reply 2008: start over
reply 2008: start over
junhee/yoonjae, pg-13, general
for this prompt. thanks to youniqorn for convincing me about this ♥
Junhee has to steel himself before he walks into the restaurant for fear of what he’d find on Yoonjae’s face, but he finds Yoonjae calmly at their table, giving him an easy smile when he spots Junhee. A real smile, too.
Junhee returns it as he takes his seat across from Yoonjae, still with trepidation, but Yoonjae seems fine. More relaxed, actually, than when Junhee had last seen him, like that big worry had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Hey,” Yoonjae gives him a small crooked smile to the right of his mouth, and holds his hand out for a bro-five. Junhee returns it with his slowly diminishing apprehension.
After they’ve ordered and Yoonjae’s gotten two pints of beer from the bar for them, chugging down quite a bit - a drop escapes his lips and makes its way down Yoonjae’s neck, and Junhee catches it with his napkin before he can stop himself - Yoonjae asks about Junhee’s work.
“It’s okay,” Junhee replies slowly. This dinner wasn’t a casual meeting; he knew what Yoonjae had done right before this, or was supposed to have done. He drops the question, ignoring the pumping in his heart. Old habits die hard.
“You... did it?” This comes out more hopeful than he had intended, but thankfully Yoonjae doesn’t seem to catch it. He shrugs and takes another gulp of beer.
‘“Yup. It wasn’t even a big deal, Shiwon clearly expected it anyway. She said she would have brought it up if I didn’t.” Yoonjae takes another swig of beer and holds his mug out at Junhee. “Toast.”
Junhee holds his own out amusedly, but manages to keep a rein on his eyebrow.
“To singlehood,” Yoonjae says, and clinks glasses. Junhee snorts, but takes a gulp.
Junhee lets his heart slow as dinner continues, Yoonjae seemingly absolutely fine about the breakup. They’d all known it ages ago, really - Junhee can barely remember the first time Yoonjae had called him up and told him about how finally, finally getting with Shiwon was nothing like what he’d expected. (The little jump in Junhee’s heart, though, when he had heard this, is something else he can remember distinctly, but Junhee doesn’t let himself think of this much.)
“Seriously,” Yoonjae says through a mouthful of japchae, spraying some in Junhee’s face, “I don’t know if it was the fact that I had a bunch of fantasies and all of them fell through, or something.”
Junhee laughs a little, quietly, but offers nothing else. He doesn’t even know what to say. That little jump, the one that feels like hope, is back again. He ignores it.
Yoonjae snorts and shakes his head, shoveling rice into his mouth. “We’re still friends, of course - maybe more than friends, like siblings, I guess, but that’s about it. Also the fights weren’t great.”
“You’ve spent nearly your whole lives together,” Junhee supplies, like it means anything to the conversation, but Yoonjae seems to get it, though Junhee suspects Yoonjae is getting progressively drunk.
“Right?” Yoonjae slurs. “It’s kind of strange, when you think about it.” He shrugs, then kicks Junhee in the shin. “So, what’s up? You cure cancer, yet?”
“You met me last week,” Junhee finally lets a smile take over his lips. “And I hadn’t then, remember?”
“You never know,” Yoonjae says, sloshing more beer out of his mouth as he drinks. Junhee doesn’t reach over to stop the dribbling beer, now, just laughs and shakes his head, when Yoonjae reaches over to slide his hand over Junhee’s.
Yoonjae’s palm is warm, sticky and a little dangerous, because they’ve touched a bazillion times, and in places a hundred times more inappropriate, but this time it seems intentional. Yoonjae’s staring right at him, his eye sharp, the hint of a smile on his mouth.
Junhee stares at Yoonjae’s palm for a second too long, then slides his hand out under it to give Yoonjae a pat on his shoulder as he stands up. “Let’s get you home. buddy. You’re drunk.”
“I’m not,” Yoonjae slurs, more unintelligible this time, and lolls against Junhee as he gets pulled up.
Junhee juggles paying, looking for his car and supporting a babbling Yoonjae at the same time, stuffing Yoonjae into the passenger seat and doing up his seatbelt. He’s distinctly aware of Yoonjae watching him as he makes his way round the front of the car to the driver’s seat.
“You know,” Yoonjae slurs quietly, “you ruined a bunch of those fantasies for me. Like you would make me breakfast in the morning and wake me up. And cuddle at night. Shiwon does none of that.”
“You’re drunk,” Junhee tells him firmly, and swallows to ignore the pounding in his heart, the rushing of blood to his ears. This is not hope, he tells himself. This is the start of fresh new heartbreak. Shut the fuck up, Junhee.
“I’m not drunk,” Yoonjae insists, and places an insistent hand on Junhee’s arm. Junhee lets himself look over - a moment of weakness - and he finds Yoonjae’s lips on his.
Junhee cannot remember the number of times he has let himself imagine this, with a bitter smile or a deep breath and a bite of his lip after to remind himself this was never going to be reality, but here it is, now, Yoonjae tasting of beer and loneliness. Yoonjae is kissing him, taking his lower lip between his, slow but insistent like he means it, and it is literally all Junhee can do not to hold still.
One second, he tells himself. Just one second.
It takes herculean amounts of effort, but Junhee remembers the quiet breaking of his heart back when he heard that Yoonjae had finally gotten together with Shiwon, so quiet that he was surprised it hurt so much, and braces his hands on Yoonjae’s shoulders to push him away.
“You’re drunk,” he tells himself in particular, and hightails it to Taewoong’s place to drop Yoonjae off. Yoonjae is uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the journey, and this strangeness slips under Junhee’s skin like an itch for the rest of the night.
---
The chair of truth is Junhee’s first stop the minute he gets a break from his rounds, but he stops short when he hears, from the stairwell above, Yoonjae’s resigned voice.
“I did, stop calling me an idiot, you idiot. I kissed him.”
“And?” The stairwell is quiet enough for Junhee to hear Shiwon’s loud, impatient voice coming out of Yoonjae’s phone.
“And nothing. He said I was drunk and pushed me away.”
Shiwon says something in reply that Junhee cannot hear, but he sees Yoonjae ruffle his hair frustratedly.
“I wasn’t...... well, not even near enough to be slurring or anything. But I kind of faked it.”
“God damn, Yoon Yoonjae. What for?” Junhee can almost see Shiwon rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone.
“I didn’t want it to seem weird or anything, okay? I just wanted to see what it felt like. It felt really.... right. And also..... like there was a spark?” Yoonjae says, and Junhee feels his heart about to jump out of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat at the base of his throat - he’s not sure how long he can stay there soundless, so he makes to slip out of the stairwell to breathe, fill his lungs with air.
His ears are ringing in a vacuum and all he can hear is the thumping of his heartbeat and his heart screaming at him to stop thinking, so he doesn’t hear the thunk of his shoe against the railing when he yanks the door open, nor see Yoonjae whipping his head up and catching a glimpse. He’s breathing as hard as he can against the wall outside the stairwell when Yoonjae pulls the door open and steps out, next to him.
Junhee can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t think, and thinks that this is a little unfair of Yoonjae to sneak an attack on him when Yoonjae moves closer to place a hand on Junhee’s forearm, the same contact that caused his moment of weakness the night before. Junhee looks over again like the utter idiot he is.
“You heard, right?” Yoonjae asks, his face set in seriousness. Junhee is unfamiliar with this expression of Yoonjae’s because Yoonjae is mostly scowling or sarcastic or genuinely laughing, until his mind places it as the one Yoonjae has on when it concerns things incredibly important to him. Junhee still hasn’t forgotten Yoonjae’s face right before it was his turn for the physical examination at the airspace academy.
Junhee swallows, but Yoonjae sees it. It’s nearly unsettling how well Yoonjae reads him, despite not being able to read half the world. Years of waking up right next to someone with shit in their eyes and drool down their chin means for a whole new level of understanding.
“Do -” Yoonjae falters now, and Junhee sees his apprehension at the things he thinks he’s not good at, “you, uh. Still? Like me?”
Junhee is stunned speechless at how Yoonjae knows - he’d never mentioned anything, all these years, yet this is so large a part of Junhee’s consciousness whenever he’s around Yoonjae that it seems almost suffocating, so much that it feels dumb and myopic to assume that Yoonjae never suspected - and stares back at him.
“Look,” Yoonjae takes a deep breath, “I wasn’t going to, you know, spring one on you like that. But I’m not seventeen any more, I don’t want to have to stake everything on one day and watch it crash and burn. I just. Sorry. Not really sorry.”
Junhee’s not really hearing much. All he can do is watch the movement of Yoonjae’s lips, the sharpness of Yoonjae’s lazy eye, and feel the rush of hope in his chest.
“I missed,” Yoonjae starts, then drops his eyes like he always does when he’s embarrassed. “Us.” The last word is so soft Junhee doesn’t know if he heard it right. He has to force his heart down the back of his throat.
When he finally musters up the strength to look Yoonjae in the eye, Yoonjae doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Junhee, but he thinks something parses between them.
It feels like a new beginning.
junhee/yoonjae, pg-13, general
for this prompt. thanks to youniqorn for convincing me about this ♥
Junhee has to steel himself before he walks into the restaurant for fear of what he’d find on Yoonjae’s face, but he finds Yoonjae calmly at their table, giving him an easy smile when he spots Junhee. A real smile, too.
Junhee returns it as he takes his seat across from Yoonjae, still with trepidation, but Yoonjae seems fine. More relaxed, actually, than when Junhee had last seen him, like that big worry had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Hey,” Yoonjae gives him a small crooked smile to the right of his mouth, and holds his hand out for a bro-five. Junhee returns it with his slowly diminishing apprehension.
After they’ve ordered and Yoonjae’s gotten two pints of beer from the bar for them, chugging down quite a bit - a drop escapes his lips and makes its way down Yoonjae’s neck, and Junhee catches it with his napkin before he can stop himself - Yoonjae asks about Junhee’s work.
“It’s okay,” Junhee replies slowly. This dinner wasn’t a casual meeting; he knew what Yoonjae had done right before this, or was supposed to have done. He drops the question, ignoring the pumping in his heart. Old habits die hard.
“You... did it?” This comes out more hopeful than he had intended, but thankfully Yoonjae doesn’t seem to catch it. He shrugs and takes another gulp of beer.
‘“Yup. It wasn’t even a big deal, Shiwon clearly expected it anyway. She said she would have brought it up if I didn’t.” Yoonjae takes another swig of beer and holds his mug out at Junhee. “Toast.”
Junhee holds his own out amusedly, but manages to keep a rein on his eyebrow.
“To singlehood,” Yoonjae says, and clinks glasses. Junhee snorts, but takes a gulp.
Junhee lets his heart slow as dinner continues, Yoonjae seemingly absolutely fine about the breakup. They’d all known it ages ago, really - Junhee can barely remember the first time Yoonjae had called him up and told him about how finally, finally getting with Shiwon was nothing like what he’d expected. (The little jump in Junhee’s heart, though, when he had heard this, is something else he can remember distinctly, but Junhee doesn’t let himself think of this much.)
“Seriously,” Yoonjae says through a mouthful of japchae, spraying some in Junhee’s face, “I don’t know if it was the fact that I had a bunch of fantasies and all of them fell through, or something.”
Junhee laughs a little, quietly, but offers nothing else. He doesn’t even know what to say. That little jump, the one that feels like hope, is back again. He ignores it.
Yoonjae snorts and shakes his head, shoveling rice into his mouth. “We’re still friends, of course - maybe more than friends, like siblings, I guess, but that’s about it. Also the fights weren’t great.”
“You’ve spent nearly your whole lives together,” Junhee supplies, like it means anything to the conversation, but Yoonjae seems to get it, though Junhee suspects Yoonjae is getting progressively drunk.
“Right?” Yoonjae slurs. “It’s kind of strange, when you think about it.” He shrugs, then kicks Junhee in the shin. “So, what’s up? You cure cancer, yet?”
“You met me last week,” Junhee finally lets a smile take over his lips. “And I hadn’t then, remember?”
“You never know,” Yoonjae says, sloshing more beer out of his mouth as he drinks. Junhee doesn’t reach over to stop the dribbling beer, now, just laughs and shakes his head, when Yoonjae reaches over to slide his hand over Junhee’s.
Yoonjae’s palm is warm, sticky and a little dangerous, because they’ve touched a bazillion times, and in places a hundred times more inappropriate, but this time it seems intentional. Yoonjae’s staring right at him, his eye sharp, the hint of a smile on his mouth.
Junhee stares at Yoonjae’s palm for a second too long, then slides his hand out under it to give Yoonjae a pat on his shoulder as he stands up. “Let’s get you home. buddy. You’re drunk.”
“I’m not,” Yoonjae slurs, more unintelligible this time, and lolls against Junhee as he gets pulled up.
Junhee juggles paying, looking for his car and supporting a babbling Yoonjae at the same time, stuffing Yoonjae into the passenger seat and doing up his seatbelt. He’s distinctly aware of Yoonjae watching him as he makes his way round the front of the car to the driver’s seat.
“You know,” Yoonjae slurs quietly, “you ruined a bunch of those fantasies for me. Like you would make me breakfast in the morning and wake me up. And cuddle at night. Shiwon does none of that.”
“You’re drunk,” Junhee tells him firmly, and swallows to ignore the pounding in his heart, the rushing of blood to his ears. This is not hope, he tells himself. This is the start of fresh new heartbreak. Shut the fuck up, Junhee.
“I’m not drunk,” Yoonjae insists, and places an insistent hand on Junhee’s arm. Junhee lets himself look over - a moment of weakness - and he finds Yoonjae’s lips on his.
Junhee cannot remember the number of times he has let himself imagine this, with a bitter smile or a deep breath and a bite of his lip after to remind himself this was never going to be reality, but here it is, now, Yoonjae tasting of beer and loneliness. Yoonjae is kissing him, taking his lower lip between his, slow but insistent like he means it, and it is literally all Junhee can do not to hold still.
One second, he tells himself. Just one second.
It takes herculean amounts of effort, but Junhee remembers the quiet breaking of his heart back when he heard that Yoonjae had finally gotten together with Shiwon, so quiet that he was surprised it hurt so much, and braces his hands on Yoonjae’s shoulders to push him away.
“You’re drunk,” he tells himself in particular, and hightails it to Taewoong’s place to drop Yoonjae off. Yoonjae is uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the journey, and this strangeness slips under Junhee’s skin like an itch for the rest of the night.
---
The chair of truth is Junhee’s first stop the minute he gets a break from his rounds, but he stops short when he hears, from the stairwell above, Yoonjae’s resigned voice.
“I did, stop calling me an idiot, you idiot. I kissed him.”
“And?” The stairwell is quiet enough for Junhee to hear Shiwon’s loud, impatient voice coming out of Yoonjae’s phone.
“And nothing. He said I was drunk and pushed me away.”
Shiwon says something in reply that Junhee cannot hear, but he sees Yoonjae ruffle his hair frustratedly.
“I wasn’t...... well, not even near enough to be slurring or anything. But I kind of faked it.”
“God damn, Yoon Yoonjae. What for?” Junhee can almost see Shiwon rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone.
“I didn’t want it to seem weird or anything, okay? I just wanted to see what it felt like. It felt really.... right. And also..... like there was a spark?” Yoonjae says, and Junhee feels his heart about to jump out of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat at the base of his throat - he’s not sure how long he can stay there soundless, so he makes to slip out of the stairwell to breathe, fill his lungs with air.
His ears are ringing in a vacuum and all he can hear is the thumping of his heartbeat and his heart screaming at him to stop thinking, so he doesn’t hear the thunk of his shoe against the railing when he yanks the door open, nor see Yoonjae whipping his head up and catching a glimpse. He’s breathing as hard as he can against the wall outside the stairwell when Yoonjae pulls the door open and steps out, next to him.
Junhee can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t think, and thinks that this is a little unfair of Yoonjae to sneak an attack on him when Yoonjae moves closer to place a hand on Junhee’s forearm, the same contact that caused his moment of weakness the night before. Junhee looks over again like the utter idiot he is.
“You heard, right?” Yoonjae asks, his face set in seriousness. Junhee is unfamiliar with this expression of Yoonjae’s because Yoonjae is mostly scowling or sarcastic or genuinely laughing, until his mind places it as the one Yoonjae has on when it concerns things incredibly important to him. Junhee still hasn’t forgotten Yoonjae’s face right before it was his turn for the physical examination at the airspace academy.
Junhee swallows, but Yoonjae sees it. It’s nearly unsettling how well Yoonjae reads him, despite not being able to read half the world. Years of waking up right next to someone with shit in their eyes and drool down their chin means for a whole new level of understanding.
“Do -” Yoonjae falters now, and Junhee sees his apprehension at the things he thinks he’s not good at, “you, uh. Still? Like me?”
Junhee is stunned speechless at how Yoonjae knows - he’d never mentioned anything, all these years, yet this is so large a part of Junhee’s consciousness whenever he’s around Yoonjae that it seems almost suffocating, so much that it feels dumb and myopic to assume that Yoonjae never suspected - and stares back at him.
“Look,” Yoonjae takes a deep breath, “I wasn’t going to, you know, spring one on you like that. But I’m not seventeen any more, I don’t want to have to stake everything on one day and watch it crash and burn. I just. Sorry. Not really sorry.”
Junhee’s not really hearing much. All he can do is watch the movement of Yoonjae’s lips, the sharpness of Yoonjae’s lazy eye, and feel the rush of hope in his chest.
“I missed,” Yoonjae starts, then drops his eyes like he always does when he’s embarrassed. “Us.” The last word is so soft Junhee doesn’t know if he heard it right. He has to force his heart down the back of his throat.
When he finally musters up the strength to look Yoonjae in the eye, Yoonjae doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Junhee, but he thinks something parses between them.
It feels like a new beginning.