midnight visit
midnight visit
yoosu
g
romance
~706wc (un-betaed)
yoochun pays junsu a visit in the dead of the night.
midnight visit
Junsu’s on his nightly routine; the hours-long phone call to his hyung is making his left ear quite hot so he switches over to his right instead. A sudden tinkling, musical sound filters past his ears, and a frown wrinkles across his forehead. He glances at the clock- 0322 blinks back at him innocently.
He hangs up the phone, quite certain who it’ll be and not really happy about it thankyouverymuch; and waits a few seconds before-
“What did I say about personal space?” He says out loud at the intruder.
Park Yoochun shuffles into his room in the semi-darkness, deftly avoiding furniture and strewn clothes. He’s a little baffled when the thin man doesn’t answer, not liking the bowing posture the other is sporting.
“What’s up? Yoochunnie?”
Now he’s worried. He opens his arms and lets Yoochun totter and fall onto his bed, into his embrace.
“Hey-“
Then he realizes how the other’s chest is erratically heaving up and down, short and stabbing. He strains closer and recognizes the high-pitched sounds coming from Yoochun. Asthma, he thinks, a little stupefied. He winces when the man coughs, strained and suppressed.
“How long since?” He whispers. He pulls back a little, and rubs soothing circular motions at the scrunched backside. “Hey, Yoochunnie-“ he mumbles low and rubs a little harder, “how long since? Have you puffed yet?"
The man in front of him balls smaller, almost fetal-like.
“Okay. Did you bring it?” Junsu trails his toes down the legs and winces at the blatant coldness that he feels.
“No socks too. You idiot-“ He chides. He shuts up when Yoochun passes a white tube taken out from his pockets, but tsk-s all the same in resignation.
He untangles himself from Yoochun despite the low whine emitting from the other. He places the inhaler in the shaking hands, feeling a little helpless. “Puff two times. Do it.” He jabs at the wide forehead, notes the slightly warm and flushed expression, and wipes the uncomfortable creases away. “Please?” He pets the windswept hair and kisses it softly, pleased when older man complies meekly.
“What did I say about keeping warm? Your window's probably still wide open right now.” He flicks the heater on, a few degrees higher than usual. He bustles about taking out a sweater and a pair of socks from his wardrobe, feeling the other's blatant stare at him, and drops them on the bed. “Put them on. Don't comment on the colour.” He deadpans.
Yoochun doesn’t move a limb.
He sighs. He pulls the man into a sitting position and drags the fabric down the body, brushing imaginary dusts away and admires the way it fits snugly against broad shoulder. He helps with the socks, and frowns when a small box drops out of the sweatpants in between his movements. “And what did I say about smoking? ”
“-be dead faster than you can say Park Yoochun.“ The man croaks out without prompting, a small smile tugging at the corners.
“Darn right, you will.” Junsu gives him the evil eye and throws the damned thing into the dustbin. He reaches for a clean glass, wondering if he can ever break the man from his chain-smoking habit.
“Junsu-yah-“
He stops from pouring water and glances backwards, throwing a questioning look at the constipated face.
“Cold.”
He nods. He grabs at the tablets laying on his dressing table and gingerly eases himself back into the bed. “Sit up.” He waits for Yoochun to obey and feels his heart wrench in pain as he watches the trembling man push himself up vertical.
“You okay?” Satisfied with the slight nod, he puts two tablets into the pale hands and cocks his head. “Aspirin."
He watches on as the man struggles to keep the tablets down and not puke them out again, a little amused at the disgusted face Yoochun has on. He holds the waist firm and tight, murmuring sweet nothings soft and low. “Here-"
The glass changes ownership and clear water disappears in one swift motion.
“Better?”
Yoochun merely nods. “Cuddle.” He mumbles.
Junsu smiles softly. “Of course.” He pulls the man into his arms again and falls back, cushioning Yoochun with his chest. He ruffles the hair and kisses whatever he can reach.
“Sleep tight, Yoochunnie.”
ps: because i've been down with fever, flu, cough and asthma for the past three days. hope everyone is in good health. winter in india this time around has been pretty harsh on me :| i couldn't even spazz on twitter properly about junsu's comeback (with a lame name /side-eyeing so hard) and about my jyj-tvxq stash, newly arrived. chloe1910 darling, it arrived safely. brb emailing you when i feel a little better yes? :3
pps: i hope no one underestimates the seriousness of asthma (because i know some of my friends do. yes. docs-to-be they are). it sounds common enough, but try struggling to just breathe for three days, and then you can laugh. factor in the mucus plugging in your tracts, and godawful cough pressing down on your chest.... it's not fun. it's life-threatening in some conditions. so yeah. /end rants
yoosu
g
romance
~706wc (un-betaed)
yoochun pays junsu a visit in the dead of the night.
midnight visit
Junsu’s on his nightly routine; the hours-long phone call to his hyung is making his left ear quite hot so he switches over to his right instead. A sudden tinkling, musical sound filters past his ears, and a frown wrinkles across his forehead. He glances at the clock- 0322 blinks back at him innocently.
He hangs up the phone, quite certain who it’ll be and not really happy about it thankyouverymuch; and waits a few seconds before-
“What did I say about personal space?” He says out loud at the intruder.
Park Yoochun shuffles into his room in the semi-darkness, deftly avoiding furniture and strewn clothes. He’s a little baffled when the thin man doesn’t answer, not liking the bowing posture the other is sporting.
“What’s up? Yoochunnie?”
Now he’s worried. He opens his arms and lets Yoochun totter and fall onto his bed, into his embrace.
“Hey-“
Then he realizes how the other’s chest is erratically heaving up and down, short and stabbing. He strains closer and recognizes the high-pitched sounds coming from Yoochun. Asthma, he thinks, a little stupefied. He winces when the man coughs, strained and suppressed.
“How long since?” He whispers. He pulls back a little, and rubs soothing circular motions at the scrunched backside. “Hey, Yoochunnie-“ he mumbles low and rubs a little harder, “how long since? Have you puffed yet?"
The man in front of him balls smaller, almost fetal-like.
“Okay. Did you bring it?” Junsu trails his toes down the legs and winces at the blatant coldness that he feels.
“No socks too. You idiot-“ He chides. He shuts up when Yoochun passes a white tube taken out from his pockets, but tsk-s all the same in resignation.
He untangles himself from Yoochun despite the low whine emitting from the other. He places the inhaler in the shaking hands, feeling a little helpless. “Puff two times. Do it.” He jabs at the wide forehead, notes the slightly warm and flushed expression, and wipes the uncomfortable creases away. “Please?” He pets the windswept hair and kisses it softly, pleased when older man complies meekly.
“What did I say about keeping warm? Your window's probably still wide open right now.” He flicks the heater on, a few degrees higher than usual. He bustles about taking out a sweater and a pair of socks from his wardrobe, feeling the other's blatant stare at him, and drops them on the bed. “Put them on. Don't comment on the colour.” He deadpans.
Yoochun doesn’t move a limb.
He sighs. He pulls the man into a sitting position and drags the fabric down the body, brushing imaginary dusts away and admires the way it fits snugly against broad shoulder. He helps with the socks, and frowns when a small box drops out of the sweatpants in between his movements. “And what did I say about smoking? ”
“-be dead faster than you can say Park Yoochun.“ The man croaks out without prompting, a small smile tugging at the corners.
“Darn right, you will.” Junsu gives him the evil eye and throws the damned thing into the dustbin. He reaches for a clean glass, wondering if he can ever break the man from his chain-smoking habit.
“Junsu-yah-“
He stops from pouring water and glances backwards, throwing a questioning look at the constipated face.
“Cold.”
He nods. He grabs at the tablets laying on his dressing table and gingerly eases himself back into the bed. “Sit up.” He waits for Yoochun to obey and feels his heart wrench in pain as he watches the trembling man push himself up vertical.
“You okay?” Satisfied with the slight nod, he puts two tablets into the pale hands and cocks his head. “Aspirin."
He watches on as the man struggles to keep the tablets down and not puke them out again, a little amused at the disgusted face Yoochun has on. He holds the waist firm and tight, murmuring sweet nothings soft and low. “Here-"
The glass changes ownership and clear water disappears in one swift motion.
“Better?”
Yoochun merely nods. “Cuddle.” He mumbles.
Junsu smiles softly. “Of course.” He pulls the man into his arms again and falls back, cushioning Yoochun with his chest. He ruffles the hair and kisses whatever he can reach.
“Sleep tight, Yoochunnie.”
ps: because i've been down with fever, flu, cough and asthma for the past three days. hope everyone is in good health. winter in india this time around has been pretty harsh on me :| i couldn't even spazz on twitter properly about junsu's comeback (with a lame name /side-eyeing so hard) and about my jyj-tvxq stash, newly arrived. chloe1910 darling, it arrived safely. brb emailing you when i feel a little better yes? :3
pps: i hope no one underestimates the seriousness of asthma (because i know some of my friends do. yes. docs-to-be they are). it sounds common enough, but try struggling to just breathe for three days, and then you can laugh. factor in the mucus plugging in your tracts, and godawful cough pressing down on your chest.... it's not fun. it's life-threatening in some conditions. so yeah. /end rants