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title : flight 447
pairing : changmin/yunho
rating : pg-13
words : 792
summary : changmin waits for word of yunho.
a/n : based on the recent disappearance of Air France flight 447 over the Atlantic Ocean.
He gets the news at seven on his Blackberry, twenty-three missed calls from Jaejoong alone and twelve from other close friends. CNN blares on in the background, "Missing Air France plane probably crashed into the Atlantic," and he listens, knuckles white from frustration and fear.
He gets there thirty minutes later, a private jet that takes him to Paris' Charles de Gaulle Airport, where it takes a group of seven men, Yoochun and Jaejoong plus security guards, to hold him down, all screams and fury, "I'm Shim Changmin, fucking billionaire, don't tell me there's nothing I can do but wait!!"
He thinks of Yunho, ratty suitcase from childhood in one hand and plane ticket in the other, enthusiasm in his voice, "There's no reason to fly private just because you're rich Changmin-ah, I'll get there in one piece, don't worry."
But he does worry because Yunho's not here with him.
He stays at the airport, falling into fitful slumber, Jaejoong's hand in his and head in Yoochun's lap. He wakes periodically, suit crumpled and tie tossed in the trash, pacing up and down the carpeted hallway, angry voice waking others nearby.
Jaejoong says nothing, head bowed and quiet, he's cried and prayed, only wishing now it had been him on that plane and not his best friend. Yoochun smokes, packet after packet of Marlboros, going through five before he's stopped by the oldest, a hand on his shoulder and lighter fluid taken away.
The President of France makes an appearance Monday, telling them he's sorry and chances of finding survivors are "very low."
Changmin spends an hour in the bathroom afterwards, knocking over garbage cans and kicking at empty stalls, idle hands itching to destruct. Jaejoong finds him there, curled in the corner, face covered by large hands and body shaking from tears and exhaustion.
He lets Changmin claw at him, all curses and heated punches until the younger man is clinging to his lapels, hands fisted into the collar and crying for Yunho to be there, to just be there.
They get news on Tuesday morning of debris found by the search and rescue crews. An airplane seat, some metal pieces, an orange float and some oil, all found in a three mile strip between Rio de Janeiro and Paris.
There's no sign of any survivors. Their names are posted on pieces of paper, eight and a half by eleven inches, two hundred and twenty-eight names listed in rows of black ink. Candles light the hallways, tall and square, vanilla and they blind him.By the sixteenth reading, Jung Yunho bleeds into Joo Brian and Changmin tears them all up, watching them burn in front of him with little satisfaction.
The room empties that afternoon, most of the families returning home to take care of funeral services, hope gone and spirits drained. Changmin stays, refusing to leave, images of his boyfriend's bright smile and warm laughter still too engrained in his mind and heart for him to do anything less but wait.
He dreams that night of the older man, vibrant dreams of Yunho's lips on his, soft and familiar as they tease one another, hands joined and hips bucking against one another's. He screams Yunho's name repeatedly, voice hoarse when he awakens and underwear wet with his own come.
Thursday night is when the officials backtrack, debris that was once from the plane crash now isn't. They're told there was no material from the airplane picked up. The material made of wood not from the Air France plane.
News of carnage found reaches Changmin in Korea Saturday morning. The bodies of two men, one a confirmed passenger from Flight 447 that had been found earlier that day. He watches from the sidelines as they lower the empty casket in dank soil, waits until he can no longer see the dark hue of enamel before he leaves, whispers of "how calm and strong" he is from colleagues and family members. They expected nothing less from their leader, always the professional even in the face of such tragedy.
Only Jaejoong knows different, voice a soft lullaby for the twenty-one year old man as he sleeps and presence a grounding factor as he eventually wakes during the night, fervent whispers of "Yunho! Yunho!" on his lips.
Changmin leaves a month later, a legal document transferring all stock to Jaejoong and Yoochun, and a sticky note attached telling them he loves them.
They receive periodic post cards and letters from the younger boy, mostly empty with maybe a signature and few words of how he's doing on them.
Italy, Tokyo, Singapore, New York and Toronto, Changmin travels the world, a rattled suitcase in hand and bus ticket in the other, a piece of Yunho left in every corner.
pairing : changmin/yunho
rating : pg-13
words : 792
summary : changmin waits for word of yunho.
a/n : based on the recent disappearance of Air France flight 447 over the Atlantic Ocean.
He gets the news at seven on his Blackberry, twenty-three missed calls from Jaejoong alone and twelve from other close friends. CNN blares on in the background, "Missing Air France plane probably crashed into the Atlantic," and he listens, knuckles white from frustration and fear.
He gets there thirty minutes later, a private jet that takes him to Paris' Charles de Gaulle Airport, where it takes a group of seven men, Yoochun and Jaejoong plus security guards, to hold him down, all screams and fury, "I'm Shim Changmin, fucking billionaire, don't tell me there's nothing I can do but wait!!"
He thinks of Yunho, ratty suitcase from childhood in one hand and plane ticket in the other, enthusiasm in his voice, "There's no reason to fly private just because you're rich Changmin-ah, I'll get there in one piece, don't worry."
But he does worry because Yunho's not here with him.
He stays at the airport, falling into fitful slumber, Jaejoong's hand in his and head in Yoochun's lap. He wakes periodically, suit crumpled and tie tossed in the trash, pacing up and down the carpeted hallway, angry voice waking others nearby.
Jaejoong says nothing, head bowed and quiet, he's cried and prayed, only wishing now it had been him on that plane and not his best friend. Yoochun smokes, packet after packet of Marlboros, going through five before he's stopped by the oldest, a hand on his shoulder and lighter fluid taken away.
The President of France makes an appearance Monday, telling them he's sorry and chances of finding survivors are "very low."
Changmin spends an hour in the bathroom afterwards, knocking over garbage cans and kicking at empty stalls, idle hands itching to destruct. Jaejoong finds him there, curled in the corner, face covered by large hands and body shaking from tears and exhaustion.
He lets Changmin claw at him, all curses and heated punches until the younger man is clinging to his lapels, hands fisted into the collar and crying for Yunho to be there, to just be there.
They get news on Tuesday morning of debris found by the search and rescue crews. An airplane seat, some metal pieces, an orange float and some oil, all found in a three mile strip between Rio de Janeiro and Paris.
There's no sign of any survivors. Their names are posted on pieces of paper, eight and a half by eleven inches, two hundred and twenty-eight names listed in rows of black ink. Candles light the hallways, tall and square, vanilla and they blind him.By the sixteenth reading, Jung Yunho bleeds into Joo Brian and Changmin tears them all up, watching them burn in front of him with little satisfaction.
The room empties that afternoon, most of the families returning home to take care of funeral services, hope gone and spirits drained. Changmin stays, refusing to leave, images of his boyfriend's bright smile and warm laughter still too engrained in his mind and heart for him to do anything less but wait.
He dreams that night of the older man, vibrant dreams of Yunho's lips on his, soft and familiar as they tease one another, hands joined and hips bucking against one another's. He screams Yunho's name repeatedly, voice hoarse when he awakens and underwear wet with his own come.
Thursday night is when the officials backtrack, debris that was once from the plane crash now isn't. They're told there was no material from the airplane picked up. The material made of wood not from the Air France plane.
News of carnage found reaches Changmin in Korea Saturday morning. The bodies of two men, one a confirmed passenger from Flight 447 that had been found earlier that day. He watches from the sidelines as they lower the empty casket in dank soil, waits until he can no longer see the dark hue of enamel before he leaves, whispers of "how calm and strong" he is from colleagues and family members. They expected nothing less from their leader, always the professional even in the face of such tragedy.
Only Jaejoong knows different, voice a soft lullaby for the twenty-one year old man as he sleeps and presence a grounding factor as he eventually wakes during the night, fervent whispers of "Yunho! Yunho!" on his lips.
Changmin leaves a month later, a legal document transferring all stock to Jaejoong and Yoochun, and a sticky note attached telling them he loves them.
They receive periodic post cards and letters from the younger boy, mostly empty with maybe a signature and few words of how he's doing on them.
Italy, Tokyo, Singapore, New York and Toronto, Changmin travels the world, a rattled suitcase in hand and bus ticket in the other, a piece of Yunho left in every corner.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
THANKS, THIS MADE MY DAY SO MUCH BRIGHTER. >:lllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
just, the not knowing and the waiting in the beginning, and changmin being so desperate to just SEE yunho again that he'd try to throw his influence and money around to gain some leverage even though it's useless. omg and jaejoong there and yoochun smoking like a chimney and ;A;
and after he gets the news, just breaking down and not being able to handle it and he's so small without yunho there, and- and- i need fluff, holy shit i need fluff. the saddest part might be him dreaming of him so vibrantly and he's not THERE but changmin can't forget him. that part. is so. goddamn. sad. and. just. tragic.
you need to stop cramping. >:l i know this is MILD angst for you but LASKFJOWIEFPASFOIJESPJADSKLASJDF now i need to write something fluffy BEFORE I CUT MYSELF WITH RAZORS AND WRITE ANGRY POETRY OF THE WAYS THE WORLD DOES NOT UNDERSTAND ME, OKAY!?!?!??!!!?!?!?
goes. >:l
i still love you i guess. >:llll
>:llll
;_;
changmin-ah~~~ ;A; i'm sad. ;A; cuddles you. ♥
From:
no subject
yoochun's not much of a presence really and i couldn't even include junsu in this because a sad junsu would make me sadder and skgnskjfgnksg couldn't do it. jaejoong's got to be there cos he's the most calming and caring person for changmin besides yunho.
go re-read your own fluff girl. and i'm on midol now, not cramping as much? DD: don't cut yourself bitch, i need you.
i love you! i loveee you yunho-yah! ♥ ♥
From:
no subject
this is sad~
From:
no subject
thanks for reading despite the sadness D:
From:
no subject
thanks for reading and i'm sorry for how late the response is x.x
From:
LIVESMILINGGGG HERE.
Italy, Tokyo, Singapore, New York and Toronto, Changmin travels the world, a rattled suitcase in hand and bus ticket in the other, a piece of Yunho left in every corner.
You may now proceed and write about Changmin and Yunho's ghost.
:DDDD
From:
Re: LIVESMILINGGGG HERE.
haha yunho and changmin's ghost? now what would they be doing? cough. maybe you should, didn't someone say they wanted to write dbsk? :DDD
thanks for commenting you :]
From:
no subject
this was so so sad. :'(((( but i loved it. D: argh whyyy.
the last line. ♥ :(( sobbing.
From:
no subject
thanks for reading and i'm sorry for the delayed response lol. i'm slow like that x.x
From:
no subject
you made me happy with the previous fic and then all sadface! with this one T___T
From:
no subject
re-read the other fic? i'm so sorry D: there's some fluffy fics for homin out there i believe. not that's there is a lot of homin to begin with x.x i really just wanted to fic this and write about the plane disappearance D:
god your icon ♥ freaking changmin in his bowler hats make me go nuts D: and yunho in glasses and dies D:
thanks for reading (sorry for my uber late reply x.x)
From:
no subject
Yunnie died didnt he? you.. he died didnt he?
My heart so heavy rite now. sigh...
From:
no subject
sorry for the late reply and thanks for commenting!
From:
no subject
i really love the last line though <3
From:
no subject
thanks for reading! and sorry for the late reply D:
From:
no subject
this is heartbreaking. at least he lives on to keep yunho's memories alive. -sobs-
From:
no subject
oh i'm sorry it was heartbreaking, i was in a relatively angsty mood. a little emo and have been wanting to write about the disappearance of the air france plane DDD:
i love your icon btw, homin ♥ thanks for reading!
From:
no subject
Write more soon~♥
From:
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PS: sorry about the mistaken identity..hehe...I saw the wrong name...
From:
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I found it really pretty and sad but I have to wonder if it's entirely appropriate to write it so soon. People are just coming to terms with the fact that no one's alive, and while I understand your reasoning for writing it, it's a little shocking to read a fanfic about it.
From:
no subject
Ow, this was sad but not enough :3 *is a hardcore lover angst xD*
OMG the last line ♥
Thank you really much for this.
I really like the way you write because it's like... so usual for you. It's a gift! :DD
From:
:'(
From:
no subject
Anyways this was beautifully writen great job
From:
no subject
Poor Changmin ;______; /sobs I want my beautiful HoMin together again T^T
But even though this was so sad, it was beautiful at the same time ♥