Ripped Chords and Blue Jeans 9/?
Title: Ripped Chords and Blue Jeans 9/?
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)
This chapter is NC-17.
Poster credit goes to crazyaboutchun. Thank you darling! I love it! ♥
Part 9:
This chapter is NC-17
It took Yoochun a very long time to get up. With only a few hours of sleep and his body still aching, he wanted to say fuck it and call in sick. But he couldn’t do that to his students.
Jaejoong sprawled on the bed next to him with his arm was flung over Yoochun’s stomach. Reluctantly, Yoochun slid over and out of bed. A dull ache spread through his lower back as he went to the kitchen and started coffee. Cigarette burning, he moved through his darkened apartment. He trailed fingers over the keys, but not pressing. He did not want to disturb Jaejoong, but Jaejoong had to get to school.
He stubbed out his cigarette and went back to the bedroom. Jaejoong had rolled to his side. His hands and legs jerked like he was dreaming.
Yoochun kneeled on the edge of the bed and leaned down enough to kiss his arm, from elbow to shoulder. Jaejoong shivered when Yoochun kissed his neck, and then he moaned, rolling to his back. Yoochun moved his lips to Jaejoong chest, again kissing the faded bruises.
“Hm, hy-hyung,” Jaejoong whined.
“You have school.”
“I’m not going.”
“You have to.”
“Don’t care.” Jaejoong flipped to his other side, away from Yoochun. “I feel like shit.”
Yoochun did not stop kissing Jaejoong’s skin, trailing his lips down his bare back, over his bony hip.
“Damn it, hyung.” Jaejoong spun to his back again, and Yoochun moved his lips accordingly. Down his thigh, and then back up until he breathed hot air on Jaejoong’s hardening cock.
Yoochun smiled as it twitched.
“I hate you,” Jaejoong said with a pout.
“Sure you do,” Yoochun replied and licked at the head.
Jaejoong moaned.
Yoochun cupped Jaejoong’s thigh, spreading his leg and lifting his head at the same time. With fingers teasing his sack, Yoochun closed his lips around Jaejoong’s shaft, sliding his mouth up. Jaejoong’s hand fell on his head with a whimper. Gripping his balls firmly, Yoochun sucked the soft head of Jaejoong’s cock into his mouth, lips stretched around the width.
God, this kid.
“Fuck, hyung,” Jaejoong gasped as Yoochun took half of his cock into his throat at once. His mouth was not quite as capable as taking all of Jaejoong like his ass was, so Yoochun wrapped his hand around and rubbed the shaft while sucking on the head, dipping to take more.
Jaejoong’s legs spread and he jerked his hips up with a cry, pulling Yoochun’s hair with every trip into Yoochun’s mouth.
Yoochun knew he didn’t have time for much more than this, but god, he wanted … no, he had to feel this kid inside him again. He let Jaejoong’s cock go and rolled away, ignoring the boy’s protest.
“I was so close,” Jaejoong whimpered.
“I know.” Yoochun went to his dresser and grabbed a condom. The bottle of lube was on the floor. He ripped the condom open on his way to the bed, and then had it rolled onto Jaejoong’s erection in a moment.
“Fuck, hyung, I …”
Yoochun kissed him to shut him up. “Get on your damn knees and fuck me.”
Jaejoong smirked. “No.”
“Jaejoong.”
“I’m saying no. So if you sit on my cock that makes it rape. Shame on you, naughty sonsaengnim, raping your student.”
“Jaejoong,” Yoochun said, this time with a whine and a pout. “I want you.”
Jaejoong put his arms around Yoochun’s neck. “I’ll fuck you if you let me go back to sleep and skip school.”
Yoochun let out a huff of frustration. “I can’t make you go to school, Jae.”
“Good answer.” Jaejoong kissed him and then sat up.
Yoochun knew better than this. He should have … should have … He moaned as Jaejoong’s slick fingers slipped inside him. “No-no p-prep. It’s … good. Just do it.”
“Such a slut,” Jaejoong said.
The head of his cock pushed against Yoochun’s entrance, and Yoochun moaned Jaejoong’s name. His plea to be fucked was lost in a cry as Jaejoong thrust forward, stretching him open. Yoochun put his head to the bed and moaned as Jaejoong pushed into him until their skin pressed together.
Mind blank, eyes shut tight enough to leak tears, Yoochun wondered if this was what heaven felt like, reminded himself that he had no chance of going to heaven because Jaejoong was only fifteen and then decided that Jaejoong just sitting there was torturous enough to have it be what hell felt like.
“Move, please, Jaejoong, please.”
Jaejoong shuddered and slipped out a couple inches, before slamming back in, tearing a startled cry from Yoochun. His hand was immediately stroking his cock as Jaejoong thrust into him hard and fast.
“Fuck, hyung, why … just … fuck.”
Yoochun agreed with a groan and a whimper as his orgasm suddenly crashed through him. Mouth open, biting down on the bed, body stilling, and then jerking as everything crashed around him, and his release covered the sheets below him. Jaejoong cursed again, and sped up. His hands tightened on Yoochun’s ass and then he fell forward, as his body twitched through his orgasm.
Jaejoong collapsed and Yoochun landed in his own mess with a grunt. Jaejoong’s breath panted between his shoulder blades.
“Is it too late for me to demand that you skip with me too?”
“Yes, and I can’t do that. I have lessons.”
Jaejoong rolled off him with a moan. The condom made a wet noise as it half slipped from his cock. “Clean me up, sonsaengnim. It’s your fault.”
Yoochun smiled. He propped up on an elbow and kissed Jaejoong’s cheek. “Yes, Leader of the Universe.”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Lame. Just call me master.”
Yoochun chuckled and kissed him on the lips. “Just lay there and be beautiful.” He sat up and removed the condom, tying it off. He licked up the few stray drops of Jaejoong’s come and then sucked on the head of his cock. Jaejoong laughed and pushed him away. Yoochun stood up. He scraped most of his come off the bed with the towel they used the night before and then cleaned off his hand and body.
“You’re such a fucker,” Jaejoong said, yawning.
“Why?”
“Tell me why you’re not, and then I’ll tell you why you are.” Jaejoong rolled onto his side and flung the blanket over his body.
Yoochun chuckled. He leaned over the bed and kissed Jaejoong’s cheek. “See you later, master.”
Yoochun took a long shower. Afterwards, he did his best to dress quietly so he wouldn’t wake Jaejoong up. The kid definitely needed more sleep. And Yoochun needed more coffee. He moved to the kitchen, and made a quick bite to eat while coffee brewed. He had about fifteen minutes before he absolutely had to leave.
Normally he’d play the piano for those few minutes. He went to the living room, and stopped, staring at Jaejoong’s bag.
Two sides fought within him: look, be nosy, make sure he didn’t have any drugs; or respect his privacy, not go through his things. Yoochun couldn’t tell which was the devil and which was the angel in this situation.
With a sigh, he hefted the bag and sat it on a chair. It was bulky and he found out why when Jaejoong’s school uniform almost burst from it. It was amazing the thing was never wrinkled. He checked the pockets, and then put the uniform on the floor. School books, notebooks, pens calculator. Nothing seemed amiss. Every pocket had something in it. Yoochun nodded in relief, and then remembered.
When he was seventeen, running on the streets with a fear of not cops, but thugs, he always had a spot for his drugs. And more than once, even after he’d been left bleeding and robbed, no one ever seemed to find that.
Yoochun dumped everything from Jaejoong’s and with a sigh, saw the hidden pocket at the bottom.
He unzipped it, and then shut his eyes as a baggie of white powder was revealed. After tossing it on the floor, he turned the back bag inside out, looking for more, but that was the only one. Another pocket, not as hidden, held a few hundred won. Yoochun shoved everything back in the bag, zipped it up and put it on the floor.
Baggie in hand, he was half way to his room to demand an explanation when the image of Jaejoong sleeping filled his mind. He couldn’t wake him up. Not now. He’d talk to him after he returned from class. He went to the bathroom and flushed the cocaine, baggie and all.
He didn’t trust himself to steal a kiss from Jaejoong and not shake him until Jaejoong understood how dangerous his life was, so he didn’t go back to the bedroom. He picked up his briefcase and laptop case and went to school.
It was hard to concentrate on his lessons and he felt so bad because they had a recital to prepare for.
A little after noon, he received a text message. He knew it’d be Jaejoong, so he ignored it until he was on his way home.
Thanks for going through my shit, bitch. I hate you.
Yoochun sighed. He wanted to text Jaejoong back, but what did he say? It’s for your own good. … or how about You’ll thank me when you’re older.? None of those worked on an emotionally charged teenager. It only pissed them off more, made them rebel harder.
Finally he settled on: You can come over whenever you want. But don’t bring drugs into my house again.
He wasn’t surprised when Jaejoong was gone when he got home. On his kitchen table, written in ketchup of all things were three words I trusted you.
Every text Yoochun sent him came back as undeliverable. Jaejoong had blocked him.
And for the second weekend in a row, Yoochun drank himself into a stupor and played the piano.
♪-♪-♪-♪
Monday morning, Jaejoong was not in class. Yoochun tried to concentrate on his lessons. The girls were working so hard on their music pieces. He felt like an utter asshole for neglecting them over a cute piece of troubled emotions.
After class, Jaelin hung back and played with the lower keys on the piano.
“Did you need something, Jaelin?”
She bit her lip. “Do you know where Jaejoong is, oppa?”
Yoochun shook his head. “No. I don’t.”
“He … he won’t answer his phone.”
“You got his number?” Yoochun said with a smile.
Jaelin blushed. “Yeah, but … it’s … we’re just friends, oppa. Jaejoong is … we’re just friends.”
Yoochun wondered when Jaejoong had told her his little secret. The other girls were still devising ways of confessing to Jaejoong.
“I’m worried about him,” Jaelin said.
“Why? He’s probably just sick.”
“He … I’m … worried, oppa, I really like him, and if I tell you, you have to promise that you won’t tell him it was me.”
“I promise,” Yoochun said, but he had a feeling nothing she said would be anything new.
“He … asked me if I had ever done drugs, and I told him no, and then he said that was good and that I never should ever do drugs and I told him I wouldn’t but when I said you shouldn’t do drugs either, he got really quiet and then after a long time said that he wasn’t, but I think he was lying and …”
“Jaelin, sh, it’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“You don’t think he’s doing drugs, do you, oppa?”
Yoochun refused to break this young girl’s heart about one of her friends. He shook his head. “No, Jaelin. I don’t. He’s too smart for that. Maybe someone in his family is.”
She looked down and then nodded.
“Has he said anything else to you? About troubles in his life?”
“No, oppa. We mainly talk about music.”
“Okay. Go on home. I’ll call Jaejoong’s parents and see if he stayed home today.”
Jaelin nodded and left the room. Yoochun didn’t call Jaejoong’s parents, because he doubted they’d answer, and he doubted they’d care, but he also did not want to get Jaejoong in trouble. This was more than just a student playing hooky.
He went home utterly worried and depressed. He didn’t eat or drink or play. All he did was pace his living room. Back and forth, chewing on his nails and cursing himself. It really was his fault. He sat hard on the couch, head in his hands.
He shouldn’t have gone through Jaejoong’s things. It would have been better to ask the kid not to bring drugs into his house. Jaejoong liked him. Jaejoong would have respected his request.
It was almost two a.m. when Yoochun was startled out of sleep by a knock on his door. He jumped up, rushing, flinging it open. But it wasn’t Jaejoong on the other side.
The older looking man stumbled through an apology and bowed. “A-are you Park Yoochun?” he asked and held out a piece of paper.
It was Yoochun’s business card. He nodded, reaching for it. There was a deep red smudge on the side that Yoochun hoped wasn’t blood.
“I’m a cab driver, sir, and there’s a young man in my cab and he’s passed out and in rough shape. I … he said to take him here and then … yeah. I can’t …”
Yoochun felt his stomach drop to his feet, and his head went light. He grabbed his keys and his phone and told the driver to lead the way to his cab. His steps were heavy, terrified at what he’d find, and it was so much worse than he’d imagined.
Jaejoong’s face was covered in dried blood, his right eye was swollen shut. All he wore was a ripped tank top and a pair of light blue jeans, no shoes even. There was blood on his arms and his legs.
Yoochun fell to his knees next to the car. He tapped Jaejoong’s cheeks, trying to get him to wake up, saying his name softly. Panicked, he lifted Jaejoong’s eyelid, saw the utterly blown pupils and almost threw up.
“Fuck. Can you take us to the nearest hospital?”
“Yes.”
Yoochun lifted Jaejoong enough and sat down. “Speed. If you get pulled over, I’ll pay your ticket.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yoochun continued to try to wake Jaejoong up. His eyes roved over his body and saw cuts on his stomach and from the blood on his pants, Yoochun knew there were more on his legs.
“What … what happened to you?” Yoochun whispered.
“I saw him on the road, sir. He was stumbling, so I pulled over to see if he was drunk. I told him I’d take him to the hospital or home and he just kept saying ‘Park Yoochun’s house’ and then he passed out and I found your card in his wallet.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Um, not really. He kept apologizing to someone named Gi, but I couldn’t get anything coherent out of him.”
“Thank you so much for helping him. I’m not sure how long I’ll be at the hospital, but I’ll need a ride home.”
The cab driver reached into the ashtray and pulled out a business card. He handed it back to Yoochun.
“You call me anytime,” he said.
Yoochun said thank you again, and he could almost hear the whisper of Jaejoong’s voice saying, ‘Thanks, hyung.’
With a quiet sob, Yoochun buried his face in Jaejoong’s chest and willed the cabbie to drive faster.
Part 10: Bloody Jeans
Part 8: Sexy Jeans
Part 7: Sharp Chords
Part 6: Same Jeans
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)
This chapter is NC-17.
Poster credit goes to crazyaboutchun. Thank you darling! I love it! ♥
Part 9:
This chapter is NC-17
It took Yoochun a very long time to get up. With only a few hours of sleep and his body still aching, he wanted to say fuck it and call in sick. But he couldn’t do that to his students.
Jaejoong sprawled on the bed next to him with his arm was flung over Yoochun’s stomach. Reluctantly, Yoochun slid over and out of bed. A dull ache spread through his lower back as he went to the kitchen and started coffee. Cigarette burning, he moved through his darkened apartment. He trailed fingers over the keys, but not pressing. He did not want to disturb Jaejoong, but Jaejoong had to get to school.
He stubbed out his cigarette and went back to the bedroom. Jaejoong had rolled to his side. His hands and legs jerked like he was dreaming.
Yoochun kneeled on the edge of the bed and leaned down enough to kiss his arm, from elbow to shoulder. Jaejoong shivered when Yoochun kissed his neck, and then he moaned, rolling to his back. Yoochun moved his lips to Jaejoong chest, again kissing the faded bruises.
“Hm, hy-hyung,” Jaejoong whined.
“You have school.”
“I’m not going.”
“You have to.”
“Don’t care.” Jaejoong flipped to his other side, away from Yoochun. “I feel like shit.”
Yoochun did not stop kissing Jaejoong’s skin, trailing his lips down his bare back, over his bony hip.
“Damn it, hyung.” Jaejoong spun to his back again, and Yoochun moved his lips accordingly. Down his thigh, and then back up until he breathed hot air on Jaejoong’s hardening cock.
Yoochun smiled as it twitched.
“I hate you,” Jaejoong said with a pout.
“Sure you do,” Yoochun replied and licked at the head.
Jaejoong moaned.
Yoochun cupped Jaejoong’s thigh, spreading his leg and lifting his head at the same time. With fingers teasing his sack, Yoochun closed his lips around Jaejoong’s shaft, sliding his mouth up. Jaejoong’s hand fell on his head with a whimper. Gripping his balls firmly, Yoochun sucked the soft head of Jaejoong’s cock into his mouth, lips stretched around the width.
God, this kid.
“Fuck, hyung,” Jaejoong gasped as Yoochun took half of his cock into his throat at once. His mouth was not quite as capable as taking all of Jaejoong like his ass was, so Yoochun wrapped his hand around and rubbed the shaft while sucking on the head, dipping to take more.
Jaejoong’s legs spread and he jerked his hips up with a cry, pulling Yoochun’s hair with every trip into Yoochun’s mouth.
Yoochun knew he didn’t have time for much more than this, but god, he wanted … no, he had to feel this kid inside him again. He let Jaejoong’s cock go and rolled away, ignoring the boy’s protest.
“I was so close,” Jaejoong whimpered.
“I know.” Yoochun went to his dresser and grabbed a condom. The bottle of lube was on the floor. He ripped the condom open on his way to the bed, and then had it rolled onto Jaejoong’s erection in a moment.
“Fuck, hyung, I …”
Yoochun kissed him to shut him up. “Get on your damn knees and fuck me.”
Jaejoong smirked. “No.”
“Jaejoong.”
“I’m saying no. So if you sit on my cock that makes it rape. Shame on you, naughty sonsaengnim, raping your student.”
“Jaejoong,” Yoochun said, this time with a whine and a pout. “I want you.”
Jaejoong put his arms around Yoochun’s neck. “I’ll fuck you if you let me go back to sleep and skip school.”
Yoochun let out a huff of frustration. “I can’t make you go to school, Jae.”
“Good answer.” Jaejoong kissed him and then sat up.
Yoochun knew better than this. He should have … should have … He moaned as Jaejoong’s slick fingers slipped inside him. “No-no p-prep. It’s … good. Just do it.”
“Such a slut,” Jaejoong said.
The head of his cock pushed against Yoochun’s entrance, and Yoochun moaned Jaejoong’s name. His plea to be fucked was lost in a cry as Jaejoong thrust forward, stretching him open. Yoochun put his head to the bed and moaned as Jaejoong pushed into him until their skin pressed together.
Mind blank, eyes shut tight enough to leak tears, Yoochun wondered if this was what heaven felt like, reminded himself that he had no chance of going to heaven because Jaejoong was only fifteen and then decided that Jaejoong just sitting there was torturous enough to have it be what hell felt like.
“Move, please, Jaejoong, please.”
Jaejoong shuddered and slipped out a couple inches, before slamming back in, tearing a startled cry from Yoochun. His hand was immediately stroking his cock as Jaejoong thrust into him hard and fast.
“Fuck, hyung, why … just … fuck.”
Yoochun agreed with a groan and a whimper as his orgasm suddenly crashed through him. Mouth open, biting down on the bed, body stilling, and then jerking as everything crashed around him, and his release covered the sheets below him. Jaejoong cursed again, and sped up. His hands tightened on Yoochun’s ass and then he fell forward, as his body twitched through his orgasm.
Jaejoong collapsed and Yoochun landed in his own mess with a grunt. Jaejoong’s breath panted between his shoulder blades.
“Is it too late for me to demand that you skip with me too?”
“Yes, and I can’t do that. I have lessons.”
Jaejoong rolled off him with a moan. The condom made a wet noise as it half slipped from his cock. “Clean me up, sonsaengnim. It’s your fault.”
Yoochun smiled. He propped up on an elbow and kissed Jaejoong’s cheek. “Yes, Leader of the Universe.”
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Lame. Just call me master.”
Yoochun chuckled and kissed him on the lips. “Just lay there and be beautiful.” He sat up and removed the condom, tying it off. He licked up the few stray drops of Jaejoong’s come and then sucked on the head of his cock. Jaejoong laughed and pushed him away. Yoochun stood up. He scraped most of his come off the bed with the towel they used the night before and then cleaned off his hand and body.
“You’re such a fucker,” Jaejoong said, yawning.
“Why?”
“Tell me why you’re not, and then I’ll tell you why you are.” Jaejoong rolled onto his side and flung the blanket over his body.
Yoochun chuckled. He leaned over the bed and kissed Jaejoong’s cheek. “See you later, master.”
Yoochun took a long shower. Afterwards, he did his best to dress quietly so he wouldn’t wake Jaejoong up. The kid definitely needed more sleep. And Yoochun needed more coffee. He moved to the kitchen, and made a quick bite to eat while coffee brewed. He had about fifteen minutes before he absolutely had to leave.
Normally he’d play the piano for those few minutes. He went to the living room, and stopped, staring at Jaejoong’s bag.
Two sides fought within him: look, be nosy, make sure he didn’t have any drugs; or respect his privacy, not go through his things. Yoochun couldn’t tell which was the devil and which was the angel in this situation.
With a sigh, he hefted the bag and sat it on a chair. It was bulky and he found out why when Jaejoong’s school uniform almost burst from it. It was amazing the thing was never wrinkled. He checked the pockets, and then put the uniform on the floor. School books, notebooks, pens calculator. Nothing seemed amiss. Every pocket had something in it. Yoochun nodded in relief, and then remembered.
When he was seventeen, running on the streets with a fear of not cops, but thugs, he always had a spot for his drugs. And more than once, even after he’d been left bleeding and robbed, no one ever seemed to find that.
Yoochun dumped everything from Jaejoong’s and with a sigh, saw the hidden pocket at the bottom.
He unzipped it, and then shut his eyes as a baggie of white powder was revealed. After tossing it on the floor, he turned the back bag inside out, looking for more, but that was the only one. Another pocket, not as hidden, held a few hundred won. Yoochun shoved everything back in the bag, zipped it up and put it on the floor.
Baggie in hand, he was half way to his room to demand an explanation when the image of Jaejoong sleeping filled his mind. He couldn’t wake him up. Not now. He’d talk to him after he returned from class. He went to the bathroom and flushed the cocaine, baggie and all.
He didn’t trust himself to steal a kiss from Jaejoong and not shake him until Jaejoong understood how dangerous his life was, so he didn’t go back to the bedroom. He picked up his briefcase and laptop case and went to school.
It was hard to concentrate on his lessons and he felt so bad because they had a recital to prepare for.
A little after noon, he received a text message. He knew it’d be Jaejoong, so he ignored it until he was on his way home.
Thanks for going through my shit, bitch. I hate you.
Yoochun sighed. He wanted to text Jaejoong back, but what did he say? It’s for your own good. … or how about You’ll thank me when you’re older.? None of those worked on an emotionally charged teenager. It only pissed them off more, made them rebel harder.
Finally he settled on: You can come over whenever you want. But don’t bring drugs into my house again.
He wasn’t surprised when Jaejoong was gone when he got home. On his kitchen table, written in ketchup of all things were three words I trusted you.
Every text Yoochun sent him came back as undeliverable. Jaejoong had blocked him.
And for the second weekend in a row, Yoochun drank himself into a stupor and played the piano.
♪-♪-♪-♪
Monday morning, Jaejoong was not in class. Yoochun tried to concentrate on his lessons. The girls were working so hard on their music pieces. He felt like an utter asshole for neglecting them over a cute piece of troubled emotions.
After class, Jaelin hung back and played with the lower keys on the piano.
“Did you need something, Jaelin?”
She bit her lip. “Do you know where Jaejoong is, oppa?”
Yoochun shook his head. “No. I don’t.”
“He … he won’t answer his phone.”
“You got his number?” Yoochun said with a smile.
Jaelin blushed. “Yeah, but … it’s … we’re just friends, oppa. Jaejoong is … we’re just friends.”
Yoochun wondered when Jaejoong had told her his little secret. The other girls were still devising ways of confessing to Jaejoong.
“I’m worried about him,” Jaelin said.
“Why? He’s probably just sick.”
“He … I’m … worried, oppa, I really like him, and if I tell you, you have to promise that you won’t tell him it was me.”
“I promise,” Yoochun said, but he had a feeling nothing she said would be anything new.
“He … asked me if I had ever done drugs, and I told him no, and then he said that was good and that I never should ever do drugs and I told him I wouldn’t but when I said you shouldn’t do drugs either, he got really quiet and then after a long time said that he wasn’t, but I think he was lying and …”
“Jaelin, sh, it’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“You don’t think he’s doing drugs, do you, oppa?”
Yoochun refused to break this young girl’s heart about one of her friends. He shook his head. “No, Jaelin. I don’t. He’s too smart for that. Maybe someone in his family is.”
She looked down and then nodded.
“Has he said anything else to you? About troubles in his life?”
“No, oppa. We mainly talk about music.”
“Okay. Go on home. I’ll call Jaejoong’s parents and see if he stayed home today.”
Jaelin nodded and left the room. Yoochun didn’t call Jaejoong’s parents, because he doubted they’d answer, and he doubted they’d care, but he also did not want to get Jaejoong in trouble. This was more than just a student playing hooky.
He went home utterly worried and depressed. He didn’t eat or drink or play. All he did was pace his living room. Back and forth, chewing on his nails and cursing himself. It really was his fault. He sat hard on the couch, head in his hands.
He shouldn’t have gone through Jaejoong’s things. It would have been better to ask the kid not to bring drugs into his house. Jaejoong liked him. Jaejoong would have respected his request.
It was almost two a.m. when Yoochun was startled out of sleep by a knock on his door. He jumped up, rushing, flinging it open. But it wasn’t Jaejoong on the other side.
The older looking man stumbled through an apology and bowed. “A-are you Park Yoochun?” he asked and held out a piece of paper.
It was Yoochun’s business card. He nodded, reaching for it. There was a deep red smudge on the side that Yoochun hoped wasn’t blood.
“I’m a cab driver, sir, and there’s a young man in my cab and he’s passed out and in rough shape. I … he said to take him here and then … yeah. I can’t …”
Yoochun felt his stomach drop to his feet, and his head went light. He grabbed his keys and his phone and told the driver to lead the way to his cab. His steps were heavy, terrified at what he’d find, and it was so much worse than he’d imagined.
Jaejoong’s face was covered in dried blood, his right eye was swollen shut. All he wore was a ripped tank top and a pair of light blue jeans, no shoes even. There was blood on his arms and his legs.
Yoochun fell to his knees next to the car. He tapped Jaejoong’s cheeks, trying to get him to wake up, saying his name softly. Panicked, he lifted Jaejoong’s eyelid, saw the utterly blown pupils and almost threw up.
“Fuck. Can you take us to the nearest hospital?”
“Yes.”
Yoochun lifted Jaejoong enough and sat down. “Speed. If you get pulled over, I’ll pay your ticket.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yoochun continued to try to wake Jaejoong up. His eyes roved over his body and saw cuts on his stomach and from the blood on his pants, Yoochun knew there were more on his legs.
“What … what happened to you?” Yoochun whispered.
“I saw him on the road, sir. He was stumbling, so I pulled over to see if he was drunk. I told him I’d take him to the hospital or home and he just kept saying ‘Park Yoochun’s house’ and then he passed out and I found your card in his wallet.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Um, not really. He kept apologizing to someone named Gi, but I couldn’t get anything coherent out of him.”
“Thank you so much for helping him. I’m not sure how long I’ll be at the hospital, but I’ll need a ride home.”
The cab driver reached into the ashtray and pulled out a business card. He handed it back to Yoochun.
“You call me anytime,” he said.
Yoochun said thank you again, and he could almost hear the whisper of Jaejoong’s voice saying, ‘Thanks, hyung.’
With a quiet sob, Yoochun buried his face in Jaejoong’s chest and willed the cabbie to drive faster.
Part 10: Bloody Jeans
Part 8: Sexy Jeans
Part 7: Sharp Chords
Part 6: Same Jeans
Part 5: Broken Chords
Part 4: Tattered Jeans
Part 3: Shaken Chords
Part 2: Holey Jeans
Part 1: Common Chords
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