#34 [2PM, Chansung/Junho]
Fandom: 2pm
Title: be your love
Rating: pg-13
Pairing(s)/Focus: Chansung/junho
Length: 6,694 words
Summary: Everytime Junho falls asleep he wakes up to a reality where he loves Chansung and Chansung loves him back, they live together happily in their house and none of them had ever joined JYPE. He wakes up again and he's back as 2pm's member Junho, he still loves Chansung, but things are a lot more complicated here.
Warnings: none
Notes: Thankyou morago for all the wonderful fics. I am a fan of your writing for a while now , i hope this wont disappoint too much and will still be somehow enjoyable to read ;;;;;; Massive love and gratitude for my beta, the alpha of alphas for bearing with me and for always being there <3 .For the ones who held my hand throughout everything, you know who you are and you are immensely loved.
Remixee author: morago
Title of work you remixed: Leaving Normal
Link to work you remixed: http://morago.livejournal.com/10104.html
“Everyone come on!” Jincheol beckons with his hand, urging them to move faster.
It’s 7pm in Tokyo, there’s a magazine photoshoot that they’re supposed to be at twenty minutes ago and Junho would’ve shared Jincheol’s concern (or at least join the unanimous teasing on Chansung for getting lost at the airport) had his phone not vibrated and showed a text message from his mother.
Junho narrows his eyes, tapping his phone to a lock and shoving it deep into his pocket. He fastens his walk and beelines Taecyeon, who zombies his way towards their van. Nichkhun is right beside him and he can hear Wooyoung’s obnoxious laugh coming from somewhere behind along with Chansung's embarrassed one.
It vibrates again when he’s done buckling his seatbelt (a panda plushie flies right pass him to land on Taecyeon’s head and Junsu cries something like a half amused apology). It vibrates persistently this time and Junho persistently ignores it. He doesn’t have to open it.
Junho knows what it’s about already.
It usually starts with, she’s nice, or smart, or polite, or has this sense of humor that his mother likes instantly (his mother instantly liked quite a few by now, Junho noted). Then comes the age, the youngest she ever said to him was 20, the oldest being 23. Not too young or too old for you, dear, just perfect, his mum said in that pitch Junho recognizes whenever she needs him to do some errand for her. The credentials come last, their education, their family lineage (along with who their families are in Korea, what do they own and her father is on the foreign state office, isn’t that wonderful? He can help if you’re going to debut abroad).
It gets tiring after some point. Junho knows he hardly has interest in any of them, but no one else needs to know that.
Especially not his mum, no-no, not mum.
“Yaah, Chansung-ah. Don’t eat me,” Wooyoung whines and Junho flicks his glance up the rearview to find Chansung sinking his teeth on Wooyoung’s shoulder. The latter haphazardly smacks the maknae’s head to stop him but it’s only when Nichkhun raises his voice that Chansung finally lets Wooyoung go, turning his grinning face forward and catching Junho’s stare.
“Babo.” Junho mouths at him, nose scrunching up in distaste and Chansung (being the maknae that he is) replies with a random “Junho-yaa saranghaeee~”, done with the usual hand over head gestures.
Junho rolls his eyes and plugs in his ear buds, looking out the window to further ignore Chansung’s antics, pretending he doesn’t have a smile tugging the corner of his lips.
The music is soft and it lulls him to sleep right away.
~
When Junho wakes up it is fairly morning and he’s blinking to a ceiling he has grown accustomed to. He shifts, feeling the sheets soft against his skin, the spot next to him warm, slept in yet empty. Junho frowns.
Junho recognizes the curtains (they bought it together sometime last summer) the row of pictures in the wall. Their row of pictures in their bedroom wall; laughing, smiling, kissing, and there’s one where Chansung is licking his cheek and Junho knows he’s here. (He freaked out when he saw the pictures the first time this happened, but then the realization of Chansung sleeping on top him with absolutely nothing on just made everything else seem less noticeably freak- out worthy.)
There’s toast and bacon and tea with honey on the nightstand, and a note, “Sorry for not waking you up, you’re so cute whem you’re sleeping” scribbled in messy writings, misspellings Junho’s familiar with. He lets out half a smile and reaches for the toasts, holding one between his teeth as he staggers to the bathroom for a shower.
Junho finds hickeys, of course, on his neck and near his collarbones as he dries himself in front of the mirror; there’s a faint bruise on his left hip where fingers dug too deep and more love bites on his inner thighs. Junho chuckles, feeling amusement and embarrassment mixed into one, but also safe, secure, and thoroughly loved.
He gets dressed and finishes breakfast, going through their mails as he sits on the couch and turns the tv on. Hand’s up blares across their living room and Junho’s head swivels to the screen because this is always, always a fascinating thing to watch.
It’s the same mv, 2pm in that zouk club in Singapore, the same concept, the same crowd, the same outfit. He sees Nichkhun rapping his lines with some random girls dancing in the background, his eyes playful with a hint of mischief, just the way the director asked them to be. He sees Wooyoung jumping hyperactively with that silly look on his face, and then there’s Taec, his spiky hedgehog hair is still as hilarious as Junho first saw it, and there’s even Namyoung in that horse mask.
But instead of Chansung singing the chorus he sees another guy, pretty like Nichkhun - pretty with washboard abs that peeks slightly when he lifts his shirt enough to tease, and instead of Junsu, there’s Jokwon dancing on the table, gyrating his hips and swinging his finger like there’s no tomorrow. There’s Doojoon, looking flashy and dapper in one of the scenes, and there’s Jay, rapping his lines like a boss with huge shades and blings around his neck, and Junho? There’s no Junho, there's no Chansung either.
Because here, 2pm is still 7, Jay is still their leader because he never left and neither Junho nor Chansung are a part of the group. Never been a part of it. Not here.
Here, Lee Junho is not a singer-dancer-idol. There’s no million dollar payroll in his bank account, no fancy accessories, no expensive branded shirts and his finest shoes don't even go over a thousand dollar mark.
He still feels strange about it. A part of him demands recognition for those grueling days as a trainee, for days with 2-3 hours of sleep between one schedule to the other, for days spent in hospitals, days of injuries, surgeries. It seems unfair to disregard them and act like those days never existed.
Junho hears the door opening, footsteps approaching, and Chansung shows up in a bit of a hurry.
"Hey, you’re up. I forgot my keys.” He shakes his head goofily as he toes his shoe off and Junho smiles because this, this is the reason he doesn’t want to wake up sometimes; wants to be here all the time. It's selfish and Junho's very aware of that but Chansung has this grin than only he can do that makes Junho feels all too warm inside to even give a care.
"Was already standing in front of the studio when I remembered I didn't have the keys with me." He opens one of the shelves in his study table and rummages through it for a while. "Hah. There you are," he snorts when he finds it.
Chansung--, his Chansung is strikingly similar to the real Chansung, the 2pm member Chansung. He still wears his hair the same way, cropped short with slightly messy bangs. He has the same smile, the same crinkles on the corner of his eyes when he laughs. His arms are just as long with fingers just as thick, and when he moves there’s that same easiness, that effortless warmth and earnestness that makes people want to trust him with their life. (Or in Junho’s case, his heart.)
"That's what you get for not waking me up you know, I could've had reminded you." Junho tilts his head aside.
“But you look so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” Chansung takes the keys to his pocket.
Junho stays silent, scuffing his house slippers into the carpet, and gives a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. He’s not upset, not really, but pretending to sulk is a game he enjoys too much now, knowing Chansung will try to cheer him up in every possible way. He’s bad, he knows that. He’s selfish and bad. Sue him.
“Omoo.. is Juneo angry?” Chansung smiles, sun kissed cheeks and eyes bright with something that makes Junho holds his breath and doesn't, doesn't start thinking about silly things like how perfect this is, how perfect they are, how easy it is to just melt into Chansung's hug when his hand reaches for him, and most certainly not about what he feels for this man, how the words are teetering on the edge of his tongue, threatening to slip out from his lips.
He's never said it. Not even here. He knows what he feels, knows how he feels, but to say it aloud, to give it an actual name - Junho’s not ready for that.
Not ready even here.
Thankfully Chansung's mouth is keeping his tongue and lips busy, and Junho only breaks the kiss when he feels Chansung’s fingers sliding down from his waist to round his butt, squeezing not so lightly through his sweatpants while pushing him back to the couch.
“Thought you had morning class?” Junho pants between kisses, all other thoughts gone out the window, because Chansung is kissing him slow and deep and amazing, like he was born to do this, born to make Junho’s heart do little summersault jumps, born to brush his thumb gently over Junho’s nape while kissing him deeper.
When Chansung leaves his mouth, Junho misses it already. He wants to chase it back where it belongs, between his own, pressed against his cheek, hot and slick on his skin, anywhere as long as it’s somewhere on him. Chansung brushes his nose along Junho’s jawline and Junho winds his arm around Chansung’s neck when he’s hoisted up and laid down carefully on the couch.
“I do.” Chansung buries his face into Junho’s neck, fingers already rucking his shirt up.
“You’re gonna be late.” He tightens his arm around Chansung, tilting his head aside to give more skin and catches a glimpse of the tv, now playing one of 2AM’s ballads. There’s Junsu singing in perfect harmonization with Seulong, Jinwoon and Changmin.
“Technically I already got there, so let’s just let them wait for a while." Junho winces when Chansung nips that spot just under his ear.
“How long is “a while”?” Junho asks again, fingers smoothing over Chansung’s shoulder and Chansung is warm, flesh and bones and real under his fingertips.
“A quickie long?” comes Chansung’s answer.
Junho barks out a laugh, closing his eyes as he feels Chansung’s fingers hooking around the band of his sweatpants to tug them down.
~
“Junho? Junho, we’re here.” Nichkhun shakes his shoulder and Junho is awake for the second time, blinking as he takes on his surroundings.
It’s dark and cold and slightly drizzling when Nichkhun drags him out of the van and Junho is confused, a little , because no matter how many times this happens it still takes a little adjusting. Especially when the arms around his back are not Chansung’s anymore, they're Nichkhun’s, ushering him to the door by Jincheol’s request.
Junho goes into a series of autopilot bows and greetings like the rest of them as soon as they enter the building, Nichkhun still keeping him steady. He’s grateful for Nichkhun’s patience, and lets the Thai peg his slight disorientation to lack of sleep, giving him a reassuring, “I’m okay,” when Nichkhun asks if he’s feeling well.
Chansung is way over there, still latching onto Wooyoung’s side, his long, lanky arms around Wooyoung’s back, fingers gripping Wooyoung’s shoulder as he tries to get a good bite of Wooyoung’s beanie. Junho pretends his stomach doesn’t twist the way it does because he can still feel the way those teeth nip at his skin, thick fingers gripping his butt tightly.
When the stylist noonas dress him up for the photoshoot, Junho looks at his reflection in the mirror and stares for a good 10 minutes, eyes searching for red-purple patches that became the highlight of the too pale skin of his neck, the bruises left by Chansung’s fingertips on his hip, the love bites on his inner thighs (with all the Chansung Chansung Chansung he panted out echoing faintly in his head) .There are none. Of course.
And Junho feels cheated by the world.
~
Her name is Jung Sunhee, 22, she’s warm and bubbly, polite with fine manners. She’s a medical intern, she can speak four languages and her English has this thick British accent that reminds Junho of Hermione.
Her father is a successful businessman, her mother is his mother’s childhood friend and Sunny, as Junho was told to call her, is everything his mother likes. In a way, she represents every aspect of the ideal woman Junho would ever so fluently answer in interviews. (Ever so fluently lie in every interview.)
They have a nice dinner and Junho treats her kind, keeping the conversation going and genuinely laughs at her well prepared jokes. It’s more than a cold common courtesy (his mother has raised him right) and Junho admits it is rather fun, but still, it takes all of his effort to keep a certain someone from crowding his thoughts. So he pushes it to the utmost corner of his mind, like he isn’t wishing it's him instead of her sitting and eating and talking about a possible future for the both of them.
When he gets back to their dorm, it’s Chansung who opens the door for him.
“So how did it go this time? Is she nice? Do you like her? ” Chansung asks with a full mouth, munching through the burger in his hand. He’s in a loose grey tee, that and simple black shorts, both of which he bought on their trip to Busan years ago. His hair is messy but it looks soft and fluffy enough for Junho to want to run his fingers through it, try counting each strand and multiply them with the number of days he’s been pinning, and scream the end result to Chansung’s face.
“Stop grinning, you’re ugly when you do that,” he says instead, curtly, walking past Chansung before he does anything stupid, like brushing his thumb across Chansung’s cheek while pressing their lips together, or worse, confessing this overwhelming warmth in his chest everytime he sees him. Because he can’t do that, not allowed to do that.
Because his mother has raised him right.
And love should only happen between a man and a woman.
Junho doesn’t change his clothes, doesn’t even go to the bathroom to wash his face. He just kicks his shoes and crawls into bed, suddenly feeling tired and so, so old.
~
Junho reads about lucid dreams.
A dream where he knows he’s dreaming, a dream where everything is so vivid, so real and he has somewhat control over the things happening there if he wants it hard enough.
Junho reads about parallel universes, bubble universe, baby universes, alternate realities, higher dimensions, extra dimensions - he reads and reads and reads and reads and reads. (And skillfully clicks on the online shopping tab whenever Wooyoung snoops over his shoulder with a “what chu doooing?" with a cup of smoothie in his hands.)
And all Junho ends up with is more questions than answers.
If these are lucid dreams, then did he create this reality inside his head? A reality where he can show Chansung how he truly feels, a reality where Chansung mirrors his feelings. At a price. Neither of them are in 2pm, neither of them are idols. Chansung is a martial art teacher with classes to teach and tournaments to attend and Junho goes from one audition to another, breathing life into the perfect role, one musical after the other.
Does being with Chansung really outweight everything, even his established place under the spotlight as an idol? His subconscious seems to think so or else he wouldn’t be having these dreams. Or maybe this isn’t a dream? Maybe it’s some kind of dimensional distortion? A fluke in the alternate reality realm that made their worlds collide and interlace into one? Maybe it’s some sort of messed up parallel universe resulting from a fucking black hole throwing a fucking fit at the fucking galaxy and with his luck he just kind of got trapped in between the whole mess.
Jesus. Junho runs his hand down his face. He’s not made for this, not made to question the universe. That’s where Nichkhun, Taecyeon or even Chansung fits in. Him? Quantum physics or in-depth psychological analysis stuff isn’t his thing. He skipped physics and spent his time practicing dance moves or reciting his lines for the theater club back when he was still a highschooler. He’s made to perform, be it singing or acting.
For what it’s worth, Junho thinks he deserves a daesang for his act feigning indifference every time he’s with Chansung. The 2pm member Chansung. He’ll go about his day, put up a front and treat Chansung the way he treats his other members, like a friend, a family. He’s too good at it, too burdened with too many things that he could never find it in himself to man up and tell the real Chansung about. Fuck, he can’t even tell his Chansung how he feels and he's just a few steps away, humming quietly while trying to cook them dinner in the warmth and comfort of their own home here.
So there it is, this is how it always ends up, him suppressing his feelings, suppressing everything so far down that his subconscious has had enough, took over and created a reality where they are already so conveniently together. That is if his subconscious really was responsible for all of this . The thing is Junho isn’t sure how or why this keeps happening. He isn’t sure of anything anymore. Well almost. There is one thing he’s very, very sure of.
“You do know I love you, don’t you?” he says barely above a whisper, staring at the broad expanse of Chansung’s shoulders in their small kitchen. “Because I do. So, so much.”
It scares him, this confession. Somehow hearing his own voice saying those words feels like it’s the real deal now. He can’t take it back; he can’t turn his back, can’t hide away in snappy comments or distracts himself in Chansung’s touch. It feels like he opened up a door to something new, the confession more to himself than to Chansung and the weight of everything in it makes his voice crack. He’s not crying, not planning to cry, but there are tears sliding from the corners of his eyes anyway. He feels helpless and he’s not supposed to feel helpless but Junho doesn’t really know how to stop it. He grips the counter's surface a tad harder, shutting his eyes, and concentrates on breathing. (And trying not to choke on his own tears.)
Sunny’s smile is the first thing he sees at the back of his eyes, pretty in a white bridal dress, a beautiful hand bouquet on her white gloved hands, and Junho’s stomach churns because he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want her.
He knows what he wants, he knows who he wants.
“Hey, hey, of course I know that.” Suddenly Junho is surrounded by Chansung’s warmth. There's an arm around his back like they knew he could crumble any moment now, a hand running slow and gentle in his hair. “And I love you, lots and lots if you haven’t noticed." He chuckles, and it's warm and everything Chansung is and Junho just wants to drown in his arms. "Juneo, what’s wrong?” Chansung hushes, lips brushing over his hair, arms cradling him closer when Junho doesn't say a word.
Everything. Junho thinks.
“Nothing.” He says.
Chansung is everything Junho wants and he’s everything Junho’s not allowed to have. (But no one else needs to know that.)
~
Junho wakes up when Wooyoung nudges his elbow.
“ Seatbelt.” He says, lips thin in apparent nervousness. “ Air turbulence" he continues at the same time the plane goes into a little dive and Junho doesn't need to be told twice before buckling his seatbelt on.
They’re flying to Thailand for a cf making and Junho thinks the sun there might do him some good, putting some distance between him and the ever present texts from his mum. It’s not that he hates his mum for doing it, he knows her reasons are nothing but kind, if anything, he can only hate himself for going along with it. For not telling her how he really feels, for not telling her who he really is. Sometimes he thinks that she knows already, that she's only waiting for him to say the word and these meet ups she keeps planning for him are her way to actually make things clearer for him. Because she's mum, and Junho honestly feels that she knows him more than he think she does. So maybe she only wants him to start owning his feelings. Maybe. Junho doesn't even want to think about other possible reasons.
“If we were to die, d'you think you'd have any regrets?” Junho asks, fingers gripping the armrest tight but eyes shifting almost on cue to where Chansung sits. (Across the aisle, two seats in front of him.) And no, it doesn't faze him anymore that he seems to always know where Chansung is around him because you don't tell a flower where the sun is, it just knows; and you don't tell Junho where Chansung is, and if that makes him a flower then so be it because dammit Chansung has been his sun for far too long.
"I'd regret dying, now shut up, don't get me thinking stuff like that." Wooyoung curses under his breath and Junho almost finds it funny how scared Wooyoung is if he weren’t so terrified himself.
“No really, what’s the one thing you’d wished you’d done? The one thing you’d wished you’d told someone?”
Wooyoung continues to ignores him and Junho takes that as the end of it.
Maybe mum would understand, Junho thinks as the ride gets bumpier. After all, she’s doing everything because she wants him to be happy, so maybe she might actually be okay if he tries to talk to her. Maybe somehow, someway, it’ll work out. Still, it’s a far stretch and Junho’s aware he’s using too many maybes.
Junho leans back into his seat, still got his seatbelt on, but suspects this sickening feeling has nothing to do with the bumpy ride they're experiencing.
When Wooyoung catches him staring at Chansung a while later ,( the warning lights turned off and fights attendants are in the aisles again, calming passengers and offering refreshments with blinding smiles) Junho blurts a simple “ She’s pretty.” She, being the stewardess bending over beside Chansung, sweet and young with full breasts and legs that goes on forever, she has her delicate hand on Chansung’s shoulder and Junho takes comfort in the fact that Chansung is too engrossed with whatever he’s discussing with Nichkhun that he just gives her a polite nod to let her know he’s okay.
Wooyoung doesn't say anything, only pushes the shades he's wearing slightly down and stares him back with an all too knowing gaze for Junho's comfort. Something is building, though, in those few seconds of silence, until Junho finally blurts out, "What?"
"What what?" Wooyoung asks back.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" Wooyoung blinks, his face far from being oblivious.
"Like you dont believe me," says Junho.
"Why would I not believe you?"
"I dont know why, that's why I'm asking you," says Junho again, annoyance pricking his skin.
The thing is, Junho has come to know Wooyoung for years now and he knows when Wooyoung isnt being his obnoxious self, he's being observant, sitting quietly and taking mental notes of everything, of everyone. He's the one who found out Khun was dating Tiffany some time ago ( by phone, we just text each other a lot, Khun admitted ) and that thought actually scares him now. It's been years and he's been careful and it's not like he's ashamed of himself or what he's feeling, because he's not. But Junho also knows that this could spiral down to something ugly and people could get hurt, people he cares for , people that matters. He can’t risk that.
"Never mind, wake me up when we get there." He back paddles and closes his eyes, silently wondering if a reality where Wooyoung falls head over heels for Nichkhun could exist just so he’d know how it feels. That would be something.
~
“What if you wake up in a different reality one day and find that you don’t love me?”
He's back in their kitchen again.
"What?" Chansung blinks.
“No. You do love me, but differently?" Junho continues." Like you love me as a brother? A friend? And that you don’t know that you’ve loved me here?” Junho presses the round of his palms against his eyes, sniffling because the feeling that has dampened while he’s in the real world are coming back in rushing waves, bringing more emotions one after the other.
“I think I would’ve loved you the same in any reality.” Chansung brings his hands down gently. His answer is sure and his eyes are soft.
“Yeah, but what if you don’t know it yet?” Junho fingers clutch at the front of Chansung’s shirt unknowingly, voice coming close to a whine and he hates that, hates feeling clingy and vulnerable.
Chansung frowns in that beautiful way he does before making one of his long essays on twitter, reminding Junho again on how similar his Chansung is to the other Chansung. The 2pm member Chansung.
“Will there be a you there? In this, other reality~” Chansung asks thoughtfully.
“Yes.” Junho answers in a half questioning tone, not really sure where Chansung is leading him.
"Then you should find me there and let me know that I do love you, and you love me, and we love each other very much and then everyone is happy.” Chansung smiles, leaning forward to place a soft peck on Junho’s forehead, his thumb brushing Junho’s cheek gently.
“I can’t do that.” He wished things were that simple, but they're not. "What would I say? How would I start?” he mumbles, knowing that these are the least of his worries.
“Just say, Chansung I think we need to talk and then tell me everything. It'll be all right, I promise."
Chansung is back working on their dinner, stirring something in a pot that smells surprisingly wonderful while Junho is helping him with the plates. He goes telling Junho about his day, about how his students are progressing, even shares a joke he heard earlier and Junho smiles because this is nice. This life he has here with Chansung, it's far from the bright lights and ear deafening screams of fans calling his name. It's quiet, it's private, the only light shining is their warm eco-friendly ones, the only voice calling him is Chansung's. It's a small thing really, but for Junho it is enough.
~
When Wooyoung nudges to wake him up again, Junho feels more at ease than ever. He knows what he wants, knows well enough how much he wants it. He plans to explain everything to his mother, plans to somehow confess to Chansung, the real Chansung.
Their schedule is tiring, the text messages from his mother still cram his notification page, but this time Junho picks up his phone and tells her no more. (I need time to think, I'll tell you when I'm ready, I have to go now, bye I love you, all in a single breath.) This will have to do for now, he'll tell her everything soon.
Junho slides his phone screen to a lock and jogs back to his spot and continues their dance practice. He sees his own reflection in the large mirror wall and sees hope. (He sees Chansung too, sweating and grinning and the same word echoes in his mind, soon.)
~
Soon comes to him too fast and awfully abrupt when Junho finds himself standing face to face with his mother. He's being the normal Junho, not the idol-Junho. The normal, openly gay Junho with an hour to spare before his audition so that he decides to take the scenic route, getting off the subway at Cheongdam station and head on his heels only to meet her walking out from one of the many fashion boutiques there.
The first thing Junho notices is that she looks paler, like she has gone without sleep for far too many nights. She's also thinner than Junho ever remembers seeing her. Not that he ever saw her here, in this reality. As a matter of fact, Junho doesn't remember having to meet any of his family members here, Chansung never talked about them and he never asked why. But the look on his mother's face upon seeing him gives Junho a rough idea about his reasons.
It's not anger like Junho had imagined. It's not repulsion either, her eyes don't stare him down in abhorrence or disgust. It's not hate. (It would be easier if it was.)
No, it's this overwhelming sadness, like she just wants to reach out for him but somehow she can't, bound by the same shackles Junho has wore for years. He can almost see the battle inside her as she clutches her purse tighter, too skinny fingers gripping the expensive leather like her dear life depends on it. It's this desperation, he can see that it's tearing her apart but his mother has always been determined, and stubborn (and she passed those qualities to him, thank you very much ) but it kills him to just stand there and see her this way, so Junho takes a step forward.
"Mum." He calls, convinced that she can hear him, he can see it on her face as she blinks herself together again.
There's a good distance between them, people walking by in a rush with places to go and things to do and yet there she stands, frozen in her spot.
"Mum, it's me." Junho tries to smile as he approaches her. He wants to hold her, wants to tell her that everything is all right, that he's all right, that the world did not come to an end just because he's in love with another man. And that's when he sees them, bustling out from the same boutique with wide smiles and perfect permed hair, one of them used to be his Sunday school teacher and Junho gives a polite bow when they see him too.
They smile to him, although awkwardly, and it's almost like everyone is holding their breath to see what his mother will do next.
Nothing.
His mother does nothing.
She does nothing and she says nothing and when Junho looks into her eyes he sees nothing. It's as if she just sees through him, like he wasn't even there, like he's just another stranger to her.
She leaves without saying a word, and Junho watches her go with her friends before turning around to where he's supposed to be heading. He has his script clutched tight in his fisted palm but the thought of audition itself is already long gone. (And maybe the world does comes to an end for the both of them, if only a little.)
It's okay. Junho tells himself, placing one foot upon another on the sidewalk. It's okay, his breath picking up. It's not like he never saw this coming, because he did. He just refused to acknowledge it. He should, though; he should be ready for this if he's thinking of telling his real mother in the real world what he's thinking to tell her. Which he is, of course, thinking and planning and is going to tell her, but that thought will have to wait because right now he's stumbling on his own feet and thinks he grazed his palms against the coarse pavement as he falls, his breath is hitching and he can't breathe properly and it's suddenly blurry everywhere he sees so he must be crying. It's stupid and pathetic and Junho doesn't want to be stupid and pathetic so he furiously wipes his tears , gets up on his feet, and drags himself forward, picking up speed as he goes and starts running to god knows where because it feels like the world is closing in on him and he can't, for the love of god, deal with it right now.
~
The house is quiet when he gets home and Junho distractedly wonders whether Chansung has forgotten that his class is canceled today. He tosses his keys onto the cabinet and goes directly to wash his face, frowning at his swollen eyes. He chugs down a glass of water, sits on the couch and turns the tv on.
An episode of Khun and Gain in We Got Married greets him on the screen and Junho pauses for a while, still finding it fascinating on how similar this Khun is with the real Khun. On how similar this reality is to the real one but at the same time, it's different.
It's different because Chansung loves him here, different because he's so much braver here. All the things that he could only imagine doing in the real world, he is doing it here. He's winning Chansung's love here, he's diving head first in acting without the help of his management here, and most of all, he came out to his family here. When was that anyway? How did other Junho do it? And where does other Junho go when he, the real Junho, starts appearing here. What was his mother's response when he told her that he's not interested in girls?
Junho stares blankly at the tv screen, not really watching the show as his thoughts are going miles per seconds. He knows what his mother's response was, that part is clear. He wonders if his real mother would have the same reaction, and his sister, will she look at him differently when she knows this side of him that he kept so well hidden?
Junho hears the front door being unlocked and out of the corner of his eyes sees Chansung entering the living room. "Hey." Chansung greets. He hears some rustling and spoon clinking later but cant be bothered to pay more attention.
He knows Chansung is trying to make a conversation with him, but Junho just feels so tired, so spent, so broken that it's not until Chansung comes and sits beside him, placing a mug of tea on the armrest of the couch he's sitting and taking his hands between his own , asking him if he's all right. Chansung's voice is unsure but warm, always so warm, that Junho finally caves and tells him what happened.
There's something different about his Chansung today although Junho cant actually find anything out of the ordinary. But he's just as gentle and he's just as kind when he pulls Junho into a hug. They kiss, soft and deep, their mouths sliding together just right and Junho recognizes the familiar pull of Chansung's lips when he deepens the kiss. Junho holds Chansung closer and breathes out, "Chansung, Chansung.."and lets himself falls a little more in love with him.
They make love, eventually, and as Junho comes in soft gasps there's this small small voice at the back of his head telling him to hold on . Hold on to the bruises, the marks Chansung's made on him, the love bites , knowing that although they will disappear when he's back as 2pm's Junho,
his love for Chansung will not.
~
It's easy to glide through the days when there's always something to do and people to meet, and their schedule has been unforgivably packed lately. But that doesn't mean that Junho has given up thinking about it.
Sometimes Junho thinks he sees something in the way Chansung is looking back at him, sometimes it almost feels like his Chansung and real Chansung are the same person, and sometimes Junho thinks that he's just driving himself insane with all his thinking.
Still, Junho makes a decision.
He's not going to pretend he's not afraid or that he has found an epiphany because he is very much terrified and what he knows now he has known it for a long time already. He doesn't know though, of what would he say to his mother, how will he confront her, but he knows that he will say it, knows now that he's strong enough to say it. He understands he might hurt them and he's truly sorry but he also hopes that they can understand him.
And it takes him a while but he's walking up to Chansung one day, the real Chansung in the real world. Junho approaches him right after one of their tour concerts, before any after party begins because he needs to be awake and Chansung needs to be--,well, not sloshed. He needs a sober, fully functional Chansung for this and he needs that buzz of adrenaline in his bloodstream to muster enough courage, taking a deep breath and finally says,
"Chansung I think we need to talk."
Title: be your love
Rating: pg-13
Pairing(s)/Focus: Chansung/junho
Length: 6,694 words
Summary: Everytime Junho falls asleep he wakes up to a reality where he loves Chansung and Chansung loves him back, they live together happily in their house and none of them had ever joined JYPE. He wakes up again and he's back as 2pm's member Junho, he still loves Chansung, but things are a lot more complicated here.
Warnings: none
Notes: Thankyou morago for all the wonderful fics. I am a fan of your writing for a while now , i hope this wont disappoint too much and will still be somehow enjoyable to read ;;;;;; Massive love and gratitude for my beta, the alpha of alphas for bearing with me and for always being there <3 .For the ones who held my hand throughout everything, you know who you are and you are immensely loved.
Remixee author: morago
Title of work you remixed: Leaving Normal
Link to work you remixed: http://morago.livejournal.com/10104.html
“Everyone come on!” Jincheol beckons with his hand, urging them to move faster.
It’s 7pm in Tokyo, there’s a magazine photoshoot that they’re supposed to be at twenty minutes ago and Junho would’ve shared Jincheol’s concern (or at least join the unanimous teasing on Chansung for getting lost at the airport) had his phone not vibrated and showed a text message from his mother.
Junho narrows his eyes, tapping his phone to a lock and shoving it deep into his pocket. He fastens his walk and beelines Taecyeon, who zombies his way towards their van. Nichkhun is right beside him and he can hear Wooyoung’s obnoxious laugh coming from somewhere behind along with Chansung's embarrassed one.
It vibrates again when he’s done buckling his seatbelt (a panda plushie flies right pass him to land on Taecyeon’s head and Junsu cries something like a half amused apology). It vibrates persistently this time and Junho persistently ignores it. He doesn’t have to open it.
Junho knows what it’s about already.
It usually starts with, she’s nice, or smart, or polite, or has this sense of humor that his mother likes instantly (his mother instantly liked quite a few by now, Junho noted). Then comes the age, the youngest she ever said to him was 20, the oldest being 23. Not too young or too old for you, dear, just perfect, his mum said in that pitch Junho recognizes whenever she needs him to do some errand for her. The credentials come last, their education, their family lineage (along with who their families are in Korea, what do they own and her father is on the foreign state office, isn’t that wonderful? He can help if you’re going to debut abroad).
It gets tiring after some point. Junho knows he hardly has interest in any of them, but no one else needs to know that.
Especially not his mum, no-no, not mum.
“Yaah, Chansung-ah. Don’t eat me,” Wooyoung whines and Junho flicks his glance up the rearview to find Chansung sinking his teeth on Wooyoung’s shoulder. The latter haphazardly smacks the maknae’s head to stop him but it’s only when Nichkhun raises his voice that Chansung finally lets Wooyoung go, turning his grinning face forward and catching Junho’s stare.
“Babo.” Junho mouths at him, nose scrunching up in distaste and Chansung (being the maknae that he is) replies with a random “Junho-yaa saranghaeee~”, done with the usual hand over head gestures.
Junho rolls his eyes and plugs in his ear buds, looking out the window to further ignore Chansung’s antics, pretending he doesn’t have a smile tugging the corner of his lips.
The music is soft and it lulls him to sleep right away.
~
When Junho wakes up it is fairly morning and he’s blinking to a ceiling he has grown accustomed to. He shifts, feeling the sheets soft against his skin, the spot next to him warm, slept in yet empty. Junho frowns.
Junho recognizes the curtains (they bought it together sometime last summer) the row of pictures in the wall. Their row of pictures in their bedroom wall; laughing, smiling, kissing, and there’s one where Chansung is licking his cheek and Junho knows he’s here. (He freaked out when he saw the pictures the first time this happened, but then the realization of Chansung sleeping on top him with absolutely nothing on just made everything else seem less noticeably freak- out worthy.)
There’s toast and bacon and tea with honey on the nightstand, and a note, “Sorry for not waking you up, you’re so cute whem you’re sleeping” scribbled in messy writings, misspellings Junho’s familiar with. He lets out half a smile and reaches for the toasts, holding one between his teeth as he staggers to the bathroom for a shower.
Junho finds hickeys, of course, on his neck and near his collarbones as he dries himself in front of the mirror; there’s a faint bruise on his left hip where fingers dug too deep and more love bites on his inner thighs. Junho chuckles, feeling amusement and embarrassment mixed into one, but also safe, secure, and thoroughly loved.
He gets dressed and finishes breakfast, going through their mails as he sits on the couch and turns the tv on. Hand’s up blares across their living room and Junho’s head swivels to the screen because this is always, always a fascinating thing to watch.
It’s the same mv, 2pm in that zouk club in Singapore, the same concept, the same crowd, the same outfit. He sees Nichkhun rapping his lines with some random girls dancing in the background, his eyes playful with a hint of mischief, just the way the director asked them to be. He sees Wooyoung jumping hyperactively with that silly look on his face, and then there’s Taec, his spiky hedgehog hair is still as hilarious as Junho first saw it, and there’s even Namyoung in that horse mask.
But instead of Chansung singing the chorus he sees another guy, pretty like Nichkhun - pretty with washboard abs that peeks slightly when he lifts his shirt enough to tease, and instead of Junsu, there’s Jokwon dancing on the table, gyrating his hips and swinging his finger like there’s no tomorrow. There’s Doojoon, looking flashy and dapper in one of the scenes, and there’s Jay, rapping his lines like a boss with huge shades and blings around his neck, and Junho? There’s no Junho, there's no Chansung either.
Because here, 2pm is still 7, Jay is still their leader because he never left and neither Junho nor Chansung are a part of the group. Never been a part of it. Not here.
Here, Lee Junho is not a singer-dancer-idol. There’s no million dollar payroll in his bank account, no fancy accessories, no expensive branded shirts and his finest shoes don't even go over a thousand dollar mark.
He still feels strange about it. A part of him demands recognition for those grueling days as a trainee, for days with 2-3 hours of sleep between one schedule to the other, for days spent in hospitals, days of injuries, surgeries. It seems unfair to disregard them and act like those days never existed.
Junho hears the door opening, footsteps approaching, and Chansung shows up in a bit of a hurry.
"Hey, you’re up. I forgot my keys.” He shakes his head goofily as he toes his shoe off and Junho smiles because this, this is the reason he doesn’t want to wake up sometimes; wants to be here all the time. It's selfish and Junho's very aware of that but Chansung has this grin than only he can do that makes Junho feels all too warm inside to even give a care.
"Was already standing in front of the studio when I remembered I didn't have the keys with me." He opens one of the shelves in his study table and rummages through it for a while. "Hah. There you are," he snorts when he finds it.
Chansung--, his Chansung is strikingly similar to the real Chansung, the 2pm member Chansung. He still wears his hair the same way, cropped short with slightly messy bangs. He has the same smile, the same crinkles on the corner of his eyes when he laughs. His arms are just as long with fingers just as thick, and when he moves there’s that same easiness, that effortless warmth and earnestness that makes people want to trust him with their life. (Or in Junho’s case, his heart.)
"That's what you get for not waking me up you know, I could've had reminded you." Junho tilts his head aside.
“But you look so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” Chansung takes the keys to his pocket.
Junho stays silent, scuffing his house slippers into the carpet, and gives a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. He’s not upset, not really, but pretending to sulk is a game he enjoys too much now, knowing Chansung will try to cheer him up in every possible way. He’s bad, he knows that. He’s selfish and bad. Sue him.
“Omoo.. is Juneo angry?” Chansung smiles, sun kissed cheeks and eyes bright with something that makes Junho holds his breath and doesn't, doesn't start thinking about silly things like how perfect this is, how perfect they are, how easy it is to just melt into Chansung's hug when his hand reaches for him, and most certainly not about what he feels for this man, how the words are teetering on the edge of his tongue, threatening to slip out from his lips.
He's never said it. Not even here. He knows what he feels, knows how he feels, but to say it aloud, to give it an actual name - Junho’s not ready for that.
Not ready even here.
Thankfully Chansung's mouth is keeping his tongue and lips busy, and Junho only breaks the kiss when he feels Chansung’s fingers sliding down from his waist to round his butt, squeezing not so lightly through his sweatpants while pushing him back to the couch.
“Thought you had morning class?” Junho pants between kisses, all other thoughts gone out the window, because Chansung is kissing him slow and deep and amazing, like he was born to do this, born to make Junho’s heart do little summersault jumps, born to brush his thumb gently over Junho’s nape while kissing him deeper.
When Chansung leaves his mouth, Junho misses it already. He wants to chase it back where it belongs, between his own, pressed against his cheek, hot and slick on his skin, anywhere as long as it’s somewhere on him. Chansung brushes his nose along Junho’s jawline and Junho winds his arm around Chansung’s neck when he’s hoisted up and laid down carefully on the couch.
“I do.” Chansung buries his face into Junho’s neck, fingers already rucking his shirt up.
“You’re gonna be late.” He tightens his arm around Chansung, tilting his head aside to give more skin and catches a glimpse of the tv, now playing one of 2AM’s ballads. There’s Junsu singing in perfect harmonization with Seulong, Jinwoon and Changmin.
“Technically I already got there, so let’s just let them wait for a while." Junho winces when Chansung nips that spot just under his ear.
“How long is “a while”?” Junho asks again, fingers smoothing over Chansung’s shoulder and Chansung is warm, flesh and bones and real under his fingertips.
“A quickie long?” comes Chansung’s answer.
Junho barks out a laugh, closing his eyes as he feels Chansung’s fingers hooking around the band of his sweatpants to tug them down.
~
“Junho? Junho, we’re here.” Nichkhun shakes his shoulder and Junho is awake for the second time, blinking as he takes on his surroundings.
It’s dark and cold and slightly drizzling when Nichkhun drags him out of the van and Junho is confused, a little , because no matter how many times this happens it still takes a little adjusting. Especially when the arms around his back are not Chansung’s anymore, they're Nichkhun’s, ushering him to the door by Jincheol’s request.
Junho goes into a series of autopilot bows and greetings like the rest of them as soon as they enter the building, Nichkhun still keeping him steady. He’s grateful for Nichkhun’s patience, and lets the Thai peg his slight disorientation to lack of sleep, giving him a reassuring, “I’m okay,” when Nichkhun asks if he’s feeling well.
Chansung is way over there, still latching onto Wooyoung’s side, his long, lanky arms around Wooyoung’s back, fingers gripping Wooyoung’s shoulder as he tries to get a good bite of Wooyoung’s beanie. Junho pretends his stomach doesn’t twist the way it does because he can still feel the way those teeth nip at his skin, thick fingers gripping his butt tightly.
When the stylist noonas dress him up for the photoshoot, Junho looks at his reflection in the mirror and stares for a good 10 minutes, eyes searching for red-purple patches that became the highlight of the too pale skin of his neck, the bruises left by Chansung’s fingertips on his hip, the love bites on his inner thighs (with all the Chansung Chansung Chansung he panted out echoing faintly in his head) .There are none. Of course.
And Junho feels cheated by the world.
~
Her name is Jung Sunhee, 22, she’s warm and bubbly, polite with fine manners. She’s a medical intern, she can speak four languages and her English has this thick British accent that reminds Junho of Hermione.
Her father is a successful businessman, her mother is his mother’s childhood friend and Sunny, as Junho was told to call her, is everything his mother likes. In a way, she represents every aspect of the ideal woman Junho would ever so fluently answer in interviews. (Ever so fluently lie in every interview.)
They have a nice dinner and Junho treats her kind, keeping the conversation going and genuinely laughs at her well prepared jokes. It’s more than a cold common courtesy (his mother has raised him right) and Junho admits it is rather fun, but still, it takes all of his effort to keep a certain someone from crowding his thoughts. So he pushes it to the utmost corner of his mind, like he isn’t wishing it's him instead of her sitting and eating and talking about a possible future for the both of them.
When he gets back to their dorm, it’s Chansung who opens the door for him.
“So how did it go this time? Is she nice? Do you like her? ” Chansung asks with a full mouth, munching through the burger in his hand. He’s in a loose grey tee, that and simple black shorts, both of which he bought on their trip to Busan years ago. His hair is messy but it looks soft and fluffy enough for Junho to want to run his fingers through it, try counting each strand and multiply them with the number of days he’s been pinning, and scream the end result to Chansung’s face.
“Stop grinning, you’re ugly when you do that,” he says instead, curtly, walking past Chansung before he does anything stupid, like brushing his thumb across Chansung’s cheek while pressing their lips together, or worse, confessing this overwhelming warmth in his chest everytime he sees him. Because he can’t do that, not allowed to do that.
Because his mother has raised him right.
And love should only happen between a man and a woman.
Junho doesn’t change his clothes, doesn’t even go to the bathroom to wash his face. He just kicks his shoes and crawls into bed, suddenly feeling tired and so, so old.
~
Junho reads about lucid dreams.
A dream where he knows he’s dreaming, a dream where everything is so vivid, so real and he has somewhat control over the things happening there if he wants it hard enough.
Junho reads about parallel universes, bubble universe, baby universes, alternate realities, higher dimensions, extra dimensions - he reads and reads and reads and reads and reads. (And skillfully clicks on the online shopping tab whenever Wooyoung snoops over his shoulder with a “what chu doooing?" with a cup of smoothie in his hands.)
And all Junho ends up with is more questions than answers.
If these are lucid dreams, then did he create this reality inside his head? A reality where he can show Chansung how he truly feels, a reality where Chansung mirrors his feelings. At a price. Neither of them are in 2pm, neither of them are idols. Chansung is a martial art teacher with classes to teach and tournaments to attend and Junho goes from one audition to another, breathing life into the perfect role, one musical after the other.
Does being with Chansung really outweight everything, even his established place under the spotlight as an idol? His subconscious seems to think so or else he wouldn’t be having these dreams. Or maybe this isn’t a dream? Maybe it’s some kind of dimensional distortion? A fluke in the alternate reality realm that made their worlds collide and interlace into one? Maybe it’s some sort of messed up parallel universe resulting from a fucking black hole throwing a fucking fit at the fucking galaxy and with his luck he just kind of got trapped in between the whole mess.
Jesus. Junho runs his hand down his face. He’s not made for this, not made to question the universe. That’s where Nichkhun, Taecyeon or even Chansung fits in. Him? Quantum physics or in-depth psychological analysis stuff isn’t his thing. He skipped physics and spent his time practicing dance moves or reciting his lines for the theater club back when he was still a highschooler. He’s made to perform, be it singing or acting.
For what it’s worth, Junho thinks he deserves a daesang for his act feigning indifference every time he’s with Chansung. The 2pm member Chansung. He’ll go about his day, put up a front and treat Chansung the way he treats his other members, like a friend, a family. He’s too good at it, too burdened with too many things that he could never find it in himself to man up and tell the real Chansung about. Fuck, he can’t even tell his Chansung how he feels and he's just a few steps away, humming quietly while trying to cook them dinner in the warmth and comfort of their own home here.
So there it is, this is how it always ends up, him suppressing his feelings, suppressing everything so far down that his subconscious has had enough, took over and created a reality where they are already so conveniently together. That is if his subconscious really was responsible for all of this . The thing is Junho isn’t sure how or why this keeps happening. He isn’t sure of anything anymore. Well almost. There is one thing he’s very, very sure of.
“You do know I love you, don’t you?” he says barely above a whisper, staring at the broad expanse of Chansung’s shoulders in their small kitchen. “Because I do. So, so much.”
It scares him, this confession. Somehow hearing his own voice saying those words feels like it’s the real deal now. He can’t take it back; he can’t turn his back, can’t hide away in snappy comments or distracts himself in Chansung’s touch. It feels like he opened up a door to something new, the confession more to himself than to Chansung and the weight of everything in it makes his voice crack. He’s not crying, not planning to cry, but there are tears sliding from the corners of his eyes anyway. He feels helpless and he’s not supposed to feel helpless but Junho doesn’t really know how to stop it. He grips the counter's surface a tad harder, shutting his eyes, and concentrates on breathing. (And trying not to choke on his own tears.)
Sunny’s smile is the first thing he sees at the back of his eyes, pretty in a white bridal dress, a beautiful hand bouquet on her white gloved hands, and Junho’s stomach churns because he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want her.
He knows what he wants, he knows who he wants.
“Hey, hey, of course I know that.” Suddenly Junho is surrounded by Chansung’s warmth. There's an arm around his back like they knew he could crumble any moment now, a hand running slow and gentle in his hair. “And I love you, lots and lots if you haven’t noticed." He chuckles, and it's warm and everything Chansung is and Junho just wants to drown in his arms. "Juneo, what’s wrong?” Chansung hushes, lips brushing over his hair, arms cradling him closer when Junho doesn't say a word.
Everything. Junho thinks.
“Nothing.” He says.
Chansung is everything Junho wants and he’s everything Junho’s not allowed to have. (But no one else needs to know that.)
~
Junho wakes up when Wooyoung nudges his elbow.
“ Seatbelt.” He says, lips thin in apparent nervousness. “ Air turbulence" he continues at the same time the plane goes into a little dive and Junho doesn't need to be told twice before buckling his seatbelt on.
They’re flying to Thailand for a cf making and Junho thinks the sun there might do him some good, putting some distance between him and the ever present texts from his mum. It’s not that he hates his mum for doing it, he knows her reasons are nothing but kind, if anything, he can only hate himself for going along with it. For not telling her how he really feels, for not telling her who he really is. Sometimes he thinks that she knows already, that she's only waiting for him to say the word and these meet ups she keeps planning for him are her way to actually make things clearer for him. Because she's mum, and Junho honestly feels that she knows him more than he think she does. So maybe she only wants him to start owning his feelings. Maybe. Junho doesn't even want to think about other possible reasons.
“If we were to die, d'you think you'd have any regrets?” Junho asks, fingers gripping the armrest tight but eyes shifting almost on cue to where Chansung sits. (Across the aisle, two seats in front of him.) And no, it doesn't faze him anymore that he seems to always know where Chansung is around him because you don't tell a flower where the sun is, it just knows; and you don't tell Junho where Chansung is, and if that makes him a flower then so be it because dammit Chansung has been his sun for far too long.
"I'd regret dying, now shut up, don't get me thinking stuff like that." Wooyoung curses under his breath and Junho almost finds it funny how scared Wooyoung is if he weren’t so terrified himself.
“No really, what’s the one thing you’d wished you’d done? The one thing you’d wished you’d told someone?”
Wooyoung continues to ignores him and Junho takes that as the end of it.
Maybe mum would understand, Junho thinks as the ride gets bumpier. After all, she’s doing everything because she wants him to be happy, so maybe she might actually be okay if he tries to talk to her. Maybe somehow, someway, it’ll work out. Still, it’s a far stretch and Junho’s aware he’s using too many maybes.
Junho leans back into his seat, still got his seatbelt on, but suspects this sickening feeling has nothing to do with the bumpy ride they're experiencing.
When Wooyoung catches him staring at Chansung a while later ,( the warning lights turned off and fights attendants are in the aisles again, calming passengers and offering refreshments with blinding smiles) Junho blurts a simple “ She’s pretty.” She, being the stewardess bending over beside Chansung, sweet and young with full breasts and legs that goes on forever, she has her delicate hand on Chansung’s shoulder and Junho takes comfort in the fact that Chansung is too engrossed with whatever he’s discussing with Nichkhun that he just gives her a polite nod to let her know he’s okay.
Wooyoung doesn't say anything, only pushes the shades he's wearing slightly down and stares him back with an all too knowing gaze for Junho's comfort. Something is building, though, in those few seconds of silence, until Junho finally blurts out, "What?"
"What what?" Wooyoung asks back.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" Wooyoung blinks, his face far from being oblivious.
"Like you dont believe me," says Junho.
"Why would I not believe you?"
"I dont know why, that's why I'm asking you," says Junho again, annoyance pricking his skin.
The thing is, Junho has come to know Wooyoung for years now and he knows when Wooyoung isnt being his obnoxious self, he's being observant, sitting quietly and taking mental notes of everything, of everyone. He's the one who found out Khun was dating Tiffany some time ago ( by phone, we just text each other a lot, Khun admitted ) and that thought actually scares him now. It's been years and he's been careful and it's not like he's ashamed of himself or what he's feeling, because he's not. But Junho also knows that this could spiral down to something ugly and people could get hurt, people he cares for , people that matters. He can’t risk that.
"Never mind, wake me up when we get there." He back paddles and closes his eyes, silently wondering if a reality where Wooyoung falls head over heels for Nichkhun could exist just so he’d know how it feels. That would be something.
~
“What if you wake up in a different reality one day and find that you don’t love me?”
He's back in their kitchen again.
"What?" Chansung blinks.
“No. You do love me, but differently?" Junho continues." Like you love me as a brother? A friend? And that you don’t know that you’ve loved me here?” Junho presses the round of his palms against his eyes, sniffling because the feeling that has dampened while he’s in the real world are coming back in rushing waves, bringing more emotions one after the other.
“I think I would’ve loved you the same in any reality.” Chansung brings his hands down gently. His answer is sure and his eyes are soft.
“Yeah, but what if you don’t know it yet?” Junho fingers clutch at the front of Chansung’s shirt unknowingly, voice coming close to a whine and he hates that, hates feeling clingy and vulnerable.
Chansung frowns in that beautiful way he does before making one of his long essays on twitter, reminding Junho again on how similar his Chansung is to the other Chansung. The 2pm member Chansung.
“Will there be a you there? In this, other reality~” Chansung asks thoughtfully.
“Yes.” Junho answers in a half questioning tone, not really sure where Chansung is leading him.
"Then you should find me there and let me know that I do love you, and you love me, and we love each other very much and then everyone is happy.” Chansung smiles, leaning forward to place a soft peck on Junho’s forehead, his thumb brushing Junho’s cheek gently.
“I can’t do that.” He wished things were that simple, but they're not. "What would I say? How would I start?” he mumbles, knowing that these are the least of his worries.
“Just say, Chansung I think we need to talk and then tell me everything. It'll be all right, I promise."
Chansung is back working on their dinner, stirring something in a pot that smells surprisingly wonderful while Junho is helping him with the plates. He goes telling Junho about his day, about how his students are progressing, even shares a joke he heard earlier and Junho smiles because this is nice. This life he has here with Chansung, it's far from the bright lights and ear deafening screams of fans calling his name. It's quiet, it's private, the only light shining is their warm eco-friendly ones, the only voice calling him is Chansung's. It's a small thing really, but for Junho it is enough.
~
When Wooyoung nudges to wake him up again, Junho feels more at ease than ever. He knows what he wants, knows well enough how much he wants it. He plans to explain everything to his mother, plans to somehow confess to Chansung, the real Chansung.
Their schedule is tiring, the text messages from his mother still cram his notification page, but this time Junho picks up his phone and tells her no more. (I need time to think, I'll tell you when I'm ready, I have to go now, bye I love you, all in a single breath.) This will have to do for now, he'll tell her everything soon.
Junho slides his phone screen to a lock and jogs back to his spot and continues their dance practice. He sees his own reflection in the large mirror wall and sees hope. (He sees Chansung too, sweating and grinning and the same word echoes in his mind, soon.)
~
Soon comes to him too fast and awfully abrupt when Junho finds himself standing face to face with his mother. He's being the normal Junho, not the idol-Junho. The normal, openly gay Junho with an hour to spare before his audition so that he decides to take the scenic route, getting off the subway at Cheongdam station and head on his heels only to meet her walking out from one of the many fashion boutiques there.
The first thing Junho notices is that she looks paler, like she has gone without sleep for far too many nights. She's also thinner than Junho ever remembers seeing her. Not that he ever saw her here, in this reality. As a matter of fact, Junho doesn't remember having to meet any of his family members here, Chansung never talked about them and he never asked why. But the look on his mother's face upon seeing him gives Junho a rough idea about his reasons.
It's not anger like Junho had imagined. It's not repulsion either, her eyes don't stare him down in abhorrence or disgust. It's not hate. (It would be easier if it was.)
No, it's this overwhelming sadness, like she just wants to reach out for him but somehow she can't, bound by the same shackles Junho has wore for years. He can almost see the battle inside her as she clutches her purse tighter, too skinny fingers gripping the expensive leather like her dear life depends on it. It's this desperation, he can see that it's tearing her apart but his mother has always been determined, and stubborn (and she passed those qualities to him, thank you very much ) but it kills him to just stand there and see her this way, so Junho takes a step forward.
"Mum." He calls, convinced that she can hear him, he can see it on her face as she blinks herself together again.
There's a good distance between them, people walking by in a rush with places to go and things to do and yet there she stands, frozen in her spot.
"Mum, it's me." Junho tries to smile as he approaches her. He wants to hold her, wants to tell her that everything is all right, that he's all right, that the world did not come to an end just because he's in love with another man. And that's when he sees them, bustling out from the same boutique with wide smiles and perfect permed hair, one of them used to be his Sunday school teacher and Junho gives a polite bow when they see him too.
They smile to him, although awkwardly, and it's almost like everyone is holding their breath to see what his mother will do next.
Nothing.
His mother does nothing.
She does nothing and she says nothing and when Junho looks into her eyes he sees nothing. It's as if she just sees through him, like he wasn't even there, like he's just another stranger to her.
She leaves without saying a word, and Junho watches her go with her friends before turning around to where he's supposed to be heading. He has his script clutched tight in his fisted palm but the thought of audition itself is already long gone. (And maybe the world does comes to an end for the both of them, if only a little.)
It's okay. Junho tells himself, placing one foot upon another on the sidewalk. It's okay, his breath picking up. It's not like he never saw this coming, because he did. He just refused to acknowledge it. He should, though; he should be ready for this if he's thinking of telling his real mother in the real world what he's thinking to tell her. Which he is, of course, thinking and planning and is going to tell her, but that thought will have to wait because right now he's stumbling on his own feet and thinks he grazed his palms against the coarse pavement as he falls, his breath is hitching and he can't breathe properly and it's suddenly blurry everywhere he sees so he must be crying. It's stupid and pathetic and Junho doesn't want to be stupid and pathetic so he furiously wipes his tears , gets up on his feet, and drags himself forward, picking up speed as he goes and starts running to god knows where because it feels like the world is closing in on him and he can't, for the love of god, deal with it right now.
~
The house is quiet when he gets home and Junho distractedly wonders whether Chansung has forgotten that his class is canceled today. He tosses his keys onto the cabinet and goes directly to wash his face, frowning at his swollen eyes. He chugs down a glass of water, sits on the couch and turns the tv on.
An episode of Khun and Gain in We Got Married greets him on the screen and Junho pauses for a while, still finding it fascinating on how similar this Khun is with the real Khun. On how similar this reality is to the real one but at the same time, it's different.
It's different because Chansung loves him here, different because he's so much braver here. All the things that he could only imagine doing in the real world, he is doing it here. He's winning Chansung's love here, he's diving head first in acting without the help of his management here, and most of all, he came out to his family here. When was that anyway? How did other Junho do it? And where does other Junho go when he, the real Junho, starts appearing here. What was his mother's response when he told her that he's not interested in girls?
Junho stares blankly at the tv screen, not really watching the show as his thoughts are going miles per seconds. He knows what his mother's response was, that part is clear. He wonders if his real mother would have the same reaction, and his sister, will she look at him differently when she knows this side of him that he kept so well hidden?
Junho hears the front door being unlocked and out of the corner of his eyes sees Chansung entering the living room. "Hey." Chansung greets. He hears some rustling and spoon clinking later but cant be bothered to pay more attention.
He knows Chansung is trying to make a conversation with him, but Junho just feels so tired, so spent, so broken that it's not until Chansung comes and sits beside him, placing a mug of tea on the armrest of the couch he's sitting and taking his hands between his own , asking him if he's all right. Chansung's voice is unsure but warm, always so warm, that Junho finally caves and tells him what happened.
There's something different about his Chansung today although Junho cant actually find anything out of the ordinary. But he's just as gentle and he's just as kind when he pulls Junho into a hug. They kiss, soft and deep, their mouths sliding together just right and Junho recognizes the familiar pull of Chansung's lips when he deepens the kiss. Junho holds Chansung closer and breathes out, "Chansung, Chansung.."and lets himself falls a little more in love with him.
They make love, eventually, and as Junho comes in soft gasps there's this small small voice at the back of his head telling him to hold on . Hold on to the bruises, the marks Chansung's made on him, the love bites , knowing that although they will disappear when he's back as 2pm's Junho,
his love for Chansung will not.
~
It's easy to glide through the days when there's always something to do and people to meet, and their schedule has been unforgivably packed lately. But that doesn't mean that Junho has given up thinking about it.
Sometimes Junho thinks he sees something in the way Chansung is looking back at him, sometimes it almost feels like his Chansung and real Chansung are the same person, and sometimes Junho thinks that he's just driving himself insane with all his thinking.
Still, Junho makes a decision.
He's not going to pretend he's not afraid or that he has found an epiphany because he is very much terrified and what he knows now he has known it for a long time already. He doesn't know though, of what would he say to his mother, how will he confront her, but he knows that he will say it, knows now that he's strong enough to say it. He understands he might hurt them and he's truly sorry but he also hopes that they can understand him.
And it takes him a while but he's walking up to Chansung one day, the real Chansung in the real world. Junho approaches him right after one of their tour concerts, before any after party begins because he needs to be awake and Chansung needs to be--,well, not sloshed. He needs a sober, fully functional Chansung for this and he needs that buzz of adrenaline in his bloodstream to muster enough courage, taking a deep breath and finally says,
"Chansung I think we need to talk."