Dreamjacked
Title: Dreamjacked
Rating: G
Pairing: Homin
Genre: AU
Summary: A boy steals Yunho's dream.
Yunho knows something’s wrong when he realizes he’s inadvertently skipped a dance meet at the studio. He knows something’s even more wrong when he can’t bring himself to care very much, and skips the next four meets too.
He lays on his bed and tries to put a finger on it. Dance meets were basically his favorite part of the week. Freestyling and sharing new moves, laughing with all his friends, going out afterwards for street food and singing...
He’s skipped five meets, not ‘by mistake’ or because ‘he was so busy he completely forgot’, normal excuses. He just couldn’t raise his head out of the lethargy that he’s been feeling for the last week and a half. He’s been sleeping a lot, floating in the comfortable absence of sensation that it brings. The void feels wrong but he can't think of what right is. There’s no dreams, but there's something beautiful in there, something he can’t remember, and he wakes up feeling numb with disappointment that he’s awake. That thought alone is such a stark contrast to how he really feels, his love for life, that he considers going to a doctor for this strange, sudden apathy.
The apathy that’s got him pinned to his bed, staring at his ceiling, thinking about so much nothing his head almost hurts. He struggles to think about what might have caused this. Food poisoning, a bad night of sleep, going a bit too hard at the gym...none of them fit, and Yunho could punch a wall out of frustration at himself, except no, no he couldn’t. He couldn’t lift a finger if he wanted to.
It’s 6 PM and Yunho decides to go to sleep, to slip into the silver ether and find that beautiful thing that will be by his side.
There’s nothing else he can manage to do.
There’s someone in his room. Yunho’s eyes snap open when he realizes it, and he scoots away from the person leaning near his window.
The person- a young man, tall and thin, with dark hair that falls just above his eyes- looks up, surprised, eyes wide.
Yunho shoots up, adrenalin taking over his reflexes. He grabs whatever’s on his nightstand- fuck, his cellphone- and wields it in front of him.
“Who the fuck are you,” he says. Yunho might be sick or whatever, but he’s also a 5th degree black belt in hapkido and he will not hesitate to take this guy down the second he moves.
The guy just stands there, hands in his pockets, looking like a deer in headlights. He’s wearing a pair of fairly ordinary pale denim cutoffs and a blue-ish shirt, but there’s something strange about the look of him. A silvery, greyish veil seems to fall over his entire being, washing him out and softening his edges. He straightens up slowly, never breaking eye contact with Yunho.
“M’sorry...” he says softly, very softly. He puts his hands up like he means no harm, but Yunho doesn’t relax.
“Who are you. What are you doing in my room,” Yunho says deliberately.
“I...uh...” The guy’s eyes cast down, and Yunho lunges forwards off the bed, trapping him in an arm lock.
“One more time. Who are you, what are you doing in my apartment.”
The guy bends to Yunho’s hold like a broken branch, yielding. He just stays down where Yunho keeps him, and Yunho lets him up a little to force him to look at him. He gives him a jerk.
“My name is Changmin,” the guy finally says, voice oddly calm.
Yunho tightens his hold. “Okay, good. Now, Changmin, why are you in my apartment in the middle of the night.”
Changmin breathes out in an odd little huff. He squirms.
“I...I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I think I took something important from you. I’m so sorry.”
Yunho frowns, and leads Changmin to the bed where he shoves him facedown. He steps back, and crosses his arms.
“You stole something? What was it?”
Changmin struggles to get up and turn around. He finally does, dull alarm all over his features. Yunho memorizes the big brown eyes and high cheekbones, wide lips, in case he has to describe him to a police sketch artist. There is something very unsettling about his face, something like...familiarity.
“I want to return it,” Changmin says hesitantly.
Yunho sighs, and gets up close and personal, leaning over Changmin and grabbing his collar. He pulls him up and looks at his face. Apart from the feeling that he’s seen it before, there’s something else. Changmin’s face feels...inhuman. Even and smooth and his eyes are too dark against his weird pearlescent skin.
“What is ‘it’? If you stole something, give it back to me, and maybe I won’t call the police.” It feels like he’s talking to a small child, and he realizes they’re very close to each other. Changmin looks right into Yunho’s eyes, and Yunho freezes as he brings a hand up to his face. He shoves Changmin back and jumps on him again, this time with a chokehold.
“Did I say you could touch me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Changmin doesn’t gasp for air, he just stares, frowning.
“You said to return it.”
“Return what,” Yunho grits out. “That shouldn’t involve touching my face.”
Changmin shakes his head with some effort, given the pressure on his throat, and closes cold fingers delicately around one of Yunho’s wrists.
Suddenly, Yunho feels normal. Like, last week normal. So normal, he backs off of Changmin a little bit.
“You...you just did something. What did you just do,” he stammers, eyes roving over Changmin’s face for an explanation. He grabs the hand Changmin touched him with and holds it up, examining it.
Changmin sighs and suddenly looks much less illuminated. His skin dulls to a greyish gold, and he looks tired.
“I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles, words falling from his lips. “But you were so bright.”
“Hey,” Yunho says, shaking him. “Who...what are you?”
Changmin shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I need to eat,” he says in a pained tone.
Yunho steps back, and eyes Changmin suspiciously.
“That’s too bad. I don’t normally feed people who break into my house in the middle of the night.”
Changmin sits up slightly, leaning on his elbows. “I’m a dreameater,” he says.
The words hang in the air.
“....a dreameater.” Yunho says. Just to clarify that he actually just heard someone say that.
Changmin nods.
Yunho makes the dubious decision to humor this man, who may or may not be completely delusional.
“And you need to eat. What do...’dreameaters’ eat, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Changmin makes a face that kind of looks like he’s concerned about Yunho’s brain, and if he wasn’t completely unhappy with the entire situation, Yunho would have laughed.
He kind of snorts anyways.
Changmin seems uncomfortable, and he sits up all the way. “You don’t have to believe me. Just let me leave. I won’t come back.”
“No, no. I need to call the cops on you so they can take you back to somewhere that you’ll be safe, because you’re obviously more than a little lost.”
Changmin's jaw tenses. He looks up at Yunho with a plea in his eyes. “Let me leave.”
Yunho rolls his eyes. “If you’re a dreamfairy or whatever, why don’t you just fly away.”
“Dreameater. And you caught me,” Changmin says. “You have to let me go. Or I can’t leave.”
Changmin lays back on Yunho’s bed, collapsing despondently and throwing an arm over his face. It’s all very theatrical.
“I need to eat,” he repeats. Yunho leans a little closer, and Changmin does seem to be...well, going out? Like an ember in ashes. He’s getting duller and greyer, at any rate.
“Say I was willing to feed you, maybe,” Yunho says, kind of hating himself. “To see if you’re telling the truth, maybe. How would I go about doing that.”
“Go to sleep,” Changmin says tonelessly.
Yunho laughs. “Go to sleep. With you in my room. Okay. No.”
“Sleep with me, then.”
Yunho chokes a little. “What?”
“I’ll sleep before you. We can dream together.”
“You said you eat dreams. Why would I dream with someone who eats dreams? That’s like...that’s like a zebra going to see lions at the zoo. It’s a bad idea.”
“I’ll only eat a little. I learned my lesson. I won’t take too much.”
Yunho watches Changmin critically, then sits down on the bed next to him.
“You need to go to sleep first,” he warns him.
Changmin nods. “Okay.” And his eyes close, head suddenly lolling to the side.
Yunho stares at him, then taps his face. Changmin’s face is blank and unresponsive, and it can’t be anything but fake, but it seems so genuine.
He pats Changmin’s face some more, then lays down next to him, keeping his eyes on his face and watching for any signs of acting.
Yunho can’t believe he’s actually playing along with this, but there’s something in Changmin’s face, that strange fine bluntness, something so familiar, that makes him wonder if it’s not true.
It’s not waking up.
It’s an inversion of it. Yunho opens his eyes, and is immediately pushed into a corner by-
“Keep your head down,” Changmin says, and Yunho somehow rationalizes it all.
Changmin is gorgeous and vibrant now, deep golden skin and brown hair that curls against his cheeks with long lashes and pretty lips. He’s everything Yunho’s ever dreamt of.
“It’s dangerous here, I didn’t think- I didn’t think of it, I’m sorry, I would never bring you here knowingly,” Changmin murmurs, pressing closer to Yunho. His hair brushes against Yunho’s cheek, and Yunho brings his hands up around Changmin's back. Changmin smells cold and fresh, like a winter night.
“It’s okay. What’s going on,” Yunho says, looking over Changmin’s shoulder. “Where...where are we?”
The place that stretches before him is vast and empty, and doesn’t make much sense when Yunho looks closer. They seem to be on a beach, except the water horizon is all around them, flat and distant. They’re at a strange structure, just a corner of concrete walls that form nothing. Everything is shrouded in a cloud, mist that seeps around their legs, everything except Changmin, who is vivid and alive.
Something moves above them, and Yunho holds Changmin a little tighter. He watches as something massive and dark floats over them, hidden in the fog.
“They’re looking for you,” Changmin whispers close to his ear. He sounds frantic. “They’re looking for you because you’re a dreamer, and I brought you here...I’m so stupid, I’m sorry.”
Yunho ignores him. “How do we get out of here,” he asks, looking around.
The things above them are still floating around, strange disturbances in the atmosphere that rumble and crack when they sweep low.
Changmin pushes back, and his face is hot and flushed from not breathing enough.
“You have to wake up,” he says.
“Will you be there when I do?”
Changmin stares him, then shakes his head. “If you go, you’ll be safe. Awake.”
Yunho looks at him, then all around him. “What’s wrong with this place,” he breathes out.
“It’s the cache for all dreams,” Changmin says. “It’s horrible. That’s why I left it. Your dreams are much brighter, they’re so bright...so much more beautiful. I don’t know what that’s like. Having a dream. So I stole yours. But then you just...stopped being you. I couldn’t see you at all.”
Yunho realizes why Changmin’s face is familiar.
“You’re always in my dreams,” he says. “You only see me in my dreams? And then you stole mine, and came to give it back.”
Changmin nods.
Yunho has an idea. Maybe it will be totally impossible in dream physics, but it’s worth a try.
“Can I dream us out of here?” he asks.
Changmin looks at him like he’s an idiot.
“That makes no sense. You’re in a dream, how would you- ...I mean, I don’t know, really. I don’t know how to dream, so...maybe you’d know better.” Changmin starts to sound excited. “Actually- yes. Yes, yes, you’re a dreamer, you can change this place.”
“But...how do I dream? I’m awake. Do I just start- thinking?”
And suddenly everything in Yunho’s world is Changmin.
“I know you can do it,” Changmin says. “I’ve been with you for a long time.”
Yunho’s eyes snap open, and he jolts forward.
It’s fairly dark, the only light a golden glow from a shiny desk lamp next to him. He looks around the room he’s in. It seems that it's an office. Right, his office. He’s sitting at a desk with several piles of file folders and papers. There’s a large window to his right, with a beautiful view of the city lights.
He loses a moment watching the city move, little lights darting here and there, electronic billboards flashing whatever they have to say. A noise suddenly comes from a door all the way in the corner, and he waits expectantly to see who it is.
The intern, Shim Changmin, pokes his head in. He jolts a little when he sees Yunho, then schools his features into a passive mask.
“Ah, sorry, Mr. Jung. I didn’t think anyone would still be here. Sorry to disturb you.”
Yunho smiles, shaking his head.
“It’s alright. I guess I lost track of time.” He yawns and stretches, the fabric of his suit bunching up at his shoulders. “What time is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Changmin steps in, pulling out his cellphone. “Quarter till ten, sir.”
“You don’t have to be so formal,” Yunho insists. “Just Yunho is fine.”
Now Changmin looks wary. Yunho realizes that this is probably uncomfortable for him, given their differences in age and status, and he sighs.
“I’ll be going, then,” he says, and makes a show of getting up and gathering his belongings.
Changmin just watches him, standing by his own desk.
Yunho tosses his coat over his arm and grabs his briefcase, making to walk swiftly past the unnervingly quiet intern. He does good work though, so Yunho hopes he sticks around.
“Have a good night, Changmin,” he says, but Changmin’s hand shoots out and grabs his arm. There's an odd sensation on the fringes of Yunho's senses, lurking in his peripherals, but all he can process is some kind of cracking noise.
Yunho turns to look at Changmin, wondering what the problem is.
“Something wrong?” he asks, smiling nervously.
The cracking grows louder. Changmin’s eyes are big and dark, and his lips are pressed tight into a frown.
“Not far enough,” he says blankly. His features strain more, and Yunho watches as his eyes squeeze shut. “Keep dreaming. I’ll catch up.”
Yunho’s pulled out of his world by the realization that now, he doesn’t work in this office, he’s not a prosecutor, he’s not pulling a common all-nighter- Changmin is depending on him, dream-like Changmin with the golden skin and big eyes and this is just a disguise for him. Sure enough, Changmin’s not looking so professional now, he’s opened his eyes, and they're fixed on the window behind Yunho. Explosive cracks shatter the air around them.
“Dream something else, something better,” he urges in a desperate whisper, and Yunho does.
His wife is across from him. She’s gorgeous- pretty in a reserved way, with the brightest smile Yunho’s ever seen.
They’re having dinner. It’s a quiet place known for it’s amazing food and intimate atmosphere. Yunho had to make a reservation weeks ago, but it’s worth it for this special occasion. Their second anniversary.
She tilts her head at just the right angle, sending her hair slipping down her shoulder, and Yunho is happy that they’ve made it this far. They’re perfect for each other.
He spears a piece of pasta onto his fork, and wonders why he feels like he’s forgetting something.
A little later, he helps his wife into a taxi. They sit in comfortable silence through the drive, until the taxi pulls to a stop in front of their apartment.
They must have had a little too much to drink, because both of them can’t stop giggling as they ascend the stairs. His wife’s fingers twine around his own, and he squeezes them.
Yunho digs in his pocket for the keys once they reach their door. His wife sighs happily as she looks out at the city lights, and he feels a sense of deja vu when he looks out at them too, wrapping his arms around her.
Muffled shouts startle them, and Yunho turns around to see a tall figure stumble out of the apartment next to theirs. A guy, college age- the boy who had come to their door asking sheepishly if he could borrow some soybean paste once. Shim Changmin. He sways like a leaf and the door slams behind him. It sends him staggering to the opposite wall, before he slides down it to settle on the floor.
Yunho steps forward before he realizes what he’s doing, and crouches down in front of him. His wife is right behind him and he waves a hand, cautioning her to stay back.
“Are you alright? Hey, are you okay?”
Changmin’s face is red apart from the giant bruise on the side of it, and his eyes are glassy. He shakes his head before dropping it to his knees, a tremulous sigh rattling his frame.
“We need to do something, this isn’t right,” his wife whispers, her professional nature as a nurse peeking through.
“It’s not like we know what exactly is going on, though,” Yunho says, but his wife knows full well saying it is a formality, that he’s already on the same page as her. “Let’s get him inside, then we can call for help.”
“M’sorry,” Changmin mumbles. It's hard to hear him for some reason.
Yunho and his wife both shake their heads, refusals already filling the air.
“No, I mean,” Changmin looks up, shaking his bangs out of his eyes, and he looks straight at Yunho. Yunho almost has to read his lips, the hall is so loud. “I messed up. This isn’t far enough. Please, please try again.”
And then Yunho remembers a distant dream where it was Changmin across the table from him- gorgeous, pretty in his own way, with the brightest smile Yunho’s ever seen. He tilts his head at just the right angle, and hair falls against his jaw and Yunho is happy that they made it this far.
Yunho ignores the cacophony, tries to remember what the right dream is, and tries to keep one thing in mind as he begins to dream again-
Shim Changmin should be there too.
Yunho lets his friends know he has to cut early, and exits the studio after a quick shower.
They’ve been practicing hard for the competition- it’s in two weeks, and while their routines are down, there’s a lot of adjustments and polishing needed to bring their choreography to the next level. The level that will win.
He bounces down the steps, out into the sunshine of a fall day. It’s a little chilly, but he’s still heated up from practice, so it’s comfortable.
His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he grabs it and checks as he makes his way through a thick stream of people on the subway stairs.
There’s a text from his friend asking if he’ll be free to come drinking later that night. He texts her back, no, but thank you, it’s my sister’s birthday, and he checks the sign above the subway platform. The train’s due in about four minutes, and he kills time by examining the huge ads around the platform.
Someone’s staring at him from across the tracks on the other side, a short man with tousled black hair and a white bag. His face is expressionless, dead black eyes fixed on Yunho, and Yunho shifts uncomfortably.
This place seems a little...wrong.
He paces down the platform a bit, and when he looks up, the man has followed him, still standing with the same blank look, but absolutely in a different place than before.
Yunho feels his heart speed up, and suddenly there’s a blur of a train separating them.
He hurries to get to the door, just needs to get into one of the cars before that person does something weird like crawl across the tracks to get to his platform or jump onto the train somehow.
A huge crowd of people bursts from the nearest door, all making their way out with no regard to anyone around them. The automated voice announces the train’s destination, and Yunho’s about to rush inside the car when someone emerges.
Tall and wrapped in a light beige overcoat that flares out around him, dark eyes and dark hair that’s cropped short on the sides, the fringe pushed artfully out of the face- and he looks panicked.
Yunho catches his arm just as he rushes by, and the person swings to look at him.
“Changmin,” Yunho breathes out.
That’s right- this is the dream where Yunho’s a dancer, but an old classmate follows him and kills him. Changmin shakes his head frantically.
His voice is clear like a bell over the din of the station.
“No, this is the wrong dream.”
But there’s not much time, and Yunho doesn’t let go of Changmin’s arm.
“Take me to where it’s safe then, Changmin! I can’t do this, I’m not even sure what I’m running from!”
Changmin grits his teeth, and looks over his shoulder past the train. Yunho follows his line of sight and sees the man from across the platform walking, and this is the part where he heads up the stairs and crosses over the tracks. Yunho looks back at Changmin, hoping his point came across, and Changmin just huffs a little sigh and-
Everything is washed out, pale blue. The room is made out of some sort of chalky concrete. It’s more of a cave than a room, the floors melding up against the walls and the walls melding up against the ceiling, like a tunnel.
The room is peaceful, serene. Repressed.
It’s quiet, and Changmin is standing next to him, eyes closed and hands balled into fists. Yunho looks around for something, anything, and all he sees is a box on the ground. He glances at Changmin again, then approaches the box cautiously. It’s covered in a thick layer of the white chalk, but it appears to be made of a dark stone. Concentric circles are carved into its surface under the dust, and Yunho runs his fingers over them when he kneels in front of it.
He opens the box, and suddenly a wail, plaintive and heart-rending, rips out of the box, thrashing around the room. Through the incredible volume, Yunho thinks that it might sound like 'why'.
Changmin suddenly lunges forward, wrapping his arms around Yunho and yanking him back.
“We need to go. Somewhere else. Start dreaming, make it good, make it a good dream because we can’t stay here and there’s no place else to go-”
The stage lights are a welcome warmth on his skin. He’s standing back to back with Changmin, and he can feel Changmin’s fire. He doesn’t even need to look. It’s been almost ten years, they might as well be the same person in two separate bodies.
Yunho couldn’t be happier.
“CASSIOPEIA!” He yells, and a literal roar of applause fills the dome as his response.
He knows Changmin looks up at that, knows that he closes his eyes, smiles, because he’s memorized that face so well, spent so much time worrying and wondering and learning each expression; he’s run his fingers along that jaw, against that forehead, over those lips, because he and Changmin are just halves. Together, they are TVXQ. The Gods Rising From the East.
Later, after the show, Yunho’s ramped up. Unusually so. Changmin’s laying on a couch, riding out the adrenalin and the endorphins, and Yunho paces.
He looks in the mirror to check and make sure his face isn’t melting or something. It’s not, but when he turns around, he notices Changmin looking at him from where he’s sprawled.
They usually don’t talk much after a concert, too wrecked to be coherent, too wired to trust their mouths, but Changmin’s sitting up and looking at him.
“Hyung,” he says, voice low and eyes intent.
Yunho walks to stand by Changmin, and runs a hand over his damp hair.
“Yeah, Changminnie?”
Changmin just shuts his eyes and loops a hand around Yunho’s leg.
“Thank you.”
Yunho tilts, his head, and skims a curious touch over Changmin's cheek.
“What for?” he asks.
“For letting me steal your dream.”
Yunho leans down and cages Changmin with his arms. He looks into Changmin’s eyes and moves in to touch noses with him.
“You didn’t steal it. This dream is big enough for the both of us.”
Nothing changes, nothing swirls around them to whisk them away, and neither of them wake up.
Part of my Nano. This feels a little silly after glitterburn's amazing dreameater fic, but any similarities are honestly unintentional, and I felt the context and approach are different enough to warrant posting anyways. Forgive me;;; I was also under major Momo-itis when I wrote this...cannot wait to see that movie.