♡ exomeme ♡ ([personal profile] exomeme) wrote2016-06-19 05:00 pm

part three hundred and thirty five

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Round 3: Drabbles 1 - 12

[personal profile] exoact 2016-06-27 01:08 am (UTC)(link)

01. Chen/Baekhyun; Artificial Love

He crafts the face first, and the heart last.

The skin is cool to the touch as Jongdae attaches the arm. He glances at the still open chest, the vacant space in the center, waiting for something he’s not yet ready to give. But the outside—it’s almost habit now; fixing the joins, smoothing down the skin, until the body is as unremarkable as any human’s.

He’s lost count of how many he’s made.

(“It’s not like you need the money,” Baekhyun says. He drapes himself over Jongdae’s shoulders, as Jongdae works on the fine joints in the fingers.

“No, but people always need companions,” he says. “Memories.”

“Well, you have me. I’m not a memory.”

“You’re just an annoyance,” Jongdae laughs.)

Baekhyun had been his first. Baekhyun had been problem after problem that Jongdae had fixed and fixed. Baekhyun had been heart first and face last, because Jongdae had been young and shattered, and Jongdae had needed his heart.

Baekhyun sits in the corner, unresponsive, and Jongdae turns back to his work.

This time, the face is a mirror of his own.

This time, he wants to know what it was that Baekhyun had loved. That Baekhyun had made.








02. chanlay; Artificial Love

Yixing had heard of companions one could find at the mall—coming in all sorts of shapes and sizes, fitting whatever needs one might have. He wasn't exactly lonely, but it would be nice to have someone listen to the music he spent his days composing.

So Yixing took his time researching and renovating, visiting the mall each week looking for a suitable companion until he found the perfect model: he was tall and slender, with soft hair and dark eyes that sparkled under the artificial lights of the store. But it was the pair of headphones hanging from his neck each week that really caught Yixing's eye—and became the deciding factor.

Moving him was a little cumbersome with the extra half foot of height he had on Yixing, but with some careful maneuvering and a large-sized car trunk, Yixing managed to get him home.

Now he was stretched out on Yixing’s bed, legs curved gently together where they were bound, eyes bright and shimmering as they stared back at him when Yixing brushed a hand through his hair.

"My very own human," Yixing said with a smile as he plugged himself in to the wall for the night.








03. Suho; Trust me on this one


Junmyeon can only hear blood pounding in his ears, his world muted despite the managers still speaking. Chanyeol’s already yelling, but Junmyeon doesn't know how to even find words when the only ones in mind are lawsuit and what now? Betrayal tightens his throat, traps even those words inside.

As the others are herded out of the waiting room, still in make-up and stage outfits, he hears someone say “We’re taking you back home.”

“It’s our comeback – we’re even expected to win.” He can’t stop himself. “Everyone will be watching.”

“Exactly.” Yongmin says, sympathetic.

“One of us should be here.” They both know that’s not true though. The boys watch him, and Junmyeon wonders, worries about them. “I’m staying.” He sounds stronger than he feels, will need to from now on. “I will never let us down.”




Even on a crowded stage, Junmyeon feels everyone’s eyes on him. The others should be safely sequestered away already, every stumble and tremble escaping scrutiny.

This is what a leader does, he tells himself firmly, gripping onto the proof of all of their efforts. No one’s taking this away from them.

He clears his parched throat and brings his microphone to his lips.








04. suho/lay; Image (Ferris Wheel)

“I’ve always wanted to ride a ferris wheel,” Yixing says happily. Joonmyun laughs as Yixing alternates peering out the window and jumping back every time the carriage sways in the wind or comes to a stop.

“You’re scared of heights,” Joonmyun points out.

Yixing pouts and sits down next to Joonmyun, the carriage tilting with the uneven weight. “Yeah, but it’s a ferris wheel,” he says. “It’d be even better at night.”

“We can always come back,” Joonmyun says. He gets up to even the carriage out, but sits down heavily when Yixing loops a hand around his thigh.

“Stay here,” Yixing says. He twists his head around to grin up at Joonmyun. Joonmyun shakes his head fondly and pokes his dimple.

“You’re not scared that it’s tilting?” he asks.

Yixing shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Joonmyun’s chest.

“Not with you here,” he says, and Joonmyun’s heart swells.









05. Xiumin/Baekhyun; Image (Keyhole) | Warnings: exhibitionism, voyeurism

Minseok loves an audience. He loves the cheers, the compliments and the attention. It makes adrenaline rush through his veins and it makes him feel alive.

Minseok likes moving his body to the music, knows what movements to do to elicit a certain reaction. He knows what a shake of hips can do, what kind of thoughts he's suggesting when his delicate fingers brush along the surface of his thighs, knows which tone of voice drives someone insane.

His skin breaks into goosebumps as orgasm flows through him and Minseok glances at the keyhole wondering if Baekhyun liked the show.








06. Suho/Chen; Trust me on this one

There's not enough time. They're coming.

"We need to go!" Junmyeon yells over the noise of the maze collapsing. There's smoke and debris everywhere, filling in their lungs, intoxicating them. It's nearly over.

One by one they all take the small pill and jump over the vortex. All of them follow his lead except for Jongdae.

It's always been different for them, between the two of them.

Junmyeon puts the remaining pills on each of their mouths and pulls Jongdae towards him by the hand, covering Jongdae's lips with his. Both of them swallow at the same time as they kiss, tasting of ashes and chemical residue with a hint of despair.

Take the leap with me, Jongdae's eyes seem to plead. Junmyeon's face is impassive as he tightens the grip on Jongdae's hand before pushing him over the vortex alone.


Jongdae comes to church bells ringing and dark clouds threatening the whole of Almaty. Whether it's a coincidence or not, he isn't surprised that it starts raining after another of his recurring dreams. He doesn't know what they mean but he always finds comfort in the soft whisper he hears before waking up:

We'll find each other. Trust me.








07. Kai/Chen; Artificial Love

“You didn’t actually fall in love with it, did you?”

Through Jongin’s silence, Jongdae found his answer.


Jongin unexpectedly became sick at the age of six. Jongdae came home from school one afternoon, ready to play some Nintendo at Jongin’s place, when suddenly his mom told him he couldn’t go.

He’s sick. You can visit him tomorrow.

Tomorrow came two weeks later.

Machines and wires attached to Jongin’s pale body. People in white coats. The smell of sterility. Jongdae quickly realized Jongin was sicker than he had thought.


“He’s irreplaceable.”

Those words cut Jongdae deep, pent up jealousy and frustration over the years brewing inside of him.


Jongdae went to America for two months when he was twelve. The entire time there, Jongdae just wanted to be home with Jongin.

When he did return, a new face greeted him.

“His name’s Yixing. an AI. My mom bought him for me because you were gone.”


Jongdae had trouble at first adjusting to a new presence in their friendship, but he saw how it lit up Jongin’s eyes. That light was completely gone from Jongin now.

It hurts Jongdae too much. I’ve been with you since the beginning, he thinks. Not him.








08. Baekhyun/Kyungsoo; Artificial Love

Baekhyun watches the way Kyungsoo laughs at something one of Baekbeom’s groomsmen said, his hand reaching out and searching for Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun meets him halfway, letting Kyungsoo pull him in. Kyungsoo pinches him in the side.

“Hi,” Baekhyun says instantly, nodding at the groomsman. “It’s nice to see you again.”

They make idle small talk. Baekhyun can’t stop thinking about Kyungsoo’s hand resting on the small of his back. Kyungsoo pulls away, but Baekhyun can still feel the heat of his touch long after.

“You’re good at this wedding stuff,” Kyungsoo says after Baekhyun has finally managed to excuse himself. “I don’t think you even needed me here.”

“Of course I did,” Baekhyun says. “Mom wouldn’t let me come without a date.”

Kyungsoo chuckles. “Then you could’ve gotten a real date.”

Baekhyun tries to laugh along, but he can only manage half a smile.

“But I wanted you,” he says.








09. Chanyeol, Suho; The Little Prince

“That book was actually meant for you,” Chanyeol admits grudgingly once Minseok’s out of earshot. He doesn’t know why he even bothers – Junmyeon had been thrilled with Kyungsoo’s vitamins, had obviously meant for that self-help book of his to go to Sehun. As responsible as Junmyeon tries to be, it’s hard to deny he plays favorites, and Chanyeol’s never been on his nice list.

There’s something about Junmyeon’s expression now though, under the dim Christmas lights of the hotel room rented out for their latest recording. Not quite skepticism, but there is a question there, written all over his face.

“I’ve already read The Little Prince. Multiple times, even.” His voice is soft, tentative.

“I thought…” Chanyeol hesitates, decides to take Junmyeon’s attention as encouragement for once, “a dorm copy would be nice. And that maybe you could discuss it with me sometime. I could use some new material, for my songwriting?”

There’s a small quirk to Junmyeon’s lips. He reaches up to gently ruffle Chanyeol’s hair like he never has before. “I’d like that.”

Chanyeol looks down at Junmyeon the way he always has. But for once, it feels like he’s finally seeing eye to eye with his hyung.








10. xiubaek; Image (Ferris Wheel)

As the ferris wheel begins to rise, Baekhyun reaches over and grips Minseok’s hand tight. The higher they go, the harder he squeezes.

“Why did you suggest the ferris wheel if you’re scared of heights?” Minseok snorts, but his eyes are soft.

“I’m not scared—ah—” Baekhyun screeches as the ferris wheel lurches.

“Did you just want an excuse to hold my hand?” Minseok teases.

Baekhyun huffs but doesn’t respond. When they finally reach the top, he loosens his hand around Minseok’s. “You can let go now if you want.”

“I never said that,” Minseok says, intertwining their fingers.








11. Sehun, Suho; Artificial Love

“Sehun.”

Junmyeon watches the sharp eyes on his monitor, how naturally they soften upon landing on him. Thin lips curl into a sheepish smile, and he remembers the smirk they replaced – Sehun’s default expression before Junmyeon had expanded his visual references to decades-old SNS accounts overloaded with more casual, cheerful snapshots of his subject. He must’ve clocked in dozens of hours on reprogramming that correction, but it’d been worth it.

“Morning, hyung.” The greeting’s somewhat awkward, syllables slurring together. Junmyeon would suspect a coding error if he hadn’t specifically studied the cadence of the real Sehun’s voice, analyzing every decrepit FLAC file he could dig up in order to perfectly recreate it. “Need your schedule again?”

“No, Sehun,” Junmyeon chuckles, gazing down proudly as his pet project pokes at his desktop’s shortcuts. The avatar idly, unnecessarily, adjusts the seam of its pants with a strange leg wiggle, its mannerisms identical to the real Oh Sehun.

Junmyeon’s no Frankenstein, and there’s no technology yet that could revive famous strangers lost to time. But even if the Sehun of flesh and bone was long gone, maybe one of pixels and codes could outlast even the digital remnants its inspiration had left behind.








12. chanyeol/kyungsoo; Image (Keyhole)

“Here,” Kyungsoo says, sliding a key across the kitchen table.

Chanyeol looks up from where he’s eating breakfast—the breakfast he made in Kyungsoo’s kitchen before Kyungsoo was even awake, as comfortable here as he is in his own home.

“What’s this?” Chanyeol asks.

He’s got a piece of kimchi jeon halfway to his mouth and one piece of rice hanging off his bottom lip. There’s dirty dishes piled on the counter where he left them after cooking and the ingredients haven’t been put away yet—but there’s coffee on the table even though Chanyeol hates the taste, and he’s drawn a heart in Kyungsoo’s rice bowl with kimchi.

“It’s a copy of my key,” Kyungsoo says.

“Kyungsoo—” Chanyeol starts, staring up at Kyungsoo with glassy eyes.

“This looks delicious,” Kyungsoo interrupts, taking his seat at the table and picking up his chopsticks.

Chanyeol stares at him for a beat, before he picks the key up off the table and presses it into his palm. He holds it there for one, two, three seconds before he puts it in his pocket.

Thank you,” Chanyeol whispers in passing, later, while they’re standing side by side doing the dishes.

Kyungsoo smiles.