"Lingering" [1/1]
Title: Lingering [1/1]
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yunho
Genre: AU, angst/romance
Warnings: No happy ending?
Words: 3544
Summary: If he looks and feels the same, is he still the same? Maybe Jaejoong knew the answer all along.
A/N: Secret Santa fic for kioku_kagami at hug______.
"Yunho?"
He swallowed, coughed a little, and tried again. "Yunho."
The other man looked up at him. "Jaejoong...I didn't even hear you come in." The kind smile that he was known for spread across his face and the blonde man found himself breathing easier, laughter bubbling up from some part of him that he could not identify.
It might have been hysteria or profound relief.
"I just thought I'd bring you lunch. And make you dinner tonight." Instinctively he leaned down and their lips met, sweetly. When he drew away, he set the bag down, trying to hide the trembling that he was unable to stop.
"Thank you," Yunho said, and he untied the bag with a slowness that Jaejoong watched closely.
"Are you feeling better today? Yesterday you said you thought you were coming down with a cold."
"Nah, I'm fine," was all he gave him as he took out the cartons.
There were the beginnings of that wall between them, slowly being erected as every passing day wore at them. It was in the soft but faraway look in Yunho's eyes, the way he held himself back from embracing Jaejoong the way he'd used to, every time he paused while looking at him, as if he wished he was looking at someone else.
Jaejoong was sure that wasn't the case, but it still stung.
"The others might be coming by today. They said they miss hijacking your apartment," he said, finally taking a seat by the table. He neglected to mention he had called them - Jaejoong hadn’t seen any of them in a few months, after all.
"The others?"
"Yoochun, Changmin, Junsu - " He rambled off instinctively. He stopped short before Yunho could remember to interrupt him.
"Oh!" Yunho laughed. "Of course I know who they are. Why did I even ask? But sure, the television just got set up. If they want, they can bring some video games."
"Stop indulging them!" Jaejoong chuckled, moving his chair slightly to the side so Yunho could sit next to him and pour the ramen noodles into the soup. "You still have your thesis to write, they shouldn't bother you."
"Everyone needs to take a break once in awhile," he mumbled around a mouthful of noodles and Jaejoong snorted, leaning back against Yunho lightly as he surveyed the room.
The apartment was as clean as it had been yesterday (he should know, he'd come by to clean it up). There was no sign that Yunho was living with anyone else nor had anyone else other than Jaejoong and Yunho's family come by to visit. It seemed more like a hospital ward then a happy, furnished, loving home and it made Jaejoong ache.
"I could bring in some pictures," he murmured thoughtfully to himself, half-closed eyes sweeping the blank, white room. The white couches and white tables and brown hardwood floors and the white walls - they were the worst. He wondered why Yunho didn't feel boxed in. The home was supposed to be a sanctuary, Jaejoong had been raised to believe, and this was the very antithesis of one. "I don't know why they won't let me."
"Wouldn't it distract me from my thesis writing? Isn't that what you said?"
He turned his head slightly, eyes widened. "You remember?"
"It sounds like something you would say," Yunho said softly with laughing eyes, as if he was simply indulging Jaejoong and not breaking his heart.
"Ah," he resumed his previous position. "It does." No it doesn't. Jaejoong would've encouraged brilliant and warm colours to be splashed throughout the apartment, flowery scents in the bathroom, smells of home-cooked meals in the kitchen, the television blaring, the radio screaming Christmas carols at this time of year. He wondered, with a painful tightening in his chest, how much Yunho was forgetting about him already.
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," he stood up, taking slow strides towards the door. Spending these few minutes with Yunho was his favourite time of the day, although he didn't begrudge the others their visit. But it was that little selfish part of him that, in all the years past, he could never quite break away from.
If he'd been allowed his way, he would've whisked them both away on a year long vacation. Even if Jaejoong would’ve had to use up all his savings and probably end up bankrupt - sometimes, in the past two years, he would wake up by himself in bed, tears in his eyes and a sob caught in his throat. He'd always imagined that if they'd gone with their original plan of kidnapping Yunho and going on a long, long trip, away from the city congestion, the noise, the lights, if he could have that one memory of sitting somewhere, anywhere but here, with his fingers laced with Yunho's - this would be easier to accept. Maybe it would miraculously save them all from what was breaking before their eyes.
Yunho.
"Merry Christmas Eve!"
"What the hell?"
"Well it's not Christmas yet."
"Technically - "
A chorus of voices echoed in the small apartment as the three stepped in. Smiling fondly, he shut the door behind them. Junsu was lugging a large bag of video game consoles, Changmin carried a thick textbook with him, and Yoochun already had his eyes on the small piano sitting in the corner of the room. It had used to sit in Yoochun's own home, but he'd since moved it into the apartment to play on whenever he came by. He hadn't dropped by in a long time.
There was something familiar, a larger paper bag that Yoochun carried. Jaejoong looked at him hard, questioningly, and he shrugged with a small smile. "It was Changmin's idea," he mouthed at him and Jaejoong turned to the youngest, who promptly ignored him. He glared.
Yunho laughed then, and they all paused to savour the sound. "Is it that time of the year already? It feels like it flew by."
"Not for us," Junsu muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor, and Jaejoong elbowed him. He could see the hurt look from the corner of his eyes but it wasn't because of what he'd done. They all sported the same expression when Yunho wasn't looking.
"Hyung, we got you presents for the holiday," Changmin said suddenly, and Yunho blinked, taken back.
It took him a second to recall what he'd meant to say. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately," he said sheepishly, "I totally forgot. You didn't have to though. I thought we'd just go out drinking like we always do every year."
"It's okay," Yoochun set the bag on the table, safely away from the food. "You can owe us." He grinned solemnly, in just the way only Yoochun could've pulled off.
"Yeah, I definitely will," Yunho watched all of them with fondness. "I won't forget that, I promise."
Jaejoong clenched his hands tighter as he pasted a smile onto his face and walked forward to join the others as they all took seats around the table.
"How's the thesis coming along, hyung?" Changmin asked, pulling a wrapped box out of the bag Yoochun had been holding.
"Pretty good, I think." An odd look suddenly crossed his face. All four of them held their breath - then it passed and Yunho laughed again. "It seems like I'll never get it done at this rate."
"You will," Changmin said softly, setting the present gently next to his styrofoam bowl. "Someday, you will."
"And then we can all go celebrate," Junsu suggested.
"Junsu's just looking for an excuse to drink."
"I am not!"
Jaejoong grinned. "We'll have a party." Just like they had always planned to.
"With lots of booze so Junsu can do his drunk singing and stripping act again," Yoochun laughed harder and Junsu swatted at him, red colouring his cheeks.
"I'm not as bad a drunk as Changmin is!"
"I beg to differ," Changmin smirked, "I don't start hitting on potted plants when I'm drunk."
Even Jaejoong lost himself in laughter at the memory. The image of a red-faced Junsu rambling and making googly eyes at the little cactus Changmin had bought for Jaejoong's belated birthday gift during their trip to Japan had never quite died away from their list of things-to-tease-Junsu-about.
"You can drink? I thought you were - " Before he could even finish that sentence, Yunho stopped.
The laughter abruptly died away. The silence left behind seemed to echo forebodingly the longer it dragged on. The four of them eyed each other with something akin to panic, but before it could get anywhere, Changmin laughed, a little forced but still a laugh nonetheless.
"I was legal two years ago, hyung! Remember when I got drunk at your birthday party that Jaejoong hyung threw for you and he got angry at me because I threw up all over his bathroom floor?"
"Oh my god, don't remind me," the blonde man rolled his eyes, wrinkling his nose at the memory.
Yunho grinned, uncertainly.
"Well, no time like the present!" Junsu took it and handed it to him. They all promptly groaned, even Yunho, and Yoochun patted Jaejoong's shoulder lightly, because from where he sat he could see his shoulders stiffen. It felt, for a split second, like old times again.
Watching Yunho's excited smile, almost childish in its enthusiasm at being showered attention (although he never would've admitted it, even with prodding from Jaejoong), Jaejoong wasn't surprised when he felt the back of his eyes burn. This was supposed to be one of the happiest seasons of the year; joyful, beautiful, full of holiday cheer. Instead, he thought as he looked carefully at each person sitting around the small table, everyone looked to be on the verge of tears.
"Do you like it?" Yoochun looked at him expectantly, fearfully, and then Jaejoong felt dread, because he knew what was going to happen and this had all happened before -
"Actually - " Junsu.
"I really don't think - " Jaejoong.
"Guys, stop - " Changmin.
"Do you?" Yoochun.
"Yeah, I do." Yunho eyed them strangely as he pulled out several CDs and DVDs. "This will help me pass the time when I'm procrastinating. Thanks."
He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, gasping slightly. "You like them?"
"Of course, I've never listened or watched these before?"
Changmin abruptly stood up as Jaejoong practically ran into the kitchen and with what would constitute regret on his face, followed behind the older man, leaving the other two to keep Yunho occupied. Unsurprisingly, he found Jaejoong leaning against the counter top, head tilted back, eyes closed, breathing heavily.
"Hyung."
"Why do you have to do this every year?" He seethed, shifting to glare viciously at him.
Changmin hesitated in the face of such obvious rage, but forged bravely onwards, until he stood beside Jaejoong. Not quite touching, but enough so that both of them felt the other's presence acutely. "So you'd realize the truth."
"I don't need you to tell me."
"I've been telling you and you're not listening. I'm showing you now."
"What do you want me to say! Fuck you - " His voice broke and Changmin caught him, arms hanging loosely over his shoulder as he leaned his forehead against his shoulder. Goddamn him and him being taller than all of them -
"He's not..." On second thought, that probably wasn't the best wording. "Yunho hyung isn't the same anymore. You know that."
"Fucking indulge me, okay?"
"We all are," he said even softer and Jaejoong stiffened. "He is too, even though he may not know it someday."
"Why him - !"
"I don't know!" Changmin whispered fiercely as Jaejoong shook, anger rolling off him in waves. "But the reason we all keep coming back is for you, not Yunho. Please, just stop it - "
"Shut up." He shoved him back and Changmin stumbled. "It's Christmas Eve. Let's - let's just enjoy today, okay?" He avoided Changmin's sad eyes - those large expressive eyes - and he left the kitchen.
The rest of the day continued. Laughter and shouts echoed throughout the apartment as Junsu set up the console he had brought. After they tired themselves out with the video games, Yoochun played a series of Christmas songs and then several of his own compositions while Changmin, curled up in the corner of the couch next to Yunho, studied. Jaejoong busied himself in the kitchen, forcing Junsu to help him.
In the evening, they settled down to dinner. Past anecdotes were avoided - they made plans for the future instead. Changmin's convocation in a few months, Junsu's next soccer game, Yoochun's upcoming concert, Jaejoong's ongoing exhibit.
If Jaejoong truly wanted to fool himself, nobody could've stopped him. Their conversations flowed once they grew comfortable with each other again - even Yunho, whose lost looks occurred less and less as the evening wore on.
Finally, the three made themselves scarce once it grew too late and the excuses to stay wore thin.
Just as Yoochun was about to leave, he pulled Jaejoong aside.
"You should get home before the snow really comes down hard," he said with false cheer, knowing perfectly well Yoochun could see right through him - they all could, really - and knowing that Yoochun knew that he knew. He didn't care.
"Hyung, Changmin didn't mean to hurt you from that present thing." He stayed silent. "He just...It's Christmas, and we all want you to celebrate it while looking forward but you just...you just won't. Even Yunho hyung is - "
"Don't say it."
"Even he's looking forward. Even if it's to a future where we don't exist."
"Enough, Yoochun."
"Hyung - "
"I said - "
"I know, I know." Yoochun pulled him into a brief hug and then stepped aside to put on his jacket. "Call me in the morning, okay? We'll go shopping. I'll buy you a new pair of boots and they can be blue or green or neon pink, whatever you want."
Jaejoong glared at him, blinking hard. "I have great taste."
"Of course you do, hyung."
After he left, the only thing Junsu did was hold his hand briefly and stare at him with sad puppy eyes. They had never needed many words.
Finally, it was just the two of them again. Jaejoong cleaned up while Yunho puttered around outside the kitchen. Jaejoong could almost forget himself in the domesticity of what he was doing, wiping the countertop and putting away anything that hadn't been finished. It almost felt normal again.
"Where should I leave the leftovers?"
"Who are you?"
The plate slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the floor with a crash, a sound jarring the sudden tension between a man who wondered who this other blonde man was, standing in his kitchen, and the blonde man himself, staring wildly back at him.
Yunho was by his side in an instant, a hand on his elbow.
Unable to stop himself, Jaejoong tore himself away and bent down to pick up the pieces of the plate. Once he'd swept everything up and thrown it away, he gestured for Yunho to sit as he hastily rubbed the back of his hand against his face, sniffing loudly. Before he sat down himself, he glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes to midnight.
Now, Yunho watched him with an uncertain look that ate at his resolve. He had never received such a look from him before, even when they had first met in school. But he'd received far too many of them in the past year.
"I'm Kim Jaejoong and I'm...I'm your friend. Boy. Boyfriend," he stuttered and tried to ignore the surprised look on his face.
"But I don't...I don't know you. Or this place - "
"This is your home. You have three other very very close friends and they're Kim Junsu, Park Yoochun, and Shim Changmin. You quit graduate school two years ago when your family pushed you to after you got sick. You - you hated the idea of giving up but when you couldn't remember where you were or where you lived - "
"Is this...hurting you? To tell me?" The softness in his voice belied a familiar, comforting presence that Jaejoong always found in Yunho, usually at his most distressed. The only difference was that this time, he could not accept it from him.
"I should've told you a long time ago."
He looked out the window as Yunho pondered this. It was beginning to snow outside. Jaejoong thought about needing to buy a heater for his own tiny apartment because he always got a nasty draft from the window that never quite shut properly. He suddenly remembered he hadn't bought any Christmas presents this year and nobody had mentioned anything. He vaguely recalled someone hosting a party at his family's home, one of his many sisters, though he couldn't remember exactly which one had mentioned it. There were lots of things he would've normally done at this time of year and he hadn't done so, because doing them would mean moving on.
"Am I going to forget this too?" The question hung in the air and Jaejoong stared blankly at him, Yunho stared back, and he was speechless. Then Yunho shrugged and got up. He began a slow walk around the room, then out the door to go through the living room where the television was and his bedroom where there was an attached bathroom, and by the time he was standing next to Jaejoong again there was alarm on his face. "There isn't a single picture or a calendar in this place."
"You never noticed because we came by every day. We told you where you were and when it was and what you should've been doing," he explained dully, eyes on the table.
"Like writing my thesis," Yunho said flatly. Even if his memory had large gaping holes in it, the hurt in his voice was genuine.
"Or being given presents you already received two years ago."
"Jaejoong - why - " The confusion finally made him look up, and two pairs of eyes met. Both quietly watched the other's face, trying to memorize the hair Jaejoong had ran his fingers through and that nose he'd tweaked when he teased Yunho and the mouth that Jaejoong had kissed countless times and Yunho watched the face he would never really remember, never in his dreams even see again once his memory was completely and truly gone.
Jaejoong got up from the table and slipped his hand in Yunho's. "I wanted to continue dreaming," he said quietly and relished the warmth of holding another living, breathing person, someone he'd spent half his life loving. Was Changmin right? That once those memories were gone, it meant that he was no longer the same person again?
Why then did Yunho's smile carry so much familiarity despite the emptiness in his eyes? Why then did Yunho's hand still feel the same in his, large and warm, soft?
"Jaejoong?"
He kissed him softly. He felt Yunho's sharp intake of breath but other than that, incited no other response. Frowning hard, he pulled away.
Why then did those lips taste the same?
Finally, he stepped back and grabbed his coat, swinging his bag over his shoulder.
"I should head back." He smiled humourlessly. "Work piles up when you're procrastinating."
"You're procrastinating right now?" Being sick had always made Yunho act a little childish; asking questions and making those silly faces when made to do something he didn't want to.
It took a lot of effort for Jaejoong to remind himself that this was a very very sick man. A man who was no longer Jung Yunho. It seemed he had been the only one unable to accept but - given the circumstances, he thought wryly - he felt that nobody could blame him. And nobody had, even when they had watched him slide further and further into this illusion.
"This - " he gestured all around him. " - is not productive." He turned before he could see the hurt look on Yunho's face, because nobody liked being told they were unimportant in the large scheme of things. But it sounded right to Jaejoong - in this white, sterile, environment, he felt like the least significant thing in the room. Even the table was more important - Yunho had to eat on it. Even the television - entertainment.
Jaejoong no longer had a place.
He stepped towards the door and laid a hand onto the knob, reluctance pulling at every fibre of his being.
"Jaejoong?"
He paused.
"I know I can't - say anything to...Look, I tried. This afternoon, I tried. I'm sorry I failed."
No, Jaejoong wanted to shout at him, I wasn't brave enough. Yunho had always been the braver one.
"I just wanted to say, Merry Christmas. And...thank you for believing. Even just for that short while."
That was when the tears fell. "Merry Christmas," he said, his voice cracking, and he left. It sounded a lot like good-bye (there was no reason to believe it wasn't). He should've said it a long time ago.
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yunho
Genre: AU, angst/romance
Warnings: No happy ending?
Words: 3544
Summary: If he looks and feels the same, is he still the same? Maybe Jaejoong knew the answer all along.
A/N: Secret Santa fic for kioku_kagami at hug______.
"Yunho?"
He swallowed, coughed a little, and tried again. "Yunho."
The other man looked up at him. "Jaejoong...I didn't even hear you come in." The kind smile that he was known for spread across his face and the blonde man found himself breathing easier, laughter bubbling up from some part of him that he could not identify.
It might have been hysteria or profound relief.
"I just thought I'd bring you lunch. And make you dinner tonight." Instinctively he leaned down and their lips met, sweetly. When he drew away, he set the bag down, trying to hide the trembling that he was unable to stop.
"Thank you," Yunho said, and he untied the bag with a slowness that Jaejoong watched closely.
"Are you feeling better today? Yesterday you said you thought you were coming down with a cold."
"Nah, I'm fine," was all he gave him as he took out the cartons.
There were the beginnings of that wall between them, slowly being erected as every passing day wore at them. It was in the soft but faraway look in Yunho's eyes, the way he held himself back from embracing Jaejoong the way he'd used to, every time he paused while looking at him, as if he wished he was looking at someone else.
Jaejoong was sure that wasn't the case, but it still stung.
"The others might be coming by today. They said they miss hijacking your apartment," he said, finally taking a seat by the table. He neglected to mention he had called them - Jaejoong hadn’t seen any of them in a few months, after all.
"The others?"
"Yoochun, Changmin, Junsu - " He rambled off instinctively. He stopped short before Yunho could remember to interrupt him.
"Oh!" Yunho laughed. "Of course I know who they are. Why did I even ask? But sure, the television just got set up. If they want, they can bring some video games."
"Stop indulging them!" Jaejoong chuckled, moving his chair slightly to the side so Yunho could sit next to him and pour the ramen noodles into the soup. "You still have your thesis to write, they shouldn't bother you."
"Everyone needs to take a break once in awhile," he mumbled around a mouthful of noodles and Jaejoong snorted, leaning back against Yunho lightly as he surveyed the room.
The apartment was as clean as it had been yesterday (he should know, he'd come by to clean it up). There was no sign that Yunho was living with anyone else nor had anyone else other than Jaejoong and Yunho's family come by to visit. It seemed more like a hospital ward then a happy, furnished, loving home and it made Jaejoong ache.
"I could bring in some pictures," he murmured thoughtfully to himself, half-closed eyes sweeping the blank, white room. The white couches and white tables and brown hardwood floors and the white walls - they were the worst. He wondered why Yunho didn't feel boxed in. The home was supposed to be a sanctuary, Jaejoong had been raised to believe, and this was the very antithesis of one. "I don't know why they won't let me."
"Wouldn't it distract me from my thesis writing? Isn't that what you said?"
He turned his head slightly, eyes widened. "You remember?"
"It sounds like something you would say," Yunho said softly with laughing eyes, as if he was simply indulging Jaejoong and not breaking his heart.
"Ah," he resumed his previous position. "It does." No it doesn't. Jaejoong would've encouraged brilliant and warm colours to be splashed throughout the apartment, flowery scents in the bathroom, smells of home-cooked meals in the kitchen, the television blaring, the radio screaming Christmas carols at this time of year. He wondered, with a painful tightening in his chest, how much Yunho was forgetting about him already.
The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," he stood up, taking slow strides towards the door. Spending these few minutes with Yunho was his favourite time of the day, although he didn't begrudge the others their visit. But it was that little selfish part of him that, in all the years past, he could never quite break away from.
If he'd been allowed his way, he would've whisked them both away on a year long vacation. Even if Jaejoong would’ve had to use up all his savings and probably end up bankrupt - sometimes, in the past two years, he would wake up by himself in bed, tears in his eyes and a sob caught in his throat. He'd always imagined that if they'd gone with their original plan of kidnapping Yunho and going on a long, long trip, away from the city congestion, the noise, the lights, if he could have that one memory of sitting somewhere, anywhere but here, with his fingers laced with Yunho's - this would be easier to accept. Maybe it would miraculously save them all from what was breaking before their eyes.
Yunho.
"Merry Christmas Eve!"
"What the hell?"
"Well it's not Christmas yet."
"Technically - "
A chorus of voices echoed in the small apartment as the three stepped in. Smiling fondly, he shut the door behind them. Junsu was lugging a large bag of video game consoles, Changmin carried a thick textbook with him, and Yoochun already had his eyes on the small piano sitting in the corner of the room. It had used to sit in Yoochun's own home, but he'd since moved it into the apartment to play on whenever he came by. He hadn't dropped by in a long time.
There was something familiar, a larger paper bag that Yoochun carried. Jaejoong looked at him hard, questioningly, and he shrugged with a small smile. "It was Changmin's idea," he mouthed at him and Jaejoong turned to the youngest, who promptly ignored him. He glared.
Yunho laughed then, and they all paused to savour the sound. "Is it that time of the year already? It feels like it flew by."
"Not for us," Junsu muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor, and Jaejoong elbowed him. He could see the hurt look from the corner of his eyes but it wasn't because of what he'd done. They all sported the same expression when Yunho wasn't looking.
"Hyung, we got you presents for the holiday," Changmin said suddenly, and Yunho blinked, taken back.
It took him a second to recall what he'd meant to say. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately," he said sheepishly, "I totally forgot. You didn't have to though. I thought we'd just go out drinking like we always do every year."
"It's okay," Yoochun set the bag on the table, safely away from the food. "You can owe us." He grinned solemnly, in just the way only Yoochun could've pulled off.
"Yeah, I definitely will," Yunho watched all of them with fondness. "I won't forget that, I promise."
Jaejoong clenched his hands tighter as he pasted a smile onto his face and walked forward to join the others as they all took seats around the table.
"How's the thesis coming along, hyung?" Changmin asked, pulling a wrapped box out of the bag Yoochun had been holding.
"Pretty good, I think." An odd look suddenly crossed his face. All four of them held their breath - then it passed and Yunho laughed again. "It seems like I'll never get it done at this rate."
"You will," Changmin said softly, setting the present gently next to his styrofoam bowl. "Someday, you will."
"And then we can all go celebrate," Junsu suggested.
"Junsu's just looking for an excuse to drink."
"I am not!"
Jaejoong grinned. "We'll have a party." Just like they had always planned to.
"With lots of booze so Junsu can do his drunk singing and stripping act again," Yoochun laughed harder and Junsu swatted at him, red colouring his cheeks.
"I'm not as bad a drunk as Changmin is!"
"I beg to differ," Changmin smirked, "I don't start hitting on potted plants when I'm drunk."
Even Jaejoong lost himself in laughter at the memory. The image of a red-faced Junsu rambling and making googly eyes at the little cactus Changmin had bought for Jaejoong's belated birthday gift during their trip to Japan had never quite died away from their list of things-to-tease-Junsu-about.
"You can drink? I thought you were - " Before he could even finish that sentence, Yunho stopped.
The laughter abruptly died away. The silence left behind seemed to echo forebodingly the longer it dragged on. The four of them eyed each other with something akin to panic, but before it could get anywhere, Changmin laughed, a little forced but still a laugh nonetheless.
"I was legal two years ago, hyung! Remember when I got drunk at your birthday party that Jaejoong hyung threw for you and he got angry at me because I threw up all over his bathroom floor?"
"Oh my god, don't remind me," the blonde man rolled his eyes, wrinkling his nose at the memory.
Yunho grinned, uncertainly.
"Well, no time like the present!" Junsu took it and handed it to him. They all promptly groaned, even Yunho, and Yoochun patted Jaejoong's shoulder lightly, because from where he sat he could see his shoulders stiffen. It felt, for a split second, like old times again.
Watching Yunho's excited smile, almost childish in its enthusiasm at being showered attention (although he never would've admitted it, even with prodding from Jaejoong), Jaejoong wasn't surprised when he felt the back of his eyes burn. This was supposed to be one of the happiest seasons of the year; joyful, beautiful, full of holiday cheer. Instead, he thought as he looked carefully at each person sitting around the small table, everyone looked to be on the verge of tears.
"Do you like it?" Yoochun looked at him expectantly, fearfully, and then Jaejoong felt dread, because he knew what was going to happen and this had all happened before -
"Actually - " Junsu.
"I really don't think - " Jaejoong.
"Guys, stop - " Changmin.
"Do you?" Yoochun.
"Yeah, I do." Yunho eyed them strangely as he pulled out several CDs and DVDs. "This will help me pass the time when I'm procrastinating. Thanks."
He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, gasping slightly. "You like them?"
"Of course, I've never listened or watched these before?"
Changmin abruptly stood up as Jaejoong practically ran into the kitchen and with what would constitute regret on his face, followed behind the older man, leaving the other two to keep Yunho occupied. Unsurprisingly, he found Jaejoong leaning against the counter top, head tilted back, eyes closed, breathing heavily.
"Hyung."
"Why do you have to do this every year?" He seethed, shifting to glare viciously at him.
Changmin hesitated in the face of such obvious rage, but forged bravely onwards, until he stood beside Jaejoong. Not quite touching, but enough so that both of them felt the other's presence acutely. "So you'd realize the truth."
"I don't need you to tell me."
"I've been telling you and you're not listening. I'm showing you now."
"What do you want me to say! Fuck you - " His voice broke and Changmin caught him, arms hanging loosely over his shoulder as he leaned his forehead against his shoulder. Goddamn him and him being taller than all of them -
"He's not..." On second thought, that probably wasn't the best wording. "Yunho hyung isn't the same anymore. You know that."
"Fucking indulge me, okay?"
"We all are," he said even softer and Jaejoong stiffened. "He is too, even though he may not know it someday."
"Why him - !"
"I don't know!" Changmin whispered fiercely as Jaejoong shook, anger rolling off him in waves. "But the reason we all keep coming back is for you, not Yunho. Please, just stop it - "
"Shut up." He shoved him back and Changmin stumbled. "It's Christmas Eve. Let's - let's just enjoy today, okay?" He avoided Changmin's sad eyes - those large expressive eyes - and he left the kitchen.
The rest of the day continued. Laughter and shouts echoed throughout the apartment as Junsu set up the console he had brought. After they tired themselves out with the video games, Yoochun played a series of Christmas songs and then several of his own compositions while Changmin, curled up in the corner of the couch next to Yunho, studied. Jaejoong busied himself in the kitchen, forcing Junsu to help him.
In the evening, they settled down to dinner. Past anecdotes were avoided - they made plans for the future instead. Changmin's convocation in a few months, Junsu's next soccer game, Yoochun's upcoming concert, Jaejoong's ongoing exhibit.
If Jaejoong truly wanted to fool himself, nobody could've stopped him. Their conversations flowed once they grew comfortable with each other again - even Yunho, whose lost looks occurred less and less as the evening wore on.
Finally, the three made themselves scarce once it grew too late and the excuses to stay wore thin.
Just as Yoochun was about to leave, he pulled Jaejoong aside.
"You should get home before the snow really comes down hard," he said with false cheer, knowing perfectly well Yoochun could see right through him - they all could, really - and knowing that Yoochun knew that he knew. He didn't care.
"Hyung, Changmin didn't mean to hurt you from that present thing." He stayed silent. "He just...It's Christmas, and we all want you to celebrate it while looking forward but you just...you just won't. Even Yunho hyung is - "
"Don't say it."
"Even he's looking forward. Even if it's to a future where we don't exist."
"Enough, Yoochun."
"Hyung - "
"I said - "
"I know, I know." Yoochun pulled him into a brief hug and then stepped aside to put on his jacket. "Call me in the morning, okay? We'll go shopping. I'll buy you a new pair of boots and they can be blue or green or neon pink, whatever you want."
Jaejoong glared at him, blinking hard. "I have great taste."
"Of course you do, hyung."
After he left, the only thing Junsu did was hold his hand briefly and stare at him with sad puppy eyes. They had never needed many words.
Finally, it was just the two of them again. Jaejoong cleaned up while Yunho puttered around outside the kitchen. Jaejoong could almost forget himself in the domesticity of what he was doing, wiping the countertop and putting away anything that hadn't been finished. It almost felt normal again.
"Where should I leave the leftovers?"
"Who are you?"
The plate slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the floor with a crash, a sound jarring the sudden tension between a man who wondered who this other blonde man was, standing in his kitchen, and the blonde man himself, staring wildly back at him.
Yunho was by his side in an instant, a hand on his elbow.
Unable to stop himself, Jaejoong tore himself away and bent down to pick up the pieces of the plate. Once he'd swept everything up and thrown it away, he gestured for Yunho to sit as he hastily rubbed the back of his hand against his face, sniffing loudly. Before he sat down himself, he glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes to midnight.
Now, Yunho watched him with an uncertain look that ate at his resolve. He had never received such a look from him before, even when they had first met in school. But he'd received far too many of them in the past year.
"I'm Kim Jaejoong and I'm...I'm your friend. Boy. Boyfriend," he stuttered and tried to ignore the surprised look on his face.
"But I don't...I don't know you. Or this place - "
"This is your home. You have three other very very close friends and they're Kim Junsu, Park Yoochun, and Shim Changmin. You quit graduate school two years ago when your family pushed you to after you got sick. You - you hated the idea of giving up but when you couldn't remember where you were or where you lived - "
"Is this...hurting you? To tell me?" The softness in his voice belied a familiar, comforting presence that Jaejoong always found in Yunho, usually at his most distressed. The only difference was that this time, he could not accept it from him.
"I should've told you a long time ago."
He looked out the window as Yunho pondered this. It was beginning to snow outside. Jaejoong thought about needing to buy a heater for his own tiny apartment because he always got a nasty draft from the window that never quite shut properly. He suddenly remembered he hadn't bought any Christmas presents this year and nobody had mentioned anything. He vaguely recalled someone hosting a party at his family's home, one of his many sisters, though he couldn't remember exactly which one had mentioned it. There were lots of things he would've normally done at this time of year and he hadn't done so, because doing them would mean moving on.
"Am I going to forget this too?" The question hung in the air and Jaejoong stared blankly at him, Yunho stared back, and he was speechless. Then Yunho shrugged and got up. He began a slow walk around the room, then out the door to go through the living room where the television was and his bedroom where there was an attached bathroom, and by the time he was standing next to Jaejoong again there was alarm on his face. "There isn't a single picture or a calendar in this place."
"You never noticed because we came by every day. We told you where you were and when it was and what you should've been doing," he explained dully, eyes on the table.
"Like writing my thesis," Yunho said flatly. Even if his memory had large gaping holes in it, the hurt in his voice was genuine.
"Or being given presents you already received two years ago."
"Jaejoong - why - " The confusion finally made him look up, and two pairs of eyes met. Both quietly watched the other's face, trying to memorize the hair Jaejoong had ran his fingers through and that nose he'd tweaked when he teased Yunho and the mouth that Jaejoong had kissed countless times and Yunho watched the face he would never really remember, never in his dreams even see again once his memory was completely and truly gone.
Jaejoong got up from the table and slipped his hand in Yunho's. "I wanted to continue dreaming," he said quietly and relished the warmth of holding another living, breathing person, someone he'd spent half his life loving. Was Changmin right? That once those memories were gone, it meant that he was no longer the same person again?
Why then did Yunho's smile carry so much familiarity despite the emptiness in his eyes? Why then did Yunho's hand still feel the same in his, large and warm, soft?
"Jaejoong?"
He kissed him softly. He felt Yunho's sharp intake of breath but other than that, incited no other response. Frowning hard, he pulled away.
Why then did those lips taste the same?
Finally, he stepped back and grabbed his coat, swinging his bag over his shoulder.
"I should head back." He smiled humourlessly. "Work piles up when you're procrastinating."
"You're procrastinating right now?" Being sick had always made Yunho act a little childish; asking questions and making those silly faces when made to do something he didn't want to.
It took a lot of effort for Jaejoong to remind himself that this was a very very sick man. A man who was no longer Jung Yunho. It seemed he had been the only one unable to accept but - given the circumstances, he thought wryly - he felt that nobody could blame him. And nobody had, even when they had watched him slide further and further into this illusion.
"This - " he gestured all around him. " - is not productive." He turned before he could see the hurt look on Yunho's face, because nobody liked being told they were unimportant in the large scheme of things. But it sounded right to Jaejoong - in this white, sterile, environment, he felt like the least significant thing in the room. Even the table was more important - Yunho had to eat on it. Even the television - entertainment.
Jaejoong no longer had a place.
He stepped towards the door and laid a hand onto the knob, reluctance pulling at every fibre of his being.
"Jaejoong?"
He paused.
"I know I can't - say anything to...Look, I tried. This afternoon, I tried. I'm sorry I failed."
No, Jaejoong wanted to shout at him, I wasn't brave enough. Yunho had always been the braver one.
"I just wanted to say, Merry Christmas. And...thank you for believing. Even just for that short while."
That was when the tears fell. "Merry Christmas," he said, his voice cracking, and he left. It sounded a lot like good-bye (there was no reason to believe it wasn't). He should've said it a long time ago.