FIC: Can't Break What Broke Apart [Yoochun/Changmin]
can't break what broke apart
yoochun/changmin; 2,621
R
very belated help_haiti fic for sin_delight who wanted some angsty yoochun/changmin. :) thank you once again to linda for listening to me whine for, well, weeks. oops. :D?
Yoochun hates when the weather doesn't fit his mood. The wipers are turned on to the highest speed, but the cars in front of him are still a watery blur, making the flickering brake lights look as if they're bleeding across his windshield. It shouldn't be raining and nearly freezing out. It should be sunny and just warm enough for him to wear flip flops later when he takes Harang out for a walk. It's a good day, one of few lately, and Yoochun doesn't think it's too much to ask that Mother Nature feel the same.
His phone goes off and he picks up to, "Hey, jerkface, did you get lost and are too man enough to ask for directions?"
"Fuck you. I'm ten minutes away." The speedometer reads 20kmph. "Fifteen."
"The show starts in fifteen," Junsu says. "If you're late, I'm telling them to not let you in."
The light turns yellow for the car in front of him. Yoochun steps on the gas and swerves into the other lane to avoid hitting it. "I won't be late," he says. "I'm breaking traffic laws for you. And even if I am, there's that one usher chick -- Eunhee, Eunmi -- whatever, I can tell she wants in my pants so I'll just find her."
"She'll want inside your pants until she finds out you don't know her name," Junsu says. He starts to say something else, but is interrupted by another voice, muffled but snappy. "Hey, gotta go. Hurry up, okay, asshole?"
The line goes dead before Yoochun can retort with something equally lame, which is probably for the better because some jerk decides to cut him off just then and he has to slam on the brakes. Fuck, he's going to be really late.
---
He pulls into the tiny parking lot behind the theater two minutes before curtain and runs into the building. Before the first show, Yoochun had snickered like a 13 year old when told he was to enter through the back door, but really, using it meant bypassing any fans specifically on the lookout to see if he would show up and reaching his seat in under 45 seconds.
Yoochun takes his eyes away from what's in front of him for just a second, patting his pocket to see if his ticket is there since apparently, even being a known friend of the leading actor needs proof of purchase. All it takes is that second for him to collide into something, and he reaches his hands out to brace himself and thinks that it feels oddly familiar, smells familiar even, but no. He's been getting deja vu for a lot of things lately.
"Sorry about that," he says while keeping his eyes on the ground. It never worked, being rude and purposely avoiding eye contact, but it was habit.
"You dropped this."
Yoochun freezes mid-step, his heart suddenly pounding like he's heard a gun cock behind his head.
"...Changmin."
Dressed impeccably, there's not a wrinkle in the black suit Changmin's wearing. He is even skinnier than how he looked in the few glimpses Yoochun has caught in the online tabloids. Yoochun almost wants to touch him to see if he's real, but his feet are frozen in place and he would be too scared to anyway.
It turns out it doesn't matter because Changmin decides to walk to him and, once within arm's reach, silently tucks the ticket into Yoochun's breast pocket. The gesture reminds Yoochun of how Changmin used to be with him -- gentle, patient, and just a little cautious. It was Yunho who once remarked how weird it was that Jaejoong and Yoochun were practically the same person, but Changmin treated one like a puppy would its chew toy, and the other like an old teddy bear that could split at the seams if he wasn't careful.
"You look good," Changmin says, slipping both hands into the pockets of his pants.
"You --" Older, more guarded. Both not and exactly how Yoochun expected him to be. Strikingly handsome. "Yeah, you look good too. Why are you here?"
Changmin smiles a little. "Am I forbidden from attending plays?"
"Don't be a smartass." Yoochun wouldn't ever say that he's unhappy to see Changmin, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten the last conversation they had. "Isn't there something Yunho's doing you need to go and fawn over?"
"Ouch."
"Listen, just," Yoochun rubs his forehead, wishing for a second that he had rear-ended that car so that he wouldn't be having this conversation right now, "whatever, okay? Go see the show. Do what you want. I don't care why you're here."
Yoochun's taken all of two steps when Changmin says, "'Cause of you." The tone Changmin uses makes it seem like he could be talking about anything, the weather, plans for the weekend -- anything but the precarious balance that used to exist between them before he chose Yunho and left Yoochun to pick up the aftermath of their non-relationship.
It pisses Yoochun off.
"Fuck you, you don't get to do this." Changmin's face is impassive as ever and Yoochun thinks he could kill him for being able to stand there and act like time is all Yoochun needed to be okay. Like both of them are anywhere near okay. "You don't fucking get to show up unannounced -- uninvited -- just to mess with me after you made your decision. Does Yunho even know you're here?"
"He went home for the weekend. Been obsessed with charities lately."
"Stop being an asshole."
"I keep dreaming about you," Changmin says, non sequitur, his right foot kicking imaginary pebbles at Yoochun.
"Seriously, you can't do thi--"
"-- There's this one. Yunho's next to me and you're facing us. I choose him and we walk away, but then I turn around even though I feel I shouldn't and I'm suddenly in front of you again. Then I gut you with my bare hands and that's when I wake up."
Yoochun stares at Changmin. It's not that it isn't something Changmin wouldn't have said before, just that before, Yoochun would've laughed it off, pouted, and told Changmin to stop killing him in his dreams, it wasn't nice. Now though, he feels a bit like slamming Changmin into the wall. "Jesus fucking Christ, what are you here for? You're telling me that you feel guilty for screwing me over, is that it? You want me to say I forgive you so your guilty conscious can stop giving you these messed up dreams?" Changmin stays quiet, but shrugs. Yoochun balls his hands into fists. "Fuck you."
Changmin has the nerve to smile at him, but Changmin's always had a knack for being ten times more infuriating than thought possible. "You're angry."
"What do you want?" Yoochun says. He had no right to hold it against Changmin for being upset that they walked away, but he's not sure that the reason why Changmin's here has anything to do with that.
The music for the third song thrums alive, muffled by the heavy double doors separating them and the theatre. He wonders how much of the audience Junsu can see, if Junsu thinks he's in there, that he made it like he said he would and never got stopped by Changmin. The crackle of an usher's radio from around the corner breaks their staring contest and he's not fast enough to steal away. Changmin gets a hold of his wrist, pulling him into the bathroom.
It smells like disinfectant. The towel dispensers are full and the counters are spotless. No one is going to come in here and interrupt them which is what Changmin wants and what Yoochun is afraid of. He takes his wrist back and rubs at it.
"You can't just stalk me out after months of no communication and think I'm going to go along with everything," Yoochun says. But even he knows that's practically a full out lie.
Changmin takes a step towards Yoochun, then another. His hands are back in his pockets, just a guise to make Yoochun think he can still escape. "Stop me then."
Changmin is close enough that Yoochun can feel Changmin's breath warm against his cheek, and all he can smell is the cologne he doesn't recall Changmin ever having worn before. It's understated, but sharp, and Yoochun wants to hide himself in Changmin's jacket and breathe him in for hours. Days.
"I'm not doing this to torment you," Changmin says, and his voice is softer around the edges. It's probably the closest thing to an apology Yoochun's going to get.
"You're not exactly doing me a favor either." Yoochun stares at Changmin's shirt and wonders when and how his hand got there. But mostly why, instead of taking it back, his fingers curl into the loose fabric that hangs off of Changmin's thin frame to pull Changmin those last few centimeters closer. "So are you gonna--"
He doesn't finish because Changmin pushes him suddenly, their lips crushing together before Yoochun's back even hits the wall. It's nothing like how they used to kiss; they've forgotten how to fit their mouths together and have to relearn, teeth bumping into each other and digging painfully against the insides of their lips. It's awkward and uncoordinated, but it feels too good to stop, and months of not having Changmin's weight pressed against him only makes Yoochun's fingers paw more desperately at Changmin's shirt, untucking it roughly so he can touch the warm skin underneath.
It's like a jolt, the first brush of his palm over Changmin's stomach, and Yoochun realizes he never stood a chance, that the second Changmin stopped him in the lobby, it was going to lead to this.
Yoochun reaches for Changmin's belt but one of Changmin's hands stops him. The other is still firmly gripping Yoochun's hair, making Yoochun wince when he's tugged forward and they fumble their way to one of the stalls, their kiss resuming as quick as it stopped once Changmin has Yoochun against the closed door.
Again, Yoochun tries to undo Changmin's belt but is slapped away. He breaks the kiss to ask why, except by the time he opens his eyes Changmin is no longer in front of him and his pants are the ones being unzipped. "You don't have to," he says as he stares up at the ceiling, unsure why he feels the need to be courteous at a moment like this.
"Shut up," Changmin says and takes most of Yoochun in his mouth in one go.
It's rough and dirty, unskilled even compared to the last time that was so long ago, but it's the most alive Yoochun's felt in weeks. He grips the coat hook over his shoulder so hard his knuckles turn white and his nails bite into his palm, all in an effort to make this last long enough so that there's something to remember.
In the end, he only makes it a few minutes and spills into Changmin's mouth with a shout that he muffles into the curve of his elbow. Changmin keeps sucking until Yoochun is boneless and the weight of Changmin's tongue makes Yoochun hiss and jerk back.
"Fuck, c'mere," Yoochun mutters, pulling up on the shoulders of Changmin's pressed jacket.
They both fumble with Changmin's pants, Changmin undoing them while Yoochun tugs impatiently until they are loose enough to slide down Changmin's legs and pool around his ankles. Yoochun can only hang on as Changmin starts rutting against his hip and sucking at the base of his throat, his hands grabbing anything he can reach -- Changmin's shirt, Changmin's hair, earning a loud moan when his nails drag across Changmin's lower back.
Yoochun breathes out Changmin's name as he blinks rapidly up towards the ceiling. His arms are wrapped tightly around Changmin's back, unwilling to let any space in between them. "Don't go back to him."
Changmin's movements falter and freeze for an excruciatingly long second, and Yoochun thinks he's gone and fucked everything up. But Changmin says nothing and starts grinding against him again, with the only evidence that anything happened in the way Changmin's hips move faster, out of rhythm, and how his teeth now scrape over the sensitive skin of Yoochun's throat.
It's not enough to make Yoochun stop. "Don't, okay?" he says, grunting when Changmin's teeth bite down on his collarbone and holds there, the soreness spreading through his shoulder almost immediately. "I don't care if you want to hear it, you asshole. He doesn't love you." Changmin fists his hair and pulls Yoochun's head back hard, exposing more of his throat and making him wince when it bangs against the door.
"He's never going to love you," Yoochun continues, more out of breath now than after he came. "You're the little brother. You've always been the little brother, you're always going to be, and he's only going to look out for you until he finds the woman he doesn't know yet, but is already in love with."
"Shut up," Changmin hisses into Yoochun's ear.
Yoochun just smiles over Changmin's shoulder and grabs Changmin's ass, closing his eyes as he presses his thigh up. "You should have heard this a long time ago," he says, feeling oddly calm. "Maybe I could've convinced you back then and we wouldn't be here right now."
Changmin lifts his head and looks at Yoochun like he doesn't really see him. "Where would we be?" he says, his hand falling from Yoochun's hair to touch Yoochun's cheek. "In there, watching Junsu? And after, I'd take you out to dinner? Is that how it would've happened?"
"Yeah, maybe," Yoochun says softly. He takes Changmin in his hand and strokes roughly once, twice, and when Changmin tenses up and comes, he watches impassively.
After, Changmin moves away first, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to clean them up.
"I mean it," Yoochun says as Changmin helps make him presentable again after pulling up his own pants. "Don't walk away from me again."
Changmin sighs, his fingers lingering after they zip up Yoochun's fly. "You shouldn't be like this."
"Be like what?" Yoochun cups the back of Changmin's neck, forcing him to look up. "You listen, okay? I am so fucking in love with you that even when you treat me like shit, I will still take what I can get, even if it means ditching out on one of my best friends for a quickie blowjob in the bathroom. I'm not Yunho, I'm so far from perfect and maybe we would be too, but I'm not ever going to lead you on or give you false hope." He's stroking Changmin's cheek gently now with his thumb, trying to tell himself that pleading would be embarrassing and undignified. Or more undignified than what they just did.
"Nothing's that easy."
"I didn't say it was," Yoochun says. "Just stop making me second best."
Before Changmin gets to answer, someone enters the bathroom. Yoochun sees Changmin freeze up and he already knows how this is going to end. More than that, he knows how useless it would be to try and stop Changmin, so he doesn't and lets Changmin leave without another word while the other person is in the stall next to them.
Two hours later, there's a text from Junsu asking where he is. Yoochun leaves the tiny bathroom stall and splashes cold water on his face until his eyes aren't puffy anymore and his cheeks are numb. Then he calls Junsu and says, "Hey, baby, just putting my pretty face on for you."
When Junsu laughs at him easily without suspicion, he knows he can pretend again.
yoochun/changmin; 2,621
R
very belated help_haiti fic for sin_delight who wanted some angsty yoochun/changmin. :) thank you once again to linda for listening to me whine for, well, weeks. oops. :D?
Yoochun hates when the weather doesn't fit his mood. The wipers are turned on to the highest speed, but the cars in front of him are still a watery blur, making the flickering brake lights look as if they're bleeding across his windshield. It shouldn't be raining and nearly freezing out. It should be sunny and just warm enough for him to wear flip flops later when he takes Harang out for a walk. It's a good day, one of few lately, and Yoochun doesn't think it's too much to ask that Mother Nature feel the same.
His phone goes off and he picks up to, "Hey, jerkface, did you get lost and are too man enough to ask for directions?"
"Fuck you. I'm ten minutes away." The speedometer reads 20kmph. "Fifteen."
"The show starts in fifteen," Junsu says. "If you're late, I'm telling them to not let you in."
The light turns yellow for the car in front of him. Yoochun steps on the gas and swerves into the other lane to avoid hitting it. "I won't be late," he says. "I'm breaking traffic laws for you. And even if I am, there's that one usher chick -- Eunhee, Eunmi -- whatever, I can tell she wants in my pants so I'll just find her."
"She'll want inside your pants until she finds out you don't know her name," Junsu says. He starts to say something else, but is interrupted by another voice, muffled but snappy. "Hey, gotta go. Hurry up, okay, asshole?"
The line goes dead before Yoochun can retort with something equally lame, which is probably for the better because some jerk decides to cut him off just then and he has to slam on the brakes. Fuck, he's going to be really late.
---
He pulls into the tiny parking lot behind the theater two minutes before curtain and runs into the building. Before the first show, Yoochun had snickered like a 13 year old when told he was to enter through the back door, but really, using it meant bypassing any fans specifically on the lookout to see if he would show up and reaching his seat in under 45 seconds.
Yoochun takes his eyes away from what's in front of him for just a second, patting his pocket to see if his ticket is there since apparently, even being a known friend of the leading actor needs proof of purchase. All it takes is that second for him to collide into something, and he reaches his hands out to brace himself and thinks that it feels oddly familiar, smells familiar even, but no. He's been getting deja vu for a lot of things lately.
"Sorry about that," he says while keeping his eyes on the ground. It never worked, being rude and purposely avoiding eye contact, but it was habit.
"You dropped this."
Yoochun freezes mid-step, his heart suddenly pounding like he's heard a gun cock behind his head.
"...Changmin."
Dressed impeccably, there's not a wrinkle in the black suit Changmin's wearing. He is even skinnier than how he looked in the few glimpses Yoochun has caught in the online tabloids. Yoochun almost wants to touch him to see if he's real, but his feet are frozen in place and he would be too scared to anyway.
It turns out it doesn't matter because Changmin decides to walk to him and, once within arm's reach, silently tucks the ticket into Yoochun's breast pocket. The gesture reminds Yoochun of how Changmin used to be with him -- gentle, patient, and just a little cautious. It was Yunho who once remarked how weird it was that Jaejoong and Yoochun were practically the same person, but Changmin treated one like a puppy would its chew toy, and the other like an old teddy bear that could split at the seams if he wasn't careful.
"You look good," Changmin says, slipping both hands into the pockets of his pants.
"You --" Older, more guarded. Both not and exactly how Yoochun expected him to be. Strikingly handsome. "Yeah, you look good too. Why are you here?"
Changmin smiles a little. "Am I forbidden from attending plays?"
"Don't be a smartass." Yoochun wouldn't ever say that he's unhappy to see Changmin, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten the last conversation they had. "Isn't there something Yunho's doing you need to go and fawn over?"
"Ouch."
"Listen, just," Yoochun rubs his forehead, wishing for a second that he had rear-ended that car so that he wouldn't be having this conversation right now, "whatever, okay? Go see the show. Do what you want. I don't care why you're here."
Yoochun's taken all of two steps when Changmin says, "'Cause of you." The tone Changmin uses makes it seem like he could be talking about anything, the weather, plans for the weekend -- anything but the precarious balance that used to exist between them before he chose Yunho and left Yoochun to pick up the aftermath of their non-relationship.
It pisses Yoochun off.
"Fuck you, you don't get to do this." Changmin's face is impassive as ever and Yoochun thinks he could kill him for being able to stand there and act like time is all Yoochun needed to be okay. Like both of them are anywhere near okay. "You don't fucking get to show up unannounced -- uninvited -- just to mess with me after you made your decision. Does Yunho even know you're here?"
"He went home for the weekend. Been obsessed with charities lately."
"Stop being an asshole."
"I keep dreaming about you," Changmin says, non sequitur, his right foot kicking imaginary pebbles at Yoochun.
"Seriously, you can't do thi--"
"-- There's this one. Yunho's next to me and you're facing us. I choose him and we walk away, but then I turn around even though I feel I shouldn't and I'm suddenly in front of you again. Then I gut you with my bare hands and that's when I wake up."
Yoochun stares at Changmin. It's not that it isn't something Changmin wouldn't have said before, just that before, Yoochun would've laughed it off, pouted, and told Changmin to stop killing him in his dreams, it wasn't nice. Now though, he feels a bit like slamming Changmin into the wall. "Jesus fucking Christ, what are you here for? You're telling me that you feel guilty for screwing me over, is that it? You want me to say I forgive you so your guilty conscious can stop giving you these messed up dreams?" Changmin stays quiet, but shrugs. Yoochun balls his hands into fists. "Fuck you."
Changmin has the nerve to smile at him, but Changmin's always had a knack for being ten times more infuriating than thought possible. "You're angry."
"What do you want?" Yoochun says. He had no right to hold it against Changmin for being upset that they walked away, but he's not sure that the reason why Changmin's here has anything to do with that.
The music for the third song thrums alive, muffled by the heavy double doors separating them and the theatre. He wonders how much of the audience Junsu can see, if Junsu thinks he's in there, that he made it like he said he would and never got stopped by Changmin. The crackle of an usher's radio from around the corner breaks their staring contest and he's not fast enough to steal away. Changmin gets a hold of his wrist, pulling him into the bathroom.
It smells like disinfectant. The towel dispensers are full and the counters are spotless. No one is going to come in here and interrupt them which is what Changmin wants and what Yoochun is afraid of. He takes his wrist back and rubs at it.
"You can't just stalk me out after months of no communication and think I'm going to go along with everything," Yoochun says. But even he knows that's practically a full out lie.
Changmin takes a step towards Yoochun, then another. His hands are back in his pockets, just a guise to make Yoochun think he can still escape. "Stop me then."
Changmin is close enough that Yoochun can feel Changmin's breath warm against his cheek, and all he can smell is the cologne he doesn't recall Changmin ever having worn before. It's understated, but sharp, and Yoochun wants to hide himself in Changmin's jacket and breathe him in for hours. Days.
"I'm not doing this to torment you," Changmin says, and his voice is softer around the edges. It's probably the closest thing to an apology Yoochun's going to get.
"You're not exactly doing me a favor either." Yoochun stares at Changmin's shirt and wonders when and how his hand got there. But mostly why, instead of taking it back, his fingers curl into the loose fabric that hangs off of Changmin's thin frame to pull Changmin those last few centimeters closer. "So are you gonna--"
He doesn't finish because Changmin pushes him suddenly, their lips crushing together before Yoochun's back even hits the wall. It's nothing like how they used to kiss; they've forgotten how to fit their mouths together and have to relearn, teeth bumping into each other and digging painfully against the insides of their lips. It's awkward and uncoordinated, but it feels too good to stop, and months of not having Changmin's weight pressed against him only makes Yoochun's fingers paw more desperately at Changmin's shirt, untucking it roughly so he can touch the warm skin underneath.
It's like a jolt, the first brush of his palm over Changmin's stomach, and Yoochun realizes he never stood a chance, that the second Changmin stopped him in the lobby, it was going to lead to this.
Yoochun reaches for Changmin's belt but one of Changmin's hands stops him. The other is still firmly gripping Yoochun's hair, making Yoochun wince when he's tugged forward and they fumble their way to one of the stalls, their kiss resuming as quick as it stopped once Changmin has Yoochun against the closed door.
Again, Yoochun tries to undo Changmin's belt but is slapped away. He breaks the kiss to ask why, except by the time he opens his eyes Changmin is no longer in front of him and his pants are the ones being unzipped. "You don't have to," he says as he stares up at the ceiling, unsure why he feels the need to be courteous at a moment like this.
"Shut up," Changmin says and takes most of Yoochun in his mouth in one go.
It's rough and dirty, unskilled even compared to the last time that was so long ago, but it's the most alive Yoochun's felt in weeks. He grips the coat hook over his shoulder so hard his knuckles turn white and his nails bite into his palm, all in an effort to make this last long enough so that there's something to remember.
In the end, he only makes it a few minutes and spills into Changmin's mouth with a shout that he muffles into the curve of his elbow. Changmin keeps sucking until Yoochun is boneless and the weight of Changmin's tongue makes Yoochun hiss and jerk back.
"Fuck, c'mere," Yoochun mutters, pulling up on the shoulders of Changmin's pressed jacket.
They both fumble with Changmin's pants, Changmin undoing them while Yoochun tugs impatiently until they are loose enough to slide down Changmin's legs and pool around his ankles. Yoochun can only hang on as Changmin starts rutting against his hip and sucking at the base of his throat, his hands grabbing anything he can reach -- Changmin's shirt, Changmin's hair, earning a loud moan when his nails drag across Changmin's lower back.
Yoochun breathes out Changmin's name as he blinks rapidly up towards the ceiling. His arms are wrapped tightly around Changmin's back, unwilling to let any space in between them. "Don't go back to him."
Changmin's movements falter and freeze for an excruciatingly long second, and Yoochun thinks he's gone and fucked everything up. But Changmin says nothing and starts grinding against him again, with the only evidence that anything happened in the way Changmin's hips move faster, out of rhythm, and how his teeth now scrape over the sensitive skin of Yoochun's throat.
It's not enough to make Yoochun stop. "Don't, okay?" he says, grunting when Changmin's teeth bite down on his collarbone and holds there, the soreness spreading through his shoulder almost immediately. "I don't care if you want to hear it, you asshole. He doesn't love you." Changmin fists his hair and pulls Yoochun's head back hard, exposing more of his throat and making him wince when it bangs against the door.
"He's never going to love you," Yoochun continues, more out of breath now than after he came. "You're the little brother. You've always been the little brother, you're always going to be, and he's only going to look out for you until he finds the woman he doesn't know yet, but is already in love with."
"Shut up," Changmin hisses into Yoochun's ear.
Yoochun just smiles over Changmin's shoulder and grabs Changmin's ass, closing his eyes as he presses his thigh up. "You should have heard this a long time ago," he says, feeling oddly calm. "Maybe I could've convinced you back then and we wouldn't be here right now."
Changmin lifts his head and looks at Yoochun like he doesn't really see him. "Where would we be?" he says, his hand falling from Yoochun's hair to touch Yoochun's cheek. "In there, watching Junsu? And after, I'd take you out to dinner? Is that how it would've happened?"
"Yeah, maybe," Yoochun says softly. He takes Changmin in his hand and strokes roughly once, twice, and when Changmin tenses up and comes, he watches impassively.
After, Changmin moves away first, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to clean them up.
"I mean it," Yoochun says as Changmin helps make him presentable again after pulling up his own pants. "Don't walk away from me again."
Changmin sighs, his fingers lingering after they zip up Yoochun's fly. "You shouldn't be like this."
"Be like what?" Yoochun cups the back of Changmin's neck, forcing him to look up. "You listen, okay? I am so fucking in love with you that even when you treat me like shit, I will still take what I can get, even if it means ditching out on one of my best friends for a quickie blowjob in the bathroom. I'm not Yunho, I'm so far from perfect and maybe we would be too, but I'm not ever going to lead you on or give you false hope." He's stroking Changmin's cheek gently now with his thumb, trying to tell himself that pleading would be embarrassing and undignified. Or more undignified than what they just did.
"Nothing's that easy."
"I didn't say it was," Yoochun says. "Just stop making me second best."
Before Changmin gets to answer, someone enters the bathroom. Yoochun sees Changmin freeze up and he already knows how this is going to end. More than that, he knows how useless it would be to try and stop Changmin, so he doesn't and lets Changmin leave without another word while the other person is in the stall next to them.
Two hours later, there's a text from Junsu asking where he is. Yoochun leaves the tiny bathroom stall and splashes cold water on his face until his eyes aren't puffy anymore and his cheeks are numb. Then he calls Junsu and says, "Hey, baby, just putting my pretty face on for you."
When Junsu laughs at him easily without suspicion, he knows he can pretend again.