Perks Of A Triple Life
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Yemin
Genre: AU!General, Romance
Disclaimer: Lien owns Nyx and Ciel, that's about it.
Summary: His priorities begin to make sense.
Prequel
Sungmin never thought he’d have a celebrity on his tail. And while some people ogle with praise and biased envy, he wanted nothing more than for the other to leave him be.
Unfortunately, the same celebrity also held his life in his hands.
“How’s that inhaler going for you?” Yesung asked, walking into his hospital room briskly, like a gust of wind followed behind him.
Sungmin gagged. “Horrible.”
“That’s great,” the other man smiled cheekily.
“Ugh,” Sungmin groaned, “can’t you just become a full time singer and bask in the fame and just quit your job as a doctor?”
Yesung smirked. “I considered it,” he replied, as if in deep thought, “but something changed that.”
Sungmin closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He didn’t want to know the answer.
-
Yesung stared at the apple in his hands. “This is?”
Sungmin stared at him a while longer, as if anticipating something to happen. When Yesung returned a puzzled look, still the same, Sungmin sighed in disappointment.
Whoever said apples kept the doctors away, should be hanged.
-
Yesung’s connections managed to bar Sungmin from obtaining prescriptions from other doctors, all who simply refused his request and urged him to speak to Yesung. He would always want to ask why they obeyed such incredulous demands, but then his eyes would trail to the autographed photos hanging proudly on their walls.
There was never a time in his life when he hated his chronic asthma more than he did now.
“Is the inhaler really that hard on you?” Yesung inquired, his expression sullen.
Sungmin took the liberty of pointedly shunning him, turning his face away. “I’ve been complaining about this for days- no, weeks now. Did you really think I was just trying to annoy you or something?”
Yesung frowned. “Yes?”
“Well, I wasn’t,” Sungmin furrowed his brows, lowering himself off the examination bed. “I don’t care how long it takes me, I will find another doctor. I’ve had enough.”
Yesung remained silent as Sungmin walked away.
With his hand on the doorknob, Sungmin pauses. He looks back and asks, “Not going to convince me to stay?”
Yesung grinned. “Disappointed that I’m not?”
Sungmin doesn’t bother replying, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.
-
“Leave me alone.” Sungmin doubted he could get any clearer than that.
“You were the one who dared ask me to change my priorities, and so I did.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean focus them on me.” Sungmin countered, exhausted.
Yesung puffed out a cheek. “But there’s nothing else in this world that could possibly be as amusing as you are,” he reasoned.
“Screw you,” Sungmin scowled.
“A thousand times over,” Yesung sneered.
Sungmin only managed a few more empty threats, it didn’t take long before he grudgingly returned to this doctor he so desperately wanted to rid himself of. His frustration only growing when the doctor gave that all-knowing look, as if he never doubted that his favorite patient would come back.
Just as Sungmin rolled himself over in the bed, to turn his back to Yesung, the doctor round himself about the bed and knelt beside the younger man. “How are the pills treating you?” He asked, with a new-found gentleness. He smoothed his palm over Sungmin’s forehead, tracing down to the vein in his throat, and felt the boy’s pulse under his fingers.
Sungmin chewed on his cheek as he shifts his gaze away. The dark, passionate look in Yesung’s eyes suffocated him. This close proximity was something he should have been used to; he never cared about it in the beginning, but it’s dawning on him now.
“Does that medicine work better?” Yesung proceeded to ask, “It takes less time for your lungs to breathe, right?”
Sungmin took a deep, clear breath. The action acted as an answer. Sungmin narrowed his eyes at the smug smile that traced the other’s lips.
The same smile that tugged at something in his chest, convulsing in his lungs.
One thing he knew for sure: it wasn’t his asthma.
-
“If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you almost anything.” Yesung said in the midst of their late night stroll. He stabs a clear straw into a carton of soybean milk.
“Anything?” Sungmin asks doubtfully.
“I said almost anything.” Yesung corrected.
Sungmin decides to pose a question that's been nagging at his mind for a while now. “You have no initiative for being a doctor, you don’t seem to care much about this occupation at all.”
Yesung feigns a double-take. “Am I being insulted or is there a question in there?”
“If you enjoy being a singer so much,” Sungmin asks hesitantly, “then why are you a doctor to begin with?”
Yesung ponders the question, tilting the carton playfully in his hand. “I don’t write my own lyrics, I can’t force skills I don’t have.” Yesung said. “To make up for it, I put in all the passion when I sing.”
Sungmin nodded mindlessly. “And being a doctor?”
“I don’t have the passion to be a doctor, but I have the skills to make up for that.”
The younger boy seems to be understanding, continuing to bob his head in apprehension.
“But I think that’s changed,” Yesung interjects, “my passion for being a doctor, I mean.”
“How?”
Yesung grins at him. “It’s obvious, I would think.”
Sungmin lowers his eyes to the ground shyly. “Now, you can ask me for... almost anything,” he said slowly.
Yesung exhaled, dropping the empty carton into the trash. “See, there’s a problem with that.”
Sungmin was pulled into a solid chest, fingers pressed against the back of his neck. A foreign, yet so familiar, warm breath melting against his lips.
“I don’t like asking.”
-
Yesung wore his white coat, his headphones contrasting against his appearance as he tapped the edge of his CD, its metal edges grazing across his desk. He felt his phone vibrate and reached for it, the corners of his lips moved upward at the name that appeared on his screen.
Yesung had a professional life as an established doctor.
He had a chosen life as a powerful singer.
Then there was his third and final life he created and built, and only for Sungmin would he dare do such a thing.
-
A/N(s):
Nyx: To think this all began because of a movie we watched @.@ In the midst of making fun of Under Siege 2 (We enjoyed it :) ) we came up with this plotline. Also, nvm, we wrote a sequel despite both our busy backlogs. Enjoy. :)
Lien: No, seriously, Under Siege 2 was an amazing(ly funny) movie. (There's no way in the world I could take that film seriously. Why did my dad make us watch it?) There will be no sequel to this sequel. :D (I say this now, but watch Nyx force me to do it anyways - like how she did with this one, just like how she's making me reply to comments ;A;)
Cross-posted at yehmin
Pairing: Yemin
Genre: AU!General, Romance
Disclaimer: Lien owns Nyx and Ciel, that's about it.
Summary: His priorities begin to make sense.
Prequel
Sungmin never thought he’d have a celebrity on his tail. And while some people ogle with praise and biased envy, he wanted nothing more than for the other to leave him be.
Unfortunately, the same celebrity also held his life in his hands.
“How’s that inhaler going for you?” Yesung asked, walking into his hospital room briskly, like a gust of wind followed behind him.
Sungmin gagged. “Horrible.”
“That’s great,” the other man smiled cheekily.
“Ugh,” Sungmin groaned, “can’t you just become a full time singer and bask in the fame and just quit your job as a doctor?”
Yesung smirked. “I considered it,” he replied, as if in deep thought, “but something changed that.”
Sungmin closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He didn’t want to know the answer.
-
Yesung stared at the apple in his hands. “This is?”
Sungmin stared at him a while longer, as if anticipating something to happen. When Yesung returned a puzzled look, still the same, Sungmin sighed in disappointment.
Whoever said apples kept the doctors away, should be hanged.
-
Yesung’s connections managed to bar Sungmin from obtaining prescriptions from other doctors, all who simply refused his request and urged him to speak to Yesung. He would always want to ask why they obeyed such incredulous demands, but then his eyes would trail to the autographed photos hanging proudly on their walls.
There was never a time in his life when he hated his chronic asthma more than he did now.
“Is the inhaler really that hard on you?” Yesung inquired, his expression sullen.
Sungmin took the liberty of pointedly shunning him, turning his face away. “I’ve been complaining about this for days- no, weeks now. Did you really think I was just trying to annoy you or something?”
Yesung frowned. “Yes?”
“Well, I wasn’t,” Sungmin furrowed his brows, lowering himself off the examination bed. “I don’t care how long it takes me, I will find another doctor. I’ve had enough.”
Yesung remained silent as Sungmin walked away.
With his hand on the doorknob, Sungmin pauses. He looks back and asks, “Not going to convince me to stay?”
Yesung grinned. “Disappointed that I’m not?”
Sungmin doesn’t bother replying, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.
-
“Leave me alone.” Sungmin doubted he could get any clearer than that.
“You were the one who dared ask me to change my priorities, and so I did.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean focus them on me.” Sungmin countered, exhausted.
Yesung puffed out a cheek. “But there’s nothing else in this world that could possibly be as amusing as you are,” he reasoned.
“Screw you,” Sungmin scowled.
“A thousand times over,” Yesung sneered.
Sungmin only managed a few more empty threats, it didn’t take long before he grudgingly returned to this doctor he so desperately wanted to rid himself of. His frustration only growing when the doctor gave that all-knowing look, as if he never doubted that his favorite patient would come back.
Just as Sungmin rolled himself over in the bed, to turn his back to Yesung, the doctor round himself about the bed and knelt beside the younger man. “How are the pills treating you?” He asked, with a new-found gentleness. He smoothed his palm over Sungmin’s forehead, tracing down to the vein in his throat, and felt the boy’s pulse under his fingers.
Sungmin chewed on his cheek as he shifts his gaze away. The dark, passionate look in Yesung’s eyes suffocated him. This close proximity was something he should have been used to; he never cared about it in the beginning, but it’s dawning on him now.
“Does that medicine work better?” Yesung proceeded to ask, “It takes less time for your lungs to breathe, right?”
Sungmin took a deep, clear breath. The action acted as an answer. Sungmin narrowed his eyes at the smug smile that traced the other’s lips.
The same smile that tugged at something in his chest, convulsing in his lungs.
One thing he knew for sure: it wasn’t his asthma.
-
“If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you almost anything.” Yesung said in the midst of their late night stroll. He stabs a clear straw into a carton of soybean milk.
“Anything?” Sungmin asks doubtfully.
“I said almost anything.” Yesung corrected.
Sungmin decides to pose a question that's been nagging at his mind for a while now. “You have no initiative for being a doctor, you don’t seem to care much about this occupation at all.”
Yesung feigns a double-take. “Am I being insulted or is there a question in there?”
“If you enjoy being a singer so much,” Sungmin asks hesitantly, “then why are you a doctor to begin with?”
Yesung ponders the question, tilting the carton playfully in his hand. “I don’t write my own lyrics, I can’t force skills I don’t have.” Yesung said. “To make up for it, I put in all the passion when I sing.”
Sungmin nodded mindlessly. “And being a doctor?”
“I don’t have the passion to be a doctor, but I have the skills to make up for that.”
The younger boy seems to be understanding, continuing to bob his head in apprehension.
“But I think that’s changed,” Yesung interjects, “my passion for being a doctor, I mean.”
“How?”
Yesung grins at him. “It’s obvious, I would think.”
Sungmin lowers his eyes to the ground shyly. “Now, you can ask me for... almost anything,” he said slowly.
Yesung exhaled, dropping the empty carton into the trash. “See, there’s a problem with that.”
Sungmin was pulled into a solid chest, fingers pressed against the back of his neck. A foreign, yet so familiar, warm breath melting against his lips.
“I don’t like asking.”
-
Yesung wore his white coat, his headphones contrasting against his appearance as he tapped the edge of his CD, its metal edges grazing across his desk. He felt his phone vibrate and reached for it, the corners of his lips moved upward at the name that appeared on his screen.
Yesung had a professional life as an established doctor.
He had a chosen life as a powerful singer.
Then there was his third and final life he created and built, and only for Sungmin would he dare do such a thing.
-
A/N(s):
Nyx: To think this all began because of a movie we watched @.@ In the midst of making fun of Under Siege 2 (We enjoyed it :) ) we came up with this plotline. Also, nvm, we wrote a sequel despite both our busy backlogs. Enjoy. :)
Lien: No, seriously, Under Siege 2 was an amazing(ly funny) movie. (There's no way in the world I could take that film seriously. Why did my dad make us watch it?) There will be no sequel to this sequel. :D (I say this now, but watch Nyx force me to do it anyways - like how she did with this one, just like how she's making me reply to comments ;A;)
Cross-posted at yehmin