milena_1980: (jaejoong)
[personal profile] milena_1980
Title: Sleeping With Ghosts 22/?
Author: Pandora/[ profile] milena_1980
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: JaeChun (main), YooSu, YooMin, JaeHo, HoMin, HyukSu
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Warning: Underage sex (17, but, just to be safe); suicidal feelings; references to substance abuse; self-harm
Summary: Soul mates never die
A/N: A series of connected drabbles/ficlets. Not always in chronological order! Title and lyrics from Sleeping With Ghosts by Placebo
A/N 2: This has been written for a few months now. It's very rough, there are probably a ton of mistakes, but I've been wanting to post for a while. I hope you enjoy.

Title: Reality

I should study for tomorrow's test.

You turn to him so fast you hurt your neck. You're sitting at your usual spot out in the school yard, the remnants of your lunch—sandwiches—next to you, ants climbing onto the napkins. He's doodling again, his special notebook (the one he never lets you even look into), words and lines and curves bleeding from his blue pen.

You want to study. Jaejoong nods and it's all you can do not to wonder if you're finally going crazy. Jaejoong doesn't study, he hates it, you couldn't pay him to do his homework!

I can't wait to get out of that prison, he says frequently, eyes blazing with a hatred you'll never be able to understand. Today, though . . .

He arrived early to your meeting place this morning, uniform so neat. He smiled at your sight, and made conversation as you walked to school, like he always does. Once in class, he didn't fall asleep, no; he paid attention to class, even participated a few times. Crazy, you thought more than once, but you did your best to ignore it. Until now.

Hyung, you never study for exams. He gives you an incredulous look.

And I want to now. Aren't you always harping at me to do so?

You shrug. His voice, it's so . . . normal. Well, not normal for him. He always sounds like a lunatic, voice wild and crazy and happy most of the time. Today, he's just calm. Today, you could confuse him with anybody but himself.

It has been a good day, I think, he says, smiling. Did you hear our English teacher? He actually said "Good job." Can you believe that?

You really couldn't, when the words left the teacher's lips, but you don't tell him this.

Want to go eat something after school? he asks, suddenly. My treat.

Oh? But, he's always broke. You always end up using your whole allowance just to get snacks and things like that for your nightly escapades.

But, Hyung . . .

Jaejoong sighs impatiently.

What? What am I saying? Doing? You look like . . . like an idiot, really, staring at me like that. An idiot! Stop it. If you don't want to go out with me, just say it.

You almost say, But you love when I stare at you like this, but that just sounds ridiculous. He usually loves annoying you, adores when you show it. What does he see in your eyes that bothers him so much? Can he see your worry? Maybe he sees nothing at all . . .

So? Are we going? he asks again.

You nod, sighing.


Title: Burden

He wanted to give up on everything. It wasn't worth it to keep going, he was getting nowhere, just going in circles, searching for something he would never obtain . . .

His handwriting is so neat now, his words spelled correctly, every sentence coherent. You wish you could say the same for the previous ten pages, but you can't—those are nearly unintelligible.

The notebook was on the floor when you got home just now, the pencil a few feet away. Strange, you thought at once. Jaejoong always makes sure to put everything in the same spot whenever he isn't writing, the pencil on top of the notebook, almost always in the same position. Why did it fall? Ah, it doesn't matter. He was going out with Junsu, so he probably didn't even notice. They've become such good friends, spending a lot of time together; you hate yourself for it, but you're beginning to get jealous.

It was open to a page, so you read, accidentally . . . Well, you couldn't resist reading, how could you? You want to know what goes on in Jaejoong's head, what he writes about. Isn't it normal to give in to curiosity?

And betray his trust, you think with a sigh, closing it and putting it back on the coffee table. He hasn't given you permission to read it, he probably never will. This, no, you can't read anymore.

Instead, you choose to go shower. Your neck and shoulders hurt from so much stress at work, too much work, too many responsibilities, at least right now. You're sure things will settle down soon enough. No, you should be honest with yourself: all this stress, all this pain, or most of it, at least, is home, Jaejoong, everything surrounding him.

He's better, you can see how much he keeps improving every day. He smiles, he laughs, he seems happy. And, God, your heart skips a bit every time you hear his voice, whether he talks or laughs. You love him and you're happy, you have everything you ever asked for.

Your thoughts shift to just a few days ago, when Jaejoong bought the suit for your brother's wedding. The question keeps grating on your nerves: where did he get the money? Why won't he tell you? You hate that he's keeping secrets from you. At the same time, you know, he needs his privacy, you don't need to know what he does 24/7, nor everyone he knows; you don't need to know every detail about his past, no matter how much you wish you did.

You sigh, drying your hair with a towel before going into your bedroom. You should eat, you know, you're hungry. He has been cooking lately and you've gained some weight—you're naturally thin, but even you have to admit that your weight loss was ridiculous. So, now to get something to eat.

The cell phone is ringing when you return to the living room. You smile when you see his name on the screen and pick up at once.


he says, sounding happy. How are you? Are you home?

I'm okay, got back a little while ago.
Your heart beats faster at the sound of his voice (you feel like you're seventeen all over again). Where are you?

We're on our way back home. Did you eat, yet?


I'll bring you something. Any preference?

I can make something for mys . . .

I'm bringing you food
, he insists. You have to laugh—he can be so very bossy.

All right, all right. Anything you pick is good.

You can hear the smile in his voice. Oh, God, how can you love him so much? See you in a bit.

See you.

He hangs up, and you sit on the sofa, smiling like an idiot (you're sure of it).

Title: Reassurance

And my Yoochunnie fights with a dragon, slays its heart. Another obstacle to get to his beloved Jaejoong.

The sky is covered in stars, it's chilly outside, but he insisted you sit against the windshield of the car, where he proceeded to talk and talk (like he always does). He came by earlier tonight, around one. So unlike him—he likes to pick you up later just to be annoying. Does he even sleep? You wonder sometimes. He probably does, when he isn't with you. Maybe.

You listen (like you always do), and you must laugh. He has been going on about his story again, but he keeps adding and adding, until it's really a fantastic story filled with magic and dragons and flying unicorns, and so many things you have already lost track. So far, you—or Yoochunnie, the tragic hero—have been a simple warrior, a mage; you have ridden a talking horse, met magical creatures (some he has invented); you have fought a couple of monsters and nearly died about five times; and now you have slain your second dragon for the night, except the first one didn't spit fire.

Those are only a few ideas, he says, smiling, eyes wild. What do you think? Isn't it an amazing story?

You don't know what to say, so you answer with a question.

But what about Jaejoong? It's all about Yoochun! I want to know where Jaejoong went.

He grins, shrugging.

He's somewhere. Yoochunnie needs to find him. That's the point of the whole story. Jaejoong rolls his eyes. Yoochunnie, what fun will it be if I tell you the ending?

Will Yoochun die?
you ask, joking.

No! And you have never seen him so upset over something so small. How can you even suggest I would kill him? Then what would Jaejoong do?

You sigh, trying to get more comfortable. You should have known, when he came to pick you up so early. His mind seems to be racing, filled with so many ideas and useless information, and he needs to get it all out. It's good that he does, else he ends up bottling it all up and then explodes, every word laced with anger and frustration. You like him like this, in a comfortable setting where it's only the two of you, together, no one in the way of what you share.

I want it to have a happy ending, he sounds sad, all of a sudden. Is this your fault? When you finally turn to him, you see he's about to cry. God, why must he be so complicated?

You put your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer, pressing a kiss to his hair.

I was only joking, you assure him. I'm sorry, okay?

Jaejoong sniffles, snuggling up to you.


Of course.
What is he thinking right now, that he would feel the need to make you promise?

He sighs—you think he sounds relieved—arm around your waist.

You won't ever, ever leave me, will you? Ever? That question again. Why?

I won't, ever. You can't get rid of me.

He kisses your cheek and settles against you, warm and wonderful.

Title: Obey

I just want to know where the money came from.

Your brother's wedding is less than a week away. The thought of it alone looms over you, casting a dark shadow of uncertainty, even fear. You hate the way it feels; you hate that you feel that way at home lately, too. It's stupid, you know, this worry over Jaejoong and what he may be hiding. It's probably nothing; for all you know, he has a savings account somewhere. Or a credit card. Or something.

You don't expect Junsu to shake his head impatiently, though. You're sitting at his kitchen table after eating dinner together. Hyukjae is working late, Jaejoong is out having dinner with Yunho (the mere idea drives you insane with jealousy), so the two of you thought it was logical you should spend the evening together.

Now, he's looking at you with disbelief. God, why is he always so annoyed at you? What did you do now?

You don't trust him, he says simply. You want to deny his statement, but you find no words to do so. All of this time, he has proven to you that he's willing to work everything out and you don't trust him?

You scowl, glaring at him.

Are you kidding me? When has he ever given me a reason to trust him implicitly? All of those years, coming in and out of your life, making your days miserable with pain and regret. Will you ever be able to forget it all?

Since he put his life in your hands. Junsu speaks softly, gaze matching his tone. It takes a hell of a lot of trust to do what he has done with you. He trusts you with his life. He sighs. Don't get me wrong, he was a bastard in the past, some things I haven't been able to forgive him, for hurting you. At the same time, he isn't that man anymore. Jaejoong is fully aware of everything he does and has done, and he wants to fix it. Don't take away that chance from him, not yet.

You're confused, you can't help but show it.

You're the last person I would expect to tell me this.

He snorts softly, grinning.

Then I guess you don't know me as well as we thought you did.

Title: Music

I didn't know you could play.

The door to his work room was open when you passed by to go to the bathroom. Once you came back, you couldn't resist—you turned on the light and sat down at the piano. It's an electronic keyboard, gray. It isn't at all attractive, if you're honest, and yet it calls to you. The keys are so soft, too soft, it takes the littlest of force and the piano sings. It's strange, you don't really like it, and you hate how sitting here makes you feel. Yet, you stay.

You sigh, staring at your hands poised on the white keys. And you play.

Not a minute later, you stop.

What the fuck am I doing? It sounds ugly, rough, wrong, so horribly wrong, and why shouldn’t it? You shouldn't be sitting here, like an idiot, trying to get back something that . . .

I didn't know you could play.

You look to the doorway at the sound of his voice. Junsu is looking straight at you, standing just outside the room. He looks surprised, but also somewhat hurt. It's not like it's a secret, it's not like you're ashamed of it, but you don't like talking about it. You've never wanted to share this with anyone. Right now, though, the way he's looking at you, will you be a jerk and dismiss his unspoken question? You shrug, eyes on the piano keys.

I learned when I was a kid. Mom insisted.You shrug. I got pulled out of the class after the divorce.

You huff, knowing there's regret painted all over your face. Junsu's still looking at you, unmoving. Is that sadness you see in his eyes?

How about when you were older? You had my piano at your disposal, and Changmin's . . .

You shake your head.

I was done with music by then. After . . . after he left the first time, I didn't want to do anything that reminded me of him. You smile ruefully, lost in memories of cutting classes with Jaejoong and sneaking into the music room at school to use the piano. How cliché. He used to tell me I should study music, send my parents' wishes to hell. He loved to hear me sing, you know? And I liked listening to him. I miss it now, his voice, him singing random songs from the radio. The thought of it makes you smile. How many hours didn't you spend, sitting quietly next to him, enraptured by his beautiful voice?

Junsu smiles slightly.

Why don't you ask him to? he suggests. You consider it for a moment, but you quickly discard the idea.

I don't know. It's a perfectly good question. I don't know if I could take it if he refused? I'm afraid of reminding him of things he might not be happy to remember? They are questions; you have no answers. Fear drives you, it's so stupidly pathetic.

You're surprised when Junsu rolls his eyes.

I can't live like this, you getting on my nerves every damn day. He glares, and you have to bite your lower lip not to laugh. Obviously, you still love it. Music, I mean. You shrug. Can I teach you? Or attempt to?

His offer catches you completely by surprise. Is he serious?

I haven't played since I was seventeen! you protest. Besides, what for? That part of my life is over . . .

Your voice trails off when you meet his eyes once more. Junsu looks sad, why? Why does he even care about this?

Just say yes.

Title: Snow

Hey, are you hungry?

It's five in the afternoon on a Sunday, you've been home all day, relaxing, watching TV. Or, rather, you've been trying to relax. All peace leaves your mind the second you remember that you're out in the living room all alone, you have spoken to no one all day; you haven't heard his voice all day.

Hyung? Jaejoong doesn't answer. He's lying on his side, back to the door (and to you), still and silent, just like he has been all day long. You're sure he's awake; how you wish he would at least look at you. With a sigh, you leave the room and go back to the living room.

Today is one of those days. Two days ago, he wouldn't stop talking, while you ate dinner, while watching TV, even before you both finally drifted off to sleep (your performance at work was rather pitiful for a couple of days). It never lasts long, though, tomorrow must always come; the silence will always come.

I thought that was supposed to end once he was medicated, you complained to Yunho yesterday. Jaejoong's nurse had noticed he would barely speak, you couldn't help but bring it up when Yunho called during lunch.

Come on, you know better than that. He's always so reasonable (and makes you feel so horribly inadequate). He knows Jaejoong better than you do; it grates on your nerves, though you know you should be grateful someone understands. It never stops. It's just not anywhere as bad as when he isn’t medicated.

You know better, but you still hoped.

There's nothing on TV you want to watch (you can't focus on anything). You don't feel like reading or cleaning. Maybe you should go out? Except that would mean leaving him alone and you refuse to, not even for a ten minute walk around the neighborhood. What to do? You feel so pathetic sitting here, unable to think about anything other than the man lying in bed a room away. He won't get out of bed, true, he won't spend any time with you out here, like he normally does. Why should he, though?

Mind made up, you go to bed and lie behind him, holding him close, an arm around his waist. There's no reason why you can't be in here instead.


<<Part 21 | Part 23>>

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