[Meteors] Epilogue - Part B
Chapter: Epilogue, part B
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?
Epilogue. Of important things (Part B).
Changmin is 17 and an awkward teen.
Junsu says all teens are by definition awkward. Changmin disagrees. Actually, he’s very aware of the fact that he belongs to the specific kind of awkward that makes your life hell for the best part of your teenage years. Not that he intends to do anything about it: he does not believe there’s any issue with the person he is, and if he does not fit your usual high school standards then too bad. Changmin is not going to pretend to be someone he isn’t for the sake of going along with people he does not exactly like and who obviously all hate him.
Changmin is 17 and he has no friends.
Junsu always complains when he says that… Junsu enjoys vehemently reminding him once every two weeks that he is here, and what is a friend if not someone who hangs out with you, knows your favorite snacks and video games tactics by heart, lets you call them the worst things without batting an eyelid, and occasionally tries to make life a little easier for you - “Changmin it’s not so complicated, you could just try being nice sometimes, you know, it really helps”. Junsu is here, true. That’s it. He’s here, just like Changmin is here, and neither of them had a say in the matter.
Changmin is 17, awkward, and he has no friends.
He’s also smart - too smart for his own good as Junsu also likes saying whenever Changmin gets into trouble, if only because too smart is better than too awkward, and at times Changmin’s wounded pride needs that sort of soothing words. And Changmin is proud indeed… proud, stubborn, straightforward and very confident in his own abilities and decisions. With a strong tendency to make each and every misfortune that occurs to him into a personal challenge, which is why today he’s still up at 4am, vengefully working on an essay due next week. He’s going to ace that one.
He’s going to crush Chu-Young and wipe the guy’s self-satisfied expression from his face - will serve him right after the nightmare that was yesterday’s sports class - and their teacher will have no choice but to congratulate him even though she does not like him too - all because he tells her when she makes mistakes.
He’s halfway through the fifth page when his cell phone suddenly rings and Changmin startles, his pen ripping on the paper. No one ever calls him - except Junsu, but Junsu sleeps like a baby, programmed to be in bed at 10pm and wake up the next day at 7am sharp. He lets the phone ring once, twice, looking at it without moving, not sure what it could be. The phone rings a third time and Changmin shakes himself out of it. He picks up, blurting out the only sensible thing he can think of.
“It’s 4am.”
The noises that come out from the other side of the line sound like someone is experiencing speech for the first time of their existence and failing to arrange syllables into intelligible words. Changmin’s apprehension that it might be one of his classmates coming up with a brand new bullying idea disappears. He doesn’t know that voice.
“…Who is it?” he asks, already 99% convinced that whoever is on the line right now is either drunk or high on something illegal, or both.
“I’m 12” the stranger answers after a very long pause, in a somewhat confident tone that does not cover up the slur in his voice. Changmin can’t help but roll his eyes. Drunk, definitely. He should hang up but something - that weird answer, the late hour, or the welcome distraction from the bitter feelings that have chased him all day - prevents him from doing so.
“Are you sure?” he goes on instead, deciding he might as well have some fun at the expense of whoever was thinking of pranking him.
“…What?”
“You sound older than that.”
There’s a silence. Then the guy starts giggling, a communicative kind of laughter that brings a smile to Changmin’s lips. He puts his pen aside on the desk, his essay temporarily forgotten.
Ten minutes later not only is his essay forgotten, but Changmin also erased from his mind all thoughts of Chu-Young, teachers, classmates, and the awkwardness of teenage years. He’s grinning widely, listening to whoever is calling him - 12 it seems, at least he’s adamant that’s his name - and occasionally feeding him quick questions and comments that invariably trigger a new uncontrolled flow of mixed absurdities and deeper thoughts on life.
Changmin learns that there is a friend called Jaejoong… that actually there are many other friends who are most certainly just as wasted, and that 12 drunk-singing is the most entertaining stuff he’s heard since his father decided to butcher Changmin’s cousin’s favorite song at her wedding last year. He also learns that 12 thinks high-school is ‘a big fat lot of bullshit’ (not the words Changmin would have used but he wholeheartedly agrees with the general spirit of it), that university is even worse (now that’s not good news), that there’s a pimple on Jaejoong’s forehead, and that 12 is sad because he never had a childhood dream and it really sucks, because only people with childhood dreams get to do something of their lives.
It’s nearly 6am when they end the call. The night sky is already clearing as Changmin goes to bed and curls up under the covers, feeling wide awake in spite of a sleepless night, with a weird warm feeling floating inside his chest - like something good happened. Like it could be important.
And for some reason, taking his phone a few hours later to text the stranger who kept him up till dawn seems just the natural thing to do.
~
I’m thinking, one question each every day
It could be fun!!
Changmin contemplates his phone, unconsciously gnawing on his lower lip as he tries to think of the possible unwelcome implications of 12’s suggestion. The morning bus is filled with the usual ruckus of his fellow students, whom he’s making a point not to be a part of - huddled by the window, schoolbag held protectively on his knees and sitting at the front of the bus, as far as possible from the back of the vehicle where The Cool Ones are busy noisily reasserting their claim on their territory. Chu-Young being the noisiest of them all.
12 texts him again, and as he opens the messages, Changmin thinks absently that this is the most he has ever used his cell phone. Even Junsu noticed, but Junsu is convinced it’s a girlfriend. Bless him.
And we’ve to answer the truth
:)
The truth. That does strike a chord, but while the idea sounds harmless, Changmin’s instinctive wariness when it comes to people is urging him to be careful.
He starts typing a reply - it’s a bad idea, there’s nothing interesting to ask to begin with - when he thinks he hears his name amidst the surrounding agitation. As if to confirm his suspicions Chu-Young’s obnoxious laughter rises a second later, and Changmin purses his lips, reminding himself darkly that he does not care because whatever Chu-Young says about him will always be irrelevant.
He glances down and on his phone, 12’s smiley face is looking up at him hopefully.
Without thinking, his fingers erase his unfinished text and replace it with an ‘Ok’ that Changmin deems way too eager as soon as he sent it. So he promptly adds a reservation about those questions - nothing to do with their identity.
Sure
At the back of the bus, Chu-Young and his friends start playing music at full volume and singing along, though to him it rather sounds like they’re holding a contest of who has the lousiest voice. “Morons” Changmin mutters under his breath. But he can’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he suddenly remembers 12 serenading him with the national anthem at 4am. He wishes he had recorded it.
And his fingers apparently have a mind of their own.
▪ What are you most afraid of?
12’s answer comes at once, and Changmin thinks the guy couldn’t care less about looking eager.
Ghosts.
Couldn’t care less about looking cool either, and Changmin’s grin widens as another text comes in.
What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?
▪ Crossing the road without looking
That’s the truth. The uncool truth, but whoever 12 is, it seems in general he couldn’t care less what Changmin thinks of him, and that puts him at ease. And the next ten minutes of 12 ranting because he missed his bus stop - don’t you laugh and you’re way too distracting - make it entirely worth it.
~
Are you right-handed or left-handed?
▪ Right-handed
▪ Do you practice any sport?
Oh god no
Ofc I don’t
The most ridiculous thing you’ve ever agreed to do?
▪ Let my sister paint my nails
Cute :)
▪ No
▪ It was her birthday, she cried until I let her do it
▪ Do you have a girlfriend?
A boyfriend ;)
Do YOU have a girlfriend?
▪ No
▪ Is Jaejoong your boyfriend?
No
▪ Can you whistle?
No
Can you touch your nose with your tongue?
▪ I can’t
You just tried, didn’t you? :)
▪ That’s two questions
Yeah yeah yeah
I know you did
So just to be sure
Did you try to touch your nose with your tongue yesterday?
▪ Yes
:))))
I KNEW IT
▪ When was the last time you had ice-cream?
Uuuh last summer I guess
▪ What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?
Vanilla
Ok, what’s this ice-cream obsession about??!
It’s January! It’s freezing!!!
▪ Ice-cream is good any time
▪ ^^
~
It’s Changmin’s sister who once told him he needed to fix his awful texting habits. According to her, the blatant lack of emoticons, punctuation and other subtleties of the messaging language - such as Junsu’s compulsive ‘kekeke’ - made it sound like he was constantly angry.
She was also the one who suggested throwing in some ‘^^’ once in a while.
Changmin used not to bother, but he finds himself using that trick more and more often with 12, for some reason wanting to be careful this time around. Parsimoniously at first, having to remind himself about it and mostly adding them as an afterthought after a string of maybe-too-curt texts. Until his now signature ‘^^’ invades their conversations, the quiet evidence of the increasing importance he grants to the person that’s becoming less and less a stranger, and more and more someone close.
~
▪ Something that makes you angry?
Jaejoong
▪ But he’s your best friend
Worst decision of my life
Will you be my alibi if I end up murdering him someday?
▪ No
Was worth a try
▪ Where were you born?
Seoul
What’s the last pic you saved in your phone?
▪ Grocery list
Ouch…
▪ It’s not that bad, just helping out.
You should complain more you know
You never complain
I complain a lot!!!
▪ And it’s a good thing?
Ofc it is!
People who complain a lot live much longer :)
And before you ask, it’s scientifically proven!
I read that in a science magazine
▪ So you do read sometimes
That’s low
▪ ^^
▪ Do you like board games?
Depends if I win
I am a sore looser :)
What about you?
▪ I’m a bad loser too ^^
~
Changmin hums to himself, rearranging for the third time the stuff in his backpack ahead of tomorrow’s trip back home. The sound of his own voice distracts him from the otherwise dull silence around - a rare occurrence here, in a dorm supposed to host twelve high school boys on a field trip’s last evening. His classmates’ things are all over the place; dirty clothes piling up on top of shelves and in open suitcases, muddy shoes shoved under camp beds, sweets wrappings and empty soft drinks cans scattered on the floor.
The surrounding mess looks innocent enough - your typical teenagers’ lair - however Changmin knows better, having seen them all steal away the minute they were done with dinner. He has a rather good idea of where they all ended up again. The countryside town they stayed in the past week sees few tourists stopping by, and from what he heard, the owner of the bar down the main street gladly turns a blind eye when a hoard of high school students barges in claiming to be of age.
Changmin being known not to turn a blind eye on this sort of thing, he was not invited.
He finishes packing, carefully wrapping last the gemstones wristbands he got as presents for his sisters (rumored to bring good luck), the postcards he got for his father (supposedly hand painted) and the herbal tea leaves for his mother (for good health). Changmin has few illusions about the actual provenance of that pricy ‘local’ craftwork, but he knows that gifts are on the list of what his family is expecting field trips to be. Gifts, pictures, and fun stories.
Changmin picked nice gifts, and took lots of pictures. As for fun stories…
He stops humming, looking around the empty dorm, and his heart tightens. He isn’t sure why, since he doesn’t particularly enjoy the idea of sneaking out to break the law and get drunk with classmates he was never able to get along with in the three years of high school they spent together. The less he sees them the better, and they made it quite clear it was reciprocal. In a way, tonight is nothing but another version of what kept reenacting for the entire trip - or the entire year. There’s the last class event before high school ends, there’s a group of now close friends about to say goodbye, there’s where fun stories are supposed to happen, and as usual Changmin simply doesn’t belong.
He sits down on the edge of his bed - the only one that’s properly made - and realizes too late that this last train of thought brought a few stupid tears to his eyes. He wipes them away angrily and fishes inside his pockets until he finds his phone, glad that he saved today’s question till now.
▪ What do you do when you’re sad?
This one is quite personal for a change, but Changmin doesn’t think twice about it. Nowadays Junsu is busy with an interschool soccer competition, and all the comfort he’s able to get comes from 12’s too short and too little words. Changmin doesn’t know how to tell him that they are not quite enough. That he’d like more. That he maybe even needs it already - because that means exposing himself, but it’s been barely five months since they started talking and he’s not ready to take that chance just yet.
Minutes tick away slowly in the now dark room, fading in silence and shadows, building up the heaviness inside his chest. It’s that feeling again… the feeling of being wasting something, and it makes him feel foolish, too weak, too young, everything he’s striving not to be. But tonight he can’t find it in himself to shake it off, so Changmin stays here, staring down at his phone anxiously, waiting for the answer that means that someone cares. Until his phone vibrates, signaling a new message.
I go out with some friends.
Changmin reads it, and reads it again. He inhales deeply and curses him under his breath because 12 really sucks, and seriously now…? It’s about the last thing he wanted to read at this time. He clenches his teeth and starts typing a text around those lines and worse, when another messages comes in.
Say the 1st word that comes to your mind?
Changmin stares. He deletes everything he wrote, and again doesn’t think twice before typing his answer. It’s easy, but it’s only easy with 12. ‘The truth’, they said.
▪ Lonely
It’s easy with 12 and impossible with everyone else.
Changmin presses ‘Send’ and waits again. He waits for what feels like an awfully long time. He waits long enough to realize that probably 12 is busy with his own life and has better things to do than comfort an emo kid whose name he doesn’t even know. He is looking around for his pajamas - at this point he might as well just sleep it off, and they leave early tomorrow - when a string of texts finally comes in.
Sorry Jae called cos I’m late
Super late tbh
So he was super pissed
I think he’s gonna kill me
Pls tell the police that if I suddenly disappear ok?
That nearly brings a smile to Changmin’s lips. For a fleeting second he’s tempted to reply ‘of course that’s what friends are for’ except it sounds weird and too serious, plus he isn’t sure that 12 thinks of him as a friend.
▪ Don’t overdo it
You don’t know Jae, I’d rather be prepared
Anyway
I see something green, what is it?
And Changmin smiles.
~
▪ What was your favorite topic at school?
Break time! :)
▪ Of course…
Do you play video games?
▪ Yes
How much time to brush your teeth?
▪ 3 minutes
You’re so irritating
▪ What’s your earliest memory?
Riding a bicycle
I think I was 4? My dad says I was, he taught me :)
▪ Did you vote today?
Uuuh I was sure you’d ask this
▪ Elections are important.
Yeah, yeah, I get it
And yes I voted
You want to know who I voted for?
▪ You’re not allowed to tell anyone
For that girl, the youngest one
She was the prettiest
:)
▪ Really nothing matters to you, isn’t it?
That’s not true
▪ Then what?
You matter <3
▪ Stop it
▪ I meant important things
Exactly
Did you get the results of your uni entrance exams?
Tell me you beat that Chu-Young’s ass
▪ Of course I did
~
Changmin is barely 18 when he starts university, the second youngest in his course. He’s still awkward, he still has no friends, and Junsu still gets annoyed whenever he says that. However Changmin will admit that he now has this one person who really matters.
He’s 19 when he decides to switch courses from Korean Literature to Asian History, and while the issue of his academics choices is much debated at home, he doesn’t tell 12. Same goes for the painless break-up with his first girlfriend, for his little cousin’s birth, and for the redundancy program at his father’s workplace that looms over the family for four months until it’s confirmed his dad will keep his job and everyone can breathe out in relief. He doesn’t tell him because it’s clear by then that what’s important to 12 is mostly of no consequence to everyone else, and inversely.
But as Changmin turns 20, the tiny pieces of life that 12 keeps singling out have become meaningful to him too.
In the soft limelight of their kind banter, those unnamed parts of them have turned unexpectedly important - worthy of being noticed, of being talked and joked about, of being shared with someone else… likes and dislikes, impressions, opinions, memories, dares, games, trivial choices and hopes and fears that were not meant to be seen and told but suddenly found light, and surprisingly they shone. Myriads of mundane details he digs into daily, searching for the precious questions and answers that will keep a treasured connection alive. They make every day feel special. They make his own existence that much more substantial - just because someone cares.
As Changmin turns 20, he sort of wants to think that he may have one friend.
~
What’s your zodiac sign again?
▪ Aquarius
Ok let me see
Wow you’ve a really shitty love forecast this month
▪ Nice
▪ Do you like traveling by train or plane better?
Never been on a plane
▪ Have you found your keys?
Yup, they were at Jae’s
Do you get along better with your mother or your father?
▪ My father
▪ What’s your favorite hot drink?
… oookay.
You’re doing this on purpose right?
I mean, rn aircon is the only thing stopping me from melting
And the whole country is having panic attacks looking at forecasts for next week
I think even my dad is starting to believe that global warming is a thing
▪ Climate change
???
▪ It’s climate change, not global warming
▪ It’s different
▪ Technically ^^
…whatever
Latte, best with cinnamon
What’s yours?
Wait let me guess
Hot chocolate?
▪ With whipped cream ^^
What’s the longest time you spent without sleeping?
▪ About 30 hours I think
▪ What’s your favorite word?
Uuh I honestly have no idea
You get another question
▪ What was your nickname as a kid?
My favorite word is ‘ludicrous’
▪ …
▪ You don’t even know what that means
:))))
~
Changmin carefully marked the date, and has been counting days for nearly one week now. Okay, make it two weeks. Not that it’s such a big deal, but it actually is… kind of. For them. Well, at least, for him. Unless he made it a big deal just by overthinking it too much. Of all the peculiar aspects of his relationship with 12, the most unsettling one is the overthinking.
Changmin usually doesn’t do overthinking but again, he is slightly nervous tonight, looking at 12’s question for today - left unanswered till now - and waiting for the right timing to reply.
What country do you want to visit most?
Changmin has his answer ready, but he won’t send it until the last moment because he wants be sure he’ll get to ask the next question. It’s arguably a little childish - like that thing his sister does, taking pride in being the first to wish him his birthday every year by calling at midnight exactly. He hopes 12 won’t find it childish.
Changmin is 20 and he isn’t childish.
If anything, 12 is the childish one, and Changmin will clearly tell him that if the other starts making fun of him for actually marking the day. 12 doesn’t need to know that Changmin also regularly checks how much time it has been since they ‘met’ each other. They passed the 1000th day at the end of August but he didn’t dare pointing that out because it would have been the worst combination of nerdy and creepy. He figures he’d rather look childish.
Overthinking.
Changmin buries his face in his pillow and groans in frustration, wondering for the umpteenth time why he cares so much what 12 will think. He isn’t even sure why he wants to send this… it’s just that it seems important - more precisely, the kind of ‘important’ that’s important to 12. The kind of trivial detail that only means something to the two of them, no one else. And Changmin likes that they share something special.
He wonders if 12 thinks it’s special too.
He sometimes considered asking that very question, but he’s painfully aware that no matter how casually he phrases it, the outcome will turn out mortifying on some more or less disastrous level - not only childish but insecure, needy, clingy, cheesy, and plenty of other adjectives that definitely don’t apply to Changmin. Not to mention, 12 would have to answer the truth and there is always the possibility that it is not what Changmin expects it to be, which would made the whole fiasco ten times more humiliating, maybe even put an end to their talks altogether, and here look who’s overthinking again.
Changmin raises his head before the temptation to smother himself in his pillow becomes too strong. His gaze falls on the clock on his bedside table, which reads 23:59. He startles and rushes to grab his phone, hastily pressing ‘Send’ before it’s too late.
▪ Italy
The digits become 00:00 mere seconds later and mercifully there is no time for more overthinking.
▪ How long has it been since we started this game?
There.
Changmin remains unmoving, staring at the phone in his hands, wondering why again he tortured himself all evening over 10 little words, incidentally depriving himself of two hours of much needed sleep just a couple weeks before his end of term exams.
Three years :)
The answer shows up on his screen and he doesn’t realize at once that 12 just replied. He breathes out and unconsciously relaxes, a small smile tugging at his lips, but doesn’t get to be relieved for long.
You actually timed that one? :))))
Blood rushes to his cheeks and Changmin falls back face first into his pillow, wishing he could die right now.
~
Can we meet?
The question catches him unaware as Changmin is leaving his morning class. He freezes, causing the student behind him to bump into his back and drop his books. Several people rush to help pick them from the floor but it takes several seconds before Changmin snaps out of it and notices the commotion around him. When he finally does and turns around to offer his help however, the malevolent glare the guy is shooting at him is deterring, to say the least. Probably someone else he managed to offend one way or the other. Maybe resenting his sharp tongue. Or his good grades. Or both. Changmin isn’t lying when he tells his sisters he has quite a reputation around the university, but truth is, it’s a complicated one.
He deems it wiser to retreat after a few rushed apologies and hastily walks away from the scene, his phone held tightly in his hand.
He had not expected that.
The next three days, Changmin gets to experience yet unexplored levels of overthinkingness.
Beyond the long list of obvious reasons why he isn’t very confident about introducing himself as, well, himself - especially the first impression, he knows he’s really bad with first impressions, that’s where he ruins everything nine times out of ten - Changmin also hates the idea that, inversely, he might end up being disappointed in 12.
Of course he’d like to meet him, has imagined it before, has dreamed of how great it would be if their current relationship translated perfectly into a real life one. Except Changmin is acutely aware that the 12 he knows is different on some level from the person 12 really is. The question is how different, or rather, does Changmin want different?
He likes what they have now.
He likes 11 and 12 and the comfortable balance they’ve reached. Indeed it’s sometimes unsatisfying, frustrating, not enough, but Changmin needs it too much to jeopardize all of it without a second thought. After all, meeting each other could well mean trading a reliable, caring, unique maybe-friend for a stranger. Also sending years of maybe-friendship down the drain.
Seen from that angle there isn’t much to hesitate about and a ‘No’ is the obvious answer, but it’s not that simple. Because, Changmin realizes after a while, there’s trust too - that they have not held on so long for everything to collapse so easily. There’s hope as well - that 12 really could be the friend Changmin imagined him to be. After more than three years, there’s also curiosity, yearning, impatience, the growing urge to see for himself if what they have is indeed special. And perhaps a distant warning at the back of his mind whispering that it’s time to move onto the next stage if they don’t want to fade.
Changmin thinks and thinks and after a few days eventually gives up on trying to rationalize a situation which, frankly, is looking more and more like an ultimatum. And the fact that 12 has not sent any message since is not helping at all. Maybe he decided to end it if Changmin sends ‘No’. Maybe he already doesn’t see the point anymore.
Maybe he’s somewhere out there half-dying out of sheer anxiety, praying that he didn’t just make one fatal mistake and desperately waiting for Changmin to answer.
And as dramatic as this image might be, it’s what finally prompts him to say ‘Yes’, because of all possibilities that one still feels the closest of what he hopes 12 to be.
~
Saturday, 3pm. Myeongdong station.
Changmin arrived 20 minutes early and since he had nothing better to do, he sat down on a bench inside the station and once again went over his list of do's and don'ts. He vowed to at least not screw up the first impression this time. Easier said than done, but he figures that with adequate restrain - don’t open that big mouth of yours unless you have to - and a bit of auto censure - if it’s anything that might be categorized as offensive, insensitive, judgmental, or whatever it is about him that the rest of humanity agrees to dislike, then don’t say it - it should be safe enough.
Now, if Changmin stopped to think about it, he’d realize it’s the first time he cares so much what someone will think of him. As it is he’s too busy fighting off a mild panic attack while listing in his head all the things 12 once said that might save the day if it comes to that.
12 likes summer. He loves kids, likes driving, hates vegetables and couldn’t care less about those American series the whole world seems to be watching nowadays. 12 doesn’t even have a TV, but he likes reading newspapers and manwhas, and listening to music - all kinds of music. He once joined a drawing class. He once joined a writing course. He once joined the neighborhood’s church choir too. He doesn’t do sports but he likes watching the Olympics. 12 also likes ridiculous bets and random trivia - ‘did you know fire is blue in space?’. He hates waking up early, he knows Seoul’s subway map by heart, and he used to believe that a family of bears lived in the highway tunnel near his home.
2.55pm. Changmin breathes out and mentally gives himself a good shake. He gets up, slowly makes his way toward the station exit and climbs the stairs until he’s outside, all the while berating himself for being so nervous.
The hotel 12 told him about is easy enough to spot, however there are many people here who for some reason all seem to be waiting. Changmin stops after a few hesitant steps forward and scans the small crowd anxiously. His gaze sweeps over suitable candidates and he discards them one after the other, until he spots one particular person, this one… this one guy might very well be 12.
Around his age, playing with his phone, occasionally glancing toward the subway station. Changmin takes a minute to study him from afar, feeling increasingly nervous. His stomach twists unpleasantly. Said guy looks… well, he looks a lot of things that could very well be 12 and that Changmin prayed he would not be. Smug. Fashionable. Expensive clothes and overdone haircut. Studied pose. Casual smile, thin lips, cold eyes. Confident. That air about him that he wouldn’t be able to put into words, but that strongly reminds Changmin of the kind of bully he repeatedly ran into for the past 10 years. And all this might be okay still, if he didn’t looked so obviously bored.
Changmin frowns, failing to stop a rising wave of bad feelings ranging from disappointment to bitterness. He didn’t want to come anyway. He shouldn’t have. He turns around, his heart heavy inside his chest, and immediately stops again - there. This one, ten steps away from him. Looking down. Alone. Nervous. Familiar.
And red roses.
Before he knows it, Changmin is grinning from ear to ear - already he’s walking forward.
One step, a repressed urge to laugh, sudden relief that’s like breathing again. First impressions forgotten and erased. A second step, a third… part of him wants to run and he has to stifle the urge to call him out, and he’s ridiculously happy that he saw him first. Faster, closer, a fourth step, another, unknowingly starting to bridge a distance that their time together will only make smaller and smaller, and that the two of them will never stop looking over, at the person on the other side - at the friend, the lover, the existence mirroring their own, tied by as many lines crossed and reformed as they shifted around to create the right space for the presence they wanted shaped around their life.
Just a few steps away.
~
Yoochun caught movement out of the corner of his eye - fast, intent, straight in his direction - and he knew he was here before even seeing him. He reaches for the roses on his suitcase but it’s too late, already there is someone here; a tall shadow, quiet laughter, a whiff of air and a warm hand around his arm pulling him up. He rises from his seat and looks up and once again, as always, Yoochun gets caught in Changmin’s smile. The airport’s empty agitation slowly fades away, strangers, noises and colors and every other unimportant detail.
Yoochun knows his smiles by heart. The ones he makes when he’s embarrassed but happy, the frozen ones he keeps for pictures, the ones of excitement and pure anticipation when he looks years younger, the soft ones, the sad ones, the aggravated ones, the ones that reach his eyes and the ones that don’t. Yoochun knows all his smiles and he loves them all, but right now, this one… this smile hasn’t changed one bit. And just like years and years ago, it steals a heartbeat and effortlessly sets Yoochun’s life on a different rhythm.
Just like years and years ago, and even though he hadn’t realized it back then, Yoochun once again becomes aware that this is a smile he would do absolutely everything for.
This is a smile he created. This right now is the small happiness that may mean nothing to the universe, but that’s his entire world - it matters more to him than the shining feelings in Changmin’s eyes, the warmth of the hand coming to envelop his, or even the love bursting inside his chest.
It is what Yoochun can do.
In the small space he can reach by spreading his two arms. Within the short distance he can cover with the sound of his voice. During the limited time he was given, and that’s passing so fast.
It is what Yoochun can do and what he will keep doing for as long as Changmin will let him - the one answer he found to all questions past and future, and the worthwhile difference he could bring into this world. The reason for the smile blossoming on his own face and the secret miracle of all simple meaningful things, feelings delicately opening up to the light and warmth of an endlessly rising star.
Note: finally, the promised epilogue is here, and "Meteors" is wrapped up at last!! :)
Sooo I always have those mixed feelings when finishing a fic so maybe that's why it took me so long to get around writing it... I guess I was not too eager to say goodbye to my happy YooMin here, since I can fairly say that writing them has brought me lots of happiness as well (and headaches, lots of headaches, especially Chun you complicated idiot *hugs him all the same*).
I hope you fill enjoy this last piece to their story - which I won't call closure since this little world of them can virtually go on for a very long time if you wish to picture them that way. As for me I've written everything I had to say about it :)
I want to once again really, really thank everyone who took time to comment on this fic from the beginning. A million thanks to all of you, comments are the best reward and make the whole journey so much more meaningful to me ♥
Lastly: back in the days people used to have songlists to accompany fics, which I really enjoyed as a reader, so I figure I'd leave here the main inspirations for his story - some of them for the atmosphere, some of them for the meaning they carry.
1. Kodaline - High Hopes
2. Sigur Ros - Með Suð Í Eyrum
3. Nina Simone - Mr. Bojangles
4. Mika - I See You
5. Jean-Louis Aubert - Alter Ego
6. Gabrielle Aplin - Salvation
7. Grégory Lemarchal - Il n'y a qu'un pas
Thank you~
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?
Epilogue. Of important things (Part B).
Changmin is 17 and an awkward teen.
Junsu says all teens are by definition awkward. Changmin disagrees. Actually, he’s very aware of the fact that he belongs to the specific kind of awkward that makes your life hell for the best part of your teenage years. Not that he intends to do anything about it: he does not believe there’s any issue with the person he is, and if he does not fit your usual high school standards then too bad. Changmin is not going to pretend to be someone he isn’t for the sake of going along with people he does not exactly like and who obviously all hate him.
Changmin is 17 and he has no friends.
Junsu always complains when he says that… Junsu enjoys vehemently reminding him once every two weeks that he is here, and what is a friend if not someone who hangs out with you, knows your favorite snacks and video games tactics by heart, lets you call them the worst things without batting an eyelid, and occasionally tries to make life a little easier for you - “Changmin it’s not so complicated, you could just try being nice sometimes, you know, it really helps”. Junsu is here, true. That’s it. He’s here, just like Changmin is here, and neither of them had a say in the matter.
Changmin is 17, awkward, and he has no friends.
He’s also smart - too smart for his own good as Junsu also likes saying whenever Changmin gets into trouble, if only because too smart is better than too awkward, and at times Changmin’s wounded pride needs that sort of soothing words. And Changmin is proud indeed… proud, stubborn, straightforward and very confident in his own abilities and decisions. With a strong tendency to make each and every misfortune that occurs to him into a personal challenge, which is why today he’s still up at 4am, vengefully working on an essay due next week. He’s going to ace that one.
He’s going to crush Chu-Young and wipe the guy’s self-satisfied expression from his face - will serve him right after the nightmare that was yesterday’s sports class - and their teacher will have no choice but to congratulate him even though she does not like him too - all because he tells her when she makes mistakes.
He’s halfway through the fifth page when his cell phone suddenly rings and Changmin startles, his pen ripping on the paper. No one ever calls him - except Junsu, but Junsu sleeps like a baby, programmed to be in bed at 10pm and wake up the next day at 7am sharp. He lets the phone ring once, twice, looking at it without moving, not sure what it could be. The phone rings a third time and Changmin shakes himself out of it. He picks up, blurting out the only sensible thing he can think of.
“It’s 4am.”
The noises that come out from the other side of the line sound like someone is experiencing speech for the first time of their existence and failing to arrange syllables into intelligible words. Changmin’s apprehension that it might be one of his classmates coming up with a brand new bullying idea disappears. He doesn’t know that voice.
“…Who is it?” he asks, already 99% convinced that whoever is on the line right now is either drunk or high on something illegal, or both.
“I’m 12” the stranger answers after a very long pause, in a somewhat confident tone that does not cover up the slur in his voice. Changmin can’t help but roll his eyes. Drunk, definitely. He should hang up but something - that weird answer, the late hour, or the welcome distraction from the bitter feelings that have chased him all day - prevents him from doing so.
“Are you sure?” he goes on instead, deciding he might as well have some fun at the expense of whoever was thinking of pranking him.
“…What?”
“You sound older than that.”
There’s a silence. Then the guy starts giggling, a communicative kind of laughter that brings a smile to Changmin’s lips. He puts his pen aside on the desk, his essay temporarily forgotten.
Ten minutes later not only is his essay forgotten, but Changmin also erased from his mind all thoughts of Chu-Young, teachers, classmates, and the awkwardness of teenage years. He’s grinning widely, listening to whoever is calling him - 12 it seems, at least he’s adamant that’s his name - and occasionally feeding him quick questions and comments that invariably trigger a new uncontrolled flow of mixed absurdities and deeper thoughts on life.
Changmin learns that there is a friend called Jaejoong… that actually there are many other friends who are most certainly just as wasted, and that 12 drunk-singing is the most entertaining stuff he’s heard since his father decided to butcher Changmin’s cousin’s favorite song at her wedding last year. He also learns that 12 thinks high-school is ‘a big fat lot of bullshit’ (not the words Changmin would have used but he wholeheartedly agrees with the general spirit of it), that university is even worse (now that’s not good news), that there’s a pimple on Jaejoong’s forehead, and that 12 is sad because he never had a childhood dream and it really sucks, because only people with childhood dreams get to do something of their lives.
It’s nearly 6am when they end the call. The night sky is already clearing as Changmin goes to bed and curls up under the covers, feeling wide awake in spite of a sleepless night, with a weird warm feeling floating inside his chest - like something good happened. Like it could be important.
And for some reason, taking his phone a few hours later to text the stranger who kept him up till dawn seems just the natural thing to do.
~
I’m thinking, one question each every day
It could be fun!!
Changmin contemplates his phone, unconsciously gnawing on his lower lip as he tries to think of the possible unwelcome implications of 12’s suggestion. The morning bus is filled with the usual ruckus of his fellow students, whom he’s making a point not to be a part of - huddled by the window, schoolbag held protectively on his knees and sitting at the front of the bus, as far as possible from the back of the vehicle where The Cool Ones are busy noisily reasserting their claim on their territory. Chu-Young being the noisiest of them all.
12 texts him again, and as he opens the messages, Changmin thinks absently that this is the most he has ever used his cell phone. Even Junsu noticed, but Junsu is convinced it’s a girlfriend. Bless him.
And we’ve to answer the truth
:)
The truth. That does strike a chord, but while the idea sounds harmless, Changmin’s instinctive wariness when it comes to people is urging him to be careful.
He starts typing a reply - it’s a bad idea, there’s nothing interesting to ask to begin with - when he thinks he hears his name amidst the surrounding agitation. As if to confirm his suspicions Chu-Young’s obnoxious laughter rises a second later, and Changmin purses his lips, reminding himself darkly that he does not care because whatever Chu-Young says about him will always be irrelevant.
He glances down and on his phone, 12’s smiley face is looking up at him hopefully.
Without thinking, his fingers erase his unfinished text and replace it with an ‘Ok’ that Changmin deems way too eager as soon as he sent it. So he promptly adds a reservation about those questions - nothing to do with their identity.
Sure
At the back of the bus, Chu-Young and his friends start playing music at full volume and singing along, though to him it rather sounds like they’re holding a contest of who has the lousiest voice. “Morons” Changmin mutters under his breath. But he can’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he suddenly remembers 12 serenading him with the national anthem at 4am. He wishes he had recorded it.
And his fingers apparently have a mind of their own.
▪ What are you most afraid of?
12’s answer comes at once, and Changmin thinks the guy couldn’t care less about looking eager.
Ghosts.
Couldn’t care less about looking cool either, and Changmin’s grin widens as another text comes in.
What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?
▪ Crossing the road without looking
That’s the truth. The uncool truth, but whoever 12 is, it seems in general he couldn’t care less what Changmin thinks of him, and that puts him at ease. And the next ten minutes of 12 ranting because he missed his bus stop - don’t you laugh and you’re way too distracting - make it entirely worth it.
~
Are you right-handed or left-handed?
▪ Right-handed
▪ Do you practice any sport?
Oh god no
Ofc I don’t
The most ridiculous thing you’ve ever agreed to do?
▪ Let my sister paint my nails
Cute :)
▪ No
▪ It was her birthday, she cried until I let her do it
▪ Do you have a girlfriend?
A boyfriend ;)
Do YOU have a girlfriend?
▪ No
▪ Is Jaejoong your boyfriend?
No
▪ Can you whistle?
No
Can you touch your nose with your tongue?
▪ I can’t
You just tried, didn’t you? :)
▪ That’s two questions
Yeah yeah yeah
I know you did
So just to be sure
Did you try to touch your nose with your tongue yesterday?
▪ Yes
:))))
I KNEW IT
▪ When was the last time you had ice-cream?
Uuuh last summer I guess
▪ What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?
Vanilla
Ok, what’s this ice-cream obsession about??!
It’s January! It’s freezing!!!
▪ Ice-cream is good any time
▪ ^^
~
It’s Changmin’s sister who once told him he needed to fix his awful texting habits. According to her, the blatant lack of emoticons, punctuation and other subtleties of the messaging language - such as Junsu’s compulsive ‘kekeke’ - made it sound like he was constantly angry.
She was also the one who suggested throwing in some ‘^^’ once in a while.
Changmin used not to bother, but he finds himself using that trick more and more often with 12, for some reason wanting to be careful this time around. Parsimoniously at first, having to remind himself about it and mostly adding them as an afterthought after a string of maybe-too-curt texts. Until his now signature ‘^^’ invades their conversations, the quiet evidence of the increasing importance he grants to the person that’s becoming less and less a stranger, and more and more someone close.
~
▪ Something that makes you angry?
Jaejoong
▪ But he’s your best friend
Worst decision of my life
Will you be my alibi if I end up murdering him someday?
▪ No
Was worth a try
▪ Where were you born?
Seoul
What’s the last pic you saved in your phone?
▪ Grocery list
Ouch…
▪ It’s not that bad, just helping out.
You should complain more you know
You never complain
I complain a lot!!!
▪ And it’s a good thing?
Ofc it is!
People who complain a lot live much longer :)
And before you ask, it’s scientifically proven!
I read that in a science magazine
▪ So you do read sometimes
That’s low
▪ ^^
▪ Do you like board games?
Depends if I win
I am a sore looser :)
What about you?
▪ I’m a bad loser too ^^
~
Changmin hums to himself, rearranging for the third time the stuff in his backpack ahead of tomorrow’s trip back home. The sound of his own voice distracts him from the otherwise dull silence around - a rare occurrence here, in a dorm supposed to host twelve high school boys on a field trip’s last evening. His classmates’ things are all over the place; dirty clothes piling up on top of shelves and in open suitcases, muddy shoes shoved under camp beds, sweets wrappings and empty soft drinks cans scattered on the floor.
The surrounding mess looks innocent enough - your typical teenagers’ lair - however Changmin knows better, having seen them all steal away the minute they were done with dinner. He has a rather good idea of where they all ended up again. The countryside town they stayed in the past week sees few tourists stopping by, and from what he heard, the owner of the bar down the main street gladly turns a blind eye when a hoard of high school students barges in claiming to be of age.
Changmin being known not to turn a blind eye on this sort of thing, he was not invited.
He finishes packing, carefully wrapping last the gemstones wristbands he got as presents for his sisters (rumored to bring good luck), the postcards he got for his father (supposedly hand painted) and the herbal tea leaves for his mother (for good health). Changmin has few illusions about the actual provenance of that pricy ‘local’ craftwork, but he knows that gifts are on the list of what his family is expecting field trips to be. Gifts, pictures, and fun stories.
Changmin picked nice gifts, and took lots of pictures. As for fun stories…
He stops humming, looking around the empty dorm, and his heart tightens. He isn’t sure why, since he doesn’t particularly enjoy the idea of sneaking out to break the law and get drunk with classmates he was never able to get along with in the three years of high school they spent together. The less he sees them the better, and they made it quite clear it was reciprocal. In a way, tonight is nothing but another version of what kept reenacting for the entire trip - or the entire year. There’s the last class event before high school ends, there’s a group of now close friends about to say goodbye, there’s where fun stories are supposed to happen, and as usual Changmin simply doesn’t belong.
He sits down on the edge of his bed - the only one that’s properly made - and realizes too late that this last train of thought brought a few stupid tears to his eyes. He wipes them away angrily and fishes inside his pockets until he finds his phone, glad that he saved today’s question till now.
▪ What do you do when you’re sad?
This one is quite personal for a change, but Changmin doesn’t think twice about it. Nowadays Junsu is busy with an interschool soccer competition, and all the comfort he’s able to get comes from 12’s too short and too little words. Changmin doesn’t know how to tell him that they are not quite enough. That he’d like more. That he maybe even needs it already - because that means exposing himself, but it’s been barely five months since they started talking and he’s not ready to take that chance just yet.
Minutes tick away slowly in the now dark room, fading in silence and shadows, building up the heaviness inside his chest. It’s that feeling again… the feeling of being wasting something, and it makes him feel foolish, too weak, too young, everything he’s striving not to be. But tonight he can’t find it in himself to shake it off, so Changmin stays here, staring down at his phone anxiously, waiting for the answer that means that someone cares. Until his phone vibrates, signaling a new message.
I go out with some friends.
Changmin reads it, and reads it again. He inhales deeply and curses him under his breath because 12 really sucks, and seriously now…? It’s about the last thing he wanted to read at this time. He clenches his teeth and starts typing a text around those lines and worse, when another messages comes in.
Say the 1st word that comes to your mind?
Changmin stares. He deletes everything he wrote, and again doesn’t think twice before typing his answer. It’s easy, but it’s only easy with 12. ‘The truth’, they said.
▪ Lonely
It’s easy with 12 and impossible with everyone else.
Changmin presses ‘Send’ and waits again. He waits for what feels like an awfully long time. He waits long enough to realize that probably 12 is busy with his own life and has better things to do than comfort an emo kid whose name he doesn’t even know. He is looking around for his pajamas - at this point he might as well just sleep it off, and they leave early tomorrow - when a string of texts finally comes in.
Sorry Jae called cos I’m late
Super late tbh
So he was super pissed
I think he’s gonna kill me
Pls tell the police that if I suddenly disappear ok?
That nearly brings a smile to Changmin’s lips. For a fleeting second he’s tempted to reply ‘of course that’s what friends are for’ except it sounds weird and too serious, plus he isn’t sure that 12 thinks of him as a friend.
▪ Don’t overdo it
You don’t know Jae, I’d rather be prepared
Anyway
I see something green, what is it?
And Changmin smiles.
~
▪ What was your favorite topic at school?
Break time! :)
▪ Of course…
Do you play video games?
▪ Yes
How much time to brush your teeth?
▪ 3 minutes
You’re so irritating
▪ What’s your earliest memory?
Riding a bicycle
I think I was 4? My dad says I was, he taught me :)
▪ Did you vote today?
Uuuh I was sure you’d ask this
▪ Elections are important.
Yeah, yeah, I get it
And yes I voted
You want to know who I voted for?
▪ You’re not allowed to tell anyone
For that girl, the youngest one
She was the prettiest
:)
▪ Really nothing matters to you, isn’t it?
That’s not true
▪ Then what?
You matter <3
▪ Stop it
▪ I meant important things
Exactly
Did you get the results of your uni entrance exams?
Tell me you beat that Chu-Young’s ass
▪ Of course I did
~
Changmin is barely 18 when he starts university, the second youngest in his course. He’s still awkward, he still has no friends, and Junsu still gets annoyed whenever he says that. However Changmin will admit that he now has this one person who really matters.
He’s 19 when he decides to switch courses from Korean Literature to Asian History, and while the issue of his academics choices is much debated at home, he doesn’t tell 12. Same goes for the painless break-up with his first girlfriend, for his little cousin’s birth, and for the redundancy program at his father’s workplace that looms over the family for four months until it’s confirmed his dad will keep his job and everyone can breathe out in relief. He doesn’t tell him because it’s clear by then that what’s important to 12 is mostly of no consequence to everyone else, and inversely.
But as Changmin turns 20, the tiny pieces of life that 12 keeps singling out have become meaningful to him too.
In the soft limelight of their kind banter, those unnamed parts of them have turned unexpectedly important - worthy of being noticed, of being talked and joked about, of being shared with someone else… likes and dislikes, impressions, opinions, memories, dares, games, trivial choices and hopes and fears that were not meant to be seen and told but suddenly found light, and surprisingly they shone. Myriads of mundane details he digs into daily, searching for the precious questions and answers that will keep a treasured connection alive. They make every day feel special. They make his own existence that much more substantial - just because someone cares.
As Changmin turns 20, he sort of wants to think that he may have one friend.
~
What’s your zodiac sign again?
▪ Aquarius
Ok let me see
Wow you’ve a really shitty love forecast this month
▪ Nice
▪ Do you like traveling by train or plane better?
Never been on a plane
▪ Have you found your keys?
Yup, they were at Jae’s
Do you get along better with your mother or your father?
▪ My father
▪ What’s your favorite hot drink?
… oookay.
You’re doing this on purpose right?
I mean, rn aircon is the only thing stopping me from melting
And the whole country is having panic attacks looking at forecasts for next week
I think even my dad is starting to believe that global warming is a thing
▪ Climate change
???
▪ It’s climate change, not global warming
▪ It’s different
▪ Technically ^^
…whatever
Latte, best with cinnamon
What’s yours?
Wait let me guess
Hot chocolate?
▪ With whipped cream ^^
What’s the longest time you spent without sleeping?
▪ About 30 hours I think
▪ What’s your favorite word?
Uuh I honestly have no idea
You get another question
▪ What was your nickname as a kid?
My favorite word is ‘ludicrous’
▪ …
▪ You don’t even know what that means
:))))
~
Changmin carefully marked the date, and has been counting days for nearly one week now. Okay, make it two weeks. Not that it’s such a big deal, but it actually is… kind of. For them. Well, at least, for him. Unless he made it a big deal just by overthinking it too much. Of all the peculiar aspects of his relationship with 12, the most unsettling one is the overthinking.
Changmin usually doesn’t do overthinking but again, he is slightly nervous tonight, looking at 12’s question for today - left unanswered till now - and waiting for the right timing to reply.
What country do you want to visit most?
Changmin has his answer ready, but he won’t send it until the last moment because he wants be sure he’ll get to ask the next question. It’s arguably a little childish - like that thing his sister does, taking pride in being the first to wish him his birthday every year by calling at midnight exactly. He hopes 12 won’t find it childish.
Changmin is 20 and he isn’t childish.
If anything, 12 is the childish one, and Changmin will clearly tell him that if the other starts making fun of him for actually marking the day. 12 doesn’t need to know that Changmin also regularly checks how much time it has been since they ‘met’ each other. They passed the 1000th day at the end of August but he didn’t dare pointing that out because it would have been the worst combination of nerdy and creepy. He figures he’d rather look childish.
Overthinking.
Changmin buries his face in his pillow and groans in frustration, wondering for the umpteenth time why he cares so much what 12 will think. He isn’t even sure why he wants to send this… it’s just that it seems important - more precisely, the kind of ‘important’ that’s important to 12. The kind of trivial detail that only means something to the two of them, no one else. And Changmin likes that they share something special.
He wonders if 12 thinks it’s special too.
He sometimes considered asking that very question, but he’s painfully aware that no matter how casually he phrases it, the outcome will turn out mortifying on some more or less disastrous level - not only childish but insecure, needy, clingy, cheesy, and plenty of other adjectives that definitely don’t apply to Changmin. Not to mention, 12 would have to answer the truth and there is always the possibility that it is not what Changmin expects it to be, which would made the whole fiasco ten times more humiliating, maybe even put an end to their talks altogether, and here look who’s overthinking again.
Changmin raises his head before the temptation to smother himself in his pillow becomes too strong. His gaze falls on the clock on his bedside table, which reads 23:59. He startles and rushes to grab his phone, hastily pressing ‘Send’ before it’s too late.
▪ Italy
The digits become 00:00 mere seconds later and mercifully there is no time for more overthinking.
▪ How long has it been since we started this game?
There.
Changmin remains unmoving, staring at the phone in his hands, wondering why again he tortured himself all evening over 10 little words, incidentally depriving himself of two hours of much needed sleep just a couple weeks before his end of term exams.
Three years :)
The answer shows up on his screen and he doesn’t realize at once that 12 just replied. He breathes out and unconsciously relaxes, a small smile tugging at his lips, but doesn’t get to be relieved for long.
You actually timed that one? :))))
Blood rushes to his cheeks and Changmin falls back face first into his pillow, wishing he could die right now.
~
Can we meet?
The question catches him unaware as Changmin is leaving his morning class. He freezes, causing the student behind him to bump into his back and drop his books. Several people rush to help pick them from the floor but it takes several seconds before Changmin snaps out of it and notices the commotion around him. When he finally does and turns around to offer his help however, the malevolent glare the guy is shooting at him is deterring, to say the least. Probably someone else he managed to offend one way or the other. Maybe resenting his sharp tongue. Or his good grades. Or both. Changmin isn’t lying when he tells his sisters he has quite a reputation around the university, but truth is, it’s a complicated one.
He deems it wiser to retreat after a few rushed apologies and hastily walks away from the scene, his phone held tightly in his hand.
He had not expected that.
The next three days, Changmin gets to experience yet unexplored levels of overthinkingness.
Beyond the long list of obvious reasons why he isn’t very confident about introducing himself as, well, himself - especially the first impression, he knows he’s really bad with first impressions, that’s where he ruins everything nine times out of ten - Changmin also hates the idea that, inversely, he might end up being disappointed in 12.
Of course he’d like to meet him, has imagined it before, has dreamed of how great it would be if their current relationship translated perfectly into a real life one. Except Changmin is acutely aware that the 12 he knows is different on some level from the person 12 really is. The question is how different, or rather, does Changmin want different?
He likes what they have now.
He likes 11 and 12 and the comfortable balance they’ve reached. Indeed it’s sometimes unsatisfying, frustrating, not enough, but Changmin needs it too much to jeopardize all of it without a second thought. After all, meeting each other could well mean trading a reliable, caring, unique maybe-friend for a stranger. Also sending years of maybe-friendship down the drain.
Seen from that angle there isn’t much to hesitate about and a ‘No’ is the obvious answer, but it’s not that simple. Because, Changmin realizes after a while, there’s trust too - that they have not held on so long for everything to collapse so easily. There’s hope as well - that 12 really could be the friend Changmin imagined him to be. After more than three years, there’s also curiosity, yearning, impatience, the growing urge to see for himself if what they have is indeed special. And perhaps a distant warning at the back of his mind whispering that it’s time to move onto the next stage if they don’t want to fade.
Changmin thinks and thinks and after a few days eventually gives up on trying to rationalize a situation which, frankly, is looking more and more like an ultimatum. And the fact that 12 has not sent any message since is not helping at all. Maybe he decided to end it if Changmin sends ‘No’. Maybe he already doesn’t see the point anymore.
Maybe he’s somewhere out there half-dying out of sheer anxiety, praying that he didn’t just make one fatal mistake and desperately waiting for Changmin to answer.
And as dramatic as this image might be, it’s what finally prompts him to say ‘Yes’, because of all possibilities that one still feels the closest of what he hopes 12 to be.
~
Saturday, 3pm. Myeongdong station.
Changmin arrived 20 minutes early and since he had nothing better to do, he sat down on a bench inside the station and once again went over his list of do's and don'ts. He vowed to at least not screw up the first impression this time. Easier said than done, but he figures that with adequate restrain - don’t open that big mouth of yours unless you have to - and a bit of auto censure - if it’s anything that might be categorized as offensive, insensitive, judgmental, or whatever it is about him that the rest of humanity agrees to dislike, then don’t say it - it should be safe enough.
Now, if Changmin stopped to think about it, he’d realize it’s the first time he cares so much what someone will think of him. As it is he’s too busy fighting off a mild panic attack while listing in his head all the things 12 once said that might save the day if it comes to that.
12 likes summer. He loves kids, likes driving, hates vegetables and couldn’t care less about those American series the whole world seems to be watching nowadays. 12 doesn’t even have a TV, but he likes reading newspapers and manwhas, and listening to music - all kinds of music. He once joined a drawing class. He once joined a writing course. He once joined the neighborhood’s church choir too. He doesn’t do sports but he likes watching the Olympics. 12 also likes ridiculous bets and random trivia - ‘did you know fire is blue in space?’. He hates waking up early, he knows Seoul’s subway map by heart, and he used to believe that a family of bears lived in the highway tunnel near his home.
2.55pm. Changmin breathes out and mentally gives himself a good shake. He gets up, slowly makes his way toward the station exit and climbs the stairs until he’s outside, all the while berating himself for being so nervous.
The hotel 12 told him about is easy enough to spot, however there are many people here who for some reason all seem to be waiting. Changmin stops after a few hesitant steps forward and scans the small crowd anxiously. His gaze sweeps over suitable candidates and he discards them one after the other, until he spots one particular person, this one… this one guy might very well be 12.
Around his age, playing with his phone, occasionally glancing toward the subway station. Changmin takes a minute to study him from afar, feeling increasingly nervous. His stomach twists unpleasantly. Said guy looks… well, he looks a lot of things that could very well be 12 and that Changmin prayed he would not be. Smug. Fashionable. Expensive clothes and overdone haircut. Studied pose. Casual smile, thin lips, cold eyes. Confident. That air about him that he wouldn’t be able to put into words, but that strongly reminds Changmin of the kind of bully he repeatedly ran into for the past 10 years. And all this might be okay still, if he didn’t looked so obviously bored.
Changmin frowns, failing to stop a rising wave of bad feelings ranging from disappointment to bitterness. He didn’t want to come anyway. He shouldn’t have. He turns around, his heart heavy inside his chest, and immediately stops again - there. This one, ten steps away from him. Looking down. Alone. Nervous. Familiar.
And red roses.
Before he knows it, Changmin is grinning from ear to ear - already he’s walking forward.
One step, a repressed urge to laugh, sudden relief that’s like breathing again. First impressions forgotten and erased. A second step, a third… part of him wants to run and he has to stifle the urge to call him out, and he’s ridiculously happy that he saw him first. Faster, closer, a fourth step, another, unknowingly starting to bridge a distance that their time together will only make smaller and smaller, and that the two of them will never stop looking over, at the person on the other side - at the friend, the lover, the existence mirroring their own, tied by as many lines crossed and reformed as they shifted around to create the right space for the presence they wanted shaped around their life.
Just a few steps away.
~
Yoochun caught movement out of the corner of his eye - fast, intent, straight in his direction - and he knew he was here before even seeing him. He reaches for the roses on his suitcase but it’s too late, already there is someone here; a tall shadow, quiet laughter, a whiff of air and a warm hand around his arm pulling him up. He rises from his seat and looks up and once again, as always, Yoochun gets caught in Changmin’s smile. The airport’s empty agitation slowly fades away, strangers, noises and colors and every other unimportant detail.
Yoochun knows his smiles by heart. The ones he makes when he’s embarrassed but happy, the frozen ones he keeps for pictures, the ones of excitement and pure anticipation when he looks years younger, the soft ones, the sad ones, the aggravated ones, the ones that reach his eyes and the ones that don’t. Yoochun knows all his smiles and he loves them all, but right now, this one… this smile hasn’t changed one bit. And just like years and years ago, it steals a heartbeat and effortlessly sets Yoochun’s life on a different rhythm.
Just like years and years ago, and even though he hadn’t realized it back then, Yoochun once again becomes aware that this is a smile he would do absolutely everything for.
This is a smile he created. This right now is the small happiness that may mean nothing to the universe, but that’s his entire world - it matters more to him than the shining feelings in Changmin’s eyes, the warmth of the hand coming to envelop his, or even the love bursting inside his chest.
It is what Yoochun can do.
In the small space he can reach by spreading his two arms. Within the short distance he can cover with the sound of his voice. During the limited time he was given, and that’s passing so fast.
It is what Yoochun can do and what he will keep doing for as long as Changmin will let him - the one answer he found to all questions past and future, and the worthwhile difference he could bring into this world. The reason for the smile blossoming on his own face and the secret miracle of all simple meaningful things, feelings delicately opening up to the light and warmth of an endlessly rising star.
Note: finally, the promised epilogue is here, and "Meteors" is wrapped up at last!! :)
Sooo I always have those mixed feelings when finishing a fic so maybe that's why it took me so long to get around writing it... I guess I was not too eager to say goodbye to my happy YooMin here, since I can fairly say that writing them has brought me lots of happiness as well (and headaches, lots of headaches, especially Chun you complicated idiot *hugs him all the same*).
I hope you fill enjoy this last piece to their story - which I won't call closure since this little world of them can virtually go on for a very long time if you wish to picture them that way. As for me I've written everything I had to say about it :)
I want to once again really, really thank everyone who took time to comment on this fic from the beginning. A million thanks to all of you, comments are the best reward and make the whole journey so much more meaningful to me ♥
Lastly: back in the days people used to have songlists to accompany fics, which I really enjoyed as a reader, so I figure I'd leave here the main inspirations for his story - some of them for the atmosphere, some of them for the meaning they carry.
1. Kodaline - High Hopes
2. Sigur Ros - Með Suð Í Eyrum
3. Nina Simone - Mr. Bojangles
4. Mika - I See You
5. Jean-Louis Aubert - Alter Ego
6. Gabrielle Aplin - Salvation
7. Grégory Lemarchal - Il n'y a qu'un pas
Thank you~