September 9th, 2010

good mood for me means updates for you :]

like the title says, i'm in a FREAKISHLY good mood today ((ignore the fact that i failed my math test)) and i am therefor giving you a TRIPLE update :D one chapter from hello, one decently old oneshot, and part one of LETTERS FROM MOTHER FUCKING WAR CHAPTER 20. oh i know, i'm excited too :]

granted, the LFW update isn't very long, nor is it very important, but! it's something. writer's block has been eating me alive for the past few months, but i managed to squeeze the first part of the chapter out and felt like i shouldn't make you wait any longer for it. the hello update will make you all shit birx and possibly shoot me ((*coughthenextfewchaptersareworsecough*)) :] the oneshot is... well it was me in my emo mood, k? the world needs some more fucking HoChul anyway ((yunchul?))

maybe you're asking why i'm in such a good mood? WELLLLL, i got some LFW written, which made me really happy after struggling with it for so long, my depression has gone away, taemin is <3, eunhae have sex on stage in SS3, the first three chapters of hello have broken 1000 hits <33333 ((ch1 has almost hit 2000 ;~;)) and the other three are not far behind the 1000 mark. i wish i could thank every single one of you personally, but... well... that would take me a very long time lol so i'll just say it here: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU ALL <3

AND now that you've lived through that ^, here is your update :]


Title: Hello
Length: [7/?]
Author: HolyStarDown
Pairing: Yunjae 
Rating: Overall NC-17
Genre: Psychological, romance, angst, drama
Disclaimer: if i owned them i would be posting HD videos, not fics 
Summary: Love knows no boundaries; it reaches the good, the broken, the hopeless, and even the insane
Author's Note: PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF ENTRY DATES AND NUMBERS. SKIPS ARE INTENTIONAL.


{Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6}



On a normal day, it only takes me about 10 minutes to get to the hospital from my office, but today it was a good half hour before I finally showed up at Heechul’s door. Somewhere between the highway and Gareul street, guilt came rushing at me, crushing my body as if I’d been hit by a truck. Really, I hadn’t originally planned on driving in circles around the hospital until it lessened enough for me to breathe (actually I didn’t plan on it hitting me at all) but it happened, and my hands were still shaking by the time I checked in at the front desk and made my way to Heechul’s room.

 

He was no longer sedated when I finally found the nerve to go in, but the room was still unnervingly quiet. I’m not entirely sure what I expected, I just knew that I probably wouldn’t be prepared anyway and accepted it, (Heechul was a pretty unpredictable person after all) but the room being absolutely silent would have been far from my guessing range.

 

Siwon had fallen asleep in the chair beside Heechul’s bed, pocket-sized Bible in hand and looking every bit as suave as when I’d first seen him despite being stuck here for 5 days. Heechul on the other hand, had never looked worse. His bright orange hair had faded and his eyes were sullen, staring straight ahead of him and accented with dark circles. My guess: he had been sitting straight up like that for hours, if not the entire day, and he probably hadn’t slept for even longer.

 

I swallowed hard to find my voice, clearing my throat a few times to get it right. “Heechul-shii?” I called softly, but he did nothing. My throat went completely dry and I closed the door behind me, taking nervous steps toward my patient. He briefly flexed his hand as I came closer, and only then did I notice the open notebook in his lap and pen loosely grasped in his left hand. A few characters had already been written on the page, so I took it as a good sign that Heechul was making an effort to speak again. This was good.

 

“I came by to drop off your medication and to see how you’re doing,” I started with renewed strength. “The nurse up front told me that you should be going home soon.”

 

He stayed frozen for a few moments, but just as I had hoped, Heechul soon tightened his grip on the pen and began to scribble characters on the page. I’d convinced myself that this was good too… until I saw what exactly he had written.

 

“I MISS HANGENG.” Plain, simple, and just enough to make me want to throw myself out the window. I could understand why he’d said it; people who have long-term hallucinations usually are upset when that familiarity is suddenly ripped away from them (especially when they become as attached to their hallucination as Heechul had become to Hangeng,) but it didn’t make me hate it any less. On top of that, he began to write more as I was thinking about it, and the new words made the window dive a very serious temptation.

 

“YOU SAID HE WAS COMING BACK,” he wrote. “WHEN CAN I SEE HIM AGAIN?”

 

My mouth dropped to say words I didn’t have, lips twitching slightly without sound. Fortunately for me, Siwon chose that moment to wake up and divert our attention. “Oh, Dr. Jung,” he mumbled, stretching out in the little space he had and snapping back to look completely perfect, as if he hadn’t just been sleeping in a hospital chair for five days. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming here today. Is there something wrong Doctor?”

 

Grateful for the interruption, I waved him off with a smile and shook my head. “No no, everything’s fine. I just came to drop off Heechul-shii’s medication,” I said quickly. “I have to get back to the office before my other patients come in. Sorry for bothering you.”

 

I tried to bow and leave, but Siwon seemed to have other plans for me. The man jumped to his feet and waved his hands between us, eyebrows sky-high and head shaking. “No, I’m glad you came!” he cut in. “I really wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us Dr. Jung. I know Heechul doesn’t normally show his appreciation and the events of this week have been a bit hectic but… you should know that what you’ve done for him is truly a blessing from God. I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am for giving Heechul your absolute best and caring so much about him. I just… thank you.” Siwon took my hand in both of his and bowed deeply to me, head down and body bent at the waist. I’d never felt a stronger need to throw up in my life.

 

Unlike the trip to the hospital, I sped the entire way back to my office and flew out of my car to puke just outside my office. Never before have I had that kind of reaction to an encounter with a patient (even in my most repulsing cases) and I pray that it never has to happen again… for my own good and for that of my patient. Not only does the feeling suck worse than anything I’ve ever experienced, but it would also mean that I’ve failed a patient as badly as I have failed Heechul.

 

Still, somehow I managed to pull myself together before anyone noticed me outside, but the taste of bile stayed in the back of my throat for long after and reached its worst when I walked inside.

 

Jaejoong was sitting on the floor across from Hyori’s desk, shaking uncontrollably and pulling at his jacket sleeves as tears streamed down his face. His lips were bleeding and three blood-red roses sat at his feet.

 

I wanted more than anything to turn and throw up again, but I knew I couldn’t let Jaejoong see me like that; I’d done enough damage to my patients today as it was. Instead, I called out to him as softly as I could while still letting him hear me.

 

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

 

Two horribly blood-shot doe eyes looked up at me through a curtain of black silk, their owner falling quiet aside from deep, trembling breaths. He must have been like that for well over half an hour.

 

“He got here right after you left Dr. Jung,” Hyori said quickly, answering my unasked question. “I tried to call you but you never picked up. He wouldn’t let me get near him so I-”

 

I cut Hyori off with a sharp wave of my hand. “Go outside for while I get him calmed down,” I ordered.

 

Jaejoong was staring at me now, his eyes wide and filled with something I’d never seen from him. Thankfully Hyori left without question, but now that Jaejoong and I were completely alone, I didn’t know what to do. His sobbing had stopped but tears still rolled down his face in heavy trails, his breath still catching in choked gasps. All I could think to do was close my eyes, wipe his tears away as gently as I could, and thank God that he didn’t flinch away from me as I pulled him into my arms.

 

Instead his thin hands clamped onto my wrists and made sure my hands didn’t leave his skin. “You said you would be here,” he whimpered as his hands tightened on my arms. “I was… I wanted to… Why did you leave me with her?”

 

“I’m sorry Jaejoong,” was all I could say- over and over again as I held him, and eventually he started to relax into my touch. His face found a hiding spot in the crook of my neck and stayed there, warm drops of water splattering on the black fabric of my shirt with every tear that fell from his eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

 

Five minutes later, I’d carried Jaejoong into my office and closed the door behind us before lying down on my couch, Jaejoong still in my arms but tears no longer being shed. His damp eyelashes fluttered against my neck every time he blinked, and it was driving me crazy.

 

My heart ached from everything I’d put him through today, the pressure building with every soft puff of air that fanned out on my skin. I knew I’d messed up again… but this time it hurt. Jaejoong crying on my shoulder, the way he still came to me for comfort… everything just hurt, and I knew I needed a way out of it.

 

I threaded my fingers through Jaejoong’s hair as if asking permission to speak and took him snuggling closer to me as a yes. “Why did you bring roses here Jaejoong?” I asked softly. My words felt like glass shattering against the silence we had created, and honestly, I was terrified. There were so many other things I should have asked Jaejoong, but that was the only thing that came out, uncertain and nothing like what he needed from me. I was just glad he answered.

 

“They were for you,” he breathed out. The whisper felt like silk against my skin and his fingers skimmed light trails along my arms, teasing almost and making a shiver race through every nerve in my body like only he could do. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

 

February fourteenth: Valentine’s Day. Jaejoong brought me roses on Valentines Day.

 

Before the thought could fully set in my mind, Jaejoong’s head fall limp against my shoulder and his grip on my arm loosened. Soft words spilled from his lips that no longer brushed against my neck, and I was almost sad for the loss. “If you didn’t want to see me that’s okay,” he said quietly. “I would want to spend it with someone else too.”

 

Jaejoong didn’t say anything else for the entire hour I was with him. Despite all my efforts to reassure him that yes, in fact I did want to be with him on Valentine’s Day, he kept his face pressed into my neck and his lips sealed. What exactly was keeping him silent I still haven’t figured out, but I’m determined to get the answer out of him tomorrow.

 

February 15, 2003

Entry Sixty-Eight

 

Jaejoong didn’t come today.

 

February 16, 2003

Entry Sixty-Nine

 

My dreams were ridden with all kinds of terrible nightmares and I couldn’t find anything to get my mind off of them.

 

I think I’ve started to hate not working on Sundays.

 

February 17, 2003

Entry Seventy

 

Jaejoong still didn’t come in today, but I did make a few decisions in the free time I had. Well, more like came up with ideas and will make decisions based on how those ideas play out. There are things that I’ve been neglecting to do for Jaejoong’s treatment (as I’ve reminded myself several times already,) and I realize that there are still many crucial bits of information I haven’t gathered from Jaejoong that I need in order to properly treat him both therapeutically and with medication. When (if) he decides to come back, I’ll be ready for it. Screwing around with him isn’t going to help either of us, and all I’ve done so far is waste our time. From now on, things are going to be different, and I mean it this time.

 

It’s not going to be anything dramatic really- just a few simple methods of getting answers from both Jaejoong and the people he comes into daily contact with. Although what I’m allowed to ask others aside from Jaejoong is limited and my time with them has to be minimal, outside information has helped me a lot with other patients before and I’m hoping it will do the same for him. My more direct method has to do with Jaejoong himself though. Um… obviously? God, what am I rambling about?

 

Anyway, a typical part of schizophrenia is having trouble with the “action/reward” system in a patient’s brain, and I’ve realized that I have a slight advantage in this area in Jaejoong’s case: he does something that shows that he’s making progress or gives me information I need to help him, I give him a reward. It’s going to be a bit risky and test pretty much every limit of my self control, but it’s also one of the most psychiatrically relevant things I’ve done with Jaejoong since he started coming to me a little over a month ago.

 

Honestly, I just hope this will work out.

 

February 18, 2003

Entry Seventy-One

 

“Mrs. Kim, tell me about your son.”

 

The woman sitting in my office blinked up at me, her dark brown eyes shining despite the pain that obviously hid behind them. “What would you like me to say?” she asked slowly.

 

“Anything that comes to your mind. His life before you adopted him, after you adopted him, things you like or dislike about him… anything.”

 

I watched Jaejoong’s mother carefully as she seemed to think about what exactly she wanted to say. After such a long contemplation, I honestly didn’t expect her to say anything important, but I was wrong.

 

“He was abused and abandoned as a child,” she said flatly. Her eyes were dead and hollow after the confession, her thin hands tightly clasped together until they practically turned white from the strain of keeping them there. “My husband and I didn’t really know what we were getting in to when we took Jaejoong in. He was always so quiet… We weren’t even sure he could speak at all until a month after we adopted him. But his smile- oh God his smile could make the angels cry. I think I’ve only seen it twice, but I remember it perfectly. It’s beautiful Dr. Jung.” The woman’s eyes glazed over for a second before snapping back to normal, her head shaking slightly as if to get herself back on track. “He never played with any other children, never played with toys, never took an interest in anything at school. He would just… stare. All the time. But he never looked anyone in the eye. We asked his social worker about it once, but she said it was normal for a child in his situation to act that way for the first few years of being taken to a new home.

 

“After that, we didn’t think anything of it until Jaejoong told us that he was seeing things that didn’t exist… hearing people that weren’t there. He started running away all the time too, sometimes for days. He would always come back fine though- or at least as fine as he could be- and act as though nothing had happened.” A sad smile tilted the corner of the woman’s lips for a moment and she seemed even more lost with each passing second of silence after her words.

 

“Is that why you weren’t bothered when I told you he was missing?” I prompted, to which she slowly nodded.

 

“I’ve gotten used to it,” she said simply. “It started when he was eleven. That was when my husband left us too; he said he couldn’t take Jaejoong anymore, so he left. I’m not sure Jaejoong even noticed. The only thing that changed in him was that he stopped making sense sometimes, and it just kept getting worse.”

 

Her words stopped again, but my pen continued to scribble across the pages in my notebook. There were so many more things that I could use with this new information I couldn’t write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. “Mrs. Kim, is there any history of mental illness in Jaejoong’s biological family that you know of? Specifically schizophrenia?”

 

Unexpectedly, my question made her face turn horribly pale. “Is that what’s wrong with him?” she whispered.

 

I spared her a glance up from my notes but kept my face blank. “Since Jaejoong turned eighteen I am no longer able to disclose that information to you without his consent Ms. Kim. I’m sorry.”

 

I thought for sure that my words would upset her, but her face and hands surprisingly relaxed. She nodded slowly and caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before speaking again. “He’s terrified of mirrors you know,” she said softly, almost as if she were telling me a secret. “I used to buy them for him all the time when he was little. He was such a pretty child… I thought he would want to see that, but every time he saw one he would cry for hours. I just don’t understand. By the time he was twelve I couldn’t let him go near them or he would start screaming and hitting himself over and over. I honestly think he hates himself Dr. Jung. I don’t understand why, but I think that he does.”

 

My pen halted at her last statement and my chest tightened badly enough to hurt. “You said that he was abused, correct?” I said as flatly as I could manage.

 

She nodded. “Yes. By his father.”

 

“What kind of abuse?”

 

She blinked at me for a while before answering. “I’m… not entirely sure,” she said slowly. “Jaejoong never said a word about it to anyone, and the only evidence they found were bruises all over his body. If anything beyond the… the physical abuse happened… Jaejoong has completely blocked it out of his mind. We’ll never know about it.”

 

I hummed in thought and scribbled some more. “Did his mother have any part in the abuse?”

 

“She ignored it. Ignored him. The case workers were unsure, but they said that it was unlikely that she paid him any attention at all.” Jaejoong’s adoptive mother shifted nervously in her seat after she’d spoken, and her eyes were flickering from one object in my office to the next at light speed. “How much longer is this going to take Dr. Jung? I really have to be somewhere i-”

 

“Not much longer Mrs. Kim,” I assured. “I just need to ask you a few more questions and we’ll be done.”

 

She didn’t seem to like my answer much, but nodded anyway, undoubtedly repeating the words in her head.

 

Again my pen started working. This was it: the final few questions that would get me almost exactly where I wanted to be with this meeting, and judging from the building cloud of tension surrounding Jaejoong’s mother, it wouldn’t be much longer at all. I let loose a ghost of a smile despite myself. “Have you noticed anything unusual or any changes in Jaejoong’s sleeping patterns in the past few years?” I asked, finally taking my eyes away from my notepad to look at her while she answered.

 

“He doesn’t sleep sometimes,” she said thoughtfully. “I know he has nightmares a lot, but I don’t think that’s the only thing that makes him do it. He… just has issues. Of course, he wouldn’t need you if he didn’t, but I mean he has issues with going to sleep some nights.”

 

As vague of an answer as that was, it was more than enough to get what I wanted out of this whole meeting. His mother’s fidgeting slowly smoothed out as I brushed my bangs from my eyes and gave her a leveled look. She widened her eyes slightly, but nothing more. “Does that mean anything?” she asked quietly.

 

I hummed in attempt to keep down my smile and wrote a few more words in my notebook before responding in the most indifferent tone I could manage. “Would you mind if Jaejoong stayed with a professional for a few days when he returns Mrs. Kim?” I offered instead of giving her a real answer. “I’d like to monitor Jaejoong’s sleeping patterns for myself if you don’t mind.”

 

“Yes!” she answered much too quickly, clearing her throat when she seemed to notice it too. “That would be fine Dr. Jung. Anything that can help him.”

 

“I assure you that it will be a big help,” I said with a hint of my smile breaking through. “All I need for you to do is contact me when he returns home and bring him here for his normal appointment time the next day. After that, I’ll need him here by 6:00pm every night for about a week. If there are any problems, please let my secretary know and we’ll be sure to arrange transportation for him. Thank you for your time Mrs. Kim.”

 

We both rose to our feet and I bowed deeply to Jaejoong’s mother as she left, partly to show respect and partly to let my burning cheek muscles finally have their way.


A/N: :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
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not sure what this was really

like the title says, i'm in a FREAKISHLY good mood today ((ignore the fact that i failed my math test)) and i am therefor giving you a TRIPLE update :D one chapter from hello, one decently old oneshot, and part one of LETTERS FROM MOTHER FUCKING WAR CHAPTER 20. oh i know, i'm excited too :]

granted, the LFW update isn't very long, nor is it very important, but! it's something. writer's block has been eating me alive for the past few months, but i managed to squeeze the first part of the chapter out and felt like i shouldn't make you wait any longer for it. the hello update will make you all shit birx and possibly shoot me ((*coughthenextfewchaptersareworsecough*)) :] the oneshot is... well it was me in my emo mood, k? the world needs some more fucking HoChul anyway ((yunchul?))

maybe you're asking why i'm in such a good mood? WELLLLL, i got some LFW written, which made me really happy after struggling with it for so long, my depression has gone away, taemin is <3, eunhae have sex on stage in SS3, the first three chapters of hello have broken 1000 hits <33333 ((ch1 has almost hit 2000 ;~;)) and the other three are not far behind the 1000 mark. i wish i could thank every single one of you personally, but... well... that would take me a very long time lol so i'll just say it here: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU ALL <3

AND now that you've lived through that ^, here is your update :]


Title: Crash
Length: Drabble
Author: HolyStarDown
Pairing: HeechulxYunho (friendship), implied YunJae and HanChul
Rating: PG-13 for language 
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: if i owned them i would be posting HD movies, not fics
Summary: Heechul knows that everything is falling apart, he just doesn't know how to stop it
Author's Note: it's not my best, but i wrote it to get out of my writer's block and when i was feeling the suju angst


“We’re falling apart too Yunho.”

 

The leader of Dong Bang Shin Ki (former leader something in the back of his mind hisses at him) doesn’t know how to react to such a strange greeting, but takes a sip of the wine he brought out for his night alone and goes along with it anyway. “What are you talking about Heechul hyung?” Yunho’s not sure why, but the wine tastes a lot more bitter than he remembered.

 

He hears a long pause followed by the rustling of sheets before Heechul’s voice comes out again. “Super Junior. We’re falling apart just like you did,” the elder man whispers through the line. He sounds distant, hopeless, defeated, and Yunho decides that he doesn’t like it at all.

 

“That’s not true Hyung,” Yunho tries to explain. “Have you heard anything about yourselves lately? Your Bonamana and No Other promotions were a huge success, Super Show 3 tickets are sold out for every city, and hell, your fans practically built monuments to Lady Hee Hee. I don’t see what you could possibly be-”

 

“I don’t give a damn about any of that Jung Yunho,” Heechul grinds out amidst a sob Yunho’s only heard very few times before. “If we’re doing so fine, why the hell is Hankyung off being a fucking super star on his own in fucking China without us? Why the hell is Youngwoon off saving the world while we’re dancing around in women’s clothing and vegetable suits? And where the fuck is Kibummie, huh? That’s the kind of stuff that matters Yunho, and none of it is right.” The elder man’s ranting was littered with sniffs and choked out words, and Yunho just knew that Heechul’s bedroom floor was probably littered with bottles of Hangeng’s favorite brand of soju. “I hate this Yunho… I really fucking hate this…”

 

Yunho gripped his cell phone tighter and found that he couldn’t even look at his wine any more (something in the back of his mind told him that it was Jaejoong’s favorite too.) He wants to say he’s sorry for something that isn’t his fault- wants to be the one to ease his hyung’s pain when he knows it isn’t his place.

 

All he can do is offer a soft “I know,” and listen to Heechul’s sobs until the sun starts to rise again and the only thing coming from the other line is the deep breathing of something too broken for him to ever repair.

 


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finally!

Title: Letters From War
Length: [21a/?]
Author: HolyStarDown
Pairing: Yunjae, Yoosu, Teukchul, ((and is that?)) EUNHAE 
Rating: Overall NC-17
Genre: Romance, angst, drama
Disclaimer: i only own them in my dreams
Summary: In the breaking point of the Korean war, two brothers get drafted into the military and forced to fight for the lives. literally. punishment in camp 409 is just as unforgiving as its officers. attraction? frowned upon. affection? unheard of. love? strickly forbidden. But the training camp they thought they knew gets turned upside down when six of them decide to leave no rule left unbroken
Author's Note: sorry this took forever! ((does anyone even read this anymore? :/))
i'm in a FREAKISHLY good mood today ((ignore the fact that i failed my math test)) and i am therefor giving you a TRIPLE update :D one chapter from hello, one decently old oneshot, and part one of LETTERS FROM MOTHER FUCKING WAR CHAPTER 20. oh i know, i'm excited too :]

granted, the LFW update isn't very long, nor is it very important, but! it's something. writer's block has been eating me alive for the past few months, but i managed to squeeze the first part of the chapter out and felt like i shouldn't make you wait any longer for it. the hello update will make you all shit birx and possibly shoot me ((*coughthenextfewchaptersareworsecough*
)) :] the oneshot is... well it was me in my emo mood, k? the world needs some more fucking HoChul anyway ((yunchul?))

maybe you're asking why i'm in such a good mood? WELLLLL, i got some LFW written, which made me really happy after struggling with it for so long, my depression has gone away, taemin is <3, eunhae have sex on stage in SS3, the first three chapters of hello have broken 1000 hits <33333 ((ch1 has almost hit 2000 ;~;)) and the other three are not far behind the 1000 mark. i wish i could thank every single one of you personally, but... well... that would take me a very long time lol so i'll just say it here: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU ALL <3

AND now that you've lived through that ^, here is your update
:]


{Prologue} {Ch1} {Ch2} {Ch3} {Ch4} {Ch5a} {Ch5b} {Ch6} {Ch7} {Ch8} {Ch9a} {Ch9b} {Ch10} {Ch11} {Ch12} {Ch13a} {Ch13b} {Ch13c} {Ch13d} {Ch14} {Ch15} {Ch16} {Ch17} {Ch18} {Ch19}



Never before had he woken up to a more beautiful sight. The smoothed out contours of Donghae’s face were only inches away from him own- beautiful, touchable- and Eunhyuk knew he couldn’t resist the calm innocence radiating from the other man’s sleeping body. His hand slipped from underneath the covers without him telling it to to caress Donghae’s cheek, slow and careful to save the last moments he had with his lover. The sun had yet to rise, but it was the closest thing to a morning after they’d ever had.

 

Donghae was always forced to run away as soon as their time together was over, often tripping over his pants in his rush to get them on and rush back to his Resident, noses bumping and teeth clashing in ungraceful last moments stolen for passion’s sake. Eunhyuk had laughed at him then, literally kicked him out the door and scolded him for not leaving fast enough but now… he wished that he would have let Donghae’s lips linger for a bit longer and pulled him back when he tried to leave.

 

Things like this were what Eunhyuk hated about being here. From the very first time his father brought him here at only twelve years old, he knew this was what he wanted to do, where he wanted to be, but the shackles this place had clamped around their ankles and the chains wrapped around their throats suffocated him as he stole a glance back at his sleeping lover. So peaceful, so beautiful… it burned.

 

Eunhyuk jerked his head away from the sight and focused on what was at hand: finding the release form. Carpets of paper crunched under the medic’s feet as he shuffled around the room, finally finding what he needed by the door where Donghae once stood. The page was stained (with rain or tears he couldn’t tell) but it would have to do; he only had two hours before the sun came up, one less before the other officers woke up for the day, and only seven before the love of his life would be taken away from him, leaving him alone and miserable in camp 409 once again. At that moment Eunhyuk hated his life more than anything. Things had stopped making sense and he just wanted it all to go away. He wanted it all to stop.

 

Pain burned behind the medic’s eyes with each word that spilled onto the form, every character a red-hot coal being shoved down his throat. He didn’t want this. He wanted to tear the form to shreds, screaming and yelling and raising absolute hell to make sure its contents never saw the light of day… but he couldn’t. Eunhyuk just kept writing until he forgot which stains were from before and which stains he created himself, why his arm burned like hell and why the pen was still digging into his skin long after ‘East Sea’ had been carved deeply into his arm- so deep he would never be able to wash it out of his skin.

 

**~**~**~**~**

 

Junsu could tell something was off from the second Leeteuk’s voice cut through his dream, screaming at him to get his ass out bed- quickly- and one glance at his brother’s bed told him that yes, something was off. Thin sheets fell from his body as Junsu hurried to get up, leaping to his brother’s bed and clamping his fingers around a corner of white sticking out from underneath Jaejoong’s pillow. He’d been stealing glances at the latter’s empty bed all night; how could he have missed it?

 

The movement didn’t go unnoticed by the man waking up just five feet above, blinking bleary, sleep-clouded eyes at his seething lover. “Susu-ah… what the hell?” Yoochun muttered as he watched Junsu’s tiny hands clench around the note his brother left behind. It was a stupid thing to ask really. Junsu continued to seethe without giving any hint of an answer and Yoochun shrugged it off; Junsu would explain whatever it was when he couldn’t stand it anymore, and for the moment, getting ready for the day ahead was more important. Their overseer came off as extremely on edge as he screamed at the trainees to get up, and Yoochun really didn’t want to test out just how far he could push before the officer fell off the edge and dragged Yoochun along with him; living and watching a certain Kim Junsu ruffle his little ducky feathers was just too much fun.

 

The grin that twisted the corners of Yoochun’s lips at the thought was short-lived though. Before the image of Junsu’s flustered face could pass out of Yoochun’s mind, the younger man snapped.

 

“This is absolutely fucking RIDICULOUS!” Junsu exploded out of nowhere, ripping his clothes out of his bag and effectively shocking Yoochun out of his daze. “I told Jaejoong, I fucking TOLD him not to do stupid shit like this but noooooo- he runs off in the middle of the night to go fuck some idiot ANYWAY!”

 

A balled up wad of paper came flying through the air and bounced harmlessly off Yoochun’s cheek, falling into his hands without a sound. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?” the elder man asked lazily as he unfolded the crumpled paper and spread it out on his lover’s pillow. The American’s feet swung leisurely behind his head while his chin rested in open palms and for a second it vaguely reminded Junsu of a 14 year old school girl.

 

“Overreacting?? NO I’m not overreacting!” the younger shouted. He stopped his furious pacing to stare at Yoochun’s thin frame, his anger calming slightly as he rested his eyes on Yoochun’s placid face. “I’m not overreacting…” he muttered.

 

“I don’t really see the problem here Su.”

 

Junsu froze. “What??”

 

Yoochun quickly decided that flustered Junsu was not only adorable, but potentially dangerous as Leeteuk. The younger boy was at his side in an instant, arms flailing in every direction and landing a few blows on his shoulder. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T SEE THE PROBLEM??” Junsu shouted as he unleashed his attack.

 

“I’m just saying that I don’t see why you’re freaking out!” Yoochun cried in defense, half-heartedly raising his arms to block Junsu’s flailing hands. “If anything Soryeong Jung can keep him from getting in trouble. I mean, look at it this way, he already gave Jaejoong a cover up in case something goes wrong.” His thin fingers circled over Yunho’s scribbled characters, drawing Junsu’s attention to the small action and breaking down his reserve. “Seriously Susu, look at what you’re getting worked up about for a second: we did the exact same thing- what, two days ago?- and you weren’t exactly complaining very much after that little adventure.”

 

Junsu blinked. “That’s not the point here,” he shot back, snapping out of his temporary haze and turning his glare full-force at the man on his bed. “The point is that Jaejoong still isn’t here, so don’t try to change the subject.”

 

Yoochun’s hands flew up in front of him in defense. “Fine, fine,” he relented, gathering his own clothes and following Junsu out of the Resident and into the bathrooms.

 

But the ranting about Jaejoong’s absence didn’t stop there. They continued through the showers and even throughout their journey into the Mess hall, and really Yoochun didn’t mind; if it meant hearing his lover’s voice all day he would gladly let the ranting continue (content be damned) simply because he thought Junsu looked adorable when he fumed about Jaejoong like this. He followed obediently beside Junsu as the smaller man led them through the line, nodding in appropriate places despite tuning the actual words out long ago and even offering soft mumbles of agreement when Junsu paused long enough. It was an easy task really, but when the pair approached the table they normally ate at, Yoochun was forced to break the cycle.

 

“Um, Su?” he asked slowly, his steps slowing as Junsu spun back to face him.

 

“What?”

 

Yoochun shifted slightly in his spot and flicked the bottom of his tray a few times just to make sure he wasn’t imagining anything. All real.

 

“I don’t think Jaejoong went on any rampage last night,” he finally answered.

 

Fire returned to Junsu’s eyes. “What are you talking about? Of course he did! Why else wouldn’t he have-” The younger Kim twin’s words were cut short as Yoochun’s arm stretched out, finger pointing to a head of soft ebony hair sitting at their table, lips twisted in a soft smile and face positively glowing. Junsu was left speechless.

 

Jaejoong was completely content with the world as he idly brought food to his smiling lips, his entire body numbed with a warmth he just couldn’t describe. The sex he’s intended to have with Yunho the night before passed them by after Yunho’s words of tenderness, but in Jaejoong’s opinion, the substitute was much better.

 

They’d continued to stay glued to each other’s body; hands, lips, torsos, fingers, everything still connected as Yunho eased his lover’s body down onto his bed as if Jaejoong were a porcelain doll, and he couldn’t have imagined anything more beautiful. He’d taken the younger man’s silence as an agreement to stop going further, but the lazy kisses carried on and soft caresses continued throughout the night like nothing at all could ever separate them. They both knew that the overall forbiddenness of their position was still there, taunting them and trying to pull them apart, but neither had given in. Their cares had been tossed to the wind, and Jaejoong spent the night wrapped in Yunho’s arms.

 

Although waking up to a frantic Yunho practically trying to shove him out the window hadn’t been nearly as tender as the night before, Jaejoong couldn’t help the gentle heat that welled in his heart when he replayed the memory again and glanced down at the new kiss on his hand that was sadly beginning to fade away. Only the letter Yunho begrudging let him scribble down before he left resting beneath his free hand reminded Jaejoong that everything had actually happened.

 

Dear Umma,

 

I won.

 

**~**~**~**~**

 

Heechul hated every single fiber of his own being. He hated that he’d woken up on the damn floor in his damn room, hated that the damn sheet he’d clung to all damn night smelled just like him, and hated that he was the reason that he had dried tears sticking to his damn face when he finally regained consciousness in the morning. Everything still hurt- although not nearly as badly as it had the night before- and pushing himself up off the ground proved to be a chore with stiff muscles protesting every step of the way. His head pounded as he stood upright, arm painfully stretched out to brace himself against the wall, and any sense of time he might have had was long gone. Only a few muffled voices and soft shuffling from behind Leeteuk’s closed door told him that it was some time after six in the morning, and the darkness shadowing the window signified that it was either before seven or already night. Heechul prayed for the former.

 

So much had gone through his head before he passed out on the unforgiving concrete floor, but Heechul knew there was still more that he needed to know- needed to think about. Among those things beating his mind senseless, only one thing had been certain: Leeteuk was the cause of all of it. Somehow every thought that passed through in the whirlwind had revolved around that man, and Heechul swore that he could remember his lips forming that name at some point during his deliria. And frankly, it scared him to death.

 

For the past ten years Leeteuk had been the embodiment of everything he hated, and Heechul had kicked the man around like a dog that always came running back to him no matter how cruel his treatment was. He’d done everything in his power to push Leeteuk away over the years since their friendship started to dissolve and eventually fall apart, and Heechul always thought it was what he wanted. So… why did his chest suddenly tighten at just the thought of his former best friend?

 

Nothing made sense; the pain burning in his chest, the sting in his eyes when he thought about the years of hatred…

 

Pull yourself together damnit. Stop this.

 

Slowly the Daeryeong made his way out of Leeteuk’s room and into the rest of the Officer’s Quarters (miraculously without being noticed) and practically threw himself out the doors into the open morning air. His mind had had a slow start, but now it was gushing thoughts and emotions that he hadn’t felt in years at fully bloody force. He wanted nothing more than for it to stop- oh God how he wished it would stop- but the thoughts kept coming until his pounding head couldn’t make sense of them any more. His entire body trembled with horror as his nails unconsciously clawed at the gauze binding his wrists, and he knew he was in no condition to be seen by anyone. Maybe, just maybe, if he slipped in the back doors of the Mess Hall to get his food before his deprived stomach imploded on itself then-

 

“Daeryeong Kim?”

 

Heechul froze mid-step and cursed to every god he could think of as he blinked at the man standing in front of him, stack of papers in his hands and face utterly scandalized. Well shit. “Soryeong Lee,” Heechul answered sternly, trying his best to look as if he hadn’t just been going out of his mind. Somehow the medic seemed to buy it.

 

The younger man’s wide eyes scanned every inch of Heechul’s weary body, making assessments and mental notes on everything he found from the paleness of the Daeryeong’s face to the fresh nail indentations in his palms. If anything, Heechul was in worse condition than he had been the night before, minus the drugged and unconscious parts. The Soryeong cleared his throat quickly and adjusted the papers in his hands before bringing his eyes back to stare straight at his superior, body trembling with guilt and a terror of his own. “I mean this is the most respectful way possible sir,” Eunhyuk began nervously, “but… you look… bad.”  

 

The brutal retaliation (somewhere along the lines of screaming and threatening and saying something that somehow made him spill his guts about what happened the night before) that Eunhyuk expected for his comment never came. Instead, Heechul just blinked slowly and kept a stone-cold mask over his face. “I know,” he replied flatly, his fists clenching only slightly. “But I certainly hope that’s not all you have to say to me.”

 

Both men were shocked at just how normal Heechul managed to make his voice sound, only one of them showing it outwardly of course: Heechul resigned himself to a mental “what the fuck” while Eunhyuk’s eyes nearly doubled in size.

 

“N-no sir,” the medic stuttered. “I have a trainee’s release forms that I was taking to Jungnyeong Park since you’re supposed to still be in the medical ward with Jungnyeong Shi-”

 

Jungnyeong Park is occupied and I’m fine,” Heechul lied, cutting Eunhyuk off and taking the papers from the medic’s hands. “If I remember correctly, I don’t think you said anything about my injury making me incapable of reading and signing forms.” Eunhyuk’s eyes filled with terror and Heechul raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

 

“Um.” His voice was raised and pushed out with much more force than necessary as he burned holes into the papers now in Heechul’s hands. “Actually sir you should really be back in the medical ward and not doing anything because what happened to you last night was really no-”

 

“I said I’m fine Soryeong Lee,” Heechul ground out. “Tell me what you need done with these and get back to your job.”

 

“Um, actually… um… if you could… If I could just… have one of those back… I, um… it’s a letter. To my father. Very important medical things. Sooo… if you could just hand me that one on the bottom that would be fantastic.”

 

Heechul’s skepticism grew thicker as Eunhyuk reached out a trembling hand toward the stack of papers and drew back slightly at the motion. “Is it really?” he asked, eyes narrowed and mind focused solely on the medic’s paling face.

 

Eunhyuk considered throwing himself in front of a jeep for a second before deciding to speak instead. “Yes sir,” he pushed out.  “It’s has to do with um… the trainee that is being released on medical leave today sir. He was admitted last night and-” 

 

“Last night?”

 

At that moment Eunhyuk was certain that his cover had been blown to smithereens. His face became impossibly paler and the hand suspended between them went numb, blood pounding in his ears loud enough to drown out everything else. He and Donghae had gotten so far; there was no way they were going to get caught now. “You must have been asleep when I brought him in sir. I kept him as quiet and far away from you as possible so he wouldn’t wake you.”

 

Heechul stilled. “Yes. Of course,” he said quietly before shifting his gaze to the unimportant building behind Eunhyuk’s tense form. Suddenly he didn’t feel like talking anymore.

 

Eunhyuk fidgeted nervously in the tense silence suddenly taking hold of them and tucked the letter away in his pocket, clearing his throat as an unnecessary distraction. “Three of his ribs were cracked when he was injured sir,” he began. “He wouldn’t have been able to train for-”

 

Heechul’s eyes snapped back to the other man and his sharp words cut Eunhyuk off mid-sentence. “I don’t care,” he bit out. “I’ll sign the forms when I get around to it. Right now I have other things to do, so don’t bother me unless something else has gone wrong with Jungnyeong Shim, understand?”

 

“But sir I-”

 

“I said do you understand?”

 

“SIR YES SIR!” Eunhyuk shouted instinctively, as a hand snapped up to his forehead in a salute he really couldn’t remember why he did. Either way, the Daeryeong seemed pleased by the reaction and left the medic standing alone in the middle of the grounds, still saluting empty air until Heechul was long out of sight.

 

It didn’t sit well with Heechul though. The younger man was clearly playing an avoidance game while Heechul was trying to hide a few things of his own, and for once the lie wasn’t obviously written on Eunhyuk’s face like they normally were. For the life of him, Heechul couldn’t wrap his mind around the possible answer, but at the time his attention was pulled in too many other directions for him to dwell on it much longer. His feet had unconsciously taken him to the Mess Hall and upon opening the doors, his stomach reminded him of just how long it’d been since he’d last eaten something.

 

Three days ago when you were with Leeteuk. Before you became weak, he reminded himself bitterly. With a deep sigh and a few smacks to his forehead, Heechul braved the crowd of officers and trainees all the way to the kitchen’s back door.

 

It was the first time he’d gotten his own lunch in over a year.

 

**~**~**~**~**

 

Changmin didn’t like being an invalid. He hated it really. The confinements of the medical ward were too small for his liking, and despite the throbbing in every inch of his face, Changmin wanted to be out on the fields training with the rest. His limbs itched for real movement- anything that could get his mind off of Yunho’s visit from last night.

 

Jealousy had eaten him alive all night long, and Changmin couldn’t get the mental images out of his head even in his sleep. He’d tossed and turned in the stiff bed Eunhyuk imprisoned him to, Yunho doing all kinds of things to Jaejoong in his dreams. Not like it was any better before he’d fallen asleep; a conscious mind could dwell on the idea in ways that a dream would be helpless to rival. Dreams just had solid images to work in their favor.

 

Changmin hated himself for thinking the way he did toward his best friend, but it was killing him to know that Yunho and Jaejoong had spent the night together, probably in each others arms or… doing other things Changmin really didn’t want to think about.

 

You did this to yourself, he thought with a sigh. Everything bad in his life was his own fault.

 

“You’re too nice,” Yunho used to say (almost on a daily basis) but Changmin always laughed it off. People were supposed to be nice, weren’t they?

 

Changmin huffed another sigh and threw the sheets covering his body to the floor, anger suddenly pulsing in his veins as he stood to pace the room. You better be fucking thankful that I’m this nice Yunho hyung, he thought bitterly. His pacing became rapid- faster and faster, back and forth until he threw himself onto his bed, forcing heated air from the back of his throat through clenched teeth. He needed a distraction, anything to get his mind off of this.

 

As if a gift from God himself, a familiar piece of paper fluttered next to Changmin’s outstretched hand, beckoning him to just take it. And so, Changmin did just that.

 

Hurried characters were scrawled out across the page in slightly uneven lines, some characters running together to make unidentifiable words, but Changmin couldn’t think of any handwriting more beautiful.

 

Dear Umma,

 

Junsu and I have been drafted into the military, just like you feared we would. I’ve only been here for two days, but it already feels like forever… The officers are not very bad, just odd. Especially Jungnyeong Shim; he has a weird way of doing things around here… Well except there is one other: Soryeong Jung Yunho… He and Jungnyeong Shim had a substitute for what the Daeryeong sentenced me to. I’d much rather not go into details about that since I know you disapprove of the lifestyle I chose. All I’ll say is that he’s a really good kisser. And, well, it’s a little awkward now that I think about it, but he saw me after I took a shower last night… I know you’ll never get to read this no matter how much I wish you could, so I guess holding back on what I say is a little pointless. I just don’t have enough energy to write more right now… I’m not sure if I’m in love but, I definitely feel something that has never been there with other people. This guy, he’s so different. I haven’t known him for more than a few days and, despite you telling me not to jump into things like this so quickly, I honestly believe that I would be lost without him… we still have the physical thing between us, but it’s more than that now. At least it is to me… it hurts to know that you wouldn’t understand even if you were still here. I miss you Umma.

 

All of my love,

Jaejoong

 

The letter slipped from Changmin’s fingers a little more with every sentence until it finally fell to the floor.


A/N: like i said, it's not very much and it's not very important, but it's something, and i have to split this chapter into a few parts anyway since this is barely the halfway mark
sorry that it sucks some serious ass :/

oh and also, there are parts cut out of the letter signaled by the "..."s
 
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