Afterglow
Title: Afterglow
Pairing: YunJae, implied JaeChun
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1837
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
Summary: Because true love doesn’t mean a happy ending.
♥♥♥
‘As much as the sun that rises above you,
I'll keep you safe as much as you've waited for me, with this glaring heart,
all the dreams I've prayed for,
they're going towards you with my sincere scent,
more than the air I breathe,’
-Picture of You/Afterglow
---
“Go.”
The enunciation was almost soundless, and against sound of the waves hitting the cement, Yunho almost didn’t catch the word that now hung in the air. But now he caught it, he wished he hadn’t.
They both knew he did, though.
---
The city that they had grown up in had their memories in every corner; be it the playground they had first met or the convenience store managed by the friendly ajusshi who knew them by name.
But this - this was their special place.
It was never articulated, but it was something they both knew, something they both held dear to their hearts.
They both thought that this might just be where they fell in love.
If love for each other had happened rapidly and not gradually, if both of them had been swept off their feet in a single moment - then this had to be the place, atop the gravelly cement of the breakwater that was dusted with sand particles, and overseeing the sea with its distant ships.
---
“Ask me to stay,” Yunho breathed, turning his head sideways to the breeze to look at Jaejoong, “and I will.”
Jaejoong chuckled, not maliciously, but not joyously either. “No you won’t.” Sensing Yunho’s stare, he, too, turned to hold Yunho’s gaze, “You’d go whether I asked you to stay.”
The words I know you too well overused, unsaid, understood.
Yunho didn’t flinch; there was no accusation in Jaejoong’s voice - only longing, sadness, and acceptance in the deep raven eyes that he had gotten used to reading. He didn’t have an answer to the statement, didn’t need to have a reply, because this was Jaejoong he was with. His mind fluttered across all the different emotions that were swirling within him, finally settling on one: longing. The same longing that was reflected in Jaejoong’s eyes. It wasn’t something he decided on the spur of the moment - because like Jaejoong said, he had already decided to go - but it probably had something to do with the fact that he spent one too many moments thinking about - fixated on - how the other boy’s lips would feel against his own.
He kissed him.
---
Somehow Jaejoong knew he was going to do it. Something about the look in Yunho’s eyes, the slow seeping of the love showing in his pupils and the way the edges of his face seemed to soften as he leaned forward. Jaejoong closed his eyes, leaning a little towards Yunho.
Perhaps he had been waiting for this moment, too.
It started out soft, a flutter of butterfly wings, a tentative touch of trembling lips meeting for the first time. Slowly, it morphed into a searing contact of passion, of love that, though known, was never affirmed in words. Finally becoming a desperate battle to feel each other’s pain, wistfulness, to keep from having to break apart until the very last minute because the moment was so precious, so dear.
Because Jaejoong didn’t know if it was going to be the first and last time.
---
They broke apart for air - finally.
Yunho thought that despite the fact that they were both panting for breath at the end of it, it was still too soon. He had hoped against all hope that it was going to last forever.
But even when he tasted the saltiness of tears on Jaejoong’s lips, even as he looked up to see sooty lashes that were melded together from moisture and cheeks with a tinge of red and slightly watery eyes, it was the most beautiful image he had ever known. The touches of pink, orange, grey and blue in the clouds, the arch of rosy light across the horizon - the Jaejoong sporting an afterglow in the background was the picture he tried to memorize. Every stroke of the paintbrush on the canvas of the skies, every curve, every angle and every dip of Jaejoong’s profile.
Jaejoong was doing the same, he knew.
They stood for a long time, eyes scouring over each other - both in understanding and without need for explanation - before a quiet resignation fell over them, just like darkness had. Then they joined hands and took the long - but not long enough, never long enough - walk back home.
Jaejoong wasn’t selfish enough to ask him to stay, and Yunho wasn’t selfish enough to ask him to wait. And they were stuck at the crossroads, both unable to ask for or utter promises they didn’t know if they could keep, and stuck between hope and hopelessness.
---
“Hello?”
“Boojae? Aw, I wish I could come back! I miss you so, so much!”
“No you don’t.” He knew Yunho could hear the smile in his voice.
“But I do!” Yunho whined like a selfish kid.
---
Things were really hard.
Yunho missed every single thing about his old life. It wasn’t perfect, but it had Jae. It was hard not to want to be on the phone or on Skype with Jaejoong all the time, but gradually - and with lots of determination and willpower - he learned.
Sometimes he was kept awake by the numerous thoughts of Jaejoong hijacking his mind’s eye, and the rest of the time, he fell asleep to the picture of Jaejoong and the afterglow - looking entirely ethereal and breathtaking - that he has kept in his head (and close to his heart) all this while.
---
“Sorry Joongie, I fell asleep on you yesterday night.”
“…’s okay.”
“Sorry-Crap, I have to go. Talk to you later?”
“Oka-“ A sigh. The line was dead before he even finished the word.
---
Yunho, he knew. Jung Yunho, who he had grown up with and had spent most part of his life alongside, with exception of his diaper days. He had seen and remembered (sometimes he pretended not to, just to set Yunho’s heart at ease) all the times no one else knew of - Yunho trying to eat the red crayon when his monster of the week had been vampires (which quickly changed to the Hulk, leading to torn clothes, much to the dismay of Mrs. Jung), Yunho taking his first dance lessons when he had been uncoordinated and fell on his face more times than everyone else, Yunho acting as his friend and confidante when things at home got too hectic with so many sisters and too much estrogen. His strength and determination and care and passion and smile and charm and big, big heart. Those things, Jaejoong knew; those things, he had fallen in love with.
This U-Know he didn’t know.
---
The number you’ve dialed is engaged at the moment. Please try again later.
---
“So, U-Know Yunho, do you have a girlfr-”
Jaejoong hastily changed the frequency before the question was even finished, white noise permeating the air and filling the small room, and he was more alone than ever before.
---
The number you’ve dialed is engaged at the moment. Please try aga-
The number you’ve dialed is engaged at th-.
The numbe-
---
The calls and the video conversations had disappeared altogether. It was so, so hard to remember that this person was the same one who had kissed him. He couldn’t remember the feel of Yunho’s lips moving against his own and he couldn’t forget the feeling of loneliness without Yunho.
It was so ironic that what he needed to remember, he couldn’t and what he didn’t need, he recalled.
It was hard to shake off the feelings of melancholy even in his dreams, knowing that each day, Yunho moved a little farther in his career while he receded a little deeper into his past, their past.
Yunho had probably gained a love - U-Know and the stage and the audience and dance - and he, he was the only one who lost a love, lost more than a love. More than a love because Yunho had always been more than that, more than someone he loved beyond platonic terms, he was also his friend.
With Yunho fading into U-know more and more each day, it was like Jaejoong’s childhood, all his feelings, the special places they had and the bonds they used to share were dissipating along with Yunho.
Because he had to turn away from all these things to keep the ache in his heart a dull, dull pain that never faded but at least never spiked.
---
It wasn’t that Jaejoong had no other friends, really.
There, Jaejoong thought, as he tightened his grip around Yoochun’s hand. At least, at the very least, I have another friend.
Sometimes, just one too many sometimes, he felt like his bond to Yunho was thread-thin. Sometimes, the world narrowed down to darkness, to his voice in the black, unsure and hesitant, pleading and sobbing and crying for Yunho. And suddenly, the thread broke, and he knew it did only because he didn’t feel the tension in the cord anymore, couldn’t feel the tug on his wrist anymore. And every single fucking time, the incredible pain and sense of loss that filled him beyond bursting would force him to his knees with their intensities, force him to curl in on himself on the intangible surface of bottomless, untouchable black, and he’d gasp awake, gulping air that he didn’t know for sure existed anymore, face moist from the tears that he couldn’t stop, hands flying to his chest to push against his ribcage because he wasn’t sure if he was bleeding, because how can it hurt so bad if he’s okay.
And every time, Yoochun would be there in seconds - he was sure they were seconds, even though they felt like forever - within his first jerks and shudders awake, and his arms would be wrapped around his waist and his hands would be on his back, gentle and soothing. Caring, the way Yunho used to be. Words would tumble from Yoochun’s lips, murmurs of spoken comfort that Jaejoong never registered, never heard despite listening to them so many times.
Having Yoochun helped, having Yoochun made things better.
Having Yoochun made it hurt less.
And so, when Yoochun pressed his lips to his one day during lunch under the tree they always met at (because going to the canteen and seeing the table Yunho shared with him hurt), there were no fireworks behind his eyelids, no angels singing melodiously, no thing in his heart other than the pain that plagued his being, but he didn’t pull back, or push Yoochun away.
Yoochun didn’t make Yunho disappear, but Yoochun made not having Yunho hurt less. And Jaejoong couldn’t lose him, couldn’t bear not having someone take away some of this pain, so he kept him, even though Yoochun didn’t have him.
And he hated himself for it.
♥♥♥
A/N: Something I wrote a while back, but don’t have a sequel or happy ending for.
Because sometimes true love doesn’t have a happy ending.
Because I feel terrible, like the world is ending and there’s no hope and I don’t want to be around people but just want to drown myself in the happy fictional world because people are smart and brave and everything good and the universe is awesome to them.
There, my reasons for posting it.
Much angst, but still love you all., if there’s anyone left, at all :(
Pairing: YunJae, implied JaeChun
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1837
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
Summary: Because true love doesn’t mean a happy ending.
♥♥♥
‘As much as the sun that rises above you,
I'll keep you safe as much as you've waited for me, with this glaring heart,
all the dreams I've prayed for,
they're going towards you with my sincere scent,
more than the air I breathe,’
-Picture of You/Afterglow
---
“Go.”
The enunciation was almost soundless, and against sound of the waves hitting the cement, Yunho almost didn’t catch the word that now hung in the air. But now he caught it, he wished he hadn’t.
They both knew he did, though.
---
The city that they had grown up in had their memories in every corner; be it the playground they had first met or the convenience store managed by the friendly ajusshi who knew them by name.
But this - this was their special place.
It was never articulated, but it was something they both knew, something they both held dear to their hearts.
They both thought that this might just be where they fell in love.
If love for each other had happened rapidly and not gradually, if both of them had been swept off their feet in a single moment - then this had to be the place, atop the gravelly cement of the breakwater that was dusted with sand particles, and overseeing the sea with its distant ships.
---
“Ask me to stay,” Yunho breathed, turning his head sideways to the breeze to look at Jaejoong, “and I will.”
Jaejoong chuckled, not maliciously, but not joyously either. “No you won’t.” Sensing Yunho’s stare, he, too, turned to hold Yunho’s gaze, “You’d go whether I asked you to stay.”
The words I know you too well overused, unsaid, understood.
Yunho didn’t flinch; there was no accusation in Jaejoong’s voice - only longing, sadness, and acceptance in the deep raven eyes that he had gotten used to reading. He didn’t have an answer to the statement, didn’t need to have a reply, because this was Jaejoong he was with. His mind fluttered across all the different emotions that were swirling within him, finally settling on one: longing. The same longing that was reflected in Jaejoong’s eyes. It wasn’t something he decided on the spur of the moment - because like Jaejoong said, he had already decided to go - but it probably had something to do with the fact that he spent one too many moments thinking about - fixated on - how the other boy’s lips would feel against his own.
He kissed him.
---
Somehow Jaejoong knew he was going to do it. Something about the look in Yunho’s eyes, the slow seeping of the love showing in his pupils and the way the edges of his face seemed to soften as he leaned forward. Jaejoong closed his eyes, leaning a little towards Yunho.
Perhaps he had been waiting for this moment, too.
It started out soft, a flutter of butterfly wings, a tentative touch of trembling lips meeting for the first time. Slowly, it morphed into a searing contact of passion, of love that, though known, was never affirmed in words. Finally becoming a desperate battle to feel each other’s pain, wistfulness, to keep from having to break apart until the very last minute because the moment was so precious, so dear.
Because Jaejoong didn’t know if it was going to be the first and last time.
---
They broke apart for air - finally.
Yunho thought that despite the fact that they were both panting for breath at the end of it, it was still too soon. He had hoped against all hope that it was going to last forever.
But even when he tasted the saltiness of tears on Jaejoong’s lips, even as he looked up to see sooty lashes that were melded together from moisture and cheeks with a tinge of red and slightly watery eyes, it was the most beautiful image he had ever known. The touches of pink, orange, grey and blue in the clouds, the arch of rosy light across the horizon - the Jaejoong sporting an afterglow in the background was the picture he tried to memorize. Every stroke of the paintbrush on the canvas of the skies, every curve, every angle and every dip of Jaejoong’s profile.
Jaejoong was doing the same, he knew.
They stood for a long time, eyes scouring over each other - both in understanding and without need for explanation - before a quiet resignation fell over them, just like darkness had. Then they joined hands and took the long - but not long enough, never long enough - walk back home.
Jaejoong wasn’t selfish enough to ask him to stay, and Yunho wasn’t selfish enough to ask him to wait. And they were stuck at the crossroads, both unable to ask for or utter promises they didn’t know if they could keep, and stuck between hope and hopelessness.
---
“Hello?”
“Boojae? Aw, I wish I could come back! I miss you so, so much!”
“No you don’t.” He knew Yunho could hear the smile in his voice.
“But I do!” Yunho whined like a selfish kid.
---
Things were really hard.
Yunho missed every single thing about his old life. It wasn’t perfect, but it had Jae. It was hard not to want to be on the phone or on Skype with Jaejoong all the time, but gradually - and with lots of determination and willpower - he learned.
Sometimes he was kept awake by the numerous thoughts of Jaejoong hijacking his mind’s eye, and the rest of the time, he fell asleep to the picture of Jaejoong and the afterglow - looking entirely ethereal and breathtaking - that he has kept in his head (and close to his heart) all this while.
---
“Sorry Joongie, I fell asleep on you yesterday night.”
“…’s okay.”
“Sorry-Crap, I have to go. Talk to you later?”
“Oka-“ A sigh. The line was dead before he even finished the word.
---
Yunho, he knew. Jung Yunho, who he had grown up with and had spent most part of his life alongside, with exception of his diaper days. He had seen and remembered (sometimes he pretended not to, just to set Yunho’s heart at ease) all the times no one else knew of - Yunho trying to eat the red crayon when his monster of the week had been vampires (which quickly changed to the Hulk, leading to torn clothes, much to the dismay of Mrs. Jung), Yunho taking his first dance lessons when he had been uncoordinated and fell on his face more times than everyone else, Yunho acting as his friend and confidante when things at home got too hectic with so many sisters and too much estrogen. His strength and determination and care and passion and smile and charm and big, big heart. Those things, Jaejoong knew; those things, he had fallen in love with.
This U-Know he didn’t know.
---
The number you’ve dialed is engaged at the moment. Please try again later.
---
“So, U-Know Yunho, do you have a girlfr-”
Jaejoong hastily changed the frequency before the question was even finished, white noise permeating the air and filling the small room, and he was more alone than ever before.
---
The number you’ve dialed is engaged at the moment. Please try aga-
The number you’ve dialed is engaged at th-.
The numbe-
---
The calls and the video conversations had disappeared altogether. It was so, so hard to remember that this person was the same one who had kissed him. He couldn’t remember the feel of Yunho’s lips moving against his own and he couldn’t forget the feeling of loneliness without Yunho.
It was so ironic that what he needed to remember, he couldn’t and what he didn’t need, he recalled.
It was hard to shake off the feelings of melancholy even in his dreams, knowing that each day, Yunho moved a little farther in his career while he receded a little deeper into his past, their past.
Yunho had probably gained a love - U-Know and the stage and the audience and dance - and he, he was the only one who lost a love, lost more than a love. More than a love because Yunho had always been more than that, more than someone he loved beyond platonic terms, he was also his friend.
With Yunho fading into U-know more and more each day, it was like Jaejoong’s childhood, all his feelings, the special places they had and the bonds they used to share were dissipating along with Yunho.
Because he had to turn away from all these things to keep the ache in his heart a dull, dull pain that never faded but at least never spiked.
---
It wasn’t that Jaejoong had no other friends, really.
There, Jaejoong thought, as he tightened his grip around Yoochun’s hand. At least, at the very least, I have another friend.
Sometimes, just one too many sometimes, he felt like his bond to Yunho was thread-thin. Sometimes, the world narrowed down to darkness, to his voice in the black, unsure and hesitant, pleading and sobbing and crying for Yunho. And suddenly, the thread broke, and he knew it did only because he didn’t feel the tension in the cord anymore, couldn’t feel the tug on his wrist anymore. And every single fucking time, the incredible pain and sense of loss that filled him beyond bursting would force him to his knees with their intensities, force him to curl in on himself on the intangible surface of bottomless, untouchable black, and he’d gasp awake, gulping air that he didn’t know for sure existed anymore, face moist from the tears that he couldn’t stop, hands flying to his chest to push against his ribcage because he wasn’t sure if he was bleeding, because how can it hurt so bad if he’s okay.
And every time, Yoochun would be there in seconds - he was sure they were seconds, even though they felt like forever - within his first jerks and shudders awake, and his arms would be wrapped around his waist and his hands would be on his back, gentle and soothing. Caring, the way Yunho used to be. Words would tumble from Yoochun’s lips, murmurs of spoken comfort that Jaejoong never registered, never heard despite listening to them so many times.
Having Yoochun helped, having Yoochun made things better.
Having Yoochun made it hurt less.
And so, when Yoochun pressed his lips to his one day during lunch under the tree they always met at (because going to the canteen and seeing the table Yunho shared with him hurt), there were no fireworks behind his eyelids, no angels singing melodiously, no thing in his heart other than the pain that plagued his being, but he didn’t pull back, or push Yoochun away.
Yoochun didn’t make Yunho disappear, but Yoochun made not having Yunho hurt less. And Jaejoong couldn’t lose him, couldn’t bear not having someone take away some of this pain, so he kept him, even though Yoochun didn’t have him.
And he hated himself for it.
♥♥♥
A/N: Something I wrote a while back, but don’t have a sequel or happy ending for.
Because sometimes true love doesn’t have a happy ending.
Because I feel terrible, like the world is ending and there’s no hope and I don’t want to be around people but just want to drown myself in the happy fictional world because people are smart and brave and everything good and the universe is awesome to them.
There, my reasons for posting it.
Much angst, but still love you all., if there’s anyone left, at all :(