Obsession;; Chapter 3.
OBSESSION;; R
i'm no good at rating fics or categorizing them into genres? it's all implications rly blah blah
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twenty.
It's his time to walk around again, the time he used to look forward to while his bandmates were stuck in rehearsal hell. But Jonghyun doesn't really enjoy it lately, his steps much slower as he walks down the hall, his shoulders hunched. He reaches the end of the hall, reluctantly looking into the last room out of habit, surprised to see that she's in there with her dancers. She's crying again, so Jonghyun decides it's not right to enter, but after a minute of pacing in the hall, euphoria waves over him and he enters the room.
She looks up, wiping her tears, smiling bravely in his direction, acting like she didn't just sob her brains out.
"Jonghyun!"
She says a little too cheerfully, and Jonghyun musters up a strange frown when she comes up to him and takes him by the hand.
"Aren't you going to kick me out?"
She shakes her head, and Jonghyun looks around. All the dancers are eyeing him awkwardly, judgingly and he knows it was in poor taste and raising suspicion for him to even be there.
"No, I need you," Jonghyun's knees buckle for a second, "I need you for practice. Onew's caught up in his own, he won't be able to be here until later."
"Ummm....I can't dance."
He lifts his bum leg up for emphasis, enjoying the way her waspy bun shakes up and down every time she shakes her head in disagreement.
"It doesn't matter, all you need to do is stand while I dance around you and practice. You're just the model in place."
"Can't one of your back up dancers do it?"
He looks around the room and regrets it, the huge male ballerinas looking increasingly threatening and fed up with his random appearance. He looks down at her again, her waspy bun still as she stays still, glaring at him, mouth shut. He sucumbs to her in an instant, nodding as he looks deep and madly into her bloodshot eyes, her bottom lip still quivering. He can tell she's about to break down any second and he knows the feeling all too well, so he squeezes her hand and lets go, even though he doesn't want to.
"Where do I stand?"
She smiles warmly, fake or real, he's unable to tell, taking his hand once more and positioning him near the center of the room.
"Take it from the top!"
She screeches to one of the dancers, and before Jonghyun can ask what he's supposed to do or how he's supposed to stand, the classical music starts blaring from the speakers and he's entranced all over again by her intricate steps around him.
"This is the part where you are supposed to throw me up," she says quietly as she makes her way around him, before running away and doing a couple of complicated steps from a distance and then a complete step pattern in front of him.
The dancers are doing their own thing, the music plays and enchants, and he can tell just how consumed and dedicated to the role she is, the emotions conveyed in her expressions, her chin pointed, her eyebrows arched, her breasts heaving in and out like the last practice with the music. The dancers are doing serial complicated dance moves in pairs, and Jonghyun feels more aware of his out of body presence than ever as a cool flush splays across his face, not sure where he's supposed to look.
"and this is where you are supposed to dance with me like you are teaching me how to play golf."
He looks at her inquisitively as she glides towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders, sliding them down his arms and into his hands once more. She possessively takes them around her waist, and Jonghyun chokes back his saliva as she turns around, so they are both facing the mirrors now, and he thinks he's never seen a more perfect sight before.
She doesn't let him enjoy his picture perfect moment forever though, bending over with a devious grin.
"What-"
"It's part of the dance, relax. Act like you're teaching me golf."
He doesn't know what to so he just keeps his hands on her elbows, not even sure what playing golf entails but he likes it, likes the way she's syncing their bodies with the music, coordinating their arms together with swift motions, the way she keeps inching back and back until her ass is pressed right onto his crotch. As she locks him into the position she's aiming for, Jonghyun nearly loses his cool and posture when she perches upward, the friction against his dick turning him on in the millisecond, and he knows she can feel how hard he is with the way her arms tense against his. He debates his options, if he stays like this, wanting to back away, but knowing if he backs away the dancers will see his ever-growing problem.
He glances around the room, no one's paying attention to them, caught up in their own golf ballet sagas, or at least pretending to be so he continues to stay in place, even daring to press forward just a little, taking the lead and swaying their arms together again with the music and the steps she taught him previously. He waits for her to back out of his tease and out of his grip, but she stays still so he gazes at her reflection in the mirror, sees her eyes are closed and that she's swaying too, she's swaying with him.
He inches forward as far as he can without dry thrusting, not being able to resist it much further when the tiniest of moans spills from her mouth. His hands slide from her elbows and onto her hipbones, his eyes closing too-
"Hey, man." He feels the touch of a soft hand onto his shoulder bringing him back to reality and he whips around to see Onew standing there, looking puzzled, the music still blasting into the room, the dancers somewhat breaking out of their individual reveries.
He breaks away from Jessica, subtly trying to pull his sweater over his burdening problem, giving Onew an uneasy smile.
"I-I was just walking by and she told me to fill in for you filling in for for, for the dance." Onew squeezes his shoulder and placates him with a comforting smile and Jonghyun hates him more than ever, even more that he doesn't even acknowledge his decreasing boner. Jessica's shuffling on the side of him now, undoing her bun and redoing it again, and Jonghyun wishes he didn't see the beautiful drops of sweat forming at the nape of her neck.
"I'm sorry, hyung." he mutters.
"It's alright, it's my bad for being late. You can continue to practice with him if you want-"
'It's fine, LET'S TAKE IT FROM THE TOP PEOPLE." Jessica finishes tying her hair, walking towards the middle of the room again, deep concentration all over her face, and it's as if Jonghyun never existed. He looks at Onew sheepishly before walking in the direction of the door.
"I should go."
Onew grips his arm, that puzzled look on his face repeated. He whispers,
"I don't know what you did, but this is the first time I've seen her in rehearsal not crying. Thank you."
He doesn't know how to respond to that.
twenty-one.
Jonghyun doesn't sleep that night. Or the night after that. Instead he dreams up the situation, constantly replaying through his head what it would be like to finish the rehearsal. On the third night, Jonghyun makes sure Minho is in deep sleep before he slips a hand underneath his own covers, sighing frustratingly.
twenty-two.
"The meat is so good hyung, just what I was craving."
"Hmm? Yeah, it's great."
He sits slumped, throwing his fork around his salad medley, ignoring the pitiful chagrin Taemin displays. Taemin harumphs rather loudly, slicing his meat with his fork more pronounced, the metal clashing with the bottom of the plate, irrtiating Jonghyun and he runs a hand through his hair with bother.
"Hyung, can you cut my meat for me? It's too hard."
Taemin eyes falter when he says this, but he keeps his voice sweet. Jonghyun sets his fork down carelessly, slumping in his chair furthur, pulling his shades from his neck and putting them on.
"Come on, Taemin. You're almost a grown man. It's time for you to learn how to do things for yourself."
"Hyung, please? I wouldn't ask if you I could do it, I really want to eat it."
"Later in life, none of us are going to be around to coddle you. It's called independence."
Jonghyun regrets the harshness of his tone, but it's too late.
Taemin's darting daggers at him, cheeks burnt. Jonghyun's phone starts going off loudly, vibrating on the table and the whole cafe can hear Justin Bieber's "Oh, Baby, baby, baby!" but Jonghyun doesn't care, ignoring the call, looking at Taemin borderline apologetic.
He leans over and cuts the barbequed meat into tender little portions, sits back and waits for Taemin to eat it, but he just pushes the plate towards Jonghyun, unmoved.
twenty-three.
It's far more technical than what they practiced but he's jealous all the same, even with the rehearsed and practicality feel of the songs and dancing. Minho's hand is placed on his chin, getting deeply involved into the complexity of the play and Onew's beaming on his right, mouthing all the correct words on his lips.
He can't get over how she glows on stage, absolutely radiant, suceeding in hitting every note and every step just like she did in the rehearsals he had watched. He wriggles in his seat every time Taecyeon breathes near her, whether it be to recite a line or to mock a kiss from a specific staged angle. And every time he sees the great stature of Taecyeon lay a finger on Jessica's smooth, electric skin, Jonghyun feels the tingles from his seat, clutching on to his arms hold without fail, the jolts keeping on edge and alert throughout the whole play.
When it finally finishes and their characters hop through the clouds to live hapilly ever after and the cast bows, he's not anymore appeased, his skin still agitated, his eyes still narrowed in dismay.
twenty-four.
He tousles Krystal's hair while she snaps her fingers in his face, Minho lurking over them like a bodyguard. Onew's off on the other side of the room gallanting with Taecyeon and Jessica's father, putting those charming skills to good use. Jonghyun tugs on Krystal's hair a little more for fun but when she lets out multiple, blood-curling,
"OPPA! OPPA!!! OPPPPPPPPPPAAAA!!!!"'s,
enough for the entire posse of people congratulating the musical backstage to side-eye them entirely and for Minho to back away from them by two steps, Jonghyun pulls his hand back and shove them into his pockets.
Jessica finally reemerges into eyesight, holding multiple bouquets, on the verge of toppling over with them. People are congratulating her all over the place and Jonghyun knows he won't get a word in edge wise, so he stands in place, bemused temporarily by Krystal's failing advances on Minho and Minho not knowing how to react. Jonghyun gives him a little shove, watching the two kids blush and flush and crush and it's so random and out of place, he loves it - but it makes him entirely non-existent when they poke and flirt, and there's no one to conversate with, so he subtly leaves the room, settling on the make-up room next door.
He sits at Jessica's table, taking a harsh glance at his appearance in the mirror, the strict lights dwelling the stress on his face, the fatigue in his eyes, the wrinkles forming on his forehead, the yearning in the lines.
It's not long before someone enters the room and Jessica's standing behind him, looking down at his aged reflection. It's not as picture perfect as the last time.
"Congratulations,"
He gets up, handing her a little trinket from his pocket. She puts down the assortment of flowers, raising an eyebrow curiously, opening it. There's a slight gasp as the necklace falls out. It's a skinny chain, silver, simpler than necessary with the tiniest of a ballet shoe charm, the initials JJ engraved on the back. She fingers the miniscule framework with the back of her thumb, quiet.
"It's a ballet shoe to commemorate you on this musical," he says as if that needs explanation. "And JJ for your name. Or for, you know. Our names together." he adds cheekily.
She doesn't seem to mind, turning around and handing him the necklace back, so he obliges, clasping it around her neck, gently and softly pulling her hair away, the electric waves returning when his fingers accidentally brush across her skin.
"You were beautiful out there, you know. Your'e always beautiful." he whispers it so cautiously, the words barely make a disturbance in the air, but she turns all the same, eyes lined with wetness.
"I'm not dating him. I never was."
Her voice sounds creamy and darling and nervous.
"I-I think I'm in love with you. I think I'm still in love with you-"
he mutters under his breath and she's stumbling when the door opens, Onew, Krystal and Minho all barging in, ecstatic and looking relieved.
"Oh, thank god you are here unni, if I had to listen to one of your old sunbaes say another long freaking speech. Ugh. Kill me now."
Krystal ignores the tension in the room cutting over to Jessica, clinging on to her sister, sorely oblivious. Minho and Onew peer at Jonghyun more cautious, but decide to play it off, taking chairs (Minho sitting close to Krystal, he notes) and Onew grins, taking a huge bottle of whiskey out of his jacket.
"So who wants to play?"
twenty-five.
"Hyung, your phone is ringing."
"Hyung."
.....
"Hyung!"
"Hmm?" Jonghyun looks up from his desk, beyond the sea of crumpled papers surrounding him to look at Minho, his demeanor more Keroro like than ever.
"Your phone, hyung. Your phone."
He finally picks up on the buzzing at the edge of the table, but continues to jot the lyrics coming to his mind in the remainder of a chewed up notebook.
"I'll get it later."
His chair whirls around, quick and harsh, and Minho's bent over him, eyebrows narrowed and thick.
"Hyung, what's up with you."
"I just need to finish this song, it's killing me."
Minho peers over at the table, past the crumpled sheets and to the legible ones. Jonghyun hopes he's satisfied, and Minho seems a little less worried as he retracts back, sitting near on Jonghyun's bed.
"Taemin told me what happened the other day you know. He's concerned about you."
Jonghyun holds back a laugh. Since when does Minho sound so scared to talk to him, so hesitant. He's so sick of everyone being cautious arond him, on pins and needles and blades.
"Why?"
"You know why. You've been acting so weird, you're easily irritable, you barely sleep. All you seem to do is work out or be on edge about something."
Jonghyun puts down his pen for a second, sneering at Minho, crumpling the paper in hand.
"Yeah? Well, Taemin needs to learn how to mind his own business and not come running to you every time someone doesn't treat him like a princess. He's not five anymore."
Jonghyun's laughing now, despite the fact that Minho's got him in a choke-hold, pressed up against the wall, nose inflamed. All those muscles being put to poor use on useless Jonghyun, who thinks he's never seen a more fitting caveman.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch about your boyfriend, Minho-yah-"
"Don't act like a sadistic fuckface to everyone around you just because you're not with the girl you want. It was your choice."
Jonghyun fights against Minho's hold now, but he has him in a pretty tight lock, both of their skins inflaming, forearm veins splitting. It's a game now, tormenting each other who can last longer.
"You don't know what you are talking about."
"And you don't know how to own up to your regret. Instead of telling Taemin to man up, maybe you should man up first, she deserves better than that. They both do."
Minho slacks his arm back, stepping away before shoving a harsh fist into Jonghyun's chest.
"And I won't be as forgiving the next time you don't treat Taemin kindly. He's just a kid."
Minho slams the door shut, some crumples of paper falling to the floor. Jonghyun winces, hand on the jab Minho had left in his gut.
twenty-six.
They sit on the piano bench, wordless with the occassional giggle when their fingers overlap on the wrong key. They don't play anything special, just strumming random keys, shoulder to shoulder, and he's never felt more nervous.
He can't tell if this is real, is it? But he knows it is by the way he goes numb when he catches a glimpse of her little teeth, the way his toes curl in rememberance when her toes accidentally sweep against his.
"This is weird, you know."
"What is?"
She points at him, then herself, then around the room, eyes open.
"This feels normal."
He guesses she agrees, when quiet fills in the room, an easy comfort taking over as they continue to play. She hits one key repeatedly minutes later, maybe registering something in her mind when her face lights up strange.
"I remember that one time, when I found you in this room. And you were bawling your eyes out-" Jonghyun fights back a laugh, "it was after your guys' first win, do you remember? And I asked you if you were okay, and in between your horrible sobs you managed to tell me that you were trying to compose a song to remember how you felt."
Jonghyun watches her as she talks, words light and wispy recalling the things she's painting vividly into his head.
"And I asked you why you looked so miserable when you should be so happy and you said-you said that that was the happiest you've ever been and that's why it was so saddening. Because it wasn't about love, and only love should make you feel that happy. And when I told you that you were in love, you were in love with music and you didn't even realize it, did you stop sobbing and look at me and smile."
She's looking down and grinning, and his heart leaps a beat.
"That's the first time I saw you, Jonghyun."
He cups her chin now, breathing fast, heart pulsing.
"The thing is, I was wrong back then. I've never been in love with something more than now."
"Don't say things like that." She removes his hand from her chin, but it doesn't discourage him, and he places his hands on her lap.
"It's the truth, I've been in love with you this whole time. I can't stop thinking about you, my mind is consumed with thoughts about you when I wake up to when I fall asleep."
"No."
"I know you're dating him, I've seen the way you look at him."
"Stop it, Jonghyun."
"I've seen the way you giggle, the way you dress when he's around, the way you do your hair. And you've lost weight-so much weight, when you shouldn't. It's all for him, isn't it?"
"Just stop it!"
"I can't, that's the thing." He leans towards her, face pained and veins popping in his neck. "I wish I wasn't, believe me I've done everything to pretend I'm not, but I can't help it. It's driving me crazy."
"Please, stop." She shuts her eyes now, and he squeezes her thighs, ignoring the jolts circulating through his body.
"I'm obsessed with you. It's making me go crazy."
"You're not allowed to be in love with me."
Her voice breaks and it's all he needs to lean in at last, stomach shaking when he feels her tender lips upon his, soft and plush. It's short and sweet, but so significant, Jessica gets up from the bench, running towards the door.
"Don't do this to me, Jonghyun don't. You can't mess with my head like this."
"You don't understand how I feel-"
"No, you don't understand how I FEEL. You're killing me inside, just stop." The tears are streaming down her face now, dimples in her chin formulating. "You belong to someone else, you choose someone else. You'll never be mine."
She walks out, only leaving Jonghyun with the empty piano and remnants of her tears behind.
twenty-seven.
Jonghyun kicks his feet back and forth underneath the table, munching on his favorite brand of cereal, grateful that Key didn't finish the last of the milk and that is no one is awake to battle him for the cereal box to read. He reads the hangul nice and slowly, chomping every bite with a sentence.
Taemin comes in, hair in a frenzy, eyes heavily lidded, mouth forming a slight pout at the mere sight of Jonghyun at the table. He offers an apologetic hum, and Taemin reluctantly takes it, sitting across, not bothering to say a word.
Jonghyun pulls something from underneath the table, sliding it over not breaking the silence, and Taemin's face turns to explicit bliss within a moment.
'Best of Michael Jackson, The Encore Edition DVD.'
He doesn't say thank you, but it's all Jonghyun needs when Taemin leaves and squeals excitedly and runs to the living room to play it on the big screen.
twenty-eight.
He's cold, goosebumps consuming the entirety of his body, cold sweat pulsating down his neck and at the chill of his forehead. But he sits there, heater cranked, watching, waiting, for anything, any sign. The lights are still off, never ending, never changing and it's a pointless mission, he knows. He knows its crazy, just to sit there, and wait, maddening, and the tip of his mental iceberg.
He checks the time on his phone, 1:13 A.M. He looks back at the twenty-third floor of the building, expecting the lights to have turned on the second he turned away. It never does.
twenty-nine.
He sits in his car the next night, packed in sweaters, alcohol or water besides, he wasn't sure. He checks the street today, but what kind of madman would walk around in this kind of drizzle?
thirty.
He's parked in his favorite place, right outside, waiting for any kind of sound or light to emerge across the street. Besides the occassional car whizzing by there's nothing, but he's dedicated so he waits and waits and waits again, just like the night before and before and before.
He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. What was he doing? He's not sure what he's going to see or expects to see, but he's always waiting for something it feels like, something eating him to the core of his stomach, something physically affecting him every time he tries to eat. His food never settles in his stomach anymore and he's visibly weak, cheeks sunken in, but he can't stop waiting, so he just sits there, driving off when no one cares, excited for his schedules to finish just so he can sit in his car and wait for nothing.
It seems like days pass by.
THACK THACK THACK.
The bold rasps on his window make Jonghyun leap his in his seat, bile daring to spill out of him. It's Minho, drenched in rain, face grave and dark and he won't stop pounding on the window until Jonghyun unlocks the doors and he scrambles in on the passenger side, hunching over, shivering and fisting Jonghyun's coat into his hands.
"FUCK!"
"Minho, how-"
"Hyung, why?" Jonghyun's scared, not because Minho's voice is commanding and threatening but because the younger boy is looking at him with utter confusion and heartbreak and for a second Jonghyun thinks Minho just might be in love with him. He feels rough hands being placed on his cheeks, cold, wet and meaningful.
"Hyung, you've got to stop this. This is wrong. It's so wrong."
Jonghyun looks down, shaking from Minho's cold affection, his own hand clutching on the weakness of his stomach.
"How did you find me?"
"When you wouldn't return home after schedules - we all kept getting worried. So I followed you last night, waiting in the car port, taking a taxi behind. Hyung, please-" Minho's voice is broken now, hoarse and anxious. "Please, just leave her alone."
"I think she's dating him, I just feel it."
"And what do you think you're expecting to find by waiting here every night? Him walking back to the dorms with the rest of the girls and their manager for an acceptable fuck? Do you realize what the fans would say if they saw you parked out here, stalking? It would kill our damage, tarnish their reputation, yours! This isn't right, you know that, right hyung? Right?"
"I know." he whimpers. "I feel sick."
"Because it's unhealthy. Please hyung. I'm worried about you, we all are. The others - the others don't know it's about...I didn't tell them. But I need you to take me home, and promise you will never return here." Pause. "Like this. Promise me."
Jonghyun nods rapidly, reassuring Minho by taking his hands into his own, gripping them with slight comfort, frightened at the aspect of a harsh scolding Minho is going to unleash. It never does though, and they drive home in silence, his right hand in the firm grip of Minho's the whole way back.
thirty-one.
There's an unspoken vow to never speak of this again, to pretend that he wasn't this crazy, to pretend that this was just a quick love pained phase, so Minho makes him coffee the next morning, never leaving his side, not leaving him even when he needs to use the bathroom, keeping track of the time waiting outside. Minho stays like this for a week, until his demanding schedules start to be in harm's way and the manager takes note of the duo's strange behavior. When Minho finally decides that the eye bags underneath Jonghyun's puffed face look decent sized again, makes sure he's bathing dutifully and only composes his song at timely hours does Jonghyun see him subtly telling Onew to keep watch when he leaves and never return from his dueling idol schedules.
thirty-two.
When he's finally able to break free from Minho's grasp, with the hundred percent confirmation he won't harass Jessica in any shape or form, Jonghyun is finally able to leave the dorm, unprotected and under the guise of his favorite slouchy hat and sunglasses just like he used to. He heads down the familiar path, eager to make things right, the biting winter air filling his cheeks, soft smoke blowing out of him every time he exhales. It's the first time in a while he's felt normal, felt good, and he likes the way the broken ice crunches under his boots with each step.
thirty-three.
It doesn't take him long before his thrusts are erratic, breath jilted and he doesn't feel like making it last so he runs a lazy hand through her sweaty hair, kneeling down, energy slacking.
"I'm going to come, I think I'm going to come now,"
he says in one quick breath, legs throbbing in pain. She's grunting underneath him, squirming and nodding.
"Say my name this time, Jonghyun, say my name."
He mouths the word, 'YES, ' fevered, nuzzling his face into her neck out of habit, panting and shaking with his last violent thrust in the air,
"Jessica, Jessi, Sica, Sica-"
He realizes his mistake a little too late, the remainder of his come spilling on to the sheets when Sekyung abruptly pushes him away, forcing him to slide out.
thirty-four.
It doesn't help him that Onew is the one who's always around him now, double checking him and his phone every time it buzzes. His mind grows wary, wondering what Minho told Onew, but Onew never raises suspcion besides texting away on his own phone.
Jonghyun finally gets over his fear of watching-over-me-angel-Onew, checking his phone in the van when they are resting at a stop.
"I'm sorry I was an asshole, baby. Forgive me? XOXO."
He abides his time by filtering the radio channels, nothing pleasing his picky ears. She never responds.
thirty-five.
Minho slides into the seat next to him, hand casually on Jonghyun's forearm, hairs prickling any time Jonghyun flashes a glance around the airplane, leering constantly, ever so froglike.
"Relax, stupid. It's not like I'm going to jump over to her seat and kidnap her to join the mile high club."
Still leering.
"Besides, she's with her sister, it'd be rude for me to interrupt them."
He takes out the newspaper folded in the seat pocket in front. He opens it, bothers to pretend and be invested despite the fact it's in Thai.
"That wouldn't have you stopped you in the past."
But Minho finally lets go of him, leering outside the window and beyond the blue sky. Jonghyun glances around again, fidgeting a little when his eyes fall upon her, a couple of rows above, skinny arm dangling from the aisle, Krystal's arm retracting her sisters and Jonghyun becomes entranced, his heart palpating throughout the whole flight whenever he catches a glimpse of the arm falling again.
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last part up soon omg swear on my soul i will nvr try to write chaptered fics again this is murder lol
i'm no good at rating fics or categorizing them into genres? it's all implications rly blah blah
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twenty.
It's his time to walk around again, the time he used to look forward to while his bandmates were stuck in rehearsal hell. But Jonghyun doesn't really enjoy it lately, his steps much slower as he walks down the hall, his shoulders hunched. He reaches the end of the hall, reluctantly looking into the last room out of habit, surprised to see that she's in there with her dancers. She's crying again, so Jonghyun decides it's not right to enter, but after a minute of pacing in the hall, euphoria waves over him and he enters the room.
She looks up, wiping her tears, smiling bravely in his direction, acting like she didn't just sob her brains out.
"Jonghyun!"
She says a little too cheerfully, and Jonghyun musters up a strange frown when she comes up to him and takes him by the hand.
"Aren't you going to kick me out?"
She shakes her head, and Jonghyun looks around. All the dancers are eyeing him awkwardly, judgingly and he knows it was in poor taste and raising suspicion for him to even be there.
"No, I need you," Jonghyun's knees buckle for a second, "I need you for practice. Onew's caught up in his own, he won't be able to be here until later."
"Ummm....I can't dance."
He lifts his bum leg up for emphasis, enjoying the way her waspy bun shakes up and down every time she shakes her head in disagreement.
"It doesn't matter, all you need to do is stand while I dance around you and practice. You're just the model in place."
"Can't one of your back up dancers do it?"
He looks around the room and regrets it, the huge male ballerinas looking increasingly threatening and fed up with his random appearance. He looks down at her again, her waspy bun still as she stays still, glaring at him, mouth shut. He sucumbs to her in an instant, nodding as he looks deep and madly into her bloodshot eyes, her bottom lip still quivering. He can tell she's about to break down any second and he knows the feeling all too well, so he squeezes her hand and lets go, even though he doesn't want to.
"Where do I stand?"
She smiles warmly, fake or real, he's unable to tell, taking his hand once more and positioning him near the center of the room.
"Take it from the top!"
She screeches to one of the dancers, and before Jonghyun can ask what he's supposed to do or how he's supposed to stand, the classical music starts blaring from the speakers and he's entranced all over again by her intricate steps around him.
"This is the part where you are supposed to throw me up," she says quietly as she makes her way around him, before running away and doing a couple of complicated steps from a distance and then a complete step pattern in front of him.
The dancers are doing their own thing, the music plays and enchants, and he can tell just how consumed and dedicated to the role she is, the emotions conveyed in her expressions, her chin pointed, her eyebrows arched, her breasts heaving in and out like the last practice with the music. The dancers are doing serial complicated dance moves in pairs, and Jonghyun feels more aware of his out of body presence than ever as a cool flush splays across his face, not sure where he's supposed to look.
"and this is where you are supposed to dance with me like you are teaching me how to play golf."
He looks at her inquisitively as she glides towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders, sliding them down his arms and into his hands once more. She possessively takes them around her waist, and Jonghyun chokes back his saliva as she turns around, so they are both facing the mirrors now, and he thinks he's never seen a more perfect sight before.
She doesn't let him enjoy his picture perfect moment forever though, bending over with a devious grin.
"What-"
"It's part of the dance, relax. Act like you're teaching me golf."
He doesn't know what to so he just keeps his hands on her elbows, not even sure what playing golf entails but he likes it, likes the way she's syncing their bodies with the music, coordinating their arms together with swift motions, the way she keeps inching back and back until her ass is pressed right onto his crotch. As she locks him into the position she's aiming for, Jonghyun nearly loses his cool and posture when she perches upward, the friction against his dick turning him on in the millisecond, and he knows she can feel how hard he is with the way her arms tense against his. He debates his options, if he stays like this, wanting to back away, but knowing if he backs away the dancers will see his ever-growing problem.
He glances around the room, no one's paying attention to them, caught up in their own golf ballet sagas, or at least pretending to be so he continues to stay in place, even daring to press forward just a little, taking the lead and swaying their arms together again with the music and the steps she taught him previously. He waits for her to back out of his tease and out of his grip, but she stays still so he gazes at her reflection in the mirror, sees her eyes are closed and that she's swaying too, she's swaying with him.
He inches forward as far as he can without dry thrusting, not being able to resist it much further when the tiniest of moans spills from her mouth. His hands slide from her elbows and onto her hipbones, his eyes closing too-
"Hey, man." He feels the touch of a soft hand onto his shoulder bringing him back to reality and he whips around to see Onew standing there, looking puzzled, the music still blasting into the room, the dancers somewhat breaking out of their individual reveries.
He breaks away from Jessica, subtly trying to pull his sweater over his burdening problem, giving Onew an uneasy smile.
"I-I was just walking by and she told me to fill in for you filling in for for, for the dance." Onew squeezes his shoulder and placates him with a comforting smile and Jonghyun hates him more than ever, even more that he doesn't even acknowledge his decreasing boner. Jessica's shuffling on the side of him now, undoing her bun and redoing it again, and Jonghyun wishes he didn't see the beautiful drops of sweat forming at the nape of her neck.
"I'm sorry, hyung." he mutters.
"It's alright, it's my bad for being late. You can continue to practice with him if you want-"
'It's fine, LET'S TAKE IT FROM THE TOP PEOPLE." Jessica finishes tying her hair, walking towards the middle of the room again, deep concentration all over her face, and it's as if Jonghyun never existed. He looks at Onew sheepishly before walking in the direction of the door.
"I should go."
Onew grips his arm, that puzzled look on his face repeated. He whispers,
"I don't know what you did, but this is the first time I've seen her in rehearsal not crying. Thank you."
He doesn't know how to respond to that.
twenty-one.
Jonghyun doesn't sleep that night. Or the night after that. Instead he dreams up the situation, constantly replaying through his head what it would be like to finish the rehearsal. On the third night, Jonghyun makes sure Minho is in deep sleep before he slips a hand underneath his own covers, sighing frustratingly.
twenty-two.
"The meat is so good hyung, just what I was craving."
"Hmm? Yeah, it's great."
He sits slumped, throwing his fork around his salad medley, ignoring the pitiful chagrin Taemin displays. Taemin harumphs rather loudly, slicing his meat with his fork more pronounced, the metal clashing with the bottom of the plate, irrtiating Jonghyun and he runs a hand through his hair with bother.
"Hyung, can you cut my meat for me? It's too hard."
Taemin eyes falter when he says this, but he keeps his voice sweet. Jonghyun sets his fork down carelessly, slumping in his chair furthur, pulling his shades from his neck and putting them on.
"Come on, Taemin. You're almost a grown man. It's time for you to learn how to do things for yourself."
"Hyung, please? I wouldn't ask if you I could do it, I really want to eat it."
"Later in life, none of us are going to be around to coddle you. It's called independence."
Jonghyun regrets the harshness of his tone, but it's too late.
Taemin's darting daggers at him, cheeks burnt. Jonghyun's phone starts going off loudly, vibrating on the table and the whole cafe can hear Justin Bieber's "Oh, Baby, baby, baby!" but Jonghyun doesn't care, ignoring the call, looking at Taemin borderline apologetic.
He leans over and cuts the barbequed meat into tender little portions, sits back and waits for Taemin to eat it, but he just pushes the plate towards Jonghyun, unmoved.
twenty-three.
It's far more technical than what they practiced but he's jealous all the same, even with the rehearsed and practicality feel of the songs and dancing. Minho's hand is placed on his chin, getting deeply involved into the complexity of the play and Onew's beaming on his right, mouthing all the correct words on his lips.
He can't get over how she glows on stage, absolutely radiant, suceeding in hitting every note and every step just like she did in the rehearsals he had watched. He wriggles in his seat every time Taecyeon breathes near her, whether it be to recite a line or to mock a kiss from a specific staged angle. And every time he sees the great stature of Taecyeon lay a finger on Jessica's smooth, electric skin, Jonghyun feels the tingles from his seat, clutching on to his arms hold without fail, the jolts keeping on edge and alert throughout the whole play.
When it finally finishes and their characters hop through the clouds to live hapilly ever after and the cast bows, he's not anymore appeased, his skin still agitated, his eyes still narrowed in dismay.
twenty-four.
He tousles Krystal's hair while she snaps her fingers in his face, Minho lurking over them like a bodyguard. Onew's off on the other side of the room gallanting with Taecyeon and Jessica's father, putting those charming skills to good use. Jonghyun tugs on Krystal's hair a little more for fun but when she lets out multiple, blood-curling,
"OPPA! OPPA!!! OPPPPPPPPPPAAAA!!!!"'s,
enough for the entire posse of people congratulating the musical backstage to side-eye them entirely and for Minho to back away from them by two steps, Jonghyun pulls his hand back and shove them into his pockets.
Jessica finally reemerges into eyesight, holding multiple bouquets, on the verge of toppling over with them. People are congratulating her all over the place and Jonghyun knows he won't get a word in edge wise, so he stands in place, bemused temporarily by Krystal's failing advances on Minho and Minho not knowing how to react. Jonghyun gives him a little shove, watching the two kids blush and flush and crush and it's so random and out of place, he loves it - but it makes him entirely non-existent when they poke and flirt, and there's no one to conversate with, so he subtly leaves the room, settling on the make-up room next door.
He sits at Jessica's table, taking a harsh glance at his appearance in the mirror, the strict lights dwelling the stress on his face, the fatigue in his eyes, the wrinkles forming on his forehead, the yearning in the lines.
It's not long before someone enters the room and Jessica's standing behind him, looking down at his aged reflection. It's not as picture perfect as the last time.
"Congratulations,"
He gets up, handing her a little trinket from his pocket. She puts down the assortment of flowers, raising an eyebrow curiously, opening it. There's a slight gasp as the necklace falls out. It's a skinny chain, silver, simpler than necessary with the tiniest of a ballet shoe charm, the initials JJ engraved on the back. She fingers the miniscule framework with the back of her thumb, quiet.
"It's a ballet shoe to commemorate you on this musical," he says as if that needs explanation. "And JJ for your name. Or for, you know. Our names together." he adds cheekily.
She doesn't seem to mind, turning around and handing him the necklace back, so he obliges, clasping it around her neck, gently and softly pulling her hair away, the electric waves returning when his fingers accidentally brush across her skin.
"You were beautiful out there, you know. Your'e always beautiful." he whispers it so cautiously, the words barely make a disturbance in the air, but she turns all the same, eyes lined with wetness.
"I'm not dating him. I never was."
Her voice sounds creamy and darling and nervous.
"I-I think I'm in love with you. I think I'm still in love with you-"
he mutters under his breath and she's stumbling when the door opens, Onew, Krystal and Minho all barging in, ecstatic and looking relieved.
"Oh, thank god you are here unni, if I had to listen to one of your old sunbaes say another long freaking speech. Ugh. Kill me now."
Krystal ignores the tension in the room cutting over to Jessica, clinging on to her sister, sorely oblivious. Minho and Onew peer at Jonghyun more cautious, but decide to play it off, taking chairs (Minho sitting close to Krystal, he notes) and Onew grins, taking a huge bottle of whiskey out of his jacket.
"So who wants to play?"
twenty-five.
"Hyung, your phone is ringing."
"Hyung."
.....
"Hyung!"
"Hmm?" Jonghyun looks up from his desk, beyond the sea of crumpled papers surrounding him to look at Minho, his demeanor more Keroro like than ever.
"Your phone, hyung. Your phone."
He finally picks up on the buzzing at the edge of the table, but continues to jot the lyrics coming to his mind in the remainder of a chewed up notebook.
"I'll get it later."
His chair whirls around, quick and harsh, and Minho's bent over him, eyebrows narrowed and thick.
"Hyung, what's up with you."
"I just need to finish this song, it's killing me."
Minho peers over at the table, past the crumpled sheets and to the legible ones. Jonghyun hopes he's satisfied, and Minho seems a little less worried as he retracts back, sitting near on Jonghyun's bed.
"Taemin told me what happened the other day you know. He's concerned about you."
Jonghyun holds back a laugh. Since when does Minho sound so scared to talk to him, so hesitant. He's so sick of everyone being cautious arond him, on pins and needles and blades.
"Why?"
"You know why. You've been acting so weird, you're easily irritable, you barely sleep. All you seem to do is work out or be on edge about something."
Jonghyun puts down his pen for a second, sneering at Minho, crumpling the paper in hand.
"Yeah? Well, Taemin needs to learn how to mind his own business and not come running to you every time someone doesn't treat him like a princess. He's not five anymore."
Jonghyun's laughing now, despite the fact that Minho's got him in a choke-hold, pressed up against the wall, nose inflamed. All those muscles being put to poor use on useless Jonghyun, who thinks he's never seen a more fitting caveman.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch about your boyfriend, Minho-yah-"
"Don't act like a sadistic fuckface to everyone around you just because you're not with the girl you want. It was your choice."
Jonghyun fights against Minho's hold now, but he has him in a pretty tight lock, both of their skins inflaming, forearm veins splitting. It's a game now, tormenting each other who can last longer.
"You don't know what you are talking about."
"And you don't know how to own up to your regret. Instead of telling Taemin to man up, maybe you should man up first, she deserves better than that. They both do."
Minho slacks his arm back, stepping away before shoving a harsh fist into Jonghyun's chest.
"And I won't be as forgiving the next time you don't treat Taemin kindly. He's just a kid."
Minho slams the door shut, some crumples of paper falling to the floor. Jonghyun winces, hand on the jab Minho had left in his gut.
twenty-six.
They sit on the piano bench, wordless with the occassional giggle when their fingers overlap on the wrong key. They don't play anything special, just strumming random keys, shoulder to shoulder, and he's never felt more nervous.
He can't tell if this is real, is it? But he knows it is by the way he goes numb when he catches a glimpse of her little teeth, the way his toes curl in rememberance when her toes accidentally sweep against his.
"This is weird, you know."
"What is?"
She points at him, then herself, then around the room, eyes open.
"This feels normal."
He guesses she agrees, when quiet fills in the room, an easy comfort taking over as they continue to play. She hits one key repeatedly minutes later, maybe registering something in her mind when her face lights up strange.
"I remember that one time, when I found you in this room. And you were bawling your eyes out-" Jonghyun fights back a laugh, "it was after your guys' first win, do you remember? And I asked you if you were okay, and in between your horrible sobs you managed to tell me that you were trying to compose a song to remember how you felt."
Jonghyun watches her as she talks, words light and wispy recalling the things she's painting vividly into his head.
"And I asked you why you looked so miserable when you should be so happy and you said-you said that that was the happiest you've ever been and that's why it was so saddening. Because it wasn't about love, and only love should make you feel that happy. And when I told you that you were in love, you were in love with music and you didn't even realize it, did you stop sobbing and look at me and smile."
She's looking down and grinning, and his heart leaps a beat.
"That's the first time I saw you, Jonghyun."
He cups her chin now, breathing fast, heart pulsing.
"The thing is, I was wrong back then. I've never been in love with something more than now."
"Don't say things like that." She removes his hand from her chin, but it doesn't discourage him, and he places his hands on her lap.
"It's the truth, I've been in love with you this whole time. I can't stop thinking about you, my mind is consumed with thoughts about you when I wake up to when I fall asleep."
"No."
"I know you're dating him, I've seen the way you look at him."
"Stop it, Jonghyun."
"I've seen the way you giggle, the way you dress when he's around, the way you do your hair. And you've lost weight-so much weight, when you shouldn't. It's all for him, isn't it?"
"Just stop it!"
"I can't, that's the thing." He leans towards her, face pained and veins popping in his neck. "I wish I wasn't, believe me I've done everything to pretend I'm not, but I can't help it. It's driving me crazy."
"Please, stop." She shuts her eyes now, and he squeezes her thighs, ignoring the jolts circulating through his body.
"I'm obsessed with you. It's making me go crazy."
"You're not allowed to be in love with me."
Her voice breaks and it's all he needs to lean in at last, stomach shaking when he feels her tender lips upon his, soft and plush. It's short and sweet, but so significant, Jessica gets up from the bench, running towards the door.
"Don't do this to me, Jonghyun don't. You can't mess with my head like this."
"You don't understand how I feel-"
"No, you don't understand how I FEEL. You're killing me inside, just stop." The tears are streaming down her face now, dimples in her chin formulating. "You belong to someone else, you choose someone else. You'll never be mine."
She walks out, only leaving Jonghyun with the empty piano and remnants of her tears behind.
twenty-seven.
Jonghyun kicks his feet back and forth underneath the table, munching on his favorite brand of cereal, grateful that Key didn't finish the last of the milk and that is no one is awake to battle him for the cereal box to read. He reads the hangul nice and slowly, chomping every bite with a sentence.
Taemin comes in, hair in a frenzy, eyes heavily lidded, mouth forming a slight pout at the mere sight of Jonghyun at the table. He offers an apologetic hum, and Taemin reluctantly takes it, sitting across, not bothering to say a word.
Jonghyun pulls something from underneath the table, sliding it over not breaking the silence, and Taemin's face turns to explicit bliss within a moment.
'Best of Michael Jackson, The Encore Edition DVD.'
He doesn't say thank you, but it's all Jonghyun needs when Taemin leaves and squeals excitedly and runs to the living room to play it on the big screen.
twenty-eight.
He's cold, goosebumps consuming the entirety of his body, cold sweat pulsating down his neck and at the chill of his forehead. But he sits there, heater cranked, watching, waiting, for anything, any sign. The lights are still off, never ending, never changing and it's a pointless mission, he knows. He knows its crazy, just to sit there, and wait, maddening, and the tip of his mental iceberg.
He checks the time on his phone, 1:13 A.M. He looks back at the twenty-third floor of the building, expecting the lights to have turned on the second he turned away. It never does.
twenty-nine.
He sits in his car the next night, packed in sweaters, alcohol or water besides, he wasn't sure. He checks the street today, but what kind of madman would walk around in this kind of drizzle?
thirty.
He's parked in his favorite place, right outside, waiting for any kind of sound or light to emerge across the street. Besides the occassional car whizzing by there's nothing, but he's dedicated so he waits and waits and waits again, just like the night before and before and before.
He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. What was he doing? He's not sure what he's going to see or expects to see, but he's always waiting for something it feels like, something eating him to the core of his stomach, something physically affecting him every time he tries to eat. His food never settles in his stomach anymore and he's visibly weak, cheeks sunken in, but he can't stop waiting, so he just sits there, driving off when no one cares, excited for his schedules to finish just so he can sit in his car and wait for nothing.
It seems like days pass by.
THACK THACK THACK.
The bold rasps on his window make Jonghyun leap his in his seat, bile daring to spill out of him. It's Minho, drenched in rain, face grave and dark and he won't stop pounding on the window until Jonghyun unlocks the doors and he scrambles in on the passenger side, hunching over, shivering and fisting Jonghyun's coat into his hands.
"FUCK!"
"Minho, how-"
"Hyung, why?" Jonghyun's scared, not because Minho's voice is commanding and threatening but because the younger boy is looking at him with utter confusion and heartbreak and for a second Jonghyun thinks Minho just might be in love with him. He feels rough hands being placed on his cheeks, cold, wet and meaningful.
"Hyung, you've got to stop this. This is wrong. It's so wrong."
Jonghyun looks down, shaking from Minho's cold affection, his own hand clutching on the weakness of his stomach.
"How did you find me?"
"When you wouldn't return home after schedules - we all kept getting worried. So I followed you last night, waiting in the car port, taking a taxi behind. Hyung, please-" Minho's voice is broken now, hoarse and anxious. "Please, just leave her alone."
"I think she's dating him, I just feel it."
"And what do you think you're expecting to find by waiting here every night? Him walking back to the dorms with the rest of the girls and their manager for an acceptable fuck? Do you realize what the fans would say if they saw you parked out here, stalking? It would kill our damage, tarnish their reputation, yours! This isn't right, you know that, right hyung? Right?"
"I know." he whimpers. "I feel sick."
"Because it's unhealthy. Please hyung. I'm worried about you, we all are. The others - the others don't know it's about...I didn't tell them. But I need you to take me home, and promise you will never return here." Pause. "Like this. Promise me."
Jonghyun nods rapidly, reassuring Minho by taking his hands into his own, gripping them with slight comfort, frightened at the aspect of a harsh scolding Minho is going to unleash. It never does though, and they drive home in silence, his right hand in the firm grip of Minho's the whole way back.
thirty-one.
There's an unspoken vow to never speak of this again, to pretend that he wasn't this crazy, to pretend that this was just a quick love pained phase, so Minho makes him coffee the next morning, never leaving his side, not leaving him even when he needs to use the bathroom, keeping track of the time waiting outside. Minho stays like this for a week, until his demanding schedules start to be in harm's way and the manager takes note of the duo's strange behavior. When Minho finally decides that the eye bags underneath Jonghyun's puffed face look decent sized again, makes sure he's bathing dutifully and only composes his song at timely hours does Jonghyun see him subtly telling Onew to keep watch when he leaves and never return from his dueling idol schedules.
thirty-two.
When he's finally able to break free from Minho's grasp, with the hundred percent confirmation he won't harass Jessica in any shape or form, Jonghyun is finally able to leave the dorm, unprotected and under the guise of his favorite slouchy hat and sunglasses just like he used to. He heads down the familiar path, eager to make things right, the biting winter air filling his cheeks, soft smoke blowing out of him every time he exhales. It's the first time in a while he's felt normal, felt good, and he likes the way the broken ice crunches under his boots with each step.
thirty-three.
It doesn't take him long before his thrusts are erratic, breath jilted and he doesn't feel like making it last so he runs a lazy hand through her sweaty hair, kneeling down, energy slacking.
"I'm going to come, I think I'm going to come now,"
he says in one quick breath, legs throbbing in pain. She's grunting underneath him, squirming and nodding.
"Say my name this time, Jonghyun, say my name."
He mouths the word, 'YES, ' fevered, nuzzling his face into her neck out of habit, panting and shaking with his last violent thrust in the air,
"Jessica, Jessi, Sica, Sica-"
He realizes his mistake a little too late, the remainder of his come spilling on to the sheets when Sekyung abruptly pushes him away, forcing him to slide out.
thirty-four.
It doesn't help him that Onew is the one who's always around him now, double checking him and his phone every time it buzzes. His mind grows wary, wondering what Minho told Onew, but Onew never raises suspcion besides texting away on his own phone.
Jonghyun finally gets over his fear of watching-over-me-angel-Onew, checking his phone in the van when they are resting at a stop.
"I'm sorry I was an asshole, baby. Forgive me? XOXO."
He abides his time by filtering the radio channels, nothing pleasing his picky ears. She never responds.
thirty-five.
Minho slides into the seat next to him, hand casually on Jonghyun's forearm, hairs prickling any time Jonghyun flashes a glance around the airplane, leering constantly, ever so froglike.
"Relax, stupid. It's not like I'm going to jump over to her seat and kidnap her to join the mile high club."
Still leering.
"Besides, she's with her sister, it'd be rude for me to interrupt them."
He takes out the newspaper folded in the seat pocket in front. He opens it, bothers to pretend and be invested despite the fact it's in Thai.
"That wouldn't have you stopped you in the past."
But Minho finally lets go of him, leering outside the window and beyond the blue sky. Jonghyun glances around again, fidgeting a little when his eyes fall upon her, a couple of rows above, skinny arm dangling from the aisle, Krystal's arm retracting her sisters and Jonghyun becomes entranced, his heart palpating throughout the whole flight whenever he catches a glimpse of the arm falling again.
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last part up soon omg swear on my soul i will nvr try to write chaptered fics again this is murder lol