too lateearlywrong to say i love you
too lateearlywrong to say i love you
Jaejoong/Junsu
AU/Drama/Romance/bits of Angst and Fluff; PG
967 words.
Too often, you regret doing something you did. What happens when you regret not doing something you wanted to do?
Gifted to dongbangsuju20 for dbsk_secretgame.
The meetings they always have begin as just that-meetings. Something changes along the way though, the day Jaejoong arrives drunk, mumbling nonsense under his breath and draping himself onto Junsu. He looks up at him, hair mussed and dirty, suit and tie askew, and Junsu thinks he never looked better.
When they wake up the next morning in some sleazy hotel, Jaejoong talks quietly, firmly, while he dresses. Let's pretend this never happened. He obeys and silently watches as their friendship slowly mends, thinking that he’d been the only one who’d thought that there had been something between them, simply waiting for one of them to bring up.
(silently typing at his laptop, he writes down every detail he can remember,
from the tiniest comment about an employee to a loud opinion on
a department head.)
While he sits and waits for Jaejoong to arrive, he downs almost five cups of soju. His tolerance for alcohol has never been high, so by the time Jaejoong comes, he’s drunk, eyes glazed and cheeks red, slurring the words in his greeting together. At Jaejoong’s raised eyebrow, he simply laughs loudly (eu kyang kyang), and tries to pat the seat next to him, missing it by an inch. Sit, sit. He smiles with his hand still moving in the air, groping for contact with the hard wood of a chair.
Jaejoong slides into the seat warily. What's wrong? He looks at him over the rim of his cup, tongue sliding out to taste the soju before he swallows.
Junsu only grins and shakes his head, reaching with unsteady hands to refill Jaejoong’s glass. He continues grinning when Jaejoong gets up to order another bottle; the moment Jaejoong comes back, Junsu yanks at Jaejoong’s tie and grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling Jaejoong’s face down to his level.
Their lips are only a breath apart when Jaejoong whispers. Don't do this, Junsu. We're both married. But he doesn’t stop either, allowing Junsu to mold their lips together, tongues made numb by the soju's strength tentatively exploring the other's mouth and breaths tinged with alcohol intermixing in a way Junsu had always dreamed about.
(he toys with the file in his hand, musing over the man’s character;
his eyes suddenly gleam as he realizes a plan that could work.)
Junsu wakes the next morning with Jaejoong’s fingers dancing lightly over his eyebrows, nose, lips. Opening his eyes, he finds Jaejoong already dressed, collared shirt neatly tucked into his pants, looking as though he’s ready to leave. Junsu sits up slowly, clutching the bed sheet to his chest with late modesty and quietly asks if he’s leaving already.
Jaejoong nods, smiling wryly, and reaches out almost awkwardly to draw him into his arms; Junsu’s heart slightly squeezes when he feels Jaejoong’s hand hesitantly thread through his hair. The lingering scents of soju, stale cologne, cigarette smoke, and clean laundry slightly comfort him somehow when Jaejoong withdraws and picks up his suitcase and jacket, heading out with only a small wave.
His heart leaps when he later realizes that Jaejoong hadn’t mentioned anything about forgetting.
(the taste of the wine he swallows rejuvenates him, allowing him to finally breathe.
his lips slightly upturn at the corner at how well his plan is going.)
The moment he next sees Jaejoong, he blurts out surprising news. My wife’s been cheating on me. Junsu keeps his smile on his face, stretching his lips apart more each time he feels another tear fill his eyes. He doesn’t mention how surprising it is that both his wife and he are cheating on each other; he concentrates on making sure he doesn’t let any tear fall, ignoring Jaejoong’s steady gaze.
When he feels a warm hand, its fourth finger clad in its own responsibilities, gently touch his hand, he swallows the lump in his throat and forces his eyes wide as he looks back at Jaejoong. I’m okay. It’s said a little too brightly, the smile still there on his lips, only this time, it’s a little more brittle.
Jaejoong leans in, brushing his lips across eyelids, nose, lips, tongue lightly brushing away tear tracks. Stop acting in front of me. A corner of his lips curls up, slightly bitter, when he draws back. Junsu remembers with a start that Jaejoong had been through this before just last year, when the entire office had been gossiping about Jaejoong’s divorce from his wife. Rumors had said that his wife had been cheating on him for a little over two years, with a younger, richer man.
Junsu takes a deep breath and smiles again, softly. I’m sorry. He turns his hand over and squeezes Jaejoong’s, fingers moving of their own accord to twine with Jaejoong’s fingers. They stay that way for a while, hands and gazes interlocked with slight, soft smiles on their faces.
(he places the finished report onto his supervisor’s desk and at the man’s slight nod,
he bows, understanding. his assignment is now over.)
As Jaejoong gets escorted out of the building a week later, arms carrying his personal belongings and face a stoic mask, Junsu sits in his cubicle, eyes silently following him. A sudden tap on one of his cubicle’s walls catches Junsu’s attention, and he looks over to see his supervisor leaning negligently against it, a smirk playing with his lips. Good job on gaining his trust, Junsu.
Junsu lowers his eyes and bows from his waist. It was nothing, sir. When the doors to the office finally slam shut, his hands, both hidden from the supervisor’s eyes, slowly clench, nails digging into his palms.
(he sits, alone, at a table where they used to meet, eyes gazing into the distance.
it’s like he’s still waiting for someone,
someone who won’t be coming.)
Jaejoong/Junsu
AU/Drama/Romance/bits of Angst and Fluff; PG
967 words.
Too often, you regret doing something you did. What happens when you regret not doing something you wanted to do?
Gifted to dongbangsuju20 for dbsk_secretgame.
The meetings they always have begin as just that-meetings. Something changes along the way though, the day Jaejoong arrives drunk, mumbling nonsense under his breath and draping himself onto Junsu. He looks up at him, hair mussed and dirty, suit and tie askew, and Junsu thinks he never looked better.
When they wake up the next morning in some sleazy hotel, Jaejoong talks quietly, firmly, while he dresses. Let's pretend this never happened. He obeys and silently watches as their friendship slowly mends, thinking that he’d been the only one who’d thought that there had been something between them, simply waiting for one of them to bring up.
(silently typing at his laptop, he writes down every detail he can remember,
from the tiniest comment about an employee to a loud opinion on
a department head.)
While he sits and waits for Jaejoong to arrive, he downs almost five cups of soju. His tolerance for alcohol has never been high, so by the time Jaejoong comes, he’s drunk, eyes glazed and cheeks red, slurring the words in his greeting together. At Jaejoong’s raised eyebrow, he simply laughs loudly (eu kyang kyang), and tries to pat the seat next to him, missing it by an inch. Sit, sit. He smiles with his hand still moving in the air, groping for contact with the hard wood of a chair.
Jaejoong slides into the seat warily. What's wrong? He looks at him over the rim of his cup, tongue sliding out to taste the soju before he swallows.
Junsu only grins and shakes his head, reaching with unsteady hands to refill Jaejoong’s glass. He continues grinning when Jaejoong gets up to order another bottle; the moment Jaejoong comes back, Junsu yanks at Jaejoong’s tie and grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling Jaejoong’s face down to his level.
Their lips are only a breath apart when Jaejoong whispers. Don't do this, Junsu. We're both married. But he doesn’t stop either, allowing Junsu to mold their lips together, tongues made numb by the soju's strength tentatively exploring the other's mouth and breaths tinged with alcohol intermixing in a way Junsu had always dreamed about.
(he toys with the file in his hand, musing over the man’s character;
his eyes suddenly gleam as he realizes a plan that could work.)
Junsu wakes the next morning with Jaejoong’s fingers dancing lightly over his eyebrows, nose, lips. Opening his eyes, he finds Jaejoong already dressed, collared shirt neatly tucked into his pants, looking as though he’s ready to leave. Junsu sits up slowly, clutching the bed sheet to his chest with late modesty and quietly asks if he’s leaving already.
Jaejoong nods, smiling wryly, and reaches out almost awkwardly to draw him into his arms; Junsu’s heart slightly squeezes when he feels Jaejoong’s hand hesitantly thread through his hair. The lingering scents of soju, stale cologne, cigarette smoke, and clean laundry slightly comfort him somehow when Jaejoong withdraws and picks up his suitcase and jacket, heading out with only a small wave.
His heart leaps when he later realizes that Jaejoong hadn’t mentioned anything about forgetting.
(the taste of the wine he swallows rejuvenates him, allowing him to finally breathe.
his lips slightly upturn at the corner at how well his plan is going.)
The moment he next sees Jaejoong, he blurts out surprising news. My wife’s been cheating on me. Junsu keeps his smile on his face, stretching his lips apart more each time he feels another tear fill his eyes. He doesn’t mention how surprising it is that both his wife and he are cheating on each other; he concentrates on making sure he doesn’t let any tear fall, ignoring Jaejoong’s steady gaze.
When he feels a warm hand, its fourth finger clad in its own responsibilities, gently touch his hand, he swallows the lump in his throat and forces his eyes wide as he looks back at Jaejoong. I’m okay. It’s said a little too brightly, the smile still there on his lips, only this time, it’s a little more brittle.
Jaejoong leans in, brushing his lips across eyelids, nose, lips, tongue lightly brushing away tear tracks. Stop acting in front of me. A corner of his lips curls up, slightly bitter, when he draws back. Junsu remembers with a start that Jaejoong had been through this before just last year, when the entire office had been gossiping about Jaejoong’s divorce from his wife. Rumors had said that his wife had been cheating on him for a little over two years, with a younger, richer man.
Junsu takes a deep breath and smiles again, softly. I’m sorry. He turns his hand over and squeezes Jaejoong’s, fingers moving of their own accord to twine with Jaejoong’s fingers. They stay that way for a while, hands and gazes interlocked with slight, soft smiles on their faces.
(he places the finished report onto his supervisor’s desk and at the man’s slight nod,
he bows, understanding. his assignment is now over.)
As Jaejoong gets escorted out of the building a week later, arms carrying his personal belongings and face a stoic mask, Junsu sits in his cubicle, eyes silently following him. A sudden tap on one of his cubicle’s walls catches Junsu’s attention, and he looks over to see his supervisor leaning negligently against it, a smirk playing with his lips. Good job on gaining his trust, Junsu.
Junsu lowers his eyes and bows from his waist. It was nothing, sir. When the doors to the office finally slam shut, his hands, both hidden from the supervisor’s eyes, slowly clench, nails digging into his palms.
(he sits, alone, at a table where they used to meet, eyes gazing into the distance.
it’s like he’s still waiting for someone,
someone who won’t be coming.)