deeper conversation: chapter 5
deeper conversation: chapter 5
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ junsu
chaptered | AU | pg-13
a/n: sorry for the late update, i got caught up in assignments. @_@ un-betaed still, so feel free to tell me if u found any mistakes, aight? 8]
--
Yunho didn’t call me last night and still hadn’t called me today. Why was it that when my hope on him seemed to be soaring, he’d tore its wing away and left me falling on the ground wishing that I didn’t start to hope in the first place? I couldn’t sleep at all last night, waiting for his call like a lovesick teenager. It disgusted me that I was behaving this way, it seemed unbefitting for a grown man like me to be so affected by a young student-teacher who was as handsome as the devil and can kiss so well.
Yoochun and Junsu stopped by yesterday evening to drop Jinjoo off for the weekend, and between entertaining my only son and worrying about Yunho’s phone call, I was reduced into a mess of a person. I burned the cookies I was baking for Jinjoo this morning, which had made my house smelt like of smoke and chocolate, a weird fragrant that made my eyes water just by smelling them. My motivation to cook went down the rubbish chute alongside the burned cookies, so we ordered Japanese takeaways for lunch - chicken teppanyaki for Jinjoo, and curry rice for me. Usually it won’t take long for me to finish my meal, but today was different. I didn’t even realize I was out of it because my mind was flying elsewhere, thinking of my silent mobile phone until Jinjoo had scrunched his face in annoyance, telling me off like he was the father in this relationship,
“Finish up your lunch, Dad, or I’ll make you. You know how hard the farmers had to work to cultivate the rice?”
I was so very proud of my son, and the curry rice bowl was squeaky clean when I was through with them.
It rained by afternoon, so we cuddled in front of the television watching ‘Transformers’ for the umpteenth times, Jinjoo rewinding and fast-forwarding to his favorite scenes and going ‘woah’ every time the robots change forms. My mind was really not with me today. I kept going over what happened the other night, smiling like a fool every time I recalled the kisses we had shared and frowning when I remembered Yunho had not call me since we parted yesterday morning. I should have asked him his number instead of giving him mine, God forbid that guy was clumsy in everything he does. Maybe he lost my number in the laundry? Or maybe he misplaced the piece of paper and couldn’t find it? Or-
Jinjoo poked my side, demanding attention.
“Dad…”
“Yes?”
“What’s up? Why are you making faces like that?”
“Oh?”
“You’re making these weird faces, scrunching your eyebrows like this, and wiggling your nose like this.”, Jinjoo imitated me, his face contorted in various expressions to show me what I had looked like before. I chuckled, plain amused by his effort.
“Un, nothing, baby. I was just thinking.”
I ruffled his hair, feeling my cheeks blushing hot when I realized that my son had caught me daydreaming about a certain Jung Yunho. Jinjoo didn’t buy it of course, so he grinned widely, climbing atop of my lap and taking my face in between his chubby palms,
“You’re lying. You were never ‘just thinking’.”, his eyes narrowed into tiny, scrutinizing slits, “Are you seeing someone, Dad?”
When did my son grow up? Here in my lap was a ten-year old boy with the curiosity and perceptiveness of a grown-up. I blinked stupidly at him for a few seconds, trying to decipher where the hell did he learns that last question from.
I grabbed his two hands off my face before tackling him down, fingers mercilessly tweaking and poking his sides till he guffawed out loud, ticklish all over.
“Since when you become such a busybody, Jinjoo? Huh? Huh?”
Jinjoo laughed and laughed, kicking and pushing me away but of course, I was able to keep my attack on full force. He was breathless when he asked me to stop, and turned our bodies around so he could lie on top of me, his arms linked around my torso and head resting on my hard-heaving chest, giggling still. I wasn’t aware that I was laughing too, and because of that was catching much-needed oxygen into my lungs. I was getting too old to play with him like this, I thought sadly.
“You should go out with people, Dad. I don’t want you to feel lonely when I’m not here.”
Jinjoo looked up at me, his smile so sweet and his eyes wistful, and I knew then that my son had grown up. There was still my baby somewhere inside of him, but Jinjoo had developed a maturity that surpasses his age, and my tears broke from my eyes. Jinjoo was worried for me, his father who had never even bothered to worry about himself. I hugged him close and blinked the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of my son.
I wondered if this was what kept me from dating again - because I was extremely terrified of being let down and getting disappointed. Yoochun once told me when we were still married that I have the issue of trusting and loving people. Back then, I had hollered at him, saying that he’s saying shit because he couldn’t love me more than he should. He had asked me back, voice wavering as tears fell from his eyes, “How can I love you, Jaejoong, if you wouldn’t let me have your heart?”
Yoochun also said that the only person I let close and love more than I have ever let and love anyone is Jinjoo. But then it made sense for me to love Jinjoo unconditionally like this, because Jinjoo is my son who would never disappoint me and let me down. Well at least, not in the way the men in my life often did.
“Do you want me to stay longer with you, Dad? I can ask Appa and Papa.”
Jinjoo spoke softly against my chest, tightening his hold around my waist. I bet he could hear clearly the thumping of my heart, and even though I bit my lips so he wouldn’t hear me crying, I was sure he could feel me shivered from the suppressed sobs. I took a deep breath, gathering composure before I could speak without breaking down.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Really. That’s so nice of you to think of your old Dad like this.” I teased him, wiping the tears that came out with the back of my hands. Jinjoo looked up, smiling sadly at me.
“You’re not old, Daddy. You will never be old.”, ah, there’s my baby Jinjoo again. I had felt new bouts of tears coming when he called me ‘Daddy’ in his small voice, face so innocent and young and full of dreams. I pulled both of our bodies into sitting positions, with Jinjoo on my lap, his legs wrapped around my waist. God, I love this boy so much. Sometimes I wished he would never grow up, because then I wouldn’t be able to hold him like this.
“I will get old, Jinjoo, and you will too. You’ll grow up to be such a handsome young man, like your Dad.”, I smiled and kissed his forehead, touched by his love and concern for me. I realized that I shouldn’t let Yunho affected me like this, at least not when I’m with my son. Our time together is short enough as it is. It needs not be further distracted by a man who couldn’t even make one simple phone call to me.
*
It was 2 a.m. when my mobile phone blared its ringtone aloud, startling me out of sleep and off the bed. I groped around in the dark for the phone, and with my eyemask still on, I answered groggily, cursing inwardly at whomever had the courtesy of making calls out of normal time range.
“Yeoboseyo?”
“Yeoboseyo..Who’s this?”
“Oh my God, are you sleeping? I’m sorry-“, damn it, half the world are sleeping at this time you idiot. I snapped, patience running thin,
“Yes, I’m sleeping. Normal people sleep at this time of the night. So who’s this?”
“I’m sorry! Ah, umm, it’s Yunho. I’m really-“
I sat up in bed so suddenly that I felt my blood rushed out of my brain. Hurriedly, I took off my eyemask and switched on the side lamp, blinking my eyes at the assault of light.
“Yunho! Do you know what time is it now?”, I didn’t mean to hiss, but I was definitely hissing when I said that. I imagined Yunho getting all jumpy and nervous at my tone of voice, but really, I was too cranky and tired from a night of studying with Jinjoo to even care at the moment.
“I know, it’s already 2. I’m sorry, but I’m just...I’ll hang up. I’m sorry.”, he was about to hang up when I finally got some sense into me and stopped him,
“Wait! You’ve already woke me up anyways, so why not just talk…”
He ummed and ahhed for a while, searching for words and I’m guessing ‘sorry’ will definitely be among them. He didn’t disappoint me this time, because that’s the first thing that came out from his mouth next.
“Sorry, Jaejoong...about the call.”
I let myself fall back on the mattress, sighing loudly as I did so. Yunho probably knew what I felt about what happened then, and I didn’t really bother to hide it. It’s better he knew this side of me now, before it becomes an issue between us.
“Things happen. I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to call me like that, it’s not in my place to give you such an obligation over an outing that just went so well.” Silence charmed us for a good few minutes, and I was sure he was reminiscing the dinner, the drinks, the dance, and the kisses we’ve shared on that fateful night.
“No.”, Yunho said suddenly, and I gasped back, “No?”
“No, I wanted to call you, Jaejoong. I really did. But I fell asleep while looking after my brother, he had a fever since yesterday and it just got better today. And I had meant to call you earlier today before I went to work, but I remembered you said that your son was going to spend the weekend with you and I didn’t want to interrupt. I figured I should just call you tomorrow, but I…I couldn’t wait. I don’t want you to think that I forgot what we…what we did. I just…I want to talk to you again, Jaejoong.”
Maybe I was not too old for this because I was positively blushing by the end of Yunho’s explanation. So he had meant to call me but got distracted from taking care of his younger brother, and he had thought that calling me today would take away from my time with Jinjoo. I felt something warm blooming in my chest, and my stomach tightened for all the right reasons.
“You could have sent me a text, you know.”, I bargained, acting like a thirteen-year old girl. Urgh, Kim Jaejoong, for real?
Yunho chuckled, and I heard him exhaled loudly over the phone, “My mobile ran out of credits, and I didn’t even realize this until this evening. I’m actually calling you from the public phone booth, Jaejoong. I’m sorry, I should have done that. I should have text you, at least. I’m sorry I made you worried.”
I smiled, touched by the effort he had put into giving me a call. I was sure it was cold outside, and for him to be trudging out in the freezing night just to make a call for me, one had to give him credit for that.
And that reminded me, “Yunho, what are you doing going out in the cold just to make a call to me? What if you get sick too? Aish…Go back home, I’ll call you back.”
He giggled, and somehow I could imagine him red-nosed and shivering, smiling his shy, handsome smile, “It’s okay, Jaejoong, I don’t want to keep you up so late. I’d have to sleep too, I still got work tomorrow. Can I call you tomorrow night, after I finish my shift?”
I nodded eagerly, then realized he couldn’t see me over the phone, “Yes, of course, please do.”
“We’ll talk some more tomorrow night, yeah? Good night, Jaejoong. Hope you have a great Sunday with your son.”
“Good night to you too. Take care.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t worry.”
“It’s so nice to talk to you again, Jaejoong. I-“
And the phone clicked, beeping sounds filtering over the phone signaling that the call had been disconnected before we said our goodbyes properly. Maybe Yunho ran out of coins, and I berated myself because once again, I forgot to ask him his phone number.
*
Sunday went extremely well, and unlike the Saturday that was spent inside while it rained cats and dogs. It was a fairly good day to be outside today, not too hot that it would burn our skin red like lobsters, yet not too wet that it would soil our shoes. Jinjoo was up early today, bouncing up on my bed and tickling me out of sleep. I made him his favorite peanut butter and jellies toast and by ten, we were out of my apartment and driving towards city center, shopping as our main mission.
We went to Jinjoo’s favorite shops first, and he conned me into buying him DVDs and a new pair of roller-blades with an adorable pout and those big eyes of his. Then we went to my kind of shops, and I let Jinjoo picked my shirts and jackets for me because he likes dressing me up like the mannequins he had seen at the shop fronts. We argued a little when he insisted that I bought a fedora, something that I never like wearing.
“Appa wears it all the time and it looks good! Trust me!”
“That’s your Appa’s style, not mine. I don’t wear fedora, Jinjoo.”
“You should try, it’d complement your face!”
My eyebrows lifted at this, apparently living with three homosexual fathers had somehow made Jinjoo sounded like a gay boy himself. I laughed, ruffling his hair without his consent.
“You sounded gay, you know.”
He made a ‘bleh’ face, and exclaimed loudly, “I like girls!”, and I just had to laugh again.
We had our lunch at McDonald’s, and I had to remind Jinjoo not to overeat because he had a weak stomach and I didn’t want to have to answer to a freaking out Yoochun. Yoochun was always so particular about what Jinjoo eats, and since he and Junsu are organic foods worshippers, he always reminds me not to take Jinjoo to fast food joints, though I don’t bother to follow any of his over-protective notes. Jinjoo is my son too and he needs real food sometimes, and like hell if I let Yoochun dictates how I should feed my son when he’s with me. But just to make sure we are both safe from Yoochun’s wrath, I made Jinjoo promised not to tell his Appa about our little McDonalds’ excursion.
We went to a park after that, because Jinjoo want to try out his roller-blades. I sat and let him enjoyed his new toy, taking care not to let him out of my sight just in case he fell down or about to get himself into a great danger. Before long, Jinjoo managed to make friend with a few other boys his age, and they were roller-blading happily across the cemented part of the park. It felt good just to spend time like this, watching Jinjoo play and enjoy his childhood. At least it made me feel like I didn’t miss out too much on his growing up process.
We were home by 6 that evening, and while Jinjoo showered, I took out the ingredients for dinner and started to cook. We ate dinner in front of the television and just spent time talking about random things - gossiping about his school friends, and laughing till our stomach hurt when Jinjoo told me Junsu was deathly afraid of cockroaches that he would cry if he sees one, even the plastic cockroach that Jinjoo just happen to has in his toy collection.
We gathered his stuffs and drove to Yoochun’s house at 10, and said our goodbyes at the front porch. I kissed his cheeks, told him to take care and study hard, and he replied cheekily back saying I should do the same. When he went in and disappeared from my sight, I had felt so lonely that it ached deep into my soul. I was living in my one-man world for so long, and it scares me how I never got used to this loneliness that surrounds me. The thirty minutes drive back to my apartment seemed like a time for self-reflection, and I was shaking because it suddenly occurred to me that what Yoochun had been saying about me when we were still married was true, and that Jinjoo’s concern over me was not a baseless endeavor.
It was not a surprise when Yunho called me at midnight, I was weeping rather unmanly to him; my cold, aloof façade melting away with the fear of living life alone till I die.
“I never want to be alone again, Yunho.” I had sobbed through the phone. Yunho let me cried my heart out, listening to my incoherent ramble. His voice was firm and resolute when he said back,
“I won’t let you, Jaejoong-ah, I won’t.”
and I almost gave him my whole heart for that.
--[TBC]
yunho ♥ jaejoong | yoochun ♥ junsu
chaptered | AU | pg-13
a/n: sorry for the late update, i got caught up in assignments. @_@ un-betaed still, so feel free to tell me if u found any mistakes, aight? 8]
--
Yunho didn’t call me last night and still hadn’t called me today. Why was it that when my hope on him seemed to be soaring, he’d tore its wing away and left me falling on the ground wishing that I didn’t start to hope in the first place? I couldn’t sleep at all last night, waiting for his call like a lovesick teenager. It disgusted me that I was behaving this way, it seemed unbefitting for a grown man like me to be so affected by a young student-teacher who was as handsome as the devil and can kiss so well.
Yoochun and Junsu stopped by yesterday evening to drop Jinjoo off for the weekend, and between entertaining my only son and worrying about Yunho’s phone call, I was reduced into a mess of a person. I burned the cookies I was baking for Jinjoo this morning, which had made my house smelt like of smoke and chocolate, a weird fragrant that made my eyes water just by smelling them. My motivation to cook went down the rubbish chute alongside the burned cookies, so we ordered Japanese takeaways for lunch - chicken teppanyaki for Jinjoo, and curry rice for me. Usually it won’t take long for me to finish my meal, but today was different. I didn’t even realize I was out of it because my mind was flying elsewhere, thinking of my silent mobile phone until Jinjoo had scrunched his face in annoyance, telling me off like he was the father in this relationship,
“Finish up your lunch, Dad, or I’ll make you. You know how hard the farmers had to work to cultivate the rice?”
I was so very proud of my son, and the curry rice bowl was squeaky clean when I was through with them.
It rained by afternoon, so we cuddled in front of the television watching ‘Transformers’ for the umpteenth times, Jinjoo rewinding and fast-forwarding to his favorite scenes and going ‘woah’ every time the robots change forms. My mind was really not with me today. I kept going over what happened the other night, smiling like a fool every time I recalled the kisses we had shared and frowning when I remembered Yunho had not call me since we parted yesterday morning. I should have asked him his number instead of giving him mine, God forbid that guy was clumsy in everything he does. Maybe he lost my number in the laundry? Or maybe he misplaced the piece of paper and couldn’t find it? Or-
Jinjoo poked my side, demanding attention.
“Dad…”
“Yes?”
“What’s up? Why are you making faces like that?”
“Oh?”
“You’re making these weird faces, scrunching your eyebrows like this, and wiggling your nose like this.”, Jinjoo imitated me, his face contorted in various expressions to show me what I had looked like before. I chuckled, plain amused by his effort.
“Un, nothing, baby. I was just thinking.”
I ruffled his hair, feeling my cheeks blushing hot when I realized that my son had caught me daydreaming about a certain Jung Yunho. Jinjoo didn’t buy it of course, so he grinned widely, climbing atop of my lap and taking my face in between his chubby palms,
“You’re lying. You were never ‘just thinking’.”, his eyes narrowed into tiny, scrutinizing slits, “Are you seeing someone, Dad?”
When did my son grow up? Here in my lap was a ten-year old boy with the curiosity and perceptiveness of a grown-up. I blinked stupidly at him for a few seconds, trying to decipher where the hell did he learns that last question from.
I grabbed his two hands off my face before tackling him down, fingers mercilessly tweaking and poking his sides till he guffawed out loud, ticklish all over.
“Since when you become such a busybody, Jinjoo? Huh? Huh?”
Jinjoo laughed and laughed, kicking and pushing me away but of course, I was able to keep my attack on full force. He was breathless when he asked me to stop, and turned our bodies around so he could lie on top of me, his arms linked around my torso and head resting on my hard-heaving chest, giggling still. I wasn’t aware that I was laughing too, and because of that was catching much-needed oxygen into my lungs. I was getting too old to play with him like this, I thought sadly.
“You should go out with people, Dad. I don’t want you to feel lonely when I’m not here.”
Jinjoo looked up at me, his smile so sweet and his eyes wistful, and I knew then that my son had grown up. There was still my baby somewhere inside of him, but Jinjoo had developed a maturity that surpasses his age, and my tears broke from my eyes. Jinjoo was worried for me, his father who had never even bothered to worry about himself. I hugged him close and blinked the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of my son.
I wondered if this was what kept me from dating again - because I was extremely terrified of being let down and getting disappointed. Yoochun once told me when we were still married that I have the issue of trusting and loving people. Back then, I had hollered at him, saying that he’s saying shit because he couldn’t love me more than he should. He had asked me back, voice wavering as tears fell from his eyes, “How can I love you, Jaejoong, if you wouldn’t let me have your heart?”
Yoochun also said that the only person I let close and love more than I have ever let and love anyone is Jinjoo. But then it made sense for me to love Jinjoo unconditionally like this, because Jinjoo is my son who would never disappoint me and let me down. Well at least, not in the way the men in my life often did.
“Do you want me to stay longer with you, Dad? I can ask Appa and Papa.”
Jinjoo spoke softly against my chest, tightening his hold around my waist. I bet he could hear clearly the thumping of my heart, and even though I bit my lips so he wouldn’t hear me crying, I was sure he could feel me shivered from the suppressed sobs. I took a deep breath, gathering composure before I could speak without breaking down.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Really. That’s so nice of you to think of your old Dad like this.” I teased him, wiping the tears that came out with the back of my hands. Jinjoo looked up, smiling sadly at me.
“You’re not old, Daddy. You will never be old.”, ah, there’s my baby Jinjoo again. I had felt new bouts of tears coming when he called me ‘Daddy’ in his small voice, face so innocent and young and full of dreams. I pulled both of our bodies into sitting positions, with Jinjoo on my lap, his legs wrapped around my waist. God, I love this boy so much. Sometimes I wished he would never grow up, because then I wouldn’t be able to hold him like this.
“I will get old, Jinjoo, and you will too. You’ll grow up to be such a handsome young man, like your Dad.”, I smiled and kissed his forehead, touched by his love and concern for me. I realized that I shouldn’t let Yunho affected me like this, at least not when I’m with my son. Our time together is short enough as it is. It needs not be further distracted by a man who couldn’t even make one simple phone call to me.
*
It was 2 a.m. when my mobile phone blared its ringtone aloud, startling me out of sleep and off the bed. I groped around in the dark for the phone, and with my eyemask still on, I answered groggily, cursing inwardly at whomever had the courtesy of making calls out of normal time range.
“Yeoboseyo?”
“Yeoboseyo..Who’s this?”
“Oh my God, are you sleeping? I’m sorry-“, damn it, half the world are sleeping at this time you idiot. I snapped, patience running thin,
“Yes, I’m sleeping. Normal people sleep at this time of the night. So who’s this?”
“I’m sorry! Ah, umm, it’s Yunho. I’m really-“
I sat up in bed so suddenly that I felt my blood rushed out of my brain. Hurriedly, I took off my eyemask and switched on the side lamp, blinking my eyes at the assault of light.
“Yunho! Do you know what time is it now?”, I didn’t mean to hiss, but I was definitely hissing when I said that. I imagined Yunho getting all jumpy and nervous at my tone of voice, but really, I was too cranky and tired from a night of studying with Jinjoo to even care at the moment.
“I know, it’s already 2. I’m sorry, but I’m just...I’ll hang up. I’m sorry.”, he was about to hang up when I finally got some sense into me and stopped him,
“Wait! You’ve already woke me up anyways, so why not just talk…”
He ummed and ahhed for a while, searching for words and I’m guessing ‘sorry’ will definitely be among them. He didn’t disappoint me this time, because that’s the first thing that came out from his mouth next.
“Sorry, Jaejoong...about the call.”
I let myself fall back on the mattress, sighing loudly as I did so. Yunho probably knew what I felt about what happened then, and I didn’t really bother to hide it. It’s better he knew this side of me now, before it becomes an issue between us.
“Things happen. I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to call me like that, it’s not in my place to give you such an obligation over an outing that just went so well.” Silence charmed us for a good few minutes, and I was sure he was reminiscing the dinner, the drinks, the dance, and the kisses we’ve shared on that fateful night.
“No.”, Yunho said suddenly, and I gasped back, “No?”
“No, I wanted to call you, Jaejoong. I really did. But I fell asleep while looking after my brother, he had a fever since yesterday and it just got better today. And I had meant to call you earlier today before I went to work, but I remembered you said that your son was going to spend the weekend with you and I didn’t want to interrupt. I figured I should just call you tomorrow, but I…I couldn’t wait. I don’t want you to think that I forgot what we…what we did. I just…I want to talk to you again, Jaejoong.”
Maybe I was not too old for this because I was positively blushing by the end of Yunho’s explanation. So he had meant to call me but got distracted from taking care of his younger brother, and he had thought that calling me today would take away from my time with Jinjoo. I felt something warm blooming in my chest, and my stomach tightened for all the right reasons.
“You could have sent me a text, you know.”, I bargained, acting like a thirteen-year old girl. Urgh, Kim Jaejoong, for real?
Yunho chuckled, and I heard him exhaled loudly over the phone, “My mobile ran out of credits, and I didn’t even realize this until this evening. I’m actually calling you from the public phone booth, Jaejoong. I’m sorry, I should have done that. I should have text you, at least. I’m sorry I made you worried.”
I smiled, touched by the effort he had put into giving me a call. I was sure it was cold outside, and for him to be trudging out in the freezing night just to make a call for me, one had to give him credit for that.
And that reminded me, “Yunho, what are you doing going out in the cold just to make a call to me? What if you get sick too? Aish…Go back home, I’ll call you back.”
He giggled, and somehow I could imagine him red-nosed and shivering, smiling his shy, handsome smile, “It’s okay, Jaejoong, I don’t want to keep you up so late. I’d have to sleep too, I still got work tomorrow. Can I call you tomorrow night, after I finish my shift?”
I nodded eagerly, then realized he couldn’t see me over the phone, “Yes, of course, please do.”
“We’ll talk some more tomorrow night, yeah? Good night, Jaejoong. Hope you have a great Sunday with your son.”
“Good night to you too. Take care.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t worry.”
“It’s so nice to talk to you again, Jaejoong. I-“
And the phone clicked, beeping sounds filtering over the phone signaling that the call had been disconnected before we said our goodbyes properly. Maybe Yunho ran out of coins, and I berated myself because once again, I forgot to ask him his phone number.
*
Sunday went extremely well, and unlike the Saturday that was spent inside while it rained cats and dogs. It was a fairly good day to be outside today, not too hot that it would burn our skin red like lobsters, yet not too wet that it would soil our shoes. Jinjoo was up early today, bouncing up on my bed and tickling me out of sleep. I made him his favorite peanut butter and jellies toast and by ten, we were out of my apartment and driving towards city center, shopping as our main mission.
We went to Jinjoo’s favorite shops first, and he conned me into buying him DVDs and a new pair of roller-blades with an adorable pout and those big eyes of his. Then we went to my kind of shops, and I let Jinjoo picked my shirts and jackets for me because he likes dressing me up like the mannequins he had seen at the shop fronts. We argued a little when he insisted that I bought a fedora, something that I never like wearing.
“Appa wears it all the time and it looks good! Trust me!”
“That’s your Appa’s style, not mine. I don’t wear fedora, Jinjoo.”
“You should try, it’d complement your face!”
My eyebrows lifted at this, apparently living with three homosexual fathers had somehow made Jinjoo sounded like a gay boy himself. I laughed, ruffling his hair without his consent.
“You sounded gay, you know.”
He made a ‘bleh’ face, and exclaimed loudly, “I like girls!”, and I just had to laugh again.
We had our lunch at McDonald’s, and I had to remind Jinjoo not to overeat because he had a weak stomach and I didn’t want to have to answer to a freaking out Yoochun. Yoochun was always so particular about what Jinjoo eats, and since he and Junsu are organic foods worshippers, he always reminds me not to take Jinjoo to fast food joints, though I don’t bother to follow any of his over-protective notes. Jinjoo is my son too and he needs real food sometimes, and like hell if I let Yoochun dictates how I should feed my son when he’s with me. But just to make sure we are both safe from Yoochun’s wrath, I made Jinjoo promised not to tell his Appa about our little McDonalds’ excursion.
We went to a park after that, because Jinjoo want to try out his roller-blades. I sat and let him enjoyed his new toy, taking care not to let him out of my sight just in case he fell down or about to get himself into a great danger. Before long, Jinjoo managed to make friend with a few other boys his age, and they were roller-blading happily across the cemented part of the park. It felt good just to spend time like this, watching Jinjoo play and enjoy his childhood. At least it made me feel like I didn’t miss out too much on his growing up process.
We were home by 6 that evening, and while Jinjoo showered, I took out the ingredients for dinner and started to cook. We ate dinner in front of the television and just spent time talking about random things - gossiping about his school friends, and laughing till our stomach hurt when Jinjoo told me Junsu was deathly afraid of cockroaches that he would cry if he sees one, even the plastic cockroach that Jinjoo just happen to has in his toy collection.
We gathered his stuffs and drove to Yoochun’s house at 10, and said our goodbyes at the front porch. I kissed his cheeks, told him to take care and study hard, and he replied cheekily back saying I should do the same. When he went in and disappeared from my sight, I had felt so lonely that it ached deep into my soul. I was living in my one-man world for so long, and it scares me how I never got used to this loneliness that surrounds me. The thirty minutes drive back to my apartment seemed like a time for self-reflection, and I was shaking because it suddenly occurred to me that what Yoochun had been saying about me when we were still married was true, and that Jinjoo’s concern over me was not a baseless endeavor.
It was not a surprise when Yunho called me at midnight, I was weeping rather unmanly to him; my cold, aloof façade melting away with the fear of living life alone till I die.
“I never want to be alone again, Yunho.” I had sobbed through the phone. Yunho let me cried my heart out, listening to my incoherent ramble. His voice was firm and resolute when he said back,
“I won’t let you, Jaejoong-ah, I won’t.”
and I almost gave him my whole heart for that.
--[TBC]