[Fic] Ballad of the Moon : 9
Title: Ballad of the Moon
Pairing: Jaemin, Yoomin
Length: Chapter 9/?
Genre: fantasy, adventure, angst,drama
Disclaimer: idea based on goose-girl fairy tale ~
Summary: Changmin has no control over his life as he's forced to leave his home to become the escort of the Crown Prince in a faraway land. Before he can even reach his destination, he's betrayed by his own guard and barely escapes death, finding himself alone and forgotten in a dark forsaken land where magic is real and even the moon has deserted the sky.
A/N: this is a little short, but some unexpected things happened and gota rewrite some of the next chapter to make sure its all right :)
Previous Chapters: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight
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He hovered just behind his father, as close as he dared to go while his father turned the sky dark, heavy ominous black clouds swirling and gathering above them, but he felt still just too infuriatingly far away.
His own tense angry energy sparked faint flashes of lightning high above the clouds, not close enough to break through, a weak faint parallel to the way his power struggled and fought against the barrier keeping it wound tight and useless deep within him.
Frustrating, so frustrating as he could do nothing but watch and wait silently for orders.
His stomach churned, hands balled into tight fists by his sides as he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Changmin...and the way he’d frozen in place with his eyes locked with the Crown Princes’. Hand in hand. And smiling.
His head throbbed with the force of emotion threatening to choke him, clouding his mind as black and dangerous as the sky, as he ached to rip them apart, to crush Prince Yoochun’s very bones, snap his fingers, gouge out those eyes, break him so badly he could never look at nor touch Changmin again.
Trembling with the effort of holding back, as well as due to the internal fight against his father’s bindings that made him unable to use his powers, Jaejoong shook silently with the anger slowly eating him up.
How dare he come here? How dare he touch Changmin? Why was he here? Was it not enough that he’d already stolen into Changmin’s mind, stolen away some of his precious light and forced Jaejoong out? How dare he try to come take him away?
He pressed his lips tightly together as the words raged and screamed in his head, fueling his anger as it coursed hotly through his body. Nothing but a rigid shadow behind his father. Not allowed to come forward. Not allowed to even do anything. The injustice of it burned, and soon he was starting to resent his father, frustrated and hating the way he was unable to perform barely the simplest spells. The feelings rose only too easily, encouraged by days on end of wanting to do something, anything, but being unable to.
He was being punished for his mistake. Punished in the worst way as his father seemed to have allowed the Prince to come here just to cruelly shove in his face the severity of his mistake. To show him just what he’d done, and making him unable to do anything but watch and swallow down the bitter realization that this was all his fault.
Yes, they were originally connected through his curse, he’d driven them together, but here before him now was something else. Something deeper. Something that tightened his throat with anxiety and panic, resonating in the way Changmin was looking at Prince Yoochun in a way he’d never seen before. Strong, but soft. Full of something soothing and warm, not the hot fire he’d always direct at Jaejoong, nor the absence of any emotion or heat he’d cast towards him recently. Empty and cold, as if hiding himself from Jaejoong, as if Jaejoong wasn’t even important enough for him to get worked up.
The difference was like a shock to his system. The expression almost unrecognizable on Changmin’s face, something he’d never even been able to imagine. And it made him even angrier.
He hadn’t realized, hadn’t let him self even consider, that the connection that formed between them actually went deeper than he could see. That single moment of carelessness on his part in which he didn’t ensure absolute isolation and perfection during the incantation, and he’d caused them to bind irretrievably.
Looking at them now, and he knew with a certainty that clenched his heart, that even though the curse had been removed, even after the bruises would fade, there was something he could never undo. Something linked the two of them in a way he couldn’t fully understand or ever properly fathom. Something he knew only too well at the same time. Attraction.
Seeing them before him now it was undeniable. It had started as a small annoying tickle at the back off his mind, something unpleasant that he’d been unable to brush away or shut up ever since the day he’d seen Prince Yoochun’s energy within Changmin. It had only grown stronger, more intense with each passing day, and he knew only too well what Changmin saw when he dreamed at night.
Night after night he’d spent hidden in the shadows of Changmin’s room. Refusing to let him out of his sight even with the curse removed and his body well on the way to recovery. But then Changmin had always started dreaming, something that changed the planes of his face, something that made him sigh in his sleep, the softest sweetest huff of air before his face relaxed into the faintest imitation of a smile.
And Jaejoong had nearly lost his breath, forgotten he wasn’t supposed to be there, forgotten he couldn’t use his powers, but just reacting and wanting in, wanting to know what caused such a beautiful expression. His energy had raged like a caged storm, but he was only able to barely brush Changmin’s consciousness with the faintest slip of a touch. It had been just enough for him to see exactly what Changmin hid behind closed eyes, and had been just enough for him to prick Changmin awake time and time again late into the darkest hours of the night.
Because the image that had flooded his mind like the imprint of a bright flash even after closing his eyes against the radiance, had been such a shock. Because a strange faint wash of feelings that weren’t his own had come with it. He’d tasted the afterimage of something so immensely beautiful and indescribable, and it wasn’t possible that it could be theirs. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, hadn’t wanted Changmin to have that for another single moment, even if that meant them both losing sleep for days on end.
Still, nothing could prevent him from entering Changmin’s room each night, and Changmin was never able to find him hidden like a wraith in the dark. Never able to escape his lingering gaze, the touch of eyes across pitch darkness. Never able to hide from him as he watched over him, even though he always seemed to try his best to attribute it to his imagination and ignore his presence.
But now, even after all those nights of watching him, even after hours enraptured merely with the intensely intimate caress of just eyes, hours of memorizing the sensual movements of Changmin’s body in sleep, the desire, the feeling of being so incredibly alive with pure feeling...all of those precious moments were shoved painfully in his face. As if they were petty, dirty even, nothing compared to what they had created so easily without him, nothing despite all his time spent focusing on Changmin alone.
Because he could feel it so powerfully now, so real and undeniable before him. The feel of their energies meeting, not clashing or fighting for superiority like most dominant royal bloods would, but mixing, melding together into a seamlessly woven single being. Something he couldn’t even feel properly it was so bright. The familiar enchanting gold of Changmin. The searing white of Prince Yoochun. And it scared him in the absolute force of its power. In its perfect union.
Something he couldn’t have. Something that defied all he’d ever known. Something that excluded him. Something that was taking Changmin away from him before his very eyes, slowly but surely day by day. And Changmin was growing brighter before him, more than he’d ever yet seen, but not because of him. Because of another person. Someone who complimented him rather than stealing away his power and beauty.
And it hurt to even think it and compare himself to it. That single fact alone was enough to boil his insides, uncontrollable anger so sweet and gratifying in its mindless fury, filling him with nothing but intention. To break and destroy and take. To force things back to how they should be. To make Changmin look at him alone, to make him have no other option than giving his light solely to Jaejoong.
He would take it from him forcefully if he had to, brutally, so completely until there was nothing of the Prince left and Changmin would be bound to him, would have no choice but to stay with him, depend on him. Until Changmin would finally be his entirely like he was supposed to be.
His father was taking his time to slowly stalk a circle around the two of them. Presence smothering and crushing everything around them. They were clutching pathetically to each other’s hands, two pairs of terrified eyes unable to flee before the power of his father. They made quite the pair, he thought spitefully, even as he was only able to watch from the side, increasingly upset, raw jealous anger choking him with the raging thundering of his heart in his ears. His body was overly hot and tense, aching with the intensity of too many things he just couldn’t control.
His father finally came to a stop, leaning in close to Yoochun and whispering into his ear. The Prince shuddered with the proximity, unable to even flinch away, face pale, and Jaejoong knew there was nothing but his father’s spell keeping him standing on his own two feet.
He didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for the moment his father finally leaned slowly back, giving him the smallest flicker of a glance as the command came at last. Much too late, but Jaejoong was moving before he’d even finished speaking.
“Take him away.”
He reached for Changmin’s arm instantly, fingers rough and nails cruelly digging into both of their hands as he forced their fingers apart one digit at a time. They slipped apart at last, and the pressure lifting from his chest merely relocated to a place just behind his eyes, blinding him and clouding everything into a single-minded need to claim what was his.
Without even thinking, he’d taken advantage of Prince Yoochun’s immobility to shove him fiercely in the chest just where he knew dark ugly bruises lay hidden. Shoved him hard, charged with the uncontrollable rush of childish possessiveness. The Prince fell helplessly to the ground, unable to so much as catch himself. Jaejoong couldn’t even take satisfaction in the grunt of surprised pain, nothing able to subdue the anger that rose in reaction to the look that now crossed Changmin’s face as he watched Yoochun fall.
Hot and flushed in a heartbeat, and he gripped Changmin painfully tight, promptly turning to drag him away. He couldn’t see anything but blinding fiery red hot nothing, it warped his vision and swelled dangerously in his chest.
Mine. MINE. How dare you look at him like that?
And he was powerless, useless, unable to act on all his instincts and make Changmin his right then and there. As weak and disgusting as any other human, and he raged against his constraints, never having hated them more. Never having hated his father so much, hating Prince Yoochun, hating Changmin even as he still just wanted him. So badly.
He refused to let him go now for anything. He would show him there was no other life but him. And he dragged Changmin stumbling into the house, mere seconds were enough for his anger to grow and billow, ready to ignite as soon as he got Changmin down the hallway into his room.
He slammed the door open so hard it crashed and ricocheted loudly off the wall. Even the noise was too weak and dead to satisfy or placate him. Even the sound of Changmin’s body crashing to the ground as he threw him forcefully to the floor wasn’t enough to break through the rage that had consumed him.
He was on top of him the next moment, the new-found power lent by pure unrestricted anger fueling him almost more than his own bound powers could ever do as he pinned him harshly to the ground.
His hands shook as they clenched about Changmin’s shoulders, seeing with a far off detached part of his mind the way his own hands seemed to be glowing hotly white, radiating heat that burned and seared Changmin’s skin instantly.
He couldn’t stop himself, was too far gone to even want to stop himself as Changmin bucked and thrashed under his hold, silently crying out as the smell of burnt skin filled his nose sickeningly. Not enough. Still not enough to satisfy him.
He shook Changmin roughly, leaning down over him, crowding into his space to yell directly into his face.
“How dare you! You know your place; you’re mine!” Changmin’s whole body struggled against him, face twisting in pain as his fingers dug more deeply into his shoulders. “Scream! Beg me to stop!”
He almost couldn’t register the fact that Changmin’s hands were clamped tightly on his arms, struggling to shove him off. He strengthened his grip, feeling skin give way beneath his hands, mind filled with nothing but the crazed need for Changmin to submit to him, wanting him to repent. To hurt.
Without thinking, his hands moved of their own accord to encircle Changmin’s throat instead, pressing, clenching, burning and suffocating him. Changmin’s hands scrabbled against his arms, chest, shoulders, tearing away his hood before his desperately searching fingers found his hair, sinking in and ripping at it violently. Jaejoong hissed in pain, unable to fight the strong tug that forced his head down, pulling him forward until suddenly they were face to face.
The world went still as their eyes met, mere centimeters away, and they both froze, bodies tensed and trembling with rage, adrenaline, fight.
Changmin’s eyes were burning, lit with a golden spark gleaming faintly within their depths, as if trying to force its way out. There was no fear there, just pure passionate anger, a will still much too strong to be broken, glaring at him with so much hate and life.
And Changmin’s hands then tightened, ripping out hair as he tried to roll them over, nearly dislodging Jaejoong’s hands from his throat with the sudden movement. But in that single moment lost in Changmin’s eyes, and Jaejoong had lost his hold on reality.
Because Changmin’s energy had broken free like never before, glowing within his eyes, reaching out to envelope him whole, warm, intensely warm, and so deliriously sweet. His whole body seized up at the contact, back arching with pleasure as it wrapped around him, intimate fire caressing every inch of his skin.
And his brain simply turned off, just feeling, just reacting and obeying instinct. His hands squeezed Changmin’s neck tightly until he gasped out the last of his air, hands slipping from Jaejoong’s hair to fall limply to the floor as his eyes began to roll back into his head. Then Jaejoong’s hands moved to fist Changmin’s long hair, tugging his face closer to look down into his eyes. They were opened wide, now gone dark and dilated, lips parted invitingly as he gasped for air, cheeks flushed beautifully, and before he even knew what he was doing, Jaejoong leaned down.
A single tug in his hair to tilt his face up, and he was crushing his lips in a bruising kiss. Hot and sloppy, devouring what was helplessly and freely opened for him. Changmin was momentarily stunned and unable to resist as he kissed him hard, heart pounding against his ribs as heat exploded around them.
The intense anger all instantly melted into mind blowing pleasure as he drowned in the fireworks bursting behind his eyes and in his stomach. Just a few minutes of pure bliss, unbelievable pleasure, and then something sharp and painful cut into his tongue.
He drew back in surprise with hot tangy blood filling his mouth, looking down to see it smeared beautifully across Changmin’s lips. His shock lasted just long enough for Changmin to gain the upper hand as with a violent twist of his body and rough hands shoving against him, he sent Jaejoong sprawling on the hard dirty floor.
His breath was knocked clean from his body and he gasped painfully as Changmin was suddenly on top of him, straddling his hips, fist raising in slow motion before falling too fast for his dazed brain to follow.
The blow fell powerfully against his jaw, knocking his head sharply against the ground as an odd ringing filled his ears. He blinked the stars out of his eyes, turning back in time to see Changmin so strong, hot and alive and dangerous above him. His arm was already lifting to deliver the next blow and before Jaejoong could even realize the flicker of something sticking in his chest could possibly be fear, something white blanked out his whole vision.
The next moment it burst from his mouth in a rush of cold syllables that nearly froze his throat on the way out. It struck Changmin straight in the chest, knocking him forcefully backwards. He flew a good few feet into the air before landing in a sickening heap on the ground. He was deathly still. The room fell silent.
Only Jaejoong’s own breathy gasps filled the hot stuffy air, as he struggled to breathe around the ice that seemed to coat the inside of his chest. He shivered uncontrollably, knowing nothing but cold for the next few excruciating minutes.
He lay stunned as feeling ever so slowly crept back into him. Long painful minutes in which he slowly became aware of himself, of the state of his body. He ached everywhere, down to his very core that still seemed too cold and infinitely gaping open. Like something had been torn from his very center.
He hadn’t done it on purpose. It was nothing he’d ever heard before, nothing his father had ever done, a language he didn’t know nor could ever remember learning, and he hadn’t the slightest idea where it came from. All he knew was that it hurt horribly. Contrary to the ice clutching his throat, fresh blood pooled hotly in his mouth and he nearly choked on it, turning his head weakly to spit it out.
When he’d finally regained his breath and a semblance of warmth began to return to his bone chilled limbs, he slowly, painfully pushed himself up into a sitting position. Then his eyes fell upon Changmin and he forgot how to breathe.
He lay as if dead. His shirt was torn open, revealing a brutal looking gash across skin that was so pale and drained of all color until it was almost a sickeningly blue. There was no blood that he could see, and as he scrambled to his knees, crawling over to him, he saw that it looked as if he’d cut him with something so cold it had burned him open. It stood out in stark contrast to the angry looking burn marks marring the skin of his neck and the red blistering welts opened on his shoulders.
Jaejoong felt sick, light headed and weak. He swayed dangerously, hands falling to the ground to support himself as he gasped for air that was suddenly hard to come by. What had he done? He clenched his eyes tightly closed, as if blocking out the sight would make it untrue, would undo it all.
He felt threatened, as if something had been forced from him without his consent, something breaking free on its own power to strike Changmin down cruelly. And he didn’t know what it was, didn’t know what it had done. And he was all too rudely cast back to the small terrified child that had first attempted to cast a curse, something that had gone wrong and decapitated the man only halfway, body ruptured open and gushing red everywhere as screams tore at his ears, filled his very soul. Something he didn’t mean to do. Something he couldn’t control. And he was so scared.
With a pathetic moan, Jaejoong curled into himself, swallowing around the bile rising in his throat, swallowing down the intense feeling of a fear he couldn’t put a name to, couldn’t recognize or even remember where it came from. Something that made him want to cling onto anything that could hold him back and prevent him from being lost in the vastness, the unknown, and then the mind numbing fear of that something that bound him body and soul and crushed him into a confining prison he couldn’t break out of.
He didn’t even know if it was his own memory or something resurfacing from a nightmare he couldn’t even recall, but it seemed so much bigger than life, so infinitely powerful, and he didn’t even want to know.
Snapping his eyes open, he forced the images away. Closing his mind, he almost frantically searched for the warm familiarity of his own powers bound tight and safe deep within him. They reached for him in turn, comforting and real, and he let out a ragged sigh. He needed them back. He couldn’t fight that unknown coldness. He needed to blot it out and force it away, needed his own powers to protect and strengthen himself.
His eyes came back to rest on Changmin. He avoided looking at the mysterious wound, unable to bear the thought that it was real, that he’d made it...or rather the foreign coldness had made it through him. And he reached out with trembling hands to feel for Changmin’s pulse.
His skin was rather cool to the touch, even as the blood pumped slowly through the vein of his neck. Irregular but present, and as soon as he felt it he snatched his hand back as if touching him too long would cause the nameless power hiding dormant within him to rear itself once again and attack.
Because Changmin was shrouded with an ugly grey dullness. Stripped of all his light and warmth, so small and broken and lifeless. He stared at Changmin’s face almost with unseeing eyes. Why...how had this happened? What had he done to him? No...what had that cold monster hidden within him done?
He couldn’t bear to look at him. He couldn’t bear to see yet again something that had gone wrong, a horrible mistake that he couldn’t undo. And he was too freaked out, too close to sinking back into the fear he remembered through odd fleeting glimmers of a long ago youth, some person that wasn’t him any longer, something he wouldn’t let himself remember or return to, and he scrambled back away from Changmin’s still body.
He was alive, and for now that’s all he cared to know. He couldn’t even think about trying to fix it, to try and heal the gaping wound that stared back at him like an accusation. And he’d nearly forgotten all about the other marks, mere flesh wounds compared to the perverse laceration that cut through the center of Changmin’s chest.
But he couldn’t stay near him for fear that unknown coldness would seize him again, for all he knew was that it had been brought to life by Changmin, spurred by the fire that had exploded within him as he took everything so completely away from Changmin.
Maybe it had been him who had drained him so horribly...maybe it had really been him who attacked him, and he’d been too blinded to realize. Led blindly by pure anger, passion, lust...things he couldn’t remember how they felt anymore now that they’d left him.
He was too thoroughly shaken. He just didn’t know anything anymore. His whole world had been turned upside down in just a few short minutes, he’d felt too many things he couldn’t control, lost himself to new emotions and things latent within his own body, and he was already turning his back on the body still laying cold and lonely on the floor.
He staggered to the door, hands shaking violently as he fumbled with it, struggling to find enough strength to drag it closed. To hide his mistake behind it. To lock it out of sight. The world tilted dangerously, and his breath caught in his chest. He sagged against the wood as it finally clicked shut, much too quiet of a sound against the crowd of shrill noises filling his mind.
His fingers were already moving to turn the lock. Rusty and bent, long out of use, but still sliding into place with the same finality as always.
Leaving the locked door behind him, the shuffled down the dark hall. Each step and breathing became a little easier, strength returned to his legs, and the numbing white noise in his head faded. Each step and he was forcing himself to believe he wasn’t hiding or locking an ugly secret away, but merely returning Changmin to his room, locking him there to simply keep him inside this time.
But the chill still lingered deep within him, festering, lurking, waiting, even as he stepped out to a once again blindingly sunny day. No hot emotions sparked or flared to life even as he turned his gaze to where his father now had Prince Yoochun kneeling on the ground before him.
Something that would have brought him selfish satisfaction if time reversed only so far as just before him entering the house with Changmin. But now he felt nothing. He had managed to suppress it all during that infinitely long journey down the hallway, had struggled and succeeded in recapturing the emptiness that used to be his everything.
But still the tiny prick of coldness wouldn’t leave him, and his eyes locked on the sharp lines of his father’s shoulders from the back. Yes...he wasn’t alone...his father would know, he knew everything. He was the only one who could make it alright again, and he clung to the sudden found security from a person he’d never once reached for in his life. He took a deep breath before lifting his foot and taking the smallest of steps forward.
The Sorcerer instantly turned to face him with his usual easy slow grace, turned with his back as straight and tall as always, turned as if he’d already been waiting for him. But for the first time in years, their eyes met.
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next chapter~
((A/N: omggg i suddenly don't know where this chapter is going! o_o that wasn't really supposed to happen XDD~~))
Pairing: Jaemin, Yoomin
Length: Chapter 9/?
Genre: fantasy, adventure, angst,drama
Disclaimer: idea based on goose-girl fairy tale ~
Summary: Changmin has no control over his life as he's forced to leave his home to become the escort of the Crown Prince in a faraway land. Before he can even reach his destination, he's betrayed by his own guard and barely escapes death, finding himself alone and forgotten in a dark forsaken land where magic is real and even the moon has deserted the sky.
A/N: this is a little short, but some unexpected things happened and gota rewrite some of the next chapter to make sure its all right :)
Previous Chapters: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight
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He hovered just behind his father, as close as he dared to go while his father turned the sky dark, heavy ominous black clouds swirling and gathering above them, but he felt still just too infuriatingly far away.
His own tense angry energy sparked faint flashes of lightning high above the clouds, not close enough to break through, a weak faint parallel to the way his power struggled and fought against the barrier keeping it wound tight and useless deep within him.
Frustrating, so frustrating as he could do nothing but watch and wait silently for orders.
His stomach churned, hands balled into tight fists by his sides as he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Changmin...and the way he’d frozen in place with his eyes locked with the Crown Princes’. Hand in hand. And smiling.
His head throbbed with the force of emotion threatening to choke him, clouding his mind as black and dangerous as the sky, as he ached to rip them apart, to crush Prince Yoochun’s very bones, snap his fingers, gouge out those eyes, break him so badly he could never look at nor touch Changmin again.
Trembling with the effort of holding back, as well as due to the internal fight against his father’s bindings that made him unable to use his powers, Jaejoong shook silently with the anger slowly eating him up.
How dare he come here? How dare he touch Changmin? Why was he here? Was it not enough that he’d already stolen into Changmin’s mind, stolen away some of his precious light and forced Jaejoong out? How dare he try to come take him away?
He pressed his lips tightly together as the words raged and screamed in his head, fueling his anger as it coursed hotly through his body. Nothing but a rigid shadow behind his father. Not allowed to come forward. Not allowed to even do anything. The injustice of it burned, and soon he was starting to resent his father, frustrated and hating the way he was unable to perform barely the simplest spells. The feelings rose only too easily, encouraged by days on end of wanting to do something, anything, but being unable to.
He was being punished for his mistake. Punished in the worst way as his father seemed to have allowed the Prince to come here just to cruelly shove in his face the severity of his mistake. To show him just what he’d done, and making him unable to do anything but watch and swallow down the bitter realization that this was all his fault.
Yes, they were originally connected through his curse, he’d driven them together, but here before him now was something else. Something deeper. Something that tightened his throat with anxiety and panic, resonating in the way Changmin was looking at Prince Yoochun in a way he’d never seen before. Strong, but soft. Full of something soothing and warm, not the hot fire he’d always direct at Jaejoong, nor the absence of any emotion or heat he’d cast towards him recently. Empty and cold, as if hiding himself from Jaejoong, as if Jaejoong wasn’t even important enough for him to get worked up.
The difference was like a shock to his system. The expression almost unrecognizable on Changmin’s face, something he’d never even been able to imagine. And it made him even angrier.
He hadn’t realized, hadn’t let him self even consider, that the connection that formed between them actually went deeper than he could see. That single moment of carelessness on his part in which he didn’t ensure absolute isolation and perfection during the incantation, and he’d caused them to bind irretrievably.
Looking at them now, and he knew with a certainty that clenched his heart, that even though the curse had been removed, even after the bruises would fade, there was something he could never undo. Something linked the two of them in a way he couldn’t fully understand or ever properly fathom. Something he knew only too well at the same time. Attraction.
Seeing them before him now it was undeniable. It had started as a small annoying tickle at the back off his mind, something unpleasant that he’d been unable to brush away or shut up ever since the day he’d seen Prince Yoochun’s energy within Changmin. It had only grown stronger, more intense with each passing day, and he knew only too well what Changmin saw when he dreamed at night.
Night after night he’d spent hidden in the shadows of Changmin’s room. Refusing to let him out of his sight even with the curse removed and his body well on the way to recovery. But then Changmin had always started dreaming, something that changed the planes of his face, something that made him sigh in his sleep, the softest sweetest huff of air before his face relaxed into the faintest imitation of a smile.
And Jaejoong had nearly lost his breath, forgotten he wasn’t supposed to be there, forgotten he couldn’t use his powers, but just reacting and wanting in, wanting to know what caused such a beautiful expression. His energy had raged like a caged storm, but he was only able to barely brush Changmin’s consciousness with the faintest slip of a touch. It had been just enough for him to see exactly what Changmin hid behind closed eyes, and had been just enough for him to prick Changmin awake time and time again late into the darkest hours of the night.
Because the image that had flooded his mind like the imprint of a bright flash even after closing his eyes against the radiance, had been such a shock. Because a strange faint wash of feelings that weren’t his own had come with it. He’d tasted the afterimage of something so immensely beautiful and indescribable, and it wasn’t possible that it could be theirs. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, hadn’t wanted Changmin to have that for another single moment, even if that meant them both losing sleep for days on end.
Still, nothing could prevent him from entering Changmin’s room each night, and Changmin was never able to find him hidden like a wraith in the dark. Never able to escape his lingering gaze, the touch of eyes across pitch darkness. Never able to hide from him as he watched over him, even though he always seemed to try his best to attribute it to his imagination and ignore his presence.
But now, even after all those nights of watching him, even after hours enraptured merely with the intensely intimate caress of just eyes, hours of memorizing the sensual movements of Changmin’s body in sleep, the desire, the feeling of being so incredibly alive with pure feeling...all of those precious moments were shoved painfully in his face. As if they were petty, dirty even, nothing compared to what they had created so easily without him, nothing despite all his time spent focusing on Changmin alone.
Because he could feel it so powerfully now, so real and undeniable before him. The feel of their energies meeting, not clashing or fighting for superiority like most dominant royal bloods would, but mixing, melding together into a seamlessly woven single being. Something he couldn’t even feel properly it was so bright. The familiar enchanting gold of Changmin. The searing white of Prince Yoochun. And it scared him in the absolute force of its power. In its perfect union.
Something he couldn’t have. Something that defied all he’d ever known. Something that excluded him. Something that was taking Changmin away from him before his very eyes, slowly but surely day by day. And Changmin was growing brighter before him, more than he’d ever yet seen, but not because of him. Because of another person. Someone who complimented him rather than stealing away his power and beauty.
And it hurt to even think it and compare himself to it. That single fact alone was enough to boil his insides, uncontrollable anger so sweet and gratifying in its mindless fury, filling him with nothing but intention. To break and destroy and take. To force things back to how they should be. To make Changmin look at him alone, to make him have no other option than giving his light solely to Jaejoong.
He would take it from him forcefully if he had to, brutally, so completely until there was nothing of the Prince left and Changmin would be bound to him, would have no choice but to stay with him, depend on him. Until Changmin would finally be his entirely like he was supposed to be.
His father was taking his time to slowly stalk a circle around the two of them. Presence smothering and crushing everything around them. They were clutching pathetically to each other’s hands, two pairs of terrified eyes unable to flee before the power of his father. They made quite the pair, he thought spitefully, even as he was only able to watch from the side, increasingly upset, raw jealous anger choking him with the raging thundering of his heart in his ears. His body was overly hot and tense, aching with the intensity of too many things he just couldn’t control.
His father finally came to a stop, leaning in close to Yoochun and whispering into his ear. The Prince shuddered with the proximity, unable to even flinch away, face pale, and Jaejoong knew there was nothing but his father’s spell keeping him standing on his own two feet.
He didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for the moment his father finally leaned slowly back, giving him the smallest flicker of a glance as the command came at last. Much too late, but Jaejoong was moving before he’d even finished speaking.
“Take him away.”
He reached for Changmin’s arm instantly, fingers rough and nails cruelly digging into both of their hands as he forced their fingers apart one digit at a time. They slipped apart at last, and the pressure lifting from his chest merely relocated to a place just behind his eyes, blinding him and clouding everything into a single-minded need to claim what was his.
Without even thinking, he’d taken advantage of Prince Yoochun’s immobility to shove him fiercely in the chest just where he knew dark ugly bruises lay hidden. Shoved him hard, charged with the uncontrollable rush of childish possessiveness. The Prince fell helplessly to the ground, unable to so much as catch himself. Jaejoong couldn’t even take satisfaction in the grunt of surprised pain, nothing able to subdue the anger that rose in reaction to the look that now crossed Changmin’s face as he watched Yoochun fall.
Hot and flushed in a heartbeat, and he gripped Changmin painfully tight, promptly turning to drag him away. He couldn’t see anything but blinding fiery red hot nothing, it warped his vision and swelled dangerously in his chest.
Mine. MINE. How dare you look at him like that?
And he was powerless, useless, unable to act on all his instincts and make Changmin his right then and there. As weak and disgusting as any other human, and he raged against his constraints, never having hated them more. Never having hated his father so much, hating Prince Yoochun, hating Changmin even as he still just wanted him. So badly.
He refused to let him go now for anything. He would show him there was no other life but him. And he dragged Changmin stumbling into the house, mere seconds were enough for his anger to grow and billow, ready to ignite as soon as he got Changmin down the hallway into his room.
He slammed the door open so hard it crashed and ricocheted loudly off the wall. Even the noise was too weak and dead to satisfy or placate him. Even the sound of Changmin’s body crashing to the ground as he threw him forcefully to the floor wasn’t enough to break through the rage that had consumed him.
He was on top of him the next moment, the new-found power lent by pure unrestricted anger fueling him almost more than his own bound powers could ever do as he pinned him harshly to the ground.
His hands shook as they clenched about Changmin’s shoulders, seeing with a far off detached part of his mind the way his own hands seemed to be glowing hotly white, radiating heat that burned and seared Changmin’s skin instantly.
He couldn’t stop himself, was too far gone to even want to stop himself as Changmin bucked and thrashed under his hold, silently crying out as the smell of burnt skin filled his nose sickeningly. Not enough. Still not enough to satisfy him.
He shook Changmin roughly, leaning down over him, crowding into his space to yell directly into his face.
“How dare you! You know your place; you’re mine!” Changmin’s whole body struggled against him, face twisting in pain as his fingers dug more deeply into his shoulders. “Scream! Beg me to stop!”
He almost couldn’t register the fact that Changmin’s hands were clamped tightly on his arms, struggling to shove him off. He strengthened his grip, feeling skin give way beneath his hands, mind filled with nothing but the crazed need for Changmin to submit to him, wanting him to repent. To hurt.
Without thinking, his hands moved of their own accord to encircle Changmin’s throat instead, pressing, clenching, burning and suffocating him. Changmin’s hands scrabbled against his arms, chest, shoulders, tearing away his hood before his desperately searching fingers found his hair, sinking in and ripping at it violently. Jaejoong hissed in pain, unable to fight the strong tug that forced his head down, pulling him forward until suddenly they were face to face.
The world went still as their eyes met, mere centimeters away, and they both froze, bodies tensed and trembling with rage, adrenaline, fight.
Changmin’s eyes were burning, lit with a golden spark gleaming faintly within their depths, as if trying to force its way out. There was no fear there, just pure passionate anger, a will still much too strong to be broken, glaring at him with so much hate and life.
And Changmin’s hands then tightened, ripping out hair as he tried to roll them over, nearly dislodging Jaejoong’s hands from his throat with the sudden movement. But in that single moment lost in Changmin’s eyes, and Jaejoong had lost his hold on reality.
Because Changmin’s energy had broken free like never before, glowing within his eyes, reaching out to envelope him whole, warm, intensely warm, and so deliriously sweet. His whole body seized up at the contact, back arching with pleasure as it wrapped around him, intimate fire caressing every inch of his skin.
And his brain simply turned off, just feeling, just reacting and obeying instinct. His hands squeezed Changmin’s neck tightly until he gasped out the last of his air, hands slipping from Jaejoong’s hair to fall limply to the floor as his eyes began to roll back into his head. Then Jaejoong’s hands moved to fist Changmin’s long hair, tugging his face closer to look down into his eyes. They were opened wide, now gone dark and dilated, lips parted invitingly as he gasped for air, cheeks flushed beautifully, and before he even knew what he was doing, Jaejoong leaned down.
A single tug in his hair to tilt his face up, and he was crushing his lips in a bruising kiss. Hot and sloppy, devouring what was helplessly and freely opened for him. Changmin was momentarily stunned and unable to resist as he kissed him hard, heart pounding against his ribs as heat exploded around them.
The intense anger all instantly melted into mind blowing pleasure as he drowned in the fireworks bursting behind his eyes and in his stomach. Just a few minutes of pure bliss, unbelievable pleasure, and then something sharp and painful cut into his tongue.
He drew back in surprise with hot tangy blood filling his mouth, looking down to see it smeared beautifully across Changmin’s lips. His shock lasted just long enough for Changmin to gain the upper hand as with a violent twist of his body and rough hands shoving against him, he sent Jaejoong sprawling on the hard dirty floor.
His breath was knocked clean from his body and he gasped painfully as Changmin was suddenly on top of him, straddling his hips, fist raising in slow motion before falling too fast for his dazed brain to follow.
The blow fell powerfully against his jaw, knocking his head sharply against the ground as an odd ringing filled his ears. He blinked the stars out of his eyes, turning back in time to see Changmin so strong, hot and alive and dangerous above him. His arm was already lifting to deliver the next blow and before Jaejoong could even realize the flicker of something sticking in his chest could possibly be fear, something white blanked out his whole vision.
The next moment it burst from his mouth in a rush of cold syllables that nearly froze his throat on the way out. It struck Changmin straight in the chest, knocking him forcefully backwards. He flew a good few feet into the air before landing in a sickening heap on the ground. He was deathly still. The room fell silent.
Only Jaejoong’s own breathy gasps filled the hot stuffy air, as he struggled to breathe around the ice that seemed to coat the inside of his chest. He shivered uncontrollably, knowing nothing but cold for the next few excruciating minutes.
He lay stunned as feeling ever so slowly crept back into him. Long painful minutes in which he slowly became aware of himself, of the state of his body. He ached everywhere, down to his very core that still seemed too cold and infinitely gaping open. Like something had been torn from his very center.
He hadn’t done it on purpose. It was nothing he’d ever heard before, nothing his father had ever done, a language he didn’t know nor could ever remember learning, and he hadn’t the slightest idea where it came from. All he knew was that it hurt horribly. Contrary to the ice clutching his throat, fresh blood pooled hotly in his mouth and he nearly choked on it, turning his head weakly to spit it out.
When he’d finally regained his breath and a semblance of warmth began to return to his bone chilled limbs, he slowly, painfully pushed himself up into a sitting position. Then his eyes fell upon Changmin and he forgot how to breathe.
He lay as if dead. His shirt was torn open, revealing a brutal looking gash across skin that was so pale and drained of all color until it was almost a sickeningly blue. There was no blood that he could see, and as he scrambled to his knees, crawling over to him, he saw that it looked as if he’d cut him with something so cold it had burned him open. It stood out in stark contrast to the angry looking burn marks marring the skin of his neck and the red blistering welts opened on his shoulders.
Jaejoong felt sick, light headed and weak. He swayed dangerously, hands falling to the ground to support himself as he gasped for air that was suddenly hard to come by. What had he done? He clenched his eyes tightly closed, as if blocking out the sight would make it untrue, would undo it all.
He felt threatened, as if something had been forced from him without his consent, something breaking free on its own power to strike Changmin down cruelly. And he didn’t know what it was, didn’t know what it had done. And he was all too rudely cast back to the small terrified child that had first attempted to cast a curse, something that had gone wrong and decapitated the man only halfway, body ruptured open and gushing red everywhere as screams tore at his ears, filled his very soul. Something he didn’t mean to do. Something he couldn’t control. And he was so scared.
With a pathetic moan, Jaejoong curled into himself, swallowing around the bile rising in his throat, swallowing down the intense feeling of a fear he couldn’t put a name to, couldn’t recognize or even remember where it came from. Something that made him want to cling onto anything that could hold him back and prevent him from being lost in the vastness, the unknown, and then the mind numbing fear of that something that bound him body and soul and crushed him into a confining prison he couldn’t break out of.
He didn’t even know if it was his own memory or something resurfacing from a nightmare he couldn’t even recall, but it seemed so much bigger than life, so infinitely powerful, and he didn’t even want to know.
Snapping his eyes open, he forced the images away. Closing his mind, he almost frantically searched for the warm familiarity of his own powers bound tight and safe deep within him. They reached for him in turn, comforting and real, and he let out a ragged sigh. He needed them back. He couldn’t fight that unknown coldness. He needed to blot it out and force it away, needed his own powers to protect and strengthen himself.
His eyes came back to rest on Changmin. He avoided looking at the mysterious wound, unable to bear the thought that it was real, that he’d made it...or rather the foreign coldness had made it through him. And he reached out with trembling hands to feel for Changmin’s pulse.
His skin was rather cool to the touch, even as the blood pumped slowly through the vein of his neck. Irregular but present, and as soon as he felt it he snatched his hand back as if touching him too long would cause the nameless power hiding dormant within him to rear itself once again and attack.
Because Changmin was shrouded with an ugly grey dullness. Stripped of all his light and warmth, so small and broken and lifeless. He stared at Changmin’s face almost with unseeing eyes. Why...how had this happened? What had he done to him? No...what had that cold monster hidden within him done?
He couldn’t bear to look at him. He couldn’t bear to see yet again something that had gone wrong, a horrible mistake that he couldn’t undo. And he was too freaked out, too close to sinking back into the fear he remembered through odd fleeting glimmers of a long ago youth, some person that wasn’t him any longer, something he wouldn’t let himself remember or return to, and he scrambled back away from Changmin’s still body.
He was alive, and for now that’s all he cared to know. He couldn’t even think about trying to fix it, to try and heal the gaping wound that stared back at him like an accusation. And he’d nearly forgotten all about the other marks, mere flesh wounds compared to the perverse laceration that cut through the center of Changmin’s chest.
But he couldn’t stay near him for fear that unknown coldness would seize him again, for all he knew was that it had been brought to life by Changmin, spurred by the fire that had exploded within him as he took everything so completely away from Changmin.
Maybe it had been him who had drained him so horribly...maybe it had really been him who attacked him, and he’d been too blinded to realize. Led blindly by pure anger, passion, lust...things he couldn’t remember how they felt anymore now that they’d left him.
He was too thoroughly shaken. He just didn’t know anything anymore. His whole world had been turned upside down in just a few short minutes, he’d felt too many things he couldn’t control, lost himself to new emotions and things latent within his own body, and he was already turning his back on the body still laying cold and lonely on the floor.
He staggered to the door, hands shaking violently as he fumbled with it, struggling to find enough strength to drag it closed. To hide his mistake behind it. To lock it out of sight. The world tilted dangerously, and his breath caught in his chest. He sagged against the wood as it finally clicked shut, much too quiet of a sound against the crowd of shrill noises filling his mind.
His fingers were already moving to turn the lock. Rusty and bent, long out of use, but still sliding into place with the same finality as always.
Leaving the locked door behind him, the shuffled down the dark hall. Each step and breathing became a little easier, strength returned to his legs, and the numbing white noise in his head faded. Each step and he was forcing himself to believe he wasn’t hiding or locking an ugly secret away, but merely returning Changmin to his room, locking him there to simply keep him inside this time.
But the chill still lingered deep within him, festering, lurking, waiting, even as he stepped out to a once again blindingly sunny day. No hot emotions sparked or flared to life even as he turned his gaze to where his father now had Prince Yoochun kneeling on the ground before him.
Something that would have brought him selfish satisfaction if time reversed only so far as just before him entering the house with Changmin. But now he felt nothing. He had managed to suppress it all during that infinitely long journey down the hallway, had struggled and succeeded in recapturing the emptiness that used to be his everything.
But still the tiny prick of coldness wouldn’t leave him, and his eyes locked on the sharp lines of his father’s shoulders from the back. Yes...he wasn’t alone...his father would know, he knew everything. He was the only one who could make it alright again, and he clung to the sudden found security from a person he’d never once reached for in his life. He took a deep breath before lifting his foot and taking the smallest of steps forward.
The Sorcerer instantly turned to face him with his usual easy slow grace, turned with his back as straight and tall as always, turned as if he’d already been waiting for him. But for the first time in years, their eyes met.
******
next chapter~
((A/N: omggg i suddenly don't know where this chapter is going! o_o that wasn't really supposed to happen XDD~~))