To Paint the World With Words...

Through Their Eyes

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 05:24:20 GMT

Title: Through Their Eyes [Waiting]
Pairing: Yoosu
Chapter: 3/?
Genre: Angst
Rating: R
Warning/s: Violence, Swearing
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: But imagine yourself... living in a place...

[Note: I apologize for the slow start, and I realize this chapter drags on a little, but things will pick up in chapter 4 I promise. Also, if 5 or fewer people comment, I will cease to post updates on this fic, as I judge the number of comments as a good indicator of how much interest there is.]

Isn’t liberty great?

…But imagine… living…

I will never…

“For the time being your home will be put under surveillance. You are not to leave Seoul-“

“What?! You can’t… Why are we being treated like criminals? Why is no one out looking for my son?”

“Until we can be sure that your son did not go voluntarily we need to make sure that he did not have any connections to the North from here. Now Mrs. Kim-“

“My son has been kidnapped! My son is suffering somewhere up there and you dare to suggest that he went on purpose?! You cannot ask me to sit here and do nothing! You cannot ask me to abandon my son! He is my son! My SON!” The woman burst into tears, her body shaking, her heart clenching painfully in her chest. “Why… why…”

“Mrs. Kim I’m sorry but until we can confirm the circumstances you are to remain here. Neither you, nor any other member of your family is to leave Seoul without government permission.”

“I need to save my son! Bring back my son!”

“Mrs. Kim-“

“Stop it! STOP IT! My son-”

“Mrs. Kim do not force me to take stronger action here. The government is handling the situation. For the moment you must do your part and cooperate.” The officer slammed his hands down on the table and stood up as he spoke, voice firm, and the woman just stared up at him in shock. “Also, you are not to discuss the circumstances of your son’s disappearance with anyone. And by that I mean anyone. Not your friends, not the rest of your family. This is for your own protection. Understood?” He turned away, then paused. “A call came in yesterday. The boat has been recovered, and your brother’s body was among those found on it. I am sorry for your loss.” He did not wait for a response, leaving the woman alone with her tears.

Hopeless.

Helpless.

Ignored.

Never forget…

The next night Junsu found himself restless, unable to sleep. He couldn’t help but wonder… would they talk again? He hadn’t realized how much he missed being able to just have a simple conversation with someone. He leaned against the wall, close to the bars, staring beyond them into the darkness. He listened to the snores, straining to see if he could catch any sounds of slumber drifting from the next cell over. He was just wondering whether or not the young man was one to snore or sleep silently when a soft voice reached his ears.

“You awake over there?” For a second he almost smiled. The thought was so stunning it caught him off guard and he didn’t reply right away. “Hello?” Just a whisper.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Where else would you be?” The reply was slightly sarcastic. Idiot.

“I’m awake.” Junsu confirmed again. It seemed neither knew what to say then, so both fell silent. Junsu imagined he could hear the other breathing now, and he tried to single the sound out.

“Tell me something.”

“Hmm, what?” Junsu had almost fallen asleep by the time the other finally spoke again.

“Tell me something.”

“Oh… like what?”

“Something about you. Anything.”

“About me?”

“Why not?” Junsu paused, thinking.

“I’m a twin.” He stated randomly.

“Really?” He could hear shuffling sounds from beyond the wall and imagined the other shifting around to get more comfortable.

“Yeah. We don’t look it though. I mean we look related, sure, but we’re fraternal. My brother looks like he could be a year older instead of just a few minutes. He’s taller too.”

“Hmmm… You know… it’s interesting.”

“What?”

“Here… well in the big cities at least. If a woman has twins or triplets, the government takes them and puts them in an orphanage.” Junsu’s eyes widened.

“Really? But they already have parents, so why…?”

“Well the government has decided that there is no way someone could have enough money to take care of twins, and even if they did definitely not for triplets. So they take them and then the government raises them. The children are well cared for, given lots of toys and things. They’re shown off to foreigners like little North Korean jewels. If the family is poor enough even just a normal single child might be taken.”

“That’s ridiculous. The government can’t just decide-“

“Remember where you are? The government can decide whatever it wants here.” Junsu fell silent at that. How could he have forgotten. It was impossible to forget being in a place like this. But then, he’d never seen anything of life here. He had no idea what it was like. Clearly the soldiers at least enjoyed some amount of wealth, even if they could apparently lose it…

“Tell me more about… Pyongyang.”

“Well to be honest, Pyongyang is an amazing city. And I’m not just saying that. We have huge performances and presentations. Lots of parks and things. Good schools. I’m not lying, though you may not believe me from what you’ve seen.” Junsu tried to picture a grand North Korean city. It was a difficult image to piece together. “I guess… the main problem is that while Pyongyang is great… it is full of dark secrets. The people can’t know what really goes on here. So the government lies. Everything is lies. They had to smuggle you in here through the back, away from curious eyes. Out there soldiers are looked up to. More than half the kids living here will tell you they want to grow up to be soldiers, even the girls. It is only down here, in places like this, that the cruel truth comes out. And that’s just Pyongyang. Outside the city gates everything changes.” Junsu frowned thoughtfully.

“…why did they bring us here? What good does it do them, locking us up like this? Does it get them merits? What use could we possibly be to them, I just don’t understand.”

“That’s simple. They want you to train spies.”

“Spies?” Junsu gazed through the bars of his cell in the other’s direction.

“Think about it. We may look similar enough, but for a spy to blend in they have to know South Korean customs. The government wants you to serve as teachers of South Korean culture of sorts. Actually, in the best scenario, they would just brainwash you into becoming the spy yourself.” Junsu glanced back at the others asleep in the cell with him. So they wanted them to train spies. To become spies.

“I see. So that’s why they want us.” He paused. “And if we won’t spy on our own country for them? If we refuse? I suppose they just kill us then and kidnap others. What a perfect system.”

“They might kill you, but there are fates worse than that here you know. We have a population shortage, not surprisingly. Plenty of the people they steal end up being worthless, deemed ideologically impure, but I imagine they kill only a few. The rest are turned into forced laborers. Those they try to brainwash are subjected to harsh tests of endurance. Plenty of them end up to be too damaged to be useful as well. We’re talking hundreds of people. That is the real genius of the system.” Junsu thought about this, his own future being spelled out for him. How many spies would they make him train? Would he just give up eventually and become one? Or would he let himself be forced to work eternally for the country that had stolen him and killed his uncle? All of a sudden he felt sick to his stomach.

“I don’t… want to talk anymore.” His neighbor made no response, and Junsu curled up on his side, crying himself to sleep.

But imagine…

You are ruled. You are watched. Isolated.

…living in a place…

When Junsu was roused by the click-clacking of shiny black shoes he felt he’d barely been asleep. It must have been very early morning, though down in the cells time of day was told by shifts in the guards, not sunup and sundown. There was no sunlight to be found here, night or day.

Junsu blinked and pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes. Shifting in the cell next door told him his neighbor was also awake, but the attention of the officer was focused on neither of them. Junsu watched as the officer surveyed the men in the cell directly across from his, looking them over with a displeased expression on his face. Finally he crossed his arms and spoke, his tone demanding but with a certain resistance to it. Obviously he did not like whatever duty he’d been given.

“Alright, are any of you bastards Japs?” Junsu’s eyes widened slightly at the question. Japs? As in Japanese? He had assumed all the captives were merely from the South. “Come on now. I’m only going to ask this once more. Are any of you Japs?” Finally a hesitant hand was raised, pointing in the direction of one of the men near the back. The others turned to look back just as the soldier’s gaze shifted as well. The man who’d been singled out was horrified, suddenly shaking his head and waving his hands feebly.

“He’s Japanese?” Several of the men nodded, but the soldier’s eyes narrowed unconvinced. Just as he seemed about to reject the idea one of the men pushed the protesting captive forward, producing a string of words completely foreign to Junsu’s ears. The soldier sighed.

“Yeah, you’re Japanese alright.” He murmured, sounding disgusted. He uncrossed his arms and lifted one hand, motioning the terror-struck man forward. It took the efforts of several of the other captives in or to finally get him to door of the cell, all of them struggling and the man himself resisting verbally and loudly in Japanese. All the while the soldier watched, his mood seeming to grow darker as the moments passed. Finally he seemed to have had enough. He threw open the cell door with one quick, smooth motion, pulling out his gun and aiming it right between the foreigner’s eyes with his other hand. Everyone froze.

“I’m tired of this bullshit. Get your lousy Jap ass out here, now.” Trembling so much he could hardly walk straight the man complied, not understanding at all what was going on. The cell door was bolted shut once more, the rest of its inhabitants gathering near the bars to watch their former cellmate march away at gunpoint. As the soldier walked past Junsu, he heard the officer mumbling under his breath.

“Your fucking country wants you back and here you won’t even identify yourself. Fucking Japs.” When he reached the steps leading back out of the prison he paused, turning back to deliver a message that chilled the rest of the men to the bone. “We’re moving you all out tomorrow by the way. So be ready and look sharp. I don’t want none of this fuss, you hear? They want this one alive for God knows what reason, but I will gladly dispense of anyone who gives me shit tomorrow.” He waved his gun menacingly, driving his point home, before shoving the Jap to get him moving again.

Junsu watched with the rest, his fellow fishermen having lined up to watch as well, as the soldier and captive disappeared. The current guard on duty seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood, perhaps because his superior had been given an unpleasant duty.

“Alright freaks, enough staring. Get away from there.” He shouted at them. The men backed up and Junsu leaned back from the bars. He stared at the one way out, suddenly a path he dreaded walking. He remembered his neighbor’s explanation of a future that was arriving much too quickly. Yet it was inescapable. What could he do? What could anyone do?

As he stared after the long gone soldier, tomorrow looming like a dark cloud, he felt more hopeless than ever before.

Now you have no options.

Through Their Eyes

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 05:26:50 GMT

Title: Through Their Eyes [Smuggled]
Pairing: Yoosu
Chapter: 2/?
Genre: Angst
Rating: R
Warning/s: Violence, Swearing
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: But imagine yourself... living in a place...

[Note: I stick to my previous warning, no promises. But I am going to roll with my sudden wave of inspiration while it lasts. So here is chapter 2. Comments welcomed.]

Isn’t liberty great?

You can… do what you want. Say what you want. Think what you want. Go where you want.

You have options.

But… imagine yourself…

Two police officers searched through the house as their supervisor watched, looking for anything that might indicate a fate different from the one they suspected for the missing fisherman and his comrades. Similar searches were being conducted at the homes of all those who had been reported missing, but the answer was already there, an enormous pink elephant in the room. As hard as they tried to ignore it, there was no doubt that the fishermen had been taken to North Korea. It did not happen often enough to be considered a frequent occurrence, but it was not at all unheard of either, and it was a very good explanation for the disappearance of an entire fishing crew and their ship. As such, the search served a second, less friendly purpose: to find evidence of a connection between the missing and the North, something to indicate their sympathy for the communist regime and desire to switch alliances.

The supervisor watched, expressionless, as his officers went through this particular man’s personal things. So far the only item of interest had been several semi-packed bags, indicating a visitor had also been staying with the man, and was also at this point considered missing. The ringing of the phone pulled the supervisor’s attention away from his men’s work.

“Officer Choi of the BaengNyeongDo Police speaking.”

“The police? I’m sorry, I’m calling to speak to my brother. What-?”

“May I know to whom I am speaking? Mrs…?”

“Mrs. Kim.”

“And your relationship to Mr. Kim?”

“I’m his younger sister. But, wait. Why are you-“

“And where is it that you are currently residing Mrs. Kim?”

“I live in Seoul with my family, but-“

“I’ll need you to give me your exact address Mrs. Kim.”

“My exact… Listen will you please tell me what’s going on? This is my brother’s home number. Why is it that I’m speaking to the police? Where is my brother? Where is my son?!” A pause.

“Your son, Mrs.?”

“Yes, my son. Kim Junsu. He is visiting his uncle for the summer. Please let me speak with him, I don’t know what all this is about but I just want to make sure that he’s-“

“I am afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t you do that?! I know my son, there’s no way he’s gotten himself into trouble with the law, he simply isn’t like that. Now you put him on the phone this instant or you-“

“He is currently missing, Mrs. Kim.”

“…what…?”

Darkness.

Junsu had lost all sense of reality. He was still huddled with the other fishermen, but he had spoken hardly a word since the day they were captured. His first attempt resulted in him coming face to face once again with the barrel of a gun, and after that he’d kept his mouth shut. He hadn’t seen the light of day since the North Korean ship had docked and they’d been transferred to the back of a truck, let out only once after sunset and once in the early morning before sunrise to relieve himself. They were on the move in that same truck now, constantly jostled and jolted as the bulky vehicle traveled over roads that Junsu guessed were poorly paved if at all.

Silence.

He winced as yet another jerk aggravated his ankle. The small sprain he’d all but forgotten the day of his capture had grown sensitive and painful, made worse by the bad conditions. It had become swollen and bruised to the point that even the smallest of movements made Junsu grit his teeth. The truck swung left suddenly and his head whipped back, colliding with the wall and eliciting a whimper from the abused captive. It earned Junsu the nervous stares of the others, but none of their sympathy. There was not a single one of them who wasn’t hurting now.

Pain.

The car stopped abruptly and the sounds of the soldiers getting out, giving out orders, reached the ears of the men through the sides of the vehicle. Junsu tried to remember what time it was, tried to remember what day it was, but gave up quickly. Had it been a week? Two? The nightmare was never ending, the cruel and unusual punishments only increasing in number. His clothes were soiled, anything of value confiscated or broken in front of his eyes. His ankle pained him with every movement, and the lack of proper meals kept his insides in a constant state of discomfort. His throat was scratchy from disuse. He felt so tired of crying, so tired of fearing the soldiers’ reaction should they discover his tears.

Hunger.

The double doors to the back of the truck were swung open, flinging outward until they reached their limit and groaned in resistance. The brightness of daylight made all the men squint, but the soldiers paid no attention. Junsu, being closest to the doors, was grabbed first. He was pulled sideways from the truck in such a manner that he very nearly fell, his ankle screaming at him. His hands were tied, and he knew very well that his captors would be all too pleased to watch him fall on his face, if only because it would give them an excuse to shout at and threaten him again. He was made to wait for the others and took the chance to look around. It was easy to see why they were being brought out in daylight. They had reached some sort of military base. Guards stood everywhere Junsu could see, heavily armed and menacingly expressionless, all proudly serving their North Korean dictator.

Fear.

It took no time at all for one of their captors to decide Junsu had spaced out enough. He shoved him roughly, using his gun rather than his hands, and Junsu merely turned and walked where indicated, knowing it would be pointless to refuse. He had no doubt they would merely end up in one more cage. Although he was dying inside he kept his features blank, hiding the pain walking caused him, hiding the fear and the tears that wanted to fall so badly. What good would showing his weaknesses do? It was all he could do to keep up a strong front. If he couldn’t pretend to be strong, his weakness might really overcome him.

Cold.

Sure enough he and the others were filed down to the cold, concrete building’s basement and led into a cell, one of several in a hall lined on either side with the compact metal boxes – each barred and empty of anything but the bodies inhabiting it, and barely those. He and the others were put in their own cell, facing one that held several more men of various ages. A superior officer stood by watching, his uniform crisp and perfectly fitted, a smirk of contempt marring his ugly arrogant face. Junsu remained standing, his still tied hands hanging limply in front of him, his gaze cast on the shiny black shoes. What he wouldn’t give to be able to spit on them like in the movies. The door swung shut, the bolt locking into place with a resounding click-bang. Junsu felt his life had become nothing but a series of cages and locks – each one slightly different, but all of them cold, unrelenting, dark, and empty.

“Welcome to Pyongyang* you filthy bastards.”

The officer leaned forward until his face was as close to the bars as possible without touching them. “You’re traitors to your country now. Better suck it up, because they’ll never take you back.” His voice came out in a harsh whisper. He then pulled back and saluted. “Hail the great leader!” The other officers immediately followed suit.

“Hail the great leader!” They marched away, identical shiny black boots clicking in time against the concrete floor. Junsu waited until the sounds of the footsteps had faded. No one moved. No one spoke. Tears brimmed again in Junsu’s eyes, and he let his body fall back against the wall before sliding down to the floor. Home. While he could still remember, while he could still be sure that somewhere out there it existed, that this prison was the dream and not reality, he wanted to go home.

Junsu was sleeping fitfully, half leaned up against the wall with his body curled up to try and keep warm, when the sounds of mismatched footsteps accompanied by the familiar click clack of shiny black shoes roused him. He didn’t lift his head, but his eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness. At first his gaze stayed on the ground, watching the shoes approach, noting that one pair was not shiny, noting that someone else had been brought down to be caged. Slowly he lifted his gaze. He could barely make out the figure, but no doubt it was a young man, black hair hidden under a military cap. One of their own Junsu realized. And what had he done, Junsu wondered. But what had any of them done to deserve this? Who could ever do something bad enough to really deserve this?

The man came to stop just a foot away from where Junsu lay. The soldier reached up and tore the cap from his head. He kicked him in the back of the legs and the young man fell forward, landing on his knees with a painful sounding thud. He made no protest, letting his head tilt forward. At that angle, Junsu could just make out his eyes, one dull, dark brown, the other cloudy white. Blind.

A metal door screeched open. The eyes disappeared as the young man was literally kicked into the cell next to Junsu’s.

“To think you wanted to be a soldier. What use could you have ever been to the great leader? Enjoy your service reward, country trash.” The door creaked, clanged, clicked shut. The shiny black shoes click-clacked away. Junsu shut his eyes.

He dreamed of clouds.

The next day Junsu had all but forgotten his neighbor of sorts. None of the captured men spoke; they knew the guard was just waiting for a chance to lash out, bitter about having been given a lowly job like playing baby sitter in the dungeon. The hours came and went. When their one meal was served his neighbor was the only one who didn’t get rations.

“I think you’re fit enough to go hungry today. Maybe it’ll help remind you of who you really are.” Junsu could still remember the officers exact words. Nighttime found Junsu still slouched alone by the wall, close to the bars but far from the door. There was nowhere to hide from the guns, but the officers’ fists and shiny shoes couldn’t reach him there. Sleep tugged at his eyes but he kept himself awake, listening to the shifts in the others’ breathing, the snores – some soft, others loud – of both the captives and the guard. The noise merged and blurred into the background of his thoughts. It was to this symphony that he usually found himself able to sleep. He was not expecting the sudden whispered voice in the darkness.

“Hey.” Junsu would have jumped if he’d had the energy.

“What?” His surprise made him lose track of his own voice, and his whisper came out louder than intended, the first time he’d used it in weeks.

“Shhh. Reach your hands through the bars.” Junsu blinked. It took him a minute to figure out just who was speaking to him. He tried again, whispering quietly this time, his throat scratchy and dry.

“What?”

“Reach your hands through the bars.” Junsu frowned. He didn’t want to do that. He didn’t even want to move. What if the guard heard? What if the guard saw? “I won’t bite for god’s sake. Look.” Junsu hesitated. Why was this guy talking to him? Glancing nervously around his cell Junsu carefully shifted into more of a sitting position, close enough now that he could peer through the bars. He couldn’t see far enough to look into the neighboring cell, but he could see the young man’s hands, bound like his own, stretching carefully out through the bars. Clasped gingerly between the rejected soldier’s fingers was a piece of peppermint candy. Junsu stared at it for a moment, confused and unsure.

“Why are you giving me this?”

“I have two pieces.” Came the eventual reply. “Plus it’s going to be a long time before you get the chance to eat something sweet again. If ever.” Junsu cringed at that thought and almost turned away. More seconds passed, and still the young man held out the candy. His hands had started shaking from the effort, but he didn’t move them. “Please take it. I have to do at least one thing I won’t regret before I die.” Junsu listened to the strained pleading sound in the stranger’s voice. He stared at the shaking hands. Lifting his own bound arms he navigated his wrists through the bars slowly, reaching as far as he could until his fingers brushed the other’s. The candy was pushed against his palm and he clenched his fist around it, pulling it and his hands back through.

“Thanks.” He said quietly. He looked at the candy, then pushed it into a pocket. They sat in silence for a little while longer. Junsu couldn’t help but wonder if he should hate this young man. He had been a soldier hadn’t he? He’d probably done plenty of things worth hating before he’d lost his status. Then again what did Junsu know anyway? Not a whole hell of a lot at this point, and certainly nothing about this foreign nightmare of a place or its people.

“How did you… get candy in a place like this anyway?”

“I had it on me when they grabbed me to bring me down here. I know you were listening earlier, so you know... I was training to be a soldier before this.”

“A soldier.” Junsu confirmed after a moment. Soldier. There were no soldiers here. Only monsters.

“So you’re from the South, huh?”

“From Seoul.”

“Seoul? They’re nabbing people all the way in Seoul now? That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“I was visiting my uncle on BaengNyeongDo.”

“…oh.” There was a pause, heavy with knowing. “So then he…”

“Was left behind dead on his boat.” Junsu answered coldly.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Sorry…” Junsu murmured, almost too softly for his neighbor to hear. Did that help? He wondered. Did sorry make it better? Did it lessen the pain? Did it lessen the anger? Sorry was just a word, yet in that ice box of a cell, alone and lost in a place Junsu knew only through history books, it was comforting even coming from the mouth of a rejected enemy soldier. Enemy. Was that what he was?

“And you?”

“Hmmm?”

“Your hometown. Where are you from?” He hadn’t meant it, but his tone seemed to say ‘even someone like you has to have come from somewhere’. A strange sound reached Junsu’s ears then. A chuckle? But it held feelings too deep for that. Regret? Longing? Irony? In a world like this, Junsu was almost surprised to find the remnants of a real person behind the soulless soldier mask.

“Hometown? I wonder…”

“You don’t remember?” Once again there was silence for a time.

“Hoeryong*. I was born in Hoeryong.”

…living in a place…

* Pyongyang and Hoeryong [http://www.lonelyplanet.com/maps/asia/north-korea/map_of_north-korea.jpg]

Through Their Eyes

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 05:22:39 GMT

Title: Through Their Eyes [Stolen]
Pairing: Yoosu
Chapter: 1/?
Genre: Angst
Rating: R
Warning/s: Violence, Swearing
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: But... Imagine yourself...

[Note: I make no promises about my ability to continue/finish this. I will try, but no promises. Comments welcomed.]

I will... never forget that day.

--

The wind whipped through the air, pulling Junsu’s heavy coat tight against his body as if trying to rip the secure fabric away from him. He shoved his hands deep in the pockets, shivering despite the multiple layers of clothing. It seemed that regardless of the season the ocean was always like this, harsh and cold. Junsu knew little of either reality, but he loved visiting his uncle and the island* where he lived.

Truthfully Junsu himself was not much of a fisherman, but he never turned down the invitation to go out on the water. He loved the feeling of forever that the endless waves and open ocean gave him, and he was fortunate enough to not suffer from sea sickness, something that could pose quite a problem on a boat that rocked and swayed as much as his uncle’s. The creaking and groaning caused by the constant motion might have made the stability of the ship seem questionable, but this had never bothered Junsu. The day was overcast, white-grey clouds covering the sky. Although it was not raining, the spray from the sea leapt up over the sides of the small fishing vessel enough that Junsu’s coat was covered in little droplets. He sat by the edge, staring out at the water thoughtfully, ignoring his slightly soaked clothes.

“So what did you say your brother was up to? I feel like I haven’t seen him in years! That boy always has some excuse not to come see me.” Junsu looked up at the familiar voice of his uncle, shaken from his thoughts.

“He’s attending a special summer program to study for the university entrance exam. He wanted to come though.” He answered automatically. It was true that Junho rarely was able to make the trip out to visit. He’d only been about half as many times as Junsu. As much as his brother cared for their uncle, Junsu was sure his frequent absence had something to do with his dislike of fishing.

“Entrance exams huh? What about you? Shouldn’t you be studying too?” Junsu smiled sheepishly.

“Well… I already got accepted on a sports scholarship.” His uncle smiled, giving him a teasing look.

“All play and no work aren’t you? I wonder whose side of the family that comes from. Certainly not your mother’s.” Junsu just smiled. He knew he would never be able to boast the same perfect grades as his brother, but he loved soccer and was content enough to focus on that. Life had always been very simple and easy for Junsu.

But that was about to change.

“Kim?” Junsu’s uncle looked up, sending his comrade a questioning look. “There’s a strange boat approaching from the port side.” The speaker’s voice was laced with an anxious undertone, full of forced calm. Instantly Junsu’s uncle’s face became serious, worry lines appearing on his forehead. Junsu frowned at the change.

“What kind of strange boat?” His comrade shook his head, turning and pointing back toward the other side of the boat. He opened his mouth, perhaps to say something important, perhaps only to verbally explain his gesture, but the words never came. The silence was stuffed instead with a sound that was foreign to Junsu’s ears. The hollow bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of his uncle’s fellow fisherman collapsing onto the deck. Junsu’s eyes widened in utter shock, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened, but his uncle didn’t give him the time to sort out his thoughts. He felt himself being grabbed roughly by the arm and dragged to the top of the stairs leading bellow deck. Chaos had erupted all around as more gunshots rang through the air and the other fishermen abruptly scattered. As Junsu was pulled hurriedly down the stairs he could hear the sound of bodies hitting the deck above, the splash of others leaping or falling into the icy waters.

As his uncle rushed beside him down the steps he tripped over his feat, sending himself tumbling to the ground at the base. He cried out in pain but his uncle spared not a second to check if he’d injured himself. He grabbed his nephew by the arms and hoisted him up roughly, shoving him ahead once more. Junsu wanted to ask what was going on, but he couldn’t get the words out. Everything was happening so fast, and suddenly he found himself being pushed into a crawlspace, his uncle dragging a box to disguise the newly created hiding place.

“Stay here Junsu. No matter what, just stay here. Don’t make a sound.”

“Uncle what-“

“Not a word.” His uncle interrupted firmly, his voice sounding calm and controlled though currents of fear ran underneath. Junsu’s eyes were wide, his hearing heightened by the rush of adrenaline enough to make out the shouting and shooting on the deck above. He blinked and his uncle was suddenly gone from view. Fear overtook him and he struggled to turn about in the small space he’d somehow fit into. No matter how he maneuvered he couldn’t seem to get a view of anything. Pain lanced up his leg as he shifted once more, and he literally bit back a cry of pain as what was likely a sprain in his ankle made itself known. Blood trickled down his lip and he felt tears of frustration brim at his eyes. What was going on? He started to look up and froze at the sound of footsteps hammering down the stairs.

“Look around, search everywhere. There are probably some hiding down here.” Junsu’s heart must have been pounding a mile a minute in his chest. Where had his uncle gone? Who were these people? The language was familiar but the accent…

“Get off of me! Off!”

“Here’s one!” Junsu’s eyes widened further as a small commotion signaled that his uncle’s hiding place had been discovered. There were the sounds of a scuffle and a stray bullet ricocheted off the cabin wall with a loud clanging sound.

“Shut up old man!” The sound of something – a fist? Or the butt of a gun? – connecting with flesh was clear despite the rest of the noise. His uncle made no more protests, merely coughing painfully. “Bring him up with the others.”

“Are we done down here?”

“I’m the only one left, you murderers have killed everyone else.” The remark was strained, and the attempt to dissuade further searching was futile.

“I thought I said shut up!”

“You know what, we don’t need this one.” Another gunshot rang out, and Junsu’s cry caught in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend he was anywhere but there. It didn’t work. “Search every corner, and make it quick.” He listened as his uncle’s body crumpled to the floor and the sound of footsteps drew nearer. He could hear things being sifted through and shuffled around. There must have been several men looking. He prayed with all he had that they wouldn’t find him, but in his heart he just knew that even God would be powerless now.

Not a second later the box was kicked roughly aside and a tanned face appeared much too close for comfort.

“There’s one more here! I knew there would be more of you bastards.” Foreign hands reached in and grabbed him, yanking him out despite his attempts to resist. He had nothing to hold onto and so when he realized his efforts were pointless he lashed out instead, kicking and squirming, trying to reach the man’s face with his fist.

“Let- me- go-“ He struggled with the man, and for the briefest of seconds he thought he might be winning. But oh how wrong he was.

“Why you little- fuck it.” The man pulled away and the horrifying click of the gun being cocked and loaded assaulted Junsu’s ears. “Try that one more time and you can die right here with the rest of your pathetic fisher friends. Now get the fuck up.” Junsu looked up into the man’s eyes, right down the barrel of the gun, and felt fear flood his entire being. He was torn. He couldn’t go with these men, whoever they were. They killed his uncle, he couldn’t go with them. But he wasn’t ready to die. He was too much of a coward for that. He pushed himself up slowly, all the while being followed by the cold metal stare of the gun, the hard eyes of the stranger holding it.

“Now move it.” The gun was jerked in the direction of the stairs. Junsu took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself, trying not to let his gaze drift down to his uncle’s body, trying not to see… The gun made contact with his back and he stumbled forward, once again biting back a gasp of pain. “I said move it.” The man reiterated. Junsu walked ahead of him, up the stairs and back out into the daylight. He didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to see. This was unreal. This was a dream. This was a nightmare. This…

The boat was strewn with bodies, the water full of them. He told himself not to look, but he couldn’t hold back his painfully curious eyes. A small group of the remaining fishermen had been huddled together at the edge of the boat, 4 or 5 of the original 12, and were being forced across onto the foreign vessel that had pulled up alongside them. Junsu was herded along with the group, the last one. A man grabbed him and searched him, locating his cell phone and smashing it against the wet wood of the deck. He knew better by now than to resist. As he reached the edge he contemplated once more – should he refuse? Should he let himself be killed here? The butt of the gun connected with his back once more and he fell forward onto the other deck. A waiting stranger grabbed him as he fell and pushed him along after the others, barely letting him stay on his feet. When he lifted his eyes again he found himself facing the rest of the fishermen, their eyes full of horror. He turned around abruptly just as a large metal door was slammed in his face, the lock clicking into place with a sickening metallic clang.

Looking beyond the bars Junsu could finally fully take in the men – no the soldiers – who had captured them. He felt like he was staring at characters from some sort of fantasy storybook, some sort of horror fable. Once again he found himself thinking this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t happen. But there was no denying what his perfect eyesight proved.

He was standing in a metal box, caged like an animal, imprisoned by North Korean soldiers.

* BaengNyeongDo Island 백령도 [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Baekryong_location_2.svg]

and then there was...

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 17:26:59 GMT

and then there was...
fewshot part 4/?
yoosu

[note: sorry for the wait. korea is keeping me busy.]

“For the first month or so after I moved I really didn’t get out much. I was a little shy and kept to myself and besides that I was going through some emotional turmoil over the whole deal with my parents. In a way it was good for me though. It gave me time to adjust without bringing in other complications. I got used to Japan fairly quickly, but I didn’t give Japan any chance to get to know me. I didn’t have any real friends here, and I didn’t want to bother any back at home. It was when I went looking for some that the real problems began.”

“You got mixed up with the wrong crowd?” Yoochun glanced over, meeting his companion’s gaze before nodding.

“Something like that.”

Gradually the soft rocking and rumbling of the car lulled Junsu to sleep, his head resting against a combination of his arm and the window. The day’s exhaustion caught up to him, and though he tried to keep his eyes open the silence pulled at his lids until they closed. Yoochun made no further attempts to talk to him or wake him, glancing over only once to take note that his kidnap-e had passed out.

When Junsu finally awoke on his own there was sunlight fluttering against his eyes, soft and gold and not quite yet risen above the horizon. The car had stopped, sitting in comfortable silence. Junsu blinked slowly, squinting, trying to remember where he was and why he was there. A turn of his head brought Yoochun into his line of site, sitting in the driver’s seat with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes focused lazily on the land stretching ahead of them, sunshine reflecting off his face.

“Mhmm…” Junsu groaned lightly, memories of the early morning flooding back to him. He turned back to the window, finally able to process his surroundings. “Where are- is that the beach?” His eyes stretched wider, surprise setting in.

“Looks like it.” Yoochun answered without turning. The waves stretched up over the dimly lit gold sand, reaching as far as they could before losing their grip and slipping back to the ocean. It was beautiful and completely empty of people. Junsu however was too preoccupied to fully appreciate the sight.

“But where… how long were you driving for? There aren’t any beaches near-”

“Shhhh. Just relax ok? Does it really matter? I know you’re probably just as sick of the city as I am.” In his shock Junsu had temporarily forgotten how much he disliked the man sitting beside him, but his displeasure was rapidly returning.

“Of course it matters! I worked all day yesterday only so some random guy could kidnap me and drive me out to the middle of freaking nowhere and then refuse to answer any of my questions- Just because we’re both Korean doesn’t mean you have the right-”

“Shut. Up.” Yoochun leaned into Junsu’s personal space, the glare in his eyes clearly a warning. Junsu was fuming but he slowly forced his jaw shut, keeping in mind that Yoochun could easily abandon him here. The man hovered over him for a few more seconds before pulling away and opening the car door. “Come on.” He shut the door with a slam and walked out onto the sands, hands in his pockets. Junsu gritted his teeth. There was no reason why he should have to listen to this crazy… He shook his head and clenched his fist on the door handle before pushing it open and following slowly.

For the next few minutes the two men walked in silence, Junsu trailing several feet behind Yoochun, his gaze glued to the waves. Although his anger burned inside it gradually left him, replaced by the peacefulness of the quiet beach. This continued for some time, and by the time Junsu realized he caught up with his companion they were quite far from the car, completely alone with the sand and the sun gently warming their skin. They came to a stop together, standing a foot apart although the negative energy between them had temporarily vanished.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” Junsu nodded, but Yoochun didn’t wait for a response. “I like it here, away from everyone. Like my own private paradise or something. It helps me calm down, let’s me think.”

“I’m surprised there aren’t more people here.”

“Well it’s still early, but even on days when I expect company I usually only encounter one or two others.” Silence stretched between them again, and finally Junsu began to feel awkward once more. He heaved a sigh, turning to face the mysterious man beside him.

“Why did you bring me here? What is the purpose of this?” Yoochun glanced at him, but did not turn.

“Why do you always speak in Japanese, even though you know I’ll understand you if you don’t?” Junsu flinched, grimacing.

“Why does it matter? This is the language here, you should be used to it.” Yoochun licked his lips, opening his mouth as if to respond and then shutting it again. He sighed lightly.

“There was no purpose really. I just thought I’d share this with you.” With that he turned and brushed past Junsu, walking back in the direction of the car. The sun was higher now, and in no time at all the heat would become uncomfortable rather than pleasant. Junsu watched after the man for a second, for the first time wondering if he wasn’t being too harsh. When it came down to it, the guy hadn’t really done anything wrong. To be honest, he’d slept better in the car than he had in many nights home in his bed, and waking up at a beach… peaceful and quiet and gorgeous at that… you couldn’t really call that painful. These thoughts circulated in Junsu’s mind all the way back to the car.

Fog was rolling down from the land, obscuring the road and isolating the beach further. Yoochun backed the car up slowly, turning to watch over his shoulder though his gaze passed over Junsu as if he weren’t there. The drive home was as the beach, silent and somehow, lonely.

and then there was...

Wed, 22 Jul 2009 18:08:52 GMT

and then there was...
fewshot part 3/?
yoosu

[note: this chapter should be a little longer. everyone seemed confused about junsu's attitude, but don't worry, it will be explained in time.]

“I moved to Japan when my family crowded me out of Korea. I was… suffocating really. They couldn’t accept who I really was, and I would never be willing to change for someone like that. In any case, I had hoped that Japan would in the very least shelter me from their ignorant criticism, if not rescue me completely.” Here Yoochun paused again, thoughtful. “I had thought they’d be more open here… I was wrong.”

Junsu was among the last of the workers to leave, the sun already set and well on its way to rising again. The lights in the small mart were for the most part turned out, the whole place artfully shadowed and eerily empty. He picked up his things, ditching his work clothes in the back room, and headed for the front doors. His boss would lock up shortly after he left.

It was purely coincidence that he happened to notice a small piece of paper slipped under the windshield wipers of his car. He paused, staring at it, somehow knowing that he would be displeased with whatever message it held. He tossed his things across to the seat opposite the drivers’ before picking up the note. The message was handwritten, but legible.

I know you said you weren’t interested, but I refuse to except that we can’t get along simply because I smoke and you don’t. If you have a better reason you can tell it to my face. We’re going for a drive. Get in.

At that precise moment a pair of headlights flicked on, making him squint and reflecting off the hood of his car. He turned toward them and sure enough there was his stubborn stalker, waiting in the driver’s seat of a car that looked like it had been to hell and back. Junsu sighed, running the hand that wasn’t holding the note through his hair before crumpling the note in his fist with the other.

He wanted to just drive away, and he would have, but the other man had planned this well. His car was now quite effectively blocking Junsu’s own car from going anywhere. He was momentarily tempted to simply risk the damage cost of an accident, but if the guy was this determined it probably wasn’t worth it. The man honked, making Junsu jump slightly, and he sighed again, shutting the door to his car with more force than necessary and making his way over to the passenger seat of his harasser’s trash heap of a vehicle.

He yanked the door open and slid into his seat, shutting it and immediately crossing his arms, refusing to look in the other man’s direction. Yoochun didn’t seem to mind, as he flashed a satisfied smile in Junsu’s direction.

“Well hello there.” He wasted no time, backing up his car and pulling out of the small lot onto the main street, nearly devoid of traffic of any sort by this time. Junsu watched his car slide out of view in the rearview mirror longingly. After a few minutes of silence he finally gave in.

“What are you doing?” Yoochun quirked and eyebrow, his expression confused as if he thought the answer should be obvious.

“I’m taking you for a drive.” Junsu rolled his eyes.

“I mean why are you doing this? Most people would’ve just taken the hint-”

“Maybe I’m not most people.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not like most people. Besides, you clearly have some unwarranted problem with me that you need to get off your chest.” Junsu couldn’t help it this time. He turned so he was facing the man, looking at him as if he were crazy.

“I don’t have a problem with you, it’s just that you interrupted my work, and now you’ve kidnapped me, and I don’t even know who the hell you are.” Yoochun snorted.

“I already introduced myself, so really I’m the one who doesn’t know you. But that’s bullshit and you know it. Your attitude reads ‘I hate you’ all over it.” He didn’t bother to deny kidnapping me, Junsu noted, turning back to the window. But… Junsu fingered the small cross that hung from the silver necklace he wore almost constantly, a nervous habit of sorts.

“Where are we going?” Again Yoochun smiled, though his eyes were kind this time.

“You’ll see.”

and then there was...

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 16:25:28 GMT

and then there was...
fewshot part 2/?
yoosu

[note: these parts will be fairly short as i don't have enough time to make them longer. my apologies. and thanks to those of you who commented the first part of this. i felt sufficiently welcomed back~]

“This…” Finger’s brushed lightly over the inside of Yoochun’s hip, tracing what lay unseen beneath the worn fabric of his pants. Yoochun felt the movement without looking, his eyes trained on the horizon, and he sighed lightly, bringing his own hand up to trap the other, hold it still.

“It’s not really that long of a story.” A pause followed the statement, Yoochun deciding whether or not to extend the invitation his companion was looking for. “If you’d like to hear it…”

“Yeah.”

Junsu worked on autopilot, his hands moving, scanning the various grocery items presented to him, punching memorized keys into the computer, bagging the various goods. Only the rare customer ever requested that he actually read off the price for them. In this way he passed the time with relatively little human interaction, but he was an efficient worker so his boss had chosen, fortunately, to overlook this fault.

His attention for the most part was on the electronic sliding doors, watching the various faces of the people who came in and out, and those milling around in the small parking lot beyond them. Studying the different features, all unique, almost all Japanese. It was this distraction that allowed Park Yoochun to make it all the way to the point of paying unnoticed.

“Well if it isn’t the Korean boy.” The statement was made casually. No hint of teasing. Just fact. Junsu blinked, his attention refocusing as his hands paused their movements briefly. It took him a moment to register the only slightly familiar face. He frowned and glanced back down at his work, scanning the last item, a fresh pack of cigarettes, and adding it to Yoochun’s bag. Yoochun frowned in response.

“Why is it you always greet me with a frown?” Junsu turned to the computer, punching a few buttons before holding out his hand, cash or credit.

“This only the second time I’ve seen you. That can hardly be categorized as ‘always’. Besides which I see no reason why I should smile for random strangers who show up on my porch.” Junsu stated flatly, processing the purchase and turning to hand the man his reciept. “It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to.” His eyes were indifferent, and Yoochun’s own frown deepened.

“I was having an… unpleasant day last time. Not exactly in the mood to be personable. But it really has been a while since I met someone who could speak my language… Why don’t we get together when you finish work, get a couple of drinks or someth-”

“It’s been quite a while since I was in the mood to be personable, and I don’t intend to change that today. If you don’t mind, there are other customer’s waiting.” Junsu interrupted, picking up Yoochun’s bag and holding it aside for him.

“But-”

“Not interested. Take your cigarettes and move along. You’re in the way.” Yoochun hesitated just a second longer, then nodded, taking the bag from Junsu’s hand. He turned and left without another word.

and then there was...

Sun, 19 Jul 2009 16:39:14 GMT

and then there was...
fewshot part 1/?
yoosu

[note: its been a while... does anyone even remember me? anyway, i've no idea what this is. so yea.]

“Fuck.” Junsu stumbled, tripping up the couple of steps to the front door of his apartment complex, shoes slipping on the rain soaked concrete. His palm thudded against the door and he bit back another curse, using his free hand to haul his keys out of the back pocket of his shorts.

“Hey.” The soft voice caught him off guard and he cursed again, nearly dropping his keys. He turned and looked down, noticing for the first time the man sitting just a few feet away taking shelter from the downpour on the apartment steps. He was met with dark eyes that had dark wet hair dripping into them. The rythmic thudding of the rain could be heard in the seconds of silence that followed, Junsu getting lost in a stranger’s gaze. He frowned.

“Who are you?” The stranger’s eyes broke away to look Junsu over, a detached assessment of the young man’s character as conveyed by his outword appearance: wet clothes, a t shirt with fragments of the english language wrecked across it and the shorts, sneakers, an unfortunately small umbrella tucked under one arm, and dyed brown hair, cut short and half-assedly styled with a few extra minutes in front of an uneccesarily large mirror. The man ignored the question altogether.

“Got a light?” He held up a cigarette between two pale, slender fingers. Junsu eyed the object with mild distaste, debating internally the pros and cons of simply entering the apartment and abandoning the conversation right there. Then he sighed and searched through another pocket for his lighter.

“Everybody fucking smokes, no matter where the fuck I go…” He mumbled under his breath in Korean, flicking the small case open to check that it still worked. “Here.” He added in Japanese. He held it out and the man leaned forward to take it, his eyes still trained on Junsu’s face.

“So you’re Korean too.” The man said, lighting up while continueing to stare. Junsu jerked his head back up at the familiar words, his native language being spoken back to him for the first time in months. Or was it years? Giving the man a second look, he could suddenly detect the slightly foreign style hidden behind the obviously ‘made in Japan’ outfit, the subtle differences in the man’s features, painful hints of home. He flinched, a movement so infinitismal that even his doorstep companion missed it.

“But you don’t smoke?” The man continued, needing no answer to his previous statement. The rain beat harder in a short burst, pounding into the building above and around them, reaching for their feet. Smoke from the lit cigarette rose into the air, as if to physically carry the man’s question to Junsu’s ears. He’d had enough.

“I’m trying to quit.” He held out his hand once more, an unvoiced demand for the return of his lighter. The man watched him a second, twirling the object artfully in his fingers before bringing its movement to an abrupt stop. He leaned forward again and placed it back in its owner’s awaiting palm. Then he pushed himself up. He walked to the edge of the stairs, the cigarette dangling from his fingers, and looked outward and upward, watching the sky’s tears fall from the clouds and seep back into his bangs, dripping into his eyes.

“Park Yoochun.” He said, inhaling once more before tossing the cigarette out onto the street. He turned back just once, “Good luck,” before trotting down the steps to follow it.

Stowaway

Sat, 21 Feb 2009 23:41:38 GMT

Title: Stowaway
Pairing: Yoosu (maybe yunjae)
Genre: fluff, romance (knowing me there will be angst)
Rating: PG right now

Summary: Yoochun's uncle captained a no-nonsense crew, but when he left his ship in Yoochun's hands nonsense took up a permanent residence, along with anyone else Yoochun happened to drag aboard.

Water sloshed against the inside of the small wooden bucket, more and more leaking over the edges with each new wave that rocked the ship, coating the floor even without the help of the grey, worn down mop. The salty liquid pooled around the bucket’s base, leaving a hefty puddle every time it was moved. The boy could care less about his work. He’d given up any hope of ever actually cleaning the vessel. It was an impossible task. He half heartedly pushed his cleaning tool over the permanently dirty wooden planks, rocking back and forth with the boat out of habit, his small body swaying on newly acquired ‘sea legs’.

As the youngest crew member, an impressive seven years old, Yoochun was fit only for the worst of the jobs, mostly cleaning or helping the cook. He grumbled sullenly and swirled the mop (a good foot taller than he was) in a small circle before him, dragging the water about and leaving wet streaks before smudging his failed attempt at water art. His uncle, the ship’s captain, had taken him in when his mother fell ill. Who knew where his jerk of a father had gone. For the moment he hated the sea. He could not think of a single thing he liked about his life aboard the boat, but he had no other choice.

As he made his way slowly through the ship’s rather large cargo hold he paid little attention to where he was going, occasionally knocking into one of the huge boxes of what ever it was they were carrying. The space he’d been left to move through was annoyingly small even for a boy his size.

“Yah! Stupid box!” Yoochun glared up at yet another box as the boat shifted and sent him sideways against it before turning and kicking it with all the strength he could muster. This was one of those decisions one immediately regrets. Yoochun winced in pain and bent over a little, letting a soft ‘ow’ escape his lips. He continued to glare, forehead crinkled into a frown while he tried to ignore the stinging sensation of pain that was now throbbing in his left leg. It was in this small moment of silence that an unfamiliar sound reached his ears. His body went stiff as he listened, straining to hear above the pounding of water against the boat’s hull. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Leaving his now nearly empty bucket forgotten, he walked forward with a purpose, mop still clutched defensively in his hands. He realized he was near the very back of the boat. Several more turns brought him to the last row of boxes, stacked impressively up against the curved wooden walls.

He approached the containers, placing one hand against the wood and dragging it along as he walked the length of them, collecting splinters. Between the last box and the boat’s thick, ribbed, side was a small space. He reached this and turned to peer into it, one hand still braced on the side of the crate beside him. The space was dark, cast under the shadow of the boxes looming above it. To be honest he was surprised the crates hadn’t shifted and closed the gap. He stared curiously, trying to decipher something in the darkness. The sound was definitely coming from here. He leaned forward slightly, squinting as his eyes adjusted, before opening them wide in shock.

There, huddled in the cramped space, was another boy. Maybe his age, maybe not, but smaller non-the-less and quivering and sniffling terribly, the sounds interspersed with an uncomfortable groaning noise. It was the latter that Yoochun had heard. The other was obviously crying and most likely sea sick, his hands wrapped around his stomach as he twisted uncomfortably in what little room he had. Yoochun could only gape at him, desperately trying to remember what to do when you found someone on board who was not supposed to be there. He stumbled back and let his mouth fall open.

“S-s-stowaway!” Dropping his mop he bolted back through the cargo hold, knocking his bucket over as he sprinted for the stairs. “Captain there's a stowaway!”

Yoochun paused outside the Captain’s room, looking around carefully to make sure he was alone before leaning forward to peek through the gap made by the slightly opened door. The other boy was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, legs crossed with his chin balanced in his hands. His hair was a dusty dark brown, a compliment to his round brown eyes. For the moment he was pouting unhappily. He had regained some of his strength, and after puking his guts out for half an hour seemed to be temporarily over his sea-sickness, but he was still too weak to be put to work so he was being kept under constant watch by the captain until he could be kicked off at the next port.

It was surprising that he’d managed to stay alive so long without being discovered. Sure, hardly anyone ever went down that far into the ship’s hull, but he had to eat sometime didn’t he? The captain had said that he must have somehow gotten aboard at the previous stop, which would mean he’d been fending for himself below deck for almost a week. At such a young age this was an impressive feat. Yoochun didn’t really understand the gravity of this, but he was curious about the boy anyway. In all his seven years of life, Yoochun had never spoken to another boy his age. Not that he remembered anyway.

However, he would not be getting a chance to speak to this boy it seemed, not only because his uncle refused to let the two near each other, but also because the boy himself would not utter a word. He resisted even the simplest of questions, not even revealing his name. Yoochun was tempted to push the door open further and approach this strange being, but just then a grunt sounded behind him. Startled he jumped back before bowing respectfully and scampering away. His uncle was not well known for his gentleness, that was for sure.

Junsu trudged down the ramp from the boat to the dock, his feet feeling heavy and dragging with each step. Less then a foot from the dock he paused and turned to look back at the ship. His eyes settled on a small figure, a boy standing on the deck looking down at him. The boy had dark eyes and even darker black hair, short and tussled into a windswept mess. As he watched the boy stared at him blankly, then suddenly grinned brightly at him, waving cheerily.

Junsu glared back for a moment without returning the smile, until a prod from the captain standing behind him urged him forward. He turned and stepped off onto the dock and away from the ship. When he turned back around the boy was gone.

Yoochun rested his forearms against the rusty railing as he watched his ship steer slowly into port, pulling up alongside another smaller boat as the crew ran around tying it down to hold it in place at the dock while they refilled the hull with cargo. The port city was decent sized, one of the larger ones they stopped at. People crowded on the dock, waving to friends they knew or getting ready to board one of the other ships that had stopped there. He knew a couple of his crew members had relatives here, siblings or cousins or even nieces and nephews. Even so, they would probably only be here a few hours. It wasn’t their main stop.

Turning he walked by the open door to the captain’s room and leaned in.

“Hey Yunho? I’m going to head into town for a bit. Pick up a few things.” Yunho made sure the ship was secure before turning away from the wheel.

“A few things?”

“Just this and that. Nothing important. Some more whiskey maybe. Want anything?” Yunho shook his head.

“I’m alright. Don’t stay out there too late ok? We’re supposed to make our next stop by tomorrow evening, so I’d say you have about an hour at most.”

“Me? Late?” Yoochun did his best to look offended, an exaggerated pout tugging at his lips before his incorrigible smile broke through, leaving behind a cheeky grin. Attempting to look innocent never even crossed his mind. “When have I ever been late?” Only all the time, Yunho thought, rolling his eyes.

“Should Moonbin come with you?”

“I don’t need a kid to be my nanny Yunho.” Yunho looked doubtful but just waved Yoochun away. Smiling to himself the man gave a mock salute before turning to take the stairs two at a time, and facing the wrong way at that. If it was anyone else they’d be in deep shit for that, but Yoochun loved to blatantly defy any and every rule. It was his ship after all.

As he approached the ramp leading down off of the main deck a young boy carefully slid himself down off the top of the wooden barrel he’d turned into a stool and trotted toward him.

“Um, sir? Are you going into town? Can I come?” Yoochun smiled fondly at the kid. Yunho was really determined to make sure he got back on time. The guy really needed someone better to fuss over. Reaching out he ruffled the boy’s already tangled hair with his hand.

“Yes I am and no you can’t. Stay here and make sure no stragglers end up on board, ok?” The boy sighed gratefully, looking very relieved that he didn’t have to waste his break following Yoochun around. “Oh and tell Yunho I said thank you.” He blushed a little at this and Yoochun winked, giving him an affectionate pat on the head. Having dismissed his would-be babysitter, Yoochun skipped the rest of the way down to the dock, swaying with it as it gave in ever so slightly to the tug and pull of the waves.

For a good part of his free ‘hour’ on shore Yoochun simply wandered around, perusing the various little shops that lined the port’s beachside main street and flipping up the skirts of young girls he passed so he could smirk to himself while they squeaked in surprise and outrage. He stayed true to his word and picked up a few bottles of whiskey, but quickly grew bored with the rest of the sights. It wasn’t until he was sauntering back toward his own boat that something of interest caught his attention.

There was another young man standing at the start of the dock, his gaze cast out over the various boats. He was dressed casually, clearly a landlubber if his attire was any indication, with a small bag hanging at his side, the strap slung over one shoulder and slashing across his back over his jacket. He had his hands in his pockets and his pose was unassuming, but he had an ass bigger than Yoochun’s ship. It was that not so small fact, and that the man was alone, that slowed Yoochun’s steps until he was standing quite literally right behind the man. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, silently approving of the difference in height.

“They’re something, aren’t they?” The man jumped, startled, and spun around, his mouth opening and closing in a silent stutter for a few seconds before he regained control of himself, one hand clutching at where his heart was probably beating furiously in his chest.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” The young man’s eyes were still wide, the dusty brown bangs falling carelessly over his eyes going unnoticed. Yoochun barely contained his amusement, his smile warm.

“Sorry about that. Couldn’t resist. Your reaction was really too cute.” The man blushed several shades of red at that comment. Yoochun was a shameless flirt, and on top of that quite shamelessly gay. He messed with pretty girls because he knew his charm let him get away with it, but he messed with guys only when he thought they were attractive enough to be worth it. He’d taken a few punches for that. “So you like boats?” He queried, reaching past the still flustered young man to pluck a bright yellow flower from a nearby plant. The man visibly jerked but didn’t step back.

“Ah, something like that.” Yoochun quirked an eyebrow, twirling the flower in his fingers with his eyes trained on the guy’s face.

“So you just standing here for the view? Or were you going somewhere?” The guy seemed to be recovering as they eased into more normal conversation, and he turned back toward the boats slightly.

“Just standing here.” He sounded regretful, like he might’ve liked to answer he was going somewhere but something was stopping. Yoochun stopped twirling the flower.

“Ever been on a boat before?” The man’s gazed flicked back to Yoochun and then away again.

“Just once.” The response had an edge to it, again hinting that there might be more to the story. Instantly an idea struck Yoochun and his smile lit up again as if someone had struck a match to it.

“What d’ya say we make that twice, huh?” He slung his arm over the guy’s shoulders and steered him out onto the dock. “This beautiful hunk of wood over here is Cassiopeia. She’s all mine, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you taking a tour.”

“No, wait-” He ignored the man’s sputtering protests and practically dragged him up the ramp, waving to the boy he’d greeted on deck earlier as they passed and ignoring the curious look he received in return. He continued to drag the man all the way to the opposite side of the boat where they could look out at the bay stretching away from them toward the open ocean.

“Now if that isn’t the most welcoming sight you’ve ever seen I don’t know what is.” The man was breathing a little harder from struggling. Yoochun was fairly strong despite his lanky looks. He slackened his hold so his arm was just resting lightly over the guy’s shoulders, the bag with his bottles of whiskey clutched carefully in one hand while the little flower still occupied the other. The man didn’t reply, just shook his head and stared out at the water, no longer resisting. A shadow fell across his face from the upper deck looming over them, and Yoochun felt a brief spark of familiarity. He tried to think back over the many people he’d met at various ports, at this same port even, but no, it had to be farther back even than that. In his mind’s eye he could still picture the little stowaway he’d encountered when he was seven, and for a second he thought that just maybe this guy might be him.

“You look like you need an escape.” He said out of nowhere, and the guy turned toward him, his expression blank but his eyes darting over Yoochun’s face as if he were searching for some secret hidden there. Yoochun smiled and nudged his shoulder. “Feel free to stay on board as long as you like.” With that he slid his arm back down to his own side and headed back around to the front of the ship so he could oversee the departure preparations and have a look at the chart of what goods had been unloaded or added. Just because he acted like a carefree idiot didn’t mean he didn’t take his job seriously. He had stepped out from behind the wheel in favor of letting Yunho play boss and throw around orders, but his uncle had left the boat to him, and no one would deny he was still undoubtedly the captain.

20 minutes later he watched with satisfaction from his favorite stretch of railing as his ship backed toward open water, swaying pleasantly with the rising tide. Only then did he note with interest that the man he’d invited aboard had not yet decided to leave.

[no title]

Tue, 10 Feb 2009 04:24:03 GMT

Untitled
Yoosu
fluff/angst maybe
PG for a swear word

[note: for those of you who snooped around my journal and saw the first part of this... here's part two. i still refuse to dedicate myself to writing this because i just don't know if i can stick to the comitment, and im not posting it anywhere but my journal, but if you want to read and see how far i do get, feel welcome. point of view should be obvious, but just in case yoochun's pov first and junsu's second.

if you don't know what this is, scroll down an entry or so for my "untitled" work and read that first.]

I blink against the brightness of the sun as I follow my mom through the parking lot to the only slightly familiar front doors of the orphanage. It looks like a mix between a hospital and a high school, the second floor looming awkwardly over the comparably small number of spaces for the cars of the few daily visitors. The whole building is washed in a pale tan color, almost pinkish, but so faint it looks white with the sunlight glancing off of it.

I have to admit I don't remember much else about the place. My mom says I tune the world out too much, but I don't see what the point of paying more attention would be. Besides, there is only one reason I even agreed to come back today. It has nothing to do with the two toddlers my mom has become infatuated with. While I'm sure they're both cute I'm just not... interested in having a younger sibling. I like kids but... well anyway that's not it. I agreed because if there is anything besides the ugly color of the walls that I remember about this place, it's Junsu.

The first time I encountered him was an accident. I'd had my headphones in, as deaf to the world as he is blind. I'd been forced to come along that time, but I'd managed to sneak away from my parents and had simply been wandering. It was the kids who bumped into me in their flight down the hall that drew my attention back to the living world. Somehow one of them had managed to knock out my headphones but before I could even begin to get angry I found myself with an armful of boy-young man to be exact. I don't know which of us was more shocked, but I pushed him back up. I have no idea what possessed me to guide his hand back to the wall, I just sort of did it without thinking.

To be honest he made me a little nervous at first, but there was just something about him that drew me in. Maybe it's the fact that he seems so out of place... so all alone among all the five and six year olds. In any case I knew in an instant it would be much more interesting to spend some time talking to him than it would to wander around aimlessly. Unfortunately I didn't really get much of a chance.

"What's your name?"

"Junsu... yours?"

"Park Yoochun." I jumped a little as my phone suddenly called out from my pocket. I fumbled around until I could check the caller I.D. flashing on the screen. My mother. "Um... sorry. It's my parents." I sent him an apologetic glance, brushing a button on the side of the phone to switch it to silent. He just released a hand from under his head to wave dismissively, his empty gaze still locked on the ceiling.

"Um... right. I guess... I'll see you around." I'm pretty sure he laughed a little under his breath at that, as if to say 'yeah right' but he said nothing else as I left his room and made my way back down the hallway.

Anyway, I'm determined to talk to him now. He might make me nervous, but it feels like a good kind of nervous. I'm not the most social guy to be honest, but then he isn't either of course. I think... well I'm pretty sure the fact that he's blind has something to do with it, but I think there's something else, and that's what I want to find out. I'm actually surprised I remember the way to his room, but now that I'm paying attention I realize I hadn't really wandered that far when I ran into him last time. Now I'm just hoping he's actually in his room, instead of wandering around somewhere...

--

I am typing at the compter when I hear the soft knock on my door, a strangely familiar yet at the same time foreign voice reaching my ears. I pause in my typing, waiting silently for whoever it is to let themselves in. Most people don't wait for an invitation-they all think I'm retarded anyway. Sure enough the door creeks open a little, making a soft rasping sound as it brushes inward over the carpet. I hear my name again louder, and that's when it hits me.

It's that guy again. Yoochun.

I smile despite myself, a little ironic laugh barely caught between my teeth. So he really did come back to see me. What a weirdo.

"Come in Yoochun, I'm not gonna eat you." I can hear him shuffle a little and the door creaking and rustling as it opens fully to let him through before sweeping back and clicking closed again. "Have a seat wherever." I invite him, still staring at where I believe the computer screen to be. I hardly ever turn to face people anymore. It just doesn't make any sense if I can't see them.

"How did you know it was me?" He asks, more shuffling carpet noises and the crunching sound of the one whicker chair alterting me to his choice of seat. I can hear the confusion in his voice and I try to picture him frowning, his eyebrows pulled together as he ponders the mystery that is me. I purse my lips a little at his ignorance before I reply.

"I'm not deaf you know. I can recognize your voice." I stress some of the words to emphasize my point.

"Oh yeah... I guess I didn't think about that." He sounds thoroughly chastized so I let it go. He didn't mean it anyway.

"Whatever. Now you know. So why are you back? You're obviously not helping your parents get a new kid adjusted." I tap the keyboard under my fingers lightly, enjoyig the soft clacking sound it makes. When he doesn't answer imidiately I almost turn toward him and have to catch myself. I frown a little. "Hello? Anybody there?" He obviously misjudges the tone of my voice because he next response is abrupt.

"Yeah I'm still here." He sounds worried, maybe thinking he's upset me again. I chuckle a little.

"I know that dummy. I was asking if you'd dazed out on me. I asked why you're here. Not with your parents." Since it seems that our conversation is going to be just as halting as last time I resume my typing, having carefully remembered the word I left off on. It's not that easy to check back if I forget, so I tend to put a good amoutn of effort into remembering. The pause stretches out again, but he eventually answers.

"I'm just here with my mom this time actually..." An indirect answer, very helpful. I wait for him to continue. "I don't know. I guess I was just... well we really didn't get to talk much last tiem you know?" This time I'm the one who pauses, my fingers stilling briefly on the keys as I reflect on that. I guess our conversation did get cut short. His mom called him away for some reason. That doesn't really explain why he wants to pick it up again now though. I resume typing slowly, still not sure how to respond to that.

"I guess so." Thinking about it just confuses me. I'm really not all that much fun to hang around, even I'm aware of that. I know my attitude is bitter and I'm ruder than necessary, as if it helps make up for my blindness in some way. I'm a guy, you know? I want to seem tough just like every other guy out there. Or at least I assume that's the norm. So why this guy who has no connection to me what-so-ever, not even the hint of an obligation, would willingly want to come talk to me... I mean I hardly have anything to say. Over the clicking of the keys under my fingers I hear him shift again.

"How do you... do that?" I pause my typing again.

"Do what?" The silence is so heavy I can hear him lick his lips, a little popping sound made by the movement of his mouth.

"That. Typing. How do you know..." He trails off, obviously realizing his curiosity has dulled his judgment again. This time however I'm not offended. Not all blind people can type like I can. It's a skill I had to learn, and I'm proud of it. In fact using the computer itself is a challenge, but I have nothing better to do than practice anyway.

"The keys have brail on them so I know where the letters are even if what's typed on the screen is in Korean. If I lose my train of thought I can have the last sentence read back to me through the computer speakers." I can hear the hint of pride in my own voice, and I'm actually interested to know how Yoochun will react.

"Wow... it seems... like it would be difficult to learn. How long did it take you?" I smile ridiculously at the impressed, if slightly predictable (what was he going to do? tell me it was lame?), response.

"It was as hard as can be expected." I work to school my features back into neutrality. Since I can't see peoples reactions and have to wait and listen for them, I often try to hide my own emotions. It just... feels unfair to me that everyone can read me like an open book and I can't even look at them to attempt to read. My next statement is blunt fact. "Of course just about everything is harder for me." He doesn't seem to have a response to that, simply mumbling 'oh' under his breath.

The momentary excitement is gone, and silence spreads out between us again. I contemplate resuming my typing, but suddenly I feel uncomfortable. I've shot nearly every attempt at a nice conversation down, and now I'm feeling bad about it. I tap one key with my index finger thoughtfully, fidgeting, then withdraw my hands completely and search around for the mouse. I find it quick enough, but it's still embarrassing. Yoochun makes no comment though.

I hit the left click button and I know without seeing that a list of options has appeared on the screen. The computer reads off the first one in an electronic voice that suddenly sounds unbearably annoying to me. 'Save'. I hit the right click button to select it. My computer is set up so that the left button opens menus and shifts through the options, while the right click selects them. It is a little tedious, but I don't really have a choice. Besides it's not like I'm surfing the internet or something.

Next the computer reads out 'quit' and I click that. Another left click brings up the menu for my desktop. I already know I have to left click five times to get to the option I want- 'shut down'. I rush, feeling awkward as the computer tries to keep up with me, getting out just a sound or two before switching and finally shutting down the computer. I reach forward and fumble for the button that will turn off the screen, pushing it with a sort of finality. For some reason my heart is beating a little bit fast. I've never hated the computer more in my life for its stupid electronic voice. Yoochun hasn't said a word. I fist my hands briefly in frustration, wondering why I'm getting worked up about this, then force myself to relax, leaning back in my chair and letting out a sigh.

Finally I turn my chair, listening for Yoochun's breathing so I can angle myself toward him before letting my gaze drop downward. There's a pause, and when Yoochun does speak up he sounds hesitant, unsure.

"Junsu... you ok?" I am a little surprised at how quickly he understood, but then I'm sure emotions look more obvious to other people than they feel to me. I frown a little and rest my head in my hands, rubbing my sightless eyes gently with my elbows propped on the arms of my desk chair.

"Yea, I'm just tired. I'm not... used to company." I'm obviously not explaining everything, but I'd rather give a somewhat normal answer then one that betrays how... useless I feel. My computer has to fucking talk to me. I am retarded.

"I'm sorry Junsu." He still sounds unsure, like he doesn't really know what to say. I just shake my head, my face still cradled in my palms. I hear him shuffle a little and wonder why he's fidgeting, when suddenly warmth floods my shoulder and he is squeezing it gently with one hand. I realize he was standing up, not fidgeting, and I can feel how nervous he is through the small contact he's initiated, but I'm too surprised to react. I lift my head simply out of shock and turn it toward him slightly, my mouth open in a little 'o' of surprise.

Then his phone beeps loudly and he jerks his hand away like he's just touched a hot stove.

"Ah, sorry, just hang on a second..." I can hear him fumbling around for his phone again, just like last time. I take his moment of distraction to give myself a little shake. Honestly I don't know what's wrong with me today. I school my features back into a normal expression again, guessing before Yoochun even explains that it's his mom calling. Now I regret turning off my computer.

I can hear him pushing buttons on his phone and the beeping stops.

"It's my mom again." He says, but then he just stand there, his phone probably still open in his hand because I never heard it snap shut. I have this vague feeling he's staring at me, and an urge to try and stare back grips me, but I force it back down. Even if I managed to look in the right direction I can't meet his eyes without seeing him.

"You'd probably better go. I'm sure she'll be waiting for you. She doesn't know you're here right?" There's a pause.

"No... she doesn't." Still he doesn't move.

"Well... " I search for the right words. I hope you enjoyed talking to me? I'm glad you came back? "Thanks." My answer is blunt and abrupt, but when I think about it, I really am thankful.

"Yeah. Yeah I guess I'll... I'll see you around." Then he pats my shoulder awkwardly, hesitantly, before making his way quickly to my door and out into the hall. I listen to the door close, to the sound of his footsteps dissapearing outside until I can't hear them anymore. And for some reason that I can't quite figure out, I find myself wondering if I really will see him around. I feel like I believe him just a little this time, and... I think I might be hoping it's true.

you fit into me

Tue, 13 Jan 2009 04:50:40 GMT

Title: you fit into me
Pairing: yoosu
Genre: angst

[note: cookies if this makes any sense to you. it was inspired by a poem (listed at the end) and is written in the same style.]

slap

the noise rings loud in the cavernous room
sharp

as it splits through the air
echoing
echoing
echoing

bouncing off the walls and high ceiling and floor
as a ball bounces round
directionless and
deep sunset orange thrumming close to the ground
then it rolls and rolls to a faraway corner where it finally stills
both

sounds undisturbed
by anything

but the two bodies
two chests
rising and falling

slow
and
steady

harsh

they are shocked still
both

the game if it were ever important forgotten
bright eyes
locked and flashing
in the almost darkness

one with his hand raised
hovering unsure
when the other stops

the slow in
and out
pattern of breathing stuck caught
in his throat

then sounds the sudden squeak on the slick floor of shoes
and the thud bang beat
of a drum on the wall
of a back making contact
hurried and forced with
two clammy hands wrapped tight up in soft cloth
loose white
uniform

tense but
still

and quiet returns

softly
follows the light touch of skin to skin

slow
and
steady
yet hovering unsure

here is where they meet
where they fight
where they play
this close
so close
touching and too close

here is where they are what they should not be
fit into each other
and yoochun knows
that for all that it hurts him
slap stinging
skin buring
he cannot let go

hooked as they are
through the heart

then he pushes away
stiff still
and violent
wet lips tight and hiding his secrets
frustrated
this followed by rhythm set steps to the door before

slam

and lonely quiet settles down
in the school gym
once more

--

you fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye

poem by Margaret Atwood

[question: i'd be curious to know who you think left at the end and why?]

[no title - borrowed from my idea bin]

Thu, 11 Dec 2008 09:02:56 GMT

Pairing: Yoosu
Genre: probably a fluff/angst mix
Rating: E for everyone (for now)

[note: i wrote this with no real purpose. i often get ideas and jot them down and then go no where with them, but if you want to read it anyway and see where my mind has been all day, feel free. i have a long list of things i should be/want to be writing, but writers block is in my face right now. more from me when it leaves~]

All I see is darkness.

The ground does not rush up at me when I fall, because I do not know where the ground is except for that it was once under my feet.

I do feel the rush of air, the slide of my shoes, the heavy weight of my body and the sensation of falling. I can hear myself, my voice, call out, surprised, the sound a little awkward because the loss of one sense affects all the others.

I did feel the hands that pushed me, firm, strong-sudden and threatening against my chest. I did hear the laughter, and I could feel distinctly how my whole body responded, tensing up at the sound, and I fell that much faster. I am helpless to situations like this. It is foolish to fight back. I’ve tried, but people only laugh. I don’t know what it looks like, but it must seem ridiculous, me whirling around with an angry look on my face, awkward and unstable on my feet, my attackers already long gone.

This is not a first for me. This is not new. Colors… I’ve always wanted to see colors. That would be new for me. But this… this happens everyday at the orphanage. That word, orphanage, always makes me feel strange. I am not a child. I am 17, a young man. People do not think of me when they come to adopt someone, because they are picturing a little baby or toddler in their mind.

What 17 year old lives at an orphanage? It is a place for children, I’ve concluded. They treat me like a child, though I am not sure if this is simply a habit they’ve developed or because I am blind and they’ve concluded that I am therefore stupid, childish. This is ironic, because it is the fact that I am not a child that keeps me here. Blindness does not make me less smart, I want to tell them. But that will not get me out of here. I don’t even know where ‘here’ is. I’ve never seen it, that’s for sure.

I wait to hit the ground, still tensed in anticipation, hoping I won’t break anything, myself included. I am inside, I can tell by the warm air and the distinct indoor smell, as well as the lack of outdoor sounds. I had been walking down a hallway, my hand on the wall to guide me. I don’t use any weird walking stick. I don’t need to draw more attention to myself.

I wait, but I hit something else before the ground. What I hit is both soft and sharp, curves and angles… Bodies feel the strangest to me, the most foreign. I can always name a ‘something’ if I hit it. But I have no idea who the ‘someone’ is. The someone is a he, because my back is pressed to his chest and when I was little I made enough mistakes concerning that to know immediately now.

He is warm, wearing a sweatshirt, and most likely taller than I am. I can tell all of this in an instant, but I am the oldest ‘kid’ at this orphanage, so he is either new here, or with an adopting family. I don’t know how he got close enough to catch me, or why he bothered, but I can feel his hands on my upper arms, holding me steady, pushing me up. I can feel his muscles working.

When I am standing comfortably again he reaches his hand down to grab my left one, gentle but sure, guiding it back to the wall. He is still standing so close I can feel the movement start in his chest and travel to his fingers. People often don’t realize how many muscles inside them are needed for every small movement, even just reaching forward. This action surprises me, because very few people would think to do that. When I lost my balance I also lost my grip on where I was, what direction I’d been facing. It was as if he understood me.

That is new. I attempt to turn toward him, switching from my left hand on the wall to my right, but I tilt my head down instinctively. Looking down seems to be less awkward than guessing at height and looking up at a random angle. I can’t feel him anymore, because in the process of turning I stepped away. I want to say something to him, but I can’t tell if he is still there. If it was completely silent, I would listen for his breathing, but noise from outside is making it difficult.

I know this often makes people feel awkward, and as I mentioned before I’ve made mistakes (this is never a good idea when it’s a woman) but since he saved me from a fall I decide to give it a shot. I reach in what I hope is his direction, knowing that if I can’t touch him, he must have left. My hand brushes his sweatshirt in an instant, and I conclude that he hasn’t moved at all. Immediately I pull my hand away.

“Thank you.” I say this still looking down.

“You’re... welcome.” He sounds much less confident than he felt. I conclude that I’ve made him uncomfortable and nervous, as this is the normal reaction I get. People don’t know what to do with me, especially because I am often alone, and they don’t understand how I get around. They are never sure if they should help me or not, how they should treat me. It’s normal, but it still bothers me a little. I frown, or attempt it. I am not always aware of the expression on my face. It is hard to concentrate on that and everything else at once.

“Sorry.” I mumble, as if my existence puts me at fault. I know I talk like this, and people tell me not to, but I really don’t care what they say. People don’t like to be around me because I make them feel awkward. Therefore, I often apologize for it. If I could get away from them any faster I would.

I turn again, certain I am going in the right direction only because the wall is on my left side, and start walking. I am expecting him to simply leave, but I don’t hear his footsteps receding. I pause, wondering if he wants to say something to me.

“-wait.” The word comes out a little stuttered, as if he wanted to say it then got caught up watching me and my pause reminded him. It even sounds funny to me, since I’d already stopped before he said it. Obeying regardless, I simply wait. For a while we just stand there then, and I figure he is probably waiting too, for me to make some sort of response. I don’t see what good turning around would do, so I don’t. Since I declined to answer verbally originally, I don’t feel like doing it now, so we both stand there for a few more seconds until I’m sure we are both feeling quite awkward. Only when I decide to simply keep going does he suddenly speak up again.

“Umm, are you an orphan? Do you live here?” He sounds genuinely curious, though I can’t imagine why. This is a question I get a lot, as if people can’t figure why the hell I’m up for adoption instead of at a mental institute or physical therapy ward of some sort. As such, my response is a little rude, perhaps more than necessary.

“Isn’t that obvious? You don’t think I wandered in on accident, do you?” I’m still facing away from him, still looking down.

“Sorry.” He says abruptly, as if realizing his mistake. I want to see the expression on his face, but I can’t of course. That is always frustrating for me, wanting to see what people look like, how they react. I am cut off from the world of body language signals. I’ve never seen a smile-another thing people often don’t think about. There is more silence, and more waiting. I’m getting annoyed, but I also know he hasn’t moved other than to fidget, and I’m curious what he’s doing.

“Um… Do you… Are you busy?” I frown again. Busy? This is not what I expected him to say.

“Why?” I ask the floor, confused.

“It’s just um…” He chuckles lightly, and I can hear him fidget again. “I dunno. Want to talk? My parents are here somewhere, but I don’t really feel like… looking at kids with them.” It takes me a minute to consider this. For one thing, I now know his family is here to adopt, and just like everyone else they want a new little boy or girl. As soon as that thought crosses my mind I ask it aloud without thinking.

“Boy or girl?”

“What?” I sigh, slightly exasperated. He’s at a fucking orphanage. What else could I mean?

“Do they want a boy or a girl? Sister or brother?”

“Oh… I don’t know.” I process this and think back to his original comment. He wanted to know if I was busy, if we could talk? I know the answer-I’m not busy. What do I do in a day? Really? But do I want to talk to him… that’s different. “If… if you don’t feel like talking, that’s fine. I just thought… aren’t you a little bored here with all these kids?” That statement alone changes my mind. He isn’t treating me like a normal person, but I can’t really hold that against him. Still, he isn’t treating me like a kid either. I smile, maybe for the first time today.

“I am a little bored.” I agree. “I’m just headed to my room, but you can come if you want.” Once again I wish I could see his expression, but all I can do is listen for his voice and try to divine his emotions through that.

“Yeah, ok. If you don’t mind.” I shake my head no and can hear him walk toward me till he’s standing next to me. I start walking again automatically. I move around fairly quickly for someone who is blind, but still slower than everyone else. He doesn’t comment though, just walking beside me at my pace. I’m overwhelmed with curiosity suddenly.

“What do you look like?” I ask, still mostly focused on finding my room. There is something ironic about people needing a blind person’s help to get somewhere, but it actually makes me a little proud. I can give tours of the orphanage, though I’ve never seen any of it. It makes me feel useful, even if the ‘tourists’ just feel awkward. He isn’t like that though…

“What do I look like?” I can imagine him thinking about how to say it. It’s hard to describe ones looks. “Um, I’m tall I guess. But you… how tall are you?” I already know he’s taller, but it seems he wasn’t thinking about that before.

“Shorter than you are.” I supply him with an indirect answer, but it doesn’t seem to phase him.

“Yeah. Um… I’ve got black hair. Brown eyes…” I can tell he knows he’s not doing a very good job. He’s trying, but messing with him is amusing for me.

“What does brown look like?” This stumps him of course. For people who can see, brown is just brown. How do you describe it? Well I certainly can’t, but I only asked because I know it’s difficult.

“Um…” He’s trying again, and that must be the millionth time he’s said ‘um’. We reach the door to my room, I can tell because I’ve been counting the doors we’ve passed, and because it says my name in brail on it. I shake my head and open the door, guiding myself inside easily.

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t describe it, I know.” I wonder what his expression is again as I flop down on my bed, laying down so I can be more comfortable, my arms folded behind my head as I stare straight forward at the ceiling. “You can sit wherever.” He doesn’t answer, but I’m sure he nodded, forgetting I can’t see it.

“Brown is…” He starts and I sigh. He’s not honestly attempting this is he? “Brown… it’s warm. Or like fur… soft. I guess you can associate it with comfort?” He sounds hopeful, as if he’s wondering if he did a good job. I think about it for a minute, and actually I’ve never gotten that response before.

“Comfortable.” I repeat. Then I have an urge to say thanks or something else sentimental and mushy, so instead I hop topics completely. “How many siblings do you have?”

“None, it’s just me.”

“For now.” I offer.

“For now.” He agrees.

“So are you a biolog?” There is a pause following that statement, and I assume I’ve confused him again. I can hear the shift in his breathing as he opens his mouth to respond, so I cut in first. “A biolog. You know, a biological child? As opposed to an adopted one?” Another pause.

“Uh, yeah. I am.” I nod. I don’t know if he’s looking at me, but I don’t intend to ask. More silence follows. I contemplate asking why his parents are adopting now instead of just popping out another one. I am a little curious, but I know it is a rude question, and underneath my bitter attitude… I’m really happy he’s talking to me. It’s been a long time since I spoke to a guy my age, let alone spent time with one. To say that I have no real friends would not be a lie.

“So… I don’t want to sound rude, but if you don’t mind… how long have you been…?” I know what he’s trying to ask. He wants to know my sob story, for whatever reason, and he’s trying to put it lightly. I’m not angry at the question, because it really is inevitable, and I know it’s just honest curiosity. I sigh instead, mulling over possible responses.

“Long enough.” I eventually decide on. The silence lasts longer than the previous ones this time, but when he breaks it, his voice has changed slightly.

“What’s your name?” I blink, a little caught off guard.

“Junsu.” I wait a second then tack on, “Yours?”

“Park Yoochun.”

Where We're Going

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 06:31:21 GMT

Title: Where We're Going
Pairing: Yoosu
Genre: Angst, Romance?
Rating PG

Summary: Of all the seats on the Bart that he'd sat in, there was only one that he would always regret taking. It was on this car, and the minute he stepped inside he could see it was already occupied.

http://community.livejournal.com/yoosu_yongwonhi/836321.html

Tale of the Lighthouse

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 06:17:55 GMT

Title: Tale of the Lighthouse
Pairing: Yoosu, Yoochun x Zhang Li Yin
Genre: romance, angst
Warning: brief sexual reference
Disclaimer: I don't own them O_o
Summary: If anyone has read my oneshot Secret then they will kind of understand how I did this. It is based on the song The Lighthouse's Tale by Nickel Creek, which I highly reccomend you listen to after reading this. As with Secret, the lyrics are listed at the bottom. I hope this touches your heart.

Your steps echo off the stone walls as you slip down the stairs to your door, the firm brown wood still standing strong against the winds that blow around the lighthouse day in and day out, threatening to topple the structure into the rolling sea. Using both hands you swing the mighty door back, tugging on the iron door knob. You would not be surprised if what greeted you beyond it was simply a stray piece of drift wood or perhaps nothing at all, because it would not be the first time, but you’ve made it a habit to always answer the door, even on nights as rainy and unwelcoming as this one.

You are surprised when you peek your head around and are greeted not only by a steady wind that blows your loose t-shirt and sweats tight against your body, but also a stranger, and you feel your eyes widen a little, a smile creeping up your face. The stranger is drenched, but handsome despite the fact that his short black hair is plastered to his face. His eyes are dark, but warm like coffee, and his return smile is easy and comfortable. He shrugs his shoulders lightly, communicating more with body language than with words that he has no where else to go. You speak first.

“Need a place to stay?” It’s all the invitation he needs, and even in the dark his smile is bright. Later, when he’s warm and dry and sitting close to you on your couch, you notice that his coffee eyes match the soft coffee scent that clings to him, and the whole lighthouse warms with it. It isn’t until the next morning as you’re stretching next to him, both of you still on your couch, that you realize neither of you introduced yourselves.

“Kim Junsu.” You tell him, and the way he looks at you it’s as if he’d told you out loud that he thought it sounded beautiful.

“Yoochun. Just Yoochun.” You’re not surprised when he asks for coffee.

A week passed by, and when he made no indication that he would be leaving, it was wordlessly decided between you both that he’d be allowed to stay. You had no idea how he got there or where he came from, but it didn’t matter. He made himself useful, doing chores and trying to fix things, and he made everything he did entertaining, no matter how boring the task. One evening the two of you stood side by side next to the wall of the lighthouse, looking out over the cliff into the ocean with its waves crashing and pounding a rhythm against the rocks. You leaned a shoulder gently against the concrete of the lighthouse, body angled to accommodate the action as you turned your head to face him, admiring the dieing rays of sun as they played off the contours of his face. Beautiful.

“Why are you here?” You asked, watching him watch the waves.

“Hmm. Because you let me in.” He smiles and shoots a sideways glance at you, teasing. You laugh.

“Well what are you then? Roommate? Friend?” Something inside restrains you from adding lover to that list, but you know it hangs unsaid between you none the less. You like him, and he knows.

“How about this,” he says, turning his attention fully to you as he rests his forearm above your head, his sturdy form leaning over yours. He holds his head down so his face is close to yours, eyes looking straight into yours and you’re drowning in them. “I’ll be your keeper. Both of you.” And he nods his head toward the lighthouse behind you, its beacon stretching out far above you as it dips fingers of light into the darkening sky.

“Always?” You purse your lips slightly, daring him to promise you, though you don’t know why.

“Always.” He says, and you both turn, gazing out at the setting sun.

Aren’t you a bit young to be working at a lighthouse? Why do you stay here?

I don’t know. I guess I just found something of a home here.

Yeah.

What about you?

Hmmm... I always knew I’d be a wanderer. I have trouble being content in one place for long periods of time.

But you’re content here? At this, he laughed.

Maybe I found a home here too. There is a brief silence. Or maybe… it’s you.

The world is spinning around you as you run, him chasing after you uselessly, both of you laughing as he hurls brightly colored balloons full of water at your bare feet. The grass is cool and wet beneath you and both of you are soaked in places, the ultimate result of half an hours worth of intense water war. You had been working outside, trying to repair your old bike, when suddenly a blast of water had landed beside you, bits of red rubber from the ruptured balloon scattered around the wet earth.

“Yah!” But you were already laughing even as you turned to face him. “What are you...” He had brought two whole buckets filled with balloons out to where you were, and was juggling another, this one blue, in his hand. The smirk on his face was challenging but playful. Just like him to think of something like this. You weren’t even aware you’d had balloons. Later he’d explain to you- You didn’t. I… went out and bought them. It’s something I used to do with my brother… when I thought he was working too hard.

You have a brother?

Had. I left them… my family. I couldn’t have stayed, it was impossible for me. But if I were to regret it, it would be because of him. He’s the only one I felt bad about leaving, the only one I miss.

I’m sorry.

Finally he’s catching up to you, and you feel his last balloon collide with the back of your leg, just above the crease where your knee is. His arms wrap around you and you are both forced to the ground. You’re still laughing, but he’s just holding you now, his breathing coming out in short bursts as he lets his heart rate slow back down, aligning it with yours.

You lay together in the grass, you on your back and him with his head propped up with a hand. His other arm is still draped across your waist, and the stripe of warmth beneath it contrasting with your cooling body. It’s dusk now, and the wind is picking up slowly. You stare up at the sky, the vastness overwhelming, and then slowly your eyes are drawn to his, your head turning his direction. He’s staring at you, his eyes wide, curious, and every bit as vast as the sky. You sit up a little, body moving on its own as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth-light, nervous, questioning. His eyes close and he smiles.

The arm around you tightens.

He was wearing black that day, humming as he wandered around the house. He looked good in dark colors, it suited him. They never felt as cold and lonely when he wore them. You smiled to yourself as he made his way toward you, body swaying gently in time with his humming, till he was close enough to wind his arms around your waist, breathing against the back of your neck and making you sway with him. You had grown used to this, his need to touch and be close. He never stayed far from you, as if your mere presence gave him a sense of security. You lived for it now, because you found that by simply keeping him happy, you could be happy as well, and it was enough. His fingers tickled your sides and you pushed him away gently, laughing.

The ringing of the doorbell gave you a reason to escape. You made your way down the stairs, knowing he was following you. You were not expecting to see a young girl standing outside your door staring expectantly at you, but what was more surprising was that he seemed to know her. When he saw who it was he rushed past you, greeting her with a warm hug before lifting her small body into the air and spinning her around. You felt nervous, unsure of what this meant.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” He finally let her back down, his smile wide with contained excitement, and when he spoke he had eyes only for her. Then he turned and looked at you, but the look didn’t change, and that’s when you knew. You alone would never have been enough for him, and you’d need to learn to share, because he needed you both, whoever this new stranger was. You met the girl’s eyes, soft and gentle like velvet, and you could tell she also understood.

“This is Junsu. Junsu, this is my girlfriend, Zhang Li Yin.” She dipped her head politely toward you, and even you had to admit, she was beautiful too.

“Please, call me Lillian.” He was beaming like it was Christmas, and the feeling was contagious. You took a breath, gathering your jealousy, however little there was, your worries and your nerves, and blew them all out at once.

“Pleased to meet you.” The smile that graced your features was a real one.

Life living together the three of you was easier than you had expected. She won your friendship and your trust, and you were not surprised when suddenly it was the two of you ganging up against him. But he loved it like that, and he spent the months figuring out the best way to hold onto you without letting go of her.

Soon enough you found yourself once again watching the sunset, this time resting in the small field of grass down a short way from the lighthouse. She was curled up under his arm, letting him carry her weight and stealing body heat. You were settled on his other side, his hand clasped so firmly around yours that you couldn’t have pulled away if you’d tried. He had laced your fingers with his, determined to keep you close, and when you turned and leaned down, putting your head in his lap, she reached over to play with your hair as he moved your hands together to rest on your chest.

The thought absently struck you that he was a keeper for the three of you now. You, her, and that lighthouse, always there towering over you, guiding the ships with it’s light. You took in the scent of coffee from the jacket he wore and you both felt the rumble of his chest as he hummed softly in the darkness.

You remember the day well. You’d gone out, and when you came back the whole lighthouse felt damper, not as sturdy against the pounding winds as it usually was. It was the first time you had seen him that way, brow furrowed in worry and thought. He was holding her hand, rubbing the soft skin gently with his fingers, but you got the feeling it soothed him more than her. She was only watching him, watching and sorry.

“I have to go.”

“Oh.” And when he whispered, the pleading in his voice touched your heart.

“Please be safe.”

The sounds of the storm seemed to shake the entire building, down to the blocks of concrete, and you thought maybe the lighthouse was somehow connected to him. When he was happy, it welcomed any threat the ocean could give it, boldly standing guard atop the cliff that suspended it over the water. Now it seemed weakened, unsure, and you would do anything to soothe his worry and bring back that strength.

He was sitting on the couch, frowning, as he’d been doing for the past several days. His shoulders were tense, his eyes tired. You walked up behind him, placing a hand gently on hi shoulder. I’m here, the gesture told him. I’m here.

“Hey.” You spoke softly, voice gentle as if the sound of it might break him. His smile was as tired as his eyes when he responded.

“Hey.” His voice, so smooth and deep and calming most days, now sounded worn down for the first time since you’d met him.

“Yoochun…” You started, your eyes searching his.

“I’m afraid Junsu.” He stood up and walked around to face you, his hands shoved in his pockets, his own eyes searching too, needing something, needing you. “I’m so afraid.” He would never lie to you, but the painful honesty in that statement shook you like nothing else. Drowning out your own hesitation you reached your hands up to pull at his neck and pressed your lips together. He gave in easily, and when he kissed you it was as if you were giving him air to breath. You felt like his lifeline, and you kissed back deeply, giving as much as you could.

Your bed was beneath you before you’d realized you’d moved at all. His body moved over yours, and for the first time you really felt all of him. Every emotion he had, he poured into your mouth and into your body. All of his hurt, his love, his helplessness. All of his fear, and you took it away, the both of you riding out the storm with him riding inside of you.

You missed the splintering of wood under the crashing of the waves, the roaring ocean swallowing your cries.

That morning you woke up with him in your arms, you protecting him from a truth he didn’t want to know. The soft sun and lonely winds, gentle for once, caressed the lighthouse, much too still and much too quiet. You sat up, but your body felt heavy, because you knew. When he opened his eyes and looked up at you he only sighed, reaching to run his fingers across your cheek, his eyes tired but betraying little else.

Within the next hour he was down on the beach, standing in the broken body of a ship that might as well have been his own, each fractured piece of wood one of his bones and the girl his heart. You stood behind him, watching as he found her body and knelt beside it, the same hands that had held yours touching her face, gripping her hands, and you knew he was wishing he had never let her go. You couldn’t hear it, but he whispered to her then too. And his whisper was a promise. Always never really was.

He buried her along the beach, refusing to let you help him. It seemed the work of digging up sand and dirt kept him from breaking, so you let him, but his sadness could be felt for miles in the pull of the surf and the rocking of the shore.

Later that evening you let him sit alone, but you watched from the hallway as his shoulders shook and he put his head in his hands. You watched him crying, and it tore at your own heart, pulled tears from your own eyes. You remembered with a pain you’d never felt before, he needed you both.

You were asleep when he finally found the strength to stand again. His feat carried him to your room automatically, but he stopped at the door, pushing it open slowly but going no further. He couldn’t bear it to touch you now, because it would shake the confidence he’d worked so hard to build up the last few hours.

You anchored him better than any anchor had ever held a ship, no matter how wild the seas, no matter how lost he was, but it was impossible to anchor a broken vessel, impossible to anchor a ship without a heart.

“Thank you, Junsu.” For trying. For everything. It was a whisper, words that you would never hear, but it held so much more than the meaning of just those words.

The tear stains on his cheeks did not refresh themselves as he stood there watching you sleep, watching you breath, because when he’d cried before he’d been crying for you both. He might have stood there for hours, he didn’t know, but when he finally moved away, pulling the door shut once again behind him, he knew it was the last time, and he had burned the image of you into his mind.

Thank you.

The next morning was even more quiet, and the lonely lighthouse no longer had the life it had harbored over the previous year. It was no longer weak, no longer strong, only a lighthouse. His room was empty, and when you made coffee that morning and left it on the counter it sat untouched until it was cold, the flavor long gone.

Taking the stairs you walked to the very top of the building, stopping only when you could walk out on the balcony that surrounded the grand guiding light it held. You leaned on the railing, the wind pulling your clothes and pressing them to your body as you watched the day fade.

He had blown into your life with the wind, but deep inside you knew he’d flown out with the waves. You could only hope that his body would be claimed by the sea, because you don’t want to find it the way he found hers. You know you’ll still look.

As you stand there alone, you can still remember the first time you saw him-standing there outside your door with rainwater running down his face and an easy smile lighting the darkness.

And his eyes deep and warm like coffee.

I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.

I keep my lamp lit, to warn the sailors on their way.

I’ll tell a story, paint you a picture from my past.

I was so happy, but joy in this life seldom lasts.

I had a keeper, he helped me warn the ships at sea.

We had grown closer, ‘till his joy meant everything to me.

And he was to marry, a girl who shone with beauty and light.

And they loved each other, and with me watched the sunsets into night.

And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.

And the winds that blow remind me, of what has been, and what can never be.

She’d had to leave us, my keeper he prayed for a safe return.

But when the night came, the weather to a raging storm had turned.

He watched her ship fight, but in vain against the wild and terrible wind.

In me so helpless, as dashed against the rock she met her end.

And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.

And the winds that blow remind me, of what has been, and what can never be.

Then on the next day, my keeper found her washed up on the shore.

He kissed her cold face, that they’d be together soon he’d swore.

I saw him crying, watched as he buried her in the sand.

And then he climbed my tower, and off of the edge of me he ran.

And the waves crashing around me, the sand slips out to sea.

And the winds that blow remind me, of what has been, and what can never be.

I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.

And though I am empty, I still warn the sailors on their way.

(I used Zhang Li Yin because I didn't want to use someone I didn't like, so I'm sorry if the pairing felt weird to you. I also had her tell Junsu to call her Lillian because I wasn't sure if her name would be mentioned later and I didn't really want to use her actual one. I did not say her name anywhere else, so it doesn't really matter, but I left it in anyway. If it was confusing, Zhang Li Yin had to take a trip. She had been planning on returning, but her boat crashed and sank, and she died. I'm sure what happened to Yoochun was obvious, but the song will clarify it. I know I was supposed to update Dealing With Eve today, but I heard this song and needed to write this. Dealing With Eve will be updated tomorrow. Please comment. I hope this had the emotional pull I wanted it to.)

Dealing with Eve [revised]

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 23:59:01 GMT

Title: Dealing with Eve
Chapter: 5/?
Genre: romance, a little angst, humor maybe? fluff
Pairing/s: Yoosu, (there will be some Jaeho scattered throughout various chapters)
Rating: all over the place, but mostly PG 13
Warnings: none for this chapter
Disclaimer: i don't own them. O_o
Summary: Yoochun's habit of being the 'nice guy' gets him in trouble when he invites Boa, a disowned college drop-out, to take up the extra third room in the apartment he shares with his close friend Yunho. Boa desperately wants enough money to move herself out of the city and away from her family, and she is willing to do anything to get it. Can Yoochun handle the consequences?

[Note: It didn't take me a month this time! Woo!]

“Uncle Min! Can we go get ice cream?” Changmin looked over from his computer to where Inhwan sat in the middle of his bedroom floor, absently playing with a set of colored blocks. He sighed and shook his head. Yoochun told him not to let the boy have too many sweets, but he’d been begging for ice cream since early that morning.

“Peeeeeease!”

“Inhwan why don’t you wait and ask Appa later, huh?”

“But Uncle Minniieeee~ Why can’t you take me?” Changmin rubbed his forehead. Why had he agreed to this again? Oh yeah, only because he’d already been doing it for three years and Yoochun treated him to dinner once a week. Right. Oh and supposedly they were good friends, and friends obviously take care of each others children. That too.

“Peeeeeeeeeeeease!”

“Alright! Ice cream!” Changmin stood up and swept Inhwan off the floor, carrying the boy sideways out towards the front of his apartment, the young boy giggling and squirming the whole way. Once Inhwan’s need for ice cream had been sated, the two walked along the street, Inhwan leading as he stared into random stores giggling and pointing out random things and saying stuff like:

“Uncle Min, why’s that woman so fat?”

“She’s not fat Inhwan, she’s pregnant.”

“Oh… what’s pregnant?”

“Ask your Appa.”

“Is it bad?”

“No.”

“It looks funny.”

“That’s not nice Inhwan.”

“Are a lot of people pregnant?”

“Sort of.”

“Have you ever been pregnant?” At this Changmin began coughing semi-violently.

“Ah, no I haven’t Inhwan. Guys don’t get pregnant ok?” But Inhwan was no longer listening. Instead a new store had caught his attention. Skipping up to the front he pressed his tiny hands against the window and peered in, scrunching up his nose playfully as he smushed it against the glass. Sighing Changmin reached forward to pull him back a step.

“Don’t do that Inhwan, it’s dirty.” Honestly, what was Yoochun teaching this kid?

“Let’s go in!” The little boy tugged his arm away from Changmin and marched through the door while Changmin hesitated. It was a book store. How much fun could a three year old have in a book store? Could the kid even read? He highly doubted it. On the other hand… there was a book he’d been meaning to get… He followed after the little boy, slightly curious as to why a bookstore of all places had caught the kid’s attention. For a few minutes Inhwan wandered around the kid’s section, picking up books and carrying them for a few seconds before putting them anywhere close- floor, table, some random pile of other books. Changmin shook his head as he followed, dutifully picking up each book and putting it back before getting the next one and repeating the process. Inhwan finally turned away from the kids section, passing sticker books and calendars until he reached the section for Manga and Manhwa.

Changmin followed, hands in his pockets. Inhwan paused, looking around at the various colorful covers, two fingers absently stuck in his mouth. Suddenly he randomly approached a shelf, reaching for one of the mangas.

“Uncle Min look at this!” Changmin’s eyes widened as he read the title. Love Mode. Definite no no. Leaning forward quickly he pushed the manga back onto the shelf and steered Inhwan away from it. How many awkward situations was the kid determined to put him in? While he was at least semi-willing to answer questions about being pregnant he was in no way going to discus Yaoi manga with the little boy.

“Umm, not that one Inhwan. Why don’t we look at something else.” He sighed gratefully when Inhwan didn’t seem to mind, instead tottering off toward another section of the store. Eventually he pulled another book off the shelf, this one a sci-fi fiction novel about space travel. It was a large book, much too big for the young boy to read but he pulled it open anyway, flipping to a page in the middle and dutifully looking like he was reading it, his small face scrunched up in a look of deep concentration. The book was upside down. Changmin smiled. Alright even he had to admit, that was pretty cute.

“What you got there, Inhwan?”

“Book.” The boy didn’t even look up.

“Oh, want me to read a little to you?”

“I can wead it.” He replied confidently. Changmin smiled. Of course he can read. All well respected three year olds can. Upside down and everything. It’s a refined skill. Duh.

“What’s it say?” At this comment Inhwan finally glanced up, smirking deviously as he pulled the book up in front of his face so that only his eyes peeked over the top of it, gazing out from behind his short dark bangs. Changmin stared back and Inhwan giggled. There was a pause and then the book was shoved toward Changmin.

“You read it and find out. I’m not telling.” More giggles ensued after this response. Changmin picked up the book, nodding seriously, and sat down with his back leaned up against one of the shelves, book open to the first page and right side up this time. He began to read silently, well aware that Inhwan was watching him. After a minute Inhwan pulled at his arm, moving it out of the way so that he could climb into Changmin’s lap. Sitting down he leaned back, staring at the page while Changmin continued to read silently, a smirk on his face. Another minute passed and Inhwan couldn’t contain himself anymore. He reached out and whacked the open book twice with both hands.

“Wead it out loud~!”

“But I thought you said you already read it? Why would you want to hear it again?” Inhwan pouted crossing his arms.

“I need to see if you made a lots of mistakes.” The little boy said seriously. Changmin laughed, but started again at the beginning of the page, this time reading out loud. Maybe baby sitting wasn’t that bad.

Yoochun glanced down at his watch as he packed up his things. He’d finished work early today, a surprise he hadn’t been expecting. He’d told Changmin he’d need most of the evening, but now he found himself with a couple hours to spare. When he was finished packing up he paused, gazing down at his bag without really looking at it, a thoughtful look on his face. He could go pick up Inhwan early, and he probably would, but first… Yoochun smiled. First he had somewhere else to go.

Yoochun dropped his bag next to the big, wooden piano bench as he sat down, getting comfortable. He hadn’t had the time to go to the music store in ages, and it felt good to be sitting there again. The store was almost always empty, and since the piano bench faced away from the big glass window that stood between him and the street, he could almost pretend the room was his own private studio. Without looking for sheet music he pushed back the cover that shielded the keys.

In the far corner of the store the owner and sole sales clerk watched him, listening as he let his fingers brush over the keys. He found a random melody and moved from random notes into a song without missing a beat, his hands almost floating as they worked their magic on the instrument. He had always loved playing piano. It made him feel calm, let him get out his emotions. He’d missed it.

It didn’t take long for Yoochun to get lost in his own world, his eyes closed as he played simply through memory and sense of touch. He ignored everything else- the sounds of the cars and people on the street, of the shop door opening, the owner greeting a customer, answering questions… When he finally stopped and looked up only to see Junsu standing behind the piano watching him it surprised him so much he fell backward.

Junsu, who had been smiling contentedly before, began laughing uncontrollably, the sound rolling out in beautiful waves. Yoochun groaned from the floor, but it was more from embarrassment than pain. He threw an arm over his eyes until he too was laughing. Junsu walked around to help him up, grabbing hold of his hand firmly and pulling him to his feet. Yoochun’s smile couldn’t have been wider if he’d tried. As they stood eye to eye, Junsu’s hand still holding Yoochun’s, a strange feeling settled over both of them. Junsu blushed and pulled his hand away, Yoochun just smiling wider and squeezing gently as Junsu’s hand slipped away from his.

“Sorry about that. I just saw you playing and… I didn’t want to disturb you. It was really beautiful.” Junsu fiddled with his sleeve, still chuckling a little.

“It’s alright. I really should pay a little more attention.” Yoochun bent down to straighten out the piano bench before pulling the cover back over the brilliant black and white keys. “Do you come here often?” He realized too late that it sounded like a pick up line, but simply smiled through it. He was curious. Junsu nodded.

“Not that often, but every once in a while.”

“Do you play an instrument?” At this Junsu shook his head, biting his lip a little nervously. Yoochun noticed the gesture, intrigued by Junsu’s normal, every day personality. True, they’d met outside of the daycare before, but not without Inhwan.

“No… I sing.” Yoochun raised his eyebrow at this, a little surprised.

“Really?” Junsu blushed immediately.

“Just for fun, not in front of people or anything.” Yoochun smiled, nodding, though he was impossibly curious what Junsu sounded like singing.

“Guys? Sorry but it’s time to close this place up. I’m gonna have to kick you out now.” Yoochun smiled, thanking the owner, and led the way back out onto the street. It was growing dark now, and a little cold. He turned as Junsu stepped out the door after him.

“So did you drive here?” Junsu shivered a little, rubbing his arms. He was wearing only a short sleeve shirt, and now he regretted not bringing a jacket.

“No, I walked. My apartment isn’t that far.”

“Really? Where is it?”

“Umm, just a few blocks down. Haye street?” The question in his voice seemed to be asking if Yoochun knew the place, and he did. A few blocks? It was more like 12. Too far when the man didn’t even have a jacket. Yoochun shook his head.

“You shouldn’t walk when it’s this cold out. Come with me, I’ll drive you.” Junsu instantly shook his head.

“No, it’s ok. I do it all the time really. I don’t want-“ Yoochun would have none of it. He wouldn’t have let… Boa walk that far like this. There was no way he’d let Junsu.

“Junsu shi, it’s too cold. It’s on the way for me anyway. I don’t mind, honestly.” He looked Junsu in the eye, both waiting in silence for a minute while Junsu debated with himself. It wasn’t really an issue of trust. There was just something about Yoochun that made him feel comfortable. He knew he could trust him. On the other hand, he highly doubted Yoochun was telling the truth when he said it was on the way. Junsu lived closer to the outside of the city, which brought him to another reason why he felt this was a bad idea. The area he lived in was somewhat… less than desirable. He fidgeted, unable to look away from Yoochun’s patient gaze. After another minute of pointless inner debate, he gave in, nodding.

“Alright. If it really isn’t a problem.” Yoochun smiled instantly, waving for Junsu to follow him.

Yoochun opens the door automatically, waiting for Junsu to slide past him, and they both blush just a little at the gesture. When they’ve been driving a minute or so, Junsu suddenly remembers their conversation from the ice cream shop a week ago.

“Yoochun shi… you’d said you wanted… to get together and talk about Inhwan?” He glances over at Yoochun who’s eyes are appropriately fixed to the road. Yoochun’s eyes widen a little.

“Oh, yeah I did. Sorry I completely forgot to call.” Or… I was too nervous. Something like that. “Why, you’re going to be more busy now?” Junsu shook his head.

“No… I was just curious when you wanted to get together.” Junsu knows this feels more like he’s asking for a date than to give out ‘how to be a successful single parent’ advice. Yoochun pauses, thinking.

“Well, I have work all this week… Maybe on Saturday? Does that work?” Yoochun sends a questioning look his direction briefly. Junsu runs his hand through his hair absently.

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. Where..?”

“You can come over to my apartment if you like. If you don’t mind, I mean.” Junsu nods, and Yoochun starts humming, his voice deep and soft. His apartment. Ok. He realizes they’ve reached his street already, and suddenly he doesn’t want to get out. For a second he almost gives Yoochun the wrong address, just to prolong the ride a little. He leans back further into his seat, soaking up the warmth from the car, but points toward a house ahead of them. Yoochun pulls the car smoothly over to the side.

When they stop Yoochun leans past him, rooting through the glove box until he finds a piece of paper and a pen. Junsu swears he can feel the centimeter of space still between them as if it was a tangible substance. Yoochun pulls back, pen and paper in hand, and scribbles something down. His writing is legible, though barely, and Junsu smiles.

“My address.” Yoochun explains, handing the paper over. “And my number. I work until 5:00 on Saturday, but any time after that is fine. Just give me a call first so I know you’re on your way.” Junsu nods again, taking the paper and hesitating maybe a second too long before he pushes the door open and steps out onto the street.

“I guess I’ll… see you then.” Yoochun smiles like the news has made his day. Junsu can’t help but smile back. As Yoochun drives away, thoughts of their brief encounter filling his mind completely, he doesn’t notice the car parked just one house further down, a car that was his once, before it disappeared along with a certain woman.

He is five minutes late picking Inhwan up.

As Yoochun opened the unlocked door to Changmin’s apartment Inhwan leaped up off the floor and toward him, throwing his small arms out and wrapping them tightly around his legs.

“Hiiiii~ Appa!” Yoochun smiled and tussled the boy’s hair gently.

“Hey, did you and Uncle Min have a good time?” Inhwan nodded, face pressed against his Appa’s legs, ‘hiding’. Changmin approached, holding out the space book they’d read at the bookstore earlier. Inhwan had, after much whining and very persuasive arguing-But Appa needs to wead it too!-convinced Changmin to buy it for them.

“Here. We picked it up at the bookstore. Made it to chapter two.” Yoochun nodded, tucking the book under his arm after glancing briefly over the title. He knew Inhwan was prone to becoming interested in random things.

“Thanks for watching him for me today, you know I really appreciate it.”

“Well you really owe me dinner.” Changmin smiled despite his words, the whole thing wasn’t nearly as unbearable as he made it sound. “Inhwan helped me with my homework today. There’s no telling what grade I’ll get on it. When I flunk out of grad school I at least expect to be well fed.” Yoochun chuckled. Suddenly Inhwan looked up, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Appa what’s pregnant?”

“Hmm, what? Pregnant?” He looked up, eyes meeting Changmin’s. The younger man shook his head. Don’t ask.

-end of chapter 5-

(alright! so I finally got Changmin in there. he'll show up more often now too. more of cute Inhwan, because I can. and sorry the yoosu is still lagging. they had their first almost-date, but neither of them really get it yet, so yes you have to endure another almost date next chapter, but i promise its building up to something. a not-really-important thing i feel like pointing out: junsu now knows that yoochun has an extra room (unused by him for obvious reasons that junsu does not yet know). no, Boa is obviously not in this chapter, but she will show up again. it just might take a little while, not that anyone's complaining. anyway, hope you liked it enough to keep reading and being patient! if i get lots of comments i might just have the energy to post another chapter in the next three days. *gets shot for bribeing* but really i just want to know if i have any silent readers. i'd like to hear from them if i do, even a simple hello is nice! comments are love. inhwan is cute. will update when i can!)

Dealing with Eve [revised]

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 14:38:03 GMT

Title: Dealing with Eve
Chapter: 4/?
Genre: romance, angst, humor maybe? fluff
Pairing/s: Yoosu, (there will be some Jaeho scattered throughout various chapters)
Rating: mostly PG 13, though I would say E (for everyone!) on this chapter
Warnings: none for this chapter
Disclaimer: i don't own them. O_o
Summary: Yoochun's habit of being the 'nice guy' gets him in trouble when he invites Boa, a disowned college drop-out, to take up the extra third room in the apartment he shares with his close friend Yunho. Boa desperately wants enough money to move herself out of the city and away from her family, and she is willing to do anything to get it. Can Yoochun handle the consequences?

[Note: ok so I've been on vacation (well not really, more like college tour) but here and there I've had a little free time and I had an idea for this chapter that I really wanted to write, so here it is. Given that, the chapter itself is kind of a -bleh- chapter, simply because not much happens. It's back to the length I usually do, so not very long either, but it's cute and fluffy and mostly focus' on Inhwan's relationship with yoosu (well yoochun and junsu respectively). i hope it makes you smile in the very least. -shutting up now-]

"Parky, parky, parky..." Inhwan smiled brightly as he skipped ahead of Yoochun to the gate of a small neighborhood park. It was empty today, as most children in the area were busy with Sunday church. Yoochun himself had never been really committed to religion, and as a result Inhwan knew almost nothing about it. In the very least it gave them some privacy-Inhwan getting lost in a crowd of people was one of Yoochun's greatest fears. He reached out to open the gate while Inhwan, still too short to reach the handle, waited patiently below him. As soon as the gate was open the little three-year-old hop-skipped forward again, heading for the small, plastic, brightly colored structure.

"Watch me go down the slide, Appa!" Inhwan called out, heading for the entrance to the big red slide. Yoochun wandered over to one of the benches set up surrounding the playground and sat down in view of the end of the slide. He watched Inhwan slide down it several times, giggling and smiling before running quickly back around to do it again as if it were the most entertaining thing on earth. Finally Inhwan seemed to tire of this and moved on to explore the rest of the park.

"Swings! Swings!" Yoochun smiled and walked over to the swing set where Inhwan stood, tiny hands wrapped around the metal supports as he jumped up and down, suddenly impatient.

"Alright, alright. Hang on, you want Appa to push you?" Yoochun carefully lifted Inhwan up into the seat, then started to push the swing gently back and forth.

"Faster! Faster!" Inhwan bounced and kicked his legs, not realizing this was making it more difficult. Yoochun shook his head, visions of Inhwan falling out of the swing making him hesitate.

"Ok, but not too much faster alright?" Within a few minutes Inhwan was squirming, ready to move on to the next thing.

"Appa stop!" Obediently Yoochun pulled the swing to a stop and watched Inhwan climb out of it, dangling his feet down and kicking a little as he tried to reach the ground before letting himself drop the remaining few inches. He landed and stumbled backward into a sitting position, and Yoochun felt himself tense up, but instead of crying Inhwan simply let out an almost silent 'woops' before pushing himself up and wandering away toward whatever else had caught his attention. Yoochun sighed and moved to follow after his son, but stopped when Inhwan turned and gave him a devious look. He returned the look, and watched as Inhwan took a few steps forward, then spun around to look at him. This was build up to a game of chase, that much Yoochun knew.

Each time Inhwan walked forward, Yoochun would take a few steps, then stop and pretend to not be paying attention. Finally Inhwan broke into a run, or his three-year-old attempt at a run, and Yoochun pretended to have a hard time chasing after him, following the boy in circles around the park. This continued, Inhwan hiding behind various parts of the play structure and making faces and laughing, until he suddenly tripped. He sat up, but remained on the ground, one hand cradled in the other as tears immediately started to build in his eyes.

"Appaaaaa... it huuuurts." He whined. Yoochun was at his side in an instant, frantically wondering how badly a child could hurt himself after tripping.

"Inhwan are you ok? Where does it hurt? Here, show me where it hurts." Inhwan pouted, not quite yet crying but almost, and used his left arm to hold up his right, as if the entire arm had become useless. In reality, he'd simply landed funny on one finger and bruised it.

"My finger." He said, still pouting. "I think I broked it." Yoochun looked at Inhwan's finger and let out a sigh of relief, remembering what Jaejoong had told him. 'Kids like to make a big deal out of little things to get attention. Don't worry about little cuts and scrapes, every kid gets them, just wait till he calms down and give him a Band-Aid, he'll be fine.' Right.

"It's ok Inhwan, I don't think you broked it." Inhwan looked like he was about to protest, but instead his face lit up and he leapt to his feet, having noticed a familiar figure nearby, watching them.

"Umma! Umma!" The little boy ran back to the park's gate, jumping up and down until he could reach the handle before making his way quickly over to his teacher. He seemed to have instantly forgotten his moment of pain, but held up his injury proudly for the other man to see. "Look Umma, I made a booboo." Junsu smiled as the young boy approached him but immediately set his face into a look of deep concentration, as if he was taking the whole situation very seriously.

"You made a booboo? That's not good Inhwan. Did you go see the doctor?" He took the boy's small chubby hand in his own and examined the injured appendage. Inhwan shook his head, still smiling.

"Nope. Appa says I didn't broked it." Junsu nodded smiling and looked up to nod a greeting to Yoochun as well, who had made his way somewhat more slowly out of the park and stood watching them, a content smile on his face. Something seemed to occur to Inhwan in that moment.

"Umma, umma! Can I have a Band-Aid?" Junsu looked back down.

"Oh Inhwan, I don't think you need a Band-Aid for that. Look you don't even have a cut, see?" At this Inhwan started to pout again.

"But I want a Band-Aid. What if Appa is wrong and I really did broked it? Peeease?" Junsu shook his head but started to search through his coat pockets, looking for the small box of colored Band-Aids he usually brought to work with him. The kids liked to wear them sometimes, even if they weren't actually hurt. He frowned a little when he couldn't find the box, thinking he must have left it at home.

"I don't know if I have any with me..."

"Peeeease Umma? Peeeease?" Junsu laughed a little at this.

"Inhwan its 'please', not 'pease'." The little boy didn't miss a beat.

"Pleeease?"

"Well... ah, here we go." He didn't have the box, but he did have three extras tucked away in a pocket. "Which one do you want?" He held them up for Inhwan to ponder over, meanwhile smiling apologetically at Yoochun. He didn't mean to be such a distraction from their 'bonding time'. He knew it was important for single parents.

"This one! This one!" Inhwan announced finally, holding out his finger again so that Junsu could put the colored bandage on for him. He'd chosen a red one decorated with Dalmatian puppies. Junsu put the others away and pulled off the plastic tabs, hovering the Band-Aid over Inhwan's finger.

"Right here?" Inhwan nodded and Junsu knelt down, wrapping the Band-Aid around carefully. "There, all better." He started to stand but Inhwan stopped him.

"Umma wait! You halfta kiss it." At this Junsu quirked an eyebrow, confused.

"You want me to kiss it?" Inhwan sighed, exasperated, and Junsu thought it was quite possibly the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. Probably a habit the boy picked up from being around someone else, his father maybe?

"You’ve got to kiss it better." Inhwan explained, as if that said everything. Junsu looked to Yoochun for further explanation. The man smiled awkwardly.

"I... My mom used to do it for me when I was little, so I just thought... Well it seems like it helps so..." Despite his brief embarrassment, Yoochun was beaming internally. There was nothing he enjoyed more then someone else enjoying his son, especially when it made said little boy happy. Junsu smiled, nodding in understanding. How cute, he thought absently. Leaning forward he pressed a soft kiss to the boys finger right on top of the Band-Aid.

"There all better." Inhwan beamed and Junsu stood back up. "I'll see you on Monday ok?" He ruffled Inhwan’s hair with a hand gently before nodding a goodbye to Yoochun and starting to turn away. As Yoochun watched he suddenly really didn’t want the other to leave, and before he could stop himself he impulsively called out to the young teacher.

"Junsu shi!" Junsu turned around, an expectant look on his face.

"Hmm?" Yoochun blushed faintly. He wanted… well he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

"Ah... well... I just…” He blushed as he fumbled with his words, wondering why on earth he’d even bothered to open his mouth. Why don’t you hang out with us? How stupid did that sound? Where had his courage disappeared to? Or charms for that matter? Junsu would just want to know why and then… well Yoochun had no idea why. He quickly tried to think of something appropriate to save him from having to endure another embarrassing moment. “Umm…Thank y-"

"Appa, Appa look! Ice cweam! Can we get some? Pease?" Inhwan tugged at his father's sleeve, pointing across the street at an ice cream shop that had caught his attention. The boy's eyes darted briefly in Junsu's direction, and he quickly amended. "Please?" Yoochun hesitated.

"I guess it's ok..." Instantly a huge grin spread across his son's face.

"And Umma will come too, right?" Inhwan turned his attention to the other man, not even considering that the answer might be 'no'. In his little mind, this was a statement, not a question. Junsu smiled, but debated with himself internally. He really shouldn't be interrupting their time together, since he knew Yoochun was busy a lot of the time anyway, and even though he was missing church today to run errands, it would probably be better if he went home and got some work done, but... for some reason he knew he wanted to stay. He liked Yoochun, the man tried hard to provide for his son, and he was… cute, warm. He made people feel comfortable. Junsu looked up and watched Yoochun shrug.

"Ice cream?" The other questioned, a slightly hopeful look on his face. Junsu studied the man's face for a minute. He really seemed like a good, honest guy. A good father. Oh well, Junsu thought, he did like sweets.

"Alright, but we have to make it quick ok?" Junsu directed his answer to Inhwan, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. Inhwan turned around immediately, headed toward the other end of the street, pulling his father along by the hand. As Junsu came to walk beside the two of them, he reached out and grabbed the other man's hand as well.

"Umma an Appa getting me ice cweam!" He called out in a cute, childish voice, swinging his little arms as he went. Both men blushed, looking anywhere but at each other, Junsu straight ahead, Yoochun at the ground.

"Inhwan, you shouldn't call a man Umma ok? It's disrespectful." Through his embarrassment, Yoochun was secretly pleased that Junsu had agreed to come, even if that meant he did have put up with Inhwan’s apparent issue with gender confusion. Inhwan didn't seem to understand the significance of his Appa’s statement. He simply smiled up innocently at his father.

"Appa and appa then?" Yoochun didn't know what to say to that.

--

The ice cream shop was fairly empty of people, just as the park had been. They all got ice cream, and Yoochun refused to let Junsu pay, giving the excuse that Junsu was already taking time out of his day to go with them and shouldn’t have to pay for it. Yoochun had initially ordered a small cup of chocolate ice cream, but ended up giving it to Inhwan when the young boy accidentally spilled his own. After cleaning up the mess with the ‘way too small’ napkins they had he sat across from Junsu, with Inhwan happily downing chocolate next to him. Junsu slowly licked away at his own cone of vanilla, his eyes seemingly stuck on the young man across from him.

“Do you always take him out with you on the weekends?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah most of the time. It’s good right? I just worry sometimes that maybe he doesn’t have enough fun or get to do as much as other kids. Plus I don’t usually have work on the weekends… Anyway he seems to enjoy himself.” Yoochun smiled, as he always did when he was talking about his son. Junsu nodded, glancing at the boy whose face was now creatively decorated with varying amounts of chocolate.

“Oh, I was wondering…” Yoochun started, suddenly thoughtful. Junsu looked up.

“Hmmm?”

“Well you seem to be pretty good with kids. I had some questions about some stuff that Inhwan’s been doing, but Jaejoong shi’s been pretty busy and I really don’t want to bother him about it…” He hesitated, biting his lip a little. “Maybe… could we get together some time and talk about it? I’d really appreciate the help. I’m not very good at this ‘dad’ thing.” Yoochun admitted, smiling hopefully. Junsu wasn’t sure why, but it made him more happy than it should have to think that Yoochun would trust his advice.

“Oh sure. When do you want to meet? Obviously I’m busy during the week, but I get off work around five most days…” He turned and began to rummage through his pockets. Finding a pen, he reached for one of the left over napkins and penned down his cell phone number in much the same way that Jaejoong had done when he’d first met Yoochun. Once finished, he slid the napkin across to Yoochun. “Here’s my number. Go ahead and call me whenever you like.” It took Yoochun a couple seconds to respond, because he’d suddenly gotten distracted, watching the other man. Finally he snapped out of it and shook his head a little, bringing his attention back.

“What? Oh, thanks.” Junsu smiled, and there was nothing Yoochun could do but smile back. He knew he was stretching the truth a bit, he really didn’t have many specific questions about Inhwan, though he could use any help he could get, but it would be nice to know that if he needed something Junsu would be available.

“Sure. Just give me a call.”

-end chapter 4-

(alright yea, so you kind of have to squint for the yoosu, but it's getting there! i promise more of them and less focus on Inhwan, but come on people he's so adorable i just couldn't resist. i've also altered the plot for this just a little, and i'm sorry to announce that Boa will be returning to make everyone that much more angry later, but there will be a few chapters of fluffy romance before that. and jaeho will probably show up briefly a few more times as well. hope you liked it! im trying to get back on top of updating, but i can't make any promises that you won't have to wait months for the next chapter. thanks for bearing with me! comments make the world go round!)

Dealing with Eve [revised]

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 01:17:15 GMT

Title: Dealing with Eve
Chapter: 3/?
Genre: romance, angst, humor maybe? there will be fluff in later chapters so hang in there
Pairing/s: Yoosu, Jaeho (this chapter concludes the Boachun *cheers*)
Rating: mostly PG 13 (birth of a baby anyone?)
Warnings: this is primarily a yoosu fic. if you are a fan of Boa, this probably isn't for you. some language
Disclaimer: i don't own them. O_o the one and only religious reference in this fic is to how Eve was tempted to sin and got Adam in trouble, picture Boa as Eve and it should eventually make sense (this explains the title and that's pretty much it, has nothing to do with the fic really)
Summary: Yoochun's habit of being the 'nice guy' gets him in trouble when he invites Boa, a disowned college drop-out, to take up the extra third room in the apartment he shares with his close friend Yunho. Boa desperately wants enough money to move herself out of the city and away from her family, and she is willing to do anything to get it. Can Yoochun handle the consequences?

[Note: I'm back! Yes, I know, it feels like I let this die kinda, but I promise to finish this one even if it kills me. I know I promised Yoosu would at least meet in this chapter, so I just kept writing till I got there. As a result, it's about twice as long as the previous chapters.]

“So where do you live?” Yunho replaced his drink on the counter, for once enjoying being served at a bar instead of working it. He was surprised to have run into a familiar face. Jaejoong looked almost exactly as he remembered him, bold, confident, and strikingly attractive for a man. It was driving him crazy. “I mean I’m not asking for your address or anything, I just meant what part of town?” He wanted to kick himself for sounding so stupid, but he wasn’t really used to being social because he spent so much of his time working. Besides, it had been nearly four months since he’d seen the man. He was surprised Jaejoong even remembered him.

“I rent an apartment not far from my work, the daycare remember?” Jaejoong laughed a little at Yunho’s obvious lack of comfort with conversation, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth briefly. “And you? Where does the highly respected Bartender live?” Yunho smiled.

“Downtown. I just moved a few weeks ago. I had been sharing an apartment with a college friend of mine, but things were getting a little… crowded. It brought me closer to my own work though, and since my boss upped my pay it’s been easy to keep up with rent.” Jaejoong nodded, letting this information sink in. A new song started up and people rearranged themselves on the dance floor. It was a popular tune. Jaejoong smiled and indicated the dance floor with a tilt of his head.

“Wanna dance?” Yunho followed the other mans gaze, watching the people move to the beat, bodies undulating against each other in the cramped space. He shook his head.

“It’s alright.” At this Jaejoong stuck out his lip in a playful pout.

“Oh come on. I know you had your eyes on me last time. What, the uptight office worker can’t dance? Surely your time as a bartender has taught you something.” Yunho allowed an indignant look to pass over his features.

“I can dance very well actually.” Jaejoong raised his eyebrows.

“Well then?” For a moment Yunho allowed himself to maintain his offended look, and then he exchanged it for subtle embarrassment.

“Well, I used to dance well. To be honest I haven’t really been on a dance floor since high school.” Jaejoong shook his head, standing, and took Yunho by the hands, pulling him out of his chair at the bar and dragging him slowly toward the crowd.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. It’ll be fun. You’ve got to loosen up a bit.” Yunho glanced down at their hands, shockingly aware of Jaejoong’s thin fingers wrapped around his. He smiled nervously but allowed himself to be dragged forward until they were surrounded by the mass of moving bodies. Letting himself adjust to the beat, he attempted to remember how to do what his teenage self had done so well.

Silence. There should have been sound, but at first there wasn’t. Then there was a soft intake of breath, and suddenly… SCREAM! Yoochun stared in amazement as the doctor lifted up the screaming infant. His first thought was ‘god damn it’s got a good set of lungs’. His second thought, a little more life altering, ‘Oh my god. I’m… a father.’ He stood next to the special hospital bed, frozen to the floor it seemed, as the baby was handed to a nurse who proceeded to check it over and dry it off carefully before wrapping it in a generic blue hospital blanket. The nurse brought the child over to Boa first, but she shook her head and waved the woman off so the nurse turned to Yoochun instead.

“He’s a strong, healthy boy. Would you like to hold him?” Yoochun was at that moment speechless, but he held his arms out dumbly and watched as the still shrieking baby was handed over to him.

“Congratulations.” The nurse smiled at him and he attempted to smile back but he was still having trouble controlling his facial features. Instinctively he began to try and rock his body, hoping to calm down the infant, but for a moment he struggled even to find a proper rhythm of movement. Gradually though, the screaming ceased and became instead a series of soft whines and whimpers and even a small hiccup. Yoochun felt the corner of his lips turn up at the adorable sound.

He took in his son’s (oh my god he had a son!) familiar features; cute rounded cheeks, perfectly shaped eyes, the beginning whisps of what would become a full head of dark hair. He suddenly found himself thinking of an old American saying, ‘a woman becomes a mother the day she gets pregnant, a man becomes a father when he first holds his child,’ and he couldn’t help thinking that it was right. As the reality of the situation sunk in a full smile bloomed on his face. Carefully readjusting his arms he turned to face Boa. She was looking off into space, not paying attention.

“Boa… that was amazing. You did such a great job, I can’t... I can’t even describe it.” Boa just shrugged, yawning.

“More like annoying.” Yoochun managed to catch the mumbled words but easily dismissed her response as a result of exhaustion. She’d been in labor for hours, way longer than Yoochun had expected.

“What should we name him? Did you have something in mind.” Yoochun looked down at his son thoughtfully. It occurred to him that he and Boa had never discussed possible names. Yoochun himself had requested not to know the gender, he’d wanted it to be a surprise, but they could have at least thought of some names. Boa waved her hand dismissively at him.

“Look Yoochun, I don’t care ok? Just do what you want.” Yoochun frowned at this, unconsciously turning away from her as if to shield the baby from her words even thought he knew that the child had no way of understanding. Turning away from her completely, Yoochun glanced back down at his son’s face.

He smiled again, carefully shifting the baby to rest on one arm so he could run his fingers gently over the top of the little boy’s head. Having fallen asleep, the baby now lay quietly expressionless, blowing small bubbles occasionally. To Yoochun it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. He brushed his fingers through the thin strands of hair, careful not to disturb the boy’s slumber, before moving a single finger to rest on the tiny set of five that formed the infant’s right hand.

“Appa will name you then.” He said determinedly. “How about… Inhwan.” Yoochun smiled at his own little decision. It seemed the perfect name.

“Park Inhwan.”

Yoochun watched as Yunho pulled his coat back on, adjusting it briefly as he prepared to head back to his own apartment. They had only been home a few hours, but it was already late and to be honest Yoochun was as exhausted as he was excited. Boa was already asleep in their room, Inhwan resting finally in the crib they’d set up for him. It had been a long day, but Yoochun was glad Yunho had been able to make it. Much as he wanted to deny it, he needed the support.

“Hey, thanks for coming today.” Yunho looked up and smiled.

“You really think I’d miss the birth of my friend’s kid? I’m not that uptight. Plus somebody needed to calm you down, you were more worried about the whole thing than Boa was!” Yoochun reflected his friends smile, laughing a little at the response. “To be honest though…” Yunho frowned a little now, a thoughtful look crossing his features. “I just really wish you didn’t have to go through all of this, you know? I know you keep telling me it’s your fault but-”

“It is my fault, Yunho.” Yoochun knew his calm statement would make Yunho angry. They’d been through this before multiple times already.

“Oh come on Yoochun. I never once remember you having even an inkling of an interest in Boa.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with-”

“She seduced you! She got you drunk Yoochun!” Yoochun looked down in defeat while a tense silence fell between them. Yunho had never liked Boa, and after she got pregnant things had gotten worse. In the end, Yoochun was sure that she, not the baby, was the reason he left.

Yoochun looked at the cleared, empty room; the packed suitcases.

“You’re leaving?” Yunho looked up at him with a sigh, then nodded and resumed putting the last few things away.

“I’m sorry Yoochun, but you’re going to need the room eventually anyway right? It’s just gotten… too crowded here for me.”

“Where will you be staying?”

“I found an apartment closer to work. It’s smaller, a three room thing with a combined kitchen and living room. It’s enough though.” Yunho glanced up and saw the uneasiness in Yoochun’s eyes. Standing he approached his friend and put his hands on the man’s shoulders.

“You’ll be fine Yoochun. Look here’s the number and address of the new apartment.” Yunho fished around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper he’d written the information on earlier, pressing it into Yoochun’s hand. “Call me if you need help ok?”

Yunho sighed and shook his head. The argument was ridiculous.

“I’m sorry Yoochun. Hey, congratulations alright?” The smallest of smiles crept back onto Yoochun’s face and he nodded. A second passed and then Yoochun’s eyes widened in surprise as Yunho’s arms wrapped around him. The hug was brief and stiff, but comforting anyway.

“Just raise that kid well alright? When he’s playing with my kids in a few years I don’t want him causing trouble.” Yoochun punched his friend lightly on the arm.

“Are you kidding? Did you see how cute he is? He’s gonna grow up to be handsome just like his Appa and when all your kids turn out ugly you’re just going to have to sit there and be jealous.” Yunho just laughed.

“If my kids end up looking as ‘handsome’ as you, you can have them.”

“Ya! Get out of my apartment!” Yoochun chuckled jokingly and Yunho laughed as he made his way down the steps outside.

Yunho had gradually grown more comfortable with the idea of hanging out in a bar like a normal man his age over the last few weeks. After their accidental encounter with Jaejoong a while back, he’d run into the man several more times, and now he found himself oddly hopeful every time he wandered into ‘their bar’, just a little bit sad every time he showed up and the other man wasn’t there. This time it seemed he’d lucked out.

Jaejoong was already dancing, probably having downed a drink or two already, when Yunho made his way through the crowded entrance. As if he’d been expecting him, Jaejoong looked up almost instantly, their eyes meeting across the room. Jaejoong glided toward him, not missing a beat as he stepped around the other dancers until he was standing right in front of Yunho, still wagging his hips playfully.

“Hiya stranger.” Yunho smiled at the greeting, knowing simply by the way Jaejoong was moving that he was being invited to dance. He started to step forward, a little bit of a challenge sparking in his eyes. He was more confident now, Jaejoong having thoroughly praised his dancing skills after that first time, and he’d been having a very good day. Before he could back Jaejoong back onto the floor, one of the man’s hands pressed against his chest. The small amount of pressure was easily enough to keep Yunho in place. He quirked an eyebrow in question. Jaejoong smirked, leaning dangerously close to him to whisper somewhat loudly (over the music) in his ear.

“You know you’ve met me more than five times now, I think you owe me a number.” Yunho stiffened, then laughed hearing Jaejoong’s words. The man had a good memory. Yunho’s smile widened, his hands moving slowly but surely to Jaejoong’s hips, pushing slightly. His response came in the form of two words.

“Hiya back.”

Yoochun closed the door behind him and let out a sigh as he put his things down. It had been a week since they had brought Inhwan home, a week of Boa complaining and the baby crying and him working as hard as he could. He was already exhausted, and it had only been a week. He paused at the table, leaning his weight on it with one hand as he mentally prepared himself to face the woman he was now living alone with – well mostly alone.

As he passed Inhwan’s room he glanced in through the slightly open door, noting that the boy was fast asleep in his crib. He lingered for a moment, a tired smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn’t help it. Regardless of the situation, his son was a miracle. He made the rest of the way down the hall, straightening his clothes and not paying much attention as he began speaking loud enough for Boa to hear but not so much it woke the baby.

“Boa? I’m home. There are some bills in the mail that we really should…” He looked up and trailed off slowly, his hands falling to his sides. Instantly he turned and sped back down the hallway, making his way to one of the two windows in the apartment that looked down on the street. He hadn’t been checking before, but sure enough, the car he’d bought her was gone. Another thought occurred to him and he made his way more slowly to his own bedroom. He reached out to pull open the drawer where he kept his extra money, hoping beyond hope that she hadn’t done what he highly suspected someone would do in this situation. Of course, she had. The money was gone. All of it. All the money he’d saved for the apartment, for the bills, for Inhwan… oh, god. How would he take care of Inhwan?

Yoochun returned to her room in a daze, not really ready to process this. He looked around the cleared out room. The bed was still a mess, drawers left hanging open from where she’d removed her belongings. She’d taken everything. She wasn’t coming back. He walked over to the one piece of decent furniture in the room, and picked up the only item she’d left behind. It was a picture of herself, set in a small frame. The image mocked him. He honestly was beyond his breaking point with the woman, but still his first and only real thought was ‘What did I do wrong?’ He set the frame down, the picture facing the dresser.

He walked back down the hall and into Inhwan’s room. The boy was just starting to wiggle in his crib, waking slowly with a cry already forming on his tiny lips. Yoochun bent down and picked him up, still sure he wasn’t really holding him right, and attempted to rock him back into slumber, but the man’s body wouldn’t stop shaking.

How do I do this alone? There’s no way I can do this alone…

Yoochun could have died of happiness when he saw Yunho sitting at a table in the coffee shop he had just entered. He hadn’t been able to contact the man in a while and he needed help. Badly. Even if Yunho wasn’t really the best person to ask about child care…

He sat down heavily, a squirming Inhwan held carefully in his arms, whining as Yoochun adjusted his posture to sit in the chair and still hold the infant. Yunho looked up in surprise.

“Yoochun? What are you-” He was cut off, his shock evident on his face, as another man interrupted.

“And who might you be?” Yoochun had barely managed a smile at his friend before he was looking up at a guy he’d never met. The man had a pretty face and smooth, dark hair, and at the moment he was facing Yoochun with a look of curiosity and amusement.

“Oh… um… Park Yoochun.” He answered dumbly, not really sure who he was talking to. Inhwan squirmed, and the man’s eyes dropped to the baby briefly.

“Kim Jaejoong. I’d shake your hand but it looks like they are otherwise occupied. And you seem to have taken my seat.” He smiled regardless and pulled up another chair, waving Yoochun back down when he immediately began to stand up. “Sit down, sit down. My god you’re antsy aren’t you?” Yunho shook his head while Jaejoong introduced himself.

“He’s a friend of mine. We used to room together.” He commented to Jaejoong before turning his attention to Yoochun. “Yoochun what are you doing here?” Yoochun kept glancing at Jaejoong awkwardly, not sure he wanted to explain himself in front of a stranger, and not really sure how Yunho knew Jaejoong.

“I, um…” He glanced down at Inhwan who was still fidgeting. “I was trying to get him a little fresh air, but I don’t think I’m holding him right and he won’t stop moving…” Yoochun couldn’t help the little bit of desperation that shined in his eyes. To his surprise and Yunho’s, Jaejoong laughed.

“Of course you’re not holding him right. Look.” The man reached over and easily lifted Inhwan out of Yoochun arms, rocking the baby for a minute and hushing him gently. The infant quieted instantly, as if some sort of spell had rendered him silent. Yoochun gaped, hands halfway outstretched, not at all sure he was comfortable with a stranger holding his child yet amazed at Jaejoong’s apparent skill with children. Who was this guy? Jaejoong ignored Yoochun’s inability to fully process his thoughts and continued speaking anyway.

“You see how my arms are supporting him? He won’t be comfortable if you hold him the way you were. His head is still too heavy for him to hold up on his own.” He slowly moved the now quiet Inhwan back into Yoochun’s arms, and with a little adjustment Yoochun managed to somewhat awkwardly imitate the correct way to hold the baby. He rocked him a little, waiting for the squirming and crying he was used to, but Inhwan remained silent. A relieved smile brightened his face and quickly turned into one of immense gratitude. Jaejoong smiled in satisfaction.

“So Yoochun, what are you really doing here?” Yunho was a little peeved at having his outing interrupted, but really he just wanted to know what was going on. Yoochun looked up and his expression became nervous again. He hesitated, then decided to explain himself regardless of the extra audience he had.

“I… Boa left me. I still have to work almost all the time but I can’t leave Inhwan by himself and I don’t have the money to pay for a sitter yet. I don’t know what to do I really have no idea how to take care of him and I’m just worried that-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re a single father?” Yoochun glanced at Jaejoong, who was frowning now.

“Ah… yes I am, I guess.” Jaejoong looked him over again, suddenly noticing how tired the man seemed. “That explains it then.” He said musing. Yoochun looked down, uncomfortable revealing how helpless he’d become. Yunho spoke up again.

“Wait… if you can’t leave him alone then how have you been taking care of him?” Yoochun bit his lip.

“I… I took off work. I didn’t know what else I could do!” Yunho just stared. There was no way Yoochun had the money to simply take off work. He’d lose the apartment. God damn that woman for leaving him, but it wasn’t as if Yunho hadn’t seen it coming. After a moment of silence, Jaejoong spoke up again.

“I’lll help you then.” Yoochun’s attention snapped back up. “I work at a daycare not too far from here. I’ve got plenty of experience with kids if you’re concerned about that.” Yunho looked over at Jaejoong in surprise.

“You’ll help him?” Jaejoong nodded.

“He’s a single father. It’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing. If he’s a friend of yours I don’t mind doing it for free until he can manage to pay for it. I’m sure you owe him some sort of favor anyway. Plus you have to admit, the kids pretty cute.” Yunho blushed lightly. He did owe Yoochun a favor actually… Yoochun was stunned for a moment before he began nodding enthusiastically. This Jaejoong guy thought his son was cute. He was definitely trustworthy.

“Thank you so much…” Jaejoong shrugged.

“Just bring him by in the mornings to drop him off. I’ll be in the main office so you can leave him directly with me.” He pulled a napkin toward himself and scribbled down a few things. “Here’s the address and phone number. You can call whenever you want.” Jaejoong could tell the man was attached to his kid, otherwise he would have given up by now. And if he was nervous about handing the baby to Jaejoong for just a few seconds, there was no way he’d make it through a day apart without calling at least 40 times. Jaejoong had done this before. Yunho just shook his head.

Yoochun took the napkin greatfully.

“Thank you.”

Yoochun smiled as he walked up to where Jaejoong was waiting with Inhwan. The young boy was practically bouncing, proudly sporting some picture he’d drawn. When he saw Yoochun coming the boy turned and was about to run forward when Jaejoong grabbed his hand lightly.

“What did I say before Inhwan? We’ve got to wait here ok?” He watched as Yoochun quickly crossed the street. When the man reached them he bent down and gave his son a hug. He had learned to stop calling continuously now, but Yoochun still breathed a sigh of relief every time he came to pick the young boy up. He ruffled Inhwan’s hair and stood up.

“So how did things go today? Did he like the new teacher?” Jaejoong smiled and shook his head.

“What is wrong with you, Yoochun? You really think I’d give him a teacher he didn’t like? Honestly you worry more than any other father I’ve met.” Inhwan smiled and tugged impatiently on Yoochun’s sleeve.

“Appa, appa look! It’s us!” Yoochun smiled and looked down, seeing the picture displayed in Inhwan’s tiny hands. He was about to open his mouth to respond when suddenly Inhwan broke away from them, running back toward the school.

“Umma! Umma! Umma!” Yoochun tensed instantly, but when he looked he found that Inhwan was not running toward the woman he dreaded ever seeing but instead toward a young man. Jaejoong ignored the boy’s apparent confusion as to what gender the other was and frowned.

“Inhwan! I told you, you can’t just run around like that!” While Jaejoong called out, Yoochun followed after his son quickly, kneeling down when he reached him.

“Inhwan, hush. He’s not you umma ok? Don’t call him that..” He smiled apologetically and pulled the boy into his arms, lifting him up. “Sorry about that.” He added to the young man standing before him. The man just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s alright. So you’re the handsome man from the picture.” The young man meant the comment as a slight joke, because Inhwan had not quite mastered the art of stick figures yet, but as he looked Yoochun over he had to admit, they guy wasn’t bad looking in the slightest. Yoochun blushed slightly, not expecting the compliment, but nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah, that’s me. Park Yoochun.” He held out his hand, using his other to hold Inhwan in place. “And you are?” The man shook his hand gently, still smiling brightly.

“Kim Junsu. Inhwan got switched to my class today.” Yoochun’s eyes widened.

“Oh, you’re his new teacher? It’s nice to meet you.” Yoochun looked the man over in more detail now, trying to get a sense of the man who his son would be spending so much time with. He trusted Jaejoong completely, so he had no doubt that Kim Junsu would do his job well.

“Same to you. It seemed like Inhwan enjoyed himself today, didn’t you Inhwan?” With this statement he leaned forward a little and scrunched up his nose, shaking his head at the little boy. Inhwan giggled instantly and buried his head in Yoochun’s shoulder. Yoochun just smiled. He could tell he liked this ‘Kim Junsu’ already.

“Alright, well we’d better head home now. Can you say thank you to your teacher Inhwan? Say goodbye.” Inhwan perked up at this.

“Tank you umma.” He grinned, pleased with himself. Yoochun shook his head but before he could speak Junsu waved him off.

“It’s alright, he was calling me that earlier too. Do I really look like his mother?” There was laughter behind Junsu’s eyes. Yoochun shook his head immediately.

“No, no. He’s only seen his mother through a picture anyway. Alright say good bye.” He started to turn but Inhwan twisted in his arms and whined.

“No, Appa~” The little boy stretched out his arms in Junsu’s direction, his tiny hands making little grabby motions in the air. Yoochun was a little surprised at how quickly Inhwan had warmed up to a stranger. For the most part, the boy was fairly shy.

“What is it Inhwan? You.. do you want to give him a hug goodbye?” Yoochun turned back toward Junsu, a little confused by his son’s behavior. Junsu didn’t seem bothered though. He stepped closer to Yoochun and let Inhwan lean forward to hug him.

“Bye bye.” Inhwan said cutely, waving shyly, and then turned back to his father immediately and hid his face again. Junsu smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair gently. Yoochun watched, shaking his head slowly, and met Junsu’s eyes briefly as the man looked up. He smiled again, wondering at the bond the teacher had already managed to form with his son. As Yoochun walked away he waved to Jaejoong briefly (the man was talking to another parent at this point) and returned to his car. He frowned thoughtfully as he buckled Inhwan into his car seat. Although he definitely liked the man, something about Junsu seemed way too familiar. Still, he seemed to be good with kids and Inhwan obviously liked him, and besides… he was oddly charming, something in the air around him that seemed to draw people in, so Yoochun pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and quickly forgot them. His smile matched Inhwan’s the entire way home.

-end chapter 3-

Time line in case you're confused with all the time skips:

Yoochun meets Boa and she moves in
Yunho meets Jaejoong in the same week
Yunho moves out four months into Boa's pregnancy, and runs into Jaejoong again shortly after
Boa ditches Yoochun a week after Inhwan is born
Within the week after Boa leaves, Yoochun meets up with Yunho and Jaejoong
Three years pass, and Yoochun meets Inhwan's new teacher Junsu

Dealing with Eve [revised]

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 06:25:54 GMT

Title: Dealing with Eve
Chapter: 2/? (short as i can make it)
Genre: romance, angst, humor maybe? there will be fluff in later chapters so hang in there
Pairing/s: eventual Yoosu and Jaeho, for the moment... Boachun (Boa x Yoochun) *shudders*
Rating: mostly PG 13, a little higher for this chapter but not quite NC 17 i don't think. R maybe?
Warnings: implied sex/almost smut. (its het folks. i know. *shoots self*) this is primarily a yoosu fic. if you are a fan of Boa, this probably isn't for you. some language, more in this chapter then most.
Disclaimer: i don't own them. O_o the one and only religious reference in this fic is to how Eve was tempted to sin and got Adam in trouble, picture Boa as Eve and it should eventually make sense (this explains the title and that's pretty much it, has nothing to do with the fic really)
Summary: Yoochun's habit of being the 'nice guy' gets him in trouble when he invites Boa, a disowned college drop-out, to take up the extra third room in the apartment he shares with his close friend Yunho. Boa desperately wants enough money to move herself out of the city and away from her family, and she is willing to do anything to get it. Can Yoochun handle the consequences?

[note: ok so this chapter has the worst of the Boachun action and if you don't like her already you really won't like her after this. i dont really write smut, but it gets pretty close and there is most definately implied sex so be forewarned. to make up for it there is a little bit of jaeho in this chapter to tide you all over. hope it helps. yoosu should meet up end of next chapter if i can fit it. read on... and try not to cringe too much.]

Chapter 2

As Boa sat next to Yoochun at the bar, watching him slowly sink into a drunken stupor, she was almost regretting her decision to not make an attempt with Yunho instead. Almost. She was pretty positive that Yunho would be impossible, but honestly waiting around for Yoochun to get drunk was thoroughly wiping out all her patience. What little patience she had anyway. Of course, getting Yunho to let her take Yoochun out drinking in the first place was a chore in itself. But he was out working and wouldn’t be home till late and things would be perfect if Yoochun would just stop talking and down a few more shots. She glanced his direction, more like glared in his direction, and noted how he was about to fall out of his chair.

She sighed in exasperation, thin fingers clutching the glass of water she was forcing herself to down instead of something with a little more bite. This was going to have to be enough, she couldn’t take it any longer. If he wasn’t drunk out of his mind by now, he’d be out of it enough by the time they reached the apartment. She stood up and tapped Yoochun’s shoulder, plastering on a fake smile when he turned to her, his cheeks flushed with alcohol.

“Come on, chatter box, let’s get you home.” We’ve got things to do. She ground the words out through her teeth, praying that in the very least he’d be easy to transport. Surprisingly he just nodded, smiling way too widely, and tried to stumble to his feet. Frowning impatiently Boa grabbed his shoulders to steady him then let him lean on her as she struggled to navigate the dark club and get back to the street. This will be worth it, she reminded herself. Once they finally made it outside she walked him to the car (it was his, seeing as she didn’t own one) and let him slump onto the pavement while she unlocked it and opened a door for him. Yoochun blinked up at her and then tried to stand up.

“Hey… hey let me drive.” She shot him a look but if he saw it, it didn’t register.

“Oh no. No driving for you. You can take the backseat for this ride. And don’t pass out on me, alright? It’s hard enough getting you drunk once, don’t think I’m going to do it again.” She half-pulled him up, half-shoved him forward to get him into the car. If this doesn’t work I think I’m going to kill myself.

As Boa stripped off her skimpy clothes and climbed across Yoochun’s bed toward him it bothered her more than she thought it would to find that he looked less than interested. She knew he had never been particularly taken with her before, but she had hoped that maybe he’d come to his senses when he was drunk at least. He had giggled all the way up the stairs after she was barely able to keep him awake in the car. (She’d had to honk the horn loudly every few minutes just to startle him awake, much to the displeasure of the other drivers.) Now he was quiet again, staring at her blankly from the bed as if he didn’t really understand what was going on. Guys can be so stupid, she thought, giving him what she hoped came out as a seductive smile. She straddled him carefully and tried to make herself seem as sexy as possible as she leaned down to press her lips against his. He didn’t respond, and she was frustrated and annoyed to note that she could feel nothing poking at her through his pants. This is going to take some work, she thought determinedly.

She started rotating her hips, knowing that the pressure should at least get things started, but Yoochun just continued to stare at her through half-lidded eyes that looked more sleepy then turned on. She pursed her lips and bent down to kiss him again, pushing her hips down harder and moving against him with as much force as she could. His eyes widened a little and he began to kiss back tentatively as if it had just occurred to him what was going on. After a few minutes without much progress she sat up again, pausing for a second and shaking her head.

“God Yoochun, I swear of all the men I’ve turned on before, you are definitely taking the longest. And that’s saying something.” Some guys couldn’t keep their dick in their pants long enough to watch her walk toward them. Groaning in frustration she bent back down and claimed his lips again briefly. He tasted of sour alcohol, but it wasn’t like any of the other guys she’d screwed had tasted better. Swiftly she slipped her hand into his pants, giving him one good, hard stroke. He flinched at the contact at first and then groaned, hardening under her hand.

“Finally! I always thought you were gay but come on.” She breathed against his lips. This seemed to spark some level of understanding in him and he growled, forcefully pushing her off of him and reversing their positions.

“I am not gay.” Boa had to laugh at this, she couldn’t help herself.

“Yeah, sure, you keep telling yourself that.” She reached down and undid his pants, pushing them over his hips. Finally they were getting somewhere! He was kissing her with more energy now, but before they could get any further he stopped, pausing to look down at her with a semi-thoughtful look on his face.

“What about… condom…” She sighed in exasperation and pulled him back down to her.

“We don’t need that now just fuck me already!” No guy would need to hear that statement twice, not even Park Yoochun.

Yunho kicked off his shoes lightly at the front door before making his way to the kitchen, leaving his jacket and keys on the dining room table as he passed it. He checked his wrist watch for the time while reaching for a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets. Letting out a sigh as he read 3:05 am off the clear watch face, he held his glass under the tap in the sink and began to fill it with water. He wasn’t much of a drinker, he couldn’t afford the morning hangover if he got drunk, but tonight he’d let himself stay out way too late. His job as a bartender ended at 2:00, but he’d managed to somehow stick around for an extra hour.

He jumped a little as cold water splashed over his hand, his glass overfilling as he momentarily forgot about it. Shutting off the tap he turned to lean his back against the sink, crossing one arm over his chest and staring at the wall, lost in thought. Much as he tried to ignore it, it seemed that his mind kept drifting back to a young man he’d been introduced to that evening, or morning rather. This was the same young man that had somehow kept him an extra hour at work, drinking and talking and enjoying himself. To be perfectly honest, other than Yoochun and Changmin on occasion there seemed to be very few people that could get him to loosen up. For whatever reason, he’d felt completely relaxed around this man, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“First time here?” The man in question looked away from the dance floor as Yunho spoke, smiling at him as he appreciated Yunho’s figure with his eyes.

“Yeah, I don’t hang around this part of town much.” He tossed his head gently, effectively moving soft stands of black hair out of his eyes. Yunho blinked at the obvious interest flickering in the man’s deep brown eyes.

“Well, welcome. What can I get for ya?” The man smiled wider.

“I don’t know. What can you get me?” An awkward silence passed between them as Yunho registered the hidden meanings in the man’s words. He blushed a little, unused to getting attention from customers. “Anything to recommend?” The man finally seemed to finish his question, having stalled long enough to get the response he was looking for. Shaking his head a little Yunho smiled at the other’s teasing and turned around to serve up a mixed drink most people seemed to be fond of.

“Try this.” He passed the drink over the counter and leaned forward against it, watching the man sip the colored blend of liquid. The guy returned his gaze, looking up at him through long black lashes. Yunho shivered a little unconsciously.

“I’m Kim Jaejoong.” The man offered suddenly. “And you are?” Yunho raised an eyebrow and decided to tease back.

“The bartender.” Jaejoong’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Oh? What a clever title.” Yunho laughed.

“Jung Yunho, but I don’t give out numbers to people I’ve met less than five times so don’t ask.” It was Jaejoong’s turn to chuckle. He broke his suave image by covering his mouth as he laughed, suddenly much too cute for his own good. Yunho smiled.

“No numbers then.” Jaejoong finally managed. “Stick around after and talk for a bit?” Yunho gave him a humorously thoughtful look.

“I’m not so sure about that. How do I know you’re not planning something?” Jaejoong got up, leaving his drink mostly untouched.

“I work at a daycare with screaming children all day. How much trouble could I be?” With that he melded into the crowd, moving to the dance floor with the ease of someone who knew what they were doing. Yunho watched as he cleaned up the drink and wiped down the counter, noting how fluid and captivating the man’s movements were. Oh, I’d say you’re plenty of trouble, Jaejoong.

A noise from the hallway broke into Yunho’s thoughts and he looked up in time to watch Boa, yawning and stretching and not wearing nearly enough clothing, stroll into the kitchen in pursuit of her own glass of water. He shifted away from the sink instantly, ignoring her as always, and dodged her attempt to brush her fingers against his t-shirt as he passed her. He didn’t trust her really, not even now after the several months she’d been staying with them, and he didn’t like the unusual self-satisfied look she’d had on her face right then. As he stepped into the hallway and turned to head for his room, it caught his attention that she’d come from the wrong direction. She’d entered the kitchen not from the right, where her room was located, but from the left, a part of the hallway that had only one room branching off of it. Yoochun’s.

Boa sat in one of the two stalls provided in the disgusting mini mart bathroom, her legs spread uncomfortably as she prayed that this was the last time she’d have to do this. When she was done she moved into the main part of the bathroom, but just stood there shaking a small white object in her right hand while she waited, obsessively checking it every few seconds. She knew she shouldn’t be this nervous, but she really didn’t want to have to repeat the whole process of getting to this point. She’d had to wait two weeks before this would even work, and really that was sort of helpful because it gave Yoochun plenty of time to forget their little…encounter. Still, if this came up negative that would mean starting over and Boa was just not a patient person. After about three minutes an image began to appear and she smiled as it got clearer by the second: a small pink plus sign. At that moment, pink suddenly became her favorite color.

Shoving the test into her purse to save for proof, she quickly washed her hands and made her way back out of the store, a genuine smile blooming on her face. This was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Yoochun was a sucker for things like this. It would be sinfully easy to convince him it was his fault, and then he’d give her anything she wanted to make up for it. Anything. She laughed a little at her own brilliance. Time to go tell Appa the news, she thought happily. Nine more months and I’m out of here.

When Boa arrived home she found herself alone, although she’d quelled her disappointment with the fact that she would now have the time to work herself into a believable fit. Much more dramatic this way anyway. Now she could hear Yoochun’s steps on the stairs outside the apartment and a small thrill traveled down her spine. She was this much closer to escape, and besides, she now had the perfect form of revenge for the horrible night she’d been forced to spend with her unfortunate roommate. He’s not even a good lay, for God’s sake.

The door opened and closed and there was the soft sound of a bag being dropped to the floor as she let her expression drop into an angry frown and pushed herself out of the dining room chair she’d occupied for the last hour. Grabbing her evidence she stomped into the front room and met a confused Yoochun in the entranceway. Not wasting a moment she hardly gave him time to put together the words ‘what’s wrong’ before shoving the pregnancy test in his face.

“What am I supposed to do with this Yoochun? Huh? Tell me just what I’m supposed to do about this.” Yoochun blinked. A pregnancy test? Why was she showing him a pregnancy test? Wait a minute… is this hers?

“Ummm… I’m not sure. Is this yours?” She glared at him with all the emotion she could manage.

“No you fucking idiot it’s ours. Ours. Do you even fucking remember? We slept together Yoochun. I tried to tell you we needed protection but you were just so cool you wanted to go without it well now look what you’ve done.” What is she talking about? Yoochun frowned. We never… oh. Then the memory hit him. He’d woken up one morning a couple weeks ago with the worst hangover he’d had in months. That, and a bunch of Boa’s clothing all over his floor along with his own. So they must have… they must have…

“God dammit Yoochun how dense are you? I’m pregnant! Pregnant! How am I supposed to pay for this huh? Do I look like I have the money to pay for a fucking baby?!” She chucked the pregnancy test at him and fled into the other room, quickly concealing herself behind a wall. Yoochun stumbled to catch the small white object and then stared at it, his eyes wide and confused.

Now the pink plus sign on the pregnancy test glared up at Yoochun. He… he got her pregnant? His shoulders slumped as things began to sink in. He couldn’t remember the night they’d spent together at all, but why would she lie? If she said it was his then… then it must be. She had no reason to not be telling the truth. And she was right. Neither of them had the money for this. He’d… he’d have to get a better job he’d have to… to drop some of his classes. Work longer hours. He shook his head, disbelief clear on his face.

How had he let this happen? Just when things were starting to look up for him how had he managed to shred them like this? And Boa… Boa had to be so upset. She was only what? 20? He had never meant for this to happen to her when he’d invited her to stay with them. What would Yunho think? And what about the baby? When it was born how would they be able to take care of it? He couldn’t possibly be ready to take care of a kid. But he’d have to be. He’d have to. There was no way he’d make Boa deal with this on her own. It was his fault, however stupid he’d been, and he was going to do what he could. If Boa was going to carry his child, then he was going to make sure it was as easy for her as possible.

Boa watched as different emotions crossed Yoochun’s face as the reality of the situation sank in. She could practically tell what he was thinking just from the look on his face. He had always been so open, so emotional compared to the more controlled Yunho or the other bastards she’d slept with. He was so harmless, and so vulnerable because of it. Really, he didn’t deserve this. But hey, nice guys always finish last.

He crumbled before her eyes as she watched him. He looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, but she could tell he was also trying to pull himself together. Probably convincing himself that he could handle it. That if he just worked a little bit harder he could make the money he’d need. The money she needed. Watching him stand there, so unready for the problem she’d just shoved into his life, she almost felt bad for him. Almost.

-end of chapter 2-

[alrighty! you're pretty much done with Boa at this point, just deal with her a little bit longer. i promise she won't last through the next chapter if i have anything to say about it! yoosu is comming, really it is. but jaejoong showed up! yayz! jaeho will have moments sort of throughout the fic, mostly with yunho reflecting on their interactions if that's alright. still working on fitting changmin in here somewhere, but i think i found a way so we'll see. i know this is pretty angsty at the moment but Susu will make it all better eventually. the return of inhwan is imminent! i will be leaving in two days for a little over a week to study the civil rights movement. no cute asian guys in the south! i am sooooooooo doomed. but i will try to write the third chapter while im away if i can. anywayz comments are love, point out my errors and here's the lovely photo gallery.]

Dealing with Eve [revised]

Sun, 30 Dec 2007 06:43:30 GMT

Title: Dealing with Eve
Chapter: prologue and chapter 1
Length: chaptered, as short as i can make it
Genre: romance, angst, humor maybe? there will be fluff in upcoming chapters
Pairing/s: eventual Yoosu and Jaeho, for the moment... Boachun (Boa x Yoochun) *shudders*
Rating: mostly PG 13 i think
Warnings: this is primarily a yoosu fic. if you are a fan of Boa, this probably isn't for you. some language.
Disclaimer: i don't own them. O_o the one and only religious reference in this fic is to how Eve was tempted to sin and got Adam in trouble, picture Boa as Eve and it should eventually make sense (this explains the title and that's pretty much it)
Summary: Yoochun's habit of being the 'nice guy' gets him in trouble when he invites Boa, a disowned college drop-out, to take up the extra third room in the apartment he shares with his close friend Yunho. Boa desperately wants enough money to move herself out of the city and away from her family, and she is willing to do anything to get it. Can Yoochun handle the consequences?

[note: i hope i have enough energy to continue this. i can't promise that it will be good but the idea has been weighing on my mind for a while. hopefully only the first two chapters or so will have Boa x Yoochun. i don't really like the pairing (sorry if you do) but unfortunately it's part of the plot and i need it. this is a yoosu fic i promise!!!]

Prologue

“Umma! Umma! Umma!” The little boy ran happily up to his teacher, a paper fluttering in his small hands. “Umma look!” Junsu raised an eyebrow in amusement and crouched down so he was at the three-year-old’s eye level.

“I’m not your Umma, Inhwan.” He ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “Hyung. You can call me hyung, ok?” Inhwan tilted his head to the side cutely, his big round eyes sparkling curiously.

“But you look like Umma.” The statement caught Junsu off guard.

“Ah…” He chuckled slightly, running a hand awkwardly through his own hair. Who were Inhwan’s parents? He couldn’t remember. The boy was moved into his class only three days ago because of some complication with the prior care-taker. He hadn’t met the parents; Jaejoong had brought the boy over. Inhwan was definitely a sweet kid though; adorable and charming. Whoever was raising him was doing a good job. He shook his head a little and brought his focus to the paper in the youngster’s hand.

“What did you want to show me, Inhwan?” The boy smiled instantly, his face lighting up and his eyes almost disappearing as his slightly chubby cheeks lifted.

“Umma look!” He thrust the paper forward, revealing the absolutely brilliant scribble of a drawing he’d put there. Junsu decided to ignore the ‘umma’ title he seemed to have earned. Kids never ceased to amuse him.

“It’s beautiful Inhwan.” Junsu cooed, smiling as he helped the boy hold up his drawing. “Did you draw this all by yourself?” Inhwan nodded enthusiastically. “Is the little one you?” Junsu pointed to the shorter of two crayon stick figures. Inhwan nodded again.

“Mhmm.”

“And who’s this?” Junsu moved his finger to the other, slightly taller stick figure. Inhwan smiled yet again.

“My Appa. It’s a family picture.” Junsu frowned a little.

“But where’s your Umma?” At this Inhwan broke out into a fit of giggles and pointed one small finger at Junsu. Before the young man could say anything the boy was scampering off to play with the other kids, leaving the bemused teacher holding his precious art work and chanting ‘umma, umma, umma’ as he went.

Yoochun looked up from his phone in surprise as a frustrated looking young woman walked into him, effectively knocking herself to the ground. Quickly getting over his initial shock he snapped his phone shut and shoved it hurriedly into his pocket before bending down and extending a hand to the distraught girl he’d quite literally run into.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright?” The girl looked like she wanted to cry. He pulled her gently to her feet, steadying her as she started to stumble again. She’d broken the heel on one of her shoes when she fell. She pushed his hands away, running one of her own through her long and now slightly messy dyed-brown hair in an attempt to recover herself.

“I’m fine. Really, I’m- no, you know what? I’m not fine. Do you know where to find a cheap hotel?” Yoochun noticed she was still unsteady on her uneven shoes, but she looked like she might resent another attempt to help her, so he hooked his thumbs into his jean pockets and quirked an eyebrow instead.

“A hotel?” She sighed heavily, looking around for someone who might be of more assistance then this idiot she’d stumbled upon.

“Yeah, I’ve… been kicked out. I need a place to stay for a while but I can’t really afford to leave the city.” Yoochun frowned thoughtfully. A hotel wasn’t a good idea for a girl her age. Anything that was actually safe would probably be too expensive anyway.

“Well… actually we’ve been looking for someone to move into our third room… but you’d be staying with two guys…” Yoochun mused out loud. Speaking before thinking was a bit of a habit for him. Her eyes lit up instantly, her attention snapping back to him.

“That’s fine. Perfect.” Maybe he’s not so useless. “Would you mind driving me to my house to pick up my things?” Yoochun was startled by her sudden acceptance when he hadn’t even formally invited her yet.

“Well, no but… I should probably call my roommate and ask if he minds. We promised to talk this over.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. He’s a guy right? He couldn’t possibly see a woman moving into his apartment as a bad thing.” Yoochun frowned uncomfortably. He wasn’t so sure about that. The girl studied his expression exasperatedly.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fine, I get along with everyone. You aren’t really going to just leave me here, are you?” She could tell he was one of those genuinely nice guys, and she was playing into it big time. If you get along with people so well then why did your parents just kick you out, Yoochun couldn’t help wondering. He looked into her eyes, shinning hopefully up at him. What was he getting himself into? Well since he’d already invited her, he couldn’t really say no... Yunho wouldn’t care right? Yoochun certainly hoped so.

“Alright, where do you live?” The girl smiled, a look of relief spreading across her face.

“It’s not far from here. I’ll show you. I’m Junhee by the way, but call me Boa. I can’t stand Junhee. God only knows why my parents chose it.” Boa? Yoochun nodded, leading the way to his car.

“Park Yoochun.” He opened her door for her, watching as she slid quickly past him into the passengers’ seat. Once they were on their way he pulled his phone back out. He’d been debating about contacting his friend Changmin earlier. Debating, because he was going to ask if the guy wouldn’t mind making him an extra set of notes from the composition class he’d just skipped and was sure he was going to get a lot of sarcasm for his efforts. This seemed a good enough reason to put it off though. Instead he dialed his apartment. Yunho picked up on the third ring.

/Hello?/

“Hey Yunho. I’m going to be a bit late getting home. Do you mind taking care of dinner? We’re having someone over tonight.” He shot a sideways glance at Boa, but she wasn’t paying attention.

/We are? Who?/

“Just someone I… ran into. We’ll be there around 8 ok?”

/Sure. Ok. See you then./ Click.

Before they rounded the corner Yoochun glanced in his rearview mirror. He had been parked outside what looked like a daycare center. The kids were already gone, but some of the staff must have still been there because several of the lights were on. He wondered briefly what the girl had been doing there, but then decided not to ask. Maybe she’d just been walking in the area? He hadn’t seen where she’d come from anyway. He turned his attention back to the road, looking at her while waiting for directions.

“Just keep going straight for a while.” She waved her hand dismissively in the direction of the road ahead of them, not even glancing in his direction. Sighing, he pushed down the gas peddle. This was ok right? He didn’t really know the girl, well he didn’t know her at all, but she seemed nice enough... or something. He glanced back at her briefly, praying that he hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

Yoochun walked up the brief flight of steps to his apartment, the sound of Boa’s replacement heels clacking on the steps behind him. She hadn’t taken long to get her things together, but he had overheard a bought of yelling during the process. Apparently her parents weren’t very pleased with her at the moment. He’d debated asking why exactly she was being kicked out, but then thought it might be better if he didn’t know. He certainly wasn’t going to mention to Yunho that he’d picked up some random girl whose parents had ditched her. He himself had left of his own free will, unable to stand his parents fighting any longer. Maybe Boa was dealing with something similar? Regardless of the reason, Yoochun fervently hoped she would be smart enough to leave that detail out of discussion this evening. Yunho would definitely not take well to the information.

He slid his key into the door, listening to the lock click as he fought with it for a second before it gave and the door swung open. Bending to pick up one of Boa’s bags he showed her in, taking her coat when she handed it to him and leaving her stuff in the entrance hall. The apartment was large and comfortable, but rent was a pain and they really needed a third person to help them keep it. Presumably Boa would be able to solve this problem, though already Yoochun had his doubts.

“Yunho? Hey we’re home.” There was a grunt from the kitchen and the sound of things being moved around before Yunho made his way to the front. He eyed the girl with disinterest briefly but spoke to Yoochun instead.

“Who’s this?” Yoochun opened his mouth to answer but Boa beat him to it.

“I’m your new roommate. Nice to meet you.” She smiled and held out a hand, frowning in disbelief when Yunho ignored her completely. Yoochun rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably.

“This is... Boa. She said she needed a place to stay so I thought… maybe she could use the extra room for a while?” Yunho sighed and shook his head.

“Yoochun I thought we agreed to discus this first.” He crossed his arms over his chest, completely ignoring the fact that Boa was still standing right in front of them.

“Look I couldn’t just leave her could I? Is it really that important? You know we’re never really home anyway and we need someone to help with the rent.”

“Excuse me, I’m standing right here if you didn’t notice and what do you have against me anyway? Huh? Who made you king of the apartment?” Boa glared up at Yunho challengingly but once again he ignored her.

“What about Changmin?” Yoochun gave his roommate a look.

“You really think he’d move in with us just to help us pay rent?” Yunho frowned. Yoochun was right on that one. Sighing he gave up.

“Alright, alright. She can stay.” He turned, raising his hands in the air in defeat, and headed back to the kitchen. Yoochun followed with a sigh of relief, gesturing with his hand for Boa to follow. “I hope you’re not picky about what you eat. If I’m providing the meal it’s going to be something I like.” Yunho directed his comment at Boa from across the room, the first words he’d said to her. She huffed but sat down at the table anyway and scowled all through dinner.

Yoochun was left feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He knew Yunho wouldn’t comment about the incident further and that after a while his friend would adjust and things would be fine, but was letting her stay really such a good idea? After dinner he helped move her stuff into her new room, all the while listening to her complain about dinner and why didn’t they at least keep the room in decent shape if someone was going to be using it. Yoochun just shook his head, exhaustion creeping up on him, and attempted to push his second thoughts out of his mind.

The months went by relatively easily despite Yoochun’s early worries. Boa proved to have a good amount of attitude, but she ended up keeping mostly to herself. She was rarely around, even less than himself and Yunho who were both busy with classes and part time jobs, but she managed to pay her share of the rent each month.

She had quickly learned several things about both young men. Yunho mostly ran the household so to speak. He remained distant when around people he didn’t know and even more distant around women because he found them annoying and couldn’t understand their petty problems and bursts of drama over ‘nothing.’ He was a year older than Yoochun, though he attended the same school and some of the same classes. In her opinion he was also better looking than Yoochun, but despite their four months of living together he still pretty much ignored her. He and Yoochun alternated nights taking care of dinner which left Boa without much to worry about in terms of food, and although Yunho wasn’t the greatest cook he at least had better taste than Yoochun who simply put together rice or a bowl of ramen most nights.

Yoochun was much more relaxed then his roommate. He eased tensions in the apartment and was generally good-humored and good-natured. He had just turned 20 and fooled around considerably more than Yunho although the two were close friends and had been for several years since they met in high school. He did the majority of the cleaning around the house because Yunho’s work kept him out late and Yoochun had more time at home. He liked to compose, but they obviously couldn’t afford a piano so instead he would write things up at home on his spare time and then go out to a local music store on weekends and practice there until the owner kicked him out. In Boa’s opinion he was too nice for his own good, just like her pathetic excuse for a brother.

All three kept to themselves a good deal of the time. Yunho was always busy or focused on something that kept his attention away from conversation. Yoochun was friendly but kept his personal life private and spent a good amount of time locked up in his room. Boa was simply never home. She found the apartment suffocating although she had no other choice. She needed money and could barely pay for the rent. For the moment Boa was out at a café. The people around were annoying her but she didn’t have anything else to do and besides she needed to think.

She needed to get out of the city. Her family was being as frustrating as ever. She would have asked them for money, but her parents refused to speak to her. Her brother, tragically nice as he was, talked to her briefly when she called but also had a flaw that made him disgustingly loyal. Her parents had made him promise not to help her, and so he wouldn’t. All he would do was sigh and tell her that she had to figure out things on her own and that he knew she could do it. Damn him and his fucking morals. Sighing she took another sip of her now cold cup of coffee, frowning at the bitter taste. She’d forgotten sugar she noted absently.

As she looked up her eyes fell upon a man carrying a baby. The thing was screaming bloody murder and the man was struggling just to keep from dropping it, let alone keep it quiet. She laughed a little at the sight. Men were so ill-equipped to handle children. Not that she ever wanted to have any. They were annoying and troublesome and she definitely didn’t need that to ruin her life. Cost the parents a bundle too.

Boa’s fine, plucked eyebrows knit together thoughtfully. Children really did cost a lot didn’t they?

-end of chapter 1-

[so i hope it wasn't too bad. please point out any errors you find. if you aren't sure how the prologue and the first chapter connect i promise it will make sense all in good time. i really hope i can finish this one, i know i don't have the best record for that because im so busy. ah, yes. changmin will show up a little bit but not much (sorry to his fans!). im trying to find a way to fit him in more so we'll see. age here is kind of important, so know that at this point, Yoochun is 20, and Yunho is 21. Boa is also about 20 but she is younger than Yoochun. i do know that junhee is not her name, there was a reason behind that, and know that the prologue happens after the events in chapter 1. comments are love! and here are some pictures of the characters we've met so far (this is about how they look in the fic).]

lets not forget the adorable Inhwan!

Bedtime Stories

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 06:14:45 GMT

Title: How the Camel Got His Hump
Pairing: JayChul
Genre: fluff/crack?
Rating: PG 13 (sexual implications)
Word Count: 856
Characters: Heechul as the Camel, Eeteuk as the Horse, Donghae as the Dog, Kangin as the Ox, Jay as the magical Jinn
Explanation: I decided to do a small project and turn a couple of short children's bedtime stories into fics. The plots vary greatly and I will use whatever pairing I feel fits. I'm not sure how many of these I will be doing, but here is the first one. Keep in mind that this is taken almost directly from the actual story, with just a few things switched around. The characterization will probably seem a little weird, and the writing is very simple because ITS A CHILDRENS STORY. Creds for plot go to various authors. If you would like to see what the actual story says, ask me and I'll post it up separately. I hope this is at least a little funny? Anyway Sweet Dreams!

Now this is the next tale, and it tells how the Camel (Heechul) got his big hump.

In 2005, when the group Super Junior had just recently been formed, and all 12 boys were just starting to perform together, there was Heechul, and he stayed in the apartment that the Super Junior boys shared because he did not want to work, and besides, he was too pretty anyway. So he walked around fixing his hair and complimenting himself, doing absolutely no work; and when anybody spoke to him he said “Humph!” Just “Humph!” and no more.

Presently Eeteuk came to him on Monday morning, wearing clothes that were comfortable and easy to move around in, and said, “Heechul it’s time for dance practice. Please come out and dance with the rest of us.”

“Humph!” said Heechul, and Eeteuk went away and told the Manager.

Presently Donghae came to him, with a soccer ball in his hands, and said, “Heechul we’re going to Camp Adonis. Come and play with the kids with the rest of us.”

“Humph!” said Heechul, and Donghae went away and told the Manager.

Presently Kangin came to him, dressed up nicely in a formal suit, and said, “Heechul we’re giving an interview today. You have to come out and talk to the fans with the rest of us.”

“Humph!” said Heechul, and Kangin went away and told the Manager.

At the end of the day the Manager called Eeteuk and Donghae and Kangin and the rest of Super Junior together, and said, “Boys I’m very sorry for you—with Super Junior just being formed and all—but that Humphing-Heechul in your apartment can’t work, or he would have been here by now, so I am going to leave him alone, and you must work double time to make up for it.”

That made the Super Junior boys very angry (with Super Junior just being formed and all), and they all got together to discus it outside their apartment, and Heechul came along fixing his hair and doing absolutely no work and laughed at them. Then he said “Humph!” and went away again.

Presently there came along Jay from the TRAX, looking very awesome and sexy (Jay always walks around looking like that because he simply can’t help but be sexy), and he stopped to chat with the Super Junior boys.

“Jay from the TRAX,” said Eeteuk, “is it right for someone to refuse to do work, with Super Junior just being formed and all?”

“Of course not,” said Jay.

“Well,” said Eeteuk, “Heechul is still in our apartment and he hasn’t done a stroke of work since Monday morning. He won’t dance.”

“Whew!” said Jay, whistling. “That’s definitely my Heechul. What does he say about it?”

“He says, ‘Humph!’ ” said Donghae, “and he won’t play with the kids at Camp Adonis.”

“Does he say anything else?”

“Only ‘Humph!’ And he won’t go to our interview,” said Kangin.

“Very good,” said Jay. “I’ll ‘humph’ him if you will kindly wait a minute.”

Jay made sure he was looking very awesome and sexy and went into Super Junior’s apartment and found Heechul doing absolutely no work at all, looking at himself in a big mirror in the hallway.

“My very pretty boyfriend,” said Jay, “what’s this I hear of your doing no work, with Super Junior just being formed and all?”

“Humph!” said Heechul.

Jay sat down with his chin in his hand and began to think of a plan, while Heechul looked at himself in the mirror.

“You’ve given the Super Junior boys extra work since Monday morning, all on account of your doing absolutely no work at all,” said Jay, and he went on thinking of a plan with his chin in his hand.

“Humph!” said Heechul.

“I wouldn’t say that again if I were you,” said Jay. “You might say it once too often. Heechul, you really ought to do some work.”

And Heechul said “Humph!” again. But no sooner had he said it than Jay grabbed him and dragged him into a closet and humped him and grinded against him and made out with him until they were both out of breath.

“Do you see that?” said Jay. “That’s your very own ‘humph’ that you’ve brought upon your very own self by not working. Today is Thursday, and you’ve done no work since Monday, when the work began. Now you are going to work.”

“How can I,” said Heechul, “after you just humped me in a closet?”

“I did that on purpose,” said Jay, “all because you missed those three days. I won’t hump you again until you do some work. Come out of the apartment and go be with the Super Junior boys, and behave.

And Heechul sighed and went away to join the Super Junior boys. And from that day to this Heechul only gets humped for doing his work (we call it humphed, so we don’t sound so perverted), but he has never yet caught up with the three days that he missed when Super Junior first debuted, and he has never yet learned how to behave.

Tilted World

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 02:42:23 GMT

Title: Tilted World
Pairing: Yoosu (Junsu's POV)
Length: oneshot
Genre: uh... romance, kinda? fluff. im bad with genres
Rating: R for one part i guess, but mostly PGish i think
Summary: a couple precious moments
Disclaimer: i don't own them O_o

(what is this? i really dont know. i was reading a couple fics earlier today that were really awesome, and it inspired this not so awesome oneshot-like thingy. maybe youll enjoy it anyway?)

You tilt your head sideways, slowly, until your bangs are hanging down across your chocolate brown eyes and you have to look through the soft brown strands to see. You tilt your head sideways, but the world is only a little bit interesting from this point of view until he catches you staring at him from the corner of his eye and tilts his head too, making a mimic of himself, and grinning at you foolishly in your tilted little world. You know it’s a grin of amusement because you must have this embarrassingly thoughtful look on your face, the one you always get when you’re too caught up in memorizing everything about him: the way he sits, leaned back casually in his chair as if everything were right with the world, the way he laughs, arms crossed lazily over his chest, lightly and in a way that’s much too high to fit with the low rumble that is his voice, the way he can always feel you looking at him, as if he had a sense for such a thing, an instinct constantly urging him to look up and meet your gaze. He grins at you, and the room brightens. And you grin back.

You’re standing close in the crowded room, talking comfortably with lights shining in both your eyes from the excitement of yet another successful performance. It’s not until someone expresses a request to move past you and he takes a step forward that the shock of the closeness hits you. For only the briefest of moments his hips tap lightly against yours, a sturdy hand braced behind you as he leans in to make room for who-ever it is behind him, effectively trapping you between the hard wall behind you and his not so hard body. Well, mostly not so hard. Your eyes widen a little unconsciously, your breath hitching in surprise, and you have to thank god that the room is too loud for him to have heard, even though you’re sure your warm breath on his cheek has already given you away. An intensity of feeling rushes through you and a foreign tingling sensation rises up through your body leaving goose bumps all over your skin even as all your blood shoots southward in a wave. He pushes back away from the wall, giving you back your space and still wearing the same smile and you have to wonder if it was just your imagination that he pressed forward a little before pulling away. You let out your breath and smile back, warm and only slightly nervous as you both ignore the soft blushes rising on each others cheeks. There are still lights shining in his eyes.

There’s a fire burning in your chest and you know he can see the flames flickering behind your eyes as he pushes himself against you, into you. The anger from earlier boils beneath your skin, making you sweat, and you wonder if he can feel how hot you are inside, if he knows how hot he is as he fills you. Tears of frustration sting in your eyes and you wrap your arms tightly around him, pulling your body up against his and burying your face in his shoulder as sticky warmth runs between you and slides a little down your sides. A sense of relief takes over you as the anger dissipates and exhaustion replaces it, but you are still crying, tears that no longer have meaning running down your flushed cheeks. He is confused and concerned but hides it behind adoring eyes as he presses soft kisses to your eyelids and temple and murmurs soothing words against your skin as it cools. You focus on your breathing until your chest is rising and falling in sync with his and wonder why you were ever so angry to begin with.

You wake up early, so warm and comfortable in his arms that you almost can’t force yourself to get up. As you ease yourself out of his light embrace he mumbles incoherently and shifts his body, pulling up his knees and curling up slightly, his short, dark bangs falling into his face. You’re hit with a tangle of emotions as you witness this priceless moment, the most prominent being awe at how vulnerable and innocent and beautiful he is when he sleeps. You shower then, because as harmless as walking around covered in the mess you both made last night seems, it really is kind of disgusting. An hour later finds you out on the small apartment balcony, enjoying the soft warmth of the sunlight at six o’clock as you lean against the wooden railing and watch the world wake up around you, a steaming cup of coffee wrapped in your hands. Your hair is already soft and dry by the time he wakes up. You are so lost in thought that you miss the gentle rattle of the glass door as it slides open and then shut, followed by the light thud of footsteps. It’s not until two strong arms are wrapping themselves around you and his body is pressing comfortably against yours that you realize he’s joined you.

“Mmmm.” He breathes quietly, sighing gently and letting his head rest on your shoulder. “Morning Su.” You smile and decide that his voice is even deeper and more unconsciously seductive when heavy with sleep. You tilt your head sideways and twist your body in his arms, answering his mumbled words with a kiss that’s full of unspoken ‘I love yous’. He rests his forehead against yours, a content smile on his face, and you both taste laughter as you dissolve into giggles before he kisses you again, teasing and playful and more awake now that the fresh air is getting to him. And this time the world tilts for you.

-end-

(not too horrible hopefully? again not really sure where this came from. please point out errors if you find them. comments are love!)