Home (is Wherever I'm With You)
Title: Home (is Wherever I’m With You)
Pairing: YunJae
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 2,673
Rating: PG
Summary: Sequel to Climbing Mountains. Although it’s been years since five became three and two, and even longer since Yunho and Jaejoong built dreams together only to watch them shatter, it is never too late to go home.
A/N: This started out as a separate piece, but then, somewhere along the way, it just felt right for it to be a continuation of Climbing Mountains. Hope you enjoy c:
*****
“A house is made of walls and beams. A home is built from love and dreams.”
- Anonymous
Yunho’s chest was tight with nerves as he drove the grey sedan, borrowed from the cousin of a friend, slowly towards the building looming at the top of the driveway. Although the light twinkling out from the windows of the house conveyed warmth out into the cold evening air, he wasn’t sure whether that welcome would extend to him on this most unexpected visit. However, Yunho determinedly continued his approach, despite his misgivings, and the tires gradually crept to a stop as he parked the car outside the garage door.
He anxiously adjusted his scarf to rest more firmly around his neck and pulled his toque low over his brow to better obscure his features. After sliding his sunglasses on, he turned the rearview mirror towards himself to inspect his disguise more thoroughly. He eyed his reflection with care, ensuring that all defining features of his face were hidden. Then, with one last tug at his scarf, he deemed himself ready to exit the relative safety of the borrowed vehicle.
His steps were swift as he approached the front door, although not so swift as to attract unwanted attention from anyone who might be watching the house. However, his apprehension increasingly slowed his movements as he neared the doorstep; even though he had practiced what he wanted to say when the door opened, the words seemed to have disappeared from his mind the instant he had left the car. Would they let him inside, or would his carefully planned visit end before it had even begun? Would he be cast out by the house’s owners as he had once cast their son out of his life? He was terrifyingly uncertain, but he knew that he needed to try.
Determined, Yunho took one last fortifying breath and then he knocked firmly on the polished surface of the door.
He waited restlessly in the cool evening air, rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet and listening as a lone set of footsteps came closer and closer to the door until, finally, the lock clicked as it slid out of place.
The door swung on its hinges to reveal an older woman, perfectly poised despite her simple outfit that consisted only of a t-shirt and cotton pants.
Yunho’s breath became caught in his throat, causing him to stutter slightly as he spoke. “Mother - I mean Mrs. Kim,” he greeted her, the more formal name unfamiliar on his tongue, and gave a deep bow. “It’s Yunho, may I come in?”
He looked up hopefully and was shocked to witness a small smile on Mrs. Kim’s face rather than the coldness or anger he might have expected, and thought that he probably deserved, after all that had happened between Jaejoong and himself.
“Are you really our Yunho?” Mrs. Kim reached up and lowered the scarf just enough to caress Yunho’s cheek affectionately.
Yunho found that he could only gaze in shocked silence at the easy acceptance of his presence. A moment later, he realized that Mrs. Kim was looking at him expectantly.
“Yes,” Yunho affirmed, placing his hand over hers. “I’m sorry to have come so late. I - I wanted to see Father… um, Mr. Kim, if that’s alright.”
Mrs. Kim’s smile dimmed slightly, and she nodded her understanding. “Yes, of course, dear. Come in, please, before you catch a cold.”
Mrs. Kim ushered him inside and helped him remove his scarf and coat, despite his protests otherwise. “I don’t want to be any trouble for you, Mrs. Kim -”
“Never, Yunho. You will always be like a son to me, whether you and Joongie are together or not,” Mrs. Kim said as she hung his jacket in the closet by the door. “So, no more of this ‘Mrs. Kim’ nonsense from you.”
Yunho felt tears of gratitude and relief pooling in his eyes as Mrs. Kim pulled him into a tight embrace in the entranceway of the Kim family home.
His home.
With his head buried in her neck, Yunho tenderly whispered, “Mother.”
*****
After eating some food that Mrs. Kim had kindly warmed for him - Jaejoong’s habit of feeding anyone and everyone had certainly been learned at her apron strings - Yunho was escorted down the hall to visit with Mr. Kim.
He followed two steps behind the woman he considered to be his second mother, smiling fondly at the family memories encased in photo frames along the walls. Yunho’s eyes lingered on an especially candid photograph of Jaejoong with one of his nieces that must have been taken shortly after Jaejoong’s return from his military service, if the length of his hair was any indication. The unabashed joy in Jaejoong’s smile that had been forever captured in the borders of the photograph was met with a flutter of his heart against his chest.
He continued to follow Mrs. Kim further into the house. However, when they passed by the stairs instead of going upward, where Yunho remembered Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s room being, he became confused. As if sensing Yunho’s unspoken question, Mrs. Kim turned back and told him: “Father hasn’t been doing well the last few months, you’ve heard some about it I’m sure, but recently the stairs have been too much - we’ve been staying in the guest room near Soo Jin’s room.”
“Ah, of course,” Yunho voiced his understanding as Mrs. Kim approached the room that was previously the guest room and knocked gently on the door before entering. A sliver of anxiety formed again under Yunho’s calm exterior as he entered the dimly lit room.
“Dear, we have a guest,” Mrs. Kim spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her husband and turning off the television that he had been watching.
“Oh? This late? Who…” Mr. Kim trailed off as Yunho approached the other side of the bed.
“Father,” Yunho greeted him with a deep bow that hid his shock at seeing Mr. Kim as he was now.
It hurt Yunho to see that Mr. Kim was no longer the way he remembered - illness had ravaged his body and pain clouded his eyes. Yunho’s heart clenched to see this proud man who was now confined to his bed. He regretted all the time he had been separated from these people whom he loved dearly. They were a part of his family, even though they didn’t share a single drop of blood with him.
Yunho didn’t speak, but instead lowered himself to the sit on the side of the bed and grasped Mr. Kim’s hand in his own, noting immediately that the fingers clasped in his own were chilled despite the pleasant temperature of the room and the blankets swaddled around Mr. Kim’s emaciated form. As Mr. Kim gazed at him thoughtfully, Yunho raised his other hand to gently massage the frail digits, trying to convey some warmth to the cooled flesh.
Obviously feeling the need to provide the two men some space, Mrs. Kim stood and reached over to briefly rest a hand on Yunho’s shoulder while she spoke. “I’ll leave you two to speak in private. I’ll just be finishing up in the kitchen if you need anything.”
Yunho thanked her sincerely and watched her retreating figure until the door was closed softly behind her.
“Yunho,” Mr. Kim whispered at last, looking at Yunho with tired, but contented, eyes. “Our Yunho.”
“That’s right, Father,” Yunho said, “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you so much since…”
Mr. Kim patted his hand reassuringly as Yunho’s eyes became damp and Yunho thought it strange that he was the one who needed comfort when Mr. Kim was the one who was dying.
The two men spoke for several minutes, of things important and also those of little consequence. To Yunho, every moment was precious; however, he could see from the pallor of his cheeks that Mr. Kim was quickly tiring.
“I should go, Father, and let you rest.” Yunho began to rise, but Mr. Kim suddenly gripped his hand more tightly than Yunho would have thought him capable of.
“Promise an old man something,” Mr. Kim spoke hurriedly.
Yunho obeyed the unspoken request and sat back down on the bed. “Of course, Father.”
“Take care of our Joongie, Yunho,” Mr. Kim asked in a serious tone.
“Father -”
“I know the two of you aren’t on speaking terms right now,” Mr. Kim cut him off. “But, even if it’s only from a distance, please take care of him. I know I wasn’t accepting of your relationship at first, but I can’t deny that you’ve always been so good for Joongie… You make him happy, and that’s all that a father could ever wish for his children,” Mr. Kim pleaded sincerely.
Yunho had to close his eyes at the onslaught of emotion that bubbled up at Mr. Kim’s words.
His bittersweet history with Jaejoong, their great love and their even greater breakup, was now being dredged back up in a way he couldn’t ignore. Yunho had tried to prepare himself for it before he arrived at the Kim family home. He had tried to bury the tumultuously swirling emotions deep inside himself. Obviously he was not nearly as successful as he had hoped.
But Mr. Kim, a man he loved and respected as dearly as his own father, was asking this of him. This was his dying wish of Yunho, and Yunho knew he could not refuse it despite the demons it might unleash.
Yunho leaned down to press a gentle kiss on Mr. Kim’s brow as he whispered his promise.
The tears of gratitude in those pain-filled eyes were proof enough that he had made the right decision.
*****
Yunho found Mrs. Kim in the kitchen, preparing what looked like additional side dishes to store for future meals.
“Is everything alright?” she asked as Yunho walked into the room.
“Father is sleeping now,” Yunho said, his eyes still watery from the emotional conversation with Mr. Kim.
“That’s good. Did you have a good talk?”
“Yes, I - yes. Thank you for letting me in to speak to him -”
“There’s no need to thank me, Yunho. This will always be your home, too,” Mrs. Kim said as she embraced him again. “Aigoo, you look exhausted. When was the last time you slept properly?” She leaned back to gaze at him in that appraising fashion that all mothers seemed to possess.
Yunho sighed tiredly and shook his head. “I can’t even remember - two, maybe three days?”
Mrs. Kim clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “That won’t do. Are you busy tomorrow? Why don’t you stay here tonight?”
“I’m free, but I wouldn’t want to impose…” Yunho began, but Mrs. Kim was already leading him towards the stairs.
“Most of the rooms aren’t made up, but Joongie’s room is since we were expecting him later this week - that is, if you don’t mind staying in there?”
Yunho could only nod and follow the whirlwind of force that was Mrs. Kim; he’d never once doubted where Jaejoong had learned his mother hen ways after he’d met Mrs. Kim for the first time. In what seemed like no time at all, he was settled into Jaejoong’s childhood room, a spare toothbrush and a borrowed pair of pajamas in hand.
“Goodnight, dear,” Mrs. Kim said, tugging his head down gently so that she could stand on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “Sleep well.”
“You too, Mother,” Yunho replied as she turned and made her way back downstairs.
It was a strange feeling, Yunho thought as he curled into bed a few minutes later, settling into Jaejoong’s childhood room without Jaejoong for the first time that he could remember; to feel so surrounded by Jaejoong and yet still be so painfully alone.
This house, this room, had always felt like home to him. It was only now that he realized the truth.
It wasn’t the place that was home - it was Jaejoong.
*****
The next thing Yunho was aware of was the sound of footsteps approaching the bed. His gut instinct after years in the spotlight was that his home had been invaded by especially zealous sasaeng fans, but he soon remembered that he was at the Kim family home in Gongju and not at his apartment in Seoul.
He groggily opened one eye to ascertain what was happening, only to regret it instantly as he realised the bedroom light had been turned on. Hissing his displeasure, he threw an arm across his eyes and rolled over onto his back.
“Sorry,” came a whisper from nearby, “I turned the light on because I - I thought maybe I was dreaming when I saw you lying there.”
Yunho would never, could never, forget that voice. Not in ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years, would he fail to recognize it.
His breath stilled in his throat as he felt the edge of the bed dip. Unmoving, he lay there waiting, but for what he wasn’t quite sure. He could hear the rapid breathing to his left, which told him that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about this most unexpected meeting.
The tense silence stretched onward and, just when Yunho thought the waiting would never end, a tentative hand caressed the hair on his brow. The soft fingers stroked tenderly and then slid downward onto the arm that Yunho was using to cover his eyes, where their gentle, but firm, grip coaxed him to reveal his face.
“Hi,” Jaejoong murmured, looking down at him apprehensively.
Even though Yunho’s eyes were squinted from the onslaught of light, they still helplessly traced the planes of Jaejoong’s face. His gaze took in the dark circles that were visible on his skin and then came to rest on Jaejoong’s eyes. Those luminous orbs were wet with unshed tears as they returned his gaze anxiously from beneath his honeyed fringe and Yunho could read the fear of being rejected in their depths.
Until this very moment, Yunho hadn’t known that someone could look so beautiful, yet so heartbroken at the same time.
And just then, gazing into Jaejoong’s eyes for the first time in a decade, Yunho wanted - he wanted everything. All of Jaejoong. Whatever he could bear to give him.
But, at the same time, he was terrified; he was afraid to open himself up to this, to them. Last time, it had taken him so long to stitch the pieces of himself back together that he knew he couldn’t survive it if they destroyed each other again.
He didn’t think he could do this. He wasn’t strong enough.
“Promise and old man something.” Mr. Kim’s words echoed in his mind.
And he had. He’d promised to care for Jaejoong, no matter what. Yunho was a man of his word and he couldn’t break his promise to Mr. Kim.
He remembered, then, another promise that he had made on that cold night, so long ago.
“I’m going to make your dreams come true,” Yunho had whispered solemnly as Jaejoong slept bathed in the harsh, yellow light of the subway station. “I swear I will, Jaejoongie.”
He’d kept that promise and would have continued to keep it, until their whole world had shattered around them.
This time he wouldn’t let anything break his vow. He wouldn’t give up on them.
And, maybe, just maybe, he thought as his focus returned to Jaejoong’s anxious gaze, this wouldn’t end in heartbreak for either of them.
As though he were a magnet, Yunho felt himself being drawn closer by some unfathomable force, needing desperately to soothe the pain in Jaejoong’s eyes. His hand slid into the base of Jaejoong’s honey-blond hair of its own accord, pulling the other man downward as he himself was being pulled inexorably up. Before his mouth closed over those beautifully plump lips, he reverently spoke two syllables.
“Jaejoong.”
*****
Pairing: YunJae
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 2,673
Rating: PG
Summary: Sequel to Climbing Mountains. Although it’s been years since five became three and two, and even longer since Yunho and Jaejoong built dreams together only to watch them shatter, it is never too late to go home.
A/N: This started out as a separate piece, but then, somewhere along the way, it just felt right for it to be a continuation of Climbing Mountains. Hope you enjoy c:
*****
“A house is made of walls and beams. A home is built from love and dreams.”
- Anonymous
Yunho’s chest was tight with nerves as he drove the grey sedan, borrowed from the cousin of a friend, slowly towards the building looming at the top of the driveway. Although the light twinkling out from the windows of the house conveyed warmth out into the cold evening air, he wasn’t sure whether that welcome would extend to him on this most unexpected visit. However, Yunho determinedly continued his approach, despite his misgivings, and the tires gradually crept to a stop as he parked the car outside the garage door.
He anxiously adjusted his scarf to rest more firmly around his neck and pulled his toque low over his brow to better obscure his features. After sliding his sunglasses on, he turned the rearview mirror towards himself to inspect his disguise more thoroughly. He eyed his reflection with care, ensuring that all defining features of his face were hidden. Then, with one last tug at his scarf, he deemed himself ready to exit the relative safety of the borrowed vehicle.
His steps were swift as he approached the front door, although not so swift as to attract unwanted attention from anyone who might be watching the house. However, his apprehension increasingly slowed his movements as he neared the doorstep; even though he had practiced what he wanted to say when the door opened, the words seemed to have disappeared from his mind the instant he had left the car. Would they let him inside, or would his carefully planned visit end before it had even begun? Would he be cast out by the house’s owners as he had once cast their son out of his life? He was terrifyingly uncertain, but he knew that he needed to try.
Determined, Yunho took one last fortifying breath and then he knocked firmly on the polished surface of the door.
He waited restlessly in the cool evening air, rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet and listening as a lone set of footsteps came closer and closer to the door until, finally, the lock clicked as it slid out of place.
The door swung on its hinges to reveal an older woman, perfectly poised despite her simple outfit that consisted only of a t-shirt and cotton pants.
Yunho’s breath became caught in his throat, causing him to stutter slightly as he spoke. “Mother - I mean Mrs. Kim,” he greeted her, the more formal name unfamiliar on his tongue, and gave a deep bow. “It’s Yunho, may I come in?”
He looked up hopefully and was shocked to witness a small smile on Mrs. Kim’s face rather than the coldness or anger he might have expected, and thought that he probably deserved, after all that had happened between Jaejoong and himself.
“Are you really our Yunho?” Mrs. Kim reached up and lowered the scarf just enough to caress Yunho’s cheek affectionately.
Yunho found that he could only gaze in shocked silence at the easy acceptance of his presence. A moment later, he realized that Mrs. Kim was looking at him expectantly.
“Yes,” Yunho affirmed, placing his hand over hers. “I’m sorry to have come so late. I - I wanted to see Father… um, Mr. Kim, if that’s alright.”
Mrs. Kim’s smile dimmed slightly, and she nodded her understanding. “Yes, of course, dear. Come in, please, before you catch a cold.”
Mrs. Kim ushered him inside and helped him remove his scarf and coat, despite his protests otherwise. “I don’t want to be any trouble for you, Mrs. Kim -”
“Never, Yunho. You will always be like a son to me, whether you and Joongie are together or not,” Mrs. Kim said as she hung his jacket in the closet by the door. “So, no more of this ‘Mrs. Kim’ nonsense from you.”
Yunho felt tears of gratitude and relief pooling in his eyes as Mrs. Kim pulled him into a tight embrace in the entranceway of the Kim family home.
His home.
With his head buried in her neck, Yunho tenderly whispered, “Mother.”
*****
After eating some food that Mrs. Kim had kindly warmed for him - Jaejoong’s habit of feeding anyone and everyone had certainly been learned at her apron strings - Yunho was escorted down the hall to visit with Mr. Kim.
He followed two steps behind the woman he considered to be his second mother, smiling fondly at the family memories encased in photo frames along the walls. Yunho’s eyes lingered on an especially candid photograph of Jaejoong with one of his nieces that must have been taken shortly after Jaejoong’s return from his military service, if the length of his hair was any indication. The unabashed joy in Jaejoong’s smile that had been forever captured in the borders of the photograph was met with a flutter of his heart against his chest.
He continued to follow Mrs. Kim further into the house. However, when they passed by the stairs instead of going upward, where Yunho remembered Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s room being, he became confused. As if sensing Yunho’s unspoken question, Mrs. Kim turned back and told him: “Father hasn’t been doing well the last few months, you’ve heard some about it I’m sure, but recently the stairs have been too much - we’ve been staying in the guest room near Soo Jin’s room.”
“Ah, of course,” Yunho voiced his understanding as Mrs. Kim approached the room that was previously the guest room and knocked gently on the door before entering. A sliver of anxiety formed again under Yunho’s calm exterior as he entered the dimly lit room.
“Dear, we have a guest,” Mrs. Kim spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her husband and turning off the television that he had been watching.
“Oh? This late? Who…” Mr. Kim trailed off as Yunho approached the other side of the bed.
“Father,” Yunho greeted him with a deep bow that hid his shock at seeing Mr. Kim as he was now.
It hurt Yunho to see that Mr. Kim was no longer the way he remembered - illness had ravaged his body and pain clouded his eyes. Yunho’s heart clenched to see this proud man who was now confined to his bed. He regretted all the time he had been separated from these people whom he loved dearly. They were a part of his family, even though they didn’t share a single drop of blood with him.
Yunho didn’t speak, but instead lowered himself to the sit on the side of the bed and grasped Mr. Kim’s hand in his own, noting immediately that the fingers clasped in his own were chilled despite the pleasant temperature of the room and the blankets swaddled around Mr. Kim’s emaciated form. As Mr. Kim gazed at him thoughtfully, Yunho raised his other hand to gently massage the frail digits, trying to convey some warmth to the cooled flesh.
Obviously feeling the need to provide the two men some space, Mrs. Kim stood and reached over to briefly rest a hand on Yunho’s shoulder while she spoke. “I’ll leave you two to speak in private. I’ll just be finishing up in the kitchen if you need anything.”
Yunho thanked her sincerely and watched her retreating figure until the door was closed softly behind her.
“Yunho,” Mr. Kim whispered at last, looking at Yunho with tired, but contented, eyes. “Our Yunho.”
“That’s right, Father,” Yunho said, “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you so much since…”
Mr. Kim patted his hand reassuringly as Yunho’s eyes became damp and Yunho thought it strange that he was the one who needed comfort when Mr. Kim was the one who was dying.
The two men spoke for several minutes, of things important and also those of little consequence. To Yunho, every moment was precious; however, he could see from the pallor of his cheeks that Mr. Kim was quickly tiring.
“I should go, Father, and let you rest.” Yunho began to rise, but Mr. Kim suddenly gripped his hand more tightly than Yunho would have thought him capable of.
“Promise an old man something,” Mr. Kim spoke hurriedly.
Yunho obeyed the unspoken request and sat back down on the bed. “Of course, Father.”
“Take care of our Joongie, Yunho,” Mr. Kim asked in a serious tone.
“Father -”
“I know the two of you aren’t on speaking terms right now,” Mr. Kim cut him off. “But, even if it’s only from a distance, please take care of him. I know I wasn’t accepting of your relationship at first, but I can’t deny that you’ve always been so good for Joongie… You make him happy, and that’s all that a father could ever wish for his children,” Mr. Kim pleaded sincerely.
Yunho had to close his eyes at the onslaught of emotion that bubbled up at Mr. Kim’s words.
His bittersweet history with Jaejoong, their great love and their even greater breakup, was now being dredged back up in a way he couldn’t ignore. Yunho had tried to prepare himself for it before he arrived at the Kim family home. He had tried to bury the tumultuously swirling emotions deep inside himself. Obviously he was not nearly as successful as he had hoped.
But Mr. Kim, a man he loved and respected as dearly as his own father, was asking this of him. This was his dying wish of Yunho, and Yunho knew he could not refuse it despite the demons it might unleash.
Yunho leaned down to press a gentle kiss on Mr. Kim’s brow as he whispered his promise.
The tears of gratitude in those pain-filled eyes were proof enough that he had made the right decision.
*****
Yunho found Mrs. Kim in the kitchen, preparing what looked like additional side dishes to store for future meals.
“Is everything alright?” she asked as Yunho walked into the room.
“Father is sleeping now,” Yunho said, his eyes still watery from the emotional conversation with Mr. Kim.
“That’s good. Did you have a good talk?”
“Yes, I - yes. Thank you for letting me in to speak to him -”
“There’s no need to thank me, Yunho. This will always be your home, too,” Mrs. Kim said as she embraced him again. “Aigoo, you look exhausted. When was the last time you slept properly?” She leaned back to gaze at him in that appraising fashion that all mothers seemed to possess.
Yunho sighed tiredly and shook his head. “I can’t even remember - two, maybe three days?”
Mrs. Kim clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “That won’t do. Are you busy tomorrow? Why don’t you stay here tonight?”
“I’m free, but I wouldn’t want to impose…” Yunho began, but Mrs. Kim was already leading him towards the stairs.
“Most of the rooms aren’t made up, but Joongie’s room is since we were expecting him later this week - that is, if you don’t mind staying in there?”
Yunho could only nod and follow the whirlwind of force that was Mrs. Kim; he’d never once doubted where Jaejoong had learned his mother hen ways after he’d met Mrs. Kim for the first time. In what seemed like no time at all, he was settled into Jaejoong’s childhood room, a spare toothbrush and a borrowed pair of pajamas in hand.
“Goodnight, dear,” Mrs. Kim said, tugging his head down gently so that she could stand on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “Sleep well.”
“You too, Mother,” Yunho replied as she turned and made her way back downstairs.
It was a strange feeling, Yunho thought as he curled into bed a few minutes later, settling into Jaejoong’s childhood room without Jaejoong for the first time that he could remember; to feel so surrounded by Jaejoong and yet still be so painfully alone.
This house, this room, had always felt like home to him. It was only now that he realized the truth.
It wasn’t the place that was home - it was Jaejoong.
*****
The next thing Yunho was aware of was the sound of footsteps approaching the bed. His gut instinct after years in the spotlight was that his home had been invaded by especially zealous sasaeng fans, but he soon remembered that he was at the Kim family home in Gongju and not at his apartment in Seoul.
He groggily opened one eye to ascertain what was happening, only to regret it instantly as he realised the bedroom light had been turned on. Hissing his displeasure, he threw an arm across his eyes and rolled over onto his back.
“Sorry,” came a whisper from nearby, “I turned the light on because I - I thought maybe I was dreaming when I saw you lying there.”
Yunho would never, could never, forget that voice. Not in ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years, would he fail to recognize it.
His breath stilled in his throat as he felt the edge of the bed dip. Unmoving, he lay there waiting, but for what he wasn’t quite sure. He could hear the rapid breathing to his left, which told him that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about this most unexpected meeting.
The tense silence stretched onward and, just when Yunho thought the waiting would never end, a tentative hand caressed the hair on his brow. The soft fingers stroked tenderly and then slid downward onto the arm that Yunho was using to cover his eyes, where their gentle, but firm, grip coaxed him to reveal his face.
“Hi,” Jaejoong murmured, looking down at him apprehensively.
Even though Yunho’s eyes were squinted from the onslaught of light, they still helplessly traced the planes of Jaejoong’s face. His gaze took in the dark circles that were visible on his skin and then came to rest on Jaejoong’s eyes. Those luminous orbs were wet with unshed tears as they returned his gaze anxiously from beneath his honeyed fringe and Yunho could read the fear of being rejected in their depths.
Until this very moment, Yunho hadn’t known that someone could look so beautiful, yet so heartbroken at the same time.
And just then, gazing into Jaejoong’s eyes for the first time in a decade, Yunho wanted - he wanted everything. All of Jaejoong. Whatever he could bear to give him.
But, at the same time, he was terrified; he was afraid to open himself up to this, to them. Last time, it had taken him so long to stitch the pieces of himself back together that he knew he couldn’t survive it if they destroyed each other again.
He didn’t think he could do this. He wasn’t strong enough.
“Promise and old man something.” Mr. Kim’s words echoed in his mind.
And he had. He’d promised to care for Jaejoong, no matter what. Yunho was a man of his word and he couldn’t break his promise to Mr. Kim.
He remembered, then, another promise that he had made on that cold night, so long ago.
“I’m going to make your dreams come true,” Yunho had whispered solemnly as Jaejoong slept bathed in the harsh, yellow light of the subway station. “I swear I will, Jaejoongie.”
He’d kept that promise and would have continued to keep it, until their whole world had shattered around them.
This time he wouldn’t let anything break his vow. He wouldn’t give up on them.
And, maybe, just maybe, he thought as his focus returned to Jaejoong’s anxious gaze, this wouldn’t end in heartbreak for either of them.
As though he were a magnet, Yunho felt himself being drawn closer by some unfathomable force, needing desperately to soothe the pain in Jaejoong’s eyes. His hand slid into the base of Jaejoong’s honey-blond hair of its own accord, pulling the other man downward as he himself was being pulled inexorably up. Before his mouth closed over those beautifully plump lips, he reverently spoke two syllables.
“Jaejoong.”
*****