you remind me of me
You Remind Me of Me
Yoochun/Junsu
PG-13
Because of the crashing economy (beating up a kid at school), the Park family is forced to send their precious son (big troublemaker), Yoochun, to work in a tea village.
For mfnx7mk2. Prompt: “Took my heart to the limit and this is where I'll stay”.
Yoochun traced the outline of his own reflection on the scratched taxi window. It seemed sadder than usual. And his complexion was gross from not sleeping in two days. Sighing, he turned back to folding and unfolding the piece of paper where he had signed away the next six months to a tea village instead of a correction facility. This way or the highway, the officer had said and handed him the pen.
This looked more like the highway than the right way, Yoochun surmised. The tall city buildings had faded away into giant sunflowers and thatched roofs a couple miles back; he missed the noise already. Everything here was filled with sunshine, dust, and yellow afternoon quiet.
“So what’d you do, kid, to have to come all the way out here?” The driver cleared his throat over the dull hum of music and the car clunking down the dirt road.
Yoochun looked up sharply. “Punched some jackass in the face.”
“Yea?”
“He deserved it.”
Nothing else was said the rest of the way. Yoochun mouthed some words to the songs on the radio, picked the dirt from under his fingernails, watched the driver avoid his gaze in the rearview mirror, feeling unbeatable even though he’d been caught.
A fucking superhero.
There was only one person waiting for him at the taxi stop. Yoochun barely spared him a glance as he grabbed his suitcase from the trunk and unceremoniously dropped it in front of the man’s feet.
“You must be Park Yoochun. I’m Kim Jaejoong.” He held out a hand, which Yoochun blatantly ignored.
“You’ll be staying with me. My house is a bit up the road so get your stuff. I’m too delicate to be hauling your shit around.”
“Bite me,” Yoochun growled, baring his teeth. Jaejoong only rolled his eyes and hissed back without missing a beat, motioning for him to follow quickly.
Wordlessly, they trudged up the road to a little Japanese-style house made only of glossed wood and canvas. Some of the panels seemed to be bending from the summer heat. Yoochun scowled, dragging his suitcase up the creaky porch steps and muttering under his breath about how Jaejoong was shitty help.
“The delinquent’s here!” Jaejoong called down the hall. Immediately, two others pushed and shoved their way into the kitchen and assembled almost comically in front of him.
“Yah, this is him?”
“He doesn’t look tough at all, how did he beat up somebody?”
“Oi, Changmin, he looks like he’s going to hit you!”
“Dude, shut up-shut up!”
Jaejoong cleared his throat and nodded towards them. “That one is Changmin. He doesn’t actually live here, but you’ll be working with him tomorrow.” Then he pointed to the one with the cute nose. “That’s Junsu. You’ll be living in the room next to his.”
Yes, a cute nose.
Yoochun mentally kicked himself in the balls. Junsu smiled brightly at him and, when Yoochun only blankly stared at him, took the suitcase from him with a laugh.
It was still early when Junsu poked his head into Yoochun’s room.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” he asked. “We have to get up at five tomorrow morning and if you don’t get up and to the fields, you’re going to get a bad report.”
Yoochun rolled over on the futon to face Junsu with a raised brow and pointed at his wristwatch. “It’s only eight. I don’t usually go to bed until two.” Then he rolled over, arms crossed tightly across his chest, and went back to brooding. He wanted his computer. And his keyboard. And his guitar. It was too quiet here.
“As long as you get up on time. First impressions are important no matter where you are. You don’t want to stay here forever, do you?” Junsu said with a small shrug. “Anyways, could you turn out the light? I want to sleep soon.”
“Whatever. Yea.”
“Good night!” The door slid shut again. As he sat up to pull the light switch, Yoochun could see Junsu’s shadow retreat back into his room and fold back the blanket on the floor.
Through the thin walls, he could hear Junsu snoring.
Waking up late in a tea village meant getting hit over the head with a broomstick. Yoochun groaned, pulling the covers back over his head, and was instantly prodded, hard, in the ribs twice for being difficult.
“Get up. We get paid depending how much tea we can harvest and process in one day, and you are assessed on how compliant you are.” Jaejoong kicked the covers off and forcibly brushed Yoochun and his laziness into the hallway with the broom. “Do you really want to stay here for an extra three months?”
“It’s still dark outside,” Yoochun complained.
With a long sigh and an unappreciative mutter about ‘city boys’, Jaejoong shoved him into the tiny bathroom.
“Well, the tea leaves aren’t going to pick themselves! What are you guys waiting for?”
Junsu leaned towards Yoochun, who had shown up stealthily only two minutes ago, and whispered behind his hand, “That’s Jung Yunho. He runs things around here.” Yoochun only continued to mess with the work clothes Jaejoong had given him. They were unreasonably itchy. Nudging Yoochun again as the crowd began to part, Junsu added, “You missed the morning stretches.”
“Yea, so?”
“After, you’re going to have the worst neck cramps ever,” Junsu emphasized. “And your clothes are itchy because Jaejoong likes to starch them, just for the bad kids that come through here for so-called rehabilitation.”
Yoochun spied Yunho eying him suspiciously and hastily brushed past Junsu to head into the fields where rows and rows of trimmed bushes sat. He didn’t want to have to converse with anybody, especially not the head of the village. What was he going to say? “Hey, I’m the new guy who’s here only because I almost took out a kid’s eye but instead broke his nose. Twice.” Didn’t seem like a statement that would get him on anybody’s good side.
Junsu caught up to him after a few minutes and handed him a woven basket. “What, where were you going to put all the leaves and roots?” he scoffed when Yoochun hesitated to take it.
“In my pants,” Yoochun said.
Blushing, Junsu punched him in the shoulder and made a face. “You think you’re such hot stuff.”
“Girls at my school would pay for that kind of shit, you know.”
“Maybe they should be here too.’ Junsu forced an awkward laugh. “Anyways, Jaejoong told me I had to teach you how to differentiate the good products from the bad.” He knelt down in the dirt and tugged on Yoochun’s shirt to get him to sit down too. “The easiest to pick are tea leaves, since they’re in season right now. They should be like this.” Junsu held up a leaf that was the same color as green crayons, curled just so, and looked kind of rough around the edges.
Yoochun noticed that Junsu’s fingertips were stained a darker green, and couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been here.
“Got that?”
“Er-uhm, sure.” Yoochun nodded.
Throwing the leaf into Yoochun’s basket, Junsu smiled and patted his shoulder before getting up and starting down the little path between the acres.
“Where are you going?” Yoochun suddenly blurted out, trying his best to look like he didn’t care.
“Oh, I get to roast the leaves today!”
He looked so excited Yoochun found himself tongue-tied.
It was quite obvious Yoochun and Jaejoong were never going to really get along. Junsu set his chopsticks down over his rice bowl and watched them bicker over the ginseng tea. He didn’t understand how they still had the energy to argue after nine hours of sitting out his sun, hunched over and plucking tea leaves one by one.
“I can’t drink this without sugar,” Yoochun said, very clear that he wasn’t going to touch it.
“Sugar will rot your teeth and give you cancer. And you will die.” Jaejoong pushed the cup closer. “Nobody in this house eats dinner without having a cup of ginseng tea, without sugar.”
“For God’s sake, I’ll drink it for him,” Junsu uttered. He snatched the cup from between them and downed it, now that it was cold from sitting out for so long.
“Hey, that was mine!” Yoochun shouted at the same time Jaejoong yelled, “That was Yoochun’s!”
Junsu simply grabbed his rice bowl and his favorite tofu dish and left.
Yoochun found Junsu later, sitting out on the steps after dark, nursing a cup of green tea, and singing an old love song. Mosquitoes flew into the kerosene lamp with small cries. Barefoot, he stepped out onto the porch and dropped into the empty space besides Junsu.
“So what’s a boy like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, grinning.
“Even I know that’s a crappy pick-up line,” Junsu replied. He didn’t even look away from the ground. Yoochun stretched his tired limbs and leaned against the wooden post in slight defeat.
“That was a serious question,” he added after a few moments of silence.
Junsu’s gaze flickered away from the light at that and he shrugged, picking at a splinter in the wood between them. “What do you mean?”
“Jaejoong has a country accent,” Yoochun pointed out. “You have a Seoul accent.”
Junsu stilled.
“So what’d you do?”
“Nothing. Jaejoong’s my cousin. I’m just here for the summer,” Junsu lied.
“Oh, don’t bullshit me. What’d you do? Punch a kid? Steal candy from a baby? Shoot somebody?” Yoochun rattled off with the biggest grin plastered on his face, wagging his finger in disapproval. “Did you force yourself on some pretty girl? Was she just cute or model-gorgeous-”
“Drugs,” Junsu interrupted. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder, “It was drugs.” And then, he got up and went back into the house, leaving Yoochun to watch moths draw themselves into the flame.
They didn’t speak anymore after that.
For the first time in a long time, Park Yoochun felt insignificant; a needle boy in a haystack world.
Yoochun had always reserved “walking back into someone’s life” as a thing that only happened in movies between two fated lovers who had accidentally travelled to the opposite sides of the Earth at the same time. It was weird to think that it could happen between two people who had been living within the same ten meters too. Then one morning, he swung open the bathroom door and walked straight into Junsu.
It must have been because he wasn’t quite awake yet, even after the lukewarm shower and minty fresh toothpaste. Or maybe it was just because he hadn’t been this close to Junsu since almost six months ago. Junsu tried to brush past him, head down, pretending their stumble didn’t happen, but their fingers touched and Yoochun suddenly gripped Junsu’s hand tight in his own.
“What are you doing?” Junsu breathed when Yoochun’s nose touched his cheek. Yoochun’s skin was rougher than before from the sun, his fingers calloused from roasting burns, but he still smelled new, like soap.
“Hi,” Yoochun whispered, pulling him closer and closing the sliver of cold air and space between them.
“Hi yourself,” Junsu mumbled into Yoochun’s mouth.
There wasn’t much talking after that. Just kissing in the hallway, the subtle haul towards Yoochun’s bedroom, and more kissing, more of arms around necks, and the thought of you’re just like me and I like it.
“So, wait, you were supposed to get out of here two years ago?” Yoochun’s fingers stopped their dancing under Junsu’s shirt and across his back.
Junsu nodded, propping himself up an elbow. “Yea.”
“Why didn’t you? This place is a shithole!”
“I like it here. There’s more room to breathe and the people aren’t jerks,” Junsu said, indignant. “Plus, I was a total eyesore to my parents after the whole drug incident. All they did when they saw me was check to see if my pupils were blown or not.”
“I still can’t believe you’re actually happy here.” Yoochun stretched out across the futon, yawning, and pressed his face into his pillow, merely peeking at Junsu with one eye open. “Whatever. Parents are supposed to love you no matter what, you know. It helps if you’re extra-cute.” He reached out to poke the tip of Junsu’s nose.
“That sounds weird coming from you.” Junsu caught Yoochun’s hand as it fluttered towards him and smiled so wide it made Yoochun’s chest hurt.
While stumbling out of Yoochun’s room at five in the morning, Junsu tripped over a nice blue suitcase lying innocently in the doorway, and consequently, his way. Grumbling, he stepped over it and then realized that it was a) Yoochun’s, b) packed, and c) this meant Yoochun was leaving very, very soon.
He burst into the kitchen where Jaejoong was with what he thought was a completely straight face. “Is Yoochun leaving today? Why didn’t anybody tell me he was leaving?” he asked.
“Your drama queen is showing,” Jaejoong pointed out and stirred his soondubu again.
“Well, is he?” Junsu insisted.
“Yes. The taxicab’s picking him up in five hours and he’s scuttling back to Seoul a good little boy. What’s the-” Jaejoong looked up from his cooking to glance at Junsu, but Junsu had already left the kitchen, the slam of the front door shaking the entire house. “-the big deal?”
Only Jaejoong saw Yoochun off, just like how he had been the only one to welcome him in. Yoochun felt déjà vu as he threw his suitcase into the taxicab’s trunk, as if time was running backwards.
He bowed deeply to Jaejoong. “Thank you for letting me stay. I’m really grateful,” he said.
“Don’t get into trouble again, you hear? I don’t ever want to see you here with that ankle bracelet,” Jaejoong said, patting him on the back and opened the passenger door.
Yoochun grinned mischievously. “Bite me.”
“Oh, get going already.” Jaejoong wrinkled his nose momentarily and gave Yoochun a small push towards the cab.
Yoochun discreetly looked over Jaejoong’s shoulder. He was still waiting for Junsu to jump out from behind a pillar and yell ‘Psych! You didn’t really think I’d let you leave without a proper goodbye, did you?’ But he got in the car with a wave, and it spluttered back down the dirt road, no sign of Junsu chasing after, and the tall sunflowers and thatched roofs and yellow afternoon became skyscrapers once again.
He breathed in the city air and the gray-blue skies seemed to be falling.
It was Saturday morning two months later that Yoochun’s cell phone got a call from an unknown number. He ignored it, leaning against the balcony railing, and sipped at the cappuccino he had made. His phone went still for merely a second before vibrating off the edge of the plastic deckchair he had left it on and clattering to the floor. It rang two more times in a row before Yoochun set down his mug with a sigh.
“Hello?” he grumbled into the phone. “I don’t want your mega flat screen deal or whatever it is you have got to offer. Let a man enjoy his cappuccino in peace, for God’s sake.”
“Always in a bad mood, I see, Yoochun.”
Yoochun dropped the phone. He scrambled to pick it up and stuttered, “J-Junsu? Y-you found the note I left in your desk drawer? Why didn’t you say bye?”
“I was mad at you.”
“Oh.”
“But that was a long time ago so I forgive you.” Junsu’s voice was clear even through the sound of wind passing down the line.
“So, uh, is there something you called me for in particular?” Yoochun asked, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck, and leaned back in the deckchair. The sun was surprisingly bright for such a cold day.
“If, theoretically, I was in the phone booth near your balcony with all my village life in a suitcase, would you let me stay at your place for a bit?”
Dropping the phone again, Yoochun leapt up to search for Junsu in the pedestrian traffic below. Junsu caught his gaze, jumping up and down and waving next to a red phone booth, and shouted, “Yoochun, you big idiot! Why aren’t you running down here and helping me carry my bags up!?”
Right then and there, Yoochun threw his heart over the balcony’s edge and let it land at Junsu’s feet.
And he still felt like a fucking superhero.
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notes: If this story moved too fast, I'm sorry! It was actually meant to be a chapter fic at first, then it was supposed to be under 1000 words, but it ended up being this 2800+ plus oneshot monstrosity. Oops. And Junsu's past isn't explored because it's not particularly important to the overall plot. :) I haven't written in past tense for a long time so I hope some things don't sound too awkward. Also, a brief explanation as to how I used the prompt: Yoochun and Junsu are pushing societal limits and because of this, they come together.
Kudos to those who caught the Switchfoot song reference in this fic.
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