Host with the Most 5/?
Title: Host with the Most 5/?
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 5: The Dating Game
Jaejoong looked amazing. Well, he always did, but today, he just ... glowed. It took a few seconds to realize that Jaejoong had dyed his hair and gotten a cut. A rusty red falling softly over his eyes. He stood up and smiled, and Yoochun swallowed to get moisture into his mouth. He wore a pair of tight jeans, and a clingy grey long sleeved shirt that gaped open at the chest. Teases of tattoo curls peaked from underneath it.
Yoochun felt slightly overdressed, but Jaejoong’s eyes scanned him, his black slacks, open white collared shirt, black suit jacket. He’d tried not to dress like a host, but it’d been a long time since he had been on a real date. But the widening of Jaejoong’s smile meant he approved.
“Hi,” Jaejoong said, whispered really.
Yoochun smiled. “Hello.”
The panel door shut behind him, and Jaejoong took a step and then stopped. Head tilted in confusion. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to kiss Yoochun yet.”
Yoochun chuckled. “I could be mean and make you wait for it, but I want a kiss too badly.”
Jaejoong almost stumbled on his way to Yoochun, and it was way too easy to slide his hands around Jaejoong’s small waist.
But when Jaejoong leaned in for a kiss, Yoochun leaned away.
Jaejoong pouted.
With a laugh, Yoochun tilted forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I like your hair.”
“Yours too,” Jaejoong said, and ran his hands through Yoochun’s long hair. He’d left it loose on purpose. Just because he was Yoochun now didn’t mean he’d forgotten how much Jaejoong had liked Micky’s long hair.
Jaejoong’s fingers tightened and their lips touched for a firmer kiss, and Yoochun relaxed and let Jaejoong kiss him for way longer than was appropriate in a tea house.
“Hi,” Jaejoong said against Yoochun’s lips.
Yoochun’s chest rumbled with deep laughter. “Hi.”
“Let’s stop before I tumble you to the floor.”
“I’m sure those pillows will cradle my head very well.”
Jaejoong laughed. “Yes, but this is a tea house, not a love motel.”
“Is that location number two on our date? Do you have a discrete and hidden love motel for your needs?”
Jaejoong smirked and let him go. “Maybe. Come on, sit.” He moved to a pillow and easily sat cross legged. Yoochun followed and sat across from him at the small table. They stared at each other for while, Jaejoong smiling widely, almost like he couldn’t help it.
“God, I’m just ... excited,” Jaejoong said. He picked up a small bell and rang it.
“Excited?”
“Yeah, for ... this, for you. I just ... God, I can’t talk.”
The door panel slid open, revealing another woman in a kimono. She shuffled in with the tea tray. They were quiet while she poured the tea, and Jaejoong just stared at him. It was a bit alarming and embarrassing, being the center of Jaejoong’s attention, but Yoochun fought the urge to look away.
With the tea poured and small sweet cakes served, the woman bowed and Jaejoong said thank you to her in perfect Japanese and called her by name.
“I’m going to completely embarrass myself,” Jaejoong said, “and tell you that I really like you. Yoochun I mean. I like Yoochun a lot.”
Yoochun smiled and sipped at his tea. “I like him, too.”
Jaejoong laughed. “Ass.”
“I like you too. It’s interesting,” Yoochun said and tilted his head.
“What is?”
“How we’re so much alike.”
“You think so?”
“So far. You’re ... well, I hate to put it this way, but you aren’t Hero. It’s interesting to see the differences and all the ways that you are just like Hero but all the ways you aren’t like him either.”
“And I get to find out all the ways you’re just like Micky.”
“Exactly.”
Jaejoong smiled. “So far so good.”
“Definitely.”
They sipped on their tea for a few minutes. Yoochun waited for it to get awkward.
“I don’t know what I want to talk about,” Jaejoong said, teacup shaking a little. “I just want to know everything about you. Where did you go to school? College? What interests you? What are you afraid of? What is your family like? Do you have any pets? How many times have you fallen in love? What is your--”
Yoochun held up a hand. “One question at a time.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Sorry. I’m excited.”
Yoochun put his teacup down and had a few pieces of the sweet cake that ended up being lemon. “I was born in Seoul, and my family lived there until I was twelve. And then my father decided to move us to America.”
“No way! So you speak English?”
“Yeah. My father wanted us to move there for a better life. I lived there until I was seventeen and came back here. I won a recruiting contest. Singing.”
Jaejoong’s eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”
Yoochun shook his head. “Nope. I was recruited and signed a contract with JYP. But I was never put in a group. I started hosting before I was twenty, just to get enough money to bring my brother back from America.”
“Your parents?”
“My father still lives there. My mother passed away right after I was recruited.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want anyone to suffer that kind of pain and emotion,” Yoochun whispered, “but everyone must.”
“I’m so lucky that I have not, and I know that. My father is getting so old. I love all my family, but I’m terrified to lose him. Every time I go visit them, I promise I’ll go more, and then I don’t, and then I worry that it’s the last time I’ll see my father alive. It’s probably my biggest fear.”
“Mine, too,” Yoochun said. “To lose Yoohwan, I mean.”
“He’s in school?”
Yoochun smiled. “In Japan. At a campus for an American university. He’s studying business and technology.”
“So that means, he’s going to an American university, but in Japan?”
“Yeah, and for one year, he’ll go to the main campus in America. I might go with him. I might not. I’m saving money for it now, so we’ll see. He’s only been there for a year, he still has two more years in Japan left.”
“Oh my god, I just realized that I have no idea how old you are.”
Yoochun laughed at the almost-horror like look on Jaejoong’s face. “I’ve never said,” Yoochun replied, “and I know that you’re older than me, so I just assumed ... anyway. I’m twenty-five.”
“I had no idea you were that much younger than me.”
“It’s only five years,” Yoochun pointed out, “and you don’t look a day over twenty-five, so whatever.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jaejoong assured him with a dismissive slash with his hand. “I just thought you were older. You’re ... more mature, I guess.”
“A seasoned veteran, hardened by the bullshit surrounding a host club.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “So you haven’t been to university?”
“No. I want to go though. Maybe Yoohwan has promised that as soon as he is done and has a job that it will be his turn to pay for me to go. I don’t really know if I want to though.”
“You can’t be a host forever.”
“I know. But it’s good money. So I’ll be there for as long as I still look like I’m twenty. Jinki is looking for an assistant manager. I might do that if the pay is enough to sway me away from hosting.”
“Isn’t there something else that can sway you away from hosting?”
Yoochun smiled, recognizing the hint. “Maybe.”
“I hate it when you say that.”
“Men are scum, remember?”
Jaejoong huffed.
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t had horrible relationships in the past.”
“I know,” Jaejoong said. “I just want to prove myself.”
“That’s what everyone wants in a relationship, right?”
“I guess.”
“And you are,” Yoochun reached across the small table, fingers spread. Jaejoong smiled widely and took his hand. “Even after a half hour, date number one is successful, at least to me, successful enough that I want a date number two, maybe even a date number three.”
Jaejoong’s smile widened. He took Yoochun’s hand loosely and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of his hand and then brushing his lips over Yoochun’s knuckles.
Yoochun’s throat tightened, cheeks flushing. He fought the urge to pull his hand away, especially when Jaejoong’s thumb rubbed under his hand, across his palm. He ducked his head, embarrassed but incredibly pleased. God, it was something he did as a host all the time, but to have it done to him, and in such a tender way that had no other expectations around it ...
Yoochun cleared his throat.
Chuckling, Jaejoong released his hand. “More tea? We can try something with orange or berry?”
Yoochun nodded. “You choose.”
Jaejoong smiled and rang the bell. Yoochun hid his hands under the tabled and hoped that Jaejoong hadn’t noticed them shaking.
---
“So,” Yoohwan started and kicked his socked feet up onto Yoochun’s coffee table. “What is it that you are so worried about telling me?”
Yoochun winced. “I’m that transparent, huh?”
“To me, yes.”
Yoochun rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I met someone.”
Yoohwan lifted an eyebrow. “A client?”
“Sort of? Not anymore. He’d rather date me, he said.”
Yoochun smiled. Jaejoong’s exact words after their date that afternoon had been, “I’d love to tumble you into a bed somewhere and make you forget your own name, but I want to date Yoochun more than I want to fuck Micky.”
“He came to the club just twice. I spent two entire nights with him.”
Yoohwan whistled. “That isn’t cheap. He can afford that?”
Yoochun winced again.
“He’s rich?”
“Very.”
“Famous?”
Yoochun took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Yoohwan put his feet back on the floor and leaned forward. “Sexy famous, or politician famous?”
Yoochun growled and started pacing in front of his television. “God, he’s sexy, Hwannie. Like, I’ve never ever connected with someone so soon. Physically sexy, yes, but I every time we talk, I feel like I’m fucking his soul. I’ve never thought I’d spent all my life with someone before I’d even gotten to know them.”
“Well, who is it? You can tell me, right?”
Yoochun stopped and motioned to a wall of his living room, where he had a built-in bookcase that was full of his music. “Kim Jaejoong.”
Silence.
He glanced over at Yoohwan, who had his mouth open and eyes wide with shock.
Yoochun smirked. “I’m serious. Look.” He pulled out his cell phone, to the silly selfie they took just before leaving the teahouse. Their cheeks pressed together, and Yoochun had not seen his own eyes look that happy in a very long time.
Yoohwan glanced at the phone and then at him. “This is huge.”
“I know.”
“You like him.”
“Yes. More ... he ... fuck, Yoohwan, when I talk to him, I feel like I’m talking to you. When he kisses me ...”
“You better not say it feels like I’m kissing you.”
Yoochun laughed, and then broke off with a harsh noise of pain. “It’s just ... I can’t ... he’s perfect, Hwannie. He’s perfect, but he’s famous and handsome and ... successful, and I’m just ... pathetic.”
“Do I need to slap you?” Yoohwan asked. “You’ve worked hard for what you’ve done. You’ve worked hard to keep me in school. You’ve worked hard to have a place to live. You should be proud of yourself. If he wants to date you in spite of you working mainly from your knees, then I guess you’re stuck with him.”
Yoochun collapsed on the couch and plopped his head on his brother’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. Is it really so possible to be so in love with someone without really understanding who they are? I’m so in love with his music, and his music is his soul, and the last four days have been so surreal. I don’t know what to do.” Yoochun switched to English. “Help me, Yoohwannie-Kanobi, you’re my only hope.”
“Fucker,” he said with a laugh, shoving Yoochun away. “You haven’t had a boyfriend for a really long time. You should let yourself see where this goes.”
“But I’m a fucking host.” Yoochun ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
“And it sounds like Kim Jaejoong-shi doesn’t mind.”
“I mind! It isn’t fair to him.”
“Or you. You think too much of other people, hyung. Think about yourself for a little while. You like him, he likes you. Just date him for a little while. Maybe he’ll end up being a needy, attention whore, and drive you away from pure annoyance.”
“He’s not like that.”
Yoohwan lifted an eyebrow at him.
With a huff, Yoochun stood up. “Disrespectful dongsaeng,” he muttered. “What do you want to eat?”
“Kimchi Jjigae.”
“Let’s go out.”
“Okay, hyung.”
---
“It won’t be forever, hyung,” Yoohwan said and let Yoochun hug him again. “I’ll be back the next time I have a long weekend.”
Yoochun sighed. “I know, but I miss you around the apartment. Work hard, okay?”
“I always do.”
A voice over their heads called for Yoohwan’s flight number.
“Let me go.”
Yoochun chuckled. “Fine, fine.” He thumped Yoohwan on the back. “Text me as soon as you land.”
“I’ll get off the plane first.”
Yoochun smiled and hugged Yoohwan tightly. “Yeah. Okay. But no later than ten seconds.”
“Bossy bossy.”
Yoochun finally let his brother go, and Yoohwan smiled. He hefted his bag over his shoulder and turned around. Every time Yoohwan came back, it was harder and harder to see him leave again.
A few meters away, Yoohwan turned around. “Love you, hyung!” he shouted and blew Yoochun a kiss.
Yoochun saw the looks the action received and made a very rude hand gesture back.
Yoohwan laughed, and then disappeared into the crowds at the security gate.
Yoochun turned away and took a deep breath to fight off the sting in his eyes. He waited until he was in his car before pulling out his cell phone.
Unsurprisingly, he had a text from his brother.
Yoochun Fighting! Next time I visit, I want to meet your famous rock star boyfriend! Love you!
Yoochun sent back a smiling face and a Not my boyfriend
Semantics
Yoochun told him to fuck off and then tossed his phone to the passenger seat and drove home. Sometimes with the traffic between the airport and his apartment, Yoohwan landed in Osaka before Yoochun made it home. Today he was lucky and made it home in good time. After three days with his brother, the apartment felt empty. Two and a half days. Maybe only two days if you were counting twenty-four hour periods. His next vacation wasn’t for months yet.
The bowl of ramen felt too big without his brother trying to steal half of it.
His phone beeped. Hyung, I’m safely landed in Osaka. Now, I’m getting off the plane and I’ll head home. Do you need me to tell you when I get there?
Yoochun chuckled and replied, Who are you? How did you get this number? Freak. I’ll call the police.
So not funny. I hate you.
Love you too! Call me when you need more money.
Don’t I always?
Yoochun smiled at the phone. Appetite gone, he trashed the rest of his lonely bowl of ramen and went into the living room. He sat on the sofa in the dark. The glow of his cell phone provided the only light. He scrolled through his call log to a number from Friday. He hadn’t called all weekend. Settling back on the couch, he called Jaejoong’s number.
To his surprise, Jaejoong answered.
“Hi,” Yoochun said, voice a little deeper than normal. “I was expecting your machine.”
“Yoochun-ah, hi,” Jaejoong said, voice actually sounding happy to hear from him. “I was about to walk out the door and almost ignored the phone, but I’m glad I answered. You okay? You sound upset?”
Yoochun smiled. “Just sending my brother back to school. It’s always difficult.”
“How was your visit?”
“Good. I miss him a lot.”
“I know how that is.”
“I want to see you.”
“I want to see you too.”
“Can you come over? Tonight? After the movie?”
Jaejoong hummed. “Maybe. If I can ditch the fangirls, then yes, I can. I’ll call you, not from this number, but my current cell number, or maybe even Changmin’s phone. But I’ll call you, probably around eleven or midnight.”
Yoochun smiled and said, “Okay.”
“Rest, beautiful,” Jaejoong whispered. “You sound so tired.”
“Just lonely.”
“Me too. Talk to you soon.”
Yoochun said goodbye and huffed as his phone brightened by his face. He yanked the blanket from the couch over his shoulder and stared at the light until it faded.
Part 6: The Confession Game
Part 4: The Telephone 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 5: The Dating Game
Jaejoong looked amazing. Well, he always did, but today, he just ... glowed. It took a few seconds to realize that Jaejoong had dyed his hair and gotten a cut. A rusty red falling softly over his eyes. He stood up and smiled, and Yoochun swallowed to get moisture into his mouth. He wore a pair of tight jeans, and a clingy grey long sleeved shirt that gaped open at the chest. Teases of tattoo curls peaked from underneath it.
Yoochun felt slightly overdressed, but Jaejoong’s eyes scanned him, his black slacks, open white collared shirt, black suit jacket. He’d tried not to dress like a host, but it’d been a long time since he had been on a real date. But the widening of Jaejoong’s smile meant he approved.
“Hi,” Jaejoong said, whispered really.
Yoochun smiled. “Hello.”
The panel door shut behind him, and Jaejoong took a step and then stopped. Head tilted in confusion. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to kiss Yoochun yet.”
Yoochun chuckled. “I could be mean and make you wait for it, but I want a kiss too badly.”
Jaejoong almost stumbled on his way to Yoochun, and it was way too easy to slide his hands around Jaejoong’s small waist.
But when Jaejoong leaned in for a kiss, Yoochun leaned away.
Jaejoong pouted.
With a laugh, Yoochun tilted forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I like your hair.”
“Yours too,” Jaejoong said, and ran his hands through Yoochun’s long hair. He’d left it loose on purpose. Just because he was Yoochun now didn’t mean he’d forgotten how much Jaejoong had liked Micky’s long hair.
Jaejoong’s fingers tightened and their lips touched for a firmer kiss, and Yoochun relaxed and let Jaejoong kiss him for way longer than was appropriate in a tea house.
“Hi,” Jaejoong said against Yoochun’s lips.
Yoochun’s chest rumbled with deep laughter. “Hi.”
“Let’s stop before I tumble you to the floor.”
“I’m sure those pillows will cradle my head very well.”
Jaejoong laughed. “Yes, but this is a tea house, not a love motel.”
“Is that location number two on our date? Do you have a discrete and hidden love motel for your needs?”
Jaejoong smirked and let him go. “Maybe. Come on, sit.” He moved to a pillow and easily sat cross legged. Yoochun followed and sat across from him at the small table. They stared at each other for while, Jaejoong smiling widely, almost like he couldn’t help it.
“God, I’m just ... excited,” Jaejoong said. He picked up a small bell and rang it.
“Excited?”
“Yeah, for ... this, for you. I just ... God, I can’t talk.”
The door panel slid open, revealing another woman in a kimono. She shuffled in with the tea tray. They were quiet while she poured the tea, and Jaejoong just stared at him. It was a bit alarming and embarrassing, being the center of Jaejoong’s attention, but Yoochun fought the urge to look away.
With the tea poured and small sweet cakes served, the woman bowed and Jaejoong said thank you to her in perfect Japanese and called her by name.
“I’m going to completely embarrass myself,” Jaejoong said, “and tell you that I really like you. Yoochun I mean. I like Yoochun a lot.”
Yoochun smiled and sipped at his tea. “I like him, too.”
Jaejoong laughed. “Ass.”
“I like you too. It’s interesting,” Yoochun said and tilted his head.
“What is?”
“How we’re so much alike.”
“You think so?”
“So far. You’re ... well, I hate to put it this way, but you aren’t Hero. It’s interesting to see the differences and all the ways that you are just like Hero but all the ways you aren’t like him either.”
“And I get to find out all the ways you’re just like Micky.”
“Exactly.”
Jaejoong smiled. “So far so good.”
“Definitely.”
They sipped on their tea for a few minutes. Yoochun waited for it to get awkward.
“I don’t know what I want to talk about,” Jaejoong said, teacup shaking a little. “I just want to know everything about you. Where did you go to school? College? What interests you? What are you afraid of? What is your family like? Do you have any pets? How many times have you fallen in love? What is your--”
Yoochun held up a hand. “One question at a time.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Sorry. I’m excited.”
Yoochun put his teacup down and had a few pieces of the sweet cake that ended up being lemon. “I was born in Seoul, and my family lived there until I was twelve. And then my father decided to move us to America.”
“No way! So you speak English?”
“Yeah. My father wanted us to move there for a better life. I lived there until I was seventeen and came back here. I won a recruiting contest. Singing.”
Jaejoong’s eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”
Yoochun shook his head. “Nope. I was recruited and signed a contract with JYP. But I was never put in a group. I started hosting before I was twenty, just to get enough money to bring my brother back from America.”
“Your parents?”
“My father still lives there. My mother passed away right after I was recruited.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want anyone to suffer that kind of pain and emotion,” Yoochun whispered, “but everyone must.”
“I’m so lucky that I have not, and I know that. My father is getting so old. I love all my family, but I’m terrified to lose him. Every time I go visit them, I promise I’ll go more, and then I don’t, and then I worry that it’s the last time I’ll see my father alive. It’s probably my biggest fear.”
“Mine, too,” Yoochun said. “To lose Yoohwan, I mean.”
“He’s in school?”
Yoochun smiled. “In Japan. At a campus for an American university. He’s studying business and technology.”
“So that means, he’s going to an American university, but in Japan?”
“Yeah, and for one year, he’ll go to the main campus in America. I might go with him. I might not. I’m saving money for it now, so we’ll see. He’s only been there for a year, he still has two more years in Japan left.”
“Oh my god, I just realized that I have no idea how old you are.”
Yoochun laughed at the almost-horror like look on Jaejoong’s face. “I’ve never said,” Yoochun replied, “and I know that you’re older than me, so I just assumed ... anyway. I’m twenty-five.”
“I had no idea you were that much younger than me.”
“It’s only five years,” Yoochun pointed out, “and you don’t look a day over twenty-five, so whatever.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jaejoong assured him with a dismissive slash with his hand. “I just thought you were older. You’re ... more mature, I guess.”
“A seasoned veteran, hardened by the bullshit surrounding a host club.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “So you haven’t been to university?”
“No. I want to go though. Maybe Yoohwan has promised that as soon as he is done and has a job that it will be his turn to pay for me to go. I don’t really know if I want to though.”
“You can’t be a host forever.”
“I know. But it’s good money. So I’ll be there for as long as I still look like I’m twenty. Jinki is looking for an assistant manager. I might do that if the pay is enough to sway me away from hosting.”
“Isn’t there something else that can sway you away from hosting?”
Yoochun smiled, recognizing the hint. “Maybe.”
“I hate it when you say that.”
“Men are scum, remember?”
Jaejoong huffed.
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t had horrible relationships in the past.”
“I know,” Jaejoong said. “I just want to prove myself.”
“That’s what everyone wants in a relationship, right?”
“I guess.”
“And you are,” Yoochun reached across the small table, fingers spread. Jaejoong smiled widely and took his hand. “Even after a half hour, date number one is successful, at least to me, successful enough that I want a date number two, maybe even a date number three.”
Jaejoong’s smile widened. He took Yoochun’s hand loosely and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of his hand and then brushing his lips over Yoochun’s knuckles.
Yoochun’s throat tightened, cheeks flushing. He fought the urge to pull his hand away, especially when Jaejoong’s thumb rubbed under his hand, across his palm. He ducked his head, embarrassed but incredibly pleased. God, it was something he did as a host all the time, but to have it done to him, and in such a tender way that had no other expectations around it ...
Yoochun cleared his throat.
Chuckling, Jaejoong released his hand. “More tea? We can try something with orange or berry?”
Yoochun nodded. “You choose.”
Jaejoong smiled and rang the bell. Yoochun hid his hands under the tabled and hoped that Jaejoong hadn’t noticed them shaking.
---
“So,” Yoohwan started and kicked his socked feet up onto Yoochun’s coffee table. “What is it that you are so worried about telling me?”
Yoochun winced. “I’m that transparent, huh?”
“To me, yes.”
Yoochun rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I met someone.”
Yoohwan lifted an eyebrow. “A client?”
“Sort of? Not anymore. He’d rather date me, he said.”
Yoochun smiled. Jaejoong’s exact words after their date that afternoon had been, “I’d love to tumble you into a bed somewhere and make you forget your own name, but I want to date Yoochun more than I want to fuck Micky.”
“He came to the club just twice. I spent two entire nights with him.”
Yoohwan whistled. “That isn’t cheap. He can afford that?”
Yoochun winced again.
“He’s rich?”
“Very.”
“Famous?”
Yoochun took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Yoohwan put his feet back on the floor and leaned forward. “Sexy famous, or politician famous?”
Yoochun growled and started pacing in front of his television. “God, he’s sexy, Hwannie. Like, I’ve never ever connected with someone so soon. Physically sexy, yes, but I every time we talk, I feel like I’m fucking his soul. I’ve never thought I’d spent all my life with someone before I’d even gotten to know them.”
“Well, who is it? You can tell me, right?”
Yoochun stopped and motioned to a wall of his living room, where he had a built-in bookcase that was full of his music. “Kim Jaejoong.”
Silence.
He glanced over at Yoohwan, who had his mouth open and eyes wide with shock.
Yoochun smirked. “I’m serious. Look.” He pulled out his cell phone, to the silly selfie they took just before leaving the teahouse. Their cheeks pressed together, and Yoochun had not seen his own eyes look that happy in a very long time.
Yoohwan glanced at the phone and then at him. “This is huge.”
“I know.”
“You like him.”
“Yes. More ... he ... fuck, Yoohwan, when I talk to him, I feel like I’m talking to you. When he kisses me ...”
“You better not say it feels like I’m kissing you.”
Yoochun laughed, and then broke off with a harsh noise of pain. “It’s just ... I can’t ... he’s perfect, Hwannie. He’s perfect, but he’s famous and handsome and ... successful, and I’m just ... pathetic.”
“Do I need to slap you?” Yoohwan asked. “You’ve worked hard for what you’ve done. You’ve worked hard to keep me in school. You’ve worked hard to have a place to live. You should be proud of yourself. If he wants to date you in spite of you working mainly from your knees, then I guess you’re stuck with him.”
Yoochun collapsed on the couch and plopped his head on his brother’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. Is it really so possible to be so in love with someone without really understanding who they are? I’m so in love with his music, and his music is his soul, and the last four days have been so surreal. I don’t know what to do.” Yoochun switched to English. “Help me, Yoohwannie-Kanobi, you’re my only hope.”
“Fucker,” he said with a laugh, shoving Yoochun away. “You haven’t had a boyfriend for a really long time. You should let yourself see where this goes.”
“But I’m a fucking host.” Yoochun ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
“And it sounds like Kim Jaejoong-shi doesn’t mind.”
“I mind! It isn’t fair to him.”
“Or you. You think too much of other people, hyung. Think about yourself for a little while. You like him, he likes you. Just date him for a little while. Maybe he’ll end up being a needy, attention whore, and drive you away from pure annoyance.”
“He’s not like that.”
Yoohwan lifted an eyebrow at him.
With a huff, Yoochun stood up. “Disrespectful dongsaeng,” he muttered. “What do you want to eat?”
“Kimchi Jjigae.”
“Let’s go out.”
“Okay, hyung.”
---
“It won’t be forever, hyung,” Yoohwan said and let Yoochun hug him again. “I’ll be back the next time I have a long weekend.”
Yoochun sighed. “I know, but I miss you around the apartment. Work hard, okay?”
“I always do.”
A voice over their heads called for Yoohwan’s flight number.
“Let me go.”
Yoochun chuckled. “Fine, fine.” He thumped Yoohwan on the back. “Text me as soon as you land.”
“I’ll get off the plane first.”
Yoochun smiled and hugged Yoohwan tightly. “Yeah. Okay. But no later than ten seconds.”
“Bossy bossy.”
Yoochun finally let his brother go, and Yoohwan smiled. He hefted his bag over his shoulder and turned around. Every time Yoohwan came back, it was harder and harder to see him leave again.
A few meters away, Yoohwan turned around. “Love you, hyung!” he shouted and blew Yoochun a kiss.
Yoochun saw the looks the action received and made a very rude hand gesture back.
Yoohwan laughed, and then disappeared into the crowds at the security gate.
Yoochun turned away and took a deep breath to fight off the sting in his eyes. He waited until he was in his car before pulling out his cell phone.
Unsurprisingly, he had a text from his brother.
Yoochun Fighting! Next time I visit, I want to meet your famous rock star boyfriend! Love you!
Yoochun sent back a smiling face and a Not my boyfriend
Semantics
Yoochun told him to fuck off and then tossed his phone to the passenger seat and drove home. Sometimes with the traffic between the airport and his apartment, Yoohwan landed in Osaka before Yoochun made it home. Today he was lucky and made it home in good time. After three days with his brother, the apartment felt empty. Two and a half days. Maybe only two days if you were counting twenty-four hour periods. His next vacation wasn’t for months yet.
The bowl of ramen felt too big without his brother trying to steal half of it.
His phone beeped. Hyung, I’m safely landed in Osaka. Now, I’m getting off the plane and I’ll head home. Do you need me to tell you when I get there?
Yoochun chuckled and replied, Who are you? How did you get this number? Freak. I’ll call the police.
So not funny. I hate you.
Love you too! Call me when you need more money.
Don’t I always?
Yoochun smiled at the phone. Appetite gone, he trashed the rest of his lonely bowl of ramen and went into the living room. He sat on the sofa in the dark. The glow of his cell phone provided the only light. He scrolled through his call log to a number from Friday. He hadn’t called all weekend. Settling back on the couch, he called Jaejoong’s number.
To his surprise, Jaejoong answered.
“Hi,” Yoochun said, voice a little deeper than normal. “I was expecting your machine.”
“Yoochun-ah, hi,” Jaejoong said, voice actually sounding happy to hear from him. “I was about to walk out the door and almost ignored the phone, but I’m glad I answered. You okay? You sound upset?”
Yoochun smiled. “Just sending my brother back to school. It’s always difficult.”
“How was your visit?”
“Good. I miss him a lot.”
“I know how that is.”
“I want to see you.”
“I want to see you too.”
“Can you come over? Tonight? After the movie?”
Jaejoong hummed. “Maybe. If I can ditch the fangirls, then yes, I can. I’ll call you, not from this number, but my current cell number, or maybe even Changmin’s phone. But I’ll call you, probably around eleven or midnight.”
Yoochun smiled and said, “Okay.”
“Rest, beautiful,” Jaejoong whispered. “You sound so tired.”
“Just lonely.”
“Me too. Talk to you soon.”
Yoochun said goodbye and huffed as his phone brightened by his face. He yanked the blanket from the couch over his shoulder and stared at the light until it faded.
Part 6: The Confession Game
Part 4: The Telephone Game
Part 3: The Rules of the Game
Part 2: The Getting-To-Know-You Game
Part 1: The Drinking Game
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