[one-shot] silent decay
Silent Decay
Angst | yunjae | NC-17 | bits of gore
Warning(s): suicide attempt, amputation, implied character death
Summary: Counting down the seconds as far as one, two and three- Yunho stares blankly down at the ground.
Counting down the seconds as far as one, two and three- Yunho stares blankly down at the ground. The pave of the road is gutted with dirt and stains from numerous liters and from so many feet and weights crawled all over it. As if though the passage of time is moving at a speed of light, the honking of cars and movement of bodies fill the road in a predicable rhythm.
It’s an everyday life. An everyday life, so Yunho tells himself.
Wet after a rainy day, puddles huddled all around the edge and corners of everything, various dots of colors travel the sides, and a few cars moving with the control of traffic. The solidification of wetness dripping down the ledge, light drips echo around closed windows and all Yunho can do is just stare into the small reflection.
It’s quiet where he is and Yunho finds that he likes it because it contrasts so differently from the busy streets, which is just hundred feet below him. He doesn’t think it’s scary at all. Even when the realization hits him, he sinks and sags, but doesn’t fall just yet because this is what he’s going to do and that is what he wants.
Slowly, he wobbles and catches sight of a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web on a window ledge, attempting to escape its demise. It flaps and flutters around the air vigorously, resistance is evident, but all Yunho could comprehend is that it’s still there. There as a whole, the spider appears by its side and all Yunho remembers is the ting of jealousy that sinks down his stomach as he turns back to the ground.
Quietly, he wraps his arm around his missing left and leans dangerously forward.
He doesn’t remember so much of how he ended up here- on a rooftop- but Yunho chooses not to question it. It’s only his memory that answers him unwilling and his mind hazes and blurs, and honestly, Yunho doesn’t want to remember how his arm fell off one day. How his limb had decided on its own that it was no longer of use to him, could not sustain itself anymore- could not live with him anymore as his left arm rots off his shoulder, bloody with broken nerves and crumbled bones.
He shivers and passes it as the cold chilly breeze. Forgetting the image with a sneeze, he leans forward again, deciding he should do it before it’s too late.
“Are you going to jump?”
A very soft voice questions him from his right side.
Cautiously, Yunho tilts his head, but doesn’t answer. He didn’t think there would anyone else up here, secluded and deserted as it was; the area was accessible to many people. Yunho shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. It wasn’t like he was expecting a visitor, hell, he doesn’t think anyone would when they’re thinking about jumping off a rooftop- especially an over-thinker such as himself.
“Looks very far, huh?” the stranger starts conversationally and Yunho catches the flapping of the stranger’s sleeve from the corner of his eyes. It only takes a few moments for him to notice the other was missing a right arm and the pity wells in his throat with a rough swallow.
“I’m Jaejoong.”
The stranger introduces suddenly. Yunho flinches and hopes the stran- jaejoong doesn’t notice, however, his attempt was futile because Jaejoong had already turned his head, meeting his eyes with Yunho’s. Dark with a shade of blue and gray like lukewarm, Jaejoong’s eyes reflect nothing, but they feel like they could see through anything- everything. Deep and black, an endless spiral sinking down and down.
Dazed, Yunho nearly forgets to respond- or remember his name specifically, but utters what he hope was his name between dry lips and unclear vision.
“Y-Yunho.” He finally stammers, careful of where he steps since one wrong move might cost him more than just a fall.
Silently, the wind brushes against their backs, as if giving the two a push. It definitely urges Yunho to go forward, however with a mere hollow of the wind, the sounds of Yunho’s stomach gurgles in hunger and he flushes red in embarrassment.
Jaejoong smiles anyway, dark eyes watching Yunho and he tugs on the other’s sleeve, the one with his hand.
“Well, Yunho. Why don’t you have some coffee with me?” Jaejoong suggests, like it was perfectly the most normal thing in the world.
Yunho doesn’t pull away and allow himself to be led off the ledge, trailing behind the stranger he had just met and his legs stagger once they touch the hard concrete.
He’s trapped.
Caught and tied down by the endless string of words, tangled between lines after line. Trying to unbind themselves and escape the maze in his head- a maze that he doesn’t know why he made. Trapped in his own body, hard and cold, he waits for the stillness to take him away from the warmth that he can no longer feel, eyes closing.
But the rotting seeps in. Seeps into his skin like water and ink. Binding him, controlling him, tainting him with a line of guilt and regret, which he doesn’t want to hear nor taste. He’s had enough and wants to do it away.
Just like the rotting of bodies, time is not kind nor has it ever been pleasant. Time is too impatient and waits for no one, or so Yunho hears from the large oversized podcast. It’s only waiting that kills the mind of people- of the infectious boredom, he ponders and let the idea swirl in his thoughts for a bit and immediately drops it for the nice breeze.
Jaejoong takes hold of Yunho’s hand tightly, just enough to break Yunho away from his thought as he begins to see the irony of their intertwining hands. It’s sweet and thoughtful, but nothing too frightening- so his nerves say. His body response automatically to the warm touch, making him feel all kinds of tingles, secure, warm, warm and warm.
Then it draws to Yunho why no one looks at their demise for more than a minute because it always leaves room for someone to interfere and reel them out of their despair.
- ->
Jaejoong was what most would have called ‘a strange one’ Yunho thought momentarily as he nurses his cup of cappuccino with a bit of sugar. It tastes bitter, he thinks, especially when he rolls his tongue or takes a light sip every once in a while. He watches as Jaejoong finishes his fourth cup of Americano before ordering another from the automated waitress.
They stayed at the café around the corner. Not too far, but the place had been squished in between a flowershop and bookstore that it made it hard to tell. Though, it didn’t matter. At least, not to Yunho.
“So, what’s your story?” Jaejoong asks curiously. He doesn’t really pry or ask much questions, which Yunho likes, but with the inevitably silence, it doesn’t last long to search for an answer because even Yunho is starting to be curious of the other man.
A few silences pass, the sound of coffee being drained and consumed between moist lips. The swing of the door resonates across the shop and after a pause, Yunho finally speaks.
“I use to be a baseball player and when my couch found out that I couldn’t pitch,” he hesitates, “he threw me out.” He breathes, the memory slowly coming together when he had last saw his couch. A mix of bitter and anger on his face that even when he saw his family, they just couldn’t accept the shocking news and threw him away. Their eyes judging him as a worthless object that no longer held any value, a piece of trash that had been used and crumpled up into pieces.
Exhaling, Yunho’s eyes began to water at the memory as he stares down at his empty cup. The leftover droplets of coffee reminded him of the puddle he saw when he was standing on top of a roof.
He wants to fall.
Fall into nothing.
Fall down.
He closes his eyes and imagines himself on top of the building until he feels a warm hand touch upon his own.
“Hmm. I was a teacher. Taught art for awhile until my arm fell and the children screamed. They kicked me out the moment they learn I was already ‘bad’ for the children.” Jaejoong squeezes Yunho’s hand tightly and all Yunho thinks is how warm it is.
He opens his eyes again to see Jaejoong smiling and leaning forward.
He’s bright. Brighter when he’s standing next to the sunlight instead of a high rise building in the clouds and Yunho can tell Jaejoong is sparkling from head to toe even when he’s only ordering a drink.
He doesn’t realize he’s smiling back until it’s too late and Yunho finds himself kissing Jaejoong full on the lips.
It tastes like Americano.
- ->
They talk for hours, for days- weeks and Yunho doesn’t remember how this starts really.
They’ve been in the arcade for awhile and Jaejoong is intently immersed in catching that pink teddy bear hanging on the shelf. Yunho teases and tells him it’s impossible- but Jaejoong beats him square in the face, causing a piece of his ear to fall and Yunho is reminded of his decaying self until Jaejoong apologizes profusely, kissing his injury.
Yunho wins the pink teddy bear in one shot.
It feels like they’ve known each other for a very long time, but also not that long either. It draws to Yunho that this can’t last forever because time is cruel and they don’t have much of it anyway.
“Hey Yunho, let’s go fishing.” Jaejoong suggests out of the blue, chewing the mint bubblegum loudly and Yunho watches distractingly the way Jaejoong’s lips move up and down. They head to the nearest market down the street, Jaejoong picking out some snacks and Yunho standing closely behind him, shopping basket in hand. It takes ten minutes of randomly looking around the market until Yunho say what’s on his mind.
“The fishes will run away after they smell us.” He says and Jaejoong dumps another bag, high on the unsaturated fat. Yunho could care less what they ate as long as their limbs worked nonetheless.
It seems Jaejoong has picked up on Yunho’s habit because he waits just as long as Yunho to reply. It’s quite strange because Yunho finds that he doesn’t mind at all as they head for the check out.
“Then let’s buy cologne next.” Jaejoong says and Yunho doesn’t have to force his lips to move.
“Can fishes smell cologne?”
“Do fishes even smell?”
Jaejoong shoots right back and Yunho ponders on the thought, his mind completely hollow once he feels the wind brush against his hair when they step outside, cold and quiet, he breathes. The stillness filling his limbs and he stands there momentarily until Jaejoong reaches to touch the frozen stillness placed on his face.
A sound of cracking breaks the silence and Yunho realize one of Jaejoong’s fingers had fallen off. It lands on the cement ungraciously, but neither bothers to make a move to pick it up.
It’s gone, but it’s there.
He sees it and yet he doesn’t.
But it’s on the groun-it is wasted.
But it doesn’t change the fact that Jaejoong’s hand is still warm, soft, solid, bleeding with red, wet and slipping, slipping, slipping.
Yunho takes hold of Jaejoong’s hand with his solid right and keeps it there. Jaejoong doesn’t move, letting both of their hands dangle to the side and tugs ever so lightly for Yunho to walk along with him. They walk for a few blocks, neither minding that Jaejoong’s finger is gone and there’a trail of blood stains on Yunho’s coat and fingers or how it slips onto the cement with dark spots here and there.
Jaejoong didn’t mind. He never does.
And Yunho finds his thoughts on going fishing again.
They don’t bother talking about it at all.
- ->
They stay at Jaejoong’s apartment. Jaejoong’s clean apartment. Jaejoong’s nice and fancy apartment. Jaejoong’s don’t come into the kitchen apartment. Jaejoong’s I guess we can compromise on something apartment. Jaejoong and Yunhos’ apartment.
Yunho can see the clouds from Jaejoong’s window. Some dark clouds and raging thunder, some flashes of lightning here and there. It doesn’t bother Yunho at all because Jaejoong is there. Sitting on his lap and warming his cold thighs, his arm, his chest- his lips and all is right again.
A smooth chill stroke the side of his skin, gently leaving a cold trail around his jawline and carefully to the edge of his still lips, those hands felt so cold and unbearably solid like stone.
Yunho wonders for a bit. Wonder if those pale hands, slim solid fingers had reached and burned him, carving prints of icy coldness onto his lips and dug deep marks under his skin. Down to the vein, the rush of purple and red- the marrow, where only the maddening coldness shakes and rattles him back and forth, he swallows. A shiver reaches his thoughts when the hand slides further to his chin, his breath hitching once Jaejoong leans forward and their nose nearly touch, eyes boring down on Yunho’s lips.
It doesn’t happen. Nothing happens and will never happen because they both know they won’t let it happen.
Nothing really comes to them at this point.
They stare into nothing and huddle together what’s left of themselves. The sound of storm rages on outside, breaking the slow silence and digging deep into the skin, the pulsing nerves move on.
Neither seeing.
Neither breathing.
Neither caring.
- ->
Yunho doesn’t really think much when Jaejoong wants to creative. Especially when he’s missing both his arms and a foot.
“I’ve always wanted to be a pirate, y’arh.” Jaejoong mimics a stern voice and waves the wooden stick below his leg. “Where is my treasure, mate?”
Yunho laughs at the brunette’s attempt to mimic a pirate’s slang, causing the other to growl at him, but it earns him a pout after- a cute pout, which he kisses away and everything become right again.
- ->
Jaejoong is the first one to go.
It hurts much more than Yunho had wanted it to but he expected it from the very beginning- they both had. Time wasn’t friendly after all.
He sits there on the bench in the deserted park. The quietness quickly overtaking him as he looks down at the pile of dust with some distinctive large solid fragments lumped together.
Jaejoong had wanted to play in the park.
Until he suddenly went still.
It worried Yunho a lot because he can’t do much when he struggled to pull what remains of Jaejoong over his shoulder back to their apartment. However, halfway there, the weight increasingly became light and Yunho realizes that the pieces had rotted off his shoulder and there Jaejoong lay. Unceremoniously scattered across the ground as Yunho attempt to assemble him back together, only to see all the pieces blown away with the air, the large fragments remain.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Yunho watches until nothing is left but the stick that once attached itself to Jaejoong. It was no longer of use, but alas stayed attached to the limb of broken bones and skin. Yunho doesn’t bother to pick it up.
Yunho thinks.
Still thinks.
The passage of time is truly unkind.
- ->
Yunho’s finally come when he’s sitting on the porch, rocking himself on his chair with jiji in his arms, who’s already off the next moment and chasing after a dust ball.
He’s found a small house, just off the country side Gong- ju, Jaejoong’s home town. It’s small and cozy, enough for himself when he understands why Jaejoong loves this place so much.
It hits him slowly.
Very slowly that he has enough time to think.
Time to wake.
Time to listen.
Time to see.
Truthfully, his sight had already left him, but that doesn’t bother him.
From this silent decay, he doesn’t press further and drowns himself into the quietness- the stillness that envelops his mind as the numbness embraces his skin and never let’s go of him.
Hugging him.
Seeing.
Breathing.
He listens.
In this silent decay, a hazy smoke comes, slowly but surely, Yunho finds that he doesn’t mind at all because it’s only Jaejoong’s voice he hears and falls asleep to. He smiles.
Sleep has come.
A/N: I have a feeling I wrote Yunjae like their high on something. O_o;; Anyway, had this for a few months and decided ‘fuck it. I’ll just post it.’ So here it is! \o// Nonsense makes me happy btw. /shot
Angst | yunjae | NC-17 | bits of gore
Warning(s): suicide attempt, amputation, implied character death
Summary: Counting down the seconds as far as one, two and three- Yunho stares blankly down at the ground.
Counting down the seconds as far as one, two and three- Yunho stares blankly down at the ground. The pave of the road is gutted with dirt and stains from numerous liters and from so many feet and weights crawled all over it. As if though the passage of time is moving at a speed of light, the honking of cars and movement of bodies fill the road in a predicable rhythm.
It’s an everyday life. An everyday life, so Yunho tells himself.
Wet after a rainy day, puddles huddled all around the edge and corners of everything, various dots of colors travel the sides, and a few cars moving with the control of traffic. The solidification of wetness dripping down the ledge, light drips echo around closed windows and all Yunho can do is just stare into the small reflection.
It’s quiet where he is and Yunho finds that he likes it because it contrasts so differently from the busy streets, which is just hundred feet below him. He doesn’t think it’s scary at all. Even when the realization hits him, he sinks and sags, but doesn’t fall just yet because this is what he’s going to do and that is what he wants.
Slowly, he wobbles and catches sight of a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web on a window ledge, attempting to escape its demise. It flaps and flutters around the air vigorously, resistance is evident, but all Yunho could comprehend is that it’s still there. There as a whole, the spider appears by its side and all Yunho remembers is the ting of jealousy that sinks down his stomach as he turns back to the ground.
Quietly, he wraps his arm around his missing left and leans dangerously forward.
He doesn’t remember so much of how he ended up here- on a rooftop- but Yunho chooses not to question it. It’s only his memory that answers him unwilling and his mind hazes and blurs, and honestly, Yunho doesn’t want to remember how his arm fell off one day. How his limb had decided on its own that it was no longer of use to him, could not sustain itself anymore- could not live with him anymore as his left arm rots off his shoulder, bloody with broken nerves and crumbled bones.
He shivers and passes it as the cold chilly breeze. Forgetting the image with a sneeze, he leans forward again, deciding he should do it before it’s too late.
“Are you going to jump?”
A very soft voice questions him from his right side.
Cautiously, Yunho tilts his head, but doesn’t answer. He didn’t think there would anyone else up here, secluded and deserted as it was; the area was accessible to many people. Yunho shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. It wasn’t like he was expecting a visitor, hell, he doesn’t think anyone would when they’re thinking about jumping off a rooftop- especially an over-thinker such as himself.
“Looks very far, huh?” the stranger starts conversationally and Yunho catches the flapping of the stranger’s sleeve from the corner of his eyes. It only takes a few moments for him to notice the other was missing a right arm and the pity wells in his throat with a rough swallow.
“I’m Jaejoong.”
The stranger introduces suddenly. Yunho flinches and hopes the stran- jaejoong doesn’t notice, however, his attempt was futile because Jaejoong had already turned his head, meeting his eyes with Yunho’s. Dark with a shade of blue and gray like lukewarm, Jaejoong’s eyes reflect nothing, but they feel like they could see through anything- everything. Deep and black, an endless spiral sinking down and down.
Dazed, Yunho nearly forgets to respond- or remember his name specifically, but utters what he hope was his name between dry lips and unclear vision.
“Y-Yunho.” He finally stammers, careful of where he steps since one wrong move might cost him more than just a fall.
Silently, the wind brushes against their backs, as if giving the two a push. It definitely urges Yunho to go forward, however with a mere hollow of the wind, the sounds of Yunho’s stomach gurgles in hunger and he flushes red in embarrassment.
Jaejoong smiles anyway, dark eyes watching Yunho and he tugs on the other’s sleeve, the one with his hand.
“Well, Yunho. Why don’t you have some coffee with me?” Jaejoong suggests, like it was perfectly the most normal thing in the world.
Yunho doesn’t pull away and allow himself to be led off the ledge, trailing behind the stranger he had just met and his legs stagger once they touch the hard concrete.
He’s trapped.
Caught and tied down by the endless string of words, tangled between lines after line. Trying to unbind themselves and escape the maze in his head- a maze that he doesn’t know why he made. Trapped in his own body, hard and cold, he waits for the stillness to take him away from the warmth that he can no longer feel, eyes closing.
But the rotting seeps in. Seeps into his skin like water and ink. Binding him, controlling him, tainting him with a line of guilt and regret, which he doesn’t want to hear nor taste. He’s had enough and wants to do it away.
Just like the rotting of bodies, time is not kind nor has it ever been pleasant. Time is too impatient and waits for no one, or so Yunho hears from the large oversized podcast. It’s only waiting that kills the mind of people- of the infectious boredom, he ponders and let the idea swirl in his thoughts for a bit and immediately drops it for the nice breeze.
Jaejoong takes hold of Yunho’s hand tightly, just enough to break Yunho away from his thought as he begins to see the irony of their intertwining hands. It’s sweet and thoughtful, but nothing too frightening- so his nerves say. His body response automatically to the warm touch, making him feel all kinds of tingles, secure, warm, warm and warm.
Then it draws to Yunho why no one looks at their demise for more than a minute because it always leaves room for someone to interfere and reel them out of their despair.
- ->
Jaejoong was what most would have called ‘a strange one’ Yunho thought momentarily as he nurses his cup of cappuccino with a bit of sugar. It tastes bitter, he thinks, especially when he rolls his tongue or takes a light sip every once in a while. He watches as Jaejoong finishes his fourth cup of Americano before ordering another from the automated waitress.
They stayed at the café around the corner. Not too far, but the place had been squished in between a flowershop and bookstore that it made it hard to tell. Though, it didn’t matter. At least, not to Yunho.
“So, what’s your story?” Jaejoong asks curiously. He doesn’t really pry or ask much questions, which Yunho likes, but with the inevitably silence, it doesn’t last long to search for an answer because even Yunho is starting to be curious of the other man.
A few silences pass, the sound of coffee being drained and consumed between moist lips. The swing of the door resonates across the shop and after a pause, Yunho finally speaks.
“I use to be a baseball player and when my couch found out that I couldn’t pitch,” he hesitates, “he threw me out.” He breathes, the memory slowly coming together when he had last saw his couch. A mix of bitter and anger on his face that even when he saw his family, they just couldn’t accept the shocking news and threw him away. Their eyes judging him as a worthless object that no longer held any value, a piece of trash that had been used and crumpled up into pieces.
Exhaling, Yunho’s eyes began to water at the memory as he stares down at his empty cup. The leftover droplets of coffee reminded him of the puddle he saw when he was standing on top of a roof.
He wants to fall.
Fall into nothing.
Fall down.
He closes his eyes and imagines himself on top of the building until he feels a warm hand touch upon his own.
“Hmm. I was a teacher. Taught art for awhile until my arm fell and the children screamed. They kicked me out the moment they learn I was already ‘bad’ for the children.” Jaejoong squeezes Yunho’s hand tightly and all Yunho thinks is how warm it is.
He opens his eyes again to see Jaejoong smiling and leaning forward.
He’s bright. Brighter when he’s standing next to the sunlight instead of a high rise building in the clouds and Yunho can tell Jaejoong is sparkling from head to toe even when he’s only ordering a drink.
He doesn’t realize he’s smiling back until it’s too late and Yunho finds himself kissing Jaejoong full on the lips.
It tastes like Americano.
- ->
They talk for hours, for days- weeks and Yunho doesn’t remember how this starts really.
They’ve been in the arcade for awhile and Jaejoong is intently immersed in catching that pink teddy bear hanging on the shelf. Yunho teases and tells him it’s impossible- but Jaejoong beats him square in the face, causing a piece of his ear to fall and Yunho is reminded of his decaying self until Jaejoong apologizes profusely, kissing his injury.
Yunho wins the pink teddy bear in one shot.
It feels like they’ve known each other for a very long time, but also not that long either. It draws to Yunho that this can’t last forever because time is cruel and they don’t have much of it anyway.
“Hey Yunho, let’s go fishing.” Jaejoong suggests out of the blue, chewing the mint bubblegum loudly and Yunho watches distractingly the way Jaejoong’s lips move up and down. They head to the nearest market down the street, Jaejoong picking out some snacks and Yunho standing closely behind him, shopping basket in hand. It takes ten minutes of randomly looking around the market until Yunho say what’s on his mind.
“The fishes will run away after they smell us.” He says and Jaejoong dumps another bag, high on the unsaturated fat. Yunho could care less what they ate as long as their limbs worked nonetheless.
It seems Jaejoong has picked up on Yunho’s habit because he waits just as long as Yunho to reply. It’s quite strange because Yunho finds that he doesn’t mind at all as they head for the check out.
“Then let’s buy cologne next.” Jaejoong says and Yunho doesn’t have to force his lips to move.
“Can fishes smell cologne?”
“Do fishes even smell?”
Jaejoong shoots right back and Yunho ponders on the thought, his mind completely hollow once he feels the wind brush against his hair when they step outside, cold and quiet, he breathes. The stillness filling his limbs and he stands there momentarily until Jaejoong reaches to touch the frozen stillness placed on his face.
A sound of cracking breaks the silence and Yunho realize one of Jaejoong’s fingers had fallen off. It lands on the cement ungraciously, but neither bothers to make a move to pick it up.
It’s gone, but it’s there.
He sees it and yet he doesn’t.
But it’s on the groun-it is wasted.
But it doesn’t change the fact that Jaejoong’s hand is still warm, soft, solid, bleeding with red, wet and slipping, slipping, slipping.
Yunho takes hold of Jaejoong’s hand with his solid right and keeps it there. Jaejoong doesn’t move, letting both of their hands dangle to the side and tugs ever so lightly for Yunho to walk along with him. They walk for a few blocks, neither minding that Jaejoong’s finger is gone and there’a trail of blood stains on Yunho’s coat and fingers or how it slips onto the cement with dark spots here and there.
Jaejoong didn’t mind. He never does.
And Yunho finds his thoughts on going fishing again.
They don’t bother talking about it at all.
- ->
They stay at Jaejoong’s apartment. Jaejoong’s clean apartment. Jaejoong’s nice and fancy apartment. Jaejoong’s don’t come into the kitchen apartment. Jaejoong’s I guess we can compromise on something apartment. Jaejoong and Yunhos’ apartment.
Yunho can see the clouds from Jaejoong’s window. Some dark clouds and raging thunder, some flashes of lightning here and there. It doesn’t bother Yunho at all because Jaejoong is there. Sitting on his lap and warming his cold thighs, his arm, his chest- his lips and all is right again.
A smooth chill stroke the side of his skin, gently leaving a cold trail around his jawline and carefully to the edge of his still lips, those hands felt so cold and unbearably solid like stone.
Yunho wonders for a bit. Wonder if those pale hands, slim solid fingers had reached and burned him, carving prints of icy coldness onto his lips and dug deep marks under his skin. Down to the vein, the rush of purple and red- the marrow, where only the maddening coldness shakes and rattles him back and forth, he swallows. A shiver reaches his thoughts when the hand slides further to his chin, his breath hitching once Jaejoong leans forward and their nose nearly touch, eyes boring down on Yunho’s lips.
It doesn’t happen. Nothing happens and will never happen because they both know they won’t let it happen.
Nothing really comes to them at this point.
They stare into nothing and huddle together what’s left of themselves. The sound of storm rages on outside, breaking the slow silence and digging deep into the skin, the pulsing nerves move on.
Neither seeing.
Neither breathing.
Neither caring.
- ->
Yunho doesn’t really think much when Jaejoong wants to creative. Especially when he’s missing both his arms and a foot.
“I’ve always wanted to be a pirate, y’arh.” Jaejoong mimics a stern voice and waves the wooden stick below his leg. “Where is my treasure, mate?”
Yunho laughs at the brunette’s attempt to mimic a pirate’s slang, causing the other to growl at him, but it earns him a pout after- a cute pout, which he kisses away and everything become right again.
- ->
Jaejoong is the first one to go.
It hurts much more than Yunho had wanted it to but he expected it from the very beginning- they both had. Time wasn’t friendly after all.
He sits there on the bench in the deserted park. The quietness quickly overtaking him as he looks down at the pile of dust with some distinctive large solid fragments lumped together.
Jaejoong had wanted to play in the park.
Until he suddenly went still.
It worried Yunho a lot because he can’t do much when he struggled to pull what remains of Jaejoong over his shoulder back to their apartment. However, halfway there, the weight increasingly became light and Yunho realizes that the pieces had rotted off his shoulder and there Jaejoong lay. Unceremoniously scattered across the ground as Yunho attempt to assemble him back together, only to see all the pieces blown away with the air, the large fragments remain.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Yunho watches until nothing is left but the stick that once attached itself to Jaejoong. It was no longer of use, but alas stayed attached to the limb of broken bones and skin. Yunho doesn’t bother to pick it up.
Yunho thinks.
Still thinks.
The passage of time is truly unkind.
- ->
Yunho’s finally come when he’s sitting on the porch, rocking himself on his chair with jiji in his arms, who’s already off the next moment and chasing after a dust ball.
He’s found a small house, just off the country side Gong- ju, Jaejoong’s home town. It’s small and cozy, enough for himself when he understands why Jaejoong loves this place so much.
It hits him slowly.
Very slowly that he has enough time to think.
Time to wake.
Time to listen.
Time to see.
Truthfully, his sight had already left him, but that doesn’t bother him.
From this silent decay, he doesn’t press further and drowns himself into the quietness- the stillness that envelops his mind as the numbness embraces his skin and never let’s go of him.
Hugging him.
Seeing.
Breathing.
He listens.
In this silent decay, a hazy smoke comes, slowly but surely, Yunho finds that he doesn’t mind at all because it’s only Jaejoong’s voice he hears and falls asleep to. He smiles.
Sleep has come.
A/N: I have a feeling I wrote Yunjae like their high on something. O_o;; Anyway, had this for a few months and decided ‘fuck it. I’ll just post it.’ So here it is! \o// Nonsense makes me happy btw. /shot