[Meteors] Chapter 15
Chapter: 15
Pairings: YooMin
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Fluff, slight Angst
Summary:
There is only one truth, Changmin believes, and only one question - is it the one you want?There is only chance, Yoochun thinks - the meteor crashes, or it doesn’t. And if it does the only question is, will you run fast enough or let the stars collide?
Part 15. Of mistakes and changes.
Yoochun plays dead during the three weeks that follow The Kiss.
He doesn’t answer his phone, doesn’t open the door, doesn’t reply emails, doesn’t show up at Jaejoong’s or Yoowhan’s or any of the places where he usually hangs out, and basically works on convincing the universe that he vanished into thin air.
Changmin would like to say he’s worried. He’d like to say he understands. He’d like to say it doesn’t bother him. But Changmin is angry - sort of furious, actually. It doesn’t help at all that the only news he got about Yoochun during those three weeks was through Jaejoong, a phone call. The bad kind of call. More like a flow of nonsensical reproaches and accusations and to crown it all a “stop messing with him” that downgraded Changmin’s mood from “generally cranky” to “downright pissed”.
So Yoochun is upset, alright. Fine. He gets it. However Changmin figures he’s not bad off himself in that department, and he could well do with some of the attention. His life is a mess too. His feelings. His thoughts, his beliefs, his lines, everything is just a mess and he needs to talk it through except Yoochun is being an ass and he decided to pretend he doesn’t exist exactly when Changmin just really, really would like to maybe have an adult conversation with him and actually solve stuff.
Maybe he should behave like a fucking drama queen too and act childish about more or less everything so that others will deign having basic regards for his perfectly busted and wonderfully screwed up emotions.
Hell, maybe he should go to Australia.
Changmin doesn’t want to go to Australia.
Changmin is miserable and confused, and he wants to see Yoochun. He will agree that maybe The Kiss was a bad idea. He will blame himself for it if need be. He will admit that it was most certainly selfish and not quite sane and untimely and rash - make it the worst idea of the century - but still, it’s done, and Changmin just cannot go on pretending that it never happened.
As it is, he has been able to think of little else those past days - when he wasn’t busy mentally choking Yoochun and his pathetic head-in-the-sand strategy. It’s only a way of speaking of course. Changmin doesn’t want to kill Yoochun. Just squeeze his neck a little tight, and if they are lucky that will force some of the idiocy out of his stupid brain.
In truth, Changmin is extremely unhappy and a tad depressed, and he really wants to see Yoochun. He wants to hear his voice. He wants to see him laugh. He wants just the tiniest evidence that they are still alright. He wants to talk about The Kiss. He wants to say what he probably should have said before, and what he would have told Yoochun after if the other hadn’t freaked out on him.
Changmin feels very much lost and alone, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
It’s like he took it upon himself to make a step forward hoping to close that newfound gap between Yoochun and him, and it was scary, then Yoochun just had to bolt in the opposite direction. And now Changmin is left standing awkwardly on the other side of that line he just crossed, and there is no one waiting for him here. No one to tell him it was the right thing to do. And no way for him to go back like “oops sorry I didn’t mean to please ignore me here nothing happened and bye”.
Changmin is angry, miserable, confused, lost and all in all very upset. Also increasingly aware of the inevitable. You don’t spend years hanging out with Yoochun without resigning yourself to a few facts - in the present case, the fact that when Yoochun crashes into a wall, he first acts like it killed him then madly runs away and eventually pretends nothing happened so nothing hurts. Right now he’s still at stage one, and Changmin knows he’d better catch him one way or another before Yoochun moves onto stage two and flies to the North pole.
He definitely has to get a hold of him before stage three kicks in, and Yoochun starts pretending The Kiss didn’t happen.
Because The Kiss happened indeed, and it did things to Changmin. A lot of things, actually. It sort of blew up in his face but in a nice way, and he would be hard pressed to explain why kissing Yoochun had seemed such a strange idea mere weeks ago. Changmin keeps thinking about it. Yoochun’s lips. His hands and the way he held him. His voice and the blunt edge in it, low and rough and different. His eyes… his damn deep eyes and that look in them - an echo of the day when Yoochun said “I love you” except that this time the pain was gone, and only love and need shone. Burned.
It was Yoochun but not quite Yoochun, and then suddenly it wasn’t Yoochun at all. Suddenly there was that man who was anything but awkward, insecure or playful. There was that man whom Changmin did not know, a man who knew exactly where he stood and what he wanted, and who wasn’t scared of taking it. And it surprised him, it did, but Changmin as well has stopped seeing Yoochun as a friend only.
It took some time but he accepted it now. He also accepted that there was more to Yoochun than the older man wanted him to see.
What Changmin needs now is to talk to him, but he knows Yoochun, and the chances of the older man coming to him first are ridiculously low. Make it zero. Make it negative. Changmin can either wait for a miracle, or try and drag him out of his cave himself, and he was never one to rely on miracles to save the day. Even if option 2 is a bit risky, since Changmin’s usual way of solving embroiled matters is to grab one end of the knot and shake hard hoping it will come undone.
But in truth, Changmin simply really really wants to see Yoochun. It’s not about swallowing one’s pride. It’s not about forgiveness. It’s not even about making that first step (again) before it’s too late. Changmin just wants to see Yoochun, and hear his voice, and take his hand. He wants to tell him it’s okay. It’s fine. They are fine. They will be.
It was all so complicated recently, but now it has become surprisingly simple.
It has become possible.
~
Yoochun knows he made a mistake the moment he opens the door. He isn’t sure what makes him give in. Probably the very convincing note in Changmin’s voice when he says fine, whatever, he’s going to break it open on the count of three, “one”, “two”…
“Three-“
Yoochun yanks the door open. Next thing he knows, the funny feeling is back in his stomach. The pressure in his chest. The irrepressible urge to reach out, touch Changmin’s face, take his hands, hold him close, get rid of every gap between them - in a very physical way. Yoochun swallows hard. Kissing Changmin revealed a broad field of yet unexplored possibilities and sensations, and said possibilities are making it hard for him to focus on the priorities at hand. Meaning Changmin’s ‘you’re-so-dead-just-give-me-one-good-reason-not-to-kill-you-right-now’ face.
Maybe that’s when Yoochun should apologize. Or lie and say he was abroad, old friends to visit, all that. Or tell him he looks good. Pissed, but very good. Deadly good. Maybe he should just shut up. Changmin’s eyes are throwing daggers at him and he finally gets the hint, and moves aside to let him in. He swallows again when the other’s arm brushes against his shoulder, and closes his eyes, repressing a sigh. He’s so screwed.
Changmin steps inside and looks around at the wreckage that once was the living room. The disapproving expression on his face speaks volumes, and Yoochun knows he’ll have a hard time making up for this one. He sits down on the only chair in the room and looks at Changmin as the other methodically inspects the surrounding war zone. He doesn’t know what to tell him. There is a lot he wants to tell him, but he figures none of it is appropriate.
Things like, Yoochun is a mess when Changmin isn’t around. His life goes all the wrong ways when Changmin is not here. The past days were hell and he can’t fix it alone. He just keeps doing it all wrong. All wrong. He’s a failure, he knows, and he feels awful. And he’s sorry about the kiss but then again not really, because that was heaven, except at the end. He did screw up toward the end.
Changmin picks up an empty bottle of cheap liquor between his thumb and his index. He holds it in the air and wrinkles his nose, and throws a dark look his way. Yoochun hastily looks down and feigns deep interest in his feet. He hears a thump when the bottle is dropped on the carpet and squeezes his eyes shut when Changmin yanks the curtains open, letting the bright midday light flow into the room, crudely revealing the evidence of Yoochun’s chaotic collapse the past weeks.
“Well.”
Changmin’s voice is icy cold. Yoochun tries to make himself very small on his chair. His head hurts badly and he fleetingly considers running to lock himself inside the bedroom to avoid confronting reality just yet. He isn’t ready to handle Changmin’s disappointment now on top of everything else.
“Want some water?”
Changmin’s voice may just have softened ever so slightly, and Yoochun nods without thinking. He’s still staring intently at his feet and he doesn’t move from his chair as the other goes to the kitchen. He waits till Changmin is gone to finally look up. And damn, it is a mess.
It looks a lot like his student room back during university after a two days party, only without the drunk bodies splayed on the floor. Jaejoong was right when he said that Yoochun needed to draw a clearer line between “coping” and “drinking”. He said if Yoochun really needed to drink to cope, maybe he could try tea instead - but not black tea of course. With honey in it, honey was good for coping. Many things didn’t have alcohol in it and were good for coping, he said, and Yoochun answered he didn’t want to cope, he wanted to die. So Jaejoong hung up on him.
Yoochun glares at the carpeted floor. It didn’t take long for him to realize that throwing Changmin out like this that day had been a terrible move. But then he felt too ashamed to call him. A day passed, then two, and the more days passed, the harder it became. Then the situation went from bad to disastrous once again.
That’s when Yoochun realizes that Changmin is taking a lot of time just for a glass of water.
‘The kitchen’, he thinks then, and the vivid image of an open letter on the table flashes through his mind. Mindless fear shots up and he stands up abruptly and rushes to kitchen, not bothering that he’s on the verge of panic and overreacting and can matters actually get worse now?
Changmin looks up as soon as Yoochun barges in. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand, a letter in the other. He looks pale. He glances down at the letter, then at Yoochun again, like trying to link both together.
“I didn’t do it” Yoochun blurts out.
Changmin is staring like he doesn’t trust him, and Yoochun swallows hard. This time it has nothing to do with kissing or how good Changmin looks even when he’s pissed.
“I didn’t do it” he says again for lack of a better defense, feeling a bit sick now, and his throbbing headache isn’t helping. “Changmin, I swear… I swear I didn’t know about it…”
Changmin stares incredulously for a moment more, before he seems to get a grip. He puts the glass of water on the table and faces him. His expression went back to anger, but it’s different now. Cold. Accusing. His fingers grip the sheet of paper tighter, with no consideration for the official Seoul Metropolitan Police logo glaring at the top of the letter.
“It’s a convening notice” Changmin states coolly, “for questioning.”
Now Yoochun feels more than just a bit sick. He feels nauseous and cold yet too hot, and he cannot blame the alcohol in his system this time around.
“It says you’re involved in fraudulent activities” Changmin goes on in the same toneless voice, and Yoochun thought the situation was plainly disastrous before but it just took a turn for the worse.
“I had no idea” he starts pleadingly, “Liam, he… he asked me to arrange those transfers and I thought it was part of the job, I swear I didn’t know about it, I swear!”
Something passes in Changmin’s eyes, too fast for Yoochun to grasp it. His expression shifts slightly. He looks down at the paper once more, reading through it carefully. Yoochun has the words engraved into his mind. He kept repeating them over and over again the past days, and each sentence is like another punch from reality, a reminder of how off he still is. It’s torture to watch Changmin read them, and it’s a small miracle he manages not to run away this time. That, or the weak sensation in his knees that warns him he wouldn’t be able to go far anyway.
When Changmin looks up again, Yoochun can tell he took a decision. His eyes aren’t any less cold however. The anger is still here. The disapproval too.
Changmin doesn’t run away. Changmin despises lies, cowardice and excuses, and Yoochun is once again reminded of why the mere thought of Changmin maybe feeling something for him is ridiculous. He’s not even sure why Changmin calls him a friend - if Changmin still considers him a friend, and judging by his expression right now, nothing could be less sure.
“You didn’t know?” he asks curtly.
“I didn’t-“
“You really had no idea about-“
“No!”
“How could you not know?” Changmin frowns, without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. It hurts more than Yoochun thought possible, because he can’t remember a time when Changmin actually did not care. “You have been working with him for months, you talked to him every day, obviously you should have noticed something was going on.”
“Well I did not!” Yoochun bristles, fear and anger breaking through, and pain, because he hates the way Changmin is looking at him right now, and he hates that he cannot make it go away. “I didn’t because I’m an idiot, and yeah that’s the only reason why Liam picked me for that job! He needed a scapegoat and here I am, the perfect fool!”
“Calm down, it-”
“I won’t! I trusted him! For the first time in my life I had a damn real job and I was doing well!” Yoochun keeps shouting as treacherous tears gather in his eyes, and the words pour out uncontrollably. “But of course you don’t get it! It always works out for you! Always!!”
“Yoochun-“
“And when have you ever been in trouble anyway? Oh no, you are better than that! You can tell a scam when you see one, can’t you?? You are not a pathetic loser and if I fucking failed again I can just blame myself and my retarded brain, right?!”
He isn’t done but Changmin suddenly comes up to him. He’s furious, Yoochun realizes too late. His eyes are storming - plain anger, unaltered and cold - towering over him, his face scarily white.
“Get out” he says, his voice surprisingly even, but his expression instinctively make Yoochun recoil.
“Changmin…“
“Go to Jaejoong. Take a walk. I don’t care, but don’t stay here.”
“I-“
“You were supposed to go meet them this morning” Changmin abruptly changes tactics, thrusting the police convocation in his face. “You didn’t go, did you?”
Yoochun says nothing. His heart feels terribly heavy inside his chest - because it’s unfair, because he couldn’t, the apprehension, their questions, no answer, he did not know, he didn’t, and who would believe that. He shakes his head. Changmin doesn’t add a word. His expression is enough, and Yoochun turns around. He leaves the apartment like in a dream, or rather a nightmare, wondering for the umpteenth time why on earth he can’t change, and where did he go wrong.
Changmin sighs deeply as soon as Yoochun is out of sight. He unsteadily takes a step back and leans against the table for support, eyes closed, struggling to regulate his breathing. His hands are shaking. His chest feels tight, pressured, painful, battling with conflicting emotions that he’s not used to deal with, and that just got the best of him. He can’t afford to sort them out right now, not with what he just found out.
Yoochun messed up big time now, and that’s not a wall he crashed into. It’s a fucking mountain.
Changmin rubs his face with his hands harshly, willing negative thoughts away. He looks around the kitchen, his eyes stopping on every sign that Yoochun slowly but truly broke down over the past few days. Again. Except that this time it goes beyond the usual issues with the society in general and adulthood in particular. It’s bad. Real bad.
Changmin looks down at his shaky hands, and tightens them into fists. He obliges himself to take a few more deep breaths. The lump in his throat refuses to go away, and the anxiety fluttering in his chest is not likely to disappear any time soon. He thinks of the panicked look in Yoochun’s eyes, his heart tightening even more. Changmin saw the shame in them. The dread. Facing something way too big for him to handle alone - “reality”, strangers would say, strangers who don’t know Yoochun and the world Yoochun is struggling to live in. Changmin knows that world, and he knows very well it doesn’t quite exist. That’s why it is so frail. That’s why he likes it.
He breathes in deeply once more and takes his phone in his pocket. He’s not sure there is a way to fix this, but someone needs to try.
~
“You look awful.”
“You already said that.”
“I did?”
“Four times.”
“How strange. Did you have tea like I told you?” Jaejoong asks, looking around expectantly like a magic teapot is about to summon itself. “Tea is good.”
“Yeah I heard you the first hundred times” Yoochun mutters, playing with his chopsticks nervously and trying not to look too often on his left at the silent figure sitting there.
It’s been just one day since Changmin and he argued. When Yoochun came back after three hours - the time to cool his head and regain a semblance of self-control - Changmin was gone but the apartment was spotless. The fridge was full, that cursed letter was nowhere in sight and there was a note on the table with an address asking to meet the next day for lunch.
Yoochun texted him ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’. He got no reply. He figured that was to be expected, and spent the first half of the night trying to decide if that lunch together would be the “I’m done with you, take care and bye” kind of meeting. He spent the other half talking to his pillow and rehearsing a “don’t do this” speech just in case. He finally fell asleep at six in the morning, while making believe that nothing had gone wrong with the kiss, the letter never happened, and it didn’t feel like his future had become a combination of several dead ends.
So for various reasons, Yoochun had felt reassured at first when he saw that Changmin had asked Jaejoong to come to the restaurant too. Now he isn’t so sure. The younger man hasn’t said a word since he arrived, mostly poking at his food instead of eating it - which in itself is alarming - and blatantly avoiding looking at him. Yoochun knows that he has a lot of explaining and apologizing to do, but someone’s rambling is making it hard for him to start a serious conversation.
Jaejoong decided last week that he was going to be vegan, and he’s being quite fervent about it.
“Did you take milk with your tea?”
“Yeah” Yoochun answers dully, not knowing and not caring what the question was.
“You shouldn’t. Milk is bad” Jaejoong states enthusiastically, attacking his third bowl of peanuts. Everything else on the menu has meat, or eggs, or whatever it is that Jaejoong cannot eat anymore. Yoochun saw the look in his eyes when Changmin’s and his (carnivore) orders arrived though. He can safely say that Jaejoong’s vegan phase will be over by the end of next week.
“You have no idea what they do to cows.”
“I’m not sure that I want to know.”
“That’s the problem!” Jaejoong shouts, attracting several customers’ eyes to their table. “You don’t want to know, no one does! Because it’s vicious. Barbaric! Inhumane!”
Yoochun glances at Changmin, who’s holding a slice of beef with his chopstick and staring blankly, like wondering if his ethics allow him to proceed. It’s a yes. He eats it, puts his chopsticks down, and turns to look at him for the first time since they sat down. Yoochun tries not to flinch. Years with Changmin haven’t made him immune to that stare yet, it seems.
“When did Liam first ask you to handle those money transfers?”
Buried anxiety shoots up at once, gripping Yoochun’s heart again. He pushes his plate away, suddenly not hungry at all.
“Changmin-“
“Just answer the question.”
Changmin’s expression remains irritatingly unruffled. Yoochun frowns. He’d like to get angry at him but that didn’t turn out so well the last time. He’d rather have to deal with a doubtful Changmin than not have a Changmin to deal with at all.
“About six months ago, I think.”
“So you had been working with him for two months already, right?”
“Something like that…”
Changmin nods. He still doesn’t look away, and Yoochun is having a hard time not shifting in his seat.
“What did he say the first time? About the transfer, what was the reason?”
“He needed funds for here…” Yoochun starts slowly, hating every bit of that conversation. “He said that we had to start somewhere.”
“And someone else withdrew all of it?”
“Changmin-“
“Did they or did they not?”
“They did” Yoochun answers curtly, “Liam said one of his contacts would take it and use the cash to do market research in South Korea, or something like that. I had to give them the account numbers.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“No.”
“But you were in charge of the transaction.”
“Yes.”
“The entire transfer was under your responsibility?”
“Yes, and yes I’ve been an idiot, and no I had no idea” Yoochun snaps, “seriously if you made me come here for interrogation, then just say you don’t trust me and be done with it!”
“I was just asking” Changmin answers, unfazed.
He goes back to his dish as if nothing happened. Yoochun looks down at his own plate, thinking he might be sick. Jaejoong is looking back and forth between the two of them, his eyes the size of saucers. No one tries to stop him when he tentatively starts on the topic of poultry rearing, and he quickly warms up to his topic. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoochun sees the faces of some of the customers around grow pale. One girl pushes away her chicken pasta when Jaejoong gets to the bloody core of it and goes for particularly detailed descriptions.
On Yoochun’s left, Changmin is back to being silent, and all the nice words he prepared about being sorry and wanting to fix it are falling apart in Yoochun’s mind.
Yoochun doesn’t know how to fix it. He knows saying ‘sorry’ won’t be enough. He doesn’t understand what Changmin is trying to do now. He looks at the young man’s hand on the table and dreams that he’s brave enough to take it and hold on tight. He dreams. That’s all Yoochun could ever do - dream, and eventually have to admit that dreaming is not enough, and sometimes clumsily reach for what he wants. Sometimes.
It takes a while but he finally manages to catch Changmin’s eye. Yoochun goes for a tentative smile. There’s nothing at first, not the slightest change in Changmin’s closed expression - a handful of vertiginous seconds when Yoochun battles with the fear that he might have lost him, and suddenly the hard lines on the young man’s face soften. Yoochun wouldn’t even be able to name it. It’s not feelings. It’s not comfort. It’s the gentle glow that briefly lights up Changmin’s eyes and that he usually keeps for Yoochun only, deeply rooted and true. Just that.
It’s gone the next moment, and Changmin reverts to his dish.
Yoochun’s eyes go back to Changmin’s hand.
He’s still here, he thinks, the tight knot in his chest loosening for the first time in days. Still here, and it’ll be alright.
~
Today Changmin called Yoochun four times; the first to ask how Liam requested those transfers - was it by phone? email? can it be tracked? does he have proof? -, the second to know if Yoochun used some of that money himself, and the third to tell him to stop hanging up on him. The fourth time was just to listen to his voice and decide if it was leaning more toward resigned self-bashing or panicked denial. Changmin couldn’t pick one, and knew they still had a long way to go. There are only five days left.
He couldn’t focus at work today. Changmin spent the day spacing out, staring blankly at his mail inbox, startling whenever someone came close and ignoring phone calls that he hoped weren’t important, until his manager told him he didn’t look so good and he’d better go home.
Indeed Changmin doesn’t sleep much. He doesn’t eat well. The anxiety is still here, as he predicted. The lump in his throat and the conflicting feelings, and that painful twinge in his heart whenever he remembers the helpless look in Yoochun’s eyes - all of it is still here.
Today, when Changmin called Yoochun the fourth time, he told him it was alright. It wasn’t such a big deal. It wasn’t so serious, it was alright, it would be fine. Yoochun calmed down at last and Changmin hung up after a two hours call, utterly drained and silently praying that he hadn’t lied to him for the first time in his life.
~
Yoochun is bored.
He emptied two packs of rice crackers. He played games on his phone until it ran out of battery. He read the promotional flyer for the new Japanese restaurant down the street. He read it again. He read it enough times to know by heart the price and composition of all 14 sushi sets. He tried a dozen different positions on the couch. He even considered paying attention to the sappy drama unraveling on TV.
“Changmin…”
“Sshh.”
“She’s gonna leave him.”
“Shut up.”
“She doesn’t care anymore. She likes the bad boy now.”
“…”
“They always end up with the bad boy.”
“…”
“People watching that crap are dreamy teens and bored housewives, and they want it to be the bad boy.”
“…”
“Which one are you? The dreamy teen or the bored housewife?”
The younger man throws a cushion in his general direction, eyes riveted on the TV screen.
“You used to hate that stuff” Yoochun comments, catching the cushion before it falls amidst the beers and snacks spread on the low table. When it comes to throwing things Changmin has a better aim than Jaejoong, but only by a small margin.
“Shut up or I’m throwing you out.”
“It’s my place, you can’t throw me out.”
“I’m hungry.”
“For real now??”
Changmin doesn’t answer and Yoochun sighs deeply to signify he doesn’t approve, standing from the couch all the same. He drags his feet to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There are beers, pizzas, a couple “homemade” dishes - courtesy of Jaejoong’s mom -, three packs of instant soup and a compartment full of untouched vegetables - bought by Changmin when he showed up four days ago and dealt with the mess that was the apartment. A foreseeable screaming contest starts on the TV next door but Yoochun ignores it, focusing on the fridge’s contents.
Changmin likes chocolate, he thinks out of habit, but there is none here. He also likes Italian, Thai, Western, Japanese, Chinese, Korean… well. He isn’t too regarding when it comes to food in general but isn’t too fond of warmed up industrial dishes, and Yoochun loves Jaejoong’s mom but he’s also lucid about her cooking skills. He seriously doubts its homemade quality.
11 is quite good at cooking, for one. He sometimes cooks for his sisters. He doesn’t mind cleaning up, except dusting. 11 hates dusting. He doesn’t like evening dramas but watches them anyway. He was part of a theatre group in high school and that’s where he met his first girlfriend. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight. He doesn’t believe in UFOs. He doesn’t believe in horoscopes. If 11 has a son someday, he wants to name him after his grandfather. He loves snow and peppermint sweets, and he absolutely abhors soccer. And he doesn’t like men. He 100% doesn’t. Make it 200%.
Changmin asked to kiss him just a few weeks ago.
Changmin hasn’t bought peppermint sweets in ages but those days he’s addicted to caramel toffees. He sort of fell in love with Jungmi the moment he saw her. He can be soccer-tolerant when it comes to Junsu. He still loves snow and he still hates dusting, but Yoochun caught him reading the horoscope several times already. Changmin watches evening dramas and well, it doesn’t quite look like he doesn’t like it. Changmin is no longer 11, just like Yoochun is no longer 12.
They have changed.
A high-pitched shriek rises from the room next door and Yoochun snaps out of his contemplation of the fridge’s unappealing contents, picking a pizza at random. He puts it in the microwave, aware of dramatic sobbing and heart wrenching violins wailing in the background. He pictures Changmin sitting straight on the couch, wide-eyed and anxious, engrossed in that crappy show. Yoochun smiles.
He loves him.
11 or Changmin, or whatever facets of him he has yet to uncover, he just loves him.
He comes back to the living room, makes space for the pizza on the low table, and sits back on the couch. Closer to Changmin than before. Their thighs nearly touching, their shoulders an inch away -the exact gap needed to summon again that physical tension… the newfound density that lingers between them since they kissed, and that neither of them dares to disturb. Yoochun stares at the TV screen without really watching it. He’s replaying it again.
The first hesitant contact of their lips, so farfetched, so improbable. What came after.
Yoochun closes his eyes to remember better. There was want, there was need. There was yearning so deep that he had gotten used to live with it, like it was a part of him. He would never have him, and suddenly Changmin was here, and he had him. He actually had him. Overturning the world as he saw it, shattering a crystal wall and there, on the other side, a dream that was no longer, because reality had already weaved gravity into it.
So much had changed already, and he didn’t see it happen. It’s still changing.
It’s changing fast.
Yoochun is distantly aware that it is vanishing - the one dream he refused to let go of but the one he refused to call “hope”, the one he wouldn’t fight for but would exist through. That flawless image is fading fast, evanescent already, losing its strength swiftly and painlessly. It’s receding, leaving space for another future to grow.
One that has “hope” in it, and one that Yoochun could make happen and live for.
The evening drama has long ended when Changmin turns the TV off at last. He only still had it on for the sake of keeping some background noise, trying to prevent himself from thinking too much. It didn’t work, and truth is, Yoochun didn’t make it easier. But then again, when did Yoochun ever make it easier?
Changmin squirms, uncomfortably aware of the body leaning heavily against his and feeling more than a little too hot now, after over one hour of incessant abuses to his personal space. He had to endure first the furtive glances, then the not-so-inconspicuous efforts at sitting closer and closer and even a few daring touches, until Yoochun apparently thought it a good idea to literally fall asleep on him. Changmin has been doing his best since not to think, not to move, and not to breathe too often.
Now without the TV noise, it feels eerily quiet. Changmin’s gaze travels around the room, stopping on the broken fan next to the desk, and the towering pile of bottles and boxes that Yoochun has yet to drop in the recyclable bin outside. He should be annoyed. He normally would. He’d like to be - being annoyed at Yoochun is a perfectly customary and manageable feeling, and Changmin wouldn’t be against customary and manageable for once.
He surrenders eventually, and ventures a glance down at Yoochun’s face.
He swallows as something inside his chest shifts softly - like a piece of his heart got dislodged and is trying to find its right place again. Something intimate, sensitive and stubborn all at once. And now that he gave in, Changmin finds himself unable to look away.
Over the past months, he struggled to tame that feeling he called “awareness” around Yoochun - the older man’s looks, his voice, his gestures, his presence near and what it meant to him. But “awareness” seems a much crippled word to describe what he feels now, after Yoochun kissed him… right now, with the whole length of the other man’s body leaning against his own, his hair brushing against his face, their legs touching, a hand on Changmin’s thigh. That soft something tugs at his heart again, harder.
He doesn’t really mind, not anymore.
Yoochun seemed better today. Changmin rounded up on him again with the usual questions about Liam, circumstances, evidence and facts, and this time he got a reassuring reaction. Yoochun shot him a glare, reluctantly answered the questions and went to sulk in the bathroom. He didn’t look like a deer caught in the headlights, didn’t stumble over his explanations, and provided actual answers instead of a string of overly defensive “I didn’t do it”.
There are two days left, and Changmin can finally spare some time for other thoughts.
He raises a hand tentatively, not quite aware himself of what he’s doing until his fingers brush against Yoochun’s hair. His heart speeds up. It’s still so quiet… it’s late, it’s just the two of them, and one by one, Changmin hesitantly frees sensations that are still so new that he barely dares to acknowledge what they do to him. Yoochun’s body is warm against his. His arm pressed fully against Changmin’s bare one… their legs touching, an open hand resting lightly on Changmin’s thigh, soft hair brushing against his chin - all small touches, nothing he hasn’t felt before, except that now his skin prickles wherever it touches Yoochun’s.
Cautiously, Changmin runs his fingers through his hair. The urge to touch. The vague sentiment that it may answer some questions. And he doesn’t want to, he tries to stop it, but his thoughts shift to Jungmi and how it felt to be with her. The feelings they shared. The love that was theirs.
It’s not the same with Yoochun… Changmin isn’t sure whether he can compare or not, he feels guilty about it but he can’t help it - it’s not the same. He loved Jungmi, and right now, the way he feels and that soft curl in his heart, it’s different. He’s still staring at Yoochun’s face, still fighting an overwhelming onslaught of foreign sensations, and yes… yes, that’s exactly it. Foreign. It’s a friend’s face he’s staring at, it’s a man’s body he’s feeling now, and every thought and every touch are unfamiliar and hard to apprehend.
But he can’t deny that he’s thinking them, feeling them, and Changmin doesn’t even try. He wonders if he could get used to it. He leans a bit toward Yoochun, just because, and the older man unconsciously snuggles closer to him, a soft sigh escaping his mouth. Changmin’s hand stills on top of Yoochun’s head, but he doesn’t remove it. He doesn’t move away.
It’s not only because he wants to stay, but also because Yoochun needs him here.
Yoochun needs him. He always has.
Changmin starts stroking Yoochun’s hair again, his gaze softening. There were countless times… countless occurrences when Yoochun needed him - because he was depressed or bored, because no one wanted to go to the movies with him, because he didn’t know how to fill his income tax return, because it was Yoochun and Changmin was supposed to be here for him. Always.
Yoochun needs him, and once again, Changmin thinks of Jungmi. He wonders if she needed him.
He wonders if he needed her.
But whether Changmin needs Yoochun or not, he doesn’t even think of asking himself.
He’s smiling. His fingers lowers to Yoochun’s face, and he lets them run lightly on the older man’s forehead and temples, following the outlines of his face. Slowly. Carefully. Changmin isn’t thinking of Jungmi anymore, and the foreign thoughts from earlier are gone. The tip of his fingers brush past the corner of Yoochun’s eye and the older man frowns in his sleep, burying his face in Changmin’s T-shirt to escape the intrusion. Changmin’s smile widens - fond, full of the deeply anchored affection that he gave up finding a name for.
He isn’t thinking, comparing, wondering. He’s with Yoochun, and everything’s alright.
Every piece of his heart is right where it should be.
Part 16.
Note: I couldn't resist and added some dramaaaa~~ because I can XD
I'm trying not to make it too angsty though, I believe those 2 have reached a point in their relationship where their need of each other goes beyond not just reality & obstacles, but also their own struggles in labeling that same relationship. Like whatever happens to them or between them, they'll naturally revert back to their equilibrium, the usual pattern they built over the years - the talks, video games, hot chocolate, magnanimous and such ^^
Stopping here before I start rambling: one more chapter + epilogue left, it's ending soon now, thank you again for reading/commenting <3
Pairings: YooMin
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Fluff, slight Angst
Summary:
There is only one truth, Changmin believes, and only one question - is it the one you want?There is only chance, Yoochun thinks - the meteor crashes, or it doesn’t. And if it does the only question is, will you run fast enough or let the stars collide?
Part 15. Of mistakes and changes.
Yoochun plays dead during the three weeks that follow The Kiss.
He doesn’t answer his phone, doesn’t open the door, doesn’t reply emails, doesn’t show up at Jaejoong’s or Yoowhan’s or any of the places where he usually hangs out, and basically works on convincing the universe that he vanished into thin air.
Changmin would like to say he’s worried. He’d like to say he understands. He’d like to say it doesn’t bother him. But Changmin is angry - sort of furious, actually. It doesn’t help at all that the only news he got about Yoochun during those three weeks was through Jaejoong, a phone call. The bad kind of call. More like a flow of nonsensical reproaches and accusations and to crown it all a “stop messing with him” that downgraded Changmin’s mood from “generally cranky” to “downright pissed”.
So Yoochun is upset, alright. Fine. He gets it. However Changmin figures he’s not bad off himself in that department, and he could well do with some of the attention. His life is a mess too. His feelings. His thoughts, his beliefs, his lines, everything is just a mess and he needs to talk it through except Yoochun is being an ass and he decided to pretend he doesn’t exist exactly when Changmin just really, really would like to maybe have an adult conversation with him and actually solve stuff.
Maybe he should behave like a fucking drama queen too and act childish about more or less everything so that others will deign having basic regards for his perfectly busted and wonderfully screwed up emotions.
Hell, maybe he should go to Australia.
Changmin doesn’t want to go to Australia.
Changmin is miserable and confused, and he wants to see Yoochun. He will agree that maybe The Kiss was a bad idea. He will blame himself for it if need be. He will admit that it was most certainly selfish and not quite sane and untimely and rash - make it the worst idea of the century - but still, it’s done, and Changmin just cannot go on pretending that it never happened.
As it is, he has been able to think of little else those past days - when he wasn’t busy mentally choking Yoochun and his pathetic head-in-the-sand strategy. It’s only a way of speaking of course. Changmin doesn’t want to kill Yoochun. Just squeeze his neck a little tight, and if they are lucky that will force some of the idiocy out of his stupid brain.
In truth, Changmin is extremely unhappy and a tad depressed, and he really wants to see Yoochun. He wants to hear his voice. He wants to see him laugh. He wants just the tiniest evidence that they are still alright. He wants to talk about The Kiss. He wants to say what he probably should have said before, and what he would have told Yoochun after if the other hadn’t freaked out on him.
Changmin feels very much lost and alone, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
It’s like he took it upon himself to make a step forward hoping to close that newfound gap between Yoochun and him, and it was scary, then Yoochun just had to bolt in the opposite direction. And now Changmin is left standing awkwardly on the other side of that line he just crossed, and there is no one waiting for him here. No one to tell him it was the right thing to do. And no way for him to go back like “oops sorry I didn’t mean to please ignore me here nothing happened and bye”.
Changmin is angry, miserable, confused, lost and all in all very upset. Also increasingly aware of the inevitable. You don’t spend years hanging out with Yoochun without resigning yourself to a few facts - in the present case, the fact that when Yoochun crashes into a wall, he first acts like it killed him then madly runs away and eventually pretends nothing happened so nothing hurts. Right now he’s still at stage one, and Changmin knows he’d better catch him one way or another before Yoochun moves onto stage two and flies to the North pole.
He definitely has to get a hold of him before stage three kicks in, and Yoochun starts pretending The Kiss didn’t happen.
Because The Kiss happened indeed, and it did things to Changmin. A lot of things, actually. It sort of blew up in his face but in a nice way, and he would be hard pressed to explain why kissing Yoochun had seemed such a strange idea mere weeks ago. Changmin keeps thinking about it. Yoochun’s lips. His hands and the way he held him. His voice and the blunt edge in it, low and rough and different. His eyes… his damn deep eyes and that look in them - an echo of the day when Yoochun said “I love you” except that this time the pain was gone, and only love and need shone. Burned.
It was Yoochun but not quite Yoochun, and then suddenly it wasn’t Yoochun at all. Suddenly there was that man who was anything but awkward, insecure or playful. There was that man whom Changmin did not know, a man who knew exactly where he stood and what he wanted, and who wasn’t scared of taking it. And it surprised him, it did, but Changmin as well has stopped seeing Yoochun as a friend only.
It took some time but he accepted it now. He also accepted that there was more to Yoochun than the older man wanted him to see.
What Changmin needs now is to talk to him, but he knows Yoochun, and the chances of the older man coming to him first are ridiculously low. Make it zero. Make it negative. Changmin can either wait for a miracle, or try and drag him out of his cave himself, and he was never one to rely on miracles to save the day. Even if option 2 is a bit risky, since Changmin’s usual way of solving embroiled matters is to grab one end of the knot and shake hard hoping it will come undone.
But in truth, Changmin simply really really wants to see Yoochun. It’s not about swallowing one’s pride. It’s not about forgiveness. It’s not even about making that first step (again) before it’s too late. Changmin just wants to see Yoochun, and hear his voice, and take his hand. He wants to tell him it’s okay. It’s fine. They are fine. They will be.
It was all so complicated recently, but now it has become surprisingly simple.
It has become possible.
~
Yoochun knows he made a mistake the moment he opens the door. He isn’t sure what makes him give in. Probably the very convincing note in Changmin’s voice when he says fine, whatever, he’s going to break it open on the count of three, “one”, “two”…
“Three-“
Yoochun yanks the door open. Next thing he knows, the funny feeling is back in his stomach. The pressure in his chest. The irrepressible urge to reach out, touch Changmin’s face, take his hands, hold him close, get rid of every gap between them - in a very physical way. Yoochun swallows hard. Kissing Changmin revealed a broad field of yet unexplored possibilities and sensations, and said possibilities are making it hard for him to focus on the priorities at hand. Meaning Changmin’s ‘you’re-so-dead-just-give-me-one-good-reason-not-to-kill-you-right-now’ face.
Maybe that’s when Yoochun should apologize. Or lie and say he was abroad, old friends to visit, all that. Or tell him he looks good. Pissed, but very good. Deadly good. Maybe he should just shut up. Changmin’s eyes are throwing daggers at him and he finally gets the hint, and moves aside to let him in. He swallows again when the other’s arm brushes against his shoulder, and closes his eyes, repressing a sigh. He’s so screwed.
Changmin steps inside and looks around at the wreckage that once was the living room. The disapproving expression on his face speaks volumes, and Yoochun knows he’ll have a hard time making up for this one. He sits down on the only chair in the room and looks at Changmin as the other methodically inspects the surrounding war zone. He doesn’t know what to tell him. There is a lot he wants to tell him, but he figures none of it is appropriate.
Things like, Yoochun is a mess when Changmin isn’t around. His life goes all the wrong ways when Changmin is not here. The past days were hell and he can’t fix it alone. He just keeps doing it all wrong. All wrong. He’s a failure, he knows, and he feels awful. And he’s sorry about the kiss but then again not really, because that was heaven, except at the end. He did screw up toward the end.
Changmin picks up an empty bottle of cheap liquor between his thumb and his index. He holds it in the air and wrinkles his nose, and throws a dark look his way. Yoochun hastily looks down and feigns deep interest in his feet. He hears a thump when the bottle is dropped on the carpet and squeezes his eyes shut when Changmin yanks the curtains open, letting the bright midday light flow into the room, crudely revealing the evidence of Yoochun’s chaotic collapse the past weeks.
“Well.”
Changmin’s voice is icy cold. Yoochun tries to make himself very small on his chair. His head hurts badly and he fleetingly considers running to lock himself inside the bedroom to avoid confronting reality just yet. He isn’t ready to handle Changmin’s disappointment now on top of everything else.
“Want some water?”
Changmin’s voice may just have softened ever so slightly, and Yoochun nods without thinking. He’s still staring intently at his feet and he doesn’t move from his chair as the other goes to the kitchen. He waits till Changmin is gone to finally look up. And damn, it is a mess.
It looks a lot like his student room back during university after a two days party, only without the drunk bodies splayed on the floor. Jaejoong was right when he said that Yoochun needed to draw a clearer line between “coping” and “drinking”. He said if Yoochun really needed to drink to cope, maybe he could try tea instead - but not black tea of course. With honey in it, honey was good for coping. Many things didn’t have alcohol in it and were good for coping, he said, and Yoochun answered he didn’t want to cope, he wanted to die. So Jaejoong hung up on him.
Yoochun glares at the carpeted floor. It didn’t take long for him to realize that throwing Changmin out like this that day had been a terrible move. But then he felt too ashamed to call him. A day passed, then two, and the more days passed, the harder it became. Then the situation went from bad to disastrous once again.
That’s when Yoochun realizes that Changmin is taking a lot of time just for a glass of water.
‘The kitchen’, he thinks then, and the vivid image of an open letter on the table flashes through his mind. Mindless fear shots up and he stands up abruptly and rushes to kitchen, not bothering that he’s on the verge of panic and overreacting and can matters actually get worse now?
Changmin looks up as soon as Yoochun barges in. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand, a letter in the other. He looks pale. He glances down at the letter, then at Yoochun again, like trying to link both together.
“I didn’t do it” Yoochun blurts out.
Changmin is staring like he doesn’t trust him, and Yoochun swallows hard. This time it has nothing to do with kissing or how good Changmin looks even when he’s pissed.
“I didn’t do it” he says again for lack of a better defense, feeling a bit sick now, and his throbbing headache isn’t helping. “Changmin, I swear… I swear I didn’t know about it…”
Changmin stares incredulously for a moment more, before he seems to get a grip. He puts the glass of water on the table and faces him. His expression went back to anger, but it’s different now. Cold. Accusing. His fingers grip the sheet of paper tighter, with no consideration for the official Seoul Metropolitan Police logo glaring at the top of the letter.
“It’s a convening notice” Changmin states coolly, “for questioning.”
Now Yoochun feels more than just a bit sick. He feels nauseous and cold yet too hot, and he cannot blame the alcohol in his system this time around.
“It says you’re involved in fraudulent activities” Changmin goes on in the same toneless voice, and Yoochun thought the situation was plainly disastrous before but it just took a turn for the worse.
“I had no idea” he starts pleadingly, “Liam, he… he asked me to arrange those transfers and I thought it was part of the job, I swear I didn’t know about it, I swear!”
Something passes in Changmin’s eyes, too fast for Yoochun to grasp it. His expression shifts slightly. He looks down at the paper once more, reading through it carefully. Yoochun has the words engraved into his mind. He kept repeating them over and over again the past days, and each sentence is like another punch from reality, a reminder of how off he still is. It’s torture to watch Changmin read them, and it’s a small miracle he manages not to run away this time. That, or the weak sensation in his knees that warns him he wouldn’t be able to go far anyway.
When Changmin looks up again, Yoochun can tell he took a decision. His eyes aren’t any less cold however. The anger is still here. The disapproval too.
Changmin doesn’t run away. Changmin despises lies, cowardice and excuses, and Yoochun is once again reminded of why the mere thought of Changmin maybe feeling something for him is ridiculous. He’s not even sure why Changmin calls him a friend - if Changmin still considers him a friend, and judging by his expression right now, nothing could be less sure.
“You didn’t know?” he asks curtly.
“I didn’t-“
“You really had no idea about-“
“No!”
“How could you not know?” Changmin frowns, without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. It hurts more than Yoochun thought possible, because he can’t remember a time when Changmin actually did not care. “You have been working with him for months, you talked to him every day, obviously you should have noticed something was going on.”
“Well I did not!” Yoochun bristles, fear and anger breaking through, and pain, because he hates the way Changmin is looking at him right now, and he hates that he cannot make it go away. “I didn’t because I’m an idiot, and yeah that’s the only reason why Liam picked me for that job! He needed a scapegoat and here I am, the perfect fool!”
“Calm down, it-”
“I won’t! I trusted him! For the first time in my life I had a damn real job and I was doing well!” Yoochun keeps shouting as treacherous tears gather in his eyes, and the words pour out uncontrollably. “But of course you don’t get it! It always works out for you! Always!!”
“Yoochun-“
“And when have you ever been in trouble anyway? Oh no, you are better than that! You can tell a scam when you see one, can’t you?? You are not a pathetic loser and if I fucking failed again I can just blame myself and my retarded brain, right?!”
He isn’t done but Changmin suddenly comes up to him. He’s furious, Yoochun realizes too late. His eyes are storming - plain anger, unaltered and cold - towering over him, his face scarily white.
“Get out” he says, his voice surprisingly even, but his expression instinctively make Yoochun recoil.
“Changmin…“
“Go to Jaejoong. Take a walk. I don’t care, but don’t stay here.”
“I-“
“You were supposed to go meet them this morning” Changmin abruptly changes tactics, thrusting the police convocation in his face. “You didn’t go, did you?”
Yoochun says nothing. His heart feels terribly heavy inside his chest - because it’s unfair, because he couldn’t, the apprehension, their questions, no answer, he did not know, he didn’t, and who would believe that. He shakes his head. Changmin doesn’t add a word. His expression is enough, and Yoochun turns around. He leaves the apartment like in a dream, or rather a nightmare, wondering for the umpteenth time why on earth he can’t change, and where did he go wrong.
Changmin sighs deeply as soon as Yoochun is out of sight. He unsteadily takes a step back and leans against the table for support, eyes closed, struggling to regulate his breathing. His hands are shaking. His chest feels tight, pressured, painful, battling with conflicting emotions that he’s not used to deal with, and that just got the best of him. He can’t afford to sort them out right now, not with what he just found out.
Yoochun messed up big time now, and that’s not a wall he crashed into. It’s a fucking mountain.
Changmin rubs his face with his hands harshly, willing negative thoughts away. He looks around the kitchen, his eyes stopping on every sign that Yoochun slowly but truly broke down over the past few days. Again. Except that this time it goes beyond the usual issues with the society in general and adulthood in particular. It’s bad. Real bad.
Changmin looks down at his shaky hands, and tightens them into fists. He obliges himself to take a few more deep breaths. The lump in his throat refuses to go away, and the anxiety fluttering in his chest is not likely to disappear any time soon. He thinks of the panicked look in Yoochun’s eyes, his heart tightening even more. Changmin saw the shame in them. The dread. Facing something way too big for him to handle alone - “reality”, strangers would say, strangers who don’t know Yoochun and the world Yoochun is struggling to live in. Changmin knows that world, and he knows very well it doesn’t quite exist. That’s why it is so frail. That’s why he likes it.
He breathes in deeply once more and takes his phone in his pocket. He’s not sure there is a way to fix this, but someone needs to try.
~
“You look awful.”
“You already said that.”
“I did?”
“Four times.”
“How strange. Did you have tea like I told you?” Jaejoong asks, looking around expectantly like a magic teapot is about to summon itself. “Tea is good.”
“Yeah I heard you the first hundred times” Yoochun mutters, playing with his chopsticks nervously and trying not to look too often on his left at the silent figure sitting there.
It’s been just one day since Changmin and he argued. When Yoochun came back after three hours - the time to cool his head and regain a semblance of self-control - Changmin was gone but the apartment was spotless. The fridge was full, that cursed letter was nowhere in sight and there was a note on the table with an address asking to meet the next day for lunch.
Yoochun texted him ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’. He got no reply. He figured that was to be expected, and spent the first half of the night trying to decide if that lunch together would be the “I’m done with you, take care and bye” kind of meeting. He spent the other half talking to his pillow and rehearsing a “don’t do this” speech just in case. He finally fell asleep at six in the morning, while making believe that nothing had gone wrong with the kiss, the letter never happened, and it didn’t feel like his future had become a combination of several dead ends.
So for various reasons, Yoochun had felt reassured at first when he saw that Changmin had asked Jaejoong to come to the restaurant too. Now he isn’t so sure. The younger man hasn’t said a word since he arrived, mostly poking at his food instead of eating it - which in itself is alarming - and blatantly avoiding looking at him. Yoochun knows that he has a lot of explaining and apologizing to do, but someone’s rambling is making it hard for him to start a serious conversation.
Jaejoong decided last week that he was going to be vegan, and he’s being quite fervent about it.
“Did you take milk with your tea?”
“Yeah” Yoochun answers dully, not knowing and not caring what the question was.
“You shouldn’t. Milk is bad” Jaejoong states enthusiastically, attacking his third bowl of peanuts. Everything else on the menu has meat, or eggs, or whatever it is that Jaejoong cannot eat anymore. Yoochun saw the look in his eyes when Changmin’s and his (carnivore) orders arrived though. He can safely say that Jaejoong’s vegan phase will be over by the end of next week.
“You have no idea what they do to cows.”
“I’m not sure that I want to know.”
“That’s the problem!” Jaejoong shouts, attracting several customers’ eyes to their table. “You don’t want to know, no one does! Because it’s vicious. Barbaric! Inhumane!”
Yoochun glances at Changmin, who’s holding a slice of beef with his chopstick and staring blankly, like wondering if his ethics allow him to proceed. It’s a yes. He eats it, puts his chopsticks down, and turns to look at him for the first time since they sat down. Yoochun tries not to flinch. Years with Changmin haven’t made him immune to that stare yet, it seems.
“When did Liam first ask you to handle those money transfers?”
Buried anxiety shoots up at once, gripping Yoochun’s heart again. He pushes his plate away, suddenly not hungry at all.
“Changmin-“
“Just answer the question.”
Changmin’s expression remains irritatingly unruffled. Yoochun frowns. He’d like to get angry at him but that didn’t turn out so well the last time. He’d rather have to deal with a doubtful Changmin than not have a Changmin to deal with at all.
“About six months ago, I think.”
“So you had been working with him for two months already, right?”
“Something like that…”
Changmin nods. He still doesn’t look away, and Yoochun is having a hard time not shifting in his seat.
“What did he say the first time? About the transfer, what was the reason?”
“He needed funds for here…” Yoochun starts slowly, hating every bit of that conversation. “He said that we had to start somewhere.”
“And someone else withdrew all of it?”
“Changmin-“
“Did they or did they not?”
“They did” Yoochun answers curtly, “Liam said one of his contacts would take it and use the cash to do market research in South Korea, or something like that. I had to give them the account numbers.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“No.”
“But you were in charge of the transaction.”
“Yes.”
“The entire transfer was under your responsibility?”
“Yes, and yes I’ve been an idiot, and no I had no idea” Yoochun snaps, “seriously if you made me come here for interrogation, then just say you don’t trust me and be done with it!”
“I was just asking” Changmin answers, unfazed.
He goes back to his dish as if nothing happened. Yoochun looks down at his own plate, thinking he might be sick. Jaejoong is looking back and forth between the two of them, his eyes the size of saucers. No one tries to stop him when he tentatively starts on the topic of poultry rearing, and he quickly warms up to his topic. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoochun sees the faces of some of the customers around grow pale. One girl pushes away her chicken pasta when Jaejoong gets to the bloody core of it and goes for particularly detailed descriptions.
On Yoochun’s left, Changmin is back to being silent, and all the nice words he prepared about being sorry and wanting to fix it are falling apart in Yoochun’s mind.
Yoochun doesn’t know how to fix it. He knows saying ‘sorry’ won’t be enough. He doesn’t understand what Changmin is trying to do now. He looks at the young man’s hand on the table and dreams that he’s brave enough to take it and hold on tight. He dreams. That’s all Yoochun could ever do - dream, and eventually have to admit that dreaming is not enough, and sometimes clumsily reach for what he wants. Sometimes.
It takes a while but he finally manages to catch Changmin’s eye. Yoochun goes for a tentative smile. There’s nothing at first, not the slightest change in Changmin’s closed expression - a handful of vertiginous seconds when Yoochun battles with the fear that he might have lost him, and suddenly the hard lines on the young man’s face soften. Yoochun wouldn’t even be able to name it. It’s not feelings. It’s not comfort. It’s the gentle glow that briefly lights up Changmin’s eyes and that he usually keeps for Yoochun only, deeply rooted and true. Just that.
It’s gone the next moment, and Changmin reverts to his dish.
Yoochun’s eyes go back to Changmin’s hand.
He’s still here, he thinks, the tight knot in his chest loosening for the first time in days. Still here, and it’ll be alright.
~
Today Changmin called Yoochun four times; the first to ask how Liam requested those transfers - was it by phone? email? can it be tracked? does he have proof? -, the second to know if Yoochun used some of that money himself, and the third to tell him to stop hanging up on him. The fourth time was just to listen to his voice and decide if it was leaning more toward resigned self-bashing or panicked denial. Changmin couldn’t pick one, and knew they still had a long way to go. There are only five days left.
He couldn’t focus at work today. Changmin spent the day spacing out, staring blankly at his mail inbox, startling whenever someone came close and ignoring phone calls that he hoped weren’t important, until his manager told him he didn’t look so good and he’d better go home.
Indeed Changmin doesn’t sleep much. He doesn’t eat well. The anxiety is still here, as he predicted. The lump in his throat and the conflicting feelings, and that painful twinge in his heart whenever he remembers the helpless look in Yoochun’s eyes - all of it is still here.
Today, when Changmin called Yoochun the fourth time, he told him it was alright. It wasn’t such a big deal. It wasn’t so serious, it was alright, it would be fine. Yoochun calmed down at last and Changmin hung up after a two hours call, utterly drained and silently praying that he hadn’t lied to him for the first time in his life.
~
Yoochun is bored.
He emptied two packs of rice crackers. He played games on his phone until it ran out of battery. He read the promotional flyer for the new Japanese restaurant down the street. He read it again. He read it enough times to know by heart the price and composition of all 14 sushi sets. He tried a dozen different positions on the couch. He even considered paying attention to the sappy drama unraveling on TV.
“Changmin…”
“Sshh.”
“She’s gonna leave him.”
“Shut up.”
“She doesn’t care anymore. She likes the bad boy now.”
“…”
“They always end up with the bad boy.”
“…”
“People watching that crap are dreamy teens and bored housewives, and they want it to be the bad boy.”
“…”
“Which one are you? The dreamy teen or the bored housewife?”
The younger man throws a cushion in his general direction, eyes riveted on the TV screen.
“You used to hate that stuff” Yoochun comments, catching the cushion before it falls amidst the beers and snacks spread on the low table. When it comes to throwing things Changmin has a better aim than Jaejoong, but only by a small margin.
“Shut up or I’m throwing you out.”
“It’s my place, you can’t throw me out.”
“I’m hungry.”
“For real now??”
Changmin doesn’t answer and Yoochun sighs deeply to signify he doesn’t approve, standing from the couch all the same. He drags his feet to the kitchen and opens the fridge. There are beers, pizzas, a couple “homemade” dishes - courtesy of Jaejoong’s mom -, three packs of instant soup and a compartment full of untouched vegetables - bought by Changmin when he showed up four days ago and dealt with the mess that was the apartment. A foreseeable screaming contest starts on the TV next door but Yoochun ignores it, focusing on the fridge’s contents.
Changmin likes chocolate, he thinks out of habit, but there is none here. He also likes Italian, Thai, Western, Japanese, Chinese, Korean… well. He isn’t too regarding when it comes to food in general but isn’t too fond of warmed up industrial dishes, and Yoochun loves Jaejoong’s mom but he’s also lucid about her cooking skills. He seriously doubts its homemade quality.
11 is quite good at cooking, for one. He sometimes cooks for his sisters. He doesn’t mind cleaning up, except dusting. 11 hates dusting. He doesn’t like evening dramas but watches them anyway. He was part of a theatre group in high school and that’s where he met his first girlfriend. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight. He doesn’t believe in UFOs. He doesn’t believe in horoscopes. If 11 has a son someday, he wants to name him after his grandfather. He loves snow and peppermint sweets, and he absolutely abhors soccer. And he doesn’t like men. He 100% doesn’t. Make it 200%.
Changmin asked to kiss him just a few weeks ago.
Changmin hasn’t bought peppermint sweets in ages but those days he’s addicted to caramel toffees. He sort of fell in love with Jungmi the moment he saw her. He can be soccer-tolerant when it comes to Junsu. He still loves snow and he still hates dusting, but Yoochun caught him reading the horoscope several times already. Changmin watches evening dramas and well, it doesn’t quite look like he doesn’t like it. Changmin is no longer 11, just like Yoochun is no longer 12.
They have changed.
A high-pitched shriek rises from the room next door and Yoochun snaps out of his contemplation of the fridge’s unappealing contents, picking a pizza at random. He puts it in the microwave, aware of dramatic sobbing and heart wrenching violins wailing in the background. He pictures Changmin sitting straight on the couch, wide-eyed and anxious, engrossed in that crappy show. Yoochun smiles.
He loves him.
11 or Changmin, or whatever facets of him he has yet to uncover, he just loves him.
He comes back to the living room, makes space for the pizza on the low table, and sits back on the couch. Closer to Changmin than before. Their thighs nearly touching, their shoulders an inch away -the exact gap needed to summon again that physical tension… the newfound density that lingers between them since they kissed, and that neither of them dares to disturb. Yoochun stares at the TV screen without really watching it. He’s replaying it again.
The first hesitant contact of their lips, so farfetched, so improbable. What came after.
Yoochun closes his eyes to remember better. There was want, there was need. There was yearning so deep that he had gotten used to live with it, like it was a part of him. He would never have him, and suddenly Changmin was here, and he had him. He actually had him. Overturning the world as he saw it, shattering a crystal wall and there, on the other side, a dream that was no longer, because reality had already weaved gravity into it.
So much had changed already, and he didn’t see it happen. It’s still changing.
It’s changing fast.
Yoochun is distantly aware that it is vanishing - the one dream he refused to let go of but the one he refused to call “hope”, the one he wouldn’t fight for but would exist through. That flawless image is fading fast, evanescent already, losing its strength swiftly and painlessly. It’s receding, leaving space for another future to grow.
One that has “hope” in it, and one that Yoochun could make happen and live for.
The evening drama has long ended when Changmin turns the TV off at last. He only still had it on for the sake of keeping some background noise, trying to prevent himself from thinking too much. It didn’t work, and truth is, Yoochun didn’t make it easier. But then again, when did Yoochun ever make it easier?
Changmin squirms, uncomfortably aware of the body leaning heavily against his and feeling more than a little too hot now, after over one hour of incessant abuses to his personal space. He had to endure first the furtive glances, then the not-so-inconspicuous efforts at sitting closer and closer and even a few daring touches, until Yoochun apparently thought it a good idea to literally fall asleep on him. Changmin has been doing his best since not to think, not to move, and not to breathe too often.
Now without the TV noise, it feels eerily quiet. Changmin’s gaze travels around the room, stopping on the broken fan next to the desk, and the towering pile of bottles and boxes that Yoochun has yet to drop in the recyclable bin outside. He should be annoyed. He normally would. He’d like to be - being annoyed at Yoochun is a perfectly customary and manageable feeling, and Changmin wouldn’t be against customary and manageable for once.
He surrenders eventually, and ventures a glance down at Yoochun’s face.
He swallows as something inside his chest shifts softly - like a piece of his heart got dislodged and is trying to find its right place again. Something intimate, sensitive and stubborn all at once. And now that he gave in, Changmin finds himself unable to look away.
Over the past months, he struggled to tame that feeling he called “awareness” around Yoochun - the older man’s looks, his voice, his gestures, his presence near and what it meant to him. But “awareness” seems a much crippled word to describe what he feels now, after Yoochun kissed him… right now, with the whole length of the other man’s body leaning against his own, his hair brushing against his face, their legs touching, a hand on Changmin’s thigh. That soft something tugs at his heart again, harder.
He doesn’t really mind, not anymore.
Yoochun seemed better today. Changmin rounded up on him again with the usual questions about Liam, circumstances, evidence and facts, and this time he got a reassuring reaction. Yoochun shot him a glare, reluctantly answered the questions and went to sulk in the bathroom. He didn’t look like a deer caught in the headlights, didn’t stumble over his explanations, and provided actual answers instead of a string of overly defensive “I didn’t do it”.
There are two days left, and Changmin can finally spare some time for other thoughts.
He raises a hand tentatively, not quite aware himself of what he’s doing until his fingers brush against Yoochun’s hair. His heart speeds up. It’s still so quiet… it’s late, it’s just the two of them, and one by one, Changmin hesitantly frees sensations that are still so new that he barely dares to acknowledge what they do to him. Yoochun’s body is warm against his. His arm pressed fully against Changmin’s bare one… their legs touching, an open hand resting lightly on Changmin’s thigh, soft hair brushing against his chin - all small touches, nothing he hasn’t felt before, except that now his skin prickles wherever it touches Yoochun’s.
Cautiously, Changmin runs his fingers through his hair. The urge to touch. The vague sentiment that it may answer some questions. And he doesn’t want to, he tries to stop it, but his thoughts shift to Jungmi and how it felt to be with her. The feelings they shared. The love that was theirs.
It’s not the same with Yoochun… Changmin isn’t sure whether he can compare or not, he feels guilty about it but he can’t help it - it’s not the same. He loved Jungmi, and right now, the way he feels and that soft curl in his heart, it’s different. He’s still staring at Yoochun’s face, still fighting an overwhelming onslaught of foreign sensations, and yes… yes, that’s exactly it. Foreign. It’s a friend’s face he’s staring at, it’s a man’s body he’s feeling now, and every thought and every touch are unfamiliar and hard to apprehend.
But he can’t deny that he’s thinking them, feeling them, and Changmin doesn’t even try. He wonders if he could get used to it. He leans a bit toward Yoochun, just because, and the older man unconsciously snuggles closer to him, a soft sigh escaping his mouth. Changmin’s hand stills on top of Yoochun’s head, but he doesn’t remove it. He doesn’t move away.
It’s not only because he wants to stay, but also because Yoochun needs him here.
Yoochun needs him. He always has.
Changmin starts stroking Yoochun’s hair again, his gaze softening. There were countless times… countless occurrences when Yoochun needed him - because he was depressed or bored, because no one wanted to go to the movies with him, because he didn’t know how to fill his income tax return, because it was Yoochun and Changmin was supposed to be here for him. Always.
Yoochun needs him, and once again, Changmin thinks of Jungmi. He wonders if she needed him.
He wonders if he needed her.
But whether Changmin needs Yoochun or not, he doesn’t even think of asking himself.
He’s smiling. His fingers lowers to Yoochun’s face, and he lets them run lightly on the older man’s forehead and temples, following the outlines of his face. Slowly. Carefully. Changmin isn’t thinking of Jungmi anymore, and the foreign thoughts from earlier are gone. The tip of his fingers brush past the corner of Yoochun’s eye and the older man frowns in his sleep, burying his face in Changmin’s T-shirt to escape the intrusion. Changmin’s smile widens - fond, full of the deeply anchored affection that he gave up finding a name for.
He isn’t thinking, comparing, wondering. He’s with Yoochun, and everything’s alright.
Every piece of his heart is right where it should be.
Part 16.
Note: I couldn't resist and added some dramaaaa~~ because I can XD
I'm trying not to make it too angsty though, I believe those 2 have reached a point in their relationship where their need of each other goes beyond not just reality & obstacles, but also their own struggles in labeling that same relationship. Like whatever happens to them or between them, they'll naturally revert back to their equilibrium, the usual pattern they built over the years - the talks, video games, hot chocolate, magnanimous and such ^^
Stopping here before I start rambling: one more chapter + epilogue left, it's ending soon now, thank you again for reading/commenting <3