04 December 2011 @ 08:07 am
Title: Summer
Length: oneshot
Pairing: Changmin/Yunho (this is a MinHo)
Rating: R
Warnings: mentioned child-abuse -kinda tame tho' :D
Genre: tragedy, fluff, romance
Disclaimer: this is pure fiction. I don't make any profit with this.

author: [livejournal.com profile] abcdefghiluvyou

Summary: “But what if a miracle would save him, would take him away from here to somewhere else. What if Changmin is the miracle for this one crying boy, a miracle he himself had waited all his life for...”









Summer




Changmin is seventeen when one spring day he comes home from his job to find his father laying dead on the floor in a dried puddle of his own vomit.

He isn't sure how long his father had been laying like this, how long he had been dead since he hadn't been home in days, but the stench is horrible and the first thought crossing Changmin's mind is that he has to somehow get it out this pathetic home before he can sell it.

With calculative eyes he takes in his father's pale and sunken form, flies in his open mouth and eyes, his stubby, nicotine-yellow fingers suspiciously gnawed off. Remembering how those disgusting fingers had hurt while boring deep inside his ass throughout his childhood, remembering how they had balled into fists and bruised his body, Changmin lets out a wholehearted snort, eyes amused when he finally walks the three steps over his father's dead body and to the windows to open them for fresh air.

Sunlight illuminates his standing, breathing, alive form and Changmin muses silently, not really bitter more like resigned as he thinks how very ironic all of this is, the grand negative of his life dying away only weeks before he'd have turned officially adult and thus would have been free to leave anyways.

Changmin contently smokes a cigarette and flicks the ash beside the body on the floor, the buzz of silence the only witness as he crushes the singed filter under his boot's sole.

He lets the front door open when he walks down the street to the nearest public telephone to order help to get rid of the body.


-


Changmin sits down on the sun-bleached and half-rotten wooden patio stairs and lights up a cigarette, when from next door he hears a sudden, loud crash.

He turns his body lazily and listens to the loud yelling immediately following the noise and only a few minutes later, the small boy from next door rushes out his home, ratty sneakers slipping from his hasty feet and a sob leaving his lips. Changmin is unsurprised to see him pressing trembling hands against a bleeding nose, blood dripping down the boy's chin and onto his worn-out shirt.

Changmin smokes two packs of cigarettes, one after one, until he feels the nicotine shock kicking in and his stomach turning sickly to the rhythm of his pulsing vision. He gets up on unsteady legs, a sly grin on his lips even though he feels like vomiting the second he turns to the front door. The boy from next door is still not home and briefly Changmin wonders if he got rid of the blood stains on his cheap cotton shirt.

-

He sells the small house the next day for just enough money to buy an old car, gasoline and a few packs of cigarettes.

The new family that is going to live in the claustrophobic small and hurting world he grew up in is a painful mirror of his own past: a distressed father with blood-shot eyes, a nervous mother in a pale-yellow diners uniform, a small boy clutching his tattered comic-magazines to his chest. When Changmin closes his eyes and leans back in his sitting position on the patio stairs, he can already see the man beating both his wife and son, until the woman runs away and leaves her husband and child behind. For now though, all eyes are still hopeful while they inspect their future home and ignore the young, former owner on their soon-to-be patio steps.

Changmin has two days to pack all his belongings and move out, but he figures he won't even need an hour to do so as he glances at his car keys and cigarette packs. He is waiting for something though, and two more days sound good to him even though he isn't really sure for what he is waiting.


-

The next day Changmin is back on his favorite spot on the patio, a cup of black coffee in his hands, which he carelessly sets down in the hollow space between his bony knees. The movement is unpracticed, his thighs forced to tense just to keep the mug in place, and the liquid is still swaying dangerously in the confines of the cracked cup, but Changmin has no eyes for it as he leans forward in interest and watches the small form of the boy from next door kneeling on his parents' house's dirty back-door steps.

Changmin can only tell by the overfilled trashcans and a pitifully dried-up patch of grass that the boy is at the backside of the house, since there is no sad excuse of a patio on the front and for a moment Changmin is honestly stunned that there actually are even worse places to live than in his own home.

Lighting up a cigarette, he watches the boy shifting on his knees -and only then does he notice that the boy's hands are busy scrubbing the dirt from the few steps he is kneeling on. Without water and soap the task is doomed to fail and Changmin can imagine a rough fist breaking the boy's face in rage as soon as the sun rises high enough to wake the sleeping inhabitants of the boy's home.

He wonders if he should walk over the few steps to the fence separating his property from his neighbors', maybe to help, but more likely to tell the boy that he needs water to clean the dirt away, when he notices that the boy is scrubbing with his bare hands, nails broken and cracked, the skin of his fingertips grinding against the splintery surface of the wooden steps and leaving bloody paths.

The sight has Changmin wincing, his own fingers twitching with phantom pain and without really noticing it he drops his cigarette and gets up on his feet, the forgotten cup of coffee falling down and bursting on the floor with a wet, but surprisingly clear sound. The noise has the boy from next door startling with sudden panic and he looks up with a wild expression on his face when his and Changmin's eyes meet over the ugly chain-link fence separating their lives.

There is terror in the boy's dark eyes which are too huge, too deep for a kid of his age, and Changmin feels painfully reminded of his past, his stomach tightening with something he can't name as he takes in the boy's small and starved form, his beaten face, the still bloody hands.

'Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, don't hurt me...'

The boy is paralyzed with fear, horror so deep that it has him motionless even though Changmin knows it has nothing to do with him. It's the fear, Changmin knows, (remembers), of everything out there adding to the constant pain, because you're alone against the whole world, a world with teeth and claws ready to hurt you anytime.

'Don't hurt me...please, don't hurt me.'

Changmin knows, and with a throat too thick to swallow down the suffocating feeling he can't name he stands motionless, only able to stare at the frozen boy a few steps in front of him, fearful eyes spellbinding him without him being able to do anything against it.

It's a small, agonized sound, barely audible but pushing through the barrier of desperately and tightly shut lips, which has Changmin able to move again. Suddenly back in his body, Changmin wastes no time to turn his body towards his front door- arching hurry in his movements to hide away from the boy's hopeless eyes, to forget what he saw lurking in the depth of that fearful gaze.


When Changmin carefully steps out onto his patio a few hours later, the sun is out already, exhausted, faint-golden rays stubbornly struggling through the ever grey clouds, shimmering arms carefully reaching out to embrace Changmin's shivering body, caressing his cold cheeks as he turns his face sky-wards.

The boy is no longer kneeling at his parents' backdoor for Changmin to observe, but when he moves to sit down on the patio stairs, his eyes fall on a dried puddle of spilled black coffee, the surface still shimmering in it's liquid grace and painfully reminding Changmin of eyes which have him suffering from something he still has no name for.

-


He understands it as soon as he finds the boy from next door weeping and with a broken face sitting on the backside stairs the next day.

It's early morning, the last one Changmin will ever spend in front of this house he so many years long called home. The sun is actually up for once, but still struggling to break through the heavy mists and wads of human exhalation.

Changmin is sitting on his patio, silent and motionless, a forgotten cigarette balancing between his fingers, as he watches the boy sob and cry in misery, tears mixing with blood and snot before running down split and burst lips to drip down the dirty stairs the boy so desperately had tried to clean.

Changmin wonders how many times this will repeat itself again and again before one day the fist striking the boy's face will actually break his soul. He wonders how many times the boy will patch himself back together before the pieces of his body are too shattered to do so. He wonders who will watch the boy bleed and cry on the stairs only to helplessly try to scrub the blood and tears away when he is gone.


Changmin stares and understands. He understands it all.

It's a now or never decision. Changmin crushes his cigarette with his right hand, while his left balances him up on his feet, the motion tilting his whole body forward as if encouraging him to stick to his decision, whispering approval as he makes his way to the crying boy crouched down in front of the dirty backstairs of his pathetic home.

Changmin is beside the boy in mere seconds, feeling as if his whole body is imploding from a sudden, familiar pressure he can't explain, though felt his whole life. The boy doesn't react, in fact, Changmin is sure he did not even notice him standing there right beside his crying body.

Changmin looks around and all he can see is darkness, dirt, the omnipresent sound of misery -a faint background melody he forever ago learned to blend out- but which now echoes even louder in his ears. It's the soundtrack of his life, he realizes... and maybe also this miserable, pathetic boy's...maybe.

But what if a miracle would save him, would take him away from here to somewhere else, where melodies tell a different story, one of comfort and compassion? What if Changmin is the miracle for this one crying boy, a miracle he himself had waited all his life for.

What if he is this boy's yearned miracle taking him away from pain and sadness?

His whole body feels alive with a sudden rush of energy, his eyes bright and sure when he grips the fence separating him from the boy to reach out for the miserably beaten body, hands gripping pale and bruised arms to pull the boy up and against the fence.

Changmin has no eyes for the fear, the misery, the hopelessness as he wraps his arms around the startled boy, lifting him up and over the fence, taking him away from the pain and endless suffering by offering him a whole new world.

The boy doesn't struggle when Changmin wordlessly leads him to his car and gently pushes him inside, only bleeds and cries soundlessly and Changmin vaguely remembers the long ago days when he had been sure that whatever would happen next couldn't be worse than how life had already been.

He keeps that in mind, a silent promise to himself, as he searches for his keys and starts the motor.

Inside the car, Changmin takes the boy's hand and it's the first ray of the rising sun, a droplet of warmth in a cool and early summer's night, a silent glow deep within their togetherness, here and now.

They leave the dirt and darkness behind, the small whispers of misery fading into an echo of the night as they never turn back.

There is no life left in Yunho.
So he puts everything what is left of him in Changmin's hands,
suffering soul trying to cut free from an abused shell.
But there is something in Changmin's eyes,
something that touches Yunho's shattered soul enough to keep it whole,
and Yunho figures it might be all the life he is missing
laying in Changmin's dark eyes for him to claim, open and trusting,
a world without hurt and sadness.



-


The boy's name is Yunho and he is fourteen years old- Changmin learns that by day three of their silent journey through passing landscapes.

The sceneries change, cities at first, then endless hours of earth-colored fields, and finally the brilliant colors of summer Changmin yearned to see: yellow, gold, rich green and he sees Yunho's lifeless eyes lighting up as he watches the passing sunflowers framing the small country road they are driving upon.

Changmin stops the car then, carefully stepping out and stretching his legs, before gently pulling Yunho with him. The boy looks up at him with huge eyes, his small face unsure but cautious, dark eyes darting up and down Changmin's form to not miss a twitch of the older boy's body and Changmin tries to be especially carefully when he moves to hold the boy's hand.

There is fear in Yunho's eyes, but resignation too, and Changmin knows the boy is submitting to fate, taking everything that is about to come at him silently and without a fight, because he just doesn't know better and because all his life long the constant pain had been enough of a reminder that it is always better not to fight back. That it hurts that much less if you just submit and take the inevitable strike silently and prepared.

Changmin wordlessly leads the boy inside the open field of sunflowers, his soft smile a promise of everything being alright and the gently waving plants around them reassuring Yunho of the idyllic moment. The sunflowers are high enough to swallow up their forms and after they walk a few meters field-in the car and road are hidden behind a wall of living green.

Changmin closes his eyes and breathes in the aromatic air of summer. The rays of the sun are pure gold, shimmering warm and itching his pale skin alive. When he turns to smile at Yunho, Changmin's breath hitches at the way the boy is bathed in specks of softly and breeze-waving green, flickering gold and floating shadows- pale lilac on Yunho's skin.

He is beautiful, and Changmin can't help but stare a little, his eyes taking in how the soft colors seem to dance upon Yunho's skin, how summer itself tries to kiss life into the abused paleness that is the small boy standing motionless in the vast and waving field of sunflowers.

Everything is muted but so alive and Changmin watches Yunho looking up and around with unsure eyes, pale cheeks coloring every so slightly pink as he takes in the pure joy of living all around him.

For this boy, who grew up in a world of grey and hurt, who possibly had not even his mother's pale-yellow diner's uniform to clutch onto, for Yunho this utter delight of being right here right now of everything breathing surrounding them is so new, so unknown.

Changmin remembers the days even exhaling had been so tiring, how it had felt like adding to the dullness oppressing everything lively and joyful, and he quietly wonders if Yunho can tell similar stories. In his head he can see the boy trying to breathe as flat as possible only to keep the grayness in, only to hinder the hazes of pain and resignation to float up and suffocate the only colors left in their miserable small world. Changmin is somewhat sure that Yunho would rather stop breathing if only the delight of being alive, this brilliant spark of something wild and beautiful won't get extinguished by the dullness both he and Changmin carry deep within.

They stop when there is only sunflowers and the sky around them, when their breathing and the gently swaying plants are the only things they can hear, when the vast field becomes the center of the universe.

Yunho's small hand is warm and heavy in Changmin's and he can't help but squeeze it a little, enjoying the way the boy unconsciously leans closer at the caring gesture. They stand perfectly still, enjoying the idyllic peacefulness of their little world- and maybe their togetherness, but Changmin isn't too sure about that. After all the pain Yunho carries with him is still so fresh, scars open and bleeding while Changmin had years to layer and mask, to repress and forget.

It is nice to be with Yunho though, even though the boy probably still isn't used to company without pain. Changmin closes his eyes and tries to remember the days the whole world had been an enemy, but with Yunho beside him and summer and peaceful living surrounding them he can't- and a part of him hopes that Yunho can at least remember the beauty and wholeness of this moment.

Whitewashing the darkness, Changmin knows, is something that doesn't help, doesn't make the pain go away, this is why he hopes so much for Yunho to paint over his dark past with the brilliant colors embracing them. He tries to encourage the boy with unspoken words, putting promises and reassurance in the soft touch of their hands.

They stay hand in hand, side by side in the field until the sun sets, and Changmin thinks that the honey-golden rays of the sun look most beautiful when dancing upon Yunho's skin.


From the corners of his eyes, Yunho glances at Changmin,
a faint blush tinting his cheeks. More than anything else,
Changmin is the summer, Changmin is life. Yunho bites his lips
as he tries to hide a faint and hopeful smile.

-



It is night when Changmin leads the way back to the car and unsurprisingly it is still standing where they left it- keys and Changmin's few belongings still inside, behind unlocked doors.

They wordlessly sit down, Yunho immediately curling up on the passenger's seat, but for once his face seems calm- still a bit expressionless, but Changmin can see the omnipresent sadness in his huge brown eyes fading, a small, lively light flickering in the dark depth.

It's good enough, Changmin thinks while starting the motor and searching for his pack of cigarettes. When he lights it up he watches the orange of the small flame dispelling the shadows on Yunho's young face and Changmin leans back on his driver's seat, smoking contently while driving them through the night.

Yunho's small hand reaches out for Changmin's that night
and in the sudden warmth that spreads over his tingling skin,
Changmin feels something he thought lost until now, and it makes him smile.

-


It is day five- or actually night five when the nightmares start.

Changmin did not see them coming, but when he wakes up to a silently crying, desperately trashing Yunho he is hardly surprised.

For a small moment he watches tears rolling down damp cheeks, Yunho's body shuddering and jerking on the passenger's seat, before Changmin moves to pull the boy against his body. The movement has Yunho panicking –but Changmin predicted as much and quickly rocks the desperate body into his lap, squirming a bit at the tight fit of two bodies behind the driving wheel.

The only thing that ever helps, Changmin remembers, is something, someone, leading away from the pain and darkness, but as real as he is, he can't follow Yunho into his dreams to take his hand and run away with him. So he whispers against a small ear as emphatic as possible:


”I'm here, Yunho....I'm right here. I won't let them hurt you, I'm here for you...”


Even though Changmin can relate and remembers his mother holding him and whispering promises in his ear, it is still fascinating how Yunho stills after a few heartbeats, labored breathing evening out and tears drying on his cheeks, before the boy sighs in exhaustion and snuggles closer for more warmth- unconsciously searching for protection.

Changmin holds Yunho's strangely vulnerable body through the night and only when it dawns he allows his heavy eyelids to flutter close.

When the sun is high enough to wake them both, Yunho wordlessly climbs from Changmin's lap back onto his seat. They never talk about the night, but Changmin can see a faint blush tinting the boy's usually pale cheeks a soft pink.

Yunho cups his cheeks with his palms, Changmin's warmth against his skin an echo of the night.
He can feel the shadows of their closeness embracing his small body and it makes him arch for something
he never knew existed, not until Changmin came and saved him from the darkness.
The thought makes his heart beating faster painfully,
and Yunho never felt so alive, never felt so whole when he feels something warm growing inside of him,
sending steady pulses of warmth through his body whenever he steals quick enough glances
to stare at Changmin without getting noticed.


-


It's not easy, but eventually there is trust in Yunho's eyes. Changmin knows it is more than that, a feeling which goes beyond everything the boy has ever allowed himself to feel. But there is a world of everything in Changmin's eyes, a promise of something else and better, and Yunho can't help but hope even though it is something he so very long ago had tried so hard to forget.

By day eleven Yunho's bruises and the cuts all over his small face have faded and Changmin admires the unimpaired beauty of the boy's facial features. Yunho is beautiful, but it's something Changmin already knew, still he can't help but let his eyes wander, catching himself too often staring at the boy in wonder, his heart jerking whenever he snaps out of his trance.

The car is parked at another small country road's parking lane and Changmin is enjoying his breakfast of canned black coffee and a cigarette while Yunho softly sucks on the straw stuck through his pack of strawberry soy-milk Changmin bought him when he had stopped at a petrol station a few hours ago.

The coffee tastes cheap and bitter, but Changmin hardly notices, eyes glued on Yunho's puffed out cheeks hollowing occasionally to suck on the stray, full lips glistening with an almost translucent wet pinkish layer of milk and big eyes unfocused and dazed.

It is not the first time Changmin watches the boy enjoying something sweet he bought him, but still his mouth runs dry at the way the boy is so lost in his obvious pleasure. The display of pleased emotion is so blatantly visible on Yunho's face and a small part of Changmin wonders if the boy really never ate something as sweet as flavored soy-milk while another part of him is busy swallowing with a way too tight throat.

Changmin briefly wonders when the care and pity and worry he first felt for the boy turned into adoration and then lust. He watches the boy letting go of the straw with his lips, droplets of pink milk falling on Yunho's soft lower lip as the air rushes back into the small package with spluttering sounds. A pink tongue is quick to lick the wetness away and Changmin hardly suppresses a groan, quickly taking another drag of his cigarette when Yunho turns to look at him.

There is a small moment of painful silence- painful, because Changmin feels as if the air in the car is suddenly squeezing his chest too tight, before Yunho's soft voice cut's through it, pulling Changmin out of his soundless misery with the most simple choice of words:

”Thank you...” ...and a fleeting, nervous smile.


And quite suddenly, it's easy to breathe again.

Yunho imagines kindness to taste as sweet as sugar melting on the tip of his tongue.
When he looks at Changmin, all he can feel is the same tingling sensation washing down his spine
and heating up his body like when the first drop of sugary sweetness hit his tongue.
Kindness, Yunho learns later, is the flavor of life just because Changmin is his life.


-


It is still summer, Changmin thinks, but the nights get colder and there is the faintest prospect of an early autumn in the air.

Changmin can smell it in the early morning hours when the air is still damp and morning dew pearls on the front-screen of his car. He can feel it in the way Yunho's body leans over at night to be near his warmth as the faint cold seeps in and tries to steal him from his dreams.

Changmin knows that he will have to drive somewhere warm and civilized with Yunho sooner or later, but for now he holds the boy against his own body, stubbornly clinging onto the freedom and endless roads leading them as far away as they want.

Changmin feels as if the darkness will reach out for them, swallow them up and spit them back out to where they came from should they decide to leave the roads and stand still, so he starts the car morning after morning, passes villages and small cities -never stopping but keeping them moving and unreachable.

It goes on like this for a while and everything is good, summer still warming their cool skin whenever they wake up cuddled up together and never mentioning it while stretching their cramped limbs, but then Yunho catches a cold and everything changes.

Yunho doesn't know when things start to change.
Eventually it feels natural to wake in Changmin's warm embrace,
the older boy's scent tickling his nostrils and making him smile.
The scent in the air changes with the passing season,
but Changmin stays the same.
Yunho closes his eyes and allows himself to wish for Changmin to always stay the same.

-


The freedom is not gone but it is confined in the four small walls of a cheap hotel room Changmin booked for a few nights in his panic.

There is no window and Changmin paces up and down in worry to the tact of Yunho's dry coughing, the boy's pale face a stark contrast against the ugly-bright neon colors of the clammy bedsheets he wrapped the boy in. Changmin is sure that the boy would probably feel much better if there was a window to let sunshine and the sky in to wash away the paleness of Yunho's skin with the strong colors of the outside world.

Changmin doesn't know how much more Yunho's body can endure and the thought frightens him. As bad as his childhood was, Changmin at least had a mother caring long enough for him to get him vaccinated against anything that could possibly harm him.

At night when Changmin wakes from confusing and exhausting dreams he finds his limbs tangled with Yunho's, the boy's arms tightly around Changmin's body, fingers clutching the older boy's shirt. Somehow Yunho's peaceful face calms him down enough to find more restful sleep and he smiles a little when he too wraps his arms around Yunho's small frame only to hear the boy sigh softly against the skin of Changmin's chest.

Days pass though, and Yunho's health only worsens, a stubborn fever getting higher and his coughs now accompanied by thickly wet intakes of air passing through infected lungs.

Changmin fears for the worst, Yunho constantly pale and occasionally dead in his dizzy and exhausted moments of sleep whenever his eyes drop shut while he lies beside Yunho and holds the boy's small hand in his own. He only understands that the worst can be so many different things when after four days the dry fever finally breaks and leaves Yunho shivering and pale but conscious on the fifth day.

Yunho's eyes are wide open and unfocused on the sixth day, full lips cracked and blistered at the corners and his voice is hoarse, barely there as he begs Changmin for water. The next few hours Changmin watches faint colors returning back and repainting the boys pale face, but his relieve is short-lived when he carefully sits Yunho up and helps him standing on his feet- only to have the boy falling onto the floor with a surprised cry as soon as he lets go. Changmin hurries to pull the boy up again, cursing as Yunho starts sobbing and then gasping soundlessly in horror when his left knee buckles and collapses- making the boy lose balance again with a staggered scream.



It is late at night when Yunho finally stops crying and when Changmin finally accepts what Yunho understood the second his legs gave away: There is no feeling whatsoever left in his left leg from his knee downwards and Changmin understands that the fever, which must have settled in the boy's leg, has left him even more vulnerable and miserable than before.

Changmin hopes it's a fleeting thing, Yunho knows better than to hope.

There is pain, there is so much pain and Yunho is afraid,
so scared and terrified, skin stripped off and laying open and vulnerable
in the palm of Changmin's hand.
But the older boy just holds him close even when he so clearly is deemed defect and useless.
He just holds him close. And Yunho finds himself closing his his tear-blurred eyes,
leaning back against the strong chest and trusting the warm arms holding him safe.

-


Autumn comes and goes and then it is winter and Changmin's money is just enough for another fill of gasoline for their car.

Yunho is oddly silent when Changmin carries him out and downstairs on his back and then gently sits him down on the passenger's seat, small fingers only gently playing with the hair-end he finds in Changmin's nape. He pays it no mind though- concentrating to get the car started, because he wants to drive away as fast as possible- preferably before the owner of the hotel misses the blankets and pillows in what used to be their room for two month. He carefully wraps them around Yunho's shivering body, but knows that they will not be enough to keep the boy warm.

It is cold in the car and Changmin watches Yunho soundlessly blowing hot air to create threats of fleeting steam. There must be little to no warmth from it, but Yunho still patiently tries for a few more moments before he pouts and looks down on his shivering hands. Changmin automatically reaches for the heater, praying to all gods he knows that it will work to warm them up a little- if only to have Yunho not freezing until they reach their destination.

Their destination.

Changmin frowns a little as he focuses on that thought before quickly dismissing it. There is no destination, only a vague dream, an idea of what he wants, of what he wishes to offer Yunho.

Changmin starts the motor of the car -and to his surprise it jerks alive at the first try, the heater also snapping loudly into action as soon as he turns the key. He has to smile a little when he catches Yunho's soft lips widening ever so slightly into a phantom of a smile, before the boy tentatively stretches his hands to where a warm stream of air floats out into the cold space of the car.


-



There s no money, no money, no money left and Changmin's heart aches when he realizes what he has to do.


”But this is not the end of us. I swear, this is not the end of us, Yunho.”

-


The city lights are beautiful, illuminating the night around them with soundless grace and leading the way from afar, but Changmin slows the car down a bit.

The city is still far, he knows, the lights they can see only a mirror of reflected brightness in the foggy air around them, but he feels as if time is running, feels as if the endless roads he has grown to love are getting cut short in front of him, forcing him to stop to a standstill he does not feel ready to face.

Beside him, Yunho is painfully oblivious to his dark thoughts. Eyes wide and teeth chattering from the cold he watches threads of light dancing in the sky, intensifying with every meter they drive. Its obvious that the boy never saw a city this huge, and Changmin forces himself to smile a little, trying to feel happy for Yunho.

It's the coldest night of the year so far, a year Changmin realizes he spent with Yunho, a year in which not even one day had hurt or felt like a waste- and that thought calms him down somehow, his eyes glancing at Yunho who still watches illuminated clouds floating above the city.

Their car hits an intercity soon enough and Changmin bites his lips for a moment, eyes checking their decreasing gasoline before quickly darting back to the street.

He has no money, no money at all, but he can't take this away from Yunho, can't take this away from himself when finally they escaped the darkness, when finally they are free enough.

Maybe, Changmin thinks, maybe Yunho's sickness was a lead by god, maybe there is no other way around it this time, maybe from the beginning they only drove down those countless roads to end up right here, right now.

Just when the first snowflakes start to fall from the sky, Changmin thinks of sunflowers and summer dancing upon Yunho's skin. He thinks of the small hands searching for his warmth at night and the delicate body leaning close to his own when the night falls. With a small sigh he turns his car right, leaving the intercity just before the first suburbs, body relaxing when the car drives on another country road far away up to leave the city behind them.

Changmin only stops the car when the city lies beautiful and sleeping in front of them, the car parked on top of a hill far above the city lights.

Yunho tilts his head in silent wonder as he turns to Changmin, eyes huge and questioning when Changmin reaches out and takes one small hand in his own. The smile he gives the boy is a little bit forced, but Changmin hopes that Yunho doesn't notice when he locks the doors and shuts down the motor. He keeps the keys in and turned though, the heater running on battery now. And Changmin sends a little prayer that it will last through the night.

“Are we sleeping here for the night?” Yunho's voice is soft, kind of cute Changmin thinks, the older boy still amazed by the soft touch of gentleness in it since he did not hear Yunho voice out his thoughts that often. The sound of it floats through the small space of the car, swirling beautifully in Changmin's mind and he only nods as an answer, not wanting to add his own voice to the soundless music around them.

Yunho's eyes are wide with trust and the boy willingly leans back against his seat, eyes looking out the front screen to watch the endless dance of snowflakes on their way down to earth.

They breathe silently like that, Yunho lost in the moment and Changmin lost staring at the boy beside him. When the heater's steady hum of hot air gets quieter and quieter until it dulls down completely, Changmin reaches out for Yunho's hand, holding it warm in his own.

Changmin stares down at the beautiful city lights in front of him, still illuminating the night around them. He glances up at the sky, a brilliant mess of dancing white, before he looks back down at Yunho, beauty nothing can compare with.

The small hand in his gives a faint squeeze and Changmin's eyes lock with Yunho's, breath hitching at the silent content he finds there, a faint layer of happiness shining beautifully through Yunho's very soul.

Changmin thinks it is good to be alive and he feels whole and warm, Yunho's small hand slipping from his, but Changmin doesn't notice, the edges of his vision blurring behind closed lids and he can see summer and colors, and Yunho beside him holding his hand and smiling widely, golden sunlight dancing upon their skin.

He is not alone, he thinks, and that thought makes him happy, because maybe...maybe Yunho feels the same, good to be alive and together, good to be here with him.

Changmin holds onto that thought when he falls asleep, happy and warm, and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.



Yunho thinks that Changmin will probably never know
how much he means for him, how much Yunho feels for him.
But that's alright actually, it makes Yunho smile ever so softly,
when he thinks about the promises he read in Changmin's eyes.

Changmin is the first one to fall asleep that night
and Yunho carefully leans forward, small body struggling
in the paralyzing cold when he clasps Changmin's cold hand
with his own, body stretching a little bit more until he can
lay his trembling lips upon Changmin's.

The small act costs him almost all his energy
and Yunho slumps down against Changmin's chest,
eyes feeling heavier than ever when he peacefully falls asleep.
His last thought however is a memory, beautiful and free,
him and Changmin hand in hand in a sunflower field and Yunho thinks:

'How beautiful, so much life...' before everything blurs out.


They are untouchable now and the darkness can't get them anymore.


”This is not the end of us, this is not the end of us


Photobucket


-


A/N: Changmin is 17-18 and Yunho is 14, just in case you missed the info :'D

So. quite tragic this one, isn't it? But still I really don't remember if I ever wrote something as fluffy as this /headdesk.
Anyways, this is for [livejournal.com profile] vaguelynormal who wanted MinHo.
-Sorry if this wasn't what you were hoping for bb :'D

I started writing this after listening to Bruno Mars' “Marry You” ...I bet no one could tell
since this was supposed to have a spontaneous and happy feeling, but from the beginning
I totally failed capturing it, which is why I am thinking about a more happy MinChun version...bidk.

PS: I'd try marking the whole text, maybe there is more than you can see at the first sight between the lines? :)

picture credits to whoever made and uploaded it on tumblr- I'll credit adequately once i
know the source /tumblr noob :'D

xoxo, love you all



 
 
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