bruises; jaejoong/junsu
Bruises
Jaejoong/Junsu; PG-13; 2616 w.
Maybe they were both a little jealous of each other, but they’d never admit it. Jealousy was what lay beneath the biting insults and hurled punches, what Junsu told himself he was not.
Jaejoong was smoking outside when Junsu spoke to him.
“I hate you, you know.” His voice was rasp.
Jaejoong did not turn. He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray propped precariously between the wall and the railing.
“I know.”
“You smell like death,” Junsu continued.
“I didn’t know death had a scent,” Jaejoong said, still not looking at him.
“I’m speaking to you,” Junsu snarled. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
Jaejoong scoffed and lifted his cigarette. “Wouldn’t you rather not look at my face?” Jaejoong asked. “So you can pretend I don’t exist?”
“Shut up,” Junsu snapped.
“I thought you wanted to talk to me.”
He looked like he wanted to punch Jaejoong in the face. “Put out that cigarette,” Junsu said instead. “Don’t you know smoking is bad for you?”
“I didn’t think you cared for my health,” Jaejoong said offhandedly. “Wouldn’t you rather I damage my lungs and die? Or better yet, lose my voice, so you can take my spot? So I’d know how you feel?”
“Shut up!” Junsu snarled. “You don’t know anything!”
“So you say.”
“I hate you!” Junsu shrieked, then clamped his hand to his throat and rasped out much quieter, “I don’t give a shit about your health! But you sit there, smoking your stupid cigarette, destroying your voice like you don’t even care! You don’t deserve this!”
“Don’t I?” Jaejoong remarked, finally turning to pierce him with an angry gaze. “You sit there and act like you’re special, like you’re going to get somewhere with that broken voice, like anyone gives a shit that you’ve been here longer than I have. Like you’re better than me.”
“I am better than you!”
“No, you’re not!” Jaejoong shrieked, tossing his cigarette to the ground. “You’re just a kid with a broken voice. No one cares!”
Junsu bit his lip. “They would have chosen me, did you know? You’re just the back-up.”
Jaejoong reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. “Keep telling yourself that. They chose me, not you.”
Foolishly, Junsu continued, “Once my voice gets better, they’ll choose me.”
Jaejoong remained silent as he lit up his new cigarette.
“Don’t ignore me,” Junsu rasped. “They’ll throw you away.”
“Sorry,” Jaejoong replied condescendingly. “I can’t hear you. And I’m not the one with the broken voice. Why would they throw me away?”
Junsu sat down and rested against the wall. “I hate you.”
Jaejoong spared him a fleeting glance. He could see the remnants of years of frustration and tears echoing in a childish face. It almost made him feel bad.
“Do you know what it’s like to be addicted to something?” Jaejoong asked quietly, leaning against the wall. “To want to stop but be unable to? I know smoking is bad for me, but I can’t stop.”
Junsu looked pensive. “I know what it’s like to try,” he finally said. “If you can’t quit, you don’t want it enough.”
“Is that why your voice is still broken?” Jaejoong asked cruelly. “Because you don’t want it enough?”
“Shut up,” Junsu replied sharply. “What do you know?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jaejoong said curtly. “But I already know the answer: nothing.”
“I hate you,” Junsu said again.
“Shut up already,” Jaejoong snapped. “I know.”
“Then why don’t you get it?” Junsu rasped. “Why won’t you go away?”
Jaejoong glanced down at him angrily, eyes narrowed. “Why should I? I have as much a right to be here as you.”
Junsu clenched his fist. “Why do you have to be in our group?”
The older boy put out his cigarette with a flourish. “I’m getting really tired of you,” he said. “Leave me alone.”
“I don’t want to,” Junsu said petulantly.
Jaejoong leaned down, grabbed a fistful of Junsu’s shirt, and hauled him to his feet. “It wasn’t a request.”
“What are you going to do?” Junsu asked with narrowed eyes.
Before he could blink, Jaejoong punched him in the mouth. Junsu’s head flung back, and his hand immediately moved to touch his now bleeding lip. The bastard was stronger than he looked.
Snarling, he launched himself at Jaejoong and tackled him to floor, fists flying before they even collided with the ground. Jaejoong rolled them over with strong arms and pinned him down with one arm, the other striking him repeatedly in the face. With a grunt, Junsu kneed Jaejoong in the gut as hard as he could, only feeling a tiny bit sympathetic as Jaejoong groaned with pain, rolling away to clutch his stomach in agony.
Junsu attacked without mercy, throwing fast punches where Jaejoong threw hard ones. Despite his pain, Jaejoong gave as much as he took. He threw his head up and smashed it with Junsu’s, causing Junsu to falter briefly.
Jaejoong took the opportunity to punch Junsu in the mouth again, fist splitting Junsu’s mouth even more. Grabbing Junsu’s arm, he attempted to throw him off when Junsu turned his head suddenly and bit Jaejoong’s wrist sharply. Jaejoong cursed loudly and jerked his arm back.
With an unnatural burst of speed, Jaejoong rolled them over and slammed Junsu’s head against the ground.
Junsu gasped in pain, spots flying before his vision. His hands went lax, leaving him open to Jaejoong’s fists. He struggled briefly to fight back, but Jaejoong was too strong.
For a moment, he was afraid Jaejoong would kill him, but it passed quickly when Jaejoong’s weight suddenly left him.
He looked up with bleary eyes to see Yunho and Yoochun restraining a wild Jaejoong, whose face and chest were covered in blood he knew was probably his own.
Changmin and their manager approached him carefully, swimming in Junsu’s vision.
“I think he’s concussed,” Changmin said after a minute. “Someone call an ambulance.”
“Asshole,” Junsu coughed weakly at Jaejoong, who still kicked and screamed as the others held him back. His eyes fluttered for a moment.
“Shit, Junsu, don’t close your eyes!” his manager cursed. “Stay awake!”
But Junsu’s vision swam for one last time before he fell unconscious.
--
When Junsu woke up, he was in a hospital bed, with his mother resting her head against their linked hands.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped quietly. She didn’t move. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make you proud.”
“We’re very proud,” a small voice said.
He almost yelped in fright, turning his head to the other side. His father and his brother sat together, solemn with worry.
His father continued. “Whatever you do, Junsu, we will always be proud of you. You are our son, our family.” Junho nodded in agreement. “Even if-even if you never sing again, we will always be proud of you.”
Junsu’s vision blurred with tears. “I-I want this more than anything. Why did I have to lose my voice? It’s not fair!”
His father rushed forward to embrace him. The movement woke his mother, whose bleary eyes were red and swollen.
“Oh, Junsu,” she breathed. “You’re alright?”
“Umma,” he choked. “Umma, I’m so sorry.”
She moved to sit up on the bed and gently caressed his cheek.
“Whatever for?” she asked quietly, offering him a beautiful, sad smile.
“I let you down,” he sobbed. “Jaejoong was right: I can’t sing anymore.”
“Don’t you say that,” she scolded softly. “You can do whatever you want to do. Never give up, do you understand?”
He nodded sadly, then winced and lifted a hand to his head to feel it wrapped up.
“They had to give you stitches,” his mother explained. “You had a concussion.”
“Oh,” Junsu said. He blinked up at the ceiling, finally lifting his arm to wipe away his tears. “Am I in trouble?” he asked.
“They said they might delay your debut,” she admitted. When she saw his stricken expression, she said quickly, “Don’t think of it that way. This’ll give you time to work on your voice.”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
The door opened, and Yunho and Changmin stepped inside. They bowed respectfully to his parents before approaching him.
“How are you doing?” Yunho asked.
“Fine,” Junsu said shortly. “I’m sorry for fighting with Jaejoong.”
“It’s okay,” Yunho assured. “At least one of you is.”
Junsu’s lips thinned.
“I hate to say this, Junsu,” Yunho continued. “But you two are going to have to get past your differences. We have to be a group whether or not we like it.”
“I know,” Junsu said softly. “But it’s hard.”
Changmin offered him a shy, hesitant smile as Yunho leaned over and gently patted his hand. “We’ll be here to help you,” he said.
“Thanks, hyung.”
Yunho smiled at him carefully. “We’ll see you later,” he said. “Get better.”
“Yeah,” Junsu replied. “Okay.”
--
Their meeting was supervised, though Junsu really wished it wouldn’t be. Some things he just didn’t want others to hear.
Jaejoong offered him a short, concise apology, which Junsu returned quietly. Neither of them really meant it, but it placated the others enough to stop hovering protectively over them, ready at a moment’s notice to pull them apart.
“Can we have a moment?” Junsu asked. His voice was still aching, fragile.
Yunho looked hesitant, but Yoochun and Changmin tugged him away.
“I’m only a little bit sorry,” Junsu admitted after a moment.
“I’m not at all,” Jaejoong said bluntly. “You deserved it.”
Junsu had to bite his lip and clench his fists to hold himself back. “This is why I don’t like you,” he snapped. “Maybe you should stop being so much of a jerk, and I’d stop hating you.”
Jaejoong made an irritated sound and reached for a cigarette. “Like I care what you think,” he said succinctly, lighting up.
“Why are you making this so difficult!?” Junsu snarled. “I’m trying to fix this. I care about my future.”
“I’m not the only one being an asshole,” Jaejoong pointed out. “You still think you’re better than me, that they’ll let you be lead when you can barely even sing.”
“It’s getting better,” Junsu argued.
“Sure,” Jaejoong agreed. “But it’s not going to be as good as mine.”
Junsu looked away. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Jaejoong said.
Junsu bit his lip. “You should really stop smoking,” he said.
“Probably.”
“I-I’ll help you quit,” Junsu offered shyly. “If you… help me sing.”
Jaejoong considered him for a moment. “How could you get me to quit?”
Junsu stood up quickly and sharply pulled the cigarette out of his fingers, putting it out in the ashtray. “Give me your cigarettes.”
Jaejoong looked offended. “How about no.”
Snarling, Junsu leapt over the table and tackled Jaejoong into the sofa. Jaejoong almost hit him before he realized Junsu was digging through his pockets angrily.
“Hey!” he shouted. “Stop it!” Futilely, he tried to pry Junsu’s hands away, but Junsu was too quick.
He jumped off of Jaejoong with the pack in one hand. The door burst open at the same time that Jaejoong leapt to his feet. Yunho stared at them for a long moment before Junsu dashed off with Jaejoong’s cigarettes in hand and Jaejoong in close pursuit.
“You bitch!” Jaejoong snarled. “Give them back!”
Junsu was confident Jaejoong wouldn’t catch him. He was a football player, after all. He darted into the bathroom and tossed the pack into the toilet.
By the time Jaejoong, and Yunho, caught up to him, Junsu was flushing the toilet happily.
“You bastard!” Jaejoong shrieked. Yunho quickly restrained him.
“It’s for your own good,” Junsu said solemnly. “You’ll thank me for this one day.”
“Shut up, mute,” Jaejoong snarled, throwing Yunho’s hands off of him. He stalked out angrily, his fingers twitching for a cigarette that wasn’t there.
Yunho watched him pensively. They heard Yoochun ask Jaejoong where he was going, and the older man’s curt reply, “To get some fucking cigarettes!”
Junsu smiled at Yunho weakly. “Sorry, hyung,” he offered.
Yunho sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.
“When do I?” Junsu asked shyly.
Yunho grunted in reply.
--
Junsu sang with all his heart. He sang and sang and sang until he could sing no more, and even then he tried to sing. Yunho would pat him comfortingly on the shoulder, and Junsu would ignore his presence because he was trying, but it wasn’t getting any better, and he would rather die than give up.
And more than ever, he was envious of the easy way that Jaejoong sang and jealous of how good he sounded. It should have been him.
True to his word, every time Jaejoong tried to light up a cigarette, Junsu would tear it away from him angrily, much to Jaejoong’s chagrin. Several times, Jaejoong even tried to attack Junsu, but Junsu was light on his feet and quick enough to dodge angry punches when he wasn’t blind with rage.
As the weeks passed by, Jaejoong lit up less and less, though Junsu half-suspected he did it in secret, where Junsu couldn’t take them away.
“Hey,” Jaejoong protested as Junsu snatched away his cigarette and tossed it off the balcony. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to light it. “This is getting kind of annoying.”
Junsu smiled at him. “Yeah, well, you’ll thank me someday.”
“You keep saying that,” Jaejoong muttered. “But I don’t feel thankful at all.”
Junsu sat down next to him.
“Sing something for me,” Jaejoong said suddenly.
Junsu didn’t hesitate, soft notes falling off his tongue huskily. It didn’t sound the same to him. He didn’t think it ever would.
“You know,” Jaejoong mused when he was finished, “It doesn’t sound that bad. It’s not the same as your voice before, but it kind of fits you.”
“Is that a compliment?” Junsu asked.
“Of course not,” Jaejoong deadpanned. “Just saying.”
“Oh, right,” Junsu acknowledged.
“Sing something else,” Jaejoong prompted. “Sing our song.”
Junsu opened his mouth and sang, even though his voice was hoarse from hours of singing, hours of pushing himself as hard as he could. Jaejoong looked thoughtful as he listened, fingers tapping away idly against his thigh.
Suddenly, he opened his mouth and harmonized with Junsu, filling in the gaps his voice couldn’t quite fill. Junsu looked almost surprised; his voice fluttered for a moment before he continued.
Jaejoong’s voice was quite nice, though he’d never ever admit it. Against the lull of Jaejoong’s voice, he thought his own sounded almost nice, almost acceptable.
He cut himself off abruptly, turning his face away.
“I don’t think I need to help you,” Jaejoong said quietly, sliding down the wall next to Junsu. “I think you’re the only one who doesn’t like your new voice.”
“Of course I don’t like it!” Junsu snapped. “It’s not good enough!”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so melodramatic,” he chastised. “I’ll quit smoking only if you promise me you’ll sing with me.”
Junsu looked hesitant. “Why?”
“Because if you won’t realize your voice is beautiful,” Jaejoong said firmly. “I’ll make you sing until you do.”
“Shut up,” Junsu said, though it lacked real fire.
Jaejoong grinned, and for a moment Junsu thought he looked kind of beautiful. “Don’t you like my voice?” Jaejoong asked playfully, nudging Junsu with his hip.
“I guess it’s alright,” Junsu admitted reluctantly, though it was betrayed by his easy-going smile.
Jaejoong placed his palm on Junsu’s knee. “It’ll be alright,” he said quietly, suddenly serious. “Your voice is still amazing.”
Junsu looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks, hyung.”
Jaejoong’s smile was soft and meaningful, and it was the first time Junsu had seen something other than anger and nonchalance.
“Smoking is still bad for you,” Junsu said abruptly.
Jaejoong laughed. “Yeah, but you’ll help me quit, right?”
Junsu smiled. “Right.”
Jaejoong/Junsu; PG-13; 2616 w.
Maybe they were both a little jealous of each other, but they’d never admit it. Jealousy was what lay beneath the biting insults and hurled punches, what Junsu told himself he was not.
Jaejoong was smoking outside when Junsu spoke to him.
“I hate you, you know.” His voice was rasp.
Jaejoong did not turn. He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray propped precariously between the wall and the railing.
“I know.”
“You smell like death,” Junsu continued.
“I didn’t know death had a scent,” Jaejoong said, still not looking at him.
“I’m speaking to you,” Junsu snarled. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
Jaejoong scoffed and lifted his cigarette. “Wouldn’t you rather not look at my face?” Jaejoong asked. “So you can pretend I don’t exist?”
“Shut up,” Junsu snapped.
“I thought you wanted to talk to me.”
He looked like he wanted to punch Jaejoong in the face. “Put out that cigarette,” Junsu said instead. “Don’t you know smoking is bad for you?”
“I didn’t think you cared for my health,” Jaejoong said offhandedly. “Wouldn’t you rather I damage my lungs and die? Or better yet, lose my voice, so you can take my spot? So I’d know how you feel?”
“Shut up!” Junsu snarled. “You don’t know anything!”
“So you say.”
“I hate you!” Junsu shrieked, then clamped his hand to his throat and rasped out much quieter, “I don’t give a shit about your health! But you sit there, smoking your stupid cigarette, destroying your voice like you don’t even care! You don’t deserve this!”
“Don’t I?” Jaejoong remarked, finally turning to pierce him with an angry gaze. “You sit there and act like you’re special, like you’re going to get somewhere with that broken voice, like anyone gives a shit that you’ve been here longer than I have. Like you’re better than me.”
“I am better than you!”
“No, you’re not!” Jaejoong shrieked, tossing his cigarette to the ground. “You’re just a kid with a broken voice. No one cares!”
Junsu bit his lip. “They would have chosen me, did you know? You’re just the back-up.”
Jaejoong reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. “Keep telling yourself that. They chose me, not you.”
Foolishly, Junsu continued, “Once my voice gets better, they’ll choose me.”
Jaejoong remained silent as he lit up his new cigarette.
“Don’t ignore me,” Junsu rasped. “They’ll throw you away.”
“Sorry,” Jaejoong replied condescendingly. “I can’t hear you. And I’m not the one with the broken voice. Why would they throw me away?”
Junsu sat down and rested against the wall. “I hate you.”
Jaejoong spared him a fleeting glance. He could see the remnants of years of frustration and tears echoing in a childish face. It almost made him feel bad.
“Do you know what it’s like to be addicted to something?” Jaejoong asked quietly, leaning against the wall. “To want to stop but be unable to? I know smoking is bad for me, but I can’t stop.”
Junsu looked pensive. “I know what it’s like to try,” he finally said. “If you can’t quit, you don’t want it enough.”
“Is that why your voice is still broken?” Jaejoong asked cruelly. “Because you don’t want it enough?”
“Shut up,” Junsu replied sharply. “What do you know?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jaejoong said curtly. “But I already know the answer: nothing.”
“I hate you,” Junsu said again.
“Shut up already,” Jaejoong snapped. “I know.”
“Then why don’t you get it?” Junsu rasped. “Why won’t you go away?”
Jaejoong glanced down at him angrily, eyes narrowed. “Why should I? I have as much a right to be here as you.”
Junsu clenched his fist. “Why do you have to be in our group?”
The older boy put out his cigarette with a flourish. “I’m getting really tired of you,” he said. “Leave me alone.”
“I don’t want to,” Junsu said petulantly.
Jaejoong leaned down, grabbed a fistful of Junsu’s shirt, and hauled him to his feet. “It wasn’t a request.”
“What are you going to do?” Junsu asked with narrowed eyes.
Before he could blink, Jaejoong punched him in the mouth. Junsu’s head flung back, and his hand immediately moved to touch his now bleeding lip. The bastard was stronger than he looked.
Snarling, he launched himself at Jaejoong and tackled him to floor, fists flying before they even collided with the ground. Jaejoong rolled them over with strong arms and pinned him down with one arm, the other striking him repeatedly in the face. With a grunt, Junsu kneed Jaejoong in the gut as hard as he could, only feeling a tiny bit sympathetic as Jaejoong groaned with pain, rolling away to clutch his stomach in agony.
Junsu attacked without mercy, throwing fast punches where Jaejoong threw hard ones. Despite his pain, Jaejoong gave as much as he took. He threw his head up and smashed it with Junsu’s, causing Junsu to falter briefly.
Jaejoong took the opportunity to punch Junsu in the mouth again, fist splitting Junsu’s mouth even more. Grabbing Junsu’s arm, he attempted to throw him off when Junsu turned his head suddenly and bit Jaejoong’s wrist sharply. Jaejoong cursed loudly and jerked his arm back.
With an unnatural burst of speed, Jaejoong rolled them over and slammed Junsu’s head against the ground.
Junsu gasped in pain, spots flying before his vision. His hands went lax, leaving him open to Jaejoong’s fists. He struggled briefly to fight back, but Jaejoong was too strong.
For a moment, he was afraid Jaejoong would kill him, but it passed quickly when Jaejoong’s weight suddenly left him.
He looked up with bleary eyes to see Yunho and Yoochun restraining a wild Jaejoong, whose face and chest were covered in blood he knew was probably his own.
Changmin and their manager approached him carefully, swimming in Junsu’s vision.
“I think he’s concussed,” Changmin said after a minute. “Someone call an ambulance.”
“Asshole,” Junsu coughed weakly at Jaejoong, who still kicked and screamed as the others held him back. His eyes fluttered for a moment.
“Shit, Junsu, don’t close your eyes!” his manager cursed. “Stay awake!”
But Junsu’s vision swam for one last time before he fell unconscious.
--
When Junsu woke up, he was in a hospital bed, with his mother resting her head against their linked hands.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped quietly. She didn’t move. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make you proud.”
“We’re very proud,” a small voice said.
He almost yelped in fright, turning his head to the other side. His father and his brother sat together, solemn with worry.
His father continued. “Whatever you do, Junsu, we will always be proud of you. You are our son, our family.” Junho nodded in agreement. “Even if-even if you never sing again, we will always be proud of you.”
Junsu’s vision blurred with tears. “I-I want this more than anything. Why did I have to lose my voice? It’s not fair!”
His father rushed forward to embrace him. The movement woke his mother, whose bleary eyes were red and swollen.
“Oh, Junsu,” she breathed. “You’re alright?”
“Umma,” he choked. “Umma, I’m so sorry.”
She moved to sit up on the bed and gently caressed his cheek.
“Whatever for?” she asked quietly, offering him a beautiful, sad smile.
“I let you down,” he sobbed. “Jaejoong was right: I can’t sing anymore.”
“Don’t you say that,” she scolded softly. “You can do whatever you want to do. Never give up, do you understand?”
He nodded sadly, then winced and lifted a hand to his head to feel it wrapped up.
“They had to give you stitches,” his mother explained. “You had a concussion.”
“Oh,” Junsu said. He blinked up at the ceiling, finally lifting his arm to wipe away his tears. “Am I in trouble?” he asked.
“They said they might delay your debut,” she admitted. When she saw his stricken expression, she said quickly, “Don’t think of it that way. This’ll give you time to work on your voice.”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
The door opened, and Yunho and Changmin stepped inside. They bowed respectfully to his parents before approaching him.
“How are you doing?” Yunho asked.
“Fine,” Junsu said shortly. “I’m sorry for fighting with Jaejoong.”
“It’s okay,” Yunho assured. “At least one of you is.”
Junsu’s lips thinned.
“I hate to say this, Junsu,” Yunho continued. “But you two are going to have to get past your differences. We have to be a group whether or not we like it.”
“I know,” Junsu said softly. “But it’s hard.”
Changmin offered him a shy, hesitant smile as Yunho leaned over and gently patted his hand. “We’ll be here to help you,” he said.
“Thanks, hyung.”
Yunho smiled at him carefully. “We’ll see you later,” he said. “Get better.”
“Yeah,” Junsu replied. “Okay.”
--
Their meeting was supervised, though Junsu really wished it wouldn’t be. Some things he just didn’t want others to hear.
Jaejoong offered him a short, concise apology, which Junsu returned quietly. Neither of them really meant it, but it placated the others enough to stop hovering protectively over them, ready at a moment’s notice to pull them apart.
“Can we have a moment?” Junsu asked. His voice was still aching, fragile.
Yunho looked hesitant, but Yoochun and Changmin tugged him away.
“I’m only a little bit sorry,” Junsu admitted after a moment.
“I’m not at all,” Jaejoong said bluntly. “You deserved it.”
Junsu had to bite his lip and clench his fists to hold himself back. “This is why I don’t like you,” he snapped. “Maybe you should stop being so much of a jerk, and I’d stop hating you.”
Jaejoong made an irritated sound and reached for a cigarette. “Like I care what you think,” he said succinctly, lighting up.
“Why are you making this so difficult!?” Junsu snarled. “I’m trying to fix this. I care about my future.”
“I’m not the only one being an asshole,” Jaejoong pointed out. “You still think you’re better than me, that they’ll let you be lead when you can barely even sing.”
“It’s getting better,” Junsu argued.
“Sure,” Jaejoong agreed. “But it’s not going to be as good as mine.”
Junsu looked away. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Jaejoong said.
Junsu bit his lip. “You should really stop smoking,” he said.
“Probably.”
“I-I’ll help you quit,” Junsu offered shyly. “If you… help me sing.”
Jaejoong considered him for a moment. “How could you get me to quit?”
Junsu stood up quickly and sharply pulled the cigarette out of his fingers, putting it out in the ashtray. “Give me your cigarettes.”
Jaejoong looked offended. “How about no.”
Snarling, Junsu leapt over the table and tackled Jaejoong into the sofa. Jaejoong almost hit him before he realized Junsu was digging through his pockets angrily.
“Hey!” he shouted. “Stop it!” Futilely, he tried to pry Junsu’s hands away, but Junsu was too quick.
He jumped off of Jaejoong with the pack in one hand. The door burst open at the same time that Jaejoong leapt to his feet. Yunho stared at them for a long moment before Junsu dashed off with Jaejoong’s cigarettes in hand and Jaejoong in close pursuit.
“You bitch!” Jaejoong snarled. “Give them back!”
Junsu was confident Jaejoong wouldn’t catch him. He was a football player, after all. He darted into the bathroom and tossed the pack into the toilet.
By the time Jaejoong, and Yunho, caught up to him, Junsu was flushing the toilet happily.
“You bastard!” Jaejoong shrieked. Yunho quickly restrained him.
“It’s for your own good,” Junsu said solemnly. “You’ll thank me for this one day.”
“Shut up, mute,” Jaejoong snarled, throwing Yunho’s hands off of him. He stalked out angrily, his fingers twitching for a cigarette that wasn’t there.
Yunho watched him pensively. They heard Yoochun ask Jaejoong where he was going, and the older man’s curt reply, “To get some fucking cigarettes!”
Junsu smiled at Yunho weakly. “Sorry, hyung,” he offered.
Yunho sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.
“When do I?” Junsu asked shyly.
Yunho grunted in reply.
--
Junsu sang with all his heart. He sang and sang and sang until he could sing no more, and even then he tried to sing. Yunho would pat him comfortingly on the shoulder, and Junsu would ignore his presence because he was trying, but it wasn’t getting any better, and he would rather die than give up.
And more than ever, he was envious of the easy way that Jaejoong sang and jealous of how good he sounded. It should have been him.
True to his word, every time Jaejoong tried to light up a cigarette, Junsu would tear it away from him angrily, much to Jaejoong’s chagrin. Several times, Jaejoong even tried to attack Junsu, but Junsu was light on his feet and quick enough to dodge angry punches when he wasn’t blind with rage.
As the weeks passed by, Jaejoong lit up less and less, though Junsu half-suspected he did it in secret, where Junsu couldn’t take them away.
“Hey,” Jaejoong protested as Junsu snatched away his cigarette and tossed it off the balcony. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to light it. “This is getting kind of annoying.”
Junsu smiled at him. “Yeah, well, you’ll thank me someday.”
“You keep saying that,” Jaejoong muttered. “But I don’t feel thankful at all.”
Junsu sat down next to him.
“Sing something for me,” Jaejoong said suddenly.
Junsu didn’t hesitate, soft notes falling off his tongue huskily. It didn’t sound the same to him. He didn’t think it ever would.
“You know,” Jaejoong mused when he was finished, “It doesn’t sound that bad. It’s not the same as your voice before, but it kind of fits you.”
“Is that a compliment?” Junsu asked.
“Of course not,” Jaejoong deadpanned. “Just saying.”
“Oh, right,” Junsu acknowledged.
“Sing something else,” Jaejoong prompted. “Sing our song.”
Junsu opened his mouth and sang, even though his voice was hoarse from hours of singing, hours of pushing himself as hard as he could. Jaejoong looked thoughtful as he listened, fingers tapping away idly against his thigh.
Suddenly, he opened his mouth and harmonized with Junsu, filling in the gaps his voice couldn’t quite fill. Junsu looked almost surprised; his voice fluttered for a moment before he continued.
Jaejoong’s voice was quite nice, though he’d never ever admit it. Against the lull of Jaejoong’s voice, he thought his own sounded almost nice, almost acceptable.
He cut himself off abruptly, turning his face away.
“I don’t think I need to help you,” Jaejoong said quietly, sliding down the wall next to Junsu. “I think you’re the only one who doesn’t like your new voice.”
“Of course I don’t like it!” Junsu snapped. “It’s not good enough!”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so melodramatic,” he chastised. “I’ll quit smoking only if you promise me you’ll sing with me.”
Junsu looked hesitant. “Why?”
“Because if you won’t realize your voice is beautiful,” Jaejoong said firmly. “I’ll make you sing until you do.”
“Shut up,” Junsu said, though it lacked real fire.
Jaejoong grinned, and for a moment Junsu thought he looked kind of beautiful. “Don’t you like my voice?” Jaejoong asked playfully, nudging Junsu with his hip.
“I guess it’s alright,” Junsu admitted reluctantly, though it was betrayed by his easy-going smile.
Jaejoong placed his palm on Junsu’s knee. “It’ll be alright,” he said quietly, suddenly serious. “Your voice is still amazing.”
Junsu looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks, hyung.”
Jaejoong’s smile was soft and meaningful, and it was the first time Junsu had seen something other than anger and nonchalance.
“Smoking is still bad for you,” Junsu said abruptly.
Jaejoong laughed. “Yeah, but you’ll help me quit, right?”
Junsu smiled. “Right.”