Round 5: Eclipse (for the_resolver)
Fic Title: Eclipse
Written For: the_resolver
Main Character: Junho - Minjun
Pairing: Minjun-Junho
Warnings: angsty
Word count: 1773
Prompt used: Your eyes were a different color when we awoke. I knew you’d been replaced. Considered my options and played along. New you was good in bed.
Summary: Minjun didn’t believe in magic, still doesn’t. He now believes in destiny.
Minjun is proud of his job, of what he’s achieved at such a young age, but what he likes to brag about the most, is singing at the top of his lungs in the middle of a library. His family owned the library for centuries, but none of them lived in it, they all went home at the end of the day, till Minjun that is. His father appreciated his passion for books; his mother feared for his love life. “Where are you going to meet a good wife if you never go out?”
There he was; putting books back on shelves, blasting Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean and dancing between the isles, moon-walking his way around, hips low and voice rough. He slides to the center of the hall to perform his last dance move when clapping cuts him short and makes him trip over his own feet.
“With those dance moves you would knock a girl up,” came a voice from the door. A man covered from head to toe in black; leather pants molding to his thighs, skull shirt ripped in places and showing tanned skin underneath, hood of his long jacket over his head.
Minjun had to blink a few times, because The Emperor, the rock star, was standing in front of him, still clapping and probably laughing at him.
“I would have to get near a girl first.” Minjun blurted out.
“You’re handsome; I thought you would be the kind to get laid a lot.”
Minjun didn’t even notice how easy the conversation went, a familiarity in the way Emperor looked at him with slanted eyes and a Cheshire smile that resembled that of the cat that wanders into his library sometimes.
Minjun shrugged, “I do get laid, just not with women.”
The Emperor raises an eyebrow and then laughs, covering his mouth with a fist.
“Don’t do that!”
“What?” the Emperor blinks his eyes and tilts his head like a confused cat.
“Don’t cover your smile, it’s pretty.” Minjun’s filters are nowhere to be found.
Emperor is stepping towards him. “Are you flirting with me?”
Minjun shrugs. “Maybe.”
Minjun is not sure what’s happening, every fiber in him wants to connect with Emperor, wants to hold and own the other, but it doesn’t make sense, they’ve never met before, Minjun barely knows a few songs of his.
“Lee Junho.” He introduces, raising a well manicured hand, black nail polish on sharp fingernails.
Minjun repeats the name, shaking Lee Junho’s hand; it’s warm and firm. He doesn’t let go.
“Kim Minjun.” Junho squeezes his hand. “Why am I attracted to you?” Junho looks offended and lets go of Minjun’s hand to gesture at his body, “rock star and all.”
Minjun licks his lips as he stares at the well built body in front of him. He’s overwhelmed, overtaken and charmed to say the least, but then Junho’s smirk crumbles and his façade is crushed.
He’s nervous all of a sudden, it makes Minjun want to hold him close.
“Umm, I didn’t think you would be able to feel it,” Junho’s voice is quiet, the other has to strain to hear him, “b-but I … Look, try to believe me okay...”
“You’re my Master.” Junho blurts, stepping forward, cautious.
Minjun’s brain tells him to run, but his heart nails his feet to the ground.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Junho’s eyes are hopeful, desperate.
Minjun blinks, he’s being pranked, Wooyoung must be hiding somewhere with cameras. He blinks twice and Junho is no longer in his vision, he’s kneeling at his feet.
“Please.” Junho whimpers, pained.
It’s like a dagger twisted in Minjun’s heart, which makes him kneel right down in front of Junho and lift his head up.Honey golden eyes look back at him and Minjun can feel the other shaking under his touch.
“What’s happening?” He asks softly. “Who are you? Are you okay?”
Junho forces air into his lungs and breathes out, “I’m sorry, it’s just been so long since it’s been satisfied.” His voice is that of a man after orgasm and it confuses Minjun even more, because he’s not scared anymore, but intrigued and interested.
“C’mon, up you go,” Minjun pulls Junho easily to his feet ,“Sit and tell me what’s happening.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a command, but Junho complies with a shiver, heading to a small two-seater sofa placed at the front desk.
“We… You and I, we’re lovers,” his voice trembles and he glances up at Minjun, who nods at him. “Six hundred years ago, a woman cursed us both. You’re reincarnated through the decades and I’ve been alive since.”
“Cursed? Why? How old are you?” Minjun has so many more questions to ask, but Junho continues and he waits, ever so patient.
“She was assigned as my wife, I was in love with you, so she made sure I was bound to you forever, made sure I would live forever while you died over and over again,” his voice is rough, like he’s swallowing tears and years of pain and desperation, “made sure that I hurt every time I’m not with you, while you keep on forgetting me,” he trembles and hiccups, fighting for a breath. “The only way for the curse to break, is that I marry someone else. Then I’ll start to age and you will not be reincarnated.”
Minjun doesn’t believe in magic, doesn’t believe in immortality and certainly doesn’t believe in star crossed lovers, but his heart longs for Junho, his fingertips twitch to touch him to believe he’s real, so he does; he walks the three steps between them and touches Junho’s shoulder. “I don’t know about that, but I’m here.”
Junho’s body tenses and then relaxes. “This is us; I’m rage and emotion; the sun, while you’re serenity and passion; the moon”
Minjun thinks he hears a slight chuckle and he frowns because Junho is crying and laughing at the same time. “What’s wrong? What hurts?”
Junho shakes his head. “Nothing hurts, the opposite, when you’re gone, I …” He pulls down the hood of his jacket, pulling at the neck of his shirt to reveal a tattoo of the sun and moon kissing on his chest, right over his heart. “This appeared after the curse, it physically hurts when we’re not together and when we’re together, it makes me so happy, satisfied, makes me want to live at the sole of your feet. I’ve been calmer before, more rational when I told you about us, but I couldn’t help myself this time,” he leans towards Minjun, his head almost resting on Minjun’s abdomen, “it’s just been … so long this time.”
Minjun sits next to him, trying to take it all in, even though it seems like he has heard it all before. He wants to ask how many times he’s been reincarnated, if Junho always managed to find him, if they’ve been lovers every time. “It stops hurting when I’m touching you?” he asks instead, placing a hand over Junho’s heart and over the tattoo.
Junho’s whimper is that of relief and pleasure. “Y-yes,” It’s shaky. “I usually find you within 20 years; it’s been almost 45 since I last saw you.” He’s unconsciously leaning into Minjun’s touch, wanting more warmth.
“Okay,” Minjun whispers and smiles, inching forward and pressing his lips to Junho’s own, softly kissing him, not taking his hand off of the tattoo which seems to get hotter under his touch, or it may be just Junho’s skin.
He truly doesn’t understand, but it all feels familiar, Junho’s eyes, and his voice, the twitch of his muscles under Minjun’s fingertips and the taste of his lips, the way he twists his neck and whimpers against Minjun’s mouth, gripping his biceps with shaky fingers. Minjun wonders if this is what people who suffer from short term memory loss go through when they’re retold who they are everyday.
Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to push Junho back and kiss him senseless, to grind down against him when he arches up and to peel his clothes off when he needs more skin to kiss. So familiar when Junho’s legs wrap around him, and his fingernails dig into his back as he pushes into Junho’s tightness. He seems to remember that Junho likes having his hair pulled, likes it when Minjun tells him how good he is and bites his earlobe, seems to remember the right angle to please him well.
Maybe that’s why when they’re lying down on Minjun’s bed,covered in cooling sweat and cum, Junho fits so well against his side, their hearts beat in sync. Minjun traces his fingers over the sun and moon tattoo, and he understands how little time they have together before the stars are not aligned in their favor anymore and the eclipse tears them apart.
“Tell me about us,” Minjun says.
“You always ask that,” Junho smiles against his side, “so predictable.” He teases.
Minjun tugs at his hair warningly, “it’s not my fault you remember and I don’t.”
“The first time, you were King Sejeong’s advisor, I was a poet.” He starts, “The second time you were a painter and I was one of your French girls, the third time you were a minister, I was a courtesan, the fourth-”
“Wait,” Minjun furrows his brows, “is that a pattern? Did you never have a real job?”
He gets a twist to his nipples for that.
“I’m a rock star, thank you very much,” he sasses.
Minjun snorts. “Continue. What happened the fourth time?”
Junho settles back in his favorite spot against Minjun’s chest, “you were an author, I was your muse.” Junho closes his eyes and smiles, like the memory is replaying in front of him. “I told you once that your eyes were a different color when we awoke. I knew you’d been replaced. Considered my options and played along.” He opens his eyes to stare at the warm brown eyes staring back into his, “but truth is I always see myself in them, they’re my home.”
“Is it worth looking and waiting for me for so long? Why don’t you get married?” Minjun’s question hurts him as much as it hurts Junho, because Junho lets him feel his soul, shares glimpses of decades of joy and pleasure, love and pain. Minjun still doesn’t understand magic, but he believes in destiny now.
Junho controls his face and shrugs, “New you was good in bed, so I kept coming for more.”
Minjun shushes him with a kiss and Junho smiles. Unlike the world, his eclipse is shining bright.
Written For: the_resolver
Main Character: Junho - Minjun
Pairing: Minjun-Junho
Warnings: angsty
Word count: 1773
Prompt used: Your eyes were a different color when we awoke. I knew you’d been replaced. Considered my options and played along. New you was good in bed.
Summary: Minjun didn’t believe in magic, still doesn’t. He now believes in destiny.
Minjun is proud of his job, of what he’s achieved at such a young age, but what he likes to brag about the most, is singing at the top of his lungs in the middle of a library. His family owned the library for centuries, but none of them lived in it, they all went home at the end of the day, till Minjun that is. His father appreciated his passion for books; his mother feared for his love life. “Where are you going to meet a good wife if you never go out?”
There he was; putting books back on shelves, blasting Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean and dancing between the isles, moon-walking his way around, hips low and voice rough. He slides to the center of the hall to perform his last dance move when clapping cuts him short and makes him trip over his own feet.
“With those dance moves you would knock a girl up,” came a voice from the door. A man covered from head to toe in black; leather pants molding to his thighs, skull shirt ripped in places and showing tanned skin underneath, hood of his long jacket over his head.
Minjun had to blink a few times, because The Emperor, the rock star, was standing in front of him, still clapping and probably laughing at him.
“I would have to get near a girl first.” Minjun blurted out.
“You’re handsome; I thought you would be the kind to get laid a lot.”
Minjun didn’t even notice how easy the conversation went, a familiarity in the way Emperor looked at him with slanted eyes and a Cheshire smile that resembled that of the cat that wanders into his library sometimes.
Minjun shrugged, “I do get laid, just not with women.”
The Emperor raises an eyebrow and then laughs, covering his mouth with a fist.
“Don’t do that!”
“What?” the Emperor blinks his eyes and tilts his head like a confused cat.
“Don’t cover your smile, it’s pretty.” Minjun’s filters are nowhere to be found.
Emperor is stepping towards him. “Are you flirting with me?”
Minjun shrugs. “Maybe.”
Minjun is not sure what’s happening, every fiber in him wants to connect with Emperor, wants to hold and own the other, but it doesn’t make sense, they’ve never met before, Minjun barely knows a few songs of his.
“Lee Junho.” He introduces, raising a well manicured hand, black nail polish on sharp fingernails.
Minjun repeats the name, shaking Lee Junho’s hand; it’s warm and firm. He doesn’t let go.
“Kim Minjun.” Junho squeezes his hand. “Why am I attracted to you?” Junho looks offended and lets go of Minjun’s hand to gesture at his body, “rock star and all.”
Minjun licks his lips as he stares at the well built body in front of him. He’s overwhelmed, overtaken and charmed to say the least, but then Junho’s smirk crumbles and his façade is crushed.
He’s nervous all of a sudden, it makes Minjun want to hold him close.
“Umm, I didn’t think you would be able to feel it,” Junho’s voice is quiet, the other has to strain to hear him, “b-but I … Look, try to believe me okay...”
“You’re my Master.” Junho blurts, stepping forward, cautious.
Minjun’s brain tells him to run, but his heart nails his feet to the ground.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Junho’s eyes are hopeful, desperate.
Minjun blinks, he’s being pranked, Wooyoung must be hiding somewhere with cameras. He blinks twice and Junho is no longer in his vision, he’s kneeling at his feet.
“Please.” Junho whimpers, pained.
It’s like a dagger twisted in Minjun’s heart, which makes him kneel right down in front of Junho and lift his head up.Honey golden eyes look back at him and Minjun can feel the other shaking under his touch.
“What’s happening?” He asks softly. “Who are you? Are you okay?”
Junho forces air into his lungs and breathes out, “I’m sorry, it’s just been so long since it’s been satisfied.” His voice is that of a man after orgasm and it confuses Minjun even more, because he’s not scared anymore, but intrigued and interested.
“C’mon, up you go,” Minjun pulls Junho easily to his feet ,“Sit and tell me what’s happening.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a command, but Junho complies with a shiver, heading to a small two-seater sofa placed at the front desk.
“We… You and I, we’re lovers,” his voice trembles and he glances up at Minjun, who nods at him. “Six hundred years ago, a woman cursed us both. You’re reincarnated through the decades and I’ve been alive since.”
“Cursed? Why? How old are you?” Minjun has so many more questions to ask, but Junho continues and he waits, ever so patient.
“She was assigned as my wife, I was in love with you, so she made sure I was bound to you forever, made sure I would live forever while you died over and over again,” his voice is rough, like he’s swallowing tears and years of pain and desperation, “made sure that I hurt every time I’m not with you, while you keep on forgetting me,” he trembles and hiccups, fighting for a breath. “The only way for the curse to break, is that I marry someone else. Then I’ll start to age and you will not be reincarnated.”
Minjun doesn’t believe in magic, doesn’t believe in immortality and certainly doesn’t believe in star crossed lovers, but his heart longs for Junho, his fingertips twitch to touch him to believe he’s real, so he does; he walks the three steps between them and touches Junho’s shoulder. “I don’t know about that, but I’m here.”
Junho’s body tenses and then relaxes. “This is us; I’m rage and emotion; the sun, while you’re serenity and passion; the moon”
Minjun thinks he hears a slight chuckle and he frowns because Junho is crying and laughing at the same time. “What’s wrong? What hurts?”
Junho shakes his head. “Nothing hurts, the opposite, when you’re gone, I …” He pulls down the hood of his jacket, pulling at the neck of his shirt to reveal a tattoo of the sun and moon kissing on his chest, right over his heart. “This appeared after the curse, it physically hurts when we’re not together and when we’re together, it makes me so happy, satisfied, makes me want to live at the sole of your feet. I’ve been calmer before, more rational when I told you about us, but I couldn’t help myself this time,” he leans towards Minjun, his head almost resting on Minjun’s abdomen, “it’s just been … so long this time.”
Minjun sits next to him, trying to take it all in, even though it seems like he has heard it all before. He wants to ask how many times he’s been reincarnated, if Junho always managed to find him, if they’ve been lovers every time. “It stops hurting when I’m touching you?” he asks instead, placing a hand over Junho’s heart and over the tattoo.
Junho’s whimper is that of relief and pleasure. “Y-yes,” It’s shaky. “I usually find you within 20 years; it’s been almost 45 since I last saw you.” He’s unconsciously leaning into Minjun’s touch, wanting more warmth.
“Okay,” Minjun whispers and smiles, inching forward and pressing his lips to Junho’s own, softly kissing him, not taking his hand off of the tattoo which seems to get hotter under his touch, or it may be just Junho’s skin.
He truly doesn’t understand, but it all feels familiar, Junho’s eyes, and his voice, the twitch of his muscles under Minjun’s fingertips and the taste of his lips, the way he twists his neck and whimpers against Minjun’s mouth, gripping his biceps with shaky fingers. Minjun wonders if this is what people who suffer from short term memory loss go through when they’re retold who they are everyday.
Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to push Junho back and kiss him senseless, to grind down against him when he arches up and to peel his clothes off when he needs more skin to kiss. So familiar when Junho’s legs wrap around him, and his fingernails dig into his back as he pushes into Junho’s tightness. He seems to remember that Junho likes having his hair pulled, likes it when Minjun tells him how good he is and bites his earlobe, seems to remember the right angle to please him well.
Maybe that’s why when they’re lying down on Minjun’s bed,covered in cooling sweat and cum, Junho fits so well against his side, their hearts beat in sync. Minjun traces his fingers over the sun and moon tattoo, and he understands how little time they have together before the stars are not aligned in their favor anymore and the eclipse tears them apart.
“Tell me about us,” Minjun says.
“You always ask that,” Junho smiles against his side, “so predictable.” He teases.
Minjun tugs at his hair warningly, “it’s not my fault you remember and I don’t.”
“The first time, you were King Sejeong’s advisor, I was a poet.” He starts, “The second time you were a painter and I was one of your French girls, the third time you were a minister, I was a courtesan, the fourth-”
“Wait,” Minjun furrows his brows, “is that a pattern? Did you never have a real job?”
He gets a twist to his nipples for that.
“I’m a rock star, thank you very much,” he sasses.
Minjun snorts. “Continue. What happened the fourth time?”
Junho settles back in his favorite spot against Minjun’s chest, “you were an author, I was your muse.” Junho closes his eyes and smiles, like the memory is replaying in front of him. “I told you once that your eyes were a different color when we awoke. I knew you’d been replaced. Considered my options and played along.” He opens his eyes to stare at the warm brown eyes staring back into his, “but truth is I always see myself in them, they’re my home.”
“Is it worth looking and waiting for me for so long? Why don’t you get married?” Minjun’s question hurts him as much as it hurts Junho, because Junho lets him feel his soul, shares glimpses of decades of joy and pleasure, love and pain. Minjun still doesn’t understand magic, but he believes in destiny now.
Junho controls his face and shrugs, “New you was good in bed, so I kept coming for more.”
Minjun shushes him with a kiss and Junho smiles. Unlike the world, his eclipse is shining bright.