Black Rose 3
Title: Black Rose
Pairings: main!DooSeob, side!JunSeung, Kiwoon, friendship!KiSeob
Characters: B2ST, 4minute, G.Na, FT Island
Rating: PG-13 for now, will go up later
Disclaimer/Warning: I do not own the characters, just the plot. Mature themes, some violence, angst.
Summary: The past cannot be forgotten, nor can it be changed. The past affects the future. Yoseob knows that quite well.
4 years ago.
Yoseob twitched nervously as the girl across the marble counter smiled at him. Just because it was their second date didn’t mean that he was any more comfortable around Sohyun. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. Yoseob didn’t really know why, though. Maybe it was because he had accepted the latter’s confession out of pity, or maybe it was due to partial jealousy.. No. It couldn’t have been jealousy. That was stupid, wasn’t it? If Doojoon wanted to keep going out with a multiplicity of girls, he could. What did Yoseob care? Doojoon barely knew he existed, anyway.
The bells on the door clanged together as the glass barrier was pushed open. Yoseob glanced up from his active fingers . . . and froze. It was Doojoon, with Jihyun. Jihyun was a totally beautiful, smart, and sweet girl, but Yoseob still had to struggle to stifle the feeling of hatred that bubbled to the surface of his heart.
“Hey, Yoseob.” Doojoon smiled at the younger boy warmly. Yoseob felt his heart flutter- oh my fucking god, what the hell was happening to him? Doojoon knew his name, though the cynical part of Yoseob reasoned that it was only because of his name tag. The elder boy turned back to his date. “What would you like, Jihyun-ah?”
“Oh, I’m really craving samgyetang. Buy it for me, Doojoon-ssi?”
“Of course.” Doojoon looked at Yoseob expectantly, and then swung his gaze back to his girlfriend. The blond boy spun around, heading into the kitchen.
Admittedly, working for his parents had its perks. He got paid, even when he didn’t do much work, and he technically was at home. But then again, since the store was on campus, he had to deal with seeing his friends and foes, respectively, every single day.
Yoseob sighed wistfully, impaling the flimsy sheet of paper on the order spindle. If he had one wish, it would be for Doojoon to . . . love him . . .
* * *A faint smile ghosted over Yoseob’s child-like features, the familiar scent of aftershave, wax, and sweat wafting into his nostrils. The boy smiled, intently watching the only other person in the studio. The latter seemed to move with an unearthly gracefulness, his scrawny and pointed limbs sharply contrasting the fluidity of his maneuvers. Then the music came to an abrupt halt, and the dancer whirled around to face Yoseob. Carrot locks slightly displaced, his doe eyes became filled with happiness, and Hyunseung almost sprinted, trying to reach the brunette as quickly as possible.
“Seung!”
“Seobie! You’re here!” The elder wrapped his arms around Yoseob’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder. Hyunseung soon pulled away, almost rabid with excitement. He did a quick once-over of his friend, then nodded in satisfaction. “You look great, and in excellent condition to do some dancing with me.”
Yoseob chuckled, unfazed by his hyung’s demand. He moved to the iPod dock stationed in a corner of the pristine room. Scrolling through the various songs, he chose “Written in the Stars,” by Tiny Tempah, featuring Eric Turner. It was one of the few western songs he had ever listened to.
After a going through a few routines from back when they were in high school, which included popping, locking, and b-boying, the two friends smiled at each other and sat down on the cold hardwood floor.
“So, Seungie. What have you been up to these days?”
“Ah. There lies the eternal question. Actually, nothing much. Junnie’s being a jerk. He works fourteen hours a day, and sleeps for eight more. Plus, whenever he gets home, he’s too tired to actually do anything with me.” Hyunseung sighed, clearly frustrated and sex-deprived. “‘Seung, make me kimbap! Seung, make me bulgogi! Seung, don’t touch that, it’s for work! Seung, don’t bother me, I’m not in the mood!’” The elder man tried to imitate his boyfriend’s voice. He failed. “That’s all I fucking hear from him! Mixed in with the occasional, but quite rare ‘Seung, I love you.’ Do you know how much it’s been pissing me off?!” The boy’s eyes had turned wild, but were quickly controlled.
“Okay, Seungie. What about . . . the others?”
“Oh. Of course. Hongki’s fine. He and Jonghun are going great, apparently. In fact, I heard through the grapevine that Jong is planning to propose soon. Isn’t that great?!” Hyunseung exclaimed, grinning broadly. “Oh, and there’s Hyunah. She’s really doing well; she opened her own dance school, and it’s been thriving. Like seriously. There’s a waiting list. And she and Joon recently moved in together. Life is totally blissful for them. But. . .” he trailed off. “But Doojoon. . .” Yoseob tensed and Hyunseung noticed, but chose to ignore it. “Doojoon is . . . kind of . . . messed up . . . I guess. You know, he’s always at the office or out at some club fucking some girl,” Yoseob winced, as if this statement caused him physical pain, “and . . . yeah . . . Seob, Doojoon’s been pretty crappy since you left him.”
The younger sighed. Hyunseung had never seemed to understand why Yoseob had severed ties with Doojoon. And it had been a year. Which should be enough time to get over someone else’s break-up. “But you love him,” he had insisted over and over at that time. However, when Yoseob had told him to drop it, he had complied wordlessly with a cute, Hyunseung-like pout.
“I’m not going back, though. Never. I’m never going back to him.”
“Did I tell you to? I’m not forcing you to do anything, Yoseob. I’m just giving you the facts.”
“Well . . . the facts suck.”
“Okay. Gosh.”
The two boys settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the squeaking of Hyunseung’s purple sneakers.
* * *Doojoon’s eyebrow was raised. He gazed at Junhyung, slightly creeped out.
“Does this look okay?” the younger man was asking, tugging at his styled hair.
“Why would you ever go out wearing that thing?”
“Because I love him, Doojoon-ah.” Junhyung sounded desperate, eager for Doojoon to finally understand the direction of his heart. At the latter’s blank look, the younger sighed.
“If you wanted to cheer Yoseob up . . . you know, when you were still together . . .” -Junhyung was often very blunt, and had gotten over Doojoon’s broken relationship quickly- “would you dress as . . . I don’t know, Dooly?”
“I . . . yes . . .” Doojoon gave a defeated sigh. “Okay. Just . . . can you keep your distance from me? It’s really embarrassing.”
Junhyung was clad in a penguin costume, which was, to put it mildly, annoyingly obvious. Doojoon knew that his best friend and Hyunseung had been on the edge of a break-up lately, so he didn’t entirely hate Junhyung for dragging him along.
However, deep inside his heart, pain slashed at him incessantly. Seeing Junhyung so blinded by love struck a chord that resonated immensly.
Shit . . . this is exactly what Yoseob and I used to be like . . .
* * *Doojoon laughed heartily as he followed behind Junhyung. It was actually surprising that the two men were best friends; their personalities clashed completely and their desire to succeed fueled their competitive spirits.
“Why are you doing this again?” the elder asked, trying to create yet another opportunity to mock his friend.
With a roll of his brown eyes, Junhyung didn’t bother to answer. He knew Doojoon too well, knew that ever since his relationship with Yoseob had ended, Doojoon had begun to ridicule other couples around him. Junhyung had loads of first-hand experience to support this fact.
As they reached the building, Doojoon smiled. He loved this place. Even though he wasn’t such a prodigious dancer, the studio was a sanctuary from the real world. The man remembered him and Junhyung and Hyunseung and . . . Yoseob . . . coming here, just laying on the floor, talking and eating Choco Pies until they were sick. Doojoon remembered . . .
A sudden agony shot through his heart. It was so painful, he felt like he was going to shatter, like he would break apart into a million pieces. Like he would, like he could, never exist anymore.
Extinguishing the hurt was tiring. But somehow, Doojoon managed to achieve it. He knew that this blockade was only temporary, though. He knew that it could only hold for so long.
You now that you can be living like this for only so long . . .
The thought sprang to the front of his mind, trapping it, so that all he could ponder over were his memories and his regrets.
Ah, fuck.
Finally, they came to room six. The wooden door was a formidable barrier, and it definitely took a lot of courage for Junhyung to push it open. He stepped through almost timidly, Doojoon trailing behind him.
“Uh . . . sorry to bother you, but . . . Hyunseung-ah?” Junhyung’s voice was almost a whisper, yet it echoed throughout the space. Doojoon kept his gaze on his feet, feeling like he was intruding. This was the most privacy he could give them, though, without having to leave.
“Junhyung . . .” Even without looking at the orange-haired man’s face, Doojoon could tell that he was on the verge of tears. His voice was rough and scratchy, and there were repeated sniffles coming from that general direction. Hyunseung was never one for ignoring the people he loved. It was like Hyunseung needed his friends and his boyfriend around, like if it wasn’t so, he couldn’t go on with life.
And then Doojoon heard it, heard . . . him . . . and it almost drove him into the abyss of insanity. It made him want to shout in joy, punch something in frustration, cry in sadness.
“D-Doojoon.”
His head snapped up, and his eyes drank everything in with a hurried fervor. The once blond hair now gone brown, the short stature, skinny waist, chubby cheeks, twinkling eyes.
Doojoon’s voice was hushed when he finally spoke. “Yoseob.”
(A/N: I'll give the first three people to comment a spot in the next post of this fic.)
Pairings: main!DooSeob, side!JunSeung, Kiwoon, friendship!KiSeob
Characters: B2ST, 4minute, G.Na, FT Island
Rating: PG-13 for now, will go up later
Disclaimer/Warning: I do not own the characters, just the plot. Mature themes, some violence, angst.
Summary: The past cannot be forgotten, nor can it be changed. The past affects the future. Yoseob knows that quite well.
4 years ago.
Yoseob twitched nervously as the girl across the marble counter smiled at him. Just because it was their second date didn’t mean that he was any more comfortable around Sohyun. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. Yoseob didn’t really know why, though. Maybe it was because he had accepted the latter’s confession out of pity, or maybe it was due to partial jealousy.. No. It couldn’t have been jealousy. That was stupid, wasn’t it? If Doojoon wanted to keep going out with a multiplicity of girls, he could. What did Yoseob care? Doojoon barely knew he existed, anyway.
The bells on the door clanged together as the glass barrier was pushed open. Yoseob glanced up from his active fingers . . . and froze. It was Doojoon, with Jihyun. Jihyun was a totally beautiful, smart, and sweet girl, but Yoseob still had to struggle to stifle the feeling of hatred that bubbled to the surface of his heart.
“Hey, Yoseob.” Doojoon smiled at the younger boy warmly. Yoseob felt his heart flutter- oh my fucking god, what the hell was happening to him? Doojoon knew his name, though the cynical part of Yoseob reasoned that it was only because of his name tag. The elder boy turned back to his date. “What would you like, Jihyun-ah?”
“Oh, I’m really craving samgyetang. Buy it for me, Doojoon-ssi?”
“Of course.” Doojoon looked at Yoseob expectantly, and then swung his gaze back to his girlfriend. The blond boy spun around, heading into the kitchen.
Admittedly, working for his parents had its perks. He got paid, even when he didn’t do much work, and he technically was at home. But then again, since the store was on campus, he had to deal with seeing his friends and foes, respectively, every single day.
Yoseob sighed wistfully, impaling the flimsy sheet of paper on the order spindle. If he had one wish, it would be for Doojoon to . . . love him . . .
* * *A faint smile ghosted over Yoseob’s child-like features, the familiar scent of aftershave, wax, and sweat wafting into his nostrils. The boy smiled, intently watching the only other person in the studio. The latter seemed to move with an unearthly gracefulness, his scrawny and pointed limbs sharply contrasting the fluidity of his maneuvers. Then the music came to an abrupt halt, and the dancer whirled around to face Yoseob. Carrot locks slightly displaced, his doe eyes became filled with happiness, and Hyunseung almost sprinted, trying to reach the brunette as quickly as possible.
“Seung!”
“Seobie! You’re here!” The elder wrapped his arms around Yoseob’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder. Hyunseung soon pulled away, almost rabid with excitement. He did a quick once-over of his friend, then nodded in satisfaction. “You look great, and in excellent condition to do some dancing with me.”
Yoseob chuckled, unfazed by his hyung’s demand. He moved to the iPod dock stationed in a corner of the pristine room. Scrolling through the various songs, he chose “Written in the Stars,” by Tiny Tempah, featuring Eric Turner. It was one of the few western songs he had ever listened to.
After a going through a few routines from back when they were in high school, which included popping, locking, and b-boying, the two friends smiled at each other and sat down on the cold hardwood floor.
“So, Seungie. What have you been up to these days?”
“Ah. There lies the eternal question. Actually, nothing much. Junnie’s being a jerk. He works fourteen hours a day, and sleeps for eight more. Plus, whenever he gets home, he’s too tired to actually do anything with me.” Hyunseung sighed, clearly frustrated and sex-deprived. “‘Seung, make me kimbap! Seung, make me bulgogi! Seung, don’t touch that, it’s for work! Seung, don’t bother me, I’m not in the mood!’” The elder man tried to imitate his boyfriend’s voice. He failed. “That’s all I fucking hear from him! Mixed in with the occasional, but quite rare ‘Seung, I love you.’ Do you know how much it’s been pissing me off?!” The boy’s eyes had turned wild, but were quickly controlled.
“Okay, Seungie. What about . . . the others?”
“Oh. Of course. Hongki’s fine. He and Jonghun are going great, apparently. In fact, I heard through the grapevine that Jong is planning to propose soon. Isn’t that great?!” Hyunseung exclaimed, grinning broadly. “Oh, and there’s Hyunah. She’s really doing well; she opened her own dance school, and it’s been thriving. Like seriously. There’s a waiting list. And she and Joon recently moved in together. Life is totally blissful for them. But. . .” he trailed off. “But Doojoon. . .” Yoseob tensed and Hyunseung noticed, but chose to ignore it. “Doojoon is . . . kind of . . . messed up . . . I guess. You know, he’s always at the office or out at some club fucking some girl,” Yoseob winced, as if this statement caused him physical pain, “and . . . yeah . . . Seob, Doojoon’s been pretty crappy since you left him.”
The younger sighed. Hyunseung had never seemed to understand why Yoseob had severed ties with Doojoon. And it had been a year. Which should be enough time to get over someone else’s break-up. “But you love him,” he had insisted over and over at that time. However, when Yoseob had told him to drop it, he had complied wordlessly with a cute, Hyunseung-like pout.
“I’m not going back, though. Never. I’m never going back to him.”
“Did I tell you to? I’m not forcing you to do anything, Yoseob. I’m just giving you the facts.”
“Well . . . the facts suck.”
“Okay. Gosh.”
The two boys settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the squeaking of Hyunseung’s purple sneakers.
* * *Doojoon’s eyebrow was raised. He gazed at Junhyung, slightly creeped out.
“Does this look okay?” the younger man was asking, tugging at his styled hair.
“Why would you ever go out wearing that thing?”
“Because I love him, Doojoon-ah.” Junhyung sounded desperate, eager for Doojoon to finally understand the direction of his heart. At the latter’s blank look, the younger sighed.
“If you wanted to cheer Yoseob up . . . you know, when you were still together . . .” -Junhyung was often very blunt, and had gotten over Doojoon’s broken relationship quickly- “would you dress as . . . I don’t know, Dooly?”
“I . . . yes . . .” Doojoon gave a defeated sigh. “Okay. Just . . . can you keep your distance from me? It’s really embarrassing.”
Junhyung was clad in a penguin costume, which was, to put it mildly, annoyingly obvious. Doojoon knew that his best friend and Hyunseung had been on the edge of a break-up lately, so he didn’t entirely hate Junhyung for dragging him along.
However, deep inside his heart, pain slashed at him incessantly. Seeing Junhyung so blinded by love struck a chord that resonated immensly.
Shit . . . this is exactly what Yoseob and I used to be like . . .
* * *Doojoon laughed heartily as he followed behind Junhyung. It was actually surprising that the two men were best friends; their personalities clashed completely and their desire to succeed fueled their competitive spirits.
“Why are you doing this again?” the elder asked, trying to create yet another opportunity to mock his friend.
With a roll of his brown eyes, Junhyung didn’t bother to answer. He knew Doojoon too well, knew that ever since his relationship with Yoseob had ended, Doojoon had begun to ridicule other couples around him. Junhyung had loads of first-hand experience to support this fact.
As they reached the building, Doojoon smiled. He loved this place. Even though he wasn’t such a prodigious dancer, the studio was a sanctuary from the real world. The man remembered him and Junhyung and Hyunseung and . . . Yoseob . . . coming here, just laying on the floor, talking and eating Choco Pies until they were sick. Doojoon remembered . . .
A sudden agony shot through his heart. It was so painful, he felt like he was going to shatter, like he would break apart into a million pieces. Like he would, like he could, never exist anymore.
Extinguishing the hurt was tiring. But somehow, Doojoon managed to achieve it. He knew that this blockade was only temporary, though. He knew that it could only hold for so long.
You now that you can be living like this for only so long . . .
The thought sprang to the front of his mind, trapping it, so that all he could ponder over were his memories and his regrets.
Ah, fuck.
Finally, they came to room six. The wooden door was a formidable barrier, and it definitely took a lot of courage for Junhyung to push it open. He stepped through almost timidly, Doojoon trailing behind him.
“Uh . . . sorry to bother you, but . . . Hyunseung-ah?” Junhyung’s voice was almost a whisper, yet it echoed throughout the space. Doojoon kept his gaze on his feet, feeling like he was intruding. This was the most privacy he could give them, though, without having to leave.
“Junhyung . . .” Even without looking at the orange-haired man’s face, Doojoon could tell that he was on the verge of tears. His voice was rough and scratchy, and there were repeated sniffles coming from that general direction. Hyunseung was never one for ignoring the people he loved. It was like Hyunseung needed his friends and his boyfriend around, like if it wasn’t so, he couldn’t go on with life.
And then Doojoon heard it, heard . . . him . . . and it almost drove him into the abyss of insanity. It made him want to shout in joy, punch something in frustration, cry in sadness.
“D-Doojoon.”
His head snapped up, and his eyes drank everything in with a hurried fervor. The once blond hair now gone brown, the short stature, skinny waist, chubby cheeks, twinkling eyes.
Doojoon’s voice was hushed when he finally spoke. “Yoseob.”
(A/N: I'll give the first three people to comment a spot in the next post of this fic.)