They never were lovers in the beginning, never mind what others might have thought. They all were very good friends, and it was just pure luck that he had met such great people to work and live with. He had heard stories about other bands, where the members felt little warmth toward each other and all their affectionate smiles and hugs were nothing more than a fake. And it made him feel even happier to have these four guys who were his best friends, his brothers.
They all were friends, had this strong bond with each other. Being the eldest, he and Yunho were considered 'the parents' of the group, they looked after the others and each other. He always knew that he could rely on Yunho, they all in fact. The boy was like a wall, both protecting them and giving an opportunity to lean on. He was always there, the strong presence that filled them with the certainty that no matter what it would be fine in the end.
He still couldn't help but thinking of Changmin and Junsu as kids. And kids they were all in the beginning, those two maybe be more than the rest, which made him want to pamper them. Or strangle. Sometimes. They all suited their roles perfectly: him and Yunho being the parents and those two being the kids. But Yoochun didn't fit in. With him it was always different.
It amazed Jaejoong how the two of them fitted each other. From the very start it just clicked. They were too alike in what they had seen, had endured, and too different in too many ways to count. Both too emotional and at the same time unable to express the true feelings. Maybe a bit jaded and restless for their own good. They could read each other with a single glance. They both carved being touched physically, though not exactly sexually. Yoochun often reminded him of a cat, constantly rubbing at his legs and demanding attention to be petted. And then he would purr. And something in Jaejoong's chest would tighten.
They touched a lot: a casual clasp of the hands, a hug, a snuggle on the couch. Jaejoong would allow Yoochun to crawl into his bed on sleepless nights, and Yoochun would let the elder boy use his lap as a pillow when they watched TV. An occasional peck on the cheek and affectionate ruffle of hair - no wonder others thought them to have a special relationship. But it never was anything but platonic. It was a line neither of them dared to bridge.
And maybe Jaejoong used to regret it, just a little, and maybe Yoochun used to hug him a bit tighter than the others, but only just a bit.
+++
They had to part their ways eventually. They knew perfectly well that one day it would have to end, DongBangShinKi would have to end, and they would split and pursue individual goals. But he never thought it would be that soon or so painful.
They kept in touch of course. Jaejoong knew of the others' achievements. Yunho was doing just great in some dance group. Changmin and Junsu were doing solo projects, just like himself, only that Junsu was mainly performing in China and they seldom saw each other. Yoochun went back to US, and although there were of course phone calls and emails, time difference and tight schedule took their toll and Jaejoong heard of him less and less with passing time.
It hurt at first, but later it simply mutated into a dull regret at the back of his heart. Out of sight, out of mind, they say. And maybe rightly so.
Sometimes when Jaejoong thought of Yoochun back then, he couldn't remember if all those touches they had shared had been real or he invented it all later. Maybe the light he had seen in the other's eyes had meant only friendship. Maybe it had all been his imagination.
Sometimes he wished he had been bolder or maybe had never been that bold. He thought that in their sort of profession, where it was hard to tell between the acting and true feelings, it was better to have no friends. And then he would scold himself for such stupidity. They had been kids back then, all of them. He would never know what would have changed, what difference it would have made, if he had crossed that line.
Everything. Or maybe nothing.
It was too late to tell.
+++
It's been five years, and seems like a lifetime ago, but still Jaejoong manages to recognize Yoochun at first sight. He gasps a little, eyes widening, but other from that he knows that his face betrays none of the thoughts that swirl in his head. Of all places to meet, it is SM building where in the busy corridors Jaejoong sees a flash of a familiar face.
It is Yoochun and he looks good. His hair brown and short, much like he had during their Rising Sun days, suits him well. He has matured, and Jaejoong knows that he has changed as well, and it suddenly pains him to know how much time has passed.
Yoochun is approaching him, his stride lazy and undoubtedly worked-out, one hand stuck in the pocket fashionably. And he knows he is attracting attention with his not so Asian appearance, that foreign glamour and confidence, which just screams American and a pop star. Yoochun's grin flashes and in spite of stylish sunglasses Jaejoong knows that he is staring right at him.
And it makes him both excited and scared.
They meet in the corridors of the company they both used to work for, clasp their hands in a polite manner, as if they are mere acquaintances, as if they haven't seen each other any more than few weeks.
As he accepts an invitation to dinner and 'catch up', all Jaejoong can think
of is, I don't know him.
+++
The dinner was supposed to make it easier, the wine lose their tongues and all. But Jaejoong finds himself swirling the amber liquid in his glass, watching Yoochun do the same. They are just half bottle through. And the silence is still awkward.
They talked about their careers, their prospects for future, about the rest of DBSG. They talked a little about how they had started, shared some old jokes. But they seem unable to talk about anything but show business. It frustrates Jaejoong to no end to know that both of their public masks are in place and they can't loosen up to trust each other like back then.
It takes time to get back to how they were, Jaejoong knows, and they don't have time. And maybe never will.
Suddenly Yoochun laughs and Jaejoong is startled from his thoughts by the richness of its sound. He feels himself returning the smile automatically, before he catches himself and gives the other a questioning look.
Yoochun just shakes his head and says amusement in his voice, 'Just look at us. We sit here, keeping silence as if it is the first time we see each other!'
But it feels like it is the first time, Jaejoong thinks, but he knows what Yoochun means. He can feel it too.
'It's been five years', he says gently, looking at him through the curtain of his eyelashes.
Yoochun nods and a cigarette finds its way from the pack to his lips. 'Old habits die hard', he said to Jaejoong once. And remembering this now he couldn't help but agree.
'I know', he says quietly. Something flashes in his eyes, and Jaejoong thinks he can almost see the boy who had cried his eyes out after their debut performance. He wonders what Yoochun can see in his face.
Then Yoochun smiles and his smile is so bright that it makes the older boy's heart beat painfully. He tilts his head just a little on one side and watches Jaejoong. 'If anything, I think you got prettier in these years', he says. His eyes measure him up, but Jaejoong makes himself not react, willing down the blush and refusing to hear the implications of the statement.
Jaejoong's gaze follows the other's hands route from the full lips to the ashtray and back. He thinks that he hears what he wants to hear. He knows that it is not the same Yoochun he used to know. He is as good as a stranger. But a stranger who knows him too well.
But his heart tells him different. It screams at him about all those lost possibilities and feelings that were locked up for too long. It tells him to act, to say, to look, to touch. That's why it is so easy for him to say those words, when Yoochun's free hand snakes round his wrist. When his touch is so warm and it immediately reminds him of all those touches they shared.
That's why Jaejoong says, 'Let's go to my place'.
And suddenly they move, leave the restaurant after quickly paying, fetch the taxi. It is all a blur for Jaejoong from that moment, because he can see nothing but Yoochun, can smell nothing but his spicy eau-de-cologne. And Yoochun keeps touching him: a hand at the small of his back, guiding him into the street, a press of his thigh during the drive, a ghostly touch of fingers over his cheek.
Maybe it is too late, maybe it is wrong. But it's been too long since he felt this excited, this giddy, this young.
Yoochun says nothing, when they enter his apartment. He just smiles, and walks around the place, examining things, looking perfectly at ease. It is Jaejoong who feels out of place, as if he is a stranger here and not the owner. Suddenly the apartment looks unfamiliar to him.
He fidgets and clears his throat. That earns him a quick glance and a smile. 'Coffee?' he asks finally, and to his relief Yoochun nods. Now he has something to occupy his shaking hands with. But the coffee machine is a new brand type and it produces the hot black liquid in no time. Sometimes Jaejoong really hates the modern technology.
The cups are set on a coffee table, but he flees to the kitchen again, busing himself with sugar and milk and something else. But he feels with his back that Yoochun follows him this time. He knows his nervousness shows, he knows he has to say something.
'I'm just fetching milk and sugar.. for coffee', he mentally curses his quivering voice. Jaejoong can almost see Yoochun arc an eyebrow, as he says with that sort of quiet amusement that just ticks him off, 'I thought you remembered that I drink my coffee black.'
Jaejoong turns, and Yoochun is too close. Almost trapping him at the counter. Almost. But not really.
'I thought.. Many things have changed since then', he looks away when he says it. He wonders vaguely if it is some sort of masochism to invite a person whose company he has missed the most and then keep reminding them both of the years that has passed. It is like picking at a half-healed wound.
'Have you?' Jaejoong looks up at him, momentarily confused by the question - so lost was he in his thoughts. Yoochun regards him seriously, all previous jest and seduction gone from his features. He just stands there, and Jaejoong aches for his touch. 'I don't know', he manages to answer. His hand rises like on its own accord and he wants to reach out and touch Yoochun, to know that he is real, that he is back.
The warm hands wind around him and he clings to Yoochun, fingers grasping the fabric. His face pressed to the other's shoulder, Jaejoong wants to cry, pour out all that pain and disappointments which he had to encounter during these years. He wants to tell him about his insecurities at the beginning of his solo career, of all those troubles that seemed to follow him, of all those people who betrayed him. And he wants to share all those moments of joy at managing it all, at achieving what he is now.
But all he does is shiver and whisper hoarsely, 'Have you?'
Yoochun chuckles and the sound vibrates pleasantly through the elder's frame. 'Sure I did', he says, 'just like you. But when I came here. When I saw you, I instantly knew that in fact nothing had changed. I am the same Mickey you used to use as a pillow.'
Now it is Jaejoong's time to smile. And he does so, pressing his face even closer to the other's shoulder, trying to breathe in his smell, absorb Yoochun with every pore of his body. When Yoochun moves to step back, he is embarrassed to hear a whimper escape him. But the warm hands move to cup his face, and gentle lips press to his mouth, and Jaejoong is grateful to be standing with his back pressing to the counter, because there is no way he can stand on his own.
They kiss and it is much better than he imagined during all these years. It is sweet and warm and familiar in many ways. It is perfect and mind-blowing and Jaejoong wishes he made that tiny first step those years ago. Yoochun's fingers slip under his t-shirt and he half-flinches, half-shudders because it is too much and too soon, and his mind fails to catch up.
Yoochun's lips graze over his cheek and move to nip at his earlobe. All common-sense has gone, and Jaejoong whimpers something incoherent about 'bed' and 'now' and Yoochun just laughs. 'I don't know which way the bedroom is', he teases.
They move, lips locked and hands moving over each other. They bump into a coffee table and Jaejoong is sure he hears a cup fall, the contents undoubtedly spoiling his carpet. Yoochun hits a shoulder at the doorframe, when they try to maneuver around a torchere into the bedroom.
The clothes are removed in hurry, almost ripped off, buttons fly in all directions. Their shirts gone, they are lying bare-chested on the bed. And suddenly Yoochun stops. He is hovering over Jaejoong, and the other can't read his face. The younger boy's regards him strangely.
'I wish', Yoochun starts, his eyes misty, 'I wish… five years ago… I wish had guts to tell you…'
Jaejoong understands. He embraces Yoochun, presses him close to his body. His
heart both sings with joy and bleeds with pain. 'I know', he whispers, 'I know.'
His shoulder is wet, and Jaejoong lets his hands gently rub the other's back. 'I
know', he whispers again, 'me too.'
They stay like this for some time. It strangely reminds Jaejoong of all those
times they would share a bed and hug each other through the night. It is
different now. Yoochun feels different in his arms now. He is heavier and he has
filled in some places where he used to be all bones and skin. But he smells the
same and it is liked being nineteen again.
Jaejoong smiles a little, his fingers going through the brown locks. 'So short', he mutters. It earns him a chuckle and a tug at one of his black ear-tails. 'So long', Yoochun teases. He pushes himself up to look down at Jaejoong, the small smile adorning his lips.
When their lips meet, Jaejoong feels perfectly at ease. When Yoochun's fingers reach for his waistband, he feels none of the previous giddiness. Their touches are perfect as if choreographed. They move in tandem and it is easy to forget that it is their first night together. But this line between 'then' and 'now', which is five years long, is slowly fading from Jaejoong's mind. They are joined at last and he is both sad and happy and doesn't want this moment to end and he is still a bit scared that he might wake up any second.
But he does not wake up, and Yoochun moving inside and above him is more than real, and soon - too soon - Jaejoong goes blind, as the blood rushes somewhere south and then all he can see is stars.
Yoochun is heavy, his uneven breathing tickles Jaejoong's skin, but he could spend days lying like this. But they don't have days, or weeks, only few hours till dawn. And then there is a plane to catch, and an interview to give, and maybe a song to write. And maybe it will be months till they meet again, but this time Jaejoong is sure - he will make sure - that the phone calls will be made and the emails will be sent. The Fate is pretty greedy when it comes to second chances and he is not going to waste this one.
Jaejoong moves to place a tiny kiss to the other's temple.
'Welcome back', he says.
~*~
date 07/07/06