title: tous les memes (toujours et à jamais)
pairing: homin
rating: pg
warnings: unbeta'd
words: 1545
summer 2013
yunho usually wakes up at 3 in the morning if he doesn’t come home by then. it’s out of uneasiness, the constant jitteriness of always being on the move from schedules to photoshoots to radio shows, having to go to the bathroom because he drank too much water, or a combination of all of the above. even though tohoshinki finished their time tour weeks before, yunho still feels the adrenaline that keeps him alive on stage thrumming through every cell in his body and it keeps him up for hours until he passes out the next day.
on his way back from the bathroom, yunho sees muted blue light emanating from the living room, and finds changmin lying on the couch, limbs splayed over haphazardly, with an empty can of beer in his limp hand. yunho shakes his head at the sight, a tired small smile forming on his face. he pads to the living room, finds the remote, and turns off the tv-the room dims back to darkness. he then slowly tries pry changmin’s fingers from the can, but he’s got a surprisingly strong grip on it. yunho finally removes it from his hand and starts to go to the kitchen to throw it away, but changmin’s fingers find yunho’s wrist and literally wound themselves around it. yunho’s knee bangs on the side of the couch and he kneels down, holding down the pain with his lip between his teeth.
“ah changminnie, let go already,” yunho half whispers half exasperatedly laughs, tugging away from changmin’s grip.
“hyung, we’ll always perform together, right?” changmin asks sleepily, his grip tightening, and yunho’s too tired to differentiate whether changmin’s drunk talking or sleep talking, but the combination of the solemn tone with the underlying post-concert high, a million gradients of loneliness, and the vicelike grip makes yunho sigh.
he pats changmin’s hand supportively. “of course changmin, why wouldn’t we? we’re tohoshinki together.”
“promise hyung? promise me we’ll always be on the stage together, no matter what,” changmin says sternly, hanging onto yunho’s wrist like a lifeline, his forehead wrinkled, eyebrows furrowed seriously, eyes still closed asleep.
yunho doesn’t answer immediately, his attempts to unlatch himself from changmin falter. he knows, changmin knows, they can’t perform together as two forever with the sign of enlistment posted in their road. even beyond enlistment, yunho knows how long groups last after long hiatuses from enlistment and there aren’t many that still have fame firmly planted beneath their feet and fans still ready to turn the world over for them.
yunho hates making promises he knows he can’t keep in the first place, but he knows in his heart of hearts that changmin didn’t leave him in past lifetimes, won’t leave after enlistment, and definitely will never leave in the lifetimes that follow.
“of course, changmin. we’ll always stand on the stage together,” yunho promises with a kiss to changmin’s knuckles.
changmin’s lips curve into an unopened smile, one with so much sincerity and comfort that it turns yunho’s heart into a mismatched pile of rainbows and melted ice cream. changmin’s grip on yunho’s wrist loosens but his grip on yunho’s heart never loses strength even after he falls asleep at dawn.
summer 2015
changmin’s been crossing off each day he has with yunho until, as changmin likes to call it, d day, on his calendar. the imminent day of reckoning looms too close for changmin’s liking, so he throws himself into his drama and smtown preparations and pretends like nothing is wrong when in reality, everything is kind of close to falling apart. concert practices aren’t the same without yunho’s charm keeping the staff and dancers awake and even though he’s singing with his friends, the air enters and leaves changmin’s lungs differently than when he’s with yunho.
yunho’s been throwing himself into work as well, busy with the gwangju performance, endorsements, and photoshoots, trying to cram his essence into weeks to last the fans for the years he’ll be gone. he can’t stand the clock ticking one hour, one minute, one second closer to the reality he has to face so he stays as busy as possible, seeing old friends and family he hasn’t seen in a while, and relishing his time as top idol u know yunho before he steps down to soldier jung yunho.
they haven’t been talking to each other often, but changmin makes sure he takes the time to see yunho at least once a week, bringing food and news in plastic bags and casual voices. changmin finds yunho poring over the script for “i order you” at the dining table, water bottle in one hand and spatula in the other. what the spatula is really for, changmin really doesn’t know, but as long as it helps yunho focus, he’s not complaining. he slips his feet out of his shoes and shakes the bag full of tupperware noodles and beer to get yunho’s attention. the older male doesn’t notice, still focused on the script as he waves the spatula in the air.
“yunho hyung,” changmin calls out, walking towards the table, and then yunho looks up, a smile etching his face when he sees the food set out in front of him.
“changdol, this looks really good,” yunho compliments, sliding the script and spatula off to the side so he can eat properly. changmin sits next to yunho, back slumping against the chair.
“yeah, took a few pages out of the recipe book you bought,” the younger male says, mixing hot sauce into his own bowl. he takes a bite, chews on the glass noodles, contemplates, thinks it needs more hot sauce, and pours more.
yunho nods, slurping up the meal approvingly. “how’s practice going for the concert?” he asks quietly. yunho doesn’t like it, doesn’t like the fact he’s not performing on one of his favorite venues, doesn’t like the other fact that his favorite person is traveling alone, performing alone, at one of their favorite cities. he won’t be there backstage to crack jokes to lighten the mood, won’t be there to shout toho toho fighto, can’t peek at the red waves moving for them, won’t be there to perform with changmin like the world is theirs to take.
changmin shovels half the bowl’s noodles into his mouth to avoid talking, and only after he gulps down his glass of water does he answer, “it’s alright. just-not the same, you know?”
yunho does know, the feeling of discomfort from not having the same people around, but he doesn’t say or show anything, instead pushes a piece of broccoli up against the container.
“remember that promise?” yunho asks, glancing at his left hand, the silver ring glinting in the light.
“the one where you’d get rid of the giant teddy bear once you finish your drama?” changmin responds deadpanned.
yunho slumps. “not that one. the-here,” yunho says, twisting the ring off of his finger and holding it out to changmin.
changmin looks at yunho strangely, and then at the ring. “what’s this about? are you proposing in your drama?”
“no changminnie,” yunho says exasperatedly. “you made me promise we’d perform together all the time, but i can’t this time. so take the ring.”
"oh. that promise." there's a pause. the corner of changmin’s mouth quirks downwards. “the ring doesn’t replace you on stage though,” changmin says with a pout.
“my presence is still with you, isn’t it? that way,” yunho says, breathing in. this is harder than he thought. “you’re not alone on stage.” he takes changmin’s hand and slides the finger onto changmin’s right hand, index finger. yunho leans against his chair, waits for changmin’s reaction.
changmin doesn’t say anything, just stares at the warm ring on his finger, and he doesn’t know if he should kiss yunho or murder him because he feels like crying right now because the gesture is so yunho-like, genuine and perfect with the right touch of sappiness, that changmin can’t say or do anything for a while.
“thank you, yunho hyung,” changmin manages to say, vocal chords oddly strained. yunho pats changmin’s hand, thumb grazing the ring.
“anything for you, changmin,” and yunho smiles that million dollar smile that makes fangirls cry and changmin’s heart swell with love and hope that they’ll always be together forever.
smtown tokyo 2015 special
five minutes before rusty nail, changmin calls yunho, knowing he would be awake at the moment. yunho picks up after two rings with a cracked, “hello?”
“i’m going up now,” changmin says, fiddling with the ring on his finger.
“alright then,” yunho says. there’s a brief silence. “i believe in you. knock them dead.”
one of the staff members tell him he’s got 2 minutes before going on. changmin wants to say something important, but he can’t find the words that aren’t i love you or thank you for everything because it’s doesn’t encapsulate everything yunho has done for him.
“okay hyung. bye,” and with that, changmin ends the call. he takes a deep breath and enters the stage, greets the red ocean full force.
changmin sings his heart out, belts the air out of his lungs, kisses the ring and holds it out to the camera with the thought this one is for you and me, yunho.