There were few things that Jaejoong enjoyed more than rain, but water falling from the sky seemed to hit something inside of him, something that usually was only touched by the push of a lover against the heat of his body. He loved the misty fog that rose from a hot street, the steamed scents of asphalt flavoured with humanity’s cast-offs. The perfume of a city changed as he walked down the sidewalk, a dark red umbrella keeping the deluge off of his head. With the sky turned swollen black with rain clouds, the afternoon was nearly pitch, his rain cover the only bright spot amid a monochromatic world.
Around him, Tokyo was a blue-washed blur, specks of colour whizzing by him as taxis fought with one another in thick traffic. There was a hunger sitting in his belly but for the life of him, Jaejoong wasn’t sure what he wanted to eat or if the growling in his body was for food.
He’d fled the apartment nearly as soon as the bags were set on the floor. Within minutes, the walls closed in on him, pressing in on his already too tight skin. Begging off dinner, he grabbed an umbrella from the hall closet and headed out of the door, waving off the concerned looks of the other members.
If he’d stopped to think, Jaejoong would have realized the thin t-shirt that he wore was not fit for walking in the rain nor were the torn jeans he’d thought were cool when he put them on in the morning. In the late afternoon rain, the chill worked through the artfully placed rips, leaving patches of goosebumps on his pale skin. Shivering, he looked around for someplace warm, searching for a shelter amid the growing storm.
A small noodle house beckoned, its edge-faded noren turned dark from the rain. Water poured down in a steady sheet, the walkway protected by a tile overhang. Ducking through the fabric, he bowed a greeting to the old woman tottering to welcome him. Smiling, he motioned to the back of the small shop. He needn’t have worried about being seen, the place’s out of the way location and the pouring rain made a crowd unlikely.
The woman left a sheet of paper, the menu handwritten with broad pen strokes. The katakana was easy to read, something Jae was thankful for considering the jet lag dragging down his body. Hot tea appeared on the table and then the old woman was gone, leaving Jaejoong with the silence and dark corner.
His phone chirruped at him, a sing-song ring that he knew in his dreams. Smiling, he opened the cell and spoke into it softly.
“My Yunho,” He said.
“Did you order me something too?” The singer’s deep voice sent him into shivers.
“Did you follow me?”
“Of course.” The noren parted and Jae’s lover walked through the doorway. He stood there, closing the phone as he let his eyes adjust to the shadows. Calling out in Korean, he spotted Jae’s wave from the corner, nearly hidden by a pair of shoji doors.
“Hello, Yunnie-ah,” Jaejoong tilted his head up, accepting a light kiss on the mouth. He kept his eyes to the side, watching for prying eyes. “And yes, I ordered you chaysu-ramen with steamed won-ton.”
“You knew I was following you?” Yunho’s brow creased. “I thought I was so slick.”
“I know you, baby.” The woman reappeared, bringing with her another tea cup. Checking the level of brewed liquid in the ceramic teapot, she excused herself, her feet shuffling over the worn wooden floor. Jaejoong slid his chair over when she left, scooting closer to the other man. “I’m glad you came.”
They held hands under the table, tucked away in a noodle shop far away from their lives. Yunho’s fingers found the white gold band he’d placed on Jaejoong’s hand years ago, the crossed over ring a kiss the singer could wear in plain view. When he’d wandered into Jae’s heart, Yunho floundered about, doing more damage than he’d care to admit but once he’d settled in, he realized there was no where else he would rather live. A simple ring seemed to be all Jaejoong needed besides his love.
Jaejoong grinned when the ramen arrived, bobbing his head in thanks as Yunho murmured appreciation for the steaming food. Plump won-ton floated on the fragrant broth, pale white dumplings steamed to perfection. Swirled pink and white fishcake dotted the noodles, poking out from between mounds of minced green onions and fresh bean sprouts.
“This looks so good,” Yunho said with an awed sigh. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry until right now.”
“You’re going to have to let go of my hand.” Jae pursed his mouth, regretting having to release his lover’s fingers. “Unless you’re going to feed me.”
“I’m only going to let go because I want to eat too,” He teased the singer. “I’ll hold you later.”
Later came in the darkness of their room, candles lit to ward off the shadows that invaded their lives. Both men were worn down, nearly gaunt from lack of sleep and too little food. Yunho peeled Jaejoong’s clothes from his body, whispering softly in amazement at the singer’s thin frame.
“You need to eat more, Boo,” Yunho laid his lover down on the bed, guiding him with careful hands. With the covers pulled back and the candlelight, their room became an oasis where nothing outside could touch them. Sighing, Jaejoong nested down against the pillows, stretching out in an exhausted relief.
“You too.” Jae watched his lover strip. The time Yunho spent in the gym toned his body but there were cracks in the proud façade he put on for the public. It showed in the tenderness he had on his face when he saw Jaejoong on stage, and the teasing smiles he gave his lover across of long tables while waiting to sign autographs. “I worry about you. You keep hurting yourself.”
“I’m careful,” Yunho protested, easing himself onto the bed. He grinned at the face Jaejoong gave him, laying on his stomach. “I’ll be careful with you.”
“Baka. That’s a good word.” Jae stuck his tongue out, wrinkling his nose. His hand captured Yunho’s, sealing them together.
“That’s an old word.” Protesting, Yunho shifted closer, kissing under Jae’s chin. “We’ve known that one for a long time. Tell me one I don’t know.”
“Ainiueru.” Jaejoong murmured into his lover’s ear.
“What does that mean?” Licking at Jae’s mouth, Yunho tasted the rain on the kiss, savouring the moistness he found there.
“Changmin says it’s to hunger for love.” He sat up on his elbows, staring down at Yunho’s upturned face. “That’s how I feel sometimes when we’re so close and I can’t touch you. Well I can touch you but not how I want to.”
“I want to touch you that way too, Boo,” Yunho replied, reaching to pull Jaejoong close. He was stopped by the other man’s hand on his wrist, Jae turning to face him.
“Wait a bit. Listen to me.” He left a kiss on the tip of Yunho’s nose, licking up the straight bridge. Placing a finger on Yunho’s mouth, he held the man to silence. “I love that you let me be who I need to be. I like you.”
“And I know we’ve talked about each other but the truth is, I don’t always pay attention to what’s being said about me or what’s going on but when you’re talking, I listen.” Jaejoong continued. “I hear you, Yunho. I hear how you feel about me and how you say that you love me when you’re talking about something else. I do hear you.”
“Good,” Yunho kissed the tip of Jae’s finger, laving it until it was wet from his mouth. “You are my sexy Boo.”
“I know,” Jae said, yelping loudly when Yunho grabbed him, wrapping his arms around the singer’s waist.
The sex was more than physical that night, at least to the men who lay exposed to the moonlight coming through the window. Nude to the stars hidden behind the rain, they grasped at one another’s bodies, exploring familiar territories that had been left barren of touch, held apart by weeks on tour and flashing camera bulbs.
When Jaejoong slipped over Yunho’s sex, they both sighed, adjusting to the rarity of their bodies’ position. Straddling his lover, the singer leaned forward, resting up on his knees to gain control of his movements. Clenching down hard, he drew himself up, watching Yunho’s face transform with each downward thrust.
Yunho’s body pulled at him, stretching him apart. The fullness he received in his centre matched the swell in his heart, a tingle of his soul breaking over the rush of Yunho’s heart beating in time with his. Blood rushed through his limbs, thickening his own sex, the slender shaft trapped in the other man’s hand. Yunho’s fingers brushed along the sensitive skin, nerve endings raked to a screaming pitch in a few moments of heat and friction.
His hand steadied Jae against the wall, his hips moving harder down on Yunho. The other man matched each plunge with a force that drove Jae wild. Yunho’s free hand gripped tightly over his lover’s waist then down on the sweet rise of his ass, working them both into a fierce rocking. The bed squeaked underneath them, mattress springs unable to keep up with the rolling motion of their joined forms.
Yunho grabbed at his lover’s shoulders, pulling him down as he forced his sex up farther into Jae’s tightness. He was trying to reach something, a deep seated insecurity or perhaps the kernel of love that started their relationship but somehow Yunho knew that if he could just reach that spot, Jaejoong would be completely happy for the first time in his entire life.
It was the warmth of Yunho’s seed releasing into Jae’s spasming channel that broke the wall of the singer’s soul. Left open and exposed, he opened his eyes, staring into Yunho’s dark irises, marveling at the universe he found there. Stars lived in his lover’s soul, Jae was sure of it. And every night, Yunho unwrapped one and gave it to him, either in a kiss or there, in their joining. Regardless, each moon rise or fall, the other man would take down another light in the sky and present it along with his love.
“Aishiteru.” Jaejoong whispered, holding Yunho in his body, refusing to let the man slide out of him. Moving to rest his chin on the man’s chest, he bent his face up and kissed at the mouth he longed for nearly every waking moment of the day.
“That better not be something Changmin taught you,” Yunho said with a laugh, breathless from the exertion of their lovemaking.
“No Yunnie-ah,” Jae replied with a shake of his head, lethargy moving through his bones. “You taught me that one. Maybe not in Japanese but still you taught me that one.”
Sighing, Yunho moved carefully, easing Jae around so they could lay side by side. Spooning against his lover, he rubbed at Jaejoong’s belly, knowing the simple touch would lull the busy-minded singer to sleep. Bending close, he whispered hot into his lover’s neck, barely loud enough for the other man to hear.
“I love you too, baby. Haato.”