fic: how to break hearts and lose your own
fic: how to break hearts and lose your own
fandom: kpop
characters: Kim Jaejoong, Nam Woohyun/Kim Kibum, ot7
setting: canon; sometime in the future (ignoring the fact that Jaejoong is army-bound)
word count: ~ 5,000
summary: you spent your life breaking the hearts of boys and after all this time you haven't learned to protect your own. Jaejoong takes Woohyun under his wing and teaches him to seduce the elusive Key … and looses his heart in the process
recipient: vergoldung- sorry it's so late but this fic was a fucking wrangle
“I only know how to break them, not how to keep them.”
“Come on, that's the easy part.”
Sungyeol hears a bitter laugh and the sound of ice clinking in a glass. Technically there's no alcohol allowed in the recording spaces after last time, but Kim Jaejoong is above the rules somehow. (He's the reason why there are so many rules.)
“Hyung...” Woohyun's voice is plaintive and pitying through the door. Sungyeol stiffens his spine and opens the door quickly before his friend can finish whatever his thought was.
(He saw the pair after the last fight. It was even less pretty than the brawls he sometimes picks with Woohyun.)
(Probably because he drinks a lot less and is careful not to show others how ugly his own self-deprecation can get. Some things he keeps to himself.)
“Come on lazy-ass, I'm hungry and Sunggyu says he's paying if we hurry,” Sungyeol announces to the room as he slams the door open, making as much noise as possible. He blinks down at Jaejoong sprawled on the floor with a glass in his hand and a bottle leaning against his side. “I see you're being productive.”
Jaejoong smiles lazily up at him and salutes him with his glass, “My work is never done.”
Sungyeol resists kicking him and feels his smile tighten, “So I hear,” he mutters under his breath.
The man sprawled on the floor hears him, of course, and smirks up at him before leaning his head to take a drink from his glass.
Sungyeol's eyes shift to Woohyun standing with his arms folded over his chest, leaning one shoulder into the window and staring into the distance with blind eyes. “Hyung?” Sungyeol feels his words get caught and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Ya Nam Woohyun!”
The shout didn't rattle Woohyun the way he thought it would, the older man just slowly shifted his gaze from the window pane to Sungyeol's face. There was something there that was more tired than usual.
Sungyeol squeezes his hands into fists at his sides and takes a deep breath.
He didn't like this collaboration. He was against it from the start. They sent Dongwoo into his room to appease him after a week of silent, barely-restrained sulking. The air was thick and heavy around him, he took a step toward his friend.
“Come on, let's get food in you.”
Woohyun pushes himself off the window as if he had to fight against a large pressure to free himself, to walk around.
Sungyeol pretends not to notice the way Jaejoong reached out his hand and grazed Woohyun's calf with his fingertips. Pretending not to notice that Woohyun pretended not to notice.
In the hallway Sungyeol doesn't even stoop to teasing, “You shouldn't drink so much.”
“I never drink with Jae-hyung,” Woohyun says solemnly.
Sungyeol didn't know what to say to that so he shoves his friend in the shoulder and tears off running down the hall whooping, Woohyun hot on his heels.
Maybe if they pretended to be green trainees, running after the prize and still wide-eyed with hope, then he could stop feeling like it's all about to crash down around them.
The record is a success. Even more of a success than that mishap with Kim Kibum last year, the executives say. Everyone pats him on the back and smiles at him in the hallways.
He invites Sunggyu to come with him that night to celebrate with Jaejoong and some others. Sunggyu watches him read the txt messages with a strange pit in his stomach. He doesn't really like the crowd, but Sungyeol is in Japan shooting a drama and Hoya is hidden away with his girlfriend.
They leave for a world tour in two days anyway.
What can happen in one night?
So he shrugs and gets ready. Woohyun makes him change three times before throwing a fit. Sungjong finally comes into the room and patiently dresses Sunggyu himself silently, as if Sunggyu was an unruly child.
On his way out the door Sungjong says quietly, “Take care of him.”
It's not a request.
Sunggyu doesn't want to know what will happen if he doesn't bring home a Woohyun singing to the rooftops with happiness. (Not that they've seen that Woohyun in a long time.)
And here he thought he was off the hook with Sungyeol out of town.
The club is loud and crowded, but they are ushered into a back room immediately. Everyone here appears to know Woohyun and he is greeted with smiles.
The back room is just like the front, only here Sunggyu is aware of mostly everyone's names without needing to be introduced and he's starting to feel a bit small. (It's not like he's never brushed elbows and shoulders with any of these names at an event or backstage somewhere. It's not like he hasn't met them or drunk with any of them before. But there's something about the atmosphere here, it makes him feel like that high school kid practicing in garage dreaming of being a rockstar.)
They are separated pretty early on. There's really less people than Sunggyu first assumed, but enough to keep the conversation going and the liquor never stops flowing. He keeps an eye on Woohyun, who seems to be holding up okay, sitting in a dark corner on a low couch with Jaejoong and laughing occasionally.
It's been a couple hours and the small crowd is dwindling to something much smaller, a bit more intimate, (a bit more unruly and the atmosphere seems thicker), when Kim Kibum steps through the door like a prince with a sideways smile and a hot model in attendance.
Sunggyu shakes his head, irritated as always with the way Kibum flaunts his penchant for men. Such things are dangerous - especially for idols. And there he is, letting the poor guy fawn all over him like it's perfectly normal.
“Idiot,” he mutters under his breath.
“No kidding,” a voice says beside him. Sunggyu blames the light and the noise later for not knowing who spoke, but the truth was that he was too drunk to remember in the morning. “Showing up here like this, he's just going to start trouble.”
Sunggyu looks over to Woohyun, who has leaned towards the edge of the couch and is watching Kibum intently. Sunggyu watches as Jaejoong watches Woohyun watch Key across the dark room. Watches the older man pull his bandmate down to recline on the couch and whisper in his ear. He watches their fingers intertwine subtly (he thinks blurrily of the way Woohyun's fingers will sometimes catch Sungyeol's when his arm is wrapped around his shoulder and orders another drink) as they whisper to each other.
He doesn't see Woohyun get up or Kibum disappear. He's talking to someone about his outfit and the music playing and the upcoming tour when he glances back and sees Jaejoong moodily drinking alone on the couch in the corner.
Half an hour later a disheveled Woohyun pulls him out of the club roughly and throws him into a taxi. His shirt is buttoned crookedly and his hair is standing up in strange places.
Sunggyu leers at him in the cab, poking him in the chest, “Yerrrr drunk!” He can feel himself slurring his speech, but it's alright because they have the weekend off to celebrate Woohyun's single and prepare for their Monday morning departure. It's alright because there's no schedules in the morning and he just went to a club with his right-hand man and they drank with royalty. It's alright because Woohyun is drunk.
Woohyun sets Sunggyu's hand onto his lap and plays with his fingers absent-mindedly. “No, hyung. I'm not drunk.”
“But I saw you!”
“No,” Woohyun turns his eyes towards his hyung and they are surprisingly bright and hard. “You thought you saw me drinking, hyung. But I promise I'm as sober as a priest.” Woohyun stares at him for a moment and then tips his head back into the seat to stare at the roof with a sigh.
Sunggyu falls asleep in the cab with Woohyun hand in his, cool and still.
In the morning Sungjong's disdainful face greets him stonily, “Next time I'm sending Myungsoo. At least he can hold his liquor.”
Sunggyu doesn't sarcastically suggest that Sungjong take over Woohyun-babysitting duties. (Mostly because he doesn't want to admit how badly he failed. As long as they keep talking about it as band member support and not a juggling act to keep Woohyun safe from... well, as long as they don't talk about it then he can pretend everything is fine.)
(They're all pretending a lot more these days.)
He's never been so hungover in his life.
Woohyun is neither better nor worse than usual, but Dongwoo still treats him like a breakable object. (Dongwoo treats everyone like a breakable object, it's just those special few that he wants to keep safe that he is delicate with.)
He comes home from rehearsal with Kim Jaejoong neither elated nor crushed. Just sort of pensive.
It's so different from the rollercoaster of giddy Woohyun who recorded with Kim Kibum the previous year that Dongwoo feels almost breathless.
He thinks maybe that the ToHeart-Woohyun should have been the one to take his breath away, but that Woohyun was like a child, young and fresh-faced and smiling and bouncing around the apartment. That Woohyun wasn't careful, he was honest. Full of the joy that only an innocent young man doing what he loves with his favorite person can feel. His enthusiasm brought life into their lives, even when they were all dragging from rehearsals and events and dance practice.
Now, a year later, a very different Woohyun sits at the table with them in the mornings. He's harder, sharper, than he was a year ago.
Dongwoo hears Woohyun talking behind his half-open door and so he pauses to listen for just a moment, not wanting to interrupt.
“Yes, I did it just like you said, hyung.” Woohyun's laugh is low and in his chest, Dongwoo has never heard him laugh quite like that before. Like a man who is satisfied with himself and not at all like a young boy searching for happiness with grasping hands. “Well I improvised ... no I'm not going to tell you … a gentleman would never kiss and tell … you aren't a gentleman, hyung … don't … hyung don't say things like that … how much have you had to d- … you should let me come out with you tonight, I can … schedules can wait … Jaejoong that's enough!”
“Knock-knock Woohyunnie!!!” Dongwoo flies into the room like a bat out of hell, trying to hide the fear that suddenly crept up his spine at the tone of desperation and anger that somehow made it's way out of Woohyun's beautiful mouth.
Woohyun places a finger over his lips and turns away from Dongwoo, who is bouncing on his toes as if he can't contain his news (there is no news) (he just came down for a visit) (maybe suggest ordering takeout and then watch Woohyun cook in the kitchen) (sitting on the counter and swinging his feet as Woohyun sings to himself while cooking and making ridiculous jokes) (they haven't done that in months) and he can't hear the conversation anymore, but when Woohyun hangs up and turns to him, there's a tightness to his smile.
Later, Woohyun leans against the counter next to Dongwoo and leans his head into his shoulder and asks, “Have you ever met someone and thought, God. I feel sorry for whoever falls in love with you?”
Dongwoo stills his swinging feet and leans his head onto Woohyun's for a moment, thinking of the best answer.
And then Woohyun is swinging him off the counter and they are wrestling on the couch, Dongwoo giggling madly as Woohyun tries to tickle him in that perfect spot.
He never answers Woohyun's question. The answer is, You.
But he keeps that to himself.
Dongwoo is busy in his room with one of the backup dancers and Sungyeol is in Hoya's room playing video games and Sungjong is on Skype with his family and Sunggyu told him very sternly that under no conditions was he to disturb his sleep and that's how Myungsoo ended up outside Woohyun's door with his pillow clutched to his chest.
Woohyun opened the door, his cell phone up to his ear, and inclined his head towards the bed as he walked back into the recesses of the room. Myungsoo scampered in to avoid the door slamming back in his face and jumped on the bed with pleasure. The others cycled him about during touring - everyone wanting their own room except for him. He knew it made him appear to be like a pet or something to the managers, but he didn't like sleeping in strange places all alone. And they made enough money for everyone to have a big double-wide for themselves, with their own shower and their own mini-bar. It just so happened that Myungsoo's bed was never slept in.
Myungsoo untucked the sheets from the foot of the bed and fluffed the blankets a bit before curling up on one side (the left side) one pillow at his back and another under his head and chest.
Then he looked up at Woohyun, silhouetted against the night sky, his lean body jutting through the skyline of the bright city behind him. Myungsoo sleepily noted to himself that Woohyun should always look like that - ragged tanktop clinging to his muscles and long, baggy pants cloaking his legs.
When Woohyun stepped towards the bed after a while, head bent as he listened intently to the voice on the other line, and Myungsoo inclined his head towards him like a cat, “You look like a samurai, hyung. You should ask one of the manager-hyungs to find you a kung fu movie.”
Woohyun smiled and tugged lightly on Myungsoo's hair as he brushed his fingers through it (Myungsoo couldn't see his face clearly, but there was a certain way his voice sounded when he smiled that Myungsoo knew the way he knew what Sungyeol's footfalls sound like after a day of dance rehearsal, or the particular musk that lingers on Hoya's skin after he's gone for a jog), “Samurai's don't do kung fu.”
Myungsoo was about to rebutt when Woohyun turned away again, his voice low into the phone as he walked back to the window, “No hyung, it's just Myungsoo. He wants me to do an action movie. What do you think: Nam Woohyun and Tony Jaa...”
Myungsoo watched Woohyun listen to the other end of the line for a few more minutes before nestling down further into the blankets and falling into a light doze. He woke again when Woohyun settled into the bed beside him and sighed.
“Hyung? Who was that? Who could talk more than you?”
Woohyun reached out an arm and pulled Myungsoo into his chest, settling his chin on the top of Myungsoo's head before responded, letting out a light hum before spreading the sound into words, “Lots of people talk more than I do.”
“I've just never seen you so quiet before. You always have something to say.”
“You aren't around me all the time,” Woohyun's voice was soft and low and Myungsoo wondered if the reason why his hyung was suddenly so keen to let Myungsoo smoosh up against him the way he always wants - without even waiting for him to ask - was because the sight of Myungsoo's inquisitive eyes would have been to much tonight. He wasn't sure, but he felt as though they hadn't talked much lately and that suddenly bothered him.
“You've been so busy with your collaboration with Jaejoong-hyung,” Myungsoo protested, suddenly feeling like it was his fault that he wasn't around Woohyun all the time. “And that drama I had-”
“Ya! Kim Myungsoo! We can't be trainees tripping over each other forever. We should be happy that Infinite is doing so well we can all have solo projects.”
Myungsoo chewed on his thumbnail pondering this. It was all very well and good for Infinite to succeed and everyone to be happy. But he just didn't feel as though Woohyun was as happy as he once was. “Are you happy, hyung?”
“I've never been so ecstatic,” there was no smile in Woohyun's voice that time.
Myungsoo fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of Woohyun's breath.
Sungjong is pretty sure Paris is going to be a special kind of disaster. He's not entirely sure why, just an uneasy sense of dread as their dates for Paris performances loom closer. Usually he doesn't pay too terrible much attention to the schedule because it's not like they are allowed much sight-seeing time anyway, but Paris stands out in his mind like a big, red X.
Two days before they are supposed to arrive in Paris, he hears through the grapevine that Key and Taemin will be in Paris that weekend.
He wishes there was a way to call for reinforcements.
Management gives them a few days break in Paris. It was a surprise. They gave Sunggyu an old schedule without the extra time so that it could be a real break, a real surprise. They told no one.
Woohyun spends the free time sight-seeing arm-in-arm with Key. Their pictures are in all the tabloids. Paparazzi start following them around. Management seems pretty pleased with themselves, Woohyun and Key are still a hot ticket seller even now. What a nice coincidence, they beam at the group.
Sungjong gets word that Jaejoong dragged Junsu on an impromptu trip to Quebec. He turns his phone off and bullies Myungsoo and Sungjong into touring the city with him. Their antics annoy him and they tease him for being so surly. Eventually Hoya meets them and turns the younger boys loose, but Sungjong doesn't want good-natured stoicism, he wants the kids so that there's someone to be angry at.
Kim Kibum stands backstage and watches their performance. Sungjong prays under his breath that they stay professional.
He starts laughing hysterically and has to be pulled away when Key jumps out from behind a curtain during Woohyun's solo-stage and leads him into an “impromptu” duet. Their voices sound amazing together, but all Sungjong can hear are the fangirls screams and his own laughter. (Afterwards the fan-taken photos of them leaning into each other, their mics crossing over each other, their eyes so obviously hungry for each other will send him into a coughing fit that only Hoya has no patience for.)
After the show, back in the dressing room, Sungjong grabs Woohyun's elbow and hisses, “You better fucking know what you are doing, Nam Woohyun.”
Woohyun quirks one eyebrow at him and his eyes take on a sudden darkness, “I'm about to fuck my boyfriend, Sungjong. What are you doing?”
And with that, he shrugs Sungjong's hand off fiercely and stalks away.
(Sungjong doesn't have to check his phone. He knows what he'll see.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong leaving Infinite's Paris show early.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong drunk in Paris.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong on a flight back to Switzerland.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong on a snowy mountaintop with his bandmates.
He's seen them before.
He's just never been this close to the wreckage.)
Hotels gyms are always the same. Clean lines. Long rows of mirrors.
Empty except the occasional workaholic training for a marathon in the spare hours they afford themselves. Tablets set up on the treadmill and slowing, but never stopping, to take one of what must be the barrage of phone calls they get in the day.
Empty except tonight. When Hoya walks into the gym, a towel slung over his shoulder, he finds Woohyun on a treadmill, lightly jogging. He hops up on the machine next to Woohyun and smiles over at him, “Extra energy to burn?”
Woohyun laughs, a good, deep laugh that reaches all the way up to the crinkles in his eyes, and Hoya lets out the breath he was holding in his chest. “You know,” Woohyun says with a shrug. “A cold shower can only do so much.”
Hoya turns on his machine and chuckles. They jog silently side by side for a few minutes. Hoya always preferred to spend his gym time alone, but Woohyun seems to be the exception that proves the rule. Hoya can always depend on him to know when to be quiet and when to make light jokes and when to bring the heat.
When Hoya slows down to move to the free weights, Woohyun falls in step beside him. They have a developed a steady rhythm over the years that is hard to break.
They take turns spotting on the bench, running through the same cycles of moves that they always have. It's like a dance, Hoya thinks but doesn't say aloud. Simple, clean, predictable.
“Is Sungjong still mad about Paris?”
Hoya nearly drops a dumbbell on his foot. “Huh?” he manages to grunt out.
Woohyun drops his weights on the pile and sits on the floor, leaning against the wall, “He's just been weird ever since. And you'd be the one to know why.”
Hoya looks at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror as if that alternate Hoya will have the answer. He's a smug bastard, Hoya decides after a moment and turns his head to look down at his friend instead. “I think … we're all … just concerned … about … you.”
“Concerned?”
Fuck. This work out is ruined. The rhythm is all off and Woohyun is on the floor.
Hoya drops down beside him, wiping the sweat from his face with his towel and pushing Woohyun with his shoulder, “Everyone is always concerned for everyone. That's Infinite.”
Woohyun picks at the edge of his shorts, “I know what I'm doing.”
“Fuck. I'm sure you think you do, but juggling like this? It'd be less of a big deal if they were two nobodies, but you decided to string along Kim Jaejoong and the Almighty Key? I'm personally waiting for the ceiling to fall.”
“Stringing....?” Woohyun stares at him for a moment and then starts laughing. “Me? String along Jaejoong-hyung? It's not like that!”
“It looks like that.”
Woohyun draws in a breath, “Fuck Hoya, he helped me sort things out with Kibum.”
“Helped you?” Hoya shakes his head.
“Yeah … you know, pointers and stuff. He's a good hyung.”
“Are you sure that's all he is?”
“What else would he be?”
Woohyun texts him to meet at a small-ish club tucked away in a part of town Sungyeol has never been after filming. He doesn't even have time to go home and shower, just does what he can at the studio.
Woohyun's been happier since they got back to Seoul - since Paris … or maybe since before that. Or maybe he's not happier after all and Sungyeol has just grown accustomed to this new, quieter, softer Woohyun.
He's not nearly as fun to fight with anymore.
He's not as easy to read anymore. Like a distorted mirror where before there was a crystal clear image.
Sungyeol finds him in a booth near the DJ. He's laughing at something that Jaejoong has just said, Sungyeol presumes. There are three empty glasses on one side of the table and a full glass of something clear and glowing in Woohyun's hand. Sungyeol grabs it from him as he sits down. “Thanks, I'm parched,” he says by way of greeting.
He tips the glass to Jaejoong, whose features are momentarily distorted with a shot of possessiveness that Sungyeol has learned over time is not reserved for only Woohyun.
“Sungyeol give me back my drink.”
“My drink, you mean?” and Sungyeol downs the whole glass in one swig. It's been a long day and a long week and although he finds vodka tonic just shy of disgusting, it's a good place to start.
Only the liquid currently burning its way down his throat isn't burning. There's no alcohol in it at all, as far as he can tell.
Woohyun is giving him a look that could kill, so Sungyeol feigns a light cough and laughs, “Damn I needed that.”
Jaejoong rolls his eyes and takes a prim drink from his own glass full of something dark and smokey.
They sit and joke for a while, Sungyeol orders a real drink and tries to figure out how Woohyun has gotten the wait staff to know to bring him tonic straight again and again. After a few drinks he stops caring and starts leaning into Woohyun's shoulder a bit more, laughing a bit louder.
“If I wasn't a trusting man, I'd be very perturbed to find you here covered in men,” a voice says disdainfully from behind him. Sungyeol twists and finds Kibum smirking down at him.
“You like seeing me draped in pretty boys, admit it,” Woohyun says as he drags Kibum practically over Sungyeol's lap, wedging him between them firmly.
“I never said I didn't like it. I just said you should be thankful I'm not the jealous type.”
“You should be thanking me, actually,” Jaejoong says over the rim of his glass. “I'm the one that taught him all he knows.”
Kibum leans past Woohyun to look at Jaejoong with a cocky grin, “Is that right?”
“'S right.”
“Did you teach him that move with tongue that's kind of ---”
“No!” Sungyeol screeches and covers his ears with this hands. “For fuck's sake you promised! No dirty talk in public.”
“Don't be silly, this is all educational, isn't it hyung?” Kibum says teasingly.
Jaejoong nods solemnly, “All in the name of science... and yes, that's my move. You should really be giving me credit Woohyun.”
Sungyeol groans and puts his head on the table.
“He taught me everything I know!” Woohyun says gleefully and Sungyeol can hear him give Kibum a hard kiss on the mouth.
“Not everything,” Jaejoong mutters into his drink, signaling for the waiter with his fingers above the glass.
Sungyeol sees him the following week at a party in a club with his arm draped around the shoulders of his flavor of the week, but doesn't say hello because Woohyun is out somewhere with Key at another event and he's not in the habit of hanging around Jaejoong unless there's a reason.
He's at the bar ordering drinks for himself and a cute girl he's been admiring from afar for a while when Jaejoong appears at his elbow and gestures to the bartender.
“What was it?” Sungyeol suddenly blurts out, turning to Jaejoong with a glass in each hand, the moisture on the outside of the glass making his hands feel slippery and heavier than they actually are. “What was the thing you didn't teach him?”
Jaejoong doesn't turn to him, just stares pensively at his hands, fingers twined together as he leans his elbows on the bar.
“Whatever man, I was just curious. Sorry I asked.”
Sungyeol starts to turn away when he hears Jaejoong's voice just below the hum of the crowd, “Nothing. It was a joke.”
Sungyeol rolls his eyes and shoulders his way through the crowd, his arms raised to keep the drinks from being knocked out of his hands.
“What a dick,” he mutters to no one in particular.
Woohyun is sitting on the couch trying to decipher the song lyrics in his hands with Kibum's head in his lap and his hands... being rather distracting.
“Stop that you. I need to get these drafts back to Jaejoong-hyung early enough in the day so that he's around to get them.”
“You mean sober enough to care.”
Woohyun doesn't dignify that with a response, just swats Kibum's hand away from his face. “I'm seriously re-thinking cooking for you tonight.”
Kibum lowers his hand. “No you're not,” he says smugly. “You should know by now I see right through all your threats.”
Woohyun lowers the papers and looks down at the face smiling up at him with a sigh. “Just give me like ten more minutes, okay? And then I'll do whatever you want?”
Kibum's eyes light up and he purses his lips with thought. “Anything?!”
“Anything...” he pauses. “Within reason.”
“I can be perfectly reasonable.”
“You can be a perfect pain in the ass.”
“You like my ass.”
“I like your everything. Except your loud mouth. Shut the fuck up.”
“You love my mouth.” Kibum flips over on his stomach and begins playing with the waistband of Woohyun's sweats, biting him slightly less than gently where his hip bone sticks out.
“Kim Kibum behave yourself.”
“Okay, sure. Behave like this?” Kibum begins sliding down the waistband of Woohyun's sweats with his teeth, his breath hot on bare skin as he laughs.
Woohyun closes his eyes for a moment, before throwing the drafts on the coffee table, “Fuck it.” With very little effort he lifts Kibum by the shoulders and flips him over onto his back, rising to straddle his chest. “Is this what you want?”
Kibum's eyes sparkle devilishly and Woohyun nearly loses his breath looking down at him like that. “This is one version, yes.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, in another version a Pegasus comes charging through the wall and steals the damn manuscripts.”
Woohyun leans down and presses a kiss to his jawline just below the ear. “I like my version better,” he whispers before making a slow crawl down the length of Kibum's body, trailing kisses that make him shiver.
As Woohyun slips his mouth over him, Kibum pulls sharply on his hair and wonders if he'll ever get back the cheerful boy from a year ago. The boy that threw himself into danger too recklessly and left bits of his heart scattered about in his wake. That boy laughed more easily and grew angry more quickly.
He learned something under Jaejoong's tutelage that Kibum feared made all the difference and sometimes made him feel as though he would slip right out of his fingers if he didn't pay close enough attention.
He learned how to protect his heart. How to guard it. How to make demands for it. How to treasure it the way he treasured the people he gave his heart recklessly to.
Too bad Kim Jaejoong never learned that lesson for himself.
fandom: kpop
characters: Kim Jaejoong, Nam Woohyun/Kim Kibum, ot7
setting: canon; sometime in the future (ignoring the fact that Jaejoong is army-bound)
word count: ~ 5,000
summary: you spent your life breaking the hearts of boys and after all this time you haven't learned to protect your own. Jaejoong takes Woohyun under his wing and teaches him to seduce the elusive Key … and looses his heart in the process
recipient: vergoldung- sorry it's so late but this fic was a fucking wrangle
“I only know how to break them, not how to keep them.”
“Come on, that's the easy part.”
Sungyeol hears a bitter laugh and the sound of ice clinking in a glass. Technically there's no alcohol allowed in the recording spaces after last time, but Kim Jaejoong is above the rules somehow. (He's the reason why there are so many rules.)
“Hyung...” Woohyun's voice is plaintive and pitying through the door. Sungyeol stiffens his spine and opens the door quickly before his friend can finish whatever his thought was.
(He saw the pair after the last fight. It was even less pretty than the brawls he sometimes picks with Woohyun.)
(Probably because he drinks a lot less and is careful not to show others how ugly his own self-deprecation can get. Some things he keeps to himself.)
“Come on lazy-ass, I'm hungry and Sunggyu says he's paying if we hurry,” Sungyeol announces to the room as he slams the door open, making as much noise as possible. He blinks down at Jaejoong sprawled on the floor with a glass in his hand and a bottle leaning against his side. “I see you're being productive.”
Jaejoong smiles lazily up at him and salutes him with his glass, “My work is never done.”
Sungyeol resists kicking him and feels his smile tighten, “So I hear,” he mutters under his breath.
The man sprawled on the floor hears him, of course, and smirks up at him before leaning his head to take a drink from his glass.
Sungyeol's eyes shift to Woohyun standing with his arms folded over his chest, leaning one shoulder into the window and staring into the distance with blind eyes. “Hyung?” Sungyeol feels his words get caught and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Ya Nam Woohyun!”
The shout didn't rattle Woohyun the way he thought it would, the older man just slowly shifted his gaze from the window pane to Sungyeol's face. There was something there that was more tired than usual.
Sungyeol squeezes his hands into fists at his sides and takes a deep breath.
He didn't like this collaboration. He was against it from the start. They sent Dongwoo into his room to appease him after a week of silent, barely-restrained sulking. The air was thick and heavy around him, he took a step toward his friend.
“Come on, let's get food in you.”
Woohyun pushes himself off the window as if he had to fight against a large pressure to free himself, to walk around.
Sungyeol pretends not to notice the way Jaejoong reached out his hand and grazed Woohyun's calf with his fingertips. Pretending not to notice that Woohyun pretended not to notice.
In the hallway Sungyeol doesn't even stoop to teasing, “You shouldn't drink so much.”
“I never drink with Jae-hyung,” Woohyun says solemnly.
Sungyeol didn't know what to say to that so he shoves his friend in the shoulder and tears off running down the hall whooping, Woohyun hot on his heels.
Maybe if they pretended to be green trainees, running after the prize and still wide-eyed with hope, then he could stop feeling like it's all about to crash down around them.
The record is a success. Even more of a success than that mishap with Kim Kibum last year, the executives say. Everyone pats him on the back and smiles at him in the hallways.
He invites Sunggyu to come with him that night to celebrate with Jaejoong and some others. Sunggyu watches him read the txt messages with a strange pit in his stomach. He doesn't really like the crowd, but Sungyeol is in Japan shooting a drama and Hoya is hidden away with his girlfriend.
They leave for a world tour in two days anyway.
What can happen in one night?
So he shrugs and gets ready. Woohyun makes him change three times before throwing a fit. Sungjong finally comes into the room and patiently dresses Sunggyu himself silently, as if Sunggyu was an unruly child.
On his way out the door Sungjong says quietly, “Take care of him.”
It's not a request.
Sunggyu doesn't want to know what will happen if he doesn't bring home a Woohyun singing to the rooftops with happiness. (Not that they've seen that Woohyun in a long time.)
And here he thought he was off the hook with Sungyeol out of town.
The club is loud and crowded, but they are ushered into a back room immediately. Everyone here appears to know Woohyun and he is greeted with smiles.
The back room is just like the front, only here Sunggyu is aware of mostly everyone's names without needing to be introduced and he's starting to feel a bit small. (It's not like he's never brushed elbows and shoulders with any of these names at an event or backstage somewhere. It's not like he hasn't met them or drunk with any of them before. But there's something about the atmosphere here, it makes him feel like that high school kid practicing in garage dreaming of being a rockstar.)
They are separated pretty early on. There's really less people than Sunggyu first assumed, but enough to keep the conversation going and the liquor never stops flowing. He keeps an eye on Woohyun, who seems to be holding up okay, sitting in a dark corner on a low couch with Jaejoong and laughing occasionally.
It's been a couple hours and the small crowd is dwindling to something much smaller, a bit more intimate, (a bit more unruly and the atmosphere seems thicker), when Kim Kibum steps through the door like a prince with a sideways smile and a hot model in attendance.
Sunggyu shakes his head, irritated as always with the way Kibum flaunts his penchant for men. Such things are dangerous - especially for idols. And there he is, letting the poor guy fawn all over him like it's perfectly normal.
“Idiot,” he mutters under his breath.
“No kidding,” a voice says beside him. Sunggyu blames the light and the noise later for not knowing who spoke, but the truth was that he was too drunk to remember in the morning. “Showing up here like this, he's just going to start trouble.”
Sunggyu looks over to Woohyun, who has leaned towards the edge of the couch and is watching Kibum intently. Sunggyu watches as Jaejoong watches Woohyun watch Key across the dark room. Watches the older man pull his bandmate down to recline on the couch and whisper in his ear. He watches their fingers intertwine subtly (he thinks blurrily of the way Woohyun's fingers will sometimes catch Sungyeol's when his arm is wrapped around his shoulder and orders another drink) as they whisper to each other.
He doesn't see Woohyun get up or Kibum disappear. He's talking to someone about his outfit and the music playing and the upcoming tour when he glances back and sees Jaejoong moodily drinking alone on the couch in the corner.
Half an hour later a disheveled Woohyun pulls him out of the club roughly and throws him into a taxi. His shirt is buttoned crookedly and his hair is standing up in strange places.
Sunggyu leers at him in the cab, poking him in the chest, “Yerrrr drunk!” He can feel himself slurring his speech, but it's alright because they have the weekend off to celebrate Woohyun's single and prepare for their Monday morning departure. It's alright because there's no schedules in the morning and he just went to a club with his right-hand man and they drank with royalty. It's alright because Woohyun is drunk.
Woohyun sets Sunggyu's hand onto his lap and plays with his fingers absent-mindedly. “No, hyung. I'm not drunk.”
“But I saw you!”
“No,” Woohyun turns his eyes towards his hyung and they are surprisingly bright and hard. “You thought you saw me drinking, hyung. But I promise I'm as sober as a priest.” Woohyun stares at him for a moment and then tips his head back into the seat to stare at the roof with a sigh.
Sunggyu falls asleep in the cab with Woohyun hand in his, cool and still.
In the morning Sungjong's disdainful face greets him stonily, “Next time I'm sending Myungsoo. At least he can hold his liquor.”
Sunggyu doesn't sarcastically suggest that Sungjong take over Woohyun-babysitting duties. (Mostly because he doesn't want to admit how badly he failed. As long as they keep talking about it as band member support and not a juggling act to keep Woohyun safe from... well, as long as they don't talk about it then he can pretend everything is fine.)
(They're all pretending a lot more these days.)
He's never been so hungover in his life.
Woohyun is neither better nor worse than usual, but Dongwoo still treats him like a breakable object. (Dongwoo treats everyone like a breakable object, it's just those special few that he wants to keep safe that he is delicate with.)
He comes home from rehearsal with Kim Jaejoong neither elated nor crushed. Just sort of pensive.
It's so different from the rollercoaster of giddy Woohyun who recorded with Kim Kibum the previous year that Dongwoo feels almost breathless.
He thinks maybe that the ToHeart-Woohyun should have been the one to take his breath away, but that Woohyun was like a child, young and fresh-faced and smiling and bouncing around the apartment. That Woohyun wasn't careful, he was honest. Full of the joy that only an innocent young man doing what he loves with his favorite person can feel. His enthusiasm brought life into their lives, even when they were all dragging from rehearsals and events and dance practice.
Now, a year later, a very different Woohyun sits at the table with them in the mornings. He's harder, sharper, than he was a year ago.
Dongwoo hears Woohyun talking behind his half-open door and so he pauses to listen for just a moment, not wanting to interrupt.
“Yes, I did it just like you said, hyung.” Woohyun's laugh is low and in his chest, Dongwoo has never heard him laugh quite like that before. Like a man who is satisfied with himself and not at all like a young boy searching for happiness with grasping hands. “Well I improvised ... no I'm not going to tell you … a gentleman would never kiss and tell … you aren't a gentleman, hyung … don't … hyung don't say things like that … how much have you had to d- … you should let me come out with you tonight, I can … schedules can wait … Jaejoong that's enough!”
“Knock-knock Woohyunnie!!!” Dongwoo flies into the room like a bat out of hell, trying to hide the fear that suddenly crept up his spine at the tone of desperation and anger that somehow made it's way out of Woohyun's beautiful mouth.
Woohyun places a finger over his lips and turns away from Dongwoo, who is bouncing on his toes as if he can't contain his news (there is no news) (he just came down for a visit) (maybe suggest ordering takeout and then watch Woohyun cook in the kitchen) (sitting on the counter and swinging his feet as Woohyun sings to himself while cooking and making ridiculous jokes) (they haven't done that in months) and he can't hear the conversation anymore, but when Woohyun hangs up and turns to him, there's a tightness to his smile.
Later, Woohyun leans against the counter next to Dongwoo and leans his head into his shoulder and asks, “Have you ever met someone and thought, God. I feel sorry for whoever falls in love with you?”
Dongwoo stills his swinging feet and leans his head onto Woohyun's for a moment, thinking of the best answer.
And then Woohyun is swinging him off the counter and they are wrestling on the couch, Dongwoo giggling madly as Woohyun tries to tickle him in that perfect spot.
He never answers Woohyun's question. The answer is, You.
But he keeps that to himself.
Dongwoo is busy in his room with one of the backup dancers and Sungyeol is in Hoya's room playing video games and Sungjong is on Skype with his family and Sunggyu told him very sternly that under no conditions was he to disturb his sleep and that's how Myungsoo ended up outside Woohyun's door with his pillow clutched to his chest.
Woohyun opened the door, his cell phone up to his ear, and inclined his head towards the bed as he walked back into the recesses of the room. Myungsoo scampered in to avoid the door slamming back in his face and jumped on the bed with pleasure. The others cycled him about during touring - everyone wanting their own room except for him. He knew it made him appear to be like a pet or something to the managers, but he didn't like sleeping in strange places all alone. And they made enough money for everyone to have a big double-wide for themselves, with their own shower and their own mini-bar. It just so happened that Myungsoo's bed was never slept in.
Myungsoo untucked the sheets from the foot of the bed and fluffed the blankets a bit before curling up on one side (the left side) one pillow at his back and another under his head and chest.
Then he looked up at Woohyun, silhouetted against the night sky, his lean body jutting through the skyline of the bright city behind him. Myungsoo sleepily noted to himself that Woohyun should always look like that - ragged tanktop clinging to his muscles and long, baggy pants cloaking his legs.
When Woohyun stepped towards the bed after a while, head bent as he listened intently to the voice on the other line, and Myungsoo inclined his head towards him like a cat, “You look like a samurai, hyung. You should ask one of the manager-hyungs to find you a kung fu movie.”
Woohyun smiled and tugged lightly on Myungsoo's hair as he brushed his fingers through it (Myungsoo couldn't see his face clearly, but there was a certain way his voice sounded when he smiled that Myungsoo knew the way he knew what Sungyeol's footfalls sound like after a day of dance rehearsal, or the particular musk that lingers on Hoya's skin after he's gone for a jog), “Samurai's don't do kung fu.”
Myungsoo was about to rebutt when Woohyun turned away again, his voice low into the phone as he walked back to the window, “No hyung, it's just Myungsoo. He wants me to do an action movie. What do you think: Nam Woohyun and Tony Jaa...”
Myungsoo watched Woohyun listen to the other end of the line for a few more minutes before nestling down further into the blankets and falling into a light doze. He woke again when Woohyun settled into the bed beside him and sighed.
“Hyung? Who was that? Who could talk more than you?”
Woohyun reached out an arm and pulled Myungsoo into his chest, settling his chin on the top of Myungsoo's head before responded, letting out a light hum before spreading the sound into words, “Lots of people talk more than I do.”
“I've just never seen you so quiet before. You always have something to say.”
“You aren't around me all the time,” Woohyun's voice was soft and low and Myungsoo wondered if the reason why his hyung was suddenly so keen to let Myungsoo smoosh up against him the way he always wants - without even waiting for him to ask - was because the sight of Myungsoo's inquisitive eyes would have been to much tonight. He wasn't sure, but he felt as though they hadn't talked much lately and that suddenly bothered him.
“You've been so busy with your collaboration with Jaejoong-hyung,” Myungsoo protested, suddenly feeling like it was his fault that he wasn't around Woohyun all the time. “And that drama I had-”
“Ya! Kim Myungsoo! We can't be trainees tripping over each other forever. We should be happy that Infinite is doing so well we can all have solo projects.”
Myungsoo chewed on his thumbnail pondering this. It was all very well and good for Infinite to succeed and everyone to be happy. But he just didn't feel as though Woohyun was as happy as he once was. “Are you happy, hyung?”
“I've never been so ecstatic,” there was no smile in Woohyun's voice that time.
Myungsoo fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of Woohyun's breath.
Sungjong is pretty sure Paris is going to be a special kind of disaster. He's not entirely sure why, just an uneasy sense of dread as their dates for Paris performances loom closer. Usually he doesn't pay too terrible much attention to the schedule because it's not like they are allowed much sight-seeing time anyway, but Paris stands out in his mind like a big, red X.
Two days before they are supposed to arrive in Paris, he hears through the grapevine that Key and Taemin will be in Paris that weekend.
He wishes there was a way to call for reinforcements.
Management gives them a few days break in Paris. It was a surprise. They gave Sunggyu an old schedule without the extra time so that it could be a real break, a real surprise. They told no one.
Woohyun spends the free time sight-seeing arm-in-arm with Key. Their pictures are in all the tabloids. Paparazzi start following them around. Management seems pretty pleased with themselves, Woohyun and Key are still a hot ticket seller even now. What a nice coincidence, they beam at the group.
Sungjong gets word that Jaejoong dragged Junsu on an impromptu trip to Quebec. He turns his phone off and bullies Myungsoo and Sungjong into touring the city with him. Their antics annoy him and they tease him for being so surly. Eventually Hoya meets them and turns the younger boys loose, but Sungjong doesn't want good-natured stoicism, he wants the kids so that there's someone to be angry at.
Kim Kibum stands backstage and watches their performance. Sungjong prays under his breath that they stay professional.
He starts laughing hysterically and has to be pulled away when Key jumps out from behind a curtain during Woohyun's solo-stage and leads him into an “impromptu” duet. Their voices sound amazing together, but all Sungjong can hear are the fangirls screams and his own laughter. (Afterwards the fan-taken photos of them leaning into each other, their mics crossing over each other, their eyes so obviously hungry for each other will send him into a coughing fit that only Hoya has no patience for.)
After the show, back in the dressing room, Sungjong grabs Woohyun's elbow and hisses, “You better fucking know what you are doing, Nam Woohyun.”
Woohyun quirks one eyebrow at him and his eyes take on a sudden darkness, “I'm about to fuck my boyfriend, Sungjong. What are you doing?”
And with that, he shrugs Sungjong's hand off fiercely and stalks away.
(Sungjong doesn't have to check his phone. He knows what he'll see.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong leaving Infinite's Paris show early.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong drunk in Paris.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong on a flight back to Switzerland.
Pictures of Kim Jaejoong on a snowy mountaintop with his bandmates.
He's seen them before.
He's just never been this close to the wreckage.)
Hotels gyms are always the same. Clean lines. Long rows of mirrors.
Empty except the occasional workaholic training for a marathon in the spare hours they afford themselves. Tablets set up on the treadmill and slowing, but never stopping, to take one of what must be the barrage of phone calls they get in the day.
Empty except tonight. When Hoya walks into the gym, a towel slung over his shoulder, he finds Woohyun on a treadmill, lightly jogging. He hops up on the machine next to Woohyun and smiles over at him, “Extra energy to burn?”
Woohyun laughs, a good, deep laugh that reaches all the way up to the crinkles in his eyes, and Hoya lets out the breath he was holding in his chest. “You know,” Woohyun says with a shrug. “A cold shower can only do so much.”
Hoya turns on his machine and chuckles. They jog silently side by side for a few minutes. Hoya always preferred to spend his gym time alone, but Woohyun seems to be the exception that proves the rule. Hoya can always depend on him to know when to be quiet and when to make light jokes and when to bring the heat.
When Hoya slows down to move to the free weights, Woohyun falls in step beside him. They have a developed a steady rhythm over the years that is hard to break.
They take turns spotting on the bench, running through the same cycles of moves that they always have. It's like a dance, Hoya thinks but doesn't say aloud. Simple, clean, predictable.
“Is Sungjong still mad about Paris?”
Hoya nearly drops a dumbbell on his foot. “Huh?” he manages to grunt out.
Woohyun drops his weights on the pile and sits on the floor, leaning against the wall, “He's just been weird ever since. And you'd be the one to know why.”
Hoya looks at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror as if that alternate Hoya will have the answer. He's a smug bastard, Hoya decides after a moment and turns his head to look down at his friend instead. “I think … we're all … just concerned … about … you.”
“Concerned?”
Fuck. This work out is ruined. The rhythm is all off and Woohyun is on the floor.
Hoya drops down beside him, wiping the sweat from his face with his towel and pushing Woohyun with his shoulder, “Everyone is always concerned for everyone. That's Infinite.”
Woohyun picks at the edge of his shorts, “I know what I'm doing.”
“Fuck. I'm sure you think you do, but juggling like this? It'd be less of a big deal if they were two nobodies, but you decided to string along Kim Jaejoong and the Almighty Key? I'm personally waiting for the ceiling to fall.”
“Stringing....?” Woohyun stares at him for a moment and then starts laughing. “Me? String along Jaejoong-hyung? It's not like that!”
“It looks like that.”
Woohyun draws in a breath, “Fuck Hoya, he helped me sort things out with Kibum.”
“Helped you?” Hoya shakes his head.
“Yeah … you know, pointers and stuff. He's a good hyung.”
“Are you sure that's all he is?”
“What else would he be?”
Woohyun texts him to meet at a small-ish club tucked away in a part of town Sungyeol has never been after filming. He doesn't even have time to go home and shower, just does what he can at the studio.
Woohyun's been happier since they got back to Seoul - since Paris … or maybe since before that. Or maybe he's not happier after all and Sungyeol has just grown accustomed to this new, quieter, softer Woohyun.
He's not nearly as fun to fight with anymore.
He's not as easy to read anymore. Like a distorted mirror where before there was a crystal clear image.
Sungyeol finds him in a booth near the DJ. He's laughing at something that Jaejoong has just said, Sungyeol presumes. There are three empty glasses on one side of the table and a full glass of something clear and glowing in Woohyun's hand. Sungyeol grabs it from him as he sits down. “Thanks, I'm parched,” he says by way of greeting.
He tips the glass to Jaejoong, whose features are momentarily distorted with a shot of possessiveness that Sungyeol has learned over time is not reserved for only Woohyun.
“Sungyeol give me back my drink.”
“My drink, you mean?” and Sungyeol downs the whole glass in one swig. It's been a long day and a long week and although he finds vodka tonic just shy of disgusting, it's a good place to start.
Only the liquid currently burning its way down his throat isn't burning. There's no alcohol in it at all, as far as he can tell.
Woohyun is giving him a look that could kill, so Sungyeol feigns a light cough and laughs, “Damn I needed that.”
Jaejoong rolls his eyes and takes a prim drink from his own glass full of something dark and smokey.
They sit and joke for a while, Sungyeol orders a real drink and tries to figure out how Woohyun has gotten the wait staff to know to bring him tonic straight again and again. After a few drinks he stops caring and starts leaning into Woohyun's shoulder a bit more, laughing a bit louder.
“If I wasn't a trusting man, I'd be very perturbed to find you here covered in men,” a voice says disdainfully from behind him. Sungyeol twists and finds Kibum smirking down at him.
“You like seeing me draped in pretty boys, admit it,” Woohyun says as he drags Kibum practically over Sungyeol's lap, wedging him between them firmly.
“I never said I didn't like it. I just said you should be thankful I'm not the jealous type.”
“You should be thanking me, actually,” Jaejoong says over the rim of his glass. “I'm the one that taught him all he knows.”
Kibum leans past Woohyun to look at Jaejoong with a cocky grin, “Is that right?”
“'S right.”
“Did you teach him that move with tongue that's kind of ---”
“No!” Sungyeol screeches and covers his ears with this hands. “For fuck's sake you promised! No dirty talk in public.”
“Don't be silly, this is all educational, isn't it hyung?” Kibum says teasingly.
Jaejoong nods solemnly, “All in the name of science... and yes, that's my move. You should really be giving me credit Woohyun.”
Sungyeol groans and puts his head on the table.
“He taught me everything I know!” Woohyun says gleefully and Sungyeol can hear him give Kibum a hard kiss on the mouth.
“Not everything,” Jaejoong mutters into his drink, signaling for the waiter with his fingers above the glass.
Sungyeol sees him the following week at a party in a club with his arm draped around the shoulders of his flavor of the week, but doesn't say hello because Woohyun is out somewhere with Key at another event and he's not in the habit of hanging around Jaejoong unless there's a reason.
He's at the bar ordering drinks for himself and a cute girl he's been admiring from afar for a while when Jaejoong appears at his elbow and gestures to the bartender.
“What was it?” Sungyeol suddenly blurts out, turning to Jaejoong with a glass in each hand, the moisture on the outside of the glass making his hands feel slippery and heavier than they actually are. “What was the thing you didn't teach him?”
Jaejoong doesn't turn to him, just stares pensively at his hands, fingers twined together as he leans his elbows on the bar.
“Whatever man, I was just curious. Sorry I asked.”
Sungyeol starts to turn away when he hears Jaejoong's voice just below the hum of the crowd, “Nothing. It was a joke.”
Sungyeol rolls his eyes and shoulders his way through the crowd, his arms raised to keep the drinks from being knocked out of his hands.
“What a dick,” he mutters to no one in particular.
Woohyun is sitting on the couch trying to decipher the song lyrics in his hands with Kibum's head in his lap and his hands... being rather distracting.
“Stop that you. I need to get these drafts back to Jaejoong-hyung early enough in the day so that he's around to get them.”
“You mean sober enough to care.”
Woohyun doesn't dignify that with a response, just swats Kibum's hand away from his face. “I'm seriously re-thinking cooking for you tonight.”
Kibum lowers his hand. “No you're not,” he says smugly. “You should know by now I see right through all your threats.”
Woohyun lowers the papers and looks down at the face smiling up at him with a sigh. “Just give me like ten more minutes, okay? And then I'll do whatever you want?”
Kibum's eyes light up and he purses his lips with thought. “Anything?!”
“Anything...” he pauses. “Within reason.”
“I can be perfectly reasonable.”
“You can be a perfect pain in the ass.”
“You like my ass.”
“I like your everything. Except your loud mouth. Shut the fuck up.”
“You love my mouth.” Kibum flips over on his stomach and begins playing with the waistband of Woohyun's sweats, biting him slightly less than gently where his hip bone sticks out.
“Kim Kibum behave yourself.”
“Okay, sure. Behave like this?” Kibum begins sliding down the waistband of Woohyun's sweats with his teeth, his breath hot on bare skin as he laughs.
Woohyun closes his eyes for a moment, before throwing the drafts on the coffee table, “Fuck it.” With very little effort he lifts Kibum by the shoulders and flips him over onto his back, rising to straddle his chest. “Is this what you want?”
Kibum's eyes sparkle devilishly and Woohyun nearly loses his breath looking down at him like that. “This is one version, yes.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, in another version a Pegasus comes charging through the wall and steals the damn manuscripts.”
Woohyun leans down and presses a kiss to his jawline just below the ear. “I like my version better,” he whispers before making a slow crawl down the length of Kibum's body, trailing kisses that make him shiver.
As Woohyun slips his mouth over him, Kibum pulls sharply on his hair and wonders if he'll ever get back the cheerful boy from a year ago. The boy that threw himself into danger too recklessly and left bits of his heart scattered about in his wake. That boy laughed more easily and grew angry more quickly.
He learned something under Jaejoong's tutelage that Kibum feared made all the difference and sometimes made him feel as though he would slip right out of his fingers if he didn't pay close enough attention.
He learned how to protect his heart. How to guard it. How to make demands for it. How to treasure it the way he treasured the people he gave his heart recklessly to.
Too bad Kim Jaejoong never learned that lesson for himself.