Endless (We Go On And On)
Title: Endless (We Go On And On)
Pairing: Yunho/Changmin
Author:
Rating: R
Warning: A bit of violence but nothing you can’t stomach.
Summary: Changmin has always been plagued by nightmares. Yunho guards him from the things that go bump at night.
A/N: another lovely fic from the ever-awesome vaguelynormal. So not mine, all I’ve got are posting rights :D
Changmin has always been plagued by nightmares. They twist and turn in his dreams, lingering in his mind for far too long and far too vividly after he has woken up. His parents had always justified it as an overactive imagination and that he’d grow out of it but Changmin knows that someone as cynical and rational as himself shouldn’t be haunted by images of blood and monsters. He wakes in a cold sweat, chest heaving almost every night of the week and the dreams leave him more exhausted than if he’d ran for miles.
It doesn’t take long for him to work out he’s a little different from most kids growing up: his fears bordering upon ferocious and crippling. He grows used to the exhaustion deep in his bones, the sluggish pace his mind clicks into after a terrible night’s sleep. He stops mentioning it to his family, it’s needless to worry them with something that can’t be fixed and he certainly doesn’t want to see a shrink.
He studies: psychology, dream cycles, articles bridging science to the ridiculous. The information he reads online is too full of crazy people’s ramblings about the spiritual plane and their stories of dreams in which they lose their teeth. Changmin thinks of his own dreams- the ones where he’s splayed out by a million pins through his flesh, his lungs filling up with water as he struggles to escape- and he’s fairly certain they’re not stress related. Sleeping pills seem to make it worse- he’s trapped with no reprieve in the nightmare state, turning through endless stone passages to run from an unseen predator. Changmin’s learnt there is little he can do to hold back the night terrors; they become more frequent with age.
Changmin’s never been superstitious but when his friend from college gives him a dream catcher, he sees no harm in hanging the ornament by his window, watching the trailing feathers blow in the light breeze. It’s a cheap, tacky ornament from some tree-hugging hippy store in the next town over but Changmin can’t help but hope it’ll bring him some luck.
It’s there for three days before Changmin wakes up, unsettled but for once not from a nightmare. Moonlight pours through his window, obstructed by the silhouette of the man crouching on his windowsill. He immediately assumes he must still be asleep and flinches, anticipating an attack but the man stays where he is, face turned to look at the stars. Changmin grabs the closest thing he can find to a weapon- his textbook- and slips out of bed as quietly as possible, trying to move towards the door. The floorboards creak loudly on the second step and the man finally turns to face him, Changmin frozen in place as his eyes lock with the handsome stranger’s.
Deciding it’s better to be on the defensive, Changmin raises his book preparing to throw it and half-yells, ‘Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my room?’
The man seems reluctant to move away from the window but he steps forward when Changmin continues to back away towards the door.
‘I’m Yunho, I’m here to protect you.’
‘What the hell are you on about?’ Changmin yells, watching as his book falls uselessly to the ground half a metre in front of Yunho’s feet. Maybe if he screams a bit, his family will call the cops.
Yunho stares slightly amused at the book on the floor and Changmin can’t help but think there is a tinge of sadness in his expression as the man stoops to pick up the fallen book, placing it gently on the bed.
‘I’m here to protect you, Changmin,’ Yunho says quietly, looking Changmin straight in the eyes, ‘From the things you see in your dreams.’
‘Are you crazy? How do you know my name?’ Changmin shouts, wondering why the fuck couldn’t he hear his parents moving downstairs or sirens in the distance.
‘I’ve known you for an eternity, Changmin. I’ve been watching over you for many lifetimes and your face is all that hasn’t changed but if it helps, your current name is written on that birthday card,’ Yunho points to his dresser where a card from his grandmother sits from last month.
‘Jesus Christ, you’re a stalker aren’t you?’ Changmin panics, finding the door handle stiff beneath his turning hands. ‘What have you done?’ He pulls frantically at the knob.
‘It’s a spell.’
‘Like I’m going to believe that!’
Yunho pulls Changmin roughly away from the door by the wrists, he struggles in the man’s hold until he sees the sorrow in Yunho’s eyes, grief written over his handsome features.
‘Your dreams- they’re uncommon aren’t they? Places you’ve never been, cities that no longer exist and endless shadows,’ Yunho’s eyes burn through Changmin, his body still in the man’s hold. ‘I know what they mean, Changmin, I know what they’re for and you bound me to protect you from them centuries and centuries ago.’
‘Why?’ Changmin’s not sure exactly what question he’s asking as he sinks against Yunho’s chest but there’s a kind of pale joy deep in the stranger’s eyes when he looks at him that strikes an honest chord with Changmin. ‘Am I supposed to believe you and I have known each other for thousands of years? They’re just dreams- they don’t mean anything!’
‘They do mean something, they mean everything and I have known you for all my long years, through your countless lifecycles and I am here because it is what you asked of me, I am your servant,’ Yunho says simply, releasing his hold on Changmin and moving back to his seat on the window ledge.
‘Servant?’ Changmin asks.
‘Yes’
‘So I’m your-‘
‘Master,’ Yunho supplies.
‘And I’m supposedly reincarnate?’ Changmin raises his eyebrow sceptically.
‘Yes,’ Yunho says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
‘Why do I need protection then?’ Changmin decides it’s probably just best to go along with the crazy man who just happens to be very attractive and has probably super glued his door shut.
‘You’re part of the prophecy- integral actually- and there are a lot of… things that don’t want it to come to pass,’ Yunho says, gesturing slightly with his hands.
‘Things,’ Changmin says cynically. ‘Are you trying to tell me there are monsters under the bed, Yunho?’
Yunho shuffles on his feet as though unsure how to say what he wants to, ‘Well, no - I put a lot of protection spells on your room, so nothing can get in… but the people who want to kill you- they’re far from human.’
Changmin scoffs, ‘You’re telling me you’re thousands of years old and cast spells- are you human?’
‘Not quite,’ Yunho looks distinctly uncomfortable, the expression so honest Changmin has a hard time not taking him a little bit seriously. ‘We made a bond, that changes things a bit- I’m bound to protect you in this life and the next and all those that will come before and after that.’
Grief flits briefly across Yunho’s features and Changmin feels a strong wave of desolation radiate through the room, as the man seems to resign himself to his fate, sinking against the windowsill. Changmin thinks it’s got to suck being trapped looking out for his sorry ass over and over again, undoubtedly going through the same process of explaining everything to a highly sceptical Changmin. Changmin wonders if this is the worst he’s ever taken the news.
Probably not because he’s starting to believe the stranger’s stories, the man is filling the room with emotions so raw and sincere that they almost knock him to the ground.
‘Couldn’t I… unbind you?’ Changmin offers, feeling pity for the exhausted looking man.
‘With all due respect, Master, there is no one whom I would rather serve,’ Yunho looks downcast, ‘I don’t resent my bonds to you.’
Something about his words- the expression of devotion, despair and guilt clicks inside Changmin’s brain.
‘Were we lovers?’ He questions gently.
Yunho glances up quickly, surprise etched over his face.
‘In the beginning,’ He croaks out, tears pooling and catching the moonlight in his dampened lashes.
And suddenly Changmin understands. The dreams of a hot, pliant body beneath his, strong muscular thighs around his waist and low moans that resemble nothing remotely close to his ex-girlfriend. There’s a sense of endless grief and guilt that seems to hang over Yunho like a shroud, the loss of a lover letting despair dig into his every cell. He can’t help but believe this really has all happened before, a million lives all connected to this one man.
‘I die don’t I?’ Changmin asks blankly. ‘You fail and I die every time. That’s why it keeps repeating.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Yunho apologises, his head in his hands as tears spill onto the floor.
It’s kind of horrible to be told you’re going to die, Changmin thinks, sinking to his knees. Before he even realises it, hot tears are rolling down his cheeks. He’s terrified, stiff but for the shaking in his hands. He’s not sure how it happens but Yunho holds him through his breakdown, sometimes his touches pressing a little too close or for too long as he wipes away Changmin’s tears and tucks him into bed. Changmin falls asleep exhausted and wakes the next day to find himself the most well rested he’s ever felt and Yunho gone- his window firmly shut.
The dreams become surprisingly happier the following nights, if embarrassingly all about Yunho. There are images of tan, smooth skin and rippling muscles stuck in his head along with a very vivid outline of a tattoo. Sometimes he thinks he dreams Yunho’s memories instead of his own- high vaulted ceilings in a decadent stone church, his own body lying prone and waxy in death on a marble platform, draped in cloths of red velvet. He remembers horses, their smell and rhythm even though he’s never seen more than a picture in one of his encyclopaedias. Long dining halls filled with festive banquets and long dresses, Yunho holding his hand as they dance slowly together on the balcony away from the crowd. And then sometimes there is great pain- a torture he knows not to be his own and a man with coal coloured eyes cast in shadows.
When Changmin wakes every morning for a week after these dreams he knows Yunho has been by his side. He realises he wishes the man would stay longer if they only have limited time left together before it begins again.
One night he stirs to find Yunho pulling his blanket back up over his body. He had been dreaming about making love to Yunho in front of a large hearth he doesn’t recognise and blushes when he realises he’d probably been thrashing and calling Yunho’s name.
‘Yunho,’ Changmin whispers carefully as though afraid the man beside his bed is just an apparition.
‘Master?’
‘Come to bed,’ Changmin swallows, he’s probably taking advantage but somehow he wants this more than anything. He wants the intimacy so much he could cry, probably is as Yunho kneels on the bed, his skin radiating warmth.
‘I feel like I know you,’ Changmin murmurs, hand reaching up to caress Yunho’s face.
Yunho closes his eyes to the tears he can feel prickling behind his eyelids and leans into the touch. Here Changmin’s hands are soft, free of the calluses and scars from when Yunho first knew him. He’s relived their moments together countless times in his head but this is as close as he’s come to feeling the touch of the lover he once knew since then. Changmin’s lips brush against his, dry and chapped but so, so familiar and he’s sure he whimpers when Changmin pulls away.
Yunho smiles gently at him and it’s so heartbreaking Changmin doesn’t know what to do, so he pushes Yunho back against the pillows and does his best to console him with soft lips and fingers trailed over skin.
‘You have it, don’t you?’ Changmin asks suddenly, pulling at Yunho’s shirt until it falls open, revealing the mark he’d seen a thousand times in his dreams.
A compass. So intricate that it almost seemed to shift and spin with the rise and fall of Yunho’s chest, tattooed on the broad stretch of skin between his collarbone and nipple. Changmin leans down to press a kiss against the inked skin.
‘What does it mean?’ He asks, still showering kisses over Yunho’s chest.
Yunho groans as Changmin sucks a nipple into his mouth, ‘It’s… it’s your mark- part of the bond.’ His hips roll up against Changmin’s and they both let out a load moan.
Changmin can feel the staccato beat of Yunho’s heart thumping against his palm and suspects his own is much the same. When they kiss it’s familiar yet thrilling, their heads automatically tilting to accommodate each other, Yunho giving back as much as he receives. Yunho knows all the right places to touch Changmin, the right amount of pressure on the base of his neck pulling him closer and when his leg wraps around Changmin’s waist it’s like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.
Mine, Changmin thinks and when Yunho moans out a, ‘Yours,’ he realises he’s said it out loud.
They undress each other with the ease of lovers privy to all each other’s ins and outs. There’s no hesitance, no awkward fumbling or shy glances - just pure lust and something a lot stronger than love. When they finally connect, Changmin thrusting in with short, strong movements, Changmin discovers he already knows just the right rhythm to have Yunho crying out beneath him. Yunho arches, arms wrapped tightly around Changmin’s shoulders, legs hitched up around Changmin’s lean frame, locking their bodies together as they kiss, hips steadily rocking. Yunho feels amazing beneath his hands, skin burning like fire and sending heat spiralling through his gut, directly to his groin. Every plunge he makes inside Yunho has him wanting to stay like this forever and it’s terrifying to have this sudden onslaught of emotion rush over him but he’s never felt so alive.
Yunho pushes back on every thrust, nails dragging up the back of Changmin’s thighs and ass, trying to fit together impossibly close. Tears stream down his cheeks as Changmin kisses him, slow but dominant and it’s everything Yunho has missed and knows he may lose again for another four thousand years. Changmin presses in deeper, slowing their rhythm to just take in the beauty of this man he barely knows but feels like he loves, cherishes. He wishes he could both release Yunho from the painful binds and selfishly wants Yunho to follow him through eternity.
They lose themselves in each other for hours, losing track of climaxes and kisses, just staring into the depths of each other’s eyes and trying to absorb every emotion and memory trapped within. When they finally stop, it’s because their limbs are too heavy and strained to move, Yunho barely managing to roll off Changmin and lay beside him. They lie hip to hip, their fingers brushing gently and entangling as they come down from their high.
Changmin could spend an eternity mapping Yunho’s body, tracing the shell of his ear and counting the eyelashes that fan across delicately. There’s a beauty Changmin knows he’ll never capture for as long as he stares, the image burning imperfect in his mind until it blends with ill-remembered outlines. There’s a flash penetrating his memory- Yunho in a frosted field, the surrounding air misty as he drags Changmin’s dying body in a half-run away from the edging shadows. Changmin observes the scene like a spectator watching television. The face is unmistakably his, the clothes from a bygone era and his body a little more youthful but it’s most certainly his unconscious form Yunho covers with his own. Yunho’s blood and tears that drip onto his skin.
He recognises the memory as Yunho’s own, at once realising exactly what his servant is thinking of, lying beside him on the bed. Changmin can’t help but wonder if this is part of their connection- the sharing of minds, insight into dreams, emotions and recollections previously united. He’s seen his death countless times over the past months, felt it in his dreams and can now experience it all from Yunho’s point of view. There are so many things Changmin would like to ask: some logical, mysteries surrounding the prophecy, monsters and magic. Some are irrational: the cynical man he is requires an explanation for why every single cell in his body seems to long to meld into Yunho, mere physical touch never close enough to satisfy completely and his heart screams as though willing itself to burst open in a show of resistance. There are things he could spend hours dissecting in his normal fashion- filtering information through rational and logical deconstruction before switching to an indulgent, unreasoned analysis that puts him at ease.
Instead Changmin contents himself to listen to the faint noises of his companion. Yunho steadily inhales and exhales and Changmin supposes it’s enough that for now they’re both still breathing. Changmin rolls on his side, arm thrown over Yunho’s stomach and presses his face in close, inhaling Yunho’s familiar, reassuring scent. He wonders if after centuries of changing grooming habits and lifestyles if he still smells the same to Yunho, if it’s preordained or just genetics, if that’s not the same thing anyway.
‘Yunho?’ Changmin tests the silence.
‘Mmm....,’ Yunho mumbles in return, eyes closing.
‘How long do I have before they come for me?’
‘A week at best,’ Yunho whispers. ‘I’ll protect you, you have my promise,’ Yunho murmurs into his neck almost desperately.
Changmin runs a hand through Yunho’s hair, ‘I know,’ he soothes. ‘If I survive, you’ll stay with me right? Not just at night time- forever?’
‘Of course, Master.’
--
It’s not a week. It’s two days before Yunho is materializing on his window ledge. He looks panicked and frightened- not at all the calm, stoic man from before.
‘It’s coming,’ Yunho says hurriedly, pulling Changmin up from his desk and crushing him in a hug. ‘We have to move, get you out of here- they’ve found you.’
‘But- But you’ve put spells and stuff up right? You said nothing can get in!’ Changmin panics.
‘Nothing small can get in- this is not small. This is a lot more powerful than you or me and this one always wins,’ Yunho grits out, making to jump out the window.
‘Yunho this is hardly a game! I don’t want to die,’ Changmin pleads, and then more quietly, ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
Yunho jumps and there’s a light thud before Changmin runs to look out the window, finding the man safely on his feet and holding his arms outstretched as though he expects Changmin to jump two floors into them. He stomps his feet at the absurdity of it all before he takes a huge leap of faith and launches himself out the window. He lands surprisingly upright against Yunho’s body and he enjoys the light embrace before the fear seeps back in.
The street is eerily quiet- bathed in a dull blue and yellow glow from the streetlights and the moon. Yunho grabs his hand and they make it three steps across the front lawn when there is a chilling, strong wind and Yunho is knocked to the ground by an unseen force. Yunho’s shirt is ripped open, a long gash trailing diagonally over his torso and more blood than Changmin has ever cared to see outside his dreams. He’s too concerned with Yunho’s wound to notice the man in a black yukata settle on the grass only metres away, katana in hand.
‘Get up, Yunho and I’ll let you have the first strike,’ The man’s husky voice permeates the cold air.
Yunho quickly gets to his feet, stance widening in front of Changmin, ready to anticipate the next attack, pushing aside any thoughts of pain. The man in black smiles, a breeze whips around him ruffling the long lines of his robes until they widen, exposing a toned chest and a tattoo of a different design to match Yunho’s. His hand shifts to his blade, fingers dipping into the blood, playing with the slick substance before wiping his hand clean on his stomach. A glow of lights forming in the man’s palm surges towards Yunho who quickly shifts his feet, pushing out an energy of his own to deflect the spell.
The man scoffs, ‘Parlour tricks, Yunho. If you really haven’t improved past that you don’t even deserve to battle with me.’
‘Then leave, Jaejoong,’ Yunho says sternly, drawing a sword of his own out of the air near his hip.
‘Tch, where’s the fun in that?’ Jaejoong laughs.
His movements are almost too quick for Changmin to make out but before a second passes, the man’s blade is connecting against Yunho’s with a sharp clang. Yunho’s counter defences are quick and smooth but Jaejoong is clearly the superior swordsman, he attacks with enough force to send Yunho skidding backwards across the ground. Yunho makes solid kicks to little affect, the man in black barely concerned as though the blows were merely a child’s tiny annoyance. There’s another blur of lights this time from Yunho but Jaejoong seems to spin it off his open palm until the colours dull and it ricochets back at Yunho, hitting him square in the chest.
Yunho stumbles, his chest making a wheezing sound when suddenly Jaejoong is right there beside him, kicking Yunho’s feet out from underneath him. Changmin’s heart gets caught in his throat in horror for a long moment when Jaejoong pauses to look at him, sword poised over Yunho’s stomach before he flashes Changmin a feral smile and brings the katana down. The metal plunges deep into Yunho’s abdomen and Yunho groans, trying not to writhe against the blade when Jaejoong summons a force to settle the sword all the way through, stuck deep within the hard earth below.
Yunho splutters as blood makes its way up his throat, his hands wrap painfully over the blade as he tries to pull it out with the last remnants of his strength. He looks up to see Jaejoong’s twisted smirk, when the fear floods through him as Jaejoong turns his head, settling his gaze back onto Changmin. Changmin looks at him, desperate and horrified and Yunho tries futilely to release himself from the sword’s cage. It can’t end like this- not again. He wants Changmin to die happy, old and at rest in his arms, not terrified and barely an adult.
‘Ah Choikang, so good to see you again,’ Jaejoong sneers, delighting in the panic and confusion flitting over the boy’s face as he steps toward him. ‘Or is it different this time, hmm? What’s his name, Yunho?’
‘Run, Changmin,’ Yunho croaks out.
‘Yes, run, it’s been a while since I had a good chase,’ Jaejoong jibes.
Changmin takes a desperate glance at Yunho. He doesn’t want to leave the man and he knows Jaejoong’s taunt is an unspoken threat but there’s little else he can do. He recognises the soft, beautiful features that contort into a menacing grin as the man from the endless shadows that hunt him in his dreams and it strikes dread in his heart.
Changmin scrambles to his feet but barely makes it a metre before the man in black is there, a knife searing through his belly and then he is on the ground, screaming in pain as blood spills onto the green grass. Jaejoong pulls at his hair, the strands ripping from the flesh as he’s dragged closer to where Yunho’s body lies trapped. His own hand wet with blood slips as he tries to free himself from Jaejoong’s grip, trying to twist his body away, towards Yunho. There’s a cold, metallic pressure biting into the skin of his neck as the man in black looms over him.
Changmin stops struggling, the eyes of the man seem to project monsters created of darkness, lithe shadows from his nightmares and he can see his future reflected back at him. He wishes to be stronger, to put up a fight of his own but he knows himself to be completely helpless against the powers set against him. He’s left with fleeting thoughts of his family and wonders if he’ll even be missed or if this cycle has a way of dealing with the casualties of everyone’s emotions but Yunho’s and his own. A sob wracks his body as he thinks of a life barely lived, only just and he hasn’t even done anything yet, he hasn’t even decided on a major or travelled outside of his home town. Mostly he’s saddened he won’t get to know Yunho, his lover will continue to spend his existence knowing Changmin but he will never get to reciprocate that devotion. He cries shamelessly: he mourns for himself, for Yunho’s suffering and in anticipation of the pain he knows is forthcoming.
It’s over so quickly, a sickening sound of flesh ripping, arteries tearing and the wet slosh of blood bubbling out of his throat like a stream. His lungs fill with blood and he chokes violently, his eyes watering as he takes a final glimpse of Yunho, the man stretching an arm out towards him, already overwhelmed with grief. Jaejoong watches until Changmin’s body stops twitching, the life draining quickly all over the earth. He licks the blade clean as Yunho’s sobs get louder, slowing ambling over and withdrawing the sword, lights surging around his hand and empowering him as he pulls it from the ground.
Yunho crawls, fingertips within an inch of Changmin’s still warm body before Jaejoong kicks him away.
‘You have an eternity to sulk and grieve, you could at least wait till I’ve had my fill of fun to do so,’ Jaejoong scolds, hoisting Yunho onto his feet.
Their faces are almost level and Jaejoong can admire the bitter lines of defeat on Yunho’s face, the deep sorrow that echoes almost hollowly in the man’s eyes.
‘Now, now, what are you so upset about? You always whined that he died too young- I let him make it into adulthood this time. You should be grateful,’ Jaejoong’s hands cup Yunho’s face, drawing him closer, breath fanning over Yunho’s mouth. ‘Don’t you get tired of fighting a lost cause?’
He kisses Yunho, deeply- prying the man’s jaw open to slip his tongue inside, sharing the metallic, sour taste of Changmin’s blood. Yunho whimpers but is otherwise unresponsive much to Jaejoong’s displeasure.
Sharp nails trail over Yunho’s chest, digging into the embellished skin,’ I could remove this you know… make it my own design. I can rip that bond right from your flesh,’ Jaejoong breathes into Yunho’s ear.
The compass inked on his skin begins to spin and spin but it holds none of the warmth it has whenever Changmin is reborn and near.
‘No,’ Yunho’s voice is hoarse, ‘I live to protect him.’
Jaejoong laughs, shrill and clear. ‘And what a hopelessly useless guardian you make, Yunho. Really, it was such a great show, I can’t help but wonder what on earth you’ll do for an encore.’
Yunho flinches but there’s an air of defeat around him, shoulders low in resignation and remorse.
‘I was born to destroy Choikang, Choikang exists only to die and you, Yunho- you live only to suffer,’ Jaejoong trails razor-sharp nails over Yunho’s newly healed stomach, making small incisions and watching the blood blossom in thin red lines and dissolve as the skin renews. ‘Such a pitiful expression- it makes it hard to leave you alone, you know,’ Jaejoong bites at Yunho’s throat.
‘Shall we strike another deal then? Twenty five years… for a century of yours spent with me,’ Jaejoong licks at the blood pooling at the juncture of Yunho’s neck, his hands tightening until he feels the man struggle to pull oxygen into his lungs.
Yunho gives a small nod as a sign of his acquiescence and let’s Jaejoong take him as the world falls down around them. He watches as Changmin’s lifeless body disintegrates into the air as though it never existed. The houses fall away, the crisp grass and bitumen of the street dropping out from beneath their feet as the stars disappear one by one leaving them encased in darkness.
Yunho descends, free falling into the all consuming black and shadow if not for Jaejoong’s clutches suspending him in time, anchoring him with drawn out pain confused with pleasure until the compass stops and the cycle begins anew.
Pairing: Yunho/Changmin
Author:
Rating: R
Warning: A bit of violence but nothing you can’t stomach.
Summary: Changmin has always been plagued by nightmares. Yunho guards him from the things that go bump at night.
A/N: another lovely fic from the ever-awesome vaguelynormal. So not mine, all I’ve got are posting rights :D
Changmin has always been plagued by nightmares. They twist and turn in his dreams, lingering in his mind for far too long and far too vividly after he has woken up. His parents had always justified it as an overactive imagination and that he’d grow out of it but Changmin knows that someone as cynical and rational as himself shouldn’t be haunted by images of blood and monsters. He wakes in a cold sweat, chest heaving almost every night of the week and the dreams leave him more exhausted than if he’d ran for miles.
It doesn’t take long for him to work out he’s a little different from most kids growing up: his fears bordering upon ferocious and crippling. He grows used to the exhaustion deep in his bones, the sluggish pace his mind clicks into after a terrible night’s sleep. He stops mentioning it to his family, it’s needless to worry them with something that can’t be fixed and he certainly doesn’t want to see a shrink.
He studies: psychology, dream cycles, articles bridging science to the ridiculous. The information he reads online is too full of crazy people’s ramblings about the spiritual plane and their stories of dreams in which they lose their teeth. Changmin thinks of his own dreams- the ones where he’s splayed out by a million pins through his flesh, his lungs filling up with water as he struggles to escape- and he’s fairly certain they’re not stress related. Sleeping pills seem to make it worse- he’s trapped with no reprieve in the nightmare state, turning through endless stone passages to run from an unseen predator. Changmin’s learnt there is little he can do to hold back the night terrors; they become more frequent with age.
Changmin’s never been superstitious but when his friend from college gives him a dream catcher, he sees no harm in hanging the ornament by his window, watching the trailing feathers blow in the light breeze. It’s a cheap, tacky ornament from some tree-hugging hippy store in the next town over but Changmin can’t help but hope it’ll bring him some luck.
It’s there for three days before Changmin wakes up, unsettled but for once not from a nightmare. Moonlight pours through his window, obstructed by the silhouette of the man crouching on his windowsill. He immediately assumes he must still be asleep and flinches, anticipating an attack but the man stays where he is, face turned to look at the stars. Changmin grabs the closest thing he can find to a weapon- his textbook- and slips out of bed as quietly as possible, trying to move towards the door. The floorboards creak loudly on the second step and the man finally turns to face him, Changmin frozen in place as his eyes lock with the handsome stranger’s.
Deciding it’s better to be on the defensive, Changmin raises his book preparing to throw it and half-yells, ‘Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my room?’
The man seems reluctant to move away from the window but he steps forward when Changmin continues to back away towards the door.
‘I’m Yunho, I’m here to protect you.’
‘What the hell are you on about?’ Changmin yells, watching as his book falls uselessly to the ground half a metre in front of Yunho’s feet. Maybe if he screams a bit, his family will call the cops.
Yunho stares slightly amused at the book on the floor and Changmin can’t help but think there is a tinge of sadness in his expression as the man stoops to pick up the fallen book, placing it gently on the bed.
‘I’m here to protect you, Changmin,’ Yunho says quietly, looking Changmin straight in the eyes, ‘From the things you see in your dreams.’
‘Are you crazy? How do you know my name?’ Changmin shouts, wondering why the fuck couldn’t he hear his parents moving downstairs or sirens in the distance.
‘I’ve known you for an eternity, Changmin. I’ve been watching over you for many lifetimes and your face is all that hasn’t changed but if it helps, your current name is written on that birthday card,’ Yunho points to his dresser where a card from his grandmother sits from last month.
‘Jesus Christ, you’re a stalker aren’t you?’ Changmin panics, finding the door handle stiff beneath his turning hands. ‘What have you done?’ He pulls frantically at the knob.
‘It’s a spell.’
‘Like I’m going to believe that!’
Yunho pulls Changmin roughly away from the door by the wrists, he struggles in the man’s hold until he sees the sorrow in Yunho’s eyes, grief written over his handsome features.
‘Your dreams- they’re uncommon aren’t they? Places you’ve never been, cities that no longer exist and endless shadows,’ Yunho’s eyes burn through Changmin, his body still in the man’s hold. ‘I know what they mean, Changmin, I know what they’re for and you bound me to protect you from them centuries and centuries ago.’
‘Why?’ Changmin’s not sure exactly what question he’s asking as he sinks against Yunho’s chest but there’s a kind of pale joy deep in the stranger’s eyes when he looks at him that strikes an honest chord with Changmin. ‘Am I supposed to believe you and I have known each other for thousands of years? They’re just dreams- they don’t mean anything!’
‘They do mean something, they mean everything and I have known you for all my long years, through your countless lifecycles and I am here because it is what you asked of me, I am your servant,’ Yunho says simply, releasing his hold on Changmin and moving back to his seat on the window ledge.
‘Servant?’ Changmin asks.
‘Yes’
‘So I’m your-‘
‘Master,’ Yunho supplies.
‘And I’m supposedly reincarnate?’ Changmin raises his eyebrow sceptically.
‘Yes,’ Yunho says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
‘Why do I need protection then?’ Changmin decides it’s probably just best to go along with the crazy man who just happens to be very attractive and has probably super glued his door shut.
‘You’re part of the prophecy- integral actually- and there are a lot of… things that don’t want it to come to pass,’ Yunho says, gesturing slightly with his hands.
‘Things,’ Changmin says cynically. ‘Are you trying to tell me there are monsters under the bed, Yunho?’
Yunho shuffles on his feet as though unsure how to say what he wants to, ‘Well, no - I put a lot of protection spells on your room, so nothing can get in… but the people who want to kill you- they’re far from human.’
Changmin scoffs, ‘You’re telling me you’re thousands of years old and cast spells- are you human?’
‘Not quite,’ Yunho looks distinctly uncomfortable, the expression so honest Changmin has a hard time not taking him a little bit seriously. ‘We made a bond, that changes things a bit- I’m bound to protect you in this life and the next and all those that will come before and after that.’
Grief flits briefly across Yunho’s features and Changmin feels a strong wave of desolation radiate through the room, as the man seems to resign himself to his fate, sinking against the windowsill. Changmin thinks it’s got to suck being trapped looking out for his sorry ass over and over again, undoubtedly going through the same process of explaining everything to a highly sceptical Changmin. Changmin wonders if this is the worst he’s ever taken the news.
Probably not because he’s starting to believe the stranger’s stories, the man is filling the room with emotions so raw and sincere that they almost knock him to the ground.
‘Couldn’t I… unbind you?’ Changmin offers, feeling pity for the exhausted looking man.
‘With all due respect, Master, there is no one whom I would rather serve,’ Yunho looks downcast, ‘I don’t resent my bonds to you.’
Something about his words- the expression of devotion, despair and guilt clicks inside Changmin’s brain.
‘Were we lovers?’ He questions gently.
Yunho glances up quickly, surprise etched over his face.
‘In the beginning,’ He croaks out, tears pooling and catching the moonlight in his dampened lashes.
And suddenly Changmin understands. The dreams of a hot, pliant body beneath his, strong muscular thighs around his waist and low moans that resemble nothing remotely close to his ex-girlfriend. There’s a sense of endless grief and guilt that seems to hang over Yunho like a shroud, the loss of a lover letting despair dig into his every cell. He can’t help but believe this really has all happened before, a million lives all connected to this one man.
‘I die don’t I?’ Changmin asks blankly. ‘You fail and I die every time. That’s why it keeps repeating.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Yunho apologises, his head in his hands as tears spill onto the floor.
It’s kind of horrible to be told you’re going to die, Changmin thinks, sinking to his knees. Before he even realises it, hot tears are rolling down his cheeks. He’s terrified, stiff but for the shaking in his hands. He’s not sure how it happens but Yunho holds him through his breakdown, sometimes his touches pressing a little too close or for too long as he wipes away Changmin’s tears and tucks him into bed. Changmin falls asleep exhausted and wakes the next day to find himself the most well rested he’s ever felt and Yunho gone- his window firmly shut.
The dreams become surprisingly happier the following nights, if embarrassingly all about Yunho. There are images of tan, smooth skin and rippling muscles stuck in his head along with a very vivid outline of a tattoo. Sometimes he thinks he dreams Yunho’s memories instead of his own- high vaulted ceilings in a decadent stone church, his own body lying prone and waxy in death on a marble platform, draped in cloths of red velvet. He remembers horses, their smell and rhythm even though he’s never seen more than a picture in one of his encyclopaedias. Long dining halls filled with festive banquets and long dresses, Yunho holding his hand as they dance slowly together on the balcony away from the crowd. And then sometimes there is great pain- a torture he knows not to be his own and a man with coal coloured eyes cast in shadows.
When Changmin wakes every morning for a week after these dreams he knows Yunho has been by his side. He realises he wishes the man would stay longer if they only have limited time left together before it begins again.
One night he stirs to find Yunho pulling his blanket back up over his body. He had been dreaming about making love to Yunho in front of a large hearth he doesn’t recognise and blushes when he realises he’d probably been thrashing and calling Yunho’s name.
‘Yunho,’ Changmin whispers carefully as though afraid the man beside his bed is just an apparition.
‘Master?’
‘Come to bed,’ Changmin swallows, he’s probably taking advantage but somehow he wants this more than anything. He wants the intimacy so much he could cry, probably is as Yunho kneels on the bed, his skin radiating warmth.
‘I feel like I know you,’ Changmin murmurs, hand reaching up to caress Yunho’s face.
Yunho closes his eyes to the tears he can feel prickling behind his eyelids and leans into the touch. Here Changmin’s hands are soft, free of the calluses and scars from when Yunho first knew him. He’s relived their moments together countless times in his head but this is as close as he’s come to feeling the touch of the lover he once knew since then. Changmin’s lips brush against his, dry and chapped but so, so familiar and he’s sure he whimpers when Changmin pulls away.
Yunho smiles gently at him and it’s so heartbreaking Changmin doesn’t know what to do, so he pushes Yunho back against the pillows and does his best to console him with soft lips and fingers trailed over skin.
‘You have it, don’t you?’ Changmin asks suddenly, pulling at Yunho’s shirt until it falls open, revealing the mark he’d seen a thousand times in his dreams.
A compass. So intricate that it almost seemed to shift and spin with the rise and fall of Yunho’s chest, tattooed on the broad stretch of skin between his collarbone and nipple. Changmin leans down to press a kiss against the inked skin.
‘What does it mean?’ He asks, still showering kisses over Yunho’s chest.
Yunho groans as Changmin sucks a nipple into his mouth, ‘It’s… it’s your mark- part of the bond.’ His hips roll up against Changmin’s and they both let out a load moan.
Changmin can feel the staccato beat of Yunho’s heart thumping against his palm and suspects his own is much the same. When they kiss it’s familiar yet thrilling, their heads automatically tilting to accommodate each other, Yunho giving back as much as he receives. Yunho knows all the right places to touch Changmin, the right amount of pressure on the base of his neck pulling him closer and when his leg wraps around Changmin’s waist it’s like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.
Mine, Changmin thinks and when Yunho moans out a, ‘Yours,’ he realises he’s said it out loud.
They undress each other with the ease of lovers privy to all each other’s ins and outs. There’s no hesitance, no awkward fumbling or shy glances - just pure lust and something a lot stronger than love. When they finally connect, Changmin thrusting in with short, strong movements, Changmin discovers he already knows just the right rhythm to have Yunho crying out beneath him. Yunho arches, arms wrapped tightly around Changmin’s shoulders, legs hitched up around Changmin’s lean frame, locking their bodies together as they kiss, hips steadily rocking. Yunho feels amazing beneath his hands, skin burning like fire and sending heat spiralling through his gut, directly to his groin. Every plunge he makes inside Yunho has him wanting to stay like this forever and it’s terrifying to have this sudden onslaught of emotion rush over him but he’s never felt so alive.
Yunho pushes back on every thrust, nails dragging up the back of Changmin’s thighs and ass, trying to fit together impossibly close. Tears stream down his cheeks as Changmin kisses him, slow but dominant and it’s everything Yunho has missed and knows he may lose again for another four thousand years. Changmin presses in deeper, slowing their rhythm to just take in the beauty of this man he barely knows but feels like he loves, cherishes. He wishes he could both release Yunho from the painful binds and selfishly wants Yunho to follow him through eternity.
They lose themselves in each other for hours, losing track of climaxes and kisses, just staring into the depths of each other’s eyes and trying to absorb every emotion and memory trapped within. When they finally stop, it’s because their limbs are too heavy and strained to move, Yunho barely managing to roll off Changmin and lay beside him. They lie hip to hip, their fingers brushing gently and entangling as they come down from their high.
Changmin could spend an eternity mapping Yunho’s body, tracing the shell of his ear and counting the eyelashes that fan across delicately. There’s a beauty Changmin knows he’ll never capture for as long as he stares, the image burning imperfect in his mind until it blends with ill-remembered outlines. There’s a flash penetrating his memory- Yunho in a frosted field, the surrounding air misty as he drags Changmin’s dying body in a half-run away from the edging shadows. Changmin observes the scene like a spectator watching television. The face is unmistakably his, the clothes from a bygone era and his body a little more youthful but it’s most certainly his unconscious form Yunho covers with his own. Yunho’s blood and tears that drip onto his skin.
He recognises the memory as Yunho’s own, at once realising exactly what his servant is thinking of, lying beside him on the bed. Changmin can’t help but wonder if this is part of their connection- the sharing of minds, insight into dreams, emotions and recollections previously united. He’s seen his death countless times over the past months, felt it in his dreams and can now experience it all from Yunho’s point of view. There are so many things Changmin would like to ask: some logical, mysteries surrounding the prophecy, monsters and magic. Some are irrational: the cynical man he is requires an explanation for why every single cell in his body seems to long to meld into Yunho, mere physical touch never close enough to satisfy completely and his heart screams as though willing itself to burst open in a show of resistance. There are things he could spend hours dissecting in his normal fashion- filtering information through rational and logical deconstruction before switching to an indulgent, unreasoned analysis that puts him at ease.
Instead Changmin contents himself to listen to the faint noises of his companion. Yunho steadily inhales and exhales and Changmin supposes it’s enough that for now they’re both still breathing. Changmin rolls on his side, arm thrown over Yunho’s stomach and presses his face in close, inhaling Yunho’s familiar, reassuring scent. He wonders if after centuries of changing grooming habits and lifestyles if he still smells the same to Yunho, if it’s preordained or just genetics, if that’s not the same thing anyway.
‘Yunho?’ Changmin tests the silence.
‘Mmm....,’ Yunho mumbles in return, eyes closing.
‘How long do I have before they come for me?’
‘A week at best,’ Yunho whispers. ‘I’ll protect you, you have my promise,’ Yunho murmurs into his neck almost desperately.
Changmin runs a hand through Yunho’s hair, ‘I know,’ he soothes. ‘If I survive, you’ll stay with me right? Not just at night time- forever?’
‘Of course, Master.’
--
It’s not a week. It’s two days before Yunho is materializing on his window ledge. He looks panicked and frightened- not at all the calm, stoic man from before.
‘It’s coming,’ Yunho says hurriedly, pulling Changmin up from his desk and crushing him in a hug. ‘We have to move, get you out of here- they’ve found you.’
‘But- But you’ve put spells and stuff up right? You said nothing can get in!’ Changmin panics.
‘Nothing small can get in- this is not small. This is a lot more powerful than you or me and this one always wins,’ Yunho grits out, making to jump out the window.
‘Yunho this is hardly a game! I don’t want to die,’ Changmin pleads, and then more quietly, ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
Yunho jumps and there’s a light thud before Changmin runs to look out the window, finding the man safely on his feet and holding his arms outstretched as though he expects Changmin to jump two floors into them. He stomps his feet at the absurdity of it all before he takes a huge leap of faith and launches himself out the window. He lands surprisingly upright against Yunho’s body and he enjoys the light embrace before the fear seeps back in.
The street is eerily quiet- bathed in a dull blue and yellow glow from the streetlights and the moon. Yunho grabs his hand and they make it three steps across the front lawn when there is a chilling, strong wind and Yunho is knocked to the ground by an unseen force. Yunho’s shirt is ripped open, a long gash trailing diagonally over his torso and more blood than Changmin has ever cared to see outside his dreams. He’s too concerned with Yunho’s wound to notice the man in a black yukata settle on the grass only metres away, katana in hand.
‘Get up, Yunho and I’ll let you have the first strike,’ The man’s husky voice permeates the cold air.
Yunho quickly gets to his feet, stance widening in front of Changmin, ready to anticipate the next attack, pushing aside any thoughts of pain. The man in black smiles, a breeze whips around him ruffling the long lines of his robes until they widen, exposing a toned chest and a tattoo of a different design to match Yunho’s. His hand shifts to his blade, fingers dipping into the blood, playing with the slick substance before wiping his hand clean on his stomach. A glow of lights forming in the man’s palm surges towards Yunho who quickly shifts his feet, pushing out an energy of his own to deflect the spell.
The man scoffs, ‘Parlour tricks, Yunho. If you really haven’t improved past that you don’t even deserve to battle with me.’
‘Then leave, Jaejoong,’ Yunho says sternly, drawing a sword of his own out of the air near his hip.
‘Tch, where’s the fun in that?’ Jaejoong laughs.
His movements are almost too quick for Changmin to make out but before a second passes, the man’s blade is connecting against Yunho’s with a sharp clang. Yunho’s counter defences are quick and smooth but Jaejoong is clearly the superior swordsman, he attacks with enough force to send Yunho skidding backwards across the ground. Yunho makes solid kicks to little affect, the man in black barely concerned as though the blows were merely a child’s tiny annoyance. There’s another blur of lights this time from Yunho but Jaejoong seems to spin it off his open palm until the colours dull and it ricochets back at Yunho, hitting him square in the chest.
Yunho stumbles, his chest making a wheezing sound when suddenly Jaejoong is right there beside him, kicking Yunho’s feet out from underneath him. Changmin’s heart gets caught in his throat in horror for a long moment when Jaejoong pauses to look at him, sword poised over Yunho’s stomach before he flashes Changmin a feral smile and brings the katana down. The metal plunges deep into Yunho’s abdomen and Yunho groans, trying not to writhe against the blade when Jaejoong summons a force to settle the sword all the way through, stuck deep within the hard earth below.
Yunho splutters as blood makes its way up his throat, his hands wrap painfully over the blade as he tries to pull it out with the last remnants of his strength. He looks up to see Jaejoong’s twisted smirk, when the fear floods through him as Jaejoong turns his head, settling his gaze back onto Changmin. Changmin looks at him, desperate and horrified and Yunho tries futilely to release himself from the sword’s cage. It can’t end like this- not again. He wants Changmin to die happy, old and at rest in his arms, not terrified and barely an adult.
‘Ah Choikang, so good to see you again,’ Jaejoong sneers, delighting in the panic and confusion flitting over the boy’s face as he steps toward him. ‘Or is it different this time, hmm? What’s his name, Yunho?’
‘Run, Changmin,’ Yunho croaks out.
‘Yes, run, it’s been a while since I had a good chase,’ Jaejoong jibes.
Changmin takes a desperate glance at Yunho. He doesn’t want to leave the man and he knows Jaejoong’s taunt is an unspoken threat but there’s little else he can do. He recognises the soft, beautiful features that contort into a menacing grin as the man from the endless shadows that hunt him in his dreams and it strikes dread in his heart.
Changmin scrambles to his feet but barely makes it a metre before the man in black is there, a knife searing through his belly and then he is on the ground, screaming in pain as blood spills onto the green grass. Jaejoong pulls at his hair, the strands ripping from the flesh as he’s dragged closer to where Yunho’s body lies trapped. His own hand wet with blood slips as he tries to free himself from Jaejoong’s grip, trying to twist his body away, towards Yunho. There’s a cold, metallic pressure biting into the skin of his neck as the man in black looms over him.
Changmin stops struggling, the eyes of the man seem to project monsters created of darkness, lithe shadows from his nightmares and he can see his future reflected back at him. He wishes to be stronger, to put up a fight of his own but he knows himself to be completely helpless against the powers set against him. He’s left with fleeting thoughts of his family and wonders if he’ll even be missed or if this cycle has a way of dealing with the casualties of everyone’s emotions but Yunho’s and his own. A sob wracks his body as he thinks of a life barely lived, only just and he hasn’t even done anything yet, he hasn’t even decided on a major or travelled outside of his home town. Mostly he’s saddened he won’t get to know Yunho, his lover will continue to spend his existence knowing Changmin but he will never get to reciprocate that devotion. He cries shamelessly: he mourns for himself, for Yunho’s suffering and in anticipation of the pain he knows is forthcoming.
It’s over so quickly, a sickening sound of flesh ripping, arteries tearing and the wet slosh of blood bubbling out of his throat like a stream. His lungs fill with blood and he chokes violently, his eyes watering as he takes a final glimpse of Yunho, the man stretching an arm out towards him, already overwhelmed with grief. Jaejoong watches until Changmin’s body stops twitching, the life draining quickly all over the earth. He licks the blade clean as Yunho’s sobs get louder, slowing ambling over and withdrawing the sword, lights surging around his hand and empowering him as he pulls it from the ground.
Yunho crawls, fingertips within an inch of Changmin’s still warm body before Jaejoong kicks him away.
‘You have an eternity to sulk and grieve, you could at least wait till I’ve had my fill of fun to do so,’ Jaejoong scolds, hoisting Yunho onto his feet.
Their faces are almost level and Jaejoong can admire the bitter lines of defeat on Yunho’s face, the deep sorrow that echoes almost hollowly in the man’s eyes.
‘Now, now, what are you so upset about? You always whined that he died too young- I let him make it into adulthood this time. You should be grateful,’ Jaejoong’s hands cup Yunho’s face, drawing him closer, breath fanning over Yunho’s mouth. ‘Don’t you get tired of fighting a lost cause?’
He kisses Yunho, deeply- prying the man’s jaw open to slip his tongue inside, sharing the metallic, sour taste of Changmin’s blood. Yunho whimpers but is otherwise unresponsive much to Jaejoong’s displeasure.
Sharp nails trail over Yunho’s chest, digging into the embellished skin,’ I could remove this you know… make it my own design. I can rip that bond right from your flesh,’ Jaejoong breathes into Yunho’s ear.
The compass inked on his skin begins to spin and spin but it holds none of the warmth it has whenever Changmin is reborn and near.
‘No,’ Yunho’s voice is hoarse, ‘I live to protect him.’
Jaejoong laughs, shrill and clear. ‘And what a hopelessly useless guardian you make, Yunho. Really, it was such a great show, I can’t help but wonder what on earth you’ll do for an encore.’
Yunho flinches but there’s an air of defeat around him, shoulders low in resignation and remorse.
‘I was born to destroy Choikang, Choikang exists only to die and you, Yunho- you live only to suffer,’ Jaejoong trails razor-sharp nails over Yunho’s newly healed stomach, making small incisions and watching the blood blossom in thin red lines and dissolve as the skin renews. ‘Such a pitiful expression- it makes it hard to leave you alone, you know,’ Jaejoong bites at Yunho’s throat.
‘Shall we strike another deal then? Twenty five years… for a century of yours spent with me,’ Jaejoong licks at the blood pooling at the juncture of Yunho’s neck, his hands tightening until he feels the man struggle to pull oxygen into his lungs.
Yunho gives a small nod as a sign of his acquiescence and let’s Jaejoong take him as the world falls down around them. He watches as Changmin’s lifeless body disintegrates into the air as though it never existed. The houses fall away, the crisp grass and bitumen of the street dropping out from beneath their feet as the stars disappear one by one leaving them encased in darkness.
Yunho descends, free falling into the all consuming black and shadow if not for Jaejoong’s clutches suspending him in time, anchoring him with drawn out pain confused with pleasure until the compass stops and the cycle begins anew.