A Storyteller's (Mis)Fortune - Part 1/3 [Junsu/Eunhyuk, PG-13]
Title: A Storyteller's (Mis)Fortune
Pairing: Junsu/Eunhyuk(Hyukjae)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU/Angst/Romance
Length: 3-Shot
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, their respective managements do. Plot is mine.
Summary: A young successor and a labor worker. Two men who meet by chance and build a friendship on fairy-tales; one listening and the other telling. Then, they take the risk of creating and living a story of their own-- together.
Warning: UN-BETA'D; THERE ARE tons of ERRORS THAT I AM TOO LAZY TO FIX. ;A;
On a warm and windy night, when the world was fast asleep, he playfully asked, “Yah, Kim Junsu, do you know how far the distance is between you and me?”
In response, Junsu tilted his chin to the side and looked at him, his eyes speaking wonders and nothing all at once. A single hand reaches across the empty space between them, the fickle sands being moved by the harsh night wind. “An arms length.” Junsu said simply.
Hyukjae laughed, shrinking away before Junsu could lay a finger on him. “You’re too naive.”
That is what Junsu hears from Hyukjae’s feeble lips, but what he sees tells him a thousand stories beyond his words.
They haven’t known each other long, but long enough to know that there’s more going on than what’s on the surface.
Hyukjae speaks, a mile a minute sometimes, and Junsu finds himself lost in the other boy’s stories, his tales, the worlds he creates with the twist of his tongue.
In a world where nothing but superiority matters, both young men find comfort in the art of being together and being simple-- being themselves without having to fight for who’s the alpha and who’s the omega, who’s the greater and who’s the weaker.
“Being naive is a gift.” Junsu retorts. “Don’t try to be more than you are.”
Hyukjae turns away, chuckling, and stares ahead at the open sea. The problem is, Hyukjae thinks, he never has tried to be more than he is. And he possibly never will.
-
“You’re sweating.”
Hyukjae grunts, too tired to wipe away the sweat that has soaked his fringes, slick against his forehead to his chin. “I’m fine.”
The trainers perk their ears, their eyes scanning over the arena. Junsu frowns. “Leave with me. You don’t have to go through this.”
“Go home, Junsu.”
Junsu bites down on his lip, reaching out to--
“Sir, you aren’t allowed to touch him.” A representative steps up, lowering Junsu’s hand. “You should return to your office, Sir, before your father finds out about your venture.”
“I’m taking him with me.”
The representative takes a deep breath. “But Sir--”
Junsu hardens his glare, clenching his jaw tightly. “I said I’m taking him with me.”
“If you take me, you’ll have to take my brothers, too.”
“Hyukjae--”
Hyukjae mirrors Junsu’s expression, brushing the sweat stains from his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Everyone here is family. If they stay to work, I work with them. I’m not leaving, Junsu; not without them. Who knows if I’ll ever be able to see them again?”
Beside him, a familiar young boy nudges Hyukjae with the front of his foot in protest.
Irritated, Hyukjae kicks him back. They all know it’s true. “That’s final.”
“Forever the righteous one, I see.” The representative scoffs arrogantly.
“And you will remember that.” Junsu demands him. “No one touches him, of any of them, for that matter. If even a single thread of hair of theirs is missing by the time I’m back, don’t expect any less of yourselves by daybreak.”
Everyone stays silent, too afraid to utter a sound.
Junsu then turns to Hyukjae, sadness in his eyes. “Fine.” He sighs. He reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing the dirt stains from Hyukjae’s face.
The entire field of men stare at them; suspicion, disgust, remorse-- all emotions possible written in their eyes, as plain as day.
“Don’t come back, Junsu.” Hyukjae says.
But the boy only smiles weakly, a helpless expression surfacing from his smile. “We’re friends, right? Friends help each other.”
“I don’t--”
Junsu is on the brink of begging. He wants to do this; he wants to do something meaningful for Hyukjae so bad, just once. “Let me help you, Hyukjae. This-- it might be the only thing I can do for you, the only thing.”
Unable to reject him, Hyukjae turns away and continues his work.
With his success, Junsu nods at all the workers present before walking off, away from the field.
“Remember my words, Representative. Mark them, engrave them into your heart.” Junsu warns. “Don’t take my words lightly; it’s in your best interest.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Junsu raises his chin higher, his eyes slightly belittling the plder man beside him. “Call the Board. I want all directors to be called to the Conference Room immediately.”
“Sir--”
Stopping in his steps, Junsu raises a single brow at the man. “My father chose me, of all our kin, to succeed his enterprise for a reason, Representative. I do what it takes to get what I want, everyone knows that. You do, too, don’t you?”
“O-of course, Sir.” The representative stutters, nodding his head. “I’ll have them meet with you at once.”
“Good.” Junsu says, continuing on his path. “Representative, have you a matured son seeking a job?”
“I do, Sir.”
“Is he anything like you?”
The representative shakes his head timidly. “Not at all, Sir.”
“That’s good. Bring him to my office. I’m sure I could make use of him.”
Confusion is apparent as the representative nods obediently, bowing. “Yes, Sir."
“You won’t need to worry about supporting yourself and your family anymore, Representative. My father and I are very grateful for all your years of dedication to our enterprise, but it seems as though you’re at a good age to retire. We’ll definitely ensure that you receive all the benefits we have to offer you.”
“Sir--”
Junsu smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve worked hard, Representative. It was great working with you. I look forward to meeting your son soon.”
Without another word, Junsu waves an accommodating hand at his helpers. The men immediately stop and see the representative back to his office, assisting him in packing his belongings.
That evening, the rest of the company’s employees watch as the representative leaves the enterprise without so much as another sound. No one knows the true reason he’s leaving-- no one really cares.
Representative Yoo asked him, “Why didn’t you contact Chairman Kim? I’m sure he would have helped you keep your position, Han.”
Representative Han shook his head with a low laugh. “He would have done no such thing, Yoo. We’ve worked here for over twenty years; you should know as well as I do that Chairman Kim has absolute belief in Kim Junsu’s abilities. He’s never interfered with any of that boy’s decisions-- not even when he wanted to rebuild the entire #515 division.”
“But the #515 division could only last so long without an upgrade.” Representative Yoo argued.
A moment later, Representative Han collected his thoughts and stopped to look Representative Yoo in the eyes. “When #515 fell years ago, Chairman Kim brought it back up without so much as a change of dust on the building. The division was planned and designed by his first wife, Yoo.”
“But she--”
“She was not Kim Junsu’s mother.”
And that was all it took for Representative Yoo to understand.
Division #515 served a simple purpose: to satisfy the business desire of the Chairman’s first wife.
Its main project was to advertise and sell perfume that she created. She loved fragrance, that wife of his; so much so that there was not a single day any man would walk down that sole road without returning home reeking of the scent of flowers and juices.
Junsu once hated her; he hated her for giving up on his father, for running away and never coming back, because that was the reason his mother was chosen-- chosen to be the next wife, chosen to bear him, his father’s next child.
The first wife had given Chairman Kim three children; two girls and a boy. Both girls were obedient and proper, and the boy was respectful and well mannered. Because of the way their mother raised them, before she left, they were so kind and lenient that they were ultimately incapable to holding up the responsibility of managing the enterprise.
Neither did they want to.
Thus, Junsu was raised under the sole purpose of succeeding and expanding the family business.
He understood how it felt to be watched, to be beat, to be trained and forced to study so much that his entire childhood was filled with nothing but letters and numbers, pacts and contracts, facing men as cruel and vicious as lions and tigers.
Over time, his heart formed into steel-- hard, cold; no longer hoping for anything outside of his control but using everything he could in his power to protect what he had.
Still he yearned for the things he’s always had to push away; family, friendship and, perhaps, love. It’s a far fetched dream, but he happily indulged in it-- in those wrinkly smiling eyes, the curled lips, the tall nose, the soft hair and those gentle, coarse hands.
It was a fantasy outside of his reality, but he lived it. Just like he lived life, to its fullest.
-
The first time they met, Hyukjae thought he’d never seen anyone as stubbornly beautiful as Junsu.
“Is this an accomplice? Are you guys trying to form a protest?!”
It was only Junsu’s fourth visit to the company, but it’s not the first time he’s heard the trainers speak this way to their laborers. He takes the corner to the back of the office and walks through the double doors that lead to the field.
“It was an accident, Sir.”
A young boy is kneeling on the ground beside a slightly older one; both are simply skin covered bones, with not so much as an ounce of fat on their lanky bodies.
The older boy clenches his jaw tightly as he watches the younger child plead the trainer. “Please don’t punish him, Sir! He truly didn’t mean to hit you!”
“Garbage! You low-lifes know nothing of respect; all you do is slug your way through your work, slacking and laying around!” As he speaks, he lifts a whip looking weapon into the air. “If I don’t teach you a les--”
“Stop.”
The child is crying, his tears so clear that the dry skin of his face almost immediately soaks it in for nourishment. “Sir! Please! Hyukjae hyung didn’t mean to throw weeds at him! It was just an accident!”
Junsu held no expression but he nodded, waving his hand as a gesture for the child to calm down. “What’s the issue?”
As soon as the trainer recognized Junsu, who looked to be no older than seventeen years old, he bowed and reported the incident, adding a few of his own juicy details here and there.
“That’s not it!” The child shakes his head fervently. “He was punishing me for working too slow, but I was trying my hardest! Really, I was! Hyukjae hyung slipped and lunged forward, the weeds he held in his hands landed on this man’s back, but it wasn’t intentional! Hyukjae hyung would never--”
“That’s enough.” Junsu interrupted him. He turned to the trainer. “It’s not wrong of you to want to encourage the laborers to work harder, but they are just children. I think you’ve done enough punishing for the day. Why don’t you take a break? The sun must be getting to your head.”
“Sir, I assure you that’s not the issue--”
Junsu raises an irritated brow. “I asked you to take a short break, good gentleman. I suggest you don’t make me change my mind. If I happen to like you enough, I may just make your break a permanent one.”
The trainer takes a loud breath but nods, obviously upset by being lectured by a young man. “Yes, Sir.”
After the trainer leaves, Junsu motions for his helper to put another trainer on duty. When his helper steps aside to make the phone call, Junsu walks to the two young boy’s side. “Are you two alright? If you have any injuries, you can request for medical service under our company’s name. We’ll take care of the bill for you.”
“N-no, Sir. We’re fine!” The child replies.
Junsu furrows his brows, unconvinced by the child’s poor state. The other boy, though, worries him more. “Those wounds-- were they made by that man just now?”
The boy looks away from his own blood stained clothes, the gashes and rope burns on his arms, and does not reply.
“They might get infected. I suggest you see the doctor, before they get worse.”
Still, the boy does not respond.
“Your name is Hyukjae, isn’t it? Come with me, I’ll have someone take you--”
“I’m fine.” Hyukjae finally says. “I’m fine, really, Sir. You don’t need to worry. I’ll have it taken care of myself, I don’t need your help.”
Junsu is not convinced. “You have a doctor in your family?”
Hyukjae hesitates a moment before shaking his head.
“A physician? Or even just a pharmacist?”
“No, none. My parents are both laborers.” Hyukjae replies.
Junsu crosses his arms over his chest. “Then you have no right to claim that you are able to cure yourself of your wounds. Just do as I say.”
Before Hyukjae can refuse him again, Junsu grabs him by the wrist and drags him along. His skin is hot; burned by the sun and dried by the heat. It’s a horrible feeling, in comparison to the soft and silkiness of Junsu’s own hand, but it isn’t repulsive.
It isn’t bad.
“Why were you hit?” Junsu asks. He signals for his helper to escort the other boy to the doctors, as well.
Hyukjae doesn’t say a word.
“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again. I won’t let him touch either of you.” Junsu tells him. “My name is Junsu, I’ll be the Chairman of this company one day. You can trust me.”
Ironically, Hyukjae thinks that is all the more of a reason for him not to trust the boy.
“Was it because of the weed incident?” Junsu asks. “Such a fickle mind that man has if that’s truly the reason.”
“No.” Hyukjae corrects him. “None of these whips were intended for me. They belong to the boy who was with me. After I hit that man, he tried to anger me by torturing Ryeowook more violently, but I couldn’t let Ryeowook take those hits because of me.”
Junsu smiled but it was hidden from Hyukjae, who strode in rhythm with Junsu just a step behind him. His fingers were still wrapped around Hyukjae’s wrist. “So you did hit him on purpose.”
“Wrong.” Hyukjae shook his head. “It really was an accident, I meant it when I said that. Why would I be dumb enough to interfere? It has only ever made the abuse worse. I learned that the hard way.”
“I see.” Junsu lowers his head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Hyukjae bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m really okay. I don’t need to see a doctor.”
“Do we really have to do this all over again?” Junsu laughs. “It’s the least I can do for you and your friend.”
“But I--”
“What? Are you afraid of doctors?” Junsu teases.
Hyukjae doesn’t say anything, and it brings a grin to Junsu’s face. “So that’s the problem. It’s alright, Hyukjae, it won’t hurt. Trust me.”
“How do you know?” Hyukjae asks, pouting.
Junsu’s smile weakens, slowing down his pace as they reach the pick-up at the front of the building. He turns to Hyukjae, sadness in his eyes. “Because no pain that only lasts for a single moment can hurt more than what you’ve all been through all your life, no?”
There is nothing for Hyukjae to say, because it’s so true but so far from the truth at the same time that he can’t decide whether or not what Junsu had said was correct.
In the silence, they stand side by side, hands no longer linked to wrists. Two still bodies, waiting for a car to come and take them away-- to a doctor, to his relievers, to their escape from the shackles of the enterprise.
Maybe you could say they were also waiting for a chance.
A chance for them to hold onto each other-- to blindly fall in love.
-
“Another lunchbox.” Ryeowook smirks.
Hyukjae frowns, taking the box from his locker and shoving Ryeowook out of the locker room. “Everyone has one.”
“But only yours comes in that packaging, with a letter.” Ryeowook grins. “He likes you, doesn’t he? I saw it in his eyes ever since we left the hospital that day; he’s interested in you. What did you talk to him about?”
“We’re friends. I told him some stories, like I do with everyone.” Hyukjae replies. “That’s it.”
Ryeowook chuckles, sitting down when they reach the usual shade under a tree. “For now, maybe. Who knows about the future?”
“Ryeowook, your words will get us in trouble, you know?” Hyukjae laughs. “Why don’t I tell you a story? Then you won’t have to speak.”
Excited, Ryeowook nods and opens his lunch box, happily obliging.
No matter who it is, when Hyukjae begins telling his stories, they will become so entranced by them that it seems as though they’re living the tales themselves. He tells tales about poor laborers, wealthy men, sorcerers and sorceresses, witches and goblins, gods and goddesses.
These are all stories passed down to him from other people; more often his parents, sometimes his co-workers, sometimes random people that happen to sit beside him in the city laundromat or a cheap cafe.
Sometimes they’re about friendship, sometimes about kinship, sometimes about love, and sometimes about nothing at all.
Despite the rarity of their truth, people hold onto these stories and continue listening-- they continue absorbing the fantasies and processing them as a reality they could desire, a dream they could sleep with at night.
In his letter responses to Junsu, he also tells stories.
He’s told him the story of Oedipus, he’s also told him the story of The Iliad. He’s taught Junsu about greek gods; of Orpheus and Eurydice, of Echo and Narcissus. Many, many tales he’s told and every time Junsu replies with wonder and fascination.
Junsu asks for more and there’s always more for Hyukjae to tell.
Their friendship was built on stories-- fantasies, a world that is not real.
That is, perhaps, why their bond became so strong.
-----
[Part Two]
-----
Cross-posted @ hyuk_su
-----
A/N: This is already completed. Will be posted in its entirety over the next two days.
Pairing: Junsu/Eunhyuk(Hyukjae)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU/Angst/Romance
Length: 3-Shot
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, their respective managements do. Plot is mine.
Summary: A young successor and a labor worker. Two men who meet by chance and build a friendship on fairy-tales; one listening and the other telling. Then, they take the risk of creating and living a story of their own-- together.
Warning: UN-BETA'D; THERE ARE tons of ERRORS THAT I AM TOO LAZY TO FIX. ;A;
On a warm and windy night, when the world was fast asleep, he playfully asked, “Yah, Kim Junsu, do you know how far the distance is between you and me?”
In response, Junsu tilted his chin to the side and looked at him, his eyes speaking wonders and nothing all at once. A single hand reaches across the empty space between them, the fickle sands being moved by the harsh night wind. “An arms length.” Junsu said simply.
Hyukjae laughed, shrinking away before Junsu could lay a finger on him. “You’re too naive.”
That is what Junsu hears from Hyukjae’s feeble lips, but what he sees tells him a thousand stories beyond his words.
They haven’t known each other long, but long enough to know that there’s more going on than what’s on the surface.
Hyukjae speaks, a mile a minute sometimes, and Junsu finds himself lost in the other boy’s stories, his tales, the worlds he creates with the twist of his tongue.
In a world where nothing but superiority matters, both young men find comfort in the art of being together and being simple-- being themselves without having to fight for who’s the alpha and who’s the omega, who’s the greater and who’s the weaker.
“Being naive is a gift.” Junsu retorts. “Don’t try to be more than you are.”
Hyukjae turns away, chuckling, and stares ahead at the open sea. The problem is, Hyukjae thinks, he never has tried to be more than he is. And he possibly never will.
-
“You’re sweating.”
Hyukjae grunts, too tired to wipe away the sweat that has soaked his fringes, slick against his forehead to his chin. “I’m fine.”
The trainers perk their ears, their eyes scanning over the arena. Junsu frowns. “Leave with me. You don’t have to go through this.”
“Go home, Junsu.”
Junsu bites down on his lip, reaching out to--
“Sir, you aren’t allowed to touch him.” A representative steps up, lowering Junsu’s hand. “You should return to your office, Sir, before your father finds out about your venture.”
“I’m taking him with me.”
The representative takes a deep breath. “But Sir--”
Junsu hardens his glare, clenching his jaw tightly. “I said I’m taking him with me.”
“If you take me, you’ll have to take my brothers, too.”
“Hyukjae--”
Hyukjae mirrors Junsu’s expression, brushing the sweat stains from his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Everyone here is family. If they stay to work, I work with them. I’m not leaving, Junsu; not without them. Who knows if I’ll ever be able to see them again?”
Beside him, a familiar young boy nudges Hyukjae with the front of his foot in protest.
Irritated, Hyukjae kicks him back. They all know it’s true. “That’s final.”
“Forever the righteous one, I see.” The representative scoffs arrogantly.
“And you will remember that.” Junsu demands him. “No one touches him, of any of them, for that matter. If even a single thread of hair of theirs is missing by the time I’m back, don’t expect any less of yourselves by daybreak.”
Everyone stays silent, too afraid to utter a sound.
Junsu then turns to Hyukjae, sadness in his eyes. “Fine.” He sighs. He reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing the dirt stains from Hyukjae’s face.
The entire field of men stare at them; suspicion, disgust, remorse-- all emotions possible written in their eyes, as plain as day.
“Don’t come back, Junsu.” Hyukjae says.
But the boy only smiles weakly, a helpless expression surfacing from his smile. “We’re friends, right? Friends help each other.”
“I don’t--”
Junsu is on the brink of begging. He wants to do this; he wants to do something meaningful for Hyukjae so bad, just once. “Let me help you, Hyukjae. This-- it might be the only thing I can do for you, the only thing.”
Unable to reject him, Hyukjae turns away and continues his work.
With his success, Junsu nods at all the workers present before walking off, away from the field.
“Remember my words, Representative. Mark them, engrave them into your heart.” Junsu warns. “Don’t take my words lightly; it’s in your best interest.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Junsu raises his chin higher, his eyes slightly belittling the plder man beside him. “Call the Board. I want all directors to be called to the Conference Room immediately.”
“Sir--”
Stopping in his steps, Junsu raises a single brow at the man. “My father chose me, of all our kin, to succeed his enterprise for a reason, Representative. I do what it takes to get what I want, everyone knows that. You do, too, don’t you?”
“O-of course, Sir.” The representative stutters, nodding his head. “I’ll have them meet with you at once.”
“Good.” Junsu says, continuing on his path. “Representative, have you a matured son seeking a job?”
“I do, Sir.”
“Is he anything like you?”
The representative shakes his head timidly. “Not at all, Sir.”
“That’s good. Bring him to my office. I’m sure I could make use of him.”
Confusion is apparent as the representative nods obediently, bowing. “Yes, Sir."
“You won’t need to worry about supporting yourself and your family anymore, Representative. My father and I are very grateful for all your years of dedication to our enterprise, but it seems as though you’re at a good age to retire. We’ll definitely ensure that you receive all the benefits we have to offer you.”
“Sir--”
Junsu smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve worked hard, Representative. It was great working with you. I look forward to meeting your son soon.”
Without another word, Junsu waves an accommodating hand at his helpers. The men immediately stop and see the representative back to his office, assisting him in packing his belongings.
That evening, the rest of the company’s employees watch as the representative leaves the enterprise without so much as another sound. No one knows the true reason he’s leaving-- no one really cares.
Representative Yoo asked him, “Why didn’t you contact Chairman Kim? I’m sure he would have helped you keep your position, Han.”
Representative Han shook his head with a low laugh. “He would have done no such thing, Yoo. We’ve worked here for over twenty years; you should know as well as I do that Chairman Kim has absolute belief in Kim Junsu’s abilities. He’s never interfered with any of that boy’s decisions-- not even when he wanted to rebuild the entire #515 division.”
“But the #515 division could only last so long without an upgrade.” Representative Yoo argued.
A moment later, Representative Han collected his thoughts and stopped to look Representative Yoo in the eyes. “When #515 fell years ago, Chairman Kim brought it back up without so much as a change of dust on the building. The division was planned and designed by his first wife, Yoo.”
“But she--”
“She was not Kim Junsu’s mother.”
And that was all it took for Representative Yoo to understand.
Division #515 served a simple purpose: to satisfy the business desire of the Chairman’s first wife.
Its main project was to advertise and sell perfume that she created. She loved fragrance, that wife of his; so much so that there was not a single day any man would walk down that sole road without returning home reeking of the scent of flowers and juices.
Junsu once hated her; he hated her for giving up on his father, for running away and never coming back, because that was the reason his mother was chosen-- chosen to be the next wife, chosen to bear him, his father’s next child.
The first wife had given Chairman Kim three children; two girls and a boy. Both girls were obedient and proper, and the boy was respectful and well mannered. Because of the way their mother raised them, before she left, they were so kind and lenient that they were ultimately incapable to holding up the responsibility of managing the enterprise.
Neither did they want to.
Thus, Junsu was raised under the sole purpose of succeeding and expanding the family business.
He understood how it felt to be watched, to be beat, to be trained and forced to study so much that his entire childhood was filled with nothing but letters and numbers, pacts and contracts, facing men as cruel and vicious as lions and tigers.
Over time, his heart formed into steel-- hard, cold; no longer hoping for anything outside of his control but using everything he could in his power to protect what he had.
Still he yearned for the things he’s always had to push away; family, friendship and, perhaps, love. It’s a far fetched dream, but he happily indulged in it-- in those wrinkly smiling eyes, the curled lips, the tall nose, the soft hair and those gentle, coarse hands.
It was a fantasy outside of his reality, but he lived it. Just like he lived life, to its fullest.
-
The first time they met, Hyukjae thought he’d never seen anyone as stubbornly beautiful as Junsu.
“Is this an accomplice? Are you guys trying to form a protest?!”
It was only Junsu’s fourth visit to the company, but it’s not the first time he’s heard the trainers speak this way to their laborers. He takes the corner to the back of the office and walks through the double doors that lead to the field.
“It was an accident, Sir.”
A young boy is kneeling on the ground beside a slightly older one; both are simply skin covered bones, with not so much as an ounce of fat on their lanky bodies.
The older boy clenches his jaw tightly as he watches the younger child plead the trainer. “Please don’t punish him, Sir! He truly didn’t mean to hit you!”
“Garbage! You low-lifes know nothing of respect; all you do is slug your way through your work, slacking and laying around!” As he speaks, he lifts a whip looking weapon into the air. “If I don’t teach you a les--”
“Stop.”
The child is crying, his tears so clear that the dry skin of his face almost immediately soaks it in for nourishment. “Sir! Please! Hyukjae hyung didn’t mean to throw weeds at him! It was just an accident!”
Junsu held no expression but he nodded, waving his hand as a gesture for the child to calm down. “What’s the issue?”
As soon as the trainer recognized Junsu, who looked to be no older than seventeen years old, he bowed and reported the incident, adding a few of his own juicy details here and there.
“That’s not it!” The child shakes his head fervently. “He was punishing me for working too slow, but I was trying my hardest! Really, I was! Hyukjae hyung slipped and lunged forward, the weeds he held in his hands landed on this man’s back, but it wasn’t intentional! Hyukjae hyung would never--”
“That’s enough.” Junsu interrupted him. He turned to the trainer. “It’s not wrong of you to want to encourage the laborers to work harder, but they are just children. I think you’ve done enough punishing for the day. Why don’t you take a break? The sun must be getting to your head.”
“Sir, I assure you that’s not the issue--”
Junsu raises an irritated brow. “I asked you to take a short break, good gentleman. I suggest you don’t make me change my mind. If I happen to like you enough, I may just make your break a permanent one.”
The trainer takes a loud breath but nods, obviously upset by being lectured by a young man. “Yes, Sir.”
After the trainer leaves, Junsu motions for his helper to put another trainer on duty. When his helper steps aside to make the phone call, Junsu walks to the two young boy’s side. “Are you two alright? If you have any injuries, you can request for medical service under our company’s name. We’ll take care of the bill for you.”
“N-no, Sir. We’re fine!” The child replies.
Junsu furrows his brows, unconvinced by the child’s poor state. The other boy, though, worries him more. “Those wounds-- were they made by that man just now?”
The boy looks away from his own blood stained clothes, the gashes and rope burns on his arms, and does not reply.
“They might get infected. I suggest you see the doctor, before they get worse.”
Still, the boy does not respond.
“Your name is Hyukjae, isn’t it? Come with me, I’ll have someone take you--”
“I’m fine.” Hyukjae finally says. “I’m fine, really, Sir. You don’t need to worry. I’ll have it taken care of myself, I don’t need your help.”
Junsu is not convinced. “You have a doctor in your family?”
Hyukjae hesitates a moment before shaking his head.
“A physician? Or even just a pharmacist?”
“No, none. My parents are both laborers.” Hyukjae replies.
Junsu crosses his arms over his chest. “Then you have no right to claim that you are able to cure yourself of your wounds. Just do as I say.”
Before Hyukjae can refuse him again, Junsu grabs him by the wrist and drags him along. His skin is hot; burned by the sun and dried by the heat. It’s a horrible feeling, in comparison to the soft and silkiness of Junsu’s own hand, but it isn’t repulsive.
It isn’t bad.
“Why were you hit?” Junsu asks. He signals for his helper to escort the other boy to the doctors, as well.
Hyukjae doesn’t say a word.
“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again. I won’t let him touch either of you.” Junsu tells him. “My name is Junsu, I’ll be the Chairman of this company one day. You can trust me.”
Ironically, Hyukjae thinks that is all the more of a reason for him not to trust the boy.
“Was it because of the weed incident?” Junsu asks. “Such a fickle mind that man has if that’s truly the reason.”
“No.” Hyukjae corrects him. “None of these whips were intended for me. They belong to the boy who was with me. After I hit that man, he tried to anger me by torturing Ryeowook more violently, but I couldn’t let Ryeowook take those hits because of me.”
Junsu smiled but it was hidden from Hyukjae, who strode in rhythm with Junsu just a step behind him. His fingers were still wrapped around Hyukjae’s wrist. “So you did hit him on purpose.”
“Wrong.” Hyukjae shook his head. “It really was an accident, I meant it when I said that. Why would I be dumb enough to interfere? It has only ever made the abuse worse. I learned that the hard way.”
“I see.” Junsu lowers his head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Hyukjae bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m really okay. I don’t need to see a doctor.”
“Do we really have to do this all over again?” Junsu laughs. “It’s the least I can do for you and your friend.”
“But I--”
“What? Are you afraid of doctors?” Junsu teases.
Hyukjae doesn’t say anything, and it brings a grin to Junsu’s face. “So that’s the problem. It’s alright, Hyukjae, it won’t hurt. Trust me.”
“How do you know?” Hyukjae asks, pouting.
Junsu’s smile weakens, slowing down his pace as they reach the pick-up at the front of the building. He turns to Hyukjae, sadness in his eyes. “Because no pain that only lasts for a single moment can hurt more than what you’ve all been through all your life, no?”
There is nothing for Hyukjae to say, because it’s so true but so far from the truth at the same time that he can’t decide whether or not what Junsu had said was correct.
In the silence, they stand side by side, hands no longer linked to wrists. Two still bodies, waiting for a car to come and take them away-- to a doctor, to his relievers, to their escape from the shackles of the enterprise.
Maybe you could say they were also waiting for a chance.
A chance for them to hold onto each other-- to blindly fall in love.
-
“Another lunchbox.” Ryeowook smirks.
Hyukjae frowns, taking the box from his locker and shoving Ryeowook out of the locker room. “Everyone has one.”
“But only yours comes in that packaging, with a letter.” Ryeowook grins. “He likes you, doesn’t he? I saw it in his eyes ever since we left the hospital that day; he’s interested in you. What did you talk to him about?”
“We’re friends. I told him some stories, like I do with everyone.” Hyukjae replies. “That’s it.”
Ryeowook chuckles, sitting down when they reach the usual shade under a tree. “For now, maybe. Who knows about the future?”
“Ryeowook, your words will get us in trouble, you know?” Hyukjae laughs. “Why don’t I tell you a story? Then you won’t have to speak.”
Excited, Ryeowook nods and opens his lunch box, happily obliging.
No matter who it is, when Hyukjae begins telling his stories, they will become so entranced by them that it seems as though they’re living the tales themselves. He tells tales about poor laborers, wealthy men, sorcerers and sorceresses, witches and goblins, gods and goddesses.
These are all stories passed down to him from other people; more often his parents, sometimes his co-workers, sometimes random people that happen to sit beside him in the city laundromat or a cheap cafe.
Sometimes they’re about friendship, sometimes about kinship, sometimes about love, and sometimes about nothing at all.
Despite the rarity of their truth, people hold onto these stories and continue listening-- they continue absorbing the fantasies and processing them as a reality they could desire, a dream they could sleep with at night.
In his letter responses to Junsu, he also tells stories.
He’s told him the story of Oedipus, he’s also told him the story of The Iliad. He’s taught Junsu about greek gods; of Orpheus and Eurydice, of Echo and Narcissus. Many, many tales he’s told and every time Junsu replies with wonder and fascination.
Junsu asks for more and there’s always more for Hyukjae to tell.
Their friendship was built on stories-- fantasies, a world that is not real.
That is, perhaps, why their bond became so strong.
-----
[Part Two]
-----
Cross-posted @ hyuk_su
-----
A/N: This is already completed. Will be posted in its entirety over the next two days.