paper cranes: interlude iv
paper cranes (interlude iv/?)
jae-centric, jaesu
pg
angst, AU
paralysed!jae verse
jaejoong learns the price of forgiveness.
interlude iv: you and i know what it's like to be kicked down; forced to fight; but tonight we're alright; so hold up your lights; let it shine
[i]
just so you know, i'm done being mistreated like this. yoochun grumbles as he fishes out for his keys. i don't know how things turn out this way. i swear- he's leaving death threats on my phone, kim junsu! that's federal offense! be grateful i love your little bubble butt, or i would've called the cops on him right now.
junsu shrugs sheepishly and enters the house quietly, trailing behind the mumbling man, struggling a little with the bags of groceries. he can hear the older man's unfiltered opinions; strings of words like bunch of idiots and i should cut off their balls, no use at all are making his ears burn quite nicely. he knows he deserves the 'praises' wholeheartedly since he's more than relieved that yoochun has been such a rock ever since it happened. in fact, bumming around at yoochun's makes him a little detached from his little problem. but-
hyung- he calls out after setting down bags of food in the kitchen; he doesn't wait for a reply because yoochun's a lazy ass like that. will he really be okay though?
in the living room, he stands next to the window, eyes scanning across puffy clouds, down the grey tangents of buildings and resting on the little ant-like cars bumping against each other on the road. it amazes him how tiny humans are when seen from such a high place; it makes him feel as if all his worries are irrelevant and childish, petty even.
yoochun reemerges out of his room bare-chested.
my eyes, hyung- my eyes. junsu mock-winces, playful. it hurts to try and pretend things are not the way it is, but he waits for a witty comeback anyway because make-believe is not new to him-
so now you choose his nipple rings over my emaciated ribs, you traitor?
his laugh is forced, he knows that much. he tries not to be too affected by yoochun's pitying looks. he tries to ignore the fact that yoochun never answered his question.
[ii]
junsu stares at the bowl of ramen forlornly. a hand pushes his head none-too-gently with an admonishing eat, you idiot.
hyung- he turns his watery eyes on his apprehensive host, almost dribbling. there's this choking feeling right there tying his tracts tight, and he feels nauseous suddenly, his appetite gone. the bottom of his lip quivers, and he's torn whether to puke or cry. hyung, is he eating? i bet he's not eating. hyung, how bad do you think he is? hyung, can i call him? hyung, he's mad at me right? hyung, can i just go back to him please-
junsu.
he cowers under yoochun's intense stare.
you deserve much more. until he understands that, i won't let you go back to him.
but-
you're the one banging on my door at an ungodly hour, crying like a baby, blood at your sleeves. i don't know about you, but that image kind of stuck on me ever since. granted you have your own glaring faults, and the biggest one will be for getting both of you in this accident in the first place, but it wasn't your fault! frankly i'm surprised you walked out on him, i didn't expect that, but i'm glad. what's done is done, but that doesn't mean he can treat you like trash. and unless you understand that he's being a jerk, a useless douchebag right now; yes, you too kim junsu, until you understand that you deserve better, you're definitely grounded.
junsu sobs and stabs into the soggy noodles like a petulant child.
[iii]
yoochun sighs. to be honest, it gets a little tiring, having to deal with two little sissies. three rings of the doorbell and three smart raps on the door remain unanswered (yes, he confesses to be slightly paranoid, and he likes the number three), and he starts to wonder whether the inhabitant is still alive or not, a little pissed off, wondering how he could've crumbled to junsu's pitiful faces.
open the door, you little fuck. your little boyfriend's gonna breath down my neck otherwise- he mutters under his breath. sure enough; he can hear junsu flapping alone, hidden behind the walls of the stairs conveniently situated near the door.
shut up, junsu. he hisses. there's no point of you hiding, and me doing this, if you're going to be noisy!
he hears an intake of breath, and he guesses that a bulb must have flicked on in the other's brain. he slaps the wall hurriedly as a warning when he hears feet dragging along floor somewhere inside, and prays fervently that junsu can restrain himself from making any sound. the door opens-
holy shit, fucking kim jaejoong- he breathes out; shocked, sad, puzzled, all rolling into one. what the fuck happened to you?
his initial displeasure at being roped into such a messy business disappears; he's a little unnerved by the lifeless, empty eyes that meet him back. a strong stench invades his nostrils- fuck jae i'm not even going to ask is all he can muster. you little fuckers have got to stop fucking with my mind, seriously. he slaps a piece of paper into the shaking hands, eager to get away. junsu's safe at my place, as you correctly guessed. get your shit together. this is just- he's at loss for words. he shoves the staring man backwards into the house and grabs at the door, slamming it shut.
he exhales-
crazy little fuckers.
- and stalks off down the stairs. he didn't bother checking whether junsu's following.
[iv]
he's late. junsu mumbles.
he waits in front of the door, frowning at the clock on the wall as it ticks away. he fidgets and goes into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. he gulps down as if he's parched, but realizes that this is the third glass he's used within half an hour, and yoochun's not going to be pleased to see crystals unwashed in the sink. before he can wash them, the door opens with a click-
he positively runs to the living room when a tired i'm home reverberated around empty space.
how did it go how it go how did it go- he jumps onto black sofa, earning a sharp rebuke from the other. he pastes on a cute face halfheartedly.
stop trying to be cute. i won't buy it. yoochun smirks. anyway, congratulations. i've successfully stalked your boyfriend all the way. right from his apartment, to your favourite cafe, to his sister's house, and back home.
junsu smiles softly and snuggles into the crook of the shoulder.
how did he look?
yoochun's eyes are so tender that junsu just has to thank all the Higher Ups for sending him someone so precious. when he remembers how they meet; he feels as if it is of another lifetime, so near and yet so far, stored in his memories. sometimes he compares between yoochun and jaejoong, but each and every time he can conclude that yoochun's the older brother he never had, and jaejoong's the man his heart races crazily for.
better. i can't smell him anymore- yoochun dodges a resounding punch, so that means he's taken a shower since the last time i saw him then. he spent hours in the cafe, just staring at the coffee he ordered. he didn't even drink it in the end. then he'd spent some time in the lady's house. he looks good though. way, way better. he pets junsu's head like a pet, ruffling the edges softly. let's go on with part two of the plan, then.
junsu hmms and nods, not really listening. he's more content picturing jaejoong in his shining glory, clean and dapper, eyes shining with warmth and mischief, an unusual combination. unconsciously, he smiles wider.
[iv]
junsu slips the envelope containing an airplane ticket into the red box and wonders when jaejoong will receive it.
[v]
junsu pulls a beanie he snitched from jaejoong's wardrobe over his tousled hair and hands over his passport and tickets to the lady in black-and-white uniform.
he doesn't look backwards at all.
tbc
ps: if i am right, maybe there's 2 more updates to go. god bless me :")
pps: YES, ENJOY THE AMOUNT OF YOOCHUN IN HERE. I SWEAR I LOVE HIM SO VERY MUCH ;~~~~~~;
ppps: i'm sleepy. comments, crits, grammatical correction ftw! yunno, since this is unbeta-ed. and my brain is deprived of sleep rn. xD
jae-centric, jaesu
pg
angst, AU
paralysed!jae verse
jaejoong learns the price of forgiveness.
interlude iv: you and i know what it's like to be kicked down; forced to fight; but tonight we're alright; so hold up your lights; let it shine
[i]
just so you know, i'm done being mistreated like this. yoochun grumbles as he fishes out for his keys. i don't know how things turn out this way. i swear- he's leaving death threats on my phone, kim junsu! that's federal offense! be grateful i love your little bubble butt, or i would've called the cops on him right now.
junsu shrugs sheepishly and enters the house quietly, trailing behind the mumbling man, struggling a little with the bags of groceries. he can hear the older man's unfiltered opinions; strings of words like bunch of idiots and i should cut off their balls, no use at all are making his ears burn quite nicely. he knows he deserves the 'praises' wholeheartedly since he's more than relieved that yoochun has been such a rock ever since it happened. in fact, bumming around at yoochun's makes him a little detached from his little problem. but-
hyung- he calls out after setting down bags of food in the kitchen; he doesn't wait for a reply because yoochun's a lazy ass like that. will he really be okay though?
in the living room, he stands next to the window, eyes scanning across puffy clouds, down the grey tangents of buildings and resting on the little ant-like cars bumping against each other on the road. it amazes him how tiny humans are when seen from such a high place; it makes him feel as if all his worries are irrelevant and childish, petty even.
yoochun reemerges out of his room bare-chested.
my eyes, hyung- my eyes. junsu mock-winces, playful. it hurts to try and pretend things are not the way it is, but he waits for a witty comeback anyway because make-believe is not new to him-
so now you choose his nipple rings over my emaciated ribs, you traitor?
his laugh is forced, he knows that much. he tries not to be too affected by yoochun's pitying looks. he tries to ignore the fact that yoochun never answered his question.
[ii]
junsu stares at the bowl of ramen forlornly. a hand pushes his head none-too-gently with an admonishing eat, you idiot.
hyung- he turns his watery eyes on his apprehensive host, almost dribbling. there's this choking feeling right there tying his tracts tight, and he feels nauseous suddenly, his appetite gone. the bottom of his lip quivers, and he's torn whether to puke or cry. hyung, is he eating? i bet he's not eating. hyung, how bad do you think he is? hyung, can i call him? hyung, he's mad at me right? hyung, can i just go back to him please-
junsu.
he cowers under yoochun's intense stare.
you deserve much more. until he understands that, i won't let you go back to him.
but-
you're the one banging on my door at an ungodly hour, crying like a baby, blood at your sleeves. i don't know about you, but that image kind of stuck on me ever since. granted you have your own glaring faults, and the biggest one will be for getting both of you in this accident in the first place, but it wasn't your fault! frankly i'm surprised you walked out on him, i didn't expect that, but i'm glad. what's done is done, but that doesn't mean he can treat you like trash. and unless you understand that he's being a jerk, a useless douchebag right now; yes, you too kim junsu, until you understand that you deserve better, you're definitely grounded.
junsu sobs and stabs into the soggy noodles like a petulant child.
[iii]
yoochun sighs. to be honest, it gets a little tiring, having to deal with two little sissies. three rings of the doorbell and three smart raps on the door remain unanswered (yes, he confesses to be slightly paranoid, and he likes the number three), and he starts to wonder whether the inhabitant is still alive or not, a little pissed off, wondering how he could've crumbled to junsu's pitiful faces.
open the door, you little fuck. your little boyfriend's gonna breath down my neck otherwise- he mutters under his breath. sure enough; he can hear junsu flapping alone, hidden behind the walls of the stairs conveniently situated near the door.
shut up, junsu. he hisses. there's no point of you hiding, and me doing this, if you're going to be noisy!
he hears an intake of breath, and he guesses that a bulb must have flicked on in the other's brain. he slaps the wall hurriedly as a warning when he hears feet dragging along floor somewhere inside, and prays fervently that junsu can restrain himself from making any sound. the door opens-
holy shit, fucking kim jaejoong- he breathes out; shocked, sad, puzzled, all rolling into one. what the fuck happened to you?
his initial displeasure at being roped into such a messy business disappears; he's a little unnerved by the lifeless, empty eyes that meet him back. a strong stench invades his nostrils- fuck jae i'm not even going to ask is all he can muster. you little fuckers have got to stop fucking with my mind, seriously. he slaps a piece of paper into the shaking hands, eager to get away. junsu's safe at my place, as you correctly guessed. get your shit together. this is just- he's at loss for words. he shoves the staring man backwards into the house and grabs at the door, slamming it shut.
he exhales-
crazy little fuckers.
- and stalks off down the stairs. he didn't bother checking whether junsu's following.
[iv]
he's late. junsu mumbles.
he waits in front of the door, frowning at the clock on the wall as it ticks away. he fidgets and goes into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. he gulps down as if he's parched, but realizes that this is the third glass he's used within half an hour, and yoochun's not going to be pleased to see crystals unwashed in the sink. before he can wash them, the door opens with a click-
he positively runs to the living room when a tired i'm home reverberated around empty space.
how did it go how it go how did it go- he jumps onto black sofa, earning a sharp rebuke from the other. he pastes on a cute face halfheartedly.
stop trying to be cute. i won't buy it. yoochun smirks. anyway, congratulations. i've successfully stalked your boyfriend all the way. right from his apartment, to your favourite cafe, to his sister's house, and back home.
junsu smiles softly and snuggles into the crook of the shoulder.
how did he look?
yoochun's eyes are so tender that junsu just has to thank all the Higher Ups for sending him someone so precious. when he remembers how they meet; he feels as if it is of another lifetime, so near and yet so far, stored in his memories. sometimes he compares between yoochun and jaejoong, but each and every time he can conclude that yoochun's the older brother he never had, and jaejoong's the man his heart races crazily for.
better. i can't smell him anymore- yoochun dodges a resounding punch, so that means he's taken a shower since the last time i saw him then. he spent hours in the cafe, just staring at the coffee he ordered. he didn't even drink it in the end. then he'd spent some time in the lady's house. he looks good though. way, way better. he pets junsu's head like a pet, ruffling the edges softly. let's go on with part two of the plan, then.
junsu hmms and nods, not really listening. he's more content picturing jaejoong in his shining glory, clean and dapper, eyes shining with warmth and mischief, an unusual combination. unconsciously, he smiles wider.
[iv]
junsu slips the envelope containing an airplane ticket into the red box and wonders when jaejoong will receive it.
[v]
junsu pulls a beanie he snitched from jaejoong's wardrobe over his tousled hair and hands over his passport and tickets to the lady in black-and-white uniform.
he doesn't look backwards at all.
tbc
ps: if i am right, maybe there's 2 more updates to go. god bless me :")
pps: YES, ENJOY THE AMOUNT OF YOOCHUN IN HERE. I SWEAR I LOVE HIM SO VERY MUCH ;~~~~~~;
ppps: i'm sleepy. comments, crits, grammatical correction ftw! yunno, since this is unbeta-ed. and my brain is deprived of sleep rn. xD