lagoon (1/4)
title: lagoon
pairing: jb/jr, mark/jackson
rating: nc-17
summary: in elegant terms, jaebum is jinyoung's sponsor. in inelegant terms, he's jinyoung's sugar daddy. (side story to lapis lazuli)
notes: for nanakirae and xfragments ♥
Up until Jinyoung's twenty-fifth year, the colour blue has never held any special significance for him. Up until the day he meets Im Jaebum for the first time, standing on the deck of a luxury yatch, framed by acres of open, cornflower blue sky, the ocean an almost transparent sheet of rippling aquamarine behind him, stretching endlessly to meet at the horizon. Im Jaebum, billionaire, successor of Im Enterprises, richer than Croesus and the owner of this sprawling, private yatch. But at that time, Jinyoung doesn't know any of this yet. All he thinks is that this tall, swarthy guy sporting an impeccably coiffed, obviously-more-expensive-than-Jinyoung's-yearly-salary dye job and an elegantly understated but undoubtedly designer three-piece suit looks like a royal douchebag.
Jinyoung pauses a distance away, moving his hand discreetly behind him to lean unsteadily against the railing and convinces himself that the reason his breathing suddenly feels too shallow is because of the blinding expanse of sheer blue and not the way the man's hair, a jet black that is impossibly darker than the stern charcoal of his suit and can't be natural gleams like the slick coat of a black seal underneath the late afternoon sun. The way his eyes are raking boldly down the length of Jinyoung's body, from his head to his toes with a blistering intensity that makes Jinyoung feel suddenly stripped of clothes, bare and exposed.
Jinyoung's mouth feels parched, his throat dry and head light as the man cocks his head slightly, lowering his champagne glass from his lips as an almost indiscernible smile spreads over them. It's a smile that is oddly frightening, pleased and predatory all at once and Jinyoung sees the unmistakable glint of interest in his eyes, his own caught entranced by the man's tongue slipping out of his mouth to wet his chapped lips. When he looks up again, the man's eyes have darkened, narrowed with an uncanny amusement that gives Jinyoung the impression that he can read every thought flitting through Jinyoung's mind like drunken butterflies colliding. He takes an imperceptible step towards Jinyoung, and Jinyoung backs away instinctively, seized by an urge to run and an even more powerful force rooting him to the ground, spellbound.
The corners of the man's mouth turn down as he dispenses with subtlety and closes the remaining distance between them in three long strides. Before Jinyoung can turn to flee, he feels the sinking dread and soaring exhilaration of a strong hand closing around his upper arm, callused fingers stroking the delicate skin on the inside of his arm. Jinyoung suppresses an involuntary shudder and composes his face before he turns around with a serene smile that betrays none of his fluster, questioning eyes and a cordial tone. "Can I help you?"
Strangely enough, what finally throws Jinyoung is not his own traitorous heartbeat but the look in the man's eyes, curiously uncertain, lost and embarrassed in stark contrast to the brute force of his grip on Jinyoung's arm. His fingers tremble on the stem of his wine glass and his mouth falls open slightly, seeming at a loss for words, and something about the combination of this expression and gesture goes straight past Jinyoung's defences and to the depths of his heart.
"I --" the man stutters, his voice hoarse, then clears his throat and regains a measure of aloofness. "I'm Im Jaebum."
He looks at Jinyoung expectantly, as if expecting Jinyoung to recognize the name, and frowns, his face falling a little when Jinyoung just blinks, the unfamiliar name ringing a faint bell somewhere in his mind but not immediately significant.
"This is my yatch," Jaebum continues a little impatiently. "My party." He seems to expect Jinyoung to be impressed, and honestly, this information is quite impressive, so Jinyoung allows a little of his awe to reflect on his face and Jaebum looks satisfied at last.
He flashes a smug grin, seemingly more at ease now that he has asserted his status as the host. Jinyoung's mind is reeling to process this new revelation. It's truthfully an unlikely coincidence that he's at this party, and he doesn't know much about the nature of it or the organizers, except that his fencing teammate and roommate Jackson's latest squeeze, Yugyeom had gotten a bunch of complimentary tickets and invited Jinyoung and Bambam along. Usually, Jinyoung wasn't much into stuffy events like this and the posh, upper-class socialites who frequented them, but Jackson had lured him into it with a promise of all-you-can-eat delicacies and promptly abandoned him as soon as they arrived. Jinyoung had been wandering around aimlessly, admiring the stately yatch and the peaceful rocking of the waves and planning to bail with a text to Jackson when he happened upon Jaebum gazing out on the ocean and sipping wine, his eyes distant.
Now, Jaebum's eyes continue boring into him, growing impatient again and Jinyoung senses that he is supposed to say something but for the life of him can't think what. His brain is dazedly empty, absently lingering on the way the sunshine brings out electric blue highlights in Jaebum's hair, like woven gossamer threads.
"Your name...?" Jaebum finally prompts, looking mildly frustrated as if he's not used to people not falling over their feet to introduce themselves to him.
"Oh! I, uh, I'm J-jinyoung," Jinyoung replies smoothly, then bites his tongue hard, groaning inwardly.
"Jinyoung," Jaebum repeats under his breath, like an incantation, like a password he's commiting to memory, and Jinyoung feels a shiver crawl from the very tips of his bones, his insides suddenly liquid. "Jinyoung," Jaebum whispers again as he looks down and frowns, and when he looks up again Jinyoung's breath catches in his throat at the scorching hunger of Jaebum's eyes, the longing warmth. "Where have you been all my life?"
At this juncture of their scintillating, bizarre and increasingly awkward conversation, Jackson materializes. Jinyoung offers up a silent Hallelujah to the skies and frees his arm discreetly from Jaebum's grasp. Jaebum's empty hand falls limply to his side and his gaze flickers blankly to it, brow creasing.
Jinyoung swears he has never been so relieved and thankful for Jackson's inopportune, obnoxious entrances and dense obliviousness to the tension palpable in the air.
"Yo, Park Jinyoung!" Jackson bellows, slinging a heavy arm around Jinyoung's shoulder, and Jinyoung winces at his glaring cheer. "Where the heck have you been? Bambam has been looking all over for you."
Jinyoung feels the heat of a gaze and is abruptly aware that Jaebum is glowering at Jackson for no apparent reason, his eyes flashing with hostility and rivalry. "Who are you?" he grits out, voice low.
"Whoa, there," Jinyoung starts, still confused about the anger emanating from Jaebum's stare. Sure, Jackson had interrupted their conversation, but it wasn't like they were having a particularly meaningful chat. Hell, they didn't even know each other five minutes ago.
But before he can continue, Jackson has finally wised up to the situation and swiftly catalogued Jaebum, dismissing him with a cocky smirk. "And who's this creepy ahjussi?" he bends to whisper in Jinyoung's ear, keeping his eyes on Jaebum, his smile widening at the way Jaebum's face flushes hotly.
Jinyoung hooks his fingers around Jackson's, curled proprietarily around his shoulder and pries them off gently but firmly. He doesn't know why Jackson gets off on antagonizing everyone he meets, especially those "filthy rich pricks", in his own words, who try to hit on him. Jinyoung doesn't know what the silent battle of wills is about this time, but he is determined not to be caught in the middle.
"This is Jackson, my friend," he introduces politely. "I just met Jaebum-sshi," he tells Jackson. "He's the host of this party."
At his words, Jackson's expression morphs instantly into grudging respect. "Oops," he mumbles sheepishly. "I didn't know. Thanks for having us. Great party."
Jackson flashes his easy grin, the one that reveals a mouthful of straight, shiny teeth and has never failed to disarm everybody he sees. Inexplicably, Jinyoung feels a stab of annoyance, the urge to hide Jackson away from Jaebum's keen eyes, his disrobing gaze. It's so unfair the way Jackson charms the pants off everyone he meets, always monopolizing all the attention.
But when Jinyoung looks up, he's stunned to see that Jaebum is not looking in Jackson's direction at all but still staring intently at him, almost greedily like he wants to drink Jinyoung's features in with his eyes. It's almost like Jackson is transparent to Jaebum, like Jaebum is looking right through him and seeing Jinyoung, really seeing him. And the way that Jaebum is looking at Jinyoung, it -- it makes him feel seen.
Blinking rapidly, Jinyoung tears his gaze away from Jaebum's scrutiny and brushes Jackson's arm for reassurance. His legs feel wobbly, his voice foreign to his own ears as he says vaguely, "We have to go."
"At fucking last," Jackson groans in relief. "If you thought Yugyeom and Bambam would get along like a house on fire, you were wrong," he says flatly.
Jinyoung takes in Jackson's wry smile, his tired eyes, and feels a pang of sympathy for his best friend. He knows that in Jackson's ideal world, all their teammates would become instant BFFs with his chic, scruffy boyfriend. Instead, Jinyoung had gotten an off vibe from him from the start, although he didn't voice it to Jackson, hoping it was just his overactive suspicion.
"Well, maybe they wouldn't be at loggerheads all the time if Yugyeom would stop prattling about his pretentious violin conservatory for a minute," he coaxes, linking arms with Jackson and leading him away, already forgetting Im Jaebum and unaware of the searing heat of his mute gaze. Yup, totally unaware.
"Don't you dare insult Yugyeomie!" Jackson protests. "He's an artist, okay?" He huffs and Jinyoung stifles a chuckle at Jackson's loyal devotion to his boyfriend.
"Wait!" Jaebum's voice rings out behind them, stopping Jinyoung in his tracks. Jackson peers at them quizzically as Jinyoung turns around with forced breeziness. "Yes?" he says pleasantly, barely able to hear his own thin voice over the pounding of his chest.
He turns, and there's that expression again -- unsure, stricken, helpless. It shakes Jinyoung to his core. Who the hell is this guy, exactly? Jinyoung feels a surge of defensiveness and unconsciously snaps, "What?"
Jaebum flinches. His stance is empty of arrogance now, his powerfully built shoulders slumped in defeat and eyes darting with mild panic from side to side but never meeting Jinyoung's. Against his better judgement, Jinyoung finds himself softening.
"What do you want?" Jackson prods none too ceremoniously, looking at his watch. "We're in a rush."
Jaebum's gaze snaps up at this, his eyes moving between Jackson and Jinyoung as if trying to figure out a puzzle that confounds him. Without warning, he sets his glass down on the floor of the deck and strides up to Jinyoung, whipping out a mahogany suede wallet. He slides a card out and presses it into Jinyoung's palm. His eyes rise to hold Jinyoung's, reaching into them urgently. "Call me," he leans forward to breathe in Jinyoung's ear almost unintelligibly before sauntering away, and Jinyoung is left trembling in the dizzying cloud of his musky cologne, wondering why the barest brush of Jaebum's lips against his earlobe sends earthquake-scale tremors through his bones; why the husky honey of Jaebum's voice feels for all the world like unspoken promises.
The card remains clutched tightly in Jinyoung's hand in a death grip all the time while they scour the mass of mingling partygoers for Yugyeom and Bambam, finally locating them by the raised voices of their slightly intoxicated bickering and ushering the two younger boys out of the banquet hall and towards the gangplank; while they hustle off board onto the quay where the yatch is moored, onto dry land; while Jackson pats Yugyeom's pockets for the keys to his vintage Volkswagen and packs them bawdily into it; while he gets into the passenger seat next to Jackson and watches detachedly as he revs the ignition and accelerates roughly onto the highway.
Yugyeom hiccups from the backseat and drapes his arms over Jackson's shoulder, licking his ear. Jinyoung shudders and looks away as Jackson swerves to the road shoulder and yells at Yugyeom to sit his ass down or Jackson will make it too painful to sit on.
"Remind me never to date a teenager again," Jackson mutters to Jinyoung, shaking his head wearily and getting back into the driver's seat after he has strapped Yugyeom down with his seat belt. Jinyoung barks a laugh.
"I'm notta 'eenager!" Yugyeom slurs, outraged. "I'm twenty-one," he proclaims importantly.
"Oh, really?" Jackson shoots back, smirking. "Funny because you act like you're twelve."
After Jackson has dumped Bambam at his house, Jinyoung feels sharp, hard edges cutting into his palm and looks down, surprised to find Jaebum's name card still doggedly lodged in his hand. He unravels his fingers and squints down at it in the dim encroaching nightfall. The card is damp with a sheen of cold sweat, seeming to shimmer in the moonlight with mysterious possibility. Jinyoung hungrily devours the few words embossed in an official-looking font on the card. It simply reads Im Jaebum, CEO, Im Enterprises. When he repeats it aloud to Jackson, he slams his foot down on the brakes, gravel crunching beneath the tires as his eyes widen dramatically.
"Holy shit," he breathes, snatching the card from Jinyoung. "CEO?"
In the backseat, Yugyeom grunts and continues snoring.
"I can not believe this," Jackson declares empathically. "Im Enterprises? The Im Enterprises?"
Jinyoung kind of gets where he's coming from. He might not have recognized Jaebum, but one would have to be living under a rock not to have heard of Im Enterprises, the fastest expanding multinational technological conglomerate in South and Northeast Asia in the last decade. He can hardly reconcile the title CEO with the imposing but nonetheless young man he met on the yatch a few hours ago. It's all starting to seem a little surreal.
"Jinyoung-ah," Jackson says softly, a glint Jinyoung decidedly does not like in his eyes. "How do you know this guy?"
"I-I don't know him," Jinyoung says quickly, grabbing the card back and shoving it in his pocket. "We barely talked for like, five minutes."
"Bullshit," Jackson snorts, eyes amused. "I'm sure Im Jaebum-sshi doesn't just go around giving out his name cards to random people."
"Believe what you like," Jinyoung deadpans, facing forward again. "Are we going to sit here all night, or are you going to drive home?"
The third evening after the party, Jinyoung is rudely interrupted in the groove he's wearing into their apartment carpet with his relentless pacing by Jackson throwing his phone at him.
"Call him, dumbass," Jackson intones, even before Jinyoung can protest his innocence. Jinyoung opens his mouth guiltily, but Jackson silences him with an imperious look, the look that says I'm your best friend so don't even try that crap on me.
Jinyoung groans. "I threw away the card," he lies.
Jackson hoots with laughter. "I think you meant you built a shrine for it."
When Jinyoung ignores him, he leaps off the couch and charges towards Jinyoung's room. "Alrighty then, I guess you don't mind me helping you to search."
"OI!" Jinyoung roars, tearing after Jackson. Sometimes he's pretty certain he's saddled with the worst roommate in the world.
The wrestling match that ensues ends, predictably, with a score of one-love, Jackson crowing in truimph as he emerges as the winner. He holds Jaebum's card aloft from where he had dug it out from under Jinyoung's pillow and gleefully scampers out of the room, already dialing the digits into Jinyoung's phone.
Jinyoung stumbles frantically after him, on the verge of tears. "NOOOO!" he releases an anguished cry as Jackson punches in the numbers and stabs the call button, then turns on the speakerphone.
Jinyoung's heart nearly jumps out of his throat as the phone starts ringing, every trill feeling like a jolt to his solar plexus. He buries his face in his hands with resigned dread, hoping against hope that maybe, thankfully, Jaebum won't answer, when --
"Hello?"
Jinyoung stifles a silent scream with his fist as he raises panicked eyes to Jackson, pleading for help. Jackson finally takes pity on him and opens his mouth to answer, but then Jaebum's face flashes into Jinyoung's mind, terse and drawn, his lips tight as his jaw clenched in animosity at Jackson. With remarkable reflexes that make Jackson's jaw drop in admiration, Jinyoung dives forward and seizes the phone, switching off the speaker and pressing it to his ear. It feels warm, alive, slippery in his clammy hands. "Hello?" Jaebum repeats, sounding pissed off now.
"H-hi?" Jinyoung stammers. It comes out uncertainly, like a question and he swallows hard.
There is a brief pause, then a sharp intake of breath over the line. Then a long, charged silence before Jaebum says quietly, "Jinyoung?"
His voice is completely changed, all traces of annoyance gone to soften into the silky dulcet that Jinyoung remembers. Jinyoung's eyes almost flutter closed to the intangible caress in that single word before he remembers that Jackson is staring at him.
He clears his throat and manages to choke out casually, "Yup. W-what's up?" tagging on a strangled giggle for good measure.
There is a soft exhalation on the other end of the line, and Jinyoung has the unaccountable feeling that Jaebum is smiling, not the tentative, cautious smile from the party, but a foolish, full-blown one. He surprises himself with how much he wants to see it.
"Jinyoung," Jaebum says again, now an affirmation instead of a query, and Jinyoung is no longer in any doubt that he's smiling. "Thank you --" Jaebum's voice breaks, thickening with an unreadable emotion as he continues softly, "Thank you for calling."
"You can stop grinning creepily now," Jackson says when Jinyoung hangs up after ten minutes of conversation that felt like ten lifetimes because of how much had changed in their span. And it feels like everything has. Can this be the same world he lived in ten minutes ago, before he had spoken to Jaebum, pretended to let himself reluctantly get talked into a date the next day at a restaurant in one of the hotels owned by Jaebum's company? Jinyoung decides that it can't, that this might be an extremely vivid and heavenly dream he is going to wake up from any moment now. No wonder he feels like he's walking on clouds.
Jackson echoes his earlier remark cackling, and Jinyoung throws the phone at him.
"I thought you wouldn't call," Jaebum says the next day, his eyes somehow more intense than possible over the vast distance of the carved ornate table across which they are sitting, in a private dining room in the restaurant of the posh, fancy five-star hotel. That morning, a uniformed chauffer driving a Mercedes had shown up outside Jinyoung's house, bowing respectfully as he opened the door for him. He had not spoken a word all the way as Jinyoung fidgeted in the backseat, increasingly nervous. When they had arrived outside the hotel lobby, two doormen rushed to open the door for him and Jinyoung scrambled out ungracefully, unsettled by such servitude and thanking them profusely. The chauffer gestured discreetly to Jinyoung to follow him and he did, acutely aware of the unabashed opulence of the guests mingling at the reception, eyes widening like a bumpkin as he spotted a few famous faces, celebrities and ministers.
When he saw Jaebum lounging on one of the maroon couches dotting the lobby, Jinyoung had stopped in his tracks. Jaebum was distractedly flicking a burnished lighter open and closed, open and closed. Today, he was again dressed from head to toe in designer labels, looking more casual than before in a sleek navy blazer thrown over a simple white shirt with his inky black hair artfully tousled but still dripping understated class. Jinyoung wondered if he had a personal stylist and decided that he must have. It was humanly impossible for a businessman to have such impeccable taste.
Jinyoung thought he detected a slight tremor in Jaebum's fingers as he tipped a slender cigarette out of an embossed case and lit it deftly. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and drew on it deeply. Time seemed to slow down as Jinyoung took in the carelessness of Jaebum's tapered fingers tapping embers into an ashtray. Those fingers looked nimble, dexterous in a way that unexplainably made Jinyoung's face grow warm.
Then Jaebum looked up, seeming to sense his gaze, and jumped when he saw Jinyoung standing there. He leaped to his feet, dropping the cigarette, which landed on his wrist. Jinyoung gasped as he saw Jaebum grimace with surprise and pain and quickly dashed forward, grabbing his hand and cradling it in his own. "Is your hand okay?" he breathed, but Jaebum snatched it away as though stung, eyes widening at Jinyoung's proximity as he frantically backed away. "Y-yeah," he mumbled, stubbing out the cigarette which had fallen on the ground with the heel of his shoe. Jinyoung hastily edged away too, humiliated by Jaebum's rejection, but he could see a faint blush creeping up Jaebum's ears. "Are you hurt?" Jinyoung blurted out, wanting to approach and get a closer look at Jaebum's injury but not daring to.
"No," Jaebum said shortly, and Jinyoung thought he heard him mutter under his breath, "Only my pride."
The heels of Jaebum's polished leather shoes clicked across the sparkling linoleum of the lobby as he strode briskly towards the restaurant, his hand a light pressure on the small of Jinyoung's back. As they made their way, a few passing foreign dignitaries nodded in recognition to Jaebum, offering gracious smiles, and Jinyoung hurriedly bowed back starstruck, but Jaebum barely spared them a glance, his eyes never leaving Jinyoung. It felt overwhelming to be the center of Jaebum's undivided attention, and Jinyoung avoided his piercing gaze as he matched his pace to Jaebum's, feeling shabby and humbled in the face of Jaebum's effortless sophistication.
The private dining room turns out to be an unnecessary gesture, as Jaebum has already reserved all the tables in the restaurant. It's needlessly extravagant, almost flamboyantly excessive, but Jinyoung is already learning that this is a trademark of Jaebum's moves. When he does something, he either does it in a big way, or doesn't do it at all. Jinyoung isn't certain what this overreaching nature of going all out bodes for them, but he feels a faint current of unease in the pit of his stomach.
"Oh, well," Jinyoung shrugs offhandedly now, in response to Jaebum's statement. "You told me to," he says lamely.
Jaebum's eyes gleam inscrutably. "I did," he concurs. "But I never imagined --" he stops and shakes his head in disbelief, then smiles softly. "I was waiting."
Although Jinyoung skeptically finds it difficult to picture a busy, successful person like Jaebum sitting by the phone like him, hoping and wishing for Jinyoung's call, it's undeniably flattering and touching that Jaebum's words had not been just a throwaway gesture. But Jinyoung is careful not to flatter himself too much, to let the heady rush of Jaebum's attention get to his head. He is aware that Jaebum's only aim is to get into his pants, that he is the kind of person who loses interest in the chase after the conquest, that Jinyoung is only intriguing to him because he's a challenge. But despite knowing better, Jinyoung still finds himself caught in the thrall of Jaebum's crooked smile, the promise in his dark eyes. So he merely lets his lips curl into a restrained, noncommital smile, and pretends not to see the way Jaebum's face falls.
They peruse the menus in rather stilted silence, and after a few minutes Jaebum clicks his fingers, bringing the hostess hurrying in at once and decisively orders in low, fluent English. The maitre'd bows reverentially and moves on to Jinyoung, who orders in halting English. "We'll have a 1996 Bordeaux too," Jaebum adds as an afterthought as she glides out of the room, closing the door.
When she is gone, Jaebum eyes Jinyoung speculatively. "Your English isn't bad," he says, looking impressed as he twists a signet ring on his index finger idly, and Jinyoung is again drawn to the hypnotic breadth of his knuckles, the leashed strength of his hands.
"Jackson taught me a bit. He's from Hong Kong." Jinyoung ducks his head modestly, and when Jaebum doesn't reply Jinyoung looks up to see his forehead creased in displeasure.
"You guys seem close," Jaebum finally observes cryptically.
"We're best friends," Jinyoung replies easily, not expecting the impact his thoughtless words have on Jaebum, who leans forward, eyes burning into his. "Is that all?" he says, voice distinctly more chilly.
Jinyoung swallows, discomfited. "O-of course!" he blurts out too quickly, feeling his own anger bubble up as well. Who is Jaebum to interrogate him like this? "We live together too," he adds casually, defiantly, enjoying the way Jaebum's jaw tightens. But his stomach clenches coldly as those refined fingers he had been observing curl into fists on the table, Jaebum's knuckles paling. He might've taken it a little too far.
"You live together," Jaebum repeats flatly.
Jinyoung nods hesitantly, wishing he could take back his words. How had the conversation taken such a turn?
"Why?" Jaebum says quietly, barely audible, but at that moment Jinyoung is thankfully rescued by the reentrance of the maitre'd bearing a bottle of richly scarlet wine which she pours with a flourish into crystal glasses. Jinyoung takes a long gulp of his and it slides down his throat too fast, cold and smooth, crisply sweet with delightful champagne grape notes. If nothing else, Jinyoung has to admit that Jaebum is a connoisseur of wines.
Jaebum takes an equally lengthy pull on his drink, turning to the side and Jinyoung catches a glimpse of the strikingly chiseled lines of his profile, the aquiline nose and prominent Adam's apple bobbing in the smooth curve of his neck as he swallows. Jaebum turns, catching him staring and his eyes flare with surprise. Jinyoung hurriedly drops his gaze. He doesn't know how to answer the question Jaebum just broached and hopes that Jaebum has forgotten about it.
They finish the rest of the meal in companionable if slightly loaded silence, and Jinyoung savours the explosion of flavours in his mouth, sumptuous Western-Korean fusion cuisine with names he can't even wrap his tongue around. After a sinfully sweet dessert of rum and raisin ice cream and Kahlua truffles, he feels blissfully bloated and just the tiniest bit inebriated. What was the alcohol content of those truffles anyway? Jinyoung should've mentioned that he was kind of a lightweight when it came to holding his liquor.
Jinyoung dabs clumsily at his lips and scrunches up his napkin, rising unsteadily to his feet. He wobbles slightly, grabbing the chair for balance and in an instant Jaebum is by his side, looking solicitous. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine!" Jinyoung exclaims too loudly, shaking off Jaebum's hands. He repeats it again, a little softer.
Jaebum turns away from him, and it takes a minute for Jinyoung to realize that he's trying to hide his laughter.
"Im Jaebum!" Jinyoung sputters, outraged. "Are you laughing at me right now?"
Jinyoung turns to face him, rearranging his face solemnly, but his eyes are bright with mischief, his face flushed with supressed laughter. For a heartbeat, this unexpected boyishness takes Jinyoung's breath away.
So. There it is. Jaebum is actually really, really cute when he smiles. How could he not have known? Jinyoung curses softly.
"What did you say?" Jaebum says, looking startled.
"I said you're fucking adorable!" Jinyoung says loudly, the words ringing into the silence and hanging there between them for a heart-lurching beat, two.
Then Jaebum's face is just an inch from his, his eyes millimetres away, and up close Jinyoung feels like he could fall into their inexorable depths like quicksand and never find his way out. And Jaebum's lips are on his, soft and warm, moistened by the red wine, sweeter than sugar. Jinyoung's mouth is slack against his at first, taken by surprise, but his lips part inadvertently as Jaebum runs an insistent tongue along the seam, sliding confidently into his mouth and brushing his tongue daringly. Jaebum's strong arms come up reassuringly behind his back to catch him as Jinyoung's knees give, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he surrenders to the relentless probing of Jaebum's tongue and the delicious pressure of his mouth clamped over Jinyoung's, breathing him in, breathing for him.
It occurs to Jinyoung somewhere in the back of his mind that maybe this was what Jaebum had intended, to get him woozy and drugged, pliant and unresisting. Maybe Jaebum is more unscrupulous than Jinyoung had given him credit for. But Jinyoung can't exactly claim to be an unwilling victim, either as Jaebum backs Jinyoung against the wall and presses his hard body into the length of Jinyoung's, his erection throbbing unmistakably against Jinyoung's crotch. Things are suddenly moving too fast, too dangerously.
But contrary to Jinyoung's worst suspicions, Jaebum does not take advantage of his helpless state and haul him uncomplaining to a hotel room. Jinyoung can't help feeling a little disappointed, anticlimactic. In all honesty, the idea of Jaebum pressing him into the immense, downy bed of a magnificent suite and making achingly slow love to him hadn't been completely unattractive.
Nevertheless, it is with a great effort of willpower that Jaebum manages to stop himself from devouring Jinyoung completely, and he makes this clear to Jinyoung by the breath coming in jerky, laboured pants in Jinyoung's ear, the immovable iron of his hands spanning Jinyoung's ass, imprinting their shape into his skin as he pins Jinyoung firmly to the wall with his hips and grinds sloppily against Jinyoung's own hard, bursting cock, sinking his teeth into the skin of Jinyoung's shoulder to muffle his groans. Jinyoung ruts against him, rocking his hips in a rhythm that is all senseless, carnal want and no logic or self-preservation. He comes first in his underwear, a viscous rush of wetness and Jaebum's thrusts grow more urgent until he finally convulses and grows limp against Jinyoung's body, his weight leaning heavily on Jinyoung. Jinyoung holds him steady and runs a soothing hand over Jaebum's matted hair. His forehead is damp with sweat, his eyes closed and breaths still coming in harsh, shallow spurts, warm on Jinyoung's shoulder. Unbidden, Jinyoung feels a fierce rush of protectiveness for this unpredictable, enigmatic man, who has only expressed himself in awkward clumsiness so far but whose eyes seem to promise great reserves of warmth.
As Jinyoung brushes Jaebum's hair back with tentative fingers, Jaebum's arms come up behind him and settle on his back, fitting into the contours of his torso like they were designed to align right there. Jinyoung can't stifle a sigh of contentment as he nestles closer into Jaebum's body, inhaling his scent so deeply that it makes his head spin.
"Jinyoung-ah," Jaebum murmurs beside his ear, pulling back a little to gaze into Jinyoung's eyes, and the intimacy, the familiarity of the three syllables makes the backs of Jinyoung's eyes prickle inexplicably. Jaebum is looking down at him with such wonder, such tenderness, that Jinyoung can barely stand the proximity. Nervously, he stiffens and tries to squirm out of Jaebum's embrace, but then Jaebum stills him effortlessly with the simple gesture of the briefest kiss pressed to the crown of Jinyoung's head.
After they have straightened out each other's clothes, Jinyoung's hands lingering fondly on Jaebum's lapels, Jaebum laces their fingers together, interlocking them. Jinyoung swivels to look at him in alarm and Jaebum is glancing apprehensively at him, as if wordlessly asking if it's okay. Jinyoung blushes and bites back a smile, but doesn't pull his hand away.
Jaebum's hand is warm, callused but smooth, encompassing Jinyoung's reassuringly as he leads Jinyoung purposefully out of the restaurant and across the hotel lobby, never letting go or loosening his grip even once. He only releases it when they walk through the revolving doors onto the foyer of the hotel and a ostentatious Ferrari convertible, fire-engine red, glides to a halt before them. A valet climbs out from the driver's seat and deferentially offers Jaebum the keys. Jaebum smiles and slips a generous tip into his hand.
Jinyoung is unable to conceal his admiration, a low whistle escaping his teeth as he runs awed fingers over the spotless chrome exterior reflecting sunbeams. When he turns, Jaebum is peeking at him through his eyelashes, looking like a kid anxious for approval. When Jinyoung pronounces, "Sweet ride," his entire face lights up. "Wait till you see how this baby moves," he brags, opening the passenger door with an exaggerated flourish.
Jinyoung climbs in, bemused. "You call your car baby?"
Jaebum crosses over to the driver's side and slides in with practiced grace. "She's my girl," he winks lasciviously at Jinyoung.
Jinyoung's chest clenches without warning. "Do you... do you have a girlfriend?" he spits out as Jaebum revs up the engine and settles his hands on the stick shift and wheel, forehead furrowed in concentration.
Immediately, Jaebum stops everything to look up, meeting Jinyoung's eyes straight on. His eyes are serious, reproachful with a hint of teasing. "If I did," he says, lifting Jinyoung's chin with a gentle finger, "do you think I'd be here with you?"
Somewhere along the journey, Jaebum's hand creeps from the gearshift to rest proprietarily on Jinyoung's knee, his thumb stroking idly over Jinyoung's inner thigh. Jinyoung plays it cool and pretends not to notice, pretends he's not a quivering mess of jelly inside and Jaebum acts equally unconcerned, removing his hand after what feels like a tiny lifetime without any acknowledgement of his action.
"We're here," he says simply, smiling slightly as he uncoils his long body from the car and hurries attentively to Jinyoung's side. Jinyoung steps out of the car a little unsteadily, Jaebum's hand on his elbow anchoring him, the warmth emanating from his sturdy frame behind Jinyoung's back giving him a surge of security. Jinyoung cranes his neck to take in the villa sprawled before him, so big it could easily fit three of his apartments inside.
"You live here? Alone?" he murmurs in disbelief, and Jaebum smiles self-deprecatingly. "This is my summer house. I usually stay in an apartment near the office the rest of the time."
His summer house. Jinyoung swallows as he digests the words. Why has Jaebum brought him here, other than to carry out an elaborate plan of seduction that would end in Jinyoung capitulating and giving up his chastity? He feels the burden of pressure, of not being able to live up to Jaebum's expectations. Maybe he had overestimated himself when he thought he could match Jaebum at his game.
Jaebum seems to sense his reservations, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he says softly, smiling irresistibly at Jinyoung, "let's just chill and have fun, okay? No pressure."
It appears that those are the words Jinyoung has been subconsciously waiting to hear, because he instantly relaxes, the tension seeping out of his body. The cozy timbre of Jaebum's voice makes him feel like he's in good hands, like Jaebum will never do anything to hurt him. So Jinyoung takes a deep breath and beams back at Jaebum, slipping his hand trustingly into Jaebum's and following him over the threshold.
True to Jaebum's word, his house is the perfect place to have fun in summer, and even though fall is just beginning, they manage to make the most of the facilities. Since the weather is too chilly for swimming trunks, they change into more comfortable beachwear before heading to the pool at the back of the house to sunbathe. The water is an undisturbed, chlorine blue with not a single ripple, so clear Jinyoung can see right to the sun's heptagonal shadows dancing over the bottom.
He laughs till his stomach hurts as he watches Jaebum cannonball into the pool from the diving board, catapulting into the aqua with a majestic splash and drenching Jinyoung who is sitting by the poolside and dipping his feet in the water in Jaebum's Bermudas, which hang low on his hips and billow over his knees. Jaebum's eyes run over his wet body with frank admiration, and Jinyoung splashes water at his roguish, taunting grin and shivers.
"You cold?" Jaebum calls, treading water.
When Jinyoung's teeth chatter in reply, he swims over with swift strokes and sinks into the water, blowing bubbles through his nose. A hand closes around Jinyoung's ankle and before he can yell Jaebum has dragged him into the water with a resounding splash, breaking the surface laughing and sputtering, shaking drops off his hair like a dog.
Jinyoung pretends to make a big fuss, pouting and glaring at Jaebum, but secretly sneaks glances at the carefree grin that splits Jaebum's face, his deep laugh reverberating in Jinyoung's ears and sending thrills down his spine.
Jinyoung floats on his back, letting himself grow weightless and gazing up towards the vast, endless expanse of crystal blue sky. At this very moment, lying in Jaebum's pool with Jaebum floating languidly beside him, counting the droplets of water starring Jaebum's eyelashes, Jinyoung feels perfectly, heartbreakingly happy. If only they could remain together forever, in this tiny fraction of eternity.
Sometime later, the midday sun beating down and caressing Jinyoung's face, the water lapping at his ears lulls him into a shallow doze. He wakes up to find himself no longer in the pool but lying on one of the deck chairs by the edge, under an umbrella. He sits up and looks around him, bewildered.
Jaebum emerges from the house carrying a bubbly orange drink with a cute little umbrella inside too, lips curling into a smile when he sees Jinyoung awake. "It's dangerous to fall asleep in the pool," he chides teasingly. "Luckily a knight in shining armour rescued you."
Jinyoung blinks. "You carried me here?" he says hoarsely, and his embarrassment seems to be contagious because Jaebum lowers his gaze with an honestly adorable, bashful smile. Jinyoung is suddenly, painfully aware that Jaebum is topless except for a towel slung precariously low on his hips, exposing the defined lines of his abdomen and hipbones, the trail of dark hair leading from his taut, ripped stomach down to his pelvis... Jinyoung takes a huge gulp of his drink and promptly chokes.
"Are you okay?" Jaebum demands in alarm, patting Jinyoung's bare back. Even after Jinyoung stops coughing, his hand stays on Jinyoung's shoulderblade, feverishly hot against his cool skin.
"Yeah," Jaebum mumbles, and Jinyoung squints up at him. "I mean yes, I carried you here," Jaebum clarifies. He abruptly removes his hand from Jinyoung's back, turning to leave. Jinyoung watches the shift of muscles beneath the tanned skin of his back longingly, his hand reaching out involuntarily to fondle it.
Jaebum swivels around sharply with a loud intake of breath. "What are you doing?" he says, voice hard, and Jinyoung recoils quickly. "I-- I-- sorry," he says lamely, chastised by Jaebum's second rejection.
"Jinyoungie," Jaebum breathes, his eyes softening but remaining wary. "I don't want to do anything you don't want. But why are you tormenting me?" His voice is anguished, and when he turns back again Jinyoung's breath catches in his throat at the raging erection visible through Jaebum's towel, the way his pupils are dilated, his narrow eyes blown almost pitch black.
Jaebum grabs Jinyoung's hand roughly and presses it against his crotch, hard. He sighs at the friction of Jinyoung's hand chafing against the thin fabric, eyelashes fluttering closed and Jinyoung can feel the pulsing heat of his cock as if it's flush against his hand. His own cock twitches hungrily in his pants.
When he pulls away, Jaebum's eyes fly open, looking distressed and remorseful. "Sorry," he mutters, voice rough as sandpaper. "I can take care of this myself if you don't..." His voice trails away hopefully, and Jinyoung can hear his breathing still coming in uneven, irregular spurts.
A moan escapes Jaebum's mouth, part surprise, part desire as Jinyoung reaches out to press the heel of his palm against his cock, sinking to his knees in front of Jaebum and undoing the knotted towel with deft fingers. Tentatively, he laps at the tip of Jaebum's erect cock with his tongue, earning a tortured groan and Jaebum's hand closing over the back of his head, his fingers twisting in Jinyoung's hair. "M-more," Jaebum pants.
Jinyoung smiles and slowly, carefully takes Jaebum's cock into his mouth, inch by inch. When the head hits the back of Jinyoung's throat, he resists the urge to gag and swallows instead, wrapping his fingers around the base of Jaebum's cock to hold himself steady. By now, Jaebum is uttering unintelligible oaths under his breath, thrusting uncontrollably into the warmth of Jinyoung's mouth. Jinyoung flattens his tongue against the shaft of Jaebum's cock and sucks him to shuddering orgasm.
The tension rolls off Jaebum's body in waves as he sways bonelessly on his feet, bracing his hands on Jinyoung's shoulders to regain his balance. Jinyoung waits until Jaebum's breathing finally slows and grows measured, before relinquishing his support on Jaebum's body. He stands up, grinning impishly at Jaebum and licking his lips, and the smile that takes over Jaebum's face transforms it heart-stoppingly. Without a word, he lifts Jinyoung easily off his feet and sweeps him into his arms, carrying him into the house and up the staircase to the bathroom.
Jinyoung messes with the faucet, filling the massive claw-footed ceramic tub with hot water as Jaebum opens the cupboards, hunting for the bath salts. "Found it!" he announces truimphantly, opening the bottle and sprinkling the contents liberally in the almost full tub. "That's enough!" Jinyoung grabs his hand doubtfully, but Jaebum only laughs with unfettered glee, seizing another bottle and upending it.
"Yah!" Jinyoung yells with his hands on his hips, struggling between exasperation and laughter. "I'm not getting in there," he threatens, and Jaebum cowers and obediently stops adding salts. Instead, he produces a box of pastel-coloured flower petals which he scatters over the water, tinging the steam rising from the now-full tub with a lovely fragrance.
Jinyoung takes an appreciative whiff. "What's that?"
Jaebum smiles, advancing towards him. "Jasmine," he says, brushing a slow seductive finger across Jinyoung's cheek. Jinyoung doesn't struggle as Jaebum gathers him into his arms again and lowers him into the tub, water sloshing over the sides. He giggles. "Aren't you coming in?"
"Nah, I'll just watch you and jerk off over there," Jaebum points to the toilet bowl and says straight-faced.
"Are you serious?" Jinyoung stifles a howl of laughter.
Jaebum breaks into a broad, merciless grin. "Yeah, right," he gurgles with laughter, jumping into the tub like a ten-year-old and splashing water everywhere.
"Oh my god," Jinyoung splutters, rubbing water out of his eyes. "You're insufferable."
Jaebum only cackles evilly and wrestles Jinyoung below him.
Much later, they sit in the now half-empty tub, Jinyoung sitting between Jaebum's legs and reclining against his chest. Spooning. Jinyoung has never had the chance to be someone's little spoon, and it's an enormously warm feeling, a glow spreading from his chest throughout his body as Jaebum rubs concentric circles into Jinyoung's back with his palm. Their hands and toes are wrinkled and pruny from a day in the water, but both of them are too lazy to get out. They've had three rounds of exhausting, mind-blowing non-penetrative sex in various positions today, but all of that fades into the shadow of Jaebum's voice dripping with honey as he croons wordless endearments into Jinyoung's ear, the way Jinyoung has this unaccountable feeling that he's known Jaebum for far longer than two days, maybe two lifetimes. There is no rhyme or reason he should feel so at home in Jaebum's arms, when he knows close to nothing about him. But Jinyoung does.
It's been an unforgettable day, one of the most euphoric days of Jinyoung's life. He knows that Jaebum had brought him to his house on a carefully calculated quest to woo him, impress him with material comforts and dazzling luxuries. And Jinyoung had played right into his ruse, bought it hook line and sinker. But it doesn't bother him as much as it should, and Jinyoung knows he should probably be wondering why.
"Jaebum-sshi," he murmurs, and Jaebum opens an eye to look at him. "Mmm?"
Why me? Jinyoung wants to ask. Jaebum is obscenely rich, lacking for nothing, stunningly handsome and eligible. He could have anyone he wanted. What had he seen in ordinary, nondescript Jinyoung?
But before he can find a way to put these convoluted, confusing questions into words, Jaebum interrupts, "Call me hyung."
"What?" Jinyoung says, startled.
Jaebum traces a slow finger down Jinyoung's chest, scraping the sensitive nub of his nipple with a fingernail and drawing a whimper. "What's with the Jaebum-sshi?" His shoulders shake with mirth. "Call me hyung."
Jinyoung stammers, flustered. "H-hyung," he mumbles reluctantly.
"I can't hear you," Jaebum says patiently, grazing his teeth over Jinyoung's clavicles.
"Hyung!" Jinyoung whines. "Jaebum-hyung," and feels the curve of Jaebum's smile pressed into his neck.
Jinyoung spends that night in Jaebum's bed, Jaebum's soft snores lulling him into slumber, his head pillowed on Jaebum's bicep. The next morning, Jaebum drops him off on his way to work. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses today and he doesn't face Jinyoung, gazing blankly out of the window over the whitecaps of the sea beyond the freeway. He has opened the top of the convertible and the wind ruffles his hair hopelessly, making him look so wildly beautiful that Jinyoung feels a pang in his chest. Maybe Jaebum just isn't a morning person, which would explain his gruff silence and frosty aloofness since Jinyoung woke up alone in bed. Jinyoung doesn't want to think of any other reason.
He creeps into the house, tiptoeing to his room with his shoes in his hands but Jackson scares the shit out of him by flinging open his door as he passes and shrieking, "Gotcha!"
Jinyoung resists the urge to clobber him with the shoes and calms his racing heart. "What the --"
"Did you get laid?" Jackson crows so loudly the whole neighbourhood can hear, and Jinyoung hastily shushes him. Jaebum is barely down the street.
On the first day after that, Jinyoung carries his phone around with him the entire day, even when he's peeing and showering, beaming beatifically at it with excited trepidation. It doesn't ring and he frowns that night as he checks the battery and wonders if there's some glitch.
On the second day, he alternates between glaring at his phone and checking it obssessively for messages or missed calls.
On the third day, Jinyoung spends all his waking moments resisting the urge to call or text Jaebum with all his might. It literally takes everything short of Jackson tying him up to stop him from sending an accusing, needy text. Luckily, Jackson saves him from eternal humiliation by confiscating his phone.
By the fourth day, Jinyoung has given up hope. He is furious -- at Jaebum for toying with his feelings, at himself for waiting like a moron for a call that wasn't coming. It was obvious that Jaebum had long forgotten him, that the only one that day had meant anything to was him.
On the fifth day, Jinyoung takes the day off from fencing practice, too heartbroken to rouse himself from bed. Jackson supportively plays hooky with him and spends the day spooning melted ice cream into Jinyoung's mouth and passing him tissues as they marathon tearjerking Korean soap operas.
Jinyoung moves on with his life. He forgets Jaebum, or at least, tries to. Very hard. Unsuccessfully. It's ludicrous because he had only spent a day with Jaebum, but it had magnified in such proportions in Jinyoung's memory, burned behind his retinas, the images playing in a ceaseless loop on the back of his eyelids. He tells himself that Jaebum is merely a lowlife jerk who just happens to be slightly more aesthetically pleasing than most people. He's not worth Jinyoung's tears. But his heart seems to have a mind of its own.
Three weeks after that fateful first and last date, Jinyoung is stuffing his sweaty clothes into his duffel after practice when an unfamiliar number flashes across his phone display. His heart leaps into his throat as he reads and rereads the number. It can't be -- can it?
Before Jinyoung can snap out of his daze and hit the answer button with a shaking finger, the phone stops ringing. It vibrates twice and lights up with a pop-up notification of one missed call and Jinyoung stares saucer-eyed at the now ominously silent phone lying on the table as if it's catatonic. He sits there, frozen, for what might have been minutes or a lifetime until Jackson bangs open the door of the changing room and plops down beside him on the bench.
"Who died?" he jokes, seeing Jinyoung's ashen face, and Jinyoung swats him halfheartedly and buries his phone in his bag.
Deep in thought, he doesn't see the flashy car parked on the sidewalk outside their apartment until Jackson grinds his motorcycle to a halt and peels off his helmet, eyes popping. Jinyoung follows the direction of his gaze with a sinking feeling, not daring to believe his eyes until Jaebum is loping over and standing in front of them in the flesh, his narrowed eyes taking in Jinyoung sitting pillion astride the motorcycle, knees locked around Jackson's waist.
"Why didn't you answer my calls?" he demands without preamble. Jinyoung swallows. He had called more than once?
"I... I was busy," he hedges, evading Jaebum's eyes and clambering awkwardly off the motorcycle. Jackson turns off the engine and disembarks too, but Jaebum pointedly ignores him as he grabs Jinyoung's elbow none too gently and says low, "Come with me."
"Hey, hey," Jackson says, moving forward to assert himself between them. "He said he doesn't want to."
Jaebum's eyes flash menacingly as he finally acknowledges Jackson's presence. His hand tightens over Jinyoung's elbow as he takes a step forward too, his chest almost bumping Jackson's. "Did you?" he addresses Jinyoung, eyes piercing like lasers into his own, daring him to utter the affirmative.
Jackson's face darkens with challenge and his hands come up to grab Jaebum's lapels, and Jinyoung hurriedly bursts out, "I'll come!"
This gets their attention. "What?" Jackson turns to blink at him, dumbfounded.
"I'll come, okay?" Jinyoung growls. "Don't get your panties in a twist. Jackson-ah, go home first," he commands firmly, and Jackson opens his mouth to argue but Jinyoung pushes him towards the door. "Go," he says more lightly. "I'll just be a few minutes."
Jaebum looks disappointed by the words but doesn't say anything, and Jackson reluctantly backs away. "If you're not back in a few minutes, I'll come get you," he threatens before finally disappearing into the lobby of their apartment.
Jaebum still hasn't let go of his arm. "Get into the car," he says in that authoritative tone he's been taking since the start. It really is incredibly irksome and Jinyoung rolls his eyes rebelliously, regretting the day he ever got involved with such a high-maintenance control freak.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Jaebum says incredulously, scowling at him, and Jinyoung doesn't dignify that with an answer, instead pulling open the passenger seat door and slumping inside with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes staring unsmilingly at the road.
Jaebum gets into the driver's seat, slamming the door too. Before he places his hand on the gear, he looks over at Jinyoung, eyes softening in concern. Before Jinyoung knows what's happening, Jaebum is leaning over him to pull his seatbelt on, clicking it into place. Jinyoung's breathing hitches at the sudden proximity of Jaebum's cheek, so close Jinyoung is sure Jaebum can feel his breath warm on his skin. Up close, Jaebum's skin is enviably unblemished, practically poreless, wisps of hair falling over his ears and curling at the nape of his neck. It really is the most indescribable shade of pitch black, even more so than the midnight sky. Jinyoung notices that he's sporting a single piercing on his earlobe, a dull silver spike.
When Jaebum turns, their lips are mere centimetres apart, not touching but just barely, a single breath away. It would be too easy to lean forward accidentally on purpose and seal their mouths over their already intermingling breaths. Jinyoung remembers with a pang of startling longing how Jaebum tastes, like expensive menthol cigars and bitter sweet brandy.
But then Jaebum jerks away and clears his throat, moving his hands to fasten his own seatbelt and settle on the wheel. He doesn't meet Jinyoung's eyes but Jinyoung thinks he can see a curious reddening of the tips of his ears.
"What do you want?" he blurts brusquely to fill the opaque tension in the car.
Jaebum floors the accelerator and deftly merges the car into traffic. Jinyoung tries not to look at his ringed hands on the wheel, blood rushing to his face when he thinks of the places of his body they've been.
Jaebum looks flustered by his direct question. After a pause, he repeats, "Why didn't you answer my calls?" but this time he sounds softer, more uncertain, as if he genuinely wants to know the answer.
Jaebum flips his hair out of his eyes and tries not to waver. "Because I didn't want to," he says shortly.
Jaebum's knuckles pale imperceptibly around the steering wheel. "Why not?" he says quietly, and Jinyoung vaguely registers a note of anger.
"Because you're an asshole," he retorts, holding his ground. He's not going to back down or play useless games. There's too much at stake to. "Why didn't you call me for a month?"
He's aware of how clingy the question sounds, his voice shrill and reedy, but the words can't be taken back, and hang in the air between them like a gauntlet thrown.
There is a pregnant, neverending pause in which Jinyoung wishes a hole in the ground would open up and swallow him. Finally, mercifully, Jaebum replies. "Three weeks," he corrects softly.
Jinyoung exhales loudly in frustration. "Is there a difference?" he says frostily. "Whatever. I'm done. Drop me up ahead at the station."
"Wait!" Jaebum says sharply, stopping Jinyoung's hand on the door handle. "Hear me out," he says, voice changing, turning pleading... desperate. "Please."
"My ears are open," Jinyoung snaps to disguise the way his heart melts a little at Jaebum's unnervingly puppylike eyes. They light up warily with hope, and Jaebum takes a deep breath and mumbles contritely, "I'm sorry. I was on a business trip."
Jinyoung's mouth drops open. Of all the excuses Jaebum could have given, he hadn't expected this. It's... not unbelievable, to say the least. Jinyoung hates the tidal wave of relief coursing through his veins and doesn't allow his wavering resolve to show on his face.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he fires back unforgivingly.
Jaebum looks frustrated, yanking back the gearshift. "It was our first date, for God's sake. I didn't want to come on too strong and scare you away. I didn't know if you wanted to see me again and I... I was more affected by that day than I thought I'd be. Jinyoung-ah, try to understand me. I was upset and not thinking straight and fighting the urge to just kidnap you and lock you up in my apartment."
The words knock the breath out of Jinyoung. It's the longest sentence Jaebum has strung together since they met, and the pallor of Jaebum's face indicates that it wasn't an easy feat for him. It's way too much to process all at once and Jinyoung doesn't want to believe him but he can't help himself. There is something so appealingly honest, so imperative about Jaebum's eyes that pierces straight to Jinyoung's heart.
Jaebum inhales softly, seeming to compose himself and after a few seconds his posture relaxes, a rakish smile spreading over his face. "I'm a very important man, you know," he murmurs, as if emboldened by Jinyoung's silence. "I wish I didn't have to go, but it would've cost the company losses of multi-millions."
Jinyoung snorts. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" he lifts an eyebrow, and Jaebum deflates a bit. But then his face lights up like a child's as he apparently remembers something. "I got you a present," he says bashfully, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his closed fist eagerly. When he opens it, Jinyoung gasps to see a miniature porcelain figurine of a cow, spotted and china blue, small enough to fit into the nest of Jaebum's palm.
"It's precious," he breathes, running a finger over the cool fragile body. Jaebum laughs, deep and musical, bubbling from his lips. "It reminded me of you."
Jinyoung gapes at him. "... I remind you of a cow?" He feels hysterical laughter rising irrepressibly from his throat and struggles to contain it, failing miserably. Soon, he's wheezing for air and wiping a tear from his eyes. He hopes Jaebum can't tell how touched he is by the ridiculous gift.
But Jaebum is laughing too, giggling uncharacteristically like an adolescent boy and protesting, "I didn't mean it that way!" and suddenly all the angst of the past few weeks seems senseless and all but forgotten. They laugh until they're too exhausted to, the laughter dying away into a mildly awkward silence as they try to regulate their breathing. An easy, smug smile plays at the edges of Jaebum's lips and it kind of simultaneously makes Jinyoung want to slap him and kiss it off his face.
But what makes Jaebum truly drop his swagger and appear to lose his composure is when Jinyoung's eyes fall on his wrist and detect the fading burn scar, small and faintly red. Impulsively, he reaches out to pick up Jaebum's hand and lift it closer to study. "Does it still hurt?" he whispers, and Jaebum swerves sharply to the road shoulder, his normally skilled driving growing shaky.
He flips his hand over, catching Jinyoung's in his palm and caressing his knuckles with the rough pad of his thumb. When Jinyoung looks up, Jaebum's eyes are luminous with hope, questioning in the hazy light of the moon. In answer, Jaebum inclines his head slightly, a smile creeping into his eyes. "Kiss it better," he whispers huskily, and Jinyoung takes a tremulous breath as he raises Jaebum's hand to his mouth, keeping his eyes on Jaebum's and brushing his knuckles with his lips until Jaebum closes his eyes as if in pain, as if he can't bear to hold Jinyoung's gaze a second more.
part 2
pairing: jb/jr, mark/jackson
rating: nc-17
summary: in elegant terms, jaebum is jinyoung's sponsor. in inelegant terms, he's jinyoung's sugar daddy. (side story to lapis lazuli)
notes: for nanakirae and xfragments ♥
Up until Jinyoung's twenty-fifth year, the colour blue has never held any special significance for him. Up until the day he meets Im Jaebum for the first time, standing on the deck of a luxury yatch, framed by acres of open, cornflower blue sky, the ocean an almost transparent sheet of rippling aquamarine behind him, stretching endlessly to meet at the horizon. Im Jaebum, billionaire, successor of Im Enterprises, richer than Croesus and the owner of this sprawling, private yatch. But at that time, Jinyoung doesn't know any of this yet. All he thinks is that this tall, swarthy guy sporting an impeccably coiffed, obviously-more-expensive-than-Jinyoung's-yearly-salary dye job and an elegantly understated but undoubtedly designer three-piece suit looks like a royal douchebag.
Jinyoung pauses a distance away, moving his hand discreetly behind him to lean unsteadily against the railing and convinces himself that the reason his breathing suddenly feels too shallow is because of the blinding expanse of sheer blue and not the way the man's hair, a jet black that is impossibly darker than the stern charcoal of his suit and can't be natural gleams like the slick coat of a black seal underneath the late afternoon sun. The way his eyes are raking boldly down the length of Jinyoung's body, from his head to his toes with a blistering intensity that makes Jinyoung feel suddenly stripped of clothes, bare and exposed.
Jinyoung's mouth feels parched, his throat dry and head light as the man cocks his head slightly, lowering his champagne glass from his lips as an almost indiscernible smile spreads over them. It's a smile that is oddly frightening, pleased and predatory all at once and Jinyoung sees the unmistakable glint of interest in his eyes, his own caught entranced by the man's tongue slipping out of his mouth to wet his chapped lips. When he looks up again, the man's eyes have darkened, narrowed with an uncanny amusement that gives Jinyoung the impression that he can read every thought flitting through Jinyoung's mind like drunken butterflies colliding. He takes an imperceptible step towards Jinyoung, and Jinyoung backs away instinctively, seized by an urge to run and an even more powerful force rooting him to the ground, spellbound.
The corners of the man's mouth turn down as he dispenses with subtlety and closes the remaining distance between them in three long strides. Before Jinyoung can turn to flee, he feels the sinking dread and soaring exhilaration of a strong hand closing around his upper arm, callused fingers stroking the delicate skin on the inside of his arm. Jinyoung suppresses an involuntary shudder and composes his face before he turns around with a serene smile that betrays none of his fluster, questioning eyes and a cordial tone. "Can I help you?"
Strangely enough, what finally throws Jinyoung is not his own traitorous heartbeat but the look in the man's eyes, curiously uncertain, lost and embarrassed in stark contrast to the brute force of his grip on Jinyoung's arm. His fingers tremble on the stem of his wine glass and his mouth falls open slightly, seeming at a loss for words, and something about the combination of this expression and gesture goes straight past Jinyoung's defences and to the depths of his heart.
"I --" the man stutters, his voice hoarse, then clears his throat and regains a measure of aloofness. "I'm Im Jaebum."
He looks at Jinyoung expectantly, as if expecting Jinyoung to recognize the name, and frowns, his face falling a little when Jinyoung just blinks, the unfamiliar name ringing a faint bell somewhere in his mind but not immediately significant.
"This is my yatch," Jaebum continues a little impatiently. "My party." He seems to expect Jinyoung to be impressed, and honestly, this information is quite impressive, so Jinyoung allows a little of his awe to reflect on his face and Jaebum looks satisfied at last.
He flashes a smug grin, seemingly more at ease now that he has asserted his status as the host. Jinyoung's mind is reeling to process this new revelation. It's truthfully an unlikely coincidence that he's at this party, and he doesn't know much about the nature of it or the organizers, except that his fencing teammate and roommate Jackson's latest squeeze, Yugyeom had gotten a bunch of complimentary tickets and invited Jinyoung and Bambam along. Usually, Jinyoung wasn't much into stuffy events like this and the posh, upper-class socialites who frequented them, but Jackson had lured him into it with a promise of all-you-can-eat delicacies and promptly abandoned him as soon as they arrived. Jinyoung had been wandering around aimlessly, admiring the stately yatch and the peaceful rocking of the waves and planning to bail with a text to Jackson when he happened upon Jaebum gazing out on the ocean and sipping wine, his eyes distant.
Now, Jaebum's eyes continue boring into him, growing impatient again and Jinyoung senses that he is supposed to say something but for the life of him can't think what. His brain is dazedly empty, absently lingering on the way the sunshine brings out electric blue highlights in Jaebum's hair, like woven gossamer threads.
"Your name...?" Jaebum finally prompts, looking mildly frustrated as if he's not used to people not falling over their feet to introduce themselves to him.
"Oh! I, uh, I'm J-jinyoung," Jinyoung replies smoothly, then bites his tongue hard, groaning inwardly.
"Jinyoung," Jaebum repeats under his breath, like an incantation, like a password he's commiting to memory, and Jinyoung feels a shiver crawl from the very tips of his bones, his insides suddenly liquid. "Jinyoung," Jaebum whispers again as he looks down and frowns, and when he looks up again Jinyoung's breath catches in his throat at the scorching hunger of Jaebum's eyes, the longing warmth. "Where have you been all my life?"
At this juncture of their scintillating, bizarre and increasingly awkward conversation, Jackson materializes. Jinyoung offers up a silent Hallelujah to the skies and frees his arm discreetly from Jaebum's grasp. Jaebum's empty hand falls limply to his side and his gaze flickers blankly to it, brow creasing.
Jinyoung swears he has never been so relieved and thankful for Jackson's inopportune, obnoxious entrances and dense obliviousness to the tension palpable in the air.
"Yo, Park Jinyoung!" Jackson bellows, slinging a heavy arm around Jinyoung's shoulder, and Jinyoung winces at his glaring cheer. "Where the heck have you been? Bambam has been looking all over for you."
Jinyoung feels the heat of a gaze and is abruptly aware that Jaebum is glowering at Jackson for no apparent reason, his eyes flashing with hostility and rivalry. "Who are you?" he grits out, voice low.
"Whoa, there," Jinyoung starts, still confused about the anger emanating from Jaebum's stare. Sure, Jackson had interrupted their conversation, but it wasn't like they were having a particularly meaningful chat. Hell, they didn't even know each other five minutes ago.
But before he can continue, Jackson has finally wised up to the situation and swiftly catalogued Jaebum, dismissing him with a cocky smirk. "And who's this creepy ahjussi?" he bends to whisper in Jinyoung's ear, keeping his eyes on Jaebum, his smile widening at the way Jaebum's face flushes hotly.
Jinyoung hooks his fingers around Jackson's, curled proprietarily around his shoulder and pries them off gently but firmly. He doesn't know why Jackson gets off on antagonizing everyone he meets, especially those "filthy rich pricks", in his own words, who try to hit on him. Jinyoung doesn't know what the silent battle of wills is about this time, but he is determined not to be caught in the middle.
"This is Jackson, my friend," he introduces politely. "I just met Jaebum-sshi," he tells Jackson. "He's the host of this party."
At his words, Jackson's expression morphs instantly into grudging respect. "Oops," he mumbles sheepishly. "I didn't know. Thanks for having us. Great party."
Jackson flashes his easy grin, the one that reveals a mouthful of straight, shiny teeth and has never failed to disarm everybody he sees. Inexplicably, Jinyoung feels a stab of annoyance, the urge to hide Jackson away from Jaebum's keen eyes, his disrobing gaze. It's so unfair the way Jackson charms the pants off everyone he meets, always monopolizing all the attention.
But when Jinyoung looks up, he's stunned to see that Jaebum is not looking in Jackson's direction at all but still staring intently at him, almost greedily like he wants to drink Jinyoung's features in with his eyes. It's almost like Jackson is transparent to Jaebum, like Jaebum is looking right through him and seeing Jinyoung, really seeing him. And the way that Jaebum is looking at Jinyoung, it -- it makes him feel seen.
Blinking rapidly, Jinyoung tears his gaze away from Jaebum's scrutiny and brushes Jackson's arm for reassurance. His legs feel wobbly, his voice foreign to his own ears as he says vaguely, "We have to go."
"At fucking last," Jackson groans in relief. "If you thought Yugyeom and Bambam would get along like a house on fire, you were wrong," he says flatly.
Jinyoung takes in Jackson's wry smile, his tired eyes, and feels a pang of sympathy for his best friend. He knows that in Jackson's ideal world, all their teammates would become instant BFFs with his chic, scruffy boyfriend. Instead, Jinyoung had gotten an off vibe from him from the start, although he didn't voice it to Jackson, hoping it was just his overactive suspicion.
"Well, maybe they wouldn't be at loggerheads all the time if Yugyeom would stop prattling about his pretentious violin conservatory for a minute," he coaxes, linking arms with Jackson and leading him away, already forgetting Im Jaebum and unaware of the searing heat of his mute gaze. Yup, totally unaware.
"Don't you dare insult Yugyeomie!" Jackson protests. "He's an artist, okay?" He huffs and Jinyoung stifles a chuckle at Jackson's loyal devotion to his boyfriend.
"Wait!" Jaebum's voice rings out behind them, stopping Jinyoung in his tracks. Jackson peers at them quizzically as Jinyoung turns around with forced breeziness. "Yes?" he says pleasantly, barely able to hear his own thin voice over the pounding of his chest.
He turns, and there's that expression again -- unsure, stricken, helpless. It shakes Jinyoung to his core. Who the hell is this guy, exactly? Jinyoung feels a surge of defensiveness and unconsciously snaps, "What?"
Jaebum flinches. His stance is empty of arrogance now, his powerfully built shoulders slumped in defeat and eyes darting with mild panic from side to side but never meeting Jinyoung's. Against his better judgement, Jinyoung finds himself softening.
"What do you want?" Jackson prods none too ceremoniously, looking at his watch. "We're in a rush."
Jaebum's gaze snaps up at this, his eyes moving between Jackson and Jinyoung as if trying to figure out a puzzle that confounds him. Without warning, he sets his glass down on the floor of the deck and strides up to Jinyoung, whipping out a mahogany suede wallet. He slides a card out and presses it into Jinyoung's palm. His eyes rise to hold Jinyoung's, reaching into them urgently. "Call me," he leans forward to breathe in Jinyoung's ear almost unintelligibly before sauntering away, and Jinyoung is left trembling in the dizzying cloud of his musky cologne, wondering why the barest brush of Jaebum's lips against his earlobe sends earthquake-scale tremors through his bones; why the husky honey of Jaebum's voice feels for all the world like unspoken promises.
The card remains clutched tightly in Jinyoung's hand in a death grip all the time while they scour the mass of mingling partygoers for Yugyeom and Bambam, finally locating them by the raised voices of their slightly intoxicated bickering and ushering the two younger boys out of the banquet hall and towards the gangplank; while they hustle off board onto the quay where the yatch is moored, onto dry land; while Jackson pats Yugyeom's pockets for the keys to his vintage Volkswagen and packs them bawdily into it; while he gets into the passenger seat next to Jackson and watches detachedly as he revs the ignition and accelerates roughly onto the highway.
Yugyeom hiccups from the backseat and drapes his arms over Jackson's shoulder, licking his ear. Jinyoung shudders and looks away as Jackson swerves to the road shoulder and yells at Yugyeom to sit his ass down or Jackson will make it too painful to sit on.
"Remind me never to date a teenager again," Jackson mutters to Jinyoung, shaking his head wearily and getting back into the driver's seat after he has strapped Yugyeom down with his seat belt. Jinyoung barks a laugh.
"I'm notta 'eenager!" Yugyeom slurs, outraged. "I'm twenty-one," he proclaims importantly.
"Oh, really?" Jackson shoots back, smirking. "Funny because you act like you're twelve."
After Jackson has dumped Bambam at his house, Jinyoung feels sharp, hard edges cutting into his palm and looks down, surprised to find Jaebum's name card still doggedly lodged in his hand. He unravels his fingers and squints down at it in the dim encroaching nightfall. The card is damp with a sheen of cold sweat, seeming to shimmer in the moonlight with mysterious possibility. Jinyoung hungrily devours the few words embossed in an official-looking font on the card. It simply reads Im Jaebum, CEO, Im Enterprises. When he repeats it aloud to Jackson, he slams his foot down on the brakes, gravel crunching beneath the tires as his eyes widen dramatically.
"Holy shit," he breathes, snatching the card from Jinyoung. "CEO?"
In the backseat, Yugyeom grunts and continues snoring.
"I can not believe this," Jackson declares empathically. "Im Enterprises? The Im Enterprises?"
Jinyoung kind of gets where he's coming from. He might not have recognized Jaebum, but one would have to be living under a rock not to have heard of Im Enterprises, the fastest expanding multinational technological conglomerate in South and Northeast Asia in the last decade. He can hardly reconcile the title CEO with the imposing but nonetheless young man he met on the yatch a few hours ago. It's all starting to seem a little surreal.
"Jinyoung-ah," Jackson says softly, a glint Jinyoung decidedly does not like in his eyes. "How do you know this guy?"
"I-I don't know him," Jinyoung says quickly, grabbing the card back and shoving it in his pocket. "We barely talked for like, five minutes."
"Bullshit," Jackson snorts, eyes amused. "I'm sure Im Jaebum-sshi doesn't just go around giving out his name cards to random people."
"Believe what you like," Jinyoung deadpans, facing forward again. "Are we going to sit here all night, or are you going to drive home?"
The third evening after the party, Jinyoung is rudely interrupted in the groove he's wearing into their apartment carpet with his relentless pacing by Jackson throwing his phone at him.
"Call him, dumbass," Jackson intones, even before Jinyoung can protest his innocence. Jinyoung opens his mouth guiltily, but Jackson silences him with an imperious look, the look that says I'm your best friend so don't even try that crap on me.
Jinyoung groans. "I threw away the card," he lies.
Jackson hoots with laughter. "I think you meant you built a shrine for it."
When Jinyoung ignores him, he leaps off the couch and charges towards Jinyoung's room. "Alrighty then, I guess you don't mind me helping you to search."
"OI!" Jinyoung roars, tearing after Jackson. Sometimes he's pretty certain he's saddled with the worst roommate in the world.
The wrestling match that ensues ends, predictably, with a score of one-love, Jackson crowing in truimph as he emerges as the winner. He holds Jaebum's card aloft from where he had dug it out from under Jinyoung's pillow and gleefully scampers out of the room, already dialing the digits into Jinyoung's phone.
Jinyoung stumbles frantically after him, on the verge of tears. "NOOOO!" he releases an anguished cry as Jackson punches in the numbers and stabs the call button, then turns on the speakerphone.
Jinyoung's heart nearly jumps out of his throat as the phone starts ringing, every trill feeling like a jolt to his solar plexus. He buries his face in his hands with resigned dread, hoping against hope that maybe, thankfully, Jaebum won't answer, when --
"Hello?"
Jinyoung stifles a silent scream with his fist as he raises panicked eyes to Jackson, pleading for help. Jackson finally takes pity on him and opens his mouth to answer, but then Jaebum's face flashes into Jinyoung's mind, terse and drawn, his lips tight as his jaw clenched in animosity at Jackson. With remarkable reflexes that make Jackson's jaw drop in admiration, Jinyoung dives forward and seizes the phone, switching off the speaker and pressing it to his ear. It feels warm, alive, slippery in his clammy hands. "Hello?" Jaebum repeats, sounding pissed off now.
"H-hi?" Jinyoung stammers. It comes out uncertainly, like a question and he swallows hard.
There is a brief pause, then a sharp intake of breath over the line. Then a long, charged silence before Jaebum says quietly, "Jinyoung?"
His voice is completely changed, all traces of annoyance gone to soften into the silky dulcet that Jinyoung remembers. Jinyoung's eyes almost flutter closed to the intangible caress in that single word before he remembers that Jackson is staring at him.
He clears his throat and manages to choke out casually, "Yup. W-what's up?" tagging on a strangled giggle for good measure.
There is a soft exhalation on the other end of the line, and Jinyoung has the unaccountable feeling that Jaebum is smiling, not the tentative, cautious smile from the party, but a foolish, full-blown one. He surprises himself with how much he wants to see it.
"Jinyoung," Jaebum says again, now an affirmation instead of a query, and Jinyoung is no longer in any doubt that he's smiling. "Thank you --" Jaebum's voice breaks, thickening with an unreadable emotion as he continues softly, "Thank you for calling."
"You can stop grinning creepily now," Jackson says when Jinyoung hangs up after ten minutes of conversation that felt like ten lifetimes because of how much had changed in their span. And it feels like everything has. Can this be the same world he lived in ten minutes ago, before he had spoken to Jaebum, pretended to let himself reluctantly get talked into a date the next day at a restaurant in one of the hotels owned by Jaebum's company? Jinyoung decides that it can't, that this might be an extremely vivid and heavenly dream he is going to wake up from any moment now. No wonder he feels like he's walking on clouds.
Jackson echoes his earlier remark cackling, and Jinyoung throws the phone at him.
"I thought you wouldn't call," Jaebum says the next day, his eyes somehow more intense than possible over the vast distance of the carved ornate table across which they are sitting, in a private dining room in the restaurant of the posh, fancy five-star hotel. That morning, a uniformed chauffer driving a Mercedes had shown up outside Jinyoung's house, bowing respectfully as he opened the door for him. He had not spoken a word all the way as Jinyoung fidgeted in the backseat, increasingly nervous. When they had arrived outside the hotel lobby, two doormen rushed to open the door for him and Jinyoung scrambled out ungracefully, unsettled by such servitude and thanking them profusely. The chauffer gestured discreetly to Jinyoung to follow him and he did, acutely aware of the unabashed opulence of the guests mingling at the reception, eyes widening like a bumpkin as he spotted a few famous faces, celebrities and ministers.
When he saw Jaebum lounging on one of the maroon couches dotting the lobby, Jinyoung had stopped in his tracks. Jaebum was distractedly flicking a burnished lighter open and closed, open and closed. Today, he was again dressed from head to toe in designer labels, looking more casual than before in a sleek navy blazer thrown over a simple white shirt with his inky black hair artfully tousled but still dripping understated class. Jinyoung wondered if he had a personal stylist and decided that he must have. It was humanly impossible for a businessman to have such impeccable taste.
Jinyoung thought he detected a slight tremor in Jaebum's fingers as he tipped a slender cigarette out of an embossed case and lit it deftly. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and drew on it deeply. Time seemed to slow down as Jinyoung took in the carelessness of Jaebum's tapered fingers tapping embers into an ashtray. Those fingers looked nimble, dexterous in a way that unexplainably made Jinyoung's face grow warm.
Then Jaebum looked up, seeming to sense his gaze, and jumped when he saw Jinyoung standing there. He leaped to his feet, dropping the cigarette, which landed on his wrist. Jinyoung gasped as he saw Jaebum grimace with surprise and pain and quickly dashed forward, grabbing his hand and cradling it in his own. "Is your hand okay?" he breathed, but Jaebum snatched it away as though stung, eyes widening at Jinyoung's proximity as he frantically backed away. "Y-yeah," he mumbled, stubbing out the cigarette which had fallen on the ground with the heel of his shoe. Jinyoung hastily edged away too, humiliated by Jaebum's rejection, but he could see a faint blush creeping up Jaebum's ears. "Are you hurt?" Jinyoung blurted out, wanting to approach and get a closer look at Jaebum's injury but not daring to.
"No," Jaebum said shortly, and Jinyoung thought he heard him mutter under his breath, "Only my pride."
The heels of Jaebum's polished leather shoes clicked across the sparkling linoleum of the lobby as he strode briskly towards the restaurant, his hand a light pressure on the small of Jinyoung's back. As they made their way, a few passing foreign dignitaries nodded in recognition to Jaebum, offering gracious smiles, and Jinyoung hurriedly bowed back starstruck, but Jaebum barely spared them a glance, his eyes never leaving Jinyoung. It felt overwhelming to be the center of Jaebum's undivided attention, and Jinyoung avoided his piercing gaze as he matched his pace to Jaebum's, feeling shabby and humbled in the face of Jaebum's effortless sophistication.
The private dining room turns out to be an unnecessary gesture, as Jaebum has already reserved all the tables in the restaurant. It's needlessly extravagant, almost flamboyantly excessive, but Jinyoung is already learning that this is a trademark of Jaebum's moves. When he does something, he either does it in a big way, or doesn't do it at all. Jinyoung isn't certain what this overreaching nature of going all out bodes for them, but he feels a faint current of unease in the pit of his stomach.
"Oh, well," Jinyoung shrugs offhandedly now, in response to Jaebum's statement. "You told me to," he says lamely.
Jaebum's eyes gleam inscrutably. "I did," he concurs. "But I never imagined --" he stops and shakes his head in disbelief, then smiles softly. "I was waiting."
Although Jinyoung skeptically finds it difficult to picture a busy, successful person like Jaebum sitting by the phone like him, hoping and wishing for Jinyoung's call, it's undeniably flattering and touching that Jaebum's words had not been just a throwaway gesture. But Jinyoung is careful not to flatter himself too much, to let the heady rush of Jaebum's attention get to his head. He is aware that Jaebum's only aim is to get into his pants, that he is the kind of person who loses interest in the chase after the conquest, that Jinyoung is only intriguing to him because he's a challenge. But despite knowing better, Jinyoung still finds himself caught in the thrall of Jaebum's crooked smile, the promise in his dark eyes. So he merely lets his lips curl into a restrained, noncommital smile, and pretends not to see the way Jaebum's face falls.
They peruse the menus in rather stilted silence, and after a few minutes Jaebum clicks his fingers, bringing the hostess hurrying in at once and decisively orders in low, fluent English. The maitre'd bows reverentially and moves on to Jinyoung, who orders in halting English. "We'll have a 1996 Bordeaux too," Jaebum adds as an afterthought as she glides out of the room, closing the door.
When she is gone, Jaebum eyes Jinyoung speculatively. "Your English isn't bad," he says, looking impressed as he twists a signet ring on his index finger idly, and Jinyoung is again drawn to the hypnotic breadth of his knuckles, the leashed strength of his hands.
"Jackson taught me a bit. He's from Hong Kong." Jinyoung ducks his head modestly, and when Jaebum doesn't reply Jinyoung looks up to see his forehead creased in displeasure.
"You guys seem close," Jaebum finally observes cryptically.
"We're best friends," Jinyoung replies easily, not expecting the impact his thoughtless words have on Jaebum, who leans forward, eyes burning into his. "Is that all?" he says, voice distinctly more chilly.
Jinyoung swallows, discomfited. "O-of course!" he blurts out too quickly, feeling his own anger bubble up as well. Who is Jaebum to interrogate him like this? "We live together too," he adds casually, defiantly, enjoying the way Jaebum's jaw tightens. But his stomach clenches coldly as those refined fingers he had been observing curl into fists on the table, Jaebum's knuckles paling. He might've taken it a little too far.
"You live together," Jaebum repeats flatly.
Jinyoung nods hesitantly, wishing he could take back his words. How had the conversation taken such a turn?
"Why?" Jaebum says quietly, barely audible, but at that moment Jinyoung is thankfully rescued by the reentrance of the maitre'd bearing a bottle of richly scarlet wine which she pours with a flourish into crystal glasses. Jinyoung takes a long gulp of his and it slides down his throat too fast, cold and smooth, crisply sweet with delightful champagne grape notes. If nothing else, Jinyoung has to admit that Jaebum is a connoisseur of wines.
Jaebum takes an equally lengthy pull on his drink, turning to the side and Jinyoung catches a glimpse of the strikingly chiseled lines of his profile, the aquiline nose and prominent Adam's apple bobbing in the smooth curve of his neck as he swallows. Jaebum turns, catching him staring and his eyes flare with surprise. Jinyoung hurriedly drops his gaze. He doesn't know how to answer the question Jaebum just broached and hopes that Jaebum has forgotten about it.
They finish the rest of the meal in companionable if slightly loaded silence, and Jinyoung savours the explosion of flavours in his mouth, sumptuous Western-Korean fusion cuisine with names he can't even wrap his tongue around. After a sinfully sweet dessert of rum and raisin ice cream and Kahlua truffles, he feels blissfully bloated and just the tiniest bit inebriated. What was the alcohol content of those truffles anyway? Jinyoung should've mentioned that he was kind of a lightweight when it came to holding his liquor.
Jinyoung dabs clumsily at his lips and scrunches up his napkin, rising unsteadily to his feet. He wobbles slightly, grabbing the chair for balance and in an instant Jaebum is by his side, looking solicitous. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine!" Jinyoung exclaims too loudly, shaking off Jaebum's hands. He repeats it again, a little softer.
Jaebum turns away from him, and it takes a minute for Jinyoung to realize that he's trying to hide his laughter.
"Im Jaebum!" Jinyoung sputters, outraged. "Are you laughing at me right now?"
Jinyoung turns to face him, rearranging his face solemnly, but his eyes are bright with mischief, his face flushed with supressed laughter. For a heartbeat, this unexpected boyishness takes Jinyoung's breath away.
So. There it is. Jaebum is actually really, really cute when he smiles. How could he not have known? Jinyoung curses softly.
"What did you say?" Jaebum says, looking startled.
"I said you're fucking adorable!" Jinyoung says loudly, the words ringing into the silence and hanging there between them for a heart-lurching beat, two.
Then Jaebum's face is just an inch from his, his eyes millimetres away, and up close Jinyoung feels like he could fall into their inexorable depths like quicksand and never find his way out. And Jaebum's lips are on his, soft and warm, moistened by the red wine, sweeter than sugar. Jinyoung's mouth is slack against his at first, taken by surprise, but his lips part inadvertently as Jaebum runs an insistent tongue along the seam, sliding confidently into his mouth and brushing his tongue daringly. Jaebum's strong arms come up reassuringly behind his back to catch him as Jinyoung's knees give, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he surrenders to the relentless probing of Jaebum's tongue and the delicious pressure of his mouth clamped over Jinyoung's, breathing him in, breathing for him.
It occurs to Jinyoung somewhere in the back of his mind that maybe this was what Jaebum had intended, to get him woozy and drugged, pliant and unresisting. Maybe Jaebum is more unscrupulous than Jinyoung had given him credit for. But Jinyoung can't exactly claim to be an unwilling victim, either as Jaebum backs Jinyoung against the wall and presses his hard body into the length of Jinyoung's, his erection throbbing unmistakably against Jinyoung's crotch. Things are suddenly moving too fast, too dangerously.
But contrary to Jinyoung's worst suspicions, Jaebum does not take advantage of his helpless state and haul him uncomplaining to a hotel room. Jinyoung can't help feeling a little disappointed, anticlimactic. In all honesty, the idea of Jaebum pressing him into the immense, downy bed of a magnificent suite and making achingly slow love to him hadn't been completely unattractive.
Nevertheless, it is with a great effort of willpower that Jaebum manages to stop himself from devouring Jinyoung completely, and he makes this clear to Jinyoung by the breath coming in jerky, laboured pants in Jinyoung's ear, the immovable iron of his hands spanning Jinyoung's ass, imprinting their shape into his skin as he pins Jinyoung firmly to the wall with his hips and grinds sloppily against Jinyoung's own hard, bursting cock, sinking his teeth into the skin of Jinyoung's shoulder to muffle his groans. Jinyoung ruts against him, rocking his hips in a rhythm that is all senseless, carnal want and no logic or self-preservation. He comes first in his underwear, a viscous rush of wetness and Jaebum's thrusts grow more urgent until he finally convulses and grows limp against Jinyoung's body, his weight leaning heavily on Jinyoung. Jinyoung holds him steady and runs a soothing hand over Jaebum's matted hair. His forehead is damp with sweat, his eyes closed and breaths still coming in harsh, shallow spurts, warm on Jinyoung's shoulder. Unbidden, Jinyoung feels a fierce rush of protectiveness for this unpredictable, enigmatic man, who has only expressed himself in awkward clumsiness so far but whose eyes seem to promise great reserves of warmth.
As Jinyoung brushes Jaebum's hair back with tentative fingers, Jaebum's arms come up behind him and settle on his back, fitting into the contours of his torso like they were designed to align right there. Jinyoung can't stifle a sigh of contentment as he nestles closer into Jaebum's body, inhaling his scent so deeply that it makes his head spin.
"Jinyoung-ah," Jaebum murmurs beside his ear, pulling back a little to gaze into Jinyoung's eyes, and the intimacy, the familiarity of the three syllables makes the backs of Jinyoung's eyes prickle inexplicably. Jaebum is looking down at him with such wonder, such tenderness, that Jinyoung can barely stand the proximity. Nervously, he stiffens and tries to squirm out of Jaebum's embrace, but then Jaebum stills him effortlessly with the simple gesture of the briefest kiss pressed to the crown of Jinyoung's head.
After they have straightened out each other's clothes, Jinyoung's hands lingering fondly on Jaebum's lapels, Jaebum laces their fingers together, interlocking them. Jinyoung swivels to look at him in alarm and Jaebum is glancing apprehensively at him, as if wordlessly asking if it's okay. Jinyoung blushes and bites back a smile, but doesn't pull his hand away.
Jaebum's hand is warm, callused but smooth, encompassing Jinyoung's reassuringly as he leads Jinyoung purposefully out of the restaurant and across the hotel lobby, never letting go or loosening his grip even once. He only releases it when they walk through the revolving doors onto the foyer of the hotel and a ostentatious Ferrari convertible, fire-engine red, glides to a halt before them. A valet climbs out from the driver's seat and deferentially offers Jaebum the keys. Jaebum smiles and slips a generous tip into his hand.
Jinyoung is unable to conceal his admiration, a low whistle escaping his teeth as he runs awed fingers over the spotless chrome exterior reflecting sunbeams. When he turns, Jaebum is peeking at him through his eyelashes, looking like a kid anxious for approval. When Jinyoung pronounces, "Sweet ride," his entire face lights up. "Wait till you see how this baby moves," he brags, opening the passenger door with an exaggerated flourish.
Jinyoung climbs in, bemused. "You call your car baby?"
Jaebum crosses over to the driver's side and slides in with practiced grace. "She's my girl," he winks lasciviously at Jinyoung.
Jinyoung's chest clenches without warning. "Do you... do you have a girlfriend?" he spits out as Jaebum revs up the engine and settles his hands on the stick shift and wheel, forehead furrowed in concentration.
Immediately, Jaebum stops everything to look up, meeting Jinyoung's eyes straight on. His eyes are serious, reproachful with a hint of teasing. "If I did," he says, lifting Jinyoung's chin with a gentle finger, "do you think I'd be here with you?"
Somewhere along the journey, Jaebum's hand creeps from the gearshift to rest proprietarily on Jinyoung's knee, his thumb stroking idly over Jinyoung's inner thigh. Jinyoung plays it cool and pretends not to notice, pretends he's not a quivering mess of jelly inside and Jaebum acts equally unconcerned, removing his hand after what feels like a tiny lifetime without any acknowledgement of his action.
"We're here," he says simply, smiling slightly as he uncoils his long body from the car and hurries attentively to Jinyoung's side. Jinyoung steps out of the car a little unsteadily, Jaebum's hand on his elbow anchoring him, the warmth emanating from his sturdy frame behind Jinyoung's back giving him a surge of security. Jinyoung cranes his neck to take in the villa sprawled before him, so big it could easily fit three of his apartments inside.
"You live here? Alone?" he murmurs in disbelief, and Jaebum smiles self-deprecatingly. "This is my summer house. I usually stay in an apartment near the office the rest of the time."
His summer house. Jinyoung swallows as he digests the words. Why has Jaebum brought him here, other than to carry out an elaborate plan of seduction that would end in Jinyoung capitulating and giving up his chastity? He feels the burden of pressure, of not being able to live up to Jaebum's expectations. Maybe he had overestimated himself when he thought he could match Jaebum at his game.
Jaebum seems to sense his reservations, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he says softly, smiling irresistibly at Jinyoung, "let's just chill and have fun, okay? No pressure."
It appears that those are the words Jinyoung has been subconsciously waiting to hear, because he instantly relaxes, the tension seeping out of his body. The cozy timbre of Jaebum's voice makes him feel like he's in good hands, like Jaebum will never do anything to hurt him. So Jinyoung takes a deep breath and beams back at Jaebum, slipping his hand trustingly into Jaebum's and following him over the threshold.
True to Jaebum's word, his house is the perfect place to have fun in summer, and even though fall is just beginning, they manage to make the most of the facilities. Since the weather is too chilly for swimming trunks, they change into more comfortable beachwear before heading to the pool at the back of the house to sunbathe. The water is an undisturbed, chlorine blue with not a single ripple, so clear Jinyoung can see right to the sun's heptagonal shadows dancing over the bottom.
He laughs till his stomach hurts as he watches Jaebum cannonball into the pool from the diving board, catapulting into the aqua with a majestic splash and drenching Jinyoung who is sitting by the poolside and dipping his feet in the water in Jaebum's Bermudas, which hang low on his hips and billow over his knees. Jaebum's eyes run over his wet body with frank admiration, and Jinyoung splashes water at his roguish, taunting grin and shivers.
"You cold?" Jaebum calls, treading water.
When Jinyoung's teeth chatter in reply, he swims over with swift strokes and sinks into the water, blowing bubbles through his nose. A hand closes around Jinyoung's ankle and before he can yell Jaebum has dragged him into the water with a resounding splash, breaking the surface laughing and sputtering, shaking drops off his hair like a dog.
Jinyoung pretends to make a big fuss, pouting and glaring at Jaebum, but secretly sneaks glances at the carefree grin that splits Jaebum's face, his deep laugh reverberating in Jinyoung's ears and sending thrills down his spine.
Jinyoung floats on his back, letting himself grow weightless and gazing up towards the vast, endless expanse of crystal blue sky. At this very moment, lying in Jaebum's pool with Jaebum floating languidly beside him, counting the droplets of water starring Jaebum's eyelashes, Jinyoung feels perfectly, heartbreakingly happy. If only they could remain together forever, in this tiny fraction of eternity.
Sometime later, the midday sun beating down and caressing Jinyoung's face, the water lapping at his ears lulls him into a shallow doze. He wakes up to find himself no longer in the pool but lying on one of the deck chairs by the edge, under an umbrella. He sits up and looks around him, bewildered.
Jaebum emerges from the house carrying a bubbly orange drink with a cute little umbrella inside too, lips curling into a smile when he sees Jinyoung awake. "It's dangerous to fall asleep in the pool," he chides teasingly. "Luckily a knight in shining armour rescued you."
Jinyoung blinks. "You carried me here?" he says hoarsely, and his embarrassment seems to be contagious because Jaebum lowers his gaze with an honestly adorable, bashful smile. Jinyoung is suddenly, painfully aware that Jaebum is topless except for a towel slung precariously low on his hips, exposing the defined lines of his abdomen and hipbones, the trail of dark hair leading from his taut, ripped stomach down to his pelvis... Jinyoung takes a huge gulp of his drink and promptly chokes.
"Are you okay?" Jaebum demands in alarm, patting Jinyoung's bare back. Even after Jinyoung stops coughing, his hand stays on Jinyoung's shoulderblade, feverishly hot against his cool skin.
"Yeah," Jaebum mumbles, and Jinyoung squints up at him. "I mean yes, I carried you here," Jaebum clarifies. He abruptly removes his hand from Jinyoung's back, turning to leave. Jinyoung watches the shift of muscles beneath the tanned skin of his back longingly, his hand reaching out involuntarily to fondle it.
Jaebum swivels around sharply with a loud intake of breath. "What are you doing?" he says, voice hard, and Jinyoung recoils quickly. "I-- I-- sorry," he says lamely, chastised by Jaebum's second rejection.
"Jinyoungie," Jaebum breathes, his eyes softening but remaining wary. "I don't want to do anything you don't want. But why are you tormenting me?" His voice is anguished, and when he turns back again Jinyoung's breath catches in his throat at the raging erection visible through Jaebum's towel, the way his pupils are dilated, his narrow eyes blown almost pitch black.
Jaebum grabs Jinyoung's hand roughly and presses it against his crotch, hard. He sighs at the friction of Jinyoung's hand chafing against the thin fabric, eyelashes fluttering closed and Jinyoung can feel the pulsing heat of his cock as if it's flush against his hand. His own cock twitches hungrily in his pants.
When he pulls away, Jaebum's eyes fly open, looking distressed and remorseful. "Sorry," he mutters, voice rough as sandpaper. "I can take care of this myself if you don't..." His voice trails away hopefully, and Jinyoung can hear his breathing still coming in uneven, irregular spurts.
A moan escapes Jaebum's mouth, part surprise, part desire as Jinyoung reaches out to press the heel of his palm against his cock, sinking to his knees in front of Jaebum and undoing the knotted towel with deft fingers. Tentatively, he laps at the tip of Jaebum's erect cock with his tongue, earning a tortured groan and Jaebum's hand closing over the back of his head, his fingers twisting in Jinyoung's hair. "M-more," Jaebum pants.
Jinyoung smiles and slowly, carefully takes Jaebum's cock into his mouth, inch by inch. When the head hits the back of Jinyoung's throat, he resists the urge to gag and swallows instead, wrapping his fingers around the base of Jaebum's cock to hold himself steady. By now, Jaebum is uttering unintelligible oaths under his breath, thrusting uncontrollably into the warmth of Jinyoung's mouth. Jinyoung flattens his tongue against the shaft of Jaebum's cock and sucks him to shuddering orgasm.
The tension rolls off Jaebum's body in waves as he sways bonelessly on his feet, bracing his hands on Jinyoung's shoulders to regain his balance. Jinyoung waits until Jaebum's breathing finally slows and grows measured, before relinquishing his support on Jaebum's body. He stands up, grinning impishly at Jaebum and licking his lips, and the smile that takes over Jaebum's face transforms it heart-stoppingly. Without a word, he lifts Jinyoung easily off his feet and sweeps him into his arms, carrying him into the house and up the staircase to the bathroom.
Jinyoung messes with the faucet, filling the massive claw-footed ceramic tub with hot water as Jaebum opens the cupboards, hunting for the bath salts. "Found it!" he announces truimphantly, opening the bottle and sprinkling the contents liberally in the almost full tub. "That's enough!" Jinyoung grabs his hand doubtfully, but Jaebum only laughs with unfettered glee, seizing another bottle and upending it.
"Yah!" Jinyoung yells with his hands on his hips, struggling between exasperation and laughter. "I'm not getting in there," he threatens, and Jaebum cowers and obediently stops adding salts. Instead, he produces a box of pastel-coloured flower petals which he scatters over the water, tinging the steam rising from the now-full tub with a lovely fragrance.
Jinyoung takes an appreciative whiff. "What's that?"
Jaebum smiles, advancing towards him. "Jasmine," he says, brushing a slow seductive finger across Jinyoung's cheek. Jinyoung doesn't struggle as Jaebum gathers him into his arms again and lowers him into the tub, water sloshing over the sides. He giggles. "Aren't you coming in?"
"Nah, I'll just watch you and jerk off over there," Jaebum points to the toilet bowl and says straight-faced.
"Are you serious?" Jinyoung stifles a howl of laughter.
Jaebum breaks into a broad, merciless grin. "Yeah, right," he gurgles with laughter, jumping into the tub like a ten-year-old and splashing water everywhere.
"Oh my god," Jinyoung splutters, rubbing water out of his eyes. "You're insufferable."
Jaebum only cackles evilly and wrestles Jinyoung below him.
Much later, they sit in the now half-empty tub, Jinyoung sitting between Jaebum's legs and reclining against his chest. Spooning. Jinyoung has never had the chance to be someone's little spoon, and it's an enormously warm feeling, a glow spreading from his chest throughout his body as Jaebum rubs concentric circles into Jinyoung's back with his palm. Their hands and toes are wrinkled and pruny from a day in the water, but both of them are too lazy to get out. They've had three rounds of exhausting, mind-blowing non-penetrative sex in various positions today, but all of that fades into the shadow of Jaebum's voice dripping with honey as he croons wordless endearments into Jinyoung's ear, the way Jinyoung has this unaccountable feeling that he's known Jaebum for far longer than two days, maybe two lifetimes. There is no rhyme or reason he should feel so at home in Jaebum's arms, when he knows close to nothing about him. But Jinyoung does.
It's been an unforgettable day, one of the most euphoric days of Jinyoung's life. He knows that Jaebum had brought him to his house on a carefully calculated quest to woo him, impress him with material comforts and dazzling luxuries. And Jinyoung had played right into his ruse, bought it hook line and sinker. But it doesn't bother him as much as it should, and Jinyoung knows he should probably be wondering why.
"Jaebum-sshi," he murmurs, and Jaebum opens an eye to look at him. "Mmm?"
Why me? Jinyoung wants to ask. Jaebum is obscenely rich, lacking for nothing, stunningly handsome and eligible. He could have anyone he wanted. What had he seen in ordinary, nondescript Jinyoung?
But before he can find a way to put these convoluted, confusing questions into words, Jaebum interrupts, "Call me hyung."
"What?" Jinyoung says, startled.
Jaebum traces a slow finger down Jinyoung's chest, scraping the sensitive nub of his nipple with a fingernail and drawing a whimper. "What's with the Jaebum-sshi?" His shoulders shake with mirth. "Call me hyung."
Jinyoung stammers, flustered. "H-hyung," he mumbles reluctantly.
"I can't hear you," Jaebum says patiently, grazing his teeth over Jinyoung's clavicles.
"Hyung!" Jinyoung whines. "Jaebum-hyung," and feels the curve of Jaebum's smile pressed into his neck.
Jinyoung spends that night in Jaebum's bed, Jaebum's soft snores lulling him into slumber, his head pillowed on Jaebum's bicep. The next morning, Jaebum drops him off on his way to work. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses today and he doesn't face Jinyoung, gazing blankly out of the window over the whitecaps of the sea beyond the freeway. He has opened the top of the convertible and the wind ruffles his hair hopelessly, making him look so wildly beautiful that Jinyoung feels a pang in his chest. Maybe Jaebum just isn't a morning person, which would explain his gruff silence and frosty aloofness since Jinyoung woke up alone in bed. Jinyoung doesn't want to think of any other reason.
He creeps into the house, tiptoeing to his room with his shoes in his hands but Jackson scares the shit out of him by flinging open his door as he passes and shrieking, "Gotcha!"
Jinyoung resists the urge to clobber him with the shoes and calms his racing heart. "What the --"
"Did you get laid?" Jackson crows so loudly the whole neighbourhood can hear, and Jinyoung hastily shushes him. Jaebum is barely down the street.
On the first day after that, Jinyoung carries his phone around with him the entire day, even when he's peeing and showering, beaming beatifically at it with excited trepidation. It doesn't ring and he frowns that night as he checks the battery and wonders if there's some glitch.
On the second day, he alternates between glaring at his phone and checking it obssessively for messages or missed calls.
On the third day, Jinyoung spends all his waking moments resisting the urge to call or text Jaebum with all his might. It literally takes everything short of Jackson tying him up to stop him from sending an accusing, needy text. Luckily, Jackson saves him from eternal humiliation by confiscating his phone.
By the fourth day, Jinyoung has given up hope. He is furious -- at Jaebum for toying with his feelings, at himself for waiting like a moron for a call that wasn't coming. It was obvious that Jaebum had long forgotten him, that the only one that day had meant anything to was him.
On the fifth day, Jinyoung takes the day off from fencing practice, too heartbroken to rouse himself from bed. Jackson supportively plays hooky with him and spends the day spooning melted ice cream into Jinyoung's mouth and passing him tissues as they marathon tearjerking Korean soap operas.
Jinyoung moves on with his life. He forgets Jaebum, or at least, tries to. Very hard. Unsuccessfully. It's ludicrous because he had only spent a day with Jaebum, but it had magnified in such proportions in Jinyoung's memory, burned behind his retinas, the images playing in a ceaseless loop on the back of his eyelids. He tells himself that Jaebum is merely a lowlife jerk who just happens to be slightly more aesthetically pleasing than most people. He's not worth Jinyoung's tears. But his heart seems to have a mind of its own.
Three weeks after that fateful first and last date, Jinyoung is stuffing his sweaty clothes into his duffel after practice when an unfamiliar number flashes across his phone display. His heart leaps into his throat as he reads and rereads the number. It can't be -- can it?
Before Jinyoung can snap out of his daze and hit the answer button with a shaking finger, the phone stops ringing. It vibrates twice and lights up with a pop-up notification of one missed call and Jinyoung stares saucer-eyed at the now ominously silent phone lying on the table as if it's catatonic. He sits there, frozen, for what might have been minutes or a lifetime until Jackson bangs open the door of the changing room and plops down beside him on the bench.
"Who died?" he jokes, seeing Jinyoung's ashen face, and Jinyoung swats him halfheartedly and buries his phone in his bag.
Deep in thought, he doesn't see the flashy car parked on the sidewalk outside their apartment until Jackson grinds his motorcycle to a halt and peels off his helmet, eyes popping. Jinyoung follows the direction of his gaze with a sinking feeling, not daring to believe his eyes until Jaebum is loping over and standing in front of them in the flesh, his narrowed eyes taking in Jinyoung sitting pillion astride the motorcycle, knees locked around Jackson's waist.
"Why didn't you answer my calls?" he demands without preamble. Jinyoung swallows. He had called more than once?
"I... I was busy," he hedges, evading Jaebum's eyes and clambering awkwardly off the motorcycle. Jackson turns off the engine and disembarks too, but Jaebum pointedly ignores him as he grabs Jinyoung's elbow none too gently and says low, "Come with me."
"Hey, hey," Jackson says, moving forward to assert himself between them. "He said he doesn't want to."
Jaebum's eyes flash menacingly as he finally acknowledges Jackson's presence. His hand tightens over Jinyoung's elbow as he takes a step forward too, his chest almost bumping Jackson's. "Did you?" he addresses Jinyoung, eyes piercing like lasers into his own, daring him to utter the affirmative.
Jackson's face darkens with challenge and his hands come up to grab Jaebum's lapels, and Jinyoung hurriedly bursts out, "I'll come!"
This gets their attention. "What?" Jackson turns to blink at him, dumbfounded.
"I'll come, okay?" Jinyoung growls. "Don't get your panties in a twist. Jackson-ah, go home first," he commands firmly, and Jackson opens his mouth to argue but Jinyoung pushes him towards the door. "Go," he says more lightly. "I'll just be a few minutes."
Jaebum looks disappointed by the words but doesn't say anything, and Jackson reluctantly backs away. "If you're not back in a few minutes, I'll come get you," he threatens before finally disappearing into the lobby of their apartment.
Jaebum still hasn't let go of his arm. "Get into the car," he says in that authoritative tone he's been taking since the start. It really is incredibly irksome and Jinyoung rolls his eyes rebelliously, regretting the day he ever got involved with such a high-maintenance control freak.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Jaebum says incredulously, scowling at him, and Jinyoung doesn't dignify that with an answer, instead pulling open the passenger seat door and slumping inside with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes staring unsmilingly at the road.
Jaebum gets into the driver's seat, slamming the door too. Before he places his hand on the gear, he looks over at Jinyoung, eyes softening in concern. Before Jinyoung knows what's happening, Jaebum is leaning over him to pull his seatbelt on, clicking it into place. Jinyoung's breathing hitches at the sudden proximity of Jaebum's cheek, so close Jinyoung is sure Jaebum can feel his breath warm on his skin. Up close, Jaebum's skin is enviably unblemished, practically poreless, wisps of hair falling over his ears and curling at the nape of his neck. It really is the most indescribable shade of pitch black, even more so than the midnight sky. Jinyoung notices that he's sporting a single piercing on his earlobe, a dull silver spike.
When Jaebum turns, their lips are mere centimetres apart, not touching but just barely, a single breath away. It would be too easy to lean forward accidentally on purpose and seal their mouths over their already intermingling breaths. Jinyoung remembers with a pang of startling longing how Jaebum tastes, like expensive menthol cigars and bitter sweet brandy.
But then Jaebum jerks away and clears his throat, moving his hands to fasten his own seatbelt and settle on the wheel. He doesn't meet Jinyoung's eyes but Jinyoung thinks he can see a curious reddening of the tips of his ears.
"What do you want?" he blurts brusquely to fill the opaque tension in the car.
Jaebum floors the accelerator and deftly merges the car into traffic. Jinyoung tries not to look at his ringed hands on the wheel, blood rushing to his face when he thinks of the places of his body they've been.
Jaebum looks flustered by his direct question. After a pause, he repeats, "Why didn't you answer my calls?" but this time he sounds softer, more uncertain, as if he genuinely wants to know the answer.
Jaebum flips his hair out of his eyes and tries not to waver. "Because I didn't want to," he says shortly.
Jaebum's knuckles pale imperceptibly around the steering wheel. "Why not?" he says quietly, and Jinyoung vaguely registers a note of anger.
"Because you're an asshole," he retorts, holding his ground. He's not going to back down or play useless games. There's too much at stake to. "Why didn't you call me for a month?"
He's aware of how clingy the question sounds, his voice shrill and reedy, but the words can't be taken back, and hang in the air between them like a gauntlet thrown.
There is a pregnant, neverending pause in which Jinyoung wishes a hole in the ground would open up and swallow him. Finally, mercifully, Jaebum replies. "Three weeks," he corrects softly.
Jinyoung exhales loudly in frustration. "Is there a difference?" he says frostily. "Whatever. I'm done. Drop me up ahead at the station."
"Wait!" Jaebum says sharply, stopping Jinyoung's hand on the door handle. "Hear me out," he says, voice changing, turning pleading... desperate. "Please."
"My ears are open," Jinyoung snaps to disguise the way his heart melts a little at Jaebum's unnervingly puppylike eyes. They light up warily with hope, and Jaebum takes a deep breath and mumbles contritely, "I'm sorry. I was on a business trip."
Jinyoung's mouth drops open. Of all the excuses Jaebum could have given, he hadn't expected this. It's... not unbelievable, to say the least. Jinyoung hates the tidal wave of relief coursing through his veins and doesn't allow his wavering resolve to show on his face.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he fires back unforgivingly.
Jaebum looks frustrated, yanking back the gearshift. "It was our first date, for God's sake. I didn't want to come on too strong and scare you away. I didn't know if you wanted to see me again and I... I was more affected by that day than I thought I'd be. Jinyoung-ah, try to understand me. I was upset and not thinking straight and fighting the urge to just kidnap you and lock you up in my apartment."
The words knock the breath out of Jinyoung. It's the longest sentence Jaebum has strung together since they met, and the pallor of Jaebum's face indicates that it wasn't an easy feat for him. It's way too much to process all at once and Jinyoung doesn't want to believe him but he can't help himself. There is something so appealingly honest, so imperative about Jaebum's eyes that pierces straight to Jinyoung's heart.
Jaebum inhales softly, seeming to compose himself and after a few seconds his posture relaxes, a rakish smile spreading over his face. "I'm a very important man, you know," he murmurs, as if emboldened by Jinyoung's silence. "I wish I didn't have to go, but it would've cost the company losses of multi-millions."
Jinyoung snorts. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" he lifts an eyebrow, and Jaebum deflates a bit. But then his face lights up like a child's as he apparently remembers something. "I got you a present," he says bashfully, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his closed fist eagerly. When he opens it, Jinyoung gasps to see a miniature porcelain figurine of a cow, spotted and china blue, small enough to fit into the nest of Jaebum's palm.
"It's precious," he breathes, running a finger over the cool fragile body. Jaebum laughs, deep and musical, bubbling from his lips. "It reminded me of you."
Jinyoung gapes at him. "... I remind you of a cow?" He feels hysterical laughter rising irrepressibly from his throat and struggles to contain it, failing miserably. Soon, he's wheezing for air and wiping a tear from his eyes. He hopes Jaebum can't tell how touched he is by the ridiculous gift.
But Jaebum is laughing too, giggling uncharacteristically like an adolescent boy and protesting, "I didn't mean it that way!" and suddenly all the angst of the past few weeks seems senseless and all but forgotten. They laugh until they're too exhausted to, the laughter dying away into a mildly awkward silence as they try to regulate their breathing. An easy, smug smile plays at the edges of Jaebum's lips and it kind of simultaneously makes Jinyoung want to slap him and kiss it off his face.
But what makes Jaebum truly drop his swagger and appear to lose his composure is when Jinyoung's eyes fall on his wrist and detect the fading burn scar, small and faintly red. Impulsively, he reaches out to pick up Jaebum's hand and lift it closer to study. "Does it still hurt?" he whispers, and Jaebum swerves sharply to the road shoulder, his normally skilled driving growing shaky.
He flips his hand over, catching Jinyoung's in his palm and caressing his knuckles with the rough pad of his thumb. When Jinyoung looks up, Jaebum's eyes are luminous with hope, questioning in the hazy light of the moon. In answer, Jaebum inclines his head slightly, a smile creeping into his eyes. "Kiss it better," he whispers huskily, and Jinyoung takes a tremulous breath as he raises Jaebum's hand to his mouth, keeping his eyes on Jaebum's and brushing his knuckles with his lips until Jaebum closes his eyes as if in pain, as if he can't bear to hold Jinyoung's gaze a second more.
part 2