idaho (iii)
pg, 1629
yunho / changmin
part 1 | 2
when yunho knocks and changmin doesn't answer, it’s not because he isn't there. changmin hasn't stepped out of their apartment for days, and with yunho always in the rooms outside, there aren't a lot of places left for him to go.
later in the afternoon when yunho stands at his door and asks what he wants for dinner, he does not reply. he wonders what yunho thinks he is doing inside. whiling a moment away in the bathroom, or fallen asleep on the bed? or perhaps just sitting cross legged on top of the bedsheets with his hands over his ears, resolutely blocking out everything from his hyung's mouth. the truth is, changmin hears everything. he sits with his back pressed against his room door with his legs drawn up in a triangle, knees touching at the top. he could hear the quiet thud from yunho’s fingers when they first make contact with the door, followed by the sharp triple rap of his knuckles as he knocks.
then yunho’s voice. ‘changminnie?’
changmin’s jaw clenches. he hates it when he’s called that, and he’s sure yunho knows it. all it brings to mind nowadays are the times when there used to be more than just the two of them, more than just him and yunho in this fucking apartment, more than yunho trying his hardest every single day to act as if they were making this work when they are so clearly not.
‘changmin.’ changmin notes the change in the way yunho calls his name, but doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of the words that come with it. a beat. he feels the door behind him give and tenses slightly, but then scoffs under his breath when he realises that that fraction of a centimetre was all yunho dared to push. but then he doesn’t hear the telltale sounds of yunho’s footsteps trailing away. was he still there? changmin refuses to sprawl on the floor just to steal a glance from under the door. he continues sitting, idly knocking his knees together as he waits. he pokes at his handphone screen, scrolling through the endless cycle of application screens it has to offer. every six swipes, he catches a glimpse of a clock and the time.
it surprises even him when he realises it takes yunho more than an hour to pad away and even more so, when the footsteps come back ten minutes later and fade off just as suddenly, followed by the abrupt sound of a door slamming shut.
changmin straightens with a start. shut?
did yunho just go out?
changmin waits ten, fifteen minutes. half an hour later and still no jangling of keys followed by the answering clicking of a door swinging open and then falling shut. he shoves his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants. he remembers the last time yunho had gone out like this. he avoids thinking about the similarities between the events preceding them, both times with yunho calling out for him and him simply ignoring them. it happened about two weeks ago, after he had walked into the living room to find yunho sitting curled up in the middle of it. his breath had hitched. there had a been a voice in his head screaming at him to run over and ask what was wrong,
but in reality changmin had not lifted a finger. he stood rooted to the spot, staring at the way yunho had folded himself up, wrapping his arms around his thighs and tucking his head behind his knees. it must have been an eternity before yunho finally lifted his head and turned to look straight at him. yunho had called his name (he was forever just calling his name) but this time there was a tremor in his voice that had changmin pinned. he didn’t move, didn’t go to yunho-- changmin didn’t do anything but walk away.
an hour later yunho had practically disappeared off the face of the planet. the memory alone makes changmin’s hands curl into fists: it had been an hour of disbelief that hardened into a kind of brittle rage that yunho would even do such a thing, before cracking into a seemingly endless night of helpless waiting until the idiot tried to creep back in unnoticed ten hours later.
‘he's gone and done it again,’ changmin hisses under his breath, voice rising with every inflection. he seizes the doorknob and flings the door open. his room is directly opposite yunho’s, the other door is open too and a look is enough to confirm there’s no one there. he turns to his right and is greeted by the sight of the equally empty kitchen and living room, and just misses biting the tip of his tongue in frustration.
the last time yunho pulled this stunt he had the nerve to say he only went out for ‘a walk’. yes, and changmin was born yesterday too, wasn’t he? there is a part of changmin that is loathe to admit that what truly worries him are the things he doesn’t know. yunho had stood by their apartment window spent the next few days after that excursion staring off into space even more so than usual, hands hanging loosely by his thighs. changmin pretended not to notice and of course he didn’t say anything, but goddammit he sees all of it anyway.
he’s already holding his phone, (for there are limits to how much changmin can convince even himself that he doesn’t care, no one but him knows how many times he had dialled yunho’s number that night -- the answer is 57 -- before he realised the idiot had left his phone at home and he deleted every single missed call log in bare-toothed fury) when he sees the lopsided yellow square stuck on his door.
changmin, i’m going to the supermarket. let me know if you need anything? :)
of course. of course. changmin gnashes his teeth together as he rips the silly grinning thing off the door. this was nothing new, yunho had gone on one of these completely unnecessary trips before. there was absolutely nothing for changmin to be worried about, much less feel guilty for.
‘he’s a grown man,’ mutters changmin under his breath, glaring at the ridiculous smiley face yunho had drawn on at the end of the note. ‘he can go and do whatever the hell he wants.’
suddenly the house phone rings. changmin starts, but then goes to answer. ‘hello?’
‘yunho? or is this changmin.’
some of the tension leaks out of changmin’s shoulders as he sighs. ‘heechul. it’s me. changmin.’
‘ya. do you know how many times i’ve dialed? what’s the point of having a phone if you don’t answer it?’ changmin makes no response. heechul continues, slightly more tenderly. ‘how are you doing?’
‘same old,’ changmin replies, tugging at the telephone’s spiral cord. ‘i feel like i haven’t been under sunlight in months--’
‘stop being so dramatic. kyu’s been complaining he hasn’t seen you in two weeks, and that’s only half a month. where’s your hyung? i want to speak to him.’
‘he’s not in. apparently he’s gone grocery shopping.’
‘seriously?’
changmin rolls his eyes. ‘don’t sound so shocked, hyung, it’s not as if he hasn’t done this kind of thing before.’
‘that is true. i’ll call his cell. thanks minnie,’ heechul adds, almost gleefully, hanging up before changmin can snap at him over the line.
changmin places the phone back into its receiver a little more forcefully than he needs to, before fishing his own phone out of his pocket.
‘hello, kyuhyun?’ he takes a breath. ‘let’s meet up.’
, ,
‘i am not angry,’ changmin mutters, staring at the rim of his glass. across him, kyuhyun snorts.
‘how long did you say it’s been since you’ve spoken to him? a week? a month?’ kyuhyun pauses and taps a fingernail against the side of changmin’s glass. ‘are you going to drink that?’
‘yes,’ changmin glares, pulling his drink back towards him. the two of them are sitting in a bar. cliched as hell, but it’s one of the quietest places changmin can find and god knows how much he needs a drink. not that he’s even drinking much of it, he thinks to himself, as he runs a finger along the length of the glass ‘we’ve been sitting around just doing nothing for weeks and i just thought-- i thought he would have done more.’
kyuhyun only puts his drink down and laces his fingers underneath his jaw.
‘i expected him to do more.’ changmin can feel his voice rising. ‘manager-hyung doesn’t want us to go out, doesn’t want us to do anything. i was okay with it for the first two weeks but it’s been nearly half a year. he’s the leader, he has a responsibility, but he does next to fucking nothing--’
‘what does he do, then?’
‘he just sits there! he doesn’t shave or comb his hair or wear anything other than his stupid old dance clothes.’ changmin takes a gulp and then slams his glass on the wooden countertop. it lands harder than he expected. kyuhyun waits for him to continue. ‘and when he’s not idling he acts as if everything’s alright, like nothing has changed, as if this we just took holiday leave or somethin--’
‘well, technically you guys are on leave--’
‘what? do you think i want this?’ changmin realises he’s nearly shouting. ‘do you think i enjoy it?’ his hands are shaking.
kyuhyun doesn’t even look down. there is a glint in his eyes.
‘are you going to hit me?’
changmin is the one who drops his gaze. ‘no,’ he whispers hoarsely, pulling at the wrist of his sweater. ‘no, i’m not.
yunho / changmin
part 1 | 2
when yunho knocks and changmin doesn't answer, it’s not because he isn't there. changmin hasn't stepped out of their apartment for days, and with yunho always in the rooms outside, there aren't a lot of places left for him to go.
later in the afternoon when yunho stands at his door and asks what he wants for dinner, he does not reply. he wonders what yunho thinks he is doing inside. whiling a moment away in the bathroom, or fallen asleep on the bed? or perhaps just sitting cross legged on top of the bedsheets with his hands over his ears, resolutely blocking out everything from his hyung's mouth. the truth is, changmin hears everything. he sits with his back pressed against his room door with his legs drawn up in a triangle, knees touching at the top. he could hear the quiet thud from yunho’s fingers when they first make contact with the door, followed by the sharp triple rap of his knuckles as he knocks.
then yunho’s voice. ‘changminnie?’
changmin’s jaw clenches. he hates it when he’s called that, and he’s sure yunho knows it. all it brings to mind nowadays are the times when there used to be more than just the two of them, more than just him and yunho in this fucking apartment, more than yunho trying his hardest every single day to act as if they were making this work when they are so clearly not.
‘changmin.’ changmin notes the change in the way yunho calls his name, but doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of the words that come with it. a beat. he feels the door behind him give and tenses slightly, but then scoffs under his breath when he realises that that fraction of a centimetre was all yunho dared to push. but then he doesn’t hear the telltale sounds of yunho’s footsteps trailing away. was he still there? changmin refuses to sprawl on the floor just to steal a glance from under the door. he continues sitting, idly knocking his knees together as he waits. he pokes at his handphone screen, scrolling through the endless cycle of application screens it has to offer. every six swipes, he catches a glimpse of a clock and the time.
it surprises even him when he realises it takes yunho more than an hour to pad away and even more so, when the footsteps come back ten minutes later and fade off just as suddenly, followed by the abrupt sound of a door slamming shut.
changmin straightens with a start. shut?
did yunho just go out?
changmin waits ten, fifteen minutes. half an hour later and still no jangling of keys followed by the answering clicking of a door swinging open and then falling shut. he shoves his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants. he remembers the last time yunho had gone out like this. he avoids thinking about the similarities between the events preceding them, both times with yunho calling out for him and him simply ignoring them. it happened about two weeks ago, after he had walked into the living room to find yunho sitting curled up in the middle of it. his breath had hitched. there had a been a voice in his head screaming at him to run over and ask what was wrong,
but in reality changmin had not lifted a finger. he stood rooted to the spot, staring at the way yunho had folded himself up, wrapping his arms around his thighs and tucking his head behind his knees. it must have been an eternity before yunho finally lifted his head and turned to look straight at him. yunho had called his name (he was forever just calling his name) but this time there was a tremor in his voice that had changmin pinned. he didn’t move, didn’t go to yunho-- changmin didn’t do anything but walk away.
an hour later yunho had practically disappeared off the face of the planet. the memory alone makes changmin’s hands curl into fists: it had been an hour of disbelief that hardened into a kind of brittle rage that yunho would even do such a thing, before cracking into a seemingly endless night of helpless waiting until the idiot tried to creep back in unnoticed ten hours later.
‘he's gone and done it again,’ changmin hisses under his breath, voice rising with every inflection. he seizes the doorknob and flings the door open. his room is directly opposite yunho’s, the other door is open too and a look is enough to confirm there’s no one there. he turns to his right and is greeted by the sight of the equally empty kitchen and living room, and just misses biting the tip of his tongue in frustration.
the last time yunho pulled this stunt he had the nerve to say he only went out for ‘a walk’. yes, and changmin was born yesterday too, wasn’t he? there is a part of changmin that is loathe to admit that what truly worries him are the things he doesn’t know. yunho had stood by their apartment window spent the next few days after that excursion staring off into space even more so than usual, hands hanging loosely by his thighs. changmin pretended not to notice and of course he didn’t say anything, but goddammit he sees all of it anyway.
he’s already holding his phone, (for there are limits to how much changmin can convince even himself that he doesn’t care, no one but him knows how many times he had dialled yunho’s number that night -- the answer is 57 -- before he realised the idiot had left his phone at home and he deleted every single missed call log in bare-toothed fury) when he sees the lopsided yellow square stuck on his door.
changmin, i’m going to the supermarket. let me know if you need anything? :)
of course. of course. changmin gnashes his teeth together as he rips the silly grinning thing off the door. this was nothing new, yunho had gone on one of these completely unnecessary trips before. there was absolutely nothing for changmin to be worried about, much less feel guilty for.
‘he’s a grown man,’ mutters changmin under his breath, glaring at the ridiculous smiley face yunho had drawn on at the end of the note. ‘he can go and do whatever the hell he wants.’
suddenly the house phone rings. changmin starts, but then goes to answer. ‘hello?’
‘yunho? or is this changmin.’
some of the tension leaks out of changmin’s shoulders as he sighs. ‘heechul. it’s me. changmin.’
‘ya. do you know how many times i’ve dialed? what’s the point of having a phone if you don’t answer it?’ changmin makes no response. heechul continues, slightly more tenderly. ‘how are you doing?’
‘same old,’ changmin replies, tugging at the telephone’s spiral cord. ‘i feel like i haven’t been under sunlight in months--’
‘stop being so dramatic. kyu’s been complaining he hasn’t seen you in two weeks, and that’s only half a month. where’s your hyung? i want to speak to him.’
‘he’s not in. apparently he’s gone grocery shopping.’
‘seriously?’
changmin rolls his eyes. ‘don’t sound so shocked, hyung, it’s not as if he hasn’t done this kind of thing before.’
‘that is true. i’ll call his cell. thanks minnie,’ heechul adds, almost gleefully, hanging up before changmin can snap at him over the line.
changmin places the phone back into its receiver a little more forcefully than he needs to, before fishing his own phone out of his pocket.
‘hello, kyuhyun?’ he takes a breath. ‘let’s meet up.’
, ,
‘i am not angry,’ changmin mutters, staring at the rim of his glass. across him, kyuhyun snorts.
‘how long did you say it’s been since you’ve spoken to him? a week? a month?’ kyuhyun pauses and taps a fingernail against the side of changmin’s glass. ‘are you going to drink that?’
‘yes,’ changmin glares, pulling his drink back towards him. the two of them are sitting in a bar. cliched as hell, but it’s one of the quietest places changmin can find and god knows how much he needs a drink. not that he’s even drinking much of it, he thinks to himself, as he runs a finger along the length of the glass ‘we’ve been sitting around just doing nothing for weeks and i just thought-- i thought he would have done more.’
kyuhyun only puts his drink down and laces his fingers underneath his jaw.
‘i expected him to do more.’ changmin can feel his voice rising. ‘manager-hyung doesn’t want us to go out, doesn’t want us to do anything. i was okay with it for the first two weeks but it’s been nearly half a year. he’s the leader, he has a responsibility, but he does next to fucking nothing--’
‘what does he do, then?’
‘he just sits there! he doesn’t shave or comb his hair or wear anything other than his stupid old dance clothes.’ changmin takes a gulp and then slams his glass on the wooden countertop. it lands harder than he expected. kyuhyun waits for him to continue. ‘and when he’s not idling he acts as if everything’s alright, like nothing has changed, as if this we just took holiday leave or somethin--’
‘well, technically you guys are on leave--’
‘what? do you think i want this?’ changmin realises he’s nearly shouting. ‘do you think i enjoy it?’ his hands are shaking.
kyuhyun doesn’t even look down. there is a glint in his eyes.
‘are you going to hit me?’
changmin is the one who drops his gaze. ‘no,’ he whispers hoarsely, pulling at the wrist of his sweater. ‘no, i’m not.