Title: Missed The Last Train
Pairing: YooSu ♥
Rating: PG-13
Genre: fluff, romance, some angst/drama
Type: Chaptered
Synopsis: "Journeys end in lovers meeting," -- so Shakespeare says. But sometimes, lovers meet when they fail to get on the right trip.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBSK - although I damn wish I did (^^). This story is entirely fictional.
A/N: This one's for![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
keight_michelle (because once upon a time, I said I'd make her something YooSu~ XD ♥) and telumendil (because she's my awesome beta and cheerleader! *luffs very much* ♥ ^o^). The story's loosely based on the song 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved' by The Script. I love that song~ ^___^
Past Chapters:
Part 1 | Part 2
________________________________________
The two took the ten-minute bus ride to a secluded uptown subdivision where Yoochun lived. They had agreed to make a quick stopover to leave their things and so Junsu could change into something... a little less corporate.
Junsu’s rented apartment was actually much closer to the train station, but he decided to keep that bit of information to himself when the other man raised the offer. Yoochun had mentioned earlier that he lived alone; that piqued Junsu’s interest even more. Right away he had expected to find a simple bachelor’s pad. Clearly, he had underestimated his new friend.
Junsu could barely keep his mouth closed the moment they found themselves standing in front of tall black and gold gates. For someone who bummed around at a train station day after day, his house was huge.
Yoochun keyed in the security code, then unhooked the other tricky locks on the entrance. Junsu stood behind him in awe. Somehow, he was having a bit of a hard time placing this simple, low-key man in this sort of environment.
As he was led inside, he noticed little details that surprisingly appealed to him—patterns on moldings, lamps, tiles, basic furnishings. Besides his brother, Junsu didn’t know anyone who had tastes very similar to his. It made him inexplicably giddy.
Yoochun asked him to take a seat anywhere he felt comfortable before running to the top of the staircase.
Junsu didn’t get to ask but from the looks of it the house probably had three big bedrooms, at the very least. The living room alone was spacious. It could probably fit a dozen people without getting too crowded. The interior was simple and organized; furniture and gadgets were avant-garde and tasteful.
Abstract paintings hung on walls while countless CDs and DVDs filled several shelves that housed the grand entertainment system. He spotted some random books there, too. The living room was a pretty safe place to take any guest, Junsu reckoned. There were no photographs... nothing that gave much away. All he could pick up from his surroundings was that Yoochun had an eye for art and a passion for music.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine how lonely it must be to live in such a place all alone.
Yoochun interrupted his musings, walking in long strides back into the lounge with a set of clothes in his hands. He pointed Junsu to the direction of the bathroom when his adorable guest started to fidget, looking utterly unsure—perhaps a bit too shy to ask outright. Three minutes later, Junsu was finally garbed in a regular outfit—and looked pretty darn good in it, too. Yoochun had to try not to stare too much.
The shorter man tugged at the front of the denim jacket he wore over an orange v-neck sweatshirt before his fingers slipped into the pockets of his jeans. Junsu marveled at how perfectly Yoochun’s clothes fitted him—the pants, most especially. He’d always been more... fleshy at the rear than the average guy. In fact, he almost refused straight out when Yoochun offered to lend him something more casual to wear simply because his butt might not fit into the slightly lankier man’s jeans.
“You look good.” Yoochun remarked with an appreciative smile—one that widened a fraction when the other man’s cheeks took on a pinkish shade.
“Uhh... thanks. And thanks for letting me borrow these.”
Yoochun only responded with a nod of his head and a pretty grin. Three more minutes later, after Yoochun had taken off his beanie (Junsu tried not to gawk at how effortlessly gorgeous he truly looked with that long-ish black hair gathered in a haphazard ponytail) to replace it with a navy blue baseball cap, they headed off to Yoochun’s garage and hopped into his car—a blindingly sparkly scarlet Porsche.
Junsu concluded then that he had underestimated this man very much.
“What do you do, Yoochun-sshi?” Junsu asked as they pulled for a stop at the red light. He was very much intrigued now. How could this person be this loaded when he seemed to spend so much time doing nothing?
The man turned to him, eyes alive and glimmering. From where Junsu was sitting perfectly still, Yoochun almost looked like he really was excited about this little spontaneous trip. Maybe he was, but Junsu wasn’t brazen enough to assume that it was because of his company. Perhaps it would work to his advantage if he didn’t expect anything out of this at all.
Yoochun could sense his new friend’s nervous—somewhat rigid—behavior around him. He immediately set his mind on changing that. Yoochun chuckled softly as he turned to the road again, one hand on the wheel. He balled the other into a fist and swung it to the side to hit his companion playfully on the arm. Junsu let out a squeaky yelp, nearly jumping in his seat. Yoochun tried very hard not to laugh, but his efforts were all for naught—
“Yah, why so formal, Junsu-yah?” He remarked in between uncontainable wide-grinned chuckles.
One eyebrow arched, the owner of the name stared at his unbelievably-rich-object-of-hidden-infat
The man in the passenger seat failed to suppress a giggle. Considering how they were still practically strangers to each other, he had been reluctant to omit formality in relating with this particular man. But since he had already called him ‘Junsu-yah’…
“All right, I get it. So what do you do, Yoochun-ah?”
Hearing the casual address tickled a quiet smile out of the man sitting behind the wheel. “I’m a writer-producer. I make songs for certain labels.”
A writer-producer...
“Oh...” Realization flickered in the amused man’s eyes. So the bum wasn’t a bum after all. And that explained why he was always... well, writing.
Junsu’s fingers lightly brushed over the spotless leather interior... the dashboard... even the door. Everything was soft to the touch. He could very well tell that everything cost a fortune, too.
Yoochun had to hide a satisfied smile as he watched him from the corner of his eye. If the shy, somewhat awkward, yet beautiful man was already audacious enough to touch his Porsche then that must mean that the ice had been successfully broken.
“Hey, want some music?” Yoochun willingly surrendered control over the tuner when his friend grinned big and nodded.
It was nice to see how Junsu lit up whenever a song he liked went on. It didn’t hurt at all that they had similar tastes in music either.
It wasn’t very long before they learned the basics about each other. That Junsu worked in a management consulting firm (admittedly a more boring trade compared to Yoochun’s), shared an apartment with a quirky designer-slash-architect named Kim Jaejoong, had a slightly older fraternal twin brother, and liked extra cheese on his pizza.
“Oh! And I’m deathly afraid of those fishies out of water that lie still and pretend to be dead but then suddenly thrash about like crazy when you touch them.” Junsu shuddered at the mental image.
Yoochun looked at him weird, and then burst out laughing.
He was secretly glad that the theme park was a good thirty minutes away.
For once, he was thankful for the slow traffic on the road, too.
----------
Owing to the fact that it was early in the afternoon on a chilly weekday, the place was nearly empty. It took them one minute to find a good parking space. No long queues welcomed them at the entrance either. Both men found it refreshing.
The free day-pass came with a pink bunny-shaped holder attached to a purple strap. All Junsu had to do was to put it around his neck, and suddenly he was twelve again. Yoochun watched in amusement as the shorter man eagerly led the way into the park grounds. There were only a handful of people inside—most likely students who had skipped classes and employees who had ditched work (Junsu was certainly guilty of that).
There was an obvious glow about Junsu as he studied the symbols on the map he was holding. He flipped it once, looked at his surroundings, as though to try to match the images on the broad glossy sheet with the actual thing.
Junsu paused, looking up intently at something that slowly painted a wide grin on his adorably boyish features.
Curious, Yoochun followed his line of vision... and he instantly felt his gut churn.
“That Ferris wheel is huge!”
The guy under the baseball cap gulped, muttered through stilled lips, “It sure is.”
Junsu turned to him and beamed in unabashed excitement. The acrophobe steeled himself for what he knew was coming next—
“Let’s go on it!”
Oh, Lord. Yoochun gave a tight-lipped smile whilst trying not to whimper aloud. He didn’t want to rain on the adorable boy’s parade but he wasn’t so sure if his stomach could make it even halfway through the ride.
Oblivious to his friend’s distress, Junsu turned to that monster of a wheel one more time, nostalgia sparking in his eyes.
“I haven’t been on one since I was... ten, I think.”
It was those words that gradually undid Yoochun’s stiff bearing. His breath hitched, like someone had punched him in the rib hard. The corners of his lips loosened, his gaze falling thoughtfully.
There was a very brief pause.
Junsu heard a deep intake of air... then suddenly there was a hand over his.
Eyes wide in surprise, he looked up at the man beside him. A gentle smile was tugging at Yoochun’s mouth as he spoke,
“Come on.”
Everything was okay—particularly because Yoochun had his fingers tangled with Junsu’s as they stepped inside. Same was the case when they occupied opposite sides of the egg-like gondola. And then, with no warning whatsoever, it started to jerk into movement. Yoochun’s hands quickly flew to hang on to the metal bar along the sides, with a death grip that nearly turned his knuckles white.
Junsu had been concerned from the very start, but Yoochun had assured him that he was okay. The former believed that until they were raised halfway to the top. It was then that the latter began to turn as still and as pale as a mannequin.
“Yoochun-ah—“
“Don’t move!”
Junsu was about to lean closer but suddenly froze, startled, at the other man’s unexpected bark. Yoochun’s unblinking vision was fixed on the ground, his breathing noticeably uneven. Junsu, on the other hand, had his observant eyes trained on the panicky man.
“You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?”
“Huh? N-no. No, I’m n—DON’T MOVE!!”
That was all the answer he needed. Chuckling lightly, Junsu slowly leaned back into his old position, careful not to cause unnecessary tremors to their little egg of a shelter this time.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
He could see the jumpy man in front of him gulp nervously.
“B-because you wanted to go on this—oh, shit!—this thing.”
Oh...
Junsu stilled, blinked.
OH!
And there went that urge to laugh and cry at the same time again. He died a little bit inside. Why did this man have to be so sweet?
He saw Yoochun fearfully shut his eyes tight as gravity decided to be unkind and tip their gondola into a lopsided position for a few seconds. The shrill creaking of steel hinges as they slanted back to normal was certainly not helping either. Junsu wanted so badly to do something—maybe hold his hand again or just do anything to make it better—but he knew shifting would only worsen things at this point.
“How about if I distract you until the ride’s over?”
Yoochun slowly turned his head up and eased his eyes open to look at him. Even the simple motion seemed to be taking a lot from the acrophobe.
“Distract me how?” It came out sounding like a pathetic whimper. Yoochun didn’t even want to think about how much this must be killing his suave image. Little did he know that Junsu found it nothing but adorable.
Junsu’s eyes wandered to his surroundings but he found nothing that gave him any ideas. He was about to feel for anything possibly helpful in his pockets, but then he realized that that would require some moving that could make the gondola wobble again. Yoochun was still looking at him expectantly so he blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind—
“Umm... I’ll ask you questions then you answer?”
Creaks resounded around them again and Yoochun almost looked like he wanted to fold and contract into himself. Besides mentally biting his own head off for bringing all of this on, Junsu knew he had to think of something—and fast.
What would soothe his friend’s nerves best?
Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning—
“What’s his name?”
The man’s tightly sealed eyelids fluttered open in an instant. For a second, worry edged into Junsu’s consciousness. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. But then Yoochun’s shoulders visibly relaxed, all fright falling off of his handsome face. He seemed surprised that Junsu was bringing it up but it didn’t look like he minded at all. Finally, his lips drew a small smile.
Something inside the smaller man sensed a mild sting coming on. He was a glutton for punishment, he reckoned.
“Juntarou.” Came the quiet response.
“That’s...” Junsu paused, tilted his head curiously, tried not laugh—that would be rude, he knew. “... a funny name.”
Yoochun’s smile grew a tad wider, quiet rumbles of laughter escaping his lips.
“It’s a nickname; it’s supposed to be funny. He hates it, though. If anybody else called him that he’d probably kick their ass.”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll remember that.” Junsu muttered and spurred another chuckle from his companion.
“He’s pretty athletic... more of the cute type. You remind me of him a bit.”
Junsu could only nervously laugh a little. Well, he didn’t exactly consider himself very athletic (that description would fit his brother better) so he really had nothing to react to that. But he barely missed the fact that Yoochun just indirectly said he was cute. He could feel his cheeks burning slightly. He absolutely resented it.
Stupid crush!
“Uhm, so anyway...how did you two meet?” He had to get back on track even if it killed him.
Junsu noticed the acrophobic music-maker’s hands slide off of the handles and land on his own lap. He probably didn’t even realize that they were at the peak of the ride now. This was working like magic, much to Junsu’s surprise.
“We missed the last train on New Year’s Eve three years ago. We were the only ones left at the station then. He was supposed to go to his cousin’s house and I was on my way to my mother’s. It wasn’t very long before midnight so we figured we’d just keep each other company.”
Junsu had to pause a while to process that new bit of information. Things were slowly beginning to make a little more sense now. Yoochun had been waiting for his first love at the place where they first met. It was sort of outrageous and dramatic, to be truthful. It was the kind of stuff that happened in sappy, clichéd soap operas, and it certainly should have been a big turn-off. Too bad Junsu was a sucker for theatrics; the crush stayed intact.
“Well, where is he now?”
“I... don’t know.” Yoochun drew in a sharp breath. “Six months ago, one of the company’s major artists made it big internationally so I went out with the staff and everyone else to celebrate. I got drunk. I... I slept with some woman... and he found out about it. I didn’t deny. I tried to explain but he was so angry and so hurt, he couldn’t forgive me. He left me then. I don’t blame him.”
The comfort and ease with which Yoochun was relaying all of this to him was a little startling. Somehow Junsu felt like he was crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed, yet Yoochun was letting him. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
It’s called friendship, Junsu. The little voice in his head starkly pointed out. And he believed it.
“Did you... love that woman?”
“No. God, no.” It was the first time Junsu saw Yoochun become that assertive—emotional, even. “I never loved anyone else. It was just a night of big mistakes. And I’m paying my dues right now.” Yoochun stared down at his hands, his voice growing softer. “He doesn’t give second chances—that’s just how he is. I lost quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m just going to have to live with that.”
Then why won’t you just let go? Why do you keep waiting? Junsu wanted to say but he opted to bite his tongue and keep it in. For some strange reason, he wanted to either cry or punch something hard. Instead, he took a deep breath and clasped his hands together.
“Well, you’re well-off... you seem to be the type of person with plenty of connections. Why don’t you just hire someone to find him?”
“I could, but I don’t think he’d want to see me.”
“Then why do you still wait for him?” The words were out before he could even try to stop them. He could seriously jump off the gondola that very second. His only consolation was that none of the strange, powerful emotions storming in his chest echoed in his tone. Nevertheless, the question got Yoochun staring at him blankly—a mix of surprise and thoughtfulness flickering in his eyes for a quick second.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to answer that.”
To Junsu’s surprise, a quiet laugh slipped past Yoochun’s smiling mouth.
“No, that’s all right, Junsu-yah. You don’t have to apologize.”
Before Junsu could say another word, the door of their little egg clicked and automatically swung open.
The ride was over.
Yoochun heaved a sigh of relief and mumbled something about making love to land. Junsu could feel heat crawling all the way to the back of his ears at the thought of Yoochun making love to anything—or anyone. Fortunately for him, Yoochun was too busy getting on his feet (and loving the fact that he was no higher than three feet in the air) to notice.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” The taller man artlessly took Junsu’s hand into his and led him out of the gondola, completely oblivious to the pounding of the other man’s heart.
Junsu felt like the ride had just begun.
----------
“What are you doing?”
“I’m making a special sauce.”
“Can I be honest?”
“Mhmm.”
“It looks disgusting.”
Yoochun stopped working his little concoction and looked at his non-believing companion in feigned indignation. He tapped his chopsticks against the edge of the small bowl to get rid of the excess mixture and then flung them in the air, pointing at the other man accusingly.
“Yah! Don’t underestimate my super special mandu sauce, Junsu-yah!”
“But who mixes...” Junsu glanced at the variety of spices, oils, condiments, and sauces on their table, his nose scrunched in distaste. “...all of this together?”
The ahjumma who owned the sit-down food stall had given Yoochun a strange look when he asked if they had these things. She didn’t even appear too amenable to the idea of letting them use the seasonings for free—until Yoochun smiled his sweetest and appealed for reconsideration.
“I do!” The pseudo-flavoring-connoisseur exclaimed and went back to stirring his masterpiece with his metal chopsticks. “Besides, I’ve been told several times that this is the most genius thing I’ve ever come up with.”
“Really...?” There was hardly any confidence in Junsu’s tone. Even the smell was a bit uncomfortable to the nostrils.
“Oh, thou of little faith. You’ll like this, trust me. This was his favorite.”
That last statement inadvertently bit off a good chunk of Junsu’s cheery disposition. It was probably his fault, anyway. He was the one who kept bringing ‘him’ up. It was no surprise that Yoochun had grown comfortable with mentioning him so casually. Junsu figured that he should just probably start getting used to it since they still had a bunch of credits to use and a long day ahead of them. Of course he could always bail out before it got out of hand. But the truth was he didn’t really want to.
“Try!” The small bowl of ‘super special mandu sauce à la Yoochun’ was gently steered closer to Junsu.
The consultant’s dubious gaze fell upon the funny-smelling mixture, glided up to Yoochun’s self-assured grin, and then went back to the bowl. A tiny part of him feared for his own life as he picked up a piece of mandu with his chopsticks and dipped half of it in the sauce. Slowly, he brought the dumpling to his mouth.
Yoochun observed Junsu closely as he chewed on the food, but his expression was giving nothing away. All he got was an obscure slant of the head and a noncommittal sound.
“Good?” Yoochun finally asked when the suspense proved too much to bear.
“Mrrmrhhmmrrhhmm.” Was the eloquent response.
“What?”
It took a few seconds before Junsu reacted at all. He gulped down the mandu, addressed Yoochun with wide, resolute eyes, then pointed his chopsticks at the man.
“Don’t talk to me.” That was all Junsu said before dipping another dumpling into the sauce—whole this time—and popping it hungrily into his mouth. Yoochun couldn’t stifle his laughter even if he tried.
They had seven servings of mandu that day.
And Yoochun had to make the sauce three times.
----------
“Twi-light.” Junsu pronounced the English word imprinted on his movie ticket. Yoochun took advantage of his friend’s distracted state. Quickly, he pulled Junsu’s money off of the counter and replaced it with his own bill.
They had had a lengthy squabble before then that essentially went:
“You paid for my Java Chip.”
“But we split the bill for the mandu—”
“That’s not enough to cover the cost of the coffee—plus the cost of your service for making the sauce three times, and the cost of your gasoline.”
“But I didn’t ask you to pay me back—“
“And you went on the Ferris wheel for my sake. You didn’t enjoy that particular ride at all; you could have spent that time on something you actually liked. Do you know the monetary value of every minute of your time?”
“Umm... well...”
The smaller man had triumphantly handed over cash for their popcorn and drinks after that. Yoochun should have known—this was a management consultant in one of the most competent multinational firms in the country he was dealing with. An accounting and finance ace... a formidable persuader, at his best.
Now, he had no idea what Junsu was talking about, but he did know that he wanted to treat his new friend for the whole day. Maybe he could just slip the money back into the man’s pocket later—although he had no idea how he could do that without getting too close for comfort. A glance at his wrist watch as they entered the cinema told him that he still had plenty of time to figure that one out.
“What’s this movie about?”
The question merited Junsu an odd glance.
“Wait a second. I’m the ‘bum at the train station’ and yet I know more about these things than you do? What cave have you been living in?” He teased the cute man, stressing the term Junsu had candidly used to describe him in one of their earlier silly verbal sparring—which pretty much ended with them laughing their butts off when they realized that they had completely lost track of the reason they were having it in the first place.
The smaller man pouted, feigning offense, and tossed a couple of buttered popcorn kernels into his mouth.
“Hobos get around a lot, don’t you know that? And I don’t have as much free time in my hands as you do, so sue me.”
At that, Yoochun smirked, leaned closer to Junsu’s face and whispered in that husky voice— “Then what are you doing here with me?”
Junsu went as still as a corpse, completely forgetting about his respiratory functions. Just then, the lights began to dim. It successfully concealed his flushed face from Yoochun’s sight.
Quite frankly, he was glad he didn’t have to answer that question because he really didn’t have the slightest clue, either.
It was about ten minutes into the movie when Junsu got engrossed in the story. He momentarily got over the fact that Yoochun’s face had been merely inches away from his just a few minutes ago. The love story was nice, but it was the action—the element of danger and bloodletting—that sparked his interest more. He was still a man, after all.
And so when he heard a muffled sniffle from his left when the credits started rolling following a rather ominous end, he was absolutely incredulous.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He said when the lights went back on and he saw the wet trail on Yoochun’s cheeks.
“Shut up. It was touching.” The guilty man muttered, drying his own tears with a flick of his hands.
Junsu simply couldn’t help it—he doubled over, bursting into a fit of laughter. He could see Yoochun’s pout through the tears that began to blur his own vision. He felt kind of bad then and so he tried to speak in between guffaws—
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just... you’re so cute. Come on, let’s go.” He took Yoochun’s hand and pulled him to his feet, missing the slight upward twitch of the corners of the man’s mouth at the ‘cute’ comment. He wrapped an arm around the music-maker in a half-hug to apologize for laughing. He was about to pull away but then Yoochun secured him in place with an arm hooked around his small waist.
“If you think you’re getting away with that so easily, then you’ll have to think again.”
Junsu’s misgivings about those words somehow overpowered the fluttering in his stomach at being in Yoochun’s arms.
He eyed the music-maker warily. “Well, what is it going to cost me then?”
Yoochun grinned—somewhat devious, in Junsu’s opinion.
Unbeknownst to the smaller man, a hand, light as a feather, was subtly slipping a folded bill into one of the pockets of his denim jacket.
“You’ll see.”
----------
The classical music that welcomed them instantly put Junsu in a state of perpetual sleepiness. Faint splashing sounds coming from artificial cascades mingled with the instruments in the background. Perfectly varnished wood lined the halls, warm lights illuminating the spotless white ceiling and smooth alabaster floors. The reception area smelled of calming incense and lavender. It almost seemed like a sacred temple where talking or stepping too loud would have one guillotined.
Junsu had never been to a spa before. Small, cheap, man-made hot springs and saunas, maybe—but never expensive, high-class spas like this one. Yoochun, on the other hand, looked like he knew exactly what to do and where to go. There were very few people that day so it wasn’t difficult at all to accommodate walk-in customers like them. The smaller man simply trailed behind his friend and pretended to know what he was doing.
He shuffled closer to Yoochun, leaning in to ask as softly as possible (he wanted to get out of this place alive, thank you very much), “Yoochun-ah, where are we going?”
“To the changing room.” The man replied before turning in a corner.
Next thing Junsu knew, they were standing in the middle of a purely white room with several frosted glass doors. He wondered for a second if this was heaven.
“Check the key inside your kit. It has your locker number.”
Junsu peeked inside the fancy plastic bag that the receptionist had handed them earlier. There were two towels, a robe, a pair of slippers, a small round soap, and some other necessary toiletries in small bottles. He pulled out the wooden leaf-shaped keychain at the bottom and found out that his locker was just right next to Yoochun’s.
“What are we supposed to change into?” Junsu asked as he stuffed the bag inside the rectangular compartment. He took off his shoes and socks and then stepped into the slippers—actually, he was just mimicking whatever Yoochun was doing.
The taller man removed his cap and jacket to deposit them in the locker. He took out a couple more things before shutting it closed.
“This.” He held up the robe to Junsu’s eye level. “Nothing else underneath. And then we go do Jacuzzi, and then massage.”
Junsu’s legs nearly buckled beneath him.
Jacuzzi? With you? NAKED?
Yoochun tried not to laugh at the adorable man’s wide-eyed expression—not to mention the fact that he just turned so pale he matched the walls quite nicely.
“Don’t worry, Junsu-yah, I’m not going to jump you.” Yoochun quipped with a playful wink.
Without really meaning to, Junsu pouted in slight disappointment.
“You’re not?” He thought aloud absently and instantly clamped both hands over his treacherous mouth when he realized what he’d just said. Lucky for him, Yoochun had disappeared behind one of the doors too quickly for him to catch it.
Inside the cubicle, Yoochun turned the lock and leaned his palms against the frosted glass, squeezing his eyes shut. He breathed in deep and bit on his lower lip hard. He knew he just made a promise he wasn’t exactly one hundred percent sure he could keep.
________________________________________
I meant to post this one earlier but we had to leave the house... mian~>.<
It's almost 2009! 8DDD
I wanted to finish this by New Year's eve but I think I'll have to extend my self-imposed deadline a bit~XD
Here's Susu being scared of fishie (XD):
♥♥♥♥♥ XDDD
Happy New Year guys! ^o^ Be safe! ♥ ^_____^
*smooches everyone* Comments are loved. ♥ ^___^
Pairing: YooSu ♥
Rating: PG-13
Genre: fluff, romance, some angst/drama
Type: Chaptered
Synopsis: "Journeys end in lovers meeting," -- so Shakespeare says. But sometimes, lovers meet when they fail to get on the right trip.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBSK - although I damn wish I did (^^). This story is entirely fictional.
A/N: This one's for
keight_michelle (because once upon a time, I said I'd make her something YooSu~ XD ♥) and telumendil (because she's my awesome beta and cheerleader! *luffs very much* ♥ ^o^). The story's loosely based on the song 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved' by The Script. I love that song~ ^___^Past Chapters:
Part 1 | Part 2
________________________________________
The two took the ten-minute bus ride to a secluded uptown subdivision where Yoochun lived. They had agreed to make a quick stopover to leave their things and so Junsu could change into something... a little less corporate.
Junsu’s rented apartment was actually much closer to the train station, but he decided to keep that bit of information to himself when the other man raised the offer. Yoochun had mentioned earlier that he lived alone; that piqued Junsu’s interest even more. Right away he had expected to find a simple bachelor’s pad. Clearly, he had underestimated his new friend.
Junsu could barely keep his mouth closed the moment they found themselves standing in front of tall black and gold gates. For someone who bummed around at a train station day after day, his house was huge.
Yoochun keyed in the security code, then unhooked the other tricky locks on the entrance. Junsu stood behind him in awe. Somehow, he was having a bit of a hard time placing this simple, low-key man in this sort of environment.
As he was led inside, he noticed little details that surprisingly appealed to him—patterns on moldings, lamps, tiles, basic furnishings. Besides his brother, Junsu didn’t know anyone who had tastes very similar to his. It made him inexplicably giddy.
Yoochun asked him to take a seat anywhere he felt comfortable before running to the top of the staircase.
Junsu didn’t get to ask but from the looks of it the house probably had three big bedrooms, at the very least. The living room alone was spacious. It could probably fit a dozen people without getting too crowded. The interior was simple and organized; furniture and gadgets were avant-garde and tasteful.
Abstract paintings hung on walls while countless CDs and DVDs filled several shelves that housed the grand entertainment system. He spotted some random books there, too. The living room was a pretty safe place to take any guest, Junsu reckoned. There were no photographs... nothing that gave much away. All he could pick up from his surroundings was that Yoochun had an eye for art and a passion for music.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine how lonely it must be to live in such a place all alone.
Yoochun interrupted his musings, walking in long strides back into the lounge with a set of clothes in his hands. He pointed Junsu to the direction of the bathroom when his adorable guest started to fidget, looking utterly unsure—perhaps a bit too shy to ask outright. Three minutes later, Junsu was finally garbed in a regular outfit—and looked pretty darn good in it, too. Yoochun had to try not to stare too much.
The shorter man tugged at the front of the denim jacket he wore over an orange v-neck sweatshirt before his fingers slipped into the pockets of his jeans. Junsu marveled at how perfectly Yoochun’s clothes fitted him—the pants, most especially. He’d always been more... fleshy at the rear than the average guy. In fact, he almost refused straight out when Yoochun offered to lend him something more casual to wear simply because his butt might not fit into the slightly lankier man’s jeans.
“You look good.” Yoochun remarked with an appreciative smile—one that widened a fraction when the other man’s cheeks took on a pinkish shade.
“Uhh... thanks. And thanks for letting me borrow these.”
Yoochun only responded with a nod of his head and a pretty grin. Three more minutes later, after Yoochun had taken off his beanie (Junsu tried not to gawk at how effortlessly gorgeous he truly looked with that long-ish black hair gathered in a haphazard ponytail) to replace it with a navy blue baseball cap, they headed off to Yoochun’s garage and hopped into his car—a blindingly sparkly scarlet Porsche.
Junsu concluded then that he had underestimated this man very much.
“What do you do, Yoochun-sshi?” Junsu asked as they pulled for a stop at the red light. He was very much intrigued now. How could this person be this loaded when he seemed to spend so much time doing nothing?
The man turned to him, eyes alive and glimmering. From where Junsu was sitting perfectly still, Yoochun almost looked like he really was excited about this little spontaneous trip. Maybe he was, but Junsu wasn’t brazen enough to assume that it was because of his company. Perhaps it would work to his advantage if he didn’t expect anything out of this at all.
Yoochun could sense his new friend’s nervous—somewhat rigid—behavior around him. He immediately set his mind on changing that. Yoochun chuckled softly as he turned to the road again, one hand on the wheel. He balled the other into a fist and swung it to the side to hit his companion playfully on the arm. Junsu let out a squeaky yelp, nearly jumping in his seat. Yoochun tried very hard not to laugh, but his efforts were all for naught—
“Yah, why so formal, Junsu-yah?” He remarked in between uncontainable wide-grinned chuckles.
One eyebrow arched, the owner of the name stared at his unbelievably-rich-object-of-hidden-infat
The man in the passenger seat failed to suppress a giggle. Considering how they were still practically strangers to each other, he had been reluctant to omit formality in relating with this particular man. But since he had already called him ‘Junsu-yah’…
“All right, I get it. So what do you do, Yoochun-ah?”
Hearing the casual address tickled a quiet smile out of the man sitting behind the wheel. “I’m a writer-producer. I make songs for certain labels.”
A writer-producer...
“Oh...” Realization flickered in the amused man’s eyes. So the bum wasn’t a bum after all. And that explained why he was always... well, writing.
Junsu’s fingers lightly brushed over the spotless leather interior... the dashboard... even the door. Everything was soft to the touch. He could very well tell that everything cost a fortune, too.
Yoochun had to hide a satisfied smile as he watched him from the corner of his eye. If the shy, somewhat awkward, yet beautiful man was already audacious enough to touch his Porsche then that must mean that the ice had been successfully broken.
“Hey, want some music?” Yoochun willingly surrendered control over the tuner when his friend grinned big and nodded.
It was nice to see how Junsu lit up whenever a song he liked went on. It didn’t hurt at all that they had similar tastes in music either.
It wasn’t very long before they learned the basics about each other. That Junsu worked in a management consulting firm (admittedly a more boring trade compared to Yoochun’s), shared an apartment with a quirky designer-slash-architect named Kim Jaejoong, had a slightly older fraternal twin brother, and liked extra cheese on his pizza.
“Oh! And I’m deathly afraid of those fishies out of water that lie still and pretend to be dead but then suddenly thrash about like crazy when you touch them.” Junsu shuddered at the mental image.
Yoochun looked at him weird, and then burst out laughing.
He was secretly glad that the theme park was a good thirty minutes away.
For once, he was thankful for the slow traffic on the road, too.
----------
Owing to the fact that it was early in the afternoon on a chilly weekday, the place was nearly empty. It took them one minute to find a good parking space. No long queues welcomed them at the entrance either. Both men found it refreshing.
The free day-pass came with a pink bunny-shaped holder attached to a purple strap. All Junsu had to do was to put it around his neck, and suddenly he was twelve again. Yoochun watched in amusement as the shorter man eagerly led the way into the park grounds. There were only a handful of people inside—most likely students who had skipped classes and employees who had ditched work (Junsu was certainly guilty of that).
There was an obvious glow about Junsu as he studied the symbols on the map he was holding. He flipped it once, looked at his surroundings, as though to try to match the images on the broad glossy sheet with the actual thing.
Junsu paused, looking up intently at something that slowly painted a wide grin on his adorably boyish features.
Curious, Yoochun followed his line of vision... and he instantly felt his gut churn.
“That Ferris wheel is huge!”
The guy under the baseball cap gulped, muttered through stilled lips, “It sure is.”
Junsu turned to him and beamed in unabashed excitement. The acrophobe steeled himself for what he knew was coming next—
“Let’s go on it!”
Oh, Lord. Yoochun gave a tight-lipped smile whilst trying not to whimper aloud. He didn’t want to rain on the adorable boy’s parade but he wasn’t so sure if his stomach could make it even halfway through the ride.
Oblivious to his friend’s distress, Junsu turned to that monster of a wheel one more time, nostalgia sparking in his eyes.
“I haven’t been on one since I was... ten, I think.”
It was those words that gradually undid Yoochun’s stiff bearing. His breath hitched, like someone had punched him in the rib hard. The corners of his lips loosened, his gaze falling thoughtfully.
There was a very brief pause.
Junsu heard a deep intake of air... then suddenly there was a hand over his.
Eyes wide in surprise, he looked up at the man beside him. A gentle smile was tugging at Yoochun’s mouth as he spoke,
“Come on.”
Everything was okay—particularly because Yoochun had his fingers tangled with Junsu’s as they stepped inside. Same was the case when they occupied opposite sides of the egg-like gondola. And then, with no warning whatsoever, it started to jerk into movement. Yoochun’s hands quickly flew to hang on to the metal bar along the sides, with a death grip that nearly turned his knuckles white.
Junsu had been concerned from the very start, but Yoochun had assured him that he was okay. The former believed that until they were raised halfway to the top. It was then that the latter began to turn as still and as pale as a mannequin.
“Yoochun-ah—“
“Don’t move!”
Junsu was about to lean closer but suddenly froze, startled, at the other man’s unexpected bark. Yoochun’s unblinking vision was fixed on the ground, his breathing noticeably uneven. Junsu, on the other hand, had his observant eyes trained on the panicky man.
“You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?”
“Huh? N-no. No, I’m n—DON’T MOVE!!”
That was all the answer he needed. Chuckling lightly, Junsu slowly leaned back into his old position, careful not to cause unnecessary tremors to their little egg of a shelter this time.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
He could see the jumpy man in front of him gulp nervously.
“B-because you wanted to go on this—oh, shit!—this thing.”
Oh...
Junsu stilled, blinked.
OH!
And there went that urge to laugh and cry at the same time again. He died a little bit inside. Why did this man have to be so sweet?
He saw Yoochun fearfully shut his eyes tight as gravity decided to be unkind and tip their gondola into a lopsided position for a few seconds. The shrill creaking of steel hinges as they slanted back to normal was certainly not helping either. Junsu wanted so badly to do something—maybe hold his hand again or just do anything to make it better—but he knew shifting would only worsen things at this point.
“How about if I distract you until the ride’s over?”
Yoochun slowly turned his head up and eased his eyes open to look at him. Even the simple motion seemed to be taking a lot from the acrophobe.
“Distract me how?” It came out sounding like a pathetic whimper. Yoochun didn’t even want to think about how much this must be killing his suave image. Little did he know that Junsu found it nothing but adorable.
Junsu’s eyes wandered to his surroundings but he found nothing that gave him any ideas. He was about to feel for anything possibly helpful in his pockets, but then he realized that that would require some moving that could make the gondola wobble again. Yoochun was still looking at him expectantly so he blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind—
“Umm... I’ll ask you questions then you answer?”
Creaks resounded around them again and Yoochun almost looked like he wanted to fold and contract into himself. Besides mentally biting his own head off for bringing all of this on, Junsu knew he had to think of something—and fast.
What would soothe his friend’s nerves best?
Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning—
“What’s his name?”
The man’s tightly sealed eyelids fluttered open in an instant. For a second, worry edged into Junsu’s consciousness. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. But then Yoochun’s shoulders visibly relaxed, all fright falling off of his handsome face. He seemed surprised that Junsu was bringing it up but it didn’t look like he minded at all. Finally, his lips drew a small smile.
Something inside the smaller man sensed a mild sting coming on. He was a glutton for punishment, he reckoned.
“Juntarou.” Came the quiet response.
“That’s...” Junsu paused, tilted his head curiously, tried not laugh—that would be rude, he knew. “... a funny name.”
Yoochun’s smile grew a tad wider, quiet rumbles of laughter escaping his lips.
“It’s a nickname; it’s supposed to be funny. He hates it, though. If anybody else called him that he’d probably kick their ass.”
“Oh, thanks. I’ll remember that.” Junsu muttered and spurred another chuckle from his companion.
“He’s pretty athletic... more of the cute type. You remind me of him a bit.”
Junsu could only nervously laugh a little. Well, he didn’t exactly consider himself very athletic (that description would fit his brother better) so he really had nothing to react to that. But he barely missed the fact that Yoochun just indirectly said he was cute. He could feel his cheeks burning slightly. He absolutely resented it.
Stupid crush!
“Uhm, so anyway...how did you two meet?” He had to get back on track even if it killed him.
Junsu noticed the acrophobic music-maker’s hands slide off of the handles and land on his own lap. He probably didn’t even realize that they were at the peak of the ride now. This was working like magic, much to Junsu’s surprise.
“We missed the last train on New Year’s Eve three years ago. We were the only ones left at the station then. He was supposed to go to his cousin’s house and I was on my way to my mother’s. It wasn’t very long before midnight so we figured we’d just keep each other company.”
Junsu had to pause a while to process that new bit of information. Things were slowly beginning to make a little more sense now. Yoochun had been waiting for his first love at the place where they first met. It was sort of outrageous and dramatic, to be truthful. It was the kind of stuff that happened in sappy, clichéd soap operas, and it certainly should have been a big turn-off. Too bad Junsu was a sucker for theatrics; the crush stayed intact.
“Well, where is he now?”
“I... don’t know.” Yoochun drew in a sharp breath. “Six months ago, one of the company’s major artists made it big internationally so I went out with the staff and everyone else to celebrate. I got drunk. I... I slept with some woman... and he found out about it. I didn’t deny. I tried to explain but he was so angry and so hurt, he couldn’t forgive me. He left me then. I don’t blame him.”
The comfort and ease with which Yoochun was relaying all of this to him was a little startling. Somehow Junsu felt like he was crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed, yet Yoochun was letting him. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
It’s called friendship, Junsu. The little voice in his head starkly pointed out. And he believed it.
“Did you... love that woman?”
“No. God, no.” It was the first time Junsu saw Yoochun become that assertive—emotional, even. “I never loved anyone else. It was just a night of big mistakes. And I’m paying my dues right now.” Yoochun stared down at his hands, his voice growing softer. “He doesn’t give second chances—that’s just how he is. I lost quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m just going to have to live with that.”
Then why won’t you just let go? Why do you keep waiting? Junsu wanted to say but he opted to bite his tongue and keep it in. For some strange reason, he wanted to either cry or punch something hard. Instead, he took a deep breath and clasped his hands together.
“Well, you’re well-off... you seem to be the type of person with plenty of connections. Why don’t you just hire someone to find him?”
“I could, but I don’t think he’d want to see me.”
“Then why do you still wait for him?” The words were out before he could even try to stop them. He could seriously jump off the gondola that very second. His only consolation was that none of the strange, powerful emotions storming in his chest echoed in his tone. Nevertheless, the question got Yoochun staring at him blankly—a mix of surprise and thoughtfulness flickering in his eyes for a quick second.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to answer that.”
To Junsu’s surprise, a quiet laugh slipped past Yoochun’s smiling mouth.
“No, that’s all right, Junsu-yah. You don’t have to apologize.”
Before Junsu could say another word, the door of their little egg clicked and automatically swung open.
The ride was over.
Yoochun heaved a sigh of relief and mumbled something about making love to land. Junsu could feel heat crawling all the way to the back of his ears at the thought of Yoochun making love to anything—or anyone. Fortunately for him, Yoochun was too busy getting on his feet (and loving the fact that he was no higher than three feet in the air) to notice.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” The taller man artlessly took Junsu’s hand into his and led him out of the gondola, completely oblivious to the pounding of the other man’s heart.
Junsu felt like the ride had just begun.
----------
“What are you doing?”
“I’m making a special sauce.”
“Can I be honest?”
“Mhmm.”
“It looks disgusting.”
Yoochun stopped working his little concoction and looked at his non-believing companion in feigned indignation. He tapped his chopsticks against the edge of the small bowl to get rid of the excess mixture and then flung them in the air, pointing at the other man accusingly.
“Yah! Don’t underestimate my super special mandu sauce, Junsu-yah!”
“But who mixes...” Junsu glanced at the variety of spices, oils, condiments, and sauces on their table, his nose scrunched in distaste. “...all of this together?”
The ahjumma who owned the sit-down food stall had given Yoochun a strange look when he asked if they had these things. She didn’t even appear too amenable to the idea of letting them use the seasonings for free—until Yoochun smiled his sweetest and appealed for reconsideration.
“I do!” The pseudo-flavoring-connoisseur exclaimed and went back to stirring his masterpiece with his metal chopsticks. “Besides, I’ve been told several times that this is the most genius thing I’ve ever come up with.”
“Really...?” There was hardly any confidence in Junsu’s tone. Even the smell was a bit uncomfortable to the nostrils.
“Oh, thou of little faith. You’ll like this, trust me. This was his favorite.”
That last statement inadvertently bit off a good chunk of Junsu’s cheery disposition. It was probably his fault, anyway. He was the one who kept bringing ‘him’ up. It was no surprise that Yoochun had grown comfortable with mentioning him so casually. Junsu figured that he should just probably start getting used to it since they still had a bunch of credits to use and a long day ahead of them. Of course he could always bail out before it got out of hand. But the truth was he didn’t really want to.
“Try!” The small bowl of ‘super special mandu sauce à la Yoochun’ was gently steered closer to Junsu.
The consultant’s dubious gaze fell upon the funny-smelling mixture, glided up to Yoochun’s self-assured grin, and then went back to the bowl. A tiny part of him feared for his own life as he picked up a piece of mandu with his chopsticks and dipped half of it in the sauce. Slowly, he brought the dumpling to his mouth.
Yoochun observed Junsu closely as he chewed on the food, but his expression was giving nothing away. All he got was an obscure slant of the head and a noncommittal sound.
“Good?” Yoochun finally asked when the suspense proved too much to bear.
“Mrrmrhhmmrrhhmm.” Was the eloquent response.
“What?”
It took a few seconds before Junsu reacted at all. He gulped down the mandu, addressed Yoochun with wide, resolute eyes, then pointed his chopsticks at the man.
“Don’t talk to me.” That was all Junsu said before dipping another dumpling into the sauce—whole this time—and popping it hungrily into his mouth. Yoochun couldn’t stifle his laughter even if he tried.
They had seven servings of mandu that day.
And Yoochun had to make the sauce three times.
----------
“Twi-light.” Junsu pronounced the English word imprinted on his movie ticket. Yoochun took advantage of his friend’s distracted state. Quickly, he pulled Junsu’s money off of the counter and replaced it with his own bill.
They had had a lengthy squabble before then that essentially went:
“You paid for my Java Chip.”
“But we split the bill for the mandu—”
“That’s not enough to cover the cost of the coffee—plus the cost of your service for making the sauce three times, and the cost of your gasoline.”
“But I didn’t ask you to pay me back—“
“And you went on the Ferris wheel for my sake. You didn’t enjoy that particular ride at all; you could have spent that time on something you actually liked. Do you know the monetary value of every minute of your time?”
“Umm... well...”
The smaller man had triumphantly handed over cash for their popcorn and drinks after that. Yoochun should have known—this was a management consultant in one of the most competent multinational firms in the country he was dealing with. An accounting and finance ace... a formidable persuader, at his best.
Now, he had no idea what Junsu was talking about, but he did know that he wanted to treat his new friend for the whole day. Maybe he could just slip the money back into the man’s pocket later—although he had no idea how he could do that without getting too close for comfort. A glance at his wrist watch as they entered the cinema told him that he still had plenty of time to figure that one out.
“What’s this movie about?”
The question merited Junsu an odd glance.
“Wait a second. I’m the ‘bum at the train station’ and yet I know more about these things than you do? What cave have you been living in?” He teased the cute man, stressing the term Junsu had candidly used to describe him in one of their earlier silly verbal sparring—which pretty much ended with them laughing their butts off when they realized that they had completely lost track of the reason they were having it in the first place.
The smaller man pouted, feigning offense, and tossed a couple of buttered popcorn kernels into his mouth.
“Hobos get around a lot, don’t you know that? And I don’t have as much free time in my hands as you do, so sue me.”
At that, Yoochun smirked, leaned closer to Junsu’s face and whispered in that husky voice— “Then what are you doing here with me?”
Junsu went as still as a corpse, completely forgetting about his respiratory functions. Just then, the lights began to dim. It successfully concealed his flushed face from Yoochun’s sight.
Quite frankly, he was glad he didn’t have to answer that question because he really didn’t have the slightest clue, either.
It was about ten minutes into the movie when Junsu got engrossed in the story. He momentarily got over the fact that Yoochun’s face had been merely inches away from his just a few minutes ago. The love story was nice, but it was the action—the element of danger and bloodletting—that sparked his interest more. He was still a man, after all.
And so when he heard a muffled sniffle from his left when the credits started rolling following a rather ominous end, he was absolutely incredulous.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He said when the lights went back on and he saw the wet trail on Yoochun’s cheeks.
“Shut up. It was touching.” The guilty man muttered, drying his own tears with a flick of his hands.
Junsu simply couldn’t help it—he doubled over, bursting into a fit of laughter. He could see Yoochun’s pout through the tears that began to blur his own vision. He felt kind of bad then and so he tried to speak in between guffaws—
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just... you’re so cute. Come on, let’s go.” He took Yoochun’s hand and pulled him to his feet, missing the slight upward twitch of the corners of the man’s mouth at the ‘cute’ comment. He wrapped an arm around the music-maker in a half-hug to apologize for laughing. He was about to pull away but then Yoochun secured him in place with an arm hooked around his small waist.
“If you think you’re getting away with that so easily, then you’ll have to think again.”
Junsu’s misgivings about those words somehow overpowered the fluttering in his stomach at being in Yoochun’s arms.
He eyed the music-maker warily. “Well, what is it going to cost me then?”
Yoochun grinned—somewhat devious, in Junsu’s opinion.
Unbeknownst to the smaller man, a hand, light as a feather, was subtly slipping a folded bill into one of the pockets of his denim jacket.
“You’ll see.”
----------
The classical music that welcomed them instantly put Junsu in a state of perpetual sleepiness. Faint splashing sounds coming from artificial cascades mingled with the instruments in the background. Perfectly varnished wood lined the halls, warm lights illuminating the spotless white ceiling and smooth alabaster floors. The reception area smelled of calming incense and lavender. It almost seemed like a sacred temple where talking or stepping too loud would have one guillotined.
Junsu had never been to a spa before. Small, cheap, man-made hot springs and saunas, maybe—but never expensive, high-class spas like this one. Yoochun, on the other hand, looked like he knew exactly what to do and where to go. There were very few people that day so it wasn’t difficult at all to accommodate walk-in customers like them. The smaller man simply trailed behind his friend and pretended to know what he was doing.
He shuffled closer to Yoochun, leaning in to ask as softly as possible (he wanted to get out of this place alive, thank you very much), “Yoochun-ah, where are we going?”
“To the changing room.” The man replied before turning in a corner.
Next thing Junsu knew, they were standing in the middle of a purely white room with several frosted glass doors. He wondered for a second if this was heaven.
“Check the key inside your kit. It has your locker number.”
Junsu peeked inside the fancy plastic bag that the receptionist had handed them earlier. There were two towels, a robe, a pair of slippers, a small round soap, and some other necessary toiletries in small bottles. He pulled out the wooden leaf-shaped keychain at the bottom and found out that his locker was just right next to Yoochun’s.
“What are we supposed to change into?” Junsu asked as he stuffed the bag inside the rectangular compartment. He took off his shoes and socks and then stepped into the slippers—actually, he was just mimicking whatever Yoochun was doing.
The taller man removed his cap and jacket to deposit them in the locker. He took out a couple more things before shutting it closed.
“This.” He held up the robe to Junsu’s eye level. “Nothing else underneath. And then we go do Jacuzzi, and then massage.”
Junsu’s legs nearly buckled beneath him.
Jacuzzi? With you? NAKED?
Yoochun tried not to laugh at the adorable man’s wide-eyed expression—not to mention the fact that he just turned so pale he matched the walls quite nicely.
“Don’t worry, Junsu-yah, I’m not going to jump you.” Yoochun quipped with a playful wink.
Without really meaning to, Junsu pouted in slight disappointment.
“You’re not?” He thought aloud absently and instantly clamped both hands over his treacherous mouth when he realized what he’d just said. Lucky for him, Yoochun had disappeared behind one of the doors too quickly for him to catch it.
Inside the cubicle, Yoochun turned the lock and leaned his palms against the frosted glass, squeezing his eyes shut. He breathed in deep and bit on his lower lip hard. He knew he just made a promise he wasn’t exactly one hundred percent sure he could keep.
________________________________________
I meant to post this one earlier but we had to leave the house... mian~>.<
It's almost 2009! 8DDD
I wanted to finish this by New Year's eve but I think I'll have to extend my self-imposed deadline a bit~XD
Here's Susu being scared of fishie (XD):
♥♥♥♥♥ XDDD
Happy New Year guys! ^o^ Be safe! ♥ ^_____^
*smooches everyone* Comments are loved. ♥ ^___^
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