#08. and we could be;
: and we could be
: yoochun/junsu | pg
: it’s the only love story junsu never tells
: for thelovelight just because i promised yoosu ♥ and i love her
he wants to be where the music is
Junsu falls in love.
He’s in a club and just a little tipsy, so he trips, and he supposes that is the first step of love. To be in love you have to fall first, and he does, right into her chest with his hands clutching at tiny hips and heart thrumming somewhere in his groin instead of inside his ribcage.
She laughs, red lips parted and eyes bright, and pushes him out of her cleavage and onto the dance floor. “It’s not nice to stare at a lady’s chest.”
“But I was admiring your heart,” he states cheekily, pulling her along with him and he hears Jaejoong catcalling from their booth and he doesn’t know why he agreed to go out with Changmin and Jaejoong in the first place.
Oh, yea, Yoochun wasn’t available and Jaejoong demanded more company.
“Xiah Junsu,” she whispers in his ear, beautiful beneath his fingertips and warm against his body. He stiffens, his movements freezing, and now he thinks this might have been a bad idea. She smiles into the curve of his neck, hands rubbing at his tense shoulders. “It’s okay. Just dance.”
She says she practices ballet, wants to travel the world, and doesn’t like boy bands like the one he’s in (it’s cute when you’re ten and if you’re a little girl.) She says she’s into Big Bang because they know how to dance and maybe make a woman feel good, it’s where the real men are.
“I’ll show you how a real man dances,” he says determinedly, shifts his hips, and then it’s just them beneath flashing lights.
this is the love story he never tells
“I met someone,” he says to Yoochun that night, lying together and tangling fingers into heartstrings, tugging and pulling. “I met a girl.”
Yoochun shifts in the others bed, resting his head on his arm and lacing fingers with Junsu. “Really? What was she like?”
“Utterly annoying, just like you,” Junsu bites out and earns a snort from his best friend. “But she was also amazing to talk to and beautiful and just… I don’t know, she was real.”
“Sounds like she’s perfect for you.”
Junsu rolls onto his side, ready to open his mouth but he finds Yoochun’s pretty eyes covered by thick lashes and he doesn’t have the heart to make them flutter open again. The younger shuffles closer, tugging the blankets around their tired bodies and lets his forehead rest against the others. He traces the arch of Yoochun’s brows, ghosts down the bridge of his nose, and outlines the others full lips.
Junsu smiles. “Yea. Perfect for me.”
Junsu sees her again at the club.
Except this time he’s not drunk and tripping over himself, he’s alone with no one to cheer him on, and he thinks that she looks even more real to him when his vision isn’t hazy from alcohol.
He grinds his body against hers, casting off sparks, and white spots dance across his vision every time she dips low. They press closer and it feels like all eyes are on them, and they are (but when are they not?) She is breathing warm words into his neck, touching fire into his arms, and sending his heart into overdrive. It’s magic, it’s a drug, it’s contagious.
“Seohyun,” she murmurs into his ear, lips brushing his sensitive skin, and when he looks at her questioningly, she repeats herself, “Hong Seohyun.”
The music changes and the beat shifts, and without even realizing it their bodies slow down to the gentle lull, and the only thumping Junsu can feel in his ears is that of his own heartbeat now fasterfasterfaster. Seohyun winds her arms around him, slender fingers twirling in his hair, and she has her ear pressed against his chest, just listening.
It feels better like this, he thinks with a soft smile, breathing her in. “Junsu,” he whispers into her black locks, “Only Junsu.”
this is how he falls into place, tumbles into love, and he’s sure this is everything he’s ever wanted
“I think I’m in love with her, Yoochun.”
The other pauses in his writing, looks up, and his eyes are soft (tired and rimmed with something deeper than them both, than them all), “Why are you telling me, Junsu?”
“Because you’re my best friend.”
Yoochun shakes his head, goes back to writing down pieces of his soul. “But I’m not the one you’re in love with.”
Junsu makes sure to shut the door behind him when he goes.
He holds her hand on the first date, walks her through city streets, and twirls her tiny frame underneath lamplights. Everything with her is like dancing, and he cannot get enough of it.
“What would you say about me being in love with you?” he asks at her doorstep, staring up at her from the ground as she connects their fingers between them, building bridges out of arms and hands and hearts and love.
She blinks at him from curled lashes, full lips stretching into a coy smile, and there are specks of gold sparkling in her eyes. “I’ll have to hear the confession before I react to it.”
Junsu rolls his eyes. “Difficult woman.”
“It’s one of the many reasons why you love me.”
“…yea, it is.”
He leans in just as she is doing the same. Their lips meet and it’s exactly how he’d imagined it would be - only better. When she pulls away, she lingers at the door, but his voice is stuck in his chest and he thinks she might have taken his breath away.
he might say i love you here, but he doesn’t
Junsu walks by Yoochun’s work room one day. The door is shut, the sounds are soft, and the apartment feels empty like this. He raises his hand to the knob, cool metal between burning skin, and then the hand falls away (along with his heart.) He sits outside instead, swaying slightly and hugging his knees to his chest. It stops shortly after but it’s still playing in his head (in his heart) somewhere.
He wonders why the music is so sad, but he cannot find it in himself to ask.
Seohyun has pretty black hair that falls in waves against his palms, twists in perfect curls around his fingers, and shines purple beneath flickering lights. Her lips are full and they slip against his easily, perfect row of teeth making the most perfect smile he has ever seen, dimples revealed every time she looks at him and can’t help but to smile. Her eyes are big, they’re a rich brown color, and they seem to sparkle whenever she dances.
( - Yoochun’s hair is black now, but he remembers when it curled around his fingers, when it turned to the prettiest shade of purple underneath spotlights, when it fell in waves against his hands. Yoochun’s hair used to be long, used to be short, used to be all and any hairstyle (good or bad) but Junsu still found him attractive - not that he’d ever let the elder know; he is a man, after all, Junsu still had his pride above all else. Yoochun’s smile makes his heart beat double time, and his dimples are adorable, and sometimes he looks like a child.
But what Junsu likes best, is that during the early morning sunrise, Yoochun’s eyes appear the softest of blues - )
Junsu shudders against Seohyun’s body, flattens his palms on her cheeks and presses his lips desperately onto hers. Anything to make him think of her, and not him, because she was is the one he loves - not yoochunyoochunyoochun.
kissing only feels right when you’re with the person meant for you
Yoochun finishes his song on Wednesday. He speaks to Junsu on Thursday. By Friday they’re friends again and Junsu feels the twisting in his gut fade away.
“Did you tell her?” Yoochun asks, speaking in hushed tones and heavy words, smoothing out wrinkles that were never there. “Did you tell her that you were in love with her?”
Junsu watches the way Yoochun’s hands glide over the blankets, always careful always soft always as if he were creating music with every move he makes. “…no. I couldn’t do it.”
“Why not?”
He means to say, “I don’t think it’s the right time,” but, with the way Yoochun’s eyes shine liquid in the lamplight, he instead answers, “I don’t think she’s the right one.”
“What the hell do you mean? Of course she’s the one and she’s not going to wait for your sorry ass to get around to telling her! How dense can you be, Junsu? Open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you -”
It’s all Junsu really needs to hear to decide what he really wants.
He finds that kissing Yoochun is everything like kissing Seohyun, but ten times better and there’s this hint of something that underlies this moment that might scare Junsu on normal occasions, but he can’t even begin to think of anything else other than Yoochun - just yoochunyoochunyoochun.
It tastes even sweeter when Yoochun’s hands clench into the fabric of his shirt, right above his rapidly racing heart, and then they’re kissing wet, rough, messy, and it feels right (but this is wrong, right, wrong, rightrightright.)
But then he realizes what he has done when they pull away and he’s so much more confused than he was before (seohyun, yoochun, seohyunseohyunseohyun… yoochun.) Yoochun wants to speak, Junsu can see it in his eyes, but he doesn’t want to hear anything now.
Mainly, he doesn’t want Yoochun to see him cry.
Bolero plays in his car when she’s telling him about her dancing, and even the way she talks is like twisting and turning and leaping through the air - he can feel it in everything she does. But she stops speaking and instead listens to the song, her eyes softening when their voices grow louder through the speakers, and she sways along to the sounds of them harmonizing and becoming one.
“I lied,” she says, gaze focusing on the city lights stretched out beneath them, counts the skyscrapers before continuing, “When I said that I didn’t like your band, I was lying.”
Junsu thrums his fingers against the steering wheel, looking her over with his eyes dark and questioning, and he is trying not to concentrate on the way Yoochun’s voice sounds desperate and breaking in this song (and last night and all the nights before.) “Why’d you lie about it?”
“Because… because I loved you,” she breathes, tears in her eyes, “I loved you with Yoochun. And then I loved you with me more. I’m allowed to be selfish, right? But then the more I thought about it, I knew.”
“Knew what?” he asks, heart and eyes and voice imploring, wanting (needing) to know.
“I knew you’d never love me like you love him.”
The car feels a lot smaller like this and she seems so much more breakable in this pale moonlight. She’s crying now and he’s never been that great with comforting others (that weren’t Yoochun - and, damn it, why is he always on his mind?) He exhales shakily, ready to hear whatever else she had left to say and get this over with.
“Don’t let me be your regret.”
Junsu looks away.
he couldn’t regret this; not when it feels so right
He sits alone in the dark, a light show provided by his cell phone casting shadows in dark corners, and he’s staring at cracks in the ceilings - thinking of a million and two ways to take Yoochun off his mind but no attempt has been successful.
The light flickers on and his vision is momentarily encased in a bright white before it fades into Yoochun looking small in the doorway with music sheets tucked against his chest like a security blanket. (Suddenly forgetting becomes a lot harder, and trying to ignore the tug in his chest is completely impossible.)
“I thought you were on a date,” he states slowly, voice a pitch lower than normal and eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep.
It’s not awkward, just tense, and Junsu swallows the lump in his throat before meeting the others gaze. “I was, but I came home early.”
A heartbeat. Two. Three. “Did you tell her?”
“No, because,” Junsu’s eyes shift down to his feet, follow the curve of his shadow and then settle on the area just above the others left shoulder, “I realized she wasn’t the one for me.”
Yoochun is exasperated, eyes narrowing and mouth setting into a grim line. “What the fuck? I thought you said she was perfect for you. And I believed you! What made you change your mind?”
Junsu takes a step closer. Two. Three. He stares a second too long at Yoochun’s lips but glances longer into the others eyes.
“She wasn’t you.”
The music sheets fall from the elder’s grasp, flitter to the floor in a messy pile, and Junsu knows that they’ll never be able to put them back in order again. But it’s okay because Yoochun doesn’t have a reason for any more sad love songs.
“I’m in love with you,” he says as calmly, as confidently, as loudly as he can, but it’s nothing more than a ghost of a touch against Yoochun’s lips.
Yoochun smiles (beautifully, wholly - not broken) and the songs in their heads and hearts become one. “I’m in love with you too.”
Junsu’s heart stops (one, two, three; starts again.)
he finds his music here
: yoochun/junsu | pg
: it’s the only love story junsu never tells
: for thelovelight just because i promised yoosu ♥ and i love her
he wants to be where the music is
Junsu falls in love.
He’s in a club and just a little tipsy, so he trips, and he supposes that is the first step of love. To be in love you have to fall first, and he does, right into her chest with his hands clutching at tiny hips and heart thrumming somewhere in his groin instead of inside his ribcage.
She laughs, red lips parted and eyes bright, and pushes him out of her cleavage and onto the dance floor. “It’s not nice to stare at a lady’s chest.”
“But I was admiring your heart,” he states cheekily, pulling her along with him and he hears Jaejoong catcalling from their booth and he doesn’t know why he agreed to go out with Changmin and Jaejoong in the first place.
Oh, yea, Yoochun wasn’t available and Jaejoong demanded more company.
“Xiah Junsu,” she whispers in his ear, beautiful beneath his fingertips and warm against his body. He stiffens, his movements freezing, and now he thinks this might have been a bad idea. She smiles into the curve of his neck, hands rubbing at his tense shoulders. “It’s okay. Just dance.”
She says she practices ballet, wants to travel the world, and doesn’t like boy bands like the one he’s in (it’s cute when you’re ten and if you’re a little girl.) She says she’s into Big Bang because they know how to dance and maybe make a woman feel good, it’s where the real men are.
“I’ll show you how a real man dances,” he says determinedly, shifts his hips, and then it’s just them beneath flashing lights.
this is the love story he never tells
“I met someone,” he says to Yoochun that night, lying together and tangling fingers into heartstrings, tugging and pulling. “I met a girl.”
Yoochun shifts in the others bed, resting his head on his arm and lacing fingers with Junsu. “Really? What was she like?”
“Utterly annoying, just like you,” Junsu bites out and earns a snort from his best friend. “But she was also amazing to talk to and beautiful and just… I don’t know, she was real.”
“Sounds like she’s perfect for you.”
Junsu rolls onto his side, ready to open his mouth but he finds Yoochun’s pretty eyes covered by thick lashes and he doesn’t have the heart to make them flutter open again. The younger shuffles closer, tugging the blankets around their tired bodies and lets his forehead rest against the others. He traces the arch of Yoochun’s brows, ghosts down the bridge of his nose, and outlines the others full lips.
Junsu smiles. “Yea. Perfect for me.”
Junsu sees her again at the club.
Except this time he’s not drunk and tripping over himself, he’s alone with no one to cheer him on, and he thinks that she looks even more real to him when his vision isn’t hazy from alcohol.
He grinds his body against hers, casting off sparks, and white spots dance across his vision every time she dips low. They press closer and it feels like all eyes are on them, and they are (but when are they not?) She is breathing warm words into his neck, touching fire into his arms, and sending his heart into overdrive. It’s magic, it’s a drug, it’s contagious.
“Seohyun,” she murmurs into his ear, lips brushing his sensitive skin, and when he looks at her questioningly, she repeats herself, “Hong Seohyun.”
The music changes and the beat shifts, and without even realizing it their bodies slow down to the gentle lull, and the only thumping Junsu can feel in his ears is that of his own heartbeat now fasterfasterfaster. Seohyun winds her arms around him, slender fingers twirling in his hair, and she has her ear pressed against his chest, just listening.
It feels better like this, he thinks with a soft smile, breathing her in. “Junsu,” he whispers into her black locks, “Only Junsu.”
this is how he falls into place, tumbles into love, and he’s sure this is everything he’s ever wanted
“I think I’m in love with her, Yoochun.”
The other pauses in his writing, looks up, and his eyes are soft (tired and rimmed with something deeper than them both, than them all), “Why are you telling me, Junsu?”
“Because you’re my best friend.”
Yoochun shakes his head, goes back to writing down pieces of his soul. “But I’m not the one you’re in love with.”
Junsu makes sure to shut the door behind him when he goes.
He holds her hand on the first date, walks her through city streets, and twirls her tiny frame underneath lamplights. Everything with her is like dancing, and he cannot get enough of it.
“What would you say about me being in love with you?” he asks at her doorstep, staring up at her from the ground as she connects their fingers between them, building bridges out of arms and hands and hearts and love.
She blinks at him from curled lashes, full lips stretching into a coy smile, and there are specks of gold sparkling in her eyes. “I’ll have to hear the confession before I react to it.”
Junsu rolls his eyes. “Difficult woman.”
“It’s one of the many reasons why you love me.”
“…yea, it is.”
He leans in just as she is doing the same. Their lips meet and it’s exactly how he’d imagined it would be - only better. When she pulls away, she lingers at the door, but his voice is stuck in his chest and he thinks she might have taken his breath away.
he might say i love you here, but he doesn’t
Junsu walks by Yoochun’s work room one day. The door is shut, the sounds are soft, and the apartment feels empty like this. He raises his hand to the knob, cool metal between burning skin, and then the hand falls away (along with his heart.) He sits outside instead, swaying slightly and hugging his knees to his chest. It stops shortly after but it’s still playing in his head (in his heart) somewhere.
He wonders why the music is so sad, but he cannot find it in himself to ask.
Seohyun has pretty black hair that falls in waves against his palms, twists in perfect curls around his fingers, and shines purple beneath flickering lights. Her lips are full and they slip against his easily, perfect row of teeth making the most perfect smile he has ever seen, dimples revealed every time she looks at him and can’t help but to smile. Her eyes are big, they’re a rich brown color, and they seem to sparkle whenever she dances.
( - Yoochun’s hair is black now, but he remembers when it curled around his fingers, when it turned to the prettiest shade of purple underneath spotlights, when it fell in waves against his hands. Yoochun’s hair used to be long, used to be short, used to be all and any hairstyle (good or bad) but Junsu still found him attractive - not that he’d ever let the elder know; he is a man, after all, Junsu still had his pride above all else. Yoochun’s smile makes his heart beat double time, and his dimples are adorable, and sometimes he looks like a child.
But what Junsu likes best, is that during the early morning sunrise, Yoochun’s eyes appear the softest of blues - )
Junsu shudders against Seohyun’s body, flattens his palms on her cheeks and presses his lips desperately onto hers. Anything to make him think of her, and not him, because she was is the one he loves - not yoochunyoochunyoochun.
kissing only feels right when you’re with the person meant for you
Yoochun finishes his song on Wednesday. He speaks to Junsu on Thursday. By Friday they’re friends again and Junsu feels the twisting in his gut fade away.
“Did you tell her?” Yoochun asks, speaking in hushed tones and heavy words, smoothing out wrinkles that were never there. “Did you tell her that you were in love with her?”
Junsu watches the way Yoochun’s hands glide over the blankets, always careful always soft always as if he were creating music with every move he makes. “…no. I couldn’t do it.”
“Why not?”
He means to say, “I don’t think it’s the right time,” but, with the way Yoochun’s eyes shine liquid in the lamplight, he instead answers, “I don’t think she’s the right one.”
“What the hell do you mean? Of course she’s the one and she’s not going to wait for your sorry ass to get around to telling her! How dense can you be, Junsu? Open your eyes and see what’s right in front of you -”
It’s all Junsu really needs to hear to decide what he really wants.
He finds that kissing Yoochun is everything like kissing Seohyun, but ten times better and there’s this hint of something that underlies this moment that might scare Junsu on normal occasions, but he can’t even begin to think of anything else other than Yoochun - just yoochunyoochunyoochun.
It tastes even sweeter when Yoochun’s hands clench into the fabric of his shirt, right above his rapidly racing heart, and then they’re kissing wet, rough, messy, and it feels right (but this is wrong, right, wrong, rightrightright.)
But then he realizes what he has done when they pull away and he’s so much more confused than he was before (seohyun, yoochun, seohyunseohyunseohyun… yoochun.) Yoochun wants to speak, Junsu can see it in his eyes, but he doesn’t want to hear anything now.
Mainly, he doesn’t want Yoochun to see him cry.
Bolero plays in his car when she’s telling him about her dancing, and even the way she talks is like twisting and turning and leaping through the air - he can feel it in everything she does. But she stops speaking and instead listens to the song, her eyes softening when their voices grow louder through the speakers, and she sways along to the sounds of them harmonizing and becoming one.
“I lied,” she says, gaze focusing on the city lights stretched out beneath them, counts the skyscrapers before continuing, “When I said that I didn’t like your band, I was lying.”
Junsu thrums his fingers against the steering wheel, looking her over with his eyes dark and questioning, and he is trying not to concentrate on the way Yoochun’s voice sounds desperate and breaking in this song (and last night and all the nights before.) “Why’d you lie about it?”
“Because… because I loved you,” she breathes, tears in her eyes, “I loved you with Yoochun. And then I loved you with me more. I’m allowed to be selfish, right? But then the more I thought about it, I knew.”
“Knew what?” he asks, heart and eyes and voice imploring, wanting (needing) to know.
“I knew you’d never love me like you love him.”
The car feels a lot smaller like this and she seems so much more breakable in this pale moonlight. She’s crying now and he’s never been that great with comforting others (that weren’t Yoochun - and, damn it, why is he always on his mind?) He exhales shakily, ready to hear whatever else she had left to say and get this over with.
“Don’t let me be your regret.”
Junsu looks away.
he couldn’t regret this; not when it feels so right
He sits alone in the dark, a light show provided by his cell phone casting shadows in dark corners, and he’s staring at cracks in the ceilings - thinking of a million and two ways to take Yoochun off his mind but no attempt has been successful.
The light flickers on and his vision is momentarily encased in a bright white before it fades into Yoochun looking small in the doorway with music sheets tucked against his chest like a security blanket. (Suddenly forgetting becomes a lot harder, and trying to ignore the tug in his chest is completely impossible.)
“I thought you were on a date,” he states slowly, voice a pitch lower than normal and eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep.
It’s not awkward, just tense, and Junsu swallows the lump in his throat before meeting the others gaze. “I was, but I came home early.”
A heartbeat. Two. Three. “Did you tell her?”
“No, because,” Junsu’s eyes shift down to his feet, follow the curve of his shadow and then settle on the area just above the others left shoulder, “I realized she wasn’t the one for me.”
Yoochun is exasperated, eyes narrowing and mouth setting into a grim line. “What the fuck? I thought you said she was perfect for you. And I believed you! What made you change your mind?”
Junsu takes a step closer. Two. Three. He stares a second too long at Yoochun’s lips but glances longer into the others eyes.
“She wasn’t you.”
The music sheets fall from the elder’s grasp, flitter to the floor in a messy pile, and Junsu knows that they’ll never be able to put them back in order again. But it’s okay because Yoochun doesn’t have a reason for any more sad love songs.
“I’m in love with you,” he says as calmly, as confidently, as loudly as he can, but it’s nothing more than a ghost of a touch against Yoochun’s lips.
Yoochun smiles (beautifully, wholly - not broken) and the songs in their heads and hearts become one. “I’m in love with you too.”
Junsu’s heart stops (one, two, three; starts again.)
he finds his music here