sessho08: ([KAT-TUN] Jin - your mind (irony~))
[personal profile] sessho08
...Homin drabbles dump! Except they're not exactly drabbles? More like ideas fleshed out just a bit. Also, everything is pretty strange and what isn't, is silly or downright cracky instead. So yup, you've been warned? (And yes, I am aware that most of this stuff sounds like prologues of sorts but I'm not really planning on continuing any of these.)
So yeah, all Homin, mostly AU, rating ranging from G to R and word count from 300 to over 1000. Enjoy? :>


1. Poison | AU | 595 words | PG


Yunho’s twenty-six years old when he gets diagnosed with addiction to people.

“It’s a rare condition,” they say, stern-faced men in long white lab coats and a bored conviction in their voices. “It’s not normal to love people this much.” A grim promise of a treatment.

Changmin is twenty-four and he doesn’t know, Yunho doesn’t tell him. He only learns when it’s a day before Yunho’s supposed to be taken away to the medical facility for further examinations.

Yunho sits him down on the couch, takes a place across him on a worn-out comfortable armchair. He lays a gentle palm on the back of Changmin’s hand.

“I’ve got something important to tell you,” he murmurs, a bit too quiet, a bit too sombre and Changmin’s afraid – he doesn’t want to know, he needs to learn what this is about with desperate urgency.

“Changmin, I may be sick,” the words sound like a sentence but it’s what follows that truly is. “I’m leaving for treatment tomorrow—“ he intercepts the assertion before it makes it out of Changmin’s mouth, “—and you can’t go with.”

He’s confused, he’s outraged, he rejects the mere notion.

“I can and I will,” he argues but Yunho will have none of it. He explains – tries to, his attempts feeble and unconvincing since he’s in the dark himself.

“It’s yet mostly uncharted territory, it seems,” he continues and Changmin doesn’t care, doesn’t give a damn. It’s ridiculous, it’s silly, how can one be addicted to people, how is that a medical condition, it’s not a disease, it’s just feelings, it’s normal, it’s supposed to be like this, he rationalises.
Yunho stays deaf to his arguments as he stays deaf to his pleas that come next.

“It’s in my blood. The doctors said so. It may be dangerous. I may be dangerous. I won’t hazard putting you in risk,” he’s fierce and adamant and Changmin knows he already lost this battle but he won’t surrender.
He won’t but he knows it to be for naught – Yunho will do everything for him, if he thinks it’ll keep him safe. Changmin doesn’t want to be safe right now, he just wants Yunho not to leave tomorrow, he just needs Yunho to stay.

It’s the end of discussion, though, Yunho already reaching for his face, framing it in his hands and coaxing a kiss out of Changmin’s lips. It’s cheating and normally Changmin would not let him, would not let his anger, his fear, his confusion to be redirected this way but he can’t get “tomorrow” out of his mind. It rings in his head, ominous and heavy and terrifying and he needs to drown it out, with the frantic beat of his heart, of Yunho’s heart instead.

He lets himself be led up and then to the right, his lips still captured by Yunho’s, his steps unsteady. He lets himself be lay down on the bed and taken once and then again.

When he finally falls asleep, it’s with his hand held in Yunho’s, the grip of his graceful fingers anything but. It almost hurts but the ignores the prickles of pain, draws comfort from them.

When they wake up and it’s time, it’s Yunho that has problems with letting go. Changmin squeezes his hand back, almost hopeful for the shortest of moments but then the sound of the doorbell interrupts the companionable silence, stepping on his hope and taking Yunho away with it.

He curls up on the floor, the hiccupping inhales and exhales of his breath the only thing that’s still alright.



2. Imperfect | AU | 498 words | G | Slightly inspired by the Android concept, I suppose? (I don't remember exactly.)


“And this, this is our newest addition. Unfortunately it’s dysfunctional,” says the man, pointing to a doll looking like a young man in his early twenties.

“Really? How so?” Yunho takes in the doll’s appearance, not noticing anything out of ordinary.

“It thinks it’s a human. Speaking in human terms, you could liken it to being slightly mentally disturbed, I guess.”

“Oh. Then what happens with it now? Are you going to dispose of it?”

“Most probably, yes.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not exactly. While, as you know, our creations are dolls, they’re still bound by the first and the third out of The Three Laws. Also, they’re not equipped in any kind of weapons, they possess an average human’s strength. So while the board agreed it’s most probably not going to harm anyone, we still aren’t sure how exactly it will behave. It would certainly be more erratic than it’s expected or allowed and we can’t risk that. Still, it’s a pity – it is our newest creation, after all. Quite a waste of resources. But surely, as the owner you would know, sir.”

Yunho gives a sheepish laugh. “Ahh, not really? It’s only the capital that’s mine. Honestly, I’m not very apt at technology. Surely, if grandfather saw how I came out, he’d be rather ashamed that I’m not carrying out his legacy the way I should.” The scientist politely doesn’t comment on that.

“There’s one thing that’s caught my eye, though,” Yunho continues, partly to get rid of slightly awkward now atmosphere. “It’s not exactly a classical beauty, is it? I mean, it’s still appealing but not what I remember them to look like?” He studies the doll’s face, lets his gaze sweep over the big, sticking out ears, the prominent nose, the wide mouth.

“Ah, yes, that’s a good remark. You see, sir, the studies showed that in the long run, perfection deters people. So we’ve changed our policies regarding the dolls’ visuals, opting for including flaws as well,” the man smiles a little wryly.

“…I think I’ll take this one for myself,” Yunho declares. It’s a spur of the moment decision and it surprises him almost as much as it does his companion.

“Are you sure, Mr. Jung? We don’t know if it’s hundred percent safe. I wouldn’t advise it.”

“Didn’t you say so yourself just now, though? Perfection is boring,” he smiles brilliantly. “And I’m pretty sure my security staff will be enough to ensure that nothing wrong happens,” he takes a step in the doll’s direction.

“I’m adamant, sir,” the man protests.

“So am I,” Yunho’s beams at him even more brightly. The scientist sighs.

“As you wish, sir.”

“Does it — he have a name?” it occurs to him to inquire right then.

“Yes. It’s ‘Changmin’.”

Changmin,” Yunho lets it roll in his mouth. “Did he name himself?”

“Yes, it did.”

“Okay, so now the time for the boring stuff, I guess? DNA and all. To adjust the energy source to my lifespan?”



3. R.I.P | AU | 1,261 words | G | This idea came to me somewhere during my exams, I think? Or the preparations for them. (This gratuitous info's supposed to explain the first sentence to you.)


You’ll rest when you’re dead, they told him when after months of overworking, barely managing to catch an hour or two of sleep at the strange time that was neither night nor day, of struggling with depression and exhaustion creeping up on him, he finally found it in him to plead for a short break.
You’ll rest when you’re dead, they told him, half-joking but he saw the seriousness in their eyes. And so he took his chance.

Now, standing at something that brings to mind all train stations he has seen in his life (including the one he picked as the place of his death) and yet nowhere in particular, he decides that it was probably yet one more bad choice in his (now ended) life.

He looks around, half-curious, half-annoyed, a heavy suitcase weighing him down. He doesn’t remember having any on him before on that day. Or did he lose the sense of time once he died and it’s been a long time in reality? He doesn’t know. He’s not sure if it matters.

He stores the details of the location in his head – the walls painted in boring, inconspicuous colours, the slightly dirty floors, the tracks, a lone trash bin visible a bit further on the platform. His hand starting to hurt from the tight grip he has on the baggage, he sets to putting it on the floor when a boyish, warm voice stops him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” it warns him and he whips his head to the side from which the words are coming from. The man speaking is young – in his twenties at most. He’s also remarkably tall and his hair is short, a bit scruffy and, unlike Changmin’s own, dyed into a shade of dark brown. He has a small, rather handsome face which’s currently adorned with a little, sincere looking smile.
Coupled with his words – and the fact that the platform’s empty if not for them two, it makes Changmin gather his courage and ask the burning question.

“Why? And, more importantly, what’s this place?” he adjusts the grip on his suitcase.
The little motion doesn’t escape his companion, judging by the way Changmin catches him flick his gaze up from his hand to his face but it only results in the quirk of his lips becoming more—encouraging?

“It may come in handy later and things get lost so easily here,” he answers and Changmin frowns lightly at the vagueness of his words. “As for this place – it doesn’t have any official name, at least not one that I’d know of—“ he continues, his eyes not leaving Changmin’s silhouette, “—but some call it ‘purgatory’ and I myself think it suits quite well, too.” That smile again.

Changmin gapes. “Purgatory? But I don’t even believe in it. Or in any God,” he retorts. “Not sure if I believe you either,” he eyes the man with doubt but… He remembers jumping in front of the train. He remembers the split second-long impact and the pain that lasted for a moment after his body got hit and until he lost consciousness, lost his life. He was hoping there’s nothing such as “afterlife” – concept he has always found hard to trust and, honestly speaking, quite ridiculous. But if he’s standing here, in this odd, devoid of people place even though by all means he should be dead… It may mean that, as reluctant he is to admit it, the man speaks the truth.

“Oh, then it’d actually explain a lot?” his companion’s smile broadens. “People mostly end up here if they died not believing in God or left the other world too early than they were supposed to. You may just belong to the first group!” he beams at Changmin as if it was a subject that allowed for such enthusiasm. Maybe it is, for all Changmin knows. Which, he’s afraid, may not be much after all. “And if it were true, then it could help us greatly in finding out what’s your first job, too.”

“…Job,” he echoes, his voice dripping with disbelief. “Mine. My first job.”

“Yes. By the way, it’s my job to welcome you and show you around here. But, ah!” he exclaims, apparently recalling something, “I didn’t even introduce myself yet, did I? I’m Yunho, nice to meet you,” he says, crossing the distance separating them in several steady steps with his hand already extended as he stops in front of Changmin.

“Changmin,” he accepts the handshake a bit warily and Yunho’s face lights up just a bit more as he gives his hand a squeeze.
He’s grateful when Yunho retreats first, proclaiming.

“So, now that it’s done with, we can board the train while it’s still here.”

“…Which train?” he hazards a question, the station as empty as it was since he suddenly found himself on it.

“This one, of course,” Yunho points at the tracks and sure enough, when Changmin abruptly turns his head to look in said direction for the first time since the conversation began, there is a train stopped.
“I didn’t hear it at all,” he starts feebly, wondering how he could’ve missed its arrival.

“Don’t worry, no one hears it,” Yunho makes a gesture of vague comfort. “But I really think we should get on before it leaves,” his tone still remains pleasant but there’s a note of urgency in it now and Changmin decides to comply and save his further inquires for when they’re already inside.

They board the train, Yunho pressing the button to open the door and trying to let Changmin go first, except he won’t have any of it so eventually it’s Yunho and a short moment of hesitance later Changmin as well.

Once he’s stepped inside, the door immediately closes automatically and not even ten seconds pass until the train’s in motion. He recognises the fact only by the scenery behind the windows changing, the platform rapidly moving away in utter silence, giving place to a dark tunnel.

“Sit down, Changmin. …Can I call you that? Or maybe something else, like Changminnie? I wonder if I’m older than you.” Yunho starts chattering as he flops down on one of the seats.

“Changmin,” he answers quickly – even his friends didn’t get to call him ‘Changminnie’ - and he hovers over his companion feeling very stupid as he tries to decide which seat to take. Finally he sits down gingerly across Yunho, putting his suitcase on the seat next to him. It turns out to be a mistake when he becomes aware that in his attempt to avoid physical contact, he exposed himself to Yunho’s earnest, expectant gaze.

“---red,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What? I didn’t get you,” the man leans a bit forward, curiosity apparent in his voice.

“I’m tired,” he repeats, louder now and while this is mostly a poorly masked plea for space, in this moment he realises that he indeed is. Suddenly exhaustion drops on him, very real, heavy and almost tangible.

“Oh. Oh—“ Yunho’s eyes widen in understanding and he smiles a bit sheepishly as he moves away and changes his position so he’s not looking at Changmin anymore.

Changmin feels his own eyelids get heavy and even though he knows he should struggle against it and that he has no specific reason to believe so, he lets the wave of tiredness wash over him and his eyelids close, trusting Yunho to wake him up when they reach their destination. A moment later he’s already asleep.



4. Stretched thin | 951 words | G | Silly concept. Inspired by the rumoured LA quarrel? ...And I actually wanted to finish this one but my inspiration and drive disappeared as suddenly as they came to me.


Like a plastic shopping bag stretched too wide around groceries, it finally breaks.

He ignores the tale-tell signs – how luck-luster Yunho’s smile was after his last joke, how he kept calling him merely with “Changmin-ah” for last few days, even in private - no changes, no endearments. And if the said joke happened to be at Yunho’s expense… He knows that Changmin doesn’t mean it, not really, doesn’t he. Yunho understands.
This is bag’s handle getting thinner and longer and starting to bite into his hand.

He ignores this because while it’s more of his domain, Yunho has his mood swings too and well, there are more important things to worry about. This happens –is annoying when it does but it does. Yunho’s been less bubbly lately but if it were something that actually required Changmin’s attention, Changmin’s help, he’d know.
Noticing the slightest hint of a hole at the bottom and disregarding it because he’s in a hurry and it’s still fine, it’ll surely last one more time.

Several days later and it still continues. Changmin’s starting to feel confused but with all the flying around, time zones incessantly changing, schedules that need to be gone through and new songs that need to be memorised soon, there’s just no time for a proper conversation. They’re not the ones to hold “proper conversations” anyway, the two of them. They understand each other without words, can read the other’s feelings from his face. It’s not alarming, he tells his self that’s looking at him from the mirror above the sink, toothbrush still in his hand. He’s not surprised when his reflection doesn’t look all that convinced.
Packing the groceries into the bag, realising how much things he has to stuff into it, as well as the fact that everything is necessary and can’t be possibly put away for next time.

Yunho doesn’t tell him when he goes out with friends. Oh, he leaves a note, that he does but it’s placed among other papers and when Changmin finally finds it, he’s pissed off. It’s not that he was worried or anything but it’s childish. Even if Yunho’s mad at something, at someone, at him, this was irresponsible. And annoying, God, is Changmin irritated now. When he gets over his anger, though, he’s aware of one thing. He can’t delude himself anymore – there is something on.
The bag stretching down under the excess weight, making him quicken his step.

Finally, they have a fight. It’s been long in the making but it still starts off innocently and quickly evolves into something ugly and spiteful and one word too many (multiplied by hundred and then some more). Changmin says something, Yunho says something back, only he doesn’t say - he barks it out and surely Changmin’s line didn’t warrant such a reply, he knows when he’s just gone too far and this wasn’t one of such cases. He’s quick to anger and Yunho answers with some of his own and it’s not quick for him, it’s what has been simmering in him finally boiling and spilling over the edges.
It’s a screaming match, one in which they both boast the volumes of their voices and with the content that their neighbours surely should be spared of but neither bothers with such details right then.
It ends with both of them panting heavily from exertion and fury and the bitter taste of being unable to reach any conclusion. They go to bed– separate beds - way too deep into the night, considering how they’re supposed to catch a morning flight.
This is “Oh shit, I really should’ve taken a spa—“, a frantic thought cut off in the middle as the abused plastic finally gives out and all the groceries go tumbling on the pavement, spreading wide or breaking the moment they hit the ground.

Most of the next day is spent in the plane. Of course, they get designated the adjoined seats and if the twelve hours that follow aren’t the most awkward time of Changmin’s life, then they’re still pretty high on the list. They sit close enough for their arms to almost touch and while normally the “almost” part would get scratched fifteen minutes or so into the flight, it doesn’t happen this time. They make sure to stay apart and they keep gazing anywhere but not at each other. The obligatory photograph before the plane takes off comes out not right as well. Yunho leans into him like he usually does but he doesn’t take his sunglasses off and while Changmin has to look into the camera so he can’t be certain, he’s pretty sure he isn’t the smiling the way he himself isn’t either.

Los Angeles is bright and brilliant and brimming with life and Changmin surrenders himself to the city and its charms, determined to make the most of it and to have fun, the issue with Yunho solved or not.
In the hotel, they mostly avoid each other – which’s all the easier as they’re staying in separate rooms. And when Changmin does stumble upon Yunho, it’s quiet and stilted, the afterimages of their argument still heavy in the air. They tiptoe around each other and it’s annoying and it’s depressing, it’s many things, none of them what Changmin would like them to be.
The day of the concert comes too quickly. Yunho gives him a cold shoulder during the press conference and while Changmin doesn’t really care about public appearances, it still manages to bother him and make him feel uncomfortable. There’s no usual easy banter either and while it’s to be expected, he still finds it to be much more amiss than he thought it would be.



5. Four people Yunho hugged during SMTown and one he didn’t | 437 words | G | This was a fruit of a certain conversation with [livejournal.com profile] curaga. From several months ago, lol. I had more of this one planned out and maybe it'd even end up actually finished but I lost the paper I noted down everything on and with it - my motivation.


1. Yoona’s there, gazing at surrounding them fans with warmth in her eyes, with warmth that Yunho too feels, that he has to share before it starts burning. He reaches out with hesitation. Yoona’s beautifully manicuired hand is slim and deceptively fragile when he takes it in his own, much bigger one, traced with callouses.

She’s not only beautiful but kind as well. She’s just the right kind of a girl.
It doesn’t happen often but Yunho still sometimes regrets that it’s not enough for him, that it’s not the kind of ‘right’ he needs.

***

5. Changmin’s standing with his arms open wide, his face lighted up with the most brilliant of smiles. Seconds later he’s got an armful of a young, enthusiastic boy who doesn’t bother with hiding the twin grin that’s adorning his face. In this moment, simultaneously so intimate and yet public, it’s like the whole stage is theirs alone. Carefree, uninhibited. When they part, it’s both with slight reluctance and joy. It’s still lingering afterwards when they embrace and head to where most of their fellow artists are gathering, their hands still resting on each other’s backs.

Yunho smiles and right when he’s finally about to avert his gaze, the two reach Kyuhyun. The whole venue becomes a witness to yet one more beautiful embrace. The trio spins lightly, tripping a bit, but not caring, not caring at all. Their arms are stretched over not one, but two backs, their fingers trying to reach just a bit further, succeeding, tightening the hug even more, their heads bowed down together. They separate, throwing their heads back in a mirthful laugh that Yunho can still hear, even over the ever-present ecstatic turmoil and noise. (He can still hear it.)


He finds Changmin before the final song ends and together they wave and bow, their hands resting lightly at each other’s backs. Yunho’s palm twitches, tightens for the shortest of moments but it’s not lost on the younger man. Changmin throws him a questioning look and Yunho musters a smile. It’s not hard, really. It’s not dishonest (it very rarely is). Still, (he knows, he understands but sometimes, sometimes he can’t help it,--) he hopes that it’s enough and almost breathes out with relief when Changmin smiles back, his eyes crinkling.

Because it isn’t just idle talk for the magazines – Changmin knows and understands as well, he notices and Yunho could never force on him these feelings, these needs, he could never make him feel like he has to cross the line for him.



6. Plastic Love | 319 words | R | Late night crack. Totally [livejournal.com profile] isaofdoom and [livejournal.com profile] curaga and their nipples convos' fault, okay :| (and [livejournal.com profile] gwen_potter's too, I guess.) I'm innocent.


yunho wakes up one morning and decides it's a perfect day for sex. every day is a perfect day for sex but today seems to be even more so. it's screaming at him "go get him tiger! be wild," and yunho's not the one to argue with such brilliant suggestions.
he reaches over to where changmin's lying with his back towards him, clinging to a huge pillow - yunho's pillow - like a koala bear.

he loosens changmin's hold on the captivated object, fortunately not waking the other in the process. changmin merely mumbles something unintellegible and remains asleep. having more access now, yunho eases his hand down changmin's buttoned down collar, sliding it over changmin's smooth, smooth chest, aiming for the nipples. and aiming. undeterred, he takes a different approach, directs his attention to changmin's ear, nips lightly first at them, then at changmin's slender tempting neck as well. his lover finally stirs, showing the signs of consciousness.

yunho decides that if changmin's already awake, he can as well get a bit bolder. he eases his free hand past the band of the pants of changmin's pajamas, planning on wrapping it around changmin's glorious cock and jerking him off slowly and luxuriously until he's squirming in his hold, moaning wantonly.

his genius plan is interrupted when he slides his hand inside and encounters only smoothness. not of the pleasant variety either. changmin's cock is just not there.
he yells in surprise, retracting his limb quickly. changmin jolts fully awake and glares at him when yunho first pushes him back and then starts stripping him rapidly.

"yunho, what the fuck are you doing?!" he barks out in indignation but yunho's not in the right state of mind to answer him. he continues ripping at the younger man's clothes until he's completely naked and it's clear. there's nothing. no nipples, no cock.

"changmin!" he chokes out, "you're a ken doll!"





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