[Unfinished] 1.2 The Discovery of Joy
I've finally admitted to myself that I will not finish this story. There was still so much to be written.
This was originally written for the city_of_gods contest but it just never happened.
Hope you like.
Unfinished: The Discovery of Joy
Changmin/Yoochun, side Yunho/Jaejoong, slight Changmin/Junsu
R
General, Romance, Angst
He watches the police car move slowly down the street, hiding himself low in his seat.
"We're going to get caught," he can hear his friend speak, terrified. Changmin looks at him and presses a hand to his mouth.
"Be quiet," he whispers harshly. "I swear if they catch us because you're being a pansy I'm going to kick your ass," he warns and keeps his eyes on the slow moving vehicle. "Get down," he breathes and the both of them slump even lower to prevent detection.
The sound of their heavy breathing envelopes the silence, he can feel his adrenaline pumping and the rush of excitement makes him feel high and lightheaded.
"I don't like this. When you said you wanted to have fun I thought we would get a couple beers and hang out," he mutters to himself. "I didn't think you meant stealing a car."
Changmin punches him in the ribs and it shuts his friend up. "You clearly don't understand me," he looks at him with sparkling eyes, filled with mischief. "I think he's gone," he chances a glance over the steering wheel and he can see the tail lights of the cop car turning a corner down the street. "Get up," he sits up and moves restlessly in the seat, bringing his hands down to the loose wires he managed to pull out before he saw the police.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Junsu!" Changmin yells, "get a fucking grip!" he glares at him and tries to get a better look at the wires. "If you freak out you're going to do something that'll get us caught and if you get us caught-"
"Yeah yeah, you'll kick my ass," he grumbles and whips his head around keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious.
"Just make sure no one is watching, that's all you have to do," he pulls out a small flashlight and shines it where he needs to work. "Almost got it," he twists the open circuits together and it takes not but a minute before the car revs and Changmin smiles in success. He turns to Junsu who looks frozen in horror. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he grins and pulls into the street pressing the gas and leaving streaks of tire marks on the road behind them.
Changmin turns weary eyes to Junsu who's trying not to cry. "Would you calm down?" he shoves his shoulder and stands up thrusting his hands into his jean pockets. "Fuck, if you start crying someone's going to take you into the corner and fuck you for being such a pussy," he tells him bluntly though he's not so sure and he really only knows what happens in jail from American television.
"I hate you," Junsu looks over at the other men, drunk, smelling like funk and he pulls his leather jacket closer to his body, crossing his arms over in protection. "I fucking hate you."
Changmin rolls his eyes and walks to the front of the cell. "Hey! Can I make my fucking phone call!?" he screams at a passing officer and the man looks at him with a scowl before he bangs a baton at the iron bars.
"Get back," he hollers and moves on.
Changmin steps back in surprise and walks back to the bench beside his friend. "Don't cry," he mutters as he takes a seat beside him and Junsu grabs hold of his arm.
"I'm not going to cry," he whispers harshly into his ear keeping his eyes on everyone else in the holding cell. "I can't believe I'm in here," he sighs helplessly and digs his fingers painfully into Changmin's skin.
"If you just ignore them, they won't bother you," Changmin keeps his eyes straight ahead, watching the officers talking, moving around, shuffling papers. He turns and glances at his terrified friend. "I'm sorry," he apologizes and Junsu glares at him.
"I'm never going out with you again," he digs his fingers even deeper and Changmin bites his lip, refusing to acknowledge he's in actual pain.
"You!" A short, stocky officer begins opening the cell, pointing to Changmin, "you can make your phone call," he informs him and Changmin stands up, Junsu moving with him. "You stay here," he reaches for his weapon and Changmin pries Junsu's fingers from his arm.
"You'll be fine. I'll be gone a second," he tries his best to soothe him and Junsu lets go, making his way back to the bench, making himself as small as possible.
Changmin walks out, his elbow clutched tightly in the guard's hand as he leads him to the phone. "You've got five minutes," he informs him and releases him though doesn't go far and leans against the wall, watching him closely.
Changmin calls the first person he can think of and although he'll get hell and possibly a slap in the face, it's the only one who'll get him out of his jam.
Changmin keeps his eyes on the ground and Junsu is muttering apology after apology like a prayer.
"I won't tell your parents about this, Junsu. I'm almost certain you had nothing to do with it."
Changmin twist his lips in annoyance, "It's not like I pressed a gun to his head," he mutters and winces when he gets a smack on the back of his head. "That's not necessary," he rubs at his hair and stands back once their driver opens the door for them.
"Be quiet, Changmin. Get in, Junsu."
Junsu looks over at him as he slides inside the car first. Before Changmin gets in the door closes and he pulls his hand away before his fingers get crushed. "Walk home."
"Umma-" he begins in surprise but she shakes her head and waves her hand to silence him.
"The only reason I answered that phone was to not wake up your father. Now go on," she gives him a push as she tells the driver to open the door again. "By no means are you allowed to let him inside," she instructs and slides in beside Junsu who's poking his head out looking horribly sorry for him. "Let's go."
Changmin looks at their driver and he gives him a disapproving frown. He's almost too shocked to fully understand what is happening but the sound of the car starting up brings him back to reality and he bangs at the door.
"Umma! Umma, you can't be serious!" he yells incredulously and when the window drops only to reveal her eyes and he sees the anger and disappointment in them he steps back almost as if he's been struck.
"You're getting too old for these games, Changmin. Stealing cars? Jail? Is that how I raised you?" she asks over the noise of the engine. He shakes his head and she sighs. "It's time you be punished. Now start walking."
His eyes widen in realization that this is no joke. "It's fifteen miles from here!" he cries trying to open the door but it's locked and his adrenaline is soon pumping for a purely different reason. "The sun will be out by then!"
She glares at him. "Then I suggest you get started," she instructs and waves her hand to leave.
Changmin yells in frustration and pulls at the door handle, moving along with the wheels. "Umma!"
"You want to act like a criminal then I will treat you like a criminal. Get away from this car," she orders and rolls the window back up as the car pulls into the street.
"Is this how you treat your only son!?" he yells angrily as they leave him behind.
He watches horrified, dazed, frozen in disbelief as the car drives further and further away. "Fuck!" he screams at the top of his lungs and kicks at a beer bottle lying in the street, sending it soaring to shatter on the other side. "Fuck!" he pulls at his hair and looks around. He can see a couple officers watching him and he wants to punch the smiles from their faces. He moves back onto the sidewalk and grabs for his wallet. He could take a taxi or at least he could have if he had any money, which he doesn't and he wonders if his mother took it or the police stole it.
"Oh fuck," he groans and looks both ways down the sidewalk. He's not familiar with the neighborhood and doesn't know where to go but he can't just stand there, nothing will be accomplished. He considers for a moment trying to steal another car but if he gets caught again he'll probably be disinherited. He decides to follow the way he believes the car went and begins making his way north.
He shoves his hands into his coat pockets and keeps his head down. It's late and only crazy, drunk people are on the street and when a woman asks if he's looking for some fun he walks faster away from her.
He's about a mile out when he remembers his phone. Changmin makes his way over to a lamppost and leans against it, keeping himself visible in the dark night as he calls Jaejoong. As if his prayers have been answered he picks up almost immediately.
"I need you to come get me," he spills before Jaejoong has the chance to say hello. There's an awful bang in the distance followed by loud screaming and he looks up to see if he can find the source and prays he isn't anywhere near it. "Now."
There's something rather condescending about the sound of his laughter. "Junsu told me you got arrested again. You're so stupid."
He'll get Junsu for that later but right now he just needs to be saved. He'll let Jaejoong laugh at him all night if only he'll pick him up and take him home. "Shut the fuck up and come get me," he whines.
Jaejoong has been the only person aside from his parents to hear him whine. They've been friends since they were fed as babies with silver spoons. Changmin pulls closer into the light when a man walks by talking to himself.
"Fuck you've got to get me now," he presses the phone to his ear and keeps his eyes low and away from everyone else that passes.
Jaejoong's quiet for a moment. "I'd love to but I can't," he really does sound sorry as he talks to him.
Changmin feels his shoulders fall and a terrible sense of fear crawling from his stomach up to his chest. "Are you kidding me?" his fingers clutch desperately at the lamp post and he jumps when a rat runs over his shoe.
"Look, your mom called and threatened to tell my dad about that time we skipped school and took that trip to Jeju last year if I got you. You are to learn a lesson, young man," he repeats what is obviously verbatim of what his mother said to him and starts cracking up but all Changmin can hear is his mother's voice and how she must really be upset with him. She's never been angry with him but lately, the last few years she seems to be aging faster and it's because of him. He tries not to think about it. Forget the disappointment that's replaced what used to be fondness in her eyes for him.
"Fuck," he groans. "I messed up."
"You sure did," Jaejoong agrees. "Hey, I've. Well, I've got to go," he says and his voice becomes slightly secretive and low. "Umm and you shouldn't bother calling Yunho either," he says after a while.
He was his last resort. "Did she threaten him too?"
"Well, uh, no. Not quite," Jaejoong begins to sound even weirder, "I suppose if he could answer his phone she may have," and his voice drops off momentarily. "He's kind of… tied up. To my bed."
Changmin groans and wishes he hadn't heard that. "You're sick."
"Not sick, experimental," Jaejoong laughs. "Look I think the silk is giving him a rash so I've got to go. Good luck, hope you make it home in one piece or at least with a really good story."
"Jaejoong, come on!" he yells but he's already heard the definitive click of rejection and he yells out in frustration. Changmin glares at his phone. So much for blood brothers, so much for having someone's back. He fumes and dials the phone before he really has the sense to stop himself.
"What's your emergency?"
"Yes, hello, I keep hearing suspicious screaming from next door and I don't know what's going on but it doesn't sound right. I think someone is attacking him. I'm in a wheel chair right now so I called you, otherwise I would check it out myself."
"What's the address?" the operator asks quickly and Changmin gives him Jaejoong's address.
"Someone keeps screaming and I don't know if he's being hurt but you know, I just thought I would call to get someone over there. I'm very concerned; I know they have a teenager, hope he's not getting hurt. The screaming is just really loud."
"You did the right thing, someone is on their way," the operator tells him before Changmin hangs up abruptly. That'll teach him, even though he knows Jaejoong will really kill him when he finds out what he did.
Changmin soon forgets that and thinks further onto his current situation and brings a hand to his eyes and rubs at them, telling himself to calm down and get a grip. He's not a child and his instincts, more often than not, have led him to where he needs to go.
He sighs trying to figure out how to get out of this horrible mess. He doesn't really know what to do but he can't just stay and stand there. It will clearly bring unwanted attention to him. He's severely out of place with this expensive jacket and rich boy clothing. He thinks it's only a matter of time before a hoodlum accosts him with a switchblade, demanding his designer shoes.
And then, for a brief moment he considers calling his mother, asking for forgiveness and begging her to send a car, though he has no idea where he is.
Changmin goes as far as dialing her number and looks at the screen once he's ready to press the call button. Flashes of disappointment overtake him and he sighs dejectedly, she probably wouldn't pick up even if he tried so he closes his phone and shoves it into his pocket. He's on his own and needs to find his way back home without relying on anyone else.
It takes a moment before he releases the safety of light and he begins walking along the darkened street. He zips up his jacket and keeps his hands in his pockets, making a mental note to ignore the incessant requests for money thought after a good three blocks and the 20th person has asked him his temper flares.
"I don't have any money!" he yells at the homeless man, dressed in rags and skinny to the bone. "Look," he pulls out his wallet wildly, thrusting it at him, opened and empty and the man cowers back in surprise. "I don't have any fucking money!" he tells him again and keeps moving.
He wishes he hadn't been so stupid, if he acted like a proper adult he could be at home in his bed, dreaming of his next wild scheme but he finds himself walking the streets in the middle of the early morning and it's horrible. The stench of the night is terrible and he thinks he's seen enough people pissing on the wall to promise himself of never returning to this part of town ever again.
It's after the fifth block and maybe the 25th homeless man who begs him for money he erupts with unbridled frustration and anger.
"If I had money do you think I would be here?" he grabs him by the torn collar of his shirt, raging in fury and shaking him until he's begging to be released. "Fuck!" Changmin yells into his dirty face and throws him aside. "I'm sorry," he mutters watching guiltily as he crawls away in horror.
"That's not very kind of you," comes a deep voice from the right and Changmin pivots.
There's man in a top hat and ankle length fur coat standing right beside him with an inappropriate smile of serenity on his face. Changmin feels himself stumble back in surprise and runs into a city trashcan he hadn't notice before. "Oh, shit," he grabs at his jacket, right above the furiously beating heart in his chest. "I didn't. I didn't mean-"
The man looks over at the dirty, destitute beggar and gives him a couple bills. "Buy yourself some food," he says kindly and the man rushes to him on his knees, clutching at his coat.
"Thank you. Thank you," he cries and Changmin watches in shock at the tears pooling in his eyes in complete gratitude. "Thank you."
Changmin holds his breath listening to the deep voice who whispers 'you're welcome' and pries the fingers from his coat. He turns to him with sparkling eyes. "Being unkind to those who are less fortunate than you is shameful," he speaks softly, kindly and for what it's worth, nonjudgmental.
Changmin takes a step back, keeping his eyes him. "I have no money," he tells him apologetically.
The man nods in understanding and looks around. "It's a lovely night, lots of stars in the sky."
Changmin finds himself looking to the heavens but his indulgence is short lived. "I need money," he says almost immediately and loathes how desperate he sounds in his own ears. He's never had to ask anyone for money. Never.
The man looks at him and smiles. "I have a poker chip," he says as he buries his hand in his pocket to reveal a multicolored coin. "You can have it," he hands it to him.
He looks at him in disbelief "No. Money," he says again just in case he didn't understand before. "I need money."
He produces the chip again. "This is money," he says nicely and Changmin shakes his head dumbfounded.
"I'll give you anything," he moves forward, pleadingly and tries not to watch the woman vomiting on herself while she sleeps. He needs to get out now. "You can have anything."
He looks interested and sparked with intrigue at the offer. "Anything? That's quite a generous offer," he smiles.
Changmin nods eagerly. "Anything you want," he tells him.
The man nods in resolution. "I would like world peace," he says.
And Changmin's head falls forward in incredulity. "World peace," he breathes and it sounds even more ludicrous when he repeats it from his own mouth.
But now the man is chuckling to himself. "You said anything. I would really like to have world peace," he says honestly.
"Oh my god," Changmin clenches his fists in complete frustration. "I meant anything within reason!" and Changmin controls the flourishing aggravation that's on the brink of complete anger. "I'll give you my shoes. My jacket," he begins to slide it off his shoulders, "it's very expensive. It's real leather," he tells him and pulls it off completely offering it to the man.
"Oh. No thank you. I have a coat. It's very nice," he looks down at himself and brushes a hand along the fur in reverence, "it's very warm. Please keep yours. I prefer mine," he looks at him with the same smile that Changmin has increasingly found patronizing. "And you will probably need your shoes and mine are a very capable pair," he adds while he presents them. They look patent leather under the light of the moon.
Changmin tells himself to breathe and counts to five before he looks into the strangers eyes and finds them glittering. "Please, I need to get home and I have no money." He tries not to shake the insanity from him but he restrains himself and merely casts sorrowful eyes at him. "I can pay you back, I swear," he promises and hopes this is what this stranger has been waiting to hear. Compensation for his good deed, although Changmin's pretty sure the beggar will not be paying him back.
The man nods in resolution and finally pulls out a large wad of bills. Changmin feels the air from his lungs slip past his mouth in a rush of gratitude and success. "I just so happen to have on hand quite a bit of money," the man who has yet to mention a name licks the pad of his thumb and shuffles through the money, counting it out loud with a proud voice and Changmin looks around in alarm. If he were to be mugged, he's pretty sure he would end up in the gutter, beaten without clothes on his body or probably worse, dead. "It's far more than I actually need and I plan to walk home," he says without much regard to the dark night and questionable neighborhood. He looks at Changmin momentarily. "You said you needed money right?"
For a moment he's thrown off course because hasn't this man been listening to him at all? Unfortunately the whimsical smile on his face and the sparkle behind his eyes leaves Changmin thinking perhaps he was never really paying attention to him at all. "I promise to pay you back," he tells him and as luck would have it a yellow cab makes it way down the street, the first one he's seen all night and Changmin waves it down.
It's less than a minute before it stops right in front of them and waits, loud Trot music blasting from the speakers. Changmin groans, he's not particularly fond of Trot music. "Need a ride?" the driver asks and Changmin nods holding his hand up.
He turns to the man quickly. "If you could just tell me your name and give me an address I'll send you the money as soon as I can. Tomorrow morning," he insists.
The man nods and hands over the entire stack of money with a smile. "This should cover the expense," he tells him brightly and Changmin's mouth falls open.
There is clearly something wrong with the guy. People aren't like this. "No," he shakes his head and takes only a few bills and hands over the rest. "I just need enough for the ride home. Put that away," he shoves the money into his hand. "It's the middle of the night, are you crazy?" he whispers harshly. "Who are you?" he asks while looking around them in case someone is casing the area ready to attack once he's gone. Fortunately there are only people sleeping and the streets are quiet save it for the music coming from the cab and the impatient driver.
"I'm Park Yoochun?" he smiles brightly and formally extends his hand out to him. "Who are you?"
Changmin stares at him for a moment before he shakes his hand. "Changmin," he doesn't say his last name though he doesn't completely understand why. A thought hits him for a moment, a non selfish, good Samaritan moment that only comes once in a life time. "Will you be ok?" he asks carefully. "Maybe you should come along and use it once I'm finished."
He shakes his head with a smile. "I'll be fine," he says easily. "Besides," he opens his jacket to reveal a pair of floral print surfer shorts and a lime green polo. Changmin thinks he couldn't possibly be any weirder until he sees the holster and a gun. "I'm quite protected," he smiles with a chuckle and then leans in close and Changmin finds himself drawn into his personal space, "It's made out of plastic," he whispers with a laugh and Changmin pulls away dumbfounded. "But don't tell anyone," he winks.
"You're strange," he tells him flatly narrowing his eyes.
"Thank you," he smiles and hides behind the fur coat again.
"It's not a compliment," Changmin opens the door to the cab.
And Yoochun's smile drops but for mere a second. "Oh, well. Enjoy your ride home. I hope to see you again, Changmin," he smiles politely and Changmin looks at him, having no intention to ever see him again. He will mail him the money.
"Thank you for the money, I will pay you back," he assures and gets into the cab. It's while they are moving away that he remembers he never got his address and he tells the driver to stop, rolling down the window. "Wait!" he calls for Yoochun who hasn't moved.
He moves towards the open window. "Hello, meeting again so soon?" he asks and Changmin ignores him.
"You didn't give me an address to repay you," he tells him and Yoochun chews on his lip, his hand sliding into his coat pocket before he produce what looks like a lipstick tube. As Changmin watches him uncap it he comes to realize it is a lipstick tube.
"Here," he reaches out for him and Changmin extends his hand until Yoochun's fingers curl around his wrist. He's surprisingly warm and the touch is gentle. He watches quietly and feels the smooth sweeps along his palm.
"There you go," he pulls away and Changmin looks at the address. Yoochun's handwriting is quite nice. "Have a good night," he says and he turns to the driver. "Make sure you drive safely," he instructs and the driver snorts in contempt.
Changmin finds himself watching Yoochun until he can no longer see him and turns back around in his seat instructing the driver to start for his home. He looks down at his hand again and reads the address again.
"Weird," he mutters and looks out the window, watching the city night fly by.
His mother is asleep on a chair in the grand room when he finally gets to the sanctuary of his home. Changmin sighs as he walks closer, doing his best not to wake her. He can see the soft age lines around her eyes, the permanent frown that marks along the corners of her lips.
He looks for a blanket and pulls the shrug from the couch. He walks it over to his mother and places it gently on her. She stirs but doesn't wake and Changmin enjoyes watching her sleeping peacefully, for a moment he regrets the lines he's made. She worries too much for him and it's his fault.
Sometimes he wishes he were a better son. Most of the time he wishes his rebellion didn't affect her as often as it does but it's his doing and he knows… he won't stop. That's what makes his heart clench.
"Love you, Umma," he whispers before kissing her forehead and heading to his room. He tosses the change from the drive on his nightstand and falls into bed with exhaustion. Changmin finds himself looking at the lipstick stained address on his hand and he remembers the name, Park Yoochun.
"Weirdo," he mutters to himself and reaches for the light turning it off. In the morning he'll make sure to send the money to the address. The last thing he plans to do is ever see him again.
Changmin turns in his luxurious bed and curls his arms around a large body pillow snuggling deeply into the softness. In the morning he'll apologize to his mother when his father isn't around and then mail the money. Hopefully Jaejoong won't kill him before he has the chance to do either.
Changmin wakes up to the glorious smell of breakfast and the shuffling of someone in his room.
He opens his eyes and sees a housekeeper preparing to throw his garbage away.
"What are you doing in my room?" he asks her with a low, sleep filled voice, coughing into the morning.
She appears to be nervous and it doesn't surprise him. He's become quite a handful and rather mean to the staff of the house though he's completely aware that he's only doing it to show his dominance and status. "I'm sorry," she apologizes and bows at a ninety degree angle. "I didn't think you would wake up," she apologizes with a wavering voice.
Changmin wipes at his eyes and brushes his hand in ardent dismissal. "Get out," he mutters and sits up.
She nods and rushes to the door leaving at his immediate request.
He can feel the warmth of the sun on his cheeks and he wonders how long he slept. His dreams where flashes of poverty and destitute. He remembers a beggar pleading for food and a woman with five children behind her coat asking for money.
Changmin shakes his head free of the thoughts and throws the blankets aside, there's a stain on his pillow case and he reaches for it, it's red but not blood. With a slight hesitation he brings the pillow to his nose to take a whiff when he notices a faint red print on the inside of his hand. He sits up and looks to the palm of his hand. The print is smeared and almost illegible. The night returns in quick little flashes and Changmin remembers a long fur coat and a strange little man almost swallowed by the animal.
Park Yoochun
His memory recalls the eccentric samaritan. For a moment he considered it a dream, tosses the experience to a mere figment of his hyper imagination but the evidence is printed on his hand and clearly, it wasn't a dream.
Changmin finds a pen and paper in his night stand and jots down what is left of the smeared address before he gets out of bed. He'll send the money and be done with it.
He grabs underwear for his shower and makes a mental note to tell one of the maids to clean his pillow case, it looks like a hooker got a hold of it and had its way with it.
There is a plate of food where he normally sits and Changmin takes a seat and grabs his napkin.
"My son is so handsome," his father smiles before taking a drink of his coffee.
Changmin's lips turn at the tips as he reaches for his own ceramic mug of sweet smelling coffee. "Did you sleep well, Appa?" he asks, glancing at his mother who's mouth is turned down in a frown and he knows she's remembering the events of the previous night and just how much of a disappointment he's become.
His father nods and takes a big bite of his food. "What are your plans for today? I was hoping to have lunch with you this afternoon. I want to introduce you to a few associates of mine," he says proudly and Changmin feels a flush of embarrassment. He hasn't the heart to tell his father he isn't the least bit interested in inheriting the family business.
"Changmin will actually be busy today," his mother speaks up after a moment, sipping at her soup elegantly. Changmin looks at her with curious eyes and she pierces him with a poignant stare. The kind that lets him know she means business. "He's been inquiring about local volunteer work and I think I've found the perfect service for him," she smiles and Changmin feels his stomach twist in dread.
"Thank you, Umma," he says losing his appetite. The mere idea of it makes him want to throw up whatever he's eaten. He hopes it's not with poor people. Please let it not be with poor people. He's had his fill of them already.
"It's a soup kitchen on the other side of town. They are always looking for volunteers and they were very excited to accept his help," she smiles demurely at him and Changmin plasters a smile on his face. As fake as the blond hair his mother insists on keeping.
His father's eyes flicker brightly as he turns to his son. "I think that's fantastic," he chews in approval. "Well, if today is not a good day then perhaps tomorrow," he says and sets his plate aside, finished with his meal. "Volunteering will look good on your resume," he nods in satisfaction. "I want my son to have the best opportunities," he smiles.
Changmin forces to sustain the grin on his lips and keeps his eyes on his mother.
"After breakfast you're to wash up and then head straight to the location of your work. I made sure to call ahead and let them know you were coming in today," she says looking at her son straight in the eyes, unwavering and somewhat challenging and Changmin knows this is meant to be taken seriously.
"Thanks, mom," Changmin clenches his fist tight around the cloth and squeezes his fingers around the smooth fabric, hoping his nails won't leave marks. "You know I'm happy to help the community," he smiles and his mother narrows her eyes in suspicion.
"I'm glad to hear it," she offers a smile of gratitude though it's marred with force. "Changmin has grown up to be such an upstanding citizen," her voice feels forcefully sweet as she finishes the rest of her soup and Changmin knows it's wrong to hate his mother, but sometimes he can't help it.
"Tell the driver I'll be ready in a few minutes," Changmin pushes his plate away and wipes at his mouth, pulling back in his chair. "I just need to wash up and I'll be off," he tells his parents and his mother looks at him questionably.
"Five minutes," she says matter-of-factly and Changmin stands up, stretching his arms over his head as a yawn escapes his mouth.
"Ok," he nods in resolutely. "I'll be down in five minutes," he walks to his mother and kisses her on the cheek. She holds his face in her hands. The way she used to when he was a child who only wished for the undying love of his wonderful mother.
"I want to be proud of my son," she tells him softly, too quietly for his father to hear. "You are better than this, Changmin," she runs the pad of her thumb against his cheek before releasing him. "I raised a good son," she brushes his hair from his eyes, sweeping his bangs and Changmin feels like he's five years old again.
Changmin wants his mother to be proud of him; he's given her so many reasons to resent him as a human being, as a son. "I'll make you proud," he promises, though he doesn't know why he has to make her proud by working with poor people. "I should get ready," he tugs her hands from his face and gives them a gentle squeeze before he moves away.
"You have a long afternoon ahead of you," she tells him and Changmin straightens up. "Be prepared."
Changmin nods and glides past his father who grabs for his hand giving it a tight squeeze. "Be exceptional, my son," he tells him and Changmin can sense the undulating pride. Changmin finds it rather suffocating.
"I will," he nods and moves on through the house towards his bedroom. While he was downstairs a maid came in and he can see his room organized and his bed made. Changmin grabs his phone from the night stand and finds he has ten miss calls and three voice mails.
They are all from Jaejoong who swears to get back at him for sending the police to his house. Changmin laughs to himself; it's the first enjoyable thing that's happened to him all morning. He remembers to grab some money from his drawer to pay back this Yoochun character and plans to send the money on his way to his involuntary volunteer work.
Changmin nods to the same driver who refused to let him into the car the night before and sits down in the seat as the car starts up with a gentle rumble.
He watches the scenery pass him as the car moves easily through the streets; the neighborhood backdrop he's grown up in disappears to the slums of the city. In daylight the streets don't look as menacing but they always tell a different story, a story he experienced on his own.
"Will you be here when I'm finished?" he asks the driver, addressing him in the upmost pretentious voice he can muster. His name is Daemin and he's been servicing the family as long as he can remember; he is inexorably faithful to his mother, which has never been a good thing for him.
"I will be here," he tells Changmin and closes the door behind him the moment he steps out in front of the rundown building that has a line of unfortunate men standing around the corner. Changmin frowns to himself and pulls his jacket closer to his body. He hopes no one talks to him. The last thing he wants is to interact with the undesirables.
He has no clue what he's doing and almost screams at a man who tells him to get in the back of the line before he realizes he's there to help. Someone whose name he doesn't find important enough to remember tells him everything he needs to know before taking a spot in line to begin serving the food.
Changmin can't keep the scowl from his lips as he stands behind a shabby table, stained apron over his clothes and uncomfortable gloves on his hands. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he mutters to himself and it seems to catch the attention of the person standing beside him.
"Community service?" she asks and Changmin turns toward the voice. It belongs to a pretty girl with braided pig tails and too much make up.
Changmin clears his throat, "You can say that," he turns his eyes to the clock then to the double glass doors with a crowd waiting to come in.
She nods and smiles. "It's not so bad, you don't have to talk to them, just serve the soup and let them go on their way. Every once in a while you'll get a talker but just smile and ignore it and they'll move on," she offers some advice. "By the way, I'm Tiffany," she extends a small hand covered by plastic.
"Changmin," he shakes her hand loosely and shifts on his feet. "I'll keep that in mind," he says and sighs loudly.
There's a loud clamoring from the doors and a wave of voices encompasses the empty room as people begin to enter like cattle. Changmin prepares himself and grabs for the ladle when he sees the first man step in front of him.
He thinks it's going to be a long day.
His pot is almost empty when Changmin finally looks at the clock. It's been almost two hours and his feet are starting to hurt.
"What's the soup today?" a man asks when it's his turn. Changmin can smell the alcohol spewing from his dirty pores and feels sick.
"I don't know," he says and pours a spoonful into the small bowl.
The man frowns. "Looks like piss," he says and Changmin rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"Can't be worse than not having anything at all," he says and he can sense Tiffany looking at him. When the beggar looks at him with narrowed eyes Changmin clears his throat. "You're holding up the line," he tells him, "keep it moving."
Before the man in soiled clothes has a chance to speak Changmin see's a familiar face.
"Well, I think it looks tasty," comes the airy interference. "I bet it tastes much better than it looks."
Changmin turns his eyes and looks directly in the shining eyes of the same man he saw not less than a day ago.
"What are you doing here?" he demands and this time he's sure Tiffany's looking at him. "You're not poor."
Yoochun steps in front of him with a bright cheerful smile. "Good morning to you," he extends the bowl towards Changmin.
"Are you stealing from the poor?" Changmin asks him and Yoochun laughs.
"Of course not, there's a sign outside that says 'Free Soup'. I like soup," he tilts his head to the side and a curly wisp of hair slides into his eyes. It could almost be considered charming if Changmin weren't so shocked to see him here of all places and if he cared, which he doesn't. "Can I have my soup please?" he asks.
Changmin scoffs. "No," he doesn't know exactly why he's acting this way; he really could care less but perhaps being in the company of smelling vagabonds and ill tempered addicts needing a fix, Yoochun is the first person he can actually feel less uncomfortable interacting with. "Get out of line," he tells Yoochun and this time Tiffany is standing right beside him.
"What are you doing?" she hisses and Changmin turns to her.
"He's not poor. Last night he had a pile of money!" he informs her, annoyed that she's even interfering with the matter.
She smiles uncomfortably, completely ignoring him and turns to Yoochun which automatically put her on his shit list. "I'm sorry, of course you can have soup," she grabs for Changmin's ladle but he holds it tightly in his hand. "Changmin," she clenches her teeth, smile still prettily displayed across her lips.
"He's not poor," Changmin insists and is acutely aware that this whole situation is rather enjoyable and a lot more entertaining than the last two hours.
There's a crowd forming around them with all the commotion and Changmin turns to Yoochun. "I have the money you let me borrow last night," he finally relinquishes the ladle Tiffany has fervently been trying to pry from his fingers.
Yoochun smiles pleased. "Well, that is very considerate of you."
Tiffany beings pouring him soup and Changmin grabs the bowl from Yoochun. "Can I have your soup?" he asks Yoochun and Yoochun's smile never falters nor does the glitter in his eyes ever dim.
"Of course you can," he says kindly and Changmin turns to Tiffany with a serious expression as he hands it back to her.
"He's not poor, he shouldn't get the soup," he tells her pulling off his gloves and removing his apron.
"What's going on here?" a man with a name-tag who seems to think he's rather important, asks with his hands placed impatiently on his hips.
"Nothing," Changmin throws the apron on the table. "I'm done, I'm leaving," he says easily and turns to Yoochun. "You want soup?" he says and walks around the table, taking hold of Yoochun's wrist, "you can pay for it like the rest of us," he tells him and grabs the money from his pocket, shoving into his hand.
Yoochun looks down at the money and then back up at Changmin. "That's very generous of you," he tells him and curls his fingers closed around the cash. "I don't usually have people handing me money," he holds it out for Changmin. "I can have it?"
Changmin huffs. "It's yours, take it."
"Is he bothering you?" Mr. Self Important man asks Yoochun and Changmin glares at him.
Yoochun turns to him and shakes his head. "Of course not. I'm getting free money, nothing is better than that, unless of course I can also have some free soup," he smiles gently and the man nods, obviously charmed by Yoochun unrelenting smile. "Then my morning shall be complete."
"Of course you can." Tiffany hands over the bowl and the man puts it aside, reaching for an empty bowl, extras in case they need them and fills it full with soup. He hands it to Yoochun who takes it with great appreciation.
"Thank you," he blows the steam from the top and Changmin looks in astonishment as Yoochun finally moves from the front line and heads towards the tables, seeming to be completely ignorant of the fact that not only do they know each other but their meeting happened not too long ago. Changmin had never meant anyone in his entire life who had forgotten who he is. Is it even possible? He watches Yoochun take a seat, smiling happily as he joins a conversation before sitting down. It's almost unbelievable.
The man who seems to be named Woowong turns to Changmin. "Your job is to show compassion to those less fortunate," he admonishes and Changmin steps back in offense. "The whole point of working here is to make their day just a little better."
Changmin wants to punch some sense into him but doesn't, that won't make anything better though it would possible make him feel better. "He's not poor. I know him," he states arrogantly and looks towards Yoochun who's now talking to a man in rags and dirt on his face. It's a lie; one person can't really know another with only one chance, accidental meeting.
Tiffany looks at him and shakes her head. "Maybe you're confused, these people have nothing, otherwise they wouldn't come here," she assesses and Changmin turns to her with an air of aggravation.
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about so just grab your ladle and give these people their soup," he tells her and she huffs, cheeks the color of roses in embarrassment. Changmin turns to what's his name. "I'm done here," he reminds him and turns on his feet without another word and heads away from the whole damn thing. He's better than serving soup to the poor. His mother may be contacted but he'll tell her the situation of these ignorant people and she'll side with him, though he knows deep down inside she may be disappointed. It's a chance he's willing to take.
Changmin finds himself heading straight to where Yoochun is sitting instead of the front door. Yoochun doesn't notice he's standing there for at least a minute until Changmin clears his throat loudly. Yoochun looks at him as if seeing him for the first time and that thought alone seems to settle unwell with him for some off reason. "Hello again," he says spoon paused in mid air. "I like your shirt," he tells him and Changmin glances briefly at his clothing. "I like the color."
He's wearing a simple black v-neck shirt that cost him too much money for something so simple. "I've paid you back now," he says and Yoochun pulls the money Changmin gave him and looks at it curiously.
"Why are you giving me money?" he asks and Changmin can detect a sort of resentment prickling at the back of his neck. Does he really not remember him? Is that even possible?
"You don't remember me?" Changmin asks with narrowed eyes and Yoochun gazes deeply at him.
There's a serenity that exudes in his glance. Changmin wonders how it happens and why he's letting it affect him. "Did I borrow some money from you?" he asks carefully and Changmin straightens his shoulders. Yoochun blushes after a moment. "Was it for… you know?"
And Changmin doesn't know what the ending of that sentence leads too though he is offended that Yoochun can't remember him. It's never happened. "Are you kidding me?" he demands and Yoochun turns to the man whom he was speaking too moments before Changmin interrupted him, as if it will help him remember. "Last night, you gave me money!" he reminds him and Yoochun touches his hand to his suddenly flushed cheek.
"Oh well, I didn't think you would pay me back, I mean. Don't you usually keep the money after, you know you do. Do that stuff?" he asks him and Changmin finally realizes what he's talking about. It has nothing to do with their actual meeting at all and it's far dirtier than he would've thought.
He can feel the flush of embarrassment creep along his cheeks and there is an unrepentant shame that follows it. "Are you kidding me?" he demands and finds his fingers itching. "You're disgusting," he tells Yoochun horrified but Yoochun looks innocent.
"Oh so you mean you didn't?" he breaks from his sentence and there's a contemplative look that encompasses his sparking eyes. "Hmm," he scratches at his hairless chin. "Who was that then?" he bites at his lip and lowers his spoon into the bowl in thought.
Changmin rolls his eyes. "I'm leaving now," he tells him and looks out around the room. It's filled with people and there is still a huge line waiting at the door. He finds Tiffany and she's looking at him with curious eyes before they meet and she turns away flustered. "Hopefully we don't meet again," he says turning to Yoochun and can't keep his eyes off the brilliant yellow jeans and Sex Pistols t-shirt he's wearing. "So fucking weird," he mutters and turns away.
"It was nice seeing you again!" Yoochun calls to him while Changmin walks away.
He wonders what Jaejoong is doing and if he wants to meet him for lunch.
His voicemail picks up. "If this is Changmin you can die now, fuck you, Asshole."
Changmin laughs. "Call me back. I'm bored and can use some company for a few hours," he leaves his message just as Daemin pulls up beside him and rushes out to open the door. "I'm hungry," he yawns and instructs that he take him downtown to his favorite restaurant.
Traffic is terrible. Lunchtime only makes it worse and they're stuck, stalled beside the curb for a good ten minutes before there's a break.
As they begin to pull out into the street Changmin spots Yoochun walking lazily down the sidewalk, a far off smile across his lips and he frowns. "Hold on," he calls to the driver and the car stops.
Yoochun moves closer to the car and Changmin lowers the window. "Do you really not remember me?" he calls out to him and Yoochun stops walking, looking around to find the voice evading his thoughts. It takes a him a few minutes and Changmin finds a certain joy from watching the confusion on his face.
He finally sees Changmin and walks towards the car slowly, hands shoved into his pockets. "You have a nice car," he says and Changmin rolls his eyes.
"I asked you a question," he states flatly and annoyed. How someone can be so insufferable is beyond him. Changmin has never been unmemorable. "Where are you going?"
Yoochun breathes in the stale air. "I thought I would take a nice walk around the neighborhood before my class," he tells him and brushes the hair from his eyes and it's somehow incredibly charming.
Changmin fights the urge to stare at him by clearing his throat and looking at the driver who seems to be staring intently towards the back seat, prying in on his conversation. "Mind your business," he tells him and turns back to the window. "Get in, I'll take you to class," he finds the words slipping past his lips, fumbling out without reasonable thought or consideration and he has no idea how it's happening. He opens the door and Yoochun steps back surprised.
"I don't normally climb into cars with strangers," Yoochun bends slightly and looks inside the vehicle with curiosity. "Hmm, very nice indeed," he nods and stands up straight. "I'd much rather walk. You can join me if you'd like," he offers and Changmin shakes his head immediately.
"I don't think so," Changmin feels his phone vibrating against his leg and Jaejoong's number lights up the screen. Changmin turns to Yoochun who's applying some lip balm to his lips and he kind of finds everything else surrounding them less important.
Yoochun smiles as he slides the small tube into his back pocket. "Do you want to walk with me?" he asks and Changmin shakes his head, bringing the world back into focus and Yoochun flips his bangs from his eyes. "Then maybe I'll see you around," he says and gives a small wave before beginning down the street without much else.
Changmin's mouth falls open slightly in surprise. His eyes follow Yoochun as he presses the ignore button his phone and turns to the driver. "If my mother asks, tell her I'm helping the poor," he instructs him and the driver looks skeptical but nods. "Don't follow," he adds before sliding out of the car into the sidewalk.
He doesn't know what exactly he's doing or why he's doing it. Changmin hears the car speed off during an opportunistic break in traffic and he moves easily through the crowd, keeping his eyes on Yoochun who is strolling along the dirty sidewalk. He walks without a care in the world. His hands stowed carefully into his pockets and his head held high. Changmin remembers when he was younger how he'd avoid eye contact with anyone until Jaejoong told him to walk with pride. There's nothing prideful about the way Yoochun walks, he rather moves as if gliding effortlessly through the crowds, open for approach.
Changmin catches up at the stop light and steps up quietly beside Yoochun without saying a word to him. A chilly wind winds around them and he can see Yoochun shiver. He wonders why he left his fur coat at home.
"Are you cold?" he asks Yoochun without much care, keeping his eyes straight ahead though from his peripheral vision he can see Yoochun turn to him in interest, shivering against the wind.
"Oh, I love the feel of the wind on my skin," he says softly and takes a nice long deep breath of air. "It makes me feel alive," he smiles and Yoochun's gaze feels heated against Changmin's skin.
"It smells dirty," he tries not to breathe it in but he can't help it, not when Yoochun is looking so intently at him. It almost makes him uncomfortable and it's a new sensation. Normally it's he who is making others around him uncomfortable. "Stop looking at me," he says once the light allows them to move across the street and he steps forward.
Yoochun ducks his head for a moment looking bashful and it paints beautifully across his cheeks. "I guess you don't spend too much time in these neighborhoods," he assesses and Changmin nods curtly.
"I don't see why I should," he says pulling Yoochun into him as a crowd of people move towards them in a hurry. His skin is as soft as the cashmere blankets he keeps on his bed. Changmin's hand curls carefully around the girth of his arm and Yoochun stumbles for a moment, falling against him and Changmin ignores the igniting pulse of something rather… exciting. "Be careful," he finds himself saying out of unusual consideration.
He can feel the subtle vibration of Yoochun's laughter against his chest. "Well, you are much nicer under the light of the sun," he smiles and presses his palms against Changmin's chest, moving from his warmth. Yoochun stops walking, right in the middle of the busy sidewalk and pulls his arm gently away, "Changmin," he says with amusement in his eyes.
Changmin stumbles; shocked when Yoochun says his name. What the fuck? "Wait," is the first word that comes from his mouth and Yoochun chuckles to himself, eyes glittering with contentment. "You. You remember me?" he says carefully and Yoochun reaches for him, clasping a powerful grip on his wrist as he guides him through the throngs of people. He trips on his feet rather unattractively. "Hold the fuck up," Changmin manages to regain some sense and pulls away from Yoochun once they are in the clear and on a deserted sidewalk corner.
Yoochun reaches behind him and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, taping one to the opening before he pulls it from the pack and slides it into his lip. Changmin feels his mouth dry up, just for a moment. He honestly doesn't think he's ever seen something so simple be so enticing. "You're such an asshole," he spits and Yoochun continues to spread the smile across his lips.
"Do you think I could forget the most demanding beggar I've ever come across in my life?"
He breathes roughly. "I'm not a fucking beggar!" he cries out loudly and can see a few people turning their curious eyes in their general direction. "Did you remember this entire time?" he demands, feeling his heart racing in confusion.
Yoochun lights his cigarette and takes a long, drag. "From the moment I saw you," he stows the pack back into his pocket and offers Changmin a hit, which he refuses with disgust. "Really, I thought you'd get annoyed but your reaction was pretty priceless," he laughs deeply and takes another drag turning around and digging his other hand into a bright yellow pocket.
Changmin's blood seems to be bubbling, his hands clenching angrily and he wonders if Yoochun can see it ripple under his skin. "Oh, was it?" Changmin asks him, "making me look like a fool, priceless eh?"
Yoochun turns around quickly and drops the cigarette from his fingers and rubs it out. "Calm down, no one cared. They were there to eat their soup, soup which you really gave me hell over," Yoochun grabs Changmin's wrist again and guides him down the side walk. "The soup was good by the way," Yoochun adds as an afterthought and Changmin rips his arm back.
"Why are you so weird?" Changmin stops in the middle of the street and Yoochun stops but a few feet away from him. He rotates slowly and smiles effortlessly.
"Why are you so weird?" he poses and grabs his wrist again, pulling him away before the revving cars roll over him.
Changmin waits at the corner for Jaejoong who promises to pick up him in ten minutes.
Yoochun waits with him even after Changmin tells him he doesn't need a bodyguard.
"With those fancy clothes aren't you afraid someone may attack you?" he smiles simply and Changmin narrows his eyes.
"You should talk. I don't walk around with wads of cash in my pocket," Changmin bites back a little more ferociously then he intends. "Go away now," Changmin waves him off and Yoochun laughs.
"You're weird, Changmin," Yoochun leans in and whispers, then touches his hair, the way his mother does when she wants to take care of him. "But I like that."
Changmin feels his body tense.
"I'm not weird," he tells him quite offended and shifts his eyes to the street, looking out for his friend, anything to avoid looking at this Yoochun who almost seems unreal.
"It's all subjective," Yoochun winks and looks at his watch. "I have class. I should be going," he says and pulls out the money that Changmin gave him earlier. "Here," he reaches out. "I don't want your money," he tells him and outstretches his hand towards him. "Take it back. I didn't really expect you to pay me back anyway."
Changmin looks at him in wonder. "But I told you I would," he pushes his hand back, "I don't want it. It's your money."
But Yoochun laughs merrily as he shoves the cash into his hand with strength and moves away before Changmin has the chance to retaliate. "It was nice seeing you again, Changmin," he says looking at his watch. "Call me one of these days," he catches his eyes.
Changmin finds himself nodding despite himself until he realizes that he never got Yoochun's number. "Hey!" he yells out towards him and Yoochun manages to hear him above the roar of afternoon traffic. "I don't have your number!" Changmin hollers and Yoochun smiles brilliantly under the warm sunshine.
"Look me up!" he yells with laughter and looks at him for a mere second before turning his back and disappearing into the crowd.
He watches him until he can't see the bright yellow pants anymore. Changmin looks at his hand, at the money he left him with and in the center he finds the same multi colored poker chip from the night before.
His fingers curl around slowly as he shoves his hands back into his pocket and he calls Jaejoong.
Continued
This was originally written for the city_of_gods contest but it just never happened.
Hope you like.
Unfinished: The Discovery of Joy
Changmin/Yoochun, side Yunho/Jaejoong, slight Changmin/Junsu
R
General, Romance, Angst
He watches the police car move slowly down the street, hiding himself low in his seat.
"We're going to get caught," he can hear his friend speak, terrified. Changmin looks at him and presses a hand to his mouth.
"Be quiet," he whispers harshly. "I swear if they catch us because you're being a pansy I'm going to kick your ass," he warns and keeps his eyes on the slow moving vehicle. "Get down," he breathes and the both of them slump even lower to prevent detection.
The sound of their heavy breathing envelopes the silence, he can feel his adrenaline pumping and the rush of excitement makes him feel high and lightheaded.
"I don't like this. When you said you wanted to have fun I thought we would get a couple beers and hang out," he mutters to himself. "I didn't think you meant stealing a car."
Changmin punches him in the ribs and it shuts his friend up. "You clearly don't understand me," he looks at him with sparkling eyes, filled with mischief. "I think he's gone," he chances a glance over the steering wheel and he can see the tail lights of the cop car turning a corner down the street. "Get up," he sits up and moves restlessly in the seat, bringing his hands down to the loose wires he managed to pull out before he saw the police.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Junsu!" Changmin yells, "get a fucking grip!" he glares at him and tries to get a better look at the wires. "If you freak out you're going to do something that'll get us caught and if you get us caught-"
"Yeah yeah, you'll kick my ass," he grumbles and whips his head around keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious.
"Just make sure no one is watching, that's all you have to do," he pulls out a small flashlight and shines it where he needs to work. "Almost got it," he twists the open circuits together and it takes not but a minute before the car revs and Changmin smiles in success. He turns to Junsu who looks frozen in horror. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he grins and pulls into the street pressing the gas and leaving streaks of tire marks on the road behind them.
Changmin turns weary eyes to Junsu who's trying not to cry. "Would you calm down?" he shoves his shoulder and stands up thrusting his hands into his jean pockets. "Fuck, if you start crying someone's going to take you into the corner and fuck you for being such a pussy," he tells him bluntly though he's not so sure and he really only knows what happens in jail from American television.
"I hate you," Junsu looks over at the other men, drunk, smelling like funk and he pulls his leather jacket closer to his body, crossing his arms over in protection. "I fucking hate you."
Changmin rolls his eyes and walks to the front of the cell. "Hey! Can I make my fucking phone call!?" he screams at a passing officer and the man looks at him with a scowl before he bangs a baton at the iron bars.
"Get back," he hollers and moves on.
Changmin steps back in surprise and walks back to the bench beside his friend. "Don't cry," he mutters as he takes a seat beside him and Junsu grabs hold of his arm.
"I'm not going to cry," he whispers harshly into his ear keeping his eyes on everyone else in the holding cell. "I can't believe I'm in here," he sighs helplessly and digs his fingers painfully into Changmin's skin.
"If you just ignore them, they won't bother you," Changmin keeps his eyes straight ahead, watching the officers talking, moving around, shuffling papers. He turns and glances at his terrified friend. "I'm sorry," he apologizes and Junsu glares at him.
"I'm never going out with you again," he digs his fingers even deeper and Changmin bites his lip, refusing to acknowledge he's in actual pain.
"You!" A short, stocky officer begins opening the cell, pointing to Changmin, "you can make your phone call," he informs him and Changmin stands up, Junsu moving with him. "You stay here," he reaches for his weapon and Changmin pries Junsu's fingers from his arm.
"You'll be fine. I'll be gone a second," he tries his best to soothe him and Junsu lets go, making his way back to the bench, making himself as small as possible.
Changmin walks out, his elbow clutched tightly in the guard's hand as he leads him to the phone. "You've got five minutes," he informs him and releases him though doesn't go far and leans against the wall, watching him closely.
Changmin calls the first person he can think of and although he'll get hell and possibly a slap in the face, it's the only one who'll get him out of his jam.
Changmin keeps his eyes on the ground and Junsu is muttering apology after apology like a prayer.
"I won't tell your parents about this, Junsu. I'm almost certain you had nothing to do with it."
Changmin twist his lips in annoyance, "It's not like I pressed a gun to his head," he mutters and winces when he gets a smack on the back of his head. "That's not necessary," he rubs at his hair and stands back once their driver opens the door for them.
"Be quiet, Changmin. Get in, Junsu."
Junsu looks over at him as he slides inside the car first. Before Changmin gets in the door closes and he pulls his hand away before his fingers get crushed. "Walk home."
"Umma-" he begins in surprise but she shakes her head and waves her hand to silence him.
"The only reason I answered that phone was to not wake up your father. Now go on," she gives him a push as she tells the driver to open the door again. "By no means are you allowed to let him inside," she instructs and slides in beside Junsu who's poking his head out looking horribly sorry for him. "Let's go."
Changmin looks at their driver and he gives him a disapproving frown. He's almost too shocked to fully understand what is happening but the sound of the car starting up brings him back to reality and he bangs at the door.
"Umma! Umma, you can't be serious!" he yells incredulously and when the window drops only to reveal her eyes and he sees the anger and disappointment in them he steps back almost as if he's been struck.
"You're getting too old for these games, Changmin. Stealing cars? Jail? Is that how I raised you?" she asks over the noise of the engine. He shakes his head and she sighs. "It's time you be punished. Now start walking."
His eyes widen in realization that this is no joke. "It's fifteen miles from here!" he cries trying to open the door but it's locked and his adrenaline is soon pumping for a purely different reason. "The sun will be out by then!"
She glares at him. "Then I suggest you get started," she instructs and waves her hand to leave.
Changmin yells in frustration and pulls at the door handle, moving along with the wheels. "Umma!"
"You want to act like a criminal then I will treat you like a criminal. Get away from this car," she orders and rolls the window back up as the car pulls into the street.
"Is this how you treat your only son!?" he yells angrily as they leave him behind.
He watches horrified, dazed, frozen in disbelief as the car drives further and further away. "Fuck!" he screams at the top of his lungs and kicks at a beer bottle lying in the street, sending it soaring to shatter on the other side. "Fuck!" he pulls at his hair and looks around. He can see a couple officers watching him and he wants to punch the smiles from their faces. He moves back onto the sidewalk and grabs for his wallet. He could take a taxi or at least he could have if he had any money, which he doesn't and he wonders if his mother took it or the police stole it.
"Oh fuck," he groans and looks both ways down the sidewalk. He's not familiar with the neighborhood and doesn't know where to go but he can't just stand there, nothing will be accomplished. He considers for a moment trying to steal another car but if he gets caught again he'll probably be disinherited. He decides to follow the way he believes the car went and begins making his way north.
He shoves his hands into his coat pockets and keeps his head down. It's late and only crazy, drunk people are on the street and when a woman asks if he's looking for some fun he walks faster away from her.
He's about a mile out when he remembers his phone. Changmin makes his way over to a lamppost and leans against it, keeping himself visible in the dark night as he calls Jaejoong. As if his prayers have been answered he picks up almost immediately.
"I need you to come get me," he spills before Jaejoong has the chance to say hello. There's an awful bang in the distance followed by loud screaming and he looks up to see if he can find the source and prays he isn't anywhere near it. "Now."
There's something rather condescending about the sound of his laughter. "Junsu told me you got arrested again. You're so stupid."
He'll get Junsu for that later but right now he just needs to be saved. He'll let Jaejoong laugh at him all night if only he'll pick him up and take him home. "Shut the fuck up and come get me," he whines.
Jaejoong has been the only person aside from his parents to hear him whine. They've been friends since they were fed as babies with silver spoons. Changmin pulls closer into the light when a man walks by talking to himself.
"Fuck you've got to get me now," he presses the phone to his ear and keeps his eyes low and away from everyone else that passes.
Jaejoong's quiet for a moment. "I'd love to but I can't," he really does sound sorry as he talks to him.
Changmin feels his shoulders fall and a terrible sense of fear crawling from his stomach up to his chest. "Are you kidding me?" his fingers clutch desperately at the lamp post and he jumps when a rat runs over his shoe.
"Look, your mom called and threatened to tell my dad about that time we skipped school and took that trip to Jeju last year if I got you. You are to learn a lesson, young man," he repeats what is obviously verbatim of what his mother said to him and starts cracking up but all Changmin can hear is his mother's voice and how she must really be upset with him. She's never been angry with him but lately, the last few years she seems to be aging faster and it's because of him. He tries not to think about it. Forget the disappointment that's replaced what used to be fondness in her eyes for him.
"Fuck," he groans. "I messed up."
"You sure did," Jaejoong agrees. "Hey, I've. Well, I've got to go," he says and his voice becomes slightly secretive and low. "Umm and you shouldn't bother calling Yunho either," he says after a while.
He was his last resort. "Did she threaten him too?"
"Well, uh, no. Not quite," Jaejoong begins to sound even weirder, "I suppose if he could answer his phone she may have," and his voice drops off momentarily. "He's kind of… tied up. To my bed."
Changmin groans and wishes he hadn't heard that. "You're sick."
"Not sick, experimental," Jaejoong laughs. "Look I think the silk is giving him a rash so I've got to go. Good luck, hope you make it home in one piece or at least with a really good story."
"Jaejoong, come on!" he yells but he's already heard the definitive click of rejection and he yells out in frustration. Changmin glares at his phone. So much for blood brothers, so much for having someone's back. He fumes and dials the phone before he really has the sense to stop himself.
"What's your emergency?"
"Yes, hello, I keep hearing suspicious screaming from next door and I don't know what's going on but it doesn't sound right. I think someone is attacking him. I'm in a wheel chair right now so I called you, otherwise I would check it out myself."
"What's the address?" the operator asks quickly and Changmin gives him Jaejoong's address.
"Someone keeps screaming and I don't know if he's being hurt but you know, I just thought I would call to get someone over there. I'm very concerned; I know they have a teenager, hope he's not getting hurt. The screaming is just really loud."
"You did the right thing, someone is on their way," the operator tells him before Changmin hangs up abruptly. That'll teach him, even though he knows Jaejoong will really kill him when he finds out what he did.
Changmin soon forgets that and thinks further onto his current situation and brings a hand to his eyes and rubs at them, telling himself to calm down and get a grip. He's not a child and his instincts, more often than not, have led him to where he needs to go.
He sighs trying to figure out how to get out of this horrible mess. He doesn't really know what to do but he can't just stay and stand there. It will clearly bring unwanted attention to him. He's severely out of place with this expensive jacket and rich boy clothing. He thinks it's only a matter of time before a hoodlum accosts him with a switchblade, demanding his designer shoes.
And then, for a brief moment he considers calling his mother, asking for forgiveness and begging her to send a car, though he has no idea where he is.
Changmin goes as far as dialing her number and looks at the screen once he's ready to press the call button. Flashes of disappointment overtake him and he sighs dejectedly, she probably wouldn't pick up even if he tried so he closes his phone and shoves it into his pocket. He's on his own and needs to find his way back home without relying on anyone else.
It takes a moment before he releases the safety of light and he begins walking along the darkened street. He zips up his jacket and keeps his hands in his pockets, making a mental note to ignore the incessant requests for money thought after a good three blocks and the 20th person has asked him his temper flares.
"I don't have any money!" he yells at the homeless man, dressed in rags and skinny to the bone. "Look," he pulls out his wallet wildly, thrusting it at him, opened and empty and the man cowers back in surprise. "I don't have any fucking money!" he tells him again and keeps moving.
He wishes he hadn't been so stupid, if he acted like a proper adult he could be at home in his bed, dreaming of his next wild scheme but he finds himself walking the streets in the middle of the early morning and it's horrible. The stench of the night is terrible and he thinks he's seen enough people pissing on the wall to promise himself of never returning to this part of town ever again.
It's after the fifth block and maybe the 25th homeless man who begs him for money he erupts with unbridled frustration and anger.
"If I had money do you think I would be here?" he grabs him by the torn collar of his shirt, raging in fury and shaking him until he's begging to be released. "Fuck!" Changmin yells into his dirty face and throws him aside. "I'm sorry," he mutters watching guiltily as he crawls away in horror.
"That's not very kind of you," comes a deep voice from the right and Changmin pivots.
There's man in a top hat and ankle length fur coat standing right beside him with an inappropriate smile of serenity on his face. Changmin feels himself stumble back in surprise and runs into a city trashcan he hadn't notice before. "Oh, shit," he grabs at his jacket, right above the furiously beating heart in his chest. "I didn't. I didn't mean-"
The man looks over at the dirty, destitute beggar and gives him a couple bills. "Buy yourself some food," he says kindly and the man rushes to him on his knees, clutching at his coat.
"Thank you. Thank you," he cries and Changmin watches in shock at the tears pooling in his eyes in complete gratitude. "Thank you."
Changmin holds his breath listening to the deep voice who whispers 'you're welcome' and pries the fingers from his coat. He turns to him with sparkling eyes. "Being unkind to those who are less fortunate than you is shameful," he speaks softly, kindly and for what it's worth, nonjudgmental.
Changmin takes a step back, keeping his eyes him. "I have no money," he tells him apologetically.
The man nods in understanding and looks around. "It's a lovely night, lots of stars in the sky."
Changmin finds himself looking to the heavens but his indulgence is short lived. "I need money," he says almost immediately and loathes how desperate he sounds in his own ears. He's never had to ask anyone for money. Never.
The man looks at him and smiles. "I have a poker chip," he says as he buries his hand in his pocket to reveal a multicolored coin. "You can have it," he hands it to him.
He looks at him in disbelief "No. Money," he says again just in case he didn't understand before. "I need money."
He produces the chip again. "This is money," he says nicely and Changmin shakes his head dumbfounded.
"I'll give you anything," he moves forward, pleadingly and tries not to watch the woman vomiting on herself while she sleeps. He needs to get out now. "You can have anything."
He looks interested and sparked with intrigue at the offer. "Anything? That's quite a generous offer," he smiles.
Changmin nods eagerly. "Anything you want," he tells him.
The man nods in resolution. "I would like world peace," he says.
And Changmin's head falls forward in incredulity. "World peace," he breathes and it sounds even more ludicrous when he repeats it from his own mouth.
But now the man is chuckling to himself. "You said anything. I would really like to have world peace," he says honestly.
"Oh my god," Changmin clenches his fists in complete frustration. "I meant anything within reason!" and Changmin controls the flourishing aggravation that's on the brink of complete anger. "I'll give you my shoes. My jacket," he begins to slide it off his shoulders, "it's very expensive. It's real leather," he tells him and pulls it off completely offering it to the man.
"Oh. No thank you. I have a coat. It's very nice," he looks down at himself and brushes a hand along the fur in reverence, "it's very warm. Please keep yours. I prefer mine," he looks at him with the same smile that Changmin has increasingly found patronizing. "And you will probably need your shoes and mine are a very capable pair," he adds while he presents them. They look patent leather under the light of the moon.
Changmin tells himself to breathe and counts to five before he looks into the strangers eyes and finds them glittering. "Please, I need to get home and I have no money." He tries not to shake the insanity from him but he restrains himself and merely casts sorrowful eyes at him. "I can pay you back, I swear," he promises and hopes this is what this stranger has been waiting to hear. Compensation for his good deed, although Changmin's pretty sure the beggar will not be paying him back.
The man nods in resolution and finally pulls out a large wad of bills. Changmin feels the air from his lungs slip past his mouth in a rush of gratitude and success. "I just so happen to have on hand quite a bit of money," the man who has yet to mention a name licks the pad of his thumb and shuffles through the money, counting it out loud with a proud voice and Changmin looks around in alarm. If he were to be mugged, he's pretty sure he would end up in the gutter, beaten without clothes on his body or probably worse, dead. "It's far more than I actually need and I plan to walk home," he says without much regard to the dark night and questionable neighborhood. He looks at Changmin momentarily. "You said you needed money right?"
For a moment he's thrown off course because hasn't this man been listening to him at all? Unfortunately the whimsical smile on his face and the sparkle behind his eyes leaves Changmin thinking perhaps he was never really paying attention to him at all. "I promise to pay you back," he tells him and as luck would have it a yellow cab makes it way down the street, the first one he's seen all night and Changmin waves it down.
It's less than a minute before it stops right in front of them and waits, loud Trot music blasting from the speakers. Changmin groans, he's not particularly fond of Trot music. "Need a ride?" the driver asks and Changmin nods holding his hand up.
He turns to the man quickly. "If you could just tell me your name and give me an address I'll send you the money as soon as I can. Tomorrow morning," he insists.
The man nods and hands over the entire stack of money with a smile. "This should cover the expense," he tells him brightly and Changmin's mouth falls open.
There is clearly something wrong with the guy. People aren't like this. "No," he shakes his head and takes only a few bills and hands over the rest. "I just need enough for the ride home. Put that away," he shoves the money into his hand. "It's the middle of the night, are you crazy?" he whispers harshly. "Who are you?" he asks while looking around them in case someone is casing the area ready to attack once he's gone. Fortunately there are only people sleeping and the streets are quiet save it for the music coming from the cab and the impatient driver.
"I'm Park Yoochun?" he smiles brightly and formally extends his hand out to him. "Who are you?"
Changmin stares at him for a moment before he shakes his hand. "Changmin," he doesn't say his last name though he doesn't completely understand why. A thought hits him for a moment, a non selfish, good Samaritan moment that only comes once in a life time. "Will you be ok?" he asks carefully. "Maybe you should come along and use it once I'm finished."
He shakes his head with a smile. "I'll be fine," he says easily. "Besides," he opens his jacket to reveal a pair of floral print surfer shorts and a lime green polo. Changmin thinks he couldn't possibly be any weirder until he sees the holster and a gun. "I'm quite protected," he smiles with a chuckle and then leans in close and Changmin finds himself drawn into his personal space, "It's made out of plastic," he whispers with a laugh and Changmin pulls away dumbfounded. "But don't tell anyone," he winks.
"You're strange," he tells him flatly narrowing his eyes.
"Thank you," he smiles and hides behind the fur coat again.
"It's not a compliment," Changmin opens the door to the cab.
And Yoochun's smile drops but for mere a second. "Oh, well. Enjoy your ride home. I hope to see you again, Changmin," he smiles politely and Changmin looks at him, having no intention to ever see him again. He will mail him the money.
"Thank you for the money, I will pay you back," he assures and gets into the cab. It's while they are moving away that he remembers he never got his address and he tells the driver to stop, rolling down the window. "Wait!" he calls for Yoochun who hasn't moved.
He moves towards the open window. "Hello, meeting again so soon?" he asks and Changmin ignores him.
"You didn't give me an address to repay you," he tells him and Yoochun chews on his lip, his hand sliding into his coat pocket before he produce what looks like a lipstick tube. As Changmin watches him uncap it he comes to realize it is a lipstick tube.
"Here," he reaches out for him and Changmin extends his hand until Yoochun's fingers curl around his wrist. He's surprisingly warm and the touch is gentle. He watches quietly and feels the smooth sweeps along his palm.
"There you go," he pulls away and Changmin looks at the address. Yoochun's handwriting is quite nice. "Have a good night," he says and he turns to the driver. "Make sure you drive safely," he instructs and the driver snorts in contempt.
Changmin finds himself watching Yoochun until he can no longer see him and turns back around in his seat instructing the driver to start for his home. He looks down at his hand again and reads the address again.
"Weird," he mutters and looks out the window, watching the city night fly by.
His mother is asleep on a chair in the grand room when he finally gets to the sanctuary of his home. Changmin sighs as he walks closer, doing his best not to wake her. He can see the soft age lines around her eyes, the permanent frown that marks along the corners of her lips.
He looks for a blanket and pulls the shrug from the couch. He walks it over to his mother and places it gently on her. She stirs but doesn't wake and Changmin enjoyes watching her sleeping peacefully, for a moment he regrets the lines he's made. She worries too much for him and it's his fault.
Sometimes he wishes he were a better son. Most of the time he wishes his rebellion didn't affect her as often as it does but it's his doing and he knows… he won't stop. That's what makes his heart clench.
"Love you, Umma," he whispers before kissing her forehead and heading to his room. He tosses the change from the drive on his nightstand and falls into bed with exhaustion. Changmin finds himself looking at the lipstick stained address on his hand and he remembers the name, Park Yoochun.
"Weirdo," he mutters to himself and reaches for the light turning it off. In the morning he'll make sure to send the money to the address. The last thing he plans to do is ever see him again.
Changmin turns in his luxurious bed and curls his arms around a large body pillow snuggling deeply into the softness. In the morning he'll apologize to his mother when his father isn't around and then mail the money. Hopefully Jaejoong won't kill him before he has the chance to do either.
Changmin wakes up to the glorious smell of breakfast and the shuffling of someone in his room.
He opens his eyes and sees a housekeeper preparing to throw his garbage away.
"What are you doing in my room?" he asks her with a low, sleep filled voice, coughing into the morning.
She appears to be nervous and it doesn't surprise him. He's become quite a handful and rather mean to the staff of the house though he's completely aware that he's only doing it to show his dominance and status. "I'm sorry," she apologizes and bows at a ninety degree angle. "I didn't think you would wake up," she apologizes with a wavering voice.
Changmin wipes at his eyes and brushes his hand in ardent dismissal. "Get out," he mutters and sits up.
She nods and rushes to the door leaving at his immediate request.
He can feel the warmth of the sun on his cheeks and he wonders how long he slept. His dreams where flashes of poverty and destitute. He remembers a beggar pleading for food and a woman with five children behind her coat asking for money.
Changmin shakes his head free of the thoughts and throws the blankets aside, there's a stain on his pillow case and he reaches for it, it's red but not blood. With a slight hesitation he brings the pillow to his nose to take a whiff when he notices a faint red print on the inside of his hand. He sits up and looks to the palm of his hand. The print is smeared and almost illegible. The night returns in quick little flashes and Changmin remembers a long fur coat and a strange little man almost swallowed by the animal.
Park Yoochun
His memory recalls the eccentric samaritan. For a moment he considered it a dream, tosses the experience to a mere figment of his hyper imagination but the evidence is printed on his hand and clearly, it wasn't a dream.
Changmin finds a pen and paper in his night stand and jots down what is left of the smeared address before he gets out of bed. He'll send the money and be done with it.
He grabs underwear for his shower and makes a mental note to tell one of the maids to clean his pillow case, it looks like a hooker got a hold of it and had its way with it.
There is a plate of food where he normally sits and Changmin takes a seat and grabs his napkin.
"My son is so handsome," his father smiles before taking a drink of his coffee.
Changmin's lips turn at the tips as he reaches for his own ceramic mug of sweet smelling coffee. "Did you sleep well, Appa?" he asks, glancing at his mother who's mouth is turned down in a frown and he knows she's remembering the events of the previous night and just how much of a disappointment he's become.
His father nods and takes a big bite of his food. "What are your plans for today? I was hoping to have lunch with you this afternoon. I want to introduce you to a few associates of mine," he says proudly and Changmin feels a flush of embarrassment. He hasn't the heart to tell his father he isn't the least bit interested in inheriting the family business.
"Changmin will actually be busy today," his mother speaks up after a moment, sipping at her soup elegantly. Changmin looks at her with curious eyes and she pierces him with a poignant stare. The kind that lets him know she means business. "He's been inquiring about local volunteer work and I think I've found the perfect service for him," she smiles and Changmin feels his stomach twist in dread.
"Thank you, Umma," he says losing his appetite. The mere idea of it makes him want to throw up whatever he's eaten. He hopes it's not with poor people. Please let it not be with poor people. He's had his fill of them already.
"It's a soup kitchen on the other side of town. They are always looking for volunteers and they were very excited to accept his help," she smiles demurely at him and Changmin plasters a smile on his face. As fake as the blond hair his mother insists on keeping.
His father's eyes flicker brightly as he turns to his son. "I think that's fantastic," he chews in approval. "Well, if today is not a good day then perhaps tomorrow," he says and sets his plate aside, finished with his meal. "Volunteering will look good on your resume," he nods in satisfaction. "I want my son to have the best opportunities," he smiles.
Changmin forces to sustain the grin on his lips and keeps his eyes on his mother.
"After breakfast you're to wash up and then head straight to the location of your work. I made sure to call ahead and let them know you were coming in today," she says looking at her son straight in the eyes, unwavering and somewhat challenging and Changmin knows this is meant to be taken seriously.
"Thanks, mom," Changmin clenches his fist tight around the cloth and squeezes his fingers around the smooth fabric, hoping his nails won't leave marks. "You know I'm happy to help the community," he smiles and his mother narrows her eyes in suspicion.
"I'm glad to hear it," she offers a smile of gratitude though it's marred with force. "Changmin has grown up to be such an upstanding citizen," her voice feels forcefully sweet as she finishes the rest of her soup and Changmin knows it's wrong to hate his mother, but sometimes he can't help it.
"Tell the driver I'll be ready in a few minutes," Changmin pushes his plate away and wipes at his mouth, pulling back in his chair. "I just need to wash up and I'll be off," he tells his parents and his mother looks at him questionably.
"Five minutes," she says matter-of-factly and Changmin stands up, stretching his arms over his head as a yawn escapes his mouth.
"Ok," he nods in resolutely. "I'll be down in five minutes," he walks to his mother and kisses her on the cheek. She holds his face in her hands. The way she used to when he was a child who only wished for the undying love of his wonderful mother.
"I want to be proud of my son," she tells him softly, too quietly for his father to hear. "You are better than this, Changmin," she runs the pad of her thumb against his cheek before releasing him. "I raised a good son," she brushes his hair from his eyes, sweeping his bangs and Changmin feels like he's five years old again.
Changmin wants his mother to be proud of him; he's given her so many reasons to resent him as a human being, as a son. "I'll make you proud," he promises, though he doesn't know why he has to make her proud by working with poor people. "I should get ready," he tugs her hands from his face and gives them a gentle squeeze before he moves away.
"You have a long afternoon ahead of you," she tells him and Changmin straightens up. "Be prepared."
Changmin nods and glides past his father who grabs for his hand giving it a tight squeeze. "Be exceptional, my son," he tells him and Changmin can sense the undulating pride. Changmin finds it rather suffocating.
"I will," he nods and moves on through the house towards his bedroom. While he was downstairs a maid came in and he can see his room organized and his bed made. Changmin grabs his phone from the night stand and finds he has ten miss calls and three voice mails.
They are all from Jaejoong who swears to get back at him for sending the police to his house. Changmin laughs to himself; it's the first enjoyable thing that's happened to him all morning. He remembers to grab some money from his drawer to pay back this Yoochun character and plans to send the money on his way to his involuntary volunteer work.
Changmin nods to the same driver who refused to let him into the car the night before and sits down in the seat as the car starts up with a gentle rumble.
He watches the scenery pass him as the car moves easily through the streets; the neighborhood backdrop he's grown up in disappears to the slums of the city. In daylight the streets don't look as menacing but they always tell a different story, a story he experienced on his own.
"Will you be here when I'm finished?" he asks the driver, addressing him in the upmost pretentious voice he can muster. His name is Daemin and he's been servicing the family as long as he can remember; he is inexorably faithful to his mother, which has never been a good thing for him.
"I will be here," he tells Changmin and closes the door behind him the moment he steps out in front of the rundown building that has a line of unfortunate men standing around the corner. Changmin frowns to himself and pulls his jacket closer to his body. He hopes no one talks to him. The last thing he wants is to interact with the undesirables.
He has no clue what he's doing and almost screams at a man who tells him to get in the back of the line before he realizes he's there to help. Someone whose name he doesn't find important enough to remember tells him everything he needs to know before taking a spot in line to begin serving the food.
Changmin can't keep the scowl from his lips as he stands behind a shabby table, stained apron over his clothes and uncomfortable gloves on his hands. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he mutters to himself and it seems to catch the attention of the person standing beside him.
"Community service?" she asks and Changmin turns toward the voice. It belongs to a pretty girl with braided pig tails and too much make up.
Changmin clears his throat, "You can say that," he turns his eyes to the clock then to the double glass doors with a crowd waiting to come in.
She nods and smiles. "It's not so bad, you don't have to talk to them, just serve the soup and let them go on their way. Every once in a while you'll get a talker but just smile and ignore it and they'll move on," she offers some advice. "By the way, I'm Tiffany," she extends a small hand covered by plastic.
"Changmin," he shakes her hand loosely and shifts on his feet. "I'll keep that in mind," he says and sighs loudly.
There's a loud clamoring from the doors and a wave of voices encompasses the empty room as people begin to enter like cattle. Changmin prepares himself and grabs for the ladle when he sees the first man step in front of him.
He thinks it's going to be a long day.
His pot is almost empty when Changmin finally looks at the clock. It's been almost two hours and his feet are starting to hurt.
"What's the soup today?" a man asks when it's his turn. Changmin can smell the alcohol spewing from his dirty pores and feels sick.
"I don't know," he says and pours a spoonful into the small bowl.
The man frowns. "Looks like piss," he says and Changmin rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"Can't be worse than not having anything at all," he says and he can sense Tiffany looking at him. When the beggar looks at him with narrowed eyes Changmin clears his throat. "You're holding up the line," he tells him, "keep it moving."
Before the man in soiled clothes has a chance to speak Changmin see's a familiar face.
"Well, I think it looks tasty," comes the airy interference. "I bet it tastes much better than it looks."
Changmin turns his eyes and looks directly in the shining eyes of the same man he saw not less than a day ago.
"What are you doing here?" he demands and this time he's sure Tiffany's looking at him. "You're not poor."
Yoochun steps in front of him with a bright cheerful smile. "Good morning to you," he extends the bowl towards Changmin.
"Are you stealing from the poor?" Changmin asks him and Yoochun laughs.
"Of course not, there's a sign outside that says 'Free Soup'. I like soup," he tilts his head to the side and a curly wisp of hair slides into his eyes. It could almost be considered charming if Changmin weren't so shocked to see him here of all places and if he cared, which he doesn't. "Can I have my soup please?" he asks.
Changmin scoffs. "No," he doesn't know exactly why he's acting this way; he really could care less but perhaps being in the company of smelling vagabonds and ill tempered addicts needing a fix, Yoochun is the first person he can actually feel less uncomfortable interacting with. "Get out of line," he tells Yoochun and this time Tiffany is standing right beside him.
"What are you doing?" she hisses and Changmin turns to her.
"He's not poor. Last night he had a pile of money!" he informs her, annoyed that she's even interfering with the matter.
She smiles uncomfortably, completely ignoring him and turns to Yoochun which automatically put her on his shit list. "I'm sorry, of course you can have soup," she grabs for Changmin's ladle but he holds it tightly in his hand. "Changmin," she clenches her teeth, smile still prettily displayed across her lips.
"He's not poor," Changmin insists and is acutely aware that this whole situation is rather enjoyable and a lot more entertaining than the last two hours.
There's a crowd forming around them with all the commotion and Changmin turns to Yoochun. "I have the money you let me borrow last night," he finally relinquishes the ladle Tiffany has fervently been trying to pry from his fingers.
Yoochun smiles pleased. "Well, that is very considerate of you."
Tiffany beings pouring him soup and Changmin grabs the bowl from Yoochun. "Can I have your soup?" he asks Yoochun and Yoochun's smile never falters nor does the glitter in his eyes ever dim.
"Of course you can," he says kindly and Changmin turns to Tiffany with a serious expression as he hands it back to her.
"He's not poor, he shouldn't get the soup," he tells her pulling off his gloves and removing his apron.
"What's going on here?" a man with a name-tag who seems to think he's rather important, asks with his hands placed impatiently on his hips.
"Nothing," Changmin throws the apron on the table. "I'm done, I'm leaving," he says easily and turns to Yoochun. "You want soup?" he says and walks around the table, taking hold of Yoochun's wrist, "you can pay for it like the rest of us," he tells him and grabs the money from his pocket, shoving into his hand.
Yoochun looks down at the money and then back up at Changmin. "That's very generous of you," he tells him and curls his fingers closed around the cash. "I don't usually have people handing me money," he holds it out for Changmin. "I can have it?"
Changmin huffs. "It's yours, take it."
"Is he bothering you?" Mr. Self Important man asks Yoochun and Changmin glares at him.
Yoochun turns to him and shakes his head. "Of course not. I'm getting free money, nothing is better than that, unless of course I can also have some free soup," he smiles gently and the man nods, obviously charmed by Yoochun unrelenting smile. "Then my morning shall be complete."
"Of course you can." Tiffany hands over the bowl and the man puts it aside, reaching for an empty bowl, extras in case they need them and fills it full with soup. He hands it to Yoochun who takes it with great appreciation.
"Thank you," he blows the steam from the top and Changmin looks in astonishment as Yoochun finally moves from the front line and heads towards the tables, seeming to be completely ignorant of the fact that not only do they know each other but their meeting happened not too long ago. Changmin had never meant anyone in his entire life who had forgotten who he is. Is it even possible? He watches Yoochun take a seat, smiling happily as he joins a conversation before sitting down. It's almost unbelievable.
The man who seems to be named Woowong turns to Changmin. "Your job is to show compassion to those less fortunate," he admonishes and Changmin steps back in offense. "The whole point of working here is to make their day just a little better."
Changmin wants to punch some sense into him but doesn't, that won't make anything better though it would possible make him feel better. "He's not poor. I know him," he states arrogantly and looks towards Yoochun who's now talking to a man in rags and dirt on his face. It's a lie; one person can't really know another with only one chance, accidental meeting.
Tiffany looks at him and shakes her head. "Maybe you're confused, these people have nothing, otherwise they wouldn't come here," she assesses and Changmin turns to her with an air of aggravation.
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about so just grab your ladle and give these people their soup," he tells her and she huffs, cheeks the color of roses in embarrassment. Changmin turns to what's his name. "I'm done here," he reminds him and turns on his feet without another word and heads away from the whole damn thing. He's better than serving soup to the poor. His mother may be contacted but he'll tell her the situation of these ignorant people and she'll side with him, though he knows deep down inside she may be disappointed. It's a chance he's willing to take.
Changmin finds himself heading straight to where Yoochun is sitting instead of the front door. Yoochun doesn't notice he's standing there for at least a minute until Changmin clears his throat loudly. Yoochun looks at him as if seeing him for the first time and that thought alone seems to settle unwell with him for some off reason. "Hello again," he says spoon paused in mid air. "I like your shirt," he tells him and Changmin glances briefly at his clothing. "I like the color."
He's wearing a simple black v-neck shirt that cost him too much money for something so simple. "I've paid you back now," he says and Yoochun pulls the money Changmin gave him and looks at it curiously.
"Why are you giving me money?" he asks and Changmin can detect a sort of resentment prickling at the back of his neck. Does he really not remember him? Is that even possible?
"You don't remember me?" Changmin asks with narrowed eyes and Yoochun gazes deeply at him.
There's a serenity that exudes in his glance. Changmin wonders how it happens and why he's letting it affect him. "Did I borrow some money from you?" he asks carefully and Changmin straightens his shoulders. Yoochun blushes after a moment. "Was it for… you know?"
And Changmin doesn't know what the ending of that sentence leads too though he is offended that Yoochun can't remember him. It's never happened. "Are you kidding me?" he demands and Yoochun turns to the man whom he was speaking too moments before Changmin interrupted him, as if it will help him remember. "Last night, you gave me money!" he reminds him and Yoochun touches his hand to his suddenly flushed cheek.
"Oh well, I didn't think you would pay me back, I mean. Don't you usually keep the money after, you know you do. Do that stuff?" he asks him and Changmin finally realizes what he's talking about. It has nothing to do with their actual meeting at all and it's far dirtier than he would've thought.
He can feel the flush of embarrassment creep along his cheeks and there is an unrepentant shame that follows it. "Are you kidding me?" he demands and finds his fingers itching. "You're disgusting," he tells Yoochun horrified but Yoochun looks innocent.
"Oh so you mean you didn't?" he breaks from his sentence and there's a contemplative look that encompasses his sparking eyes. "Hmm," he scratches at his hairless chin. "Who was that then?" he bites at his lip and lowers his spoon into the bowl in thought.
Changmin rolls his eyes. "I'm leaving now," he tells him and looks out around the room. It's filled with people and there is still a huge line waiting at the door. He finds Tiffany and she's looking at him with curious eyes before they meet and she turns away flustered. "Hopefully we don't meet again," he says turning to Yoochun and can't keep his eyes off the brilliant yellow jeans and Sex Pistols t-shirt he's wearing. "So fucking weird," he mutters and turns away.
"It was nice seeing you again!" Yoochun calls to him while Changmin walks away.
He wonders what Jaejoong is doing and if he wants to meet him for lunch.
His voicemail picks up. "If this is Changmin you can die now, fuck you, Asshole."
Changmin laughs. "Call me back. I'm bored and can use some company for a few hours," he leaves his message just as Daemin pulls up beside him and rushes out to open the door. "I'm hungry," he yawns and instructs that he take him downtown to his favorite restaurant.
Traffic is terrible. Lunchtime only makes it worse and they're stuck, stalled beside the curb for a good ten minutes before there's a break.
As they begin to pull out into the street Changmin spots Yoochun walking lazily down the sidewalk, a far off smile across his lips and he frowns. "Hold on," he calls to the driver and the car stops.
Yoochun moves closer to the car and Changmin lowers the window. "Do you really not remember me?" he calls out to him and Yoochun stops walking, looking around to find the voice evading his thoughts. It takes a him a few minutes and Changmin finds a certain joy from watching the confusion on his face.
He finally sees Changmin and walks towards the car slowly, hands shoved into his pockets. "You have a nice car," he says and Changmin rolls his eyes.
"I asked you a question," he states flatly and annoyed. How someone can be so insufferable is beyond him. Changmin has never been unmemorable. "Where are you going?"
Yoochun breathes in the stale air. "I thought I would take a nice walk around the neighborhood before my class," he tells him and brushes the hair from his eyes and it's somehow incredibly charming.
Changmin fights the urge to stare at him by clearing his throat and looking at the driver who seems to be staring intently towards the back seat, prying in on his conversation. "Mind your business," he tells him and turns back to the window. "Get in, I'll take you to class," he finds the words slipping past his lips, fumbling out without reasonable thought or consideration and he has no idea how it's happening. He opens the door and Yoochun steps back surprised.
"I don't normally climb into cars with strangers," Yoochun bends slightly and looks inside the vehicle with curiosity. "Hmm, very nice indeed," he nods and stands up straight. "I'd much rather walk. You can join me if you'd like," he offers and Changmin shakes his head immediately.
"I don't think so," Changmin feels his phone vibrating against his leg and Jaejoong's number lights up the screen. Changmin turns to Yoochun who's applying some lip balm to his lips and he kind of finds everything else surrounding them less important.
Yoochun smiles as he slides the small tube into his back pocket. "Do you want to walk with me?" he asks and Changmin shakes his head, bringing the world back into focus and Yoochun flips his bangs from his eyes. "Then maybe I'll see you around," he says and gives a small wave before beginning down the street without much else.
Changmin's mouth falls open slightly in surprise. His eyes follow Yoochun as he presses the ignore button his phone and turns to the driver. "If my mother asks, tell her I'm helping the poor," he instructs him and the driver looks skeptical but nods. "Don't follow," he adds before sliding out of the car into the sidewalk.
He doesn't know what exactly he's doing or why he's doing it. Changmin hears the car speed off during an opportunistic break in traffic and he moves easily through the crowd, keeping his eyes on Yoochun who is strolling along the dirty sidewalk. He walks without a care in the world. His hands stowed carefully into his pockets and his head held high. Changmin remembers when he was younger how he'd avoid eye contact with anyone until Jaejoong told him to walk with pride. There's nothing prideful about the way Yoochun walks, he rather moves as if gliding effortlessly through the crowds, open for approach.
Changmin catches up at the stop light and steps up quietly beside Yoochun without saying a word to him. A chilly wind winds around them and he can see Yoochun shiver. He wonders why he left his fur coat at home.
"Are you cold?" he asks Yoochun without much care, keeping his eyes straight ahead though from his peripheral vision he can see Yoochun turn to him in interest, shivering against the wind.
"Oh, I love the feel of the wind on my skin," he says softly and takes a nice long deep breath of air. "It makes me feel alive," he smiles and Yoochun's gaze feels heated against Changmin's skin.
"It smells dirty," he tries not to breathe it in but he can't help it, not when Yoochun is looking so intently at him. It almost makes him uncomfortable and it's a new sensation. Normally it's he who is making others around him uncomfortable. "Stop looking at me," he says once the light allows them to move across the street and he steps forward.
Yoochun ducks his head for a moment looking bashful and it paints beautifully across his cheeks. "I guess you don't spend too much time in these neighborhoods," he assesses and Changmin nods curtly.
"I don't see why I should," he says pulling Yoochun into him as a crowd of people move towards them in a hurry. His skin is as soft as the cashmere blankets he keeps on his bed. Changmin's hand curls carefully around the girth of his arm and Yoochun stumbles for a moment, falling against him and Changmin ignores the igniting pulse of something rather… exciting. "Be careful," he finds himself saying out of unusual consideration.
He can feel the subtle vibration of Yoochun's laughter against his chest. "Well, you are much nicer under the light of the sun," he smiles and presses his palms against Changmin's chest, moving from his warmth. Yoochun stops walking, right in the middle of the busy sidewalk and pulls his arm gently away, "Changmin," he says with amusement in his eyes.
Changmin stumbles; shocked when Yoochun says his name. What the fuck? "Wait," is the first word that comes from his mouth and Yoochun chuckles to himself, eyes glittering with contentment. "You. You remember me?" he says carefully and Yoochun reaches for him, clasping a powerful grip on his wrist as he guides him through the throngs of people. He trips on his feet rather unattractively. "Hold the fuck up," Changmin manages to regain some sense and pulls away from Yoochun once they are in the clear and on a deserted sidewalk corner.
Yoochun reaches behind him and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, taping one to the opening before he pulls it from the pack and slides it into his lip. Changmin feels his mouth dry up, just for a moment. He honestly doesn't think he's ever seen something so simple be so enticing. "You're such an asshole," he spits and Yoochun continues to spread the smile across his lips.
"Do you think I could forget the most demanding beggar I've ever come across in my life?"
He breathes roughly. "I'm not a fucking beggar!" he cries out loudly and can see a few people turning their curious eyes in their general direction. "Did you remember this entire time?" he demands, feeling his heart racing in confusion.
Yoochun lights his cigarette and takes a long, drag. "From the moment I saw you," he stows the pack back into his pocket and offers Changmin a hit, which he refuses with disgust. "Really, I thought you'd get annoyed but your reaction was pretty priceless," he laughs deeply and takes another drag turning around and digging his other hand into a bright yellow pocket.
Changmin's blood seems to be bubbling, his hands clenching angrily and he wonders if Yoochun can see it ripple under his skin. "Oh, was it?" Changmin asks him, "making me look like a fool, priceless eh?"
Yoochun turns around quickly and drops the cigarette from his fingers and rubs it out. "Calm down, no one cared. They were there to eat their soup, soup which you really gave me hell over," Yoochun grabs Changmin's wrist again and guides him down the side walk. "The soup was good by the way," Yoochun adds as an afterthought and Changmin rips his arm back.
"Why are you so weird?" Changmin stops in the middle of the street and Yoochun stops but a few feet away from him. He rotates slowly and smiles effortlessly.
"Why are you so weird?" he poses and grabs his wrist again, pulling him away before the revving cars roll over him.
Changmin waits at the corner for Jaejoong who promises to pick up him in ten minutes.
Yoochun waits with him even after Changmin tells him he doesn't need a bodyguard.
"With those fancy clothes aren't you afraid someone may attack you?" he smiles simply and Changmin narrows his eyes.
"You should talk. I don't walk around with wads of cash in my pocket," Changmin bites back a little more ferociously then he intends. "Go away now," Changmin waves him off and Yoochun laughs.
"You're weird, Changmin," Yoochun leans in and whispers, then touches his hair, the way his mother does when she wants to take care of him. "But I like that."
Changmin feels his body tense.
"I'm not weird," he tells him quite offended and shifts his eyes to the street, looking out for his friend, anything to avoid looking at this Yoochun who almost seems unreal.
"It's all subjective," Yoochun winks and looks at his watch. "I have class. I should be going," he says and pulls out the money that Changmin gave him earlier. "Here," he reaches out. "I don't want your money," he tells him and outstretches his hand towards him. "Take it back. I didn't really expect you to pay me back anyway."
Changmin looks at him in wonder. "But I told you I would," he pushes his hand back, "I don't want it. It's your money."
But Yoochun laughs merrily as he shoves the cash into his hand with strength and moves away before Changmin has the chance to retaliate. "It was nice seeing you again, Changmin," he says looking at his watch. "Call me one of these days," he catches his eyes.
Changmin finds himself nodding despite himself until he realizes that he never got Yoochun's number. "Hey!" he yells out towards him and Yoochun manages to hear him above the roar of afternoon traffic. "I don't have your number!" Changmin hollers and Yoochun smiles brilliantly under the warm sunshine.
"Look me up!" he yells with laughter and looks at him for a mere second before turning his back and disappearing into the crowd.
He watches him until he can't see the bright yellow pants anymore. Changmin looks at his hand, at the money he left him with and in the center he finds the same multi colored poker chip from the night before.
His fingers curl around slowly as he shoves his hands back into his pocket and he calls Jaejoong.
Continued