nominnation - Tumblr blog

nominnation · 2 years

Text

This is so cute!!

Deck the Halls

Originally posted here

▌ꫂꯥ➣ title | deck the halls

▌ꫂꯥ➣ genre | fluff, angst, christmas

▌ꫂꯥ➣ characters | taeyong x reader

▌ꫂꯥ➣ summary | the clock finally strikes midnight and you’re out of bed, far too eager to greet the Christmas month to wait another second.

▌ꫂꯥ➣ warnings | attic visit, lots of dust and cobwebs, heavy boxes, grumpy taeyong

▌ꫂꯥ➣ word count | 2.01k

▌ꫂꯥ➣ author's notes | I’ve decided to do a few nct inspired Christmas short fics. I'm not too sure how they're going to turn out, and I'm not holding myself to a standard to do all 23 members because I'm a busy person and if I get behind on one I get behind on all then lose motivation so yeah, please forgive me if I don't get to all of them! They also will absolutely not be in order. (The second one I'm working on and have started is Jaehyun's so yeah, not in order).

▌ꫂꯥ➣ tag list | @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @jisungsblackhairissuperior @nschit

❝What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, and hope your the future.❞ — Agnes M. Pahro

- - - -

The bedroom was dark, covered in the inky veil of nightfall, soothing and quieting the city as heads rested on pillows, surrounded by warm blankets and possibly even snuggled up with a partner on the cold winter night. The only light in the room was the dull streetlamp outside, providing enough visibility to the outside world that it wasn’t completely dark on the cloudy night.

Inside the room, there was a simple bed covered in patterned quilts that shielded two bodies from the cool air seeping into the house. One lay softly on his side, quiet snores leaving his mouth every few seconds as his eyelids twitched from his dreams. The other lay with their back to him, but with open eyes that gazed at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by until the grandfather clock in the living room chimed again at the new hour.

12am, December 1st.

Careful not to wake the sleeping male, you pushed back the quilt and sat up from the bed. Behind you, Taeyong let out another snore, this one slightly louder as the bed jostled oddly around him. You stilled, head turned to watch his face before relaxing as he rolled over and let out another, quieter snore.

You slid your feet into the slippers waiting by the bed and stood up, pulling the quilt back up and around Taeyong so he wouldn’t be disturbed by the cool air. Your feet then padded softly across the floor to the door, carefully twisting the knob before letting yourself out into the hallway, not bothering to close the door back.

The house was dark, but you managed to walk along the hallway until you found the pull cord to lower the retractable steps leading into the attic.

As you pulled the cord, the bottom of the step that had been resembling part of the ceiling came barreling out faster than you’d anticipated. If it hit the floor, it would most definitely wake Taeyong, who was already a light sleeper. You jumped in front of the stair and caught in mid fall, the impact and weight hitting you in the chest, pulling a pained grunt from your throat that you tried to stifle.

Once you’d recovered, you lowered the step to the ground, letting it drop with a quiet thump, making a path into the top of the house.

Grabbing onto the flimsy rail, you hauled yourself up onto the first step that was a significant way off the ground. You pulled yourself up the other five steps, ducking your head past the ceiling and finally, making it into the dark, dusty, cobweb filled attic that was just spooky enough to almost deter your intentions. At least, until you pulled the cord that switched on the single fluorescent light bulb that barely lit the whole attic.

It was only slightly less disturbing to be in the attic after midnight with the light on. There were colorful boxes and totes stacked messily about the room, most covered in thick layers of dust or cobwebs after having not been touched in well over a year. You scanned the room searching for the things you’d been after that possessed you to venture up in the middle of the night without your boyfriend. You stepped fully into the attic to search, crouching down so as not to bump your head on the rafters as you stepped toward a few boxes, glancing at their labels before moving on, dissatisfied.

The attic really needed to be cleaned and organized, but neither you, nor your boyfriend, had ever made time to go through everything that had once been mindlessly thrown up here in an attempt to rid it from the main part of the house. Everything was a jumbled mess thrown together, making it nearly impossible to find what you were looking for, at least, until you spotted green, sparkly, slightly dusty garland peeking out of the red box with the green lid in the corner of the attic.

Quietly, you moved over to the box and lifted the lid, trying not to be too grossed out by the dust your fingers pressed into as you lifted the lid. Everything, however, was forgotten when your eyes landed on what was inside.

The first thing that caught your eye was the porcelain angel your mom had gifted you when you were eighteen and moving out on your own. A doll that had sat atop every tree you’d ever had since your first Christmas living on your own. Your attention was then drawn to the several yards of garland (in various colors) that was covering the statues and figurines secured in the bottom of the plastic box. The Christmas box.

“What are you doing up here in the middle of the damn night?” a grumpy voice startled you. You practically jumped out of your skin as your head shot to the male standing on the top step of the stairs leading into the attic.

“Finding the Christmas box,” you answered, placing your hand over your heart in an attempt at calming the rapid racing.

“At nearly 1 in the morning?!”

You’d been searching for your box longer than you thought.

“I couldn’t wait any longer. It’s finally December! I want to start decorating!”

“Now?” you couldn’t tell if Taeyong was shocked, annoyed, or just sleepy.

“Yes now! I want to wake up tomorrow morning and see it! So I’ve gotta start now!”

Taeyong let out a groan, bringing a hand to his head and making a show of massaging his temples.

“Fine,” he groaned.

You weren’t really sure what he was agreeing to, but either way, it would be nice to have help lugging the box down the stairs. It wouldn’t be very light or easy to carry, and with Taeyong being awake, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about making too much noise on the way down.

Pushing the box off the wall, you shuffled it across the floor until Taeyong grabbed both sides and lifted it off the floor with a grunt.

“Geez! I forgot how heavy this was!”

He tugged it down the attic stairs before letting it drop on the hallway floor, letting out a huff.

“There! Decorations retrieved! Can we go back to bed now?’ he asked as you walked down the steps.

“No,” you pouted. “Now we’ve got to decorate the house!”

Taeyong let out a groan but didn’t argue as you opened the lid again and let it clatter to the floor and, on it, you placed the porcelain angel carefully out of danger. Your hands dipped back inside and your fingers wrapped around the stringy garland, pulling it out and letting it fall near the discarded lid and angel, making a mess on the floor that Taeyong was already making disgruntled noises at.

With the garland out of the way, you grabbed out the first mechanical decoration that brought an immediate grin to your lips.

It was a snowman with a red scarf sewn around its neck, a cloth carrot sticking from its nose and beady eyes set in the indented face. It had long, slender legs covered by a thin layer of fuzzy material leading down to two large black feet covered in the same fuzzy material. There were two arms stretched out from the snowman and on the left hand was a red and white button.

“Oh Lord,” Taeyong complained.

She grinned and practically run from the hallway into the living room, where you plopped the snowman down proudly beside the hearth below the television. You pressed the red and white button and immediately, the mechanical snowman began to stay it’s hips while “singing” “Holy Jolly Christmas.”

You waited for the snowman to finish before turning your attention to Taeyong, who was dragging the box of Christmas decorations into the living room where you waited.

“Thank you babe!” you cheered.

He grunted in response, obviously still half asleep as he reached inside the box and produced his favorite Christmas decoration. A large, glass reindeer Donghyuck had gifted him with a few years ago. The color pigmentation was dulling, but it was still just as beautiful as it had been when Taeyong unwrapped the messily put-together box and the reindeer had fallen into his lap. It had brown hooves that led up to lighter brown legs that had specks of white for snow. The body of the deer was long and thick, a well-fed reindeer with sleigh bells looped over its neck. It’s head was raised proudly, eyes almost glistening as though it were proud to be a sleigh reindeer. It’s antlers were the same color as the hooves that were long and proud with several points that reared toward it’s back.

Taeyong placed the reindeer delicately on the fireplace, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“See! Decorating after midnight is fun!”

He nodded, no longer making angry noises or responding in snippy remarks. He simply pulled decorations out of the box with you, hanging garland along the entryway leading from the living room to the hallway and kitchen. Placing Nutcracker and Santa figurines along the mantle. Replacing your fall flowers on the coffee table with square pots of fake Poinsettas. Together, you folded a Christmas tree blanket over the back of the couch, hiding the standard upholstery.

Taeyong reached back into the rapidly emptying box and pulled out a smaller box of Christmas oven mitts, pot holders, dish towels, and the bakery sign you’d bought the year before that read “Christmas Bakery open for business” amongst the holy. Without a word, Taeyong took off for the kitchen and you left him be, finding more pressing matters to attend to as you pulled the last layer of tissue paper off the final stack of well-packaged decorations.

Hiding at the bottom were the Christmas photos. Documented and memorialized within glass frames were photo’s of countless Christmases spent with your wonderful and amazing boyfriend.

You grabbed the first one out of the box. From behind the glass, you and Taeyong were smiling brightly at the camera, both wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater’s you'd ever seen. Both green and red, yours with shimmering tassels dangling from barely appropriately place positions on the Christmas cat embroidered. Taeyong’s was better, but only slightly. His shirt was of a Christmas tree with bulbs of light rising from the shirt, all lights lighten, making the ugly tree come to life.

You took down the standard photo of the two of you on the wall and replaced it with the ugly sweater photo before reaching back into the pot and finding Mr. and Mrs. Claus staring back at you. Mr. Claus resembled Taeyong so completely, and Mrs. Claus, who you thought looked just like you, was kissing his cheek with an arm thrown lovingly around his shoulders.

You placed the frame on the wall where another photo had been.

-------

As the sun slowly came up, you and Taeyong found yourselves settled on the couch, both glancing over your work. Christmas had found its way in your house. Memories hung on the walls. Nutcracker’s lined the mantle. Snowmen along the hearth. Garland in every doorway. Even a single stem of mistletoe hanging in the center of the hallway.

“Christmas time,” you breathed.

Taeyong shifted beside you and you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders softly.

“I love you. Even when you drive me crazy with your obsession with Christmas.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling himself off the couch.

“I’m going to go make some coffee. We have a long day of decorating the yard.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and you fell back against the Christmas blanket thrown over the couch. Your eyes trailed over the living room and a sleepy smile found its way to your face. As your eyes closed, head falling against the soft cushions, you couldn’t help but be excited for what this Christmas would bring for you and Taeyong.

#nct taeyong #nct fluff #nct 127 soft hours #nct taeyong fluff

86 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Note

Sort nct into alpha / beta / omega.

You got it sapiowoman28.

Taeil - Beta and is quite happy since it gives him more free time for naps. Gets a little snippy around the full moon because he’s tired.

Johnny - Alpha but is on a crusade to bring equality to the omegaverse so he refuses to knot anyone. Or refuses to admit it, at least, in the broad light of day.

Taeyong - Gets hormone therapy to become an omega because he wants to be pregnant

Yuta - Says he is an alpha, is actually a beta. Gets away with it anyway because no one wants to tell Yuta otherwise because he is feral

Kun - Alpha. Is the only one that’s normal about it. Gets a bit of a kick off the power it gives him but otherwise he’s tolerable.

Doyoung - Says he is an alpha, is actually an alpha. Uses it as leverage over the rest of NCT until he is ultimately defeated in a battle for territory

Ten - Omega. Goes into heat like a cat. People try to tell him he’s not a cat so he uses their garden as a litterbox in retaliation.

Jaehyun - Beta cuck and is pretty happy about it. Cries anyway because the tears are theraputic

Winwin - Refuses to acknowledge any categorisation and will absolutely bite the head of anyone that tries it.

Jungwoo - Epsilon

Lucas - Is an alpha but does not know what to do about it. Knotting scares him. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

Mark - Beta cuck and, unlike Jaehyun, he’s not happy about it

Xiaojun - Omega. Can’t take Bella to the dog park anymore because all of the other dogs end up trying to fight him into submission and he’s tired of barking at pomeranians

Hendery - Omega. Really likes the pregnancy cravings because they give him an excuse to dip pickles in ice cream without receiving judgemental looks

Renjun - Alpha and will fight anyone to the death over the slightest provocation

Jeno - Alpha but tries his hardest not to provoke Renjun because he would rather not be torn limb from limb

Haechan - Beta and likes to egg Renjun on and witness the aftermath

Jaemin - A very unsuspecting alpha. Even Renjun will not fuck with him.

Yangyang - Beta. He’s just here for the chaos. Likes to tell Ten ‘werewolves not swearwolves’ and gets slapped for it a lot

Shotaro - Whatever otters are. Uses the dynamics of the rest of the members for TikTok fodder.

Sungchan - He is too tall for one categorisation. His torso is an Alpha, his legs are Omega, and his head is, unfortunately, a Beta.

Chenle - Is none of the above, he is gaining internet fame from writing an extensive NCT a/b/o au wherein Doyoung is killed at least twice

Jisung - Beta. As in he beta-reads all of Chenle’s fanfics. Has read things that he wishes he could wipe free from his memory but they are now unfortunately burned into his temporal lobe.

#I love this!

392 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Text

A Wilted Flower

Pairing(s): Jaemin x Jeno

Synopsis: Jaemin wasn't expecting to find the love of his life while stopping to get flowers for his dying mother, but that's exactly what happened. Only problem is, Jaemin doesn't realize the peril that Jeno's life is in until it's too late.

Warnings: fluff, angst, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, major character death, alt. ending doesn't include death, mentions of homophobia (but it gets better), Jaemin is the dom in the relationship.

Word Count: 7322 words

Requested by: Hana on NCT Amino

Author's Notes: This has been posted on NCT Amino as well as ao3. It is also incredibly angsty, but there is an alternative ending that is fluffy. Also, if you are suffering with depression, anxiety, or an eating disorder (or more), please, please seek help. You and loved and beautiful!

Marigolds and lilacs sprouted from window boxes, dangling their soft pedals onto the cobblestone streets. Their buds reached for the sky, eager to please their caretaker as their heads glowed with an array of colors that may have seemed odd at first glance, but upon further inspection, had the power to captivate even the stubbornest mind. Such was their owner's power.

Their owner, Lee Jeno, was a simple kind of man with cheeks that gleamed rose if a compliment fell from someone’s lips. He was tall and lanky, limbs long and strong, although they made him a little clumsy. His hair was cut short in a way that made it look fluffy and soft. His eyes were the kindest shade of brown. He was beautiful, and perhaps it was this reason that Na Jaemin fell in love with him the first time he saw him.

Jaemin’s feet had been lured away from his mother’s hospital bed by her command that he, at least, get lunch, so with a handkerchief swipe to his eyes, he left the building of sickness and made his way blindly down a nearby street, known for streetside food vendors and gift shops. Being in a bit of a rush to get back to his mother, he hurried down the street searching for the first food place that looked even the slightest bit appealing. However, he was stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his emotional eyes fell on the marigolds and lilacs sprouting beautifully in boxes outside a cozy stone-built flower shop with flowers popping out of every open window.

It wasn’t a question for Jaemin after that. His mother’s favorite flowers were marigolds, but it was so hard to find a flower shop that appreciated them too.

The wooden door to the small little shop was standing wide open, a green water hose snaking in through the entrance, leaving droplets of water nearby. Jaemin followed the path it lead straight through the door and to the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his entire life. A man that stole his breath away the second he saw him.

Sensing someone else’s presence, the man turned around and gave Jaemin a wide smile, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

“Welcome to Jeno’s! How can I help you?” he asked.

His voice rang in Jaemin’s mind like a song he wouldn’t mind listening to for the rest of his life. His smile was so addictive that Jaemin couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi, I’m Jaemin.”

A cheesy pickup line just seemed too good to use on this male. None would do him justice. They’d all simply be a disgrace falling on the beautiful pair of ears.

“Hello Jaemin! If you hadn’t guessed, I’m Jeno! What can I help you with today?”

Such a simple response almost had Jaemin’s knees buckling.

“I… um…” he stammered awkwardly before clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. “I’d like to get a bouquet of marigolds for my mother… and maybe to take you out for lunch,” he finally let out.

He had never been this nervous or awkward when talking to anyone else. For some reason, this male just had that effect on him.

The question seemed to catch Jeno off guard, and Jaemin thought he was about to get turned down by the only person he’d ever met that made his stomach do summersaults.

Finally, Jeno responded with another wide smile, possibly wider than the one he’d greeted with.

“Well actually, I’ve just finished eating, but I’d still very much like to join you!”

That answer was all it took to make Jaemin’s head get all fuzzy and bubbly like he’d had three glasses of wine. Perhaps Jeno was his new wine that Jaemin would never want to stop sipping.

The walk to a food vendor was pretty uneventful, save for the fact that Jaemin couldn’t keep his eyes off the gorgeous male that was walking beside him. The soft smile the man always seemed to wear and the clumsily way he stumbled over just about everything was adorable and fun to watch. Specifically how he bowed to everyone they passed that appeared to be some businessman or old couple out for a stroll. However, when they finally made their way to a vendor, Jeno perched in a seat at a table beneath a closed umbrella that Jaemin struggled to open.

“You don’t have to open it,” Jeno spoke softly after Jaemin let out a few strings of curse words, the effect of one of the mechanisms pinching his finger.

“I will get this thing to open!” Jaemin responded slightly angrily, his annoyance at the umbrella only growing as the sun faded material hit his cheek.

He struggled a bit longer, jaw locked into place and eyes glaring daggers into the cloth before his attention was drawn away by one of the most adorable sounds he’d ever heard in his entire life.

Jeno’s sweet laughter.

He paused in fighting, hands still gripping the mechanics of the umbrella, but now loosely as he turned his gaze to stare at the soft male who’d since drawn his lanky legs to his chest. A smile pulled itself onto his own lips.

“What?” he asked.

Jeno’s arms came to wrap around his legs and his chin rested upon his knees, making Jaemin desperately want to take a picture of the sight to save as his screensaver.

“You’re just so desperate to get that umbrella open, it’s cute,” he spoke, voice flowing out gently.

“Well I can’t have this sweet Flower sitting here getting too much sunlight,” Jaemin answered.

Pink tinted Jeno’s cheeks immediately and Jaemin had to fight the urge to pull out his phone for a picture.

Inside, he moved to release the umbrella, deciding it was better to leave it closed than spend his time with Jeno fighting with it, but as soon as his hand twisted slightly to release it, the shaft of the device twisted easily and the umbrella was flying open, shocking both boys into staring wide-eyed at the now proudly opened umbrella.

“Stupid thing,” Jaemin finally muttered, shaking his head as Jeno just shot him another smile.

Jaemin swore he could live off Jeno’s smiles.

“I’m going to grab something to eat now, are you sure I can’t get you anything?” he asked.

Jeno shook his head before pausing.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a water,” he answered.

With a nod, Jaemin walked up to the window of the small food stall or ordered his own food, a simple burger and a milkshake along with Jeno’s water. It didn’t take long for the food to be in his hands, on a tray. He walked carefully back to their table and placed the water in front of the man before taking his own seat.

“Your water, Flower,” Jaemin spoke, grinning at the fitting nickname that brought pink back to Jeno’s cheeks,

“Thank you, my Gardener,” Jeno responded, cheeks going even more rosey.

Jaemin shot him another grin before taking a bite of his burger. As his eyes and attention settled on the food going into his hungry belly, he missed Jeno’s attention shifting away to play with the straw in his cup before taking a sip of water, keeping his eyes glued to the table and not the food entering Jaemin’s mouth.

“So why haven’t I seen you around here before? The people around here are usually pretty consistent,” Jeno spoke once he’d swallowed the mouthful of water, but his eyes still couldn’t meet Jaemin’s.

“I’m not usually around here. My mom’s in the hospital,” Jaemin said, voice audibly falling at the mention of his mother.

Jaemin watched Jeno’s eyes glass over with an apology and a question that was sure to come. Usually, he avoided the pity and questions, they were usually too difficult to answer, but for some reason, despite only knowing the man for a very short amount of time, he felt comfortable confiding in the male.

“She has breast cancer. She’s been struggling with it for about as long as I can remember, but last week it got really bad,” Jaemin found himself spewing, tears welling up in his eyes.

Jaemin was very much a mother’s boy. He loved his father, but he had always been closer with his mother. As her only child, he had spent most of his childhood being coddled and cuddled in her arms, given everything he ever needed and most of what he wanted.

“I’m so sorry Jaemin,” Jeno spoke, and Jaemin could hear the sincerity and heartache in his voice.

Jaemin gave a watery smile and shook his head lightly.

“She’ll be ok. This isn’t her first trip to the hospital,” Jaemin added, although he wasn’t sure whether it was meant to reassure Jeno or himself.

Jeno nodded although Jaemin could still see the way his eyes watered with unshed tears. It made him look even more beautiful than he already was. Jaemin swallowed a lump in his throat, as he trailed his eyes over the males face. Such a gorgeous man. Chocolate brown eyes, hair that fell just a little in his face, broad shoulders with a lean frame. Jaemin’s heart fluttered.

“I like you Jeno,” he said finally after staring at the male for a while.

Jeno seemed to jump a little, unsuspecting the sudden change of conversation nor the sudden compliment. He was even cuter when he was confused and blushing.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date sometime, if you’d let me,” he continued.

The blush on Jeno’s cheeks spread to his ears.

“I- really?” he asked, stammering in his nervousness.

“I’ll pick you up Saturday at 6.”

Saturday came and went, as did the next two month’s, and before Jaemin knew it, the September evening breeze had him wrapping his windbreaker jacket tighter around his body as he walked down the cobblestone streets. Many people passed him by, most bustling to the nearest food stand for dinner, other’s dressed up for dates. They were appealing, watching them run, each person with a different story to tell, and Jaemin would often find himself mindlessly watching them for hours. Now though, he had a higher priority.

The door to the flower shop was already closed, the welcoming sign flipped to closed and the main lights turned out. Jaemin paid no attention. It was the same way each day he returned from his own job. He pushed open the door he knew would be unlocked and waiting for him. The familiar bell jingled upon his entrance, jingling harder as he pushed the door closed and slid the lock into place. He turned around once the door was settled and walked slowly through the shop, careful not to trample on flowers Jeno had spent days nourishing back to health in the now warmed greenhouse room.

He found Jeno in the back of the shop, bringing in hanging baskets filled with purple and green flowers from the opened window, hanging them up on different hooks inside before closing the window. Jaemin didn’t bother announcing himself. Jeno already knew he was there, else he would have called out in a half frightened panic that the shop was closed. Jaemin moved up behind the male, still fumbling with flowers, and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing a soft kiss to Jeno’s cheek, bringing a delighted smile to Jeno’s face.

“How was work?” he asked.

Jaemin scrunched his nose and blew a playful puff of air on Jeno’s neck, making the male shutter in his arms.

“Long. Those kids don’t listen to a word I say,” Jaemin complained, disdain dripping in his voice.

“You love them though,” Jeno pointed out.

It was true, Jaemin did, but he also sometimes wondered what in the world made him get an education degree for secondary school. Teenagers rarely listened, and when they did, they’d spend hours complaining about whatever lesson or homework was given.

“Well enough about them. How about you and I go get a pizza and watch a movie in your loft,” Jaemin suggested, changing the subject and pressing another kiss to Jeno’s cheek.

“Oh I’ve already eaten,” Jeno replied.

Jaemin pursed his lips. Jaemin always came home from school after tutoring at 6, yet Jeno had always eaten. It was curious, but perhaps the male just preferred eating early.

“One of these days I’m going to catch you before you eat,” Jaemin responded playfully.

Jeno didn’t respond, instead he pulled out of Jaemin’s arms and hung one of the baskets of flowers up on the rafters.

“How about you order a pizza and deliver it here. We’ll go upstairs after it gets here to watch that movie,” Jeno suggested.

Jaemin nodded and moved closer to grab Jeno around the waist lightly. The male squeaked, a small blush blooming to his cheeks as Jaemin leaned close and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“Can I stay the night?” he asked.

Jeno’s cheeks flamed redder as he nodded and Jaemin kissed him again.

Jaemin’s hand laced through Jeno’s tightly, squeezing the hand his boyfriend had offered him.

“She’s going to be ok,” Jeno whispered, giving a reassuring squeeze to Jaemin’s hand.

Jaemin didn’t respond. His body shook in it’s seat, trembling, his free hand wiping at the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

The moment was inevitable. He knew it was coming one way or another, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

The moment the nurse walked down the hallway and into the waiting room where the two boys sat amongst strangers, all tearful for their loved ones, Jeno nudged Jaemin’s side and Jaemin looked up, hot tears still streaking down his face.

“The surgery was a success. Your mother is in recovery,” she said kindly.

A small sob left Jaemin’s lips and Jeno was wrapping his arms around the male. Jaemin buried his face in his boyfriend's neck, basking in the scent of flowers that always seemed to be on his skin. He clung onto Jeno. His mother would live. The surgery a success. The cancer hopefully gone. He’d never been more happy in his life.

“She’s going to be ok, Jae,” Jeno whispered in his ear.

That voice. That beautiful voice in his ear on the day he needed it the most. Tears began falling from Jaemin’s eyes all over again, but this time, it wasn’t the surgery, possibly losing his mother, or the success of the surgery that drove this. This was all Jeno. The beautiful flower boy who had completely captured Jaemin’s heart.

“I love you, Flower” Jaemin whispered against Jeno’s neck through the tears.

He felt Jeno stiffen. That hadn’t said that to one another yet. He hoped it wasn’t too soon. They’d only known each other for four months. Not usually enough time for two people to fall in love, but for Jaemin, he felt as if he’d been in love with Jeno since the day he’d met him.

“I love you too,” Jeno whispered back.

Jaemin took a shuddering breath and opened his mouth to respond when a familiar grunt broke his train of thought. He sighed and slowly loosened his hold on Jeno, letting his arms fall to his sides. Confusion flashed across Jeno’s features, but Jaemin tried not to dwell on it.

“Hi dad, did you hear?” he asked the male standing at the edge of the waiting room.

The man had his arms crossed over his chest, his black suit jacket wrinkling around the sleeves. His face was drawn in a tight line somewhere between a grimmance and a glare.

“I heard. What I didn’t hear was you telling this man that you loved him like a friend.”

The man’s words were deep and harsh. His eyes shot a dirty look toward Jeno and anger welled up in Jaemin’s chest as he saw Jeno crumple beneath the weight of the disapproval.

“That’s probably because I don’t love him like a friend. I’m in love with him,” Jaemin shot back.

He could hear gasps around him from random people watching the scene before them like it was some soap opera.

“Men can’t love men!” the man across the room snarled.

Jeno sat down in the seat, curling in on himself. Jaemin turned to console him, his first priority being his boyfriend, but as an ajumma moved to sit beside him, pulling the tall male against her, rubbing his shaking shoulders, Jaemin felt eased enough to continue the fight, his blood boiling as he watched those precious shoulders move with the weight of tears.

“I can love whoever the fuck I want!” Jaemin snapped.

The eyes of his father narrowed, as if daring Jaemin to repeat himself. Jaemin didn’t care. This man had hurt his Flower. No way was he backing down.

“You have no right to dictate who I can and can’t love! I’m a grown ass adult! I make my own decisions!” Jaemin continued, voice raising in volume.

“Your name is NA Jaemin! That’s MY name! I still get a say!” he father yelled.

Jaemin crossed his arms, copying his father.

“Then maybe I’ll change it to Lee,” he said.

The look on the man’s face, a cross between anger and pain satisfied Jaemin enough to end the argument. “Tell mom I’ll come see her tomorrow,” he said, voice lowered.

He reached down to gently grasp Jeno’s elbow and haul the male up. He didn’t want to disturb him, but at the same time, Jeno was too good to breathe the same air as the homophobic asshole. The ajumma helped him stand and Jaemin shot her a thankful smile before wrapping an arm around Jeno’s waist. Jeno rested his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, tears still streaking his cheeks. Carefully, Jaemin guided him out of the hospital doors, past his still glowering father.

When the made their way out of the hospital, Jaemin sat Jeno down on a bench and knelt in front of him.

“He’s an asshole. Don’t mind him,” he said softly.

Jeno sniffled harshly, trying to bite back his tears but it wasn’t working.

“He’s your father,” he hiccuped.

Jaemin placed a hand on Jeno’s knee and rubbed slowly, soothing circles against the denim.

“I don’t care. If he wants to tell me how I can feel about you, I don’t want to know him,” Jaemin responded.

Jeno didn’t say anything after that. His hiccups and sniffles continued, but Jaemin stroked along his leg softly until finally, they quieted.

“There is nothing he can say that will make me love you any less,” he whispered softly.

This seemed to surprise Jeno enough to make him gape.

“Really?”

Jaemin nodded, a small smile covering his cheeks.

“I’m all yours and you are all mine. I will love you forever and if he doesn’t like that, I’ll take your last night and we won’t deal with him anymore,” he spoke.

The surprise grew even more, and with it, grew a watery smile that made Jaemin’s heart melt on the spot.

“We’re not married, you can’t have my name,” he laughed.

“We could get married.”

To this, Jeno’s response was one of immense shock.

“We’ve only been dating for four months!” he exclaimed.

“And yet I already know you’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with,”Jaemin responded, bringing a cute blush to Jeno’s cheeks.

Jeno leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Jaemin’s lips and, for a moment, Jaemin thought he’d just gotten engaged, at least until Jeno broke the kiss.

“Ask me in a year, and I’ll say yes,” he whispered.

Jaemin wasn’t sure he could wait a year to ask for Jeno’s hand. Every day he struggled not to ask, but he wanted to respect the wishes of his Flower. He knew Jeno wasn’t ready. In truth, Jaemin wasn’t either. Despite the argument in the hospital, Jaemin really did seek his father’s approval. That seemed more and more like a distant thought though. It had been four months and Jaemin’s father still said little to him, which made Jaemin want to be around his parents less and less. If it weren’t for his mother, he likely would have blocked them out completely.

“Your father will come around,” the voice of a woman spoke as Jaemin sat beside her on the couch.

“We’re in the middle of March. It’s been over three months since he looked me in the eye!” Jaemin retorted.

His mother simply let out a sigh and patted Jaemin’s knee.

“He just needs time to process everything,” she added.

“To process what? It’s not like telling him I loved Jeno was my coming out to him. Both of you have known I liked guys since I dated that foreign exchange student, Phillipe, in high school.”

“Do you remember how things ended with that boy?” his mother asked, voice still gentle.

“Yeah… he ended up deciding he was straight and dumping me for some girl in his Chemistry class,” Jaemin responded.

“Exactly. Your father and I watched you mope around the house for months after he broke your heart. Your father is just afraid it’s going to happen again. He doesn’t know Jeno like I do. I was able to get to know the boy while I was in the hospital. He has a full time job. He doesn’t know Jeno well enough to know that he is completely and utterly in love with you,” his mother answered again.

Her response made Jaemin gape at her for a moment, memories flashing back through his head. She was right. He’d been a terrified fourteen year old, standing in the living room declaring, through stuttering breaths, that he liked men more than women and that he even had a boyfriend. They both had taken the news surprisingly well. Better than he could have hoped for. Even when he’d brought Phillipe to their house, his parents had been generous hosts and protective parents. Not even allowing the two to go into Jaemin’s room to play video games.

His mother must have seen the realization flash across his face.

“Give him some more time and I’ll work on him. In the meantime, are you serious about wanting to marry this boy?”

Though Jaemin’s mind was reeling, this was one question he could definitely answer.

“I am certain I want to marry him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. He is the love of my life and no one else will do. No one makes me feel like he makes me feel, and I know he feels the same.”

The smile that crossed his mother’s face was one full of pure pride and happiness.

“Then how about you let me handle your father and you start looking for rings,” she said.

This, again, caught Jaemin off guard for a multitude of reasons, yet he could only express one.

“But he said he didn’t want me to ask him for a year. A year isn’t until November…”

His mother pursed her lips, almost as if she was about to start scolding him.

“Do you know how much time it will take to find the perfect ring? The ring that is ideal for him? Then there’s saving for it. Then it’s finding the perfect moment. Son, it will take you until November or longer to get everything ready to propose to him,” she said.

And she was right. He knew she was. Yet here he was, wasting time.

“But what if I get everything ready, but dad doesn’t approve?” he asked.

Despite his threat to change his name, despite actually being convinced he would do it, he couldn’t. He loved his father dearly. Far too much to get married without the man who’d raised him there.

“He’ll come around when he realizes how serious you two are. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him,” she answered, and somehow, this put Jaemin at ease.

Burgers and water weren't the most romantic things in the world. Actually, it was probably exactly the opposite, but today, they would be romantic.

Time had flown faster than Jaemin could comprehend, and before he knew it, it was standing in front of the flower shop, holding two to-go boxes of burgers and two styrofoam cups of waters, on the exact same day he’d walked into the flower shop for the first time.

The marigolds were the same as they’d been a year ago, alluring enough to draw any passerby in, even if just to admire the beautiful flowers that Jeno put his heart and soul into caring for. The paint had started to fade off the walls of the shop, but somehow, that made the place look even more cozy and appealing. The shop was almost exactly the same as it had been then, except for the few picnic tables Jeno had installed last winter, equipped with umbrella’s like the ones from their first date. Both tables were currently vacant, and the shop sign switched to closed.

Jaemin placed the trays on the table and pushed open the door to the shop, the little bell ringing to alert his presence.

“Flower?” he asked into the jungle of blooming buds.

“I’m upstairs, give me a second,” the voice called from a distance.

Jeno loved flowers. This was news to no one that walked past the shop. But what most didn’t know was that when Jeno had bought the building, it had two floors. The bottom floor was obviously where all of the flowers were kept. The top floor Jeno had slowly turned into a small little apartment loft that he loved so dearly. Dearly enough to deny all of Jaemin’s attempts at getting him to move into a real apartment where the two could comfortably live together.

“You don’t have to get dolled up for me, Flower. You’re beautiful enough as it is,” Jaemin called up.

He couldn’t see his boyfriend, but he knew the male was blushing. He could almost hear it.

Jaemin waited by the door of the shop, casting glances back at their food to ensure no birds attempted to steal from the trays. When he heard the stairs creak with the weight of a human, his attention was immediately snagged however and he was drawn back to watch as Jeno’s form appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

Jaemin’s draw dropped. Jeno was wearing a pair of skinny jeans with a few sensible rips in them, paired with a shirt that was much too big, a shirt that came down past the middle of his thigh and hung loosely on his shoulders. His hair had been bleached and was now styled in a fluffy mess of blonde hair on top of his hair.

Jaemin’s breath caught in his throat.

“Do you like it?” Jeno asked timidly.

Jaemin didn’t respond. Instead, he left the door to the shop slam closed, forgetting the food waiting outside. He made his way quickly to Jeno, reaching up to grasp the males waist and shoving him against the wall before planting a firm kiss against his lips.

“I love it,” he whispered before diving back in for more.

Jaemin carefully tugged the sheets up over both bodies, shielding them both from the cool air of Jeno’s fan.

“We should go downstairs to eat soon. I’m sure our food is cold by now,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around Jeno’s waist and pulling him closer.

“I’m not really hungry,” Jeno answered, snuggling his face into Jaemin’s neck.

“You need to eat something. We just burned a lot of calories,” Jaemin responded.

Jeno shook his head.

“I can’t eat. I’m not hungry. I won’t be able to eat anything without feeling sick,” he responded.

Jaemin gave the male an odd look.

“Well you’ve got to eat something. Like I said, we just burned through a lot of calories. I know your body isn’t hungry right now after that exertion, but you need to replenish those calories. You’re as thin as a rail already.”

He felt Jeno’s breath on his neck.

“Can we take a small nap first and then eat?” he requested, voice sounding already lidded with sleep.

Jaemin’s heart melted. He loved watching Jeno fall asleep. He loved holding him in his arms. Besides, how could he say no when the male was acting so cute.

“Fine, but when we wake up, we’re both getting some food,” Jaemin said sternly.

If only he had remembered to hold Jeno to that.

November came around again faster than Jaemin could comprehend. His mother had been right in that regard, but there had still been no such luck on getting his father’s approval.

It had been a work in progress. At least the man was saying more than a few words to him, but the look of contempt in his eyes whenever he looked at Jaemin threatened to tear him to pieces.

“Did you get it?” his mother asked, sitting down at the kitchen table with two steaming cups of coffee.

Jaemin nodded and pulled the compact velvet box out of his back pocket.

He wasn’t delusional. He knew there wouldn’t be a literal marriage between himself and Jeno. There would be no legal binding. However, the ceremony was still important to Jeno and whether it was accepted and documented by the country or not, he would still classify Jeno as his husband, and that’s all he wanted.

He placed the velvet box on the table and slowly popped the lid open to show her the stunning diamond ring cut like a rose on a silver band. The diamond was small and sensible. Something he knew Jeno would like. Around it were a few tiny green emeralds that gave the illusion of petals. It was a ring he’d found in one of the last jewelry shops he’d looked in, one on the other side of town that didn’t seem like it would have anything suitable, but Jaemin had taken a chance anyways. After finding the ring, he was quick to start paying on it and within a month, he finally had it sealed away in his pocket, ready for the day he’d get to present it to the male he hoped to soon be planning a wedding with.

“Sweetheart!” his mother gaped. “It’s beautiful! He’s going to love it!” she gushed.

A small blush tinted Jaemin’s cheeks as he let his mind wander to how Jeno would when he was presented with the ring. Would he blush? Would he cry? Would he jump into Jaemin’s arms with a gleeful shout? Hopefully all of the above.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” a masculine voice asked.

Jaemin looked up in shock. He hadn’t realized his father had been home. He also didn’t expect the male to regard him in the soft tone he was now.

“I am,” he responded, throat going dry.

He didn’t want to argue. All he wanted was to rush over to the flower shop and propose now, but how could he, knowing the man he looked up to didn’t approve, and would possibly never approve.

“And he feels the same? He honestly loves you too?” the male asked.

That was… very unexpected, but Jaemin didn’t hesitate to answer.

“He does. I know he does,” Jaemin answered.

He was getting hopeful now. This was as sincere as his father had been in a year on the topic of Jeno.

“Then go ask for his hand in marriage. But you better promise me that you’ll both take care of each other,” the man spoke, surprising Jaemin so much he was almost speechless.

He stared up at the man in shock, gaping at him with an open mouth before his mother clapping her hands on the table, startled him from his stupor an he was flying out of his chair.

“Thank you dad!” he cried, but didn’t stop for a hug.

He needed to see Jenone now.

Except… he wasn’t prepared for the sight that met him when he got to the flower shop…

As soon as he walked inside, the shop, he knew something was wrong. There was a group of people surrounding the door, all with worry etched over their faces. Nearby was an ambulance with flashing lights and silenced sirens and, for a moment, Jaemin looked around for any clues as to where Jeno was and who was hurt. That moment halted, however, the second two paramedics walked out rolling a gurney… with Jeno strapped to the bed, his head bleeding and an oxygen mask over his face.

“Jeno!” Jaemin cried, rushing toward the bed. “Jeno!” he cried again, tears welling in his eyes.

“Step back sir!” one of the paramedics snapped at him.

“That’s my boyfriend!” Jaemin cried out, reaching out to grab Jeno’s hand, only to find it ice cold.

He hissed. How long had his boyfriend been bleeding from his head before someone found him?!

“Sir, I asked you to step back! You’re no help to him keeping him from the hospital!” one of the paramedics yelled.

This seemed to snap Jaemin out of his stupor enough to jump back and allow the paramedics to load the unconscious male into the ambulance and leave with roaring sirens toward the hospital down the road.

“What… what happened…” Jaemin mumbled to no one in particular.

“I came in and found him passed out. It looked like he’d fainted and fallen on a ceramic pot that shattered all over the floor. I have no idea how long he was like that. There was a very scary puddle of blood around him,” one girl responded weakly.

When Jaemin looked up to find her face, he noted how sick she looked. Seeing all that blood had no doubt frightened her. But he didn’t have much time or energy to worry about that.

“Thank you for finding him,” he got out before dashing off in the direction the ambulance had taken.

The hospital wasn’t far from the flower shop. It was how he and Jeno had met a year and a half ago.

As his feet hit the sidewalk, breath coming out hard and fast, heart racing in anxiety, one thought plagued his mind.

Why had Jeno fainted in the first place?

“... Anorexia?” Jaemin repeated back, his mouth forming the word, but his brain being unable to process the meaning.

“It would appear that Mr. Lee has been suffering from anorexia for a very long time. Well over a year at least. He seems to have been eating just enough to get by, but his body was severely deprived of the nutrients it needed. It would appear that lately he’d been eating even less and it resulted in him fainting. Under normal circumstances, giving him an IV with sugar water and a psych consult would have gotten him back to health. However, with the severity of the eating disorder and the head trauma, this is not a normal circumstance,” the doctor explained, standing in front of Jaemin in the waiting room.

Jaemin’s parents stood on either side of their son, both of their faces etched with worry.

“What are you saying?” Jaemin sniffled.

The doctor sighed and placed her hand on Jaemin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Mr. Na. Your boyfriend didn’t make it.”

Jaemin’s heart shattered like a glass vase suddenly being dropped onto the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces that would make it impossible to put together again.

How had he not noticed how sick his boyfriend had been. They’d been together for over a year, and Jaemin had never seen him eat once. How had he not realized?!

His legs buckled and his knees hit the ground as a loud, screaming sob of his boyfriends name left his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Year Later

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So my students decided to test my patience today and try talking back to me, and as a result, I ended up getting sent home for screaming at them,” Jaemin said as he sat down on the well-kept grass.

“The school didn’t mind. They know why it happened. It’s sad that I have that leniency though, especially around this time of year,” he continued.

A tear welled up in his eye. One that he let slide down his cheek without a bother.

“Happy anniversary, by the way,” he added, another tear falling as he turned his gaze to look at the dark gray gravestone with “Lee Jeno” carved into the stone slab.

“I brought you your flowers. Lilacs. Your favorites,” he added.

Lilacs were Jeno’s favorites, so despite bringing flowers every day he came, Lilacs were reserved for special occasions. Holidays, his birthday, or the day that should have been the happiest day of their lives.

With shaking hands, he carefully removed the roses from the flower vases on both sides of the grave. He placed them off to the side, where they would stay until the grounds keeper disposed of them because Jaemin just didn’t have the heart to do it.

Once the roses were removed, he gingerly placed the lilacs in the vases and let more of the tears fall, watering the flowers cut at the stems.

“I miss you so much Flower! I wish you had told me about your sickness and let me help you. I wish I had realized it before it was too late. But now you’re gone, and there’s nothing I can do to bring you back,” he spoke, shoulders beginning to shake as the tears flowed heavier.

“If you would have waited thirty more minutes we wouldn’t be here!! You would be my husband! We’d be living happily together! I was going to propose you idiot! Why did you have to leave me?!” Jaemin’s voice raised in volume as tears racked his body.

His hands cupped around his face as he sobbed loud and noisily, tears dropping onto the soil beneath his feet.

“All I want to do is hug you or kiss you one more time. Just once more,” he mumbled into his hands as his sobs quieted.

He sat there for about an hour, not saying anything, just sitting on his knees, letting the breeze ruffle his hair as tears continued flowing silently now down his cheeks. He had so much to say, but his words would never be heard by the ears he longed to whisper into again.

After a while, Jaemin took a long, shaky breath and reached into his pocket.

“I’ve been holding onto this since the day you… died… I keep meaning to give it to you. It’s yours after all, or at least meant for you. I just… I haven’t been able to part with it. But I can’t keep it any longer,” he spoke, voice wavering as a few more tears fell.

He opened up the velvet box to expose the ring that hadn’t been touched since that fateful day.

“I love you my Flower. I always have and I always will. And even though you're gone now, I will always view you as my only true love. I hope that, had you still been alive, you would have said yes,” he continued, voice quieting to a whisper.

Carefully, he plucked the ring from the velvet box and dug his hand into the soft grass. Moving slowly, he dug a hole with his fingers right over where Jeno’s heart would be in the dirt. Once the hole was deep enough it wouldn’t be exposed by the lawnmower, he placed the silver-banded engagement ring into the dirt.

Working carefully, he moved the dirt he’d dug up back over the ring and patted it down to seal it into the ground forever with his love.

“My Flower… Will you marry me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alt. Ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“... Anorexia?” Jaemin repeated back, his mouth forming the word, but his brain being unable to process the meaning.

Jaemin’s parents stood on either side of their son, both of their faces etched with worry.

“What are you saying?” Jaemin sniffled.

“He doesn’t need to be left alone. We were able to get enough nutrients into him, this time, but next time, he won’t be so lucky. He’ll be signed up for rehabilitation classes and counseling sessions, but it’s his choice to go or not. Someone is going to have to get him to go,” the doctor said.

Jaemin felt the weight on his heart lesson. Jeno was going to be ok… This time at least.

“Can I see him?” Jaemin asked timidly.

The doctor nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

“He’s weak, but he’s awake,” he said.

Jaemin nodded, a stray tear falling down his cheek as he followed the doctor down a few hallways until he stopped at a closed door and gestured for Jaemin to enter. Jaemin walked through the door shakily. He closed it gently behind him and moved further into the room. When he laid eyes on Jeno, his heart broke, but pieced itself together when Jeno smiled.

“Hey Jaemin…” Jeno’s voice was weak.

Jaemin gave him a watery smile.

“Hey Flower… are you alright?” he asked.

Jeno gave a weak smile but nodded as Jaemin moved around the hospital bed and took a seat.

“Then… HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU WEREN’T EATING?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Year Later

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaemin stood proudly at the alter on the private beach his parents had rented out. He was dressed in an expensive black suit with a flower pinned to the coat’s breast pocket. His hands were folded neatly in front of him.

“Breathe Jaemin,” his mother’s whispered voice came, forcing Jaemin to realize he hadn’t inhaled in several seconds and was close to passing out.

He took a deep breath, chest rising and falling as he did so, seconds before the music from the organ began playing. His heart stopped.

The audience in little white chairs stood up as the tent at the end of the walkway of flowers opened and Jeno, dressed in a white suit sprang forth, a bouquet of lilacs tucked in his hands.

Slowly, the male made his way down the aisle until he reached Jaemin. Jaemin kept his eyes locked on the taller man, his heart beginning to race.

When Jeno reached the altar, Jaemin took hold of his hands gently and the man standing in front of them facing the crowd cleared his throat.

“Jaemin and Jeno have decided that, although marriage is not legal in Korea, they would like to hold this ceremony as a symbol of their love for one another and for their relationship deeper than dating. Is there anyone against this joining of hands?” the man asked.

Jaemin didn’t care to look out on the crowd. Their opinions didn’t matter as long as he and his Flower were happy.

When no one responded, the man went on.

“Hearing no objections, may anyone with ill will toward these two men forever hold their peace.”

Jaemin smiled softly at Jeno before looking up as the ring he would place on Jeno’s finger was placed in his hand by his mother.

“Na Jaemin. Do you take Lee Jeno to be your unlawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

#nct oneshot #nct fanfic #requested oneshot #jeno x jaemin #Dom jaemin #sub jeno #anxitey #depression #eating disorder #major character death #alternate ending #alternate universe #angst #fluff

28 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Text

Of Fins and Tails

Pairing(s): Jaehyun x Doyoung

Synopsis: Doyoung has a rocky past. A dangerous and deadly past. One that haunts him because, try as he might, he can't escape it. Perhaps he should come clean about his past to his boyfriend. But what if he has passed the appropriate time to reveal such baggage?

How will Jaehyun feel when he finds out that the man he loves is far more complicated than any human?

Warnings: drowning, mentions of major character death, mentions of blood, secrets, supernatural beings.

Word Count: 5100

Author's Notes: This is the second fic in the Qian Manor series. It has been posted on ao3 and amino. I hope you enjoy!

Edit created by Sunny on NCT Amino

1723

Air drifted through an open porthole, chilling the occupants residing in the lower deck prison. A young man, Doyoung, who sat closest to the window, shivered thanks to his fagged and torn clothing that did little to protect him from the harsh environment. He drew his knees to his chest, rattling the freezing shackles locked around his ankles. He wrapped his arms around his knees in an attempt to capture warmth, the handcuffs tightly chained around his wrists restricting his movement. He curled himself into a small ball against the wall of the ship hull, head resting against the porthole bolted into the frame.

“Do you want a blanket?” a kind voice asked in a whisper.

Doyoung looked up to see a boy, no older than fourteen, offering him a smelly, rat-gnawed blanket. Doyoung would like the blanket. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be more than he had. However, as he glanced around the prison where he and fifteen other people had been forced into, he couldn’t bring himself to take the blanket. Mothers with young children were already struggling to keep them warm against the cold, half of them holding their children to their breasts with blue lips. He couldn’t accept a blanket for warmth when so many others were freezing. A blanket, torn or not, could mean the difference between life and death for some of them.

“Give it to someone else,” Doyoung answered.

As he spoke, another gust of wind blew through the porthole, immediately illiceting a shiver from him.

The boy gave him a sympathetic glance but nodded and turned to drape the blanket of a mother who held a bundled up two year old against her body. She smiled at the boy gratefully and snuggled into the blanket. It wasn’t much, but it’d keep her warm for a little longer.

“Who do these people think they are,” Doyoung mumbled to himself.

He must have been too loud, or perhaps he just had rotten luck, because a moment later, the metal door burst open and a bulky man wearing stained brown pants, a ripping white shirt, and a velvet red coat stormed in. He had a mop of long, greasy hair and a black pirate hat perched atop.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you!” he sneered.

Doyoung couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at the man. It wasn’t their fault that they were in this situation and hated it. Most of them were there for no reason. Sure, some of them had been previous thieves, including the boy who’d offered him a blanket, but the rest of them? They were just random people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Doyoung amongst them.

“Why don’t you just let us go? We’re not animals. You can’t keep us caged up down here like animals!” he snapped.

He knew it was the wrong thing to say before he said it, but he couldn’t help it. He had held his tongue for long enough. These pirates had kept all of them down here until selling certain ones off to slave traders or until one of them died from hypothermia or malnourishment. He was sick of watching them die.

The pirate stepped into the room, a glare sharp across his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Doyoung saw a mother draw her child closer, protectively. He felt sorry for her. He had caused this with his mouth, but something had to be said.

“We can keep you here for as long as we see fit. No one even knows you rats are missing!” The pirate venomously tongued.

A growl made its way from Doyoung’s mouth.

“You’re a bunch of dirty rotten pirates and one day, you’ll pay for the torment you put these people through!” He yelled.

The second the words were out of his mouth, he knew he’d messed up. His eyes grew wide and he put his hands over his mouth.

“N-no! I didn’t-”

But the damage was already done. Before Doyoung could comprehend what was happening, a fist was colliding against his nose, knocking him back against the wall. As his head hit it, his jaw clenched and he bit down on his tongue. Blood pooled into his mouth, dripping down his jaw. He let out a loud whimper, but he didn’t have time to check the damage done to his tongue before his shackles were yanked. Pain sprouted through his body.

“Doyoung!” he heard someone yell.

“Shut up!” the captain yelled.

The sound of a body hitting the floor and Doyoung wanted to object. To tell them to let him get whatever brutal punishment awaited him, but he gurgled on his own blood, the thick liquid dripping down his throat.

It didn’t matter anyway. He was yanked from the prison faster than anyone else could intervene. As soon as he was out of the door, his head smacked against the metal frame and his vision tunneled before going black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun beat down on his face, bringing a small smile to his face. Freedom. They must have set him free. Finally.

“Look at this! The boys’ smiling!” a wicked voice spoke near his head.

His eyes slowly cracked open, the first thing his eyes catching being the black sail of the ship. So, he wasn’t free…

His heart sank. There was no telling what they were going to do with him now, but he doubted he’d be allowed back with the other prisoners. He never considered being down there with them was a blessing.

“You’ve got a big mouth boy,” another voice sneered.

Doyoung closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see what they had in store for him. Maybe they’d have mercy. Perhaps he’d made them angry enough they’d just slit his throat and be done with it.

He was never that lucky.

One of the greasy pirates grabbed his forearm tightly, too tightly for comfort, but even as he grimaced, the hold didn’t loosen. Instead, he was dragged up from the ground roughly. He let out a yelp as he was tugged a little too hard, his jelly legs too weak to balance himself, but the pirates showed no mercy.

It was only when he was standing that Doyoung realized his once shackled feet were now bound by a thick, irritating rope tied so tightly around his ankles he couldn’t even shuffle.

“Normally, with someone as loud and irritating as you, we’d hand them over to the captain, let him teach ya lessons the hard way,” one pirate spoke, his voice low and gravely.

“But, he’s too busy right now, with us closing in on land and all, so he doesn’t have time to teach ya the lesson below your belt,” another sneered.

Doyoung felt his stomach tie in knots. Below the belt…? They didn’t mean…?

“So we’ll just have to dispose of you the good ole fashion way!” another spoke, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

Before Doyoung had time to process what this meant, the pirate holding his arm yanked him forward. He went tumbling down, unable to move his feet to compensate for the sudden lurch. Laughter erupted around him and Doyoung’s face burned, although he wasn’t sure if it was more from embarrassment or anger.

Another hand gripped his other arm just as tightly as the first and the two arms hauled him into his feet again before dragging him across the spintery deck, his bare feet catching on raised pieces of wood that sliced his feet open. He was dragged up two steps, toes crashing against the edges of the steps, making him wince, until finally, he knew what was about to happen. Tears sprang to his eyes as he struggled, but it was no use. The pirates simply laughed at him as the two holding him pushed him out onto a short board dangling over the water.

“You should have kept your mouth shut boy,” one of the pirates sneered at him.

Doyoung stared down at the roaring waves splashing below him. He didn’t know how to swim! Even if he did, his feet were bound so tightly, he wouldn’t be able to anyway!

“No! Please!” he begged.

Hot tears burned liquidated lines down his cheeks as he begged for his life, but the laughter of the pirates only grew.

“See you in Hell, boy,” the same voice said darkly.

A hard, sharp object was plunged into his back, opening up a large, gaping wound that immediately began pouring blood even before he went plunging into the water.

Doyoung didn’t have time to take a breath before being submerged under the salty ocean waters. He had no stored up air and the pain in his back was nearly unbearable. He struggled to get his feet free, to at least make them move, desperately reaching for the surface, praying for just a bit of oxygen, but as his blood stained the water red, his body sank deeper. His eyes locked on the ship sailing above water. The ship full of hateful pirates who, as he struggled not to fill his lungs with water, would pay for their transgressions.

He lost the battle with his body, his eyes already closing from blood loss, his mind fizzing in and out of consciousness. He inhaled the salty water, filling his lungs and choking.

His body flailed, rejecting the insufficient oxygen, desperately seeking air that would never come. His heartbeat hammered in his ears and, here in the silence of the ocean, suffering his death, he swore he saw movement rapidly moving toward him.

His eyes closed. A shark must have smelt his body and come for dinner, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care any longer as his mind finally stopped responding and his body stopped struggling.

Kim Doyoung was completely unaware of the arms wrapping around his body or the journey he was about to embark upon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Doyoung opened his eyes, he was laying flat on his back. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The second was the thin stretch of decorative twine across his chest, tying him to the surface which seemed too hard to be a bed. The third happened when he let out a scream and thrashed about for freedom, bubbles rising from his scream that told him he was most likely underwater.

Confused, Doyoung opened his mouth to take a breath, sure he was dreaming or in some weird state of mind, but as he swallowed in a mouthful of water, his body expelling the liquid, filtrating it out of holes in his neck and keeping the oxygen, he let out a yelp. He could breathe? Underwater?

He was beyond confused, but as he looked around the area he was in, his eyes caught something right below him. A long, scaly, blue-grey tail.

His eyes narrowed. Who did the tail belong to?

He reached out a leg to touch it, however, as he did this, he realized two things. One, he couldn’t feel his own leg and two, when he’d attempted to make a leg work, the tail itself had flexed.

“What the hell?!” Doyoung screeched.

He shook his shoulders hard, hard enough he was able to free an arm from the twine tying him to the surface. He brought his hand down around the twine to pull it free from his body, but as he did this, his gaze fixed on his arm. His skin was there, but on several parts of his skin, skin that was close to the bone, there were blue-grey scales shimmering in a dim light. But that wasn’t the only freaky thing. His nails were also an inch longer, pushing way past the end of his finger. They were sharpened to a point and the same, blue-grey color as the scales.

What the hell was happening to him?! Was this some prank? Or some lucid dream as he dies?!

Regardless of his confusion, his first need was to free himself from this twine. Once he was free, then he could worry about what the hell was going on.

He grabbed his hand around the twine and yanked, surprising himself with the amount of strength he had. The twine broke free from his body.

As soon as he was free, he pushed himself off the bed, but, as soon as he lifted, a sharp pain from his back shot through him, forcing him back down as he thrashed and whined.

“Careful. You aren’t healed yet,” a voice he didn’t recognize spoke.

This immediately caught his attention. He flashed up and looked around the room his was in frantically before finally, his eyes caught sight of long, brown hair floating aimlessly in the water. He narrowed his eyes and, as if coming out of her hiding place, a woman emerged.

She had piercing blue eyes and a slender body. She had a seashell bra that seemed to just barely cover her breasts. Doyoung blushed but he couldn’t look away, his eyes trailing lower, questioning what was going on. His eyes caught scales similar to his own on her arms and, with that, his eyes traveled below her waist where he gaped at her long, shimmering, green fish tail.

“What- how- huh-?” he stammered.

The woman smiled softly at him and moved… swam closer.

“My name is Magnolia, but everyone calls me Maggie,” she spoke, her voice sounding crystal clear in his head, not at all gurgled by the water.

Actually, looking at her, there were no bubbles coming from her mouth that wasn’t even moving.

“I am a Siren. I heard your cry for revenge on the pirates that hurt you, and I granted your wish,” she said.

Doyoung gaped at her.

“How- How can I hear you?” he stammered.

Bubbles flew from his mouth as he spoke.

“Don’t try to speak underwater. It is quite difficult. All of us have a telepathic link that, while in range, allows us to communicate,” she said.

Doyoung didn’t really understand, but he tried to.

“How did you grant my wish? Are the pirates dead?” he thought.

It seems he’d accomplished his goal when the woman gave him a small nod and a smile.

“No. They are responsible for your death. It is your choice to punish them as you wish,” she said.

Death? But… that wasn’t possible! He was alive! Unless this was Heaven, which he highly doubted.

“Don’t be alarmed. You did die. Your body bled out and you succumbed to the water, but, due to the violence of your death and your prayer for revenge, you were born again as a Siren.”

Doyoung stared at her, stunned and overwhelmed. A Siren? But they didn’t exist! Now she was telling him he was one!

“I-I…”

His vision tunneled and his body stopped responding as he lost consciousness once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Doyoung came to again, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, bringing a smile to his lips. He took in a deep breath that, at first, he expected to be full of water, but when he gulped down a mouth full of oxygen, his eyes flew open.

His back was pressed against the shore of a sandy beach. Waves lolled against the sand, keeping Doyoung from ever being completely dry.

It all must have been a dream. He must have somehow swam to the shore and washed up on the beach.

His body felt sore and stiff from laying in one spot for so long, but as he shuffled, he was able to sit himself upright. As he sat up, he took in his surroundings. The island was small and rocky. Jagged rocks plunged from the water around the shore of the island. The rocks were splattered with blood and surrounded by pieces of ships that had no doubt run onto the rocks. How in the world had he floated onto the island without being ripped to shreds by the rocks?! Had someone carried him?

As he looked down, he had his answer. A long, blue-grey tail shimmered in the sunlight. The scales were mostly dry, but the waves crashing onto the shore kept it moist enough.

So it wasn’t a dream.

“Oh good, you're awake,” a voice spoke near him.

He turned around to catch sight of the same brunette woman he’d seen below water.

“What am I doing here?” he asked.

His eyes trailed over her. The first thing he noticed about her was that she was walking, with human legs! Her fishtail nowhere in sight!

“This is one of the islands we populate. This one is a newer one, so the elders thought to bring you here,” she explained.

This boggled Doyoung’s brain. We? Elders? Just how big was this group of Sirens.

As if reading his mind, the woman, whom he remembered as Maggie, answered.

“There are more Sirens in the world than you might think. Some live deeper in the ocean, choosing not to be a part of our life while others choose to live on land with humans,” she explained.

“So… I’m a Siren now too… So what will I do?” he asked.

“That’s up to you. You may live on this island with the few of us that live here too and learn the way of the Sirens, luring sailors to our island and devouring them, you may choose to live far beneath the sea, or you may choose to roam with the humans,” she explained.

Doyoung’s head was spinning. So many choices to make!

“If I decide to stay on this island, can I change my mind later?” he asked.

“Of course! We’ll always be your family, but you are free to go as you please,” she answered.

This forced a breath out of Doyoung’s chest. At least he wouldn’t be forced into sticking with whatever decision he made now.

“What exactly do Sirens do?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unbeknownst to him at the time, this question opened a large can of worms that led him into spending the next 50 years projecting his newly acquired angelic voice off the island, luring in unsuspecting pirates and sailors. As their ships crashed into the rocks and the dazzled humans made their way onto the island, Doyoung and the rest of his kin ripped open their throats with their razor-like claws and drank in the sweet blood that tasted of wine on their tongues.

Doyoung even had the pleasure of ripping the heart out of the captain that had captured him all those years ago. Actually, it was the captain and the events thereafter that had him where he was today, sitting in a long, porcelain bathtub with his tail stretching over the side.

Doyoung had first become a Siren for revenge. Revenge on the pirates that had killed him. He had lost sight of that over the years until he and his kinfolk had lured the ship onto the rocky shore.

Everyone that Doyoung had known were long since gone, but there were new prisoners aboard, prisoners that had begged for their lives while Doyoung’s bloodthirsty, revengeful mind tore the captain apart.

He felt no remorse for the captain. It was his fault Doyoung had even become a Siren, but as he sat up and watched his fellow kinfolk rip the prisoners who hadn’t done anything wrong to shreds, he couldn’t take the life any longer.

They were innocent, yet, because they were human, their blood spilled on the rocks, even the blood of the purest human of them all, a small, three year old child who died at the hands of the man Doyoung had come to trust. The man Doyoung had fallen hard for, only to be let down at the males intolerance for humanity.

“I want to leave,” he’d told Maggie a few nights later.

And, with that, Doyoung packed away his few belongings and dived into the sea, leaving everyone he’d come to know and love behind.

He’d swum to another land mass, a mass he recognized slightly, but after so many years, a lot had changed.

He pulled himself out of the harbor and began a new life pretending to be human, only feeding when absolutely necessary and, even then, only on the fish he caught during a swim.

Present Day

A knock on the bathroom door tore Doyoung from his reverie. His body jolted, splashing water onto the floor.

“Babe? Is everything ok? You’ve been in there a while!” his boyfriend's voice spoke on the other side.

Doyoung exhaled.

He had wandered from place to place on the Asian continent for about 3 years before finally making his way back to his hometown. There, he had met a man by the name of Qian Kun, a Chinese male who had relocated to South Korea many years before. The two became fast friends and Kun became the only “human” that knew Doyoung’s secret.

Turns out, Kun himself wasn’t human either, but a vampire that had actually been born a century before Doyoung.

Kun offered Doyoung a place to stay in his mansion along with a few other people, some human, some not.

It was there that Doyoung met Jung Jaehyun, the human that would thaw his frozen heart and teach him the goodness of the world again.

Jaehyun was human when they’d met, but it wasn’t long after Jaehyun, a broke college student, had moved in, that an unfortunate accident involving a rogue werewolf in the woods.

Jaehyun was bitten by a newly turned wolf and became a wolf himself. A wolf that had broken up with Doyoung for about a year until Johnny and Yukhei had come to live at the house, Johnny an alpha werewolf and Yukhei, his best friend and beta.

Johnny and Jaehyun had hated each other at first, Jaehyun presenting as an alpha, but after a huge fight in the backyard that ended with Doyoung and Taeyong nursing Jaehyun’s wounds, Jaehyun joined the small “pack” between Yukhei and Johnny.

There was never another issue. Except for the small fact that Doyoung had never told anyone but Kun and Taeyong the truth about his past, or the true creature he was, too ashamed to admit the awful things he had done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door handle jiggled, causing Doyoung to jump again.

“Doie! Are you ok?” Jaehyun spoke, voice dripped in concern.

Doyoung’s stomach dropped in guilt. Jaehyun had always been open with him about what he was, granted, Doyoung was there when he became what he was, but still, Jaehyun was always open. Doyoung hadn’t returned the courtesy.

“I’m fine Jae! I just got lost in my thoughts!” he responded.

It wasn’t completely a lie.

“Come to my room when you get out, ok? I want to talk to you about something.”

Doyoung didn’t respond as he heard Jaehyun walk away. What was he going to do? Could he tell Jaehyun now and let everything be ok? Could they survive the truth after Doyoung had hid it for so long.

He pulled the plug holding the water in the tub. The water had long since grown cold, something Doyoung hardly noticed anymore.

As the water drained, he pulled himself off the bathtub floor and held himself up until he was sitting on the edge.

Learning how to bathe without leaving the room with a shredded bathroom had been a challenge, but he’d eventually learned.

He lifted his dripping tail from the water, flicking water off his scales before sliding it gently onto the tiled bathroom floor. He shivered at the contact as he reached for a towel hanging nearby, careful not to shred it with his long fingernails.

He dried his upper body first before getting a fresh towel and running it down his tail, drying the scales and his flipper.

Once dry, he rested his tail on a dry towel laying in the floor and waited for his tail to disappear back into two legs.

He didn’t have to wait long before he was able to push himself off the side of the bathtub and walk out the door. Usually, he liked to double check the bathtub and scoop out any scales that had fallen from his tail. In his haste to get to Jaehyun’s room, he had forgotten.

As he stepped into Jaehyun’s room, the younger male instantly gave him a smile and trotted over. He looked like a puppy excited to see its owner and, had Jaehyun been in wolf form, he was sure the males tail would be wagging.

“What did you want?” Doyoung asked.

His question immediately brought a pout to Jaehyun’s lips. Doyoung shook his head with a little laugh and moved closer. He pressed a soft kiss to Jaehyun’s lips.

“I just wanted to talk. To hang out. We never do that anymore,” Jaehyun said.

Instantly, Doyoung felt bad. He hadn’t intended to ignore his boyfriend. Fact was, he just didn’t know how to tell Jaehyun the truth after he’d been hiding it for so long.

“I’m sorry baby. Let’s talk,” he said.

He made his way over to Jaehyun’s bed. He laid down on one side, immediately pressing his face into Jaehyun’s pillow that always smelled like the woods and Jaehyun’s Old Spice shampoo.

Jaehyun slid onto the bed on the other side and wrapped an arm around Doyoung’s waist, drawing a smile from the male in question as he snuggled closer against his boyfriends broad chest. This was probably his favorite place. A place where nothing else in the world mattered besides the two of them.

“You know I love you,” Jaehyun spoke.

His voice vibrated in his chest, causing Doyoung to shudder as chills sprouted up his arms.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

He didn’t realize until Jaehyun smirked how breathless he had sounded.

He blushed and curled closer to hide his face in Jaehyun’s chest, but the werewolf seemed to have another plan, cupping Doyoung’s face and drawing him to his mouth. Minty breath brushed against Doyoung’s lips as they grew closer. He closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly.

Jaehyun moved slowly. He was teasing him, and Doyoung loved every minute of it, because, the second Jaehyun’s warm lips pressed against his own, Doyoung melted into the males arms, butterflies erupting in his stomach and heart pounding in his chest.

The two had kissed before, of course, but Doyoung could’t get over the feeling every time his boyfriend kissed him. It always felt like the first kiss. And Doyoung wouldn’t have it any other way.

One of Jaehyun’s arms stayed securely wrapped around Doyoung’s waist, keeping him pressed flush against his chest while the other wound into Doyoung’s hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a small groan from Doyoung’s throat.

Doyoung’s hands gripped onto Jaehyun’s shirts, holding on for dear life, as if he’d lose Jaehyun in an abyss if he let go.

Oh how right he was.

Jaehyun’s hand had just slipped under the bottom of Doyoung’s shirt, fingers tracing delicately over the skin, when the door burst open.

The two quickly pulled away, fixing their eyes on the door where Donghyuck stood, hand slapped over his eyes.

“Geez! It’s 6 in the evening! At least wait until everyone's asleep!” the male complained.

Doyoung groaned and shot the younger a glare. It wasn’t harsh, but not soft either.

“What do you want Hyuckie?” Jaehyun asked.

Donghyuck walked into the room, making himself at home, much to Doyoung’s annoyance.

“I was just in the bathroom,” Donghyuck began.

“Congratulations,” Doyoung retorted sarcastically.

Donghyuck shot Doyoung a smirk and, almost instantly, his annoyance at the male turned to fear.

“Hyuckie-?” Doyoung questioned nervously.

“I found these in the bathroom after Doyoung hyungs shower!”

Donghyuck presented two blue-gray fish scales.

Doyoung paled and reached up to snatch the scales, but Jaehyun was faster.

“Oh, fish scales! Doyoung must have been cleaning his fish tank,” Jaehyun responded with a shrug, taking the scales from Donghyuck’s palm.

Donghyuck stared at him incredulously.

“Hyung doesn’t have a fish tank…”

“Thank you for getting them out of the drain, hyuckie! You have really saved Taeyong hyung some trouble cleaning! He already has enough to deal with in the drains with the way Johnny, Yukhei, and I all shed,” Jaehyun said.

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Donghyuck who stood there flabbergasted before turning around and leaving the room.

Doyoung slid himself away from Jaehyun slightly to look at the man who had covered for him. He didn’t have a fish tank. Jaehyun had acted so cool about the whole thing. Did he suspect Doyoung had gone fishing or something? No. He was way too chill for that. He hadn’t questioned Doyoung at all. But that could only mean…

“How’d you find out,” Doyoung muttered.

He hung his head and sat up, expecting to be kicked out of the room at any second.

“You’re not as stealthy as you like to think,” Jaehyun spoke.

Doyoung flinched at his voice and closed his eyes.

“You were stressed and upset about a month ago because of so much chaos in the house. That night, you ran from the house. Do you remember?”

Doyoung nodded. He remembered that night like it was yesterday. He had bolted from the house and through the city, never stopping until he got to the empty harbor on the other edge of town. He’d jumped into the water and as soon as the water had closed over his head, encasing him in silence, he’d instantly felt better.

He’d swum for a while, debating on whether or not to go back. Part of him wanted to just disappear. But they were his family and no matter how chaotic they got, Doyoung would always go back.

The second he’d slipped back onto the dock, Kun had been waiting for him with a towel. They’d sat out there drying Doyoung off for an hour where Kun comforted him.

“I followed you. Or rather, I followed your scent to the harbor. I was worried but I watched Kun talk to you. I saw your secret. At first, I was angry that you didn’t tell me. But I talked to Kun and I understood. So, I decided to wait for you to tell me. Did you not trust me enough sooner?” he asked.

There was a hint of pain in his voice that brought tears to Doyoung eyes.

“No I do… It was just… I waited to tell you at first. Then I kept pushing it off out of fear. I was afraid you’d think I was a freak…”

The tears dripped down his face now, droplets hitting the soft blankets before Jaehyun wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back into his chest.

“Baby, you know I love you, right?”

Doyoung looked up at him, eyes still glassy. He turned around and buried his face back in his boyfriend's chest.

It felt so nice to be accepted.

“I love you too.”

#nct oneshot #nct series #supernatural #sirens #mermaids #werewolves #vampires #haechan is a little shit

7 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Text

Masterlist

To make things easier for readers (and myself) to find all of my fics, I have compiled a masterlist to organize everything.

Series

Qian Manor

With 23 boys of various different species living together without knowing, things can be a little tense a chaotic.

Kept Secrets - JohnTen

Synopsis: Ten has a secret. A big secret. A secret that creates black, inky tattoo’s all over his arms and causes a giant beast to have tea party’s in the middle of the forest. With this secret comes great hurt and anxiety about his boyfriend, Johnny, finding out. Little does Ten know that Johnny has a secret too, and Johnny’s secret will lead him to finding out Ten’s. If only Ten had listened to Kun.

Of Fins and Tails - DoeJae

How will Jaehyun feel when he finds out that the man he loves is far more complicated than any human?

Requests

A Wilted Flower - Jaemin x Jeno

Multi-ships One-Shots

Shard of Broken Things - Jaemin x Renjun

Synopsis: Renjun and Jaemin went to high school together. They were the best of friends, but after high school, they went their separate ways. Now, Renjun is investigating the mysterious deaths in the city with his partner, Jeno, and Jaemin is piercing veins with his teeth and dumping the bodies in dumpsters at midnight. What happens when they meet again? Will Renjun discover Jaemin’s secret?

Breathe - MarkHyuck

Synopsis: How much would it take for Haechan to break? How much more stress could his body take? He wished it could be over already. He longed for them just to leave him alone. Even for just a moment. His hopes continued to go unanswered. Two promotions. Two groups. Running around the company all night. No food. No sleep. How much longer would he last in these conditions. With Mark no longer in his shoes, things were even harder. His best friend could no longer be there when he felt the world was going to end from the weight piling up on his fragile shoulders. Mark knew more than Haechan realized, though. And he’d discover that even through the worst of circumstances, the boy was never out of reach.

#nct series #nct fanfic #nct masterlist #oneshots #requests #asks open #bxblove #johnten #markhyuck #doejae #Johnny x Ten #mark x haechan #Doyoung x Jaehyun #Jaemin x Renjun #jaemin x jeno

28 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Text

Kept Secrets

Paring(s): Johnny x Ten

Genre: Supernatural, Angst, fluffy ending

Synopsis: Ten has a secret. A big secret. A secret that creates black, inky tattoo's all over his arms and causes a giant beast to have tea party's in the middle of the forest. With this secret comes great hurt and anxiety about his boyfriend, Johnny, finding out. Little does Ten know that Johnny has a secret too, and Johnny's secret will lead him to finding out Ten's. If only Ten had listened to Kun.

Warnings: mentions of witchcraft, a demon, supernatural elements

Word Count: 6400

Author's Notes: This is the first story in a several oneshot series called Qian Manor, a supernatural series. This story has been posted on AO3 and on Amino! I hope you enjoy!

Edit created by Sunny on NCT Amino!

The full, midnight moon hung high in the nearly black, cloudless sky. Qian Kun sat on the old creaky porch, back resting in the springy green chairs nursing the red liquid inside the small China teacup, his dear friend, Lee Taeyong, sitting across from him, drinking a honey colored liquid from his own cup. The porch overlooked a beautiful garden, filled with gloriously extravagant flowers that Taeyong took special pride in. It was a wonder the others hadn’t seemed to notice that the flowers never died, even in the winter. Apart from the garden was a yard, the grass cut short, and a laundry line running across from the edge of the porch to a sturdy oak at the edge of the woods. The yard was filled with various items, from broken laundry baskets and empty buckets to curiously placed dog bones and old shoes. Beyond the yard was a vast, dense wood that stretched on for miles and never seemed to touch anyone else's property. That was one of the reasons Kun had purchased this house so many years ago, and, as a slightly familiar howl from a wolf filled the air, followed by two more distinct howls, Kun was even more glad.

“Beautiful night,” Taeyong muttered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake any of the house occupants.

Kun hummed in response, taking another sip from his teacup.

The howls died down and silence settled over the two friends again, until the soft squeaking of the opening back door alerted them both that someone was awake. Their heads turned toward the door just as another friend, Ten, stepped onto the porch, dressed in a long dark cloak, carrying a wicker basket filled with black objects in various shapes. His bare feet crept across the porch, attempting not to wake anyone, seemingly unaware of the two sitting in their green chairs.

“Little late to be going out for a stroll,” Kun spoke softly.

Ten’s body jolted, as if his soul were jumping from his skin in that moment. He turned to face Kun and Taeyong, his dark eyes wide.

“You scared me!” he hissed when he’d regained his senses.

Kun shrugged and took another sip from his teacup.

“Little late to be going out for a stroll,” he repeated.

Ten rolled his eyes and stepped toward the three little steps leading into the grass.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Kun rolled his eyes. As far as excuses went, this was one of Ten’s lamest. He knew exactly where Ten was going, Ten knew he knew too.

“What? Couldn’t sleep without your giant cuddle bear?” Taeyong asked teasingly.

Ten hummed in agreement.

“I hate when he’s not here. But I also don’t want to tell him he can’t go out with his friends for beers,” he said.

Kun sighed at this.

“Just be careful, there are wolves out tonight. Don’t want to get gobbled up,” Taeyong offered.

A slight smile tugged to the corners of Kun’s mouth at the innuendo only he and his friend understood.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ten waved off before stepping off the porch and into the grass.

Kun nor Taeyong said anything else as Ten made his way across the yard before disappearing into the black woods just as another howl ripped through the air.

“This is bound to be interesting,” Taeyong mused after Ten disappeared.

“They’ve got to find out one way or another,” Kun added.

“I still don’t understand how they’ve been dating for over a year and neither has picked up the oddities of the other,” Taeyong said.

It was curious. Ten was obvious, but also weird, so when he carried that basket full of black candles into the forest, no one questioned his motives. Johnny on the other hand… Johnny was obvious. So obvious that Kun and Taeyong weren’t the only ones that knew of the giant man’s secrets. How Ten had missed it was beyond Kun.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out tonight?” Taeyong asked.

Kun brought his teacup back to his lips, polishing off the red liquid.

“I suppose we’ll find out in the morning,” he said.

He parted his lips, his fangs glistening in the moonlight as he ran his tongue over them, licking away the residual blood.

“Afraid a certain someone won’t kiss you if you taste like blood?” Taeyong asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Goodnight Taeyong,” Kun replied with a groan.

He stood up from his chair, taking his teacup with him. He walked inside, placing the cup in the sink before slowly walking up the stairs to crawl in bed with his girlfriend, who’d likely already fallen asleep.

Whatever happened was going to happen. Johnny and Ten had chosen not to be honest with one another from the beginning. Perhaps tonight would mark the end of that. Perhaps tonight, the Wolf and the Witch would finally meet at last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bare feet silently walked through the dark woods, never faltering even as questionable substances squished between his toes. He gave no inclination of being worried about the wolves howling somewhere deeper in the woods or the spooky noises coming from every direction.

He walked until he was in roughly the center of the forest, far away from the large house that he didn’t have to worry about any of his curious housemates sneaking out into the woods to figure out what he was doing.

He dropped the wicker basket he was carrying on the ground and carefully maneuvered around the black, waxy objects inside to pull out a black and white checkered picnic blanket. He unfolded it and fanned it out, letting it swoop delicately onto the mossy earth. He placed the basket in the center to hold it in place and pulled out the objects, eleven black candles, all burned to about the same height. He began placing them around the picnic blanket in a circle, being especially sure to make sure they were almost an equal distance apart. Once that was completed, he took from the basket two small teacups that he’d smuggled from the kitchen and Taeyong’s favorite tea kettle, still warm. He placed the kettle in the center of the blanket and the tea cups on each side, one for himself, and one for his guest. Finally, once all was set up, Ten pulled a lighter from the basket and moved the basket back onto the bare ground. He stripped off his black robe, revealing himself shirtless and in a pair of black boxer shorts he’d stolen from his boyfriend. His skin was finally on full view in the dim light of the moon. Sucken, black tattoos carved all over his chest and torso. Tattoos and symbols in Latin characters that almost screamed evil. The tattoos almost resembled scars from the various jagged edges of skin. They covered almost every inch of the male, chest, back, and down both his legs.

Ten flicked on the lighter, as he moved to light the first candle, his eyes turned black as coal. He hovered the flickering flame over the first candle until the wick caught. Then Ten moved to the next one, patiently lighting all eleven candles before tossing the lighter back into the basket and sitting down on his side of the blanket. He closed his eyes for a small second. He could feel the power of the candles and the looming shadows of the demons and monsters he’d summoned just by existing here. A smile climbed onto his face as he took a deep, almost relaxing breath.

“Azzoch, I summon you,” he breathed, voice level and smooth.

He didn’t speak very loud but, as a gust of cold, sulfery wind splashed across his face, his smile grew wider and his eyes opened.

Now, sitting across from him, giving him an almost irritated look, sat a creature that Ten had come to know very well, his Patron. A demonic creature named Azzoch.

The creature had long legs and cloven feet, a large, stocky body, and thick arms. It’s hands were massive with spindled claws on each finger and it’s head like that of a bull's skull, but larger. A thin, fleshy membrane covered the skull, the nearly transparent dark skin pulled so taunt it appeared as though it would rip any moment. The creatures teeth were gnarly and huge, hidden slightly by bony lips composed of bunched up membrane around the mouth, and the creatures eyes were sunken into the skull, leaving two black holes.

“Seriously?” the creature's voice boomed in a deep, ringing tone that was so obviously not a sound from humanity.

“Tea party picnic,” Ten grinned as he grabbed the kettle in the center of the blanket and poured some of the warmed tea into the creature's cup and then his own.

“Last time it was a ‘sleepover’ and this time a picnic. I wonder what next time will be,” the creature said, voice full of some combination of irritation and agony.

Ten didn’t reply. He simply smirked and picked up his teacup, bringing it to his lips and slurping loudly. The creature groaned at this and reached to pick up its tea cup, however, a small teacup versus giant hands with spindle claws was not as simple as it might sound. He grunted in frustration as he attempted to pick up the cup and missing until finally, one of his claws hooked the tiny handle and he was able to lift up the cup.

“You should show me more respect. I’m your patron after all,” the creature spoke, bringing the cup to his lips and tipping its contents into its mouth.

“I’m also your only disciple. Therefore, I have the right to respect you as much or as little as I wish,” Ten chirped.

The creature groaned again. Who knew that when Ten had signed his soul over to the devil that his patron demon would be the one regretting the deal.

“Regretting living with the meatbags you call housemates yet?” the creature asked, changing the subject.

Ten shot it a playful glare.

“My boyfriend is one of those ‘meatbags’ thank you very much.”

“A meatbag that doesn’t know what you are?”

Ten shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m cherishing him as much as I can before he runs for the hills.”

The creature let out a little chuckle.

“You knew what you were getting into when you made the deal.”

Ten glared again at the creature, but this time it wasn’t friendly.

“Not fully! I didn’t know at the time that I’d fall in love and have to hide it from the person I loved!” he argued.

“No one says you have to hide it,” the creature pointed out.

“Johnny wouldn’t exactly understand if I just suddenly came out and said ‘Hey! I’m a demonic witch! I sold my soul to the devil and now I have a giant ox-like creature whom I have to meet with once a month!’” Ten complained.

Another wolf howl caught Ten’s attention for a split second before he turned back to the creature.

He sighed. He knew he shouldn’t be complaining. He’d chosen this life for himself. Now there was no going back.

The sound of rustling leaves from somewhere behind him caught his attention, but he didn’t turn around. Whatever was out there couldn’t hurt either of them if it tried.

“Whatever Ten, but if you lose him because you’re choosing not to be honest, don’t blame me. That’s on you.”

Ten opened his mouth to retort when a sudden growling and snarling from some animal appeared behind him. Slowly, he turned around, only to come face to face with a large brown wolf, larger than any wolf he’d ever seen before. It had long, sharp teeth bared and growling, except, the odd thing was, it’s eyes weren’t fixated on Ten, but on Azzoch.

“What the-” Ten murmured.

“That thing looks like it wants to eat me alive! Why the hell is it not trying to rip you apart?!” the creature spoke.

It would have been comical if Ten hadn’t been wondering the same thing.

The wolf took a few steps forward, it’s massive feet moving around Ten, eyes still locked on Azzoch, growling getting louder now. Ten watched, frozen as this wolf bypassed him. The wolf had to know that Ten would be the easier choice to kill. Virtually impossible, but still easier than the demonic creature. So why was the wolf so fixated on said creature. It was almost like… like it was protecting Ten… But that was so weird.

Ten had been so fixated on this wolf that he hadn’t noticed several other wolves surrounding them until the first wolves attention suddenly snapped to something on the other side of Ten. Rapidly, Ten moved his head just in time to watch another large wolf, although this one solid white, creeping towards Ten, it’s ember eyes full of hunger. It got closer and looked as though it were about ready to pounce. Ten steadied his hand, ready to knock this wolf back when it lunged for him, but the giant brown wolf beat him. It jumped over Ten to pounce on the white wolf, mouth wide open to rip the wolf’s throat. Ten let out a little yelp as the brown wolf’s paws hit the white wolf, knocking the wolf to the ground, but the fight wasn’t won. The white wolf fought its way up and snapped at the brown wolf’s throat. Loud, angry growls filled the air. Growls that, for some reason, made Ten’s heartbeat rise in his chest. He’d seen fights like this before, but now, as he watched the white wolf rip fur from the brown wolf’s pelt, he wanted to jump onto the brown wolf and save it. But right as he was about to do just that, another large wolf, this one black, jumped in.

Ten was about to jump up, unsure if this wolf was there to help the white wolf or the brown wolf, but as the black wolf snapped hard at the white wolf’s throat, he relaxed slightly. He still didn’t quite understand what was going on, but the brown wolf had help.

It was strange how attached he’d become to the brown wolf…

As the three wolves fought, Ten turned back to look at Azzoch, the demonic creature who had already vanished. Ten looked around at the circle of candles, three of which were blown out. He let out a breath and turned around to blow out the candles behind him when he came face to face with a smaller, reddish brown wolf who was just staring at him. The eyes of the wolf also very familiar, although he couldn’t figure out where he’d seen them.

With the fight going on in the background, Ten waited for the wolf to pounce on him, however, the wolf lowered its head and slowly walked closer to Ten, but not in a hostile or aggressive way. It was almost acting as though it wanted Ten to pet him.

Hesitantly, Ten brought a hand down on the soft fur of the wolf, earning himself a snort from the wolf that soon somehow made its way onto Ten’s lap.

Why was this wolf so familiar? Why were all the wolves, save for the white one, so familiar?

As Ten’s fingers weaved through the reddish-brown wolf’s fur, he glanced over to the fight going on just in time for the white wolf to finally give up and run off as a third wolf, this one a honey brown, appeared.

The brown wolf snarled at the black wolf that had come to it’s aid, the black wolf nodding and running off to chase after the white wolf. Ten stared at the exchange. Did that wolf just… nod…?

The brown wolf turned back around to face Ten, a growl rising from its lips, but not in a way that scared Ten. He knew, for some reason, that the wolf wouldn’t hurt him.

The reddish brown wolf gave Ten a lick to the face before getting off his lap just in time for a grotesquely loud popping to fill Ten’s ears. His eyes locked back on the brown wolf in astonishment as the wolf’s bones began to reshape and the fur reseeding into skin before a tall, naked man stood in front of the group.

Ten’s heart dropped as he stared open-mouthed at the man standing before him. In that moment, he realized two things. One, these wolves were not ordinary. They were indeed werewolves. And two, the brown wolf that had been trying to protect him, was his beloved boyfriend. Johnny.

“So do you want to explain to me who the hell that was and what is all over your body?” Johnny asked, voice flared with anger.

Ten shuddered lightly. It wasn’t a common occurrence for Johnny to get angry, but when he did, it always sent a spark through Ten’s core. However, now was not the time for that.

“I think you have explaining to do too, Johnny Suh!” Ten fired back.

His veins were on fire. Partly from rage, partly from the tone of Johnny’s voice, but he chose to focus on the rage and anger. How could Johnny have kept this secret from him?!

At Ten’s tone, Johnny took a long step forward and moved so that he was barely a foot away from Ten, towering over him.

“Who was that,” Johnny growled.

Normally, Ten would feel an exhilarating sense of intimidation that would result in Ten pressed up against a wall. But now, it only made him angrier because he knew exactly what Johnny was trying to do.

He placed his hands on Johnny’s chest and, using a force of strength that wasn’t entirely his own, he shoved the male back, hard. So hard, in fact, that his rear-end slammed into the ground, eliciting a surprised grunt from Johnny and a sinister growl in Ten’s direction from the honey colored wolf.

Johnny sat up and placed a hand on the wolf’s flank lightly.

“It’s OK, Yukhei.”

Ten’s eyes widened.

“Yukhei?!” he exclaimed.

Johnny let out another grunt as if to confirm Ten’s question before getting up, not bothering to dust off his backside.

“What are you?” he asked. His voice was far from kind, and it almost made Ten want to wrap his arms around the taller male and beg for forgiveness.

But he didn’t, whether it was from his own stubbornness or own sense of betrayal.

“What if I don’t want to tell you?! You freaking liar!” Ten shrieked back.

He knew he was as much in the wrong as Johnny was. They’d both lied and kept secrets, but that didn’t appease Ten in any way.

“You’re calling me a liar?! I wasn’t the one having tea with some freaking demonic creature surrounded by candles and covered in black tattoos I sure as hell have never seen!”

Ten’s fingers balled into a fist and his eyes began to glow red.

“Maybe I was having a meeting with my freaking patron! But here you are growling like a freaking crazy creature at it and now turning from a wolf into a human! You didn’t tell me you’re a freaking werewolf!” Ten shouted back, no longer bothering to be quiet.

The ground beneath his feet began to quake, an effect on his overwhelming surge of rage. The shadows of the woods began to move, fangs and claws tearing themselves from the trees and ground, causing the reddish brown wolf to let out a yelp and run to stand behind Johnny with its tail between its legs. Johnny shot a glare at Ten before kneeling down to gently pat the wolf.

“It’s alright, YangYang,” he soothed softly.

The quaking stopped and Ten’s arms fell lax by his sides. He knew that the wolf had looked familiar. His little brother. He’d terrified his little brother. The one that had come to comfort him.

“YangYang, I’m-” Ten began but he was cut off by a sharp glare from Johnny.

His shoulders slumped. He should have told Johnny. Maybe if he had come clean, Johnny would have too.

“Look, Johnny-” Ten began again, but this time he was cut off by a loud, ringing howl.

Johnny turned to look in the direction of the howl along with Lucas and YangYang.

“Jaehyun’s found the wolf,” Johnny said, although Ten knew he wasn’t talking to him.

With that, Lucas moved away from Johnny and dashed off into the trees, YangYang hot on his trail. Johnny didn’t even spare Ten a glance before he was quickly growing fur and four wolvish legs. He dashed off into the woods and, it was at that exact moment that Ten’s heart dropped, because, he knew he'd royally screwed up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ten’s eyes opened the next morning, he knew what had happened the night before. He remembered the events of the evening, but that didn’t prepare him to wake up alone in his large King bed, Johnny’s side cold and still made up.

Ten sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe Johnny was still out with the boys… well, existing in some wolf’s den to last out the full moon.

He still wasn’t accustomed to thinking about Johnny as a wolf…

There was a knock at the door and the person didn’t wait for Ten to invite them in before opening his door.

“I brought you breakfast,” Taeyong’s voice greeted.

Ten sighed. Taeyong. One of the only people that knew Ten’s secret.

“You didn’t have to,” Ten muttered.

He made no move to sit up to greet Taeyong or react appropriately to his guest. All he could be bothered to do was roll over in bed to face the male.

“You got in really late last night. I figured you’d be tired… And I thought you could use a friend,” Taeyong spoke.

He carried a tray over to Ten’s bedside table and placed it down. From where Ten lay, he could see the still steaming porridge in a fancy bowl, a smaller bowl of fresh fruit beside it. Ten made a face. Taeyong never seemed to get that this was Ten’s least favorite breakfast. But he knew the male made the easiest meals. He was still learning, after all.

“So you heard?” Ten mumbled.

He closed his eyes and sank deeper against his pillow with a groan.

“YangYang told us this morning,” Taeyong answered.

He felt around on the bed for Ten’s legs and, when he found them, he carefully pushed them to the side and moved to sit down on the bed, his hand coming to settle on Ten’s hip, stroking softly.

“He’s a wolf,” Ten muttered.

“Yes,” Taeyong answered.

“And you knew…”

“Yes,” Taeyong spoke again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Taeyong let out a sigh and moved his hand in soothing circles over Ten’s hip.

“It wasn’t our place. Kun and I know everything that goes on in this house. We knew Johnny was a wolf. Actually, there’s not many people who don’t know. He doesn’t try to hide it. How you didn’t know is still a mystery to me.”

Ten groaned in slight annoyance.

“We also knew what you were. We didn’t think it was our place to tell Johnny. We just kind of assumed when you two started getting serious that you’d talk it out together. But when you didn’t…” Taeyong trailed off.

Ten let out a sigh and pulled the blankets over his head, hiding away in the shadows of his duvets.

“Why didn’t you, Ten?” Taeyong asked.

Ten sighed again but didn’t pull the duvet back.

“Because I love him,” he said.

He felt Taeyong shift.

“Shouldn’t that mean you tell him everything?”

Ten shook his head although he knew Taeyong couldn’t see him.

“I’m a freak Yong. I made that stupid deal when I was young and wanted power to get my mom away from that monster and my sister away from the men who hurt her. But it backfired. They had nothing to do with me because of my choice and I’ve had to live with that! Now they’re both gone. Everyone I love leaves me then dies! I couldn’t…”

Tears peaked to Ten’s eyes and before he could hold them back, they were rolling down his cheeks, and with them, came the dam crashing down. His shoulders began to shake and quiver, tears openly spewing from his eyes, turning him into a blubbering mess. He curled in on himself slightly, hugging his knees to his chest.

As he sobbed, the bed moved and, for a moment, he thought Taeyong was leaving him to cry, but when the other side of the blanket lifted up and Taeyong’s body was sliding in beside Ten’s, Ten felt himself relax slightly. Taeyong’s small but strong arms wrapped around Ten’s middle, hugging him tightly as if he were trying to hold Ten together. He placed his face against Ten’s neck and whispered soft words as his fingers drew small miscellaneous shapes against Ten’s clothed body.

When Ten had calmed down enough to speak again, he took a deep breath and leaned closer to Taeyong, seeking more warmth and comfort.

“I couldn’t lose him… He is everything… He means everything… I couldn’t let him be one more person to leave me because I made a horrible choice I can’t take back,” Ten whispered hoarsely.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted so badly to be angry at Johnny, but looking back, Johnny really had been very obvious. From his love of Ten’s shoes to chasing Kun around the whole house when Kun refused to give him the last bloody steak. He hadn’t tried to hide it. Sure, he hadn’t come right out and said he was a werewolf, but he still hadn’t tried to hide it like Ten had. Ten never got intimate with Johnny completely bare. He had enough strength and concentration to hide the markings on his legs but not the rest of his body. He hid his candles in the closet and always snuck out when he was meeting with Azzoch. He had driven Johnny away when he was trying so hard not to drive him away.

With a sniffle, Ten wiped his eyes and curled up against the pillow. Taeyong hugged him tighter until Ten’s door opening caught both of their attention. Ten uncovered his head, his bloodshot and tearstained eyes glinting with hope that Johnny was here to forgive him. However, when YangYang’s head peered around the corner, the hope dropped slightly. Still, Ten knew he had some making up and explaining to do with YangYang too. So, instead of disappearing back under the blankets like he wanted and like he would have after seeing the male, he lifted the blanket up and opened his arms.

Part of Ten expected YangYang to scoff and walk away, but when YangYang immediately bolted through the door and dived onto Ten’s bed, practically headbutting himself into Ten’s chest, Ten’s arms wrapped around the male in surprise and comfort.

“I’m sorry for scaring you last night,” he murmured against the youngers neck.

YangYang’s arms locked themselves around Ten’s waist, squeezing with a force that Ten knew was less than human. Ten just rubbed down the males back soothingly.

“Why didn’t you tell me…” YangYang muttered and, Ten was sure he felt something wet drop onto his neck.

He pulled YangYang’s body tighter.

“I was afraid you’d all leave me when you learned what I was,” he muttered honestly.

YangYang didn’t respond again, choosing instead to burrow his face in Ten’s neck. Ten stroked his hands up and down YangYang’s back when he felt the bed shift again and Taeyong’s arms recoiled from around him.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Taeyong whispered softly, almost as though he were afraid to ruin a conversation by talking too loudly.

Ten nodded and pulled YangYang a little tighter as Taeyong quietly made his way from the room, closing the door with a quiet click behind him.

“You could have trusted me,” YangYang muttered.

Ten sighed softly and nuzzled against the younger's face. He wasn’t used to this. Usually, when YangYang was sad or upset, he’d hide it away until night fell when he’d crawl into Ten’s or Kun’s bed to sleep. Usually Ten’s bed after Kun had gotten married and began sharing his bed with a woman. Ten would hold and comfort him, let the younger bask in the warmth and comfort before they would talk about what was bothering him. Then, YangYang was back to his usual self, being an annoying little shit with his boyfriend. This was out of character. Way out of character. And if this was how YangYang was feeling, he hated to know how his big fluffy teddy bear that would only cry at night in Ten’s arms felt.

“I do trust you, Yangie, but I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me anymore,” he said.

YangYang mumbled something against him.

“Do you know what I am?” he asked.

YangYang paused before shaking his head.

“I’m a demonic witch. I sold my soul to the devil and took on a demonic beast as my patron.”

YangYang didn’t even react and, at first, Ten wasn’t sure the younger had heard him.

“I’m a werewolf. So is Johnny. So is Lucas and Jaehyun. Kun is a freaking vampire and Donghyuck is an Imp. Do you think I give a damn that you’re a demonic witch? Do you really think Johnny does?”

Ten sat, shocked for a moment. How had he been so blind he, one, didn’t know that all these people YangYang listed off were also creatures, but more than that, he had let his hurt over his family dictate his honesty with Johnny.

Ten shifted around in the bed, jumping up slightly, startling YangYang.

“I have to apologize!” he wailed.

“You’ll have to wait. The alpha’s went out to find the nearby pack after one of their newly turned tried to kill you last night,” YangYang said, snuggling into Ten’s pillow.

“Alphas?” Ten asked.

“Johnny and Jaehyun,” YangYang answered.

“They went to what?”

YangYang sighed and let out a low groan.

“The wolf that tried to kill you last night was a newly turned alpha that Jaehyun wounded pretty badly when he caught him. They went to talk to the pack alpha. If you had been an ordinary person, they’d have no right, but you were covered in Johnny’s scent and clearly the alpha’s mate. Attempting to kill an alpha’s mate is punishable by death,” YangYang answered lazily as if it was the most common thing in the world to talk about.

Ten stared at the male dumbfounded, the cogs in his brain turning to fast he was surprised steam wasn’t floating from his ears as his brain tried to comprehend what YangYang was saying.

“Alpha’s mate?”

“That’s seriously what you’re most worried about?”

Ten shot YangYang an unamused glare that resulted in YangYang groaning to himself.

“Jaehyun and Johnny are both alpha’s, but Johnny is the head alpha. When Jaehyun was turned, they fought, Johnny won-”

“But that doesn’t answer my question!” Ten interrupted.

“Would you let me finish!” YangYang snapped, but the cheeky grin on his face made Ten slap him lightly.

“Now, as I was saying,” YangYang continued, “Johnny defeated Jaehyun making him the leader of our pack. You are his mate, something that is clear to anyone that gets close enough to sniff you-”

“I don’t stink! I think someone would say something if I smelled like Johnny’s sweaty workout clothes!” Ten objected.

YangYang fixed him with a pointed stare.

“If you’re going to keep interrupting me, I’m not going to explain,” he threatened.

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

YangYang grinned at the apology while Ten rolled his eyes.

“Anyone who can smell scents on the molecular level can tell he scents you-”

Ten opened his mouth to speak but YangYang slapped a hand over his mouth.

“This means when you two cuddle or hug, he rubs his face against your neck and top of your head. Anyone who has a stronger sense of smell can smell his scent. His natural scent is a deep pine scent. Anyone who smells it knows that you are scent marked. Any werewolf or vampires can smell it on you,” YangYang explained. “Now you may ask questions,” he said, removing his hand from Ten’s mouth.

Ten stared at the male in shock, mouth agape.

“So… that’s why Johnny attacked that wolf? Because he’s marked me?” Ten asked.

“It goes deeper than that. You’re his mate,” YangYang answered.

“So he loves me?”

YangYang groaned.

“It’s deeper than that!”

“Then explain it! What do you mean I’m his mate?!” Ten snapped.

“He means I’m attracted to you in a deeper way than just physically. My heart yearns for you. It has since I met you. Yes, I fell for you slowly, but a part of me always knew we would be together. A mate, to a wolf, is someone the wolf loves, the person the wolf is supposed to be with. Usually, it’s a love of another wolf, often an omega for an alpha so the omega can bare the alpha’s children, but there are some cases in which the person the wolf is mated with that is not a wolf.”

Ten didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed that his door opening or the tall figure standing in the doorway.

YangYang rolled off the side of Ten’s bed and, just as soon as his feet hit the floor, he was moving past Johnny, giving the male a side hug on the way out. Ten watched as the male left, a sudden anxiety settling in his stomach, an anxiety that only grew as Johnny closed the door.

Once the door was closed, Johnny’s lanky frame stood at the door for a moment too long before slowly moving closer to Ten’s bed. It felt like an eternity before his weight fell on the mattress as Johnny sat beside him.

“I think we need to talk,” Johnny spoke.

His voice was soft but deep and full of emotion that made Ten flinch.

“I think we do…” he muttered, dread filling his stomach as Johnny opened his mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny asked.

Ten let out a sigh before explaining his story. The truth about his past. The reason he is the way he is. His family’s reaction. Everything. And Johnny listened attentively, nodding along as Ten spoke, lips drawn into a line. And when Ten was finished, he had a tear or two dropping from his eyes, creating a salty trail down his cheek. He made no move to wipe them. Instead, Johnny moved off the bed and a tear fell faster. Maybe Johnny was leaving. Maybe he didn’t care for Ten’s reason. Maybe he didn’t care.

Before Ten could make himself even more upset than he already was, Johnny knelt onto the floor between Ten’s slightly opened legs and brought his large hands up to cup Ten’s cheeks. He brushed away the tears gently before leaning closer and pressing a kiss against the males forehead.

“I should have outright told you what I was too, but I didn’t. We were both wrong to hide it,” he spoke, his face still so close to Ten’s that Ten could feel his warm breath against his lips.

Ten nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid he’d break down and begin crying harder if he spoke.

“You are still my mate. Still my only one. And I’m not going to break that tie because of something as trivial as this. But please, you have to be honest with me. We have to be honest with each other.”

Again Ten nodded, but a few more tears spilled from his eyes. Johnny swiped them away gently, giving him a soft smile.

“I love you,” Johnny whispered.

Ten couldn’t hold himself together any longer. He collapsed into Johnny’s arms, Johnny’s strong embrace immediately caging him against his chest.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

Johnny nodded and pulled Ten tighter into his embrace, crushing him against his chest.

“And I wanna learn all about you,” Johnny’s voice whispered in his ear, making Ten shiver against him.

“I want to learn about you too,” he replied, voice coming out weak.

“Why don’t we start right now,” Johnny asked, voice dripping even lower, low enough that Ten’s body trembled and he found himself sliding further back onto the bed.

Johnny pulled his shirt over his head and crawled over the smaller male, giving him a dangerous smirk as he hovered over him, leaning down to kiss him with force.

“Let me show you everything about being an alpha,” he growled low.

Ten nodded pliantly, taking his bottom lips between his teeth before leaning up to press a kiss to Ten’s lips hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the room, YangYang and Donghyuck sat, two shot glasses pressed against the door and wall.

“Gross!” Donghyuck hissed, pretending to barf on the floor.

YangYang didn’t say anything, but the way his face was drawn into one of utter shock, horror, and disgust was enough to read his thoughts, yet somehow, he nor the boy beside him could seem to tear themselves away from the door.

“What are you two doing?” came the surprised but stern voice of a certain vampire who’d stumbled upon them.

“Kun-ge! Ten-ge and Johnny-ge are doing the dirty!” YangYang hissed quietly.

Kun stared at him dumbfounded by the sudden information.

“OH MY GOD!” Donghyuck suddenly shrieked in horror.

Kun was seconds from rushing to his side as YangYang listened closely to the glass to discern what had gotten a yelp from Donghyuck.

“He’s going to-” Kun slapped a hand over Donghyuck’s mouth before the sun kissed boy could speak another word.

“That’s enough, if you want a show, go rent a movie or borrow one of Yuta’s adult films,” Kun hissed warningly as he took the shot glass from Donghyuck and held his hand out for YangYang’s.

The younger boy stared at Kun before rolling his eyes and passing him the glass before getting off the floor and following Donghyuck in the direction of Yuta’s room.

Kun groaned to himself and stared at the door shaking his head. He had half a mind to breakup the love scene from inside until the rest of the house was asleep to avoid any youngsters hearing the noise and getting any ideas, but as loud mewls from Ten and howls from Johnny echoed from the room, Kun thought better of it. There was no way he’d want to see anything even closely akin to that.

Besides, at least they weren’t lying to each other anymore. At least they both knew the truth and loved one another for it.

#nct oneshot #johnten #supernatural #werewolf #witches #johnny suh #ten wayv #fanfiction #vampires #bxblove #series #qian manor series

22 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Text

Breathe

Pairing(s): Mark x Haechan

Synopsis: How much would it take for Haechan to break? How much more stress could his body take? He wished it could be over already. He longed for them just to leave him alone. Even for just a moment. His hopes continued to go unanswered. Two promotions. Two groups. Running around the company all night. No food. No sleep. How much longer would he last in these conditions. With Mark no longer in his shoes, things were even harder. His best friend could no longer be there when he felt the world was going to end from the weight piling up on his fragile shoulders. Mark knew more than Haechan realized, though. And he'd discover that even through the worst of circumstances, the boy was never out of reach.

Genre: fluff, angst, over-working, pain, friends to lovers

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Haechan gets hurts, overworking, pain

Music thumped loudly off the walls, rattling against the chests of the dancing boys fighting for breath as they moved. Sweat poured off foreheads like they were standing in a rainstorm. Heartbeats accelerated at the rapid movements.

Donghyuck’s face felt flushed as his body moved in sync with the other members, feet hitting the floor at all the right times, following the familiar steps to the song they’d been practicing for a while.

His chest heaved as he fought to breathe. His head throbbed painfully, pulsing rapidly as his movements continued without ease.

It wasn’t until the song began winding down that his foot slipped out from under him, skidding most likely on sweat that had dripped down someone’s face and pooled on the floor.

His body fell backwards, arms and legs flailing wildly in an attempt at catching himself somehow. His attempt proved to be in vain as his body toppled over onto someone, dragging them down and landing on top of them.

Donghyuck’s butt hit the floor hard, his back and head landing against a bony body that shifted beneath him.

The music stopped and several eyes turned to stare at the two on the floor.

Donghyuck’s face burned in embarrassment as he ducked down to hide in the other person's back.

“Can I get up now?”

Yuta’s voice vibrated against Donghyuck’s body, sending the younger male flying off of the elder, blushing and bowing, streaming out several apologies as he stood.

Yuta quickly stood as well, placing a hand on the maknae’s shoulder, giving it a soft pat.

“No harm, no foul.”

Donghyuck smiled, grateful he wasn’t about to get scolded. At least, he wasn’t about to get scolded by this hyung.

“What the hell happened?” The manager’s voice was shrill and angry, pudgy face flushed in anger, hard eyes boring holes into Donghyuck’s.

The manager was a middle aged man with deep set brown eyes, and rapidly graying hair. His cheeks were thick, skin rolled down his neck, and his massive stomach spilled over the sides of his too tight sweatpants. His arms jiggled when he moved them and the excess skin on his thighs moved with each step.

The younger bowed his head, tucking his chin against his chest and lowering his gaze to examine the contours of the floor.

“I spilled water. He slipped on it. It was my fault, not his,” Taeyong said immediately, moving to stand in front of the maknae.

Most would assume it was a move to put himself directly in front of the manager’s gaze. The boys knew it was a protective stance, daring the “evil” male to come closer to their precious maknae.

The male huffed and spun around, chub from his belly and thighs jiggling at the movements.

“Start again. From the top!” he ordered.

Exasperated grunts and sighs filled the room as the music began again and they moved to their positions to begin the dance again.

This time, it was halfway through when Donghyuck tripped, getting one foot tangled with the other, sending him flying down to the floor. Hitting his head on the floor did little to help his headache.

“Again!” the manager screamed out before biting down angrily on a chocolate bar.

Someone’s stomach rumbled loudly, although Donghyuck wasn’t sure who’s it was. It could have been anyone’s. None of them had eaten since breakfast and it was well past 11 pm now.

As the music began again, the males danced desperately, longing to get this over with a return home for showers, food, and rest.

Donghyuck’s headache slowed his movements.The pounding had intensified so much that he was surprised his eyes weren’t leaking blood from the pressure behind them.

The music finally ended. Jaehyun and Mark’s bodies hit the floor, backs pressed against the ground, hands over their eyes as the two panted.

The choreographer sighed.

“Ok, get out of here.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. All nine males quickly scurried from the room, door slamming behind Jungwoo, as all but one raced down the corridor headed to the parking lot where one of their managers was no doubt waiting in the car for them.

Donghyuck turned around and headed the opposite direction.

He stumbled down the hallway, passing closed doors as he traveled. When he reached a transparent door with a silver handle and the words “Recording Room” scrawled in matt black letters, he stopped and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

“Nice of you to join us.”

The manager’s voice was cold and unforgiving as his eyes bore into the younger accusingly.

“I’m sorry. Dance practice ran long.”

Donghyuck’s voice was weak and subdued. His head hung low, shoulders slumped, and knees bent. Anyone observing him could tell he didn’t need to be there. But it wasn’t in the company’s nature to care about the shape of the idols.

To SM, idols were like livestock. They were there to make the company money, treated with the least amount of respect, given just enough food to stay alive, and used the same way day in and day out.

“Whatever. You’re after Chenle. Wipe that sweat off your forehead and get ready. We’re going until everyone gets it right. You’ve all been slacking off lately. That stops now,” the managers voice was cold and hard.

Donghyuck nodded obediently and sat down on the plush velvet couch beside Jaemin and Jisung. He pulled a bottle of water off the table, uncapping it and chugging it rapidly, hoping the coolness would do something to soothe his aching head.

He placed the empty bottle on the table, his stomach churned at the feeling of something cold and mostly useless against the aching hunger he’d gotten so accustomed to feeling.

“What did you have for dinner? Manager-nim brought us pizza!” Jisung exclaimed happily.

Donghyuck let out a low moan at the food.

“That sounds delicious,” he said.

“Haechan! You’re up!”

Letting out another moan, this time full of exhaustion, he hauled himself off the couch, legs shaking and aching in protest as he pushed himself onward.

He slipped inside the glass booth that Chenle had just exited, coming to a stop in front of the microphone, headphones dangling from the neck of mic stand. He slid them over his ears and almost immediately, loud music to a song he hadn’t been able to practice much flooded his ears.

As he waited for his que to begin in a place he wasn’t sure he remembered the words to, his mind filled with Mark, and the thoughts he’d never be able to escape, even with the pounding behind his eyes.

If Mark were here, the elder would immediately take all the attention off of Donghyuck. They’d have come to practice on time and when the manager scolded them for being late, he’d say something that got it excused. Then he’d go first and let Donghyuck curl against his side for just a few moments to close his tired eyes.

Donghyuck would be taken care of. Mark wouldn’t have any problem telling someone that they hadn’t eaten. He’d always been able to get them just a little bit of rest before they went into the next thing.

He missed Mark. He missed the male that would run from one practice to the next with him. He missed the way Mark would hold his hand when he was homesick. He missed the way Mark would let him crawl in his bed when Donghyuck had a bad dream.

Sure, they still worked together with 127. But it was wasn’t the same. In Dream, Mark was the oldest. The leader. Their protector. In 127, he was another maknae being taken care of by the hyungs. They didn’t even share the same room anymore. Mark had requested to share a room with Johnny because the two were close and Johnny would let him stay up all night watching television. Donghyuck wasn’t a constant. He was often bouncing between the 127 dorm and the Dream dorm. He didn’t have a constant roommate. Just wherever he was staying. It was always between Renjun or Jaehyun. And neither were jumping at the opportunity to welcome someone in their bed in the middle of the night.

“KIM DONGHYUCK!”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Donghyuck shook his head from side to side, eyes wildly searching for whoever just yelled his name.

“You missed your que! What the hell is so important?” the manager hissed.

Donghyuck’s eyes threatened to fill with tears, though he rapidly blinked them back. He couldn’t look at the manager’s angry eyes anymore. Instead, traveling to the other members, all either staring at him or shaking their head in annoyance.

They wanted to leave as badly as he did. And he was holding them up.

“I’m sorry… I’ll do better,” he muttered, head bowed in shame.

The manager gave an exasperated sigh and started the music again.

This time, his eyes didn’t wander. They focused hard on the person in front of him at the recording keys. And when the manager cued him, he began singing flawlessly. Voice coming out velvety and perfect as he sang the chords he had apparently subconsciously memorized.

All would have been perfect. The smiles returned to the members faces and even the manager looked pleased. Until the throbbing intensified by ten, catching Donghyuck so off guard and in pain that he winced, his vocals shaking and chopping off at the last note.

“Again!”

He tried. He desperately tried to belt out his verses flawlessly. But it was apparently no use. Four more times repeating the song, and he couldn’t get the notes out perfectly. His head felt like someone was taking a hammer and pounding away at his skull, driving an ice pick through his brain. Tears filled his eyes, both in pain and exhaustion.

“Get out of here. All of you. Back here tomorrow at 7 am.”

Groans filled the room. Donghyuck carried himself from the recording booth, eyes downcast.

“Seriously Donghyuck. All you had to do was get it right and we wouldn’t have had to be here until 3 tomorrow afternoon!” Renjun scolded.

“Seriously! Can you not get a few simple lines right?” Jisung complained.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck mumbled.

“Yeah, you better be. Wasting our time like that,” Renjun retorted.

“Ok, that’s enough. He gets it. Let’s just go home and get what little sleep we can,” Jaemin sighed.

At least someone wasn’t going to poke holes in Donghyuck’s slowly crumbling resolve.

The ride back to the Dream dorm was a silent one. At least for Donghyuck. No one was willing to spare him a look or speak to him, too upset about losing the few hours of sleep they would have gotten. He was disappointed in himself. Tomorrow could have been a fairly easy day and he screwed that up.

Back at the dorm, everyone disappeared for showers or headed straight for bed, opting to shower in the morning. Donghyuck strayed around in the kitchen, shakily fumbling around for headache pills, downing two to drive off his headache. Once that was taken care of along with absorbing another bottle of water, he opened the refrigerator and picked through what little food he could find, opting on a handful of grapes and a small block of cheese.

He sat down on the couch in the sitting room, propping his feet up on the cushions and flicking on the television. He’d have to be up in three hours to go to an interview with 127, then vocals with Dream, dance practice with 127, then dance practice with Dream. He wouldn’t have time to shower in the morning and he wasn’t going to give the managers another reason to pick at him.

With Jaemin, Jeno, and Jisung all waiting for Chenle to emerge from the shower, Donghyuck would likely be waiting for an hour or two before he got the chance to shower, so he let his eyes trail back to the television, blindly attempting to focus on whatever uninteresting drama was on. The remains of his headache tugged at his eyelids, begging them to close over his burning eyes. Eventually, his eyelids won the battle, shutting for what was supposed to be a brief few seconds.

“Wake up! Donghyuck! Get your ass us!” Renjun’s voice yelled over him.

Letting out a groan, he opened his eyes, staring blearily up at the elder who had a phone pressed to his ear.

“Get dressed! You’re late for an interview with 127! I shouldn’t have to be up at such an ungodly hour to wake your ass up,” he hissed.

Donghyuck jolted, flying off the couch, stumbling a few times in his haste to put on something more appropriate for the interview.

Within ten minutes, he was out the door, calling Taeyong as he left.

“I’m sorry hyung. I overslept,” he mumbled.

“That’s why we’ve told you not to go hang out with the Dreamies when you know we have work the next day!”

“But-”

“Haechan! Let’s go!” the manager waiting by a car called, eyes bloodshot and irritable.

Hanging his head low, he hung up the phone and climbed into the car.

The ride to the interview hall was quiet and uneventful. Donghyuck didn’t dare ask for anything to eat to soothe the hunger residing in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t dare asking for anything to help the headache that was slowly ebbing back into his brain.

When they arrived at the building, he was ushered inside and quickly changed, pulling on tight jeans with holes traveling so far up his milky thighs and gaping so wide he practically wasn’t wearing anything. A tight black shirt was forced into the unbuttoned jeans, creased perfectly to prevent wrinkles in the shirt that concealed nothing to the imagination. As his pants were buckled, a black belt wound its way around his waist, tightly looping and fastening around his midsection he found it hard to breath. A jean jacket was tugged onto his arms, the sleeves much too tight, squeezing the skin beneath them, but making them look more “flattering.” The shoes were last, and this was his favorite part. His feet were nestled into soft leather boots, brown and flexible, the insides worn from the many times he’d sported this particular pair. His feet fit perfectly, comfortably inside them because there was no point squeezing the idols feet when so few people focused on feet anyways.

Once he was clothed, he was ushered to get his hair and makeup done. With all of the other members prepared, the team worked quickly to get him ready. This wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t already hate getting his hair prepped.

He had always hated this part. They were never gentle. Not as gentle as Mark or Taeyong were when they gently played with his hair of whatever color the company had demanded it be. The noona’s that often tugged brushes full of gels through their hair or styled it were quite the opposite, yanking and pulling their hair in a variety of directions. For Donghyuck, this was a brutal punishment for his tender head.

Today, the stylists were extra rough, yanking his hair seemingly twice as hard. Tears of pain threatened to spring to his eyes, but he fought them, afraid of what others would say if his makeup ran in streaks down his face.

After about ten minutes of torture, he was pushed from the chair and declared ready.

“Finally,” a few members muttered under their breath.

He didn’t miss the way the member’s seemed to avoid him, rolling their eyes and staring anywhere but in his general direction.

He could have begun crying at this, but the last thing he wanted was one more reason for them to hate him.

He pulled himself together, plastering his best fake smile on his face and staring down at the floor, head already beginning to hurt again, eyes stinging from exhaustion, and stomach growling from lack of nutrition.

They were instructed to wait as the show was being announced and the hosts did their introduction. He didn’t bother attempting to find anyone to stand next to like he usually did. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to lovingly cling to any of them. Not to mention, he’d likely have been rejected. He didn’t deserve their love anyways. He was never enough for them. He didn’t understand why SM had decided to put him in both groups. He was no good for 127. Mark should have been the maknae. Then it would all be smooth.

Tears flitted to his eyes, threatening to spill over. He refused to let them, holding the bridge up with all his might.

A hand slipped in his, causing him to jump in shock, eyes flying to whoever the person was.

“It’s ok. Take a deep breath, close your eyes for just a second. Clear your head and just breathe. You’re ok,” Mark’s soothing voice whispered near his ear.

The tension in his shoulders almost immediately relaxed. He sucked in a deep breath, the belt loosening slightly from the relaxed muscles, his chest felt less tight, and his head felt less clouded.

He pushed the air out of his lungs, allowing it to carry his weight with it until he was left with a feeling of weightlessness.

Mark squeezed his hand gently before letting go completely, an action that made Donghyuck’s stomach sink, although he knew it was because the interview was about to start.

Throughout the interview, Mark was beside him. For the first time in a few weeks, Donghyuck didn’t feel lost or hopeless.

After the interview, all of the members piled into one car. Most of them dozed off as they were transported back to the dorm until their dance practice later that day. The van stopped outside of the SM building, letting Donghyuck out before speeding off.

Donghyuck let out a sigh as he stepped inside the building, still clad in the clothing he’d worn for the interview, the belt cutting into the soft flesh of his belly.

He made his way down the familiar hallway, pushing open the same glass door and stepping inside, meeting a sleepy glare from Renjun almost immediately.

Well… that was painful.

“Think you can get it right today?” he all but hissed.

Donghyuck gulped, suddenly very aware of his inability to perform properly from stress and exhaustion, which, in all honesty, was no excuse, at least, not an acceptable one.

“Let’s just get started. Haechan first,” the manager said gruffly.

Donghyuck nodded, aware of the other members staring at his back as he walked through the door to the booth.

He put the headphones back over his ears, much too loud music immediately hitting him, causing him to jump in shock, stumbling and falling onto the ground, yanking the headphone cord out of the sound system as he fell.

As soon as he’d seen the damage, he knew he was in for it. He prolonged sitting up, eyes squeezing shut in frustration.

The door to the booth flew open and hands were flying to Donghyuck’s shirt, hoisting his upper half off the floor as the stoney face of their manager glared at him.

He was standing over the younger, legs spread on either side of Donghyuck’s legs. A large hand was fisted in the tight black shirt, stretching the tight material that slid painfully across the youngers neck. His eyes were dark and full of anger and hatred, face morphed into a mixture between cold stone and a rabid dog. He was practically foaming at the mouth.

“You worthless piece of shit. Are you kidding me?! All you have done these last few days is screw stuff up!” he hissed, face getting so close to Donghyuck’s that the younger could smell his putrid breath.

“You will get your ass to the practice room and if I so much as see a toe out of place, I’ll hit you so hard your skin will split from the impact!”

Donghyuck trembled. The male released his grip on Donghyuck’s shirt and moved away, one of his boots making brief contact with the area right behind the youngers ribs, sending a sharp pain up his spin. It would definitely bruise.

It took a few moments before Donghyuck was able to pull himself off the floor, head returned to pounding now, beating inside his ears and hammering in his skull. His side throbbed from the kick and he began to wonder just how much force was behind it.

“LET’S GO DONGHYUCK!”

The scream sent Donghyuck running, pulling himself up completely and running from the room and down the hall to the Dream practice room.

Barreling through the door, he halted, out of breath, but too afraid to say otherwise. Any mistake now could result in the manager making good on his promise.

“Positions!”

This was the same pudgy manager that led the 127 dance practice.

The boys scrambled for their positions just as the music was beginning. They moved flawlessly to the beat, keeping the pace and finishing the song perfectly.

“Donghyuck!”

What?! He’d danced right! He’d forced his feet to obey! He’d done it right!

“Your feet are too close to Jeno’s! Try again!”

Groans were sent in his direction as the music began again, dancing through the entire song again, despite their heavy breathing and sweaty foreheads.

They repeated the same song three times now, each time the choreographer nitpicking at Donghyuck and the members were forced to go through with it again.

“Get it right Haechan!” Chenle’s shrill voice screamed, causing the elder to flinch.

“I’m sorry…”

He could have cried if his body hadn’t long since stopped producing tears. Sweat refused to condensate from his roasting forehead or saliva refusing to moisturize his tongue.

“Just get out. Tomorrow, I expect everyone to be flawless!”

That should have been the end of it. The others would be heading back to their dorm to catch up on sleep, play video games, eat whatever food the manager had bought for them.

Donghyuck wouldn’t go. He would stick around for the 127 members to begin their practice. He’d get to see their disappointed stares directed at him. On the bright side, it also meant he’d get to see Mark. Mark was on his side. Mark would protect him.

His heartbeat accelerated. Mark would take care of him.

The door to the practice room opened and Mark walked through.

His forehead was beaded in a few droplets of sweat and his shirt was pulled out from his body, hands clutching the bottom of the shirt, bringing it up to make a makeshift basket full of whatever he was carrying. The bottom of his stomach was exposed, pale skin contrasting against dark jeans.

He stopped in front of the younger male, a bright smile immediately lighting up his face.

“I brought you something,” he huffed.

Donghyuck gave him a confused glance. It was obvious that the elder had ran from wherever he was and it was apparently to give him something.

Mark gestured to his shirt and Donghyuck peered over, finding two large multigrain muffins, a bagel, and half a baguette.

“What-?”

“I know you probably didn’t get a chance to eat this morning and you looked a little pale,” Mark responded, the smile never leaving his lips that gleamed in the fluorescent lights.

Mark Lee boy that Donghyuck had been crushing on since they were trainees, had brought him food.

Donghyuck’s heart hammered in his chest, eyes glassing over with tears he wouldn’t dare to shed.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He reached into the shirt, plucking out a muffin and taking a large bite off the top, practically moaning as the taste hit his tongue, loving the feeling the grain made as it slid down his throat and into his empty stomach.

The door flew open, Jaehyun and Johnny walking in, both jumping around, Johnny reaching over to pinch Jaehyun’s arm and Jaehyun retaliating with a slap to Johnny’s arm.

“Just breathe. Practice will go by in a flash and then we’ll all be back at the dorm filling up on whatever we convince Doyoung to make,” he said.

Donghyuck gave him a small smile, taking another large bite of the muffin before following Mark to the couch pressed against the far side of the wall. Mark piled the smuggled food on the cushions, pulling Taeyong’s discarded hoodie over the stash to hide.

Their normal choreographer walked in. He was much younger than the pudgy one that filled in. He was thin as a rail, hips protruding out from the skin tight athletic pants he was wearing. A black tank top pulled over his upper half. He had shaggy black hair and a thin, wiry mustache slinking beneath his nose.

“Positions!”

His voice was sharp and shrill. Every annunciation dripped with venom. He was angry today. Something had made him mad. And Donghyuck was his favorite punching bag.

As everyone filled in, most dressed in loose jeans or sweats, sweatshirts to fight off the bitter cold outside, they made their way to their starting positions, staring at the choreographer expectantly.

The music began and bodies immediately began moving in sync from the memorized movements to follow their recorded voices.

When Donghyuck’s part played, he danced his way to the front of the line, alternating from one side to the next and continuing with the hand movements.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Throughout his solo, he’d gotten it right. The mirror reflected the exact moves and angles.

Things were starting to look up. Maybe Mark was just his good luck charm. The one person that could make everything perfect.

Donghyuck moved back into the throngs of dancing bodies, but his mind was too muddled with glee he forgot to take two steps to the left, instead moving to the right and slammed into Jungwoo, knocking the elder to the ground.

“Ouch,” Jungwoo’s soft voice cried, rubbing the arm he landed on as he sat up.

The rest of the members surrounded the injured angel, checking him over for injuries before helping him off the ground.

“You go left! Not right! I thought we’d drilled that in before! Or were you too caught up thinking about your little boyfriend?!” the choreographer’s voice was sharp and evil, eyes boring holes into the males.

Donghyuck shrunk under her gaze, chin tucking against his chest, eyes lowered to the floor, heart beating erratically at the call out.

“Accidents happen,” Mark said, wrapping arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders.

This only made the youngers face burn bright.

The choreographer scoffed and started the music over.

Together, the members nearly flawlessly began dancing to the song, only stepping out of line a few times, but every time someone did mess up, even slightly, Donghyuck was called out for it. Even on the times that weren’t his fault.

Faster than it should have, Donghyuck’s stomach emptied. All of the energy restored by the few bites of muffin had evaporated, turned into sweat or a tiny bit of energy. Now he was left breathless. Chest heaving as they ran through the dance four, five, then six times. His head pounded, pulsing so hard there wasn’t a place to pinpoint the pain. His eyes stung, although he wasn’t sure why. The sweat had long since dried, leaving him feeling as if he were baking in a furnace.

“Again Donghyuck! Can’t you get it right!” the choreographer screamed.

The music began again.

Donghyuck could barely lift his arms. His legs felt like jelly. The pounding in his head only got worse as he danced through the song, several steps behind the rest of the members.

“Lee Donghyuck!” he yelled again.

“Leave him alone!” Mark screamed back.

The room fell silent with the exception of the music still blaring. Everyone turned to stare at Mark and then back at the choreographer, who was now practically foaming at the mouth.

“So… tired,” the mutter left Donghyuck’s mouth almost inaudibly as the male swayed from side to side.

“Hyuck!”

Johnny’s arm quickly wrapped around Donghyuck’s middle, holding him steady as Donghyuck’s legs gave out, his body falling limp, eyes shut, consciousness fading.

“Seriously? Drama Queen,” the choreographer muttered.

“You listen here-” Mark began.

Jaehyun’s arms locked around Mark’s waist, dragging the younger back, fighting against him as he struggled.

“Calm down! You can’t fight here!” he hissed.

This didn’t stop Mark from kicking at Jaehyun’s legs and elbowing his chest over and over.

“Stop. He’s going to be fine! Doyoung and Manager Jun are taking him home!” Taeyong said, placing his hands on Mark’s shoulders and staring intently at his face.

It took a moment for Mark to stop struggling. He eventually did, settling down in Jaehyun’s tight embrace as two more managers ran in.

“What the hell happened?” one asked, staring around the room in shock and confusion.

“You happened. All of you,” Mark glared.

Eventually, one of the managers drove them back to the dorm. As soon as they walked inside, most went off to their own rooms. Mark made his way into the room Donghyuck usually slept in, finding Jeno and Jaemin, both perched on Jaehyun’s bed.

“How is he?” Mark asked quietly.

Donghyuck lay curled up in a ball, knees tucked against his belly, head resting against his pillow, soft sighs leaving his lips. Someone had changed him into thin pajamas, small teddy bears on the gray pants and a gray shirt with a teddy bear on the pocket.

“He’s been sleeping for a while… He looks so small…” Jeno muttered.

Mark sat on the bed next to Donghyuck, tracing a hand from the youngers knee to his ankle, then back up.

“We were so mean to him…”

Jeno wrapped an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“He’ll understand. We just need to get better at making sure he’s not too stressed or tired. He works harder than any of us and all we do is worry about ourselves,” Jeno muttered.

Jaemin nodded, leaning against Jeno’s shoulder before sliding off the bed.

“By the way, Mark. Donghyuck’s been crushing on you since we were trainees. We know you feel the same. So grow a pair and ask him out,” he said.

With that, he opened the bedroom door and strolled out, leaving a shocked Mark and a dumbfounded Jeno.

“He likes me?”

Jeno stared at Mark as if the other had suddenly groan another head.

“You seriously didn’t know?” Jeno stood up, shaking his head. “Why else would he be glued to you. He’s clingy with everyone but extra clingy with you.”

He strolled out of the room, leaving behind a confused Mark, still lightly stroking from Donghyuck’s knee to his ankle.

He turned his attention to gaze at the smaller, eyes trailing over the beautifully tan face that looked so peaceful. He looked so small and fragile, like a duckling that desperately needed someone to protect him.

“I’ve liked you too. I didn’t realize until last year, but I like you too,” he whispered.

He knew the other couldn’t hear him. He took solstice in that fact. He could tell Donghyuck how much he loved him and the younger would never know. So he may as well enjoy this while he had time with the male.

He lowered himself down next to Donghyuck, arm wrapping around his waist and hoisting himself up slightly with the other arm. He leaned closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Donghyuck’s cheek.

He settled down behind the other, chest pressed against the younger’s back, arm holding him close.

Mark’s eyes fell closed, face nestling into the youngers neck.

“I’m glad you feel the same.”

The sudden, whispered response practically made Mark fall off the bed, shock coursing through his body.

“I didn’t know you were awake…”

Donghyuck rolled over carefully until he was facing the male.

“I’m glad I was,” he whispered.

The smaller nuzzled closer to Mark, lips pressing against jaw.

He felt Mark heave a sigh against him, arms tightening around the younger, Donghyuck’s legs slowly edging in between the elders.

“Are you going to ask me out or are we going to go back to both being confused?”

A kiss pressed against Donghyuck’s forehead, lips traveling lower, pressing chaste, barely there kisses down his nose, over his cheeks, down his jaw, up to his chin, and finally finding a home on his lips.

“Will you be mine?” lips brushed together as the words ghosted over them.

“Yes,” Donghyuck whispered back, closing the distance once again.

Lips pressed together in such gentleness one would have thought both boys were fragile vases, just one too harsh movement would have either one or both shattering. The reality was, they were both dented and cracked, both wielding battle scars, mental and physical.

They weren’t perfect. But as two hearts pounded in two chests, breath mingling together, they would be ok. Stress would happen. But with each other, it was one good thing in all the bad.

#nct dream #nct #nct fanfic #nct mark #nct haechan #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #happy ending #annoyed members #overworking #poor haechan #sad haechan #friends to lovers

42 notes · View notes

nominnation · 3 years

Text

Shard of Broken Things

Author's Note: This has been posted on NCT Amino and a03. It was made specifically for NCT Amino with the Writing Club as we make our way writing fics for every member of NCT.

Pairing(s): Renjun x Jaemin

Genre: angst, slight fluff, supernatural

Warnings: major character death, crime, insanity, minor blood

Hwang Renjun trailed his eyes over the body of the male laced in black garments, lying face first in the mud-caked asphalt, money and identification long plucked from the confines of his leather wallet.

Renjun rubbed his brow in frustration before carefully nudging the body of the male over, mentally choking when he realized how young he was. The male was no older than 25, long, dingy brown hair matted in clumps, obviously someone who had been homeless or had been held captive for a long time. He knelt down and brought his gloved hand up to push back the hood, searching for something he hoped wasn’t there. His hopes weren’t answered as his eyes zeroed in on the very familiar signature markings. “Well?” Detective Lee Jeno asked from his place by the garbage bins, evidence camera hanging loosely around his neck. “Call Chief Qian. We’ve got another,” he replied before stepping away, letting the coroner step forward to bag the body. Jeno shook his head with a drawn out sigh and pulled the phone from his police issued jacket, only pressing one button before raising it to his ear. “Bite marks on this one too,” he spoke into the speaker. Whatever was said on the other side was inaudible as Renjun passed his partner to slide into the passenger side of the black SUV.

~ Shiny black shoes silently hit the cobblestone floor as the owner led them down the narrow hallway, lit by fire lanterns along the windowless hall. When the torches came to an end, they were replaced with a metal winding staircase that creaked with every step, leading up to a heavy black door, beams of yellow light creeping around the creases. Pulling on the cold metal handle, he opened the door without so much as a groan at the weight before slipping inside, pulling the door closed. “You’re late!” an annoying “sing-song” voice greeted him. “Put a sock in it,” Jaemin muttered grumpily, kicking off his shoes off by the door. “Where’s Boss?” he asked, not looking at the younger male, hands plunged into elbow-high soapy water. “I think he’s in the office with Doyoung,” the male said, looking back down at the water as he pulled up a white ceramic plate, placing it in the dish drainer. Jaemin gave a nod and headed toward the open kitchen door before the younger at the sink called out to him. “Tell Tae that we need a dishwasher! I’m tired of doing it by hand!” Jaemin shook his head, a smile finding its way to his red lips. “That’s kinda the whole point of probation chores, Hyuck,” the male said, strolling out of the room, sock feet meeting laminated hardwood. He walked through the mostly unused sitting room and up another, narrower set of stairs, three stories high, getting off at the second story. A long hallway covered in white tile greeted him as he rounded the bend. He strolled down the hall, nose picking up strong whiffs of mold and Doyoung’s poisonous musk. The office, Taeyong’s office to be precise, resided at the end of the long hall, 10 doors down from the stairs. Jaemin brought a fist up to rap on the bullet proof, metal encased door, when said door swung open, a tearful Chenle walking out. Jaemin shot him a confused glance but dared not utter a word as the smaller male rushed from the door, nearly slipping on the tile as he hurried to the end of the hall for the stairs, most likely to the comfort of his room a floor below. Jaemin pushed through the half ajar door, letting it close with a heavy clang behind him as his eyes habitually squinted in the dark room, only lit by a single lamp, highlighting two shadowy faces that Jaemin didn’t need to see to know they were there. “Did you complete the task?” “Yes. He’s been taken care of,” he responded cooly. “Where?” “The alley of 5th street.” “Isn’t that where you dumped the last one?” Doyoung chimed in. Jaemin rolled his eyes, meeting Doyoung’s honey brown ones briefly before nodding. “It’s the closest to the dumpsters! Easiest place to put them!” Taeyong’s lips pursed at the comment before tapping a pen on the mahogany desk. “If you’re not careful, you’ll lead them right to us!” Doyoung hissed. Jaemin tried to make it seem like the words didn’t affect him, but the truth was, the thought of leading the police back to him, back to them, was not a thought that had crossed his mind before. The realization hit him in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t see all that well in the poorly lit room, but the inhale from Doyoung meant he wasn’t finished and he was getting ready to cut into Jaemin’s resolve once more when Taeyong raised his hand. “That’s enough.” His voice soft like honey, but held such command that Jaemin’s eyes met the floor and Doyoung’s mouth snapped closed. “Jaemin is a new recruit. He cannot be expected to know these things without being told,” he began. Doyoung scoffed, but the sharp look Taeyong sent his way had him hurriedly shutting up. “With that said, Jaemin, you may continue feasting, but when it is time to get rid of your meal, someone will escort you until you learn the ways of disposing,” he said. His tone was sharp and hard, digging into Jaemin’s resolve even more, because it wasn’t what he said that hurt, it was how he said it. Jaemin gave a curt nod, clasping his hands in front of him stiffly. Taeyong’s eyes flicked to him and then back down to the stack of papers in front of him. Reading glasses perched on his

nose where he’d eyed the scribbles and curved writing on the paper that oddly resembled a map. With a simple flick of his hand, Jaemin’s stomach dropped to his toes, scrambling for the door anxiously, throwing it open and hurriedly bounding into the hall. He didn’t realize until he got there, that his chest felt odd. A dull aching feeling that he faintly recalled from his earlier years. As the door slammed behind him, he pressed his back against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief before staggering his way back down the hall, heading to the staircase. As he trudged, it didn’t occur to him that someone was likely going to be watching his every move, sticking with him like glue, and assisting on every dumpsite to criticize whatever he’s doing wrong. It also didn’t occur to him to think about who that person would be. There were only a handful of people living in this house, that would be able to assist. And there was no likely way that Taeyong would select someone from a different house unit to come live here just so Jaemin had a partner. As he made his way back into his room, he flopped on the massive King sized bed, flawlessly made up in the perfectly organized room. Who would they send with him? It couldn’t be Donghyuck or Chenle. Both were too young and Chenle was still a probationary member. Taeyong and Doyoung were both far too busy to deal with something so miniscule. Mark wouldn’t be any better than Jaemin himself at disposing of a body. Hendery was far too busy capturing the “prey” to be of any assistance. As he ticked them off in his head, his stomach churned and his brow creased, a habit from the days when he’d once sweat. That left only two possible options. And neither of them were desirable. Nakamoto Yuta, otherwise known as Prince, or Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, also known as the Ten of Spades. There was no lesser of two evils. No better choice. Both were equally rotten. He was trapped between a perverted asshole who had more in common with Jaemin than he’d like to admit, and a crazy, combat thirsty devil with a dark sense of humor. His goose was well and truly cooked. ~ Jaemin’s fate wasn’t revealed until later that night. An unknown number popped up on his phone and his stomach tightened. They never gave out their cellphone numbers. And only a unit knew everyone’s real names. This unknown number was most certainly his new “partner.” He hesitated in answering the call for just a moment before, letting out a sigh, he pressed the green answer key and pressed the device to his ear. “Meet me in the catacombs.” With one instruction, the call ended, and Jaemin’s heart would have been beating impossibly fast, but all he received was another dull ache that slowly got stronger. That could have been anyone. The voice was too indistinguishable. Driven by curiosity or the ferocity of receiving an order, he slid out of bed and strolled across the hardwood floor, slipping his feet into soft leather black boots that flexed with his movements. He grabbed a small jacket from his closet, not because he was cold, but because normal people would wear jackets this time of year, and headed for the door, pain in his chest intensifying as he walked down three flights of stairs and headed through the kitchen where Mark and Donghyuck stood, glowering at the nearly broken microwave. He opened the heavy black door he’d come out of earlier and slid himself onto the creaking metal steps. The door slammed behind him as he slowly made his way down the steps, invisible pulse accelerating now as he awaited to see who this impossible partner would be. As he reached the bottom, he expected to see the silhouette of someone, but was met with only the familiar musty air that tickled the back of his throat as he breathed in. His boots silently swept across the dusty concrete as trekked down the hall of the century old tomb beneath the frontfort mansion. It didn’t take him long to locate the shape of someone’s shadow bouncing off the rocky walls by the glowing torch light. As the shadow came into view, at first

he was confused. This was neither of the men he feared, but as he got closer, a shock ran down his spine, and he had half a mind to turn the other way. He’d been wrong. There was a worse one out of his two options. And he’d gotten the worse of the two. Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul stood alert in the middle of the tomb hallway, back to Jaemin as he studied the curvature featured along the ancient pebbles creating the wall. The pain in Jaemin’s chest grew less of a dull ache and now to full blown panic as his feet drew him closer, half hoping his silent footsteps would creep up on the other, giving him an advantage. There was no advantage when the Ten of Spades was involved. “Look who finally decided to show up!” his lips curved into a sinister smirk as he spun around to face the younger. Jaemin tried not to look startled, and failed miserably if the other’s laugh was anything to go by. “For a Bloodsucker, you sure do startle easily,” he cackled. Jaemin could feel his face burn in embarrassment, the stoniness of his cheeks rippling at the pressure, a side effect from not actually being able to blush. The other’s laughter quieted finally with a shake of his head, returning back to his normal posture. The Ten of Spades was a small, thin male that was often underestimated for his height. He looked like a tiny, frail boy that was no more than a damsel. Common belief was totally incorrect. He may have been a full head shorter than Jaemin, but he could take down a typical, full grown body guard with a few swift moves. In fact, he had. He was a master at fighting, always able to locate someone’s weak spots even before they knew what they were. “Are you going to stare all day? Or are we going to get started?” he asked. Jaemin shook his head. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring. “Started on what?” he asked. Ten shook his head with a dark laugh. “Romeo brought someone else back. He’s being held in the usual place,” he said. Romeo, or as everyone else knew him, Hendery, was the units drug dealer. Except his job didn’t stop there. He was also the main man to capture and bring back individuals for Jaemin, or occasionally Yuta, to feast on. Usually, it was people who couldn’t or refused to pay for their product. Rarely was it a random civilian that had simply seen too much. Ten led them further down the tunnel, down the same cobblestone stairs he’d seen dozens of times and down into the creeping darkness that would lead to the dungeons. The brass cage door came into Jaemin’s view first, before his eyes landed on a male of about 30 or so, overweight, in ripped, bagging clothes with a trail of blood dripping down his arm. “Help me… please,” he muttered hoarsely, brown eyes filled with hope. Ten stared at him, features turning soft as he gently reached a hand in to grasp the man’s hand. Jaemin could hear the man’s heartbeat slowing as he calmed, relaxing as he finally had someone to rescue him. Or so he thought. Sharp nails dug into the chubby skin of the males arm, drawing blood to the surface in the tight grip, the male crying out at the pain as Ten’s sweet smile turned wicked. “Only death with help you now,” he hissed. Jaemin felt the familiar gnawing in the pit of his stomach as the back of his throat burned in thirst. Ten turned to look at him, giving him a wink before opening the cage door. Jaemin threw off the jacket he’d been wearing, having no desire to get stains on it. He crouched down low enough to step through the door, eyes meeting the flesh of the male before traveling up to his eyes. He was terrified. Jaemin’s eyes flashed bright red as he moved closer until he was crouched right beside the male, the delicious smell of warm blood filling his nostrils, making his stomach groan in want. “Type O. My favorite,” his voice came out as a raspy hiss. The male trembled in fright as Jaemin moved closer, placing his now parted lips on the males neck, two sharp teeth piercing the tender flesh, shooting straight into his artery. A loud, bellowing scream ripped from the males lips as he writhed and

struggled, held down by Jaemin’s iron grip as the hungry male swiftly guzzled his meal. ~ Jaemin wiped his mouth on his arm, letting the lifeless body drop to the floor as he stood up and turned around to find Ten staring at him. “Did you even leave a drop?” he asked, voice laced with humor. Jaemin shrugged in response and easily lifted the drained male, throwing the body over his shoulder and stepping out of the cage. “So are we going to go dump this thing now?” he asked. Ten gave a little chuckle somewhere between a squeak and a bellow, and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.” With that, the two made their way back up the tunnel hall they’d strolled down. “So when you drink from Haechan or Mark, what stops you from draining them like you did him?” Ten asked. Jaemin shot him a look. Since when did they have casual conversation? “Um… Well Yuta is usually there if I go too far. Not to mention, they’re some of my best friends. I keep that in mind and only drink a bit,” he said. Ten gave a humph and led them to the end of the hallway, to another black metal door. He pushed it open and stepped out first, holding the door open for the younger. When Jaemin stepped out, he was met with the blackness of the night in a back alley between the local Chinese restaurant and the Japanese manga store. Both owned and operated by members of their unit. “Now, if I weren’t with you, where would you put the body?” Ten asked. Jaemin looked around as he thought. “Maybe on 6th?” he asked, pointing with his free hand in that general direction. Ten clicked his tongue in disapproval. “And then you’re leaving bread crumbs for those stupid cops to follow,” he proclaimed. Jaemin looked down in embarrassment. He didn’t mind the killing. He didn’t mind the torture he knew some of the captives endured. He didn’t mind sleeping over an old tomb. He didn’t even mind disposing of the bodies. He just wasn’t good at it. “Come with me.” Jaemin didn’t object. He swiftly followed behind the lithe form of the smaller male, gracefully walking without a sound. “Now since you’ve been leaving bread crumbs, where do think would be the most obsolete place to dump the body without leaving a trail?” he asked. Jaemin had no idea. Up until that afternoon, he was led to believe that everything was fine with his technique, and now everything was skewed. “How about somewhere near the police station?” Ten said, a wicked glint in his eyes. Jaemin’s eyes widened. “That’s too dangerous!” he gaped. Ten shook his head and began leading the way in the opposite direction, careful to stay in the shadows of the alleys so as not to draw any attention to the boys carrying a large body. The police station was three streets over and would almost certainly be crawling with night guards, although most of them were usually alert until about 2 am. Then they’d be snoozing when they thought no one was watching or lurking. This time of night though, they’d all be wide awake, at least for another hour. And Ten seemed to think that that made the job exciting. One thing was for sure, though, Jaemin did not find this exciting. Not even a little bit. When they finally reached the back alley across the street from the police station, Jaemin could practically feel the nerves crawling over his skin. “Why do we have to do this?” he asked, voice trembling. Ten rolled his eyes and shoved Jaemin slightly, making the younger glare at him. “Relax! It’s not like we’re marching him up the steps of the station. We’re dropping him in the dumpster!” Jaemin’s eyes zeroed in on the dumpster. It was right near the entrance of the alley. Barely concealed by the shadows of the alley and the night. “No! I can’t do it!” Ten huffed and pushed Jaemin forward. “Throw it in the dumpster and run if you’re that scared!” he whispered sternly. Jaemin found his footing quickly and crept forward. He didn’t like this, but Ten would never let it go if he didn’t do this. Not to mention what Doyoung or Taeyong would do to him if he couldn’t succeed. As he got closer, he could feel the hairs on the back

of his neck stand up. He kept his eyes trained on the police station, hoping no one would see him creeping around in the dark. Taking cautious steps, he slowly raised the metal lid. Once it was open wide enough, he used all of his strength to maneuver the body off of his shoulder and down into the metal bin. As soon as the body hit the trash below, he let the lid fall, wincing as it gave a loud clang, no doubt getting the attention of all of the officers roaming the street. He wasted no more time and turned back toward the direction they’d come from and bolted as fast as his legs would carry him, not even caring if Ten could keep up or not. Jaemin let out a small groan as the phone near his head continuously buzzed, demanding attention. He rolled over, swatting around the mattress and sheets before finding the phone, answering the call without bothering to look at the caller id. It was probably an unknown number anyways. To his surprise, a familiar voice greeted him on the other side, causing him to shoot up in the bed. “Renjun?!” he asked in complete disbelief at hearing from his high school best friend again after three years. “Hey Nana, how are you?” he asked. Jaemin felt his insides turn mushy at the voice. “I’m good Renjunnie! How are you?” He heard a small laugh on the other side of the speaker. “I’m wondering if you will meet me in an hour at our favorite coffee shop. I miss you,” he said. Jaemin felt the same dull ache as the night before fill him, but this time, it was pleasant. “Ok! I’ll see you soon!” With that, the two hung up. A smile stitched itself across Jaemin’s face as he toppled out of bed, excited jitters flowing off of him as he pulled open various doors, pulling out a pair of jeans and a nice green shirt for this outing. He slid into a pair of black Vans and was out the door as soon as he could be. He bounded down the stairs with such an excited energy he was practically radiating it. “What’s got you so jittery this morning?” Donghyuck asked as Jaemin pranced into the kitchen. Jaemin couldn’t fight the smile on his face. “Renjunnie called! I’m going to meet him at the cafe!” he cheered. Donghyuck’s amused face fell. “But you haven’t seen him since… you know… the change,” he said, gesturing with his hands. Jaemin’s face fell. He hadn’t thought about that. Both boys had gone to high school together, along with Donghyuck, Mark and Chenle amongst others. Renjun and Jaemin had been stuck together practically all through high school. They never did anything unless the other was close behind. Both made good grades and stayed out of the limelight as much as possible. Keeping their heads down and never getting into trouble. After high school, Renjun had gone off to school and Jaemin had stayed behind, unable to afford the luxuries of further schooling. He was happy in the mafia. Happy with how his life had turned out. He had food and friends and shelter. But then there was the minor complication of his… new self. The one Renjun didn’t know and most likely wouldn’t approve of. Just like everyone else. Jaemin took a deep, unneeded breath and shrugged. “I don’t care,” he said coolly, strolling out the door. Upon arriving at the cafe, he strolled inside, hoping to seem as nonchalant as he possibly could. He spotted Renjun sitting at a booth near the back, dressed perfectly professionally in a tan button down shirt and tan pants that looked eerily familiar. Jaemin was gleeful as he got closer, plopping down in the booth across from his friend and giving him a wide smile that Renjun returned. “I ordered your favorite!” Renjun beamed. Jaemin’s face fell. How was he supposed to explain that his high school best friend that he no longer drank the coffee he drank every day for four years? How would the male ever understand without knowing the truth? Maybe this was a bad idea. “I um… I actually don’t drink coffee anymore,” he muttered. Renjun gave him a questioning look, a cover for the slight hurt that crossed his features. He’d tried to wash it away but Jaemin could still see

it. Well that came out of nowhere. “Um… just down the street. I have a few roommates,” he said, not telling a complete lie. Renjun nodded and hummed as he tapped his fingers on the table. “What have you been up to since high school?” he asked. Jaemin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It wasn’t like Renjun to ask him questions like that. “Well, I’ve had a few jobs here and there,” he said. Renjun nodded and tapped on the plastic coffee in front of him. “What about you? What have you been doing since high school?” Jaemin asked. Renjun gave him an inquisitive look, glancing down at his own attire as if it should have been obvious. And it was. If Jaemin had been paying attention. The badge on his shirt was a dead giveaway, and Jaemin hadn’t seen it. “Oh… I see… That’s awesome!” he exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. “Actually, my job is why I wanted to meet with you,” he began. The pain in Jaemin’s chest intensified. Why else would he want to talk to him as a police officer if he hadn’t done anything wrong. Suddenly flashes of the night before filled his mind. What if they’d seen him? It was dark, but what if they’d seen him throw away the body? “We found a body in a trash bin last night. Probably 30 or so.” Here it comes! Renjun would surely be crucified now! “Whoever is doing this apparently is a vampire, judging by the saliva we’ve gotten off the bodies.” He froze in his seat. They had his saliva! “This person seems to have a thing for young people. So please, try to be careful. I don’t want to find my high school crush in the trash.” A load removed itself from Jaemin’s chest. They didn’t know it was him. But they would have to be more careful. Wait. Did he just say- “You had a crush on me?” A blush found its way up to Renjun’s cheeks, the once sturdy male now looking like the shy boy Jaemin remembered from early high school. [C] “Had is a little untrue… I have a crush on you,” he said, muttering the last bit. Jaemin’s eyes widened. All this time he’d been pining after Renjun, and now, he finds out after the horrible accident that Renjun had been pining after him too! “I kinda still have a crush on you too…” he said. Had he had the ability, he would have been blushing too. Renjun’s eyes lit up. “So maybe you’d like to go on a date sometime?” Renjun asked. Jaemin looked around the restaurant, eyebrows creasing. “Aren’t we on a date right now?” he asked. Renjun grinned. “If we were, I certainly wouldn’t be in my work clothes. And we’d be doing something a little classier than getting coffee.” Jaemin fiddled with his thumbs beneath the table, a shy smile worked its way onto his lips. “You’ve changed a lot, you know,” Renjun commented. Jaemin glanced up at at Renjun. “What do you mean? I haven’t changed.” The male across from him let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “A few years ago, if I had said a comment like that, your face would have been as red as a tomato.” So Renjun did remember. And if he wasn’t careful, the male would piece together just how different he was. Once Jaemin opened the big heavy door from the tunnels into the house, he was almost immediately bombarded by questions. “Why would you go out like that?!” “What did you do?!” “Does he know anything?!” “Why the meeting?!” Jaemin brushed them off as best he could, opting to walk past the questions and out of the kitchen, until of course, a small, but firm arm grabbed his elbow, tugging him back into the kitchen. “Jaemin’s friend is a cop,” Ten’s voice snarled. Jaemin’s knees locked in shock and surprise. “How do you-?” “I followed you. Now I understand why you didn’t want to dump the body near the station! You didn’t want your boyfriend to see you!” Jaemin shook his head rapidly. “No! I didn’t even know-” “Maybe Jaemin’s working for them!” Jaemin’s body shook. Why would anyone accuse him for that?! Let alone, Chenle! “No! I swear!” “Get out Jaemin.” Doyoung’s voice was snarled and low. A voice he was used to hearing, but never directed at him. His feet moved on their own, head ducked low,

feet shuffling up the stairs to his room to await whatever doom was being decided upon him. Something like this had happened only once before. Jaemin had been in the vampire transition then to fully comprehend and understand what was going on. He did remember Yuta though. Bent over the trembling body of a male in their colors. Vaguely, he remembered the name. Taeil maybe? He’d obviously been someone special to Yuta. He’d never been the same since. That changed him into a ruthless, bloodthirsty killer. The door to his room flew open. Surely they hadn’t decided his fate already! It’d only been a few minutes! But when Jaemin caught Yuta’s eyes, he knew what he’d be forced to do. And it shattered him. Yuta’s arms locked around Jaemin, holding the younger in front of him as he was shoved through the dark catacombs, feet never making a sound. Jaemin struggled, a feeble attempt at getting away. And had it been anyone else, he would have succeeded. He and Yuta shared far too much in common. “You shouldn’t have gone. Then this wouldn’t have happened. But you are a fool,” Yuta hissed in his ear. If Jaemin possessed the ability to cry, he would be bawling. Instead, he was stuck, hands trembling, mind reeling, stomach hardening. Yuta shoved him through the familiar room with the cages. A room he visited almost on a nightly basis for his meals. Usually, the room had no affect on him. If he was particularly thirsty, this room brought him great joy. Now, all he felt was fear and hate. Renjun’s body was bruised badly. His arm was bent back in a way no arm should ever be. His left eye was blackening and puffy. Jaemin had hoped that at least he’d be passed out, that this could be just a little easier. But of course, this was the mafia. Great when no one had wronged them. Ruthless when someone had. Renjun’s eyes zeroed in on Jaemin. His one good eye widening then scrunching into betrayal. “I knew you were hiding something,” he hissed. Jaemin’s eyes cast to the floor, chest tightening in pain. “Well get to it. We don’t have all day.” Taeyong’s voice came as a shock. He expected Doyoung to be here. But not their usually soft-hearted leader. The cage opened and Jaemin was shoved inside. His eyes roved over Renjun with pity, fear, and sadness. Love and pain filling his chest. “I knew there was something different. I just didn’t know you were a killer.” The words pierced Jaemin’s unbeating heart. “Please don’t make me do this,” his words were a hoarse whisper. “Pathetic,” Ten’s voice muttered, stepping forward. He reached through the cage with a pocket knife and cut a large gash on Renjun’s arm, Renjun yelped out in pain. Blood beaded down Renjun’s arm. As soon as the smell hit Jaemin’s nose, his eyes glowed the familiar red. Renjun let out a strained laugh, eyes trained on Jaemin’s. “So much for our date,” he muttered. Jaemin got closer, knelt beside the male, staring at him hungrily now. Eyes bright red as the blood wafted to his nose. “I have always loved you,” he whispered, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to Renjun’s neck. Renjun sucked in a harsh breath of air. Jaemin could hear the males heart thudding in his ears. Jaemin grazed his teeth over Renjun’s vein, his brain muddled with the sounds of Renjun’s heart. He faintly heard the quiet squeak of the cage opening. Most likely a hungry Yuta coming to help Jaemin finish the job. But Jaemin had other plans. He waited for the door to open completely, and when it did, he snapped around, finding Haechan standing at the door, wide eyed. Jaemin’s mind was too addled to coherently see Haechan. He pushed his body into the elder, sending them both barreling into the floor. “Run Renjun!” He screamed, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of Haechan’s neck, the other letting out a loud scream, thrashing around. He heard the cage rattle as feet scurried around him, attempting to yank him off Haechan, who’s blood pooled into his mouth deliciously. He didn’t get to indulge long though. Arms wrapped around him, encasing him against a chest as fangs bore into

his own neck, ripping the flesh. “Get him out of here!” he heard Taeyong bellow somewhere close by. He assumed Doyoung and Hendery had carried Haechan out before Yuta attacked the young one too. “Shit! He got away!” Ten yelled angrily, stomping the ground before walking over and slamming his fist into Jaemin’s jaw. “You little traitor! You are not better than Yuta!” he screamed. The teeth in his neck retracted. Jaemin knew what that meant. He took one last breath, looking around the room calmly, relieved that Renjun had got away. “I can’t help that I loved him,” he whispered hoarsely. His body felt so very heavy. Venom trickled down the holes in his neck as he succumbed to the weight. Renjun perched right outside a window in the tomb. He hadn’t been able to go too far in his beaten state, but it was away, somewhere they’d never be able to get him. He watched with tearful eyes as Jaemin’s body was dropped callously to the floor, eyes wide but without movement. No breath entering his body. He watched as the body thinned, stomach sinking in on itself, ribs revealing themselves. Taking him back to the same state he’d been in before he was turned. And he realized it then. Renjun had gone to college because his parents could afford it. Jaemin’s family couldn’t afford food. He’d slowly starved to death. “Get him out of here,” the smallest of them all muttered, kicking Jaemin’s body and stomping away as the other vampire picked up the body. Renjun’s heart broke in two places. One side full of sadness and sorrow. The other full of pure hatred and anger. He would avenge Jaemin’s death. He wouldn’t stop until everyone in this Mafia house were dead.P

#nct fanfic #angst #fluff #nct dream #jaemin #renjun

4 notes · View notes