A/N: I finally finished this, omfg. This last part is especially for Vivien, who's been pushing me to finish this for months. If it weren't for her, this would probably still be sitting on my computer, rotting. :) I love you, Vivi! ♥
You’re running through a dark tunnel.
Your vision is blurry, all faded lines and colliding lights. Whirring noises buzz around your ears like a VCR running backwards, a heavy hum that shakes the ground gently. You’re tired but you won’t stop running, not willing to stop- or maybe you can't, you're not sure. Your legs continue to carry you towards the end and you don't think much of it.
There’s a light, a white blinding light over there and you've convinced yourself that it holds something on the other side. It’s the only thing on your mind right now, to find out what’s waiting for you. You can feel your heartbeat pounding painfully in your chest but none of that matters much. You're curious to see what is at the end and you want to get there as fast as you can.
A few steps away from the exit and you stop, thinking about the different possibilities, weighing the good and the bad. You realize that you're only stalling for time. Maybe you're just scared because, what are the chances of something good popping up? But you remember that life is about taking chances, seizing them and just going for it, so you lift your foot, one after the other, towards the light.
And then everything is too overwhelming, you shield your eyes behind your hand.
It’s a sickening blinding white and you know you’ve been here before. There are no walls and no color. Just you and the ground and the white that stretches on. You find yourself regretting ever stepping into here and you turn around, but the tunnel is gone.
You scream but nothing comes out, sounding like a clogged pipe. There is no sound, no color, no happiness or sadness or frustration or anger. There is only you.
Maybe you were always meant to be alone.
You eyes snap open and-
“Fuck, man,” he lets out a sigh of relief and sits on the edge of your bed. “You know how hard it is trying to sleep with you always screaming like this?” he chuckles nervously, wiping sweat off his forehead. He is trembling a bit, was probably scared shitless when you were dreaming, and now you feel guilty. No one should have to put up with this, especially not him.
“Sorry, Jaejoong,” you choke and get up. “I-”
He steals the words from your lips with a tight hug. You feel his strong arms and gentle fingers clench at your sticky shirt, burying his head into the space between your neck and your shoulder. You hold onto him like a lifeline and you feel your heart slowing back down to normal.
“Coffee’s beside you if you need it,” he finally says, motioning to your right. You make some space for him on the bed and he lies down beside you, sighing and closing his eyes.
"Thanks," you say gratefully and reach for the mug. You drink it all in one go, feeling the hot liquid race down your insides. The burn feels good, warming up your body like a gentle fire. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” you smile.
“Me neither,” he shakes his head and laughs. “Hopeless, helpless Yoochun.”
“Shut up,” you nudge him. “Get some sleep now, sorry for keeping you up.”
You’re 24 years old. Having decided to move back to Seoul three years ago, you settled back into city you grew up in. You moved into an apartment and somewhere along the way, you found yourself a roommate, Kim Jaejoong. You had found him eccentric and outrageously weird at first, platinum blonde hair and too many piercings, but afterwards, you found more shared interests than you had thought. It was deemed a month later that you two were ‘soulmates’.
You work now as a part-time composer, pouring thoughts and feelings, different shapes and odd pieces of your soul into music by the touch of your fingers on a keyboard. They don’t come out as much, you know, but they’re enough for some companies and you get paid a decent amount. On top of that, you work at as a waiter in a restaurant downtown on weekends and a few weekdays. The atmosphere is loud and busy, not what you're used to, but it's a different feeling and you enjoy the chatter of customers and the smell of rich red wine. The money feeds you, pays for your half of the rent you and Jaejoong have to pool together for. You don’t need much. Don’t need fancy clothing or a shiny sports car, so you decide that this is ok.
“Who’s Yunho?” Jaejoong asks that morning during breakfast.
Chopsticks stop halfway in midair and you’re not chewing, shocked and surprised by how sudden the question was.
“What?” How the hell did he-
“Who is Yunho?” he says, pronouncing every syllable slowly so that you comprehend what he’s saying, not that you didn’t before.
“I-uhm,” you stutter. “Yunho?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “Always hear you mumbling his name in your nightmares, so I’m curious.”
“Oh…” Damn it.
“He’s… just someone I used to know,” you nod.
“Like, an ex-boyfriend or something?”
You choke on a grain of rice. “W-What??”
Jaejoong laughs. “Well, he has to be special enough that you’d say his name when you’re dreaming, right?” he winks continues laughing behind a hand.
You smile, “He’s just an old friend.”
“Hmm…” Jaejoong nodded. “Keeping secrets from me now?”
You chuckle and shake your head. “No.”
“Then spill it!” he kicks you from underneath the table.
You heave a sigh, “But it’s a really long story.”
“Yoochun,” he glares. “Stop stalling.”
“Then tell me!” he whines.
You sigh, “But-“
“It’s not even that important…”
“What did we say about keeping things from each other?”
“I know, but-”
“Ok, ok,” you relent. “Where should I begin?”
“Wherever you think it should start,” Jaejoong nods.
You come home to find a big brown package lying on the kitchen table and a post-it note signed by Jaejoong.
‘Thank me later! ^___^’
With curious fingers, you pry open the seal and find yourself holding a stack of paper.
And an address.
The trip to Gwanju was planned for an entire week and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Is this it? Are you actually going to meet him?
Will he even remember you?
The map is laid out in front of you and you scrutinize over the red arrows and the big circle drawn over the destination. You ask for directions for the millionth time that day and you are led to a foster home, the sign "Sunshine Foster Care Center" hung on the window. You knock on the door and a girl appears before you.
“Excuse me,” you say. “Where can I find Jung Yunho? I'm here to see him.”
“Yunho oppa is in the playground out in the back,” she pointed. “With the kids. Just head around the house and open the gate.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you say and make your way.
You unlock the back door. He still looks exactly the same, clear eyes, a gentle smile, and he has the same rich laughter you remember from years ago. He’s holding a water gun and spraying the younger children with water and they shriek with laughter. It makes you smile, reminding you of how he was to you. The scene looks so Yunho, him playing with the children. Because he just has such a big heart and so much love to share with them.
And then he turns around, spotting you.
“H-hello,” you bow quickly.
He smiles calmly but a look of uncertainty crosses his eyes, “Hello.”
“Hyung!” One of the younger boys says loudly, “Who’s that?”
“Do we have a new oppa?” a girl claps her hands together excitedly.
"Come play with us, hyung!" another boy shouts.
“Kids, come on, that’s no way to treat a guest! Go play amongst yourselves first while I welcome him, ok?” Yunho says gently.
“Oh… ok,” they all say and head over to the small playground.
Yunho looks at you apologetically, “Sorry about that, the kids, they get too excited sometimes.”
“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s fine.”
“I’m Yunho. Jung Yunho,” he smiles and reaches out his hand.
You smile back, “Yunho-hyung. It’s me, Micky.”
His smile fades and you can see the wave of recognition wash over his face. “…Micky,” he says.
“Yunho-hyung,” you say.
“Oh my god, Micky!” he shouts and leaps on you, pulling you close to his chest and hugging you hard. “Micky, Micky, Micky, Micky…”
“Ahh, hyung,” you gasp. “T-too… h-hard…”
“What? Oh, sorry!” he lets go. “But Micky, oh my god. Oh my god. How? What? …How?” he asked.
“Long story,” you shake your head.
“I have time! Wait, where are you staying? How’d you get here? Do you have a place to stay? Are you hungry? Did you eat yet? I could go—”
“Hyung, hyung, relax,” you say. “I’m not going anywhere. Calm down.”
“Yeah,” he nods and clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m calm.”
“I just came down from Seoul,” you explain. “You’re not an easy person to track down.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Neither are you.”
“But at least I found you now, right?”
“Found,” he nods. “Found me.”
“And this time, I’m not going anywhere either,” you promise.
He hugs you again, “Me neither.”
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