Changing Reflection
Title: Changing Reflection
Author: LovelessEnding (Aznmen)
Pairing: YooMin, HoSu :D
Rating: R (for language)
Warning: homophobic!Jae, language
A/N: For chromeheart
Summary: He was breathing heavily still, looked up at me curiously, and then relaxed into my arms, placing his head against my chest. I waited as his breathing slowed and his heartbeat came down from the skies, and when he looked back up at me “Thank-“ I kissed him. It was soft, hesitant, very cautious, and then as we both got into it (he wasn’t putting up any fight), I pushed a little further, liking the wet feeling of his lips touching mine.
I touch the looking glass, staring into my reflection, admiring the two faces staring back at me: mine and YooChun’s; my arms wrapped around him tightly, holding him close. He was leaned into me so that his back was an arch, pushing into my stomach, yet feeling so light that I would almost call him my butterfly. I stroke his face gently, watching how his eyes close, his movements stop until he’s simply leaning into my hand, and he’s so… beautiful. Our faces were young once, filled with naiveté and sweet youthful longing.
* * *
When he stares into my eyes, he’s no longer a butterfly but my own little fawn, a Bambi, and his little white spots will only stay on him until he grows old and mature. Yet when he nips at my lips lightly, and bounces away, I think of Thumper, and chase after him, all gangly legs and lanky arms.
He stops when he’s cornered and his eyes dart around trying to find some refuge where he can hide, but it’s all a ploy. As soon as I launch forwards he dashes out from underneath my arms and leaps onto my shoulders. He’s too heavy, but I strain and put my arms under his legs.
“Call me hyung… or I’ll never let you go,” and I run around the apartment for a little bit, all heavy stomps and loud yells.
“Put me down!” he howls, screams, but I keep on running, and smile as I hear Jaejoong and Junsu laughing in the background and for awhile, everything’s good in the world.
Shows, concerts, music videos, they all pass by and our looks change over and over. If we touch the looking glass, we might think it’s turned into a fun house mirror and distorted our bodies the way it thought fit. YooChun has turned all sharp angles and when I hold him, it’s not so comfy anymore.
“You’re as handsome as ever.” He says with a smile, and I turn away. I don’t want to hear it.
More fan service everyday, the girls loving the forbidden nature of male longing. Junsu clings onto YooChun, smiling and dimpling with this cute nature that shouldn’t be as forced as they make him do it. Sometimes I almost wish I had stayed the cute one… maybe then we would be the canon ‘YooSu’ couple. Yunho and Jaejoong, as compatible as a puppy and a tiger, are driven together by powers unbestown upon us. I, as the youngest, most innocent one, am paired up with nothing, the ugly duckling in a pack of swans. Although the thought that Yunho might be the puppy in the YunJae (or should it be JaeHo then?) couple cheers me up slightly.
Days after these fan serviced times, Junsu and YooChun stay away from each other as if it were the plague, and I can’t help but smile because even if YooChun isn’t as comfy as he used to be, he’s near me an awful lot.
Our first kiss was an accident. If one could call what had happened an accident. I think the better term for such an occurrence was a ‘planned coincidence’. We were on a trip to some stadium (I get the names of them confused) riding in the van. We had both leaned down to get something from underneath, and when we brought our faces back up, our lips touched. I didn’t think such a thing was possible, but obviously it occurred and my virgin lips were raped.
A second we stayed, or maybe an hour - it certainly felt that way - before we leapt apart as if the other had the plague. Jaejoong somehow got the moment on camera and threatened to leak it if I ever did something he didn’t like (although the truth being it didn’t matter if I did: he would never jeopardize the godly DBSK that way).
I’d like to say our second kiss was on purpose on both accounts. Some people might even say I took advantage of him… but hey, either way. His nerves were getting the best of him, and he was clearly showing it. It was his new solo song, and his outfit was tight, shiny, and showed off the perfect amount of skin (although he would say too much). His new haircut wasn’t the most flattering, but we all knew the stylist noona hates YooChun.
We all watched as he waved his hands as if he were dancing and walked back and forth, muttering something that sounded oddly like English, albeit broken, clearly accented, and no grammar rules held their ground. His eyes were flitting up and down, not focusing on anything, and we were sure he would forget the lyrics as soon as he got up there. I had planned on going over to help him.
Let me rephrase that. I meant to give him a hug. But this hug was a full-body one that restricted his hands at our waists, and the force of it pushed the two of us through the room we were in, through the small hallway, and into the tinier room across from the original. (I was sort of baffled by it too.) Given the sudden brief privacy, I stared at him. He was breathing heavily still, looked up at me curiously, and then relaxed into my arms, placing his head against my chest. I waited as his breathing slowed and his heartbeat came down from the skies, and when he looked back up at me “Thank-“ I kissed him. It was soft, hesitant, very cautious, and then as we both got into it (he wasn’t putting up any fight), I pushed a little further, liking the wet feeling of his lips touching mine.
When we pulled apart, he clutched at my arm tightly, and looked up at me, an almost longing look in his deep eyes, and I leaned in once more, and kissed him again.
Our relationship was full of secrets (for others), lies (to others), and forbidden trysts in the middle of the night. It was cautious touches, sudden kisses, and secretive glances. Perhaps from the beginning, we knew the potency of the secret, and fought to keep it so. We were afraid to tell anyone, because anything could be overheard, any touch could be seen, and things might leak out. We feared for our reputation, and the reputation of the people that surrounded us.
We fought more often, the stress getting to both of us. Sometimes he did something little, something that really shouldn’t have made me react so violently, but I’d lash out at him, and he’d have that hurt look and run away. I’d feel bad about it soon after, but for the moment I almost relished the look because he felt.
It should be expected that things wouldn’t last. We were attempting to reconcile. YooChun was latched to my neck, and I had rolled my hips into his, moaning softly when Junsu walked into the kitchen, closely followed by Yunho and Jaejoong. YooChun hadn’t seen anything, and my gasp merely thought that he was doing well, and had proceeded to put his hand down the back of my pants. “YooChun,” My voice was panicked, breathy from being in the middle of something, and hoarse from terror. “YooChun… stop, look.”
Junsu has run out of the kitchen, and Yunho and Jaejoong can only stare.
“Shit.”
Almost like we were found to be incestual, we’re separated, the bedrooms arranged to keep us as far apart as possible. Rides in the van are quiet and filled with stern silence. Junsu has kept as far apart as possible from the both of us, and hisses in fear when we come close to touching him. Jaejoong watches the both of us with eyes of a hawk, and never are we left out of his sight. (“Fan service is fan service. What’s done on stage means nothing, you hear me, nothing here. You two are no longer together. You’re not even canon, for gods’ sake, you can’t be together. Shit. Changmin, YooChun. I thought - god, what the fuck.” Jaejoong is livid, furious, and he’s the one to quickly give out orders.
Yunho tries to calm him down, saying things like, “It’s okay. They can be together. They don’t need to split. Being…” Yunho pauses, clenches his fists, “gay is okay.” He puts his hand on Jaejoong’s shoulder, “Jae. Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. Get your hand off of me, goddammit. They’re fucking gay. They take it in the ass and suck cock. What the fuck is okay about that?”
YooChun starts to cry, tries to reach out to Jaejoong, “Hyung…”
“Don’t fucking ‘hyung’ me, I don’t even want to see your goddamn faggot face right now, fucking queer.”)
It hurts. I want to touch YooChun, I want to be with him, comfort him, hold him to me and say, “It’s okay; it’s alright. There are people out there like that, but we’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Instead I’m stuck sitting next to Yunho, who thankfully hasn’t completely ostracized both of us, but wanting so badly to cry.
I have to be strong, YooChun still looks at me, and I see the pain in his entire demeanor; I try to give him looks of ‘you can get through this’, but he only shakes his head, and quickly wipes the tears.
However, what Jaejoong had hoped would tear us apart, only brings us closer together. I text him late at night, talking to him, reassuring him, and making plans.
Jaejoong has no control of what we do in concerts, he can’t keep us apart, and he can’t keep us from touching each other. Pictures almost immediately spring up, and the fan pairing ‘YooMin’ once a now-and-then popular pairing, came up everywhere.
Jaejoong screams at us when we get home, but surprisingly, Yunho stands up to him for us. He lets us move the rooms back again, and when Jaejoong tries to argue, Yunho is calm. “I am the leader. Now back the fuck off.”
Junsu has calmed exponentially, even apologizing to us, “I didn’t mean to ignore you; I just - I didn’t know what to think.”
And then YooChun smiles, “It’s alright. Can I… can I hug you now?”
Junsu runs forward, putting his arms around him and squeezing him tight, “You don’t want in?”
I grin, “It seems like this’ll be a gay sandwich.”
YooChun smiles now, laughs, even forgives. Jaejoong walks with an air of an injured puppy, almost as if everyone is out to get him. He swears sometimes, kicks the walls, and then he’ll look over at us, and get this weird look in his eye like he’s trying to figure out something. He’ll shake his head then, quiet and disillusioned.
Junsu ends up confessing to Yunho, who takes it with good grace. (Jaejoong runs around, screaming like a sailor, and then goes and
flops on his bed, “I fucking give up.”)
A/N: I was going through my old fanfics that hadn't been finsihed, and I found this one. This was requested by chunxo, now chromeheart, about ...idk. like 10 months ago? :Din any case, it's now finished. her original prompt was 'yoomin' - our love was blooming like a raising flower, beautiful and strong, until the skies turned gray and all hope blew away.
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