Rating: PG-13 for now
Genre: AU, fluff
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 here
Summary: Nothing has ever fazed him in his life. At 29, he is successfully self-employed, and doing something he loves which means going to work should really be enjoyable. What is that saying? If you work in what you love, you will never work a day in your life? This would be true if not for just one doe-eyed problem…
AN1: I should be shot for how much amusement I got from Yunho’s pain…
AN2: No killing happens in this chapter! I'm sorry I lied hahahaha but you can blame my muses!
Technically, Yunho doesn’t have to go in to work today. He had purposefully given himself the day off several weeks ago, because of the back to back jobs. And yet, here he is, dragging his feet towards the entrance of Mirotic. Changmin has a full day today if he remembers rightly, with a couple of breaks, this being one of them.
It is lunchtime, and Jaejoong should have been “working” for a good four hours now.
Yunho frowns at the thought. Why didn’t he protest harder? Yes, Changmin has a 25% stake in the business but he has the rest so surely he could have nipped this in the bud?
He pushes open the door, strangely disappointed at finding Nicole sitting at the counter eating a steamed bun.
Changmin is on the couch, an array of various takeaway packets strewn out in front of him as he munches thoughtfully on a fried dumpling.
His gaze sweeps the room, looking further back to where the client rooms are, noting the wide open doors and the lack of movement from within them.
“Looking for something?” Nicole asks, her tone a little snide.
“You mean someone.” Changmin’s tone is equally snide.
Yunho grunts, letting the door slam shut behind him as he steals an open container with a pair of chopsticks in them, feeding himself the rather spicy ramyun, ignoring the protests behind him as he enters his workspace.
He usually does not allow food back here, but he is hungry and really doesn’t want to deal with his two supposed friends out there.
And besides, doesn’t he have a new employee who can clean any spills anyway?
Yunho sucks on the ends of the chopsticks, as is his habit. He tongues his lip ring, as the spicy heat from the noodles finally hits his tongue. Changmin likes spicy food but this is ridiculous.
But he truly is hungry, and though spicy, the ramyun is delicious and he keeps eating as he surveys the room. Nothing has changed since yesterday, though his stool has been moved to the corner of the room for some reason. He frowns, as he stares at the innocuous piece of furniture sitting in the wrong place.
“Where are my noodles?”
Yunho’s hand freezes.
Nicole’s cackles are thoroughly unwelcome, as is Changmin’s laughter.
“Hyung! Don’t you think you ordered enough food? Why did you have to steal my noodles too?!” An indignant young voice, rings out behind Yunho, and the owner of Mirotic pivots slowly on his heels to face his tormentor.
So he is being fanciful, but seriously, the kid is nothing but a walking torture implement.
Wrong word. Wrong, wrong, wrong, word.
Yunho shakes his head, his vision unfocused, finally coming back to him.
And he really should have stayed blind.
What did he ever do to deserve this kind of pain?
The boy is a vision, mouth so red and rosy that Yunho can see it all the way from where he is standing. His hands are on his hips, glaring huffily out at Changmin who is still laughing, his gaze about as deadly as an angry kitten.
Yunho watches as Jaejoong moves, leaning forward to snatch his Taiwanese pearl milk tea drink from the coffee table. His mouth is pursed unhappily, as he pokes the thick straw between that red pout.
An extremely unwilling moan is ripped from deep in his throat as he watches the teenager suck up his drink rather determinedly. That full pout is exaggerated thoroughly around the fat straw, and Yunho takes a step back as his pants tighten much too quickly.
He is not just fucked.
He is more than fucking fucked.
He might as well get started on his prison tattoo on his bare arm because at the rate he is going, prison is exactly where he is heading in the next, oh, ten minutes?
Knowing Nicole, she probably already has her finger on the dial.
Yunho grits his teeth as he watches the teen practically mouth fuck his goddamn drink. He takes an absentminded sip of the bowl of noodles in his hand, as his thoughts swirl darkly, only to be pulled rather painfully from them by the burn in his throat.
Three heads whip around as a rather spectacular coughing fit interrupts Changmin’s mirth. Jaejoong squeaks in shock, almost dropping his drink as he sees Yunho bent at the waist, coughing and spluttering.
But his instincts work quickly, and he thrusts his drink into a surprised Nicole’s lap as he runs into the back room to help the poor sod.
Yunho’s eyes and nose are leaking fluid. He actually can’t see and he is practically deaf. His senses are all dead, killed by the lethal bowl of noodles. Seriously, what the fuck kind of evil noodles are these?
A better question is, what kind of demon eats these noodles?
Yunho’s coughing fit finally subsides, and he slowly regains his senses. He is aware of a warm hand rubbing between his shoulder blades, the touch is not too light, and not too heavy, just perfect in fact, as if whoever it is knows exactly how much pressure to exert.
He manages to croak out a request for water, because the hand disappears, and Yunho is belatedly regretful for it. The comfort that hand brings is cathartic. If this is Changmin, he will never ever admit it to the man though.
Something pokes at his lips, and he parts his mouth without opening his eyes. He realises it is a straw, and he sucks gratefully, the milky drink soothing his burning mouth and throat better than water ever can.
He finds himself with a mouthful of chewy balls, the starchy texture and bland flavour helping to calm him down as he chews.
He starts to choke again, and the drink is quickly pulled away as a small hand thumps him squarely between the shoulder blades.
“Yunho! Yunho! Are you ok? Yunho!”
Yunho gives up, squatting and then sitting on the floor, hunching over as he coughs. He can feel bits of masticated tapioca pearls hitting his bare arms as he coughs but he doesn’t give a fuck. Honestly, he’d be more than happy to cough his fucking lungs out if it means he doesn’t have to look up.
That little hand, so annoyingly warm and comforting is still rubbing him between his shoulder blades, gently patting every now and again and Yunho seriously just wants to wrench himself away and start running.
To run the hell away from the little demon.
Yes, Jaejoong is a demon. He has to be. There is no other explanation for what has just transpired in the last five minutes.
Or is it ten?
Yunho no longer has a sense of time anymore, his coughing subsiding.
The hand never goes away, even though he is breathing somewhat normally although his breath is still a little labored from the exertion.
“Hyung,” a sardonic voice twisted with amusement calls out from the doorway. “Are you done with your Oscar winning dying performance yet? Your little butterfly is about to explode from worry.”
The hand is immediately pulled away, and Yunho can hear the indignant huffing the teenager is making next to him as he stands up. He doesn’t go far though, and a quick peek reveals unfamiliar boots over dark wash jeans next to him. The shoe size is too small to be Changmin so it can only be one other person.
“Fuck off.” Yunho growls out, still determined to keep his head down. What he cannot see can’t hurt him right?
Well, god has decided that it will be exceedingly fun to bless him with an acute sense of smell, now that his throat is no longer burning.
Yunho’s next breath is filled with the scent of cinnamon hot chocolate as the teenager crouches down next to him again, his hand now rubbing the small of his back, speaking in a quiet voice.
“I’m sorry my noodles tried to kill you, but you really should learn not to steal my food. If you wanted to kiss me, you should have just asked.”
Steal his food? The demon noodles belong to the teenager?
Of fucking course they do.
Wait, back the fuck up.
Laughter washes over him as Yunho’s sense of self-preservation clearly goes missing as he lifts his head.
He blinks into the light, his vision clearing as he sees a thoroughly amused Shim Changmin and Nicole whatever-the-fuck-her-last-name-is smirking down at him.
“What the fuck?”
“Did you miss what he said? Shall I repeat it?” Nicole asks, taking a step forward so she can lean back against Changmin who wraps his arms around her, his cheek against her temple.
“Shut up, Nic.”
“I told you he was a grumpy ass.” Nicole grins as she looks over at something next to him.
Someone who is still rubbing his back, and it’s making Yunho’s skin tingle.
But for the fucking life of him, he cannot seem to move away.
“I think I liked grouchy bear better,” a soft voice remarks. His age is apparent in his voice, and he is so close Yunho can practically feel his breath.
He can most definitely still smell him, and he dares not turn his head because the memory of those red pouty lips wrapped around—
“Fuck!” Yunho exclaims, squeezing his eyes shut.
“The hell, hyung?”
“All of you just get the fuck out. Nic, bring me a mop and bucket. Everyone else just get the hell out of my work room this instant.”
Yunho can sense that nobody is moving to do his bidding. Jaejoong still has his hand on him, though he is no longer rubbing. He can hear Changmin and Nicole chuckling.
“Do I have to fire all of you before you actually listen to me?”
The hand disappears quickly, and Yunho feels the soft brush of fabric against his bare arm as the teenager stands up.
“You heard him. Let’s go.”
“Your butterfly has teeth.”
“Shut up, Minnie.”
Yunho’s eyes pop open at that, watching just in time as Nicole runs out of the room laughing gaily as Changmin chases after her. Something black catches the edges of his vision and he sees Jaejoong walking out after them.
His eyes widen though as the teen reaches the doorway.
“Where did you get that top from?”
Jaejoong pauses, before turning to look over his shoulder. His eyes meet Yunho’s dark almond eyes, so dark they are almost black.
“Noona gave it to me. I forgot to wear a top under my jacket.”
“You for— nevermind.” Yunho bites out, turning away from the teenager as he gains his feet.
“Did you want anything else?”
Thankfully, he did not say that out loud.
At least he doesn’t think he did.
But the teenager is gone, and in his place, a pink-cheeked white girl with bright blonde hair and eyes full of mischief.
She drops the mop and bucket before running off, and out of the office, followed closely by Changmin.
What the fuck?
Yunho has not spilled much of the soup, having taken a rather huge and painful mouthful, but the mess is still there to be cleaned up. He goes to pick up the bucket, only to find the goddamn thing empty.
“NIC FUCKING HOLE!”
And instead of the blonde minx, whom he knows is well out of hearing range, a doe eyed beauty appears in the doorway instead.
“She went out.”
“She went out.” Yunho mimics unhelpfully, causing a furrow to appear in the beautiful boy’s forehead.
“Why are you so grumpy?”
“Why the fuck do you think? That shithead brought me an empty bucket. What am I supposed to clean the floor with? Piss?”
“Well, it is more than 95% water.”
“What?” Yunho tries not to gape at the teenager who shrugs delicately. His shoulders are so fucking pale. Does he not go out into the sun?
“Piss. Urine. It’s more than 95% water. If you have a healthy diet, your piss is likely useable as a water substitute. People drink their own urine when trapped in a collapsed building.”
“We are not in a collapsed building.”
“Oh, I know,” the teenager continues blithely. “I just thought it was an interesting fact. I wonder what piss tastes like. Have you tasted piss before?”
Yunho closes his eyes and takes a deep fucking breath.
He is not in his work room talking to a kid about drinking piss.
He is not.
He is not.
Maybe if he says it often enough it will be true.
“What do you think my piss will taste like?”
Yunho opens his eyes, grabs the stupid fucking bucket, and marches out of the room, pushing past the impossible doe-eyed teenager, eyes blind as to where he is heading but he just keeps going.
He needs to get away from that impossible kid.
“Do you think he’s ever coming out?”
“He already came out, honey. His preferences are no secret.”
“Huh?” Jaejoong blinks confusedly at the blonde who is frowning rather ferociously at her laptop screen.
He is sitting among the couches, sorting through Changmin’s piercing paraphernalia. Apparently, something happened the previous week and his supplies had all arrived jumbled up. It’s been hours since Yunho stormed out, filled his bucket or whatever, and then stormed back into his back room and shut the door with a slam of finality.
Jaejoong had tried knocking on several occasions but all he’d gotten was a muffled fuck the hell off.
That really isn’t very nice.
First the man steals his lunch, then his drink, and now this?
Jaejoong pouts, leaning back against the nice clean cushions, fiddling at his piercing absentmindedly. The Chrome Hearts tank top is really much too big on him, and he has both his arms within the body of the top now as he scratches at his chest.
“Stop playing with yourself.”
The teenager is jerked from his reverie by a smirking Changmin, just in time to see him get a punch to the gut from his girlfriend.
At least Jaejoong thinks Nicole is his girlfriend.
He watches with a slight smile as Changmin moves to wrap his arms around the long-legged blonde from behind, hauling her off her seat as she kicks and shrieks in protest.
Changmin throws the flailing woman onto the couch next to Jaejoong, narrowly avoiding hitting the teenager who starts to chuckle.
“You two are so weird.”
“Weird?” Nicole questions as she rightens herself, sending a mocking death glare at Max, as she brushes herself off. Honestly, Max and Yunho treat her more like one of the guys and the rough housing is normal. She is somewhat used to it, and Max more than makes up for it at home. She gives as good as she gets anyway, especially with the annoyingly smirky piercer. Yunho? Not so much, though the older man doesn’t really have a tendency towards random violence anyway, unlike the neanderthal.
“Yeah, weird. I think you two fight as much as you hug.”
“When you get a little older, you’ll understand.”
“I’m old enough.” Jaejoong purses his mouth petulantly.
“No, you’re not, kid. You’re jail bait.”
“But I have a letter of consent!”
Both adults stop, stare at each other and then burst out laughing. Their laughter is obnoxious and thoroughly raucous, and it goes on for a good long while.
At least a good long while in Jaejoong’s opinion as he stands up in a huff, annoyed at being laughed at. He heads towards the back rooms, shrugging off Changmin’s arm to his shoulder, the piercer still howling with his mirth. Was it really that funny? Jaejoong doesn’t think so.
He is just at Yunho’s door, when it is suddenly jerked open and an annoyed man is standing before him.
Yunho doesn’t see the teenager at first, shouting down the hallway at the two idiots laughing their asses off to shut up. He is topless, his jeans slung low on his hips, exposing every single letter of the only words on his body.
That’s the one that Jaejoong normally only sees a quarter of, and on one occasion, half. But the top button of the man’s jeans is undone, and he finds his eyes staring in fascination at the word, slightly obscured by the downy hair trailing down from the man’s belly button into parts unknown.
Music suddenly pumps out of the speakers, indicating a break as the shop is closed for an hour.
Changmin’s second break of the day.
He watches as Yunho moves to retreat back into his cave, and Jaejoong unthinkingly sticks out his foot to stop Yunho from slamming the door shut.
But he does slam the door on his foot, and the sudden shock of the impact brings a strangled yelp from the teenager.
Yunho yanks the door back open to find the teenager in a crumpled heap on the floor, whimpering as he massages his foot.
But the first thing Yunho sees are the bruises on his knuckles.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Jaejoong looks up, tears of pain fill his eyes, but not a drop spills as he stares at the fuming bear glaring at his foot. Why the hell is Yunho angry? Shouldn’t he be the angry one? His foot is probably broken now, or at least, squashed beyond repair.
“You broke my foot.”
“Your hands.” Yunho grits out, taking a deep clean breath before squatting down next to the teenager. His lungful of air is tainted with faint cinnamon and hot chocolate.
Jaejoong is still massaging his foot. His boot absorbed most of the impact, but there is an actual dent in the footware, and his foot is smarting within the confines of his shoe.
But he is very well and truly distracted from the pain, as a broad and bare shoulder, covered in ink, is but inches away from his face.
“Your fucking hands. What happened to them? And don’t lie to me because I know what they look like.”
“Hands? What about my hands?” Jaejoong blinks owlishly at Yunho as he takes a deep breath, and is hit by the heady masculine scent of the older male. This is so much better than the tank top. He may or may not have been happily burrowing his nose into the top every chance he gets, to the point that Nicole had commented on it. He licks his lips, his mouth suddenly dry as he takes another sniff.
Yunho turns just in time to watch the dazed teenager lick at his lips. He grits his teeth, closing his eyes and praying for strength, before opening them again.
Only to be faced by a very moist pout pursed in his direction.
Jaejoong is apparently done with the licking.
Now he’s on to the killing.
“What the fuck did you do, hyung?”
Yunho has never been more grateful for his dongsaeng than in that very moment.
Jaejoong on the other hand, wants nothing more than to punch the piercer. He glares up at the remorseless man, finally understanding the pleasure Nicole seems to get from assaulting him.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“He broke my foot.”
Two voices answer, both saying completely different things.
Nicole reaches them just in time to hear the responses, and she kneels next to Jaejoong to look at his foot. Her hand moves like a flash, smacking Yunho in the chest as she exclaims over the very obvious dent in the teenager’s boot.
“Don’t hit him!”
Three pairs of eyes turn to the now annoyed teen who is glaring at the blonde girl.
“Noona, it was my fault. Don’t hit him.”
“Jae, I could punch him with all my strength and it probably wouldn’t hurt him.”
“It hurts me.”
Dead silence as the adults absorb his words. Jaejoong huffs, as the music changes, scooting slowly backwards as the adults continue to stare at him, and at each other. He gets clear enough of the tiny circle of people to try and stand, using the wall as his prop.
He gains his feet slowly, almost rolling his eyes as the adults are still silent. Seriously, what is wrong with older people? Unnecessarily noisy at times and then weirdly quiet. He forgets briefly about his foot, leaning all his weight on it, exclaiming in dismay as sparks of pain ricochet up his leg.
Yunho moves quickly, catching the teenager just before he hits the ground.
“Seriously, what the hell is the matter with you?” he growls.
“You. Broke. My. Foot.” Jaejoong says slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile. He is in pain and feeling extremely put upon now.
“Hyung, you should check it out.”
“Take him to the couch and have a look. You’re the only one qualified around here.”
Yunho takes a quick step back, shaking his head, letting go of the teenager who slumps against the wall.
“You take him to the couch.”
“I have a bad back.”
“Nic, you do it.”
“You’re fucking crazy. He might be a skinny teenager, but he’s taller and broader than me. There is no way in hell I can carry him.”
Jaejoong grunts in disgust, pushing away from the wall, hobbling slowly past the bickering adults. Seriously, these are the adults? Why does he feel older than them all a sudden then? Each step sends pain shooting up his leg, and he is starting to wonder if he really did break his foot.
He gets about three steps when he suddenly loses his footing.
And finds himself being grimly carried to the couch.
Very, very grimly.
Yunho looks as if he’d rather be a dung beetle and roll poop for a living than carry him.
Jaejoong voices his observation, which makes Yunho stop short, just by the couch.
“You say the damnedest things, do you know that?”
“What? It’s true. I think you’d rather be carrying poop than me.”
He can hear Nicole and Changmin snickering from somewhere behind him but he doesn’t bother with them, his eyes focused on the unsmiling countenance of the grouchiest bear who ever lived.
“First piss, and now poop? I’m starting to think you have issues.”
“Should I talk about blood next? What about saliva?”
Yunho shakes his head, as the laughter grows around them. Changmin even asks what piss is he talking about but he is definitely not answering that question.
“No? What about semen? Sperm and semen are not the same thing, did you know?”
Yunho drops Jaejoong onto the couch like a sack of hot potatoes, beating a hasty retreat. He should have fucking known that was coming.
Fuck his life. How long is this supposed to go on? It’s barely been a day and he is already ready to never return to work again till summer is over.
His pants are already tented, and he really fucking hopes nobody noticed as he slams the door of his work room shut.
“You are truly something, kid.” Changmin is still shaking his head in bemusement at the audacity of the teenager as he sits at the opposite end of the couch to take Jaejoong’s boot off to check his foot.
“I’m not a kid.”
“So you say, but your age says otherwise.”
“Age is just a number.”
“That’s what old people say,” Nicole laughs as she nudges the teenager upright, sitting where his head was and then coaxing him to lie back in her lap.
“And a prison cell is just a room.” Changmin quips, shaking his head as he pulls off Jaejoong boot and sock.
“No one’s going to prison!”
“Jae, you do know you really are jail bait, right?” Nicole asks kindly, running her fingers through the teenager’s dark hair. She pulls out his bobby pins as she goes, scratching lightly at his scalp as he purrs in her lap.
Jaejoong closes his eyes, pouting ferociously even as he moans happily at the ministrations of the blonde noona. He can feel Changmin prodding at his foot, but oddly, the pain has dissipated almost completely. Maybe the contrast between the pleasure of getting his head scratched is counteracting the pain of his foot. Who knows?
“I’ve got permission.” He mumbles, eyes snapping open when Nicole’s laughter jiggles his head too much. “Don’t laugh, you’re giving me a headache.”
“Kid, you have permission to work here, nothing else.”
“How do you figure that?.”
“My mother got married at seventeen with permission. My noona was born five months later.”
“Oh god,” Changmin groans, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter as he drops his chin to hide his face. He’d always thought Jaejoong’s crush was cute, but now he is starting to feel sorry for his hyung. The man’s jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, especially with the top button unpopped, and Changmin definitely caught sight of the obvious boner. He knows Nicole hadn’t noticed otherwise she’d probably be crowing about being right already.
“You want to marry the bear?” Nicole asks a little incredulously. Gay marriage has definitely not reached the shores of South Korea, and even she as a girl, and able to marry whenever she wants, has never felt the inclination. Jaejoong is only seventeen. Perhaps things are different here.
“He doesn’t like me so what’s the use of talking about it?”
Jaejoong voice is tiny and morose as he deflates like a balloon. It is well and good to have permission but if Yunho looks like he prefers to be a dung beetle than to even touch him then what chance does he have?
“He likes you just fine, kid.” Nicole answers, ignoring the violent head shaking Max is doing at the other end of the couch. “He just really sucks at showing it.”
Jaejoong’s eyes pop open as he tilts his head back to look at the pretty blonde girl.
Like Changmin, Nicole has absolutely no immunity against those gorgeous doe eyes looking so hopefully up at her. In that instance, had Jaejoong asked her for anything, she has a feeling that saying no is not an option. But in the depths of those guileless dark eyes, she sees true innocence in the teenager.
Yunho really is screwed.
In every single way imaginable.
AN1: Lol the rubbing back thing was actually how a colleague described me rubbing her back. She said my husband must love my touch because I know exactly how to rub a back so warmly and soothingly lmao!
AN2: The drop in comments amuses me up btw :P Everyone always comes out of the woodwork to tell me to keep writing, and when I do, everyone disappears back into their mouse holes XD Y’all are funny. Also, cos I posted ch2 about 18 hours ago, I can't post it to the comms yet so if you see this on your timelines, just retweet/reblog.
AN3: Also, I need everybody’s help. Please make a prayer circle and chant with me… SHORT FIC SHORT FIC SHORT FIC SHORT FIC SHORT FIC SHORT FIC SHORT FIC… because the last time I said it, I think ICE happened… OTL