→ q u o n d a m
“changmin,” yunho says one day as he’s leaning on the couch, a hand on the remote controller. his fingers have curled inwards into fists, and he’s watching the younger with ultimate discretion, yet trains his gaze on the television instead (never mind the fact that the screen is all static and there hasn’t ever been anything interesting to see since -- oh, never mind that, either).
“hm?” changmin responds quietly, a sound that tickles at yunho’s ears. changmin has a book in hand and he’s sitting on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. yunho’s hands are only a few inches away.
“nothing,” yunho says instead, and looks elsewhere.
maybe another day, jung, he thinks to himself, maybe another universe.
“i,” yunho starts, then stops himself midsentence. he’s alone in his bedroom and the light is just barely cleaning through a strip against the floor, a white ribbon of the moon that laces upon the creaking wood. he holds his breath until his heart pounds against his chest, then sits up so the bed protests against his weight.
he’s alone tonight.
he knows this because changmin hasn’t clambered into his bed yet. the younger’s arms and legs aren’t latched tightly around his body, and his fingers have yet to comb through hair as soft as silk; he has yet to kiss a perspiring forehead, and there aren’t any nightmares that he has to chase away, either. the silence coils around yunho and he wonders how changmin will die tonight.
from outside his open window, the crickets are chirping. it’s a staccato song, quick and upbeat, and it sounds like the clicking of wings. sirens interrupt the soothing harmony of the night’s song. it wails, and it reminds yunho of changmin’s screams. yunho’s breath hitches and he lays back down again, blanket pulled well over his head, like a child too frightened by his nightmare to see
what lurks outside.
not this world, either, he supposes.
“love,” yunho breathes, and kisses her cheek. tonight, he is the one who will leave changmin alone. tonight, he is the one who will die instead. she giggles and trails a neatly manicured nail down yunho’s chest. a shiver runs down his spine and he is reminded of changmin’s drunken mouth, sloppy against his own.
“oppa,” she murmurs, and brings her hands down to cup over his long, bony fingers.
she’s sweet. like chocolate, yunho thinks, like changmin’s eyes. tension bursts in his abdomen and he warns himself not to think of the younger. instead he brings his lips down to her jaw, and smiles at her. she falls for it, love in her gaze. they’ve been courting for a month now.
thirty different ways changmin has died, yunho absently notices, and this time, he doesn’t reprimand himself for such a thought. tonight is the 31st night, and this time, yunho is going to take her hand and pull her out into the streets. the both of them will be as high as a skyscraper, hiccuping and laughing deliriously, and a car is going to zoom by. yunho is going to sober up, realize, and push her out of the way. then he’ll be the one to die.
the two of them stumble out into the sidewalk.
“step one,” yunho says under his breath.
he looks down and laughs, hard, and her giggling follows. they trip over their own feet and the crossing is only a few meters away. they reach the curb, and yunho looks up.
“hyung?” changmin’s in the middle of the street. he has stopped midway, a wrapped box in hand, the other hand grasping at the headphones that have now been tugged to hug around his neck.
yunho can’t really see his face, but by the time he and his girlfriend take a step out onto the tar, there is honking and light engulfs changmin’s figure before his lithe body is thrown. to yunho, it all happens in slowmotion. fingers release the box (yunho sees the nametag: to - hyung. from - min, it reads) and there’s a crunch, and changmin’s bones are all shattered by the time he collapses on the ground. blood pools from underneath. there is silent for a moment, then a soft gasp, and yunho pushes the girl away, and runs.
it has always been changmin, in every galaxy he wakes up to.
“you,” yunho recites, and it’s a new chapter. the page has turned.
everyone looks at him as he sits at the end of the table. changmin’s brow arches and he clears his throat, adjusting his tie. from beneath the table, changmin gives yunho’s foot a gentle nudge with the toes of his shoes. hyung, the gesture warns.
yunho pins his mouth together and feels the blood rush to his face. he attempts to mask it with his trademark grin instead, all white teeth and a gleaming twinkle to his eyes, then looks down at the file in his hands and shifts through the other papers. from beside him, boa shakes her head and leans down, smelling of strawberries. yunho thinks of the strawberry shampoo he has at home, and how changmin has used up half of it.
her breasts are close to his face and he looks away to allow her her rightful privacy. she finds the appropriate profile and murmurs quietly, “there’s another meeting for you to attend after this at 0400PM, on the dot. it’s important.”
he blinks and nods, hardly paying attention. heechul scowls from beside him and, unlike changmin, gives yunho a hard kick to his calf. yunho winces, bangs his knees against the table, startles everyone at the meeting, and gives another sheepish laugh.
“anyway,” changmin says abruptly, and brings the attention away from yunho’s inadequacy. “he has escaped to the states. the police have tried to track him down but they’ve come to more than one dead end -- they say he uses an alias. i think he might’ve created a person - someone by the name of jaejoong - and, i know this is crazy, but - i think ‘karam’ is a figment of his imagination, regardless of the evidence and proof that he exists.”
“jaejoong is capable of anything,” yoochun says wryly. junsu nods in agreement. everyone else is deep in thought, and yunho has already been forgotten.
yunho smiles softly. thanks, changmin-ah, his eyes say, and when their gaze locks, yunho doesn’t miss the way the corner of the younger’s mouth just subtly lifts.
maybe this time, yunho hopes.
a week later, that same mouth is bruised, and the cheek yunho loves to brush his hand against is stained with tears. yunho tries not to imagine jaejoong forcing changmin down and fucking him against the floor, tries not to imagine jaejoong pinning changmin’s wrists together and pushes the sounds changmin must’ve made - the screaming, the whimpering, the muffled protests - from his mind. he tries not to see changmin struggling, and instead, he kisses changmin’s forehead. the younger is thrashing in his sleep, in yunho’s arms.
“don’t,” changmin is gasping, “stop.”
yunho bites his lip and runs his hand comfortingly over changmin’s sides. wrong move.
changmin jerks violently and brings his fingers to yunho’s chest and digs his nails in and tries to shove him away, and without a doubt, where yunho should be, changmin is dreaming of jaejoong, dreaming of jaejoong taking advantage of him, dreaming of jaejoong forcing him to kiss him, jaejoong fucking his mouth -
yunho’s blood boils and he says sharply, “changmin.”
changmin awakens, as though by command. fear is in his eyes and his throat is rough and hoarse and dry. his lips are chapped and swollen, and there are marks littering the rest of his body.
“hyung,” changmin croaks, and pulls his hands back. he’s afraid. his whole form is tense, as though he’s waiting for the moment yunho will strike him for the blood that is now welling up on the elder’s chest.
“please,” changmin whispers, and looks away.
yunho wants to cry.
two weeks later, changmin is dead again. jaejoong has escaped from yunho’s clutches, and when yunho finds changmin’s body crumpled on the floor, there is blood all over the place, and yunho wouldn’t like to think that it’s changmin’s blood that writes the message, “too late. he was a good fuck,” on the floor.
yunho wants to murder someone. and though he’s seen changmin die in ways unimaginable, this is the one scenario that has lasted the longest. this is the one scenario that is the most vivid, and it is the one scenario in which another person is involved. yunho walks into his bedroom and brings a gun to his head.
he’s considered this option before. if he dies, will it all end?
if he dies, will changmin stop dying, too? death has taken too great a fancy to changmin, and yunho only wishes that he’d stop flirting with it. he pauses, then puts the gun in his mouth instead. he pulls the trigger.
bam.
when you pull the trigger on someone else, it’s murder. when you bring the trigger to yourself, it’s suicide.
yunho opens his eyes. changmin is sitting next to him, worry in his eyes. there’s a taste of disgust in his throat, and jaejoong, junsu, and yoochun surround the bed. there’s a needle in his skin and a machine is beeping beside his ear.
there is screaming outside, and changmin’s chest is quickening. jaejoong releases a loud sigh of relief and squeezes yunho’s hand. yunho blinks, in a complete daze. there’s a churning in his abdomen and pains jab at his stomach. jaejoong’s elbow jabs into yoochun’s side and instantly, yoochun is bolting out of the room to tell a doctor, a nurse, anyone.
“yunnie,” jaejoong says, and tears up.
changmin’s hands are trembling when they rest on yunho’s shoulder. yunho gives the youngest a reassuring smile. he wants to say something, but he fears that his voice will only die in his throat, so instead he settles for a grin.
“god, i was so worried -- hyung, did you know -- everyone was -- and -- i was so afraid, what if you never woke up? -- why would anyone -- i should’ve told you not to drink it, you -- i -- yunho-hyung,” junsu rambles, chokes up, and looks at him helplessly.
changmin abruptly stands and walks out of the room.
yunho watches him go. his chest aches. jaejoong’s voice is bringing his attention back to reality again, and yunho turns his head to watch the two of them.
“we need you, yun-ah,” jaejoong says, “we need our leader.”
junsu can only nod. yoochun returns with the doctor, and yunho closes his eyes, sinks his head into the pillow, and breathes. he sees changmin crying just outside the door, sees changmin with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes, sees changmin with his fragile frame shaking, and when everything seems deathly silent, yunho says, “changmin-ah.”
changmin hears him.
“changmin-ah, thank you,” yunho manages, and though his voice sounds terrible, and though his throat scratches and hurts, he knows changmin has heard him, and that’s enough. he wants to say something else, but he can’t -- and the door opens, and yunho opens his eyes again. changmin’s face is red, and there are tears over his cheeks, over his hands. his mouth is pressed together, and yoochun is suddenly bursting into hysterics as well, and junsu, and everyone is crying. the doctor is hesitant.
yunho struggles to sit up. he calls for them all, and he wraps the three of them in the best hug he can manage. changmin stands there.
yunho turns his head, and smiles at the youngest, gives him the broadest grin to have ever graced his face, gives him the special gaze in his eyes and there’s something about this smile that he has never allowed any other to see; this one is reserved for changmin, because changmin has always been the one who has needed yunho the most.
in this earth, yunho lives with changmin, and neither of them die. yunho likes it.