[FIC] how to build a time machine
how to build a time machine
Junsu/Yoochun
~2200w. PG-13
A love story in reverse.
For xiahki because I owe her about 83459 YooSu stories♥
73.
Junsu stretches as the morning sunshine creeps across the bed in warm stripes. He smiles and rolls over carefully towards Yoochun. For just a moment, he watches the shadows and highlights fade across Yoochun’s face. These days, Yoochun sleeps normally. Even now he’s caught in a deep slumber, chasing dreams behind his eyelids. Junsu idly lays his fingers against Yoochun’s hip.
“Stop staring at me,” Yoochun mumbles, thick with sleep and swallowed down smiles. He opens one eye and regards Junsu suspiciously.
Junsu grins and digs his fingers in. “You always stare at me.”
Yoochun gives in and shifts, both eyes open and slow waking up. “That’s because you’re prettier than me,” he says.
“Maybe twenty years ago,” Junsu teases. “Now we’re both ugly.” A smile is Yoochun’s only response. He reaches out and tries to smooth a crease between Junsu’s brows. “Do you ever wish we had grandchildren?” Junsu asks, taking Yoochun’s hand away and lacing their fingers together.
Yoochun moves closer to Junsu as if by design. “Yunho has enough for all of us. You’re more than enough for me.” He lifts their joined hands and shakily kisses Junsu’s knuckles.
Junsu wrinkles his nose and then chuckles. “Somehow, you’ve lost your grease.”
Yoochun’s smile stays strong. They lie in bed a few moments longer, curled together and breathing softly. They have the rest of their lives to live.
68.
Yoochun finds Junsu leaning against a tree. The cemetery fans out behind them in rows and rows of multi-coloured stone. Junsu’s eyes are closed but his face is relaxed, colour returning to his cheeks. Yoochun stands a respectable distance away from him. Sometimes Junsu needs to feel alone in the crowd. The people here are silent, always listening. Yoochun watches and waits.
“Please come here,” Junsu murmurs, holding out his hand. His eyes remain closed.
Yoochun goes to him and lets Junsu cling until his breathing evens out against Yoochun’s shoulder. “Okay?” Yoochun whispers gently.
Junsu sighs quietly and pulls back, eyes open and warm. “Yeah. Just… you know?”
Yoochun nods. “I know.”
Junsu cups Yoochun’s jaw. “Everybody dies,” he says, slight question in his intonation.
Yoochun smiles and curls his fingers over Junsu’s. “They do. But then they become angels, eternally young and beautiful and perky and they party all night long.”
Junsu laughs and presses his thumb to Yoochun’s mouth. “That’s not how it works.”
Yoochun shrugs. “Do you feel better?”
“Yeah,” Junsu admits, still smiling.
“Then it works.” Yoochun steps back from Junsu and looks around. Everything is impossibly still and silent. “Do you want to get something to eat?” he asks.
Junsu shakes his head. “Can we stay awhile?”
They stay awhile and sit by the tree, pulling grass from the ground and talking to the angels.
55.
Yoochun raises an amused eyebrow as Junsu nearly walks into a doorframe out of excitement. He gives the estate agent an apologetic smile but she just shakes her head, smiling. They’ve been looking at houses all day and this is the first one that Junsu has shown any enthusiasm for. So far he’s shouted at Yoochun to look at every single room, the view from the kitchen, the fireplace in the living room and the mammoth bath tub. The old house is too small for everything they’ve collected over the past fifteen years and Yoochun knows that Junsu is itching for space.
On cue, Junsu yells, “Yoochun, you have to see the master bedroom!”
Yoochun can’t help but laugh. He touches the estate agent’s arm and says, “Is it okay if we have a minute to talk about the house? I’m pretty sure we’ll be signing once I’ve calmed him down.”
She obliges, blushing slightly as she slips downstairs.
“Yoochun!” Junsu calls impatiently. “Come on, slowpoke.”
Yoochun follows the sound of Junsu’s voice and finds him sprawled out over the floorboards of a huge bedroom. His limbs are spread out like a starfish and Yoochun kneels down in the space between an arm and a leg. “What are you doing?” he asks lightly.
Junsu grins up at him. “This is where the bed will go. A really big one.”
“Pervert,” Yoochun says fondly. “At our age, tsk.”
Junsu rolls his eyes. “We’re not ancient. We’re not Jaejoong.”
Yoochun laughs before he can help himself. He eases down to lie next to Junsu and stares up at the ceiling. The swirls in the paint make him dizzy and he turns his head to look at Junsu’s profile. “Is this the one?”
Junsu looks at him, heartbreakingly happy. “I want it,” he whispers. “I want this to be our house.”
Yoochun shuffles down to rest his head against Junsu’s shoulder. He can imagine their lives in this house. Can imagine waking up with Junsu in this room every morning until they’re old and wrinkly. Can imagine being happy here.
“A really big bed,” Junsu stresses and Yoochun laughs so hard that he cries.
40.
Junsu smiles as Yoochun presses him against the apartment door and kisses him hard. They’ve been out for the day - shopping, a movie and dinner. Mundane, boring things that every couple does. Yoochun sighs happily into Junsu’s mouth and Junsu can’t take it anymore. He breaks away and laughs. “We should do this inside, you know?”
Yoochun opens his eyes slowly and this time he sighs in resignation. “Why didn’t we go to your apartment,” he grumbles, fishing around his pockets for his keys. “It’s closer. We need to get a house or something.”
Junsu’s heart stutters in his chest. “Okay,” he breathes. “Let’s do it.”
Yoochun pauses with his key in the lock and stares at Junsu. “You mean…?”
Junsu nods nervously.
Yoochun lets out a little choked noise and kisses Junsu with so much love that Junsu can almost taste it. He forces himself to break away again before they end up naked in the hallway. “Come on,” he coaxes. “We need to get inside.”
Yoochun nods eagerly and opens the door in a hurry. He flicks the lights on and they’re both drowned in a chorus of happy birthday. Yoochun jumps about a mile in the air and Junsu laughs, making sure to sing loudest of all. Their friends smother Yoochun in hugs and well wishes and cake, as per tradition, and later Junsu can still taste the sugar in Yoochun’s kiss.
32.
Junsu holds Yoochun close, not being able to bear the thought of cold air between them. Yoochun moves slow and strong inside him, heat building with every push and pull. Junsu presses his mouth to Yoochun’s throat and pants, “I love you, I love you,” over and over again until he’s sure that the words saturate Yoochun’s skin.
31.
Yoochun thinks that he might be drunk, too drowned in expensive vodka and cheap thoughts. He blinks twice, screws his eyes up tight before opening them wide. Junsu is still in front of him. Still saying he’s sorry. Still asking to come in. At least, that’s what Yoochun assumes he’s saying. All he can hear are the last words Junsu said to him in private.
He slams the door in Junsu’s face and wanders into the living room. He stares at the table and debates throwing it across the room. Not going to happen, he decides. He’ll just end up dislocating his shoulder and having to buy a whole lot of new shit for the room.
The blinking light of the cordless phone recharger distracts him. Sighing, he picks up the phone and walks back to the door. He can’t hear Junsu on the other side but he can see shadows moving through the gap above the floor.
Junsu answers his phone halfway through the first ring. “Hello?” he says shyly.
Yoochun closes his eyes and turns his back to the door. He slides down the smooth wood until he’s sitting, knees bent. “Okay,” he croaks into the receiver. “Talk.”
29.
“What do you mean ‘wrong’?” Yoochun replies, his fists clenching.
Junsu swallows down a rush of guilt. Yoochun knows very well what he means. Yoochun, for all his sins, went to church too. “We just can’t anymore, okay?” he says, forcing his voice to be quiet.
“So you waited six years to tell me this?”
Junsu’s patience snaps. “We’re hardly serious, Yoochun. It’s affecting our work. We said we’d stop.”
The simmering anger seems to fade from Yoochun’s body, bleeding into something infinitely more tragic. Junsu almost hates him for it. What’s worse is that Yoochun doesn’t even cry. He just turns away, blank. Look at me, Junsu thinks desperately, look at me and convince me.
“Okay,” Yoochun finally says. “Whatever you want.”
They sit next to each other in the van on the way to the next interview. They smile and laugh on camera, poke fun at each other like usual. Yoochun doesn’t touch Junsu at all and Junsu tries to tell himself that it’s for the best.
25.
“Are you sure?” Yoochun breathes against Junsu’s skin. “There’s no going back after this.”
Junsu swallows hard and nods. “I want to,” he assures.
Yoochun sighs and leans back, so content that it makes Junsu’s chest hurt. They fumble awkwardly and Junsu gets so nervous and frustrated that he nearly changes his mind, but Yoochun smiles at him, naked and honest and Junsu remembers to breathe. With the first press into Yoochun’s body, Junsu cries out and feels suddenly lost. Yoochun’s touch grounds him and Junsu feels the tension melt away.
23.
Yoochun frowns into his pillow as sleep fades further and further away, leaving only reality to seep in as replacement. He moans pitifully and scoots back, trying to evade the nastiness that lucidity provides. He bumps clumsily into a warm body. Confusion sets in momentarily and Yoochun has to roll over and see Junsu to remember that they’re sharing a bed. Yoochun wasn’t meant to stay at the apartment last night.
Junsu mumbles in his sleep and shifts towards Yoochun instinctively. Yoochun raises a sleepy eyebrow as a definite hardness brushes against his thigh. He smiles at Junsu’s sleep-relaxed face and whispers, “Sweet dreams, huh?” Junsu hums in response and Yoochun feels more than a little affection for the boy who sings in his sleep. He allows himself a selfish moment of touch, a brush of fingertips against Junsu’s stomach. Junsu sighs and shifts even closer and Yoochun has to swallow down a surge of lust. He takes his hand away reluctantly, not wishing to be intrusive and creepy.
“Don’t just stop,” Junsu murmurs.
Yoochun freezes. He doesn’t even dare to breathe until Junsu blinks his eyes open and looks at him curiously. “What?” Yoochun says, barely audible.
Junsu takes Yoochun’s hand and slides it into his pants. Yoochun’s breath catches. “I said don’t stop,” Junsu reiterates. He feels his way along Yoochun’s thigh and smiles when he finds Yoochun’s reaction, squeezing gently.
“Okay,” Yoochun says, already half-dazed with pleasure.
They touch each other in the dark, silence broken only by heavy breathing and increasing heartbeats. Junsu feels clumsy and warm and perfect and Yoochun is sure that it’s going to be over before he can enjoy it because Junsu won’t stop looking at him, won’t break his gaze. Junsu lets out a broken gasp as he comes and Yoochun closes his eyes and thinks oh, oh I love you and hopes against hope that he doesn’t say it out loud.
18.
“Nervous?” Junsu asks, just for something to say. He’s pacing back and forth backstage and torn between wanting to vomit or wet himself.
Yoochun sits down in one of the plastic chairs and looks decidedly pale. “Shitting myself,” he answers.
Junsu stops pacing and sits down next to Yoochun and holds his hand for comfort. “We’ll be amazing. I promise.”
Yoochun clutches Junsu’s hand in a death grip and laughs, only slightly hysterically. Junsu giggles at him and soon they’re both laughing until their sides hurt. Changmin passes them, taking a wide berth on the crazy. Junsu grins manically at him.
“Two minutes,” someone shouts.
“Oh god,” Yoochun says weakly. Junsu pulls him up, their hands still linked. Yoochun pulls him into a tight hug and presses his face into Junsu’s neck. “Xiah Junsu, fighting,” he whispers.
Junsu pats Yoochun’s back awkwardly, shy from the attention but pleased all the same. “Micky Yoochun, fighting,” he replies in kind. “I promise that I’ll be the first one who screws up, okay?”
Before Yoochun can reply, they get pulled into a group hug and Yunho says a prayer for them all. They break away to get ready and Yoochun flashes a warm smile at Junsu. Junsu’s stomach clenches and he gets the first inkling of maybe this is love.
17.
“Hi! I’m Kim Junsu, nice to meet you.”
Yoochun looks up at the boy with the ridiculously huge smile and feels his own mouth curving upwards. He holds out his hand. Kim Junsu stares at in confusion for a second before laughing ridiculously loudly and shaking it in earnest.
“Park Yoochun,” Yoochun says. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Junsu/Yoochun
~2200w. PG-13
A love story in reverse.
For xiahki because I owe her about 83459 YooSu stories♥
73.
Junsu stretches as the morning sunshine creeps across the bed in warm stripes. He smiles and rolls over carefully towards Yoochun. For just a moment, he watches the shadows and highlights fade across Yoochun’s face. These days, Yoochun sleeps normally. Even now he’s caught in a deep slumber, chasing dreams behind his eyelids. Junsu idly lays his fingers against Yoochun’s hip.
“Stop staring at me,” Yoochun mumbles, thick with sleep and swallowed down smiles. He opens one eye and regards Junsu suspiciously.
Junsu grins and digs his fingers in. “You always stare at me.”
Yoochun gives in and shifts, both eyes open and slow waking up. “That’s because you’re prettier than me,” he says.
“Maybe twenty years ago,” Junsu teases. “Now we’re both ugly.” A smile is Yoochun’s only response. He reaches out and tries to smooth a crease between Junsu’s brows. “Do you ever wish we had grandchildren?” Junsu asks, taking Yoochun’s hand away and lacing their fingers together.
Yoochun moves closer to Junsu as if by design. “Yunho has enough for all of us. You’re more than enough for me.” He lifts their joined hands and shakily kisses Junsu’s knuckles.
Junsu wrinkles his nose and then chuckles. “Somehow, you’ve lost your grease.”
Yoochun’s smile stays strong. They lie in bed a few moments longer, curled together and breathing softly. They have the rest of their lives to live.
68.
Yoochun finds Junsu leaning against a tree. The cemetery fans out behind them in rows and rows of multi-coloured stone. Junsu’s eyes are closed but his face is relaxed, colour returning to his cheeks. Yoochun stands a respectable distance away from him. Sometimes Junsu needs to feel alone in the crowd. The people here are silent, always listening. Yoochun watches and waits.
“Please come here,” Junsu murmurs, holding out his hand. His eyes remain closed.
Yoochun goes to him and lets Junsu cling until his breathing evens out against Yoochun’s shoulder. “Okay?” Yoochun whispers gently.
Junsu sighs quietly and pulls back, eyes open and warm. “Yeah. Just… you know?”
Yoochun nods. “I know.”
Junsu cups Yoochun’s jaw. “Everybody dies,” he says, slight question in his intonation.
Yoochun smiles and curls his fingers over Junsu’s. “They do. But then they become angels, eternally young and beautiful and perky and they party all night long.”
Junsu laughs and presses his thumb to Yoochun’s mouth. “That’s not how it works.”
Yoochun shrugs. “Do you feel better?”
“Yeah,” Junsu admits, still smiling.
“Then it works.” Yoochun steps back from Junsu and looks around. Everything is impossibly still and silent. “Do you want to get something to eat?” he asks.
Junsu shakes his head. “Can we stay awhile?”
They stay awhile and sit by the tree, pulling grass from the ground and talking to the angels.
55.
Yoochun raises an amused eyebrow as Junsu nearly walks into a doorframe out of excitement. He gives the estate agent an apologetic smile but she just shakes her head, smiling. They’ve been looking at houses all day and this is the first one that Junsu has shown any enthusiasm for. So far he’s shouted at Yoochun to look at every single room, the view from the kitchen, the fireplace in the living room and the mammoth bath tub. The old house is too small for everything they’ve collected over the past fifteen years and Yoochun knows that Junsu is itching for space.
On cue, Junsu yells, “Yoochun, you have to see the master bedroom!”
Yoochun can’t help but laugh. He touches the estate agent’s arm and says, “Is it okay if we have a minute to talk about the house? I’m pretty sure we’ll be signing once I’ve calmed him down.”
She obliges, blushing slightly as she slips downstairs.
“Yoochun!” Junsu calls impatiently. “Come on, slowpoke.”
Yoochun follows the sound of Junsu’s voice and finds him sprawled out over the floorboards of a huge bedroom. His limbs are spread out like a starfish and Yoochun kneels down in the space between an arm and a leg. “What are you doing?” he asks lightly.
Junsu grins up at him. “This is where the bed will go. A really big one.”
“Pervert,” Yoochun says fondly. “At our age, tsk.”
Junsu rolls his eyes. “We’re not ancient. We’re not Jaejoong.”
Yoochun laughs before he can help himself. He eases down to lie next to Junsu and stares up at the ceiling. The swirls in the paint make him dizzy and he turns his head to look at Junsu’s profile. “Is this the one?”
Junsu looks at him, heartbreakingly happy. “I want it,” he whispers. “I want this to be our house.”
Yoochun shuffles down to rest his head against Junsu’s shoulder. He can imagine their lives in this house. Can imagine waking up with Junsu in this room every morning until they’re old and wrinkly. Can imagine being happy here.
“A really big bed,” Junsu stresses and Yoochun laughs so hard that he cries.
40.
Junsu smiles as Yoochun presses him against the apartment door and kisses him hard. They’ve been out for the day - shopping, a movie and dinner. Mundane, boring things that every couple does. Yoochun sighs happily into Junsu’s mouth and Junsu can’t take it anymore. He breaks away and laughs. “We should do this inside, you know?”
Yoochun opens his eyes slowly and this time he sighs in resignation. “Why didn’t we go to your apartment,” he grumbles, fishing around his pockets for his keys. “It’s closer. We need to get a house or something.”
Junsu’s heart stutters in his chest. “Okay,” he breathes. “Let’s do it.”
Yoochun pauses with his key in the lock and stares at Junsu. “You mean…?”
Junsu nods nervously.
Yoochun lets out a little choked noise and kisses Junsu with so much love that Junsu can almost taste it. He forces himself to break away again before they end up naked in the hallway. “Come on,” he coaxes. “We need to get inside.”
Yoochun nods eagerly and opens the door in a hurry. He flicks the lights on and they’re both drowned in a chorus of happy birthday. Yoochun jumps about a mile in the air and Junsu laughs, making sure to sing loudest of all. Their friends smother Yoochun in hugs and well wishes and cake, as per tradition, and later Junsu can still taste the sugar in Yoochun’s kiss.
32.
Junsu holds Yoochun close, not being able to bear the thought of cold air between them. Yoochun moves slow and strong inside him, heat building with every push and pull. Junsu presses his mouth to Yoochun’s throat and pants, “I love you, I love you,” over and over again until he’s sure that the words saturate Yoochun’s skin.
31.
Yoochun thinks that he might be drunk, too drowned in expensive vodka and cheap thoughts. He blinks twice, screws his eyes up tight before opening them wide. Junsu is still in front of him. Still saying he’s sorry. Still asking to come in. At least, that’s what Yoochun assumes he’s saying. All he can hear are the last words Junsu said to him in private.
He slams the door in Junsu’s face and wanders into the living room. He stares at the table and debates throwing it across the room. Not going to happen, he decides. He’ll just end up dislocating his shoulder and having to buy a whole lot of new shit for the room.
The blinking light of the cordless phone recharger distracts him. Sighing, he picks up the phone and walks back to the door. He can’t hear Junsu on the other side but he can see shadows moving through the gap above the floor.
Junsu answers his phone halfway through the first ring. “Hello?” he says shyly.
Yoochun closes his eyes and turns his back to the door. He slides down the smooth wood until he’s sitting, knees bent. “Okay,” he croaks into the receiver. “Talk.”
29.
“What do you mean ‘wrong’?” Yoochun replies, his fists clenching.
Junsu swallows down a rush of guilt. Yoochun knows very well what he means. Yoochun, for all his sins, went to church too. “We just can’t anymore, okay?” he says, forcing his voice to be quiet.
“So you waited six years to tell me this?”
Junsu’s patience snaps. “We’re hardly serious, Yoochun. It’s affecting our work. We said we’d stop.”
The simmering anger seems to fade from Yoochun’s body, bleeding into something infinitely more tragic. Junsu almost hates him for it. What’s worse is that Yoochun doesn’t even cry. He just turns away, blank. Look at me, Junsu thinks desperately, look at me and convince me.
“Okay,” Yoochun finally says. “Whatever you want.”
They sit next to each other in the van on the way to the next interview. They smile and laugh on camera, poke fun at each other like usual. Yoochun doesn’t touch Junsu at all and Junsu tries to tell himself that it’s for the best.
25.
“Are you sure?” Yoochun breathes against Junsu’s skin. “There’s no going back after this.”
Junsu swallows hard and nods. “I want to,” he assures.
Yoochun sighs and leans back, so content that it makes Junsu’s chest hurt. They fumble awkwardly and Junsu gets so nervous and frustrated that he nearly changes his mind, but Yoochun smiles at him, naked and honest and Junsu remembers to breathe. With the first press into Yoochun’s body, Junsu cries out and feels suddenly lost. Yoochun’s touch grounds him and Junsu feels the tension melt away.
23.
Yoochun frowns into his pillow as sleep fades further and further away, leaving only reality to seep in as replacement. He moans pitifully and scoots back, trying to evade the nastiness that lucidity provides. He bumps clumsily into a warm body. Confusion sets in momentarily and Yoochun has to roll over and see Junsu to remember that they’re sharing a bed. Yoochun wasn’t meant to stay at the apartment last night.
Junsu mumbles in his sleep and shifts towards Yoochun instinctively. Yoochun raises a sleepy eyebrow as a definite hardness brushes against his thigh. He smiles at Junsu’s sleep-relaxed face and whispers, “Sweet dreams, huh?” Junsu hums in response and Yoochun feels more than a little affection for the boy who sings in his sleep. He allows himself a selfish moment of touch, a brush of fingertips against Junsu’s stomach. Junsu sighs and shifts even closer and Yoochun has to swallow down a surge of lust. He takes his hand away reluctantly, not wishing to be intrusive and creepy.
“Don’t just stop,” Junsu murmurs.
Yoochun freezes. He doesn’t even dare to breathe until Junsu blinks his eyes open and looks at him curiously. “What?” Yoochun says, barely audible.
Junsu takes Yoochun’s hand and slides it into his pants. Yoochun’s breath catches. “I said don’t stop,” Junsu reiterates. He feels his way along Yoochun’s thigh and smiles when he finds Yoochun’s reaction, squeezing gently.
“Okay,” Yoochun says, already half-dazed with pleasure.
They touch each other in the dark, silence broken only by heavy breathing and increasing heartbeats. Junsu feels clumsy and warm and perfect and Yoochun is sure that it’s going to be over before he can enjoy it because Junsu won’t stop looking at him, won’t break his gaze. Junsu lets out a broken gasp as he comes and Yoochun closes his eyes and thinks oh, oh I love you and hopes against hope that he doesn’t say it out loud.
18.
“Nervous?” Junsu asks, just for something to say. He’s pacing back and forth backstage and torn between wanting to vomit or wet himself.
Yoochun sits down in one of the plastic chairs and looks decidedly pale. “Shitting myself,” he answers.
Junsu stops pacing and sits down next to Yoochun and holds his hand for comfort. “We’ll be amazing. I promise.”
Yoochun clutches Junsu’s hand in a death grip and laughs, only slightly hysterically. Junsu giggles at him and soon they’re both laughing until their sides hurt. Changmin passes them, taking a wide berth on the crazy. Junsu grins manically at him.
“Two minutes,” someone shouts.
“Oh god,” Yoochun says weakly. Junsu pulls him up, their hands still linked. Yoochun pulls him into a tight hug and presses his face into Junsu’s neck. “Xiah Junsu, fighting,” he whispers.
Junsu pats Yoochun’s back awkwardly, shy from the attention but pleased all the same. “Micky Yoochun, fighting,” he replies in kind. “I promise that I’ll be the first one who screws up, okay?”
Before Yoochun can reply, they get pulled into a group hug and Yunho says a prayer for them all. They break away to get ready and Yoochun flashes a warm smile at Junsu. Junsu’s stomach clenches and he gets the first inkling of maybe this is love.
17.
“Hi! I’m Kim Junsu, nice to meet you.”
Yoochun looks up at the boy with the ridiculously huge smile and feels his own mouth curving upwards. He holds out his hand. Kim Junsu stares at in confusion for a second before laughing ridiculously loudly and shaking it in earnest.
“Park Yoochun,” Yoochun says. “Nice to meet you, too.”