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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

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All I Need Is... [8]
Title: All I Need Is...
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Length: Chaptered
Genre: High School fic, Angst
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. I wish I had YunJae and if I had my way, they'd move to New Zealand so they can be MARRIED.

Summary: He fears the darkness, but yet hides in it. Shadows follow him wherever he goes whether awake or asleep. No one knows him, yet everyone knows of him. Everyone except another boy in his year. A rebel without a cause some say. Two boys who don’t know the existence of the other, until a chance encounter under the bright moonlight as they both search for the one thing they need that they cannot seem to get.

AN1: Wrote this on the plane, the turbulence was so bad the flight attendants were pale. I guess that panicked woman on the flight had some justification earlier. I’m in a bit of a mood so I gave in to this muse.

AN2: If someone knows who did the edit I used, please tell me so I can credit them or if whoever it is doesn’t want me using it, I can change it.


I usually last much longer than this.

But my days are empty and my nights are stark, and there is only so much a bored seventeen year old can do before he goes crazy.

What ever happened to the days of when I could just sit idly and watch the world go by? I could lose weeks at a time.

But the past three days have dragged like they have never ever dragged before in my entire pathetic existence.


I miss the kid.

I hate to admit it, but even I’m not stupid enough to delude myself.

The second he left, I regretted it. I had a million and one questions to ask him, but my fear had all but swallowed me whole.

I’d hurt him, the way someone else probably did, and I just cannot bear the thought that he might reject me forever for it.

And so what did I do? The supposedly smartest Jung in the family. Yes, smarter than even perfect Changmin.

I reject him first of course.

Out of nothing but fear.

Pure, unadulterated fear.

I am a coward, pure and simple. It’s pretty fucking laughable that I’m the one who’s been trying to protect him and yet I’m the one who’s left marks on him. Every time I close my eyes, for anything longer than a blink, I see my hand print seared into his side like a brand.

My brand.

My hand on his pale torso.


The pain still chokes me when I see that hand print. I can never sleep.


My door bangs open just then, and I turn, too weak to move, but angry enough at someone daring to breach my inner sanctuary that I am fueled by adrenaline as I stand up, arms already up in a defensive posture.

“At ease, soldier.” His voice is quiet. Annoyingly so for I know he can be really fucking loud. It’s when he gets quiet is when I should be on my guard. I can’t trust this fuck.

“Go to hell.”

I hate the look in his eyes as he stares at me. I expect him to turn around as he always does, jaw clenched, frustration in his eyes as he moves to leave but not this time.

This time he shuts the door behind him and leans against it, eyes never leaving me, looking overlarge behind his horn-rimmed glasses.

On anyone else, those glasses would look ridiculous.

But this isn’t anyone else.

This is Mr. Fucking Perfect himself.

Jung Changmin.

My Jaejoong almost fucking lost his head over this fucker.

I hate him.

“You need to sleep, Yunho. You can barely stand.”

“Get out, before I throw you out.”

His laughter is short and derisive, and it grates on my ears and my fists swing before my brain catches up.

I land at several good punches before I realize he isn’t defending himself.

“The fuck?”

“Do you feel better?” He spits out some blood as he touches his bleeding lip, wincing slightly as he straightens to look at me.

His eyes don’t hold anger.

They hold regret.

“Fight back, you fuck.”

What the hell is his problem? My fists are aching which means I landed them too well. Most fights end before they even start. One good punch and the bastards are already running or begging for mercy.

Both my fists ache, and judging from my brother’s jaw, and quickly swelling lip, I landed them rather well.

But he is neither running, nor begging for mercy.

He isn’t even fighting back.

What the fuck?

His expression is really starting to piss me off and I wind myself up for another good punch. One that will hopefully knock him out so I can drag his stupid ass out of my bedroom and maybe kick him down the stairs. That’ll be great revenge.

What happens next is something only he would know.

One second I’m throwing the punch, and the next, I’m in his arms, feeling like I’m about to die. The room is spinning like crazy, and my legs don’t belong to me anymore.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

I can hear him whisper as he hugs me.

The fucker is hugging me.

And try and I might, my body fucking refuses to cooperate. I can’t push him away, my legs are like lead and my head is just spinning like a goddamn top.

I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s too fucking long because I hear my door opening again. There are lights in the periphery of my vision. Horrid blinking lights that refuse to go away even when I close my eyes. I hear voices.

And laughter.

It’s the laughter that gives me the will to move.

I remember the laughter of those boys as they mocked me for being weak.

I’ll show them.

I shove my brother back with all my strength, and I don’t bother to stop to watch him crash against my piano, and falling over the stool in a crumpled heap. I hear shouting, and loud voices, but I don’t give a fuck.

I’m free and I can get away.

The door to freedom is but a few steps away, and I throw myself right at it. The fact that it gives easily, crashing open as I stumble through. The sweet smell of ozone is in the air.

Another storm is coming.

How fucking apt.

The forked lightning lights up the darkness and I see the final hurdle I need to overcome in order to get away and be free.

No more laughter.

No more weakness.

Jung Yunho is the master of his own destiny.

The first drops splash down on me as I leap over the railing.

I’m on my back, drowning in the pouring rain and barely able to breathe.

I want to move, but I can’t.

I want to get away from that horrid sound that is mocking me.

The laughter is wild, maniacal and utterly without restraint.

It just goes on and on and on and on.

It’s the laughter of a mad man.

And it takes me a good long while to realize the hysterical sound is coming from me.

“I can’t sleep.”

“You must.”

“I can’t…Jae…I can’t sleep.”

“Do you want me to get him? I can get him.”

“No…No, please. No, don’t get him. I hurt him…I can’t. Please, no.”

“Ok, I won’t get him then but you must sleep. I’m not taking you home till you promise me you’ll sleep.”

My eyes crack open at those words, my vision so blurry that it takes too long for me to be able to focus.

Everything is white.

“Where am I?”

“You don’t remember?”

“We can sedate him.”

A third voice, unfamiliar and my eyes are still not focused enough to be able to discern who it is that just spoke. However, the words register in my mind and I struggle to sit up, wanting no part of this. The fear is starting to filter through me, and with that fear, comes the surge of adrenaline once again as I fight my body to flee the threat.

However, before I can open my mouth, or even move, a warm hand is splayed across my chest as a harsh voice interjects.

“How many fucking times do I have to say it? You don’t give my brother any drugs without his express request accompanied by my or our father’s consent.”

“But Changmin-ssi—“

“No.” My brother’s voice is dead cold. I have never heard him so furious, yet calm. “If I find out that his grogginess right now is due to your meddling, I will lodge a complaint and have your fucking head, do you understand? I brought him here for you to look at his foot. Nothing more.”

“I didn’t give him anything!”

“See that it stays that way.”

“What’s wrong with my foot?”

Silence greets my question, and I rub my eyes as hastily as I can manage. I’m sure I’m moving slower than a fucking tortoise at this point, but what’s the moral of that story? Slow and steady wins the race?

And win it I do as I finally manage to rub my eyes back into compliance. The hand is still on my chest, and I blink in the stark whiteness of the room to see my brother’s perfect profile, his jaw is so tense and taut that it looks like he could break it from sheer will power alone. I can see half of a fat lip, his full mouth even more swollen than usual, that I know is my doing, and I follow his gaze to see the back of a man in a white coat leaving the room.

Everything is white.

I know where I am now.

“What happened to my foot?” I try again, voice raspy and scratchy that it sounds foreign to my ears. My throat hurts for some reason I cannot figure out, damn fucking sure I was as fit as a fiddle before I somehow ended up here.

He turns towards me, and I have to school my features not to show the shock as the other half of his face looks like something out of a horror movie. I have no idea what the fuck he was thinking being out in public like this, but whatever it is, my first and only thought is gratitude that I declined his invitation to get Jaejoong.

One look at my brother’s face right now and I can practically hear the terrified screams from the kid.

His face is covered in streaks of dried blood from what looks like a cut to his temple, and another to his cheekbone.

And yet, despite it all, he still looks perfect.


He smirks. Though it turns into more of a wince by the time his mouth cooperates and his jaw unlocks.

“You should see the other guy.”

I hate to say it. The sentiment is so fucking foreign within me, but I’m not a bad person. I just try to be one so people will leave me the fuck alone.

We are alone.

Just him and me.

“I’m sorry.”

The expression on his face morphs so quickly and comically at my quiet words that he winces and groans as his jaw cracks and the cut to his cheek opens up again.

“What happened?”

His jaw finally snaps close, accompanied by yet another wince as he gingerly touches his jaw, and then his cheek. He wipes away at the droplets of blood, staring at the red smearing his fingertips before he pops both fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

Jaejoong will have a fucking fit if he were here right now.

“You were hallucinating from the lack of sleep. How long have you gone without sleep?”

“Not long.”

“Really? Is that why you decided leaping over the fucking balcony was a good idea?”

I remain silent, my brain finally catching up as I remember what happened.

I don’t have details, just memory flashes.

Enough to give me a picture as to the unfortunate chain of events.

“Is my foot broken?”

“No. It’s just a sprain. They’re more worried about the possible concussion but I told them you’ve got the hardest skull in the fucking universe.”


“It takes one to know one, brother.”

“Why are you here?”

“Where else would I be?” He finally leans back, removing his hand from my chest that till that very moment, I’d forgotten was there. And the loss of that warmth is felt so acutely by me that my defenses go up so fucking fast before I can stop them.

“At school, where else? Stop pretending you care. You didn’t care then and you sure as fuck don’t give a shit now. You’re just worried Eric is going to blame you for this mess. Don’t worry. You’re still the golden child. I’m the fuck up, now get the fuck out, I can find my way home.”

I struggle to sit up, pleased with my body for cooperating. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the twinge in my right foot, but it doesn’t feel so bad.

Well, it wasn’t bad till I decided to put my weight on it as I stood up.

Talk about an undignified exit. I didn’t even have time to exclaim as my foot gives out underneath me and I fall with a thud.

“Do you want my help, now?”

“Fuck off.” I can’t even growl, it comes out like more of a groan as pain shoots up my entire leg as I try to move. “You’re a fucking liar. You said it’s just a sprain.”

“It is just a sprain, but you’re supposed to stay off your ankle for at least a week.”

I can hear the wry amusement in his voice, but I’m too tired to take issue. My body is ceasing to cooperate again, and to add to the insult, I’m in pain.


“No bike.”


“I’ve taken two weeks off. I’ll take you to school.”

“Don’t bother. Go back to your mooting competition or whatever the fuck big shot lawyer wannabes do.”

“I withdrew.”

“Whatever. I don’t care what you want to do with your life. Just get the hell out of mine.”

I test the boundaries of my other foot, pushing against it, to find that it will take my weight easily enough. The fact that he’s still in the room, watching my weakness absolutely fucking kills me, but I know my body enough to know that every single ounce of anger needs to be converted to energy to make my stupid body fucking move. I’m at that point of exhaustion where I’m operating through sheer will power alone as everything starts to shut down. I’m sure I managed to get some sleep, since there’s a gap in my memory from being taken in the ambulance and waking up in this room, but clearly my body doesn’t think it’s enough.

There has to be some way to store sleep. I fucking slept for practically half a day three days ago, and yet, I’m still as fucked as I would be having only had a couple of hours for the same period.

Difference is, I normally steal sleep every now and again while the past three days have not been kind at all. I haven’t closed my eyes for longer than a few seconds.

It takes three goes, and on the third, I finally manage to stand, only to have the goddamn fucking ground move, as the room spins wildly and I find myself for the second time that night, in my brother’s arms.

“You have to let me help you.”

“Haven’t you done enough?”

I feel, rather than hear his sigh. His warm breath ghosts across my forehead, as I try to move. Nothing is cooperating. I’m so tired, and his warmth is tempting. It’s familiar. He even smells the same.

“I can’t undo the past, Yunho and I know absolutely nothing I can say now will ever erase the fact that I failed you that day.”

“Stop talking.”

“No.” There is a hint of steel in his voice as he shifts, moving my useless body all on his own as he perches both of us on the hospital bed. He might be taller than me but I’m pretty sure I’m heavier than he is by a good ten pounds. My arm is slung around his neck, and the close proximity is making my hair stand on end in a bad way. I don’t want to touch him, and I sure as fuck don’t want him touching me.

But my body isn’t mine tonight.

It’s a fucking traitor.

Just like my family.

Well, at least I still have my voice and whatever’s left of my faculties.

“If you’re looking for absolution, you can just fuck the hell off. I’m not here to ease your guilt at turning a fucking blind eye to the bullies at that camp.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?”

“I want to be your brother.”

A weird sound breaks the silence. That crazy laughter I remember from before.


“Unless our dear father had an affair or something, I’m pretty fucking sure we’re related.”

You know what I mean.”

There it is. That slight inflection on the words that remind me of a time long gone. A tease, and maybe a taunt, but a young Jung Yunho used to be more than chuffed that he knew more than his older brothers.

“Too little, too late.”

“It’s only too late when you’re six feet under.”

“And that’s exactly where I’d rather be than sitting here with you.”


Changmin’s head whirls so fast he actually clocks me in the temple with his stupid ass jaw and the room spins yet again. Why the fuck can’t I move on my own? Maybe the doctors did give me something. Maybe that whole drama earlier was just Changmin trying to make himself look good.


Fucking liar.

I hear loud voices, but the words sound like gibberish.

“Shut up.”

The voices cease, and the peace is restored. I shake my head slightly, wincing as the room moves right along with me, but my eyes are back in focus and I can see my other brother standing before us.

He’s been crying. His face is blotchy, his nose is red and his eyes are swollen. He looks a right mess, but even so, he isn’t as bad as Changmin.

“Take it back.”

“What?” Why the fuck is he so belligerent? He looks upset but he seems more furious than sad, so why all the fucking tears?

“You don’t mean it. How can you say that?”

“Say what?”

“That you’d rather be dead than here with hyung,” his voice increases in volume as he gets more agitated. “Take it back!”

“How old are you? Four? Shut up, Micky. You’re making my head hurt.”

His face falls instantly, and just like Changmin earlier, the change in his expression is so sudden that it is a mess of several emotions that make him look peculiar as fuck, before he starts to cry again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, sniffling as he takes a step closer. “You scared us to death. Wh-wh-when I s-s-saw you j-jump over the bal-bal-bal…” he stops, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes as he takes a deep shuddering breath, exhaling slowly. He does it twice before he manages to continue, “Balcony. When you jumped over the balcony, I thought my heart stopped.”

“You’re here aren’t you? Clearly, you survived. Boo fucking hoo.”

He drops his hands, eyes filled with sadness as he stares at me.

I open my mouth to speak, but something in his eyes is stopping me. I feel like my brothers just tag-teamed me somehow and I’m fucking losing.

I hate losing.

So I glare at him instead, willing him to bend first.

“Come on,” Changmin’s voice is gentle as he finally breaks the long silence. “It’s late. Let’s go home.”

Yoochun finally breaks eye contact, looking away.

And even though technically, I probably won that staring contest, why does it feel like I just lost?


“You’re in absolutely no position to protest, Jung Yunho. You can barely move.”

“You claim to want to be my brother and yet here you are going against my wishes. Great start, hyung.” I inject as much derision as I can manage into my voice as I stare up at my oldest brother. I’m in bed, in some heinous pajama set no less, as both my brothers decide to not just strip me, but my dignity as well. I haven’t worn matching pajamas in years.

“You need to sleep.”

“And I’ll sleep just fine without you two assholes here.”

“It’ll be fun!” Micky pipes up with forced cheer as he jumps onto my bed and grabs a bolster.

He too is in some horrifying matching pajama set, and I have a sinking feeling that Changmin is going to change into something similar. My head hurts from the bouncing, but I’ll be damned if I show them any further weakness. Tonight has been a royal fuck up as far as nights go, and I’m done.

“Fun? I stand by my observation earlier. You’re not eighteen, you’re fucking four.”

“Fine, then I’m seven and you’re three, baby brother.” Changmin reaches behind his head to grab the scruff of his teeshirt and pulls it off.

He exchanges a look with Micky that I don’t miss, and lo and behold, fucking matching pajamas magically appear on my dresser.

Well, I’m sure they were there the whole time but I didn’t notice them till Micky nodded towards them.

There is a growing bruise down one side of his body. A really fucking huge bruise that I cannot stop staring at as he strips down to change into a pair of white pajamas.

Yoochun is in red and I’m in green.

Really fucking great.

“What happened to you?” The words spill out before I can stop them. Curiosity killed the cat they say. Well, I’ve got nothing more to lose tonight and I certainly don’t care about stupid cats.

Unless they’re fierce little tiger cubs like Jaejoong.

I close my eyes as my cock twitches in my pants.

Really? Just thinking about cute, pouty, Kim Jaejoong wearing a tiger outfit maybe and growling at me just made my cock twitch.

Twitch more because now the visual is even more complete when it was merely a passing thought earlier.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Do I like furries or something? I know I can be deviant but this is too much even for me.

“Are you hard?”

My eyes pop open as two pairs of narrowed eyes are zeroing in on my crotch. Unfortunately for me, jeans are probably the only thing that can hide a boner from the world.

These stupid flannel pajamas don’t have a prayer.

Somehow, someway, I manage to move, dragging a pillow from god only knows where to cover my crotch. Thanks to Jaejoong, I now know I have a fuck ton of pillows and they really do come in handy.

“Get out.”

“Did I do that?” Changmin’s voice is shaky, and my eyes lift to look at him. His face is pale and he looks both troubled, and horrified all rolled into one. It’s pretty fucking funny if I was in the mood to find shit funny. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I haven’t jerked off in days. Blame the flannel pajamas you two put me in.”

“You too?”

It’s now my turn to try and conceal my shock as Micky suddenly smiles. It’s one of his knowing smiles that the girls in school practically trip over themselves to have bestowed on them. I hate my childhood nickname even more now, because from one look alone, I now know things about my older brother I never wanted to know.


“You two really need to get laid.” Changmin finally speaks as the color returns to his cheeks, his mouth quirked into his own version of the Jung smirk we all inherited from our father, as he picks his clothes off the floor to toss them into the laundry basket sitting next to the bathroom door. “Flannel pajamas? That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh shut up, hyung. I can get laid whenever I want but these days, every time some girl gets close to me, all she wants to talk about is Yunho.”


Micky actually shoots me a glance as he spoke, eyes looking a tad guilty and I wonder why he lied.

“Oh?” Changmin’s eyebrow lifts, an affectation that we all share once again, also courtesy of our father. “Why is that?”

“He’s been going to school, didn’t you know?”

“Dad mentioned, but he didn’t add any details.” I watch in growing annoyance as my brother potters around my fucking room and starts to tidy my fucking things.

“Oh yeah, our brother here goes to school every day. He’s there from the first bell, to the last bell. I think we need to give someone an award.”

When Changmin picks up a book from the floor that I recognize as being the novel Jaejoong dropped all those days ago, I finally speak.

“Put that down and back off, hyung. Touch one more thing and I swear I’ll bloody the other half of your fucking face.”

I haven’t touched anything Jaejoong left behind. All his things are exactly where they were and how he left them. I don’t even touch the now dry towel he left in a pile on the floor.

Changmin stares at the book in his hand, eyes widening slightly as he turns the book towards the bed.

Written in a very neat, almost girlish script is a name in the top corner of the book.

Kim Jae Joong.


“Hyung, I will let you stay in this room if you put that book down exactly where you found it.”

“On the floor?”

“On the floor, in the fourth square from the balcony door, yes.”

Micky whistles long and low as I watch my perplexed oldest brother crouch down to return the book exactly where he found it.

I manage to find enough strength to lean up on my elbows, staring as he places the book on the floor.

He looks up just as I shake my head.


“Face down.”

“Fucking hell, Yunho.”

“Breathe one word, Micky, and I will make the rest of your school life a living fucking hell, do you understand me?”

“Chill out, brother mine.” He raises his hands in surrender as I turn towards him, finally satisfied that Changmin has returned the book to its rightful place. “Who would I tell anyway? No one would believe me.”

“Kim Junsu.”

“Jaejoong’s brother? Are you crazy? And have him try and pick a fight with you in some misguided attempt to protect his brother from you even though he well knows he won’t have a prayer of beating you. That Kim Junsu? He’d be the last person in the whole wide world that I’d tell.”


“Enough,” Changmin’s voice is tired as he sits on my other side and I finally notice that I’m lying in the middle of my bed. “No one is telling anyone about anything. What goes on in this room, stays in this room. You have my word.”

“And that’s supposed to reassure me?”

He turns towards me, eyes filled with a strange emotion that I cannot place. I’m good at reading people, but right now, I can’t read a damn thing.

“I would sooner stab myself than hurt you, and you know it. Deep down, you know I’m telling the truth.”

I make a non-committal sound as I drop back down onto my pillow and stare up at the ceiling. It takes seventy-seven seconds before Micky moves to stretch out on my left, and a further nineteen seconds for Changmin to mimic him on my right.

Yes, I counted.

Nine hundred and nine seconds before someone speaks.

“We’d make a good cheer squad for Viktor Krum.”

Five seconds before I burst out laughing.

And it takes just one second for both my brothers to join in.


I gave him the rest of the week.

In all honesty, I really think that’s more than generous.

And I never ever expected him to disappoint me.

But then again, he is just seventeen. Younger than me even, and clearly very determined to hold onto whatever imaginary guilt he has. I don’t want to push him, but it’s been long enough and I need to sleep for longer than ten minutes at a time. My brain is starting to actually buzz with white noise.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as to the reason why I want to see him.

It has nothing to do with the strange flutter in my belly when he crosses my mind.

And he crossed my mind a lot.

It took me two days before I realized I wasn’t sick.

I’ve tried several times to go over. I stand at the bottom of that balcony and look up, but I never make that final move to climb it.

Maybe I’m afraid of rejection.

But then again, I’ve already been rejected so what else do I have to lose?

“Do you want me to pick up your homework?”

I turn to Junsu who is looking at me with such a hopeful expression on his face. I manage a smile for him, though I’m sure it comes out like more of a grimace. My face hurts from the strain. Isn’t smiling supposed to be easy? It uses less muscles or some nonsense like that.

Whatever it is, it must have fooled Junsu because he beams at me like I’ve just bestowed a knighthood on him or something as I say yes. He is practically bouncing on his heels and I’m reminded of a puppy. It’s not a bad description for the cheerful soccer captain.

My brother.

Hyorin called earlier, asking me to give Junsu a chance. Well, she basically guilted me into it. She called to ask if I’m ready to consider a therapist and when I said no, she told me I have to share Yunho’s burden. I have to let him off the hook somewhat, and that my brother is more than willing to help protect me.

I don’t want Junsu.

But Yunho apparently doesn’t want me either.

So what choice do I have?

Hyorin had been firm. The tiger lady with the sunny smile and the will of iron tells me I can either choose to befriend Junsu, or she will make me see one of her colleagues. She tells me the only reason she isn’t playing hardball is because Junsu told her that I’ve been fine.

”I know it’s because of Yunho, but that boy has his own battle to win, Joongie. You cannot expect him to be strong enough for the two of you. Know that I am here for you and I hope you will talk to me some day.”

I don’t know what game she’s playing. One day she’s telling me I need help, and the next, she’s backing off but making me open up to Junsu as a result. I know she probably means well, but ultimately, all adults are self-serving. They claim to want what’s best for you but really, the likelihood is that they want what’s the easiest way to attain a peaceful household. All foster homes are that way. Shut the fuck up and stay out of sight.

Hyorin may be different yet, but there’s still a long way to go before I trust her.

Before I trust anyone.

Except Yunho.

I can feel the wrinkles forming in my forehead, my scowl is so deep as I push away from the counter when I hear the honking from the front door. I follow in Junsu’s footsteps out, a mere shadow of my cheerful brother, as I look to see who’s come to pick him up.

An obnoxious SUV sits idling in the driveway, and as I glare at the monster vehicle, a window rolls down and a familiar head sticks out.

“Hey, Jae!”

I nod in acknowledgement but don’t say a word as Yoochun’s welcoming smile falters around the edges as he ducks his head back in and confers with someone seated next to him in the driver’s seat. The windows are tinted black, so dark that all I can make out are indistinct shadows.

The door to the driver’s side opens and someone steps out.

My breath catches in my throat again, whether I want it to or not.

There has to be a goddamn fucking angel watching over this man I swear to god. The memory of my anger at him several days ago is still fresh in my gut but for the life of me, I cannot bring forth the bile to glare this creature away as his sunglasses glint in the bright morning sun, a simple smirk playing about his mouth.

A smirk practically identical to his brother’s.

It’s like a fucking movie reel as he pushes his sunglasses off his face and perches them on his head, as he walks slowly around the car. In jeans and a knotted shirt around his waist accessorized by a simple jacket, there is an easy elegance in the confidence in which he carries himself.

Not rough and belligerent like Yunho.

The complete opposite of Yunho in fact.

And I’m mystified.

“Jaejoong? I’m terrible sorry and I’d like to apologize again.”

I look around, a slight panic coming over me as I watch him approach. Yunho is nowhere to be found. All I can see is a watchful Jung Yoochun, looking at me closely with his features close to hopeful. My brother is clearly rubbing off on him if he’s starting to wear that useless expression too.

He is almost on the top step and I cross my arms, taking several steps back which causes him to stop.

“I’m sorry about the other day.”

“No blood, no foul.”

He surprises me with a rueful smile as he touches his cheek, and I finally focus enough on the details of his face to realize that he’s been roughed up.

Pretty badly as far as I can tell.

He has a healing cut just over his eyebrow and also on the apple of his cheek. There is a dark bruise at the back of his left jaw, and a split lip that is healing slowly.

How did I miss all that, I will never know. Blame it on the whole package. This man definitely made someone’s day when he was born.

I fiddle with the tails of my beanie as I stare at him.

“You look a mess,” I offer honestly. He really does. Now that I’ve looked past the whole package, I can see eye bags, and a deep weariness in the older man. A weariness I understand for I feel it in my soul.

“You should see the other guy.”

His smirk is making me feel warm, but only because it reminds me of Yunho. In that moment, I can absolutely see the resemblance between this adult and the boy at war with the world. The mildly fluffy thought I had disappears in an instance though, when Micky Yoochun shouts at us.

Or rather, at the man.

“Hyung! No!”

I look back and forth between the tall man and the stricken teenager in the car.

It takes me a few seconds, and when it hits, I feel like I’d been struck by lightning.

My back slams against the door as take another step back, staring up at the man.

An ugly man.

I hate him.

“Yunho. Yunho was the other guy, wasn’t he?”

His face turns solemn as he takes a step back. He doesn’t reply and I ask again.

“Was he? Was Yunho the other guy?”

“Jae! Jaejoong, it’s nothing. Yunho is ok.”

I can hear Yoochun’s voice, but I don’t look away as I feel my vision coloring. There is a red hue over everything, the touch of blood.

“Answer me!”

“What’s going on here?”

I turn towards my brother who’d just joined us, and something in my face must have scared him because he takes a step back, paling instantly.

“Make him answer me!”

“Answer what? Who?” Junsu’s teardrop eyes dart around the front porch as he tries to figure out what the threat is. This is who Hyorin wants for me to allow to protect me? This boy?

What a fucking joke.

I dismiss him when it is clear no help will be coming from that area, as I turn towards Yunho’s older brother.

A man who is supposed to protect him.

I have never had a murderous thought in my life.

At least, I’ve never acknowledged the thought, but the thoughts running through my mind right now are all tinged in red.

“Tell me!”

He takes another step back, wincing slightly. I don’t really fucking care if I burst his goddamn eardrums. I am thisclose to grabbing his shirt and pummeling the answer out of him myself.

But I’m not quite there yet.

I’m angry enough to consider it, but unable to go beyond that.

Pathetic huh? I can’t even defend Yunho. Maybe Hyorin is right. I need to try and fix myself to be anything for someone as broken or worse than I am.

And this fucker hit his own broken brother.

My feet move before I can stop them and I am eye level with the tall men as I stand on the top step.

“Did you hurt, Yunho?”

He clenches his jaw, eyes filled with what I read as remorse, and I have my answer.

I don’t wait, turning around, I push past my brother, my body recoiling from the touch but the surge of adrenaline within me is too strong for me to give in to the knee-jerk reaction to curl up and scream.

I run through the house and out the backdoor.

A crack of thunder accompanies the slamming of the door as I run across the pool terrace and across the garden to cross the boundary of our properties. It takes me less than a minute before I am climbing over the top of the railing and as I drop to my feet, a voice stops me just as I’m about to turn around.

“What took you so long, kid?”

I close my eyes, goosebumps erupting across my skin. His voice is like velvet, if velvet sounded both grumpy and happy at the same time.

That irritating suffix he attaches to the question is overlooked by me as I pivot slowly on my heel to face him.

But I’m not quite ready to open my eyes.

Another roll of thunder echoes around us, and I feel the first splashes of what feels like another downpour not unlike the one on that night we slept together.

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks at the memory, and the urge to palm my cheeks to keep the color at bay is strong, but I can’t bring myself to move. My belly is in knots all of a sudden and I feel like I’m about to be sick. I’m afraid that any movement might send me over the edge and the last thing I fucking want is to be puking my breakfast out over the railing of Yunho’s balcony.

Another crash of thunder, the storm is moving really fast and the cool sting of the rain on my cheeks is a welcome respite for my overheated skin.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not really in the mood for a soaking. A little help?”

Help? I finally open my eyes and the view I am accorded brings a pained moan deep in the back of my throat.

Yunho is topless, seated on a chair with a bandaged foot propped up on a stool in front of him.

I move before I think, and I have a strange out of body experience as I watch myself running the short distance towards him. I can see his surprised expression as I approach, everything seems to be working in slow motion.

Frame by frame.

Very fucking slowly.

I’m sure the reality is two seconds but time moves like it is two minutes.

My hands cup his jaw, before sliding down to wrap around his neck as I press our foreheads together.


I know I look bad, but the look on Jaejoong’s face makes me think I look far worse than I thought. He makes a sound like a trapped animal would make, and then he moves.

He fucking moves so fast that I have no time to react.

I can feel his breath across my lips as he whispers his plea, the rain now beating rather determinedly down on both of us as I tilt my head further back, closing my eyes to the rain.


He smells just like how I remembered him.

A touch of mint overlaid by chocolate and cinnamon.

His hands tighten around my neck and I lift my hands to find his slim waist, spanning them gently, tugging him down to sit sideways across my lap.

I don’t expect him to comply, my hands moving before my brain can figure out that I really should have fucking stopped.

It’s too late to do anything when I realize what I’ve done and as I brace myself for the rejection I expect, what I get is a weight on my thighs as he sits.

“Please…” he whispers again, his fingers playing with the hair at my nape.

My childhood nickname flits across my mind at that very moment.


I do know.

I know what he wants.

The question is, does he truly know?

“I need…” the whisper is against my mouth this time, his lips touching mine and moving with the whispered word.

I know.

He tastes as sweet as I remember.

And this time, I don’t land on my ass in the fucking cold grass.

But I do get wet.

AN: I had a lot of “hyung” feels from Changmin thanks to the TVXQ train event…and for the first time (ever?), I managed to appease BOTH my Jaejoong and my Changmin muses in one fic. Not sure how I did it, but my muses are literally beaming at me right now. I can practically see them.

wow! an update~~ will read first and edit later~~

have a safe trip author-nim~~~ ^^

wowww u updated thank you so much . I will read this now :) thanks for writing&sharing♡♥

have safe trip;)

have a safe trip !
thank you for the update,it's lovely <3

AINI.. finally how i missed this... "please" word still JJ's magic word in here huh.. LOL.. YH get wet? wet? OTL horny bastard LOLOLLL

I think I need to go and re-read this fic again.

have a safe trip.

omg. Yes! I love this fic <3

Interesting update. Now I have to go and reread the rest because I totally don't remember any of it. On another note, it's good to know that you've managed to appease both muses!

Safe travels.

Lol! Wah a reconciliation for the brothers..yay... And the ending is sweet ... So now JJ will let Yunho touch him anytime? Lucky boy! Lol!

Have a safe trip... Our deepest condolences and hugs to your friend too.

this fiction hurts the right way

LOL finally Changmin has more screen time.
Poor Yunho really can't do well without Jae. Ironically Jae is doing not too bad without Yunho. Jae has finally realize that he has found someone that he can rely on & wants to help.
Now if only we can get Yunho not to be so stubborn.

All I need... is you. Guh Yunjae feels! I really, reallyyyy love this fic. Like someone else said, it hurts in all the right ways. Can't wait for the next chapter. :) And kitten is a baby tiger cub now? :P

Oh man, this fic is so interesting. I love every single word of it.
Thank you for updating and have a safe trip.

You wrote chapter 7 on a plane with turbulence also LOL ;D

Okay, I LOVE this story! I think I need to re-read the other chapters now.^^ Changmin as the hyung is so sweet, gosh. He's trying so hard. Yoochun was barely mentioned but haha I love that smirky greaseball. And Yunho, wow, he's going a bit crazy. He's so afraid of being "weak" that he pushes everyone away... but I guess being "strong" and closed off is his way of protecting himself. He really does need them though... good thing Jae is back! I think he's the only one who can reach Yunho right now.

Thanks for the update!

Edited at 2014-03-25 06:16 pm (UTC)