Ripped Chords and Blue Jeans 6/?
Title: Ripped Chords and Blue Jeans 6/?
Pairing: Yoochun/Jaejoong (implied Yunho/Jaejoong)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would teach them how to play *pervs*
Summary: Yoochun is a piano instructor for children of the elite. When a bonafide prodigy lands on his piano bench, Yoochun falls hard
Warning: Underage sex. Yoochun is 24, Jaejoong is 15. Drug use, physical abuse (NOT Yoochun beating Jaejoong)
Poster credit goes to crazyaboutchun. Thank you darling! I love it! ♥
Part 6:
It was surreal. Confusing. Discomforting.
Yoochun crossed his arms and leaned back, watching Jaejoong do his homework. Everything about the scene appeared normal. What teacher wouldn’t sit at a table with his student and help him with his homework?
But the energy jilted every time Yoochun moved closer to look at a problem Jaejoong had a question with. Not that Yoochun could really help him with math. He’d barely finished high school, and he’d only passed because of a sympathetic teacher.
Jaejoong said nothing else to him.
Questions billowed through Yoochun’s mind. Who is hitting you? Why don’t you want to go home? Why hasn’t your mother called me back? Where do you sleep? Are you always with Yunho? What else do you do for drugs beside sell your body to a man twice your age?
Yoochun had no right to ask them.
Jaejoong expected him too.
“May I use your computer?” Jaejoong asked, more formal than he had been all day.
“For what?”
“Drug deals, prostitution rings, keep on the fly with my gang.” His fingers twisted and he made a gang!thug pose.
“That’s not funny, Jaejoong.”
“I have an essay to write for my Chinese History class.”
Yoochun went into the living room and brought back his laptop bag. He gave it to Jaejoong, and then decided he couldn’t be in the same … energy … as him. The piano called to him. He sat on the bench, picked up the drunken-doodles from the day before and attempted to turn it into something better. A cigarette burned between his lips as he played. A forgotten glass of whiskey left a ring on the wood.
High pitched and out of tune screeched through his notes. He jumped and looked up. Jaejoong smirked, four fingers on a harsh chord in the upper octave.
“Ah, now I have your attention. It’s two am. I’m going to sleep.”
“Two...” Yoochun trailed off. He looked at his almost-passable song and sighed. He’d have to finish it later. In that octave, Jaejoong suddenly played the melody and threw in his own little flare.
“Show off,” Yoochun muttered. “I hate it when you do that.”
Jaejoong turned his back and walked away. “I know that if we leave this up to you, it’s going to end up being awkward, but I’m tired. My body hurts, I feel like I’m going to explode and I just want to lay down, so I’m going to go to your bed and lay down and if you come and sleep with me then fine.”
Yoochun stared after him. “Jaejoong.”
Jaejoong stopped, but didn’t look at him.
“Do you want me to come and sleep with you?”
His head lowered, and then he nodded. Just once. Yoochun stood up. He turned off the lights, made sure his door was locked and then went to his room. The lamp on his nightstand was on. He set his alarm for six. Jaejoong was a lump under his covers.
Yoochun undressed. He’d normally crawl under the covers naked, or in boxers, but that night, he wore a pair of sweatpants.
He flipped the switch and doused the room in darkness.
“It’s freezing in here, hyung,” Jaejoong said as Yoochun climbed into the bed.
“I like it cold.”
“Yes, well, don’t consider this a come on or anything, but--” Jaejoong’s body pressed against his, arms sliding up his chest.
Yoochun gasped, fingers clenching the sheets.
“You’re warm. That’s all.”
Yoochun shut his eyes, but even in that darkness he could imagine the way Jaejoong’s burgundy hair fell over his chest. How those pink lips would look against his skin.
“Unless you don’t want it to be all,” Jaejoong whispered, and almost imperceptibly, he rocked his body against Yoochun’s.
“Don’t,” Yoochun said, voice low, pleading.
Jaejoong’s lips pressed against his left nipple. “Why not? You want to.”
“I won’t,” Yoochun said firmly. “Either behave or I’m going to go sleep on the couch.”
Yoochun felt Jaejoong’s pout against his skin. “I don’t understand you at all.” He propped up, hand flat on Yoochun’s chest. “Why won’t you fuck me?”
“Besides the fact that I’m almost ten years older than you?”
Jaejoong’s breath of frustration hit Yoochun in the cheek. “So what?”
Yoochun pushed Jaejoong’s shoulders away and lowered him to the bed, rolling them over. “I won’t lie to you,” Yoochun said and gave in by letting his lips fall to Jaejoong’s neck. “You’re beautiful, alluring, and yes, I very much want to have sex with you, but I’m not going to. Mostly because I’m your teacher, but also because you don’t have to. I think that you think that you have to, and you don’t have to, Jaejoong.”
“Please, just kiss me. I … I like being kissed,” he whispered. “It’s … it’s nice.”
Yoochun ran his fingers over Jaejoong’s cheeks. He knew that giving in now would mean difficulties later. His ability to say no to Jaejoong faded every minute he stayed pressed against him.
“Please, hyung, just … please. Kiss me like you love me.” His voice broke at the end.
Yoochun’s fingers were suddenly wet with tears. He leaned down and kissed the corners of Jaejoong’s eyes. His hands went around Yoochun’s back, clenching the bare skin as his body shook. Lips brushed his cheek, begging with small movement, and Yoochun caved. He turned his head and let their mouths join. Jaejoong whimpered into the kiss, turning it into a desperate tangle of tongues. Yoochun slid his hand into Jaejoong’s hair, holding him while he tilted his head for a cleaner angle. Jaejoong’s moans tore his soul, burned his skin and zapped his nerves.
He pulled away from Jaejoong, unsure if he’d even kissed him, the physical feeling gone, but his lips pounded. He landed on his back and it felt like he fell from ten feet up onto concrete. He couldn’t breathe.
And then warmth molded onto his side, lips pressed against his shoulder. Heat trailed over his heart.
“Good night, hyung.”
Colors of gray faded into his vision as he stared at the ceiling, chest heaving from the simple kiss. He did not sleep, and listened to Jaejoong breathe.
♪-♪-♪
“You look like shit, hyung,” Jaejoong said at the kitchen table.
Yoochun sipped on his coffee. He didn’t know how to reply to that. Blame Jaejoong, blame himself, blame his waking nightmares. Jaejoong’s bruises on his face had disappeared under a layer of makeup. Besides a slight swelling above his lip, he looked as perfect as ever.
Jaejoong asked, “Is there time for breakfast?”
“We’ll grab something on the way. When’s your first class?”
“Eight.”
“We’ll have to get it to go. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jaejoong stood up and put his coffee cup in the sink. Yoochun put his face in his hands.
Jaejoong scoffed and said, “Glad to know I’m an unwanted burden.”
“What?” Yoochun said, looking at him, but Jaejoong was already out of the kitchen. Yoochun went after him, caught him in the wall and stopped him. But Jaejoong struggled and Yoochun pushed him up against the wall with his thigh.
Jaejoong’s eyes shut. His lower lip quivered.
“Sorry,” Yoochun said, loosening his hold but not letting him free. “You are not an unwanted burden. Don’t ever think that.”
“It’d help if people would stop treating me like that.” His voice shook, but he just stopped his tears.
Yoochun smiled and bent down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You are not an unwanted burden,” Yoochun repeated. “You can come here anytime you want. You can parade around half naked and drive me absolutely, seductively insane whenever you want. And more importantly, you can come over and play my piano whenever you want.”
Jaejoong fingers played with the top button on Yoochun’s suit coat. “I’m sorry, hyung. I …”
Yoochun caught his chin lightly with his fingers. He kissed him again, pressing his tongue against his lower lip. Jaejoong shivered, hands sliding in the coat and to Yoochun’s sides.
“And Jaejoong, you can talk to me whenever you want. Yes, I find you incredibly attractive, but I’m your teacher first. A huge part of me is so pissed off that someone is hurting you, and a smaller part is pissed that you won’t tell me who it is.”
Jaejoong bit his lower lip. “I … I c-can’t, h-hyung.”
“I know. You should.” Yoochun kissed him again. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
Yoochun turned away from him before he kept Jaejoong there and kissed all his worries away, and kissed every bruise on his body. He grabbed his laptop bag and his suitcase. Jaejoong hefted his backpack over his shoulder.
Outside, they shared a cigarette as they walked two blocks to the main road and then Yoochun flagged down a taxi.
“You should let me out early,” Jaejoong said.
“Why?”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “A little suspicious, isn’t it? Me getting out of a cab with you.”
“So what? We tell people I saw you walking and picked you up on the way.”
Jaejoong pouted, and then nodded. “Not as dumb as you look, sonsaengnim.”
The cab driver shot a look at Yoochun.
Yoochun shook his head. “It’s not what it sounds like,” he said.
“Hey, whatever,” the cabby said with a smirk.
A few minutes later, they stopped at the cafe closest to school. Yoochun bought more coffee and a few things for breakfast.
“Thanks, sonsaengnim,” Jaejoong said, and in a swirl of khaki-school-uniform, Jaejoong turned and left the shop.
Yoochun sighed. He sat at the coffee shop, not really wanting to go into school yet. His class wasn’t until the afternoon. His phone rang with a vaguely familiar number and he had a moment of fear, since this weekend had been a weekend of strange phone calls.
“This is Yoochun.”
“Oh, hello, Sonsaengnim Park. This is Giyeon, Jaejoong’s mother.”
“Hello,” Yoochun said, carefully.
“Is this a bad time for you?”
“No, I’m having coffee.”
“Jaejoong isn’t in any trouble, is he?” Her voice made it seem like she had no idea what went on in Jaejoong’s life. Yoochun was not surprised.
“No. I only called to let you know how well Jaejoong was doing in my class. The other parents had called, and I figured you would like to know.”
“Oh that’s a relief. He’s not causing any problems?”
“Not in my class. He loves to play. Is he having problems in other classes?” Yoochun already knew the answer to that question.
“He’s a great kid.” And that didn’t answer the question at all.
“He really is, Mrs. Kim Giyeon. He’s an incredible musician. I’m taking his innate ability to play and teaching him how to write his own songs.”
“I’ve missed the sound of him playing at home.”
“He doesn’t play at home.”
“Oh … um, … I’m sure he does. I just … I get busy, Professor Park and sometimes, I don’t get to hear him play.”
“Well, you’re in luck. His first recital is in two weeks. And we’ve been focusing on jazz and blue grass. He’s working really hard.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’m going to miss it.”
“What?”
“His father and I will be in Milan that weekend. It’s an important business function that we can’t miss.”
“Oh. I see.” Yoochun’s heart hurt for Jaejoong.
“One of his sisters will be able to go though. I talked with Gilin, and she says that she will go if she’s able. Those two are so close, since they share a house.”
“Share a house?”
“Oh, yes. Didn’t Jaejoong say? He lives at his sister’s home on the estate. His request. I’m not sure why, but with his father and I gone most of the time, it’s good for him to be around someone. He gets so lost sometimes.” She sounded like she regretted that, but she also had no plans on changing that.
“Oh. Just remember, parental support is very important for someone Jaejoong’s age.”
“We are fine parents, Mr. Park.”
Yoochun stiffened at the lack of his formal title. “Yes, I did not mean to imply anything. Well, I have to go,” he lied. “The next recital is the third weekend in October. Hopefully you can come to that one.”
“We will try. Thank you, Mr. Park for your concern over our son.” And then she hung up.
Yoochun sighed and put the phone in his pocket. No wonder Jaejoong felt so unwanted. But it still didn’t explain who was beating on him. If his parents were never around, then that probably meant it wasn’t them. Possibly the sister, or her husband if she was married. Jaejoong never wanted to go home. It couldn’t be merely a coincidence.
♪-♪-♪
Class felt like it lasted forever. Yoochun gave up teaching and let the girls play. They had a mini-piano war where one would start a song, and the other had to finish it, with no music. Jaejoong was not allowed to play since he would win. Jaejoong stayed at his desk, scribbling on a piece of paper.
Yoochun walked over to him at one point, saw that he was writing out music notes, and then moved away without disturbing him.
When class was finally over, Jaejoong lagged behind, but he didn’t say anything. As soon as the door shut behind the last girl, he dug into his bag and pulled out his jeans. With a glance at Yoochun, he took off his school shirt, and then slipped out of his pants. Yoochun was hard in a moment, because Jaejoong was not wearing underwear. His naked skin disappeared behind the jeans and Jaejoong’s hands shook as he buttoned all the buttons. The white button down shirt fell from his shoulders, revealing one of Yoochun’s tank tops, but it stayed on and Jaejoong pulled on his hoody. The last thing he added were his headphones.
Their eyes met again, and then Jaejoong turned and left the room. Yoochun felt as if he had done something wrong. Had Jaejoong wanted him to touch him, or to kiss him, or to do something? If Yoochun hadn’t been so frozen, he probably would have. But Jaejoong’s inherent sexuality made him stupid.
Yoochun sent him a text. I will not try to be overbearing with worry for you, but it’s there. If you need anything, call me. If you need someplace to stay, come over. Please. Anytime, any day.
Jaejoong sent him back a weird emoticon that Yoochun did not understand.
Yoochun sighed and added, Cocaine and sex aren’t the answers, just remember that.
Yeah, whatever. Thanks, hyung. Doesn’t mean much when you want to bend me over and fuck me. When you have a better solution, let me know.
Part 7: Sharp Chords
Part 5: Broken Chords
Part 4: Tattered Jeans
Part 3: Shaken Chords
Part 2: Holey Jeans
Part 1: Common Chords
.
Pairing: Yoochun/Jaejoong (implied Yunho/Jaejoong)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would teach them how to play *pervs*
Summary: Yoochun is a piano instructor for children of the elite. When a bonafide prodigy lands on his piano bench, Yoochun falls hard
Warning: Underage sex. Yoochun is 24, Jaejoong is 15. Drug use, physical abuse (NOT Yoochun beating Jaejoong)
Poster credit goes to crazyaboutchun. Thank you darling! I love it! ♥
Part 6:
It was surreal. Confusing. Discomforting.
Yoochun crossed his arms and leaned back, watching Jaejoong do his homework. Everything about the scene appeared normal. What teacher wouldn’t sit at a table with his student and help him with his homework?
But the energy jilted every time Yoochun moved closer to look at a problem Jaejoong had a question with. Not that Yoochun could really help him with math. He’d barely finished high school, and he’d only passed because of a sympathetic teacher.
Jaejoong said nothing else to him.
Questions billowed through Yoochun’s mind. Who is hitting you? Why don’t you want to go home? Why hasn’t your mother called me back? Where do you sleep? Are you always with Yunho? What else do you do for drugs beside sell your body to a man twice your age?
Yoochun had no right to ask them.
Jaejoong expected him too.
“May I use your computer?” Jaejoong asked, more formal than he had been all day.
“For what?”
“Drug deals, prostitution rings, keep on the fly with my gang.” His fingers twisted and he made a gang!thug pose.
“That’s not funny, Jaejoong.”
“I have an essay to write for my Chinese History class.”
Yoochun went into the living room and brought back his laptop bag. He gave it to Jaejoong, and then decided he couldn’t be in the same … energy … as him. The piano called to him. He sat on the bench, picked up the drunken-doodles from the day before and attempted to turn it into something better. A cigarette burned between his lips as he played. A forgotten glass of whiskey left a ring on the wood.
High pitched and out of tune screeched through his notes. He jumped and looked up. Jaejoong smirked, four fingers on a harsh chord in the upper octave.
“Ah, now I have your attention. It’s two am. I’m going to sleep.”
“Two...” Yoochun trailed off. He looked at his almost-passable song and sighed. He’d have to finish it later. In that octave, Jaejoong suddenly played the melody and threw in his own little flare.
“Show off,” Yoochun muttered. “I hate it when you do that.”
Jaejoong turned his back and walked away. “I know that if we leave this up to you, it’s going to end up being awkward, but I’m tired. My body hurts, I feel like I’m going to explode and I just want to lay down, so I’m going to go to your bed and lay down and if you come and sleep with me then fine.”
Yoochun stared after him. “Jaejoong.”
Jaejoong stopped, but didn’t look at him.
“Do you want me to come and sleep with you?”
His head lowered, and then he nodded. Just once. Yoochun stood up. He turned off the lights, made sure his door was locked and then went to his room. The lamp on his nightstand was on. He set his alarm for six. Jaejoong was a lump under his covers.
Yoochun undressed. He’d normally crawl under the covers naked, or in boxers, but that night, he wore a pair of sweatpants.
He flipped the switch and doused the room in darkness.
“It’s freezing in here, hyung,” Jaejoong said as Yoochun climbed into the bed.
“I like it cold.”
“Yes, well, don’t consider this a come on or anything, but--” Jaejoong’s body pressed against his, arms sliding up his chest.
Yoochun gasped, fingers clenching the sheets.
“You’re warm. That’s all.”
Yoochun shut his eyes, but even in that darkness he could imagine the way Jaejoong’s burgundy hair fell over his chest. How those pink lips would look against his skin.
“Unless you don’t want it to be all,” Jaejoong whispered, and almost imperceptibly, he rocked his body against Yoochun’s.
“Don’t,” Yoochun said, voice low, pleading.
Jaejoong’s lips pressed against his left nipple. “Why not? You want to.”
“I won’t,” Yoochun said firmly. “Either behave or I’m going to go sleep on the couch.”
Yoochun felt Jaejoong’s pout against his skin. “I don’t understand you at all.” He propped up, hand flat on Yoochun’s chest. “Why won’t you fuck me?”
“Besides the fact that I’m almost ten years older than you?”
Jaejoong’s breath of frustration hit Yoochun in the cheek. “So what?”
Yoochun pushed Jaejoong’s shoulders away and lowered him to the bed, rolling them over. “I won’t lie to you,” Yoochun said and gave in by letting his lips fall to Jaejoong’s neck. “You’re beautiful, alluring, and yes, I very much want to have sex with you, but I’m not going to. Mostly because I’m your teacher, but also because you don’t have to. I think that you think that you have to, and you don’t have to, Jaejoong.”
“Please, just kiss me. I … I like being kissed,” he whispered. “It’s … it’s nice.”
Yoochun ran his fingers over Jaejoong’s cheeks. He knew that giving in now would mean difficulties later. His ability to say no to Jaejoong faded every minute he stayed pressed against him.
“Please, hyung, just … please. Kiss me like you love me.” His voice broke at the end.
Yoochun’s fingers were suddenly wet with tears. He leaned down and kissed the corners of Jaejoong’s eyes. His hands went around Yoochun’s back, clenching the bare skin as his body shook. Lips brushed his cheek, begging with small movement, and Yoochun caved. He turned his head and let their mouths join. Jaejoong whimpered into the kiss, turning it into a desperate tangle of tongues. Yoochun slid his hand into Jaejoong’s hair, holding him while he tilted his head for a cleaner angle. Jaejoong’s moans tore his soul, burned his skin and zapped his nerves.
He pulled away from Jaejoong, unsure if he’d even kissed him, the physical feeling gone, but his lips pounded. He landed on his back and it felt like he fell from ten feet up onto concrete. He couldn’t breathe.
And then warmth molded onto his side, lips pressed against his shoulder. Heat trailed over his heart.
“Good night, hyung.”
Colors of gray faded into his vision as he stared at the ceiling, chest heaving from the simple kiss. He did not sleep, and listened to Jaejoong breathe.
♪-♪-♪
“You look like shit, hyung,” Jaejoong said at the kitchen table.
Yoochun sipped on his coffee. He didn’t know how to reply to that. Blame Jaejoong, blame himself, blame his waking nightmares. Jaejoong’s bruises on his face had disappeared under a layer of makeup. Besides a slight swelling above his lip, he looked as perfect as ever.
Jaejoong asked, “Is there time for breakfast?”
“We’ll grab something on the way. When’s your first class?”
“Eight.”
“We’ll have to get it to go. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jaejoong stood up and put his coffee cup in the sink. Yoochun put his face in his hands.
Jaejoong scoffed and said, “Glad to know I’m an unwanted burden.”
“What?” Yoochun said, looking at him, but Jaejoong was already out of the kitchen. Yoochun went after him, caught him in the wall and stopped him. But Jaejoong struggled and Yoochun pushed him up against the wall with his thigh.
Jaejoong’s eyes shut. His lower lip quivered.
“Sorry,” Yoochun said, loosening his hold but not letting him free. “You are not an unwanted burden. Don’t ever think that.”
“It’d help if people would stop treating me like that.” His voice shook, but he just stopped his tears.
Yoochun smiled and bent down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You are not an unwanted burden,” Yoochun repeated. “You can come here anytime you want. You can parade around half naked and drive me absolutely, seductively insane whenever you want. And more importantly, you can come over and play my piano whenever you want.”
Jaejoong fingers played with the top button on Yoochun’s suit coat. “I’m sorry, hyung. I …”
Yoochun caught his chin lightly with his fingers. He kissed him again, pressing his tongue against his lower lip. Jaejoong shivered, hands sliding in the coat and to Yoochun’s sides.
“And Jaejoong, you can talk to me whenever you want. Yes, I find you incredibly attractive, but I’m your teacher first. A huge part of me is so pissed off that someone is hurting you, and a smaller part is pissed that you won’t tell me who it is.”
Jaejoong bit his lower lip. “I … I c-can’t, h-hyung.”
“I know. You should.” Yoochun kissed him again. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
Yoochun turned away from him before he kept Jaejoong there and kissed all his worries away, and kissed every bruise on his body. He grabbed his laptop bag and his suitcase. Jaejoong hefted his backpack over his shoulder.
Outside, they shared a cigarette as they walked two blocks to the main road and then Yoochun flagged down a taxi.
“You should let me out early,” Jaejoong said.
“Why?”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “A little suspicious, isn’t it? Me getting out of a cab with you.”
“So what? We tell people I saw you walking and picked you up on the way.”
Jaejoong pouted, and then nodded. “Not as dumb as you look, sonsaengnim.”
The cab driver shot a look at Yoochun.
Yoochun shook his head. “It’s not what it sounds like,” he said.
“Hey, whatever,” the cabby said with a smirk.
A few minutes later, they stopped at the cafe closest to school. Yoochun bought more coffee and a few things for breakfast.
“Thanks, sonsaengnim,” Jaejoong said, and in a swirl of khaki-school-uniform, Jaejoong turned and left the shop.
Yoochun sighed. He sat at the coffee shop, not really wanting to go into school yet. His class wasn’t until the afternoon. His phone rang with a vaguely familiar number and he had a moment of fear, since this weekend had been a weekend of strange phone calls.
“This is Yoochun.”
“Oh, hello, Sonsaengnim Park. This is Giyeon, Jaejoong’s mother.”
“Hello,” Yoochun said, carefully.
“Is this a bad time for you?”
“No, I’m having coffee.”
“Jaejoong isn’t in any trouble, is he?” Her voice made it seem like she had no idea what went on in Jaejoong’s life. Yoochun was not surprised.
“No. I only called to let you know how well Jaejoong was doing in my class. The other parents had called, and I figured you would like to know.”
“Oh that’s a relief. He’s not causing any problems?”
“Not in my class. He loves to play. Is he having problems in other classes?” Yoochun already knew the answer to that question.
“He’s a great kid.” And that didn’t answer the question at all.
“He really is, Mrs. Kim Giyeon. He’s an incredible musician. I’m taking his innate ability to play and teaching him how to write his own songs.”
“I’ve missed the sound of him playing at home.”
“He doesn’t play at home.”
“Oh … um, … I’m sure he does. I just … I get busy, Professor Park and sometimes, I don’t get to hear him play.”
“Well, you’re in luck. His first recital is in two weeks. And we’ve been focusing on jazz and blue grass. He’s working really hard.”
“I know. I’m sorry I’m going to miss it.”
“What?”
“His father and I will be in Milan that weekend. It’s an important business function that we can’t miss.”
“Oh. I see.” Yoochun’s heart hurt for Jaejoong.
“One of his sisters will be able to go though. I talked with Gilin, and she says that she will go if she’s able. Those two are so close, since they share a house.”
“Share a house?”
“Oh, yes. Didn’t Jaejoong say? He lives at his sister’s home on the estate. His request. I’m not sure why, but with his father and I gone most of the time, it’s good for him to be around someone. He gets so lost sometimes.” She sounded like she regretted that, but she also had no plans on changing that.
“Oh. Just remember, parental support is very important for someone Jaejoong’s age.”
“We are fine parents, Mr. Park.”
Yoochun stiffened at the lack of his formal title. “Yes, I did not mean to imply anything. Well, I have to go,” he lied. “The next recital is the third weekend in October. Hopefully you can come to that one.”
“We will try. Thank you, Mr. Park for your concern over our son.” And then she hung up.
Yoochun sighed and put the phone in his pocket. No wonder Jaejoong felt so unwanted. But it still didn’t explain who was beating on him. If his parents were never around, then that probably meant it wasn’t them. Possibly the sister, or her husband if she was married. Jaejoong never wanted to go home. It couldn’t be merely a coincidence.
♪-♪-♪
Class felt like it lasted forever. Yoochun gave up teaching and let the girls play. They had a mini-piano war where one would start a song, and the other had to finish it, with no music. Jaejoong was not allowed to play since he would win. Jaejoong stayed at his desk, scribbling on a piece of paper.
Yoochun walked over to him at one point, saw that he was writing out music notes, and then moved away without disturbing him.
When class was finally over, Jaejoong lagged behind, but he didn’t say anything. As soon as the door shut behind the last girl, he dug into his bag and pulled out his jeans. With a glance at Yoochun, he took off his school shirt, and then slipped out of his pants. Yoochun was hard in a moment, because Jaejoong was not wearing underwear. His naked skin disappeared behind the jeans and Jaejoong’s hands shook as he buttoned all the buttons. The white button down shirt fell from his shoulders, revealing one of Yoochun’s tank tops, but it stayed on and Jaejoong pulled on his hoody. The last thing he added were his headphones.
Their eyes met again, and then Jaejoong turned and left the room. Yoochun felt as if he had done something wrong. Had Jaejoong wanted him to touch him, or to kiss him, or to do something? If Yoochun hadn’t been so frozen, he probably would have. But Jaejoong’s inherent sexuality made him stupid.
Yoochun sent him a text. I will not try to be overbearing with worry for you, but it’s there. If you need anything, call me. If you need someplace to stay, come over. Please. Anytime, any day.
Jaejoong sent him back a weird emoticon that Yoochun did not understand.
Yoochun sighed and added, Cocaine and sex aren’t the answers, just remember that.
Yeah, whatever. Thanks, hyung. Doesn’t mean much when you want to bend me over and fuck me. When you have a better solution, let me know.
Part 7: Sharp Chords
Part 5: Broken Chords
Part 4: Tattered Jeans
Part 3: Shaken Chords
Part 2: Holey Jeans
Part 1: Common Chords
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