Lights
Pairings: YooSu
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: boyxboy, no like no read.
A/N: This is for Hachi because she likes YooSu and I had a random burst of inspiration. I'm sorry if it isn't that good, it was written in half an hour (wow, shortest writing period ever), it isn't edited and is product of my melancholic and sleepy mind. Enjoy~
Yoochun’s step falters and he falls face-first on hard asphalt. The alcohol in his system numbs the pain that the deep scratch under his left eye and his split lip would otherwise be causing. The streetlights dance closer to each other (or are they getting farther apart?) and he laughs a bitter laugh.
Junsu sits on the broken reclining couch reading a novel about a girl finding true love after going through failed relationship after failed relationship. Rubbish, he thinks. The dimmed light of the table lamp seems to agree with him as it flickers for a moment, only to remain lit moments later. He’ll have to change the light-bulb soon.
Yoochun finds himself ringing a too familiar doorbell and falling into too familiar arms; a too familiar chest smelling of manliness and sunshine. He’s dragged inside the dark hallway; dark, but familiar. The lights are out on most rooms; he isn’t expected but still welcomed.
He’s dragged to the only lit room, except it’s maybe just less dark because the only source of light is too dim to see past the outlines of the furniture; the patterns in the fabric lost in his drunken haze and lack of illumination. He’s left alone for a moment and then something cold is being pressed against his lip, something wet rubbing under his eye and a body blocking the light.
Junsu carries the deadweight that is a drunken Park Yoochun to the base of the stairs and turns the light on. The man pressed against his side moans as the brightness bothers his eyes but Junsu just adjusts his grip around the man’s waist and pulls.
He turns off the light once he reaches the top of the stairs, never one to waste electricity. He trips and accidentally drops Yoochun; the man groaning out his name.
It is on his bed, Yoochun laying half on top of him, lips against his neck, that he thinks he shouldn’t have opened the door. Yoochun tugs at his boxers and Junsu wants to shove his hands away but Yoochun asks him to turn off the bedside table light and he does just that, the pitch black room no longer witness of what was to happen.
Consciousness welcomes Yoochun back with the morning sun burning directly into his eyes and the distinct dry throat and headache that comes along with hangover nausea.
Junsu shows up a few seconds later; coffee mug in one hand, painkillers in the other. He’s naked and Yoochun hides his face in his hands as Junsu settles the mug and pills next to him and goes to sit at the border of the bed, shuffling around.
When Yoochun takes his hands from his eyes, Junsu is wearing boxers and watching him expectantly with something in his eyes that resembles heartbreak.
He swallows the pills and the coffee quickly, scalding his tongue, and takes a quick shower after Junsu offers. He wears the same clothes as the day before; the shirt neck bloody and reeking of alcohol, the pants in no better state.
Junsu waits for him sitting on the bed. He’s wearing some sweats and a tank top now. The morning light falls upon his face and it does nothing to help hide the dark bags under his eyes, or the look of pure exhaustation, physical and emotional, that masks his features.
He knows this won’t end as well as he would have hoped so he thinks what the hell and is the one to speak first, already bracing himself for the blow he knows is coming.
“Junsu-yah.”
“Are you done? Want some breakfast?”
“N-no, I’m fine. Thanks for everything.”
Yoochun makes to leave and Junsu follows him to the door; there’s no intention of stopping him. The house looks different when it’s not covered in darkness and Yoochun feels a small tinge of regret because maybe he fucked up one too many already and no amount of apologies could fix anything anymore.
Junsu opens the door for him and he stands there looking at the floor, anywhere except Junsu’s face. He doesn’t want to leave, not yet.
“I can’t do this anymore, Yoochun.”
“Junsu…”
“Go back to your wife.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Please don’t come back again.”
His mouth moves but no words come out so he steps out of the house and the door closes between him and Junsu.
He lingers there for a moment, almost wishing the door would open again and Junsu would come out with a smile on his face saying it’s just a joke you idiot and embrace him, but the door doesn’t open again and he wants to scream it isn’t my fault, what do you want me to do? But he’s beyond that already and his feet seem to have a mind of their own because they drag him away from the door and down the street.
The sky is clear over his head; the sunlight bright and warming everything underneath it, as if mocking him. He looks up at the sky and thinks well fuck you too and keeps walking towards a life he doesn’t want to live, towards a place where he doesn’t want to be and getting farther and farther away from the place he wants to call home.