Listening to Lithium
Pairing: Changmin/Jaejoong
Rating: R
Genre: Angst probably
Summary: Changmin is Jaejoong’s neighbor and he can hear all the things that go on inside his apartment.
A/N: Another story influenced by the psychology class I took. Prompt 47.
Muffled through the walls between their apartments, Changmin heard the light whimper of his neighbor talking to someone. “Getting my blood checked, again.” He didn’t really have time to concern himself with his neighbor’s health and instead put on some noise canceling headphones and continued working on his thesis. The more he got done now would allow for more free time later in the week.
Within half an hour, someone was knocking on his neighbor’s door. Minutes after that, the person was pounding on it and demanding that the door be opened. “Jaejoong! Open up! Are you okay? Jaejoong! Please!” The disturbance was enough for Changmin to leave his desk and press an ear to his own front door. He could hear the anxious pacing of the stranger and his distressed mutterings. Changmin almost wanted to help, but what could he do?
It wasn’t his business anyway. He returned to his desk. But he did not start working. He stared at the wall that bordered their apartments. Stared. And listened. From behind the wall was the sound of retching. Then flushing. Tap water running at full capacity. And sobbing.
The neighbor’s house phone chirped shrilly. Banging. Slamming. Thudding. A breathless, “I’m coming. Thanks, Yoochun.” Keys jingled, the door opened and closed, the lock snapped.
Changmin put the headphones back on and started editing his paper.
Morning, or perhaps afternoon, but the doorbell woke him up so it was morning. Changmin slipped into some pants, sniffed his armpits, and shuffled to the door. He flicked the lock and pulled the door open, stopping where the chain reached. Eye to eye with his neighbor, he snorted to retract his runny nose, and mumbled, “Yes?”
Owlish, fretting, smiling brightly. His neighbor had flushed, puffy cheeks and thin black hair just barely touching his ears. Only a few centimeters shorter than him but still petite looking. Not fragile, but definitely not healthy. He twitched. Smiled. “I wanted to invite you over for lunch, but it seems I’ve woken you up. I’m sorry.”
Changmin sniffed again, his morning sniffles easing. He blinked, rubbed the crust out of his eye, and nodded. “Let me get dressed. What are you making?”
His smiled brightened several watts; he was beaming. “Just some simple things. I have jjajjangmyeon ready to serve and my mother sent me some more Kimchi. It’s not much, but I didn’t know what you would like.”
“I’ll eat anything. Be over in a few.” Then he closed the door dismissively and returned to his room to dress. Perhaps he had hurt his neighbor’s feelings, but he had just woken up and didn’t really care. Hungry.
Not long after, he was knocking on the door and waiting. Unlike the day the stranger came, his neighbor answered almost immediately with that bright smile on his face. Bright, bitter smile.
The layout was the opposite of Changmin’s, and it threw him for a loop. The furnishings were better though. Nice couches and chair, modern decorations, and a good multimedia system. Of course, the neighbor was already working and could afford these luxuries.
He was led into the kitchen where he sat a high table already set with the dishes. “Go ahead and serve yourself.” He indicated to the large pot on the stove. “Would you like something to drink?” The smiling man asked, and Changmin nodded and grabbed his bowl.
“Water -I did just wake up.” Water was filled into a clean glass and into a half empty cup. Changmin took the glass and sat, bowl filled with warm noodles.
They ate in silence for a few moments, but it was obvious that the other man wanted to say something. Barely touching his bowl while Changmin was nearly finished (though too salty, it was tasty), the host spoke up. “You’re a graduate student, correct?”
Timidly, with soft spoken words, Changmin was asked that. He did not respond immediately. Yes, he was a student, but he did not want to open up about himself to a stranger. Even if they had lived next to each other for quite a few months.
Embracing the lack of response, the man perked up slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Kim Jaejoong, twenty-eight, and a freelance composer.” He was used to apologizing.
“Shim Changmin, twenty-six, senior grad student.”
Jaejoong blinked and carried on, taking in Changmin’s curt demeanor cautiously. “I have a favor to ask of you. My cat -” A mewl cried out from the adjacent room, as if the hiding cat knew it was being talked about. “My cat and my new dog don’t really get along, and I have to leave them alone often. I was hoping that if I gave you a spare key, you could check on them if you hear any strange noises.” His pearly eyes blinked again, and the wateriness did not go away.
‘If you hear any strange noises.’
Changmin accepted the key, thanked Jaejoong for the meal, (“maybe a little less salt next time”), and returned to his apartment to sleep once more.
The apartment floor is set up so that the stairs are directly to the right of Changmin’s apartment and Jaejoong is to the left at the end of the hall. Noise isn’t really a problem because the rooms bordering the stairs aren’t used that frequently. The rooms he does use happen to be right next to Jaejoong’s mirror image apartment. The walls aren’t that thick and Changmin can hear Jaejoong’s dinner party well into the night.
Changmin wasn’t bothered. He was simply watching variety show reruns and eating. Eating and listening.
Laughter. He recognizes Jaejoong. And another man. They talk of wine. How delicious it is. The brand is French. Some Italian is in the wine cooler. Someone brought Californian as a gift. All from the year 1986. It might be a birthday. There is lots of laughter. “I can’t drink too much, Doctor’s orders,” is a giggle. “Maybe just a little more,” is another.
“The food is great!” Someone yelled. Changmin could smell it through the walls. Jaejoong spent all afternoon cooking. He sang and danced and entertained himself all through the process. At least, Changmin imagines that he did. He did hear the humming. Changmin hoped it wasn’t as salty as the jjajjangmyeon.
Sweet jazz played, and Changmin imagined that the apartment is filled with sophisticated Millennials dressed up in cocktail dresses and suits. They tell jokes about politicians and laugh at some business endeavor gone wrong. No one is overly sexual. Only the ugly get drunk. Someone gets promoted.
But it was only a song on the radio. Jaejoong’s laughter filled the apartment. The floor echoed with his voice. A glass drops, shatters, splits apart. A girl shrieks. Jaejoong is yelling. “Who the fuck put a glass in my hand!” He doesn’t actually care for an answer.
The noise was gone. Only the television and empty static filled the air. Changmin held his breath along with all the guests. Then he recognized the voice of that stranger trying to soothe his friend. “It’s okay, it’s just a glass. We can clean it up.”
“Don’t ever let me hold glass! I always drop it!” Loud thudding, and a door slams. Someone crying has entered Jaejoong’s room. Changmin assumes it’s Jaejoong’s room. It is on the other side of Changmin’s bedroom wall. And sometimes, he hears pleasured moans and headboards creaking.
Glass was swept across the ground and making a scratching squeal. “It’d be better if we called it a night. He’s probably just tired.” The stranger’s voice said. “No, I’ll clean the wine. Just go.”
Everyone left.
Tap, tap, tap. Changmin lied in bed. The raps on wood coming from the other side. “Jaejoong, I’m going now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yoochun,” Jaejoong whined. “Come fuck me.” Changmin bit his lip. Yoochun didn’t answer.
“Not today.” Changmin barely heard the whisper.
The bedroom door closed.
“You better come back here and fuck my fucking brains out!”
The front door locked and padding thrummed down the hall.
Jaejoong huffed, his breath heavy. He probably rolled his eyes too. The room felt hot. Changmin was much too hot. Even though he was naked except his underwear. Hot. Jaejoong started squeaking. His breath hitching. A small pop, like the lid of a bottle. Something shook. Shaking like a maraca. Something else. The cap of a tube. Small grunts. That moan. And Changmin was too hot. Pressed up against the wall. Much too hot.
He fell out of bed, put on some shorts, and grabbed the key. It fit perfectly into the door. Changmin walked into Jaejoong’s apartment and saw the remains of the party with the hall light. With the front door though, it took muscle memory and quick thinking to wander to the bedroom.
Door. It smoothly sailed open and revealed the beauty inside. Jaejoong gasped. “I heard strange noises.” Changmin muttered, eyes transfixed on Jaejoong’s body. He lay on the bed with his legs spread across two pillows and his back propped up on a backboard. His fingers were deep within himself and coated with lubricant. Beautiful. He was beautifully erect.
“Here to take advantage of me?” Jaejoong had a shit-faced grin.
Was he taking advantage of Jaejoong? Changmin really wanted to respond properly, but the way those fingers disappeared left him speechless. His mouth was dry. And damn he was hot. Hot and hard.
Jaejoong continued to wiggled his fingers around and take pleasure with every movement. He started twisting his legs and lifting his butt, only goading Changmin on. Changmin climbed into bed, his clothes already off, and added to the sounds in the night. Jaejoong’s hands shook the entire night, clutching the sheets, shaking until the veins popped out. “They’re going to increase my dosage and it’ll be okay.”
“It’ll be okay.” Changmin kissed Jaejoong’s sweaty forehead and held him in his arms.
Yoochun returned Jaejoong from the doctor’s the day before and Jaejoong hadn’t left his room since then. Changmin was working on his final papers and getting everything together for a Lab. His neighbor was as silent as emptiness.
Why isn’t he at work? Isn’t he a composer? Why doesn’t he ever make music at home? Where have all the good sounds gone?
Silence for several days, then Yoochun came back. Changmin heard him as he was returning from buying ramyeon at the convenience store right by the apartment. Front door left ajar, the stranger was shouting. “Why didn’t you make anything to eat?” It's a frantic shout.
Jaejoong cried. “Please.” And Yoochun stormed out in search of someone. He saw Changmin immediately and grabbed him by the scruff of his dirty tee.
Eyes dangerous, nostrils flaring, hair standing on end. “He said you would look after him. He said you had a key. He said you could be trusted.”
Changmin was taller than Yoochun also, but he felt so small, as if he’d let down a parent and somehow his little sister had died or something to that affect. In a small feeble voice, “I didn’t hear anything strange.”
Yoochun punched him square in the jaw and shoved him to the ground. Changmin winced as he fell onto the shopping bag and felt the ramyeon cup split open and get crushed under his weight. Yoochun had already gone back inside and retrieved Jaejoong by hauling him onto his shoulder and gently dragging him out.
His lips were dry, his clothes hung off his body, and he could hardly keep his eyes open. Changmin watched them leave.
“Whether they changed your dosage or not doesn’t matter, you just need to make sure to take your medication.” The stranger scolded. Changmin waited against the wall. Waiting for Yoochun to leave. It took awhile, but he finally left with the threat to return later. Jaejoong’s response was grumbling.
When he couldn’t hear Yoochun anymore, Changmin crept out into the hallway and hurried to Jaejoong’s, unlocking it in one movement. Inside, the lights were dim, but still had a homely feel. It was cold. Jaejoong was wrapped in a blanket on the couch, staring at the television blankly. Changmin sat next to him and scooped him up and plopped him on his lap. “Hey.”
Though it wasn’t bright, Jaejoong still smiled. “Hey, sorry about the other day.”
Changmin shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I failed you.”
Jaejoong hid his face in his blanket, only his eyes peeking out to stare at Changmin. “I didn’t tell you, but I’m bi-polar.” He bit his chapped lips and waited for a reply.
“I know,” Changmin said softly. “I’ve worked at the pharmacy that supplies your medicine for over a year now. I’ve known the whole time.” He felt terrible about it. He had worked in the back room, refilling orders and invading everyone’s privacy without seeing their faces and he had known. He’d known all along that Jaejoong needed him. And he didn’t help. He couldn’t help.
Pure Jaejoong started crying. “You still came to me.” Pure Jaejoong was thankful that someone was listening for him for so long. “Thank you.”
Changmin hugged Jaejoong tightly, embrace guilty and apologetic, because he was such an awful person.
*Lithium is a medication used to treat bi-polar disorder. Side effects can be dizziness, nausea, hand tremors, increased thirst and urination, vomiting, diarrhea, weight gain, impaired memory, poor concentration, drowsiness, muscle weakness, hair loss, decreased thyroid function, kidney problems and so on. Symptoms in this story reflect Jaejoong's lithium intake and his bi-polar symptoms.
Rating: R
Genre: Angst probably
Summary: Changmin is Jaejoong’s neighbor and he can hear all the things that go on inside his apartment.
A/N: Another story influenced by the psychology class I took. Prompt 47.
Muffled through the walls between their apartments, Changmin heard the light whimper of his neighbor talking to someone. “Getting my blood checked, again.” He didn’t really have time to concern himself with his neighbor’s health and instead put on some noise canceling headphones and continued working on his thesis. The more he got done now would allow for more free time later in the week.
Within half an hour, someone was knocking on his neighbor’s door. Minutes after that, the person was pounding on it and demanding that the door be opened. “Jaejoong! Open up! Are you okay? Jaejoong! Please!” The disturbance was enough for Changmin to leave his desk and press an ear to his own front door. He could hear the anxious pacing of the stranger and his distressed mutterings. Changmin almost wanted to help, but what could he do?
It wasn’t his business anyway. He returned to his desk. But he did not start working. He stared at the wall that bordered their apartments. Stared. And listened. From behind the wall was the sound of retching. Then flushing. Tap water running at full capacity. And sobbing.
The neighbor’s house phone chirped shrilly. Banging. Slamming. Thudding. A breathless, “I’m coming. Thanks, Yoochun.” Keys jingled, the door opened and closed, the lock snapped.
Changmin put the headphones back on and started editing his paper.
Morning, or perhaps afternoon, but the doorbell woke him up so it was morning. Changmin slipped into some pants, sniffed his armpits, and shuffled to the door. He flicked the lock and pulled the door open, stopping where the chain reached. Eye to eye with his neighbor, he snorted to retract his runny nose, and mumbled, “Yes?”
Owlish, fretting, smiling brightly. His neighbor had flushed, puffy cheeks and thin black hair just barely touching his ears. Only a few centimeters shorter than him but still petite looking. Not fragile, but definitely not healthy. He twitched. Smiled. “I wanted to invite you over for lunch, but it seems I’ve woken you up. I’m sorry.”
Changmin sniffed again, his morning sniffles easing. He blinked, rubbed the crust out of his eye, and nodded. “Let me get dressed. What are you making?”
His smiled brightened several watts; he was beaming. “Just some simple things. I have jjajjangmyeon ready to serve and my mother sent me some more Kimchi. It’s not much, but I didn’t know what you would like.”
“I’ll eat anything. Be over in a few.” Then he closed the door dismissively and returned to his room to dress. Perhaps he had hurt his neighbor’s feelings, but he had just woken up and didn’t really care. Hungry.
Not long after, he was knocking on the door and waiting. Unlike the day the stranger came, his neighbor answered almost immediately with that bright smile on his face. Bright, bitter smile.
The layout was the opposite of Changmin’s, and it threw him for a loop. The furnishings were better though. Nice couches and chair, modern decorations, and a good multimedia system. Of course, the neighbor was already working and could afford these luxuries.
He was led into the kitchen where he sat a high table already set with the dishes. “Go ahead and serve yourself.” He indicated to the large pot on the stove. “Would you like something to drink?” The smiling man asked, and Changmin nodded and grabbed his bowl.
“Water -I did just wake up.” Water was filled into a clean glass and into a half empty cup. Changmin took the glass and sat, bowl filled with warm noodles.
They ate in silence for a few moments, but it was obvious that the other man wanted to say something. Barely touching his bowl while Changmin was nearly finished (though too salty, it was tasty), the host spoke up. “You’re a graduate student, correct?”
Timidly, with soft spoken words, Changmin was asked that. He did not respond immediately. Yes, he was a student, but he did not want to open up about himself to a stranger. Even if they had lived next to each other for quite a few months.
Embracing the lack of response, the man perked up slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Kim Jaejoong, twenty-eight, and a freelance composer.” He was used to apologizing.
“Shim Changmin, twenty-six, senior grad student.”
Jaejoong blinked and carried on, taking in Changmin’s curt demeanor cautiously. “I have a favor to ask of you. My cat -” A mewl cried out from the adjacent room, as if the hiding cat knew it was being talked about. “My cat and my new dog don’t really get along, and I have to leave them alone often. I was hoping that if I gave you a spare key, you could check on them if you hear any strange noises.” His pearly eyes blinked again, and the wateriness did not go away.
‘If you hear any strange noises.’
Changmin accepted the key, thanked Jaejoong for the meal, (“maybe a little less salt next time”), and returned to his apartment to sleep once more.
The apartment floor is set up so that the stairs are directly to the right of Changmin’s apartment and Jaejoong is to the left at the end of the hall. Noise isn’t really a problem because the rooms bordering the stairs aren’t used that frequently. The rooms he does use happen to be right next to Jaejoong’s mirror image apartment. The walls aren’t that thick and Changmin can hear Jaejoong’s dinner party well into the night.
Changmin wasn’t bothered. He was simply watching variety show reruns and eating. Eating and listening.
Laughter. He recognizes Jaejoong. And another man. They talk of wine. How delicious it is. The brand is French. Some Italian is in the wine cooler. Someone brought Californian as a gift. All from the year 1986. It might be a birthday. There is lots of laughter. “I can’t drink too much, Doctor’s orders,” is a giggle. “Maybe just a little more,” is another.
“The food is great!” Someone yelled. Changmin could smell it through the walls. Jaejoong spent all afternoon cooking. He sang and danced and entertained himself all through the process. At least, Changmin imagines that he did. He did hear the humming. Changmin hoped it wasn’t as salty as the jjajjangmyeon.
Sweet jazz played, and Changmin imagined that the apartment is filled with sophisticated Millennials dressed up in cocktail dresses and suits. They tell jokes about politicians and laugh at some business endeavor gone wrong. No one is overly sexual. Only the ugly get drunk. Someone gets promoted.
But it was only a song on the radio. Jaejoong’s laughter filled the apartment. The floor echoed with his voice. A glass drops, shatters, splits apart. A girl shrieks. Jaejoong is yelling. “Who the fuck put a glass in my hand!” He doesn’t actually care for an answer.
The noise was gone. Only the television and empty static filled the air. Changmin held his breath along with all the guests. Then he recognized the voice of that stranger trying to soothe his friend. “It’s okay, it’s just a glass. We can clean it up.”
“Don’t ever let me hold glass! I always drop it!” Loud thudding, and a door slams. Someone crying has entered Jaejoong’s room. Changmin assumes it’s Jaejoong’s room. It is on the other side of Changmin’s bedroom wall. And sometimes, he hears pleasured moans and headboards creaking.
Glass was swept across the ground and making a scratching squeal. “It’d be better if we called it a night. He’s probably just tired.” The stranger’s voice said. “No, I’ll clean the wine. Just go.”
Everyone left.
Tap, tap, tap. Changmin lied in bed. The raps on wood coming from the other side. “Jaejoong, I’m going now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yoochun,” Jaejoong whined. “Come fuck me.” Changmin bit his lip. Yoochun didn’t answer.
“Not today.” Changmin barely heard the whisper.
The bedroom door closed.
“You better come back here and fuck my fucking brains out!”
The front door locked and padding thrummed down the hall.
Jaejoong huffed, his breath heavy. He probably rolled his eyes too. The room felt hot. Changmin was much too hot. Even though he was naked except his underwear. Hot. Jaejoong started squeaking. His breath hitching. A small pop, like the lid of a bottle. Something shook. Shaking like a maraca. Something else. The cap of a tube. Small grunts. That moan. And Changmin was too hot. Pressed up against the wall. Much too hot.
He fell out of bed, put on some shorts, and grabbed the key. It fit perfectly into the door. Changmin walked into Jaejoong’s apartment and saw the remains of the party with the hall light. With the front door though, it took muscle memory and quick thinking to wander to the bedroom.
Door. It smoothly sailed open and revealed the beauty inside. Jaejoong gasped. “I heard strange noises.” Changmin muttered, eyes transfixed on Jaejoong’s body. He lay on the bed with his legs spread across two pillows and his back propped up on a backboard. His fingers were deep within himself and coated with lubricant. Beautiful. He was beautifully erect.
“Here to take advantage of me?” Jaejoong had a shit-faced grin.
Was he taking advantage of Jaejoong? Changmin really wanted to respond properly, but the way those fingers disappeared left him speechless. His mouth was dry. And damn he was hot. Hot and hard.
Jaejoong continued to wiggled his fingers around and take pleasure with every movement. He started twisting his legs and lifting his butt, only goading Changmin on. Changmin climbed into bed, his clothes already off, and added to the sounds in the night. Jaejoong’s hands shook the entire night, clutching the sheets, shaking until the veins popped out. “They’re going to increase my dosage and it’ll be okay.”
“It’ll be okay.” Changmin kissed Jaejoong’s sweaty forehead and held him in his arms.
Yoochun returned Jaejoong from the doctor’s the day before and Jaejoong hadn’t left his room since then. Changmin was working on his final papers and getting everything together for a Lab. His neighbor was as silent as emptiness.
Why isn’t he at work? Isn’t he a composer? Why doesn’t he ever make music at home? Where have all the good sounds gone?
Silence for several days, then Yoochun came back. Changmin heard him as he was returning from buying ramyeon at the convenience store right by the apartment. Front door left ajar, the stranger was shouting. “Why didn’t you make anything to eat?” It's a frantic shout.
Jaejoong cried. “Please.” And Yoochun stormed out in search of someone. He saw Changmin immediately and grabbed him by the scruff of his dirty tee.
Eyes dangerous, nostrils flaring, hair standing on end. “He said you would look after him. He said you had a key. He said you could be trusted.”
Changmin was taller than Yoochun also, but he felt so small, as if he’d let down a parent and somehow his little sister had died or something to that affect. In a small feeble voice, “I didn’t hear anything strange.”
Yoochun punched him square in the jaw and shoved him to the ground. Changmin winced as he fell onto the shopping bag and felt the ramyeon cup split open and get crushed under his weight. Yoochun had already gone back inside and retrieved Jaejoong by hauling him onto his shoulder and gently dragging him out.
His lips were dry, his clothes hung off his body, and he could hardly keep his eyes open. Changmin watched them leave.
“Whether they changed your dosage or not doesn’t matter, you just need to make sure to take your medication.” The stranger scolded. Changmin waited against the wall. Waiting for Yoochun to leave. It took awhile, but he finally left with the threat to return later. Jaejoong’s response was grumbling.
When he couldn’t hear Yoochun anymore, Changmin crept out into the hallway and hurried to Jaejoong’s, unlocking it in one movement. Inside, the lights were dim, but still had a homely feel. It was cold. Jaejoong was wrapped in a blanket on the couch, staring at the television blankly. Changmin sat next to him and scooped him up and plopped him on his lap. “Hey.”
Though it wasn’t bright, Jaejoong still smiled. “Hey, sorry about the other day.”
Changmin shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I failed you.”
Jaejoong hid his face in his blanket, only his eyes peeking out to stare at Changmin. “I didn’t tell you, but I’m bi-polar.” He bit his chapped lips and waited for a reply.
“I know,” Changmin said softly. “I’ve worked at the pharmacy that supplies your medicine for over a year now. I’ve known the whole time.” He felt terrible about it. He had worked in the back room, refilling orders and invading everyone’s privacy without seeing their faces and he had known. He’d known all along that Jaejoong needed him. And he didn’t help. He couldn’t help.
Pure Jaejoong started crying. “You still came to me.” Pure Jaejoong was thankful that someone was listening for him for so long. “Thank you.”
Changmin hugged Jaejoong tightly, embrace guilty and apologetic, because he was such an awful person.
*Lithium is a medication used to treat bi-polar disorder. Side effects can be dizziness, nausea, hand tremors, increased thirst and urination, vomiting, diarrhea, weight gain, impaired memory, poor concentration, drowsiness, muscle weakness, hair loss, decreased thyroid function, kidney problems and so on. Symptoms in this story reflect Jaejoong's lithium intake and his bi-polar symptoms.