Illicit Love 1/4
Title: Illicit Love 1/4
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong (implied sexual situations with Jaejoong and others)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They are only mine to experiment with when I write fanfics like this.
Summary: I am an only child. But at about twelve, a boy was forced to work for us, and then suddenly I had a sister named Minjae. I knew that Jaejoong was still in there, behind the beautiful long hair and dresses and corsets. Did I fall in love with her, my adopted sister, or in love with the boy who she used to be?
Warning: implied sexual situations with a minor and prostitution
A/N: This fic is a little odd. As an explanation, yes, Jaejoong is a boy in this fic. But in Yunho's upbringing, he was taught to call him a girl and think of him as a girl, so he refers to Jaejoong as "her" and "she". This fic is first person, from Yunho's POV. Also, I tagged this as fantasy just because the setting is like an Inn during Medieval times.
Fanart by crazyaboutchun!!!
Part 1:
I met Jaejoong when I was twelve. The boy was only eight, and he was dirty and smelly, and my father called him a filthy little thief. He’d tried to pick my father’s coin purse while he had been at the market buying supplies for our inn.
The boy’s punishment was to be our servant until my father felt he’d worked off the crime. Jaejoong scrubbed floors and did dishes and cooked and cleaned, staying out of sight of our guests.
I paid him no mind-he was only a servant-until one day, he was in my room cleaning. I watched him for a few minutes before he noticed me.
He meeped and dropped his wet cloth and put his forehead to the floor with a whimper of my name. “I’m sorry. I was not expecting you home.”
“It’s okay, Jaejoong,” I said. “I forgot what I came in for anyway. So carry on.”
I hurried away, unaware of what the flutter in my chest had meant when his dark eyes had gone so wide and those pink lips formed a surprised oh.
The next time I thought of Jaejoong, I overheard my parents discussing him. Father wished to be rid of another mouth to feed, but Mother had grown attached to him and refused to toss him out. Especially so close to winter. With winter coming, the inn would fill up with men and soldiers and travelers. Mother needed help since I was to continue my schooling and training.
Father laughed cruelly. “You want him to have a woman’s job?”
“It’s what he does anyway.”
“Then it is what he will be. You’ve always wanted a daughter. Put him in a dress and let him serve our guests if he can handle the embarrassment. And if he refuses, then he can leave.”
~~♥~~♥~~♥~~
Two weeks later, wind blew rain in from every side, and I ran home after school. I stepped into the main hall of the inn, soaking and covered in mud.
A quiet voice I had only heard once before said, “Yunho-oppa, go stand by the fire.”
I twisted my head and saw dark eyes I knew well, but not as they were. Jaejoong wore a brown shift, and a red bonnet covered his dark hair. His lips were tinged pink.
I stared and swallowed, and then swallowed again. The chill from the rain was paralyzing, but seeing Jaejoong dressed as a girl is what froze me.
“Please, oppa, you’re dripping everywhere.”
I swallowed again and quickly moved to the fire where I removed my boots and coat. Jaejoong was there to take them away, hanging them near the hearth so they would dry quickly. He hurried away and then returned with a hot mug of cider and then asked if I wanted some porridge to warm me up.
Dazed, I nodded, still unable to say anything as I watched him walk away. It was odd. Because I knew he was a boy, but he moved with a feminine flare that I doubt I would have noticed had he not been wearing a dress. The skirt shifted around him, and I wondered how many layers of petticoats caused the curve of his hips. Not that I understood the ways of women’s clothing. Now at thirteen, I only knew what I knew when I peeked into the brothels in town.
A traveler entered the inn, and Mother was there in a moment to welcome the guest. Jaejoong, keeping his head low, took the man’s coat. Mother negotiated a night’s stay, and then she said something else that turned my world upside down.
“This is my daughter Minjae. She’ll be right back with a warm drink for you and prepare anything you’d wish to eat at this early hour. Dinner will be served at seven.”
And just like that. I had sister named Minjae.
It was odd at first, to hear this boy call me ‘oppa’. I learned to call him Jae, because I couldn’t call him Minjae, because he wasn’t a girl. At least, not at first.
Jae’s hair grew long, past his shoulders, and Mother braided it and curled it. She taught him how to paint his face and put his body into corsets, giving him curves he didn’t have. He was pretty; he’d always been pretty. No one ever questioned him. Or asked if he was really a boy. He was docile and pretty, and he smiled and blushed for the patrons.
The next three years were confusing for me, but over time, I started thinking of Jaejoong as Minjae and saying “she” instead of “he”. Very slowly, I don’t even know when I started, but she was less of a he, and more Minjae than Jaejoong and I started calling her “she” and “her” and “my little sister” in my mind, too. The few times I forgot early on, Father would glare at me. So it became something I did so I did not upset him or my mother.
Father was happy, because Minjae brought in more and more customers.
We grew close under the guise of the lie. I don’t know how she felt about the distance between us, but I was determined to make it go away. Even though Father disapproved, I taught Jae how to read and how to do math. I gave her homework that she would finish after her other chores were done. She was very smart. And after a few months, we started teasing each other and playing and acting more like an older brother and younger sister would. It still felt weird to me, but Jae laughed when I teased her or pulled on her curls. She had a habit of jumping from behind the pillars and trying to scare me. I started calling her BooJae.
And I of course was the perfect older brother. When I was at the inn, I watched her and defended her against the worst of those that tried to touch her
But it wasn’t until I was sixteen, and my BooJae was twelve that I started thinking of her and sex at the same time.
I was running late for school. It was my last year and after this year, I was to stay at the inn full time and learn to run it under my Father’s teachings. I needed something quick to eat, but Minjae was not in the kitchen when she normally was. I didn’t worry, but went around the inn searching for her.
I had my hand raised to knock on the door of Father’s office when I heard Minjae whimper from inside.
“Don’t you like that, girl?” Father asked. He always called her that, just like he always called Mother “wife”.
Minjae whimpered again.
Anger rose in me, because that was not a happy whimper, and he was hurting her. I pushed the door open, and the shout died on my lips at what I saw.
My father was turned, so he did not see the door. Minjae was bent over the desk, and her skirts were up around her waist. But all I saw was her pained face. My father’s arm was behind her, moving steadily. I backed up, unsure. If he’d been beating her, I would have intruded, but what was he doing with his hand under her skirts?
For the first time in a long time, I thought of Jaejoong and not Minjae, and why would my father do such things to him (not her?) and why would he anyway when Mother could walk in any moment and see them?
I did not know what to do, so I left, not realizing that my BooJae had seen me and that her heart was breaking because I did nothing but leave her to suffer at the hands of my father.
~~♥~~♥~~♥~~
Little by little, my BooJae grew withdrawn, she only smiled at customers and when she was on call. I watched her intently, but I also withdrew from her because I didn’t know what else to do. I could not call my father out and reveal his sins to my mother, because Minjae was his property. His slave.
I noticed when BooJae would disappear, and then a few minutes later, a soldier or visitor would be led by my father to his office. My BooJae would return, eyes blank, smile fake, a twitch in her step. I did not need to follow those men to know what they were doing to her. But I was also powerless to stop it.
For months I watched my BooJae whither and I missed her smiles and her laughter. The clothes she wore grew more sensual, with flares and lace along the bodice, and ruffles and drapes along the skirts and neckline. Bright green, blue, red and purple corsets showed off her tiny waist and gave the appearance of breasts that she did not actually have. Her creamy skin tantalized the men who stayed at the inn.
I tried to remember her as Jaejoong and I couldn’t. I had not been friends with that boy, and this girl held more of my heart than I understood at barely sixteen. I did not want her to suffer any longer, but I had no idea how to stop it. Father grew richer from his daughter’s work.
I finally decided that no matter what, I would be there for her. I could not stop them, but I could not let her suffer without support from anyone.
My seventeenth birthday fell just the day before the Winter Solstice Festival. The Festival always brought extra tenants and extra money. People were booked two or three to a room, and Minjae gave up her room for others to sleep in. Because of demand, she rarely slept on these nights. I was told to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but I stayed awake, by the fire and watched her work her magic. She smiled at the men, touched their shoulders.
I was angry because these men got to see her smile and hear her laugh, and I used to, but I couldn’t anymore because of them. Not a real smile or a real laugh. I hated them for it. And every time she touched one of them, I wanted to stab him. Draw my knife and slice open their jugular.
The last man did not stumble up to bed until almost three am, and I knew that MinJae had to clean up and then get breakfast started.
When I stood up from my perch near the fire, she squeaked in surprise and put her hand to her chest, mouth forming that perfect oh of surprise.
“Yunho-oppa, you said you were going off to bed hours ago.”
I shrugged as I walked over to her. She went backwards until she hit a pillar. I kept moving into her space and then hugged her. Surprised, she froze, and then after a moment her arms wrapped around my waist.
“Jaejoong.”
She stiffened, and then pushed me away. “You should go to bed, Yunho oppa. I have things to clean.”
“You should sleep also, Boo.”
“I will when I have time.” She seemed more relaxed that I hadn’t called her ‘Jaejoong’ again.
She turned and left for the kitchen. I sighed. That did not go how I wanted it to go at all. When she reappeared bearing a bowl of water and a washcloth for the tables, I knew that she would do her duty first. And sleep when she had time.
By the end of the next night, she had almost collapsed. The revelers had retreated and the guests slept early, still half-drunk from the night before. I waited for her on the stairs until she had cleaned up. She’d disappeared with four different men that night. I curbed my need to kill them.
Again, she meeped, seeing me on the stairs. “Oppa,” she admonished, putting hands on her hips.
I smiled. “What?”
“You should be in bed.”
“You said that last night. And so should you. But your bedroom is still occupied, so I’ve come to offer mine.”
“I can’t do that.”
And it wasn’t a lie or a denial of my request. She actually couldn’t. We’d both be in trouble if Father found out.
“Too bad,” I said. I stood up and moved down the single stair. She muffled her squeal as I lifted her over my shoulder.
“Oppa,” she hissed, pounding at my back with her fist. “Put me down this instant.”
I carried her up the stairs and into my room at the very end of the hall on the third floor. She quieted, not wanting to wake Mother and Father. I set her down and then pushed her toward the bed. “Go sleep. Now. You need it.”
“I sleep on the flo-“
“No. You will sleep on the bed.”
“Oppa.”
“Jaejoong.”
She froze again, and turned away from me. “Don’t call me that.” The feminine timber of her voice fell.
“That’s your name.”
“That was my name.”
“Jae, come on.”
“Don’t, Yunho. Please.” She seemed more fragile than I’d ever seen her. I had to remind myself that she was only thirteen.
I walked up behind her and put my arms around her shoulder, like I so often had before. She was trembling and let me lead her to the bed. Stopping at the end, I held her with one arm and loosened the bodice with the other. Her breath hitched as it hit the floor. I unbuttoned the rows of buttons down the back of her dress, and she let it fall to the floor, leaving her in a shift and a few layers of petticoats. She inhaled sharply as I untied the petticoats, adding them to the pile on the floor.
For me, I only took off my tunic. She did not move and stayed there, standing in only her shift, arms around her skinny body that no longer looked so feminine. She was beautiful.
She let me turn us around and I sat on the bed and pulled her down so she was sitting between my spread legs. With soft hands I loosened the ribbons in her hair. I did not have a brush in my room, so I used my fingers, until the dark strands cascaded down her shoulders.
“There,” I whispered.
She was pliant and followed my lead as I pushed back my blankets and laid her down. She curled away from me, and without really thinking, I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Sleep my beautiful Jae.”
I meant to get up from the bed, but her hands gripped my arm. I looked down at her, saw the begging in her eyes, and then lay down with her. Over the blanket. She buried her face in my chest and she cried. I did not know what to say or do to make her feel better, so I said nothing and stroked her head until she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
~~♥~~♥~~♥~~
Part 2: My Love
.
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong (implied sexual situations with Jaejoong and others)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They are only mine to experiment with when I write fanfics like this.
Summary: I am an only child. But at about twelve, a boy was forced to work for us, and then suddenly I had a sister named Minjae. I knew that Jaejoong was still in there, behind the beautiful long hair and dresses and corsets. Did I fall in love with her, my adopted sister, or in love with the boy who she used to be?
Warning: implied sexual situations with a minor and prostitution
A/N: This fic is a little odd. As an explanation, yes, Jaejoong is a boy in this fic. But in Yunho's upbringing, he was taught to call him a girl and think of him as a girl, so he refers to Jaejoong as "her" and "she". This fic is first person, from Yunho's POV. Also, I tagged this as fantasy just because the setting is like an Inn during Medieval times.
Fanart by crazyaboutchun!!!
Part 1:
I met Jaejoong when I was twelve. The boy was only eight, and he was dirty and smelly, and my father called him a filthy little thief. He’d tried to pick my father’s coin purse while he had been at the market buying supplies for our inn.
The boy’s punishment was to be our servant until my father felt he’d worked off the crime. Jaejoong scrubbed floors and did dishes and cooked and cleaned, staying out of sight of our guests.
I paid him no mind-he was only a servant-until one day, he was in my room cleaning. I watched him for a few minutes before he noticed me.
He meeped and dropped his wet cloth and put his forehead to the floor with a whimper of my name. “I’m sorry. I was not expecting you home.”
“It’s okay, Jaejoong,” I said. “I forgot what I came in for anyway. So carry on.”
I hurried away, unaware of what the flutter in my chest had meant when his dark eyes had gone so wide and those pink lips formed a surprised oh.
The next time I thought of Jaejoong, I overheard my parents discussing him. Father wished to be rid of another mouth to feed, but Mother had grown attached to him and refused to toss him out. Especially so close to winter. With winter coming, the inn would fill up with men and soldiers and travelers. Mother needed help since I was to continue my schooling and training.
Father laughed cruelly. “You want him to have a woman’s job?”
“It’s what he does anyway.”
“Then it is what he will be. You’ve always wanted a daughter. Put him in a dress and let him serve our guests if he can handle the embarrassment. And if he refuses, then he can leave.”
~~♥~~♥~~♥~~
Two weeks later, wind blew rain in from every side, and I ran home after school. I stepped into the main hall of the inn, soaking and covered in mud.
A quiet voice I had only heard once before said, “Yunho-oppa, go stand by the fire.”
I twisted my head and saw dark eyes I knew well, but not as they were. Jaejoong wore a brown shift, and a red bonnet covered his dark hair. His lips were tinged pink.
I stared and swallowed, and then swallowed again. The chill from the rain was paralyzing, but seeing Jaejoong dressed as a girl is what froze me.
“Please, oppa, you’re dripping everywhere.”
I swallowed again and quickly moved to the fire where I removed my boots and coat. Jaejoong was there to take them away, hanging them near the hearth so they would dry quickly. He hurried away and then returned with a hot mug of cider and then asked if I wanted some porridge to warm me up.
Dazed, I nodded, still unable to say anything as I watched him walk away. It was odd. Because I knew he was a boy, but he moved with a feminine flare that I doubt I would have noticed had he not been wearing a dress. The skirt shifted around him, and I wondered how many layers of petticoats caused the curve of his hips. Not that I understood the ways of women’s clothing. Now at thirteen, I only knew what I knew when I peeked into the brothels in town.
A traveler entered the inn, and Mother was there in a moment to welcome the guest. Jaejoong, keeping his head low, took the man’s coat. Mother negotiated a night’s stay, and then she said something else that turned my world upside down.
“This is my daughter Minjae. She’ll be right back with a warm drink for you and prepare anything you’d wish to eat at this early hour. Dinner will be served at seven.”
And just like that. I had sister named Minjae.
It was odd at first, to hear this boy call me ‘oppa’. I learned to call him Jae, because I couldn’t call him Minjae, because he wasn’t a girl. At least, not at first.
Jae’s hair grew long, past his shoulders, and Mother braided it and curled it. She taught him how to paint his face and put his body into corsets, giving him curves he didn’t have. He was pretty; he’d always been pretty. No one ever questioned him. Or asked if he was really a boy. He was docile and pretty, and he smiled and blushed for the patrons.
The next three years were confusing for me, but over time, I started thinking of Jaejoong as Minjae and saying “she” instead of “he”. Very slowly, I don’t even know when I started, but she was less of a he, and more Minjae than Jaejoong and I started calling her “she” and “her” and “my little sister” in my mind, too. The few times I forgot early on, Father would glare at me. So it became something I did so I did not upset him or my mother.
Father was happy, because Minjae brought in more and more customers.
We grew close under the guise of the lie. I don’t know how she felt about the distance between us, but I was determined to make it go away. Even though Father disapproved, I taught Jae how to read and how to do math. I gave her homework that she would finish after her other chores were done. She was very smart. And after a few months, we started teasing each other and playing and acting more like an older brother and younger sister would. It still felt weird to me, but Jae laughed when I teased her or pulled on her curls. She had a habit of jumping from behind the pillars and trying to scare me. I started calling her BooJae.
And I of course was the perfect older brother. When I was at the inn, I watched her and defended her against the worst of those that tried to touch her
But it wasn’t until I was sixteen, and my BooJae was twelve that I started thinking of her and sex at the same time.
I was running late for school. It was my last year and after this year, I was to stay at the inn full time and learn to run it under my Father’s teachings. I needed something quick to eat, but Minjae was not in the kitchen when she normally was. I didn’t worry, but went around the inn searching for her.
I had my hand raised to knock on the door of Father’s office when I heard Minjae whimper from inside.
“Don’t you like that, girl?” Father asked. He always called her that, just like he always called Mother “wife”.
Minjae whimpered again.
Anger rose in me, because that was not a happy whimper, and he was hurting her. I pushed the door open, and the shout died on my lips at what I saw.
My father was turned, so he did not see the door. Minjae was bent over the desk, and her skirts were up around her waist. But all I saw was her pained face. My father’s arm was behind her, moving steadily. I backed up, unsure. If he’d been beating her, I would have intruded, but what was he doing with his hand under her skirts?
For the first time in a long time, I thought of Jaejoong and not Minjae, and why would my father do such things to him (not her?) and why would he anyway when Mother could walk in any moment and see them?
I did not know what to do, so I left, not realizing that my BooJae had seen me and that her heart was breaking because I did nothing but leave her to suffer at the hands of my father.
~~♥~~♥~~♥~~
Little by little, my BooJae grew withdrawn, she only smiled at customers and when she was on call. I watched her intently, but I also withdrew from her because I didn’t know what else to do. I could not call my father out and reveal his sins to my mother, because Minjae was his property. His slave.
I noticed when BooJae would disappear, and then a few minutes later, a soldier or visitor would be led by my father to his office. My BooJae would return, eyes blank, smile fake, a twitch in her step. I did not need to follow those men to know what they were doing to her. But I was also powerless to stop it.
For months I watched my BooJae whither and I missed her smiles and her laughter. The clothes she wore grew more sensual, with flares and lace along the bodice, and ruffles and drapes along the skirts and neckline. Bright green, blue, red and purple corsets showed off her tiny waist and gave the appearance of breasts that she did not actually have. Her creamy skin tantalized the men who stayed at the inn.
I tried to remember her as Jaejoong and I couldn’t. I had not been friends with that boy, and this girl held more of my heart than I understood at barely sixteen. I did not want her to suffer any longer, but I had no idea how to stop it. Father grew richer from his daughter’s work.
I finally decided that no matter what, I would be there for her. I could not stop them, but I could not let her suffer without support from anyone.
My seventeenth birthday fell just the day before the Winter Solstice Festival. The Festival always brought extra tenants and extra money. People were booked two or three to a room, and Minjae gave up her room for others to sleep in. Because of demand, she rarely slept on these nights. I was told to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but I stayed awake, by the fire and watched her work her magic. She smiled at the men, touched their shoulders.
I was angry because these men got to see her smile and hear her laugh, and I used to, but I couldn’t anymore because of them. Not a real smile or a real laugh. I hated them for it. And every time she touched one of them, I wanted to stab him. Draw my knife and slice open their jugular.
The last man did not stumble up to bed until almost three am, and I knew that MinJae had to clean up and then get breakfast started.
When I stood up from my perch near the fire, she squeaked in surprise and put her hand to her chest, mouth forming that perfect oh of surprise.
“Yunho-oppa, you said you were going off to bed hours ago.”
I shrugged as I walked over to her. She went backwards until she hit a pillar. I kept moving into her space and then hugged her. Surprised, she froze, and then after a moment her arms wrapped around my waist.
“Jaejoong.”
She stiffened, and then pushed me away. “You should go to bed, Yunho oppa. I have things to clean.”
“You should sleep also, Boo.”
“I will when I have time.” She seemed more relaxed that I hadn’t called her ‘Jaejoong’ again.
She turned and left for the kitchen. I sighed. That did not go how I wanted it to go at all. When she reappeared bearing a bowl of water and a washcloth for the tables, I knew that she would do her duty first. And sleep when she had time.
By the end of the next night, she had almost collapsed. The revelers had retreated and the guests slept early, still half-drunk from the night before. I waited for her on the stairs until she had cleaned up. She’d disappeared with four different men that night. I curbed my need to kill them.
Again, she meeped, seeing me on the stairs. “Oppa,” she admonished, putting hands on her hips.
I smiled. “What?”
“You should be in bed.”
“You said that last night. And so should you. But your bedroom is still occupied, so I’ve come to offer mine.”
“I can’t do that.”
And it wasn’t a lie or a denial of my request. She actually couldn’t. We’d both be in trouble if Father found out.
“Too bad,” I said. I stood up and moved down the single stair. She muffled her squeal as I lifted her over my shoulder.
“Oppa,” she hissed, pounding at my back with her fist. “Put me down this instant.”
I carried her up the stairs and into my room at the very end of the hall on the third floor. She quieted, not wanting to wake Mother and Father. I set her down and then pushed her toward the bed. “Go sleep. Now. You need it.”
“I sleep on the flo-“
“No. You will sleep on the bed.”
“Oppa.”
“Jaejoong.”
She froze again, and turned away from me. “Don’t call me that.” The feminine timber of her voice fell.
“That’s your name.”
“That was my name.”
“Jae, come on.”
“Don’t, Yunho. Please.” She seemed more fragile than I’d ever seen her. I had to remind myself that she was only thirteen.
I walked up behind her and put my arms around her shoulder, like I so often had before. She was trembling and let me lead her to the bed. Stopping at the end, I held her with one arm and loosened the bodice with the other. Her breath hitched as it hit the floor. I unbuttoned the rows of buttons down the back of her dress, and she let it fall to the floor, leaving her in a shift and a few layers of petticoats. She inhaled sharply as I untied the petticoats, adding them to the pile on the floor.
For me, I only took off my tunic. She did not move and stayed there, standing in only her shift, arms around her skinny body that no longer looked so feminine. She was beautiful.
She let me turn us around and I sat on the bed and pulled her down so she was sitting between my spread legs. With soft hands I loosened the ribbons in her hair. I did not have a brush in my room, so I used my fingers, until the dark strands cascaded down her shoulders.
“There,” I whispered.
She was pliant and followed my lead as I pushed back my blankets and laid her down. She curled away from me, and without really thinking, I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Sleep my beautiful Jae.”
I meant to get up from the bed, but her hands gripped my arm. I looked down at her, saw the begging in her eyes, and then lay down with her. Over the blanket. She buried her face in my chest and she cried. I did not know what to say or do to make her feel better, so I said nothing and stroked her head until she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
~~♥~~♥~~♥~~
Part 2: My Love
.