déjà vu (flashfic challenge: careless)
Apr. 9th, 2011 01:29 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ereluna.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
dbsk_flashficTitle: déjà vu
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ereluna
Word-count: 849
Rating: R... NSFW.
Concrit? Yes, please.
Summary: This scenario is a repeated script and Yoochun has learned what works and what doesn't.
A/N: Hey~! It's been a while. XDD Miss me?
...
DÉJÀ VU
"The world has it's own set of rules," Yoochun starts, an unlit cigarette propped between his lips. He rolls the filter between his teeth, brow furrowed as he stares at nothing in particular. Or nothing that Changmin can see. The mattress dips and creaks beneath Yoochun's feet, and Changmin watches, wonders, not for the first time, why Yoochun is so hard to understand.
Yoochun circles the edges of the bed, leaving blurry impressions of his feet in stained sheets. In the quiet that follows, he runs his fingers through his hair, almost pulling. He's almost angry, but not quite there. It's a simple feeling that hangs at the endings of his conscious; directed at no one in particular because there's no one else. He's reluctant to direct his anger at himself. It's the man he is.
He catches Changmin sighing, frustration showing only in glimmers at the end of his eyelashes. It makes Yoochun turns away, lower his voice to something more intimate, "You can't expect everything, anything to go on forever." Regrettably. The word hangs in the air like a heavy fog, unsaid. Maybe, if I were someone else, and not me. The thought comes and goes and in another minute, Yoochun steps down from the bed and begins fishing through the pockets of his discarded pants for his lighter.
"I never expected anything." Changmin denies, not quickly, his eyes searching the floor, mentally cataloging every article of clothing on the floor. Every single thing flung aside in carelessness. Unbidden, his mind pushes forth the image of himself, lying on that floor, equally discarded. The thought stings, but he forces himself to stand up to it. To acknowledge it. It's the only thing that will carry him through at the moment.
The click of the lighter is distinct, and Yoochun flinches against the sound before lifting the flame to the end of the cigarette. He inhales, and his nerves unwind, just a little. He ignores the voice in his head that murmurs déjà vu. It is.
Attach. Detach. Junsu. Repeat. Yunho. Repeat. Jaejoong. Repeat. Changmin. Repeat.
"I know." The agreement is meaningless, but necessary. Arguments never do any good, simply delaying the inevitable; and embittering the ones he leaves. It goes un-thought that he leaves them all. This scenario is a repeated script and Yoochun has learned what works and what doesn't. What leaves him feeling free, and what leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
This will leave a bad taste.
"Did you love me?" Changmin. Changmin refuses to dance in circles with his words; getting straight to the point, even if his voice is just a whisper. It's a trait Yoochun admires.
"Yes." He isn't lying. He still does. Just like he loves Junsu. Like he loves Yunho and Jaejoong. But, Yoochun's love is complicated in ways he can't explain. It leaves his lovers cleaning up the messes he has made of them. His regret is something optional; felt only half the time, but potent in it's intensity. He knows it'll be there this time. The anger still burns away at him, ever reminiscent of the cigarette that smolders between his lips.
His anger is equal to his regret, but that isn't something he thinks about.
He puts it out in the full ashtray next to a few unused condoms. A rush of simple lust runs through him, an ingrained need for human contact, and he thinks that maybe if he hadn't already burned this bridge, he might be falling back into bed at that very moment.
"Okay." And there's a pause. Yoochun glances over his shoulder in veiled curiosity. Changmin stands, still and naked, staring out the window. Yoochun can almost see him thinking as shadows fall across his face in thin lines. It's the first time in all their times that Changmin has forgotten to close his blinds, and that fact strikes him, almost physically.
"You should go." He says, unwaveringly. His eyes change focus; sliding their gaze to Yoochun, dark and full of an intent that doesn't match with his words.
"I should."
Changmin watches him closely. Yoochun is a lover he doesn't regret having. Yoochun is also a lover that he doesn't want to let go, but that isn't something he's deciding. He doesn't bother asking why. It always rang strange that a man like him was alone in the first place. He isn't stupid, but he's weak.
He knows it even as he moves closer to the other man, his hands aching to simply touch.
Yoochun knows this part of the script. It comes to him like second nature to step closer, to run his tongue along the expanse of Changmin's chest.
"I never expected anything." Changmin repeats in a sigh, running his fingers restlessly down the curve of Yoochun's spine, tangling his fingers in his hair.
"I know."
For once, Yoochun feels guilty about his carelessness with other people's hearts. Changmin, like the others before him, will be left with the pieces to pick up off the floor and Yoochun can't imagine it any differently.
In the morning, he leaves.
Author:
erelunaWord-count: 849
Rating: R... NSFW.
Concrit? Yes, please.
Summary: This scenario is a repeated script and Yoochun has learned what works and what doesn't.
A/N: Hey~! It's been a while. XDD Miss me?
"The world has it's own set of rules," Yoochun starts, an unlit cigarette propped between his lips. He rolls the filter between his teeth, brow furrowed as he stares at nothing in particular. Or nothing that Changmin can see. The mattress dips and creaks beneath Yoochun's feet, and Changmin watches, wonders, not for the first time, why Yoochun is so hard to understand.
Yoochun circles the edges of the bed, leaving blurry impressions of his feet in stained sheets. In the quiet that follows, he runs his fingers through his hair, almost pulling. He's almost angry, but not quite there. It's a simple feeling that hangs at the endings of his conscious; directed at no one in particular because there's no one else. He's reluctant to direct his anger at himself. It's the man he is.
He catches Changmin sighing, frustration showing only in glimmers at the end of his eyelashes. It makes Yoochun turns away, lower his voice to something more intimate, "You can't expect everything, anything to go on forever." Regrettably. The word hangs in the air like a heavy fog, unsaid. Maybe, if I were someone else, and not me. The thought comes and goes and in another minute, Yoochun steps down from the bed and begins fishing through the pockets of his discarded pants for his lighter.
"I never expected anything." Changmin denies, not quickly, his eyes searching the floor, mentally cataloging every article of clothing on the floor. Every single thing flung aside in carelessness. Unbidden, his mind pushes forth the image of himself, lying on that floor, equally discarded. The thought stings, but he forces himself to stand up to it. To acknowledge it. It's the only thing that will carry him through at the moment.
The click of the lighter is distinct, and Yoochun flinches against the sound before lifting the flame to the end of the cigarette. He inhales, and his nerves unwind, just a little. He ignores the voice in his head that murmurs déjà vu. It is.
Attach. Detach. Junsu. Repeat. Yunho. Repeat. Jaejoong. Repeat. Changmin. Repeat.
"I know." The agreement is meaningless, but necessary. Arguments never do any good, simply delaying the inevitable; and embittering the ones he leaves. It goes un-thought that he leaves them all. This scenario is a repeated script and Yoochun has learned what works and what doesn't. What leaves him feeling free, and what leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
This will leave a bad taste.
"Did you love me?" Changmin. Changmin refuses to dance in circles with his words; getting straight to the point, even if his voice is just a whisper. It's a trait Yoochun admires.
"Yes." He isn't lying. He still does. Just like he loves Junsu. Like he loves Yunho and Jaejoong. But, Yoochun's love is complicated in ways he can't explain. It leaves his lovers cleaning up the messes he has made of them. His regret is something optional; felt only half the time, but potent in it's intensity. He knows it'll be there this time. The anger still burns away at him, ever reminiscent of the cigarette that smolders between his lips.
His anger is equal to his regret, but that isn't something he thinks about.
He puts it out in the full ashtray next to a few unused condoms. A rush of simple lust runs through him, an ingrained need for human contact, and he thinks that maybe if he hadn't already burned this bridge, he might be falling back into bed at that very moment.
"Okay." And there's a pause. Yoochun glances over his shoulder in veiled curiosity. Changmin stands, still and naked, staring out the window. Yoochun can almost see him thinking as shadows fall across his face in thin lines. It's the first time in all their times that Changmin has forgotten to close his blinds, and that fact strikes him, almost physically.
"You should go." He says, unwaveringly. His eyes change focus; sliding their gaze to Yoochun, dark and full of an intent that doesn't match with his words.
"I should."
Changmin watches him closely. Yoochun is a lover he doesn't regret having. Yoochun is also a lover that he doesn't want to let go, but that isn't something he's deciding. He doesn't bother asking why. It always rang strange that a man like him was alone in the first place. He isn't stupid, but he's weak.
He knows it even as he moves closer to the other man, his hands aching to simply touch.
Yoochun knows this part of the script. It comes to him like second nature to step closer, to run his tongue along the expanse of Changmin's chest.
"I never expected anything." Changmin repeats in a sigh, running his fingers restlessly down the curve of Yoochun's spine, tangling his fingers in his hair.
"I know."
For once, Yoochun feels guilty about his carelessness with other people's hearts. Changmin, like the others before him, will be left with the pieces to pick up off the floor and Yoochun can't imagine it any differently.
In the morning, he leaves.
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no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 10:05 pm (UTC)Omo. Yoochun and his playboy ways. I really like this unusual perspective. Normally, one would focus on the one being heartbroken, not the one doing the heart-breaking. Even then, you can sense that Yoochun doesn't like what he's doing (doesn't like himself) and can't seem to stop.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 10:41 pm (UTC)Thank you. I certainly didn't know what I'd be writing when I saw the prompt, so it was surprising that the characters came out even remotely understandable. I think you're right about Yoochun and his feelings about himself and his habit (a friendlier term for putting someone's heart through a meat-grinder). Anyways, thank you so much for reading! :DDD
no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 05:01 am (UTC)Great response to this prompt. I can feel the regret both of them have, and think there's something deeply buried inside Yoochun that causes him to love yet run away.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-12 12:05 am (UTC)Thanks~!! I'm glad that shows through~ :3 You're right about that.