Author's note: Second DBSK fic in 2 days. And this one is much longer. Oh boy. That’s what happens when I stay sick at home. <<; 30 kisses challenge, theme #24; good night. DBSK RPS, JaeChun. Don't know them, don't own them. No harm intended.

Moon Talk


He leaned his forehead to the cold window glass. Sitting on the windowsill with his legs up he was watching the night unfold before his eyes. It was pitch-dark outside; the thick clouds obscuring the stars. Occasionally the moon would peek out and bathe him in the pale light; and each time he would welcome his night companion, wishing it would stay visible longer.

Mickey sighed. It was impossible to sleep on the nights like this, when the air was too thick with suppressed rain and it was hard to breathe. He tried to compose, but couldn’t concentrate on anything in particular. Some bits were circling in his mind, but too vague to be put down. He tried to read, but his thoughts kept wandering from what he was reading, so he laid the book aside as well.

So, he ended sitting in his pajamas on the windowsill in the kitchen with a pack of cigarettes, watching the dark silhouettes of the trees move outside and wishing for a distraction. The house was silent; everybody in their respective beds. Sitting in the darkness and the utter silence wasn’t something that Mickey liked doing, but at this particular moment he felt detached from the rest of the world, from somebody known as Park Yoochun.

He long lost the track of time, when he suddenly heard a soft voice calling his name: “Mickey?” Startled, he turned and saw somebody standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Hesitantly the shadow moved closer to him, acquiring the familiar features with each step and finally turning into Hero. Mickey let out a shaky breath, willing his heart to stop pounding.

“You scared me, Jae,” – he said to the elder boy. Hero smiled apologetically and then frowned a little. “Why are you up so late?” – he asked quietly. “Why are you?” – shot Mickey back, noticing that Hero still wore his day clothes, a simple t-shirt and blue jeans.

Hero shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep,” – he said, “So I decided to have a walk.” He leaned to the wall opposite the other and kept silence for awhile watching Mickey stare out of the window.

“You didn’t answer my question,” – he said finally, “What are you doing here?” Mickey shrugged. “Just watching the stars,” – he said feeling strangely disturbed.

“Watching stars, heh?”, he heard a low chuckle. “Why, Yoochun, you never struck me as a romantic type,” – said Hero teasingly. The comment made the sitting boy blush a little and he turned to the other to answer, but whatever his words might have been, they never came out.

The shadows were dancing on Hero’s face, making him look surreal. At this particular moment the moon decided to show itself in full glory, coming out from behind the clouds and bathing his features in the pale yellow light. Just for this short moment the elder boy seemed to be somebody else, someone perfect and divine.

An angel, Mickey thought. But the ever teasing moon hid again and the moment was lost, and his friend looked like a human again. And everything was the same. Mickey smirked and shook his head a little. It was such a strange night and it was giving him really strange thoughts.

Looking at his friend again, the boy watched his friend take a cigarette out of his pack and lit it. The orange tip glowed mockingly, contrasting drastically with the color of Hero’s skin. Mickey watched him inhale deeply, hold the smoke and then slowly let it out. He felt some odd emotions stir in his chest. Confused he reached for a cigarette pack as well.

Hero seemed oblivious to everything; his eyes were glued to the scenery behind the window. He felt content just standing here, leaning to the wall, in the comfortable silence of the friend, who wouldn’t pester about going to bed and catching some valuable hours of sleep or annoy him about smoking. He just liked the way it was. He was glad he didn’t go out, it was much warmer inside.

It was difficult not to watch the elegant curve of Jaejoong’s neck, or the way he was holding a cigarette in his long fingers, hard not to look into his eyes and see the contentedness there – something which Mickey himself wasn’t able to find. Annoyed the boy turned his gaze to the window again. For him the silence wasn’t comfortable, not a bit. On the contrary, it seemed as if the time was stretching, he felt as if his presence was palpable, annoying, unwanted.

Blindly Mickey was staring outside, searching for that mystery in the moving crowns of the trees, dark houses across the street,- the scene that once had kept him captivated. But it seemed totally lost for him. It felt as if he was reading a book and then suddenly realized that he didn’t understand the language he was reading in. Mickey felt annoyed because of this to the point that he was about to stand up and leave, when a sudden question brought his attention back to Hero.

“Aren’t you afraid of the darkness?”

The words were whispered softly, as if Hero was afraid to scare him. Mickey glanced at him, but the elder boy was still peering into the darkness behind the window glass. He didn’t move, didn’t change his pose; his face was a perfect mask kept in stiffly in place. A marble statute would have looked more alive then Hero at that moment, and suddenly Mickey realized something. They were worlds apart. There was a gap that nothing could bridge. He wished he could dissolve in the darkness.

“I used to when I was a kid,” he answered. “But my dad always told me that I should be strong and it was a weakness to be afraid of something as harmless as darkness.”

Hero’s lips curled into some sort of smile. “My parents said the same things. Especially after mom found me sleeping in my elder sister’s bed.” He chuckled. “I used to come to her when I couldn’t sleep and kept imagining some monsters watching me in the darkness. Or when there was a storm and it was too scary to be alone. But when my dad found out about it, I was scolded and since then I always had to sleep alone.” He shifted a little. “And I am still afraid of the darkness.” He added almost inaudibly.

No, Mickey thought, I don’t want to hear about this. I don’t want to feel sympathy for you, to grow to like you even more than I already do. I don’t want to want to hold you in my arms and feel the warmth of your body. I don’t want to feel. Not this crazy night, when the reality and my dreams keep mingling.

Jaejoong shivered. The previous feeling of contentedness already gone, he longed for something he couldn’t place his finger on. He wished to be held, at least for a moment, to feel protected in the circle of the strong hands. But he knew his wish couldn’t be granted. Because even though the darkness concealed many things, the night was no less real than the day. There was no reason to lie to himself.

These thoughts saddened him. Hugging himself Hero tried to suppress the shivering. He heard Mickey move and then jump off the sill, obviously tired and going to bed. But he didn’t expect to be suddenly wrapped in an embrace. Started, his heart beating fast, he willed himself to relax. Hiding his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck Hero melted in the warmth, trying to absorb it with every pore of his body.

The time seemed to freeze. This is how it should be, Mickey thought.

Finally they moved apart. “It’s late,” he said. Jaejoong nodded and then suddenly leaned and kissed him on the cheek. Mickey felt the warm blush spread on his face. Hero smiled almost shyly and took his hand.

Following the elder boy Mickey cast the farewell glance at the moon and smiled secretively. “Good night,” he whispered.


started: 16/03/05