Rating: PG-13 for now
Genre: AU, fluff
Warning: Super-mild underage shenanigans. Like so super that really, even if you squint you might not see it. I can't see it myself but eh. Protecting my own ass is a good thing.
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: Short chapter is very short…
AN2: Someone sent me this and I had to use it cos I died...and well, I have no idea how to crop out the black parts so i'm sorry for ruining it but hnnnnggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!
Yunho is a light sleeper, but surprisingly, he found himself able to sleep right through the night despite the extra occupant in his bed. Having never had “sleepovers” before, all previous relationships being kicked out of the apartment, or off towards the other end of the bed at the end of any “fun” activities, he is more than a little disoriented to find himself staring at the back of a pair of red boxers with the ubiquitous Hello Kitty head plastered all over it.
He rubs the sleep from his eyes as the owner of said pair of Hello Kitty boxers disappears into the bathroom. Yunho is sleeping on his belly, and the smell of cinnamon hot chocolate envelops him like a second skin as he moves across to nuzzle into the kid’s pillow.
Does the kid sweat the stuff or something?
He can hear soft groans and grunts of pain coming from the bathroom, and he drags himself out of bed to investigate. It is just past six in the morning, his alarm meant to go off in about twenty minutes. He turns the alarm off as he pads barefoot to the bathroom, stretching his sore and aching limbs as he walks. He had slept a little awkwardly, curled up around someone else, and his body is unused to the unnatural position.
The reason for the noise is clear, as he approaches the open bathroom door. He can hear Jaejoong muttering to himself as he stops just short of the door, remaining out of sight of the sole occupant.
“How am I supposed to pee like this? I’ve never peed like this. Is it possible to pee like this? It hurts way too much for it to be possible to pee like this. I’m not a girl, but I think I’m going to have to pee sitting down otherwise I might accidentally hit something. Oh god, why won’t it go down? It usually goes down. I hate having sisters.”
That last line startles Yunho who has been trying not to laugh. He is in pretty much the same state as the kid, but he has no pressing need to relieve himself and thus, will be alright for now.
“What do your sisters have anything to do with your morning problem?”
He hears a sharp gasp, and a crash, and it sounds as if the lid of the toilet had been slammed down abruptly.
“Are you alright?”
“Don’t come in!”
“I’m not coming in, but you sound like you need help.”
“I’ll be alright,” comes a choked voice, and Yunho has to shake his head.
“Why did you say you hate having sisters?”
Silence, though Yunho can still hear shuffling and a grunt, and the creak of the toilet lid being lifted again.
“If I had a brother I could call him and ask for help,” Jaejoong finally answers, his voice is suffocated with mortification, and yet, his boner refuses to die. He is wishing all kinds of death on it right now because he is about five seconds from peeing himself in the face.
“You could ask me, you know?”
“You’re my…my…my boyfriend. It’s too embarrassing. Oh god please let me die right now.”
“Don’t be silly, Jaejoong.” Yunho chuckles which does not go unheard by the teenager in the bathroom who growls agitatedly at him. Once again, Yunho has this vision of an angry kitten and it makes him grin. “Which way are you pointing?”
“I’m not answering that!”
Yunho smirks as he lounges against the wall, more than prepared to stay there for the whole duration. He slips his hand into his boxers, giving his own cock a cursory squeeze before pulling his hand out and crossing his arms over his chest.
“If you pee on the floor, you’re cleaning it up.”
“I hate you.”
“Why would hate me when I’m trying to help you?”
“How is telling me I’m cleaning up my own pee helping me?”
“Well,” Yunho drawls lazily, “I was hoping it would urge you to take my assistance.”
“What kind of assistance are we talking about here?” Jaejoong asks warily, his voice filled with trepidation. Ok, so boyfriends do things right? But he’s new at this. The whole giving away of his V card yesterday is definitely something he has to rethink especially after coming up against…against…what the hell was that? A torch? A microphone? Yes, definitely a microphone.
He wants to hold onto his card for awhile thank you very much, no matter how good Yunho smells and tastes. So he might have licked the man while he slept. No one’s going to find out right? And isn’t that what boyfriends do?
He must have been sleeping on cloud nine last night (also known as Yunho’s body) because he woke up fully rested with a full bladder and an aching cock. He had been extremely relieved to find Yunho sound asleep. He had been half sprawled over the man, drooling rather unbecomingly on his collarbone and down his neck. While cleaning it up, Yunho had turned onto his belly, pinning him under an arm and then some.
Extricating himself had taken at least five minutes of wriggling, and he had prayed fervently for the alarm not to go off the whole time.
But thanks to the close proximity of the man, his heady scent and the taste of him that is still on his tongue, the teenager is unable to get his morning problem to disappear. If anything, it is worse than ever before.
And yes, whatever it is the man is hiding in his pants, Jaejoong wants the entire two weeks he has as his boyfriend to think about it. He has half a mind to start calling that thing Yunaconda. The dragon tattoo is a dragon anyway, and this seems closer to a large snake.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, kid. I’m not coming in. Are you still pointing up?”
“H-how did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” is the amused reply. “Just sit down on the toilet, and open your legs as wide as possible with your ass as far back as possible.”
“I am going to die,” Jaejoong’s voice is dire indeed. His entire body is mottled red with mortification, embarrassment, and a good and healthy dose of misery. Not to mention, his thoughts have made his cock harder yet again so he is really in no position to argue or ignore Yunho’s assistance.
So he does as he is told, flinching as his ass meets the cold seat. He opens his legs as instructed, his ass so far back he is practically climbing the toilet seat.
“I’m still pointing…uh…up.”
“Now lean forward as far as you can go. You should end up pointing into the bowl. You might need to hold it and make sure it doesn’t shoot over the rim of the toilet, but you’ll be alright.”
Jaejoong does as instructed, pleasantly surprised to find he doesn’t need to bend that far before he can use his hand to push the head of his cock down without it hurting, so that it will hit the bowl instead of shooting him in the face.
The sound of a very relieved jet of water hitting the toilet bowl brings a lazy smirk to Yunho’s face. The urge to poke his head round the corner is strong, but seriously, the likelihood of getting a face full of piss is also pretty strong, and he can pass on that.
Their completely inappropriate conversation about piss strikes him just then, and he shakes his head in amusement. The kid can nonchalantly talk about tasting piss, and yet he is clearly mortified about his pissing problem this morning. How can one person be two extremes?
The fire hydrant is still going on in the bathroom, and he is honestly, really tempted to peek at the kid.
Instead, he stretches against the wall, arching at against it before bending over to touch his toes. His own morning erection is far from over, perking up considerably during his conversation with the kid. He is in no mood to question that as he heads back to bed. They don’t open till noon today, but he has shit to do, though for some inexplicable reason, in the dawn light, he finds himself unable to give any fucks about work for the moment.
A warm bed beckons.
And an even warmer body will be coming back to join him in said warm bed.
Why would he want to go anywhere?
Oh yeah, that warm body is seventeen.
Yunho slides into bed, wondering if he has time to jack off quickly before the kid comes back.
He decides to check.
“Are you coming back to bed?”
A messy head pokes out, that pale skin is still tinged red, and that rosy pout as pink as ever. The cute wrinkle in his brow and the confusion in his doe eyes completes the picture of youthful innocence.
“Don’t we have to go to work?”
Yunho smiles as he leans up on an elbow. “I commend your diligent work attitude, but it’s barely six in the morning and we don’t open till noon.”
“I thought you said you had to work early? I was going to make you breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
The furrow deepens and Jaejoong comes out of the bathroom, his erection forgotten though Yunho hasn’t.
His eyes drop briefly to the wet patch and the outline of a very delicious looking breakfast, before quickly darting back up to meet those pretty doe eyes.
“I thought you knew I cooked? All those meals I bring were all homecooked by me.”
Now it’s Yunho’s turn to forget their erections as he sits up, eyes showing his surprise. “What? I thought it was all cooked by your noonas. You mean to tell me you cooked all those meals that Changmin literally has dreams about and Nicole actually physically battles with me to finish? That bulgogi and kimchi jiggae is yours? And the kimbap that I swear has a secret ingredient that makes it nicer than any store bought kimbap I’ve ever eaten. Or the tonkatsu? And the curry udon? Even that simple omurice that tastes like heaven? All you?”
Jaejoong nods sheepishly, suddenly shy as he wrings his hands.
“But I need to cook.”
“You don’t need to cook, Jaejoong. You only cook if you want to cook. Which brings me to my next point. Don’t tell Changmin.”
“Why?” Jaejoong approaches the bed slowly, turning his body slightly as he suddenly remembers the state he is in. The only reason he doesn’t bolt is because Yunho’s eyes are firmly on his, never straying as far as he’s noticed.
Yunho reaches out as Jaejoong finally gets within grabbing distance, tugging the boy down and smiling at the surprised squeak he lets out as he lands heavily across his lap. He kisses the boy lightly on the forehead, becoming increasingly amused as Jaejoong gapes at him, and then proceeds to turn as red as his cherry lips.
“Because if Changmin finds out it is you who did the cooking, he will do one of several things. One, convince me to let you out of working at Mirotic so you can cook him meals all day. Two, potentially tell Nic to learn how to cook from you which will end disastrously, I can guarantee it. Three, tell Nic to get lost because he wants you to move in. And four, try and either steal you or buy your favours from me despite the possibly dire consequences of his attempt because the man loves food like you wouldn’t believe and he’d be willing to try anything.”
“You’re exaggerating!” Jaejoong manages, after processing Yunho’s rather impassioned and hilarious monologue because the man actually counts out on his fingers, and gesticulates to emphasise his points. In fact, he narrowly misses swiping Jaejoong off his lap at the end of his speech, trying to show exactly how far Changmin would go. One thing does stick in his mind more than anything else though, and he voices it, as he lays a hand atop Yunho’s heart.
Both the inked, and the real, beating one.
“I can’t be stolen or bought.”
“Everyone has a price, Jaejoong.” Yunho answers half seriously, though he meant it to be teasing.
Jaejoong shakes his head as he looks into his lap, playing with the edge of his boxers that have ridden up rather alarmingly with his other hand. “Not me. I’m yours, just as you are mine.” He looks up, gazing into the deep almond eyes and seeing his reflection in them, smiling wistfully at himself. “Aren’t I?”
The mood suddenly turns from light hearted to something else. Something Yunho cannot put a finger on. He is fully aware of the kid’s palm resting lightly on his chest. The touch is almost featherlight, barely any weight behind it, but Yunho feels branded. It is not the electricity of their attraction and mutual frustration. But rather, the moment is almost as if something has shifted in his mind.
If he says yes, he cannot go back.
Yunho has never ever claimed anyone as his own, apart from his mother. And even then he has to share her with his father. In fact, he can’t really even call her his.
No one is here to witness their exchange, but Yunho is a man of principle. As much principle as he can have really, in the face of the temptation that is Jaejoong. The boy’s innocence baffles him. And it intrigues him. And at the same time, he doesn’t ever want anyone to rip it from him, which is why he is planning on having words with the boy’s vile teacher. He wants to rid the boy of his innocence, and yet at the same time, he wants to make sure he keeps it somehow.
He doesn’t know what he feels, because feelings are complex. There is too much to consider, and too much to clarify before he even lets feelings get involved. And he has always been taught that feelings cloud any and all issues.
Even as a martial artist, he is taught to remain calm in the face of anything. To look death in the eye, and be prepared to take his enemy head on. And to do that, you have to remain calm, separate and absolutely devoid of feelings.
Yunho is a master of his craft.
A master artist.
A master pugilist.
He would have also been a very fine doctor, but his background caught up with him there, which led to the unfortunate need to withdraw before completing his studies. He hated his father for it then, but after almost two years of being at Mirotic, he is slowly letting go of the resentment he has for who he is.
He doesn’t need feelings to answer the question.
But he does need to know if he is ready to face the consequences of his choices.
The boy is seventeen. Practically a baby.
”He is safer with you, than without you.”
Jaejoong lets out a soft sigh as he pulls his hand back. Yunho, as usual, takes much too long to answer, and Jaejoong, as usual, speaks without thought.
Maybe it’ll hurt less when he gets used to it.
Yunho can have anyone he wants in this world. Jaejoong has spent almost two years watching both men and women throw themselves at the older man. Why would he want a skinny seventeen year old who doesn’t even know what pussy means when he can have someone more worldly, skilled in flirting and engaging in conversation where the other people don’t end up laughing at them.
He hates being laughed at, but he ignores it, because what else can he do? No one ever bothers to answer his queries when asked why they are laughing. They just laugh even harder. Jaejoong gave up asking a long time ago. Even his sisters don’t answer him, but he knows it isn’t because of spite, but rather to protect him. There’s protection, and then there’s protection. He doesn’t need this kind of protection.
Yunho, Changmin and Nicole all laugh too, but he senses the truth in their words when they say they are laughing at themselves. Any and all explanations he has ever gotten for his words have come from these three adults.
He swallows a groan as he remembers the teabag one in particular. Though really, he is a hundred percent certain it’s not as bad as the pussy one. At least he is reasonably sure most of his peers have no clue what teabagging is, but pussy?
Why is he so damn stupid?
Why would Yunho want a silly, stupid teenager like him?
He can feel the tears pricking his eyes, but Yunho has a firm hold of him. Too firm, and he cannot go anywhere. He bends his head, staring resolutely at his lap, trying to fight the tears.
But as it is with everything in his life, he loses.
A droplet lands on Yunho’s forearm, jolting the man from his thoughts, and he stares at the dark bent head in surprise and confusion.
“Are you crying?”
Jaejoong shakes his head, but all it does is dislodge more tears, and a couple more drops land on Yunho’s arm.
“You’re not a liar, Jaejoong. Don’t start now. Why are you crying?”
Jaejoong tilts his head up, his wet eyes holding a hint of anger as he glares at Yunho. “I can’t even cry in peace now? Everyone laughs at me, everyone makes fun of me, and now I can’t even cry without getting told off for it? No one tells me anything, so why do I have to explain everything?”
Yunho ignores the pang he feels at the hurt in the boy’s eyes, knowing the reason for it is in part, him.
There is no Nicole to drop a squirming kitten in Jaejoong’s lap.
There is no Changmin to tease the boy into distraction.
There is only Yunho.
“You are mine, Jaejoong. Whatever hurts you, hurts me, so yes, you do need to tell me why you’re crying so I can go beat some sense into the person.”
“Are you just saying that because I’m crying?”
“Do I look like the type who would say stuff I don’t mean? Tears don’t do a thing to me, and you would know that if you’ve watched me for as long as I think you have.”
The man has a point. Yunho is impervious to the whiny crying of the various females that have crossed the threshold of his office. In fact, the rather good natured man turns absolutely frosty, simply leaving the side of said crying female and ordering Nicole to deal with it.
Now that he thinks about it, the man’s tone is definitely one you wouldn’t defy. And even Nicole, the queen of being contrary for the hell of it, obeys.
He manages a watery smile, as he remembers the rest of Yunho’s words. “You’re going to have to beat some sense into yourself then.”
So it really is his fault.
“What did I do?”
“You took too long to reply,” Jaejoong answers honestly as he leans into the man. “I’m so used to people saying no that I thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt anymore. But it still does. I don’t cry in school, I just ignore, and pretend I’m somewhere else. Usually, I pretend I’m back at Mirotic, watching you sketch a new tattoo, playing with the different shades. I like watching you sketch, because it feels like I’m seeing the real you. Seeing you do something you love. You almost never put your designs on any of your clients, giving them stupid hearts and banal stuff like that, and sometimes I want to shake them and tell them that you are so much better than a stupid heart and arrow, but I couldn’t. Even your cherry blossoms are more beautiful than the real thing. I cried the day you changed your workstation around, and your sketching table was moved so I could no longer see it from the couch. It was possibly the worst day of my life. I stayed at Mirotic for only an hour because I couldn’t hold in the sobs. I told hyung that I had a stomachache.”
Yunho wants to speak, but he finds that he cannot, as the soft, pliant body of the teenager molds against his harder, more unyielding frame. He had not realised exactly how stiffly the teenager had been holding himself till that moment. The way the boy’s body literally sinks into his is both comforting, as it is discomforting.
He is also trying his damnedest not to react to how closely the teenager had been watching him. Jaejoong is right. He is his most honest in his art. And his art has taken on a very distinctive touch of innocence in the last several months, as he battles with himself for daring to want to taste such innocence.
“For the first few weeks, I thought you would kick me out. You always looked at me like I was this annoying thing that really shouldn’t be there. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, not saying anything, not drawing attention to myself, and I guess it worked because you never told me to leave.”
Jaejoong starts to draw random patterns into Yunho’s forearm, tracing the dragon that henceforth, shall no longer be called Yunaconda because he has found a better candidate. He tucks his forehead against the side of Yunho’s neck as he continues speaking softly.
“Hyung used to talk to me, asking if I’d eaten, till I decided that if I brought food, he’d stop asking. I was trying to be invisible, but he wasn’t helping. It’s so easy to be invisible in school, but I stick out like a sore thumb in Mirotic.”
A smile tugs at Yunho’s mouth, and he doesn’t resist the urge to turn and press his lips against the boy’s forehead. He hears Jaejoong’s sigh at the contact, and the boy snuggles closer, wriggling in his lap, his hand stroking up and down his arm now rather than tracing his tattoo.
“Weeks turned into months and then months turned into a year, and then I guess here I am. Am I really yours?”
Yunho is getting used to the teenager’s habit of changing the subject so abruptly. He squeezes the teenager gently, before replying. “You are mine, for as long as you want to be.”
“Don’t you have a choice too?”
“I already made my choice, Jaejoong.”
“What if you don’t want me anymore but I still want to be yours?”
“There are consequences to every choice I make, Jaejoong. I don’t undertake them lightly. You will be mine for as long as you want to be. My choice in the matter will not change.”
“Are you mad at me for putting you in such a spot?”
Yunho stares at the rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, nuzzling against the boy’s forehead. The boy is being honest, he should probably return in kind.
“I considered you mine months ago. I just didn’t know it.”
Jaejoong has no idea how to react to that little nugget of information. He is starting to feel warm and cold at the same time all over again. And so as usual, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Like Jiji is mine?”
“You’re not a pet, Jaejoong. You’re a person.”
“But I like being petted and cuddled like a kitten.”
“I don’t think our kitten liked that very much. I seem to recall him punching you in the mouth last night.”
Jaejoong is feeling much, much too happy at our kitten to take issue over the other words. He may have let out a tiny little happy squeak, and he is more than ok with Yunho laughing at him about that, which the older man does.
“So, do you want to go back to bed, or are you going to make me get up and face the world?”
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you shirk your duties on our first official day?”
“I thought you’d say that,” Yunho grumbles, smiling as the teenager giggles.
“Actually, I just want to check on Jiji. He’s been alone all night. Can he sleep with us for a bit?”
“Only if he’s done his business and you wipe his ass. I’m not having smelly kitten ass all over my sheets.”
Yunho is a little startled at the speed in which the boy leaves his lap, kissing him soundly on the mouth, but not letting him savour it, before he disappears like lightning out the door.
Though not just any teenager.
AN1: I’m kinda digging writing short chapters. I didn’t want to, but this came to a natural conclusion, and forcing it to merge with something else just to make the chapter longer didn’t sit right.
AN2: Thank you for your well-wishes everyone. I just fall sick easily, and it’s not really within my realm of control in this case so yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be alright ;-)