Ringmaster

"Yoon…gi."  Something that shines.  Brightness, like the sun reflecting on water?  Like the stars and moon that had helped him navigate through trees in the night?  Not the sterile, bleak fluorescence he’d been brought up in, surely.  He repeated it a few more times, head tilting slightly even as Junsu brushed his dirty hair from his face.  He liked the way this name felt in his mouth.  It felt warm and sweet and nice, especially the way Junsu said it.  "I can be Yoongi now?  I don’t have to be Icarus anymore?"

His eyes followed Junsu, all the inquisitiveness of a five year old child in his gaze, and he froze up a bit at the sight of gloves and tools.  Those things only ever meant hurt.  Bad hurt.  It took a moment of him reminding himself that Junsu meant no harm, that Junsu had done nothing but help him, before his breathing returned and he spoke, albeit rather shakily, over his shoulder.

"It’s on this side," he murmured, touching his left shoulder.  His small wings stretched up and away, pushing open the spaces in his back as far as they could without being in the way.  "It’s in where my wing comes out."

He didn’t know how to explain it any better.  The warm spot was up inside his back, at least three to four inches in, though he had no knowledge of measurement to share that information.  All he knew was that it was warm, and it burned hotter when they were closer.  It hurt when they found him, like it was trying to sear its way out of him.  He curled his fingers of his right hand into the torn edges of his shirt at his shoulder and closed his eyes, the fingers of his left doing the same as he gripped his right sleeve tightly.  He had been through things like this enough to know that it would be helpful if he were still.

Being still meant less pain for him.

He followed Yoongi’s instructions of where he felt the tracking device. He turned on the flashlight and moved it to where he could see somewhat into the canal. At first there seemed to be nothing and he pursed his lips a bit, wondering how deep in the thing might be.

It took him moving the flashlight off of where it was directly into the track to see it. A faint red light shown very softly under the skin. It was small and barely noticeable but it was there. “They definitely put a tracker in you..” Junsu said, shaking his head. It was then that Yoongi’s question came.

Junsu paused in what he was doing, formulating his thoughts so that he could explain it in a way that Yoongi could understand. “We perform for people to make them smile. At least those of us with abilities that can be shown off. One of our members can speak to animals. She dances with them in her performance to make the people who come to see the show smile. We move every so often so that we can give smiles to people all over.”

He moved to the side, grabbing a headband that had a flashlight on it, turning it on and looking down back into Yoongi’s wing track. “This is going to hurt a bit, okay? Let me know if it is too much. I promise I will heal it as soon as I get the hot part out,” He said with a smile, voice soft and sincere. He gently pushed the track open enough to where he could get the scalpel in and gently moved to open up the skin, trying to make as small of an incision as possible.

But as little as he had expected that Junsu would react the way he did, as little had he expected him to lean in and actually plant a firm kiss on his cheek.

Yongguk’s hand reflexively reached up to wipe it off — because it actually felt wet and rather gross if he was being completely honest — when the flowers he had picked for the other with so much love flew back right in his direction just moments later.

Yongguk’s eyes followed rather dumbfounded as the bouquet dropped to the ground, and he pursed his lips to the side while his hand was still pressed against his cheek. And it started looking rather disoriented there.

A short laugh in form of a huff escaped his lips then. No, really. This was so awkward.

He was glad that Junsu dropped the act with a laugh — at least that’s what he thought he was doing — and finally moved his hand from the stained cheek, pushing it into his jeans pocket while he talked.

"You’re asking me why I’m bringing you flowers? Isn’t it obvious my love for you is strong?” he continued joking. But before Junsu could even reply, he shook his head and added: “How are you ever going to make a girl swoon if you can’t even accept flowers from your friend? Idiot.”

“You’re starting to sound like a broken record. Lets go find you a girl! Lets go get you a date!” Junsu shook his head and laughed, sticking his hands in his jean pockets. “That just really doesn’t seem important in the scheme of things. I’ve got a circus to run. Hongki and Ahyeon left it to me and I have a responsibility to everyone here to keep things going,” He sighed, shaking his head.

“The flowers were a nice touch this time, though. However, please punch me if I ever have the urge to kiss you again. You taste disgusting,” Junsu winked, french accent thicker than usual because of his fatigue. He wouldn’t let being tired ruin his time with his friend though. He didn’t get time like this very often anymore.

“No more dating or girl talk unless there is someone in your life that you want to talk to. I want to go out, get some alcohol and get some good non-circus food. The food here is good enough to keep you going but I want something that doesn’t taste like cardboard,” he smiled, waving for Yongguk to follow him off of the grounds. He had let Fei and Dara know that he was leaving for a few hours and had left them in charge. He just hoped that he didn’t come back to a burned down circus.

What if they came? And what if they took Junsu, too?

"You can take the warm spot out?"  He slid one hand over his left shoulder, fingers curling under the edge of his torn shirt.  A decent section of the back was gone, ripped away by his wings when they’d first appeared during his escape; it left his skin exposed, and showed exactly where his wings met with his back.  "I can feel it inside the place my wings come from.  I can’t reach there…"

Did he have a name…?  Another name?  Icarus shook his head, his bottom lip trembling a little as he thought about it.  He had always been Icarus.  For as long as he could remember, that had been what he’d been called.  He had always assumed it was his name… but if it was a classification, it wasn’t really his name, was it?

"They never called me anything else.  I don’t have another name at all…  there was nothing before Icarus. There was no me."  At least no him that he remembered.

When Junsu was done with his feet, the boy pulled them in automatically, gently prodding the damp skin of his soles.  They’d been so dirty and scratched and full of ick before… but now they were perfect and not even the slightest bit painful.

This man was very, very different from everyone else he’d ever known.  He even thought his flawed, broken, wrong wings were beautiful.  Icarus looked at him sadly, his voice catching in his throat as he whispered back.

Junsu wanted to befriend this boy. He wanted to befriend him, protect him and learn about him. And to do that, Icarus needed to be no more. “You can stay here, but to do that, you need a name. Lets see... Yoongi.” Junsu watched the boy’s face as he tested out the name and yet it seemed to fit so perfectly, he didn’t throw out anything else. “Yoongi means luster or something that shines. You shine with curiosity and gentleness that I have not seen in a long time. Yoongi seems gentle and happy. If you like it, that should be your name. Yoongi is happy while Icarus is far too sad,” He smiled, reaching out and softly moving the boy’s hair from his face.

“I can also take the tracking device out, but I think I should do it now rather than wait. If we wait, people could come looking for you and that is dangerous for all of us. It might hurt, but I will make the pain go away as fast as I can if it does. You shouldn’t need to suffer in any way more than you already have,” Junsu said, getting up and moving away to pick up the minor surgical things he would need. He put on gloves and picked up a small flashlight, moving behind Yoongi.

"I’ve never eaten before," he whispered quietly when his mouth was clear, rubbing his inner forearm near the elbow.  He kept that arm pressed in against himself, a quiet tremor still running through him enough to make his hands shake.  Anything necessary for his body to function had previously come from a tube… he pointed at the water bottle and the bag, his voice small.  "Can I?"

The water stung as his foot sank into it, and while the boy had felt worse in his short lifetime it still made him wince.  Despite that, the foot stayed where it was; he was well-trained, at least, to withstand to a certain degree.

Angel was a word that he knew as well, though he wasn’t quite sure of what it meant.  In passing he had heard someone once say they were “making angels”, but he hadn’t realised they were talking about him.  If Icarus was the name of an angel… then… he wasn’t sure he wanted to be one at all.

“‘Current subject in Project Icarus is incapable of producing permanent wings; the body is rejecting slash resisting our efforts to strengthen its ability to create the proper materials for holding the wings together.  Breakdown begins one point seven five hours after manifestation, accounting for light use.  Heavy use lowers timeframe to one point one five hours.  These are rough estimates due to subject’s multiple wing sizes.’”  The words were not his own, and they were spoken in an authoritative, almost clinical way.  They were the last ones he remembered hearing before he had escaped - they had sounded important, especially the last part.  His voice went softer, and he lowered his eyes.  “‘Request inquiry into data and second opinion on continuation and further procedures or possible destruction of flawed subject.’”

I had such high hopes for you.

Those words had been spoken directly to him, and it was what had triggered his sudden need to escape.  The boy let his gaze move back to Junsu, a quiet sadness lingering in his face.

"They were going to destroy me.  I wouldn’t have existed anymore."  Even existing in the place he had, in the way he had, he knew he wanted to continue being.  Survival, after all, is one of the basest instincts.  "There was a hole in the wall with bars over it… a duct?  I broke it and climbed in so they couldn’t find me, but I fell out of it and found a door to the outside."

There was a sudden onset of panic as a thought loudly presented itself again; they would find him.  They could find him.  He shifted a little, and his wings fluttered with agitation.

“I’ll make you ddukbokki after we talk, it will give you more energy than just the cookies,” Junsu chuckled softly as he cleaned off Icarus’ feet. He ended up having to reach over and unroll some of the medical tools, pulling out a pair of tweezers to help pull out any debris. The water that had once been clear in the bucket was getting cloudy as Icarus’ feet were clearing off.

Icarus began to speak and Junsu stayed quiet as he worked, hanging onto each word that the other spoke. It sounded like a recording, not like something that should come from a young boy’s mouth. It sounded like some sort of scientific report and that worried Junsu. The more he spoke, the slower Junsu’s work was until he finally stopped scrubbing Icarus’ feet. The boy wasn’t the first experiment he had met, but so far he was by far the saddest.

His eyes stayed on the boy, his tongue still silent as he waited for Icarus to finish speaking. The sad look on his face was enough to make a lump form in Junsu’s throat, but he knew that he had to be the stronger one in this situation.

Panic jumped back into Icarus and Junsu looked down, both hands wrapping around one foot slowly. A warm light radiated between his hands. The damage to the feet was much more prominent than his face, so the healing process would take a little bit longer. Warm spot. A tracking device. He decided to keep himself quiet as he decided on the situation.

“No, it sounds like you have nowhere else to go. And I would feel terrible if I let you leave knowing that you could be hurt by someone at any moment,” He said, pulling his hands away from Icarus’ foot. His hands moved to the other one and he looked up, a small smile on his face.

“I’m willing to bet that Icarus was an experiment classification and that the warm spot is a tracking device..” The glow started around the second foot as he thought about things. “I could possibly remove the tracking device, but it might hurt depending on where it is... Do you have a name? Something I can call you other than Icarus? The name seems to upset you,” He thought out loud, letting go of the boy’s other foot. He stood up and moved the bin of water, putting it to the side so that he could discard it later.

Icarus was a sad name.  He had a sad name.  The boy peeked out just enough to look up at Junsu’s face, his vantage point granting him nothing but an eyeful of his jaw.  Why was it sad, he wanted to ask… but the change of surroundings gave him pause. He’d been brought into one of the makeshift buildings, as best he could tell; the moment he felt his body touch something solid, he let go of Junsu and dragged all of his limbs in close.

He would have tucked his face into his knees were it not for Junsu’s hand touching his cheek.  It felt warm, and a strange tingling he’d never felt before went through his skin; it felt nice, and he closed his eyes until the hand disappeared.

What was he doing?  Icarus watched apprehensively as the man opened the little bag and ate one of the things inside.  When he held the bag out, the boy very slowly copied what Junsu had done.

“Don’t be scared to ask for more. I’m going to clean your feet up so that they don’t hurt to walk on anymore, alright?” He said with a smile, sitting on a chair next to the bed. He pulled a bin to his lap and put some water in it before wetting one of the towels. “I don’t want your feet to hurt anymore, I’ll be careful, I promise,” he hummed, gently pulling one of Icarus’ feet over and setting it gently in the pan of water.

He started to gently wipe the dirt off of the other’s foot, gently pulling any rocks or thorns he found out.

“Icarus, the Angel that flew too close to the sun...” Junsu whispered mostly to himself, eyes sad as he thought about it. What exactly had this boy gone through to be called that?

"No, no," he whimpered desperately, an uncoordinated hand moving to grip the front of Junsu’s shirt. The wings were small, barely the span of his narrow shoulders, but they were obvious as they slid out of the hidden tracks in his back and opened up.  Soft white feathers brushed against Junsu’s upper arm.  "They follow me, they know, they’ll come.  The wings…  they tell them…"

He buried his face in Junsu’s shoulder, a violent shudder going through the entirety of his tiny body.  Absolute terror had taken over, but it had nowhere to go with a vessel so weakened.  He couldn’t hear the people anymore.  All he could hear was Junsu’s soft voice.  Where were they going?  The lights and colours were becoming less intense.

"Icarus… Icarus is me."

Junsu blinked as he heard the other refer to himself as Icarus. There was always that chance that he was the actual Icarus from legend. Junsu had seen so many things that were so far from what was considered normal to believe that something like that could not be true.

And yet something told him that it was not actually this boy’s name. For now, however, it would work.

“Icarus. It is such a sad thing to be called...” He commented softly, pushing into the medical tent. He thought of placing the boy on the medical table, but something told him to move into the back of the tent to the sectioned off cots instead. He did so and placed the boy down on one of the soft mattresses gently, making sure not to bed his wings.

Junsu placed a hand on the boy’s cheek. A warm light emitted from between his hand and the boy’s cheek. As his hand was pulled away, the skin was smooth and unbroken. He opened up the curtain so that the boy could see him as he moved away and grabbed a bottle of water amd a bag of chocolate cookies from inside drawers. When one was weak, Junsu generally found that sweets and chocolate were the best quick fix. He could get real food later.

To him it felt like already the hundredth time that he checked the watch that he was holding in his right hand, arm outstretched in front of him, looking up at it from his lying position while he was comfortably sprawled out on his cot in his tent. He was all ready, all set to head out, a bit too early as always. But Junsu will be late, his only thought as he watched the seconds tick; there were still a few minutes to the time they had agreed to meet up here, tent number three, deep red.

He honestly wouldn’t be surprised, by now he wasn’t anymore. Although when they first started befriending each other, being busy was Junsu’s only and official reason for coming late, and understandable enough, but now Yongguk very well knew that he had managed to add an inofficial one to the list — amusing enough to the male. Up to fifteen minutes, totally acceptable, and usually Junsu would arrive within this generously granted time span.

He slowly sat up, a small groan emitting from his throat as he stretched out and finally put the watch around his wrist, adjusting his glasses, he decided to wear them for his own sake and safety – the city was bright after all, even at night –, before bothering to give another short glance at the time. Two minutes.

Yongguk’s eyes shifted to the entrance of the tent, and he narrowed them a bit when he got up from his cot. He could as well wait outside now as he watched the seconds tick, cloaking his hand and wrist in dark shade like a glove so he wouldn’t keep continuously looking at the time as he walked out. Continuously checking the time made him look impatient, which he wasn’t. It was just this habit, when one would look despite knowing it can’t be much later anyway.

He didn’t bother looking at the time, until he felt that Junsu was terribly late and he couldn’t help but take another look at the watch, removing the dark shadow covering the numbers. Twenty-three minutes, late.

Yongguk pressed his lips together in thought. Maybe something had come up? Junsu was responsible for the medical tent, so it was not unlikely. Or Yongguk had been to slow thinking from the invitation, and this was actually a date, and the other didn’t know what to wear. A quiet snort left him at the thought and he shook his head, thinking of a scenario in which his friend complained about the lack of flowers—

Flowers.

The fact that his friend generally didn’t seem to be interested in anything romantic made the whole thought so much more amusing, and he wandered off the spot he was waiting in, in his mind joking about it to himself and was probably a little too amused when he picked up random flowers he could find by the side of the forest, quick-decorating them with twigs and moss. He was a fucking genius.

Yongguk came back, the “bouquet”, if one could call it that, in both his hand, attempting for it to not fall apart since he didn’t bother tying the thing together – with what would he anyway – and to his surprise, Junsu was already waiting. Already.

However, he could hardly expect what happened next. Flowers were forced into his face and Junsu nearly went cross eyed as he tried to figure out what the hell Yongguk was up to. Was he flirting? No. Yongguk had always been obviously into the female gender. Yongguk was fucking around with him, why not play back?

“I didn’t think that you would understand my invitation,” Junsu blushed lightly, graciously taking the boquet and smelling it -- though his acting skills were a bit over the top. His normal French accent was slightly thicker than usual as he batted his eyelashes at Yongguk.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, as always,” He winked. Now, Junsu wasn’t one for much physical contact, but this time he knew that he would be ok with it just for the fact that he had to somehow one up Yongguk’s awkward bouquet of flowers that he was having issues holding onto. So, Junsu took a chance and stepped forward, pressing a wet kiss against Yongguk’s cheek.

He made a face as he pulled away. “Yet you taste terrible, maybe this date was a bad idea. Have your shitty bouquet back,” Junsu laughed, throwing it straight back at Yongguk. “Seriously though, flowers? Why flowers?” He then blinked and groaned.

Tired eyes found the little boy and the woman, and he bit his lip at the sight of blood.  The gash looked painful.  This was sure to ruin their gathering if nothing was done about it…

The thought that he should be moving on, that he was waiting dangerously long, crossed his mind, and Icarus made to push himself away from the tree.  However, the man approaching the group with the injured child caught his attention, and he found himself watching in as much awe as the rest of them.

The man could do magic.  He let himself rest against the tree again as he considered this, letting the thought roll around in his mind like a rock in a tumbler.  Was he an escapee too?  Was he hiding in this place from people hunting him?  Or was he born with it?  There were so many explanations, and not a single one that he could ever confirm.

He was so focused on thinking about the man and his ability that he didn’t notice the man making his way toward him.  Icarus took a half a step back at the sound of the voice, much closer than it had been minutes prior; wide eyes set themselves on the man’s face, and a quiet whimper of fear escaped him.

"I stayed too long…" he whispered, his feet shuffling him sideways so his tiny, swaying body was hidden behind the tree.  The words were half to the stranger who spoke oddly, half to himself.  "They keep finding me and I can’t run anymore…  I’m weak…"

He was so tired… so very exhausted.  Stopping had been a mistake and it would cost him dearly, because moving had become a hundred times more difficult.  He peered around the tree at the man, his expression one of absolute heartbreak, his eyes stinging.

"I feel heavy."

They? Running? Junsu sometimes hated when his assumptions ended up correct. Running from anything frightening was not something that Junsu would wish on anyone, and running had quite obviously taken his toll on the boy who was now half hidden by the tree.

Heavy was spoken and then the boy started to fall. Junsu could no longer keep his distance, he had to act or the boy could hurt himself further. He moved forward quickly, gently wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist to hold him up. “Be calm,” Junsu whispered, his voice soothing. “Whoever they are, they will not find you here. You are safe, you are with friends now,” He assured him, leaning down and hooking an arm under the other’s knees. Slowly, he lifted him off the ground.

“Stay with me, little one,” Junsu’s accent was slightly thicker than usual because of his worry. “We will find you some food and I will heal your face and feet.” He then realised that he had not been given a name. He couldn’t continue to call the other a name by his height, could he?

Junsu hadn’t been wandering long when he heard a young child yell out in pain. A mother yelled out in fright and without thinking, he found himself running to the site. Something had fallen on the child and had cut open a good portion of the child’s leg. Blood ran down the light skin and the mother was panicking, asking around if there was a doctor.

“Ma’am, would you mind if I looked at it? I am the doctor here,” Junsu smiled at the woman and her son, moving to the sobbing boy. “Shh now, you’ll be ok,” He soothed, sitting on the ground and taking the child into his lap to calm him. The boy grabbed onto his shirt and he hummed softly as he placed his hand gently over the wound. The kid went from crying to staring in awe as the area between Junsu’s hand and his leg started to grow.

“Its warm.. but it itches..” The child commented as everyone that surrounded them watched. The skin began to slowly knit itself back together and the bleeding slowly stopped. It only took a few moments for the wound to heal itself, before Junsu took some wet wipes from his bag and slowly wiped away the blood. “Woah.”

“Thank you so much, but how..?” the mother asked, jaw slightly slack as the kid jumped off of Junsu and jumped up and down, testing his newly healed leg.

“Years of practice,” Junsu responded simply, the mysterious smile on his face never fading. The mother gathered the kid into her arms and began to scold him, yet Junsu’s attention had already been called elsewhere.

The form of a young man was leaned against a tree. It wouldn’t have caught his attention if not for what he was wearing. His clothes were white, yet tattered and dirty like he was running from something. The expression on his face was exhausted, his face was scraped and his feet were bare and in bad condition. And yet the look of hesitation and fear on his face made Junsu know that this was an interaction that had to be thought out carefully.

The blonde leader pushed himself from the ground and gathered his things, making his way slowly towards where the young man was standing. Several people stopped to compliment him on what he had done or ask him questions, and he took his time to respond to each of them with a smile while making sure to keep an eye on the male that had so easily caught his attention.

Jeongmin looked down and then back up and Junsu he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I really can’t.” He breathed out. “I’ve been keeping it in for a long time. I can’t let it out.” Jeongmin breathed again he was shaking a little, it wasn’t cold it was the tension, it was him trying to keep everything in knowing it was just dying to get out. He knew he had to tell someone but he couldn’t. Jeongmin closed his eyes letting one tear run down his face. 

He took another breath. He tried to keep this all together, he didn’t want to cry. Not now. not now when he was so close to telling Junsu. “I have a secret” Jeongmin said softly, bringing his knees up to his chest. “And there is nothing you can do to help me. It’s not something that can be fixed or changed.” Jeongmin breathed out. 

It did not surprise Junsu that Jeongmin was holding in secrets. Most of the members of the circus were running from something. Junsu had been there half of his life, yet his family had still been running when they had joined in France. He knew of the past that Fei was running from and Dara had explained her situation to him in full when she had come back. Jeongmin wasn’t alone, and yet Junsu had no way to tell him that.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be fixed or changed, maybe you just need to learn to accept it,” Junsu suggested, his own fingers interlocking on his lap. His eyes searched Jeongmin’s face, looking for some sort of reaction, anything to give away that Junsu might be right. “Sometimes you need to tell someone to make whatever secret it is bearable. Getting things off your chest is proven to make one get rid of some of what is weighing down on them. Jeongmin. I am your healer and I am your ringmaster. If you think I don’t care about you, you are very wrong.”