#31 Maybe Tonight
Title: Maybe Tonight
Author: twilight_ave
Pairing: Jaejoong x Yoochun
Rating: PG, for some words and Yoochun’s not so happy thoughts
Summary: Yoochun leans out into the steel railing, doesn’t forget that he’s standing 25 floors too high, too far from the ground, and smiles.
Thinks, maybe, just maybe, this’ll be a grand time to fly.
A/N: So I haven’t written anything for a while and then this came out a few weeks ago. Randomly. And well, I tried to make it as coherent (and not all angsty) as possible ^^;
Yoochun leans out into the steel railing, thinks more, just a little bit more, pressing closer into the edge, doesn’t forget that he’s standing 25 floors too high, too far from the ground, and smiles.
Thinks, maybe, just maybe, this’ll be a grand time to fly. Watches the endless glimmer of too far away stars and thinks of those that burn out and die on themselves, wonders if they know, if there are bittersweet farewells (fellow stars saying goodbye, goodbye and I love you and oh god, goodbye), and that silent inexplicable joy of finally, finally, finally.
If it’s anything like standing too far above the ledge and letting go, suddenly, completely, hands stretched out wide and open, into a dream of something more.
Something worth so much more than this, he wants to believe. And watches the narrow slope downwards, thinking, this shouldn’t be too bad, no, ‘no, not at all’, the voice whispers like sweet nicotine smoke trailing a soft burn into the recess of his memories.
(like the taste of flushed flesh gasping for breath, straining under his touch, the flash of desire, temptation for a price, Jaejoong blows into his ear, all dirt blonde hair and today - now, forever - in a kiss)
The wind picks up and Yoochun imagines leaping into that frozen eternity. Of silence, such blissful silence, of an end so close to touch that he strains in closer, so much alive once again.
“It’s not going to last for more than a minute, Hyung”, Changmin voices out, disinterested, trying so hard to make sense of the blur of a homework in front of him that he doesn’t see the flash of excitement unfurling itself inside of Yoochun.
Numbed out sensations coming alive for a final concerto.
Come watch us. Come see. Come see.
Come join us for this last dance.
How much? How much?
How about everything?
Yes, yes! Everything, everything that you’ve got
and more.
He knows, of course, knows the taste of blood, gravel and bones that’ll follow the fall, knows only too well, and (“damnit! what a goddamn price to pay”, Yunho curses out of nature, too tired to care) still, thinks of that one suspended second, and breathes a little easier (he’s been having some problems with that lately).
“That’s because you won’t quit smoking, you idiot” The words come with a smile, an embrace, the softest brush of lips between too tired shoulder blades before Junsu falls so quiet that Yoochun thinks he’s fallen asleep like that, wrapped around his back, and waits for Jaejoong to come and find them.
For all the wounds to be tended.
He’s not suicidal, really, no no, not at all, stares ahead into the vast emptiness enveloping the night, at all the tiny sparks of life pulsing into the city down below, so far below, and laughs to himself, alright ,conceding, maybe, maybe, just a little.
Maybe, Yoochun keeps on thinking, maybe, when everything else gets too loud, too noisy, too fucking much, and the night finds him pressing against the abyss over and over again.
Maybe tonight.
Only -
“I thought I’d find you here”
Jaejoong keeps on catching him, words like fingers like all the hopeful promises of tomorrow lacing themselves back into the heat of his palm, even though he never left.
Not really, no.
Only Jaejoong folds himself into Yoochun’s embrace and he thinks, maybe, maybe, he’s listening to the telltale whispers of his blabbering heart because Jaejoong doesn’t say a word, not a single thing.
And Yoochun wakes up a little earlier the next day to a sleeping Jaejoong, all dirt blonde hair and now, forever, holding on to his hand.