All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...


Previous Entry Share Next Entry
All I Need Is... [5]
YJ06
beeswaxing
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: So many words… guh…







I’m staring at my fifth mug of coffee, and I’m really surprised I haven’t bounced off the walls yet when my father and brother come stomping down the stairs. If they find my presence odd, they both don’t comment on it as Yoochun makes a beeline for the fridge, exclaiming happily when he sees something in it. I look up just in time to see him pull out a container, but he is not quick enough to pull off the post it note sitting on the top of it.

Yunho.

“Hey!” I protest as he cracks open the lid, and he glances up at me, looking somewhat guilty. “That has my name on it, why are you opening it?”

He pauses and scowls at me before dropping the lid loosely over the top of the open container. My nose is too full of coffee grounds to be able to smell anything else.

“Why didn’t you eat it? We brought it home for you.”

“What is it?”

“Your dinner.”

At the mention of the word dinner, a broad smile splits my face at the memory of the divine meal from the gods last night. And with it comes the memory of Jae running away because of me, and my smile withers away, dying a premature death.

“Interesting thoughts?” My father comments as he pours himself a mug of coffee from the machine, staring at me over the rim as he takes a sip. “You missed a beautiful dinner last night. You should try the leftovers before Yoochun tries to steal it.”

A muffled protest is heard, and my eyes move back to Yoochun who has a spoon in his mouth, eyes wide and innocent but it’s clear he’s been dipping into my food. He pushes the container over to me, digging up a new spoon and tossing it at me.

I am much too high on caffeine, spaced out even, to bring forth enough belligerence to growl at my family members. And besides, all this talk about dinner is making my mouth water from the memory of last night. I eat when I feel like it, and have no set times for eating, so having dinner for breakfast isn’t really that much of a stretch.

My body is buzzing from the caffeine, but my sluggish brain, deprived of sleep even more than usual, is struggling to catch up. I am already shoveling a spoonful of food in my mouth when the connectors in my brain finally spark at the familiar taste.

I drop my spoon in shock, mouth hanging as I stare at my father and Yoochun, both of whom are smirking at me.

“Good, huh?”

“You had dinner next door last night.” My tone is more accusatory than a question, and both of them pick up on it, their smirks quickly turning into confused frowns.

“I didn’t realise you and Jaejoong were so close already that you recognise his cooking.”

And my jaw drops even further, gaping at the two men on the other side of the kitchen counter.

My brother seems to catch on first. Sometimes Yoochun can be way more perceptive than he pretends to be, but I guess he managed to become school president somehow.

“You didn’t know he made that?”

Instead of answering, I quickly grab the lid of the container, replacing it, making sure it is sealed tight before getting up. I grab my jacket and helmet.

“If you want a ride to school, you better get your ass on my bike in the next two minutes otherwise I’m leaving without you.”



~~~xxx~~~




Getting out of the car is a mission. I always take awhile to centre myself to feel ready enough to face the masses of people. Being introduced as Junsu’s brother, or Xiah as he is more affectionately known by the school population has made the transition much smoother than any other school I have ever been to. Most leave me alone, as I don’t invite conversation at all. I keep my head down, and pretty much keep to myself, and it is only the more curious or daring that venture closer.

Word had gone out that I’m painfully shy, and out of reverence for Junsu perhaps, most respect it.

P.E is the worst.

Contact is almost inevitable, and despite my pleas, Hyorin refuses to write me a note excusing me from it.

”You need to face this, Joongie. I know it’s hard but if you keep hiding you will never be able to fix this.”

I hate her for this. It is the only thing I have ever really asked her for, and while professing to care and understand, she still pushes me into something that is almost guaranteed to break me. Perhaps it’s my own fault for not explaining why I hate being touched. But to explain means to relive, and to relive means the nightmares will come back, not that they ever left me.

Each touch brings with it pain. Not a physical pain of course, but something far worse. A searing pain in my soul, and the memory of the burn on my thighs and buttocks.

Touch always reminds me of it.

Even last night.

Yunho had shocked the fuck out of me. I thought he understood. He had been so careful and caring, but he touched me. He didn’t ask for permission, he just…kissed me.

I can feel my face heating up again at the memory. It had been so sudden, and I know the touch lasted far longer than I usually would have allowed before screaming bloody murder. But he had really caught me by surprise.

He stole my first kiss.

And I’m more angry at him over breaking my trust than for stealing that kiss.

I felt the darkness coming back for me yesterday, but the thought of Yunho kept me awake easily. And so I have to thank him for bringing the nightmares, yet at the same time for keeping them away.

Nothing makes sense.

And thanks to me staying out all night, I am now nursing a tiny cold.

And I keep telling myself this is why I’m wearing the hoodie he draped on me last night to school. It smelled of him, and I’d lain in the sunken lounge of our swimming pool wearing it. I didn’t even do any homework, simply staring at the stars, trying to figure out why I still want to get to know him despite him acting like an ass.

Sure, Jaejoong. Keep telling yourself he was acting like an ass.

“Jaejoong, I’m going to be late for work,” Hyorin chides gently and I look up to catch her staring at me in the rearview mirror. Junsu is long gone, exiting the car immediately upon arrival about fifteen minutes ago.

I sigh, and decide to try my luck one last time.

“Can you please write me a note excusing me from P.E?” I add a little cough and miserable sniffle to emphasize the necessity of one, though I know it probably won’t work. I’d have to be running a fever or something for her to excuse me from P.E.

She gazes at me, her brow furrowing, before breaking eye contact to actually turn in her seat to look at me. I look back as her eyes roam my body.

I know what she’s looking at. The hoodie Yunho had given me last night actually belonged to his brother. The oldest one, already long gone from high school. It is an old basketball letter hoodie, with his surname and number emblazoned on the back.

However, the stitching over the chest of his name has been removed, and in its place, a carefully stitched replacement.

Yunho.

I wonder whether his brother did this for him. I cannot imagine Yunho caring enough to stitch his own name onto his brother’s old clothes. I only notice this because the outline of the stitching of Changmin can still be seen if you look close enough.

“I will if you tell me how you got that hoodie.”

My eyes tighten, and I bite my lower lip. I cannot help the glare I send her, and instead of replying, I get out of the car, slamming the door loudly before walking off.

It would’ve been so simple to tell her what happened, and get that coveted note excusing me from P.E.

But for some reason still as yet unknown to me, I don’t want to share Yunho.

I am aware of the whispers that trail after me. I am wearing a shoulder bag rather than a backpack, and the back of the hoodie is clearly visible to everyone.

Just as I reach an empty picnic table to wait for the first bell, I hear the telltale rumble of a motorbike.

I want to turn, but I don’t want to be too obvious about it. The roar seems to get closer, and closer and then the engine is cut. I pull out my math homework, trying to squeeze in as much calculus as I can before first period.

I soon forget about the motorbike as question three plagues me yet again. Someone dropping something on the table in front of me steals my attention though, and I look up to see a smirking Jung Yoochun.

“Yes?”

“Nice hoodie.”

“Th-thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s not mine.” And he winks. He winks at me before patting the helmet he has just placed in front of me. “Something tells me I’m not going to be getting a ride home. Look after this, will you?” And just like that, he winks one last time before turning and heading over to one of the larger picnic tables. I recognise his minions, and they are all chatting animatedly as they stare at me.

I continue watching even as he turns, giving me a thumbs up sign, before he shoos everyone off the table and they head indoors to the school cafeteria.

I wait for a bit, but no one else approaches me. Finally unable to shake off my curiosity, I turn…to find nobody near me. The field behind me has pockets of students here and there, some watching me, others just lounging around waiting for the bell.

The tables around me are all occupied, but I don’t find the person my eyes are searching for.

Where did he go?

What am I supposed to do with the helmet?

The bell suddenly rings shrilly, interrupting my thoughts, but I can’t move. I never do till everyone else has left the surroundings because the first bell always means congestion in the hallways and congestion means touching, and touching means me freaking out so I wait.

I’ve been given tardy slips a few times because of it, but I’d rather serve detention than get caught up in the wall of people.

I pack up my things slowly, waiting for the second bell to go. The helmet in front of me is different from the one Yunho had lent me yesterday. Yunho’s helmet is black while this one is blue. A really dark blue.

Beautiful.

Did I just call a helmet beautiful?

Other than the colour, every thing else looks to be identical. I finally gather up the courage to reach a hand out to pick up the helmet.

And the second bell goes.

I don’t know what to do with the helmet. I chance a look behind me again, and I see that Yunho has left his helmet with his bike. I can understand how no one would dare steal his helmet, but what of this helmet?

The warning bell goes then, and I know I have to get moving. I have math first period, and for the first time in a very long time, I’ve yet to finish my homework.

I know people will talk, what with the hoodie and now a helmet.

I might as well proclaim to the world that somehow, Yunho and I are linked.

And for some reason, that makes me twinge.

I really need someone to explain these weird twinges.



~~~xxx~~~




“Are you planning on attending classes regularly again?”

I am currently sitting in the dean’s office trying to get my schedule rearranged. And all the dumb questions are really starting to piss me off. How hard is it to add me to three classes, and remove me from three others? It’s not like the classrooms are full anyway. This is a supposedly elite private high school where the teacher-student ratio is small. There are less than twenty students to every class I am enrolled in, and I know this is the same throughout the school. The maximum ratio is twenty, so I know it shouldn’t be a fucking problem to switch me around so I don’t get why the headmaster is being such a prick about it.

He hasn’t even apologised for practically insinuating that I’d kidnapped Jae yesterday, not that I expected one.

I glare at the man behind the desk, whose fingers are steepled as he stares at me over the rim of his glasses.

Ullzzang glasses.

How fucking pathetic. The man is about as ullzzang as the fucking janitor.

There is only one ullzzang in the school for me and this man sure as hell isn’t fucking it.

“Fuck, no.” I finally reply, smirking as he winces at my response.

“Why do you want to switch classes then? I cannot help but notice that if I do approve this request, your classes are all going to line up with Kim Jaejoong’s.”

“So? Maybe he needs a tutor.”

To my surprise, he actually laughs at that. Laughing so uproariously that he even takes his glasses off to wipe away at his tears.

“Tutor? You want to tutor him?”

“Do you actually think I fucking want this? Have you spoken to my so-called guidance counsellor? The bastard says I need extra credit if I want to leave school in May instead of December like I’m meant to because of the six months of school I missed thanks to you and your fucking assholes.”

He sobers up immediately at my words, watching me again, his mouth now twisted rather disdainfully as he is no doubt remembering exactly why I missed six months of school in the first place. Well, over two of those months happened to fall within the summer holidays but that doesn’t really matter much in the greater scheme of things. I still technically missed six months this year.

“Your teachers tell me you’re already all caught up despite only attending math yesterday in a month.”

“And?”

I smirk as he looks a little nonplussed at my response. What does he expect me to say? Woot? Seriously, this shit is easy, and I really have nothing better to do but read or study in the wee hours of the morning. My reputation is a result of my lack of control when I’m angry. I have anger management issues and it is the reason I get into shit all the time.

I hate people.

My father has sent me to anger management counseling but after paying hundreds and thousands of dollars for therapy where I do nothing but stare at the man or woman being paid to counsel me, he’d given up.

Nothing I don’t expect from him anyway.

“So…you really want to tutor Kim Jaejoong?”

“Better him than anyone else.”

“Can I ask why?”

“No.”

And again he looks surprised at my response. Is this guy a fucking moron or what? Does he expect me to spill my guts and explain my every action? He’s the principal, nothing more. I don’t owe him fucking shit.

He finally sighs, leaning forward to initial his name against my change of class request form.

“I can’t approve the switch to P.E because you are not exactly known for being the most sportsman-like person out there. I don’t need parents hounding me to get you expelled for breaking kneecaps because you didn’t like the way your classmate pitched the ball.”

I frown because I’d forgotten about P.E. How is Jae going to fair in that?

“I’ve approved all your changes, but P.E will be a free period for you. You can stay with the class if you like but you are not to participate, is that understood?”

“Whatever,” I stand and snatch the paper from his desk, not bothering to thank him as I turn to leave. I’m already late for math and I don’t bother getting an excuse slip from reception because I really don’t fucking care. If the teacher won’t let me in, I’ll just bail. No loss. I’ve already gotten what I wanted by coming to school today.

Liar.

The word enters unbidden in my head, and I remember the container of food in my backpack. I’d eaten Jae’s dinner last night, the least I can do is offer to share what he’d packed for me.

Right?

When the fuck did I turn into such a sap?

Annoyed now, I turn away from the direction of my math class, heading out instead. I need a fucking cigarette.

Or two.

Or three.



I can here the bells ringing from a distance. The bleachers are empty, and will be till lunch break. It is too cold to be holding P.E outdoors today, so I know my class is at the gym right this second. I’d only managed two cigarettes because that was all my pack held. I’d left my new one back home which fucking sucks. I contemplate leaving school to get it, but for some reason, my feet turn towards the sports complex instead of the carpark.

When I enter the main sports hall, my class is in the middle of what looks like a volleyball tournament.

My eyes roam the floor, and I find what I’m looking for easily enough.

Kim Jaejoong, standing off to the side, arms wrapped around himself as he stares morosely at the net.

I climb up the bleachers, aiming to sit right at the top. There are a bunch of girls along the bottom, and I can hear them tittering behind me as I take the steps two at a time. On their periods no doubt. It makes no fucking sense to me that they can be excused for that. No one I’ve ever seen has been doubled over in pain or whatever during P.E. They are always sitting around giggling and gossiping, looking perfectly healthy and able to participate.

And judging from the miserable look on Jae’s face, and the closed off lines of his body, he probably wishes he’s a girl right about now so he can pretend to have his period and get out of P.E.

I watch dispassionately as the girls in the bottom row starting weaving their way up the bleachers, climbing over the seats instead of taking the stairs. Each time they lift their legs, I see flashes of their underwear.

White.

Pink.

Red.

I smirk, suddenly wondering what colour underwear Jae is wearing.

Clearly those girls think the smirk is for them though, as they start giggling again, finally reaching me. Two settle on either side of me while the third sits on the seat by my feet, practically sitting on the tip of my boot.

“Oppa…” one of them purrs and I roll my eyes at her blatant attempt at trying to flirt. “What brings you here?”

“This is my class.”

“Since when do you come to class, oppa?” Another asks, her voice high and breathy and extremely grating on the ears. I don’t even know what the fuck their names are. I think I’ll nickname them.

Bimbo One with the white underwear.

Bimbo Two with the pink underwear.

Bimbo Three with the red underwear.

B1, B2 and B3 for short.

“Since today.” I lean back, dropping my hands behind me as I nudge the girl at my feet to move away so I can stretch my legs. She complies with a pout.

A pout I find extremely annoying and distasteful.

Too slicked up with gloss and much too pink for it to be natural, she looks hideous.

“You should wipe your mouth.”

“What?” B3 blinks up at me, confused, her mouth parted and I can see a little pink on her teeth.

Disgusting.

“You look like a used harlot with all that shit on your mouth. Go away and clean it off.”

She freezes, looking at her friends for help, but the little traitors simply giggle, simpering next to me, offering no assistance whatsoever to their fellow sister in sin. Peas in a pod all of them, but of course they cannot see that. I can see tears forming in her eyes as she turns to flee down the stairs, going to the bathroom no doubt.

I can’t bring myself to care.

I hate people.

Too many stupid ones around. These ones are clearly in this school because of their money not their brains.

“You’re so mean, oppa,” B2 giggles next to me as she watches her friend leave. She places a hand on my arm and I shrug it off immediately.

“Don’t fucking touch me with your filthy whore hands.”

And now it’s her turn to freeze. Guess she now knows what her friend feels like, as she places her hands in her lap, looking down now. She doesn’t quite move away from me, but she is finally quiet.

Great, two down, one more to go.

“Um…”

“Just go away B1,” I inject as much annoyance as possible into my tone because their presence is really fucking irritating me.

And not just irritating me, irritating my nose as well.

Their expensive perfume smells like cheap nasty shit, and it is giving me a fucking headache.

“B-B1?”

“Bimbo One. That’s you with the white underwear. I don’t know your name, nor do I care to know it. If you think hanging out with me is going to win you cool points, you’ve got another fucking thing coming. Before I make you cry as well, just go away.”

I shrug off my jacket, using the motion to try and push away the two girls on either side of me.

B1 finally finds her voice as she stands. “You don’t have to be such a fucking ass, Yunho. We were just trying to be friendly.” She crosses over my legs to grab her friend, and I make a rude noise at her.

“Whatever.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks.”

And with that, the two remaining girls flounce down the bleachers, taking the stairs this time, settling in their original position just as a scream echoes throughout the hall, silencing the squeaking sneakers on the polished wooden floors.

Jae.

Fucking hell, I am distracted for five minutes and he is already on the floor, his hand over his nose yet again.

Blood.

Not again.

I can see the gym teacher trying to coax him, and I briefly wonder why Junsu isn’t taking P.E with this class. Surely his brother ought to know better than to leave Jae by himself in a class like this.

I am already at the foot of the stairs, and running towards him before my brain can even catch up with my body.

My impulse issues at work once again.

I practically shove the gym teacher away, as our classmates gape.

“Move.”

Jae’s eyes are shut as I crouch down, and his whimpering is heartbreaking. I know it is the blood triggering him again, and I need to snap him out of it.

But I really don’t want to do it in front of the whole class.

I realise I am still holding my jacket, and I quickly drape it around him. I can see him stiffening, before he suddenly opens his eyes and looks up, fear and hopelessness once again in those beautiful dark eyes. He catches my eyes and I see recognition in them. I give him a quick nod before moving to stand in front of him.

I turn to glare at the boys and girls standing around us.

“Who did this?” My voice is low, and vicious. I am past angry right now. I don’t know why it infuriates me so much to see Jae like this, and I know it is preventable.

Silence.

But I see several classmates backing away from one of the boys.

A boy I don’t recognise, and I turn towards him.

“Did you do this?”

“I…I…” he glances down at Jae and I see remorse in his eyes. He is tall, not quite as tall as me, and his voice sounds a little accented. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“So you spiked the ball into his face accidentally?” I’m a little proud of my self-control. If he had fucking spiked the ball in my face, he’d be a bloody heap on the ground right now.

One of the girls step forward, and I recognise Yuri. She and Yoochun used to date when he was a sophomore, and she’s been over to the house a few times. I like her, as much as I can like a girl. She’s a little tomboyish and unpretentious, and genuinely nice.

“Yunho, Jaejoong tripped on his shoelace just as Han Geng spiked the ball and he really did get in the way of the ball when he fell. It wasn’t on purpose.”

I arch my eyebrow at her, and she arches hers back at me. Arms crossed, cooly staring at me.

I know she’s speaking the truth.

I turn back towards the gym teacher who is looking a little wild about the eyes. What the hell is wrong with the teachers in this school anyway? Every time I turn up to a class, they all start looking a little green about the gills.

“Tell everyone to take five. I’ll sort Jae out.”

“Uh…t-take f-five everyone.”

I roll my eyes in disgust. Seriously? Honestly, this whole bad boy thing is a convenient crutch. People tend to bend over backwards to do my bidding because the possible alternative is just a tad too much for them to imagine.

Destroying those cars appears to be worth the six months in JD if all the teachers are going to jump whenever I say anything.

I couch down once again, Jae has my jacket fully around him but he has not slipped his arms into the sleeves. He is holding the collar up to his nose, his eyes wide and breathing heavily as he appears to be…sniffing my jacket?

What?

“Let me check your nose.”

He shakes his head at me, those liquid pools of brown shimmering with unshed tears as they stare back at me. He appears to have calmed down now that he cannot see the blood on his gym attire.

“Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head again, eyes watchful, and then I see it.

That tiny hint of distrust.

“Jae…”

And again he shakes his head, his brow furrowing, and he is unable to hide his wince when the scrunching up of his face somehow hurts his nose.

“You need to get your nose checked out. You’ve had a balls to your face twice in less than twenty four hours now.”

I almost choke on my own words, because the image in my head is suddenly very very very wrong.

Get a fucking grip, Jung.

“Can you walk?”

That damn head shake again.

What the hell?

“If you can’t walk, I’m going to have to carry you to the nurse’s office.”

His eyes widen immediately, and his head shaking becomes almost continuous. All I can see are those beautiful large eyes, pale cheekbones and jet black hair shaking his head back and forth, while the rest of him is hidden under my jacket.

“Jae, P.E is about to resume, and soon our classmates will be surrounding us once again. You have exactly one minute to decide what to do.”

My tone is firm, almost as if I am talking to a child. I don’t fucking know why I care enough to do this. But something within me is telling me that I have to. I feel like I have to protect him.

I still don’t get why.

But for the first time in a very long time, I feel like there is a purpose for my existence. Living life without a purpose is far more depressing and soul wrenching than anyone can imagine.

You don’t fucking care what happened in the past.

You barely even care what happens today.

And you sure as fuck don’t care about what happens tomorrow.

But since I met this doe eyed boy on the bench in the wee hours of the morning, something has stirred within me.

I don’t know what it is.

But I am rather interested to see it through.

And I can barely remember the last time I was interested in anything.

I was like an animal, taking care of all the baser instincts, but not giving a flying crap about anything else.

Till Jae.

“Please…” I hear the soft whisper, the hated word.

I see the plea in his eyes, even as the whisper reaches into me, grasping me from within.

I don’t hesitate, leaning forward, apologising as I do, just before I scoop him up into my arms bridal style.

I never apologise for fucking anything.

But I just apologised to this kid for touching him.

His squeak is more of surprise than terror, and I thank god for my long legs in that very moment as my steps eat up the floor to the exit. It takes me awhile to realise that I am speaking to him the whole time.

“Calm down, Jae. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere safe, Jae. Just calm down.”

I don’t know if the words are for his or my benefit as I walk out of the sports complex completely, and into the bright sunshine.

I drop him onto the nearest picnic table, his breath is coming in short gasps, and I can see the panic in his eyes. I back away immediately, hands up.

“I had to get you out of there. I didn’t think you’d want the whole class seeing you have a meltdown.”

His eyes suddenly spark, and he pulls my jacket from his mouth. I can see the remains of blood on his top lip, but it doesn’t distract from his mouth as I struggle with the sudden bolt of lust that shoots through me at the sight.

“I wasn’t going to have a meltdown.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

And for the second time in less than twenty four hours, I strip off my shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you something to wear. Don’t look down, but your teeshirt has some blood on it.”

I watch his freeze, his mouth parted in dismay and that fucking little moue is once again tormenting me.

Why the fuck does he have the mouth that he has?

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

I know what he means though. Fucking hell, I’m wondering the exact same thing myself.

“You…I’ve heard about you. Even the teachers are afraid of you. Why are you so nice to me?”

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t know?” I ask as I toss him my shirt. I’m wearing a teeshirt this time, not just a singlet and my jacket has dropped from his shoulders. I retrieve it, putting it on quickly, only to find the damn kid pouting at me.

I really don’t get it.

Meltdown one minute, affronted the next, and then pouting sulkily after that.

Maybe he really is on a boy version of the period.

“Wipe your nose.” I say, trying to distract myself from his pout, and he squeaks in response, probably at being reminded he was bleeding not ten minutes ago.

He uses the collar of his teeshirt to wipe his nose and upper lip and I can see him wince with each touch.

“Do you want me to check your nose?”

“No, it’s ok. It only glanced off my cheek and bumped my nose lightly. I think my nose started bleeding because it was already injured from yesterday.”

“You are one strange kid.”

“Stop calling me, kid.” He huffs as he takes a deep breath, before pulling off his teeshirt quickly. He is wearing a singlet underneath and it rides up, and I am suddenly accorded an interesting view of toned abs and rock hard nipples.

Fuck.

Alright, fine. Not a kid. Not a kid at all.

“I’ll call you kid if I want. You need to stop crying over everything.”

“I wasn’t crying.”

“Whatever.”

He frowns at me, before hopping off the table, dropping his soiled teeshirt carelessly on the ground before picking up my shirt. He buttons it up as he turns to walk away, and I suddenly find myself left alone by the picnic table.

The hell?

I start off after him, following till we reach the boys’ locker room which is still empty as gym class is still in session. I watch as he flips the combination for one of them, pulling out his bag, and my hoodie.

Wait a minute.

My hoodie?

And to my amusement, he pulls it on, zipping it all the way up to his neck. He even pops the hood over his head.

“I think you’re wearing more of my clothes than your own right now.”

And the kid has the fucking audacity to scrunch his nose at me yet again and shake his head.

“Nope.” And he pops the P at the end, making my eyes drop down to his mouth once again.

Alright, perhaps I’m giving myself too much credit.

Perhaps I don’t want to protect him.

Perhaps I just want to fuck him.

All this effort for a fuck? Really, Jung?

But I am reminded exactly why fucking isn’t on the menu when he steps away, the back of his head banging against the metal door of the locker.

I didn’t realise that I’d lifted my hand to his mouth, almost touching him.

Almost.

“I haven’t forgiven you for that,” his voice is quiet, as he stares at me, and I can see a tinge of apprehension in his eyes.

“For what?”

“Touching me.”

“Not kissing you?”

“N-n-no.”

Now this is interesting. He is angry at me for touching him, but not for kissing him.

“What do you mean?”

“I…uh…” And he blushes all of a sudden, and I smirk at the sight. The boy really is beautiful.

However, we are both interrupted by the shrill ringing of the bell. I grab his bag, tugging him along with it as we exit the locker room quickly and head out. He doesn’t relinquish his hold on his bag, and I don’t relinquish my hold on it either as I drag him in the direction of my locker. Students are starting to pour into the hallways and I can feel his steps faltering. I turn, and take in his now ashen face, as he stares all around him in growing horror.

I stop, and he almost bumps into me, but manages to catch himself in time.

“Stick with me, and I promise no one will come anywhere near you.”

I don’t get any acknowledgement that he’s understood my words, but the wild look in his eyes dissipates slightly. I turn, my hand still on the strap of his bag, tugging him along, and he follows without a word.

True enough, the entire student body practically stay plastered to the walls, all watching slackjawed as I stalk down the hallways towards my locker, dragging Kim Jaejoong along in my wake. I catch sight of my brother along one hallway and the bastard has the cheek to wink at me. I ignore him, moving till I get to the hallway where the junior lockers are.

I stop by my locker, and he lets out an exclamation.

“What?”

“Your locker is next to mine. I always wondered why no one seemed to use it…and now I know why.”

He drops his bag at our feet, and turns the dial on his locker, popping it open. I catch sight of the helmet within it and frown.

“Why do you have my helmet?”

“Oh. Uh…your brother… He uh…told me to look after it.”

Meddling asshole. But really, there was only one reason I’d given him a ride to school, and that reason is blushing so beautifully in front of me right now.

I grab my bag out of my locker, and before he shuts his, I tell him to grab the helmet.

He turns even redder, if that is possible, but he complies.

When I turn, every single eye in the hallway is on us. A glare here, and a sneer there, and everyone starts shifting uncomfortably, looking at the floor. I bend over to grab Jae’s bag, and once again head down the hallway with Jae coming up behind me, clinging to his bag that I’m using as a lead.

And as I promised, no one comes anywhere within a foot of him.

We stop by the cafeteria so I can heat up the container I pull out of my bag. It is actually the only thing in my bag as I’m not really in the habit of carrying my school books around.

Just as it was before, practically every single eye is on us. As we wait for the microwave to finish, Junsu appears with his very own posse.

Seriously, what’s with jocks? Changmin used to walk around like this as well, and Yoochun, even without being a jock has his own fucking harem of males and females wanting a piece of him.

“Hyung, you ok?”

“Y-yes.”

“Is he bothering you?”

I growl in disgust, turning around to glare at the little runt. Xiah Junsu may be the soccer darling, but the boy is at least a good four inches shorter than me.

“If I was, do you really think you could do anything about it, Xiah?”

“You can’t take on the whole school, hyung.”

“Hyung? I’m not your fucking hyung.”

“And I’m not a rude asshole. You’re older than me, and therefore you are my hyung.”

Before I can retort, my ever-meddling brother sidles up, stepping between us.

“Anything the matter here?”

“Fuck off, Micky.”

“Ah, the usual then.” Yoochun smirks, turning to Junsu. To my surprise, he reaches out and pats the younger boy on the cheek. To my everlasting amusement, the soccer captain flushes at the touch and steps back.

“I told you I trust my brother, didn’t I? Don’t you trust me anymore, Su-ah?”

“I…I…yeah, I guess.”

“Good, now come and have lunch with me. The memory of Jaejoong’s kimchi jiggae is going to make everything here pale in comparison so I’m going to need a lovely distraction from the bland food. Indulge me?”

As he speaks, my brother moves away from us. Both Junsu’s and his own posse move with them, and most of them throw glances back at us as they do.

“Is your brother for real?”

I turn to see Jae eyeing the large group now moving away from us. I retrieve the container from the microwave and use my free hand to tug on the bag to get Jae moving.

“Micky? Yes, he’s a greasy fucker. How do you think he became school president? He could probably charm the virginity from the mother superior.”

Jae chokes, and an odd sound escapes his throat. It takes me a couple of seconds to realise he is laughing.

We walk out into the bright sunlight, and clearly most of the student body has the same idea as all the picnic tables are occupied. I head towards one, ready to scare everyone off, when Jae stops short, tugging at his bag.

“Let’s sit under the tree over there.”

I look over to where he is pointing, and find that it is the tree that is closest to my parked bike. Well, that would make out getaway a lot easier. I nod and change direction.

We both settle under the tree, and I open the lid of the container. The smell appears to surprise Jae because he stares at the container and than back at me.

“Did you save this from last night?”

“Are you crazy? I finished that last night. My dad and brother brought this back for me last night but I didn’t realise they did till this morning.”

“Is it good?”

Now it’s my turn to stare open mouthed at him. He actually seems serious, his eyes earnest and a little shy as he asks his question.

“Good? Did you not taste your own food?”

“I was going to eat with you…” he trails off, and falls silent, and I remember what happened last night. I don’t want to apologise for what happened, and so I speak instead.

“Well, you can eat lunch with me now then. I forgot to bring a second set of utensils though. Do you mind sharing?”

He shakes his head, and his cheeks flush with colour once again.

He looks too fucking cute.

Which really truly sucks for me.

How did I manage to find the one boy so completely averse to touching?

Lunch disappears far too quickly for my liking. I cannot help the moans I make as the kimchi jiggae tastes even better today than it did yesterday which I find incredible. I vaguely recall Jae trying to explain why this is so, but it’s really too much domestic mumbo jumbo for me.

“I’m leaving now if you want to come.”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“Well, you’re welcome to be the little goody goody. Just remember to give the helmet back to my brother. The ass can lug it all the way home.”

He pouts at me then, and the urge to lean forward and capture that pout is so strong I literally have to dig my fingernails into my palms to stop the urge.

“I’m coming.”

“Not yet,” I mutter under my breath, and he looks up at me, confusion marring his features. I shake my head, resealing the now empty container and putting it back into my bag.

I stand, not bothering to wait for him, heading to my bike.

Get a fucking grip, Jung.

I am astride my bike, securing my helmet when I feel a tentative touch to my shoulder. I stop moving, waiting, and my bike judders once again between my thighs as a second body climbs astride it.

I tilt my head back, and our helmets clack together, a soft exclamation escaping my pillion rider.

“You need to try and stay away from my helmet ok? If you want to talk, tilt left, and I will tilt right.”

He nods, clacking our helmets together again, and he makes another sound.

“Give me your bag, Jae.”

He obeys without protest, and I sling it across my body again just like before.

“Hold on.”

This time, his touch is a lot more sure than it was yesterday, immediately slipping around my waist. Interestingly, he slips his hands into the pockets of my jacket. This really isn’t the safest way to ride, but we aren’t going very far, and I find that I like his instincts.

I start my bike, and take off without a backward glance at the school.

By the end of lunch, the news has spread throughout the school that Jung Yunho is dating Kim Jaejoong.

I get that news from my brother via text as I hop off my bike, with a beaming Kim Jaejoong in tow, his eyes bright and shiny, his face flushed and blooming with health from the brisk ride in the cold wind.

It is so far from the truth it is almost laughable.












AN: I’m not feeling myself today. Like, I feel kinda detached and it probably translated into my writing, IDK cos I didn’t re-read but I wanted to write cos I feel awful and writing makes me feel better somehow so this chapter may be a little off so be kind if you’re reading this. And I think it’s kinda obvious but I don’t actually like writing Jaejoong’s POV lol.

As usual...you can get me here:
Anonymously via ask.fm/jungyunwhore
Succinctly via Twitter @JungYunWhore
Lengthily via email beeswaxing87@gmail.com
Graphically via my tumblr ask or submission boxes beeswaxing.tumblr.com

  • 1
  • 1
?

Log in

No account? Create an account