Host with the Most 4/?
Title: Host with the Most 4/?
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun, (others/Yoochun)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Man, if only I owned a host club ... these boys would make me so much money. But I don't. So I can't. And I'm still poor.
Summary: Yoochun works at a "karaoke" bar called The Music Box. He needs the money, as most hosts do. He's a seasoned veteran, knows how to play the game, and never lets himself get too close to his clients.
A/N: I am not allowed to start new fics. In my defense, this was supposed to be an angsty one-shot.
Part 4: The Telephone Game
Yoochun stood in a line with Kibum, Jonghyun and Taemin. Jinki had given him the previous day off to recover from his asthma attack and the hangover. He hid his embarrassment as well as he could. Freaking out because he liked a very popular rockstar? It had been really stupid. He knew that.
“Micky,” the client said, and Yoochun fought the urge to sigh.
Maybe he should have taken two nights off.
The other boys bowed and shuffled out the door, leaving Yoochun with the man, and he looked vaguely familiar. Had he been Micky’s client before?. He was attractive, and tall. He’d shoved the coffee table back a bit, giving more room for his long legs. They were crossed, encased in tight blue jeans that had stylish rips and darker patterned denim up and down the legs. He wore a white t-shirt, showing off a strong body, and an orange coat was flung over the back of a chair.
He smirked, and Yoochun swallowed, but shuffled forward.
“Honestly, I have no idea what he sees in you.”
“Huh?”
Chuckling, he leaned forward and poured himself a drink.
“I can do that for you--”
“Changmin,” the man supplied.
And just like that, Yoochun recognized him and groaned. Shim Changmin was one of Jaejoong’s best friends. They met in the army, and they were constantly photographed together, enough that there had been a scandal a couple of years ago.
Changmin motioned to the couch, and Yoochun sat down stiffly. Changmin took a pack of cigarettes and lit one himself.
“I guess you can tell that I’m here on official best friend duty,” Changmin said. “So what are your intentions?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can the bullshit. What are you intentions? Do you like Jaejoong? Do you want to date him?”
“He’s a client.”
Changmin scoffed and leaned back. “You better be so glad that Heechul-hyung did not come here. He’d smack you across the face for lying to him.”
Yoochun looked away.
“Okay, so you like him, but you’re worried that your relationship is based on two nights in a host club where neither one of you act like yourself so who do you really like? Got it. Jaejoong went on and on about that exact thing last night. Almost to the point where Heechul and Yunho were considering slipping something in his drink to get him to shut up.”
Yoochun fought the urge to gape. He took a deep breath and opened a bottle of soju. Handing it to Changmin, he said, “So, and?” He opened his own bottle and downed half of it.
“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” Changmin said. “Go get me a pen.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your client and I want you to go get me a fucking pen. God. You suck as a host.”
Yoochun glared at his cocky smirk, but got up and moved to the small table where the phone sat. In its drawer was a pen and a pad of paper. He handed them to Changmin, sat back on the couch, and finished his bottle of soju.
“This is his number. I strongly suggest you call him and ask him on a proper date. He’s never going to do it himself because he doesn’t want you to think he’s only dating Micky. So if you can let him date your alter ego, as Jaejoong calls it, and not even YooYoo, but the real you, then call him. If not, then don’t call him at all, and he’ll stop coming here. He’s so infatuated with you, it’s ridiculous.”
Changmin stood up. He stepped around Yoochun and picked up his jacket. He flung it around his body, slipping it onto his shoulders. He reached into an inner pocket. He took out and dropped a few bills onto the table. “Your pretty rockstar owes me dinner for this. I need to get somewhere that sells tits and pussy. Have a nice evening.”
Stunned, Yoochun watched Changmin walk out the door.
He looked down at the pad of paper and the numbers scrawled on it. Underneath it said, “You better call soon.”
Yoochun sagged back into the couch with a heavy sigh. Well, fuck. He pondered the little piece of paper. Call or not call?
Yoochun knew himself. Knew he’d call. With enough courage. Liquid courage.
Yoochun stood up. He gathered up the bills, the piece of paper, and two bottles of soju. He left the room and went to the employee lounge. Only Minho was there, relaxing after a client, barely dressed, and fiddling with a tablet.
“I thought you were with a client, “ Minho said.
“I was. He had to leave.”
“That’s two for you, you probably won’t get another one tonight.”
Yoochun shrugged. “That’s okay.”
“Ah, right. Mister Rockstar gave you enough for the week.”
Yoochun went to where his coat was hanging up. He slipped off his nice shirt, leaving him in a tanktop. He took out his own cigarettes and his cell phone before going back to the couch to sit next to Minho.
“We can make out if you want to. I might pay you.”
Minho laughed. “No thanks.”
Yoochun handed him a bottle and opened one for himself. They drank for a little while, and then Minho said, “Okay, I have to know what Jaejoong’s dick looks like.”
Yoochun slugged him in the shoulder. “Not telling.”
“Damn.”
“Nice, though. Pretty. Like the rest of him.”
“He’s so pretty it’s painful. Is his dick painful?”
Yoochun laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You didn’t let him fuck you, god, Yoochun, what is wrong with you?”
“I don’t fuck all my clients, MinWhore.”
Minho laughed. “I made almost a thousand dollars tonight letting three of them fuck me. I’m all right with being a whore.”
The door opened, letting in Jinki. “Yoochun. I thought you were with a client.”
“He had to leave. Got a business phone call.”
Jinki frowned. “Do you need another client? Someone just walked in and you two are the only ones not working.”
Yoochun shook his head. “Maybe in a bit.”
“I’ll go,” Minho said and stood up, “if he doesn’t mind much of a selection.”
“Your legs are an amazing selection,” Jinki said.
Minho laughed and followed him out the door.
Yoochun sighed and relaxed in the silence. Mostly silence. A few rooms nearby had music pumping from them.
Alone. For a moment.
He lit a cigarette.
He smoked and stared at the piece of paper.
Well, he knew himself, and he knew he was going to call Jaejoong. He’d already stepped way over the “he’s just a client” line he had made for himself, already dropped his guard, already let Jaejoong in. Maybe not completely, but enough that if he did not call Jaejoong right now, then he’d never get to see him again. Except at concerts.
Might as well get it over with.
He held the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and picked up the paper and his phone. His hands shook while trying to dial. He sucked in a final drag before hitting the call button.
The phone rang, and then Yoochun realized what time it was. Almost two in the morning. Almost ready to hang up, Yoochun coughed when an unmistakable voice said hello.
Yoochun cleared his throat and said, “H-hey.”
“Who is this?” Guarded. Unsure. Warning.
“Yoo-Micky. Micky, from The Music Box.” And then he sighed. All in, Yoochun. All in. A deep breath of courage. “It’s Yoochun. Park Yoochun.”
Silence, for long enough that Yoochun checked his phone, made sure he hadn’t accidentally hung up with his face.
“Hello?” Yoochun said.
“YooYoo?”
Yoochun swallowed. “That’s me. Changmin gave me your number. Sorry. It’s late. I didn’t even think to look at the time.”
“It’s okay. I was up. Changmin gave you my number?”
“Yeah. He ... he was here, at The Music Box.”
Jaejoong laughed. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. In his defense, he was only here because he’s worried about you.”
“Doubtful. He was only there because he lost a bet or he owed Heechul-hyung a favor. Or Heechul had blackmail material on him. The bitch.”
Yoochun chuckled.
“So, Park Yoochun, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Yoochun hummed. “You, too.”
“Why did you call?”
“Because I’ve had just enough soju to have thought it was a great idea and be reckless.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Lucky me to get such an honest answer.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Listening to music, working, recording things. What about you?”
“At work, between clients.”
Jaejoong huffed.
And Yoochun totally understood. “Jealous already?”
“Only because you aren’t here to cuddle up with me while I work.”
Yoochun remembered the first night with Jaejoong, before the drinking, leaning against him, touching, resting. It was heaven. Something he wanted more of. A steady body to lean on. Or at least one that he was not related to and he could convince to move in between his sheets.
“Well, you’re the famous rockstar,” Yoochun said. “What’s your schedule this week?”
“Pretty packed until the weekend. I have a couple of appearances on Friday and Saturday. I could take you to a movie premiere on Sunday. Want to walk a red carpet with me?”
Yoochun smiled and sank lower into the couch. He took a swallow of soju. “In a famous person’s world, what level of commitment is that the equivalent of? Like is that the same as a blowjob, anal, or are there toys involved? Will I have to move in with you afterwards?”
Jaejoong laughed. “Oh god, no. It’s more that I’m tired of taking Changmin with me, and I don’t want to take a girl. At least when I bring a male friend, the media actually calls him a friend and not a lover. Most of the media, anyway.”
Yoochun chuckled. “I remember that scandal. What was the headline? Shim Changmin tells all about Jaejoong in bed?”
“I’ve never sued a company so fast.”
“I can’t Sunday,” Yoochun said after his laughter died down. “My brother is coming home for the weekend. I can hang out on Friday morning and afternoon. My brother’s plane lands at eight p.m. Then Saturday and Sunday are family time.”
“Home?” Jaejoong said, voice curious.
Yoochun smiled. “Yes, home.”
“Okay, so Friday. I have a few secret places around the city if you don’t mind meeting me somewhere.”
“Of course not.”
“Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address of one of my favorite teahouses.”
“Can you text it to me?”
“This is a landline. Fangirls get ahold of my cell number too easily.”
“That just means I have to get up and I’m comfortable.”
“Without me there?”
“I can pretend. Sort of.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Just get a pen. I have to be up in too few hours.”
Yoochun grumbled with humor on his voice as he stood up and found a pen on a side table. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“It’s just outside of Seoul, to the east. Crap, do you have a car?”
Yoochun laughed. “Yes, I have a car.”
“Good. You’ll need one.” He gave Yoochun directions as well as the address, and the phone number to the tea house just in case he got lost. They settled on noon. “I better get to bed.”
“Same here.”
“I thought you said you were between clients.”
“I lied. I’m done for the night. Changmin was my last customer.”
“He better not have touched you.”
“He didn’t. He said he had to go find some lady parts.”
Jaejoong laughed.
“Thank him for me.”
“Why?”
“For your number. I was in shock, I don’t think I thanked him.”
“Good. He’s an arrogant asshole.” Jaejoong’s voice was laced with affection. “The fewer things I have to thank him for the better.”
Yoochun chuckled. “Good night.”
“Good morning.”
“Yeah.”
“Call me again. On this number. I’m usually home after midnight.”
“Okay. Sleep well.”
“Might jerk off first.”
Yoochun moaned. “Want me to stay on the line and help?”
Jaejoong groaned, but said, “No. Yoochun isn’t Micky, and I doubt that Yoochun would jump so quick into phone sex. Tempting though.”
Yoochun felt his chest tighten and he had no idea what to say to that.
“Bye, Yoochun-ah. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Bye, Jaejoong-hyung.”
---
Yoochun spent the next two days smiling. It helped his tips, and even some of his regular clients said he looked much happier than normal. It was easy to explain it away as a host, that it was just that client and it was so good to see them after such a long time.
But only he and his coworkers knew it was because of Jaejoong.
So much Jaejoong. Yoochun called him each night, and each night they talked for at least an hour. They talked about nonsensical things, and Yoochun fought the urge to spill his soul. It was so easy to talk to Jaejoong, and they had so much in common. They talked about music, and Yoochun talked about his favorite songs that Jaejoong had written and why they were his favorite. Most of the time, they were Jaejoong’s favorites too, and the reasons why were always the same.
Jaejoong talked about his sisters often. Yoochun wanted to talk to him about Yoohwan too, but they hadn’t even known each other for a week. Even though Yoochun felt like he knew everything about Jaejoong, Jaejoong only knew superficial stuff. He didn’t know important things like growing up in an abusive family, not being able to go to his mother’s funeral, and how much wanted to go to school, have a real job, be ... somebody. Be himself. He felt like he could be himself with Jaejoong.
Still, he talked about how excited he was to see Yoohwan even if he didn’t explain about Yoohwan’s school.
His car was a beat-up Volkswagen Golf. Cheap, but it ran well. Yoochun did the repairs on the car himself, when he had to. He tried not to if he could help it. Grease under the fingernails did not go over well as a host. Yoochun was pretty sure the car had been green at one point, but now sported a dull gray exterior complete with dents and a little bit of rust. Little Toad was the only car he had, so he took care of it, and the engine ran smoothly.
The tea house was a good hour drive from his apartment. But as Jaejoong said, it was isolated. Situated between a mountainside full of fancy villas and a protected parkland, the small house almost blended into the trees surrounding it. Designed after a pagoda, the sloping roofs burned red in the afternoon sunlight, the pillars and porches were a deep brown, and the drapes in the windows fluttered in rainbow colors.
A woman in a kimono greeted him in Japanese, and in slightly comprehensible Japanese, Yoochun said hello, introduced himself, and said he was meeting someone.
The woman smiled widely and bowed, and motioned Yoochun to remove his shoes. He did, and slid on the house slippers provided. He followed the tiny woman. He figured that Jaejoong was already here. His heart fluttered with every step. His breath went shallow. He rubbed his hands on his thighs.
Part of him knew that he shouldn’t be nervous. He’d hung out with Jaejoong twice now. But he wasn’t nervous in the same way a fan was nervous to meet their idol. He wasn’t nervous in a way that he services a new client.
The main issue.
Jaejoong was not a client. Not anymore.
Yoochun was not meeting Jaejoong as Micky, but as Yoochun. For the first time. Even after three days of phone conversations, he did not feel prepared for this.
A date, a potential boyfriend. Maybe.
Yoochun bit his lip. Maybe Jaejoong would not like Yoochun, even though he liked Micky. Micky was not Yoochun. Yoochun was not Micky.
“I am not Micky,” he whispered.
The woman looked over at him and then smiled widely. She stopped in front of a panel door and bowed before opening it.
Yoochun took a very deep breath.
Part 5: The Dating Game
Part 3: The Rules of the Game
Part 2: The Getting-To-Know-You Game
Part 1: The Drinking Game
.
Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun, (others/Yoochun)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Man, if only I owned a host club ... these boys would make me so much money. But I don't. So I can't. And I'm still poor.
Summary: Yoochun works at a "karaoke" bar called The Music Box. He needs the money, as most hosts do. He's a seasoned veteran, knows how to play the game, and never lets himself get too close to his clients.
A/N: I am not allowed to start new fics. In my defense, this was supposed to be an angsty one-shot.
Part 4: The Telephone Game
Yoochun stood in a line with Kibum, Jonghyun and Taemin. Jinki had given him the previous day off to recover from his asthma attack and the hangover. He hid his embarrassment as well as he could. Freaking out because he liked a very popular rockstar? It had been really stupid. He knew that.
“Micky,” the client said, and Yoochun fought the urge to sigh.
Maybe he should have taken two nights off.
The other boys bowed and shuffled out the door, leaving Yoochun with the man, and he looked vaguely familiar. Had he been Micky’s client before?. He was attractive, and tall. He’d shoved the coffee table back a bit, giving more room for his long legs. They were crossed, encased in tight blue jeans that had stylish rips and darker patterned denim up and down the legs. He wore a white t-shirt, showing off a strong body, and an orange coat was flung over the back of a chair.
He smirked, and Yoochun swallowed, but shuffled forward.
“Honestly, I have no idea what he sees in you.”
“Huh?”
Chuckling, he leaned forward and poured himself a drink.
“I can do that for you--”
“Changmin,” the man supplied.
And just like that, Yoochun recognized him and groaned. Shim Changmin was one of Jaejoong’s best friends. They met in the army, and they were constantly photographed together, enough that there had been a scandal a couple of years ago.
Changmin motioned to the couch, and Yoochun sat down stiffly. Changmin took a pack of cigarettes and lit one himself.
“I guess you can tell that I’m here on official best friend duty,” Changmin said. “So what are your intentions?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can the bullshit. What are you intentions? Do you like Jaejoong? Do you want to date him?”
“He’s a client.”
Changmin scoffed and leaned back. “You better be so glad that Heechul-hyung did not come here. He’d smack you across the face for lying to him.”
Yoochun looked away.
“Okay, so you like him, but you’re worried that your relationship is based on two nights in a host club where neither one of you act like yourself so who do you really like? Got it. Jaejoong went on and on about that exact thing last night. Almost to the point where Heechul and Yunho were considering slipping something in his drink to get him to shut up.”
Yoochun fought the urge to gape. He took a deep breath and opened a bottle of soju. Handing it to Changmin, he said, “So, and?” He opened his own bottle and downed half of it.
“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” Changmin said. “Go get me a pen.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your client and I want you to go get me a fucking pen. God. You suck as a host.”
Yoochun glared at his cocky smirk, but got up and moved to the small table where the phone sat. In its drawer was a pen and a pad of paper. He handed them to Changmin, sat back on the couch, and finished his bottle of soju.
“This is his number. I strongly suggest you call him and ask him on a proper date. He’s never going to do it himself because he doesn’t want you to think he’s only dating Micky. So if you can let him date your alter ego, as Jaejoong calls it, and not even YooYoo, but the real you, then call him. If not, then don’t call him at all, and he’ll stop coming here. He’s so infatuated with you, it’s ridiculous.”
Changmin stood up. He stepped around Yoochun and picked up his jacket. He flung it around his body, slipping it onto his shoulders. He reached into an inner pocket. He took out and dropped a few bills onto the table. “Your pretty rockstar owes me dinner for this. I need to get somewhere that sells tits and pussy. Have a nice evening.”
Stunned, Yoochun watched Changmin walk out the door.
He looked down at the pad of paper and the numbers scrawled on it. Underneath it said, “You better call soon.”
Yoochun sagged back into the couch with a heavy sigh. Well, fuck. He pondered the little piece of paper. Call or not call?
Yoochun knew himself. Knew he’d call. With enough courage. Liquid courage.
Yoochun stood up. He gathered up the bills, the piece of paper, and two bottles of soju. He left the room and went to the employee lounge. Only Minho was there, relaxing after a client, barely dressed, and fiddling with a tablet.
“I thought you were with a client, “ Minho said.
“I was. He had to leave.”
“That’s two for you, you probably won’t get another one tonight.”
Yoochun shrugged. “That’s okay.”
“Ah, right. Mister Rockstar gave you enough for the week.”
Yoochun went to where his coat was hanging up. He slipped off his nice shirt, leaving him in a tanktop. He took out his own cigarettes and his cell phone before going back to the couch to sit next to Minho.
“We can make out if you want to. I might pay you.”
Minho laughed. “No thanks.”
Yoochun handed him a bottle and opened one for himself. They drank for a little while, and then Minho said, “Okay, I have to know what Jaejoong’s dick looks like.”
Yoochun slugged him in the shoulder. “Not telling.”
“Damn.”
“Nice, though. Pretty. Like the rest of him.”
“He’s so pretty it’s painful. Is his dick painful?”
Yoochun laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You didn’t let him fuck you, god, Yoochun, what is wrong with you?”
“I don’t fuck all my clients, MinWhore.”
Minho laughed. “I made almost a thousand dollars tonight letting three of them fuck me. I’m all right with being a whore.”
The door opened, letting in Jinki. “Yoochun. I thought you were with a client.”
“He had to leave. Got a business phone call.”
Jinki frowned. “Do you need another client? Someone just walked in and you two are the only ones not working.”
Yoochun shook his head. “Maybe in a bit.”
“I’ll go,” Minho said and stood up, “if he doesn’t mind much of a selection.”
“Your legs are an amazing selection,” Jinki said.
Minho laughed and followed him out the door.
Yoochun sighed and relaxed in the silence. Mostly silence. A few rooms nearby had music pumping from them.
Alone. For a moment.
He lit a cigarette.
He smoked and stared at the piece of paper.
Well, he knew himself, and he knew he was going to call Jaejoong. He’d already stepped way over the “he’s just a client” line he had made for himself, already dropped his guard, already let Jaejoong in. Maybe not completely, but enough that if he did not call Jaejoong right now, then he’d never get to see him again. Except at concerts.
Might as well get it over with.
He held the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and picked up the paper and his phone. His hands shook while trying to dial. He sucked in a final drag before hitting the call button.
The phone rang, and then Yoochun realized what time it was. Almost two in the morning. Almost ready to hang up, Yoochun coughed when an unmistakable voice said hello.
Yoochun cleared his throat and said, “H-hey.”
“Who is this?” Guarded. Unsure. Warning.
“Yoo-Micky. Micky, from The Music Box.” And then he sighed. All in, Yoochun. All in. A deep breath of courage. “It’s Yoochun. Park Yoochun.”
Silence, for long enough that Yoochun checked his phone, made sure he hadn’t accidentally hung up with his face.
“Hello?” Yoochun said.
“YooYoo?”
Yoochun swallowed. “That’s me. Changmin gave me your number. Sorry. It’s late. I didn’t even think to look at the time.”
“It’s okay. I was up. Changmin gave you my number?”
“Yeah. He ... he was here, at The Music Box.”
Jaejoong laughed. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. In his defense, he was only here because he’s worried about you.”
“Doubtful. He was only there because he lost a bet or he owed Heechul-hyung a favor. Or Heechul had blackmail material on him. The bitch.”
Yoochun chuckled.
“So, Park Yoochun, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Yoochun hummed. “You, too.”
“Why did you call?”
“Because I’ve had just enough soju to have thought it was a great idea and be reckless.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Lucky me to get such an honest answer.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Listening to music, working, recording things. What about you?”
“At work, between clients.”
Jaejoong huffed.
And Yoochun totally understood. “Jealous already?”
“Only because you aren’t here to cuddle up with me while I work.”
Yoochun remembered the first night with Jaejoong, before the drinking, leaning against him, touching, resting. It was heaven. Something he wanted more of. A steady body to lean on. Or at least one that he was not related to and he could convince to move in between his sheets.
“Well, you’re the famous rockstar,” Yoochun said. “What’s your schedule this week?”
“Pretty packed until the weekend. I have a couple of appearances on Friday and Saturday. I could take you to a movie premiere on Sunday. Want to walk a red carpet with me?”
Yoochun smiled and sank lower into the couch. He took a swallow of soju. “In a famous person’s world, what level of commitment is that the equivalent of? Like is that the same as a blowjob, anal, or are there toys involved? Will I have to move in with you afterwards?”
Jaejoong laughed. “Oh god, no. It’s more that I’m tired of taking Changmin with me, and I don’t want to take a girl. At least when I bring a male friend, the media actually calls him a friend and not a lover. Most of the media, anyway.”
Yoochun chuckled. “I remember that scandal. What was the headline? Shim Changmin tells all about Jaejoong in bed?”
“I’ve never sued a company so fast.”
“I can’t Sunday,” Yoochun said after his laughter died down. “My brother is coming home for the weekend. I can hang out on Friday morning and afternoon. My brother’s plane lands at eight p.m. Then Saturday and Sunday are family time.”
“Home?” Jaejoong said, voice curious.
Yoochun smiled. “Yes, home.”
“Okay, so Friday. I have a few secret places around the city if you don’t mind meeting me somewhere.”
“Of course not.”
“Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address of one of my favorite teahouses.”
“Can you text it to me?”
“This is a landline. Fangirls get ahold of my cell number too easily.”
“That just means I have to get up and I’m comfortable.”
“Without me there?”
“I can pretend. Sort of.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Just get a pen. I have to be up in too few hours.”
Yoochun grumbled with humor on his voice as he stood up and found a pen on a side table. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“It’s just outside of Seoul, to the east. Crap, do you have a car?”
Yoochun laughed. “Yes, I have a car.”
“Good. You’ll need one.” He gave Yoochun directions as well as the address, and the phone number to the tea house just in case he got lost. They settled on noon. “I better get to bed.”
“Same here.”
“I thought you said you were between clients.”
“I lied. I’m done for the night. Changmin was my last customer.”
“He better not have touched you.”
“He didn’t. He said he had to go find some lady parts.”
Jaejoong laughed.
“Thank him for me.”
“Why?”
“For your number. I was in shock, I don’t think I thanked him.”
“Good. He’s an arrogant asshole.” Jaejoong’s voice was laced with affection. “The fewer things I have to thank him for the better.”
Yoochun chuckled. “Good night.”
“Good morning.”
“Yeah.”
“Call me again. On this number. I’m usually home after midnight.”
“Okay. Sleep well.”
“Might jerk off first.”
Yoochun moaned. “Want me to stay on the line and help?”
Jaejoong groaned, but said, “No. Yoochun isn’t Micky, and I doubt that Yoochun would jump so quick into phone sex. Tempting though.”
Yoochun felt his chest tighten and he had no idea what to say to that.
“Bye, Yoochun-ah. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Bye, Jaejoong-hyung.”
---
Yoochun spent the next two days smiling. It helped his tips, and even some of his regular clients said he looked much happier than normal. It was easy to explain it away as a host, that it was just that client and it was so good to see them after such a long time.
But only he and his coworkers knew it was because of Jaejoong.
So much Jaejoong. Yoochun called him each night, and each night they talked for at least an hour. They talked about nonsensical things, and Yoochun fought the urge to spill his soul. It was so easy to talk to Jaejoong, and they had so much in common. They talked about music, and Yoochun talked about his favorite songs that Jaejoong had written and why they were his favorite. Most of the time, they were Jaejoong’s favorites too, and the reasons why were always the same.
Jaejoong talked about his sisters often. Yoochun wanted to talk to him about Yoohwan too, but they hadn’t even known each other for a week. Even though Yoochun felt like he knew everything about Jaejoong, Jaejoong only knew superficial stuff. He didn’t know important things like growing up in an abusive family, not being able to go to his mother’s funeral, and how much wanted to go to school, have a real job, be ... somebody. Be himself. He felt like he could be himself with Jaejoong.
Still, he talked about how excited he was to see Yoohwan even if he didn’t explain about Yoohwan’s school.
His car was a beat-up Volkswagen Golf. Cheap, but it ran well. Yoochun did the repairs on the car himself, when he had to. He tried not to if he could help it. Grease under the fingernails did not go over well as a host. Yoochun was pretty sure the car had been green at one point, but now sported a dull gray exterior complete with dents and a little bit of rust. Little Toad was the only car he had, so he took care of it, and the engine ran smoothly.
The tea house was a good hour drive from his apartment. But as Jaejoong said, it was isolated. Situated between a mountainside full of fancy villas and a protected parkland, the small house almost blended into the trees surrounding it. Designed after a pagoda, the sloping roofs burned red in the afternoon sunlight, the pillars and porches were a deep brown, and the drapes in the windows fluttered in rainbow colors.
A woman in a kimono greeted him in Japanese, and in slightly comprehensible Japanese, Yoochun said hello, introduced himself, and said he was meeting someone.
The woman smiled widely and bowed, and motioned Yoochun to remove his shoes. He did, and slid on the house slippers provided. He followed the tiny woman. He figured that Jaejoong was already here. His heart fluttered with every step. His breath went shallow. He rubbed his hands on his thighs.
Part of him knew that he shouldn’t be nervous. He’d hung out with Jaejoong twice now. But he wasn’t nervous in the same way a fan was nervous to meet their idol. He wasn’t nervous in a way that he services a new client.
The main issue.
Jaejoong was not a client. Not anymore.
Yoochun was not meeting Jaejoong as Micky, but as Yoochun. For the first time. Even after three days of phone conversations, he did not feel prepared for this.
A date, a potential boyfriend. Maybe.
Yoochun bit his lip. Maybe Jaejoong would not like Yoochun, even though he liked Micky. Micky was not Yoochun. Yoochun was not Micky.
“I am not Micky,” he whispered.
The woman looked over at him and then smiled widely. She stopped in front of a panel door and bowed before opening it.
Yoochun took a very deep breath.
Part 5: The Dating Game
Part 3: The Rules of the Game
Part 2: The Getting-To-Know-You Game
Part 1: The Drinking Game
.