Jaejoong isn't surprised by the sick feeling in his stomach when he realizes this, but if he thinks about it, the situation isn’t as bad as it looks. It’s fixable. Yunho would never have to know anything; Jaejoong can just find Changmin and explain everything.

 

“Changmin,” he’d plead. “I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to leave you like that, please forgive me. I had a reason— Yunho is dying.”

 

The words echo strangely in his head.

 

“Jaejoong, I’m sorry for leaving you, please forgive me. I had a reason. I’m dying.”

 

It is exactly what Yunho had done, leaving and coming back with explanations and the desire to fix their relationship.

 

Only—

 

Only it hadn’t been fixed.

 

They aren’t the same, they aren’t a couple anymore. Jaejoong obviously doesn’t feel the same, he’s in love with someone else, Yunho’s just a friend to him now.

 

But why? Jaejoong asks himself desperately. Yunho was still his old self, helpful and kind and considerate and all sorts of good qualities. Why couldn’t he stay in love him?

 

He knows why.

 

He left me. He left me for five years. I don’t care if he had a reason, he should have told me something. Anything. I was left waiting, agonizing, and he steps back into my life thinking everything would be the same, but it never is.

 

It never is.

 

Even if, after Yunho (he swallows hard) dies, he gets back together with Changmin, Changmin would never trust him.

 

Their relationship would be tainted. It’d be torn apart by suspicion, petty fights and shouting matches.

 

The sick feeling returns full force.

*

He does his best to hide it from Yunho. If Yunho found out, he’d feel hurt (that Jaejoong could fall in love so quickly), worried (what if Jaejoong left him for Changmin?), uneasy (then he’d die alone and unloved), conflicted (because what does Jaejoong owe him, anyway?), and above all, guilty.

 

He knows Yunho will feel guilty, and it would make him try to do something ridiculously noble like leave, and screw everything up even more.

 

Jaejoong’s already decided he’s never going to tell Changmin how he feels, so why would he tell Yunho and stir up unnecessary trouble? The last thing he needs in Yunho interfering or even caring about his problems.

 

Despite his best efforts, there are times Jaejoong lets something slip, and his attempts to brush them off only make them all the more obvious. He starts to think Yunho knows something.

 

To be honest he’s sure Yunho knows. Hell, Yunho probably figured it out before he did, but if no one says anything, it’s still practically a secret, isn’t it?

*

Yunho stops by as Jaejoong’s making dinner.

 

“Hey,” Jaejoong comments, without looking up. “Where were you yesterday? I thought you were going to come over.”

 

“I was,” Yunho says, a shade guiltily, “but I realized I had something to do, and after I finished I was too tired to come over. I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

 

“It’s okay.” Jaejoong spoons some food onto a plate. “What did you have to do?”

 

Yunho opens his mouth, and then closes it. “I— ” he starts, and trails off. “Well— something— it wasn’t very important— nothing very important, really.”

 

Jaejoong looks up at that, narrowing his eyes. Yunho’s fidgeting, picking up plates and setting them down, completely avoiding Jaejoong’s eyes.

 

 “Yunho. What did you do?” His voice comes out louder than he means, and he sees Yunho wince.

 

“I talked to Changmin,” he says, words coming out in a nervous rush.

 

“You did what?” The plate slips from his fingers and food spills messily to the floor, but Jaejoong barely notices. “You had no right to interfere—”

 

“I didn’t say anything important,” Yunho defends himself. “I just wanted to see him.”

 

“Why did you go?” There’s a tight feeling in Jaejoong’s chest and he doesn’t understand why he’s so angry. “He doesn’t know anything about you except that you’re the reason why I broke up with him! He obviously doesn't know why, so he must hate you if anything! Why would you go see someone who hated you? Just because you were curious?”

 

Yunho stops him mid-rant with a single question. “You didn’t tell him I was dying?”

 

Jaejoong closes his eyes briefly, pressing his temples with his fingers. “No. I didn’t.” He doesn’t want to see the understanding in Yunho’s eyes (if he can’t see it, it’s not there).

 

“He seemed like a nice kid,” Yunho says softly, placing a hand on Jaejoong’s shoulder, and just like that Jaejoong’s anger disappears.

 

“Yeah.”  It leaves behind a sort of empty, hollow ache in his chest. “He is.”

*

In the middle of their dinner, Yunho gets sick and has to go back home to lie down. His face is pale and tired and he’s so obviously sick, even though he tells Jaejoong not to worry.

 

Jaejoong insists on driving Yunho to his apartment, gives him medicine, forces him into bed, and sits with him until he falls asleep.

 

When he gets home he collapses on his couch and buries his face in his hands. He’s been so caught up in his own stupid problems he’s practically forgotten Yunho’s dying, and for that he hates himself.

 

But Jaejoong hates having to know that Yunho is going to die and being unable to do anything more, so he searches for a source of oblivion. Which usually means alcohol.

 

There’s nothing in his apartment, so he hails a cab and tells the driver to take him anywhere he can get drunk.

 

“I know just the place,” the driver announces. “Pretty close by too. They’ve got a great selection of drinks, and I hear they’re having some event tonight, where people can volunteer to sing if they want. Sounds good, eh? A nice little pick-me-up?”

 

Yes, Jaejoong agrees silently. It sounds perfect.

*

Most of the singers make him wish he’d gone somewhere else, but some are fairly decent. Even in his intoxicated state he can admit that. The girl up now, she’s short but she’s got a powerful voice, and Jaejoong wonders if she’ll ever use that voice for something other than entertaining drunkards like him. Probably not.

 

When she finishes Jaejoong applauds half-heartedly, absentmindedly counting the number of empty glasses on his table. The bottles blur and he loses track, which makes him think he should be heading home soon.

The couple next to him chattering loudly, a constant clink of bottles as they’re dealt out and drunk, the slow and lethargic pulse of Jaejoong’s heart, they all drown out the announcer and he doesn’t hear who the next singer will be.

 

It is only when a hushed, almost unnatural silence falls over the club that Jaejoong looks up, and there’s Changmin.

 

Up there on the stage, golden light shining down on him and only him, he looks like an angel.

 

“Am I dreaming?” Jaejoong wonders, dazed. It could very well be a delusion brought on by the alcohol.

 

But the shock of seeing Changmin after so long has sobered him up; the haze clouding his mind disappears and he feels cold. He knows he shouldn’t be here, but a morbid curiosity forces him to stay. He’s a singer. He wants to hear Changmin’s voice.

 

Music starts to play, an eerie tune that makes the hairs on Jaejoong’s neck stand up, and Changmin begins to sing.

 

Changmin’s voice is clear and pure and cuts straight through him. Jaejoong’s eyes sting, and he realizes, distantly, that he’s crying.

 

There’s a physical ache in his chest that hurts, so badly, and he continues listening, longing for some kind of meaning. He wants proof that what’s he’s doing is right, and Changmin gives it to him.

 

He can tell Changmin’s only just getting over what happened; he’s on the verge of letting it go. After all, love fades with time. Theirs was already broken to begin with. Changmin doesn’t need him. Changmin doesn’t want him.

 

Jaejoong could leave right now and make sure Changmin doesn’t see him. That would be the right thing to do, to let Changmin forget about him and move on with his life.

 

But— and in his inebriated state he’s allowed to say this— Jaejoong doesn’t want Changmin to forget about him. He wants to be stupid and selfish; he wants Changmin to think about him and forgive him for what he did and—

 

The purpose of this evening, Jaejoong reminds himself, was to get completely and utterly drunk, not to whine and cry over his love life.

 

He takes another swig of his drink.

*

Jaejoong wakes up.

 

Jaejoong is surprised to have woken up, because he does not recall going to sleep. Or returning to his apartment.

 

He contemplates over this for awhile, and the fact that he seems to be rather naked, and comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t remember anything that happened, except for Changmin singing. Everything after that comes in bits and pieces and he’s not sure which parts actually happened and which are only dreams.

 

The most memorable dream had something to do with Changmin. At one point they were talking, or, rather, Changmin was trying to talk to him. Jaejoong feels rather proud that his dream self walked away instead of staying, chatting, and doing something stupid. The next instance he recalls makes him frown, because instead of avoiding Changmin Jaejoong had put his arms around him, looked into his eyes soulfully, and was carried on his back.

 

It’s not the most pleasant discovery he’s made this week, learning that he’s so obsessed with Changmin that he even dreams about him, but dreams aren’t real. They don’t hurt anyone.

 

With that in mind, he shifts slightly in his bed and turns towards the window, but there’s someone standing there, blocking the sunlight.