Keep Your Head Down [8]
Pairings: YunJaeMin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: boyxboy, mature content.
Summary: Jaejoong wants to be forgiven for leaving HoMin and they know what they want as retribution.
A/N: LOL, I don't know what I'm writing anymore.
Jaejoong stared at his reflection in the mirror, fingers tugging at his skin here and there, sighing when he found a small wrinkle, frowning at the dark circles that seemed to permanently mar the skin below his eyes. The artificial light in his bathroom made his skin look ghastly; the bb cream he applied earlier not helping much.
Everyone around him said he looked better, whatever bug that he had caught during the last few months was probably gone by now, and he was on his way to being healthy again. He could not see it though. If anything, he thought he looked aged, the long work hours and little time to rest had finally caught up with his looks, finally making him look his age, if not older. It didn’t help either that he had lost most of his muscle mass, his body resembling that of a gangly teenager now. He had stopped exercising after the lawsuit broke out. There was never time, and when he had time he was too exhausted to hit the gym, sometimes managing a light routine with the equipment he had at home. Most of the time he just skipped it altogether and collapsed on his bed, eyelids closing heavily as soon as his head touched the pillow.
And then the whole mess with Yunho and Changmin happened….
His shoulders slumped at the thought of his ex-band mates. It had been six weeks since he last saw them; six weeks since he last picked up their calls.
Yoochun and Junsu suggested a therapist. There were a lot of feelings of guilt about the lawsuit and whatever debt he felt he had with Yunho and Changmin to deal with but he declined the idea. A therapist would be too risky; he could not go about talking to strangers about such personal matters.
Instead they offered as much support as they could, providing him with much needed distractions and their unconditional affection, calling him every day to inquire about his state, to the point where it became embarrassing. He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake, he did not need to be monitored 24/7!
Not to appear ungrateful for their efforts he tried to smile more, to laugh when it was appropriate; to eat more than two bites when they invited him with their families for lunch. The show he put up was even more dramatic when he spent time with his own family. They were better off unburdened with certain problems of his.
He could not decide if he was better or worse. He was back on ground zero, back to how things were with his ex-band members. They were not talking anymore, not interacting anymore. The last batch of food he had made for the tall maknae had rotten in his fridge when he could not (would not) eat it all by himself, and since then there had not been any more Changmin-labeled Tupperware to replace the wasted food.
Not that there was a lot of food in his fridge to begin with…
And wouldn’t Yoochun and Junsu have a heart-attack if they saw him every other morning when he woke up drenched in his own sweat, soiled sheets sticking to naked skin as familiar voices and rough touches clung to the last traces of sleep-induced haze in his mind?
He stopped his prodding and gave his appearance a final once over, deeming it good enough for what little he had to work with and grabbed his keys and wallet. He took a jacket out of the coat closet and walked out of his apartment and into the cool elevator.
♦♦♦♦♦
Yunho observed attentively over the top of his book as Changmin walked around the apartment, locking himself in the bathroom for some minutes before emerging with perfectly styled hair and smelling of minty toothpaste. He was dressed to go out, dark jeans fitted snugly on his long legs paired with an expensive shirt and a stylish jacket over it.
“Where are you going?” he inquired, trying to keep his tone neutral. There was still a scab on his lip and he was not about to start an argument.
“Out, with Kyuhyun and Minho,” he replied just as neutrally.
They had been tip-toeing around each other the whole week, the memory of their fight still too raw on their minds. Changmin managed to cover the fading bruise in his eye with make-up, the color mellowing out from practically black to yellow in the span of six days, but Yunho could do nothing about his split lip. Because of their injuries their schedule had to be changed. The radio appearances were moved to that week so that their battered faces would not interfere with their work, but that meant packing the following week with tiring photo shoots in between a couple of talk shows to attend to in Japan. Just thinking about it gave Yunho a headache.
“Don’t be too late,” Yunho said finally, getting back to his book.
Changmin mumbled out an inaudible answer as he slipped on his shoes before walking through the door, closing the door behind him.
Yunho waited a good ten minutes before pulling out his cell phone, his fingers pressing a sequence of numbers he had long since memorized. He knew Changmin called Jaejoong in his own time, away from Yunho’s prying eyes. They had an unspoken agreement to avoid the topic altogether, lest it ignited another fight.
There was one ring… two rings… three, four, five, and then nothing.
”The number you’re trying to reach is either turn-“
Yunho sighed, pressing the pads of his fingers against his eyes as soon as he set down the device.
It had been going on for too long. Either Yunho or Changmin would call, but nobody would pick up. Yunho started to worry if Jaejoong had changed his number. He could not say he did not deserve such cold treatment but still, he couldn’t mend his wrongdoings if he was met with a brick wall!
He tried once more, only to hear the same dreadful, robotic voice. He threw the phone to the opposite couch in frustration, growling out his annoyance. Seconds later he stood up, grabbed his discarded phone and grabbed a jacket.
Things could not go on as they were. He needed to talk to Jaejoong, now.
♦♦♦♦♦
The music in the club was loud. The bass made the glass tables vibrate as the bodies of both men and women swayed on the dance floor, intoxicating rhythms luring them into the packed space. Lights flashed in varying patterns, distorting contours and mixing everything together until forms combined with one another and all that could be perceived was a kaleidoscope of sound and colors.
Jaejoong left the secluded V.I.P room and hit the dance floor as soon as Yoochun had blown the candles on his cake and pictures were taken. There was no point in hovering around the sugary treat; they were all too old to be messing with the meringue and each other’s faces, and there were not any fans around to please.
He danced alone, his hips swaying to a fast beat. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Junsu dancing with a girl a few meters away from him, his body gyrating effortlessly in sync to the girl’s. Jaejoong had no such fluidity, but after years of learning choreographies something was bound to stick.
There was a waiter carrying a tray filled with drinks and Jaejoong waved him over, taking a glass for himself and downing it in one gulp, placing it back on the tray before the waiter could go away. The song he had been dancing to had long since ended and a new, slower one was playing. Jaejoong closed his eyes, feeling as the alcohol spread through his system, and started swaying to the lazy beat.
In that moment he felt lighter than he had felt in weeks. Perhaps it was the alcohol swimming around in his blood, or the loud music that would not let even his own thoughts to be heard, but for a few minutes he forgot all about Yunho and Changmin and his sadness. The warm, sweaty bodies around him provided him with almost comforting company. They knew nothing about him, and so there was no concern to address, no worried eyes shot his way; but he could still feel the familiar heat coming from their limbs as they brushed against him while they moved to the same beat.
He found himself cracking a small smile that soon turned into laughter. If he could only spend the rest of his days like that, how good would it be!
Feeling adventurous, he opened his eyes, intend on finding a dance partner. He scanned the shadowy edges of the dance floor, until his eyes fell upon the bar.
The smile fell from his face. His heart might as well have stopped beating for a couple of seconds and his throat felt dry.
He could identify that profile anywhere.
It was Changmin.
Panic made his limbs move faster. Instinct took over and he found himself scurrying between people until he reached Junsu, yanking the youngest man arm until he turned around, annoyed eyes softening when they found Jaejoong’s nervous ones.
“Tell Yoochun I had to leave,” he hollered in order to be heard over the music.
Run, a voice inside him screamed. Run!
“Are you okay?” Junsu hollered back, and Jaejoong tried to arrange his expression to an exhausted one, nodding to appease Junsu’s worry.
He was out of the crowded club in twenty three long strides. It was only until the cool night breeze hit his face that he dared to breathe.
♦♦♦♦♦
There was a sudden stumbling noise that had Yunho waking up with a start. His eyes shot open only to be met with darkness, and only the beeping sound of buttons being pressed gave any indication that he was not alone.
”Incorrect code”, a mechanic voice sounded from the keypad by the door.
“Fuck!” he heard the other person say. He knew that voice.
“Jaejoong?” he called.
He heard something being dropped.
There was some fumbling before light flooded the cramped space between the elevator and Jaejoong’s locked door. Yunho squinted when the light hurt his eyes. He used the wall as support to stand, groaning when his sore bones popped. Falling asleep on the floor had not been a good idea.
Eventually his eyes adjusted to the light and he looked at the man in front of him. Jaejoong’s eyes were wide open, his hand still hovering over the light switch. He looked at the closed elevator doors and then back at his own door, before pressing a series of buttons on the keypad. The door beeped open and he scrambled to get inside.
“Jaejoong!”
Yunho grabbed Jaejoong’s arm but the latter yanked it away, successfully escaping the leader’s grasp. Momentarily stunned by Jaejoong’s actions, Yunho barely had time to put his feet through the closing gap between the door and the wall before Jaejoong could close it completely. He tried to push the door open, but Jaejoong was pushing against him from the other side.
“Let go,” a voice commanded from inside.
“Not until we talk,” Yunho argued.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Jaejoong said, still pushing at the door.
Neither was using their full force; Jaejoong did not want to hurt Yunho who had his feet still holding the door open while Yunho did not want to force his entrance like an uncivilized brute.
“Isn’t there really, Jaejoong?” Yunho tried softly.
He shifted to accommodate his weight better, only to step on something hard. Looking down he saw it was Jaejoong’s phone. He picked it up.
Jaejoong did not reply after that but after a while Yunho felt the pressure against the door disappear. Opening the door with ease he came face to face with Jaejoong. The man sighed before turning around and walking farther into the apartment. After closing the door and taking off his shoes, Yunho followed along.
Jaejoong took a seat on the large leather couch and Yunho had no other option but to follow suit, placing the phone on top of the coffee table. There were no pleasantries, no “do you want a drink?” or “Have you eaten?” Only awkward silence.
Yunho was not sitting too close to Jaejoong but he still could smell the familiar stench of alcohol in him.
“Did you drive home drunk?” he asked, feeling his temper rise.
Jaejoong shrugged. “Is that what you want to talk about?”
Yes. No.
Yunho swallowed.
“Changmin is worried about you,” Yunho said, but there was no answer from Jaejoong. He had taken his phone into his hands, thumb stroking the rubbery protective cover while he looked down at the coffee table as if there was nothing more interesting in the world than the cool glass surface before him.
“I’m worried about you, Jaejoong,” Yunho continued. “You haven’t been taking our calls.”
“Should I have?” Jaejoong replied coldly.
Yunho felt the blow go directly to his heart. He should have expected such a treatment and in a way he had, but it still hurt.
Yunho cleared his throat. “I know I totally deserve that but please hear me out. I want to patch things up with you. Changmin and I, well, we treated you like garbage. It was me mostly, since I dragged Changmin into it in the first place. And you didn’t deserve any of that, Jaejoong. I was such a bastard, I-“
Yunho took a deep breath. Jaejoong was still not looking at him and suddenly dread started to accumulate in his gut like lead, making him feel heavier and heavier. The way things looked like then he was almost sure that would be the last time he would be talking to Jaejoong.
“I don’t want to make any excuses, because there are none really, for me to be behaving like that. I’m truly sorry, Jaejoong. If I could take back the pain I’ve caused you, suffer it tenfold just so you didn’t have to, I would. Our separation was never your fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, shouldn’t have let the whole thing drag out like it did. Just don’t shut me out, please, I don’t-I c-can’t…”
He did not notice the tears spilling from his eyes until soft fingers brushed them away. When he looked at Jaejoong he saw his eyes glistening with unshed tears of his own.
“It’s not fair,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be talking to you.”
“Shouldn’t or don’t want to?” Yunho asked desperately.
Yunho found his answer in Jaejoong’s silence. He felt as his heart broke in a million pieces as soon as the eldest took his hands away from his face. Feeling fresh tears spill from his eyes he stood up, drying the stubborn moisture on his face with the back of his hand, and cleared his throat in a last act of composure.
“Then I guess this is goodbye,” he said before walking towards the door, his shoulders slumped over in defeat.
“Yunho, wait!” Jaejoong exclaimed behind him.
He halted his steps, turning around expectantly. Jaejoong was standing, his fists clenched at his sides as the emotional battle inside him painted itself on his features.
“Will you call me tomorrow?” Jaejoong asked timidly.
“Will you answer your phone?” he asked back.
Jaejoong nodded, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smile that Yunho answered with a big one of his own.
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