beeswaxing (beeswaxing) wrote,

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The Tattooist [12b]

Title: The Tattooist
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG-13 for now
Length: Chaptered
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: Officially the longest chapter ever for this fic, and I wrote most of it in the last 12 hours lol! Like 85% of it at the very least… I AM IN PAIN OH MY GOD... Whimpering...

AN2: Please thank be_ddelusionall for the gif...


“You’re staying?”

“Unless you want me to come up.”

Jaejoong eyes drop to Yunho’s crotch, before making its way back up. “Uh, you’re not wearing underwear so maybe not.”

Yunho smirks, reaching over to cup the boy behind his neck and pulling him for a quick kiss.

Yes, quick.

It is a mere brush of lips and highly unsatisfying, but Yunho knows if he gives an inch, this teenager will most certainly take a mile. As it is, Jaejoong is already pouting yet again. The boy manages to convey a myriad of things through a pout, and Yunho is still learning how to read his language.

“Was that supposed to be a kiss?”


“No, it wasn’t.”

“Oh?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow. “Are you an expert on kisses now?”

“Just kisses with you.”

“You’d better only be kissing me, kid.” Yunho growls as he pulls the boy into a slightly deeper, marginally more satisfying kiss, but there is no tongue, and he pulls away just as Jaejoong’s tongue sneaks out to touch his lip.


“Your noona is waiting.”




“Damn it, Jaejoong. Can you please obey me for once?”

“Obey? I’m not in school.”

“And you obey your teachers in school, do you?”


“Jaejoong, please. Just go. I’ll be waiting here. If you need me, just come back down and get me, ok?”

“You’re not leaving, right?”

Yunho shakes his head, cupping the boy’s jaw, losing himself in those mesmerising eyes as he gives in and pulls the boy in for another kiss. A soft kiss, his hand tempering the kid’s eagerness, stroking his cheek with his thumb. He allows Jaejoong into his mouth, and he nips at the boy’s questing tongue before pulling away again.

Their foreheads are pressed together and Jaejoong is struggling to draw a steady breath. Yunho, on the other hand, is perfectly fine, and the teenager notices this.

“Why are you not panting?” he grumbles in between huffs and puffs.


“I need more practice then. Can we practice some more?”


“Yunho…” the boy mimics him perfectly with a serious face and soulful eyes.

“The quicker you get your things, the faster we can get home.”

Jaejoong sighs morosely, knowing this is true. “Why can’t you come with me?”

“I can, but I haven’t heard you ask. Though I have to remind you, I’m not wearing underwear and I really don’t want to offend your sisters.”

Jaejoong’s draws further back, eyes dropping to Yunho’s lap, and his body explodes in warmth at the telltale bulge. He is sporting his own, but he is also wearing Yunho’s shirt which practically skims his thighs so he can hide his. There is definitely no hiding Yunho’s though.

“Uh…ok I think you should stay.”

“I thought so,” Yunho smirks as he settles back properly in his seat. His arm is extended over to Jaejoong’s seat, his hand caressing the back of the boy’s head.

Jaejoong stares out at the partially full parking lot towards the lift lobby. He takes a deep breath and nods, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to the corner of Yunho’s mouth, wishing for a moment that the lip ring was on the right side of his mouth than left, before pulling away and exiting the car quickly.

Yunho watches the kid, thumbing his lip where the boy had kissed him. That quick chaste kiss is affecting him more than he cares to admit. The boy really is impossible.

He is still touching his mouth when he senses movement out of the corner of his eye. Jaejoong has just entered the lift, and closing on him quickly are two men in suits.

They could have just been random people trying to catch the lift, but Yunho recognises them for what they are and he is out of the car in a heartbeat. These men are either stupid or suicidal, and Yunho has a feeling they might be both.

He calls out in Japanese, hoping the teenager will not recognise his voice and keep the elevator door open.

The two men turn quickly, hands reaching in for what is presumably their guns, but another four voices ring out in Japanese.

“Don’t fucking move.”

Yunho is relieved to see the elevator door close, as he walks out from by his car to stand in the middle of the parking lot. His expression is mild, friendly even, but he is absolutely seething inside. He senses the other four men closing in from other parts of the parking lot, but he doesn’t even bother to spare them a glance, knowing full well they have their own guns trained on the two men now standing against the wall with their hands up.

For once, he is thankful for his father’s continued close watch over him. He knows that there is always at least one man following him anywhere in his life, and for there to be four means his father got his message.

“Are you so foolish that you dare to approach him?”

“Wh-who are you?”

“Who I am is none of your fucking concern. I want to know who you are, and why you are after that boy.”

The silent one, perhaps the more foolish of the two, sneers, spitting in Yunho’s direction.

Retaliation is swift as one of Yunho’s men moves quickly, pistol whipping the man hard across the face.

The crack of a broken nose is loud, but the man’s silence is even more telling.

“I see you are not a lowlife.” Yunho’s expression hardens as he moves swiftly to approach the two men. Blood is pouring from the nose of one, but his expression is anything but compliant, while the other looks like he is about to wet himself. “I hate repeating myself, but it appears that you are hard of hearing.”

He pauses, as the man with the bleeding nose tries to sneer once again, but his broken nose gets in the way, and what comes out is a pained grimace instead.

The other man looks back and forth between his accomplice as well as the gun-toting men standing behind this tall man who only has a tattoo down one arm. And even then, it doesn’t look like a full yakuza tattoo, the lower half of the dragon does not cover the man’s skin in its entirety. But despite that, the men who clearly obey him are a hundred percent yakuza. He knows because he recognises at least one of them.

It is really unfortunate his friend hadn’t, otherwise he would not have opened his mouth. Their oyabun owes tribute to the oyabun of the Yamaguchi-gumi, of which the man he recognised, is a member of. Kazuo Taoka had been extremely unimpressed by their oyabun’s attempt to cut into his territory, and it is only Taoka’s goodwill, and the fact that his first wife is a cousin of his oyabun that the man was spared.

But the man owes him a life debt for sparing his clan instead of crushing them like he could have, and allowing him to continue his operations. However, the price of their lives is a tall one. They had been practically driven out of Japan, forced to operate in Korea and in China to a lesser extent.

As for the boy, they had been ordered to pick him up by any means necessary, the son of his oyabun’s former right hand man. A man who had run off with his teenage daughter. Apparently, the man had been spared because the oyabun loved his daughter, but the man wants his grandson.

And so here they are.

But who is this man?

He has a horrid feeling about this. The man he recognises is a mere underling by the way he defers to the furious man staring daggers at them. Oh the man is furious all right. His expression betrays nothing, but he is radiating malevolence. One wrong move, and he has a feeling that both he and his partner will not live to see the sunrise. By any means necessary did not take into account the fact that representatives of the most powerful yakuza family in the world is currently standing between them and the boy.

“Why do you want that boy?”

“I recognise one of your men as being of the Yamaguchi-gumi, and thus, you must be of them too. I offer my apologies as we did not realise we were on your territory. We were under the impression that we controlled most of Seoul, including this area.” The non-bleeding man starts, trying to warn his friend with his words to shut the hell up. He feels the other man freeze at his words, his breath quickening. “If we were mistaken, please accept our sincere apologies. We were told to pick up the boy and that is all.”

“Who is your oyabun”? Yunho demands. The fact that only one of his men is recognised is not at all comforting to him. It just goes to show exactly how far off the grid these Korean yakuza have gotten to. These men are undoubtably Korean, and while that is not a mark against them, they have clearly been recruited from within Korea itself, and thus are possibly not quite aware of their transgression. They probably work in isolation, and since the man claims to belong to a clan that operates in Korea, there can only be one candidate and Yunho wants to hear the name, because surely the man knows better than to fuck with him.

The man repeats the name, stammering slightly as Yunho’s expression becomes even more deadly.

“He dares to fuck with me?”

Both heads bow, the two men knowing they are as good as dead. They have no idea who this young man is, younger than any high ranking yakuza they know, but the derision and contempt in the man’s voice is enough.

“You do not know who I am, do you?” Yunho continues when the two men fall silent.

Both shake their heads.

“I am Kazuo Taoka’s youngest son.”

The two men drop to their knees instantly. They are more than fucked. They had just gone after Kazuo Taoka’s son’s lover. And not just any of his sons, but the youngest one. The man with the bleeding nose is praying hard, thankful his spit had not touched Yunho because if it had, he might as well forget about tomorrow. The man’s tattoos are legend, and even though he has never seen it himself, the punishments etched into his skin would cause even the hardiest of men to flinch.

And yes, they know who the boy is in relation to this man, having observed the two in the car. Another yakuza might be alright to deal with but touching any of Taoka’s family members means certain death. And if not death, a long drawn out torture whereby you’d desperately hope for death to end the pain. The man’s intolerance for anyone fucking with his family is legendary. To some oyabun, they consider it a weakness the way the man protects his family, but none are strong enough or brave enough to challenge Taoka on this. A kidnap attempt on his oldest daughter over twenty years ago had resulted in one of the biggest bloodbaths in modern gang times. The authorities had stayed well clear of it because it wasn’t an issue of national security. Taoka had simply wiped out half a clan overnight. In fact, he had probably done the police a favour as it was one of the more unsavoury families who still dealt in street thuggery and drug trafficking, something the Yamaguchi-gumi does not tolerate.

“I am going to ask you one more time, now that you know who I am. That boy is mine. Why does he want him?”

The possessive pronoun is not lost on the two men who keep their heads bowed. They have nothing to lose either way. Returning empty handed with the news that they have just pissed off Taoka’s son will mean certain death. They are dead no matter how they look at it.

“He is our oyabun’s grandson. We do not know what he wants to do with him, only that he seeks him in return for his father stealing away his daughter over thirty years ago.”

Of all the answers in the world, that is one of the most unexpected answers to Yunho. He knows what this particular yakuza family deals in, and the thought of Jaejoong being associated with them makes his lips curl in distaste.

Not at the kid, but at the fact that they want to get their hands on him. That family is known to deal in human trafficking, tricking unsuspecting Chinese girls into coming over to Japan and Korea to work as call girls. He does not even want to consider why the man wants Jaejoong, grandfather or not. That man is not like his own father, and he knows the man had killed his own son not too long ago over a business deal gone bad. If he wants to groom Jaejoong to be his successor, the man has another thing coming.

Yunho is not going to let evil touch his innocent teenager.

He turns to his four men, snapping out orders in Japanese.

All four nod, and move to hook their arms underneath the two men on their knees. A black van pulls up immediately behind Yunho, and he knows for certain his father knows. His phone rings just as the door shuts on the pales faces of the two Korean yakuza.


“I’m guessing you already know then, son.”

“They talked.”

“What would you like for me to do? It isn’t every day my wayward son calls home to ask for help and you have to forgive this old man for being a tad gleeful about it.”

Yunho rolls his eyes as he heads towards the bank of elevators. He has left Jaejoong alone for long enough. These two men are gone, but he doesn’t feel relieved enough to continue to leave the boy out of his sight.

“And you just reminded me exactly why I don’t call.”

“Your time away has made your tongue insolent, son. Watch your words for your tattoos might protect you from the world, but they do not protect you from me.”

“Yes, father.” Yunho grits his teeth as the empty carriage arrives, and he steps into it. “I might lose you for a moment. I just entered the elevator.”

“To pick up your companion?”

Yunho rolls his eyes once again, as he leans against the back of the elevator. His father has a very weird way with words.

“To pick up my boyfriend, yes.”

“You’re lucky you’re my youngest and I adore your mother more than normal, Yunho, because otherwise you know I would forbid this.”

“Yes, father.” He’s heard this before. The man seems to enjoy reminding him that the only reason he’s allowed to be bisexual is because he allows him to be.

“I can hear that insolence creeping in once again, son.”

“I’m sorry, father.”

“I really doubt it.” The man chuckles. He enjoys toying with his youngest son. The man is more like him than any of his other children, and so very like his mother that the man has no choice but to love the boy. His only child out of five who dares to defy him. The boy falls in line when he must, though Yunho had pointed out once that he is not being blindly obedient like his siblings, but that he is merely complying out of respect.

And the oyabun knows this for a fact especially considering how often the boy actively disobeys him.

Yunho reaches his destination, exiting the elevator onto a floor with four doors. He can hear a lot of rather loud female shouting from one of them and he rolls his eyes once again and heads that way. If the boy’s sisters are anything to go by, Yunho definitely has his hands full with the teen.

“Father, are you still there?”

“I’m always here for you, son.”

Yunho ignores the tug he feels at the man’s words. His background has given him far more grief than joy, and he lays the blame solely on his father’s head and his need to expand and cut down everything and anything that gets in his way. His family are spared, but just barely, and Yunho really wants no part of it. He full well knows his father had hoped to pass on the reins to him, but he has told the man unequivocally that if he does, Yunho will tear it down immediately.

He had only been eighteen then, and after that rather spectacular showdown, his mother had decided that perhaps sending the boy away to find himself would be a much better idea. She had always wanted him to be raised away from the suffocating life of being the oyabun’s son, and this was as good an opportunity as any and she snapped it up in a heartbeat.

Yunho quickly recounts what just happened, explaining who is behind the attempt on Jaejoong, unsurprised when his father already knows.

“So what do you want me to do now, son?”

“Can you make sure he doesn’t touch Jaejoong? I don’t want that filth anywhere near him.”

“You don’t exactly come from an angelic background either.”

Yunho clenches his fist, knowing full well what his father says is true.

“Don’t get all hung up about it. I can see you clenching from all the way over here.”

Yunho automatically looks around, trying to find a camera, and his father laughs in his ear.

“And don’t go looking for a camera. The only reason I knew about those twins is because I have access to the CCTV in your office and I have people who can read lips. I just know you, son.”

“About those twins…”

“I know, I know. Your mother has given me enough grief about it.”

Yunho finally smiles at the uncharacteristic grouchiness in his father’s voice. And he is really starting to get a complex when the man calls him out on his smiling as well. Really, there’s knowing someone and then there’s just being outright creepy about it. It is no wonder nothing ever gets past the man, because Yunho hasn’t lived with him in over ten years and yet his father can still read him like a book.

Over the fucking phone.

“I’ll deal with Machii.” The man finally relents, telling his son what he needs to hear. “But I will let you decide their fate. The family is small and are nothing but an annoyance with their unsavoury dealings. I can terminate their existence, or I can let them live. Know that I hate looking over my shoulder, and I don’t want you to have to do so either.”

“The man is still the kid’s grandfather. I’m not that heartless.”

“And you’re implying that I am?”

“Everything is a business with you, father. If it makes sound business sense to terminate, you would not have asked my opinion. The only reason you’re asking is because you don’t care either way. They don’t register on your radar, and so you are giving me the opportunity to man up I guess. And like always, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

“You have never been a disappointment, Yunho.” The old oyabun utters softly, opening himself up extremely uncharacteristically. His son’s beloved mother moves over to sit next to him, her eyebrow arched in question as she takes his hand. He smiles faintly at her as he continues to speak. “You are impossible to control, but you have never been a disappointment. I’m sorry about medical school. I know you had your heart set on it, and I’m sorry your background interfered.”

Yunho’s face is impassive, completely unsure how to react. His father has never ever apologised to him. Hell, he has never heard his father apologise to anyone, except perhaps his mother when he pisses her off. He had been more than angry over the medical school debacle, and in all honesty, he had finally admitted to himself that the university too was at fault, and not just his father, and so he gives the old man something in return.

“It wasn’t entirely your fault. I’ve made my peace with it, father. I’m happy where I am.”

“And the boy?”

“He is part of it, yes.”

“He’s a little young isn’t he?”

“Jailbait.” Yunho grimaces as his father laughs loudly in his ear.

“Like father like son then, eh? It would be sweet revenge indeed if the boy turns out to be just like your mother.”

“Why is that? Mother is nothing like him.”

“You say that now, but you did not know your mother thirty years ago. The most wilful chit I had ever had the misfortune of knowing.”

“You must tell me this story one day.”

“When you return home with the boy before the summer solstice. You will have the story then.”

“So is Machii’s future still in my hands?”

The old man sighs loudly, carding his hands through the boy’s mother’s hair as she lays her head in his lap. The woman is still like an affectionate kitten even after all these years, and he would have it no other way.

“No, son. I’ll decide and leave your hands free of blood. I will spare the man, but I think I will make sure the Korean authorities are indebted to me by cleaning up his organisation. I have a feeling I will need to call in a favour or two if someone decides to turn you in. I cannot have my youngest son in jail, can I?”

“Was that ever a worry?”

“Of course not.” The older man scoffs, making the woman in his lap smile serenely up at him. “But there is no harm in a little insurance. You know how I work, son. I leave absolutely nothing to chance, and especially not when it comes to you.”

“And the boy.”

“Yes, and the boy. I must admit, I am intrigued by the teenager. You never seemed the sort fall lightly, and it sounds as if you’ve fallen rather hard.”

“I am still standing.”

“You deliberately misunderstand, and that tells me far more, son. I wish you the life I have with your mother.”

“What of my step-mothers?”

“Touchè. Know this. If I had met your mother first, there would have been no step-mothers.”

“And no siblings, and thus I’d be screwed.”

“You are not a selfish child, Yunho. Apologise.”

Yunho had been immediately contrite the second the words left his mouth, and he takes his father’s chastisement in stride. “I apologise, father. That was uncalled for.”

“Yes, it was. Now go pick up your kitten, and leave me to mine.”

“Too much information, father.” Yunho scowls, as his father laughs, hanging up on him.

He leans against the wall as he pockets his phone. The shouting seems to have lessened somewhat, and he wonders if it is a good time to knock. He watches the door, and is about to push away from the wall when it flies open.

“Jaejoong, you cannot be serious! Unnie, come on! How can you let him move in with a stranger? Yes, we all like the man, but he is exactly that. A man. Joongie is still a boy. You know what happened with his teacher! How do you know this man is not going to take advantage of him? Have you seen his neck? Unnie!”

Jaejoong exits, looking a little worse for wear, pouting as he drags a suitcase behind him. He smiles instantly when he sees Yunho, but then the shrill yelling behind him reminds him of exactly why he is upset. He heads straight for the man, pleased when Yunho quirks an eyebrow before opening his arms and allowing Jaejoong respite within them.


“Hush. That is enough from you. I have raised all of you singlehandedly for three years, have I ever done any of you wrong? No. I am not about to start.”




Eight heads turn, to find Jaejoong smiling as he whispers into Yunho’s ear. Their brother is wrapped around the man, practically straddling a thigh as they confer in whispers. Yunho has his head tilted down, listening intently to the avid whispering of the boy, his lips tugging up into a smile as he strokes a hand up and down the boy’s back. It is a soothing motion, nothing more, and every single female sighs at the sight.

There is nothing predatory about the man’s stance as the shrill sister had feared. Just affection. And she can see that it is her brother that is taking the lead and not the older man. Perhaps it is because he has an audience, but she doubts it. Her brother is one of a kind. Pure and innocent, and they have all tried to keep him as such. But because of this, the boy is guileless, his behaviour is essentially what you see is what you get. He knew enough to get away from the vile teacher, and yet here he is practically plastered against Yunho, and from what they can see, trying to get closer still.

Yunho’s expression suddenly changes at something Jaejoong says and he pulls away, muttering loudly. “Damn it, Jaejoong.”

All eight sisters burst out laughing, startling Yunho who had all but forgotten they were there. His expression is enough for the sole protesting sister to give in. Her Jin Hee unnie does indeed know what she is doing. No one can feign surprise like that, and it tells her that Yunho is just as affectionate and non-pushy with her baby brother in private.

Yunho straightens, but he doesn’t try to push Jaejoong away as most people would be wont to do when faced with the entire family. This speaks volumes, as all the girls see that he is not afraid to be seen with the boy, neither is he ashamed of him. A couple tear up as they watch their brother smile up at the tattooist, eyes shining with love.

In fact, the man wraps his arm around Jaejoong’s slim waist, before bowing a little awkwardly with the boy in tow, and introducing himself.

“I am, Yunho.”

If anyone thinks his introduction a little odd, no one mentions it as all eight start talking at once.

Jin Hee stops, smirking slightly as Yunho’s eyes immediately takes on a glazed expression as he tries to follow seven different voices all saying different things to him. At one point, a neighbour opens his door, presumably to yell at them to quiet down, but one look at Yunho’s forbidding expression sends the man scurrying back inside.

Yunho has no idea how long it takes, but when they finally make their way back down to his car, accompanied by a procession of females, it is almost 10pm. He had felt his phone vibrating several times, but he decided against answering it, figuring it is rude, and if it was his father which he highly doubts, the man would have sent someone up after him instead of ringing a second time.

Jaejoong comes with one large suitcase and five boxes of assorted things. The boy has a lot less clothes than Yunho had expected, and he vows to rectify it immediately. As the younger seven sisters all cry and kiss their goodbyes, Yunho pulls Jin Hee aside.

“The matter has been dealt with, but I will still make sure each of you has an escort. They will stay out of sight, and you won’t even see him. I’ve had one for years and don’t notice him so if I can’t, you won’t either.”

“Is it really necessary? Is Joongie safe?”

“He is more than safe, noona. Don’t worry about him.”

“And what about you? Are you safe?”

“I was never in any danger. I don’t know how much you know about me but my father made certain that to touch me, would mean pain to whoever did it.”

Jin Hee smiles softly, shaking her head. “No. I meant from Joongie. Are you safe from him?”

Yunho pauses, unsure as to what the woman means. Or perhaps he is sure, and he does not want to acknowledge it.

He glances over at the now crying teenager hugging his sisters as if he is never going to see them again. He rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Jaejoong, come here.”

The teenager looks up, eyes wet, and immediately pushes past his sisters to get to Yunho.

The older man thumbs his tears away, stroking at the cheeks still filled with a little baby fat. The boy is adorable, and a little heartbroken. “Babe, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to alright? I’m not going anywhere, and you’re safe now.”

Jaejoong shakes his head immediately, sniffling as he drops his head onto Yunho’s shoulder which elicits a chorus of awwwww from his sisters, making Jin Hee roll her eyes this time.

“T-t-they c-ca-can v-v-v-visit us r-r-right?” Jaejoong asks in between sobs.

Yunho thumbs away more tears. “Of course, kitten. They can visit us whenever they want. I still need to get Ahyoung tattooed. You can hold her hand.”

A surprised squeak from within the gaggle of girls, and then Ahyoung herself pushes forward, her doe eyes wet. “You remembered, oppa?”

“Of course I do.”

She blushes in pleasure, twisting the hem of her pyjama top in her fingers. “Can I…can I come in next month? I would come in sooner but I don’t have any money at the moment. Jin Hee noona won’t let me work while I’m at university, and this is my final year. I already have a job lined up and I can pay you with my first pay check.”

“Ahyoung…what kind of brother would I be? There is no charge.”


“I’ll hold your hand, noona.” Jaejoong pipes up, smiling as he snuggles against Yunho’s side. He is feeling ridiculously happy at being called kitten, and Yunho had done it in front of his sisters. Though truly, he is far happier at Yunho referring to himself as their brother. He feels happy enough to burst into song.

Jin Hee on the other hand is finally tearing up. She knows her sisters do not understand the significance of what Yunho has just stated so simply, but she does.

He considers them family.

“Come on, girls. Unlike you lot, Yunho and Joongie both have to work tomorrow, isn’t that right?”

Both males nod, smiling slightly as she hustles all her siblings to the side apart from them.

“One goodbye each. And then, we let them go.”

She gestures to the youngest to start, and everyone obediently falls into single file which rather amuses Yunho as one after another, they squeeze the life out of Jaejoong before bowing to him. The more adventurous try and hug him, trying to suppress their squeals which makes him thankful that Jaejoong is not as squeaky, as he hugs them back properly. Those who missed on hugs in the first place, come back for a second round, and Jin Hee chooses not to comment, a Mona Lisa smile on her face.

When it is finally the oldest sister’s turn, Jaejoong’s face is once again awash with tears.

“Joongie, please don’t drive him crazy. I rather like him.”

“What if he drives me crazy?”

“Then you have my permission to give as good as you get.”

“Noona,” Yunho’s intentionally laces his voice with a long-suffering tone. “Jaejoong brought his kitten into the office, and the little squirt peed all over my back room, and he made me clean it up. I am already going crazy.”

All the girls laugh as Jaejoong smacks the man, pouting ferociously. But Yunho has succeeded in stopping his tears, and this fact does not go unnoticed by the girls as they bid them farewell.

Jin Hee catches Yunho’s forearm as he turns to get into the car.

“Protect my brother, Yunho, but don’t protect yourself from him.”


Yunho is nursing a beer, listening to Nicole and Changmin chatting with Eryn and Micky. Turns out the buxom American girl knows the crazy man who wanted to tattoo his mother’s face on his body. How they know each other is something that eludes him, but he is content for the company. The idea of getting into bed with Jaejoong tonight is filling him with some trepidation.

He finishes off his bottle, watching as Eryn laughs over something. The girl appears to be able to dial her volume down a notch or ten around Micky. They are an odd couple to be sure, not unlike Changmin and Nicole, but then again he’s with Jaejoong so who is he to cast stones?

The conversation suddenly tapers off into silence, and Yunho leans forward to drop his empty bottle on the table, taking his time before looking up because he knows it has to be his kitten that just killed the conversation.

Rather amazing that no one has started laughing though, so he chances a glance up.

And freezes.

Perhaps his hamster might be a better term.

Changmin cannot believe his eyes. Is the kid for real?

Nicole wants to cry. She really does. She shoots a glance over at Yunho and feels sorry for the man currently gawping at the oblivious teenager cooing at his kitten while he shimmies to the kitchen to grab his milk from the fridge.

The kid is drinking milk. This is too much.

“Is he supposed to be Ebichu?” Micky asks, a little nonplussed, staring at the kid. He had been told that the teenager is with the silent tattooist, and he chooses not to ask anything further because the tall man is rather intimidating.

“Isn’t Ebichu a girl?” Changmin asks, looking at Micky who nods.

“A rather dirty little girl…”

Jaejoong continues back from whence he came from, unaware that he is the topic of conversation as he deposits his kitten into his makeshift bed in a bottom drawer, prepared to fight with Yunho to keep him there. He grabs his toothbrush and skips merrily to the bathroom to get some toothpaste, before coming back out to join the adults as he brushes his teeth.

Yunho is still gawping, and Eryn, sitting closest to him, pats him reassuringly on the back, speaking in Japanese as her Korean is passable at best.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think he’s Hamtaro.”

Yunho groans, dropping his head as his teenaged…hamster…comes back out into the living area, brushing his teeth nonchalantly, smiling around the object in his mouth.

If Jaejoong notices the adults are staring, he makes no mention of it as he pops his toothbrush out. “Shouldn’t all of you be in bed? We have work in the morning. Hyung, your first appointment is at 10 sharp.” He pops his toothbrush back in, brushing happily as he smiles at the bewildered adults.

“Uh, yes. We should probably go.” Micky stands, tugging Eryn to her feet. He wants to laugh. He is dying from the need to laugh, but looking at Yunho’s body language, and even the blonde American’s, he knows it’s probably a bad idea. If Nicole smacks him, Eryn probably would too, followed by the tattooist and he still wants to get a tattoo done by the man so he is going to disappear while he can still control himself.

The short couple beat a hasty retreat, and Jaejoong waves at them, as he continues brushing his teeth.

Changmin and Nicole are next. Changmin’s expression is vaguely worrying to the teenager, the man looks as if he is in pain, as he stands, hauling his girlfriend to her feet.

He pops the toothbrush out once again, unaware of the trail of toothpaste and saliva slowly making its way down the corner of his mouth. “What’s wrong, hyung? Do you have a tummy ache?”

“No.” Changmin manages to croak out. He is dying trying to keep his laughter in, and he knows better than to let it out because Yunho looks close to murdering someone, and Nicole…well let’s just say he has a feeling his girlfriend would make him sleep on the couch if he hurts the boy’s feelings.

“You look a little green.”

“Just sleepy,” he replies hastily, pulling Nicole towards the connecting door. “Very sleepy. We can open tomorrow. You and hyung can sleep in since you got up so early today.”

Jaejoong grins, nodding and accepting the offer as he continues to brush his teeth.

The connecting door closes with a resounding thud, and an uncharacteristic click that causes Yunho’s eyebrow to go up. Changmin has just locked the door, knowing full well he cannot get back into the apartment. What is his dongsaeng playing at now?

Jaejoong is unaware of this of course, gesturing to Yunho to come with him as he heads back into their bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Oh lord, Yunho is definitely contemplating the pleasures and comforts of his large couch. That has to be better than the upcoming torture.

Though in all honesty, the teenager has killed whatever remnants of a boner he had with his one piece Hamtaro pyjamas, complete with hood.

And he has the hood up.

Yunho would cry if he was a lesser man, but he isn’t.

He follows Jaejoong into the bathroom, grabbing his own toothbrush to start his ablutions. He’s already showered, and so it doesn’t take long. And even though he is much quicker this time, Jaejoong is once again a little lump on his side of the bed, buried underneath the covers.

Would it be too much to hope that the kid has lost the cartoon PJs?

But no, of course not. Yunho sighs as he climbs into the wrong side of the bed for the second night in a row. He is too tired to fight over the issue with the cheerful teenager, and he is loathe to pop the kid’s happy bubble.

Jaejoong immediately latches onto his arm, using it like a bolster, practically riding it as he flings a leg out across Yunho’s thighs.


And that, apparently is it.

Yunho stares up at the ceiling, exhausted but unable to sleep. The day runs through his head like a film reel, and he is thankful for Changmin’s offer to open the shop because he knows he is definitely going to need the sleep in. So much craziness in a twenty four hour period.

No, more than that.

Ever since Changmin had hired the teenager, Yunho’s life has been topsy turvy.

But he will never admit that he rather enjoys the turbulence.

He finally closes his eyes at the thought, when he hears a soft mewl.

“Damn it, Jaejoong.” He mutters, but the teenager doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t even flinch.

Yunho lifts his head to look at the teenager, and finds the kid fast asleep. He isn’t pretending, if the gentle even snores are anything to go by. No one is ever good at feigning sleep, and Yunho is sure that Jaejoong far less adept than anyone he’d ever meet. He nudges the boy, and apart from a soft mumbled complaint, the teen simply burrows closer against his arm, and continues to snore quietly.

The mewling continues, and Yunho has a feeling the kitten needs the toilet. He is most certainly not cleaning up pee or poop in the bedroom, and so he starts to extricate himself from the boy’s grasp.

But he underestimates the kid’s ability to latch, as Jaejoong practically follows him across the bed. When he is finally free, the teenager startles him by bolting upright, turning left and right, looking confused, before mumbling something about breakfast, before flinging himself diagonally across the bed, face down.

The kid is still asleep.

Yunho shakes his head, wondering what kind of punishment this is when he has really tried to be good his whole life.

Well, as good as the son of Kazuo Taoka can be.

He rescues the poor kitten, taking it back to the laundry, and true enough he immediately races to the litter box and pees. The whole time, the blue-eyed kitten stares up at him as if saying why do you let him do this to me?

Well, if Yunho had an answer, he’d give the kitten it. He knows Jaejoong’s heart is in a good place. He just needs to explain it to the wee kitten somehow.

And perhaps to Yunho too.

On which planet does the teenager think a onesie pyjamas is appropriate for bedtime with one’s boyfriend?

He sighs as he shuts the door on the now content kitten who is happily back in his usual space.

Yunho heads for his study, suddenly feeling energised and invigorated. He knows he is much too awake to sleep, and so he decides to expend some of that energy.

He goes to the closet in the study, pulling out his hakama. Speaking to his father, has made him miss his Japanese roots, and he puts on the traditional piece of clothing with reverence, emptying his mind and focusing on the significance of his adornment.

Once dressed, he picks up his katana.

Placing both hands underneath the weapon, he lifts it gently, feeling the weight of the sword in its saya. He can feel his muscle memory kicking in, his muscles already twitching at him just touching his katana. The sword is tight in its sheath, and Yunho briefly loses his concentration as he thoughts fly towards the impossible teenager in his bed.

He growls his fury, pushing the boy from his mind as he strides out into his living area, sword in hand.


Yunho must remain in control.

He makes a 360 degree turn slowly in the middle of his dimly lit, spacious living area, in full battle mode as he focuses on the danger at hand and the imaginary enemy.

His enemy is his lust, and his inability to contain it.

He is better than this.

He must fight it.

Yunho starts to move, almost dancing, wielding his still sheathed katana expertly, whipping it around, concentrating on the way the weight shifts in his hand, the handle dancing over his fingers.

He gets used to the weapon in his hand, not unsheathing it just yet as he continues with his rapid movements, using it as he would a stick weapon, for Yunho is proficient in both.

One final spin, and he pulls out the blade, the hiss of steel loud in the silent room as he thrusts it to the east.

He draws it back slowly, eyes focused on a point, as he swings his leg out, turning swiftly to meet his enemy at his west. His focus is absolute, his determination formidable as he launches into a very complicated series of steps, his sword meeting imaginary enemies as he parries, fighting them off from every direction.

The katana whistles in the air, the triple whistle that indicates his swordplay is perfect, and his angles exact.

Yunho goes on the offensive, pushing the enemies back as the area he has control over expands.

He is cutting down his enemies, and he is no longer waiting for them to come at him. He is going to them.

Sweat trickles down his bare back, but Yunho pays no mind, continuing with the intricate choreography that he has mastered, fighting off enemies from all points of the compass.


The whistling intensifies as his movements grow more rapid.

He spins in the semi-darkness, seeing everything, touching nothing.

The katana moves as if in a blur, wielded by an expert swordsman that would be just at home in the days of the samurai, as he is in these modern times. He makes his final leap over the last enemy, spinning in the air before his sword comes down with the death blow, the edge a mere inch from the floor.

“You are magnificent.”

Yunho closes his eyes.


Jaejoong had been woken by the incessant whistling. Finding himself alone, he had crawled sleepily out of bed, only to find Yunho doing a beautiful dance of death. Each time the sword comes down, reflecting in the dim light, he flinches, imagining an enemy being bested.

One after the other, Yunho cuts down everything that comes at him.

The man’s moves are fluid, made even more beautiful by the strange pants he is wearing. The voluminous pants that almost look like a skirt, but on Yunho, it is breathtaking. Each spin is accompanied by the movement of his pants, and it adds to the poetry of his motion.

The whistling sword is a mere accent to an already perfect score.

Jaejoong’s heart quickens with every slice, till Yunho leaps in midair, his breath catching in his throat as the man comes down, as light as a feather, his sword flashing as it descends for the final decisive time.

And then he cannot help but say the words, and even as he speaks them, they seem so very trite in the face of the sheer power of the gorgeous man he can call his own.

The teenager steps forward tentatively, unsure as to Yunho’s mood as the man has not moved an inch since he called out his praise.

Before he can take another step, Yunho suddenly bursts into motion, spinning around as he wieldshis sword and then crouching low, gazing up at Jaejoong through hooded eyes. He is so low, he is almost doing a half split.

Jaejoong lets out a nervous chuckle, feeling the tension in the room. But he cannot run no matter how much he wants to, the electricity prickling at his skin is familiar and yet not. But whatever it is, it holds him in place.

Yunho stares at the boy.


He spins his sword forward, before straightening up, the weapon held loosely ahead of him, but no one should ever mistake it for compliance, for Yunho is getting ready for the fight of his life.

“How fond are you of those pyjamas?”

What a strange question.

Jaejoong shrugs, the tension in the room growing, though it isn’t oppressive. He can barely draw breath but he has a feeling it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Yunho has a sword pointed right at him.

“Answer the question, Jaejoong.”

The man’s voice is commanding, and for a second, Jaejoong wonders if Yunho has somehow switched bodies with a real samurai.

“N-not fond really.” Jaejoong stammers slightly. He is not fearful, but his belly is doing insane somersaults and it is travelling up his gullet and choking his throat.

Yunho smiles.

“Don’t move.”

Jaejoong blinks, just as the blade descends towards him, but he is too stunned to move.

Yunho makes two simple cuts.

Long cuts, from the boy’s shoulder to his knee.

On both sides.

Jaejoong blinks again, just as the material of his pyjamas falls apart at the front.

Yunho’s breath catches, his sword faltering in his hand.


Jaejoong isn’t wearing any underwear.

AN1: Sigh…sometimes I really don’t know what to do with my muses. I don’t write anything, they write themselves. I just help it along :-/ And fuck… Yunho with the katana is just… FUCK.

AN2: Meep…

AN3: Please DO NOT complain about being cockblocked. I wrote 12,000+ words in less than 12 hours and I was working the whole time so yes, please know that I feel as frustrated as you, IF NOT WORSE.
Tags: fic:tattooist, pairing:yunjae, pg-13

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