Title: Don't be scared; it's only love
Pairing: YooSu (mention of SeKai)
Rating: PG-13 (for harsh language)
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 6,002 (totally not intentional! LOL)
Warnings: None.
A/N: For rosedust230. I was going to wait until the 30th but I might be too busy by then, so... Happy birthday in advance and happy holidays!! ♥ I hope you like this. ^^

This was a dead WIP that I brought back to life because dead WIPs make me sad. Unbeta-ed and I haven't really written fic in forever, so I'm sorry for any errors you may come across.


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Yoochun pulled the hood over his head as he rounded the snow-covered street corner, white and glittery from the touch of moonbeams and artificial light. He stared at his steps, hands balling into fists before slipping into the pockets of his coat.

The back alley that he often used as a shortcut was unsurprisingly deserted at this time. The sound of wine bottles clinking inside the scruffy canvas shoulder bag hanging at his side seemed exceptionally loud in the midst of the silence. A thin layer of sheen coated much of the narrow path that wasn't covered in several inches of snow, and Yoochun really, really wanted nothing more than to go back to his apartment and curl under the blankets.

He grumbled, annoyed, after he stepped on a particularly slick patch of concrete and barely escaped what could have been a really embarrassing mishap.

"You owe me one, Kim Jaejoong," he gruffly told his black Timberland boots and buried his nose in the wool scarf wrapped around his neck.

He would have chewed the man out for rudely cutting his sleep when he phoned early that morning; but, to be fair, Jaejoong did sound genuinely frantic over the line so Yoochun decided to let it slide this once. It wasn't his fault his sister, who was in Daegu, started getting contractions way ahead of schedule. Jaejoong's brother-in-law wasn't coming home from a business trip in China until around eight in the evening, leaving his very pregnant wife alone at home with their two kids--and therein lay the urgent predicament.


"Bring it yourself when you get back!"

"I won't be back for a few days, though, and Junsu's having that party tonight and I promised to bring the wine. Besides, you're invited, too! Weren't you gonna come?"

Yoochun swallowed a groan, hand coming up to rub his face. He didn't think he needed to answer that question.

"Anyway, it practically takes ten steps to get to Junsu's place from yours. Pleeeease, Yoochunah! I know this isn't... ideal for you but I'm in a bind here. Besides, don't you think it's about time you overcome whatever Junsu-related anxiety you've somehow developed over the past month, because, I mean, honestly the poor guy is confused and he keeps thinking he did something wrong and--"

"Okay, stop. Stop. I'll go, okay. I'll go."


And this was basically how Yoochun got delegated the task of delivering two bottles of wine to Junsu's house.

He sighed into his scarf, footsteps heavy.

A month, huh?

It honestly didn't feel that long ago, but then again it wasn't easy to keep track of time when you were up to your eyeballs in endless backlog of work that absolutely needed to be dealt with before the end of the year. It had served as an easy excuse, though, whenever Junsu or Jaejoong, as expected, tried to drag him out of his hole.

It had been something of a Bro Vow made back when they graduated high school--three skinny, awkward teenagers with average skin and less than average teeth (except Junsu, Yoochun thought, because Junsu was always perfect)--that they would always keep in touch and hang out whenever they could. They made good on that promise even after they went off to separate universities. Yoochun had decided to take up finance while Junsu pursued music and theater, and Jaejoong studied fashion. It became a lot harder to keep up once they each began to settle into their individual careers, but they mostly managed.

Yoochun wasn't necessarily closer to either Junsu or Jaejoong. He always thought that they fell in their own respective categories, different but equal.

Jaejoong, as the eldest, was his voice of reason. Sometimes. Mostly when he wasn't inebriated--which wasn't all that often to be honest--or wallowing in his own life's drama. Fashion, Jaejoong had once asserted over a half-empty glass of Black Label, just doesn't work without drama. Yoochun had chuckled indulgently and raised his own glass for a toast.

And Junsu.

Junsu was... well, Junsu.

That feeling you would get when it was your birthday but nobody remembered, and then your boss dumped a full week's worth of work due in two days on your desk, then you spilled coffee on one of the reports so you had to do it over, and then after thirteen straight hours of work it started raining hard and you didn't have an umbrella, thank God you had a car, but then it wouldn't start so you ended up taking the jam-packed bus, and it started pouring harder right at that moment when you reached your stop, then you stepped on a gum stuck on the pavement on your way down, and then finally, finally, just when you were ready to throw in the towel, you walked up to your doorstep and found the cutest little puppy waiting for you with the most adorable sparkling eyes and it jumped and yipped happily, tail wagging, as soon as it saw you, and all of a sudden the world wasn't such a bad place anymore?

That's what Junsu was to him.

Junsu made him laugh--without really meaning to most of the time, but it worked like a charm all the same. He brought out Yoochun's sillier side just by being there. Junsu was like... Disneyland in human form. The embodiment of happiness in his otherwise lackluster life.


Yoochun wasn't sure how or when it started exactly, but when Junsu's stupid laugh started giving him palpitations and the lightest brush of fingers on skin had him nearly out of breath, his very first thought was: I am so fucked.

He managed to live with it for a few weeks, acting like he didn't just have a life-altering realization; but simply knowing did not make him any more prepared for the heat that would crawl up his neck whenever Junsu so much as looked his way. Panicked, confused, and ultimately unable to deal with feelings, he decided a month ago that the best thing to do was to hide away until he got over his dumb infatuation.

The fourth consecutive time that he had turned him down, a fuming Jaejoong ("It's just a movie, goddamn it! Would it kill you to spare three hours of your fucking time for your two wonderful best friends?!" ) had stormed into his apartment looking like he was ready to either punch him or cry, and demanded an explanation. Cornered, Yoochun had no choice but to tell the truth.

Jaejoong hadn't decked him, exactly, but he did hit him at the back of the head then proceeded to give him a hug, sort of in apology, before pointedly looking him in the eye, threatening, and said: "I love you, and this isn't really surprising to me at this point, but you better get your shit together, Park Yoochun. Either tell him or get over him. But I say be a man and just tell him."

Yoochun was still reeling from the mere act of acknowledging his feelings out loud for the first time that he didn't get to ask Jaejoong what exactly he meant by 'this isn't really surprising to me at this point'.


After that, it seemed that Jaejoong had bolstered his cover, telling Junsu how truly, awfully busy Yoochun was so they probably shouldn't bug him for now. Perhaps to allow Yoochun some time to think things over. Junsu had evidently bought into the slightly exaggerated version of the truth because, except for occasional texts or Kakao messages, he hadn't tried to get in touch with Yoochun much over the past month.

A few times, though, Junsu had asked if he could come over or offered to bring him food at work. Yoochun would almost immediately shoot him down every time, giving excuses like: I'm going to be stuck in a meeting so, um, I probably won't be in my office anyway so don't bother.

He knew he'd been acting like a dick. He did feel terrible about that, but whenever he contemplated coming clean, a strong taste of bile would suddenly rise in his throat, stomach going all knotted, and he'd feel like throwing up. That brought him to the conclusion that maybe, probably, he needed a little more time. Or a lot more time, possibly.

However, Yoochun was very much aware of the fact that he was officially out of excuses now that his team had managed to finish all the work just in time for New Year's Eve. So when he found out a couple of days ago through an exasperated Junho--Junsu's twin brother--that Junsu, in a moment of temporary insanity perhaps, had taken in three cats, he jumped at that little piece of information. He figured he could pull the ‘sorry-I’m-allergic-to-cats’ card--which was exactly what he did to beg off on Junsu's invitation to this Christmas Eve party.

It was a stupid excuse, really, but Junsu didn't push it and, honestly, that made Yoochun feel worse.

Perhaps this--showing up for once even if it was just to deliver wine--could be a way to make up for his dick behavior.

Yoochun kept telling himself this as he neared his destination. When Junsu's porch came into view, he suddenly felt his gut freeze and he knew for a fact that it had nothing to do with the season. He halted in his steps, mind going frantic, demanding him to turn around and scamper to the opposite direction.

"This is a really, really stupid idea. Why am I even here?" He whined under his breath as his feet shuffled under him.

Because you’d do well to grow some balls, his mind supplied, oddly sounding like Jaejoong's voice, and he had to admit that was probably true.

Yoochun breathed in until his lungs could take no more, never mind that the cold burned his nostrils dry. He licked his lips, full yet pale and slightly chapped from the ruthless climate, and summoned all his courage as he stepped up to the door.

He knocked. Regret instantly hit him and he found himself consumed by the urge to run, but it was too late.

When the door opened it was to Junsu in a cream knit jacket and a Santa hat with little blinking candy canes around the fluffy brim perched on his head. He looked so adorable Yoochun almost sobbed.

Junsu's eyes instantly grew wide the moment he saw who was at the door. And then the absolute worst possible thing happened: Junsu smiled. And giggled. Yoochun wanted to kiss him so bad--

"Yoochunie!!" That squeal could have woken the dead, and it definitely shook Yoochun out of his lovesick haze.

"Uh, hi," he croaked. That was embarrassing. Luckily Junsu didn't seem to notice. Yoochun cleared his throat and did his best impression of cheery. "Hi! Happy Christmas Eve!"

"You too! I didn't think you'd come." Junsu was staring at him with a look that Yoochun couldn't quite decipher, but he did recognize the pleased surprise in his voice.

Yoochun looked down as he pulled on his scarf and self-consciously scratched at his nose.

"Yeah, well, Jaejoongie hyung asked me to give this to you." He grabbed the canvas bag by the flap and handed it over.

"Oh yeah," Junsu's face slightly fell, concerned, as he accepted the bag and took a quick peek inside. "I heard about his sister. Is she okay?"

"I guess?" Yoochun shrugged. "I haven't really spoken to him since this morning."

"Ah. Well, come on in." Junsu slipped the strap over his shoulder and stepped to the side, pushing the door wider as he did so.

"Actually," Yoochun said slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat because he had no idea what to do with them. "I just came by to drop those off."

The sudden downturn of Junsu's mouth instantly sent his brain into mayhem. He wanted to gesture wildly with his hands, maybe hug Junsu, and tell him please, please don't be mad, but of course he didn't do that. Instead, he swallowed and reverted to his trump card. As if on cue, one furry little kitten with very light orange stripes and ears lying flat on its head ambled down the hall and rubbed against Junsu's legs before padding back the way it came.

"I'm aller-"

Junsu gruffly cut him off with a stern frown that clearly told him he wasn't taking any of his bullshit this time around.

"You have two large dogs yourself, Yoochun, I think you'll survive," he said, tone so sharp Yoochun almost winced, and grabbed him by the elbow. Junsu pushed him into the entryway before closing the door and standing directly behind it.

Junsu didn't give Yoochun a chance to resist at all; he took the liberty of unwinding Yoochun's scarf from around his neck before moving on to peel him out of his coat, leaving him in only a black, long sleeve v neck and dark jeans, and Yoochun's whole system was going berserk the entire time because, fuck, Junsu is undressing me!

"Shoes, Chunnie," Junsu said while he hooked Yoochun's winter garments on one of the racks.

Yoochun's mouth opened then closed, much like a goldfish, but not a sound tumbled out. It wasn't until Junsu was taking out a pair of indoor slippers--the ones that Yoochun usually wore whenever he came for a visit--from the shoe cabinet that the instruction fully registered. Still a little stupefied at the turn of events, but mostly resigned now, he quietly toed off his boots and lined them up against the wall.

When he turned around, Junsu was already on the landing, watching him with a small smile and a look in his eyes that almost seemed... appraising. Yoochun tried not to shiver under his gaze.

As soon as he stepped inside, Junsu attached himself to his arm (while Yoochun tried not hyperventilate) and practically manhandled him until they reached the large space which was half living room and half dining area. For a second Yoochun was disconcerted by the sheer amount of people around him. Junsu's place wasn't small by any standard, but he honestly didn't think it could fit this many guests.

Yoochun's gut promptly sank. He really wasn't prepared to socialize tonight.

All the guests had apparently already made themselves comfortable, some with plates of food while others with glasses of what Yoochun guessed was punch. He took it as consolation that he could at least recognize a few of them--theater people whom Junsu had worked with before like Jung Yunho, Shim Changmin, Jessica Jung, and Song Qian. He could also vaguely remember a couple of Junsu's co-teachers at the dance studio where he worked part-time.

Every warm, jolly greeting Yoochun received as Junsu pulled him along chipped away at his discomfort. Luckily most of them remembered him too and easily engaged him in animated chitchat. Despite his initial misgivings, pretty soon he found himself thinking: Well, this isn't so bad?

Probably thinking that it was safe to leave him there, Junsu detached himself from Yoochun and headed to the kitchen--much to Yoochun's relief. And slight disappointment--not that he would actually acknowledge that.


"You should meet the little devils," Kim Hyeoyeon, one of the dance teachers, said with a smirk after she and Lee Donghae, another instructor, had regaled him with hilarious tales of their crazy students' dumb antics.

Donghae laughingly pat him on the shoulder and began leading him towards the large couches by the steadily burning fireplace, occupied by a younger bunch. A couple of them were probably barely out of high school.

It was then that Junsu bounded out of the kitchen, announcing the arrival of more alcohol.

"Ohh, booze! About time!" A tall, skinny kid with bored eyes and perfectly shaped eyebrows bounced off of his own butt and onto his feet.

Someone in the adjacent couch--a baby-faced boy with big eyes lined with dark, thick lashes, who looked like he came straight out of a manga--snorted and flung a balled up chocolate wrapper at Tall Skinny Kid.

"Sit down, Sehun, are you even old enough to drink?"

They were standing just a couple steps away now and Yoochun can feel Donghae snickering beside him. He recalled Donghae telling him that this silly troublemaker, Oh Sehun, was secretly his favorite student.

Sehun rolled his eyes and shot his offender a razor-sharp look that almost sent chills down Yoochun's spine and, wow, this kid is ice-cold.

"Please. I'm twenty-one, Lu Han," he droned, stubborn, arms crossing over his chest.

"That's Lu Han hyung to you, brat," came the chastising retort and he aimed a deliberate kick at Sehun's shin.

Donghae nearly doubled over in soundless laughter as Sehun hopped about in pain. Meanwhile, Yoochun was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Lu Han was older.

"Besides, remember that you're driving Jongin back to the dorm later, so not a drop of booze for you."

At that, Sehun stopped, blinking like an owl. Then, with a pout, he slumped back on the couch, leaning into the bronze-skinned boy with perfect hair who was sitting beside him, quietly laughing behind his hand. The little gray kitten with large black lines and patches that was sleeping on his lap gave a slight jolt at the shift. The boy gently stroked behind its ears. Appeased, the kitten promptly lay back down and went back to sleep.

Sehun shot the boy a look--not menacing like the one he served Lu Han, but something that very closely resembled that of a kicked puppy.

"That's Jongin." Donghae said helpfully, nodding in the direction of Bronze-Skinned Boy With Perfect Hair. And this, Yoochun figured, was the beautifully-graceful-but-extremely-shy Kim Jongin, who was Hyeoyeon's secret-favorite.

It was cute, really, the way Jongin flung an arm around Sehun's shoulders to pull him closer to his side. And the way he smiled softly and sunk back into the backrest, ducking his head and mooshing his face into the velvet upholstery so that he can nose at the hollow between the cushion and the side of Sehun's face and, oh.

Oh.

Well, there you go.

Yoochun tried not to frown. Even high school kids were doing remarkably better than him on the love front.

"Wanna meet the rascals?" Donghae sounded genuinely eager as he settled a heavy hand on his shoulder, saving him from his downward spiral into self-decimation.

Yoochun shrugged, good-natured smile in place.

"Sure."

-----

It was surprisingly fun.

Yoochun formally met the goofy youngsters, who were really more balls of fiery energy cloaked in spikes of sarcasm than mere human beings.

He could still hardly believe that Lu Han was twenty-four, though. He could swear the boy didn't look any older than twelve. But he did note that Luhan took it upon himself to keep the younger ones in check, slapping the back of Sehun's head hard when he dared try to slip a wandering hand under Jongin's shirt, and making sure that Yixing--the most harmless one in the bunch with kind, sleepy eyes and a penchant for losing things--didn't accidentally drop his phone in his glass of wine or in the fireplace. They gave him a good laugh and eased whatever sliver of tension he had left.

At the strike of midnight, the entire house erupted in claps and whoops and clinking of glasses, and a loud chorus of "Merry Christmas!"

Not long after that, everyone gathered in the living room for Yankee Gift Swap, which Yoochun opted out of given that he didn't bring anything to swap. Nevertheless, he ended up with the last piece of brownie as appreciation from everyone for bringing wine.

The games started out simple and innocuous, everyone just having good clean fun, but inevitably got crazier as empty bottles of alcohol piled up. The final round of strip poker ended with a stark naked Jung Yunho planted face-first on the sofa, totally smashed, with only Junsu's Santa hat covering his bum.

Yoochun was able to help himself to a few cans of beer without much effect, other than perhaps loosening him up a little bit more. Lucky for him his tolerance had always been above par. Besides, he wanted to avoid getting drunk tonight because he definitely had no plans of staying over.

A couple more minutes passed and it started to become quite obvious that only a handful of people were still sober--mostly those who had to drive--and, much to Yochun's surprise, Junsu wasn't one of them. Throughout the night he kept flitting in and out of Yoochun's sight, until eventually he spotted Junsu completely red in the face, dangerously teetering on his feet as he laughed like a maniac at the picture of Yunho thoroughly wasted.

Yoochun figured then that it was time to call it a night. Thankfully, Junsu agreed.

By some miracle, Junsu managed to acknowledge his guests one last time despite the intoxicated haze. He waved and bowed as he thanked them for coming, all the while hanging on to a chair or the wall or plastered to Yoochun's side.

Seeing that he was slurring his words and was clearly on the verge of collapse, Yoochun insisted on taking over from there. He ushered the guests out, making sure that they safely got to their car or in a cab, while Junsu curled like a cat into a corner of the sofa, half of his face squashed against the arm rest.

That's how Yoochun found him when he came back inside the house. He stopped in his tracks and just watched him like that, deep affection automatically springing from his chest and spreading through his veins. His hands were itching to hold him so he decided to keep them busy with something else before they did something stupid like reach out and touch Junsu's face.

Sighing, Yoochun fetched a black garbage bag from a drawer where he knew Junsu kept them, and started picking up empty cans of beer, wrappers, and tissue papers that strewed the floor and the surface of some of the furniture. He didn't notice Junsu stirring back to consciousness until he heard a miserable groan.

"Yoochunnie," came a low drawl, breathy and gravelly, undeniably laced with alcohol.

Surprised, Yoochun looked up from where he was squatting on the floor. Junsu was struggling to push himself up into a sitting position, feet dangling over the edge until his soles were planted on the ground.

"You're still here." Even in this state Junsu's voice rang with pleased wonder and it warmed Yoochun's heart.

"Obviously," mumbled Yoochun, somewhat sulking. "You shouldn't have drunk so much. You know you don't take alcohol too well."

Junsu had the grace to look sheepish.

"But it was fun, right? You had fun?"

The hopeful expression on his face was too much. Yoochun ducked his head and resumed clearing trash and empty bottles so Junsu wouldn't see the flush of his cheeks.

"Of course, I did," he admitted, playing at a light, casual tone.

Several moments passed without anything more being said. There was no movement either, at least on Junsu's end. Just a steady lull, except for the rustle of plastic and sound of empty cans. Curious and a little bit concerned, Yoochun dared to lift his gaze and caught Junsu blatantly staring at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. Yoochun nearly choked on air.

"What?" He managed to utter over the tightness in his throat.

Junsu pursed his lips and shook his head in response. He abruptly stopped, though, pouting, and screwed his eyes shut as one hand pressed on a side of his head. Yoochun almost chuckled because, God, how cute, but that probably wasn't very appropriate right now.

"Leave that, all of it," he said, eyes still closed, as he made sweeping gestures with the hand that wasn't holding his temple. "I can clean up. Just. Once I can see straight again."

Yoochun snorted, tossing a couple more cans into the trash bag before straightening up. "Trust me, you'll be too hungover in the morning to get anything done."

Junsu emitted another wretched whine, and Yoochun just felt truly sorry for him now that he wanted so much to wrap his arms around him and stroke his hair and kiss his forehead until he fell asleep. Yoochun kept completely still.

"Um," Junsu eased one eye open. "I feel gross. But I don't think I can stand?"

Yoochun softly laughed. "That's what you get for being an idiot." There was no bite in his tone, but Junsu pouted at him anyway. Yoochun's heart was doing somersaults against his ribcage. Still, he was at Junsu's side in an instant.

Yoochun reached out with both hands and gently pulled him up. Junsu immediately started to careen, but Yoochun was quick to catch his weight, tucking Junsu into his side with an arm secured around his waist.

Junsu groaned and he was actually starting to look a little green.

Beside him, Yoochun clucked his tongue as they plodded to the bathroom.

"Honestly, Su, what would you do without me?" Yoochun meant it as a joke, but he could feel Junsu stiffen against him.

"I... don't know." His voice was so quiet, so crestfallen. It rang in Yoochun's ears, even as he stood a little disoriented outside the bathroom, until he could hear nothing but static.

Soon, muffled noises of violent retching began to echo from behind the closed door, followed by the toilet flushing, then sounds of water running and repeated gargling. Yoochun made sure to keep close attention even as he went to pick up where he left off in terms of tidying up all the mess.

Yoochun had gotten rid of all the garbage--though he figured the dishes could wait--and had arranged everything back to their original place when Junsu finally stepped back out. He still looked like shit but at least he wasn't stumbling on wobbly legs anymore. Yoochun thought he would go straight to his room; instead, he trudged back to the sitting room and collapsed on the couch.

"How are you feeling?" Yoochun made sure to keep his voice low as he handed Junsu a glass of water and a pill for his headache. Good thing he always kept a couple of those in his pocket in case of emergency.

"Better? I think?" Junsu croaked with a weak smile.

He did look better, Yoochun noted. Some semblance of color was back in his freshly washed face. His damp hair was slicked back, finger combed most likely, and Yoochun could see a faint, wet trail along the underside of Junsu's sharp jawline where his towel probably missed. He averted his gaze while trying not to think too much about how he'd very much like to lick that spot clean.

"Good." Yoochun paused, feeling oddly like he was a gangling high school kid standing in front of his crush's house after a first date and contemplating the wisdom of kissing them goodnight. He cleared his throat and made a show of dusting off his hands.

"Well. Everything looks good here. I left the dirty dishes in the sink, though. You can deal with those later."

"You're leaving?"

Yoochun balked at the look of disappointment in Junsu's eyes.

"Uhh," The correct answer would be a resounding 'yes', but it just wouldn't come out.

Cold fingers closed around his wrist and forcibly tugged until he tumbled down into the couch, his nose crashing on the thickly padded crest rail. He fell on his knees with a grimace.

"That hurt, you ass! You could have just asked!"

"Sorry," said Junsu in between fits of giggles. Yoochun detected not an ounce of remorse there.

He huffed, rubbing at his tingling nose. He didn't get up. Despite his better judgment, Yoochun readjusted himself on the cushion, head tilted over the edge of the backrest. Out of his peripheral vision he could make out the slow rise and fall of Junsu's chest, could hear him breathing next to him. It was impossible not to be hyper-aware of his presence when he was mere inches away.

They hadn't been in the same space, hadn't been this close, in a while and the feeling was familiar, but at the same time it wasn't. There is a tight, clenching in his chest, and suddenly all the alarms were going off in his head.

I shouldn't be here. I really shouldn't be here.

"Yoochun."

He almost didn't catch it over the pandemonium that was slowly breaking out in his gut. "Yeah,"

A beat passed.

"What... what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

The weight of frustration in Junsu's voice made him start. He'd never heard Junsu use this tone before. At least not with him in the receiving end of it. Something about it made Yoochun feel compelled to turn and look at him. Junsu's pale lips were drawn thin, his brows furrowed, jaw pulled tight.

That was when it sunk in--

Sirens wailed in Yoochun's ears, almost deafening. He felt like a tsunami was coming and he was standing helpless right in the middle of the point of impact. He reverted back to staring at the ceiling. Something safer.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

The surge of panic was making him dizzy. He wasn't prepared to talk about this. What should he say? What could he say that wouldn't make him feel like ripping out of his own skin?

"I haven't--" Yoochun barely noticed that his lips were even moving.

Yoochun heard a harsh scoff beside him, felt a sudden shift in the dip of the cushion, and then Junsu was facing him.

"Seriously? How long have we known each other for, Yoochun? You really think I can't tell when you're lying to me?"

Yoochun was drowning. He was sure he was drowning.

"Did... did I do... something wrong?" Junsu never sounded so small.

Guilt slammed into Yoochun's gut and he wished the couch would just swallow him whole.

"No, no, you didn't."

"Then why?" Junsu all but screamed. He sounded as miserable as Yoochun felt. "I need to know what's broken so that I can fix it."

The anguish in Junsu's voice hurt, and it was enough to undo him. The tightening in his chest was so, so suffocating.

"I don't think you can." Yoochun almost choked. "Or maybe you can, but--" He swallowed and it hurt.

Yoochun sat up, turning to finally face Junsu, but he kept his gaze low. He saw Junsu's hands curled into tight fists on his lap.

Slowly, he reached for them.

Yoochun didn't know what made him do it--he was positive he'd gone crazy because it seemed like he couldn't control his limbs anymore--but there was just this overwhelming need to touch.

He felt Junsu tense right away, and he found himself holding his breath. He was prepared to move away if Junsu asked him to. Junsu didn't. Yoochun turned his smaller hands over, palms up, prying the fingers open. His touch was careful, reverent, like how one would handle a fine piece of china. He covered Junsu's palms with his own, pinky slipping into the space between Junsu's thumb and index finger, and just held him there.

They'd held hands before. They did it a lot, actually. This shouldn't be any different, and yet the thrum of Yoochun's heartbeat was so strong and so loud he was positive Junsu could hear it. When the pads of his thumbs began absently stroking the inside of Junsu's wrists, he felt the pounding of pulse so rapid it should be alarming, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out if it was his or Junsu's.

Yoochun could feel himself falling into the deepest burrow of despair; could feel his insides being pulled in different directions, his brain screaming too many thoughts at once, and yet he couldn't let go.

What are you doing? This could ruin everything. This could destroy absolutely every--

And then it all stopped--his breathing, his heartbeat, the voices in his head--and there was something like a burst of blinding light behind his eyes because Junsu was kissing him.

Junsu was kissing him.

His lips were soft and warm and everything Yoochun ever dreamed of and more. But then he was pulling away before Yoochun could even react.

Junsu's face was flushed, looking a little dazed but sort of terrified at the same time.

"Did I fix it?"

Yoochun stared, mind still a little hazy. But then the implication of that question began to register and he spluttered in panic.

"How... how did you--"

Jaejoong hyung. It must be Jaejoong hyung. I'm going to kill him. Or thank him? Maybe both?

Junsu's gaze suddenly dropped to their linked hands. It was only then that Yoochun realized how tightly Junsu was holding on to him. In a few minutes he was sure his fingers would be purple, but that really was the least of his concerns right now.

"I didn't," muttered Junsu, voice soft and unsure. "I just thought, maybe--"

Yoochun heard a mix of hope and fear there, and his heart resumed hammering in his chest. He wasn't sure how he was still alive, to be honest.

"So..." He trailed off, feeling like he was standing on very thin ice. With cracks. Static filled his ears and his mind was absolutely blank. None of this was fully getting through to him yet because he'd never dared entertain the thought of Junsu feeling the same way before.

"For the record, though," Junsu quickly jumped in. "I've wanted to do that for a really, really long time."

Yoochun blinked.

"How long?"

The way Junsu's tongue darted out to wet his lips as he appeared to think was really, really distracting. Way more distracting than the feeling of cold numbness in his hands from lack of circulation.

"I'm not sure? Maybe since the first time I got the lead in a play and you stayed up with me all night to help me with my lines?"

Yoochun paused to consider that for a bit. "Su, that was sophomore year in high school."

Junsu blushed a deep shade of crimson. "I know."

Yoochun couldn't believe what he was hearing. His mouth started doing that fish thing again, gaze searching Junsu's eyes and, for the first time, he did see it. Maybe it had been there for years and he just never noticed.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

Junsu loves me.

All of a sudden Yoochun burst into laughter--the embarrassingly high-pitched kind that throws his head back and contorts his face beyond recognition--as he felt a ton of weight lift from his shoulders.

Junsu loves me.

Yoochun's arms came around Junsu's waist--secretly relishing the feel of unrestricted flow of blood in his fingers--and clasped his hands at Junsu's back as he pulled him closer until Junsu was practically straddling him.

Yoochun tipped his head, grinning and lightheaded with relief as he leaned his forehead against Junsu's.

"You're... you're so..."

Junsu chuckled, eyes bright. "So are you."

Yoochun didn't resist when Junsu held the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. He might have mumbled "I love you" somewhere in the middle of nipping Junsu's upper lip and sliding his tongue against the underside of Junsu's, but he was too drunk on happiness and Junsu to be sure. Neither of them broke off even when three kittens jumped onto the couch and rubbed all over them.

Yoochun really wasn't lying about being allergic to cats, though. He was pretty sure that he'd end up sneezing up a storm later, but as he felt Junsu caress the side of his neck and smile against his lips, he decided that it was totally worth it.

_____________________________________________

Happy holidays! ^^