.titles are for those who can speak
.Titles Are For Those Who Can Speak (And More For The Silence)
.homin, action/fluff
.The lights were on and the night was deep
a/n. okay, this was written WAY before even news of homin comeback started circulating so i will need to make a tribute to their fucking awesome hot visual sex of a comeback soon. like freaky soon. anyways, this piece has been waiting for a beta for a long time. if you're interested, call me. lol jk, just message me~
Changmin saw him for the first time in the train. The lights were on and the night was deep. The car was empty except for a hobo beside themselves, and it was imminent that his downcast eyes should find Changmin’s staring ones after a while. There was grief, and a flash of pain in those eyes, but Changmin softly smiled and waited until the stranger replies with a stilted replica of the gesture before turning to the book in his lap.
“Excuse me,” a voice said above him and Changmin looked up to see the man standing near him, holding tightly to the upright bar, “Can I ask for your help?”
Changmin tilted his head, and the man continued, “I don’t know where I’m going.”
Changmin took him home and on the way the man didn’t stopped talking, saying his name was Jaejoong and he had started living on his own in a new place but he didn’t know anything and had ran out of money on the way to Changmin’s city. He’s 25 and has seven older sisters and therefore had been living a sheltered life.
“How about you?” he asks, “what’s your name?”
Changmin stared at him for a minute, and then pulled out a blue notebook.
My name is Changmin, he writes, and I can’t talk.
He stayed for a night, and then two and then three. All of a sudden Changmin feels like Jaejoong just belonged in his house. He would woke up to the smell of bacon and toast and went to bed after a cup of coffee from the new maker Jaejoong bought. In between them, they talked.
Jaejoong liked to talk. About the weather, about the neightbor’s new cat, about how his parents used to make omelets with sugars, about everything. And Changmin listened. Sometimes he laughed silently, sometimes he guffawed in soundless spasms. And in turn he wrote to Jaejoong. About the clouds, about the new car in the commercial, about the squeaky hinges of the bathroom door, about nothing. And Jaejoong smiled back at him, sometimes exploding in laughter.
Changmin wondered if he had ever felt that his life was missing something, because Jaejoong filled an empty spot he never knew existed before.
They had work, Changmin at a local magazine and Jaejoong never told Changmin where he worked. All Changmin knew was that Jaejoong would disappear for a few days, on ‘work trip’ so the man says, and came back with a few more cash than they needed or a few bags filled with things they don’t even need much. Jaejoong didn’t bring anything when he left but always came back bearing something. Changmin never asked, and Jaejoong never told him, so they never brought it up.
One day Changmin found a bloodstain in one of Jaejoong’s shirt while he was out. He washed it with the right amount salt until it’s sparkling clean without thinning the cloth, and folded it neatly. When Jaejoong came back a few days later, Changmin smiled and offered him tea.
“Hey Changmin,” Jaejoong asked, “have you ever heard of the term ‘Brilliants’?”
Changmin paused his dish-cleaning for a moment, and looked at Jaejoong.
“Oh,” Jaejoong said with an unreadable emotion in his tone, “Okay. That’s good.”
Changmin never knew how Jaejoong’s childhood was like. Jaejoong never told him directly, but Changmin imagined it to be filled with sunlight and running around in tall grasses. He wondered how Jaejoong got the scar on his cheek, the one under his eyes that when seen in an angle looks like a tear is falling down. Not to mention others that must’ve come since the man is practically an accident magnet. He wondered what kind of stories his parents told him, what kind of hopes that his parents gave him, what kind of games he liked the most, what kind of superhero or fairytale was his favorite.
He wondered what kind of childhood can make someone so Jaejoong
There’s an empty bedroom in Changmin’s house that Jaejoong occupied after he moved in with Changmin, and on their first few days they had agreed that Changmin was granted full access to the room, for cleaning purposes and nothing else. Yet the truth was that often times Changmin crept in after Jaejoong came in and slept, just to watch his chest rise softly in slumber. He spent hours watching Jaejoong slept, and softly crept out when sunrise neared.
He loved Jaejoong the best when he was asleep.
It’s a hot day and Changmin felt like showering twice a day wasn’t enough. He’s in the middle of his third shower after lunch and the water was running down his head. It felt deliciously cold and relaxing and he shivered. He turned around to let the shower massage his back with its jets and found Jaejoong gaping at him.
“I knocked,” was the only thing he said before he hurriedly closed the door. Suddenly the room felt too hot for Changmin and he turned around again to let the water soak his suddenly strained body.
Changmin had thought of coming out, expressing his feelings, but Jaejoong were never there when the courage was with him and whenever he’s there, it’s hard for Changmin to breathe. He doesn’t even know how Jaejoong never heard of his hitched breath whenever he lifts his shirt accidentally when reaching up, or how he became uncomfortable whenever he sees Jaejoong watching the tv, his long legs twisting around the pillow from his room while he squirmed against the sofa trying to find a comfortable position that often more than not hitched his shirt up his chest a few notches and revealing soft tan skin with shaped muscles visible and Changmin reeled himself before he needed another trip to the toilet. Changmin even had dreamt about kissing the little black spot on top of the right edge of his mouth. Changmin wanted to tell him so bad.
The front door slammed open and close and Changmin jumped to his feet reflexively. He ran, and Jaejoong slammed him to the floor a few seconds before an explosion tore his front door off the hinges and flying inches above their heads.
“Changmin,” Jaejoong coughed, and there was blood all over him, “run.”
They were running under the stars, Jaejoong pulling Changmin with all his might for reasons Changmin doesn’t know why. All he saw was a shadow from all the mists of the explosion and Jaejoong had already grabbed him and pulling him through the back door. They were running up a hill when Jaejoong finally stopped.
“I think we lost him,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. Changmin notices that half of his right hand had been badly injured, with the rest of his body filled with scrapes and cuts and a weird black mark on his arm. “I’m sorry to bring you into this, I didn’t mean to. I never thought he’d follow me back to your place, I’m so sorry.”
Jaejoong was close to tears, Changmin can see. They’re almost at the top of the hill, and the tall grasses around them shook under the sudden gust blowing through them. Jaejoong’s face turned ashen.
“He’s here.”
Changmin turned to see an appallingly tall figure walking up the hill. His face was handsome and sculpted like an angel, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with matching tie and shoes. There were no emotions in his face and he walked sturdily, as if he was made of metal.
Jaejoong stepped in front of him, “go,” he says, “I’ll hold him off.”
Changmin walked over his side, and whispered get lost.
The figure exploded in a ball of blue flames.
“I don’t believe it,” Jaejoong exclaims, “you were once the leader of Brilliant?”
Changmin nodded softly, pulling the sheet that Jaejoong took from his room higher up his shoulders. A huge gaping hole as a front door lets in all the night wind and kept none of the heat. He whispered onto his note and the empty pages became filled with inked words in a second. He handed it over to Jaejoong, who smiled sadly after reading it.
“Of course, I’m sorry to have thought I could deceive you.” He looked down, avoiding Changmin’s stare. “My real name is Yunho. I’m a new recruit and I just finished my training when I finally saw what Brilliant actually do. I didn’t want to do it, I just don’t, so I decided to ran away.”
I know Jaejoong, Changmin wrote, he was a good friend and a powerful magician.
“He was my mentor, but he was also the one who showed me what Brilliant really is inside.”
What Brilliant is now isn’t what my father had in mind when he created it.
“What should we do then?”
Changmin turned his head from the ceilings to the young man beside him. He extended his hand. The note in front of Yunho was jotted down with new words.
Now that running won’t suffice, how about fighting back?
Yunho smiled and took his hand.
okay fuck fuck fuck this is so much fail i don't even know how this started in the first place.
.homin, action/fluff
.The lights were on and the night was deep
a/n. okay, this was written WAY before even news of homin comeback started circulating so i will need to make a tribute to their fucking awesome hot visual sex of a comeback soon. like freaky soon. anyways, this piece has been waiting for a beta for a long time. if you're interested, call me. lol jk, just message me~
Changmin saw him for the first time in the train. The lights were on and the night was deep. The car was empty except for a hobo beside themselves, and it was imminent that his downcast eyes should find Changmin’s staring ones after a while. There was grief, and a flash of pain in those eyes, but Changmin softly smiled and waited until the stranger replies with a stilted replica of the gesture before turning to the book in his lap.
“Excuse me,” a voice said above him and Changmin looked up to see the man standing near him, holding tightly to the upright bar, “Can I ask for your help?”
Changmin tilted his head, and the man continued, “I don’t know where I’m going.”
Changmin took him home and on the way the man didn’t stopped talking, saying his name was Jaejoong and he had started living on his own in a new place but he didn’t know anything and had ran out of money on the way to Changmin’s city. He’s 25 and has seven older sisters and therefore had been living a sheltered life.
“How about you?” he asks, “what’s your name?”
Changmin stared at him for a minute, and then pulled out a blue notebook.
My name is Changmin, he writes, and I can’t talk.
He stayed for a night, and then two and then three. All of a sudden Changmin feels like Jaejoong just belonged in his house. He would woke up to the smell of bacon and toast and went to bed after a cup of coffee from the new maker Jaejoong bought. In between them, they talked.
Jaejoong liked to talk. About the weather, about the neightbor’s new cat, about how his parents used to make omelets with sugars, about everything. And Changmin listened. Sometimes he laughed silently, sometimes he guffawed in soundless spasms. And in turn he wrote to Jaejoong. About the clouds, about the new car in the commercial, about the squeaky hinges of the bathroom door, about nothing. And Jaejoong smiled back at him, sometimes exploding in laughter.
Changmin wondered if he had ever felt that his life was missing something, because Jaejoong filled an empty spot he never knew existed before.
They had work, Changmin at a local magazine and Jaejoong never told Changmin where he worked. All Changmin knew was that Jaejoong would disappear for a few days, on ‘work trip’ so the man says, and came back with a few more cash than they needed or a few bags filled with things they don’t even need much. Jaejoong didn’t bring anything when he left but always came back bearing something. Changmin never asked, and Jaejoong never told him, so they never brought it up.
One day Changmin found a bloodstain in one of Jaejoong’s shirt while he was out. He washed it with the right amount salt until it’s sparkling clean without thinning the cloth, and folded it neatly. When Jaejoong came back a few days later, Changmin smiled and offered him tea.
“Hey Changmin,” Jaejoong asked, “have you ever heard of the term ‘Brilliants’?”
Changmin paused his dish-cleaning for a moment, and looked at Jaejoong.
“Oh,” Jaejoong said with an unreadable emotion in his tone, “Okay. That’s good.”
Changmin never knew how Jaejoong’s childhood was like. Jaejoong never told him directly, but Changmin imagined it to be filled with sunlight and running around in tall grasses. He wondered how Jaejoong got the scar on his cheek, the one under his eyes that when seen in an angle looks like a tear is falling down. Not to mention others that must’ve come since the man is practically an accident magnet. He wondered what kind of stories his parents told him, what kind of hopes that his parents gave him, what kind of games he liked the most, what kind of superhero or fairytale was his favorite.
He wondered what kind of childhood can make someone so Jaejoong
There’s an empty bedroom in Changmin’s house that Jaejoong occupied after he moved in with Changmin, and on their first few days they had agreed that Changmin was granted full access to the room, for cleaning purposes and nothing else. Yet the truth was that often times Changmin crept in after Jaejoong came in and slept, just to watch his chest rise softly in slumber. He spent hours watching Jaejoong slept, and softly crept out when sunrise neared.
He loved Jaejoong the best when he was asleep.
It’s a hot day and Changmin felt like showering twice a day wasn’t enough. He’s in the middle of his third shower after lunch and the water was running down his head. It felt deliciously cold and relaxing and he shivered. He turned around to let the shower massage his back with its jets and found Jaejoong gaping at him.
“I knocked,” was the only thing he said before he hurriedly closed the door. Suddenly the room felt too hot for Changmin and he turned around again to let the water soak his suddenly strained body.
Changmin had thought of coming out, expressing his feelings, but Jaejoong were never there when the courage was with him and whenever he’s there, it’s hard for Changmin to breathe. He doesn’t even know how Jaejoong never heard of his hitched breath whenever he lifts his shirt accidentally when reaching up, or how he became uncomfortable whenever he sees Jaejoong watching the tv, his long legs twisting around the pillow from his room while he squirmed against the sofa trying to find a comfortable position that often more than not hitched his shirt up his chest a few notches and revealing soft tan skin with shaped muscles visible and Changmin reeled himself before he needed another trip to the toilet. Changmin even had dreamt about kissing the little black spot on top of the right edge of his mouth. Changmin wanted to tell him so bad.
The front door slammed open and close and Changmin jumped to his feet reflexively. He ran, and Jaejoong slammed him to the floor a few seconds before an explosion tore his front door off the hinges and flying inches above their heads.
“Changmin,” Jaejoong coughed, and there was blood all over him, “run.”
They were running under the stars, Jaejoong pulling Changmin with all his might for reasons Changmin doesn’t know why. All he saw was a shadow from all the mists of the explosion and Jaejoong had already grabbed him and pulling him through the back door. They were running up a hill when Jaejoong finally stopped.
“I think we lost him,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. Changmin notices that half of his right hand had been badly injured, with the rest of his body filled with scrapes and cuts and a weird black mark on his arm. “I’m sorry to bring you into this, I didn’t mean to. I never thought he’d follow me back to your place, I’m so sorry.”
Jaejoong was close to tears, Changmin can see. They’re almost at the top of the hill, and the tall grasses around them shook under the sudden gust blowing through them. Jaejoong’s face turned ashen.
“He’s here.”
Changmin turned to see an appallingly tall figure walking up the hill. His face was handsome and sculpted like an angel, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with matching tie and shoes. There were no emotions in his face and he walked sturdily, as if he was made of metal.
Jaejoong stepped in front of him, “go,” he says, “I’ll hold him off.”
Changmin walked over his side, and whispered get lost.
The figure exploded in a ball of blue flames.
“I don’t believe it,” Jaejoong exclaims, “you were once the leader of Brilliant?”
Changmin nodded softly, pulling the sheet that Jaejoong took from his room higher up his shoulders. A huge gaping hole as a front door lets in all the night wind and kept none of the heat. He whispered onto his note and the empty pages became filled with inked words in a second. He handed it over to Jaejoong, who smiled sadly after reading it.
“Of course, I’m sorry to have thought I could deceive you.” He looked down, avoiding Changmin’s stare. “My real name is Yunho. I’m a new recruit and I just finished my training when I finally saw what Brilliant actually do. I didn’t want to do it, I just don’t, so I decided to ran away.”
I know Jaejoong, Changmin wrote, he was a good friend and a powerful magician.
“He was my mentor, but he was also the one who showed me what Brilliant really is inside.”
What Brilliant is now isn’t what my father had in mind when he created it.
“What should we do then?”
Changmin turned his head from the ceilings to the young man beside him. He extended his hand. The note in front of Yunho was jotted down with new words.
Now that running won’t suffice, how about fighting back?
Yunho smiled and took his hand.
okay fuck fuck fuck this is so much fail i don't even know how this started in the first place.