what it is (2)

[dystopialights]

[part one]

“Hello, hyung,” Changmin says with an icy smile.

Jaejoong jumps from his seat in surprise and Changmin grabs his arm, holding tight as if to stop him from running - he says as much, a ‘you’re not going anywhere’ that he doesn’t get to finish because Jaejoong steps forward and hugs him for all his worth. He can practically feel the air leave Changmin’s lungs but he can’t let go; doesn’t want to ever let go.

“Oh my god,” he says in a rush, “It’s you. Oh my god, I missed you.”

Changmin tenses under him, and Jaejoong knows that Changmin had probably come looking for a fight. They haven’t spoken since that angry conversation over a bad connection in Greece and Jaejoong is sure that the younger man is still angry with him - but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care why Changmin is here or how he found Jaejoong or if he’s angry at him because right now Changmin is here and Jaejoong has never been so happy to see someone in his life.

He takes a deep breath, smelling Changmin and that cologne he always wears whenever he travels.

“Jaejoong…” Changmin says from somewhere above him. “Jaejoong, let go of me.”

Jaejoong shakes his head. “Why should I?”

“Because I can’t breathe and people are starting to stare.”

Jaejoong releases a shaky laugh and steps back, although he keeps his hands on Changmin’s hips; keeps him close. “Hey ‘Min,” he says softly.

Changmin stares him up and down, that sort of manic look still in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything and Jaejoong’s smile begins to slip-

And that’s when Changmin hits him. A hook to the shoulder that Jaejoong thinks isn’t too bad until Changmin follows it up with a punch straight to his stomach. He doubles over and now the hands on the other man’s hips are just helping him stay up.

“OW,” he coughs.

“Did you really not expect that?” Changmin glares.

“Ow,” he repeats, realizing he probably should have expected it. One moment of happy reunion wouldn’t dispel months angry brooding. But - “Not here, at least. Didn’t you just say something about people staring?”

Changmin scoffs. “Like that would stop me. You deserved that, you jerk.”

Jaejoong falls back into his chair and puts his head in his hands. “I did,” he says somberly. “Probably a few more hits, too.”

He hears Changmin take the seat next to him. “Yes, you do. …How could you do it? To me? To Yunho?”

“…I didn’t want to.”

“No - no fuck that, you goddamn wanted to. Rather than talking out your problems took the coward’s way out and ran.”

“I did.”

“And you left us all behind without a word.”

“I did.”

“And you lied to me, to make me your accomplice.”

“…I did.”

“So tell me why the hell I shouldn’t punch you again, or forgive you - ever?”

Jaejoong is silent. He doesn’t have an answer for Changmin, not that the other man seems to expect it, because he keeps ranting.

“Aiish. I mean, I know you can be dumb and thoughtless, and this was definitely the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. But also, what you did… you planned it. You worked it all out and thought I would be the one gullible enough not to ask questions, right? That I would just take you at your word - which I did, of course. Lucky for you, then, huh? You were probably angry I ended up telling Yunho where you had gone-”

“No!” Jaejoong interrupts, lifting his head to meet Changmin’s gaze. “I would have never been angry at you. I never wanted to use you in the first place.”

Changmin starts to respond but is cut off again, this time by the maître’de, who comes over to politely ask them to take their ‘business’ elsewhere. As if two men hugging wasn’t enough of a scene, the punching and arguing had assured they’d overstayed their welcome.

Jaejoong feels his face burn in embarrassment. He apologizes and scrambles up, grabbing at his brochures but Changmin doesn’t let him, yanking the artist out of his seat and stalking out of the small restaurant.

“Room number?” he asks tersely.

Jaejoong gives it to him and follows compliantly as they make their way to his room. He doesn’t know if getting Changmin in private will be better or worse. The death-grip the younger man has on his arm lends more towards the latter.

“How did you know where I was?” Jaejoong asks when they’re alone in the elevator.

“Yoochun,” Changmin replies. “He told us you were here and I happen to have a shoot scheduled for next week in Osaka. Thought I’d come a bit early.”

“But how did you find me?”

“You talked about staying in this hotel last time you were in Tokyo. You’re a creature of habit. It was my best guess.”

“It was a good guess.”

“Hn.”

“…I’m glad, you know. That you found me.”

Beside him Changmin shifts uncomfortably. “I figured, the way you practically hugged me to death when you saw me.”

“It was good to see a familiar face. Especially one as good-looking as yours,” he teases gently, trying to ease the mood, to edge past the photographer’s hostility.

It seems to work, and Jaejoong can see the struggle on Changmin’s face. He was never very good at hiding his emotions, and Jaejoong can sense his desire to fall into their usual banter without letting go of his anger.

“I really did miss you,” he continues. “It took me days to work up the courage to call you, because I knew you’d be mad and I didn’t want you to be. Having to hear everything second-hand through Yoochun was awful.”

Changmin snorts. “If you hadn’t left, maybe that wouldn’t have happened.”

“I had to-” and he raises a hand to stop Changmin from interrupting him, “I had to because I needed to get away, Changmin, and do this. Even if it wasn’t right, and I see that now, I’m glad I did it.”

“Really? You’re glad that you left and broke Yunho’s heart and hurt everyone who loves you? Have you really been that happy on your own?”

Has he been happy? Really happy? Jaejoong thinks and looks deep inside of himself; the answer is yes. And no. “It’s complicated,” he says instead.

“Right,” the other man drawls, and they fall into silence once more.

The elevator signals its stop with a loud ping and Changmin gets off first. He’s no longer holding on to Jaejoong but the elder follows him dutifully anyway. It’s a short walk to the room and Jaejoong searches for something to say but can’t honestly think of anything. It used to be that he and Changmin could talk about anything and everything - they’d spend only two days apart and then have to spend hours catching up. They might have been the oldest and youngest but they had always had certain special kind of kinship.

Jaejoong had, despite his anxiety, always thought that Changmin would forgive him. That they’d see each other and everything would be right again.

He’s starting to think maybe he thought wrong. And it breaks his heart.
****

Changmin stays in his hotel room for the night.

“I came all this way to find you, hyung, the least you can do is let me stay here.”

Jaejoong agrees readily but after an hour thinks that maybe the tense silence is worse than if Changmin had gone to stay somewhere else. Jaejoong has a double bed and lays out on it, staring at the ceiling, while Changmin unpacks. He’s always meticulous about that sort of thing. He puts all his clothes away and then sets up his things in the bathroom. Then he pulls out his computer and his tablet and his little external hard drive where, Jaejoong knows, he keeps all the back-ups of his photos.

It looks like he’s working on a fashion shoot, now, and is quickly absorbed in retouching the model’s arm.

In all this time he doesn’t say a word to Jaejoong. The artist drifts off into sleep, eventually, waking only when Changmin pokes him. He opens his eyes and sees out the window, the sunset folding creases in the sky.

“I’m ordering room service,” Changmin says. “Want anything?”

“No,” Jaejoong whispers, rolling over and burying his face into a pillow. His dreams were as uncomfortable as reality and his stomach feels uneasy; he doesn’t think he could keep food down even if he wanted it to.

He hears Changmin order and then go into the bathroom. It isn’t until he hears the sputter-start of the shower that he lifts his head again. He sits up and stretches. His back cracks unpleasantly and he frowns, thinking that even his body isn’t happy with him now.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a change in the light; Changmin’s computer has switched to the screen saver. It’s a slideshow of pictures, Jaejoong knows, a collection of Changmin’s personal favorites. He expects to see familiar photos slide across the screen, and is surprised when the first one to pop up is blurry and pixilated.

It’s a selca photo - new, because Yoochun’s hair is shorter and he had told Jaejoong that he had cut it a while back, hadn’t he? Changmin and Yoochun are squeezed into the frame, their cheeks smooshed together so that their smiles blend into one. Over Changmin’s shoulder Jaejoong can see Junsu, sneaking into the picture to make a funny face.

Then the photo is gone, fading from the screen and in its place is a new one. It’s Junsu laughing over a plate of kalbi, even as someone off-screen reaches in a hand to poke him in the cheek. Looking at the rings Jaejoong can tell the hand belongs to Yoochun.

A new picture; Changmin and Junsu, flashing peace signs. Yoochun, asleep at the piano. And-

Yunho. Yunho smiling softly but even in low-quality Jaejoong can see it doesn’t reach his eyes. Yunho, caught by surprise as Changmin snags a photo of them. The four of them together, barely fitting into the frame. Yoochun again, Yunho and Junsu, Changmin, Junsu, Yunho-

“Hyung…” Changmin calls from behind him, and Jaejoong whirls around. He wipes at his cheeks because he’s been crying and he hadn’t even realized, but now that he feels them, cool on his cheeks, he feels ashamed.

He laughs and wipes furiously. “They just came on, I didn’t mean to pry, or anything. They’re all new, right? Not your usual thing, Minnie… ‘thought you hated camera phones.”

“Yeah…” Changmin says slowly. He’s looking at him and Jaejoong can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“I’m sorry, this is so stupid,” he laughs again but nothing about this is funny. “They’re just pictures and I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t.”

Changmin walks over and sits beside him on the bed. “I hate camera phones,” he says, “because they’re low quality and they never turn out good and they make everyone think they’re some sort photographer. Especially you. You snap a million of those things whenever we’re all together and I hate it because you may be a brilliant painter but you have no sense of frame or focus. You’re always shoving that thing in my face and taking these horrid pictures.”

“Sorry-”

“-But as much as I hated when you did it…I hated it more when you weren’t there to take them.”

Jaejoong chokes.

“I hated that whenever I took a picture all I could think of was what it would have looked like if you had taken it. When it was just me and the guys… No matter how many I took, when I developed them they still didn’t have the same charm as your shitty, shitty pictures.”

“My pictures are pretty shitty,” Jaejoong agrees quietly.

“Damn right they are,” Changmin says, “But they captured us - and that’s something only you can do. Even when I lowered myself to using the camera phone for selca, of all things, the pictures didn’t turn out half as well as some of yours.”

“Liar,” he says around a trembling smile. “You think you’re pictures are amazing, selca or no. They are amazing. Look at me, reduced to tears just at the sight of them.”

And he tentatively - tentatively, leans over, nudging Changmin playfully with his shoulder, and feels himself melt a bit when Changmin nudges him back - albeit much harder. “You’re right,” he says smartly, “it’s true, my photos are the best.”

“Of course,” Jaejoong replies softly. He turns to look Changmin in the eye. “And… I want to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Changmin stares at him and he bites his lip, but determinedly maintains eye-contact. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through and how selfish I was. And I know - I know I can’t really ask you to forgive me, and I don’t expect you to, but I want you to know that I missed you every single day and that I’m sorry.”

He watches Changmin watch him, and breathes deeply to keep himself from panicking. This roller-coaster of emotions is not helping and he really feels like he might be sick, the bile rising in his throat and tears falling again and he starts to look away - and then Changmin crushes him, grabbing him in a hug even tighter than Jaejoong’s first one.

Jaejoong’ s breath stutters but he holds Changmin back, hands coming up to clench in thin fabric of his shirt. They stay like that for minutes, and Changmin doesn’t say anything so Jaejoong follows suit, simply basking in the others presence. He feels past hurt slowly dissolve under their solid embrace, and Jaejoong realizes how good it feels just to be touched like this again.

The sun has set and the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of food. Changmin pulls back first and gives Jaejoong a neutral look before going to open the door. Jaejoong takes the opportunity to stand and goes to the bathroom so he can splash water on his face. His legs feel a bit shaky but he makes it there and back without stumbling.

Changmin has the food spread out on the bed and has already begun eating, shoveling in his food with the appetite Jaejoong has always known. Jaejoong sits cross-legged across from him. He still isn’t hungry but Changmin offers him a few bites which he gladly takes.

And while Changmin eats, Jaejoong talks. He tells him the whole story, of what had been wrong and why he had left and what he had been doing since. He doesn’t know how much Changmin knows but it doesn’t matter, because this is his side of the story and Changmin needs to hear it, never mind that for the past few months the younger man just hadn’t wanted to.

And when he’s done it’s late into the night and the food is gone and there is understanding dawning on Changmin’s face. They’re laying side-by-side and Jaejoong trails off, thoroughly exhausted. He closes his eyes.

“And that’s everything. All I can say is I’m sorry.”

But his eyes fly open when he feels lips on his, tender and fleeting. Changmin pulls back with an ironic smile. “Don’t ever be sorry, okay?”

And Jaejoong realizes how good it feels just to love like this again.
****

It’s the fastest week of Jaejoong’s life. He and Changmin spend the entire time together, simply talking and catching up and it all of a sudden six days have passed and Changmin has a flight to Osaka to catch.

He and Changmin take a cab to the airport. They share the earbuds of Changmin’s headphones and listen to Yoochun’s latest songs. Jaejoong thinks they could be better. Both of their bags are in the trunk.

At Haneda Jaejoong waits with Changmin as long as he can, through the line at the front desk and in the line at security.

“You call me when you get there?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, hyung,” he says and then scratches his head, stalling for time as he tries to think of a way to say it. “Don’t you have a flight to catch, too?”

Jaejoong shakes his head. “I… still haven’t decided. You made me leave my brochures behind, remember?” he jokes.

But Changmin doesn’t laugh. He sighs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small envelope. “You know, before I came… everyone gave me advice about what to say to you, to convince you to come back.”

Jaejoong gulps and wrings his hands together, suddenly feeling anxious. “Yeah…?”

“Yoochun told me to make you listen to his songs and see how awful they are without you to help him. He told me to show you the selca pictures too. I don’t remember what Junsu said, but it was probably something stupid and doesn’t matter.” Jaejoong laughs weakly at that.

The louder speaker announces the start of boarding for Changmin’s flight and they both look up. It will only take him a few minutes to get through security but he can’t linger any longer. They look back at each other.

“And… Yunho gave me this. I don’t know what it says, and I didn’t know when to give it you… but now’s the last chance, yah?” He offers it to Jaejoong, who stares at it.

He thinks of all the things the letter could possible say and wonders how he will feel when he reads it. He thinks about the lonely months and how much he has missed his lover and how - this is it, this is the moment he has been waiting for.

He takes the letter with fingers that don’t tremble. “Thanks, Changmin.”

They share a smile and a hug, in which Changmin leans close to his ear and whispers, “Whatever happens, I love you, hyung.”

And then he lets go, and walks away - and Jaejoong is left alone again. He finds a seat in a corner, pressed against the window so that he can see onto the airfield and watch the planes land and take off.

It’s another half-hour before Changmin’s plane lifts off, and it isn’t until the jet is no more than a dot in the sky that he opens the envelope. He pulls out the little slip of a letter and smoothes it out on his lap.
****

His flight lands mid-afternoon and the airport is still very crowded. Jaejoong has to push his way to get his suitcase off the conveyor belt and the crush of people is sweltering in the early-summer humidity.

He hails a cab and asks him to drive - it doesn’t matter where. He needs time to think and he doesn’t want to have to deal with making decisions, of deciding where to go next or where to stay. He doesn’t know if he’s made the right decision.

He holds the crumbled letter in his lap and reads the words over and over again. His heart is full to bursting and he doesn’t understand why such a short phrase has unsettled him so - not when he had been so ready to accept it. It’s as if all the uncertainty of the past four months is wrapping around him and he is suffocating again. He can’t breathe and can’t enjoy the scenery passing around him like he wants to.

His leg bounces anxiously and the cab driver is taking him in to the city. Jaejoong bites his knuckles. He puts the letter away and takes it out again.

He’s suffocating in two little words.

‘come home.’

He knocks on the closed cabbie’s partition. “Stop here,” he manages.

The streets are busy, sidewalks packed as everyone is out enjoying the sun, but Jaejoong doesn’t see any of them. Everything is a blur. He drags his suitcase behind him as he wanders - just to keep moving, keep going and going wherever his feet take him.

He stops when he’s too exhausted to go any further. He leaves his suitcase on a street corner and walks up to the nearest building. At the lobby the doorman asks if he’s okay but he shakes his head, finding the stairwell and heading up, round and round and higher and higher.

He makes it to the roof and his feet crunch along the gravel. There’s a table and a rusty lawn chair that some tenant must have brought up. He goes to the edge of the building and jumps up onto the lip of the roof. Up here there is a breeze to counter the warmth of the day and Jaejoong opens his arms into the wind. He takes in the view for as long as he can stand it.

The skyline of Seoul is beautiful.

But Jaejoong isn’t home yet. He jumps back onto the roof and runs, runs down the stairs until he’s at the fourth floor and down the hall until he’s at the door of the corner apartment, out of breathe by the time he stops. His keys are in his pocket and he pulls them out, holds them so tight it hurts. And then he drops them and knocks on the door - pounding with his fist so that the whole door shakes.

He hears a voice on the other side and it sounds like ‘coming’ but Jaejoong wants to smile or freak out because he’s the one who’s come and then it doesn’t matter because the door is opening and he is standing in front of Yunho, looking into his eyes and memorizing his features, because no, no, he is never going to let go again and yes, yes, this is the moment he has been waiting for.

Jaejoong breathes.


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Fixed a few things, mostly dumb typos that had me cringing all over the place when I saw them. I wrote most of this monstrous thing over the course of a few days, so that's what you get for rushing ^^;

Still, thank you so much for everyone who voted, as well as all of those who commented over at the comm, I really appreciated it! The challenge had so many amazing entries and I felt really honored just to place ;) And many thanks again to my awesome partner, fibres! It was so much fun, and I really loved writing this peice ♥