Happy Ventures [one-shot]
Title: Happy Ventures
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Hyuksu (Eunhyuk/Junsu)
Genre: AU!Supernatural, Minor!Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: I own Ciel, Nyx, and this plot. That's about it.
Summary: When dreams aren't really dreams and realities aren't really realities, there's only one thing they can do to fight forward: hope.
Warning(s): UN-BETA'D. A whole lot of incoherency. Approximately 2.9k words.
He turns in the middle of the street and stretches his neck, looking into the night sky. The sky is black-blue, clouds a dark gray and the slight glimmer of stars are hidden behind the haze.
The kids roaming around the area stare when they pass by. They are fascinated by his maroon hat, the white guise, the silky black cloak. His slim figure glows in the midst of the darkness; his glassy eyes gleaming under the moonlight.
“Are you ready to go?” He hears someone ask.
He relaxes his neck and blinks into the new pair of eyes accompanying him. “Sure,” he replies, but there is no sort of interest even vaguely existing in his tone of voice. The other watches with hesitance as he begins walking, his façade flowing at the mercy of the wind.
“Junsu,” his friend calls after him, “you’re alright, aren’t you?”
The boy name Junsu halts his steps, his shoulders frozen and his feet rooted to the ground. The question hits a spot, and he suddenly doesn’t want to do anything but sleep - or fall - anymore. “Of course I am,” he regards, lifting a gloved hand to swipe his dry lips.
It smells like whom they once belonged to; a scent mixed of smoke, alcohol and dirt. Grass.
A hand lands on his shoulder. He relaxes it and smiles behind his mask. His friend nods, giving him a light pat before walking ahead of him.
In the distance, he sees someone standing - waiting. It is not the man who had just left him; it is a man who left him long ago.
Junsu pulls his feet from the ground. His body is dying to disobey his mind - to run after the figure in the distance, the one who is awaiting him - but his body was never the one in control over him.
There’s a breeze that brushes over his ears; cold, barren. “Junsu,” a warm voice whispers to him, cradling him in the chill of the night.
Another breeze, another touch, another surreal reality.
“Junsu!” His friend hollers. “Are you coming?”
Dreams were never made to last long. “Yes!” He shouts back, picking up his pace as he sprints towards his friend. “Changmin-ah,” he mutters, “do you- do you think it’s possible for me to, you know-“
As he struggles with his words, Changmin smiles at him in understanding. “Take as long as you need, hyung.”
Changmin turns, and the next thing Junsu knows, the boy is already running off across the road, too far to reach. Junsu lowers his eyes to the ground, waiting to marvel in the warmth that he’s expecting - the warmth that’s been expecting him.
“Go,” the same voice encourages.
Junsu grins, for the first time that night. “Ironic. You were just asking me to stay.”
He’s still chilled to the bone. It’s uncomfortable. The warmth does not come.
“Are you angry with me?” Junsu inquires. His hands are clutched into fists, the gloves doing no justice in protecting his digits from the cold.
The silence is deafening.
“Hyukjae,” Junsu furrows his brows, “answer me.”
“Too far,” the voice replies, “the memories are too far away.”
Junsu frowns. “Where are you?”
“Voices,” Hyukjae continues, “they’re too loud, Junsu-ah.”
A whip of air embraces Junsu, and it is colder than it ever has been before. Junsu doesn’t understand - he supposes he will never understand Hyukjae.
“I can’t hear,” Hyukjae whimpers, the wind whipping through Junsu’s hair.
“Where are you?!” Junsu demands, thrashing a single arm into the air, as if to grab onto to something - to the something that is really just nothing.
The other does not respond again.
“Telepathy is very unbecoming of you, it always has been,” Junsu notes bitterly, gritting his teeth together. “You’re always running away - away from me, away from reality. Are you even real anymore, Hyukjae? Do you really exist - or are you just a fragment of my mind that has never been true?”
Silence, the calm breeze, and more silence. Junsu thinks he might go crazy, or already is.
“Do you look the same? The same eyes, the same lips, the same smile-“
“Why are you trying so hard to pretend?” Hyukjae accuses, “Pretending as if you remember, after all these years.”
Junsu bites down on his bottom lip. “Because I do remember,” he sighs - the sigh forms as a gust of air before his lips. It is savored by the cold current. “You are the one who has forgotten.”
“I’ve forgotten nothing but the feel of your touch,” Hyukjae claims.
“Then come back for it.”
Hyukjae returns to his silence, but this time, even the breeze is gone.
After a pensive moment of thought, Junsu simply shakes his head and runs forward.
He’s only ever known how to run forward; turning back has never been easy.
Never.
“Changmin.”
The boy turns around amidst his group of guests, wine glass in hand, turning to his friend. “Hyung.”
“I think- do you think I need help?” Junsu asks.
When Changmin realizes his friend is entirely serious when he asks the question, Changmin gives it deep consideration. “What you need isn’t help,” he reasons, “what you need is a little bit of courage.”
“How so?”
“Instead of just staying here, doing nothing but waiting, why don’t you venture out and search for him?” Changmin suggests. “Hyukjae hyung is out there somewhere - stuck, bound. He needs you.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Junsu inquires.
The tall boy shakes his head. “Not once. Have you?”
“Many times,” Junsu lowers his eyes, “too many times.”
Changmin tilts his head, his lips upturned. “Then maybe you don’t have to venture out at all,” he shrugs. As he steps away, he can hear Junsu’s advancing footsteps. He smirks knowingly. “Because he’s always been with you,” he proceeds, “in your heart.”
And here, the breeze returns. “I want him to stay there, in my heart,” Junsu smiles, “but I also want him beside me, in my arms.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait,” Changmin laughs, tipping his hat at a passerby, “or explore.”
Junsu bites on his cheek. “I don’t want to. Haven’t I waited long enough?”
Changmin simply shrugs at him.
This night, Junsu doesn’t sleep very well. He figures it’s probably that voice in his head - his nagging conscience; the one that tells him Hyukjae is the one waiting - waiting for him.
-
When he wakes up, Hyukjae is there with him. Seated across his bed, sitting at the wooden chair beside his desk; one leg is crossed over the other as the man plays with something indistinguishable in his hands.
Junsu blinks once, twice. Hyukjae is still there when he blinks a third time.
But he’s different. His clothes are nothing like what he fashioned before; long, black trousers that blazed at the ends, a baggy shirt that hung below his waist with cuts and slits, and a mantle that was the epitome of disdain.
“It’s not you,” Junsu muttered under his breath.
Hyukjae shifted his gaze from the object between his fingers to meet Junsu’s eyes. “No?” He mocks. “Then, why is there hope in your eyes?” He stands from his chair and paces arrogantly to Junsu’s bedside.
“I was fooled,” Junsu scowls.
The figure nods apprehensively, pursing his lips. “If I’m not wrong, you’re the man who can never be fooled by anyone.”
Junsu narrows his eyes.
Hyukjae bends down, eyes leveled with Junsu’s, and leans forward until the focus of Junsu’s gaze is only on him - thin lips mere inches away from the other’s lips. “Are you not?”
“I am,” Junsu agrees.
The other smirks, a smirk that picks at Junsu’s nerves. Hyukjae has never irritated Junsu so much before - ever. “So, you are fooled by an emotion.”
“A mask,” Junsu corrects.
“Is that so?” Hyukjae straightens out, smiling.
Junsu looks away. “I put myself here, didn’t I?”
“What?”
“This is a dream,” Junsu concludes, “and I put myself here.”
Hyukjae frowns. “Can you create dreams? That is the privilege of a higher power - one you do not have.”
“No, I can’t create dreams,” Junsu replied, “but I can wake myself from them. This dream, though, has gone on too long.”
“Because you long to stay here, with Hyukjae-”
Junsu turns to the other man. “Whom you are not. This dream has stretched long enough-”
“Wait!”
“I’ve been doing that all along, just waiting. I’m done with waiting!” Junsu scowls. “What do I even wait for anymore - a miracle? No, all I want is Hyukjae, for him to come back to me. Where has he gone? Why did he leave? When will he be back? Will these questions ever be answered?”
The other remains silent.
“Will he ever come back? Does he even want to?” Junsu continues. “Why? Why are you quiet?! Why don’t you answer these questions?! You were the one who lured me here, seduced me into this dream - why, now then, do you hold back?!”
Hyukjae raises his eyes and the expression resting behind those glossed orbs are sympathetic, yearning, and almost regretful.
It’s him - it’s really him.
“Hyukjae!” Junsu exclaims, jumping out of his bed.
The man takes a step back, remaining the distance between them.
“Why?! Why do you bar yourself from me?!” Junsu growls. “What is the meaning of this?! Why-”
And slowly, gradually, Hyukjae starts to fade.
“No!” Junsu shouts, running towards the man he’s been longing for so strongly. “No! Hyukjae - Lee Hyukj-”
Everything fades to black.
When Junsu startles awake, all he’s left with are memories; the fragments of a dream, an illusion, that was not real.
Hyukjae was real, wasn’t he?
-
“How long has it been? Five years? Ten?”
Junsu looked up from his mug on the bar, staring into his childhood friend’s eyes. “Something like that.”
He’s drunk, drunk beyond words.
“You know, it’s funny,” Junsu chuckles meaninglessly. “Why is he doing this to me, Yesungie hyung? Why is he making me suffer like this?”
Yesung furrows his brows. “Maybe it’s not in his control.”
“Bull,” Junsu scoffs. Yesung watches as the younger boy tips over the counter, struggling to sit up straight. “You know him- he’s not simple, Yesungie hyung. Hyukjae is experienced, born and raised with skills not everyone can possess.”
The older man laughs, shaking his head. “You sure do admire him.”
“It’s the truth,” Junsu retorts, “it’s not something I can outright deny.”
“Well, why don’t you just open your eyes a little more then? Maybe then, you’d be able to see what you’ve been searching for all along.”
Junsu blinks the haze out of his eyes. It doesn’t really work, because he’s still dizzy and everything ahead of him is just a blur. Amidst the blur, though, Junsu thinks he can make Hyukjae’s face out of Yesung’s features.
Yesung is staring at something, something behind him - beyond him.
“The one in the game is always too mesmerized by the situation to see clearly around themselves,” Yesung explains, returning his gaze to Junsu. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”
“Maybe,” Junsu sulks.
The soft hiss Yesung seethes through his teeth after downing a shot sends a shiver down Junsu’s spine; it’s uncomfortable, something about Yesung has always made him uncomfortable - perhaps it’s his ability to see the invisible, to read the impossible.
Then again, Junsu has always liked those things about Yesung, too.
“I can help you,” Yesung suddenly claims.
Junsu swallows hard on his breath, trying to take another deep breath to expand his lungs. He feels nauseous. “What?”
“I can help you speak to Hyukjae, formally,” Yesung elaborates. “Without the reliance of dreams, of pseudo-realities - I can let you actually talk to him.”
“You couldn’t have told me this years ago, when I was suffering so much more?” Junsu laughs bitterly.
Yesung looks him dead in the eye. “You know that if I could, I would have.”
Junsu sighs. “I know.”
“Come with me,” Yesung stood, motioning for Junsu to follow. The younger boy took a minute to gather his balance, but managed it eventually. Yesung didn’t bother helping. “Hyukjae is in a different dimension,” he explained as they stepped out into the cold of the night.
The ground was blanketed in white. Junsu was certain December wasn’t for another two months.
“In this dimension there is no gravity, no right, and no left. There are battles - inner battles, duals, struggles, violence, torment, and no holding back. There are three original creators of this realm; one of them happens to be Hyukjae’s father.”
Junsu tries to stop walking, but his feet aren’t listening to him. He feels like he’s flying, but he can feel the ground solid beneath his feet. “The other two?” He asks.
“My father is another,” Yesung explains. “The last - well, you can say he’s someone no one would expect, a renowned personality in our own, human dimension.”
“It couldn’t be -”
Yesung shakes his head. “Let’s keep it to ourselves, shall we?”
Junsu nods.
“Hyukjae was sent here by his father, in his own place,” Yesung adds. “Ever since, he’s been rooted to these grounds; every day he fights a new battle, faces a new obstacle, but he’s never given up. You should know why. He’s reached out to you, as constantly as he can. It’s never quite enough, though.”
Suddenly the ground begins to shake and they both stop, absorbing every shiver and quake the ground produces under them.
Yesung’s expression becomes serious. “I was released, because my father made a pact with the other two creators. He gave up his share of this dimension, under the conditions that I was to be freed and we had free access to this realm as we wished.”
“He gave it up to-,” Junsu paused, “to you-know-who?”
They both glanced around their surroundings. Yesung nodded.
“Hyukjae’s father refused to surrender his share?” Junsu inquired.
Yesung responded with a positive.
“How long is he stuck here?”
“As long as it takes for him to conquer all the Worthy Warriors. I wasn’t able to tell you about this earlier because the laws were so strict, there were so many interrogators and guards, but the creators have been involved in a dilemma regarding an escapade, which is why Hyukjae has been able to synthesize pseudo-realities to contact you lately,” Yesung bites down on his bottom lip. “Here he comes.”
Junsu looks ahead and sees a shadow approaching him. When he turns to reach for Yesung, the older man has disappeared.
“Junsu?”
The voice is so easy on Junsu’s ears, so familiar, so Hyukjae. It hurts.
Hyukjae’s breath catches in his throat. “Junsu… What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk,” Junsu admits. “I… I want to talk.”
“Are you drunk?” Hyukjae quirks a brow.
Junsu lowers his eyes. He wants to be closer, closer to Hyukjae. That’s all he wants.
Hyukjae sighs, shaking his head. He knows what Junsu wants, he wants to give Junsu what he wants, but he knows it’s a lost cause - it won’t last, it won’t ever last. “You should go back.”
“I don’t want to,” Junsu frowns. He steps closer. Hyukjae steps away. Junsu reaches out before Hyukjae can even blink, but he trips over his own feet. Damn the alcohol.
Hyukjae chuckles, “clumsy as ever.”
Junsu looks up and sees the hand extended towards him. He takes it, allowing Hyukjae to pull him to his feet. Hyukjae has always swept him off his feet.
The other could easily say the same about him, too.
They look into each other’s eyes. “It’s been - what? Seven years now?” Junsu asks.
“Yeah,” Hyukjae smiles.
Their fingers are still interlocked.
“I missed you,” Hyukjae offers. “More than you can imagine.”
“Then why haven’t you come back?”
Hyukjae tilts his head, his grin ever present. “I’m working on it.”
“Then work harder,” Junsu demands. Hyukjae squeezes his hand affectionately, nodding slightly. Junsu narrows his eyes painfully, looking hard and long into Hyukjae’s eyes. “You have to come back home,” he chides, “you have to.”
The other boy smiles, all teeth and eyes. “I know. I will.”
The ground beneath them rumbles, everything around them is white - blinding, pearly white. “You have to go now,” Hyukjae nervously says, pushing Junsu forward.
Junsu stops, turning around and pulling Hyukjae into his arms. “Not without a proper goodbye,” he furrows his brow. “Who knows when the next time we’ll meet is?”
Hyukjae wraps his arms around Junsu’s waist, burying his face into Junsu’s neck. “Soon,” he promises, “very soon.”
They pull away, and Hyukjae holds a firm gaze with the other boy. He leans over, and they both close their eyes. Their lips mold together, Hyukjae’s thinner ones diffusing against Junsu’s. It’s the sweetest taste - sweetest feeling - ever.
Neither of them forget it.
By the time Junsu opens his eyes, he’s blinded by a light much stronger than the one before. The one of a chandelier. Yesung is sitting beside him.
“Happy ventures, huh?” Yesung teases.
Junsu blushes. “Where are we -” He pauses, and looks around. He can see Changmin in the distance, still surrounded by the same troupe of guests he was horded by the last time he remembered.
“So, my guess was right,” Junsu uttered.
Yesung simply nodded and stared ahead, smiling at Changmin when the younger boy turned towards them.
Junsu met eyes with Changmin and the corner of the boy’s lips lifted into a smile, raising his glass of wine and tipping his hat and nodding at the older boys.
Yesung returned the gesture.
Everything suddenly made so much sense.
So much more sense.
-----
So, on a spur, Nyx and I both really wanted Hyuksu.. and decided to do a oneshot exchange :)
kendayawind's hyuksu over here!!!
-----A/N: Okay, things made a lot more sense to Junsu - maybe not to anyone else, including me, but it made sense to Junsu, okay? ;A; This was semi-inspired by a song called 二十年 (20 Years) by 张萌萌 (Zhang Mengmeng). Love this song so, so much. Hope it wasn't too confusing =/ This is byfar the longest hyuksu I've written *^-^* Thanks for reading~ and allrise Hyuksu!!! Miss these two BFF's so much TT.TT
Check out hyuk_su for more hyuksu fics~!!
And check out raw_decision, a collab community by Nyx (kendayawind) and I ^-^ If you like Hyuksu, we have a collab Hyuksu coming up... sooner or later. :)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Hyuksu (Eunhyuk/Junsu)
Genre: AU!Supernatural, Minor!Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: I own Ciel, Nyx, and this plot. That's about it.
Summary: When dreams aren't really dreams and realities aren't really realities, there's only one thing they can do to fight forward: hope.
Warning(s): UN-BETA'D. A whole lot of incoherency. Approximately 2.9k words.
He turns in the middle of the street and stretches his neck, looking into the night sky. The sky is black-blue, clouds a dark gray and the slight glimmer of stars are hidden behind the haze.
The kids roaming around the area stare when they pass by. They are fascinated by his maroon hat, the white guise, the silky black cloak. His slim figure glows in the midst of the darkness; his glassy eyes gleaming under the moonlight.
“Are you ready to go?” He hears someone ask.
He relaxes his neck and blinks into the new pair of eyes accompanying him. “Sure,” he replies, but there is no sort of interest even vaguely existing in his tone of voice. The other watches with hesitance as he begins walking, his façade flowing at the mercy of the wind.
“Junsu,” his friend calls after him, “you’re alright, aren’t you?”
The boy name Junsu halts his steps, his shoulders frozen and his feet rooted to the ground. The question hits a spot, and he suddenly doesn’t want to do anything but sleep - or fall - anymore. “Of course I am,” he regards, lifting a gloved hand to swipe his dry lips.
It smells like whom they once belonged to; a scent mixed of smoke, alcohol and dirt. Grass.
A hand lands on his shoulder. He relaxes it and smiles behind his mask. His friend nods, giving him a light pat before walking ahead of him.
In the distance, he sees someone standing - waiting. It is not the man who had just left him; it is a man who left him long ago.
Junsu pulls his feet from the ground. His body is dying to disobey his mind - to run after the figure in the distance, the one who is awaiting him - but his body was never the one in control over him.
There’s a breeze that brushes over his ears; cold, barren. “Junsu,” a warm voice whispers to him, cradling him in the chill of the night.
Another breeze, another touch, another surreal reality.
“Junsu!” His friend hollers. “Are you coming?”
Dreams were never made to last long. “Yes!” He shouts back, picking up his pace as he sprints towards his friend. “Changmin-ah,” he mutters, “do you- do you think it’s possible for me to, you know-“
As he struggles with his words, Changmin smiles at him in understanding. “Take as long as you need, hyung.”
Changmin turns, and the next thing Junsu knows, the boy is already running off across the road, too far to reach. Junsu lowers his eyes to the ground, waiting to marvel in the warmth that he’s expecting - the warmth that’s been expecting him.
“Go,” the same voice encourages.
Junsu grins, for the first time that night. “Ironic. You were just asking me to stay.”
He’s still chilled to the bone. It’s uncomfortable. The warmth does not come.
“Are you angry with me?” Junsu inquires. His hands are clutched into fists, the gloves doing no justice in protecting his digits from the cold.
The silence is deafening.
“Hyukjae,” Junsu furrows his brows, “answer me.”
“Too far,” the voice replies, “the memories are too far away.”
Junsu frowns. “Where are you?”
“Voices,” Hyukjae continues, “they’re too loud, Junsu-ah.”
A whip of air embraces Junsu, and it is colder than it ever has been before. Junsu doesn’t understand - he supposes he will never understand Hyukjae.
“I can’t hear,” Hyukjae whimpers, the wind whipping through Junsu’s hair.
“Where are you?!” Junsu demands, thrashing a single arm into the air, as if to grab onto to something - to the something that is really just nothing.
The other does not respond again.
“Telepathy is very unbecoming of you, it always has been,” Junsu notes bitterly, gritting his teeth together. “You’re always running away - away from me, away from reality. Are you even real anymore, Hyukjae? Do you really exist - or are you just a fragment of my mind that has never been true?”
Silence, the calm breeze, and more silence. Junsu thinks he might go crazy, or already is.
“Do you look the same? The same eyes, the same lips, the same smile-“
“Why are you trying so hard to pretend?” Hyukjae accuses, “Pretending as if you remember, after all these years.”
Junsu bites down on his bottom lip. “Because I do remember,” he sighs - the sigh forms as a gust of air before his lips. It is savored by the cold current. “You are the one who has forgotten.”
“I’ve forgotten nothing but the feel of your touch,” Hyukjae claims.
“Then come back for it.”
Hyukjae returns to his silence, but this time, even the breeze is gone.
After a pensive moment of thought, Junsu simply shakes his head and runs forward.
He’s only ever known how to run forward; turning back has never been easy.
Never.
“Changmin.”
The boy turns around amidst his group of guests, wine glass in hand, turning to his friend. “Hyung.”
“I think- do you think I need help?” Junsu asks.
When Changmin realizes his friend is entirely serious when he asks the question, Changmin gives it deep consideration. “What you need isn’t help,” he reasons, “what you need is a little bit of courage.”
“How so?”
“Instead of just staying here, doing nothing but waiting, why don’t you venture out and search for him?” Changmin suggests. “Hyukjae hyung is out there somewhere - stuck, bound. He needs you.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Junsu inquires.
The tall boy shakes his head. “Not once. Have you?”
“Many times,” Junsu lowers his eyes, “too many times.”
Changmin tilts his head, his lips upturned. “Then maybe you don’t have to venture out at all,” he shrugs. As he steps away, he can hear Junsu’s advancing footsteps. He smirks knowingly. “Because he’s always been with you,” he proceeds, “in your heart.”
And here, the breeze returns. “I want him to stay there, in my heart,” Junsu smiles, “but I also want him beside me, in my arms.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait,” Changmin laughs, tipping his hat at a passerby, “or explore.”
Junsu bites on his cheek. “I don’t want to. Haven’t I waited long enough?”
Changmin simply shrugs at him.
This night, Junsu doesn’t sleep very well. He figures it’s probably that voice in his head - his nagging conscience; the one that tells him Hyukjae is the one waiting - waiting for him.
-
When he wakes up, Hyukjae is there with him. Seated across his bed, sitting at the wooden chair beside his desk; one leg is crossed over the other as the man plays with something indistinguishable in his hands.
Junsu blinks once, twice. Hyukjae is still there when he blinks a third time.
But he’s different. His clothes are nothing like what he fashioned before; long, black trousers that blazed at the ends, a baggy shirt that hung below his waist with cuts and slits, and a mantle that was the epitome of disdain.
“It’s not you,” Junsu muttered under his breath.
Hyukjae shifted his gaze from the object between his fingers to meet Junsu’s eyes. “No?” He mocks. “Then, why is there hope in your eyes?” He stands from his chair and paces arrogantly to Junsu’s bedside.
“I was fooled,” Junsu scowls.
The figure nods apprehensively, pursing his lips. “If I’m not wrong, you’re the man who can never be fooled by anyone.”
Junsu narrows his eyes.
Hyukjae bends down, eyes leveled with Junsu’s, and leans forward until the focus of Junsu’s gaze is only on him - thin lips mere inches away from the other’s lips. “Are you not?”
“I am,” Junsu agrees.
The other smirks, a smirk that picks at Junsu’s nerves. Hyukjae has never irritated Junsu so much before - ever. “So, you are fooled by an emotion.”
“A mask,” Junsu corrects.
“Is that so?” Hyukjae straightens out, smiling.
Junsu looks away. “I put myself here, didn’t I?”
“What?”
“This is a dream,” Junsu concludes, “and I put myself here.”
Hyukjae frowns. “Can you create dreams? That is the privilege of a higher power - one you do not have.”
“No, I can’t create dreams,” Junsu replied, “but I can wake myself from them. This dream, though, has gone on too long.”
“Because you long to stay here, with Hyukjae-”
Junsu turns to the other man. “Whom you are not. This dream has stretched long enough-”
“Wait!”
“I’ve been doing that all along, just waiting. I’m done with waiting!” Junsu scowls. “What do I even wait for anymore - a miracle? No, all I want is Hyukjae, for him to come back to me. Where has he gone? Why did he leave? When will he be back? Will these questions ever be answered?”
The other remains silent.
“Will he ever come back? Does he even want to?” Junsu continues. “Why? Why are you quiet?! Why don’t you answer these questions?! You were the one who lured me here, seduced me into this dream - why, now then, do you hold back?!”
Hyukjae raises his eyes and the expression resting behind those glossed orbs are sympathetic, yearning, and almost regretful.
It’s him - it’s really him.
“Hyukjae!” Junsu exclaims, jumping out of his bed.
The man takes a step back, remaining the distance between them.
“Why?! Why do you bar yourself from me?!” Junsu growls. “What is the meaning of this?! Why-”
And slowly, gradually, Hyukjae starts to fade.
“No!” Junsu shouts, running towards the man he’s been longing for so strongly. “No! Hyukjae - Lee Hyukj-”
Everything fades to black.
When Junsu startles awake, all he’s left with are memories; the fragments of a dream, an illusion, that was not real.
Hyukjae was real, wasn’t he?
-
“How long has it been? Five years? Ten?”
Junsu looked up from his mug on the bar, staring into his childhood friend’s eyes. “Something like that.”
He’s drunk, drunk beyond words.
“You know, it’s funny,” Junsu chuckles meaninglessly. “Why is he doing this to me, Yesungie hyung? Why is he making me suffer like this?”
Yesung furrows his brows. “Maybe it’s not in his control.”
“Bull,” Junsu scoffs. Yesung watches as the younger boy tips over the counter, struggling to sit up straight. “You know him- he’s not simple, Yesungie hyung. Hyukjae is experienced, born and raised with skills not everyone can possess.”
The older man laughs, shaking his head. “You sure do admire him.”
“It’s the truth,” Junsu retorts, “it’s not something I can outright deny.”
“Well, why don’t you just open your eyes a little more then? Maybe then, you’d be able to see what you’ve been searching for all along.”
Junsu blinks the haze out of his eyes. It doesn’t really work, because he’s still dizzy and everything ahead of him is just a blur. Amidst the blur, though, Junsu thinks he can make Hyukjae’s face out of Yesung’s features.
Yesung is staring at something, something behind him - beyond him.
“The one in the game is always too mesmerized by the situation to see clearly around themselves,” Yesung explains, returning his gaze to Junsu. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”
“Maybe,” Junsu sulks.
The soft hiss Yesung seethes through his teeth after downing a shot sends a shiver down Junsu’s spine; it’s uncomfortable, something about Yesung has always made him uncomfortable - perhaps it’s his ability to see the invisible, to read the impossible.
Then again, Junsu has always liked those things about Yesung, too.
“I can help you,” Yesung suddenly claims.
Junsu swallows hard on his breath, trying to take another deep breath to expand his lungs. He feels nauseous. “What?”
“I can help you speak to Hyukjae, formally,” Yesung elaborates. “Without the reliance of dreams, of pseudo-realities - I can let you actually talk to him.”
“You couldn’t have told me this years ago, when I was suffering so much more?” Junsu laughs bitterly.
Yesung looks him dead in the eye. “You know that if I could, I would have.”
Junsu sighs. “I know.”
“Come with me,” Yesung stood, motioning for Junsu to follow. The younger boy took a minute to gather his balance, but managed it eventually. Yesung didn’t bother helping. “Hyukjae is in a different dimension,” he explained as they stepped out into the cold of the night.
The ground was blanketed in white. Junsu was certain December wasn’t for another two months.
“In this dimension there is no gravity, no right, and no left. There are battles - inner battles, duals, struggles, violence, torment, and no holding back. There are three original creators of this realm; one of them happens to be Hyukjae’s father.”
Junsu tries to stop walking, but his feet aren’t listening to him. He feels like he’s flying, but he can feel the ground solid beneath his feet. “The other two?” He asks.
“My father is another,” Yesung explains. “The last - well, you can say he’s someone no one would expect, a renowned personality in our own, human dimension.”
“It couldn’t be -”
Yesung shakes his head. “Let’s keep it to ourselves, shall we?”
Junsu nods.
“Hyukjae was sent here by his father, in his own place,” Yesung adds. “Ever since, he’s been rooted to these grounds; every day he fights a new battle, faces a new obstacle, but he’s never given up. You should know why. He’s reached out to you, as constantly as he can. It’s never quite enough, though.”
Suddenly the ground begins to shake and they both stop, absorbing every shiver and quake the ground produces under them.
Yesung’s expression becomes serious. “I was released, because my father made a pact with the other two creators. He gave up his share of this dimension, under the conditions that I was to be freed and we had free access to this realm as we wished.”
“He gave it up to-,” Junsu paused, “to you-know-who?”
They both glanced around their surroundings. Yesung nodded.
“Hyukjae’s father refused to surrender his share?” Junsu inquired.
Yesung responded with a positive.
“How long is he stuck here?”
“As long as it takes for him to conquer all the Worthy Warriors. I wasn’t able to tell you about this earlier because the laws were so strict, there were so many interrogators and guards, but the creators have been involved in a dilemma regarding an escapade, which is why Hyukjae has been able to synthesize pseudo-realities to contact you lately,” Yesung bites down on his bottom lip. “Here he comes.”
Junsu looks ahead and sees a shadow approaching him. When he turns to reach for Yesung, the older man has disappeared.
“Junsu?”
The voice is so easy on Junsu’s ears, so familiar, so Hyukjae. It hurts.
Hyukjae’s breath catches in his throat. “Junsu… What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk,” Junsu admits. “I… I want to talk.”
“Are you drunk?” Hyukjae quirks a brow.
Junsu lowers his eyes. He wants to be closer, closer to Hyukjae. That’s all he wants.
Hyukjae sighs, shaking his head. He knows what Junsu wants, he wants to give Junsu what he wants, but he knows it’s a lost cause - it won’t last, it won’t ever last. “You should go back.”
“I don’t want to,” Junsu frowns. He steps closer. Hyukjae steps away. Junsu reaches out before Hyukjae can even blink, but he trips over his own feet. Damn the alcohol.
Hyukjae chuckles, “clumsy as ever.”
Junsu looks up and sees the hand extended towards him. He takes it, allowing Hyukjae to pull him to his feet. Hyukjae has always swept him off his feet.
The other could easily say the same about him, too.
They look into each other’s eyes. “It’s been - what? Seven years now?” Junsu asks.
“Yeah,” Hyukjae smiles.
Their fingers are still interlocked.
“I missed you,” Hyukjae offers. “More than you can imagine.”
“Then why haven’t you come back?”
Hyukjae tilts his head, his grin ever present. “I’m working on it.”
“Then work harder,” Junsu demands. Hyukjae squeezes his hand affectionately, nodding slightly. Junsu narrows his eyes painfully, looking hard and long into Hyukjae’s eyes. “You have to come back home,” he chides, “you have to.”
The other boy smiles, all teeth and eyes. “I know. I will.”
The ground beneath them rumbles, everything around them is white - blinding, pearly white. “You have to go now,” Hyukjae nervously says, pushing Junsu forward.
Junsu stops, turning around and pulling Hyukjae into his arms. “Not without a proper goodbye,” he furrows his brow. “Who knows when the next time we’ll meet is?”
Hyukjae wraps his arms around Junsu’s waist, burying his face into Junsu’s neck. “Soon,” he promises, “very soon.”
They pull away, and Hyukjae holds a firm gaze with the other boy. He leans over, and they both close their eyes. Their lips mold together, Hyukjae’s thinner ones diffusing against Junsu’s. It’s the sweetest taste - sweetest feeling - ever.
Neither of them forget it.
By the time Junsu opens his eyes, he’s blinded by a light much stronger than the one before. The one of a chandelier. Yesung is sitting beside him.
“Happy ventures, huh?” Yesung teases.
Junsu blushes. “Where are we -” He pauses, and looks around. He can see Changmin in the distance, still surrounded by the same troupe of guests he was horded by the last time he remembered.
“So, my guess was right,” Junsu uttered.
Yesung simply nodded and stared ahead, smiling at Changmin when the younger boy turned towards them.
Junsu met eyes with Changmin and the corner of the boy’s lips lifted into a smile, raising his glass of wine and tipping his hat and nodding at the older boys.
Yesung returned the gesture.
Everything suddenly made so much sense.
So much more sense.
-----
So, on a spur, Nyx and I both really wanted Hyuksu.. and decided to do a oneshot exchange :)
kendayawind's hyuksu over here!!!
-----A/N: Okay, things made a lot more sense to Junsu - maybe not to anyone else, including me, but it made sense to Junsu, okay? ;A; This was semi-inspired by a song called 二十年 (20 Years) by 张萌萌 (Zhang Mengmeng). Love this song so, so much. Hope it wasn't too confusing =/ This is byfar the longest hyuksu I've written *^-^* Thanks for reading~ and allrise Hyuksu!!! Miss these two BFF's so much TT.TT
Check out hyuk_su for more hyuksu fics~!!
And check out raw_decision, a collab community by Nyx (kendayawind) and I ^-^ If you like Hyuksu, we have a collab Hyuksu coming up... sooner or later. :)