Meteors [Chapter 4]
Chapter: 4
Pairings: YooMin
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Fluff, slight Angst
Summary:
There is only one truth, Changmin believes, and only one question - is it the one you want?
There is only chance, Yoochun thinks - the meteor crashes, or it doesn’t. And if it does the only question is, will you run fast enough or let the stars collide?
Part 4. Of love, friends and acquaintances
Love, Yoochun promptly decided, is an extremely absurd feeling.
Yoochun knows about desire. He knows about affection, attachments, break ups, dead ends, the little something in a smile that speaks of a door waiting to be pushed open, and the first signs indicating an end just around the corner. All those have rules, tricky and sometimes cruel, but rules that Yoochun flatters himself with thinking he knows well - it’s a game he can play.
Love however, he muses while gazing at the kid conscientiously emptying a pack of cereals on the floor in front of his counter in the convenient store… love doesn’t have rules. Love will play dirty.
Take for instance the beyond ridiculous way he felt once the unwelcome realization crashed on him more than two weeks ago. “Love” barely crossed his mind and there Yoochun had felt like he kinda really would like to maybe kiss Changmin. Who was sitting on his couch like the epitome of gloom, with red eyes and a snotty nose. As if just thinking “love” could make one want to kiss people.
Crying people.
As far as Yoochun is concerned, nothing can kill off kissing inclinations faster than a tear-stricken face. If only because it’s gross.
Changmin didn’t look gross though.
Changmin looked very sad and tired, he had just attempted a much pitiful smile, he seemed younger than his age for a change, and his eyes kept silently asking for help. All in all, he was very un-Changmin. It was upsetting, but definitely not gross.
Yoochun’s frown deepens. The kid in front of him starts stomping on the spilled cereals, delighted by the various sounds he’s producing. Yoochun vaguely thinks of stopping him but children’s creativity shouldn’t be hindered, and he’s curious to see the look on his mother’s face when she’ll finally notice.
He wonders what’d be the look on Changmin’s face if he kissed him.
How his mouth would feel.
How the kiss would taste.
Yoochun easily imagines it - dry lips, unsure at first but for him they’d part, revealing both sweetness and spice, a tinge of want, the tang of need… a last moment of hesitation - ‘are you sure?’ - then the rush of electricity coursing through both their bodies, the need to get closer and breathe the same air, share the same heat, feel the same beat because inside their hearts would be racing against one another and then breaking the kiss, a suspended silence and an exchanged look - fire, relief, searching - a breathless sigh before-
“What are you doing??!!!”
Yoochun nearly falls from his chair.
He sits up straight and swiftly pulls the appropriate bored-and-sulky casher boy’s expression as a woman appears in his field of vision, running on heels that are five centimeters too high for the slippery tiled floor, the three bags in her hands and the demon child staring at her like a general in the process of evaluating the enemy forces. The mother screams again and Yoochun inwardly cheers for him as the kid turns around and runs in the opposite direction. None of the customers around makes a move to stop him.
All eyes are on her when the woman stumbles, flails her arms around in a vain attempt to find balance back, and falls much inelegantly on her bottom in the middle of the spilled cereals. Pity then prompts Yoochun to move from behind his counter.
“Could someone please bring that child back?” he says loudly before kneeling next to her, flashing his brightest smile at her crestfallen face. “Are you hurt somewhere?”
He smiles even more widely when he notices that she’s on the verge of tears. Changmin’s breakdown exhausted his resources of compassion for a full year at least, and it was Changmin. If this one decides to cry, Yoochun will give her toilet paper and leave.
“Can you stand?” he asks again, giving her a hand as she nods pitifully. She gets back to her feet with his help, wobbling unsteadily on her heels as Yoochun leads her out of the cereals-minefield.
A customer shows up a minute later dragging the unrepentant culprit by the hand. The woman turns bright red, about to scream her lungs out in an attempt to turn shame into rightful anger. Something about the kid’s sullen face tells Yoochun she’ll only embarrass herself further.
“Thank you!” he intervenes, bowing to the helpful customer.
“No problem” the guy walks away, followed by other customers now that the show is over.
Yoochun reads indecision on the woman’s face, torn between admonishing her son to her heart’s content and running out of here not to ever come back. He shrugs and walks to his counter, grabs a broom and gives it to the small boy.
“You clean.”
He winks at him when he’s sure the woman can’t see his face, rewarded by a cheeky grin. Then Yoochun pulls his most obsequious face and turns to the mother to inform her about the dire consequences of kids’ misbehaving in respectable stores and the many advantages of generous tips.
Later that evening, he tells the whole story to Jaejoong. His friend doesn’t listen to a single word, absorbed in reorganizing the shampoo bottles on shelves by color and into a rainbow - from red to orange to yellow then green, blue and purple.
“Isn’t it prettier like this?” he asks, not that Yoochun’s opinion matters to him at all.
“It’ll take me hours to sort them again later.”
“Harmony, Yoochun-ah! Harmony!” Jaejoong ignores him, “people can feel those things.”
“The only thing that woman felt was the bruise on her ass.”
“It’s science, you know. Blue is great for the heart.”
“Maybe she also felt her 20,000 won in my pocket.”
“Pink isn’t bad either, you should keep to it and get rid of those black ones.”
“Men don’t use strawberry shampoos, Jae.”
“I use them.”
“Why couldn’t I fall in love with you instead?”
“But I like peach better.”
Yoochun gives up. He sits down cross-legged on the floor, letting Jaejoong mess with the shampoos as he’s pleased and thinking about what he just said… thinking that Jaejoong doesn’t do tears and too-bright smiles. He doesn’t make Yoochun question stuff about himself. He doesn’t stare in unnerving ways. He doesn’t need logic, reasons, facts, futures, steadiness or answers. Jaejoong merely is, unbound and ungoverned, and that’d suit Yoochun just fine.
Changmin on the other hand…
Yoochun stares down at his hands as he fumbles with the tag of his work jacket.
Changmin’s eyes never quite lose that serious light. Changmin thinks the world is a serious place, with serious people, serious jobs, serious dreams. Changmin thinks Yoochun isn’t serious enough; he also likes him enough to pretend not to care. Maybe Changmin even worries about him, and Yoochun snorts quietly. So young yet so full of himself. So confident.
So inexperienced, in spite of his way of talking like he’s seen and analyzed everything, and made the perfect choices after that.
So infuriatingly sure, but what irks him even more, so often right and spot-on when it comes to Yoochun’s life and problems.
Also lonesome, withdrawn, a tad too negative and quick to criticize, with no tact whatsoever, flaunting pig-head stubbornness and blind resistance to change, hating to be proved wrong and probably insecure about so much beneath it all. Yet that Changmin somehow let him in, and those traits that Yoochun should dislike only draw him in more.
Love is an absurd thing, right.
Absurd in a totally displeasing way, unlike the ‘absurd’ that’s Jaejoong and his rainbow of shampoos, or that woman strutting away with crushed cereals stuck on the behind of her expensive skirt.
Absurd because Changmin is one of those guys labeled ‘100% straight’.
Yoochun can’t even comfort himself here with the illusory hope of a 1% that’ll never come true. And so the most absurd part of it all is that he still wants to indulge in the feeling - just a little longer.
It’s the first time he feels like this. The first time he’s felt like kissing someone not because of pretty lips, too much alcohol or vague affection. It was a gut thing, instinctive, explosive, without rules or reasons. A warm ache. The painful surge of something both strong and tender… soothing, powerful, enveloping and full. Kiss him and draw that line between the two of them and the rest of the world.
Yoochun stares down at his hands, thinking of when he took Changmin’s.
Of holding him in his arms.
The closeness, distress and tears. His own emotions so contradictory and inappropriate, hurt and need; a mayhem of feelings rocked by the sudden awaking of instincts too raw to be called out of line or ill-timed.
He hasn’t seen Changmin since that morning after his father died, and Yoochun’s world is slowing down. The weight of absence grows. The lack of something is pervading his thoughts. Concern pricks his mind, and longing his heart.
Yet Yoochun feels happy. He likes the way warmth unfolds just thinking of Changmin, likes daydreaming scenes and touches that he knows won’t happen, likes the pounding of his normally undisturbed heart. He likes remembering the hands clinging on him, and likes imagining all the ways they could hold him again. His mind sometimes ventures into forbidden lands, of kisses turned passionate where the need to have and cross lines overcomes the sweeter taste of chaste desires. That’s usually when vague guilt arises and brings Yoochun back to the real world.
He knows that the longer he indulges in it, the more it’ll hurt later.
He can’t bring himself to care.
~
Changmin has always liked lines. Not limits. Lines: defining differences, drawing multiple choices, sometimes materializing a barrier and making it easier for him to decide of the best way to cross it. He likes it when matters are neatly exposed. He doesn’t like confusion, innuendoes, blurred zones. He calls a spade a spade.
Many people don’t like this about him, he found as time passed. Changmin learnt not to care too much though it hurts sometimes. He was never one to sugarcoat matters and more often than not, he ended up being blamed when the very unpleasant facts he had been pointing out blew up in others’ faces. He was often told not to be so blunt, at least, but he can’t do so without altering the truth. And truth means a lot to him.
Changmin never lies.
He’s been like this for as far as he can remember. He can still picture his teacher’s astonished face in primary school when he came up to her, looked straight into her eyes, and said he’d stolen a bunch of afternoon snacks to give them to the homeless man that he saw every day on his way to school. She went to see his mother that evening, to talk to her about her son’s “ambiguous morals”.
His teacher also took strong dislike to him from that day on - precisely right after Changmin retorted that no, it was not ‘ambiguous’, he had told her the truth. He still doesn’t know if that dislike stemmed from the fact that he had talked back to her, or that in her book, a 10 years old who could make sense of “ambiguous morals” was burgeoning nuisance and had to be subdued before it was too late. For her part, Changmin’s mother acknowledged that it had been for a good cause, and he got off that time with a stern scolding and two months’ worth of his pocket money.
The same attitude predictably caused him more serious trouble later, notably bringing him a tattletale reputation and a fair share of bullies.
If anything, what he strongly felt as unfairness only made him cling to the truth even more.
Changmin still believes that it’s his strongest point, never mind that Yoochun says it isn’t cute all. He also thinks it makes life much simpler, not having to deal with white lies and people’s susceptible selves. Seeing the world just as it is. No illusions means no deceptions. The people who like him like him for who he really is, and the contrary is also true. He knows who they are, and he accepts it.
It’s not always easy though.
Sometimes Changmin wavers, like on that day… that nightmarish day when after he went to the hospital, after his father practically begged him not to say anything, after hours lost in numbing confusion and hurt, he found back something of himself in Yoochun’s eyes and went home. It took every bit of courage he had but he went to find his mother, and said there was something the whole family needed to talk about. The memory still tears through his heart with renewed anguish whenever he’s reminded about it, and is likely to do so for a very long time.
It was terrible, pushing his own father into a corner. Brutal. But then the truth was out, and Changmin is sure at least that he did the right thing. Although that barely eased the long series of bad news and medical failures that followed. And it certainly didn’t make it easier to watch his father’s slow agony - “he’s fighting back” the doctors said, but Changmin knew better.
It doesn’t lessen the pain at all after his father dies, and a bottomless hole remains for the rest of the family to live with.
Changmin draws another line then - a before, an after.
He clings to a new truth.
A dry, simple one. His sisters aren’t old enough, the last of her mother’s strengths was spent during endless grueling hours of wake, and the truth now is that Changmin somehow has to step up. They aren’t alone; their family is big and supportive, and money isn’t much of a problem. It’s not as hard as it could be, but it’s still a heavy burden to shoulder. The weeks that follow his father’s death pass in a blur with much more downs than ups, but at the end of it, Changmin grabs a scholarship - no more shifting from one course to the other - and decides that it’s time for him to be independent.
His sisters and mother take the news with mild enthusiasm. They congratulate him, of course, but aren’t too happy when Changmin says that he intends to leave home and move out.
Yoochun stares blankly and mutters “it’s great” in an odd voice after a long silence, before he turns away. It sounds like he’s proud but that’s so non-Yoochun-like that Changmin brushes it off.
Junsu suggests they move in together, and Changmin says ‘ok’.
~
“Who is Junsu??”
“We were thinking somewhere halfway between Junsu’s university and mine-”
“Who is Junsu??!”
“And your convenient store is in that area-”
“Changmin!”
“So I thought maybe you could help us find-”
Yoochun throws a pack of extra-protection diapers at him. Changmin dodges too late, shooting him a resentful look as he rubs his shoulder. Serves him right. For someone who claims to be so straightforward, Changmin has been ignoring his questions all too expertly and Yoochun’s patience is wearing thin.
“Now tell me who the hell is Junsu?!” he demands, waving his stapler around threateningly. It’s old, heavy, all sharp edges and unappealing angles, and Changmin takes a step back.
“Why do you care?”
Yoochun stops. He takes a second to wonder if he’s overreacting, before rightful indignation kicks back in and he plunges further into dramatic displays. He did learn a few tricks from Jaejoong after all.
“We’ve told each other everything for five years” he pushes heavily on the ‘five’ to emphasize the magnitude of Changmin’s treason, “and only now I hear about a Junsu that you trust enough to move in together with and don’t say he’s just a random guy from school. I know you Shim Changmin.”
“He’s an acquaintance…” Changmin provides rather unhelpfully, warily eyeing the stapler. “Can you put that thing down?”
“An acquaintance?” Yoochun frowns, lowering his arm. Damn, that thing is heavy. “Since when have you known him?”
“Fifteen years…?”
The stapler flies and crashes into the light bulbs stand. The resulting breaking sound is music to Yoochun’s ears, and he feels a tad better seeing Changmin startle. Again, serves him right. Sneaky bastard.
There is still an hour before his shift ends, but that’s an emergency situation, he tells his coworker as the girl carefully emerges from the pet food aisle. She nods, staring at the fallen rack and knowing better than to argue. They were supposed to discard it next week but a few days won’t make a big difference. It was a nice shot anyway. And it made quite an impression on Changmin, judging by the young man’s wide eyes and telling lack of reaction. Good.
Sneaky, sly, treacherous bastard.
Yoochun is literally fuming. There’s a ‘Junsu’ Changmin never told him about. Some guy he has known for fifteen years. A ‘Junsu’ he never heard of but who has been around since they were in middle school and that Changmin apparently intends to live with now. Great. Fucking great. He’s not overreacting. Just monumentally pissed. Which says a lot since Yoochun is normally as anger-prone as a dead rabbit - that’s what Yoowhan says. Yoowhan can go to hell, he and his rubbish metaphors, and bring fifteen-years-acquaintance-Junsu along, and the dead rabbits with them.
“What are you doing?” Changmin asks worriedly, watching from a safe distance as Yoochun furiously searches his pockets until he finds Veruca’s keys.
“We are going to see that Junsu” Yoochun grabs his wrist and drags him out of the store, “I need to make sure he’s a decent guy.”
“Yoochun…“
“Shut up.”
“But-“
“And while we get there, you can explain me why you call an “acquaintance” someone you’ve known for fifteen years.”
~
Junsu, Yoochun reluctantly has to admit after little more than ten minutes, belongs to that category of infuriating people who are simply impossible to hate.
Dislike, maybe… he ponders while staring resentfully at a grin so wide it must hurt… yeah, he might be able to pull off dislike, if he tries hard enough. If only out of spite because of the way said Junsu’s face brightened in understanding as soon as they arrived earlier - “Yoochun of course! Changmin told me so much about you!”
Just great.
Yoochun glares at Changmin for the umpteenth time in the last hour - with little effect since the younger one has his head stuck inside Junsu’s fridge.
“Don’t you have ice cream somewhere?”
“We’re in the middle of winter, idiot.”
“I know that, idiot.”
Changmin’s head reappears and he throws Junsu a look. He’s pouting, Yoochun realizes, mildly horrified. Changmin doesn’t pout with him. Never.
“Hyung…”
“In the freezer, on the right.”
Changmin never called him ‘hyung’ either.
Yoochun’s mood drops several levels more. He throws glares left and right for a couple minutes longer, observes it’s still useless, then decides to stare out the window until someone deigns paying attention to him.
Outside, unfortunately, is not so heartening. There is Junsu’s university campus, concrete buildings and muddy lawns. The sky is dark and grey. It’s evening. Cold. Depressing. Will probably rain soon, the icy winter rain he hates and of course he forgot his coat at the convenient store. Someone will surely steal it by the time he goes back - if he can go back, that is, Veruca surely won’t cooperate since the whole world is against him as usual and-
“Stop sulking Yoochun.”
“Am not sulking.”
“Sure you’re not.”
Changmin appears in front of him, chocolate ice cream in hand, and - much to Yoochun’s annoyance - looking slightly amused. Much to Yoochun’s annoyance, Changmin is also on the gorgeous side today (again). At least that’s what his pounding heart obstinately proclaims, and Yoochun soon forgets about being annoyed and takes to staring instead.
He still wonders how he could have been so blind during the months he spent with him, and is energetically trying to make up for it. He’s been staring an awful lot recently. It’s not helping much with his newfound obsession, and rose a host of tiny reasons for him to love Changmin more.
The way he always looks people in the eye when he speaks. His eyes of course - Yoochun loves his eyes, though he is well aware that they are a nice but all-in-all plain brown. The more he looks at them, the less ordinary they seem. Changmin’s hair started growing again after the last time he cut it and now it’s framing his face nicely, a few short bangs falling on his forehead that Yoochun’s fingers are aching to touch. Not to mention Changmin’s comfy sweater that looks warm, soft and a clear invitation to hug. Yoochun sort of wants to bury his face in it and breathe in his scent like they do in movies.
At least Changmin didn’t do that cliché thing of ice cream at the corner of his lips, he inwardly sighs in relief. He isn’t sure he’d be able to take that.
“Yoochun?”
He averts his eyes because of Changmin’s too close face and lips. His gaze finds Junsu instead. He traces the guy’s body up and down, and thinks that that ass might become the first (and only) reason why he’s glad about Changmin’s ‘100% not gay’ label.
“So you want to move out?” Yoochun asks aloud to distract himself from that unpleasant trail of thought.
“Mmh” Junsu nods, “I’ve been living here the past year but it was supposed to be temporary.”
Yoochun looks around at the khaki paint on the walls, the decayed part of the ceiling just above the desk, the poor excuse for a lock at the door and the open closet that looks the size of a small suitcase.
“I can understand why.”
“And the guy who lives in the room next door isn’t here” Changmin flops on the bed, carefully taking a bit of his ice cream between his teeth, “you don’t know the worst of it.”
“Bastard makes sure the whole campus knows he’s sexually active” Junsu grumbles, which doesn’t sit well with Yoochun’s messed up brain and somehow sounds very wrong when he’s trying his hardest not to stare at Changmin’s pink tongue abusing his ice cream.
“Mmhh” he hums noncommittally, focusing on Junsu again with an effort, “so you two have known each other for a long time?”
“Fifteen years.”
So he did hear that right.
“Why have I never heard about you before?”
If it’s rude then Junsu doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles and cocks his head to the side knowingly, like waiting for something to happen.
“I told you he’s just an acquaintance” Changmin whines, and Yoochun knows just seeing Junsu’s expression that it’s not the first time he hears that.
“That’s what he says” the guy comments.
“And what do you say?” Yoochun asks curiously, looking back and forth between the two.
“That he’s my friend.”
Changmin snorts and Junsu’s grin widens.
“I don’t get it” Yoochun frowns.
“What don’t you get?”
“Am I not your friend either?” Yoochun probes cautiously, trying to hide how much the answer matters to him.
“Of course you’re my friend” Changmin shrugs, “that’s just not the same.”
Junsu shakes his head somewhat fondly, and Yoochun decides it’s better not to probe. He knows by now that Changmin’s logic, though infallible, belongs to Changmin only and sometimes works in ways that mere mortals shouldn’t try to comprehend.
“If you say so…” he says in a low voice, mostly to himself and feeling troubled.
He then notices that Junsu is staring at him a bit strangely. It increases his uneasiness so he looks away, and of course his eyes just have to stop on the dark brown chocolate spot at the corner of Changmin’s mouth. Yoochun swallows hard and decides it’s safer to look down at his feet instead since the world is indeed against him today.
A nagging voice inside his head comes to life that evening, juggling with ‘friend’, ‘acquaintance’ and ‘love’, and Yoochun’s heart tightens as he wonders for the first time what exactly he means to Changmin, and if it could be less than he thought.
~
The first time Changmin notices her he’s at the university cafeteria, trying to decide between the safe option of ramyeon and the Western style dish of the day, which looks promising enough but he already had nasty surprises.
“Excuse me…”
He turns around and spots a girl about his age in the line behind him.
“Do you mind if I go first?” she asks politely, showing her nearly full trail, “I’ve a class just…”
Her voice trails off just as Changmin realizes it sounds familiar. He frowns, staring openly, and is still trying to place it when her eyes widen in recognition.
“Oh it’s you!”
She does that thing with her mouth that Changmin had unconsciously noticed before, though the circumstances made it hard to really pay attention. Like she wants to smile but for some reason holds it back, her lips thinning instead, and it’s her eyes that end up smiling for her. Deep, soft eyes. Gentle too, and now he remembers that among all the people they met during those chaotic months, she was one of the few who looked like they still remembered how to care.
“You… at the hospital?” he probes, getting a vigorous nod in answer. Her hair move about her face, dark and heavy, and he unconsciously stores the image in his memories.
“I volunteered there last summer” she says, hesitating a short moment before she speaks again, “…Changmin right?”
He nods and she blushes slightly, a little embarrassed.
“I’m sorry I only remember your first name” she adds, stepping aside as the students in the line behind her are getting impatient, “they kept telling me to pay more attention but I always forgot…”
“It’s okay” Changmin shrugs, looking at her with renewed interest, “I don’t even remember yours.”
A small voice in his head warns him that he’s doing it again. Too blunt. He’s about to apologize but already she’s shaking her head, now looking a bit sad.
“It’s normal, you had other matters on your mind.”
Changmin doesn’t like being reminded of his father’s death. Above all, he doesn’t like it when people pretend to sympathize when they have no idea how it felt. But somehow he knows she understands, even if only a little. She isn’t fake, unlike so many others. It’s nice. Refreshing. Attractive.
He finds himself smiling at her without really knowing why. She starts smiling too and again, stops halfway, and Changmin feels curious about someone for the first time in a very long while.
“Well, see you later I hope” she says as the silence becomes a little awkward and turns away, her figure soon disappearing amidst dozens of similar ones in the crowded cafeteria.
Changmin's eyes follow her for as long as he can. Again, he doesn't really know why.
Part 5.
Note: updating one day earlier cos I won't be online this week-end~ Aaaaand finally a tiny, tiny look into Changmin's POV :) Please don't hate me for letting this take the road of painful unrequited love though, I swear it's not all so bad as it looks (well, it's going to stay bad for a while)...
Also, please don't look too much into Changmin's "oddities" like this friend/acquaintance thing. There will be some answers later about his personality/past, but it will remain mostly as hints here and there. Feel free to build your own image of their characters as the story unfolds ^^
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it~
Pairings: YooMin
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Fluff, slight Angst
Summary:
There is only one truth, Changmin believes, and only one question - is it the one you want?
There is only chance, Yoochun thinks - the meteor crashes, or it doesn’t. And if it does the only question is, will you run fast enough or let the stars collide?
Part 4. Of love, friends and acquaintances
Love, Yoochun promptly decided, is an extremely absurd feeling.
Yoochun knows about desire. He knows about affection, attachments, break ups, dead ends, the little something in a smile that speaks of a door waiting to be pushed open, and the first signs indicating an end just around the corner. All those have rules, tricky and sometimes cruel, but rules that Yoochun flatters himself with thinking he knows well - it’s a game he can play.
Love however, he muses while gazing at the kid conscientiously emptying a pack of cereals on the floor in front of his counter in the convenient store… love doesn’t have rules. Love will play dirty.
Take for instance the beyond ridiculous way he felt once the unwelcome realization crashed on him more than two weeks ago. “Love” barely crossed his mind and there Yoochun had felt like he kinda really would like to maybe kiss Changmin. Who was sitting on his couch like the epitome of gloom, with red eyes and a snotty nose. As if just thinking “love” could make one want to kiss people.
Crying people.
As far as Yoochun is concerned, nothing can kill off kissing inclinations faster than a tear-stricken face. If only because it’s gross.
Changmin didn’t look gross though.
Changmin looked very sad and tired, he had just attempted a much pitiful smile, he seemed younger than his age for a change, and his eyes kept silently asking for help. All in all, he was very un-Changmin. It was upsetting, but definitely not gross.
Yoochun’s frown deepens. The kid in front of him starts stomping on the spilled cereals, delighted by the various sounds he’s producing. Yoochun vaguely thinks of stopping him but children’s creativity shouldn’t be hindered, and he’s curious to see the look on his mother’s face when she’ll finally notice.
He wonders what’d be the look on Changmin’s face if he kissed him.
How his mouth would feel.
How the kiss would taste.
Yoochun easily imagines it - dry lips, unsure at first but for him they’d part, revealing both sweetness and spice, a tinge of want, the tang of need… a last moment of hesitation - ‘are you sure?’ - then the rush of electricity coursing through both their bodies, the need to get closer and breathe the same air, share the same heat, feel the same beat because inside their hearts would be racing against one another and then breaking the kiss, a suspended silence and an exchanged look - fire, relief, searching - a breathless sigh before-
“What are you doing??!!!”
Yoochun nearly falls from his chair.
He sits up straight and swiftly pulls the appropriate bored-and-sulky casher boy’s expression as a woman appears in his field of vision, running on heels that are five centimeters too high for the slippery tiled floor, the three bags in her hands and the demon child staring at her like a general in the process of evaluating the enemy forces. The mother screams again and Yoochun inwardly cheers for him as the kid turns around and runs in the opposite direction. None of the customers around makes a move to stop him.
All eyes are on her when the woman stumbles, flails her arms around in a vain attempt to find balance back, and falls much inelegantly on her bottom in the middle of the spilled cereals. Pity then prompts Yoochun to move from behind his counter.
“Could someone please bring that child back?” he says loudly before kneeling next to her, flashing his brightest smile at her crestfallen face. “Are you hurt somewhere?”
He smiles even more widely when he notices that she’s on the verge of tears. Changmin’s breakdown exhausted his resources of compassion for a full year at least, and it was Changmin. If this one decides to cry, Yoochun will give her toilet paper and leave.
“Can you stand?” he asks again, giving her a hand as she nods pitifully. She gets back to her feet with his help, wobbling unsteadily on her heels as Yoochun leads her out of the cereals-minefield.
A customer shows up a minute later dragging the unrepentant culprit by the hand. The woman turns bright red, about to scream her lungs out in an attempt to turn shame into rightful anger. Something about the kid’s sullen face tells Yoochun she’ll only embarrass herself further.
“Thank you!” he intervenes, bowing to the helpful customer.
“No problem” the guy walks away, followed by other customers now that the show is over.
Yoochun reads indecision on the woman’s face, torn between admonishing her son to her heart’s content and running out of here not to ever come back. He shrugs and walks to his counter, grabs a broom and gives it to the small boy.
“You clean.”
He winks at him when he’s sure the woman can’t see his face, rewarded by a cheeky grin. Then Yoochun pulls his most obsequious face and turns to the mother to inform her about the dire consequences of kids’ misbehaving in respectable stores and the many advantages of generous tips.
Later that evening, he tells the whole story to Jaejoong. His friend doesn’t listen to a single word, absorbed in reorganizing the shampoo bottles on shelves by color and into a rainbow - from red to orange to yellow then green, blue and purple.
“Isn’t it prettier like this?” he asks, not that Yoochun’s opinion matters to him at all.
“It’ll take me hours to sort them again later.”
“Harmony, Yoochun-ah! Harmony!” Jaejoong ignores him, “people can feel those things.”
“The only thing that woman felt was the bruise on her ass.”
“It’s science, you know. Blue is great for the heart.”
“Maybe she also felt her 20,000 won in my pocket.”
“Pink isn’t bad either, you should keep to it and get rid of those black ones.”
“Men don’t use strawberry shampoos, Jae.”
“I use them.”
“Why couldn’t I fall in love with you instead?”
“But I like peach better.”
Yoochun gives up. He sits down cross-legged on the floor, letting Jaejoong mess with the shampoos as he’s pleased and thinking about what he just said… thinking that Jaejoong doesn’t do tears and too-bright smiles. He doesn’t make Yoochun question stuff about himself. He doesn’t stare in unnerving ways. He doesn’t need logic, reasons, facts, futures, steadiness or answers. Jaejoong merely is, unbound and ungoverned, and that’d suit Yoochun just fine.
Changmin on the other hand…
Yoochun stares down at his hands as he fumbles with the tag of his work jacket.
Changmin’s eyes never quite lose that serious light. Changmin thinks the world is a serious place, with serious people, serious jobs, serious dreams. Changmin thinks Yoochun isn’t serious enough; he also likes him enough to pretend not to care. Maybe Changmin even worries about him, and Yoochun snorts quietly. So young yet so full of himself. So confident.
So inexperienced, in spite of his way of talking like he’s seen and analyzed everything, and made the perfect choices after that.
So infuriatingly sure, but what irks him even more, so often right and spot-on when it comes to Yoochun’s life and problems.
Also lonesome, withdrawn, a tad too negative and quick to criticize, with no tact whatsoever, flaunting pig-head stubbornness and blind resistance to change, hating to be proved wrong and probably insecure about so much beneath it all. Yet that Changmin somehow let him in, and those traits that Yoochun should dislike only draw him in more.
Love is an absurd thing, right.
Absurd in a totally displeasing way, unlike the ‘absurd’ that’s Jaejoong and his rainbow of shampoos, or that woman strutting away with crushed cereals stuck on the behind of her expensive skirt.
Absurd because Changmin is one of those guys labeled ‘100% straight’.
Yoochun can’t even comfort himself here with the illusory hope of a 1% that’ll never come true. And so the most absurd part of it all is that he still wants to indulge in the feeling - just a little longer.
It’s the first time he feels like this. The first time he’s felt like kissing someone not because of pretty lips, too much alcohol or vague affection. It was a gut thing, instinctive, explosive, without rules or reasons. A warm ache. The painful surge of something both strong and tender… soothing, powerful, enveloping and full. Kiss him and draw that line between the two of them and the rest of the world.
Yoochun stares down at his hands, thinking of when he took Changmin’s.
Of holding him in his arms.
The closeness, distress and tears. His own emotions so contradictory and inappropriate, hurt and need; a mayhem of feelings rocked by the sudden awaking of instincts too raw to be called out of line or ill-timed.
He hasn’t seen Changmin since that morning after his father died, and Yoochun’s world is slowing down. The weight of absence grows. The lack of something is pervading his thoughts. Concern pricks his mind, and longing his heart.
Yet Yoochun feels happy. He likes the way warmth unfolds just thinking of Changmin, likes daydreaming scenes and touches that he knows won’t happen, likes the pounding of his normally undisturbed heart. He likes remembering the hands clinging on him, and likes imagining all the ways they could hold him again. His mind sometimes ventures into forbidden lands, of kisses turned passionate where the need to have and cross lines overcomes the sweeter taste of chaste desires. That’s usually when vague guilt arises and brings Yoochun back to the real world.
He knows that the longer he indulges in it, the more it’ll hurt later.
He can’t bring himself to care.
~
Changmin has always liked lines. Not limits. Lines: defining differences, drawing multiple choices, sometimes materializing a barrier and making it easier for him to decide of the best way to cross it. He likes it when matters are neatly exposed. He doesn’t like confusion, innuendoes, blurred zones. He calls a spade a spade.
Many people don’t like this about him, he found as time passed. Changmin learnt not to care too much though it hurts sometimes. He was never one to sugarcoat matters and more often than not, he ended up being blamed when the very unpleasant facts he had been pointing out blew up in others’ faces. He was often told not to be so blunt, at least, but he can’t do so without altering the truth. And truth means a lot to him.
Changmin never lies.
He’s been like this for as far as he can remember. He can still picture his teacher’s astonished face in primary school when he came up to her, looked straight into her eyes, and said he’d stolen a bunch of afternoon snacks to give them to the homeless man that he saw every day on his way to school. She went to see his mother that evening, to talk to her about her son’s “ambiguous morals”.
His teacher also took strong dislike to him from that day on - precisely right after Changmin retorted that no, it was not ‘ambiguous’, he had told her the truth. He still doesn’t know if that dislike stemmed from the fact that he had talked back to her, or that in her book, a 10 years old who could make sense of “ambiguous morals” was burgeoning nuisance and had to be subdued before it was too late. For her part, Changmin’s mother acknowledged that it had been for a good cause, and he got off that time with a stern scolding and two months’ worth of his pocket money.
The same attitude predictably caused him more serious trouble later, notably bringing him a tattletale reputation and a fair share of bullies.
If anything, what he strongly felt as unfairness only made him cling to the truth even more.
Changmin still believes that it’s his strongest point, never mind that Yoochun says it isn’t cute all. He also thinks it makes life much simpler, not having to deal with white lies and people’s susceptible selves. Seeing the world just as it is. No illusions means no deceptions. The people who like him like him for who he really is, and the contrary is also true. He knows who they are, and he accepts it.
It’s not always easy though.
Sometimes Changmin wavers, like on that day… that nightmarish day when after he went to the hospital, after his father practically begged him not to say anything, after hours lost in numbing confusion and hurt, he found back something of himself in Yoochun’s eyes and went home. It took every bit of courage he had but he went to find his mother, and said there was something the whole family needed to talk about. The memory still tears through his heart with renewed anguish whenever he’s reminded about it, and is likely to do so for a very long time.
It was terrible, pushing his own father into a corner. Brutal. But then the truth was out, and Changmin is sure at least that he did the right thing. Although that barely eased the long series of bad news and medical failures that followed. And it certainly didn’t make it easier to watch his father’s slow agony - “he’s fighting back” the doctors said, but Changmin knew better.
It doesn’t lessen the pain at all after his father dies, and a bottomless hole remains for the rest of the family to live with.
Changmin draws another line then - a before, an after.
He clings to a new truth.
A dry, simple one. His sisters aren’t old enough, the last of her mother’s strengths was spent during endless grueling hours of wake, and the truth now is that Changmin somehow has to step up. They aren’t alone; their family is big and supportive, and money isn’t much of a problem. It’s not as hard as it could be, but it’s still a heavy burden to shoulder. The weeks that follow his father’s death pass in a blur with much more downs than ups, but at the end of it, Changmin grabs a scholarship - no more shifting from one course to the other - and decides that it’s time for him to be independent.
His sisters and mother take the news with mild enthusiasm. They congratulate him, of course, but aren’t too happy when Changmin says that he intends to leave home and move out.
Yoochun stares blankly and mutters “it’s great” in an odd voice after a long silence, before he turns away. It sounds like he’s proud but that’s so non-Yoochun-like that Changmin brushes it off.
Junsu suggests they move in together, and Changmin says ‘ok’.
~
“Who is Junsu??”
“We were thinking somewhere halfway between Junsu’s university and mine-”
“Who is Junsu??!”
“And your convenient store is in that area-”
“Changmin!”
“So I thought maybe you could help us find-”
Yoochun throws a pack of extra-protection diapers at him. Changmin dodges too late, shooting him a resentful look as he rubs his shoulder. Serves him right. For someone who claims to be so straightforward, Changmin has been ignoring his questions all too expertly and Yoochun’s patience is wearing thin.
“Now tell me who the hell is Junsu?!” he demands, waving his stapler around threateningly. It’s old, heavy, all sharp edges and unappealing angles, and Changmin takes a step back.
“Why do you care?”
Yoochun stops. He takes a second to wonder if he’s overreacting, before rightful indignation kicks back in and he plunges further into dramatic displays. He did learn a few tricks from Jaejoong after all.
“We’ve told each other everything for five years” he pushes heavily on the ‘five’ to emphasize the magnitude of Changmin’s treason, “and only now I hear about a Junsu that you trust enough to move in together with and don’t say he’s just a random guy from school. I know you Shim Changmin.”
“He’s an acquaintance…” Changmin provides rather unhelpfully, warily eyeing the stapler. “Can you put that thing down?”
“An acquaintance?” Yoochun frowns, lowering his arm. Damn, that thing is heavy. “Since when have you known him?”
“Fifteen years…?”
The stapler flies and crashes into the light bulbs stand. The resulting breaking sound is music to Yoochun’s ears, and he feels a tad better seeing Changmin startle. Again, serves him right. Sneaky bastard.
There is still an hour before his shift ends, but that’s an emergency situation, he tells his coworker as the girl carefully emerges from the pet food aisle. She nods, staring at the fallen rack and knowing better than to argue. They were supposed to discard it next week but a few days won’t make a big difference. It was a nice shot anyway. And it made quite an impression on Changmin, judging by the young man’s wide eyes and telling lack of reaction. Good.
Sneaky, sly, treacherous bastard.
Yoochun is literally fuming. There’s a ‘Junsu’ Changmin never told him about. Some guy he has known for fifteen years. A ‘Junsu’ he never heard of but who has been around since they were in middle school and that Changmin apparently intends to live with now. Great. Fucking great. He’s not overreacting. Just monumentally pissed. Which says a lot since Yoochun is normally as anger-prone as a dead rabbit - that’s what Yoowhan says. Yoowhan can go to hell, he and his rubbish metaphors, and bring fifteen-years-acquaintance-Junsu along, and the dead rabbits with them.
“What are you doing?” Changmin asks worriedly, watching from a safe distance as Yoochun furiously searches his pockets until he finds Veruca’s keys.
“We are going to see that Junsu” Yoochun grabs his wrist and drags him out of the store, “I need to make sure he’s a decent guy.”
“Yoochun…“
“Shut up.”
“But-“
“And while we get there, you can explain me why you call an “acquaintance” someone you’ve known for fifteen years.”
~
Junsu, Yoochun reluctantly has to admit after little more than ten minutes, belongs to that category of infuriating people who are simply impossible to hate.
Dislike, maybe… he ponders while staring resentfully at a grin so wide it must hurt… yeah, he might be able to pull off dislike, if he tries hard enough. If only out of spite because of the way said Junsu’s face brightened in understanding as soon as they arrived earlier - “Yoochun of course! Changmin told me so much about you!”
Just great.
Yoochun glares at Changmin for the umpteenth time in the last hour - with little effect since the younger one has his head stuck inside Junsu’s fridge.
“Don’t you have ice cream somewhere?”
“We’re in the middle of winter, idiot.”
“I know that, idiot.”
Changmin’s head reappears and he throws Junsu a look. He’s pouting, Yoochun realizes, mildly horrified. Changmin doesn’t pout with him. Never.
“Hyung…”
“In the freezer, on the right.”
Changmin never called him ‘hyung’ either.
Yoochun’s mood drops several levels more. He throws glares left and right for a couple minutes longer, observes it’s still useless, then decides to stare out the window until someone deigns paying attention to him.
Outside, unfortunately, is not so heartening. There is Junsu’s university campus, concrete buildings and muddy lawns. The sky is dark and grey. It’s evening. Cold. Depressing. Will probably rain soon, the icy winter rain he hates and of course he forgot his coat at the convenient store. Someone will surely steal it by the time he goes back - if he can go back, that is, Veruca surely won’t cooperate since the whole world is against him as usual and-
“Stop sulking Yoochun.”
“Am not sulking.”
“Sure you’re not.”
Changmin appears in front of him, chocolate ice cream in hand, and - much to Yoochun’s annoyance - looking slightly amused. Much to Yoochun’s annoyance, Changmin is also on the gorgeous side today (again). At least that’s what his pounding heart obstinately proclaims, and Yoochun soon forgets about being annoyed and takes to staring instead.
He still wonders how he could have been so blind during the months he spent with him, and is energetically trying to make up for it. He’s been staring an awful lot recently. It’s not helping much with his newfound obsession, and rose a host of tiny reasons for him to love Changmin more.
The way he always looks people in the eye when he speaks. His eyes of course - Yoochun loves his eyes, though he is well aware that they are a nice but all-in-all plain brown. The more he looks at them, the less ordinary they seem. Changmin’s hair started growing again after the last time he cut it and now it’s framing his face nicely, a few short bangs falling on his forehead that Yoochun’s fingers are aching to touch. Not to mention Changmin’s comfy sweater that looks warm, soft and a clear invitation to hug. Yoochun sort of wants to bury his face in it and breathe in his scent like they do in movies.
At least Changmin didn’t do that cliché thing of ice cream at the corner of his lips, he inwardly sighs in relief. He isn’t sure he’d be able to take that.
“Yoochun?”
He averts his eyes because of Changmin’s too close face and lips. His gaze finds Junsu instead. He traces the guy’s body up and down, and thinks that that ass might become the first (and only) reason why he’s glad about Changmin’s ‘100% not gay’ label.
“So you want to move out?” Yoochun asks aloud to distract himself from that unpleasant trail of thought.
“Mmh” Junsu nods, “I’ve been living here the past year but it was supposed to be temporary.”
Yoochun looks around at the khaki paint on the walls, the decayed part of the ceiling just above the desk, the poor excuse for a lock at the door and the open closet that looks the size of a small suitcase.
“I can understand why.”
“And the guy who lives in the room next door isn’t here” Changmin flops on the bed, carefully taking a bit of his ice cream between his teeth, “you don’t know the worst of it.”
“Bastard makes sure the whole campus knows he’s sexually active” Junsu grumbles, which doesn’t sit well with Yoochun’s messed up brain and somehow sounds very wrong when he’s trying his hardest not to stare at Changmin’s pink tongue abusing his ice cream.
“Mmhh” he hums noncommittally, focusing on Junsu again with an effort, “so you two have known each other for a long time?”
“Fifteen years.”
So he did hear that right.
“Why have I never heard about you before?”
If it’s rude then Junsu doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles and cocks his head to the side knowingly, like waiting for something to happen.
“I told you he’s just an acquaintance” Changmin whines, and Yoochun knows just seeing Junsu’s expression that it’s not the first time he hears that.
“That’s what he says” the guy comments.
“And what do you say?” Yoochun asks curiously, looking back and forth between the two.
“That he’s my friend.”
Changmin snorts and Junsu’s grin widens.
“I don’t get it” Yoochun frowns.
“What don’t you get?”
“Am I not your friend either?” Yoochun probes cautiously, trying to hide how much the answer matters to him.
“Of course you’re my friend” Changmin shrugs, “that’s just not the same.”
Junsu shakes his head somewhat fondly, and Yoochun decides it’s better not to probe. He knows by now that Changmin’s logic, though infallible, belongs to Changmin only and sometimes works in ways that mere mortals shouldn’t try to comprehend.
“If you say so…” he says in a low voice, mostly to himself and feeling troubled.
He then notices that Junsu is staring at him a bit strangely. It increases his uneasiness so he looks away, and of course his eyes just have to stop on the dark brown chocolate spot at the corner of Changmin’s mouth. Yoochun swallows hard and decides it’s safer to look down at his feet instead since the world is indeed against him today.
A nagging voice inside his head comes to life that evening, juggling with ‘friend’, ‘acquaintance’ and ‘love’, and Yoochun’s heart tightens as he wonders for the first time what exactly he means to Changmin, and if it could be less than he thought.
~
The first time Changmin notices her he’s at the university cafeteria, trying to decide between the safe option of ramyeon and the Western style dish of the day, which looks promising enough but he already had nasty surprises.
“Excuse me…”
He turns around and spots a girl about his age in the line behind him.
“Do you mind if I go first?” she asks politely, showing her nearly full trail, “I’ve a class just…”
Her voice trails off just as Changmin realizes it sounds familiar. He frowns, staring openly, and is still trying to place it when her eyes widen in recognition.
“Oh it’s you!”
She does that thing with her mouth that Changmin had unconsciously noticed before, though the circumstances made it hard to really pay attention. Like she wants to smile but for some reason holds it back, her lips thinning instead, and it’s her eyes that end up smiling for her. Deep, soft eyes. Gentle too, and now he remembers that among all the people they met during those chaotic months, she was one of the few who looked like they still remembered how to care.
“You… at the hospital?” he probes, getting a vigorous nod in answer. Her hair move about her face, dark and heavy, and he unconsciously stores the image in his memories.
“I volunteered there last summer” she says, hesitating a short moment before she speaks again, “…Changmin right?”
He nods and she blushes slightly, a little embarrassed.
“I’m sorry I only remember your first name” she adds, stepping aside as the students in the line behind her are getting impatient, “they kept telling me to pay more attention but I always forgot…”
“It’s okay” Changmin shrugs, looking at her with renewed interest, “I don’t even remember yours.”
A small voice in his head warns him that he’s doing it again. Too blunt. He’s about to apologize but already she’s shaking her head, now looking a bit sad.
“It’s normal, you had other matters on your mind.”
Changmin doesn’t like being reminded of his father’s death. Above all, he doesn’t like it when people pretend to sympathize when they have no idea how it felt. But somehow he knows she understands, even if only a little. She isn’t fake, unlike so many others. It’s nice. Refreshing. Attractive.
He finds himself smiling at her without really knowing why. She starts smiling too and again, stops halfway, and Changmin feels curious about someone for the first time in a very long while.
“Well, see you later I hope” she says as the silence becomes a little awkward and turns away, her figure soon disappearing amidst dozens of similar ones in the crowded cafeteria.
Changmin's eyes follow her for as long as he can. Again, he doesn't really know why.
Part 5.
Note: updating one day earlier cos I won't be online this week-end~ Aaaaand finally a tiny, tiny look into Changmin's POV :) Please don't hate me for letting this take the road of painful unrequited love though, I swear it's not all so bad as it looks (well, it's going to stay bad for a while)...
Also, please don't look too much into Changmin's "oddities" like this friend/acquaintance thing. There will be some answers later about his personality/past, but it will remain mostly as hints here and there. Feel free to build your own image of their characters as the story unfolds ^^
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it~