(dbsk; fanfic) fleeting memories
Yunho/Jaejoong | pg
He hasn't the stomach to open it when it arrives.
-
He hasn't the stomach to open it when it arrives.
It sits on his coffee table and has been there for the last three weeks, unopened and ignored. He won't break the seal though sometimes the urge to look at it, read it, feels almost suffocating. If he reads it, it will be real, proof that life moves forward where it seems as if he's stood still for so many years, wishing things could go back to the way they were, worst fear validate and he's not ready for it. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready for it.
So it sits there.
Every morning he looks at it, every night he watches the light make it disappear. When he lies in bed he thinks maybe tomorrow will be the day he'll have the strength to do it, rip off the band aid, no anaesthesia, because when he does open it, the pain will be unbearable.
So it sits there.
Jaejoong's working on a new song, something he's been trying to finish but hasn't been able too. It's a heart wrenching ballad of lost love, he finds it self-deprecating and he hates that all his songs are the same. About the same thing, loathing love or trying to find it, all his songs are about being lonely and all his songs are sad.
Sometimes he wonders why he still writes when there are plenty of people in line ready to whip up a gloriously happy ballad, rejoicing, celebrating the bliss of being with the person you love. Sometimes it would just be much easier. But it would be fake, he hasn't been happy in years, when he lost him, he took all the happiness away and he's spent years, years looking for it, hoping it would come back.
Jaejoong sighs woefully as he looks over the lyrics, biting his lip in concentration before he turns the pencil over and erases the entire last verse. It's too hopeful. Delicate fingers brush the bits of wasted eraser from the sheet and he leans over reaching for his mug of tea from the coffee table. For a moment, just a brief moment his eyes drift and the smooth ivory envelope with a blood red seal steals into his line of vision.
He forgets about the tea, drops the sheet music onto the cushion beside him and clamps his hands together, looking at it. He doesn't know how much time he's spend looking at it he just knows it takes up more of his time than it should.
Jaejoong brings a hand to his mouth and rubs it across his lips, scratching his chin, pressing his palm against his cheek. He sighs and leans over the table, reaching, stretching until his fingers close around the envelope and he sits back. It's nothing flashy, delicate and simple.
Mr Kim, Jaejoong is scripted beautifully in gold lettering in the centre with care.
He allows a finger to brush over the embossed print before he scratches at his neck anxiously and rubs at his exhausted eyes. Every time he touches it, an overwhelming apprehension seems to paralyze him. His eyes burn, his body heats up and it feels like it's harder to breathe. Simply holding it, knowing what's inside makes him feel crazy.
"Just do it," he tells himself as he flips the envelope over, touching the seal, his hands moist against the fine paper, "just do it," he whispers and tries to.
But he can't, as always.
So he leans back and drops the envelope onto his lap as he brings his hands to his face and he tries to catch his breath.
When the sound of a knock bounces through the room Jaejoong turns his head and looks toward the door. He hasn't any plans with anyone so he ignores it. Something he's been doing too often and he knows his friends are starting to worry. His neglect has just recently started, ever since he got it. Ever since he's been tormented by a small envelope which will shatter the little bit of hope he has left.
His phone rings. It's Yoochun. He hits ignore.
The knock comes again, this time a little more aggressive. Jaejoong sighs and closes his eyes resting against the couch. Everyone important in his life has a key to his house, if they want to come in, they can.
So the person at the door does.
Jaejoong turns his head at the sound of his front door unlocking.
"Jaejoong? You home?"
It's Yoochun and at the first sound of his voice Jaejoong sits up and tosses the unopened invitation back on the coffee table. He grabs his discarded sheets of music and busies himself until the sound of the door closes.
"Why didn't you answer the door?"
"Oh hey," he looks up, eyes wide and innocent but Yoochun has known him too long to believe it. "I didn't hear you," he shuffles the papers against his lap and watches Yoochun round the table to take a seat beside him on the couch. He's dressed very nicely. "What are you doing here?" he asks him, eyeing the corner of the coffee table where the envelope landed.
Yoochun doesn't say anything, watches him, something he's been doing the last few weeks. He's analyzing him, making sure he's hasn't gone crazy but Jaejoong thinks maybe he has. Just a little.
"You look like shit," he finally speaks and crosses his leg over the other with a labored sigh, heavy and critical.
Jaejoong looks down at himself. Just a t-shirt and jeans. Nothing spectacular like everyone likes to believe he wears. Stepping out in public has always been a personal fashion show but at home he can be himself and at home he likes to keep it simple. "You look nice," he tells Yoochun as he grabs for his tea. "You want some?" he offers and Yoochun shakes his head.
"You're supposed to be dressed for dinner," Yoochun says looking around the living room blandly. His eyes are sharp with soft winkles of age around the corners and somehow they've remained soft. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait for you."
Jaejoong doesn't remember ever making plans to go to dinner with anyone. He's holed himself up in his house for so long, writing, composing, everything and everyone else has fallen by the wayside. "I didn't know we were going out," he apologizes and finishes what's left in his mug before setting it back down and looking at his friend.
His blood quickens when he realizes his friend is staring at something and when his eyes follow to what they're looking at, his heart stops, just for a second.
"You haven't opened it," Yoochun breathes steadily, controlling his emotion as he reaches over and Jaejoong holds his breath when he sees his fingers curl around the unopened invitation. "If you had opened it, you'd know today is the rehearsal dinner," he turns to Jaejoong and pins him. Roots him to the couch and holds him there accusingly.
Jaejoong flushes in embarrassment and turns his gaze to the hands clasped tightly in his lap. "Not on purpose," he says softly but he's lying and Yoochun knows it. Everyone knows it. "I've been busy."
"You've been keeping yourself busy from opening it you mean," Yoochun charges and grabs for the metal letter open beside him on the side table but before he can Jaejoong jumps at and rips both items from his hands.
"Don't!" he cries and holds them to his chest, Yoochun's eyes soften and he feels sorry for him and Jaejoong despises the look. "I'm busy," he states again and sets them down on the coffee table. He wants the horrible expression wiped from Yoochun's face, it makes him feel pathetic and perhaps he is. "I'm sorry I can't go tonight," he apologizes and reaches for his music sheets.
Yoochun doesn't move and doesn't say anything to him but his eyes burn and he knows what he's thinking without having to say a word. "You know, not opening it isn't going to change anything," he says and stands up.
Jaejoong ignores him and stares at the sorrowful lyric's he's written.
"It's not going to stop the wedding," he adds and walks around the table, standing tall beside him, blocking the sunset glow from his window.
Jaejoong doesn't look at him. "I know," he murmurs and clutches tightly at the pencil in his hand. "Don't you think I know that?"
As Yoochun moves towards the door, keys clicking in the silence Jaejoong finally looks up and meets the same, disconcerting eyes, "I don't think you do," he opens the door and begins to leave, but stops, "And if you don't go, Jaejoong, he'll never forgive you," he warns him, truth spilling from his lips and he leaves with a soft click.
Jaejoong stares until his eyes get fuzzy and he rubs the glisten away from his eyelashes. He turns back around and sets the sheets on his lap, taking the letter opener and invitation into his shaky hands. In one firm swipe he cuts the seal and opens the envelope.
The invitation is the same colour and printed on it is the same gold lettering.
His stomach twists and his chest feels heavy.
"You've been cordially invited to attend the wedding of Jung Yunho and…"
Jaejoong doesn't feel it until he hears the soft impact and he looks down at the tear stain on the paper. He brings a hand to his face and he wipes carefully, brushing at the moister on his fingertips.
He tries to swallow but the lump in his throat is too painful so he breathes deeply and shudders as he exhales and sets the invitation aside.
He can't finish it, he won't finish it because his world his crumbling around his shoulders and no one's there to catch him.
Junsu visits while Jaejoong is trying to keep himself from thinking about the impending marriage of Yunho.
"You missed a good dinner," he sits on the couch leafing through the music sheets on the coffee table. "This looks good," he comments and sets them down, crossing his legs while Jaejoong takes a seat beside him.
"Thank you," he smiles. "Did Yoochun apologize for my absence?" he asks, reaching over for the music sheets. "I'm sorry I couldn't go," he adds with a sigh.
Junsu nods and looks down at his nails. "Everyone knows why you weren't there," he says, without looking up at Jaejoong.
Jaejoong feels his insides trembling but forces a smile on his face nevertheless; “Do you want to sip on tea or coffee as we discuss my music?”
The invitation, along with its envelope remains mixed with the leaves of sheets that are spread across Jaejoong’s coffee table. Jaejoong tries his best to forget its physical existence but that proves to be a little bit difficult when Yoochun and Junsu keep sending him text messages about how Jaejoong just has to attend the wedding.
One such day, when Jaejoong is cooped in his apartment, sipping on tea and composing his music - his doorbell rings; usually the one to ignore anyone, Jaejoong decides what the heck and pads his way to the front door, expecting it to be Yoochun or Junsu or his manager. But it’s not.
It’s Changmin.
Jaejoong stares at the younger boy with a shocked expression as he clutches on to the door till his knuckles turn white.
“The least you can do is to invite me in, Hyung.” Changmin says, complimenting the statement with a sly smile.
Jaejoong squints at Changmin; “I haven’t cooked anything so go away.”
Changmin feigns hurt; “I cannot believe you’d think I only use you for your cooking.”
“You do.”
“That’s right, I’m sorry.” Changmin says and makes his way into the apartment despite Jaejoong standing there. “Now that you mention it, I am hungry.” The younger says, as he seats himself on the sofa.
“Asshole.” Jaejoong smiles.
Changmin looks over at Jaejoong; “You are coming, aren’t you?”
Jaejoong’s blood runs cold. “You haven’t seen me for the better half of two years and you are worried about whether or not I’m attending a wedding?” That comes out more spiteful than it was supposed to be. “Nice. Thank you, Changmin.”
“It’s not just a wedding.” Changmin protests.
Honestly, Jaejoong’s sick and tired of everyone he cares about telling him he needs to be at this Godforsaken wedding; he’s had it. He could not take this for another moment.
“Well whatever it is, I know I am not needed to keep it going.” Jaejoong snaps. “It can go on well without me.”
“If you are completely detached from this wedding,” Changmin says, leafing through the sheets on the coffee table. “I dare you to rip apart the invitation, Hyung,” Changmin holds up the invitation to Jaejoong’s face and the golden lettering makes Jaejoong lose his breath a little.
“As his best man and friend, you need to be there. He’s obviously not going to question your absence with the pathetic excuses you come up with but he’s going to be on the top of the world if you make it.” Changmin says, placing the invitation in Jaejoong’s hands.
“Don’t make him regret his past.” Changmin says, eyeing Jaejoong carefully. “I want to see you there too, Hyung.”
Changmin exits soundlessly and leaves Jaejoong with a chipped off heart.
Jaejoong thinks it’s unfair, as he stumbles into his apartment, drunk out of his face; he thinks it’s unfair. Everyone seems to be thinking about Yunho and his happiness and how Yunho’s going to start a new life with this woman and everyone expects Jaejoong to be there because it’s Yunho and he’s Jaejoong and they’re always a team.
Jaejoong almost crawls to his bedroom and with a lot of effort, gets into bed and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He dials a number that’s not on his contact list but it’s engraved on to the back of his mind like a curse. He holds the phone to his ear and waits for the ringtone, someone picks up after two rings.
“Hello.”
His voice is just how Jaejoong remembers it to be - kind, confident and soft; a lot like his personality. Jaejoong always thought a lot could be said about people on how they receive their calls. And Yunho always sounded like a leader when he picked up his calls, even at two thirty early in the morning.
“Hello.”
Jaejoong holds back a sob not so quietly and exhales. God, he was not ready for this. He wants to hang up, have another shot of whatever alcohol he had at home and go to sleep. He was not ready for Yunho, not even his emotions were taking advantage of his intoxicated brain.
“Jaejoongie?”
And that’s when he breaks.
Yunho’s not allowed to do this, not allowed to call him his most intimate nickname at two thirty in the night when he’s drunk and Yunho’s engaged to someone else and is getting married in another two days. Yunho’s just unfair. Jaejoong sobs into the phone and Yunho doesn’t say anything.
Jaejoong wants to stop crying, wants to pick himself up and give Yunho a piece of his mind - let him know what exactly he thinks and why it’s a good reason for Jaejoong not to attend the wedding. But as much as he tries to say anything coherent, more tears flow out and Jaejoong’s falling and falling and falling.
“I’m sorry.” He hears Yunho from the other end. “I am really sorry. I know you don’t want to come for the wedding and I know Yoochunnie, Junsu and Changminnie are expecting you to be there and I know it’s going to be difficult for you, it’s difficult for me too, Jaejoongie. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to come, I understand.”
Jaejoong feels himself calming down, he sniffs and holds his phone fervently like the inanimate object is Yunho himself; “I’m sorry -- too.” Jaejoong’s voice cracks as he sniffs. “I am sorry too, Yunho.”
He hangs up before Yunho can say anything. He needs this to end.
“First time I met Yunho, he was drinking strawberry milkshake, he had wonky teeth and there was a porcupine on his head. But he wouldn’t have cared more. He walked over to me, patted me on the back and said, you’re in my batch of training and you’re the same age as me, we’re going to be best of friend. And I have never doubted that.” Jaejoong says, holding up his flute of champagne. “And today, my best friend’s getting married and I couldn’t be happier for him. I wish you all the joy and luck in the world, Yunho. May you and your lovely bride live with content and satisfaction.”
The reception hall explodes into applause and Jaejoong lifts his glass in Yunho’s direction and nodding at the groom, he takes a sip. Yunho mirrors his action and takes a sip from his own glass.
The couple are invited on the dance floor for their first dance, Jaejoong watches Yunho lead his new bride to the centre of the hall and Jaejoong’s insides twist. More couples fill up the hall and Jaejoong quietly leaves the hall.
“You were quite brave to make it.” Yoochun joins Jaejoong outside, plucking the cigarette from Jaejoong’s hand to breathe in a drag.
“Yeah, well.” Jaejoong shrugs. “Yunho deserves his happiness and I need to let go of him.”
“When did you mature?” Yoochun laughs.
“With time.”
“That was a damn fine nice speech you made there, Hyung.”
Yoochun and Jaejoong turn to see Changmin and Junsu walking towards them. “I’m proud of you.” Junsu smiles, throwing an arm around Jaejoong. “I am glad you did this for Yunho, he’s probably the happiest man in the world right now.” Junsu grins.
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Jaejoong smiles despite himself.
The four of them sit out in the open, conversing about nothing really. Jaejoong realizes, as he watches the other three bicker, that everything does gets better. The pain slowly fades away and you can always choose to be happy.
“You guys, what are you all doing out here?”
Yunho’s voice makes the four of them turn around. “Why aren’t you all inside?”
“Congrats, you blushing groom!” Junsu laughs, poking Yunho in the ribs and hugging the older man.
“Thanks.” Yunho grins, hugging Junsu back. “Ya’ll get back inside now; there is so much food to finish.”
Jaejoong watches the three of them scramble towards the reception hall, it’s like they never grew up. Yunho smiles at Jaejoong; “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming here, for the speech, for being my north star.”
Jaejoong chuckles and lightly punches Yunho on the shoulders; “You’re an idiot.” Jaejoong mumbles, shaking his head. From the reception, the pair can hear music being played, faintly but still audible.
“A dance, Jaejoong-sshi?” Yunho asks, taking a step and bowing curtly.
“Why, I’d be flattered.” Jaejoong smiles.
It’s a strange comfort how Jaejoong fits into Yunho’s arms; as they sway from side to side to the faint music, Jaejoong looks up at Yunho. “Handsome, so handsome.” Jaejoong sighs.
Yunho tilts his head and smiles. “Thank you,” Yunho whispers; “For being a part of who I am.”
Jaejoong’s seen that look in Yunho’s eyes; it’s the same look Yunho gets when he’s about to start something new, something strange, something wild. Yunho’s happy and that makes Jaejoong so happy.
Jaejoong chooses happiness. He chooses to be happy.
+
a/n:
This was a wip by ephemeral_blue that I adopted because I was in love with how she started this fic and I just continued it. Thank you for this, bb; I hope you liked it :) x
He hasn't the stomach to open it when it arrives.
-
He hasn't the stomach to open it when it arrives.
It sits on his coffee table and has been there for the last three weeks, unopened and ignored. He won't break the seal though sometimes the urge to look at it, read it, feels almost suffocating. If he reads it, it will be real, proof that life moves forward where it seems as if he's stood still for so many years, wishing things could go back to the way they were, worst fear validate and he's not ready for it. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready for it.
So it sits there.
Every morning he looks at it, every night he watches the light make it disappear. When he lies in bed he thinks maybe tomorrow will be the day he'll have the strength to do it, rip off the band aid, no anaesthesia, because when he does open it, the pain will be unbearable.
So it sits there.
Jaejoong's working on a new song, something he's been trying to finish but hasn't been able too. It's a heart wrenching ballad of lost love, he finds it self-deprecating and he hates that all his songs are the same. About the same thing, loathing love or trying to find it, all his songs are about being lonely and all his songs are sad.
Sometimes he wonders why he still writes when there are plenty of people in line ready to whip up a gloriously happy ballad, rejoicing, celebrating the bliss of being with the person you love. Sometimes it would just be much easier. But it would be fake, he hasn't been happy in years, when he lost him, he took all the happiness away and he's spent years, years looking for it, hoping it would come back.
Jaejoong sighs woefully as he looks over the lyrics, biting his lip in concentration before he turns the pencil over and erases the entire last verse. It's too hopeful. Delicate fingers brush the bits of wasted eraser from the sheet and he leans over reaching for his mug of tea from the coffee table. For a moment, just a brief moment his eyes drift and the smooth ivory envelope with a blood red seal steals into his line of vision.
He forgets about the tea, drops the sheet music onto the cushion beside him and clamps his hands together, looking at it. He doesn't know how much time he's spend looking at it he just knows it takes up more of his time than it should.
Jaejoong brings a hand to his mouth and rubs it across his lips, scratching his chin, pressing his palm against his cheek. He sighs and leans over the table, reaching, stretching until his fingers close around the envelope and he sits back. It's nothing flashy, delicate and simple.
Mr Kim, Jaejoong is scripted beautifully in gold lettering in the centre with care.
He allows a finger to brush over the embossed print before he scratches at his neck anxiously and rubs at his exhausted eyes. Every time he touches it, an overwhelming apprehension seems to paralyze him. His eyes burn, his body heats up and it feels like it's harder to breathe. Simply holding it, knowing what's inside makes him feel crazy.
"Just do it," he tells himself as he flips the envelope over, touching the seal, his hands moist against the fine paper, "just do it," he whispers and tries to.
But he can't, as always.
So he leans back and drops the envelope onto his lap as he brings his hands to his face and he tries to catch his breath.
When the sound of a knock bounces through the room Jaejoong turns his head and looks toward the door. He hasn't any plans with anyone so he ignores it. Something he's been doing too often and he knows his friends are starting to worry. His neglect has just recently started, ever since he got it. Ever since he's been tormented by a small envelope which will shatter the little bit of hope he has left.
His phone rings. It's Yoochun. He hits ignore.
The knock comes again, this time a little more aggressive. Jaejoong sighs and closes his eyes resting against the couch. Everyone important in his life has a key to his house, if they want to come in, they can.
So the person at the door does.
Jaejoong turns his head at the sound of his front door unlocking.
"Jaejoong? You home?"
It's Yoochun and at the first sound of his voice Jaejoong sits up and tosses the unopened invitation back on the coffee table. He grabs his discarded sheets of music and busies himself until the sound of the door closes.
"Why didn't you answer the door?"
"Oh hey," he looks up, eyes wide and innocent but Yoochun has known him too long to believe it. "I didn't hear you," he shuffles the papers against his lap and watches Yoochun round the table to take a seat beside him on the couch. He's dressed very nicely. "What are you doing here?" he asks him, eyeing the corner of the coffee table where the envelope landed.
Yoochun doesn't say anything, watches him, something he's been doing the last few weeks. He's analyzing him, making sure he's hasn't gone crazy but Jaejoong thinks maybe he has. Just a little.
"You look like shit," he finally speaks and crosses his leg over the other with a labored sigh, heavy and critical.
Jaejoong looks down at himself. Just a t-shirt and jeans. Nothing spectacular like everyone likes to believe he wears. Stepping out in public has always been a personal fashion show but at home he can be himself and at home he likes to keep it simple. "You look nice," he tells Yoochun as he grabs for his tea. "You want some?" he offers and Yoochun shakes his head.
"You're supposed to be dressed for dinner," Yoochun says looking around the living room blandly. His eyes are sharp with soft winkles of age around the corners and somehow they've remained soft. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait for you."
Jaejoong doesn't remember ever making plans to go to dinner with anyone. He's holed himself up in his house for so long, writing, composing, everything and everyone else has fallen by the wayside. "I didn't know we were going out," he apologizes and finishes what's left in his mug before setting it back down and looking at his friend.
His blood quickens when he realizes his friend is staring at something and when his eyes follow to what they're looking at, his heart stops, just for a second.
"You haven't opened it," Yoochun breathes steadily, controlling his emotion as he reaches over and Jaejoong holds his breath when he sees his fingers curl around the unopened invitation. "If you had opened it, you'd know today is the rehearsal dinner," he turns to Jaejoong and pins him. Roots him to the couch and holds him there accusingly.
Jaejoong flushes in embarrassment and turns his gaze to the hands clasped tightly in his lap. "Not on purpose," he says softly but he's lying and Yoochun knows it. Everyone knows it. "I've been busy."
"You've been keeping yourself busy from opening it you mean," Yoochun charges and grabs for the metal letter open beside him on the side table but before he can Jaejoong jumps at and rips both items from his hands.
"Don't!" he cries and holds them to his chest, Yoochun's eyes soften and he feels sorry for him and Jaejoong despises the look. "I'm busy," he states again and sets them down on the coffee table. He wants the horrible expression wiped from Yoochun's face, it makes him feel pathetic and perhaps he is. "I'm sorry I can't go tonight," he apologizes and reaches for his music sheets.
Yoochun doesn't move and doesn't say anything to him but his eyes burn and he knows what he's thinking without having to say a word. "You know, not opening it isn't going to change anything," he says and stands up.
Jaejoong ignores him and stares at the sorrowful lyric's he's written.
"It's not going to stop the wedding," he adds and walks around the table, standing tall beside him, blocking the sunset glow from his window.
Jaejoong doesn't look at him. "I know," he murmurs and clutches tightly at the pencil in his hand. "Don't you think I know that?"
As Yoochun moves towards the door, keys clicking in the silence Jaejoong finally looks up and meets the same, disconcerting eyes, "I don't think you do," he opens the door and begins to leave, but stops, "And if you don't go, Jaejoong, he'll never forgive you," he warns him, truth spilling from his lips and he leaves with a soft click.
Jaejoong stares until his eyes get fuzzy and he rubs the glisten away from his eyelashes. He turns back around and sets the sheets on his lap, taking the letter opener and invitation into his shaky hands. In one firm swipe he cuts the seal and opens the envelope.
The invitation is the same colour and printed on it is the same gold lettering.
His stomach twists and his chest feels heavy.
"You've been cordially invited to attend the wedding of Jung Yunho and…"
Jaejoong doesn't feel it until he hears the soft impact and he looks down at the tear stain on the paper. He brings a hand to his face and he wipes carefully, brushing at the moister on his fingertips.
He tries to swallow but the lump in his throat is too painful so he breathes deeply and shudders as he exhales and sets the invitation aside.
He can't finish it, he won't finish it because his world his crumbling around his shoulders and no one's there to catch him.
Junsu visits while Jaejoong is trying to keep himself from thinking about the impending marriage of Yunho.
"You missed a good dinner," he sits on the couch leafing through the music sheets on the coffee table. "This looks good," he comments and sets them down, crossing his legs while Jaejoong takes a seat beside him.
"Thank you," he smiles. "Did Yoochun apologize for my absence?" he asks, reaching over for the music sheets. "I'm sorry I couldn't go," he adds with a sigh.
Junsu nods and looks down at his nails. "Everyone knows why you weren't there," he says, without looking up at Jaejoong.
Jaejoong feels his insides trembling but forces a smile on his face nevertheless; “Do you want to sip on tea or coffee as we discuss my music?”
The invitation, along with its envelope remains mixed with the leaves of sheets that are spread across Jaejoong’s coffee table. Jaejoong tries his best to forget its physical existence but that proves to be a little bit difficult when Yoochun and Junsu keep sending him text messages about how Jaejoong just has to attend the wedding.
One such day, when Jaejoong is cooped in his apartment, sipping on tea and composing his music - his doorbell rings; usually the one to ignore anyone, Jaejoong decides what the heck and pads his way to the front door, expecting it to be Yoochun or Junsu or his manager. But it’s not.
It’s Changmin.
Jaejoong stares at the younger boy with a shocked expression as he clutches on to the door till his knuckles turn white.
“The least you can do is to invite me in, Hyung.” Changmin says, complimenting the statement with a sly smile.
Jaejoong squints at Changmin; “I haven’t cooked anything so go away.”
Changmin feigns hurt; “I cannot believe you’d think I only use you for your cooking.”
“You do.”
“That’s right, I’m sorry.” Changmin says and makes his way into the apartment despite Jaejoong standing there. “Now that you mention it, I am hungry.” The younger says, as he seats himself on the sofa.
“Asshole.” Jaejoong smiles.
Changmin looks over at Jaejoong; “You are coming, aren’t you?”
Jaejoong’s blood runs cold. “You haven’t seen me for the better half of two years and you are worried about whether or not I’m attending a wedding?” That comes out more spiteful than it was supposed to be. “Nice. Thank you, Changmin.”
“It’s not just a wedding.” Changmin protests.
Honestly, Jaejoong’s sick and tired of everyone he cares about telling him he needs to be at this Godforsaken wedding; he’s had it. He could not take this for another moment.
“Well whatever it is, I know I am not needed to keep it going.” Jaejoong snaps. “It can go on well without me.”
“If you are completely detached from this wedding,” Changmin says, leafing through the sheets on the coffee table. “I dare you to rip apart the invitation, Hyung,” Changmin holds up the invitation to Jaejoong’s face and the golden lettering makes Jaejoong lose his breath a little.
“As his best man and friend, you need to be there. He’s obviously not going to question your absence with the pathetic excuses you come up with but he’s going to be on the top of the world if you make it.” Changmin says, placing the invitation in Jaejoong’s hands.
“Don’t make him regret his past.” Changmin says, eyeing Jaejoong carefully. “I want to see you there too, Hyung.”
Changmin exits soundlessly and leaves Jaejoong with a chipped off heart.
Jaejoong thinks it’s unfair, as he stumbles into his apartment, drunk out of his face; he thinks it’s unfair. Everyone seems to be thinking about Yunho and his happiness and how Yunho’s going to start a new life with this woman and everyone expects Jaejoong to be there because it’s Yunho and he’s Jaejoong and they’re always a team.
Jaejoong almost crawls to his bedroom and with a lot of effort, gets into bed and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He dials a number that’s not on his contact list but it’s engraved on to the back of his mind like a curse. He holds the phone to his ear and waits for the ringtone, someone picks up after two rings.
“Hello.”
His voice is just how Jaejoong remembers it to be - kind, confident and soft; a lot like his personality. Jaejoong always thought a lot could be said about people on how they receive their calls. And Yunho always sounded like a leader when he picked up his calls, even at two thirty early in the morning.
“Hello.”
Jaejoong holds back a sob not so quietly and exhales. God, he was not ready for this. He wants to hang up, have another shot of whatever alcohol he had at home and go to sleep. He was not ready for Yunho, not even his emotions were taking advantage of his intoxicated brain.
“Jaejoongie?”
And that’s when he breaks.
Yunho’s not allowed to do this, not allowed to call him his most intimate nickname at two thirty in the night when he’s drunk and Yunho’s engaged to someone else and is getting married in another two days. Yunho’s just unfair. Jaejoong sobs into the phone and Yunho doesn’t say anything.
Jaejoong wants to stop crying, wants to pick himself up and give Yunho a piece of his mind - let him know what exactly he thinks and why it’s a good reason for Jaejoong not to attend the wedding. But as much as he tries to say anything coherent, more tears flow out and Jaejoong’s falling and falling and falling.
“I’m sorry.” He hears Yunho from the other end. “I am really sorry. I know you don’t want to come for the wedding and I know Yoochunnie, Junsu and Changminnie are expecting you to be there and I know it’s going to be difficult for you, it’s difficult for me too, Jaejoongie. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to come, I understand.”
Jaejoong feels himself calming down, he sniffs and holds his phone fervently like the inanimate object is Yunho himself; “I’m sorry -- too.” Jaejoong’s voice cracks as he sniffs. “I am sorry too, Yunho.”
He hangs up before Yunho can say anything. He needs this to end.
“First time I met Yunho, he was drinking strawberry milkshake, he had wonky teeth and there was a porcupine on his head. But he wouldn’t have cared more. He walked over to me, patted me on the back and said, you’re in my batch of training and you’re the same age as me, we’re going to be best of friend. And I have never doubted that.” Jaejoong says, holding up his flute of champagne. “And today, my best friend’s getting married and I couldn’t be happier for him. I wish you all the joy and luck in the world, Yunho. May you and your lovely bride live with content and satisfaction.”
The reception hall explodes into applause and Jaejoong lifts his glass in Yunho’s direction and nodding at the groom, he takes a sip. Yunho mirrors his action and takes a sip from his own glass.
The couple are invited on the dance floor for their first dance, Jaejoong watches Yunho lead his new bride to the centre of the hall and Jaejoong’s insides twist. More couples fill up the hall and Jaejoong quietly leaves the hall.
“You were quite brave to make it.” Yoochun joins Jaejoong outside, plucking the cigarette from Jaejoong’s hand to breathe in a drag.
“Yeah, well.” Jaejoong shrugs. “Yunho deserves his happiness and I need to let go of him.”
“When did you mature?” Yoochun laughs.
“With time.”
“That was a damn fine nice speech you made there, Hyung.”
Yoochun and Jaejoong turn to see Changmin and Junsu walking towards them. “I’m proud of you.” Junsu smiles, throwing an arm around Jaejoong. “I am glad you did this for Yunho, he’s probably the happiest man in the world right now.” Junsu grins.
“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Jaejoong smiles despite himself.
The four of them sit out in the open, conversing about nothing really. Jaejoong realizes, as he watches the other three bicker, that everything does gets better. The pain slowly fades away and you can always choose to be happy.
“You guys, what are you all doing out here?”
Yunho’s voice makes the four of them turn around. “Why aren’t you all inside?”
“Congrats, you blushing groom!” Junsu laughs, poking Yunho in the ribs and hugging the older man.
“Thanks.” Yunho grins, hugging Junsu back. “Ya’ll get back inside now; there is so much food to finish.”
Jaejoong watches the three of them scramble towards the reception hall, it’s like they never grew up. Yunho smiles at Jaejoong; “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming here, for the speech, for being my north star.”
Jaejoong chuckles and lightly punches Yunho on the shoulders; “You’re an idiot.” Jaejoong mumbles, shaking his head. From the reception, the pair can hear music being played, faintly but still audible.
“A dance, Jaejoong-sshi?” Yunho asks, taking a step and bowing curtly.
“Why, I’d be flattered.” Jaejoong smiles.
It’s a strange comfort how Jaejoong fits into Yunho’s arms; as they sway from side to side to the faint music, Jaejoong looks up at Yunho. “Handsome, so handsome.” Jaejoong sighs.
Yunho tilts his head and smiles. “Thank you,” Yunho whispers; “For being a part of who I am.”
Jaejoong’s seen that look in Yunho’s eyes; it’s the same look Yunho gets when he’s about to start something new, something strange, something wild. Yunho’s happy and that makes Jaejoong so happy.
Jaejoong chooses happiness. He chooses to be happy.
+
a/n:
This was a wip by ephemeral_blue that I adopted because I was in love with how she started this fic and I just continued it. Thank you for this, bb; I hope you liked it :) x