Arrival, Departure ; Yoochun/Changmin
This is for junkojjang, because she wanted fic ♥
Title: Arrival, Departure
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): Yoochun/Changmin
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. This is also nothing but pure fiction.
Summary: Yoochun does not remember Changmin, but Changmin remembers Yoochun. He also remembers what happened the night of the accident.
Arrival, Departure
"Hello, you there?" Presses the phone closer to his ear.
"I'm still here." Clutches the phone tighter.
Changmin steps off the bus, hunching over and tugging the hood of his parka lower to avoid the swift patter of rain. A few long strides towards shelter and he pushes the hood off, squinting upwards into the heavy grey sky before looking down at the puddles of rainwater on the ground, reflecting his gloom back at him.
He checks his watch, and then reaches into his pocket to check his cellphone for any messages or calls.
He turns around, the automatic doors of the hospital sliding open to admit him. The place smells like antiseptic, clean and impersonal. Changmin takes about five minutes to find the right ward, and stops at the door, realising that he is empty-handed.
He wonders if he should have brought something.
The door swings open.
He comes face to face with Yoochun.
"Why did you even call again?" Picks up a pencil, puts it down.
"I'm sorry." Exhales, long and heavy.
Yoochun blinks. The person standing outside his ward is tall and skinny. He is wearing a black parka, spotted with rain, and a slow flush rises to his face when he meets Yoochun's eyes.
"Hi," Yoochun says after a moment. "Do I know you?"
The person shrugs. "I'm Changmin," he says.
Yoochun holds the door open wider. "Do you want to come in?" he says politely.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring anything," Changmin says, hands pushed into his pockets.
"It's okay," Yoochun says, unconsciously turning around and looking at the table overflowing with various bouquets of flowers, baskets of fruits and cards (Wishing you a speedy recovery; Get Well Soon!). He sees Changmin follow his gaze, and notices the brief flicker of discomfort that appears on his face when he sees the colourful gifts.
"How are you?" Changmin says, tearing his gaze away from the table, and turning back to look at Yoochun, slowly making his way back to his bed.
Yoochun lifts a hand to touch the bandage around his head. "The doctor says I'm recovering a little slower than expected, but it's okay."
Changmin nods. "You look good," he says, after a pause. "Colour on your face and all," he adds with an awkward gesture.
Yoochun pulls his blanket to his waist, picks up the book lying on the table next to him. "It's really boring here," he says, and then remembers something. "How on earth do you know me?" he looks up, confused, and then with surprise, realises that Changmin is gone, and he is alone in the room once more.
"An apology is not going to make things better." A bitter mirthless laugh.
"I loved you, I really did." Shifts the phone from right ear to the left.
Changmin jabs furiously at the button in the elevator until the doors close. He leans against the wall, fingers curling into loose fists in his pockets, eyes closed. His cellphone vibrates.
"Hello?" Changmin blindly fumbles for his phone, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear.
"It's me," Junsu says. "Did you just go to the hospital?"
The doors slide apart and Changmin opens his eyes. He keeps walking until he is past those automatic doors, until he feels some tension leave his body. "I just left."
"Why the hell did you go?" Junsu says. Changmin has to strain to hear him above the sound of rain, splashing noisily onto the wet ground.
"I didn't tell him anything," Changmin says.
"That is not the point," Junsu is raising his voice, sounding agitated.
Changmin steps right to the edge of the sheltered area, and extends his free hand out, letting the rain wet his palm and fingers. It is startling cold. "Then what is the point?" He snaps his cellphone shut, puts it back in his pocket and steps out into the rain.
"Loved. Past tense." Knuckles the space between his eyes.
"We're not going to work out." Voice cracks, inhales deeply.
Yoochun thinks that time passes far too slowly. He looks up from his book, checks the time on the clock hanging on the opposite wall. Stares at the door, wills someone to walk through it, wishes for something to happen.
It is about five in the evening when Junsu comes.
Yoochun throws his book aside, relief flooding him when Junsu walks through the door. "Thank God you're here," Yoochun says. "I thought I was going to go mad from boredom."
"I would come more often, but unfortunately, I have other things to do," Junsu grins. "Sadly, my life can't just revolve around Park Yoochun, despite how important you are."
Yoochun waits for Junsu to pull up a chair and sit down beside the bed. "Someone came to visit me today," he announces. "His name's Changmin. I don't know who he is, but he knows me."
"Really?" Junsu says, picking up Yoochun's book and reading the blurb on the back.
"He's really tall," Yoochun recalls the way he had to tip his head upwards to meet those eyes. "And good-looking," he adds. "Kind of weird though. He left without even saying goodbye." He remembers the look on Changmin's face when he'd opened the door earlier, and his eyes- so full that Yoochun was afraid they might just spill over any moment.
"Full of secrets," Yoochun muses aloud. Junsu gives him a strange look.
"Do you think he'll come again?" Yoochun asks Junsu.
Junsu smiles, and there is sadness in the smile that Yoochun does not quite understand. "No," he says, handing the book back to Yoochun and standing up. "Apple?" he asks Yoochun, indicating one of the baskets of fruits on the table. He selects one and disappears into the toilet to wash it, before Yoochun can ask him why he is so sure that Changmin will not come again.
"So this is it? The end?" Picks up the pencil again, holds it tight.
"I just- I'm really sorry." Tilts head back, stares at the ceiling.
Changmin lets himself into Yoochun's apartment, and begins the process of systematically erasing any trace of his presence from the house.
Photographs, letters, gifts - he drops them all into the cardboard box he has brought with him.
At about eight, Junsu calls. "He asked about you."
"Is that right?" Changmin says, pulling open a drawer and going through the contents. The Eiffel Tower key chain they bought together last year in Paris. He picks it up, tosses it into the box. He remembers walking down the streets hand in hand with Yoochun, looking curiously into shop windows, their breaths fogging the glass, and making love on their hotel bed.
"You're not going to see him again, are you?" Junsu asks.
Changmin laughs. "No," he says. "I'm not going to see him again." He walks over to the window, pushes it open, and inhales the lonely smell of night falling like a black blanket over the world.
"Changmin," Junsu's voice is soft.
Changmin squeezes his eyes shut. "If you're going to apologize, don't."
"I wasn't going to-"
"If you're feeling sorry for me, don't either," Changmin interrupts. "I'll be alright," he says quietly, and puts down the phone. He turns around, kneels down next to the cardboard box, already three-quarters filled with memories.
He thinks he can keep doing this until Yoochun's apartment is stripped clean, and the memories will still find a way to linger.
"Don't be sorry." Pencil snaps.
"I understand if you hate me." Watches shadows dance across the ceiling.
Yoochun wakes up in the middle of the night, a scream lodged in his throat painfully.
It is always the same nightmare. The car accident that landed him in the hospital - the blinding white light, the sickening spiral into darkness and unbearable screech of tyres. Always the same nightmare - spinning out of control and feeling as though his body is being torn apart - and that voice - so this is it? The end? The words continue ringing in his ears. Yoochun stares at his hands that are curled into tight fists, and loosens them, only to find crescent-shaped cuts left by his nails.
The room is dark and suffocating. His heart beats fast and violent in his chest, and he wonders if he should call for a nurse. The pain in his head escalates and he fights the overwhelming urge to tear the bandages off, or smash his head into the wall.
He waits until his heartbeat slows and the pain finally ebbs into a bearable hum. A heavy sensation settles over his heart, and when he can finally breathe easy again, Yoochun recognizes it as a sense of irrevocable loss.
So this it? The end? The voice asks him over and over, heartbroken and lost.
"I don't hate you." Stares at the two halves of the snapped pencil.
"I'm going to hang up now." Rolls over, and picks up the car keys.
Changmin falls asleep on Yoochun's sofa, and wakes up in the middle of the night, finding himself unable to go back to sleep again.
He looks through the kitchen for something to drink or eat, but ends up thinking about the phone call that he got two weeks ago from Junsu, saying that Yoochun got in a car accident, it's kind of serious. Changmin, it's really kind of serious.
Changmin pours warm milk into a glass, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve.
"I shouldn't feel guilty," Changmin says aloud, his voice echoing around the kitchen. "You left me," he says, before lifting the glass to his lips and drinking deeply. "You left me," he repeats, the taste of milk souring in his mouth.
He rinses the glass, leaves it in the sink to wash the next morning. He lies back down on the sofa, and tries to fall asleep again. He closes his eyes and Junsu's voice rings in his head, saying, he can't remember you, he can't remember you at all.
The doctor said the memory loss is caused by trauma, by Yoochun's head injury from the car crash, but Changmin can't help but wonder if it is because Yoochun wants to forget him so much that he doesn't even want to keep the memories.
"Bye." Snaps phone shut, sweeps the snapped pencil off the table.
"Bye." Takes the car keys, gets out of the house, into the car -
one and half hours later, collides with a delivery van -
upon awakening eight hours later, has no recollection of the phone call,
of initiating the break-up,
of ever having loved Shim Changmin.
Two and a half weeks later, Yoochun is discharged. Junsu drives him back to his apartment, Yoochun watches the scenery rush past outside the window, and when his apartment building looms into view, Yoochun counts the number of storeys until he finds his window. "Home, home, home," he chants under his breath, and Junsu laughs at him.
Junsu helps to unlock the door as Yoochun struggles to take off his shoes, his hands occupied with bags.
"Home," Yoochun announces loudly, stepping into the living room and looking around. "I'll get you a drink," he tells Junsu, throwing the bags onto the floor. "What do you want?"
"Coffee will do," Junsu says, locking the door behind him.
Yoochun hasn't realised how much he missed home. He makes Junsu coffee, and brings it out into the living room where Junsu is sitting.
He walks through all of rooms in his apartment, and for some strange reason, cannot shake off the feeling that something is missing. He collapses on his bed, spread-eagled, staring up at the ceiling.
He ends up falling asleep like that and when he wakes up, it is already six in the evening. Junsu has left him a note - you fell asleep, and I let myself out. Have a good rest. He makes himself dinner, washes the dishes, and watches television.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Yoochun feels like he has returned to his normal, day-to-day life, but still, the feeling that there is something lacking clings onto him. While cleaning the living room, Yoochun realises that Junsu has left his cellphone behind.
There is one missed call.
Changmin, the name reads. The tall, skinny young man with the eyes full of secrets, Yoochun recalls. Yoochun calls Junsu to tell him, you idiot, you forgot to take your phone with you, and then saves Changmin's number into his own cellphone. Changmin, he mouths to himself, and wonders why the syllabuses feel so comfortable rolling off his tongue.
When Changmin wakes up in the morning, sleepy-eyed and yawning, there is one unread message on his cellphone.
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE
Title: Arrival, Departure
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): Yoochun/Changmin
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. This is also nothing but pure fiction.
Summary: Yoochun does not remember Changmin, but Changmin remembers Yoochun. He also remembers what happened the night of the accident.
Arrival, Departure
"Hello, you there?" Presses the phone closer to his ear.
"I'm still here." Clutches the phone tighter.
Changmin steps off the bus, hunching over and tugging the hood of his parka lower to avoid the swift patter of rain. A few long strides towards shelter and he pushes the hood off, squinting upwards into the heavy grey sky before looking down at the puddles of rainwater on the ground, reflecting his gloom back at him.
He checks his watch, and then reaches into his pocket to check his cellphone for any messages or calls.
He turns around, the automatic doors of the hospital sliding open to admit him. The place smells like antiseptic, clean and impersonal. Changmin takes about five minutes to find the right ward, and stops at the door, realising that he is empty-handed.
He wonders if he should have brought something.
The door swings open.
He comes face to face with Yoochun.
"Why did you even call again?" Picks up a pencil, puts it down.
"I'm sorry." Exhales, long and heavy.
Yoochun blinks. The person standing outside his ward is tall and skinny. He is wearing a black parka, spotted with rain, and a slow flush rises to his face when he meets Yoochun's eyes.
"Hi," Yoochun says after a moment. "Do I know you?"
The person shrugs. "I'm Changmin," he says.
Yoochun holds the door open wider. "Do you want to come in?" he says politely.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring anything," Changmin says, hands pushed into his pockets.
"It's okay," Yoochun says, unconsciously turning around and looking at the table overflowing with various bouquets of flowers, baskets of fruits and cards (Wishing you a speedy recovery; Get Well Soon!). He sees Changmin follow his gaze, and notices the brief flicker of discomfort that appears on his face when he sees the colourful gifts.
"How are you?" Changmin says, tearing his gaze away from the table, and turning back to look at Yoochun, slowly making his way back to his bed.
Yoochun lifts a hand to touch the bandage around his head. "The doctor says I'm recovering a little slower than expected, but it's okay."
Changmin nods. "You look good," he says, after a pause. "Colour on your face and all," he adds with an awkward gesture.
Yoochun pulls his blanket to his waist, picks up the book lying on the table next to him. "It's really boring here," he says, and then remembers something. "How on earth do you know me?" he looks up, confused, and then with surprise, realises that Changmin is gone, and he is alone in the room once more.
"An apology is not going to make things better." A bitter mirthless laugh.
"I loved you, I really did." Shifts the phone from right ear to the left.
Changmin jabs furiously at the button in the elevator until the doors close. He leans against the wall, fingers curling into loose fists in his pockets, eyes closed. His cellphone vibrates.
"Hello?" Changmin blindly fumbles for his phone, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear.
"It's me," Junsu says. "Did you just go to the hospital?"
The doors slide apart and Changmin opens his eyes. He keeps walking until he is past those automatic doors, until he feels some tension leave his body. "I just left."
"Why the hell did you go?" Junsu says. Changmin has to strain to hear him above the sound of rain, splashing noisily onto the wet ground.
"I didn't tell him anything," Changmin says.
"That is not the point," Junsu is raising his voice, sounding agitated.
Changmin steps right to the edge of the sheltered area, and extends his free hand out, letting the rain wet his palm and fingers. It is startling cold. "Then what is the point?" He snaps his cellphone shut, puts it back in his pocket and steps out into the rain.
"Loved. Past tense." Knuckles the space between his eyes.
"We're not going to work out." Voice cracks, inhales deeply.
Yoochun thinks that time passes far too slowly. He looks up from his book, checks the time on the clock hanging on the opposite wall. Stares at the door, wills someone to walk through it, wishes for something to happen.
It is about five in the evening when Junsu comes.
Yoochun throws his book aside, relief flooding him when Junsu walks through the door. "Thank God you're here," Yoochun says. "I thought I was going to go mad from boredom."
"I would come more often, but unfortunately, I have other things to do," Junsu grins. "Sadly, my life can't just revolve around Park Yoochun, despite how important you are."
Yoochun waits for Junsu to pull up a chair and sit down beside the bed. "Someone came to visit me today," he announces. "His name's Changmin. I don't know who he is, but he knows me."
"Really?" Junsu says, picking up Yoochun's book and reading the blurb on the back.
"He's really tall," Yoochun recalls the way he had to tip his head upwards to meet those eyes. "And good-looking," he adds. "Kind of weird though. He left without even saying goodbye." He remembers the look on Changmin's face when he'd opened the door earlier, and his eyes- so full that Yoochun was afraid they might just spill over any moment.
"Full of secrets," Yoochun muses aloud. Junsu gives him a strange look.
"Do you think he'll come again?" Yoochun asks Junsu.
Junsu smiles, and there is sadness in the smile that Yoochun does not quite understand. "No," he says, handing the book back to Yoochun and standing up. "Apple?" he asks Yoochun, indicating one of the baskets of fruits on the table. He selects one and disappears into the toilet to wash it, before Yoochun can ask him why he is so sure that Changmin will not come again.
"So this is it? The end?" Picks up the pencil again, holds it tight.
"I just- I'm really sorry." Tilts head back, stares at the ceiling.
Changmin lets himself into Yoochun's apartment, and begins the process of systematically erasing any trace of his presence from the house.
Photographs, letters, gifts - he drops them all into the cardboard box he has brought with him.
At about eight, Junsu calls. "He asked about you."
"Is that right?" Changmin says, pulling open a drawer and going through the contents. The Eiffel Tower key chain they bought together last year in Paris. He picks it up, tosses it into the box. He remembers walking down the streets hand in hand with Yoochun, looking curiously into shop windows, their breaths fogging the glass, and making love on their hotel bed.
"You're not going to see him again, are you?" Junsu asks.
Changmin laughs. "No," he says. "I'm not going to see him again." He walks over to the window, pushes it open, and inhales the lonely smell of night falling like a black blanket over the world.
"Changmin," Junsu's voice is soft.
Changmin squeezes his eyes shut. "If you're going to apologize, don't."
"I wasn't going to-"
"If you're feeling sorry for me, don't either," Changmin interrupts. "I'll be alright," he says quietly, and puts down the phone. He turns around, kneels down next to the cardboard box, already three-quarters filled with memories.
He thinks he can keep doing this until Yoochun's apartment is stripped clean, and the memories will still find a way to linger.
"Don't be sorry." Pencil snaps.
"I understand if you hate me." Watches shadows dance across the ceiling.
Yoochun wakes up in the middle of the night, a scream lodged in his throat painfully.
It is always the same nightmare. The car accident that landed him in the hospital - the blinding white light, the sickening spiral into darkness and unbearable screech of tyres. Always the same nightmare - spinning out of control and feeling as though his body is being torn apart - and that voice - so this is it? The end? The words continue ringing in his ears. Yoochun stares at his hands that are curled into tight fists, and loosens them, only to find crescent-shaped cuts left by his nails.
The room is dark and suffocating. His heart beats fast and violent in his chest, and he wonders if he should call for a nurse. The pain in his head escalates and he fights the overwhelming urge to tear the bandages off, or smash his head into the wall.
He waits until his heartbeat slows and the pain finally ebbs into a bearable hum. A heavy sensation settles over his heart, and when he can finally breathe easy again, Yoochun recognizes it as a sense of irrevocable loss.
So this it? The end? The voice asks him over and over, heartbroken and lost.
"I don't hate you." Stares at the two halves of the snapped pencil.
"I'm going to hang up now." Rolls over, and picks up the car keys.
Changmin falls asleep on Yoochun's sofa, and wakes up in the middle of the night, finding himself unable to go back to sleep again.
He looks through the kitchen for something to drink or eat, but ends up thinking about the phone call that he got two weeks ago from Junsu, saying that Yoochun got in a car accident, it's kind of serious. Changmin, it's really kind of serious.
Changmin pours warm milk into a glass, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve.
"I shouldn't feel guilty," Changmin says aloud, his voice echoing around the kitchen. "You left me," he says, before lifting the glass to his lips and drinking deeply. "You left me," he repeats, the taste of milk souring in his mouth.
He rinses the glass, leaves it in the sink to wash the next morning. He lies back down on the sofa, and tries to fall asleep again. He closes his eyes and Junsu's voice rings in his head, saying, he can't remember you, he can't remember you at all.
The doctor said the memory loss is caused by trauma, by Yoochun's head injury from the car crash, but Changmin can't help but wonder if it is because Yoochun wants to forget him so much that he doesn't even want to keep the memories.
"Bye." Snaps phone shut, sweeps the snapped pencil off the table.
"Bye." Takes the car keys, gets out of the house, into the car -
one and half hours later, collides with a delivery van -
upon awakening eight hours later, has no recollection of the phone call,
of initiating the break-up,
of ever having loved Shim Changmin.
Two and a half weeks later, Yoochun is discharged. Junsu drives him back to his apartment, Yoochun watches the scenery rush past outside the window, and when his apartment building looms into view, Yoochun counts the number of storeys until he finds his window. "Home, home, home," he chants under his breath, and Junsu laughs at him.
Junsu helps to unlock the door as Yoochun struggles to take off his shoes, his hands occupied with bags.
"Home," Yoochun announces loudly, stepping into the living room and looking around. "I'll get you a drink," he tells Junsu, throwing the bags onto the floor. "What do you want?"
"Coffee will do," Junsu says, locking the door behind him.
Yoochun hasn't realised how much he missed home. He makes Junsu coffee, and brings it out into the living room where Junsu is sitting.
He walks through all of rooms in his apartment, and for some strange reason, cannot shake off the feeling that something is missing. He collapses on his bed, spread-eagled, staring up at the ceiling.
He ends up falling asleep like that and when he wakes up, it is already six in the evening. Junsu has left him a note - you fell asleep, and I let myself out. Have a good rest. He makes himself dinner, washes the dishes, and watches television.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Yoochun feels like he has returned to his normal, day-to-day life, but still, the feeling that there is something lacking clings onto him. While cleaning the living room, Yoochun realises that Junsu has left his cellphone behind.
There is one missed call.
Changmin, the name reads. The tall, skinny young man with the eyes full of secrets, Yoochun recalls. Yoochun calls Junsu to tell him, you idiot, you forgot to take your phone with you, and then saves Changmin's number into his own cellphone. Changmin, he mouths to himself, and wonders why the syllabuses feel so comfortable rolling off his tongue.
When Changmin wakes up in the morning, sleepy-eyed and yawning, there is one unread message on his cellphone.
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE