Title: Unspoken
Length: One shot. (2,921 words)
Author: Guu
Rating: PG
Genre: not sure...
Summary: A stranger flirts with Jaejoong in a club and the singer reflects on the state of his relationship with love. Something like that.
This one came up while I was at a club (La Plop!) dancing and two guys started making out right in front of me. FML don't ask me why I think about fics in the club =/ As usual, thanx Simona for correcting this :)♥
(tip: the music player above this doesn't work in 64-bit browsers!)
Unspoken.
Jaejoong nurses a glass of something with vodka and looks around from the bar. The music in the club is strong and steady and he can feel it beating in his chest; he doesn't know most of the songs that get played, but the loud sound they make is enough to make him feel comfortable. He observes the place through the blinding lights and settles his eyes on the crowd, slick with sweat, entranced. They all move as one.
To his right, Changmin downs a bottle of water and looks unusually pleased. There's that... that contentment in his face that Jaejoong hasn't seen for a while, because they haven't been themselves for a long time.
A few meters away Yoochun flirts with this or that girl, and they all find him funny either because he's Asian and he looks funny or because they have no idea what he's trying to say. Junsu is dancing behind him. Of course. Junsu dances, that's what he does. Yunho is somewhere behind, but nowhere in sight.
Jaejoong nurses his glass with a bright smile. This is what it must feel like to be normal.
Their job has taken them to many places. Not just around Korea and Japan and Asia, but to faraway places: Paris, Prague, L.A., New York, Bora Bora, Australia, Canada, Brasil... the list goes on and on. It's always exciting and fantastic to find themselves at this or that new location, but there's always one big drawback on traveling because of your job: you work. You work, and then you go home.
This time around, however, things have changed. It's a 30 hour flight to one of the big capital cities somewhere on the east coast of southern South America, and after wrapping up the filming of a special video surprisinlgy early, management decides everyone can do whatever they want for the remaining two days. Fans are either scarce, unkowing or nonexistant here, and they don't consider letting their boys roam free a threat.
The city is big and noisy, a disjointed blending of Seoul, New York, Paris and something distinctively southamerican. A skyline dotted with skyscrapers followed by fine european chateaux and dirty little patches of demolished houses, all painted with the same dynamism and energy that only large cities possess. The language is a lost cause from the very start, so all five men resort to unhelpful dictionaries and books of Korean-English-Spanish that don't take them very far. The food is to die for, or so Changmin says after their first full meal together. It costs them a fortune, too.
But the best part of this city isn't warmth of her people, or her large, beautiful colonial houses; it isn't the color of her streets, the taste of her sweets or the blaring rage of her nightlife. No. The true beauty of this city lies outside herself: it's how amazingly anonymous the five of them are. It's how they walked for at least three hours downtown and didn't get stopped once; it's how it took them twenty minutes to be able to find someone willing to give them some directions in poor sign language, or how people give Jaejoong weird looks just because he's weird, with no trace of recognition or anything else but pure, unabridged annoyance or disgust. It feels like Heaven.
Then comes the night. Someone from management happens to know someone who has family living in the city, and their oldest grand daughter, a half Korean who barely speaks the language and couldn't care less for her heritage, has spent the past three days showing them around and now offers to take everyone who cares to join to her favourite club.
Hence their whereabouts: a noisy club in an old building that used to work as a theatre and now shelters the nightly escapades of a thousand youths or so.
Jaejoong can't help but smile embarrasedly as he follows the crowd. He spots two guys kissing a little bit to his left and he tries to act as if he weren't looking at them. The first kissing same-sex couple had shocked him. The second had flustered him. The third one had simply amused him. Their impromptu city guide had explained (at the sight of Jaejoong's glowing cheeks and Yunho's look of utter outrage) that she had taken them to some kind of everything-goes party; that everyone was welcome to be themselves in this place. It had only taken a little bit of persuasion on his part to convince everyone that it was okay to stay.
Two hours later have him sitting by the bar, mind a little buzzed but otherwise clear. He isn't as good or fond of dancing as Junsu or Yunho are, and he definitely isn't planning on picking up a girl (and he doubts he dares to pick up a guy), so he simply sits, amazed at the normalcy of the act.
He lets his mind roam free after a while, following one of the kissing couple's guys as he crosses the distance towards the bar and accidentally brushes Jaejoong's arm in the search for a drink for his partner. He wonders, for a second, what would it be like if his homeland was as tolerant as this. Would it change things for him? He's about to delve into deeper thoughts when he catches a pretty stranger taking a quick look at him and swiftly winking his eye. It's a bold, flirty gesture and Jaejoong can't help but smile embarrassedly at it, nodding at the stranger with a grin full of teeth. The man notices this and smirks, walking towards him. He's tall and well built, dark hair falling haphazardly over amber eyes and eyelashes longer and thicker than Jaejoong has ever seen. He walks with sultry steps, the sway of his hips hypnotizing, and the Korean can't help but notice how gorgeous he is and how the way his eyes are fixed on Jaejoong are enough to make him feel slightly turned on.
When he reaches the bar he walks past Jaejoong and talks to the barman, and just when the Korean is starting to feel like he imagined everything, the guy turns towards him with a warm smile and says something Jaejoong can't understand. He shrugs, feeling a little stupid.
"No understand," he blurts out in English, yelling through the deep beat of the music. The guy takes a step closer to hear better and Jaejoong feels weird for talking into the ear of someone he doesn't know. He repeats the words into the side of the man's face and the smile he gests in return when they pull apart is blinding. Jaejoong thinks his face must be flushed a very dark shade of red at this: he's widely known for his social skills and quick bonding with random people, but nobody had ever been this straight forward with him before. It was always him the one searching for contact.
The man leans forward again but this time he's the one to whisper something into Jaejoong's ear.
"You're beautiful," he says. His accent is strong and his voice raspy in all the right places, and Jaejoong doesn't have to be a genius at linguistics to understand what he means. He chuckles with a great deal of embarrassment again, covering his smile with his hand like he hasn't done in a long time.
"You too," he replies, surprised at his own boldness. The man beams at him and Jaejoong finds him incredibly adorable.
He says, "Let me buy you a drink," and Jaejoong can't understand a thing of it, but the man turns to the barman and orders two of something and he gets the drill. As the man gets the drinks, Jaejoong discreetly looks over to where Changmin is. The younger man is looking at him and Jaejoong catches the wariness in his eyes. He shrugs in reply and Changmin shrugs back. He stands up with a frown and exits the bar area, and Jaejoong is thankful for a second that Changmin is willing to accept his hyung even when he doesn't approve of his actions.
The singer watches his band mate get lost in the crowd before some shuffling at his side catches his attention again. He goes back to the stranger as he offers the Korean a lime green drink and his empty hand, palm turned up. An invitation, if Jaejoong has ever seen one.
He nods coyly and takes it, and the man pulls Jaejoong into the crowd. They walk towards the side of the dance floor and the stranger sways every once in a while, following the beat of the song. Jaejoong can't dance for his life, and is relieved when the man takes him to the sides rather than the middle of the dance floor. They stop and the stranger takes his drink to his mouth, slowly moving side to side while his his eyes are stuck on the Asian beauty in front of him.
They try to talk for a few minutes, somehow making their way through thick accents and poor knowledge of language and the thump thump thump of the music. Jaejoong can hardly get half of the things the guy says, so he nods and smiles in what he hopes is a confident way, if only to get to hear that raspy voice one more time. He also steals eager glances at the man's pretty face every time he leans down to talk to his ear. His plump mouth looks so kissable that the Korean can't help but stare at it even after the guy has finished saying whatever he was trying to say and is looking at him, waiting for a reply.
He smirks, and that's when Jaejoong realizes he has been staring. His eyes shot up in mild alarm, and he sort of freaks out when the guy closes in and stands closer than Jaejoong supposes is right for comfort. He whispers something into the Korean's ear that goes unheard and gently lays both hands around the singer's hips, with such tenderness that Jaejoong doesn't feel it's out of place at all.
He's good, the Korean thinks to himself once the initial awkwarndess has worn out and he can feel the warmth of the man's body against him. It also occurs to him that he has never in his life done something as irrational and reckless as this, although, if he thinks about it, he has. Don't think about it, he reminds himself. You're here to not think about it. He nods to himself. He doesn't care about reckless or irrational or stupid. He wants this, and he will go through with it, however selfish and idiotic it may be.
The man says something else and makes them part slowly, and Jaejoong has to bite his lower lip as the stranger looks him in the eyes and leans in, softly nuzzling his face with his nose. Jaejoong closes his eyes and tilts his head, and soon feels the guy's plush mouth ghosting over his.
Kissing in public is something else. It's elating, and it has nothing to do with how good of a kisser his temporary partner turns out to be. Jaejoong opens his mouth and feels how the man's hands roam across his back in circular motions, making goosebumps crawl up his spine. His tongue finds his partner's and he can taste the fruity quality of their drinks in it. Fresh, citrusy, but hot in a completely different way. He lets the man guide him a few steps back towards a wide column and threads his fingers through the guy's hair to hold him in place; their faces shift and they once again plunge into each other's mouth. This is so new, Jaejoong wants to think, this could be so normal. This could be such an everyday thing. If only he could have this: the mouth, the guy, the intimacy. Not this guy, or any guy. But the guy. The one he wants so bad and he can't have.
This guy is good, thought. Jaejoong would go to stupid lengths to keep him if he weren't already in love with someone else, so he just kisses him harder and presses further into his body, gives him only what he can.
They kiss for a very long time. The man holds him like something important, holds him right.
"You're beautiful," he repeats. Jaejoong nods against his neck, once they aren't kissing anymore. He sighs and opens his eyes and suddenly finds himself looking at a familiar face, and a familiar scowl. He flinches a little and the man notices it right away, letting go of him with a question in his gaze. He says: "what?" and Jaejoong makes a face. He doesn't know how to say 'unrequited love' in English. He points at Yunho instead, and the man doesn't have to be a genius at linguistics either to figure out the expression on the handsome Asian boring holes into his back.
"Boyfriend?" he asks. Jaejoong shakes his head.
"Complicated," he replies. The man gives him a knowing look before letting go of his hips with a nod. He leans down to whisper "Good luck," and has the nerve to give him a long sloppy kiss on the mouth before finally getting lost with another flirty wink.
For once, Jaejoong does look outraged. He blinks and splutters until the man is gone and then breathes in, for he knows Yunho is a bitch to deal with when it comes to them and whatever it is that's going on between them. He can see Yunho approaching him and taking his arm forecefully, leading him once more through the crowd and into a better lit area where the music sounds a little subdued. He seems furious and Jaejoong allows him to take it out on him, but when they reach a cleared spot against one of the corners, he doesn't look as angry and he looks confused, or maybe even hurt.
"Jaejoong-ah," he yells, trying to get through the noise. He makes Jaejoong stand against the corner a little more gently than Jaejoong thought he would and puts both his hands at either side of his bandmate, leaning them against the wall. Jaejoong doesn't say anything; he looks at Yunho with a flat expression and watches as he leans over and repeats his name and hangs his head down. He goes silent after that, making Jaejoong sigh.
"Yunho-yah," he says, leaning his own head forward until it's touching Yunho's, "I swear I understand." He bring his hands up to the sides of Yunho's head and gently takes it in them. "I know why you don't want to do this, and I respect it very much," he says. He can hear his voice despite the noise, and it comes out strong and confident, nothing like the absurd despair settling in the pit of his stomach as he lets the words out. Yunho nods and allows Jaejoong to pull him forward, to be embraced and wrapped in his warmth.
"But Yunho-yah," the singer continues, this time talking directly into the man's ears, "I have to deal with all this somehow. I have to do something. I can't just sit around and feel pity for myself for the rest of my life. Just let me deal with it my own way, like I let you do it your way as well."
Yunho breathes into his neck and remains silent for a few more minutes, until he pulls himself away from Jaejoong's embrace and finally looks up at his face.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice latched with confusion. "Jaejoong-ah." He hesitates a little before continuing. "The things I feel for you... they're strong. Very strong, and. And, amazing. But I need to sort them out and I need to sort myself out before I can give that to you."
That.
My heart.
Jaejoong doesn't know if Yunho will ever sort himself out. He doesn't even know if he wants to sort himself out, at least not the rational part of him, the one that dictates he must be a good son, marry some girl and follow a more normally established life. The only thing Jaejoong knows is that he's trying. He is fucking trying like he has for the past three years, and Jaejoong lets him because he has no other choice. Because he is already far too gone.
"I know," he says. He takes the only step left towards Yunho and embraces him one more time, pressing their bodies together as his fingers crawl through the back of Yunho's neck and into his hair. He sighs and leaves a small kiss right beneath Yunho's ear, feeling the younger man fidget a little under his arms.
"Shh... nobody is looking," he whispers against his skin, and the dancer breathes out, relaxes and decides he'll indulge Jaejoong for tonight.
Yunho clings onto his bandmate's muscular back; the hug is fierce and longing, and despite how tired Jaejoong is of all the heartache, the sheer intimacy of the gesture (not physically, no; the complete and full understanding of two souls) is enough to revive that never ending flame of hope he keeps tucked deep inside. After all, this is it, and he feels wanted, he feels right.
He smiles despite himself. This he knows: Yunho's heart has been his for a very long time, for Jaejoong doesn't need to be a genius at linguistics to understand the unspoken language of love.