[fic] &sometimes we love the ones we lose;
Title: &sometimes we love the ones we lose;
Rating: R
Pairings: Yoochun/Changmin, Yoochun/Junsu, Yunho/Jaejoong, onesided Junsu/Yunho
Warnings: Death.
A/N: Dedicated to readyforever because without her and her friendship, I wouldn't be writing and you wouldn't be reading. She's amazing and deserves more than I can ever give. I hope you... I don't want to say enjoy. Thank you for reading.
Running the race
Like a mouse in a cage
Getting nowhere but I’m trying
Forging ahead
But I’m stuck in the bed
That I made so I’m lying
Yoochun can't remember the first moment that he met Changmin, but he remembers the last moment they shared. Fingers threaded, bodies pressed close, and a promise made that he'd be home soon. Pictures give him a reminder of their earlier moments and he thinks he can piece together how when they met. If the photographs don't help, the notes on the back do. Changmin's handwriting never got better and it takes Yoochun a few times to read what he's written. A mix of messages and memories.
Don't forget to throw away bad leftovers! - on the back of a polaroid Changmin took of Yoochun as he was draped over a toilet.
Don't miss me too much. I'll be back before you know it! ^^ - on the back of a photograph Yunho took of the two of them with Changmin laughing as Yoochun cried. He can't remember why he was crying. It doesn't matter anyway.
But if you keep real close
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me still
The war brought an end to an era. The death toll only continued to climb and no one ever suspected that it would be him. That he would be one of the many returning home in a wooden box. He's the last to find out, passed out from a long night of karaoke with friends. Jaejoong already has a pot of coffee brewing and Yunho looks as white as a ghost.
Yoochun can't even find the strength to cry as Jaejoong holds him so tight that Yoochun wonders if Jaejoong thinks that he'll disappear (or die) too. He's fine, of course. He's fine. He can't do anything but return the embrace and pray. For what? To whom? He doesn't know. God doesn't exist anymore.
A recording of piano music plays at his funeral with no sign of Yoochun. Yunho finds him sitting outside Changmin's apartment complex, drunk and alone.
"I should've guessed you'd be here, Yoochunah. C'mon, let's go." Neither Yunho or Jaejoong let Yoochun wallow for too long. Soon, the days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years and Yoochun starts to forget. The way he sounded, the way he smelled, the way his eyes would become mismatched when he'd laugh.
Eager to please,
Trying to be what they need
But I'm so very tired
I've stopped trying to find
Any peace in my mind
Because it tangles the wires
Yoochun gets angry. Irrationally so and relies on yelling and harsh words that only push people away (when he really just wants someone to realize what he's doing, no one figures it out). He hates himself when he's like this: self-absorbed and unable to care about anything (anyone) but himself. He hates when he can't care enough to ask how people are doing because he isn't okay. He isn't fine. He's unhappy.
Yoochun sometimes dreams of him and only gets angry when he wakes up to find that it isn't real. Changmin isn't back. He wasn't just playing some sort of cruel trick that's lasted for years. He wakes up night after night, unable to find something to cure his insomnia. The medication doesn't work like it should (and Yoochun is afraid of overdosing).
Days off, birthdays, holidays, all are spent in the same place. Rain or shine, Yoochun doesn't care what illness he gets as he needs to spend every possible moment with the man he'll never have.
It's raining on what's meant to be Changmin's twenty-sixth birthday and Yoochun can't distinguish the rain from his tears. The vast number of flowers and posters and items of remembrance have dwindled over the years. People who didn't know him, people who will never get the chance to know him. It makes Yoochun angry and he wants to kick and scream. It isn't fair, it isn't fair, and it isn't fucking fair.
He writes four songs a year for him. One for each season. One by one they go to number one. It makes him sick. Yoochun doesn't believe in God or any higher being anymore, but he hopes that there is some divine intervention that lets Changmin hear them.
His speech slurs because of the bottles of wine he leaves on the floor of the mausoleum along with the shards of broken glass. "Changminah. Changminah. I wrote this for you. Wrote it for you. You were supposed to sing it. Not them. Not them. You."
"He was a great guy." Yoochun is startled by the voice and wipes away the tears as best as he can before turning to face it. "He was a great guy. I wish I had gotten to know him better."
The man's name, Yoochun finds out (as they share a glass of wine and some tears) is Junsu and was in the same company as Changmin. His laughter is something that sounds like it should be in a cartoon and his ass is too big, Yoochun thinks. But he's the first new friend he's made in years and he won't turn him away.
Yoochun finds out over more glasses of wine (this time at Junsu's apartment) that Changmin talked about Yoochun all the time. "Yoochunah this and Yoochunah that," Junsu starts, leaning closer and closer and Yoochun thinks that he's getting too close for comfort. "He was a sap for you. I was jealous. I always wanted to meet you."
But if you keep real close
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you.
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me
Can you hear me still
"Guys, this is Junsu. I've told you about him," Yoochun says as he finally managed to drag Junsu out for drinks. Junsu's eyes light up brighter than Yoochun's ever seen them as he puts his hand out to shake Yunho's hand. "I've heard so much about you," he finally acknowledges Jaejoong, "Both of you." Letting him into the circle is easy enough. After all, he knew Changmin. He's been a great friend to Yoochun. But the tension that it brings the other two behind closed doors is something Yoochun only discovers when Jaejoong absently tells him his insecurities.
"You don't think he'd leave me, do you?" Jaejoong hadn't smoked in years, but no one would be able to tell as he polished off his third cigarette of the night.
Leaning over, Yoochun helped him light his fourth, "He'd have to be an idiot, hyung. Don't talk like that."
Over time, Yoochun realizes that neither of them are what each other wants. Not yet, at least. Yoochun reminds himself that he'll never be it for him, but if he could, he'd be it for Junsu.
Junsu tells him that he loves him and assumes by Yoochun silencing him with a kiss, a hand through the hair, and the other starting to push up his shirt, that he feels the same. Clothes are shed, time and time again, and Yoochun feels a little less empty each time. Maybe he could fall in love with him. Maybe.
Yoochun decides to put something more into the relationship and asks Junsu to move in with him. More i love yous are said and he starts moving in the next day.
One day, Yoochun comes home early to a quiet house. "I just really think that you should reconsider." Junsu. Was he on the phone? Yoochun stops dead in his tracks. His chest starts to tighten and he can't figure out why.
"I'm really sorry." Yunho's voice. Jaejoong isn't here. Jaejoong is at home making dinner.
"Do you think the two of you will last? Does he even love you?"
"I don't think you- I'm happy with Jaejoongah." Silence. Yoochun could hear his heart beating out of his chest. "I thought you were happy with Yoochun." Yoochun could tell by the shift in Yunho's tone of voice that he was getting angry. He walks one more step, glancing inside the living room. Yunho looks as though he's ready to kill, fists and jaw clenched. Yunho looks up and meets Yoochun's shocked gaze.
"...hey, Yoochunah. Jaejoong made kimchi."
Yoochun nods before disappearing into the kitchen. "Thanks, hyung."
The sound tires on my lips
To fade away into forgetting
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me
Can you hear me
They argue. More than Yoochun and Changmin ever did. Over petty things, useless things, and Yoochun knows it's because they're just not saying what they need to say.
"I don't want to deal with this right now, Yoochun." (You don't love me.)
"Why are you getting pissed off?" (I'm not who you want.)
"Why are you getting defensive?" (Why are we doing this?)
"I'm not. Changmin would never-" (I wish he hadn't died.)
"Well, Yunho would never ever-" (I wish he wasn't with him.)
"How the hell would you know how he would react? He's just your dirty fantasy." (How could you bring him into this?)
Silence. (Says the man who is in love with the dead.)
"Nothing to say? Really? Do you think I'm blind? That I didn't notice the glances when Jaejoong wasn't around? Do you think I'm an idiot?" (Fuck you.)
"Says the man who is in love with the dead." (Fuck you too.)
"Get out."
"Yoochun, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." (Shit shit shit shit.)
Yoochun doesn't listen to the apologies and starts to pack his own bag. If Junsu won't leave, he will. It was as simple as that. After a rushed phone call, Jaejoong and Yunho offer to take him to the airport. Yoochun has family there, so he won't be alone. He promises to call and write as long as they promise to visit. It isn't anything permanent; nothing with Yoochun ever is. Not anymore.
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me
Can you hear me still
The flight back to the United States was a long one. He was on board with a military crew, it seemed. Of course. Of course. And he was sat next to one of the good old army boys heading home on leave. Of course. Of course. They're making jokes full of sexual innuendos and Yoochun thinks that Changmin would've liked this group of guys. The laughter is familiar to him, but he can't place it. (Because sometimes it's easier to forget.)
"What are you reading," the army boy asks him.
"Ansel Adams: An Autobiography." Changmin always wanted to be a photographer.
"Ain't read it before. Must be good, huh?" The army boy lets out a laugh and Yoochun catches a glimpse of his eyes looking mismatched. He looks about twenty-two and Yoochun can't stop his brain from making more similarities. Like how his bangs brush over his eyes. Like how his features soften as he laughs. "Always loved photography."
"Something like that. I'm Yoochun, by the way," he says and shuts his book, shoving it away in his messenger bag.
"Max."
Rating: R
Pairings: Yoochun/Changmin, Yoochun/Junsu, Yunho/Jaejoong, onesided Junsu/Yunho
Warnings: Death.
A/N: Dedicated to readyforever because without her and her friendship, I wouldn't be writing and you wouldn't be reading. She's amazing and deserves more than I can ever give. I hope you... I don't want to say enjoy. Thank you for reading.
Running the race
Like a mouse in a cage
Getting nowhere but I’m trying
Forging ahead
But I’m stuck in the bed
That I made so I’m lying
Yoochun can't remember the first moment that he met Changmin, but he remembers the last moment they shared. Fingers threaded, bodies pressed close, and a promise made that he'd be home soon. Pictures give him a reminder of their earlier moments and he thinks he can piece together how when they met. If the photographs don't help, the notes on the back do. Changmin's handwriting never got better and it takes Yoochun a few times to read what he's written. A mix of messages and memories.
Don't forget to throw away bad leftovers! - on the back of a polaroid Changmin took of Yoochun as he was draped over a toilet.
Don't miss me too much. I'll be back before you know it! ^^ - on the back of a photograph Yunho took of the two of them with Changmin laughing as Yoochun cried. He can't remember why he was crying. It doesn't matter anyway.
But if you keep real close
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me still
The war brought an end to an era. The death toll only continued to climb and no one ever suspected that it would be him. That he would be one of the many returning home in a wooden box. He's the last to find out, passed out from a long night of karaoke with friends. Jaejoong already has a pot of coffee brewing and Yunho looks as white as a ghost.
Yoochun can't even find the strength to cry as Jaejoong holds him so tight that Yoochun wonders if Jaejoong thinks that he'll disappear (or die) too. He's fine, of course. He's fine. He can't do anything but return the embrace and pray. For what? To whom? He doesn't know. God doesn't exist anymore.
A recording of piano music plays at his funeral with no sign of Yoochun. Yunho finds him sitting outside Changmin's apartment complex, drunk and alone.
"I should've guessed you'd be here, Yoochunah. C'mon, let's go." Neither Yunho or Jaejoong let Yoochun wallow for too long. Soon, the days turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years and Yoochun starts to forget. The way he sounded, the way he smelled, the way his eyes would become mismatched when he'd laugh.
Eager to please,
Trying to be what they need
But I'm so very tired
I've stopped trying to find
Any peace in my mind
Because it tangles the wires
Yoochun gets angry. Irrationally so and relies on yelling and harsh words that only push people away (when he really just wants someone to realize what he's doing, no one figures it out). He hates himself when he's like this: self-absorbed and unable to care about anything (anyone) but himself. He hates when he can't care enough to ask how people are doing because he isn't okay. He isn't fine. He's unhappy.
Yoochun sometimes dreams of him and only gets angry when he wakes up to find that it isn't real. Changmin isn't back. He wasn't just playing some sort of cruel trick that's lasted for years. He wakes up night after night, unable to find something to cure his insomnia. The medication doesn't work like it should (and Yoochun is afraid of overdosing).
Days off, birthdays, holidays, all are spent in the same place. Rain or shine, Yoochun doesn't care what illness he gets as he needs to spend every possible moment with the man he'll never have.
It's raining on what's meant to be Changmin's twenty-sixth birthday and Yoochun can't distinguish the rain from his tears. The vast number of flowers and posters and items of remembrance have dwindled over the years. People who didn't know him, people who will never get the chance to know him. It makes Yoochun angry and he wants to kick and scream. It isn't fair, it isn't fair, and it isn't fucking fair.
He writes four songs a year for him. One for each season. One by one they go to number one. It makes him sick. Yoochun doesn't believe in God or any higher being anymore, but he hopes that there is some divine intervention that lets Changmin hear them.
His speech slurs because of the bottles of wine he leaves on the floor of the mausoleum along with the shards of broken glass. "Changminah. Changminah. I wrote this for you. Wrote it for you. You were supposed to sing it. Not them. Not them. You."
"He was a great guy." Yoochun is startled by the voice and wipes away the tears as best as he can before turning to face it. "He was a great guy. I wish I had gotten to know him better."
The man's name, Yoochun finds out (as they share a glass of wine and some tears) is Junsu and was in the same company as Changmin. His laughter is something that sounds like it should be in a cartoon and his ass is too big, Yoochun thinks. But he's the first new friend he's made in years and he won't turn him away.
Yoochun finds out over more glasses of wine (this time at Junsu's apartment) that Changmin talked about Yoochun all the time. "Yoochunah this and Yoochunah that," Junsu starts, leaning closer and closer and Yoochun thinks that he's getting too close for comfort. "He was a sap for you. I was jealous. I always wanted to meet you."
But if you keep real close
Yeah, you stay real close
I will reach you.
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me
Can you hear me still
"Guys, this is Junsu. I've told you about him," Yoochun says as he finally managed to drag Junsu out for drinks. Junsu's eyes light up brighter than Yoochun's ever seen them as he puts his hand out to shake Yunho's hand. "I've heard so much about you," he finally acknowledges Jaejoong, "Both of you." Letting him into the circle is easy enough. After all, he knew Changmin. He's been a great friend to Yoochun. But the tension that it brings the other two behind closed doors is something Yoochun only discovers when Jaejoong absently tells him his insecurities.
"You don't think he'd leave me, do you?" Jaejoong hadn't smoked in years, but no one would be able to tell as he polished off his third cigarette of the night.
Leaning over, Yoochun helped him light his fourth, "He'd have to be an idiot, hyung. Don't talk like that."
Over time, Yoochun realizes that neither of them are what each other wants. Not yet, at least. Yoochun reminds himself that he'll never be it for him, but if he could, he'd be it for Junsu.
Junsu tells him that he loves him and assumes by Yoochun silencing him with a kiss, a hand through the hair, and the other starting to push up his shirt, that he feels the same. Clothes are shed, time and time again, and Yoochun feels a little less empty each time. Maybe he could fall in love with him. Maybe.
Yoochun decides to put something more into the relationship and asks Junsu to move in with him. More i love yous are said and he starts moving in the next day.
One day, Yoochun comes home early to a quiet house. "I just really think that you should reconsider." Junsu. Was he on the phone? Yoochun stops dead in his tracks. His chest starts to tighten and he can't figure out why.
"I'm really sorry." Yunho's voice. Jaejoong isn't here. Jaejoong is at home making dinner.
"Do you think the two of you will last? Does he even love you?"
"I don't think you- I'm happy with Jaejoongah." Silence. Yoochun could hear his heart beating out of his chest. "I thought you were happy with Yoochun." Yoochun could tell by the shift in Yunho's tone of voice that he was getting angry. He walks one more step, glancing inside the living room. Yunho looks as though he's ready to kill, fists and jaw clenched. Yunho looks up and meets Yoochun's shocked gaze.
"...hey, Yoochunah. Jaejoong made kimchi."
Yoochun nods before disappearing into the kitchen. "Thanks, hyung."
The sound tires on my lips
To fade away into forgetting
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me
Can you hear me
They argue. More than Yoochun and Changmin ever did. Over petty things, useless things, and Yoochun knows it's because they're just not saying what they need to say.
"I don't want to deal with this right now, Yoochun." (You don't love me.)
"Why are you getting pissed off?" (I'm not who you want.)
"Why are you getting defensive?" (Why are we doing this?)
"I'm not. Changmin would never-" (I wish he hadn't died.)
"Well, Yunho would never ever-" (I wish he wasn't with him.)
"How the hell would you know how he would react? He's just your dirty fantasy." (How could you bring him into this?)
Silence. (Says the man who is in love with the dead.)
"Nothing to say? Really? Do you think I'm blind? That I didn't notice the glances when Jaejoong wasn't around? Do you think I'm an idiot?" (Fuck you.)
"Says the man who is in love with the dead." (Fuck you too.)
"Get out."
"Yoochun, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." (Shit shit shit shit.)
Yoochun doesn't listen to the apologies and starts to pack his own bag. If Junsu won't leave, he will. It was as simple as that. After a rushed phone call, Jaejoong and Yunho offer to take him to the airport. Yoochun has family there, so he won't be alone. He promises to call and write as long as they promise to visit. It isn't anything permanent; nothing with Yoochun ever is. Not anymore.
I'm down to a whisper
In a daydream on a hill
Shut down to a whisper
Can you hear me
Can you hear me still
The flight back to the United States was a long one. He was on board with a military crew, it seemed. Of course. Of course. And he was sat next to one of the good old army boys heading home on leave. Of course. Of course. They're making jokes full of sexual innuendos and Yoochun thinks that Changmin would've liked this group of guys. The laughter is familiar to him, but he can't place it. (Because sometimes it's easier to forget.)
"What are you reading," the army boy asks him.
"Ansel Adams: An Autobiography." Changmin always wanted to be a photographer.
"Ain't read it before. Must be good, huh?" The army boy lets out a laugh and Yoochun catches a glimpse of his eyes looking mismatched. He looks about twenty-two and Yoochun can't stop his brain from making more similarities. Like how his bangs brush over his eyes. Like how his features soften as he laughs. "Always loved photography."
"Something like that. I'm Yoochun, by the way," he says and shuts his book, shoving it away in his messenger bag.
"Max."