Anti-catalyst (open challenge: I Miss My Sky)
Title: Anti-catalyst
Author: beauty0fparting
Word Count: 1500
Pairing: Yoochun/Jaejoong
Rating: PG-13
Concrit: Sure
Anti-catalyst
The sound of keys echoes from the doorway and Yoochun perks up. The door's creak is like a bat's cry, amplified ten times inside a cold cave. Jaejoong steps in with the scent of leaves clinging onto him like leeches.
"Just got off from work?" Yoochun gives him a peck and the taste of strawberries is getting rarer by the day.
Jaejoong nods and removes his scarf, "You're home early."
"It's eleven." A wave of exhaustion runs through his body as he drags his feet and follows Jaejoong in the bedroom, hands buried deep within his pockets. A fleeting question pops up in mind and vanishes quickly as it came. When did they become like this?
"Yeah... I had to work overtime. Are you hungry?" Jaejoong spins halfway and faces him with the same curtain of a smile he always had.
Yoochun just shakes his head. "No." He watches Jaejoong nod and go off to the bathroom for a shower. When did they stop living this fantasy?
A whispered answer that he chose to ignore makes its way to his head, "When you weren't each other's fantasy anymore."
"He's calling again..."
"Ignore it." Yoochun grumbles from the other side of the bed facing the wall. Too drunk to think, too sexed to move.
Changmin stares at Yoochun's phone, vibrating relentlessly on the bedside table. "Do you love him?"
"Hmmm?" Yoochun's eyes flutter open and he's suddenly five years old with a dirty hand stuck in the cookie jar. Words sprint and leap inside his head but not one dare be spoken or be heard.
It's not worth pondering over. He does and he knows Jaejoong does too. If so... "Why this?"
"I..." Yoochun falters in thought. The stare against his back piercing and burning. Why is it? He sighs and just mumbles a non-committal response. "It's complicated."
Changmin slumps back to bed, his head suddenly feeling heavy, "I guess I'd never understand."
Yoochun bites back a 'Neither will I.'
Jaejoong sets the phone down near his plate with a sigh. Untouched steak and buttered vegetables sit quietly collecting dust and silence. He downs a full glass of wine in one go washing away the unmistakable sting with bitterness.
He looks around the dimly lit room, watches the pieces of five years rot and dissolve and it feels like watching rainbows lose their colors. He closes his eyes shut and wonders if he'll be able to close the growing gap, if he'll be able to fix this. There are times when he thinks he could, that maybe when he tries hard enough the gushing waves won't try to eat his castle up. That he could still make a high wall to stop the waters, stop the inevitable apocalypse. Tonight doesn't seem like it.
"Happy Birthday," He whispers and blows the tiny sparks left on the melted candles.
Tonight, the tide is just too high. It gobbles his castle away and he's left with a muddy mush.
And just like all high tides, he gives up and his fingers instinctively dial Yunho's number. "Are you free tonight?"
With a nod, he hangs up and grabs his keys. There really is nothing left to do. It's him who dug up the sand too close to the shore.
-=-=-=-
They first met on a bus stop by the corner of the library. The bus was running late and Jaejoong was missing a quarter. He could swear that he had the perfect change just a second ago.
An impatient man, with a well-developed foot-tapping ability, sauntered over and gave up a five-dollar bill in the bill dispenser. Jaejoong kept his head low to hide his blush and avoided eye contact until the bus stopped by a music store and got off with a loud and well mentally practiced 'Thank you' directed at the kind albeit impatient passenger.
When the man reached the bus stop the next day, Jaejoong was waiting, five bucks in hand. After a few shy smiles, introductions and handshakes, Jaejoong found out the man's name was Yoochun and that he was a transfer student from Virginia.
Jaejoong introduced himself as a music major and that was when they clicked. Yoochun mentioned his years of piano and his composing hobby and Jaejoong just brightened up like a sunflower Yoochun almost mistook him for one.
A tour around town, a bite of the most delicious ddeokbeoki in the city, and a stop at a music store with the biggest collection of records later, they're in front of Jaejoong's apartment door making out and fumbling for keys like no tomorrow.
A few months passed and Jaejoong was dragging Yoochun somewhere near the slums.
“Where are we going?” Yoochun asked after a bus ride and a lot of walking.
“To get something neat,” was Jaejoong’s cryptic response.
“Is it edible?”
Jaejoong just chuckled lightly, “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt… much.”
Yoochun gulped down, “I never asked if it will.”
Jaejoong stopped in front of shabby-looking door under a neon-lit sign that said ‘Tattoos.’
“You’re not afraid of needles are you?”
"Would it matter?”
-=-=-=-
“What are we doing here?” Jaejoong asks, rubbing his gloved hands together, breaths visible in the autumn air,
“It’s really cold.”
Yunho sighs and begins, “We need to talk.”
“Can’t we do that in your apartment? It’s fucking cold and I think my fingers are going to fall off.”
“Jaejoong, I’m serious.”
“And so am I,” Jaejoong responds with a wisp of petulance specially developed for this kind of situation. “At least in a café, somewhere warm, please.”
Yunho shakes his head, “I can’t do this anymore-”
Jaejoong doesn't let him finish and walks away. He really doesn't want to hear it - reasons, excuses and whole lot more of excuses. What does logic contribute and how does make a difference? In his mind, a break-up is a break-up no matter how nicely it is put. And despite how fucking cliché, he hates them with a mother fucking passion.
Anybody who knows Jaejoong would know that despite his cold expression and random spurts of motherly instincts, he is a toddler at heart. He's an attention whore and he immediately clings to the person who could give it unconditionally. His tantrums come in installments of silence and cracking plates but as a whole it works every time.
He has this fixation for cute, little, shiny things and partly the reason why he kept Yoochun all this while. Yoochun, from the beginning, had this cunning ability to click the switch from cute to serious and back. But for the main reason, Yoochun always had known how to keep an eye on Jaejoong while letting himself be kept. Because just like a child, nothing good ever sprouts when Jaejoong is left alone.
"It's time to grow up," Jaejoong mutters under his breath before turning off the lamp and lifting the covers over his head, hoping that the monsters residing under his bed would stop their visits.
Yoochun reaches home at around seven in the morning. The TV is on and the weatherman says 70% of precipitation is to be anticipated. He could hear the water running in the shower and he makes his way to the bedroom. Jaejoong steps out a few minutes later, hair damped and perfect like always.
"You didn't come home last night. Went drinking?"
Yoochun nods clutching the remote on one hand. "With Junsu. I forgot to call. Sorry."
Jaejoong remains quiet and silently gets dressed before walking over towards the home phone and letting the voicemail play.
"Hey, Yoochun, this is Junsu. Junho has a big game tonight and I probably won't make it for tonight. Sorry."
Jaejoong's face is stoic with an ancient language sprawled across it. But from the moment third word on, Yoochun has gone completely illiterate.
"I suck at breakups," Jaejoong utters before stomping away before Yoochun's eyes in fast-forward and slow-mo at the same time.
Minutes later, Yoochun hears a crack and when he looks at his hand, pieces of the forgotten remote control is starting to cut through his skin.
"Fuck."
Yoochun gets off the bus at around 8 and the night is weeping like a newborn infant.
"We're too alike..." He remembers Jaejoong say when they broke up but he never really understood it. Even after a year, Yoochun still wonders what is it really, the thing that went wrong.
Now that he thinks about it, from the very beginning, their relationship had always been an odd one. They never had to balance anything on a tightrope. There was never a chance for mishaps or wrong steps to send them crashing. There was constant absence of helmets and safety nets and at first it was compelling. They jumped and skipped and cartwheeled all the wanted and all they ever had was a paper cut and tiny bruise on the arm.
But it seems they became too careless, grew far too fearless to get frightened by the things they should be afraid of. They've gotten so used to standing on firm ground that their chase for the sky never progressed. Because in the end, they're too much alike. Too perfect of a combination they had no chance of getting better and soaring higher.
Author: beauty0fparting
Word Count: 1500
Pairing: Yoochun/Jaejoong
Rating: PG-13
Concrit: Sure
Anti-catalyst
The sound of keys echoes from the doorway and Yoochun perks up. The door's creak is like a bat's cry, amplified ten times inside a cold cave. Jaejoong steps in with the scent of leaves clinging onto him like leeches.
"Just got off from work?" Yoochun gives him a peck and the taste of strawberries is getting rarer by the day.
Jaejoong nods and removes his scarf, "You're home early."
"It's eleven." A wave of exhaustion runs through his body as he drags his feet and follows Jaejoong in the bedroom, hands buried deep within his pockets. A fleeting question pops up in mind and vanishes quickly as it came. When did they become like this?
"Yeah... I had to work overtime. Are you hungry?" Jaejoong spins halfway and faces him with the same curtain of a smile he always had.
Yoochun just shakes his head. "No." He watches Jaejoong nod and go off to the bathroom for a shower. When did they stop living this fantasy?
A whispered answer that he chose to ignore makes its way to his head, "When you weren't each other's fantasy anymore."
"He's calling again..."
"Ignore it." Yoochun grumbles from the other side of the bed facing the wall. Too drunk to think, too sexed to move.
Changmin stares at Yoochun's phone, vibrating relentlessly on the bedside table. "Do you love him?"
"Hmmm?" Yoochun's eyes flutter open and he's suddenly five years old with a dirty hand stuck in the cookie jar. Words sprint and leap inside his head but not one dare be spoken or be heard.
It's not worth pondering over. He does and he knows Jaejoong does too. If so... "Why this?"
"I..." Yoochun falters in thought. The stare against his back piercing and burning. Why is it? He sighs and just mumbles a non-committal response. "It's complicated."
Changmin slumps back to bed, his head suddenly feeling heavy, "I guess I'd never understand."
Yoochun bites back a 'Neither will I.'
Jaejoong sets the phone down near his plate with a sigh. Untouched steak and buttered vegetables sit quietly collecting dust and silence. He downs a full glass of wine in one go washing away the unmistakable sting with bitterness.
He looks around the dimly lit room, watches the pieces of five years rot and dissolve and it feels like watching rainbows lose their colors. He closes his eyes shut and wonders if he'll be able to close the growing gap, if he'll be able to fix this. There are times when he thinks he could, that maybe when he tries hard enough the gushing waves won't try to eat his castle up. That he could still make a high wall to stop the waters, stop the inevitable apocalypse. Tonight doesn't seem like it.
"Happy Birthday," He whispers and blows the tiny sparks left on the melted candles.
Tonight, the tide is just too high. It gobbles his castle away and he's left with a muddy mush.
And just like all high tides, he gives up and his fingers instinctively dial Yunho's number. "Are you free tonight?"
With a nod, he hangs up and grabs his keys. There really is nothing left to do. It's him who dug up the sand too close to the shore.
-=-=-=-
They first met on a bus stop by the corner of the library. The bus was running late and Jaejoong was missing a quarter. He could swear that he had the perfect change just a second ago.
An impatient man, with a well-developed foot-tapping ability, sauntered over and gave up a five-dollar bill in the bill dispenser. Jaejoong kept his head low to hide his blush and avoided eye contact until the bus stopped by a music store and got off with a loud and well mentally practiced 'Thank you' directed at the kind albeit impatient passenger.
When the man reached the bus stop the next day, Jaejoong was waiting, five bucks in hand. After a few shy smiles, introductions and handshakes, Jaejoong found out the man's name was Yoochun and that he was a transfer student from Virginia.
Jaejoong introduced himself as a music major and that was when they clicked. Yoochun mentioned his years of piano and his composing hobby and Jaejoong just brightened up like a sunflower Yoochun almost mistook him for one.
A tour around town, a bite of the most delicious ddeokbeoki in the city, and a stop at a music store with the biggest collection of records later, they're in front of Jaejoong's apartment door making out and fumbling for keys like no tomorrow.
A few months passed and Jaejoong was dragging Yoochun somewhere near the slums.
“Where are we going?” Yoochun asked after a bus ride and a lot of walking.
“To get something neat,” was Jaejoong’s cryptic response.
“Is it edible?”
Jaejoong just chuckled lightly, “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt… much.”
Yoochun gulped down, “I never asked if it will.”
Jaejoong stopped in front of shabby-looking door under a neon-lit sign that said ‘Tattoos.’
“You’re not afraid of needles are you?”
"Would it matter?”
-=-=-=-
“What are we doing here?” Jaejoong asks, rubbing his gloved hands together, breaths visible in the autumn air,
“It’s really cold.”
Yunho sighs and begins, “We need to talk.”
“Can’t we do that in your apartment? It’s fucking cold and I think my fingers are going to fall off.”
“Jaejoong, I’m serious.”
“And so am I,” Jaejoong responds with a wisp of petulance specially developed for this kind of situation. “At least in a café, somewhere warm, please.”
Yunho shakes his head, “I can’t do this anymore-”
Jaejoong doesn't let him finish and walks away. He really doesn't want to hear it - reasons, excuses and whole lot more of excuses. What does logic contribute and how does make a difference? In his mind, a break-up is a break-up no matter how nicely it is put. And despite how fucking cliché, he hates them with a mother fucking passion.
Anybody who knows Jaejoong would know that despite his cold expression and random spurts of motherly instincts, he is a toddler at heart. He's an attention whore and he immediately clings to the person who could give it unconditionally. His tantrums come in installments of silence and cracking plates but as a whole it works every time.
He has this fixation for cute, little, shiny things and partly the reason why he kept Yoochun all this while. Yoochun, from the beginning, had this cunning ability to click the switch from cute to serious and back. But for the main reason, Yoochun always had known how to keep an eye on Jaejoong while letting himself be kept. Because just like a child, nothing good ever sprouts when Jaejoong is left alone.
"It's time to grow up," Jaejoong mutters under his breath before turning off the lamp and lifting the covers over his head, hoping that the monsters residing under his bed would stop their visits.
Yoochun reaches home at around seven in the morning. The TV is on and the weatherman says 70% of precipitation is to be anticipated. He could hear the water running in the shower and he makes his way to the bedroom. Jaejoong steps out a few minutes later, hair damped and perfect like always.
"You didn't come home last night. Went drinking?"
Yoochun nods clutching the remote on one hand. "With Junsu. I forgot to call. Sorry."
Jaejoong remains quiet and silently gets dressed before walking over towards the home phone and letting the voicemail play.
"Hey, Yoochun, this is Junsu. Junho has a big game tonight and I probably won't make it for tonight. Sorry."
Jaejoong's face is stoic with an ancient language sprawled across it. But from the moment third word on, Yoochun has gone completely illiterate.
"I suck at breakups," Jaejoong utters before stomping away before Yoochun's eyes in fast-forward and slow-mo at the same time.
Minutes later, Yoochun hears a crack and when he looks at his hand, pieces of the forgotten remote control is starting to cut through his skin.
"Fuck."
Yoochun gets off the bus at around 8 and the night is weeping like a newborn infant.
"We're too alike..." He remembers Jaejoong say when they broke up but he never really understood it. Even after a year, Yoochun still wonders what is it really, the thing that went wrong.
Now that he thinks about it, from the very beginning, their relationship had always been an odd one. They never had to balance anything on a tightrope. There was never a chance for mishaps or wrong steps to send them crashing. There was constant absence of helmets and safety nets and at first it was compelling. They jumped and skipped and cartwheeled all the wanted and all they ever had was a paper cut and tiny bruise on the arm.
But it seems they became too careless, grew far too fearless to get frightened by the things they should be afraid of. They've gotten so used to standing on firm ground that their chase for the sky never progressed. Because in the end, they're too much alike. Too perfect of a combination they had no chance of getting better and soaring higher.