[dbsk] the fallen (1/3)
The Fallen (1/3)
Yoochun/Junsu
3254 words
Junsu finds a bruised man during a rainy day. The man claims to be Yoochun, a descendant of the Majeh* and a succubus**, but damned by both heaven and hell with a bounty on his head. And for saving his life, he grants Junsu just one wish.
(Based on the manga, Ororon.)
*Majeh: Demon King, literally means King of Hell in Korean
**succubus: a demon that sucks the energy of its victims
In the previous fic that I wrote, it was a yuki-onna (snow woman), which is a type of succubus in Japanese folklore that usually appears during a snowstorm. I changed it to a succubus here because there's no Korean equivalent for a yuki-onna.
the fallen
The Beginning
The first time they met was when the first brown leaf of Autumn fell.
No one really knows where he came from. People in the neighborhood say he was thrown out of a van, all bloody and bruised and exhausted but some, those who whisper in both fear and fascination, say that he just appeared out of nowhere - like a figment of their imagination. No one bothered to help him. No one except him.
It has been raining all day when a young man finds him under the tree, mud and leaves and twigs sticking to his body. It is the first time in years he has smelled something sweeter than honey and he tries to fight the urge to reach out.
The man crouches down to stare levelly at him. “Hello…?”
“Leave me alone,” he quietly grunts.
The man looks at him for a moment, a quiet stillness amidst the howling wind, before he stands up and leaves. The last thing he sees of him is his bright yellow umbrella becoming smaller as he walks away. Just like the rest of them, he thinks as the cold rain beckons him to sleep.
He jolts, surprised, when he feels something hot pressed on to his face slowly warming his skin and waking his senses.
“I thought you might like some tea.”
He looks up and sees the young man from before staring at him with curious eyes. He is about to say his gratitude -and a warning- when the man cuts him off before he can open his mouth.
“You don’t have a place to go, do you?” The man asks, tilts his head and continues, “Come on, you can take a warm shower at my place. You’ll catch a cold if you stay here.” The young man pulls him up, warm hands entwined with his, and drags him out on the street. He feels calmness and exhaustion wash over him like a blanket and wonders if this young man knows what he’s getting into and why the sweet smell of nectar lingers.
They come to an abrupt stop in front of an old, small house. The man opens the door with a twist of a key and warmth envelops them as they enter. It is a humble home, he observes - there’s an acceptable kind of mess in the living room and he’s surrounded by the fresh smell of sunflowers and hope.
He hears a loud gasp behind him, and when he turns around he sees the man, eyes wide open and mouth hanging agape. “I forgot to introduce myself,” he says, eyes sparkling. “I’m Junsu. Kim Junsu. And you?”
“I’m-” he struggles, trying to find the voice he hasn’t used in a while, “Park Yoochun.”
Junsu gives a slight tour of the house showing Yoochun the living room, dining area, and bathroom before he runs off somewhere. “Yoochun-ah, wait here. I’ll go get you a towel.”
Junsu has settled into calling him Yoochun within the first two minutes they’ve introduced themselves. The first time he said it so familiarly, he was smiling so wide that Yoochun couldn't even say no to Junsu calling him by his first name.
Junsu comes back with a bundle of soft terry cotton towels and a grin on his face. Yoochun is standing awkwardly at the side of the room, clothes and hair still wet and dirty and holding on to the bottle of tea.
“You haven’t drank your tea yet. It must be cold now.” Junsu says, looking at the bottle on Yoochun's hands. “Here, give it to me so I can reheat it.”
He makes a move to go forward, hands reaching out to grab the bottle when Yoochun cuts him. “I’m not thirsty.” Yoochun whispers, leans closer to Junsu, and inhales his scent. “I’m not thirsty of this.”
“What are-”
Junsu stops, cotton towels falling to the ground, when he feels lips closing in on his.
The scenario plays over and over again in his dream. He could feel it, his knees growing weak, head light on his shoulders, skin melting on skin. He could hear the constant drumming of blood rushing through his head, the stuttering of his heartbeat. He could taste it, even. Taste him. He barely notices the darkness approaching.
When Junsu wakes up, he is lying on his bed, sheets tucked under his chin, and the room empty. He remains on his bed, touches his lips and wonders if they’ve been kissed.
He gasps in surprise when a voice cuts through his thoughts. “Ahh, you’re finally awake.”
Yoochun is standing on the doorway, body leaning on the frame looking fresh from the shower and dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that look too loose on his bottom.
“What- You-” Junsu sputters for a moment and tries to arrange his thoughts.
“What? Me?” There is an amused smile on Yoochun’s face and Junsu notices that he looks younger now, more relaxed. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your clothes. Mine is a little… dirty.” Yoochun winces.
“What happened?” Junsu blurts out.
Yoochun looks at him for a moment, laughter dancing in his eyes. “You fainted so I took you to your bedroom and then I showered and stole some clothes in your closet.”
“Not that,” Junsu interrupts. “What happened before I fainted?”
“You saved me.” Yoochun breathes, and looks at Junsu with haunting eyes. “With that kiss.”
Yoochun doesn’t explain anything more after that. Even with Junsu whining and shrieking like a girl about being kissed by a guy, although he says it with mirth and not much harm. It has been three days since they first met, and Yoochun’s been staying at the abandoned room next to Junsu's. He doesn’t seem to mind having a complete stranger staying in his house - he enjoys having company while eating his meals or while doing the dishes or while cleaning the living room.
They never talk about Yoochun leaving, and it has never crossed Junsu’s mind until tonight.
They are sprawled on the sofa, Junsu holding a bowl of chips and Yoochun drinking his tea quietly. The TV is tuned to a rerun of an old sappy Korean movie that Junsu seems engrossed in though Yoochun isn’t sure why. Humans confuse him sometimes.
Yoochun moves a bit to look at Junsu directly while the movie pauses for a commercial break. “For your service of helping me,” Yoochun says slowly. “I will grant you one wish.”
Junsu laughs, almost impudently, and turns to Yoochun. “What are you talking about?”
Yoochun amuses him for a bit, a small smile playing on his lips. “I will grant you one wish,” he repeats. “Of anything you ask for.”
“Anything?” Junsu asks in a carefree sing-song voice, but with brows furrowed together in confusion.
“Anything.”
Junsu says the first thing that comes to his mind: “I want you to stay with me forever.”
Forever, Yoochun thinks, is such a short amount of time.
University classes have resumed and Junsu is skeptical at leaving Yoochun alone at first.
“I think I can skip classes today.”
“You should attend your classes.”
“But it’s just the first day! It will just be about introductions and it’s going to be so boooring, Yoochunnieee.”
“I still think you shouldn’t skip your classes.”
“But-”
“I’ll still be here when you come back home.”
And that is the end of their conversation.
Sometimes, Junsu’s still afraid that when he gets back from school, the house would be barren and cold with no trace of Yoochun except for the lingering scent of brewed tea leaves and strawberries.
Yoochun has never broken Junsu’s wish, and when Yoochun had agreed to it easily with a simple “okay” Junsu couldn’t believe him.
(“THAT’S IT?” Junsu shrieks, more of in surprise rather than an actual protest.
“Yes. Okay. And you can’t change your wish! It’s irrevocable.” Yoochun smirks.
“But what about your family? Your friends?”
Yoochun stiffens beside him, his back straight and proud, whole body frozen. “I don’t have any.”
“Well then, I guess we’re the same.” And when Yoochun looks at him, Junsu is smiling, bright and genuine and pained.)
When they talk -mostly Junsu- while preparing dinner, (Yoochun cooking kimchi fried rice and Junsu arranging the table) Junsu thinks that this must be what having a family feels like.
“I don’t remember much of how my parents look like,” Junsu replies when asked about his family, eyes glued to the TV screen.
“All I could remember was that my mother had warm, soft hands, and that I loved her cooking. And that my father used to take me to the park near our old house before we moved here.”
Yoochun doesn’t make any noise, just stays still, stays quiet as Junsu continues. “They left. They told me they were just going to visit someone, but they never came back. My grandfather has been taking care of me until he passed away two years ago.”
Junsu’s eyes darken momentarily. “But don’t say sorry - I don't like it when people do that.” He makes a sour face at the TV. “It's not like you made it happen.”
The next words out of his mouth come as a whisper, like a familiar prayer that has been said too many times. “I know they’ll come back. I know they will. Because years after they left I still remember how their love feels like.”
The scenes move on the screen, but Junsu’s eyes remain fixed on a single spot.
Yoochun meets Changmin-shi on his third month of stay.
Junsu is screaming in the background and pummels himself towards the door when Yoochun had greeted their visitor.
“WHERE IS MY SOUVENIR,” Junsu gasps, clutching at Changmin-shi’s shirt.
“So that’s the first thing you say to your best friend after not seeing him in a long time? No hello? Or welcome back? Or how was the trip?” Changmin-shi says exasperatedly, but pulls out a plastic from his bag and hands it over.
Junsu opens it eagerly. It’s a tie-dyed t-shirt that says, “I <3 OKINAWA” with palm tree designs splattered carelessly on the side.
“I can’t believe you went all the way to Japan and all I got is this lousy t-shirt.” Junsu pouts. “You cheapskate.”
“Yah, stop being ungrateful! At least I got you something. And I know you're obsessed with palm trees."
Junsu opens his mouth for a retort, but Changmin-shi beats him to it. "Don't even deny it! Now how about you introduce me to your new friend?” He slowly turns to Yoochun with inquiring eyes.
“Oh! This is Yoochun-ah. He’s staying with me.” Junsu grins and turns to Yoochun. “And Yoochun, this is-”
“Shim Changmin or Changmin. This idiot’s best and only friend.” Changmin-shi eases into a smile, and bows his head a little.
“Shut up. I’m doing you a favor by being your friend so you would suck less.”
“So says the one who barely socializes like a normal human being. I’m surprised Yoochun would even go near you.” He tugs on Yoochun's arm and pulls him close.
“If you hurt Junsu, I’ll hunt you down.” Changmin-shi jokes and blows a puff of air on Yoochun’s ear.
“Stop being mean to him, Min!” Junsu shouts and grabs Yoochun’s hand. “Your old face is scary enough as it is.”
“I was just kidding!” Changmin-shi says, mouth shaped in an open laugh, but Yoochun notes his eyes tell him otherwise.
Junsu puts the two in charge of their dinner while he stalks the Playstation in the living room.
(“You bum! We’re your guests but you treat us like your slaves.” Changmin-shi complains.)
They still end up cooking with the logical reason that the kitchen is a foreign environment to Junsu.
“Except the refrigerator,” Changmin-shi says.
“And the microwave,” Yoochun adds.
They laugh and fall into an easy, casual conversation; a string of questions and answers going back and forth, with a few things left unsaid. By the time they’re finished, there’s a big bowl of kimchi jjigae and five different side dishes.
“Changmin-shi, I’ll go-”
“Changmin. Just call me Changmin.”
Yoochun smiles.
“And Yoochun?” Changmin asks.
“Yes?”
“Take care of him, okay?” Changmin turns his back and walks towards the living room with their dinner on his hands.
“You didn’t have to ask.”
It is Junsu’s idea to go grocery shopping together and Yoochun gives up after being on the receiving end of his complaints.
(“Yoochunnieee, you never go out of the house. It’s summer and you look so pale! Enjoy the sun with meee~”)
The sun is high and hot above them as they walk down a narrow street.
A scream pierces their ears and Yoochun’s whole body tenses in anticipation.
“What was that?” Junsu asks, but he's already running towards the source before Yoochun can stop him.
They stop when they see the scene before them. The stench of death and desperation is overwhelming and it almost makes Yoochun gag in displeasure.
There is a girl, if one could call her that, with strings of black hair on her head, eye sockets hollow, and a pair of eyeballs dangling off her face. There is dried blood on her neck and thin bones sticking out of her dress.
“I will take you with me to hell, you traitor.” Her lips twist in to a smile, and her hands clutch on the fabrics of the student’s uniform.
“Stop,” the student pleads, begs to let her go. “Please. I thought we were friends.”
“Friends don’t steal each other’s boyfriends.” The ghost snarls, a painful look crossing her face. “You knew how much I loved him.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m really, really sorry,” is all she could say.
Yoochun watches as Junsu intervenes, touches the ghost on her shoulder and says, “Let her go.”
The walk back home is a quiet affair; footsteps falling soundlessly beside each other and hands clasped together. Junsu’s grip is tight. Don’t leave.
The house is empty and dark when they get back. Junsu is exhausted and he just wants to lie down and drift off to another world. The task of cleansing a spirit is never an easy one, and it weighs heavily on Junsu’s heart.
“Do you think I’m a freak?” Junsu asks him after. “Will you leave me?” Like the others?
“No, silly.” Yoochun smiles at him, brushes the pad of his thumb against Junsu’s cheek.
Yoochun finally understands now. Why Junsu doesn’t have that many friends. Why Junsu is always alone. Why Junsu is haunted and hunted. Why Junsu’s parents will never come back.
He knows the reason behind it. He has known it ever since he first met the boy, looked at his eyes, smelled his scent, and kissed him, but he denies it at his convenience. He can feel it in the air, white sparks of electricity and empathy, and it prickles his skin. Divine power.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Junsu pulls Yoochun to his bedroom, lets Yoochun tuck him in and tell him a bedtime story. Yoochun winds a story about the beginning of the universe, from the start of time.
(There are three types of creatures: divine beings, humans, and the fallen angels banished to eternal damnation. And then, there are those rare ones, the halves of two beings put together, but neither accepted by any of the three. Their existence is forbidden, and they are put to death as dictated by the law that governs all races...)
By the time Yoochun finishes, Junsu is already asleep, breathing evenly. Yoochun curls a strand of Junsu's hair around his finger, tucks it behind his ear and whispers, “You’re special. You’ll come to understand that one day.”
"Yoochun-ah, what do you think about love?"
They're both lying on the couch, letting a lazy weekend pass by when Junsu pulls out the question.
Yoochun doesn't answer. How does one tell about something that is so abstract and powerful and destructive? He has seen every ugly side of love that he's too blinded to see anything beyond that. Didn't Junsu see what love did to those two girls?
He's about to say something when Junsu looks up, eyes looking shiny with something akin to hope.
Yoochun keeps his thoughts to himself.
Their second kiss comes unexpectedly.
All that Junsu can remember is initiating the first step, leaning down on Yoochun, and then - darkness.
All that Yoochun felt is soft, warm lips on his own and the need to consume.
When Junsu wakes up in his room, Yoochun is standing by the window, looking out to the world.
(Don’t ever kiss me. Why? Just. Don’t. Okay. A pause. But can I love you? Yoochun sucks in a breath. I don’t think anyone could. But I already am. I don’t think you should. That’s not fair. A lot of things aren't fair. Give me a chance -
I’ll show you what love is.)
Their first night together comes in the form of a rainy day, of nervous fumbling and tangled bed sheets, performing an awkward dance through the night.
Junsu brings a stranger home one day. Yoochun tenses as the wall he has put up bends slightly to someone else’s will. He drops the plate and rushes to the door.
“Junsu!” Yoochun shouts. “Junsu, are you o-”
He stops when he sees them.
“Jaejoong.”
“Hello, younger brother.”
Junsu lets Jaejoong in after he hears their exchange. He shrieks at Yoochun for lying to him -
“I THOUGHT YOU DON’T HAVE A FAMILY.”
“He’s not part of my family.”
“I’m not part of his family.”
- but he just ends up more confused than before. Junsu only calms down after Yoochun promised to explain everything to him, and to give them time to talk.
“What are you doing here?” Yoochun's voice is icy, his posture alert.
“Don’t be like that dongsaeng.” Jaejoong smiles. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“Then what are you here for?”
"They made me temporary King when you left." Jaejoong sits at the edge of Yoochun’s bed and surveys the room leisurely. “I’m here to give you back that position. You know I hate politics and any semblance to leadership.”
Yoochun makes a noncommittal noise and turns around.
“And besides,” Jaejoong’s voice turns serious, “they’re hunting for you. And if they find out you’re with-”
“I know,” Yoochun cuts in. “I know.”
Yoochun sighs. “Will you aid me when the time comes?”
“Of course.” Jaejoong grins. “Consider it as payback for what happened fifty years ago.”
Jaejoong becomes a part of Junsu’s family in just a matter of days.
Judgment day comes sooner than Yoochun expected.
“I smelled angel meat, but instead found the Demon King. It must be my lucky day.”
Bounty hunters, Yoochun's mind screams.
“Get out.” Yoochun says, an underlying threat to his voice. He gives a second to think about Junsu - he’s safe with Jaejoong.
The demon snorts. “Or what? You’ll kill us like how you killed your right hand man? We heard you two were best friends.”
Yoochun stiffens. “You’re not welcome here. This is my last warning.”
“You may be King, but we heard you’re the weakest among your brothers. It would be easy defeating you since we’ve got years of experience behind us. Besides,” he sneers, “you only got the throne because the previous King was so smitten with his bed-warmer.”
The other demon laughs. “Your mother must have been really good then.”
Dear God, Yoochun prays for the first time, don’t let Junsu see me like this.
Part II.
AN: This was originally a Jin/Kame fanfic that I wrote years ago but never finished because I lost interest. :( I'm re-writing/re-posting the story, but with a different couple because I feel more attached to this fandom now than I am with KAT-TUN so maybe that would give me the push to finish it. Also, this is my first time writing YooSu (or basically anything for DBSK/kpop) so uhhhh, hi! I hope I can write more DBSK fics in the future.
Yoochun/Junsu
3254 words
Junsu finds a bruised man during a rainy day. The man claims to be Yoochun, a descendant of the Majeh* and a succubus**, but damned by both heaven and hell with a bounty on his head. And for saving his life, he grants Junsu just one wish.
(Based on the manga, Ororon.)
*Majeh: Demon King, literally means King of Hell in Korean
**succubus: a demon that sucks the energy of its victims
In the previous fic that I wrote, it was a yuki-onna (snow woman), which is a type of succubus in Japanese folklore that usually appears during a snowstorm. I changed it to a succubus here because there's no Korean equivalent for a yuki-onna.
the fallen
The Beginning
The first time they met was when the first brown leaf of Autumn fell.
No one really knows where he came from. People in the neighborhood say he was thrown out of a van, all bloody and bruised and exhausted but some, those who whisper in both fear and fascination, say that he just appeared out of nowhere - like a figment of their imagination. No one bothered to help him. No one except him.
It has been raining all day when a young man finds him under the tree, mud and leaves and twigs sticking to his body. It is the first time in years he has smelled something sweeter than honey and he tries to fight the urge to reach out.
The man crouches down to stare levelly at him. “Hello…?”
“Leave me alone,” he quietly grunts.
The man looks at him for a moment, a quiet stillness amidst the howling wind, before he stands up and leaves. The last thing he sees of him is his bright yellow umbrella becoming smaller as he walks away. Just like the rest of them, he thinks as the cold rain beckons him to sleep.
He jolts, surprised, when he feels something hot pressed on to his face slowly warming his skin and waking his senses.
“I thought you might like some tea.”
He looks up and sees the young man from before staring at him with curious eyes. He is about to say his gratitude -and a warning- when the man cuts him off before he can open his mouth.
“You don’t have a place to go, do you?” The man asks, tilts his head and continues, “Come on, you can take a warm shower at my place. You’ll catch a cold if you stay here.” The young man pulls him up, warm hands entwined with his, and drags him out on the street. He feels calmness and exhaustion wash over him like a blanket and wonders if this young man knows what he’s getting into and why the sweet smell of nectar lingers.
They come to an abrupt stop in front of an old, small house. The man opens the door with a twist of a key and warmth envelops them as they enter. It is a humble home, he observes - there’s an acceptable kind of mess in the living room and he’s surrounded by the fresh smell of sunflowers and hope.
He hears a loud gasp behind him, and when he turns around he sees the man, eyes wide open and mouth hanging agape. “I forgot to introduce myself,” he says, eyes sparkling. “I’m Junsu. Kim Junsu. And you?”
“I’m-” he struggles, trying to find the voice he hasn’t used in a while, “Park Yoochun.”
Junsu gives a slight tour of the house showing Yoochun the living room, dining area, and bathroom before he runs off somewhere. “Yoochun-ah, wait here. I’ll go get you a towel.”
Junsu has settled into calling him Yoochun within the first two minutes they’ve introduced themselves. The first time he said it so familiarly, he was smiling so wide that Yoochun couldn't even say no to Junsu calling him by his first name.
Junsu comes back with a bundle of soft terry cotton towels and a grin on his face. Yoochun is standing awkwardly at the side of the room, clothes and hair still wet and dirty and holding on to the bottle of tea.
“You haven’t drank your tea yet. It must be cold now.” Junsu says, looking at the bottle on Yoochun's hands. “Here, give it to me so I can reheat it.”
He makes a move to go forward, hands reaching out to grab the bottle when Yoochun cuts him. “I’m not thirsty.” Yoochun whispers, leans closer to Junsu, and inhales his scent. “I’m not thirsty of this.”
“What are-”
Junsu stops, cotton towels falling to the ground, when he feels lips closing in on his.
The scenario plays over and over again in his dream. He could feel it, his knees growing weak, head light on his shoulders, skin melting on skin. He could hear the constant drumming of blood rushing through his head, the stuttering of his heartbeat. He could taste it, even. Taste him. He barely notices the darkness approaching.
When Junsu wakes up, he is lying on his bed, sheets tucked under his chin, and the room empty. He remains on his bed, touches his lips and wonders if they’ve been kissed.
He gasps in surprise when a voice cuts through his thoughts. “Ahh, you’re finally awake.”
Yoochun is standing on the doorway, body leaning on the frame looking fresh from the shower and dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that look too loose on his bottom.
“What- You-” Junsu sputters for a moment and tries to arrange his thoughts.
“What? Me?” There is an amused smile on Yoochun’s face and Junsu notices that he looks younger now, more relaxed. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your clothes. Mine is a little… dirty.” Yoochun winces.
“What happened?” Junsu blurts out.
Yoochun looks at him for a moment, laughter dancing in his eyes. “You fainted so I took you to your bedroom and then I showered and stole some clothes in your closet.”
“Not that,” Junsu interrupts. “What happened before I fainted?”
“You saved me.” Yoochun breathes, and looks at Junsu with haunting eyes. “With that kiss.”
Yoochun doesn’t explain anything more after that. Even with Junsu whining and shrieking like a girl about being kissed by a guy, although he says it with mirth and not much harm. It has been three days since they first met, and Yoochun’s been staying at the abandoned room next to Junsu's. He doesn’t seem to mind having a complete stranger staying in his house - he enjoys having company while eating his meals or while doing the dishes or while cleaning the living room.
They never talk about Yoochun leaving, and it has never crossed Junsu’s mind until tonight.
They are sprawled on the sofa, Junsu holding a bowl of chips and Yoochun drinking his tea quietly. The TV is tuned to a rerun of an old sappy Korean movie that Junsu seems engrossed in though Yoochun isn’t sure why. Humans confuse him sometimes.
Yoochun moves a bit to look at Junsu directly while the movie pauses for a commercial break. “For your service of helping me,” Yoochun says slowly. “I will grant you one wish.”
Junsu laughs, almost impudently, and turns to Yoochun. “What are you talking about?”
Yoochun amuses him for a bit, a small smile playing on his lips. “I will grant you one wish,” he repeats. “Of anything you ask for.”
“Anything?” Junsu asks in a carefree sing-song voice, but with brows furrowed together in confusion.
“Anything.”
Junsu says the first thing that comes to his mind: “I want you to stay with me forever.”
Forever, Yoochun thinks, is such a short amount of time.
University classes have resumed and Junsu is skeptical at leaving Yoochun alone at first.
“I think I can skip classes today.”
“You should attend your classes.”
“But it’s just the first day! It will just be about introductions and it’s going to be so boooring, Yoochunnieee.”
“I still think you shouldn’t skip your classes.”
“But-”
“I’ll still be here when you come back home.”
And that is the end of their conversation.
Sometimes, Junsu’s still afraid that when he gets back from school, the house would be barren and cold with no trace of Yoochun except for the lingering scent of brewed tea leaves and strawberries.
Yoochun has never broken Junsu’s wish, and when Yoochun had agreed to it easily with a simple “okay” Junsu couldn’t believe him.
(“THAT’S IT?” Junsu shrieks, more of in surprise rather than an actual protest.
“Yes. Okay. And you can’t change your wish! It’s irrevocable.” Yoochun smirks.
“But what about your family? Your friends?”
Yoochun stiffens beside him, his back straight and proud, whole body frozen. “I don’t have any.”
“Well then, I guess we’re the same.” And when Yoochun looks at him, Junsu is smiling, bright and genuine and pained.)
When they talk -mostly Junsu- while preparing dinner, (Yoochun cooking kimchi fried rice and Junsu arranging the table) Junsu thinks that this must be what having a family feels like.
“I don’t remember much of how my parents look like,” Junsu replies when asked about his family, eyes glued to the TV screen.
“All I could remember was that my mother had warm, soft hands, and that I loved her cooking. And that my father used to take me to the park near our old house before we moved here.”
Yoochun doesn’t make any noise, just stays still, stays quiet as Junsu continues. “They left. They told me they were just going to visit someone, but they never came back. My grandfather has been taking care of me until he passed away two years ago.”
Junsu’s eyes darken momentarily. “But don’t say sorry - I don't like it when people do that.” He makes a sour face at the TV. “It's not like you made it happen.”
The next words out of his mouth come as a whisper, like a familiar prayer that has been said too many times. “I know they’ll come back. I know they will. Because years after they left I still remember how their love feels like.”
The scenes move on the screen, but Junsu’s eyes remain fixed on a single spot.
Yoochun meets Changmin-shi on his third month of stay.
Junsu is screaming in the background and pummels himself towards the door when Yoochun had greeted their visitor.
“WHERE IS MY SOUVENIR,” Junsu gasps, clutching at Changmin-shi’s shirt.
“So that’s the first thing you say to your best friend after not seeing him in a long time? No hello? Or welcome back? Or how was the trip?” Changmin-shi says exasperatedly, but pulls out a plastic from his bag and hands it over.
Junsu opens it eagerly. It’s a tie-dyed t-shirt that says, “I <3 OKINAWA” with palm tree designs splattered carelessly on the side.
“I can’t believe you went all the way to Japan and all I got is this lousy t-shirt.” Junsu pouts. “You cheapskate.”
“Yah, stop being ungrateful! At least I got you something. And I know you're obsessed with palm trees."
Junsu opens his mouth for a retort, but Changmin-shi beats him to it. "Don't even deny it! Now how about you introduce me to your new friend?” He slowly turns to Yoochun with inquiring eyes.
“Oh! This is Yoochun-ah. He’s staying with me.” Junsu grins and turns to Yoochun. “And Yoochun, this is-”
“Shim Changmin or Changmin. This idiot’s best and only friend.” Changmin-shi eases into a smile, and bows his head a little.
“Shut up. I’m doing you a favor by being your friend so you would suck less.”
“So says the one who barely socializes like a normal human being. I’m surprised Yoochun would even go near you.” He tugs on Yoochun's arm and pulls him close.
“If you hurt Junsu, I’ll hunt you down.” Changmin-shi jokes and blows a puff of air on Yoochun’s ear.
“Stop being mean to him, Min!” Junsu shouts and grabs Yoochun’s hand. “Your old face is scary enough as it is.”
“I was just kidding!” Changmin-shi says, mouth shaped in an open laugh, but Yoochun notes his eyes tell him otherwise.
Junsu puts the two in charge of their dinner while he stalks the Playstation in the living room.
(“You bum! We’re your guests but you treat us like your slaves.” Changmin-shi complains.)
They still end up cooking with the logical reason that the kitchen is a foreign environment to Junsu.
“Except the refrigerator,” Changmin-shi says.
“And the microwave,” Yoochun adds.
They laugh and fall into an easy, casual conversation; a string of questions and answers going back and forth, with a few things left unsaid. By the time they’re finished, there’s a big bowl of kimchi jjigae and five different side dishes.
“Changmin-shi, I’ll go-”
“Changmin. Just call me Changmin.”
Yoochun smiles.
“And Yoochun?” Changmin asks.
“Yes?”
“Take care of him, okay?” Changmin turns his back and walks towards the living room with their dinner on his hands.
“You didn’t have to ask.”
It is Junsu’s idea to go grocery shopping together and Yoochun gives up after being on the receiving end of his complaints.
(“Yoochunnieee, you never go out of the house. It’s summer and you look so pale! Enjoy the sun with meee~”)
The sun is high and hot above them as they walk down a narrow street.
A scream pierces their ears and Yoochun’s whole body tenses in anticipation.
“What was that?” Junsu asks, but he's already running towards the source before Yoochun can stop him.
They stop when they see the scene before them. The stench of death and desperation is overwhelming and it almost makes Yoochun gag in displeasure.
There is a girl, if one could call her that, with strings of black hair on her head, eye sockets hollow, and a pair of eyeballs dangling off her face. There is dried blood on her neck and thin bones sticking out of her dress.
“I will take you with me to hell, you traitor.” Her lips twist in to a smile, and her hands clutch on the fabrics of the student’s uniform.
“Stop,” the student pleads, begs to let her go. “Please. I thought we were friends.”
“Friends don’t steal each other’s boyfriends.” The ghost snarls, a painful look crossing her face. “You knew how much I loved him.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m really, really sorry,” is all she could say.
Yoochun watches as Junsu intervenes, touches the ghost on her shoulder and says, “Let her go.”
The walk back home is a quiet affair; footsteps falling soundlessly beside each other and hands clasped together. Junsu’s grip is tight. Don’t leave.
The house is empty and dark when they get back. Junsu is exhausted and he just wants to lie down and drift off to another world. The task of cleansing a spirit is never an easy one, and it weighs heavily on Junsu’s heart.
“Do you think I’m a freak?” Junsu asks him after. “Will you leave me?” Like the others?
“No, silly.” Yoochun smiles at him, brushes the pad of his thumb against Junsu’s cheek.
Yoochun finally understands now. Why Junsu doesn’t have that many friends. Why Junsu is always alone. Why Junsu is haunted and hunted. Why Junsu’s parents will never come back.
He knows the reason behind it. He has known it ever since he first met the boy, looked at his eyes, smelled his scent, and kissed him, but he denies it at his convenience. He can feel it in the air, white sparks of electricity and empathy, and it prickles his skin. Divine power.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Junsu pulls Yoochun to his bedroom, lets Yoochun tuck him in and tell him a bedtime story. Yoochun winds a story about the beginning of the universe, from the start of time.
(There are three types of creatures: divine beings, humans, and the fallen angels banished to eternal damnation. And then, there are those rare ones, the halves of two beings put together, but neither accepted by any of the three. Their existence is forbidden, and they are put to death as dictated by the law that governs all races...)
By the time Yoochun finishes, Junsu is already asleep, breathing evenly. Yoochun curls a strand of Junsu's hair around his finger, tucks it behind his ear and whispers, “You’re special. You’ll come to understand that one day.”
"Yoochun-ah, what do you think about love?"
They're both lying on the couch, letting a lazy weekend pass by when Junsu pulls out the question.
Yoochun doesn't answer. How does one tell about something that is so abstract and powerful and destructive? He has seen every ugly side of love that he's too blinded to see anything beyond that. Didn't Junsu see what love did to those two girls?
He's about to say something when Junsu looks up, eyes looking shiny with something akin to hope.
Yoochun keeps his thoughts to himself.
Their second kiss comes unexpectedly.
All that Junsu can remember is initiating the first step, leaning down on Yoochun, and then - darkness.
All that Yoochun felt is soft, warm lips on his own and the need to consume.
When Junsu wakes up in his room, Yoochun is standing by the window, looking out to the world.
(Don’t ever kiss me. Why? Just. Don’t. Okay. A pause. But can I love you? Yoochun sucks in a breath. I don’t think anyone could. But I already am. I don’t think you should. That’s not fair. A lot of things aren't fair. Give me a chance -
I’ll show you what love is.)
Their first night together comes in the form of a rainy day, of nervous fumbling and tangled bed sheets, performing an awkward dance through the night.
Junsu brings a stranger home one day. Yoochun tenses as the wall he has put up bends slightly to someone else’s will. He drops the plate and rushes to the door.
“Junsu!” Yoochun shouts. “Junsu, are you o-”
He stops when he sees them.
“Jaejoong.”
“Hello, younger brother.”
Junsu lets Jaejoong in after he hears their exchange. He shrieks at Yoochun for lying to him -
“I THOUGHT YOU DON’T HAVE A FAMILY.”
“He’s not part of my family.”
“I’m not part of his family.”
- but he just ends up more confused than before. Junsu only calms down after Yoochun promised to explain everything to him, and to give them time to talk.
“What are you doing here?” Yoochun's voice is icy, his posture alert.
“Don’t be like that dongsaeng.” Jaejoong smiles. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“Then what are you here for?”
"They made me temporary King when you left." Jaejoong sits at the edge of Yoochun’s bed and surveys the room leisurely. “I’m here to give you back that position. You know I hate politics and any semblance to leadership.”
Yoochun makes a noncommittal noise and turns around.
“And besides,” Jaejoong’s voice turns serious, “they’re hunting for you. And if they find out you’re with-”
“I know,” Yoochun cuts in. “I know.”
Yoochun sighs. “Will you aid me when the time comes?”
“Of course.” Jaejoong grins. “Consider it as payback for what happened fifty years ago.”
Jaejoong becomes a part of Junsu’s family in just a matter of days.
Judgment day comes sooner than Yoochun expected.
“I smelled angel meat, but instead found the Demon King. It must be my lucky day.”
Bounty hunters, Yoochun's mind screams.
“Get out.” Yoochun says, an underlying threat to his voice. He gives a second to think about Junsu - he’s safe with Jaejoong.
The demon snorts. “Or what? You’ll kill us like how you killed your right hand man? We heard you two were best friends.”
Yoochun stiffens. “You’re not welcome here. This is my last warning.”
“You may be King, but we heard you’re the weakest among your brothers. It would be easy defeating you since we’ve got years of experience behind us. Besides,” he sneers, “you only got the throne because the previous King was so smitten with his bed-warmer.”
The other demon laughs. “Your mother must have been really good then.”
Dear God, Yoochun prays for the first time, don’t let Junsu see me like this.
Part II.
AN: This was originally a Jin/Kame fanfic that I wrote years ago but never finished because I lost interest. :( I'm re-writing/re-posting the story, but with a different couple because I feel more attached to this fandom now than I am with KAT-TUN so maybe that would give me the push to finish it. Also, this is my first time writing YooSu (or basically anything for DBSK/kpop) so uhhhh, hi! I hope I can write more DBSK fics in the future.