Yearning [Oneshot]
Title: Yearning
Pairing(s): JaeMin
Rating: G
Genre: Romance, slight angst
Summary: You're always like that, hiding those things that are important me in that place that's always the same. So today, I'll go there first and wait for you...
That day, Changmin turns left after leaving work.
As usual, it’s about 6PM when he gets out of the small real estate agency where he’s currently employed.
The bus he takes to go back home is always the same, and always arrives around 6:15PM. Every day the same driver, same passengers, and the same silent weariness weighing on the atmosphere. Eight stops. He ordinarily gets off twenty minutes later, next to the shopping mall - which is rather convenient because it’s only five minutes away from home, if he walks fast. Ten if he takes his time.
When he leaves the real estate agency, the bus stop is only a few meters away, on his right. But today, Changmin turns left.
He stopped after stepping out earlier, just one second. Standing still. A vague but abrupt impression of loneliness. Feeling lost. The crowded sidewalk. Cars, people, noise, and a sky so grey it looked like the clouds had turned to stone. It looked old, and resigned. Like the city was rushing forward while heavens were slowing down - disenchanted. A mute SOS spreading wide above his head, “what’s the point” written with only air. Changmin looked up, the time of a heartbeat, of an eye blink. Just the time for something to flutter inside, in a hidden nook of his soul. He turned left.
Now he’s walking straight.
Slow.
On his right, a Chinese restaurant. On his left, a shop selling wedding dresses.
It was a normal day at work. His boss is still functioning on coffee and cigarettes - three packs a day now. His coworker texts her boyfriend every five minutes, and plays games the rest of the time with her phone hidden under the desk. The new intern still panics every time they tell him to answer customers’ calls. Changmin messed up with the printer - again - and his coworker fixed it for him, with a sympathetic tap on the shoulder by way of encouragement. As usual.
As usual.
A normal, uneventful day.
Changmin turns up the collar of his jacket then shoves his hands in his pocket, looking down at his feet. It rained that afternoon. He steps over puddles mechanically, going with the flow of people.
A silly tune is thrumming inside his head; he heard it during lunch break and it hasn’t left since. Always the same few notes, the beginning of a song he knows only vaguely, droning on and on and on. Tirelessly. Neat sounds trickling as if there’s no ending it.
On his right, a hotel. On his left, a phone repair store, and a group of high-school students.
Changmin glances at them as he passes by. They are laughing. Talking animatedly. Teasing each other. That reminds him of days that aren’t so far away, and of that forever-delayed resolve to call his friends of the time. They lost touch during university. There’s nothing strange about it; the same happens for almost everyone.
Life stretches, and stretches, and stretches.
Years pile up, along with encounters and experience. Learning. Searching. Losing. All those things that make children into adults, until that feeling of having so much to discover reaches its highest point. So much to see and so little time. Days brimming with impatience and self-confidence. That’s where life stretches farthest, yearning for the invisible, the unknown, the beyond. The heady sensation of being running, running fast, faster, gathering speed till you’re just an inch away from flying.
And then the feeling fades away. Desires wither. Youth wrinkles, and all the space that life once filled suddenly turns too big for ordinary days. Empty and vague. A blurred expanse of time and reasonable dreams.
Something that was stretched too far to accommodate an average future.
Just like a deflated balloon.
Changmin looks up.
He walked slowly but he’s nearly there already; the bridge is just ahead. He finds his phone in his pocket and turns it off without taking it out. Night is falling fast, the sky now dark enough to shade the shape of clouds. Less people. More lights, and more shadows. The repetitive murmur of aimless notes inside his head, standing out against the confused background of Seoul’s evening songs.
…her tear-stricken face.
Words now. It could be the actual lyrics emerging from the folds of his memory. Maybe it’s not, and his mind just made them up.
Changmin slows down even more once he’s on the bridge. He likes it here. He likes the uninterrupted flow of water travelling its ageless route under his steps, indifferent and strong. So much more real than his own existence, in a way. It doesn’t have to fear the passing of time and the knowledge that one day, it will be too late - ineluctably.
He smiles softly, like to tell himself it’s alright.
There are many reasons why he turned left today, but despair isn’t one of them. It’s something else. However he’d have trouble putting words on it if he were asked a precise answer.
He stops walking when he’s right in the middle of the bridge.
Changmin can’t really call it peaceful here; too many cars, too much noise, and a strong wind relentlessly enveloping him in cold gusts. Still… he always stops at that exact place. It’s part of the ritual. The feeling hasn’t changed in the least, still as peculiar as the first time he could clearly sense it - disconcerting, but not in a bad way. He doesn’t know how to explain and strangely, the best way to define it would be an image.
A sandglass.
It feels just like being at the center of a sandglass, standing at the very heart of that place where time is regularly dropping. And after a while and with a little concentration, he can even see his life from a reverse point of view; turning his back on the future, while the past is waiting ahead. Changmin likes the mental acrobatics, the way it turns things around and shakes them off-balance, prompting him to question even the most sensible decisions.
And as usual, it becomes too complicated after a few minutes only and he resumes walking.
On his right, the road and cars rushing by. On his left, water.
It’s night now, and it’d be completely dark if it wasn’t for the city lights. Changmin stopped paying attention to where he’s walking, not caring much about puddles now that there’s no one around to notice. The same silly tune hasn’t stopped playing inside his head, though reduced to a stream of muffled notes that’s barely perceptible now - …her tear-stricken face, and then?
He’s nearly there, just a few more meters.
A crosswalk on his right. On his left, water.
He speeds up unconsciously. He feels more relaxed already, his mind clearing just picturing his destination. Close now. It’s always the same place he goes to… always the same itinerary, the same landmarks, the same inward route too. The stairs leading under the bridge, fourteen steps.
On his right, the city - big, bright, busy. On his left, the riverside.
It’s just a place Changmin likes, with a few trees that grew here like by mistake, and steps opening a way from the concreted riverbank to the dark flows of the Han River below. It’s not as popular as other spots pompously deemed as ‘pedestrian-friendly’ - the ones engulfed in lights and modernity. It’s not exactly secluded either, and here he can be alone without feeling lonely. No one ever comes here, or at least not at night.
No one.
But today, Changmin slows down way before reaching the step where he normally sits.
Someone is already here, leaning against one of the scrawny trees. They keep their eyes fixed on him as he comes forward slowly, and probably notice a moment of hesitation as Changmin stops walking altogether. Surprised. Nearly wary, though it’s soon obvious that there should be no reason for him to be. No reason at all.
He breathes in sharply, on his guard in spite of the open expression he instinctively arranged his features into.
“Jae…? Why are you here?”
Light and friendly, like it’s nothing unusual… as if they just met by chance on the way back from work, instead of the deserted riverbank at a time where they should both be home. The familiar silhouette leans away from the trees, taking a few steps toward him.
“What are you doing here?”, Changmin asks again when he gets no answer, too surprised to feel bothered yet by that sudden intrusion in his solo routine.
“You always come here when there’s something on your mind”, Jaejoong stops, keeping a small distance between them but still close enough for Changmin to see his face clearly, “just thought I’d come first, this time.”
Like to contrast with his own attempt at managing a friendly face, he’s keeping his expression carefully blank, as if wary of his reaction.
“How did you know…?”
“Something wasn’t right recently”, Jaejoong shrugs. “It was only a matter of time.”
So I’ve been waiting for you to come here the past days. He leaves the rest unsaid, but the general idea is clear enough.
Though it doesn’t tell Changmin how Jaejoong came to know about that special spot. Or why he thought it’d be a good idea to show up unannounced. It should be obvious that he never spoke about that place because he likes being here alone, right? Which has him wondering if Jaejoong has been following him, and the idea makes him frown. Suspicious. Tensing unconsciously, and already eyeing the other with mild defiance.
“You are angry”, Jaejoong states quietly.
It takes a few seconds for Changmin to realize he’s right. ‘Violation’ is too strong a word, but it isn’t that far from the actual thing either. It’s not much different from trying to get into his head - secretly taking a look at those things you don’t want anyone to see. And it doesn’t make it any better that Jaejoong isn’t a stranger, quite the contrary. Changmin feels betrayed. And angry, right.
“I’m not”, he answers however, not willing to start an argument here, of all places.
Its significance is about ruined anyway. Now he’d rather not make it worse.
Jaejoong doesn’t say anything, but does that thing with his mouth… the one that means ‘I don’t believe you’, ‘who do you take me for?’ and ‘why are you like that?’ - all three together. Changmin doesn’t have a counter for that look so he averts his eyes, and starts gazing at the river instead. Still unsettled. Annoyed.
He came here for a bit of thinking on his own, not a confrontation with a curious boyfriend.
“You never tell me when there’s something bothering you…”
Judging by the way he just spoke, it’s now clear that Jaejoong is worried.
He is always worried.
Changmin swallows words that’d sound too harsh and that he’d regret, and keeps on staring at the water, the bridge, the traffic on the other side of the river… anything that’s not the other’s reproachful expression. Childish, sure, but still better than a petulant ‘leave me alone’. He only wanted some time to himself, and is that asking for too much?
“Look… I’m sorry, okay?”
He thinks he sees the other move at the periphery of his gaze. It’s like Jaejoong could read his mind just now - which wouldn’t be impossible, given how long they’ve been together.
“Just say something. Or at least look at me.”
He sounds upset. Changmin sighs, turning to face the older man again. Jaejoong is still wearing his suit, he notices inwardly. He probably came here straight after work. That would explain why Changmin always found the place empty when he came back home the past few days.
“Why are you here?”, he asks once more, doing his best to keep the accusation out of his tone. Not as well as he intended.
It’s Jaejoong’s turn not to answer, not immediately. He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh and visibly hesitating about what to say. He still looks uncertain when he finally meets his eyes again.
“I thought it’d be a good thing, but now I’m not so sure anymore.”
Changmin’s only answer is an imperceptible twitch of the lips. Jaejoong frowns. He tilts his head, studying him closely as if the right words could be written somewhere on his face.
“Actually I just hate it when you do that”, he adds bluntly a moment later.
“When I do what?”
“That…”, Jaejoong motions vaguely in his direction, talking a bit more vehemently now that they’re back on speaking terms, “disappearing off the city, going to I don’t know where and then reappearing three hours later and acting like nothing happened.”
He crosses his arms at the end of his tirade, like daring him to protest. Not that Changmin intends to; he simply doesn’t feel the need to explain. Jaejoong knows him well enough anyway. Right. It’s not like Changmin is hiding anything important from him, it’s just the way he is.
“You know why already…”
It’s not exactly an answer, but he doesn’t need to say more.
Jaejoong’s expression softens a little. He doesn’t answer, just crosses the short distance between, them and comes to crouch next to him. He isn’t looking at him, his face turned toward the river, as it seems engrossed in the sight. The lower part of his coat is trailing on the wet ground. It’s silent, and slightly awkward.
Changmin is starting to feel cold… uncomfortable too, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He doesn’t want to apologize because it’s not as if he did anything wrong. However he does feel bad about making Jaejoong worry.
Jaejoong always worries.
He worries too much - and more often than not for no reason at all -, but nothing Changmin did or said in all the time they spent together could really change it. The older man just tries not to be too obvious about it, and Changmin does his best not to give him actual reasons to feel insecure. It usually works. Looks like it wasn’t enough this time though. And he doesn’t think Jaejoong will be happy with a mere ‘everything’s alright’. The problem being that Changmin would be completely unable to pinpoint what exactly is wrong with him nowadays.
“Do you remember…?”
The older man’s voice draws him out of his thoughts after several minutes of complete silence, only disturbed by the low rumble of traffic on the bridge nearby.
“When we first got together…”, Jaejoong continues in the same quiet tone, “do you remember everything we said we’d do?”
Changmin doesn’t answer at once, though he remembers perfectly well. It’s just hard to understand why memories that should feel wholly bright and happy now drag along with them a bittersweet aftertaste. It was nearly six years ago. They were still young enough to make lists about what the future would be.
“We said we’d finish our studies”, he starts, “then travel abroad and-”
“Europe”, Jaejoong cuts him, “I wanted to travel around the world and you said that I was being too greedy, that Europe only would be nice already.”
“Right.”
Changmin smiles for the first time that evening, remembering 22-years-old Jaejoong and the continuous flow of random ideas that kept springing out of his brain and that he was determined to accomplish. Half of them would’ve lead to complete disasters if Changmin hadn’t been here, in charge of damage control.
“You desperately wanted to be famous”, he says, ignoring an indignant groan coming from somewhere under him, “even tried to talk me into giving up university to go the US together…”
“And you were always smarter than me, whatever I said.”
That efficiently dampens his momentary happiness.
It’s true. And even now, Changmin often feels as if he hasn’t achieved half of what he believed himself capable of.
There’s nothing very glamorous about his current job; preparing sale agreements, hunting down potential properties, and wheedling wary customers - who all seem to be prejudiced against real estate agencies in general. But one thing leading to another, this is where he’s been working the past three years.
It’s hard to remember that at some point, what now seems to him like the height of boredom once shone with the promise of a steady income and a decent job.
“You said you wanted to live by the sea”, Jaejoong’s voice interrupts that train of thought. This time it is more than welcomed.
Changmin lets his gaze wander around. Strangely enough, it looks brighter than it was only minutes ago. Sparks in the water, headlights and reflections, white and orange and blue. Maybe it’s because more lights appeared with the progress of night.
Her tear-stricken face… her tear-stricken face, and there’s a part about rain too. Or clouds. Or fall. Something like that.
“And I said I wanted a garden”, Jaejoong keeps talking, seemingly not bothered in the least by the lack of response he’s getting, “that was a bit silly, right?”
“Not as silly as when we fought for the dog thing.”
“The cat.”
“The dog.”
“The cat.”
Jaejoong chuckles and Changmin bites back a laugh, looking down at the other. He can’t see his face, but he doesn’t need to. He knows exactly how the smile there must look.
“Well… we have Bob now”, Jaejoong adds in a final tone, stretching his arms in front of him. He stands up and turns his head to look at him, an elusive smile still floating on his lips.
“Bob is a goldfish”, Changmin deadpans.
“Don’t say that like it's lame.”
He only hums in answer and goes behind Jaejoong, quickly checking that there isn’t too much damage done to his brand new coat. It’s wet, that’s all. He still brushes it with his hand a few times to be sure, and meets the other’s eyes as soon as he stands up back straight.
“Could’ve been dirty”, Changmin mutters, answering the silent question.
“Are you feeling bad for being grumpy earlier?”
“No.”
Jaejoong grins and Changmin ignores him, walking past him to go sit at the usual place at last. Third step, starting from the top of the concrete stairs. Rather far from the river itself, but the view is more beautiful like this - at least he’s not close enough to see the rubbish floating unappealingly along the riverbanks.
He feels rather than hears Jaejoong sit on the step right behind him. It doesn’t bother him as much as it’d have only minutes ago.
On his left, the bridge. On his right, nothing.
“We didn’t do anything in the end”, Jaejoong says after another long silence, “I mean… none of those things we’d planned.”
“I’d rather think it’s great that we’re still together”, Changmin avoids answering, putting his hands back inside his pockets. It’s getting really chilly, especially since he stopped walking.
“But-“
“And it was silly things. You said that yourself.”
“Maybe…”
Jaejoong doesn’t sound convinced, and Changmin can tell that there’s more to come. And knowing the older man, he was only getting started. Setting the mood. Bringing him to a listening state of mind, before getting him to talk.
Changmin knows perfectly well that there are times when he isn’t easy to deal with. Even Jaejoong sometimes gets it wrong, but that’s becoming rarer and rarer as time passes.
Very rare indeed, he ponders, trying to remember when was their last real, full-blown fight.
He rewinds time, month after month, and finally lands on the last occurrence. It was nearly two years ago, he realizes with a tinge of wonder. When that side of Jaejoong that’s too insecure still fed on the tiniest details to build the worst scenarios. It’s better now, though the older man still worries too much about him.
He’s afraid that one day, Changmin will start needing things that he won’t find by his side.
He always worries because he’s the only person who actually knows him, good and bad, and everything unfulfilled inside. Others think that Jaejoong is a bit of a dreamer while Changmin is the one who’s down-to-earth. The contrary comes much closer to the truth. Jaejoong says many things but what he means, he does it. And Changmin spends a lot of time trying not to think too much, because when he does, his life somehow morphs into a deflated balloon… right. A wet fuse.
Something that can, but won’t… that could’ve, but didn’t.
“You always come here when you’re feeling down”, Jaejoong says after a while, tentatively going back to where he started before, his voice barely above a whisper, “you never talk to me instead.”
“Nothing’s wrong”, Changmin answers after he managed to swallow the lump in his throat. It sounds marginally better than ‘everything’s alright’.
“Then why did you come here?”
Getting him to talk. Asking the right questions. Knowing how to ask them.
“I don’t know”, he says honestly, trying in vain to come up with a better answer, “I don’t… so you shouldn’t worry, it’s…“
…it’s because the sky was so grey.
Because people walked so fast, all of them knowing where they were heading to. Because the day had been so painfully normal. Because it’s always the same bus, the same road, the same day. Changmin can hardly call these ‘reasons’.
“What are you thinking about?”
Even softer than before. Now he can feel the warmth coming from behind him. Even though Jaejoong isn’t touching or embracing him or anything, Changmin can tell that he’s dying to. He’s that close himself to wishing it’d be the case. He isn’t exactly the kind of person who constantly needs to be hugged or things like that, but tonight, somehow…
“Have you ever thought…”
Changmin stops midsentence and closes his eyes to erase the sight in front of him, just to make believe he’s somewhere else. Jaejoong is right behind him. It isn’t so cold anymore, like the wind suddenly fell still.
“Have you ever wanted to leave?”
To redo everything from scratch. To start over in someplace new.
It sounds stupid and terribly cliché so he doesn’t say it aloud. It’s also the kind of thing he usually avoids saying in front of the other. In spite of all the time he spends blabbering about dreams, Jaejoong lives strongly anchored to reality. To actual, solid facts. Things that will last.
It’s okay if hopes never become anything more than hopes, as long as there’s a steady future ahead. It’s okay if feelings turn a little more serene, a little less heated, as long as they could be forever.
That kind of down-to-earth thinking.
What Changmin still refuses to accept… things that fade away, that disappear, that turn bland or sensible or wise, hence robbed of their true nature. He hates that. It scares him.
“Don’t you want… just, to live something different sometimes?”, he adds nearly despite himself, fervently hoping that it didn’t sound as immature as he fears. Maybe he never really grew up.
“Of course”, Jaejoong says after what seems to him like a really long time, “everyone feels that way, I think… it’s normal, isn’t it?”
Changmin doesn’t want it to be normal. He wants to make it happen. ‘Normal’ feels close to suffocating those days, and it’s even worse hearing it from Jaejoong. He bends forward, wrapping his arms around himself and looking straight ahead. Into the water.
His throat feels tight. He has that very, very childish urge to throw a tantrum and cry like a spoilt kid, because the world isn’t as amazing as tales said it’d be. It’s stupid. Foolish. Ridiculous. He feels cheated and while Changmin rarely cries, he thinks that in other circumstances, maybe this time he’d give in to the hot pressure slowly building inside his chest and behind his eyes.
“It’s hard, right?”
Changmin thinks it was a hand brushing against his hair just now.
“What is?”
“Accepting it…”, Jaejoong’s voice falls one notch lower, just as the comforting pressure of fingers lightly threading through his hair increases - real, undeniably. “Just… accepting that we don’t have the makings of adventurers, or heroes, or… I don’t know. That kind of people. With extraordinary lives.”
It’d sound mocking if it hadn’t been said so gently. Now Changmin wonders if Jaejoong actually understands even more than he thought. He starts blinking faster, just in case.
“You and I…”, the other’s voice sounds clearer than before, closer, as if he just leant forward, “we won’t change the world Changmin-ah.”
“I know that.”
He knows that. Of course, he knows. So nothing’s wrong, right?
He’s staring blankly into the water, back to mentally drowning some thoughts in the moving flows of darkness fluidly unrolling in front of him. Thinking about the bridge. A sandglass. Seconds dropping one after the other, and what is he doing here, instead of doing wonders with every fragment of time he was granted?
It’s being erased… falling not to ever rise again, irremediably, no going back. Soon it’ll be too late. Soon, he’ll regret having lost so much time regretting instead of simply doing. Wasting something unbelievably precious just because he doesn’t know what to do of it.
Changmin shudders when arms come to wrap around him from behind. ‘Finally’, he can’t help but think.
He leans into the embrace until his back meets Jaejoong’s front. He feels him shift closer. The other’s arms crossed over his chest, as if trying to protect him from something. He can hear… feel the regular rhythm of his breaths. Can feel the hands lying on either side of his body, light, here. Just here. Jaejoong’s lips; an inch away from the side of his head, like on purpose, so that Changmin will realize that no… he doesn’t want that distance to exist after all.
He already wants to be held tighter.
“This is real”, Jaejoong whispers in his ear, sending another shiver down his spine, “even if everything else looks fake, this will always be real.”
“I know.”
Changmin closed his eyes again. It feels as if his heartbeat slowed down a little, gently lulled by the sense of safety brought by warmth on his left, and on his right as well.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Because if you know already”, Jaejoong is speaking slow, neatly enunciating every word like to make sure he’ll be heard, “then you should also understand why you don’t need to hide anything from me.”
“I’m not-“
“So I’ll do as if you thought I was too clueless or selfish to notice”, he cuts him, still talking in the same assured tone, “because I’d hate to think you believe I’m that weak.”
Jaejoong always worries too much.
Changmin hates seeing him upset, unsure, or hurt. Changmin does everything he can to make sure he’s fine. Changmin worries so much he’d rather make him live in a perfect fake world than expose him to his own inner devils - questions without answers, and nameless sadness.
“I won’t disappear, whatever you’re thinking.”
A light touch on his temple, where Jaejoong leaves a kiss; like the physical counterpart of what he’s trying to say. Changmin breathes in deeply, resisting the urge to take the other’s hands in his own.
“I’m sorry.”
Not because he made Jaejoong worry or because of the way he spoke to him earlier, but because Jaejoong knows him like no one else does, and Changmin should’ve known he’d understand that too. Even if ‘that’ may never have a name.
“Don’t be…”, Jaejoong moves, putting his chin on his shoulder, “I like that about you, you know… you’d rather be disillusioned again and again than surrender.”
“It sounds really sad when you say it like that…”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then I’m just an idiot.”
Jaejoong chuckles, a warm puff of air against his face.
“You’ve been nice and sensible all your life, that’s all. And now you feel like clearing off to make some masterly mistake.”
“As I said, an idiot.”
“I see you’ve made up your mind already…”
Jaejoong tightens his hold ever so slightly - a wordless reproach - then suddenly moves forward, pecking his cheek before Changmin even gets to react.
“So this is what we’re going to do.”
The mood changes in just one split second.
That was Jaejoong’s ‘let’s get down to business’ tone, the one he usually adopts in order to make the craziest ideas sound slightly less insane. Which instantly brings Changmin back to the most basic aspects of living with someone who likes defining themselves as ‘a bit of a lunatic at times’.
“Do I have a say in this?”
“We’re going to go back home before we both catch the cold of the century”, Jaejoong ignores him, “and you’ll apologize to Bob while I find something nice to eat.”
“What does Bob have to do with everything else?”
“Then we’ll talk all night if you want to”, the other goes on as if he didn’t hear, “like before. I don’t care what it is about. We can even take the car and drive off to wherever you want.”
“But-“
“And I’ll call in sick for the two of us tomorrow.”
Changmin can’t repress a small smile.
He just remembered. ‘A smile on her tear-stricken face, sunrays breaking through the dark clouds’. Turns out to be a bit cheesy, but he should’ve expected it. Cheesy isn’t always lame anyway. It might even be needed at times.
“You choose, I don’t want to know where we’ll go”, he says, implicitly giving Jaejoong the ‘OK’.
“I thought you’d say the sea…”
‘I don’t care as long as it’s with you’ is on the list of things Changmin promised himself not to ever say.
He turns around instead, and puts his arms around Jaejoong’s waist. Looking up at his face, smiling as soon as their gazes meet. He stifles a comment about the older man being taller than him, for once - still sitting on the step above him. Changmin doesn’t want to talk anymore. His heart is already beating faster in anticipation. Familiar… the scent, and feel, and even till the vague urge to make sure no one’s watching. Familiar, and normal, right… but it doesn’t sound that bad right now. And it’s only too easy to give in to the temptation and close his eyes, just as Jaejoong bends forward.
It has been nearly six years, and there are times when the simple contact of their lips doesn’t elicit anything special… times when it looks like they just got used to each other, and Changmin might hate that idea more than all the others brought together.
But tonight, he makes sure to remember why it’s important. Unique. Extraordinary, in its own fragile way.
Changmin parts his lips and he thinks Jaejoong understands, as the older man kisses him more carefully than usual. Slow. Unhurried. Too close then not enough, teasing, probing, giving him everything but that small detail… a sense of closure maybe, like all has been said now. Making him physically touch the exact kind of distance they should preserve if they don’t want to wane.
Jaejoong’s lips move slow, a hand cradling the back of his head, the fingers of his other hand digging hard into his back - mixed need and tenderness, and Changmin knows, something much stronger simmering beneath. It’s there in a sudden pull forward, a shuddery breath… when the other’s hand moves from his hair to his cheek, cupping his jaw, firm and nearly hard, and suddenly so light like he’s afraid he just went too far. Like the very first time.
And like the very first time, Changmin can do nothing but let go. It’s butterflies in his stomach again. Pounding hearts, hands too small, arms too weak for everything they want to embrace and hold close.
When Jaejoong breaks the kiss, Changmin finds himself unable to look at him.
He puts his head on his shoulder instead, breathing loud, eyes closed, and struggling to stifle successive waves of dizzying feelings. He’s still embracing the other as tightly as before, while Jaejoong is rubbing his back in long, soothing gestures, as if to erase the weariness that piled up the past days - and weeks, and months.
“From tomorrow on we’ll start saving up for that trip in Europe”, Jaejoong says quietly, and Changmin wants to call him merciless, “we can even use the money we already put aside to buy a bigger place.”
It’s not right, Changmin should say. Not the adult thing to do. Foolish and unreasonable, and not sensible at all. The words remain frozen, trapped inside along with a heap of other down-to-earth things to say and do.
“And even after we did all that, if it’s not enough…”, Jaejoong stills, laying a light kiss in the crook of his neck before he continues, “if it’s still too hard, then we could try doing that huge mistake. Together.”
Merciless. Or to put it more nicely, terribly stubborn.
Jaejoong won’t let him waste, or fail, or crash, or at least not alone. Changmin can’t even tell if the older man was serious about what he just said, but just for having said it, he feels incredibly grateful. Who knows, Jaejoong might be a bit of an idiot as well. Maybe that’s why he understands. Maybe Changmin doesn’t need anything more than that - someone to keep dreams alive, and not make them come true.
Horizons aren’t meant to be reached.
“That sounds nice”, he merely answers, shifting a little until he fits just right in Jaejoong’s arms.
Changmin decides he can grant himself a few seconds more in a place that’s just perfect, where he already achieved so much and reached so high, but where worlds remain to create.
Below, the concrete ground, the steps, the river - glittering waters. And above, the sky.
Note: Another of those things that refuse to leave me alone till I write them down... I can't decide myself if it's depressing or not XD Inspired by this (see summary)~ Enjoy the read!! ^_^