[FIC] Missing a (Heart)beat
Title: Missing a (heart)beat
Pairing: MinSu, past!(broken)Jaemin
Length: 5700
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Summary: A life of wanting guaranteed certainties means less chance for taking risks. Shim Changmin always thought time, the continued presence in her wake, would mean forever. But nothing is assured with the spontaneous, carefree Kim Jaejoong and the appearance of one fiercely stubborn, lively Kim Junsu.
A/N: This was definitely challenging for me, in various ways, and I had to scrap quite a lot of ideas before I got to where I am now. I hope you can enjoy it and thank you for reading <3
Written for dbsk_secretgame.
Prompt:
When I was six years-old, I was trying to teach myself how to ride a bike. I was having a rather difficult time getting the right momentum and had a fair amount of scrapes on my knees and legs to show for my efforts. I was taking a break on the grass, bike strewn somewhat carelessly on the ground when I noticed something was coming near me.
A dark black bike with silver lightening decals and shiny reflectors whizzed by me and the boy was standing up, confident, wind blowing in his hair.
Admiration was my immediate thought.
Later on, I’d realize that I’d probably loved him a little, even then, too.
~*~*~
I’m not sure why our mothers were friends - they seemed like complete opposites, my mother being more quiet and soft-spoken while Jaejoong hyung’s was more boisterous and loud, but also very kind.
In either case, one afternoon found me fidgeting slightly as I walked with my mom, who wanted me to make more friends around the neighborhood. I didn’t see what the big deal was considering I had friends in school, but she felt I should have friends outside of school too. Playmates that I could hang out with more easily. Well, she did have a point there - most of my friends lived across town.
I still remember the front entrance, shoes lined up and then hyung’s mother pushing Jaejoong forward and sending us off to play outside. My eyes had widened considerably, realizing it was him and I remember we sat on a bench outside, somewhat awkwardly silent.
I fidgeted again, wondering what I could say, what I should say. My eyes wandered and noticed that black bike propped up against a tree. I couldn’t help my gaze and wishing I could be like that, like him, wind blowing free in my hair.
“You wanna try?” Jaejoong’s voice interrupted my thoughts when I realized I had been leaning out on the bench towards the bike and staring for a good few minutes.
“Um.”
He got up and wheeled it over.
“It’s a little tall, but should be ok.” He looked at me expectantly.
I gulped, nervous. I didn’t want him to know that I couldn’t ride a bike, but I also didn’t want to fall and look stupid.
Of course, I fell.
I felt utterly mortified and sat there, the pain vibrating through my knees and the shock of the impact making me immobile. I heard a noise, and then louder, and then laughter and I looked up to see him, eyes crinkled, hand over his mouth, summer sun tinting his hair slightly brown.
I should have hated him. But I could only watch in awe, notice how beautiful he looked when he laughed.
“Sorry! Sorry,” he managed to breathe out. “Don’t hit me. You should’ve told me. Here. I’ll teach you ‘kay?”
And so wherever he went, I would follow along on my blue bike, unsteady and wobbling slightly until I was racing him, always so desperate to beat him. The summer flew by as he would grab my hand, take me exploring, show me his usual haunts, share delicious goodies from his favorite store.
Summers were when I could be with Jaejoong hyung. That was our season, since we went to different schools and I always had some after-school activity.
That all changed in high school.
~*~*~
I was feeling every inch the gawky, too-tall, nerdy freshman despite my attempts to dress otherwise. I really, really didn’t want to be there, but Jaejoong hyung had dragged me out, demanding that I needed to go to my first high school party on my birthday. It was frigid, horribly cold in winter and there were still remnants and remainders of Valentine’s Day strewn about.
He gave me a cup of beer, told me to drink up (I still remember the bitterness and scowling but chugging it down anyway), and lead me to the dance floor as he wandered off to say hello to Yunho, who was hosting the party.
I sort of stood there, awkward, as people danced around me, bumped into me, heat and sweat in the middle of February.
“Changminah!” Jaejoong hyung grinned at me when he came back five minutes later, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Got anyone you like? I know Jung ah over there, she your type? Or how about Ga in? I remember you telling me that you thought she was really pretty.”
I didn't realize it at the time what it was. I just knew at that moment, I was pissed. Angry and frustrated. I didn’t want to be at this stupid party where I didn’t know anyone save Jaejoong hyung. I felt embarrassed and silly. I just wanted to be in a quiet place, eat some cake, and joke around with hyung, go on some long drive to the ocean like we had done last summer when he got his driver’s license.
“No. Good night, hyung.”
That was the first time I had ever walked away from Jaejoong hyung.
(It wouldn’t be the last.)
But he caught up to me, pulled me aside.
“Changminah, you alright? Did I, did I do something wrong?”
He looked honestly confused and I didn’t quite know how to put it in words. More like, I hadn’t quite realized it myself at that point.
“Hyung, I don’t want to be here, at this party, with these girls. That’s not how…” I sighed a little.
He looked baffled before a look of understanding dawned on his face.
“They should’ve been boys! Right? That’s what you mean, yeah? Um, well I know some friends I can try calling-“
I sort of wanted to smack him, so I did because he was making me try to do self-realizations when it’s my birthday, when it’s late at night and that beer was making my head swim slightly. I decided to try and change the conversation.
“Anyway. More importantly, where’s my present, hyung? Or did you forget it’s my birthday?” I tried to say it with some levity, though I had to admit, I was frankly getting disgruntled and my voice came out more accusatory than joking.
Jaejoong looked at me, confused again.
“But, those were your presents. The girls. You know, a hookup. I thought maybe you’d want to meet someone and. Well, you know.”
I gaped. Okay, maybe I should have seen that coming at the time, but I hadn’t really put it all together.
"Look hyung, I don't. I mean, thank you, but no. That's not really what I'm interested in at the moment." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
He looked very sad at that moment, like he had somehow failed miserably and I hated seeing that face on him.
I tried to grin as I hit him again, playfully on the arm.
"You, uh, you can make it up to me! Buy me that special 24-scoop ice cream desert and some dokk bokki and I'll be happy."
He whipped his head up and beamed, grabbed my hand.
"Then let's go!"
To be honest, I just wanted to be with him.
~*~*~
I'd like to think I was strong. Well. At least a functional human being who was producing meaningful output. It's amazing to think that somehow, despite what had happened junior summer, I managed to keep focused and plug along (and no, it’s not the party).
Or maybe, I was just determined never to think or feel that way ever again, so plunging myself headlong into school and college examinations seemed like a good idea. I had always been top academically, but senior year saw a transformation where ever accolade, every award of achievement was not enough and I needed to have more, to keep pushing myself to be number 1 in everything and not just be at the top 10% of the class.
The ironic thing about the whole situation was that I actually got sick on examination day. My dreams of attending Seoul National University crumbled and I just barely managed to get into (what I felt) was a lower-ranking institution.
It might seem strange, but I actually don't remember much of college. It's a blur, where I ended up studying business and accounting, when I later realized I should have gone more into International Relations, despite my slight aversion towards politics. I kept studying, doing more secretarial and treasury types of positions to develop the networks, and focused so much on these activities that by the time senior year rolled around, I found myself exhausted, burnt out, and sick.
My mother was the one who finally confronted me when they were visiting near campus and looked absolutely horrified. She demanded that I take care of myself, right then and there, to lessen activities, and to send weekly e-mails (complete with a photo of myself) or else she would force me to take a hiatus from school and live at home.
That would've been a humiliation and pain worse than death, so I dutifully lowered my activities, took care to be more healthy (I had always managed to eat pretty well, but my sleeping habits were atrocious), and started to exercise.
It wasn't easy. I was used to devoting most of my time at a desk, so taking the time to balance it out with other things seemed like a waste. But I actually found myself having more energy, feeling more uplifted than usual and discovered a love for running outdoors with music.
While my classmates were lining themselves up for internships and future jobs at the major hedgefunds, investment banks, and other financial institutions, I found myself taking a step back. Whether it was my mom's words coming back to haunt me or just finally understanding that I didn't actually want to go into some ridiculous corporate scene, I was actually contacted by a mid-sized music industry company who needed help on their finances and business organization.
It wasn't what I had expected, but it sounded interesting and the salary plus benefits were surprisingly decent for the industry.
I took the job.
~*~*~
As it is, they’ve hired someone else to join at the same time as me. I get to work early and my supervisor, Park Yoochun, shows me to my desk.
“So! Welcome, welcome. Here’s your workspace. Oh, there’s another new guy coming in to, but he’ll be under the creative director’s tutelage. Actually, he went to your school…anyway. Lemme show you what I want you to read up on and then I’m taking you guys out for lunch! Just one of the perks for showing the newbies around,” he grins.
I raise an eyebrow. My university is not really known for turning out graduates interested in the arts, so the odds of someone being from there is very low. I give Yoochun a quick nod and set my things down. I flip open the first page of the manual and start reading.
It’s 12:05PM when Yoochun finally comes by my desk and I can’t help but feel relieved. I’m much hungrier than I expected and reading the thick manual twice hasn’t been my most exciting morning.
“I know, I know, it’s not the most interesting stuff, but we need to ensure all the employees have an understanding of the basic protocols and all that jazz. We’re gonna swing by the other office to pick up Kim Junsu. He’s the other guy from your school.”
The creative director’s space is a lot more interesting, with modern art everywhere and what looks like an assortment of toys and stress balls. I see a guy staring out into space, looking less than scintillated by the open manual in front of him. My brows furrow. Surely not…?
My thoughts are dashed when Yoochun strides over to him and greets him. He suddenly jerks up (banging his knee in the process and looking embarrassed) and laughs, loud, too loud, a sort of odd, yet slightly husky noise. I cringe a bit at the volume.
“Shim! Come over here, I’ll introduce you two. Kim Junsu, this is Shim Changmin. He actually went to your school.”
Kim Junsu smiles brightly at me and shakes my outstretched hand (I resignedly had put it out for politeness’ sake) vigorously.
“Hi! I’m Kim Junsu. You went to Kyunghee too? That’s great! What did you study? When did you graduate-“
Yoochun just laughs at Junsu’s clearly evident excitement and I feel more and more annoyed. Mr. Sunshine here keeps peppering me with questions and there’s nothing more I want than food. He’s not helping my irritable mood but I’m trying very hard not to snap.
Especially in front of my supervisor.
Somehow, we manage to make it to the trendy café without me throttling Junsu.
I don’t really talk much, just nod and give short answers as I quickly finish my food. It’s not that I’m trying to be rude; I just don’t like to talk a lot in front of people I’ve only known for a short time.
It doesn’t seem to matter anyway, since Yoochun and this Kim character seem to get along just fine, joking and laughing and being silly. I feel oddly out of place and my lunch settles uncomfortably in my stomach.
I watch them as I sip my juice, the way each emotion is so clearly etched on Kim’s face while Yoochun is a bit more subtle, a bit more sly. And yet, they laugh comfortably, easily, to their eyes.
They both have very pretty lips. Kim’s is fuller though.
I’m not sure where that thought comes from, but I admit it to myself, not denying it. I’ve learned to just let those moments come and go, not berate myself or think too deeply. It’s a normal, perhaps sexual thought, the result of body hormones and chemicals.
Nothing to do with actual emotion.
~*~*~
I spend the next few weeks trying desperately not to tear out my hair. I had expected that there would be some difficulties, some things I would have to get used to, but every lunch hour has become completely unbearable.
Kim Junsu has taken it upon himself to bound to my workstation, always promptly at noon, saying it’s time for lunch and that we’re eating together.
I try to bring lunch, but that doesn’t work because he drags me out anyway and says he can buy something from the vendors.
I then try to go earlier, but that’s almost impossible with the amount of work and meetings I have to deal with in the mornings.
One time, I tried to say I already ate, but that just backfired on me as he sat in the cafeteria with Yoochun, where anyone could see if I had left the building. My day was horrible, low blood sugar, and I barely made it to my afternoon break.
In the end, I find myself going with him, listening to him talk, learn about his fraternal twin brother, his dog, how he loves soccer with a passion, his obsession with coconuts and palm trees and things tropical, and every other bit of minusciae.
I nod, give short answers, but he keeps asking about me and I find myself responding, sarcastic, slightly caustic.
“You should play soccer! We can start a team, you know? I think Yoochunsshi plays and then we could set up like an office tournament and-“
“We don’t have the time. Where would we play? The closest soccer field is an hour away.”
I seriously hate team sports; I’ve always been atrocious at them, but I would never tell Junsu that.
“Have you ever had fresh coconut milk? It’s so good! I went with my brother and we opened them, right there. They should grow coconuts here! It’d be so nice and perfect and then we could go during lunch-“
“Coconuts could not survive in this weather. How would you get one here?”
I still don’t understand his obsession with that fruit. They’re so damn hard to open anyway and the liquid isn’t that great. I remember being so sorely disappointed when I discovered I really didn’t like them all that much.
“Changminah! Have you heard this one??? It’s great. ‘To write with a broken pencil is pointless.’ Isn’t that brilliant??”
“Yeah, like I wish I were a derivative so I could be tangent to your curves. I’ve heard it before.”
I rolled my eyes but he reddened slightly (hmm, interesting), before telling me every joke in his pun book.
Before I know it, I’m actually looking forward to our lunch sessions. His smile and laugh brighten my day, pure, sunny, clear. I can’t help but smile and laugh with him, especially when he pouts.
He’s beautiful in his own way. Not that I would ever tell him that.
For once, my dreams aren’t of Kim Jaejoong, but one Kim Junsu.
~*~*~
“I’m older than you! You should treat me with some respect.”
“Respect is earned, not demanded, Junsu.”
”Hyung,” he says, exasperation and frustration all too evident. “How hard is it for you to-“
There’s a shuffle that catches our attention and I look up.
My throat goes dry.
“Changminah…” He’s changed, except not at all, those dark piercing eyes looking at me intently, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“H-hyung.” I curse myself for the waver in my voice and almost miss the look of indignation on Junsu’s face. I don’t quite know what to think, to say, to act, but somehow he manages to take control of the situation, like he always does, in his own way, with his own rhythm.
He smiles, that soft, genuine one before he glances at Junsu and it quirks to a sly grin.
“Now who is this? Where are your manners dongsaeng?”
I’m about to stammer out some semblance of a sentence when Junsu stands up abruptly.
“Kim Junsu. I work with Changmin.” He thrusts out his hand, aggression all too clear in his stance. “And you are…?”
“Kim Jaejoong.” They shake hands and I can see Junsu’s tight grasp, but Jaejoong isn’t fazed at all. “Nice to meet you. Strong grip you have there, do you work out?” His eyes rove unabashedly at Junsu’s muscles and I’m a bit surprised to see Junsu redden.
But I’m angry too. What the hell is Jaejoong hyung doing here anyway, of all places?
“Junsu, I’ll see you later in the conference room.” He doesn’t seem too happy but I ignore him, pull Jaejoong hyung outside, towards the courtyard.
I turn to him, ready to face him, arms crossed, but hyung just looks at me bemused and starts appraising me. My confidence seems to ebb away under his scrutinizing gaze and he suddenly smiles, open mouthed, like a child.
“What are you doing-“
“Changminah, you know, I missed you~” he says, like he’s been away for a few weeks and not months. He comes closer to me, hugs me.
I try not to shiver, to not make him notice just how much he still affects me. I have to deflect him and gently push him away.
“How is Yunhosshi doing?” I ask pointedly. A quizzical expression appears on his face.
“Yunho’s fine. But Changminah, I wanted to talk to you, see how you are, it feels like it’s been so long, don’t you think? We should catch up!” He cocks his head, smiles, and I can’t take it anymore.
“No. Look hyung, you can’t do this. Come back into my life like this. I-“
“I’m sorry.” Jaejoong interrupts and looks at me, genuinely contrite. I have to bite my lip. “I probably should have said that first, but I am. For everything. I. I didn’t know about it until well, actually Yunho had to tell me. Dongsaeng, I didn’t realize you had been waiting that night. And then I scolded you for not taking care of yourself and-“
“Just forget it hyung.” The memories are coming too quickly, painful, of one cold night when I waited late, needing to talk to Jaejoong hyung, deciding that this was the day, before he went off to college.
Who knew that drunken declarations of love at a senior class happy hour would mean the next day would greet me with Jaejoong hyung and Yunhosshi a happy, bashful couple as I was fighting the beginnings of a cold?
“Changminah-“
“Goodbye, Jaejoongsshi. I’d appreciate it if you never appeared in front me ever again.” I turn, not wanting him to see me break, again.
Junsu, surprisingly, doesn't ask me what happened and he hands me some files, saying we have a conference call with a new client in twenty minutes.
I almost wished he had.
~*~*~
I never had a chance to yell at him, to scream, to cry out all my frustrations, my anger, to rain harsh punches against his pale white skin to see in satisfaction the bruises form and angry welts appear.
I loved you. I fucking gave up almost twenty years of my life utterly devoted and obsessed with you, in the form of love, even if I didn't understand at all times that it was love. Did you know? I told my parents, even though I knew they wouldn't understand, try as they might, those tight lipped smiles, trying to understand what the fuck was wrong with me, but I didn't care, I had you, you were the one thing to make it all right.
~*~*~
Later that week, Junsu asks if I’d be interested in going out to a bar with some of his friends.
I say yes.
It’s a bad idea.
~*~*~
I’m spiraling. I’m well aware of this fact, know fully that I’m acting idiotic, but discarding my usual image seems insanely necessary at the moment. A shot of vodka helps quell those last reserves of self-restraint.
I laugh at almost how easy it is for me to slide back into this rhythm, finding myself in the throng of hot, sweaty bodies. It reminds me of that party, oh so long ago, but I push that thought firmly out of my head. Junsu notices me and beams, bright like the sun. He waves me over, unassuming. Completely unaware. I grin, wicked and feral.
My hands grasp his hips as my lips are at his ear.
“Let me dance with you.” It’s a command and I press my body against his, smirk when I hear the intake of breath escape his lips.
He’s good, too good with hips, and I find myself pressing closer, letting my nose and lips tease and explore his neck, my tongue lick his sweat. My fingers splay out, tease with the hem of his shirt to expose skin. Gods, is it really so easy? I need, I want, my body all too eager for satiation when it’s suddenly cold and I’m left grasping nothing.
“W-what’s gotten into you?” Junsu’s voice has an odd laughing but almost hysterical pitch, which I almost snort at when I notice just how livid he is. “You know what? Forget it. Seems like you’re enjoying yourself in the club scene. I’m sure you’ll find someone else who’ll appreciate you. You’re good looking enough.” He starts to walk away.
I’m so angry in that moment I can barely think. I just manage to grab his hand before he gets swallowed by the crowd and yank him towards me, none too gently.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought you were attracted to me, Kim Junsu. No one, no one in their right mind would spend as much time as you do trying to talk to me, to always have lunch meetings and sneak glances at me like that unless they were at least remotely interested in me.”
That isn’t quite what I had meant to say, but it’s what has been eating at me for days, weeks now. I didn’t, don’t want to ever think of anyone in that way, ever again. I don’t want that to happen again. It’s not something I could handle. My thoughts are interrupted all too quickly though.
“Being nice doesn’t mean I just want some careless fuck,” he spits out. “If I wanted that, I could’ve just come here from the very beginning, find the first drunk person I saw. But you know, I doubt you know anything, at all. Like how I know you leave early on every first Friday to go home to your sick grandmother. Or that you always make sure your parents are okay, even when they call you at the office. How meticulous you are with everything and how in secret, you hate any kind of flying insect. And how you carefully keep and wrap up those leftovers, which makes me think you have a pet.” Junsu is calm as he runs through his list. But he looks at me again in intense anger. “I invited you because I wanted to know more about you. Inside and out. Not for some casual hookup.”
My mind spins, incredulous that anyone actually noticed, especially such personal things. I’m in a daze and my grip is loose, letting Junsu easily pull away. My arm drops abruptly as I stare, watch Junsu walk away.
Fuck. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe, that I’ve been plunged in ice-cold water.
It’s happened again, even before anything definite happened.
I decide I need to take a vacation and lie in my apartment, ordering delivery and mindlessly watching movies and playing video games.
~*~*~
What actually ends up happening, after some deep thinking and tossing and turning in bed is that I go to the office on Monday, confront Junsu during lunchtime and demand that I take him out to apologize. He looks up, startled, annoyed, but grudgingly acquiesces, which I'm hoping is a positive sign.
He eats, very fast, not looking up at me once. I stare like I always do (I can't help it; he's probably the only other person I've seen who eats faster than me) but decide I need to talk about this now, get it out of the way.
“Look, I’m --“
"Changminah," as he wipes his hands on the napkin and pushes his plate away. “Just forget it. And, I won’t bother you anymore. But,” he pauses and looks at me.
“You know, you’ve never said no to me directly. And I don't see you being the indirect type to be kind, especially to me. So I think," and here he leans in with a shit-eating grin, "if you wanted to scare me off, you could’ve done it much more easily. Which means…you do want to be friends with me, to be friendly with me!"
I stare, because I've never had to deal with anyone quite like this, someone who just kept pushing and pushing.
I hate how his insightfulness can sneak in at times like these. And that he had a whole weekend to think about this.
Or maybe, I’m more frustrated at the fact that he’s gotten much closer to the truth than my own self-realizations.
How does he know me better than myself?
But he’s right. Why am I continuing to indulge him when I’m sure I could just bluntly say, I don’t want him to talk to me? I’ve done it enough times with some of the intern girls that kept flitting about and annoying me.
I don’t want to answer the question that looms in my head of why he’s different.
“Well?” He keeps grinning, as if he’s found the solution to all my problems.
“You’re a strange, strange person, hyung.” But for some reason, I’m relieved, I find myself almost wanting to smile.
He gasps and then gives me the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
“You said it!”
I shake my head vehemently, but he gloats the whole way back to the office and I can’t quite deny his claims that strongly.
~*~*~
We don’t ever talk about that one night in the club and Junsu never invites me out like that again. It’s strange, but I feel like I’m re-meeting him again, getting to know him all over.
I like to think he’s entertaining, that he makes me laugh. And his energy can be infectious, making late nights at the office bearable when deadlines are fast approaching.
I still wonder if I’ve missed chances like this in college, to make friends, to make these connections. Regret isn’t a pleasant feeling so I try not to dwell on that thought for too long.
“Changminah!” It’s our usual time for our lunch meetings, except there’s something different.
Namely, he has someone with him I’ve never seen before.
“Hyung?” I look questioningly at his new companion.
“Oh, this is Lee Hyukjae! He’s my best friend from childhood and we used to compete against each other.”
“And I’d always beat you,” Lee Hyukjae quips to which Junsu hits him on the arm.
“Liar! Pants on fire.”
“Oh my god Junsu, how old are you??”
“You didn’t deny my claim! See, he’s lying.” Junsu sticks out his tongue and laughs.
Childhood friend. And with Junsu. It’s almost a double blow, not quite sitting well with my stomach.
“Right. I’m sure you two want to have lunch together, catch up and all,” I start to say, figuring Junsu was probably here to say he couldn’t do our usual…meeting (date, I almost think).
“Wait! I wanted the three of us to go to lunch together,” Junsu exclaims, looking excited as if this is the best idea ever.
The image of Yunho flickers through my head and I grimace. Occasionally, I find myself wondering where they are, what they’re doing, but it doesn’t really matter anymore.
I can feel his gaze, hopeful and anxious and expectant.
“You should go. I have a meeting later on that I need to prepare a presentations for.” It’s a weak excuse but I’m finding I don’t want to be reminded of them, of those two, I don’t care how childish it may seem.
“But-“
“Changminah! I have some things to talk about, you free for lunch today?” Yoochun saves me and I immediately get up, eager to leave.
I’m not going to get hurt again.
~*~*~
For the rest of the week, Lee Hyukjae is with Junsu and every day, Junsu tries to convince me to go to lunch with them.
Luckily, (or unluckily) I end up having a conference call, or a presentation I need to do, or some other engagement.
There are times when I occasionally catch sight of Junsu but for some reason, I look away, I find myself ignoring him. I know it’s not logical, rational, but I can’t help myself. There’s even a time when I see him in my peripheral vision, approaching my desk during my short afternoon break, but I get up and hide in the private handicapped bathroom on the first floor.
Friday comes and goes and I’m about to leave for the day when someone nears my desk.
“Can I help you?” I ask curtly, organizing my papers on my desk.
“Why are you back to this?” he demands. I don’t look up and keep making neat piles.
“What do you mean?” My tone is perfectly civil, monotone. Uncaring.
The papers go flying, order destroyed. I snap.
“Fuck off. You go enjoy your good times with your best friend. I don’t care. Some people have actual work to do. Leave me out of your nostalgic times down memory lane.” I bark, waving him off as I start picking up the papers, still not looking at him.
He grabs my wrist and I glare at him, finally looking him in the eye and I’m surprised to see hurt, so much hurt. He schools his expression though and replaces it with a look of anger.
“If you didn’t fucking care, why do you keep avoiding me? Why do you keep pushing me away?”
I yank my hand away from his grip, rubbing at my wrist. I don’t want to answer him. I don’t want to tell him anything, I don’t want him to think I’m weak.
Something touches my cheek suddenly and I jerk away, startled.
“You’re crying,” he states, his fingertips glistening slightly with my tears.
“Shut up.” I hate him. I hate him for making me want something, for making me feel that connection again, for making me re-live such similar moments.
“Why are you crying?” Junsu’s voice is hushed, almost with a child-like curiosity and that undoes me.
“I like you. You happy? That what you want to hear? That you were right all along, that you got snobby, stuckup, anti-social, Shim Changmin to fucking like you when he hates everyone, ignores everyone else, but hell, he does a good fucking job so let’s keep him?” Fuck if I’m crying. The stupid tears keep coming, traitorous bastards.
I find myself suffocating in starched cotton, plastic buttons pressing painfully against my cheek. We don’t say anything as I stay there, cocooned in warmth and soothed by the rhythmic breathing and thump thump thump of Junsu’s heart.
“Fuck you. I didn’t want to like you either, you bastard,” he whispers, but it’s without any actual anger.
The whole thing seems so utterly ridiculous that I find myself laughing, self-deprecatingly, dry hoarse heaves that sound like I might cry again any second.
In that one moment, I forget completely about Kim Jaejoong and wrap myself in the essence of Junsu.
~*~*~
“I’m older than you! You could at least maintain some proper manners in the workplace!”
“Junsu, I technically arrived at this company before you. So actually, I’m your sunbae, even if you are older than me.”
“Arg! Why do I even try?”
“Anyway, you’re not my hyung. Not anymore. That’s a title long gone to someone else, that isn’t really a part of my life anymore. You’re Junsu. My Junsu.”
“….”
“?”
He interrupts my musings with a kiss. His lips are soft, full, and I lick them, taste them between mine, sucking on them slightly as I pull him closely, fingers gripping his shirt tight.
My heart beats fast, alive and thrumming.
Pairing: MinSu, past!(broken)Jaemin
Length: 5700
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Summary: A life of wanting guaranteed certainties means less chance for taking risks. Shim Changmin always thought time, the continued presence in her wake, would mean forever. But nothing is assured with the spontaneous, carefree Kim Jaejoong and the appearance of one fiercely stubborn, lively Kim Junsu.
A/N: This was definitely challenging for me, in various ways, and I had to scrap quite a lot of ideas before I got to where I am now. I hope you can enjoy it and thank you for reading <3
Written for dbsk_secretgame.
Prompt:
When I was six years-old, I was trying to teach myself how to ride a bike. I was having a rather difficult time getting the right momentum and had a fair amount of scrapes on my knees and legs to show for my efforts. I was taking a break on the grass, bike strewn somewhat carelessly on the ground when I noticed something was coming near me.
A dark black bike with silver lightening decals and shiny reflectors whizzed by me and the boy was standing up, confident, wind blowing in his hair.
Admiration was my immediate thought.
Later on, I’d realize that I’d probably loved him a little, even then, too.
~*~*~
I’m not sure why our mothers were friends - they seemed like complete opposites, my mother being more quiet and soft-spoken while Jaejoong hyung’s was more boisterous and loud, but also very kind.
In either case, one afternoon found me fidgeting slightly as I walked with my mom, who wanted me to make more friends around the neighborhood. I didn’t see what the big deal was considering I had friends in school, but she felt I should have friends outside of school too. Playmates that I could hang out with more easily. Well, she did have a point there - most of my friends lived across town.
I still remember the front entrance, shoes lined up and then hyung’s mother pushing Jaejoong forward and sending us off to play outside. My eyes had widened considerably, realizing it was him and I remember we sat on a bench outside, somewhat awkwardly silent.
I fidgeted again, wondering what I could say, what I should say. My eyes wandered and noticed that black bike propped up against a tree. I couldn’t help my gaze and wishing I could be like that, like him, wind blowing free in my hair.
“You wanna try?” Jaejoong’s voice interrupted my thoughts when I realized I had been leaning out on the bench towards the bike and staring for a good few minutes.
“Um.”
He got up and wheeled it over.
“It’s a little tall, but should be ok.” He looked at me expectantly.
I gulped, nervous. I didn’t want him to know that I couldn’t ride a bike, but I also didn’t want to fall and look stupid.
Of course, I fell.
I felt utterly mortified and sat there, the pain vibrating through my knees and the shock of the impact making me immobile. I heard a noise, and then louder, and then laughter and I looked up to see him, eyes crinkled, hand over his mouth, summer sun tinting his hair slightly brown.
I should have hated him. But I could only watch in awe, notice how beautiful he looked when he laughed.
“Sorry! Sorry,” he managed to breathe out. “Don’t hit me. You should’ve told me. Here. I’ll teach you ‘kay?”
And so wherever he went, I would follow along on my blue bike, unsteady and wobbling slightly until I was racing him, always so desperate to beat him. The summer flew by as he would grab my hand, take me exploring, show me his usual haunts, share delicious goodies from his favorite store.
Summers were when I could be with Jaejoong hyung. That was our season, since we went to different schools and I always had some after-school activity.
That all changed in high school.
~*~*~
I was feeling every inch the gawky, too-tall, nerdy freshman despite my attempts to dress otherwise. I really, really didn’t want to be there, but Jaejoong hyung had dragged me out, demanding that I needed to go to my first high school party on my birthday. It was frigid, horribly cold in winter and there were still remnants and remainders of Valentine’s Day strewn about.
He gave me a cup of beer, told me to drink up (I still remember the bitterness and scowling but chugging it down anyway), and lead me to the dance floor as he wandered off to say hello to Yunho, who was hosting the party.
I sort of stood there, awkward, as people danced around me, bumped into me, heat and sweat in the middle of February.
“Changminah!” Jaejoong hyung grinned at me when he came back five minutes later, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Got anyone you like? I know Jung ah over there, she your type? Or how about Ga in? I remember you telling me that you thought she was really pretty.”
I didn't realize it at the time what it was. I just knew at that moment, I was pissed. Angry and frustrated. I didn’t want to be at this stupid party where I didn’t know anyone save Jaejoong hyung. I felt embarrassed and silly. I just wanted to be in a quiet place, eat some cake, and joke around with hyung, go on some long drive to the ocean like we had done last summer when he got his driver’s license.
“No. Good night, hyung.”
That was the first time I had ever walked away from Jaejoong hyung.
(It wouldn’t be the last.)
But he caught up to me, pulled me aside.
“Changminah, you alright? Did I, did I do something wrong?”
He looked honestly confused and I didn’t quite know how to put it in words. More like, I hadn’t quite realized it myself at that point.
“Hyung, I don’t want to be here, at this party, with these girls. That’s not how…” I sighed a little.
He looked baffled before a look of understanding dawned on his face.
“They should’ve been boys! Right? That’s what you mean, yeah? Um, well I know some friends I can try calling-“
I sort of wanted to smack him, so I did because he was making me try to do self-realizations when it’s my birthday, when it’s late at night and that beer was making my head swim slightly. I decided to try and change the conversation.
“Anyway. More importantly, where’s my present, hyung? Or did you forget it’s my birthday?” I tried to say it with some levity, though I had to admit, I was frankly getting disgruntled and my voice came out more accusatory than joking.
Jaejoong looked at me, confused again.
“But, those were your presents. The girls. You know, a hookup. I thought maybe you’d want to meet someone and. Well, you know.”
I gaped. Okay, maybe I should have seen that coming at the time, but I hadn’t really put it all together.
"Look hyung, I don't. I mean, thank you, but no. That's not really what I'm interested in at the moment." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
He looked very sad at that moment, like he had somehow failed miserably and I hated seeing that face on him.
I tried to grin as I hit him again, playfully on the arm.
"You, uh, you can make it up to me! Buy me that special 24-scoop ice cream desert and some dokk bokki and I'll be happy."
He whipped his head up and beamed, grabbed my hand.
"Then let's go!"
To be honest, I just wanted to be with him.
~*~*~
I'd like to think I was strong. Well. At least a functional human being who was producing meaningful output. It's amazing to think that somehow, despite what had happened junior summer, I managed to keep focused and plug along (and no, it’s not the party).
Or maybe, I was just determined never to think or feel that way ever again, so plunging myself headlong into school and college examinations seemed like a good idea. I had always been top academically, but senior year saw a transformation where ever accolade, every award of achievement was not enough and I needed to have more, to keep pushing myself to be number 1 in everything and not just be at the top 10% of the class.
The ironic thing about the whole situation was that I actually got sick on examination day. My dreams of attending Seoul National University crumbled and I just barely managed to get into (what I felt) was a lower-ranking institution.
It might seem strange, but I actually don't remember much of college. It's a blur, where I ended up studying business and accounting, when I later realized I should have gone more into International Relations, despite my slight aversion towards politics. I kept studying, doing more secretarial and treasury types of positions to develop the networks, and focused so much on these activities that by the time senior year rolled around, I found myself exhausted, burnt out, and sick.
My mother was the one who finally confronted me when they were visiting near campus and looked absolutely horrified. She demanded that I take care of myself, right then and there, to lessen activities, and to send weekly e-mails (complete with a photo of myself) or else she would force me to take a hiatus from school and live at home.
That would've been a humiliation and pain worse than death, so I dutifully lowered my activities, took care to be more healthy (I had always managed to eat pretty well, but my sleeping habits were atrocious), and started to exercise.
It wasn't easy. I was used to devoting most of my time at a desk, so taking the time to balance it out with other things seemed like a waste. But I actually found myself having more energy, feeling more uplifted than usual and discovered a love for running outdoors with music.
While my classmates were lining themselves up for internships and future jobs at the major hedgefunds, investment banks, and other financial institutions, I found myself taking a step back. Whether it was my mom's words coming back to haunt me or just finally understanding that I didn't actually want to go into some ridiculous corporate scene, I was actually contacted by a mid-sized music industry company who needed help on their finances and business organization.
It wasn't what I had expected, but it sounded interesting and the salary plus benefits were surprisingly decent for the industry.
I took the job.
~*~*~
As it is, they’ve hired someone else to join at the same time as me. I get to work early and my supervisor, Park Yoochun, shows me to my desk.
“So! Welcome, welcome. Here’s your workspace. Oh, there’s another new guy coming in to, but he’ll be under the creative director’s tutelage. Actually, he went to your school…anyway. Lemme show you what I want you to read up on and then I’m taking you guys out for lunch! Just one of the perks for showing the newbies around,” he grins.
I raise an eyebrow. My university is not really known for turning out graduates interested in the arts, so the odds of someone being from there is very low. I give Yoochun a quick nod and set my things down. I flip open the first page of the manual and start reading.
It’s 12:05PM when Yoochun finally comes by my desk and I can’t help but feel relieved. I’m much hungrier than I expected and reading the thick manual twice hasn’t been my most exciting morning.
“I know, I know, it’s not the most interesting stuff, but we need to ensure all the employees have an understanding of the basic protocols and all that jazz. We’re gonna swing by the other office to pick up Kim Junsu. He’s the other guy from your school.”
The creative director’s space is a lot more interesting, with modern art everywhere and what looks like an assortment of toys and stress balls. I see a guy staring out into space, looking less than scintillated by the open manual in front of him. My brows furrow. Surely not…?
My thoughts are dashed when Yoochun strides over to him and greets him. He suddenly jerks up (banging his knee in the process and looking embarrassed) and laughs, loud, too loud, a sort of odd, yet slightly husky noise. I cringe a bit at the volume.
“Shim! Come over here, I’ll introduce you two. Kim Junsu, this is Shim Changmin. He actually went to your school.”
Kim Junsu smiles brightly at me and shakes my outstretched hand (I resignedly had put it out for politeness’ sake) vigorously.
“Hi! I’m Kim Junsu. You went to Kyunghee too? That’s great! What did you study? When did you graduate-“
Yoochun just laughs at Junsu’s clearly evident excitement and I feel more and more annoyed. Mr. Sunshine here keeps peppering me with questions and there’s nothing more I want than food. He’s not helping my irritable mood but I’m trying very hard not to snap.
Especially in front of my supervisor.
Somehow, we manage to make it to the trendy café without me throttling Junsu.
I don’t really talk much, just nod and give short answers as I quickly finish my food. It’s not that I’m trying to be rude; I just don’t like to talk a lot in front of people I’ve only known for a short time.
It doesn’t seem to matter anyway, since Yoochun and this Kim character seem to get along just fine, joking and laughing and being silly. I feel oddly out of place and my lunch settles uncomfortably in my stomach.
I watch them as I sip my juice, the way each emotion is so clearly etched on Kim’s face while Yoochun is a bit more subtle, a bit more sly. And yet, they laugh comfortably, easily, to their eyes.
They both have very pretty lips. Kim’s is fuller though.
I’m not sure where that thought comes from, but I admit it to myself, not denying it. I’ve learned to just let those moments come and go, not berate myself or think too deeply. It’s a normal, perhaps sexual thought, the result of body hormones and chemicals.
Nothing to do with actual emotion.
~*~*~
I spend the next few weeks trying desperately not to tear out my hair. I had expected that there would be some difficulties, some things I would have to get used to, but every lunch hour has become completely unbearable.
Kim Junsu has taken it upon himself to bound to my workstation, always promptly at noon, saying it’s time for lunch and that we’re eating together.
I try to bring lunch, but that doesn’t work because he drags me out anyway and says he can buy something from the vendors.
I then try to go earlier, but that’s almost impossible with the amount of work and meetings I have to deal with in the mornings.
One time, I tried to say I already ate, but that just backfired on me as he sat in the cafeteria with Yoochun, where anyone could see if I had left the building. My day was horrible, low blood sugar, and I barely made it to my afternoon break.
In the end, I find myself going with him, listening to him talk, learn about his fraternal twin brother, his dog, how he loves soccer with a passion, his obsession with coconuts and palm trees and things tropical, and every other bit of minusciae.
I nod, give short answers, but he keeps asking about me and I find myself responding, sarcastic, slightly caustic.
“You should play soccer! We can start a team, you know? I think Yoochunsshi plays and then we could set up like an office tournament and-“
“We don’t have the time. Where would we play? The closest soccer field is an hour away.”
I seriously hate team sports; I’ve always been atrocious at them, but I would never tell Junsu that.
“Have you ever had fresh coconut milk? It’s so good! I went with my brother and we opened them, right there. They should grow coconuts here! It’d be so nice and perfect and then we could go during lunch-“
“Coconuts could not survive in this weather. How would you get one here?”
I still don’t understand his obsession with that fruit. They’re so damn hard to open anyway and the liquid isn’t that great. I remember being so sorely disappointed when I discovered I really didn’t like them all that much.
“Changminah! Have you heard this one??? It’s great. ‘To write with a broken pencil is pointless.’ Isn’t that brilliant??”
“Yeah, like I wish I were a derivative so I could be tangent to your curves. I’ve heard it before.”
I rolled my eyes but he reddened slightly (hmm, interesting), before telling me every joke in his pun book.
Before I know it, I’m actually looking forward to our lunch sessions. His smile and laugh brighten my day, pure, sunny, clear. I can’t help but smile and laugh with him, especially when he pouts.
He’s beautiful in his own way. Not that I would ever tell him that.
For once, my dreams aren’t of Kim Jaejoong, but one Kim Junsu.
~*~*~
“I’m older than you! You should treat me with some respect.”
“Respect is earned, not demanded, Junsu.”
”Hyung,” he says, exasperation and frustration all too evident. “How hard is it for you to-“
There’s a shuffle that catches our attention and I look up.
My throat goes dry.
“Changminah…” He’s changed, except not at all, those dark piercing eyes looking at me intently, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“H-hyung.” I curse myself for the waver in my voice and almost miss the look of indignation on Junsu’s face. I don’t quite know what to think, to say, to act, but somehow he manages to take control of the situation, like he always does, in his own way, with his own rhythm.
He smiles, that soft, genuine one before he glances at Junsu and it quirks to a sly grin.
“Now who is this? Where are your manners dongsaeng?”
I’m about to stammer out some semblance of a sentence when Junsu stands up abruptly.
“Kim Junsu. I work with Changmin.” He thrusts out his hand, aggression all too clear in his stance. “And you are…?”
“Kim Jaejoong.” They shake hands and I can see Junsu’s tight grasp, but Jaejoong isn’t fazed at all. “Nice to meet you. Strong grip you have there, do you work out?” His eyes rove unabashedly at Junsu’s muscles and I’m a bit surprised to see Junsu redden.
But I’m angry too. What the hell is Jaejoong hyung doing here anyway, of all places?
“Junsu, I’ll see you later in the conference room.” He doesn’t seem too happy but I ignore him, pull Jaejoong hyung outside, towards the courtyard.
I turn to him, ready to face him, arms crossed, but hyung just looks at me bemused and starts appraising me. My confidence seems to ebb away under his scrutinizing gaze and he suddenly smiles, open mouthed, like a child.
“What are you doing-“
“Changminah, you know, I missed you~” he says, like he’s been away for a few weeks and not months. He comes closer to me, hugs me.
I try not to shiver, to not make him notice just how much he still affects me. I have to deflect him and gently push him away.
“How is Yunhosshi doing?” I ask pointedly. A quizzical expression appears on his face.
“Yunho’s fine. But Changminah, I wanted to talk to you, see how you are, it feels like it’s been so long, don’t you think? We should catch up!” He cocks his head, smiles, and I can’t take it anymore.
“No. Look hyung, you can’t do this. Come back into my life like this. I-“
“I’m sorry.” Jaejoong interrupts and looks at me, genuinely contrite. I have to bite my lip. “I probably should have said that first, but I am. For everything. I. I didn’t know about it until well, actually Yunho had to tell me. Dongsaeng, I didn’t realize you had been waiting that night. And then I scolded you for not taking care of yourself and-“
“Just forget it hyung.” The memories are coming too quickly, painful, of one cold night when I waited late, needing to talk to Jaejoong hyung, deciding that this was the day, before he went off to college.
Who knew that drunken declarations of love at a senior class happy hour would mean the next day would greet me with Jaejoong hyung and Yunhosshi a happy, bashful couple as I was fighting the beginnings of a cold?
“Changminah-“
“Goodbye, Jaejoongsshi. I’d appreciate it if you never appeared in front me ever again.” I turn, not wanting him to see me break, again.
Junsu, surprisingly, doesn't ask me what happened and he hands me some files, saying we have a conference call with a new client in twenty minutes.
I almost wished he had.
~*~*~
I never had a chance to yell at him, to scream, to cry out all my frustrations, my anger, to rain harsh punches against his pale white skin to see in satisfaction the bruises form and angry welts appear.
I loved you. I fucking gave up almost twenty years of my life utterly devoted and obsessed with you, in the form of love, even if I didn't understand at all times that it was love. Did you know? I told my parents, even though I knew they wouldn't understand, try as they might, those tight lipped smiles, trying to understand what the fuck was wrong with me, but I didn't care, I had you, you were the one thing to make it all right.
~*~*~
Later that week, Junsu asks if I’d be interested in going out to a bar with some of his friends.
I say yes.
It’s a bad idea.
~*~*~
I’m spiraling. I’m well aware of this fact, know fully that I’m acting idiotic, but discarding my usual image seems insanely necessary at the moment. A shot of vodka helps quell those last reserves of self-restraint.
I laugh at almost how easy it is for me to slide back into this rhythm, finding myself in the throng of hot, sweaty bodies. It reminds me of that party, oh so long ago, but I push that thought firmly out of my head. Junsu notices me and beams, bright like the sun. He waves me over, unassuming. Completely unaware. I grin, wicked and feral.
My hands grasp his hips as my lips are at his ear.
“Let me dance with you.” It’s a command and I press my body against his, smirk when I hear the intake of breath escape his lips.
He’s good, too good with hips, and I find myself pressing closer, letting my nose and lips tease and explore his neck, my tongue lick his sweat. My fingers splay out, tease with the hem of his shirt to expose skin. Gods, is it really so easy? I need, I want, my body all too eager for satiation when it’s suddenly cold and I’m left grasping nothing.
“W-what’s gotten into you?” Junsu’s voice has an odd laughing but almost hysterical pitch, which I almost snort at when I notice just how livid he is. “You know what? Forget it. Seems like you’re enjoying yourself in the club scene. I’m sure you’ll find someone else who’ll appreciate you. You’re good looking enough.” He starts to walk away.
I’m so angry in that moment I can barely think. I just manage to grab his hand before he gets swallowed by the crowd and yank him towards me, none too gently.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought you were attracted to me, Kim Junsu. No one, no one in their right mind would spend as much time as you do trying to talk to me, to always have lunch meetings and sneak glances at me like that unless they were at least remotely interested in me.”
That isn’t quite what I had meant to say, but it’s what has been eating at me for days, weeks now. I didn’t, don’t want to ever think of anyone in that way, ever again. I don’t want that to happen again. It’s not something I could handle. My thoughts are interrupted all too quickly though.
“Being nice doesn’t mean I just want some careless fuck,” he spits out. “If I wanted that, I could’ve just come here from the very beginning, find the first drunk person I saw. But you know, I doubt you know anything, at all. Like how I know you leave early on every first Friday to go home to your sick grandmother. Or that you always make sure your parents are okay, even when they call you at the office. How meticulous you are with everything and how in secret, you hate any kind of flying insect. And how you carefully keep and wrap up those leftovers, which makes me think you have a pet.” Junsu is calm as he runs through his list. But he looks at me again in intense anger. “I invited you because I wanted to know more about you. Inside and out. Not for some casual hookup.”
My mind spins, incredulous that anyone actually noticed, especially such personal things. I’m in a daze and my grip is loose, letting Junsu easily pull away. My arm drops abruptly as I stare, watch Junsu walk away.
Fuck. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe, that I’ve been plunged in ice-cold water.
It’s happened again, even before anything definite happened.
I decide I need to take a vacation and lie in my apartment, ordering delivery and mindlessly watching movies and playing video games.
~*~*~
What actually ends up happening, after some deep thinking and tossing and turning in bed is that I go to the office on Monday, confront Junsu during lunchtime and demand that I take him out to apologize. He looks up, startled, annoyed, but grudgingly acquiesces, which I'm hoping is a positive sign.
He eats, very fast, not looking up at me once. I stare like I always do (I can't help it; he's probably the only other person I've seen who eats faster than me) but decide I need to talk about this now, get it out of the way.
“Look, I’m --“
"Changminah," as he wipes his hands on the napkin and pushes his plate away. “Just forget it. And, I won’t bother you anymore. But,” he pauses and looks at me.
“You know, you’ve never said no to me directly. And I don't see you being the indirect type to be kind, especially to me. So I think," and here he leans in with a shit-eating grin, "if you wanted to scare me off, you could’ve done it much more easily. Which means…you do want to be friends with me, to be friendly with me!"
I stare, because I've never had to deal with anyone quite like this, someone who just kept pushing and pushing.
I hate how his insightfulness can sneak in at times like these. And that he had a whole weekend to think about this.
Or maybe, I’m more frustrated at the fact that he’s gotten much closer to the truth than my own self-realizations.
How does he know me better than myself?
But he’s right. Why am I continuing to indulge him when I’m sure I could just bluntly say, I don’t want him to talk to me? I’ve done it enough times with some of the intern girls that kept flitting about and annoying me.
I don’t want to answer the question that looms in my head of why he’s different.
“Well?” He keeps grinning, as if he’s found the solution to all my problems.
“You’re a strange, strange person, hyung.” But for some reason, I’m relieved, I find myself almost wanting to smile.
He gasps and then gives me the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
“You said it!”
I shake my head vehemently, but he gloats the whole way back to the office and I can’t quite deny his claims that strongly.
~*~*~
We don’t ever talk about that one night in the club and Junsu never invites me out like that again. It’s strange, but I feel like I’m re-meeting him again, getting to know him all over.
I like to think he’s entertaining, that he makes me laugh. And his energy can be infectious, making late nights at the office bearable when deadlines are fast approaching.
I still wonder if I’ve missed chances like this in college, to make friends, to make these connections. Regret isn’t a pleasant feeling so I try not to dwell on that thought for too long.
“Changminah!” It’s our usual time for our lunch meetings, except there’s something different.
Namely, he has someone with him I’ve never seen before.
“Hyung?” I look questioningly at his new companion.
“Oh, this is Lee Hyukjae! He’s my best friend from childhood and we used to compete against each other.”
“And I’d always beat you,” Lee Hyukjae quips to which Junsu hits him on the arm.
“Liar! Pants on fire.”
“Oh my god Junsu, how old are you??”
“You didn’t deny my claim! See, he’s lying.” Junsu sticks out his tongue and laughs.
Childhood friend. And with Junsu. It’s almost a double blow, not quite sitting well with my stomach.
“Right. I’m sure you two want to have lunch together, catch up and all,” I start to say, figuring Junsu was probably here to say he couldn’t do our usual…meeting (date, I almost think).
“Wait! I wanted the three of us to go to lunch together,” Junsu exclaims, looking excited as if this is the best idea ever.
The image of Yunho flickers through my head and I grimace. Occasionally, I find myself wondering where they are, what they’re doing, but it doesn’t really matter anymore.
I can feel his gaze, hopeful and anxious and expectant.
“You should go. I have a meeting later on that I need to prepare a presentations for.” It’s a weak excuse but I’m finding I don’t want to be reminded of them, of those two, I don’t care how childish it may seem.
“But-“
“Changminah! I have some things to talk about, you free for lunch today?” Yoochun saves me and I immediately get up, eager to leave.
I’m not going to get hurt again.
~*~*~
For the rest of the week, Lee Hyukjae is with Junsu and every day, Junsu tries to convince me to go to lunch with them.
Luckily, (or unluckily) I end up having a conference call, or a presentation I need to do, or some other engagement.
There are times when I occasionally catch sight of Junsu but for some reason, I look away, I find myself ignoring him. I know it’s not logical, rational, but I can’t help myself. There’s even a time when I see him in my peripheral vision, approaching my desk during my short afternoon break, but I get up and hide in the private handicapped bathroom on the first floor.
Friday comes and goes and I’m about to leave for the day when someone nears my desk.
“Can I help you?” I ask curtly, organizing my papers on my desk.
“Why are you back to this?” he demands. I don’t look up and keep making neat piles.
“What do you mean?” My tone is perfectly civil, monotone. Uncaring.
The papers go flying, order destroyed. I snap.
“Fuck off. You go enjoy your good times with your best friend. I don’t care. Some people have actual work to do. Leave me out of your nostalgic times down memory lane.” I bark, waving him off as I start picking up the papers, still not looking at him.
He grabs my wrist and I glare at him, finally looking him in the eye and I’m surprised to see hurt, so much hurt. He schools his expression though and replaces it with a look of anger.
“If you didn’t fucking care, why do you keep avoiding me? Why do you keep pushing me away?”
I yank my hand away from his grip, rubbing at my wrist. I don’t want to answer him. I don’t want to tell him anything, I don’t want him to think I’m weak.
Something touches my cheek suddenly and I jerk away, startled.
“You’re crying,” he states, his fingertips glistening slightly with my tears.
“Shut up.” I hate him. I hate him for making me want something, for making me feel that connection again, for making me re-live such similar moments.
“Why are you crying?” Junsu’s voice is hushed, almost with a child-like curiosity and that undoes me.
“I like you. You happy? That what you want to hear? That you were right all along, that you got snobby, stuckup, anti-social, Shim Changmin to fucking like you when he hates everyone, ignores everyone else, but hell, he does a good fucking job so let’s keep him?” Fuck if I’m crying. The stupid tears keep coming, traitorous bastards.
I find myself suffocating in starched cotton, plastic buttons pressing painfully against my cheek. We don’t say anything as I stay there, cocooned in warmth and soothed by the rhythmic breathing and thump thump thump of Junsu’s heart.
“Fuck you. I didn’t want to like you either, you bastard,” he whispers, but it’s without any actual anger.
The whole thing seems so utterly ridiculous that I find myself laughing, self-deprecatingly, dry hoarse heaves that sound like I might cry again any second.
In that one moment, I forget completely about Kim Jaejoong and wrap myself in the essence of Junsu.
~*~*~
“I’m older than you! You could at least maintain some proper manners in the workplace!”
“Junsu, I technically arrived at this company before you. So actually, I’m your sunbae, even if you are older than me.”
“Arg! Why do I even try?”
“Anyway, you’re not my hyung. Not anymore. That’s a title long gone to someone else, that isn’t really a part of my life anymore. You’re Junsu. My Junsu.”
“….”
“?”
He interrupts my musings with a kiss. His lips are soft, full, and I lick them, taste them between mine, sucking on them slightly as I pull him closely, fingers gripping his shirt tight.
My heart beats fast, alive and thrumming.