, being male himself.
He slows when he reaches the corner where he ran into the transfer student. Or rather, where the transfer ran into him. It had freaked him out something awful, being shoved and then grabbed like that, and he'd been ready to pummel the guy in spite of his carefully-maintained image. If it had been an honest mistake, it could be forgiven and forgotten, but the staring had unnerved him. That guy, he couldn't have noticed anything strange, could he? Jaejoong normally doesn't let people touch him.
He holds his arm out and wraps his fingers around his own wrist. True, he's not exactly delicate, but not all girls are slender waifs. He's skinny for his height, and he knows his face is feminine when it's made-up. There's probably nothing to worry about. The new student said there had been an "accident," and didn't point out Jaejoong sitting right there in the classroom (though their eyes had met briefly and he'd almost squirmed).
Jaejoong puts his hand to the brick wall and trails his palm over the rough surface. Even with light pressure, his skin catches on the texture and he pulls away uncomfortably...
Only to jolt at the sound of a voice from behind him.
"Good morning."
Jaejoong regains his composure in half a second before turning to face the same boy from before. "It's rude to sneak up on people," he says in the soft, pitched tone of Jaehwa, not bothering to conceal his annoyance. He's not surprised to see the guy, realizing with disappointment that they must walk the same path to school. He could easily find a different route, but it would take longer, and his mornings need to start earlier than most. Passing for a girl takes work.
"I'll try not to make it a habit." He doesn't sound smug, and his smile appears honest and good-natured. Jaejoong relaxes slightly. Infinitesimally. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to be rude."
"Apology accepted."
The curt reply doesn't faze him, and he continues cheerfully, "That's great! You weren't hurt or anything, right?"
"No..." Jaejoong's gaze travels down to the bandage wrapped around his hand. He can't help feeling somewhat guilty, so he asks, "How bad is that?"
"Oh, this?" He holds it up with a careless little wave. "I've had worse. By the way, my name is-"
"Jung Yunho, I remember," Jaejoong finishes with the corner of his mouth lifting upwards. Just to be polite, he adds, "I'm Kim Jaehwa, and if we don't start moving we're going to be late."
He starts walking again without pause.
to be continued
According to baby name sites, "Jaehwa" can be a girl's name. It's the only girl name I could find that begins with 'Jae'. It often seems to be a boy's name, though, but WHATEVER. As far as cliché fic ideas go, this one really takes the cake. I obviously read too much BL manga.
Category: Kpop (DBSK)
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2200
Summary: AU, high school. Boy meets girl. Girl is boy.
A frown tugs at the corners of Yunho's mouth as he checks his watch, pace quickening from hurried-walk to hurried-jog down the sloping sidewalk. His footfalls become heavier with the change in gait, carrying him along. He'd taken a wrong turn earlier, luckily not causing too much of a delay after receiving some helpful directions from a kindly old woman, but he doesn't enjoy the idea of being late on his first day.
New town, new school, and the usual concerns contained therein.
His fingers dig into the knot of his tie to loosen it while he adds another burst of speed, hair flying, and the air rushing in and out of his lungs. Better to be slightly unkempt than late. He's reaching the bottom of the hill, arm stretched out, hand cupping around the pole of a lamppost to aid his sharp turn around the corner-
Yunho's eyes go wide and he manages to utter a cry of alarm before barreling into the girl's back. They both stumble forward and he might've kicked her by accident, and gravity works, oh shit. He snags her by the wrist while his other hand scrabbles against the brick wall, trying to find purchase while his feet find equilibrium. His palm scrapes painfully, skin tearing across the rough surface, but it slows his momentum enough so he doesn't topple over and his grip keeps the girl upright as well (barely, but she seems to have good balance).
She immediately spins to face him with a murderous glare, hair fanned out, other hand raised and balled into a fist.
"Sorry," he says quickly, releasing her arm. "Are you okay?"
Her dark eyes flit over his appearance (they're wearing the same school uniform), expression becoming less wrathful and more confused, and finally a bit disdainful. She lowers her arm, to Yunho's relief. That fist of hers didn't look at all dainty, and she's got some height on her, only a couple inches shy of his own impressive stature. No wonder she hadn't felt lightweight - not that she's thick or bulky or anything, and his fingers curl as though recalling the shape of her wrist. There's no trace of fat in her face, either, which is kind of pretty now that he gets a good look at it, glare and all.
...Oh. Maybe he shouldn't stare.
Before Yunho can get another word out, the girl turns on her heel and takes off down the sidewalk at a run.
Nice legs, he can't help but think, watching her calves flash below the flutter of her skirt.
* * * * *
Jaejoong sits on the school roof with his back pressed to the wall of the covered stairwell, resting in its shadow. The breeze feels nice here and he closes his eyes, drifting, hardly moving when he hears the door creak open. A toe nudges his bare leg and the tranquil line of his lips becomes a frown.
"What?" he asks, not bothering to disguise his voice after he opens his eyes. Both his glare and tone have little effect on his best friend.
"Good afternoon to you too, 'Jaehwa'," says Yoochun, sliding down the wall to sit next to Jaejoong. He digs around in his pocket before pulling out a carton of cigarettes, offering it first to Jaejoong.
"I'm trying to quit," he demurs, and Yoochun answers with a snort.
"Trying to break your record of one week?"
"Six and a half days to go," Jaejoong deadpans. When Yoochun laughs, he allows a smirk to crawl upon his features.
"You know," Yoochun pauses while lighting up (Jaejoong is grateful that the wind blows the smoke in the other direction). "If anyone sees us here, they'll think we're dating."
"Like I care." But the reminder does make Jaejoong cross his legs and straighten his pleated skirt. He tugs the hem down out of uncomfortable habit, scowling at his bare knees and the smooth skin beyond them. Leg-shaving sucks, and was the first thing that slowed him down in the morning. Next, that idiot plowed into him...
One more year, though. One last year, and then he'll finish high school and leave the stupid dress code behind. Even better, if he can get the money to go overseas, he can finally leave 'Jaehwa' as well.
"Don't you?" Yoochun asks with speculative brows arched. "You were staring at the new guy all morning."
Jaejoong goes white at first, then red. His fists clench in the abused fabric of the female uniform (a hand-me-down from one of his taller sisters). "Yeah, because I was pissed. He ran into me on the way to school and then wouldn't stop looking-"
"Ah, so you're the accident."
"I'm the what?"
"I chatted him up a bit before coming here. Nice guy. Scraped half the skin off his palm from an 'accident' this morning." Smoke escapes in a rush from Yoochun's mouth and Jaejoong blinks, thinking of the hand clamping around his wrist that kept him from face-planting on the pavement, the other one braced against the wall.
"Oh." Pause. He picks at the skirt (which is starting to fray, damnit) "Is he all right?"
"Sure, he had it cleaned and bandaged before getting to class. What were to staring at the whole time, his face?"
"Yeah, right," Jaejoong mutters, but recalls with alarming clarity the earnest gaze that had rested on him for an unnervingly long time.
"Oooh." Yoochun prods him, his smile sharp, eyes squinting. "Jaejoongie got a crush?"
"What are you, nine?" Jaejoong elbows him back none too gently, but he grins crookedly at the playfulness all the same. "Even if I did, no guy is interested in fake tits." Though upon further consideration, his expression sours and he amends, "No normal guy."
"I'm telling you, you should stuff them more." This remark is made with a casualness that suggests a frequent argument.
Jaejoong shudders. "The less reason they have to stare, the better. You have no idea how creepy that is. I'm going to need therapy after I graduate." He's not even joking.
Inhale. Embers glowing. Exhale. Smoke billowing. Half-lidded eyes. "Still planning on leaving us?"
Jaejoong forces his hands to stay still in his lap. His family would understand. They've helped all this time, so of course they'd understand. They gave him the name ("you are Kim Jaehwa"), accepted him in ("our ninth daughter"), and kept him safe for the past ten years ("your father won't find you, we promise"). They know how grateful he is, and how much he needs to get out of Korea before the farce becomes too ridiculous. 'Jaejoong' hasn't lived nearly enough - and Yoochun is the only person who really knows who 'Jaejoong' is. They're both aware.
Graduation can't come fast enough.
"Class is going to start soon."
He steals Yoochun's cigarette and takes a drag, then puts it out.
* * * * *
"Jaehwa!" One of his sisters raps on the bathroom door. "Five minute warning!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Various containers clatter on the countertop as his hands busy themselves finding a tin of lip balm that isn't shimmery (fruity is fine, glitter is not). He twists the cap off the nearest one - cherry-chocolate scented and shaped like a truffle, which is slightly disconcerting even after he's been doing this for years. Jaejoong dabs his finger in the faux chocolate and slides it across his bottom lip. His makeup is always light, just enough to soften his features, because he hates the feeling of it caked on his face. Fortunately, he has a pretty good natural complexion anyway.
Jaejoong rests both hands on the edge of the sink and leans forward to scrutinize his face in the mirror. His eyes are nicely shaped, made bigger by light touches of eyeliner and mascara, and his lips are full and glossy (rarely colored because lipstick is gross), his skin clear and pale. The hair from the wig falls around his shoulders in a gentle wave. He used to grow his own hair out, but one day when he was sixteen Yoochun helped him cut it. Then he borrowed some clothes and they got on a train to Seoul. Jaejoong was merely Jaejoong for a while, just another teenage boy hanging out in the city with his best friend. He got a better haircut (learning that Yoochun shouldn't be trusted with a pair of scissors), window-shopped for men's clothing instead of women's, and could be left alone without other guys trying to pick him up. It hadn't been a total transformation though; Yoochun told him he still walked and sat and gestured like a girl, no matter what he looked like.
("Spread your knees more," Yoochun had instructed as they sat on a bench, kicking at the inside of his foot. "You're not wearing a skirt. Loosen up some, sprawl- Yeah, like that. And when you walk, don't do that thing with your hips. What do you mean, "what thing"?")
They take little trips like that on occasion now. Jaejoong has even started to regularly drop the disguise at home, trying to learn how to be comfortable in his own skin. So far, he can't tell if the in-between state is better or worse than the all-female state. His family worries about him slipping up and getting caught, but as he gets older...
Jaejoong turns his face slightly in the mirror, tracing the line of his jaw. There's nothing anyone can do about bone structure. He's already fairly tall, and though his clothing and mannerisms can create an illusion of a girlish figure, there's no way that will be convincing when he's in his twenties.
He sighs, turning from his reflection and stepping away from the sink as another knock rattles the door. "I'm coming," he says, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear. He tugs his uniform jacket into straightness and trains his expression into the cool mask Jaehwa usually wears.
* * * * *
Jaejoong always walks to school alone. Yoochun lives in the opposite direction, and they try not to be seen together, anyway. People would talk, and Jaejoong doesn't want to be talked about. He's known to be aloof and a little cold, though not outright mean¸ so the other students generally leave him alone. Getting too close with his female classmates would be risky, and the boys would be even worse. He's rejected a few love confessions (that will never not be awkward), and bearing constant witness to the less pleasant side of women has disillusioned him completely when it comes to the 'fairer sex'. Men aren't much better in those terms, but he thinks he envies them. He should envy them, being male himself.
He slows when he reaches the corner where he ran into the transfer student. Or rather, where the transfer ran into him. It had freaked him out something awful, being shoved and then grabbed like that, and he'd been ready to pummel the guy in spite of his carefully-maintained image. If it had been an honest mistake, it could be forgiven and forgotten, but the staring had unnerved him. That guy, he couldn't have noticed anything strange, could he? Jaejoong normally doesn't let people touch him.
He holds his arm out and wraps his fingers around his own wrist. True, he's not exactly delicate, but not all girls are slender waifs. He's skinny for his height, and he knows his face is feminine when it's made-up. There's probably nothing to worry about. The new student said there had been an "accident," and didn't point out Jaejoong sitting right there in the classroom (though their eyes had met briefly and he'd almost squirmed).
Jaejoong puts his hand to the brick wall and trails his palm over the rough surface. Even with light pressure, his skin catches on the texture and he pulls away uncomfortably...
Only to jolt at the sound of a voice from behind him.
"Good morning."
Jaejoong regains his composure in half a second before turning to face the same boy from before. "It's rude to sneak up on people," he says in the soft, pitched tone of Jaehwa, not bothering to conceal his annoyance. He's not surprised to see the guy, realizing with disappointment that they must walk the same path to school. He could easily find a different route, but it would take longer, and his mornings need to start earlier than most. Passing for a girl takes work.
"I'll try not to make it a habit." He doesn't sound smug, and his smile appears honest and good-natured. Jaejoong relaxes slightly. Infinitesimally. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to be rude."
"Apology accepted."
The curt reply doesn't faze him, and he continues cheerfully, "That's great! You weren't hurt or anything, right?"
"No..." Jaejoong's gaze travels down to the bandage wrapped around his hand. He can't help feeling somewhat guilty, so he asks, "How bad is that?"
"Oh, this?" He holds it up with a careless little wave. "I've had worse. By the way, my name is-"
"Jung Yunho, I remember," Jaejoong finishes with the corner of his mouth lifting upwards. Just to be polite, he adds, "I'm Kim Jaehwa, and if we don't start moving we're going to be late."
He starts walking again without pause.
to be continued
According to baby name sites, "Jaehwa" can be a girl's name. It's the only girl name I could find that begins with 'Jae'. It often seems to be a boy's name, though, but WHATEVER. As far as cliché fic ideas go, this one really takes the cake. I obviously read too much BL manga.