wheredreamslast | jundae; A Distant Memory [Oneshot]

Title: A Distant Memory
Pairing: Chen/Suho
Rating: G
Word Count: 1993 words
Summary: Joonmyun gets an unexpected delivery from an unexpected sender.
Warnings: This is hella sad. And yes, suchen don't end up together in this fic. Sorry, not sorry.

Notes: This was inspired by Day6's 예뻤어 so that should tell you quite a bit about this story... if not a lot lol. Thanks to

bespokenboy for giving it a quick look and to

mara_ciro for the beta ♥

The doorbell rings on a Saturday afternoon, a loud, echoing and disruptive sound that pulls Joonmyun out of his home office. He checks the time and date on his phone just to make sure that it is a Saturday afternoon.

“That’s weird,” he says to himself before he opens the door.

“I have a package for Kim Joonmyun-ssi?”

“That’s me.”

“Please sign here,” the delivery man says before he hands Joonmyun a tablet and his package. When Joonmyun returns the tablet, the man walks away, leaving Joonmyun and his questions to himself.

Joonmyun sighs and closes the door, staring at the box. He foregoes going back to his office and plops himself down on his living room couch. The package is the standard box provided by the post office, but there’s a sticker in the middle that has Joonmyun’s details. He scans it for the return address and finds it at the top right.

Kim Jongdae is the first thing he sees. He doesn’t get to read the other details before he’s ripping open the box. The thick bubble wrap that greets him throws off his momentum, but it doesn’t take long for him to take the thick rectangular piece out of the box. He doesn’t bother reaching for the scissors in the kitchen and just tears through the wrap, his heart beating wildly in his ears.

When he finally has it in his hands, a hardbound book with an envelope on top, his breathing starts coming in short, and his heart starts aching, as if someone is squeezing the muscle so tight he can barely see.

Joonmyun tears open the envelope first, leaving the thick book on his lap.

Joonmyun,

How are you? It feels weird to be writing this letter to you, especially since it’s been five years since I last saw you, but I felt like you deserved to know what this book means and what it’s about.

Joonmyun takes a deep breath and finally admires the cover of the hardbound book. It’s a dark blue paper wrap with the title in large thick print.

“Best Friends,” Joonmyun reads aloud. Below the title is an art depicting the backs of two boys, their hands laid right next to each other as they sit atop something that Joonmyun can’t really identify. At the bottom of the drawing is what Joonmyun assumes to be Jongdae’s pen name. “Chen K.”

When Joonmyun turns over the book, he finds another drawing of what he assumes to be the boys on the cover, except this time, they’ve grown taller, taking up most of the space. They’re wearing dress shirts, tucked in dark pants. Their hands lay on top one another, the man on the left wrapping his hand around the one on the right.

The picture gives Joonmyun a sense of nostalgia, and he doesn’t have to guess why. He opens the book and looks for the flap with the synopsis of the novel.

This is the story of Kyungsoo who falls in love with his best friend, Jongin. This is the story of Jongin who breaks his best friend’s heart. This is the story of what happens in between. This is how they fall in love.

Memories of the past flash by his eyes, and he has to take a deep breath so they don’t swallow him whole. He closes the book and continues reading the letter.

I always told you I’d write about us, that I’d write our story, and after five years, here it is. I changed a lot of things, so it won’t really be us, but if you read it, you will probably be the only one who can see the two of us in the characters.

It took me a long time to heal, Joonmyun and this book, I had to write it so I could forget and move on.

I hope you don’t mind that I changed the ending. This was how I saw it for the two of us, and this was the only way I could stop seeing it for the two us.

It’s okay if you don’t read the book, but I just felt like you should have your own copy because I dedicated this book to you. Without you, this book wouldn’t have existed, and despite everything that has happened to us, I’m grateful for all the memories you gave me.

Thank you for everything, Joonmyun. I’m okay now.

Jongdae

Joonmyun takes a deep and shaky breath before he puts the letter back into its envelope. He opens the book again and takes another deep breath for every page he turns. It takes a few seconds before he reaches the dedication page, but just as Jongdae had written, he finds his name there, or rather his nickname.

To my guardian

Joonmyun swallows thickly at the petname, memories of when Jongdae had whispered those words in his ears causing a shiver to run down his spine. His eyes trail downwards where Jongdae has written something else in black permanent marker.

Joonmyun, you were my best friend and a part of me will always love you.

When Joonmyun pulls the back cover, he finds the flap with Jongdae’s picture in it. It’s a new photo, or at least it’s new to him. Jongdae’s sitting in what Joonmyun can only assume to be a coffee shop. With his head resting on his palm, Jongdae looks out the window with a notebook and pen on the table. From the small colored photo, Joonmyun can see that Jongdae has dyed his hair a golden shade of brown. He somehow looks younger with his round shaped glasses, but Joonmyun can almost see the lines in the corners of his eyes and lips saying that he’s aged almost as much as Joonmyun.

Joonmyun reads the small blurb that states Jongdae’s accomplishments before reaching the part where Jongdae lives now. He can’t say he’s surprised to find out that Jongdae has moved to a city far away from where they used to live. He takes a deep breath and closes the book. He cleans up his mess, making sure to stick the envelope in between the pages.

Joonmyun goes back to his office and turns off his computer. He thinks about the work he had planned to do and mentally schedules them for later. He takes his coffee mug and walks to the kitchen so he can make himself another cup of coffee.

With a warm mug of coffee in one hand and the book in the other, Joonmyun sits back on his couch, stretching his legs across the plush sofa. He puts his coffee down on the table and opens the book.

Joonmyun doesn’t close the book until he’s reached the last page, by then, the night has reached it’s peak. His eyes are heavy with tears that trail down his cheeks, and he knows he’s making that face Jongdae would always laugh at but love anyways. He’s crying and has been crying for the last few chapters and nothing can seem to stop them.

Whenever he closes his eyes, Joonmyun can see him and Jongdae living Kyungsoo and Jongin’s lives. Kyungsoo and Jongin aren’t anything like Joonmyun and Jongdae, but Joonmyun has lived their story, was almost at their ending, but just as Jongdae had said, they were different.

Kyungsoo and Jongin will continue to live the rest of their lives together, but Joonmyun and Jongdae will never be able to go back to those times when they could promise forever. Not when Joonmyun had broken Jongdae’s heart twice. Not when Joonmyun was the one who ended their friendship and tore their relationship apart with those five words.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

Joonmyun tries to breathe, one deep inhale and exhale right after the other. He closes the book for fear of damaging it with his tears. When he can breathe a little easier, he wipes his tears away and lies back down on the couch, hoping it will help stop the tears.

He knows it’s not regret for letting Jongdae go. He knows he’d done the right thing by walking away then. He can only describe the crippling sadness threatening to swallow him whole as guilt, guilt for hurting Jongdae, for making him believe that he could love him forever, that they could make it even though Joonmyun had already turned Jongdae down when he confessed for the first and last time.

It plays like a movie in his head, the first time they met, the first time they hung out, when Joonmyun had first called Jongdae his best friend. He closes his eyes and falls deeper into his memories of Jongdae all throughout high school, smiling, laughing, brighter than sun. He remembers the Jongdae who’d cried and confessed to him on graduation day, the Jongdae who’d said his goodbye for what seemed to be forever when Joonmyun couldn’t return his feelings.

Joonmyun cries again when he can picture the first time he saw Jongdae after that. Jongdae’s laugh had been clear and loud on the street and when Joonmyun followed the sound, their eyes met. It had been a year since their high school graduation, and Joonmyun couldn’t look away, couldn’t let go.

Joonmyun remembers what Jongdae looked like when he’d confessed this time, when he’d told Jongdae that he loved him. Jongdae had cried, but he was so beautiful. Jongdae’s eyes had shone, and his tears marred his cheeks, but he was beautiful.

But perhaps the clearest image of them all is the Jongdae who’d cried silently as Joonmyun finally let him go. Jongdae sat stock still on their couch, eyes brimming with tears, streaks of them falling all over his cheeks and jaws. Joonmyun had been hardened by the loss of his love that he didn’t care whether he’d hurt Jongdae.

When Jongdae had brought up the subject of breaking up, Joonmyun couldn’t keep the words to himself and admitted to himself and Jongdae the truth. He didn’t care about the pain and hurt that swam in Jongdae’s eyes; he didn’t piece together the broken promises that Jongdae had been mourning in the moment. He didn’t see these things until now.

Joonmyun can still see Jongdae wipe his tears away and can still hear him say, in the most broken voice he’d ever hear in his lifetime, “Okay then, let’s end this.”

Joonmyun had been shocked, but he’d been relieved. He felt free, but now, he felt the guilt creeping up his skin, five years too late.

Jongdae had looked so strong, but broken, so broken. And if Joonmyun had any heart then, maybe it wouldn’t have taken Jongdae so long to move on. If he had felt this guilty back then, he could’ve told Jongdae that he was sorry, that everything was his fault.

But it’s too late. Everything is too late.

Joonmyun wipes the tears away from his eyes and tries to hold himself together. He puts the book down beside his empty coffee mug and closes his eyes. Jongdae had moved on, and technically, he had too. It’s been five years, and he knows Jongdae would no longer want an apology, not now or ever.

It’s 2:37AM but Joonmyun runs back to his office. He grabs a pen and paper and writes whatever words come to his mind. He falls asleep as soon as he signs his name. When morning comes, he will put the letter in an envelope and mail it to the return address written on the package.

Jongdae,

Thank you for sending me the book, I really appreciate it. I wanted to tell you that I regret nothing as well. Thank you for the memories, and thank you for bringing them back to me in written form. Kyungsoo and Jongin may not be us, and their story maybe different from ours, but I will always see us in them.

It was beautiful, Jongdae. Everything about it was.

Joonmyun

a/n: I originally had a different plan/story for this fic, but that first story didn't work out and I remembered this fic idea I had 4 years ago... and I revamped it a bit to match the feeling I wanted to portray. It honestly felt great to do so. The idea remained the same, but I just condensed it, fixed all the problems I had the first time and now here it is. I reused the title I had before even though it doesn't quite fit the fic mostly for old time's sake. None of you will probably remember how hard I tried to write this hahaha, but yeah, I can now say goodbye to this wip. WOW!
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