in the dark
Title: in the dark
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Homin
Genre: AU
Summary: Some people light a fire under you. Some people just want to watch you burn. As usual, Yunho is drawn to a flame.
The fields at his back are quiet and alive, wind laying the tall grass down in gentle, rolling waves. The moon is new, and the stars shine more vibrantly out here in the city outskirts. His lungs chill as he sets his sights on the dilapidated barn across the way.
It’s a beautiful night for a fire.
There’s a spark, just a little one. The match doesn’t light. Yunho strikes it again, and it grows into a tiny flame that wavers on the match. He feeds it a piece of hay, holding it like an insect as it crawls up the stalk. It relaxes him, puts a smile on his face.
He’s watching its slow climb when the distant crunch of gravel sends a jolt of alertness up his spine. He clamps a hand around the flame and ducks behind a bush. His hand stings a little where the flame died, but he ignores it and tries to peek through the leaves.
Someone’s making their way down the gravel path, steps careless and drifting. Yunho’s nerves sizzle when he tries to pick out their shape through the dark.
All he can determine after half a minute and too many steps towards him is that it’s a guy- skinny legs and broad shoulders, with fluffy hair a mess atop his head. There's a backpack or something slung over his shoulder.
The guy stops a few meters from Yunho’s hiding place, looking around like he’s lost. Yunho narrows his eyes when he realizes the guy is sniffing the air.
He's being paranoid. It was one match, and there’s a prevailing wind, how would anyone smell the evidence of such a tiny burn?
The guy digs a toe into the gravel. Yunho scrutinizes him, trying to judge the trouble in his slouch, figure out if he’s a threat. The wind rustles the leaves around and above him, and the guy’s hair flutters around his face.
Yunho licks his lips in anticipation as he turns in his direction for one fleeting moment- then continues on his way.
He’s heading toward the barn. Yunho waits until a big gust of wind sends the trees into a rattle before he moves. He darts through the treeline and keeps the guy in his sight.
The guy takes something out of his backpack. He starts moving back and forth, with big quick steps, shaking something in his hand. Yunho realizes it's a bottle- he’s emptying it all over the walls. Afterwards, he steps back and rummages through his bag again. Yunho squints in an attempt to see better.
There’s a flicker in the guy’s hands, just for a second. Then it grows into a little flame, and Yunho forgets his stealth as he comes closer. He can see now- a lighter glints in the glow of a molotov quickly being eaten by a miniature blaze.
The flames lick up the rag, and both the guy and Yunho are motionless, transfixed. Yunho is frozen, staring at the edge of gold against a high cheekbone. The guy’s face is obscured by the angle, but his hands are steady as he slowly lowers the bottle to the foundation of the barn.
It’s a good start. The guy backs away and knocks into Yunho. He panics when Yunho grabs his shoulders absentmindedly, too fixated on the flames burning away at the rotting wood.
Yunho holds on to the guy’s arm, pulling him back when he tries to run. He forces him to stay still, and finally he seems to understand. They move back together, watching the flames envelop the barn until it’s a roaring inferno.
Yunho gets a good look at the guy when they turn to each other.
He’s lost when he does.
Yunho has the early shift. He heads to the public pool to spend his day blowing his whistle at swimmers and tracing patterns on the tiled walls. He’s tired, but he cheerfully greets a class of rowdy kindergarteners, ready for their swim class.
He settles on his stand and rubs his temples. The guy from last night lurks in the back of his mind like a nightmare. Dark eyes bore into him from shady corners, flickering in the light of a burning rag and erratic reflections from the bottom of the pool.
They hadn’t said anything to each other as the barn burned. The guy had just stilled, melting Yunho’s hold on his arm from controlling to comforting- a shared presence, a shared experience in the heat of a fire they had both wanted to set. Lights appeared a long way down the road, and they both ran into the forest before separating. Yunho had torn through the trees and bushes, branches and leaves whipping at his face and neck and leaving stinging scratches on his skin.
He remembers the last sight of the guy- wild and intent, a flash of something strong between the trees before Yunho turned his focus back to his own escape.
What remained of the night after was long and restless. He thought about the fire. He thought about the kind of person who would set a fire like that- gasoline, a rag. It’s a risky starter, because of the potential for residue.
He thought about why that kind of person might set a fire.
The guy was probably nothing special. Just another punk trying to burn away their small troubles.
But he follows Yunho anyways, glaring from between swimmers’ faces, waiting in the space behind the guard stand, watching Yunho from beneath the surface of the water.
The next time he sees the guy, it's at a summer festival, a little community affair with food carts and contests. He's with his little sister and her friends, trailing behind like a lost child while they speak in code. He looks up and there he is, leaning against a fence, breathtakingly out of place in the bright sun.
There’s nothing especially unusual about him, really- but there’s an undercurrent of wrongness, a tension in his stance that hints at something more. A pair of aviator sunglasses slip down his nose as he slowly pulls a red popsicle from his lips. Yunho can't help but stare at it, and his knee length cutoffs, and the bit of skin that peeks out from his sleeveless hoodie. The picture he makes is too perfect, too normal, as if he's chosen everything according to some catalog.
He's also looking directly at Yunho. A sullen moodiness falls across his face, and the popsicle pops from his mouth, leaving his lips red and shiny.
Yunho can't remember how to smile. The guy tilts his head.
His sister and her friends are long gone, enamored with the cotton candy stand. Yunho swallows his pride and saunters over to the fence, hoping he looks cooler than he feels.
He chooses to keep some distance between them- enough that to anyone passing by, they would just look like strangers.
Which they are.
Yunho adjusts his sunglasses. He’s not a timid person, but the guy exudes such a compelling aura that it’s hard to think straight.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick the same place as me,” Yunho says. It’s vague. An invitation.
He learns the guy’s name over a sizzling grill and a few drinks too many for a week night. Shim Changmin is a man of few words, preferring instead to nod yes or no as he stuffs his face with food.
That’s okay, because Yunho doesn’t have much to say to him. The things he really wants to know aren’t suitable for conversation in a crowded restaurant, so he settles for staking out his territory on the grill.
When the night gets a little too long, Yunho stretches and yawns. Changmin doesn’t get the hint, sipping his drink and keeping that intense gaze fixed on Yunho. Yunho gives up trying to be subtle.
“I’m gonna call it a night,” Yunho says, leaning forward over his knees and returning Changmin’s stare up close and personal. Changmin doesn’t move back.
“You should too. It’s a school night, isn’t it, student?”
Changmin finally breaks eye contact.
“Should I be worried you know more about me than I’ve told you?” he asks.
“I saw your school I.D. on your bag.”
“I’m majoring in nothing. I stopped after the first day.”
“Hopefully you’re not just wasting money,” Yunho says, pressing a thumb along the edge of the vinyl on the table.
“I never had it to begin with,” Changmin says with a smile that just sort of withers around his eyes.
Yunho doesn’t know nearly enough about what Changmin is, what he does, or where he comes from to make him feel better. He stands up and ruffles Changmin’s hair as he leaves.
“I work at the public pool. Come swim sometime, it’s good exercise.”
Yunho doesn't see Changmin at the pool outside of his imagination, licking popsicles and flexing golden biceps, but they meet several times by chance.
Changmin has a habit of wandering the forest like a spirit. At first, Yunho mistakes him for a stag, something dark and noisy among the trees. Yunho moves a little closer, squinting in the dim sunlight. He only realizes it’s a person when they yell in alarm and stumble back, tripping over a bush.
Yunho rushes over to help. He finds Changmin, fallen in a heap.
“H-hyung?” Changmin groans, before righting himself.
“Evening, Changmin. Planning on another late night?” Yunho notices a small box has fallen near him, wrapped in tissue. He picks it up and holds it out to Changmin.
Changmin just scowls and grabs it.
“Please tell me you’re not here for the boathouse,” Changmin says, unraveling the box to check it.
Yunho sees it’s a box of matches. He coughs and pushes his zippo deeper into his pocket.
He doesn’t want to tell Changmin he is here for the old boathouse like some kind of addict, here to check the wood and try his hardest not to send it up in flames.
“Is that your starter?” Yunho asks, and they walk through the trees, heading to the lake. “Are you doing it tonight?”
Changmin shakes his head. “Probably not. I’m just...getting a feel for it. The area. It’s pretty here,” he says, looking around at the shadowy trees. Yunho catches himself thinking ‘you’re pretty’, but steps on the thought,
“It’s also pretty easy to get caught,” Changmin continues. He turns to Yunho. “Why are you here?”
Yunho shrugs. “The same, I guess...getting a feel.”
“Are you gonna light it up?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Aren’t you going to? I should probably leave you to it.”
Changmin is silent, finger tearing a little hole in the tissue around the box.
“You don’t have to do anything because of me,” he says. “Just do what you want.”
Yunho grins at him. “It’s not like I claimed it. I’m just taking a walk.” He makes to leave, clapping Changmin on his shoulder. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“Wait.”
Yunho stops, and waits.
“I mean...I got to the barn before you, and this. Aren’t you getting annoyed?” Changmin’s not facing him, instead fidgeting with his zipper.
“I don’t mind, really, Changmin. Although, there is something I’d like.”
Changmin’s looking at him darkly, like Yunho’s going to pull a bag over his head and do something terrible.
“I’d like to talk to you about some things. Normally. During the day.”
There’s a small silence, and Yunho wonders if Changmin will run away.
“We’ll see,” Changmin says, then starts heading away through the trees. “Good night, Yunho.”
“Good night, Changmin. Stay safe.”
The next few times they see each other, Changmin keeps his distance. Yunho doesn’t burn anything for a month.
A late night with a morning shift the next day means Yunho’s close to late for work. Changmin lurks at the pool again, but this time he’s really there, no popsicle in sight. Yunho points to a lounge chair under his stand and Changmin perches on the very corner of it.
Yunho lets him wait the entire morning, and Changmin doesn’t seem bothered. He waits like he’s used to it, picking at his ripped jeans and somehow coming off as very sophisticated. Parents still glare at his faded black t-shirt and messy hair, and the dark smudges of oversleeping and exhaustion around his eyes. He returns each dirty look with a bright grin and scares them off, heads bobbing as they smile big apologetic smiles. Yunho almost laughs.
When lunchtime rolls around, he climbs down from his stand.
“The idea is to wear a swimsuit, then you can go in the water,” he says.
Changmin shrugs. “I don’t really like to swim.”
“Hm. Hungry?”
“Starving. I brought food, from my mom.” Changmin pulls a stack of lunchboxes from behind him, all tied up in a pink cloth. Yunho is thrown off for a moment, but hurries and helps Changmin set out the food on one of the poolside tables.
They don’t speak as they eat. Yunho watches Changmin, wondering what he did to warrant the lunch, and the extra drink Changmin’s brought him from the convenience store, and the company.
Changmin gives away nothing, focused on the food in front of him. He’s so impossible to read Yunho has to say something.
“Changmin. Do you like me?”
Changmin looks up with big eyes, and he swallows his food. “We have similar interests. You didn’t tell on me.” He pops a piece of pear into his mouth.
“Was the barn your first?” Yunho asks. He keeps his voice low, leaning in. Just in case.
Changmin shakes his head. “I haven’t done a lot of buildings, but I’ve been doing that since I was little.”
“...me too,” Yunho says. “I’ve been doing it for a long time. I just want to get this out of the way, but I know you won’t listen- you should stop.”
Changmin smiles. “Shouldn’t you take your own advice? Why should I listen to you?”
“I’m preparing to be a firefighter.”
Changmin’s leans back like he’s been burnt. “Fucking- are you going to turn me in, then? What, you run around pretending to like fire so you can flush out people like me?”
“I’m not- it’s not pretending. That’s not the point, I’m not going to report you. I just ...needed to try to stop you,” Yunho says. He has no idea what he’s trying to say.
It must show, because Changmin flexes his jaw and fixes a suspicious, curious gaze on Yunho.
“You’re kind of fucked up, is what I’m getting,” he says.
Yunho wipes his face with a hand, feeling warm.
“I’m not sure what I’m trying to tell you here. Just- you remind me of-”
“I remind you of yourself? You’re trying to feel better about yourself?”
“No, it’s not- you’re just, I just want to make sure you’re...you’re aware-”
“Aware of the consequences of what I’ve been doing for years. You’re trying to stop me because I’m doing what you wish you didn’t and I don’t feel half as bad about it, then when I tell you that’s shitty, and I will tell you that’s shitty, at least you can say you tried, right? Tried to fix the fucked up guy who burns stuff. Well, that’s...shitty. Of you. That’s a shitty thing to do.”
Yunho reaches a hand out weakly. He feels cornered. “Stop saying that, there’s kids here.”
”You can’t save me, Mr. Firefighter. There’s nothing to save. The thing I do...it just makes me feel good. It’s passion.”
“You’re confusing passion with adrenaline. It’ll get you caught,” Yunho says. He remembers his old friends, careless and arrogant, and remembers them screwing up their lives with 'passion'. All he wants is to stop Changmin before he makes some stupid mistake.
Changmin stands up, scooting his chair back with a loud screech against the tiles.
“When does your shift end,” he asks.
Yunho looks up, totally lost. “Uh...at three?”
“Call me. You’re coming over.”
Around three, Yunho calls the number that has somehow appeared in his phone under ‘Changmin’. Changmin wanders out from who knows where, and Yunho glances back at the pool complex, hoping Changmin didn’t decide to burn it down on a whim. When he turns back, Changmin’s got one hell of a dead-eye fixed on him, and Yunho swears he hears him mutter ‘as if’ when they continue down the street to the subway station.
Yunho doesn’t expect Changmin to lead him to a large property on the edge of the city. An elderly family estate squats on a large plot of land. A few skeletal orchards peek over the walls, and he can see the roofs of other smaller buildings. He’s impressed, but also confused.
“I didn’t peg you as a rich kid,” he says to Changmin as they climb up the steps to the front deck.
Someone snorts, and an older woman straightens up from where she was kneeling behind a half-painted bench. She almost swipes her hair with the paintbrush she’s holding.
“Rich!” she says. “Wouldn’t that be nice. No, this is inheritance in all its debt and glory, child. I hope you are not unfortunate enough to have it bestowed upon you! Changmin, who’s your guest?”
She forms her words with the same crisp enunciation Changmin does. Yunho smiles despite his burning cheeks.
“Sorry, ma’am. My name is Jung Yunho.”
“I’m Changmin’s mother,” she says, nodding. “You must have eaten well today! I’m so glad he actually brought a friend home, thank you for taking care of him.”
“My pleasure. Your cooking was delicious. Changminnie’s been helping me at my job,” Yunho lies. “I’m a lifeguard.”
“Oh my. Changmin was so excited about some mysterious stranger, he insisted upon packing a lunch. If you two are still hungry, there’s some leftovers in the fridge.”
Changmin seems very interested in the swing radius of the front door all of a sudden, and his ears are bright red. Yunho ducks his head in thanks before following Changmin inside.
The house has definitely seen its better days, but there’s obvious care taken to keep it clean and presentable. The floors are swept clean, and there’s flowers and photos set along all the tables. It’s far from whatever broken home Yunho was expecting.
“We’re not very alike after all,” Yunho comments, as Changmin leads him to the back of the house.
Changmin turns, apparently caught off guard. “What?”
Yunho nods. “I like your house. And your mom is really nice.”
“Thanks.” Changmin opens a door, revealing a dark staircase.
Yunho can’t see anything up at the top of the stairs. Everything is shadowed beyond the fourth step. He hesitates. Changmin takes a step up, then turns when he notices Yunho’s not following. He tilts his head.
“Coming up?”
Yunho reasons with himself; there’s probably a light switch right inside the doorway. It’s just Changmin’s room.
“Changmin?” his mother calls, interrupting Yunho’s thoughts.
“Yeah,” Changmin replies, walking past Yunho and giving him a strange look.
Changmin’s mother pokes her head around the corner.
“I’m sorry, I know you have company, but can you do me a favor? I need to head to work...could you finish the porch before it gets dark? The only part that’s left is the railings.”
“Sure. Do you mind, Yunho?”
Yunho smiles. “Not at all. It’ll go quickly with the two of us working on it.”
Changmin’s mother grins, eyes squinting into little crescents.
“Oh you don’t need to!” - but she seems happy, her head tilted to the side. “Such a gentleman! Please, feel free to spend the night. I’ll be back late, so it’s the least I can do.”
Changmin crosses his arm and gives Yunho a little smile from under his bangs. Yunho can’t help but feel it in his heart and cheeks.
“Shall we?”
Yunho paints lines in little triangle shapes, then fills them in with glossy white. He’s humming some non-song, since Changmin doesn’t seem to mind. Changmin’s streaking the paint brush back and forth, lazy but precise.
“Do you like music?” Changmin asks out of the blue.
Yunho nods.
“Do you play an instrument?” Changmin’s put his brush down, and he sounds genuinely curious.
“No, not really...I like to dance, though,” Yunho says.
“Oh.”
Yunho waits for Changmin to continue. When he doesn’t, Yunho tries to keep the conversation going.
“You like music?” he asks.
Changmin hasn’t started painting again. “Do you want to take a walk?” he asks. It’s completely off-topic.
Yunho glances at the railings. They’re mostly done. He guesses a break won’t hurt. It’s Changmin’s porch, anyways.
He and Changmin walk around the side of the house, then head towards the sunset through the tall weeds. Little puffs of dandelion float around them, breezing from somewhere ahead of them. It turns out to be a long-dead garden, almost every plot full of fluffy weeds.
Changmin finally says something. “I like music. A lot. I like jazz guitar. I think it’s cool that you can dance, I’ve never done that.”
“And I’ve never played guitar...you planning to be a rockstar, Changmin?”
Changmin snorts, and his hand bumps against Yunho’s a bit.
“Yeah right. I can barely play. And there’s no way I can afford school or lessons.”
Yunho doesn’t push.
It gets darker and darker. Yunho ignores his heightening nerves- he hates the dark. It makes him want to light something up, just to chase the darkness away. He sticks even closer to Changmin.
“You’re gonna step on me if you get any closer,” he says.
“Sorry. It’s hard to see.” It’s not a complete lie.
They come to a stop in front of the oldest stable Yunho’s ever seen.
“I like to come here to...think,” Changmin explains. “Or maybe to stop thinking.”
They end up laying on scattered piles of hay in a rickety loft of the stable. Through the broken rafters, the moon shines through. Changmin gives Yunho a cigarette, and they take turns blowing smoke rings.
Changmin keeps clicking a lighter, letting the flame go on and off.
“My dad would never let me go into music,” Changmin says softly.
Yunho breathes out his smoke in a plume.
“He never comes home. He stays at work all day. I’m not a son he can be proud of. He hates the house, because it’s just dragging our family down. It’s a terrible house. I wish I could burn it.”
“That’s not the best idea,” Yunho asks, trying not to sound judgmental.
“No, I guess not...sometimes I just wish I could get stuck inside. Burn up.”
Yunho props himself up, frowning. “Hey…”
“It’s not that I want to die,” Changmin says.
Yunho feels a strange sense of dread thinking of a world without this boy he barely knows.
“It’s that I don’t know what I’m living for.”
The conversation flounders, and Changmin gets up not long into the silence, climbing down the ladder without a word. Yunho follows him quickly, ignoring the shivers where the darkness looms at his back. He has to take big steps to catch up with Changmin, and they emerge into the garden. He lunges and grabs Changmin’s hand.
“Wait,” he says. “Make a wish.”
Changmin looks at him like he’s lost it. A piece of fluff lands on his hair. “What?”
Yunho gestures to a little plot of dandelions, luminescent under the moonlight. “Make a wish. You have a whole field of wishes here- enough for years of wishing.”
Changmin stares at Yunho, before turning to consider the field. “Uh. I…”
He seems younger when he’s not speaking, no spiky words or troubled thoughts spilling out.
“I’ve never had a field of wishes before,” he says, so quiet and soft Yunho can barely catch it.
“I borrowed one,” Yunho says with a smile. “We’ll have to see if it comes true.”
Changmin turns a questioning look to Yunho.
“What was your wish?”
“Not telling, or it won’t come true!” Yunho slaps Changmin on the back. “Come on, quick, make a wish before they all blow away.”
Changmin frowns and tilts his head.
“Okay. I did. But you’re the only one who can make it come true.”
Yunho heart leaps into his throat. It’s becoming clear his body has been harboring some opinions about Changmin.
“W-what?”
Changmin grabs his hand. “Can you give me a side-cut?”
Yunho’s never felt his expectations plummet quite so abruptly. “I...uh, what?”
“A side-cut. As in, a hair cut. I want you to fix my hair. I’m feeling like I need a change. For once,” Changmin says. He’s smiling at Yunho and Yunho’s brain catches up with his body.
It’s in the hollows of Changmin’s cheekbones, in the way he held a popsicle in his mouth, in the corner of his lips and the curve of long eyelashes and strong arms in hot sun.
Changmin’s burning into him.
Shaving down someone else’s hair is terrifying. Yunho has no idea what he’s doing in Changmin’s bathroom, egged on by Changmin himself- ‘short on the one side and back, but not any higher than here. Then we’ll just let the rest go, it’ll be cool’.
“Does it look good,” Changmin asks, like they aren’t right in front of a mirror.
Changmin could wear a dead cat on his head and still look good to Yunho, but Yunho doesn’t say anything, just frowns.
“You can’t blame this on me if it doesn’t,” he warns, pulling little locks of hair from Changmin’s fringe to check the length. He ruffles it, pushing the hair back with his fingers. Changmin’s head tilts back a bit, and he gazes up at Yunho curiously.
“But it does,” Yunho finishes, clicking off the razor.
Changmin grins up at him, then pulls and pushes at his hair in the mirror. “It looks so good,” he says, turning his head back and forth. “How about you?”
“No thanks, my wish was a little different,” Yunho mutters.
He wraps the cord around the razor and stows it in a drawer.
When he looks up at the mirror, Changmin’s fixed his eyes on him, dark and questioning.
“Let’s just say I’m not in a rush,” Yunho says.
They both take showers, and Yunho sits outside the bathroom while he waits for Changmin to come out, pulling absentmindedly on his hair.
Changmin’s room isn’t hard to climb up to after being in the dark stable. Changmin pulls a string and a dim light flickers on, illuminating a small attic room. It’s loud the way Changmin isn’t, with music posters plastering the walls and books packed into well-tested shelves. It’s cozy too, warm and sweet-smelling. Little sticks of incense stick from random crevices, the ashes smeared black on the worn wooden floorboards.
Yunho sets down the tupperwares of food they’ve scavenged from the fridge. Changmin settles on the floor, and Yunho sits beside him.
The best thing about Changmin’s room is the big window. It gives them a perfect view of the fields in the night, and the moon that rises slowly above.
“There’s so many stars out here in the dark,” Yunho marvels.
“Yeah, it’s nice. I guess that’s the one good thing about this house,” Changmin says.
“Normally, that bothers me,” Yunho says.
“Hm?”
“The dark. I hate it.”
Changmin swallows his food. “You’re afraid of the dark? That...you don’t seem like you would be.”
Yunho laughs, sipping some of his water. “Yeah, my weakness. I’m better now, but sometimes...I just hate the idea of what’s there. The idea of something waiting.”
“I’m sorry, I made you stay in the stable before.”
“Nah, it’s...well, it’s a little easier to forget with you.”
Changmin’s eyes flash, and they snap to Yunho. “What? Why?”
Yunho leans close. “Guess you’re kind of like a fire. You smell like smoke, you spit flames.”
“Pfft, I guess I’m pretty hot, too?” Changmin grins and pushes Yunho back.
“That’s exactly it! Stay with me, Changminnie, the darkness is coming!”
Yunho doesn’t remember much else, just waking up to bright sunlight burning up his face and Changmin’s hot breath burning up his sleeve. They’re sprawled on the floor, and it kind of hurts. He’s not sure if he should move Changmin, so he dozes off again. When he wakes up, Changmin’s gone and he can hear clattering pans from the kitchen.
Yunho regularly meets Changmin after work and during lunch now, and he notices Changmin’s stopped wearing wrinkled band t-shirts and hoodies- now he shows up in his leather jacket and tight pants, blazers and shirts that look new. Yunho doesn’t mention it, but compliments Changmin on his outfits and enjoys the smiles it gets.
He starts dressing up a bit as well, just enough to make people double-take when he and Changmin go out to get coffee.
He hopes they can’t help but notice how good they look together.
There’s a power outage that comes with the stormy season. It’s late enough to plunge Yunho’s apartment into darkness, but early enough that he has no hope of going to sleep.
It’s embarrassing, but he calls Changmin on his cellphone, leaning on his balcony and trying to ignore the dark room behind him.
“Hello?” Changmin’s voice help him relax a tiny bit.
“Is the power out there?” Yunho asks, trying to sound unconcerned.
“Yeah, it is...we have a ton of candles, though. Want to come over?”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
He grabs a change of clothes just in case, then dashes down the dark stairs. There’s a chance the power will be turned on soon, but now he has a distraction. A dark night with Changmin is exponentially more appealing than a dark night alone.
When he arrives at the Shim house, he hurries up to the front porch and knocks on the door. Changmin opens it after a minute, holding up a slim candle.
“Hey,” he says, waiting for Yunho to remove his shoes.
“Hi. Thanks for inviting me over.” Yunho follows Changmin through the winding hallways. He swallows, a big gulp for his dry throat. The halls seem longer in the dark, and everything is quiet, aside from his thrumming pulse. “Anybody else home?”
Changmin’s candlelight finally reveals a couch, and they settle down on it. “Mom’s at work. Hungry?”
“No, I ate dinner with a few friends earlier.”
The room sinks into silence. Changmin’s just staring at his candle with a blank, unreadable expression.
They both speak at once.
“Do you wanna-”
“Why are you afraid?”
Yunho almost doesn’t hear him, but it still throws him off. “What?”
Changmin tears his eyes away from the candle. “Why are you afraid of the dark? Is there a reason?”
Yunho pulls up a knee, resting his arm on it.
“Not really. Ever since I was a kid, I just...hate the dark. Maybe that’s why I decided to start setting fires.”
“When was your first?” Changmin asks, voice soft and low.
This is not what he was expecting, but maybe it’s the perfect time to tell Changmin: here, deep in the dark.
“Would you hate me if I told you I did something bad?” Yunho asks.
Changmin shakes his head. “I don’t think I’d hate you. That’d be...pretty hard.”
“When I first started thinking I wanted to be a fireman-” Yunho begins, then blinks a few times. His thoughts are fuzzy, and it’s hard to figure out how to explain it. “High school, second year maybe...there was a big trial. You might remember it. A crime ring. Child exploitation.”
He licks his lips. “Maybe I was idealistic. Going through a rebellious phase. I’m not sure. But something about that case.”
He tries not to let the hatred seep through his story. “It felt like I could feel the pain those kids went through. Their shame. When they let those fuckers off with nothing, with years and not decades- I thought they needed to see what they did. So I set the courthouse trellis on fire one night. I was terrified, but I needed to do it. Just for them to see...to feel it. I made sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone. I thought, this is justice, burning away the darkness.”
Changmin sinks back into a pillow. His face is pensive. “Did you get caught?”
“No. I remember thinking, they’re gonna find me, then I can tell everyone what I think, and then...”
Changmin lolls his head toward Yunho.
“I got away with it. No consequences. No one ever knew why I did it. Nothing changed.”
That night, Changmin gives Yunho his lighter.
“It’s my favorite,” he says, sitting too close to Yunho.
Yunho looks at the lighter placed in his hand, a shiny metal flip-top with a single purple line engraved along the side.
“This is nice. You sure you wanna give it to me?” Yunho asks.
“It’ll give you a light no matter how dark it is. For when I’m not around to burn stuff for you,” Changmin says.
The words sound a lot like a future, and Yunho decides that neither he and Changmin are the waiting types.
He gets them close, so close, but he waits for Changmin to go the last inch, to press their lips together.
Changmin's mouth tastes like cigarettes and ash, but he's convinced if he goes deeper, he'll find something sweeter.
They end up in Changmin’s bed, after a messy progression up the stairs, several bumped knees, and locking the door behind them. Changmin’s enthusiastic, fingers sparking hot as he pulls off Yunho’s shirt, and Yunho occupies himself with hitching up Changmin’s legs, running his hands along their length and ending up right between them.
The room is sweltering, and he’s not sure if it’s Changmin or him or just the temperature of the attic, but he doesn’t care. There’s a searing heat where he’s pressed up against Changmin, and it’s nowhere near enough. He wants it all.
It’s not a graceful exchange. Yunho’s just trying to get as much friction as possible, and almost cries with happiness when he feels Changmin’s hand descend past his stomach to help out. It reminds him to return the favor, skimming right down to Changmin’s tight jeans. He presses kisses all over Changmin’s jaw and neck as they fight for the same space, and it’s not until Changmin runs his blunt fingernails down Yunho’s chest that it’s over. Their pants are barely past their hips.
He tries not to fall entirely on Changmin, and ends up right up against him. Changmin’s legs are still wrapped loosely around his own, and his eyes are shut as he breathes in.
Finally, he opens his eyes and looks into Yunho’s.
That night, Yunho has a dream where Changmin burns down an old building under a blue moon.
“I just want to write music,” Changmin says one day when they’ve locked themselves away in Changmin’s room. They’re draped across the too-small bed. The incense Changmin insists upon is cloying and thick in the air. Yunho keeps his eyes closed, enjoy the way his head rises and sinks gently as Changmin talks and breathes.
“Being in a band...that’d be pretty cool,” Yunho says.
“I think I’d hate it,” Changmin says with a little laugh. Yunho can feel it in Changmin’s stomach. He lifts his head up to look at Changmin.
“How will you know if you don’t try?” Yunho asks.
Changmin stares at the ceiling.
“I feel like I’ll never be satisfied, no matter what I do,” he says.
Yunho sits up and curls over Changmin, getting in his face. “Yeah, well I don’t see you trying to figure it out.”
Changmin frowns. Bambi is offended, Yunho thinks.
“What the fuck do you know-”
Yunho puts a hand over his mouth, and strokes his cheek with the other.
“Poor little baby boy. No one understands you. You know, you could have it so much worse.”
Changmin growls.
Yunho ignores him. “I’m telling you, you can’t just burn your problems away.”
Changmin yanks Yunho’s hand away. “Funny, coming from you- aren’t you all about that sort of thing?”
“I’m not- I’m on your side, Changmin, why can’t you see that?”
“You’re just a hypocrite, I thought you’d understand but- but you’re not...you’re just the same.” Changmin’s stumbling over his words.
“Oh really?” Yunho’s hurt, but he’s not going to let Changmin get the upper hand here- for both their sakes. “Why is it that it’s always everyone else who doesn’t understand you?”
Changmin just looks up at him like a kicked dog, and Yunho tries to remember that Changmin’s not like him. There’s a line of hopelessness to Changmin’s mouth, and Yunho can’t help but duck down to kiss it.
“I think we’re bad for each other,” Changmin says between kisses, and they press into the faded comforter.
“Do I make you angry?” Yunho asks as Changmin’s hand tugs at his t-shirt.
“Sort of,” Changmin mumbles, then slides his hands up. “More than sort of. A lot.”
Yunho pulls back. “Good. You care.”
Changmin grimaces.
“I hate your optimism,” he says, wrapping an arm around Yunho’s neck.
“What else do you hate?” Yunho asks, pressing a thumb against Changmin’s lips.
“I hate your stupid handsome face-” Changmin says, before Yunho’s thumb slips in to pull Changmin’s cheek to the side. Changmin slaps his hand away, and Yunho trails it down near his bellybutton. Changmin’s eyelids flutter shut, and Yunho doesn’t mind wherever Changmin goes, as long as part of him stays here with him.
“I hate that you still think we’re not fucked up-”
Yunho tuts. “Hey, I think you still think that too.”
Changmin’s eyes snap open with a snort. “Oh really. How do you figure that?”
“I’m good at seeing the best in people,” Yunho says, pressing a sweet kiss to Changmin’s forehead.
“I don’t have a best,” Changmin mutters. “My best is that I light stuff on fire. That’s ‘my best’.”
“I happen to know you like music. And that maybe you’re good at it.”
Changmin breathes out against Yunho’s throat. “I applied to a school- it’s a school for music.”
Yunho pushes Changmin back to meet his eyes. “Seriously?”
Changmin gives him a weak smile. “Yeah- modern music. I sent it off today.”
Yunho takes Changmin’s face in his hands.
“I’m so proud of you,” Yunho says, and it’s true.
“I...I am trying,” Changmin murmurs, voice strained. “To figure it out.”
A flash of guilt stabs through Yunho’s throat.
“Oh, Changminnie, I didn’t mean-”
Changmin buries his face into Yunho’s shoulder. “It’s ok. You’re right anyways.”
Yunho thinks if he gets invited to test, he can take his firefighter exam the following spring. He taps his plastic whistle on the break table, lost in thought. The shadows of clouds float on the tabletop under the skylight. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to find a text from Changmin: ‘good news bad news. can i spend the night?’
There’s an initial jolt of concern (‘you okay? wanna meet after work? off at 3’), then a wave of excitement (‘spend the night’, that sounds promising), then hesitance. It’s not that Yunho doesn’t want Changmin to see where he lives, it’s just that he’s suddenly hyper-aware of how...unimpressive his place is. It’s a bachelor pad, for lack of a better term. His socks live in a pile on the floor, unmatched and enjoying their freedom. His dishes like to lounge in a pool of water to ‘soak’. Shoes roam freely sort-of-around the door.
He needs to clean, or hide stuff, or something.
His phone buzzes again. ‘Sure.’
The long story short of it is that Yunho doesn’t meet Changmin at three.
An hour and a half after three, late late late, Yunho flies out of the pool complex, whirling around to search for any sign of Changmin. When he doesn’t find it, he begins to run full tilt to the subway station.
The other passengers don’t pay attention to his frantic pacing. He swallows down a sick feeling creeping up his throat, and dashes out of the car the second the doors slide open.
It’s a good fifteen minute walk to Changmin’s house from the station. Yunho clears it in half that, slamming a hand against the stone wall once he’s front of it. He takes some deep breaths and opens the gate. Something tells him Changmin’s not in the house, maybe the lingering scent of cigarette smoke on the breeze. There’s not a soul in the courtyard and no one is painting on the porch or sitting at the window. Everything is quiet.
Yunho passes the house and ignores the garden of dandelions, already looking sort of bare. He ends up at the stable.
“Changmin? Are you here? I’m sorry, I got held back,” Yunho calls, wandering inside.
The smoke smell is stronger and he grips the ladder and begins to climb. When he reaches the top, he almost loses his breath all over again.
Changmin’s laying against the hay, and the light falls across his face just as his gaze slants towards Yunho. There’s something wrong, his face is too calm but his eyes are distant and tired looking, and there’s a little line of cigarettes crushed into the wooden planks. Changmin got this shadow, this set to his eyebrows, like he doesn’t even care.
“I’m so sorry I was late, I- are you okay?”
Changmin’s face has flushed, and he takes a sharp breath through his nose.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Yunho asks, crawling closer on his knees. He leans over Changmin, bringing a hand up to touch his face.
“I got kicked out. I’m not allowed to be in that house anymore,” Changmin whispers.
Yunho presses his forehead to Changmin’s.
“I’m so sorry, Changminnie,” he murmurs.
Changmin pats the space next to him, and Yunho lies on his side, watching Changmin’s face.
“He was going to find one of my starters.” Yunho remembers the little box with tissue. “I didn’t know what to do, I just knew I couldn’t let him find it. So I just...I just blurted out something that would grab his attention.”
Yunho has a creeping sense of dread, and swallows as he reaches for Changmin’s hand. He remembers kissing Changmin in the dark and remembers how his own first kiss almost destroyed everything, almost destroyed his family.
“I’m not his son anymore. I have to pack my stuff and get out by tomorrow morning.”
Yunho closes his eyes for a moment, then reaches for Changmin. “Changmin, it’s gonna be okay-”
Changmin jerks away.
“No it won’t,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve...I’ve gotta do it, I need to destroy this goddamn house because it’s ruining everything. If I can destroy it, he’ll forget I even said anything-”
Yunho sits up and grabs Changmin’s arms. He’s sure it hurts but he doesn’t care, he’s just...angry. Angry that Changmin wants to take it back, that he would think it’s so easy to burn it all away.
“You think your life is ruined now, just wait until your entire family is homeless. Imagine that, imagine it being all your fault,” Yunho says, narrowing his eyes and leaning down close to Changmin. “I will tell your family if you’re going to. I’m not gonna let you ruin the rest of your life with this.”
Changmin stares up at Yunho, glare melting into something more pathetic.
“Please don’t tell him,” Changmin says, voice dull and thick with impending tears.
“As long as you won’t do it,” Yunho says, then waits for Changmin’s agreement.
Changmin lets out a shuddery sigh, then nods.
They both relax, and Yunho thuds back down onto the wooden boards.
“What do I do now,” Changmin whispers.
“You wait. Pack your stuff, you can stay at my place until you figure out what your next plan is.”
Changmin pushes over to him, and Yunho lets him lay in the crook of his arm. Yunho just watches the daylight coming through the holes in the roof, thinking of the firefighter exam, his childhood home, and the silver lighter in his pocket.
He wants to ask Changmin if he regrets telling. He wants to know if he’s bright enough to light up Changmin’s world again.
They wait together, until the sun is lower and it glances across the floor. Yunho shifts, trying to stretch his back out a bit, then looks down at Changmin. The golden glow turns him into a bronze statue, unmoving and radiant.
“Stop staring at me,” Changmin says, eyes still closed.
“I like staring at you,” Yunho says, scooting down a little bit.
“It’s creepy. You’re always so creepy.” But Changmin sounds like he might laugh, so Yunho figures he’s not being banished.
“I think it’s a pretty normal reaction to finding some gorgeous thing like you in the hay,” Yunho says.
That gets Changmin’s attention and he pulls himself up to straddle Yunho’s legs. His hair is a ruffled mess, his nose is red, and his smile’s not quite there, but he drops a sweet little kiss onto Yunho’s lips.
“I didn’t mind telling him the truth,” he murmurs when he pulls away.
Yunho squeezes Changmin in his arms and rolls them so he’s hovering above Changmin.
He shoves his hand in between Changmin’s back and the floor. It’s awkward, forcing Changmin to arch up while his head falls back onto the hay. Changmin takes revenge by looping a leg around Yunho’s back and tugging him sideways. He wastes no time planting himself on top of Yunho, who’s now trapped between piles of hay. Yunho laughs, though, then sticks his fingers in Changmin’s beltloops and his other hand on the side of Changmin’s neck.
Changmin pulls him in for a kiss. The lighter in Yunho’s pocket digs into his hip, and he pulls it out.
“This is nice,” Changmin says with a smile, shaking the lighter in his face.
Yunho grabs it. “A very special person gave it to me,” he says, flipping the lid and flicks the flame on. It nearly licks at Changmin’s chin, and he scoots back a bit. Despite the golden light that glows along his jaw, his eyes are dark as he leans in, grabbing Yunho’s hand that holds the lighter.
Changmin gets off on Yunho holding the lighter to his lips, thumb threatening to flick the switch, and Yunho gets off on Changmin’s lazy hands.
Yunho’s admission card for the spring firefighter exam comes in the mail the next week. He hugs a groggy Changmin tight without a word, and Changmin hits him once before hugging back. Yunho just collapses into the chair across from him, mouth grinning widely.
“You look ridiculous,” Changmin says, sipping at his coffee and squinting over the table at Yunho.
“Ridiculous like a firefighter?” Yunho asks.
“Ridiculous like a closet-arsonist dating a pyromaniac,” Changmin mutters.
“You know what this means, right?”
“Uh...the place down the street might be nice, we can order some beer and-”
Yunho leans halfway across the table. Maybe Changmin’s on fire because Yunho’s face is burning. “No, I mean- you can stay with me. For a long time. I can…I can support you.”
Changmin goes still, staring at Yunho. His hair is a mess, his face is sleep-pale, and there’s shadow under his eyes, but he looks like something Yunho would like very much to stay with forever.
Then his eyes flit to the side.
“Do you remember, last week, when I got kicked out?”
Yunho doesn’t answer, and doesn’t move. He just keeps smiling, even when Changmin continues.
“I got a full ride to the school I applied to.”
Winter falls in Seoul, and Yunho’s never felt warmer.
They spend the coldest night yet in front of a fire, burning marshmallows instead of matchboxes and holding mugs with hot chocolate instead of bottles with gasoline.
Changmin wraps an arm around Yunho’s waist and Yunho pulls him in for a kiss. He decides that Changmin in a sweater is his favorite thing.
In the spring, Yunho will test to become a firefighter and Changmin will start preparing for school. Changmin’s father still doesn’t speak to him, and Yunho’s not sure if he’ll pass his exam, but for now they can watch fires together every night, just the two of them.
It’s a slow burn, but it’s the best he’s ever started.
ahhhh jeez I'm out of practice. SORRY for the unannounced hiatus, but nano kind of killed me and then I had a big move, so...
I've been wanting to write this ever since 'Light 'em up' by fallout boy was going around as a 'please changmin solo' song \o/
It's not quite as leather and smoke as I wanted, but at some point it kind of decided to be one of those stories... anyways, yes, more stories coming, so hopefully those will be more enjoyable :>
I've fallen so far behind in reading homin too gah
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Homin
Genre: AU
Summary: Some people light a fire under you. Some people just want to watch you burn. As usual, Yunho is drawn to a flame.
The fields at his back are quiet and alive, wind laying the tall grass down in gentle, rolling waves. The moon is new, and the stars shine more vibrantly out here in the city outskirts. His lungs chill as he sets his sights on the dilapidated barn across the way.
It’s a beautiful night for a fire.
There’s a spark, just a little one. The match doesn’t light. Yunho strikes it again, and it grows into a tiny flame that wavers on the match. He feeds it a piece of hay, holding it like an insect as it crawls up the stalk. It relaxes him, puts a smile on his face.
He’s watching its slow climb when the distant crunch of gravel sends a jolt of alertness up his spine. He clamps a hand around the flame and ducks behind a bush. His hand stings a little where the flame died, but he ignores it and tries to peek through the leaves.
Someone’s making their way down the gravel path, steps careless and drifting. Yunho’s nerves sizzle when he tries to pick out their shape through the dark.
All he can determine after half a minute and too many steps towards him is that it’s a guy- skinny legs and broad shoulders, with fluffy hair a mess atop his head. There's a backpack or something slung over his shoulder.
The guy stops a few meters from Yunho’s hiding place, looking around like he’s lost. Yunho narrows his eyes when he realizes the guy is sniffing the air.
He's being paranoid. It was one match, and there’s a prevailing wind, how would anyone smell the evidence of such a tiny burn?
The guy digs a toe into the gravel. Yunho scrutinizes him, trying to judge the trouble in his slouch, figure out if he’s a threat. The wind rustles the leaves around and above him, and the guy’s hair flutters around his face.
Yunho licks his lips in anticipation as he turns in his direction for one fleeting moment- then continues on his way.
He’s heading toward the barn. Yunho waits until a big gust of wind sends the trees into a rattle before he moves. He darts through the treeline and keeps the guy in his sight.
The guy takes something out of his backpack. He starts moving back and forth, with big quick steps, shaking something in his hand. Yunho realizes it's a bottle- he’s emptying it all over the walls. Afterwards, he steps back and rummages through his bag again. Yunho squints in an attempt to see better.
There’s a flicker in the guy’s hands, just for a second. Then it grows into a little flame, and Yunho forgets his stealth as he comes closer. He can see now- a lighter glints in the glow of a molotov quickly being eaten by a miniature blaze.
The flames lick up the rag, and both the guy and Yunho are motionless, transfixed. Yunho is frozen, staring at the edge of gold against a high cheekbone. The guy’s face is obscured by the angle, but his hands are steady as he slowly lowers the bottle to the foundation of the barn.
It’s a good start. The guy backs away and knocks into Yunho. He panics when Yunho grabs his shoulders absentmindedly, too fixated on the flames burning away at the rotting wood.
Yunho holds on to the guy’s arm, pulling him back when he tries to run. He forces him to stay still, and finally he seems to understand. They move back together, watching the flames envelop the barn until it’s a roaring inferno.
Yunho gets a good look at the guy when they turn to each other.
He’s lost when he does.
Yunho has the early shift. He heads to the public pool to spend his day blowing his whistle at swimmers and tracing patterns on the tiled walls. He’s tired, but he cheerfully greets a class of rowdy kindergarteners, ready for their swim class.
He settles on his stand and rubs his temples. The guy from last night lurks in the back of his mind like a nightmare. Dark eyes bore into him from shady corners, flickering in the light of a burning rag and erratic reflections from the bottom of the pool.
They hadn’t said anything to each other as the barn burned. The guy had just stilled, melting Yunho’s hold on his arm from controlling to comforting- a shared presence, a shared experience in the heat of a fire they had both wanted to set. Lights appeared a long way down the road, and they both ran into the forest before separating. Yunho had torn through the trees and bushes, branches and leaves whipping at his face and neck and leaving stinging scratches on his skin.
He remembers the last sight of the guy- wild and intent, a flash of something strong between the trees before Yunho turned his focus back to his own escape.
What remained of the night after was long and restless. He thought about the fire. He thought about the kind of person who would set a fire like that- gasoline, a rag. It’s a risky starter, because of the potential for residue.
He thought about why that kind of person might set a fire.
The guy was probably nothing special. Just another punk trying to burn away their small troubles.
But he follows Yunho anyways, glaring from between swimmers’ faces, waiting in the space behind the guard stand, watching Yunho from beneath the surface of the water.
The next time he sees the guy, it's at a summer festival, a little community affair with food carts and contests. He's with his little sister and her friends, trailing behind like a lost child while they speak in code. He looks up and there he is, leaning against a fence, breathtakingly out of place in the bright sun.
There’s nothing especially unusual about him, really- but there’s an undercurrent of wrongness, a tension in his stance that hints at something more. A pair of aviator sunglasses slip down his nose as he slowly pulls a red popsicle from his lips. Yunho can't help but stare at it, and his knee length cutoffs, and the bit of skin that peeks out from his sleeveless hoodie. The picture he makes is too perfect, too normal, as if he's chosen everything according to some catalog.
He's also looking directly at Yunho. A sullen moodiness falls across his face, and the popsicle pops from his mouth, leaving his lips red and shiny.
Yunho can't remember how to smile. The guy tilts his head.
His sister and her friends are long gone, enamored with the cotton candy stand. Yunho swallows his pride and saunters over to the fence, hoping he looks cooler than he feels.
He chooses to keep some distance between them- enough that to anyone passing by, they would just look like strangers.
Which they are.
Yunho adjusts his sunglasses. He’s not a timid person, but the guy exudes such a compelling aura that it’s hard to think straight.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick the same place as me,” Yunho says. It’s vague. An invitation.
He learns the guy’s name over a sizzling grill and a few drinks too many for a week night. Shim Changmin is a man of few words, preferring instead to nod yes or no as he stuffs his face with food.
That’s okay, because Yunho doesn’t have much to say to him. The things he really wants to know aren’t suitable for conversation in a crowded restaurant, so he settles for staking out his territory on the grill.
When the night gets a little too long, Yunho stretches and yawns. Changmin doesn’t get the hint, sipping his drink and keeping that intense gaze fixed on Yunho. Yunho gives up trying to be subtle.
“I’m gonna call it a night,” Yunho says, leaning forward over his knees and returning Changmin’s stare up close and personal. Changmin doesn’t move back.
“You should too. It’s a school night, isn’t it, student?”
Changmin finally breaks eye contact.
“Should I be worried you know more about me than I’ve told you?” he asks.
“I saw your school I.D. on your bag.”
“I’m majoring in nothing. I stopped after the first day.”
“Hopefully you’re not just wasting money,” Yunho says, pressing a thumb along the edge of the vinyl on the table.
“I never had it to begin with,” Changmin says with a smile that just sort of withers around his eyes.
Yunho doesn’t know nearly enough about what Changmin is, what he does, or where he comes from to make him feel better. He stands up and ruffles Changmin’s hair as he leaves.
“I work at the public pool. Come swim sometime, it’s good exercise.”
Yunho doesn't see Changmin at the pool outside of his imagination, licking popsicles and flexing golden biceps, but they meet several times by chance.
Changmin has a habit of wandering the forest like a spirit. At first, Yunho mistakes him for a stag, something dark and noisy among the trees. Yunho moves a little closer, squinting in the dim sunlight. He only realizes it’s a person when they yell in alarm and stumble back, tripping over a bush.
Yunho rushes over to help. He finds Changmin, fallen in a heap.
“H-hyung?” Changmin groans, before righting himself.
“Evening, Changmin. Planning on another late night?” Yunho notices a small box has fallen near him, wrapped in tissue. He picks it up and holds it out to Changmin.
Changmin just scowls and grabs it.
“Please tell me you’re not here for the boathouse,” Changmin says, unraveling the box to check it.
Yunho sees it’s a box of matches. He coughs and pushes his zippo deeper into his pocket.
He doesn’t want to tell Changmin he is here for the old boathouse like some kind of addict, here to check the wood and try his hardest not to send it up in flames.
“Is that your starter?” Yunho asks, and they walk through the trees, heading to the lake. “Are you doing it tonight?”
Changmin shakes his head. “Probably not. I’m just...getting a feel for it. The area. It’s pretty here,” he says, looking around at the shadowy trees. Yunho catches himself thinking ‘you’re pretty’, but steps on the thought,
“It’s also pretty easy to get caught,” Changmin continues. He turns to Yunho. “Why are you here?”
Yunho shrugs. “The same, I guess...getting a feel.”
“Are you gonna light it up?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Aren’t you going to? I should probably leave you to it.”
Changmin is silent, finger tearing a little hole in the tissue around the box.
“You don’t have to do anything because of me,” he says. “Just do what you want.”
Yunho grins at him. “It’s not like I claimed it. I’m just taking a walk.” He makes to leave, clapping Changmin on his shoulder. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“Wait.”
Yunho stops, and waits.
“I mean...I got to the barn before you, and this. Aren’t you getting annoyed?” Changmin’s not facing him, instead fidgeting with his zipper.
“I don’t mind, really, Changmin. Although, there is something I’d like.”
Changmin’s looking at him darkly, like Yunho’s going to pull a bag over his head and do something terrible.
“I’d like to talk to you about some things. Normally. During the day.”
There’s a small silence, and Yunho wonders if Changmin will run away.
“We’ll see,” Changmin says, then starts heading away through the trees. “Good night, Yunho.”
“Good night, Changmin. Stay safe.”
The next few times they see each other, Changmin keeps his distance. Yunho doesn’t burn anything for a month.
A late night with a morning shift the next day means Yunho’s close to late for work. Changmin lurks at the pool again, but this time he’s really there, no popsicle in sight. Yunho points to a lounge chair under his stand and Changmin perches on the very corner of it.
Yunho lets him wait the entire morning, and Changmin doesn’t seem bothered. He waits like he’s used to it, picking at his ripped jeans and somehow coming off as very sophisticated. Parents still glare at his faded black t-shirt and messy hair, and the dark smudges of oversleeping and exhaustion around his eyes. He returns each dirty look with a bright grin and scares them off, heads bobbing as they smile big apologetic smiles. Yunho almost laughs.
When lunchtime rolls around, he climbs down from his stand.
“The idea is to wear a swimsuit, then you can go in the water,” he says.
Changmin shrugs. “I don’t really like to swim.”
“Hm. Hungry?”
“Starving. I brought food, from my mom.” Changmin pulls a stack of lunchboxes from behind him, all tied up in a pink cloth. Yunho is thrown off for a moment, but hurries and helps Changmin set out the food on one of the poolside tables.
They don’t speak as they eat. Yunho watches Changmin, wondering what he did to warrant the lunch, and the extra drink Changmin’s brought him from the convenience store, and the company.
Changmin gives away nothing, focused on the food in front of him. He’s so impossible to read Yunho has to say something.
“Changmin. Do you like me?”
Changmin looks up with big eyes, and he swallows his food. “We have similar interests. You didn’t tell on me.” He pops a piece of pear into his mouth.
“Was the barn your first?” Yunho asks. He keeps his voice low, leaning in. Just in case.
Changmin shakes his head. “I haven’t done a lot of buildings, but I’ve been doing that since I was little.”
“...me too,” Yunho says. “I’ve been doing it for a long time. I just want to get this out of the way, but I know you won’t listen- you should stop.”
Changmin smiles. “Shouldn’t you take your own advice? Why should I listen to you?”
“I’m preparing to be a firefighter.”
Changmin’s leans back like he’s been burnt. “Fucking- are you going to turn me in, then? What, you run around pretending to like fire so you can flush out people like me?”
“I’m not- it’s not pretending. That’s not the point, I’m not going to report you. I just ...needed to try to stop you,” Yunho says. He has no idea what he’s trying to say.
It must show, because Changmin flexes his jaw and fixes a suspicious, curious gaze on Yunho.
“You’re kind of fucked up, is what I’m getting,” he says.
Yunho wipes his face with a hand, feeling warm.
“I’m not sure what I’m trying to tell you here. Just- you remind me of-”
“I remind you of yourself? You’re trying to feel better about yourself?”
“No, it’s not- you’re just, I just want to make sure you’re...you’re aware-”
“Aware of the consequences of what I’ve been doing for years. You’re trying to stop me because I’m doing what you wish you didn’t and I don’t feel half as bad about it, then when I tell you that’s shitty, and I will tell you that’s shitty, at least you can say you tried, right? Tried to fix the fucked up guy who burns stuff. Well, that’s...shitty. Of you. That’s a shitty thing to do.”
Yunho reaches a hand out weakly. He feels cornered. “Stop saying that, there’s kids here.”
”You can’t save me, Mr. Firefighter. There’s nothing to save. The thing I do...it just makes me feel good. It’s passion.”
“You’re confusing passion with adrenaline. It’ll get you caught,” Yunho says. He remembers his old friends, careless and arrogant, and remembers them screwing up their lives with 'passion'. All he wants is to stop Changmin before he makes some stupid mistake.
Changmin stands up, scooting his chair back with a loud screech against the tiles.
“When does your shift end,” he asks.
Yunho looks up, totally lost. “Uh...at three?”
“Call me. You’re coming over.”
Around three, Yunho calls the number that has somehow appeared in his phone under ‘Changmin’. Changmin wanders out from who knows where, and Yunho glances back at the pool complex, hoping Changmin didn’t decide to burn it down on a whim. When he turns back, Changmin’s got one hell of a dead-eye fixed on him, and Yunho swears he hears him mutter ‘as if’ when they continue down the street to the subway station.
Yunho doesn’t expect Changmin to lead him to a large property on the edge of the city. An elderly family estate squats on a large plot of land. A few skeletal orchards peek over the walls, and he can see the roofs of other smaller buildings. He’s impressed, but also confused.
“I didn’t peg you as a rich kid,” he says to Changmin as they climb up the steps to the front deck.
Someone snorts, and an older woman straightens up from where she was kneeling behind a half-painted bench. She almost swipes her hair with the paintbrush she’s holding.
“Rich!” she says. “Wouldn’t that be nice. No, this is inheritance in all its debt and glory, child. I hope you are not unfortunate enough to have it bestowed upon you! Changmin, who’s your guest?”
She forms her words with the same crisp enunciation Changmin does. Yunho smiles despite his burning cheeks.
“Sorry, ma’am. My name is Jung Yunho.”
“I’m Changmin’s mother,” she says, nodding. “You must have eaten well today! I’m so glad he actually brought a friend home, thank you for taking care of him.”
“My pleasure. Your cooking was delicious. Changminnie’s been helping me at my job,” Yunho lies. “I’m a lifeguard.”
“Oh my. Changmin was so excited about some mysterious stranger, he insisted upon packing a lunch. If you two are still hungry, there’s some leftovers in the fridge.”
Changmin seems very interested in the swing radius of the front door all of a sudden, and his ears are bright red. Yunho ducks his head in thanks before following Changmin inside.
The house has definitely seen its better days, but there’s obvious care taken to keep it clean and presentable. The floors are swept clean, and there’s flowers and photos set along all the tables. It’s far from whatever broken home Yunho was expecting.
“We’re not very alike after all,” Yunho comments, as Changmin leads him to the back of the house.
Changmin turns, apparently caught off guard. “What?”
Yunho nods. “I like your house. And your mom is really nice.”
“Thanks.” Changmin opens a door, revealing a dark staircase.
Yunho can’t see anything up at the top of the stairs. Everything is shadowed beyond the fourth step. He hesitates. Changmin takes a step up, then turns when he notices Yunho’s not following. He tilts his head.
“Coming up?”
Yunho reasons with himself; there’s probably a light switch right inside the doorway. It’s just Changmin’s room.
“Changmin?” his mother calls, interrupting Yunho’s thoughts.
“Yeah,” Changmin replies, walking past Yunho and giving him a strange look.
Changmin’s mother pokes her head around the corner.
“I’m sorry, I know you have company, but can you do me a favor? I need to head to work...could you finish the porch before it gets dark? The only part that’s left is the railings.”
“Sure. Do you mind, Yunho?”
Yunho smiles. “Not at all. It’ll go quickly with the two of us working on it.”
Changmin’s mother grins, eyes squinting into little crescents.
“Oh you don’t need to!” - but she seems happy, her head tilted to the side. “Such a gentleman! Please, feel free to spend the night. I’ll be back late, so it’s the least I can do.”
Changmin crosses his arm and gives Yunho a little smile from under his bangs. Yunho can’t help but feel it in his heart and cheeks.
“Shall we?”
Yunho paints lines in little triangle shapes, then fills them in with glossy white. He’s humming some non-song, since Changmin doesn’t seem to mind. Changmin’s streaking the paint brush back and forth, lazy but precise.
“Do you like music?” Changmin asks out of the blue.
Yunho nods.
“Do you play an instrument?” Changmin’s put his brush down, and he sounds genuinely curious.
“No, not really...I like to dance, though,” Yunho says.
“Oh.”
Yunho waits for Changmin to continue. When he doesn’t, Yunho tries to keep the conversation going.
“You like music?” he asks.
Changmin hasn’t started painting again. “Do you want to take a walk?” he asks. It’s completely off-topic.
Yunho glances at the railings. They’re mostly done. He guesses a break won’t hurt. It’s Changmin’s porch, anyways.
He and Changmin walk around the side of the house, then head towards the sunset through the tall weeds. Little puffs of dandelion float around them, breezing from somewhere ahead of them. It turns out to be a long-dead garden, almost every plot full of fluffy weeds.
Changmin finally says something. “I like music. A lot. I like jazz guitar. I think it’s cool that you can dance, I’ve never done that.”
“And I’ve never played guitar...you planning to be a rockstar, Changmin?”
Changmin snorts, and his hand bumps against Yunho’s a bit.
“Yeah right. I can barely play. And there’s no way I can afford school or lessons.”
Yunho doesn’t push.
It gets darker and darker. Yunho ignores his heightening nerves- he hates the dark. It makes him want to light something up, just to chase the darkness away. He sticks even closer to Changmin.
“You’re gonna step on me if you get any closer,” he says.
“Sorry. It’s hard to see.” It’s not a complete lie.
They come to a stop in front of the oldest stable Yunho’s ever seen.
“I like to come here to...think,” Changmin explains. “Or maybe to stop thinking.”
They end up laying on scattered piles of hay in a rickety loft of the stable. Through the broken rafters, the moon shines through. Changmin gives Yunho a cigarette, and they take turns blowing smoke rings.
Changmin keeps clicking a lighter, letting the flame go on and off.
“My dad would never let me go into music,” Changmin says softly.
Yunho breathes out his smoke in a plume.
“He never comes home. He stays at work all day. I’m not a son he can be proud of. He hates the house, because it’s just dragging our family down. It’s a terrible house. I wish I could burn it.”
“That’s not the best idea,” Yunho asks, trying not to sound judgmental.
“No, I guess not...sometimes I just wish I could get stuck inside. Burn up.”
Yunho props himself up, frowning. “Hey…”
“It’s not that I want to die,” Changmin says.
Yunho feels a strange sense of dread thinking of a world without this boy he barely knows.
“It’s that I don’t know what I’m living for.”
The conversation flounders, and Changmin gets up not long into the silence, climbing down the ladder without a word. Yunho follows him quickly, ignoring the shivers where the darkness looms at his back. He has to take big steps to catch up with Changmin, and they emerge into the garden. He lunges and grabs Changmin’s hand.
“Wait,” he says. “Make a wish.”
Changmin looks at him like he’s lost it. A piece of fluff lands on his hair. “What?”
Yunho gestures to a little plot of dandelions, luminescent under the moonlight. “Make a wish. You have a whole field of wishes here- enough for years of wishing.”
Changmin stares at Yunho, before turning to consider the field. “Uh. I…”
He seems younger when he’s not speaking, no spiky words or troubled thoughts spilling out.
“I’ve never had a field of wishes before,” he says, so quiet and soft Yunho can barely catch it.
“I borrowed one,” Yunho says with a smile. “We’ll have to see if it comes true.”
Changmin turns a questioning look to Yunho.
“What was your wish?”
“Not telling, or it won’t come true!” Yunho slaps Changmin on the back. “Come on, quick, make a wish before they all blow away.”
Changmin frowns and tilts his head.
“Okay. I did. But you’re the only one who can make it come true.”
Yunho heart leaps into his throat. It’s becoming clear his body has been harboring some opinions about Changmin.
“W-what?”
Changmin grabs his hand. “Can you give me a side-cut?”
Yunho’s never felt his expectations plummet quite so abruptly. “I...uh, what?”
“A side-cut. As in, a hair cut. I want you to fix my hair. I’m feeling like I need a change. For once,” Changmin says. He’s smiling at Yunho and Yunho’s brain catches up with his body.
It’s in the hollows of Changmin’s cheekbones, in the way he held a popsicle in his mouth, in the corner of his lips and the curve of long eyelashes and strong arms in hot sun.
Changmin’s burning into him.
Shaving down someone else’s hair is terrifying. Yunho has no idea what he’s doing in Changmin’s bathroom, egged on by Changmin himself- ‘short on the one side and back, but not any higher than here. Then we’ll just let the rest go, it’ll be cool’.
“Does it look good,” Changmin asks, like they aren’t right in front of a mirror.
Changmin could wear a dead cat on his head and still look good to Yunho, but Yunho doesn’t say anything, just frowns.
“You can’t blame this on me if it doesn’t,” he warns, pulling little locks of hair from Changmin’s fringe to check the length. He ruffles it, pushing the hair back with his fingers. Changmin’s head tilts back a bit, and he gazes up at Yunho curiously.
“But it does,” Yunho finishes, clicking off the razor.
Changmin grins up at him, then pulls and pushes at his hair in the mirror. “It looks so good,” he says, turning his head back and forth. “How about you?”
“No thanks, my wish was a little different,” Yunho mutters.
He wraps the cord around the razor and stows it in a drawer.
When he looks up at the mirror, Changmin’s fixed his eyes on him, dark and questioning.
“Let’s just say I’m not in a rush,” Yunho says.
They both take showers, and Yunho sits outside the bathroom while he waits for Changmin to come out, pulling absentmindedly on his hair.
Changmin’s room isn’t hard to climb up to after being in the dark stable. Changmin pulls a string and a dim light flickers on, illuminating a small attic room. It’s loud the way Changmin isn’t, with music posters plastering the walls and books packed into well-tested shelves. It’s cozy too, warm and sweet-smelling. Little sticks of incense stick from random crevices, the ashes smeared black on the worn wooden floorboards.
Yunho sets down the tupperwares of food they’ve scavenged from the fridge. Changmin settles on the floor, and Yunho sits beside him.
The best thing about Changmin’s room is the big window. It gives them a perfect view of the fields in the night, and the moon that rises slowly above.
“There’s so many stars out here in the dark,” Yunho marvels.
“Yeah, it’s nice. I guess that’s the one good thing about this house,” Changmin says.
“Normally, that bothers me,” Yunho says.
“Hm?”
“The dark. I hate it.”
Changmin swallows his food. “You’re afraid of the dark? That...you don’t seem like you would be.”
Yunho laughs, sipping some of his water. “Yeah, my weakness. I’m better now, but sometimes...I just hate the idea of what’s there. The idea of something waiting.”
“I’m sorry, I made you stay in the stable before.”
“Nah, it’s...well, it’s a little easier to forget with you.”
Changmin’s eyes flash, and they snap to Yunho. “What? Why?”
Yunho leans close. “Guess you’re kind of like a fire. You smell like smoke, you spit flames.”
“Pfft, I guess I’m pretty hot, too?” Changmin grins and pushes Yunho back.
“That’s exactly it! Stay with me, Changminnie, the darkness is coming!”
Yunho doesn’t remember much else, just waking up to bright sunlight burning up his face and Changmin’s hot breath burning up his sleeve. They’re sprawled on the floor, and it kind of hurts. He’s not sure if he should move Changmin, so he dozes off again. When he wakes up, Changmin’s gone and he can hear clattering pans from the kitchen.
Yunho regularly meets Changmin after work and during lunch now, and he notices Changmin’s stopped wearing wrinkled band t-shirts and hoodies- now he shows up in his leather jacket and tight pants, blazers and shirts that look new. Yunho doesn’t mention it, but compliments Changmin on his outfits and enjoys the smiles it gets.
He starts dressing up a bit as well, just enough to make people double-take when he and Changmin go out to get coffee.
He hopes they can’t help but notice how good they look together.
There’s a power outage that comes with the stormy season. It’s late enough to plunge Yunho’s apartment into darkness, but early enough that he has no hope of going to sleep.
It’s embarrassing, but he calls Changmin on his cellphone, leaning on his balcony and trying to ignore the dark room behind him.
“Hello?” Changmin’s voice help him relax a tiny bit.
“Is the power out there?” Yunho asks, trying to sound unconcerned.
“Yeah, it is...we have a ton of candles, though. Want to come over?”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
He grabs a change of clothes just in case, then dashes down the dark stairs. There’s a chance the power will be turned on soon, but now he has a distraction. A dark night with Changmin is exponentially more appealing than a dark night alone.
When he arrives at the Shim house, he hurries up to the front porch and knocks on the door. Changmin opens it after a minute, holding up a slim candle.
“Hey,” he says, waiting for Yunho to remove his shoes.
“Hi. Thanks for inviting me over.” Yunho follows Changmin through the winding hallways. He swallows, a big gulp for his dry throat. The halls seem longer in the dark, and everything is quiet, aside from his thrumming pulse. “Anybody else home?”
Changmin’s candlelight finally reveals a couch, and they settle down on it. “Mom’s at work. Hungry?”
“No, I ate dinner with a few friends earlier.”
The room sinks into silence. Changmin’s just staring at his candle with a blank, unreadable expression.
They both speak at once.
“Do you wanna-”
“Why are you afraid?”
Yunho almost doesn’t hear him, but it still throws him off. “What?”
Changmin tears his eyes away from the candle. “Why are you afraid of the dark? Is there a reason?”
Yunho pulls up a knee, resting his arm on it.
“Not really. Ever since I was a kid, I just...hate the dark. Maybe that’s why I decided to start setting fires.”
“When was your first?” Changmin asks, voice soft and low.
This is not what he was expecting, but maybe it’s the perfect time to tell Changmin: here, deep in the dark.
“Would you hate me if I told you I did something bad?” Yunho asks.
Changmin shakes his head. “I don’t think I’d hate you. That’d be...pretty hard.”
“When I first started thinking I wanted to be a fireman-” Yunho begins, then blinks a few times. His thoughts are fuzzy, and it’s hard to figure out how to explain it. “High school, second year maybe...there was a big trial. You might remember it. A crime ring. Child exploitation.”
He licks his lips. “Maybe I was idealistic. Going through a rebellious phase. I’m not sure. But something about that case.”
He tries not to let the hatred seep through his story. “It felt like I could feel the pain those kids went through. Their shame. When they let those fuckers off with nothing, with years and not decades- I thought they needed to see what they did. So I set the courthouse trellis on fire one night. I was terrified, but I needed to do it. Just for them to see...to feel it. I made sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone. I thought, this is justice, burning away the darkness.”
Changmin sinks back into a pillow. His face is pensive. “Did you get caught?”
“No. I remember thinking, they’re gonna find me, then I can tell everyone what I think, and then...”
Changmin lolls his head toward Yunho.
“I got away with it. No consequences. No one ever knew why I did it. Nothing changed.”
That night, Changmin gives Yunho his lighter.
“It’s my favorite,” he says, sitting too close to Yunho.
Yunho looks at the lighter placed in his hand, a shiny metal flip-top with a single purple line engraved along the side.
“This is nice. You sure you wanna give it to me?” Yunho asks.
“It’ll give you a light no matter how dark it is. For when I’m not around to burn stuff for you,” Changmin says.
The words sound a lot like a future, and Yunho decides that neither he and Changmin are the waiting types.
He gets them close, so close, but he waits for Changmin to go the last inch, to press their lips together.
Changmin's mouth tastes like cigarettes and ash, but he's convinced if he goes deeper, he'll find something sweeter.
They end up in Changmin’s bed, after a messy progression up the stairs, several bumped knees, and locking the door behind them. Changmin’s enthusiastic, fingers sparking hot as he pulls off Yunho’s shirt, and Yunho occupies himself with hitching up Changmin’s legs, running his hands along their length and ending up right between them.
The room is sweltering, and he’s not sure if it’s Changmin or him or just the temperature of the attic, but he doesn’t care. There’s a searing heat where he’s pressed up against Changmin, and it’s nowhere near enough. He wants it all.
It’s not a graceful exchange. Yunho’s just trying to get as much friction as possible, and almost cries with happiness when he feels Changmin’s hand descend past his stomach to help out. It reminds him to return the favor, skimming right down to Changmin’s tight jeans. He presses kisses all over Changmin’s jaw and neck as they fight for the same space, and it’s not until Changmin runs his blunt fingernails down Yunho’s chest that it’s over. Their pants are barely past their hips.
He tries not to fall entirely on Changmin, and ends up right up against him. Changmin’s legs are still wrapped loosely around his own, and his eyes are shut as he breathes in.
Finally, he opens his eyes and looks into Yunho’s.
That night, Yunho has a dream where Changmin burns down an old building under a blue moon.
“I just want to write music,” Changmin says one day when they’ve locked themselves away in Changmin’s room. They’re draped across the too-small bed. The incense Changmin insists upon is cloying and thick in the air. Yunho keeps his eyes closed, enjoy the way his head rises and sinks gently as Changmin talks and breathes.
“Being in a band...that’d be pretty cool,” Yunho says.
“I think I’d hate it,” Changmin says with a little laugh. Yunho can feel it in Changmin’s stomach. He lifts his head up to look at Changmin.
“How will you know if you don’t try?” Yunho asks.
Changmin stares at the ceiling.
“I feel like I’ll never be satisfied, no matter what I do,” he says.
Yunho sits up and curls over Changmin, getting in his face. “Yeah, well I don’t see you trying to figure it out.”
Changmin frowns. Bambi is offended, Yunho thinks.
“What the fuck do you know-”
Yunho puts a hand over his mouth, and strokes his cheek with the other.
“Poor little baby boy. No one understands you. You know, you could have it so much worse.”
Changmin growls.
Yunho ignores him. “I’m telling you, you can’t just burn your problems away.”
Changmin yanks Yunho’s hand away. “Funny, coming from you- aren’t you all about that sort of thing?”
“I’m not- I’m on your side, Changmin, why can’t you see that?”
“You’re just a hypocrite, I thought you’d understand but- but you’re not...you’re just the same.” Changmin’s stumbling over his words.
“Oh really?” Yunho’s hurt, but he’s not going to let Changmin get the upper hand here- for both their sakes. “Why is it that it’s always everyone else who doesn’t understand you?”
Changmin just looks up at him like a kicked dog, and Yunho tries to remember that Changmin’s not like him. There’s a line of hopelessness to Changmin’s mouth, and Yunho can’t help but duck down to kiss it.
“I think we’re bad for each other,” Changmin says between kisses, and they press into the faded comforter.
“Do I make you angry?” Yunho asks as Changmin’s hand tugs at his t-shirt.
“Sort of,” Changmin mumbles, then slides his hands up. “More than sort of. A lot.”
Yunho pulls back. “Good. You care.”
Changmin grimaces.
“I hate your optimism,” he says, wrapping an arm around Yunho’s neck.
“What else do you hate?” Yunho asks, pressing a thumb against Changmin’s lips.
“I hate your stupid handsome face-” Changmin says, before Yunho’s thumb slips in to pull Changmin’s cheek to the side. Changmin slaps his hand away, and Yunho trails it down near his bellybutton. Changmin’s eyelids flutter shut, and Yunho doesn’t mind wherever Changmin goes, as long as part of him stays here with him.
“I hate that you still think we’re not fucked up-”
Yunho tuts. “Hey, I think you still think that too.”
Changmin’s eyes snap open with a snort. “Oh really. How do you figure that?”
“I’m good at seeing the best in people,” Yunho says, pressing a sweet kiss to Changmin’s forehead.
“I don’t have a best,” Changmin mutters. “My best is that I light stuff on fire. That’s ‘my best’.”
“I happen to know you like music. And that maybe you’re good at it.”
Changmin breathes out against Yunho’s throat. “I applied to a school- it’s a school for music.”
Yunho pushes Changmin back to meet his eyes. “Seriously?”
Changmin gives him a weak smile. “Yeah- modern music. I sent it off today.”
Yunho takes Changmin’s face in his hands.
“I’m so proud of you,” Yunho says, and it’s true.
“I...I am trying,” Changmin murmurs, voice strained. “To figure it out.”
A flash of guilt stabs through Yunho’s throat.
“Oh, Changminnie, I didn’t mean-”
Changmin buries his face into Yunho’s shoulder. “It’s ok. You’re right anyways.”
Yunho thinks if he gets invited to test, he can take his firefighter exam the following spring. He taps his plastic whistle on the break table, lost in thought. The shadows of clouds float on the tabletop under the skylight. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to find a text from Changmin: ‘good news bad news. can i spend the night?’
There’s an initial jolt of concern (‘you okay? wanna meet after work? off at 3’), then a wave of excitement (‘spend the night’, that sounds promising), then hesitance. It’s not that Yunho doesn’t want Changmin to see where he lives, it’s just that he’s suddenly hyper-aware of how...unimpressive his place is. It’s a bachelor pad, for lack of a better term. His socks live in a pile on the floor, unmatched and enjoying their freedom. His dishes like to lounge in a pool of water to ‘soak’. Shoes roam freely sort-of-around the door.
He needs to clean, or hide stuff, or something.
His phone buzzes again. ‘Sure.’
The long story short of it is that Yunho doesn’t meet Changmin at three.
An hour and a half after three, late late late, Yunho flies out of the pool complex, whirling around to search for any sign of Changmin. When he doesn’t find it, he begins to run full tilt to the subway station.
The other passengers don’t pay attention to his frantic pacing. He swallows down a sick feeling creeping up his throat, and dashes out of the car the second the doors slide open.
It’s a good fifteen minute walk to Changmin’s house from the station. Yunho clears it in half that, slamming a hand against the stone wall once he’s front of it. He takes some deep breaths and opens the gate. Something tells him Changmin’s not in the house, maybe the lingering scent of cigarette smoke on the breeze. There’s not a soul in the courtyard and no one is painting on the porch or sitting at the window. Everything is quiet.
Yunho passes the house and ignores the garden of dandelions, already looking sort of bare. He ends up at the stable.
“Changmin? Are you here? I’m sorry, I got held back,” Yunho calls, wandering inside.
The smoke smell is stronger and he grips the ladder and begins to climb. When he reaches the top, he almost loses his breath all over again.
Changmin’s laying against the hay, and the light falls across his face just as his gaze slants towards Yunho. There’s something wrong, his face is too calm but his eyes are distant and tired looking, and there’s a little line of cigarettes crushed into the wooden planks. Changmin got this shadow, this set to his eyebrows, like he doesn’t even care.
“I’m so sorry I was late, I- are you okay?”
Changmin’s face has flushed, and he takes a sharp breath through his nose.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Yunho asks, crawling closer on his knees. He leans over Changmin, bringing a hand up to touch his face.
“I got kicked out. I’m not allowed to be in that house anymore,” Changmin whispers.
Yunho presses his forehead to Changmin’s.
“I’m so sorry, Changminnie,” he murmurs.
Changmin pats the space next to him, and Yunho lies on his side, watching Changmin’s face.
“He was going to find one of my starters.” Yunho remembers the little box with tissue. “I didn’t know what to do, I just knew I couldn’t let him find it. So I just...I just blurted out something that would grab his attention.”
Yunho has a creeping sense of dread, and swallows as he reaches for Changmin’s hand. He remembers kissing Changmin in the dark and remembers how his own first kiss almost destroyed everything, almost destroyed his family.
“I’m not his son anymore. I have to pack my stuff and get out by tomorrow morning.”
Yunho closes his eyes for a moment, then reaches for Changmin. “Changmin, it’s gonna be okay-”
Changmin jerks away.
“No it won’t,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve...I’ve gotta do it, I need to destroy this goddamn house because it’s ruining everything. If I can destroy it, he’ll forget I even said anything-”
Yunho sits up and grabs Changmin’s arms. He’s sure it hurts but he doesn’t care, he’s just...angry. Angry that Changmin wants to take it back, that he would think it’s so easy to burn it all away.
“You think your life is ruined now, just wait until your entire family is homeless. Imagine that, imagine it being all your fault,” Yunho says, narrowing his eyes and leaning down close to Changmin. “I will tell your family if you’re going to. I’m not gonna let you ruin the rest of your life with this.”
Changmin stares up at Yunho, glare melting into something more pathetic.
“Please don’t tell him,” Changmin says, voice dull and thick with impending tears.
“As long as you won’t do it,” Yunho says, then waits for Changmin’s agreement.
Changmin lets out a shuddery sigh, then nods.
They both relax, and Yunho thuds back down onto the wooden boards.
“What do I do now,” Changmin whispers.
“You wait. Pack your stuff, you can stay at my place until you figure out what your next plan is.”
Changmin pushes over to him, and Yunho lets him lay in the crook of his arm. Yunho just watches the daylight coming through the holes in the roof, thinking of the firefighter exam, his childhood home, and the silver lighter in his pocket.
He wants to ask Changmin if he regrets telling. He wants to know if he’s bright enough to light up Changmin’s world again.
They wait together, until the sun is lower and it glances across the floor. Yunho shifts, trying to stretch his back out a bit, then looks down at Changmin. The golden glow turns him into a bronze statue, unmoving and radiant.
“Stop staring at me,” Changmin says, eyes still closed.
“I like staring at you,” Yunho says, scooting down a little bit.
“It’s creepy. You’re always so creepy.” But Changmin sounds like he might laugh, so Yunho figures he’s not being banished.
“I think it’s a pretty normal reaction to finding some gorgeous thing like you in the hay,” Yunho says.
That gets Changmin’s attention and he pulls himself up to straddle Yunho’s legs. His hair is a ruffled mess, his nose is red, and his smile’s not quite there, but he drops a sweet little kiss onto Yunho’s lips.
“I didn’t mind telling him the truth,” he murmurs when he pulls away.
Yunho squeezes Changmin in his arms and rolls them so he’s hovering above Changmin.
He shoves his hand in between Changmin’s back and the floor. It’s awkward, forcing Changmin to arch up while his head falls back onto the hay. Changmin takes revenge by looping a leg around Yunho’s back and tugging him sideways. He wastes no time planting himself on top of Yunho, who’s now trapped between piles of hay. Yunho laughs, though, then sticks his fingers in Changmin’s beltloops and his other hand on the side of Changmin’s neck.
Changmin pulls him in for a kiss. The lighter in Yunho’s pocket digs into his hip, and he pulls it out.
“This is nice,” Changmin says with a smile, shaking the lighter in his face.
Yunho grabs it. “A very special person gave it to me,” he says, flipping the lid and flicks the flame on. It nearly licks at Changmin’s chin, and he scoots back a bit. Despite the golden light that glows along his jaw, his eyes are dark as he leans in, grabbing Yunho’s hand that holds the lighter.
Changmin gets off on Yunho holding the lighter to his lips, thumb threatening to flick the switch, and Yunho gets off on Changmin’s lazy hands.
Yunho’s admission card for the spring firefighter exam comes in the mail the next week. He hugs a groggy Changmin tight without a word, and Changmin hits him once before hugging back. Yunho just collapses into the chair across from him, mouth grinning widely.
“You look ridiculous,” Changmin says, sipping at his coffee and squinting over the table at Yunho.
“Ridiculous like a firefighter?” Yunho asks.
“Ridiculous like a closet-arsonist dating a pyromaniac,” Changmin mutters.
“You know what this means, right?”
“Uh...the place down the street might be nice, we can order some beer and-”
Yunho leans halfway across the table. Maybe Changmin’s on fire because Yunho’s face is burning. “No, I mean- you can stay with me. For a long time. I can…I can support you.”
Changmin goes still, staring at Yunho. His hair is a mess, his face is sleep-pale, and there’s shadow under his eyes, but he looks like something Yunho would like very much to stay with forever.
Then his eyes flit to the side.
“Do you remember, last week, when I got kicked out?”
Yunho doesn’t answer, and doesn’t move. He just keeps smiling, even when Changmin continues.
“I got a full ride to the school I applied to.”
Winter falls in Seoul, and Yunho’s never felt warmer.
They spend the coldest night yet in front of a fire, burning marshmallows instead of matchboxes and holding mugs with hot chocolate instead of bottles with gasoline.
Changmin wraps an arm around Yunho’s waist and Yunho pulls him in for a kiss. He decides that Changmin in a sweater is his favorite thing.
In the spring, Yunho will test to become a firefighter and Changmin will start preparing for school. Changmin’s father still doesn’t speak to him, and Yunho’s not sure if he’ll pass his exam, but for now they can watch fires together every night, just the two of them.
It’s a slow burn, but it’s the best he’s ever started.
ahhhh jeez I'm out of practice. SORRY for the unannounced hiatus, but nano kind of killed me and then I had a big move, so...
I've been wanting to write this ever since 'Light 'em up' by fallout boy was going around as a 'please changmin solo' song \o/
It's not quite as leather and smoke as I wanted, but at some point it kind of decided to be one of those stories... anyways, yes, more stories coming, so hopefully those will be more enjoyable :>
I've fallen so far behind in reading homin too gah