[fic] untitled
T: Untitled
P: Yoomin (because goddammit the world needs more), broken Yoosu
R: PG
A/N: I doubt I'll finish this.
For once in his life, Park Yoochun had woken up early on his own volition. The night before had started calm enough, but been full of angry hushed voices, and ended with a door slamming in his face.
The arguments had been more and more frequent, he realized as he lied in the otherwise empty bed, hand trailing down cold sheets that normally were kept warm by someone other than him.
Sleep. Sleep never helped, or at least it only made him feel worse after waking up. He had never stayed away for this long in the past and Yoochun was slowly accepting the fact that he probably wouldn't come back.
Bittersweet memories clouded his mind as he shifted his weight to the middle of the bed. "Junsu," he whispered, in some desperate attempt to call him back. The name hung at the back of his throat as he eventually pushed himself off the pillows that still carried the heavy scent of him.
Coffee. Coffee occasionally helped, or at least it gave him the caffeine high to do something other than drink wine and stay in his pajamas all day. But his coffee pot never brewed it strong enough (and, to be honest, he wasn't ever exactly sure how it worked anyway).
Mulling over the instruction manual was easy enough. Carefully crafted tiny text attempting to explain that it wasn't the machine, in fact, it was the man reading-
"Hyung." Snapping back to reality, Yoochun looked to the direction of the voice.
"Changminah, you look-"
Exhausted. (As if you haven't slept in a while. How long did he keep you awake?)
Angry. (As if someone kept you up, when all you wanted was sleep. Did he tell you it was his fault? It wasn't. It was mine.)
So, both. (Yeah, both. I'm sorry.)
Yoochun stood up from the table, but he wasn't fast enough and the younger boy was already there, arms wrapped around him tightly. "Hey..." There weren't many who had keys to his place. Three, to be specific. One was his. "How'd you get in?" One was his brother's.
"You gave me a key." A lie, he must have stolen it from- "Remember?"
"Oh." It should have been his anyway. From the beginning. "How are-"
Ring ring. Ring ring.
Changmin smiled and finally broke the embrace, answering the unfinished question before picking up the phone. "Better now. Hi Jaejoong-hyung." Silence. "Yoochun-hyung can't come to the phone right now. No, he isn't crying. Yes, he's fine. Yes, I'll make him coffee." He loosely wrapped his free arm around the older man, "Yes, I am hugging him for you right now." Laughing, he put the phone against Yoochun's ear, his hand lingering as Yoochun took the phone in his own.
"Hey."
"Don't let him make you sad."
"I know."
"Call me if he does anything suspicious."
A smile and Changmin poked at Yoochun's cheeks before disappearing into the kitchen. "Okay."
"...if you need me. He shouldn't have-"
"I have the right person here now."
Laughter. "Good."
Changmin. Changmin always helped, always.
P: Yoomin (because goddammit the world needs more), broken Yoosu
R: PG
A/N: I doubt I'll finish this.
For once in his life, Park Yoochun had woken up early on his own volition. The night before had started calm enough, but been full of angry hushed voices, and ended with a door slamming in his face.
The arguments had been more and more frequent, he realized as he lied in the otherwise empty bed, hand trailing down cold sheets that normally were kept warm by someone other than him.
Sleep. Sleep never helped, or at least it only made him feel worse after waking up. He had never stayed away for this long in the past and Yoochun was slowly accepting the fact that he probably wouldn't come back.
Bittersweet memories clouded his mind as he shifted his weight to the middle of the bed. "Junsu," he whispered, in some desperate attempt to call him back. The name hung at the back of his throat as he eventually pushed himself off the pillows that still carried the heavy scent of him.
Coffee. Coffee occasionally helped, or at least it gave him the caffeine high to do something other than drink wine and stay in his pajamas all day. But his coffee pot never brewed it strong enough (and, to be honest, he wasn't ever exactly sure how it worked anyway).
Mulling over the instruction manual was easy enough. Carefully crafted tiny text attempting to explain that it wasn't the machine, in fact, it was the man reading-
"Hyung." Snapping back to reality, Yoochun looked to the direction of the voice.
"Changminah, you look-"
Exhausted. (As if you haven't slept in a while. How long did he keep you awake?)
Angry. (As if someone kept you up, when all you wanted was sleep. Did he tell you it was his fault? It wasn't. It was mine.)
So, both. (Yeah, both. I'm sorry.)
Yoochun stood up from the table, but he wasn't fast enough and the younger boy was already there, arms wrapped around him tightly. "Hey..." There weren't many who had keys to his place. Three, to be specific. One was his. "How'd you get in?" One was his brother's.
"You gave me a key." A lie, he must have stolen it from- "Remember?"
"Oh." It should have been his anyway. From the beginning. "How are-"
Ring ring. Ring ring.
Changmin smiled and finally broke the embrace, answering the unfinished question before picking up the phone. "Better now. Hi Jaejoong-hyung." Silence. "Yoochun-hyung can't come to the phone right now. No, he isn't crying. Yes, he's fine. Yes, I'll make him coffee." He loosely wrapped his free arm around the older man, "Yes, I am hugging him for you right now." Laughing, he put the phone against Yoochun's ear, his hand lingering as Yoochun took the phone in his own.
"Hey."
"Don't let him make you sad."
"I know."
"Call me if he does anything suspicious."
A smile and Changmin poked at Yoochun's cheeks before disappearing into the kitchen. "Okay."
"...if you need me. He shouldn't have-"
"I have the right person here now."
Laughter. "Good."
Changmin. Changmin always helped, always.