my destiny
An unexpected turn of events will weave the threads of their destinies together again.
Pairings: slight Yoosu, slight Yunjae, OT5
Rated: PG-13 for drama, angst
~
Junsu hates the smell of subways.
As a child, he'd always been afraid of small dark spaces, and while he'd grown out of that fear as he aged, he still doesn't think any rational being would like subway stations, with their foul odors and litter everywhere and the grating sound of trains rushing by.
He tugs the zipper of his hoodie upwards as he scrutinizes the old sputtering ticket machine, carefully selecting his destination and waiting for his ticket to shoot out from the slot. As always, he finds himself wishing Yoochun were with him, not because he doesn't understand the language here-seven years in a foreign country does wonders to one's language capacity, he hadn't just learned that-but because he yearns for a familiar face.
No, but Yoochun is too busy back home in Korea being a full-time songwriter, requests coming in to his agent much faster than he can handle. He's too busy even to return calls and emails from a man who was once his best friend and-
Junsu still isn't ready to stop denying any more than that to himself.
He goes slowly down to the platform, not in any particular hurry to get home to his small East End apartment since he's officially on hiatus from his Broadway career right now. The advertisements tacked onto the tunnel wall facing him flutter as the train pulls in with a roar, and he steps into the brightly-lit compartment, empty but for a teenage boy curled up on the hard plastic bench, sleeping.
Junsu sits down across from the boy and scrutinizes him, the intercom babbling out the names of the passing stations in his ear. The boy looks like he can't be more than twelve or thirteen years old, with shaggy black hair and dangling earrings in the shape of silver crosses. Junsu frowns to himself. Why does something about the boy strike him as immensely familiar?
The boy is clutching a brown leather satchel, plain with a faux gold clasp. Junsu gently tugs the bag away, thinking to put it under the boy's head so he can sleep more comfortably. But as the strap slips from the boy's fingers, he jerks awake, a fist nearly catching Junsu in the stomach.
"What are you doing?" the boy snaps, looking painfully young as he clutches the bag closer to himself. Junsu is startled to realize that the boy speaks perfect Korean.
"Sorry," Junsu apologizes quickly. "I was going to put it under your head so you could sleep more comfortably."
He sees a quick flash of gratitude in those large dark eyes, but the boy turns away from him to stare out into the darkness beyond the window.
There's a short silence as Junsu looks up at the map over the boy's head, noting that he's two stops away from his destination. "Um, excuse me," he says, a little shyly, "do you have a place to stay?"
He almost thinks the boy won't answer, but he does, his tone much less confrontational. "No, sir."
"Would you like to stay with me for now?" Junsu volunteers slowly.
"That's all right, sir," the boy tells him without looking at him. "I don't want to be a burden."
Junsu laughs a little. "You won't be. I," he pauses, "I'm actually a bit lonely living by myself. Not even a cat to keep me company," he jokes.
The boy is startled into a small smile, his full lips turning upwards at the corners as his dimples appear. "Okay then, sir."
"I'm Junsu, by the way," the older man adds.
"I'm Suchun," the boy tells him, and Junsu feels his stomach flip before he shoves away the feelings rising inside him. You're ridiculous, he tells himself.
He stands as the train pulls into his station, offering his hand to Suchun. "This is my stop."
The boy takes his hand, and Junsu feels a small smile spread across his face at the way Suchun's delicate fingers curl trustingly around his larger hand, the ring on Suchun's right ring finger cool on his skin. They trudge up the stairs and out onto the street, Junsu pulling his hood over his head out of instinct. Too many bad experiences with overly passionate fans over the course of his long performance career have ingrained in him the need for privacy at any and all times. Admittedly, the American fanbase is much more subdued than Korea's, but Junsu would still rather be safe than sorry.
Junsu ends up carrying Suchun when the boy grows tired, fumbling to open his apartment door while balancing the sleeping boy on his knee. After a second's hesitation, he lays Suchun down on his bed, making a bed on the couch for himself with the spare blankets.
He's awoken the next morning by soft pattering footsteps and a delicate finger poking softly at his cheek. "Sir," Suchun says timidly, "Your brother's at the door."
"Huh?" Junsu manages groggily.
"Your brother's here to see you," Suchun repeats.
Oh, Junsu thinks, that's right, Junho was supposed to come over today. He rolls out of bed, washing his face as he goes through the kitchen on his way to the door. "Good morning, Junho hyung."
"I didn't know you had a son," Junho quips as he walks in.
Junsu scowls at the back of his head. "He's not mine," he informs Junho, still slightly snappish from being woken. "He doesn't even look like me."
Junho just shrugs, making himself comfortable in Junsu's apartment. "Changmin sends his regards," he says, abruptly changing the subject. "Says he misses being in a group. There's no one else now to take the attention off of him."
Junsu winces at the reminder. He hates that that Junho has to pass messages between him and someone he'd once treated like a brother, but he tells himself that no matter how much they try, their golden days are over. "What about you?" he asks, trying to distract both of them. "How's your career, hyung?"
"Same as usual," Junho answers noncommittally. "Songs are selling, promotions going well, fangirls still screaming..."
Junsu surprises himself with a chuckle. "Now you know how popularity feels."
"Touché."
They catch each other up on the news-some distant cousin's gotten married, another one's divorced, Yoochun's been spotted on vacation by a fan in South America, and the likes.
"Oh yeah," Junho tosses back over his shoulder as he leaves. "Mom says you should come home soon."
Junsu stares after him.
Suchun comes out of the kitchen, munching on some crackers he'd found. "Sir, what's our plan for today?"
Junsu looks at him and almost laughs. "I don't know. Did you have something in mind?"
"Not really," Suchun admits.
"Well," Junsu says, heading back into his apartment, "we could sit here and you could tell me exactly what you're doing in New York without any knowledge of English."
Suchun grins sheepishly, wiping crumbs from his mouth as he follows Junsu back to the living room. "Not sure actually," he says, fingering the clasp of his bag. "My dad gave me an airplane ticket and I just...took it."
Junsu frowns, taking the ticket that Suchun pulls out of his bag. "Why would your dad just put you on a plane to somewhere you don't belong?" he murmurs, more to himself than to Suchun.
Suchun pretends to rifle through his bag in order to not look at Junsu's face. "My dad is dying," he whispers.
Junsu swallows uncomfortably. "I'm so sorry."
Suchun shrugs, closing his bag again. "I'm supposed to find some people," he tells Junsu softly. "For my dad. He says he wants them by his side when he...when he dies."
Junsu blinks. Well, this was unexpected. "Where's your mom, then?"
"She left us a long time ago," Suchun admits. "I never found out why, but my dad told me over and over that she had every reason to leave and that I shouldn't hate her."
Junsu doesn't know what to say. "Then..." he says, slowly, "who are you even supposed to be finding?"
"I don't actually even know," Suchun says, sounding just the slightest bit frustrated. "My dad just said...there are four people who will approach me because of my face, and those are the four he's waiting for."
Junsu looks at Suchun again, inspecting the slender face still rounded by a bit of baby fat. "I don't know you, or your father," he admits, "but I only noticed you on the subway because your face looked familiar. Does that make me...one of the four?"
Suchun looks sideways back at Junsu. "I suppose it's a start."
Junsu flips the torn ticket between his fingers, thinking. "Well, first things first, you're going shopping," he decides. "You need some more clothes if you're going to be staying with me for a while."
Their shopping spree takes surprisingly little time, Suchun proving to be quite unlike most boys his age and perfectly willing to try on whatever clothes catch his eye. Junsu wonders if he'll become a model when he grows up. He's definitely got the face and build for it, and he's a quick learner and the furthest thing from a complainer Junsu's ever met.
They return to the apartment an hour later, each laden with a bag. Suchun sorts through the clothes quickly, packing them neatly in the old suitcase Junsu's found for him. "Are we going somewhere, sir?" he asks, noticing that Junsu's packing as well.
"Yeah," Junsu says, though he looks like he's not quite sure himself. "I guess...we might as well head back to Korea. I really don't think anyone else here is going to recognize you and I," he takes a deep breath, "I have some people I need to talk to back home."
"Okay," Suchun agrees readily, and doesn't pry further, for which Junsu is eternally grateful.
He books the next flight he can get back to Korea, price be damned-he gets a suffocating sense of urgency, as though if he and Suchun don't make it back fast enough there will be hell to pay.
Fortunately the old villa he used to live in, still legally under his name, is uninhabited by tenants for the time being and Junsu feels an overwhelming sense of comfort just from being back in familiar surroundings. Suchun settles in nicely, though not without looking around at his surroundings with awe.
"Do you want to stay here by yourself for now?" Junsu asks hesitantly. "I'm going to visit my parents and then," he swallows, "to talk to an old...friend."
Suchun looks at him, considering. "Come back after you visit your parents," he decides, flipping his hair over his shoulder. "I get the feeling you want company when you're going to visit your...friend."
As usual, Suchun is right, Junsu decides, staring nervously at what he supposes is Yoochun's front door. He'd found the address on a fan's blog and prays that it's the right one.
The house is a small quaint thing, quite unlike the villa Yoochun used to own. Junsu takes a deep breath and knocks, and to his surprise, Yoochun opens the door at the third knock.
They stare each other down for much too long, before Yoochun manages to find his tongue. "Junsu...yah."
Junsu swallows, taking Suchun by the hand again. "Can we come in?" He gestures to both himself and the boy next to him.
Yoochun looks down at the boy and immediately does a double take. "Um, yeah, of course," he says, still staring at Suchun as Junsu enters his house.
The house is just as messy as Junsu expects, looking around with a small fond smile. There are sheets of music strewn everywhere and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. "You look like you need a housekeeper," he remarks, half-teasing.
"Are you volunteering yourself?" Yoochun replies, like he used to.
Junsu wants to respond, but he realizes, with a shock, that he doesn't know how to anymore.
An awkward silence falls, broken by Suchun accidentally knocking a picture frame off the shelf. "Sorry," he mumbles, cheeks stained red as he bends over to retrieve it. "'m kind of clumsy."
"It's okay," Yoochun assures him gently, seemingly mesmerized again by his face. "What exactly is that boy doing tagging along with you?" he asks Junsu softly once Suchun's attention is focused on other things.
"I met him on the subway going home the other night," Junsu tells him. "For some reason he looked familiar so I offered him a place to stay, and ended up finding out that his dad is dying and that he's been sent on a mission to find four people to bring to his dad's deathbed."
Yoochun's mouth is slightly open in shock when Junsu finishes talking. He looks as though he wants to ask Junsu something else, but instead gets up from his chair and approaches Suchun carefully. "Suchun, can I ask you something?"
Suchun turns, scrutinizing Yoochun with those large dark eyes. "Okay."
Yoochun hesitates, biting his full lower lip in a way that makes Junsu think about the night they first kissed, both of them shy and unsure and needing a not-so-subtle push from Yunho and Jaejoong to even think about confessing to each other. Lost in his memories, he almost misses the question Yoochun asks. "Suchun, do you have a middle name?"
"Yes," Suchun answers, confused. "It's...it's Minho."
Yoochun nods, Suchun's words seeming to have answered an unasked question of his, and returns to the table where Junsu is sitting.
"What was that all about?" Junsu asks.
"I..." Yoochun hesitates, and Junsu hates it hates it hates it. "Nothing. What are you doing here, exactly?"
Junsu stares at the table. "I don't...know." He glances up furtively, snatching his gaze away when he realizes that Yoochun's still looking at him. "I just...I felt like I needed to talk to you again."
Yoochun is silent.
Junsu feels strangled by the silence. "I guess I just wanted to ask you some things," he says, quickly enough that he doesn't have time to cut himself off.
"What kinds of things?"
"A lot of things," Junsu snaps, feeling a growing sense of frustration at Yoochun's holding back. "Like why we're sitting here talking like strangers when we used to not even need words to communicate. Why we haven't talked for seven years. Why-" He falls silent, choking on his own words. Why we gave up on each other.
Yoochun finally smiles, though it's small and doesn't take the pain away from his eyes. "I remember those days," he whispers. "We really thought it would work out, didn't we?"
"Why didn't it?" Junsu challenges. "What happened to us? We're not Yunho and Jaejoong, we had the chance to stay together for the rest of our lives."
"That's exactly the problem."
"What is?" Junsu asks, confused.
"We're not Yunho and Jaejoong," Yoochun echoes. "They were meant for each other completely in every way. We were just two kids trying to grow up too fast and trying too much to be like our hyung-deul."
Junsu reaches out on impulse and takes a firm hold of Yoochun's chin, forcing the older man to look at him. "We're not children anymore. We don't have to follow in other people's footsteps if we choose not to. And I," he swallows, looking Yoochun directly in the eyes, "I'm choosing to give this another chance."
Yoochun tries to move away, but Junsu holds him firmly. "Junsu yah," he says finally, gently, bringing a hand up to remove Junsu's hand from his chin. "I want to try again, believe me. But," he covers Junsu's mouth when the other man tries to say something, "I want you to give me a little time to think about this. Okay?" He smiles, sweet and bright like he used to, and squeezes Junsu's hand gently, sending warmth washing over both of them.
Junsu closes his eyes and tries to pretend, just for a moment, that they'd never left each other's side.
Yoochun chuckles, and as a natural response Junsu feels his lips twitching into a smile. "Junsu yah, have you talked to our baby recently?"
Junsu shakes his head. "Why?"
"He might be interested in the boy," Yoochun says simply.
"Well, of course," Junsu says, feeling stupid. "Know where I can find him?"
"You could probably ask the sasaengs," Yoochun points out, trying to crack a joke. "Though chances are, he's probably in Japan right now. He's pretty popular over there, you know."
Junsu sighs. "Do you ever wonder how we all could have turned out if we'd never set foot in Japan?"
Yoochun shrugs. "I don't like to think about it."
It's getting late and Junsu decides to retrieve Suchun from where he's wandered off to the bedroom, staring at Yoochun's photo album. They thank Yoochun for his hospitality, to which Yoochun just smiles gently at Suchun and gives Junsu a quick peck on the cheek, before they head back to Junsu's house.
Junsu's awoken at a quite ungodly hour the next morning by a teenage lump on his stomach. "Sir, there's some creepy guy standing outside your door asking to see you," Suchun's voice says, muffled into Junsu's shoulder.
The man groans. I am never going to have children if all of them behave like this, he grumbles to himself, sitting up in bed and prying Suchun off of him. "Who is it?"
"Dunno," Suchun says, following him to the door. "Really tall, and," he frowns, "kinda looks like me. A little."
Junsu stops suddenly, and Suchun bumps into him from behind. "Sorry, sir," he mumbles, but Junsu's not listening. Please tell me it isn't who I think it is, he prays as he unfreezes himself and opens the door. His prayers, as usual, go unanswered.
Changmin is standing on the porch, silhouetted by the stars that still haven't set and the first tendrils of the rising sun. "Good morning, Junsu sshi," he says, his tone clipped, striding into Junsu's house like the last seven, eight, nine years never happened. "Please explain to me who exactly that boy is."
Junsu blinks at his-their-maknae, more than a little thrown off by the formality of Changmin's words. "Suchun," he pauses to flail about mentally, "why don't you go back to sleep?"
Suchun looks between Junsu and Changmin's retreating back and thankfully retreats to the guest bedroom, and Junsu goes into the kitchen to confront Changmin.
Who, Junsu notes without surprise, is peering into the refrigerator with interest.
"Yah, maknae, what are you even doing here?"
Changmin shuts the refrigerator door, leaning casually against the counter that partially separates the eating area from the stove and sink. "Some fan of yours informed the Internet that you'd gone back to Korea, so I figured you'd be here. Also, Yoochun called me last night," he adds quietly, as if he didn't quite mean for Junsu to hear that.
"Well, it's nice to know you aren't seriously stalking me, but what I actually meant was why you're here. Thought you had a no-contact policy enforced for the past nine years," Junsu can't help but add, feeling a sort of vindictive satisfaction at the way Changmin winces.
"I'm sorry about that, I really am," Changmin pleads, still looking young and innocent in the dim light of the stars. "I thought it was for the best, since we'd gone our separate ways and it wasn't really an option that we'd ever be together again."
"Even if we weren't together in the music industry we still could've been friends," Junsu tells him softly, no longer meaning to hurt him. "Making memories together instead of music."
"I'm sorry," Changmin whispers again, his entire body slumping. "I'd already convinced you that I didn't want anything to do with you and I let my pride get in the way of what I really wanted."
Junsu sees a glitter of tears in his eyes, and on impulse, before he even realizes what he's doing, he finds himself embracing Changmin. Their maknae falls willingly into the touch.
They stay like that for a few minutes, before Changmin pulls away. "Don't you dare ever tell the others about this," he says, half-smiling, and Junsu has to laugh at the way they've already fallen back into their easy familiarity.
"I might have to," he teases back, before he turns serious again. "Now, you were asking about the boy?"
"Yeah."
"His name is Suchun Minho," Junsu starts.
"Last name?" Changmin interrupts.
"I...actually don't know," Junsu admits sheepishly. "He didn't tell me and he booked his own plane ticket without showing me his passport. His dad's dying and he needs to find four people to bring to his dad's deathbed."
Changmin pales. "Junsu...yah, who...is his dad?"
Junsu gives him a strange look. "I don't know. Why?"
Changmin shakes himself, and rolls his eyes. "Junsu yah, I am perfectly aware that you're incredibly dense," he says, ignoring Junsu's noise of protest, "but please tell me you know who that boy's father is."
Junsu shakes his head. "I don't. Should I?"
Instead of answering him, Changmin pulls out his phone, flicking his fingers across the screen and typing something with a quick clatter of the keys before he shows Junsu the picture he's pulled up on the screen.
The young man in the shot is strikingly beautiful, with a wide bright smile and dimples that can just barely be seen. Strands of his shaggy black hair, overdue for a haircut, are whipping across his face in the wind coming off the ocean. His earrings, in the shape of silver crosses, glitter in the sunlight that he's shading his large dark eyes from. His face is slender, still rounded by a bit of baby fat that Junsu knows he'll lose over the next several years.
He glances up at the caption that Changmin's labeled the picture with, even though he doesn't need to. Jaejoong, Incheon, 25 July 2004.
"How did I not realize," Junsu whispers in shock, but as the words leave his mouth he knows why. It's been much too long-he'd forgotten what Jaejoong looks like.
It's testament to how serious the situation is that Changmin doesn't even grace him with a snarky remark. "We need to talk to Yunho hyung," he says firmly, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
"Do you know where we can find him?"
"We kept in touch all these years," Changmin tells him, implication heavy in his words. Junsu chooses to ignore the subtle jab.
"We'll go pick up Yoochunnie tomorrow morning and pay Yunho hyung a visit then?"
Changmin nods his agreement, heading for the guest bedroom to talk to Suchun.
They find that Suchun is fairly willing to follow along with whatever is asked of him, and Junsu is just grateful that he doesn't have to worry about a teenage tantrum while steeling himself just to walk up to Yunho's front door. Yoochun's arm sneaks around his waist when Changmin's looking the other way and Junsu grins at Yoochun, worries briefly alleviated. Suchun wisely hides himself behind Yoochun and Junsu before Yunho opens the door, eyes widening when he sees them.
"Hyung, can we come in?" Changmin asks sweetly, distracting Yunho.
"Yes, yes, of course," Yunho says, still gaping for a moment before he turns away and leads them to his kitchen, nudging a few children's toys out of the way with his foot.
"You...have children?" Yoochun asks, his voice sounding strange.
"Twins," Changmin tells him. "Five years old and a nightmare."
"They're staying at their mother's house this weekend," Yunho says without turning around, in a tone that allows no further questions. Suchun frowns.
It's not until they all sit down at the table that Yunho finally notices Suchun's presence. He takes half a step towards Suchun, opening and then closing his mouth, before he finally bites out, "Get that boy out of my house."
Suchun jerks back, looking as if he's been slapped across the face.
"Hyung," Changmin reprimands Yunho sternly.
Yoochun pats Suchun's cheek in comfort, leaning down to murmur into his ear. "Don't take it personally," he says, quietly enough that only Junsu, sitting on Suchun's other side, can hear. "It's because of your father."
Suchun exhales shakily, stealing a glance at Yunho, who's taken his seat again, his head in his hands. "Why are you here?" Yunho whispers finally, raising his head to look directly at Suchun.
"My dad is dying," Suchun answers solemnly.
Yunho closes his eyes again, trying to hide the tears that everyone's already seen. Suchun swallows, twisting his ring off his finger and reaching across the table to lay it in front of Yunho. Shakily, Yunho reaches under his shirt and takes out the thin chain he wears around his neck, slipping his own ring off of it and laying it next to Suchun's.
They match perfectly, the two halves of the promise ring exchanged in 2006.
"My dad wants to see you," Suchun murmurs.
Suchun takes them to the hospital, a brief hushed scuffle ensuing as they each attempt not to be the one who has to walk up to the front desk. Eventually Junsu is forced to go up to the receptionist and ask to see Kim Jaejoong.
The girl looks at all of them, her expression bored, but with pity in her eyes. She leaves her seat for a moment and hails a passing nurse, giving the older woman whispered instructions. The nurse looks all of them up and down and sighs, leading them down a silent hallway. Junsu can't help but notice that there seem to be no visitors here.
He wonders if this wing is where they keep the terminally ill patients.
The nurse opens the door at the end of the hall, smiling tiredly at the room's occupant. "Jaejoong sshi, you have visitors."
Yunho shudders when Jaejoong answers, his voice weak and dull. "Let them in."
Changmin reaches down and grips Yunho's hand tightly; whether it's to comfort Yunho or himself, Junsu's not quite sure.
Jaejoong is lying propped up by the pillows, his eyes closed, his face drawn and much too pale, his beautiful locks of hair gone from chemo. Junsu can't see any trace of the brilliant young singer who had destroyed himself to follow his dreams.
Yoochun approaches the bed, slowly, trying to say something but no sound comes out. He clears his throat and tries again. "Jaejoongie hyung."
Jaejoong's eyes fly open. "Yoochunnie," he gasps out, his eyes searching all of their faces. "Changminnie, Junsu yah..." He falters, meeting Yunho's gaze. "Yunho yah," he murmurs finally, reaching out hesitantly.
Yunho half-staggers towards the bed as if he's sleepwalking, collapsing onto the chair next to the bed and clutching at Jaejoong's hand as he finally stops holding back the tears. "Jaejoongie," he chokes out. "My Jaejoongie...why didn't you tell us?"
Jaejoong caresses his hand, hazel eyes never leaving Yunho's face. "I didn't want you to remember me like this."
Yunho bites his lip and slumps forward, trying to hold Jaejoong infinitely close.
Jaejoong looks up at the rest of them, whose eyes are suspiciously bright. "How did you find me?"
Junsu frowns in confusion. "Your son, he..." He trails off, noticing that Suchun's disappeared. "He was just with us, wasn't he?" he asks the others.
Jaejoong looks at him strangely. "Junsu yah, I don't have a son."
"Oh," Changmin says into the ensuing silence. "Oh."
He was an angel, Junsu thinks but doesn't say.
"He looked just like you," Yoochun tells him with a small smile. "During that banjun drama we filmed, do you remember that?"
Jaejoong smiles, a tired quirk of the lips. "I could never forget," he murmurs, looking lovingly at Yunho as he reaches out to brush a few strands of hair off of Yunho's forehead. Junsu catches the glitter of the ring on Jaejoong's right ring finger, the other half of the ring that hangs on the chain around Yunho's neck.
Changmin shifts on his feet, drawing their attention. "Jaejoong...umma," he says, and there's a collective gasp in the room that dies away at his next words. "The boy...told us you were dying."
Junsu silently thanks God that Changmin has the strength to ask what the rest of them won't.
"I guess so," Jaejoong murmurs, and Yoochun shudders, making as if to speak, but Jaejoong cuts him off. "It was more from a broken heart than anything else though."
"Overdramatic as usual," Yunho mutters with a sniffle.
Yoochun pounces onto the bed, taking care not to get tangled in the wires hooked up to the beeping machines or to land on Jaejoong. "Will you be okay now, then?"
Jaejoong grins briefly at him, and Junsu thinks he sees a flash of the man who'd sworn never to leave his family. "I hope so, Yoochunnie. I have a reason to live now, don't I?"
"You always had a reason to live, pabo," Changmin says, not bothering to keep his voice down.
Jaejoong arches an eyebrow. "What did you call me?"
"Hyung~" Changmin singsongs sweetly, and even Yunho laughs.
"Hey," Junsu says, poking Yoochun's side indignantly. "Move over, I wanna sit too."
Yoochun squirms carefully against Jaejoong and somehow manages to make room for Junsu, while Changmin is smarter and pulls up another chair.
"Hey guys?" Jaejoong says, playing with Yunho's fingers.
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
And Junsu swears he sees a flash of black hair and dimples out of the corner of his eye as the weight is finally lifted from his shoulders.