One beautiful kaleidescope
Title: With the Sun (Chp 2)
Author: anoukinparis
Pairing: YunJae/YooSu (minor)
Genre: Drama/Romance
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Love has a way of doing lots of strange things. Love made Yoochun and Junsu adopt a baby girl. Love made Jae take her in after the terrible accident. But most importantly, love pulled Yunho into his life again.
A/N: thank you to everyone who's read ^^ you guys are the best yunjae forever
Jaejoong remembered a funeral.
He remembered lots of people in a shuffling swirl of black. He remembered hugging and shaking hands. He remembered staring at the white flowers surrounding the two caskets, large droopy petals around yellow cores, and thinking that Yoochun probably would have laughed at their dismal appearance. Junsu had liked blue and purple. And he remembered thinking that those colors would have looked much better.
Had liked. He remembered stumbling over tenses many, many times.
Jaejoong remembered sitting between the two of them. Knees pressed tight on a bench and even though the church was small and stuffy Jaejoong didn't remember that at all. He only remembered them, and the world that the three of them shared, and how it felt unusually spacious in that instant. Exposed. It was the first time he had ever tasted loneliness. A loneliness that seemed incurable and deep in his body, too deep for him to even try and take a glimpse at it.
He remembered thinking about what it meant to be dead.
He remembered Changmin's face when their names sounded against the curved walls, rolling like thunder and striking all three like a slap in the face. He remembered looking at the tight mouth and knowing that Changmin would never really be a kid again.
He remembered Yunho's hand touching the back of his own.
And he remembered holding it like there was nothing else to hold onto.
Jaejoong remembered the end of a funeral.
He remembered more people in a shuffling swirl of black. Murmuring condolences and whispering apologies and making polite little footsteps as they left but none of that would give him Yoochun's smile or Junsu's laugh back.
He remembered light filtering through stained glass windows and the color shattering across his vision and wondering still what it meant to be dead. Wondering if somewhere, in some way Yoochun and Junsu were still together, bickering like they always did, coming back to each other like they always did and the colors blurred into one beautiful kaleidescope and Jaejoong cried for the first time that entire day because it hurt even worse not to.
He remembered seeing their parents outside. He remembered wanting to run away but Yunho's hand kept him and Changmin's tight mouth was saying things he couldn't really understand but he nodded along anyway.
He remembered Junsu's mother holding him last. He remembered her smooth hair against his cheek and the rhythm of her dry sobs and the words she pressed to his ear over and over again. Words that didn't make sense to him.
Thank you.
Jaejoong remembered her little black dress. A look much too somber on her impatient limbs, small tendrils of hair escaping her braid and tossing in the wind. He remembered watching Yunho's patience with it before. Slow, steady fingers.
He remembered picturing that in that somewhere, some way world he hoped was as real as this world, Yoochun was smiling and giving a nod of approval.
He remembered how much he wanted them to be happy even though it made no sense at all. Just be happy. Together. It didn't seem like too much to ask.
Jaejoong remembered a car ride home. The road looked flat and empty in front of him.
But mostly, he remembered wanting to forget.
Thank you.
~
“Why isn't he waking up yet?”
Jaejoong was grateful for pillowah and the way he drowned out the world to quiet little muffles, muffles he didn't have any energy to deal with right now. Body stiff in places that weren't stiff before, and he shut his eyes tight as he flexed his hand experimentally. Bad decision.
“See! He moved!” Something prodded Jaejoong's hand not once, not twice, but three times (He moved! He moved!) and he was just on the verge of waving the nuisance away, too exhausted to care, when a different muffle sounded. Much deeper under his downy barricade.
“Shh, not so loud. Adults like to sleep, remember?”
Jaejoong groaned. No more remembering. Remembering was overrated. Why remember when you could drown in a comforting bed and never have to move or think at all?
“But he moved,” the first voice whined. “That means he's awake.”
“Hm...you think?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, go poke him some more.”
Touches assaulted Jaejoong's hand, this time growing feistier as they slapped his wrist gently and pulled on fingers, moving to his mussed hair and feeling it experimentally. Moving to the stud in his ear, and the touches grew curious then, softer. Eventually settling on his cheek, lingering on the back of his neck before finally pulling away. He wasn't sure when the owner of those touches had changed but the warmth that left goosebumps across his neck had nothing to do with a little girl. His cocoon of blankets gave a soft tremble.
“Smart girl. He is awake.”
Shut up, Jaejoong wanted to tell him. You don't know anything.
“Just give him some time. Hey, you find your shoes and I'll help him get up, okay? I think they're in the kitchen.”
Jaejoong could practically hear the distraction in the scampering feet, all the movement just making him want to curl up even more. He knew it was useless and he knew it was childish but for just a few more hours god please he didn't want to have to face reality; he wanted to slip back into sleep and let it take him wherever it wanted. The only time he felt comfortable letting go of control.
Another groan. This time coming from his bed as a different weight pressed down on it, and Jaejoong didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was.
“I'm not awake,” he protested weakly.
“That might work on a four year old, but not me.”
“That's because you know my body too damn well.”
Yunho laughed but the sound was dry. Nothing like the smooth, warm muffle from before. Jaejoong found that he missed it. “I know you.”
And that was when Jaejoong finally turned, the rustle of sheets and skin loud in the silence as he pulled his face out from pillowah and flopped down on his back, facing him. It was strange. Yunho was already dressed. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding Jaejoong's gaze and keeping his voice warm for Ae Cha and showing his face to the world when Jaejoong wanted nothing more than to sleep and fall into that somewhere, some way world so he could just see them again, just one more time.
Jaejoong barely shook his head. “How are you still functioning?” he choked out in a very small voice.
He watched as Yunho shrugged a tired shoulder, the gesture weighed down with too many things Jaejoong never wanted the other to bear.
“Because I have to,” he said, and it was just like him. Taking the lead while Jaejoong fisted the sheets and buried himself away. Taking the lead even though it hurt him and the look in his eyes said he wanted to bury himself away just as well.
Shut up, he wanted to tell him. You shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to anymore.
It was the first time Jaejoong had even looked Yunho straight in the eyes since the funeral. It almost felt like the shattering color of the glass window. Too much to take all at once. Jaejoong pulled pillowah tight to his chest. Cradling it with restless fingers and shaking breaths as Yunho shifted closer.
“You need to get dressed.”
Pause. Nothing.
“Jaejoongie, you need to get up and get-”
“Don't call me that,” he snapped, voice still quivering but the edges were hard and pained. The bitterness welling up so tight so fast even pillowah irked him and he would have shoved it away if it weren't for two little feet bounding back into the room, making the atmosphere shift all over again. Instantaneous.
“I found my shoooes,” she announced proudly, but Jaejoong had already turned away, feeling the blurriness coming back. He shouldn't be acting like this. He should be functioning. Because he had to. Because he didn't want Yunho to. Because it was right.
“Ah, you found my shoes.” Jaejoong couldn't really hear the words anymore. It was easing to another low muffle and the sound of it was soothing in the way that only Yunho's voice could be. The colors fading to velvety darkness and the throbbing in his heart subsided, like a warm hand was easing away all the bad things and telling him that everything would be okay. (Not empty words anymore.) Even if he didn't believe them they would be nice to sink into.
“Well, I like yours better so I switched.”
“Hm. Would those fit you?”
It was a strange lullaby, but Jaejoong cozied up to it. All the sounds were beginning to blur into one.
Thank you.
“Yuyu, is he awake yet?”
Guess parenting just comes naturally.
Mr. Kim?
Yunho's hand lifted from the back of his neck, the pads of his fingers brushing against skin.
“He needs some more time, I think. Come on, I'll take you to your class.”
And then the lullaby faded into the darkness as well.
~
One day passed.
Two passed.
On the third Jaejoong opened his eyes blearily and sent a wary look to the rays of sunlight barely filtering through his window. His mouth tasted dry. He forgot he had legs for a vague, terrifying moment and nearly stumbled to the floor in a pile of limbs and blankets as he made use of his body once again.
His bedroom bathed in blue shadows and Jaejoong slipped into his frog-eyed slippers before tiptoeing quietly to his door.
The first thing he did was chug four glasses of water. Not even bothering with the lights as he stood in front of the sink, soft gasps emitting from his lips. Tongue peeking out absentmindedly as the wheels in his drowsy head shook off the dust and the cobwebs.
Sleeping hadn't changed a thing. He still remembered.
And then he walked into the living room and saw Yunho wearing his old sweatpants. Palm against the side of his cheek, leaning on the armrest of the couch as Ae Cha breathed slowly and evenly in his lap. Soft laughter peeled from the TV.
The next thing he did was sit down next to Yunho. Pulling his knees up to his chest, a few hesitant fingers reaching to smooth down her hair, gently pushing a few strands behind her ear. He had seem his mom do that with his sisters countless times.
“I'm sorry.”
Yunho didn't need to ask for what because he already knew the answer. He already knew Jaejoong would be coming back and he already knew that he wouldn't try to beat around the bush once he did because it was just like him. He just needed time.
The only part that Yunho could comfortably turn was his head, and his eyes were quiet and thoughtful on Jaejoong's averted pair.
“Just promise me you'll get dressed tomorrow.”
Jaejoong continued to stroke her fine hair, giving some noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Why?”
“Because I promised her we'd take her shopping.”
Not so much a smile but we curled the corners of Jaejoong's lips.
“You're such a pushover.”
“Don't pretend you don't want to go. I know you.”
And even though he still didn't know whether or not to believe it, for Jaejoong, those words and that laugh were a very real everything will be okay.
~
Author: anoukinparis
Pairing: YunJae/YooSu (minor)
Genre: Drama/Romance
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Love has a way of doing lots of strange things. Love made Yoochun and Junsu adopt a baby girl. Love made Jae take her in after the terrible accident. But most importantly, love pulled Yunho into his life again.
A/N: thank you to everyone who's read ^^ you guys are the best yunjae forever
Jaejoong remembered a funeral.
He remembered lots of people in a shuffling swirl of black. He remembered hugging and shaking hands. He remembered staring at the white flowers surrounding the two caskets, large droopy petals around yellow cores, and thinking that Yoochun probably would have laughed at their dismal appearance. Junsu had liked blue and purple. And he remembered thinking that those colors would have looked much better.
Had liked. He remembered stumbling over tenses many, many times.
Jaejoong remembered sitting between the two of them. Knees pressed tight on a bench and even though the church was small and stuffy Jaejoong didn't remember that at all. He only remembered them, and the world that the three of them shared, and how it felt unusually spacious in that instant. Exposed. It was the first time he had ever tasted loneliness. A loneliness that seemed incurable and deep in his body, too deep for him to even try and take a glimpse at it.
He remembered thinking about what it meant to be dead.
He remembered Changmin's face when their names sounded against the curved walls, rolling like thunder and striking all three like a slap in the face. He remembered looking at the tight mouth and knowing that Changmin would never really be a kid again.
He remembered Yunho's hand touching the back of his own.
And he remembered holding it like there was nothing else to hold onto.
Jaejoong remembered the end of a funeral.
He remembered more people in a shuffling swirl of black. Murmuring condolences and whispering apologies and making polite little footsteps as they left but none of that would give him Yoochun's smile or Junsu's laugh back.
He remembered light filtering through stained glass windows and the color shattering across his vision and wondering still what it meant to be dead. Wondering if somewhere, in some way Yoochun and Junsu were still together, bickering like they always did, coming back to each other like they always did and the colors blurred into one beautiful kaleidescope and Jaejoong cried for the first time that entire day because it hurt even worse not to.
He remembered seeing their parents outside. He remembered wanting to run away but Yunho's hand kept him and Changmin's tight mouth was saying things he couldn't really understand but he nodded along anyway.
He remembered Junsu's mother holding him last. He remembered her smooth hair against his cheek and the rhythm of her dry sobs and the words she pressed to his ear over and over again. Words that didn't make sense to him.
Thank you.
Jaejoong remembered her little black dress. A look much too somber on her impatient limbs, small tendrils of hair escaping her braid and tossing in the wind. He remembered watching Yunho's patience with it before. Slow, steady fingers.
He remembered picturing that in that somewhere, some way world he hoped was as real as this world, Yoochun was smiling and giving a nod of approval.
He remembered how much he wanted them to be happy even though it made no sense at all. Just be happy. Together. It didn't seem like too much to ask.
Jaejoong remembered a car ride home. The road looked flat and empty in front of him.
But mostly, he remembered wanting to forget.
Thank you.
~
“Why isn't he waking up yet?”
Jaejoong was grateful for pillowah and the way he drowned out the world to quiet little muffles, muffles he didn't have any energy to deal with right now. Body stiff in places that weren't stiff before, and he shut his eyes tight as he flexed his hand experimentally. Bad decision.
“See! He moved!” Something prodded Jaejoong's hand not once, not twice, but three times (He moved! He moved!) and he was just on the verge of waving the nuisance away, too exhausted to care, when a different muffle sounded. Much deeper under his downy barricade.
“Shh, not so loud. Adults like to sleep, remember?”
Jaejoong groaned. No more remembering. Remembering was overrated. Why remember when you could drown in a comforting bed and never have to move or think at all?
“But he moved,” the first voice whined. “That means he's awake.”
“Hm...you think?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, go poke him some more.”
Touches assaulted Jaejoong's hand, this time growing feistier as they slapped his wrist gently and pulled on fingers, moving to his mussed hair and feeling it experimentally. Moving to the stud in his ear, and the touches grew curious then, softer. Eventually settling on his cheek, lingering on the back of his neck before finally pulling away. He wasn't sure when the owner of those touches had changed but the warmth that left goosebumps across his neck had nothing to do with a little girl. His cocoon of blankets gave a soft tremble.
“Smart girl. He is awake.”
Shut up, Jaejoong wanted to tell him. You don't know anything.
“Just give him some time. Hey, you find your shoes and I'll help him get up, okay? I think they're in the kitchen.”
Jaejoong could practically hear the distraction in the scampering feet, all the movement just making him want to curl up even more. He knew it was useless and he knew it was childish but for just a few more hours god please he didn't want to have to face reality; he wanted to slip back into sleep and let it take him wherever it wanted. The only time he felt comfortable letting go of control.
Another groan. This time coming from his bed as a different weight pressed down on it, and Jaejoong didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was.
“I'm not awake,” he protested weakly.
“That might work on a four year old, but not me.”
“That's because you know my body too damn well.”
Yunho laughed but the sound was dry. Nothing like the smooth, warm muffle from before. Jaejoong found that he missed it. “I know you.”
And that was when Jaejoong finally turned, the rustle of sheets and skin loud in the silence as he pulled his face out from pillowah and flopped down on his back, facing him. It was strange. Yunho was already dressed. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding Jaejoong's gaze and keeping his voice warm for Ae Cha and showing his face to the world when Jaejoong wanted nothing more than to sleep and fall into that somewhere, some way world so he could just see them again, just one more time.
Jaejoong barely shook his head. “How are you still functioning?” he choked out in a very small voice.
He watched as Yunho shrugged a tired shoulder, the gesture weighed down with too many things Jaejoong never wanted the other to bear.
“Because I have to,” he said, and it was just like him. Taking the lead while Jaejoong fisted the sheets and buried himself away. Taking the lead even though it hurt him and the look in his eyes said he wanted to bury himself away just as well.
Shut up, he wanted to tell him. You shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to anymore.
It was the first time Jaejoong had even looked Yunho straight in the eyes since the funeral. It almost felt like the shattering color of the glass window. Too much to take all at once. Jaejoong pulled pillowah tight to his chest. Cradling it with restless fingers and shaking breaths as Yunho shifted closer.
“You need to get dressed.”
Pause. Nothing.
“Jaejoongie, you need to get up and get-”
“Don't call me that,” he snapped, voice still quivering but the edges were hard and pained. The bitterness welling up so tight so fast even pillowah irked him and he would have shoved it away if it weren't for two little feet bounding back into the room, making the atmosphere shift all over again. Instantaneous.
“I found my shoooes,” she announced proudly, but Jaejoong had already turned away, feeling the blurriness coming back. He shouldn't be acting like this. He should be functioning. Because he had to. Because he didn't want Yunho to. Because it was right.
“Ah, you found my shoes.” Jaejoong couldn't really hear the words anymore. It was easing to another low muffle and the sound of it was soothing in the way that only Yunho's voice could be. The colors fading to velvety darkness and the throbbing in his heart subsided, like a warm hand was easing away all the bad things and telling him that everything would be okay. (Not empty words anymore.) Even if he didn't believe them they would be nice to sink into.
“Well, I like yours better so I switched.”
“Hm. Would those fit you?”
It was a strange lullaby, but Jaejoong cozied up to it. All the sounds were beginning to blur into one.
Thank you.
“Yuyu, is he awake yet?”
Guess parenting just comes naturally.
Mr. Kim?
Yunho's hand lifted from the back of his neck, the pads of his fingers brushing against skin.
“He needs some more time, I think. Come on, I'll take you to your class.”
And then the lullaby faded into the darkness as well.
~
One day passed.
Two passed.
On the third Jaejoong opened his eyes blearily and sent a wary look to the rays of sunlight barely filtering through his window. His mouth tasted dry. He forgot he had legs for a vague, terrifying moment and nearly stumbled to the floor in a pile of limbs and blankets as he made use of his body once again.
His bedroom bathed in blue shadows and Jaejoong slipped into his frog-eyed slippers before tiptoeing quietly to his door.
The first thing he did was chug four glasses of water. Not even bothering with the lights as he stood in front of the sink, soft gasps emitting from his lips. Tongue peeking out absentmindedly as the wheels in his drowsy head shook off the dust and the cobwebs.
Sleeping hadn't changed a thing. He still remembered.
And then he walked into the living room and saw Yunho wearing his old sweatpants. Palm against the side of his cheek, leaning on the armrest of the couch as Ae Cha breathed slowly and evenly in his lap. Soft laughter peeled from the TV.
The next thing he did was sit down next to Yunho. Pulling his knees up to his chest, a few hesitant fingers reaching to smooth down her hair, gently pushing a few strands behind her ear. He had seem his mom do that with his sisters countless times.
“I'm sorry.”
Yunho didn't need to ask for what because he already knew the answer. He already knew Jaejoong would be coming back and he already knew that he wouldn't try to beat around the bush once he did because it was just like him. He just needed time.
The only part that Yunho could comfortably turn was his head, and his eyes were quiet and thoughtful on Jaejoong's averted pair.
“Just promise me you'll get dressed tomorrow.”
Jaejoong continued to stroke her fine hair, giving some noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Why?”
“Because I promised her we'd take her shopping.”
Not so much a smile but we curled the corners of Jaejoong's lips.
“You're such a pushover.”
“Don't pretend you don't want to go. I know you.”
And even though he still didn't know whether or not to believe it, for Jaejoong, those words and that laugh were a very real everything will be okay.
~