ay ay, I'm not feeling very well lately so not doing very good at keeping up with things, but because of said crapness, I felt called to write a ficlet (it was supposed to be a drabble but it grew) for my mimei-senpai because she is feeling crap too and I am too crap to keep in proper contact with her these days. Anyway, this is in the DBSK/THSK fandom, which, for those of you who don't know, is a Korean boy-band. DON'T ask me to explain how I got into this fandom, it shames me. But, hopefully this will put a smile on mimei's face so there. Deal. (or like, don't read it, it's no skin off my back.)

For those who do know, this is a Future-AU, PG, YooSu. 967 words. (I feel like there should be a special flag-warning thing for PG stuff now! WATCH OUT! THERE'S NOTHING MUCH TO SCAR CHILDREN IN THIS POST! OH NOES!)


Rumours
~
By Page Russet



There were rumours. Rumours of a break up. Rumours of money and retirement and ending things before the band became a lukewarm fading shadow on the charts.

It had been almost two years since DBSK had been bought out from SM. SM hadn’t been happy to let go, then there’d been lawyers and accountants and contracts and suddenly all the boys had found themselves very, very rich. Their new producers had just laughed at their amazement.

You seem so surprised that as the stars, you should actually be making a decent percentage of the profits! It’s not like we could make money from DBSK if there was no DBSK.

Suddenly there were no more cramped apartments chosen by someone else and decked out with staged pictures of themselves. You guys can live wherever you want. Though of course close to the studio would be best.

It wasn’t until after they’d moved that anyone realised that they could have chosen to live separately. Jaejoong rationalised staying put with, Just because we’re making more money now doesn’t mean we should be wasteful. Living together saves heaps. The hypocrite. Everyone ignored the brand new grand piano that had just been shipped into the music room, picked by Jae and Yoochun at extravagant cost. Yunho had chipped in, It’s better for the band to be in one place. As if they weren’t all at work together from sun-up to sun-down.

Yoochun hadn’t said anything, just put one of his favourite shots of the group on the table. (In Paris, taken by one of the tech crew on Jae’s camera, not a studio shot.) Changmin had slid him a silent smile then ducked his head, looking away. They stayed put.

The schedule hadn’t changed much after the take over, still as hectic as ever, more focused on the overseas market now with the new international owners. More songs in English, more travel. Yoochun had had the dubious pleasure of showing the band the streets in America which had been his home (not-really ever) for a time.

Now it was years later, DBSK was still strong, but starting to fade at the corners. Other faces and sounds were dominating the charts. Rumours spread. Will Dong Bang Shin Ki keep fighting till the death, or cede ground?

Yoochun was stretching in the studio’s dance room. He’d got a bit behind with practices lately – Yunho had broken his ankle last month and there had been less pressure to have dance-based performances for a while.

“Hey.”

Yoochun glanced up, surprised, “Junsu-yah.”

“I didn’t know anyone was here,” Junsu said softly, coming in and sitting next to Yoochun, his back resting against of the wall-length mirrors.

“Hmm. My radio spot finished at one. Jaejoong-hyung is down in the recording studio as well,” Yoochun said, leaning over his outstretched legs, his muscles flexing with the strain.

“Oh.” Junsu made no move to prepare for dancing, maybe he’d just come into the room for some privacy. “Jaejoong is still working on Track 3?”

“Yeah. He’s got the harmonies sorted; he’s working with one of the sound guys on the piano synth now.”

“Oh.”

Yoochun looked over to Junsu, who was just staring at the ceiling.

“...Do you still enjoy this, Yoochun-ah?”

“What?” Yoochun sat up.

“All this... work and no sleep and performing and good never being good enough and ... stuff.”

“I –”

Junsu looked over at him, his eyes piercingly steady, “we’ve made out money, been superstars, paid our dues. You don’t owe anything to anyone now.”

Yoochun winced and looked away, “I know that.”

“Do you?” Junsu sounded openly curious, scepticisim colouring his tone.

Yoochun said nothing. He could hear the flick flick flick of Junsu picking at one of labels on his shoes.

The silence broke when they both spoke.

“Are you leaving?” Yoochun asked.

“I’ve bought a house – in the country.” Junsu said.

“A house?” Yoochun was startled. He wanted to say a thousand things. Why is our home not good enough? Why is what we do not good enough? Why are we (me) not good enough for you anymore? (I miss your smiles.)

“Are you leaving?” Junsu asked.

The question rocked Yoochun. He thought of the band, performing, singing, the stress of years of it. Waking up Jaejoong by throwing pillows across the room. Playing chess with Changmin while Yunho yelled at Jae, sharing food and hugs and smiles with Junsu. He clenched his hands in the fabric of his work-out pants, “I can’t do that,” he said. (How can you even imagine - ?)

Junsu sighed and stood up. “Maybe we’ll have a comeback.”

The thought made Yoochun’s gut clench, “Fuck! Please no?” he said before he could think.

Junsu laughed, “That’s what I thought,” he said. He looked down at Yoochun, “My house has lots of room for lots of people. It’s not even close to the studio.” Then he leant down, tipped Yoochun’s chin up and kissed him gently, sweetly on the lips. “Some things can’t be quit,” he said fiercely, moving away.

Yoochun gaped at him while Junsu walked to the door. “Oh,” Junsu said as he was about to leave, “Having a new house has all these annoying decisions that go with them – the interior designer wants to know, should I get a double bed or a single for my room?” he glanced over his shoulder, smirking.

Yoochun gulped, grasped desperately for the ability to speak, “I – Uh – Double. Definitely double,” he said, his own smirk forming as the hint of fear in Junsu’s eyes vanished.

Junsu just nodded, his face shining with happiness as he left the room.

It took several, long minutes for Yoochun’s brain to catch up with itself, but then he was scrambling up, calling out – “Junsu-yah!”

He didn’t want to miss the others' reactions to this.


--

I know there are probably a few errors in there coz I'm too tired and too attacked by RSI right now to deal, so feel free to point them out. :)