Indian Summer (Yoochun/Junsu)

He drops in at an ungodly hour.

“A bit late, don’t you think?” Junsu is rubbing his eyes as he leans into the doorframe. Yoochun smiles at the sight, holding up a finger with keys jingling from it.

“It’s never too late,” he says. “Wanna go for a spin?”





Junsu blinks awake at the sight of Yoochun’s ride, a sleek Mercedes convertible that glints under the dimness of the streetlights. Yoochun explains that he bought it just the week before, saw it in the showroom and fell – hurtled – straight into love. “Couldn’t leave without it,” he says, and they’re on their way.

Their camaraderie is easy, the way it always is with them. Junsu turns on the radio, and The Way U Are comes on. They belt their parts and mimic Changmin’s high notes and Jaejoong’s smooth vocals. Junsu attempts a Yunho-esque move in the leather seat. Yoochun laughs and tells him to put on the damn seatbelt.

“I miss those days,” Junsu says merrily, the last of fatigue ebbing out of his system as he watches the scenery pass by. Tall buildings to suburban houses, until all that is left is greenery and open sky. “Where are we going?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Yoochun says. “Maybe I’m stealing you away.”

Eukyangkyang, and Yoochun feels the corner of his lips twitch in amusement. Once upon a time he would have rolled his eyes at the high-pitched sound; right now he thinks it could have been a line to a love song. Wind in his ears, and Junsu is still laughing –

“Ahoy, then.” Junsu tilts his head up to the sky - “let’s see how far you take me.”





“Sorry,” Yoochun says. “For not coming to the party.”

Junsu cranes his neck and kind of smiles. “It’s alright. Jaejoong told me.” A pause. “I expected as much.”

“I wanted to come,” Yoochun says, keeping his eyes on the dull stretch of road. “I was choosing my suit.” He cracks a grin. “I don’t just order them off mannequins.”

“Shut up,” Junsu says with an unconscious pout. “If I did it your way I would have missed my own party.”

“Was it any fun?”

Junsu looks like he’s thinking about it. “Would have been better with you there.” He cackles a little. “We tied Changmin to the lamp post.”

“Naked?”

“No, Yunho wouldn’t let us. That’s why it would’ve been better with you there.”

The two of them snort with laughter, and Yoochun can’t help the easy smile that now holds his lips captive. One minute, two minutes, five and ten - and he’s still trapped within that bubble of happiness as Junsu hums under his breath, a jumble of melodies and lost lyrics.





“I haven’t seen the sunrise in years.” Their seats are flattened so that they are lying on their backs and staring up at an almost brown sky. “Isn’t it weird? Even though we hardly sleep, we don’t see the sunrise much.”

“That’s because we’re always too busy filming something,” Yoochun says, and the other man chuckles at the memory. The air around them is chilly enough to bite into their skin, and there is nothing between them but the sound of crickets and gentle breeze. Junsu turns slightly so that he is facing Yoochun. Their fingers curl into each other’s, the loose contact sending shivers down Yoochun’s spine. Junsu’s eyes are shiny even in the dull light of morning.

“You’re right,” he says after a long moment. “It’s never too late.”

Yoochun tugs gently at the strands of brown sticking out behind Junsu’s ear, letting his fingers linger there. Junsu watches him with an almost wistful smile.

“Tell me not to go through with it.” His voice is low, the words caught in air between them. Yoochun feels his breath still as Junsu’s soft gaze meets his own. “Tell me,” he repeats quietly. “And I’ll call it off.”

“Junsu-yah.”

“I won’t marry her.” Junsu’s breaths are shallow, warm against Yoochun’s. “If you tell me you don’t want me to.”

Yoochun’s fingers slip from the strands of his hair and onto Junsu’s cheekbone, brushes gently over an eyebrow before his hand rests against the side of Junsu’s face. It almost shocks him sometimes, he thinks, how familiar he is with every part of Junsu. The crook of his neck, the curve of his lips; the way his cheeks blush when he is excited or happy, the way he looks just before he laughs. The lines of his eyes in a smile and in tears.

“You love her.” Yoochun thumbs gently at Junsu’s lower lip, and he feels the other man shiver slightly at the touch. He manages a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “…I won’t be your mistake, Junsu-yah.”

They lie there like this, Junsu’s hand clasped in Yoochun’s as the sky turns orange and blue. Junsu exhales like he understands, and he closes his eyes.





“Yah, yah, there it is!”

Yoochun doesn’t answer, only stays still and lets the morning rays soak into his skin. Junsu sits up, squinting into the lightening sky. He turns slightly and his eyes lock with Yoochun’s as the sun fills the horizon at the back of Junsu’s head.

Then Junsu smiles. The sheer beauty of it warms Yoochun’s chest, steals his breath as much as it steals his heart. He feels the words at the tip of his tongue – don’t marry her. Don’t, Junsu-yah - but he looks at Junsu’s open face, the innocence within brown eyes and pale cheeks and he’s too busy falling in love all over again. His voice catches in his throat as Junsu leans in.

“You’re my best friend, Yoochun-ah,” Junsu murmurs against his skin.

I know. Yoochun closes his eyes briefly, and then almost out of habit he manages the slow, teasing grin that belongs only to Junsu - “I’m the best you never had.”

A resounding smack and a shriek of laughter, yells of “you greasy ass” and “stop hitting me” filling the air - and then Junsu is on top of Yoochun and kissing him, grasping onto Yoochun’s shoulders like he never wants to let go. Hold on, Junsu seems to say as his lips move desperately over Yoochun’s. Hold on just awhile, please –

And so Yoochun does, holds on to Junsu (his best friend, his music, his heart) and kisses him over and over until the sky turns blue.





The car pulls over at the side of Junsu’s apartment block. Yoochun glances at his watch. “You’ll have enough time to get to church,” he says, his tone light.

Junsu nods, undoing his seatbelt and letting out a soft breath. Above them the sky is a clear blue, the streets coloured by sunlight. Yoochun sees the insecurity in his eyes, and he squeezes gently at Junsu’s hand. “You’ll be alright,” he says, tweaking the other’s nose affectionately. “My responsible, adorable Kim Junsu.”

Junsu chuckles softly. “And you’ll be okay, too,” he says, voice slightly hoarse now. “My greasy, idiotic Park Yoochun.”

Perhaps in another time, Yoochun thinks as they watch each other. Maybe one day you’ll come back to me, Junsu-yah. Not today, but maybe, just maybe –

“You’ll be there, won’t you, Yoochun-ah?” Junsu had stepped out of his car, the sunlight pressing into the strands of his brown hair and turning them gold. He’s so beautiful, Yoochun thinks, fingers tightening around his steering wheel and he feels it, knows he is falling in love all over again - God, Junsu-yah. Don’t marry her, don’t, please -

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”