beeswaxing (beeswaxing) wrote,

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All I Need Is... [4]

Title: All I Need Is...
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Length: Chaptered
Genre: High School fic
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 WOOT!!!!! In December maybe? :P

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.

AN: Please note what I said in my AN at the start of the previous chapter, and pay attention to the gif attached to this fic! OTL

“Yunho! Yunho, where the fuck are you?”

I can hear my brother yelling for me in my bedroom as I stare out over the trees, catching a glimpse of the roof of the house next door. It’s actually a bit of a stretch saying we’re neighbours. The houses are actually a lot further apart than the word neighbour implies. We are neighbours through a shared boundary, not really due to the proximity of the actual homes.

“Yunho! Where the fucking hell are you?”

I don’t even bother moving, enjoying the watery sunlight filtering through the heavy clouds as I gaze up at the sky. It rained barely fifteen minutes after I left Jae standing at his front door. I’d ignored his invitation to come in, not even saying goodbye after donning my helmet. The damn thing even smells like him. I rode home breathing in mint and cinnamon chocolate, with the underlaying scent of my smoke.

What kind of hair product smells like cinnamon chocolate? I don’t remember smelling that on him. He cannot have been sweating cinnamon chocolate that’s for sure.

But my thoughts are interrupted by my furious older brother who has finally managed to find me, making a lot of fucking noise as he wheezes loudly, pulling himself up onto the roof next to me.

“Is Jaejoong ok?”


“Kim Jaejoong. Junsu’s brother. Ring a bell?”

“What about him?”

“What do you mean what about him? He’s missing and the MILF is on her way here right now.”

Now that catches my attention as I sit up to look at him.


“You were the last one seen with him. The fucking principal was all too happy to push you under the bus. I tried to explain you were protecting him, but no one would listen.”

“What do you mean missing?”

“He didn’t return to class after lunch, and his fifth period teacher told the principal who called me and his mother. You’re lucky Dad is uncontactable at the moment otherwise he’d be here as well. Where is your damn phone? I’ve been ringing you for the last hour.”

Fucking hell. All this drama over him skipping school after lunch?

“Did they check his home?”

But before Yoochun can respond, I hear the familiar growl of my father’s Lamborghini. The noise is loud, echoing in the stillness of the surroundings.

“Fuck. Dad’s home.”

“Thanks for the memo.”

“Don’t be an ass. You know you’re not supposed to get into any more trouble. The school is looking for any excuse to kick you out, and you won’t be able to get anywhere if you get kicked out of high school. You just need to last till May. That’s it.”

“I don’t need high school where I want to go.”

“And where is that?”

“For me to know, and you to stay the fuck out of my business.”

We stare at each other, Yoochun wiping all expression from his face. He knows better than to show me any weakness, because I am not above using it against him.

“Yunho? Yoochun?” My dad’s head pops up over the edge of the roof, his expression closed off, almost identical to the face my brother is giving me. “I’d like a word with both of you. Can you come down from the roof please.” He sends a glance my way, and adds for my benefit. “And put on a shirt, Yunho. We have a guest.”

“Not interested.”

“Yunho, you can argue with me all you like another day, but Mrs Kim is here and she is worried about her son.”

“The MILF?”

“Don’t call her that.”

I ignore my father as I stand, walking to the edge of the roof, ignoring my brother’s sharp inhalation as I stand on the edge of the precipice. Yoochun gets freaked out over nothing too easily. I bet I can get a girly scream from him if I pretend to fall.

And so I lean forward, arms akimbo, and the strangled shout of my name from behind me makes me smirk. However, the sudden firm grip around my ankle, and the glittering eyes of my father by my foot dissolves the smile from my face.

“Enough, Yunho.”

I wrench my foot from his grasp, and the urge to kick the bastard right in the mouth is strong, but despite everything…despite everything he has done, he is still my father. I see him flinch as I draw my foot back, and that is enough for me. I turn away, jumping off the roof down onto the balcony lightly. The distance is over two metres but I’ve done it enough to know how to make sure I don’t roll my ankle.

I stalk to my bedroom, the balcony doors left wide open thanks to Yoochun. I really need to get a fucking key to those doors. The only way he could have gotten in was by going through Changmin’s room since we share the balcony space. Yoochun’s room leads out to a separate balcony adjacent to this one, and I for one am glad. Since Changmin isn’t around, I essentially get the balcony to myself.

That is, till days like today when my family decide that hey, why not assume I had something to do with the disappearance of the school weirdo.

Though to be fair, in this case they’d be right.

I slam the doors shut, making the door frame rattle as I bolt it from inside, sneering through the glass at my brother and father who are both staring at me.

Well, stare all they want. Yoochun is already on fucking thin ice for going through my bedroom.

I walk towards my closet at the other end, trailing my fingers over the piano keys of the baby grand along the way. Music is the one thing that stops me losing my mind completely, and my room was made soundproof a long time ago, back when Changmin was still in high school.

It was either that or moving me into the bedroom next to Yoochun’s room, and at that was not an option because my nightmares gave Yoochun nightmares, and our father had more than enough dealing with one unhinged son.

So I stayed.

I know my room isn’t completely soundproofed because of the glass balcony doors, but Changmin never complained, so I saw no need to point it out.

I find a sleeveless shirt and a hoodie, throwing both on before pulling the hood up and leaving my bedroom.

Might as well get this over and done with.

And if I’m being honest (and I usually try to be with myself because what the hell point is there in existing if I can’t even be honest with myself?), I’m wondering where the kid had gotten to. I’m sure he was not planning on going anywhere.

At the bottom of the stairs, I am confronted by Junsu who has the gall to grab hold of my hoodie, but I knock his hand away easily, pushing him back against the banister and glaring at the idiot.

Soccer captain or not, I can wipe the fucking floor with his sorry ass.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“You are. Where the hell is my brother?”

“Junsu! Stop that. Yunho, please let my son go.”

I turn and there is the MILF in a freaking catsuit.

A catsuit.

This woman is supposed to be a kindergarten teacher. I bet a lot of the kids suddenly forget they’ve been weaned for years.

What the fuck?

I toss Junsu aside roughly, not really giving him or his mother a second glance as I turn to walk into the kitchen. I am suddenly ravenous. The afternoon has been nothing but a string of annoyances one after the other. Firstly, I was unable to sleep no matter how hard I tried, and this despite being bone tired. Every time I tried, a pale face with large eyes and pouty mouth entered my vision.

I was delirious enough that at one point, I was imagining him to be Simba.

And I was Scar.

Yes, I needed to get a grip indeed. I blame those ridiculous doe eyes.

After failing to sleep, I decided to try my hand at a new riff, only to snap the fucking strings on my fucking guitar.

And of fucking course I didn’t have any spare.

That was when I’d taken off to the roof to contemplate my surroundings and dream about what I’d do once I turned eighteen.

Only to be interrupted by my brother about the allegedly missing Kim Jaejoong.

I rummage in the pantry, to come up empty handed. There is leftover kimchi fried rice from breakfast but I am definitely not taking a second chance at that toxic dish. I don’t need more images of Jaejoong’s perfect ‘O’ mouth filtering in my vision.

Too late though, because the thought comes with the vision, and the vision comes with a twitch in my loose track pants.


Guess I’m staying behind the kitchen counter.

I watch as the adults along with my brother and the normally smiling Junsu file quietly into the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast table, all of them angling their bodies towards me. I catch my father’s eyes drop to the MILF’s ample cleavage, and I roll my eyes.

I can’t quite knock him for it though since I’ve been contemplating her son’s full mouth a little too much to be considered normal today.

“Where’s Jaejoong?” Junsu demands rudely, staring at me with his beady eyes. A little unkind perhaps, but he is really fucking annoying me right now. Where the hell does he think I would have stashed his brother? The kid is smaller than me but he’s not exactly luggage matarial.

“How the fuck would I know? He’s your brother. Keep a leash on him if you don’t want to lose him.”

“Yunho.” My father’s tone has a hint of warning, but I sense that he too is a little unsure as to why I’m being asked as to our neighbour’s whereabouts.

“You were the last one seen with him.”


“So…” Junsu falters slightly as he looks over at Yoochun. However, whatever he sees on my brother’s face must have disconcerted him because he does not finish his sentence.

The MILF opens her mouth then, her voice cheery, though her face is not as smiley as it usually is.

“I apologise for my son. He’s a little protective about Jaejoong.”

“So protective that Jae flinches away from him when he tries to touch him?” My voice is heavy with scorn, because really, these people are ridiculous.

“So you know her son?” This time my father speaks, and his voice holds surprise more than anything else. And that surprise gives me something to think about. Unlike Junsu, my father had not damned me at all from the start. He did not assume.

That really is something to think about.

“We met today.”

I’m not about to specify when we meet. No one really knows about my late night wanderings. My father caught me once, taking my bike out, and he had threatened to take it away if I did it again. I have a midnight curfew just like Yoochun, but unlike him, I never heed it.

But I take care not to take my bike out. I cannot lose that. My one chance at reaching freedom, and I will be holding onto it.

“Just today?” Junsu questions suspiciously.

“Yes, you idiot. Just today. When the hell would I have met him any time else? I thought he was a damn girl when I saw him in math this morning. His hair is far too long.”

“Speak for yourself,” Yoochun mutters, and I smirk at my older brother. Yes, my hair is also a tad overlong but I don’t have that heartbreakingly beautiful face the kid next door has.

Heartbreakingly beautiful face?

Devil fuck it, I really need to get a grip.

I don’t know how this boy has managed to get under my skin so quickly, but under my skin he is, weaving some kind of weird spell over me.

“Don’t be rude,” my father chastises, but there is not heat behind it, and I turn to glare at him.

This is outrageous. If Jaejoong is truly missing, shouldn’t they be out looking for him instead of hounding me?

“When was the last time you saw Jae?”

“When we left him with you.”

“Have you checked your house?”

“Huh?” Both Kims exchange looks, and something suddenly dawns on me.

I start to laugh, not really believing what I’m about to say. “Do you mean to tell me you two came blazing all the way here to look for Jae, and you didn’t even bother to check your own fucking house?”

“Um…” the MILF starts, and I am quite satisfied to see the flush in her cheeks. MILF or not, pretty or not, she has nothing on her son. And I’m being objective. Even if I liked pussy, her son is still far more beautiful than she is.

“Hyorin, did you really not check your house first?” My father’s voice is soft, and oddly disappointed as he turns towards her.

“I…Junsu said…” and she looks helplessly between my father and her son, and then back at my brother. She doesn’t look my way and that amuses me a little.

My boner is gone, and I move from behind the kitchen counter and out the back door, grabbing my running shoes along the way.

“Where are you going?”

“To go for a run. If Jae really isn’t home, I’ll help look for him, but you’ve wasted enough of my time already.”


The pot of kimchi jiggae is almost done, and I’m feeling more lighthearted that I imagined possible. Definitely more lighthearted than I ought to be feeling after what happened this afternoon.

And even as the memories stream slowly back in, I push away at them with all my might.

No more.

Not today anyway.

Today is for new memories.

Nice memories.

Today I rode a bike.

Ok, maybe that’s not technically accurate, but it’s close enough.

I can understand why the boy next door chooses to ride a bike rather than drive a car. The feeling of freedom as we rode down the relatively deserted road back in the direction of the exclusive neighbourhood we both reside in is extremely exhilarating.

I had been thisclose to asking if we could go ride somewhere else when he dropped me off, but he had taken off without a word, and that made me feel a little twinge. I haven’t really felt any twinges before. I don’t know what the twinge meant.

Was I upset?

I didn’t really feel upset. I was still happy from the ride, and the fact that I hadn’t completely freaked out about being so close to him. I exaggerated a little when I told him I would be ok if I chose to touch someone.

Basically, I never choose to touch anyone. No one my age or older anyway. The only ones I’ve willingly touched were the kids at the orphanage, and that was out of necessity. Try telling a seven year old he cannot touch you and see what happens.

Was I angry?

Definitely not. I discard the thought immediately. Yunho had understood. Somehow, without me saying a word, he understood that I had an aversion to being touched. I don’t know how he managed to come to that conclusion, and while I feel a little embarrassed that he had picked up on it, I also cannot help but feel thankful and a little curious.

How did he know?

Even Junsu has no clue and we’ve been living together for six months. And this strange boy from next door knew the same day we met. I never spoke to him about it. All we discussed under the waning moonlight early this morning were generic things.




Nothing too personal. Just random small talk. In fact, we hadn’t actually talked that much. The silence between us comfortable which is yet another strange thing. People always seem to feel the need to fill in silence with random words, talking out of some misguided notion that silence is unnatural.

But silence is natural, and something I vastly prefer over the inane chatter of most of our peers. Even Junsu and Hyorin, bless their souls, are uncomfortable in silence. They talk almost non-stop, always asking questions or blathering on randomly about this or that.

And it’s not that I don’t care about what they have to say.

It’s more that they’re not really saying anything worth listening to.

I am silent because I prefer it. Though there are times I do wish for a distraction, especially when the voices in my head get too loud. When the memories start coming back, triggered by one thing or the other. When I wake up from a nightmare and all I want is for someone to reassure me that everything is ok.

But then again, I know it will all be a filthy lie.

Things will never be ok.

Because you see, I’m a murderer.

I shake my head, clearing my mind once again.

No more of those thoughts. I’ve had enough of them to last me a lifetime. I know for certain if I sleep today, I will be plagued by nightmares. Just a split second blink today, closing my eyes for a brief moment and I was already transported back to the root of my nightmares.

Back to where it all started.

It wasn’t my fault they said.

I was just a child they said.

But I knew full well what I was doing. I knew exactly what I was doing.

I was killing evil.

But then that evil slipped out of him and into me.

And now it is haunting me.

I hear a commotion as the front door opens, and I smile, knowing Hyorin and Junsu will be more than happy with the menu for dinner tonight. I turn, just in time to see a wide-eyed Junsu, followed by Hyorin, Yoochun and a man I have never seen before but he looks vaguely familiar.

“Jaejoong! You’re alive!” Junsu exclaims, rushing towards me. I cannot help it, I back away immediately, the knife I’d been using to slice green onions held out in front of me, which pulls him up short. I don’t realise my stance till I notice his eyes dropping down to the knife and back at me, and when I do, I cannot help the mortified sound that escapes my lips as the knife clatters to the floor.

“Junsu, you know you’re not supposed to scare your brother like that. Look what you’ve made him do.” Hyorin turns towards me, smiling reassuringly. “That smells wonderful, Joongie. Is it kimchi jiggae?”

I nod, thankful for the distraction because I feel awful now. I can almost feel the concerned and confused looks Yoochun and the man with him are throwing at me. I bend down to pick up the knife, but Junsu beats me to it, and I back off again, wiping my hands in my apron, trying not to scream at him to move away.

Junsu is too close, always too close.

He can’t help it.

But I can. I can help it. I can learn not to freak out every time he does.

But he does it so suddenly, that it is so hard.

I wish I could tell him not to, but I cannot.

I cannot.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs under his breath, and I try and smile.

But it is really hard. I can feel all the extra eyes on me, and it’s making me feel self-conscious. I just want to run up to my room.

Or better yet, run back out to my bench.

Yes, my bench.

Our bench.


I can feel my brow furrowing as I scowl at the errant thought.


Before I can examine the thought any further, Hyorin speaks again.

“Joongie, why did you skip school today? Your teachers were concerned and called me.”

“I…I…” I look at both Yoochun and now Junsu who has moved to sit next to the senior class president. Junsu is forever clueless, but Micky Yoochun picks up quickly, and somehow this does not surprise me. He is Yunho’s brother after all.

“There was an accident in school. Some of Xiah’s soccer mates accidentally kicked a ball into Jaejoong’s face, and he was bleeding everywhere.”

“What?!” Hyorin exclaims, surging to her feet immediately, rushing over to my side, and I wince. I wince because I know what is going to happen next and it is going to take everything I have not to bolt.

Either the wince shows on my face, or she remembers just in time, because she stops just short of touching me. Her hands are fisted by her sides, just like mine as her eyes roam over my face, her expression worried.

“Are you ok?”

I nod mutely, trying to thank her with my eyes for not trying to touch me in front of these people. I know it looks odd, and her eyes are soft with understanding as she nods, before moving past me to make a show of checking out the kimchi jiggae.

She tastes it, and lets out a happy squeal, something rather familiar to me, and this time it does bring a genuine smile to my face. Junsu smiles too, as does Yoochun, followed slowly by the unidentified man.

“Eric, you must stay for dinner. Joongie is the best cook in the whole of Seoul, maybe even South Korea, and I’m not exaggerating. And Yoochun must stay too of course. And if you can manage it, your other son because I think all the apologies in the world from me to him are not going to be enough for what happened at your house.

My smile dies on my lips as I look back and forth between the now identified man’s face, Yoochun’s and then back at Hyorin. My glance over at Junsu reveals my “brother” looking rather sheepish, and the words spill out before I can stop them.

“What happened to Yunho?”

I barely notice how demanding I sound.

Nor how I have stepped forward to grip the kitchen counter as I glare at everyone.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but somehow Yunho is tied up in this and I don’t like it.

“I didn’t know you knew Yunho, baby.”

“I met him today.”

“Their stories match…” Eric, Yoochun’s father speaks quietly, watching me carefully, but his words rub me the wrong way. What the hell is this? An interrogation?

“What do you mean our stories match? I didn’t realise we had to match our stories. What happened to Yunho? Someone please answer me.” I remember to be polite at the very last minute, almost gritting my teeth as I look at Yoochun, because I think he is about the only one who would answer me without somehow changing the story to suit himself.

And true enough, it is Yunho’s older brother who responds.

“The principal called me and Xiah to the office to ask about your whereabouts because he was told you were last seen with Yunho. I’m sure you know about my brother’s reputation so naturally,” he pauses, throwing a dirty look at Junsu who looks down guiltily, “everyone assumed my brother had somehow drawn and quartered you and buried your body parts in our backyard.”

“Yoochun!” Eric admonishes his son, but Hyorin is chuckling ruefully, and he seems to be taking his cues from her because he smiles.

“That’s ridiculous! Yunho was nothing but nice to me. He took me home because I couldn’t face going back to class after what happened at lunch.” I know I’m lying, but what the hell. Yunho really was nothing but nice, in his own way, and this is the thanks he gets? Not if I have anything to say about it.

“He took you home?” Junsu asks incredulously. “How? On his bike?”

“Yes, his bike. Why?”

“You rode his motorbike with him?” Hyorin voice is pitched rather high, her shock is clearly evident in her face and voice, and I don’t bother pausing to wonder what the hell Yoochun and his father must be thinking about her reaction.

“Yes, I did. It was really nice. If he has another helmet, I wouldn’t mind if he gives me another ride.”

“You rode his motorbike…you rode on his bike? With him on it?”

“Hyo—Mum! How else do people ride bikes?” I know what she is insinuating, but no one else in the room catches on, all three males staring wide-eyed at us behind the kitchen counter.

“But…” She trails off, her mouth is opening and shutting but nothing further comes out as she stares at me in disbelief.

“That’s dangerous! He’s too young to even be allowed to ride a bike. I don’t want you riding his bike with him again!” Junsu speaks up, standing suddenly, and all eyes turn to him.

“Excuse me? I can do whatever I want. I’m older than you, Junsu. Older than Yunho as well in fact.” I really have no fucking idea where I found my big boy boxers, but I’m apparently wearing them as I stare my adopted brother down, and he deflates almost as quickly as he inflates, and I feel a little sorry for him.

Hyorin, probably realising the atmosphere is getting a little strained, laughs lightly.

“Ah…boys will be boys. Joongie has always been good, but I guess a little rebellion is normal.”

“Hyo—Mum. Mum, I’m not hungry.” And with that, I say goodbye to our guests and leave. I know I’m the cause of the awkwardness, and in all honesty, I really am no longer hungry. I’ve never asserted myself like this in my adopted home, because adopted children should barely be seen and never heard. That’s what most people say, especially for the older kids. Rebel, and they send you back. I have no fucking idea what got into me, but I’m going to be damned if I have to sit through a farce of a dinner.

Unsurprisingly, Hyorin lets me go, and I belatedly wonder if I should start packing my things.


I am surprised to see the house dark with only the porch lights and the back yard security lights left on when I return from my jog. Our father is almost never home, but when he is, he does try to cook dinner and attempt at some semblance of normalcy.

But then I remember the sparse contents of the pantry, and figure he and Yoochun have probably left home to find something edible to eat.

Figures they’d leave me behind.

Not that I would care on a normal day, but I am actually hungry this time. I could call for takeout I guess, but I don’t feel like eating bland food.

I decide to take a long bath to soak all my aches and pains away.

Well, that’s a lie. I actually need to rub one out thanks to that girly boy next door.

That doesn’t even make sense. I’m not attracted to girls at all so likening him to a girl makes no sense at all considering how attractive I find him.

And that’s really the pincher isn’t it? I’m attracted to a boy who screams if anyone so much as tries to touch him. It is a level of broken even I’m not sure if I know how to deal with.

And the better question is, do I even want to deal with it?

But in the meantime, I can just imagine that sinful mouth on me.

Thanks to my new “friend”, I don’t just come once, but twice.


Once wasn’t enough. His large doe eyes and pouting mouth sent my hand right back where it started after the first time. I even tried that trick where you sit on your hand to numb it, and then jerk off, to imagine that it is him jerking me off and not myself.


Utterly fucking ridiculous.

Yet I don’t stop, till I’m done, his name echoing off my bathroom walls.

And not for the first time today, I am thankful I don’t share a wall with Yoochun. We are practically in different wings of the house.

When I emerge, the house is still dark, but the energy is different. I can sense my brother and father are back. Both of them holed up in their own separate wings of the house just like me.

I shake my head in disgust, shutting the door to my room again as I get dressed, wearing a sleeveless top yet again, and carrying a hoodie as I grab my pack of cigarettes and lighter from my desk. Smoking staves off the hunger pangs, and I’ll probably survive till tomorrow morning.

I open the balcony door, noting the crisp air. Winter is definitely coming, but I am still overheated from my long bath and wank session that I simply toss my hoodie over my shoulder instead of wearing it, before hopping over the railing, landing on the soft grass.

The jump from my balcony to the ground is slightly higher than the roof to my balcony, but I haven’t injured myself yet. I brush myself off, before heading towards the bench.

And I’m not going to lie to myself and deny that I’m secretly hoping Jae will be there.

As I reach the crest of a small hill on our property, I can make out the figure hunched over on the bench. I can feel my mouth stretching into a smile, but I smother it and turn it into a scowl instead.

Why is this kid out here on a cool night?

I start jogging slowly towards him, and as I get closer, my scowl becomes genuine because I can see him shaking.

Is he crying?

As I approach, I can practically hear his teeth chattering, and I realise the stupid kid isn’t crying.

He is fucking cold.

Why the hell is he out here wearing nothing but a green tank top then? I huff loudly, to let him know I am there, and I see his body tense, then relax, but he doesn’t turn, which makes me feel a strange flutter in my belly. I don’t know what it is, but it is a very interesting feeling to find someone comfortable enough with me not to run at my presence.

While I usually do my best to intimidate people, not wanting anyone even remotely the fuck near me, I find that I like that this boy, of all the boys, isn’t intimidated by me.

I pull off my hoodie from my shoulder, opening it up and dropping it over his shivering shoulders. He makes a strange squeaking sound, but mumbles a thank you as he slips his arms into my hoodie, zipping it up quickly.

Rather curious now to see how he’ll react, I place my hands on the back of the bench and lean over him, looking down. I’m not touching him, but I am definitely all up in his space, and what I get almost sends me staggering to my knees.

Instead of screaming, screeching, flailing, running, crying, or whatever else I thought he might have done, Jae tilts his head back and sends me a sweet smile, his eyes shining, telling me that he is happy to see me.

Fucking Lucifer and all his fucking demons.

I am not prepared for that, frozen in fact, unable to move as he stares up at me, blinking prettily. His fringe is so long they are almost obscuring his eyes, but they fall just so that they frame those soft brown doe eyes, making me focus on them.

And as I do, my eyes travel further down, over his nose that shows no sign of the injury it sustained earlier that afternoon, and then to his mouth.

My kryptonite.

Those full lips are stretched slightly into a smile, not quite that perfect little moue that has driven me to insanity, but close enough.

And then I take a deep breath,

And I am lost, as my senses are filled with cinnamon, chocolate and mint.


I know I’ve stopped thinking as I bend over further to close the gap, and as my mouth presses against his soft pout, I feel rather than hear him exclaim, and the next thing I know, I am on my ass in the cold wet grass, and Jae is running off.

I don’t chase him. I can’t.

I’ve pushed too far when I shouldn’t have.

Have I lost him already?

I don’t know how long I sit there, the damp grass wetting my track pants, but when I finally get up, I see one of those thermos flasks, the kind that carries soup or stew rather than drink sitting on the bench. Next to it I see two bowls and another container. I open the container, to find rice in it, cold rice, but freshly cooked nonetheless. Laid flat on top of the rice are two pairs of chopsticks and two spoons.

Curious now, I sit on the bench, and twist the lid on the flask.

The smell that hits me actually makes me groan.

And my belly rumbles in response.

I am fucking starving, and here is food that smells so good I could possibly gain nourishment from that alone.

But I am being stupid and fanciful. Feeling horrible about inadvertently chasing Jae off, but yet so hungry now that I cannot think of anything but food, I dish out a meal for myself.

And what a fucking meal that was.

If this is how the MILF cooks, then my father has my permission to marry her right the fuck now. I actually moan in happiness.

In happiness.

Do you know how fucking insane that is?

Food is making me moan.

But sweet devil in hell, this is not food, this is the nectar of the gods.

I don’t realise how hungry I am, till I realise I am scraping the corners of the container.

And for a brief instance, I am actually glad Jae had run off because this was barely enough food for me, let alone two people.


I drop the container next to me as I stare out over the city.

What have I done?

AN1: So… was this still confusing? The different points of view? IDK why people are confused because I’m not confused but then I’m the one writing it so eh… ;-)

AN2: Also, no apology for the mild cockblock because I already came so hard today that my TOES actually went fucking numb that I know if I actually wrote out Yunho’s hand job, I’d die, and I really don’t want my husband coming home to a wife dead because she drowned in her own jizz so yeah.

AN3: Yunho is baaaaaad. What have you done??!?!!?!?!?!? OTL Though I want you to admit that when you watched the Dangerous Love NGs and BTS, that scene? Y'all totally imagined Yunho bending down didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?

As can get me here:
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Succinctly via Twitter @JungYunWhore
Lengthily via email
Graphically via my tumblr ask or submission boxes
Tags: fic:aini, pairing:yunjae, pg-13

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