Euphor_ia & Dollfacade (krisooh) wrote,
Euphor_ia & Dollfacade
krisooh

DOLLHOUSE

Doll House
JaeJoong&Yunho 
Romance, slight angst situations

Parental Guidance might be needed due to some sexual situations.
JaeJoong's a walking, talking doll, and Yunho's a human puppet.

{Song used; ♫Yuki No Hana




Doll House

i.


The first time Yunho laid eyes on him he hated him. Hated him more than he knew he ever could feel. Hated how his large opaque eyes fixed themselves onto him, how they seemed to know exactly what he was thinking; how he was feeling without betraying any sign of change in his vacant expression.


He hated how his heart shaped lips, so pink as if stained with the juice of a delicate pink orchid petal; pressed themselves together as though to say 'I'll keep your secrets'.

Hated how his ageless skin glowed as luminous as a pearl, so fair; silken and smooth. Hated his wide cheekbones, his sharp nose - so detailed. Proportioned. Perfection. Plastic. A face that could launch a thousand ships.

He hated his dispassionate face all together, hated its stillness. He hated him more when he saw how his father looked at him, his eyes burning with fascination. So enthralled with the beauty; that he stared at him for a good ten minutes, more than the one second he gave Yunho.

He hated him, hated how the word perfection seemed lacking. How the word beautiful seemed inadequate. How the word hate, didn't mean hate at all. 

Yunho listened intently at his father's praises, "he is the latest doll - Most efficient, more efficient than ten strong human being's put together - he is made of titanium alloy. Insert disc A if there are any problems." The praises and the instructions became a checklist in Yunho's young mind. Do this, do that, make sure this, make sure that. Yunho had seen those doll commercials, seen every single one of them. All his friends had one, those whose parents were too busy for them. 'As of now, I'm branded as one of those kids.'

Yunho lets his eyes pass over the doll's body, scanning its broad shoulders, its small waist, and its feminine hands. Is it a boy? He's so feminine he thought to himself as his eyes found its way back to the doll's face, startled to see him staring back at him, the same detached look in his eyes.

   Yunho
     hates him.

Yunho watches as his father picks up his ringing cell phone, a mumbled yes, yes I understand. I'll be there right away made Yunho's heart turn over one, two, three, four, five times, before letting out a strangled breath. "Father, don't you know what today is?"

"What kind of question is that Yunho?" He answers back, agitated. Without another word, he bites his tongue as his eyes follow his father's back as he walks away, eyes welling up with sad, humiliated tears. His father not once looked back. He's out the door, out of sight. Yunho finds himself walking stiffly towards the window, watching his father get into the car and drive away. Tinkles of snow begin to make its way down. Heartbreakingly beautiful. He smiles through his sadness, his small hands trembling as they press against the frosted window. Don't you know what today is father?

He hangs his head defeated, wiping his tears on his sleeves as he sniffs away a runny nose. He cries into the cotton of his sweater, the first snow fall of the year greets him.

Feeling his eyes on him, Yunho slowly turns back to look at the doll, his wet eyes scrutinizing the doll's face. I hate you, why do you look at me so vacantly! Don't you feel bad for me?

Yunho catches himself leaning forward, breath caught in his dry throat. The doll was watching him. His gaze fixed with a perpetual blankness, but Yunho assumes there is more to the doll's gazes. A list of biting questions leave his mouth. Are you even a boy? How old are you? Whats your name? He finds his tone harsh, angry, accusing. His voice sounding foreign in his ears as they leave his mouth, passing his lips, dying in the air. He's never talked that way before. Never, not to anyone. Nobody would listen.

Calmly, the doll answers back. Yes, I was made to be a male of 20 years, Master - Made 1 month and 6 days ago; number 8574, Master - I was not given a name yet, Master.

   Yunho
     hates his responses.

It was as if he was mocking him, taunting him with his calmness. Whereas Yunho could feel his warm hands twitching, his lips curling as the feeling of humiliation rose like lava in his chest, even more prominent than when his father didn't know what the day was.

"Okay JaeJoong, I'll call you JaeJoong" Yunho says impishly, clapping his hands together, "undress." Without a word, he begins to undress, stripping off his uniform. Yunho watches, fascinated with his body. "Lift your leg and hop."

Yunho watches as he lifts his right leg up, and begins to jump. "Back and forth, side to side!" he finds himself screaming orders, agitated at the doll's blank stare. Yunho wanted to embarrass him, wanted to feel pleasure in his disadvantage. But he is, after all, a doll. Yunho didn't know what he expected.

"Never mind," Yunho pouts, stamping his foot in a tantrum, "you know. It's my birthday today. I'm 10 years old." Yunho says proudly, looking up at him defiantly. His fat cheeks jutting out as his pout became more shameless. His eyes growing smaller as burning tears blurred his vision, "it's my birthday, and my mom's death anniversary."

"Happy birthday, Master." He says, soft hands patting Yunho's head, his detached eyes staring down at the tear filled Yunho. Yunho can't help but feel comforted by such a mechanical response, feel soothed by such an indescribable voice.

   Yunho hates him,
      Hates him for saying Happy Birthday the way he did.
        Hates him for saying the words he longed to hear from his father.

   He hates him more than anything in the world.


ii.


"Happy Birthday Master." He says, his slender hands brushing light specks of dust off Yunho's shoulders. Yunho watches as the doll that replaced the presence of his dead mother, and the father he never saw; rub his shoulders. His gentle hands moving swiftly, gentle hands that fed, bathed, and held Yunho for 10 years.

"Do I look handsome?" Yunho asks him, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at him. He is now a full head taller than the doll, broad shoulders defined, articulate. His body a work of art, muscled and sculpted in the right places, with strong, long legs. Proportioned - masculine.

Leaving any traces of the baby he was ten years ago, his face sharp with high cheek bones. Dark oval eyes intense, but filled with warmth. Lips bowed and pouted just right. Yunho was now a university student, majoring in business and management to prepare himself for the world of business and money. The world his father wanted him to take over. The world Yunho didn't want any part of. But the strings his father tied on him held tight, the strings that he pulled grew harsher every year. Dance puppet, dance.

"Yes Master, handsome." He answers, mechanically. Yunho nods, yes - handsome. You reply the same way every year.

"Undress." Yunho whispers, and as always, he did. Shedding off his uniform, and standing solid before him. Now a man of twenty, his body ached - like a child needing his blanket, like a kid wanting his doll.  Yunho smiles as he kisses his pouted lips, as his finger tips trace the lines of his smooth body. "Let me make love to you." Yunho says, and pulls him into a strong embrace, his face buried in the dolls odorless black locks. Gently lifting him off the floor with passion, rocking him in his arms.

"As you wish master".

That night, he finds himself making love to his doll. His eyes closed shut as his doll rained cool kisses on his aching body. His eyes quick to open as the cool lips touched his erect manhood. Kissing the sides gently, his tongue tracing along Yunho's veins. Sucking on the tip, his tongue probing the slit.

"What - what is your tongue made of?" Yunho gasps, his head lolling backwards. He doesn't bother listening to the response, his mind feels light. Delirium. He senses that he is slipping away, mind out of body as his body shook with new tremors. Slowly, fighting to come back, opening his eyes - refusing to blink, he fixes his eyes onto him.

"JaeJoongie, come." Yunho says, his voice choked as he opens his arms to his doll. Slowly, he climbs on top of Yunho, positioning himself onto Yunho's throbbing cock, pushing himself down.

"How does it feel master?" He asks, moving his hips up and down as Yunho grabbed his thighs. He finds himself rocking in and out of his doll's smoothness. What is this, how - how can he feel so good? He was just like a human, his skin - although without warmth was smooth against his.

"Can you feel me JaeJoongie?" He asks, his voice husky. He hears a no, and he begins to tear. "Not at all JaeJoongie?"

"I'm sorry." He says,  and Yunho  begins to cry as he releases, as the light snow makes its way down outside - the first snowfall of the year. Hugging his doll close. His buries his face in his neck. He feels his doll's arms wrap around his shaking body. Curling himself up inside his doll's hold, he finds warmth in the cool arms of his doll, he's never felt so warm. Never, no human ever made him feel so warm.


   Yunho 
      hates him more than anything in the world,
        hates him for being the thing he loves most in the world.


iii.


"Yunho-ah, Happy Birthday," Yunho's wife greets him as she walks into his room. Yunho nods at her, and she smiles. At thirty, Yunho finds himself in an arranged marriage with his father's friend's daughter. A merging of companies is great business son, his father says.

Holding the baby in her hands, she rocks it back and forth,"happy birthday daddy. Say happy birthday." She whispers to their one year old child, Shiwon. He looks at the baby that really isn't his, made from an affair his wife had, they agreed to keep it as his own for Yunho's father's sake. Always for you damn father.

The child's father was a good man, a good man that denied the money Yunho offered and asked if he could visit his child four times a week. He was a good man named Kim Junsu, a better man than Yunho, a better father than Yunho. For Yunho couldn't even lay a finger on the child, couldn't look at it.

Yunho smiles as JaeJoong walks into his room holding a necktie, and putting it around Yunho's neck. "Master Yunho-ah, this should match." Never having been able to drop the master, Yunho accepted the change. JaeJoong's hands move slowly, slower than they used to. Pulling the necktie a little too tight, Yunho's eyes pop open.

"JaeJoongie!" Yunho chokes, but utters a small laugh as JaeJoong takes another attempt to tie his tie.

"I don't understand why you keep him Yunho!" Yunho's wife, Jessica, mutters; putting Shiwon down. She pulls JaeJoong backwards and she swiftly ties Yunho's tie. Her icy stare following JaeJoong. "He's an old model, shouldn't we get a newer model? I mean he's incompetent Yunho!"

"I'm sorry." JaeJoong responds.

"I will never get another doll." Yunho says stiffly, escorting his wife out of his room, and turning back to JaeJoong who still held the same blank stare. He looks at Yunho, a 'why are you so upset Master Yunho-ah' glinting in his eyes. "JaeJoongie, why do you let her talk to you like that? I know you have some smart remarks in there. I know you."

Yunho brushes JaeJoong's cheeks with his thumbs, and kisses JaeJoong's forehead. "I decided JaeJoongie, that I will feel for you. I will feel your hurt, your sadness, I will feel for you your happiness and joys. I will feel for you."

He says holding JaeJoong's head to his heart, "Okay JaeJoongie?"
"Okay Master Yunho-ah"
"JaeJoongie, do you think a human and a doll can ever get married?"


   Yunho
      hates how much he loves JaeJoong.


iv.


"Happy birthday, Master Yunho-ah." JaeJoong says, patting Yunho's shoulder. Looking up, Yunho's lips quiver before pulling downwards. His tear streaked face disguising his true feelings of freedom and JaeJoong see's through it. Your father was in an accident Yunho shii, he didn't make it. The phone call still rings true in his ears from yesterday. Father is dead, my strings to him have been cut - that's one role I can stop acting. The good son. Finally, at the age of forty.

Yunho and his wife discuss their future the following week, "I'll give you as much as you need - I'll buy you a house - but please, all I ask is my freedom and this house, and JaeJoong."

Jessica agrees, although a look of bewilderment struck rigid in her face. "Yunho shii, that doll isn't real. You know that don't you? Its not real." She says, a tinge of concern in her tone.

"But he is real, Jessica. He's as real as you and me. Maybe even more real." With that, his wife and her son leave that night. Taking a large sum of money. It could seem as though Yunho had gone insane, that something about his thinking was off. But he was as sharp as it goes, to him JaeJoong was real. Real in the aspect that he did not give Yunho fake smiles, could not give Yunho fake smiles or played out sympathy. He was more real to Yunho than any human being he had ever met.

"I'll always be here for you Master Yunho-ah, forever" JaeJoong says, a hand on Yunho's shoulder as both walk away  out of the cemetery, thousands of snowflakes falling on both the doll and the human.


v.


At fifty-five, Yunho finds himself bedridden. Doctors say there isn't anything they can do, his illness is eating away on his insides. Fast and sure, there's no way to stop it now.

Yunho knows his fate, knows it all too well. Holding JaeJoong's hands, he lets out one last cry before smiling a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. Goodbye, JaeJoongie.

Please take care of JaeJoong is the only thing written on his will.

   Yunho
      loves JaeJoong.



vi.


"No one wants it!" Shiwon mutters looking at the doll, "its worth nothing for being an old model. It doesn't even have any emotions like the new ones do!"

"Honey, don't you think you're being cold hearted?" Shiwon's wife, Yuri, asks looking at her dead father in-law. "I mean your father is dead."

"All he cared about was that doll." He answers back. "I can't even look at it." Yuri looks at the doll, eyeing it carefully. She senses something odd about it, the way it fixed its eyes on the open casket. How its eyes seemed to glint with something she never saw in a doll, not even the new models.

"Maybe, maybe. He should die along with my father." Shiwon suggests. Horrified, Yuri stands up and tugs his arm. "Are you crazy?"

"Gladly," a voice came, calm and smooth. Yuri turns, seeing the doll standing behind her.
"Then get inside." Shiwon says with a smile, and they both watch as the doll climbs into the casket, positioning himself as if not to bother his partner. Yuri holds her breath as the doll lets his head fall onto his master's shoulder, a faint smile on his lips.

"It's smiling Shiwon!" Yuri says, backing up, "he's smiling!"
"Don't be crazy, he can't smile." Shiwon says, closing the casket.


vii.


I smiled, holding his hands tightly in mine. My eyes never leaving his smiling face, I always watched him. My master. Always. Walking towards the sunset as 2 shadows, snow falling like soft cotton on our heads. I was so happy, I was so happy I could cry.

   JaeJoong
      loves Yunho

                Yunho ah, do you think a doll and a human can get married?



+
1. Yes! Something, I wrote something! *clamps hands over mouth- I'm not sure if I've broken through my scatter brain ways yet. But I feel happy I was able to produce well -something.

2. This was inspired by a manga called Doll: IC IN A DOLL by mihara mitsukazu. The storyline was about a woman who became extremely close to her doll (first 22 pages). Because I find the whole doll aspect amazing (tending to describe JaeJoong as a doll in some of my fics). I became quite crazy writing this because I wanted it to be just right.But sadly, there must be flaws, so please excuse misspellings and etc.
3. Notice that in the beginning JaeJoong is an it, and slowly becomes a 'JaeJoong' (humanly by Yunho) and becomes an it again when with Shiwon. I highlighted him and he for JaeJoong because even I confused myself sometimes
4. & Yunho and JaeJoong were cremated. Okay? Okay.


HTML Hit Counter
HTML Hit Counter
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 412 comments
Previous
← Ctrl ← Alt
Next
Ctrl → Alt →
Previous
← Ctrl ← Alt
Next
Ctrl → Alt →