Delicate 1/?
Title: Delicate 1/?
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't my pets or my toys or my slaves and that is so unfortunate.
Summary: Yoochun's eccentric uncle passes away and leaves Yoochun his pet and money to take care of it. But the pet isn't anything Yoochun is expecting, and suddenly he has to figure out how to help someone else while his own life is a fucking mess.
Warning: implied abuse, slavery, and pedophilia. Both Yoochun and Junsu are 27 when this fic starts
A/N: I have no idea how long this fic will be or when I will update it. It's just one of those fics that shoulda been a one shot but isn't going to be.
A/N2: Fic is for willowwing, baileymoyes and xtooline because they are awesome and I love them!
Poster credit goes to back_to_five!! It's gorgeous! <3
Part 1:
Warning: implied abuse, slavery, and pedophilia. Both Yoochun and Junsu are 27 when this fic starts
Early morning sunlight penetrated the blanket Yoochun pinned over the windows in his studio, dimming the space, but making it difficult to sleep. He was used to it. Mostly. But it was the random noises that woke him up more often than not. A car alarm. A siren. His neighbors fucking against the wall. His other neighbor beating the shit out of his girlfriend.
Today it was his cell phone. Chirping some annoyingly bright happy ringtone that he desperately needed to change.
Why hadn’t he put the damn thing on silent?
With his eyes unwilling to open, he reached to the bedside table. He knocked the phone to the floor, and it happily started ringing again.
Yoochun sacrificed a pillow to the floor to cover the phone up. It dimmed the noise enough that he was able to sleep well into the afternoon. The next time he woke up it was to his neighbor calling his girlfriend an ungrateful, lazy cunt.
He forgot about the early morning phone calls until he had showered, had his first cigarette and was sucking down a weak cup of coffee.
There were seven missed calls and five texts from his mother.
Your uncle left you some things in his will.
His lawyer is trying to get ahold of you.
Why aren’t you answering your phone at a time like this?
I know you haven’t been around family a lot, but you need to be when there is a death.
Call the lawyer back when you wake up, it is important.
Yoochun erased them without replying to them. His mother hadn’t spoken to him in more than a year, and only called last week to tell him that his uncle, her brother, had a heart attack. Yoochun didn’t care. His entire family had told him to fuck off more or less when he came out.
The lawyer had called only once, leaving him a message with his name and a phone number to reach him at before six.
It was a few minutes to, so Yoochun called him back. The voice on the other end of the line was brisk, no-nonsense, and when Yoochun introduced himself, he told Yoochun to go to his uncle’s estate to pick up his pet.
“Wait, pet?”
“Yes, his pet. In his will it says that you are the only one in the family that will be able to take care of him properly.”
Yoochun looked around his tiny studio apartment. He had a mattress, a couch, and a small bookshelf.
“I don’t have space for a pet, are you kidding me?”
“There isn’t anyone else,” the lawyer stressed. “It will be put down if you don’t.”
Yoochun shut his eyes. He could barely afford to feed himself.
“There is a small monthly stipend that will be transferred to your bank account from your uncle’s main trust for its care.”
Yoochun wavered. Money. He definitely needed money. He could give the pet up for adoption later. Keep the money. “How much?”
“Seven hundred thousand won.”
Yoochun felt like he had a heart attack and air rushed through his brain. Definitely worth it, considering Yoochun was lucky to make that much in two weeks.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”
“Eight am. This is the last thing I have to worry about,” the lawyer said and hung up.
Yoochun sighed and wondered what he would need to buy to keep a dog. Or was it a cat? Hell, he hadn’t even asked. It could be a tarantula or a snake for all he knew. What kind of a pet needed that much money?
Yoochun was going to call the lawyer back and ask, but it didn’t actually matter. He was going to get rid of the thing as soon as he could.
---
Yoochun was about to fall asleep when the cab driver stopped in front of his uncle’s estate. He hadn’t been there since he was twelve. His uncle was a recluse and even more ostracized than Yoochun was. But his uncle was rich. He didn’t need anyone else.
A black car sat in the driveway, the engine running. A man climbed out as soon as Yoochun exited the cab.
“Wait for me,” Yoochun requested.
The cab driver nodded.
“Park Yoochun-shi?” the man said.
Yoochun nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Good. I was thinking you were going to back out.”
“Yeah, well. Money.”
The man smirked. “I knew that would get you here.” He pulled out a bunch of papers. “These are the details of your uncle’s estate. You don’t need to worry about any of it except for the pages I have marked. I need you to sign them, read the relevant sections if you feel you need to, and then give me your banking information so I can transfer the first payments into your account.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
Fuck. Yoochun could pay his phone bill early. He quickly moved to the car and used the top of it to sign the papers. Four signatures and that was it. He did learn while skimming the pages that the pet’s name was Xiah. But nothing about what kind of animal it was.
The lawyer shut everything into his briefcase and said, “The doors are unlocked. You’ll find Xiah in the master bathroom. It’s where he feels most comfortable.”
“Um, okay, what ... what kind of pet is he?”
The lawyer smirked. “You’ll find out. He’s no longer my concern.” He climbed into his car and drove away. Yoochun watched, stunned, and realized the man hadn’t even introduced himself.
With a sigh, Yoochun turned to the house. The sloping stairway led to an elaborate wire and glass door with a claw handle. He turned it and entered the cool house. The ceiling sloped upwards with windows throwing light on a grand staircase. He wondered where the master bedroom was.
“Hello?”
His voice echoed through the empty house.
“Xiah?” he tried to call.
Nothing.
He headed up the stairs, skipping the second floor that looks like normal bedrooms. On the top floor, there was a set of French doors. He went through them and entered an elaborate sitting room. Windows bathed everything in light. To the left was a sleeping room with a four-post bed complete with a canopy, raised to separate it from the rest. To the right were two doors, and an opening. Yoochun could see the swirls of marble and went that way.
He took a step into the room and stopped in shock. Sitting on the floor, back pressed against the cool marble was a person. He noted first the pink hair, white shirt, plaid pants. And then the bare feet. The strong arms. Veins on his skin. Young, probably barely twenty. And then the lace cloth over his eyes.
“Um, hi,” Yoochun said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. I’m looking for Xiah.”
The head turned and a tongue lapped over pink lips. And then he smiled and shifted.
“Do you know where Xiah is?”
He moved to his knees, head bowed, and put his hands behind his back.
Yoochun staggered back, hand against the cool marble wall. Breath short. This ... this ...
“You’re Xiah?”
The man smiled again and bowed a little lower.
“Fucking hell. What the fuck?” He fumbled for his phone and could barely see enough to find the number of the lawyer.
The lawyer did not answer.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Yoochun demanded as a message. “Xiah is a person. Not a fucking pet. Are you fucking kidding?” He hung up with an aggravated noise and glanced down at the kneeling man.
He had his lower lip between his teeth, and he was shaking. Just a little.
His phone beeped with a text message. From the lawyer.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Yoochun replied: FUCK YOU! Xiah is a person!
Xiah is a pet. And your uncle was a sick fuck, not me. You don’t want him, leave him there, but he will be turned out of that house tomorrow, and left on his own.
Then so be it. I am not ... this is ridiculous. Yoochun spun around and walked back through the massive bedroom.
And there goes the extra money every month.
“Fuck,” Yoochun muttered, and then screamed it. He almost threw his phone across the room, but stopped himself. He could not afford to buy a new one. He looked back toward the bedroom.
What would happen to him if he just left? He survived without that extra money. He still could.
But Xiah ...
Yoochun walked unsteadily to the bathroom. Xiah was on the floor, curled up in a ball, shivering but not crying.
Yoochun stared at him and then very slowly sat next to him. “Hey.”
Xiah scrambled up to his knees again and bowed. The lace around his eyes was wet. So he had been crying.
Yoochun sighed. “Look, uh, Xiah. I have ... this is weird. I don’t know what ... My uncle is a sick fuck. I just ... I guess you’re coming with me.”
Xiah bit his lip and his breath hitched.
“Can you talk?”
Slowly, Xiah nodded.
“What’s your name? Your real name?” Yoochun amended quickly.
His face twisted like he was in pain. Or fighting with himself. Yoochun waited.
“J-Junsu,” he finally whispered.
Yoochun nodded. “Okay. Junsu. That is much better than some pet name. Do you know how old you are?”
Junsu shook his head.
“Do you know when you were born?”
“Eighty six. December.”
Yoochun stared at him for a long time, trying to process that they were the same age, though Yoochun was a few months older. “And ... uh, how long have you ... lived ... with my uncle?”
Junsu did not answer for a few long moments. He froze, face hardening. “I was ten.”
“Wow. My uncle is a sick fuck.”
Yoochun caught Junsu’s lips twitching. “You can take that blindfold off, you know.”
Junsu did not move and then shook his head. “I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Only you can allow me to look at things.”
“What?”
“You have to take it off ... master.”
“Don’t fucking call me that. I am not your master. My name is Yoochun. And take it off, right now.”
Junsu bit his lip again.
“I am not your fucking master,” Yoochun said again. “I was told you were a pet, an animal, something I had to take care of. Not that you were a person. I am not your master. I am not in control of you. Take it off.”
Junsu’s hands were shaking as he lifted his arm and very slowly pulled the soft cloth off. It hung around his neck, and he kept his eyes closed for a few deep breaths and then opened them, looking at Yoochun.
Yoochun almost expected him to have red eyes, or empty eye sockets, or something gross and mutilated to warrant the blindfold. But Junsu had very pretty eyes, round, deep brown, long lashes.
“Much better. Look, Junsu, I ... I don’t ... if you were a dog or a cat, I’d be dropping you off at the pound right now, but if you’ve been here since you were ten ... did you go to school at all?”
“B-before?” Junsu whispered, head lowered. “I think.”
“You think?”
“I ...” Junsu bit his lip. “My family was poor. I can’t remember.”
Yoochun sighed and looked around the opulent bathroom. “I know what that is like. This bathroom is about the size of my apartment. You won’t be living in luxury anymore, but it’s better than living in the street.”
Junsu smiled awkwardly.
With one more sigh, Yoochun stood up. “Well, let’s go. Do you have any clothes or things you need to take with you?”
Junsu bit his lips and shook his head. “I have nothing and only belong to my master.”
Yoochun blinked at him for a moment. “Come on then. This cab fare is going to be huge.”
Yoochun turned around and headed out of the bathroom. He took a few steps and turned to make sure that Junsu was following. He stopped short, seeing Junsu on his hands and knees. “Hell, no. Get on your feet and walk. I am not your master.”
Junsu looked up at him and frowned. “Walk?”
“Yes, walk, on two feet. Don’t fucking crawl.”
Junsu chewed on his lower lip, but eventually, he reached for the closest thing (the wall) and stood up, steadying himself.
Yoochun spun back around and walked through the house, hearing Junsu behind him. He stalked out the front door and was glad the cab driver hadn’t left. Halfway down the driveway he looked behind him again. Junsu was still near the door, wincing with every step.
Right, he didn’t have shoes. And the ground was rough on soft feet like Junsu’s.
Yoochun went back to him and swallowed an apology. “Here,” he said, giving Junsu his back. “Put your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you.”
A few seconds later, Junsu did, arms shaking. Yoochun reached behind him and hefted him up into a piggyback. He had to wait and shift Junsu’s weight before taking a tentative step to make sure he could get there. Junsu wasn’t exactly heavy, but Yoochun was glad he didn’t have to cart him too far.
“Thank you,” Junsu whispered, lips against Yoochun’s ear.
Yoochun fought off a shiver.
He set Junsu down and opened the back door. The cab driver was looking at him funny. Yoochun didn’t blame him. He had told the cab driver he had to pick up a pet.
“Don’t ask,” Yoochun said as he climbed in beside Junsu. “Take me back to where you picked me up.”
The driver stared at him for a moment longer and then faced front and put the car into drive. Junsu stayed plastered next to him, eyes wide as he glanced around the city. At one point, the cab driver had to slam on his breaks, and Junsu yelped and practically buried his face in Yoochun’s shoulder. Yoochun rolled his eyes, but lifted his arm and settled it over the other’s back. Junsu stayed like that, face pressed against his chest, fingers digging into his stomach, for the rest of the drive.
Yoochun shifted to get out his wallet and he paid the driver an appropriate amount and said thank you. The driver was still looking at him funny, so Yoochun hurried up, and once again had Junsu curled over his back, his thighs in Yoochun’s hand. He only carried him as far as the landing. There was no way he could carry Junsu up the stairs.
“Come on,” Yoochun said, putting him down. He started walking up, and Junsu clung to his arm. Yoochun sighed and held out his hand and Junsu gripped it thankfully. “This is where I live, on the sixth floor. I’ll get a key made for you and everything, so you can come and go as you want.”
“Go? Like ... leave? Outside?”
“Um, yeah.” Yoochun glanced at him. Junsu was biting his lip. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, but you’re going to need to eventually. You can’t stay cooped up in my studio for the rest of your life.”
Yoochun let go of his hand, and Junsu moved close to him to hold onto his shirt, practically pressed to his back. Yoochun fumbled with his key, but opened the lock, and led Junsu inside. It was dim, the morning light obscured by the blankets. It wasn’t much, but it was home. For now. Until he could move into a larger place. There were only two windows on the wall across from the door. The kitchen was to the right, with only a sink, a small fridge, and a cooktop. His twin bed was in the corner on the left, with his small dresser next to it. His two-seater couch was almost blocking the door. The bathroom was through a small door next to the kitchen.
Yoochun went to his dresser and pulled out a cigarette from the pack. He lit it and sucked down a much needed drag. He turned and leaned against the dresser.
Junsu was still by the door, hands in fists at his sides, looking around the small space.
“It’s luxurious, isn’t it?”
Junsu sort of smiled. “S-sorry. I ... I don’t ...”
Yoochun shook his head. “I’m incredibly poor, Junsu. And honestly, the only reason why I agreed to take care of my uncle’s pet is because his estates is giving me a shit ton of money every month to do so.”
Junsu looked down and bit his lip.
Yoochun finished his cigarette in silence. Well, relative silence. The neighbor was calling his girlfriend a lazy cunt and something shattered against the wall.
“So here is what goes on in my life. I work a night shift at a bar, I usually start at nine. I sleep during the day, and I should have already been asleep for hours. So I’m going to go to sleep. You can get something to eat if you want, go sit on the couch. I don’t even know. Do whatever the hell you want. We’ll figure more shit out when I can process the fucking fact that my uncle had a fucking human being as a fucking sex slave.”
Junsu rubbed his arms, still staring at the floor.
Yoochun stubbed out his cigarette, and uncaring of the audience, because fucking hell, how the fuck was he supposed to live with someone, he stripped down to his boxers, only leaving them on because of Junsu. He climbed into his bed, kept his back turned and tried to relax. But he was overtly aware of Junsu watching him and then moving. He heard movement on his couch.
It took a very long time for Yoochun to fall asleep.
He woke up, not to the annoying beeping of his alarm, but to a soft voice and a hand shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, saw someone leaning over him, and shot up with a shout, hooking his arm around and catching the intruder in the jaw with his fist. The guy went down and Yoochun gasped, remembered Junsu and swore, clambering out of bed quickly.
“Fuck, sorry, Junsu,” Yoochun said, kneeling next to him.
Junsu was curled in a ball, shaking.
“Fuck, hey, come here. I’m sorry.” Yoochun managed to uncurl him and look at his face. Nothing was bleeding but his cheek was swollen with a red spot on his jaw. He was crying.
“I’m sorry,” Yoochun said again, touching the other cheek softly. “You startled me. I forgot for a moment.”
Junsu bit his lip. “You ... you didn’t set your alarm.”
Yoochun’s head shot up and he saw that it was after seven already. “Fucking hell.” He looked down at Junsu. “Again, I’m sorry. Thank you. I need to get in the shower.”
Junsu smiled. Or tried to. He winced.
“There’s some ice in the freezer. Put some on your cheek so it doesn’t swell too much.”
Junsu nodded.
Yoochun smiled at him and then stood up. He held out a hand and pulled Junsu to his feet. Junsu swayed into him, eyes shutting.
“You okay?”
Junsu nodded.
“Good. Thanks again, for waking me up.”
Yoochun showered and dressed for work faster than he ever had before. He remembered just soon enough to shout a goodbye to Junsu and then left, hoping he didn’t miss the last train to his work.
Part 2: Laughter
.
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't my pets or my toys or my slaves and that is so unfortunate.
Summary: Yoochun's eccentric uncle passes away and leaves Yoochun his pet and money to take care of it. But the pet isn't anything Yoochun is expecting, and suddenly he has to figure out how to help someone else while his own life is a fucking mess.
Warning: implied abuse, slavery, and pedophilia. Both Yoochun and Junsu are 27 when this fic starts
A/N: I have no idea how long this fic will be or when I will update it. It's just one of those fics that shoulda been a one shot but isn't going to be.
A/N2: Fic is for willowwing, baileymoyes and xtooline because they are awesome and I love them!
Poster credit goes to back_to_five!! It's gorgeous! <3
Part 1:
Warning: implied abuse, slavery, and pedophilia. Both Yoochun and Junsu are 27 when this fic starts
Early morning sunlight penetrated the blanket Yoochun pinned over the windows in his studio, dimming the space, but making it difficult to sleep. He was used to it. Mostly. But it was the random noises that woke him up more often than not. A car alarm. A siren. His neighbors fucking against the wall. His other neighbor beating the shit out of his girlfriend.
Today it was his cell phone. Chirping some annoyingly bright happy ringtone that he desperately needed to change.
Why hadn’t he put the damn thing on silent?
With his eyes unwilling to open, he reached to the bedside table. He knocked the phone to the floor, and it happily started ringing again.
Yoochun sacrificed a pillow to the floor to cover the phone up. It dimmed the noise enough that he was able to sleep well into the afternoon. The next time he woke up it was to his neighbor calling his girlfriend an ungrateful, lazy cunt.
He forgot about the early morning phone calls until he had showered, had his first cigarette and was sucking down a weak cup of coffee.
There were seven missed calls and five texts from his mother.
Your uncle left you some things in his will.
His lawyer is trying to get ahold of you.
Why aren’t you answering your phone at a time like this?
I know you haven’t been around family a lot, but you need to be when there is a death.
Call the lawyer back when you wake up, it is important.
Yoochun erased them without replying to them. His mother hadn’t spoken to him in more than a year, and only called last week to tell him that his uncle, her brother, had a heart attack. Yoochun didn’t care. His entire family had told him to fuck off more or less when he came out.
The lawyer had called only once, leaving him a message with his name and a phone number to reach him at before six.
It was a few minutes to, so Yoochun called him back. The voice on the other end of the line was brisk, no-nonsense, and when Yoochun introduced himself, he told Yoochun to go to his uncle’s estate to pick up his pet.
“Wait, pet?”
“Yes, his pet. In his will it says that you are the only one in the family that will be able to take care of him properly.”
Yoochun looked around his tiny studio apartment. He had a mattress, a couch, and a small bookshelf.
“I don’t have space for a pet, are you kidding me?”
“There isn’t anyone else,” the lawyer stressed. “It will be put down if you don’t.”
Yoochun shut his eyes. He could barely afford to feed himself.
“There is a small monthly stipend that will be transferred to your bank account from your uncle’s main trust for its care.”
Yoochun wavered. Money. He definitely needed money. He could give the pet up for adoption later. Keep the money. “How much?”
“Seven hundred thousand won.”
Yoochun felt like he had a heart attack and air rushed through his brain. Definitely worth it, considering Yoochun was lucky to make that much in two weeks.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”
“Eight am. This is the last thing I have to worry about,” the lawyer said and hung up.
Yoochun sighed and wondered what he would need to buy to keep a dog. Or was it a cat? Hell, he hadn’t even asked. It could be a tarantula or a snake for all he knew. What kind of a pet needed that much money?
Yoochun was going to call the lawyer back and ask, but it didn’t actually matter. He was going to get rid of the thing as soon as he could.
---
Yoochun was about to fall asleep when the cab driver stopped in front of his uncle’s estate. He hadn’t been there since he was twelve. His uncle was a recluse and even more ostracized than Yoochun was. But his uncle was rich. He didn’t need anyone else.
A black car sat in the driveway, the engine running. A man climbed out as soon as Yoochun exited the cab.
“Wait for me,” Yoochun requested.
The cab driver nodded.
“Park Yoochun-shi?” the man said.
Yoochun nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Good. I was thinking you were going to back out.”
“Yeah, well. Money.”
The man smirked. “I knew that would get you here.” He pulled out a bunch of papers. “These are the details of your uncle’s estate. You don’t need to worry about any of it except for the pages I have marked. I need you to sign them, read the relevant sections if you feel you need to, and then give me your banking information so I can transfer the first payments into your account.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
Fuck. Yoochun could pay his phone bill early. He quickly moved to the car and used the top of it to sign the papers. Four signatures and that was it. He did learn while skimming the pages that the pet’s name was Xiah. But nothing about what kind of animal it was.
The lawyer shut everything into his briefcase and said, “The doors are unlocked. You’ll find Xiah in the master bathroom. It’s where he feels most comfortable.”
“Um, okay, what ... what kind of pet is he?”
The lawyer smirked. “You’ll find out. He’s no longer my concern.” He climbed into his car and drove away. Yoochun watched, stunned, and realized the man hadn’t even introduced himself.
With a sigh, Yoochun turned to the house. The sloping stairway led to an elaborate wire and glass door with a claw handle. He turned it and entered the cool house. The ceiling sloped upwards with windows throwing light on a grand staircase. He wondered where the master bedroom was.
“Hello?”
His voice echoed through the empty house.
“Xiah?” he tried to call.
Nothing.
He headed up the stairs, skipping the second floor that looks like normal bedrooms. On the top floor, there was a set of French doors. He went through them and entered an elaborate sitting room. Windows bathed everything in light. To the left was a sleeping room with a four-post bed complete with a canopy, raised to separate it from the rest. To the right were two doors, and an opening. Yoochun could see the swirls of marble and went that way.
He took a step into the room and stopped in shock. Sitting on the floor, back pressed against the cool marble was a person. He noted first the pink hair, white shirt, plaid pants. And then the bare feet. The strong arms. Veins on his skin. Young, probably barely twenty. And then the lace cloth over his eyes.
“Um, hi,” Yoochun said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. I’m looking for Xiah.”
The head turned and a tongue lapped over pink lips. And then he smiled and shifted.
“Do you know where Xiah is?”
He moved to his knees, head bowed, and put his hands behind his back.
Yoochun staggered back, hand against the cool marble wall. Breath short. This ... this ...
“You’re Xiah?”
The man smiled again and bowed a little lower.
“Fucking hell. What the fuck?” He fumbled for his phone and could barely see enough to find the number of the lawyer.
The lawyer did not answer.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Yoochun demanded as a message. “Xiah is a person. Not a fucking pet. Are you fucking kidding?” He hung up with an aggravated noise and glanced down at the kneeling man.
He had his lower lip between his teeth, and he was shaking. Just a little.
His phone beeped with a text message. From the lawyer.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Yoochun replied: FUCK YOU! Xiah is a person!
Xiah is a pet. And your uncle was a sick fuck, not me. You don’t want him, leave him there, but he will be turned out of that house tomorrow, and left on his own.
Then so be it. I am not ... this is ridiculous. Yoochun spun around and walked back through the massive bedroom.
And there goes the extra money every month.
“Fuck,” Yoochun muttered, and then screamed it. He almost threw his phone across the room, but stopped himself. He could not afford to buy a new one. He looked back toward the bedroom.
What would happen to him if he just left? He survived without that extra money. He still could.
But Xiah ...
Yoochun walked unsteadily to the bathroom. Xiah was on the floor, curled up in a ball, shivering but not crying.
Yoochun stared at him and then very slowly sat next to him. “Hey.”
Xiah scrambled up to his knees again and bowed. The lace around his eyes was wet. So he had been crying.
Yoochun sighed. “Look, uh, Xiah. I have ... this is weird. I don’t know what ... My uncle is a sick fuck. I just ... I guess you’re coming with me.”
Xiah bit his lip and his breath hitched.
“Can you talk?”
Slowly, Xiah nodded.
“What’s your name? Your real name?” Yoochun amended quickly.
His face twisted like he was in pain. Or fighting with himself. Yoochun waited.
“J-Junsu,” he finally whispered.
Yoochun nodded. “Okay. Junsu. That is much better than some pet name. Do you know how old you are?”
Junsu shook his head.
“Do you know when you were born?”
“Eighty six. December.”
Yoochun stared at him for a long time, trying to process that they were the same age, though Yoochun was a few months older. “And ... uh, how long have you ... lived ... with my uncle?”
Junsu did not answer for a few long moments. He froze, face hardening. “I was ten.”
“Wow. My uncle is a sick fuck.”
Yoochun caught Junsu’s lips twitching. “You can take that blindfold off, you know.”
Junsu did not move and then shook his head. “I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Only you can allow me to look at things.”
“What?”
“You have to take it off ... master.”
“Don’t fucking call me that. I am not your master. My name is Yoochun. And take it off, right now.”
Junsu bit his lip again.
“I am not your fucking master,” Yoochun said again. “I was told you were a pet, an animal, something I had to take care of. Not that you were a person. I am not your master. I am not in control of you. Take it off.”
Junsu’s hands were shaking as he lifted his arm and very slowly pulled the soft cloth off. It hung around his neck, and he kept his eyes closed for a few deep breaths and then opened them, looking at Yoochun.
Yoochun almost expected him to have red eyes, or empty eye sockets, or something gross and mutilated to warrant the blindfold. But Junsu had very pretty eyes, round, deep brown, long lashes.
“Much better. Look, Junsu, I ... I don’t ... if you were a dog or a cat, I’d be dropping you off at the pound right now, but if you’ve been here since you were ten ... did you go to school at all?”
“B-before?” Junsu whispered, head lowered. “I think.”
“You think?”
“I ...” Junsu bit his lip. “My family was poor. I can’t remember.”
Yoochun sighed and looked around the opulent bathroom. “I know what that is like. This bathroom is about the size of my apartment. You won’t be living in luxury anymore, but it’s better than living in the street.”
Junsu smiled awkwardly.
With one more sigh, Yoochun stood up. “Well, let’s go. Do you have any clothes or things you need to take with you?”
Junsu bit his lips and shook his head. “I have nothing and only belong to my master.”
Yoochun blinked at him for a moment. “Come on then. This cab fare is going to be huge.”
Yoochun turned around and headed out of the bathroom. He took a few steps and turned to make sure that Junsu was following. He stopped short, seeing Junsu on his hands and knees. “Hell, no. Get on your feet and walk. I am not your master.”
Junsu looked up at him and frowned. “Walk?”
“Yes, walk, on two feet. Don’t fucking crawl.”
Junsu chewed on his lower lip, but eventually, he reached for the closest thing (the wall) and stood up, steadying himself.
Yoochun spun back around and walked through the house, hearing Junsu behind him. He stalked out the front door and was glad the cab driver hadn’t left. Halfway down the driveway he looked behind him again. Junsu was still near the door, wincing with every step.
Right, he didn’t have shoes. And the ground was rough on soft feet like Junsu’s.
Yoochun went back to him and swallowed an apology. “Here,” he said, giving Junsu his back. “Put your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you.”
A few seconds later, Junsu did, arms shaking. Yoochun reached behind him and hefted him up into a piggyback. He had to wait and shift Junsu’s weight before taking a tentative step to make sure he could get there. Junsu wasn’t exactly heavy, but Yoochun was glad he didn’t have to cart him too far.
“Thank you,” Junsu whispered, lips against Yoochun’s ear.
Yoochun fought off a shiver.
He set Junsu down and opened the back door. The cab driver was looking at him funny. Yoochun didn’t blame him. He had told the cab driver he had to pick up a pet.
“Don’t ask,” Yoochun said as he climbed in beside Junsu. “Take me back to where you picked me up.”
The driver stared at him for a moment longer and then faced front and put the car into drive. Junsu stayed plastered next to him, eyes wide as he glanced around the city. At one point, the cab driver had to slam on his breaks, and Junsu yelped and practically buried his face in Yoochun’s shoulder. Yoochun rolled his eyes, but lifted his arm and settled it over the other’s back. Junsu stayed like that, face pressed against his chest, fingers digging into his stomach, for the rest of the drive.
Yoochun shifted to get out his wallet and he paid the driver an appropriate amount and said thank you. The driver was still looking at him funny, so Yoochun hurried up, and once again had Junsu curled over his back, his thighs in Yoochun’s hand. He only carried him as far as the landing. There was no way he could carry Junsu up the stairs.
“Come on,” Yoochun said, putting him down. He started walking up, and Junsu clung to his arm. Yoochun sighed and held out his hand and Junsu gripped it thankfully. “This is where I live, on the sixth floor. I’ll get a key made for you and everything, so you can come and go as you want.”
“Go? Like ... leave? Outside?”
“Um, yeah.” Yoochun glanced at him. Junsu was biting his lip. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, but you’re going to need to eventually. You can’t stay cooped up in my studio for the rest of your life.”
Yoochun let go of his hand, and Junsu moved close to him to hold onto his shirt, practically pressed to his back. Yoochun fumbled with his key, but opened the lock, and led Junsu inside. It was dim, the morning light obscured by the blankets. It wasn’t much, but it was home. For now. Until he could move into a larger place. There were only two windows on the wall across from the door. The kitchen was to the right, with only a sink, a small fridge, and a cooktop. His twin bed was in the corner on the left, with his small dresser next to it. His two-seater couch was almost blocking the door. The bathroom was through a small door next to the kitchen.
Yoochun went to his dresser and pulled out a cigarette from the pack. He lit it and sucked down a much needed drag. He turned and leaned against the dresser.
Junsu was still by the door, hands in fists at his sides, looking around the small space.
“It’s luxurious, isn’t it?”
Junsu sort of smiled. “S-sorry. I ... I don’t ...”
Yoochun shook his head. “I’m incredibly poor, Junsu. And honestly, the only reason why I agreed to take care of my uncle’s pet is because his estates is giving me a shit ton of money every month to do so.”
Junsu looked down and bit his lip.
Yoochun finished his cigarette in silence. Well, relative silence. The neighbor was calling his girlfriend a lazy cunt and something shattered against the wall.
“So here is what goes on in my life. I work a night shift at a bar, I usually start at nine. I sleep during the day, and I should have already been asleep for hours. So I’m going to go to sleep. You can get something to eat if you want, go sit on the couch. I don’t even know. Do whatever the hell you want. We’ll figure more shit out when I can process the fucking fact that my uncle had a fucking human being as a fucking sex slave.”
Junsu rubbed his arms, still staring at the floor.
Yoochun stubbed out his cigarette, and uncaring of the audience, because fucking hell, how the fuck was he supposed to live with someone, he stripped down to his boxers, only leaving them on because of Junsu. He climbed into his bed, kept his back turned and tried to relax. But he was overtly aware of Junsu watching him and then moving. He heard movement on his couch.
It took a very long time for Yoochun to fall asleep.
He woke up, not to the annoying beeping of his alarm, but to a soft voice and a hand shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, saw someone leaning over him, and shot up with a shout, hooking his arm around and catching the intruder in the jaw with his fist. The guy went down and Yoochun gasped, remembered Junsu and swore, clambering out of bed quickly.
“Fuck, sorry, Junsu,” Yoochun said, kneeling next to him.
Junsu was curled in a ball, shaking.
“Fuck, hey, come here. I’m sorry.” Yoochun managed to uncurl him and look at his face. Nothing was bleeding but his cheek was swollen with a red spot on his jaw. He was crying.
“I’m sorry,” Yoochun said again, touching the other cheek softly. “You startled me. I forgot for a moment.”
Junsu bit his lip. “You ... you didn’t set your alarm.”
Yoochun’s head shot up and he saw that it was after seven already. “Fucking hell.” He looked down at Junsu. “Again, I’m sorry. Thank you. I need to get in the shower.”
Junsu smiled. Or tried to. He winced.
“There’s some ice in the freezer. Put some on your cheek so it doesn’t swell too much.”
Junsu nodded.
Yoochun smiled at him and then stood up. He held out a hand and pulled Junsu to his feet. Junsu swayed into him, eyes shutting.
“You okay?”
Junsu nodded.
“Good. Thanks again, for waking me up.”
Yoochun showered and dressed for work faster than he ever had before. He remembered just soon enough to shout a goodbye to Junsu and then left, hoping he didn’t miss the last train to his work.
Part 2: Laughter
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