irresistible
pairing: changmin/junsu
length: oneshot
a/n: dedicated to safiew because this is all her fault. titled after jessica simpson’s irresistible, which (hilariously enough) is what inspired this fic. also i may have messed up the timeline a bit (a lot), but let's use the creative license card for that, okay?
summary: Changmin's fascination with Junsu starts a few days after the elder takes up yoga.
irresistible
Sometimes as they fly across the continent at dawn with sleep saturated eyes and tired minds, Changmin looks out the window and stares at the clouds, daydreaming about living life as a normal person. He pictures a quiet life - anonymous and healthy, real and comfortable.
If he had known from the start that his life would play out like this -
He probably would have let it happen anyway.
Ever since he signed the coveted contract and tied himself to a corporate giant for the better half of his youth, there has been a gargantuan pile of expectations resting on his shoulders, and he finds it growing slowly, cultivating its roots deep into his soul and grating on his mind. He is to smile and indulge the fans no matter how tired or sleep deprived he is, and he must eat less than he wants just because they said so. He must sing and dance for hours on end, in cramped practice rooms for management to judge and then on a stage in front of thousands of fans, and he must execute it all perfectly while maintaining his breath and staying synchronized with the rest of the members.
Failure is not an option.
They tell him to hand over his phone, and he does so without complaint.
As they crop his hair and colour it starstruck, smearing his face with bottled perfection, they tell him to give up his friends and his family and his past and his future and to instead embody the careful construction of a personality that he does not possess.
He struggles with it on his own for longer than he knows.
While Changmin is hovering somewhere between trying hard and giving up, Junsu sweeps in and unknowingly steals his image.
In doing so, he spills water all over his hard work, incognisant and unapologetic, and he smiles happily along the way.
At first Changmin is angry - upset, and he is no longer sure of who to be when the cameras turn on.
“Just be yourself,” Junsu responds as he licks the melting ice cream off the side of his cone. His lips are smeared with chocolate, his cheeks are flushed with satisfaction, and the words come to him easily (just like everything else).
Changmin hates him for it.
He finds forgiveness a few weeks later when he tries to follow his advice and the fans eat up the ‘new’ him.
Shim Changmin is a hit - and gratitude follows soon after.
Because no matter how hard he thinks about it, the cute image was destined to be Junsu’s from the start.
The aegyo simmers underneath his skin, veiled only by carelessly carved charisma, and once the cameras turn off, it slips through easily. Junsu isn’t trying to be cute - not in the least - but he is pure and he is innocent, both inside and out, and the more comfortable he becomes with the cameras, the more apparent it becomes.
Eventually fans get a hold of this side of him, and they coax and they tug until it’s out in the open for the rest of the world to see. Management frowns at him, disappointed, and eventually they dismiss his original image in exchange for Changmin’s.
The weight is lifted.
“It suits him,” the members say, and the smiles on their faces are full of mischief because although this new version of Xiah fits Junsu like a glove, it comes with its consequences, like becoming the nation’s little brother and the punch line of all their jokes. They tease and they bully, and they make sure that Junsu always gets the short end of the stick - and fortunately for them, it is part of his job description to accept it all as it comes.
One of the things that Junsu has learned to accept is being the first to get ready in the morning.
It happens a few days after they move into the new dorms, where there is only one bathroom to be shared between five members, and Junsu literally draws the shortest stick in the lot. The next day, when it is time to draw lots again, someone throws out the suggestion that the order should become permanent, and since they are all lazy self-preservationists, that is how it stays.
Junsu whines and he protests at the unfairness of it all, but Yoochun wraps an arm around his shoulders, cooing at his misfortune, and Jaejoong laughs along, gloating about being last, and eventually Changmin and Yunho join in as well.
Junsu does not get his way.
And so he is always showered and ready to go when Changmin wakes up. The first rays of sunlight are barely peeking through the curtains, and by the time Changmin is toweling his hair dry, the elder is usually practicing his parts under his breath as he makes a mess in the kitchen.
Recently management has told him to lose some weight, and so he has abandoned breakfast in favour of exercise.
They all breathe a sigh of relief when they are granted a few days of rest after their concert tour.
The blanket of darkness is only slightly illuminated by the blue numbers glowing 04:57 on his bedside table, and Changmin wants nothing more than to turn over and go back to sleep (he deserves this, damn it, he has earned this break) but nature calls - it is insistent - and so he grudgingly shuffles out of bed.
He brushes his teeth out of habit, and it is only when he has washed his face and freshened up that he remembers his brilliant plan had been to go back to bed. But Changmin is nothing if not an opportunist, and so he decides that if plan A has been scrapped, then the next best course of action is to visit the kitchen.
Being an idol means constantly being surrounded by screaming fans whenever he steps outside, and living with four energetic males makes it equally impossible to find peace and quiet in the house. Right now though, his footsteps echo in the still and the quiet and so he breathes in the silence and lets himself indulge. He is munching on the cereal, deliberately slow, contemplating whether anything worth watching will be on tv as he makes his way down the hall.
When he reaches the lounge, he is greeted by the sight of Junsu’s butt sticking up in the air as he tries to mimic some ridiculous yoga position from the girl on the tv screen. The girl, he notes, has an elegance to her posture, but Junsu just looks comical as he slowly lifts up one of his legs and tries to stay balanced on one knee.
His eyes are furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking out, and Changmin feels his heart skip a beat.
(This is his fall from grace.)
“Beautiful,” the girl croons from behind the screen. Junsu sways. “Just like that.”
Something inside him snaps.
He snorts out laughing, cereal flying in all directions, and Junsu loses hold on his position. He falls back on his hands and knees with teardrop eyes opened wide in shock.
“Yah, Shim Changmin!” he shouts as he hastily reaches for the remote and turns off the tv. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” but it falls on deaf ears as Changmin clutches at his sides, amusement bursting out the seams as he presses his forehead to the carpet and heaves with mismatched eyes.
Eventually Junsu joins him on the floor. His laughter sounds high and embarrassed, and it blends in so, so right next to Changmin’s that he finds himself wondering why they have never considered recording a duet.
“Help me clean up the cereal,” Changmin murmurs when he has finally caught his breath. Junsu’s cheeks are tinged with pink and there is a smile playing on his lips as he extends his hand to help him up.
When Changmin goes to sleep, he dreams of him.
The next time he wakes up earlier than expected and finds Junsu in the midst of his morning routine, he is goaded into joining him instead of standing around snickering and trying to unbalance him. Changmin is not one to back down from a challenge, and so he tries, but his mind is half asleep and his limbs are too long for the tight space, and after he snubs his toe for the fourth time, he huffs and sits at the side. As he sips at his juice and stares at Junsu’s butt clenching and unclenching beneath sweatpants riding low, he thinks that he finally understands why Cassiopeia is so obsessed with it.
He decides that he prefers observing more than he likes participating.
(Because in all honesty, that is what he does most of the time anyway.)
Being coddled by his hyungs is not the same as being their friend.
They are taking advantage of their anonymity in a foreign country by walking through the streets undisguised, laughing and joking in their own tongue, relaxed. Yoochun smokes and Jaejoong drinks and they all eat like pigs, unafraid of hidden cameras or management disapproval.
Yoochun has his arm around Junsu’s waist as he teases him for his small hands, and in turn Junsu balls them into fists and smacks him without venom. Jaejoong has one hand interleaved with Yunho’s, and he uses his other to tug at a lock of Yoochun’s hair. They share a look, a silent conversation, and soon they all find themselves heading to a local restaurant.
Changmin stays a few steps behind the others, watching. He laughs when he catches something funny and he comments when he has something to contribute but mostly he busies himself with his new camera, and it filters out the harsh colours of reality by capturing the beauty around it.
“You took a picture of Junsu’s butt?” Yunho and Yoochun are going through the snapshots in the hotel room, and Changmin struggles to fight a blush.
“It must have been an accident,” he lies as he unpacks his pajamas. “I was playing with the settings.”
Yoochun winks at him as he lays back on the bed, lacing his fingers behind his head. “You should keep it. We’ll frame it and put it up at home.”
Changmin keeps it, but he never shares.
He knows that he can blow off the whole academia thing like his hyungs did, knows that he is expected to, but being raised by professors means that there are standards that he needs to meet, and Changmin hates disappointment. Besides, he enjoys this - proving that he can, even when the others can’t. Wherein their strengths lie in the music they make, Changmin’s comes from his intellect, and he does not intend to let that go.
And considering the fact that he has always been good at independent learning, it really isn’t that hard.
Except for the fact that he can never get himself to focus these days.
He is lying on his bed trying to read his Advanced Physics textbook, and Junsu is a source of constant distraction.
Right now he is making up distant melodies in his head as he plays games on his laptop, voicing them out with words that don’t exist, and his jaw moves dangerously with the sound. It might have also been really helpful if he liked wearing pants at the dorm because when he taps his feet, Changmin can see the muscles moving in his thighs - strong from all the soccer, bane of the stylists’ existence - and he bites his cheek and he wants him to (never) stop.
Their eyes catch.
“Why are you staring at me?” Junsu’s tone is light, teasing. There is a song shining in his voice.
Changmin thinks Junsu is like a diamond - sharp and smooth yet raw around the edges, sparkling underneath the sun and lighting up the world, completely transparent, and virtually impossible to break.
“It’s ‘cause you’re ugly,” Changmin doesn’t mean it. “Like a trainwreck. I can’t look away.”
Yoochun chuckles from underneath his covers. “Good one.”
Junsu pouts, murmuring under his breath about evil band members who think good looks give them extra privileges, and turns over on his stomach in retaliation.
Priceless, Changmin thinks.
He does not feel the least bit sorry as he smirks and stares some more.
(Junsu is etched on the inside of his lids.
When he closes his eyes he still sees him - clearly
in the middle of the lounge facing the tv screen
open and free, breathless and determined, just like on stage
and Junsu is his hyung; Junsu is a boy,
but Changmin doesn’t give a crap because Junsu is Junsu, and Changmin wants him).
Jaejoong figures it out the fastest.
Changmin is not sure whether he should attribute it to Jaejoong’s unfounded affection for him and his desire to play the role of an overprotective (and abusive) elder brother or if it’s because of his one-sided rivalry with Junsu, but somewhere in between the one shots and the late night snacks and the new album promotions, he corners him in the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
“Are you crushing on Junsu?” It comes out more like an accusation than a question, and it roots his feet to the ground. His smile fades.
“I -“ The water is running and so no one will hear. “What makes you think that?”
“Oh god - so you are.” Changmin is about to deny it when Jaejoong sits him down on the edge of the tub with a hard set jaw and a frown in his eyes. “Listen to me,” he says. His new circle lenses dramatize his expression, making him look a lot less intrusive and a lot more concerned. “It’s a terrible idea. You can’t tell him.”
Changmin was never going to. He knows that Junsu is a filial son, a devoted Christian, and way too focused on this whole music career than he could ever be on a relationship, and Changmin is not stupid - he has no intention of breaking his own heart.
“You’re way too good for him,” and Changmin almost scoffs, because out of all the reasons Jaejoong could have come up with, this was the last thing he expected to hear.
He supposes that it’s true though. Putting all of his musical talent aside, Junsu is merely average. He isn’t handsome and he isn’t smart and he can’t cook or clean or dress himself to save his life. He imagines taking him home to meet his parents and receiving disappointed looks in response. Later they would shake their heads and berate his decision, saying ‘out of all the members, this is the one you chose?’
“I don’t like him, hyung.”
I am better than you, he thinks to himself the next time he outwits Junsu in public. You don’t even deserve me, and the gleeful self-importance makes him forget how his heart is in Junsu’s hands regardless of whether or not he deserves it.
“Junsu is pure,” he rationalizes during an interview, and realizes that he could never have hated him for it.
Like freshly fallen snow. Like pure water. Like an elementary school student.
Changmin wants to destroy him.
“For someone who doesn’t like him, you’re not doing a very good job of acting like it, you know.” Jaejoong chastises him. His hair is unstyled and there is a bit of bread stuck between his teeth as he takes another bite off his burger. “At this rate even the fans are going to find out,” and Changmin is appalled at the notion.
“I’m not even talking to him!” he gestures at the tv screen - another rerun of one of their guest appearances - where he is awkwardly lurking behind the eldest two as they talk and laugh at the camera.
“You patronize him all the time,” Jaejoong comments with a scrunched nose. “It’s disgusting. Like watching elementary school students.”
When the camera zooms out, it catches Yoochun whispering something in Junsu’s ear, and it catches Changmin’s gaze flicker back and forth between them. Junsu sticks his tongue out as he eats, and Changmin is the first to notice. He laughs, points it out to the camera and laughs even harder until Junsu’s cheeks are tinted a pretty shade of pink. Jaejoong takes another bite and he snorts.
“I swear to god, you’re smitten.”
Ultimately, Jaejoong’s grand advice is to tell him to look beyond the walls of the dorm - to explore the world outside and see what else he can find, because he is young and he is confused and he clearly doesn’t know what he wants.
“Once you find something better - which you will - you’ll move on easily,” he promises.
Changmin finds porn.
The fundamentals are always the same - a badly enacted introduction followed by two (or more, if he downloads that kind) people doing the deed. But there are so many variations - gender and race and kinks and actors, that Changmin wants to watch them all. He doesn’t really care for the details as long as the video quality is HD. Changmin likes everything, and he has no problem sharing this on national television.
They ban him from variety (which honestly isn’t as humiliating as it is relieving - he always hated putting in the effort). They tell him to stop watching porn. Stop ordering, stop downloading, stop watching. 'This is not idol behaviour,' they say. 'We thought you were better than this.'
The more they tell him to stop, the more he watches.
And the more he watches, the more he wants it.
With Junsu.
And so he wakes every day with a distant longing coiling inside his belly that sings to him of all things he cannot have. It isn’t like he hasn’t seen Junsu naked, and it isn’t like his hyung is anything impressive to look at - but Junsu is special inside and out. Junsu is special to him, and acknowledging it makes his heart burn. He tries to smother it with food, biting into it with a passion he cannot fake for the cameras, and Jaejoong laughs and feeds him more until he is sufficiently sated.
It doesn’t work.
Changmin still wants too much.
He wants too much and Junsu doesn’t care enough, and it never really stops.
“Yah, why did you stop calling me hyung?” It has been weeks, but Junsu only asks about it now that they are in the van, as Yoochun laughingly relays a particularly embarrassing episode to the manager.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, but somewhere in between the teasing and the arguing and the laughing and the fighting, Changmin accidentally omitted the hyung when he called his name. Junsu seemed to accept it easily, a testament to their level of comfort, and so from then onwards, Changmin kept it that way.
“You don’t deserve it,” he grins in response.
Junsu’s left eye is watering, rimmed with red, and his hand hovers above his cheek, scared of smearing the makeup yet itching to take out his contacts. “Just wait until this last shoot,” Yunho urges, and Junsu nods.
When Changmin looks up from his phone, he catches a tear slip through his eye and he quickly dabs it with a tissue, leaving behind no trace that it ever existed.
He thinks Junsu looks most beautiful when he cries.
Changmin likes proving people wrong. He likes debating with his friends and talking back (even if it’s just in his head) and he likes starting arguments, if only for the sake of arguing. He only follows instructions when they come from a higher authority because it is easier than facing the consequences of rebellion, and even then, he picks and he chooses. (Work smarter, not harder is his and Yoochun’s motto.)
He doesn’t follow Jaejoong’s advice because Jaejoong is an idiot who does not deserve the honour.
At least that is what he tells himself.
He has tried and he has tried (in vain) to abandon his feelings for Junsu - to box them up and throw them out on empty sidewalks as he passes through remote countries, only to come back home and discover that they have been here all along, hiding in between the echoes and the cracks, and that what he had left behind instead were things that he wanted, things that he needed - like his wit, his pride, and lately his sanity.
Perhaps he had never meant to throw away his feelings to begin with. Maybe he had actually meant to keep them, to bury them underground so no one could see, but he would nurture them all the same, until they grew out onto surface and took over his heart and his mind and his soul.
These feelings are here to stay. They are real, and lately they have become large enough to encompass his entire world.
The day he realizes that, he goes to Yunho for help.
“Hyung,” Changmin is quiet, hesitant in his approach, and that in itself is enough for Yunho to understand how difficult it is for him to have this conversation. He sets his phone on the coffee table and sits up, giving him his full attention. Sometimes Changmin wonders whether he still thinks of liabilities and responsibilities as synonyms.
“What’s up?”
“I think- I have a crush on someone,” and Yunho’s face lights up in excitement as he coos about his dearest maknae growing up and finding love and 'as long as you’re careful and don’t let management find out, you have my full support, Changmin-ah'.
Changmin opens up slowly, testing the waters as he lets Yunho in. “It’s a boy,” he tells him, and when Yunho’s smile doesn’t fade, Changmin feels a heavy weight lift off his chest.
“He must be very lucky. Have you told him yet?”
“Jaejoong hyung thinks I shouldn’t,” he responds carefully, and a frown starts forming on Yunho’s face. Changmin can only imagine the path his mind must be taking, and Jaejoong would probably kill him for leading him there, and so he quickly adds, “He may be right.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, um. The guy - he’s kind of an idiot,” Changmin admits, and Yunho’s eyes widen as he connects the dots.
“You can’t,” Yunho breathes finally, and there is a hushed sort of urgency to his tone that betrays his calm facade. Changmin’s face falls, and it only takes a heartbeat for his mind to spin itself into a migraine, and he feels the pain seeping through his chest with hurt and betrayal and rejection and disappointment and everything he had been avoiding thinking about thus far in life.
“He’s so innocent,” Yunho explains, and the light falls on his face and illuminates the scar beneath his eye. “You’ll corrupt him.”
Changmin facepalms.
Ridiculous as it is, Yunho is serious about his rationale, and Changmin furrows his brows as he wonders why the hell he cares about Junsu’s stupid innocence more than he cares about his heart.
Yunho is useless, he concludes.
The night they finish recording, the eldest three go out drinking.
Junsu does not drink alcohol, and Changmin is underage, and so they stay at home together and order fried chicken, eating it while watching badly subtitled English movies. They’re very much the same in their quiet indulgence, and the silence that flows in is smooth and comforting.
Junsu is a messy eater - he spills crumbs on the carpet and lets the oil drip onto his shirt. A droplet of ketchup makes its way down the side of his hand, and he laps it up with an enthusiastic tongue. His lips pause around his thumb, savouring the residual flavour. He inhales his food and when he is done he sits with his legs spread wide like he has nothing to hide as he stares at the screen mesmerized.
He leaves the plates on the floor for Changmin to clean.
Later, while they are both completely absorbed in the movie, Changmin’s cell phone vibrates with a text. The room lights up a cosmic blue with the notification, and his eyes land on Junsu picking at the chapped skin on his lips with his tiny hands.
Save me, his heart whimpers to his mind.
Save yourself, his mind bites back.
“Fetus,” he mumbles.
“Sorry?”
“You should be.” Silence.
“For what?”
“Your mind is a fetus.”
This is a conversation he has while he is asleep.
Sometimes Changmin hates, in love - he doesn’t want to be in love - and sometimes he lashes out.
Junsu doesn’t deserve it - doesn’t deserve any of the shit that they give him, but it is that same cheerful spirit of his that keeps them going at it every time he rebounds. They don’t intend to hurt him, aren’t thinking of that at all, but sometimes hurt comes as an inevitable side effect of all the jokes.
His face falls, hardening immediately into what Changmin has learned to identify as his game face, leveled as if he is being filmed yet detached from conversation and focused on another thought as he leans back to stare at the rain fogged windows after a particularly snide comment.
Changmin bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds regret.
Don’t let me fool you, he wants to scream at his retreating back.
Instead he helps himself to another serving and asks Yoochun if his song is ready.
(For Junsu it is easy to forgive and easier to forget and so it isn’t long before a smile weaves itself back onto his face in easy acceptance. But even as the days pass, Changmin still cannot remove that dejected image from his mind.)
Preparing for the next album has them all on brand new diets, and every time they think they feel hungry, they are told to hit the gym instead. Yoochun is used to self-imposed starvation diets (“Slow metabolism,” he cheers), but Jaejoong and Changmin work out with full dedication, and Yunho and Junsu actually have the stamina to compete on the track once they are done with the gym.
And so Changmin looks good, he knows. That was why he was scouted in the first place, and age and professional styling have been good to him. But somehow now so does Junsu, as the soft contours of his face get more defined and his stomach gets toned into hardness. Sometimes when the lights hit his frame at the right angles, Junsu looks like a celebrity, and Changmin finds himself feeling vaguely starstruck.
In a particularly stupid moment of bravery, Changmin sinks his teeth into the flesh of his arm. “YAH, CHANGMIN,” Junsu yells in his ear as he tries to push his head away, and Changmin grins around the skin before giving it a wet lick. It tastes like salt. “That’s disgusting!”
Junsu bruises, and Changmin can’t erase the pride from his expression every time he sees it. Junsu kicks him in retaliation, and it hurts.
This time they both smile.
“You just have to take the first step,” Coach Yoochun tells him during their spontaneous advising session on a Monday off. “You have to be bold when it comes to Junsu, or else he’s never going to find out.”
“How did you find out,” Changmin asks as he sips on his coffee, curious.
“Because you’re a dumbass,” he deadpans through his composer glasses. “The more comfortable you are with people, the more you fight with them. With Jaejoong I’m guessing it’s because you two idiots just like to fight. But you always start the arguments with Junsu. Clearly you’re begging for his attention.”
When Changmin sighs in defeat, carelessly setting his empty cup aside, Yoochun claps his leg cheerfully. “Don’t be down about it. Junsu cares, he just doesn’t know it.”
“Junsu cares about all of us,” Changmin whines as he sinks into the seat. “How does that make me special?”
And Yoochun wraps an arm around him, playfully knocking their knees together as he draws him close. “You’re the maknae,” he whispers as if it’s a secret, and only the two of them can understand.
Changmin doesn’t understand.
“Look, you’re a type B too - you should know this. He takes everything at face value, so if you really want him, you need to tell him straight up.”
“I don’t want to,” he mumbles to himself as he turns on the tv.
“Junsu.”
“…”
“Hey, Junsu.”
“Mmm?” he mumbles sleepily from his bed.
“What do you think of me?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No. Just answer me.”
“…you’re my cute dongsaeng, of course.”
Changmin wants to hit him. Instead he turns over under the covers and pretends to go back to sleep.
Yoochun decides to prove himself by picking up the phone and sending out a mass text. Changmin deadpans as he grins. “This will work, trust me.”
“What did you do?” he asks, as he shifts closer, just as Yoochun’s phone starts ringing. He winks as he picks up, and Junsu’s anxious voice seeps through the speakers. Yoochun replies with a similar urgency, making up a story about how Changmin got into trouble with some guys in a back alley and came home all beat up and “shit, if I take him to the hospital he’ll get recognized, but the bleeding is really bad. Fuck, I can’t get in touch with the manager - what am I supposed to do?”
When he finally admits to it all being a joke, Junsu does not get mad or complain. Instead he lets out a shuddering breath of relief and confides that he would have felt like crap if it all really had occurred and he hadn’t been around to protect the maknae - which sounds fascinatingly odd coming from him because Changmin is taller and he is smarter and he is stronger and more self-sufficient than Junsu. But the sentiment is strong, genuine, and Changmin hurts when he lets it sink in.
They hear car engines turning off, and Junsu confesses that he had left the family gathering to come check up on Changmin.
“Told you so,” Yoochun mouths.
Changmin remains silent.
The next time Yoochun goes out drinking with Jaejoong and Yunho, he leaves Changmin with a bottle of lube and a box of condoms decorated with emoji stickers and motivational post-its.
Be bold. Be the Changmin I know. Go get that ass.
Even as Changmin rolls his eyes, he can’t help but feel somewhat grateful that there is someone in the world to encourage him. He grins, imagining Junsu’s reaction if he approached him acting as greasy as Yoochun - 'Junsu hyung, come to papa~', and he ends up laughing all by himself.
When he goes to their room, Junsu is asleep. The tv screen flashes ‘GAME OVER’ back at him as the console rests at the edge of the bed, begging to fall off the moment he turns. Changmin beats the level for him before turning off the screen and sitting at the edge of the bed. Junsu looks adorable, like a kitten, contorting in his sleep, and Changmin watches a sliver of his heart leave him with every breath that he takes. He turns off the lights and he imagines.
Junsu doesn’t think in straight lines or connected pathways of reason. He thinks in bursts, picking up a stray thought from a nearby sonata or another from the threads in his shirt. There is a silent request resting on his lashes, upturned to reflect the fluorescent light as he bites his lips and Changmin wonders if he could touch it if he just reached out, and maybe if he could reach him, he could unravel his soul and lay it on the universe.
Yunho sighs and tells him, 'fine, but be back before manager hyung wakes up. I’m not responsible if you get caught.'
Changmin feels his heart shatter.
When Changmin deflates, he takes it out on everyone. Yunho, for not telling him. Yoochun, for not knowing, and Jaejoong just because.
Junsu comes home looking elated. “I kissed her!” he cheers, and Changmin locks himself in the bathroom with his laptop and bums out all his fangirls by sending them mean UFO replies. Misery loves company.
He clamps up completely. He doesn’t go out when they ask, he doesn’t play their video games, and he lets them do all the entertaining when they are on set. He eats less than usual and watches unnecessarily violent movies, stubborn with the remote even when Junsu wants to watch soccer.
Jaejoong says he’s mourning, but he doesn’t really care.
If Junsu notices, he doesn’t comment.
It goes on for longer than he knows.
Eventually Junsu breaks up with his girlfriend, but Changmin cannot find it in himself to feel happy about it because when Junsu breaks down in tears in front of them, watching him feels like having the air sapped straight out of his lungs. There is a different sort of beauty to this, he recognizes, and it is so painful that he never wants to see it again.
Junsu can go to hell, he thinks as he stubbornly stays in bed. He feels wide awake, but he knows that if he goes outside he will find the elder in the living room trying out his new advanced yoga lessons. Changmin has friends outside of this apartment, and when he finally gets out of bed, instead of heading to the lounge to greet his members, he goes out to meet them instead.
“I’m lonely,” Junsu comments on camera, “because Changminnie doesn’t bother me anymore.”
Junsu is a dumbass, he thinks even as he smiles and laughs and lets the stream of conversation flow elsewhere. Yoochun’s hand rests on his thigh, comforting, but it doesn’t work and all Changmin wants to do is knock Junsu’s chair off with his feet and tell him how much he hates him.
He dreams about Junsu again.
This time he comes in the form of an all you can eat buffet with a neon red sign welcoming Changmin to indulge. There is roasted Junsu, fried Junsu, Junsu-flavoured pudding, and more. He tries a bit of everything, but none of them taste good. Even so, he keeps on going until he is filled to the brim and ready to throw up, and still he cannot have enough.
He wakes with beads of sweat embedded in his hair as he heaves at the images in his head. He imagines that this is a sick sort of foreshadowing of his future and wonders if it means that he will never give up his unhealthy obsession.
“Are you mad at me?” Junsu is hovering above him, careful.
Changmin just wants to tell him to stop, to get out of his sight and out of his mind and preferably stay away forever. “What?” is what he coughs out instead, slowly sitting up in his bed. He thinks that he has caught Yoochun’s cold.
Junsu gestures at the wall behind him. “You dented it trying to punch me while you slept,” he explains, wincing at the memory, “and you’ve been meaner than usual for a while now.”
“I don’t know what I did to hurt you,” he continues when Changmin remains silent a second too long. He takes hold of his hands and pulls them into his lap. “But whatever it is, I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t be mad anymore.”
The earnest expression on his face is something Changmin expects to see on a child, not a grown man, and he wants to groan when he sees it, but what comes out instead is laboured breathing because Junsu leans in too close when he talks, and Changmin does not want to see the details of his iris, and even if he did, Junsu is pressing too hard onto his knuckles and it hurts. He retracts his hand with a grimace.
“Shit,” Junsu’s eyes widen as he sees the red and purple bruises on his hand. Changmin curls and unfurls his palm, watching the colours on his knuckles fade and return in painful fascination. “I’m so sorry,” Junsu flails, “I didn’t realize.” Of course he wouldn’t. Junsu is naïve, hopeless, a complete idiot who cannot focus on anything but his chosen task, and of course he wouldn’t think to look before he leaped. Junsu wants Changmin to stop being distant, but he doesn’t think to ask why he is acting like this to begin with.
Changmin glares, and Junsu falters.
“I’m a shit hyung, aren’t I?” his voice sounds small, rejected, and Changmin nods in blunt agreement. Junsu sighs. “I’m sorry,” he repeats as he stands. “I’m just going to go repent in a trash can or something.”
There is a haze in Changmin’s mind from the fever, wrapped around his intellect, holding it down so that he thinks in colours and sounds and a blur of feelings. Instead of letting him go and moving on, he reaches out and wraps his fingers around Junsu’s wrists, stopping him in his tracks. “Wait.”
Junsu smiles hopefully.
“How about you repent in a restaurant instead?” He feels like a complete idiot, because this may just be the lamest way of asking anyone out, but Junsu is clearly the dumber of the two because he cocks his head to a side looking completely befuddled.
“While eating,” he elaborates.
“With me.” And it still doesn’t click.
“Like on a date,” he explains slowly, and Junsu’s jaw falls to the floor in response. Changmin can’t decide whether it’s shock or disgust or a mixture of the two, and for the few seconds of silence that follow, fear digs its claws into his heart, making it skip several beats and the discomfort crawls its way up his throat and surrounds his cheeks with a heated flush.
And then Junsu beams.
“So all the PMS-ing you were doing,” he says slowly, as if he is trying to make sense of the entire planet by himself, “that was your mating dance?”
Changmin groans and buries himself under the covers.
“How long?” Junsu asks. He has crawled into the bed beside him, sharing his pillow and facing him so that for once he almost seems as tall as him. Their fingers are linked in between their chests. Junsu’s hands are small in Changmin’s and though they make fun of them all the time, they’re also amazingly warm and soft and feel perfectly right just the way they are. He runs his thumb over a vein and Changmin shivers from the feeling. He is burning up, and he cannot decide if it is because of the fever or Junsu.
“A couple of years,” Changmin confesses, and he wants to shy away when Junsu’s hand rises to caress his cheek in wonder.
“You’re an idiot,” he says. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” He yanks at his ear.
Changmin can easily hurt him in retaliation, but the admonishment is full of affection. Junsu is the cute one, the one who acts the least like a hyung around him. Junsu is the one whose attention he craves the most, and so when he gets it, even if he is chastising him, Changmin revels in it instead. “You’re the idiot,” he mumbles into the pillow. “You never picked up on any of my hints.”
“Hints my ass,” he bites back, and Changmin swallows down his laughter. It was Junsu’s stupid ass sticking up in the lounge that started all of this to begin with. “You were just afraid, weren’t you?”
No, I was not, he wants to say. I wasn’t thinking about you at all. But he really was, and instead of admitting it he smacks Junsu’s mouth and smiles when he feels a finger nipped between his teeth.
Junsu’s hands are running through his hair, caressing softly, trying to lull him back to sleep. This brand of attention is rare and inexplicably intimate coming from Junsu, and Changmin can’t possibly go back to sleep when he’s on the receiving end. He doesn’t have the words to say how he feels right now, and even if he did they’d be lost somewhere between the path from his heart and his throat. Junsu kisses his forehead and his heartbeat skyrockets.
“You’ll get sick,” Changmin warns him, but his hand rests possessively on Junsu’s hip, and he doesn’t move their tangled legs.
“Lovesick,” Junsu jokes, and even though Changmin snorts, he hasn’t felt this elated since their debut stage.
His heart thrums happily beneath his ribcage.
The next time Changmin wakes, he feels completely refreshed. The fever is gone, and the first thing he notices is the darkness surrounding the room and the fact that Junsu is no longer in his bed.
His hair is still wet from the shower when Changmin finds him singing their latest single under his breath as he brews some tea in the kitchen.
“Hey,” Changmin says, leaning against the doorframe, feeling suddenly wary. He isn’t sure how to act. He feels a familiar sort of self-consciousness draping over his shoulders and he remembers back when Junsu told him that the best way to woo the fans was to be himself.
“Hey,” Junsu replies with a grin as he reaches for the sugar. It’s ridiculous how easy it is for him to fall into this new relationship when Changmin is scared out of his mind, but then again, everything comes easily to Junsu. “Feeling better?”
He nods, relieved that it wasn’t all a dream as he wraps his arms around his middle. Mine, he thinks, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.
As Junsu cheerfully returns the embrace, he mumbles something about feeling guilty for taking advantage of the precious maknae, and it sounds utterly ridiculous, because this was the very reason why Yunho had warned Changmin to stay away from Junsu. When he tells him that, Junsu huffs and complains about how it has been years since they’ve been working together and still none of them ever bother asking him what he thinks.
Changmin tightens his grip on his hip and pulls him close enough that he can practically taste it when Junsu sighs, happy.
They stay that way for what feels like eons, and when the sun finally rises it illuminates a silent blush on his neck. Changmin reaches up to touch it, and he feels the pulse racing underneath his skin. Junsu is just as nervous as him, and as his mind replays the past few years he can’t believe that this is actually happening.
His eyes flutter close as their lips touch, and when they part, breathless, he knows that he will never be sated.
Junsu smiles, and the world falls into place around them.
length: oneshot
a/n: dedicated to safiew because this is all her fault. titled after jessica simpson’s irresistible, which (hilariously enough) is what inspired this fic. also i may have messed up the timeline a bit (a lot), but let's use the creative license card for that, okay?
summary: Changmin's fascination with Junsu starts a few days after the elder takes up yoga.
irresistible
Sometimes as they fly across the continent at dawn with sleep saturated eyes and tired minds, Changmin looks out the window and stares at the clouds, daydreaming about living life as a normal person. He pictures a quiet life - anonymous and healthy, real and comfortable.
If he had known from the start that his life would play out like this -
He probably would have let it happen anyway.
Ever since he signed the coveted contract and tied himself to a corporate giant for the better half of his youth, there has been a gargantuan pile of expectations resting on his shoulders, and he finds it growing slowly, cultivating its roots deep into his soul and grating on his mind. He is to smile and indulge the fans no matter how tired or sleep deprived he is, and he must eat less than he wants just because they said so. He must sing and dance for hours on end, in cramped practice rooms for management to judge and then on a stage in front of thousands of fans, and he must execute it all perfectly while maintaining his breath and staying synchronized with the rest of the members.
Failure is not an option.
They tell him to hand over his phone, and he does so without complaint.
As they crop his hair and colour it starstruck, smearing his face with bottled perfection, they tell him to give up his friends and his family and his past and his future and to instead embody the careful construction of a personality that he does not possess.
He struggles with it on his own for longer than he knows.
While Changmin is hovering somewhere between trying hard and giving up, Junsu sweeps in and unknowingly steals his image.
In doing so, he spills water all over his hard work, incognisant and unapologetic, and he smiles happily along the way.
At first Changmin is angry - upset, and he is no longer sure of who to be when the cameras turn on.
“Just be yourself,” Junsu responds as he licks the melting ice cream off the side of his cone. His lips are smeared with chocolate, his cheeks are flushed with satisfaction, and the words come to him easily (just like everything else).
Changmin hates him for it.
He finds forgiveness a few weeks later when he tries to follow his advice and the fans eat up the ‘new’ him.
Shim Changmin is a hit - and gratitude follows soon after.
Because no matter how hard he thinks about it, the cute image was destined to be Junsu’s from the start.
The aegyo simmers underneath his skin, veiled only by carelessly carved charisma, and once the cameras turn off, it slips through easily. Junsu isn’t trying to be cute - not in the least - but he is pure and he is innocent, both inside and out, and the more comfortable he becomes with the cameras, the more apparent it becomes.
Eventually fans get a hold of this side of him, and they coax and they tug until it’s out in the open for the rest of the world to see. Management frowns at him, disappointed, and eventually they dismiss his original image in exchange for Changmin’s.
The weight is lifted.
“It suits him,” the members say, and the smiles on their faces are full of mischief because although this new version of Xiah fits Junsu like a glove, it comes with its consequences, like becoming the nation’s little brother and the punch line of all their jokes. They tease and they bully, and they make sure that Junsu always gets the short end of the stick - and fortunately for them, it is part of his job description to accept it all as it comes.
One of the things that Junsu has learned to accept is being the first to get ready in the morning.
It happens a few days after they move into the new dorms, where there is only one bathroom to be shared between five members, and Junsu literally draws the shortest stick in the lot. The next day, when it is time to draw lots again, someone throws out the suggestion that the order should become permanent, and since they are all lazy self-preservationists, that is how it stays.
Junsu whines and he protests at the unfairness of it all, but Yoochun wraps an arm around his shoulders, cooing at his misfortune, and Jaejoong laughs along, gloating about being last, and eventually Changmin and Yunho join in as well.
Junsu does not get his way.
And so he is always showered and ready to go when Changmin wakes up. The first rays of sunlight are barely peeking through the curtains, and by the time Changmin is toweling his hair dry, the elder is usually practicing his parts under his breath as he makes a mess in the kitchen.
Recently management has told him to lose some weight, and so he has abandoned breakfast in favour of exercise.
They all breathe a sigh of relief when they are granted a few days of rest after their concert tour.
The blanket of darkness is only slightly illuminated by the blue numbers glowing 04:57 on his bedside table, and Changmin wants nothing more than to turn over and go back to sleep (he deserves this, damn it, he has earned this break) but nature calls - it is insistent - and so he grudgingly shuffles out of bed.
He brushes his teeth out of habit, and it is only when he has washed his face and freshened up that he remembers his brilliant plan had been to go back to bed. But Changmin is nothing if not an opportunist, and so he decides that if plan A has been scrapped, then the next best course of action is to visit the kitchen.
Being an idol means constantly being surrounded by screaming fans whenever he steps outside, and living with four energetic males makes it equally impossible to find peace and quiet in the house. Right now though, his footsteps echo in the still and the quiet and so he breathes in the silence and lets himself indulge. He is munching on the cereal, deliberately slow, contemplating whether anything worth watching will be on tv as he makes his way down the hall.
When he reaches the lounge, he is greeted by the sight of Junsu’s butt sticking up in the air as he tries to mimic some ridiculous yoga position from the girl on the tv screen. The girl, he notes, has an elegance to her posture, but Junsu just looks comical as he slowly lifts up one of his legs and tries to stay balanced on one knee.
His eyes are furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking out, and Changmin feels his heart skip a beat.
(This is his fall from grace.)
“Beautiful,” the girl croons from behind the screen. Junsu sways. “Just like that.”
Something inside him snaps.
He snorts out laughing, cereal flying in all directions, and Junsu loses hold on his position. He falls back on his hands and knees with teardrop eyes opened wide in shock.
“Yah, Shim Changmin!” he shouts as he hastily reaches for the remote and turns off the tv. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” but it falls on deaf ears as Changmin clutches at his sides, amusement bursting out the seams as he presses his forehead to the carpet and heaves with mismatched eyes.
Eventually Junsu joins him on the floor. His laughter sounds high and embarrassed, and it blends in so, so right next to Changmin’s that he finds himself wondering why they have never considered recording a duet.
“Help me clean up the cereal,” Changmin murmurs when he has finally caught his breath. Junsu’s cheeks are tinged with pink and there is a smile playing on his lips as he extends his hand to help him up.
When Changmin goes to sleep, he dreams of him.
The next time he wakes up earlier than expected and finds Junsu in the midst of his morning routine, he is goaded into joining him instead of standing around snickering and trying to unbalance him. Changmin is not one to back down from a challenge, and so he tries, but his mind is half asleep and his limbs are too long for the tight space, and after he snubs his toe for the fourth time, he huffs and sits at the side. As he sips at his juice and stares at Junsu’s butt clenching and unclenching beneath sweatpants riding low, he thinks that he finally understands why Cassiopeia is so obsessed with it.
He decides that he prefers observing more than he likes participating.
(Because in all honesty, that is what he does most of the time anyway.)
Being coddled by his hyungs is not the same as being their friend.
They are taking advantage of their anonymity in a foreign country by walking through the streets undisguised, laughing and joking in their own tongue, relaxed. Yoochun smokes and Jaejoong drinks and they all eat like pigs, unafraid of hidden cameras or management disapproval.
Yoochun has his arm around Junsu’s waist as he teases him for his small hands, and in turn Junsu balls them into fists and smacks him without venom. Jaejoong has one hand interleaved with Yunho’s, and he uses his other to tug at a lock of Yoochun’s hair. They share a look, a silent conversation, and soon they all find themselves heading to a local restaurant.
Changmin stays a few steps behind the others, watching. He laughs when he catches something funny and he comments when he has something to contribute but mostly he busies himself with his new camera, and it filters out the harsh colours of reality by capturing the beauty around it.
“You took a picture of Junsu’s butt?” Yunho and Yoochun are going through the snapshots in the hotel room, and Changmin struggles to fight a blush.
“It must have been an accident,” he lies as he unpacks his pajamas. “I was playing with the settings.”
Yoochun winks at him as he lays back on the bed, lacing his fingers behind his head. “You should keep it. We’ll frame it and put it up at home.”
Changmin keeps it, but he never shares.
He knows that he can blow off the whole academia thing like his hyungs did, knows that he is expected to, but being raised by professors means that there are standards that he needs to meet, and Changmin hates disappointment. Besides, he enjoys this - proving that he can, even when the others can’t. Wherein their strengths lie in the music they make, Changmin’s comes from his intellect, and he does not intend to let that go.
And considering the fact that he has always been good at independent learning, it really isn’t that hard.
Except for the fact that he can never get himself to focus these days.
He is lying on his bed trying to read his Advanced Physics textbook, and Junsu is a source of constant distraction.
Right now he is making up distant melodies in his head as he plays games on his laptop, voicing them out with words that don’t exist, and his jaw moves dangerously with the sound. It might have also been really helpful if he liked wearing pants at the dorm because when he taps his feet, Changmin can see the muscles moving in his thighs - strong from all the soccer, bane of the stylists’ existence - and he bites his cheek and he wants him to (never) stop.
Their eyes catch.
“Why are you staring at me?” Junsu’s tone is light, teasing. There is a song shining in his voice.
Changmin thinks Junsu is like a diamond - sharp and smooth yet raw around the edges, sparkling underneath the sun and lighting up the world, completely transparent, and virtually impossible to break.
“It’s ‘cause you’re ugly,” Changmin doesn’t mean it. “Like a trainwreck. I can’t look away.”
Yoochun chuckles from underneath his covers. “Good one.”
Junsu pouts, murmuring under his breath about evil band members who think good looks give them extra privileges, and turns over on his stomach in retaliation.
Priceless, Changmin thinks.
He does not feel the least bit sorry as he smirks and stares some more.
(Junsu is etched on the inside of his lids.
When he closes his eyes he still sees him - clearly
in the middle of the lounge facing the tv screen
open and free, breathless and determined, just like on stage
and Junsu is his hyung; Junsu is a boy,
but Changmin doesn’t give a crap because Junsu is Junsu, and Changmin wants him).
Jaejoong figures it out the fastest.
Changmin is not sure whether he should attribute it to Jaejoong’s unfounded affection for him and his desire to play the role of an overprotective (and abusive) elder brother or if it’s because of his one-sided rivalry with Junsu, but somewhere in between the one shots and the late night snacks and the new album promotions, he corners him in the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
“Are you crushing on Junsu?” It comes out more like an accusation than a question, and it roots his feet to the ground. His smile fades.
“I -“ The water is running and so no one will hear. “What makes you think that?”
“Oh god - so you are.” Changmin is about to deny it when Jaejoong sits him down on the edge of the tub with a hard set jaw and a frown in his eyes. “Listen to me,” he says. His new circle lenses dramatize his expression, making him look a lot less intrusive and a lot more concerned. “It’s a terrible idea. You can’t tell him.”
Changmin was never going to. He knows that Junsu is a filial son, a devoted Christian, and way too focused on this whole music career than he could ever be on a relationship, and Changmin is not stupid - he has no intention of breaking his own heart.
“You’re way too good for him,” and Changmin almost scoffs, because out of all the reasons Jaejoong could have come up with, this was the last thing he expected to hear.
He supposes that it’s true though. Putting all of his musical talent aside, Junsu is merely average. He isn’t handsome and he isn’t smart and he can’t cook or clean or dress himself to save his life. He imagines taking him home to meet his parents and receiving disappointed looks in response. Later they would shake their heads and berate his decision, saying ‘out of all the members, this is the one you chose?’
“I don’t like him, hyung.”
I am better than you, he thinks to himself the next time he outwits Junsu in public. You don’t even deserve me, and the gleeful self-importance makes him forget how his heart is in Junsu’s hands regardless of whether or not he deserves it.
“Junsu is pure,” he rationalizes during an interview, and realizes that he could never have hated him for it.
Like freshly fallen snow. Like pure water. Like an elementary school student.
Changmin wants to destroy him.
“For someone who doesn’t like him, you’re not doing a very good job of acting like it, you know.” Jaejoong chastises him. His hair is unstyled and there is a bit of bread stuck between his teeth as he takes another bite off his burger. “At this rate even the fans are going to find out,” and Changmin is appalled at the notion.
“I’m not even talking to him!” he gestures at the tv screen - another rerun of one of their guest appearances - where he is awkwardly lurking behind the eldest two as they talk and laugh at the camera.
“You patronize him all the time,” Jaejoong comments with a scrunched nose. “It’s disgusting. Like watching elementary school students.”
When the camera zooms out, it catches Yoochun whispering something in Junsu’s ear, and it catches Changmin’s gaze flicker back and forth between them. Junsu sticks his tongue out as he eats, and Changmin is the first to notice. He laughs, points it out to the camera and laughs even harder until Junsu’s cheeks are tinted a pretty shade of pink. Jaejoong takes another bite and he snorts.
“I swear to god, you’re smitten.”
Ultimately, Jaejoong’s grand advice is to tell him to look beyond the walls of the dorm - to explore the world outside and see what else he can find, because he is young and he is confused and he clearly doesn’t know what he wants.
“Once you find something better - which you will - you’ll move on easily,” he promises.
Changmin finds porn.
The fundamentals are always the same - a badly enacted introduction followed by two (or more, if he downloads that kind) people doing the deed. But there are so many variations - gender and race and kinks and actors, that Changmin wants to watch them all. He doesn’t really care for the details as long as the video quality is HD. Changmin likes everything, and he has no problem sharing this on national television.
They ban him from variety (which honestly isn’t as humiliating as it is relieving - he always hated putting in the effort). They tell him to stop watching porn. Stop ordering, stop downloading, stop watching. 'This is not idol behaviour,' they say. 'We thought you were better than this.'
The more they tell him to stop, the more he watches.
And the more he watches, the more he wants it.
With Junsu.
And so he wakes every day with a distant longing coiling inside his belly that sings to him of all things he cannot have. It isn’t like he hasn’t seen Junsu naked, and it isn’t like his hyung is anything impressive to look at - but Junsu is special inside and out. Junsu is special to him, and acknowledging it makes his heart burn. He tries to smother it with food, biting into it with a passion he cannot fake for the cameras, and Jaejoong laughs and feeds him more until he is sufficiently sated.
It doesn’t work.
Changmin still wants too much.
He wants too much and Junsu doesn’t care enough, and it never really stops.
“Yah, why did you stop calling me hyung?” It has been weeks, but Junsu only asks about it now that they are in the van, as Yoochun laughingly relays a particularly embarrassing episode to the manager.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, but somewhere in between the teasing and the arguing and the laughing and the fighting, Changmin accidentally omitted the hyung when he called his name. Junsu seemed to accept it easily, a testament to their level of comfort, and so from then onwards, Changmin kept it that way.
“You don’t deserve it,” he grins in response.
Junsu’s left eye is watering, rimmed with red, and his hand hovers above his cheek, scared of smearing the makeup yet itching to take out his contacts. “Just wait until this last shoot,” Yunho urges, and Junsu nods.
When Changmin looks up from his phone, he catches a tear slip through his eye and he quickly dabs it with a tissue, leaving behind no trace that it ever existed.
He thinks Junsu looks most beautiful when he cries.
Changmin likes proving people wrong. He likes debating with his friends and talking back (even if it’s just in his head) and he likes starting arguments, if only for the sake of arguing. He only follows instructions when they come from a higher authority because it is easier than facing the consequences of rebellion, and even then, he picks and he chooses. (Work smarter, not harder is his and Yoochun’s motto.)
He doesn’t follow Jaejoong’s advice because Jaejoong is an idiot who does not deserve the honour.
At least that is what he tells himself.
He has tried and he has tried (in vain) to abandon his feelings for Junsu - to box them up and throw them out on empty sidewalks as he passes through remote countries, only to come back home and discover that they have been here all along, hiding in between the echoes and the cracks, and that what he had left behind instead were things that he wanted, things that he needed - like his wit, his pride, and lately his sanity.
Perhaps he had never meant to throw away his feelings to begin with. Maybe he had actually meant to keep them, to bury them underground so no one could see, but he would nurture them all the same, until they grew out onto surface and took over his heart and his mind and his soul.
These feelings are here to stay. They are real, and lately they have become large enough to encompass his entire world.
The day he realizes that, he goes to Yunho for help.
“Hyung,” Changmin is quiet, hesitant in his approach, and that in itself is enough for Yunho to understand how difficult it is for him to have this conversation. He sets his phone on the coffee table and sits up, giving him his full attention. Sometimes Changmin wonders whether he still thinks of liabilities and responsibilities as synonyms.
“What’s up?”
“I think- I have a crush on someone,” and Yunho’s face lights up in excitement as he coos about his dearest maknae growing up and finding love and 'as long as you’re careful and don’t let management find out, you have my full support, Changmin-ah'.
Changmin opens up slowly, testing the waters as he lets Yunho in. “It’s a boy,” he tells him, and when Yunho’s smile doesn’t fade, Changmin feels a heavy weight lift off his chest.
“He must be very lucky. Have you told him yet?”
“Jaejoong hyung thinks I shouldn’t,” he responds carefully, and a frown starts forming on Yunho’s face. Changmin can only imagine the path his mind must be taking, and Jaejoong would probably kill him for leading him there, and so he quickly adds, “He may be right.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, um. The guy - he’s kind of an idiot,” Changmin admits, and Yunho’s eyes widen as he connects the dots.
“You can’t,” Yunho breathes finally, and there is a hushed sort of urgency to his tone that betrays his calm facade. Changmin’s face falls, and it only takes a heartbeat for his mind to spin itself into a migraine, and he feels the pain seeping through his chest with hurt and betrayal and rejection and disappointment and everything he had been avoiding thinking about thus far in life.
“He’s so innocent,” Yunho explains, and the light falls on his face and illuminates the scar beneath his eye. “You’ll corrupt him.”
Changmin facepalms.
Ridiculous as it is, Yunho is serious about his rationale, and Changmin furrows his brows as he wonders why the hell he cares about Junsu’s stupid innocence more than he cares about his heart.
Yunho is useless, he concludes.
The night they finish recording, the eldest three go out drinking.
Junsu does not drink alcohol, and Changmin is underage, and so they stay at home together and order fried chicken, eating it while watching badly subtitled English movies. They’re very much the same in their quiet indulgence, and the silence that flows in is smooth and comforting.
Junsu is a messy eater - he spills crumbs on the carpet and lets the oil drip onto his shirt. A droplet of ketchup makes its way down the side of his hand, and he laps it up with an enthusiastic tongue. His lips pause around his thumb, savouring the residual flavour. He inhales his food and when he is done he sits with his legs spread wide like he has nothing to hide as he stares at the screen mesmerized.
He leaves the plates on the floor for Changmin to clean.
Later, while they are both completely absorbed in the movie, Changmin’s cell phone vibrates with a text. The room lights up a cosmic blue with the notification, and his eyes land on Junsu picking at the chapped skin on his lips with his tiny hands.
Save me, his heart whimpers to his mind.
Save yourself, his mind bites back.
“Fetus,” he mumbles.
“Sorry?”
“You should be.” Silence.
“For what?”
“Your mind is a fetus.”
This is a conversation he has while he is asleep.
Sometimes Changmin hates, in love - he doesn’t want to be in love - and sometimes he lashes out.
Junsu doesn’t deserve it - doesn’t deserve any of the shit that they give him, but it is that same cheerful spirit of his that keeps them going at it every time he rebounds. They don’t intend to hurt him, aren’t thinking of that at all, but sometimes hurt comes as an inevitable side effect of all the jokes.
His face falls, hardening immediately into what Changmin has learned to identify as his game face, leveled as if he is being filmed yet detached from conversation and focused on another thought as he leans back to stare at the rain fogged windows after a particularly snide comment.
Changmin bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds regret.
Don’t let me fool you, he wants to scream at his retreating back.
Instead he helps himself to another serving and asks Yoochun if his song is ready.
(For Junsu it is easy to forgive and easier to forget and so it isn’t long before a smile weaves itself back onto his face in easy acceptance. But even as the days pass, Changmin still cannot remove that dejected image from his mind.)
Preparing for the next album has them all on brand new diets, and every time they think they feel hungry, they are told to hit the gym instead. Yoochun is used to self-imposed starvation diets (“Slow metabolism,” he cheers), but Jaejoong and Changmin work out with full dedication, and Yunho and Junsu actually have the stamina to compete on the track once they are done with the gym.
And so Changmin looks good, he knows. That was why he was scouted in the first place, and age and professional styling have been good to him. But somehow now so does Junsu, as the soft contours of his face get more defined and his stomach gets toned into hardness. Sometimes when the lights hit his frame at the right angles, Junsu looks like a celebrity, and Changmin finds himself feeling vaguely starstruck.
In a particularly stupid moment of bravery, Changmin sinks his teeth into the flesh of his arm. “YAH, CHANGMIN,” Junsu yells in his ear as he tries to push his head away, and Changmin grins around the skin before giving it a wet lick. It tastes like salt. “That’s disgusting!”
Junsu bruises, and Changmin can’t erase the pride from his expression every time he sees it. Junsu kicks him in retaliation, and it hurts.
This time they both smile.
“You just have to take the first step,” Coach Yoochun tells him during their spontaneous advising session on a Monday off. “You have to be bold when it comes to Junsu, or else he’s never going to find out.”
“How did you find out,” Changmin asks as he sips on his coffee, curious.
“Because you’re a dumbass,” he deadpans through his composer glasses. “The more comfortable you are with people, the more you fight with them. With Jaejoong I’m guessing it’s because you two idiots just like to fight. But you always start the arguments with Junsu. Clearly you’re begging for his attention.”
When Changmin sighs in defeat, carelessly setting his empty cup aside, Yoochun claps his leg cheerfully. “Don’t be down about it. Junsu cares, he just doesn’t know it.”
“Junsu cares about all of us,” Changmin whines as he sinks into the seat. “How does that make me special?”
And Yoochun wraps an arm around him, playfully knocking their knees together as he draws him close. “You’re the maknae,” he whispers as if it’s a secret, and only the two of them can understand.
Changmin doesn’t understand.
“Look, you’re a type B too - you should know this. He takes everything at face value, so if you really want him, you need to tell him straight up.”
“I don’t want to,” he mumbles to himself as he turns on the tv.
“Junsu.”
“…”
“Hey, Junsu.”
“Mmm?” he mumbles sleepily from his bed.
“What do you think of me?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No. Just answer me.”
“…you’re my cute dongsaeng, of course.”
Changmin wants to hit him. Instead he turns over under the covers and pretends to go back to sleep.
Yoochun decides to prove himself by picking up the phone and sending out a mass text. Changmin deadpans as he grins. “This will work, trust me.”
“What did you do?” he asks, as he shifts closer, just as Yoochun’s phone starts ringing. He winks as he picks up, and Junsu’s anxious voice seeps through the speakers. Yoochun replies with a similar urgency, making up a story about how Changmin got into trouble with some guys in a back alley and came home all beat up and “shit, if I take him to the hospital he’ll get recognized, but the bleeding is really bad. Fuck, I can’t get in touch with the manager - what am I supposed to do?”
When he finally admits to it all being a joke, Junsu does not get mad or complain. Instead he lets out a shuddering breath of relief and confides that he would have felt like crap if it all really had occurred and he hadn’t been around to protect the maknae - which sounds fascinatingly odd coming from him because Changmin is taller and he is smarter and he is stronger and more self-sufficient than Junsu. But the sentiment is strong, genuine, and Changmin hurts when he lets it sink in.
They hear car engines turning off, and Junsu confesses that he had left the family gathering to come check up on Changmin.
“Told you so,” Yoochun mouths.
Changmin remains silent.
The next time Yoochun goes out drinking with Jaejoong and Yunho, he leaves Changmin with a bottle of lube and a box of condoms decorated with emoji stickers and motivational post-its.
Be bold. Be the Changmin I know. Go get that ass.
Even as Changmin rolls his eyes, he can’t help but feel somewhat grateful that there is someone in the world to encourage him. He grins, imagining Junsu’s reaction if he approached him acting as greasy as Yoochun - 'Junsu hyung, come to papa~', and he ends up laughing all by himself.
When he goes to their room, Junsu is asleep. The tv screen flashes ‘GAME OVER’ back at him as the console rests at the edge of the bed, begging to fall off the moment he turns. Changmin beats the level for him before turning off the screen and sitting at the edge of the bed. Junsu looks adorable, like a kitten, contorting in his sleep, and Changmin watches a sliver of his heart leave him with every breath that he takes. He turns off the lights and he imagines.
Junsu doesn’t think in straight lines or connected pathways of reason. He thinks in bursts, picking up a stray thought from a nearby sonata or another from the threads in his shirt. There is a silent request resting on his lashes, upturned to reflect the fluorescent light as he bites his lips and Changmin wonders if he could touch it if he just reached out, and maybe if he could reach him, he could unravel his soul and lay it on the universe.
Yunho sighs and tells him, 'fine, but be back before manager hyung wakes up. I’m not responsible if you get caught.'
Changmin feels his heart shatter.
When Changmin deflates, he takes it out on everyone. Yunho, for not telling him. Yoochun, for not knowing, and Jaejoong just because.
Junsu comes home looking elated. “I kissed her!” he cheers, and Changmin locks himself in the bathroom with his laptop and bums out all his fangirls by sending them mean UFO replies. Misery loves company.
He clamps up completely. He doesn’t go out when they ask, he doesn’t play their video games, and he lets them do all the entertaining when they are on set. He eats less than usual and watches unnecessarily violent movies, stubborn with the remote even when Junsu wants to watch soccer.
Jaejoong says he’s mourning, but he doesn’t really care.
If Junsu notices, he doesn’t comment.
It goes on for longer than he knows.
Eventually Junsu breaks up with his girlfriend, but Changmin cannot find it in himself to feel happy about it because when Junsu breaks down in tears in front of them, watching him feels like having the air sapped straight out of his lungs. There is a different sort of beauty to this, he recognizes, and it is so painful that he never wants to see it again.
Junsu can go to hell, he thinks as he stubbornly stays in bed. He feels wide awake, but he knows that if he goes outside he will find the elder in the living room trying out his new advanced yoga lessons. Changmin has friends outside of this apartment, and when he finally gets out of bed, instead of heading to the lounge to greet his members, he goes out to meet them instead.
“I’m lonely,” Junsu comments on camera, “because Changminnie doesn’t bother me anymore.”
Junsu is a dumbass, he thinks even as he smiles and laughs and lets the stream of conversation flow elsewhere. Yoochun’s hand rests on his thigh, comforting, but it doesn’t work and all Changmin wants to do is knock Junsu’s chair off with his feet and tell him how much he hates him.
He dreams about Junsu again.
This time he comes in the form of an all you can eat buffet with a neon red sign welcoming Changmin to indulge. There is roasted Junsu, fried Junsu, Junsu-flavoured pudding, and more. He tries a bit of everything, but none of them taste good. Even so, he keeps on going until he is filled to the brim and ready to throw up, and still he cannot have enough.
He wakes with beads of sweat embedded in his hair as he heaves at the images in his head. He imagines that this is a sick sort of foreshadowing of his future and wonders if it means that he will never give up his unhealthy obsession.
“Are you mad at me?” Junsu is hovering above him, careful.
Changmin just wants to tell him to stop, to get out of his sight and out of his mind and preferably stay away forever. “What?” is what he coughs out instead, slowly sitting up in his bed. He thinks that he has caught Yoochun’s cold.
Junsu gestures at the wall behind him. “You dented it trying to punch me while you slept,” he explains, wincing at the memory, “and you’ve been meaner than usual for a while now.”
“I don’t know what I did to hurt you,” he continues when Changmin remains silent a second too long. He takes hold of his hands and pulls them into his lap. “But whatever it is, I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t be mad anymore.”
The earnest expression on his face is something Changmin expects to see on a child, not a grown man, and he wants to groan when he sees it, but what comes out instead is laboured breathing because Junsu leans in too close when he talks, and Changmin does not want to see the details of his iris, and even if he did, Junsu is pressing too hard onto his knuckles and it hurts. He retracts his hand with a grimace.
“Shit,” Junsu’s eyes widen as he sees the red and purple bruises on his hand. Changmin curls and unfurls his palm, watching the colours on his knuckles fade and return in painful fascination. “I’m so sorry,” Junsu flails, “I didn’t realize.” Of course he wouldn’t. Junsu is naïve, hopeless, a complete idiot who cannot focus on anything but his chosen task, and of course he wouldn’t think to look before he leaped. Junsu wants Changmin to stop being distant, but he doesn’t think to ask why he is acting like this to begin with.
Changmin glares, and Junsu falters.
“I’m a shit hyung, aren’t I?” his voice sounds small, rejected, and Changmin nods in blunt agreement. Junsu sighs. “I’m sorry,” he repeats as he stands. “I’m just going to go repent in a trash can or something.”
There is a haze in Changmin’s mind from the fever, wrapped around his intellect, holding it down so that he thinks in colours and sounds and a blur of feelings. Instead of letting him go and moving on, he reaches out and wraps his fingers around Junsu’s wrists, stopping him in his tracks. “Wait.”
Junsu smiles hopefully.
“How about you repent in a restaurant instead?” He feels like a complete idiot, because this may just be the lamest way of asking anyone out, but Junsu is clearly the dumber of the two because he cocks his head to a side looking completely befuddled.
“While eating,” he elaborates.
“With me.” And it still doesn’t click.
“Like on a date,” he explains slowly, and Junsu’s jaw falls to the floor in response. Changmin can’t decide whether it’s shock or disgust or a mixture of the two, and for the few seconds of silence that follow, fear digs its claws into his heart, making it skip several beats and the discomfort crawls its way up his throat and surrounds his cheeks with a heated flush.
And then Junsu beams.
“So all the PMS-ing you were doing,” he says slowly, as if he is trying to make sense of the entire planet by himself, “that was your mating dance?”
Changmin groans and buries himself under the covers.
“How long?” Junsu asks. He has crawled into the bed beside him, sharing his pillow and facing him so that for once he almost seems as tall as him. Their fingers are linked in between their chests. Junsu’s hands are small in Changmin’s and though they make fun of them all the time, they’re also amazingly warm and soft and feel perfectly right just the way they are. He runs his thumb over a vein and Changmin shivers from the feeling. He is burning up, and he cannot decide if it is because of the fever or Junsu.
“A couple of years,” Changmin confesses, and he wants to shy away when Junsu’s hand rises to caress his cheek in wonder.
“You’re an idiot,” he says. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” He yanks at his ear.
Changmin can easily hurt him in retaliation, but the admonishment is full of affection. Junsu is the cute one, the one who acts the least like a hyung around him. Junsu is the one whose attention he craves the most, and so when he gets it, even if he is chastising him, Changmin revels in it instead. “You’re the idiot,” he mumbles into the pillow. “You never picked up on any of my hints.”
“Hints my ass,” he bites back, and Changmin swallows down his laughter. It was Junsu’s stupid ass sticking up in the lounge that started all of this to begin with. “You were just afraid, weren’t you?”
No, I was not, he wants to say. I wasn’t thinking about you at all. But he really was, and instead of admitting it he smacks Junsu’s mouth and smiles when he feels a finger nipped between his teeth.
Junsu’s hands are running through his hair, caressing softly, trying to lull him back to sleep. This brand of attention is rare and inexplicably intimate coming from Junsu, and Changmin can’t possibly go back to sleep when he’s on the receiving end. He doesn’t have the words to say how he feels right now, and even if he did they’d be lost somewhere between the path from his heart and his throat. Junsu kisses his forehead and his heartbeat skyrockets.
“You’ll get sick,” Changmin warns him, but his hand rests possessively on Junsu’s hip, and he doesn’t move their tangled legs.
“Lovesick,” Junsu jokes, and even though Changmin snorts, he hasn’t felt this elated since their debut stage.
His heart thrums happily beneath his ribcage.
The next time Changmin wakes, he feels completely refreshed. The fever is gone, and the first thing he notices is the darkness surrounding the room and the fact that Junsu is no longer in his bed.
His hair is still wet from the shower when Changmin finds him singing their latest single under his breath as he brews some tea in the kitchen.
“Hey,” Changmin says, leaning against the doorframe, feeling suddenly wary. He isn’t sure how to act. He feels a familiar sort of self-consciousness draping over his shoulders and he remembers back when Junsu told him that the best way to woo the fans was to be himself.
“Hey,” Junsu replies with a grin as he reaches for the sugar. It’s ridiculous how easy it is for him to fall into this new relationship when Changmin is scared out of his mind, but then again, everything comes easily to Junsu. “Feeling better?”
He nods, relieved that it wasn’t all a dream as he wraps his arms around his middle. Mine, he thinks, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.
As Junsu cheerfully returns the embrace, he mumbles something about feeling guilty for taking advantage of the precious maknae, and it sounds utterly ridiculous, because this was the very reason why Yunho had warned Changmin to stay away from Junsu. When he tells him that, Junsu huffs and complains about how it has been years since they’ve been working together and still none of them ever bother asking him what he thinks.
Changmin tightens his grip on his hip and pulls him close enough that he can practically taste it when Junsu sighs, happy.
They stay that way for what feels like eons, and when the sun finally rises it illuminates a silent blush on his neck. Changmin reaches up to touch it, and he feels the pulse racing underneath his skin. Junsu is just as nervous as him, and as his mind replays the past few years he can’t believe that this is actually happening.
His eyes flutter close as their lips touch, and when they part, breathless, he knows that he will never be sated.
Junsu smiles, and the world falls into place around them.