stained glass: prologue
stained glass: prologue
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ fc
romance | drama | angst | AU | pg-13
+2, 000 words
summary: of drag queens and crime; lust denied and fulfilled.
a/n: finally! I’ve had this idea for so long but didn’t have time to write it out. Warning: contains drag-queens!jaechun, mafia!homin and violence. and there will be another pairing along the way, but i'll keep that a secret for now. heh. unbeta-ed.
--
Prologue;
“Don’t-“
“You like it.”
“We shouldn’t. Jaejin-eonni…ahhhh…eonni will kill me.”
“No, she won’t. She loves you, pretty.”
“All the more reason for her to kill me. And you. God- Stop-Nghh-“
“…”
“Damn it-”
“Scream my name, Yoonayah…”
“No- Uhh! Oh!”
Jaejoong paced back and forth in the dressing room, face distorted by anger and certainly not amused by Yoochun’s tardiness. His sequined dark blue dress clung uncomfortably to his skin, and while he had scrubbed most of the make-up off, the grimy feel of non-comedogenic cosmetic was still heavy on his skin. His fake lashes fluttered prettily on his cheeks, fanning the hot flush of his skin as he breathed deep, willing his anger to reason itself and reminding himself to listen to Yoochun’s excuse - when he gets his fucking late ass here.
He chanced a look at the clock. It’s already 5 a.m. and he should really be dozing off on his bed for an hour by now. Yoochun was unreasonably late, and he should know better that Jaejoong hates waiting for people. If Jaejoong was cruel enough, he could have just walk home on his own, but he’s not like that and damn it if Yoochun did not know it (and used it to his advantage). There is no way he would leave Yoochun and goes home - that boy’s going to get pounced on if he as much as walk alone in the red light district.
Jaejoong looked at his own reflection, as he continued to remove his fake lashes. A pretty sneer was steadfast on his reddish lips, one corner quirked upward in an unforgiving curl. He brushed his fingers through his straight black wig, the longish bangs sweeping upwards revealing a smooth forehead and curved brows. He managed a smile, stretching his lips slowly and imitating the innocent bashfulness of a maiden.
Perfect. No one could have guessed I’m the number one drag queen of Aknyeo.
The door opened and in came Yoochun, apologetic face and ‘sorry’ sputtering out his mouth the instant he saw Jaejoong’s irritated gaze. Jaejoong huffed, pushing cotton pads and make-up remover into Yoochun’s hands and telling him to clean his face. Yoochun still did not stop apologizing.
“Shut your trap, Chunnie. Fucking hurry and clean up so we can go home. I don’t want to know what keeps you long past your shift, but I certainly wish that you’d at least have some conscience over my well-being and let me get home on time.”
Taking out his wig, he placed it on top of one of the mannequin heads, careful to ensure the hair didn’t get tangled. He strutted towards their lockers and took out his shirt and jeans, and threw Yoochun his. He changed in record time, slipping out of his heels into his comfortable boots, relishing the feel of his feet touching flat surfaces.
Yoochun pulled off his skirt and replaced it with his jeans, toeing off his strap-on heels to slip onto a pair of slippers.
“I promise it won’t happen again, hyung. I know I’ve said it so many times before, but this is the last time. I won’t make you wait again.”
Jaejoong looked at the slightly younger man suspiciously.
“Are you telling me you’re leaving Aknyeo for Kang Donghoon, Chunnie?”
“You know Donghoon-sshi?”, Yoochun was gaping. Jaejoong had to resist rolling his eyes.
“Yes, I know him. I was the one who introduced him to you, remember? That pervert. Anyone would have had remember him, whether they want to or not.”, Jaejoong cringed visibly at the memory of the said man sliding a lusty hand up his thigh. Jaejoong had felt terrible shoving Donghoon to Yoochun, but Yoochun always knew what to do with those kinds of men. Those kinds of men always listen to what Yoochun says, no touching means no touching when Yoochun said it. With Jaejoong, the same thing seems to take a reverse effect, and he growled at the cruelty of his fate.
“Hmm, nevermind. No, I’m not leaving Aknyeo for anyone. I’m just saying I’m going to be more thoughtful and not leave you here waiting for me like this again.”
Jaejoong snorted and Yoochun chuckled, slinging a hand across Jaejoong’s shoulder,
“I’ll buy you late supper?- or is it early breakfast?”
“I’m on diet.”
“Pfft. I know good samgyupsal stall nearby.”
“Pork for me, Chun? I know you’ve always been jealous of my figure.”
“Aha, you wish! We both know between the two of us, I have slimmer legs.”
“Those skinny legs of yours are the only pleasant thing on you, you know?”
Yoochun tsks, flicking a manicured finger on the tip of Jaejoong’s nose, “So pretty yet so ill-mannered. What am I going to do with you, JoongJoong-bug?”
“Call me that one more time and I’ll chop off your dick while you sleep!”
*
Yunho exhaled the smoke, letting it curls and blooms prettily under the harsh neon lights. He tapped his foot impatiently against the concrete pavement, eyes hard and brooding, lips tight with no hint of a smile. His grey wife-beater reeked of sweat, dried blood and soju, and he feels sticky and uncomfortable, too warm in the autumn night.
Changmin was holding a man by the collar, his fist pounding mercilessly on the other’s jaw until he choked out blood and a tooth. Yunho watched the commotion with a disinterested look, spitting tobacco-stained saliva onto the ground before telling Changmin to stop.
“Look, ahjusshi. We don’t want to do this to you. You got daughters-“
“Stay away from my daughters!”
Yunho laughed, eerily smooth.
“I have no interest in your daughters, ahjusshi. Just pay hyung back, and there’ll be no problem.”
“I have no mon-“
“Not my problem. You borrow, you pay. It’s the only way this goes, ahjusshi.”
“You guys are too cruel! You have no respect for people!” The old man spat out, pushing futilely against Changmin’s chest. Yunho sneered and turned his back towards him, before turning back in a flash to punch the man, sending him sprawling on the gritty tar. Changmin had already conveniently stepped back, and was grinning now.
“People like you are the ones who know nothing about respect. You borrowed money with the intention to make life better for your family, but then you finished them all on some pretty men-whores and gambling. We’ve stained our hands by beating you. Min, lets go. We have no further business with this man.”
Yunho walked away as Changmin followed closely behind, fresh new cigarette lighted and clasped between his fingers.
*
The sound of sobbing filtered through the dark house, and Junsu sighed again, tossing around in bed and pulling the covers over himself, trying to block off the heartbreaking cries. He knew what happened - God he had lost count of how many times his sleep was interrupted by the sound of his older sister crying over her unsalvageable marriage.
He felt tears staining his pillow, and realized instantly he too had been crying. For what, Junsu couldn’t say. He has long ceased to care for his noona, since she insisted on staying with her husband and literally kept them in this house from hell.
Damn that Kang Donghoon. Adulterer and a fucking pervert of a brother-in-law. Junsu hated it when his sister cries, but he hated it more for not being able to do anything. He was only 19, barely legal and not yet the age where he was allowed to do anything he pleases. Twenty just doesn’t come quickly enough for the restless teen, and being caged up in a household where everyone is suffering certainly did not make waiting for freedom much easier.
He had thought of running away - far from Seoul, probably to Gongju where he knows no one and no one knows him - and starts everything all over again. He would probably take Jisun-noona if she wants to follow, but he doubted his sister is willing to leave her stupid husband. But Junsu could not leave his nephews and niece behind - Donghae, Daesung and Dambi are the only reason Junsu still sticks around. He didn’t trust his sister at all, knowing how she couldn’t bother to care for her children in her distressed state. She used to be such a fighter, Junsu mused. Nowadays, all she did was crying and drinking herself into a stupor, while her kids shied away in a corner calling helplessly for their mother.
Junsu can’t bear to look at the kids’ face. If he did he would cry - and the three needed him to be strong. He was the only reliable adult left.
The door creaked, and he turned to see four year-old Dambi at the door, clutching her teddy bear as she poked her head in, looking absolutely miserable.
“Junsu-appa?”, she mouthed, trying to search for her uncle in the darkness. Junsu jumped out of his bed, walking quickly to hold the girl in his arm, running a soothing hand across her back as she sniffled.
“Don’t be scared…I’m here. Where’s your oppa-deul, Dambiyah?”
“Daesung-oppa is in the toilet, he doesn’t want to come out…Donghae-oppa says he wants to go downstairs…to Omma. I don’t want to go to Omma…”
Junsu’s eyes widened, as he gathered Dambi and went downstairs, in the hunt for his overly brave eight year-old nephew. He passed the toilet on his way, and he could hear Daesung sobbing softly inside, obviously scared. He figured it would be better to find the eldest of the three first before coming up to the seven year-old Daesung, since Donghae was in much greater danger than the mild-mannered Daesungie.
He found Donghae hiding behind the couch, crying into his raised knees and folded arms. When he came nearer, the boy’s head shot up in alarm, before he scrambled up and ran towards Junsu in fear, hugging Junsu’s waist tightly.
“Omma threw a bottle at me, Junsu-appa....”
“Shit- Are you hurt, Donghae?”
Donghae shook his head and Junsu breathed in relief. From the living room, he could see his sister in the kitchen, bottles of vodka and wine strewn across the kitchen, some empty and broken. He would wait till morning before attempting to clean the mess up. For now, the most important thing was to ensure the kids’ safety. With that last thought, Junsu mounted the stairs, carrying Dambi and holding tightly to Donghae’s hand, heading towards the toilet to get Daesung out so they could sleep together in Junsu’s room, away from their almost deranged mother.
*
A rough cough and a desperate call for help alarmed Jaejoong, and before he could do anything, he was already running to catch up with Yoochun, who was already turning into a small alley that smells off urine and something more. Jaejoong winced as Yoochun knelt down beside a stranger who was bleeding steadily from a gash in his face, and he knew he had no choice but to join the two.
“Hyung! Come and help me here! Someone attacked this old man!”, Yoochun half-screamed towards him as Jaejoong jogged to where he was sitting, holding the man’s head on his thighs. Pulling the half-conscious man up, they both worked around dragging the man to their nearby apartment, not wanting to leave the man dying just outside their home.
A bowl of warm soup and few painful hissing later, the old man was tearfully retelling the story of his unfortunate meeting with the thugs, and Jaejoong scorned in distaste at the sheer brute that the thugs use to get away with thing. Yoochun merely nodded and sympathized, he can’t do anything anyway so might as well keep the opinion to himself.
“Those useless bastards could go die and rot in hell for what they do to people. The world would be more peaceful without them around.”, Jaejoong had uttered with contempt as he cleaned up their meals. The man had excused himself after resting a while, and by morning the man was gone, leaving a note of ‘thank you’ on a piece of paper torn from the old newspaper and a click of the front door.
--[TBC]
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ fc
romance | drama | angst | AU | pg-13
+2, 000 words
summary: of drag queens and crime; lust denied and fulfilled.
a/n: finally! I’ve had this idea for so long but didn’t have time to write it out. Warning: contains drag-queens!jaechun, mafia!homin and violence. and there will be another pairing along the way, but i'll keep that a secret for now. heh. unbeta-ed.
--
Prologue;
“Don’t-“
“You like it.”
“We shouldn’t. Jaejin-eonni…ahhhh…eonni will kill me.”
“No, she won’t. She loves you, pretty.”
“All the more reason for her to kill me. And you. God- Stop-Nghh-“
“…”
“Damn it-”
“Scream my name, Yoonayah…”
“No- Uhh! Oh!”
Jaejoong paced back and forth in the dressing room, face distorted by anger and certainly not amused by Yoochun’s tardiness. His sequined dark blue dress clung uncomfortably to his skin, and while he had scrubbed most of the make-up off, the grimy feel of non-comedogenic cosmetic was still heavy on his skin. His fake lashes fluttered prettily on his cheeks, fanning the hot flush of his skin as he breathed deep, willing his anger to reason itself and reminding himself to listen to Yoochun’s excuse - when he gets his fucking late ass here.
He chanced a look at the clock. It’s already 5 a.m. and he should really be dozing off on his bed for an hour by now. Yoochun was unreasonably late, and he should know better that Jaejoong hates waiting for people. If Jaejoong was cruel enough, he could have just walk home on his own, but he’s not like that and damn it if Yoochun did not know it (and used it to his advantage). There is no way he would leave Yoochun and goes home - that boy’s going to get pounced on if he as much as walk alone in the red light district.
Jaejoong looked at his own reflection, as he continued to remove his fake lashes. A pretty sneer was steadfast on his reddish lips, one corner quirked upward in an unforgiving curl. He brushed his fingers through his straight black wig, the longish bangs sweeping upwards revealing a smooth forehead and curved brows. He managed a smile, stretching his lips slowly and imitating the innocent bashfulness of a maiden.
Perfect. No one could have guessed I’m the number one drag queen of Aknyeo.
The door opened and in came Yoochun, apologetic face and ‘sorry’ sputtering out his mouth the instant he saw Jaejoong’s irritated gaze. Jaejoong huffed, pushing cotton pads and make-up remover into Yoochun’s hands and telling him to clean his face. Yoochun still did not stop apologizing.
“Shut your trap, Chunnie. Fucking hurry and clean up so we can go home. I don’t want to know what keeps you long past your shift, but I certainly wish that you’d at least have some conscience over my well-being and let me get home on time.”
Taking out his wig, he placed it on top of one of the mannequin heads, careful to ensure the hair didn’t get tangled. He strutted towards their lockers and took out his shirt and jeans, and threw Yoochun his. He changed in record time, slipping out of his heels into his comfortable boots, relishing the feel of his feet touching flat surfaces.
Yoochun pulled off his skirt and replaced it with his jeans, toeing off his strap-on heels to slip onto a pair of slippers.
“I promise it won’t happen again, hyung. I know I’ve said it so many times before, but this is the last time. I won’t make you wait again.”
Jaejoong looked at the slightly younger man suspiciously.
“Are you telling me you’re leaving Aknyeo for Kang Donghoon, Chunnie?”
“You know Donghoon-sshi?”, Yoochun was gaping. Jaejoong had to resist rolling his eyes.
“Yes, I know him. I was the one who introduced him to you, remember? That pervert. Anyone would have had remember him, whether they want to or not.”, Jaejoong cringed visibly at the memory of the said man sliding a lusty hand up his thigh. Jaejoong had felt terrible shoving Donghoon to Yoochun, but Yoochun always knew what to do with those kinds of men. Those kinds of men always listen to what Yoochun says, no touching means no touching when Yoochun said it. With Jaejoong, the same thing seems to take a reverse effect, and he growled at the cruelty of his fate.
“Hmm, nevermind. No, I’m not leaving Aknyeo for anyone. I’m just saying I’m going to be more thoughtful and not leave you here waiting for me like this again.”
Jaejoong snorted and Yoochun chuckled, slinging a hand across Jaejoong’s shoulder,
“I’ll buy you late supper?- or is it early breakfast?”
“I’m on diet.”
“Pfft. I know good samgyupsal stall nearby.”
“Pork for me, Chun? I know you’ve always been jealous of my figure.”
“Aha, you wish! We both know between the two of us, I have slimmer legs.”
“Those skinny legs of yours are the only pleasant thing on you, you know?”
Yoochun tsks, flicking a manicured finger on the tip of Jaejoong’s nose, “So pretty yet so ill-mannered. What am I going to do with you, JoongJoong-bug?”
“Call me that one more time and I’ll chop off your dick while you sleep!”
*
Yunho exhaled the smoke, letting it curls and blooms prettily under the harsh neon lights. He tapped his foot impatiently against the concrete pavement, eyes hard and brooding, lips tight with no hint of a smile. His grey wife-beater reeked of sweat, dried blood and soju, and he feels sticky and uncomfortable, too warm in the autumn night.
Changmin was holding a man by the collar, his fist pounding mercilessly on the other’s jaw until he choked out blood and a tooth. Yunho watched the commotion with a disinterested look, spitting tobacco-stained saliva onto the ground before telling Changmin to stop.
“Look, ahjusshi. We don’t want to do this to you. You got daughters-“
“Stay away from my daughters!”
Yunho laughed, eerily smooth.
“I have no interest in your daughters, ahjusshi. Just pay hyung back, and there’ll be no problem.”
“I have no mon-“
“Not my problem. You borrow, you pay. It’s the only way this goes, ahjusshi.”
“You guys are too cruel! You have no respect for people!” The old man spat out, pushing futilely against Changmin’s chest. Yunho sneered and turned his back towards him, before turning back in a flash to punch the man, sending him sprawling on the gritty tar. Changmin had already conveniently stepped back, and was grinning now.
“People like you are the ones who know nothing about respect. You borrowed money with the intention to make life better for your family, but then you finished them all on some pretty men-whores and gambling. We’ve stained our hands by beating you. Min, lets go. We have no further business with this man.”
Yunho walked away as Changmin followed closely behind, fresh new cigarette lighted and clasped between his fingers.
*
The sound of sobbing filtered through the dark house, and Junsu sighed again, tossing around in bed and pulling the covers over himself, trying to block off the heartbreaking cries. He knew what happened - God he had lost count of how many times his sleep was interrupted by the sound of his older sister crying over her unsalvageable marriage.
He felt tears staining his pillow, and realized instantly he too had been crying. For what, Junsu couldn’t say. He has long ceased to care for his noona, since she insisted on staying with her husband and literally kept them in this house from hell.
Damn that Kang Donghoon. Adulterer and a fucking pervert of a brother-in-law. Junsu hated it when his sister cries, but he hated it more for not being able to do anything. He was only 19, barely legal and not yet the age where he was allowed to do anything he pleases. Twenty just doesn’t come quickly enough for the restless teen, and being caged up in a household where everyone is suffering certainly did not make waiting for freedom much easier.
He had thought of running away - far from Seoul, probably to Gongju where he knows no one and no one knows him - and starts everything all over again. He would probably take Jisun-noona if she wants to follow, but he doubted his sister is willing to leave her stupid husband. But Junsu could not leave his nephews and niece behind - Donghae, Daesung and Dambi are the only reason Junsu still sticks around. He didn’t trust his sister at all, knowing how she couldn’t bother to care for her children in her distressed state. She used to be such a fighter, Junsu mused. Nowadays, all she did was crying and drinking herself into a stupor, while her kids shied away in a corner calling helplessly for their mother.
Junsu can’t bear to look at the kids’ face. If he did he would cry - and the three needed him to be strong. He was the only reliable adult left.
The door creaked, and he turned to see four year-old Dambi at the door, clutching her teddy bear as she poked her head in, looking absolutely miserable.
“Junsu-appa?”, she mouthed, trying to search for her uncle in the darkness. Junsu jumped out of his bed, walking quickly to hold the girl in his arm, running a soothing hand across her back as she sniffled.
“Don’t be scared…I’m here. Where’s your oppa-deul, Dambiyah?”
“Daesung-oppa is in the toilet, he doesn’t want to come out…Donghae-oppa says he wants to go downstairs…to Omma. I don’t want to go to Omma…”
Junsu’s eyes widened, as he gathered Dambi and went downstairs, in the hunt for his overly brave eight year-old nephew. He passed the toilet on his way, and he could hear Daesung sobbing softly inside, obviously scared. He figured it would be better to find the eldest of the three first before coming up to the seven year-old Daesung, since Donghae was in much greater danger than the mild-mannered Daesungie.
He found Donghae hiding behind the couch, crying into his raised knees and folded arms. When he came nearer, the boy’s head shot up in alarm, before he scrambled up and ran towards Junsu in fear, hugging Junsu’s waist tightly.
“Omma threw a bottle at me, Junsu-appa....”
“Shit- Are you hurt, Donghae?”
Donghae shook his head and Junsu breathed in relief. From the living room, he could see his sister in the kitchen, bottles of vodka and wine strewn across the kitchen, some empty and broken. He would wait till morning before attempting to clean the mess up. For now, the most important thing was to ensure the kids’ safety. With that last thought, Junsu mounted the stairs, carrying Dambi and holding tightly to Donghae’s hand, heading towards the toilet to get Daesung out so they could sleep together in Junsu’s room, away from their almost deranged mother.
*
A rough cough and a desperate call for help alarmed Jaejoong, and before he could do anything, he was already running to catch up with Yoochun, who was already turning into a small alley that smells off urine and something more. Jaejoong winced as Yoochun knelt down beside a stranger who was bleeding steadily from a gash in his face, and he knew he had no choice but to join the two.
“Hyung! Come and help me here! Someone attacked this old man!”, Yoochun half-screamed towards him as Jaejoong jogged to where he was sitting, holding the man’s head on his thighs. Pulling the half-conscious man up, they both worked around dragging the man to their nearby apartment, not wanting to leave the man dying just outside their home.
A bowl of warm soup and few painful hissing later, the old man was tearfully retelling the story of his unfortunate meeting with the thugs, and Jaejoong scorned in distaste at the sheer brute that the thugs use to get away with thing. Yoochun merely nodded and sympathized, he can’t do anything anyway so might as well keep the opinion to himself.
“Those useless bastards could go die and rot in hell for what they do to people. The world would be more peaceful without them around.”, Jaejoong had uttered with contempt as he cleaned up their meals. The man had excused himself after resting a while, and by morning the man was gone, leaving a note of ‘thank you’ on a piece of paper torn from the old newspaper and a click of the front door.
--[TBC]