fic: it's easier to imagine
Title: It's Easier to Imagine
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Notes: How far I have fallen!! ~2600 words. Completely dissatisfied with the ending but, well. Thanks to Tilly for looking this over, ilusm! ♥ For Dione!! And Klarisse, I hope you're feeling better/like Yoosu...♥
Summary: There are complications and there are stupid things and then there's this.
Yoochun is the epitome of careless youth: all skinny fingers, cigarettes smoked on the sly, and a long-standing affair with stardom from which he is slowly dying.
“I could wrap my hands twice around your wrist,” Junsu tells Yoochun, frowning. Yoochun doesn’t even look up from his book. This is a familiar speech - he’s heard it before, if not from Junsu, then Yunho. If not Yunho, then manager-hyung. “You don’t sleep, you barely eat; how aren’t you dead yet?”
“Because you’re keeping me alive, baby,” Yoochun says automatically, all smile and teeth; Junsu blinks, slightly taken back by Yoochun’s easy flirting, and Yoochun smiles for real this time and closes his book. He’s only half-joking and mostly serious. “Just kidding. Not really. I just never knew being famous would be such a pain, you know? Don’t have the time to eat.” When he makes an exaggerated face of disgust, Junsu just looks suspicious.
“You’ve been saying that since debut,” Junsu points out. “When are you going to get used to it then, huh?”
Yoochun pretends he doesn’t hear Junsu’s question, and instead coaxes an impromptu hug out of Junsu, wrapping thin limbs around his shoulders. Yoochun gets like this sometimes, sometimes needs the comfort, the touch. “You have to take care of yourself, okay?” He tells Junsu seriously, and pinches his side. “This never used to be all skin.”
Junsu blushes, swats his hands away. “Yah,” he complains. “Who’s the one always telling me to go on a diet, huh?”
Yoochun wrinkles his nose as if in deep thought. “Oh, right,” he says slowly. “That was me, wasn’t it? Just kidding Su, I like my girls plump.”
“I’m not a girl,” Junsu replies crossly, but despite his tone, folds his arms self-consciously and Yoochun feels a pang of guilt. He thinks about tugging Junsu’s arms apart and telling him that he’s just kidding, that he thinks he’s beautiful. He thinks about the old dream, the one before this one about fame that came true, the one about falling in love.
“No, guess you’re not,” Yoochun mumbles, and settles for bumping his shoulder against Junsu’s. “Built like one, though,” he adds a minute later, and doesn’t stop laughing when Junsu reacts just as he always does.
“Aish, I don’t even want to talk to you anymore,” Junsu cries, cheeks pink. He shoves Yoochun roughly. “I’m going to go see if Changmin’s busy.” He storms out, fed up. Yoochun stops laughing because laughing alone is the loneliest feeling there is and opens his book again.
“Hey, Jae. Jae, wake up.” Yoochun waits patiently for a second, and then shakes Jaejoong roughly.
“Mmfwha?” Jaejoong asks, rubbing at his eyes.
“Let me kiss you,” Yoochun says, almost without thinking. This was definitely not what he was going to say originally, he decides, but it would work too.
Thankfully, Jaejoong doesn’t disappoint and ask questions or something equally uncomfortable. He only blinks sleepily, and then shrugs. “Okay, I guess. Why?”
Jaejoong sits up and Yoochun crosses the distance to kiss him, sweet and hesitant. It’s nice and comfortable and it’s probably just because Jaejoong’s a good kisser but still...still, it’s not what Yoochun’s looking for. It does feel nice enough that Yoochun gets it though. “Just wanted to see if I would like it,” he answers, licking at his lips.
“And did you?” Jaejoong prompts, expectant. His gaze is tired and familiar and very Jaejoong.
“It was nice,” Yoochun replies, slowly. “It was nice, but it’s not you, specifically. You know?”
Jaejoong makes a face at that, pulling his blankets over his head with a dramatic flourish. “Oh be like that,” he sniffs. “Just take advantage of Jaejoong the big hearted, why don’t you. Wake him up, ravage him, and then insult him.” He pauses, and then pokes his head out of his blanket cocoon. “Of course it was nice,” he adds in a smug tone a second later that indicates he can’t believe Yoochun would’ve ever thought otherwise.
“If by big hearted, you mean slut, then okay, yes, I will,” Yoochun shoots back, rolling over to the far side of his bed just in case. “Hey, Jaejoong?”
“No, I will not give you a blowjob,” Jaejoong replies sleepily. “‘M tired, Chunnie, go away.”
Yoochun sits up, and gives his lump-shaped best friend a dirty look. “What. Why would you ever think I would want a blowjob from you?” He asks, horrified. “My God, what a nightmare. Don’t even say things like that.”
“I’m going to be extremely magnanimous and pretend you didn’t say that,” Jaejoong says calmly, and rolls over to face Yoochun. “What do you want, Yoochun? I’m going to go sleep with Changmin-ah and Junsu if you don’t shut up.” It’s an empty threat though, especially with Jaejoong still half-asleep and vulnerable-looking.
Yoochun hesitates. “Sorry, Joongie.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Jaejoong yawns. “What are best friends for if not waking the other up at 2 AM to confirm one’s sexuality?”
Yoochun laughs at that one. “Okay, okay. Sorry Jae. Good night.”
“You better be sorry,” Jaejoong mumbles, words running together. “Night, Chunnie.”
Life, as Yoochun knows it, is not like the movies Yunho and Changmin watch during their ‘quality time’ together and pretend not to cry over. In real life, Yoochun can like all the boys that he wants, but he can only do it in secret.
“So, what’s it like?” Junsu wants to know, and he’s curious, a little apprehensive. Yoochun’s only happy it’s not prejudice or disgust, but that doesn’t make the slightly judgmental tone of Junsu’s voice any better.
“Why?” Yoochun asks, eyebrow raised. “Thinking about liking boys too?” Even he knows it comes out kind of bitter; he sees Junsu shuffle, sees the face he almost-but-doesn’t-make. He smiles, tired. “I’m just kidding, Su-yah.” He purses his lips, and fingers Junsu’s sleeve. “Honestly, it’s not much different from liking women. Men feel different, maybe.” He draws an imaginary line from Junsu’s wrist to the inside of his elbow. “Not as soft,” a circle around a beauty mark, “but just as beautiful,” a tap on the skin of his arm.
“Interesting,” Junsu allows, pulling his arm away.
“It is,” Yoochun confirms, eyes closed. “More options for love, you know. Or something.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work, Yoochun-ah.”
“No,” Yoochun says, and shrugs. “You’re right. I guess not.”
“Hey Changmin-ah,” Yoochun says casually, throwing himself onto the sofa next to Changmin. “Changmin-ah.”
“Mm,” Changmin more or less grunts, not even looking up from his laptop. “What do you want, hyung.”
“Can’t just visit you out of goodwill?” Yoochun pouts. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”
“Nope,” Changmin replies cheerfully. “Now spit it out. What do you want?”
“Since you’re the resident genius,” Yoochun starts, and Changmin snorts. Cute, hyung. “Since you’re the resident genius, want to tell me what my chances are?”
Changmin doesn’t need Yoochun to clarify to know what he means. “For who?”
Yoochun shrugs. “Everyone, I guess.”
“Do you want me to be hopeful or realistic?”
Yoochun curls up into a ball and laughs for a very long time. “Realistic, Changmin-ah. If I wanted hopeful, I would’ve asked Joongie.”
Changmin pushes his glasses up his nose and smiles. “True.” He thinks about it for a second, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn. Finally, he concedes, “Junsu less than me, Yunho less than that, Jaejoong never.”
“Really,” Yoochun says in surprise. “Jaejoong, never?”
A shrug. “Probably. Too similar. Best friends don’t necessarily translate to good lovers, you know. Jaejoong wants…dynamic but happy love. Ever after love.”
“And me?” Yoochun prompts. He has his hand over his eyes and he doesn’t know if he should be laughing or offended or not.
“You…” Changmin hesitates, like he’s not sure if he should say it. “You’re a little like Jaejoong, but also incredibly different. I don’t pretend to know, but I feel like you don’t want anything you can get too easily.”
Yoochun stands up, laughing. “Thanks Changmin-ah. So Jaejoong’s an optimist and I get to be a masochist? Touching.”
“Yah, don’t twist my words around like that,” Changmin protests, but he’s fighting a smile. “And you are a masochist, okay.”
“Or maybe I just like to challenge myself,” Yoochun counters. He moves Changmin’s laptop and seats himself in his lap, ignoring Changmin’s cry of anguish. “So my best chances are with you? Have you fallen in love with me then, Minnie-ah? I wouldn’t blame you.” He grins, touching his nose to Changmin’s.
“Aish, hyung.” Changmin cringes and pushes at him. “I take back what I said, only your mother could ever love someone like you.”
“I know your secret,” Junsu sing-songs into Yoochun’s ear smugly. “You think you’re so sneaky, Park Yoochun, don’t you!”
It is six-thirty in the morning, Yoochun’s had a grand total of two hours of sleep last night and Junsu’s cheerfulness is kind of really annoying.
“Which one,” Yoochun replies irritably, without thinking. “The one where I like you, or the one where I accidentally broke Jaejoong’s glasses yesterday? Because Jae hasn’t found about his glasses yet and I’d rather you not judge me for the first.”
Junsu falters and Yoochun realizes that yes, he did just say that out loud and judging from the look on Junsu’s face, he had meant the latter.
“Fuck,” he thinks/says, and then repeats it in English when he realizes that apparently his brain to mouth pathway is wide open. He grimaces, and laughs awkwardly. “Well, you know,” he says, lamely. Pauses, and Yoochun doesn’t even want to try to identify the individual emotions on Junsu’s face. “Actually, I don’t know. Sorry, Junsu-yah. Sorry.”
Yoochun takes the opportunity to run far, far away and not look back. He latches himself to Jaejoong’s side for the day and only shakes his head, tears prickling at his eyes, when asked what’s wrong.
The thing is, he knows. He knows that it doesn’t matter how sincere, how earnest he is - that doesn’t matter in reality. In reality, he could harbor the biggest almost-love crush on Junsu, and absolutely nothing could come from it. He knows that sometimes (most of time) love and earnestness and sincerity can’t work miracles, can’t convince a heart set on the idea of what’s ‘normal,’ what’s accepted.
Yoochun hates it. He hates it and he can’t do a thing about it. He walks away from Junsu every single time Junsu tries to talk to him, and he doesn’t know whether it’s the rejection or the fear of what Junsu might say to try to make it better that keeps him away.
“Jaejoong, I need some comforting,” Yoochun says pathetically. “Come on, Jaejoong-ah, please.”
“What can I say to you that you haven’t thought of and discarded already?” Jaejoong asks gently. “Go talk to Yunho-yah, okay? He’ll be more help than I am. More honest, too.”
“Don’t want honesty, just want some damn comfort,” Yoochun mutters, trudging along to Yunho’s room. Pokes his head in, looks around. “Hey, Yunho-yah?”
“Yeah, Yoochun-ah?” Yunho takes off his glasses. He looks like he’s about to launch into a lecture, or even worse, some kind of interrogation, and Yoochun plans on turning around and finding Changmin if he does, but instead he just holds out his arms and asks, “Want a hug?”
“Yes,” Yoochun replies, grateful, lower lip stuck out in a permanent pout. He crawls into Yunho’s arms, and buries his face into his shoulder. Tears prickle at his eyes again, but he blinks them away furiously, eyelashes fluttering against the thin cotton of Yunho’s shirt.
“Sorry, Yoochun-ah,” Yunho finally says.
“Why are you apologizing?” Yoochun asks Yunho’s shoulder, voice muffled.
“Good point. Don’t know,” Yunho agrees, and rubs Yoochun’s back. He hesitates, and then asks, “Is there anything you want me to say?”
“Nothing.” A moment and Yunho waits. “Actually. Tell me it’ll be okay,” Yoochun breathes. “Promise me that it will.”
“It’ll be okay,” Yunho says softly, and his fingers scratch at Yoochun’s scalp. “I promise, Yoochun-ah.”
“Thanks, Yunho-yah.” Yoochun disentangles himself from Yunho. “Sorry for being like this.”
“No, it’s okay.” Yunho rubs Yoochun’s arm, eyes serious. “I don’t mind. No one minds.”
“Junsu does.”
Yunho hesitates, but then shakes his head slowly. “No,” he says, slow but sure. “No, not even Junsu.”
Yoochun smiles bitterly at that one. “Thanks, Yunho,” he says softly. “I didn’t need you to tell me that. I appreciate it though.”
“Yoochun-ah, why are you being like this?” Junsu manages to corner Yoochun in his room one day, and even locks the door behind him just in case.
Yoochun forces his eyes from his book. “Oh hi, Junsu-yah,” he says weakly, waving.
“Why are you being like this?” Junsu repeats. “Don’t be like this. Please.” He frowns, the most serious Yoochun has seen Junsu in a long time.
“I don’t even know - well then, how should I be?” Yoochun snaps, unexpectedly angry.
“You tell me,” Junsu snaps back, but softens. “I don’t know why you are. I never told you no.”
Yoochun opens his mouth, an angry response just on his tongue, and then closes it when he realizes that he’s spent so much time running away from Junsu that he hasn’t even bothered to wait for an answer.
“I knew you could never say no to me,” Yoochun jokes, but it’s weak and falls flat between them. He closes his book and sighs, rubbing at his face. “Just kidding. You can say no. Go ahead.” He looks away from Junsu, expecting the rejection, and instead hears an irritable sigh.
“Why don’t you ever let me finish?” Junsu sits down in front of Yoochun, and curls one hand around his wrist and another on his shoulder. Junsu’s hands are cold and clammy and this situation is not smooth and not like the situations with the kinds of boys that Yoochun normally likes, cool and collected and poised and pretty much as far away from Junsu as possible.
“I don’t want to know.” Yoochun frowns at the hand around his wrist, holding him like he’s about to break some bad news to him. “I’m fragile, okay, Junsu. I’m delicate. Spare me if you’re going to break my heart and just let me wallow in my self-pity in peace.”
“Stop being such a drama queen,” Junsu retorts angrily, though his hands are shaking. “Why are you being so goddamn selfish, huh Yoochun? Is it really so inconceivable that maybe I won’t try to break your heart? Is it really? Do you really think that I’m just some kind of heartless, prejudiced asshole?”
“Junsu-yah,” Yoochun says, finally, after a few minutes of hopingwishingwantingitsobadly. “Junsu-yah, pity doesn’t translate to love.”
“Yoochun,” Junsu breathes, the anger subsiding, and pulls Yoochun in for a hug, holding him like he is something precious and breakable and beautiful. “Yoochun, it’s not like that. You know it’s not. That’s not how it works. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Yoochun blinks furiously. “You’re right. I guess not.” He pulls away, trying to wipe away the tears before Junsu can see them. “Should’ve just let me suffer in peace,” he mumbles, trying to smile.
“Don’t you get it yet?” Junsu breaks in, agitated, and Yoochun jumps. He stares at Junsu, whose hair is sticking up and agitated and whose cheeks are burning red in embarrassment and restlessness. “Yoochun-ah. Yoochun-ah, don’t you get it?”
“No,” Yoochun replies, still staring. “No, aren’t you breaking my heart right now? What more do I have to get?”
Junsu makes a frustrated noise in his throat, something in between you’re so stupid Yoochun and I’m sorry and launches himself at Yoochun, arms settling around his skinny waist and face buried in his shoulder. “Yoochun-ah,” he whispers, breath warm and moist against Yoochun’s skin. “Yoochun-ah, I still haven’t said no yet.”
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Notes: How far I have fallen!! ~2600 words. Completely dissatisfied with the ending but, well. Thanks to Tilly for looking this over, ilusm! ♥ For Dione!! And Klarisse, I hope you're feeling better/like Yoosu...♥
Summary: There are complications and there are stupid things and then there's this.
Yoochun is the epitome of careless youth: all skinny fingers, cigarettes smoked on the sly, and a long-standing affair with stardom from which he is slowly dying.
“I could wrap my hands twice around your wrist,” Junsu tells Yoochun, frowning. Yoochun doesn’t even look up from his book. This is a familiar speech - he’s heard it before, if not from Junsu, then Yunho. If not Yunho, then manager-hyung. “You don’t sleep, you barely eat; how aren’t you dead yet?”
“Because you’re keeping me alive, baby,” Yoochun says automatically, all smile and teeth; Junsu blinks, slightly taken back by Yoochun’s easy flirting, and Yoochun smiles for real this time and closes his book. He’s only half-joking and mostly serious. “Just kidding. Not really. I just never knew being famous would be such a pain, you know? Don’t have the time to eat.” When he makes an exaggerated face of disgust, Junsu just looks suspicious.
“You’ve been saying that since debut,” Junsu points out. “When are you going to get used to it then, huh?”
Yoochun pretends he doesn’t hear Junsu’s question, and instead coaxes an impromptu hug out of Junsu, wrapping thin limbs around his shoulders. Yoochun gets like this sometimes, sometimes needs the comfort, the touch. “You have to take care of yourself, okay?” He tells Junsu seriously, and pinches his side. “This never used to be all skin.”
Junsu blushes, swats his hands away. “Yah,” he complains. “Who’s the one always telling me to go on a diet, huh?”
Yoochun wrinkles his nose as if in deep thought. “Oh, right,” he says slowly. “That was me, wasn’t it? Just kidding Su, I like my girls plump.”
“I’m not a girl,” Junsu replies crossly, but despite his tone, folds his arms self-consciously and Yoochun feels a pang of guilt. He thinks about tugging Junsu’s arms apart and telling him that he’s just kidding, that he thinks he’s beautiful. He thinks about the old dream, the one before this one about fame that came true, the one about falling in love.
“No, guess you’re not,” Yoochun mumbles, and settles for bumping his shoulder against Junsu’s. “Built like one, though,” he adds a minute later, and doesn’t stop laughing when Junsu reacts just as he always does.
“Aish, I don’t even want to talk to you anymore,” Junsu cries, cheeks pink. He shoves Yoochun roughly. “I’m going to go see if Changmin’s busy.” He storms out, fed up. Yoochun stops laughing because laughing alone is the loneliest feeling there is and opens his book again.
“Hey, Jae. Jae, wake up.” Yoochun waits patiently for a second, and then shakes Jaejoong roughly.
“Mmfwha?” Jaejoong asks, rubbing at his eyes.
“Let me kiss you,” Yoochun says, almost without thinking. This was definitely not what he was going to say originally, he decides, but it would work too.
Thankfully, Jaejoong doesn’t disappoint and ask questions or something equally uncomfortable. He only blinks sleepily, and then shrugs. “Okay, I guess. Why?”
Jaejoong sits up and Yoochun crosses the distance to kiss him, sweet and hesitant. It’s nice and comfortable and it’s probably just because Jaejoong’s a good kisser but still...still, it’s not what Yoochun’s looking for. It does feel nice enough that Yoochun gets it though. “Just wanted to see if I would like it,” he answers, licking at his lips.
“And did you?” Jaejoong prompts, expectant. His gaze is tired and familiar and very Jaejoong.
“It was nice,” Yoochun replies, slowly. “It was nice, but it’s not you, specifically. You know?”
Jaejoong makes a face at that, pulling his blankets over his head with a dramatic flourish. “Oh be like that,” he sniffs. “Just take advantage of Jaejoong the big hearted, why don’t you. Wake him up, ravage him, and then insult him.” He pauses, and then pokes his head out of his blanket cocoon. “Of course it was nice,” he adds in a smug tone a second later that indicates he can’t believe Yoochun would’ve ever thought otherwise.
“If by big hearted, you mean slut, then okay, yes, I will,” Yoochun shoots back, rolling over to the far side of his bed just in case. “Hey, Jaejoong?”
“No, I will not give you a blowjob,” Jaejoong replies sleepily. “‘M tired, Chunnie, go away.”
Yoochun sits up, and gives his lump-shaped best friend a dirty look. “What. Why would you ever think I would want a blowjob from you?” He asks, horrified. “My God, what a nightmare. Don’t even say things like that.”
“I’m going to be extremely magnanimous and pretend you didn’t say that,” Jaejoong says calmly, and rolls over to face Yoochun. “What do you want, Yoochun? I’m going to go sleep with Changmin-ah and Junsu if you don’t shut up.” It’s an empty threat though, especially with Jaejoong still half-asleep and vulnerable-looking.
Yoochun hesitates. “Sorry, Joongie.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Jaejoong yawns. “What are best friends for if not waking the other up at 2 AM to confirm one’s sexuality?”
Yoochun laughs at that one. “Okay, okay. Sorry Jae. Good night.”
“You better be sorry,” Jaejoong mumbles, words running together. “Night, Chunnie.”
Life, as Yoochun knows it, is not like the movies Yunho and Changmin watch during their ‘quality time’ together and pretend not to cry over. In real life, Yoochun can like all the boys that he wants, but he can only do it in secret.
“So, what’s it like?” Junsu wants to know, and he’s curious, a little apprehensive. Yoochun’s only happy it’s not prejudice or disgust, but that doesn’t make the slightly judgmental tone of Junsu’s voice any better.
“Why?” Yoochun asks, eyebrow raised. “Thinking about liking boys too?” Even he knows it comes out kind of bitter; he sees Junsu shuffle, sees the face he almost-but-doesn’t-make. He smiles, tired. “I’m just kidding, Su-yah.” He purses his lips, and fingers Junsu’s sleeve. “Honestly, it’s not much different from liking women. Men feel different, maybe.” He draws an imaginary line from Junsu’s wrist to the inside of his elbow. “Not as soft,” a circle around a beauty mark, “but just as beautiful,” a tap on the skin of his arm.
“Interesting,” Junsu allows, pulling his arm away.
“It is,” Yoochun confirms, eyes closed. “More options for love, you know. Or something.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work, Yoochun-ah.”
“No,” Yoochun says, and shrugs. “You’re right. I guess not.”
“Hey Changmin-ah,” Yoochun says casually, throwing himself onto the sofa next to Changmin. “Changmin-ah.”
“Mm,” Changmin more or less grunts, not even looking up from his laptop. “What do you want, hyung.”
“Can’t just visit you out of goodwill?” Yoochun pouts. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”
“Nope,” Changmin replies cheerfully. “Now spit it out. What do you want?”
“Since you’re the resident genius,” Yoochun starts, and Changmin snorts. Cute, hyung. “Since you’re the resident genius, want to tell me what my chances are?”
Changmin doesn’t need Yoochun to clarify to know what he means. “For who?”
Yoochun shrugs. “Everyone, I guess.”
“Do you want me to be hopeful or realistic?”
Yoochun curls up into a ball and laughs for a very long time. “Realistic, Changmin-ah. If I wanted hopeful, I would’ve asked Joongie.”
Changmin pushes his glasses up his nose and smiles. “True.” He thinks about it for a second, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn. Finally, he concedes, “Junsu less than me, Yunho less than that, Jaejoong never.”
“Really,” Yoochun says in surprise. “Jaejoong, never?”
A shrug. “Probably. Too similar. Best friends don’t necessarily translate to good lovers, you know. Jaejoong wants…dynamic but happy love. Ever after love.”
“And me?” Yoochun prompts. He has his hand over his eyes and he doesn’t know if he should be laughing or offended or not.
“You…” Changmin hesitates, like he’s not sure if he should say it. “You’re a little like Jaejoong, but also incredibly different. I don’t pretend to know, but I feel like you don’t want anything you can get too easily.”
Yoochun stands up, laughing. “Thanks Changmin-ah. So Jaejoong’s an optimist and I get to be a masochist? Touching.”
“Yah, don’t twist my words around like that,” Changmin protests, but he’s fighting a smile. “And you are a masochist, okay.”
“Or maybe I just like to challenge myself,” Yoochun counters. He moves Changmin’s laptop and seats himself in his lap, ignoring Changmin’s cry of anguish. “So my best chances are with you? Have you fallen in love with me then, Minnie-ah? I wouldn’t blame you.” He grins, touching his nose to Changmin’s.
“Aish, hyung.” Changmin cringes and pushes at him. “I take back what I said, only your mother could ever love someone like you.”
“I know your secret,” Junsu sing-songs into Yoochun’s ear smugly. “You think you’re so sneaky, Park Yoochun, don’t you!”
It is six-thirty in the morning, Yoochun’s had a grand total of two hours of sleep last night and Junsu’s cheerfulness is kind of really annoying.
“Which one,” Yoochun replies irritably, without thinking. “The one where I like you, or the one where I accidentally broke Jaejoong’s glasses yesterday? Because Jae hasn’t found about his glasses yet and I’d rather you not judge me for the first.”
Junsu falters and Yoochun realizes that yes, he did just say that out loud and judging from the look on Junsu’s face, he had meant the latter.
“Fuck,” he thinks/says, and then repeats it in English when he realizes that apparently his brain to mouth pathway is wide open. He grimaces, and laughs awkwardly. “Well, you know,” he says, lamely. Pauses, and Yoochun doesn’t even want to try to identify the individual emotions on Junsu’s face. “Actually, I don’t know. Sorry, Junsu-yah. Sorry.”
Yoochun takes the opportunity to run far, far away and not look back. He latches himself to Jaejoong’s side for the day and only shakes his head, tears prickling at his eyes, when asked what’s wrong.
The thing is, he knows. He knows that it doesn’t matter how sincere, how earnest he is - that doesn’t matter in reality. In reality, he could harbor the biggest almost-love crush on Junsu, and absolutely nothing could come from it. He knows that sometimes (most of time) love and earnestness and sincerity can’t work miracles, can’t convince a heart set on the idea of what’s ‘normal,’ what’s accepted.
Yoochun hates it. He hates it and he can’t do a thing about it. He walks away from Junsu every single time Junsu tries to talk to him, and he doesn’t know whether it’s the rejection or the fear of what Junsu might say to try to make it better that keeps him away.
“Jaejoong, I need some comforting,” Yoochun says pathetically. “Come on, Jaejoong-ah, please.”
“What can I say to you that you haven’t thought of and discarded already?” Jaejoong asks gently. “Go talk to Yunho-yah, okay? He’ll be more help than I am. More honest, too.”
“Don’t want honesty, just want some damn comfort,” Yoochun mutters, trudging along to Yunho’s room. Pokes his head in, looks around. “Hey, Yunho-yah?”
“Yeah, Yoochun-ah?” Yunho takes off his glasses. He looks like he’s about to launch into a lecture, or even worse, some kind of interrogation, and Yoochun plans on turning around and finding Changmin if he does, but instead he just holds out his arms and asks, “Want a hug?”
“Yes,” Yoochun replies, grateful, lower lip stuck out in a permanent pout. He crawls into Yunho’s arms, and buries his face into his shoulder. Tears prickle at his eyes again, but he blinks them away furiously, eyelashes fluttering against the thin cotton of Yunho’s shirt.
“Sorry, Yoochun-ah,” Yunho finally says.
“Why are you apologizing?” Yoochun asks Yunho’s shoulder, voice muffled.
“Good point. Don’t know,” Yunho agrees, and rubs Yoochun’s back. He hesitates, and then asks, “Is there anything you want me to say?”
“Nothing.” A moment and Yunho waits. “Actually. Tell me it’ll be okay,” Yoochun breathes. “Promise me that it will.”
“It’ll be okay,” Yunho says softly, and his fingers scratch at Yoochun’s scalp. “I promise, Yoochun-ah.”
“Thanks, Yunho-yah.” Yoochun disentangles himself from Yunho. “Sorry for being like this.”
“No, it’s okay.” Yunho rubs Yoochun’s arm, eyes serious. “I don’t mind. No one minds.”
“Junsu does.”
Yunho hesitates, but then shakes his head slowly. “No,” he says, slow but sure. “No, not even Junsu.”
Yoochun smiles bitterly at that one. “Thanks, Yunho,” he says softly. “I didn’t need you to tell me that. I appreciate it though.”
“Yoochun-ah, why are you being like this?” Junsu manages to corner Yoochun in his room one day, and even locks the door behind him just in case.
Yoochun forces his eyes from his book. “Oh hi, Junsu-yah,” he says weakly, waving.
“Why are you being like this?” Junsu repeats. “Don’t be like this. Please.” He frowns, the most serious Yoochun has seen Junsu in a long time.
“I don’t even know - well then, how should I be?” Yoochun snaps, unexpectedly angry.
“You tell me,” Junsu snaps back, but softens. “I don’t know why you are. I never told you no.”
Yoochun opens his mouth, an angry response just on his tongue, and then closes it when he realizes that he’s spent so much time running away from Junsu that he hasn’t even bothered to wait for an answer.
“I knew you could never say no to me,” Yoochun jokes, but it’s weak and falls flat between them. He closes his book and sighs, rubbing at his face. “Just kidding. You can say no. Go ahead.” He looks away from Junsu, expecting the rejection, and instead hears an irritable sigh.
“Why don’t you ever let me finish?” Junsu sits down in front of Yoochun, and curls one hand around his wrist and another on his shoulder. Junsu’s hands are cold and clammy and this situation is not smooth and not like the situations with the kinds of boys that Yoochun normally likes, cool and collected and poised and pretty much as far away from Junsu as possible.
“I don’t want to know.” Yoochun frowns at the hand around his wrist, holding him like he’s about to break some bad news to him. “I’m fragile, okay, Junsu. I’m delicate. Spare me if you’re going to break my heart and just let me wallow in my self-pity in peace.”
“Stop being such a drama queen,” Junsu retorts angrily, though his hands are shaking. “Why are you being so goddamn selfish, huh Yoochun? Is it really so inconceivable that maybe I won’t try to break your heart? Is it really? Do you really think that I’m just some kind of heartless, prejudiced asshole?”
“Junsu-yah,” Yoochun says, finally, after a few minutes of hopingwishingwantingitsobadly. “Junsu-yah, pity doesn’t translate to love.”
“Yoochun,” Junsu breathes, the anger subsiding, and pulls Yoochun in for a hug, holding him like he is something precious and breakable and beautiful. “Yoochun, it’s not like that. You know it’s not. That’s not how it works. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Yoochun blinks furiously. “You’re right. I guess not.” He pulls away, trying to wipe away the tears before Junsu can see them. “Should’ve just let me suffer in peace,” he mumbles, trying to smile.
“Don’t you get it yet?” Junsu breaks in, agitated, and Yoochun jumps. He stares at Junsu, whose hair is sticking up and agitated and whose cheeks are burning red in embarrassment and restlessness. “Yoochun-ah. Yoochun-ah, don’t you get it?”
“No,” Yoochun replies, still staring. “No, aren’t you breaking my heart right now? What more do I have to get?”
Junsu makes a frustrated noise in his throat, something in between you’re so stupid Yoochun and I’m sorry and launches himself at Yoochun, arms settling around his skinny waist and face buried in his shoulder. “Yoochun-ah,” he whispers, breath warm and moist against Yoochun’s skin. “Yoochun-ah, I still haven’t said no yet.”