Under So Many Layers of Glass
Title: Under So Many Layers of Glass (part 4)
Pairing: yoosu
Genre: Romance, light angst
Rating: PG14
Warning: Swearing
Length: five shot?
[note: does this part feel like it moved to fast? i'm not sure how i feel about it. let me know if you think it doesnt quite fit with the other parts]
Summary: You can only leave broken glass on the floor for so long. Then you have to start picking up the pieces again.
Days were passing again, and Yoochun had become lifeless. He was still locked behind his windows, but now he had not even the wish to look through them, let alone escape them. What would be waiting for him? Nothing.
--
“You know, if you really think you deserve to be forgiven- which I don’t agree with by the way- you should try again.” Yoochun looked up from where he sat against the wall so fast his head hurt, shocked speechless by the fact that Jaejoong was actually speaking to him. Jaejoong let out a sigh before looking at him.
“I really, really hate you for doing that to him. But I’m not stupid. That was your Dad talking wasn’t it?” Yoochun looked away instantly, feeling sick again just at the mention of the man.
“Don’t mention that bastard to me.” Jaejoong smiled wryly. He’d always hated that man.
They lapsed into silence until Yoochun slowly turned to look at Jaejoong again, his eyes questioning though he dared not voice his question. Jaejoong seemed to feel the stare, and he turned to meet Yoochun’s eyes.
“If you’re wondering why I’m talking to you, it’s because even though I hate you I know you better than that. You didn’t mean it. Besides, I want my best friend back.” There were tears forming in Yoochun’s eyes again, and Jaejoong released another sigh.
“Come here, you big baby.” Yoochun scrambled to his feet immediately, hugging Jaejoong tightly. Jaejoong laughed, almost humorous, but hugged back also. They stood there for a moment, Yoochun crying into his shoulder, before Jaejoong spoke again. “Junsu’s strong but he’s not that strong. He probably just needs to see that you really mean it.” Yoochun nodded, and Jaejoong didn’t mind that he didn’t let go. The young man in his arms wasn’t strong, not at all. But behind all his father’s windows, Yoochun had a good heart.
It was because of that heart, if nothing else, that Jaejoong felt he deserved a second chance.
--
Yoochun debated for a while about how exactly to go about a second apology, a better one, this time without a ridiculous gift. In the end, however, he was presented his chance before he was ready, and it was not in the yard. He was being driven home after school when he caught sight of Junsu walking. The young man was slouching, looking thinner and more exhausted than Yoochun had ever seen him. When the car came to a stop he opened the door and hopped out before the driver could stop him.
They had already turned a corner, so Yoochun had to run to catch up, but he made it, slowing down only when Junsu was within 20 feet of him. Junsu might have heard him, but wouldn’t expect to see Yoochun outside of school, so he didn’t turn around. Yoochun walked a little closer, then stopped.
“Junsu?” The young man froze, whirling around instantly, his attitude completely different. His mask of strength had returned. Before he could open his mouth to object Yoochun started talking. “Junsu before you say anything just listen to me. My father is an asshole and I don’t know why I ever listened to him but I didn’t mean anything that I said to you. It was all him talking, and I’ve wanted to shoot myself since I watched you walk away from me. You’ve got to believe me Junsu. I didn’t mean it. Not a word.” Junsu opened his mouth and then closed it. He still hadn’t let down his guard.
“Please believe me Junsu. I’m so, so sorry.” He was pleading with the boy now. “Please?” But Junsu had closed his eyes, was shaking his head. When he opened them again his gaze was stronger than ever.
“I don’t know you anymore, Yoochun. I can’t trust you, I just can’t.” The words did not come out as forceful as he’d hoped, but he turned anyway and began walking away again. Yoochun didn’t know what else he could say. He was about to give up again, but suddenly Junsu stopped walking and erupted into a fit of coughing. Yoochun’s eyes widened.
“Junsu?” In a second he was at the young man’s side, a hand coming to rest on the boy’s back. Junsu tried to spin around, to shove him away, but the coughing made it hard. Instead Yoochun tried to hold Junsu to him. Junsu struggled, angry that his body wasn’t cooperating.
For a second he paused, trying to get his breath back.
For a second, the warmth of Yoochun’s embrace was almost inviting.
For a second, he wanted so badly to give in.
Then he took a deep breath and punched Yoochun as hard as he could.
Yoochun stumbled back, gasping in pain, but made no attempt to protect himself. He deserved that, hell he’d wanted that, so he just stood there. If Junsu wanted to punch him then let him. Junsu was stunned momentarily by Yoochun’s acceptance of the situation. Then his anger returned. How dare Yoochun try to hold him like that? Yoochun looked up and met his eyes, still silently pleading, and Junsu felt something tug at his heart. He was vulnerable with Yoochun around. He was weak when the young man was near him. It should have been a foreign feeling, but it had been there all along, and it scared him and angered him further.
His second punch pushed Yoochun to the ground, but once again Yoochun did nothing. Junsu stood there, breathing hard from the coughing fit. His hand was still clenched in a fist, his eyes cast away from Yoochun to a random square of concrete. The silence felt heavy around them, and suddenly there were tears building behind Junsu’s eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, and he sure as hell didn’t want to do it now. Not in front of Yoochun. Turning abruptly he fled, running as fast as he could, running till he couldn’t breathe. Yoochun stayed where he was, watching Junsu leave him again, and then leaned back against the wall where he’d fallen. He closed his eyes, and tried to feel each color surface on his skin as the two new bruises formed.
--
After that Yoochun decided it would be better to give things a little time. He needed a plan, but it wasn’t easy to come up with, so he made a habit of checking on Junsu instead. Every day he would watch the yard from his window, hating the fact that even from two stories up he could still tell they weren’t playing with as much energy as before. He had disrupted all their lives, not just his own, not just Junsu’s.
The days passed by slowly for him, but something was changing. At first it seemed almost normal, but then he noticed Junsu lagging in the games, not playing as hard, not running as fast. Then Junsu simply didn’t play. Instead he sat by the wall and watched from the sidelines. Then for a few days he simply didn’t show up at all. It was after the fourth day of this new change that Yoochun couldn’t stand it anymore. Something was wrong, and he needed to know what it was.
It took him another day before he had time to get to the yard. It was getting harder now for him to fit in the space between the window and the wall, but he could still do it if he twisted his body just right. The bruises still stung as he moved, painful but not enough, he thought. He deserved so much more then just two punches.
When he reached the yard he was a little surprised to find only Eunhyuk playing, using a soccer ball he recognized. It was not the old tattered one. Eunhyuk glanced up briefly as Yoochun approached, but mostly ignored him. Yoochun watched a moment.
“You kept that?” He asked finally. Eunhyuk sighed, annoyed that Yoochun obviously wasn’t going away, but stopped, catching the ball under one foot, and turned to face him.
“Yeah. Junsu might refuse to use it, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting a brand new soccer ball go to waste.” Yoochun nodded. At least someone had benefited from it. Eunhyuk gave him a look that was half questioning and half glare. “So why are you here? You know I’m not going to play with you.”
“I thought that much would be obvious.” Eunhyuk shrugged, indicating he didn’t understand. Yoochun swallowed awkwardly, feeling like an idiot, and gazed down at the dirt under his shoes. “I want to know what’s wrong with Junsu.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Junsu.” Yoochun looked up, surprised.
“What? But he hasn’t been playing with you guys. Why would he miss out on soccer if there was nothing wrong?” Something flickered in Eunhyuk’s eyes. He hadn’t realized Yoochun had been paying attention to that.
“I don’t know. Maybe he just isn’t interested right now. He’s probably just hanging around at home or something.” At this Yoochun glared, angry.
“Eunhyuk you are his best friend. There’s no way you don’t know what’s going on.” When Eunhyuk simply shrugged Yoochun grabbed his shirt, pulling the young man closer, fists clenching angrily in the weak fabric.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? My best friend would never-“
“Your best friend? You still have one? That’s amazing, I would’ve thought they’d have all left you by now.” Yoochun nearly growled.
“The fuck does that matter? What if Junsu’s sick? He was coughing… What if he’s hurt? Why haven’t you checked on him-“ Yoochun’s hold loosened as his thoughts wandered, and Eunhyuk took the opportunity to shove him away.
“And what good would that do, Yoochun?” The change in Eunhyuk’s voice from one of defiance and indifference to one of anger and desperation made Yoochun look up. “Go check on him so I could watch him in pain? Go sit there and think about how much it sucks that I, his best friend, can’t do a god damned thing for him? If he’s sick I don’t have medicine to give him. If he’s hungry I don’t have food. If he’s thirsty I don’t have water. Even if he was freezing there is no way I could give him the only shirt I have, and what good would this ragged piece of clothing do anyway? You and I both know I don’t have the money for a doctor. Hell I don’t even have the strength to carry him to the hospital to try.” Eunhyuk looked so broken in that moment that Yoochun didn’t know how to react.
“You think it doesn’t hurt me that I’m useless, Yoochun? You really think I don’t care?” Yoochun stared at him, wondering how he could be so stupid. Of course Eunhyuk couldn’t do anything. Anger boiled in him again, but now he was simply angry at himself. Without another word he sprinted away, leaving Eunhyuk to standing there fighting back tears. Eunhyuk couldn’t do anything, but Yoochun could. And God damn him if he was going to let his father get in the way this time. So he ran as fast as he could.
--
It was getting dark by the time Yoochun reached the series of wooden structures where he remember Junsu’s house being. The air was cold and bit into his skin, the wind harsh. Winter was coming, he realized. And for a moment he wondered how he’d never thought about it before. Everyone got sick during winter, why would Junsu be any different? No amount of strength could fight off illness, and with conditions like this… It was a miracle Junsu had returned to play with him every year. A miracle he hadn’t lost him already.
It took him a while to figure out which pile of precariously placed wood was Junsu’s, but eventually he found it. He paused only momentarily, wondering what he would find, and then ducked in to the structure. Sure enough Junsu was there, curled up on the dirt floor, his arms wrapped around himself. He watched the boy’s chest rise and fall, still breathing if a bit irregularly. Thank God.
“Junsu?” The boy didn’t seem to hear him, so he crouched down, reaching out a hand to press against Junsu’s forehead. The burning warmth he felt there was a stark contrast to the cold air around him, and he almost pulled his hand back. A fever. Just a fever. Junsu’s eyes flickered open slightly, but it was clear the boy didn’t really see him. A small hand reached up and overlapped Yoochun’s, this time the contact too cold. Yoochun stayed like that a moment, before he moved.
“Just wait a little bit longer Junsu. I’m taking you home.”
--
Yoochun had never been more grateful to find that his father wasn’t home. He locked the door to his room, wondering if it would get broken down later when he refused to open it, and put Junsu in his bed. He removed the boy’s shoes, but left everything else, thinking the extra cloth might help a little to keep Junsu warm, but also a little too nervous to remove it. He realized that he’d need things he didn’t have in his room, and for a minute he wasn’t sure how to mend the problem.
He didn’t want to leave Junsu alone, he wouldn’t, but needed to get medicine and water… maybe soup also. In the end he decided he’d have to trust his brother. He remembered Yoohwan watching from the stairs as their father yelled at him. He could only hope the boy was on his side of the argument. The amount of relief he felt when Yoohwan just nodded after glancing at the young man sleeping fitfully in Yoochun’s bed was indescribable. He made a mental note to do something big for his brother later.
The night dragged on and Yoochun made himself comfortable in a chair, watching Junsu sleep. You’re a real creep, you know that? He thought to himself, but he wanted to make sure that if Junsu needed anything, he would be there to get it for him. He was sure Junsu would be angry when he woke up, but at the moment it really didn’t matter. Despite his best efforts the soft darkness in the room, lit only by starlight shining faintly through the partially opened window drapes, combined with Junsu’s breathing eventually lulled him to sleep.
In the end it didn’t matter though, because Junsu slept for a full two days. Yoohwan lied that Yoochun himself was sick, and by some miracle their father simply accepted it, leaving both boys alone.
It was on the third night that Yoochun woke to the sound of rustling sheets, the room lost in darkness. Junsu blinked, struggling to pull himself awake, and Yoochun was alert instantly, eyes glued to Junsu’s face.
“Where… am I?” He mumbled groggily. Yoochun fidgeted with his hands.
“Um, Yoochun’s Super Duper Just for Junsu Private Hospital Room?” Junsu barely registered the familiar joke. He rubbed at his eyes, glaring at Yoochun as soon as he realized who it was.
“What are you doing here, get away from…” He paused, looking around, then sat up slowly, the bed shifting a little. “Wait… am I in your room?” He looked down at the bed, one hand absently brushing over the fabric. Yoochun looked away, nodding nervously. Junsu frowned.
“How did I get here?”
“Ah, that…” Yoochun had given Junsu a slightly undignified piggy-back ride, unable to carry him any other way. Junsu shook his head.
“I shouldn’t be here.” He glanced at the bedside table, noting the small box of medication and the glass of water. “Did you say hospital room?” He remembered his fever, remembered feeling so, so cold while his head was on fire. “Oh, Yoochun…” he breathed, shoulders slumping. Had Yoochun really found him like that? He closed his eyes, leaning his head into his hands. He was too tired to feel angry. Yoochun was still watching him, apprehensive.
“You want to hit me?” Junsu shook his head without looking up, and the two sat in silence for a while. “Junsu… I really am sorry. If you’ll just give me another chance-“
“Not now, Yoochun.” Junsu looked up, and he looked so tired. “Please?” Yoochun hesitated, then nodded. More silence.
“Do you… want to take a shower? The warm water would probably help…” Junsu wanted to protest, say he felt fine and that he really didn’t need all this, that he really didn’t need help. Instead, he just nodded.
Yoochun stood up immediately and walked to his private bathroom, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up to a comfortable temperature. He didn’t realize Junsu had followed him until the young man stepped past him and under the spray, still fully clothed. He started in surprise.
“Junsu- Your clothes…” Junsu shushed him, and he paused, just watching. Junsu titled his head back, eyes closed, letting the water soak into his clothes, his skin. He breathed deeply, then turned to look back at Yoochun, water dripping down his face, all those tears he’d never cry, collecting on his eye lashes like jewels. He smiled, and reached out suddenly, grabbing Yoochun’s hand and pulling him forward also. Yoochun’s eyes widened.
“Wait-“ He stumbled, slipping and accidentally trapping Junsu between his body and the wall. They both froze, Yoochun getting drenched as well, breath mingling. Their hearts beat together, a tad too fast. Yoochun stared into Junsu’s eyes, another apology on the tip of his tongue, and then looked away, pulling back.
Junsu felt several things at once in that moment. Anger, frustration, but more importantly need, fear. He reached forward and Yoochun stopped. Arms slid slowly around his neck, settling a soft weight onto his shoulders. Small hands clenched gently into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back. The water beat against both of them, streaming down their bodies, collecting in their clothes.
Yoochun let Junsu hug him, wondering how he deserved that much. His hands lifted cautiously, coming to rest at Junsu’s sides, tangling a little in the soaked fabric of the boy’s shirt. Both closed their eyes. Yoochun tilted his head ever so slightly, their cheeks brushing. Junsu tightened his hold.
“Wait.” Junsu echoed, just a whisper. “Stay.”
--
Junsu lay in his “house” staring at the ceiling, his gaze thoughtful. He had not forgiven Yoochun. He’d had a moment of weakness, that was all. He frowned, then sighed, resolve breaking. He’d really wanted that moment of weakness to last.
He was still sick, and his still hurt, but he did feel a little better at least. He’d told Yoochun he’d leave in the morning, but in the end he only waited until the boy was asleep before sneaking out. He felt bad that Yoochun would be sleeping in the chair for nothing, but chastised himself immediately after. Here he was sleeping on a floor of dirt. Yoochun could handle a night in a chair. He shook his head. Why had he left? He should’ve used the chance to sleep in a bed for once while he still had it. But no… he couldn’t do that. He had never intended to use Yoochun for his money. Just because he felt betrayed didn’t mean he’d do it now.
His fingers played absently with the clothing he was wearing. It was Yoochun’s, as his had been completely soaked. He had promised silently that he would give them back, but now he wondered if it would be such a big deal if he just kept them. They fit better then his old ones anyway. He shook his head again, and covered his face with his hands. What was happening to him? Sleep was a long time coming.
--
When Junsu woke up finally the sun had already been out for several hours. He groaned, still cold despite the warmer clothes, once again wondering why on earth he’d decided to leave the bed he’d been offered. Somebody up there really had a sick sense of humor for making him like this. God damn him.
He rolled onto his side, intent on pushing himself up, but caught site of something that made him pause. His shack didn’t have a door, and he could clearly see someone’s legs from his position on the floor. Was someone sleeping out there? He stood up slowly, quietly, and walked out to see who it was.
He froze, surprised, when he recognized the familiar face, the same short black hair, slightly more tussled then usual. Yoochun stirred before Junsu had even managed to get his jaw working again. The young man woke up slowly, hunching his shoulder’s against the cold as his body shivered. Then he blinked and looked up at Junsu who was still gaping at him. A look of guilt crossed his face immediately. Junsu forced his mouth to close, swallowing the shocked expression and letting a more serious but slightly confused one replace it.
“Did you… sleep out here?” Yoochun shifted, once again biting his lip.
“I heard you leave last night and… I wanted to make sure you’d be ok. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me following you.” Junsu gave him a look, and he continued, eyes glued to the ground. “Also, I kind of wanted to know what it’s like for you…” He trailed off into silence. Then something amazing happened. Junsu chuckled. Yoochun looked up, and Junsu laughed again, and continued as a full fledged bought of laughter rocked up from inside him. Yoochun’s eyes widened a little, not sure what to make of it.
Still laughing Junsu slid to the ground, leaning back against his “house” on the other side of the entrance from Yoochun. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head.
“Oh, Yoochun. You are the strangest… I’m going crazy.” Yoochun felt the corner of his mouth quirk up into the beginnings of a smile, a small shy laughing escaping him as well. It was then that he noticed Junsu’s clothes. He’d forgotten he’d leant them to the boy.
“You’re still wearing my clothes.” He pointed out. Junsu reached over and pushed his shoulder, but there was little force in it.
“Shut up.” He sighed, smile fading, and looked down at his hands. “I still haven’t forgiven you.” Yoochun felt his own expression turn serious, nodding.
“I know.”
“But… if you really want to know what night can be like for me…” Junsu paused, hesitating. Did he really want to do this? He turned to look at Yoochun, eyes thoughtful. Would Yoochun want to do this? Yoochun looked back at him, waiting, and he made up his mind.
“Come back again tomorrow night. I have something to show you.”