Log in

No account? Create an account

All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

Previous Entry Share Flag Next Entry
Drabble: His Other Half - Remixed
Title: Drabble: His Other Half - Remixed

Summary:Looking at the two men, you’d imagine an invisible bungee cord between them. A strong connection that may stretch and stretch and stretch but never snap. Where one goes, the other will follow. He may be the leader but where his lead singer goes, he will always follow. Always.

AN: Wrote this a few months ago… I just wanted to edit it a little.

He opens his eyes and stares at the white ceiling. His eyes hurt and the brightness of the room causes them to tear up. His body feels numb and he has no idea where he is. He tries to lift his head and his body screams in protest but he manages the small movement. The room around him is stark and white. A chair sits in the corner, a discarded leather jacket draped over it. He recognises the jacket, it is one of his. He turns and looks around, curious as to his surroundings, ignoring the pain in his head as his eyes drink in the bare room, finding it wanting. It is missing something. He falls back against his pillow and closes his eyes as a tear slips out, trying desperately to remember how he got there and where his other half is. Shouldn’t he be here? Holding his hand like before when he had been poisoned?

His other half.

He bolts upright, suddenly remembering, and jumps out of bed, ripping the IV out of his arm. He nearly swoons as the room spins around him, causing him to lean over the bed, his injured hands clutching desperately at the sheets, stifling the urge to vomit. He knows he looks pathetic, hunched over the bed with his eyes clenched shut and jaw stiff as he swallows down the bile that has risen in his throat. It is a bitter brew but he doesn’t care.

His other half.

He has to find him.

This time he moves slowly, gingerly lifting his head and straightening up to his full height. He takes a cautious step backwards away from the bed, ignoring his throbbing hands and head for the moment, and pads barefoot on the cold linoleum floor towards the door. His chest feels like it is on fire and he is having a hard time breathing but he doesn’t care. Pins and needles creep up his leg as he hobbles towards the door. A feeling of desperation comes over him as he looks down the empty hallway as he feels their connection ebb and flow like the tide at the beach they love back in Bora Bora.

His other half.

He knows he is there. He just needs to find him.

He moves silently down the hall, taking turns around the windy corridors, playing “hot and cold” with himself as he follows a trail only he can see. He soon arrives at a part of the hospital that seems busier than usual. It is still quiet but there are people sitting on the seats lining the corridor, some are sobbing and others are sitting alone just staring blankly, unseeing. The pull is strong yet he feels weaker with every step he takes. His head hurts even more now and he is deeply exhausted. But he cannot stop now.

His other half.

He is close.

He opens a door marked ICU, his rattled brain not quite processing what that means. He is simply following that trail he feels. Words mean nothing. It is very quiet and he sees several doors. He ducks into the first one as a nurse comes round the corner, not wanting to be caught now, somehow realising in the back of his mind that it will not be a good thing. He turns around to apologise to the occupant and finds someone practically mummified. His eyes widen and he quickly checks the hallway again, exiting quietly and making his way down the hall, still following that trail.

His other half.

His chest tightens and he finds it hard to draw breath.

He stops outside a nondescript door, identical to all the ones he’s walked past. This is it. He opens the door and the room is dark, eerie shadows playing on the walls. His mind twitches at a faded memory, this seems familiar somehow. He walks in and quietly shuts the door behind him, leaning against it as he looks toward the bed in the middle of the room.

His other half.

He’s found him.

He walks slowly towards the bed, feeling weaker by the second. His other half looks so peaceful, laying there, jet black hair stark against the white bandages and that milky white skin. His head is wrapped in gauze and so is his torso, a blood red stain on his right. Long eyelashes shadow his pale face in the low moonlight as the younger man reaches out his unbandaged left hand to softly caress his lover’s cheek. Eyes flutter open immediately and liquid brown eyes stare into pained chocolate ones. They gaze at each other, no words necessary between them as the standing man crawls carefully into the bed, next to the fallen angel.

The older man hides his wince at having to move but he would sooner cut out his tongue than let his lover know that he is in pain. They settle against each other, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, breathing into each other. Each laboured breath slower than the last as they look deep into each other, sharing beautiful memories between them. Matching tears escape their eyes which the younger man wipes away immediately, catching both their tears with his finger. He slips it between their mouths and parched lips suck at the salty wetness as more tears flow. The older man struggles to lift his hand, pulling the finger away from between their mouths. He links their fingers and clasp their hands together tightly as they press their mouths together.

“Don’t go… Please don’t go…”

The younger man’s voice is a pained whisper as their lips caress each other. Tears are falling unchecked down his cheeks. He knows, but his body resists. He feels, but his mind rebels.

“I have to go, Yunnie-ah… I have to make sure everything is ok.”

The older man’s whisper is soft, almost no breath leaving him as he struggles to get the words out. Trying to reassure his love that it will be alright. That everything will be alright.

“No, please Joongie…no…”

Unable to maintain eye contact any longer, the leader of TVXQ closes his eyes, knowing of the wetness of his own tears but unable to feel the scalding path they are forging down his pale, pale cheeks. Much too pale for the virile young man who was just two days ago, dancing onstage.

“You’ve always looked after me. Let me look after you…”

The lead singer lifts his hand slowly, swallowing his wince at the movement, to tuck an errant wisp of hair behind the younger man’s ear. He can barely hear himself, but he prays he can still be heard.


The heartbreak in the single word would thaw even the most frozen of hearts. But their hearts are far from frozen. Their hearts have been each other’s from the day the met a decade ago.

“I promise… Yunnie, I promise I’ll be waiting for you.”

A broken sob escapes the dancer, finally daring to open his eyes, blinking through a veil of tears at the solemn, yet still beautiful face of the only man he has ever loved.

“I’m scared.”

He cannot imagine the world without his lead singer. There is no reality he wishes to be in where the older man does not exist.

“I’d tell you not to follow me…”


“…But I know you won’t listen.”

“Joongie please…” He rubs their noses together, barely able to draw breath, struggling hard. “…Please hold on.”

“I can’t…” large doe eyes are hidden behind fluttering eyelashes as tears spill out the corner of his eyes. “I have to go first to make sure it’s safe for you to follow. I have to be sure…”

“Joongie, no…” his whispers are becoming softer, more broken, trying to hide the fact that he can barely breathe. That he is running on empty and has almost nothing left. He begs… “Wait for me please. We’ll go together.”

The lead singer opens his eyes as wide as he can, staring at the younger man, injecting as much determination as he can into his case. His voice is weak, but firm.

“I’m the hyung, I’ll make sure it’s safe first.”


“I love you…”

Jaejoong moves the minuscule distance to press their mouths together.

It is a soft, sweet kiss. A kiss full of love, of promise, of forever. Their eyes flutter shut and a long dull beep echoes around the room. The younger man chokes back a sob, willing himself to stay still. That kiss is a promise. His other half has never ever broken a promise to him, not even when their world fell apart leaving him picking up the pieces, and he wasn’t about to start now. He presses his own kiss against still warm lips, making a promise of his own, breathing his last breath that he has been saving, into the older man.

The two halves are once again whole.



AN: Please don’t kill me. This is the original - My Other Half [PG] and it’s almost 4,500 words. This a third of that.

  • 1

Oh I still remember the river I sobbed over the first one. I loved it ths time around too- the whole paranormal thnig of finding each other more haunting..

“I’m the hyung, I’ll make sure it’s safe first.”--> epic line.

Hope we have something slightly more cheery / fluffier for New Years? ^_^
Merry Christmas (in advance) bb!

  • 1