Recovery
recovery
dbsk(jyj)/boa, dbsk(jyj)/snsd - jaejoong!centric + jaejoong/boa, jaejoong/yoona - r
5109w~
jaejoong imagines different people in a different scenario and he wishes their love was mutual.
warnings: language, brief mentions of sex, (previously) implied incest
a/n: written originally for kpop_ficmix 2013 challenge, originally posted here ; the original fic is aoza's burnt in between, and although i cannot properly add on to an already flawless piece of work, i do hope you all enjoy. also thank you kisoap for sticking me with me through this ficmix - we managed to survive!! ♥
It has been three years since he's last seen the rising sun. Jaejoong still remembers her white skin, innocence tainted and empty, black eyes that he's been drowning under since her disappearance.
It has been three years since he's last seen Im Yoona.
Jaejoong twirls an unlit cigarette between two fingers and frowns. He hasn't put one to his lips in over two years, but he finds comfort in it anyways, in the ash that falls when he lights it, and in letting the wind take its tread. He hears of Changmin's name occasionally, and as the black leftovers fall from the end of the stick, he remembers bitter days in the mob and his heart being stolen away for someone else. Jaejoong remembers a lot of things, and he forgets the better ones.
He was supposed to meet her at home fourteen minutes ago.
She doesn't call to remind him.
The lights are still on when he finally reaches the apartment. One light, the ugly yellow bulb showcasing the empty beer cans littering the coffee table, a fresh one in her hand, and Jaejoong wonders how she still manages to give him love in their eternal drunken state.
He drops his coat on the floor and Boa sets the can down with it. She turns to look at him and he doesn't remember when she dyed her hair black, sharp against her colorless skin. Jaejoong meets her gaze and her eyes are wet, but there is nothing left for him to wipe away. "Why are you still looking back?"
When he doesn't answer, Boa stands up, tightening the blanket around her as she walks towards him. She comes closer and he smells his cologne, and Jaejoong wonders if she drowns in his scent in the time that he does not give to her, precious minutes and hours wasted mourning over lost belongings and what wasn't his to begin with.
She is right in front of him, then, and he tells himself the yellow light isn't enough to see her broken expression, to act as if there is something wrong. Boa's arms come around his waist and her skin is warm.
Jaejoong doesn't find the will to hold her back and he goes to bed alone that night. Her touch still lingers even after he has fallen asleep.
He hadn't talked much about it after moving to Japan. Occasionally Boa would catch him staring at the picture of her in his wallet, fifteen and suddenly beautiful even though they are long past that stage, but it was never enough. She would sigh and he would twirl the card stock between his fingers once or twice, admiring not her but nothing, and then tuck it away, and it was the furthest they ever got.
Then one night, they are sitting outside on the balcony of their apartment, and Jaejoong is holding her hand, their legs swinging through the bars. There's a beer can in his other hand and Osaka's skyline is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the rising sun.
"When did you start loving her?"
Jaejoong tightens his grip on her hand, unafraid of crushing her, and the lights are blinding in front of him. "When she became beautiful." He doesn't know if that's the truth, because maybe he has always loved her, but not every story is written out from the beginning and neither is theirs.
"And then?"
"And then I tried to make her ugly." Jaejoong smiles bitterly. He can feel Boa looking at him, a burning gaze to his skin, but she is not a healer no matter how much they wish. "I tried to make her ugly, like me, but I couldn't."
He leans over, suddenly, and kisses Boa, pressing his lips against her and trying to find the monster inside of him. She brings her free hand around to hold his face, warm flesh against his cold skin, and the alcohol doesn't taste so bitter anymore.
Jaejoong pulls away when his heart stops racing and presses his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, and the life out there doesn't compare to what he has right here. "Her beauty tainted someone else," he whispers, "and I can call you mine." Boa doesn't respond and he doesn't think it should be enough.
Her side of the bed is empty when he wakes up. She's found solitude on the couch downstairs, permanently sunken in by the amount of times it's been slept on, and it is without a pillow or a blanket that she freezes in their family room. Jaejoong takes the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and drapes it over her, but Boa grabs his hand before he has the chance to let go.
They sit together on the couch, her head against his shoulder and his hand in her lap. Jaejoong imagines different people in a different scenario and he wishes their love was mutual.
"Do you still love her?"
It takes her a while to realize that he doesn't have an answer.
"It's been three years, Jaejoong." Boa stands up, and he feels alone, suddenly. "You're going to have to face this sometime." Boa nudges his foot with her own and she could be his forever, but neither of them know if that's enough anymore. She leaves and he thinks about holding her back, but by the time he's decided she is no longer within reach.
Jaejoong wonders if she ever was.
The florist knows his name, now. Jaejoong comes by every week, searches around for an hour or two in the shop, picking through endless rows of greenery, and ends up leaving the shop buying the same bouquet of flowers every time, exact change in hand.
She had been standing outside of the shop the first time he'd seen her, rearranging the outside display, and she looked kind of like Yoona at the time, all the kinds of flawless he was so used to. Jaejoong stopped and stared and then she turned around, smiling, white teeth sparkling almost as brightly as her innocence, and he knew then it wasn't her.
"Hello, sir. Would you like to buy some flowers?"
He thinks he owes her after that, and she smiles the whole time he searches. "How about your girlfriend's favorite flowers? I'm sure someone as handsome as you has an equally beautiful girlfriend, no?" Jaejoong laughs at that, as if that were the truth and maybe there was someone as worthy (as undeserving) to hold his hand and call him theirs.
Yoona likes gardenias. Secret love, she called them, when they were younger. They grew in the backyard of her parents' house, and she would pick them in bunches, wrap them with a hair tie and place them in a vase in his room. "You love me, right?" she would always ask, and with the love you're supposed to have for sisters, he would laugh and hit her head lightly. Then Yoona would whine and push the flowers towards him, stomping her feet, and long after she had gone, the words would still be ringing in his head. "The flowers know you love me, oppa, you don't have to tell me."
Jaejoong realizes he doesn't know Boa's favorite flowers, and the florist is still waiting. He grabs the nearest bouquet, a simple set of red roses, and tells the florist his girlfriend is a hopeless romantic. He's not completely lying. Later, Boa tells him she never liked roses until he bought them for her, and it becomes their routine.
The florist greets him with the same smile on her face, and she watches as he scours through the flowers, again and again, before landing at the bed of roses. Jaejoong picks through six different bouquets before finding one where all the roses are a matching scarlet red color, and he hands her the change without so much as a goodbye.
He sees Yoona laughing in a pretty white dress every time he leaves the florist's, gardenias held tightly in her little fists, and then one day the blood red begins to wash her image away. Jaejoong lets them.
They had been on vacation. Going on vacation, to be more exact, when Boa had suggested getting away from the rest of the world, slipping her fingers in between his like it was going to be alright.
Jaejoong packs the last of their bags into his car and they are driving, and the smile on Boa's face is one that he hasn't seen before. She's gripping tightly on to his hand, singing along to a pop song on the radio, and laughing at the little things, pedestrians on the road and a car that fumbles a little bit in front of them. Jaejoong finds himself smiling with her, and he thinks then that it really just might be alright.
Everything comes back too soon.
There's a couple walking along the sidewalk next to his car, backs faced towards them, hands swinging back and forth in between them, and a car slams into the side of Jaejoong's station wagon.
Boa screams, and all Jaejoong can think of are the couple - of the girl's long, flowing brown hair, white dress, hands linked with someone taller, dark hair and all the protection he couldn't be. Yoona's image flashes in his mind and then Boa's yell interrupts his thoughts, her voice a break to his trance. "Jaejoong! Jaejoong, are you okay?"
They walk home after the accident is cleared up, Jaejoong's hand loosely dangling in Boa's. She doesn't say anything and he wonders if she hates him.
"You've got a huge cut on your arm," she finally gets out, and the smile she gives him is broken. "We should probably go to the hospital and make sure you don't have any other injuries."
Jaejoong leans in and kisses her and there's a cut on her lip, and he tastes salty tears and blood where he kisses her, harder even though it's never enough. Numerous other cuts litter her face from the broken glass, and he wishes there was something he could say to take this all away. When he pulls away, Boa wipes at her eyes, her smile faltering, and Jaejoong knows then there is nothing he can do. Neither of them would allow it.
Boa moans loudly into his mouth, heart racing as he presses his lips against hers, and it has been months since they've last done this. They're in the bedroom, Jaejoong pushing her against the headboard as he fumbles with the buttons of her blouse, and her nails rake down the expanse of his back.
He hears her mumble, "Oh, fuck," as he tugs her shirt off, his lips traveling down to her neck. Boa's hand wrestles with his belt loop, and Jaejoong smirks, biting at the soft flesh underneath his lips and then soothing it with his tongue when she gasps. She runs her free hand through his hair and he can feel her desperation, her need and her lack of satisfaction, how much the two of them have missed this.
The belt finally unhooks and then her hand slides down into his boxers, palming at his growing erection. Jaejoong groans, letting his eyes fall shut. "Yoona…"
She stops, suddenly, and he opens his eyes to see Boa staring at him, her bottom lip quivering. "Wait, Boa," he starts (he's screwed up again, again and again and again), but then she leans in and kisses him, and it lacks the heat he was craving minutes ago. He tries pulling back but she just grabs on to the back of his neck and pulls him in tighter, breathing heavily against his lips.
"Shut up, just shut up and let me finish this," she mumbles, hand still in his pants. Jaejoong doesn't have the energy to fight back and they finish in a mess with his jeans still hanging around his knees.
There are tears in her eyes by the time they're both done and there's a reason why it's been months.
Boa disappears for the rest of the weekend. She leaves a note on the refrigerator in her messy handwriting, going on a trip with some girlfriends for the weekend, clean yourself up followed by a couple of badly drawn hearts and her signature. She texts him later that afternoon, too, there's food in the refrigerator and money in the utensils drawer and Jaejoong wonders about her. He wonders about her trip and her friends that she's never spoken of and all of the little things he never cared to pay attention to before.
He gets a call Sunday afternoon. It's been three years (five months, two weeks and six days) since he's last heard her voice.
"Changmin and I are in town," is the first thing she says, before he is able to hang up. "Would you like to meet up?"
"Your voice is the same."
He can't think of anything else to say. She sounds like the flowers blooming, like first spring showers, like the rising sun.
"I'll be where she always was."
Silent, and beautiful.
Jaejoong smiles and the phone is still open when the dial tone beeps, Yoona's voice still ringing in his ears. He leaves a note for Boa in case she comes back and it isn't nearly as forgiving as the one Boa left him.
They had talked about it once before, sitting on the balcony, holding hands and legs dangling through the metal bars, like every time.
Boa has her chin on his shoulder, face towards his neck, breathing softly so it tickles his skin. Jaejoong thinks it feels kind of nice. "What would you do if you ever met her?" she whispers, and it always reverted back to this. He wishes he could hurt her less.
"I don't know." Jaejoong sighs, tightening his grip on her hand because there is no right answer to this. "I don't know," he says again. "Why?"
"I'm just wondering." Boa pulls back, blinking her eyes furiously as she smiles at him. "I wouldn't mind, if that's what you're thinking. It'd be good for you." Jaejoong raises his eyebrow at her and she laughs lightly, rubbing at her eyes. It's sad how his heart lacks the pain it should be feeling right now. "I don't know, I just think…. I think it would be good for you." They both have a bad habit of repeating themselves.
He turns to look at the skyline, the lights that are still flashing and the parade that is marching downtown. He doesn't remember the holiday. "You love people," he begins, "and then you love someone, and I didn't know how to do either of those things."
"And?"
"And I tried loving her, the way that one person is supposed to be, and I couldn't."
Boa sighs, using both her hands to hold on to his one. "Loving someone isn't a job, you know. It's supposed to come naturally."
Jaejoong shakes his head, closing his eyes. Her breathing is rugged and he wonders who it's become easier for, after all this time. "I don't know how to give it otherwise." Boa finds it kind of heartbreaking, but neither of them have to say anything to know that.
She's wearing white. It's the first thing he notices, face turned to the mirror, expensive-looking sunglasses and her hands in her lap, a white lace dress loosely hugging her body. Changmin's not with her. That's the second.
Jaejoong stops in front of the table she is sitting at, and she smiles before turning to look at him. "Where's your guardian?"
"Jaejoong…"
Her smile falls and he smirks, dragging the wooden chair backwards. The screeching sound makes her wince and he wishes he knew how to stop. "It was just a question."
Yoona pulls her sunglasses up on her head and leans forward, hands fiddling with the utensils in front of her. "He though me and you would like to talk alone. Would you like anything to drink? Coffee?"
He snorts and sits back against his chair. "Is this what you called me out here for? To offer me a drink?"
Yoona sighs. "No."
"Then?"
"I…" Her head drops and her fingers stop. "I don't know."
Jaejoong leans forward and the space on the table is too small for the both of them. His hands are dangerously near brushing hers but she seems to be in no hurry to move them away, and the thoughts swimming inside his head are the ones that got him into this mess in the first place. "I can't stop."
"Jaejoong…"
"No, I can't. It's, I don't know, it's like some constant reminder. You'll never be healed and I won't ever, I won't ever forget this, and it's this cycle of just… I don't know, I don't fucking know. I can't forget. I can't stop. I can't fucking do anything."
Her hand inches closer to his and he finds himself backing away, further and further back until he thinks he might be able to see behind himself. "I'm fine, Jaejoong, stop thinking like that-"
"Well I'm not fine, Yoona!" Yoona looks up at him, then, eyes wet and and unbroken, and this is what he was afraid of. "I can't - I shouldn't even be here, I have to go." He pushes his chair back and stands up, and suddenly her hold is on him. "Don't fucking touch me!"
"Jaejoong, wait!"
"Just don't - don't say my name." He shrugs her arm off and shakes his head, stumbling forward until he sees the glass door entrance. He feels Yoona staring at him and he pushes at the door, trudging ahead until he thinks he might finally be far enough to not go back. Jaejoong leaves her alone in the cafe and he doesn't think he'll ever stop hurting her.
It isn't winter anymore, Jaejoong thinks.
It is the end of May, the second year (alone).
Boa is in the kitchen, brewing coffee, Jaejoong leaning against the counter and flipping through the calendar. The days blend into weeks, the weeks into months, and then he can't tell the seasons apart anymore, but winter has been long gone and he finds that kind of sad.
It is her birthday and he doesn't know why he still remembers.
"Do you want her here?" she says, suddenly. "With you?"
Jaejoong thinks he forgets her every day. Every passing day, he thinks he's wiped away the memory of her, and he is finally living in the present and Boa in his arms is enough for the both of them. Every day, Jaejoong tells himself, he has forgotten her.
He doesn't respond, Boa's stare on him heavy, and it's like it always was.
"God, Jaejoong, you just-" She throws the platter in her hand to the floor, and he doesn't wince when it breaks into pieces, the sound emitting loud and painful. "Do you see that?" Jaejoong looks up and there are glass shards everywhere, scattered across the tile floor. "That's you, Jaejoong. That's you, fucking around with everyone that tries to help."
"Then clean it up or leave it alone."
Boa sighs, and it takes all the energy he has to look up at her, not wipe the tears that are collecting at her eyes. "It keeps breaking." She looks up at him, smiling bitterly, and then bends down to collect the pieces. "How do you expect me to stop?"
Jaejoong leaves to bed early and Boa crawls under the comforters an hour after him, her right hand bandaged and healed better than the rest of her.
Boa is home by the time he comes back from his meeting with Yoona.
He pushes open the door and she is dropping her bag on the counter, slumped shoulders and tired eyes when she turns to look at him. Jaejoong stumbles towards her and grabs her face, pulling her in for a kiss and not letting go until she pushes him away. "What are you doing-"
"Jus-just let me…." He kisses her again, slipping his tongue between her lips and fighting for what he's always told himself was his. His lips trail down to her jawline and he presses kisses all against her skin, not stopping until he he is past her neck and to her collarbone, nipping and kissing and telling himself it is okay. "I don't - I don't need her," he mumbles, "I don't love her, I only," his lips are back up to her own, now, and her hands are running through his hair, "I only need you."
She pulls back, finally, and her lips are a blistering red color. "Jaejoong."
"Boa, I promise you, I - I know now."
"Jaejoong," she says again, and she smiles at him, one hand around his neck and another tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. "I feel like - like I'm being forced to hold on now."
He leans in and kisses her, tightening his grip around her waist, and both of her arms are around his neck when he finally lets her know. "Don't let go of me now," he whispers, lips still against hers. "Not yet."
It had been a good night. Boa curled in his arms, head on his chest, warmth and a feeling of belonging and maybe what they were doing was alright. The wind is blowing outside and the chimes are singing and it had been a good night.
"There's a healing process, you know," she whispers, and Jaejoong smiles, pulling her in closer. "You don't have to get over it all at once."
"Telling you would probably hurt you," he says, as if he hasn't already.
Boa laughs and he can feels the wetness of her pretty tears against his skin, cold and sensitive like the whole of their relationship. "It doesn't matter if I'm breaking when you're already broken," she replies, and later she falls asleep in his arms in ugly pieces.
Even if they are far from beautiful, at least they are together, Jaejoong thinks. That should count for something.
Yoona calls him a week later over dinner, homemade and a little overcooked. Jaejoong glances at his phone once and then leaves it vibrating in his pocket, a constant reminder of what he's doing for a straight thirty seconds.
He's just gotten his relationship back on track. Jaejoong is not about to screw it up again.
Boa glances up, fork in her hand, and raises a questioning eyebrow. "What was that about?" He shakes his head and she doesn't push it, but the presence of it is still there and he has done it again.
"Im Yoo-" Jaejoong takes his phone out of his pocket, opening it and going straight to the missed calls, her name written in neat block letters on the screen in an angry red color. "Im fucking Yoo-," he stops again, managing only that through closed teeth, and he throws his phone to floor. Boa winces as it cracks into little pieces, bits of glass and metal flooding the wooden floor. "That's what that was about. Im fucking Yoona."
Jaejoong pushes his chair back and doesn't finish appreciating Boa's hard work. He's already fucked up, anyways.
(jaejoong sneaks boa's phone out of her purse later that night, and he dials familiar numbers on a screen keyboard, holding the phone up against his ear when he hits the deadly call button. the ringing tone doesn't match the pounding of his heart and he has her number imprinted on his heart like the rest of her selfless being.
she picks up right before it goes to voicemail and her whisper tells him she isn't supposed to be doing this either.
"jaejoong." he likes the way she says his name, still.
he takes in a deep breath and tries not to let it show. "why did you call?"
"i just…" she stops, and he shudders, hand shaking and heart breaking. pretty rhymes he didn't know he could make but they hurt him anyways. "we aren't." she stops again and he knows what she is going to say this time. "we aren't each others."
"yoona-"
"we are no longer each other's, kim jaejoong," she says again.
he's known that for three years, a constant reminder to the back of his mind when boa holds his hand and it is not yoona and he loves her anyways, pretends that there is nothing wrong with imagining and changmin wasn't ever part of the picture. she's known for that for the same three years too.
he smiles and he wonders if his outer being is as ugly as his inner one. there's some sort of satisfaction in knowing that he hangs up first, and he slips boa's phone back into her purse when he thinks she was never looking.
boa sits on the staircase, fist to her mouth, tears in her eyes. she wonders who she is crying for.)
Boa likes anniversary dinners and the little things. They're sitting at the counter, lights almost off with a vanilla-scented candle at the center of the table, plum red wine and a five course meal she hasn't taken to the trouble of making.
There's a record spinning on their record player and she's done herself up, hair off to one side and lips slicked neatly with red lipstick. She's wearing gloves and a black dress and Jaejoong thinks she looks prettier with her hair loose, no makeup just like she is in the morning, but he kisses her anyways and ignores the way the red color rubs on to his own lips. "You look beautiful," he whispers, and Jaejoong thinks it's worth it, the way she smiles and pulls him to the table.
It's a pretty song playing, Jaejoong thinks. Unfitting for the occasion, but beautiful anyways.
She isn't talking and so he listens to the lyrics instead, of one sided love and the ugly feelings that can't be pushed down, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tasted better than this.
Boa is tipsy when the time comes around to clean up, and Jaejoong pulls her out of the chair, into their bedroom where he slips all the pins out of her hair and kisses the lipstick off of her.
The taint to her cheeks is natural, then, and Jaejoong still thinks peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are better.
"She left."
Jaejoong doesn't answer. His eyes stay glued to his phone screen, but the words blur in front of him suddenly and Boa's warm arm around his shoulder doesn't do anything but prove a mild distraction. "She left, Jaejoong," Boa says again, and he turns towards her.
"Yeah. I heard you the first time."
He stands up and she doesn't foliow after him, and even after all these years Boa knows what's best for him better than he does.
Jaejoong goes upstairs and heads straight for his wallet, pulling out the picture of Yoona, heavy in his hands. He stares into her eyes and pretends she is now the same girl she was when she was fifteen, innocent and just as beautiful as she was then. He stares at her picture, and there are no tears left.
He rips the card stock in half, and then half again, continuing until the photo remains a litter of paper in his hands, and he lets it fall to the floor.
The cracks fall apart, stitches he has spent years sowing up together. Jaejoong doesn't know if he wants them fixed anymore.
The cigarette is heavier than it was the first time he ever picked it up. Jaejoong pulls out his lighter, lighting the end of it and admiring the way the smoke curls up in waves, and the scent is relaxing, familiar.
He walks down the stairs from the apartment, one step ahead of another, trudging forwards, and by the time he reaches the beach, he's gone through four cigarettes and his head feels light and empty. Jaejoong takes a seat at the end of the pier, the wooden legs swaying lightly from the harsh winds, and it settles as soon as the sun begins disappearing from view, warm colors littering the extent of the sky.
His love for her disappears as the sun sets, and he waits for the colors to fade away, beautiful and never lasting long enough.
It will rise again in the morning but Jaejoong thinks he might have finally buried it to rest, and the waves crashing against the shore, drops of water hitting his feet, they are endless like his love for Boa.
He lights another cigarette and breathes in naturally, letting the smoke settle and blow away, and he stubs it out against the wooden planks when the sun is gone and the waves are still pushing forward.
Jaejoong lets out a heavy sigh and throws the cigarette packet away when he leaves the beach.
When he comes home, Boa is sleeping on the couch, a light blanket drawn out over her arms. The yellow lamp casts a dim glow across her tan face, make up not removed from her work day and the lipstick smudged slightly at the corner of her lips. She doesn't look glamorous or beautiful - she just looks plain, and Jaejoong smiles.
He lifts her up, warm in his arms (like yoona never was) and carries her upstairs to their bedroom, tucking her under the covers and pretending he doesn't notice how one side of her mouth twitches and maybe she wasn't expecting him to come home.
He joins her once all the lights are off, the doors locked, and it finally feels like a home, this tight space with just the two of them, living only for each other now.
Jaejoong wraps his arm around her and he thinks maybe he knows how to love her now.
"I think I finally get it."
Boa turns to him, waves of hair framing her face and he likes the way she smiles at him, quirking her lips and the petty expression. "Get what?"
"I'm - we're each other's."
She tightens her grip on his hand, legs swinging through the balcony rails, the Osaka skyline shining beautifully, and Jaejoong loves her. He loves her, now, loves her like he didn't love her before, and there is finally a happy ending to the tragic finity he didn't think would ever end.
Boa leans her head against his shoulder, movements eased and practiced because this is nothing short of remembrance. "I'm just attempting to fill in the cracks," she whispers, pressing her lips against his chest, beating heart thundering and her fingers fit in between his because they were meant to be.
He doesn't look back after that.
requests of the day
sekai
gdragon/cl
seohyun/lee won geun
seohyun
in general
yessss
dbsk(jyj)/boa, dbsk(jyj)/snsd - jaejoong!centric + jaejoong/boa, jaejoong/yoona - r
5109w~
jaejoong imagines different people in a different scenario and he wishes their love was mutual.
warnings: language, brief mentions of sex, (previously) implied incest
a/n: written originally for kpop_ficmix 2013 challenge, originally posted here ; the original fic is aoza's burnt in between, and although i cannot properly add on to an already flawless piece of work, i do hope you all enjoy. also thank you kisoap for sticking me with me through this ficmix - we managed to survive!! ♥
It has been three years since he's last seen the rising sun. Jaejoong still remembers her white skin, innocence tainted and empty, black eyes that he's been drowning under since her disappearance.
It has been three years since he's last seen Im Yoona.
Jaejoong twirls an unlit cigarette between two fingers and frowns. He hasn't put one to his lips in over two years, but he finds comfort in it anyways, in the ash that falls when he lights it, and in letting the wind take its tread. He hears of Changmin's name occasionally, and as the black leftovers fall from the end of the stick, he remembers bitter days in the mob and his heart being stolen away for someone else. Jaejoong remembers a lot of things, and he forgets the better ones.
He was supposed to meet her at home fourteen minutes ago.
She doesn't call to remind him.
The lights are still on when he finally reaches the apartment. One light, the ugly yellow bulb showcasing the empty beer cans littering the coffee table, a fresh one in her hand, and Jaejoong wonders how she still manages to give him love in their eternal drunken state.
He drops his coat on the floor and Boa sets the can down with it. She turns to look at him and he doesn't remember when she dyed her hair black, sharp against her colorless skin. Jaejoong meets her gaze and her eyes are wet, but there is nothing left for him to wipe away. "Why are you still looking back?"
When he doesn't answer, Boa stands up, tightening the blanket around her as she walks towards him. She comes closer and he smells his cologne, and Jaejoong wonders if she drowns in his scent in the time that he does not give to her, precious minutes and hours wasted mourning over lost belongings and what wasn't his to begin with.
She is right in front of him, then, and he tells himself the yellow light isn't enough to see her broken expression, to act as if there is something wrong. Boa's arms come around his waist and her skin is warm.
Jaejoong doesn't find the will to hold her back and he goes to bed alone that night. Her touch still lingers even after he has fallen asleep.
He hadn't talked much about it after moving to Japan. Occasionally Boa would catch him staring at the picture of her in his wallet, fifteen and suddenly beautiful even though they are long past that stage, but it was never enough. She would sigh and he would twirl the card stock between his fingers once or twice, admiring not her but nothing, and then tuck it away, and it was the furthest they ever got.
Then one night, they are sitting outside on the balcony of their apartment, and Jaejoong is holding her hand, their legs swinging through the bars. There's a beer can in his other hand and Osaka's skyline is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the rising sun.
"When did you start loving her?"
Jaejoong tightens his grip on her hand, unafraid of crushing her, and the lights are blinding in front of him. "When she became beautiful." He doesn't know if that's the truth, because maybe he has always loved her, but not every story is written out from the beginning and neither is theirs.
"And then?"
"And then I tried to make her ugly." Jaejoong smiles bitterly. He can feel Boa looking at him, a burning gaze to his skin, but she is not a healer no matter how much they wish. "I tried to make her ugly, like me, but I couldn't."
He leans over, suddenly, and kisses Boa, pressing his lips against her and trying to find the monster inside of him. She brings her free hand around to hold his face, warm flesh against his cold skin, and the alcohol doesn't taste so bitter anymore.
Jaejoong pulls away when his heart stops racing and presses his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, and the life out there doesn't compare to what he has right here. "Her beauty tainted someone else," he whispers, "and I can call you mine." Boa doesn't respond and he doesn't think it should be enough.
Her side of the bed is empty when he wakes up. She's found solitude on the couch downstairs, permanently sunken in by the amount of times it's been slept on, and it is without a pillow or a blanket that she freezes in their family room. Jaejoong takes the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and drapes it over her, but Boa grabs his hand before he has the chance to let go.
They sit together on the couch, her head against his shoulder and his hand in her lap. Jaejoong imagines different people in a different scenario and he wishes their love was mutual.
"Do you still love her?"
It takes her a while to realize that he doesn't have an answer.
"It's been three years, Jaejoong." Boa stands up, and he feels alone, suddenly. "You're going to have to face this sometime." Boa nudges his foot with her own and she could be his forever, but neither of them know if that's enough anymore. She leaves and he thinks about holding her back, but by the time he's decided she is no longer within reach.
Jaejoong wonders if she ever was.
The florist knows his name, now. Jaejoong comes by every week, searches around for an hour or two in the shop, picking through endless rows of greenery, and ends up leaving the shop buying the same bouquet of flowers every time, exact change in hand.
She had been standing outside of the shop the first time he'd seen her, rearranging the outside display, and she looked kind of like Yoona at the time, all the kinds of flawless he was so used to. Jaejoong stopped and stared and then she turned around, smiling, white teeth sparkling almost as brightly as her innocence, and he knew then it wasn't her.
"Hello, sir. Would you like to buy some flowers?"
He thinks he owes her after that, and she smiles the whole time he searches. "How about your girlfriend's favorite flowers? I'm sure someone as handsome as you has an equally beautiful girlfriend, no?" Jaejoong laughs at that, as if that were the truth and maybe there was someone as worthy (as undeserving) to hold his hand and call him theirs.
Yoona likes gardenias. Secret love, she called them, when they were younger. They grew in the backyard of her parents' house, and she would pick them in bunches, wrap them with a hair tie and place them in a vase in his room. "You love me, right?" she would always ask, and with the love you're supposed to have for sisters, he would laugh and hit her head lightly. Then Yoona would whine and push the flowers towards him, stomping her feet, and long after she had gone, the words would still be ringing in his head. "The flowers know you love me, oppa, you don't have to tell me."
Jaejoong realizes he doesn't know Boa's favorite flowers, and the florist is still waiting. He grabs the nearest bouquet, a simple set of red roses, and tells the florist his girlfriend is a hopeless romantic. He's not completely lying. Later, Boa tells him she never liked roses until he bought them for her, and it becomes their routine.
The florist greets him with the same smile on her face, and she watches as he scours through the flowers, again and again, before landing at the bed of roses. Jaejoong picks through six different bouquets before finding one where all the roses are a matching scarlet red color, and he hands her the change without so much as a goodbye.
He sees Yoona laughing in a pretty white dress every time he leaves the florist's, gardenias held tightly in her little fists, and then one day the blood red begins to wash her image away. Jaejoong lets them.
They had been on vacation. Going on vacation, to be more exact, when Boa had suggested getting away from the rest of the world, slipping her fingers in between his like it was going to be alright.
Jaejoong packs the last of their bags into his car and they are driving, and the smile on Boa's face is one that he hasn't seen before. She's gripping tightly on to his hand, singing along to a pop song on the radio, and laughing at the little things, pedestrians on the road and a car that fumbles a little bit in front of them. Jaejoong finds himself smiling with her, and he thinks then that it really just might be alright.
Everything comes back too soon.
There's a couple walking along the sidewalk next to his car, backs faced towards them, hands swinging back and forth in between them, and a car slams into the side of Jaejoong's station wagon.
Boa screams, and all Jaejoong can think of are the couple - of the girl's long, flowing brown hair, white dress, hands linked with someone taller, dark hair and all the protection he couldn't be. Yoona's image flashes in his mind and then Boa's yell interrupts his thoughts, her voice a break to his trance. "Jaejoong! Jaejoong, are you okay?"
They walk home after the accident is cleared up, Jaejoong's hand loosely dangling in Boa's. She doesn't say anything and he wonders if she hates him.
"You've got a huge cut on your arm," she finally gets out, and the smile she gives him is broken. "We should probably go to the hospital and make sure you don't have any other injuries."
Jaejoong leans in and kisses her and there's a cut on her lip, and he tastes salty tears and blood where he kisses her, harder even though it's never enough. Numerous other cuts litter her face from the broken glass, and he wishes there was something he could say to take this all away. When he pulls away, Boa wipes at her eyes, her smile faltering, and Jaejoong knows then there is nothing he can do. Neither of them would allow it.
Boa moans loudly into his mouth, heart racing as he presses his lips against hers, and it has been months since they've last done this. They're in the bedroom, Jaejoong pushing her against the headboard as he fumbles with the buttons of her blouse, and her nails rake down the expanse of his back.
He hears her mumble, "Oh, fuck," as he tugs her shirt off, his lips traveling down to her neck. Boa's hand wrestles with his belt loop, and Jaejoong smirks, biting at the soft flesh underneath his lips and then soothing it with his tongue when she gasps. She runs her free hand through his hair and he can feel her desperation, her need and her lack of satisfaction, how much the two of them have missed this.
The belt finally unhooks and then her hand slides down into his boxers, palming at his growing erection. Jaejoong groans, letting his eyes fall shut. "Yoona…"
She stops, suddenly, and he opens his eyes to see Boa staring at him, her bottom lip quivering. "Wait, Boa," he starts (he's screwed up again, again and again and again), but then she leans in and kisses him, and it lacks the heat he was craving minutes ago. He tries pulling back but she just grabs on to the back of his neck and pulls him in tighter, breathing heavily against his lips.
"Shut up, just shut up and let me finish this," she mumbles, hand still in his pants. Jaejoong doesn't have the energy to fight back and they finish in a mess with his jeans still hanging around his knees.
There are tears in her eyes by the time they're both done and there's a reason why it's been months.
Boa disappears for the rest of the weekend. She leaves a note on the refrigerator in her messy handwriting, going on a trip with some girlfriends for the weekend, clean yourself up followed by a couple of badly drawn hearts and her signature. She texts him later that afternoon, too, there's food in the refrigerator and money in the utensils drawer and Jaejoong wonders about her. He wonders about her trip and her friends that she's never spoken of and all of the little things he never cared to pay attention to before.
He gets a call Sunday afternoon. It's been three years (five months, two weeks and six days) since he's last heard her voice.
"Changmin and I are in town," is the first thing she says, before he is able to hang up. "Would you like to meet up?"
"Your voice is the same."
He can't think of anything else to say. She sounds like the flowers blooming, like first spring showers, like the rising sun.
"I'll be where she always was."
Silent, and beautiful.
Jaejoong smiles and the phone is still open when the dial tone beeps, Yoona's voice still ringing in his ears. He leaves a note for Boa in case she comes back and it isn't nearly as forgiving as the one Boa left him.
They had talked about it once before, sitting on the balcony, holding hands and legs dangling through the metal bars, like every time.
Boa has her chin on his shoulder, face towards his neck, breathing softly so it tickles his skin. Jaejoong thinks it feels kind of nice. "What would you do if you ever met her?" she whispers, and it always reverted back to this. He wishes he could hurt her less.
"I don't know." Jaejoong sighs, tightening his grip on her hand because there is no right answer to this. "I don't know," he says again. "Why?"
"I'm just wondering." Boa pulls back, blinking her eyes furiously as she smiles at him. "I wouldn't mind, if that's what you're thinking. It'd be good for you." Jaejoong raises his eyebrow at her and she laughs lightly, rubbing at her eyes. It's sad how his heart lacks the pain it should be feeling right now. "I don't know, I just think…. I think it would be good for you." They both have a bad habit of repeating themselves.
He turns to look at the skyline, the lights that are still flashing and the parade that is marching downtown. He doesn't remember the holiday. "You love people," he begins, "and then you love someone, and I didn't know how to do either of those things."
"And?"
"And I tried loving her, the way that one person is supposed to be, and I couldn't."
Boa sighs, using both her hands to hold on to his one. "Loving someone isn't a job, you know. It's supposed to come naturally."
Jaejoong shakes his head, closing his eyes. Her breathing is rugged and he wonders who it's become easier for, after all this time. "I don't know how to give it otherwise." Boa finds it kind of heartbreaking, but neither of them have to say anything to know that.
She's wearing white. It's the first thing he notices, face turned to the mirror, expensive-looking sunglasses and her hands in her lap, a white lace dress loosely hugging her body. Changmin's not with her. That's the second.
Jaejoong stops in front of the table she is sitting at, and she smiles before turning to look at him. "Where's your guardian?"
"Jaejoong…"
Her smile falls and he smirks, dragging the wooden chair backwards. The screeching sound makes her wince and he wishes he knew how to stop. "It was just a question."
Yoona pulls her sunglasses up on her head and leans forward, hands fiddling with the utensils in front of her. "He though me and you would like to talk alone. Would you like anything to drink? Coffee?"
He snorts and sits back against his chair. "Is this what you called me out here for? To offer me a drink?"
Yoona sighs. "No."
"Then?"
"I…" Her head drops and her fingers stop. "I don't know."
Jaejoong leans forward and the space on the table is too small for the both of them. His hands are dangerously near brushing hers but she seems to be in no hurry to move them away, and the thoughts swimming inside his head are the ones that got him into this mess in the first place. "I can't stop."
"Jaejoong…"
"No, I can't. It's, I don't know, it's like some constant reminder. You'll never be healed and I won't ever, I won't ever forget this, and it's this cycle of just… I don't know, I don't fucking know. I can't forget. I can't stop. I can't fucking do anything."
Her hand inches closer to his and he finds himself backing away, further and further back until he thinks he might be able to see behind himself. "I'm fine, Jaejoong, stop thinking like that-"
"Well I'm not fine, Yoona!" Yoona looks up at him, then, eyes wet and and unbroken, and this is what he was afraid of. "I can't - I shouldn't even be here, I have to go." He pushes his chair back and stands up, and suddenly her hold is on him. "Don't fucking touch me!"
"Jaejoong, wait!"
"Just don't - don't say my name." He shrugs her arm off and shakes his head, stumbling forward until he sees the glass door entrance. He feels Yoona staring at him and he pushes at the door, trudging ahead until he thinks he might finally be far enough to not go back. Jaejoong leaves her alone in the cafe and he doesn't think he'll ever stop hurting her.
It isn't winter anymore, Jaejoong thinks.
It is the end of May, the second year (alone).
Boa is in the kitchen, brewing coffee, Jaejoong leaning against the counter and flipping through the calendar. The days blend into weeks, the weeks into months, and then he can't tell the seasons apart anymore, but winter has been long gone and he finds that kind of sad.
It is her birthday and he doesn't know why he still remembers.
"Do you want her here?" she says, suddenly. "With you?"
Jaejoong thinks he forgets her every day. Every passing day, he thinks he's wiped away the memory of her, and he is finally living in the present and Boa in his arms is enough for the both of them. Every day, Jaejoong tells himself, he has forgotten her.
He doesn't respond, Boa's stare on him heavy, and it's like it always was.
"God, Jaejoong, you just-" She throws the platter in her hand to the floor, and he doesn't wince when it breaks into pieces, the sound emitting loud and painful. "Do you see that?" Jaejoong looks up and there are glass shards everywhere, scattered across the tile floor. "That's you, Jaejoong. That's you, fucking around with everyone that tries to help."
"Then clean it up or leave it alone."
Boa sighs, and it takes all the energy he has to look up at her, not wipe the tears that are collecting at her eyes. "It keeps breaking." She looks up at him, smiling bitterly, and then bends down to collect the pieces. "How do you expect me to stop?"
Jaejoong leaves to bed early and Boa crawls under the comforters an hour after him, her right hand bandaged and healed better than the rest of her.
Boa is home by the time he comes back from his meeting with Yoona.
He pushes open the door and she is dropping her bag on the counter, slumped shoulders and tired eyes when she turns to look at him. Jaejoong stumbles towards her and grabs her face, pulling her in for a kiss and not letting go until she pushes him away. "What are you doing-"
"Jus-just let me…." He kisses her again, slipping his tongue between her lips and fighting for what he's always told himself was his. His lips trail down to her jawline and he presses kisses all against her skin, not stopping until he he is past her neck and to her collarbone, nipping and kissing and telling himself it is okay. "I don't - I don't need her," he mumbles, "I don't love her, I only," his lips are back up to her own, now, and her hands are running through his hair, "I only need you."
She pulls back, finally, and her lips are a blistering red color. "Jaejoong."
"Boa, I promise you, I - I know now."
"Jaejoong," she says again, and she smiles at him, one hand around his neck and another tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. "I feel like - like I'm being forced to hold on now."
He leans in and kisses her, tightening his grip around her waist, and both of her arms are around his neck when he finally lets her know. "Don't let go of me now," he whispers, lips still against hers. "Not yet."
It had been a good night. Boa curled in his arms, head on his chest, warmth and a feeling of belonging and maybe what they were doing was alright. The wind is blowing outside and the chimes are singing and it had been a good night.
"There's a healing process, you know," she whispers, and Jaejoong smiles, pulling her in closer. "You don't have to get over it all at once."
"Telling you would probably hurt you," he says, as if he hasn't already.
Boa laughs and he can feels the wetness of her pretty tears against his skin, cold and sensitive like the whole of their relationship. "It doesn't matter if I'm breaking when you're already broken," she replies, and later she falls asleep in his arms in ugly pieces.
Even if they are far from beautiful, at least they are together, Jaejoong thinks. That should count for something.
Yoona calls him a week later over dinner, homemade and a little overcooked. Jaejoong glances at his phone once and then leaves it vibrating in his pocket, a constant reminder of what he's doing for a straight thirty seconds.
He's just gotten his relationship back on track. Jaejoong is not about to screw it up again.
Boa glances up, fork in her hand, and raises a questioning eyebrow. "What was that about?" He shakes his head and she doesn't push it, but the presence of it is still there and he has done it again.
"Im Yoo-" Jaejoong takes his phone out of his pocket, opening it and going straight to the missed calls, her name written in neat block letters on the screen in an angry red color. "Im fucking Yoo-," he stops again, managing only that through closed teeth, and he throws his phone to floor. Boa winces as it cracks into little pieces, bits of glass and metal flooding the wooden floor. "That's what that was about. Im fucking Yoona."
Jaejoong pushes his chair back and doesn't finish appreciating Boa's hard work. He's already fucked up, anyways.
(jaejoong sneaks boa's phone out of her purse later that night, and he dials familiar numbers on a screen keyboard, holding the phone up against his ear when he hits the deadly call button. the ringing tone doesn't match the pounding of his heart and he has her number imprinted on his heart like the rest of her selfless being.
she picks up right before it goes to voicemail and her whisper tells him she isn't supposed to be doing this either.
"jaejoong." he likes the way she says his name, still.
he takes in a deep breath and tries not to let it show. "why did you call?"
"i just…" she stops, and he shudders, hand shaking and heart breaking. pretty rhymes he didn't know he could make but they hurt him anyways. "we aren't." she stops again and he knows what she is going to say this time. "we aren't each others."
"yoona-"
"we are no longer each other's, kim jaejoong," she says again.
he's known that for three years, a constant reminder to the back of his mind when boa holds his hand and it is not yoona and he loves her anyways, pretends that there is nothing wrong with imagining and changmin wasn't ever part of the picture. she's known for that for the same three years too.
he smiles and he wonders if his outer being is as ugly as his inner one. there's some sort of satisfaction in knowing that he hangs up first, and he slips boa's phone back into her purse when he thinks she was never looking.
boa sits on the staircase, fist to her mouth, tears in her eyes. she wonders who she is crying for.)
Boa likes anniversary dinners and the little things. They're sitting at the counter, lights almost off with a vanilla-scented candle at the center of the table, plum red wine and a five course meal she hasn't taken to the trouble of making.
There's a record spinning on their record player and she's done herself up, hair off to one side and lips slicked neatly with red lipstick. She's wearing gloves and a black dress and Jaejoong thinks she looks prettier with her hair loose, no makeup just like she is in the morning, but he kisses her anyways and ignores the way the red color rubs on to his own lips. "You look beautiful," he whispers, and Jaejoong thinks it's worth it, the way she smiles and pulls him to the table.
It's a pretty song playing, Jaejoong thinks. Unfitting for the occasion, but beautiful anyways.
She isn't talking and so he listens to the lyrics instead, of one sided love and the ugly feelings that can't be pushed down, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tasted better than this.
Boa is tipsy when the time comes around to clean up, and Jaejoong pulls her out of the chair, into their bedroom where he slips all the pins out of her hair and kisses the lipstick off of her.
The taint to her cheeks is natural, then, and Jaejoong still thinks peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are better.
"She left."
Jaejoong doesn't answer. His eyes stay glued to his phone screen, but the words blur in front of him suddenly and Boa's warm arm around his shoulder doesn't do anything but prove a mild distraction. "She left, Jaejoong," Boa says again, and he turns towards her.
"Yeah. I heard you the first time."
He stands up and she doesn't foliow after him, and even after all these years Boa knows what's best for him better than he does.
Jaejoong goes upstairs and heads straight for his wallet, pulling out the picture of Yoona, heavy in his hands. He stares into her eyes and pretends she is now the same girl she was when she was fifteen, innocent and just as beautiful as she was then. He stares at her picture, and there are no tears left.
He rips the card stock in half, and then half again, continuing until the photo remains a litter of paper in his hands, and he lets it fall to the floor.
The cracks fall apart, stitches he has spent years sowing up together. Jaejoong doesn't know if he wants them fixed anymore.
The cigarette is heavier than it was the first time he ever picked it up. Jaejoong pulls out his lighter, lighting the end of it and admiring the way the smoke curls up in waves, and the scent is relaxing, familiar.
He walks down the stairs from the apartment, one step ahead of another, trudging forwards, and by the time he reaches the beach, he's gone through four cigarettes and his head feels light and empty. Jaejoong takes a seat at the end of the pier, the wooden legs swaying lightly from the harsh winds, and it settles as soon as the sun begins disappearing from view, warm colors littering the extent of the sky.
His love for her disappears as the sun sets, and he waits for the colors to fade away, beautiful and never lasting long enough.
It will rise again in the morning but Jaejoong thinks he might have finally buried it to rest, and the waves crashing against the shore, drops of water hitting his feet, they are endless like his love for Boa.
He lights another cigarette and breathes in naturally, letting the smoke settle and blow away, and he stubs it out against the wooden planks when the sun is gone and the waves are still pushing forward.
Jaejoong lets out a heavy sigh and throws the cigarette packet away when he leaves the beach.
When he comes home, Boa is sleeping on the couch, a light blanket drawn out over her arms. The yellow lamp casts a dim glow across her tan face, make up not removed from her work day and the lipstick smudged slightly at the corner of her lips. She doesn't look glamorous or beautiful - she just looks plain, and Jaejoong smiles.
He lifts her up, warm in his arms (like yoona never was) and carries her upstairs to their bedroom, tucking her under the covers and pretending he doesn't notice how one side of her mouth twitches and maybe she wasn't expecting him to come home.
He joins her once all the lights are off, the doors locked, and it finally feels like a home, this tight space with just the two of them, living only for each other now.
Jaejoong wraps his arm around her and he thinks maybe he knows how to love her now.
"I think I finally get it."
Boa turns to him, waves of hair framing her face and he likes the way she smiles at him, quirking her lips and the petty expression. "Get what?"
"I'm - we're each other's."
She tightens her grip on his hand, legs swinging through the balcony rails, the Osaka skyline shining beautifully, and Jaejoong loves her. He loves her, now, loves her like he didn't love her before, and there is finally a happy ending to the tragic finity he didn't think would ever end.
Boa leans her head against his shoulder, movements eased and practiced because this is nothing short of remembrance. "I'm just attempting to fill in the cracks," she whispers, pressing her lips against his chest, beating heart thundering and her fingers fit in between his because they were meant to be.
He doesn't look back after that.
requests of the day
sekai
gdragon/cl
seohyun/lee won geun
seohyun
in general
yessss