Under So Many Layers of Glass
Title: Under So Many Layers of Glass (part 3)
Pairing: yoosu
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: PG14
Warning: Swearing
Length: five shot?
Summary: The thing about shards of broken glass is that once they get embedded in your skin, they are impossibly hard to get out.
Part 1 - http://community.livejournal.com/yoosu_yongwonhi/886271.html
Part 2 - http://community.livejournal.com/yoosu_yongwonhi/887753.html#cutid1
[Note: and here be the angst. sorry the end is kind of abrupt. part 4 soon.]
Yoochun made his way as quietly as possible down the school hallway, praying that no teacher would find him. He didn’t have the mental capacity to make up excuses. When he reached the study room he peeked in carefully, looking through the window that stood between the room and the hall. Jaejoong was leaning back in his chair, fiddling with a pencil and obviously not studying the English vocabulary laid out on his desk.
Silently Yoochun begged Jaejoong to notice him, muttering ‘look this way, look this way’ under his breath. By shear lucky coincidence Jaejoong’s pencil chose that moment to leap from his hand and onto the floor. It was in the process of picking it up that the young man spotted his friend gazing at him with pleading eyes from the hallway. The look on Yoochun’s face screamed ‘I need to talk to you’.
Jaejoong turned to the front of the classroom, his eyes finding the teacher where she sat at her desk. Placing his pencil back on his desk he stood up quietly, watching as the teacher eye’s found him immediately.
“Bathroom, Miss?” The teacher paused a moment, then nodded and went back to her work. Jaejoong bowed a little and exited the room. Yoochun didn’t wait for Jaejoong to reappear. He was already headed toward the other end of the hall. Jaejoong followed wordlessly.
--
They didn’t stop until they made it outside, leaning against the very wall that separated them from their yard on the other side. Yoochun was fairly confident no one would disturb them, and Junsu would have left by then…
Yoochun looked down at his hands, fiddling with them, refusing to meet Jaejoong’s eyes while the young man waited patiently beside him. Jaejoong was not one to prod into other peoples’ lives. He would wait until Yoochun started talking, and then he would wait until Yoochun was finished. He would listen, and then he would say what he could to help.
“Junsu…” Of course Junsu, Jaejoong thought. Of course. Yoochun frowned, remembering, his feelings muddled and confused. He had leaned in a little, he knew he had. Before he’d even been able to register what was happening, before he could control himself. His hand had risen of its own accord, reaching to touch Junsu’s cheek, to pull him closer…
But before his fingers could so much as brush Junsu’s skin he’d pulled back completely, blinking, his hand still hovering in the air, previous motive abandoned. Junsu had opened his eyes, had stared into Yoochun’s own. They’d had a whole conversation with those eyes, that gaze.
‘I… what…??’
‘I don’t know.’ A lie. ‘We… can’t play soccer today.’
‘…No.’
‘No.’
And then Junsu was pulling away from him, bag of ice sliding forgotten to the floor. There was no asking if it was ok. There was no asking how it had changed things, or how it hadn’t. Yoochun just sat there as Junsu stood up, dusting himself off, limping carefully away, trying to remember the feel of Yoochun’s warm hands, trying to keep it close. He hadn’t brought his soccer ball anyway. Yoochun licked his lips unconsciously.
“So… he kissed you?” Yoochun finally looked up. He hadn’t realized he’d started talking, but sure enough Jaejoong was looking back at him, eyes full of understanding. He nodded, expression pensive, emotions buried as far down as he could burry them. Jaejoong looked up at the sky, clouded over and grey.
“I’m not surprised, you know.” Yoochun sent a sideways glance at him. “You aren’t either, otherwise you wouldn’t be so calm.” Jaejoong paused, then chuckled a little, a wry smile on his face. “I mean think about it. Junsu is poor Yoochun. He is dirt poor. But has he ever asked you for money? For food, for anything? Not once Yoochun, not once. And maybe when he was young it was because he didn’t know to ask. You didn’t understand his world, but he never thought much about yours either. He wouldn’t have had time. And maybe for a while it was pride. He’s so strong… he tries to be at least. I’d imagine for a while he simply felt it an insult to himself to ask you. But now? After years of friendship… I wouldn’t be surprised if its because he cares for you. He doesn’t want to burden your life with his problems.” Another pause. “I’ll bet he thinks he isn’t worth it.” Because Junsu did have feelings, however much he tried to hide them. Because underneath the strong façade Junsu was just human.
Jaejoong looked back at Yoochun only to find that his friend had slunk down to the ground, his face hidden behind his hands. Jaejoong chuckled again, but this time his smile was sympathetic, comforting. He crouched down also, reaching out a hand to pry Yoochun’s hands away. He used his thumb to gently brush the beginnings of tears away from Yoochun’s eyes.
“It’s ok with me, you know.” Yoochun looked down again, confused, ashamed. “And Yoochun… Junsu is worth it. Don’t ever for a second think he isn’t.” Then Jaejoong stood again, pulling back the sleeve of his uniform to look at his watch. “I have to go. Don’t sit out here too long, ok?” Yoochun only nodded, waving him off, face hidden again.
Maybe… it could be ok?
--
Junsu made his way slowly back out of the yard to the street, cursing himself silently as he went. Stupd, stupid, stupid. What the fuck is wrong with you Junsu? He paused once he reached the sidewalk, running his hands through his hair in frustration. What made you think that was ok? And worse… what made you think he felt something too?
He fought to push back the bitter disappointment, wondering how he’d let things go this far. When had he become so helpless? Yoochun probably didn’t realize how much of an effect he had. He ‘d ruined Junsu, completely ruined him. Looking up Junsu kept his face a mask of indifference, pulling his walls back up. He scanned the street, disinterested, wondering where he should go to pass the time. He could try and find Eunhyuk to get his soccer ball back… He could use something to release his frustration anyway.
Looking down he brushed at the dirt on his clothes and was about to turn away when something caught his eye. It was Kyuhyun, curled up next to the wall. Junsu frowned.
“Kyu? What’s…” He trailed off when the young man looked up, face so much more youthful now, full of tears. Kyuhyun was shaking his head, but Junsu was focused on only one thing. A huge blue bruise was spreading across the boy’s cheek, angry and ugly. Kyuhyun had been hit. He’d been hit hard. Anger shot through Junsu’s body like a drug.
“Who did this to you Kyu? What bastard-“
“I’m sorry Junsu. I’m so sorry.” Junsu paused, frowning. Sorry? For what? Kyuhyun looked away, still talking. “He threatened to kill me Su, I couldn’t… Someone must have told them, someone must have said something and the rumor spread, somehow…” Junsu felt his insides twist.
“What are you talking about Kyuhyun?” His voice was flat, a sense of dread seeping into him. He had a horrible feeling that he knew what had happened, and he didn’t like it.
“He was asking about Yoochun, he wanted to know where he was. I told him he might be with you in the yard…” Kyuhyun was a mess, clearly angry that he hadn’t been able to escape, hadn’t been strong enough to lie. He’d never really been strong enough. But Junsu wasn’t listening anymore. Someone had seen them. Someone had seen… Oh why did it have to be today of all days? “When he came back he was so angry… I’m sorry Junsu.”
--
When Yoochun finally made his way slowly back to the front of the school he was not ready at all for the unexpected site that greeted him. Instead of the family driver it was his father who stood waiting for him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning the face of each approaching student, looking for his son. It was immediately apparent that his father was furious. Yoochun paused, frowning.
“Dad-?” But he wasn’t given time to ask the question forming on his lips. His father shot forward, grabbing his shoulder harshly and throwing him forcefully in the direction of the car.
“Get. In.” The tone said that any protest would not be appreciated. Yoochun slid into the back seat of the car, eyes wide with confusion and surprise.
What could he possibly have… done…?
--
No sooner had Yoochun’s father dragged him into his house then the argument began. Yoochun didn’t even know what it was about yet, but it didn’t take long to figure it out.
“I go looking for you just this once.” His father laughed, hard, cold. He shook his head. “Just this once, and you know what I find? That you aren’t studying at all. That as far as the teacher knows you’ve never once gone to a single study session. I was furious, but that wasn’t all was it? No, you went way beyond just skipping class. Had to beat the information out of that pathetic-“
“Who? Who did you hurt dad?” Yoochun felt his voice rising in panic. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
….and you’re going to get us both in trouble…
“Shut the fuck up Yoochun. Just how long has this been going on, huh? How many years? How many years have you and that hideous faggot-“
“Dad!”
“No Yoochun. I don’t want to hear it. You disgust me. This whole thing disgusts me. I did not raise my son to ditch school and make out with ugly gay whores. He is filth Yoochun. Nothing but filth. Never mind that he’s poor. He’s probably slept with hundreds-“
“Stop dad, stop it. You don’t know him. It’s not like that-”
“I don’t know him? I don’t know him? And I guess you do know him, don’t you? How many times have you fucked him, huh? Does he cry out like the whore he is when you do it? And how much did you pay him?” Yoochun was speechless. “Now you listen to me, and listen carefully. You are never going to see him again, you hear me? Never again. Don’t talk to him, don’t even look at him. This is all that fucker Jae’s fault isn’t it? I knew we should never have let the two of you be friends. Fucking girl needs to grow up and be a man, it’s pathetic. If I was his father-“
“Don’t you dare say anything about Jaejoong, he has nothing to do with-“ The anger and hurt was enough to knock someone unconscious, but this time Yoochun was cut off not by words but a solid punch to his stomach. His body bent double, breathing harsh from the impact and the screaming. There were tears in his eyes.
“I expect my son to show me respect, though God knows I’m not surprised you’ve forgotten how to do that too after all of this shit you’ve been messing around with. I’m going to fix this, even if I have to beat it into you. Don’t think I won’t after what you’ve done.” Yoochun crumbled to the floor in the main hallway, his father standing over him menacingly. “Look at you cry. Pathetic.” The man turned away, saying nothing to his second younger son on the stairs, who’d been watching almost the whole time. He paused only once more, turning back to Yoochun still curled in a ball on the floor to speak over his shoulder.
“Never again Yoochun. Don’t you speak to him ever again.”
Yoochun felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside.
It was not ok, not at all.
--
It was a full two weeks after that before Yoochun saw Junsu again. Long enough for an ankle to heal, but long enough also for Yoochun to disillusion himself. As Yoochun got out of the car and walked toward the school gate, his one piece of the outside world, his brief breath of real air, he could feel the weight of all his windows pressing down on him. So much heavier then before, when he hadn’t known what he could have without them.
“Yoochun?” He froze, eyes shutting, cursing himself as he recognized the voice. Why? Why? He turned slowly to face the familiar young man. He could tell Junsu was already tense, hands clenched lightly into fists at his sides, mindful of the fact that there were other people around. Yoochun swallowed.
“What are you doing here, Junsu?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as helpless as he felt. He imagined it did. Junsu was shifting his gaze around, resting it on the various people passing them to enter the school. Yoochun could feel the pressure of eyes on him. So many people watching, all of them his father.
“I was wondering where you went. I haven’t seen you in…” He paused, then met Yoochun’s eyes. “I was worried about you.” A little bit of Yoochun died inside, pain stabbing before he’d even opened his mouth. He forced the emotions back. Why, Junsu? Why are you doing this to me? What should he say? The answer was too obvious, and he hated himself for it.
Hey there Su ball. Found yourself a friend?
Junsu’s voice rang in his ears. You’re not like that. Right? You’re not them.
“I don’t know why you’d be worried about me, I’m fine. You know why you haven’t seen me.” It was a statement, not a question, but the reason was so many lies. “You’re your fault. You’re such a little slut Junsu. I mean how many people have you slept with by now huh? And you’re filthy. It’s disgusting.” It’s disgusting. His father’s words. He wanted to puke. Junsu was stunned for a moment, his mouth open in shock. For a moment Yoochun could see so clearly the pain in his eyes, in those beautiful human eyes…
“…What?”
“You’re a slut Su.” Junsu’s gaze hardened into a glare, voice deadly.
“Don’t you dare call me that.”
Jaejoong approached, looking up from the conversation he’d been having in time to hear the end of Yoochun’s comment. His eyes widened and he stepped between them.
“What the fuck Yoochun? What are you-“ Junsu pushed him aside firmly.
“Leave it Jaejoong. I see how it is.” He turned his attention back to Yoochun, and the strong, unfeeling Junsu was back, glaring with all the challenge he had, glaring right at Yoochun’s buried soul. “Shove it, Yoochun. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you and your lies and your make believe world. I always knew this would happen. You’re right, it’s my fault. I should’ve known better. You’re just like every other rich bastard. Just like them.” The words were sharp as broken glass. “Like hell if I care. Take your bullshit somewhere else. If I never see your face again it’ll be too soon.” And with that he spun on his heel, leaving them behind to process what had just happened. Yoochun wanted to die. Jaejoong was furious. He laughed.
“You know what Yoochun? Junsu might be worth it, but you don’t deserve him. Not at all.” His voice stung, salt on the wounds Junsu had already carved. “I would’ve thought my best friend would be better than this. Guess I was wrong. Congrats Chun, Junsu isn’t the only one you fooled.”
--
When Yoochun came home, shoulders slumped, head hanging, exhausted more emotionally then physically, he hardly registered his father sitting in a chair, watching him. He’d ditched school, hidden himself away and cried until he felt he had nothing in him. Then he’d thrown up until he’d started crying again. But his father couldn’t care less about that.
“I heard that faggot came to see you today. What did you say to him?” Yoochun paused. The smirk on his father’s face said it all. The man already knew perfectly well what Yoochun had said. Yoochun kept walking.
“I’m proud of you son.” The words followed him for days.
--
The thing about shards of broken glass is that once they get embedded in your skin, they are impossibly hard to get out. And Junsu was deeper under Yoochun’s skin then any shard of glass could ever be.
He knew he needed to apologize, to explain himself if it was at all possible, but his father… It took him a whole week to come up with the response ‘screw his father’ and enough determination to actually disobey the man. It took a week and a complete silent treatment from Jaejoong, but he did it.
Moving along the wall to Junsu’s yard felt foreign to him now, as if he hadn’t done it millions of times over the last 7 years. 7 years. That was what he was trying to get back, he reminded himself. 7 years.
By the time he dropped to the ground Junsu already knew. He stood facing away from him, the others all watching Yoochun carefully. They had been his friends, all of them. They had been, but he’d hurt the one that brought them together. Now only Kyuhyun had forgiveness in his eyes. Yoochun new he had to ignore all of them. He focused on the back of Junsu’s head.
“Juns-“
“What are you doing here, Yoochun?” Yoochun flinched.
“I just… Junsu I’m so sorry. I want to apologize just please let me explain, my father-“
“I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.” Yoochun felt defeat pooling in his gut. What had he done?
“Junsu…” No response. He took a step closer. Junsu tensed. “Junsu-“
“Just get out of here Yoochun. I wouldn’t want you to get any dirt on that precious rich kid uniform of yours.” This statement made Yoochun a little angry.
“Junsu you know perfectly well I don’t give a shit about-“
“Oh really?” Junsu spun around to face him suddenly. “That’s not what you said to me last time we spoke. What was it you said? Oh, that I’m filthy. That I’m a filthy little slut.” Yoochun knew he wasn’t the only one who heard Junsu’s voice crack slightly as he repeated the words. They all flinched. “Let me ask you something Yoochun, what exactly did you tell your family when you came home everyday covered in dirt, huh? How did you explain the tears in your clothes from the wall?” Yoochun shook his head, not sure what to say.
“I… I lied, but-“
“Exactly. You lied. To your parents, to your friends.” A pause, barely noticeable. “To me. As far as I’m concerned that’s the only thing you’re capable of, and I don’t need any more of it.” Yoochun sighed. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, he wasn’t sure why he expected it. Slowly he held up the gift he’d brought with him.
“At least take this? I brought it for you… I don’t know why it never occurred to me before that maybe you’d like a new one-“ Junsu laughed, staring at the shiny new soccer ball in Yoochun’s hands, but there was no real humor in it.
“You think that is going to help? What my old, tattered one isn’t good enough for you anymore? I don’t want your pity or your charity Yoochun. Just go before I hit you.” Yoochun didn’t understand, but he got the sense he’d offended Junsu even more. God, there was still so much he didn’t know. He tried one more time.
“Junsu-“
“I don’t want you’re fucking rich kid toy, now go!” Junsu ripped the ball out of Yoochun’s hands and flung it as hard as he could against the wall, wishing it would explode into a billion pieces like a piece of class. It hit the wall hard, the impact creating a sound like a firecracker, before it rebounded and rolled away out of site. For a moment no one moved, the sounds of their breathing mingling.
Yoochun took a deep, shuddering breath. And then he left.