toaster_x (toaster_x) wrote,

Abstract Art

Title: Abstract Art
Length: One-Shot
Pairing: Jaejoong & Yunho
Genre: AU ; romance
Prompt: 'We have our story wrong' from the DBSK Random Pairing Generator
Rating: NC-16
Warning(s): language, booze, drugs, suggestive mentions


They were never formally together, not ever. The closest they had ever been to actual dating had happened one night on the roof of Jaejoong's dirty old apartment block, where bottles of beer had coddled both into questioning what it would be like if they gave themselves a title. But as soon as it had scooted into their minds, as soon as they had brushed it off with laughs, cigarette smoke, all washed down with a gulp of beer.

("I wonder. What it would be like to call you my boyfriend."


"That sounds disgusting."

"Cheers to agreeing.")

Never formally being together, meant no restraints for either of them.

It meant that Jaejoong could play around with as many men as he liked, kissing them with a passion akin to fire, waking up in their beds in the morning before gathering up his clothes, stealing a pack of cigarettes from whoever the unlucky bastard happened to be on that day, and then getting the hell out of there. It meant that he could dance atop the bar counter, his hips grinding sinfully up against someone who was not Yunho, and not be doing anything wrong.

It also meant that Yunho could continue to live in his delusional World, where he wasn't gay or bisexual. Where he continued to kiss countless of girls, have unprotected sex with them and run the risk of infiltrating one of them with his spawn, before heading back to Jaejoong. Because, no ones as good a fuck as you.

It also meant that when either got jealous, it wasn't a justified reason.

("So is he better at blowing you?"

"Thats not your concern Yunho."

"I want to know."

"Its none of your buisness."

"Fuck you Jaejoong."

Lips attacking lips in a fierce kiss as both struggle for dominance while they collapse to the ground in a tangle of limbs.


"I'm better." is what Yunho says after as they lounge lazily on the couch skin against skin, a packet of white powder on the table. Jaejoong doesn't answer, because admitting would be loosing.)

They have fights, just like normal couples do, with the only difference being : they aren't a couple.

( "If you can't ride a fucking motorbike without killing yourself, don't."

"Stop yelling jerk. My head still hurts."

"Then stop trying to get yourself killed."

"Why should you care, I'm no one to you."

"You're right. I don't."

Yunho pays someone off to steal Jaejoong's bike the next day and sells it for money which he uses to buy Jaejoong booze and drugs. Jaejoong doesn't know.)

It would bring them hell later on, they both knew. Because of how they both are too fucking fearful to admit they love one another. Because of how explosive they both were together, their tempers fast and hurtful, actions violent and without thought. Because of the lifestyle they both lead, they would crash sooner or later - and they knew.

("What the fuck did you go sleep with her for. You don't even like women. You're gay Jaejoong. Gay."

"Whats the matter Yunho, did I violate your precious little slut. I don't see whats the difference, me fucking her, you fucking her, its all the same, because we both fuck each other."

"Shut up."

"She was dancing in the middle of the dance floor like a goddamm hooker, shaking her hips like that, rolling her body, it was free for all. You can do her, so why can't I."

Yunho has no answer, because he can't speak out his answer. He opts for pulling his fist back and punching Jaejoong squarely in the jaw before turning to walk away. Because you're mine.)

That had been it for the both of them, then and there. It was the last Yunho ever saw of Jaejoong. He scoured the city's pubs daily, week after week, but never again did he see the bastard dancing on tables, or grinding on someone elses lap. He checked the apartment, but had been told that 'the punk from next door had left without paying the months rent'.

Jaejoong had left then, and Yunho couldn't hurt. Because, they were nothing to one another.


Six years later, and Yunho is standing in the halls of an art gallery on its opening night. His gaze, however is not focused on the paintings in front of him. The paintings he couldn't understand, because frankly he never gave a shit about art, never saw the beauty, and these - these paintings were a mess of colours, shapes and lines. But when he saw the artist, when his gaze locked onto the man clad in jeans, a shirt and a suit jacket, he understood the beauty in the paintings, he understood.

"Sir, the artist - would you care explaining to me the meaning of this painting of yours." Yunho had slid right up to Jaejoong after the small crowd around him had dissapeared, pushing past at least ten others who were trying to get to him. Fuck them and their whining, who cared - Yunho was more important.

Jaejoong had turned his head and eyes up to meet the man taller than himself, only to be stunned into shell shocked silence, which he recovered from in three, two, one seconds.

"A story gone wrong." is his simple reply as a slight smirk graces his face. 

"Oh?" Yunho hopes, he hopes, hopes, hopes. But hides his hope beneath a cool exterior.

"Would you like to set it right?" Jaejoong doesn't care who is looking, because he is openly gay, an openly gay artist who has gained respect for not his preferences, but for his works.

"Hell yes." is Yunho's reply, pressed up against Jaejoong's lips as he drags the other man roughly towards him, only to feel wrists being yanked out of his hands, and those hands capturing his own wrists. Jaejoong hates not being in control.

Yunho doesn't care about that. He doesn't care who sees them now either. Because its time to set their story right.

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