Satisfying (1/2)
Title: Satisfying Part 1 (sequel to The Right Guy)
Author: anoukinparis
Pairing: YunJae
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: A year passes - a year that makes new memories for both Yunho and Jaejoong, even though they're both unwilling to let go of the ones that mean the most. Another chance meeting forces them to finally confront their feelings and all the complications that come with them.
A/N: I know this took me five months to write omfg T____T But in those five months I've put so much effort into this (obviously, cause the story is too long for one post mothertrucker), and I wanted to finish it for myself just as much as I wanted to for all the readers who enjoyed The Right Guy so much. SO. Rather late than never, right?? xD lmao right. I just hope that at least a few people will remember this sequel ^^;
Working on With the Sun update next!! (As well as a special project *winks*)
Comments are love ♥ //hugs//
Sastisfying
Oh, why carry all those heavy dreams
When the only one I really want is you?
Jaejoong snuck a peek at the man he had been fucking for the past three months, watching him as he stood in front of the small bathroom mirror and combed fingers through wet hair. He didn't mind the way Jaejoong liked to watch him get ready every morning. In broken French he had tried to explain it, but all he could really get across with clarity was the word calming. The Frenchman had understood that much, though, and that was good enough for Jaejoong.
As soon as he lit up the relaxation process was nearly complete, Jaejoong pulling the cigarette away from his lips as he rested his head against the tub. Sometimes it felt as if he was pressed against the cool bricks of a bar.
“Le petit déjeuner?”
Jaejoong nodded wordlessly out the door, toward the kitchen table. “Don't eat all the toast,” he threatened back in Korean, and the other knew that tone well enough to send him a smile. Nearly a year in Paris, and all he had to show for it was this man, this apartment, a mess of sloped floorboards and empty glasses and gauzy white curtains. Some days he woke up in love with the space. Some days it felt more like a stranger than the person who shared his bed. Not bad. Just unsatisfying.
Unsatisfying. Jaejoong wondered how he could go about explaining that one, sucking on the cigarette thoughtfully. There were too many things that fit that description.
Still perched on the tiled floor when Remy called out to him. There was no need to answer back, not when the door gave a resounding clap and everything fell into sudden silence, as if Jaejoong had been alone the entire time. It took a long while to peel himself off the floor, even longer to get dressed, smudge the last of his friends into an ash tray. He walked back into the bathroom, studying the long, dirty blond hair that reflected back in the mirror. He pushed it off of his face, fisting the strands, staring hard until he saw the dark roots bleeding through. It was something Remy always did. He had asked Jaejoong once if he would get rid of the blond, and Jaejoong answered that he couldn't.
An old friend likes my hair this color, he had whispered into Remy's ear, and I couldn't disappoint that person if they ever came to visit, now could I?
~
Yunho could still hear his mother's frantic questions. Staring at his bags and the motel's small bed, they all came flooding back. Why? For how long? Do you know what you're doing? And then that flustered command - You better know what the hell you're doing. He couldn't give her the answers that she wanted. He didn't have any answers, in fact.
All he knew for sure was that Paris was going to be his muse for a while, would help him get some more shots. Maybe enough to land another spread. He wasn't expecting anything more. Wouldn't let himself even go there. So Yunho took his camera and snapped a few shots out of the room's window, allowing himself to let go of everything clouding his mind. To just feel it.
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. And then on Thursday, Yunho saw something through the lens that literally made the world come to a stop. Or maybe it was just that beating in his chest. Or maybe they felt synonymous in that second, and all he could do was stand and watch as familiar blond hair flicked across a familiar cheek, resting against a familiar hand as familiar eyes stared down at a cup at a table across the street.
There was no mistake who it was. He was right where he said he would be. He was in Paris. The logic should have aligned, but it didn't. All those dusty expectations were suddenly shoved right in front of his face, as if taunting him, sneering at him. Of course this was what you really wanted, right?
Yunho wasn't sure how long he stared at him before his feet began to push him forward. He had nothing prepared to say, nothing for seven solid seconds before Jaejoong glanced up, only to do a double take back to his face. Slowly turning around in his chair, both just staring. They were still gray.
“Hey, stranger.”
And that smile even better than what Yunho remembered.
~
“What?”
“You don't find this a bit ironic?”
“I find this incredibly ironic, actually. Not that you'd probably believe me,” Yunho paused once a steaming cup was placed in front of him, the scent just as strong and layered as the looks he kept receiving from across the small table, “but I didn't necessarily come to Paris to find you.”
“See, if you hadn't added the 'necessarily' I would have been offended.” Pause. “And no, I don't really believe you.”
A grin sneaked past Yunho's lips and he pressed his lips to the drink, finally plucking up the courage to return the other's gaze. Warmth assaulted all of his senses, and he gladly blamed the coffee for that. “It's good.”
“It's why I come here every morning.”
Jaejoong still kept up that searching stare. How drastically different he appeared without the smoke curling in his eyes or the distracting suitors or the flashy clothes that had hugged his body, caressed him in every which way when he walked away nearly a year ago. It was still so clear in Yunho's mind.
Now it was just battered jeans, just a shirt, just him. Maybe they weren't even his own clothes, Yunho wondered as an after thought - bitter after taste. His fingertips were starting to itch at the sight, touching his camera just as Jaejoong combed a hand through some unruly strands and pulled a knee to his chest.
His eyes followed Yunho's. “Such a tourist,” he laughed.
“This is for work, Blondie.” Jaejoong sent him a choice glare as he splayed his arm across the table, snatching the camera from Yunho's lap with surprising speed. The retaliation only brought another smile. “See you still like playing with things that aren't yours.”
“See you still don't mind,” Jaejoong mocked back, not breaking his observation of the camera, turning it around in his hands before he finally found the power button. “So you're a photographer now?”
“Of sorts.”
“The bar must be weeping.” The shutter opened; Jaejoong snapped a shot of the street. “You were cute in that outfit you always wore. Ah, that tie.” The camera slowly angled back to Yunho, Jaejoong tilting his head along with it, as if he was wearing a shimmering black mask. “Doesn't explain why you're in Paris, though.”
Yunho didn't back down from the unblinking stare of the camera, but those words were complicated. “It's a long story,” he finally answered. The camera clicked again, this time in his own direction. “A lot's happened since you left.”
Jaejoong's voice was abrupt. “Have you found the right guy yet?”
“Have you?”
It wasn't the same harmless quip as before. The tease had somehow slipped away with time, and Yunho could feel the shift in the way those words felt on his tongue.
Jaejoong didn't answer right away. First he placed the camera down carefully on the flowered tablecloth, fingering the thick black strap. Then he pulled back. “No. Not here.”
“And you were so anxious to come.”
“Still waiting to hear why you're here.”
“Like I said, long story.”
“You think I'm busy? I was just at a fucking book store by myself for three hours before you saw me.” The cut in Jaejoong's voice left as suddenly as it appeared, Yunho watching him quietly. He knew that that would probably be the closest thing to I'm loney he'd ever hear from Jaejoong.
I am, too, he wanted to say back. I missed you. I don't know why, but I missed you.
But Jaejoong got there first, as always. “Where you staying?”
“Just a motel down the street.”
The smile returned as if nothing had happened at all. “Let's take a walk then.” Before Yunho could exactly formulate an answer, Jaejoong leaned across the table, raised a thumb to the corner of his mouth, and wiped away a stray drop of coffee. Didn't say anything more as he licked it back off his skin and stood up to leave. It happened just as quickly and casually as that - they were right back to where they had left off.
“Something's different,” Yunho eventually spoke his thoughts once they started walking, trailing speculative eyes down the blond from top to bottom. “Did you quit smoking?”
Jaejoong only laughed. “You always did give me too much credit.”
~
He was sprawled on Yunho's bed, nose deep in a black leather photo album. Yunho had never shown it to anyone, not even his family. He wasn't sure how they'd take it, if they'd scoff at the idea that he could honestly make a profession out of it or that he might actually want to. But Jaejoong was a different kind of person - his opinion actually mattered.
“You really took all these?”
“Don't seem so surprised.” Yunho half-chided, pushing the other's legs aside so he could climb onto the small bed as well, hovering over Jaejoong's back. He looked down at a picture of two men dancing with each other, electric, colored lights crackling, stretching around their bodies. “That was at the club we-”
“I remember,” Jaejoong murmured, peering in even closer at the picture.
He flipped the next page to find a man striking a match. Wet asphalt and neon shoes. A kiss, spontaneous and blurred from movement or the effects of alcohol or both. A young girl racing down the street, unaware, laughing with eyes lit on something out of the frame. “These are beautiful,” he finally commented after flipping through the entire album, pausing at practically every picture. Yunho didn't say anything, embarrassed to admit he was embarrassed by that reaction. “Really,” he stressed, almost defensively, twisting around to look up at Yunho. “Why didn't you ever tell me about this?”
“I think most of our conversations revolved around you, if I'm not mistaken. And I took all these after you left.”
But Jaejoong continued to press. “Still. You never even mentioned liking photography.”
“It's just something I always messed around with, nothing serious. After you showed me that club, I guess it...kinda inspired me, in a way.” Using that word made Yunho feel vulnerable - he might as well have said that Jaejoong himself had inspired him. Maybe that would have been closer to the truth. Probably. But the truth felt too heavy, so he promptly steered the topic away.
“Anyways, some guys at the bar convinced me to send these into a magazine, and they accepted them. I guess they felt I had a fresh perspective.”
“Not such a long story after all,” Jaejoong smiled a feline smile, rolling over on his back so he could look up at Yunho better, arms raising above his head in a lazy stretch. “I leave for a year and you become a big shot photographer, name in the headlines, jet setting off to Paris...”
“Hardly,” Yunho laughed, following the line of that spread body. The room fell into a curious silence, Jaejoong's fingers moving from the veil of his hair to climb up Yunho's shirt, still casual, barely skimming the surface.
“They really are beautiful.” The smile softened, almost disappeared. Gaze sparked accusingly. “You shouldn't need me to tell you that.”
“They're alright.”
Laugh. “Still too nice for your own good. You haven't changed at all.”
Yunho still couldn't really believe this was happening. He only assumed the whirlwind of meeting Jaejoong was just that - a whirlwind. Something that wouldn't occur again. Something out of chance, a coincidence. Yunho didn't know what this was, but it definitely didn't feel like a coincidence. It just felt like life was slapping him in the face all over again.
“Why do you like taking pictures?”
“Because they last,” Yunho answered simply.
Neither one of them had looked away yet, Jaejoong's hand slowly tightening around the collar of the other's shirt. “You should take a picture of me sometime,” he sighed airily, and suddenly those eyes were the same liquid tease from before - nothing had changed, nothing at all, he was right. And it was only growing. “You should visit my place.”
“Very subtle,” Yunho observed wryly, only to fall into another grin as Jaejoong began tugging him down to the bed. Yunho didn't stop him. “How long have you been waiting to do this?”
“I don't want to think about that right now.”
Jaejoong inclined his head to cover the rest of the distance, touching the corner of his lips, barely. Yunho felt his breath, the way he took his time kissing each corner of his mouth, and he didn't stop his own arm from snaking around Jaejoong's waist. Staying.
Perfect, almost. But he still had to ask. “You're with someone...aren't you?”
The man currently necking him answered without missing a beat. “In a way.”
Yunho stilled, hand lingering between fabric and skin as his gaze traveled further along Jaejoong's expression. It was honest, had nothing to hide, but those gray eyes looked almost exasperated as they caught Yunho's hesitation, that prickling sensation in his fingertips that made him want to pull back. Made him not even want to get involved, just like last time.
Jaejoong's voice slinked easily through his thoughts. “It's not like you weren't with someone before.”
“I also wasn't throwing myself at you before.”
This time Jaejoong paused, both hovering between a strange state of want and tension, neither one backing down from the other.
“Weren't you?” he finally challenged, just before Yunho decided to slide back off of his body, moving to sit near the edge of the bed. He faced his back to Jaejoong and didn't say anything to the low sigh from behind him, didn't do anything when Jaejoong rustled underneath the sheets and flopped his head on the lumpy hotel pillow.
“Listen.”
“Forget about it, it's your business.”
“I had to have something to keep me occupied here. You honestly think I'd live all on my own? I'd drive myself crazy. You know me better than that.”
“You give me headaches, that's what I know,” Yunho retorted, a little less than half-joking as he felt something nudge him in the behind. Jaejoong's foot, and he didn't stop provoking until Yunho turned back around and caught it with his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Like now.”
“I'm sorry I'm bad for your health. You should come back to bed and rest.”
It didn't surprise Yunho at all that that voice was enough to coax him back in, to disregard the annoying, desperate itch in his thoughts - what was surprising was that Jaejoong kept his distance. Touching him only when Yunho's eyelids fell, the pressure against his hair light, and Jaejoong whispered to him that he really did look tired. I'll stay until you fall asleep.
A few hours later Yunho drifted back, gradually, and looking around the foggy haze of his room he noticed Jaejoong was true to his word - nowhere to be seen. Then he found a piece of newspaper left haphazardly atop the other pillow, pulling the makeshift note to him and reading the scarce words over and over until he memorized them.
Here's my address. I expect you tomorrow. Bring your camera.
-----> Not the end!! Continue on with Part 2~
Author: anoukinparis
Pairing: YunJae
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: A year passes - a year that makes new memories for both Yunho and Jaejoong, even though they're both unwilling to let go of the ones that mean the most. Another chance meeting forces them to finally confront their feelings and all the complications that come with them.
A/N: I know this took me five months to write omfg T____T But in those five months I've put so much effort into this (obviously, cause the story is too long for one post mothertrucker), and I wanted to finish it for myself just as much as I wanted to for all the readers who enjoyed The Right Guy so much. SO. Rather late than never, right?? xD lmao right. I just hope that at least a few people will remember this sequel ^^;
Working on With the Sun update next!! (As well as a special project *winks*)
Comments are love ♥ //hugs//
Sastisfying
Oh, why carry all those heavy dreams
When the only one I really want is you?
Jaejoong snuck a peek at the man he had been fucking for the past three months, watching him as he stood in front of the small bathroom mirror and combed fingers through wet hair. He didn't mind the way Jaejoong liked to watch him get ready every morning. In broken French he had tried to explain it, but all he could really get across with clarity was the word calming. The Frenchman had understood that much, though, and that was good enough for Jaejoong.
As soon as he lit up the relaxation process was nearly complete, Jaejoong pulling the cigarette away from his lips as he rested his head against the tub. Sometimes it felt as if he was pressed against the cool bricks of a bar.
“Le petit déjeuner?”
Jaejoong nodded wordlessly out the door, toward the kitchen table. “Don't eat all the toast,” he threatened back in Korean, and the other knew that tone well enough to send him a smile. Nearly a year in Paris, and all he had to show for it was this man, this apartment, a mess of sloped floorboards and empty glasses and gauzy white curtains. Some days he woke up in love with the space. Some days it felt more like a stranger than the person who shared his bed. Not bad. Just unsatisfying.
Unsatisfying. Jaejoong wondered how he could go about explaining that one, sucking on the cigarette thoughtfully. There were too many things that fit that description.
Still perched on the tiled floor when Remy called out to him. There was no need to answer back, not when the door gave a resounding clap and everything fell into sudden silence, as if Jaejoong had been alone the entire time. It took a long while to peel himself off the floor, even longer to get dressed, smudge the last of his friends into an ash tray. He walked back into the bathroom, studying the long, dirty blond hair that reflected back in the mirror. He pushed it off of his face, fisting the strands, staring hard until he saw the dark roots bleeding through. It was something Remy always did. He had asked Jaejoong once if he would get rid of the blond, and Jaejoong answered that he couldn't.
An old friend likes my hair this color, he had whispered into Remy's ear, and I couldn't disappoint that person if they ever came to visit, now could I?
~
Yunho could still hear his mother's frantic questions. Staring at his bags and the motel's small bed, they all came flooding back. Why? For how long? Do you know what you're doing? And then that flustered command - You better know what the hell you're doing. He couldn't give her the answers that she wanted. He didn't have any answers, in fact.
All he knew for sure was that Paris was going to be his muse for a while, would help him get some more shots. Maybe enough to land another spread. He wasn't expecting anything more. Wouldn't let himself even go there. So Yunho took his camera and snapped a few shots out of the room's window, allowing himself to let go of everything clouding his mind. To just feel it.
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. And then on Thursday, Yunho saw something through the lens that literally made the world come to a stop. Or maybe it was just that beating in his chest. Or maybe they felt synonymous in that second, and all he could do was stand and watch as familiar blond hair flicked across a familiar cheek, resting against a familiar hand as familiar eyes stared down at a cup at a table across the street.
There was no mistake who it was. He was right where he said he would be. He was in Paris. The logic should have aligned, but it didn't. All those dusty expectations were suddenly shoved right in front of his face, as if taunting him, sneering at him. Of course this was what you really wanted, right?
Yunho wasn't sure how long he stared at him before his feet began to push him forward. He had nothing prepared to say, nothing for seven solid seconds before Jaejoong glanced up, only to do a double take back to his face. Slowly turning around in his chair, both just staring. They were still gray.
“Hey, stranger.”
And that smile even better than what Yunho remembered.
~
“What?”
“You don't find this a bit ironic?”
“I find this incredibly ironic, actually. Not that you'd probably believe me,” Yunho paused once a steaming cup was placed in front of him, the scent just as strong and layered as the looks he kept receiving from across the small table, “but I didn't necessarily come to Paris to find you.”
“See, if you hadn't added the 'necessarily' I would have been offended.” Pause. “And no, I don't really believe you.”
A grin sneaked past Yunho's lips and he pressed his lips to the drink, finally plucking up the courage to return the other's gaze. Warmth assaulted all of his senses, and he gladly blamed the coffee for that. “It's good.”
“It's why I come here every morning.”
Jaejoong still kept up that searching stare. How drastically different he appeared without the smoke curling in his eyes or the distracting suitors or the flashy clothes that had hugged his body, caressed him in every which way when he walked away nearly a year ago. It was still so clear in Yunho's mind.
Now it was just battered jeans, just a shirt, just him. Maybe they weren't even his own clothes, Yunho wondered as an after thought - bitter after taste. His fingertips were starting to itch at the sight, touching his camera just as Jaejoong combed a hand through some unruly strands and pulled a knee to his chest.
His eyes followed Yunho's. “Such a tourist,” he laughed.
“This is for work, Blondie.” Jaejoong sent him a choice glare as he splayed his arm across the table, snatching the camera from Yunho's lap with surprising speed. The retaliation only brought another smile. “See you still like playing with things that aren't yours.”
“See you still don't mind,” Jaejoong mocked back, not breaking his observation of the camera, turning it around in his hands before he finally found the power button. “So you're a photographer now?”
“Of sorts.”
“The bar must be weeping.” The shutter opened; Jaejoong snapped a shot of the street. “You were cute in that outfit you always wore. Ah, that tie.” The camera slowly angled back to Yunho, Jaejoong tilting his head along with it, as if he was wearing a shimmering black mask. “Doesn't explain why you're in Paris, though.”
Yunho didn't back down from the unblinking stare of the camera, but those words were complicated. “It's a long story,” he finally answered. The camera clicked again, this time in his own direction. “A lot's happened since you left.”
Jaejoong's voice was abrupt. “Have you found the right guy yet?”
“Have you?”
It wasn't the same harmless quip as before. The tease had somehow slipped away with time, and Yunho could feel the shift in the way those words felt on his tongue.
Jaejoong didn't answer right away. First he placed the camera down carefully on the flowered tablecloth, fingering the thick black strap. Then he pulled back. “No. Not here.”
“And you were so anxious to come.”
“Still waiting to hear why you're here.”
“Like I said, long story.”
“You think I'm busy? I was just at a fucking book store by myself for three hours before you saw me.” The cut in Jaejoong's voice left as suddenly as it appeared, Yunho watching him quietly. He knew that that would probably be the closest thing to I'm loney he'd ever hear from Jaejoong.
I am, too, he wanted to say back. I missed you. I don't know why, but I missed you.
But Jaejoong got there first, as always. “Where you staying?”
“Just a motel down the street.”
The smile returned as if nothing had happened at all. “Let's take a walk then.” Before Yunho could exactly formulate an answer, Jaejoong leaned across the table, raised a thumb to the corner of his mouth, and wiped away a stray drop of coffee. Didn't say anything more as he licked it back off his skin and stood up to leave. It happened just as quickly and casually as that - they were right back to where they had left off.
“Something's different,” Yunho eventually spoke his thoughts once they started walking, trailing speculative eyes down the blond from top to bottom. “Did you quit smoking?”
Jaejoong only laughed. “You always did give me too much credit.”
~
He was sprawled on Yunho's bed, nose deep in a black leather photo album. Yunho had never shown it to anyone, not even his family. He wasn't sure how they'd take it, if they'd scoff at the idea that he could honestly make a profession out of it or that he might actually want to. But Jaejoong was a different kind of person - his opinion actually mattered.
“You really took all these?”
“Don't seem so surprised.” Yunho half-chided, pushing the other's legs aside so he could climb onto the small bed as well, hovering over Jaejoong's back. He looked down at a picture of two men dancing with each other, electric, colored lights crackling, stretching around their bodies. “That was at the club we-”
“I remember,” Jaejoong murmured, peering in even closer at the picture.
He flipped the next page to find a man striking a match. Wet asphalt and neon shoes. A kiss, spontaneous and blurred from movement or the effects of alcohol or both. A young girl racing down the street, unaware, laughing with eyes lit on something out of the frame. “These are beautiful,” he finally commented after flipping through the entire album, pausing at practically every picture. Yunho didn't say anything, embarrassed to admit he was embarrassed by that reaction. “Really,” he stressed, almost defensively, twisting around to look up at Yunho. “Why didn't you ever tell me about this?”
“I think most of our conversations revolved around you, if I'm not mistaken. And I took all these after you left.”
But Jaejoong continued to press. “Still. You never even mentioned liking photography.”
“It's just something I always messed around with, nothing serious. After you showed me that club, I guess it...kinda inspired me, in a way.” Using that word made Yunho feel vulnerable - he might as well have said that Jaejoong himself had inspired him. Maybe that would have been closer to the truth. Probably. But the truth felt too heavy, so he promptly steered the topic away.
“Anyways, some guys at the bar convinced me to send these into a magazine, and they accepted them. I guess they felt I had a fresh perspective.”
“Not such a long story after all,” Jaejoong smiled a feline smile, rolling over on his back so he could look up at Yunho better, arms raising above his head in a lazy stretch. “I leave for a year and you become a big shot photographer, name in the headlines, jet setting off to Paris...”
“Hardly,” Yunho laughed, following the line of that spread body. The room fell into a curious silence, Jaejoong's fingers moving from the veil of his hair to climb up Yunho's shirt, still casual, barely skimming the surface.
“They really are beautiful.” The smile softened, almost disappeared. Gaze sparked accusingly. “You shouldn't need me to tell you that.”
“They're alright.”
Laugh. “Still too nice for your own good. You haven't changed at all.”
Yunho still couldn't really believe this was happening. He only assumed the whirlwind of meeting Jaejoong was just that - a whirlwind. Something that wouldn't occur again. Something out of chance, a coincidence. Yunho didn't know what this was, but it definitely didn't feel like a coincidence. It just felt like life was slapping him in the face all over again.
“Why do you like taking pictures?”
“Because they last,” Yunho answered simply.
Neither one of them had looked away yet, Jaejoong's hand slowly tightening around the collar of the other's shirt. “You should take a picture of me sometime,” he sighed airily, and suddenly those eyes were the same liquid tease from before - nothing had changed, nothing at all, he was right. And it was only growing. “You should visit my place.”
“Very subtle,” Yunho observed wryly, only to fall into another grin as Jaejoong began tugging him down to the bed. Yunho didn't stop him. “How long have you been waiting to do this?”
“I don't want to think about that right now.”
Jaejoong inclined his head to cover the rest of the distance, touching the corner of his lips, barely. Yunho felt his breath, the way he took his time kissing each corner of his mouth, and he didn't stop his own arm from snaking around Jaejoong's waist. Staying.
Perfect, almost. But he still had to ask. “You're with someone...aren't you?”
The man currently necking him answered without missing a beat. “In a way.”
Yunho stilled, hand lingering between fabric and skin as his gaze traveled further along Jaejoong's expression. It was honest, had nothing to hide, but those gray eyes looked almost exasperated as they caught Yunho's hesitation, that prickling sensation in his fingertips that made him want to pull back. Made him not even want to get involved, just like last time.
Jaejoong's voice slinked easily through his thoughts. “It's not like you weren't with someone before.”
“I also wasn't throwing myself at you before.”
This time Jaejoong paused, both hovering between a strange state of want and tension, neither one backing down from the other.
“Weren't you?” he finally challenged, just before Yunho decided to slide back off of his body, moving to sit near the edge of the bed. He faced his back to Jaejoong and didn't say anything to the low sigh from behind him, didn't do anything when Jaejoong rustled underneath the sheets and flopped his head on the lumpy hotel pillow.
“Listen.”
“Forget about it, it's your business.”
“I had to have something to keep me occupied here. You honestly think I'd live all on my own? I'd drive myself crazy. You know me better than that.”
“You give me headaches, that's what I know,” Yunho retorted, a little less than half-joking as he felt something nudge him in the behind. Jaejoong's foot, and he didn't stop provoking until Yunho turned back around and caught it with his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Like now.”
“I'm sorry I'm bad for your health. You should come back to bed and rest.”
It didn't surprise Yunho at all that that voice was enough to coax him back in, to disregard the annoying, desperate itch in his thoughts - what was surprising was that Jaejoong kept his distance. Touching him only when Yunho's eyelids fell, the pressure against his hair light, and Jaejoong whispered to him that he really did look tired. I'll stay until you fall asleep.
A few hours later Yunho drifted back, gradually, and looking around the foggy haze of his room he noticed Jaejoong was true to his word - nowhere to be seen. Then he found a piece of newspaper left haphazardly atop the other pillow, pulling the makeshift note to him and reading the scarce words over and over until he memorized them.
Here's my address. I expect you tomorrow. Bring your camera.
-----> Not the end!! Continue on with Part 2~