[KPOP RPS] One shot: London, New York, Paris, Tokyo (I’ll call you wherever you go) {dbsk}
Title: London, New York, Paris, Tokyo (I’ll call you wherever you go)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Warnings: None
Word count: 1, 056
Summary: “Yunho? Are you there? Are you OK?” Jaejoong’s voice sounded concerned and still too far away. It made Yunho’s heart hurt because all he wanted to do was reach out and take hold of Jaejoong’s hand. “I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry.”
A/N: Written for
kpop_prompts prompt #13 Phone. My prompt table can be found here.
London, New York, Paris, Tokyo (I’ll call you wherever you go)
Looking back, Yunho isn’t sure why he picked up the phone call. The caller ID showed only unfamiliar numbers and the coordi Noona’s were shouting at him for still having his phone with him at all.
Maybe he only answered it as an excuse to escape the melee for five minutes. If he pretended the call was important enough then maybe he could disappear off to a dark corner for some peace.
So that’s what he did.
He was expecting or to be a telemarketer, maybe someone with the wrong number. Or maybe he was expecting it to be Changmin, ringing him to tell him he’d changed his number again—even though he was only in the next room.
He wasn’t expecting Jaejoong.
The sound of the first hesitant ‘Hello’ hit him like a physical blow. A gut punch. He opened his mouth in the vain hope of offering up some kind of response, but he found he had no breath with which to answer. Suddenly it felt like he had no breath left in his body, in the room, in the world. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to sit down but there wasn’t a chair, so he let the wall take his weight because his trembling legs refused to hold him up any longer.
“Yunho?” Jaejoong’s voice crackled over the receiver. It sounded tinny and distorted—like even the latest technology with crystal clear sound couldn’t disguise the fact that he and Jaejoong were miles and miles apart. Frantically he thought back to the last press release he’d read about JYJ’s activities, he tried to remember where they said Jaejoong was now. Brazil maybe, possibly Europe. He didn’t know, he couldn’t think straight.
Breathing. Breathing was still an issue.
“Yunho? Are you there? Are you OK?” Jaejoong’s voice sounded concerned and still too far away. It made Yunho’s heart hurt because all he wanted to do was reach out and take hold of Jaejoong’s hand. “I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry.”
“NO!” Yunho Shouted, startling even himself with how loud his voice was when he finally found it. “No, Jae. Don’t hang up!”
Silence. Yunho listened to Jaejoong’s breathing, sharp, jagged breaths. Like Jaejoong was fighting for air too. Sometimes, sometimes distance could be suffocating.
Conversations shouldn’t be this hard.
There were a lot of things that Yunho wanted to say, needed to say, needed to know. There were a few questions that Yunho would probably always be afraid to ask and answers he would never want to hear.
The silence stretched on towards forever, and then Yunho heard someone calling out his name.
“They’re calling me, I have to go.” Yunho said quietly. Then he repeated it again louder because he was afraid that his voice wouldn’t carry across the miles that separated them. “I miss you.” Yunho said. “Jae, I miss you.” And then he hung up because he was afraid of what Jaejoong would say in return.
He turned off his phone and left it in that dark little corner. He half hoped that Jaejoong would call back and leave a message. The last voice mail he had from Jaejoong was two years old and Jaejoong’s voice had changed in strength and timbre since then.
He looked at the phone like it was a living, breathing thing that would snap and bite him if he reached out and touched it again. Yunho’s last words still rang in his ears like the echoes of a dying church bell.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
His mouth felt dry, his throat felt raw, and something that felt a lot like hope started to claw its way into his heart. It hurt. It hurt to hope.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
Jaejoong stood and started pacing the room in an already well-worn circuit; he retraced the path he’d walked while trying to get up the courage to dial Yunho’s number.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
Jaejoong didn’t realize he was smiling until he caught sight of his almost manic expression in the mirror. He wanted to call Yunho back and tell him he loved him, but he thought that confession might be too much for both of them to handle right now.
He stopped his pacing and sat down, only to spring to his feet seconds later to resume his shuffle around the room. Suddenly his too luxurious hotel room felt too small. It was too cramped, too stuffy, there was no air in here and Jaejoong desperately needed to breathe. He could hear Yoochun and Junsu talking and laughing in the room next door but he didn’t feel like going to join them. The storm that raged inside his head wouldn’t let him be still and the unseasonable storm that raged out the window wouldn’t let him go outside.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
The phone didn’t bit him when he picked it back up, but it did feel hot, heavy. Jaejoong clutched it to his chest like it was a lifeline.
Yunho never changed his number; Jaejoong didn’t know why he waited so long to call.
When he dialled Yunho’s number again it went straight to voice mail, Jaejoong tried to tell himself that it didn’t mean anything. Yunho was busy, they both were. He traced the garish pattern on the arm of the sofa with his finger while he waited for Yunho’s voice mail message to play out. He listened to the rich tone of Yunho’s voice and he tried to fool himself into believing that his heart didn’t skip a beat. By the time he heard the soft beep he had forgotten half of what he wanted to say.
“I miss you too.” The words came out in a breathless rush so Jaejoong coughed and repeated them louder, clearer, because he wanted to make sure that Yunho really understood him.
Then he hung up, he would talk to Yunho again. They would talk.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
.end
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Warnings: None
Word count: 1, 056
Summary: “Yunho? Are you there? Are you OK?” Jaejoong’s voice sounded concerned and still too far away. It made Yunho’s heart hurt because all he wanted to do was reach out and take hold of Jaejoong’s hand. “I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry.”
A/N: Written for
kpop_prompts prompt #13 Phone. My prompt table can be found here.London, New York, Paris, Tokyo (I’ll call you wherever you go)
I. Yunho: It’s easy to feel alone in a crowded room.
Looking back, Yunho isn’t sure why he picked up the phone call. The caller ID showed only unfamiliar numbers and the coordi Noona’s were shouting at him for still having his phone with him at all.
Maybe he only answered it as an excuse to escape the melee for five minutes. If he pretended the call was important enough then maybe he could disappear off to a dark corner for some peace.
So that’s what he did.
He was expecting or to be a telemarketer, maybe someone with the wrong number. Or maybe he was expecting it to be Changmin, ringing him to tell him he’d changed his number again—even though he was only in the next room.
He wasn’t expecting Jaejoong.
The sound of the first hesitant ‘Hello’ hit him like a physical blow. A gut punch. He opened his mouth in the vain hope of offering up some kind of response, but he found he had no breath with which to answer. Suddenly it felt like he had no breath left in his body, in the room, in the world. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to sit down but there wasn’t a chair, so he let the wall take his weight because his trembling legs refused to hold him up any longer.
“Yunho?” Jaejoong’s voice crackled over the receiver. It sounded tinny and distorted—like even the latest technology with crystal clear sound couldn’t disguise the fact that he and Jaejoong were miles and miles apart. Frantically he thought back to the last press release he’d read about JYJ’s activities, he tried to remember where they said Jaejoong was now. Brazil maybe, possibly Europe. He didn’t know, he couldn’t think straight.
Breathing. Breathing was still an issue.
“Yunho? Are you there? Are you OK?” Jaejoong’s voice sounded concerned and still too far away. It made Yunho’s heart hurt because all he wanted to do was reach out and take hold of Jaejoong’s hand. “I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry.”
“NO!” Yunho Shouted, startling even himself with how loud his voice was when he finally found it. “No, Jae. Don’t hang up!”
Silence. Yunho listened to Jaejoong’s breathing, sharp, jagged breaths. Like Jaejoong was fighting for air too. Sometimes, sometimes distance could be suffocating.
Conversations shouldn’t be this hard.
There were a lot of things that Yunho wanted to say, needed to say, needed to know. There were a few questions that Yunho would probably always be afraid to ask and answers he would never want to hear.
The silence stretched on towards forever, and then Yunho heard someone calling out his name.
“They’re calling me, I have to go.” Yunho said quietly. Then he repeated it again louder because he was afraid that his voice wouldn’t carry across the miles that separated them. “I miss you.” Yunho said. “Jae, I miss you.” And then he hung up because he was afraid of what Jaejoong would say in return.
He turned off his phone and left it in that dark little corner. He half hoped that Jaejoong would call back and leave a message. The last voice mail he had from Jaejoong was two years old and Jaejoong’s voice had changed in strength and timbre since then.
II. Jaejoong: Not the loneliest number.
He looked at the phone like it was a living, breathing thing that would snap and bite him if he reached out and touched it again. Yunho’s last words still rang in his ears like the echoes of a dying church bell.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
His mouth felt dry, his throat felt raw, and something that felt a lot like hope started to claw its way into his heart. It hurt. It hurt to hope.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
Jaejoong stood and started pacing the room in an already well-worn circuit; he retraced the path he’d walked while trying to get up the courage to dial Yunho’s number.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
Jaejoong didn’t realize he was smiling until he caught sight of his almost manic expression in the mirror. He wanted to call Yunho back and tell him he loved him, but he thought that confession might be too much for both of them to handle right now.
He stopped his pacing and sat down, only to spring to his feet seconds later to resume his shuffle around the room. Suddenly his too luxurious hotel room felt too small. It was too cramped, too stuffy, there was no air in here and Jaejoong desperately needed to breathe. He could hear Yoochun and Junsu talking and laughing in the room next door but he didn’t feel like going to join them. The storm that raged inside his head wouldn’t let him be still and the unseasonable storm that raged out the window wouldn’t let him go outside.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
The phone didn’t bit him when he picked it back up, but it did feel hot, heavy. Jaejoong clutched it to his chest like it was a lifeline.
Yunho never changed his number; Jaejoong didn’t know why he waited so long to call.
When he dialled Yunho’s number again it went straight to voice mail, Jaejoong tried to tell himself that it didn’t mean anything. Yunho was busy, they both were. He traced the garish pattern on the arm of the sofa with his finger while he waited for Yunho’s voice mail message to play out. He listened to the rich tone of Yunho’s voice and he tried to fool himself into believing that his heart didn’t skip a beat. By the time he heard the soft beep he had forgotten half of what he wanted to say.
“I miss you too.” The words came out in a breathless rush so Jaejoong coughed and repeated them louder, clearer, because he wanted to make sure that Yunho really understood him.
Then he hung up, he would talk to Yunho again. They would talk.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
.end