beeswaxing (beeswaxing) wrote,

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Ice [2]

Title: Ice
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG-13
Length: Chaptered
Genre: AU, fluff, romance
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: Yunho knows ice very well. He is the youngest team captain in the history of the best professional hockey team in South Korea, bringing his teammates to glory time and time again. But a little something has been missing lately, a spark that everyone has grown to recognise from the young man. His teammates know exactly what’s wrong but he refuses to acknowledge it. Jaejoong is much too young to be this cynical and jaded. At least, that’s what his parents say, but what do they know? They love their only son and only want him to be happy despite not agreeing with his rock star lifestyle. When the 29 year old finds himself in rehab after a sort of accidental overdose, his tearful parents give him an ultimatum. Now he has to figure out what to do with the ball of ice that is his heart…

AN1: I’ve got some bad news and less bad news… Main bad news is that my husband’s grandfather had a heart attack so my camping trip has been canned, which means I’m not leaving civilisation. The lesser bad news is that we’re gonna go stay with the grandparents instead and they don’t have internet. However, I’m not sure when we’re going and I’m sure I can find an internet cafe somewhere since they live in a tourist town. But yeah… please keep his grandfather in your thoughts ;; It wasn’t a major heart attack and it happened yesterday and we only got told today so clearly it wasn’t that bad but still… :-/

AN2: This banner was done by taigrin 

“Dad, please tell me you’re kidding.”

Coach Kim looks at his only child. He is well used to the man’s make up now, even though every now again he feels a slight pang that they will probably never have grandchildren. To be fair, Jaejoong has come to their home straight after a photoshoot and hasn’t bothered to take the make up off. The heavily handed use of eyeliner makes him sloe-eyed, and even more beautiful than usual. He sighs, admitting to himself that he is glad Jaejoong had been a boy and not a girl because the entertainment industry is far more brutal on females, especially in the society they live in. While he doesn’t agree with certain aspects of Jaejoong’s choices, he would rather be supportive than lose the young man forever. His wife, previously extremely vocal about their son’s choice of lifestyle has had a horrid awakening in the last month or so and is now Jaejoong’s loudest advocate for whatever he wants to do.

As long as no drugs are involved.

The two weeks in rehab had been the worst, and he has a feeling Jaejoong is more than a little affected by the incident. Shaken, in fact. He refuses to believe that his only child had willingly mixed that many prescription medications with alcohol and then proceeded to pass out in a semi full tub half naked. For the first time, he is thankful to his son’s crazy groupies.

However, enough is enough. His son has hardened in the last 15 years, taken at a young age to be part of a pop idol group that disbanded after five years, he has spent the last seven years being a hedonistic rock icon instead. All he wants is to get even a glimpse of the doe eyed teenager his son used to be. Full and fresh with ambition, at peace with both himself and the world. He knows that boy is still in there somewhere, hidden under the layers of sarcasm and cynicism of the man standing before him right now. He believes some tough love will draw that boy out somehow. At least, that’s the plan in theory.

The only reason they are even attempting this is because his son, despite everything, never fails to come home at least once a week in the last five years, when he was finally successful enough to dictate his own terms and his own schedules instead of being at the mercy of cruel and unrelenting managers and opportunistic companies. The only time he has not, had been during his stint in rehab.

If Jaejoong had ceased to care, he would have washed his hands off of them too. But his son is fiercely protective of them, so much so that barely anyone knows of his full name. He had his name legally changed when he first debuted, and even now, everyone knows him only as Hero Jaejoong. It would take a lot of really deep digging and expensive lawyers to unearth the fact that Hero Jaejoong was born as Kim Jaejoong, son of an ice hockey coach who had only come to to the attention of the media in the last six years due to his current appointment as the head coach of Anyang Halla, the most dynamic team in the AL.

The best team in the AL in fact.

The best team since he had seen Jung Yunho playing for his varsity team and he had recruited him immediately, seeing raw, natural talent in the boy.

And really, this team he has would be breaking records had it not been for his team captain’s rather unfortunate luck in love. He had considered a dating ban, but clearly dating itself isn’t a problem. His captain plays his best while dating, and who is he to get in the way of that? In all honesty, he personally believes Jung Yunho is one hell of a catch. Handsome, engaging, intelligent, not to mention rich, the young man had it all.

But perhaps it is that whole “nice guys finish last” thing because he has seen the man through four break ups, and while the break ups itself were relatively un-melodramatic apart from the second where Kangin had beaten Seunghyun to a bloody pulp. The only reason the man hadn’t pressed charges is because Yunho’s teammates had something on him that he clearly didn’t want to be made known. What it was, is anyone’s guess, but Kangin got away scot free for breaking the man’s face.

He reckons Seunghyun got lucky, because had it been Han Geng, he is sure the man would be dead by now.


Coach Kim is broken from his reverie by irate eyes. Eyes he doesn’t recognise as Jaejoong is wearing circle lenses. He takes in the smooth porcelain skin of the man before him, a nose that has seen enough nose jobs that he barely remembers what it originally looked like. All he knows is that his son was born perfect, and he will never forgive Jaejoong’s first entertainment company for making him think he needed to change anything. Thankfully, that is the extent of the plastic surgery, recognising the shape, if not the colour of his wife’s eyes in his son, not to mention her mouth and cheekbones.

Perhaps the nose is his fault, and he touches his self-consciously as his son huffs at him again.

“Appa! What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Joongie. Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about telling me that this is all a big joke, right? That you’re not serious about disowning me?”

Mrs Kim, who has been staring at her barely touched bowl of food looks up sharply to look at her angry son.

“We are not disowning you! Don’t speak like that.”

Jaejoong turns to his mother, eyes flashing angrily, throwing his chopsticks onto the table in disgust as he pushes back from the table, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at her.

“Excuse me if I misinterpreted, Joongie, get yourself a partner. A husband or a wife and settle down, otherwise you will not be welcome in this house again. Exactly which part of that was I misunderstanding? You basically want me married to some stupid delusional fan more than likely just so I can be welcome in the home I grew up in? Tell me, which part of that am I not getting?”

“Don’t speak to you mother that way. Apologise now.” Coach Kim’s voice is hard, his son is going too far. Yes, perhaps they have pushed him a little. Ok, maybe a lot, but Jaejoong cannot continue in this manner any longer. A different bed mate every night? Well, at least that’s what the tabloids claim. He has no desire to ask his son for the truth just in case he confirms that it is true. They need to dredge that boy they raised so carefully up from within that leather clad monstrosity seated opposite them right now, bristling in indignant fury.

“Sorry,” Jaejoong spits out, but clearly the sentiment is lacking behind the word, but both Coach Kim and Mrs Kim let is slide.

“We want you to find someone. You will be thirty next month, and we think it’s about time you settled down.”

“Don’t you think I should have a say in this?”

“You had over ten years since you reached adulthood to bring us someone suitable, whether male or female, we no longer care, but you haven’t. Tell me, have you ever been in love? Seriously in love, head over heels, your heart beats faster, your palms sweat and you cannot help but smile every time you see him or her, in love.”

Jaejoong eyes both his parents as if they’ve grown extra heads. His mouth is working, but no sound is coming out because honestly, what his father has just described sounds absolutely ridiculous. There is no love for a rock star like him. None at all. People either want him for his looks, his money or his fame, or all of the above. They don’t give a fuck about him. No on knows his mother is a housewife, and his father the coach of some ice hockey team. Hell, even he doesn’t know exactly what his father does. It’s easier that way. He cannot get too attached because every time he does, something always gets in the way.

He remembers when his father had had to give up his own ambitions of being a pro ice hockey player because of him. Back then, the sport was barely recognised in South Korea, and it certainly wouldn’t pay the bills. Jaejoong grew up in an ice rink, and had his own bright eyed hope to be a figure skater one day. His parents had encouraged it till the entertainment scout came knocking. He sneers bitterly at the memory. He misses skating and he knows he can probably still skate figure eights around most people. All that changed when he was scouted by that entertainment company who had practically bled his family dry with “training fees”.

“That sounds like a fucking fairytale.”

“Fairy tales exist, Jaejoong.”

“Not for me it doesn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Jaejoong stares at his parents, blinking carefully because he suddenly feels like his eyeballs are overly warm. The telltale prick because he just wants to run. He is tired of the whole thing. Of his life, of the sycophants that surround him, of the so-called friends who would be more than happy to stab him in the back at the earliest opportunity. His path is a lonely one. So lonely in fact that he had wanted to sleep away the rest of it. He had called his parents that night of the overdose, half drunk, but coherent enough to say goodbye though it wasn’t obvious. He had told his mother that he wanted to sleep. What he forgot to add was that he wanted to sleep forever. She had sung to him then, and old love song, a sweet lullaby as he drowsed, and his final thought had been of despair that he will never know such a love.

And now even his parents are abandoning him.

At the time where he needs them the most.

What the fuck is this?

To his horror, he feels the hot tears spill out. He pushes his chair back to run away yet again, but his parents get there first. For a couple in their early 50s, they can sure move fast. He suddenly finds himself in the firm embrace of his mother and father. He is an inch shorter than his father, and half a foot taller than his mother, but somehow, the Kim sandwich works. He struggles to get away, but their arms tighten instead. He can’t even open his mouth to rant and rail at them because he is just sobbing so hard.

Jaejoong gives in, slumping against his father as he cries his heartbreak out. No one ever gets to see him like this. Not even his parents, but he is so tired. The last month has sapped whatever remaining strength he has, and the photoshoot today will be his last before going on a six month hiatus. The agency believes it for the best, though deep down, Jaejoong knows they probably want to distance themselves from any potential liability his actions might bring. He has grown so unpredictable that there are times when even he has no idea what he will do next.

His parents are right.

He needs stability.

But why does it have to come in the form of a partner?

He has met more than his fair share of toads and frogs, both male and female. And the idea of sharing his life with someone honestly makes him cringe. Yes, he is lonely, but he can somehow live with it.


Opening himself up to the potential heartache is an even worse thought. He hates feeling vulnerable. He hates depending on someone else. In this restless world, the only person anyone can depend on is yourself. At least then if it fails, you only have yourself to blame.

But then again no man is an island.

How many lamenting rock ballads has he sung about a love lost or of heartache? All his songs have love as a theme, but it is always of an unhappy love.

Someone asked him once if he had been hurt before, and he had given the man such a look that the MC had actually stuttered out an apology before Jaejoong had let out a forced laugh because his manager had been waving madly at him from behind the camera.


He’s been plenty hurt before.

But not really in the way anyone imagines.

It is a daily sort of hurt.

The little twinge when someone constantly criticises you without a single word of praise even when he has done well.

The tiny prick of pain when he eavesdrops on a conversation about how sorry the coordi noonas are that he is male instead of female because he is so nymphlike.

The self-conscious prickle across his skin when people say his eyes are too large, his lips too fat, his jawline too sharp, his nose too aquiline.

The stab of hurt when he reads comments about how cold he is to everyone when all he really is, is just painfully shy.

The crippling sense of loss when the members of his group, those he thought were his brothers because they shared his misery, abandoned him for greener pastures, claiming that he was holding them back. That he didn’t fit with their “macho” image.

The overwhelming feeling of suffocation when the body lying next to him tells him what a good fuck he is, with stars in their eyes instead of hearts, edged by a gleam of triumph of being able to bed him.

The searing knowledge that he will never ever be able to trust anyone because everyone is also after something. There is always a price and everyone has a number at which they can be bought.

The despair he feels when no matter what he does, when he pours his soul into the lyrics and composition of a song, only to have the entire world and their grandmother tear it apart and assume things about it that he never intended, because he truly feels no one will ever understand him.

That is pain.

“Can I move back home?”

Coach Kim hears the soft plea, and his heart breaks for his only child. If he could shield Jaejoong from the horrid world he seems to live in, he would.

He nudges his son’s chin up from his shoulder, and he sees the young boy who used to laugh happily when he manages a triple axle. That little boy is sad now, at his lowest, but under the smeared makeup and behind the circle lenses, he can see that boy again.

“Of course,” his wife speaks up before he is able to answer.

“But we still want you to try and find someone, Joongie.”

He sees Jaejoong’s brow furrow briefly, as he blinks away the tears still sitting in his filled eyes.

“I just need you.”

“We’re not enough, Jaejoong. Trust us, please? You don’t have to get married or anything. Just give someone a try.”

Jaejoong sighs, too exhausted to argue as he drops his forehead back against his father’s shoulder. He is really too old for this.

“It kinda sounds like you already have someone in mind.” His tone is resigned, rubbing his face tiredly on his father’s shirt, not caring that his makeup is getting over everything.

Mrs Kim lifts her head from Jaejoong’s back and exchanges looks with her husband, before nodding, and mouthing silently for him to speak.

“We…uh…we signed you up for something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we wanted you to find someone who would like you for yourself and not that you’re Hero Jaejoong.”

A soft feminine voice speaks up behind Jaejoong, continuing on. “And the only way to do it would be through online dating.”

Jaejoong lifts his head up, shrugging off his mother from behind him as he lets go of his father and steps back from both of them so he can stare at them.


“We…uh…we signed you up to an online dating website.”

Jaejoong’s lashes flutter as he blinks rapidly. One of his fake peacock eyelashes is dangling on strangely and it’s irritating his eye but he doesn’t care as he keeps blinking. Maybe blinking will help with his hearing because he doesn’t think he actually heard right.

“You what?”

“Don’t worry,” Mrs Kim interjects hastily, “we used an old photo and you were wearing shades with that dark blonde hair. You haven’t been blonde in so long I doubt anyone remembers. And you were only blonde for maybe a month or so if I remember rightly.”

“And we also signed you up as Kim Jaejoong.”

Jaejoong turns abruptly, walking back to the dining table where he drags out the heavy wooden chair, ignoring the squeak across the floor and the cringe on his parents’ faces as they too slowly join him at the table. He sits down heavily, staring at his untouched bowl of food, before picking up his chopsticks and poking at the bowl of rice. He sees his parents sit down quietly, but he ignores them, his mind racing.

It really isn’t that bad of an idea.

But is he really Kim Jaejoong? He can barely remember what it means to be that man.

No, that boy. He was still a boy when he lost the right to that name.

But what if the man or woman wants to meet him? What then?

“What does my profile say? What type have you written out?”

Coach Kim and his wife exchange relieved glances. Jaejoong’s tone isn’t angry, it isn’t quite empty either. They can hear a mild tone of curiosity within it as they watch their son eat his dinner slowly. He looks like a bit of a nightmare, with mascara running down his cheeks, eyeshadow and liner smudged so badly he looks like someone punched him. They can see the true colour of his skin underneath the layers of bb cream, and Mrs Kim has to hide a smile when she sees her beautiful boy’s pretty moles. For some reason, the makeup girls always want to cover them up, but she thinks their perceived imperfections of his is what actually makes her son perfect.

Once again, Mrs Kim nods towards her husband to answer. It was he who actually listed out the criteria, and she has a feeling he is actually describing someone he knows. But then she has absolutely no problem with what he has put on their son’s profile so she lets him get away with it.

“Male or female, aged 20-30.”

Jaejoong looks up immediately, his features softening as he stares back and forth at his parents.

“You really put male down?” His voice is wistful, lips tugging into the semblance of a smile as the solid ball of ice that is his heart cracks slightly as he finally reads acceptance from his parents.

Mrs Kim smiles, trying to hold back the tears, wishing desperately she had been accepting much earlier, and that it hadn’t taken her son almost dying for her to give up her dream of bouncing a grandchild on her knee.

“We love you, Joongie.”

Jaejoong turns his still somewhat apprehensive eyes on his mother, and his shoulders relax when he sees that she is speaking the truth.

Coach Kim clears the frog in his throat as he coughs, before continuing on.

“Fit and enjoys being active and adventurous.”

Active and adventurous, dad?” Jaejoong’s eyebrow arches, and he cannot help the automatic smirk.

Coach Kim shakes his head at his son, rolling his eyes as his wife starts to giggle. Jaejoong gets his rather inappropriate sense of humour from her. It is remarkable how alike the two of them really are, and that is yet another reason why he hasn’t abandoned hope.

“Joongie, behave.” Mrs Kim manages to get out, but she cannot hide the grin as her son sends her an identical one, his smile actually reaching his eyes this time.

“Anyway, um, what else was there? Oh, must have a stable source of income and independent. Must be self-sufficient and live away from home. Must be into volunteer work and charities. Must be dutiful to parents and love children. Must be tall, at least 5”10. Must be—”

“Dad,” Jaejoong interrupts, his brow furrowing. “It might just be my imagination, but your criteria sounds remarkably as if it would suit a man more than a woman. I don’t know many single women who live away from home or are that tall for that matter.”

“Uh…” Coach Kim shifts in his seat as both his son and wife turn towards him. His wife has her head cocked, a questioning look on her face, as if sensing something, while his son is just a tad confused.

“Finish the list.” Mrs Kim tells her husband, her mind whirling. Jaejoong is right, now that he’s mentioned it. How she didn’t notice it before, she isn’t sure but he’s definitely right.

“Must, uh, must like reading and sports.”

“Sports?” Jaejoong utters incredulously.

“Sports?” Mrs Kim echoes, now convinced his husband meant for anyone answering the description to be male.

“What’s wrong with sports?”

“I hate sports.”

“Well, that’s in your profile. You hate sports but he likes sports.”


He almost face palms himself as twin voices bounce off him, one feminine one with disbelief underlying it and one masculine, and his voice is the very essence of surprise.

“It! I meant it!”

“It? Jonghyun, what are you doing?” Mrs Kim shakes her head at her husband. His transparent attempts are getting a clearer to her.

“You already have a hit.”

“A hit?”

“Someone who matches your criteria.”

“You mean your criteria?”

“Does it matter?”

“What am I even going to say to this person? I hate sports. And why was there only one hit? Your description could fit half the tall men in this country and maybe even some Amazonian woman.”

“Well, the whole point about it is for their criteria to match your profile as well, and we were as honest as possible about your profile.”

“Except for one thing.” Mrs Kim glares at her husband before turning to her son.

“What was it?”

“We weren’t sure if you were a top or bottom so we said both.”

“Oh dear god…”


Jaejoong is glad to see the end of dinner. He wanted to crawl under the table and die. Your parents knowing you’re bisexual is one thing, the fact that they also know that you prefer men if given a choice is yet another thing.

But to discuss being a top or bottom at the dinner table is surely pushing the boundaries of parent-son relationships.

He practically inhaled the rest of his meal in the awkward silence that had descended the table after his mother’s rather matter of fact statement, and even now he still cringes at the words coming out of her mouth.

Is moving home really the best thing?

He strips his clothes off, taking a quick shower as he ponders it.

He needs some normality in his life, away from the superficiality of the entertainment industry.

He is on hiatus anyway, so he can live wherever he wants.

He is very good at going incognito so that won’t be a problem. Hell, he’s even taken public transport multiple times with no one the wiser. Anyang City is smaller than Seoul but he is sure he can meld into the population. And if anything comes up, Seoul is only a few minutes drive away.

By the time he is dry, he is certain that it is the right course of action. He will definitely need to have a small music room set up in the empty room between his and his parent’s bedroom down the hall because if he can’t play, he might go crazy.

He doesn’t bother with clothes, hanging his towel up behind the door, before taking a last look at his face. He definitely doesn’t look his age, and it is both a blessing and a curse. He shrugs at his reflection before heading out to check the door, jiggling to make sure it is definitely locked, before hopping into bed. It is the middle of winter, but the house is toasty warm thanks to the sophisticated heating system he had paid for despite his parents’ protests.

Jaejoong powers up his laptop, settling back against the headboard. He is just a little curious as to what his parents have written for him as his profile, and after procuring the login details from them earlier, in the still awkward atmosphere, he is now entering it into the DreamDate portal site.

He sees the little heart icon indicating he has a match, and the inbox sign is also lighted up with the number 1, but the first thing he does is change the password. Bad enough his parents have done this without them snooping on his matches as well.

Jaejoong peruses his profile quickly, nodding as he reads, realising that his parents have definitely gotten it right. He smiles a little at that, strangely pleased about the fact. He then moves to click on the little heart icon. The top of the page is an obnoxiously flashing sign gleefully stating that they are a 90% match.


He runs his eyes down the profile, to the photo of a clearly tall and rather well built man in a basketball outfit. He has a cap and sunglasses on, and so his face is mostly hidden but Jaejoong is very interested in the strong lines of his jaw and neck, not to mention that mouth.

God, what a mouth.

He swallows heavily, aware of the familiar tug low in his belly. He hasn’t had sex in over a month, and he is definitely feeling it. His eyes take in the breadth of the man’s shoulders, unconsciously licking his full lips before sucking the bottom one in and chewing on it.

The loud chime of an alert startles him from his perusal and he sees the inbox icon light up with the number 2 over it. He clicks on it, deleting the first message immediately because it is just the standard welcome email. But the next one, the one that had just come in, simply has “Hi” as the subject.

His belly rolls pleasantly as he moves the cursor over the word to click on it.


So…uh…this is a little awkward. I’m not sure how anyone goes about with these things. I’ll be honest though and admit that my friends suckered me into this and now that I have this page open in front of me, I don’t actually know what to say. I asked them and they made all sorts of awfully lewd comments so I think I won’t take their “advice”. Don’t think too badly of them though, they do mean well.

Um…so, I guess you already know my name. I don’t know about how much detail you actually want to share. I’m not too comfortable telling a stranger about my life and really, all I have of you is a name and a sorta blurry photograph. You look way younger than 29 though I have to say. Mother Nature has been kind to you! As for me, I definitely look my age. That photo was taken a couple of weeks ago. I’m not sure why your profile says that you hate sports and yet you want someone sporty but I guess that’s me.

I’ve rambled enough! You probably think I’m weird now. Heck, I think I’m weird /o\


Jaejoong can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. He goes back to the man’s profile and is unsurprised to see that he is only 23. He had missed that fact earlier while staring at his photo. He clicks reply.

Hi… ^^

First of all, I don’t want to delude you into thinking that photo is recent. I’m in the same situation as you yet it’s even worse. My parents put me up to this and that was the only photo they could find. However, I can say that apart from hair colour, I haven’t actually changed all that much. Maybe a little leaner and less baby fat but that’s about it.

And wow you’re young. Is the age gap weird for you? I’m used to seeing younger people so it doesn’t bother me but I just thought I’d ask. I’m actually really shy and private so I’m fine with us not sharing too much specific details about our occupations and stuff. To be honest, I don’t even want to know which city you’re from. Not yet anyway.

Is this ok with you? I don’t know much about online dating but the emphasis seems to be on the “online” part.


He clicks send before he changes his mind and deletes the message along with his profile. What stays his hand though is how attractive the other man is and how cutely awkward his message had been. He wishes he could see his face, but he has no doubt the top half of his face is as attractive as the rest of him. Heck, the man could be bald and he would probably still find him attractive.

Good one, dad.

The chime sounds again, and he smiles. He is smiling a lot tonight. He cannot remember smiling this much in so long. He settles back against the soft pillows, sinking low and propping the laptop up on his upraised knees.

Oh wow you’re online. I honestly did not expect a response. I figure half of these things are actually just creepy people looking for a quick fuck.

Was that too honest? Sorry, it’s a bit of an occupational hazard. Sports involves a lot of trash talking. Well, I guess that wasn’t really it but I do apologise.

Uh, I’m not looking for anything btw! Just so you know. Chatting is fine. I like chatting in real life so I guess I should like it online too. And I guess that’s what online dating is about? I find it a little free-ing actually. I can sit here in my underwear and talk to you without feeling self-conscious.

I’m not in my underwear! I promise!

Wow, I really need a manual or something for online dating. I think I might just have scared you off…. :(

Jaejoong laughs even louder than he did earlier upon reading this response. This boy is so precious. He has this insane urge to tease. He enjoys the banter he has with his parents, able to be himself properly without the giant invisible fortress he surrounds himself with daily. Yunho is right. It is free-ing, but in a different way.

I don’t scare off that easily ;-) I’m made of much stronger stuff, trust me. And besides, I’ve got one up on you anyway if you’re indeed in your underwear because I’m naked in my bed ^^

And now it’s my turn to scare you off :P Though I do hope you don’t run because like chatting with you. This online dating thing is starting off on the right note as far as I’m concerned.

Yunho gulps as he stares at the response he has just read. He clicks over back to the man’s profile page, and prays fervently that he is not being played because even if the photo is old, the man in it is attractive. That pouty mouth is really unique, and he is sure he has seen it before. He has a photographic memory but it requires him to consciously want to remember something. If he sees something in passing, he will probably recall it later if necessary, but it may take awhile to remember from when and where and in what context.

But even if he has seen that mouth, what are the chances of it belonging to the same person? South Korea is the land of plastic surgery. Heck, he’s had his nose and teeth done, mainly out of necessity because of his sport. So that pout could very well belong to several people with the same surgeon.

He is a little surprised to find his palms sweaty. He is nervous, and that is usually a very good sign that he likes someone. Yunho shakes his head as he leans back against his bed and bangs the back of his head against the wall.

“Yah… you idiot. Why do you always fall so fast?”

Jaejoong sits and stares, waiting, willing the laptop to chime and the inbox icon to light up. When five minutes pass and it doesn’t, he sighs. The man did say he thought people used it for hook ups and what on earth was that he just sent if not something vaguely hook-uppish?

As he is about to close the laptop, a little disgusted with himself for ruining this so early even though deep down he is unsurprised since he seems very good at naturally ruining things anyway, the familiar chime sends him scrambling.

Wow, ok. I’m sorry for the late response. I’m feeling a little self-conscious now. I really am clothed, but I’m just wearing basketball shorts, and I’m in bed too. I’m not sure what you want, but I think we just skipped a few steps ahead in this online dating business.

Not that I have a manual! Do you think I should get one? I don’t really want to screw this up and you’re a lot older so I guess you’re more sophisticated than I am and used to bantering suggestively. I know how to do it too but for some reason I’m feeling oddly shy.

Don’t ask why…

How about we talk about music? That seems like a safe topic… :O

Jaejoong smiles as he starts to type.

It is almost 2am when they both realise they’d been exchanging emails for a good four hours.

Jaejoong cannot remember the last time he spoke to anyone for more than 10 minutes, let along for four hours. Admittedly, there is quite a bit of lapse because of the typing of emails, but he really just genuinely had an actual conversation with another person who doesn’t give a fuck about what he does, simply talking about their likes and dislikes, with a little flirting here and there.

He reads Yunho’s final message again, a tiny smile playing about his lips.

I hate to do this, but I have to go. I just saw the time and I have practice in four hours and I’m probably going to be running around blind that early with this little sleep. My teammates already think I’m losing my edge and if I run into a wall tomorrow, they will have proof that I am now useless. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get online tomorrow but here’s my number if you want to text me. No pressure at all! Really! :)

010 3636 9999


AN1: I wanna read this as much as you do (like I did with Sleeping Beauty) so please don’t ask me to “update soon” because if you read that fic, you know that I will try and update as much and as often as I can TT____TT

AN2: And wow ok just wow at all of you who took the time to comment on the first chapter. I am so grateful for the love this has gotten so very quickly and I appreciate it very much when my readers take the time to leave me comments. Remember that I read them all even though I don’t reply. It was very funny seeing people I follow on Twitter who don’t follow me back, spazz on my timeline about the fic. I think that was the first time I’d seen it happen like that hehe.

AN3: I don’t know about you… but at the end of that scene with his parents, I lost it. Poor Jaejoongie :P And yikes… I actually really don’t like email/chat fics OTL Why am I doing this?

Tags: fic:ice, pairing:yunjae, pg-13

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