Te Quiero 2/?
Title: Te Quiero 2/?
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2249
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
Summary: Love at first sight and beyond that.
♥♥♥
Jaejoong stands stock-still in the middle of the dance studio, the fingers holding on to the piece of paper trembling. He has read through the note so many times that he almost has the contents memorised, the crumpled piece of paper itself a mess of creases and wrinkles, but he can’t help re-reading it again and again and again.
A door slams somewhere and Jaejoong’s head snaps up, the paper scrunching up in his clenched fist, and his body tenses as he watches the door to the mirror-filled room he’s in, apprehension seeping through his entire being and making his mouth run dry. The door bursts open just as his muscles start to ache from the strain, revealing a joyous Yunho with packed dinner.
Faced with a wide smile, Jaejoong lets out a forced chuckle that sounds hollow even to his own ears and tells Yunho that the latter scared him for a moment there. The newcomer doesn’t buy it at all, and frowns in disapproval at him, and Jaejoong is a little speechless to that look. The adrenaline flowing out of him all at once when he recognised Yunho left him too drained to fight or protest when Yunho pries his fingers from around the paper. He simply watches as Yunho’s eyes scanned through it line by line, seeing in his mind’s eye what Yunho is reading-
Oppa~
I love you, you know that, right? You belong to me~~~ I want this - give this to me, won’t you? ^^
-“What’s she talking about? Give what to her?” Yunho asks, his brows furrowed. Sighing, Jaejoong walks to his bag and pulls out the newest Polaroid picture he had received since the letters started. A hand holding up his toothbrush against the background of his dormitory. Yunho turns the picture around in his hands, his eyes widening when he reads the writing in black marker ink:
I like this thing that oppa’s lips touch first thing every morning~~~
Jaejoong watches as Yunho fists the photo tightly, his knuckles turning white, and he is pulled into Yunho’s arms for the third time since they’ve known each other. Fine tremors run through him from the fear that has honestly been held in for far too long, Yunho’s embrace is warmer than he remembers and he only realises he is crying when Yunho makes shushing sounds and runs a palm up and down his back soothingly.
---
“Are you sure about this?”
Jaejoong bites his lower lip unsurely, voicing his doubts. He has been asking questions to the same effect so many times since Yunho offered, but he feels like this time is more serious, now that he’s standing outside Yunho’s apartment, luggage in tow.
“Yes. Now, move.” A finger pokes at his back, trying to prod him into going forward. Still, he remains standing there in hesitation, his eyes darting, taking in details a little nervously. Yunho bats his hand away from the luggage handle, and then brushes past Jaejoong, carrying the luggage over the threshold. Jaejoong is left with no choice but to trail in behind him, half-dazed, half-apprehensive. Yunho strides into a guest room somewhere to leave Jaejoong’s belongings in there and returns to find Jaejoong sulking a little.
“Jaejoong-ah, I couldn’t have left you in the dorm. It’s my fault that the security isn’t tight enough, but this apartment will be great for you. She won’t be able to break in for sure.” Seeing that Jaejoong’s face hasn’t changed in its expression, he adds, “You won’t have to keep buying new toothbrushes?”
Jaejoong’s lips quirk a little, as he argues, a little half-hearted. “But this is your apartment!” Yunho smiles in triumph before he replies.
“Well, it’s an exception only for you.”
---
Jaejoong feels a little safer in the security of Yunho’s apartment; he isn’t receiving any of the threatening fan letters anymore. He asked Yunho about it once, and the latter just pursed his lips and said nothing in response. He suspects the fan is still sending things, just that he isn’t reading any of them. He thinks Yunho is receiving them in his stead, and he’s grateful, and cooks for Yunho as often as he can to show his gratitude.
---
Jaejoong smiles to himself after tasting the green concoction he came up with. It’s still vegetable juice and still more nutritious than coffee, but it tastes better now, and he thinks Yunho will like it. After two whole weeks of experimenting with his free time and off-days, and several bloated bellies of vegetable juice to come up with something he think Yunho will like more than coffee, he’s almost ready to swear off the emerald liquid himself. He jots down the ingredients used and the quantities on a piece of paper and sticks it on the fridge for when the juice finally makes its debut to Yunho, does the dishes, then goes to sit in front of the computer.
He checks his email, goes through the sites he regularly visits, and then something on a forum catches his eye. He clicks on a link and is thoroughly shocked when the page loads.
It’s a picture of his dormitory, clean of his effects and belongings, and below that is a picture of the apartment building he’s staying at now - Yunho’s apartment. The words across the picture, written, again, in black ink, are as clear as day.
Oppa, did you think that I wouldn’t find you? You’re mine.
---
He really, really thought that things were getting better in the short time he had changed residence.
Jaejoong doesn’t know why or how being stalked by a dark, twisted fan becomes his fault, but it does. Beyond that, it seems that rumors are popping up, and things are getting from bad to worse - things like he’s gay (which he can’t deny) and him leading his ex-girlfriends on (he doesn’t believe his eyes when his lying ex-girlfriends appear on interviews) and it’s a PR disaster. At the beginning of all these, Yunho told him to stay in as much as possible and that he has removed most of his night schedule because he’s afraid for his safety with rumors rife. So in the nights, Jaejoong has no dance practices, no choreography to go to, and he stays in the cocoon of Yunho’s apartment, worrying.
He worries exceedingly about Yunho, and wonders if the latter has heard and whether he believes the hearsay. He worries that Yunho will now mind him staying in the same place as he does, and even though Yunho hasn’t been able to spend as much time as before with him because he’s trying to manage the crisis that is Jaejoong’s career, he worries that Yunho is actually really avoiding him.
Most of all, he worries that he worries more about Yunho’s thoughts than his own career.
He feels like he’s being attacked by all his problems at once, being picked apart by the media and all the judging eyes of the world and it’s honestly the worst possible time to discover his feelings.
---
He doesn’t even know if Yunho’s gay.
He takes a gulp of beer, the bitter burn spreading past his throat and warming his stomach.
Yunho probably isn’t; why would he be?
Another chug and another and another, and the metal can is empty.
---
Jaejoong finds bottles and bottles of wine in a cabinet and squeals in delight. His vision is a little blurry and the world is a little tilted, though he doesn’t know if it’s his feet or his eyes that are screwing up. He cradles bottles in his arms - a good mix of rum, vodka, tequila and whiskey - and somehow manages to stumble drunkenly to the couch and set them down with enough care that they don’t break.
Arranging himself haphazardly on the floor, his back against the couch, he reaches back for a bottle. It doesn’t matter which one - as long as it’s alcohol.
---
Yunho closes the door quietly and turns around to the sight of Jaejoong smashed and sprawled out on the floor by the couch and frowns a little. Loosening his tie, he leaves his briefcase on a chair. He crouches next to Jaejoong and murmurs a little, though it’s a rhetorical question. “Why does this remind me of how we met again?” He sighs softly before he gently tries to nudge Jaejoong awake. Jaejoong is entirely dead to the world, and doesn’t respond at all to his prodding. So he kneels and scoops up the sleeping form, and carries him to bed. He leaves Jaejoong on the bed gently, but somehow Jaejoong rouses when he is let down, grabs Yunho’s wrist and mutters, “I didn’t do it, Yunho...’ before falling back asleep, his grip loosening and his hand falling back onto the bed.
Yunho’s heart squeezes painfully, as he stands up straight, and he asks the air, “what am I going to do with you?” as he runs gentle, caressing fingers through Jaejoong’s hair. He doesn’t want to stop himself from leaning down to press a kiss to Jaejoong’s forehead and whispering something else against the skin, so he does, before he switches off the bedside lamp and leaves the room.
---
His head is splitting apart, he’s sure. He groans, thinking it’ll help to vocalize the pain, then winces as the noise bounces off the walls and becomes overlapping echoes in his aching head. He doesn’t remember much, just thinking and drinking and drinking and drinking. And-
“Te quiero…”
A whisper in a familiar voice before he loses consciousness. But he’s sure he’s just being delusional because it’s a language he doesn’t understand and Yunho is the only one who could have been around. Somehow the thought that it’s impossible makes his heart hurt, and his hangover pales in comparison for a moment.
He wants to shake his head to rid it of the thought, but the pounding stops him before he does and he slowly pushes himself up on his elbows, mindful of stabilising his head as much as possible.
There’s a note on the bedside table for him, by a glass of water and some small white pills. He reaches for the note and squints at it-
There’s aspirin, take it. I’m sure you have a headache. There’s food in the kitchen.
-Jaejoong clutches the note in his hand to his chest, and lowers his pounding head back onto the pillow, throwing an arm over his closed eyes.
Yunho, why are you making it so hard on me?
---
He wakes up to a rumbling stomach after taking the pills and dozing a little. The pain isn’t as bad now, and he heads to the kitchen. There’s another note on the fridge and Yunho wrote - and as Jaejoong reads, he can hear Yunho’s voice in his head enunciating the words - that he canceled all of today’s schedule for him, so he can stay home and rest if he wants. Jaejoong bites into an apple that was on the counter as he reads the side note at the bottom of the memo.
P/S: If you still feel like coming down, call me and I’ll kick everyone out of the dance studio for you! ^^
Jaejoong chuckles softly against the apple.
This is why I love you.
---
“Hi,” the driver greets cheerily, wiggling his eyebrows dorkily.
Jaejoong’s breath catches, and he knows he shouldn’t be surprised because the man’s actions have been nothing but surprising since they got to know each other. Knows he shouldn’t be touched because there’s nothing more than platonic love on Yunho’s side. There’s a fluttering in his chest that has always been there, but he only recognises it after his revelation about his feelings towards Yunho.
“Hey. You didn’t have to come and pick me up yourself, Mr President.” He teases as he pulls the safety belt across his chest.
“Aish, you!” Yunho exclaims without real malice, and he lifts a hand off the steering wheel to pinch Jaejoong’s left cheek.
Jaejoong sucks in a breath and gives him a mock glare as the latter turns his eyes to the road and returns his hand to the steering wheel, pulling out of the driveway.
“I’m only nice to you so you can’t take away my hobby.”
Jaejoong turns away to stare out the tinted window, his cheeks heating up, his heart soaring yet hurting at the same time - because it means so much to him but it’s something the other man said offhandedly and has probably already forgotten about.
---
Jaejoong put in the CD he brought and let the beat pump through the stereo system and the speakers to fill up the space that was his for a few hours. He stands in the middle of the room, his eyes closed because he doesn’t need to look at his reflection to see if it looks good. This isn’t practice and he has no expectations to meet. This is his time alone with dance, so he lets the music saturate him, and take over his body as he thrusts, pumps, steps and pivots in sync with the rhythm. He forgets time, and thoughts, and eventually even himself. His whole world narrows down to only the movements and the music, only to widen again when he’s utterly exhausted and there’s a thirst burning in his throat.
It must have been at least an hour before he opens his eyes to see someone else leaning against the far wall, watching his reflection.
♥♥♥
A/N: What am I doing? This was supposed to be a oneshot TT_TT Anyways! I know I said I’d only post this when I finish Chapter 3, but I’m not really feeling like sorting out the sequence now, so it’s gonna take a while. Thank you all for the comments, you all are so, so kind! :’) I'm going to go for the semi-finals in one of those singing competitions they have in malls this Saturday, and I'm nervous as hell, my nerves are frayed, probably why I'm not feeling like writing now, wish me well!! Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this, babes ♥