Duet For You 3/?
Title: Duet For You 3/?
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1242
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
Summary: Yunho's down with fever, but despite feeling ill, he finds he doesn't mind being that way. Not if he could see Jae again, not if he could see Jae beside him once more. Even if it's in his imagination, even if it's a hallucination his addled brain conjured, he doesn't mind.
♥♥♥
He wasn’t really cold, just not used to the sudden lack of warmth, the loss of the comforting cocoon that had enveloped his being just a moment ago. It was nice - he wouldn’t deny it - but he was okay.
He’d survive - he’d done it before, in the blurred memories of nondescript years that he’d shoved to the back of his mind, and he could do it again.
---
He had expected the every crack on the ceilings to deepen, lengthen, then graduate into gaping holes, and the ceiling would collapse, the entirety of the structure crumbling around him. Much like the organization of his life.
But apparently - he realised, as he laid on the bed, arms spread, gaze fixed on the cream ceiling, studying the cracks that weren’t growing, in the apartment that wasn’t caving - life still went on.
---
When he finally summoned the determination to get up - after countless hazy cycles of curling in on himself, crying a little, all the while drifting in and out of sleep - everything was wrong. From the way he woke without a chaste kiss that he’d try and deepen and fail every morning to the cold, cold air that was in the apartment without Jae’s presence.
Watching the coffee maker work was a foreign experience for him - his cup of the blessed liquid was always ready by the time he was done showering, Jae always leaning against the counter where the steaming mug sat. Clasping the mug with both hands, he sat at the dining table, staring tiredly into the brown liquid, seeing beyond it. Catching himself, he frowned and shook his head a little, the action more of a reminder to clear his head rather than for any other real purpose, and took a deep sip from the mug-
-and promptly rushed to the sink to spit it right out.
Crap, he couldn’t even make his own coffee properly without Jae about. An aggravated noise made its way into the atmosphere, hanging awkwardly in the air and resonating in his head as he ran a hand through his hair distractedly while watching the brown swirls eventually disappear down the sink.
The worst thing was that he knew it wasn’t that the coffee tasted really bad - it was the fact that it was so different that made his throat clamp up, unable to ferry the beverage downwards any further.
Seriously, what was he even doing?
It was a pity he didn’t know what the answer to that questions was, but pain, betrayal, heartache, sorrow, shame - these heavy, leaden feelings weighed him down so much, caused such a bitter taste in his mouth that wasn’t due to the coffee, that he couldn’t help but try to bury the question he only way he knew. His fingers went around the bottle neck of the vodka he’d bought a while back but never thought to open, never had the occasion to use. He gripped the bottle tighter.
Well, no better time than now.
---
A door opened somewhere and Yunho imagined that Changmin had walked into the dormitory they shared, no doubt immediately picking up the smell of the alcohol. Yunho was still pleasantly hazy then, head buzzing agreeably, and had he been humming happily? He wasn’t sure, but at that time he wasn’t too far gone yet, and he had squinted, seen - and surprisingly remembered - mismatched eyes narrowing, brows furrowing above them after the door had opened, leaking light into the room, almost blindingly as his pupils dilated after being used to the darkness. He thought he heard a sigh, but It might have been the breath he exhaled as he stared back at the dark form against the light.
Then the door had closed, and Yunho had taken another swig of the vodka.
---
It didn’t matter how much water he wasn’t drinking, and how much more alcohol replaced the former every night. Yunho showed up to his schedules sober, perfect - nothing unlike the leader who had led four others instead of just one more.
Yunho could see Changmin wanted to say something, could see it in the clench of his jaws, the look in his eyes seemingly set on something, and the aggravated hiss of air he sometimes did when he inhaled through his teeth. Whenever he did that, Yunho would hold his breath, because was he going to say it? And there was tension, and it was a little unnerving because this was Changmin and this waiting, this-whatever it is, it made Yunho want to burst and blurt, “Just say it already”.
But he didn’t - because he already knew what the other member wanted to say, and no doubt it would be painful when the feelings were out in the open, and raw, and Changmin knew him so well, he’d pick him apart - he’d know which were the real problems and the worst thing was, he’d know the answers.
Yunho didn’t want to know the answers. In fact, he knew, but if it came out in the open, if the words actually get said, they’d become real, and he’d have to stop pretending he didn’t.
And so he didn’t say anything, and did what he has been doing best - he feigned ignorance, shielded, from Changmin, the alcohol-sustained stitches that kept all the parts of him together. And prayed that he could delay the inevitable for as long as possible.
---
Yunho didn’t know why he thought he’d be able to get away with that for so long, hated the part of himself that led him to think that, and despised his weakness - his selfishness - that succumbed to a desire that he knew wasn’t sustainable at all.
He looked down at his hands, the same ones that had been cradling a bottle of hard liquor just a little while ago. But also the same ones that held an angry, crying dongsaeng an even short while ago.
Changmin had been angry at him, for entirely breaking down and entirely deserting him and shutting him out. And he was right, had a right to be.
Yunho had been self-centred, only thinking about himself and nothing else. He had turned in on himself and left everything else in a mess.
A mess that Changmin had had to pick up.
And Yunho said nothing as Changmin landed punch upon punch on his body, responsibly missing his face. But after that, he had proceeded to barrel himself into Yunho’s stomach, and Yunho hadn’t realised what he was doing until he felt the dampness on his shirt.
And Yunho was reminded that this was his dongsaeng, the maknae of the group. Sure, he was capable and mature and intelligent (and he’d tell you that himself), but he had also always had his hyungs with him. And suddenly Yunho was the only one left, and Yunho had left, too. Of course Changmin was scared. No matter how much he didn’t want to admit to it, Changmin was deathly afraid and lonely when Yunho had left him to fight this war alone.
Yunho had held onto Changmin as the maknae clung to him, soothingly stroking his back through sobs that would never be brought up again (or if brought up, would be adamantly denied).
His hands. These hands had once held together a group of five, now they had to keep a duo up.
---
For his bandmate, he’d acknowledge the answer that he was pretending not to know.
Move on.
♥♥♥
A/N: This has been sitting here in my hard disk for so long I forgot about it :O Added a few parts and we’re good to go! Sorry for the wait!