(no subject)
title: wagers
pairing: jaejoong/changmin
rating: PG-13
A/N: a follow up fic to the one pick your battles, which i wrote eight months ago, only this one contains no angel!su. instead it contains mildly evil!jaejoong, clueless!changmin, many suju cameos and much fail. clearly i need to get back into the knack of writing again XD
While Shim Changmin wouldn’t call himself the sharpest tack in the box, he’s pretty damned close to it, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there’s something wrong with this place. Sure, the anomalies aren’t glaringly obvious, or anything, but it’d be hard pressed for him to miss how fast the attrition rate is, especially when it comes to the new staff. They’d come in all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (fresh graduates all; he recognizes the look) and barely a week later, gone, the only evidence of their brief presence a lone pen or a forlorn pack of mints. This, however, is nothing compared to the way the regular employees all but cower whenever they’re summoned to see the boss. It truly is baffling, Changmin thinks, ignoring the nasty look Lee from Accounting throws his way the next time he’s sent to relay the message. Jung Yunho had always seemed the most reasonable of men, and while coolly intimidating, on occasion, hardly the type to inspire gut-wrenching fear in his employees.
The constant appearance of one Youngwoong Jaejoong, however, serves as insurmountable evidence that there is, without a doubt, something very, very wrong with Jung Corp. Changmin’s inability to figure out just how and in what capacity Jaejoong serves the company infuriates him (he can’t seem to find any record of the man, even after hacking into the employee databases), and he’s concluded that the man probably shares a less than clandestine relationship with the big boss himself. That, however, doesn’t explain the way his coworkers seem to be inexplicably caught in a state of fervent hero worship whenever it comes to Jaejoong. The way they crane around the walls of their cubicles to stare whenever he drops by during working hours quite frankly makes Changmin sick.
“Youngwoong - sir.” Changmin’s head whips up in incredulity, and he watches, almost against his will, as the Assistant Manager of Finances simpers up at the taller man. Is that - is that admiration in his voice? Oh dear god.
“We’re all behind you, sir. You’re set to break the record, and most of us -that is, all of us here- we think you’ll even finish ahead of Heechul, maybe even Sungmin -”
“Huh. I don’t know about that. Sungmin plays very dirty. Still, the vote of confidence…” Changmin swears the man almost preens, before he catches sight of Changmin’s expression.
“Well, well.” Jaejoong heads in his direction, and Changmin quickly adopts a neutral, unassuming expression. “Still here, I see. Yunho must really like you.”
Changmin keeps his voice even, inflectionless. “Mr. Jung is in a meeting.”
“That’s okay. I’ll wait.” To his annoyance, Jaejoong immediately perches himself on the edge of Changmin’s desk and starts riffling through his paperwork. “What in the name of the Pit is this?”
Changmin only manages to restrain himself by taking into consideration the fact that punching your boss’s boyfriend in the face probably isn’t the best career move to make. They’d probably kick him right off the corporate ladder, actually. “Please don’t mess those up.”
Jaejoong lets the papers fall back onto the desk, clearly less than fascinated by their contents. “Tell me, though,” and he’s enjoying taunting him, the bastard, “why you’re still here, when you’re obviously remarkably bad at taking orders.”
Changmin doesn’t deign to look up from his typing. “Maybe,” he says, evenly, “I only take orders from people worth listening to.”
“Huh.” Changmin turns, mouth closing with a snap as Jaejoong’s eyes narrow slightly, even as his smile remains fixed in his face. Jaejoong’s gaze sits heavy on him, and settles uncomfortably like a second, too-tight skin. For some reason Changmin’s unable to look away. “We’re going to have to test that theory sometime,” Jaejoong says, voice low, smooth like a hot knife through melting butter. “I have a feeling you’re going to prove very compliant -”
“Ah. Jaejoong. Just the person I wanted to see.” Changmin jerks, almost guiltily, and looks up to see Yunho standing there, slight frown on his face. “You look a little pale, Changmin. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”
It feels oddly like he’s surfaced from some preternaturally vivid dream. “I - yes, Mr. Jung.”
“My office, Jaejoong,” Yunho says, and Jaejoong gets up to follow.
“Glad we had such a nice chat,” Jaejoong calls back over his shoulder, and Changmin swears he can hear the bastard laughing even through the soundproof walls.
---
Jaejoong can see the rebuke coming. It’s written all over Yunho’s face. Honestly, the man’s no fun anymore.
“Mind games, Jaejoong? I thought you got bored of that two centuries ago.”
“I did.” Jaejoong arranges himself, finally settling on a comfortable sprawl. Damn, these chairs are comfy. “He’s a tough one to crack, though.”
Yunho looks more exasperated than annoyed, he’s glad to see. “Leave Changmin alone, he’s the last one left on this floor, and you know how hard good help is to come by.”
“Can’t promise that, he’s too much fun,” Jaejoong says, and deftly ignores Yunho’s dark look. “What did you want to see me about?”
“The…record.” Yunho settles himself in his chair, and leans forward, all business now. Jaejoong finds himself straightening unconsciously, and settles back down with a scowl. Yunho doesn’t give any indication that he’s noticed. “How many more before you break it?”
“Three more,” Jaejoong says, and he can’t quite keep the triumph out of his voice. Ah, pride. His very own poison. “As of an hour ago, Sungmin has at least five more to go, while Heechul’s so behind I’m surprised he’s still even in the running.”
The movement is so small that anyone but Jaejoong would have missed it. The minute shift in the set of Yunho’s shoulders is as good as a slump of relief in any other person. “Good. I…hope you realize how much hinges on you winning this.”
Jaejoong is, for the first time in a while, genuinely surprised. “I had no idea you were the betting sort.”
Yunho smiles ruefully. “Oh, greed. It undoes us all.”
“Greed, greed! I should have known. It’s so obvious.” Jaejoong scowls balefully at Yunho. “I can’t believe you kept this from me for so long.”
“You’ll win, though?”
“Of course I’ll win,” Jaejoong rolls his eyes at Yunho’s raised eyebrow. “No, it’s not just talk.” Jaejoong pauses, then purses his lips in thought. “Can I have the boy as a victory present?”
Yunho’s already turned back to his computer screen. “We’ll discuss that after you win.”
Seriously, though, the man really is no fun anymore.
----
Jaejoong runs into Changmin on the way out. More specifically, they share a lift down to the ground floor, Changmin studiously avoiding his gaze, the silence thick enough to cut. Changmin’s freezing animosity aside, though, this really is too good an opportunity to pass up. Jaejoong follows Changmin out, and is graced with a positively hostile stare.
“Don’t you have a job of some sort to get back to?”
“Nope. I work at night,” Jaejoong grins. Changmin gives him a look and a fleeting once over before turning away, clearly satisfied with whatever conclusion he’s drawn.
“I should have known.”
“Your words, they wound,” Jaejoong says, affecting despair, and grins as Changmin snorts in derision. He’ll never admit it, but the boy is…interesting. Changmin’s legs are long, and Jaejoong has to quicken his pace to keep up. The boy’s annoyance is palpable, and makes him want to laugh out loud.
“Why, in the name of god, are you following me?”
“Language,” Jaejoong admonishes, ignoring Changmin’s incredulous look. He takes the chance, as they round the corner, to trap the taller boy up against the wall. Trust him to think taking a shortcut through the alleys would help him shake off Jaejoong faster.
“Besides, you’re cute,” Jaejoong breathes by his ear, and feels Changmin stiffen under his hands. “What, never…experimented? How vanilla of you.”
Changmin scowls down at him. “I’m not homophobic, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” and Jaejoong blinks in consternation.
This is new. This…this might actually be a challenge.
Jaejoong smiles again, slowly, languidly. “Well, no. I’ve seen the way you look at Yunho.”
It’s a long shot, but Jaejoong’s always trusted his instincts. He watches as Changmin’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“What the hell -?”
Gotcha.
“What do you imagine he’ll do to you each time he calls you into his office, hmm? Maybe one day he will do it -”
“He’s my boss-”
“Bend you over that desk of his -”
“Shut up, it’s not like that.”
“Is that why he insists on keeping you, then? What do you call him when he’s fucking you? Mr. Jung? I had no idea Yunho was that -”
“Shut up,” Changmin snarls, and Jaejoong only realizes, too late, when Changmin slams him rather painfully into the brick wall, their earlier positions reversed. Changmin’s face is flushed, his eyes dark dark dark, and he’s so pretty like this that Jaejoong almost doesn’t mind the indignity of being manhandled like this. Almost.
“Let go,” Jaejoong says quietly. It’s not a request. Changmin does, if unwillingly, and takes a step backward. Jaejoong is still too busy scrutinizing the younger boy. Anger. How very, very interesting.
“Grow a sense of humour, will you?” Changmin doesn’t even have the time to blink in confusion before Jaejoong’s pressing his lips to his, one hand in his hair and the other on his hip. The words sexual harassment haven’t quite formed in his brain yet before Jaejoong releases him, the look on his face so smug that Changmin’s once again tempted to wipe it off with his fist.
“There,” Jaejoong says, looking immensely satisfied, as if at a job well done.
“Wh- What -” Changmin’s aware he’s spluttering, and closes his mouth with a snap, before trying again. “What the fuck do you think you were doing?”
Jaejoong looks at him as if he’s the one with the double digit IQ. Changmin doesn’t think he’s ever felt more insulted in his life.
“Okay, gotta run,” Jaejoong says, glancing quickly at his watch. “We should do this again, baby,” he grins, half-leering, and laughs at Changmin’s scandalized expression before ducking back out into the street.
---
What was once avid curiousity morphs into full-blown obsession over the next couple of days. The lack of any sort of record of a Youngwoong Jaejoong, or any Jaejoong at all, in the company databases just about drives Changmin up the wall. It’s a good thing he’s got most of his paperwork done for the week; he’s too busy trying to hack into every department’s files to pay more than scant attention to what he’s actually supposed to be doing. This is, he knows, at least as crazy as Jaejoong is, who’s just about a certified psychopath. Changmin, however, has never felt a more pressing need to discover just what the place is hiding, and he’s certain the trail begins with the nutjob. Pity, then, that said headcase remains conspicuously absent, and try as he might, Changmin just can’t seem to unearth any hint of his existence in the company files.
The strangest thing, however, is the way his colleagues are now treating him. It starts, innocuously enough, at lunch the day after The Episode.
“Hey, Changmin,” Kibum says, “there’s something on your…wait, no…”
“What?” Changmin asks, half-alarmed, and watches as Kibum squints at his face.
“Oh. Oh. Nope, sorry, nothing there…”
Still wary, Changmin turns to Yehsung. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Yehsung shrugs, then, unexpectedly, reaches over to clasp Changmin on the arm. “You’ve been a good friend, Changmin-ah.”
“I, uh. Excuse me,” Changmin says, and spends the next fifteen minutes in the bathroom searching for a visible wart, or sore, and finding nothing but smooth skin.
It’s weird, the looks they’re sending his way, some commiserating, most openly malicious. Lee from Accounting seems positively astounded to see him walk in to work every morning. Yunho, too, had taken one careful look at him before walking away, muttering to himself.
It’s unsettling enough that Changmin doesn’t even bat an eyelash when Yehsung suggests they go get wasted after work that night. It’s been a long week filled with days of fruitless research, and the most infuriating part of it is how it’s all Jaejoong’s fault. He could use a pick-me-up.
It’s only when they’re at the club and fighting their way to the bar through the throng that Changmin remembers why he never comes to these places. They’re playing something with a heavy, insistent beat, the thump of the bass over the speakers loud enough to give him a headache. He winces at the flashing lights as Yehsung pushes a shot into his hands. “Drink up,” Yehsung hollers over the music, and Changmin does.
It tastes foul, and so does the next one, and the next one. By the time he’s sipping on something icy, strawberry-flavoured and decidedly not foul he can’t quite remember why he doesn’t like places like these. Yehsung’s attempting to chat up some poor chick who couldn’t look less interested if she tried. Changmin’s weighing the odds of Yehsung turning surly if he cuts in when there’s a tap on his shoulder, and a voice close by his ear.
“Hi,” the boy says, coy smile playing on his lips, and Changmin blinks. He could pass for a girl, with those eyes and that long hair. He frowns, then, staring up at Changmin with an intensity that makes him want to squirm, and Changmin swears he hears the boy say ‘Jaejoong’. Wait, that can’t be right.
“Sorry?” Changmin mouths, and the boy shakes his head, smile back in place.
“I’m Sungmin,” he replies, lips almost brushing Changmin’s ear as he leans up to be heard, and there’s something almost predatory about the curve of his lips as he pulls back to face Changmin. “Want to dance?”
---
Jaejoong’s having a good week. Two down, one more to go, and another five days left to the end of the month. She stumbles drunkenly in her four inch heels, and Jaejoong pauses irritably to pull her upright. She giggles, hand still maintaining a death grip on his shirt, and Jaejoong sighs. This one had been easy, though; young, still in her prime, married too early. He’d known that about her, even though she’d taken off her ring before setting out tonight. She’d been flattered by his attention, charmed by his smiles, and by the third drink had agreed to let him take her to a hotel. Jaejoong knows, the scenes unfolding in his mind’s eye, how this will turn out; tomorrow she will be filled with remorse, with self-loathing, and when she returns home her jealous husband will be waiting with a knife…
Jaejoong grins, and resumes his grip on her waist. The thought of violence has never failed to cheer him up yet.
---
Changmin is pretty sure he’s had too much to drink. This is the only explanation for the heaviness of his head, and the way the world keeps slipping in and out of focus.
“I need you to do something for me,” Sungmin had said, smiling up at Changmin in a way that made his heart beat in triple time. “Can you do that for me, Changmin? Just one little thing.”
“Anything,” and this is true, Changmin knows even now, he’ll do anything just to see Sungmin look at him like that again, “anything you want.”
“Good boy,” Sungmin had purred, lips cool on his cheek, and Changmin had known just what it is he’s meant to do.
He’s at the edge of the road now, his eyes taking in the cars without truly registering them. It’s imperative that he cross, right now, because Sungmin will be waiting on the other side for him, and he can’t afford to be late -
Changmin takes a step off the curb.
---
They’re halfway down the street when Jaejoong notices.
Even from this distance he can see how glazed Changmin’s eyes are, how slow his reactions, which means -
“Fuck,” Jaejoong snarls, as Changmin puts one foot on the road. He takes one last, longing look at the semi-unconscious woman in his arms.
There’d be time for one more tomorrow, but still, after all that work -
His head jerks up at the sound of frenzied blasts of the horn. Somehow Changmin’s halfway across the road, and - Jaejoong’s lip curls involuntarily. A eighteen wheeler? Really? How trite.
Jaejoong sighs, drops the woman unceremoniously to the pavement, and starts running.
---
The first thing Changmin realizes, when he comes to with a jerk (the world crashing back into focus, the heaviness vanishing) is that he’s flying. Well, several feet off the ground, at any rate. The second thing he realizes is that it’s Jaejoong holding him up by the scruff of his neck before he’s dropped carelessly onto the hard ground. Even then he keeps his eyes open; he thinks he sees the outline of wings against the darkness (black as night, and he’s reminded forcibly of ragged parchment) and the flicker of something else beneath that human face. Jaejoong catches him looking.
“Not so pretty, is it?” Jaejoong’s smile is thinly sardonic, and Changmin doesn’t trust himself to speak.
Changmin blinks, and it’s just Jaejoong again, normal (though a little voice in his head laughs hysterically at the thought of ever describing Jaejoong as normal), human-shaped Jaejoong.
“People,” Jaejoong fumes, “have no respect for personal property these days. I left a mark,” Jaejoong snarls, when Changmin looks patently confused. “It should have been more than clear to anyone that I was going to come back for you.”
Changmin frowns. “A - a mark,” and then he gets it, suddenly it makes sense, what Kibum said, the way they’ve all been looking at him - “You marked me,” Changmin says, more than a little offended, before the next thought occurs to him. “Wait. That means everyone at the company, they’re all like, like -”
“Like me, you mean?” Jaejoong joins Changmin on the ground, legs crossed, and looks a little disappointed that Changmin doesn’t flinch away. “Afraid so. Well, there’re a few more of your kind around, but Yunho said you were the last one on your floor, so -”
“I’m going home,” Changmin says abruptly, standing up and wobbling slightly on the spot. Jaejoong stares up at him.
“What, now?”
“Yes, now.” Changmin is relieved to find he’s still able to walk in a straight line.
Jaejoong’s standing up and craning to see across the darkened street. “Shit, she’s gone - You just made me lose my kill,” Jaejoong says, sounding more petulant than anything else.
“I don’t even want to know what that means,” Changmin manages, and yelps in protest when Jaejoong latches onto his arm. “Hey!”
Jaejoong’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Disregarding the fact that I just saved your life, you still owe me one life for making me lose that woman to save your sorry ass. You owe me double.”
“In what universe does that even make sense?” Changmin wonders aloud, then catches sight of Jaejoong’s face and decides it’d be best for him to shut up now.
---
Jaejoong receives a message from Sungmin later the next day.
Thanks for the free kill. Also, this means I win.
Jaejoong groans. Yunho is going to be so pissed.
---
“You’re not going to go away, are you?”
“Nope,” Jaejoong replies from his sprawl on Changmin’s couch, eyes fixed on the TV. It amazes him, sometimes, the increasingly inventive ways human beings find to humiliate others of their own kind - “Ow! Fuck, that hurt. What was that for?”
“If you’re going to stay here,” Changmin says waspishly, “you could at least help to clean up the place.”
---
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”
Jaejoong raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want me to kill him.”
“I don’t, but -” Yunho sighs heavily. He looks like he’s aged ten years, and Jaejoong almost feels bad for him.
“Look, I’m sorry I lost, I told you Sungmin would play dirty -”
“Fine.” Yunho sighs again, before turning back to his papers. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Changmin has his head bent over his work when Jaejoong leaves Yunho’s office. “Lunch,” he declares, pulling a startled Changmin out of his swivel chair and swinging an arm about his shoulders.
“You know it’s not my lunch break yet -”
“Quit whining and let’s go before anyone sees.”
Changmin signs in mock resignation. “I must have really pissed someone up there off, to be stuck with you.”
Jaejoong grins. “Blasphemer,” he says, and laughs as Changmin launches himself at him with a growl.
pairing: jaejoong/changmin
rating: PG-13
A/N: a follow up fic to the one pick your battles, which i wrote eight months ago, only this one contains no angel!su. instead it contains mildly evil!jaejoong, clueless!changmin, many suju cameos and much fail. clearly i need to get back into the knack of writing again XD
While Shim Changmin wouldn’t call himself the sharpest tack in the box, he’s pretty damned close to it, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there’s something wrong with this place. Sure, the anomalies aren’t glaringly obvious, or anything, but it’d be hard pressed for him to miss how fast the attrition rate is, especially when it comes to the new staff. They’d come in all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (fresh graduates all; he recognizes the look) and barely a week later, gone, the only evidence of their brief presence a lone pen or a forlorn pack of mints. This, however, is nothing compared to the way the regular employees all but cower whenever they’re summoned to see the boss. It truly is baffling, Changmin thinks, ignoring the nasty look Lee from Accounting throws his way the next time he’s sent to relay the message. Jung Yunho had always seemed the most reasonable of men, and while coolly intimidating, on occasion, hardly the type to inspire gut-wrenching fear in his employees.
The constant appearance of one Youngwoong Jaejoong, however, serves as insurmountable evidence that there is, without a doubt, something very, very wrong with Jung Corp. Changmin’s inability to figure out just how and in what capacity Jaejoong serves the company infuriates him (he can’t seem to find any record of the man, even after hacking into the employee databases), and he’s concluded that the man probably shares a less than clandestine relationship with the big boss himself. That, however, doesn’t explain the way his coworkers seem to be inexplicably caught in a state of fervent hero worship whenever it comes to Jaejoong. The way they crane around the walls of their cubicles to stare whenever he drops by during working hours quite frankly makes Changmin sick.
“Youngwoong - sir.” Changmin’s head whips up in incredulity, and he watches, almost against his will, as the Assistant Manager of Finances simpers up at the taller man. Is that - is that admiration in his voice? Oh dear god.
“We’re all behind you, sir. You’re set to break the record, and most of us -that is, all of us here- we think you’ll even finish ahead of Heechul, maybe even Sungmin -”
“Huh. I don’t know about that. Sungmin plays very dirty. Still, the vote of confidence…” Changmin swears the man almost preens, before he catches sight of Changmin’s expression.
“Well, well.” Jaejoong heads in his direction, and Changmin quickly adopts a neutral, unassuming expression. “Still here, I see. Yunho must really like you.”
Changmin keeps his voice even, inflectionless. “Mr. Jung is in a meeting.”
“That’s okay. I’ll wait.” To his annoyance, Jaejoong immediately perches himself on the edge of Changmin’s desk and starts riffling through his paperwork. “What in the name of the Pit is this?”
Changmin only manages to restrain himself by taking into consideration the fact that punching your boss’s boyfriend in the face probably isn’t the best career move to make. They’d probably kick him right off the corporate ladder, actually. “Please don’t mess those up.”
Jaejoong lets the papers fall back onto the desk, clearly less than fascinated by their contents. “Tell me, though,” and he’s enjoying taunting him, the bastard, “why you’re still here, when you’re obviously remarkably bad at taking orders.”
Changmin doesn’t deign to look up from his typing. “Maybe,” he says, evenly, “I only take orders from people worth listening to.”
“Huh.” Changmin turns, mouth closing with a snap as Jaejoong’s eyes narrow slightly, even as his smile remains fixed in his face. Jaejoong’s gaze sits heavy on him, and settles uncomfortably like a second, too-tight skin. For some reason Changmin’s unable to look away. “We’re going to have to test that theory sometime,” Jaejoong says, voice low, smooth like a hot knife through melting butter. “I have a feeling you’re going to prove very compliant -”
“Ah. Jaejoong. Just the person I wanted to see.” Changmin jerks, almost guiltily, and looks up to see Yunho standing there, slight frown on his face. “You look a little pale, Changmin. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”
It feels oddly like he’s surfaced from some preternaturally vivid dream. “I - yes, Mr. Jung.”
“My office, Jaejoong,” Yunho says, and Jaejoong gets up to follow.
“Glad we had such a nice chat,” Jaejoong calls back over his shoulder, and Changmin swears he can hear the bastard laughing even through the soundproof walls.
---
Jaejoong can see the rebuke coming. It’s written all over Yunho’s face. Honestly, the man’s no fun anymore.
“Mind games, Jaejoong? I thought you got bored of that two centuries ago.”
“I did.” Jaejoong arranges himself, finally settling on a comfortable sprawl. Damn, these chairs are comfy. “He’s a tough one to crack, though.”
Yunho looks more exasperated than annoyed, he’s glad to see. “Leave Changmin alone, he’s the last one left on this floor, and you know how hard good help is to come by.”
“Can’t promise that, he’s too much fun,” Jaejoong says, and deftly ignores Yunho’s dark look. “What did you want to see me about?”
“The…record.” Yunho settles himself in his chair, and leans forward, all business now. Jaejoong finds himself straightening unconsciously, and settles back down with a scowl. Yunho doesn’t give any indication that he’s noticed. “How many more before you break it?”
“Three more,” Jaejoong says, and he can’t quite keep the triumph out of his voice. Ah, pride. His very own poison. “As of an hour ago, Sungmin has at least five more to go, while Heechul’s so behind I’m surprised he’s still even in the running.”
The movement is so small that anyone but Jaejoong would have missed it. The minute shift in the set of Yunho’s shoulders is as good as a slump of relief in any other person. “Good. I…hope you realize how much hinges on you winning this.”
Jaejoong is, for the first time in a while, genuinely surprised. “I had no idea you were the betting sort.”
Yunho smiles ruefully. “Oh, greed. It undoes us all.”
“Greed, greed! I should have known. It’s so obvious.” Jaejoong scowls balefully at Yunho. “I can’t believe you kept this from me for so long.”
“You’ll win, though?”
“Of course I’ll win,” Jaejoong rolls his eyes at Yunho’s raised eyebrow. “No, it’s not just talk.” Jaejoong pauses, then purses his lips in thought. “Can I have the boy as a victory present?”
Yunho’s already turned back to his computer screen. “We’ll discuss that after you win.”
Seriously, though, the man really is no fun anymore.
----
Jaejoong runs into Changmin on the way out. More specifically, they share a lift down to the ground floor, Changmin studiously avoiding his gaze, the silence thick enough to cut. Changmin’s freezing animosity aside, though, this really is too good an opportunity to pass up. Jaejoong follows Changmin out, and is graced with a positively hostile stare.
“Don’t you have a job of some sort to get back to?”
“Nope. I work at night,” Jaejoong grins. Changmin gives him a look and a fleeting once over before turning away, clearly satisfied with whatever conclusion he’s drawn.
“I should have known.”
“Your words, they wound,” Jaejoong says, affecting despair, and grins as Changmin snorts in derision. He’ll never admit it, but the boy is…interesting. Changmin’s legs are long, and Jaejoong has to quicken his pace to keep up. The boy’s annoyance is palpable, and makes him want to laugh out loud.
“Why, in the name of god, are you following me?”
“Language,” Jaejoong admonishes, ignoring Changmin’s incredulous look. He takes the chance, as they round the corner, to trap the taller boy up against the wall. Trust him to think taking a shortcut through the alleys would help him shake off Jaejoong faster.
“Besides, you’re cute,” Jaejoong breathes by his ear, and feels Changmin stiffen under his hands. “What, never…experimented? How vanilla of you.”
Changmin scowls down at him. “I’m not homophobic, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” and Jaejoong blinks in consternation.
This is new. This…this might actually be a challenge.
Jaejoong smiles again, slowly, languidly. “Well, no. I’ve seen the way you look at Yunho.”
It’s a long shot, but Jaejoong’s always trusted his instincts. He watches as Changmin’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“What the hell -?”
Gotcha.
“What do you imagine he’ll do to you each time he calls you into his office, hmm? Maybe one day he will do it -”
“He’s my boss-”
“Bend you over that desk of his -”
“Shut up, it’s not like that.”
“Is that why he insists on keeping you, then? What do you call him when he’s fucking you? Mr. Jung? I had no idea Yunho was that -”
“Shut up,” Changmin snarls, and Jaejoong only realizes, too late, when Changmin slams him rather painfully into the brick wall, their earlier positions reversed. Changmin’s face is flushed, his eyes dark dark dark, and he’s so pretty like this that Jaejoong almost doesn’t mind the indignity of being manhandled like this. Almost.
“Let go,” Jaejoong says quietly. It’s not a request. Changmin does, if unwillingly, and takes a step backward. Jaejoong is still too busy scrutinizing the younger boy. Anger. How very, very interesting.
“Grow a sense of humour, will you?” Changmin doesn’t even have the time to blink in confusion before Jaejoong’s pressing his lips to his, one hand in his hair and the other on his hip. The words sexual harassment haven’t quite formed in his brain yet before Jaejoong releases him, the look on his face so smug that Changmin’s once again tempted to wipe it off with his fist.
“There,” Jaejoong says, looking immensely satisfied, as if at a job well done.
“Wh- What -” Changmin’s aware he’s spluttering, and closes his mouth with a snap, before trying again. “What the fuck do you think you were doing?”
Jaejoong looks at him as if he’s the one with the double digit IQ. Changmin doesn’t think he’s ever felt more insulted in his life.
“Okay, gotta run,” Jaejoong says, glancing quickly at his watch. “We should do this again, baby,” he grins, half-leering, and laughs at Changmin’s scandalized expression before ducking back out into the street.
---
What was once avid curiousity morphs into full-blown obsession over the next couple of days. The lack of any sort of record of a Youngwoong Jaejoong, or any Jaejoong at all, in the company databases just about drives Changmin up the wall. It’s a good thing he’s got most of his paperwork done for the week; he’s too busy trying to hack into every department’s files to pay more than scant attention to what he’s actually supposed to be doing. This is, he knows, at least as crazy as Jaejoong is, who’s just about a certified psychopath. Changmin, however, has never felt a more pressing need to discover just what the place is hiding, and he’s certain the trail begins with the nutjob. Pity, then, that said headcase remains conspicuously absent, and try as he might, Changmin just can’t seem to unearth any hint of his existence in the company files.
The strangest thing, however, is the way his colleagues are now treating him. It starts, innocuously enough, at lunch the day after The Episode.
“Hey, Changmin,” Kibum says, “there’s something on your…wait, no…”
“What?” Changmin asks, half-alarmed, and watches as Kibum squints at his face.
“Oh. Oh. Nope, sorry, nothing there…”
Still wary, Changmin turns to Yehsung. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Yehsung shrugs, then, unexpectedly, reaches over to clasp Changmin on the arm. “You’ve been a good friend, Changmin-ah.”
“I, uh. Excuse me,” Changmin says, and spends the next fifteen minutes in the bathroom searching for a visible wart, or sore, and finding nothing but smooth skin.
It’s weird, the looks they’re sending his way, some commiserating, most openly malicious. Lee from Accounting seems positively astounded to see him walk in to work every morning. Yunho, too, had taken one careful look at him before walking away, muttering to himself.
It’s unsettling enough that Changmin doesn’t even bat an eyelash when Yehsung suggests they go get wasted after work that night. It’s been a long week filled with days of fruitless research, and the most infuriating part of it is how it’s all Jaejoong’s fault. He could use a pick-me-up.
It’s only when they’re at the club and fighting their way to the bar through the throng that Changmin remembers why he never comes to these places. They’re playing something with a heavy, insistent beat, the thump of the bass over the speakers loud enough to give him a headache. He winces at the flashing lights as Yehsung pushes a shot into his hands. “Drink up,” Yehsung hollers over the music, and Changmin does.
It tastes foul, and so does the next one, and the next one. By the time he’s sipping on something icy, strawberry-flavoured and decidedly not foul he can’t quite remember why he doesn’t like places like these. Yehsung’s attempting to chat up some poor chick who couldn’t look less interested if she tried. Changmin’s weighing the odds of Yehsung turning surly if he cuts in when there’s a tap on his shoulder, and a voice close by his ear.
“Hi,” the boy says, coy smile playing on his lips, and Changmin blinks. He could pass for a girl, with those eyes and that long hair. He frowns, then, staring up at Changmin with an intensity that makes him want to squirm, and Changmin swears he hears the boy say ‘Jaejoong’. Wait, that can’t be right.
“Sorry?” Changmin mouths, and the boy shakes his head, smile back in place.
“I’m Sungmin,” he replies, lips almost brushing Changmin’s ear as he leans up to be heard, and there’s something almost predatory about the curve of his lips as he pulls back to face Changmin. “Want to dance?”
---
Jaejoong’s having a good week. Two down, one more to go, and another five days left to the end of the month. She stumbles drunkenly in her four inch heels, and Jaejoong pauses irritably to pull her upright. She giggles, hand still maintaining a death grip on his shirt, and Jaejoong sighs. This one had been easy, though; young, still in her prime, married too early. He’d known that about her, even though she’d taken off her ring before setting out tonight. She’d been flattered by his attention, charmed by his smiles, and by the third drink had agreed to let him take her to a hotel. Jaejoong knows, the scenes unfolding in his mind’s eye, how this will turn out; tomorrow she will be filled with remorse, with self-loathing, and when she returns home her jealous husband will be waiting with a knife…
Jaejoong grins, and resumes his grip on her waist. The thought of violence has never failed to cheer him up yet.
---
Changmin is pretty sure he’s had too much to drink. This is the only explanation for the heaviness of his head, and the way the world keeps slipping in and out of focus.
“I need you to do something for me,” Sungmin had said, smiling up at Changmin in a way that made his heart beat in triple time. “Can you do that for me, Changmin? Just one little thing.”
“Anything,” and this is true, Changmin knows even now, he’ll do anything just to see Sungmin look at him like that again, “anything you want.”
“Good boy,” Sungmin had purred, lips cool on his cheek, and Changmin had known just what it is he’s meant to do.
He’s at the edge of the road now, his eyes taking in the cars without truly registering them. It’s imperative that he cross, right now, because Sungmin will be waiting on the other side for him, and he can’t afford to be late -
Changmin takes a step off the curb.
---
They’re halfway down the street when Jaejoong notices.
Even from this distance he can see how glazed Changmin’s eyes are, how slow his reactions, which means -
“Fuck,” Jaejoong snarls, as Changmin puts one foot on the road. He takes one last, longing look at the semi-unconscious woman in his arms.
There’d be time for one more tomorrow, but still, after all that work -
His head jerks up at the sound of frenzied blasts of the horn. Somehow Changmin’s halfway across the road, and - Jaejoong’s lip curls involuntarily. A eighteen wheeler? Really? How trite.
Jaejoong sighs, drops the woman unceremoniously to the pavement, and starts running.
---
The first thing Changmin realizes, when he comes to with a jerk (the world crashing back into focus, the heaviness vanishing) is that he’s flying. Well, several feet off the ground, at any rate. The second thing he realizes is that it’s Jaejoong holding him up by the scruff of his neck before he’s dropped carelessly onto the hard ground. Even then he keeps his eyes open; he thinks he sees the outline of wings against the darkness (black as night, and he’s reminded forcibly of ragged parchment) and the flicker of something else beneath that human face. Jaejoong catches him looking.
“Not so pretty, is it?” Jaejoong’s smile is thinly sardonic, and Changmin doesn’t trust himself to speak.
Changmin blinks, and it’s just Jaejoong again, normal (though a little voice in his head laughs hysterically at the thought of ever describing Jaejoong as normal), human-shaped Jaejoong.
“People,” Jaejoong fumes, “have no respect for personal property these days. I left a mark,” Jaejoong snarls, when Changmin looks patently confused. “It should have been more than clear to anyone that I was going to come back for you.”
Changmin frowns. “A - a mark,” and then he gets it, suddenly it makes sense, what Kibum said, the way they’ve all been looking at him - “You marked me,” Changmin says, more than a little offended, before the next thought occurs to him. “Wait. That means everyone at the company, they’re all like, like -”
“Like me, you mean?” Jaejoong joins Changmin on the ground, legs crossed, and looks a little disappointed that Changmin doesn’t flinch away. “Afraid so. Well, there’re a few more of your kind around, but Yunho said you were the last one on your floor, so -”
“I’m going home,” Changmin says abruptly, standing up and wobbling slightly on the spot. Jaejoong stares up at him.
“What, now?”
“Yes, now.” Changmin is relieved to find he’s still able to walk in a straight line.
Jaejoong’s standing up and craning to see across the darkened street. “Shit, she’s gone - You just made me lose my kill,” Jaejoong says, sounding more petulant than anything else.
“I don’t even want to know what that means,” Changmin manages, and yelps in protest when Jaejoong latches onto his arm. “Hey!”
Jaejoong’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Disregarding the fact that I just saved your life, you still owe me one life for making me lose that woman to save your sorry ass. You owe me double.”
“In what universe does that even make sense?” Changmin wonders aloud, then catches sight of Jaejoong’s face and decides it’d be best for him to shut up now.
---
Jaejoong receives a message from Sungmin later the next day.
Thanks for the free kill. Also, this means I win.
Jaejoong groans. Yunho is going to be so pissed.
---
“You’re not going to go away, are you?”
“Nope,” Jaejoong replies from his sprawl on Changmin’s couch, eyes fixed on the TV. It amazes him, sometimes, the increasingly inventive ways human beings find to humiliate others of their own kind - “Ow! Fuck, that hurt. What was that for?”
“If you’re going to stay here,” Changmin says waspishly, “you could at least help to clean up the place.”
---
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”
Jaejoong raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want me to kill him.”
“I don’t, but -” Yunho sighs heavily. He looks like he’s aged ten years, and Jaejoong almost feels bad for him.
“Look, I’m sorry I lost, I told you Sungmin would play dirty -”
“Fine.” Yunho sighs again, before turning back to his papers. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Changmin has his head bent over his work when Jaejoong leaves Yunho’s office. “Lunch,” he declares, pulling a startled Changmin out of his swivel chair and swinging an arm about his shoulders.
“You know it’s not my lunch break yet -”
“Quit whining and let’s go before anyone sees.”
Changmin signs in mock resignation. “I must have really pissed someone up there off, to be stuck with you.”
Jaejoong grins. “Blasphemer,” he says, and laughs as Changmin launches himself at him with a growl.