Satisfied (02): Wasn't, Didn't
Here's the second part of Satisfied, this one from Jaejoong's perspective. It didn't turn out quite as angsty as I had thought it might, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, so I'm interested to see what people think.
Wasn't, Didn't
pairing: Jaejoong/Yesung
Jaejoong had found Yunho that day sitting on the bank of the Han River, body frighteningly still, eyes glazed over. He would later learn what had happened between him and Heechul, prying bits and pieces of the story out of him like splinters, but at the time he had just known that Yunho was somehow broken, and had laid out a simple, temporary goal for himself: to make Yunho smile. It took two months before he finally succeeded, and on that same day Yunho had given him a chaste kiss and told Jaejoong that he loved him. Jaejoong had smacked him across the back of the head and told him not to say shit like that when he was still so emotionally fucked up, and then had kissed him back, hard, and told him he'd better goddamn say it again when he started feeling more normal.
Yunho had, and then they were together and it was natural and comfortable and right. Jaejoong was surprised, for two reasons. The first was that he had never been even remotely interested in Yunho before, and Yunho told him that he had felt the same way. As time passed, however, he gradually came to realize that the few months he had spent taking care of Yunho-when Yunho, who carried them all, had faltered and Jaejoong had stepped in to bear his burden-had changed their relationship silently but fundamentally, and so he came to accept their sudden mutual interest as simply the most extreme consequence of this.
The second reason for Jaejoong's surprise was that Yunho was still in love with Heechul. He knew this because Yunho told him so, had told him repeatedly before they decided to get together just to make sure he understood, would tell him again now, unflinchingly, if he were to ask. This worried Jaejoong, because in his experience when someone said he was in love with two separate people, it usually meant that he was in love with one and didn't have the heart to get rid of the other. Still, Jaejoong had learned to read Yunho, and nothing suggested that his claims to be in love with both of them were anything but true, so he came to accept them as both fact and a part of their relationship. Practically, this meant that most of the time he had Yunho all to himself, and occasionally he would have to share him with the memory of Heechul. During these times, he learned, Yunho thought that he needed Jaejoong to keep him from falling apart at the seams, and while Jaejoong thought that Yunho was stronger than he gave himself credit for, he was happy to hold him when he cried, just as careful in keeping him whole as he was when he had first put all the pieces back together.
Still, these times were draining, and by the time he had calmed Yunho down enough to let go of him he often found that he himself had begun to shake from the strain. Although he had quit smoking, on these rare occasions Jaejoong allowed himself to sneak outside for a few long, exquisite drags to calm his nerves before returning to work. This time, when he finally left Yunho in the hair and make up room he made his way swiftly through the crowded backstage hallways to the fire exit, pushed through the heavy rusted metal door and leaned on it to make sure it closed before the alarm sounded. He stood shivering, rubbing his arms in the cold, in a dark, narrow back alley. He had no cigarette, no lighter; he waited for a moment, then looking impatiently into the darkness he said, "Well?"
Yesung stepped out of the shadows, smirking, slid a cigarette into Jaejoong's fingers and lit it.
*
It had been different the first time it had happened. Jaejoong had bummed a cigarette off of one of their new staff members, one who still didn't know better, and it hadn't been until he was already outside that he realized he had nothing to light it with. "Fuck," he said vehemently, holding the cigarette in the corner of his mouth as his hands dug through coat pockets, hoping in vain that he would find a lighter that had somehow escaped the purge the year before. And then suddenly there was a hand in front of his face, and a lighter flared up and lit his cigarette, and he was so surprised that he dropped it into the oily puddle at his feet.
"Shit," he said, jumping a little, then upon seeing his cigarette floating in the iridescent sludge, "Fuck." He shot a glare to his side and saw Yesung, leaning casually on the wall, one foot up against it like James Dean. He was wearing a outfit of black leather, arms fully exposed, facing up as exhaled. His eyes looked sultry behind the makeup and the smoke from his cigarette. Jaejoong felt his lips part slightly, told himself he didn't want to touch Yesung's arm or run his thumb over the smoky purple on his eyelids, told himself he was angry. He kept glaring.
Yesung smiled, just a little, then took the cigarette from his lips and held it out to Jaejoong. After a moment's hesitation, Jaejoong grabbed it and took a deep drag, exhaling with gusto when he felt the smoke fill his lungs, the nicotine run through him like a jolt. After another two pulls, Yesung moved forward and suddenly he was too close, far too close, and he reached up, took the cigarette from Jaejoong's lips and took another drag on it. "You know," he said, eyes lidded, voice rumbling, "this is bad for you," and he flicked the cigarette onto the ground. He had disappeared behind the door before Jaejoong could open his mouth to respond.
The next time, Jaejoong hadn't expected him to be there again, had made sure to get both a cigarette and a lighter, but as soon as he slid out the door and lit up he saw red embers glowing in the shadows, and then Yesung emerged, this time wearing a coat and jeans. They smoked together in silence, Jaejoong feeling slightly petulant, irritated that his relaxation should be disturbed by the strange tension he felt between them. After a while, Yesung flicked his cigarette away, and then suddenly he was too close again, and he had taken a pen from his pocket and was writing something on Jaejoong's free hand as he said, "I'm going to this place tonight. You should come." This time Jaejoong at least had the time to say, "Hey!" before Yesung's back vanished behind the closing door.
Jaejoong wasn't going to go, didn't even consider it, and yet that night he found himself getting out of a taxi at the intersection scribbled on his hand. It was by the river and there were no buildings in sight, and he thought for a second that it had been some kind of cruel joke until he saw Yesung beckoning him from behind an open-air food stall. He walked dubiously towards him, sat down on one of the plastic stools, and then suddenly Yesung began talking to him as if they were old friends, joking and laughing and asking him questions, and before Jaejoong knew it they were sharing blood sausage and spicy mochi and drinking out of one dusty can of beer and it seemed like they had known each other forever. He had never spoken much to Yesung before, and never particularly liked him the few times he had, but there was something nice about being there with him that night-something nice about street food by the river, about easy smiles, unhaunted eyes and unrestrained laughter; something nice about the way his knee felt pushed up against Yesung's. By the end of the night, he was flush with excitement and fatigue, and he felt a pang of disappointment rush through him when Yesung closed the door of his taxi and waved goodbye as they sped away. Jaejoong told himself that it didn't mean anything, that he was just eager to spend time with a new friend, that his heart hadn't raced when their knees had touched.
The next day Jaejoong got Yesung's number from Junsu, who he badgered to get it from Eunhyuk, and from then on he and Yesung went out together more and more often. He didn't tell Yunho because there was nothing to tell-he had just made a new friend. Sometimes they would meet up at a cafe or at a burger chain, sometimes see a movie or go to sing karaoke, sometimes just walk through the city and talk. Sometimes they held hands and hugged each other goodbye. Jaejoong didn't think it was anything, really, until he was forced to; until the night he stayed at Yesung's because it was too late to go home, and Yesung slid into bed behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist and whispered, "You know I'm totally in love with you, right?" Jaejoong didn't respond, didn't trust himself to, and the next morning he left in such a hurry that he forgot his favorite black-and-white striped knit cap.
*
Today Yesung was wearing that cap, Jaejoong noticed. He had been wearing it a lot recently; Jaejoong had seen him with it on TV, on his radio show. They smoked together in silence for a bit, and then Yesung said, "Heechul doesn't do it on purpose, you know. I'm sorry it's so rough on you two."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jaejoong said, flicking ash onto the ground. There was a pause, and then he said, "Look, about the two of us, about Yunho and me-"
And then Yesung was too close again, and his kiss tasted like smoke and coffee and promises Jaejoong knew he would keep, and when he pulled away he said, "I know. But I'll wait."
Yesung disappeared before Jaejoong began to tell himself not to cry, because he didn't care, he wasn't one of those people who could love more than one person at a time. He was in love with Yunho, so he wasn't in love with Yesung. He wanted to be with Yunho, so he didn't want to be with Yesung. It was as simple as that.
Jaejoong found that he was reminding himself more and more everyday.
Wasn't, Didn't
pairing: Jaejoong/Yesung
Jaejoong had found Yunho that day sitting on the bank of the Han River, body frighteningly still, eyes glazed over. He would later learn what had happened between him and Heechul, prying bits and pieces of the story out of him like splinters, but at the time he had just known that Yunho was somehow broken, and had laid out a simple, temporary goal for himself: to make Yunho smile. It took two months before he finally succeeded, and on that same day Yunho had given him a chaste kiss and told Jaejoong that he loved him. Jaejoong had smacked him across the back of the head and told him not to say shit like that when he was still so emotionally fucked up, and then had kissed him back, hard, and told him he'd better goddamn say it again when he started feeling more normal.
Yunho had, and then they were together and it was natural and comfortable and right. Jaejoong was surprised, for two reasons. The first was that he had never been even remotely interested in Yunho before, and Yunho told him that he had felt the same way. As time passed, however, he gradually came to realize that the few months he had spent taking care of Yunho-when Yunho, who carried them all, had faltered and Jaejoong had stepped in to bear his burden-had changed their relationship silently but fundamentally, and so he came to accept their sudden mutual interest as simply the most extreme consequence of this.
The second reason for Jaejoong's surprise was that Yunho was still in love with Heechul. He knew this because Yunho told him so, had told him repeatedly before they decided to get together just to make sure he understood, would tell him again now, unflinchingly, if he were to ask. This worried Jaejoong, because in his experience when someone said he was in love with two separate people, it usually meant that he was in love with one and didn't have the heart to get rid of the other. Still, Jaejoong had learned to read Yunho, and nothing suggested that his claims to be in love with both of them were anything but true, so he came to accept them as both fact and a part of their relationship. Practically, this meant that most of the time he had Yunho all to himself, and occasionally he would have to share him with the memory of Heechul. During these times, he learned, Yunho thought that he needed Jaejoong to keep him from falling apart at the seams, and while Jaejoong thought that Yunho was stronger than he gave himself credit for, he was happy to hold him when he cried, just as careful in keeping him whole as he was when he had first put all the pieces back together.
Still, these times were draining, and by the time he had calmed Yunho down enough to let go of him he often found that he himself had begun to shake from the strain. Although he had quit smoking, on these rare occasions Jaejoong allowed himself to sneak outside for a few long, exquisite drags to calm his nerves before returning to work. This time, when he finally left Yunho in the hair and make up room he made his way swiftly through the crowded backstage hallways to the fire exit, pushed through the heavy rusted metal door and leaned on it to make sure it closed before the alarm sounded. He stood shivering, rubbing his arms in the cold, in a dark, narrow back alley. He had no cigarette, no lighter; he waited for a moment, then looking impatiently into the darkness he said, "Well?"
Yesung stepped out of the shadows, smirking, slid a cigarette into Jaejoong's fingers and lit it.
*
It had been different the first time it had happened. Jaejoong had bummed a cigarette off of one of their new staff members, one who still didn't know better, and it hadn't been until he was already outside that he realized he had nothing to light it with. "Fuck," he said vehemently, holding the cigarette in the corner of his mouth as his hands dug through coat pockets, hoping in vain that he would find a lighter that had somehow escaped the purge the year before. And then suddenly there was a hand in front of his face, and a lighter flared up and lit his cigarette, and he was so surprised that he dropped it into the oily puddle at his feet.
"Shit," he said, jumping a little, then upon seeing his cigarette floating in the iridescent sludge, "Fuck." He shot a glare to his side and saw Yesung, leaning casually on the wall, one foot up against it like James Dean. He was wearing a outfit of black leather, arms fully exposed, facing up as exhaled. His eyes looked sultry behind the makeup and the smoke from his cigarette. Jaejoong felt his lips part slightly, told himself he didn't want to touch Yesung's arm or run his thumb over the smoky purple on his eyelids, told himself he was angry. He kept glaring.
Yesung smiled, just a little, then took the cigarette from his lips and held it out to Jaejoong. After a moment's hesitation, Jaejoong grabbed it and took a deep drag, exhaling with gusto when he felt the smoke fill his lungs, the nicotine run through him like a jolt. After another two pulls, Yesung moved forward and suddenly he was too close, far too close, and he reached up, took the cigarette from Jaejoong's lips and took another drag on it. "You know," he said, eyes lidded, voice rumbling, "this is bad for you," and he flicked the cigarette onto the ground. He had disappeared behind the door before Jaejoong could open his mouth to respond.
The next time, Jaejoong hadn't expected him to be there again, had made sure to get both a cigarette and a lighter, but as soon as he slid out the door and lit up he saw red embers glowing in the shadows, and then Yesung emerged, this time wearing a coat and jeans. They smoked together in silence, Jaejoong feeling slightly petulant, irritated that his relaxation should be disturbed by the strange tension he felt between them. After a while, Yesung flicked his cigarette away, and then suddenly he was too close again, and he had taken a pen from his pocket and was writing something on Jaejoong's free hand as he said, "I'm going to this place tonight. You should come." This time Jaejoong at least had the time to say, "Hey!" before Yesung's back vanished behind the closing door.
Jaejoong wasn't going to go, didn't even consider it, and yet that night he found himself getting out of a taxi at the intersection scribbled on his hand. It was by the river and there were no buildings in sight, and he thought for a second that it had been some kind of cruel joke until he saw Yesung beckoning him from behind an open-air food stall. He walked dubiously towards him, sat down on one of the plastic stools, and then suddenly Yesung began talking to him as if they were old friends, joking and laughing and asking him questions, and before Jaejoong knew it they were sharing blood sausage and spicy mochi and drinking out of one dusty can of beer and it seemed like they had known each other forever. He had never spoken much to Yesung before, and never particularly liked him the few times he had, but there was something nice about being there with him that night-something nice about street food by the river, about easy smiles, unhaunted eyes and unrestrained laughter; something nice about the way his knee felt pushed up against Yesung's. By the end of the night, he was flush with excitement and fatigue, and he felt a pang of disappointment rush through him when Yesung closed the door of his taxi and waved goodbye as they sped away. Jaejoong told himself that it didn't mean anything, that he was just eager to spend time with a new friend, that his heart hadn't raced when their knees had touched.
The next day Jaejoong got Yesung's number from Junsu, who he badgered to get it from Eunhyuk, and from then on he and Yesung went out together more and more often. He didn't tell Yunho because there was nothing to tell-he had just made a new friend. Sometimes they would meet up at a cafe or at a burger chain, sometimes see a movie or go to sing karaoke, sometimes just walk through the city and talk. Sometimes they held hands and hugged each other goodbye. Jaejoong didn't think it was anything, really, until he was forced to; until the night he stayed at Yesung's because it was too late to go home, and Yesung slid into bed behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist and whispered, "You know I'm totally in love with you, right?" Jaejoong didn't respond, didn't trust himself to, and the next morning he left in such a hurry that he forgot his favorite black-and-white striped knit cap.
*
Today Yesung was wearing that cap, Jaejoong noticed. He had been wearing it a lot recently; Jaejoong had seen him with it on TV, on his radio show. They smoked together in silence for a bit, and then Yesung said, "Heechul doesn't do it on purpose, you know. I'm sorry it's so rough on you two."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jaejoong said, flicking ash onto the ground. There was a pause, and then he said, "Look, about the two of us, about Yunho and me-"
And then Yesung was too close again, and his kiss tasted like smoke and coffee and promises Jaejoong knew he would keep, and when he pulled away he said, "I know. But I'll wait."
Yesung disappeared before Jaejoong began to tell himself not to cry, because he didn't care, he wasn't one of those people who could love more than one person at a time. He was in love with Yunho, so he wasn't in love with Yesung. He wanted to be with Yunho, so he didn't want to be with Yesung. It was as simple as that.
Jaejoong found that he was reminding himself more and more everyday.