Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating: R
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
Synopsis: A continuation of the relationship between Yoochun and Junsu from So Much Mine. Once again, hot pretty boys, music, dancing and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen; Sixteen; Seventeen; Eighteen
Jae is never sure what to think when he stands on the outside of an argument. If he had a choice, there would be very little conflict in his life but the occasion seems to arise nearly every other day as someone steps too close to his soul or the world needs a shield built between himself and its rage.
Yunho’s anger, while not directed at him, burned a cold fire...an ice storm driving shards of words into the exposed tender bits it could reach. Mrs. Jung suffered the brunt of the maelstrom, her face frozen in a waxen effigy of her beauty. Mostly Jae’s lover raged about the trespasses of his father into his life, Yunho circling the room and talking, gesturing with staccato hands punctuating his remarks.
“My father walks away from me...casts me out and then...” Yunho turned, facing his mother who glanced at Jaejoong, hoping for some sign of support. “He digs around into my life searching for mud to fling in my face? You can’t have it both ways, Mother. You can’t turn your back on me and then go crying that I’m a poor son. I wasn’t the one who turned on my family. I was the one left behind in this hotel. Have you forgotten that?”
The singer remained silent, offering little more than a façade for her to stare at. The Jungs chose to treat their son...their only son... as his own parents treated him. Jae would do nothing to ease their way back into Yunho’s life if they sought only to separate them. Mrs. Jung would have to do her own apologizing and possibly serve as a breaker for her husband’s machinations.
“I haven’t, Yunnie.” Mrs. Jung tried to steady her nerves, pouring out another cup of tea. Taking a sip of the oversteeped bitter brew, she struggled not to make a face, the rattle of porcelain loud in the air-conditioned room. “I don’t come here with your father. It is just me.”
“How can I trust you?” Yunho asked. The young man stared out of the glass panes overlooking the city, his lover reflected in the shimmering curtain of light. Meeting Jae’s eyes, Yunho sighed at the reproach he found there, seeing the anguish blooming in the other’s gaze. “BooJae...”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Yunnie-ah.” Jaejoong rested on the arm of a wingchair, pulling his legs up and resting his feet on its seat cushion. “Do you want me to give you permission to love your mother? Or hate her? I came because you wanted me too...and because you said you needed to hear another voice. I want what’s best for you. And if that means your mother then I’m saying listen to her. If not, then we walk out of here and go home.”
“Neither one of us has anything to be ashamed of.” Yunho nodded, his gaze falling back on the buildings in the valley. He could see the stretch of park and follow the line of the river to the apartment that they lived in. “Nor any of the others. I can’t believe Father would jeopardize other people merely because he isn’t pleased with my choices.”
“Not pleased is a mild word for it.” Jae interjected. “He hates what he thinks I’ve made you into. If it weren’t for me...”
“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be where I am in my life.” The leader stopped Jaejoong from continuing. “You’re as much of a part of my success as any dance step or note that I’ve sung. Don’t forget that, Joongie-ah.”
“Your father doesn’t hate you, son.” Mrs. Jung stood, pressing her weight on her hands to support herself. The anger in her son’s face cut deep into her heart, a knife she had a hand in forging. A knot of pain bloomed in her forehead, the headache pulsing across her temples.
“Want me, accept Jaejoong.” Yunho returned to Jae’s side, nearly within touching distance. The comfortable stance of belonging sang through her son’s lean form, honed taut from dancing and vibrating with a suppressed temper.
“I do...accept Jaejoong.” Tears spread thin over his mother’s face, shed as he would shed them, sparse and heavy with sorrow. “This isn’t easy for me, Yunho. There are so many dreams that I had for you that I have to put aside... this...relationship is something I never thought I would have to worry about.”
“Worry?” Yunho tilted his head back.
He was unwilling to give in to compromise, despite the touch of Jaejoong’s hand between his shoulder blades. With the singer firmly behind him, physically and emotionally, Yunho searched his anger-hardened heart for compassion, knowing his lover would ask him if he’d even once considered forgiving his mother. Taking a deep breath, Yunho damped down his ire.
“Umma.” Jaejoong’s presence grounded Yunho, a steady dousing of water on his fiery nature. “I never... wanted to hurt you. I’ve said that before... and I meant it. But I can’t... look at Jaejoong and see someone that made me stray from my path.”
“This isn’t something I just jumped into lightly.” Yunho approached his mother, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Do you think I didn’t think this through? I was horrified when I looked at Jaejoong and found myself wanting him. It disgusted me...”
“Please don’t take offense, Boo.” Yunho turned to smile at his lover who waved off the words with a shake of his head and a rueful smirk. “He forgives me for that. And trust me when I tell you, no one could hate harder than I can when I feel like I’m falling into something I can’t control.”
“Through that entire time when I was fighting off my attraction for Jaejoong, I kept thinking about how steady your love for me was.” Mrs. Jung allowed herself to be guided to sit on a chair, Yunho pulling another seat close to her, his hands clasped over hers. “And when I finally said to myself... God, I love him... I still fought. I didn’t want to admit that I wanted Jaejoong forever. I thought that if I just... satisfied my needs, I’d be okay.”
“But Jae demanded better...and he deserves better. He should be loved and not viewed as someone... disposable for me to just use.” Yunho smiled at the memory of his lover’s willful admonishments. “I was ashamed that I even thought of that because you taught me better. Never ever sublimate someone. Never make someone feel smaller than yourself and I was so... angry with myself for doing that to him.”
“I don’t... understand how you could... fall in love with another boy, Yunho.” His mother sniffled. “I always thought you would bring home a nice young girl who I could call daughter. Kim Jaejoong...”
“Probably not someone you can call daughter.” Yunho admitted wryly. “But he... completes me. He’s strong where I’m weak and chaotic when I take myself too seriously. He makes me laugh, umma. Jae dreams bigger than I do and then tells me that nothing is outside of my grasp. I’ve never had someone dream for me before... not like he does. It’s like if I can think something up... a goal... there’s no hesitation, just a commitment and an energy to work with me.”
“Can you say that Father is your partner that way?” Her son asked, prodding gently. “Are you his?”
“Yunnie-ah...” Jae spoke softly, padding over to the two chairs. Crouching besides his lover, he cocked his head up at Mrs. Jung, cautious and cold-faced despite the warmth in his eyes. “So you want me to leave so you can talk to Yunho alone?”
“No...” She shook her head, grabbing at a napkin to dab at her eyes. “He won’t talk to me without you here. He’s stubborn... just like his father.”
“BooJae, if I ever act like my father... kick me.” Yunho rolled his eyes. “And if ever I toss one of our kids out because I don’t like his choices, you have permission to beat some sense into me.”
“Kids?” Jae cocked an eyebrow, pursing his mouth into a pretty bow. The singer’s tone flattened, a small level of surprise running under the hard metal of his words. “Our kids?”
“If we wanted kids. Boo, help me out here.” Yunho shrugged, hearing the hiccup of a sigh in his mother’s silent crying. “Umma, Jae and I haven’t talked about ... everything. We’re still... our goals are the group. And supporting one another. We don’t even have houses or our own cars. Everything we own can be packed up and moved quickly to another apartment or another country. I’m a gypsy right now as is Jaejoong. All I have is him and the others.”
“When I was ready to tell you about him, I thought... I expected you to need some time but not to be so... violent against me.” The young man made a mental note to spend some time coaxing the mercurial singer back off the ledge of panic Jae leapt onto at the mention of children. “I told him... and God you should have heard me reassuring him that you’d at least listen to tell you. I can’t tell you how hurt I was when you... neither of you... were willing to even see how I felt.”
“I am sorry, Yunnie. I am.” His mother grasped at Yunho’s wrists, biting at her lip. “I don’t agree with what your father wanted to do and I certainly know that he would approach Park Yoochun. It hurt too much to have you... love another man and then I found out how much it hurt to have you gone. I’m willing to... try to accept Jaejoong if it means that we... can...”
“I don’t need you to accept me, Mrs. Jung.” Jaejoong eased onto the arm of Yunho’s chair, working out the kink forming in his thigh. “I never did. Yunho wanted you to but let’s face it... I’m not someone a mother will love. My own mother...”
“Joongie...” Yunho turned, his arm around his lover’s waist in a tight clench. “No, don’t talk like that.”
“It’s true, Yunnie.” Jae hid behind the curtain of dark hair that feel into his face, head bowed so only his lover could see him. “I really don’t need your mother to love me. It would be nice but really, no one wants someone else’s child. Even if he’s someone their son loves... well, maybe especially if he is someone their son loves. Your mother doesn’t want you to desire me. I think expecting her to accept me in your life is as much as you should ask her to do.”
“I can accept you.” Mrs. Jung replied, holding down the soft sobs in her throat. “I know you love him, Jaejoong. I can see that.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Jae shrugged. He kept his porcelain mask firmly in place, not wanting to show a shred of emotion to the woman who could hurt his lover the most. His soul wept with the ache of loneliness, family lost to him when his heart turned to men. He wanted Yunho to avoid that kind of pain, a sadness that etched acid into the most tender of feelings. If he could spare his lover that, then he could live with the chilly distance Mrs. Jung would have of him.
“How about if I go down and get us a room, Yunnie?” Jae slid from the chair, touching Yunho’s cheek with a gentle kiss. “You and your mom can talk and when you’re ready to go to bed, you won’t have to go far.”
“Do you mind?” Yunho tipped back in the chair, studying his lover’s face.
“No.” Jae smiled, wistful at the shine in Yunho’s eyes. “Anything for you. Isn’t that what someone who loves you should promise? Anything?”
Morning broke into Yoochun’s dreams, his side too warm with the heat of the young man cuddled up against him. Sour breath clung to his tongue, a film brought on from lack of sleep more than anything else. A nudge against his bladder informed Micky he had very little time to get to the bathroom before the sheets would be doused with his waters.
Sliding down the length of the bed, the singer sprinted naked to the bathroom, washing himself in a quick shower and scrubbing at his teeth with mint toothpaste. Wrapping his towel around his hips, he padded out into the main room, finding an empty bed where he left his lover.
Hastily pulling on a pair of jeans and a shirt, Micky wandered out to the living room, stopping at the threshold of the hallway, spotting a bare-chested Junsu laughing with Hyukjae on the couch. Smiling as he walked in, Yoochun quickly tried to find the manila envelope they’d left on the coffee table, a yellow paper rectangle conspicuously missing from the glass surface. Changmin cleared his throat behind Yoochun, handing Junsu bottles of water over the seat back before jerking his head toward the kitchen, summoning Micky to follow him.
“Where did you put them?” Yoochun scrambled through the fridge, looking for something to serve and to ease the hunger clawing in his stomach. The light bulb woefully told a tale of immense loneliness, its sole companions in the spacious confines a variety of juices and pickles. Frowning, Yoochun glanced at his lover, wondering why Junsu was sitting around half-naked and more importantly, asking himself why Hyukjae was there. “What time is it?”
“Nearly ten.” Changmin exclaimed as he found a package of shrimp chips, pouring the white crackling squares into a bowl. “Go keep hyung busy so Junsu-ah can go brush his teeth and dress. He didn’t want to leave Hyukjae alone.”
“You were here.” Yoochun frowned.
“I’m who Junsu didn’t want to leave Hyujkae alone with.” Min made a face, dismissing the older man’s concerns over his friend’s presence. “Apparently, if he’s left a mark on you... like the big purple blotch on your neck... then it’s okay.”
Yoochun’s hand slapped over his neck, shocked at the smirk on the youngest singer’s face as Min walked away, offering Hyukjae the bowl of shrimp chips. The SuJu member thanked the young man, letting a glance travel over Changmin’s long legs, stopping briefly on the curve of his hips before reaching the smile on Min’s face. Junsu frowned, a dark flush on his features. Nudging his best friend, Junsu stood, smiling at Yoochun.
“Can you keep Hyukjae company? I need to talk to Min and take a bath.” Junsu grabbed at the youngest’s arm, forcibly leading him to the hallway.
“Hey!” Min found himself being pushed out of the living room, a determined Junsu firmly behind him. Calling out, his voice nearly lost around the bend of the wall, Min said to Hyukjae. “Nice to see you again!”
“Susu-ah, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he didn’t trust me.” Hyukjae grinned up at his friend’s lover, munching on a chip. Cocking his head, he nodded to Yoochun’s hand. “Did something bite you? It looks like you slapped at a mosquito.”
Wondering if he should drop his hand or just brave Hyukjae’s teasing, Yoochun decided to settle on the opposite of the singer, keeping that part of his body shielded from view. Casually pulling his hair around to cover the spot, Yoochun picked up Junsu’s water and sipped, tasting the other man’s sweetness on the rim.
"It's good to see you... again." Yoochun smiled, calculating how much Junsu might have had to talk to his best friend. He regretted the sharing agreement he and Junsu made, the ramifications of the pact now sitting across of him with a smirk on his face.
“So...” Hyukjae waited until Yoochun swallowed the mouthful he’d drank, then leaned forward, tapping at the clearly visible purple bruise slanting down Yoochun’s collarbone. “When are you and Junsu just going to fuck each other? Or are you afraid he’s a praying mantis that’s going to bite off and eat your head if you ever actually have sex?”