i. Abstract
Title: Abstract
Genre: Fluff...?
Pairing: Yoosu
Length: Oneshot
Rating: R
A/N: It's a bit strange...but still this is for all of you who wished me a happy birthday, thank you all so much <333
When abstract things don't exist we're left with only things that are real.
How many times have I told you...
What answer does this person expect. No answer. Then why ask the question? Why ask a question when you don't want an answer? Yoochun didn't understand.
“Do you understand what I'm saying, Yoochun?” the therapist asked.
“Yes.” Yoochun lied. He never understood, he just memorized.
“That's good. I guess that's our session for today. Your homework for this week is to note down two rhetorical questions that you hear people use. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” Yoochun said. “Is it time for me to leave?”
“Yes,” the therapist said and Yoochun stood up and walked towards the door. Outside his 'buddy' was waiting for him with a smile that was too big and hair that was too bright.
“Hello,” Yoochun said because that was appropriate in that situation. “Hello, Junsu.”
“Hello hello, Yoochun,” the bright boy said. “How was it today?”
Yoochun went over it in his head. Was this a rhetorical question? No, Junsu wanted an answer.
“It was okay,” Yoochun said. “I learned about rhetorical questions. I have to note down two rhetorical questions I hear.”
“That's awesome.” Junsu said.
A lot of things Yoochun said were 'awesome' but Yoochun never knew what made them awesome. Awesome was an abstract word, Yoochun had learned three years ago. Just like love, soul, god and fear and even the word abstract itself is abstract. 'Well that's a mindfuck,' Junsu had said when Yoochun told him that and Yoochun didn't understand what that meant. He knew what fuck meant and he knew what mind meant and he knew you couldn't fuck a mind unless you kill a person by crushing their skull to bits and stick your penis into their brain. Unless with 'mind' Junsu meant the abstract equivalent which meant ratio or reason. Yoochun didn't ask.
“We can cheat if you want,” Junsu said. “I can say some rhetorical things and you just have to pen them down.”
“Okay.” Yoochun said.
“Are you insane?” Junsu said.
“No, I'm autistic.” Yoochun answered.
“No, 'Are you insane' is a rhetorical question,” Junsu explained. “Write it down.”
“I don't have a pencil and paper,” Yoochun said. “But I can memorize it.”
“Oh right, I keep forgetting that you have an elephant's memory.”
Junsu had said that before and Yoochun now knew that it was 'a figure of speech'.
“What do you want to do today, Yoochun?” Junsu asked.
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“No.”
“I want to go home.”
“Should I walk you home?”
“Okay.”
“Can I hold your hand?”
“Yes.”
Junsu was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, “May I hold your hand?”
“Yes.” Yoochun answered.
Junsu took Yoochun's hand in his own and they left the building.
Yoochun had once walked home with his eyes closed. He hadn't hit anything; he hadn't taken a single wrong turn. He knew the way home 'like the back of his hand'.
“Is someone home?” Junsu asked.
“I don't know,” Yoochun said. “Mother is supposed to be at work.”
“Good. Then you and me can spend some time together,” Junsu said and Yoochun liked that. He liked Junsu. Junsu with his bright hair. It wasn't red but it also wasn't pink. His mother called it violet once but violet was almost purple and Junsu's hair wasn't purple. Junsu smelled of violets though. He smelled of violets and of grass, like the smell in their backyard when it's early in the morning and there are still drops of water on the tips of the plants from dew. Yoochun liked that. Yoochun liked Junsu.
No one was home so Junsu came in. He only comes in when no one is home. He only goes with Yoochun to his room when no one is home. They only kiss when no one is home.
“Take off your pants,” Junsu said. “I'll make you feel good.” His lips were red from all the kissing. Junsu could make his body feel good with what rude people called fucking, what normal people called sex and what some people called intercourse. It was confusing sometimes, because the feeling is good but people say it's bad. They never explain why it's bad so Yoochun won’t stop doing it.
He took off his pants.
Junsu kissed his body; his stomach, his legs and he continued it until Yoochun got an erection and then took both their penises in one hand and stroked them until semen came out. Sometimes Junsu would eat it, like today. “You taste like love,” Junsu said and Yoochun knew it had to be some kind of metaphor because love was abstract so it could not have any taste, smell or sound. Nothing could taste like love because love didn't taste like anything.
“You smell like morning dew,” Yoochun said. “Mixed with violets.”
“That's strange,” Junsu said. “Because I don't use any soap or shampoo that smells like violets. Or morning dew.”
“Then maybe you smell like love,” Yoochun said. “And what I'm smelling isn't really real. Maybe it's abstract. Maybe it's love.”
Junsu was looking at him with his mouth open. Yoochun had learned that people had that expression when they were surprised. Junsu was surprised.
“Did they teach you about love?”
“Who?”
“Your therapists and your teachers.”
“They taught me about abstract things and they said that love was abstract and that it was a feeling. I said that it wasn't real because you couldn't see it or touch it so people must be imagining it to be real but they said that it was real only it was abstract. Like when you think of tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't real because it's not here yet. But it is real because we all know it exist so that makes it abstract.”
“Did you memorize that?” Junsu asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you do something for me?”
“Yes.”
“I mean...will you do something for me?” Junsu said.
“I don't know.” Yoochun said because he didn't know if he wanted to do what Junsu was going to ask him to do.
“Will you tell me you love me?” Junsu asked. Their bodies were not touching anymore because Yoochun didn't like touching. They were still holding hands though, because Junsu liked holding hands.
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear you say it.”
“But love is ab-”
“Please say it.” Junsu said and squeezed his hand.
“I love you.” Yoochun said and as he said it the smell of morning dew and violets filled his nostrils. It was his favourite smell, he thought.
“I love you too,” Junsu said. “Do you know how much this means to me?”
“No.” Yoochun said.
“That was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh. Thank you. Now my homework is done.”
“...You're welcome.”
Genre: Fluff...?
Pairing: Yoosu
Length: Oneshot
Rating: R
A/N: It's a bit strange...but still this is for all of you who wished me a happy birthday, thank you all so much <333
When abstract things don't exist we're left with only things that are real.
How many times have I told you...
What answer does this person expect. No answer. Then why ask the question? Why ask a question when you don't want an answer? Yoochun didn't understand.
“Do you understand what I'm saying, Yoochun?” the therapist asked.
“Yes.” Yoochun lied. He never understood, he just memorized.
“That's good. I guess that's our session for today. Your homework for this week is to note down two rhetorical questions that you hear people use. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” Yoochun said. “Is it time for me to leave?”
“Yes,” the therapist said and Yoochun stood up and walked towards the door. Outside his 'buddy' was waiting for him with a smile that was too big and hair that was too bright.
“Hello,” Yoochun said because that was appropriate in that situation. “Hello, Junsu.”
“Hello hello, Yoochun,” the bright boy said. “How was it today?”
Yoochun went over it in his head. Was this a rhetorical question? No, Junsu wanted an answer.
“It was okay,” Yoochun said. “I learned about rhetorical questions. I have to note down two rhetorical questions I hear.”
“That's awesome.” Junsu said.
A lot of things Yoochun said were 'awesome' but Yoochun never knew what made them awesome. Awesome was an abstract word, Yoochun had learned three years ago. Just like love, soul, god and fear and even the word abstract itself is abstract. 'Well that's a mindfuck,' Junsu had said when Yoochun told him that and Yoochun didn't understand what that meant. He knew what fuck meant and he knew what mind meant and he knew you couldn't fuck a mind unless you kill a person by crushing their skull to bits and stick your penis into their brain. Unless with 'mind' Junsu meant the abstract equivalent which meant ratio or reason. Yoochun didn't ask.
“We can cheat if you want,” Junsu said. “I can say some rhetorical things and you just have to pen them down.”
“Okay.” Yoochun said.
“Are you insane?” Junsu said.
“No, I'm autistic.” Yoochun answered.
“No, 'Are you insane' is a rhetorical question,” Junsu explained. “Write it down.”
“I don't have a pencil and paper,” Yoochun said. “But I can memorize it.”
“Oh right, I keep forgetting that you have an elephant's memory.”
Junsu had said that before and Yoochun now knew that it was 'a figure of speech'.
“What do you want to do today, Yoochun?” Junsu asked.
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“No.”
“I want to go home.”
“Should I walk you home?”
“Okay.”
“Can I hold your hand?”
“Yes.”
Junsu was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, “May I hold your hand?”
“Yes.” Yoochun answered.
Junsu took Yoochun's hand in his own and they left the building.
Yoochun had once walked home with his eyes closed. He hadn't hit anything; he hadn't taken a single wrong turn. He knew the way home 'like the back of his hand'.
“Is someone home?” Junsu asked.
“I don't know,” Yoochun said. “Mother is supposed to be at work.”
“Good. Then you and me can spend some time together,” Junsu said and Yoochun liked that. He liked Junsu. Junsu with his bright hair. It wasn't red but it also wasn't pink. His mother called it violet once but violet was almost purple and Junsu's hair wasn't purple. Junsu smelled of violets though. He smelled of violets and of grass, like the smell in their backyard when it's early in the morning and there are still drops of water on the tips of the plants from dew. Yoochun liked that. Yoochun liked Junsu.
No one was home so Junsu came in. He only comes in when no one is home. He only goes with Yoochun to his room when no one is home. They only kiss when no one is home.
“Take off your pants,” Junsu said. “I'll make you feel good.” His lips were red from all the kissing. Junsu could make his body feel good with what rude people called fucking, what normal people called sex and what some people called intercourse. It was confusing sometimes, because the feeling is good but people say it's bad. They never explain why it's bad so Yoochun won’t stop doing it.
He took off his pants.
Junsu kissed his body; his stomach, his legs and he continued it until Yoochun got an erection and then took both their penises in one hand and stroked them until semen came out. Sometimes Junsu would eat it, like today. “You taste like love,” Junsu said and Yoochun knew it had to be some kind of metaphor because love was abstract so it could not have any taste, smell or sound. Nothing could taste like love because love didn't taste like anything.
“You smell like morning dew,” Yoochun said. “Mixed with violets.”
“That's strange,” Junsu said. “Because I don't use any soap or shampoo that smells like violets. Or morning dew.”
“Then maybe you smell like love,” Yoochun said. “And what I'm smelling isn't really real. Maybe it's abstract. Maybe it's love.”
Junsu was looking at him with his mouth open. Yoochun had learned that people had that expression when they were surprised. Junsu was surprised.
“Did they teach you about love?”
“Who?”
“Your therapists and your teachers.”
“They taught me about abstract things and they said that love was abstract and that it was a feeling. I said that it wasn't real because you couldn't see it or touch it so people must be imagining it to be real but they said that it was real only it was abstract. Like when you think of tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't real because it's not here yet. But it is real because we all know it exist so that makes it abstract.”
“Did you memorize that?” Junsu asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you do something for me?”
“Yes.”
“I mean...will you do something for me?” Junsu said.
“I don't know.” Yoochun said because he didn't know if he wanted to do what Junsu was going to ask him to do.
“Will you tell me you love me?” Junsu asked. Their bodies were not touching anymore because Yoochun didn't like touching. They were still holding hands though, because Junsu liked holding hands.
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear you say it.”
“But love is ab-”
“Please say it.” Junsu said and squeezed his hand.
“I love you.” Yoochun said and as he said it the smell of morning dew and violets filled his nostrils. It was his favourite smell, he thought.
“I love you too,” Junsu said. “Do you know how much this means to me?”
“No.” Yoochun said.
“That was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh. Thank you. Now my homework is done.”
“...You're welcome.”