[fic] Caged Bird
Title: Caged Bird
Author: Cross (xmachina_writes)
Band/Pairing: DBSK, implied JaeMin, JaeHo, several Jae-het pairings,
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, het, Jaejoong het
Word Count: 8302
Summary: Junsu can't help but worry, watching Jaejoong as he does. But finding an answer to the problem isn't as easy as he could wish.
Comments: And now that I've had to work my tail off (found out some tragic stuff a couple hours after I made my last post, it really impacted everything) and am now catching a break.... Something I wrote a long time ago! Well, maybe not that long, but long enough. But it was for a contest and then results took awhile to be announced and then Life in general, so.... Whatever. It's here now. It's also a bit ... different. Well, the point of the contest was to write something with a twist, after all. And no, the fact that Jae is sleeping with women in this fic is not the twist. XD
I've left a couple of words untranslated from Chinese, for specific reasons. You should be able to figure out the general meaning from context, though.
~*~*~
In plain words, the truth of the matter was Kim Jaejoong worked entirely too much. Of course, it was expected that the heir should work hard - the company's reputation and continued success depended upon it. And Jaejoong's successes benefitted the whole household, from supporting additional wives to buying more land for the family estates, which was then reflected in the prestige of the family name. And all of that, in turn, fueled greater success in the company's trading contracts. None of which stopped Junsu from worrying, watching days turn to weeks, then weeks into months, nights growing later and later until he wondered if Jaejoong was getting any sleep at all.
“Jaejoong-sshi, perhaps you should put down the books for awhile. You've not been to the hougong in weeks, it's not healthy to keep yourself apart like this.”
“You say that as if anything in the hougong could have changed in that time. I'm fine, Junsu. I'll even go to bed after I've finished with this contract, I promise.”
Junsu sighed but bowed to fate. If he was going to lure Jaejoong away from the business books for awhile, he was going to have to find a more effective bait. Perhaps another wife....
~*~*~
At twenty-five, most men in Jaejoong's caste were still considering who they might like for a first wife, pretending or else outright ignoring that their parents would have far more to say about it than they themselves.
Jaejoong's father had been lost only a few months after he had been born, his mother living just long enough to see her only child named an adult and given charge of the company before passing on. He had five wives of his own now, two of whom were even pregnant - amid hushed whispers wondering how he could be the father, as infrequently as he spent any time in the hougong. That he was wealthy enough to support them all spoke highly to the success of his family's trading company ... and Jaejoong's abilities as that company's CEO.
Five wives. Junsu shook his head. Jaejoong had yet to even meet the newest one; as a ploy to get the man to stop working for awhile, she had failed entirely, though it was no fault of hers. Rather it was that Jaejoong had gone completely jaded, loudly declaring - in the privacy of his own apartment, with only Junsu as witness - that he saw no point in these continued marriages. Especially since he knew Junsu was arranging them as a ploy to get him to work less, which was, to quote the young master, completely ridiculous as he only worked so much because no one else did.
“Maybe you need to try a different track?”
“What do you know about it?” Junsu muttered, thumbing through the stacks of folders on his desk. For all his skills and abilities, his value to the household, Yoochun was both unmarried and a foreigner. His understanding of their society would only ever go so far.
“All the traveling I've done and nowhere do they have a saying 'fifth time's the charm',” the younger man countered from his sprawl on Junsu's chaise. “If you can't distract him with women, maybe it's time to try something else. A hunt, perhaps? Does he even do anything like that?”
“No, which shows how much you've been around lately.” But Yoochun might well have a point, as much as it pained Junsu to admit it. Perhaps it was time to arrange another shopping trip.
~*~*~
Junsu applauded himself for his restraint; an entire day of his lord's complaints - too hot, too cold, too bright, too dim, too tired, too hungry, too bored - and he had only grimaced twice and lost his temper once. He hadn't even made any shopkeepers cry, which was an improvement over the last time he and Jaejoong had gone on a shopping trip. Of course that time, Jaejoong had actually made several purchases. This trip seemed to have been nothing but a string of complaints, usually coupled with demands to know why he even had to be involved and didn't Junsu realize how much work he was missing because of this ridiculousness?
All and all, it was a miracle he hadn't strangled Jaejoong hours ago.
“You work too hard,” Soo-hae soothed, massaging de-stressing oils into the tense muscles of his shoulders, and though he huffed a frustrated noise into his pillow, he could not argue with the courtesan's words. It was a poorly kept secret indeed that Jaejoong barely managed to show the minimum respect to his own hougong, though he had at least, a month after the marriage, finally sent for his fifth wife. Once. He was going to have to have another talk with the boy, explain again the perils of playing so loosely with expectations. If someone were to get the idea that his attitude towards his own wives was a reflection of Jaejoong's thoughts towards tradition and family ... it would be worse than disastrous for his business.
“Someone has to. The boy would work himself to death if I didn't do something to prevent it,” Junsu muttered.
“The national opera is coming to the Pavilion as part of their tour next week. Perhaps that would help?”
Jaejoong was hardly known for his love of opera, but perhaps it would be a good idea to force him to attend the performance. With one of his wives on his arm. Junsu didn't even care which one the man chose, really. Any would do equally well at this point, so long as he went out and was seen showing the woman proper deference and honor. It was something Jaejoong didn't do often enough, spending so much time as he did working. His fourth wife, perhaps, as an apology for missing her birthday. Or the fifth, apologizing for not treating her better. Or the first, a last outing before her pregnancy kept her effectively housebound. The second was out of the question - she hated opera. And as for the third ... too soon for her to be seen again. The last thing Jaejoong needed was a night out ruined by the substrata of gossip mongers.
~*~*~
Junsu stared into the deep bowl of the snifter in his hand, watching the amber liquid within swirl and cling to the glass. The gods hated him ... or at the very least derived entirely too much pleasure from his suffering. Just when it had looked like things were finally going well - if Jaejoong hadn't necessarily been enjoying himself, he had at least been suffering in silence and presenting a pleasantly civilized front.
To be fair - he supposed - no one had realized Yi-che was someone who spoke, really. In the hougong, she rarely strung together more than five words in a day, let alone in one sitting. The thought that she would be someone who would prove to be almost pathologically incapable of keeping silent while out in society had simply never occurred to anyone. And while she had, thankfully, shown enough restraint not to try speaking over the actual performance, there had been no silencing her, short of Jaejoong clamping his hand over her mouth, the rest of the time they were out.
“Never again,” Jaejoong had declared, and Junsu was quite in agreement. Being an incessant chatterbox wasn't grounds for the dissolution of a marriage, thus Jaejoong was at current still stuck with his fourth wife, but kept to the hougong - where she had once again turned silent - she could at least do no further damage.
“It was a good idea,” Yoochun mused, studying his own serving of brandy. “It might have even worked with one of the other ones. For one night anyway. But that's all we're really looking for at this point, right? One night, maybe a day after, and then back to the usual?”
“Sadly, yes,” Junsu sighed. “More would, of course, be better, but at this point I'll take anything I can get. Before the boy works himself into an early death.”
“Well, what about a party? Never need much reason to be hosting one of those,” Yoochun suggested. “But if you did, midsummer's coming. An outdoor celebration? He's got the acreage for it on the Huan estate. Really make a big deal of it, make it something that lasts a couple of days? He's more than old enough now to host a Xiazhi feast.”
“Old enough, yes, but such things are rarely hosted by someone with five wives.”
“Because everyone else in the high castes with that many wives is three times older than he is. And after the last two scandals, Yi-che-sshi and Hibun-sshi barely even half count.”
Junsu huffed but stopped trying to argue with Yoochun. He didn't want the man convincing him that this was somehow a good idea. It wasn't. In any way, shape, or form. A Xiazhi feast was meant for young people, and in that sense, Jaejoong was a perfect host. More than perfect, with the amount of land he had available, since such midsummer festivals were meant to include a hunt as well as the usual feasting and ... camaraderie of young people plied with too much drink. It wasn't ... exactly a fertility festival, but midsummer was a time of courtship and, well.... More than a few young men had come out of such things with a betrothal forced upon them. It wasn't seemly for a man already married five times to be hosting such a thing.
But that didn't mean Jaejoong couldn't host a more appropriate, subdued midsummer gala. They would just leave certain persons at home.
~*~*~
This time, Junsu could barely muster the energy to feel resigned about the whole thing. Perhaps because there was no definition of the word 'wrong' that could be made to fit to the birth of Jaejoong's first child. Only a matter of poor timing. Certainly no one was blaming Jiyeon - she hadn't been due for another two months. Moonbin was a beautiful child, quite healthy and with a very developed set of lungs.
So in a sense, the party had actually been quite the success. A man's first child was always an accomplishment, a moment of pride and satisfaction. And Jaejoong was throwing himself wholly into the role of new father, taking entire days off to spend with his wife and son. Better still, all questions of paternity had died completely - Moonbin was very obviously Jaejoong's child.
Jaejoong was spending so much time in the hougong now that they had, in fact, needed to hire on another accountant to take up the slack, something that had not hurt Junsu's feelings in the least. Changmin was still young, but he had a definite gift for numbers and sifting through the minute details of trading contracts. And unlike Jaejoong, Changmin felt no need to take work home with him, content to leave it at the office at the end of the day. Junsu had every intension of keeping Changmin on the payroll even after the newness of being a father wore off and Jaejoong returned to his previous ways, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Changmin's work ethic would rub off on the other. It was worth a try.
~*~*~
Strange how quickly a couple of months could pass, how readily the charm and joy of a new child could fade. Junsu didn't remember losing his fascination with his own child so quickly. Even now, in fact, he spent stupid amounts of time preoccupied with thoughts of his own son. Everything he had ever seen on the subject led him to believe that such was typical of fathers - that one spent the rest of one's life worrying over one's children, whether they needed it or not.
But not Jaejoong. He still spent more nights at the hougong than not, but they tended to be short nights and only Donghae's iron refusal to let anything that even smelled remotely of work into the hougong had kept the young master from reverting completely to type.
“Is that all you're bringing with you, Changmin-ah?” Junsu asked, taking polite notice of the distinct lack of luggage the young man had with him. Not that much was required - the household was supplying him a furnished room, meals, access to the staff of servants, and Junsu was so hopeful this might straighten out Jaejoong that he was willing to requisition almost anything Changmin might decide he needed.
“Changmin-ah? What's this? Junsu? What's going on?”
“Boss-sshi. Did ... didn't Junsu-sshi explain?”
“I did, yes, but Jaejoong-sshi has a bad habit of not paying attention to me. I told you, Jaejoong-sshi, Changmin-ah is moving into the east wing. With as closely and as much as the two of you work together, it is more efficient this way.” He wouldn't mention to either of them his secret agenda.
“Ah, yes, now I remember,” and Junsu congratulated himself on suppressing a snort at Jaejoong's lie. “I suppose this means I'll be seeing you at dinner?”
“Ah, well, um....”
“Yes. And I will have those star charts and Yoochun-ah ready for the both of you in the north solarium after dinner, as you requested, Jaejoong-sshi.”
“Thank you, Junsu. If you'll excuse me....”
Junsu nodded, watching Jaejoong walk away for a beat before picking up the bulk of Changmin's meager bags and heading for the east wing. No sense in hanging around the foyer wasting time.
“Wa-wait, Junsu-sshi, what do you mean, star charts after dinner? Boss-sshi isn't actually meaning for us to work more after dinner ... is he??”
“You should try calling him by name. Jaejoong. He responds better when you use his name. He hears a title and his brain flips over into Lord of the Domain mode. With his name, he might actually take advice,” Junsu said, completely ignoring the scandalized look on Changmin's face. Of course it would take time for such a suggestion to actually bear fruit, but he might as well start putting the thought in Changmin's head now, rather than waiting.
“Junsu-sshi....”
“You are welcome to roam the entirety of the estate, make use of any of the facilities ... so long as it's not interfering in your work. But I'm sure you and Jaejoong will find your own version of a work schedule readily enough. There is an office in the north wing, but Jaejoong is equally prone to using the solaria and gardens.”
“What, any of the facilities? Even the -?”
“Anything. This is, after all, now your home as well. Please feel free to make appropriate use of it.”
A certain light sparkled in Changmin's eyes and Junsu smothered a smile. This was going to work.
~*~*~
Junsu glared at the numbers on his screen. This made no sense. Two people, working roughly seventy hours a week each, should have been breezing through the weekly paperwork and making more ... not threatening to fall behind. What the hell were those two boys doing all day? As Jaejoong's adjutant and the head of his house, Junsu had more than enough to do without babysitting the pair; that was why Changmin had been hired in the first place. And yet it seemed he was going to have to check in on them after all.
Walking into the office, he was almost relieved to see Changmin sitting at one desk, hard at work. And yet Jaejoong was absent. Strange. There was a stack of papers to prove the young man had been there earlier, but....
“Changmin-ah? Where's Jaejoong?”
“Jaejoong-sshi went outside for a minute. Something about needing a cigarette and some fresh air to think? I don't ... I don't really know, Junsu-sshi. He was acting ... strange all day. Pensive. No, more like ... distracted. Is ... is everything okay with Jiyeon-sshi?”
“To the best of my knowledge. Why, has he said something?”
“No, but ... well, it just seemed ... the most reasonable? He hasn't been able to focus, I just ... assumed. And with Jiyeon-sshi being his favorite....”
Junsu wasn't so sure he agreed with Changmin's assessment of Jiyeon's status, though he understood the young man's reasoning well enough. Jiyeon was the mother of Jaejoong's only child and he was still spending more nights with her - and Moonbin - than not. Which meant none of his other wives had even a fair chance at getting pregnant, thus furthering the illusion of favoritism. How much different would it be if Hibun hadn't miscarried?
“Junsu.... I wasn't expecting to see you so early.”
Junsu glanced sidelong at Jaejoong, wondering at what he could have sworn was a flicker of guilt. Was Jaejoong doing something about which Junsu wasn't to know? Though not much happened on the estate without Junsu knowing about it immediately, if not sooner. Which in turn made the working situation between these two that much more perplexing. It wasn't like Jaejoong was sneaking off to the hougong in the middle of the day for hours-long trysts. Neither was Changmin, for that matter, so what were these two doing all day?
“Oh I needed to get out of my own office for awhile, nothing terribly exotic. And I needed to check a few files against the hardcopy. Don't mind me.”
He could almost taste the confusion in the air, but no one said anything and he settled into his invented research. Unfortunately, to preserve his cover, he had to actually pay attention to what he was doing, rather than watching the two young men whose office he had invaded. He kept his ears open, but he wasn't hearing anything untoward, nothing particularly noteworthy at all, really. Maybe they were behaving because he was in the office with them? He forced down a grimace; he did not want to have to take up doing all his work from Jaejoong's office again.
“Jaejoong-sshi? Um, Jaejoong-sshi? You know, Jaejoong-sshi, maybe you should call it a day early? You haven't been able to focus all day anyway.”
Another flicker of guilt and then Jaejoong was shaking his head. “No, no, there's too much work to do. I'll be fine.”
When Junsu caught Changmin's eye, he could again nearly taste the mood in the air, the confusion and resignation the youngest of the three of them was feeling. Curious. Had this become a sort of daily routine then? Jaejoong losing focus, Changmin trying to send him home, Jaejoong refusing to leave ... so very easy to picture, really. Rearranging his supposed work, Junsu watched Jaejoong this time, watched as the younger man's focus drifted from the pages in front of him across the room to Changmin's desk. Junsu looked as well, saw nothing particularly interesting. Changmin was bent over his own work, diligently taking notes on something or other. And yet Jaejoong appear fascinated with what Changmin was doing. Either that or the younger man was just conveniently in Jaejoong's line of non-sight. A theory that Junsu was forced to discard when he noticed a hitch in Jaejoong's breathing, turned to see Changmin had slipped out of his jacket and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt.
Junsu's eyes narrowed as he watched Jaejoong and Changmin. It wasn't that warm in the office for the youngest to be feeling the need to strip off layers. Which meant he was doing it on purpose. That lying little....
“... dammit! 'Scuse me.”
Junsu watched Jaejoong hurry out of the room, noted Changmin's facade of obliviousness. He waited exactly long enough to be sure Jaejoong was out of earshot before approaching Changmin's desk. Balled fists landed hard on the desktop as Junsu loomed over the younger man, making no effort to hide his displeasure.
“Just what the hell kind of game do you think you're playing, Shim Changmin?”
“Eh?” and wide brown eyes blinked up at him, the image of innocence.
“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you're doing. If you want to keep this job, I suggest you stop it.”
“I'm not doing anything Jaejoong-sshi doesn't want,” Changmin grumbled, innocence replaced with defiance. “He's been staring at me for weeks. He likes it when I 'slip' and show him skin. What's it hurting? The work still gets done.”
“No, it doesn't. If you intend to seduce him, then fine, but do it on your own time. The company's not paying you overtime to flirt with the boss.”
“The company's not paying me overtime, period! You're the one that put me on salary!”
“Jaejoong put you on salary and if you don't like that you don't get paid overtime for the hours you put in, then I suggest you work harder at keeping the both of you to a regular work day. Or do I need to remove you from the house?”
“You ... you can't make me leave if Jaejoong-sshi wants me to stay,” Changmin stammered, but his tone and his eyes betrayed how uncertain he was.
“Watch me,” Junsu snarled before storming out of the room. Ungrateful little brat....
~*~*~
Junsu paced his office, glaring at everything except the man sitting across from his desk, because glaring at Kim Jaejoong never accomplished anything. Or at least not anything useful. Too cocky, too sure of himself. Too certain that Junsu couldn't possibly be mad at him for anything.
“How long has this been going on between the two of you?”
“What does it even matter? We're both adults, Junsu, it's not like either of us are doing anything wrong.”
“You're a married man. With children, no less!”
“Your point being? This isn't the dark ages, Junsu, no one's going to care that I have one more lover on the side, even if it is a man instead of a woman. Besides, isn't this what you wanted from the start? For me to pay attention to something other than work for a change?” Jaejoong challenged and for a brief moment Junsu was very tempted to wipe that smug little smirk right off the younger man's face.
“Move him back into the house, Junsu.”
“No.”
“Junsu....”
“No. You may be lord and master of the family, Kim Jaejoong, but you have also shown that you two can no longer work together here. He will have to do his work from the city office from now on. If you choose to join him there, then that is your right, but I will not move him back into the house so you can have a toy on hand all hours of the day.”
For a heartbeat or less, Jaejoong looked ready to protest, to try to force the issue. And then the moment passed, anger melting into submission, a bowed head and a murmur of “as you wish.”
~*~*~
Watching from his office balcony, Junsu couldn't help a raised eyebrow at the almost listless way Jaejoong sat atop his horse, returning from an afternoon ride with Yoochun. Strange. As he recalled, the daily rides had been Jaejoong's idea in the first place, something not unlike a genuine attempt at appeasing Junsu. What had gone wrong now?
He didn't have to wait long before Yoochun was letting himself into Junsu's office, a gift of late afternoon tea in his hands. Setting aside the work he wasn't doing anyway, Junsu joined the explorer, enjoying a lingering last moment of silence.
“All right, what's happened now?”
“He's bored, of course. He's already made his way through those of the male staff he finds even remotely attractive and you've seen how often he'll go out into the club scene. He even made a couple tries with some of the hougong staff, which, well ... let's just say I'm going to be good and bruised for the next couple of weeks thanks to his lack of a sense of humor.”
Junsu had to bite back a laugh of his own as he heard that, though he could certainly understand why Jaejoong would not be so impressed. So his little bird was restless and looking for a new partner? Well, that he could certainly fix.
~*~*~
Perhaps it was that Junsu had simply ... willfully forgotten how bad a sex slave market could get. Stupid of him, since he knew quite well that a rather significant percentage of such slavers relied entirely too much on kidnaping and preying on the poorest of the poor to keep their pens filled. And yet it always came as a shock to him, the lack of care such brutes offered. As if it never occurred to them that making their wares look more presentable would go far in fetching them better prices.
“Forget it. This market is useless,” he muttered to Heechul, turning away from the rancid squalor.
“I did try to warn you,” Heechul murmured. “Things have changed since you were here last. We really should listen to Lady Jiyeon's suggestion.”
A huffed sigh of acquiescence and Junsu directed their driver to the private auction house Jaejoong's first wife had quietly suggested after noticing her husband's changed habits. Junsu hadn't wanted to ask why Jiyeon knew where to buy male sex slaves; it wasn't his place, for one thing. So long as her information turned out to be good, he wouldn't worry about the details.
As it turned out, the auction house sold all manner of things, with slaves being only a small portion of the lots. And of the ten of those up for auction on this particular day, only three of them were specifically marked as sex slaves. All ten were held together, loosed in a single small room with only a couple of couches for seating and a large one-way window. The window was the only way to examine the slaves, as Junsu was made to understand, though the in-house computer system had files for each of them. Junsu supposed it said something about the reputation of the auction house that this was agreed as sufficient by all parties.
As for the slaves themselves, they all wore the same nondescript, utilitarian beige jumpsuit that looked uniformly unflattering on anyone. Each had a lot number pinned to his or her shoulder, each looked to be in far better health than any of the unfortunate souls he'd seen in the last market, and if the jumpsuit did nothing for the three marked sex slaves, at least their lot description files included scanned images. Not that Junsu had any interest in either of the two women.
“Shame lot #18AX24M isn't listed as a pleasure slave,” Heechul murmured, studying the tired and bored slaves intently. Junsu looked up to see which one his companion meant and frowned. That one looked rather dirty and underfed, keeping to himself in a corner, knees fetched up against his chest. Curious. What did Heechul see that Junsu didn't? He watched the slave awhile longer, ignoring the passing through of others as he tried to see past the surface. A glimmer of something and just as quickly the sense of seeing slipped through his fingers again like a trout.
“Yes, well, tell me what you think of the one that is listed,” he grumbled after another long moment of futility. “That's why you're here, remember?”
“Worthless. Joongie would think you mad for even trying to present him with that one. Bid on the one I picked.”
“He's not a pleasure slave, Heechul. He's not even rated for anything special at all, just general labor.”
“So?” and Junsu could tell just from the man's tone of voice that Heechul hadn't bothered to read any of the lot descriptions. Which wasn't necessarily a problem - one of Heechul's assets was his ability to read into a man's true heart, to see past the surface to what lay beneath - but it was ... somewhat frustrating?
“All right, all right.” He'd do things Heechul's way. He'd just have to be careful not to let the man's ego get too out of hand. If that was even still possible.
~*~*~
Heechul had seemed convinced that they'd gotten the new slave at a bargain price, even with the bidding war in which Junsu had found himself quite stuck, unable to concede while Heechul kept poking at him and raising his paddle for him. Junsu had his doubts. Less than half of what he'd allotted to their shopping trip, but far more than he felt comfortable putting down on a general labor slave who had nothing more going for him than Heechul's word.
“Two weeks and I could have him so trained you'd never know he hadn't already been a pleasure slave when you bought him,” Heechul purred. That, of course, was out of the question and the blond knew it. “I'll need three days at least to be sure he's house-broken. Five if you want him to be anything like pliant to Joongie's perversions.”
“Five days and not an hour more. Or I'm taking his price out of your paycheck.”
“Such things you say. Five days, I promise, and I'll have him delivered to the estate. You won't even recognize him.”
Junsu snorted at that. Heechul only failed to keep his promises one in five times, he supposed the odds were in his favor. Maybe not much, but....
~*~*~
Five days, as promised. Junsu wouldn't have gone so far as to say he didn't recognize the slave Heechul had made him buy, but the young man was definitely much improved. Proper clothes, proper grooming, and a demure, standardized black collar around the man's neck. Well, at least Heechul hadn't been tasteless enough to have a leash attached. At the same time, it was very obvious (to Junsu, at least) that Heechul had had his claws into the man. Black hair had been lightened and cut short, the tips bleached. The shirt looked more like a mesh net, the sleeves coming down long enough that the holes at the hemline slipped over his fingers. Something that looked like the distressed remains of a vest tried to compensate for the lack of proper shirt, but the overly tight pants only underscored the sexualization of the outfit and not even the fact that everything was pure white could stop that.
“Heechul....”
“What? No point in presenting him as other than what he is.”
Junsu rolled his eyes, beckoning the young man forward. The clothes were appropriate for a pleasure slave, but not adequate to the chill still lingering in the early spring morning air. Really, he wondered where Heechul's head went sometimes. The new acquisition was obviously completely uncomfortable, tugging at the sleeves of the mesh shirt as if they had any ability to cover him better. At least he could take some solace in knowing that Jaejoong was unlikely to see the intended gift before Junsu could correct Heechul's attempt at helpfulness.
So he was more than a bit disturbed to notice fading bruises on the young man's back as he waited for him to undress.
“What's this, ... what is your name?”
“This slave is called Yunho, Sir,” the young man murmured, eyes on the clothes he was trying clumsily to fold. Junsu stilled restless hands.
“Where did you get those bruises, Yunho? They don't look like a handler's bullwhip,” he said, noting the flinch as he spoke the other's name.
“This slave's former Master did not like its attitude.”
Junsu wasn't sure which was more distressing, the continued passive voice or the substitution of a neutral object pronoun. That would definitely have to stop, Jaejoong would never accept Yunho like this. But he worried how he could repair the damage done to the boy. To have a slave caned quite possibly the same day he was sent to the auction house spoke to a level of sadism and disregard that was ... chilling. Releasing Yunho's hands, he caught the young man's head before the slave could completely prostrate himself, cupping sallow cheeks and forcing the kneeling man to look up at him. It didn't take any talent at all to see the growing distress in Yunho's eyes, and that twisted the knife a little sharper as well.
“Close your eyes,” he soothed, a smile crossing his lips at how quickly Yunho's lids snapped shut. “Release worry and think of nothing.”
A tiny frown creased Yunho's forehead and Junsu tsked in mild disapproval.
“Release worry, Yunho. Do not try to control your thoughts, bring nothing to mind, send nothing away, let them flow as they will,” Junsu insisted, lips brushing away the other's frown. This one was indeed going to take time.
~*~*~
“What the hell am I supposed to do with a personal slave?” Jaejoong demanded.
“Hello, Junsu, are you working on anything? Can I interrupt you for a moment? I'm sorry I haven't talked to you about anything but work in the last few weeks.”
Jaejoong frowned at him, then a hint of color appeared on his cheeks as he realized the first thing Junsu had done when Jaejoong came into the room was to hit the mute on his comm.
“I'm sorry, Junsu. I'll come back later.”
“You're supposed to use him however you like, JaeJae. That's what personal slaves are for.”
The young lord's blush darkened and he nodded, silently backing out of the office.
~*~*~
Once more Junsu found himself watching from his office balcony, this time as Jaejoong took tea and a meeting in the rear garden. Hotel executives could be so paranoid, so certain that in the garden they were safe from being overheard by any of Jaejoong's untrustworthy household employees. It amused Junsu, not only because the entire meeting was being recorded so he could view it later, but also because they seemed quite content to completely ignore the slave standing just behind Jaejoong's chair, unobtrusively tending to his master. Even more amusing because Jaejoong insisted that Yunho not look like a stereotypical slave; Yunho was, in fact, covered from head to toe, only his face and hands exposed. Bleached denim coveralls, the top halves hanging down beneath a baggy white cable knit sweater, a knit pageboy cap (also white) and a white knit scarf created an old-fashioned, demure, and not at all slave-like appearance. The scarf hid Yunho's collar completely, so perhaps they thought he was a trusted retainer? Who knew....
They made a striking pair of contrasts, Yunho in all white, Jaejoong in formal business black. Complimentary opposites. Though Yunho spent nearly every moment, waking or sleeping, at Jaejoong's side, Junsu knew Jaejoong had yet to bed his slave. Doted over him, bought him an entire wardrobe of clothes and accessories, and often treated him more like a trusted friend or lover than a slave, but without the sex. It was ... curious.
“So this is what has been keeping my Joongie so occupied of late....”
“Jiyeon-sshi....”
“I suppose I should be jealous that this new ploy of yours has made him more content than I've seen him in months. There's something about losing to a man that makes it ... if not less unpalatable, then at least more manageable,” the woman said, offering Junsu a tiny, sad smile. Such a strange thing to say. Junsu had no illusions that Jaejoong's current attitude towards Yunho was anything more than a phase; the man was too fickle for it to be anything else. A few more weeks and this phase would be over, Junsu would be back at square one all over again.
~*~*~
Weeks became months, spring melted into summer, summer faded into autumn, then chilled into winter, and still Jaejoong kept Yunho by his side, if not in his bed. Which was not at all what Junsu had been expecting. Jaejoong's phases had rarely lasted more than a couple of months, his toys cast aside before one season could change to the next. But there was something entirely different about Yunho. Since accepting the slave, Jaejoong had worked less, spent more time with his children, and even suggested taking vacations to the other homes in his holdings.
“He's growing up,” Heechul murmured, chin resting on Junsu's shoulder while arms wrapped around Junsu's waist from behind him. “Congratulations, Appa. I had a feeling that one would settle him, balance him.”
“Don't sing your own praises too loudly, Heechul,” Junsu mumbled, but he had known the blond far too long and far too well for him to take offense at the other's egotism anymore.
“Hmm, maybe I should go back and find someone for you? You've been alone for so long now....”
“Hardly,” Junsu replied with a snort. Yunho was fussing in his own, quiet, not-quite-fussing sort of way, twitching at Jaejoong's clothes to smooth away invisible imperfections.
“Enough, Yunnie. It's only a couple of days. I'm sure I'll be fine.”
“Yes, Master,” the other murmured, barely audible from Junsu's vantage point above them. This would be the first time the two would be separated by more than the length of the ballroom and watching this leave-taking reminded Junsu a little too much of the first (and last) time he had parted from his first love.
“I would take you with me if I could, Yunnie,” Jaejoong soothed, brushing a kiss over Yunho's lips. Junsu wasn't sure which was more surprising, the kiss or Yunho's lack of reaction to it. It was obvious the two had no idea they were being observed. Had Jaejoong started making a habit of stealing kisses from his personal slave? A moment to wonder what else might be hidden under baggy white and Junsu blushed. It wasn't his place to be thinking such things. Besides, as of that morning, Yunho was still sleeping on a pallet in a corner of Jaejoong's bedroom.
“Do you suppose he covers him from head to toe like that to hide the lover's bites?”
“It's winter, you idiot,” Junsu hissed, reaching up to swat the head still resting on his shoulder. “And Yunho dresses himself.”
“Should I be disturbed that you know that?” Heechul mumbled, his frown audible. Junsu opted not to respond, instead watching as Hyesoon timidly approached her own husband. She had gained standing in the hougong, but she was still the fifth wife, still filled with doubts of her own worth to her husband.
“Thank you for agreeing to come with me, Husband,” she murmured, bowing low.
“Such things you say,” Jaejoong scolded, waiting for her to straighten before cupping her cheek and compelling her to meet his gaze. “You are my wife, Hyesoon-sshi. Where else would I be?”
Her eyes slid sidelong to Yunho, a less than subtle suggestion, and in an instant, Jaejoong was clouding up with anger, a storm rumbling and threatening to explode over their heads.
And then Yunho's hand was resting in the small of Jaejoong's back, pressed gently flat. That easily the anger faded away to nothing, making Junsu's blood run cold.
“See, Appa? This is why you listen to me.”
Junsu said nothing, only watched and tried to convince himself it was nothing. Coincidence. But it wasn't working. His eyes knew the truth: Jaejoong had Chosen.
~*~*~
“You've been spying on me, Junsu. Ever since I got back from that funeral, you've been watching me. I want to know why and I want it to stop.”
“It's not just you, Jae. And it's not stopping until I'm sure you've dealt with what you've done.”
“No. It stops now. You may run my household, but it is my household. I am the lord and master here.”
“And I am your father.”
A moment of silence and then Jaejoong smiled, patronizing and completely not understanding.
“I do love you, Junsu, you practically raised me, but my father died a long time ago.”
“Look at my face and tell me how old you would think I am.”
“Eh? Well ... middle twenties, maybe thirty, I suppose, but ... that just means you've aged well,” the younger man said, shrugging off Junsu's question.
“I haven't aged in centuries, JaeJae,” Junsu sighed. “It hasn't been easy, but a few more years and the regen research will sweep away those sorts of questions, possibly for good. With luck, you will never have to face the sacrifices I've had to make, the lives and loves I've had to leave behind to keep from being discovered. Won't have to construct lies to be able to watch your own son grow into an adult.”
Jaejoong's confidence faded with his smile. “How can you say such things so seriously? Is this some sort of twisted joke? Yoochun's going to jump out from behind that curtain with a camera, isn't he?”
Too late for regrets, for wondering if it would have been better to tell Jaejoong the truth from the first. Too late to change what had already been done. Fire danced in the palm of Junsu's cupped hand, as if his hand were an oil lamp. Jaejoong's eyes widened, and then he was frowning, passing his hand through it.
“OUCH! Dammit, that hurt!”
“Fire usually does when you stick your hand in it,” Junsu replied with a dry chuckle.
“Well how was I supposed to know it wasn't a trick?” his son pouted, arms crossing over his chest. “What kind of person can just summon real fire in his hand like that? For all I knew it was just some holo trick.”
“Fox spirits often have an affinity for fire,” he replied, smirking in spite of himself. “Someday, when I'm sure you're mature enough to handle it, I'll start teaching you how to use your own magic.”
“What makes you think I can't handle it right now? It's not like I'm a little kid anymore, Junsu.”
“You could at least show me respect as your father if you're going to ask me to teach you magic, JaeJae.”
Jaejoong flushed and ducked his head, but Junsu could tell his son wasn't at all certain he believed any of it. He might have brought Heechul into it if he'd thought it would help anything, but considering Jaejoong all but hated Heechul.... No, putting his sons in the same room together would just be asking for more trouble he didn't need.
“It's just.... I don't know how I'm supposed to believe this ... this ... this whatever this is.”
“Then keep your doubts,” Junsu said with a slight shrug. “If things continue on as they have been, in a few more weeks you won't be able to doubt me any longer.”
Jaejoong was obviously confused, but there really wasn't anything Junsu could say to prove his words, to prove that Jaejoong was descended from a fox deity. Time would bring its own proof. To be honest, Junsu wasn't sure which he would prefer - the proof only the passage of time could bring, or the more immediate possibility that Yunho would suffer if Jaejoong didn't finish what he had started.
I should have told him the truth from the start.
You really think that would have worked? You really think he would have believed you?
Junsu sighed, shook the voice of doubt from his mind. What would be, would be.
~*~*~
Even knowing it would happen did not making watching it any easier. Watching Yunho weaken, fall prey to an illness that had even the doctors stumped.... It would be so easy to just tell Jaejoong what was wrong, but.... Would his son believe him? He doubted it. So instead he volunteered to take a turn sitting at Yunho's bedside. If this doctor found it strange that such care was being shown to a mere slave, he at least had the wit not to say anything about it.
“You know,” the doctor started conversationally, in that tone of voice that said there was anything but casual meaning to what he was about to say, “it's strange, but he seems ... better when you're here.”
Junsu smothered a sigh, swallowed back the urge to snap back that of course Yunho was better when he was there. The source of Yunho's illness wasn't his body, it was Jaejoong. Junsu's magic couldn't hope to fix things if Jaejoong kept on as he was, but at least he knew enough to help Yunho through it until his son got his head on straight.
“Junsu-sshi,” Yunho murmured once the doctor was gone, his voice unnaturally thin, little more than a breath of air that only fox senses could hear clearly. “I'm dying, aren't I?”
“It won't come to that,” he murmured, squeezing the young man's hand gently.
“But the doctors ... they have no idea what's wrong with me.”
“Doctors don't always know everything.”
“Then how....”
“Trust me, Yunho,” Junsu replied, 'leaning on his son's chosen until sleep pulled him into the land of dreams. He could only do so much, take care of him for so long. In the end, Jaejoong was going to have to do the work of repairing the damage he had caused himself.
~*~*~
“Help me, Junsu, please.”
The tears that threatened in Jaejoong's eyes said more than any words.
“I'm losing him, Junsu. Please, if you really do know what's wrong, know magic to help, please...”
Junsu carded fingers through short, half-bleached hair, but it was to Jaejoong that his words were directed: “I can't fix this, JaeJae. Make it easier, yes, but.... You're the only one who can make him better.”
“M-me? I ... I don't understand....”
“You Chose him, JaeJae,” Junsu said, eyes turning sharply on his son. “You have done this. Finish it.” And Junsu had no intension of being in the same room while he did.
“F-finish it? Finish what? Junsu!”
“You Chose him,” Junsu repeated, pausing at the door. “You made him yours, wanted him for your mate. Finish what you've started.”
He could feel Jaejoong gaping at him as he left the room. Had Jaejoong really not understood his own desires? Well, no, that was a ridiculous question; of course he hadn't. At least now Jaejoong might actually channel his intentions properly, give Yunho something more than the superficial affections that weren't nearly enough to satisfy a mate.
~*~*~
For all that Junsu had told himself he wasn't going to spy on his son, worry had pushed him to it anyway. An entire night spent in silent observation, worry only slowly fading away as Jaejoong stole into Yunho's bed, spent the night curled around him and speaking softly of his plans for the future, for when Yunho was better again. More trips he wanted to take, places he wanted to see, things he wanted to do. Unspoken promises to love, take care of, and cherish Yunho for the rest of his life started mending the torn bond between them.
The doctor never could provide a reasonable explanation for why Yunho's health returned almost completely to normal within a couple of days. Or even what had been wrong in the first place. And if Jaejoong still didn't look entirely convinced that he believed that Junsu was his immortal father (or the attendant implication that he himself was an immortal), he at least seemed willing to reconsider it seriously. It was progress, at least, and Junsu was content with that.
So when he walked into his office that morning, several weeks later, to see Yunho sitting in front of his desk, he was immediately wary. For Yunho to be anywhere but at Jaejoong's side was such a rare occurrence, but to see him sitting there, worrying at a strip of black leather with restless hands....
“Yunho?”
“Junsu-sshi....” Hurt and confusion warred in Yunho's eyes, crowded together on his face and in his aura with such strength that Junsu found himself crouched before the young man in a heartbeat, catching his hands to still them and offering him strength.
“What's happened?”
“He.... He said ... he said if ... if you l-love something,” Yunho stammered, the hurt even thicker in his voice, roughened with unshed tears. “If you love something, you ... you have to ... have to let it go.”
Junsu startled, slowly lifting one hand to see just what it was Yunho was holding in his hands. The black leather of a slave's collar. Slowly, almost not wanting to see, Junsu tugged the white scarf away from Yunho's neck, but the thick wool hid only a few fading marks of passion. Of all the things Jaejoong could have done, he hadn't expected this.
“I ... I don't.... I haven't ever.... What am I supposed to do, Junsu-sshi?”
“What do you want to do, Yunho?” he asked, quiet, almost emotionless.
“I ... I want to be with Mas- ... with Jaejoong-sshi.”
“I thought you'd say that,” he murmured, allowing a small smile to cross his lips. Slipping the leather collar from loose fingers, Junsu set it back around Yunho's neck. A tiny bit of magic sealed the buckle in place.
“Go back to your Master, Yunho. He needs you.” Whether he realizes it or not.
~*~*~
He knew Jaejoong was in a particularly bad mood when the afternoon sky abruptly darkened and threatened to storm. So much for his son inheriting his fire affinity. But perhaps this was safer. Water was easier to clean, at least.
“You! How dare you do this?”
Junsu sat back in his desk chair, offering no interruption to Jaejoong's anger.
“What gives you the right to interfere in this? He was my slave, you gave him to me. He was a free man! And then you go and ... and do that! How dare you?! Answer me, dammit!!”
“A man can choose to make himself a slave, freeborn or not,” Junsu scolded, cool and refusing to rise to Jaejoong's anger. “This was what he wished. He came to me, asked for this. I only sealed the buckle to keep you from making the same mistake twice.”
“But....”
“He loves you, JaeJae,” Junsu murmured, fondness leaking into his tone in spite of himself. “Go back to him.”
“But, I don't ...,” Jaejoong mumbled, the storm breaking as confusion disrupted the tide of anger.
“He loves you more than anything. Go back to him.”
Junsu smiled as he watched Jaejoong nod to himself, mumble an apology for bursting in, and then leave.
If you love something, set it free. If it returns to you, then you know it's yours completely and forever.
Author: Cross (xmachina_writes)
Band/Pairing: DBSK, implied JaeMin, JaeHo, several Jae-het pairings,
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, het, Jaejoong het
Word Count: 8302
Summary: Junsu can't help but worry, watching Jaejoong as he does. But finding an answer to the problem isn't as easy as he could wish.
Comments: And now that I've had to work my tail off (found out some tragic stuff a couple hours after I made my last post, it really impacted everything) and am now catching a break.... Something I wrote a long time ago! Well, maybe not that long, but long enough. But it was for a contest and then results took awhile to be announced and then Life in general, so.... Whatever. It's here now. It's also a bit ... different. Well, the point of the contest was to write something with a twist, after all. And no, the fact that Jae is sleeping with women in this fic is not the twist. XD
I've left a couple of words untranslated from Chinese, for specific reasons. You should be able to figure out the general meaning from context, though.
~*~*~
In plain words, the truth of the matter was Kim Jaejoong worked entirely too much. Of course, it was expected that the heir should work hard - the company's reputation and continued success depended upon it. And Jaejoong's successes benefitted the whole household, from supporting additional wives to buying more land for the family estates, which was then reflected in the prestige of the family name. And all of that, in turn, fueled greater success in the company's trading contracts. None of which stopped Junsu from worrying, watching days turn to weeks, then weeks into months, nights growing later and later until he wondered if Jaejoong was getting any sleep at all.
“Jaejoong-sshi, perhaps you should put down the books for awhile. You've not been to the hougong in weeks, it's not healthy to keep yourself apart like this.”
“You say that as if anything in the hougong could have changed in that time. I'm fine, Junsu. I'll even go to bed after I've finished with this contract, I promise.”
Junsu sighed but bowed to fate. If he was going to lure Jaejoong away from the business books for awhile, he was going to have to find a more effective bait. Perhaps another wife....
~*~*~
At twenty-five, most men in Jaejoong's caste were still considering who they might like for a first wife, pretending or else outright ignoring that their parents would have far more to say about it than they themselves.
Jaejoong's father had been lost only a few months after he had been born, his mother living just long enough to see her only child named an adult and given charge of the company before passing on. He had five wives of his own now, two of whom were even pregnant - amid hushed whispers wondering how he could be the father, as infrequently as he spent any time in the hougong. That he was wealthy enough to support them all spoke highly to the success of his family's trading company ... and Jaejoong's abilities as that company's CEO.
Five wives. Junsu shook his head. Jaejoong had yet to even meet the newest one; as a ploy to get the man to stop working for awhile, she had failed entirely, though it was no fault of hers. Rather it was that Jaejoong had gone completely jaded, loudly declaring - in the privacy of his own apartment, with only Junsu as witness - that he saw no point in these continued marriages. Especially since he knew Junsu was arranging them as a ploy to get him to work less, which was, to quote the young master, completely ridiculous as he only worked so much because no one else did.
“Maybe you need to try a different track?”
“What do you know about it?” Junsu muttered, thumbing through the stacks of folders on his desk. For all his skills and abilities, his value to the household, Yoochun was both unmarried and a foreigner. His understanding of their society would only ever go so far.
“All the traveling I've done and nowhere do they have a saying 'fifth time's the charm',” the younger man countered from his sprawl on Junsu's chaise. “If you can't distract him with women, maybe it's time to try something else. A hunt, perhaps? Does he even do anything like that?”
“No, which shows how much you've been around lately.” But Yoochun might well have a point, as much as it pained Junsu to admit it. Perhaps it was time to arrange another shopping trip.
~*~*~
Junsu applauded himself for his restraint; an entire day of his lord's complaints - too hot, too cold, too bright, too dim, too tired, too hungry, too bored - and he had only grimaced twice and lost his temper once. He hadn't even made any shopkeepers cry, which was an improvement over the last time he and Jaejoong had gone on a shopping trip. Of course that time, Jaejoong had actually made several purchases. This trip seemed to have been nothing but a string of complaints, usually coupled with demands to know why he even had to be involved and didn't Junsu realize how much work he was missing because of this ridiculousness?
All and all, it was a miracle he hadn't strangled Jaejoong hours ago.
“You work too hard,” Soo-hae soothed, massaging de-stressing oils into the tense muscles of his shoulders, and though he huffed a frustrated noise into his pillow, he could not argue with the courtesan's words. It was a poorly kept secret indeed that Jaejoong barely managed to show the minimum respect to his own hougong, though he had at least, a month after the marriage, finally sent for his fifth wife. Once. He was going to have to have another talk with the boy, explain again the perils of playing so loosely with expectations. If someone were to get the idea that his attitude towards his own wives was a reflection of Jaejoong's thoughts towards tradition and family ... it would be worse than disastrous for his business.
“Someone has to. The boy would work himself to death if I didn't do something to prevent it,” Junsu muttered.
“The national opera is coming to the Pavilion as part of their tour next week. Perhaps that would help?”
Jaejoong was hardly known for his love of opera, but perhaps it would be a good idea to force him to attend the performance. With one of his wives on his arm. Junsu didn't even care which one the man chose, really. Any would do equally well at this point, so long as he went out and was seen showing the woman proper deference and honor. It was something Jaejoong didn't do often enough, spending so much time as he did working. His fourth wife, perhaps, as an apology for missing her birthday. Or the fifth, apologizing for not treating her better. Or the first, a last outing before her pregnancy kept her effectively housebound. The second was out of the question - she hated opera. And as for the third ... too soon for her to be seen again. The last thing Jaejoong needed was a night out ruined by the substrata of gossip mongers.
~*~*~
Junsu stared into the deep bowl of the snifter in his hand, watching the amber liquid within swirl and cling to the glass. The gods hated him ... or at the very least derived entirely too much pleasure from his suffering. Just when it had looked like things were finally going well - if Jaejoong hadn't necessarily been enjoying himself, he had at least been suffering in silence and presenting a pleasantly civilized front.
To be fair - he supposed - no one had realized Yi-che was someone who spoke, really. In the hougong, she rarely strung together more than five words in a day, let alone in one sitting. The thought that she would be someone who would prove to be almost pathologically incapable of keeping silent while out in society had simply never occurred to anyone. And while she had, thankfully, shown enough restraint not to try speaking over the actual performance, there had been no silencing her, short of Jaejoong clamping his hand over her mouth, the rest of the time they were out.
“Never again,” Jaejoong had declared, and Junsu was quite in agreement. Being an incessant chatterbox wasn't grounds for the dissolution of a marriage, thus Jaejoong was at current still stuck with his fourth wife, but kept to the hougong - where she had once again turned silent - she could at least do no further damage.
“It was a good idea,” Yoochun mused, studying his own serving of brandy. “It might have even worked with one of the other ones. For one night anyway. But that's all we're really looking for at this point, right? One night, maybe a day after, and then back to the usual?”
“Sadly, yes,” Junsu sighed. “More would, of course, be better, but at this point I'll take anything I can get. Before the boy works himself into an early death.”
“Well, what about a party? Never need much reason to be hosting one of those,” Yoochun suggested. “But if you did, midsummer's coming. An outdoor celebration? He's got the acreage for it on the Huan estate. Really make a big deal of it, make it something that lasts a couple of days? He's more than old enough now to host a Xiazhi feast.”
“Old enough, yes, but such things are rarely hosted by someone with five wives.”
“Because everyone else in the high castes with that many wives is three times older than he is. And after the last two scandals, Yi-che-sshi and Hibun-sshi barely even half count.”
Junsu huffed but stopped trying to argue with Yoochun. He didn't want the man convincing him that this was somehow a good idea. It wasn't. In any way, shape, or form. A Xiazhi feast was meant for young people, and in that sense, Jaejoong was a perfect host. More than perfect, with the amount of land he had available, since such midsummer festivals were meant to include a hunt as well as the usual feasting and ... camaraderie of young people plied with too much drink. It wasn't ... exactly a fertility festival, but midsummer was a time of courtship and, well.... More than a few young men had come out of such things with a betrothal forced upon them. It wasn't seemly for a man already married five times to be hosting such a thing.
But that didn't mean Jaejoong couldn't host a more appropriate, subdued midsummer gala. They would just leave certain persons at home.
~*~*~
This time, Junsu could barely muster the energy to feel resigned about the whole thing. Perhaps because there was no definition of the word 'wrong' that could be made to fit to the birth of Jaejoong's first child. Only a matter of poor timing. Certainly no one was blaming Jiyeon - she hadn't been due for another two months. Moonbin was a beautiful child, quite healthy and with a very developed set of lungs.
So in a sense, the party had actually been quite the success. A man's first child was always an accomplishment, a moment of pride and satisfaction. And Jaejoong was throwing himself wholly into the role of new father, taking entire days off to spend with his wife and son. Better still, all questions of paternity had died completely - Moonbin was very obviously Jaejoong's child.
Jaejoong was spending so much time in the hougong now that they had, in fact, needed to hire on another accountant to take up the slack, something that had not hurt Junsu's feelings in the least. Changmin was still young, but he had a definite gift for numbers and sifting through the minute details of trading contracts. And unlike Jaejoong, Changmin felt no need to take work home with him, content to leave it at the office at the end of the day. Junsu had every intension of keeping Changmin on the payroll even after the newness of being a father wore off and Jaejoong returned to his previous ways, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Changmin's work ethic would rub off on the other. It was worth a try.
~*~*~
Strange how quickly a couple of months could pass, how readily the charm and joy of a new child could fade. Junsu didn't remember losing his fascination with his own child so quickly. Even now, in fact, he spent stupid amounts of time preoccupied with thoughts of his own son. Everything he had ever seen on the subject led him to believe that such was typical of fathers - that one spent the rest of one's life worrying over one's children, whether they needed it or not.
But not Jaejoong. He still spent more nights at the hougong than not, but they tended to be short nights and only Donghae's iron refusal to let anything that even smelled remotely of work into the hougong had kept the young master from reverting completely to type.
“Is that all you're bringing with you, Changmin-ah?” Junsu asked, taking polite notice of the distinct lack of luggage the young man had with him. Not that much was required - the household was supplying him a furnished room, meals, access to the staff of servants, and Junsu was so hopeful this might straighten out Jaejoong that he was willing to requisition almost anything Changmin might decide he needed.
“Changmin-ah? What's this? Junsu? What's going on?”
“Boss-sshi. Did ... didn't Junsu-sshi explain?”
“I did, yes, but Jaejoong-sshi has a bad habit of not paying attention to me. I told you, Jaejoong-sshi, Changmin-ah is moving into the east wing. With as closely and as much as the two of you work together, it is more efficient this way.” He wouldn't mention to either of them his secret agenda.
“Ah, yes, now I remember,” and Junsu congratulated himself on suppressing a snort at Jaejoong's lie. “I suppose this means I'll be seeing you at dinner?”
“Ah, well, um....”
“Yes. And I will have those star charts and Yoochun-ah ready for the both of you in the north solarium after dinner, as you requested, Jaejoong-sshi.”
“Thank you, Junsu. If you'll excuse me....”
Junsu nodded, watching Jaejoong walk away for a beat before picking up the bulk of Changmin's meager bags and heading for the east wing. No sense in hanging around the foyer wasting time.
“Wa-wait, Junsu-sshi, what do you mean, star charts after dinner? Boss-sshi isn't actually meaning for us to work more after dinner ... is he??”
“You should try calling him by name. Jaejoong. He responds better when you use his name. He hears a title and his brain flips over into Lord of the Domain mode. With his name, he might actually take advice,” Junsu said, completely ignoring the scandalized look on Changmin's face. Of course it would take time for such a suggestion to actually bear fruit, but he might as well start putting the thought in Changmin's head now, rather than waiting.
“Junsu-sshi....”
“You are welcome to roam the entirety of the estate, make use of any of the facilities ... so long as it's not interfering in your work. But I'm sure you and Jaejoong will find your own version of a work schedule readily enough. There is an office in the north wing, but Jaejoong is equally prone to using the solaria and gardens.”
“What, any of the facilities? Even the -?”
“Anything. This is, after all, now your home as well. Please feel free to make appropriate use of it.”
A certain light sparkled in Changmin's eyes and Junsu smothered a smile. This was going to work.
~*~*~
Junsu glared at the numbers on his screen. This made no sense. Two people, working roughly seventy hours a week each, should have been breezing through the weekly paperwork and making more ... not threatening to fall behind. What the hell were those two boys doing all day? As Jaejoong's adjutant and the head of his house, Junsu had more than enough to do without babysitting the pair; that was why Changmin had been hired in the first place. And yet it seemed he was going to have to check in on them after all.
Walking into the office, he was almost relieved to see Changmin sitting at one desk, hard at work. And yet Jaejoong was absent. Strange. There was a stack of papers to prove the young man had been there earlier, but....
“Changmin-ah? Where's Jaejoong?”
“Jaejoong-sshi went outside for a minute. Something about needing a cigarette and some fresh air to think? I don't ... I don't really know, Junsu-sshi. He was acting ... strange all day. Pensive. No, more like ... distracted. Is ... is everything okay with Jiyeon-sshi?”
“To the best of my knowledge. Why, has he said something?”
“No, but ... well, it just seemed ... the most reasonable? He hasn't been able to focus, I just ... assumed. And with Jiyeon-sshi being his favorite....”
Junsu wasn't so sure he agreed with Changmin's assessment of Jiyeon's status, though he understood the young man's reasoning well enough. Jiyeon was the mother of Jaejoong's only child and he was still spending more nights with her - and Moonbin - than not. Which meant none of his other wives had even a fair chance at getting pregnant, thus furthering the illusion of favoritism. How much different would it be if Hibun hadn't miscarried?
“Junsu.... I wasn't expecting to see you so early.”
Junsu glanced sidelong at Jaejoong, wondering at what he could have sworn was a flicker of guilt. Was Jaejoong doing something about which Junsu wasn't to know? Though not much happened on the estate without Junsu knowing about it immediately, if not sooner. Which in turn made the working situation between these two that much more perplexing. It wasn't like Jaejoong was sneaking off to the hougong in the middle of the day for hours-long trysts. Neither was Changmin, for that matter, so what were these two doing all day?
“Oh I needed to get out of my own office for awhile, nothing terribly exotic. And I needed to check a few files against the hardcopy. Don't mind me.”
He could almost taste the confusion in the air, but no one said anything and he settled into his invented research. Unfortunately, to preserve his cover, he had to actually pay attention to what he was doing, rather than watching the two young men whose office he had invaded. He kept his ears open, but he wasn't hearing anything untoward, nothing particularly noteworthy at all, really. Maybe they were behaving because he was in the office with them? He forced down a grimace; he did not want to have to take up doing all his work from Jaejoong's office again.
“Jaejoong-sshi? Um, Jaejoong-sshi? You know, Jaejoong-sshi, maybe you should call it a day early? You haven't been able to focus all day anyway.”
Another flicker of guilt and then Jaejoong was shaking his head. “No, no, there's too much work to do. I'll be fine.”
When Junsu caught Changmin's eye, he could again nearly taste the mood in the air, the confusion and resignation the youngest of the three of them was feeling. Curious. Had this become a sort of daily routine then? Jaejoong losing focus, Changmin trying to send him home, Jaejoong refusing to leave ... so very easy to picture, really. Rearranging his supposed work, Junsu watched Jaejoong this time, watched as the younger man's focus drifted from the pages in front of him across the room to Changmin's desk. Junsu looked as well, saw nothing particularly interesting. Changmin was bent over his own work, diligently taking notes on something or other. And yet Jaejoong appear fascinated with what Changmin was doing. Either that or the younger man was just conveniently in Jaejoong's line of non-sight. A theory that Junsu was forced to discard when he noticed a hitch in Jaejoong's breathing, turned to see Changmin had slipped out of his jacket and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt.
Junsu's eyes narrowed as he watched Jaejoong and Changmin. It wasn't that warm in the office for the youngest to be feeling the need to strip off layers. Which meant he was doing it on purpose. That lying little....
“... dammit! 'Scuse me.”
Junsu watched Jaejoong hurry out of the room, noted Changmin's facade of obliviousness. He waited exactly long enough to be sure Jaejoong was out of earshot before approaching Changmin's desk. Balled fists landed hard on the desktop as Junsu loomed over the younger man, making no effort to hide his displeasure.
“Just what the hell kind of game do you think you're playing, Shim Changmin?”
“Eh?” and wide brown eyes blinked up at him, the image of innocence.
“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you're doing. If you want to keep this job, I suggest you stop it.”
“I'm not doing anything Jaejoong-sshi doesn't want,” Changmin grumbled, innocence replaced with defiance. “He's been staring at me for weeks. He likes it when I 'slip' and show him skin. What's it hurting? The work still gets done.”
“No, it doesn't. If you intend to seduce him, then fine, but do it on your own time. The company's not paying you overtime to flirt with the boss.”
“The company's not paying me overtime, period! You're the one that put me on salary!”
“Jaejoong put you on salary and if you don't like that you don't get paid overtime for the hours you put in, then I suggest you work harder at keeping the both of you to a regular work day. Or do I need to remove you from the house?”
“You ... you can't make me leave if Jaejoong-sshi wants me to stay,” Changmin stammered, but his tone and his eyes betrayed how uncertain he was.
“Watch me,” Junsu snarled before storming out of the room. Ungrateful little brat....
~*~*~
Junsu paced his office, glaring at everything except the man sitting across from his desk, because glaring at Kim Jaejoong never accomplished anything. Or at least not anything useful. Too cocky, too sure of himself. Too certain that Junsu couldn't possibly be mad at him for anything.
“How long has this been going on between the two of you?”
“What does it even matter? We're both adults, Junsu, it's not like either of us are doing anything wrong.”
“You're a married man. With children, no less!”
“Your point being? This isn't the dark ages, Junsu, no one's going to care that I have one more lover on the side, even if it is a man instead of a woman. Besides, isn't this what you wanted from the start? For me to pay attention to something other than work for a change?” Jaejoong challenged and for a brief moment Junsu was very tempted to wipe that smug little smirk right off the younger man's face.
“Move him back into the house, Junsu.”
“No.”
“Junsu....”
“No. You may be lord and master of the family, Kim Jaejoong, but you have also shown that you two can no longer work together here. He will have to do his work from the city office from now on. If you choose to join him there, then that is your right, but I will not move him back into the house so you can have a toy on hand all hours of the day.”
For a heartbeat or less, Jaejoong looked ready to protest, to try to force the issue. And then the moment passed, anger melting into submission, a bowed head and a murmur of “as you wish.”
~*~*~
Watching from his office balcony, Junsu couldn't help a raised eyebrow at the almost listless way Jaejoong sat atop his horse, returning from an afternoon ride with Yoochun. Strange. As he recalled, the daily rides had been Jaejoong's idea in the first place, something not unlike a genuine attempt at appeasing Junsu. What had gone wrong now?
He didn't have to wait long before Yoochun was letting himself into Junsu's office, a gift of late afternoon tea in his hands. Setting aside the work he wasn't doing anyway, Junsu joined the explorer, enjoying a lingering last moment of silence.
“All right, what's happened now?”
“He's bored, of course. He's already made his way through those of the male staff he finds even remotely attractive and you've seen how often he'll go out into the club scene. He even made a couple tries with some of the hougong staff, which, well ... let's just say I'm going to be good and bruised for the next couple of weeks thanks to his lack of a sense of humor.”
Junsu had to bite back a laugh of his own as he heard that, though he could certainly understand why Jaejoong would not be so impressed. So his little bird was restless and looking for a new partner? Well, that he could certainly fix.
~*~*~
Perhaps it was that Junsu had simply ... willfully forgotten how bad a sex slave market could get. Stupid of him, since he knew quite well that a rather significant percentage of such slavers relied entirely too much on kidnaping and preying on the poorest of the poor to keep their pens filled. And yet it always came as a shock to him, the lack of care such brutes offered. As if it never occurred to them that making their wares look more presentable would go far in fetching them better prices.
“Forget it. This market is useless,” he muttered to Heechul, turning away from the rancid squalor.
“I did try to warn you,” Heechul murmured. “Things have changed since you were here last. We really should listen to Lady Jiyeon's suggestion.”
A huffed sigh of acquiescence and Junsu directed their driver to the private auction house Jaejoong's first wife had quietly suggested after noticing her husband's changed habits. Junsu hadn't wanted to ask why Jiyeon knew where to buy male sex slaves; it wasn't his place, for one thing. So long as her information turned out to be good, he wouldn't worry about the details.
As it turned out, the auction house sold all manner of things, with slaves being only a small portion of the lots. And of the ten of those up for auction on this particular day, only three of them were specifically marked as sex slaves. All ten were held together, loosed in a single small room with only a couple of couches for seating and a large one-way window. The window was the only way to examine the slaves, as Junsu was made to understand, though the in-house computer system had files for each of them. Junsu supposed it said something about the reputation of the auction house that this was agreed as sufficient by all parties.
As for the slaves themselves, they all wore the same nondescript, utilitarian beige jumpsuit that looked uniformly unflattering on anyone. Each had a lot number pinned to his or her shoulder, each looked to be in far better health than any of the unfortunate souls he'd seen in the last market, and if the jumpsuit did nothing for the three marked sex slaves, at least their lot description files included scanned images. Not that Junsu had any interest in either of the two women.
“Shame lot #18AX24M isn't listed as a pleasure slave,” Heechul murmured, studying the tired and bored slaves intently. Junsu looked up to see which one his companion meant and frowned. That one looked rather dirty and underfed, keeping to himself in a corner, knees fetched up against his chest. Curious. What did Heechul see that Junsu didn't? He watched the slave awhile longer, ignoring the passing through of others as he tried to see past the surface. A glimmer of something and just as quickly the sense of seeing slipped through his fingers again like a trout.
“Yes, well, tell me what you think of the one that is listed,” he grumbled after another long moment of futility. “That's why you're here, remember?”
“Worthless. Joongie would think you mad for even trying to present him with that one. Bid on the one I picked.”
“He's not a pleasure slave, Heechul. He's not even rated for anything special at all, just general labor.”
“So?” and Junsu could tell just from the man's tone of voice that Heechul hadn't bothered to read any of the lot descriptions. Which wasn't necessarily a problem - one of Heechul's assets was his ability to read into a man's true heart, to see past the surface to what lay beneath - but it was ... somewhat frustrating?
“All right, all right.” He'd do things Heechul's way. He'd just have to be careful not to let the man's ego get too out of hand. If that was even still possible.
~*~*~
Heechul had seemed convinced that they'd gotten the new slave at a bargain price, even with the bidding war in which Junsu had found himself quite stuck, unable to concede while Heechul kept poking at him and raising his paddle for him. Junsu had his doubts. Less than half of what he'd allotted to their shopping trip, but far more than he felt comfortable putting down on a general labor slave who had nothing more going for him than Heechul's word.
“Two weeks and I could have him so trained you'd never know he hadn't already been a pleasure slave when you bought him,” Heechul purred. That, of course, was out of the question and the blond knew it. “I'll need three days at least to be sure he's house-broken. Five if you want him to be anything like pliant to Joongie's perversions.”
“Five days and not an hour more. Or I'm taking his price out of your paycheck.”
“Such things you say. Five days, I promise, and I'll have him delivered to the estate. You won't even recognize him.”
Junsu snorted at that. Heechul only failed to keep his promises one in five times, he supposed the odds were in his favor. Maybe not much, but....
~*~*~
Five days, as promised. Junsu wouldn't have gone so far as to say he didn't recognize the slave Heechul had made him buy, but the young man was definitely much improved. Proper clothes, proper grooming, and a demure, standardized black collar around the man's neck. Well, at least Heechul hadn't been tasteless enough to have a leash attached. At the same time, it was very obvious (to Junsu, at least) that Heechul had had his claws into the man. Black hair had been lightened and cut short, the tips bleached. The shirt looked more like a mesh net, the sleeves coming down long enough that the holes at the hemline slipped over his fingers. Something that looked like the distressed remains of a vest tried to compensate for the lack of proper shirt, but the overly tight pants only underscored the sexualization of the outfit and not even the fact that everything was pure white could stop that.
“Heechul....”
“What? No point in presenting him as other than what he is.”
Junsu rolled his eyes, beckoning the young man forward. The clothes were appropriate for a pleasure slave, but not adequate to the chill still lingering in the early spring morning air. Really, he wondered where Heechul's head went sometimes. The new acquisition was obviously completely uncomfortable, tugging at the sleeves of the mesh shirt as if they had any ability to cover him better. At least he could take some solace in knowing that Jaejoong was unlikely to see the intended gift before Junsu could correct Heechul's attempt at helpfulness.
So he was more than a bit disturbed to notice fading bruises on the young man's back as he waited for him to undress.
“What's this, ... what is your name?”
“This slave is called Yunho, Sir,” the young man murmured, eyes on the clothes he was trying clumsily to fold. Junsu stilled restless hands.
“Where did you get those bruises, Yunho? They don't look like a handler's bullwhip,” he said, noting the flinch as he spoke the other's name.
“This slave's former Master did not like its attitude.”
Junsu wasn't sure which was more distressing, the continued passive voice or the substitution of a neutral object pronoun. That would definitely have to stop, Jaejoong would never accept Yunho like this. But he worried how he could repair the damage done to the boy. To have a slave caned quite possibly the same day he was sent to the auction house spoke to a level of sadism and disregard that was ... chilling. Releasing Yunho's hands, he caught the young man's head before the slave could completely prostrate himself, cupping sallow cheeks and forcing the kneeling man to look up at him. It didn't take any talent at all to see the growing distress in Yunho's eyes, and that twisted the knife a little sharper as well.
“Close your eyes,” he soothed, a smile crossing his lips at how quickly Yunho's lids snapped shut. “Release worry and think of nothing.”
A tiny frown creased Yunho's forehead and Junsu tsked in mild disapproval.
“Release worry, Yunho. Do not try to control your thoughts, bring nothing to mind, send nothing away, let them flow as they will,” Junsu insisted, lips brushing away the other's frown. This one was indeed going to take time.
~*~*~
“What the hell am I supposed to do with a personal slave?” Jaejoong demanded.
“Hello, Junsu, are you working on anything? Can I interrupt you for a moment? I'm sorry I haven't talked to you about anything but work in the last few weeks.”
Jaejoong frowned at him, then a hint of color appeared on his cheeks as he realized the first thing Junsu had done when Jaejoong came into the room was to hit the mute on his comm.
“I'm sorry, Junsu. I'll come back later.”
“You're supposed to use him however you like, JaeJae. That's what personal slaves are for.”
The young lord's blush darkened and he nodded, silently backing out of the office.
~*~*~
Once more Junsu found himself watching from his office balcony, this time as Jaejoong took tea and a meeting in the rear garden. Hotel executives could be so paranoid, so certain that in the garden they were safe from being overheard by any of Jaejoong's untrustworthy household employees. It amused Junsu, not only because the entire meeting was being recorded so he could view it later, but also because they seemed quite content to completely ignore the slave standing just behind Jaejoong's chair, unobtrusively tending to his master. Even more amusing because Jaejoong insisted that Yunho not look like a stereotypical slave; Yunho was, in fact, covered from head to toe, only his face and hands exposed. Bleached denim coveralls, the top halves hanging down beneath a baggy white cable knit sweater, a knit pageboy cap (also white) and a white knit scarf created an old-fashioned, demure, and not at all slave-like appearance. The scarf hid Yunho's collar completely, so perhaps they thought he was a trusted retainer? Who knew....
They made a striking pair of contrasts, Yunho in all white, Jaejoong in formal business black. Complimentary opposites. Though Yunho spent nearly every moment, waking or sleeping, at Jaejoong's side, Junsu knew Jaejoong had yet to bed his slave. Doted over him, bought him an entire wardrobe of clothes and accessories, and often treated him more like a trusted friend or lover than a slave, but without the sex. It was ... curious.
“So this is what has been keeping my Joongie so occupied of late....”
“Jiyeon-sshi....”
“I suppose I should be jealous that this new ploy of yours has made him more content than I've seen him in months. There's something about losing to a man that makes it ... if not less unpalatable, then at least more manageable,” the woman said, offering Junsu a tiny, sad smile. Such a strange thing to say. Junsu had no illusions that Jaejoong's current attitude towards Yunho was anything more than a phase; the man was too fickle for it to be anything else. A few more weeks and this phase would be over, Junsu would be back at square one all over again.
~*~*~
Weeks became months, spring melted into summer, summer faded into autumn, then chilled into winter, and still Jaejoong kept Yunho by his side, if not in his bed. Which was not at all what Junsu had been expecting. Jaejoong's phases had rarely lasted more than a couple of months, his toys cast aside before one season could change to the next. But there was something entirely different about Yunho. Since accepting the slave, Jaejoong had worked less, spent more time with his children, and even suggested taking vacations to the other homes in his holdings.
“He's growing up,” Heechul murmured, chin resting on Junsu's shoulder while arms wrapped around Junsu's waist from behind him. “Congratulations, Appa. I had a feeling that one would settle him, balance him.”
“Don't sing your own praises too loudly, Heechul,” Junsu mumbled, but he had known the blond far too long and far too well for him to take offense at the other's egotism anymore.
“Hmm, maybe I should go back and find someone for you? You've been alone for so long now....”
“Hardly,” Junsu replied with a snort. Yunho was fussing in his own, quiet, not-quite-fussing sort of way, twitching at Jaejoong's clothes to smooth away invisible imperfections.
“Enough, Yunnie. It's only a couple of days. I'm sure I'll be fine.”
“Yes, Master,” the other murmured, barely audible from Junsu's vantage point above them. This would be the first time the two would be separated by more than the length of the ballroom and watching this leave-taking reminded Junsu a little too much of the first (and last) time he had parted from his first love.
“I would take you with me if I could, Yunnie,” Jaejoong soothed, brushing a kiss over Yunho's lips. Junsu wasn't sure which was more surprising, the kiss or Yunho's lack of reaction to it. It was obvious the two had no idea they were being observed. Had Jaejoong started making a habit of stealing kisses from his personal slave? A moment to wonder what else might be hidden under baggy white and Junsu blushed. It wasn't his place to be thinking such things. Besides, as of that morning, Yunho was still sleeping on a pallet in a corner of Jaejoong's bedroom.
“Do you suppose he covers him from head to toe like that to hide the lover's bites?”
“It's winter, you idiot,” Junsu hissed, reaching up to swat the head still resting on his shoulder. “And Yunho dresses himself.”
“Should I be disturbed that you know that?” Heechul mumbled, his frown audible. Junsu opted not to respond, instead watching as Hyesoon timidly approached her own husband. She had gained standing in the hougong, but she was still the fifth wife, still filled with doubts of her own worth to her husband.
“Thank you for agreeing to come with me, Husband,” she murmured, bowing low.
“Such things you say,” Jaejoong scolded, waiting for her to straighten before cupping her cheek and compelling her to meet his gaze. “You are my wife, Hyesoon-sshi. Where else would I be?”
Her eyes slid sidelong to Yunho, a less than subtle suggestion, and in an instant, Jaejoong was clouding up with anger, a storm rumbling and threatening to explode over their heads.
And then Yunho's hand was resting in the small of Jaejoong's back, pressed gently flat. That easily the anger faded away to nothing, making Junsu's blood run cold.
“See, Appa? This is why you listen to me.”
Junsu said nothing, only watched and tried to convince himself it was nothing. Coincidence. But it wasn't working. His eyes knew the truth: Jaejoong had Chosen.
~*~*~
“You've been spying on me, Junsu. Ever since I got back from that funeral, you've been watching me. I want to know why and I want it to stop.”
“It's not just you, Jae. And it's not stopping until I'm sure you've dealt with what you've done.”
“No. It stops now. You may run my household, but it is my household. I am the lord and master here.”
“And I am your father.”
A moment of silence and then Jaejoong smiled, patronizing and completely not understanding.
“I do love you, Junsu, you practically raised me, but my father died a long time ago.”
“Look at my face and tell me how old you would think I am.”
“Eh? Well ... middle twenties, maybe thirty, I suppose, but ... that just means you've aged well,” the younger man said, shrugging off Junsu's question.
“I haven't aged in centuries, JaeJae,” Junsu sighed. “It hasn't been easy, but a few more years and the regen research will sweep away those sorts of questions, possibly for good. With luck, you will never have to face the sacrifices I've had to make, the lives and loves I've had to leave behind to keep from being discovered. Won't have to construct lies to be able to watch your own son grow into an adult.”
Jaejoong's confidence faded with his smile. “How can you say such things so seriously? Is this some sort of twisted joke? Yoochun's going to jump out from behind that curtain with a camera, isn't he?”
Too late for regrets, for wondering if it would have been better to tell Jaejoong the truth from the first. Too late to change what had already been done. Fire danced in the palm of Junsu's cupped hand, as if his hand were an oil lamp. Jaejoong's eyes widened, and then he was frowning, passing his hand through it.
“OUCH! Dammit, that hurt!”
“Fire usually does when you stick your hand in it,” Junsu replied with a dry chuckle.
“Well how was I supposed to know it wasn't a trick?” his son pouted, arms crossing over his chest. “What kind of person can just summon real fire in his hand like that? For all I knew it was just some holo trick.”
“Fox spirits often have an affinity for fire,” he replied, smirking in spite of himself. “Someday, when I'm sure you're mature enough to handle it, I'll start teaching you how to use your own magic.”
“What makes you think I can't handle it right now? It's not like I'm a little kid anymore, Junsu.”
“You could at least show me respect as your father if you're going to ask me to teach you magic, JaeJae.”
Jaejoong flushed and ducked his head, but Junsu could tell his son wasn't at all certain he believed any of it. He might have brought Heechul into it if he'd thought it would help anything, but considering Jaejoong all but hated Heechul.... No, putting his sons in the same room together would just be asking for more trouble he didn't need.
“It's just.... I don't know how I'm supposed to believe this ... this ... this whatever this is.”
“Then keep your doubts,” Junsu said with a slight shrug. “If things continue on as they have been, in a few more weeks you won't be able to doubt me any longer.”
Jaejoong was obviously confused, but there really wasn't anything Junsu could say to prove his words, to prove that Jaejoong was descended from a fox deity. Time would bring its own proof. To be honest, Junsu wasn't sure which he would prefer - the proof only the passage of time could bring, or the more immediate possibility that Yunho would suffer if Jaejoong didn't finish what he had started.
I should have told him the truth from the start.
You really think that would have worked? You really think he would have believed you?
Junsu sighed, shook the voice of doubt from his mind. What would be, would be.
~*~*~
Even knowing it would happen did not making watching it any easier. Watching Yunho weaken, fall prey to an illness that had even the doctors stumped.... It would be so easy to just tell Jaejoong what was wrong, but.... Would his son believe him? He doubted it. So instead he volunteered to take a turn sitting at Yunho's bedside. If this doctor found it strange that such care was being shown to a mere slave, he at least had the wit not to say anything about it.
“You know,” the doctor started conversationally, in that tone of voice that said there was anything but casual meaning to what he was about to say, “it's strange, but he seems ... better when you're here.”
Junsu smothered a sigh, swallowed back the urge to snap back that of course Yunho was better when he was there. The source of Yunho's illness wasn't his body, it was Jaejoong. Junsu's magic couldn't hope to fix things if Jaejoong kept on as he was, but at least he knew enough to help Yunho through it until his son got his head on straight.
“Junsu-sshi,” Yunho murmured once the doctor was gone, his voice unnaturally thin, little more than a breath of air that only fox senses could hear clearly. “I'm dying, aren't I?”
“It won't come to that,” he murmured, squeezing the young man's hand gently.
“But the doctors ... they have no idea what's wrong with me.”
“Doctors don't always know everything.”
“Then how....”
“Trust me, Yunho,” Junsu replied, 'leaning on his son's chosen until sleep pulled him into the land of dreams. He could only do so much, take care of him for so long. In the end, Jaejoong was going to have to do the work of repairing the damage he had caused himself.
~*~*~
“Help me, Junsu, please.”
The tears that threatened in Jaejoong's eyes said more than any words.
“I'm losing him, Junsu. Please, if you really do know what's wrong, know magic to help, please...”
Junsu carded fingers through short, half-bleached hair, but it was to Jaejoong that his words were directed: “I can't fix this, JaeJae. Make it easier, yes, but.... You're the only one who can make him better.”
“M-me? I ... I don't understand....”
“You Chose him, JaeJae,” Junsu said, eyes turning sharply on his son. “You have done this. Finish it.” And Junsu had no intension of being in the same room while he did.
“F-finish it? Finish what? Junsu!”
“You Chose him,” Junsu repeated, pausing at the door. “You made him yours, wanted him for your mate. Finish what you've started.”
He could feel Jaejoong gaping at him as he left the room. Had Jaejoong really not understood his own desires? Well, no, that was a ridiculous question; of course he hadn't. At least now Jaejoong might actually channel his intentions properly, give Yunho something more than the superficial affections that weren't nearly enough to satisfy a mate.
~*~*~
For all that Junsu had told himself he wasn't going to spy on his son, worry had pushed him to it anyway. An entire night spent in silent observation, worry only slowly fading away as Jaejoong stole into Yunho's bed, spent the night curled around him and speaking softly of his plans for the future, for when Yunho was better again. More trips he wanted to take, places he wanted to see, things he wanted to do. Unspoken promises to love, take care of, and cherish Yunho for the rest of his life started mending the torn bond between them.
The doctor never could provide a reasonable explanation for why Yunho's health returned almost completely to normal within a couple of days. Or even what had been wrong in the first place. And if Jaejoong still didn't look entirely convinced that he believed that Junsu was his immortal father (or the attendant implication that he himself was an immortal), he at least seemed willing to reconsider it seriously. It was progress, at least, and Junsu was content with that.
So when he walked into his office that morning, several weeks later, to see Yunho sitting in front of his desk, he was immediately wary. For Yunho to be anywhere but at Jaejoong's side was such a rare occurrence, but to see him sitting there, worrying at a strip of black leather with restless hands....
“Yunho?”
“Junsu-sshi....” Hurt and confusion warred in Yunho's eyes, crowded together on his face and in his aura with such strength that Junsu found himself crouched before the young man in a heartbeat, catching his hands to still them and offering him strength.
“What's happened?”
“He.... He said ... he said if ... if you l-love something,” Yunho stammered, the hurt even thicker in his voice, roughened with unshed tears. “If you love something, you ... you have to ... have to let it go.”
Junsu startled, slowly lifting one hand to see just what it was Yunho was holding in his hands. The black leather of a slave's collar. Slowly, almost not wanting to see, Junsu tugged the white scarf away from Yunho's neck, but the thick wool hid only a few fading marks of passion. Of all the things Jaejoong could have done, he hadn't expected this.
“I ... I don't.... I haven't ever.... What am I supposed to do, Junsu-sshi?”
“What do you want to do, Yunho?” he asked, quiet, almost emotionless.
“I ... I want to be with Mas- ... with Jaejoong-sshi.”
“I thought you'd say that,” he murmured, allowing a small smile to cross his lips. Slipping the leather collar from loose fingers, Junsu set it back around Yunho's neck. A tiny bit of magic sealed the buckle in place.
“Go back to your Master, Yunho. He needs you.” Whether he realizes it or not.
~*~*~
He knew Jaejoong was in a particularly bad mood when the afternoon sky abruptly darkened and threatened to storm. So much for his son inheriting his fire affinity. But perhaps this was safer. Water was easier to clean, at least.
“You! How dare you do this?”
Junsu sat back in his desk chair, offering no interruption to Jaejoong's anger.
“What gives you the right to interfere in this? He was my slave, you gave him to me. He was a free man! And then you go and ... and do that! How dare you?! Answer me, dammit!!”
“A man can choose to make himself a slave, freeborn or not,” Junsu scolded, cool and refusing to rise to Jaejoong's anger. “This was what he wished. He came to me, asked for this. I only sealed the buckle to keep you from making the same mistake twice.”
“But....”
“He loves you, JaeJae,” Junsu murmured, fondness leaking into his tone in spite of himself. “Go back to him.”
“But, I don't ...,” Jaejoong mumbled, the storm breaking as confusion disrupted the tide of anger.
“He loves you more than anything. Go back to him.”
Junsu smiled as he watched Jaejoong nod to himself, mumble an apology for bursting in, and then leave.
If you love something, set it free. If it returns to you, then you know it's yours completely and forever.