wedspawn: Lavender Bunny Section Sixteen (SMM Universe)
Title: Lavender Bunny (SMM Universe)
Section: Sixteen
Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating:R
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
Synopsis: A continuation of the relationship between Yoochun and Junsu from So Much Mine. Once again, hot pretty boys, music, dancing and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
Sections
One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen
With his headphones on and eyes closed, Junsu lay back on his bed, stretched out for a few hours of lazing around while the others did other things. Rarely alone in the apartment, he reveled in the scant time he could spend alone, something he’d found was a necessity for his well-being. In their old apartment, he’d fled to anywhere quiet, often holing up in the outer alcove of the bathroom for some inner peace. Being alone gave his mind time to wander, often brushing on things that he needed to do or to daydream on what he wanted to be.
The conversation with Junho went well, his older brother listening to his ramblings about Yoochun and offering advice. Despite being more traditional in his ways than Junsu, the young man supported the singer’s decision in loving Yoochun, reasoning to his younger brother that life was too short and a man had to make happiness where he could find it.
Their parents, already inured to their younger son’s proclivities, would easily welcome the affectionate Yoochun, a good match for the often too serious, private Junsu they knew. Junho left the conversation with soothing words, hoping the best for his brother and wishing Junsu would share more of who he was inside with the world. Only good would come of that, the other said before reminding his brother that he loved him. Thinking back on the call, Junsu smiled, letting the music playing softly in his ears carry him off towards another train of thought.
A hand on his bare toes startled him, the shake jostling Junsu from his musings. Cracking open an eye, he inwardly groaned at the sight of Changmin standing at the end of his bed, the younger member’s face set for discussion. Mentally kissing away his quiet morning, Junsu gave the boy a quick smile, sitting up and resigning himself to a lengthy conversation.
Sitting down on Yoochun’s mattress, Min waited for Junsu to slide the headphones from his head. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for... pushing myself on you. I... took some things... wrong and I needed to...”
“Ah, Min.” The tenor grasped at the younger man’s hands, cupping his palms over Changmin’s fingers. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
“No, I think I do.” Changmin’s eyes narrowed slightly. Once again the stigma of being the baby in the group reared up, the dismissive pat on his hands indicative of Junsu’s mindset. “Let me finish, hyung. Please. Before I get too tired of saying that.”
“Jaejoong told me about you and Yoochun.” Min spoke softly, his words chosen carefully. Watching Junsu’s face, the younger man sighed at the look of relief crossing quickly over the other’s features. “I’m not going to take back what I said, Junnie-ah. I can’t say that I don’t feel...something for you because I do.”
“Minnie-ah...” Junsu’s mouth was cut off by Min’s fingers on his lips, sealing the words before they were spoken.
“Nope. I’m talking.” Changmin shook his head. “I’m not a child, Junsu. I wanted to tell you that. No matter what you think about me... I’m not a child. I’m going to make mistakes and I’m going to feel things that I’m going to have to work through, but those will be my mistakes...and my emotions. It doesn’t make me any less than you or the others.”
“I know, Min.” Junsu lightly kissed the other’s fingertips, reaching out to cup the back of the younger man’s head. Changmin’s hair was soft to Junsu’s touch, a delicate kiss of fine silk burnished with gold. “I... didn’t mean to... treat you differently. It’s just that you are... younger. So much of what the four of us do together, you haven’t done or aren’t old enough yet.”
“I am.” Changmin reassured him. “I might not choose to drink soju until I fall down dizzy or throw up...”
“Well, you pass out.” Junsu remarked, reminding the young man with a sly grin.
“Or pass out.” Min slanted a cutting look at his friend. “But that doesn’t mean I should be coddled. I don’t ask for that. I don’t want it. There’s only a couple of years between us. I’m the same age in this group... at a time when you were still in training and wondering if you were ever going to be placed. I deserve that respect for making it here. I am sorry that I have to demand it.”
“No, you shouldn’t have to demand it. We should have given it to you.” Junsu agreed. “It is different dealing with you than the others. You know that, yes?”
“I do.” Changmin said, a rueful smile on his face when Junsu slid over onto Micky’s bed, nestling back until they both sat against the wall.
Junsu brought the disreputable carnival bunny with him, its button eyes sadly mismatched and bobbling. Placing its lavender furred body between his legs, Junsu played with its ears, listening to Changmin’s dulcet tone.
“I don’t want to be different.” Min rested his temple on Junsu’s shoulder.
The touch of the other on his cheek gentled the turbulence in his soul, a rocking swing of emotions in his mind. It hurt to be so near the tenor, to have Junsu’s scent on his hands but not on the tip of his tongue. Regrettably, Changmin tried to set aside his feelings once more, for once, glad for his spot between Yunho and Jaejoong in the group line-up. Distance would be welcome for the time being, until he could gain some control over the pangs of loss he experienced whenever the other man was near.
“Jaejoong told me that... being nearly an adult means having intense feelings about things and that I shouldn’t let my emotions flare... that they were like sunspots... burning hotter than I should because I haven’t learned to moderate how I feel.” Changmin twisted the bunny’s ear tip between his fingers, letting the soft feathery plush run over his hand. “It’s easier to say that I can’t let it happen than it is to actually keep it from happening.”
“We all are like that. Or were.” Junsu remarked. “I remember being so angry at one of the trainees for taking my shoes. I wanted to kill him...literally kill him and it took me so long to remember that I was being silly. So, I think the worst part about being young is... not knowing how to deal with all of the changes to your heart and soul. Everything is so much brighter or louder and you never know how to... bleed off what you don’t need.”
“You feel everything at once and fully.” Changmin murmured. The tenor nodded, concurring with Min’s assessment. “I hate it. I just wish that it would go away or let me just... be like the rest of you.”
“It’s never going to stop being like that, Minnie-ah.” Junsu grimaced at the other’s wrinkled nose. “We’re... all temperamental. We’re artists. I imagine it’s worse for people who are solo artists because there’s no one around them that understands how hard it is. At least with the five of us, we’ve become a family... tight and one... not divided because of egos. We take our tempers and our perfections to push towards one goal. That’s what makes us stronger.”
“You sound like Yunho.” The youngest laughed, his smile brilliant with a tint of sadness.
“Ah, now you’re just being mean.” Junsu lightly punched Changmin’s thigh. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most mature of us. The four of us sometimes act like children and you’re always the one that can remind us to behave.”
“Only not on camera. Yunho is very much the leader then.” Changmin reminded him. “No arguing then.”
“No, not then.” Junsu agreed. “But just once, wouldn’t you like to stick your tongue out at him when he’s being very serious. Just to see his face?”
“What?” Changmin sat up, alarmed. “And have Jaejoong poison our food? I’ll rather just be the good boy standing there trapped between them while they grab at each other. It makes for good blackmail later when I need something.”
“See?” Junsu hooked his arm over Min’s head, pulling him down into the mattress, tickling him lightly and laughing at the younger man’s squeaks. “That’s why you get treated like a bratty younger brother!”
They nearly toppled off the bed, tangled into each others’ limbs, Junsu’s face nearly beet red with laughter while Min’s eyes were blind with tears. Unheard, Jaejoong entered the room, stopping at the doorway to stare at the two younger men. Sighing, the eldest leaned on the frame, crossing his arms on his chest and waited until their boisterous laughter subsided.
Giving both of the singers a dirty look, Jae teased. “Didn’t we already do this? Do I have to get a bucket of cold water?”
“No, umma.” Changmin broke free of Junsu’s grasp, scrambling over the tenor and past the eldest member, slipping out of Jaejoong’s reach. Calling out behind him, Min shouted. “You can save the bucket for Susu-an and Chunnie. They’ll be needing it.”
Jaejoong smiled at Junsu, holding his hand out for the younger man to grab and helped him to his feet. Brushing off the seat of his pants, Junsu grinned at Jae through the mess of his hair, grabbing at the bunny and placing it firmly on Yoochun’s pillow.
“It’s good to see him laugh.” Junsu said, wrapping the cord around his headphones, his quiet time shattered and reformed with Changmin’s giggles.
“It is, Junnie-ah.” Jaejoong nodded, his pretty face thoughtful for a long moment. “Nearly as good as it is to hear you laugh as well. Now come on, Yunho made lunch. At least we’ll all be happy before Yunho’s cooking kill us. I suppose indigestion is better than sorrow.”
“Why do you let him cook?” Junsu complained, dragging his feet out of the door and stomping down the hall after Jaejoong. “He’s horrible at it. You should have made lunch. You make lunch. The rest of us wash dishes. Everyone lives to see another day.”
“He’s trying to be... equal.” The singer rolled his eyes, shaking his head in mild disgust. “Something I think you said to him. When you’re choking on your food, just remember, you spiced the dish first”
“We’re going to eat every scrap of food that Yunho has made and smile... so we’re equals.” Jae pushed the younger man towards the dining area, Changmin already setting the table for their meal. “You should think more with your stomach than your mind, Junsu. So far, your brain hasn’t been a good friend. And if we get sick, then it’s going to be your only friend.”
“Park Yoochun?” Pulled from reading the menu of a take out place, Yoochun looked around, curious about who would be calling his name on a busy Seoul street.
He’d fled the house after lunch, barely hiding the food on his plate beneath a napkin. Yunho’s rice was nearly black on the bottom, the egg mixture he’d poured into the pot sinking straight through the grains and onto the unoiled skillet. All things considered, the smoke easily dissipated once the windows were open but the rotten sickly smell of charred fish turned the others’ appetites, leaving Yoochun with a hunger that he told Junsu he’d sate elsewhere.
An older man, his face worn tight with a sour temple stepped from the crowd of people waiting for their orders. His barrel-chest puffed out the fine cut of his suit, thick black hair greased back from his forehead. His thin lips were pressed tight, a sense of displeasure in the way he walked towards Yoochun, hands swinging near his tense hips.
Yoochun’s chin came up, caution tightening his chest as Yunho’s father approached. Warily, the singer stepped clear of the ordering window, not wanting to be trapped against the side wall. He couldn’t see anything of Yunho in Mr. Jung’s face or walk. None of the hidden goofiness Yunho could have when he was in a playful mood and certainly none of the tenderness the leader showed to Jaejoong when he thought none of the others were watching. The disparity of the Jungs’ body language was significant, Yunho’s stalwart solidity a sharp contrast to the man’s extended bitterness towards the world.
“You are Park Yoochun, yes?” Authoritative, Jung spoke as if he was unused to anyone challenging him, his eyes devoid of warmth. “I need to speak with you.”
“I’m not very close to Yunho.” Yoochun inclined his head in slight respect. “I am afraid that if you need someone to mediate, you should speak to him directly or approach Jaejoong. Perhaps your wife even..”
“I’d prefer to have this discussion someplace private.” Jung motioned to where a sleek, black town car waited by the curb. “My wife is visiting with friends. I took the time to come to speak to you directly rather than my son.”
Yoochun felt an unease in his belly at the sight of the car, a whispering cautionary tingle at the base of his skull. A wood slat bench sat on a knoll near the side of the park, the singer pointing towards the seating. “We can go over there if you like. It’s a nice day. I’d rather be outside.”
Jung sat first, not waiting for the young man to become comfortable before handing Yoochun a manila envelope. Curious, Micky opened the tab, shaking out the contents and spreading them onto his lap. He glanced up expectantly at the older man before inspecting the pages, a small smile on his mouth when he was greeted with a photo of a gleeful smile on Jaejoong’s face.
It was a rare moment when the joy in Jae’s torn soul healed long enough under the brilliance of his child-like laughter. Even rarer for those few seconds to be caught on film. Naked to the waist and the wind blowing at the fringe along his forehead, Jaejoong’s hands were gripping at his drawn up knees, dark amber-flecked eyes staring off at something in the distance.
Some photos showed he and Yoochun walking down the winding path through the park’s hills while others captured their sharing an orange, licking at the juices on their hands and even holding the memory of a kiss Jaejoong gave him, stealing a boba pearl from Yoochun’s mouth. It was obvious they were taken on different days, clothing and shadows changing from morning to afternoon but the constant was the deep friendship of the two singers, frozen on paper and gel.
“How long have you been fucking my son’s catamite?” Jung’s words were ice on Micky’s heart, a study in hatred tempered through the man’s voice. “Does Yunho know that the whore sleeps with both of you or maybe this just some game where he spreads his legs for one or the other, depending on which day? Maybe if you convince that whore to leave my son alone...”
Yoochun’s fist suddenly hurt, his clenched fingers pounding with pain. A dry, searing heat cut over his knuckles, the joints swelling from the impact against Jung’s face. Micky blinked, finding himself standing over the older man’s prone body, Jung’s suit smeared with the moist yellow dirt from under the bench’s iron legs.
“Get the fuck up.” Yoochun’s rage spread through him, a wild fire catching on the kindling of his love for his best friend. “Get up so I can hit you again.”
“Is this how you treat your elders? Is this how they raise their sons in America?” Jung spat back, his hand slipping out from under him as he attempted to get to his feet. Yoochun held himself back, stepping away from the other man in an attempt to calm himself.
“Kim Jaejoong is the best thing that ever happened to the man you used to call your son.” Micky didn’t bother keeping his voice down. “Jung Yunho is a better man for having Jaejoong in his life. Yunnie-ah will never want for someone to care for him or wonder if his lover will walk out on him because he does something Jae might not approve of. That kind of love should come from a parent. That is what someone should know before they offer their heart to someone else. It’s your shame that Yunho had to get that from Jaejoong.”
With the filth pouring from Jung’s mouth, Yoochun chose to disregard any concern he might have for appearances, refusing to suffer the arrogance and stupidity of the man he’d hit, despite every teaching drilled into his head about respect. Micky no longer cared if someone spotted him and recognized him as a member of a singing group and he was certain that none of the others, save Jae himself, would care if their group failed because of it. The man lying on the ground lost any right to anything when he spoke of the hyungs he loved as family.
“I’m taking these.” Micky grabbed at the photos, shoving them back into the envelope. “Not because I am ashamed of my relationship with Jaejoong but because I am proud of it. I’m glad for these photos because it shows how much I love Jae and how much he loves me. I have been blessed with that because no one loves as fully or openly as Kim Jaejoong.”
“If you want the truth, I’m thankful every day that Joongie-ah fell in love with Yunho so your son would know what love really is like.” Waving the envelope in front of Jung’s face, Yoochun leaned over, his face ugly with anger and spat, hitting the man’s cheek with a flare of spittle. “Not the disgusting manipulation you seem to think it means but what it really is. I can only hope that your wife had a lover so none of your blood is in Yunho’s veins. I certainly see none of it in his heart.”
Section: Sixteen
Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating:R
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
Synopsis: A continuation of the relationship between Yoochun and Junsu from So Much Mine. Once again, hot pretty boys, music, dancing and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
Sections
One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen
With his headphones on and eyes closed, Junsu lay back on his bed, stretched out for a few hours of lazing around while the others did other things. Rarely alone in the apartment, he reveled in the scant time he could spend alone, something he’d found was a necessity for his well-being. In their old apartment, he’d fled to anywhere quiet, often holing up in the outer alcove of the bathroom for some inner peace. Being alone gave his mind time to wander, often brushing on things that he needed to do or to daydream on what he wanted to be.
The conversation with Junho went well, his older brother listening to his ramblings about Yoochun and offering advice. Despite being more traditional in his ways than Junsu, the young man supported the singer’s decision in loving Yoochun, reasoning to his younger brother that life was too short and a man had to make happiness where he could find it.
Their parents, already inured to their younger son’s proclivities, would easily welcome the affectionate Yoochun, a good match for the often too serious, private Junsu they knew. Junho left the conversation with soothing words, hoping the best for his brother and wishing Junsu would share more of who he was inside with the world. Only good would come of that, the other said before reminding his brother that he loved him. Thinking back on the call, Junsu smiled, letting the music playing softly in his ears carry him off towards another train of thought.
A hand on his bare toes startled him, the shake jostling Junsu from his musings. Cracking open an eye, he inwardly groaned at the sight of Changmin standing at the end of his bed, the younger member’s face set for discussion. Mentally kissing away his quiet morning, Junsu gave the boy a quick smile, sitting up and resigning himself to a lengthy conversation.
Sitting down on Yoochun’s mattress, Min waited for Junsu to slide the headphones from his head. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for... pushing myself on you. I... took some things... wrong and I needed to...”
“Ah, Min.” The tenor grasped at the younger man’s hands, cupping his palms over Changmin’s fingers. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
“No, I think I do.” Changmin’s eyes narrowed slightly. Once again the stigma of being the baby in the group reared up, the dismissive pat on his hands indicative of Junsu’s mindset. “Let me finish, hyung. Please. Before I get too tired of saying that.”
“Jaejoong told me about you and Yoochun.” Min spoke softly, his words chosen carefully. Watching Junsu’s face, the younger man sighed at the look of relief crossing quickly over the other’s features. “I’m not going to take back what I said, Junnie-ah. I can’t say that I don’t feel...something for you because I do.”
“Minnie-ah...” Junsu’s mouth was cut off by Min’s fingers on his lips, sealing the words before they were spoken.
“Nope. I’m talking.” Changmin shook his head. “I’m not a child, Junsu. I wanted to tell you that. No matter what you think about me... I’m not a child. I’m going to make mistakes and I’m going to feel things that I’m going to have to work through, but those will be my mistakes...and my emotions. It doesn’t make me any less than you or the others.”
“I know, Min.” Junsu lightly kissed the other’s fingertips, reaching out to cup the back of the younger man’s head. Changmin’s hair was soft to Junsu’s touch, a delicate kiss of fine silk burnished with gold. “I... didn’t mean to... treat you differently. It’s just that you are... younger. So much of what the four of us do together, you haven’t done or aren’t old enough yet.”
“I am.” Changmin reassured him. “I might not choose to drink soju until I fall down dizzy or throw up...”
“Well, you pass out.” Junsu remarked, reminding the young man with a sly grin.
“Or pass out.” Min slanted a cutting look at his friend. “But that doesn’t mean I should be coddled. I don’t ask for that. I don’t want it. There’s only a couple of years between us. I’m the same age in this group... at a time when you were still in training and wondering if you were ever going to be placed. I deserve that respect for making it here. I am sorry that I have to demand it.”
“No, you shouldn’t have to demand it. We should have given it to you.” Junsu agreed. “It is different dealing with you than the others. You know that, yes?”
“I do.” Changmin said, a rueful smile on his face when Junsu slid over onto Micky’s bed, nestling back until they both sat against the wall.
Junsu brought the disreputable carnival bunny with him, its button eyes sadly mismatched and bobbling. Placing its lavender furred body between his legs, Junsu played with its ears, listening to Changmin’s dulcet tone.
“I don’t want to be different.” Min rested his temple on Junsu’s shoulder.
The touch of the other on his cheek gentled the turbulence in his soul, a rocking swing of emotions in his mind. It hurt to be so near the tenor, to have Junsu’s scent on his hands but not on the tip of his tongue. Regrettably, Changmin tried to set aside his feelings once more, for once, glad for his spot between Yunho and Jaejoong in the group line-up. Distance would be welcome for the time being, until he could gain some control over the pangs of loss he experienced whenever the other man was near.
“Jaejoong told me that... being nearly an adult means having intense feelings about things and that I shouldn’t let my emotions flare... that they were like sunspots... burning hotter than I should because I haven’t learned to moderate how I feel.” Changmin twisted the bunny’s ear tip between his fingers, letting the soft feathery plush run over his hand. “It’s easier to say that I can’t let it happen than it is to actually keep it from happening.”
“We all are like that. Or were.” Junsu remarked. “I remember being so angry at one of the trainees for taking my shoes. I wanted to kill him...literally kill him and it took me so long to remember that I was being silly. So, I think the worst part about being young is... not knowing how to deal with all of the changes to your heart and soul. Everything is so much brighter or louder and you never know how to... bleed off what you don’t need.”
“You feel everything at once and fully.” Changmin murmured. The tenor nodded, concurring with Min’s assessment. “I hate it. I just wish that it would go away or let me just... be like the rest of you.”
“It’s never going to stop being like that, Minnie-ah.” Junsu grimaced at the other’s wrinkled nose. “We’re... all temperamental. We’re artists. I imagine it’s worse for people who are solo artists because there’s no one around them that understands how hard it is. At least with the five of us, we’ve become a family... tight and one... not divided because of egos. We take our tempers and our perfections to push towards one goal. That’s what makes us stronger.”
“You sound like Yunho.” The youngest laughed, his smile brilliant with a tint of sadness.
“Ah, now you’re just being mean.” Junsu lightly punched Changmin’s thigh. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most mature of us. The four of us sometimes act like children and you’re always the one that can remind us to behave.”
“Only not on camera. Yunho is very much the leader then.” Changmin reminded him. “No arguing then.”
“No, not then.” Junsu agreed. “But just once, wouldn’t you like to stick your tongue out at him when he’s being very serious. Just to see his face?”
“What?” Changmin sat up, alarmed. “And have Jaejoong poison our food? I’ll rather just be the good boy standing there trapped between them while they grab at each other. It makes for good blackmail later when I need something.”
“See?” Junsu hooked his arm over Min’s head, pulling him down into the mattress, tickling him lightly and laughing at the younger man’s squeaks. “That’s why you get treated like a bratty younger brother!”
They nearly toppled off the bed, tangled into each others’ limbs, Junsu’s face nearly beet red with laughter while Min’s eyes were blind with tears. Unheard, Jaejoong entered the room, stopping at the doorway to stare at the two younger men. Sighing, the eldest leaned on the frame, crossing his arms on his chest and waited until their boisterous laughter subsided.
Giving both of the singers a dirty look, Jae teased. “Didn’t we already do this? Do I have to get a bucket of cold water?”
“No, umma.” Changmin broke free of Junsu’s grasp, scrambling over the tenor and past the eldest member, slipping out of Jaejoong’s reach. Calling out behind him, Min shouted. “You can save the bucket for Susu-an and Chunnie. They’ll be needing it.”
Jaejoong smiled at Junsu, holding his hand out for the younger man to grab and helped him to his feet. Brushing off the seat of his pants, Junsu grinned at Jae through the mess of his hair, grabbing at the bunny and placing it firmly on Yoochun’s pillow.
“It’s good to see him laugh.” Junsu said, wrapping the cord around his headphones, his quiet time shattered and reformed with Changmin’s giggles.
“It is, Junnie-ah.” Jaejoong nodded, his pretty face thoughtful for a long moment. “Nearly as good as it is to hear you laugh as well. Now come on, Yunho made lunch. At least we’ll all be happy before Yunho’s cooking kill us. I suppose indigestion is better than sorrow.”
“Why do you let him cook?” Junsu complained, dragging his feet out of the door and stomping down the hall after Jaejoong. “He’s horrible at it. You should have made lunch. You make lunch. The rest of us wash dishes. Everyone lives to see another day.”
“He’s trying to be... equal.” The singer rolled his eyes, shaking his head in mild disgust. “Something I think you said to him. When you’re choking on your food, just remember, you spiced the dish first”
“We’re going to eat every scrap of food that Yunho has made and smile... so we’re equals.” Jae pushed the younger man towards the dining area, Changmin already setting the table for their meal. “You should think more with your stomach than your mind, Junsu. So far, your brain hasn’t been a good friend. And if we get sick, then it’s going to be your only friend.”
“Park Yoochun?” Pulled from reading the menu of a take out place, Yoochun looked around, curious about who would be calling his name on a busy Seoul street.
He’d fled the house after lunch, barely hiding the food on his plate beneath a napkin. Yunho’s rice was nearly black on the bottom, the egg mixture he’d poured into the pot sinking straight through the grains and onto the unoiled skillet. All things considered, the smoke easily dissipated once the windows were open but the rotten sickly smell of charred fish turned the others’ appetites, leaving Yoochun with a hunger that he told Junsu he’d sate elsewhere.
An older man, his face worn tight with a sour temple stepped from the crowd of people waiting for their orders. His barrel-chest puffed out the fine cut of his suit, thick black hair greased back from his forehead. His thin lips were pressed tight, a sense of displeasure in the way he walked towards Yoochun, hands swinging near his tense hips.
Yoochun’s chin came up, caution tightening his chest as Yunho’s father approached. Warily, the singer stepped clear of the ordering window, not wanting to be trapped against the side wall. He couldn’t see anything of Yunho in Mr. Jung’s face or walk. None of the hidden goofiness Yunho could have when he was in a playful mood and certainly none of the tenderness the leader showed to Jaejoong when he thought none of the others were watching. The disparity of the Jungs’ body language was significant, Yunho’s stalwart solidity a sharp contrast to the man’s extended bitterness towards the world.
“You are Park Yoochun, yes?” Authoritative, Jung spoke as if he was unused to anyone challenging him, his eyes devoid of warmth. “I need to speak with you.”
“I’m not very close to Yunho.” Yoochun inclined his head in slight respect. “I am afraid that if you need someone to mediate, you should speak to him directly or approach Jaejoong. Perhaps your wife even..”
“I’d prefer to have this discussion someplace private.” Jung motioned to where a sleek, black town car waited by the curb. “My wife is visiting with friends. I took the time to come to speak to you directly rather than my son.”
Yoochun felt an unease in his belly at the sight of the car, a whispering cautionary tingle at the base of his skull. A wood slat bench sat on a knoll near the side of the park, the singer pointing towards the seating. “We can go over there if you like. It’s a nice day. I’d rather be outside.”
Jung sat first, not waiting for the young man to become comfortable before handing Yoochun a manila envelope. Curious, Micky opened the tab, shaking out the contents and spreading them onto his lap. He glanced up expectantly at the older man before inspecting the pages, a small smile on his mouth when he was greeted with a photo of a gleeful smile on Jaejoong’s face.
It was a rare moment when the joy in Jae’s torn soul healed long enough under the brilliance of his child-like laughter. Even rarer for those few seconds to be caught on film. Naked to the waist and the wind blowing at the fringe along his forehead, Jaejoong’s hands were gripping at his drawn up knees, dark amber-flecked eyes staring off at something in the distance.
Some photos showed he and Yoochun walking down the winding path through the park’s hills while others captured their sharing an orange, licking at the juices on their hands and even holding the memory of a kiss Jaejoong gave him, stealing a boba pearl from Yoochun’s mouth. It was obvious they were taken on different days, clothing and shadows changing from morning to afternoon but the constant was the deep friendship of the two singers, frozen on paper and gel.
“How long have you been fucking my son’s catamite?” Jung’s words were ice on Micky’s heart, a study in hatred tempered through the man’s voice. “Does Yunho know that the whore sleeps with both of you or maybe this just some game where he spreads his legs for one or the other, depending on which day? Maybe if you convince that whore to leave my son alone...”
Yoochun’s fist suddenly hurt, his clenched fingers pounding with pain. A dry, searing heat cut over his knuckles, the joints swelling from the impact against Jung’s face. Micky blinked, finding himself standing over the older man’s prone body, Jung’s suit smeared with the moist yellow dirt from under the bench’s iron legs.
“Get the fuck up.” Yoochun’s rage spread through him, a wild fire catching on the kindling of his love for his best friend. “Get up so I can hit you again.”
“Is this how you treat your elders? Is this how they raise their sons in America?” Jung spat back, his hand slipping out from under him as he attempted to get to his feet. Yoochun held himself back, stepping away from the other man in an attempt to calm himself.
“Kim Jaejoong is the best thing that ever happened to the man you used to call your son.” Micky didn’t bother keeping his voice down. “Jung Yunho is a better man for having Jaejoong in his life. Yunnie-ah will never want for someone to care for him or wonder if his lover will walk out on him because he does something Jae might not approve of. That kind of love should come from a parent. That is what someone should know before they offer their heart to someone else. It’s your shame that Yunho had to get that from Jaejoong.”
With the filth pouring from Jung’s mouth, Yoochun chose to disregard any concern he might have for appearances, refusing to suffer the arrogance and stupidity of the man he’d hit, despite every teaching drilled into his head about respect. Micky no longer cared if someone spotted him and recognized him as a member of a singing group and he was certain that none of the others, save Jae himself, would care if their group failed because of it. The man lying on the ground lost any right to anything when he spoke of the hyungs he loved as family.
“I’m taking these.” Micky grabbed at the photos, shoving them back into the envelope. “Not because I am ashamed of my relationship with Jaejoong but because I am proud of it. I’m glad for these photos because it shows how much I love Jae and how much he loves me. I have been blessed with that because no one loves as fully or openly as Kim Jaejoong.”
“If you want the truth, I’m thankful every day that Joongie-ah fell in love with Yunho so your son would know what love really is like.” Waving the envelope in front of Jung’s face, Yoochun leaned over, his face ugly with anger and spat, hitting the man’s cheek with a flare of spittle. “Not the disgusting manipulation you seem to think it means but what it really is. I can only hope that your wife had a lover so none of your blood is in Yunho’s veins. I certainly see none of it in his heart.”