wish that you could only see it
wish that you could only see it
yoochun/changmin, yunho/changmin, ot5
pg-13
it's not undead. it's unliving.
think mirotic. think I Am Legend without hollywood's tampering. think, okay, this isn't really that lame. dies.
---
Jaejoong remembers a lot of things.
Cooking for hours in the warmth of a home for and with his family. Walking barefoot on damp grass in the small park two blocks behind his house, mindful to be quiet but letting his laughter mingle with Yunho’s as they talk about nothing.
Looking up and seeing stars.
The look of normality on his favourite sister’s face as she took a slow, dripping bite out of their mother’s neck.
He also remembers the dusk he spent fretting over Yunho’s whereabouts as the Sun sank below the edge of the city, and the first time he had met Changmin, ready and willing to die, tear tracks on his face and unresponsive in Yunho’s arms.
---
Yunho remembers the things that are important to him.
Not so much about his life before. From those days, the clearest memories are of him and his buddies watching cheesy zombie movies from across the Pacific in terrible dubs and the irony of it all when his buddies turned or died.
He remembers being appointed leader out of the small handful of people in their safehouse. Going out to look for food and water when the Sun was bright and strong and being the one that people relied on, looked up to, respected. It didn’t matter that circumstances were less than fortunate; you played the hand you’re dealt, otherwise, you lose by default.
The weight of Jaejoong’s head on his shoulder as they fall into an uneasy sleep for the first time, already becoming accustomed to the sound of distant screaming and noises too close from outside.
He remembers heading back to Jaejoong a little later than comfortable one day and finding someone sitting in the middle of an abandoned road. He remembers Changmin’s eyes, watching the Sun go down on the world again with indifference, as if hoping, as he closes his eyes, to never wake again and see sunshine.
---
Changmin remembers more than he wants to.
The terror he had felt when he had woken up to a noise in the night to find his sisters, still too young, clawing and tearing at each other, blood on the walls and the furniture and the mug his mother loved to use, his mom, lying on the floor with her arms and legs bent at wrong angles like a Lego toy. How ridiculous it all felt, because sure, it was all over the news, but the news doesn’t apply to normal people. Tragedy and freak circumstance don’t affect you; it only happens to others. All he did was go to school, study, hang out sometimes with his friends, and visit home when he got tired of dorm food.
It all became irrelevant the first time Yunho had grabbed his hand, and with a smile, saved him like he was supposed to all along.
He remembers how uncomfortable he had been to be the one that everyone liked to tease when he first came, even though and maybe because there wasn’t much to laugh about anymore, about being the one their fearless leader always had a soft spot for, always made time for. So what if Yunho was always nicer to him. So what if Jaejoong laughed every time he blushed at the mention of Yunho showering naked and convenient and conveniently naked in the small bathroom on the second floor. So what if he eventually took pride in knowing that, yeah, Yunho did like him a lot, and yeah, tease away, because it’ll still be true.
The night Yunho kissed him for the first time, the first thought he had was holy shit I didn’t brush my teeth this morning I hope my breath doesn’t smell bad under the small lamp in his--their--corner of the room. Yunho’s fingers laced with his halfway through the second kiss and he knew, with suddenly clarity, that none of what happened mattered to him anymore.
He had lost everything. But in a way, he’s glad that he did. Now, now. Yunho is his everything, now.
He remembers being led to the roof at noon and the sky had been too blue, the Sun too bright, and everything dulling to grayscale in comparison to the shy smile on Yunho’s face as he led Changmin to the most comfortable blanket they owned, spread out on a patch of overgrown grass. They had a picnic and looked out together far, far away, over a dead city, sitting with their shoulders touching.
They made love for the first time, bathed in warmth, and he remembers all of it and holds it to himself like he does every time they made love.
He remembers writing the sound of Yunho’s heart and eyes and smile into his skin and breath and fingertips so everything he touched could hold a piece of his own heart in it.
He remembers the first time they learned of the undead evolving. There was still light out and it had looked so normal-wide, carefree smile, golden hair, a glow in its eyes nobody noticed except Yunho.
Jaejoong hadn’t let him smear Yunho’s blood into his mouth and the cut on his arm that day. And the day after, though they had all hoped otherwise, Yunho’s body was no longer there. Hunted to hunter, beloved to feared.
He still remembers how he never did get to say I love you more than everything out loud.
---
Yoochun remembers in fragments.
He remembers taking taekwondo and showing off to Yoohwan about all his moves, then calling Junsu over and doing the same. Charming the ladies with English he isn’t even sure is right but nobody ever questioned it. Kicking his own mother in the face and sprinting out of the grocery store with Yoohwan in tow, never to look back, locking them inside their house so she can never again try to take him away.
The first time Changmin showed up on his doorstep a little past one in the afternoon with two others, eyes lifeless, shoulders slouched forward in defeat.
Jaejoong, he had said. Jaejoong told me to come here. Said you were safe.
And where is Jaejoong now?
Yoochun still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know where his soulmate is, just like with-
“Yoochun!” Changmin nearly screams from downstairs and Yoochun bolts out of his room, memories scattering again like the ripped sheets of music on his bedroom floor, almost tripping and killing himself running down the stairs.
“What!” he calls, eyes wide in alarm, looking Changmin up and down for injury. “Are you okay? What happened? Where’s Hyunjoong?”
Changmin doesn’t answer for a long time. Yoochun’s stomach sinks and though he wants nothing more than to walk away, he can’t bring himself to, not when all the others have collected around them now, faces closed with anxiety.
“What, Changmin-ah, what happened?” he tries again, quiet.
“...It’s airborne.”
---
They collect as many resources from outside as they can. Yoochun watches as twelve dwindles to nine to seven to six to three and then he loses Yoohwan on their way back home from the hospital. It’s too dangerous because it’s airborne but Changmin’s sure he can find a vaccine if not a cure because if it’s airborne, it’s a disease, and they have to believe that it’s a disease that can be prevented. They have to collect everything they need for Changmin to work, because even if they have no one else, they still have each other.
That night, Changmin keeps apologizing as Yoochun holds him in bed like he did before when Changmin used to have nightmares in memory of someone else, and tries to kiss his tears away.
“What, not going to call me a crybaby?” Yoochun asks, trying for a smile.
“I’m sorry, Yoochun-ah. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t do that.”
“I’ll save us. I’ll save you.” The conviction in Changmin’s voice is almost painful to hear. His eyes are far away and Yoochun wonders again if Changmin’s remembering another life, another love; if he needs to save someone he no longer can. “I’ll save you, Yoochun, I promise I will.”
Yoochun says nothing and kisses Changmin on the lips, slowly presses him into the mattress. Lets the other man hold him close and gently stroke his cheek. They make love and Changmin no longer whispers for a stranger named Yunho and Yoochun no longer thinks of a boy he’s loved with a smile brighter than sunshine.
---
On Saturday evening, just as Yoochun’s starting to worry about food, Changmin comes out of the basement with a vial in his hands and an empty smile on his lips.
“...Changmin?” Yoochun says eventually, unsure of what else to say.
“It’s done.”
Yoochun sucks in a breath and holds it. Lets it out through his teeth. “You mean...?”
“Yeah, it’s done. This is it.”
“So...”
“Yoochun-ah?” Changmin says. “I’m going to drink it first, and I’m going to go outside. Lock the door and don’t let me in, alright? This should turn me for a few hours and after, I should be immune. Only open the door for me tomorrow and the Sun’s out if...when I come back, okay?”
Yoochun can feel tears gather at the corners of his eyes. The house is cold enough as it is and with Changmin’s words, he’s going to be alone tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that if things don’t go well.
Changmin reaches forward and grasps Yoochun’s hand in his own, desperate, tight, so frightened he can’t breathe right. “Yoochun-ah, play me the piano before I go?”
So Yoochun does. He brushes the dust off the piano keys and sits with Changmin pressed against his left and plays a song that no longer has a voice to go with it, a song his fingers know better than he does. He quits before halfway to kiss Changmin with all that he has left and whispers I love you, come back to me, I love you.
---
Junsu doesn’t remember how things used to be at all.
He tries sometimes, but nothing ever comes to mind; white noise, nothing more. But sometimes, he dreams of piano melodies and lush lips mouthing words to him and it’s always warm, and he wakes with a dull ache in his chest every time. He wants to remember who it was, is.
“Junsu-yah.”
“Hm?”
“Are you spacing out again?” Yunho laughs, bopping him on the head.
He remembers biting Yunho all those months ago. The older man had awoken in a very, very bad mood, and Junsu is somehow sure it had to do with the man Jaejoong had dragged away fighting and screaming for Yunho to wake up, just wake up, blood all over his hands. Junsu’s never asked but he can tell by the way Yunho looks out the window sometimes, when it’s a particularly nice day, that it was someone important.
“Guys, quit dawdling!” Jaejoong huffs from the doorway, hands on his hips. “We know exactly where they are, so get a move on!”
He remembers watching as a group of people left the small safehouse in the middle of the day, Jaejoong ushering Yunho’s important someone far, far away. And watching as Jaejoong walked into the danger of secret shadows and hidden corners with a smile on his face and head tilted back, opening his arms as Yunho walked to him and embraced him. Best friends in life, best friends in unlife.
“Come on!” the eldest whines, “let’s goooo! I miss Changminnie and my favourite person and they’re right in that house~”
“I thought I was your favourite person,” Yunho says, feigning hurt.
“Oh shut up, we all know I’m his favourite person,” Junsu sighs. “I’m the one getting groped all day.”
“Lies! You mean you’re the one doing all the groping!” Jaejoong cries in outrage, hands going to his butt as if to protect it. “My ass feels like a pin-cushion and whose fault is-”
“Guys,” Yunho interrupts. His eyes are opened wide in shock, body leaning towards the window, fingertips on the glass. “...He...walked out.”
Jaejoong’s out the door in seconds.
---
Changmin sees Jaejoong run into his line of vision and stop to wave at him. It’s strangely comforting, how characteristic and silly it is, and then he sees golden hair and a familiar smile he can no longer bring himself to hate.
And then Yunho joins them in a line of three, standing in the edge of a shadow of a building, looking at him with soft, questioning eyes.
Changmin opens the vial in his hands and drinks the contents in two gulps.
He’s the one that walks forwards first. Into a warm hug, a handshake, a kiss he’d be glad to drown in.
He sees Yunho’s eyes glow a dim blue and someone bites him and it doesn’t matter.
---
One minute after midnight, when Yoochun’s cried and cried until his head hurts and tears no longer come out even when he tries, someone knocks on the front door. He stares at the doorknob for a while, thinking it over, until he hears someone call for him.
“Yoochun-ah?”
Changmin’s voice is quiet, calm, at peace in a way Yoochun’s only ever heard in those moments when Changmin’s more asleep than awake, curled into his side in bed.
“Yoochun, open the door?”
“Changmin,” he says, voice cracking from tears, “do you want me to open the door?”
“Yes, Yoochun, please.” He hears a brush against the wood as if Changmin’s sliding his hand down the door to touch him through it. “I want you to open it for me.”
When he does, Changmin’s standing there, looking just as wonderful, just as normal as he remembered, if not more so. There’s a purple-blue bruise on the curve between shoulder and neck that, if he hadn’t known better, would’ve been mistaken for a love bite.
But maybe in ways, that’s exactly what it is.
“See?” Changmin says, smiling, fingers finding Yoochun’s and pulling him close, “I came back for you.”
“So what was in the vial?” Yoochun asks, nose pressed to Changmin’s cheek, shivering at the strange warmth radiating from the other man’s skin.
“Diluted whiskey,” Changmin kisses into his lips with a smile, eyes glowing.
---
“Hi,” Junsu says, slowly, uncertainly, as Changmin comes back, hands linked with a familiar stranger.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Yunho says. Yoochun looks horrified as the older man bows to him while simultaneously reaching for Changmin and flushes, waving his hands around and smacking Jaejoong in the face by accident.
“So, everyone,” Jaejoong smiles, “my favourite person,” and hugs Yoochun. “See?” he says to Changmin, “I told you he was safe.”
“I...” Junsu interrupts, pulling Yoochun away from the rest of them, “I know you.”
Yoochun smiles, eyes crinkling and dimples showing. “Yeah, you do.” When Junsu doesn’t say anything else, he gestures to the house, gently taking Junsu’s wrist with his hand. “Come on, let me play something for you.”
On their way to the house, Yoochun stops to look up, and doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he’s seen so many stars, shimmering and flashing against endless dark.
“So, being undead, huhn?” he breathes.
“Actually,” Junsu laughs, “we prefer the term Unliving.”
“Unliving,” Yoochun repeats. He looks down to an easy smile, wide and brighter than any stars he could look at, a boy he chose, will always choose over sunshine. Junsu’s more brilliant.
Funny, how things always seem to come full circle.
He looks back to see Jaejoong trying to hug Changmin again and Yunho stubbornly hogging the youngest to himself. Then Junsu’s tugging on his hand in impatience and Yoochun forgets about everything else; he just wants to hear Junsu’s voice again.
He’s never felt so alive.
---
Wiser - Halou
yoochun/changmin, yunho/changmin, ot5
pg-13
it's not undead. it's unliving.
think mirotic. think I Am Legend without hollywood's tampering. think, okay, this isn't really that lame. dies.
---
Jaejoong remembers a lot of things.
Cooking for hours in the warmth of a home for and with his family. Walking barefoot on damp grass in the small park two blocks behind his house, mindful to be quiet but letting his laughter mingle with Yunho’s as they talk about nothing.
Looking up and seeing stars.
The look of normality on his favourite sister’s face as she took a slow, dripping bite out of their mother’s neck.
He also remembers the dusk he spent fretting over Yunho’s whereabouts as the Sun sank below the edge of the city, and the first time he had met Changmin, ready and willing to die, tear tracks on his face and unresponsive in Yunho’s arms.
---
Yunho remembers the things that are important to him.
Not so much about his life before. From those days, the clearest memories are of him and his buddies watching cheesy zombie movies from across the Pacific in terrible dubs and the irony of it all when his buddies turned or died.
He remembers being appointed leader out of the small handful of people in their safehouse. Going out to look for food and water when the Sun was bright and strong and being the one that people relied on, looked up to, respected. It didn’t matter that circumstances were less than fortunate; you played the hand you’re dealt, otherwise, you lose by default.
The weight of Jaejoong’s head on his shoulder as they fall into an uneasy sleep for the first time, already becoming accustomed to the sound of distant screaming and noises too close from outside.
He remembers heading back to Jaejoong a little later than comfortable one day and finding someone sitting in the middle of an abandoned road. He remembers Changmin’s eyes, watching the Sun go down on the world again with indifference, as if hoping, as he closes his eyes, to never wake again and see sunshine.
---
Changmin remembers more than he wants to.
The terror he had felt when he had woken up to a noise in the night to find his sisters, still too young, clawing and tearing at each other, blood on the walls and the furniture and the mug his mother loved to use, his mom, lying on the floor with her arms and legs bent at wrong angles like a Lego toy. How ridiculous it all felt, because sure, it was all over the news, but the news doesn’t apply to normal people. Tragedy and freak circumstance don’t affect you; it only happens to others. All he did was go to school, study, hang out sometimes with his friends, and visit home when he got tired of dorm food.
It all became irrelevant the first time Yunho had grabbed his hand, and with a smile, saved him like he was supposed to all along.
He remembers how uncomfortable he had been to be the one that everyone liked to tease when he first came, even though and maybe because there wasn’t much to laugh about anymore, about being the one their fearless leader always had a soft spot for, always made time for. So what if Yunho was always nicer to him. So what if Jaejoong laughed every time he blushed at the mention of Yunho showering naked and convenient and conveniently naked in the small bathroom on the second floor. So what if he eventually took pride in knowing that, yeah, Yunho did like him a lot, and yeah, tease away, because it’ll still be true.
The night Yunho kissed him for the first time, the first thought he had was holy shit I didn’t brush my teeth this morning I hope my breath doesn’t smell bad under the small lamp in his--their--corner of the room. Yunho’s fingers laced with his halfway through the second kiss and he knew, with suddenly clarity, that none of what happened mattered to him anymore.
He had lost everything. But in a way, he’s glad that he did. Now, now. Yunho is his everything, now.
He remembers being led to the roof at noon and the sky had been too blue, the Sun too bright, and everything dulling to grayscale in comparison to the shy smile on Yunho’s face as he led Changmin to the most comfortable blanket they owned, spread out on a patch of overgrown grass. They had a picnic and looked out together far, far away, over a dead city, sitting with their shoulders touching.
They made love for the first time, bathed in warmth, and he remembers all of it and holds it to himself like he does every time they made love.
He remembers writing the sound of Yunho’s heart and eyes and smile into his skin and breath and fingertips so everything he touched could hold a piece of his own heart in it.
He remembers the first time they learned of the undead evolving. There was still light out and it had looked so normal-wide, carefree smile, golden hair, a glow in its eyes nobody noticed except Yunho.
Jaejoong hadn’t let him smear Yunho’s blood into his mouth and the cut on his arm that day. And the day after, though they had all hoped otherwise, Yunho’s body was no longer there. Hunted to hunter, beloved to feared.
He still remembers how he never did get to say I love you more than everything out loud.
---
Yoochun remembers in fragments.
He remembers taking taekwondo and showing off to Yoohwan about all his moves, then calling Junsu over and doing the same. Charming the ladies with English he isn’t even sure is right but nobody ever questioned it. Kicking his own mother in the face and sprinting out of the grocery store with Yoohwan in tow, never to look back, locking them inside their house so she can never again try to take him away.
The first time Changmin showed up on his doorstep a little past one in the afternoon with two others, eyes lifeless, shoulders slouched forward in defeat.
Jaejoong, he had said. Jaejoong told me to come here. Said you were safe.
And where is Jaejoong now?
Yoochun still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know where his soulmate is, just like with-
“Yoochun!” Changmin nearly screams from downstairs and Yoochun bolts out of his room, memories scattering again like the ripped sheets of music on his bedroom floor, almost tripping and killing himself running down the stairs.
“What!” he calls, eyes wide in alarm, looking Changmin up and down for injury. “Are you okay? What happened? Where’s Hyunjoong?”
Changmin doesn’t answer for a long time. Yoochun’s stomach sinks and though he wants nothing more than to walk away, he can’t bring himself to, not when all the others have collected around them now, faces closed with anxiety.
“What, Changmin-ah, what happened?” he tries again, quiet.
“...It’s airborne.”
---
They collect as many resources from outside as they can. Yoochun watches as twelve dwindles to nine to seven to six to three and then he loses Yoohwan on their way back home from the hospital. It’s too dangerous because it’s airborne but Changmin’s sure he can find a vaccine if not a cure because if it’s airborne, it’s a disease, and they have to believe that it’s a disease that can be prevented. They have to collect everything they need for Changmin to work, because even if they have no one else, they still have each other.
That night, Changmin keeps apologizing as Yoochun holds him in bed like he did before when Changmin used to have nightmares in memory of someone else, and tries to kiss his tears away.
“What, not going to call me a crybaby?” Yoochun asks, trying for a smile.
“I’m sorry, Yoochun-ah. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t do that.”
“I’ll save us. I’ll save you.” The conviction in Changmin’s voice is almost painful to hear. His eyes are far away and Yoochun wonders again if Changmin’s remembering another life, another love; if he needs to save someone he no longer can. “I’ll save you, Yoochun, I promise I will.”
Yoochun says nothing and kisses Changmin on the lips, slowly presses him into the mattress. Lets the other man hold him close and gently stroke his cheek. They make love and Changmin no longer whispers for a stranger named Yunho and Yoochun no longer thinks of a boy he’s loved with a smile brighter than sunshine.
---
On Saturday evening, just as Yoochun’s starting to worry about food, Changmin comes out of the basement with a vial in his hands and an empty smile on his lips.
“...Changmin?” Yoochun says eventually, unsure of what else to say.
“It’s done.”
Yoochun sucks in a breath and holds it. Lets it out through his teeth. “You mean...?”
“Yeah, it’s done. This is it.”
“So...”
“Yoochun-ah?” Changmin says. “I’m going to drink it first, and I’m going to go outside. Lock the door and don’t let me in, alright? This should turn me for a few hours and after, I should be immune. Only open the door for me tomorrow and the Sun’s out if...when I come back, okay?”
Yoochun can feel tears gather at the corners of his eyes. The house is cold enough as it is and with Changmin’s words, he’s going to be alone tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that if things don’t go well.
Changmin reaches forward and grasps Yoochun’s hand in his own, desperate, tight, so frightened he can’t breathe right. “Yoochun-ah, play me the piano before I go?”
So Yoochun does. He brushes the dust off the piano keys and sits with Changmin pressed against his left and plays a song that no longer has a voice to go with it, a song his fingers know better than he does. He quits before halfway to kiss Changmin with all that he has left and whispers I love you, come back to me, I love you.
---
Junsu doesn’t remember how things used to be at all.
He tries sometimes, but nothing ever comes to mind; white noise, nothing more. But sometimes, he dreams of piano melodies and lush lips mouthing words to him and it’s always warm, and he wakes with a dull ache in his chest every time. He wants to remember who it was, is.
“Junsu-yah.”
“Hm?”
“Are you spacing out again?” Yunho laughs, bopping him on the head.
He remembers biting Yunho all those months ago. The older man had awoken in a very, very bad mood, and Junsu is somehow sure it had to do with the man Jaejoong had dragged away fighting and screaming for Yunho to wake up, just wake up, blood all over his hands. Junsu’s never asked but he can tell by the way Yunho looks out the window sometimes, when it’s a particularly nice day, that it was someone important.
“Guys, quit dawdling!” Jaejoong huffs from the doorway, hands on his hips. “We know exactly where they are, so get a move on!”
He remembers watching as a group of people left the small safehouse in the middle of the day, Jaejoong ushering Yunho’s important someone far, far away. And watching as Jaejoong walked into the danger of secret shadows and hidden corners with a smile on his face and head tilted back, opening his arms as Yunho walked to him and embraced him. Best friends in life, best friends in unlife.
“Come on!” the eldest whines, “let’s goooo! I miss Changminnie and my favourite person and they’re right in that house~”
“I thought I was your favourite person,” Yunho says, feigning hurt.
“Oh shut up, we all know I’m his favourite person,” Junsu sighs. “I’m the one getting groped all day.”
“Lies! You mean you’re the one doing all the groping!” Jaejoong cries in outrage, hands going to his butt as if to protect it. “My ass feels like a pin-cushion and whose fault is-”
“Guys,” Yunho interrupts. His eyes are opened wide in shock, body leaning towards the window, fingertips on the glass. “...He...walked out.”
Jaejoong’s out the door in seconds.
---
Changmin sees Jaejoong run into his line of vision and stop to wave at him. It’s strangely comforting, how characteristic and silly it is, and then he sees golden hair and a familiar smile he can no longer bring himself to hate.
And then Yunho joins them in a line of three, standing in the edge of a shadow of a building, looking at him with soft, questioning eyes.
Changmin opens the vial in his hands and drinks the contents in two gulps.
He’s the one that walks forwards first. Into a warm hug, a handshake, a kiss he’d be glad to drown in.
He sees Yunho’s eyes glow a dim blue and someone bites him and it doesn’t matter.
---
One minute after midnight, when Yoochun’s cried and cried until his head hurts and tears no longer come out even when he tries, someone knocks on the front door. He stares at the doorknob for a while, thinking it over, until he hears someone call for him.
“Yoochun-ah?”
Changmin’s voice is quiet, calm, at peace in a way Yoochun’s only ever heard in those moments when Changmin’s more asleep than awake, curled into his side in bed.
“Yoochun, open the door?”
“Changmin,” he says, voice cracking from tears, “do you want me to open the door?”
“Yes, Yoochun, please.” He hears a brush against the wood as if Changmin’s sliding his hand down the door to touch him through it. “I want you to open it for me.”
When he does, Changmin’s standing there, looking just as wonderful, just as normal as he remembered, if not more so. There’s a purple-blue bruise on the curve between shoulder and neck that, if he hadn’t known better, would’ve been mistaken for a love bite.
But maybe in ways, that’s exactly what it is.
“See?” Changmin says, smiling, fingers finding Yoochun’s and pulling him close, “I came back for you.”
“So what was in the vial?” Yoochun asks, nose pressed to Changmin’s cheek, shivering at the strange warmth radiating from the other man’s skin.
“Diluted whiskey,” Changmin kisses into his lips with a smile, eyes glowing.
---
“Hi,” Junsu says, slowly, uncertainly, as Changmin comes back, hands linked with a familiar stranger.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Yunho says. Yoochun looks horrified as the older man bows to him while simultaneously reaching for Changmin and flushes, waving his hands around and smacking Jaejoong in the face by accident.
“So, everyone,” Jaejoong smiles, “my favourite person,” and hugs Yoochun. “See?” he says to Changmin, “I told you he was safe.”
“I...” Junsu interrupts, pulling Yoochun away from the rest of them, “I know you.”
Yoochun smiles, eyes crinkling and dimples showing. “Yeah, you do.” When Junsu doesn’t say anything else, he gestures to the house, gently taking Junsu’s wrist with his hand. “Come on, let me play something for you.”
On their way to the house, Yoochun stops to look up, and doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he’s seen so many stars, shimmering and flashing against endless dark.
“So, being undead, huhn?” he breathes.
“Actually,” Junsu laughs, “we prefer the term Unliving.”
“Unliving,” Yoochun repeats. He looks down to an easy smile, wide and brighter than any stars he could look at, a boy he chose, will always choose over sunshine. Junsu’s more brilliant.
Funny, how things always seem to come full circle.
He looks back to see Jaejoong trying to hug Changmin again and Yunho stubbornly hogging the youngest to himself. Then Junsu’s tugging on his hand in impatience and Yoochun forgets about everything else; he just wants to hear Junsu’s voice again.
He’s never felt so alive.
---
Wiser - Halou