[FANFIC] Beautiful Images
Title: Beautiful Images
Type: One Shot
Pairing: Junho/Chansung, Nichkhun/Junho
Words: 1800+
Somewhat based on a MV I watched very long ago, and now Nichkhun's love for photography reminded me of it. :)
Junho squeezed Chansung’s hand as they walked out of the building. Chansung shook his head and managed a small smile, though the tears in his eyes showed that he was not yet okay. They had just said their last farewells to his best friend since college, the friend he had shared a dormitory with, and grown up together with. It was a tragic event when accidents claimed the life of the young, and Junho wished he could forget that day.
He had met Chansung at a friend’s party shortly after graduation, and with him was his best friend, Nichkhun. They had been from the same college but being from different faculties, their paths had not crossed until now. Junho and Chansung struck it off immediately, spending most of the party getting to know each other better. They settled a time and day for their first date before the party was over, and then a date after that, and a date after that. Their relationship had progressed steadily and unfolded beautifully, like one out of a romance novel.
Chansung had shared the same dorm with Nichkhun in college, and after they graduated, they rented a flat together. This being the case, Junho was always bumping into Nichkhun when he went over to find Chansung, and he had become something of a middleman between him and Chansung, whenever they fought or whenever they planned surprises for each other. Nichkhun was always there when they were having home dates. They didn’t find his presence intrusive, and he didn’t seem to feel awkward, so it was all for the better.
“Why don’t you get a girlfriend, Nichkhun?” asked Chansung one day when they were all watching a romantic movie together, his arm around Junho’s shoulder on the couch while Nichkhun set on an arm chair a distance off.
“Unless you’re not into girls,” teased Junho, playing with Chansung’s fingers.
Nichkhun had only laughed as a reply, but hadn’t said anything else. Junho asked Chansung privately later, if Nichkhun had ever dated in the time that he had known him, but Chansung had replied in the negative. It seemed like Nichkhun hadn’t shown any interest in any one in all the time Chansung had known him, whether in guys or girls, and though they were best friends and knew almost everything about each other, Chansung didn’t probe where Nichkhun was not willing to speak out on.
A rare long weekend presented itself, and like every other couple, Junho set to work planning a short trip with Chansung. Privately, Chansung had asked him if it was OK for Nichkhun to come along. Junho had been slightly unwilling, but he understood why Chansung felt the need to bring him along - he knew Nichkhun would otherwise spend his long weekend doing nothing but staying at home, being the unsocial person that he was. When they had asked Nichkhun, he had initially protested against the idea of impinging on their couple time together, but with some persuasion, he finally relented.
Those short few days in the countryside had been beautiful. Nichkhun had apparently discovered a passion for photography and videography, and had volunteered to help Junho and Chansung capture their moments in that beautiful landscape. When they lost themselves in each other in the romantic sunset, Nichkhun was always there to take a picture of them to capture the moment. Junho began to feel pleased that they had brought him along, after all. When they asked why he suddenly discovered this enjoyment of photography, he had answered: “I like capturing beautiful images forever.”
It was also at the end of the few short days in the countryside that tragedy struck. Junho and Chansung were playing around on the beach, running along it and hugging each other on the sand. Nichkhun had, as usual, been filming all of this. He backed up along the sand dunes in order to get a wider shot of their silhouettes against the sea, and had walked backwards onto a road that was rarely used. He had been so absorbed in capturing the scene before him that he did not hear the truck rattling around the turn of the road. The driver, blinded and drowsy from the afternoon sun, had not noticed the figure in front of him even as he swerved.
Junho and Chansung were alerted by the screech of the tires, and the horrifying crash. Chansung was the first one to run with all the speed he could muster towards the scene. When Junho got there, it was a scene he probably would never forget for the rest of his life. It was evident from the weird twist of some limbs that some bones had been broken, and a deep gash along Nichkhun’s side was splurting out blood at an alarming rate. He was still conscious when Junho and Chansung arrived, but quickly slipped. The obscurity of their location meant an ambulance took a significant amount of time to arrive. He never regained his consciousness.
Junho brought Chansung back to his place after the funeral was over, where he crawled into bed. The shock of the accident and of so suddenly losing his friend was slowly seeping in, and Junho’s heart broke for his boyfriend as he grieved so silently, but so passionately. He had offered to help Chansung pack some clothes from his flat, a flat that he did not want to return to with everything about Nichkhun still lingering thickly in the air.
When Junho entered the flat, a package lay on the floor. It had been sent from the forensics department of the province where the accident had happened. He opened it in curiosity, and found a tape within, labelled with the date and the location where they had been holidaying in, in Nichkhun’s handwriting. Junho remembered the broken video camera that had lain next to Nichkhun, which he had been filming with before the truck hit him.
The only VCR player in the house was in Nichkhun’s room, and driven by his curiosity, that was where Junho was drawn to go. He opened the room gingerly and looked around. He had looked into but never stepped into Nichkhun’s room before. It still looked exactly the same, everything in its neat and proper place, the bed made up as if still expecting its owner to come back. A rush of sadness came over Junho for the first time. Though Nichkhun had always been there for both Chansung and him, for the past few years that they had been dating, he had never truly got to know him. He had never felt the need to ask Nichkhun more about himself, and only knew just as much as Chansung had told him. From the way Chansung was grieving over his death, Nichkhun must’ve been a worthy friend to have had.
Junho walked towards the VCR player and was about to place the tape into it, when something at the corner of his eye drew his attention. A familiar-looking brochure was sticking out of the drawer in the study desk. Forgetting himself, Junho went towards the desk and pulled out the drawer. Bound neatly with a canvas string was a stack of flyers, the bottom of which Junho was all too familiar with - the first school concert he had performed at when he was in his first year. Had Nichkhun been there? The second flyer was another student-organized performance, and as Junho leafed through the stack, he realised with a sting of shock that they were all flyers of performances or concerts that he had performed at, whether singing or dancing.
His curiosity was now burning with desperate urgency. He had never seen or knew about Nichkhun before meeting him and Chansung at that party after graduating from college - but had it been the same for Nichkhun? A small leather bound scrapbook was the only other thing left in the drawer. Junho snatched it up hastily and opened it. In the first few pages, there were mostly cuttings from the school newsletters, of when Junho had won such and such awards, or had been listed on the Honour Roll. Even if there had been so much of a mention of his name without any picture, it had been cut and pasted meticulously in that book. As the timeline of the book went on, the cuttings transited into actual photographs of Junho. Photographs that they had taken as a group together, which Nichkhun seemed to have duplicated a copy of and cut only Junho out. Many of them seemed to be candid pictures, of Junho pouting, Junho yelling out in horror, Junho turning around in surprise, but mostly, it was Junho smiling and grinning at the camera, showing off that splendid eyesmile he was so proud of.
Even though nothing was written or drawn on the scrapbook, Junho felt his heart torn as he leafed through the pages. The meticulousness of which each photo and cutting had been cut out and pasted on its pages showed how much care he had taken in compiling it. Nichkhun had never stepped over his boundaries, never taken any secret photos of Junho behind his back. It wrenched Junho’s heart to now realise how painful it must have been for Nichkhun, who had, despite being unsocial, attended that party in the hope of finally meeting Junho at last, but was instead relegated to the side as Junho forgot about his presence and flirted with his best friend instead.
With trembling fingers, Junho now inserted the tape into the VCR player and waited as it rewinded back towards the beginning. Evening was beginning now and as the light in the room faded, the images of the television screen cast a blueish hue on the whole room. At every scene, it was Junho and Chansung playing around in the different places they had visited, whether it was the sunflower field, or the meadows in the park, or on the swings in the playground. But in each scene the camera every so often zoomed in on Junho and focused on him only, capturing when the sunlight was caught in his brown hair, or when he laughed and smiled with such genuine happiness. Junho’s heart grew heavier and heavier as he watched, a lump growing in his throat. How could he have known…?
The tape finally rolled near to its end, as he heard the crashing of the waves, and Nichkhun shouting to the two of them on how to pose at the beach. The shot of the camera became wider as wider, as the wind howled in the camera’s microphone. Junho gripped the sheets on the bed, readying himself for what he knew must come next. But despite bracing himself, he was never quite prepared for the shrill screech, the sickening crash and the view of the camera being suddenly splattered with blood. He covered his mouth and burst into tears, but his eyes could not be ripped from the television screen. Nichkhun had dragged himself in front of the camera, despite not being able to move one broken arm, and had wiped the lens a little clearer of the blood. His face was scratched up, and a stream of blood was flowing down from his temple.
He smiled weakly at the camera. “Junho… I love you. I always have.”
The tape ended.
“I like capturing beautiful images forever.”