Genre: AU, fluff, angst, WAFF
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 civil-unionised here
Summary: Jaejoong just wants somewhere to call home again. Living by himself is really not as great as his sisters made it out to be and he yearns to be around people again. He misses the hustle and bustle and even the crying babies that make up his parents’ household but he’s too proud and stubborn to return. He is nineteen after all and fully capable of living his own life away from his ridiculously large family. Enter a tiny little girl who captures Jaejoong’s heart in an instant and he finds himself with a family…of sorts. And for a sheltered, very well-loved boy, complicated doesn’t even begin to describe his life from the moment the tearful baby crawls into his lap looking for comfort.
AN: I have no idea how people are going to react to this... O__O
Yunho stares unseeing at the pile of papers atop a nondescript manila envelope. The documents had been delivered this morning and he’s only just gotten round to opening them. He should have burned them instead. It’s been just over a week since his initiation into the Kim family fold and in less than two weeks, it will be his nuptials, tying him forever to that loud and boisterous family. The rather prying family, where nothing seems to be sacred, led gleefully by the matriarch and the long-suffering patriarch. His second lunch fairs no better than the first, still the topic of conversation by the adults and curious glances by the children. However, they are clearly no longer afraid of him as Krystal manages to push him into the swimming pool, much to the amusement of Jaejoong who doesn’t bother hiding his appreciation of how his white teeshirt clings to his body. Of course he’s not the only one who vocalises this, with Chaerin and his younger noonas hooting at him as well.
That seems like a lifetime ago.
He feels as if his world has just stopped spinning on its axis, and come to a complete and breathless standstill, as he reads the big bold letters across the top of the page of the document in front of him.
Petition for Custody
However, before he can think any further on the subject, his thoughts dark as he plots on the end of the Chois for their audacity, the intercom buzzes and the tinny voice of his secretary announces the arrival of Jaejoong and his daughter. He acknowledges it, and hurriedly sweeps all the documents off the table into an open drawer, and schools his features. He is just in time as the door bursts open, and Jaejoong comes in with Jiyool in a push chair with a half eaten ice cream cone in his hand. His baby girl is squawking loudly, as she twists in her chair, waving both arms at Jaejoong, clearly wanting the ice cream. The blonde teenager simply giggles and takes a long lick of the cone, causing the little girl to yell her indignation. She’s talking a little more now, but her favourite word still seems to be no.
“No, no, no!”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Yunho’s mouth twitches in amusement, as he watches the beautiful boy teasing his baby girl. Jiyool has started talking quite a bit lately, no doubt thanks to the crash course in socialisation that interacting with her new cousins bring. Like all the other non-school aged Kim grandchildren, she now spends her afternoons at the Kim mansion with her new grandmother who is more than delighted to have another baby to dote on. The last week has run really smoothly by Yunho’s reckoning, Jiyool barely spending anytime at all at the creche, which is what he prefers anyway. He has never been comfortable with the creche’s staff’s inability to soothe a crying Jiyool and for his daughter’s sake, he is more than happy to swallow his pride and impose on the Kims. For a man who has spent years unable and unwilling to seek help from anyone, his heartfelt thanks to his future mother-in-law just yesterday is a milestone indeed for him.
“We need to teach her new words.”
“Oh, she knows a lot of words. She’s just being a little brat. Aren’t you, gorgeous?”
Jiyool continues to squawk, her little hands opening and closing, her eyes huge and liquid as she desperately tries to get the ice cream from the grinning boy. She’s a smart little girl and she knows a fair few words alright.
“Mama!” Jiyool bounces insistently in her chair. She knows the word, she’s heard her new cousins saying it and every time they do, they get cuddles and kisses. She wants cuddles and she wants kisses and she really wants that ice cream so she’s trying it.
Jaejoong’s jaw is on the floor, the ice cream lies melting, dripping over his fingers as he stares at the baby and then back at her father who simply quirks an eyebrow at him, his face expressionless otherwise. His gaze goes back and forth a couple of times, and clearly the baby is getting agitated at the lack of action because she starts talking loudly, still bouncing excitedly in her push chair.
“Mama, yes, yes! Mama!”
“Oh god, she is…”
And then suddenly Jaejoong is a whirlwind of movement. Somehow managing to unbuckle and scoop Jiyool out of her push chair, squealing happily as he rains kisses on her pretty face, causing her to giggle. In all that, he somehow manages to keep the ice cream cone somewhat intact though flecks of vanilla ice cream are now dotting Yunho’s desk thanks to his exuberance. It is in that moment that Yunho decides not to tell Jaejoong about the custody battle that is looming. He doesn’t want to cause the teenager any unnecessary pain, and really, this is his battle to fight. He knows he will win, but he worries about the lengths the Chois will go through to get to Jiyool, and he doesn’t want either his baby girl nor the teenager to be dragged into this.
“Did you hear that? She called me, Mama!”
Yunho finally cracks a smile, unable to defend himself against that beaming face. He pushes away from his desk as Jaejoong comes around it, unsurprised when he gets a lapful of excited teenager, and equally excited infant as she’s finally managed to get her hands on her prize. Jaejoong squirms happily, practically squealing as he dumps the baby on the table, careful to push Yunho’s laptop to the side before turning around to wrap his arms around the Jung tycoon’s neck. Yunho keeps a close eye on Jiyool whose face is wearing more of the ice cream than her mouth probably, but his baby girl seems happy enough, staring at him over the edge of the cone, eyes wide as she snuffles greedily at the melting treat, both hands wrapped tightly around the base of the cone.
Jaejoong’s brain finally catches up with his mouth, as he sits sideways on Yunho’s lap. The man isn’t looking at him, his eyes on his daughter instead and a tiny smile tugging the edges of his mouth. He nuzzles into the side of his head, Yunho’s scratchy jawline tickling his nose, as he calms his racing heart. He wants to go up to the roof and shout at the whole world about what just happened but he is a little leery as to how Yunho will react. His expression doesn’t really give much away and while Jaejoong is incredibly happy about being called Mama, he doesn’t know how Yunho feels about it. He noses his way along that diamond jawline and up along the curve of Yunho’s ear, feeling the man shiver beneath him as he breathes softly against that sensitive skin, but he says nothing. He feels Yunho’s arms tighten around him, shifting to haul him further up his lap, pulling his legs up so they are dangling over the arm rest of his ergonomic office chair. Jaejoong sighs softly, not willing to push it, and so he turns his head to watch the baby girl who is currently behaving a little oddly as she eats her ice cream.
Jiyool is nose deep in her cone when she stops, lifting both arms as if wanting to rub her head. One hand still holds the half-eaten cone and some of the melted vanilla ice cream lands in her hair. She does rub her head with both hands, before smiling brightly at her parents watching her and resuming her snuffling of her cone. Her nose and cheeks not to mention her chin are absolutely covered in white ice cream and Jaejoong can’t help but giggle at the sight. He smiles when Yunho squeezes him, and turns to press a kiss to his forehead.
As they watch, she does it again, this time with a tiny frown on her messy face, as she rubs her head and spilling more sticky melted liquid in her dark hair. Jaejoong groans in despair because he’ll have to wash her up, but Yunho chuckles as he realises what the problem might be.
“I think our baby girl is suffering from a brain freeze.”
Jaejoong hums a response, not taking his eyes off the now pouting baby girl as she dives face first yet again into the cone in her hand, only to come out for air not long after, rubbing her head and grumbling to herself in a jumble of incoherent words and sounds. He is trying to calm his racing heart again, as it starts beating a wild rhythm at Yunho’s words.
…our baby girl…
He realises that’s probably the most he’ll get out of Yunho about Jiyool’s choice of name for him, but it’s enough and he’ll take it.
“Mama, no, no, no.”
Jiyool finally gives up, offering her thoroughly decimated cone to Jaejoong who leans over to take it with a laugh, popping the entire thing into his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose as he struggles to chew the softened cone. Not satisfied with that and wanting to be comforted after that short-lived burst of pleasure she gets from the ice cream that was ruined by the pain in her head, she raises both arms and stares imploringly at her father, even as she demands.
“Why is it she calls you Mama and me, Daddy? What happened to plain old appa?”
Yunho’s voice is tinged with amusement as he scoots them forward, rolling his chair as it squeaks in protest at having to move with practically twice the weight it normally carries.
Jaejoong chuckles, carding his hand through Yunho’s hair gently, happy to bask in the wafts of scent his action releases, and using it to distract him, to stop himself from jumping up and down in Yunho’s lap because the man has acknowledged Jiyool’s claim.
“You’re far from plain, and I refer to you as daddy to her so I guess that’s where she got it from. I can start calling you appa I guess but it’s a little weird for me since that’s what I call my father.”
“No, it’s ok, I like it.”
Yunho turns to press a brief kiss to Jaejoong’s pouting mouth. Between his daughter and the teenager, he is becoming a little too susceptible to pouts. He hopes it doesn’t get out though, because it’ll be quite distracting if his next meeting is made up of pouting faces trying to get him to capitulate on a term or two of a negotiated contract, or to give up his too-stringent requirements on office policies.
“Daddy, cuddurs!” Jiyool is getting impatient as she starts flexing her hands again, just as she was earlier when she was trying to get the cone from Jaejoong. “Cuddurs! Mama!”
“We also need to introduce her to the letter L,” is Jaejoong’s rueful observation as he is pitched sideways, almost off Yunho’s lap as the man leans forward to pick up the bossy little brat. He hangs on around Yunho’s neck, giggling as he finds himself with a lapful of a very sticky little baby, who proceeds to smear her ice cream covered face on both her parents, gurgling happily when Yunho growls playfully at her. His dark shirt is now streaked, and he smells like sweet vanilla.
“I think she needs a bath. Did I ever mention how wonderfully convenient it is that home is just upstairs?”
Yunho smirks, causing Jaejoong to blush. He is a teenager and only recently introduced to the oh so wonderful world of fucking hot sex, therefore practically insatiable if not for the baby girl. He pokes Yunho in the chest in protest at his leering, but his mind is already skipping forward to later that night after Jiyool is put to bed. She still sleeps with them, but is almost always moved back to her cot every night, and then carried back in first thing in the morning. It is a good thing that Yunho usually wakes at the crack of dawn no matter what time he goes to bed, and getting up to fetch the baby girl is a lot less work compared to dealing with a fretful and highly annoyed little princess.
“I think we all need a bath actually.”
Yunho looks down at his shirt and at the almost clean face of his baby girl now tugging at the tie Jaejoong is wearing. His eyes follow her hands and he finally sees what the teenager is wearing, and his belly clenches reflexively in need. Jaejoong is wearing a simple white shirt that is extremely thin. So thin that he can see the outline of the boy’s pierced nipple and he has to swallow hard, wanting nothing more than to wrap his lips around it and tug, to revel in the sounds he knows the teenager will make when he does it. He clear his throat to distract himself, but when he looks up, Jaejoong is staring at him with unreserved longing and Yunho has to close his eyes for a short minute to gather himself. His self-control is absolutely abysmal around Jaejoong, not that he ever wants to stop from taking what the boy is offering, but there’s always a time and place and once he loses that, there will be trouble.
“Hold her,” he manages to croak out, waiting till Jaejoong has a firm hold of their baby, before he hooks his arm under the back of Jaejoong’s legs and stands up with a loud grunt. He steps forward to drop the teenager gently on the table, his gaze affectionate on the teenager whose legs are swinging as he playfully licks Jiyool’s face clean, making the baby girl squeal happily, while Yunho packs up to leave. It is almost 7pm and he is suddenly ravenous, though not for food. He wonders if they can somehow find some way to put Jiyool to sleep after her bath.
As they leave the office, his secretary stops him. He waves Jaejoong off, telling him to wait by the elevator while he stays to see what is needed from him. The message he is given though is something that kills his mood almost instantly. A lawyer, whose name he recognises as being from a firm on retainer to the Chois, has contacted his office to confirm receipt of the petition, and wanted to arrange a meeting “at the earliest convenient time, preferably before the end of the week”. Yunho’s face is perfectly blank as he acknowledges the message. The Chois don’t have a prayer of winning, Yunho will make sure of it. But what might come out in the course of this is anyone’s guess.
Yunho has no idea exactly how far the Chois are planning to push this, fully aware that they know of their only child’s depraved behaviour. Hell, they helped to cover it up. Yunho knows he has been left pretty open to an attack on his character, but he also knows that money is the Chois sole interest in life. Money and pride, and Yunho plans on using those as his leverage. However his one worry is that video. A video he hasn’t been able to find in over a decade. A video that is what binds him up so tightly, unable to report the atrocities his wife committed. He was essentially blackmailed into slavery. In retrospect, he should have just called her bluff because she had more to lose than he did at the time, but despite everything, he did love her. He loved her so much he was willing to excuse her behaviour for enough years that it made him numb.
And now he is just as deep in it with Jaejoong. Yunho doesn’t fall easily, but when he does, he falls very, very hard and what do they say about once bitten, twice shy? He has everything to lose now. Jiyool is everything, the one good thing about his marriage, and he’ll be damned if he loses her. Everything he does, is for her. Even Jaejoong started off as being for her. Opening his heart and letting the teenager in, is both for him and his daughter. He cannot lose her.
Yunho’s thoughts are completely black, and it shows on his face, even though to anyone else, he just looks the same, grim and unsmiling. His face a mask. But Jaejoong isn’t just anyone else and the teenager frowns when he sees the sudden change in the man.
He wants to ask, but something tells him not to, and he listens to his instincts. He wishes that Jiyool was still in his arms rather than in the push chair though because the coldness is rolling off Yunho in waves, and he needs something to shield himself from it. The short ride up to the top floor is fraught with tension, completely self-made by Yunho as he stares darkly at the lift doors, not even bothering to acknowledge the presence of the teenager in the tight confines of the elevator. When they reach their destination, Jaejoong has to stifle his sigh of relief as he hurriedly pushes Jiyool out, leaving Yunho and the dark cloud behind him. The intensity of the gloom that has suddenly descended upon the older man in the space of barely five minutes is so suffocating that Jaejoong and all his light shies away from it at the first instance. He needs to regroup and gather his scattered thoughts and emotions because jumping headlong into Yunho’s pool of pain will only result in more pain. How he knows this, he is not sure, but he is certain that in this case, leaving Yunho alone for now is probably for the best.
The apartment, which Jaejoong used to find overlarge after his modest studio abode, is making him claustrophobic. There is a palpable sense of doom overhanging, Yunho’s dark mood spreading its fingers and touching everything in sight. Jaejoong imagines that if moods could be seen, there would be black mist throughout their home. Even Jiyool seems to sense the tension, oddly quiet, two fingers back in her mouth as usual. Jaejoong undresses her quickly, and then strips himself down to his pants as he runs the bath. They are in the master bathroom, but for once, Jaejoong actually wishes he was anywhere but there. He can hear Yunho stalking about their bedroom, opening and shutting doors and drawers loudly as if looking for something. He doesn’t dare ask. Not yet anyway.
He looks at the baby girl, sitting in a shallow pool of water, two fingers in her mouth and gazing at him solemnly. She looks tired, and Jaejoong reckons maybe that’s why she’s so quiet, though he doesn’t dismiss the fact that her father’s mood has a direct co-relation to hers. It definitely has a direct co-relation to his. He crouches down next to the bath, the cool tiles against his warm chest, his piercing clinking against it. He starts to wash her, singing softly as they stare at each other.
Yunho can hear Jaejoong singing in the bathroom, and it brings back memories of a happier time. Music will always be the one thing completely untainted by his wife and her family, and he is strangely comforted by the fact that it seems to be a predominant part of Jaejoong’s life as well. He knows the teenager doesn’t know he plays the piano, the music room in the apartment is locked away, the door hidden behind a fake display cabinet. Why does he go to such lengths? He needed a sanctuary from his wife. The woman has never done housework in her life, and the help was all hired by him and so his secret remained safe for years. Jaejoong keeps the kitchen and bedrooms tidy, but a service still comes in once a week to clean the general area of the apartment.
He does yet another look around the bedroom, trying to find any hidden nooks or crannies that might be around, a space small enough to hide a video CD. He has no idea if Sun Ye kept up with technology and transferred it into DVD format later on, but whatever it is, he is looking for a small disk. Having gone over the bedroom twice, he almost growls his frustration at finding nothing. He will need to meticulously comb through the apartment again, though deep down he has a feeling she’s hidden it somewhere he can never get to. He doesn’t believe for a second that she’s given the video to her parents though. Sun Ye was strange like that. She uses and abuses, drunk on power, taking whatever she can out of people before moving on and she treats her parents in the same way. Sucking them dry, only they are too blind to see it, too much in love with their beautiful daughter that can do no wrong in their eyes. Oh to be that blind. So, no, Sun Ye would never relinquish that kind of power to her parents. It amused her greatly to know that she alone was the master puppeteer.
However despite this, Yunho has to be careful because even if she hadn’t given it to them, they may just stumble upon it by chance. Her entire estate and whatever she had upon her death was all bequeathed back to her parents. She didn’t even leave a single fifty won piece for their daughter, not that Yunho would have accepted it of course but for her to discard her own child like that spoke volumes.
His thoughts return to what happened in his office earlier, a grim smile upon his face as he stands by the window, staring out into the twinkling lights of Seoul down below as he unbuttons his soiled shirt and shrugs out of it. Jaejoong was more of a mother to Jiyool even before accepting the role as her nanny. He knows the teenager was expecting a remark from him earlier, but with the custody looming and all the feelings it has brought back, he finds it hard to vocalise explicitly his acceptance of it. But he knows it is true, and finds it amazing that Jiyool knows it too. Jaejoong may not be her biological parent but he is a far better parent than many Yunho has ever met. His daughter can call the teenager whatever she wants. He doesn’t think the boy needs to hear it from him though. Jaejoong is practically psychic where his intuition is concerned, and he figures this will be much the same.
He scowls out the window, angry and frustrated that even from the grave, his wife is fucking up his life. His wife and her family bedamned. Yunho will see her in hell first before he allows the Chois to take Jiyool from him. But even as he thinks that, he cannot help but blame himself for getting into this mess in the first place. So young, stupid, blind and in love. The years may have dragged, almost half his life gone, wasted on that woman, but he still cannot help but feel the shock of what Sun Ye had done reverberating through him after all this time. All the time, pre-meditated effort and calculated manipulation that it took to snare him, her parents her accomplices to most of the whole sordid affair except the most crucial part. Oh they love money alright. They love it enough to trap an innocent teenager, practically causing him to sign his soul to the devil. And his parents? Instead of protecting him, they left him for the wolves.
He is dragged from his black thoughts when a soft kiss is placed on his shoulder. He turns and finds Jaejoong standing topless as well, with a drowsy baby in his arms, holding a bottle to her mouth.
“Can you take her? I’m going to have a bath. Are you hungry? I’m not hungry, but I’ll make us something when I get out.”
Jaejoong’s eyes are as soft as his voice, careful to stay neutral and take his cues from the forbidding man standing in the dim light of the bedroom. He gazes at Yunho’s profile as he takes Jiyool carefully from his arms, keeping her bottle in place, watching as he turns to stare back out the window, and his heart aches. He knows he’s been dismissed, and for the first time since moving into the apartment, Jaejoong is actually seriously considering sleeping in the guest room. Yunho’s mood has fallen too fast and too quickly and he is just a little afraid of what that might mean. He is going to marry this man in less than two weeks and even though he knows they are right for each other, there are still so many things he doesn’t know about Yunho. Those scars on his back are a good example, as his eyes travel over the man’s back, a tiny stab to his heart at every mark. Yunho doesn’t hide them from him anymore, but he doesn’t volunteer any information about them either, and this is definitely an area where Jaejoong doesn’t want to push.
He sighs softly, and turns to head back into the bathroom. A nice long soak might help.
Yunho senses Jaejoong leaving, and he hates himself for not saying anything, but what can he say? There is too much self-loathing, regret, hate and fear going on within him, and he needs to wrangle his demons and lock them up again before he can speak to the teenager. He knows he owes him at least a glossed over explanation of his past, but every time he finds a dubious opportunity to say something, Jaejoong’s eyes, shining with love and trust stops him. It stops him because he doesn’t want to see that light fade away. He is secure in the boy’s affection to a good extent, especially after the inadvertent unveiling of the scars on his back, but Yunho is still afraid. And now that fear is compounded by the looming custody battle, and Yunho can feel himself closing off again. He is helpless to prevent it, because ultimately, he feels that it is necessary.
Jaejoong emerges from the bathroom almost two hours later. He’d spent most of his bath wondering what could have turned Yunho’s mood so quickly. While ruminating on it, he’d lost track of the time, and he hopes the older man won’t be too annoyed at eating late. He checks his phone, replying to the messages from his sisters about going shopping for suits, perching on the edge of Jiyool’s pillow fortress on his side of the bed, unsurprised to find her dead asleep. What does surprise him though is that she is still in their bedroom. He double-checks that his phone is on silent, turning off the vibrate function, before leaning over to kiss the sleeping baby, who doesn’t move at the soft caress. He then stands, pulling his bathrobe around him a little more securely and belting it, before leaving the bedroom in search of his brooding pseudo husband.
After fifteen minutes, Jaejoong is very confused. He cannot find Yunho anywhere. His cellphone is still in the apartment which means he cannot be far but Jaejoong has looked everywhere. Well, not quite everywhere because he hasn’t checked the closets.
Ten minutes later, and he is definitely perturbed. He is staring at the note on the fridge door, not really sure what to make of it.
I’m not hungry. Don’t wait up.
He’d missed it the first time round while looking for Yunho, and now that he’s seen it, it doesn’t improve his confusion at all. For one, the man would never leave his daughter alone in the house, regardless of Jaejoong being in the bathroom. He would never leave the house without telling Jaejoong and leaving a baby monitor with him. And speaking of baby monitors, one of the receivers is missing. It is a top end model, with one of those ridiculous ranges that Jaejoong reckons it’ll probably work on the ground floor of the building. However, Yunho has left without his phone and he never ever leaves the house without his phone. He’d made a crack once about the apartment being on fire, and Yunho would grab Jiyool and his phone and forget Jaejoong. He remembers Yunho’s rueful smile, and promise that he would grab Jiyool and himself, and his phone would be third. But his phone is lying on the kitchen counter.
Jaejoong wanders out into the living room, trying to figure out what to do. He cannot leave because Jiyool is asleep and her father nowhere to be found. He could take her with him of course. He’s even tried talking through the baby monitor, hoping Yunho will come back but he gets nothing. Hands deep in the pockets of his drying bathrobe, he stares out the window, trying to quieten his panicking mind. He takes a deep breath, vaguely attempting to use the meditation methods one of his noonas had tried to teach him, ostensibly to stop him bouncing around constantly. He closes his eyes, concentrating on his breathing, emptying his mind, and that is when he hears it.
His eyes pop open, his brow furrowed deeply as he stares out into the city below. His ears strain hard, but he hears nothing. Still a little puzzled, but writing it off as a possible figment of his imagination, he resumes his meditation exercise, only to stop once again when he hears the discordant sound of a hand slamming down onto piano keys.
Ok, he definitely did not imagine that sound. And where the heck would a piano be when this apartment is the only one in the entire building? He knows there are no pianos on any of the floors below him except for the one in the creche. He jerks in surprise when the sound comes again. Someone is most definitely brutalising a piano that sounds perfectly in tune. Curious and just a little anxious, Jaejoong follows the source of the sound. He thought it had come from behind him, and he walks backwards, only to be met by a large display cabinet. He cocks his head, staring at his reflection in the glass, when he notices that the case isn’t sitting straight. He blinks, wondering if he is seeing things because moving that heavy display cabinet would take two men, not to mention all the delicate china plates rattling about within it and possibly toppling off their stands. He pushes at it, not really expecting anything to happen, and is stunned when it clicks shut, the china within it not budging an inch. He steps back and stares hard at the case. It looks like it is made of solid teak, but clearly it isn’t. He tugs at it, feeling that the wood is deceptively lighter than it looks. Out of curiosity, he pulls open a door to inspect one of the plates, only to find that they are glued tight to the stands, which are in turn glued to the shelf. He flicks at a plate, and is surprised to discover that it is made of some kind of plastic, not fine bone china.
Curiouser and curiouser.
He cannot hear anything anymore, but his curiosity is piqued and he shuts the door, trying to figure out how to move the cabinet again. He heard it click shut earlier so there must be some sort of hidden latch or spring. He opens the door again and looks carefully at the display, and finds that everything is covered in a very fine layer of dust except for the plate he was fondling, and a depiction of an elephant in the corner. It is a red elephant, and really tiny, tucked away to the side, almost hidden behind yet another plastic plate. It seems out of place somewhat but the intricacy of the artwork on the tiny elephant lends itself a sense of belonging on that shelf. He reaches in, and tugs at it, squeaking when it gives in his hand, and he hears a click as the cabinet opens. And there he hears it again.
Angry music is now wafting out through the crack in the side of the cabinet. He shuts the display door quietly, and pulls at the supposedly heavy piece of furniture, and it moves easily. He holds his breath, unsure of what he might find in the secret room. As the cabinet moves, his eyes fall into a well lit room.
In the middle is a black grand piano, the lid closed, and a topless man playing it. Jaejoong is mesmerised as he sees the light sheen of sweat on Yunho’s back, as he plays almost maniacally. He recognises the piece he is playing and is entranced by the muscles in his back as they ripple with every move he makes. Mozart’s 20th Piano Concerto is reverberating around him, enveloping him, and played so much angrier than Jaejoong has ever heard it being played. The sound is so rich and vibrant, so full of passion as Yunho moves into the last third of the piece.
Jaejoong moves, stepping to the side a little so he can see Yunho’s fingers flying across the keys. He usually finds this piece a little emotionally draining because of the way it goes up and down, but the way Yunho is playing it, it is all up. There is no gentleness in the quieter sections of the piece. Yunho is playing it as if his life depended on it, fingers harsh on the keys, his body tense, the muscles bunching in his arms and across his back. So tense that he ends up making a mistake, and down comes a fist, and Jaejoong lets out a shocked gasp at the jarring sound.
Yunho freezes, looking up past the lid of the piano to the mirror opposite, and he sees the teenager, clad in nothing but a fluffy white bathrobe, standing off to the side of the door, eyes wide, his mouth twisted in dismay as he hugs himself. He continues to stare, and the boy, as if realising it, lifts his head to follow Yunho’s gaze, meeting his in the mirror. Yunho is still not rid of his anger or his fear, and he can feel his body vibrating with the need to expend all that pent up frustration. He has been playing almost non-stop for the good part of an hour and all it has done is make him sweat. Everything he plays is suffused in rage, no matter what the piece is meant to be, and he feels very close to losing it.
They continue to stare at each other. Yunho’s mind has taken flight long before he even stepped into the music room, and he is now working off instinct, emotion, and need. A desperate need to remind himself that he is no longer that helpless young man trapped in a web of deceit. That he is no longer a mere puppet of a deranged woman and her greedy family. That he has full control of his life now. He needs Jaejoong, and he will take him.
Yunho’s voice is loud, and harsh and Jaejoong feels like he should turn and run, but clearly his body as other ideas as he finds himself walking slowly towards Yunho. He finally breaks their gaze in the mirror because Yunho’s eyes are causing him to feel overly warm. There is an aura of danger emanating from the man, but instead of running, Jaejoong seems to be attracted to that whisper, that promise of violence. It reminds him of the time when Yunho had almost left the house, thinking Jaejoong had left with Jiyool or something, the lines of his body rigid and his cock heavy. Jaejoong had run away then. But he is no longer a missish virgin. His belly is in knots, but desire is pooling through him, going straight to his cock, filling it. Is this why people are attracted to bad boys? That sense of danger? Yunho’s raw masculinity is overpowering, and as he draws closer, he can smell it, and he wants a taste of it. He has absolutely no complaints about their love life so far, but he always feels like Yunho thinks he is breakable or something. He may look like a delicate flower or some other romantic and ridiculous term because of his face, but Jaejoong is still a man.
He stops next to the bench, eyes on Yunho’s back, seeing the lines of sweat, and wanting a taste. He licks his lips at the thought, his cock now full and hard. His robe is still belted tightly shut but the telltale tent is there, but he cannot bring himself to feel embarrassed. Why should he feel embarrassed? His body wants what it wants and he wants what he wants. And right now, all he wants is Yunho.
Yunho pushes back slightly from the piano, eyes on the teenager’s face before travelling down slowly, over the shapeless robe, till he reaches his groin and he almost moans in despair. A very small part of him had hoped that Jaejoong would turn and run, because he will let him go. But not now. It is far too late for that now, as he feels his erection press against the confines of his pants.
He reaches out a hand, watching dispassionately as it slips between the folds of the robe to fist Jaejoong’s cock. The boy jerks his hips forward in response, and Yunho looks up at the stunning boy who looks almost drunk on lust, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted into that perfect ‘O’ that drives Yunho absolutely insane. He tugs at the hardened flesh in his hand roughly, pulling Jaejoong forward by his cock till he is standing between his legs, causing the boy to stumble a little as he moves.
“What is this, my pet?”
Jaejoong can’t form the words, his arousal is so overwhelming that all he sees, smells and hears is Yunho. Yunho’s intoxicating musky scent, virile and so potent he can practically taste it. Yunho’s raw strength, evidenced by the tensed muscles in his upper body. Muscles that Jaejoong wants to run his tongue over, to taste. He wants to drink in the man. His higher functioning brain has beat a hasty retreat, and his reactions are base and animalistic. Pet indeed.
Yunho watches the haze clouding Jaejoong’s eyes, and he smirk is almost cruel as he lifts his free hand to pull his belt free, pulling the robe apart to expose the beautiful teenager to his hungry eyes. The boy is naked underneath, skin so pale and smooth that all Yunho wants to do is mark him. He pushes him backwards, the horrid jangle of smashed keys is loud as Jaejoong’s ass meets the piano. Neither flinch at the discordant sound, too caught up in each other. He runs a hand languidly up Jaejoong’s body, skimming lightly. The flash of metal distracts him momentarily, but all in good time. He gazes up into lust-filled doe eyes, as he curls his hand into a claw at the base of the teenager’s throat, and drags it heavily downwards, nails digging in, and that milky white skin blooms red in thick tracks.
His eyes never leave Jaejoong’s, growling his approval as the boy’s eyes roll up into his head, shuddering beneath the cruel drag of his fingernails. Jaejoong’s cock is weeping now, each slow pump bringing forth a tiny dew drop of moisture that erupts from the slit. Yunho runs his hand once again up the hard planes of the boy’s abdominal muscles, feeling them contract beneath his palm, before pinching and twisting a perky nipple harshly. The stuttered mewl that erupts from the boy is musical, and Yunho tilts his head down slightly to scoop at that moisture at the engorged head of Jaejoong’s cock with just the tip of his tongue. His eyes never leave Jaejoong’s face.
Jaejoong moans long and low, as he straightens his head to look down at Yunho. The pain in his nipple, at Yunho’s unrelenting fingertips is sending shivers wracking through his body, that cusp between pleasure and pain is so intense. His body is like a tightly coiled spring, ready to burst into action when the time comes. He feels the tickle as Yunho’s tongue teases at his slit, and the shockwave of lust that ripples through his entire body at the sight of that translucent string of moisture that almost winks in the bright light finally rips words from his throat.
The smirk Yunho levels up at him as he draws back, licking lazily at his bottom lip, cutting off that connecting string causes Jaejoong’s legs to tremble in need, as he leans back against the piano, no longer sure if he can keep himself upright. He has no idea why Yunho is affecting him so intensely. It is not so much what he is doing, because he’s done it all before. It’s the way he is doing it, and that almost primal look in his eyes and that dangerous smirk. A smirk that promises pleasure and pain and more. Jaejoong wants it all.
Yunho suddenly stands, wrapping a strong arm around Jaejoong’s waist, letting go of his cock and gripping his thigh roughly, he lifts the boy up, dropping him on the shut lid of his grand piano. He hears the thump as the teenager hits the piano hard, but he is too far gone as Jaejoong is splayed open in front of him so wantonly.
“God, Jae? I am no god.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, pushing Jaejoong’s thighs up and apart as he goes straight for the pink clenching hole that is beckoning to him. His grip is painful, as the boy jerks below him, but he doesn’t care. The light musky smell of the teenager’s arousal is like a a heavy mist dropping all around them, blocking everything out, and Yunho wants to gorge himself. He licks at the opening, chuckling darkly as it contracts as if in shyness. He licks heavily around it, feeling the ridges of the tightly puckered hole, as Jaejoong squeezes himself shut. The boy’s scent is so intoxicating and Yunho needs more. He pushes Jaejoong’s legs wider and higher, till he seat of his ass leaves the piano top and he hears Jaejoong moaning as his shoulders dig into the hard surface.
But Yunho doesn’t care as he drops his head between those parted thighs, mouth open against Jaejoong’s entrance, stiffening his tongue as he forces it through that tight ring. He hears the boy keening, bucking his hips as if trying to get away, but pressing forward still. Yunho lifts the boy’s ass to his mouth as he licks roughly, lapping loudly, saliva pooling as wet squelching sounds join in with the other sounds already echoing around the large music room. He fucks Jaejoong thoroughly with his mouth, taking everything, opening him wide to an even greater intrusion.
Jaejoong’s thrashes his head, needy sounds in his throat as he arches off the piano. The rough intrusion of Yunho’s tongue is sending so much pleasure coursing through him that he won’t be surprised if he comes right then. He struggles to control himself, not even daring to touch his copiously leaking cock as he twists and turns, trying to get away from Yunho’s punishing mouth. Yunho’s grip on him is so tight he can only move his upper body, and in one particular turn, he suddenly realises there are mirrors on either side of them. His eyes widen at the sight of his body bent almost in half, Yunho face is deep between his thighs, and the sight is so erotic, that Jaejoong loses it, coming over himself in hot spurts, decorating his body, his wailing echoing loudly around the room.
Yunho stops. Jaejoong’s climax only serves to remind him that his cock is still trapped and unfulfilled. He lowers the boy back slowly onto the flat surface, Jaejoong’s feet landing on the piano keys and filling the room with sharp discordant notes. He ignores the angry red handprints on his thighs, as he fiddles with his pants. He drops them, kicking them away in an undignified heap as he leans forward to take a heavy lick at the still-hard cock, before wrapping his mouth around it, licking and tasting the residue of Jaejoong’s pleasure.
Jaejoong jerks as Yunho’s mouth closes on his over-sensitive cock, his body twitching and jerking with each lick and suck as Yunho torments him. His body is buzzing, and he cannot hear anything, practically blind to everything. All he can do is feel, and feel he does. A probing finger plays around his saliva-wet hole, pushing in roughly, as Yunho coaxes him open. A second finger soon joins the first, and Jaejoong feels the burn, but he is too far gone in his aroused haze. Being a teenager has its perks, not to mention the fact that Jaejoong is very much still drowning in lust. Coming like that is satisfying, yet not, and he wants more. He reaches out a hand, carding it through the back of Yunho’s head before fisting it and tugging insistently.
Yunho lifts his head, pulling back and away from Jaejoong’s hand in his hair, letting his cock fall from his lips with an obscene plop. He wraps an arm around the arch of Jaejoong’s back, and hauls him forward roughly. Skin drags across veneered wood, leaving marks, but neither care. The loud sound of piano keys being pounded resonates yet again around the room, as Jaejoong is dropped against it.
He leans forward to lick at the soiled pierced nipple, cum drying around it, sucking and tugging, luxuriating in the burst of flavour in his mouth and the metallic clink against his teeth.
He tugs roughly as Jaejoong arches into him, pressing his nipple further into his mouth, silently begging for more. His hands are once again deep in Yunho’s thick hair, grasping and tugging. He is whimpering loudly, his body shaking with need as Yunho lifts up his leg, hooking it around his waist. His hand pumps his turgid cock, as his fingers once again unerringly finds his opening. He feels slickness, two fingers sliding in a little easier this time and his hips rock, swallowing them into his waiting body, clenching tightly.
Yunho growls against Jaejoong’s chest, mouth leaving the rosy and abused nipple. The teenager’s hot body clamping down on his fingers is driving him crazy and he wants it all. He pulls out, chuckling humourlessly as Jaejoong whines at the loss. Yunho lifts Jaejoong’s leg from around his waist, hooking his knee on his arm as he lines their bodies up, pressing his mouth against the boy’s as he pushes in.
Jaejoong groans in pain against Yunho’s open mouth as the swollen tip slides in relatively easily because Yunho’s cock is so slick with precum. But as Yunho pushes his full length into him, he can feel his unprepared body resisting the large intrusion. But it is futile, and tears spring into his eyes at the pain as Yunho stretches him, tearing him. He blinks away the tears, taking in shuddering gulps of air and exhaling slowly, forcing his body to open up, his chest heaving at the effort, his body shaking. Yunho doesn’t wait for him to be ready though, once fully seated, he pulls back out slowly, pushing in again. Jaejoong feels every single drag acutely, the pain at the very forefront of his mind, worst than their first coupling. He can barely breathe, his eyes open wide as he stares at Yunho’s clenched ones, and instead of pushing the man hurting him so badly away, he wraps his arms around him, holding tight.
Yunho moans against his mouth, forcing his tongue past his parted lips, and Jaejoong is grateful for the distraction. The pain is intense, but at each pass, flickers of pleasure play at the edges, as he suckles on Yunho’s tongue, taking in and filling himself up with the man’s grunts of pleasure as he plunders his body. His body that is wracked with pain, but as Yunho shifts to get better leverage, with the movement suddenly comes a burst of pleasure as he imperceptibly strokes hard and fast against and over his prostate. The flickers of pleasure slowly grow, and Jaejoong latches onto it, holding and focusing on that, ignoring the accompanying burn tearing at him as he kisses Yunho back with all the love he has to give, opening himself to both the pain and pleasure that he is given.
They are both deaf to the horribly dissonant sounds of random piano keys jangling sourly at Yunho’s every thrust. Jaejoong’s body is so tight around him, so hot and perfect. He pulls his mouth from the boy’s pliant ones, dropping his face onto his shoulder, sucking and biting at those pale collarbones that, like the rest of him, are begging to be marked. He hears Jaejoong moaning, and the sound is beautiful to his ears, as the teenager drops his head to the side, allowing Yunho further access to that long white column of his neck.
Jaejoong has never considered himself to be one of those able to get pleasure through pain, but with each thrust, his pleasure grows infinitely more, and his softening cock from the initial joining is now back in its full glory and aching for release once again. He licks and sucks at whatever expanse of flesh he can get his mouth to, as Yunho sucks against his throat. The salty taste of Yunho’s sweat is an aphrodisiac to the teenager, and he laps at the man’s shoulders eagerly, his tongue collecting everything he can. His back hurts, as Yunho pushes harder into him, into the unyielding frame of the grand piano, but he holds on tight for the ride of his life as the older man plunges into him almost brutally.
Yunho’s hips snap forward, harder and faster, the slap of skin against skin joining in the cacophonous sounds from multiple sources, echoing around the room. Jaejoong is vocal, so close to orgasm again, and he is loud in his need as he claws at Yunho’s back, head thrown back, his body bouncing and banging against the piano. The riotous sound of discordant keys floods the room, and in all that noise, a hoarsely shouted name echoes as Jaejoong comes violently between them, screaming Yunho’s name.
Jaejoong’s hot passage becomes infinitely tighter, as his climax washes through him, pulling and pulsating around Yunho’s cock, and the man is unable to resist the force of it, grunting loudly as he pours his seed into the boy’s clenching body for the first time ever.
They stay like that for several minutes, both unable to move, their breathing is harsh and loud in the sudden silence of the room. Yunho moves first, pulling out, Jaejoong stifling a moan as his body burns. The pleasure was definitely worth the pain, but he is not sure if he’ll be able to walk without that infamous limp tomorrow. He manages a wan smile for his lover, holding onto a sweat slick bicep as he drops both feet to the ground, wincing as the jarred piano keys grate on his ears as he moves. His body is aching terribly but he is thoroughly sated and suddenly very sleepy. He oddly wants to thank Yunho for not treating him like a porcelain doll as he is wont to do, but one look at the man’s face, and he figures maybe he’ll thank him when he comes to bed. He tilts his head up, pressing a soft kiss against an uncooperative mouth before pulling the robe back around him, using the tail of the belt to wipe at the cum on Yunho’s chest, before securing the belt around him, and leaving the room. His gait is stiff and pain-filled but he is happy as he feels the slick slide of cum trickling down his thigh.
Yunho’s thoughts are a jumble. He vaguely notices Jaejoong leave, but his mind is a cloudy haze and he sits down heavily on the piano bench, blinking away the fog. He sits there for awhile, his breath slowly evening out as he stares blindly at the piano keys. He stares and he stares, till his vision suddenly clears and he actually sees the piano keys. Ivory and ebony keys. Ivory white keys that have flecks of red on them.
What has he done?
The pain is crippling as he feels as if someone has suddenly taken a bat to his gut, as he hunches over in horror and remorse, choking on it. He mind whirls, trying to remember if Jaejoong tried to fight him off. He doesn’t recall any of that but he does remember the boy screaming.
Screaming his name.
“Oh my god…”
Yunho drops his head between his hands, fisting his hands in his hair. He cannot have done it. He cannot. He loves the boy too much, he cannot have done this. But the proof is there on the ivory keys of his grand piano. He recalls how much tighter Jaejoong’s body was around him, and he now knows why. How could he have done this?
The low moan of pain that comes from him is unrecognisable as a human sound, as he staggers to his feet. He walks naked out the door, securing it behind him before heading to the guest room. He washes himself off in the attached bathroom, staring dully at his reflection as he cleans the seed and traces of blood off his limp cock. And as he climbs between the dusty sheets, too caught up in the pain he feels and the pain he has inflicted on the teenager to face the boy, he wonders how much more he can lose before he breaks completely.
The nightmares come back that night.
AN1: The whole pouting and Yunho hoping no one realises his susceptibility to them at work is actually me. Basically, I hope any opposing counsel I encounter doesn’t realise my weakness for DBSK because one photo can make me lose my train of thought in a heartbeat, especially if I’m not expecting it and therefore the necessary blocks and compartmentalizations in my head are not in place. Imagine if they put up a lifesize poster of Yunho in court? I would die…
AN2: Btw, the plot from here on was set in stone before I even wrote the first chapter. I have almost 2,000 words of notes made on this fic before I even started writing it which (if you know me) is completely unheard of because I tend to write with a very loose idea (basically I know how a fic ends) and not like this. My writing is usually a journey to the end that I envisioned lol. However Jaejoong has derailed this somewhat and thus I am stuck with a fic title that is not 100% relevant to the fic anymore… One major aspect of the fic got changed thanks to him, but it worked out, and because of that change, all the fluff became necessary. It’s not pointless ;-)
AN3: I died… There will be no more chapters because I am a ghost and ghosts are not corporeal enough to type.