fic; yoosu, teensy jaemin
title devilchild
rating pg-13
pairing yoosu
summary Junsu knows something is wrong when Yoochun walks in and the world falls at his feet. Or, Yoochun has sold himself out. AU crack!fic.
oo1;
More than once, when they were younger, Yoochun had caught Junsu humming small melodies to himself while the older practiced the piano.
"Let's make a band," Yoochun had said to him, already intoxicated with Junsu's voice. "You be the singer. I'll play the instruments."
"Dummy," Junsu had replied. "You can't play all the instruments; we'll need more people."
And so, they started to search.
oo2;
Yunho danced better than Yoochun, winked better than Yoochun, took care of Junsu better than Yoochun. But most importantly, he played bass better than Yoochun.
"To celebrate, I'll buy all of us dinner. How about that?" Yunho had said when Junsu mumbled that he and Yoochun would very much like him to join the band, and Junsu's eyes had opened wide, his smile even wider.
"Hyung, you're the best!" the youngest of the three had shouted, latching himself on the shoulders of the oldest.
Yoochun had thought suddenly, I could be better, before he realized that jealousy got people no where.
oo3;
Changmin was taller than Yoochun, younger than Yoochun, ate more than Yoochun. He played the guitar like its neck was a piano; fluid and graceful and powerful all in one.
"I wrote you a song already," Changmin had said when Junsu told him the news. Right there, on the living room couch, Changmin had taken out his acoustic, strummed a B-flat major chord, and hummed. Just like how Junsu used to when Yoochun was practicing his piano.
"I like it," Junsu beamed, and he asked Yunho and Yoochun what the lyrics should be.
"Love? War?" Yunho supplied, although half-heartedly; he was only there to play the bass, after all.
"It should be something more personable," Yoochun quickly amended. "Something about friendship." Something about how Changmin loses. And loses and loses. And Yoochun wins. He wins everything.
Yoochun shook his head. No, he realized, rivalries do nothing for the band.
oo4;
Jaejoong was prettier than Yoochun, a better cook than Yoochun, talked more than Yoochun. Rhythm flowed from him into the drumset effortlessly; the drum sticks were a blur above the surface.
"When we live together," Jaejoong had sing-song sung to Junsu, a wink to Changmin, "I'll cook anything you want."
"This is fate," Changmin and Junsu had said together in hushed, excited voices.
Yoochun had suddenly wanted to learn how to cook anything and everything. Your fate is mine, he thought angrily, and then he realized that it had gone too far.
oo5;
Junsu notices first.
Yoochun voice is deeper, and eyes smokier, his lips fuller. His hips swivel when he walks in an act of seduction. He plays the piano like it's a sin; the sounds of club lounges and old jazz bars, long cigarettes and spirals of smoke, are tapped out of the piano strings. Every other day, a new song is written. For Junsu, always for Junsu. It's about love; it's about regret; it's about school; war; friendship. It's about angels.
"I can make you anything," Yoochun whispers one day to Junsu while they are washing dishes, Yoochun handing a dripping plate to Junsu and leaning close to his ear. Junsu suppresses a shiver. He thinks maybe Yoochun is talking about food, and dinners, but then he turns to look in those smoky eyes and sees a power that wasn't there before. No, he means anything.
oo6;
The rest start to notice when Yoochun begins to talk to himself in the bathroom, light candles in the living room, eat nothing but Skittles for two days.
"Something's wrong with Yoochun Hyung," Changmin bravely points out to Jaejoong in their shared room.
Jaejoong nods in agreement. "It's not normal to forego my meals for artificially-colored sweets."
Changmin takes a deep, satisfying sigh. "Sometimes when he's in the bathroom, talking, I feel like he really isn't just talking to himself."
Jaejoong smacks him. "Don't say things like that!" he squeaks.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry."
Then they hear a creak in the floorboards, the click of a door opening and closing, the spray of water from the faucet. How are we today?, comes Yoochun's voice--not his own, but rougher, deeper--in the bathroom next door. Then, a loud pop like a light bulb breaking.
"I'm doing just fine," Yoochun's normal, muffled voice sounds through the walls.
Jaejoong climbs into Changmin's bed and refuses to leave for the rest of the night.
oo7;
"I'm calling an emergency band meeting," Yunho announces over breakfast. "Without Yoochun." It's safe because Yoochun is still sleeping in his room shared with Junsu. Lately, he hasn't been awake for the first half of the day. "Let's begin," he continues, shoveling Jaejoong's fluffy scrambled eggs into his mouth. "Has anyone else noticed--"
"How Yoochun talks to himself in the bathroom?" Changmin interrupts.
"How he doesn't eat anything normal anymore?" Jaejoong says with a tinge of hurt.
"How he's suddenly really, really, really sexy?" Junsu finishes.
"Yeah!" Yunho agrees. "Wait, what?"
"Nothing," Junsu snaps, although his voice is a bit deflated.
oo8;
Yoochun attacks Junsu in the middle of the night, like a cat stalking its prey, eyes gleaming; he licks his lips before pouncing.
"Mmph!" Junsu counters, any resistance silenced under the blanket and Yoochun's arms.
"Don't resist, lamb," the older says, his voice low.
Junsu brings his arms up to guard his face: "I'm resisting!"
"I can't be held accountable, then, for my actions."
Junsu makes a mistake at that moment. Confused, he lets his guard down. "What?" is all he can muster before Yoochun crushes his lips to Junsu's own, Junsu's protests dying out quickly when he can taste the power behind Yoochun's teeth.
oo9;
Jaejoong refuses to leave Changmin's bed at night for the rest of the week. The pianist begins to spend more and more time in the bathroom, conversations with himself ("Or someone else," Changmin is quick to acknowledge) growing longer, the pops between voices more frequent.
"He's gone batshit crazy," Changmin whispers to Jaejoong, who is huddled next to him under the covers.
The problem is, ever since Yoochun's change, the band has been growing ever more successful.
o1o;
Junsu announces at their next band-meeting-sans-Yoochun: "Yoochun has sold his soul to the devil."
Yunho cocks his head. "Is that bad?"
"In return for fame, success, money, and everything else," Junsu explains, "Yoochun will spend eternity in Hell."
"That's bad," the bassist concludes. He takes a sip of his coffee (black), makes a face, then downs the rest of his mug.
"Should we try to get his soul back?" Changmin, ever reasonable, asks.
Jaejoong doesn't want to say anything; he's always tried to steer clear of matters involving demons, darkness, and the devil.
After a few moments in which the bandmates pretend to think of a solution, Junsu finally stands, placing his hands firmly on the table.
"I'll ask God."
And he doesn't leave his room for the next three days.
oXo;
[an] So...comments and concrit are always appreciated. And this wasn't v.v.v. cracky, but I think cracky enough. And I blame the suckiness on writing this at 3am and coming back to it at 2pm >.> The lag sort of...jumbled up any sense I may have had about it in my brain ^^'
♥
-quix.
rating pg-13
pairing yoosu
summary Junsu knows something is wrong when Yoochun walks in and the world falls at his feet. Or, Yoochun has sold himself out. AU crack!fic.
oo1;
More than once, when they were younger, Yoochun had caught Junsu humming small melodies to himself while the older practiced the piano.
"Let's make a band," Yoochun had said to him, already intoxicated with Junsu's voice. "You be the singer. I'll play the instruments."
"Dummy," Junsu had replied. "You can't play all the instruments; we'll need more people."
And so, they started to search.
oo2;
Yunho danced better than Yoochun, winked better than Yoochun, took care of Junsu better than Yoochun. But most importantly, he played bass better than Yoochun.
"To celebrate, I'll buy all of us dinner. How about that?" Yunho had said when Junsu mumbled that he and Yoochun would very much like him to join the band, and Junsu's eyes had opened wide, his smile even wider.
"Hyung, you're the best!" the youngest of the three had shouted, latching himself on the shoulders of the oldest.
Yoochun had thought suddenly, I could be better, before he realized that jealousy got people no where.
oo3;
Changmin was taller than Yoochun, younger than Yoochun, ate more than Yoochun. He played the guitar like its neck was a piano; fluid and graceful and powerful all in one.
"I wrote you a song already," Changmin had said when Junsu told him the news. Right there, on the living room couch, Changmin had taken out his acoustic, strummed a B-flat major chord, and hummed. Just like how Junsu used to when Yoochun was practicing his piano.
"I like it," Junsu beamed, and he asked Yunho and Yoochun what the lyrics should be.
"Love? War?" Yunho supplied, although half-heartedly; he was only there to play the bass, after all.
"It should be something more personable," Yoochun quickly amended. "Something about friendship." Something about how Changmin loses. And loses and loses. And Yoochun wins. He wins everything.
Yoochun shook his head. No, he realized, rivalries do nothing for the band.
oo4;
Jaejoong was prettier than Yoochun, a better cook than Yoochun, talked more than Yoochun. Rhythm flowed from him into the drumset effortlessly; the drum sticks were a blur above the surface.
"When we live together," Jaejoong had sing-song sung to Junsu, a wink to Changmin, "I'll cook anything you want."
"This is fate," Changmin and Junsu had said together in hushed, excited voices.
Yoochun had suddenly wanted to learn how to cook anything and everything. Your fate is mine, he thought angrily, and then he realized that it had gone too far.
oo5;
Junsu notices first.
Yoochun voice is deeper, and eyes smokier, his lips fuller. His hips swivel when he walks in an act of seduction. He plays the piano like it's a sin; the sounds of club lounges and old jazz bars, long cigarettes and spirals of smoke, are tapped out of the piano strings. Every other day, a new song is written. For Junsu, always for Junsu. It's about love; it's about regret; it's about school; war; friendship. It's about angels.
"I can make you anything," Yoochun whispers one day to Junsu while they are washing dishes, Yoochun handing a dripping plate to Junsu and leaning close to his ear. Junsu suppresses a shiver. He thinks maybe Yoochun is talking about food, and dinners, but then he turns to look in those smoky eyes and sees a power that wasn't there before. No, he means anything.
oo6;
The rest start to notice when Yoochun begins to talk to himself in the bathroom, light candles in the living room, eat nothing but Skittles for two days.
"Something's wrong with Yoochun Hyung," Changmin bravely points out to Jaejoong in their shared room.
Jaejoong nods in agreement. "It's not normal to forego my meals for artificially-colored sweets."
Changmin takes a deep, satisfying sigh. "Sometimes when he's in the bathroom, talking, I feel like he really isn't just talking to himself."
Jaejoong smacks him. "Don't say things like that!" he squeaks.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry."
Then they hear a creak in the floorboards, the click of a door opening and closing, the spray of water from the faucet. How are we today?, comes Yoochun's voice--not his own, but rougher, deeper--in the bathroom next door. Then, a loud pop like a light bulb breaking.
"I'm doing just fine," Yoochun's normal, muffled voice sounds through the walls.
Jaejoong climbs into Changmin's bed and refuses to leave for the rest of the night.
oo7;
"I'm calling an emergency band meeting," Yunho announces over breakfast. "Without Yoochun." It's safe because Yoochun is still sleeping in his room shared with Junsu. Lately, he hasn't been awake for the first half of the day. "Let's begin," he continues, shoveling Jaejoong's fluffy scrambled eggs into his mouth. "Has anyone else noticed--"
"How Yoochun talks to himself in the bathroom?" Changmin interrupts.
"How he doesn't eat anything normal anymore?" Jaejoong says with a tinge of hurt.
"How he's suddenly really, really, really sexy?" Junsu finishes.
"Yeah!" Yunho agrees. "Wait, what?"
"Nothing," Junsu snaps, although his voice is a bit deflated.
oo8;
Yoochun attacks Junsu in the middle of the night, like a cat stalking its prey, eyes gleaming; he licks his lips before pouncing.
"Mmph!" Junsu counters, any resistance silenced under the blanket and Yoochun's arms.
"Don't resist, lamb," the older says, his voice low.
Junsu brings his arms up to guard his face: "I'm resisting!"
"I can't be held accountable, then, for my actions."
Junsu makes a mistake at that moment. Confused, he lets his guard down. "What?" is all he can muster before Yoochun crushes his lips to Junsu's own, Junsu's protests dying out quickly when he can taste the power behind Yoochun's teeth.
oo9;
Jaejoong refuses to leave Changmin's bed at night for the rest of the week. The pianist begins to spend more and more time in the bathroom, conversations with himself ("Or someone else," Changmin is quick to acknowledge) growing longer, the pops between voices more frequent.
"He's gone batshit crazy," Changmin whispers to Jaejoong, who is huddled next to him under the covers.
The problem is, ever since Yoochun's change, the band has been growing ever more successful.
o1o;
Junsu announces at their next band-meeting-sans-Yoochun: "Yoochun has sold his soul to the devil."
Yunho cocks his head. "Is that bad?"
"In return for fame, success, money, and everything else," Junsu explains, "Yoochun will spend eternity in Hell."
"That's bad," the bassist concludes. He takes a sip of his coffee (black), makes a face, then downs the rest of his mug.
"Should we try to get his soul back?" Changmin, ever reasonable, asks.
Jaejoong doesn't want to say anything; he's always tried to steer clear of matters involving demons, darkness, and the devil.
After a few moments in which the bandmates pretend to think of a solution, Junsu finally stands, placing his hands firmly on the table.
"I'll ask God."
And he doesn't leave his room for the next three days.
oXo;
[an] So...comments and concrit are always appreciated. And this wasn't v.v.v. cracky, but I think cracky enough. And I blame the suckiness on writing this at 3am and coming back to it at 2pm >.> The lag sort of...jumbled up any sense I may have had about it in my brain ^^'
♥
-quix.