One Week (Day Five)
Title: One Week
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Tragedy
Pairing: YooSu (YunJae)
Status: On-Going
Length: Multi-chapter; Five (of seven chapters)
Basic Synopsis: Kim Junsu is an eighteen year old boy, diagnosed with a terminal illness that he has been fighting for three years now. Deciding to stop his treatments, Junsu desperately wants to spend his last week alive by meeting his biggest idol, Park Yoochun, known around the world as 'Micky.'
Park Yoochun is Seoul's notorious playboy, partying and clubbing nonstop at the hottest spots in the city. But when the media almost catches him at one of his favorite strip-clubs, his management fears that it could ruin his career and give the company bad publicity. Discovering Junsu, a diehard fan who is dying, the company grants his wish--to spend his last week with his favorite idol, in order to keep 'Micky' and his career out of the (bad) spotlight.
Reluctant at first, Yoochun goes along with the meeting, thinking of it as nothing more than just some loser fan faking an illness just to see him. He never expected his fan to be the shy Junsu that helps him learn to live his life to its fullest and teaches him the meaning of true love.
Dedicated to my soulmate (she is the Yoo to my Su~)... Saih, who made this beautiful banner without me even asking as well as a trailer for the story. I love you, dear~
(The Trailer) ( The Characters) (The Prologue) (Day One) (Day Two) (Day Three) (Day Four)
Day Five
… … …
Yoochun woke up the net morning, groggy and worn out, body spent from his night with Junsu--not just the lovemaking, even the illness that swept over his love’s body had taken its toll on him. Junsu was sleeping peacefully beside him, lips parted, and a steady rise and fall of the younger’s chest letting Yoochun know that Junsu was real, was okay, was alive.
The twenty-two year old ran his fingers through his young love’s hair, calloused digits enveloped by silk, and he wound his arms around the other’s sleeping frame, resting his chin atop short brown hair. Warm breath ghosted across his bare chest, tiny fingers twitching in between their bodies, tickling Yoochun’s lower abdomen.
“Junsu, do you know how much I love you,” he asked the still slumbering teen, closing his eyes and breathing Junsu in, trying to remember every detail.
The younger of the two shifted, his eyes slowly opening and letting the light draw in some of his warmth and happiness. He sent Yoochun a small, drowsy small, stretching his arms and running his lower half against Yoochun’s. Yoochun groaned and the next thing Junsu knew he was on his back with Yoochun hovering over him, a serious expression in his eyes.
“Junsu… I… Last night I… you scared me so much, and then we… Was I your first?”
The teenager looped his arms around Yoochun’s shoulders, his eyes closing and a very satisfied smile tugging across his lips, as he whispered, “Yes. You were.”
Yoochun looked away, breathing out, “I’m sorry for taking that from you. I… you know that you aren’t mine, and I wish I could take everything back, but no matter how many times I have had sex, just know,” then his eyes locked with Junsu’s, “You are different. You mean something to me. I love you.”
Junsu propped himself up on his elbows, bringing himself closer to Yoochun, let his eyes flutter close as he pressed their lips together sweetly. He pulled back, but let himself linger there for a moment longer, his words ghosting across his love’s lips.
“I love you, too, Chunnie. My first and…” he pulled back, his voice becoming lighter and with a low tone of despair, “my last.”
Yoochun felt his eyes water again, hating the fact that this was their fifth day together, one step closer to the end of the week, and he could do nothing about it. Frustrated he crashed their lips together, sucking on Junsu’s plump lower lip, determined to shower him with love, as if it were enough to change the fact that Junsu was dying, that he was leaving, that their would be no eighth day.
“Please, stay with me. Say you’ll stay, please, Junsu,” Yoochun pleaded against the teenager’s lips, fisting his fingers in the bed sheets beside the boy’s head, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “I want you with me here. Forever. When you leave…” Yoochun choked on his tears, watching as they fell down and dripped across Junsu’s face, mixing into the salt of the boy’s skin until he could not tell who was the one being strong through this. His voice softened and broke throughout the sentence as he spoke, “you’ll take all my colors with you.”
Junsu did not say anything. Made no promises. Did not tell Yoochun that when they awoke on the eighth morning, that he would be able to greet him with a smile. Junsu did not want to be a liar. He knew that this was the end. And he did not want to spend these last few days crying and worrying over his impending death. He just wanted to love Yoochun and experience magic for the first time in his life.
They did not leave the bedroom until much later.
Junsu finally decided it was time to pull himself away from the wrinkled sheets first, standing on shaky legs and ignoring the ache in his backside, telling Yoochun that he would be fine. Yoochun did not believe the boy, remembering his first time being on bottom, and helped Junsu into the master bathroom, deciding that it would be best to shower together.
Junsu rolled his eyes at that, but let Yoochun join him anyway. He welcomed the hot water that careened down the side of his face, washing away the sweat and the tears, cleansing him of everything, a temporary cure to all the things that pained him. Yoochun watched across from him, running his hands through Junsu’s damp locks, helping the boy wash himself. He stepped closer, letting the water trickle down his face, threading his fingers through Junsu’s, letting the appendages slip against each other, warm breath tingling his flesh, mist steaming.
Yoochun opened his eyes, despite the stinging hot water that caressed his skin, and looked at the boy leaning against the misty wall. Junsu was beautiful, inside and out. An angel that fell from heaven and now God wanted him back. Yoochun removed one of his hands from Junsu’s, placing it against the milk white skin of the boy’s face. The teenager blinked his eyes open, too, taking in the expression that was etched into the singer before him. Love, hope, sadness, want, happiness; too many things swirled within the chocolate depths.
Yoochun tapped the younger’s chin with his forefinger, letting his thumb trace the plump and swollen flesh of the other’s lips, and said firmly, “I love you.”
“I know.”
And this was enough for Junsu. Just to be here for this short week. To be held by someone that loved him, by the person he idolized most. Despite his short life, Junsu was thankful just to have this. Everything he ever wanted in life was standing before him underneath a nozzle that now showered them with tepid water, but they did not mind, because they had each other for warmth.
…
Later on, after eating and calling Changmin and the YunJae couple, assuring them that everything was fine, Yoochun wondered off into his workroom, leaving Junsu in the adjacent room, separated by a thin sliding glass door, watching cartoons that came on early weekend mornings.
He let his fingers dance over the ivory keys of his grand piano, tampering with a few of them, letting the notes float across the room. He looked at his nearly complete composition, one that Junsu had become the inspiration behind. Micky had not had any songs in quite some time, on an indefinite hiatus, as he lost his muse. Now it was back, stronger than ever, demanding he write a song, one for Junsu, for the love of his life.
Junsu was getting worse and worse as the days went by. And here Yoochun was, keeping his love away from family and friends, holding him hostage in his penthouse. He felt like a bastard, a jerk, the villain in this relationship.
So that was why he made a call. He had stolen Junsu’s phone earlier the day before, while the other was getting ready for the party, and Yoochun had browsed through the contact list. It did not take long to find a few people that could really make Junsu’s fifth day a happy one. He knew Junsu missed them, and got the impression that they felt the same when the woman started crying when he had invited them to his home. They were to arrive soon, Changmin dropping them off at the hotel and helping them get to his penthouse.
He felt his lips twitch upward when he heard the doorbell ring, seeing Junsu hop off the dark blue couch and wander to the entry way. He let his grin take total control over his face when he heard Junsu’s squeals of delight and saw three people attack his love with a flurry of tight hugs and kisses.
Junsu’s family.
He slowly made his way to the reunion, leaning against the wall as he observed the four interact, their voices strained as they all tried to hold back the very happy tears that their eyes threatened to release. The teenager, Junsu’s twin, looked at Yoochun, his mood quickly turning sour. Junsu seemed to notice his brother’s attention had turned to someone else, looking over his shoulder to Yoochun and pulling away from his family.
“This is Park Yoochun, otherwise known as Micky. Chunnie, this is my mother and father,” he pointed to the friendly looking man and the smiling lady, then he directed his finger to the grumpy boy opposite him, “and this is my twin brother, Junho.”
Yoochun bowed to them all, letting his hand be grabbed by the slightly shorter male behind him, and greeted them all warmly. He tried to keep from looking at Junho, the other boy glaring at him with a pout, as he tried to welcome Junsu’s parents, the couple very happy to be reunited with their little boy.
He got the feeling that Junho was far from fond of him, and it was not until much later did the boy make that known.
Yoochun stayed silent throughout most of the day, letting Junsu have time to spend with the people he had known for a much longer time, sticking to the shadows and working on his latest piece, silently watching the group laugh and have a fun time with each other.
Junsu had not glowed as bright since he had been there, Yoochun admitted to himself bitterly, watching the boy joke around with his brother and just talk to his parents. If he had not known first hand, he would not have believed Junsu to be dying. The boy seemed so carefree, caught up in the moment, and not having to think about tomorrow, whether there would be one for him or not.
It was beautiful and Yoochun wished that he was the one causing that.
They had a small dinner together, Junsu’s mother making them a meal, some of Junsu’s favorite foods featured in the dish. Yoochun frowned when he realized that there was far too many things that he did not know about Junsu, that now he might not get the chance. He choked back the urge to cry then and excused himself early, but it was not like they noticed him, too caught up in each other to think about their very left out host.
He went to the balcony, leaning on the railing, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of wine lying on the table behind him. He closed his eyes, letting the free hand come up and rub his temples, easing the headache and the tears away. None of this was fair at all. He finally found the love of his life, someone that he could see himself with forever. And just when he finds him, the one thing he had wanted to avoid but grew attached to, the God he had believed in long ago was now taking away the only thing he had left.
But then again, he thought with a humorless smile, when had life ever been fair to him?
He still remembered having a family like Junsu’s. A younger brother that he could talk to for hours, a mother that coddled him, told him that one day all his dreams would come true, and a father that supported his decisions in life. He had had a happy childhood, one that tasted like the sweets and his brother used to eat without their mother knowing, smelled like his mother’s garden in the late spring, and felt like his father’s strong hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly after failing a test or missing out on one of his many goals in life.
Now he was far away from there, memories of a reckless past and a burnt home all that was left. If he had not gotten accepted by the company he now worked for, he would have never met Junsu. He would have not grown up to be a borderline alcoholic, a singer, a chain smoker. He would not have been here at all.
He let the past catch up to him, come over him in waves, drowning him with his mistakes and all the things that could have been if it was not for the fire that one night. He could have been there during their last moments, but no, he was making another single, signing autographs, going on tours.
His music had turned angry, depressing, tragic. The media ate it up, pulling every last bit of breath from him, until he could not write anymore, where it hurt so much. Where he just gave up. He had lost everything that made him want to continue.
Yoochun covered his eyes with his free hand, letting the cigarette in the other trail its ashes down to the city below. Then he felt thin arms enclose around his waist, a forehead pressed his spine, and he did not have to turn around to know who it was behind him. He relaxed in the embrace, letting go of the white stick in his hands, as he placed the back of his head into the younger’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Chunnie,” Junsu said, breaking their short-lived silence, his fingers locking together across his idol’s abdomen, burying his face in the older man’s neck.
“Hmm?”
Junsu carried on, noting Yoochun’s confusion, “For inviting my family to stay tonight.”
Yoochun sighed, his eyes searching the skies above, looking for something but nothing at the same time. “You looked like you needed it.”
“I’m happy, you know.” Yoochun nodded to Junsu, who seemed desperate to make something known. “Just to have you and to love you and be loved in return, it makes me happy, Chunnie. You make me happy.”
Junsu seemed frustrated, his grip loosening on Yoochun, who could not quite figure out what Junsu was trying to say. So, instead of saying anything, Yoochun just placed one tanned hand over the two smaller ones that were slipping away from him literally and figuratively.
The eighteen year old just slumped against the older male in defeat, not able to express what he really wanted to. Long black waves brushed across his face, tracing lightly over his already tired eyes. He hummed a familiar tune into Yoochun’s back, the song that had been stuck on repeat for the past day or so, the one that his favorite singer had recently started writing. It did not have words as far as he knew, but the simple rhythm was enough. And soon, both were swaying their loose embrace, voices blending together as the little melody found its way into the night sky.
Once the song was done, no longer anymore parts to it, the two stilled their movements and the only sounds left were those of cars below and the television inside.
“Maybe…” Yoochun spoke, his words catching in his throat, not knowing how to say this exactly without hurting them both. “Maybe you should go back with them. Spend your last day with people that love you.”
“I am spending it with someone that loves me!” Junsu cried indignantly, his hold finally falling away altogether, and Yoochun looked away, because that one act alone was enough to bring him to his knees. “I was promised one week with you, my last week! If I hadn’t wanted this, I wouldn’t have come here! You should’ve known that by now…” His words trailed off, his body strong and confident, a perfect ruse that both would really like to be true, not just a façade. “Why are you saying this now? Chunnie, please, tell me.”
It was all too much for the both of them, their breathing becoming increasingly harsh, their hands clenched at their sides. Junsu’s eyes were pleading for Yoochun to ask him to stay, it hurt too much to think of being away from the person he loved most; Yoochun’s own eyes begging for Junsu to leave him, to spend time with people that deserved him. Junsu stepped forward, gripping his idol’s fingers in his smaller hands, looking up at the man before him with wide and scared brown depths.
Yoochun lost all words he needed to say, all the reasons as to why Junsu should stay with him, how much he loved the boy before him, not yet the man that Yoochun would love to see someday, the one person that deserved to live forever but was shorthanded.
Yoochun could not tell him to go. Could not let him go. He needed him. More than anything in this world, he needed Junsu now.
He dipped his head lower, placing his lips lightly over closed eyelids, a cute nose, then to the full lips that begged to be touched. It was not the longest kiss in the world, just a tiny peck, more of reassurance than anything, but they did not pull away from each other, staying in that same position, silence all around them.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Yoochun croaked.
“Good,” Junsu whispered back, his mouth set into a lopsided grin, “because you really couldn’t make me.”
“I’m keeping you from your family.”
“I’ve had to be around them for eighteen years, a few hours with you on the balcony won’t hurt their feelings,” Junsu stated firmly, turning his head to one side to angle his lips better against Yoochun’s.
Breaking the kiss once more, Yoochun teased, “We could take this to our room, you know~”
Junsu just laughed, a soft tinkling noise that had Yoochun grinning like an idiot and the neighbors wondering what was going on.
“We could.”
And those were the only words Junsu said before he tugged Yoochun back inside. He had not gotten any time alone with Yoochun today, and now he needed it more than anything.
But before they could reach the bedroom they were stopped by a more than ticked off Junho.
“You’re sleeping with him?” It was not a question because they all knew the answer to that.
Junsu bit is lip and Yoochun pushed the teen forward, toward the twin before them. Whispering into Junsu’s ear, he said, “Go, stay with your brother, if you need me, you know where I am.”
Junsu nodded quickly placing a tiny kiss to the corner of the singer’s mouth. Then they were both gone into the room Junsu was supposed to stay in anyway. Now he felt very lonely, not quite willing to go to bed…
He looked forward to his (boy)friend sneaking under his covers that night, but it never happened.
Sleep would not find him, so he stepped outside, back to the balcony where he liked to think, only to find Junho sitting in his regular spot, the twin overlooking the city lights, already recognizing who Yoochun was, stopping the older man before he could slink back inside.
“The reason why Junsu gave up was because of you,” he stated, not bothering to look behind him toward the hurt Korean star. “When you stopped singing, he stopped living. My brother quit because of you.”
“That’s why you hate me?”
Junho shook his head, then stated, “No, I don’t hate you, I can’t. Junsu loves you, he wouldn’t shut up about you on the phone or tonight. You really are amazing. I am mad, very mad at you, for taking him away when this last week should have been with us, but it was his choice.”
Junho sighed and Yoochun rested against the metal railing with him.
“I know. I feel like a bastard.”
“You are a bastard,” Junho quipped back, and Yoochun hated and loved the fact that the boy was not just like his twin.
A comfortable silence passed between them, the first time either had spent quality time together. There were no threats, no arguments, no glares; just two men that were very much in love with the same young boy--albeit for different reasons entirely.
“Junsu knows that you didn’t agree to this arrangement out of the very deepest depths of sincerity in your being.” Yoochun turned to the teen, slightly confused and quite shocked. “Word got leaked out that you were in trouble with your image lately, the party boy singer on an indefinite hiatus. Junsu knew and he came anyway, even though he could have very well been treated horribly by you.”
Junho pulled out a cigarette with shaky hands, his eyes glossy with tears reflected in the pale lamplight. His lit the stick and put it to his mouth, offering one to the man beside him, who quite graciously too the proffered nicotine.
“You’re brother is amazing,” Yoochun breathed, letting the puff of smoke escape his body and make odd designs in the luminescent glow of the dimly lit sky.
“He is,” Junho started, shaking his head in agreement as he continued, “which is why I wish that he never stepped foot in this place, never got the disease, never met you, never fell in love.”
Yoochun looked down, paying special attention to the spec of grey that now dotted his balcony floor.
“What,” Junho coughed, clearing his throat, a trace of a tear streaking across his cheek visible in the moonlight. “What will you do after he is gone? Live like you have? Party? Sleep around? What will happen to Junsu’s love?”
Yoochun faced the younger male, very mature despite his very short life, and answered, “I’ll never be able to go back to the way things were. I’ll never forget him, won’t be able to get him out of my mind. There is no way that anyone could ever make me feel that way again--close maybe, but they would never have my heart. I mean it when I say I am in love with your brother, your twin, Kim Junsu. I would give all the money in the world, my own life, to extend this week forever. Hell, I’d probably go out and get a fucking ring, marry him, love him till he begged to be taken away from me, just so God will finally take some liking to me, and finally have what I want--just once.”
Junho’s expression remained blank for a while, studying the twenty-two year old before him, and then the corners of his lips twitched upward, a smile breaking across his mouth. Yoochun returned the gesture, an understanding settling over them.
As the sun’s rays started to rise up above the city, marking it as the official sixth day, Junho came to see Yoochun in a new light…
…but at the same time…
Yoochun’s light was fading fast…
A/N: ... is it wrong for me to say I enjoy this chapter? Really, it took a lot of effort not to cry while writing this--I've had a rough time, but I'm not even going to get into all the details, but I'm tired lately...
... it's probably due to the fact that I, like Junsu, suffer from those weird attacks--although I don't think that I am dying. :)
Um, no killing me... because at this moment, I really am considering writing both endings~ Neither will be super happy, because I cannot miraculously cure him, but... well, one doesn't end in death :)
I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter~ Comments equal more YooSu love as well as a very happy teenager (ME ^^) who is feeling down--and due to that depression, comments equal happier chapters and less... tragedy~ :(
Thank you! Only two more days left... This has gone by too fast...
To Day Six