[Fic] We Are Not Gods
Title: We Are Not Gods
Pairing: Yunjae
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst. Comfort-y?
Summary: They were not Gods. They hurt and hurt those they loved. They could not fix their pain. They were only human; and humans learn to pick up the pieces and heal.
They were not Gods.
They could not save a marriage from failing or a precious loved one from dying. They argued with parents and chased dreams that were frowned upon. They argued with strangers that led to street brawls despite being in a new city without any friends or family.
They were not Gods.
They spent bitter winter nights without the warmth of a proper blanket or home. They did backbreaking labour and slogged hard just to survive. They fell ill and needed surgery. They signed contracts they were too young to fully comprehend what the terms entailed. They left their youth and careers at the mercy of a company they thought they could trust.
They were not Gods.
They lost their true identities behind stage names and concepts. They let others dictate how they should behave and spend their hours. They could not immediately repeat their Korean domination in Japan.
They were not Gods.
They sang to embarrassingly small crowds and appeared on television programs that aired when people were sound asleep. They did nothing but were shuttled between their dorm and the company. They got badly injured enough to be wheelchair-bound. They caused those who love them to worry.
They were not Gods.
They could not stop their families’ affairs from becoming public. They did not drive safely. They could not prevent tears from flowing when emotions got overwhelming. They got tricked and got horribly ill and had to be hospitalised. They were accused of faking poor health to avoid enlistment.
They were not Gods.
They fell. They could not settle the differences among themselves. They let a lawsuit tear them apart. They lost their tempers and lashed out at fans. They gave a last performance together that was one to forget. They turned a fandom into a warzone. They could not save a brotherhood from crumbling. They could not hold their family together.
They were not Gods.
They broke promises. They told lies. They said things publicly that hurt each other. They caused thousands who loved and cared about them to agonise and cry. They could do nothing but watch the empire they had built together crumble into bits of dust, easily blown away by a gentle breeze.
They were not Gods.
They cried. They hurt and hurt those they loved. They felt tired. They forgot the dreams they shared. They could not protect what was once the centre of their worlds from becoming nothing but memories that would fade with time. They became two sides of the same coin, bound together forever but never to meet again. They were not invincible.
They were not Gods.
That was why Jung Yunho and Kim Jaejoong stood across each other in a chaotic room, their skin littered with cuts and bruises, hearts battered, and muscles aching from exhaustion. Furniture was lying everywhere it did not rightfully belong to, thrown about because they could not control the anger they felt. Skin broke and blood oozed out because they were not immune to punches thrown in frustration. Lips spilled poison laced with malice because they were not saints. Cheeks were wet and coloured because they could not prevent their hearts from feeling all the pain from spiteful words thrown at each other. Heads throbbed from coming into brutal contact with floors and walls and from all the problems they were acutely aware of, but were beyond their abilities to solve. Hearts ached and bled from being exhausted and battle-weary and because, try as they might, they just could not stop feeling.
They were not Gods.
They were only human. They had flaws. They made mistakes and hurt and cry and feel anger. They could not fix the situation. They could not heal themselves from the pain they felt. They could not help themselves from wanting to hug and kill the person standing across themselves.
Jaejoong broke first, legs giving way beneath him as his bum landed unglamorously on the floor, missing a broken table leg by a few inches. Yunho’s hapkido skills had given the taller man an advantage over him in a physical brawl. The latter followed suit at his spot across Jaejoong on the other side of the room. The sea of carnage that separated them was almost like all the things that stood between the two sides from coming back together as one - uncountable and hazardous.
Jaejoong let out a laugh, wild and icy with his head thrown back. Yet tears were streaming down his bruised cheeks. He was not sure what he was laughing at or crying for. Himself? Yunho? Their situation? He really did not know. There was just this urge to let all the suppressed emotions rise to the surface and explode before he drowned in them.
“I wish there was a way to fix it all,” he whispered whimsically to a fallen chair beside him, one hand reaching out to toy with the splintered wood of one of its legs.
Yunho snorted, putting his weight on one arm pressed against the scratched floor as he leaned back, exhausted. His other hand was brought to his face, dabbing gingerly at the blood pooling at the corner of his mouth and hissing at the sting. “You started this mess; you fix it.”
Jaejoong’s hand paused in its ministrations, thoughtful. Thoughts seemed to slowly link themselves and formed a delicate chain in his head. His hand resumed its job of plucking out stray splinters of wood, making a conscious effort to push the sharp edges hard against his flesh. “I just want something to hold on to… something I can call mine,” his eyes travelled to the ceiling, a vacant look marring their usual shine. “I didn’t have a say in my birth parents’ separation. I didn’t have a choice in which family I was to be brought up in. I didn’t choose to join DBSK; I was assigned to the group. I didn’t have a choice in who the other members would be. I barely heard myself in all the activities that followed for the next five years… I just want to be the one holding the reins of my life for once. When I die, I want to go knowing I’ve lived the life I’ve chosen.” His eyes fell to the floor again, as though he had used up all his strength to word his thoughts. “I need a constant in my life; why can’t you be the one?” he added softly, an afterthought.
Yunho lazily brought his hand from his face to the floor. “I can’t,” he concluded simply, eyes trained on his toes, noting how one of the nails had been roughly chipped.
“Why? I want, no, I need you to. You were always so good at understanding me…”
It was hard not to notice the disappointment laced in Jaejoong’s voice even if Yunho was avoiding looking at his face. The younger of them could not resist a grin and a small chuckle, Jaejoong’s words having unknowingly triggered fond memories.
“There are many things we want but we can’t have, Jaejoong-ah.”
“Why?”
Yunho shrugged. Some of their conversations were between the eldest and the younger one. This was one that was between the leader and his member. They tend to slip into their different roles according to what each other needed; they always had. “We are not perfect, Jaejoong-ah.”
There was a defeated sigh, so full of disappointment Yunho swore he could feel it sink its slow death to the ground. “We are supposed to be,” Jaejoong argued, not caring that he probably sounded like a spoiled child to his leader, “we are Gods of the East.” He had realised he could stop caring about how he looked in front of Yunho a long time ago.
“I want to fix this,” Jaejoong persisted, ignoring Yunho’s weary sigh of protest. “I want to dictate my own life, and I want you and Changmin to be standing beside me and Yoochun and Junsu when we perform,” he was sitting upright now, a fierce determination burning in his eyes.
“You can’t fix everything-”
“I want to.”
“You can’t have everything,” Yunho shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling tension building up there.
“I don’t want everything!” Jaejoong spluttered, seemingly aghast that Yunho was still missing his point. “I just want to be me without losing my brother; my best friend - my other half.”
Yunho smiled, head still bowed. “Well, I guess you can’t have that either.”
“I’ve already lost you, haven’t I?”
Yunho did not reply, although his smile took a sad twist at Jaejoong’s words. Jaejoong observed him for a moment before obliging his silence, eyes returning back to the floor with an inaudible sigh that shook his defeated frame.
“Don’t want too much, Jaejoong-ah; you’ll only end up getting hurt when you realise the magnitude of the things we can’t do.”
“Why?”
“Because we are not Gods, Jaejoong; just human. Just ‘you’ and ‘me’ - imperfect humans.”
And humans love and hate. They hurt and heal. They make mistakes and may never learn from them. They laugh and cry. They create memories and forget them. They make promises and break them. They meet people only to part with them.
When Yunho and Jaejoong parted ways that night, they wished each other all the best with unshed tears and unspoken words lingering in their tired eyes.
While Gods had eternity to hope, humans change and move on.
And they were only human.
*~*~*~*~*
*master fic list
A/N: Because writing is one of the best ways I know of to deal with shit RL throws at fandom. :/
Happy (possible) last day on Earth, everybody.
Pairing: Yunjae
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst. Comfort-y?
Summary: They were not Gods. They hurt and hurt those they loved. They could not fix their pain. They were only human; and humans learn to pick up the pieces and heal.
They were not Gods.
They could not save a marriage from failing or a precious loved one from dying. They argued with parents and chased dreams that were frowned upon. They argued with strangers that led to street brawls despite being in a new city without any friends or family.
They were not Gods.
They spent bitter winter nights without the warmth of a proper blanket or home. They did backbreaking labour and slogged hard just to survive. They fell ill and needed surgery. They signed contracts they were too young to fully comprehend what the terms entailed. They left their youth and careers at the mercy of a company they thought they could trust.
They were not Gods.
They lost their true identities behind stage names and concepts. They let others dictate how they should behave and spend their hours. They could not immediately repeat their Korean domination in Japan.
They were not Gods.
They sang to embarrassingly small crowds and appeared on television programs that aired when people were sound asleep. They did nothing but were shuttled between their dorm and the company. They got badly injured enough to be wheelchair-bound. They caused those who love them to worry.
They were not Gods.
They could not stop their families’ affairs from becoming public. They did not drive safely. They could not prevent tears from flowing when emotions got overwhelming. They got tricked and got horribly ill and had to be hospitalised. They were accused of faking poor health to avoid enlistment.
They were not Gods.
They fell. They could not settle the differences among themselves. They let a lawsuit tear them apart. They lost their tempers and lashed out at fans. They gave a last performance together that was one to forget. They turned a fandom into a warzone. They could not save a brotherhood from crumbling. They could not hold their family together.
They were not Gods.
They broke promises. They told lies. They said things publicly that hurt each other. They caused thousands who loved and cared about them to agonise and cry. They could do nothing but watch the empire they had built together crumble into bits of dust, easily blown away by a gentle breeze.
They were not Gods.
They cried. They hurt and hurt those they loved. They felt tired. They forgot the dreams they shared. They could not protect what was once the centre of their worlds from becoming nothing but memories that would fade with time. They became two sides of the same coin, bound together forever but never to meet again. They were not invincible.
They were not Gods.
That was why Jung Yunho and Kim Jaejoong stood across each other in a chaotic room, their skin littered with cuts and bruises, hearts battered, and muscles aching from exhaustion. Furniture was lying everywhere it did not rightfully belong to, thrown about because they could not control the anger they felt. Skin broke and blood oozed out because they were not immune to punches thrown in frustration. Lips spilled poison laced with malice because they were not saints. Cheeks were wet and coloured because they could not prevent their hearts from feeling all the pain from spiteful words thrown at each other. Heads throbbed from coming into brutal contact with floors and walls and from all the problems they were acutely aware of, but were beyond their abilities to solve. Hearts ached and bled from being exhausted and battle-weary and because, try as they might, they just could not stop feeling.
They were not Gods.
They were only human. They had flaws. They made mistakes and hurt and cry and feel anger. They could not fix the situation. They could not heal themselves from the pain they felt. They could not help themselves from wanting to hug and kill the person standing across themselves.
Jaejoong broke first, legs giving way beneath him as his bum landed unglamorously on the floor, missing a broken table leg by a few inches. Yunho’s hapkido skills had given the taller man an advantage over him in a physical brawl. The latter followed suit at his spot across Jaejoong on the other side of the room. The sea of carnage that separated them was almost like all the things that stood between the two sides from coming back together as one - uncountable and hazardous.
Jaejoong let out a laugh, wild and icy with his head thrown back. Yet tears were streaming down his bruised cheeks. He was not sure what he was laughing at or crying for. Himself? Yunho? Their situation? He really did not know. There was just this urge to let all the suppressed emotions rise to the surface and explode before he drowned in them.
“I wish there was a way to fix it all,” he whispered whimsically to a fallen chair beside him, one hand reaching out to toy with the splintered wood of one of its legs.
Yunho snorted, putting his weight on one arm pressed against the scratched floor as he leaned back, exhausted. His other hand was brought to his face, dabbing gingerly at the blood pooling at the corner of his mouth and hissing at the sting. “You started this mess; you fix it.”
Jaejoong’s hand paused in its ministrations, thoughtful. Thoughts seemed to slowly link themselves and formed a delicate chain in his head. His hand resumed its job of plucking out stray splinters of wood, making a conscious effort to push the sharp edges hard against his flesh. “I just want something to hold on to… something I can call mine,” his eyes travelled to the ceiling, a vacant look marring their usual shine. “I didn’t have a say in my birth parents’ separation. I didn’t have a choice in which family I was to be brought up in. I didn’t choose to join DBSK; I was assigned to the group. I didn’t have a choice in who the other members would be. I barely heard myself in all the activities that followed for the next five years… I just want to be the one holding the reins of my life for once. When I die, I want to go knowing I’ve lived the life I’ve chosen.” His eyes fell to the floor again, as though he had used up all his strength to word his thoughts. “I need a constant in my life; why can’t you be the one?” he added softly, an afterthought.
Yunho lazily brought his hand from his face to the floor. “I can’t,” he concluded simply, eyes trained on his toes, noting how one of the nails had been roughly chipped.
“Why? I want, no, I need you to. You were always so good at understanding me…”
It was hard not to notice the disappointment laced in Jaejoong’s voice even if Yunho was avoiding looking at his face. The younger of them could not resist a grin and a small chuckle, Jaejoong’s words having unknowingly triggered fond memories.
“There are many things we want but we can’t have, Jaejoong-ah.”
“Why?”
Yunho shrugged. Some of their conversations were between the eldest and the younger one. This was one that was between the leader and his member. They tend to slip into their different roles according to what each other needed; they always had. “We are not perfect, Jaejoong-ah.”
There was a defeated sigh, so full of disappointment Yunho swore he could feel it sink its slow death to the ground. “We are supposed to be,” Jaejoong argued, not caring that he probably sounded like a spoiled child to his leader, “we are Gods of the East.” He had realised he could stop caring about how he looked in front of Yunho a long time ago.
“I want to fix this,” Jaejoong persisted, ignoring Yunho’s weary sigh of protest. “I want to dictate my own life, and I want you and Changmin to be standing beside me and Yoochun and Junsu when we perform,” he was sitting upright now, a fierce determination burning in his eyes.
“You can’t fix everything-”
“I want to.”
“You can’t have everything,” Yunho shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling tension building up there.
“I don’t want everything!” Jaejoong spluttered, seemingly aghast that Yunho was still missing his point. “I just want to be me without losing my brother; my best friend - my other half.”
Yunho smiled, head still bowed. “Well, I guess you can’t have that either.”
“I’ve already lost you, haven’t I?”
Yunho did not reply, although his smile took a sad twist at Jaejoong’s words. Jaejoong observed him for a moment before obliging his silence, eyes returning back to the floor with an inaudible sigh that shook his defeated frame.
“Don’t want too much, Jaejoong-ah; you’ll only end up getting hurt when you realise the magnitude of the things we can’t do.”
“Why?”
“Because we are not Gods, Jaejoong; just human. Just ‘you’ and ‘me’ - imperfect humans.”
And humans love and hate. They hurt and heal. They make mistakes and may never learn from them. They laugh and cry. They create memories and forget them. They make promises and break them. They meet people only to part with them.
When Yunho and Jaejoong parted ways that night, they wished each other all the best with unshed tears and unspoken words lingering in their tired eyes.
While Gods had eternity to hope, humans change and move on.
And they were only human.
*~*~*~*~*
*master fic list
A/N: Because writing is one of the best ways I know of to deal with shit RL throws at fandom. :/
Happy (possible) last day on Earth, everybody.