Host with the Most 7/?
Title: Host with the Most 7/?
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 7: The Game of Music
The night felt like a dream, and he dreamed of turns and dance steps, of smiles and laughter. He dreamed of a coffee shop romance, a moment meeting Jaejoong nothing like their first night in the host club. He dreamed of walks on crowded streets and dinner at restaurants on the beach. Kisses and touches and blowjobs and pleasure. Chest bursting love and devotion. Soft touches, fingers and lips.
Yoochun teetered and had no idea where his dream ended and where his life began. He lifted his arms, pulled at Jaejoong’s bare shoulders and deepened the kiss. Still a dream? He hoped not. Jaejoong steadied the kiss with even breaths and firm reaches of his tongue. Yoochun hovered between each one, a leg lifting and wrapping around Jaejoong’s waist.
Jaejoong moaned, and Yoochun’s mind twisted it through the happy, laughing images in his dreams. Such a nice sound.
Fingers danced down his chest, and Yoochun tangled his hands in Jaejoong’s hair, soft and wild, and he kept their mouths together, unwilling to pull away even to breathe. And even when Jaejoong’s palm pressed against his erection.
“Should stop,” Jaejoong muttered, curling his fingers around the cloth-covered cock.
Yoochun moaned and shook his head. “Stop in five minutes.”
Jaejoong laughed and stroked him firmly for a moment before twisting his hand and pushing fingers into the flap. Yoochun bit Jaejoong’s lower lip at the warm touch on his dick, and he lifted his hips in encouragement. Jaejoong pulled his cock through opening and pumped a little faster. Their lips and mouths and souls joined again, and Yoochun shook under the touch, the pleasure. The feeling of having someone bring him off because he wanted it, not because he was being paid for it.
Jaejoong shifted, his other arm going under Yoochun’s head, and his body rocked up against Yoochun’s leg. The sudden breathing in the room startled Yoochun awake. He was awake, and getting the handjob of his life from one of the most famous musicians in Asia.
“Fuck,” Yoochun whimpered.
Jaejoong sucked on his neck, pumping his hand faster, tighter, wetter. Yoochun clung to his shoulders, mouth open, gasps broken by static whimpers. Pleasure twisted fast and hot through him, coiling low in his stomach and spiraling out of his control. His back arched off the bed, hips jerking up into Jaejoong’s grip.
His whimpers were cut off, his cry muffled against a hot mouth, and everything went hazy and light. Very still.
Dreamlike. Foggy.
And then shattered.
Yoochun fell back to the bed with a cry, clinging against Jaejoong as he pumped his release in milky strands all over his stomach and in thick ribbons curling down Jaejoong’s knuckles.
Jaejoong kissed him, though with Yoochun’s mouth open and gasping for breath, it was more like Jaejoong sucking on his bottom lip.
He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to see a host room or a back room or a wad of bills near his body.
“Hey,” Jaejoong whispered and kissed his cheek. “You okay?”
Yoochun whimpered.
What a loaded question.
His eyes finally pried themselves open to the vision of Jaejoong above him. In his own bedroom. “So good.”
Jaejoong smiling.
Jaejoong touching.
Jaejoong kissing.
Yoochun moaned and pulled Jaejoong closer.
He resisted with a laugh. “Come on. I only meant to wake you up for breakfast. It’s probably cold now.”
Yoochun did not want to get up.
“I have coffee ready.”
Yoochun tilted his head, eyebrow lifted in interest.
Jaejoong laughed and fell against him, curled up against his body for a few more kisses. “You’re beautiful.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
Jaejoong laughed. “Ass. Come on.” He rolled to the side and off the bed. He wore his nice dress pants, and nothing on top, and Yoochun licked his lips as he walked out the door. But he paused for a moment, turning back to look at Yoochun.
He smiled. “Come on, beautiful. It’s almost too late in the morning for me to sneak away.”
Yoochun sat up and moved to the end of the bed. His boxers were ruined. He slipped them off and used them to wipe most of the goop from his skin. He thought of dressing to go to the bathroom and decided not to. Jaejoong was in the kitchen. With a heavy yawn, he lumbered across the hall to use the bathroom and clean up a little bit. Wake up some, too, though that would not happen until he had coffee.
Even not completely awake, he noticed the smile on his face. A natural thing. A loopy thing. When was the last time that smiling was so comfortable?
He went back to the bedroom to cover up a little bit and then staggered into the kitchen, mostly clean but wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Jaejoong sat at his table, still topless, and sipped at a cup of coffee, but he stood up as soon as Yoochun entered.
It was too easy to follow the pull and end up in Jaejoong’s arms, face against the warm skin of his shoulder. Jaejoong wrapped his hands around Yoochun’s back and their lips met.
“Sorry,” Jaejoong whispered.
“For what?”
“Attacking you in bed.”
Yoochun laughed. “It’s okay. No complaints.”
“But we aren’t--”
Yoochun kissed him. “It’s fine. More than fine. I enjoyed it if you didn’t notice.”
Jaejoong frowned.
Yoochun leaned forward for a kiss. “You’re too pretty to frown.”
“Such a line,” Jaejoong tried, but without the humor from before.
“Can I tell you about my dreams?”
Jaejoong nodded, looking intrigued.
“Life. More than one. Over and over. You and me. Meeting in school. In a coffee shop. Meeting at the park. In one of them you almost ran me over with your car. And then we walked and talked. Fucked and kissed. You weren’t famous, I wasn’t a host. It was just ... Life. Over and over again.”
Jaejoong smiled.
“I don’t want you to worry so much about what is right and what is proper between us. I have never, ever felt like a host with you. Ever. Even the first night, I tried to treat you like a host would treat a client and I failed. I like you a lot. More than I have ever liked anyone. Just ... do what you want, okay? Don’t over think things because of who I am and who you are.”
“And now I want to tumble you back into bed and fuck your brains out, but I don’t have time.”
Yoochun laughed and pulled away. “Next time.” He went to the coffee pot.
“When is next time?”
“You’re the famous rockstar,” he said with a smirk over his shoulder. “You tell me.”
“Thursday? For tea?”
Yoochun smiled. “I have to work, but afternoon tea sounds good.”
---
Yoochun had heard the phrase “whirlwind romance” so many times in his life. But he never really understood what it meant until the next few days flew by. He spent more time on the phone with Jaejoong, laughing and smiling, than he ever had with anyone but his brother.
Most of the time, he had no idea the next day what they even talked about.
Early Thursday morning, after hanging up the phone with Jaejoong and with his heart and mind and body thrumming with the echoes of Jaejoong’s laughter, Yoochun thought that he finally figured out what his brother meant by “it’s too happy for the melancholy.”
The notes fit well together, but his brother was right, even if he did not know how to describe it. It was too slow, the pacing. Maybe too typical of a love song. He had not had much more than the hook stuck in his head before he sat down to write around it. But the hook had been just a few half notes. He changed them to quarter and eighth notes, staccato and light. The verses he went for longer, half notes and whole notes, interrupted by a quick echo of the chorus in the middle. With the melody secure, it was easy to work on the harmony. It was easy to imagine how his voice would play with Jaejoong’s if they sang the song together, even if there were no lyrics yet. And the beat, the slow beat from before was replaced by a faster pace. In the end, Yoochun had four piano lines recorded and overlaid, forming a pretty decent song. Not perfect. But good enough to share.
And the growling of his stomach, the sudden brightness in his vision, let him know it was well into the morning.
He checked the clock. Almost ten. Fuck. He thought about taking a quick nap, and decided not to. He did not want to risk over sleeping. Instead, he started the process of downloading his song onto an mp3 and then went to the bathroom for a quick shower and decided to go out for whatever meal this was before he met Jaejoong for tea at noon.
---
Yoochun was aware of being someplace. In a room. Where it smelled of flowers, fruit, and spices. He knew that. He was aware of his jeans, his boots, his bright t-shirt. But while he knew all of that existed, the only thing that mattered was in his arms.
And against his lips.
“You look so tired,” Jaejoong whispered, fingers soft against Yoochun’s cheek.
“Didn’t sleep. Here sit.”
Jaejoong smiled and did not protest when Yoochun sat next to him, their knees pressed together, instead of across from him like the last time. He rang the bell for tea, and Yoochun fiddled with the wires of his earbuds, trying to keep his hands from shaking.
As soon as the tea was poured and the woman gone, Yoochun pushed an earbud into Jaejoong’s ear and said, “Listen.”
He waited to be nervous as the first slow strands of piano weaved through their ears, but it did not come. The song was Jaejoong, everything that Yoochun knew about him, expressed in notes and a beat. It belonged to Jaejoong as much as it belonged to him.
Jaejoong’s eyes went wide after only a few seconds. He gripped Yoochun’s knees, smiling as the song continued, through the jumpy bridge and the beat-filled hook.
Yoochun smiled, kept his attention on him, a hand on his thigh, playing with the rips in his jeans.
“Again,” Jaejoong said as the last few piano notes filtered through the song.
Yoochun repeated the song, and then halfway through, could no longer bear to watch when what he was listening to sounded so happy, so light, so perfect. He twisted around, and Jaejoong’s hands went to his waist, their lips together, tongue diving into mouths right on beat with the song. When it ended, Jaejoong demanded one more repeat.
Yoochun chuckled but obliged and then spent the next four minutes kissing him again.
“Tea’s cold,” Jaejoong murmured after the song ended for the third time.
“Probably,” Yoochun replied, taking another kiss.
“Good song.”
“Thanks.” Yoochun pulled away for a moment. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, and then said carefully, “It’s called ‘Soul Mates’.”
Jaejoong’s smile widened. “Perfect. Happy.”
“Sexy.”
“With the right dance.”
“From you?” Yoochun asked with a raised eyebrow.
Jaejoong gasped in mock anger. “I can dance. I am very good at hip thrusts.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Want to see?”
“Not a love motel.”
Jaejoong cursed. “Damn it.”
Yoochun laughed and climbed off his lap. He did not go far, just sitting far enough away to drink his tea.
“You’re a really good songwriter,” Jaejoong whispered.
Yoochun swallowed, but said nothing.
“I want to demand to know why you aren’t selling your music, but I totally understand, but if you change your mind, I know someone that owns a music agency with songwriter connections.”
Yoochun laughed. “Okay.”
Jaejoong shifted just enough to be leaning against Yoochun, and Yoochun did the same, not hesitating to plop his head on Jaejoong’s strong shoulder.
“Can we listen to it again?”
Yoochun chuckled. “Sure.”
After three more times, Jaejoong asked, “Are you going to write lyrics to it?”
Yoochun shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t always write lyrics. It’s easier for me to express myself through music.”
“Same here. There is a reason why Kim Junho and Junsu have so many lyric credits on my albums. Oh, hey, that reminds me. The Kim Twins are having a party and I’ve been told that I have to invite you.”
“Have to?” Yoochun said, voice rising a bit. The Kim Twins was and had been one of the most popular duos for almost ten years.
“Yeah. Junsu’s exact words were, ‘this boy of yours doesn’t exist until we all meet him,’ and so far the only ones that you’ve meet are Hyunjoong and Changmin.”
Yoochun swallowed. Meeting the Kim Twins? “Dare I ask who else?”
Jaejoong bit his lip and cleared his throat. “Um, Heechul, Yunho, Kangin, the rest of Hero, and well, some other people.”
“You have a lot of friend. Oh god,” Yoochun whispered.
“They’re all pretty normal,” Jaejoong defended.
“Like you.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Yes. But you’re not allowed to kiss any of them. It fucking pisses me off that you’ve had Hyunjoong down your throat.”
Yoochun shook his head. “Not me. Micky.”
Jaejoong stuck his tongue out.
With a laugh, Yoochun leaned forward and kissed him. “When’s the party?”
“Next weekend. On Saturday.”
Yoochun frowned. “I’ll ask Jinki if I can leave early that night, or have the day off. I might already have appointments.”
“I thought Jinki did not let people request you.”
“He’s had to change things a little bit because of you.”
“What? Me?”
Yoochun chuckled. “Kim Jaejoong was spotted coming out of a karaoke club. We’re too popular now. We actually have to do karaoke. Some of us. Jinki usually gives the more popular hosts clients.”
“I hate that you’re a popular host.”
Yoochun smiled and went in for another kiss. “I know. But you do like that I didn’t sleep because I was writing you a song.”
Jaejoong’s frown blossomed into a beautiful smile.
“Are you busy? Can you come over before I have to work?”
Jaejoong wrapped his arms around him. “For kisses or sleep?”
“Definitely kisses.”
---
It took a bit of planning for Jaejoong to sneak around the city and end up at Yoochun’s undiscovered, but he was used to it.
And even though it had only happened one other time before, Yoochun was used to Jaejoong in his apartment.
“Are you hungry?” he asked with his arms still wrapped around Yoochun, their cheeks still pressed together. “I can make us something to eat.”
Yoochun smiled. “Maybe later. I know I said I wanted to sleep but ...” He pulled away and went to his CD case. There was a CD hidden amongst the American rock albums. It was a clear jewel case, hardly noticeable. He removed it and smiled as he put it into the CD player.
His brother’s voice said, “Since you’re an idiot, and you won’t ever sell any of your music. A compilation of all my favorite songs. Your first album better be titled, ‘My Dongsaeng is the Greatest Dongsaeng in the Entire World.’”
He turned to Jaejoong just as the first note of a piano filtered through the speakers. He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
Jaejoong smiled brightly, and then his eyes widened when Yoochun’s voice sang the first line of the song, “Home is a feeling, and not a place to be.”
He scurried to Yoochun, and as before, took his hand and put an arm around his waist. He pulled Yoochun close enough for a short kiss and then danced with him, around the coffee table, around the couch, a few side steps took them up and down the hall, and then into the kitchen, swirling on socked feet around the table.
They danced through five songs, Jaejoong changing their steps through the jazzy one that was probably Yoohwan’s favorite song of his.
“God, you’re amazing,” Jaejoong whispered. “JYP sure lost out not letting you do what you want. Seriously. Sell me some songs. I need good music.”
“Your music is good.”
“Yours is better.”
Yoochun felt himself flush. He also fought the urge to stop the CD. The next song was a bit personal, and he did not really want Jaejoong to hear it. All in, Park Yoochun. All in.
The piano started, fast and heavy, in a minor key, and angry.
Jaejoong stopped them, head tilted as he listened.
The intro stopped, and Yoochun’s voice sang the first words of the song before the piano started again, still in a harsh minor key.
I love you
Lying is so easy
For you
But for me
Lying is so smooth
Lying is so sweet.
I love you
Loving is so easy
For you
But for me
Loving is so torn
Loving is so cruel
You left me cold
confused, alone
Unsatisfied and bruised.
You left me down
broken, alone
Unaware, twisted, and hurt.
I love you
Leaving is so easy
For you
But for me
Leaving is so dark
Leaving is so frozen.
You left me cold
You left me bruised
You left me broken and alone.
But I love you.
Jaejoong looked like he might cry, and Yoochun smiled and touched his cheek. “It was a long time ago.”
Jaejoong hugged Yoochun against his chest.
Yoochun smiled and whispered, “He was a client. I was only twenty. Everything he promised sounded glorious. Everything he needed and wanted, I gave him. No one at the club knew we were dating. He was the first one that I ever let fuck me as a host. And then one day, I walked into a room and saw him fucking one of the other boys. He saw me, the other boy didn’t, and while looking right at me, he started whispering all the same words of love and devotion to him as he did to me.”
“Men are scum.”
Yoochun chuckled. “They are.”
The last song on the album was just piano, just slow enough for a dance, and Jaejoong pulled Yoochun close and swayed. When the last note faded, Jaejoong kissed him.
“Let’s go to bed,” Yoochun whispered.
Jaejoong smiled, and without releasing him, danced them back down the hall. Yoochun laughed. In the middle of his bedroom, Jaejoong spun him under his arm, pulled him back and stepped into an easy waltz.
“Don’t want to let you go.”
Yoochun moved them toward the bed. “We can dance on the bed.”
Jaejoong moaned and followed Yoochun down, crawling over him, shifting back to the middle of the bed. Yoochun wrapped his arms around Jaejoong’s neck and pulled him down for a long kiss.
“I thought we were sleeping,” Jaejoong murmured with Yoochun’s hands under his shirt, pushing up to pull it off.
Yoochun smiled and tugged on the shirt. “I thought we were dancing.”
Part 8: Sexy Games
Part 6: The Confession Game
Part 5: The Dating 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 7: The Game of Music
The night felt like a dream, and he dreamed of turns and dance steps, of smiles and laughter. He dreamed of a coffee shop romance, a moment meeting Jaejoong nothing like their first night in the host club. He dreamed of walks on crowded streets and dinner at restaurants on the beach. Kisses and touches and blowjobs and pleasure. Chest bursting love and devotion. Soft touches, fingers and lips.
Yoochun teetered and had no idea where his dream ended and where his life began. He lifted his arms, pulled at Jaejoong’s bare shoulders and deepened the kiss. Still a dream? He hoped not. Jaejoong steadied the kiss with even breaths and firm reaches of his tongue. Yoochun hovered between each one, a leg lifting and wrapping around Jaejoong’s waist.
Jaejoong moaned, and Yoochun’s mind twisted it through the happy, laughing images in his dreams. Such a nice sound.
Fingers danced down his chest, and Yoochun tangled his hands in Jaejoong’s hair, soft and wild, and he kept their mouths together, unwilling to pull away even to breathe. And even when Jaejoong’s palm pressed against his erection.
“Should stop,” Jaejoong muttered, curling his fingers around the cloth-covered cock.
Yoochun moaned and shook his head. “Stop in five minutes.”
Jaejoong laughed and stroked him firmly for a moment before twisting his hand and pushing fingers into the flap. Yoochun bit Jaejoong’s lower lip at the warm touch on his dick, and he lifted his hips in encouragement. Jaejoong pulled his cock through opening and pumped a little faster. Their lips and mouths and souls joined again, and Yoochun shook under the touch, the pleasure. The feeling of having someone bring him off because he wanted it, not because he was being paid for it.
Jaejoong shifted, his other arm going under Yoochun’s head, and his body rocked up against Yoochun’s leg. The sudden breathing in the room startled Yoochun awake. He was awake, and getting the handjob of his life from one of the most famous musicians in Asia.
“Fuck,” Yoochun whimpered.
Jaejoong sucked on his neck, pumping his hand faster, tighter, wetter. Yoochun clung to his shoulders, mouth open, gasps broken by static whimpers. Pleasure twisted fast and hot through him, coiling low in his stomach and spiraling out of his control. His back arched off the bed, hips jerking up into Jaejoong’s grip.
His whimpers were cut off, his cry muffled against a hot mouth, and everything went hazy and light. Very still.
Dreamlike. Foggy.
And then shattered.
Yoochun fell back to the bed with a cry, clinging against Jaejoong as he pumped his release in milky strands all over his stomach and in thick ribbons curling down Jaejoong’s knuckles.
Jaejoong kissed him, though with Yoochun’s mouth open and gasping for breath, it was more like Jaejoong sucking on his bottom lip.
He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to see a host room or a back room or a wad of bills near his body.
“Hey,” Jaejoong whispered and kissed his cheek. “You okay?”
Yoochun whimpered.
What a loaded question.
His eyes finally pried themselves open to the vision of Jaejoong above him. In his own bedroom. “So good.”
Jaejoong smiling.
Jaejoong touching.
Jaejoong kissing.
Yoochun moaned and pulled Jaejoong closer.
He resisted with a laugh. “Come on. I only meant to wake you up for breakfast. It’s probably cold now.”
Yoochun did not want to get up.
“I have coffee ready.”
Yoochun tilted his head, eyebrow lifted in interest.
Jaejoong laughed and fell against him, curled up against his body for a few more kisses. “You’re beautiful.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
Jaejoong laughed. “Ass. Come on.” He rolled to the side and off the bed. He wore his nice dress pants, and nothing on top, and Yoochun licked his lips as he walked out the door. But he paused for a moment, turning back to look at Yoochun.
He smiled. “Come on, beautiful. It’s almost too late in the morning for me to sneak away.”
Yoochun sat up and moved to the end of the bed. His boxers were ruined. He slipped them off and used them to wipe most of the goop from his skin. He thought of dressing to go to the bathroom and decided not to. Jaejoong was in the kitchen. With a heavy yawn, he lumbered across the hall to use the bathroom and clean up a little bit. Wake up some, too, though that would not happen until he had coffee.
Even not completely awake, he noticed the smile on his face. A natural thing. A loopy thing. When was the last time that smiling was so comfortable?
He went back to the bedroom to cover up a little bit and then staggered into the kitchen, mostly clean but wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Jaejoong sat at his table, still topless, and sipped at a cup of coffee, but he stood up as soon as Yoochun entered.
It was too easy to follow the pull and end up in Jaejoong’s arms, face against the warm skin of his shoulder. Jaejoong wrapped his hands around Yoochun’s back and their lips met.
“Sorry,” Jaejoong whispered.
“For what?”
“Attacking you in bed.”
Yoochun laughed. “It’s okay. No complaints.”
“But we aren’t--”
Yoochun kissed him. “It’s fine. More than fine. I enjoyed it if you didn’t notice.”
Jaejoong frowned.
Yoochun leaned forward for a kiss. “You’re too pretty to frown.”
“Such a line,” Jaejoong tried, but without the humor from before.
“Can I tell you about my dreams?”
Jaejoong nodded, looking intrigued.
“Life. More than one. Over and over. You and me. Meeting in school. In a coffee shop. Meeting at the park. In one of them you almost ran me over with your car. And then we walked and talked. Fucked and kissed. You weren’t famous, I wasn’t a host. It was just ... Life. Over and over again.”
Jaejoong smiled.
“I don’t want you to worry so much about what is right and what is proper between us. I have never, ever felt like a host with you. Ever. Even the first night, I tried to treat you like a host would treat a client and I failed. I like you a lot. More than I have ever liked anyone. Just ... do what you want, okay? Don’t over think things because of who I am and who you are.”
“And now I want to tumble you back into bed and fuck your brains out, but I don’t have time.”
Yoochun laughed and pulled away. “Next time.” He went to the coffee pot.
“When is next time?”
“You’re the famous rockstar,” he said with a smirk over his shoulder. “You tell me.”
“Thursday? For tea?”
Yoochun smiled. “I have to work, but afternoon tea sounds good.”
---
Yoochun had heard the phrase “whirlwind romance” so many times in his life. But he never really understood what it meant until the next few days flew by. He spent more time on the phone with Jaejoong, laughing and smiling, than he ever had with anyone but his brother.
Most of the time, he had no idea the next day what they even talked about.
Early Thursday morning, after hanging up the phone with Jaejoong and with his heart and mind and body thrumming with the echoes of Jaejoong’s laughter, Yoochun thought that he finally figured out what his brother meant by “it’s too happy for the melancholy.”
The notes fit well together, but his brother was right, even if he did not know how to describe it. It was too slow, the pacing. Maybe too typical of a love song. He had not had much more than the hook stuck in his head before he sat down to write around it. But the hook had been just a few half notes. He changed them to quarter and eighth notes, staccato and light. The verses he went for longer, half notes and whole notes, interrupted by a quick echo of the chorus in the middle. With the melody secure, it was easy to work on the harmony. It was easy to imagine how his voice would play with Jaejoong’s if they sang the song together, even if there were no lyrics yet. And the beat, the slow beat from before was replaced by a faster pace. In the end, Yoochun had four piano lines recorded and overlaid, forming a pretty decent song. Not perfect. But good enough to share.
And the growling of his stomach, the sudden brightness in his vision, let him know it was well into the morning.
He checked the clock. Almost ten. Fuck. He thought about taking a quick nap, and decided not to. He did not want to risk over sleeping. Instead, he started the process of downloading his song onto an mp3 and then went to the bathroom for a quick shower and decided to go out for whatever meal this was before he met Jaejoong for tea at noon.
---
Yoochun was aware of being someplace. In a room. Where it smelled of flowers, fruit, and spices. He knew that. He was aware of his jeans, his boots, his bright t-shirt. But while he knew all of that existed, the only thing that mattered was in his arms.
And against his lips.
“You look so tired,” Jaejoong whispered, fingers soft against Yoochun’s cheek.
“Didn’t sleep. Here sit.”
Jaejoong smiled and did not protest when Yoochun sat next to him, their knees pressed together, instead of across from him like the last time. He rang the bell for tea, and Yoochun fiddled with the wires of his earbuds, trying to keep his hands from shaking.
As soon as the tea was poured and the woman gone, Yoochun pushed an earbud into Jaejoong’s ear and said, “Listen.”
He waited to be nervous as the first slow strands of piano weaved through their ears, but it did not come. The song was Jaejoong, everything that Yoochun knew about him, expressed in notes and a beat. It belonged to Jaejoong as much as it belonged to him.
Jaejoong’s eyes went wide after only a few seconds. He gripped Yoochun’s knees, smiling as the song continued, through the jumpy bridge and the beat-filled hook.
Yoochun smiled, kept his attention on him, a hand on his thigh, playing with the rips in his jeans.
“Again,” Jaejoong said as the last few piano notes filtered through the song.
Yoochun repeated the song, and then halfway through, could no longer bear to watch when what he was listening to sounded so happy, so light, so perfect. He twisted around, and Jaejoong’s hands went to his waist, their lips together, tongue diving into mouths right on beat with the song. When it ended, Jaejoong demanded one more repeat.
Yoochun chuckled but obliged and then spent the next four minutes kissing him again.
“Tea’s cold,” Jaejoong murmured after the song ended for the third time.
“Probably,” Yoochun replied, taking another kiss.
“Good song.”
“Thanks.” Yoochun pulled away for a moment. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, and then said carefully, “It’s called ‘Soul Mates’.”
Jaejoong’s smile widened. “Perfect. Happy.”
“Sexy.”
“With the right dance.”
“From you?” Yoochun asked with a raised eyebrow.
Jaejoong gasped in mock anger. “I can dance. I am very good at hip thrusts.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Want to see?”
“Not a love motel.”
Jaejoong cursed. “Damn it.”
Yoochun laughed and climbed off his lap. He did not go far, just sitting far enough away to drink his tea.
“You’re a really good songwriter,” Jaejoong whispered.
Yoochun swallowed, but said nothing.
“I want to demand to know why you aren’t selling your music, but I totally understand, but if you change your mind, I know someone that owns a music agency with songwriter connections.”
Yoochun laughed. “Okay.”
Jaejoong shifted just enough to be leaning against Yoochun, and Yoochun did the same, not hesitating to plop his head on Jaejoong’s strong shoulder.
“Can we listen to it again?”
Yoochun chuckled. “Sure.”
After three more times, Jaejoong asked, “Are you going to write lyrics to it?”
Yoochun shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t always write lyrics. It’s easier for me to express myself through music.”
“Same here. There is a reason why Kim Junho and Junsu have so many lyric credits on my albums. Oh, hey, that reminds me. The Kim Twins are having a party and I’ve been told that I have to invite you.”
“Have to?” Yoochun said, voice rising a bit. The Kim Twins was and had been one of the most popular duos for almost ten years.
“Yeah. Junsu’s exact words were, ‘this boy of yours doesn’t exist until we all meet him,’ and so far the only ones that you’ve meet are Hyunjoong and Changmin.”
Yoochun swallowed. Meeting the Kim Twins? “Dare I ask who else?”
Jaejoong bit his lip and cleared his throat. “Um, Heechul, Yunho, Kangin, the rest of Hero, and well, some other people.”
“You have a lot of friend. Oh god,” Yoochun whispered.
“They’re all pretty normal,” Jaejoong defended.
“Like you.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “Yes. But you’re not allowed to kiss any of them. It fucking pisses me off that you’ve had Hyunjoong down your throat.”
Yoochun shook his head. “Not me. Micky.”
Jaejoong stuck his tongue out.
With a laugh, Yoochun leaned forward and kissed him. “When’s the party?”
“Next weekend. On Saturday.”
Yoochun frowned. “I’ll ask Jinki if I can leave early that night, or have the day off. I might already have appointments.”
“I thought Jinki did not let people request you.”
“He’s had to change things a little bit because of you.”
“What? Me?”
Yoochun chuckled. “Kim Jaejoong was spotted coming out of a karaoke club. We’re too popular now. We actually have to do karaoke. Some of us. Jinki usually gives the more popular hosts clients.”
“I hate that you’re a popular host.”
Yoochun smiled and went in for another kiss. “I know. But you do like that I didn’t sleep because I was writing you a song.”
Jaejoong’s frown blossomed into a beautiful smile.
“Are you busy? Can you come over before I have to work?”
Jaejoong wrapped his arms around him. “For kisses or sleep?”
“Definitely kisses.”
---
It took a bit of planning for Jaejoong to sneak around the city and end up at Yoochun’s undiscovered, but he was used to it.
And even though it had only happened one other time before, Yoochun was used to Jaejoong in his apartment.
“Are you hungry?” he asked with his arms still wrapped around Yoochun, their cheeks still pressed together. “I can make us something to eat.”
Yoochun smiled. “Maybe later. I know I said I wanted to sleep but ...” He pulled away and went to his CD case. There was a CD hidden amongst the American rock albums. It was a clear jewel case, hardly noticeable. He removed it and smiled as he put it into the CD player.
His brother’s voice said, “Since you’re an idiot, and you won’t ever sell any of your music. A compilation of all my favorite songs. Your first album better be titled, ‘My Dongsaeng is the Greatest Dongsaeng in the Entire World.’”
He turned to Jaejoong just as the first note of a piano filtered through the speakers. He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
Jaejoong smiled brightly, and then his eyes widened when Yoochun’s voice sang the first line of the song, “Home is a feeling, and not a place to be.”
He scurried to Yoochun, and as before, took his hand and put an arm around his waist. He pulled Yoochun close enough for a short kiss and then danced with him, around the coffee table, around the couch, a few side steps took them up and down the hall, and then into the kitchen, swirling on socked feet around the table.
They danced through five songs, Jaejoong changing their steps through the jazzy one that was probably Yoohwan’s favorite song of his.
“God, you’re amazing,” Jaejoong whispered. “JYP sure lost out not letting you do what you want. Seriously. Sell me some songs. I need good music.”
“Your music is good.”
“Yours is better.”
Yoochun felt himself flush. He also fought the urge to stop the CD. The next song was a bit personal, and he did not really want Jaejoong to hear it. All in, Park Yoochun. All in.
The piano started, fast and heavy, in a minor key, and angry.
Jaejoong stopped them, head tilted as he listened.
The intro stopped, and Yoochun’s voice sang the first words of the song before the piano started again, still in a harsh minor key.
I love you
Lying is so easy
For you
But for me
Lying is so smooth
Lying is so sweet.
I love you
Loving is so easy
For you
But for me
Loving is so torn
Loving is so cruel
You left me cold
confused, alone
Unsatisfied and bruised.
You left me down
broken, alone
Unaware, twisted, and hurt.
I love you
Leaving is so easy
For you
But for me
Leaving is so dark
Leaving is so frozen.
You left me cold
You left me bruised
You left me broken and alone.
But I love you.
Jaejoong looked like he might cry, and Yoochun smiled and touched his cheek. “It was a long time ago.”
Jaejoong hugged Yoochun against his chest.
Yoochun smiled and whispered, “He was a client. I was only twenty. Everything he promised sounded glorious. Everything he needed and wanted, I gave him. No one at the club knew we were dating. He was the first one that I ever let fuck me as a host. And then one day, I walked into a room and saw him fucking one of the other boys. He saw me, the other boy didn’t, and while looking right at me, he started whispering all the same words of love and devotion to him as he did to me.”
“Men are scum.”
Yoochun chuckled. “They are.”
The last song on the album was just piano, just slow enough for a dance, and Jaejoong pulled Yoochun close and swayed. When the last note faded, Jaejoong kissed him.
“Let’s go to bed,” Yoochun whispered.
Jaejoong smiled, and without releasing him, danced them back down the hall. Yoochun laughed. In the middle of his bedroom, Jaejoong spun him under his arm, pulled him back and stepped into an easy waltz.
“Don’t want to let you go.”
Yoochun moved them toward the bed. “We can dance on the bed.”
Jaejoong moaned and followed Yoochun down, crawling over him, shifting back to the middle of the bed. Yoochun wrapped his arms around Jaejoong’s neck and pulled him down for a long kiss.
“I thought we were sleeping,” Jaejoong murmured with Yoochun’s hands under his shirt, pushing up to pull it off.
Yoochun smiled and tugged on the shirt. “I thought we were dancing.”
Part 8: Sexy Games
Part 6: The Confession Game
Part 5: The Dating 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
.