(006) Headquarters - Changmin/Junsu
Headquarters
Changmin/Junsu. 1310 words. Changmin has a neighbor whose name escapes him. Fate decides to remind Changmin of the name through the play place nearby. (for kpopvalentines / soundtrack)
There's a sandpit Changmin goes to when he's feeling down and low, when average test scores earn more than a roll of the eyes or the slow shake of the head from his parents. It's something he discovered years back, when he got sent to the principal's office for the first time for a crime he didn't even commit.
He's twelve and it sounds really stupid, but only the feel of sand between his toes comforts him these days.
"Um, sorry, can I play here?"
The foreign voice sends Changmin bolting from his position and back to his feet. His fists are balled, arms held in front of his chest in defense, but the stretch of his body only speaks of fatigue and defeat especially when he stutters in his words. "W-who are you?"
"Your neighbor. I bet you didn't know that. I barely get out of the house."
Changmin takes a deep breath. "You can't play here. This is my sandpit."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
There's a playful smile on the boy's lips as he settles on the empty space between Changmin and the edge of the pit. Changmin only yells, "Hey!" in protest, doesn't put much effort into making the other boy leave to look for another sandpit to invade. He doesn't know why he lets the boy stay. He doesn't even know how and why the boy's presence offers another form of relief.
But he lets him. He just lets him.
The boy is named Kim Junsu, and he's a year older than Changmin. It doesn't really show - not in the way he laughs and smiles, nor in the way he talks and dresses. Beside Junsu, Changmin looks at least two years older, disgruntled and generally jaded with life. It's as if he's been robbed of Christmas since the day he was born.
"They're not that bad," Junsu says as he studies the fine lines on Changmin's forehead. "Just small lines, nothing too serious."
"My mom says I was born with a worried look," Changmin replies, curt and flat. "It disturbs me."
Junsu grins and eases out the creases on Changmin's forehead with his fingers, rubbing circles as he hums a song under his breath. Changmin holds his breath at the first touch but doesn't let it show, doesn't let Junsu hear the mantra in his head that says, Stop, stop, stop doing that because it makes my head hurt and it rubs me off the wrong way and- He presses his lips against each other and breathes out when Junsu chuckles, even before the voice inside of him can say, Please, make him stop.
Changmin has other friends, but none of them are like Junsu.
Junsu is the type of person who'd get all excited at the smallest of things. Tell him about the sunrise and you'll have his attention throughout the day. Show him the latest N64 game and he'd be bouncing at the balls of his feet for the next few minutes. Trip him over as he makes his way to the slide and he'll be laughing about it instead of complaining about the whole thing.
"He sounds lame," Yoochun mumbles.
Changmin gives him a stern smile.
"I said he sounds adorable. Did you hear something else? Sheesh." Yoochun trails off as he shakes his head. "We see each other for the first time in weeks and the you demand a good reception from me on a person you met in a sandpit. Really??"
"We've been neighbors for a few years already. We just keep missing each other."
"That's what you get for being an anti-social."
The stiff smile on Changmin's lips grows wider. "I'm really, really touched."
"What did you even see in him?" Yoochun slowly lays flat on the sand, wriggling his toes as he shifts in his position. "I thought you had better judgment when it came to picking friends. Although I still don't like Yunho. He sounds a lot like my grandma."
Yoochun is Changmin's best friend, and for a good reason - he is honest and knows how to pierce through the many layers of Changmin's defenses without causing colossal damage. He's Junsu without the sunshine, replaced by moonlight and stars. And telescopes for great scrutiny.
"I don't know."
Changmin stretches his legs, slowly sinking into the sand, and he can feel the weight of Yoochun stare at the back of his head. "I'll figure it out eventually," he says, voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for Yoochun to hear. "Just give me time."
Yoochun doesn't say anything, simply nods slowly and lets his lips curve up in a smile that Changmin knows speaks volumes about the way Yoochun has just made everything clear to him. Changmin grabs a fistful of sand, clenches his fist until he can feel the sand no more and feels the throb of his pulse growing stronger by the minute.
"You need to stop coming to this sandpit."
The chuckle that slips from Junsu's lips is the kind of knee-jerk reaction that Changmin hates receiving. "I mean, you just invited yourself here in the first place," he rushes and then, after a while, "I can throw you out anytime."
"You own this?" Junsu gestures, tracing as much of the expanse of the sandpit as he can with his hands.
Changmin rolls his eyes. "Well, I've been playing in it since I was five, and no one else has been coming here since you came, so yes. I own this." He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I own the whole thing."
Junsu bursts out in laughter like he's bursting into song. It's the first time Changmin has seen Junsu like this, eyes slitted, breathing ragged, cheek bones drawn to an insane height that Changmin feels that smile might just rip through Junsu's face anytime. "You're weird," Changmin hears Junsu says after a while. "I like you." And it's enough to elicit the same knee-jerk reaction that he hates so much - a chuckle, laughter choked halfway through his throat, and a weird smile stretching the contours of his face in all the wrong ways.
"Everyone, this is Junsu. Junsu, this is everyone."
Yunho's quick to smile brightly and offer Junsu cookies, and Jaejoong just lounges on the couch, eyeing Junsu from head to toe as he taps a capped pen on his lips.
"What are your intentions towards our friend?" Junsu hasn't even taken a seat yet. Changmin throws a pillow in Jaejoong's general direction, and Jaejoong simply deflects it with a wave of the hand. "No, seriously, what are your intentions?"
"I just want to be friends with him." Junsu gulps down hard. Changmin takes a deep breath. "That's all. I guess."
Yoochun emerges from Changmin's kitchen with two bags of popcorn and an offer to bail Junsu out of Jaejoong's standard way of 'screening' people. Changmin thanks him profusely by offering coffee instead of soda or Jaejoong's favorite orange juice, to which Jaejoong raises an eyebrow and yells, "Favoritism!" Junsu laughs, and when he does he laughs hard enough that Jaejoong finds himself laughing along, and there are tears rolling down Yunho's cheeks as he clutches his stomach hard.
Changmin sinks into his seat and Yoochun puts an arm around him. He knows what Yoochun means by that slow and careful nod, that You'd better be good for him. You'd better be is a weird euphemism for How the hell did you even find this kid and can we please keep him? There's a weird feeling in his chest and he feels as if he'll burst anytime, so he laughs and laughs until he runs out of air and they're all wheezing, asking each other, Why are we even laughing?
He doesn't even bother to think why.
Changmin/Junsu. 1310 words. Changmin has a neighbor whose name escapes him. Fate decides to remind Changmin of the name through the play place nearby. (for kpopvalentines / soundtrack)
There's a sandpit Changmin goes to when he's feeling down and low, when average test scores earn more than a roll of the eyes or the slow shake of the head from his parents. It's something he discovered years back, when he got sent to the principal's office for the first time for a crime he didn't even commit.
He's twelve and it sounds really stupid, but only the feel of sand between his toes comforts him these days.
"Um, sorry, can I play here?"
The foreign voice sends Changmin bolting from his position and back to his feet. His fists are balled, arms held in front of his chest in defense, but the stretch of his body only speaks of fatigue and defeat especially when he stutters in his words. "W-who are you?"
"Your neighbor. I bet you didn't know that. I barely get out of the house."
Changmin takes a deep breath. "You can't play here. This is my sandpit."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
There's a playful smile on the boy's lips as he settles on the empty space between Changmin and the edge of the pit. Changmin only yells, "Hey!" in protest, doesn't put much effort into making the other boy leave to look for another sandpit to invade. He doesn't know why he lets the boy stay. He doesn't even know how and why the boy's presence offers another form of relief.
But he lets him. He just lets him.
The boy is named Kim Junsu, and he's a year older than Changmin. It doesn't really show - not in the way he laughs and smiles, nor in the way he talks and dresses. Beside Junsu, Changmin looks at least two years older, disgruntled and generally jaded with life. It's as if he's been robbed of Christmas since the day he was born.
"They're not that bad," Junsu says as he studies the fine lines on Changmin's forehead. "Just small lines, nothing too serious."
"My mom says I was born with a worried look," Changmin replies, curt and flat. "It disturbs me."
Junsu grins and eases out the creases on Changmin's forehead with his fingers, rubbing circles as he hums a song under his breath. Changmin holds his breath at the first touch but doesn't let it show, doesn't let Junsu hear the mantra in his head that says, Stop, stop, stop doing that because it makes my head hurt and it rubs me off the wrong way and- He presses his lips against each other and breathes out when Junsu chuckles, even before the voice inside of him can say, Please, make him stop.
Changmin has other friends, but none of them are like Junsu.
Junsu is the type of person who'd get all excited at the smallest of things. Tell him about the sunrise and you'll have his attention throughout the day. Show him the latest N64 game and he'd be bouncing at the balls of his feet for the next few minutes. Trip him over as he makes his way to the slide and he'll be laughing about it instead of complaining about the whole thing.
"He sounds lame," Yoochun mumbles.
Changmin gives him a stern smile.
"I said he sounds adorable. Did you hear something else? Sheesh." Yoochun trails off as he shakes his head. "We see each other for the first time in weeks and the you demand a good reception from me on a person you met in a sandpit. Really??"
"We've been neighbors for a few years already. We just keep missing each other."
"That's what you get for being an anti-social."
The stiff smile on Changmin's lips grows wider. "I'm really, really touched."
"What did you even see in him?" Yoochun slowly lays flat on the sand, wriggling his toes as he shifts in his position. "I thought you had better judgment when it came to picking friends. Although I still don't like Yunho. He sounds a lot like my grandma."
Yoochun is Changmin's best friend, and for a good reason - he is honest and knows how to pierce through the many layers of Changmin's defenses without causing colossal damage. He's Junsu without the sunshine, replaced by moonlight and stars. And telescopes for great scrutiny.
"I don't know."
Changmin stretches his legs, slowly sinking into the sand, and he can feel the weight of Yoochun stare at the back of his head. "I'll figure it out eventually," he says, voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for Yoochun to hear. "Just give me time."
Yoochun doesn't say anything, simply nods slowly and lets his lips curve up in a smile that Changmin knows speaks volumes about the way Yoochun has just made everything clear to him. Changmin grabs a fistful of sand, clenches his fist until he can feel the sand no more and feels the throb of his pulse growing stronger by the minute.
"You need to stop coming to this sandpit."
The chuckle that slips from Junsu's lips is the kind of knee-jerk reaction that Changmin hates receiving. "I mean, you just invited yourself here in the first place," he rushes and then, after a while, "I can throw you out anytime."
"You own this?" Junsu gestures, tracing as much of the expanse of the sandpit as he can with his hands.
Changmin rolls his eyes. "Well, I've been playing in it since I was five, and no one else has been coming here since you came, so yes. I own this." He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I own the whole thing."
Junsu bursts out in laughter like he's bursting into song. It's the first time Changmin has seen Junsu like this, eyes slitted, breathing ragged, cheek bones drawn to an insane height that Changmin feels that smile might just rip through Junsu's face anytime. "You're weird," Changmin hears Junsu says after a while. "I like you." And it's enough to elicit the same knee-jerk reaction that he hates so much - a chuckle, laughter choked halfway through his throat, and a weird smile stretching the contours of his face in all the wrong ways.
"Everyone, this is Junsu. Junsu, this is everyone."
Yunho's quick to smile brightly and offer Junsu cookies, and Jaejoong just lounges on the couch, eyeing Junsu from head to toe as he taps a capped pen on his lips.
"What are your intentions towards our friend?" Junsu hasn't even taken a seat yet. Changmin throws a pillow in Jaejoong's general direction, and Jaejoong simply deflects it with a wave of the hand. "No, seriously, what are your intentions?"
"I just want to be friends with him." Junsu gulps down hard. Changmin takes a deep breath. "That's all. I guess."
Yoochun emerges from Changmin's kitchen with two bags of popcorn and an offer to bail Junsu out of Jaejoong's standard way of 'screening' people. Changmin thanks him profusely by offering coffee instead of soda or Jaejoong's favorite orange juice, to which Jaejoong raises an eyebrow and yells, "Favoritism!" Junsu laughs, and when he does he laughs hard enough that Jaejoong finds himself laughing along, and there are tears rolling down Yunho's cheeks as he clutches his stomach hard.
Changmin sinks into his seat and Yoochun puts an arm around him. He knows what Yoochun means by that slow and careful nod, that You'd better be good for him. You'd better be is a weird euphemism for How the hell did you even find this kid and can we please keep him? There's a weird feeling in his chest and he feels as if he'll burst anytime, so he laughs and laughs until he runs out of air and they're all wheezing, asking each other, Why are we even laughing?
He doesn't even bother to think why.