rumor has it - part one
Real-life with a twist. When Yunho and Changmin withdrew their lawsuit, it gave many fans the impression that their Rising Gods of the East had suddenly turned on each other. What, then, was the real story behind all the rumors?
Pairings: mild Yunjae, mild Yoosu, Homin
Rated: PG-14 for drama, violence, very slight mature content, angst angst angst
~
Changmin sighs in frustration, yanking his iPod’s earbuds out with more force than necessary. He tries to ignore the raised voices from the hallway, glaring at the blinking cursor on the computer screen that is definitely taunting him and his lack of progress on the history essay that’s due tomorrow. How am I supposed to care about the Thirty Years’ War when there’s a war about to start right fuckin here?
Yoochun is curled up on the bed behind him, a pillow pressed over his face in an attempt both to block out the argument outside and to muffle his own sobs. Changmin flicks a worried glance over his shoulder, wondering if he should go retrieve Junsu from wherever the older man is hiding. Junsu will probably know how to calm Yoochun down.
With that thought in mind, Changmin stands and creeps cautiously towards the door, opening it just a crack. Just then, Jaejoong lets out a vicious growl and throws the nearest object-a textbook-at Yunho’s head. His aim hasn’t improved with his temper and Changmin has just barely shut the door before the book slams into it.
He slumps back against the door, massaging his forehead. As much as he hates to admit it, it’s definitely much better when Yunho and Jaejoong are holed up in their own room doing their own thing, instead of fighting like this.
There’s the sound of stomping footsteps and Yunho’s voice pierces the air again. “Kim Jaejoong, don’t you dare walk off when I’m talking to you!”
“You’re not my leader anymore,” Jaejoong retorts ruthlessly. “I’ll do whatever I want.”
More scuffling, a harsh slap, and then a series of loud thumps before the house falls deathly silent. Changmin hears a door open downstairs, slowly, and then Junsu screams. “Yunho hyung!”
Yoochun bolts out of bed, waiting impatiently as Changmin tries to get the door open, fingers trembling with terror and nearly slipping on the brass doorknob. He finally manages to fling the door open with a crash, shoving roughly past Jaejoong, who’s frozen with shock, and sprinting down the stairs, nearly slipping on the hardwood.
Yunho is sprawled at the foot of the stairs, unmoving, his head falling limply against Junsu’s arm when the younger man crouches next to him, hardly breathing as he tries to shake Yunho awake. “Hyung, hyung, hyung, please...”
Changmin kneels at Yunho’s side, hands fluttering frantically over Yunho’s chest as he tries to remember what little medical training he knows. Check his pulse, his breathing...what else?
Jaejoong comes down the stairs, shakily, eyes wide with horror as he reaches for Yunho’s hand. Changmin slaps his hand away, no longer playfighting. “Call the ambulance.”
“But the fans,” Jaejoong tries to protest.
Changmin glares at him, not bothering to hide all his anger and utter, utter hatred for stupid self-important Kim fucking Jaejoong right now. “I don’t give a damn about the fans hyung,” he hisses. “Call the ambulance.”
Jaejoong swallows and shuffles off quickly. He snatches up his cellphone from where it’s lying on the couch and dials a number they never expected they needed to. “This is Tohoshinki’s Kim Jaejoong,” Changmin hears him say. “Yes. Can you get an ambulance on the way? Yunho...fell down the stairs.”
What a fucking lie, Changmin thinks. He turns to Junsu, mouth open to ask him a question, but then Junsu shifts Yunho in his arms and Changmin sees the bloodstain on the sleeve of Junsu’s shirt. He feels bile rise in his throat and nearly trips over himself as he runs for the bathroom, retching into the sink.
He remains hunched over the sink for a few long moments, his fingers clenching over the marble rim. The only sounds he can hear are his own ragged gasps and the blood rushing in his ears, before there’s a knock on the door.
“Changmin ah,” Yoochun says through the door. He sounds like he’s pressing his face against the wood. “The ambulance is on its way.”
“Thanks,” Changmin manages, forcing his voice not to tremble.
He straightens up slowly, steadying himself when his head spins. Splashing water on his face and rinsing his mouth, he goes back out into the hallway just as the ambulance pulls up in front of their apartment, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
There’s utter chaos as Jaejoong begs and pleads and refuses to be separated from Yunho, a desperate mix of Korean and Japanese spilling from his mouth, and finally the EMS workers are forced to let Jaejoong accompany Yunho to the hospital. Changmin feels another wave of raw, nauseating anger wash over him, and only dimly registers Yoochun’s death grip on his wrist, tugging him into the car.
Junsu’s sobbing silently as Yoochun drives to the hospital, jaw clenched as he weaves through traffic with his foot never letting up on the gas pedal. They pull up in front of the hospital in record time and Changmin scrambles out of the car, rushing into the emergency room. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Junsu ripping at the sleeve of his shirt and tossing the bloodstained portion into the trash can by the doors.
Jaejoong is sitting in the waiting room, looking small and vulnerable with his legs drawn up to his chest, his face nearly hidden behind his knees. Changmin falters, and sits down next to him, ignoring everyone else in the waiting room.
Yoochun goes to park the car and then hurries back, making a beeline for Junsu and pulling the shivering younger man into his arms, wiping away the tears that are still falling fast. Changmin clenches his hand into a fist, just a little jealous because he has no one to comfort him.
The doctor comes back, looking grim. “Family of Jung Yunho?”
Changmin and Jaejoong stand at the same time, shooting each other dirty looks.
The doctor looks between them, and from the look on her face Changmin knows she’s a fan. “I’m sorry,” she says timidly, in accented Korean. “I can only let one of you go in at a time.”
“I’ll go,” Jaejoong announces, and strides away before Changmin can react.
He growls under his breath and sits down again, noticing with a pang that Yoochun still hasn’t let go of Junsu.
There’s a tense silence in the waiting room before Jaejoong comes back, a hand pressed over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs that are wracking his whole body. Yoochun looks up, alarmed, his cheek still against Junsu’s hair. “Jaejoongie hyung?”
Jaejoong shakes his head, collapsing onto the chair. Yoochun reaches around Junsu and grips his soulmate’s hand tightly. “Jaejoongie hyung, please...”
“He...” Jaejoong breaks off with another sob. “Yunho, he...he doesn’t...” He hiccups, unable to go on.
“Yunho doesn’t what,” Changmin snaps, his patience long gone.
Jaejoong looks up at him with terrified red-rimmed eyes. “He didn’t recognize me.”
Changmin is frozen in place for a long moment, silently cursing everything he knows. He scrambles to his feet, nearly knocking the chair over, and all but runs for Yunho’s hospital room, ignoring the doctor standing outside.
He pushes the door open slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light inside the room. Yunho is half-lying down, propped up by a stack of pillows, a thick bandage wrapped around his head. He looks up, noticing Changmin hovering by the door, and smiles. “Annyeonghaseyo,” he says, politely, formally, as if Changmin isn’t the young man he’d been teasing mercilessly and playing around with just yesterday.
Blinking back his tears, Changmin approaches the bed cautiously. “Yunho yah, don’t you recognize me?” he asks, desperately.
Yunho shakes his head, wincing when the motion hurts his head. “What’s your name?” he asks, still using a level of formality that Changmin has never heard from him.
He swallows. “I’m Changmin.”
He had thought he’d already seen the worst of the effects of Yunho’s injury, but nothing could have prepared him for what Yunho says next.
“Pleased to meet you, Changmin hyung.”
Oh, my God, is the only coherent thought Changmin can manage. He’d always thought he would enjoy having the others call him hyung, but now... “I’m not...” he starts, and stops when his throat chokes up. “I’m not your hyung. I’m two years younger than you.”
Yunho frowns. “Oh,” he says simply, confusion written across his handsome features.
Changmin swallows again. He doesn’t mind crying in front of Yunho, but this man lying on the hospital bed is not his Yunho. “I’ll...come back to talk to you later, okay?” he offers.
Yunho smiles again, childishly bright. “Okay.”
Changmin forces himself to walk calmly to the door and close it quietly behind him, before marching angrily back to the waiting room. Jaejoong looks up apprehensively and Changmin yanks him off his chair by the collar of his shirt, punching him in the face.
“Changmin ah,” Junsu cries out pleadingly behind him, but Changmin is done letting the others boss him around just because. He lets go of Jaejoong’s collar and punches him again, satisfied when he feels Jaejoong’s cheekbone break under his knuckles.
“Please,” Jaejoong gasps out, seizing Changmin’s wrist. “Changminnie...”
He flinches when Changmin lashes out again with his other fist, clipping Jaejoong’s jaw. “Don’t all me that,” the maknae hisses, wrenching his arm from Jaejoong’s grasp. He’s fully aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks, and finds with numb surprise that he doesn’t care. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Jaejoong crumples to his knees, reaching out to clutch at the denim of Changmin’s jeans. He looks so broken, his beautiful face bruised and stained with tears, and Changmin feels sick.
Taking a step back and tugging his leg free, he leaves Jaejoong sobbing on the floor and turns to Yoochun and Junsu. “Did you want to go in and see Yunho now?”
Yoochun looks at Junsu, touching his cheek, and a silent message passes between them, leaving Changmin feeling jealous again. “Not now,” Yoochun says, speaking for both himself and Junsu. “We’ll go see him later...when he’s sleeping.” When we won’t have to talk to him, he doesn’t say, but Changmin hears it all the same.
He nods stiffly, wiping his face, and leaves to go find the doctor.
The doctor looks tired, watching the nurses bustle around checking Yunho’s vitals. Changmin beckons her outside; he doesn’t want Yunho overhearing them. “Uisa-nim, is there anything we can do to help Yunho recover?”
“I’m not sure,” she sighs. “Injuries to the brain are always difficult to treat.” She pauses, staring at him calculatingly. He squirms under her penetrating gaze.
Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it, because she continues talking. “When you went in to talk to him earlier, what symptoms did you see?”
Changmin is embarrassed to feel tears welling up in his eyes again. “He...he didn’t recognize me. Or Jaejoong, for that matter. He...” He reaches up to swipe at his eyes, angry with himself for showing weakness. “He called me hyung,” he whispers.
His stomach drops when the doctor’s expression turns alarmed. “This is worse than I thought,” she mutters, sounding unbearably like a fan and not a doctor.
“Please,” Changmin says, close to begging, “uisa-nim, what’s wrong?”
“Do you mind coming with me?” she says instead, going back to crisp and professional. “I need to test a few things, and your presence might be helpful.”
Changmin follows her back into Yunho’s room, an uncomfortable tightness in his chest when Yunho smiles brightly at him. “Changmin ah.”
“Hello, hyung,” he says, bowing slightly. “Uisa-nim said she wanted to do a few tests, is that okay with you?”
Yunho tips his head to the side, looking painfully young. “What kinds of tests?”
“Nothing painful,” the doctor reassures him. “I just want to ask you a few questions, that’s all.”
Yunho shifts on the bed. “Okay.”
The doctor pulls up a plastic chair next to Yunho’s bed, gesturing for Changmin to do the same. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and then turns to Changmin. “Changmin sshi, before I start, I want to apologize in advance for anything that might happen.”
Changmin just nods, her words only fueling the fear building in his heart.
She pulls out a clipboard and notepad from the drawer and jots down a few notes. “Yunho sshi, how are you feeling?”
“Good,” Yunho replies. “My head hurts if I move too quickly, but other than that I’m fine.”
The doctor nods, the pen continuing to fly across the page. “What were you doing before you came to the hospital, can you remember?”
Changmin holds his breath.
Yunho’s brows furrow as he thinks. “I...can’t remember,” he says slowly. “I was...I think I was in dance practice?”
“What were you practicing?” the doctor asks, forcing her expression to remain neutral.
“Um...I can’t remember the name of the song,” Yunho hedges. “But it went something like this?” He sits up more fully and does a complicated move with one arm flung across his body, and from the fear that flashes for a brief second in the doctor’s eyes, she recognizes the dance just as well as Changmin does. It’s from the song Yunho danced to for his audition, for the part that was recorded and put online as an example for future trainees and fans.
“Yunho hyung,” Changmin says, listening to the pen scribble furiously across the page. “What’s today’s date?”
“2001, May 4,” Yunho says without hesitation.
It takes every ounce of Changmin’s willpower (and he has a lot of it, mind you) not to visibly react. The doctor is less subtle, the pen flying from her hand as her wrist shakes. She gets up from her chair to retrieve the pen, hiding her face as she dawdles longer than necessary.
“Yunho hyung,” Changmin says, voice strained, “it’s 2009, July 24.”
He can’t bear to see the look on Yunho’s face.
“Then...” Yunho says slowly, and Changmin wants to cry. “How did I get here?”
“You were fighting with Jaejoong,” he says carefully, and notes that Yunho’s eyes are empty of recognition when he hears his boyfriend’s name. “Jaejoong...pushed you down the stairs,” he continues, hoping to get a reaction out of him, never mind the doctor-slash-fangirl.
The doctor drops her pen again.
“I don’t remember,” Yunho says, and looks utterly panicked. “Changmin ah, I can’t remember any of this.”
Changmin grabs Yunho’s hand, rubbing comforting circles into the calloused skin of his palm. “It’s okay, hyung,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”
Yunho relaxes, and Changmin feels a wave of relief crash over him, followed by smugness that he was here and not Jaejoong. Then he mentally smacks himself. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t fight with Jaejoong over Yunho.
The doctor has somewhat recovered by this point, and clears her throat. “Yunho sshi, I’m going to give you a string of numbers, and I want you to repeat them back to me, okay?”
Yunho nods, his hand still in Changmin’s.
The doctor pauses to write the numbers down and then reads them off, slowly and deliberately. “7. 3. 2. 7. 4. 1. 8.”
She gives Yunho five seconds by her watch and then nods for Yunho to repeat them.
“Seven, three, two, seven, four, one, eight.”
Changmin grins.
The doctor flips to a blank page on the notepad and writes down a different string of numbers, turning the clipboard around to show them to Yunho. 7-4-1-1-7-5-5.
They go through the same procedure, again and again, and every time Yunho repeats whatever she says perfectly. The doctor smiles, a little weary but immensely relieved. “Well, Yunho sshi, it appears that you’ve lost the memories from the past eight years, but your memorization skills are still very much intact. I can’t guarantee that you’ll get back everything you’ve lost, but it’s very likely. It’s just a matter of time.” She pats Yunho on the shoulder, and leaves.
Changmin turns back to Yunho in time to see him yawn, eyelids fluttering. He half-smiles. “Hyung, you should sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“Mm,” Yunho sighs. “Okay.” He lets Changmin tuck him in, and is fast asleep within minutes.
Changmin watches him sleep for a few minutes, before he leans in daringly and gives him a quick peck on the forehead. He leaves the room as quietly as he can, heading back to the waiting room, where the doctor is telling the other three about Yunho’s current status in a mix of Japanese and Korean.
Jaejoong’s found an ice pack for his cheek and Junsu’s nearly nodding off against Yoochun’s shoulder, and Changmin hovers in the doorway until the doctor beckons him over.
“What’re we gonna do now?” Junsu asks when Changmin sits down next to them.
“I think...” the doctor hesitates, looking between the four of them. “As a fan of yours, I don’t want to say this, but as a doctor, I’m supposed to tell you that the best way to help Yunho sshi recover would probably be to not overburden him.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jaejoong asks, after a moment of silence.
“That means...” The doctor takes a deep breath. “Only one of you can stay with him for now.”
All four of them immediately erupt in loud protest, and the doctor holds up her hands. “One of you stay with him for now, teach him a little and try to help him get his memory back, and then you can slowly re-introduce his old friends to him.”
“How do we explain this to the fans, then?” Yoochun asks, absently stroking Junsu’s hair.
The doctor shrugs helplessly.
“Tell them we’re withdrawing our lawsuit,” Changmin says suddenly, and for a moment he’s not even sure who has spoken until they all turn to look at him.
“We?” Jaejoong echoes scathingly. “Who’s we?”
Changmin clenches his teeth, trying to be nice to Jaejoong if only for the sake of the fan sitting right next to them. “We meaning me and Yunho.”
“And why can’t I be the one to stay with Yunho?” Jaejoong demands, eyes flashing dangerously.
“With all due respect, Jaejoong sshi,” the doctor says, her voice small, “you were the one who got us all into this mess.”
Yoochun leans over, and Changmin feels his smirk against his earlobe. “Thankful for your fangirls now, eh?” he whispers. It’s obvious that the doctor is biased towards Changmin.
“Immensely,” Changmin whispers back. They all know Jaejoong won’t argue with the doctor because he makes it a point always to be polite to their fans.
Instead, Junsu speaks up again. “Do we have to be the ones to leave the company?”
Changmin looks at the man he’s come to love as the brother he never had, and feels a wave of guilt. It’s not Junsu’s fault Jaejoong makes mistakes. It’s not Junsu’s fault Yoochun will never leave Jaejoong’s side. It’s not Junsu’s fault he loves Yoochun too much to leave him. “Probably,” he says, and hates himself for it. “We need the money from SM to cover medical bills and living expenses.”
He hopes Junsu sees the apology in his eyes. And maybe Junsu does, because he doesn’t press further on the subject. “Can we go and see Yunho hyung now then?” he asks instead, and tugs Yoochun along with him when the doctor nods.
Jaejoong leaves with the doctor to get his cheekbone looked at, and Changmin goes out into the hallway to use the pay phone. He dials the number of Kyunghee University, and asks to speak to Cho Inwon sunsaengnim.
“Annyeonghaseyo, sunsaengnim,” he says politely when the secretary hands the phone over. “This is Shim Changmin.”
“Shim Changmin sshi, good morning,” the president of the university says warmly. “May I ask the reason for your call?”
Changmin swallows. “Actually, it’s about my acceptance to the university. I, um...there was a...family emergency that came up, and I might not be able to attend the university for a year or so. Could you...hold my spot at the university until then? I’ll call again if anything changes.”
“We can do that,” the president tells him immediately. “I hope you will be able to return to the school, Shim Changmin sshi.”
“Thank you.”
When Yunho’s discharged from the hospital, Changmin takes him home to their apartment in Korea, watching as Yunho looks around with wide curious eyes. “It’s really big,” he says, and Changmin hides a wistful pained smile by turning around to put the groceries in the refrigerator. Yunho had always complained that the apartment was much too small for five grown men.
Then again, it’s only the two of them now, the way Changmin had secretly wanted for seven long years. (Because you see, he’d loved Yunho from the very first time he watched that confident stride come towards him and heard his deep voice speak up in Changmin’s defense.)
He brushes the thought aside; Yunho will more likely than not regain his memory sooner or later, and he’ll remember how madly in love with Jaejoong he was.
Changmin knows he himself would never forget.
Even in the beginning, he’d always been the one Yunho came to for comfort, maybe because Changmin was the youngest and therefore entitled to respect the leader. He’d always worshipped Yunho just a little anyway, and lived for the moments when Yunho smiled at him and him alone. But as time passed, he noticed that there was a light in Yunho’s eyes whenever he talked about beautiful Hero Kim Jaejoong, a light that wasn’t there when he talked about anyone else, Changmin included.
Yunho had come to him one evening, cheeks flushed and eyes bright in a way that Changmin knew right away he’d never be able to make Yunho feel. “Changmin ah, Jaejoong kissed me,” he had whispered, hardly breathing as he licked his lips again. He was close enough that Changmin could smell the scent of Jaejoong’s cologne on him.
Changmin had swallowed all his feelings in that one moment, locking them away deep down somewhere, and smiled at his hyung. “I’m really happy for you, hyung,” he’d said, and Yunho had never noticed anything amiss, too caught up in his fairytale romance, so perfect it could’ve made Cinderella jealous.
Jaejoong had known, had always known, but Changmin never confronted him and he never brought up the topic either.
“Changmin ah?” Yunho says, bringing Changmin back to the present with the tone of a sixteen-year-old that’s jarringly off from his twenty-four-year-old face. “Were you planning to do something today?”
Changmin purses his lips, glancing over at the stack of his textbooks on the kitchen counter. Yunho would’ve reprimanded him for leaving them where they weren’t supposed to be, if he had been himself. “We could...do schoolwork, if you want,” he says, walking over to pick a couple of them up. “Math, or history, or-”
“History,” Yunho interrupts, and Changmin raises an eyebrow at him, his left hand on his hip with the textbooks tucked into the crook of his right arm. All of the members, Yunho included, hate history with a passion.
“I don’t mean that kind of history,” Yunho adds, motioning towards the textbook. “I mean...tell me what I’ve been doing for the past eight years,” he finishes softly.
Changmin wants to cry again, but he sits down across from Yunho and starts to talk.
He tells Yunho almost everything, about their awkward debut stage and their growing popularity, about going to Japan (he’ll have to teach Yunho Japanese again, he remarks mentally), about their albums and promotions and concerts and interviews. He reminds Yunho of everything he ever promised the fans and the members. He talks until his voice is hoarse and Yunho listens quietly to all of it.
“So...” Yunho starts, seemingly uncomfortable, when Changmin falls silent. “I’m gay?”
Changmin nods cautiously. “Your parents were okay with it, if that makes you feel better.” He keeps it to himself that most of the reason his parents were okay with the fact that their only son was gay was because he was dating Jaejoong, who’d charmed his way into their good graces.
“Were you okay with it?” Yunho presses.
“Yeah,” Changmin says, shrugging. “I mean, I’m gay too, so...” He blushes when he realizes that what he’s just said may very well be construed as an advance. After all, what’s Yunho supposed to think of the fact that he’s living with another gay man?
Yunho, thankfully, doesn’t comment, and Changmin escapes to make dinner. He puts on some music while he cooks, and although most of his playlist is old-school pop that Yunho still remembers, Shinhwa and H.O.T. and others, he did leave a few of their own songs in there. Right on cue, “The Way U Are” comes on and Yunho peers in from the living room with interest. Changmin frees a finger and leans over, about to skip to the next song, when suddenly Yunho says, “Hey, I know this song,” and starts dancing, his movements fluid and perfect like he's been practicing for years.
Changmin swallows, puts down the spatula and lowers the heat on the soup that’s simmering. He looks through the songs on his iPod again, wondering which ones Yunho’s more likely to remember, and finally decides on “Mirotic”. “Hyung, listen to this,” he says, trying to stay calm.
The familiar drumbeat echoes through the kitchen as Yunho does the dance perfectly.
Changmin goes to management after dinner, leaving Yunho at home alone, and reports on Yunho’s status, discussing hesitant plans for the future. Lee Sooman sunsaengnim is kind, and allows them a year to get Yunho back on track. “You won’t be able to perform many of your old songs when you two are able to get on stage again,” he says, tapping his pen against the table thoughtfully. “But that might not even be that suspicious, what with the supposed lawsuit going on, yes?” He pauses, scrutinizing Changmin. “Changmin sshi, do you think we should tell the other idols about Yunho's condition?”
“Yes,” Changmin says firmly. “They see us almost every day, there’d be no other way to explain it to them. The same goes for the managers, I suppose,” he adds as an afterthought
Lee Sooman nods, clearly pleased with Changmin’s answer. “I will call a meeting and inform them, then. You may go now.”
Changmin stands and bows deeply. “Thank you, sunsaengnim,” he says honestly. He pulls out his phone as he walks away down the narrow hallway, calling Yunho to let him know that he’s going to the gym and that he’ll be home around nine.
At the gym, he works out more than he usually does, pure elation running through his veins and pumping him up almost like an adrenaline rush. He works out until his muscles are trembling with fatigue and his skin is cold with sweat, and he slumps onto the nearest bench, trying to breathe evenly as he takes a few large gulps of water. After taking a quick shower, he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads home.
The apartment is dark except for a faint light from the kitchen-probably the lamp over the sink-and Changmin nearly loses his balance as he tries to close the door, kicking it shut with a little too much force. There’s a crash from the kitchen and Yunho hisses in pain; Changmin drops his bag and runs to the kitchen.
Yunho’s hunched over the sink, right hand clenched into a fist, and when Changmin peers over his shoulder, he sees a few drops of blood staining the shards of the broken plate. Yunho looks down guiltily at his feet as Changmin pulls out hydrogen peroxide and sterile tweezers and bandages from the cabinet. "What were you doing?" Changmin scolds gently as he cleans Yunho’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Yunho says miserably, and Changmin pauses in wrapping the bandage around Yunho’s palm, déjà vu sweeping over him.
One night, many years ago, Changmin had gone out alone to buy something, he doesn’t remember what anymore. On the way home, he’d noticed a taxi following him, a group of sasaeng fans sitting in the back. He’d approached them, asked them to open the window so he could ask them nicely to stop following him, but they’d closed the window on his hand and laughed, the little bitches.
The apartment was dark when Changmin got home, the other members having already gone to sleep, and he’d gone into the bathroom to wash his bleeding hand. Then Yunho had come home from the gym and seen the bathroom light on, seen the blood on Changmin’s hand. “What were you doing?” he’d scolded gently as he cleaned Changmin’s hand, but his eyes were disapproving and Changmin felt small and vulnerable next to his leader, as ever.
“I’m sorry,” he’d said instead, breath hitching embarrassingly.
But Yunho had held him close, asked him again what had happened, and Changmin had told him everything. From then on, Yunho made sure none of the members ventured out by themselves.
“Changmin ah?” Yunho asks worriedly, yanking Changmin out of the past. “Changmin ah, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Changmin murmurs, even though he’s not, tying a knot in the bandage over Yunho’s palm. He finds himself wondering how much Yunho had hidden from them in the past so he could be the leader he was convinced he needed to be.
“Sorry,” Yunho says again, hovering as Changmin cleans up the porcelain shards. “I was just trying to help.”
He sounds so small and vulnerable that Changmin can’t help but hug him, being careful not to crush his injured hand. “It’s okay,” he says. He tries to crack a joke, forcing a smile. “You were going to figure out sooner or later that your hands aren’t anywhere near as graceful as your feet, anyway.”
Yunho smiles weakly, but returns the hug.
“Tell me more about the other three,” Yunho asks later, one day when he’s caught the flu and Changmin’s busy taking care of him. “The three who left.”
Changmin strokes Yunho’s sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes, and thinks about Junsu, simply because the older man hasn’t been in contact recently. The others haven’t actually been allowed to contact him, both because of the ‘lawsuit’ and because Changmin is afraid of stressing Yunho out too much, but Junsu still calls most nights when Yunho and the manager are asleep. It’s okay, better than okay actually, because sometimes the memories that Yunho can’t remember are too much and Changmin just needs someone to talk to.
“Junsu,” he says, and chuckles quietly. He dabs at Yunho’s forehead with a damp towel. “Junsu worshipped you. Said you were like a father to him. He’s amazing at dancing and even better at singing, and his rapping isn’t half-bad either,” he continues, praising Junsu like he never will to his face. “He probably inherited his huge heart from you,” he teases, “and he’s too nice sometimes, but he’s pretty much perfect. You were so proud of him.”
Then he tells Yunho about Yoochun, his former rap partner and partner-in-crime. About how they’d been best friends, pulling pranks together and then turning around and plastering on innocent expressions that fooled no one but Jaejoong, which was unfortunate because Jaejoong, as the oldest, had the final say on most things.
He has to talk about Jaejoong after that, when he realizes he’s run out of reasons not to talk about him. About how Jaejoong has the voice of an angel, and how when he sang about the agony of being in love, it would move an entire audience of a hundred thousand to tears. He decides to keep it to himself that it was unfair, because Jaejoong had never, ever experienced the true agony of being in love with someone who would never even look at you. “You were in love with him before all this happened,” Changmin whispers, fingering the quilt that he’s draped over Yunho. “You swore you’d never, ever leave him ‘until death do us part’,” he quotes bitterly, “because he was the most beautiful, perfect person you’d ever met.”
Yunho surprises him by touching his cheek, tenderly, his fingers tracing down Changmin’s jawline before tipping his chin up so their eyes meet. “I think you’re more beautiful,” he says.
“You don’t even remember what Jaejoong looks like,” Changmin mutters, his voice choked. It’s just the fever talking, he tries to tell himself.
“I think you’re more perfect, too,” Yunho continues, ignoring him. “You take care of me, even though it should probably be the other way around, and you never get mad at me even when I make stupid mistakes.”
Changmin tries to protest that too, but later when he’s in his own bed, he selfishly replays Yunho’s words over and over, basking in the feeling of being loved even though he’s pretty sure he’ll never hear it again.
Somehow, Jungsu, Yunho’s leader-buddy from Super Junior, hears word of Yunho catching the flu, and surprises them with a plate of Ryeowook’s cooking and a bowl of samgyetang. Changmin eyes the food hungrily but tells Jungsu to bring it to Yunho. Jungsu hovers in the hallway outside Yunho’s bedroom, hesitating. “Can I see him this time?”
“Sure, why not?” Changmin replies, taking the plate from him, and pushes Yunho’s door open. “Yunho hyung? Jungsu hyung brought food.”
“Jungsu sshi?” Yunho asks from the bed, sliding his glasses on. He still hasn’t gotten used to contacts, or his retainers for that matter. “It’s nice to see you, Jungsu sshi.”
“Good to see you too, Yunho sshi,” Jungsu replies warmly, sitting down on the edge of Yunho’s bed and placing the bowl carefully on the table next to the bed. “Ryeowook heard you were sick and made some food for you. Your favorite, if I recall correctly,” he adds, eyes twinkling.
Yunho’s eyes light up at the sight of the food. “Tell Ryeowookie I said thanks,” he says brightly, before turning to Changmin. “Changmin ah,” he whines, opening his mouth expectantly. “I’m hungry...”
Changmin chuckles, balancing the plate in one hand so he can feed Yunho. “At this rate, hyung, you’re going to gain a lot of weight,” he teases.
“Nuh-uh,” Yunho responds petulantly, and Changmin just chuckles again, poking another slice of bulgogi into Yunho’s mouth to appease him.
He just barely catches Jungsu’s look of concerned disapproval over his shoulder.
Yunho finishes half the plate before insisting that Changmin have the rest, so Changmin leaves Jungsu and Yunho to talk while he goes to put the plate in the refrigerator for later. As expected, after a few minutes, Jungsu comes down the stairs, looking for Changmin. He pretends to busy himself with checking their food supply.
“Changmin sshi?” Jungsu asks hesitantly from the other side of the refrigerator door. Changmin straightens up slowly, shuts the door before turning to face him.
Jungsu swallows. “As your hyung, I feel obligated to-”
“Cut the fancy talk, hyung,” Changmin interrupts, trying not to sound too rude. He just wants to get this over with. “It’s about Yunho, isn’t it? Because if you’re trying to tell me that it’s not worth it, trying to get our old leader-sshi back, save your breath.”
Jungsu half-smiles. “Yunho is very lucky to have such a loving dongsaeng. But no, that’s not what I was going to say.” The smile drops from his face. “It’s about you.”
Changmin pauses, a little thrown off. “What about me?”
Jungsu sighs, suddenly looking his age, and Changmin is suddenly, absurdly reminded that Jungsu has twelve plus two members to take care of while he only has one. That thought alone is enough to quash any inclination to be impolite. “I’m not blind, Changmin sshi,” Jungsu says gently. “I can see the way you look at Yunho. All I want to say is, be careful.”
“I know,” Changmin sighs. “I’m afraid that when he gets his memory back, he’ll just go back to Jaejoong and go back to treating me like his maknae again.”
Jungsu grips his shoulder in comfort. “I’m not saying that you should be afraid to take risks with your feelings about Yunho,” he tells him. “I’m just saying...aish, I don’t know how to say this. It’s just...it’s not impossible for you to earn Yunho’s heart without giving everything you have.” He smiles tiredly at Changmin. “I hope you can be happy,” he says, and leaves in a graceful flurry, leaving Changmin’s thoughts whirling.
“Changdol ah,” Yunho calls from upstairs, and Changmin heads back upstairs, cursing his heart for fluttering at Yunho’s affectionate nickname.
He finds the soup bowl empty on the bedside table and Yunho in the bathroom struggling to put his left contact in. Changmin leans against the doorframe, waiting until Yunho accomplishes his mission and turns to him with a blinding smile. “Dance practice?”
“But you’re sick,” Changmin tries to protest as he’s dragged along, out the door and down the street to their practice rooms.
“Doesn’t matter,” Yunho says dismissively, pulling the door open and depositing Changmin inside. “My legs are still working fine.”
Changmin has to smile at Yunho’s tenacity, and proceeds to teach him the dances for “Rising Sun” and “Somebody to Love”.
Yunho is clumsier now, lacking the grace he used to carry himself with, and Changmin finds himself stooping to offer Yunho a hand far more often, in yet another reversal of their previous situations. But Yunho is, as always, is a fast learner and eager to get back on the stage. He rushes through the filming of the final episodes for Heading to the Ground, much to Ara’s and the PDs’ frustration, especially when the rankings of the drama continue to fall. Changmin just shrugs; less time on the drama means more time for Yunho to catch up on other things.
Finally, after almost a year and a half, they’re deemed ready to return as the new TVXQ.
Yunho is ecstatic, and actually asks Changmin if they can go out drinking. Changmin raises an eyebrow, but acquiesces, a decision he later regrets.
Yunho used to be extremely clingy when he got drunk, before he broke the habit due to the potential scandal if any cameras caught him. Changmin’s forgotten that this Yunho still hasn’t broken that habit. They’d gone to a more private bar, luckily, but when they get home and Yunho is still draping himself all over Changmin, it gets a bit irritating.
Changmin pries Yunho off of him, meaning to get Yunho to go to bed, but abruptly, Yunho turns around and pins Changmin against the wall, pressing their lips together in a sloppy kiss. Changmin gasps, and fumbles for a few moments before he manages to push Yunho away. “What are you doing?” he exclaims, his brain still not exactly working right.
“Changmin ah,” Yunho slurs, runs his fingers through Changmin’s hair. “You’re so beautiful.”
Gritting his teeth, Changmin reminds himself that Yunho’s drunk and doesn’t know what he’s saying. “Yunho hyung, you’ve had too much to drink,” he says coolly. “You should go to sleep before you do something you’ll regret later.” His voice shakes just slightly when he thinks that he’s probably always been Yunho’s regret. After all, all those times that Yunho had hugged him or played around with him, only to have to deal with a jealous Jaejoong afterwards...
Yunho just looks at him, suddenly seeming perfectly sober, and Changmin swallows dryly. “I’m not going to regret this, Changmin ah,” he says, leaning closer again.
Changmin pushes him away again, none too kindly. “Maybe I will,” he says before he can think about what’s coming out of his mouth.
“Don’t you love me, Changmin ah?” Yunho murmurs, still much too close, and Changmin swears his heart is trying to beat out of his chest.
“As a leader and a hyung,” he replies evenly, and walks away. “Good night, hyung.” He locks his bedroom door behind him, buries his face in his pillow, and cries until his eyes ache and his head is spinning.
He wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and only vague memories of what had happened last night, and Yunho doesn’t mention it either.