[one shot] i scream, you scream (please love me)
title: i scream, you scream (please love me)
pairing: jaebum/jackson
rating: pg13
genre: angst
warnings: maybe character death, references to blood, sexual tones but no explicit descriptions of sex
author: osehuns
notes: jaebum sees the world in blue, and jackson is the red.
a/n: a work in the drafts, doesn't feel like i really completed it propely, might come back to this. also if u read it story-wise(??) u might not get the blue/red references, but if u read it more as a symbolic piece... well it's still confusing lmao but there can be different interpretations maybe let me know what you thinks happens ok txs. also, its kind of based on k project, the anime. thanks for reading.
jaebum sees the world in blue.
he sees a crisp blue uniform and clear skies overcasting a city of corruption. he sees the pastel of a sweater he has worn out, still warm with his mother's touch, who cried for him not to leave the luxury he had once called home. he catches it in the water as it reflects azure clear when he finds her body floating on the glistening surface. he sees her drown in the deep, dark end every night, arms of water wrapping around his waist and holding him back as he screams to her, cries for her to hold on. he awakens in pools of sweat.
jackson sees the world in red.
he envisions blood-stained snow with his mother’s crimson hood, torn to pieces and scattered about. he sees it in the red wine as it spills from his glass every night because he drinks just a tad too much. he catches it as his latest conquest lies shivering beneath him, dressed in rubies and scarlet woes from head to toe. it’s there in the neon sign that hangs above them as they both stumble out the bar on the rare nights he catches the captain needy and vulnerable. jackson sees it most with flush of jaebum’s neck as he sucks down hard on the skin, marking his territory, slowly and painfully; with the warmth of his touch as his hands roam his arms, his back, his face. jaebum's lips crash against his own with such fury it’s all in shades of red, red, red.
jaebum suffocates.
he puts on a regal uniform each morning and returns home tainted, with the very icon he’s been taught to fight against. he's pushed in by the king of crimson delight, clawing away at his skin as clothes are thrown this way and that. his vision clouds as his fingers tangle within jackson's hair, thrusting in until he is engulfed deep in red. fire pools at his waist as he bites down on jackson's lips, desperate. with his teeth as sharp as canines, drops of blood trail down the side of his lover’s mouth and jaebum finally smiles.
jackson watches.
he stands on a rooftop at nightfall, watching the blue special forces building from across the street. he takes a step forward and then he's standing in the shadows of an office, eyes dancing with mischief. jaebum looks up, a stern expression overcoming his features, as if to dismiss. yet red meets blue mouth to mouth and jackson feels a hand curl into the fabric of his jacket. jackson pants as he is pushed against the wall, nails piercing into jaebum’s back.
jaebum wonders.
instead of doing the paperwork stacked high in front of him, he chooses to roll around in his chair and play with a pencil. his fingers subconsciously trail along the nape of his neck, where his skin is decorated with “love bites” as youngjae had called them when he came to offer morning coffee. a slight scarlet flush fills his cheeks, and jaebum gives up with the pencil and instead watches it dive for the floor. he wraps his arms around his torso, the action reminding him of how he had woken up in someone’s arms for the first time today. jaebum had blinked up at jackson, unsure to when the agreement had come to sleeping over at each other’s places. yet there it was, clear as day as jackson pulled him in closer and breathed out something that sounded awfully close to his name. now, jaebum closes his eyes as he feels something tug at his heart. he wonders when it became more than just the victorious blues against angry reds feud.
jackson only laughs.
he laughs and laughs some more as mark sighs in exasperation. love, a cruel four letter word that led to only heartache and sorrow. love, something he had once craved when he was an adolescent, still hungry for the fairytale ending his mother always spoke to him about. love, an emotion that only left those it inhabits in a state of lust and desperation. yet, love is what mark chooses to name the agreement between the red and blue kings. soon after, the laughter dies on jackson’s lips and he sits in silence. love, his mind whispers and his heart skips a beat. he blinks.
jaebum ignores.
jaebum ignores yugyeom, sipping on his tea and instead reading a report on the rise of the taxation. he ignores yugyeom as he lets out a small string of curses and shouts of you stupid old man! i’ll kill him, if i have to! he ignores yugyeom as the younger kicks a chair on his way out, well aware he’s probably on his way to meet bambam. jaebum found it amusing how yugyeom found it easy to tell him to take care of their growing problem, the red clan, despite being under his rule only a few years before. a traitor, bambam had accused when he laid eyes on the newly uniformed ex-clansmate. jaebum had watched with an entertained gaze, yet he wonders what he’s doing now is any different.
jackson shakes.
his voice shakes as he pulls himself home through the dark streets of seoul, not that he’d ever admit it if asked. his finger tips are painted crimson and his insides are burning hot and yet jackson craves for a pair of arms to wrap themselves around his waist and satisfy a different kind of heat. he attempts shaking bambam off, trying not to let frustration seep into his tone because he knows the other clansmate is right, he knows he’s been acting different lately, happier. he supposes he should thank jaebum. the thought makes him pause, ignoring bambam chattering rapidly into his ear.
jaebum looks for the stars.
jackson is like a star, the sun itself, a personification of all that is born good to the world, pure and innocent until a finger of corruption just wants to touch. jackson is like a burning star, on the brink of collapse and jaebum is his universe, watching the inevitable consume and destroy until there is nothing left, helpless to stop it. he watches the other ruin himself with power and the idea of helping other people with his entire inhabitant, until that very power is the cause of why he can’t help anyone any longer, not even himself. a man born to die.
jackson knows enough.
jackson doesn’t think he knows much, hasn’t always been the brightest pea in the pot, but he knows jaebum. he knows what it means when he can entwine their fingers and feel like he’s found the missing puzzle piece to his tiny speck of an existence. he knows what it means when he can nuzzle his head into the crook of jaebum’s neck and feel like he’s truly and finally home. he especially knows what it means when he can look up into the eyes of the very blue king he has given his days and nights to and feel shivers go up his spine yet is burning hot to the touch. he knows jaebum, but he wonders if jaebum knows him. he wonders how two people so different can be so similar.
jaebum thinks too much.
he thinks jackson is his sun and stars, lighting the dark tunnel jaebum had bottled himself into. he believes jackson came to him as a blessing in disguise of a man who laughs a little too loud, thinks a little too hard, and loves a little too much. then again, jaebum thinks to himself as he watches the other play with nora, the kitten jaebum’s father had gifted to him once upon a time, maybe that is what love is. maybe despite what yugyeom and bambam and countless others had told him, maybe this is real. yet, his heart whispers quietly, once you achieve the concept of pure and unconditional love, heartbreak always follows.
jackson looks for the way home.
jackson’s selfish and he knows it. he’s selfish as he glides across the battlefield with a wide grin, his slates at the point of exhaustion, thanks to his greed for justice and power from his own hands. the fall of a king spoke tragedy, the tragedy of a broken heart. he’s selfish as he ensures mark and bambam are back at home, away from the calculated moves and the idea of a war of the clans. he’s selfish as looks over at the exhaustion on jaebum’s faces, eyes practically screaming don’t make me do this. jackson smiles large and places a hand at his heart. do it, he says quietly, certain the other heard him. please do it, this time he whispers it internally.
but then, jaebum falters.
a string of curses clouds his mind over the creation of the slates and its kings, as beads of sweat trail down the side of his face, his uniform shirt stuck to his back. he wonders if there is a god, and if so, why he decides to making his life a living hell. naive im jaebum, with a lost dream to struggle to make a living in singing. he wonders why god gifts him with cruelty and an absence of love, why love is a concept so far out of his reach even when it’s standing right in front of him. shouts of do it fills his ears and jaebum realizes his hands are shaking. every fibre of his body protests, his heart is stuttering through beats, yet he pulls out his sword with a quiver in his voice, chanting the special forces motto. he pauses to close his eyes. a sob builds in his chest and he leaps forward.
but then, jackson drowns.
he tries to laugh but instead he chokes, a streak of soiled red trailing from his mouth. shaking, he manages to move a hand and touch his pulsing torso. it comes back as dark as his mother’s had when he found her in that alley. he smiles. his vision blurs and a thousand thank you’s lay silent on his lips. he sees the horror on jaebum’s face as he reaches forward to grab onto him, pulling him in tight against his chest. jackson finds himself unable to move, it's all leaking red. a sob racks jaebum’s body and jackson’s smile grows at the vibrations. in another life, he gasps out to his lover, watching the very blue uniform that had plunged a sword through his chest mourn, until the red crawls in. then it’s all red, red, red and he’s gone.
and jaebum watches.
his blood-stained hands stare back at him. he washes and washes with as much force as he can muster, scrubs till his hands are raw and pink, tender and sensitive. jinyoung’s reassurances fall from his ears as he can’t stop. somewhere along the line, his vision blurs. red is dead, a voice whispers yet there is no one there. there is no one there yet a voice whispers, red is dead. jaebum finally halts, breathing heavy as he looks over at his blue uniform, crisp and washed. red is dead.
pairing: jaebum/jackson
rating: pg13
genre: angst
warnings: maybe character death, references to blood, sexual tones but no explicit descriptions of sex
author: osehuns
notes: jaebum sees the world in blue, and jackson is the red.
a/n: a work in the drafts, doesn't feel like i really completed it propely, might come back to this. also if u read it story-wise(??) u might not get the blue/red references, but if u read it more as a symbolic piece... well it's still confusing lmao but there can be different interpretations maybe let me know what you thinks happens ok txs. also, its kind of based on k project, the anime. thanks for reading.
jaebum sees the world in blue.
he sees a crisp blue uniform and clear skies overcasting a city of corruption. he sees the pastel of a sweater he has worn out, still warm with his mother's touch, who cried for him not to leave the luxury he had once called home. he catches it in the water as it reflects azure clear when he finds her body floating on the glistening surface. he sees her drown in the deep, dark end every night, arms of water wrapping around his waist and holding him back as he screams to her, cries for her to hold on. he awakens in pools of sweat.
jackson sees the world in red.
he envisions blood-stained snow with his mother’s crimson hood, torn to pieces and scattered about. he sees it in the red wine as it spills from his glass every night because he drinks just a tad too much. he catches it as his latest conquest lies shivering beneath him, dressed in rubies and scarlet woes from head to toe. it’s there in the neon sign that hangs above them as they both stumble out the bar on the rare nights he catches the captain needy and vulnerable. jackson sees it most with flush of jaebum’s neck as he sucks down hard on the skin, marking his territory, slowly and painfully; with the warmth of his touch as his hands roam his arms, his back, his face. jaebum's lips crash against his own with such fury it’s all in shades of red, red, red.
jaebum suffocates.
he puts on a regal uniform each morning and returns home tainted, with the very icon he’s been taught to fight against. he's pushed in by the king of crimson delight, clawing away at his skin as clothes are thrown this way and that. his vision clouds as his fingers tangle within jackson's hair, thrusting in until he is engulfed deep in red. fire pools at his waist as he bites down on jackson's lips, desperate. with his teeth as sharp as canines, drops of blood trail down the side of his lover’s mouth and jaebum finally smiles.
jackson watches.
he stands on a rooftop at nightfall, watching the blue special forces building from across the street. he takes a step forward and then he's standing in the shadows of an office, eyes dancing with mischief. jaebum looks up, a stern expression overcoming his features, as if to dismiss. yet red meets blue mouth to mouth and jackson feels a hand curl into the fabric of his jacket. jackson pants as he is pushed against the wall, nails piercing into jaebum’s back.
jaebum wonders.
instead of doing the paperwork stacked high in front of him, he chooses to roll around in his chair and play with a pencil. his fingers subconsciously trail along the nape of his neck, where his skin is decorated with “love bites” as youngjae had called them when he came to offer morning coffee. a slight scarlet flush fills his cheeks, and jaebum gives up with the pencil and instead watches it dive for the floor. he wraps his arms around his torso, the action reminding him of how he had woken up in someone’s arms for the first time today. jaebum had blinked up at jackson, unsure to when the agreement had come to sleeping over at each other’s places. yet there it was, clear as day as jackson pulled him in closer and breathed out something that sounded awfully close to his name. now, jaebum closes his eyes as he feels something tug at his heart. he wonders when it became more than just the victorious blues against angry reds feud.
jackson only laughs.
he laughs and laughs some more as mark sighs in exasperation. love, a cruel four letter word that led to only heartache and sorrow. love, something he had once craved when he was an adolescent, still hungry for the fairytale ending his mother always spoke to him about. love, an emotion that only left those it inhabits in a state of lust and desperation. yet, love is what mark chooses to name the agreement between the red and blue kings. soon after, the laughter dies on jackson’s lips and he sits in silence. love, his mind whispers and his heart skips a beat. he blinks.
jaebum ignores.
jaebum ignores yugyeom, sipping on his tea and instead reading a report on the rise of the taxation. he ignores yugyeom as he lets out a small string of curses and shouts of you stupid old man! i’ll kill him, if i have to! he ignores yugyeom as the younger kicks a chair on his way out, well aware he’s probably on his way to meet bambam. jaebum found it amusing how yugyeom found it easy to tell him to take care of their growing problem, the red clan, despite being under his rule only a few years before. a traitor, bambam had accused when he laid eyes on the newly uniformed ex-clansmate. jaebum had watched with an entertained gaze, yet he wonders what he’s doing now is any different.
jackson shakes.
his voice shakes as he pulls himself home through the dark streets of seoul, not that he’d ever admit it if asked. his finger tips are painted crimson and his insides are burning hot and yet jackson craves for a pair of arms to wrap themselves around his waist and satisfy a different kind of heat. he attempts shaking bambam off, trying not to let frustration seep into his tone because he knows the other clansmate is right, he knows he’s been acting different lately, happier. he supposes he should thank jaebum. the thought makes him pause, ignoring bambam chattering rapidly into his ear.
jaebum looks for the stars.
jackson is like a star, the sun itself, a personification of all that is born good to the world, pure and innocent until a finger of corruption just wants to touch. jackson is like a burning star, on the brink of collapse and jaebum is his universe, watching the inevitable consume and destroy until there is nothing left, helpless to stop it. he watches the other ruin himself with power and the idea of helping other people with his entire inhabitant, until that very power is the cause of why he can’t help anyone any longer, not even himself. a man born to die.
jackson knows enough.
jackson doesn’t think he knows much, hasn’t always been the brightest pea in the pot, but he knows jaebum. he knows what it means when he can entwine their fingers and feel like he’s found the missing puzzle piece to his tiny speck of an existence. he knows what it means when he can nuzzle his head into the crook of jaebum’s neck and feel like he’s truly and finally home. he especially knows what it means when he can look up into the eyes of the very blue king he has given his days and nights to and feel shivers go up his spine yet is burning hot to the touch. he knows jaebum, but he wonders if jaebum knows him. he wonders how two people so different can be so similar.
jaebum thinks too much.
he thinks jackson is his sun and stars, lighting the dark tunnel jaebum had bottled himself into. he believes jackson came to him as a blessing in disguise of a man who laughs a little too loud, thinks a little too hard, and loves a little too much. then again, jaebum thinks to himself as he watches the other play with nora, the kitten jaebum’s father had gifted to him once upon a time, maybe that is what love is. maybe despite what yugyeom and bambam and countless others had told him, maybe this is real. yet, his heart whispers quietly, once you achieve the concept of pure and unconditional love, heartbreak always follows.
jackson looks for the way home.
jackson’s selfish and he knows it. he’s selfish as he glides across the battlefield with a wide grin, his slates at the point of exhaustion, thanks to his greed for justice and power from his own hands. the fall of a king spoke tragedy, the tragedy of a broken heart. he’s selfish as he ensures mark and bambam are back at home, away from the calculated moves and the idea of a war of the clans. he’s selfish as looks over at the exhaustion on jaebum’s faces, eyes practically screaming don’t make me do this. jackson smiles large and places a hand at his heart. do it, he says quietly, certain the other heard him. please do it, this time he whispers it internally.
but then, jaebum falters.
a string of curses clouds his mind over the creation of the slates and its kings, as beads of sweat trail down the side of his face, his uniform shirt stuck to his back. he wonders if there is a god, and if so, why he decides to making his life a living hell. naive im jaebum, with a lost dream to struggle to make a living in singing. he wonders why god gifts him with cruelty and an absence of love, why love is a concept so far out of his reach even when it’s standing right in front of him. shouts of do it fills his ears and jaebum realizes his hands are shaking. every fibre of his body protests, his heart is stuttering through beats, yet he pulls out his sword with a quiver in his voice, chanting the special forces motto. he pauses to close his eyes. a sob builds in his chest and he leaps forward.
but then, jackson drowns.
he tries to laugh but instead he chokes, a streak of soiled red trailing from his mouth. shaking, he manages to move a hand and touch his pulsing torso. it comes back as dark as his mother’s had when he found her in that alley. he smiles. his vision blurs and a thousand thank you’s lay silent on his lips. he sees the horror on jaebum’s face as he reaches forward to grab onto him, pulling him in tight against his chest. jackson finds himself unable to move, it's all leaking red. a sob racks jaebum’s body and jackson’s smile grows at the vibrations. in another life, he gasps out to his lover, watching the very blue uniform that had plunged a sword through his chest mourn, until the red crawls in. then it’s all red, red, red and he’s gone.
and jaebum watches.
his blood-stained hands stare back at him. he washes and washes with as much force as he can muster, scrubs till his hands are raw and pink, tender and sensitive. jinyoung’s reassurances fall from his ears as he can’t stop. somewhere along the line, his vision blurs. red is dead, a voice whispers yet there is no one there. there is no one there yet a voice whispers, red is dead. jaebum finally halts, breathing heavy as he looks over at his blue uniform, crisp and washed. red is dead.