(no subject)
remembering the beach vultures
one-shot | lawsuit-bandfic, jaejoong-centric (i... have a problem,), OT3/OT5bits. swearing, arguements and flashbacks, angst-fest: some rambling; PG-13 (6386 Words.)
warning: read with a grain of salt; this isn't my take on the lawsuit because i have no idea what's going on, but it's something. a plot. a story.
the disclaimer remains that "i don't own the boys, and if i did, i would honestly have better things to do than write about them.
this is for scarletpeonies because a hundred years ago she wanted to read bandfic and i got an idea. hope you don't mind angst u.u the next thing i post is going to be upbeat, i promise.
this hasn't been beta'd, so, y'know, sorry. and if you could point out any glaring errors i think i'd love you for an eternity, thanks so much!
They head to the seaside in a lackluster attempt to celebrate their seemingly limitless free time. On the ride down, Junsu is rambling on about beach-monster-waves and how he can’t wait for ice cream trolley because then he can get bubblegum and cotton candy and no! butterscotch-walnut-ripple how could I have forgotten Jaejoong how could I have forgotten-
Yoochun taps the steering wheel and smirks a little. Jaejoong thinks he can feel Yoochuns eyes on him, but he has a brown-washed pair of shades nestled on his nose that make it impossible to tell. He feels a little comforted by the tug of Yoochuns lips - the way he’s amused but isn’t going to say anything. Jaejoong smiles, too, and puts his arm out the window, letting it fall back in the wind. There are mixed feelings competing for land in his gut and he’s apprehensive about the situation, and the breeze is a nice distraction.
When the hour-and-forty-five-minute long drive is over, Junsu is out of the machine and into the sand before Jaejoong can yell precautions after him. “Yah- Sunblock!” He still tries to be the one holding everything together. Yoochun snorts and tosses him a sideways look, throws a towel over his shoulder and begins ambling down to the shoreline. Jaejoong can smell the salt in the air; Yoochuns flip flops crunch in the grains and smack against his toes, and the sand stretches on for years.
Yoochun spends most of his time laying on his stomach on the sand, sound muffling headphones covering his ears in an endless stream of music. Junsu wears his mischievous face and scuttles around, feigning casual interest in the sea shells, jumping out of a supposed no where to bombard Yoochun with sand when he thinks he isn't looking - and Yoochun is always one step ahead of him, rolling or tossing something at Junsu that he had been to nonchalant to notice. Yoochun has eyes in the back of his head, but Junsu had hoped maybe the thick black headband of his earphones had covered them. As it turns out, Yoochun has eyes all over the place - on the back of his arms, elbows, the nubs of his toes; in Jaejoong flashing shimmering-bands of sunlight as a warning with his compact mirror.
(There's a kid with a bucket and Junsu is has never been more jealous, because it would be so much easier to surprise!bury Yoochun if he had a bucket or shovel or something other than his stout and useless limbs. He makes eyes at Jaejoong for about twenty minutes before Jaejoong proposes thievery. Junsu doesn't know if he's joking or not, so his laughter seems inappropriate, even for Jaejoong.)
Jaejoong wastes his sunlight alternating between two main distractions; applying sun block because if he has to get cancer it’s going to be because he smokes and not because of some fucking yellow thing in the sky, he would rather not return to Korea looking as if he had fallen into a vat of chocolate ice cream (oh, what, this? well you see you can just lick it off-,) and swallowing down the heaviness in his throat whenever that application of lotion lulls, and he remembers how wrong it is to be enjoying the warmth - enjoying anything - with two less souls beside him.
"God," he mutters, and in the distance, he can see Junsu taking on an intimidating wave. Yoochun looks at him curiously, having seen his lips move but heard nothing but bass and bongo drums, and Jaejoong shakes his head once, flopping back against the sand. He feels Yoochuns foot patting the bare skin of his stomach (comfort) and sighs - maybe he doesn't have to say anything for them to know. Maybe they can feel it too.
Yoochun starts humming something annoyingly happy, tracing circles in the sand with his fingertips, and Jaejoong stares directly at the sun, wondering if they had been lying when they told him it was blinding.
-
The first thing they saw when they got back was Yunho sitting at the dining table. His hands were fixed together like they’d been glued; he was so still Jaejoong thought maybe he had been flash frozen.
He didn’t look at them or say anything, but his lips were pursed like he might try to. Yoochun sat down across from him, gingerly, and Junsu and Jaejoong stood back a little ways to let the other man tally the damage. (Junsu waiting for a cue; Jaejoong for fear of moving any closer.)
They’re quiet for a long time before anyone says anything. Jaejoong thought he should try. He cleared his throat, but was heavy in a way the top of his mouth burned after singing hard and loud for hours. “Where’s Changmin?” he asked - rasped. He closed his mouth and cleared his throat again. Fucking emotion.
Yunho looked up, but not at him. “He’s not joining you.”
“I didn’t ask that.” There was an edge to his voice that he didn’t mean. Yunho’s eyes flicked to him, annoyed, before resting on Yoochun.
“So what’s the verdict,” he asked like he already knew - ignoring Jaejoong and whatever brewing conflict would come with him. Jaejoong crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor tiles, and Junsu interpreted the question as an invitation to sit down.
Yoochun rolled his knuckles on the table. “We have a case,” he said it evenly; neutral. Not giving away any emotion, any feeling or bias. Yoochun was good for that, for mediating. He had a poker face like a priest, always misleadingly optimistic and warm. He could hide his emotions like a confessional full of molested choirboys and no one would know. Jaejoong thought that was scary, but admirable.
Yunho nodded once, pressing his lips together like he always does when he’s thinking. Calculating. He kept his face blank, firm set like he had cast it in plaster, and the practiced calm was wrong on him - it was all kind of wrong, the way Yoochun was mediating; the way that Junsu was trying not to move or make any noise like the slightest fluctuation would ruin everything; the way the vase on the counter was turned so the designs on it were facing the sink instead of the table.
“So that’s it then,” Yunho said finally. Junsu ran a hand over his face and Yoochun sighed, allowing himself an apprehensive.
“Not really,” he said. “We still have to go through the procedures, talk to our manager and the board. Talk to everyone, really. And then…”
“And then what?” Yunho prompted, still eerily calm. Yoochun shifted on his thighs and stretched his arms out - Jaejoong wanted to touch him because he was nervous, but he didn’t know if that would appear traitorous. He didn’t want to be a traitor.
Yoochun dropped his arms and shrugged. “And then… I don’t know. Adlibbing, I guess.”
Yunho scoffed; the first glimmer of emotion pushing its way through the plastic wrap barriers. “Adlibbing?” he seemed incredulous, mixed with surprise or pain or outrage. “Six years of work and sweat and breaking our backs for this, and you’re going to ‘wing it’?” Offended, then.
“We’re trying the best we can,” Junsu reasoned quietly. Yoochun added, “We can’t predict every possible outcome, but we’ve worked out the ones we could.”
Yunho wasn’t convinced. “And what if it doesn’t work out like you planned?”
He wasn’t so firm-set anymore - he was angry and hurt and he didn’t understand. He was different - his contract was different. He had a well-versed parent to lord over and protect him from big money corporations; he didn’t have to stay up until four A.M. waiting on perverted old men that wanted a cute little prepubescent butt to grope, or a family an oceans span away to burn on his conscience. Yoochun and I were alone, he thought, Junsu’s father is sweet but he isn’t a lawyer. We didn’t know what you did. We couldn’t have known. And then Jaejoong felt horribly guilty, because Yunho did struggle - he did suffer to get where he was, he slept in bus stations and cried himself into unconsciousness in bathroom stalls. Oh Yunho, Jaejoong thought. I didn’t mean it.
“Doesn’t matter,” he tried to explain, but the words didn’t make sense like they did in his head. “We have to try, Yunho. We have to try.”
”Why?” He was reserved anymore - but he didn’t sound angry. Distressed, maybe. “Why can’t you just wait it out? Why do you have to”-
”I’m not happy,” Jaejoong said dully. Junsu looked up sharply and Yoochun dropped his head like it was a lost fight. Yunho’s words turned to chalk in his mouth and he stood up and left the room.
Jaejoong didn’t feel like he’d helped any. He needed a cigarette; he couldn’t breath.
“Fuck,” he said shortly after, running a hand through his hair. So much for quitting.
-
When they were younger, all it had been was you’ll mature, you’ll grow into it. And they had made him a celebrity, so he had assumed they knew what they were talking about - that he’d grow into his fame, to the girls that get so excited when they see him, they cry. What they don’t tell him is fame will grow with you while it grows on you, and it’ll always be a little bit bigger than you’d like. That you can never see the end of it. That it’s like an ever-expanding ocean.
Red ocean, says Cassiopeia, waving their cheering sticks in one synchronized motion. It looked like a pulse, like it was living. And when he thought about it - maybe it was more alive than he was, sometimes. Moving when he was asleep, expanding when he was having lunch. Just pushing out.
The ‘Yunjae’ fangirls push and push for skinship, and when he winced up at the manager, all he said was “It’s what the fans want.” Jaejoong liked Yunho well enough, and he was beginning to have a deep, almost sinister appreciation for his fans, so he obliged. Touch Yunho a little more, give them something to fuel their collective mind. He peeked over Yunho’s shoulders when crowded in a variety show - wipes some spicy sauce off of his face. The fangirls photoshop pictures of them kissing eachother. If he were ever gay, he thought, he’d probably go for Yoochun.
Yoochun had a weird little swagger for a boy his age - Jaejoong liked the way he walked, like he was a stoned-out hippie, like everything was casual and he was constantly streaming to Bob Marley. The way his feet lifted and fell slowly, even when he was moving full-speed.
He’d walk around the apartment imitating the members - amble along like Yoochun; stand up straight and arrogant like Changmin; bulk out your arms and point the sides of your feet in a bit when you walk, you’re Junsu. Be tall and elegant and dignified, you’re Yunho, you’re a leader.
When he was being Jaejoong, he moved like he was small and self-conscience, moving like he was trying to get everyone to like him but he wasn’t sure how. After a while turned confident, and when he walks now, he struts. Put on a good show. He feels like a peacock sometimes at the airport, and when he’s in a good mood, he wiggles his butt for good measure.
He can do it now, but before he wasn’t sure how to move, what to say. He was told to be quiet a lot, keep your mouth closed, be mysterious. Every time someone talked to him he wanted to leap at them and cuddle into their shoulders, mold around them and never let go. But instead he nodded his head stiffly; Yeh. Yeh. Kamsahamnida. Yeh.
They come so far he feels full-circle. He’s moved from being someone else to being himself, and no one seems upset with him.
There was a lot of things in the media that weren’t really true; people said they never talked to eachother, that their relationship was strained. But it wasn’t.
Yunho was right - Changmin didn’t want a part of it either. He had considered it, but the Shims weren’t quitters - they were all loyalty and previous commitments. What did you sign to, keep your word, stand up straight, tuck in your shirt boy. So Changmin politely declined.
But they were TVXQ - brothers from numerous other mothers, Yoochun liked to say. “Five mothers, five brothers- Right! six mothers - sorry, Jaejoong.” They sat down, they talked about it, and everyone wept like a baby (though Changmin was strictly tearing up; nothing weepy-sobby like Yunho and Jaejoong and their six thousand boxes of tissues,) and then it was over with. Settled. Changmin and Yunho gave them their blessing and the others groveled for a bit, and then Jaejoong made a big breakfast as an apology in advanced for the shit storm they were about to go through.
And then one day Jaejoong woke up with Changmin storming around fiercely and Yunho crouched over on the couch, rubbing his forehead. Jaejoong realized there was something terribly wrong with the world at that moment.
Changmin turned on him as soon as he entered the living room. “How fucking could you?” He was red in the face. Jaejoong stared like a slack-jawed doll, unable to answer or gather what he was dealing with.
“We had an agreement, Jaejoong,” Yunho said evenly, both hands rubbing his face now. “We had an agreement.”
Jaejoong flustered - “I don’t understand”-
“CreBeau.” Changmin was always quick on his feet, thinking miles ahead of conversations so he could format and factor and get everything out the best way possible. The best way was often the way that hurt the most. “You said you wouldn’t do anything until after things were settled - that’s why we were supporting you in this. You can’t just- the fuck Jaejoong.”
“What?” The flustering didn’t stop - the room was heating up, but it wasn’t anger in his veins. Something about claustrophobia and being cornered; being tag teamed like a stranger. His throat burned. “CreBeau is just”-
“Just what?” Yunho asked, standing up now too. “Monetary gain? You signed a contract, Jaejoong. I thought we were doing this clean.”
“We are,” Jaejoong tried to defend - where was Yoochun when he needed him? Where was Junsu? Jaejoong couldn’t deal with confrontations, not these kinds. One night stands and baristas and his parents, maybe, if he was pissed enough, but he always ended up recoiling from the ones he loved. Don’t say something stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I honestly don’t.”
“The slander? The use of our name as an unlicensed advertising tool - that you’re leaving SM because you aren’t satisfied with the pay - are you expanding into China?” The questions; the unrelenting, rapid-fire questions-
“What? No”-
Accusations. You’re just after more money - they said they have tape recordings of you talking about it, Jaejoong! How could you ever treat us like this? How could you ever think of us like this? Is that all we were to you? A get rich quick scheme?
Who is ‘they,’ he wanted to ask. Who are they and why do you believe them when we’ve been together for years-
Yunho kept asking things Jaejoong didn’t understand - Changmin stormed around and chewed on his knuckles, trying to think things over logically, but welling up in his emotions to easily to use logic. He was like that, Changmin - logical until he burst, then it was a pure emotional ride until he got everything out.
When Yoochun woke up Jaejoong had never been so relieved.
“Rumors,” is all Yoochun said, and it the emotion in Changmin’s eyes started to dwindle. Yunho shook his head, though.
“No- our manager told us- Young Min said- we got it straight from the board”-
“Then they’re lying,” Yoochun reasoned. Yunho looked doubtful - there he was again with that passionate loyalty to where his name lied. Jaejoong thought it was ironic; he was TVXQ’s U-Know Yunho first and foremost, wasn’t he? “Are you seriously doubting us over people who have manipulated you into working on your only week off?”
Yunho calmed after that. Changmin was getting watery-eyed. “They just- they phoned and”-
Jaejoong sniffed and hugged them both, and Yoochun joined them quickly, nuzzling into the group warmth. “I’m sorry,” Jaejoong said.
Yunho was shaking - “No- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have believed it”-
“Propaganda,” Changmin whispers. “They’re pitting us against each other.”
“Don’t believe a word.” Jaejoong is full out crying now, clinging onto them like he’d crumple the moment they left. And he would. There wasn’t a day he woke up anymore without feeling like he was made up of five parts; a little bit of all of them, at their best and their worst. “I love you all too much please don’t listen to them”-
“Shhh, Jaejoong,” someone cooed - all of them cooed; it was like one communal voice, all of them hushing and cuddling. ‘We’re sorry, we’re all so sorry.’
Everyone knew pretty early on that Jaejoong was the most attached to the name - to the group, the warmth, the idea of a close-knit inseparable family; of having five brothers (or six, he supposed he needed to remember that he had another brother now. And then nine sisters, that would be.) Anyways it was before then that he’d clung to it, and everyone knew he’d be the last to let go.
It was just jokes at first - it was an assortment of “I want to be in TVXQ when I’m eighty,” and “when I get married I want to still live with the members.” And it was fine; everyone had their laugh, wiped the tears from their eyes and patted him on the back. Then, suddenly, he wasn’t kidding anymore.
It was after he found out he was adopted, he thinks. He clutched onto Junsu for a week - because Junsu strokes his hair when he’s being comforting, and Jaejoong loves being pet - and then crawled into bed with Changmin. He cuddled up to Yunho on stage more, wrapped himself around Yoochun on the couch and refused to let go. Hugs and kisses on the cheek all around - cuddles and subtle bum-pats. Falling asleep in dog piles. He didn’t cry when he found out, though he couldn’t say he’d suspected it beforehand. He’d never had the slightest inclination, really. Surprise surprise. His sisters never teased him the way some siblings did, though they did sometimes argue over nail polish colours (the light, light light pink almost-glaze colour was his favourite.)
But it was hard; and absence of tears didn’t mean it wasn’t. He didn’t know how to feel. And then Changmin came home with ice cream and demanded they watch some sappy Korean movies and all commiserate together, and it just clicked. Sitting there with their individual ice cream tubs, all sniffling over some fated lovers with terminal diseases, Jaejoong felt like this is it. This is my family. These are the people I would die to defend. And then he smiled, because he knew right then and there the way he loves them is fierce and unbridled, and that kind of devotion is beautiful. Pure. For the first time he felt like he was part of a collection, all carved from the same stone.
Then Yunho made an angry noise, because Jaejoong looked so damned happy and everyone was crying. ‘You sadistic bastard,’ he had said, ‘you planned this!’ Jaejoong couldn’t defend himself because he knew the lengths he’d go to just to make someone cry for him - that pleasurable feeling of being grieved over. So he hugged them and said, that’s it, I give up, I’m living with you all until I die of herpes.
“You can’t die of herpes,” Changmin said, but even with that smart-ass tone he still looked as pathetic and sniffly as the rest of them.
”Shut up,” Jaejoong had retorted. “Why do you know so much about STDs anyways, Min-dolin.”
He hated it when he called him that. Jaejoong didn’t manage to get a rise out of him, though - Changmin just kept eating his ice cream. “Someone has to be able to diagnose you when you’re too scared to go to the hospital.”
There was a collection of ‘ooooh burn’s, because that’s what they said a lot at the time, and Jaejoong smiled. Never better.
-
The last time they went to the beach, there was ice cream and late-teen testosterone driven competition. It was the first time they were standing on sand and not having to worry about how to pose for photos, or what to say for the ‘making of’ video - thus, it was all games. Who can build the biggest sand castle; who can run from this end of the beach to that end fastest; who can throw this giant rock into the ocean; who can climb that dangerously rotting tree? (Junsu won, but only because he was tinier at the time and he went up against Yoochun, who pissed on the thing first. Karma, said Changmin. Karma-karma.)
It was before Jaejoong really started working out, but after Yunho fixed his mouth and was informed his chest was just fatty and he didn't have breast cancer. Changmin ran around kicking sand at strangers and Yunho had to scurry after him and apologize, and then scurry some more and reprimand. Junsu was giddy and stupid and schemed to bury everyone (he also formulated plans to enable the ‘accidental’ grazing of his hand to one of their asses one time too many) and Yoochun took it upon himself to be around when it happened (so he could snicker and sing some inappropriate English song about how Jaejoong ‘got back.’)
Amongst it all, Jaejoong felt lost and awkward (and ugly when he laughed) and wanted to belong. He had been watching a lot of European porn lately, and decided to cultivate what he’d been learning.
“Anything you say at the beach can be an innuendo,” he informed them all sincerely - so out for their best interest. Junsu asked what he’d meant, so he said, “Sexy times, Junsu. The good ol’ vertical gearshift.”
“The what-what?” Yoochun was laughing so hard he was crying - Jaejoong was really starting to appreciate Yoochun, around then. All the corruption from America helped him understand Jaejoong perfectly, and he laughed at all his jokes.
After announcing it, he ran around heckling the other members, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively after every sentence. Changmin swatted at him a few times, and Junsu said he’d pray for him, if he’d like.
“Let’s go play in the waves,” Changmin suggested - in that way he was doe-eyed and only seventeen. Jaejoong arched his back and let out a long, disturbed moan.
“Oh, I’ll play in your waves.”
Yunho was trying to be leaderly, so he said, “Hyung, quit being disgusting,” but he had to stop himself from laughing when Changmin blushed and starting sputtering.
A lot of things happened that day. The best thing was when Junsu dropped his ice cream and the birds went at it. They kaw’d at him when he tried to get close, and Junsu didn’t know how to scare off birds as much as he knew how to wail and beg for more ice cream.
“You vulture,” Jaejoong had complained, but he handed him his cone anyways. Junsu gave him a big wet kiss on the cheek and lapped up Jaejoong’s half-eaten vanilla cone.
“Ewe, vanilla,” Junsu pulled a face but ate it anyways. “This is the most boring flavor ever.”
Jaejoong wanted to say something like beggars can’t be choosers, but instead he said, “It goes with everything.”
‘They’ - the corporations, the media, the rumor-mill - played dirty, because they got their parents involved. Sticking to your word was a big thing to Yunho - Changmin, too - and even if it really wasn’t your word to begin with, you have to defend your family’s honour. Sit down, bite your tongue, speak when spoken to. Straighten your tie, you look like a mongrel.
It was never that bad, but Jaejoong always thought that’s what it would sound like. Cut your hair, you look like a girl. Is that perfume? You want to be a singer? No son of mine is gay!
There was a strange sense of being abandoned when the press released those statements - Changmin and Yunho’s father calling him and Junsu and Yoochun out as selfish money-hungry traitors. He had dinner with them only a month ago, but now he felt like he was standing on the other side of wall. (Other side of the country.)
Yoochun told him to take it with a grain of salt - it was just the media monster feeding and fueling itself, spewing out blatant lies to sell boost sales - but after a while, Changmin stopped calling. Yunho would still take his calls, but he something would always come up. “Huh? Oh, that’s great Jaejoong- I have to go. Yeah- some stuff.”
He’d suppose it was more of a social-pressure than anything - in Korea, everything was one side or another. If anyone caught them calling each other, it could cause them grief at SM. Jaejoong didn’t want to cause them trouble anymore than he wanted trouble - but the lies kept coming, magazines kept publishing, fans became torn.
Yoochun told them all to “Always Keep the Faith” - all capitals except the ‘the,’ he said. The special secret everyone knew. Then Yoochun and him get a little drunk and emotional and paste it on their chests - right over their hearts. Junsu shook his head at them, but he appreciated the thought.
“I have two tattoos for TVXQ on me,” Jaejoong said. “It’s in my skin, it’s never leaving me now.”
“It’s seeping into your brain, I think,” Junsu said. “Branding yourself.”
“He’s a cow,” Yoochun said. “He can’t help it.”
On his back it had been a glaring reminder to everyone behind him - TVXQ was his soul; it’s what made up his insides. But he didn’t want it to just be behind him. He wanted to see it when he looked in the mirror. He wanted it on his heart, but open heart-tattoo hadn’t been done before (at least, not that he knew of,) and his doctor advised against it. Settling for second best, then.
Months passed and there wasn’t any word. Jaejoong was starting to feel sick, like he was missing something important - a big banner across the sky. Yunho and Changmin were in Japan when they were in Korea, and Korea when they were in Japan. They were always conveniently overbooked and unable to meet, all of them. He was starting to miss them like a fish missed water.
Changmin had called about three weeks ago; a little bit drunk, Jaejoong thought. Changmin always drank alone, because he got clingy and emotional and cried a lot. It wasn’t sexy like Yoochun could be - it wasn’t loose or open or social like Jaejoong. Even when Jaejoong spewed his intoxicated feelings all over the place, it was still more pathetic and endearing than messy.
Changmin was messy when he felt things. He’d trash the bathroom when he was angry - unroll the toilet paper roll and get water all over the counter. Then he’d be okay, but he wouldn’t clean it up, because he didn’t know how. Jaejoong would have to harrumph and lug himself in after him, rerolling the tissue and wiping up the water. (For the record, toilet paper doesn’t roll-back-up. It’s always loose after, and you can tell it’s been disturbed. The sides aren’t uniform and the roll is fluffy.)
Jaejoong had been sleeping, but he was craving some cynicism, so he talked to Changmin for a few hours. He wasn’t sure how it turned into a shouting match.
“You’re abandoning us,” Changmin yelled. “You’re being selfish. You’re ruining everything!”
Jaejoong yelled something rude and petty that he didn’t even remember feeling and hung up. He felt sick, but he’d sleep it off.
In the morning he felt worse - like he wasn’t sure things were all right anymore. He didn’t want to tell Yoochun about it; he said things he didn’t mean, but Changmin did too, and when they met up next time, they were going to laugh about how stupid they had been. They’d hug each other. He could see it in his mind - he would crush his dongsaeng to his chest and kiss him on the nose and Changmin would make a face at him and say something like “you’re terrible, hyung. You’re so terrible.”
It was going to be okay, because they were still Tohoshinki under Avex in Japan, and they had promotions to do. They needed to promote Break out!, after all.
They hadn't seen each other in months, and Jaejoong was just frantic to see them and touch them and hold them again. The last time they’d all been together was for a short segment to promote Break out!, and Jaejoong felt like Changmin was pushing as far away from him as he could, nearly melting into Yunho’s side. But they all talked after, laughing and joking around, though it had taken a few seconds to break into. Everyone was doing something - Yunho was finishing up his drama, Junsu was offered another musical spot. Changmin, Yoochun and he were all offered dramas of their own. They all accepted. Congratulations went around.
But it had been months with sparsely any contact and a lot of rumors running around the mill - most, even Jaejoong couldn’t tell if they were true or not. It felt like years since he was on stage with them, singing their hearts out, talking and laughing. They weren’t on stage today - they were recording the final episode of Big East radio.
“For now,” he said gently. Yunho looked at him from across the table and nodded stiffly.
“For now,” he agreed.
As soon recording was over and he finished talking to the staff, he rushed to meet the others. He spotted Changmin across the room, shuffling some things around in his bag. He stood for a while, awkwardly, waiting for the younger man to notice him. Changmin slung his bag over his shoulder and turned, meeting Jaejoong’s eyes. As soon as Changmin looked at him, he was rushing forward, arms out, ready to crush the shit out of his baby. But Changmin looked away - away from Jaejoong and the armful of ‘I miss you’s he was eagerly offering - and walked. And Jaejoong stood there like a fool, arms open and taking in the air that used to be Changmin, not really understanding why he wasn’t warm or reassured.
He dropped his arms, agonized over every second he could see Changmin’s back leaving him, and gnawed on his lower lip.
He sobbed like a baby in the car, and even Yoochun can do nothing to comfort him. He wanted longer arms around his shoulders, and the air wasn't tense enough with Yoochuns smooth ‘it's okay’s. He wanted Changmin snuggling up against him, stuttering out awkwardly comforting facts about valence electrons and male seahorses giving birth. He didn’t want an explanation - he wanted useless, random information with no relevance. He wanted Changmin. He wanted Yunho.
Changmin grumbled an empty (but graphic) death threat and pushed Jaejoong away, tugging the covers and holding them tightly in his arms. Jaejoong whined - because Jaejoong always whined - and snuggled into the younger boys back, basking in the warmth. “I’m freezing,” he mumbled against Changmin’s neck. “I think I have bad circulation.”
“Not a doctor,” Changmin groaned out his reminder. Jaejoong thought he was still rather witty for a half-asleep sixteen year old. He didn’t think he was ever that witty at sixteen.
“But you are warm,” Jaejoong continued, and then he curled his arms around him, not really minding that his butt and legs were cooling now that Changmin had stolen most of his blankets back.
He was getting to be notorious amongst them for crawling into bed at three am, stealing all the covers and sprawling out like a crucifix over the mattress. Junsu was the one with the most problems with it - he liked his space, and sometimes Jaejoong made faces in his sleep and they creeped Junsu out.
“You’re like a werewolf,” Junsu said seriously one day. Jaejoong stared for a long time at him, because nowhere in his mind did face-making equate to lycanthropy. But Junsu seemed pretty convinced so he let him think that.
Yunho said he didn’t mind so much because Jaejoong was warmish - but that just meant that Yunho was colder and the entire purpose of sneaking into bed with someone else was to suck up their body heat, so he only really ventured into bed with Yunho after everyone else kicked him out (or locked their doors.) “See,” he said. “Not a werewolf. Werewolves don’t suck.”
Junsu scrutinized him. “How would you know so much about werewolves unless you were a werewolf?”
Yoochun snorted from the hallway and Jaejoong could hear a faint ‘touché’ - and then Yunho turned around the way he did when he solved arguments and pointed at them like red-handed children.
“First of all,” he said. “Jaejoong is almost entirely hairless, even in sleep. If anyone is a werewolf in this household, it’s Changmin”- there was an indignant ‘hey!’ from the kitchen, and Jaejoong feels a bit offended because he’s tried to grow body hair, but Yunho’s on a roll. -“Secondly, in order to complete a drastic transformation such as turning into a beastly man-eater, Jaejoong would need to have a huge daily intake of calories, which he doesn’t.”
“Changmin does,” Yoochun added helpfully from the hall.
“Again with the ‘Hey!’” Changmin protested from the kitchen.
“Third,” Yunho continued to lecture as if Yoochun and Changmin’s bickering didn’t exist. “If you’re goal is to suck warmth from other people, then you’re a leech. Congratulations and good night.”
Jaejoong wasn’t really anymore pleased with that option; he said, “A leech? Why can’t I be something cooler than that - like a vampire or something?”
“Oh hush. If you wanted ‘cool,’ you should have stuck with werewolf,” Yunho scolded. Jaejoong hung his head in shame, realizing that was very true.
“Why are you here,” Changmin grumbled sleepily - his voice rising out of nowhere - and Jaejoong was surprised he was still awake.
Jaejoong nuzzled him. “Sleep. Warmth sucking. Remember?”
There was a silence in which Jaejoong figured Changmin fell asleep. He settled on making himself more comfortable, pressing a little closer to the smaller teen and closing his eyes. Time was slowing when Changmin broke the silence again.
“I mean the other reason,” he said. His voice was thick and Jaejoong thought he might be getting sick. He should pick up some vitamin C tomorrow.
He pouted, letting out an air that completely deflated his sense of mystery. “You think we’ll be big?” he asked.
Changmin shifted and sniffed sleepily, “’Course. Everyone grows, Jaejoong.”
Jaejoong scoffed at both the sarcasm and the absence of honorifics - Changmin had started to feel like he was a little bit smarter than Jaejoong, so he dropped them whenever he could. “I meant like Dong Bang Shin Ki,” he explained, but it was needless, because Changmin rolled over and pressed his face into Jaejoong’s neck and said “I did, too.”
Maybe you are smarter than me, Jaejoong thought, but he said; “How can you be sure? What if something happens?”
“A la H.O.T.” Changmin said it like he knew exactly what Jaejoong was thinking. His breath was warm against his collar. Jaejoong frowned and clutched him tighter. They were quiet for a while - Jaejoong was hoping to just fall asleep and had probably already dozed off. Younger people were like that- sleeping easier. Changmin was so emotionless and cool. He was so analytical, like he could look you over and tell you what you wanted for dinner. He knew things like that.
Jaejoong gave up hope on an answer and nodded off, and when he woke up, it was little passed six in the morning and Changmin was staring at the ceiling. He watched him, curling the covers under his chin.
“We won’t,” Changmin said quietly. Jaejoong knew he meant break up.
“Why? I mean how could you know? What if everyone hates me”- the list was rambly and ongoing. Changmin sighed like he was a burdened old man and patted Jaejoong’s head.
“You worry too much. We won’t break up because we’re too good for that. And I wouldn’t let it happen.”
“Even if everyone hated me?” Jaejoong fretted.
“Even if everyone hated you,” Changmin assured.
Jaejoong frowned. “Even if you hated me?”
Changmin stilled, eyes trained on the ceiling for a while, before they fell to the older boy. Changmin rolled his eyes and hit him. “You’re dumb,” he said, but Jaejoong knew what he really meant. All the physical cues are there. I wouldn’t let it happen, he thought to himself in Changmin’s voice. I couldn’t hate you for too long.
“Because I’m cute,” Jaejoong said, but he realized directly afterwards that it made no sense in context to what Changmin had said verbally. Changmin looked at him like he had grown another head - and he’d suppose that with a marginal amount less sense, Jaejoong might actually consider that he had.
“You’re lucky you’re good looking,” Changmin said as he sat up. “Otherwise you’d have nothing going for you.”
-
"You okay, Jae?" Yoochun asks. Jaejoong wonders when they stopped calling him hyung - he sends Yoochun a watery smile, but nods.
And suddenly Jaejoong is soaked head to toe. He sputters, gasp, glares through the water, and when he's calm enough to notice, he hears Junsu’s laughter from behind him. He's up before he can remember moving, limbs flailing through the hot sand.
"Oh my goodness, you're so wet!" Junsu teases greasily, confident with his three centimeter-lead. But Jaejoong isn’t a stick with skin anymore, and Junsu hasn’t been doing much but eating and playing video games lately. It doesn’t help that he trips over his feet and ‘oohps’ and that Jaejoong is ruthless when scorned.
Jaejoong tackles him to the ground. He hasn’t laughed so hard in what seems like years, and damn, it feels good.
x
in other news; i finished reading the year of the flood today and decided i've detoxed from fanfic enough to ease back into it; so if you've posted anything in the last few weeks i'm going to be reading it soon enough.
i'm going through my WIP folder on my computer - it's like, 3GB of unfinished stories - and am going to try to get as much done as i can before it's january and i'm in uni.
also, really, really mean it. the next thing i post is going to be happy. promise.
one-shot | lawsuit-bandfic, jaejoong-centric (i... have a problem,), OT3/OT5bits. swearing, arguements and flashbacks, angst-fest: some rambling; PG-13 (6386 Words.)
warning: read with a grain of salt; this isn't my take on the lawsuit because i have no idea what's going on, but it's something. a plot. a story.
the disclaimer remains that "i don't own the boys, and if i did, i would honestly have better things to do than write about them.
this is for scarletpeonies because a hundred years ago she wanted to read bandfic and i got an idea. hope you don't mind angst u.u the next thing i post is going to be upbeat, i promise.
this hasn't been beta'd, so, y'know, sorry. and if you could point out any glaring errors i think i'd love you for an eternity, thanks so much!
They head to the seaside in a lackluster attempt to celebrate their seemingly limitless free time. On the ride down, Junsu is rambling on about beach-monster-waves and how he can’t wait for ice cream trolley because then he can get bubblegum and cotton candy and no! butterscotch-walnut-ripple how could I have forgotten Jaejoong how could I have forgotten-
Yoochun taps the steering wheel and smirks a little. Jaejoong thinks he can feel Yoochuns eyes on him, but he has a brown-washed pair of shades nestled on his nose that make it impossible to tell. He feels a little comforted by the tug of Yoochuns lips - the way he’s amused but isn’t going to say anything. Jaejoong smiles, too, and puts his arm out the window, letting it fall back in the wind. There are mixed feelings competing for land in his gut and he’s apprehensive about the situation, and the breeze is a nice distraction.
When the hour-and-forty-five-minute long drive is over, Junsu is out of the machine and into the sand before Jaejoong can yell precautions after him. “Yah- Sunblock!” He still tries to be the one holding everything together. Yoochun snorts and tosses him a sideways look, throws a towel over his shoulder and begins ambling down to the shoreline. Jaejoong can smell the salt in the air; Yoochuns flip flops crunch in the grains and smack against his toes, and the sand stretches on for years.
Yoochun spends most of his time laying on his stomach on the sand, sound muffling headphones covering his ears in an endless stream of music. Junsu wears his mischievous face and scuttles around, feigning casual interest in the sea shells, jumping out of a supposed no where to bombard Yoochun with sand when he thinks he isn't looking - and Yoochun is always one step ahead of him, rolling or tossing something at Junsu that he had been to nonchalant to notice. Yoochun has eyes in the back of his head, but Junsu had hoped maybe the thick black headband of his earphones had covered them. As it turns out, Yoochun has eyes all over the place - on the back of his arms, elbows, the nubs of his toes; in Jaejoong flashing shimmering-bands of sunlight as a warning with his compact mirror.
(There's a kid with a bucket and Junsu is has never been more jealous, because it would be so much easier to surprise!bury Yoochun if he had a bucket or shovel or something other than his stout and useless limbs. He makes eyes at Jaejoong for about twenty minutes before Jaejoong proposes thievery. Junsu doesn't know if he's joking or not, so his laughter seems inappropriate, even for Jaejoong.)
Jaejoong wastes his sunlight alternating between two main distractions; applying sun block because if he has to get cancer it’s going to be because he smokes and not because of some fucking yellow thing in the sky, he would rather not return to Korea looking as if he had fallen into a vat of chocolate ice cream (oh, what, this? well you see you can just lick it off-,) and swallowing down the heaviness in his throat whenever that application of lotion lulls, and he remembers how wrong it is to be enjoying the warmth - enjoying anything - with two less souls beside him.
"God," he mutters, and in the distance, he can see Junsu taking on an intimidating wave. Yoochun looks at him curiously, having seen his lips move but heard nothing but bass and bongo drums, and Jaejoong shakes his head once, flopping back against the sand. He feels Yoochuns foot patting the bare skin of his stomach (comfort) and sighs - maybe he doesn't have to say anything for them to know. Maybe they can feel it too.
Yoochun starts humming something annoyingly happy, tracing circles in the sand with his fingertips, and Jaejoong stares directly at the sun, wondering if they had been lying when they told him it was blinding.
-
The first thing they saw when they got back was Yunho sitting at the dining table. His hands were fixed together like they’d been glued; he was so still Jaejoong thought maybe he had been flash frozen.
He didn’t look at them or say anything, but his lips were pursed like he might try to. Yoochun sat down across from him, gingerly, and Junsu and Jaejoong stood back a little ways to let the other man tally the damage. (Junsu waiting for a cue; Jaejoong for fear of moving any closer.)
They’re quiet for a long time before anyone says anything. Jaejoong thought he should try. He cleared his throat, but was heavy in a way the top of his mouth burned after singing hard and loud for hours. “Where’s Changmin?” he asked - rasped. He closed his mouth and cleared his throat again. Fucking emotion.
Yunho looked up, but not at him. “He’s not joining you.”
“I didn’t ask that.” There was an edge to his voice that he didn’t mean. Yunho’s eyes flicked to him, annoyed, before resting on Yoochun.
“So what’s the verdict,” he asked like he already knew - ignoring Jaejoong and whatever brewing conflict would come with him. Jaejoong crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor tiles, and Junsu interpreted the question as an invitation to sit down.
Yoochun rolled his knuckles on the table. “We have a case,” he said it evenly; neutral. Not giving away any emotion, any feeling or bias. Yoochun was good for that, for mediating. He had a poker face like a priest, always misleadingly optimistic and warm. He could hide his emotions like a confessional full of molested choirboys and no one would know. Jaejoong thought that was scary, but admirable.
Yunho nodded once, pressing his lips together like he always does when he’s thinking. Calculating. He kept his face blank, firm set like he had cast it in plaster, and the practiced calm was wrong on him - it was all kind of wrong, the way Yoochun was mediating; the way that Junsu was trying not to move or make any noise like the slightest fluctuation would ruin everything; the way the vase on the counter was turned so the designs on it were facing the sink instead of the table.
“So that’s it then,” Yunho said finally. Junsu ran a hand over his face and Yoochun sighed, allowing himself an apprehensive.
“Not really,” he said. “We still have to go through the procedures, talk to our manager and the board. Talk to everyone, really. And then…”
“And then what?” Yunho prompted, still eerily calm. Yoochun shifted on his thighs and stretched his arms out - Jaejoong wanted to touch him because he was nervous, but he didn’t know if that would appear traitorous. He didn’t want to be a traitor.
Yoochun dropped his arms and shrugged. “And then… I don’t know. Adlibbing, I guess.”
Yunho scoffed; the first glimmer of emotion pushing its way through the plastic wrap barriers. “Adlibbing?” he seemed incredulous, mixed with surprise or pain or outrage. “Six years of work and sweat and breaking our backs for this, and you’re going to ‘wing it’?” Offended, then.
“We’re trying the best we can,” Junsu reasoned quietly. Yoochun added, “We can’t predict every possible outcome, but we’ve worked out the ones we could.”
Yunho wasn’t convinced. “And what if it doesn’t work out like you planned?”
He wasn’t so firm-set anymore - he was angry and hurt and he didn’t understand. He was different - his contract was different. He had a well-versed parent to lord over and protect him from big money corporations; he didn’t have to stay up until four A.M. waiting on perverted old men that wanted a cute little prepubescent butt to grope, or a family an oceans span away to burn on his conscience. Yoochun and I were alone, he thought, Junsu’s father is sweet but he isn’t a lawyer. We didn’t know what you did. We couldn’t have known. And then Jaejoong felt horribly guilty, because Yunho did struggle - he did suffer to get where he was, he slept in bus stations and cried himself into unconsciousness in bathroom stalls. Oh Yunho, Jaejoong thought. I didn’t mean it.
“Doesn’t matter,” he tried to explain, but the words didn’t make sense like they did in his head. “We have to try, Yunho. We have to try.”
”Why?” He was reserved anymore - but he didn’t sound angry. Distressed, maybe. “Why can’t you just wait it out? Why do you have to”-
”I’m not happy,” Jaejoong said dully. Junsu looked up sharply and Yoochun dropped his head like it was a lost fight. Yunho’s words turned to chalk in his mouth and he stood up and left the room.
Jaejoong didn’t feel like he’d helped any. He needed a cigarette; he couldn’t breath.
“Fuck,” he said shortly after, running a hand through his hair. So much for quitting.
-
When they were younger, all it had been was you’ll mature, you’ll grow into it. And they had made him a celebrity, so he had assumed they knew what they were talking about - that he’d grow into his fame, to the girls that get so excited when they see him, they cry. What they don’t tell him is fame will grow with you while it grows on you, and it’ll always be a little bit bigger than you’d like. That you can never see the end of it. That it’s like an ever-expanding ocean.
Red ocean, says Cassiopeia, waving their cheering sticks in one synchronized motion. It looked like a pulse, like it was living. And when he thought about it - maybe it was more alive than he was, sometimes. Moving when he was asleep, expanding when he was having lunch. Just pushing out.
The ‘Yunjae’ fangirls push and push for skinship, and when he winced up at the manager, all he said was “It’s what the fans want.” Jaejoong liked Yunho well enough, and he was beginning to have a deep, almost sinister appreciation for his fans, so he obliged. Touch Yunho a little more, give them something to fuel their collective mind. He peeked over Yunho’s shoulders when crowded in a variety show - wipes some spicy sauce off of his face. The fangirls photoshop pictures of them kissing eachother. If he were ever gay, he thought, he’d probably go for Yoochun.
Yoochun had a weird little swagger for a boy his age - Jaejoong liked the way he walked, like he was a stoned-out hippie, like everything was casual and he was constantly streaming to Bob Marley. The way his feet lifted and fell slowly, even when he was moving full-speed.
He’d walk around the apartment imitating the members - amble along like Yoochun; stand up straight and arrogant like Changmin; bulk out your arms and point the sides of your feet in a bit when you walk, you’re Junsu. Be tall and elegant and dignified, you’re Yunho, you’re a leader.
When he was being Jaejoong, he moved like he was small and self-conscience, moving like he was trying to get everyone to like him but he wasn’t sure how. After a while turned confident, and when he walks now, he struts. Put on a good show. He feels like a peacock sometimes at the airport, and when he’s in a good mood, he wiggles his butt for good measure.
He can do it now, but before he wasn’t sure how to move, what to say. He was told to be quiet a lot, keep your mouth closed, be mysterious. Every time someone talked to him he wanted to leap at them and cuddle into their shoulders, mold around them and never let go. But instead he nodded his head stiffly; Yeh. Yeh. Kamsahamnida. Yeh.
They come so far he feels full-circle. He’s moved from being someone else to being himself, and no one seems upset with him.
There was a lot of things in the media that weren’t really true; people said they never talked to eachother, that their relationship was strained. But it wasn’t.
Yunho was right - Changmin didn’t want a part of it either. He had considered it, but the Shims weren’t quitters - they were all loyalty and previous commitments. What did you sign to, keep your word, stand up straight, tuck in your shirt boy. So Changmin politely declined.
But they were TVXQ - brothers from numerous other mothers, Yoochun liked to say. “Five mothers, five brothers- Right! six mothers - sorry, Jaejoong.” They sat down, they talked about it, and everyone wept like a baby (though Changmin was strictly tearing up; nothing weepy-sobby like Yunho and Jaejoong and their six thousand boxes of tissues,) and then it was over with. Settled. Changmin and Yunho gave them their blessing and the others groveled for a bit, and then Jaejoong made a big breakfast as an apology in advanced for the shit storm they were about to go through.
And then one day Jaejoong woke up with Changmin storming around fiercely and Yunho crouched over on the couch, rubbing his forehead. Jaejoong realized there was something terribly wrong with the world at that moment.
Changmin turned on him as soon as he entered the living room. “How fucking could you?” He was red in the face. Jaejoong stared like a slack-jawed doll, unable to answer or gather what he was dealing with.
“We had an agreement, Jaejoong,” Yunho said evenly, both hands rubbing his face now. “We had an agreement.”
Jaejoong flustered - “I don’t understand”-
“CreBeau.” Changmin was always quick on his feet, thinking miles ahead of conversations so he could format and factor and get everything out the best way possible. The best way was often the way that hurt the most. “You said you wouldn’t do anything until after things were settled - that’s why we were supporting you in this. You can’t just- the fuck Jaejoong.”
“What?” The flustering didn’t stop - the room was heating up, but it wasn’t anger in his veins. Something about claustrophobia and being cornered; being tag teamed like a stranger. His throat burned. “CreBeau is just”-
“Just what?” Yunho asked, standing up now too. “Monetary gain? You signed a contract, Jaejoong. I thought we were doing this clean.”
“We are,” Jaejoong tried to defend - where was Yoochun when he needed him? Where was Junsu? Jaejoong couldn’t deal with confrontations, not these kinds. One night stands and baristas and his parents, maybe, if he was pissed enough, but he always ended up recoiling from the ones he loved. Don’t say something stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I honestly don’t.”
“The slander? The use of our name as an unlicensed advertising tool - that you’re leaving SM because you aren’t satisfied with the pay - are you expanding into China?” The questions; the unrelenting, rapid-fire questions-
“What? No”-
Accusations. You’re just after more money - they said they have tape recordings of you talking about it, Jaejoong! How could you ever treat us like this? How could you ever think of us like this? Is that all we were to you? A get rich quick scheme?
Who is ‘they,’ he wanted to ask. Who are they and why do you believe them when we’ve been together for years-
Yunho kept asking things Jaejoong didn’t understand - Changmin stormed around and chewed on his knuckles, trying to think things over logically, but welling up in his emotions to easily to use logic. He was like that, Changmin - logical until he burst, then it was a pure emotional ride until he got everything out.
When Yoochun woke up Jaejoong had never been so relieved.
“Rumors,” is all Yoochun said, and it the emotion in Changmin’s eyes started to dwindle. Yunho shook his head, though.
“No- our manager told us- Young Min said- we got it straight from the board”-
“Then they’re lying,” Yoochun reasoned. Yunho looked doubtful - there he was again with that passionate loyalty to where his name lied. Jaejoong thought it was ironic; he was TVXQ’s U-Know Yunho first and foremost, wasn’t he? “Are you seriously doubting us over people who have manipulated you into working on your only week off?”
Yunho calmed after that. Changmin was getting watery-eyed. “They just- they phoned and”-
Jaejoong sniffed and hugged them both, and Yoochun joined them quickly, nuzzling into the group warmth. “I’m sorry,” Jaejoong said.
Yunho was shaking - “No- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have believed it”-
“Propaganda,” Changmin whispers. “They’re pitting us against each other.”
“Don’t believe a word.” Jaejoong is full out crying now, clinging onto them like he’d crumple the moment they left. And he would. There wasn’t a day he woke up anymore without feeling like he was made up of five parts; a little bit of all of them, at their best and their worst. “I love you all too much please don’t listen to them”-
“Shhh, Jaejoong,” someone cooed - all of them cooed; it was like one communal voice, all of them hushing and cuddling. ‘We’re sorry, we’re all so sorry.’
Everyone knew pretty early on that Jaejoong was the most attached to the name - to the group, the warmth, the idea of a close-knit inseparable family; of having five brothers (or six, he supposed he needed to remember that he had another brother now. And then nine sisters, that would be.) Anyways it was before then that he’d clung to it, and everyone knew he’d be the last to let go.
It was just jokes at first - it was an assortment of “I want to be in TVXQ when I’m eighty,” and “when I get married I want to still live with the members.” And it was fine; everyone had their laugh, wiped the tears from their eyes and patted him on the back. Then, suddenly, he wasn’t kidding anymore.
It was after he found out he was adopted, he thinks. He clutched onto Junsu for a week - because Junsu strokes his hair when he’s being comforting, and Jaejoong loves being pet - and then crawled into bed with Changmin. He cuddled up to Yunho on stage more, wrapped himself around Yoochun on the couch and refused to let go. Hugs and kisses on the cheek all around - cuddles and subtle bum-pats. Falling asleep in dog piles. He didn’t cry when he found out, though he couldn’t say he’d suspected it beforehand. He’d never had the slightest inclination, really. Surprise surprise. His sisters never teased him the way some siblings did, though they did sometimes argue over nail polish colours (the light, light light pink almost-glaze colour was his favourite.)
But it was hard; and absence of tears didn’t mean it wasn’t. He didn’t know how to feel. And then Changmin came home with ice cream and demanded they watch some sappy Korean movies and all commiserate together, and it just clicked. Sitting there with their individual ice cream tubs, all sniffling over some fated lovers with terminal diseases, Jaejoong felt like this is it. This is my family. These are the people I would die to defend. And then he smiled, because he knew right then and there the way he loves them is fierce and unbridled, and that kind of devotion is beautiful. Pure. For the first time he felt like he was part of a collection, all carved from the same stone.
Then Yunho made an angry noise, because Jaejoong looked so damned happy and everyone was crying. ‘You sadistic bastard,’ he had said, ‘you planned this!’ Jaejoong couldn’t defend himself because he knew the lengths he’d go to just to make someone cry for him - that pleasurable feeling of being grieved over. So he hugged them and said, that’s it, I give up, I’m living with you all until I die of herpes.
“You can’t die of herpes,” Changmin said, but even with that smart-ass tone he still looked as pathetic and sniffly as the rest of them.
”Shut up,” Jaejoong had retorted. “Why do you know so much about STDs anyways, Min-dolin.”
He hated it when he called him that. Jaejoong didn’t manage to get a rise out of him, though - Changmin just kept eating his ice cream. “Someone has to be able to diagnose you when you’re too scared to go to the hospital.”
There was a collection of ‘ooooh burn’s, because that’s what they said a lot at the time, and Jaejoong smiled. Never better.
-
The last time they went to the beach, there was ice cream and late-teen testosterone driven competition. It was the first time they were standing on sand and not having to worry about how to pose for photos, or what to say for the ‘making of’ video - thus, it was all games. Who can build the biggest sand castle; who can run from this end of the beach to that end fastest; who can throw this giant rock into the ocean; who can climb that dangerously rotting tree? (Junsu won, but only because he was tinier at the time and he went up against Yoochun, who pissed on the thing first. Karma, said Changmin. Karma-karma.)
It was before Jaejoong really started working out, but after Yunho fixed his mouth and was informed his chest was just fatty and he didn't have breast cancer. Changmin ran around kicking sand at strangers and Yunho had to scurry after him and apologize, and then scurry some more and reprimand. Junsu was giddy and stupid and schemed to bury everyone (he also formulated plans to enable the ‘accidental’ grazing of his hand to one of their asses one time too many) and Yoochun took it upon himself to be around when it happened (so he could snicker and sing some inappropriate English song about how Jaejoong ‘got back.’)
Amongst it all, Jaejoong felt lost and awkward (and ugly when he laughed) and wanted to belong. He had been watching a lot of European porn lately, and decided to cultivate what he’d been learning.
“Anything you say at the beach can be an innuendo,” he informed them all sincerely - so out for their best interest. Junsu asked what he’d meant, so he said, “Sexy times, Junsu. The good ol’ vertical gearshift.”
“The what-what?” Yoochun was laughing so hard he was crying - Jaejoong was really starting to appreciate Yoochun, around then. All the corruption from America helped him understand Jaejoong perfectly, and he laughed at all his jokes.
After announcing it, he ran around heckling the other members, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively after every sentence. Changmin swatted at him a few times, and Junsu said he’d pray for him, if he’d like.
“Let’s go play in the waves,” Changmin suggested - in that way he was doe-eyed and only seventeen. Jaejoong arched his back and let out a long, disturbed moan.
“Oh, I’ll play in your waves.”
Yunho was trying to be leaderly, so he said, “Hyung, quit being disgusting,” but he had to stop himself from laughing when Changmin blushed and starting sputtering.
A lot of things happened that day. The best thing was when Junsu dropped his ice cream and the birds went at it. They kaw’d at him when he tried to get close, and Junsu didn’t know how to scare off birds as much as he knew how to wail and beg for more ice cream.
“You vulture,” Jaejoong had complained, but he handed him his cone anyways. Junsu gave him a big wet kiss on the cheek and lapped up Jaejoong’s half-eaten vanilla cone.
“Ewe, vanilla,” Junsu pulled a face but ate it anyways. “This is the most boring flavor ever.”
Jaejoong wanted to say something like beggars can’t be choosers, but instead he said, “It goes with everything.”
‘They’ - the corporations, the media, the rumor-mill - played dirty, because they got their parents involved. Sticking to your word was a big thing to Yunho - Changmin, too - and even if it really wasn’t your word to begin with, you have to defend your family’s honour. Sit down, bite your tongue, speak when spoken to. Straighten your tie, you look like a mongrel.
It was never that bad, but Jaejoong always thought that’s what it would sound like. Cut your hair, you look like a girl. Is that perfume? You want to be a singer? No son of mine is gay!
There was a strange sense of being abandoned when the press released those statements - Changmin and Yunho’s father calling him and Junsu and Yoochun out as selfish money-hungry traitors. He had dinner with them only a month ago, but now he felt like he was standing on the other side of wall. (Other side of the country.)
Yoochun told him to take it with a grain of salt - it was just the media monster feeding and fueling itself, spewing out blatant lies to sell boost sales - but after a while, Changmin stopped calling. Yunho would still take his calls, but he something would always come up. “Huh? Oh, that’s great Jaejoong- I have to go. Yeah- some stuff.”
He’d suppose it was more of a social-pressure than anything - in Korea, everything was one side or another. If anyone caught them calling each other, it could cause them grief at SM. Jaejoong didn’t want to cause them trouble anymore than he wanted trouble - but the lies kept coming, magazines kept publishing, fans became torn.
Yoochun told them all to “Always Keep the Faith” - all capitals except the ‘the,’ he said. The special secret everyone knew. Then Yoochun and him get a little drunk and emotional and paste it on their chests - right over their hearts. Junsu shook his head at them, but he appreciated the thought.
“I have two tattoos for TVXQ on me,” Jaejoong said. “It’s in my skin, it’s never leaving me now.”
“It’s seeping into your brain, I think,” Junsu said. “Branding yourself.”
“He’s a cow,” Yoochun said. “He can’t help it.”
On his back it had been a glaring reminder to everyone behind him - TVXQ was his soul; it’s what made up his insides. But he didn’t want it to just be behind him. He wanted to see it when he looked in the mirror. He wanted it on his heart, but open heart-tattoo hadn’t been done before (at least, not that he knew of,) and his doctor advised against it. Settling for second best, then.
Months passed and there wasn’t any word. Jaejoong was starting to feel sick, like he was missing something important - a big banner across the sky. Yunho and Changmin were in Japan when they were in Korea, and Korea when they were in Japan. They were always conveniently overbooked and unable to meet, all of them. He was starting to miss them like a fish missed water.
Changmin had called about three weeks ago; a little bit drunk, Jaejoong thought. Changmin always drank alone, because he got clingy and emotional and cried a lot. It wasn’t sexy like Yoochun could be - it wasn’t loose or open or social like Jaejoong. Even when Jaejoong spewed his intoxicated feelings all over the place, it was still more pathetic and endearing than messy.
Changmin was messy when he felt things. He’d trash the bathroom when he was angry - unroll the toilet paper roll and get water all over the counter. Then he’d be okay, but he wouldn’t clean it up, because he didn’t know how. Jaejoong would have to harrumph and lug himself in after him, rerolling the tissue and wiping up the water. (For the record, toilet paper doesn’t roll-back-up. It’s always loose after, and you can tell it’s been disturbed. The sides aren’t uniform and the roll is fluffy.)
Jaejoong had been sleeping, but he was craving some cynicism, so he talked to Changmin for a few hours. He wasn’t sure how it turned into a shouting match.
“You’re abandoning us,” Changmin yelled. “You’re being selfish. You’re ruining everything!”
Jaejoong yelled something rude and petty that he didn’t even remember feeling and hung up. He felt sick, but he’d sleep it off.
In the morning he felt worse - like he wasn’t sure things were all right anymore. He didn’t want to tell Yoochun about it; he said things he didn’t mean, but Changmin did too, and when they met up next time, they were going to laugh about how stupid they had been. They’d hug each other. He could see it in his mind - he would crush his dongsaeng to his chest and kiss him on the nose and Changmin would make a face at him and say something like “you’re terrible, hyung. You’re so terrible.”
It was going to be okay, because they were still Tohoshinki under Avex in Japan, and they had promotions to do. They needed to promote Break out!, after all.
They hadn't seen each other in months, and Jaejoong was just frantic to see them and touch them and hold them again. The last time they’d all been together was for a short segment to promote Break out!, and Jaejoong felt like Changmin was pushing as far away from him as he could, nearly melting into Yunho’s side. But they all talked after, laughing and joking around, though it had taken a few seconds to break into. Everyone was doing something - Yunho was finishing up his drama, Junsu was offered another musical spot. Changmin, Yoochun and he were all offered dramas of their own. They all accepted. Congratulations went around.
But it had been months with sparsely any contact and a lot of rumors running around the mill - most, even Jaejoong couldn’t tell if they were true or not. It felt like years since he was on stage with them, singing their hearts out, talking and laughing. They weren’t on stage today - they were recording the final episode of Big East radio.
“For now,” he said gently. Yunho looked at him from across the table and nodded stiffly.
“For now,” he agreed.
As soon recording was over and he finished talking to the staff, he rushed to meet the others. He spotted Changmin across the room, shuffling some things around in his bag. He stood for a while, awkwardly, waiting for the younger man to notice him. Changmin slung his bag over his shoulder and turned, meeting Jaejoong’s eyes. As soon as Changmin looked at him, he was rushing forward, arms out, ready to crush the shit out of his baby. But Changmin looked away - away from Jaejoong and the armful of ‘I miss you’s he was eagerly offering - and walked. And Jaejoong stood there like a fool, arms open and taking in the air that used to be Changmin, not really understanding why he wasn’t warm or reassured.
He dropped his arms, agonized over every second he could see Changmin’s back leaving him, and gnawed on his lower lip.
He sobbed like a baby in the car, and even Yoochun can do nothing to comfort him. He wanted longer arms around his shoulders, and the air wasn't tense enough with Yoochuns smooth ‘it's okay’s. He wanted Changmin snuggling up against him, stuttering out awkwardly comforting facts about valence electrons and male seahorses giving birth. He didn’t want an explanation - he wanted useless, random information with no relevance. He wanted Changmin. He wanted Yunho.
Changmin grumbled an empty (but graphic) death threat and pushed Jaejoong away, tugging the covers and holding them tightly in his arms. Jaejoong whined - because Jaejoong always whined - and snuggled into the younger boys back, basking in the warmth. “I’m freezing,” he mumbled against Changmin’s neck. “I think I have bad circulation.”
“Not a doctor,” Changmin groaned out his reminder. Jaejoong thought he was still rather witty for a half-asleep sixteen year old. He didn’t think he was ever that witty at sixteen.
“But you are warm,” Jaejoong continued, and then he curled his arms around him, not really minding that his butt and legs were cooling now that Changmin had stolen most of his blankets back.
He was getting to be notorious amongst them for crawling into bed at three am, stealing all the covers and sprawling out like a crucifix over the mattress. Junsu was the one with the most problems with it - he liked his space, and sometimes Jaejoong made faces in his sleep and they creeped Junsu out.
“You’re like a werewolf,” Junsu said seriously one day. Jaejoong stared for a long time at him, because nowhere in his mind did face-making equate to lycanthropy. But Junsu seemed pretty convinced so he let him think that.
Yunho said he didn’t mind so much because Jaejoong was warmish - but that just meant that Yunho was colder and the entire purpose of sneaking into bed with someone else was to suck up their body heat, so he only really ventured into bed with Yunho after everyone else kicked him out (or locked their doors.) “See,” he said. “Not a werewolf. Werewolves don’t suck.”
Junsu scrutinized him. “How would you know so much about werewolves unless you were a werewolf?”
Yoochun snorted from the hallway and Jaejoong could hear a faint ‘touché’ - and then Yunho turned around the way he did when he solved arguments and pointed at them like red-handed children.
“First of all,” he said. “Jaejoong is almost entirely hairless, even in sleep. If anyone is a werewolf in this household, it’s Changmin”- there was an indignant ‘hey!’ from the kitchen, and Jaejoong feels a bit offended because he’s tried to grow body hair, but Yunho’s on a roll. -“Secondly, in order to complete a drastic transformation such as turning into a beastly man-eater, Jaejoong would need to have a huge daily intake of calories, which he doesn’t.”
“Changmin does,” Yoochun added helpfully from the hall.
“Again with the ‘Hey!’” Changmin protested from the kitchen.
“Third,” Yunho continued to lecture as if Yoochun and Changmin’s bickering didn’t exist. “If you’re goal is to suck warmth from other people, then you’re a leech. Congratulations and good night.”
Jaejoong wasn’t really anymore pleased with that option; he said, “A leech? Why can’t I be something cooler than that - like a vampire or something?”
“Oh hush. If you wanted ‘cool,’ you should have stuck with werewolf,” Yunho scolded. Jaejoong hung his head in shame, realizing that was very true.
“Why are you here,” Changmin grumbled sleepily - his voice rising out of nowhere - and Jaejoong was surprised he was still awake.
Jaejoong nuzzled him. “Sleep. Warmth sucking. Remember?”
There was a silence in which Jaejoong figured Changmin fell asleep. He settled on making himself more comfortable, pressing a little closer to the smaller teen and closing his eyes. Time was slowing when Changmin broke the silence again.
“I mean the other reason,” he said. His voice was thick and Jaejoong thought he might be getting sick. He should pick up some vitamin C tomorrow.
He pouted, letting out an air that completely deflated his sense of mystery. “You think we’ll be big?” he asked.
Changmin shifted and sniffed sleepily, “’Course. Everyone grows, Jaejoong.”
Jaejoong scoffed at both the sarcasm and the absence of honorifics - Changmin had started to feel like he was a little bit smarter than Jaejoong, so he dropped them whenever he could. “I meant like Dong Bang Shin Ki,” he explained, but it was needless, because Changmin rolled over and pressed his face into Jaejoong’s neck and said “I did, too.”
Maybe you are smarter than me, Jaejoong thought, but he said; “How can you be sure? What if something happens?”
“A la H.O.T.” Changmin said it like he knew exactly what Jaejoong was thinking. His breath was warm against his collar. Jaejoong frowned and clutched him tighter. They were quiet for a while - Jaejoong was hoping to just fall asleep and had probably already dozed off. Younger people were like that- sleeping easier. Changmin was so emotionless and cool. He was so analytical, like he could look you over and tell you what you wanted for dinner. He knew things like that.
Jaejoong gave up hope on an answer and nodded off, and when he woke up, it was little passed six in the morning and Changmin was staring at the ceiling. He watched him, curling the covers under his chin.
“We won’t,” Changmin said quietly. Jaejoong knew he meant break up.
“Why? I mean how could you know? What if everyone hates me”- the list was rambly and ongoing. Changmin sighed like he was a burdened old man and patted Jaejoong’s head.
“You worry too much. We won’t break up because we’re too good for that. And I wouldn’t let it happen.”
“Even if everyone hated me?” Jaejoong fretted.
“Even if everyone hated you,” Changmin assured.
Jaejoong frowned. “Even if you hated me?”
Changmin stilled, eyes trained on the ceiling for a while, before they fell to the older boy. Changmin rolled his eyes and hit him. “You’re dumb,” he said, but Jaejoong knew what he really meant. All the physical cues are there. I wouldn’t let it happen, he thought to himself in Changmin’s voice. I couldn’t hate you for too long.
“Because I’m cute,” Jaejoong said, but he realized directly afterwards that it made no sense in context to what Changmin had said verbally. Changmin looked at him like he had grown another head - and he’d suppose that with a marginal amount less sense, Jaejoong might actually consider that he had.
“You’re lucky you’re good looking,” Changmin said as he sat up. “Otherwise you’d have nothing going for you.”
-
"You okay, Jae?" Yoochun asks. Jaejoong wonders when they stopped calling him hyung - he sends Yoochun a watery smile, but nods.
And suddenly Jaejoong is soaked head to toe. He sputters, gasp, glares through the water, and when he's calm enough to notice, he hears Junsu’s laughter from behind him. He's up before he can remember moving, limbs flailing through the hot sand.
"Oh my goodness, you're so wet!" Junsu teases greasily, confident with his three centimeter-lead. But Jaejoong isn’t a stick with skin anymore, and Junsu hasn’t been doing much but eating and playing video games lately. It doesn’t help that he trips over his feet and ‘oohps’ and that Jaejoong is ruthless when scorned.
Jaejoong tackles him to the ground. He hasn’t laughed so hard in what seems like years, and damn, it feels good.
x
in other news; i finished reading the year of the flood today and decided i've detoxed from fanfic enough to ease back into it; so if you've posted anything in the last few weeks i'm going to be reading it soon enough.
i'm going through my WIP folder on my computer - it's like, 3GB of unfinished stories - and am going to try to get as much done as i can before it's january and i'm in uni.
also, really, really mean it. the next thing i post is going to be happy. promise.