We Could Have Been
homin; pg-13
romance
11,403 words - the grand and gigantic finale!
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04. a series of unrelated one-shots for the holidays. all homin, all love ♥
Yunho stepped blindly into the bedroom, towel thrown over his head as he rubbed it over damp hair. He tripped over a pair of jeans and stumbled, only to bump his hip on the dresser. He cursed softly.
“Stop making a mess of yourself and come to bed,” Changmin said, lifting his head from the pillow just long enough to say his peace before burying himself back down.
Yunho laughed lightly and tossed his towel at his sleepy boyfriend, who in turn kicked the towel off the bed. He turned over, back facing Yunho, but the older man quickly threw on a pair pajama bottoms and climbed in behind him.
Arms wrapped around Changmin’s waist, eyelashes mingling with the short wisps of hair at the back of his neck, Yunho whispered, “Go to sleep. You need it.”
“Mm,” Changmin murmured, and Yunho could tell he was almost asleep already. “L’vyou.”
Yunho closed his eyes on a smile. “You too.”
Yunho yawned before he opened his eyes, rolling away from the body he’d been wrapped around. He stretched; his whole body and he felt bones pop from shoulder to ankle. Changmin stirred beside him and he reached over to run his hand through his lover’s hair-
His long, too long hair.
His eyes flew open and he didn’t see Changmin, didn’t see the new bangs that framed his face or the lean figure that was a perfect two inches taller than him.
He stared in shock at the wrong person, the bare skin of his back and faded ink of his tattoo and sharp knobs of his spine. Yunho’s mouth opened but for the life of him he couldn’t make a sound.
“Hyung…?”
Yoochun twisted around, throwing a strange look at the man who was sharing his bed.
“You okay…?”
“Y-Yoochun? What the hell?” he managed to stutter out. Shock faded into panic, because he didn’t know exactly how he got here, or how Yoochun got here, or whatever, but all that mattered was that here was happening and they were not wearing any clothes.
He scrambled up, taking the sheets with him. “I-I’m not sure what happened.-”
“Hey, hyung,” Yoochun said slowly. “Yunho, what’s wrong? Calm down.”
He reached for Yunho and the older man flinched. Hurt flashed across Yoochun’s face before it smoothed over into something bitter. “So it’s gonna be like that? I thought we were over this…”
“Over what?!” Yunho said forcefully. And if maybe he sounded a little high-pitched there, he didn’t notice. He was too busy rambling. “What is ‘like this’? How did you get here? You’re not even supposed to be in the apartment! Where’s Changmin?!”
Now Yoochun looked more worried than upset. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about… this! You, you in my bed! Why are you here!?”
“This isn’t funny,” the composer said crossly.
“Damn right it isn’t!”
Yoochun scowled. “I thought you were over this. You can’t keep freaking out over us every time you feel like - there are two people in this relationship, damnit.”
“Re…relationship?”
Yoochun throw his arms in the air and gave that little half-snort that meant he was angry but also about ready to cry. Yunho hadn’t meant… but-
“Fuck you.” Yoochun bite out, standing and grabbing at clothes Yunho was sure weren’t there last night. Yunho averted his eyes to give his bandmate some modesty and by the time he looked back up, Yoochun was already stomping towards the door.
“Wait…”
Yoochun glared at him over his shoulder. “Get over yourself Yunho.”
And then he slammed the door. Yunho clutched the sheets closer to him, not sure if he should feel bad or feel… violated. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “What the fuck,” he breathed.
After a few minutes of attempting to pinch, shake, and slap himself out of this strange strange strange dream, he was forced to face the fact that he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon. He left the privacy of his room hesitantly, dreading what more insanity could be waiting for him.
The living room was empty, but he could hear sounds drifting from the kitchen. Cooking sounds, plates clinking, Junsu laughing - more sounds than had graced the apartment in a long time. He looked to the wall where he had jokingly taped an advent calendar. Jaejoong liked that sort of thing, and he and Min done it as a sort of tribute for their absent bandmates. Or, used-to-be-absent bandmates.
He flipped the cover for December 22. Underneath was a reindeer that was laughing, proclaiming in bright red English text, “Better watch out!”
Well, that was a little creepy.
It was with even more trepidation that he stepped into the kitchen. From the doorway he could see Jaejoong at the stove, stirring something and talking to Yoochun, who was leaning back against the counter with his favorite mug in hand and a sad look on his face. Junsu was playing some hand-held game with a phone wedged between ear and shoulder - talking to his brother, no doubt. Changmin was eating.
He didn’t even look up when Yunho came in.
Yoochun did, however, throwing him a watery glare before walking out of the kitchen, not-so-subtly avoiding Yunho as he did.
Jaejoong looked like he was biting back harsh words, but his baleful expression said it all. Junsu didn’t seem to notice the exchange at all. Changmin didn’t acknowledge it, either, but Yunho knew the youngest had seen it and was paying close attention. As much as he pretended otherwise, he was very observant when it came to the dynamics of the band and even more affected by any negativity he saw.
“What…?” he started, only to realize he didn’t have an end to that question. There were too many of them just to sum it up all at once.
So he turned to the one he usually turned to - Changmin. “What’s going on?” He pleaded.
Changmin looked around as if unsure he was being the one addressed. “Eh? What?”
“Why was Yoochun in my room this morning?” -and not you, he wanted to add, holding back only for some sense of sympathy towards Yoochun.
Changmin shrugged. “Because you’re sleeping together…?”
Jaejoong hissed and hit the youngest on the head, before addressing Yunho. “Because you’re in a relationship, you fool,” he corrected.
“That’s what Yoochun said. But… why?”
“Because he loves you. And you love him. When you feel like it,” Jaejoong growled.
Yunho felt a little dizzy. Time for the next question. “But… still. Why are you all here?”
Confusion slipped onto Jaejoong’s face. “Huh?”
Yunho spread out his arms. “You, Junsu, Yoochun - why are you here?”
“Why… wouldn’t we be?”
“The lawsuit!”
Junsu had hung up the phone and was staring at them with that face that said he was thinking very hard. “What lawsuit, Yunho-hyung?”
What lawsuit?
“The - you three, and management, and - the lawsuit.”
Now all three of them were looking at him weird. “Maybe something’s really wrong with him,” Changmin said.
Yunho felt really dizzy now. “So - let me get this straight - there’s no lawsuit. And Yoochun, and I, we’re - together.”
“Yes…” Jaejoong said slowly.
He turned to Changmin again. “Don’t you care?”
“What?”
“About Yoochun, and the -the togetherness.”
Changmin didn’t even blink. “No?”
And if maybe he passed out right about then, he didn’t notice. He was too busy dying a little on the inside.
He woke on the couch, laid out with four anxious band members hovering over him.
“He’s awake…”
“Should we call an ambulance?”
“No, that’d only freak people out.”
“Think he’s got brain damage?”
There was the sound of someone getting smacked, and Changmin disappeared from his sight with a fake cry of indignation.
He blinked heavily. When he opened his eyes again, it was just Yoochun, perched on the edge of the couch beside him.
“Yunho…” he still sounded teary. Yunho gulped. He didn’t know how to handle Yoochun when he got upset. Hugs were one thing that he could - and didn’t hesitate - to give, but really comforting Yoochun wasn’t one of his talents. Besides, he wasn’t sure a hug was really appropriate right now, when Yoochun was leaning down to kiss-
“Gah!” he flailed, wiggled, attempted to dodge the descending lips.
Yoochun sat straight, obviously hurt at Yunho’s rejection. He looked away and clenched his hands. “What are you doing to me…?” he murmured.
Yunho felt horrible, recognizing and hating the distress on Yoochun’s face, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel guilty. Dream or parallel universe or very very bad acid trip - whatever the hell had put him in this place - he wasn’t going to cheat on Changmin.
“Chunnie-ah…” he said.
“You of all people should that I’m not… not fine - I can’t take this. I know it’s hard, and you’re risking a lot being with me, another guy, but-”
“That was never a problem,” Yunho said automatically. It was always his response, because it had never been a problem, not with Changmin. He had always known he was attracted to men - Changmin wasn’t the first he had felt for, but definitely the first one that was younger than him. It had bothered him for a little while, but as soon as he realized Changmin had returned his feelings it hadn’t mattered. He loved Changmin and that had been all that had mattered. Just because he could not - could never - announce it to the world didn’t make it any less important.
But, it seemed like in this ‘relationship’ with Yoochun, that wasn’t the case. He wondered what that said about him here.
“…You sure act like that’s the problem. And if not, what is it? Me?” the other man said softly, his voice dropping an octave in that low tone that only Yoochun could pull off.
“I… I don’t know,” he answered, a white lie. It’s not like he was going to come out and say, Yes, damnit, you’re not the right one! He could never be so cruel.
“Just, ah… give me some time?” He finished, hoping Yoochun would take him up on it. Time was what he needed, to figure out what was going on and fix it.
“Time? Sure,” Yoochun shrugged, his shoulders moving in a half-hearted motion that seemed to highlight how thin his shoulders were. He still looked too skinny - at least one thing was the same.
“Yooch-”
“You better get ready. Manager’s gonna be here soon.”
Yunho bit his lip, wondering if he should let things end like this. It didn’t seem right, but Yoochun was already standing, walking away, and Yunho did have responsibilities…
“Why aren’t you two being all happy and ridiculous?”
“Huh?”
They were taking a break from dancing, preparing for the new single and it was the same as it should be, except all five of them came to the studio in the same van and Yoochun was still avoiding him and Changmin still wasn’t his lover.
“Did you not make up?” Changmin asked again. “Not yet…?”
Yunho could hear the pleading in his question, and wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I, uh, guess not.”
“Oh. You usually have, by now.”
“Do we… fight a lot?” he tried hesitantly, not wanting to raise suspicion but knowing no other way to go about it. Changmin did give him a calculating look, but Yunho countered it with an innocent shrug that he knew always swayed the younger man.
“Kind of. I mean, you don’t fight fight, but - you know.”
“Not really,” he muttered.
Changmin heard him anyway. “You’re oblivious and uptight,” he said bluntly. “Yoochun’s sensitive and insecure. Sometimes it isn’t all sunshine and daises.”
“No relationship is perfect.” Yunho knew that; he and Changmin had more than their fair share of arguments - usually loud, physical things that resulted in days of cease-fire, steely silences. But they were just arguments. They were regular fights that all five of them had, about time and space and frazzled emotions that only escalated because of how much the two of them cared for each other.
But Changmin gave him a disdainful look. “Definitely not,” he said pointedly. “But - this is too much. You two are either so in love or you’re killing each other. Why can’t you just… keep each other happy?”
The truth sat at the bottom of his throat, pressing on his vocal chords but he just couldn’t let the words pass through. “I don’t know.”
“I’m just so sick of-” He stopped abruptly.
Yunho waited, but Changmin had firmly cut himself off, was even starting to turn away until he reached out and grabbed his arm. “Sick of what?” Yunho spoke directly to the younger man, not letting him break eye contact.
Changmin paled and shook off Yunho’s arm. “N-nothing. Never mind.”
He stalked away, quickly stealing Jaejoong into conversation. He avoided Yunho much the same way for the rest of the day - and that meant he had two band members avoiding him, not just one.
Though, the fleeting glances Changmin kept sliding his way did not go unnoticed. They made his chest ache every time.
That night, back at the apartment, and nothing was going right. Junsu was the only one really talking to him, but the younger man was so intent on beating the next level of his game that he barely raised his head to acknowledge anyone, let alone the seemingly outcast leader.
As for Yunho, between the emotional and physical stress of the day, he was just ready to go to sleep. He ate an apple and a cup of yoghurt for dinner, not thinking he could stomach any more. At some point he heard the front door open. Jaejoong had gone out to meet Taegoon, who was back in Korea for a few days before his upcoming Japanese performance.
Yoochun and Changmin were in the living room. About what he couldn’t guess - well, he could, and he didn’t really want to think about it - and regardless, Yunho wasn’t planning on interrupting that conversation anytime soon.
He went to bed hoping that when he woke up the next morning, the world would be right again.
But to wake up, it meant he had to fall asleep first.
He lay in bed for a near-maddening two hours, doing everything in his power to fall asleep. The sheets were twisted around him in his attempt to get comfortable, he was sick of checking the mounting minutes on the clock. He tried counting members of Super Junior over and over and felt horrible when he couldn’t remember Yehsung on his fourth time around, and it woke him up even more trying to figure out who he was missing.
Around eleven-thirty the door creaked and Yunho kept his eyes steadfastly on the opposite wall, watching the crack of light grow steadily wider. Soon it was a whole block of light cast upon the other wall, sharply framing the shadow of the one who had let it in.
When the door shut Yunho saw the imprint of the light, purple white, drift across his eyes. A hand on his shoulder finally made him turn, and he used the motion to not-so-accidently dislodge it. The rustling of sheets sounded too loud.
“So.” Yoochun said.
It was the start of a conversation. Yunho didn’t want to have a conversation.
“What are you thinking?” Yoochun asked.
“I want to sleep,” he replied honestly.
“You’re avoiding me, hyung.”
“You were too.”
Yoochun fell back onto the bed, his back hitting hard and he made a sound like it had knocked the very breath out of him. He puffed out his cheeks, obviously pouting. “I’m sick of this.”
Yunho recognized the words immediately. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Changmin said I should kick you in the ass. Or talk to you until you understood how I felt and where we want to stand with each other. What boundaries to set.”
That sounded like Changmin, ever the practical one. “Smart, that boy,” Yunho quipped.
“He had some good advice. Really good, when it came to dealing with you. I hadn’t realized you two were that close.”
Yunho laughed lowly, self deprecatingly, “Not as close as I thought.”
Yoochun pursed his lips in question but Yunho shook his head to forestall it. “Fine,” Yoochun bit out, “keep your secrets.”
“No!” he protested quickly. “It’s not… it’s not like that.” Except it was. Kind of. It was a fine line he was treading. He wanted things back to normal, but he didn’t want to hurt Yoochun - and that seemed impossible, with how personally Yoochun seemed to take every little thing he did.
“Listen… I’m just, not having a good day” - major understatement there - “why can’t we leave it at that?” he pleaded.
“I thought you were okay with talking,” Yoochun pointed out. “You agreed it was good advice.”
Yunho resisted the urge to tear at his hair. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, he really didn’t. He loved Yoochun and knew he was a wonderful, wonderful person who would one day make someone very, very happy. He was devoted, caring, protective, and a whole bundle of other qualities most girls - people - found attractive. And if Yunho had felt that way, he would have thought himself lucky to be with Yoochun.
But he didn’t, and the whole situation was more tragic than anything.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“I love you.”
“Yoochun…”
“You don’t have to say it back, or anything. But I love you, and that’s where I stand.” Yoochun wasn’t looking at him, but Yunho could tell just from his expression - the forced casualness, the barely-there tremble of his jaw - how hard the words were to say.
And because he was still the leader, and because he never ever wanted to be the cause of Yoochun’s pain, he gave in. “Oh, come here,” he sighed.
Yoochun didn’t react at first so Yunho reached out and tugged him closer. He wrapped him up in a hug - truly the only thing he knew to do. He’d held Yoochun like this before, and would always be willing to do so. Yoochun seemed more than willing to accept the comfort, too. He laid his head on Yunho’s shoulder, his arm over Yunho’s waist.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
He felt Yoochun shake his head. “It’s okay. It’s enough.” The for now went unspoken between them. “It’ll be better in the morning,” Yoochun said. “A new day, yeah?”
“Yeah.” And Yunho closed his eyes and prayed.
Yunho woke up, immediately aware of his surroundings but still afraid what he would find. But he wasn’t curled around anyone, didn’t feel the weight of another body beside him. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself to be alone in bed.
He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Yoochun…?” he whispered as loudly as possible. When there was no answer, he tried again. “Changmin…?” Still no answer.
He threw aside the sheets, hesitantly leaving the room. The apartment was near silent, much like it had before the strange events of yesterday. But he heard noises from the room they had all their computers in, and made a quick beeline for it.
Junsu was there, playing video games animatedly despite the fact that it was five in the morning. Yunho watched him warily for a moment or two, but the Junsu noticed him, meeting his stare with a guilty look.
“Hyung!” he cried, jumping up from his seat. “I’m sorry I should be sleeping but I couldn’t help it. I’m so close to beating this level, honestly-”
Yunho chuckled at Junsu’s panic; he’d missed the younger man’s energy. Junsu came to stand beside him and he clapped his hand on the other’s shoulder. “It’s okay, really. I’m not mad.”
Junsu beamed at him. “Yah, I knew you’d understand. You’re the best.” And then he leaned in and kissed Yunho on the lips, fast and firm. “’Love you.”
He pulled away and hurried back to his game. Yunho watched him go with wide eyes, before stumbling back out of the room. He leaned against the wall heavily.
And if maybe he fell flat on his ass right after that, he didn’t notice. He was too trying to hear beyond the ringing in his ears.
“What thefuck.” He wondered if this was how it felt to be shell-shocked.
After a good minute in which he managed to recover himself, the first thing he did was search for the other three. But they obviously weren’t present; Yunho searched desperately but the whole apartment was pristine - like it had been scrubbed of any trace of them. And there weren’t any newspapers in the house.
He knew what that meant.
The company didn’t want them reading any bad press about the lawsuit, and had stopped the subscriptions that usually came to the apartment. Yunho knew, however, that their manager secretly got a copy of several newspapers every day and kept them in the locked room he never used anymore. But Yunho also knew where they kept the master key. He wasn’t chosen to be leader for being unobservant. Within ten minutes he had several newspaper clippings in hand, skimming across headlines.
‘Yongwoong Jaejoong, Micky Yoochun, and Choikang Changmin release statement: ‘No intentions of disbanding’...’
‘Three members of Dong Bang Shin Ki hold fan meeting for charity…’
‘Filming of Choikang’s Changmin’s drama delayed because of lawsuit with management…’
Yunho shoved them away quickly, feeling dizzy again. So he wasn’t in the same place he was yesterday, but he sure as hell wasn’t home, either. And - Junsu. Evidently in this place, he was with Junsu. And that thought was just… weird. Less of a world-spinning nausea and more of an odd, almost silly kind of feeling.
He put the newspapers back in their place and locked the manager’s door again. On his way out, the advent calendar on the wall caught his eye. It was exactly the same as the one that had always been there. With apprehension he reached forward, using one finger to lift up the little flap on December 23.
This time it was a dove, and the phrase, “Have yourself a merry little Christmas, it may be your last!”
Yunho frowned. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with this calendar?
He shook his head and tried to brush it off - he needed something normal. Normal… what was more normal than looking over the schedule? He went to find it, and was happy to find it in the same place as always. He flipped through the pages, looking over the next couple of days.
Junsu had rehearsal for his play. Yunho had to attend a meeting about the plans for promoting their new single. They had three days off, and then they’d fly to Japan to meet up with the other members for end-of-the-year activities.
Yunho rubbed at his temples. Meeting with management - hearing them go on and on about restrictions and rules and do-nots - was just not what he needed today. Thinking back to his and Changmin’s schedule - the real schedule - they were supposed to have today off, too. They had planned on going shopping.
He wondered what Changmin was doing now - was he spending time with Jaejoong and Yoochun? He couldn’t fathom a Changmin that would leave SM voluntarily; the youngest of them was the one who liked change the least, and probably the most afraid of losing what they had. He grew up with them and didn’t know anything else - and in the end, he was just too stubborn to let go.
That, however, made him wonder if his Changmin was somewhere out there. If he’d actually left him behind, and now him - everyone, even - was in turn wondering where Yunho had gone.
But that, like a lot of things recently, was something he couldn’t do anything about. And he’d made it through one strange day - he would just have to make it through another.
And it was Junsu. How hard could it be?
Not hard at all, surprisingly. Junsu was gone most of the day for rehearsal, leaving Yunho by himself except for that awful meeting. When Junsu finally got home, he gladly offered to massage Yunho’s tension away. He told Yunho jokes as he worked the muscles of his supposed-lover’s shoulders, horrible horrible jokes and some that were actually kind of funny.
It was all good - except for the surprise-kisses he kept sneaking in, which always left Yunho flailing. Junsu didn’t seem offended by Yunho’s discomfort - he seemed to revel in it, really, laughing obnoxiously every time he succeeded. By the time the sun started to drop, lengthening the shadows in the apartment, Yunho was starting to get really freaked out.
“You just won’t leave me alone, will you!?” he cried.
“Nope! Just admit it, you can’t resist my charisma, admit it hyung,” he laughed.
“Just watch me,” Yunho grumbled, but when Junsu asked him to repeat himself he denied saying anything at all.
“You really are stressed,” Junsu pointed out later at dinner, his tone light but thoughtful. “What’s wrong?”
Yunho picked at his food, still not all that hungry. He answered Junsu with another question. “Why didn’t you join the lawsuit with the others?”
Junsu eyes lowered and Yunho could see him fidget under the sudden tension. “We worked so hard at this, hyung. For so long,” he mumbled. “How could I risk messing it up?”
Yunho nodded in understanding. He had honestly been surprised that Junsu had joined the lawsuit in the first place. It had been Jaejoong and Yoochun’s idea first, and Junsu had hesitated a long time before adding his name to the suit. Six years had to have been a lot to forget, he’d thought.
“If you’d joined-”
“But I didn’t,” Junsu cut him off, looking back up at him. “And that’s that.”
His tone was firm, but Yunho could still hear the echoes of regret.
They fell into uneasy silence, one which didn’t suit them at all, Junsu especially. Before long the other was tapping his foot under the table, the beat of some Christmas song Yunho couldn’t quite identify. But then Junsu was humming and Yunho followed suit, and the next thing he knew Junsu was dragging him out of his chair, away from his half-eaten dinner, saying “Let’s dance!” in English.
“O-kay,” Yunho chuckled, before switching back to Korean. “Hey, slow dow-yah, watch it!” His foot got stuck on his chair and he almost tripped, but Junsu was pulling him forward so fast he didn’t even have time to stumble. Once in the living room, though, the shorter man dropped his hand, leaving him standing there as he went to push the furniture aside.
“Pick the music!” he called over his shoulder. Yunho stuck his tongue out at Junsu’s back but did as he asked. “What type?”
“Something dance-y, duh,” Junsu replied, and Yunho rolled his eyes. He picked a random hip-hop CD and put it into the player. Behind him Junsu was pushing up the rug, revealing polished hardwood that was perfect for dancing.
So they kicked off their shoes and danced.
For Yunho, it was easy to lose himself in the rhythm and steps - and he knew it was the same for Junsu. Dancing was the first thing they had in common, back when they’d met as trainees, and it still was. Junsu understood how it felt to express yourself through dance, to draw strength and confidence simply from moving.
But it was something he hadn’t done in a long time. He found himself wearing out quickly, stamina far from its peak and had to stop because his body couldn’t keep it up any longer. Junsu kept at it, albeit slower, and Yunho took the chance to step back and watch him dance. They’d switched to one of their own CDs, and Yunho felt, as he looked over Junsu dancing to their own choreography, a sense of pride and gratefulness.
“You’re a good friend,” he said to Junsu, just a little while later when the other man had dropped to the floor. They lay side by side and Junsu giggled.
“More than just a friend, I hope,” he said. He reached out and grabbed Yunho’s hand, and Yunho stiffened, not wanting to make this awkward. It had been a good night, and he didn’t want to ruin the mood.
But before he could do as much as draw a breath to speak, Junsu was sitting up, rolling and swinging his leg over Yunho so that he was straddling the older man.
“We’re a lot more than that, aren’t we?” he said, his husky tone not quite matching his faux-innocent smile.
Yunho wheezed and made a feeble attempt to correct Junsu, a stutter of a sound that was quickly cut off by Junsu shoving his mouth onto his, rough and artless and so very Junsu. And again Yunho felt that feeling - dizzy even though he was already lying down, giddy even though there wasn’t much to laugh at.
What resulted then, was - despite the soft pull and tug at his lips that was tempting for the sensation if nothing else - that in one moment Yunho was struck still with surprise, and in the next his vision was fading out and he was giggling uncontrollably into the kiss.
Junsu pulled back, unable to keep up his assault when Yunho was laughing like that. He eyed Yunho warily. “What’s so funny?” he asked, giving him a half-smile that was also very, very Junsu - half certain that the jokes on him, half sure he’s going to laugh along anyway.
Yunho shook his head, slapping a hand to his mouth to stop himself, but he couldn’t. This was all just, so - ridiculous. Here he was, a loyal boyfriend being run through a gauntlet of forbidden and elicit affairs with his other band mates day after day like a test, like something out of classic fairytale. Except instead of being a prince, he was god - in the famous gay pop star sort of way.
And all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe, he was laughing so hard.
“Okay,” Junsu said slowly, “Seriously, what’s going on? What’s up with you today?”
“I’m sor-” he stopped with a snort, mumbling around his hands, “-sorry, I just… heh, it’s been a really… really weird day, hahaha…”
Junsu sighed, rolling his eyes. “Are you going to let me kiss you at all, then?”
Yunho put both hands to his mouth, muffling the noise even as he shook his head. His eyes were starting to water.
“Yah, you’re so weird,” Junsu pouted, and then rolled off him. “I’m going to take a shower, I stink.”
“Pfft-”
“You do too,” he shot back, sounding actually annoyed this time. “But don’t bother joining me.”
Joining Junsu in the shower - immediately he thought of all the nasty jokes Changmin would have inevitably responded with, and the very thought was absurd. But he was so worked up that instead of being sad or disturbed he just laughed even harder.
“Junsu - haha - wait, no I’m sorry, ahahaha-”
But Junsu was already walking away, muttering under his breath. “Tch, you’re such a weirdo. Why do people think you’re cool? You’re not cool at all, if only they knew…”
“Oh, hahahaaa... oh my god I think I’m dying.”
Junsu took over an hour in the shower, using all the hot water in his indignation. But he didn’t seem too angry - obviously his skin was still as thick as ever. Afterwards he slipped out, back to the computer room.
Normally he would chastise Junsu for going back to his computer, but now he was hoping the other actually would stay up all night; that way Yunho could slip into sleep and hopefully, hopefully wake up in the right place this time.
He was just drifting off when he realized no sound was coming from the computer room - obviously Junsu wasn’t playing games, because he always talked when he played, and always loud enough to hear all over the apartment.
Something must be up, he thought. And with two minutes debate, and another couple to manage the effort to get up, he heaved himself out of bed with a groan.
His feet creaked on the hardwood floor, but it was the only sound he heard until he reached the room - and then even then he could only just make out the music coming through the door. He stood close to the door, carefully pushing it open so he could peak in.
Junsu was faced away from him. The lights were off, but the computer screen lit the room a shadowy blue. He wasn’t playing a game, and whatever he was watching was kept secret by the headphones he wore, which leaked only enough tinny sound to be audible, not distinguishable.
He didn’t seem to notice Yunho, and he took the opportunity to move into the room, walking up with soft steps so he could peak over the other’s shoulder.
Junsu was watching an old performance of theirs - Wrong Number, on Inkigayo by the looks of it. It was just at the part where Yunho’s rap was ending and Jaejoong, Changmin, and Junsu were stepping forward, singing their high note in harmony. Yunho watched on with mixed emotions, remembering not the specific show but the feeling of that moment very clearly.
“I miss performing,” Junsu said suddenly, making Yunho jump. Evidently Junsu hadn’t been so oblivious to his presence. “I miss singing on stage and actually enjoying it.”
Yunho echoed the sentiment with a nod, regardless that Junsu still wasn’t looking at him. He placed his hand on the other’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing into the base of his neck where he knew Junsu often got knots of tension.
Junsu’s head dropped as if he enjoyed the massage, but to Yunho it looked more like an act of defeat - and his next words proved it. “Where did we go wrong?” Junsu murmured.
Yunho didn’t give an answer because he didn’t have one. This was one type of talk he and Changmin did carefully avoid, simply because it was easier not too. They understood each other’s pain well enough - why bother giving power to it with words?
But it didn’t seem to satisfy Junsu, whose approach to life didn’t call for such subtleties. Either he took Yunho’s silence for insensitivity or indifference, because a few seconds later he was rolling his shoulders, dislodging Yunho’s hand. He leaned forward to turn up the volume on his laptop, and judging the sound coming from his headphones it had to be nearly deafening.
On Yunho’s part his hand hovered awkwardly in the air, before his pulled his fingers back into a clenched fist. He turned on his heel and walked out, back to the bedroom. He fell onto the bed, wrapped the sheets around him, and generally felt like shit.
“This is all wrong to begin with,” he whispered out loud, thinking maybe it would feel better to voice his thoughts. But all he got was a mouthful of 300-count cotton, and when he dreamed it was of the reindeer and the dove, flying around his head and singing gleefully, “It’s a wonderful fucking life, Jung Yunho, are you enjoying it yet?”
[part two]