Black Rose (1/?)
1 year ago.
It was a natural part of their relationship; Doojoon would kick Yoseob out, Yoseob would leave, then return the next day in some bizarre manner. Whether it was climbing through their kitchen window, which was always open, or picking the front door’s lock, or sneaking through the makeshift attic which connected all the apartments to one another, Yoseob would always be cuddled up next to Doojoon in bed the next morning. Doojoon would stroke his boyfriend’s hair lovingly, observing the younger who seemed so peaceful. Doojoon would not give a single thought towards what had happened last night, or last week, or last year. He lived to capture the moment. So why wasn’t the younger here right now? Doojoon’s expression became worried. It had always been....this way, but yesterday’s fight had seemed really, really harsh.
The black-haired man sat up, tangled in a multitude of sheets. His bare chest glimmered with sweat from the night’s humidity. “Yoseob?” he called softly, though it was loud enough to reverberate and echo throughout the entire house. “Yoseobie?” Doojoon slid his legs over the side of the bed, his silver basketball shorts concealing muscular thighs. He sauntered into the bathroom, looking around, then checking his reflection. He figured that Yoseob must be a little angry toward him, but nonetheless, the younger would be making a tasty, Korean breakfast in the kitchen. Maybe it was quite a large assumption, as Doojoon didn’t smell the familiar spices that were so prominent in his childhood. The man exited the bedroom, then searched the house for his lover. He looked in the living room, in the kitchen, even in the fucking pantry, where he had once locked Yoseob as a punishment.
“Yoseob-ah?” he was shouting now. “Yang Yoseob?!” No reply. Doojoon grew frantic, opening his front door, peering out into the nearly deserted hallway. He only saw Mrs. Han, the grumpy, old busybody from two doors down walking past, staring at his toned frame with hunger in her black eyes. What a perverted lady.
After throwing on a coat and looking around outside, in the windy weather, Doojoon let out an exasperated sigh. He retreated back to his home, and almost broke down in sobs. He couldn’t live without Yoseob. Yoseob was what kept him from going insane. Fuck, where was Yoseob? Doojoon somehow knew, at the back of his mind, that Yoseob was gone. That he wouldn’t come back willingly, at the snap of his hyung’s fingers. The truth hit him with the brute force of a wrecking ball, shattering all the walls he had put up over the years,which had blockaded the emotions that secured his humanity. It was as though he was burning, crumpling, breaking, over and over. The world seemed to stop for a moment.
Shit.
Yoseob had left him.
* * *Kikwang shuddered, as his boyfriend cracked the sickest joke in the history of jokes. “Dongwoon!” he shrieked, bursting out into spasms of laughter, letting the blissfully ignorant feeling of love wrap itself around him. He didn’t, however, fail to notice Yoseob watching from the kitchen door, with a sad, wistful smile plastered on his face.
When Kikwang thought about Doojoon and Yoseob as lovers, he knew that they were made for each other. It was so evident; whenever Yoseob had hung out with Kikwang, he would never shut up about Doojoon. That was the first year. Then, time slowly began to pass...and things turned out to be...complicated.
Actually, Kikwang had not worried too much about his best friend at first, but when Yoseob started to come to him with cuts, and bruises, and sore body parts, that’s when he knew something was wrong. And he had tried to discourage the now-brunette boy, but it had been no use. Yoseob refused to listen. Until last summer, when he had come to Kikwang, absolutely hysterical.
Yoseob had begged for a place to stay (Kikwang would have never denied him that in the first place; the two were practically like brothers) and help finding a job. That was when the short, muscular man was sure that Doojoon and Yoseob’s relationship had turned sour.
So Kikwang had gladly helped his hyung, providing for him and nurturing him through that hard time. And even though Kikwang had become good friends with Doojoon over the years, he swore that the next time he saw Yoseob’s ex-boyfriend, he would strangle him to death.
Yoseob’s expression became slightly dull as he met Kikwang’s concerned eyes. However, the elder sent him a reassuring grin.
Yoseob enjoyed seeing pure love. It cleansed the some of the grit out of the emotional wounds he had received a year ago.
Just a year ago. It was astounding, really, how little time had passed since he had broke it off with Doojoon, without uttering a word. It already seemed like many lifetimes had passed, that he should now be rotting in a wooden coffin buried in the earth or have his gray ashes scattered into the blue, independent ocean.
Independence. Freedom. It’s your life, Yang Yoseob. These thoughts had been plaguing him for a while now. Yoseob obviously was sure that he was released from the shackles of...the way Doojoon wanted them to live. But his heart still ached for his hyung.
Finding Kikwang staring at him, anxiously, as though he was a china doll on a high shelf, Yoseob shuffled backwards, back into the kitchen, where he continued to make carbonara for himself, Dongwoon, and Kikwang.
Yoseob had known Dongwoon since they were in high school, and he was definitely glad that his best friend was dating this sweet, cute, yet hilariously immature soul. Dongwoon was the kind of guy Kikwang needed; caring, yet not too clingy. Funny, but not lacking seriousness every moment. Yoseob always wished that he had found someone exactly like Dongwoon, even though he knew that he could never love the latter.
Doojoon. Yoseob’s eyes became tear-filled whenever he thought of him. The wooden spoon clanged noisily into the sink, and the boy sank down to his knees, his face buried in his palms. All he thought about was Doojoon, or something related to Doojoon, or something so vague that would eventually come back to Doojoon.
Yoseob’s world had revolved around no one but Doojoon.
* * *Doojoon slammed his soju bottle down, hard, on the bar counter. Junhyung sat next to him, and they began to examine the multiplicity of girls that passed them by, on their way to the crowded dance floor.
“So. You and Hyunseung have a fight or something?” Doojoon’s words were slightly slurred, pulled together by the effect of the alcohol. Junhyung was dating Hyunseung, and although those two had a good relationship, it was always rocky.
“Huh? Yeah. Something about...my attitude...” Junhyung mumbled. He was quite a good drinker, and could stomach pints of alcohol at a time, so the addicting substance had not taken a toll on him.
“Oh. Well. Hope everything turns out okay.” Doojoon raised his bottle clumsily and took a big swig. Life nowadays had become very tedious. He was known as the bad boy, the player, in his community. It was tough, keeping his job (which paid well), having fun to ease...the pain...during the night, and now making sure that he held up this reputation. He didn’t like people approaching him, he preferred it if they were disgusted. Then his memories would stay in the deep crevices of his mind.
Doojoon got up off the red stool, and made his way to the center of the dance floor. People were grinding with each other, and droplets of sweat were flying, reflecting the hues of the rainbow strobe lights.
As Doojoon chose a victim for the night- a slim Chinese girl who looked extremely drunk- fuzzy images flashed through his mind.
Yoseob.
Yoseob.
Yoseob.
And then Yoseob was there, his innocent, hurt, and confused eyes staring at Doojoon. Doojoon reached out, but the other boy stepped back.
“Yoseob-ah?” Doojoon’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. It cracked on the second syllable.
“Doojoon.” the latter’s voice held awe, as well as an immense amount of sadness. It was nothing more than a breath, and then Yoseob vanished into the thick crowd.
Doojoon ripped himself away from the girl, pushing through the throng of people.
“Yoseob?!” he screamed continuously. No one seemed to hear him, either from the deafening volume of the music, or from being immersed in their own, carefree world, Doojoon knew not.
He somehow ended up in the arms of Junhyung, hysterically calling for his ex-boyfriend.
“Doojoon. Doojoon?” Junhyung’s forehead was crinkled in worry.
“Jun...Junhyung...It’s Yoseob. I saw Yoseob.” Doojoon began to cry.
Junhyung just wrapped his arms around the elder and helped him to his car. He didn’t know if he questioned Doojoon’s sanity...and at the moment, that was not what concerned him. He really felt uneasy about the way his best friend would not learn to live without Yoseob.
Sure, he sympathized with both Yoseob and Doojoon, but Junhyung knew one thing for sure.
Yoon Doojoon needed to learn how to let things go.
Title: Black Rose
Pairings: main!DooSeob, side!JunSeung, Kiwoon, friendship!KiSeob
Characters: B2ST, 4minute
Rating: PG-13 for now, will go up later
Disclaimer/Warning: I do not own the characters, just the plot. Mature themes, some violence, a bit of angst.
Summary: The past can’t be forgotten, nor can it be changed. The past affects the future. Yoseob knows that quite well.
It was a natural part of their relationship; Doojoon would kick Yoseob out, Yoseob would leave, then return the next day in some bizarre manner. Whether it was climbing through their kitchen window, which was always open, or picking the front door’s lock, or sneaking through the makeshift attic which connected all the apartments to one another, Yoseob would always be cuddled up next to Doojoon in bed the next morning. Doojoon would stroke his boyfriend’s hair lovingly, observing the younger who seemed so peaceful. Doojoon would not give a single thought towards what had happened last night, or last week, or last year. He lived to capture the moment. So why wasn’t the younger here right now? Doojoon’s expression became worried. It had always been....this way, but yesterday’s fight had seemed really, really harsh.
The black-haired man sat up, tangled in a multitude of sheets. His bare chest glimmered with sweat from the night’s humidity. “Yoseob?” he called softly, though it was loud enough to reverberate and echo throughout the entire house. “Yoseobie?” Doojoon slid his legs over the side of the bed, his silver basketball shorts concealing muscular thighs. He sauntered into the bathroom, looking around, then checking his reflection. He figured that Yoseob must be a little angry toward him, but nonetheless, the younger would be making a tasty, Korean breakfast in the kitchen. Maybe it was quite a large assumption, as Doojoon didn’t smell the familiar spices that were so prominent in his childhood. The man exited the bedroom, then searched the house for his lover. He looked in the living room, in the kitchen, even in the fucking pantry, where he had once locked Yoseob as a punishment.
“Yoseob-ah?” he was shouting now. “Yang Yoseob?!” No reply. Doojoon grew frantic, opening his front door, peering out into the nearly deserted hallway. He only saw Mrs. Han, the grumpy, old busybody from two doors down walking past, staring at his toned frame with hunger in her black eyes. What a perverted lady.
After throwing on a coat and looking around outside, in the windy weather, Doojoon let out an exasperated sigh. He retreated back to his home, and almost broke down in sobs. He couldn’t live without Yoseob. Yoseob was what kept him from going insane. Fuck, where was Yoseob? Doojoon somehow knew, at the back of his mind, that Yoseob was gone. That he wouldn’t come back willingly, at the snap of his hyung’s fingers. The truth hit him with the brute force of a wrecking ball, shattering all the walls he had put up over the years,which had blockaded the emotions that secured his humanity. It was as though he was burning, crumpling, breaking, over and over. The world seemed to stop for a moment.
Shit.
Yoseob had left him.
* * *Kikwang shuddered, as his boyfriend cracked the sickest joke in the history of jokes. “Dongwoon!” he shrieked, bursting out into spasms of laughter, letting the blissfully ignorant feeling of love wrap itself around him. He didn’t, however, fail to notice Yoseob watching from the kitchen door, with a sad, wistful smile plastered on his face.
When Kikwang thought about Doojoon and Yoseob as lovers, he knew that they were made for each other. It was so evident; whenever Yoseob had hung out with Kikwang, he would never shut up about Doojoon. That was the first year. Then, time slowly began to pass...and things turned out to be...complicated.
Actually, Kikwang had not worried too much about his best friend at first, but when Yoseob started to come to him with cuts, and bruises, and sore body parts, that’s when he knew something was wrong. And he had tried to discourage the now-brunette boy, but it had been no use. Yoseob refused to listen. Until last summer, when he had come to Kikwang, absolutely hysterical.
Yoseob had begged for a place to stay (Kikwang would have never denied him that in the first place; the two were practically like brothers) and help finding a job. That was when the short, muscular man was sure that Doojoon and Yoseob’s relationship had turned sour.
So Kikwang had gladly helped his hyung, providing for him and nurturing him through that hard time. And even though Kikwang had become good friends with Doojoon over the years, he swore that the next time he saw Yoseob’s ex-boyfriend, he would strangle him to death.
Yoseob’s expression became slightly dull as he met Kikwang’s concerned eyes. However, the elder sent him a reassuring grin.
Yoseob enjoyed seeing pure love. It cleansed the some of the grit out of the emotional wounds he had received a year ago.
Just a year ago. It was astounding, really, how little time had passed since he had broke it off with Doojoon, without uttering a word. It already seemed like many lifetimes had passed, that he should now be rotting in a wooden coffin buried in the earth or have his gray ashes scattered into the blue, independent ocean.
Independence. Freedom. It’s your life, Yang Yoseob. These thoughts had been plaguing him for a while now. Yoseob obviously was sure that he was released from the shackles of...the way Doojoon wanted them to live. But his heart still ached for his hyung.
Finding Kikwang staring at him, anxiously, as though he was a china doll on a high shelf, Yoseob shuffled backwards, back into the kitchen, where he continued to make carbonara for himself, Dongwoon, and Kikwang.
Yoseob had known Dongwoon since they were in high school, and he was definitely glad that his best friend was dating this sweet, cute, yet hilariously immature soul. Dongwoon was the kind of guy Kikwang needed; caring, yet not too clingy. Funny, but not lacking seriousness every moment. Yoseob always wished that he had found someone exactly like Dongwoon, even though he knew that he could never love the latter.
Doojoon. Yoseob’s eyes became tear-filled whenever he thought of him. The wooden spoon clanged noisily into the sink, and the boy sank down to his knees, his face buried in his palms. All he thought about was Doojoon, or something related to Doojoon, or something so vague that would eventually come back to Doojoon.
Yoseob’s world had revolved around no one but Doojoon.
* * *Doojoon slammed his soju bottle down, hard, on the bar counter. Junhyung sat next to him, and they began to examine the multiplicity of girls that passed them by, on their way to the crowded dance floor.
“So. You and Hyunseung have a fight or something?” Doojoon’s words were slightly slurred, pulled together by the effect of the alcohol. Junhyung was dating Hyunseung, and although those two had a good relationship, it was always rocky.
“Huh? Yeah. Something about...my attitude...” Junhyung mumbled. He was quite a good drinker, and could stomach pints of alcohol at a time, so the addicting substance had not taken a toll on him.
“Oh. Well. Hope everything turns out okay.” Doojoon raised his bottle clumsily and took a big swig. Life nowadays had become very tedious. He was known as the bad boy, the player, in his community. It was tough, keeping his job (which paid well), having fun to ease...the pain...during the night, and now making sure that he held up this reputation. He didn’t like people approaching him, he preferred it if they were disgusted. Then his memories would stay in the deep crevices of his mind.
Doojoon got up off the red stool, and made his way to the center of the dance floor. People were grinding with each other, and droplets of sweat were flying, reflecting the hues of the rainbow strobe lights.
As Doojoon chose a victim for the night- a slim Chinese girl who looked extremely drunk- fuzzy images flashed through his mind.
Yoseob.
Yoseob.
Yoseob.
And then Yoseob was there, his innocent, hurt, and confused eyes staring at Doojoon. Doojoon reached out, but the other boy stepped back.
“Yoseob-ah?” Doojoon’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. It cracked on the second syllable.
“Doojoon.” the latter’s voice held awe, as well as an immense amount of sadness. It was nothing more than a breath, and then Yoseob vanished into the thick crowd.
Doojoon ripped himself away from the girl, pushing through the throng of people.
“Yoseob?!” he screamed continuously. No one seemed to hear him, either from the deafening volume of the music, or from being immersed in their own, carefree world, Doojoon knew not.
He somehow ended up in the arms of Junhyung, hysterically calling for his ex-boyfriend.
“Doojoon. Doojoon?” Junhyung’s forehead was crinkled in worry.
“Jun...Junhyung...It’s Yoseob. I saw Yoseob.” Doojoon began to cry.
Junhyung just wrapped his arms around the elder and helped him to his car. He didn’t know if he questioned Doojoon’s sanity...and at the moment, that was not what concerned him. He really felt uneasy about the way his best friend would not learn to live without Yoseob.
Sure, he sympathized with both Yoseob and Doojoon, but Junhyung knew one thing for sure.
Yoon Doojoon needed to learn how to let things go.
Title: Black Rose
Pairings: main!DooSeob, side!JunSeung, Kiwoon, friendship!KiSeob
Characters: B2ST, 4minute
Rating: PG-13 for now, will go up later
Disclaimer/Warning: I do not own the characters, just the plot. Mature themes, some violence, a bit of angst.
Summary: The past can’t be forgotten, nor can it be changed. The past affects the future. Yoseob knows that quite well.