jagged broken wings » oneshot.
Jagged Broken Wings.
Yunho/Jaejoong
AU, Romance, Small Angst.
wc. 5340.
minor references to self-harm.
Jaejoong doesn't cut the definition of the 'normal child'. Yunho is sure that he wouldn't have him any other way. He's out of his mind and he quotes Oscar Wilde, but he's an angel, fallen, but not broken beyond repair.
i.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock...
Silent classroom. Perfect classroom. Good children, good children...
The woman at the front of the classroom was grey-haired. Her features were deteriorating and it was obvious that she was nearly at the end of what could have almost been classed as 'middle-aged'. She wore a small wrinkled face, the biggest hint at the tale of her life, suggesting the amount of times she'd found it necessary to frown and the lacking of occasions where she had chosen to smile. She sported a dusty and sullen expression of hate and fatigue, the will to just pass on evident in her eyes as they ran across the students staring at her, waiting for her to begin her lesson.
And the school mirrored her, with it's torn wallpaper and crumbling bricks. Stacks of books littered the classroom, pencils taking their spots in every other space available and dust smothering just about everything, weighing down the air and dragging students souls with it. The school halls smelt of wood and dirt, and this room was no exception, each person taking turns to cough lightly at the horrible scent. And yet there was some kind of peaceful dullness that lay about the room. It allowed each of them to come to terms with the fact that they shared the fear of the school that held so many rumours of death and decay.
"Turn to page one hundred and ninety five," the lady ordered, her tone mild with a sticking authority - one that the class of forty pupils chose not to ignore. She was sinister.
Like clockwork, and in almost perfect silence, each youth flipped the pages of their respective book.
She began a drone - something related to the lifespan of a newt or some other kind of uninteresting mumble. And each and every one of them listened, moulding themselves to the dictatorship that the school had become run by. Each of them fitting into the specification of what they classed the normal child.
And yet, at the back of the classroom, whispering to himself as his slim fingers battled with each other, mirroring the patterns of his thoughts, was a diamond in the rough. The young boy who no one could figure out. He was different. He was unique. And no one knew how to solve him... and no one felt the need to even try.
He scratched at the nail polish that masked yet another part of him, smiling as it fell to dust under his ministrations. Another thing so easily destroyed... another shiny, perfect thing...
Quiet, quiet... I'm good Jaejoong, good boy...
And no one cared.
No one apart from one Jung Yunho of class 48C.
ii.
Each and every afternoon had Yunho waiting for the ebony haired boy, and to everyone else, it was slightly unsettling. This was not the normal way to act. You were meant to leave Jaejoong alone. He was the weird kid - the child whom nobody wanted. But nobody said anything. The school's policies kept anyone from confronting people in a violent manner. Only the teachers were allowed to be aggressive. And of course, that was for the students own good.
"Hey," Yunho said as Jaejoong left the classroom, last as usual, and came to stand in front of him, "You okay?"
Jaejoong nodded, his hair covering the entirety of his face so Yunho was unable to tell the emotions that were consuming him. It was always that way. And yet it was still something that itched inside Yunho's head, "Okay then, let's go."
Yunho was unsure of his position inside the complexity of Jaejoong's mind. Whether he was held high as the person who always watched over him or dropped into the pool of inferior beings that Jaejoong's eyes laid upon each day was never clear. And at the same time as the existence of Jaejoong confused him, it also intrigued him. He hid himself away but at the same time seemed very open with his own company. Before Yunho had approached him, he'd watched Jaejoong sit alone in the field outside during Physical Education, playing with his own hands and laughing at the things that he was saying to himself. So secretive... Yunho had always wanted to know what spurred things in Jaejoong's mind, what it was that Jaejoong found so amusing.
But it had only been a fortnight since Jaejoong had even known of his existence. It seemed that he had spent the last four years of his education wandering around the school with nothing else but his own mind. And although that seemed such a wonderful place to delve inside and be a part of, it still remained a mystery and Yunho found himself becoming jealous of Jaejoong's own private world that he held inside his head. He was well aware that it was unrealistic, but he wished he could thaw the ice that Jaejoong had boxed himself into. He wanted him to open up, tell him his darkest secrets, so he was able to ease any worries that he might have, worries that no one else wanted to listen to.
However, that was going to take a long time.
In fact, it took a lot of time alone for Yunho to convice his own brain that Jaejoong wasn't just meeting him outside of his classroom every day because he had no one else or because he felt rude if he didn't. But the way that Jaejoong always stood with his eyes locked onto his shoelaces had Yunho's mind whirring with all kinds of things wrong with the way he had forced Jaejoong to be friends with him.
They reached the lunch hall and as usual, Yunho felt the eyes on his skull, judging him for being with it, the thing that never spoke. Yet he brushed it all off, watching as Jaejoong retrieved his lunchbox from his bag, and sat in the place where he seemed to feel most relaxed.
He sat himself in the corner of the lunchall, on the floor between the bins and the toilet door. A place for refuge, or a silent way to get noticed without asking? Yunho couldn't understand it. Jaejoong was the most innocent looking thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon. A mixture of vulnerable brokeness. He had the shiny dark hair and the flawless skin, each of his perfected features looking as if they were carved from ivory by the Lord's own hands. And yet the reddish shades beneath his dim eyes showed the marks of something deeper, the thing that was held a secret. But he allowed him to do as he pleased, because who was he to tell Jaejoong what to and what not to do? He wanted to tell him he was worth more than sitting himself between the trash and the dirt; that he would give him all the attention in the world if only he would get up and treat himself with self-worth. But he didn't say that. Because almost everything that Yunho thought and wanted to say or do, he always stopped himself - he meant nothing to Jaejoong and he had no right.
iii.
Three weeks later, Jaejoong starts to speak to him and Yunho wonders if five weeks of undivided dedication was all it took for the dark-haired angel to open up to him. Jaejoong begins to ask him if he wants to come and sit with him in the library or if he wants to spend the Physical Education lessons they have with him instead of doing laps around the field. Jaejoong seems different, much more relaxed but still in the same kind of unapproachable way. When they're together it seems nothing has changed and is unlikely to in the near future, until Yunho listens to Jaejoong's voice. He only answers to yes or no questions and still doesn't allow Yunho to see his eyes, but there's something there, something that means that Jaejoong is blooming, opening up and allowing his secret personality to show.
"I haven't seen that book before, is it new?" Yunho asks, eyeing the cover of the pages that Jaejoong grips fircely when it becomes the topic of conversation.
"Yes," he says, pulling his knees up and pushing his head further into the text. Yunho watches as Jaejoong's hair shifts gently from the movement of his eyelashes, as Yunho assumes his eyes dart over the words and he purses his mouth.
"Can I ask what it's about?" Jaejoong's mouth seems to relax at this and although he doesn't smile, he obliges.
"It's called The Picture of Dorian Gray," Jaejoong says and Yunho smiles as he listens to the melody of his voice properly for the first time, "It's about a man who's influenced by someone interesting in his life. This man and another man, who paints him, makes him believe that he is really the most beautiful thing ever, and that makes him insecure about losing his youth when he grows old. It's sad."
Yunho hears Jaejoong's voice drop into an area which he assumes is the sound of his more melancholy emotions. It's delicate and fragile and Yunho decides that although it holds grace and beauty, he doesn't want to hear that edge of Jaejoong's voice too much.
"It sounds interesting," Yunho smiles, hoping that the charcol-haired boy is able to realise he's got joy plastered on his face and smiles in his heart, "I'd like to read it sometime."
"Do you not think it's a little shameful?" Yunho is confused as Jaejoong speaks, the latter tilting his head slightly so he's facing further into the direction of the other boy, indirectly bringing them closer.
"What's shameful about it?" he inquires, eyes trying to catch any kind of hint.
"He's convinced he's beautiful from another man telling him so," Jaejoong closes the book and traces the character's face with his fingertips, gently, lovingly, "Our world doesn't let things like that go unpunished."
Yunho hears his heart shatter as he hears the words Jaejoong can't hold inside of him and he wishes he could sew the stitches that fix his battle scars the world has given him, "I think our world is stupid. No one should be able to dictate who's allowed to love who."
"If I took my punishment, perhaps the world would be a happier place."
And the smiles in Yunho's heart die.
vi.
Since the afternoon in the field, Jaejoong has changed and Yunho notices that it might not be for the better. However, he's finally scapled his way through the ice barrier that Jaejoong put up and it's a start, despite the fact he's been unable to melt away the layer Jaejoong used to line his heart. He wishes he could figure out the way that his mind works, but he's turned from someone who wouldn't speak into someone who's words have become unpredictable and Yunho can't keep up.
He often speaks in riddles, quotes and sayings.
Never his own words, no, never his own.
"Death before dishonour, Yunho-yah," Jaejoong whispers adoringly, and Yunho looks up from his History essay to see Jaejoong's eyes flick back in the direction of his own journal. He falls into silence again as easily as Yunho fell into infatuation with him, so quickly that Yunho isn't sure he even said it. But then again, sometimes he couldn't be sure whether he was actually awake. He'd had a horrible tendancy of dreaming of Jaejoong, but dreaming of him not doing anything. Only sitting in the field, reading the same book he was the other week, until something breaks him and he loses control. The amount of times Yunho had woken up in a sweat after envisaging Jaejoong with tears burning holes in his cheeks as he chanted the word selfish, over and over until it became the horrible tempo of Yunho's sleep.
"Pardon?" Yunho asks, to check that Jaejoong said anything, but the latter only tilts his head in acknowledgement and Yunho imagines that he's staring blankly at him.
"I didn't say anything," Jaejoong says, his attention seeping slowly back towards the journal in front of him. His pencil scratches across the paper noisily and Yunho thinks that perhaps this boy is going to turn him insane - if he hadn't already, of course.
And when Jaejoong excuses himself from the table to go and find a book, Yunho glances over to the sheet of paper he was abusing with his writing equipment to see three words scrawled a thousand times in handwriting that's nearly unreadable...
death before dishonour.
v.
Yunho had been worrying his lip with his teeth for the days that he'd spent with Jaejoong since he'd seen the repetitve words etched into his journal. He felt like he'd never understand him, like every word he spoke never belonged to him and so it was difficult to try and decipher whether he really meant them or not. In some ways, Yunho wanted to believe that Jaejoong wasn't just this beautiful dream who was telling him things to string him along like a game that was interesting for five minutes. And yet part of his mind lingered on how he always seemed somewhere else, like he preferred living in the stories he read. Just as a child would.
"Yunho-yah," Jaejoong appeared from what seemed like thin air, a frown on his face and a wooly hat on his head, "Am I different enough? Will people remember me after I'm gone?"
"Of course," Yunho says, "Where are you going?"
"No where," Jaejoong whispers, but Yunho watches as he turns in the opposite direction, thinking about a million other things that aren't being here, in this world, "Not yet, anyway."
The sun breaks through the clouds for long enough to stain Jaejoong's face with the trickling daylight, brightening up his snow white skin with a dash of gold. Yunho's breath catches. There's silence and he can hear the hint of Jaejoong's breathing and for a moment, it feels like they're the only ones left in the world. What would it feel like to spend the rest of his life with only Jaejoong? The clouds cover over the light once again and Yunho can't deny that it would be a wonderful world.
"Do you think I'm stupid, Yunho-yah?" Jaejoong hugs himself tighter, the jacket material encasing him in a protection as close to his body as possible.
"No one is ever stupid. Fickle perhaps, but stupid, no. You are probably the last person on Earth that I would call stupid," Yunho outlines his name on the gravel between his legs with a stick he'd found lying around and Jaejoong stares.
"I wanted your opinion first," Jaejoong pulls the wool from his head and stands up with his eyes closed. His hair is a mess and his fringe has fallen away from his eyes so Yunho can see his eyelids, the eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he breathes out in hesitation as he waits for the other's reaction.
Crimson.
"You're hair..." Yunho begins, his eyes absorbing the scarlet from Jaejoong's hair.
Jaejoong pulls on his hat, suddenly self-concious and frantic, "You don't like it, I knew you wouldn't, I'm sorry..." the apologies spilling from Jaejoong's mouth were acid to Yunho's ears as he stood up to cover Jaejoong's mouth with his own hand.
Unused to the physical contact, Jaejoong was stunned into silence, his words dying on his tongue as he felt the tough but soft skin of Yunho's hand brush across his lips. He gave himself a moment to give into Yunho's touch, a slight submission to the boy he'd known for bare months but it was the first time he'd ever felt natural.
On the other hand, Yunho lost himself in amongst the depths of the chocolate globules he was met with. The first time, the very first time that Jaejoong had allowed himself to get close enough to the other to let him observe his eyes, and Yunho couldn't understand why he hadn't let him see before. They were hypnotising.
"No one said anything about not liking it," Yunho's fingertips chose to take over, tracing Jaejoong's jawline. It was gentle, conjured up from an emotion that neither of them had felt before, nor could put their finger on. It was as if the world had accidentally put them together. So wrong... but so right.
"I... didn't want to disappoint you," Jaejoong said, eyes shimmering with so much expectation entwined in a bittersweet connection with failure, "You're the only one that cares..."
"That's not true, Jaejoong-ah," he comforts as Jaejoong begins to let the restrains break and allow his tears to escape.
"I did it so people would remember me. So you would remember me," Jaejoong says as soft as his touch, "I'm easily forgotten. Just one lasting impression on someone means I would have meant something. I'm special, I'm special."
Yunho settles himself on the ground, bringing Jaejoong to sit alongside him as he listens to every part of his being be destroyed by the other's words. He uses his sleeve to dry Jaejoong's streaming tears before he allows the other to rest his head on his shoulder. Jaejoong continues to babble deliriously, but Yunho catches every single word and keeps it with him forever.
"I never told you Yunho-yah," Jaejoong musters up the strength to say as he lifts his head to look directly into Yunho's eyes, "I'm a dead angel, did you know? Did you know I was? Dead. Sent away from Heaven for not being beautiful enough..."
Yunho shakes his head and Jaejoong droops against his shoulder once again, gripping tightly on Yunho's jacket - never leave me please.
His flushed face and tired eyes fall into a slumber in the middle of the sports field just as the sun goes down. And as Yunho watches the spangles of light from behind the clouds disappear behind the hills, he's reminded of the broken sparkles that died in Jaejoong's eyes when he dissolved into fatigue - I couldn't leave even if I tried.
vi.
"Hey, Yunho-ssi," Naeun calls, one of his four different project partners for this term of work, "I chased up the things you've fallen behind in. I didn't realise I'd put so much work on you, forgive me!"
Yunho stares at the papers she has in her hands and realises that he's been taking her for granted for the past two weeks. She's a wonderful girl, possessing a beauty that he'd never even thought possible. Milky brunette hair and a perky personality, she had felt like a godsend - a breath of fresh air. But Yunho had been focusing on the other three subjects that he had planned to take an exam in and so she had been left in the dark with two loads of work and no partner to help her.
She smiles, no hint of sarcasm in her eyes as she hands over the work she'd caught up on for him, "Thank you Naeun-ssi. I'm really sorry, it should be no problem at all but I've had so many things to think about at the moment..." he says as he recalls the last time he'd seen Jaejoong. The boy haunted his thoughts each moment of the day as he wondered whether he was okay or if he was feeling like the world wasn't turning fast enough. Things like that made Jaejoong sad, and Yunho couldn't put his finger on why he was so caught up in Jaejoong's insecurity.
"It's okay Yunho-ssi, I understand. Taking so many classes must be difficult," she wore sincerity on her face as she spoke and it made Yunho smile.
"Yes, but it's no excuse, I promise to try and keep on top of everything from now on!" he says as he catches the scent of her perfume as she laughs, throwing her head back with a carefree expression.
"We both know you're not going to be able to do that, Yunho-ssi! But it's okay, I'll help in whatever way I can," she promises.
"Thank you again, I'll have to take you out for drinks when everything's over," Yunho leans forwards and envelopes her in a welcoming hug full of innocence and gratefulness.
"You're welcome! I have to go now, but I'll see you in class!" she skips down the stairs waving over her shoulder, the lasting grin on her face from their conversation that Yunho can't help but mirror. He turns around to pick his bag back up and catches sight of someone's eyes glimmering from behind the corner of the stairs. They're full of disappointment and sadness and it takes a moment for Yunho to catch on to the familiarity of the longing stare that he's met with.
"Jaejoong-ah?"
But it's too late.
vii.
Half way through a Biology lesson, Yunho is called out and into the medical office. He hates the medical office. It's full of nurses who couldn't care less about how you felt and what was wrong... all they wanted was to either give you a painkiller and send you on your way or keep you in so they were able to stare at you for a while without being sacked. He doesn't understand why he's been called out, he hadn't been sent there since last year when his English teacher had beaten him so badly he'd needed to be sent home. And even then they'd just given him plasters and a glass of water and sent him back to his Geography lesson, coughing up blood and complaining of feeling like death embraced in a human body. But nobody had cared then. So why was he being called back now? It wasn't as if he was still ill from it...
But it all made sense as he entered the room. Someone hauntingly familiar laid lifeless on the measley bed that they had sitting in the corner, shirt removed, bandages around his arms and a drip piercing his skin.
"What... what... I don't... when..." he muttered, his eyes chained to the tragic sight before him, the pale skin carrying no life beneath it.
"He passed out in his Korean class. They found scratches on his arms and this underneath his desk covered in blood," a nurse said from her desk on the otherside of the room, holding up a green compass that Yunho had seen in Jaejoong's pencil case many times before, "He woke up about ten minutes ago and was calling for you, crying, whimpering... pathetic if you ask me, but we assumed it was best to get you down here. He fell asleep about two minutes ago because we gave him a sedative to calm him down. He probably won't wake up for another fifteen minutes, and if he does it's unlikely he'll remember the conversation you'll have, but we think it's best if you stay with him as we're about to go on our lunch break. Here's the panic button, we'll come if you press it. Do not press it unless it's serious," she continued before she got up and left the room.
Yunho scoffed at her disgusting attitude. Jaejoong was... lying here with lines etched into his arms from his own actions, and she wasn't even going to spend the time to investigate it. Give him a sedative and it'll be okay?
He watched Jaejoong's forehead crinkle in his sleep and wondered whether he was dreaming or whether it was just the pain beneath the bandages. Yunho felt as if his heart had been restuck together a thousand times and that if it broke once more it wouldn't be able to be repaired, and yet it managed to fall to pieces at the sight of Jaejoong's sleeping form.
"I'm here Jaejoong-ah, I'm here..."
"Yunho-yah..." Jaejoong hissed, his eyes squinting as he befriended the lights in the medical office. Pain shot through his arms as he tried to hold his head, forgetting what he'd done. It rushed back to him like a nightmare and he began to whimper, "Yunho-yah..."
"I'm here, it's okay, you're safe. Just... don't try to move your arms," Yunho warned, attempting to push Jaejoong's shoulders back so he laid on the bed. As he attempted to support Jaejoong, his hands brushed along the back of Jaejoong's shoulder blades and he pauses. Angel wings?
"No, Yunho-yah," Jaejoong said, crying out in pain as he gripped onto Yunho's blazer, "It hurts..."
"That's why you have to lay still," the other worried, rearranging Jaejoong's pillows to try and persuade him to lay his scarlet head back down and fall back asleep, "You need to sleep some more, Jaejoong-ah. It's dangerous otherwise."
"But I need to talk to you," Jaejoong sighs, his arms numbing and his eyes feeling droopy, "It's because... you..."
"Tell me you didn't do this because of me, Jaejoong-ah!" Yunho's eyes blazed in fear and in hate for himself, "I couldn't ever forgive myself if..."
"No," Jaejoong's voice came out in whispers now, his mind dragging his body to sleep but not without kicking and screaming refusal, "I did it to go back to where I came from. I tried death before dishonour... I wasn't going to dishonour my family with my feelings, but it didn't work... My wings... I know you can see them, feel them. Daddy said I was an angel, but he never wanted me to be who I was. Daddy made me like this. I don't mean to be stupid... or weird... or different, but I'm just doing as Daddy says, Yunho-yah... I'm a dead angel, did you know? Did you know I was?"
"Yes, I did," Yunho whispered as he coaxed Jaejoong into sleep, "But you were sent away from Heaven... for being too beautiful..."
viii.
Since Jaejoong's trip to the medical office, Yunho noticed that he'd gone back to his old ways. He'd dyed his hair back to his original colour, the darkest shade of black that he could find in the shop. He said that the crimson reminded him too much of what he'd done. And so he soon became the shining raven that Yunho had first met. However, that was the last thing he had said to Yunho before he'd switched back to speaking in quotes, refusing to say anything that he hadn't read or was his own words.
"It is much easier to surpress a first desire than to satisfy those that follow," Jaejoong says, sounding like he's convincing himself of something than anything else.
"Benjamin Franklin," Yunho replies, and Jaejoong can only offer a smile in response to his familiarity with the person he was quoting, "I didn't know you were interested in him."
Jaejoong's eyes drift to the water in the lake they're walking beside, losing himself in the ripples created by the passing wind. It's whistles rang in Yunho's ears as it tickles through over their skin and twines itself between the locks in their hair and Yunho catches sight of Jaejoong holding out his arms, giving in to his own reactions, and it stuns him for a moment. He admires the way Jaejoong's dark hair brushes around his face and his eyelids flutter as the wind threatens to dry his eyes.
Perhaps he is an angel afterall.
Jaejoong brings his arms back in to hug himself again, a habit that hasn't gone unnoticed by Yunho, "If a man could have half of his wishes, he would double his troubles."
"That's not neccessarily true," Yunho says, "If someone obtained half of their wishes, then they'd be double as happy as they were before, troubles would come with or without their wishes."
Jaejoong desposits himself cross-legged on the floor next to the lake and proceeds to toss stones into the water, mesmirized by the effect it makes.
"If you desire many things, many will seem few. That's Benjamin Franklin too," Yunho opens up his bag and pulls out The Picture of Dorian Gray, "I bought this the day after you said you were interested in it," he flicks through the pages. Jaejoong watches from his place on the bank, catching sight of some of his favourite moments of the book. His memory whirrs as he recalls that the book is full of things that he wants to say and he was worried how accurate some of the text really was in realation to him.
"You remind me of Sibyl Vane," Yunho remarks, smiling as he reads some of the pages that portrays the love that Dorian and Sibyl shared, "Before she died, of course. She was stunningly beautiful, and Dorian loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He couldn't stop himself telling all of his friends about her, especially Lord Henry. And even when he said such horrid things about her, Dorian couldn't stop loving her, because she was just too wonderful in his eyes," he says, eyes connected to Jaejoong's as he compares the two, "But then you also remind me of Dorian himself. Because of how wonderfully divine he always looked, his handsome beauty and the youth that he managed to share with everyone. The things that made Basil fall in love with him..."
"But you're Dorian," Jaejoong insists, his own words falling out so naturally as his eyes scan his brain for the memory, "I worshipped you. I grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you."
"Basil, chapter nine?" Yunho recalls, before he drinks in the meaning of Jaejoong's words and realisation shoots across his expression, "Every quote you speak relates to you, doesn't it?"
And Jaejoong nods, "A southern wind of passion swept over her and stirred the dainty folds of her dress. 'I love him', she said simply."
Yunho's eyes widened. Jaejoong... loved him?
"I will always be fond of you. You represent all of the sins I never had the courage to commit," he continued, unsure of himself, treading in a direction that led him to a path with unsteady footing. But he leaned forwards anyway, urged on by the passion he saw dash across Yunho's eyes. He'd compared him to Sibyl Vane, called him beautiful on two occasions... Sibyl was unsure of herself, the only thing she knew was her love for Dorian... and that was nothing compared to the emotions that Jaejoong had attatched to Yunho.
"Jaejoong-ah..." Yunho breathes, his face unconciously moving closer to the angel that he sat beside.
"The only way to get rid of a temptation... is to yield to it," Jaejoong whispers, a final sacrifice before closed eyes hide Yunho's reactions. Behind his eyelids, his world comes together, with vibrant eruptions of colour in blood red and golden sunshine and he doesn't seem to be aware of the world beyond them until he feels the familiar touch of fingertips on his jaw.
"You're out of your mind, but so spot on at the same time and I've loved you since the start," Yunho admits, and Jaejoong opens his eyes just in time to watch love burst behind Yunho's pupils before he closes them off and offers his heart through his lips instead. They're soft, like cushions and warm like hot chocolate, with a similar taste and it's addictive. He's never felt anything like this, and Jaejoong decides that it's passion, but it tastes like gold and silver.
Yunho's tongue reaches out to admire Jaejoong in a seperate way. As Jaejoong opens up for him, he catches a droplet of innocence that bursts on his tongue, exploding into intense affection. He presses into Jaejoong's shoulder blades as gently as he can and he feels the wings that had caused him the lifetime of pain, and kisses harder to try and remove the memories that he's sure he'll be let into sometime in the future.
The quiet angel that Yunho found in the classroom of 29C was beneath his fingertips, aching with devotion, and it's a gush of ecstasy into his palms as he entwines their fingers.
And it's too cold outside, for angels to fly.
________________
yes you are seeing this. yes this is me.
oh my god, i know. i feel like i haven't been here in yonks and it's not even funny!
i've been going, 'i have to post something but i've been away so long so it has to be amazing!'
but it turned out to be this, which is not amazing. but it's an appropriate length, i feel...
thank you for waiting for me guys. i'm not sure of the status of dollhouse, but i'll get back to you.
drop me a comment, i know you've been waiting a while, but i'll love it nonetheless!
Yunho/Jaejoong
AU, Romance, Small Angst.
wc. 5340.
minor references to self-harm.
Jaejoong doesn't cut the definition of the 'normal child'. Yunho is sure that he wouldn't have him any other way. He's out of his mind and he quotes Oscar Wilde, but he's an angel, fallen, but not broken beyond repair.
i.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock...
Silent classroom. Perfect classroom. Good children, good children...
The woman at the front of the classroom was grey-haired. Her features were deteriorating and it was obvious that she was nearly at the end of what could have almost been classed as 'middle-aged'. She wore a small wrinkled face, the biggest hint at the tale of her life, suggesting the amount of times she'd found it necessary to frown and the lacking of occasions where she had chosen to smile. She sported a dusty and sullen expression of hate and fatigue, the will to just pass on evident in her eyes as they ran across the students staring at her, waiting for her to begin her lesson.
And the school mirrored her, with it's torn wallpaper and crumbling bricks. Stacks of books littered the classroom, pencils taking their spots in every other space available and dust smothering just about everything, weighing down the air and dragging students souls with it. The school halls smelt of wood and dirt, and this room was no exception, each person taking turns to cough lightly at the horrible scent. And yet there was some kind of peaceful dullness that lay about the room. It allowed each of them to come to terms with the fact that they shared the fear of the school that held so many rumours of death and decay.
"Turn to page one hundred and ninety five," the lady ordered, her tone mild with a sticking authority - one that the class of forty pupils chose not to ignore. She was sinister.
Like clockwork, and in almost perfect silence, each youth flipped the pages of their respective book.
She began a drone - something related to the lifespan of a newt or some other kind of uninteresting mumble. And each and every one of them listened, moulding themselves to the dictatorship that the school had become run by. Each of them fitting into the specification of what they classed the normal child.
And yet, at the back of the classroom, whispering to himself as his slim fingers battled with each other, mirroring the patterns of his thoughts, was a diamond in the rough. The young boy who no one could figure out. He was different. He was unique. And no one knew how to solve him... and no one felt the need to even try.
He scratched at the nail polish that masked yet another part of him, smiling as it fell to dust under his ministrations. Another thing so easily destroyed... another shiny, perfect thing...
Quiet, quiet... I'm good Jaejoong, good boy...
And no one cared.
No one apart from one Jung Yunho of class 48C.
ii.
Each and every afternoon had Yunho waiting for the ebony haired boy, and to everyone else, it was slightly unsettling. This was not the normal way to act. You were meant to leave Jaejoong alone. He was the weird kid - the child whom nobody wanted. But nobody said anything. The school's policies kept anyone from confronting people in a violent manner. Only the teachers were allowed to be aggressive. And of course, that was for the students own good.
"Hey," Yunho said as Jaejoong left the classroom, last as usual, and came to stand in front of him, "You okay?"
Jaejoong nodded, his hair covering the entirety of his face so Yunho was unable to tell the emotions that were consuming him. It was always that way. And yet it was still something that itched inside Yunho's head, "Okay then, let's go."
Yunho was unsure of his position inside the complexity of Jaejoong's mind. Whether he was held high as the person who always watched over him or dropped into the pool of inferior beings that Jaejoong's eyes laid upon each day was never clear. And at the same time as the existence of Jaejoong confused him, it also intrigued him. He hid himself away but at the same time seemed very open with his own company. Before Yunho had approached him, he'd watched Jaejoong sit alone in the field outside during Physical Education, playing with his own hands and laughing at the things that he was saying to himself. So secretive... Yunho had always wanted to know what spurred things in Jaejoong's mind, what it was that Jaejoong found so amusing.
But it had only been a fortnight since Jaejoong had even known of his existence. It seemed that he had spent the last four years of his education wandering around the school with nothing else but his own mind. And although that seemed such a wonderful place to delve inside and be a part of, it still remained a mystery and Yunho found himself becoming jealous of Jaejoong's own private world that he held inside his head. He was well aware that it was unrealistic, but he wished he could thaw the ice that Jaejoong had boxed himself into. He wanted him to open up, tell him his darkest secrets, so he was able to ease any worries that he might have, worries that no one else wanted to listen to.
However, that was going to take a long time.
In fact, it took a lot of time alone for Yunho to convice his own brain that Jaejoong wasn't just meeting him outside of his classroom every day because he had no one else or because he felt rude if he didn't. But the way that Jaejoong always stood with his eyes locked onto his shoelaces had Yunho's mind whirring with all kinds of things wrong with the way he had forced Jaejoong to be friends with him.
They reached the lunch hall and as usual, Yunho felt the eyes on his skull, judging him for being with it, the thing that never spoke. Yet he brushed it all off, watching as Jaejoong retrieved his lunchbox from his bag, and sat in the place where he seemed to feel most relaxed.
He sat himself in the corner of the lunchall, on the floor between the bins and the toilet door. A place for refuge, or a silent way to get noticed without asking? Yunho couldn't understand it. Jaejoong was the most innocent looking thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon. A mixture of vulnerable brokeness. He had the shiny dark hair and the flawless skin, each of his perfected features looking as if they were carved from ivory by the Lord's own hands. And yet the reddish shades beneath his dim eyes showed the marks of something deeper, the thing that was held a secret. But he allowed him to do as he pleased, because who was he to tell Jaejoong what to and what not to do? He wanted to tell him he was worth more than sitting himself between the trash and the dirt; that he would give him all the attention in the world if only he would get up and treat himself with self-worth. But he didn't say that. Because almost everything that Yunho thought and wanted to say or do, he always stopped himself - he meant nothing to Jaejoong and he had no right.
iii.
Three weeks later, Jaejoong starts to speak to him and Yunho wonders if five weeks of undivided dedication was all it took for the dark-haired angel to open up to him. Jaejoong begins to ask him if he wants to come and sit with him in the library or if he wants to spend the Physical Education lessons they have with him instead of doing laps around the field. Jaejoong seems different, much more relaxed but still in the same kind of unapproachable way. When they're together it seems nothing has changed and is unlikely to in the near future, until Yunho listens to Jaejoong's voice. He only answers to yes or no questions and still doesn't allow Yunho to see his eyes, but there's something there, something that means that Jaejoong is blooming, opening up and allowing his secret personality to show.
"I haven't seen that book before, is it new?" Yunho asks, eyeing the cover of the pages that Jaejoong grips fircely when it becomes the topic of conversation.
"Yes," he says, pulling his knees up and pushing his head further into the text. Yunho watches as Jaejoong's hair shifts gently from the movement of his eyelashes, as Yunho assumes his eyes dart over the words and he purses his mouth.
"Can I ask what it's about?" Jaejoong's mouth seems to relax at this and although he doesn't smile, he obliges.
"It's called The Picture of Dorian Gray," Jaejoong says and Yunho smiles as he listens to the melody of his voice properly for the first time, "It's about a man who's influenced by someone interesting in his life. This man and another man, who paints him, makes him believe that he is really the most beautiful thing ever, and that makes him insecure about losing his youth when he grows old. It's sad."
Yunho hears Jaejoong's voice drop into an area which he assumes is the sound of his more melancholy emotions. It's delicate and fragile and Yunho decides that although it holds grace and beauty, he doesn't want to hear that edge of Jaejoong's voice too much.
"It sounds interesting," Yunho smiles, hoping that the charcol-haired boy is able to realise he's got joy plastered on his face and smiles in his heart, "I'd like to read it sometime."
"Do you not think it's a little shameful?" Yunho is confused as Jaejoong speaks, the latter tilting his head slightly so he's facing further into the direction of the other boy, indirectly bringing them closer.
"What's shameful about it?" he inquires, eyes trying to catch any kind of hint.
"He's convinced he's beautiful from another man telling him so," Jaejoong closes the book and traces the character's face with his fingertips, gently, lovingly, "Our world doesn't let things like that go unpunished."
Yunho hears his heart shatter as he hears the words Jaejoong can't hold inside of him and he wishes he could sew the stitches that fix his battle scars the world has given him, "I think our world is stupid. No one should be able to dictate who's allowed to love who."
"If I took my punishment, perhaps the world would be a happier place."
And the smiles in Yunho's heart die.
vi.
Since the afternoon in the field, Jaejoong has changed and Yunho notices that it might not be for the better. However, he's finally scapled his way through the ice barrier that Jaejoong put up and it's a start, despite the fact he's been unable to melt away the layer Jaejoong used to line his heart. He wishes he could figure out the way that his mind works, but he's turned from someone who wouldn't speak into someone who's words have become unpredictable and Yunho can't keep up.
He often speaks in riddles, quotes and sayings.
Never his own words, no, never his own.
"Death before dishonour, Yunho-yah," Jaejoong whispers adoringly, and Yunho looks up from his History essay to see Jaejoong's eyes flick back in the direction of his own journal. He falls into silence again as easily as Yunho fell into infatuation with him, so quickly that Yunho isn't sure he even said it. But then again, sometimes he couldn't be sure whether he was actually awake. He'd had a horrible tendancy of dreaming of Jaejoong, but dreaming of him not doing anything. Only sitting in the field, reading the same book he was the other week, until something breaks him and he loses control. The amount of times Yunho had woken up in a sweat after envisaging Jaejoong with tears burning holes in his cheeks as he chanted the word selfish, over and over until it became the horrible tempo of Yunho's sleep.
"Pardon?" Yunho asks, to check that Jaejoong said anything, but the latter only tilts his head in acknowledgement and Yunho imagines that he's staring blankly at him.
"I didn't say anything," Jaejoong says, his attention seeping slowly back towards the journal in front of him. His pencil scratches across the paper noisily and Yunho thinks that perhaps this boy is going to turn him insane - if he hadn't already, of course.
And when Jaejoong excuses himself from the table to go and find a book, Yunho glances over to the sheet of paper he was abusing with his writing equipment to see three words scrawled a thousand times in handwriting that's nearly unreadable...
death before dishonour.
v.
Yunho had been worrying his lip with his teeth for the days that he'd spent with Jaejoong since he'd seen the repetitve words etched into his journal. He felt like he'd never understand him, like every word he spoke never belonged to him and so it was difficult to try and decipher whether he really meant them or not. In some ways, Yunho wanted to believe that Jaejoong wasn't just this beautiful dream who was telling him things to string him along like a game that was interesting for five minutes. And yet part of his mind lingered on how he always seemed somewhere else, like he preferred living in the stories he read. Just as a child would.
"Yunho-yah," Jaejoong appeared from what seemed like thin air, a frown on his face and a wooly hat on his head, "Am I different enough? Will people remember me after I'm gone?"
"Of course," Yunho says, "Where are you going?"
"No where," Jaejoong whispers, but Yunho watches as he turns in the opposite direction, thinking about a million other things that aren't being here, in this world, "Not yet, anyway."
The sun breaks through the clouds for long enough to stain Jaejoong's face with the trickling daylight, brightening up his snow white skin with a dash of gold. Yunho's breath catches. There's silence and he can hear the hint of Jaejoong's breathing and for a moment, it feels like they're the only ones left in the world. What would it feel like to spend the rest of his life with only Jaejoong? The clouds cover over the light once again and Yunho can't deny that it would be a wonderful world.
"Do you think I'm stupid, Yunho-yah?" Jaejoong hugs himself tighter, the jacket material encasing him in a protection as close to his body as possible.
"No one is ever stupid. Fickle perhaps, but stupid, no. You are probably the last person on Earth that I would call stupid," Yunho outlines his name on the gravel between his legs with a stick he'd found lying around and Jaejoong stares.
"I wanted your opinion first," Jaejoong pulls the wool from his head and stands up with his eyes closed. His hair is a mess and his fringe has fallen away from his eyes so Yunho can see his eyelids, the eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he breathes out in hesitation as he waits for the other's reaction.
Crimson.
"You're hair..." Yunho begins, his eyes absorbing the scarlet from Jaejoong's hair.
Jaejoong pulls on his hat, suddenly self-concious and frantic, "You don't like it, I knew you wouldn't, I'm sorry..." the apologies spilling from Jaejoong's mouth were acid to Yunho's ears as he stood up to cover Jaejoong's mouth with his own hand.
Unused to the physical contact, Jaejoong was stunned into silence, his words dying on his tongue as he felt the tough but soft skin of Yunho's hand brush across his lips. He gave himself a moment to give into Yunho's touch, a slight submission to the boy he'd known for bare months but it was the first time he'd ever felt natural.
On the other hand, Yunho lost himself in amongst the depths of the chocolate globules he was met with. The first time, the very first time that Jaejoong had allowed himself to get close enough to the other to let him observe his eyes, and Yunho couldn't understand why he hadn't let him see before. They were hypnotising.
"No one said anything about not liking it," Yunho's fingertips chose to take over, tracing Jaejoong's jawline. It was gentle, conjured up from an emotion that neither of them had felt before, nor could put their finger on. It was as if the world had accidentally put them together. So wrong... but so right.
"I... didn't want to disappoint you," Jaejoong said, eyes shimmering with so much expectation entwined in a bittersweet connection with failure, "You're the only one that cares..."
"That's not true, Jaejoong-ah," he comforts as Jaejoong begins to let the restrains break and allow his tears to escape.
"I did it so people would remember me. So you would remember me," Jaejoong says as soft as his touch, "I'm easily forgotten. Just one lasting impression on someone means I would have meant something. I'm special, I'm special."
Yunho settles himself on the ground, bringing Jaejoong to sit alongside him as he listens to every part of his being be destroyed by the other's words. He uses his sleeve to dry Jaejoong's streaming tears before he allows the other to rest his head on his shoulder. Jaejoong continues to babble deliriously, but Yunho catches every single word and keeps it with him forever.
"I never told you Yunho-yah," Jaejoong musters up the strength to say as he lifts his head to look directly into Yunho's eyes, "I'm a dead angel, did you know? Did you know I was? Dead. Sent away from Heaven for not being beautiful enough..."
Yunho shakes his head and Jaejoong droops against his shoulder once again, gripping tightly on Yunho's jacket - never leave me please.
His flushed face and tired eyes fall into a slumber in the middle of the sports field just as the sun goes down. And as Yunho watches the spangles of light from behind the clouds disappear behind the hills, he's reminded of the broken sparkles that died in Jaejoong's eyes when he dissolved into fatigue - I couldn't leave even if I tried.
vi.
"Hey, Yunho-ssi," Naeun calls, one of his four different project partners for this term of work, "I chased up the things you've fallen behind in. I didn't realise I'd put so much work on you, forgive me!"
Yunho stares at the papers she has in her hands and realises that he's been taking her for granted for the past two weeks. She's a wonderful girl, possessing a beauty that he'd never even thought possible. Milky brunette hair and a perky personality, she had felt like a godsend - a breath of fresh air. But Yunho had been focusing on the other three subjects that he had planned to take an exam in and so she had been left in the dark with two loads of work and no partner to help her.
She smiles, no hint of sarcasm in her eyes as she hands over the work she'd caught up on for him, "Thank you Naeun-ssi. I'm really sorry, it should be no problem at all but I've had so many things to think about at the moment..." he says as he recalls the last time he'd seen Jaejoong. The boy haunted his thoughts each moment of the day as he wondered whether he was okay or if he was feeling like the world wasn't turning fast enough. Things like that made Jaejoong sad, and Yunho couldn't put his finger on why he was so caught up in Jaejoong's insecurity.
"It's okay Yunho-ssi, I understand. Taking so many classes must be difficult," she wore sincerity on her face as she spoke and it made Yunho smile.
"Yes, but it's no excuse, I promise to try and keep on top of everything from now on!" he says as he catches the scent of her perfume as she laughs, throwing her head back with a carefree expression.
"We both know you're not going to be able to do that, Yunho-ssi! But it's okay, I'll help in whatever way I can," she promises.
"Thank you again, I'll have to take you out for drinks when everything's over," Yunho leans forwards and envelopes her in a welcoming hug full of innocence and gratefulness.
"You're welcome! I have to go now, but I'll see you in class!" she skips down the stairs waving over her shoulder, the lasting grin on her face from their conversation that Yunho can't help but mirror. He turns around to pick his bag back up and catches sight of someone's eyes glimmering from behind the corner of the stairs. They're full of disappointment and sadness and it takes a moment for Yunho to catch on to the familiarity of the longing stare that he's met with.
"Jaejoong-ah?"
But it's too late.
vii.
Half way through a Biology lesson, Yunho is called out and into the medical office. He hates the medical office. It's full of nurses who couldn't care less about how you felt and what was wrong... all they wanted was to either give you a painkiller and send you on your way or keep you in so they were able to stare at you for a while without being sacked. He doesn't understand why he's been called out, he hadn't been sent there since last year when his English teacher had beaten him so badly he'd needed to be sent home. And even then they'd just given him plasters and a glass of water and sent him back to his Geography lesson, coughing up blood and complaining of feeling like death embraced in a human body. But nobody had cared then. So why was he being called back now? It wasn't as if he was still ill from it...
But it all made sense as he entered the room. Someone hauntingly familiar laid lifeless on the measley bed that they had sitting in the corner, shirt removed, bandages around his arms and a drip piercing his skin.
"What... what... I don't... when..." he muttered, his eyes chained to the tragic sight before him, the pale skin carrying no life beneath it.
"He passed out in his Korean class. They found scratches on his arms and this underneath his desk covered in blood," a nurse said from her desk on the otherside of the room, holding up a green compass that Yunho had seen in Jaejoong's pencil case many times before, "He woke up about ten minutes ago and was calling for you, crying, whimpering... pathetic if you ask me, but we assumed it was best to get you down here. He fell asleep about two minutes ago because we gave him a sedative to calm him down. He probably won't wake up for another fifteen minutes, and if he does it's unlikely he'll remember the conversation you'll have, but we think it's best if you stay with him as we're about to go on our lunch break. Here's the panic button, we'll come if you press it. Do not press it unless it's serious," she continued before she got up and left the room.
Yunho scoffed at her disgusting attitude. Jaejoong was... lying here with lines etched into his arms from his own actions, and she wasn't even going to spend the time to investigate it. Give him a sedative and it'll be okay?
He watched Jaejoong's forehead crinkle in his sleep and wondered whether he was dreaming or whether it was just the pain beneath the bandages. Yunho felt as if his heart had been restuck together a thousand times and that if it broke once more it wouldn't be able to be repaired, and yet it managed to fall to pieces at the sight of Jaejoong's sleeping form.
"I'm here Jaejoong-ah, I'm here..."
"Yunho-yah..." Jaejoong hissed, his eyes squinting as he befriended the lights in the medical office. Pain shot through his arms as he tried to hold his head, forgetting what he'd done. It rushed back to him like a nightmare and he began to whimper, "Yunho-yah..."
"I'm here, it's okay, you're safe. Just... don't try to move your arms," Yunho warned, attempting to push Jaejoong's shoulders back so he laid on the bed. As he attempted to support Jaejoong, his hands brushed along the back of Jaejoong's shoulder blades and he pauses. Angel wings?
"No, Yunho-yah," Jaejoong said, crying out in pain as he gripped onto Yunho's blazer, "It hurts..."
"That's why you have to lay still," the other worried, rearranging Jaejoong's pillows to try and persuade him to lay his scarlet head back down and fall back asleep, "You need to sleep some more, Jaejoong-ah. It's dangerous otherwise."
"But I need to talk to you," Jaejoong sighs, his arms numbing and his eyes feeling droopy, "It's because... you..."
"Tell me you didn't do this because of me, Jaejoong-ah!" Yunho's eyes blazed in fear and in hate for himself, "I couldn't ever forgive myself if..."
"No," Jaejoong's voice came out in whispers now, his mind dragging his body to sleep but not without kicking and screaming refusal, "I did it to go back to where I came from. I tried death before dishonour... I wasn't going to dishonour my family with my feelings, but it didn't work... My wings... I know you can see them, feel them. Daddy said I was an angel, but he never wanted me to be who I was. Daddy made me like this. I don't mean to be stupid... or weird... or different, but I'm just doing as Daddy says, Yunho-yah... I'm a dead angel, did you know? Did you know I was?"
"Yes, I did," Yunho whispered as he coaxed Jaejoong into sleep, "But you were sent away from Heaven... for being too beautiful..."
viii.
Since Jaejoong's trip to the medical office, Yunho noticed that he'd gone back to his old ways. He'd dyed his hair back to his original colour, the darkest shade of black that he could find in the shop. He said that the crimson reminded him too much of what he'd done. And so he soon became the shining raven that Yunho had first met. However, that was the last thing he had said to Yunho before he'd switched back to speaking in quotes, refusing to say anything that he hadn't read or was his own words.
"It is much easier to surpress a first desire than to satisfy those that follow," Jaejoong says, sounding like he's convincing himself of something than anything else.
"Benjamin Franklin," Yunho replies, and Jaejoong can only offer a smile in response to his familiarity with the person he was quoting, "I didn't know you were interested in him."
Jaejoong's eyes drift to the water in the lake they're walking beside, losing himself in the ripples created by the passing wind. It's whistles rang in Yunho's ears as it tickles through over their skin and twines itself between the locks in their hair and Yunho catches sight of Jaejoong holding out his arms, giving in to his own reactions, and it stuns him for a moment. He admires the way Jaejoong's dark hair brushes around his face and his eyelids flutter as the wind threatens to dry his eyes.
Perhaps he is an angel afterall.
Jaejoong brings his arms back in to hug himself again, a habit that hasn't gone unnoticed by Yunho, "If a man could have half of his wishes, he would double his troubles."
"That's not neccessarily true," Yunho says, "If someone obtained half of their wishes, then they'd be double as happy as they were before, troubles would come with or without their wishes."
Jaejoong desposits himself cross-legged on the floor next to the lake and proceeds to toss stones into the water, mesmirized by the effect it makes.
"If you desire many things, many will seem few. That's Benjamin Franklin too," Yunho opens up his bag and pulls out The Picture of Dorian Gray, "I bought this the day after you said you were interested in it," he flicks through the pages. Jaejoong watches from his place on the bank, catching sight of some of his favourite moments of the book. His memory whirrs as he recalls that the book is full of things that he wants to say and he was worried how accurate some of the text really was in realation to him.
"You remind me of Sibyl Vane," Yunho remarks, smiling as he reads some of the pages that portrays the love that Dorian and Sibyl shared, "Before she died, of course. She was stunningly beautiful, and Dorian loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He couldn't stop himself telling all of his friends about her, especially Lord Henry. And even when he said such horrid things about her, Dorian couldn't stop loving her, because she was just too wonderful in his eyes," he says, eyes connected to Jaejoong's as he compares the two, "But then you also remind me of Dorian himself. Because of how wonderfully divine he always looked, his handsome beauty and the youth that he managed to share with everyone. The things that made Basil fall in love with him..."
"But you're Dorian," Jaejoong insists, his own words falling out so naturally as his eyes scan his brain for the memory, "I worshipped you. I grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you."
"Basil, chapter nine?" Yunho recalls, before he drinks in the meaning of Jaejoong's words and realisation shoots across his expression, "Every quote you speak relates to you, doesn't it?"
And Jaejoong nods, "A southern wind of passion swept over her and stirred the dainty folds of her dress. 'I love him', she said simply."
Yunho's eyes widened. Jaejoong... loved him?
"I will always be fond of you. You represent all of the sins I never had the courage to commit," he continued, unsure of himself, treading in a direction that led him to a path with unsteady footing. But he leaned forwards anyway, urged on by the passion he saw dash across Yunho's eyes. He'd compared him to Sibyl Vane, called him beautiful on two occasions... Sibyl was unsure of herself, the only thing she knew was her love for Dorian... and that was nothing compared to the emotions that Jaejoong had attatched to Yunho.
"Jaejoong-ah..." Yunho breathes, his face unconciously moving closer to the angel that he sat beside.
"The only way to get rid of a temptation... is to yield to it," Jaejoong whispers, a final sacrifice before closed eyes hide Yunho's reactions. Behind his eyelids, his world comes together, with vibrant eruptions of colour in blood red and golden sunshine and he doesn't seem to be aware of the world beyond them until he feels the familiar touch of fingertips on his jaw.
"You're out of your mind, but so spot on at the same time and I've loved you since the start," Yunho admits, and Jaejoong opens his eyes just in time to watch love burst behind Yunho's pupils before he closes them off and offers his heart through his lips instead. They're soft, like cushions and warm like hot chocolate, with a similar taste and it's addictive. He's never felt anything like this, and Jaejoong decides that it's passion, but it tastes like gold and silver.
Yunho's tongue reaches out to admire Jaejoong in a seperate way. As Jaejoong opens up for him, he catches a droplet of innocence that bursts on his tongue, exploding into intense affection. He presses into Jaejoong's shoulder blades as gently as he can and he feels the wings that had caused him the lifetime of pain, and kisses harder to try and remove the memories that he's sure he'll be let into sometime in the future.
The quiet angel that Yunho found in the classroom of 29C was beneath his fingertips, aching with devotion, and it's a gush of ecstasy into his palms as he entwines their fingers.
And it's too cold outside, for angels to fly.
________________
yes you are seeing this. yes this is me.
oh my god, i know. i feel like i haven't been here in yonks and it's not even funny!
i've been going, 'i have to post something but i've been away so long so it has to be amazing!'
but it turned out to be this, which is not amazing. but it's an appropriate length, i feel...
thank you for waiting for me guys. i'm not sure of the status of dollhouse, but i'll get back to you.
drop me a comment, i know you've been waiting a while, but i'll love it nonetheless!