wip dump, sort of multi-fandom-ish but not really
there's bound to be a shitload of spelling/grammatical errors, i apologise in advance!
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taekyeon/jaebum
Jaebum doesn’t even bat an eyelash when Taekyeon pops into his room out of thin air.
“You’re late,” he tells him with a frown.
“Something came up.” Taekyeon smiles at him, big and wide and honest as he dusts the lint off his plaid shirt. “Sorry, I’ll make it up to you next time.”
Jaebum rolls his eyes and doesn’t reply. He knows that Taekyeon is telling the truth, it’s obvious from the way he flops down onto Jaebum’s bed, curling up into a ball.
“I’m so tired, Jay,” he mumbles into the pillow, gathering Jaebum’s blue blankets around him. “Let me sleep for ten minutes and then we can go over the workout schedule.”
Jaebum wants to say no, wants to tell Taekyeon to get off his lazy ass and to start doing push ups but he doesn’t. Taekyeon’s fallen asleep if his snores are anything to go by, so Jaebum curls up next to Taekyeon in his bed. He falls asleep to the sound of Taekyeon’s soft breathing and heavy snores. And as he lets sleep take over him, Jaebum can’t help but think that it’s been a while since he’s felt at peace.
He wakes up the next morning to an empty bed.
*
“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Taekyeon asks him one night as they sit on the floor of Jaebum’s room, leaning against the wall.
“What? That you teleport here every other night to work out?”
“Okay, besides that.” Taekyeon unscrews the water bottle Jaebum hands him and gulps it down. “Dude, we have powers.”
“Not really. The only ones who can do anything cool are you, me and Wooyoung.” Jaebum shrugs and pulls the towel over his head. “The others have nothing.”
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jay/khun, anyband AU sequel
Nichkhun knows that this meeting is going downhill right when the new comer - what’s his name again? Jiyong? - slams his coffee mug forcefully on the kitchen table. By now, they should have gotten used to these random outbursts of anger from him but even still, Nichkhun is flinching in shock.
“Are you insulting me?” Jiyong asks, narrowing his eyes at Jaebum.
“No,” Jaebum replies, sighing, “I’m just saying that maybe it’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a perfect idea!”
“Not quite-”
“Listen, I know you know all this political bullshit that’s going on but trust me on this one,” Jiyong says as he leans forward on the table, inching his face closer to Jaebum. “She’ll break down once we play my songs up on the roofs and-”
“It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
Jiyong’s eyebrows furrow as his nostrils flare, which causes Nichkhun to bring a hand up to squeeze Jaebum’s shoulder. “Look, I’ve given you all the evidence that you need in that backs me up on this. What more do you want?”
“There’s no basis for the research, Jiyong-sshi. Everything sounds nice on paper but when you put theory into practice how are you going to assure me that it’s going to work out?”
“It just will! All you need to know is in black and white-”
“Just because it looks good on paper doesn’t mean it’ll work in the real world.” Jaebum shakes his head, Jiyong moving to sit in the last available seat next to Junsu. “I’m sorry.”
Nichkhun is silent as Jiyong rolls his eyes, shrugging off Jaebum’s decision with his shoulders. The rest of the room is silent, waiting for Jaebum to bring up the next topic of discussion.
It’s been three months since the two of them had escaped from the city prison and a lot has changed since then. The most drastic change had been Jaebum taking over his mother’s position as one of the leaders of the Rebellion. The first month and a half had been a constant power struggle between the two. Jung Jooyeon kept pushing more and more responsibility onto Jaebum, whereas the latter did not want it. After much pushing and pushing
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jay/junho
at the end of the night, jaebum loosens the tie that suffocated him for the few hours of the funeral. he tosses it onto his bed, then takes off his belt, flinging it to join the piece of fabric, as well.
at the end of the night, jaebum is contemplating tasting alcohol for the first time. if he downs it all in one go would it make him forget? stories of chico and junior getting plastered, waking up the next morning remembering nothing but fuzz fill his mind. the idea becomes appealing and he's half-way out the door, and then he remembers where he was before.
his body slides against the slim wood of the doorframe, memories starting to filter into his mind one by one like slideshows. every time he breathes -- inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale -- jaebum can see junho's face flash, can see junho's everything. in his mind's eye, jaebum can see the way junho's body used to move, the way junho's face used to scrunch up in anger.
if jaebum closes his eyes, he sees junho's eyelids flutter close, remembers how junho stumbled over his apology
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jaebum/taekyeon, wc AU
"I gave you a life!" Jay yells at him, and Taek flinches slightly but remains silent despite the anger that swirls around the pit of his stomach. "I gave you your life back!"
And something in Taekyeon snaps at that, his eyes flick upwards toward Jay's face. "No," he yells at him, "you gave me your life, Jay!"
---
Jay is rambling again, saying things and things and even more things that are irrelevant to Taekyeon because he can't be bothered to process them. And then Jay says, "This isn't right, we're - no. You're you, I'm me - I'm a cop and you're a criminal--"
"Legal criminal," Taekyeon interrupts, "I'm chained to you for four years - your exact words--"
"I don't care," Jay says, fists clenching, "this isn't right."
Taekyeon hums low in his throat, takes a few steps forward and in just seconds has his fingers lightly brushing Jay's face. Jay closes his eyes when Taekyeon brings his face forward, closer, and he stops breathing because Jay whispers, "What about Seulong?"
Taekyeon kisses him.
---
"You said goodbye to everyone else except for me," Jay says, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, "why?"
Taekyeon is standing at the edge of the gateway, tall and just a tad intidmidating with his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. He takes a step back, twisting his foot so that he could turn and head for the jet. His eyes shift from Jay's face to the jet, picking out Seulong's face in the window.
"Why?"
"I don't know," Taekyeon answers finally.
"You don't know?"
before we leave this battle ground
junho/doojoon, war!fic au
Doojoon is drafted by the army before his twentieth birthday. His father hands him the letter at night, pride shining in his eyes. The envelope feels heavy, burning a hole in his desk where he places it. Doojoon lightly traces the creases in the envelope, unsure if he’s ready for this.
Whether or not he’s ready for anything, he has no choice.
*
He tells Junho a week later that he’s been drafted, that he’s leaving next month and he has to go because it’s expected of him.
“I kind of wish I could go, too,” Junho tells him as they walk home together from the corner store.
“Junho-”
“I know, I know,” Junho interrupts, smiling. “It’s not my fault. But you wouldn’t want to have this leg, would you?”
Doojoon remains silent because he knows if he continues along the lines of this conversation that it will get ugly.
“I want to go.” Junho’s tone is firm, determined and he looks at Doojoon. “I want to go with you.”
“You know that you can’t,” Doojoon replies softly. He stops walking and places his hand on Junho’s wrist. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pulls Junho towards him, wrapping arms around him.
Junho mouths liar into Doojoon’s shirt.
Doojoon pretends he doesn’t notice.
*
The days go by quickly and it’s suddenly a week until the day he’ll officially leave for the army. He doesn’t like talking about it, doesn’t like thinking about it but somehow everyone around him always brings it up. His father can’t stop talking about how proud he is, his son going into the army to fight for the country, the people, the government! His mother is constantly worrying, constantly on his case (are you really sure this is what you want? We could always find a way around this if you want, Doojoon-ah).
Then there’s Junho. Junho talks about it more than Doojoon’s parents combined and it irritates Doojoon the most. Junho can’t stop talking about everything that Doojoon will experience, can’t stop talking about all the friends Doojoon will make, can’t stop talking about how he’ll probably forget about Junho and his lame leg when he’s gone.
“Junho, shut up already!” Doojoon yells two nights before his departure. “Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!”
“What?”
“Stop talking like that,” Doojoon tells him as he tries to calm himself down.
They’re in his room, with Doojoon’s army clothes placed on the foot of the bed. Junho is on his stomach, fingers running over the stitching of the uniform as he talks and talks and talks about everything that makes Doojoon angry, uncomfortable, depressed.
“Talking like what?”
“I’m not going to forget you, Junho,” Doojoon says quietly, getting up from the chair by his desk.
The only light on in Doojoon’s room is a lamp on his desk, dimmed and flickering with age. Doojoon’s shadow gets smaller as he walks to Junho who is quiet, moving to a sitting position on Doojoon’s bed. He watches Doojoon approach with wary eyes.
“I’m not - I will never forget you, Junho.” Doojoon’s knees hit the edge of his bed, and he scoots forward onto the mattress. “Why do you talk like I’m going to forget who my best friend is?”
Junho swallows, wets his lips, looking away from Doojoon. Doojoon lightly runs his fingers over the length of Junho’s thigh - up, down, up, down, up. He pauses at Junho’s knee, index finger tracing invisible circle patterns.
“What if you do?” Junho chokes out, his voice hoarse and Doojoon’s head snaps up to seek out Junho’s eyes. “What if you forget about me? I won’t be with you everyday anymore, Doojoon. I’m stuck here in our little town with the younger boys who aren’t old enough to go to war yet, with the men who came back with scars and missing arms and legs, with the men who can’t go to war because they aren’t physically fit for it.” Junho wipes at his eyes. “You’re moving on with the rest of your life and I can’t because-”
Doojoon grabs Junho by his shoulders, bumps their noses awkwardly, crashing their lips together. Doojoon moves his lips against Junho’s, forces his tongue past Junho’s lips and teeth. His fingers wipe away Junho’s tears.
“I won’t forget about you, Junho.”
*
The day is finally here. Doojoon stares at the diesel powered locomotive that’s idling on the tracks. A part of Doojoon wants to turn around and run home, hide underneath his cotton blanket until the war is over. Doojoon swallows the pool of saliva that forms in his mouth as he looks over at his father, who’s looking around the train station like a little boy.
“I wish I could go with you, son,” he says, clapping a hand down on Doojoon’s shoulder. “But I know you’ll make me proud.”
Doojoon nods his head not saying a word. He’s sure that if he talks he’ll vomit.
“Doojoon-ah,” his mother starts with a shaky voice, “you have to write to us every day, okay? And call between meal times and-”
“Yobo, do you think he’ll have time to call every day, much less write?” His father glares at the petite woman next to him. “He’ll be too busy training with the other men in the army!”
“Yes, but-”
“Son, don’t call or write so much,” he tells Doojoon, “if you do it means you’re not busy enough.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good.” His father clears his throat, looking around the train station once more. “Where’s Junho? Isn’t he going to come and see you off?”
“I’m not sure, appa,” Doojoon replies, looking around for a familiar face hopefully. “He didn’t say if he was coming for sure.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t want to come either if I were Junho. It’d be embarrassing.”
“Appa, there’s nothing embarrassing about-”
“Of course there isn’t, Doojoon. But look around you-” he points to all the young soldiers that are with their parents gathering at the foot of the locomotive - “these young men are roughly around your age and are leaving for the army. Had it not been for Junho’s leg he would be right next to you, too.”
Doojoon purses his lips. “Appa, Junho’s leg is just fine now.”
“Yes, yes, of course it is. But it’s not healed enough so that he’s able to fight in the army.”
“That doesn’t matter, appa. Junho isn’t disabled-”
“Junho is a good kid, Doojoon. I’m just saying that his family must be embarrassed since he is their only son and no one can represent their family name in the-”
“Why would anyone be embarrassed about Junho? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”
“I am just saying, Doojoon that perhaps you need to reconsider your options when you come back-”
“Appa, I am not embarrassed by him!”
“I’ve noticed.” His father’s expression turns sour. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for what happened, Doojoon. You were just children after all and-”
“He’s my best friend!”
“Doojoon-ah-” and Doojoon closes his eyes, gripping on the straps of his bag tightly as he waits for his mother to come to his father’s defence again - “you’re father didn’t mean it that way. We all know that what happened with Junho was an accident that happened when you both were younger. Your father is just trying to tell you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for what’s happened, that’s all.”
Before Doojoon is able to reply the locomotive sounds and the bell is ringing loudly. Doojoon barely processes his father hugging him and telling him to make him proud, his mother is clutching onto him tightly. Both of their lips are moving and he’s pretty sure there are words coming out, but Doojoon can’t hear them. Doojoon doesn’t know how he ends up in his seat on the train, as settles into the hard cushion he realises he hasn’t seen Junho.
Doojoon’s upset that Junho doesn’t come to see off. The last time he’d seen him had been that night at his house. If Doojoon closes his eyes he can see Junho from two nights ago in his head. He can see Junho with wet eyes, with a rumpled shirt and quivering lips. He can see Junho trying to smile despite it all, even as Doojoon tries to kiss his worries away.
Looking out the window he watches as the remaining soldiers linger with their families and friends, some are parting from girlfriends and Doojoon’s stomach knots. He can see his mother trying to get to the train again and his father holding her back. And at that moment, something catches Doojoon’s eye.
There’s someone running towards the train but Doojoon recognizes this person, knows who it is without a second thought. Junho walks with a limp in his left leg, which is why his running is stunted, as well. Doojoon hurriedly gets to his feet, apologizing to his seatmates as he gets out of the compartment and runs to an exit. Doojoon is struggling to get off just as the remaining soldiers are entering.
When Doojoon is finally able to push past everyone the locomotive whistles and the bell is ringing again. Panic starts to set in because Doojoon still hasn’t seen Junho close enough to touch, close enough to say I’ll be back, I promise I’ll be back, close enough for their lips to come into contact for a brief second. It starts to sink in that this may be the last time he’ll see Junho for the rest of his life and he hasn’t seen him properly, hasn’t said goodbye the right way.
Doojoon is tempted to jump off the locomotive just as it starts to move slowly towards the army camp. His eyes widen and he clutches onto the open door handle tightly.
“Doojoon!”
He looks up to see Junho walking next to the train, smiling.
“Yah! Are you that surprised to see me?”
“What are you doing!” Doojoon shouts, finally finding his voice. “You can’t run, Junho! You’re leg-”
“Shut up! I haven’t run like that since we were fourteen!”
“There’s a reason for that!”
“Here, take this.”
Junho hands Doojoon a picture of himself. When Doojoon takes the picture in his hands he raises his eyebrows at Junho.
“It’s so you don’t forget me,” Junho states matter-of-factly.
“I told you, Junho. I could-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Junho waves a hand in the air, walking faster as the train is starting to pick up its pace. “You’ll never forget me, I’m your best friend - I know, Doojoon. I just wanted you to have something that reminded you of me.”
“So you give me a picture.”
“Yes.”
“Most people give things like necklaces or bracelets or-”
“I’m not a girl, you moron,” Junho hisses.
Doojoon smiles and reaches his hand out towards Junho, closing around the other’s hand tightly. He doesn’t care that they probably look ridiculous right now - holding hands while Doojoon is sitting on the steps of the train, Junho starting a slow jog, smiling up at him.
“I’m coming back, Junho, I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Junho says and pulls his hand out of Doojoon’s grasp, but Doojoon stops him, holding on tighter.
“I’ve never broken a promise to you, Junho. I promised you I’d take the blame for the accident, I promised you we’d still be best friends after what happened and I’m promising to come back for you.” Doojoon wets his lips nervously. “Please, Junho, tell me you believe me.”
“Doojoon, I-”
“Just say you believe me, damn it!”
“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Junho replies irately, his jog turning into a slow run.
“Good.” Doojoon brings his face closer to Junho’s hand, presses his lips to Junho’s knuckles softly, before letting it go.
“What the hell?” Junho stops running, looking at his hand dumbly. “I’m not a girl, asshole!”
Junho looks up, eyes widening when he realises that he’s so far behind. He starts running again to catch up with Doojoon, who is still sitting on the steps of the train.
“You’re such an asshole,” Junho says between pants. “What possessed you to do that? I’m not a girl.”
Doojoon shrugs and the train moves faster and faster and faster to the point where it’s no longer safe for him to sit on the steps. Grabbing onto the metal bar, Doojoon looks back to Junho who’s given up running. He waves to his best friend, grinning despite the sadness that pools in his stomach.
“Doojoon! Yah! Doojoon, you asshole you can’t even say goodbye!”
“I’m coming back, Junho!” Doojoon yells, waving an arm back and forth. “This isn’t goodbye! I’m coming back!”
*
When Doojoon gets to the army camp his nervousness turns into fear. He follows the rest of the men in his section to their dorm. The Sergeant is giving them orders: “Put your stuff away, men. Eat your first meal here and then rest. Tomorrow will be the first day you start living.”
The Sergeant then leaves and they’re all left alone, unsure of what to do. As the seconds tick by the other members in the dorm start to split and claim bunk beds. Doojoon follows their lead walking over to one of the beds near the window. He stands behind the person who’s claimed the bottom bunk of the bed that he wants, waiting for him to take notice. He doesn’t so Doojoon clears his throat awkwardly.
The person looks up, raising an eyebrow at him.
Doojoon points to the top bunk. “Mind if I take it?”
The other man shakes his head. “Go ahead.”
Doojoon manages a “thank you” and manoeuvres around to the other side of the bunk bed, dropping his bag in the little space between the corner of the wall and the bed. He looks around, confused, wondering where he’s supposed to put all his stuff.
“There’s storage space underneath the bunk,” someone says and Doojoon looks up, surprised. His bunkmate kicks the side of the bed and Doojoon hears a light thump. “It’s just two small drawers on each side.”
“Oh,” Doojoon say, “oh, thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Yoon Doojoon.” Doojoon sticks his hand out.
“Jang Wooyoung.” Wooyoung takes Doojoon’s offered hand.
“How old are you?”
“Just turned twenty,” Wooyoung tells him as he takes out clothes from his bag, folds them and puts them open drawer.
“No way! Really? Me too!”
Wooyoung looks up at him, surprised.
“Friends?” Doojoon asks hopefully.
Doojoon doesn’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyes quickly give him a once over, doesn’t miss how Wooyoung’s lips purse slightly and Doojoon ignores the way it makes him feel uncomfortable - unwanted.
“Friends.”
Wooyoung gives him a small smile.
*
Doojoon runs his hands over his newly shaved head for the umpteenth time. It feels weird, he thinks. His hair is now prickly to the touch and he feels like a weight has been lifted off his head. He does it again and again and again until he feels someone hit his shoulder.
“If you keep doing that you’ll be bald by the time you wake up tomorrow morning,” Wooyoung tells him, smirking slightly as he towels his hair dry.
“Feels weird though.” Doojoon frowns. “Don’t you feel weird?”
“No,” Wooyoung replies as he hangs his towel next to Doojoon’s on the railing of the top bunk. “I think this hairstyle suits me.” Wooyoung pauses and then says, “Well, I look good in anything basically.”
Doojoon snorts and climbs up to the top bunk. He pauses and looks down at Wooyoung who’s getting into bed.
“Are you scared?” Doojoon steps down on the ladder.
Wooyoung freezes in his place and Doojoon watches as his eyebrows come together, shoulders tensing and his lips purse.
“Are you?”
Doojoon doesn’t say anything; instead he climbs up the ladder again and settles into bed. The grey blanket is rough to the touch, slightly itchy but Doojoon can’t afford to complain now. He closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to claim him.
It doesn’t come.
Doojoon moves around in the bed, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. He’s wary about moving around so much, he doesn’t want to disturb Wooyoung beneath him. Doojoon sighs heavily as he lies on his side. He’s looking out the window and the blinds that are drawn are old, the white fading to brown slowly. In between the cracks of the blinds, Doojoon notices that it’s raining. He sees the droplets attach to the glass window and he’s tempted to reach his hand out, push past the blinds to trace the droplets’ pattern down the window pane.
He remembers the last time it rained and he and Junho were confined inside. He remembers being bored out of his mind but most of all; he remembers complicating things with Junho.
Doojoon is sitting on his bed with his back pressed against the wall, tuning in and out to Junho - who’s lying on the bed with his hands behind his head - rambling on and on about things he could care less about.
“Junho,” Doojoon interrupts, “can you shut up for a sec.”
And Junho does, for some reason unknown to Doojoon, Junho stops talking and turns his head towards him. In that moment Doojoon will lean forward onto his hands, and he’ll look Junho dead in the eyes. Doojoon’s eyes will run down the length of Junho’s face and neck, memorizing the dips and the curves before travelling back up to Junho’s lips. Doojoon bends his head down touching lips together hesitantly. And when Junho doesn’t even bat an eyelash, when Junho presses a hand to Doojoon’s neck to pull him closer, Doojoon will remember the way his heart beat in that moment - thump bump, swish.
*
Doojoon wakes up the next morning to the sound of a horn and Wooyoung hitting his head on the bunk. He blearily shucks away the blanket and climbs down the ladder.
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beast, ot6, super powers!au
Doojoon starts to worry when everyone else does. He doesn’t think much of the situation at first when Yunho gets sent to a special hospital where visitors aren’t permitted. His mind checks it off as Yunho being really sick, and no risks were to be taken. Doojoon soon forgets about it until he overhears Taeyeon and Minho outside the bathroom - something about Yunho being able to turn anything he touched into gold. He wants to ask about it and at the same time, wants to tell them that turning stuff into gold is impossible. But then he hears Taeyeon say, “I can stop time.”
He doesn’t know what Minho tells her; instead he walks out of the bathroom with a smile on his face. He bows at them quickly and hurries back to his dressing room. Doojoon’s mind is reeling as he remembers Changsun’s last text message: What happens when people start to fly? There’s no doubt in his mind that something’s happening, and he’s not sure if it’s good either.
Once he gets to the safety of BEAST’s dressing room Doojoon takes out his cell phone. His thumbs move quickly over the number pad, eyebrows drawn forward into a frown. Things are happening; this is a fact and not a figment of his imagination. What kind of things, though, he’s not sure. The only thing that his mind is able to comprehend is that it’s something big. His eyes linger for a long time on the darkened screen of his cell phone, before slipping it into his pocket. When he looks up the rest of his members are staring at him with varying expressions of concern.
“Something wrong?” Junhyung asks, and Doojoon’s not sure if he can tell them. Not with the cordi noonas in the room at least. He shakes his head, his eyes darting to one of the cordi noonas and then back to Junhyung. Junhyung gets the message because he nods his head, and the others don’t say anything.
They watch the little TV that’s set up in their room and it’s SHINee’s performance next. If Doojoon had averted his eyes for even one second he would’ve missed everything that happened next. Jinki is singing in the middle of the stage, pointing his finger at one of the fans in the audience who’s yelling and screaming. As Jinki lifts an arm slightly, he duplicates into two people. Doojoon rubs his eyes in disbelief; the loud shouts that can be heard outside in the hallway fade away as he watches Jinki duplicate even more - four, six, eight.
“Is this real?” He hears Kikwang say in a quiet voice next to him. “Am I dreaming? Is this some sort of special effect?”
But it couldn’t be - Doojoon knows this. Inkigayo is airing everything live. His eyes drift to the other people on the stage who isn’t Jinki, and the other SHINee members have stopped dancing and singing to stare at Jinki as he continues to duplicate himself. All the Jinkis on stage look confused, they’re mimicking each other’s moves, making it difficult to separate between the real Jinki and the fakes. And, just as quickly as the duplicates of Jinki appear on stage, they disappear.
The channel changes immediately. The last thing Doojoon sees is Jinki falling on the stage floor.
“Hyung,” Kikwang says, shaking his arm to get his attention, “hyung, what was that? What was that?”
Doojoon doesn’t get a chance to answer because the whole room erupts into chaos. The cordi noonas are talking so loudly, they might as well be yelling at the top of their lungs. Dongwoon is just as loud, and Kikwang averts his attention from Doojoon to Dongwoon and Yoseob.
His cell phone vibrates in his pocket and he takes it out.
Changsun (15:30): not really leader.
Doojoon swallows the lump in his throat. Changsun is clever when he wants to be, Doojoon supposes, as he gets up from the chair to grab a water bottle from the table. Changsun’s text only confirms his thoughts: something big is happening, and all the leaders are involved. His eyes sweep over the entirety of the dressing room, taking in the occupants and his members. Clutching tightly at his water bottle, Doojoon can only think of his turn. His turn for what though? He doesn’t know, and the thought alone is more terrifying than anything else he’s ever faced.
The door to their dressing room opens, slamming behind their manager. Doojoon immediately rushes over to him.
“Hyung, what’s going on?”
“We’re going home,” he says, motions for everyone to start packing up. “Hurry up and get changed. Everyone is going home because the program’s been cancelled.”
“Okay,” Doojoon replies, “okay. Is that it? Anything else?”
“That’s it,” he tells Doojoon with a helpless shrug of his shoulders, “I don’t know anything else.”
“All right.” Doojoon turns his back on him and begins to undress himself. Everyone in the room is silent, but the others follow his lead and start to change out of their performance outfits.
As he changes Doojoon thinks about everything that’s happened. Taeyeon can stop time, Yunho has the Midas touch, Jinki can duplicate himself and Seungho can fly. His mind numbs as soon as he realises that everyone is getting a superpower. He puts his t-shirt on backwards, noticing only because Junhyung tells him his shirt is inside out. Doojoon gives his head a shake, an attempt to clear his mind but it doesn’t work. Even as they head out toward the van, Doojoon can’t seem to wrap his mind around it. Superpowers? No, it’s impossible.
Lifting his eyes from the floor he notices Taeyeon and the other SNSD members file out of their dressing rooms, sombre looks on their faces. Taeyeon looks at him then, locking her eyes with his. Doojoon doesn’t know what to do, so he smiles at her - an awkward curve of lips, a slight tilt of his head forward. She returns the gesture, lifting her hand to her ear to tuck stray hair strands behind it. It’s at that moment Doojoon notices the cell phone that’s clutched tightly between her fingers. And for one brief second, he feels possessed as his hand fishes into his jean pockets of its own accord to take out his cell phone. He is playing with it as he walks by her, and once he pushes past the backdoors of the building his cell phone is tucked safely into his pocket.
The mood in the van isn’t a good one, but Doojoon is too tired and scared to care. He leans his head against Junhyung’s, half expecting the other man to shrug him off but he doesn’t. He’s grateful for his band member’s understanding, and slips his arms around Junhyung’s, pulling him closer.
“If you think,” Junhyung starts, his voice quiet so that only Doojoon and perhaps Yoseob on his other side can hear, “that you’re going to get away with not telling me what you know, I will throw you out of this van.”
Doojoon smiles against Junhyung’s shoulder, murmuring, “Let me sleep.”
Junhyung opens his mouth to protest but Yoseob speaks before he’s given the chance to. “Only because you look tired.”
Doojoon doesn’t have to look up to know that Junhyung and Yoseob are glaring at each other. He tries not to snicker when Junhyung sighs heavily, because Yoseob wins - Yoseob always wins.
“Fine,” Junhyung tells him. “But when we get home you’re telling me everything.”
Doojoon nods his head in response. Junhyung’s been like this for a while, he notes, ever since Doojoon announced that he’d be his second in command. Junhyung demands to know things that only leaders should know about, things like Yunho being sent to the hospital and the rumours. Junhyung doesn’t know that Doojoon’s only heard of such things because people like to talk, because there are others who are scared, because Yunho may have been the first one to be found out by other entertainment companies doesn’t mean that this is the first time it’s happened. Doojoon doesn’t tell Junhyung those things. The reason is mostly because Junhyung panics when the balance of order is disturbed and mostly because Doojoon doesn’t want to believe them himself.
The silence that fills the van doesn’t last long.
“That was … interesting,” Hyunseung says from the front seat.
“It was scary,” Kikwang says with a shake of his head. “It was beyond … scary.”
Yoseob hums in agreement. “I wonder what’s going to happen to him.”
“Do you think it’ll be bad?” Dongwoon turns his body around to face the other three sitting in the back. Doojoon has his eyes opened now, there’s no way he’ll be able to fall asleep now.
“Who knows?” Junhyung answers and Doojoon lifts his head to look out the window. “Just be thankful it’s not you.”
It takes everything in Doojoon to not shudder.
*
He slumps against the closed door of the bathroom, taking out his cell phone. Opening his inbox he takes a deep breath and then looks at the bright, coloured screen.
It’s time.
*
The company puts them on lockdown without any explanation, leaving Kikwang and Junhyung to think of conspiracy theories that silently drives Doojoon crazy. Eventually the rest of the band joins in except for Doojoon. He spends more time making phone calls in the middle of the night, texting in the bathroom with the door locked where no one can see him. He takes his cell phone everywhere, making sure it does not leave his side - no, it can’t.
It’s time the text message said, it’s time it’s time it’s time it’s time it’s time. Doojoon didn’t get a text message like this the last time, but he’d been there when Jihyun did. He remembers how scared she’d been, remembers how hysterical she was and then she cried, cried on his shoulder and all he could do for her was pat her awkwardly on the back. Doojoon shouldn’t have seen the text message the first time. Sometimes he wonders if he was chosen to be a leader over Kikwang because of the text message, not because of age.
Sometimes, Doojoon thinks it’s because of him that Jaebum hyung left, because he read something that was supposed to be kept secret. He read something that was exclusive between the leaders of the idol bands, he read something classified.
Junho tells him every time that it’s not his fault, that everything only turned out the way it did because God willed it to be that way. Except, that’s not what Taekyeon’s eyes tell him - Taekyeon knows its Doojoon’s fault, knows that if Doojoon hadn’t found out Jaebum hyung would still be here - still be in 2PM.
But Junho is stubborn, tells him that this is what God wanted, this is the path that He set out for them to follow.
Junho can breathe fire like a dragon.
Doojoon wants to ask where his God was now. Instead he doesn’t reply to Junho’s text message, just brushes off another one of Junhyung’s attempts to know, but Doojoon can’t let him - anyone know.
*
He’s on edge now because Jihyun is gone. Their manager stops by to drop off food and his face is pale with dark circles under his eyes. He tells them that Jihyun is gone, that the same ambulance that took Jinki had taken her too. It takes everyone in the apartment to convince Hyunseung to stay where he is, to stay at home and not go after her because it’s too dangerous to go outside.
“Hyung, please,” Hyunseung is on his knees, shoulders shaking because he’s crying, because he’s angry and frustrated and he can’t do anything about it, “please let me bring her back! They … they can’t take her, she’s not sick!”
“I’m sorry,” Jiyong says helplessly. “Hyunseung-ah, you know I’d let you go if I could-”
“Then let me go!” Hyunseung screams, voice cracking as he chokes on a sob.
“Hyunseung!” Doojoon steps forward this time, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset but show some respect.”
“It’s okay, Doojoon-ah, it’s - I - ah - understand.”
“Hyung, you have to let me go.”
“I’m sorry, Hyunseung-ah. You’re quarantined here just like everyone else.”
When Jiyong leaves, Doojoon tightens his grip on Hyunseung’s shoulder. “If you go after her you don’t care about your members. This band, this group comes first before she does. Understand? Don’t be rash about this, Hyunseung-ah. Jihyun is sick that’s all.”
Hyunseung shoves Doojoon’s hand off his shoulder, standing up to look at Doojoon square in the eye. “She’s your friend too, Doojoon! Don’t you care about her at all?”
“I care about this band too, Hyunseung.”
Hyunseung doesn’t say anything to him, shoves past him, knocking their shoulders together purposely that causes Doojoon to stumble backward.
“Hyunseung! Hyunseung!” Yoseob gives Doojoon a look out of the corner of his eye, then shakes his head, following after Hyunseung with Dongwoon and Junhyung on his heels.
Kikwang stays behind, looking at Doojoon like he’s alien - grown another head. “That was really mean.”
And then Doojoon is alone, alone as he walks to the bathroom and closes the door. He covers his hand to hide the sob that comes out of his mouth when the lock on the door clicks. They’d taken Jihyun too.
He takes out his cell phone and there’s a text message from Jihyun.
I know what you’re thinking, I’ll be fine.
Doojoon knows that she won’t be fine, though. Jihyun scares easily - and wherever she’s going, she’s going to be forced to talk. Forced to tell what she knows. And when Jihyun panics, she lets things slip, lets things slip that people don’t say out loud. To her though, it may as well have been said out loud.
Even if Jihyun knows things, it doesn’t mean she’ll be fine.
Doojoon is scared. He wants to tell the others everything - how this all started, why everyone is being taken away … but he can’t.
The leaders have to stick together.
Doojoon made a promise.
*
Hyunseung doesn’t talk to him after that. He only listens to his orders after having to repeat them a few times, but afterwards that’s it. Hyunseung blames Doojoon for everything that’s happened - or will happen. He’s angry that Doojoon made him choose between friends and the girl he cares about, so angry that Doojoon doesn’t care. All Doojoon cares about is that everyone is safe, safe with him.
He doesn’t know how much time he has left with them, because it could be his turn soon. Things could happen and then he’d get taken away and where would that leave them? No, Doojoon can’t be taken away. If things happen he has to be discreet like Taeyeon, like Jiyong, like Seungho. No one can take him away from them, they need to be protected.
And then his worst nightmare happens.
Kikwang can make himself invisible.
*
“No!” Doojoon screams at the top of his lungs. “No! No! No! No! This wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen!”
Everyone is sitting on the couch, watching him pace the length of the living room, hands running through his hair.
“Hyung, this isn’t that bad! This is actually pretty damn cool!” Kikwang is grinning, and then closes his eyes and he’s invisible again. Yoseob reaches over to punch him in the stomach and Kikwang yelps, reappearing moments afterwards, clutching his stomach.
“So fucking cool,” Junhyung breaths, mesmerised.
“No! It’s not fucking cool at all,” Doojoon yells at all of them. “God, this wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen.”
“It’s all right, man,” Junhyung says, “take a damn chill pill, all right? It’s not like we’re going to tell anyone what Kikwang can do.”
“Are you serious? C’mon, can’t I at least show Siyoon hyung?”
“No!” Doojoon stalks toward Kikwang, grabbing him by his shoulders. “Kikwang, you can’t tell anyone about this! You weren’t even supposed to have this - this - power yet. Kikwang, listen to me, you can’t fucking trust anyone who’s not in this band, ok? Not even Jiyong hyung, or any of the other managers, ok? No one’s supposed to know.”
“Can’t I at least tell my parents?”
“Doojoon, calm the fuck down.” Junhyung is grabbing at his wrist but Doojoon shoves him away.
“No, not even your parents, Kikwang! This is serious! This is fucking serious, ok!”
Doojoon’s never seen Kikwang look so scared and he’s partly to blame for that, but Doojoon doesn’t care. He crushes Kikwang’s body against his, his arms tightening around Kikwang’s body. He’s failed, Doojoon thinks, he failed protecting his own group.
“I’m so sorry,” Doojoon mumbles into Kikwang’s shoulder, “I couldn’t protect you, I couldn’t - I couldn’t protect you from … from this.”
“Hyung? Hyung? Doojoon, are you crying?”
Doojoon feels Kikwang try to pull away from him but he just holds on tighter. This is his fault, if he’d never seen the text message from Jihyun last year, then he’d never be appointed leader. Kikwang would be leader, he’d be able to protect everyone with his power and -
Kikwang’s arms curl around Doojoon’s shoulders, a hand flitting through his hair. “Hyung, it’s all right. I’ll be okay, I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”
this crazy thing they call love
junsu/wooyoung
It all begins with fingertips pressing light and deep into his chest, tracing promises within his heart. Junsu grabs onto Wooyoung’s wrist, soft but firm and pulls it away from the heat in his chest. He smiles hesitantly and shakes his head.
“I - I can’t.”
*
All Junsu can think about these days is Wooyoung. Wooyoung and how he gives Junsu small, reassuring smiles and equally reassuring hand squeezing backstage before a performance. Junsu thinks about Wooyoung and the promises that make his heart speed up and slow down at the same time; it shouldn’t even be physically possible.
Yet it is. It is because Junsu finds himself standing outside on the balcony with Wooyoung. He moves in close from behind, lacing their fingers together as quickly as possible without turning to look at him.
“Let’s take this slow,” he whispers biting his lip as he looks down at his feet.
*
Junsu wants to go fast and slow at the same time. He thinks these thoughts late at night with his hands behind his head. He wants to speed things up because god, the way Wooyoung’s lips move against his is thrilling - the blood rush and the dizziness he gets from feeling Wooyoung’s heated skin against his makes him excited.
He turns onto his side, smiling into his pillow as he thinks about the first time. Junsu thinks about the way their noses bumped awkwardly in the dark, how their teeth clunked dangerously at first and Wooyoung’s tongue hesitant and sweeping over the small cracks on Junsu’s lips. Junsu’s smile turns into a grin as he remembers the last time. Wooyoung pressed up against a wall and Junsu’s knee between two legs. Junsu is fingering the waistband of Wooyoung’s sweats, hesitant. His teeth graze the length of Wooyoung’s neck and in the end his fingers go up Wooyoung’s shirt.
Junsu’s not ready for that yet.
*
There are things about Wooyoung that Junsu likes. Things like his cheeks and his eyes, the way his hair tickles Junsu’s nose in the dark as they lie in Junsu’s bed together with clasped hands.
untitled
taekyeon/chansung
Chansung is walking away from the tent, his thumb and forefinger tracing the edges of the card in his hand. He only visited the lady for kicks - he’s not the type of person to believe in horoscopes or fortune tellers, but he can’t get her words out of his head. As he crosses the street with his hood pulled tightly around him, he can still hear the way her tongue curls around informal words - what if you had control of your own destiny? Struggling with the keys in his hand he feels it go cold, feels her pressing the card into his hand and its edges pushing into his skin.
He’s going to kill Wooyoung later for telling him to go to the fortune teller.
*
For a while Chansung forgets about the card that’s stuffed into his sock drawer. However, all good things come to an end when he finds the card on the kitchen counter being used as a coaster. Taekyeon walks in then, towelling off his damp hair and just as he passes by, Chansung hooks his fingers around Taekyeon’s wrist.
“Hyung, where did the card come from?”
“What?” Taekyeon looks around and when his eyes land on the card he shrugs his shoulders. “No idea, ask Wooyoung? Or Khun! Isn’t he on laundry duty?”
Chansung nods and lets go of Taekyeon who absently pats him on the shoulder, opening the door of the fridge. Chansung moves the glass over, taking the pale card, yellowed with age, from the counter. He absently traces the water stains around the inside of the circular design. The card gets stuffed into his pocket, leaving it there for the whole day. And for the whole day the card is fire, burning his skin and his mind.
Nichkhun is sending him funny looks when he stares blankly at the interviewer whose mouth is opening and closing, but the words aren’t processing. Chansung shrugs at Nichkhun in response, turns around to ask the interviewer to repeat herself. When they get home, Chansung is waving off Junsu who thinks he’s an interrogator with all the questions he’s firing at him.
“I said I don’t know,” Chansung says finally, throwing his hands up into the air and Junsu has his arms crossed. “It’s a bad day, okay?”
“You’ve been like this lately, Chansung, it’s not just today-”
“And I said I was sorry-”
“Just because you say sorry doesn’t mean anything!” Junsu runs a hand over his face, sighing and Taekyeon is giving Chansung signals from behind Junsu. “Chansung-”
And Chansung has had enough of this conversation so he says something that makes Junsu shut up. “You’re not Jaebum hyung.” The apartment falls silent and Taekyeon is looking at him with wide eyes and Nichkhun is standing off to the side awkwardly, Wooyoung’s fingers are paused over the number pad of his cell phone, Junho is bending over his shoes again in an attempt to re-untie them and Junsu is opening and closing his mouth with no words. Chansung takes a deep breath and says, “So stop acting like you’re him.”
whether or not these will be continued is really up in the air right now, but i've basically fallen out of fandom.
untitled
taekyeon/jaebum
Jaebum doesn’t even bat an eyelash when Taekyeon pops into his room out of thin air.
“You’re late,” he tells him with a frown.
“Something came up.” Taekyeon smiles at him, big and wide and honest as he dusts the lint off his plaid shirt. “Sorry, I’ll make it up to you next time.”
Jaebum rolls his eyes and doesn’t reply. He knows that Taekyeon is telling the truth, it’s obvious from the way he flops down onto Jaebum’s bed, curling up into a ball.
“I’m so tired, Jay,” he mumbles into the pillow, gathering Jaebum’s blue blankets around him. “Let me sleep for ten minutes and then we can go over the workout schedule.”
Jaebum wants to say no, wants to tell Taekyeon to get off his lazy ass and to start doing push ups but he doesn’t. Taekyeon’s fallen asleep if his snores are anything to go by, so Jaebum curls up next to Taekyeon in his bed. He falls asleep to the sound of Taekyeon’s soft breathing and heavy snores. And as he lets sleep take over him, Jaebum can’t help but think that it’s been a while since he’s felt at peace.
He wakes up the next morning to an empty bed.
*
“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Taekyeon asks him one night as they sit on the floor of Jaebum’s room, leaning against the wall.
“What? That you teleport here every other night to work out?”
“Okay, besides that.” Taekyeon unscrews the water bottle Jaebum hands him and gulps it down. “Dude, we have powers.”
“Not really. The only ones who can do anything cool are you, me and Wooyoung.” Jaebum shrugs and pulls the towel over his head. “The others have nothing.”
untitled
jay/khun, anyband AU sequel
Nichkhun knows that this meeting is going downhill right when the new comer - what’s his name again? Jiyong? - slams his coffee mug forcefully on the kitchen table. By now, they should have gotten used to these random outbursts of anger from him but even still, Nichkhun is flinching in shock.
“Are you insulting me?” Jiyong asks, narrowing his eyes at Jaebum.
“No,” Jaebum replies, sighing, “I’m just saying that maybe it’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a perfect idea!”
“Not quite-”
“Listen, I know you know all this political bullshit that’s going on but trust me on this one,” Jiyong says as he leans forward on the table, inching his face closer to Jaebum. “She’ll break down once we play my songs up on the roofs and-”
“It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
Jiyong’s eyebrows furrow as his nostrils flare, which causes Nichkhun to bring a hand up to squeeze Jaebum’s shoulder. “Look, I’ve given you all the evidence that you need in that backs me up on this. What more do you want?”
“There’s no basis for the research, Jiyong-sshi. Everything sounds nice on paper but when you put theory into practice how are you going to assure me that it’s going to work out?”
“It just will! All you need to know is in black and white-”
“Just because it looks good on paper doesn’t mean it’ll work in the real world.” Jaebum shakes his head, Jiyong moving to sit in the last available seat next to Junsu. “I’m sorry.”
Nichkhun is silent as Jiyong rolls his eyes, shrugging off Jaebum’s decision with his shoulders. The rest of the room is silent, waiting for Jaebum to bring up the next topic of discussion.
It’s been three months since the two of them had escaped from the city prison and a lot has changed since then. The most drastic change had been Jaebum taking over his mother’s position as one of the leaders of the Rebellion. The first month and a half had been a constant power struggle between the two. Jung Jooyeon kept pushing more and more responsibility onto Jaebum, whereas the latter did not want it. After much pushing and pushing
untitled
jay/junho
at the end of the night, jaebum loosens the tie that suffocated him for the few hours of the funeral. he tosses it onto his bed, then takes off his belt, flinging it to join the piece of fabric, as well.
at the end of the night, jaebum is contemplating tasting alcohol for the first time. if he downs it all in one go would it make him forget? stories of chico and junior getting plastered, waking up the next morning remembering nothing but fuzz fill his mind. the idea becomes appealing and he's half-way out the door, and then he remembers where he was before.
his body slides against the slim wood of the doorframe, memories starting to filter into his mind one by one like slideshows. every time he breathes -- inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale -- jaebum can see junho's face flash, can see junho's everything. in his mind's eye, jaebum can see the way junho's body used to move, the way junho's face used to scrunch up in anger.
if jaebum closes his eyes, he sees junho's eyelids flutter close, remembers how junho stumbled over his apology
untitled
jaebum/taekyeon, wc AU
"I gave you a life!" Jay yells at him, and Taek flinches slightly but remains silent despite the anger that swirls around the pit of his stomach. "I gave you your life back!"
And something in Taekyeon snaps at that, his eyes flick upwards toward Jay's face. "No," he yells at him, "you gave me your life, Jay!"
---
Jay is rambling again, saying things and things and even more things that are irrelevant to Taekyeon because he can't be bothered to process them. And then Jay says, "This isn't right, we're - no. You're you, I'm me - I'm a cop and you're a criminal--"
"Legal criminal," Taekyeon interrupts, "I'm chained to you for four years - your exact words--"
"I don't care," Jay says, fists clenching, "this isn't right."
Taekyeon hums low in his throat, takes a few steps forward and in just seconds has his fingers lightly brushing Jay's face. Jay closes his eyes when Taekyeon brings his face forward, closer, and he stops breathing because Jay whispers, "What about Seulong?"
Taekyeon kisses him.
---
"You said goodbye to everyone else except for me," Jay says, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, "why?"
Taekyeon is standing at the edge of the gateway, tall and just a tad intidmidating with his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. He takes a step back, twisting his foot so that he could turn and head for the jet. His eyes shift from Jay's face to the jet, picking out Seulong's face in the window.
"Why?"
"I don't know," Taekyeon answers finally.
"You don't know?"
before we leave this battle ground
junho/doojoon, war!fic au
Doojoon is drafted by the army before his twentieth birthday. His father hands him the letter at night, pride shining in his eyes. The envelope feels heavy, burning a hole in his desk where he places it. Doojoon lightly traces the creases in the envelope, unsure if he’s ready for this.
Whether or not he’s ready for anything, he has no choice.
*
He tells Junho a week later that he’s been drafted, that he’s leaving next month and he has to go because it’s expected of him.
“I kind of wish I could go, too,” Junho tells him as they walk home together from the corner store.
“Junho-”
“I know, I know,” Junho interrupts, smiling. “It’s not my fault. But you wouldn’t want to have this leg, would you?”
Doojoon remains silent because he knows if he continues along the lines of this conversation that it will get ugly.
“I want to go.” Junho’s tone is firm, determined and he looks at Doojoon. “I want to go with you.”
“You know that you can’t,” Doojoon replies softly. He stops walking and places his hand on Junho’s wrist. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pulls Junho towards him, wrapping arms around him.
Junho mouths liar into Doojoon’s shirt.
Doojoon pretends he doesn’t notice.
*
The days go by quickly and it’s suddenly a week until the day he’ll officially leave for the army. He doesn’t like talking about it, doesn’t like thinking about it but somehow everyone around him always brings it up. His father can’t stop talking about how proud he is, his son going into the army to fight for the country, the people, the government! His mother is constantly worrying, constantly on his case (are you really sure this is what you want? We could always find a way around this if you want, Doojoon-ah).
Then there’s Junho. Junho talks about it more than Doojoon’s parents combined and it irritates Doojoon the most. Junho can’t stop talking about everything that Doojoon will experience, can’t stop talking about all the friends Doojoon will make, can’t stop talking about how he’ll probably forget about Junho and his lame leg when he’s gone.
“Junho, shut up already!” Doojoon yells two nights before his departure. “Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!”
“What?”
“Stop talking like that,” Doojoon tells him as he tries to calm himself down.
They’re in his room, with Doojoon’s army clothes placed on the foot of the bed. Junho is on his stomach, fingers running over the stitching of the uniform as he talks and talks and talks about everything that makes Doojoon angry, uncomfortable, depressed.
“Talking like what?”
“I’m not going to forget you, Junho,” Doojoon says quietly, getting up from the chair by his desk.
The only light on in Doojoon’s room is a lamp on his desk, dimmed and flickering with age. Doojoon’s shadow gets smaller as he walks to Junho who is quiet, moving to a sitting position on Doojoon’s bed. He watches Doojoon approach with wary eyes.
“I’m not - I will never forget you, Junho.” Doojoon’s knees hit the edge of his bed, and he scoots forward onto the mattress. “Why do you talk like I’m going to forget who my best friend is?”
Junho swallows, wets his lips, looking away from Doojoon. Doojoon lightly runs his fingers over the length of Junho’s thigh - up, down, up, down, up. He pauses at Junho’s knee, index finger tracing invisible circle patterns.
“What if you do?” Junho chokes out, his voice hoarse and Doojoon’s head snaps up to seek out Junho’s eyes. “What if you forget about me? I won’t be with you everyday anymore, Doojoon. I’m stuck here in our little town with the younger boys who aren’t old enough to go to war yet, with the men who came back with scars and missing arms and legs, with the men who can’t go to war because they aren’t physically fit for it.” Junho wipes at his eyes. “You’re moving on with the rest of your life and I can’t because-”
Doojoon grabs Junho by his shoulders, bumps their noses awkwardly, crashing their lips together. Doojoon moves his lips against Junho’s, forces his tongue past Junho’s lips and teeth. His fingers wipe away Junho’s tears.
“I won’t forget about you, Junho.”
*
The day is finally here. Doojoon stares at the diesel powered locomotive that’s idling on the tracks. A part of Doojoon wants to turn around and run home, hide underneath his cotton blanket until the war is over. Doojoon swallows the pool of saliva that forms in his mouth as he looks over at his father, who’s looking around the train station like a little boy.
“I wish I could go with you, son,” he says, clapping a hand down on Doojoon’s shoulder. “But I know you’ll make me proud.”
Doojoon nods his head not saying a word. He’s sure that if he talks he’ll vomit.
“Doojoon-ah,” his mother starts with a shaky voice, “you have to write to us every day, okay? And call between meal times and-”
“Yobo, do you think he’ll have time to call every day, much less write?” His father glares at the petite woman next to him. “He’ll be too busy training with the other men in the army!”
“Yes, but-”
“Son, don’t call or write so much,” he tells Doojoon, “if you do it means you’re not busy enough.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good.” His father clears his throat, looking around the train station once more. “Where’s Junho? Isn’t he going to come and see you off?”
“I’m not sure, appa,” Doojoon replies, looking around for a familiar face hopefully. “He didn’t say if he was coming for sure.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t want to come either if I were Junho. It’d be embarrassing.”
“Appa, there’s nothing embarrassing about-”
“Of course there isn’t, Doojoon. But look around you-” he points to all the young soldiers that are with their parents gathering at the foot of the locomotive - “these young men are roughly around your age and are leaving for the army. Had it not been for Junho’s leg he would be right next to you, too.”
Doojoon purses his lips. “Appa, Junho’s leg is just fine now.”
“Yes, yes, of course it is. But it’s not healed enough so that he’s able to fight in the army.”
“That doesn’t matter, appa. Junho isn’t disabled-”
“Junho is a good kid, Doojoon. I’m just saying that his family must be embarrassed since he is their only son and no one can represent their family name in the-”
“Why would anyone be embarrassed about Junho? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”
“I am just saying, Doojoon that perhaps you need to reconsider your options when you come back-”
“Appa, I am not embarrassed by him!”
“I’ve noticed.” His father’s expression turns sour. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for what happened, Doojoon. You were just children after all and-”
“He’s my best friend!”
“Doojoon-ah-” and Doojoon closes his eyes, gripping on the straps of his bag tightly as he waits for his mother to come to his father’s defence again - “you’re father didn’t mean it that way. We all know that what happened with Junho was an accident that happened when you both were younger. Your father is just trying to tell you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for what’s happened, that’s all.”
Before Doojoon is able to reply the locomotive sounds and the bell is ringing loudly. Doojoon barely processes his father hugging him and telling him to make him proud, his mother is clutching onto him tightly. Both of their lips are moving and he’s pretty sure there are words coming out, but Doojoon can’t hear them. Doojoon doesn’t know how he ends up in his seat on the train, as settles into the hard cushion he realises he hasn’t seen Junho.
Doojoon’s upset that Junho doesn’t come to see off. The last time he’d seen him had been that night at his house. If Doojoon closes his eyes he can see Junho from two nights ago in his head. He can see Junho with wet eyes, with a rumpled shirt and quivering lips. He can see Junho trying to smile despite it all, even as Doojoon tries to kiss his worries away.
Looking out the window he watches as the remaining soldiers linger with their families and friends, some are parting from girlfriends and Doojoon’s stomach knots. He can see his mother trying to get to the train again and his father holding her back. And at that moment, something catches Doojoon’s eye.
There’s someone running towards the train but Doojoon recognizes this person, knows who it is without a second thought. Junho walks with a limp in his left leg, which is why his running is stunted, as well. Doojoon hurriedly gets to his feet, apologizing to his seatmates as he gets out of the compartment and runs to an exit. Doojoon is struggling to get off just as the remaining soldiers are entering.
When Doojoon is finally able to push past everyone the locomotive whistles and the bell is ringing again. Panic starts to set in because Doojoon still hasn’t seen Junho close enough to touch, close enough to say I’ll be back, I promise I’ll be back, close enough for their lips to come into contact for a brief second. It starts to sink in that this may be the last time he’ll see Junho for the rest of his life and he hasn’t seen him properly, hasn’t said goodbye the right way.
Doojoon is tempted to jump off the locomotive just as it starts to move slowly towards the army camp. His eyes widen and he clutches onto the open door handle tightly.
“Doojoon!”
He looks up to see Junho walking next to the train, smiling.
“Yah! Are you that surprised to see me?”
“What are you doing!” Doojoon shouts, finally finding his voice. “You can’t run, Junho! You’re leg-”
“Shut up! I haven’t run like that since we were fourteen!”
“There’s a reason for that!”
“Here, take this.”
Junho hands Doojoon a picture of himself. When Doojoon takes the picture in his hands he raises his eyebrows at Junho.
“It’s so you don’t forget me,” Junho states matter-of-factly.
“I told you, Junho. I could-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Junho waves a hand in the air, walking faster as the train is starting to pick up its pace. “You’ll never forget me, I’m your best friend - I know, Doojoon. I just wanted you to have something that reminded you of me.”
“So you give me a picture.”
“Yes.”
“Most people give things like necklaces or bracelets or-”
“I’m not a girl, you moron,” Junho hisses.
Doojoon smiles and reaches his hand out towards Junho, closing around the other’s hand tightly. He doesn’t care that they probably look ridiculous right now - holding hands while Doojoon is sitting on the steps of the train, Junho starting a slow jog, smiling up at him.
“I’m coming back, Junho, I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Junho says and pulls his hand out of Doojoon’s grasp, but Doojoon stops him, holding on tighter.
“I’ve never broken a promise to you, Junho. I promised you I’d take the blame for the accident, I promised you we’d still be best friends after what happened and I’m promising to come back for you.” Doojoon wets his lips nervously. “Please, Junho, tell me you believe me.”
“Doojoon, I-”
“Just say you believe me, damn it!”
“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Junho replies irately, his jog turning into a slow run.
“Good.” Doojoon brings his face closer to Junho’s hand, presses his lips to Junho’s knuckles softly, before letting it go.
“What the hell?” Junho stops running, looking at his hand dumbly. “I’m not a girl, asshole!”
Junho looks up, eyes widening when he realises that he’s so far behind. He starts running again to catch up with Doojoon, who is still sitting on the steps of the train.
“You’re such an asshole,” Junho says between pants. “What possessed you to do that? I’m not a girl.”
Doojoon shrugs and the train moves faster and faster and faster to the point where it’s no longer safe for him to sit on the steps. Grabbing onto the metal bar, Doojoon looks back to Junho who’s given up running. He waves to his best friend, grinning despite the sadness that pools in his stomach.
“Doojoon! Yah! Doojoon, you asshole you can’t even say goodbye!”
“I’m coming back, Junho!” Doojoon yells, waving an arm back and forth. “This isn’t goodbye! I’m coming back!”
*
When Doojoon gets to the army camp his nervousness turns into fear. He follows the rest of the men in his section to their dorm. The Sergeant is giving them orders: “Put your stuff away, men. Eat your first meal here and then rest. Tomorrow will be the first day you start living.”
The Sergeant then leaves and they’re all left alone, unsure of what to do. As the seconds tick by the other members in the dorm start to split and claim bunk beds. Doojoon follows their lead walking over to one of the beds near the window. He stands behind the person who’s claimed the bottom bunk of the bed that he wants, waiting for him to take notice. He doesn’t so Doojoon clears his throat awkwardly.
The person looks up, raising an eyebrow at him.
Doojoon points to the top bunk. “Mind if I take it?”
The other man shakes his head. “Go ahead.”
Doojoon manages a “thank you” and manoeuvres around to the other side of the bunk bed, dropping his bag in the little space between the corner of the wall and the bed. He looks around, confused, wondering where he’s supposed to put all his stuff.
“There’s storage space underneath the bunk,” someone says and Doojoon looks up, surprised. His bunkmate kicks the side of the bed and Doojoon hears a light thump. “It’s just two small drawers on each side.”
“Oh,” Doojoon say, “oh, thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Yoon Doojoon.” Doojoon sticks his hand out.
“Jang Wooyoung.” Wooyoung takes Doojoon’s offered hand.
“How old are you?”
“Just turned twenty,” Wooyoung tells him as he takes out clothes from his bag, folds them and puts them open drawer.
“No way! Really? Me too!”
Wooyoung looks up at him, surprised.
“Friends?” Doojoon asks hopefully.
Doojoon doesn’t miss the way Wooyoung’s eyes quickly give him a once over, doesn’t miss how Wooyoung’s lips purse slightly and Doojoon ignores the way it makes him feel uncomfortable - unwanted.
“Friends.”
Wooyoung gives him a small smile.
*
Doojoon runs his hands over his newly shaved head for the umpteenth time. It feels weird, he thinks. His hair is now prickly to the touch and he feels like a weight has been lifted off his head. He does it again and again and again until he feels someone hit his shoulder.
“If you keep doing that you’ll be bald by the time you wake up tomorrow morning,” Wooyoung tells him, smirking slightly as he towels his hair dry.
“Feels weird though.” Doojoon frowns. “Don’t you feel weird?”
“No,” Wooyoung replies as he hangs his towel next to Doojoon’s on the railing of the top bunk. “I think this hairstyle suits me.” Wooyoung pauses and then says, “Well, I look good in anything basically.”
Doojoon snorts and climbs up to the top bunk. He pauses and looks down at Wooyoung who’s getting into bed.
“Are you scared?” Doojoon steps down on the ladder.
Wooyoung freezes in his place and Doojoon watches as his eyebrows come together, shoulders tensing and his lips purse.
“Are you?”
Doojoon doesn’t say anything; instead he climbs up the ladder again and settles into bed. The grey blanket is rough to the touch, slightly itchy but Doojoon can’t afford to complain now. He closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to claim him.
It doesn’t come.
Doojoon moves around in the bed, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. He’s wary about moving around so much, he doesn’t want to disturb Wooyoung beneath him. Doojoon sighs heavily as he lies on his side. He’s looking out the window and the blinds that are drawn are old, the white fading to brown slowly. In between the cracks of the blinds, Doojoon notices that it’s raining. He sees the droplets attach to the glass window and he’s tempted to reach his hand out, push past the blinds to trace the droplets’ pattern down the window pane.
He remembers the last time it rained and he and Junho were confined inside. He remembers being bored out of his mind but most of all; he remembers complicating things with Junho.
Doojoon is sitting on his bed with his back pressed against the wall, tuning in and out to Junho - who’s lying on the bed with his hands behind his head - rambling on and on about things he could care less about.
“Junho,” Doojoon interrupts, “can you shut up for a sec.”
And Junho does, for some reason unknown to Doojoon, Junho stops talking and turns his head towards him. In that moment Doojoon will lean forward onto his hands, and he’ll look Junho dead in the eyes. Doojoon’s eyes will run down the length of Junho’s face and neck, memorizing the dips and the curves before travelling back up to Junho’s lips. Doojoon bends his head down touching lips together hesitantly. And when Junho doesn’t even bat an eyelash, when Junho presses a hand to Doojoon’s neck to pull him closer, Doojoon will remember the way his heart beat in that moment - thump bump, swish.
*
Doojoon wakes up the next morning to the sound of a horn and Wooyoung hitting his head on the bunk. He blearily shucks away the blanket and climbs down the ladder.
untitled
beast, ot6, super powers!au
Doojoon starts to worry when everyone else does. He doesn’t think much of the situation at first when Yunho gets sent to a special hospital where visitors aren’t permitted. His mind checks it off as Yunho being really sick, and no risks were to be taken. Doojoon soon forgets about it until he overhears Taeyeon and Minho outside the bathroom - something about Yunho being able to turn anything he touched into gold. He wants to ask about it and at the same time, wants to tell them that turning stuff into gold is impossible. But then he hears Taeyeon say, “I can stop time.”
He doesn’t know what Minho tells her; instead he walks out of the bathroom with a smile on his face. He bows at them quickly and hurries back to his dressing room. Doojoon’s mind is reeling as he remembers Changsun’s last text message: What happens when people start to fly? There’s no doubt in his mind that something’s happening, and he’s not sure if it’s good either.
Once he gets to the safety of BEAST’s dressing room Doojoon takes out his cell phone. His thumbs move quickly over the number pad, eyebrows drawn forward into a frown. Things are happening; this is a fact and not a figment of his imagination. What kind of things, though, he’s not sure. The only thing that his mind is able to comprehend is that it’s something big. His eyes linger for a long time on the darkened screen of his cell phone, before slipping it into his pocket. When he looks up the rest of his members are staring at him with varying expressions of concern.
“Something wrong?” Junhyung asks, and Doojoon’s not sure if he can tell them. Not with the cordi noonas in the room at least. He shakes his head, his eyes darting to one of the cordi noonas and then back to Junhyung. Junhyung gets the message because he nods his head, and the others don’t say anything.
They watch the little TV that’s set up in their room and it’s SHINee’s performance next. If Doojoon had averted his eyes for even one second he would’ve missed everything that happened next. Jinki is singing in the middle of the stage, pointing his finger at one of the fans in the audience who’s yelling and screaming. As Jinki lifts an arm slightly, he duplicates into two people. Doojoon rubs his eyes in disbelief; the loud shouts that can be heard outside in the hallway fade away as he watches Jinki duplicate even more - four, six, eight.
“Is this real?” He hears Kikwang say in a quiet voice next to him. “Am I dreaming? Is this some sort of special effect?”
But it couldn’t be - Doojoon knows this. Inkigayo is airing everything live. His eyes drift to the other people on the stage who isn’t Jinki, and the other SHINee members have stopped dancing and singing to stare at Jinki as he continues to duplicate himself. All the Jinkis on stage look confused, they’re mimicking each other’s moves, making it difficult to separate between the real Jinki and the fakes. And, just as quickly as the duplicates of Jinki appear on stage, they disappear.
The channel changes immediately. The last thing Doojoon sees is Jinki falling on the stage floor.
“Hyung,” Kikwang says, shaking his arm to get his attention, “hyung, what was that? What was that?”
Doojoon doesn’t get a chance to answer because the whole room erupts into chaos. The cordi noonas are talking so loudly, they might as well be yelling at the top of their lungs. Dongwoon is just as loud, and Kikwang averts his attention from Doojoon to Dongwoon and Yoseob.
His cell phone vibrates in his pocket and he takes it out.
Changsun (15:30): not really leader.
Doojoon swallows the lump in his throat. Changsun is clever when he wants to be, Doojoon supposes, as he gets up from the chair to grab a water bottle from the table. Changsun’s text only confirms his thoughts: something big is happening, and all the leaders are involved. His eyes sweep over the entirety of the dressing room, taking in the occupants and his members. Clutching tightly at his water bottle, Doojoon can only think of his turn. His turn for what though? He doesn’t know, and the thought alone is more terrifying than anything else he’s ever faced.
The door to their dressing room opens, slamming behind their manager. Doojoon immediately rushes over to him.
“Hyung, what’s going on?”
“We’re going home,” he says, motions for everyone to start packing up. “Hurry up and get changed. Everyone is going home because the program’s been cancelled.”
“Okay,” Doojoon replies, “okay. Is that it? Anything else?”
“That’s it,” he tells Doojoon with a helpless shrug of his shoulders, “I don’t know anything else.”
“All right.” Doojoon turns his back on him and begins to undress himself. Everyone in the room is silent, but the others follow his lead and start to change out of their performance outfits.
As he changes Doojoon thinks about everything that’s happened. Taeyeon can stop time, Yunho has the Midas touch, Jinki can duplicate himself and Seungho can fly. His mind numbs as soon as he realises that everyone is getting a superpower. He puts his t-shirt on backwards, noticing only because Junhyung tells him his shirt is inside out. Doojoon gives his head a shake, an attempt to clear his mind but it doesn’t work. Even as they head out toward the van, Doojoon can’t seem to wrap his mind around it. Superpowers? No, it’s impossible.
Lifting his eyes from the floor he notices Taeyeon and the other SNSD members file out of their dressing rooms, sombre looks on their faces. Taeyeon looks at him then, locking her eyes with his. Doojoon doesn’t know what to do, so he smiles at her - an awkward curve of lips, a slight tilt of his head forward. She returns the gesture, lifting her hand to her ear to tuck stray hair strands behind it. It’s at that moment Doojoon notices the cell phone that’s clutched tightly between her fingers. And for one brief second, he feels possessed as his hand fishes into his jean pockets of its own accord to take out his cell phone. He is playing with it as he walks by her, and once he pushes past the backdoors of the building his cell phone is tucked safely into his pocket.
The mood in the van isn’t a good one, but Doojoon is too tired and scared to care. He leans his head against Junhyung’s, half expecting the other man to shrug him off but he doesn’t. He’s grateful for his band member’s understanding, and slips his arms around Junhyung’s, pulling him closer.
“If you think,” Junhyung starts, his voice quiet so that only Doojoon and perhaps Yoseob on his other side can hear, “that you’re going to get away with not telling me what you know, I will throw you out of this van.”
Doojoon smiles against Junhyung’s shoulder, murmuring, “Let me sleep.”
Junhyung opens his mouth to protest but Yoseob speaks before he’s given the chance to. “Only because you look tired.”
Doojoon doesn’t have to look up to know that Junhyung and Yoseob are glaring at each other. He tries not to snicker when Junhyung sighs heavily, because Yoseob wins - Yoseob always wins.
“Fine,” Junhyung tells him. “But when we get home you’re telling me everything.”
Doojoon nods his head in response. Junhyung’s been like this for a while, he notes, ever since Doojoon announced that he’d be his second in command. Junhyung demands to know things that only leaders should know about, things like Yunho being sent to the hospital and the rumours. Junhyung doesn’t know that Doojoon’s only heard of such things because people like to talk, because there are others who are scared, because Yunho may have been the first one to be found out by other entertainment companies doesn’t mean that this is the first time it’s happened. Doojoon doesn’t tell Junhyung those things. The reason is mostly because Junhyung panics when the balance of order is disturbed and mostly because Doojoon doesn’t want to believe them himself.
The silence that fills the van doesn’t last long.
“That was … interesting,” Hyunseung says from the front seat.
“It was scary,” Kikwang says with a shake of his head. “It was beyond … scary.”
Yoseob hums in agreement. “I wonder what’s going to happen to him.”
“Do you think it’ll be bad?” Dongwoon turns his body around to face the other three sitting in the back. Doojoon has his eyes opened now, there’s no way he’ll be able to fall asleep now.
“Who knows?” Junhyung answers and Doojoon lifts his head to look out the window. “Just be thankful it’s not you.”
It takes everything in Doojoon to not shudder.
*
He slumps against the closed door of the bathroom, taking out his cell phone. Opening his inbox he takes a deep breath and then looks at the bright, coloured screen.
It’s time.
*
The company puts them on lockdown without any explanation, leaving Kikwang and Junhyung to think of conspiracy theories that silently drives Doojoon crazy. Eventually the rest of the band joins in except for Doojoon. He spends more time making phone calls in the middle of the night, texting in the bathroom with the door locked where no one can see him. He takes his cell phone everywhere, making sure it does not leave his side - no, it can’t.
It’s time the text message said, it’s time it’s time it’s time it’s time it’s time. Doojoon didn’t get a text message like this the last time, but he’d been there when Jihyun did. He remembers how scared she’d been, remembers how hysterical she was and then she cried, cried on his shoulder and all he could do for her was pat her awkwardly on the back. Doojoon shouldn’t have seen the text message the first time. Sometimes he wonders if he was chosen to be a leader over Kikwang because of the text message, not because of age.
Sometimes, Doojoon thinks it’s because of him that Jaebum hyung left, because he read something that was supposed to be kept secret. He read something that was exclusive between the leaders of the idol bands, he read something classified.
Junho tells him every time that it’s not his fault, that everything only turned out the way it did because God willed it to be that way. Except, that’s not what Taekyeon’s eyes tell him - Taekyeon knows its Doojoon’s fault, knows that if Doojoon hadn’t found out Jaebum hyung would still be here - still be in 2PM.
But Junho is stubborn, tells him that this is what God wanted, this is the path that He set out for them to follow.
Junho can breathe fire like a dragon.
Doojoon wants to ask where his God was now. Instead he doesn’t reply to Junho’s text message, just brushes off another one of Junhyung’s attempts to know, but Doojoon can’t let him - anyone know.
*
He’s on edge now because Jihyun is gone. Their manager stops by to drop off food and his face is pale with dark circles under his eyes. He tells them that Jihyun is gone, that the same ambulance that took Jinki had taken her too. It takes everyone in the apartment to convince Hyunseung to stay where he is, to stay at home and not go after her because it’s too dangerous to go outside.
“Hyung, please,” Hyunseung is on his knees, shoulders shaking because he’s crying, because he’s angry and frustrated and he can’t do anything about it, “please let me bring her back! They … they can’t take her, she’s not sick!”
“I’m sorry,” Jiyong says helplessly. “Hyunseung-ah, you know I’d let you go if I could-”
“Then let me go!” Hyunseung screams, voice cracking as he chokes on a sob.
“Hyunseung!” Doojoon steps forward this time, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset but show some respect.”
“It’s okay, Doojoon-ah, it’s - I - ah - understand.”
“Hyung, you have to let me go.”
“I’m sorry, Hyunseung-ah. You’re quarantined here just like everyone else.”
When Jiyong leaves, Doojoon tightens his grip on Hyunseung’s shoulder. “If you go after her you don’t care about your members. This band, this group comes first before she does. Understand? Don’t be rash about this, Hyunseung-ah. Jihyun is sick that’s all.”
Hyunseung shoves Doojoon’s hand off his shoulder, standing up to look at Doojoon square in the eye. “She’s your friend too, Doojoon! Don’t you care about her at all?”
“I care about this band too, Hyunseung.”
Hyunseung doesn’t say anything to him, shoves past him, knocking their shoulders together purposely that causes Doojoon to stumble backward.
“Hyunseung! Hyunseung!” Yoseob gives Doojoon a look out of the corner of his eye, then shakes his head, following after Hyunseung with Dongwoon and Junhyung on his heels.
Kikwang stays behind, looking at Doojoon like he’s alien - grown another head. “That was really mean.”
And then Doojoon is alone, alone as he walks to the bathroom and closes the door. He covers his hand to hide the sob that comes out of his mouth when the lock on the door clicks. They’d taken Jihyun too.
He takes out his cell phone and there’s a text message from Jihyun.
I know what you’re thinking, I’ll be fine.
Doojoon knows that she won’t be fine, though. Jihyun scares easily - and wherever she’s going, she’s going to be forced to talk. Forced to tell what she knows. And when Jihyun panics, she lets things slip, lets things slip that people don’t say out loud. To her though, it may as well have been said out loud.
Even if Jihyun knows things, it doesn’t mean she’ll be fine.
Doojoon is scared. He wants to tell the others everything - how this all started, why everyone is being taken away … but he can’t.
The leaders have to stick together.
Doojoon made a promise.
*
Hyunseung doesn’t talk to him after that. He only listens to his orders after having to repeat them a few times, but afterwards that’s it. Hyunseung blames Doojoon for everything that’s happened - or will happen. He’s angry that Doojoon made him choose between friends and the girl he cares about, so angry that Doojoon doesn’t care. All Doojoon cares about is that everyone is safe, safe with him.
He doesn’t know how much time he has left with them, because it could be his turn soon. Things could happen and then he’d get taken away and where would that leave them? No, Doojoon can’t be taken away. If things happen he has to be discreet like Taeyeon, like Jiyong, like Seungho. No one can take him away from them, they need to be protected.
And then his worst nightmare happens.
Kikwang can make himself invisible.
*
“No!” Doojoon screams at the top of his lungs. “No! No! No! No! This wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen!”
Everyone is sitting on the couch, watching him pace the length of the living room, hands running through his hair.
“Hyung, this isn’t that bad! This is actually pretty damn cool!” Kikwang is grinning, and then closes his eyes and he’s invisible again. Yoseob reaches over to punch him in the stomach and Kikwang yelps, reappearing moments afterwards, clutching his stomach.
“So fucking cool,” Junhyung breaths, mesmerised.
“No! It’s not fucking cool at all,” Doojoon yells at all of them. “God, this wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen.”
“It’s all right, man,” Junhyung says, “take a damn chill pill, all right? It’s not like we’re going to tell anyone what Kikwang can do.”
“Are you serious? C’mon, can’t I at least show Siyoon hyung?”
“No!” Doojoon stalks toward Kikwang, grabbing him by his shoulders. “Kikwang, you can’t tell anyone about this! You weren’t even supposed to have this - this - power yet. Kikwang, listen to me, you can’t fucking trust anyone who’s not in this band, ok? Not even Jiyong hyung, or any of the other managers, ok? No one’s supposed to know.”
“Can’t I at least tell my parents?”
“Doojoon, calm the fuck down.” Junhyung is grabbing at his wrist but Doojoon shoves him away.
“No, not even your parents, Kikwang! This is serious! This is fucking serious, ok!”
Doojoon’s never seen Kikwang look so scared and he’s partly to blame for that, but Doojoon doesn’t care. He crushes Kikwang’s body against his, his arms tightening around Kikwang’s body. He’s failed, Doojoon thinks, he failed protecting his own group.
“I’m so sorry,” Doojoon mumbles into Kikwang’s shoulder, “I couldn’t protect you, I couldn’t - I couldn’t protect you from … from this.”
“Hyung? Hyung? Doojoon, are you crying?”
Doojoon feels Kikwang try to pull away from him but he just holds on tighter. This is his fault, if he’d never seen the text message from Jihyun last year, then he’d never be appointed leader. Kikwang would be leader, he’d be able to protect everyone with his power and -
Kikwang’s arms curl around Doojoon’s shoulders, a hand flitting through his hair. “Hyung, it’s all right. I’ll be okay, I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”
this crazy thing they call love
junsu/wooyoung
It all begins with fingertips pressing light and deep into his chest, tracing promises within his heart. Junsu grabs onto Wooyoung’s wrist, soft but firm and pulls it away from the heat in his chest. He smiles hesitantly and shakes his head.
“I - I can’t.”
*
All Junsu can think about these days is Wooyoung. Wooyoung and how he gives Junsu small, reassuring smiles and equally reassuring hand squeezing backstage before a performance. Junsu thinks about Wooyoung and the promises that make his heart speed up and slow down at the same time; it shouldn’t even be physically possible.
Yet it is. It is because Junsu finds himself standing outside on the balcony with Wooyoung. He moves in close from behind, lacing their fingers together as quickly as possible without turning to look at him.
“Let’s take this slow,” he whispers biting his lip as he looks down at his feet.
*
Junsu wants to go fast and slow at the same time. He thinks these thoughts late at night with his hands behind his head. He wants to speed things up because god, the way Wooyoung’s lips move against his is thrilling - the blood rush and the dizziness he gets from feeling Wooyoung’s heated skin against his makes him excited.
He turns onto his side, smiling into his pillow as he thinks about the first time. Junsu thinks about the way their noses bumped awkwardly in the dark, how their teeth clunked dangerously at first and Wooyoung’s tongue hesitant and sweeping over the small cracks on Junsu’s lips. Junsu’s smile turns into a grin as he remembers the last time. Wooyoung pressed up against a wall and Junsu’s knee between two legs. Junsu is fingering the waistband of Wooyoung’s sweats, hesitant. His teeth graze the length of Wooyoung’s neck and in the end his fingers go up Wooyoung’s shirt.
Junsu’s not ready for that yet.
*
There are things about Wooyoung that Junsu likes. Things like his cheeks and his eyes, the way his hair tickles Junsu’s nose in the dark as they lie in Junsu’s bed together with clasped hands.
untitled
taekyeon/chansung
Chansung is walking away from the tent, his thumb and forefinger tracing the edges of the card in his hand. He only visited the lady for kicks - he’s not the type of person to believe in horoscopes or fortune tellers, but he can’t get her words out of his head. As he crosses the street with his hood pulled tightly around him, he can still hear the way her tongue curls around informal words - what if you had control of your own destiny? Struggling with the keys in his hand he feels it go cold, feels her pressing the card into his hand and its edges pushing into his skin.
He’s going to kill Wooyoung later for telling him to go to the fortune teller.
*
For a while Chansung forgets about the card that’s stuffed into his sock drawer. However, all good things come to an end when he finds the card on the kitchen counter being used as a coaster. Taekyeon walks in then, towelling off his damp hair and just as he passes by, Chansung hooks his fingers around Taekyeon’s wrist.
“Hyung, where did the card come from?”
“What?” Taekyeon looks around and when his eyes land on the card he shrugs his shoulders. “No idea, ask Wooyoung? Or Khun! Isn’t he on laundry duty?”
Chansung nods and lets go of Taekyeon who absently pats him on the shoulder, opening the door of the fridge. Chansung moves the glass over, taking the pale card, yellowed with age, from the counter. He absently traces the water stains around the inside of the circular design. The card gets stuffed into his pocket, leaving it there for the whole day. And for the whole day the card is fire, burning his skin and his mind.
Nichkhun is sending him funny looks when he stares blankly at the interviewer whose mouth is opening and closing, but the words aren’t processing. Chansung shrugs at Nichkhun in response, turns around to ask the interviewer to repeat herself. When they get home, Chansung is waving off Junsu who thinks he’s an interrogator with all the questions he’s firing at him.
“I said I don’t know,” Chansung says finally, throwing his hands up into the air and Junsu has his arms crossed. “It’s a bad day, okay?”
“You’ve been like this lately, Chansung, it’s not just today-”
“And I said I was sorry-”
“Just because you say sorry doesn’t mean anything!” Junsu runs a hand over his face, sighing and Taekyeon is giving Chansung signals from behind Junsu. “Chansung-”
And Chansung has had enough of this conversation so he says something that makes Junsu shut up. “You’re not Jaebum hyung.” The apartment falls silent and Taekyeon is looking at him with wide eyes and Nichkhun is standing off to the side awkwardly, Wooyoung’s fingers are paused over the number pad of his cell phone, Junho is bending over his shoes again in an attempt to re-untie them and Junsu is opening and closing his mouth with no words. Chansung takes a deep breath and says, “So stop acting like you’re him.”
whether or not these will be continued is really up in the air right now, but i've basically fallen out of fandom.