toy boy - yunho/jaejoong
toy boy
yunjae
light r, just to be safe.
“I’ve a heart of gold in the smallest size,
leave me in the dark and never hear me cry.”
-
Your interest is piqued when you notice the sun glinting off of something in the dumpster.
You spare a glance to the other people milling about around you, before biting the bullet and heaving yourself over the side.
You are rather hoping that it is something of value; something you can sell. You could do with a new pair of boots - yours are getting too small for you and they nip your feet when you walk.
This is why you are somewhat disappointed when your eyes fall on a doll.
You reach for it regardless; tilt it just so, to make its eyes twinkle, the way they had before.
Sure enough, they gleam in the sun. You sigh and brush the dirt off of its clothes.
You hold it at arm’s length, inspecting it from a distance.
Dolls usually creep you out. Your sister had a whole shelf full of them. China dolls with painted red lips and tight ringlets. You shudder at the thought.
This one doesn’t look like those dolls. After giving it a quick onceover with your eyes, you conclude that this is a boy doll. He’s creepy, yes, but not creepy in the same way as the other dolls.
He looks very realistic, with a slight golden glow to his skin and pouted pink lips.
You touch the hair, platinum blonde tufts curling onto a smooth porcelain face.
His eyes are large and glossy, dark brown orbs that are every bit as soulless as a doll’s eyes should be.
X
There’s someone in your room.
You are alert enough to make out the shape of a figure, as it slowly advances towards you.
You want to scream, but all sound is frozen in your throat.
They are looming over you now; you can’t hear a thing, not even the sound of their breathing.
The silence is almost deafening, choking, and all you can do is watch as they stoop down beside you.
Cold lips brush against your ear and a shiver runs through your body at the contact.
“Jaejoong. My name is Jaejoong.”
You still and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Play with me.”
Your eyes shoot open again at that statement and you slowly turn your head.
A young man is staring back at you.
A young man with dark, soulless eyes.
A life-sized version of the doll.
X
Jaejoong only appears at night, every night, without fail.
Even when you try to get rid of him, try to contain the doll in a lock-box which you throw into the river, even when you think it’s over, you always wake up the next morning to the tiny lifeless body lying dormant beside your head on the pillow, to a cold porcelain hand resting on your cheek.
He doesn’t get angry at you, not in any physical way that is.
But when he crawls into your bed, presses his body against your own, you clumsily feel your way across his chest with shaking fingertips and tears pool in your eyes as you trace the tiny fissure cracks which mar his frozen, unexpectedly soft skin.
X
You soon resign yourself to the fact that you’re stuck with Jaejoong, or he’s stuck with you, you’re not sure which it is.
You fall easily into a routine; you leave Jaejoong sitting rigidly on the windowsill- he likes to bask in the warmth of the sunshine- and you head to work, you come home and take a shower, eat dinner, watch TV and do other mundane, trivial tasks in order to make the day pass quicker.
These days the best part comes when the sun goes down, and you watch as time seems to stop in its tracks. You’re still not quite sure what happens, one minute you’ll be staring at the doll, then there will be a flicker, sort of like a visual comparison to static, and then nothing else really matters, time restarts and Jaejoong will be smiling into your eyes.
As you spend more time together, you notice that Jaejoong downright loathes the cold.
He can only fall asleep once he’s pressed so tightly against you that if he tried to get any closer; he’d be on your other side. He cries at night if the sun didn’t shine during the day and you find yourself wishing that you could control the weather.
He can spend hours at a time just fanning his hands out over your stomach, curling his fingers into the fine hairs at the base of your neck, and sliding a leg in between your thighs.
“One day,” He says lazily, and you hate to see that his eyelids are already starting to droop.
“One day, my heart will thaw, and you’ll be able to touch me without flinching.”
He falls asleep, and you find it unfair that warmth is already blossoming in your chest, while his skin is still frozen beneath your fingertips.
X
You ask him one night, when you’re close enough that he won’t get offended,
“What are you?”, “why are you here?”
Jaejoong just shrugs, an action which he has grown particularly fond of since he discovered what shoulders are meant for.
“It was too empty being a doll.”
His fingers take the scenic route up your body, until he arrives at his usual destination, gently stroking the skin above your heart.
“I didn’t like being hollow.”
You shuffle impossibly closer and your mind screams at you to stop, but that doesn’t matter, nothing matters when you're kissing the person you love.
You want to cry when you feel the sudden warmth of his lips as they hesitantly start to move against your own.
X
You like to think of yourself as a man of values, morals.
You are going to marry a nice, sensible woman and bless your parents with the perfect, beautiful grandchildren they’ve been waiting for your whole life.
That was the plan at least, until you fell in love with a doll that you found in a dumpster.
You accept the offer when your mother invites you out to dinner one evening; you don’t particularly want to go in case tonight’s the night that Jaejoong comes to life in time to see the sunset.
The majority of the evening is a blur; you acknowledge that your mother is talking to you, but only just.
“This is Ye Eun, I’ve been telling her all about you and I think it’s about time you two met.”
She gestures towards a young woman in a black cocktail dress, her long black hair hangs loosely around her shoulders and the stilted conversation she instigates is as limp as the life you can see in her eyes.
She is touching your knee as your mother smiles at you warmly, and the knot of tension in your stomach only grows larger as realization slowly dawns upon you.
Jagged memories of conversations long since past flash through your mind,
“Your father’s boss has a daughter around your age; we should get you two together sometime.”
“...I don’t think it’d be wise to leave it too late,these are the best years of your life after all, you should find someone to share them with.”
They want you - are expecting you- to fall in love with this small, unremarkable woman you’ve barely known for an hour, and they’re hoping it happens soon.
X
You watch Jaejoong staring out of the window as you shrug out of your suit jacket.
“The moon isn’t the same as the sun at all, is it?”
His voice is quiet, tinged with a longing so desperate that it hurts your heart, and you realize with startling clarity that you’re jealous of the sun.
“No, I suppose it’s not.”
“It should be, in theory. Don’t you miss it when it’s gone?”
You sigh and cross the short distance to cradle him in your arms.
“No,” You say, helplessness creeping into your voice.
“I don’t miss it, because everything is more beautiful at night.”
He pulls away from your embrace long enough to ask,
“How come?”
He looks so young, with wide eyes so innocent that you really wish you could un-love him. But you know you can’t, ever, and it’s with a sort of misplaced irony that the moonlight shines through the open window to bathe him in an almost angelic glow.
It makes his eyes twinkle, they way they had when you first found him, and all you can do is kiss him.
He breaks your coupling to ask you again, hands fisted in the fabric of your shirt and eyes dark with something far from innocent,
“How come?”
You can feel his breath against your lips and you stare into his open, imploring eyes,
“Because you’re here.”
He makes a small sound in the back of his throat that sends a shiver down your spine, and you let the unimportant thoughts melt away to the sounds of Jaejoong’s soft sighs; fiancées, morals, being a good son, none of that matters anymore because it’s just you and him, under the caressing gaze of the moonlight that he hates so much.
You smile against his skin because even if it’s just for the time being, right now, he’s real, writhing, and so, so warm beneath your hands.
X
You close your eyes against the sudden onslaught of noise as her voice steadily increases in volume.
She’s annoyed at you, hurt. She is looking for something that you aren’t willing to give her; a commitment, a chance.
“I need to know if you’re serious about this relationship!”
You’re not, never were but she doesn’t need to know that.
“”Talk to me! I never know what you’re thinking, or what you’re feeling,” She fixes you with a piercing stare, tears spilling over gracefully.
“Why won’t you let anyone in?
You don’t have anything to say, wouldn’t be able to explain yourself even if you wanted to.
She doesn’t appreciate your silence and her anger intensifies tenfold as you open your eyes and unconsciously slide them in the direction of where Jaejoong is sitting on your bedside table.
This infuriates her and she stalks over to stand beside your bed,
“What’s wrong with you? You just stay in here all day, all night.”
She sniffles and points at you accusingly,
“I hear you sometimes you know, you talk to someone, who is it?”
You shrug, and keep your gaze locked on Jaejoong; at his big glassy eyes seeing straight through you.
“Oh God.”
You hear her choked gasp of air; a soft sound of surprise, of disgust.
“It’s that doll, isn’t it?”
She turns her attention on Jaejoong now, as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
“You talk to that thing, don’t you?”
You sigh, and with a small voice, say,
“Yes.”
She stares at you and roughly snatches up Jaejoong, holding him up by his hair, and if only looks could kill.
You watch in slow motion as her grasp slowly loosens, as the silky strands slide easily through her fingers, as Jaejoong goes crashing to the ground.
You make a pained sounding exclamation in the back of your throat and barely acknowledge her curt, “I’m leaving”, as you scramble to his side.
You look on in disbelief, at the mangled body of your lover lying in pieces on the floor, with a little bit of imagination; you can almost see the pieces of your heart scattered beside him.
It’ll be alright, you tell yourself as you frantically try to glue his wrecked body back together, he can’t die, he wouldn’t.
Dusk comes and goes, and JaeJoong remains still and tiny and frozen in your arms.
You discover that porcelain is so much easier to repair than his shattered soul, and your broken heart.
X
Your interest is piqued when you notice the sun glinting off of something out of the corner of your eye.
You turn and realize that this must be a dream.
“Yunho?”
Dark eyes lock with your own and you shut them tightly. It’s not a dream because when you open them again Jaejoong is still there, breathing and alive, in front of you.
“Why are you here?”
You can’t take your eyes off the slight pink blush spreading across his cheeks as he smiles, and takes a half step forward,
“I told you, I didn’t like being hollow.”
You take a deep breath, trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips and touch him without flinching.
“Me neither.”
You tilt his chin upwards and bring your mouths together, watching as his eyes slowly close and his lashes come to rest prettily against his skin, and he’s as real, warm and beautiful as the sun beating down on you.
author's note - I wrote this ages ago for my sister, it was inspired by Mika's song "Toy Boy" and I hope it doesn't suck too badly. I cannot stand the ending, but I can't bring myself to change it -_-
Comments, constructive criticism, both readily welcomed.
yunjae
light r, just to be safe.
“I’ve a heart of gold in the smallest size,
leave me in the dark and never hear me cry.”
-
Your interest is piqued when you notice the sun glinting off of something in the dumpster.
You spare a glance to the other people milling about around you, before biting the bullet and heaving yourself over the side.
You are rather hoping that it is something of value; something you can sell. You could do with a new pair of boots - yours are getting too small for you and they nip your feet when you walk.
This is why you are somewhat disappointed when your eyes fall on a doll.
You reach for it regardless; tilt it just so, to make its eyes twinkle, the way they had before.
Sure enough, they gleam in the sun. You sigh and brush the dirt off of its clothes.
You hold it at arm’s length, inspecting it from a distance.
Dolls usually creep you out. Your sister had a whole shelf full of them. China dolls with painted red lips and tight ringlets. You shudder at the thought.
This one doesn’t look like those dolls. After giving it a quick onceover with your eyes, you conclude that this is a boy doll. He’s creepy, yes, but not creepy in the same way as the other dolls.
He looks very realistic, with a slight golden glow to his skin and pouted pink lips.
You touch the hair, platinum blonde tufts curling onto a smooth porcelain face.
His eyes are large and glossy, dark brown orbs that are every bit as soulless as a doll’s eyes should be.
X
There’s someone in your room.
You are alert enough to make out the shape of a figure, as it slowly advances towards you.
You want to scream, but all sound is frozen in your throat.
They are looming over you now; you can’t hear a thing, not even the sound of their breathing.
The silence is almost deafening, choking, and all you can do is watch as they stoop down beside you.
Cold lips brush against your ear and a shiver runs through your body at the contact.
“Jaejoong. My name is Jaejoong.”
You still and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Play with me.”
Your eyes shoot open again at that statement and you slowly turn your head.
A young man is staring back at you.
A young man with dark, soulless eyes.
A life-sized version of the doll.
X
Jaejoong only appears at night, every night, without fail.
Even when you try to get rid of him, try to contain the doll in a lock-box which you throw into the river, even when you think it’s over, you always wake up the next morning to the tiny lifeless body lying dormant beside your head on the pillow, to a cold porcelain hand resting on your cheek.
He doesn’t get angry at you, not in any physical way that is.
But when he crawls into your bed, presses his body against your own, you clumsily feel your way across his chest with shaking fingertips and tears pool in your eyes as you trace the tiny fissure cracks which mar his frozen, unexpectedly soft skin.
X
You soon resign yourself to the fact that you’re stuck with Jaejoong, or he’s stuck with you, you’re not sure which it is.
You fall easily into a routine; you leave Jaejoong sitting rigidly on the windowsill- he likes to bask in the warmth of the sunshine- and you head to work, you come home and take a shower, eat dinner, watch TV and do other mundane, trivial tasks in order to make the day pass quicker.
These days the best part comes when the sun goes down, and you watch as time seems to stop in its tracks. You’re still not quite sure what happens, one minute you’ll be staring at the doll, then there will be a flicker, sort of like a visual comparison to static, and then nothing else really matters, time restarts and Jaejoong will be smiling into your eyes.
As you spend more time together, you notice that Jaejoong downright loathes the cold.
He can only fall asleep once he’s pressed so tightly against you that if he tried to get any closer; he’d be on your other side. He cries at night if the sun didn’t shine during the day and you find yourself wishing that you could control the weather.
He can spend hours at a time just fanning his hands out over your stomach, curling his fingers into the fine hairs at the base of your neck, and sliding a leg in between your thighs.
“One day,” He says lazily, and you hate to see that his eyelids are already starting to droop.
“One day, my heart will thaw, and you’ll be able to touch me without flinching.”
He falls asleep, and you find it unfair that warmth is already blossoming in your chest, while his skin is still frozen beneath your fingertips.
X
You ask him one night, when you’re close enough that he won’t get offended,
“What are you?”, “why are you here?”
Jaejoong just shrugs, an action which he has grown particularly fond of since he discovered what shoulders are meant for.
“It was too empty being a doll.”
His fingers take the scenic route up your body, until he arrives at his usual destination, gently stroking the skin above your heart.
“I didn’t like being hollow.”
You shuffle impossibly closer and your mind screams at you to stop, but that doesn’t matter, nothing matters when you're kissing the person you love.
You want to cry when you feel the sudden warmth of his lips as they hesitantly start to move against your own.
X
You like to think of yourself as a man of values, morals.
You are going to marry a nice, sensible woman and bless your parents with the perfect, beautiful grandchildren they’ve been waiting for your whole life.
That was the plan at least, until you fell in love with a doll that you found in a dumpster.
You accept the offer when your mother invites you out to dinner one evening; you don’t particularly want to go in case tonight’s the night that Jaejoong comes to life in time to see the sunset.
The majority of the evening is a blur; you acknowledge that your mother is talking to you, but only just.
“This is Ye Eun, I’ve been telling her all about you and I think it’s about time you two met.”
She gestures towards a young woman in a black cocktail dress, her long black hair hangs loosely around her shoulders and the stilted conversation she instigates is as limp as the life you can see in her eyes.
She is touching your knee as your mother smiles at you warmly, and the knot of tension in your stomach only grows larger as realization slowly dawns upon you.
Jagged memories of conversations long since past flash through your mind,
“Your father’s boss has a daughter around your age; we should get you two together sometime.”
“...I don’t think it’d be wise to leave it too late,these are the best years of your life after all, you should find someone to share them with.”
They want you - are expecting you- to fall in love with this small, unremarkable woman you’ve barely known for an hour, and they’re hoping it happens soon.
X
You watch Jaejoong staring out of the window as you shrug out of your suit jacket.
“The moon isn’t the same as the sun at all, is it?”
His voice is quiet, tinged with a longing so desperate that it hurts your heart, and you realize with startling clarity that you’re jealous of the sun.
“No, I suppose it’s not.”
“It should be, in theory. Don’t you miss it when it’s gone?”
You sigh and cross the short distance to cradle him in your arms.
“No,” You say, helplessness creeping into your voice.
“I don’t miss it, because everything is more beautiful at night.”
He pulls away from your embrace long enough to ask,
“How come?”
He looks so young, with wide eyes so innocent that you really wish you could un-love him. But you know you can’t, ever, and it’s with a sort of misplaced irony that the moonlight shines through the open window to bathe him in an almost angelic glow.
It makes his eyes twinkle, they way they had when you first found him, and all you can do is kiss him.
He breaks your coupling to ask you again, hands fisted in the fabric of your shirt and eyes dark with something far from innocent,
“How come?”
You can feel his breath against your lips and you stare into his open, imploring eyes,
“Because you’re here.”
He makes a small sound in the back of his throat that sends a shiver down your spine, and you let the unimportant thoughts melt away to the sounds of Jaejoong’s soft sighs; fiancées, morals, being a good son, none of that matters anymore because it’s just you and him, under the caressing gaze of the moonlight that he hates so much.
You smile against his skin because even if it’s just for the time being, right now, he’s real, writhing, and so, so warm beneath your hands.
X
You close your eyes against the sudden onslaught of noise as her voice steadily increases in volume.
She’s annoyed at you, hurt. She is looking for something that you aren’t willing to give her; a commitment, a chance.
“I need to know if you’re serious about this relationship!”
You’re not, never were but she doesn’t need to know that.
“”Talk to me! I never know what you’re thinking, or what you’re feeling,” She fixes you with a piercing stare, tears spilling over gracefully.
“Why won’t you let anyone in?
You don’t have anything to say, wouldn’t be able to explain yourself even if you wanted to.
She doesn’t appreciate your silence and her anger intensifies tenfold as you open your eyes and unconsciously slide them in the direction of where Jaejoong is sitting on your bedside table.
This infuriates her and she stalks over to stand beside your bed,
“What’s wrong with you? You just stay in here all day, all night.”
She sniffles and points at you accusingly,
“I hear you sometimes you know, you talk to someone, who is it?”
You shrug, and keep your gaze locked on Jaejoong; at his big glassy eyes seeing straight through you.
“Oh God.”
You hear her choked gasp of air; a soft sound of surprise, of disgust.
“It’s that doll, isn’t it?”
She turns her attention on Jaejoong now, as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
“You talk to that thing, don’t you?”
You sigh, and with a small voice, say,
“Yes.”
She stares at you and roughly snatches up Jaejoong, holding him up by his hair, and if only looks could kill.
You watch in slow motion as her grasp slowly loosens, as the silky strands slide easily through her fingers, as Jaejoong goes crashing to the ground.
You make a pained sounding exclamation in the back of your throat and barely acknowledge her curt, “I’m leaving”, as you scramble to his side.
You look on in disbelief, at the mangled body of your lover lying in pieces on the floor, with a little bit of imagination; you can almost see the pieces of your heart scattered beside him.
It’ll be alright, you tell yourself as you frantically try to glue his wrecked body back together, he can’t die, he wouldn’t.
Dusk comes and goes, and JaeJoong remains still and tiny and frozen in your arms.
You discover that porcelain is so much easier to repair than his shattered soul, and your broken heart.
X
Your interest is piqued when you notice the sun glinting off of something out of the corner of your eye.
You turn and realize that this must be a dream.
“Yunho?”
Dark eyes lock with your own and you shut them tightly. It’s not a dream because when you open them again Jaejoong is still there, breathing and alive, in front of you.
“Why are you here?”
You can’t take your eyes off the slight pink blush spreading across his cheeks as he smiles, and takes a half step forward,
“I told you, I didn’t like being hollow.”
You take a deep breath, trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips and touch him without flinching.
“Me neither.”
You tilt his chin upwards and bring your mouths together, watching as his eyes slowly close and his lashes come to rest prettily against his skin, and he’s as real, warm and beautiful as the sun beating down on you.
author's note - I wrote this ages ago for my sister, it was inspired by Mika's song "Toy Boy" and I hope it doesn't suck too badly. I cannot stand the ending, but I can't bring myself to change it -_-
Comments, constructive criticism, both readily welcomed.