The Genesis of Kim Joonmyun
Title: The Genesis of Kim Joonmyun
Pairing: sulay
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1691 words
Summary: Kim Joonmyun's existence hangs on a thread wrapped around Yixing's finger.
Epilogue
This is a story, not a fairy tale.
Although not all stories have happy endings, we can scratch out the parts we don't like and write our wishes in the margins.
Chapter 5: Snow Globes
At odd times in the night, when Joonmyun is softly snoring, Yixing wakes up to study the sleeping face of the man lying next to him. Yixing traces the dips and the curves and the lines of Joonmyun’s body, and every time he revels at his marble creation.
After all, it is Yixing who shapes the bubbles of Joonmyun’s laughter, who paints the colors of Joonmyun’s smiles, and who takes Joonmyun’s steady hand and places it against his rapidly beating heart until their pulses line up.
Joonmyun, in short, is Yixing.
Sometimes it saddens Yixing that Joonmyun will cease to exist at Yixing’s last breath. It’s not fair to him that their fates are intertwined. And Joonmyun is always about fairness.
”Why are you awake?” Joonmyun asks, his voice rough from sleepiness.
Yixing cups his cheek in his hand, pressing a warm kiss to Joonmyun’s forehead. “It’s nothing. Everything is just a dream anyway.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Joonmyun says between yawns, “but this isn’t a dream. It’s reality.”
“But this is the reality I created,” Yixing smiles sadly.
With that said, he pulls Joonmyun into his arms and holds him tightly. As long as he can hold him, Joonmyun is real enough.
Chapter 4: Icarus
"Fancy napkins," Yixing observes.
As trivial as it is, he's right. They're cloth napkins, embroidered with golden thread.
"I wanted to take you out somewhere nice," Joonmyun smiles, "to celebrate my promotion."
Promotion, Yixing thinks, of course he got a promotion.
They only know how to soar higher and higher, each day more perfect than the last. What will happen when they finally reach the sun? It wasn't kind to Icarus, after all.
Yixing sets down his glass of wine and inclines his head towards the sky. He can see Joonmyun's distorted reflection in the restaurant window. "Look at the stars."
Sometimes Yixing rearranges the stars so they spell Joonmyun's name. Guilt gnaws at him because he knows he's cheating. He's whittling away reality so his dreams can slip through the cracks, but it's addicting.
All Yixing ever wanted was to be loved. To have Joonmyun press his lips against Yixing's forehead and whisper sweet nothings in his ear means everything to Yixing. He feels warm, wanted, loved.
Is that so bad?
Yixing ignores his gurgling stomach as they connect the twinkling dots and find conversations in the constellations.
Chapter 3: Cookie Cutters
Through perseverance and an embarrassing number of cheap ballpoint pens, Joonmyun and Yixing live contently in their domestic bliss. Joonmyun finally has that flashy department advisor job with whispers of bonuses and promotions, and Yixing feeds him with each stroke of the pen. Their relationship is a symbiotic one.
(In truth, Joonmyun is a parasite living inside of Yixing's heart, but Yixing insists that's where he belongs.)
Once upon a time Yixing would have spent his days chasing down mosquitoes who stole a part of him with every interview. He works for the local paper, the one nobody reads or even knows about, as a freelance writer. Back then, every word he wrote was a grain of rice.
Now Yixing has made a home out of Joonmyun's upscale apartment. He occasionally scratches out a short article for the newspaper for extra pocket money, usually for sending flowers to Joonmyun's office because he adores horribly cheesy gestures like that.
Meanwhile, Yixing's old apartment collects dust and debts, but he has long ago shed that life, an ugly chrysalis.
When Joonmyun comes home from work, Yixing dotes on him. He's already cooked Joonmyun's favorite meal and has his clothes in the washing machine and his hands are instantly kneading the kinks out of his shoulders.
"How was work today?"
"Corporate is breathing down my back," Joonmyun sighs, "but the flowers you sent really brightened up my day. Thanks."
Yixing starts humming a tune, some folk song his mother always sang many years ago. He checks to see if dinner is ready.
It is.
But Yixing forgets how the rest of the song goes, and another pre-Joonmyun memory fades into oblivion.
Chapter 2: Equivalent Exchange
Since Joonmyun lives off of the tips he scrapes off of grubby customers, his idea of going out is inhabiting the corner table of a fast food burger joint. Joonmyun grabs a handful of napkins more than necessary and an entire dining set of plastic forks. It saves money if he doesn’t have to buy napkins and utensils, he explains to a curious Yixing.
“Once I graduate and get a real job, I’ll be able to buy as many napkins as I want. I want the cloth kind, embroidered with golden thread,” Joonmyun says between bites of his cheeseburger, “and I’ll also treat you to a real meal.”
Yixing chomps on a fistful of french fries, golden and shiny with grease, and swallows before saying, “You didn’t have to take me out for lunch.”
Joonmyun gives him a look. “Of course I had to. It was only fair.”
“I gave you a tissue.”
“You gave me more than that.”
Yes, I gave you life.
Chapter 1: What Could Have Been
Joonmyun glances at his watch. Ten minutes until 4. His shift at the restaurant is going to start soon. He takes one last glance at the park fountain and thinks wistfully that, just once, he would like to skip a day of work to sit and admire the beauty of the park. Just once to stop and smell the roses and breathe in their scent.
Instead, he grabs his bag and makes a run for it. From the park to the restaurant is a 20-minute walking distance. If he makes a few shortcuts and sells his soul to the devil, there’s a possibility Joonmyun can make it to work on time.
However, he makes a slight miscalculation as his body hurtles toward a tree. Momentum has it that he isn’t able to completely stop before impact, but he manages to wrench his body out of the way-and straight into a bush.
A stranger runs up to him. “Are you hurt?”
Joonmyun groans. When he touches the wet sensation on his philtrum, he groans again at how it stains his fingers red.
“I can’t go to work like this,” Joonmyun says, panic rising in his voice.
The stranger digs into his backpack to grab a pack of travel tissues. He hands one to Joonmyun and instructs, “Use this. Tilt your head forward to allow the blood to drain forward, and apply pressure by squeezing your nostrils.”
Joonmyun does what he’s told, looks at his watch, and sighs, “I guess I’m skipping work.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Still, it’s unfortunate.”
Joonmyun looks at the stranger, who’s actually pretty cute, with a bloody smile. “This doesn’t have to be some massive tragedy. How about if I take you out instead? That'll be our happy ending to this little mishap.”
Alternate Ending
But the pages had all been ripped out from the weathered spine. Paper carcasses were left out to slowly decompose. The unforgiving sun bleached their bones and faded their inky tattoos until there was no story at all.
Chapter 1: What Is
Joonmyun glances at his watch. Ten minutes until 4. His shift at the restaurant is going to start soon. He takes one last glance at the park fountain and thinks wistfully that, just once, he would like to skip a day of work to sit and admire the beauty of the park. Just once to stop and smell the roses and breathe in their scent.
But his conscience screams at him that he doesn't have the luxury of time. After all, time has never been fully his. Joonmyun has spent his entire life borrowing hours and squeezing out spare seconds.
So off he goes to the restaurant to face another evening of spilled sodas and angry customers that jab him with cigar-thick fingers.
He doesn't notice when a coin slips from the pocket off his jacket. By the time it lands on the stone pavement with a clink, his body is already eight paces ahead and his mind even further.
But Yixing notices. He frequents the park every afternoon to get lost in the swirl of clouds and untangle the thorn bushes in his head. Usually he's oblivious to what's in front of him, but perfect timing has it so the sunlight reflects from the coin at the exact moment he walks by. Yixing can't resist the slight sparkle, and he picks up the coin, cupping it in his hands.
There's a male running ahead of him. Yixing wonders if the coin belongs to the stranger, but he's too far ahead and disappears around a corner.
The fountain. At least there's that.
"Even if it’s in another life, I wish our paths will cross again," Yixing murmurs, flicking his wrist to send the coin gliding through the air and somersaulting into the water with a splash.
And Yixing loses himself underneath the surface of the water as well. There he spins tales in his head of his mysterious stranger. He names him Joonmyun. Kim Joonmyun.
Kim Joonmyun is a kind man, Yixing thinks, but he’s the type of guy who expects something in return for his kindness. He’s not selfish; he’s fair. Although Kim Joonmyun has precise handwriting and looks spiffy in a suit, he has mountains of rotting clothes at home. Yixing smiles and nods. He’s beginning to like this Kim Joonmyun.
Ideas bubble up inside of Yixing until they overflow onto the pages of his notebook. He breathes life into his new character. The words spill out of him easily, as if he has known Kim Joonmyun his whole life.
And slowly, slowly, over the course of a dozen spilled coffees at the cafe and late nights illuminated by his laptop, Yixing finds himself falling in love with Kim Joonmyun.
If only he were real…
A/N: Lately I've been drowning in chem and bio. This is me overcompensating with poetic nonsense. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to, but I tried ;A;
Pairing: sulay
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1691 words
Summary: Kim Joonmyun's existence hangs on a thread wrapped around Yixing's finger.
Epilogue
This is a story, not a fairy tale.
Although not all stories have happy endings, we can scratch out the parts we don't like and write our wishes in the margins.
Chapter 5: Snow Globes
At odd times in the night, when Joonmyun is softly snoring, Yixing wakes up to study the sleeping face of the man lying next to him. Yixing traces the dips and the curves and the lines of Joonmyun’s body, and every time he revels at his marble creation.
After all, it is Yixing who shapes the bubbles of Joonmyun’s laughter, who paints the colors of Joonmyun’s smiles, and who takes Joonmyun’s steady hand and places it against his rapidly beating heart until their pulses line up.
Joonmyun, in short, is Yixing.
Sometimes it saddens Yixing that Joonmyun will cease to exist at Yixing’s last breath. It’s not fair to him that their fates are intertwined. And Joonmyun is always about fairness.
”Why are you awake?” Joonmyun asks, his voice rough from sleepiness.
Yixing cups his cheek in his hand, pressing a warm kiss to Joonmyun’s forehead. “It’s nothing. Everything is just a dream anyway.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Joonmyun says between yawns, “but this isn’t a dream. It’s reality.”
“But this is the reality I created,” Yixing smiles sadly.
With that said, he pulls Joonmyun into his arms and holds him tightly. As long as he can hold him, Joonmyun is real enough.
Chapter 4: Icarus
"Fancy napkins," Yixing observes.
As trivial as it is, he's right. They're cloth napkins, embroidered with golden thread.
"I wanted to take you out somewhere nice," Joonmyun smiles, "to celebrate my promotion."
Promotion, Yixing thinks, of course he got a promotion.
They only know how to soar higher and higher, each day more perfect than the last. What will happen when they finally reach the sun? It wasn't kind to Icarus, after all.
Yixing sets down his glass of wine and inclines his head towards the sky. He can see Joonmyun's distorted reflection in the restaurant window. "Look at the stars."
Sometimes Yixing rearranges the stars so they spell Joonmyun's name. Guilt gnaws at him because he knows he's cheating. He's whittling away reality so his dreams can slip through the cracks, but it's addicting.
All Yixing ever wanted was to be loved. To have Joonmyun press his lips against Yixing's forehead and whisper sweet nothings in his ear means everything to Yixing. He feels warm, wanted, loved.
Is that so bad?
Yixing ignores his gurgling stomach as they connect the twinkling dots and find conversations in the constellations.
Chapter 3: Cookie Cutters
Through perseverance and an embarrassing number of cheap ballpoint pens, Joonmyun and Yixing live contently in their domestic bliss. Joonmyun finally has that flashy department advisor job with whispers of bonuses and promotions, and Yixing feeds him with each stroke of the pen. Their relationship is a symbiotic one.
(In truth, Joonmyun is a parasite living inside of Yixing's heart, but Yixing insists that's where he belongs.)
Once upon a time Yixing would have spent his days chasing down mosquitoes who stole a part of him with every interview. He works for the local paper, the one nobody reads or even knows about, as a freelance writer. Back then, every word he wrote was a grain of rice.
Now Yixing has made a home out of Joonmyun's upscale apartment. He occasionally scratches out a short article for the newspaper for extra pocket money, usually for sending flowers to Joonmyun's office because he adores horribly cheesy gestures like that.
Meanwhile, Yixing's old apartment collects dust and debts, but he has long ago shed that life, an ugly chrysalis.
When Joonmyun comes home from work, Yixing dotes on him. He's already cooked Joonmyun's favorite meal and has his clothes in the washing machine and his hands are instantly kneading the kinks out of his shoulders.
"How was work today?"
"Corporate is breathing down my back," Joonmyun sighs, "but the flowers you sent really brightened up my day. Thanks."
Yixing starts humming a tune, some folk song his mother always sang many years ago. He checks to see if dinner is ready.
It is.
But Yixing forgets how the rest of the song goes, and another pre-Joonmyun memory fades into oblivion.
Chapter 2: Equivalent Exchange
Since Joonmyun lives off of the tips he scrapes off of grubby customers, his idea of going out is inhabiting the corner table of a fast food burger joint. Joonmyun grabs a handful of napkins more than necessary and an entire dining set of plastic forks. It saves money if he doesn’t have to buy napkins and utensils, he explains to a curious Yixing.
“Once I graduate and get a real job, I’ll be able to buy as many napkins as I want. I want the cloth kind, embroidered with golden thread,” Joonmyun says between bites of his cheeseburger, “and I’ll also treat you to a real meal.”
Yixing chomps on a fistful of french fries, golden and shiny with grease, and swallows before saying, “You didn’t have to take me out for lunch.”
Joonmyun gives him a look. “Of course I had to. It was only fair.”
“I gave you a tissue.”
“You gave me more than that.”
Yes, I gave you life.
Chapter 1: What Could Have Been
Joonmyun glances at his watch. Ten minutes until 4. His shift at the restaurant is going to start soon. He takes one last glance at the park fountain and thinks wistfully that, just once, he would like to skip a day of work to sit and admire the beauty of the park. Just once to stop and smell the roses and breathe in their scent.
Instead, he grabs his bag and makes a run for it. From the park to the restaurant is a 20-minute walking distance. If he makes a few shortcuts and sells his soul to the devil, there’s a possibility Joonmyun can make it to work on time.
However, he makes a slight miscalculation as his body hurtles toward a tree. Momentum has it that he isn’t able to completely stop before impact, but he manages to wrench his body out of the way-and straight into a bush.
A stranger runs up to him. “Are you hurt?”
Joonmyun groans. When he touches the wet sensation on his philtrum, he groans again at how it stains his fingers red.
“I can’t go to work like this,” Joonmyun says, panic rising in his voice.
The stranger digs into his backpack to grab a pack of travel tissues. He hands one to Joonmyun and instructs, “Use this. Tilt your head forward to allow the blood to drain forward, and apply pressure by squeezing your nostrils.”
Joonmyun does what he’s told, looks at his watch, and sighs, “I guess I’m skipping work.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Still, it’s unfortunate.”
Joonmyun looks at the stranger, who’s actually pretty cute, with a bloody smile. “This doesn’t have to be some massive tragedy. How about if I take you out instead? That'll be our happy ending to this little mishap.”
Alternate Ending
But the pages had all been ripped out from the weathered spine. Paper carcasses were left out to slowly decompose. The unforgiving sun bleached their bones and faded their inky tattoos until there was no story at all.
Chapter 1: What Is
Joonmyun glances at his watch. Ten minutes until 4. His shift at the restaurant is going to start soon. He takes one last glance at the park fountain and thinks wistfully that, just once, he would like to skip a day of work to sit and admire the beauty of the park. Just once to stop and smell the roses and breathe in their scent.
But his conscience screams at him that he doesn't have the luxury of time. After all, time has never been fully his. Joonmyun has spent his entire life borrowing hours and squeezing out spare seconds.
So off he goes to the restaurant to face another evening of spilled sodas and angry customers that jab him with cigar-thick fingers.
He doesn't notice when a coin slips from the pocket off his jacket. By the time it lands on the stone pavement with a clink, his body is already eight paces ahead and his mind even further.
But Yixing notices. He frequents the park every afternoon to get lost in the swirl of clouds and untangle the thorn bushes in his head. Usually he's oblivious to what's in front of him, but perfect timing has it so the sunlight reflects from the coin at the exact moment he walks by. Yixing can't resist the slight sparkle, and he picks up the coin, cupping it in his hands.
There's a male running ahead of him. Yixing wonders if the coin belongs to the stranger, but he's too far ahead and disappears around a corner.
The fountain. At least there's that.
"Even if it’s in another life, I wish our paths will cross again," Yixing murmurs, flicking his wrist to send the coin gliding through the air and somersaulting into the water with a splash.
And Yixing loses himself underneath the surface of the water as well. There he spins tales in his head of his mysterious stranger. He names him Joonmyun. Kim Joonmyun.
Kim Joonmyun is a kind man, Yixing thinks, but he’s the type of guy who expects something in return for his kindness. He’s not selfish; he’s fair. Although Kim Joonmyun has precise handwriting and looks spiffy in a suit, he has mountains of rotting clothes at home. Yixing smiles and nods. He’s beginning to like this Kim Joonmyun.
Ideas bubble up inside of Yixing until they overflow onto the pages of his notebook. He breathes life into his new character. The words spill out of him easily, as if he has known Kim Joonmyun his whole life.
And slowly, slowly, over the course of a dozen spilled coffees at the cafe and late nights illuminated by his laptop, Yixing finds himself falling in love with Kim Joonmyun.
If only he were real…
A/N: Lately I've been drowning in chem and bio. This is me overcompensating with poetic nonsense. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to, but I tried ;A;