Falling from the Sky [Part 9]
[Part 9] -- One more after this! Omona, that was hot!!! Comments are always love~ <3
“Kim Junsu, where on earth have you been?!”
Junsu had walked through the door of his apartment, thoroughly saturated and dripping small rivers into the carpet. His mother had greeted him at the door in a frenzy as if her boy had been swiped off the face of the planet.
“I called the police three times about how my little boy had been lost, kidnapped, or murdered on his way home from school. You had better be glad you had 24 hours to show up or I would have had all of Korea looking for your behind,” She took a breath and ran a hand through her curls which had lost all bounce. Then she looked up at Junsu who had still yet to speak and was looking vaguely passed her head in a kind of reverie.
She sighed. “Junsu-“
“I’m sorry, Mom,” His eyes finally settled on hers and he collected her into a damp hug.
Without realizing the true weight of her son’s words, she watched in awe as he slowly made his way up the stairs, leaving little pools of water on each step.
“You’re not going to study?” She called in half bewilderment.
Junsu paused for a moment in mid-step. “No.” And he continued up to his room.
He pulled off his soaking wet shirt, slung it across the room and collapsed on his bed with his wet jeans, socks and shoes still on. There wasn’t much else he could think of doing other than falling asleep.
His dream was filled with stops and starts. Images of Yoochun’s face pervaded his mind. Yoochun at the bus stop. Yoochun smiling in the mall. Yoochun talking during a movie. Yoochun sweating and dancing in the club. Yoochun laughing in the rain. Yoochun disappearing in a black car.
“Yoochun…” Slipped through Junsu’s sleeping lips as he tossed and turned in wet clothes the rest of the night.
*
The next day, Junsu was surprised he had found his way to the school. During the entire walk, thoughts of Yoochun floated through his mind. The man was like a disease, inducing bouts of intense daydreaming in the middle of important activities such as crossing a busy street.
“…Junsu?!” A familiar voice called out breathlessly behind him. Changmin caught up with the other panting and leaned on Junsu’s shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me calling you? I needed to tell you that I can’t study after school today because I have to babysit the neighbor’s kids. Sorry about that-“
“I’m not studying today,” Junsu murmured dully.
Changmin abruptly stopped walking and let Junsu continue ahead of him for a moment with his mouth hanging open. He ran to catch up with him and walked backwards in front of Junsu. “You-you’re not studying?!” More intelligent words had completely left his mind as he stared at his friend in disbelief.
“How’s Kibum?” Junsu asked ignoring his reaction.
Changmin’s face fell from surprise to despair. “Actually…he hasn’t called yet…”
Junsu looked up at his friend’s pained expression and a muscle clenched in his chest. “How about I buy you ice cream after school before you have to babysit?”
Changmin’s face immediately lit up at the sound of food and quickly fell to suspicion as hastily as it had brightened up. “But…why?”
“Just let me buy you ice cream,” Junsu said quietly as the two walked through the doors of their first class.
Changmin had no choice but to accept this as both took a seat and class began. There was one seat strangely empty behind Junsu as he stared dreamily out the window.
“Junsu, please stand up and recite the next passage and interpret for the class,” Mr. Yesung gestured toward his student.
An awkward silence washed over the class as Junsu’s mind drifted from somewhere out the window and back into class. “Oh. I don’t know, Mr. Yesung.”
Mr. Yesung blinked for a minute and his mouth dropped slightly. “You-you don’t know?” His reaction was uncannily similar to Changmin’s own a few minutes before.
Junsu shook his head absentmindedly and continued staring through the window.
Mr. Yesung seemed painfully flustered. “Are you okay, Junsu? This isn’t like you.” The entire class had turned around to ogle at their valedictorian and murmurs began spreading through the room. Before Mr. Yesung could silence them and continue his class, a sudden outburst emitted from the door.
“Sorry, I’m late, Mr. Yesung!” Yunho said breathlessly. “I overslept and-“ He stopped when he realized the teacher was paying no attention to him and was keeping his eyes pinned on Junsu who seemed to be ignoring the entire world.
Silently, Yunho took his seat behind Junsu and stared at the back of his friend’s head which wasn’t bent over his notes, writing furiously like usually.
Something strange was happening.
*
At lunch, the three took a seat with Donghae and Sungmin who continued chatting as if nothing was wrong.
“Hey, Junsu. Helloooo?” Changmin snapped his fingers in front of Junsu’s blank face.
Junsu blinked a couple times and looked at his friends as if he had never seen them before.
Yunho sighed. “What are you thinking about, Junsu?”
Junsu’s lost gaze floated to the table and hovered there. “I was thinking…that yesterday was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
Yunho and Changmin’s concerned faces changed to that of shock and horror.
“YESTERDAY WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY?!” The two shouted in unison and Donghae and Sungmin turned to look at them strangely.
“I’m so sorry!” Changmin protested fervently. “I had no idea. I mean, it’s not like you reminded us.”
“I can’t believe we missed your eighteenth birthday!” Yunho slammed his palm into his forehead. “Junsu, please forgive us. We-“
“It’s fine,” Junsu said quietly. “You guys have done enough for me.”
Yunho placed his hand over Junsu’s and looked deep into his eyes, trying to catch his gaze. “Please, let us do something for you.”
Junsu clenched his hand under Yunho’s and let it relax. “Fine, then. You’re coming with me and Changmin to get some ice cream after school. Changmin is going to have to go, but you and I can just hang out.”
The two blinked several times. “Wait…. Hang out? You mean, you’re not going to study at all?” Yunho gasped.
Junsu shook his head. “But I’m thinking of getting a job, though.”
“Why the sudden change?” Changmin inquired anxiously.
“I want to help Yunho pay for dance classes.”
Changmin practically spat out his milk. “So that’s what you’ve been doing, Jung Yunho?!”
Yunho sighed and took his hand away from Junsu’s. “I’ll settle with ice cream for your birthday present, then. I can even get us a discount since I work at the one two blocks from the school.”
*
Days went by as Junsu spaced out during his classes, causing his teachers trauma and near heart attacks. He was no longer studying. He was pulling in more and more B’s and low A’s in all his classes, causing the student body to whisper with rumors of Changmin edging up to become the valedictorian.
One day, as Junsu was shuffling through the mail after a particularly uneventful day of gazing out the windows in all his classes, he found a small package signed to him. Curiously, he opened the package and out tumbled a small black cell phone with a note attached to it.
I’ll be paying for the minutes, so call all your friends as many times as possible. Check your contacts list. Happy birthday.
The phone was already fully charged, so Junsu slid open phone and hit the ‘contacts’ button.
There were two numbers.
Voicemail and Yoochun.
Hands shaking, Junsu immediately pressed the send button. After irritably listening to his own inbox for a moment, he hung up, selected the proper name and pressed send again.
The dial tone sang until Junsu thought his legs would turn to jelly before someone loudly answered the phone.
“Hello?!”
“Hello- Y-Yoochun?” His mouth was dry again.
There was a pause on the other line and Junsu could hear loud music and laughter in the background. “Juh Junsu! Hey, what’s up, sexy?!”
Junsu was thoroughly confused. “Yoochun…where are you?”
“I see you got my present, huh?” Yoochun slurred. “That thing is awesome, isn’t it? I woulda got one myself if-Hey, Leeteuk! Don’t start on the pizza without me!”
“Yoochun…” Junsu whimpered pressing the present into his ear. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”
Suddenly, Yoochun exploded in laughter and hiccups before responding without showing any sign that he was listening to the other. “Dude, ya gotta come by my place soon. All your other presents are crowding my space. It’s on the sixth-No, wait. The seventh floor of the Hilton on 48th street. Ya gotta go in the shiny elevator and once you hit the sixth-no, seventh floor, make a right around that gay looking plant, go straight to the end of the hallway, look to the left and you’re there!”
Junsu cradled the phone in his ear and breathed into the microphone while Yoochun shouted at people in the background and asked if Junsu was still there.
“Yoochun…” Junsu fought back a tear. “Yoochun…. Please don’t drink anymore, Yoochun…”
Junsu hung up.
*
“…And then they started making out underwater! I was, like, shocked. You should watch EHB, Junsu. That show is an awesome mess,” Changmin was babbling through bites of chicken in the cafeteria.
Junsu poked at his own food, which was growing cold. “Has Kibum called you, yet?”
Changmin’s paused in the middle of chewing and he looked down at his plate while spearing a carrot. “Not yet.”
Suddenly, a large hand slammed on the table and the two looked up at a very alarmed looking Yunho.
“Look,” He shoved a magazine next to Junsu’s plate and Junsu’s eyes widened.
On the front page of the magazine was a grainy picture of Yoochun on stage looking pale and exhausted, holding a mic lifelessly in his hand.
Super star Micky, who has won two consecutive Best Artist of the Year awards, may be spiraling out of control. His latest performances have been completely devoid of the emotion he has been so highly credited with and he refuses to hold any press conferences or interviews with the media. There is also some speculation that the underaged singer may be indulging in alcohol at numerous wild parties. Is there anything to keep this falling star from crashing into-
“Junsu…” Changmin watched as Junsu pushed the tabloid onto the floor and buried his hand in his arms on the table.
Yunho and Changmin exchanged looks wordlessly. Words weren’t necessary for them to know what was going on.
Changmin brushed his hand through Junsu’s hair and Yunho rubbed his back reassuringly, neither touching their food again until lunch was over.
*
The bell had rung, signaling the end of school and the three friends started on their journeys home passed the school’s gate.
“Have you seen that new movie with Kim Heechul in it?” Changmin asked casually.
“No, but- Hey! Junsu!” Yunho called after the other as he began walking in the opposite direction.
Junsu’s mind was on auto-pilot. He didn’t even realize he had taken a different route until the wind was rushing through his ears and the shouts of his best friends faded into the distance as he ran full speed past the bus stop.
He ran all the way to 48th street, flew up the stairs to the seventh floor, tore down the hallway and panted in front of the door, praying that his lungs wouldn’t burst.
Still gasping, Junsu poised his fist up to the wooden door and pulled back, waiting for his breath to catch up to him. After about five minuets, he gulped and knocked on the door.
There was a long pause in which Junsu felt he had wasted his time and energy running to someone who had probably already moved to a different hotel, when the door finally opened.
Yoochun stood in front of him with his hair still wet as if he had just taken a shower and his white shirt was inside out.
Junsu suddenly felt the feeling of running for seven blocks catch up to him as his breathing increased again.
“Junsu…” Yoochun’s dark eyes brightened slightly, making Junsu’s pounding heart jump up into his throat.
He stepped back and let his visitor in, closing the door behind him. What Junsu saw was a shock. Glass littered the floor along with other debris left over from the fight Yoochun had had with the manager.
“What are you doing here?” Yoochun asked, wishing Junsu had called beforehand so he could finally consider cleaning up the mess. He’d left the Do Not Disturb sign up ever since then so a nosy maid wouldn’t barge in and tamper with the reflection of Yoochun’s life. “Did you…did you run all the way here?”
Junsu, who was sure he had caught his breath before he knocked on the door started panting again. “I- Yes.”
“You know you can take the bus, right?” Yoochun laughed nervously and suddenly looked as if he had remembered something. “Oh- Did you come for your presents? I’ve got them over here.”
He disappeared before Junsu could protest and emerged with all five shopping bags from weeks before.
“I didn’t…come for…” Junsu stammered as he looked into Yoochun’s tired eyes which were slowly losing their glimmer. He gave in.
He slowly stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the plastic straps and brushed against Yoochun’s hands. Yoochun didn’t move.
The two gazed into one another’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity, drinking in the other’s presence. Finally, it was Junsu who broke the stillness.
He dropped the bags and lunged for Yoochun, encircling his arms around his neck and pressed his mouth against his hungrily.
The Yoochun stumbled back until the two had fallen back onto Jaejoong’s bed, which was the only one that still had it’s sheets on.
Junsu could have cried right there. Having Yoochun’s warm skin so close to his own was almost like an addictive drug he’d never had. He let out a frustrated sound muffled into Yoochun’s mouth, as he dug his fingers through the other’s damp hair.
Yoochun’s hand slipped under Junsu’s shirt and he wildly felt his way around Junsu’s smooth skin like a man starving for water in the desert.
Slowly, hesitantly, Junsu allowed Yoochun to take a breath and pull his shirt over his head. Neither were completely sure of when exactly the rest of their clothes had ended up on the floor.
In the next thirty minutes, maybe an hour, or perhaps the rest of the entire day, Junsu reflected about how he had never let anyone’s name or any other word in his mother tongue for that matter slip through his lips as many times in one moment as he did that day.
All responses were simply, “Yoochun…”
“How does this feel?”
“Yoochun…”
“Go further, Junsu…ah…that’s it…”
“Yoochun…”
“Lie on your back.”
“Yoochun…”
“Are you ready?”
“Yoochun…”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yoochun!”
“Is that better?”
“Yoochun…”
“Faster?”
“Yoochun…”
“Junsu!”
“Yoochun…”
Wrapped and tangled in sweaty sheets, Yoochun watched as Junsu’s face released. He had witnessed his angel spread his bright, glittering wings up toward the sky. It was that face that nurtured Yoochun’s own large, black wings back to health and the two took off together to a place so high, no earthly creature could possibly reach them.
Even that breathless, dynamic feeling one got from falling from the sky couldn’t possibly triumph this moment.
“Kim Junsu, where on earth have you been?!”
Junsu had walked through the door of his apartment, thoroughly saturated and dripping small rivers into the carpet. His mother had greeted him at the door in a frenzy as if her boy had been swiped off the face of the planet.
“I called the police three times about how my little boy had been lost, kidnapped, or murdered on his way home from school. You had better be glad you had 24 hours to show up or I would have had all of Korea looking for your behind,” She took a breath and ran a hand through her curls which had lost all bounce. Then she looked up at Junsu who had still yet to speak and was looking vaguely passed her head in a kind of reverie.
She sighed. “Junsu-“
“I’m sorry, Mom,” His eyes finally settled on hers and he collected her into a damp hug.
Without realizing the true weight of her son’s words, she watched in awe as he slowly made his way up the stairs, leaving little pools of water on each step.
“You’re not going to study?” She called in half bewilderment.
Junsu paused for a moment in mid-step. “No.” And he continued up to his room.
He pulled off his soaking wet shirt, slung it across the room and collapsed on his bed with his wet jeans, socks and shoes still on. There wasn’t much else he could think of doing other than falling asleep.
His dream was filled with stops and starts. Images of Yoochun’s face pervaded his mind. Yoochun at the bus stop. Yoochun smiling in the mall. Yoochun talking during a movie. Yoochun sweating and dancing in the club. Yoochun laughing in the rain. Yoochun disappearing in a black car.
“Yoochun…” Slipped through Junsu’s sleeping lips as he tossed and turned in wet clothes the rest of the night.
*
The next day, Junsu was surprised he had found his way to the school. During the entire walk, thoughts of Yoochun floated through his mind. The man was like a disease, inducing bouts of intense daydreaming in the middle of important activities such as crossing a busy street.
“…Junsu?!” A familiar voice called out breathlessly behind him. Changmin caught up with the other panting and leaned on Junsu’s shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me calling you? I needed to tell you that I can’t study after school today because I have to babysit the neighbor’s kids. Sorry about that-“
“I’m not studying today,” Junsu murmured dully.
Changmin abruptly stopped walking and let Junsu continue ahead of him for a moment with his mouth hanging open. He ran to catch up with him and walked backwards in front of Junsu. “You-you’re not studying?!” More intelligent words had completely left his mind as he stared at his friend in disbelief.
“How’s Kibum?” Junsu asked ignoring his reaction.
Changmin’s face fell from surprise to despair. “Actually…he hasn’t called yet…”
Junsu looked up at his friend’s pained expression and a muscle clenched in his chest. “How about I buy you ice cream after school before you have to babysit?”
Changmin’s face immediately lit up at the sound of food and quickly fell to suspicion as hastily as it had brightened up. “But…why?”
“Just let me buy you ice cream,” Junsu said quietly as the two walked through the doors of their first class.
Changmin had no choice but to accept this as both took a seat and class began. There was one seat strangely empty behind Junsu as he stared dreamily out the window.
“Junsu, please stand up and recite the next passage and interpret for the class,” Mr. Yesung gestured toward his student.
An awkward silence washed over the class as Junsu’s mind drifted from somewhere out the window and back into class. “Oh. I don’t know, Mr. Yesung.”
Mr. Yesung blinked for a minute and his mouth dropped slightly. “You-you don’t know?” His reaction was uncannily similar to Changmin’s own a few minutes before.
Junsu shook his head absentmindedly and continued staring through the window.
Mr. Yesung seemed painfully flustered. “Are you okay, Junsu? This isn’t like you.” The entire class had turned around to ogle at their valedictorian and murmurs began spreading through the room. Before Mr. Yesung could silence them and continue his class, a sudden outburst emitted from the door.
“Sorry, I’m late, Mr. Yesung!” Yunho said breathlessly. “I overslept and-“ He stopped when he realized the teacher was paying no attention to him and was keeping his eyes pinned on Junsu who seemed to be ignoring the entire world.
Silently, Yunho took his seat behind Junsu and stared at the back of his friend’s head which wasn’t bent over his notes, writing furiously like usually.
Something strange was happening.
*
At lunch, the three took a seat with Donghae and Sungmin who continued chatting as if nothing was wrong.
“Hey, Junsu. Helloooo?” Changmin snapped his fingers in front of Junsu’s blank face.
Junsu blinked a couple times and looked at his friends as if he had never seen them before.
Yunho sighed. “What are you thinking about, Junsu?”
Junsu’s lost gaze floated to the table and hovered there. “I was thinking…that yesterday was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
Yunho and Changmin’s concerned faces changed to that of shock and horror.
“YESTERDAY WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY?!” The two shouted in unison and Donghae and Sungmin turned to look at them strangely.
“I’m so sorry!” Changmin protested fervently. “I had no idea. I mean, it’s not like you reminded us.”
“I can’t believe we missed your eighteenth birthday!” Yunho slammed his palm into his forehead. “Junsu, please forgive us. We-“
“It’s fine,” Junsu said quietly. “You guys have done enough for me.”
Yunho placed his hand over Junsu’s and looked deep into his eyes, trying to catch his gaze. “Please, let us do something for you.”
Junsu clenched his hand under Yunho’s and let it relax. “Fine, then. You’re coming with me and Changmin to get some ice cream after school. Changmin is going to have to go, but you and I can just hang out.”
The two blinked several times. “Wait…. Hang out? You mean, you’re not going to study at all?” Yunho gasped.
Junsu shook his head. “But I’m thinking of getting a job, though.”
“Why the sudden change?” Changmin inquired anxiously.
“I want to help Yunho pay for dance classes.”
Changmin practically spat out his milk. “So that’s what you’ve been doing, Jung Yunho?!”
Yunho sighed and took his hand away from Junsu’s. “I’ll settle with ice cream for your birthday present, then. I can even get us a discount since I work at the one two blocks from the school.”
*
Days went by as Junsu spaced out during his classes, causing his teachers trauma and near heart attacks. He was no longer studying. He was pulling in more and more B’s and low A’s in all his classes, causing the student body to whisper with rumors of Changmin edging up to become the valedictorian.
One day, as Junsu was shuffling through the mail after a particularly uneventful day of gazing out the windows in all his classes, he found a small package signed to him. Curiously, he opened the package and out tumbled a small black cell phone with a note attached to it.
I’ll be paying for the minutes, so call all your friends as many times as possible. Check your contacts list. Happy birthday.
The phone was already fully charged, so Junsu slid open phone and hit the ‘contacts’ button.
There were two numbers.
Voicemail and Yoochun.
Hands shaking, Junsu immediately pressed the send button. After irritably listening to his own inbox for a moment, he hung up, selected the proper name and pressed send again.
The dial tone sang until Junsu thought his legs would turn to jelly before someone loudly answered the phone.
“Hello?!”
“Hello- Y-Yoochun?” His mouth was dry again.
There was a pause on the other line and Junsu could hear loud music and laughter in the background. “Juh Junsu! Hey, what’s up, sexy?!”
Junsu was thoroughly confused. “Yoochun…where are you?”
“I see you got my present, huh?” Yoochun slurred. “That thing is awesome, isn’t it? I woulda got one myself if-Hey, Leeteuk! Don’t start on the pizza without me!”
“Yoochun…” Junsu whimpered pressing the present into his ear. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”
Suddenly, Yoochun exploded in laughter and hiccups before responding without showing any sign that he was listening to the other. “Dude, ya gotta come by my place soon. All your other presents are crowding my space. It’s on the sixth-No, wait. The seventh floor of the Hilton on 48th street. Ya gotta go in the shiny elevator and once you hit the sixth-no, seventh floor, make a right around that gay looking plant, go straight to the end of the hallway, look to the left and you’re there!”
Junsu cradled the phone in his ear and breathed into the microphone while Yoochun shouted at people in the background and asked if Junsu was still there.
“Yoochun…” Junsu fought back a tear. “Yoochun…. Please don’t drink anymore, Yoochun…”
Junsu hung up.
*
“…And then they started making out underwater! I was, like, shocked. You should watch EHB, Junsu. That show is an awesome mess,” Changmin was babbling through bites of chicken in the cafeteria.
Junsu poked at his own food, which was growing cold. “Has Kibum called you, yet?”
Changmin’s paused in the middle of chewing and he looked down at his plate while spearing a carrot. “Not yet.”
Suddenly, a large hand slammed on the table and the two looked up at a very alarmed looking Yunho.
“Look,” He shoved a magazine next to Junsu’s plate and Junsu’s eyes widened.
On the front page of the magazine was a grainy picture of Yoochun on stage looking pale and exhausted, holding a mic lifelessly in his hand.
Super star Micky, who has won two consecutive Best Artist of the Year awards, may be spiraling out of control. His latest performances have been completely devoid of the emotion he has been so highly credited with and he refuses to hold any press conferences or interviews with the media. There is also some speculation that the underaged singer may be indulging in alcohol at numerous wild parties. Is there anything to keep this falling star from crashing into-
“Junsu…” Changmin watched as Junsu pushed the tabloid onto the floor and buried his hand in his arms on the table.
Yunho and Changmin exchanged looks wordlessly. Words weren’t necessary for them to know what was going on.
Changmin brushed his hand through Junsu’s hair and Yunho rubbed his back reassuringly, neither touching their food again until lunch was over.
*
The bell had rung, signaling the end of school and the three friends started on their journeys home passed the school’s gate.
“Have you seen that new movie with Kim Heechul in it?” Changmin asked casually.
“No, but- Hey! Junsu!” Yunho called after the other as he began walking in the opposite direction.
Junsu’s mind was on auto-pilot. He didn’t even realize he had taken a different route until the wind was rushing through his ears and the shouts of his best friends faded into the distance as he ran full speed past the bus stop.
He ran all the way to 48th street, flew up the stairs to the seventh floor, tore down the hallway and panted in front of the door, praying that his lungs wouldn’t burst.
Still gasping, Junsu poised his fist up to the wooden door and pulled back, waiting for his breath to catch up to him. After about five minuets, he gulped and knocked on the door.
There was a long pause in which Junsu felt he had wasted his time and energy running to someone who had probably already moved to a different hotel, when the door finally opened.
Yoochun stood in front of him with his hair still wet as if he had just taken a shower and his white shirt was inside out.
Junsu suddenly felt the feeling of running for seven blocks catch up to him as his breathing increased again.
“Junsu…” Yoochun’s dark eyes brightened slightly, making Junsu’s pounding heart jump up into his throat.
He stepped back and let his visitor in, closing the door behind him. What Junsu saw was a shock. Glass littered the floor along with other debris left over from the fight Yoochun had had with the manager.
“What are you doing here?” Yoochun asked, wishing Junsu had called beforehand so he could finally consider cleaning up the mess. He’d left the Do Not Disturb sign up ever since then so a nosy maid wouldn’t barge in and tamper with the reflection of Yoochun’s life. “Did you…did you run all the way here?”
Junsu, who was sure he had caught his breath before he knocked on the door started panting again. “I- Yes.”
“You know you can take the bus, right?” Yoochun laughed nervously and suddenly looked as if he had remembered something. “Oh- Did you come for your presents? I’ve got them over here.”
He disappeared before Junsu could protest and emerged with all five shopping bags from weeks before.
“I didn’t…come for…” Junsu stammered as he looked into Yoochun’s tired eyes which were slowly losing their glimmer. He gave in.
He slowly stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the plastic straps and brushed against Yoochun’s hands. Yoochun didn’t move.
The two gazed into one another’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity, drinking in the other’s presence. Finally, it was Junsu who broke the stillness.
He dropped the bags and lunged for Yoochun, encircling his arms around his neck and pressed his mouth against his hungrily.
The Yoochun stumbled back until the two had fallen back onto Jaejoong’s bed, which was the only one that still had it’s sheets on.
Junsu could have cried right there. Having Yoochun’s warm skin so close to his own was almost like an addictive drug he’d never had. He let out a frustrated sound muffled into Yoochun’s mouth, as he dug his fingers through the other’s damp hair.
Yoochun’s hand slipped under Junsu’s shirt and he wildly felt his way around Junsu’s smooth skin like a man starving for water in the desert.
Slowly, hesitantly, Junsu allowed Yoochun to take a breath and pull his shirt over his head. Neither were completely sure of when exactly the rest of their clothes had ended up on the floor.
In the next thirty minutes, maybe an hour, or perhaps the rest of the entire day, Junsu reflected about how he had never let anyone’s name or any other word in his mother tongue for that matter slip through his lips as many times in one moment as he did that day.
All responses were simply, “Yoochun…”
“How does this feel?”
“Yoochun…”
“Go further, Junsu…ah…that’s it…”
“Yoochun…”
“Lie on your back.”
“Yoochun…”
“Are you ready?”
“Yoochun…”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yoochun!”
“Is that better?”
“Yoochun…”
“Faster?”
“Yoochun…”
“Junsu!”
“Yoochun…”
Wrapped and tangled in sweaty sheets, Yoochun watched as Junsu’s face released. He had witnessed his angel spread his bright, glittering wings up toward the sky. It was that face that nurtured Yoochun’s own large, black wings back to health and the two took off together to a place so high, no earthly creature could possibly reach them.
Even that breathless, dynamic feeling one got from falling from the sky couldn’t possibly triumph this moment.