#145: Until Next Time, Take Care

[kaifectionery]

Title: Until next time, take care
Pairing(s): Jongin/ Sehun
Rating: PG-13
Length: 4.8k
Warning(s): [Please click to open.]Self-harm
Summary: Jongin is calling Sehun late at night because his dad is drinking again and it just makes him frustrated because he can't do anything and just want to hear Sehun's voice.

Author's Note: It jumps, and may get confusing.



Jongin is sobbing as his father barks at his door on a summer night. The air is stuffy and he'd already have difficulty breathing. He reach for his inhaler.

"You're so fucking useless!"

"So fucking useless!"

The plastic cracks between his teeth in a puff and he squeezes his eyes shut. He inhales shakily as aerosolized took over, running through his windpipe where he find himself breathing again.

His fingers are freezing and with a sweaty palm reach for his phone. He calls the only number he'd left on his contacts list.

"Hello?" The voice. His favourite voice soothes him like a puff of menthol cigarettes. "Jongin?"

He lays limp by his bed and the screaming of his father stays muffled by the bubble Sehun's voice had created.

"Jongin?" He shut his eyes. "Is something wrong? I can hear your dad shouting."

"Jongin."

Sehun is patient and Jongin loved that about him. He had waited for stable exhales and Jongin to willing say something. It makes Jongin hate himself more than he already is.

"I... My father started drinking," He breathes, fingers at his temples. "All is cool, I just..."

"Just?" He questions after a long pause.

"Good night, Sehun."

The bubble pops when Jongin hung up. He huddle himself between the bed and the night stand for the night.

The temporary auditor has arrived with a small paper bag of stationary when Kyungsoo showed him in.

Jongin grow nervous, hoping he wouldn't be assigned to the seat across him. He does not want to deal with someone new, he wants Junmyeon back already.

The plastic in his pocket snaps when the young man settles across him. Jongin realise he'd break a piece off his inhaler, again. His hands shake in his pants pocket. His brain roils for answers to questions he'd guess the new colleague would ask.

Jongin barely register the muffled greeting Kyungsoo offered before he left the man alone to settle.

"Hi."

It startles Jongin like a toy thrown unexpectedly to a cat.

Jongin gets caught in his breath and he feel his breathing tubes swell. They grow sore in a fraction of second from anxiety and he find his inhaler between his lips.

The new auditor is worried sick. His brows are furrowed and his hands hang awkwardly forward, trying to help Jongin when really there isn't much he could do.

"Oh dear, should I call someone?" He asks, stepping out of his desk and Jongin had frantically motioned for him to stay. He couldn't deal with him getting close.

Jongin eyes shut for a second puff and this time it calms his breathing.

Ten... nine... eight...

He's counting in his head with his held breath. It'll be okay, he'd reassure himself.

When his eyes reopen the new auditor is back in his seat. His arms are on the table, crossed. His brows are still frowning and he is gnawing on his bottom lip.

"I didn't mean to-"

Jongin reassures mostly convincing himself, "I am okay, I am okay."

The man slumps back in his seat, "I am so sorry."

"I wanted to introduce myself," his lips curl down rather apologetically. "I guess I got the worst first impression."

Jongin is taking too long to think of something to respond to that. He doesn't want to sound rude, or if he's trying too hard and he'd end up with a soft chuckle that sounds awfully forced.

It shows on Sehun's face. The way the corners of his lips falls just slightly and his brows curling into a frown. His cheeks flushed and Jongin had guess it's probably out of embarrassment.

He is certain when Sehun had opt to kill the conversation by beginning with the first folder on hand.

Jongin continues with his too, very glad that he'd be left alone. No more panics.

Until lunch.

"Not going out?" Jongin barely recognise Sehun's voice. It is not yet familiar though he'd guess if he were to get used to it, Joonmyeon would be back.

"I have lunch packed today." Jongin says, looking down at his Tupperware.

It has long condensed but it never was in issue, there is a microwave in the pantry.

"Cool, want anything though?" Sehun shrugs when Jongin manages to pull his eyes up. "Cola, coffee?"

"No, thank you." Jongin dismisses politely.

Sehun's eyes are smiling. They look perfect. They make Jongin smile too. Before he know it, his fingers are grazing over the apples of his cheek.

Sehun pause at his fork. His eyes are wide in both surprise and amusement. Jongin had realise what he is doing and draws. He rubs them in a fist, cursing himself inside.

Oh goodness!

"Did I have something?" Sehun asks out of courtesy, or so Jongin guess.

He shakes his head and apologises.

"Don't apologise, it's fine."

Sehun is very nice. He is too nice Jongin feels afraid. There are two kinds of fear,

One, Sehun might have a motive. He probably wants something from Jongin. He might be calculating his moves; the amount of days he'll play pretend until he strikes for whatever he wants then leave Jongin drained and weeping.

Two, he doesn't want to lose this nice person. He'd hope Junmyeon would get another job. Or maybe another position. Just not replace the man in the space across his desk.

Sehun might leave, after he unravels Jongin.

Lunch is great with soft laughter and stupid conversations about the government. Sometimes they complain about the taxes, others about the medical plans.

There is this special bubble Sehun creates around them and it makes him feel safe. It makes Jongin feel like he is in a well guarded room, just Sehun and him.

No intrusive thoughts, no paranoia, just low rumbles that bring comfort and peace.

The centre named her Seul. It was in the dusk the doctors lost her and with determined hearts they got her back. At four, her right wrist was casted, an oxygen mask pressing at her muzzle. She wouldn't cry. It wasn't until three months later she could be granted a discharge.

It all started off rough. She wouldn't run with the other kids neither would she whine over extra vegetables in her plate. But like kids, she grew to know the caretakers. She began playing catch, she would piece puzzles with the other kids.

Today she stand three feet at five years old. Her hair falls just above her shoulders, curling outwards. Her laugh is high pitched and it would end with a short squeak.

Sehun nudge at her cheek when he'd first see her.

"Hello." His voice is soft and Jongin could feel a pinch of jealousy because it's softer than how he'd talk to him.

"Hello." Her voice is soft and slightly rasped.

"What is your name?" Sehun's hands are at his knees, fingers curling in each other. He is probably nervous too.

She has Bambi eyes. Her hair is dark and it shines with a healthy gloss. Her lips are slightly pink tinted and it fades out to a orangey nude.

"Seul." She says, as Sehun tuck hair behind her ears. She had drawn back, making Sehun step back as well.

"How are you doing?" Sehun offers a smile in apology.

"I am fine, thank you. And you?"

It's obvious she had memorise that line.

"I am fine too, thank you."

Sehun had held his hand out, waiting for her to take it. She eventually does after running her Bambi eyes up and down (probably) stranger number eight.

They have only been briefly informed about her past and that she is selectively shy, explaining why she is still around.

Seul is running with Sehun. She is chasing him with a slice of soggy bread in her hand. Jongin wants to take it, throw it away, but Sehun had suggested otherwise.

Jongin watch them play. He doesn't feel entirely sure about raising her happy. What if he turn out like him? Always curled up in nerves and fear. Jongin is afraid he wouldn't make a good father. He doesn't want to let Sehun down.

She stop by the bench where Jongin is sitting. He take the chance to wipe her sweaty head dry. He fixes her pigtails, tug on her dress a bit then take the chance to steal her bread.

"Look, it's all dirty." He explains afterward.

"Feed, feed the birds." She says pointing into nothing. "Birds."

"Yes, yes. I will." He's smiling down at her. Her shoulder slump dramatically when she sighs. "What's wrong?"

"Don't go."

Jongin press his lips into a grim line. Same, sweetheart. "I'm not leaving, yet."

"But you always leave with Sehun at five ser-thy."

Jongin considers, maybe they could bring her home today. He take her hand, bringing her back into the centre where he'd find Sehun engaged in a discussion with one of the caretakers.

They talk some more, until Sehun turn to ask if Jongin is okay with taking her home Friday evening.

Jongin nods, they could after work.

For once, for the first time, Jongin feels good about himself. That he is dealing with himself right. He still need his inhaler, from time to time but mostly for his asthma attacks, not panic attacks.

He is at his peak with Sehun and their daughter. He is very content with knocking off on his bike, then he would return home with little Seul. Sehun would come back few minutes later. He would get a kiss on his temple as he whip something up in the kitchen.

It would be the other way around on the odd days.

Their home is warm and it smells like home. Not like his old home, it's new, far from his childhood.

Jongin's mother is stumbling at the carpet in the living room when he had return with take out. He leaves it on the coffee table.

The house reeks of damp clothes and mouldy crisps. Jongin locks himself in the room before his father returns.

That crack whore, he loves her though. She is his mother after all and somewhere inside him is convinced he was part of why she'd break.

Jongin sheds his uniform and he'd find himself with the tip of his technical pencil. He stabs it in his thighs. He drags the pencil down with his jaws clenched tight.

He doesn't tear. The back of his head stings from his tight jaw. When he'd hear the faint comfort of his father, his fingers loose and the pencil breaks at its lead. Jongin doesn't bother to pull it out and he's out his door, launching at his father's back.

He's crying. He is sobbing in his shoulder, arms around his neck until he feel the comfort of his parent. The way his dad had stroke on his arm.

"I'm so sorry."

The mornings with Sehun are soft and Jongin wants them to last forever but they have to go to work. A year has passed since Junmyeon is back and Sehun has transferred to another company two streets down Jongin's.

Sehun walks really fast so they could leave home together then split ways after six stops on the train.

Sehun's lips look dry today and Jongin had reach to thumb on it. It makes Sehun smile and Jongin wants this to last forever. He doesn't want to get up - then he'll have to deal with eight hours alone.

"Good morning." Jongin murmurs.

Sehun mouths it back. His throat is too hoarse for even a whimper and Jongin knows. He returns it with a smile and snuggles closer under the sheets.

Sehun ask where Jongin wants to go later for lunch after he'd let his throat settle. Jongin tells him he had a lunch meeting and couldn't make it with a slight dull in his voice.

He'd earn a kiss on his forehead.

"It's okay."

The bed dips as Jongin watch Sehun sit up. He run his hand over his hair, cover his yawn with the back of his hand and he stretches. They reach for Jongin so he could drag him up to get dressed and ready for the day.

Jongin gets called into the manager's office at quarter past two and he glanced nervously at Sehun while a hand slipped in his pocket. His fingers toy with his inhaler again and he try to not trip on his own feet.

Sehun had offered a tug of his lips and Jongin didn't know what it meant. Some had told him it was reassurance others were dragging him; Sehun did it out of courtesy. It makes his lips part for a deep breath.

Minutes passed before Jongin walk out of the office with his inhaler in his curled fist. He brush past Sehun unintentionally and it made his heart rush.

Jongin jolts when Sehun wrap his hands around his fists and he realises they're at the gents.

"Jongin?" Sehun's eyes are wide with concern. "Did something happen?"

Sehun is prying his cold fist open and Jongin pants softly under his breath while his head sort out for an answer.

Nothing much, just screwed up a report.

"No."

I screwed up big time, I might get kicked out.

"No."

The report for the damaged company vehicle-

"No, no, no."

"Jongin, no what?" Sehun is shaking him lightly and he press the mouth of his inhaler at his lips. "Take this."

Jongin accepts it and his chest rises as he held the puff before he slumping into Sehun's figure.

"I screwed up..."

"Hey, it's fine. No big deal." That bubble is there again, it's nice and Jongin find himself snuggling deep in his hold. "I screw up all the time, just don't do the same for the next."

"You'll be fine."

It has reduced to twice a month as per Jongin's request they meet. Seul is now seven and she knows what is going on. She let go of Sehun to go running for Jongin who has been waiting in the midst of the afternoon crowd at the train station.

"Daddy!" She snuggles into his jacket and he sway.

Jongin had missed her.

"Hello, Angel." He snuggles back in her small frame. She smells like their home; his old home.

When he'd set her down, her eyes look up into his and she starts talking about how she's been doing since they last met. From the corner of his eye, Sehun is near and he reluctantly pull his gaze from their child to look at him.

"Ice cream?" Sehun suggests and Seul jumps, her hair bounces softly along with the hood behind her.

Jongin agreed and he take her hand.

They settle at an ice cream shop near the train station. It is filled with teenage girls but it's all muffled by that special space Sehun creates which Seul now contributes.

"Papa brought me to paint at the fields and I painted sunflowers." She explains, tugging onto Sehun for his phone to show Jongin her pieces.

Her hand taps diligently onto his phone and she showed Jongin the paintings.

"It was beautiful. We saw ant nests and grasshoppers. I caught some but Papa say to let them go when we leave." She look right up at Jongin and she does that stare. The one that makes his heart ache. The one where he'd feel the rush of guilt for being like this.

"Because if we brought them back they will die. They can't live at home, they live in the fields."

She speaks really well now. Jongin is proud of her.

"Yes, they have to live in the fields."

Her thumb is pressing on the screen where Jongin can see the next photo balancing to slide to view. She look up at him again, that same gaze.

Jongin feels guilty and he would do what he do best, cower and sob in his arms. He regrets being like this, being fragile and sensitive.

"Daddy we should draw together, next time."

Jongin nods, and he knows he's lying. Sehun wouldn't like that idea. He, himself don't want to grow anymore attached to her. It would be a mess.

The home stench of dead animals when Jongin had return. His backpack falls off his shoulder and he is gaping at the scene. The coffee table is overturned and the beer bottles has shattered. The curtains are ripped off the windows.

The home is small and he see her there, dead cold on the linoleum. The rug had held most of her blood, the rest left to stain the floor.

Jongin doesn't realise he's broken his inhaler. A broken edge is eating into his skin and he is dying for the pain to sit in but it doesn't compare to the one before his eyes.

She is dead.

She is fucking dead.

Jongin is falling and he doesn't pray for his guardian Angel to save him. Sehun might or might not have given up on him. He once promise he would never though. Who knows? People grow wear over time.

Jongin isn't home very often. That perfect picture of his family is crumbling because he found comfort in something else. They made him forget for a bit and they made him not feel a thing.

Something went wrong along the way. He was suppose to be content with this. With Sehun and their little girl. It all went wrong.

"Jongin, is something the matter?" Sehun asks with such tender and concern it almost as if he wants the guilt to slap hard on Jongin's face.

"You look fly." Jongin slurs, as he points at nothing. "Sooooo fly."

Jongin starts coughing when Sehun had manage to seatbelt him to the passenger's seat. Jongin coughs when he eats something citrus or mango, or if he had alcohol. His throat swells and it gets difficult to breath, usually his inhaler would do the job but Sehun can't find it anywhere. Not in his pocket or at the compartment they have spare in the car.

Sehun paddles down.

"Sehun," Jongin repeats between coughs. "Sehun."

"Sehun."

"Jongin, shut up." Sehun finally snaps. "Shut the fuck up."

"Shut the fuck up." Jongin parrots. "There, you said it. You are sick of me. You're sick of this grown man, chewing on the plastic of his inhaler every time he gets a panic attack."

"You're sick of me." Jongin starts crying, "You finally said it."

"Would you leave if you know I'm actually a handful?" Jongin asks and he panics at how he'd left his inhaler on Sehun's kitchen table.

Sehun watch his fingers twitch against the pillow.

"Why do you think I'm still here?"

Jongin is in denial. His life is a mess, he'd stuck to that one job for years because he couldn't afford to deal with more changes without giving himself a mental breakdown.

His father is an alcoholic right after he had lost his mother. That crack whore, he hated her yet craved her love. He was a mess, still is when his father had kneed him next to her cold body.

"It's all your fault!"

Jongin did not get it, he still doesn't.

His ribs are sponge and he feels vulnerable at his heart.

Sehun had figured by now.

"I'm a crazy grown man. I cry over mistakes and I can't even breathe properly. I can barely stop fidgeting without thinking that you'd be dead on the streets, getting run over by a skater or hit by a pot. I'm so tired of myself."

"I'm so tired, Sehun-"

"Do I make you feel better?"

Sehun's hand is warm on his face. The pads of his fingers brush over the shell of his ear and they scratch softly at the base of his head.

"Yes." Jongin murmurs.

"Move in with me."

The moment the doors to their car shuts Jongin exhales, "talk to me."

"Talk to you? Why don't you talk to me?" Sehun leans on the steering wheel after watching a teacher bring their child in from through the window.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"Stop apologising, Jongs." Sehun shakes his head in exasperation. "Stop it."

"Are you're tired? Of me?"

It's all different. The air in the car is heavy. Sehun allows the engine to run as he try to sort things out with Jongin.

Jongin is not Jongin anymore. He is no longer that nervous little worker, trembling at his thoughts and insecurities. He is a fucking drunk.

He is a fucking drunk just like his father.

"Jongin, where are you?" Sehun asks, his head spins. It could barely pinpoint where it hurts in his body. Everywhere feels numb. His eyes stings and he inhales, looking up.

Jongin exhales in relief as he make his way to the elevators to his home. Sehun had offered to helping him move and Jongin didn't know how to say, "it's alright I got everything under control" and had stuck with "uh, that'd be great."

It was until where they'd pull over at the car park where he insisted Sehun stay in the car while he went up to grab "a few things".

The door creaks open and it reeks of alcohol and damp bread. Jongin pull his shirt over his nose as he worm his way through the gap.

His father notices and curses are shot at him and Jongin quickly muffle them with the slam of his door.

"Why are you back?"

"Get the fuck out, good for nothing!"

He works fast, hands and feet moving accordingly to grab everything as fast as he possibly can. His mind roils for the list he'd made and his fingers fumble to get his clothing off their hangers, shoving them into a duffle bag.

Jongin doesn't look back after gathering his belongings and dashed for the door.

The television remote is thrown at his temple and he groans squeezing through the door. It cuts above his brow.

"Yes, go run and hide like you always do!"

The door shuts behind Jongin and he pants, tears are running down his cheeks. He shakes in his own arms, his shoes blurry in his vision.

Sehun is here. Sehun chose to push his line today by following him. And he'd seen enough to know why is Jongin always on his toes. So anxious about everything. He pulls him in his arms.

Sehun phones Jongin again. It is tempting to pick up. Jongin wants to hear his voice.

Sehun slaps Jongin at the dining table after he'd told Seul to go get her socks worn.

"You have the guts to ask how she got her head bruised," Sehun grits, "fucking drunk."

Sehun's never hit Jongin. He'd never raise let alone hit. It's breaks Jongin's heart too much.

"You fucking bruised her." He'd bite again.

Jongin is at the loss of words. He is an alcoholic. He hurt their daughter and he'd gotten slapped by the love of his life. He is falling from right where he wanted to stay. At his peak.

"Get yourself sober or get the fuck out of my house."

"Jongin, I'm so tired of dealing with vomit, of dragging your drunk ass home. I don't know why you are not talking. It's not as though I don't ask, I don't understand why you wouldn't talk. You used to talk, I coax you, you talk so well. Please don't go."

"I don't want to lose you, so don't wander off."

The thoughts, they don't subside not when Seul got knocked down by a running kid at the playground. Jongin panics. He springs from the bench, wanting to help her up on her feet but Sehun holds him.

"She is capable." Sehun mutters, tugging the clenched fist for Jongin to sit. "Don't worry, she will be okay."

It's eating Jongin alive. The urge to go, to help her, dust her palms and ask if she's okay and if she wants to go home. His belly is tight and he frowns with the thoughts. That little bit of darkness and uneasiness cripples in his veins.

Jongin is panting and the free hand reaches for the inhaler he hadn't touched often since Sehun stepped into his life.

"Look, she's okay." Sehun points out a soft proud daddy smile tugging at his lips. "Our big girl."

Jongin goes through the trouble to convince himself Sehun is right. She is okay. She is indeed okay and is at the ladder going for the slide.

She is okay. And so is Sehun.

Jongin decides he will try to stay sober. He will move out and change for their child and for Sehun.

Day two into his plan and he'd hit someone in the head with a plank.

Sehun is sitting nearby in front of a policeman's desk, trying to bail him out. His face full of sorrow and he'd look almost too old for his age. He is so frail and worn out it aches Jongin down his core. He feels sorry.

But like Sehun always say,

"You're not sorry enough to put me out of my misery."

Jongin is chewing onto his bottom lip as he wait for Sehun outside a florist. His hands are tucked deep into the pockets of his out wear, twirling onto his piece of inhaler as he breathes into his scarf.

In two minutes, he could see Sehun running toward him across the road and his heart races.

Jongin wasn't sure if it was racing because he's seeing Oh Sehun or if it was because the chances of him getting run over was at least a fourth.

His fingers begin drumming on the plastic and he bounce uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. His eyes are darting around and he knows Sehun will be okay but his muscles will not stop tensing and his eyes feel like they would pop out.

It felt as though Sehun had taken the time of his life to cross the road and Jongin was left there, tied to a chair and he wouldn't be able to do a thing if Sehun were to really get hit by a vehicle.

A heavy breath leaves his chest when Sehun comes up with all find and Jongin barely snap out of his mind.

"Hey."

Jongin blinks. "Hey."

"You okay? Is it too cold?" Sehun smiles through a slight frown.

"I'm good." A voice and Jongin's head tells him it's okay, Sehun is okay.

Jongin doesn't have anywhere to go. He sits with his lawyer, chin in his hand. His chest is heavy and only now he'd realise he had screwed his life.

He'd lost Sehun and their child.

"You can still visit them under supervision." His lawyer lists, "and as long as you stay sober for more than half the year, you get more,"

He turn to check on Jongin.

"Hey, if you upkeep for eight months you get to move back. You get to have them back."

It's over. Eight months sober or not. It had all come to an end the day Sehun decided to bring this matter to court.

Jongin returns home. The home he'd dread returning to where he found his mother dead and the reflection of himself in his father.

Two drunks under a roof.

Jongin locks himself up.

Seul asks Sehun when will daddy get better and each time Sehun would shrug his weighing shoulders, bitter tug on his lips. He would tell her, "It is up to daddy to decide, if he wants to or not."

And each time she would respond, "why would he not want to get better? Doesn't daddy want to stop hurting?"

Sehun asks himself that, wasn’t he the centre of his world? Why isn't Jongin trying?

Jongin is trying. He's been going to the social service centre to help the elderly as his lawyer had planned. He's stayed sober for a week and hasn't sobbed as his drunk father yells at him.

He's trying that six months into probation, he gets to see her with Sehun. She runs into his arms.

"Daddy!"

Sehun smiles. He misses this.

"Daddy, are you still hurting?" Her eyes are glittering with curiosity. "Did you see a doctor?"

"I did." Her cheek is chilly when he had brushed a thumb over it. "Wait a little bit, okay?"

She nods.

When the day comes, the day in the court where Jongin is given official approval of him moving back with his family, he decided he can't do this.

There he stood by their car. He squeeze at his inhaler.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can so this. Maybe we should stick with visits." Jongin negotiates.

He doesn't hurt less than Sehun. No.

Sehun stares at him. His lips part but they don't say a thing.

"I might slip back into the habit. I look okay, but my head is still a mess. I am that nervous useless dude you met years back except now I am worse. I don't think I am ready."

"He is drunk, old news," He breathes, fingers at his temples. "I miss you, and..."

"And?" He questions after a long pause.

"Good night, Sehun."

The bubble pops when Jongin hung up. He curls in bed with the echo of Sehun's voice sounding in his head. He should sleep better now.

"Daddy, I know you're not sick, but please get better."