APTF [8/?]
Title: A Prayer Time Forgot
Length: Chaptered [8/?]
Rating: NC17 now, to be safe.
Genre: Umm. Unsure. Angst, supernatural, generally. Weirdness. We'll see.
Pairing: Yes, there are pairings. (Gasp! A first!) I'm guessing it's YunJae.
Summary: It’s a highly complex play, pretending that everything is all right.
A/N: Because it's Holy Week and I'd rather update than do homework. ^^
Prologue + Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
---
Chapter Eight
Yoochun’s first few moments in school are filled with nothing but tears.
“Please don’t leave me hyung,” he begs his uncle, tugs at the collar of his coat and leaves large blotches on his front. Yunho hyung holds him, rubs circles onto his back and leaves kisses on his temple. “Junsu hyung and I will be right outside when you get off at 2, okay? We’ll be right there. It’s okay, Micky,” he says.
“It’s not okay.” He wants Jaejoong hyung, or Changmin hyung at least. “It’s not.”
“Don’t you want to meet the other children, Yoochun-ah? I’m sure they’d love to hear wonderful stories about your home in New York.” His teacher, Miss Da Hae, is a pretty woman with a kind face and soft, warm hands. Unlike Junsu hyung, however, she speaks English with a thick accent which only upsets Yoochun more, making him fight against the hold she has on his shoulders.
“Noooo!” he wails, makes sure it’s loud enough to make other people look at them. “Nooooo!”
He hears Yunho hyung sigh and say something in Korean to the teacher. He hopes Yunho hyung is excusing him for the day, or forever. He doesn’t want to stay in this stupid school where he knows and understands no one. Already he’s a mess but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to make friends and no one can make him.
To his surprise, Yunho hyung reaches out, and gives him one last tight hug before straightening. “I’ll see you later, Mickybo. Be a good boy,” he says, before turning on his heel and walking away without looking back. “Wave goodbye to your uncle now, Yoochun-ah,” Miss Da Hae says before steering him towards the classroom, does it in a way that no amount of crying, whining, kicking and screaming can stop her from doing so and shutting the door.
He sulks of course, shies away from the other children the entire morning. They try to approach him but he frowns at them, makes them back away either in fear or annoyance, and leaves him in his corner by the big window. He nearly picks a fight as another boy tries to borrow the truck he’s playing with and is on the verge of throwing a tantrum when a voice, clear and distinct, echoes in his brain, talks in a way that makes Yoochun stop in order to listen.
You’re a tough little kid, aren’t you?
There’s no one near him, but somehow, Yoochun is pulled towards the direction of the window and he peers out of it, pressing his nose onto the glass. There’s a boy on the merry-go-round, right outside his classroom window. He’s sitting alone on one of the handles, his face white under the sunlight, his feet hanging idly in mid-air. He lifts a hand up at Yoochun and waves slowly, his lips curling into a smile.
Missed me?
It’s the boy from their apartment. His playmate. His friend. The sight of him soothes Yoochun and a jolt of happiness rushes through him. For the first time that day he smiles, raises a hand in order to wave back.
“Yoochun-ah?” Miss Da hae is calling him and he turns around. “Who are you waving to?” And a peal of soundless laughter echoes in his ears as he turns back towards the window, means to point, but is met by the sight of an empty merry-go-round shining red, blue and gold in the sunlight, turning slightly in the breeze.
---
(Your mother’s dying here, he’s told through endless messages through the answering machine, She’s dying and you don’t care? She’s been asking for you day and night!
Another painting. Amber. Sapphire. Magenta. Canary.
Jaejoong! Do you hear me? Come home, Jaejoong!
He slashes at the canvas with the brush, splatters paint all over the floor and all over his clothes.
Jaejoong!
A bang on the door and he’s gone, paint sticky and crimson pooling like blood on the spot on the floor where a destroyed tube lies, crushed by the heel of his boot.)
---
Yunho is thirty minutes early for pick-up, and he waits by the school steps patiently for two o’clock with a whole bag of Yoochun’s favorite candies in hand as compensation for that morning’s traumatic (for both of them; he’d hated leaving Yoochun there, crying, asking for him to stay) separation. Junsu quits his vigil beside Yunho by the tenth minute, goes off back into the car with his hands under his armpits while muttering about crazy half-brained ideas he should really stop partaking in. “I really don’t see why you’re so worried,” he grumbles at Yunho seconds before he turns to leave. “Nothing can happen to him; he’s in school for crying out loud.” But it does very little to ease the worry that’s settled deep inside of Yunho, the feeling that there’s something definitely wrong.
Children start pouring out of the doors even before two o’clock chimes in, and Yunho is quick to spot Yoochun in the bustling, babbling crowd. There’s a tug at his heartstrings when he sees Yoochun’s eyes swollen, his little nose red. Poor little guy, he finds himself saying before he raises his arms and calls out to Yoochun. Yoochun’s eyes brighten at the side of him (“Yunho hyung!”) and Yunho greets him with open arms, lifts him up into the air and gives him a hug. Yoochun is delighted with his gift and proceeds to snatch it from his grasp the minute he’s in Yunho’s arms.
“Whoa there, Mickybo! Did you have a good day? You didn’t spend the entire day crying did you? I actually missed you!” he teases, tickles Yoochun a bit just to make his nephew’s smile last a little bit longer.
“You’ll never guess, hyung, but-” Yoochun starts to say, but then his eyes widen at something behind Yunho and he waves his arms excitedly. “Jaejoong hyung!”
Yunho turns at the name, and sure enough, Jaejoong is crossing the street towards where they are, hunched over in the cold and hands in pockets, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He flashes a grin at the both of them and gives a small wave. Yoochun squirms in Yunho’s hold, begs to be let down.
“Jaejoong hyung! Jaejoong hyung!” Yoochun jumps up and down excitedly, more animated now.
“I’m not late for pick-up aren’t I? I remember I promised,” Jaejoong says, winking at Yoochun before lifting him up. “Aish you’re getting heavy, Yoochun-ah.” He meets Yunho’s gaze a second, and Yunho notices a tiredness in his eyes that was never present before. It’s gone, however, as Jaejoong quickly focuses back on Yoochun, teases him by pulling his hat down over his eyes. “How’s our little champion huh? You okay? Missed me?”
Yunho opens his mouth, something along the lines of Where have you been on the tip of his tongue, but someone calling his name averts him, turns his attention back to the school.
“Jung Yunho-sshi!”
Yoochun’s teacher is approaching them. She waves to Yoochun before focusing on Yunho, her expression turning from friendly to serious in one swift motion.
“Kim Da Hae-sshi. Is anything wrong?” Yunho frowns.
“Is it all right if I speak to you? A teacher-parent conference, if you may.” She says, keeps her voice low so Yoochun, giggling away in Jaejoong’s arms, doesn’t hear. Her tone is something Yunho doesn’t trust. “It won’t take long, but I believe it’s a matter worth discussing.”
He curses at the timing, but knows he has no other choice. He nods, gives Jaejoong one last look before he follows Yoochun’s teacher inside the school.
---
Yoochun’s a precocious child, Jung Yunho-sshi. He’s quick to answer, to learn, but his behavior is very…worrisome, to say the least.
Somehow Yunho knew that that was coming. Behavior? he asks, pretends he doesn’t know.
He’s very hostile, Yoochun. And he refuses to talk with anyone. During the break, however, I saw him in the playground talking to himself on the merry-go-round and sharing his food. The rest of the day, he stayed silent. He wouldn’t even go near the other children.
The statement strikes something inside of Yunho that makes a stronghold in him buckle.
…Did he say who he was talking to?
No. Does Yoochun have any imaginary friends that he interacts with at home?
The lie comes out quicker than the truth.
…No, not that I know of.
He refuses to accept it. There are no playmates, no other little boys running around their apartment, no other child. No no no no
Usually things like these go away, but I would advise you to keep a close eye on him while at home. It may be the change of environment. You mentioned that he’s just lost his parents?
Yes.
It must be that then.
A supporter of his theory.
…Yes, it must be.
---
It’s a highly complex play, pretending that everything is all right.
Jaejoong offers to give Yoochun a piggyback on the way into the apartment, does his best to make Yoochun smile and giggle every possible second. He produces a small pack of scented markers from his pockets as a gift (“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to drop you off,” he says, pouting in the hopes Yoochun would forgive him faster, but Yunho knows Yoochun had already forgiven him the minute he appeared), and makes dinner for the four of them, including Junsu, who can never resist an invitation. Yunho watches Yoochun first, watches as he runs about as Junsu chases him, squeals as Jaejoong captures him and spins him around. There’s nothing wrong with him, he says to himself. He’s normal. He’s a normal little boy. It’s probably just nerves. And he leaves the matter, despite a little voice inside of him pestering him not to, despite the persistent uneasiness he feels hovering over all of them like a dark cloud.
He watches Jaejoong next, looks for a clue about the man’s sudden disappearances and appearances. Jaejoong seems wary of his stare and often forces a smile on his face, or a lighthearted chuckle. “Why so serious, Yunho?” he even asks once during the course of dinner. “My cooking not good enough for you anymore?” There’s fresh paint on his coat and under his fingernails, but Yunho doesn’t dare to question. He’s an artist after all, he says in an attempt to brush the matter away. He has to make a living, doesn’t he?
It’s Junsu who volunteers to ready Yoochun’s bath before he leaves, leaving Jaejoong and Yunho alone in Yunho’s bedroom, Jaejoong standing by the closet as he undresses himself to change into cleaner clothes (his clothes, Yunho notes, wonders when Jaejoong had ever smuggled them into his wardrobe without him noticing) while Yunho watches from his spot on the bed, observing the light and shadows that dance on the contours of Jaejoong’s back. For the first time, Jaejoong stays silent longer than is comfortable.
“You all right?” Yunho asks, almost afraid of what his own question might spawn. “Jae…?”
“I’m fine,” comes the answer. Short. Clipped. Final. No trembling.
Yunho clears his throat, almost at a loss for words. “Yoochun…he was looking for you this morning.”
“Yeah. I surmised that that would be the case.” Jaejoong turns around, now clothed. He smiles at Yunho, and the old spark that Yunho is used to seeing twinkles in his eyes. “No matter, I’ve made it up to him.”
“Are you sure you’re…”
“I’m fine, Yunho, quit asking me.” He laughs. “God, you’re such an annoying little bastard when you want to be.”
Yunho is relieved, if only a bit. “Ah, but you know you love me.”
“Bastard, that’s my line.”
And Jaejoong growls at him, falls into his embrace, consumes him in a way that even for a moment, everything seems to be all right.
---
Junsu hyung leaves just after he fills the tub, warm soapy water all the way to the brim. “I have to go, Yoochun-ah, but don’t get in until your uncle or Jaejoong hyung comes to supervise you, okay? They know you’re going to be having your bath anyway,” he says, finishing his goodbye with a kiss on Yoochun’s head before he walks out, leaves Yoochun in his bathroom with only his bathrobe on, a pile of bath toys ready and waiting in his arms.
“But why do I have to wait for them?” he whines to Junsu’s retreating back, but gets nothing for an answer. He pouts at empty air before deciding to go over to Yunho hyung’s room and knock to tell either his uncle or Jaejoong hyung that he wants his bath and he wants it now. There are only so many deep sea missions that he can complete in one night…
You don’t have to wait for them, and Yoochun jumps at the sound of the voice, startled, only to turn around and see his playmate already sitting at the tub, his hand dancing over the suds. I’ll watch you.
“It’s only you,” Yoochun smiles, approaching him. “You scared me.”
His first day became better with his playmate around; he had kept him company during recess and every once in a while when Yoochun would look, he would be there on the merry-go-round, watching him, waiting for him.
Get into the tub, the boy says again, gathers soap suds on the palm of his hand. I’ll watch you.
Yoochun shakes his head. “Junsu hyung said I’d have to-”
Who cares what he said? Your hyungs are probably tired out and sleeping. It’ll only take a few minutes. And remember our deal?
“What deal?” Yoochun frowns. The boy smiles at him before looks down at the water in the tub.
I told you, didn’t I? Don’t you want to see your Daddy?
And Yoochun remembers that day, that day when he’d cut up Yunho hyung’s pictures. He licks his lips, not really fond of repeating truth he doesn’t want to face. “I already told you, my Daddy is-”
I met him, your Daddy. Siwon Jung, isn’t he? He told me specifically that he wants to see you again. But I told you, you have to do what I say.
Yoochun is curious now, and approaches the strange boy with interest. “You’re…you’re not lying to me are you?”
It’s the first time he sees the boy up close, his sharp eyes and his pointed features. The only thing that Yoochun marks off as strange is the paleness that seems to make light shine right through him, and the strange way that he can speak even without opening his mouth.
Why would I lie to you? I’m your friend, aren’t I? I went to your school, didn’t I? I kept you company.
Yoochun can’t actually deny any of his allegations.
“Okay…if you’re sure.”
The boy smiles, showing an entire set of straight, perfect white teeth.
Of course I’m sure.
And before he knows it, Yoochun’s world is a blur of soap and water, light and pain, as suddenly he’s lying at the bottom of the tub and kept there, unable to move, think, or breathe, hearing nothing but water rushing past his ears and the faint voice of the strange boy pounding in his head.
It’s easier if you pretend to sleep, Yoochun-ah. It’s faster that way.
He opens his mouth to scream, for Yunho hyung, for Jaejoong hyung, for anyone, but it’s only bubbles that pour out of his mouth, and they float up to the surface, burst upon contact with air.
---
He’s heard stories of how it happened, if there was possible foul play or not. An accident, it was always ruled out, nothing but an accident.
It’s the unnatural quiet that unsettles him, that makes him break contact with Yunho and jump to his feet, heart racing and instincts alert.
“What’s the matter?” Yunho asks, alarmed at his sudden movement. “Jaejoong-ah-”
“Yoochun,” he says breathlessly, his throat suddenly tightening. “Where’s Yoochun?”
He doesn’t wait for Yunho to react, but runs out of the room. “Yoochun!” he calls, praying the boy is in his room, playing or watching TV, prays that his instincts are wrong.
No boy answers. Yoochun’s room is empty, but his bathroom door is closed. He rushes towards it, pulls on the knob, discovers it’s locked. It’s there that his heart drops, that a sudden, sinister cold wraps around him like a cloak.
“YOOCHUN!” he screams.
No boy answers.
TBC
A/N: I can't promise a sooner update I'm afraid (tests, homework), but please don't brick me! >.> ^^;; Thank you so far to all who have read and commented! <3
Length: Chaptered [8/?]
Rating: NC17 now, to be safe.
Genre: Umm. Unsure. Angst, supernatural, generally. Weirdness. We'll see.
Pairing: Yes, there are pairings. (Gasp! A first!) I'm guessing it's YunJae.
Summary: It’s a highly complex play, pretending that everything is all right.
A/N: Because it's Holy Week and I'd rather update than do homework. ^^
Prologue + Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
---
Chapter Eight
Yoochun’s first few moments in school are filled with nothing but tears.
“Please don’t leave me hyung,” he begs his uncle, tugs at the collar of his coat and leaves large blotches on his front. Yunho hyung holds him, rubs circles onto his back and leaves kisses on his temple. “Junsu hyung and I will be right outside when you get off at 2, okay? We’ll be right there. It’s okay, Micky,” he says.
“It’s not okay.” He wants Jaejoong hyung, or Changmin hyung at least. “It’s not.”
“Don’t you want to meet the other children, Yoochun-ah? I’m sure they’d love to hear wonderful stories about your home in New York.” His teacher, Miss Da Hae, is a pretty woman with a kind face and soft, warm hands. Unlike Junsu hyung, however, she speaks English with a thick accent which only upsets Yoochun more, making him fight against the hold she has on his shoulders.
“Noooo!” he wails, makes sure it’s loud enough to make other people look at them. “Nooooo!”
He hears Yunho hyung sigh and say something in Korean to the teacher. He hopes Yunho hyung is excusing him for the day, or forever. He doesn’t want to stay in this stupid school where he knows and understands no one. Already he’s a mess but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to make friends and no one can make him.
To his surprise, Yunho hyung reaches out, and gives him one last tight hug before straightening. “I’ll see you later, Mickybo. Be a good boy,” he says, before turning on his heel and walking away without looking back. “Wave goodbye to your uncle now, Yoochun-ah,” Miss Da Hae says before steering him towards the classroom, does it in a way that no amount of crying, whining, kicking and screaming can stop her from doing so and shutting the door.
He sulks of course, shies away from the other children the entire morning. They try to approach him but he frowns at them, makes them back away either in fear or annoyance, and leaves him in his corner by the big window. He nearly picks a fight as another boy tries to borrow the truck he’s playing with and is on the verge of throwing a tantrum when a voice, clear and distinct, echoes in his brain, talks in a way that makes Yoochun stop in order to listen.
You’re a tough little kid, aren’t you?
There’s no one near him, but somehow, Yoochun is pulled towards the direction of the window and he peers out of it, pressing his nose onto the glass. There’s a boy on the merry-go-round, right outside his classroom window. He’s sitting alone on one of the handles, his face white under the sunlight, his feet hanging idly in mid-air. He lifts a hand up at Yoochun and waves slowly, his lips curling into a smile.
Missed me?
It’s the boy from their apartment. His playmate. His friend. The sight of him soothes Yoochun and a jolt of happiness rushes through him. For the first time that day he smiles, raises a hand in order to wave back.
“Yoochun-ah?” Miss Da hae is calling him and he turns around. “Who are you waving to?” And a peal of soundless laughter echoes in his ears as he turns back towards the window, means to point, but is met by the sight of an empty merry-go-round shining red, blue and gold in the sunlight, turning slightly in the breeze.
---
(Your mother’s dying here, he’s told through endless messages through the answering machine, She’s dying and you don’t care? She’s been asking for you day and night!
Another painting. Amber. Sapphire. Magenta. Canary.
Jaejoong! Do you hear me? Come home, Jaejoong!
He slashes at the canvas with the brush, splatters paint all over the floor and all over his clothes.
Jaejoong!
A bang on the door and he’s gone, paint sticky and crimson pooling like blood on the spot on the floor where a destroyed tube lies, crushed by the heel of his boot.)
---
Yunho is thirty minutes early for pick-up, and he waits by the school steps patiently for two o’clock with a whole bag of Yoochun’s favorite candies in hand as compensation for that morning’s traumatic (for both of them; he’d hated leaving Yoochun there, crying, asking for him to stay) separation. Junsu quits his vigil beside Yunho by the tenth minute, goes off back into the car with his hands under his armpits while muttering about crazy half-brained ideas he should really stop partaking in. “I really don’t see why you’re so worried,” he grumbles at Yunho seconds before he turns to leave. “Nothing can happen to him; he’s in school for crying out loud.” But it does very little to ease the worry that’s settled deep inside of Yunho, the feeling that there’s something definitely wrong.
Children start pouring out of the doors even before two o’clock chimes in, and Yunho is quick to spot Yoochun in the bustling, babbling crowd. There’s a tug at his heartstrings when he sees Yoochun’s eyes swollen, his little nose red. Poor little guy, he finds himself saying before he raises his arms and calls out to Yoochun. Yoochun’s eyes brighten at the side of him (“Yunho hyung!”) and Yunho greets him with open arms, lifts him up into the air and gives him a hug. Yoochun is delighted with his gift and proceeds to snatch it from his grasp the minute he’s in Yunho’s arms.
“Whoa there, Mickybo! Did you have a good day? You didn’t spend the entire day crying did you? I actually missed you!” he teases, tickles Yoochun a bit just to make his nephew’s smile last a little bit longer.
“You’ll never guess, hyung, but-” Yoochun starts to say, but then his eyes widen at something behind Yunho and he waves his arms excitedly. “Jaejoong hyung!”
Yunho turns at the name, and sure enough, Jaejoong is crossing the street towards where they are, hunched over in the cold and hands in pockets, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He flashes a grin at the both of them and gives a small wave. Yoochun squirms in Yunho’s hold, begs to be let down.
“Jaejoong hyung! Jaejoong hyung!” Yoochun jumps up and down excitedly, more animated now.
“I’m not late for pick-up aren’t I? I remember I promised,” Jaejoong says, winking at Yoochun before lifting him up. “Aish you’re getting heavy, Yoochun-ah.” He meets Yunho’s gaze a second, and Yunho notices a tiredness in his eyes that was never present before. It’s gone, however, as Jaejoong quickly focuses back on Yoochun, teases him by pulling his hat down over his eyes. “How’s our little champion huh? You okay? Missed me?”
Yunho opens his mouth, something along the lines of Where have you been on the tip of his tongue, but someone calling his name averts him, turns his attention back to the school.
“Jung Yunho-sshi!”
Yoochun’s teacher is approaching them. She waves to Yoochun before focusing on Yunho, her expression turning from friendly to serious in one swift motion.
“Kim Da Hae-sshi. Is anything wrong?” Yunho frowns.
“Is it all right if I speak to you? A teacher-parent conference, if you may.” She says, keeps her voice low so Yoochun, giggling away in Jaejoong’s arms, doesn’t hear. Her tone is something Yunho doesn’t trust. “It won’t take long, but I believe it’s a matter worth discussing.”
He curses at the timing, but knows he has no other choice. He nods, gives Jaejoong one last look before he follows Yoochun’s teacher inside the school.
---
Yoochun’s a precocious child, Jung Yunho-sshi. He’s quick to answer, to learn, but his behavior is very…worrisome, to say the least.
Somehow Yunho knew that that was coming. Behavior? he asks, pretends he doesn’t know.
He’s very hostile, Yoochun. And he refuses to talk with anyone. During the break, however, I saw him in the playground talking to himself on the merry-go-round and sharing his food. The rest of the day, he stayed silent. He wouldn’t even go near the other children.
The statement strikes something inside of Yunho that makes a stronghold in him buckle.
…Did he say who he was talking to?
No. Does Yoochun have any imaginary friends that he interacts with at home?
The lie comes out quicker than the truth.
…No, not that I know of.
He refuses to accept it. There are no playmates, no other little boys running around their apartment, no other child. No no no no
Usually things like these go away, but I would advise you to keep a close eye on him while at home. It may be the change of environment. You mentioned that he’s just lost his parents?
Yes.
It must be that then.
A supporter of his theory.
…Yes, it must be.
---
It’s a highly complex play, pretending that everything is all right.
Jaejoong offers to give Yoochun a piggyback on the way into the apartment, does his best to make Yoochun smile and giggle every possible second. He produces a small pack of scented markers from his pockets as a gift (“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to drop you off,” he says, pouting in the hopes Yoochun would forgive him faster, but Yunho knows Yoochun had already forgiven him the minute he appeared), and makes dinner for the four of them, including Junsu, who can never resist an invitation. Yunho watches Yoochun first, watches as he runs about as Junsu chases him, squeals as Jaejoong captures him and spins him around. There’s nothing wrong with him, he says to himself. He’s normal. He’s a normal little boy. It’s probably just nerves. And he leaves the matter, despite a little voice inside of him pestering him not to, despite the persistent uneasiness he feels hovering over all of them like a dark cloud.
He watches Jaejoong next, looks for a clue about the man’s sudden disappearances and appearances. Jaejoong seems wary of his stare and often forces a smile on his face, or a lighthearted chuckle. “Why so serious, Yunho?” he even asks once during the course of dinner. “My cooking not good enough for you anymore?” There’s fresh paint on his coat and under his fingernails, but Yunho doesn’t dare to question. He’s an artist after all, he says in an attempt to brush the matter away. He has to make a living, doesn’t he?
It’s Junsu who volunteers to ready Yoochun’s bath before he leaves, leaving Jaejoong and Yunho alone in Yunho’s bedroom, Jaejoong standing by the closet as he undresses himself to change into cleaner clothes (his clothes, Yunho notes, wonders when Jaejoong had ever smuggled them into his wardrobe without him noticing) while Yunho watches from his spot on the bed, observing the light and shadows that dance on the contours of Jaejoong’s back. For the first time, Jaejoong stays silent longer than is comfortable.
“You all right?” Yunho asks, almost afraid of what his own question might spawn. “Jae…?”
“I’m fine,” comes the answer. Short. Clipped. Final. No trembling.
Yunho clears his throat, almost at a loss for words. “Yoochun…he was looking for you this morning.”
“Yeah. I surmised that that would be the case.” Jaejoong turns around, now clothed. He smiles at Yunho, and the old spark that Yunho is used to seeing twinkles in his eyes. “No matter, I’ve made it up to him.”
“Are you sure you’re…”
“I’m fine, Yunho, quit asking me.” He laughs. “God, you’re such an annoying little bastard when you want to be.”
Yunho is relieved, if only a bit. “Ah, but you know you love me.”
“Bastard, that’s my line.”
And Jaejoong growls at him, falls into his embrace, consumes him in a way that even for a moment, everything seems to be all right.
---
Junsu hyung leaves just after he fills the tub, warm soapy water all the way to the brim. “I have to go, Yoochun-ah, but don’t get in until your uncle or Jaejoong hyung comes to supervise you, okay? They know you’re going to be having your bath anyway,” he says, finishing his goodbye with a kiss on Yoochun’s head before he walks out, leaves Yoochun in his bathroom with only his bathrobe on, a pile of bath toys ready and waiting in his arms.
“But why do I have to wait for them?” he whines to Junsu’s retreating back, but gets nothing for an answer. He pouts at empty air before deciding to go over to Yunho hyung’s room and knock to tell either his uncle or Jaejoong hyung that he wants his bath and he wants it now. There are only so many deep sea missions that he can complete in one night…
You don’t have to wait for them, and Yoochun jumps at the sound of the voice, startled, only to turn around and see his playmate already sitting at the tub, his hand dancing over the suds. I’ll watch you.
“It’s only you,” Yoochun smiles, approaching him. “You scared me.”
His first day became better with his playmate around; he had kept him company during recess and every once in a while when Yoochun would look, he would be there on the merry-go-round, watching him, waiting for him.
Get into the tub, the boy says again, gathers soap suds on the palm of his hand. I’ll watch you.
Yoochun shakes his head. “Junsu hyung said I’d have to-”
Who cares what he said? Your hyungs are probably tired out and sleeping. It’ll only take a few minutes. And remember our deal?
“What deal?” Yoochun frowns. The boy smiles at him before looks down at the water in the tub.
I told you, didn’t I? Don’t you want to see your Daddy?
And Yoochun remembers that day, that day when he’d cut up Yunho hyung’s pictures. He licks his lips, not really fond of repeating truth he doesn’t want to face. “I already told you, my Daddy is-”
I met him, your Daddy. Siwon Jung, isn’t he? He told me specifically that he wants to see you again. But I told you, you have to do what I say.
Yoochun is curious now, and approaches the strange boy with interest. “You’re…you’re not lying to me are you?”
It’s the first time he sees the boy up close, his sharp eyes and his pointed features. The only thing that Yoochun marks off as strange is the paleness that seems to make light shine right through him, and the strange way that he can speak even without opening his mouth.
Why would I lie to you? I’m your friend, aren’t I? I went to your school, didn’t I? I kept you company.
Yoochun can’t actually deny any of his allegations.
“Okay…if you’re sure.”
The boy smiles, showing an entire set of straight, perfect white teeth.
Of course I’m sure.
And before he knows it, Yoochun’s world is a blur of soap and water, light and pain, as suddenly he’s lying at the bottom of the tub and kept there, unable to move, think, or breathe, hearing nothing but water rushing past his ears and the faint voice of the strange boy pounding in his head.
It’s easier if you pretend to sleep, Yoochun-ah. It’s faster that way.
He opens his mouth to scream, for Yunho hyung, for Jaejoong hyung, for anyone, but it’s only bubbles that pour out of his mouth, and they float up to the surface, burst upon contact with air.
---
He’s heard stories of how it happened, if there was possible foul play or not. An accident, it was always ruled out, nothing but an accident.
It’s the unnatural quiet that unsettles him, that makes him break contact with Yunho and jump to his feet, heart racing and instincts alert.
“What’s the matter?” Yunho asks, alarmed at his sudden movement. “Jaejoong-ah-”
“Yoochun,” he says breathlessly, his throat suddenly tightening. “Where’s Yoochun?”
He doesn’t wait for Yunho to react, but runs out of the room. “Yoochun!” he calls, praying the boy is in his room, playing or watching TV, prays that his instincts are wrong.
No boy answers. Yoochun’s room is empty, but his bathroom door is closed. He rushes towards it, pulls on the knob, discovers it’s locked. It’s there that his heart drops, that a sudden, sinister cold wraps around him like a cloak.
“YOOCHUN!” he screams.
No boy answers.
TBC
A/N: I can't promise a sooner update I'm afraid (tests, homework), but please don't brick me! >.> ^^;; Thank you so far to all who have read and commented! <3