Haunting (Part 2)
Title: Haunting
Author: VampireMadonna
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG-13
Length: Undetermined
Summary: A tragic end leads to a new beginning...
Yunho kept his back turned, counting as the seconds ticked by, feeling like a heel the longer he stood there, knowing that the kid was probably staring at his back with that same wounded, heart-broken look he’d seen in his eyes.
When he heard stumbling feet followed by the door closing, he sagged against the table, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
He hadn’t meant to be as harsh as he’d been but he’d had so much on his mind all day and had needed some time alone so when he’d had his solitude interrupted, he’d snapped. It wouldn’t have mattered who had come in but, unfortunately, it turned out to be the last person he’d have wanted to hurt.
“I don’t know you, and I don’t want to.”
Lies! He knew exactly who he was. Kim Jaejoong: 16, sophomore, hung with an eclectic bunch far different from his group. He couldn’t and wouldn’t claim to know what Jaejoong’s interests were, his dreams and aspirations, but he’d made it sound like he was an absolute stranger to him and that technically wasn’t true.
He’d been aware of Jaejoong’s attentions for quite a while now, had even noticed him that very morning as he’d passed him in the hallway. Sena, the ex-girlfriend from hell who refused to detach her claws no matter how clear he made it that he wanted nothing to do with her, had been the one to point out Jaejoong’s…interest in him. Her phrasing had been less than complimentary when she’d mentioned it, her opinion of Jaejoong even less so, but he’d learned over the years to ignore her bitchy remarks and get to the heart of the matter: this kid, Jaejoong, was apparently infatuated with him.
After that first time, he’d started noticing him more and more. He hated to use the word “stalking” but that was kind of what he did: hiding around corners, popping up at his games, following at a respectable but still visible distance. He’d considered approaching Jaejoong, although he had no idea what one said to a stalker, but Sena had immediately disapproved of the idea. He didn’t know why he’d listened to her, he usually didn’t, but her vehemence caught him off guard. Telling himself that perhaps, for once, she wasn’t being a self-serving bitch, he heeded her warning and tried to pretend that Kim Jaejoong did not exist.
He’d managed to do so until the day before when he’d become aware of his tail. He’d decided that that was a good opportunity to confront the boy. He’d had no intention of threatening him, nor befriending him, he simply wanted some assurance that he didn’t have a potentially violent obsessive fan on his hands. When the boy had followed him into the shoe store, he’d been handed the perfect opportunity.
“Bumping” into him led to a short awkward conversation but was quickly followed by an actually enjoyable time spent talking about collectible sneakers, which was a passion of his and something he’d never expected to share with Jaejoong. By the end of their shoe-store adventure, he’d felt so relaxed with the boy that it had seemed natural to continue their friendly excursion round the town, going from shop to shop until finally they’d worked up an appetite and decided that food was in order. It was during that time that the atmosphere started changing.
The conversation was light and completely unimportant but as they ate, he became aware of certain things about Kim Jaejoong. Like the way he ate, how he chewed slowly and always covered his mouth if he spoke while chewing. How deep a pink his lips were and how sensuous they looked when they closed around his spoon. How sometimes he would stop to think with the spoon in his mouth so his lips paused in a semi-permanent pucker/pout of sorts. Basically, his thoughts weren’t the kind he ever had around or about other guys, or even girls for that matter, and they freaked him out. To make things worse, he found himself thinking that Jaejoong was frighteningly pretty for a boy, with his big, dark, doe-shaped eyes, accentuated by the long bangs on his forehead. And his lips again, of course.
Jaejoong, if his continuous chatter was any indication, didn’t seem to notice his intense stare or the fact that he wasn’t actively participating in the conversation, for which he was grateful. It would have been extremely awkward if he’d been caught with confused lust in his eyes by the object of that lust. By the end of the meal, he’d decided that it was time to part ways with Kim Jaejoong and go back to being Jung Yunho, the athlete and most wanted guy in their school, but then Jaejoong pointed to the noraebang and suggested that they go for a while. His mind had immediately shouted a resounding no but somehow he’d found himself saying yes. The pure, joyful smile that Jaejoong shot him then had almost blinded him.
He couldn’t sing to save his life, as he’d told Jaejoong from the outset and he’d proven it from the very first song, but unlike his friends, who usually made fun of on his lack of musicality, Jaejoong looked at him with a kind of awed reverence, like he was Pavarotti or something. It had made his neck warm…and his heart pitter-pattered a little too.
When Jaejoong took over, singing his girl group songs full of enthusiasm and energy, shaking his little butt as he did so, Yunho couldn’t help but notice, as his eyes drifted over the boy, that that little butt was quite shapely. And, without his uniform jacket, his waist was perhaps the tiniest he’d ever seen. He’d wondered if his hands would meet if they spanned his waist and his palms tingled to hold him there. His eyes glued onto Jaejoong’s wiggling derriere and for the life of him, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. When he felt himself hardening, an alarm went off in his head. What the hell was he doing? What was happening to him?
And then Jaejoong turned around, his rosy lips pursed in a small pout, eyes wide and questioning as he held the mic out to him. The thought hadn’t even finished passing through his mind before he had him on his lap and was kissing him madly, which was exactly how he’d felt: mad. It was pure insanity. Never in his life would he have imagined that in one afternoon he could go from being merely curious about an absolute stranger to having to fight back the urge to strip him naked and do very bad things to him. To a “him”.
But Jaejoong had responded to his kissing, had kissed him back just as fervently, had touched him with the same frenzy. What could he do? Why should he fight it? Why would he when the body pressing against his was so soft and welcoming?
What happened after that was an ecstasy-filled blur. Clothes came off then Jaejoong’s curious hands had wandered to private places, shortly followed by his mouth. He’d received more oral attention than he could ever count but there was something about the first tentative touch of Jaejoong’s small hands, the first bold stroke of his tongue that had almost set him off. Jaejoong’s experience was clearly limited - Yunho wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he was the first person Jaejoong had ever done anything with - but it had excited and touched him more than the most experienced of hands and having been with Sena, who could still teach him a thing or two, that was saying a lot.
He didn’t really know what came next, he sort of just went with the flow. Sex with a guy couldn’t be much different than sex with a girl right? There was just one entrance instead of two. That was his logic at the time. He’d had the presence of mind to use a condom to pave the way more comfortably for Jaejoong, though it had made it a little uncomfortable for him, and had let his body handle the rest.
It wasn’t his best performance by a long shot. He’d tried to be gentle, knowing that Jaejoong was probably in a lot of pain, and he’d succeeded in that sense at least. But neither one of them had fully enjoyed the experience, he was sure, yet, neither one hated it either. With practice…
With practice? What the hell are you talking about?
He rubbed a weary hand over his face, suddenly feeling tired.
He’d come and he’d made sure that Jaejoong had too. That was the most he could do for him since he knew that Jaejoong’s first time hadn’t been as special as it should have, what with being screwed on the filthy couch of a noraebang and all. He’d lain there a while after, unmoving, trying to sort his thoughts out while he had a mental meltdown. But he hid it all from Jaejoong. He was not going to ruin it for him. They’d cleaned up, gotten dressed and left. It should’ve been awkward, walking together to the bus stop after what they’d just done, but it surprised him that it wasn’t. He was freaking out inside but it wasn’t about the fact that he’d just had sex with a guy. Well… partly, it was but mostly it was who he’d had sex with, where and under what circumstances. He’d never had sex on the first date, never had a one night stand, so it was new territory for him too. He’d always thought that random hookups were despicable and an indicator of whorish behavior but he was surprised to realize that he did not feel that way when he thought about what he’d just done with Jaejoong.
The look on Jaejoong’s face as he waved goodbye from inside the bus stayed with him the rest of the night. So sweet, so innocent, so genuine. Other than his best friend, he often felt that the people around him were only there for his status, for what being associated with him gave them. But for that one afternoon with Jaejoong, he got to experience what it felt like to just be Yunho, not a star and all the expectations that came along with it. He didn’t doubt that his status was part of Jaejoong’s infatuation with him but he hadn’t treated him like a deity and hadn’t made him uncomfortable at any point during their time together, so much so that he’d actually forgotten that Jaejoong was supposed to be his stalker and felt like he was…a friend.
As he’d lain in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he’d relived his experience with Jaejoong. Though he’d had sex many, many, many times, he didn’t think he’d ever made love. He’d thought he had, once upon a time, but reality had slapped him in the face soon after. However, thinking back on what he’d felt while he’d been with Jaejoong, both before, during and after intercourse, he wondered if, perhaps, that’s what it was like for people in love. The breathless anticipation, awkward hesitation, that moment of worry and self-consciousness, then finally gathering courage to get going, culminating in that moment where eyes met, heartbeats synchronized, the rest of the world faded and all that remained were two people locked in a shared experience that only they could understand.
He’d been extraordinarily touched by his experience with Jaejoong, feeling strangely grateful to some extent, and as he’d started to drift off to sleep, a small smile on his lips, he’d wondered if they’d ever share that experience again.
Then morning came and reality slapped him in the face once more.
Sighing, he gathered his things, slung his bag over his shoulder and started out of the greenhouse.
His experience with Kim Jaejoong was best forgotten. Neither one of them had any place in the other’s lives. He wasn’t gay but even if he’d wanted to further explore what had happened between them, there was too much going on in his life at the moment to even think about adding another complication. He was sorry for hurting the kid’s feelings but perhaps hating Yunho would help him move on faster. As for him, he was thankful that he didn’t have training that day. He wanted nothing more than to dive into bed, pull a pillow over his head and block out the world until tomorrow.
As he approached the intersection around the corner from the school, he became aware of a commotion. There was a crowd gathered, sirens blaring. His brows furrowed as he wondered what could have happened to cause such chaos.
He stopped where he was, not wanting to join the crowd. If it was an accident of some kind then the more people that gathered, the more difficult it would be for the medics to attend to the injured. He was just contemplating taking the long way around when a girl from his class walked out of the crowd, heading towards him.
“Terrible, huh?” she said as she approached.
He hesitated a moment before asking, “What happened?”
“Oh, you don’t know? A kid from our school… Witnesses say he just walked out in front of the truck. The driver braked but wasn’t able to stop in time.”
Yunho’s blood ran cold. One of their schoolmates? Was it someone he knew?
“Is he alive?” he asked, voice slightly shaky.
She shook her head, glancing back at the crowd. “I couldn’t tell. There’s blood everywhere. The paramedics are working on him but with all that blood… If he is alive, I don’t think he’s going to make it.” She sighed forlornly. “It’s a shame… He was so young. Quite a cutie too.”
Yunho watched her sharply. “You know who it is?”
“Yeah. Kim Jaejoong. We live on the same street. Nice kid. His mother’s going to be devastated.”
Was he hearing things? Did she just say Kim Jaejoong? The Kim Jaejoong that he’d sent running out of the greenhouse less than thirty minutes ago?
“I wonder why he did it,” she continued, mostly speaking to herself now. “He always seemed so cheerful and upbeat. Hard to think of him being so depressed that he’d want to kill himself.”
Life was so strange… One minute you could be talking to someone and the next, they’re gone.
“Maybe it was an accident,” Yunho found himself saying reflexively.
She nodded. “Could be… But then why didn’t he see the truck?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Regardless of the reason, it’s a real tragedy.” She looked up at Yunho, flashed a slight smile. “I’d better call my mom. Mrs. Kim should hear the news from someone she knows. She’s going to be so broken up. Jaejoong was her youngest, you know. Now it’s just her and his noona.”
Yunho absorbed her words, already feeling sympathetic towards the boy’s family. “There’s no father?”
She shook her head. “He died a few years ago. From a horrible accident too, now that I think about it. Gosh, this is going to kill the poor woman. First her husband, now her son? What terrible luck.”
With that, she walked away, pulling her phone out of her pocket to make that dreadful call.
Yunho watched her go, his mind playing out the scene of Mrs. Kim receiving the news that her only son was dead. He was his mother’s only child so he could imagine just how torn up the woman would be.
Such a senseless loss, he thought.
Feeling even more depressed now, he cast one final glance towards the crowd before turning away from the scene of the tragedy and making his way home.
The next two days were hell for Yunho.
His classes were super hectic because exams were coming up. He had several projects to turn in and important tests to study for. In addition, he had two major games to prepare for and his coaches were running the teams ragged. It was extra hard on him and a handful of others who had the misfortune of being on both the football and the basketball teams, him especially since he was the captain of both. What made it even more stressful was that both coaches were pressuring him to make an important decision that he wasn’t yet ready, or able, to make.
He’d been offered scholarships to a couple of European universities and his coaches were ecstatic. The scholarships were based as much as on his good grades as they were about his skills in both sports but they didn’t care about that. His football coach was trying to turn him into the next Park JiSung, who he’d never personally aspired to be, and his basketball coach liked the prestige the school, not to mention himself, would receive if he played abroad.
As if that wasn’t enough, his parents had been arguing a lot lately. He knew what that meant: things were going to get bad real soon. His father was…a difficult man to love and live with. They had no relationship at this point. But his mother loved him. Whatever his faults, she did, and it was the only reason that Yunho did nothing, even though his fists ached with the need to punch the man, especially when he got physical with her. It killed him to stand by and do nothing while he yelled at her, stomped on her self-esteem, and worse. It was why he stayed locked in his bedroom so much. She asked him to stay out of it, begged and pleaded with him not to interfere, and that was the only way he could. He’d put on his headphones, turn the volume up loud, and pretend like chaos wasn’t reigning outside.
The icing on top of that glorious cake was the death of Kim Jaejoong. It was all anyone could talk about. He couldn’t walk into a classroom without hearing his name. It didn’t really help when he already thought about the boy as much as he did, especially considering the way he’d died and the time they’d spent together just the day before. Everyone had a theory but the majority consensus seemed to be that his death had been intentional. Whenever he thought of the happy bundle of energy he’d spent a lovely afternoon with, he couldn’t resign himself to that train of thought. It just didn't fit. But then he reminded himself that he didn’t really know Jaejoong. Passing a few hours with someone, even being intimate with them, didn’t constitute knowing who they were, all the complicated facets of their personality. He didn’t want to believe it for it made the loss even more tragic but maybe he was wrong and everyone else was right.
Sitting in the cafeteria with his friends, he absently popped a French fry into his mouth, stifling the urge to sigh.
“You look rather forlorn,” Himchan observed, concern creasing his brows. “What’s going on with you?”
Realizing that his friend was speaking to him, he shook the gloom off and looked down at his food.
“Nothing.”
“I swear Yunho, you PMS way more than I do,” Sena snorted.
Yunho’s jaw tightened, his eyes raising to hers. “That can’t possibly be true. I think you have the monopoly on permanent bitch-mode.”
Her eyes slanted in a way that always made him think of a cat ready to strike.
“Now, now kids,” their friend Kihae spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s all play nice. Sena, sheath your claws. Yunho…Have you come to a decision yet?” he asked, changing the topic.
Yunho groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Himchan patted him on the shoulder. “You can’t put it off for much longer, Yunho.”
“It’s not fair for them to force me to choose either,” Yunho snapped.
Himchan patted him again. “I know, I know,” he soothed.
“Hey, did you hear?” Sena leaned in closely in a conspiratorial whisper. “That kid’s funeral is tomorrow.” Her eyes swung to Yunho. “Are you going to say goodbye to your stalker, Yunnie?”
“Fuck you,” he swore, disgusted beyond belief. “Have some respect.”
Sena feigned wide-eyed innocence, holding her hands up in peace. “I’m just saying. The guy used to follow you around like a little puppy. Who knows what perverted fantasies he entertained? I warned you didn’t I? He was sick in the head. Probably did jump in front of that truck, the little psycho.”
Yunho jumped up. “Shut up. Just…shut up.”
Sena sat back, crossing her arms across her chest. “What do you care?”
“You didn’t know him.”
“Neither did you,” she retorted.
Yunho stumbled backwards, feeling like he’d been slapped across the face. Turning on his heel, he quickly walked out of the cafeteria.
What was this feeling, this tightness in his chest?, he wondered, tugging at his neckline. Why had he felt such an overwhelming urge to claw Sena’s eyes out? He was used to her venom and despite it being distasteful to talk badly of the dead, he shouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to her words.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he wrote a quick text to Himchan and headed for his car, thankful that he hadn’t taken the bus to school that day.
Yunho stood on the outskirts of the funeral party, beneath the shade of a leafy tree, wanting to get closer yet not wanting to be seen.
He didn’t know why he was there but when he’d awoken from a night of restless sleep, he’d immediately started getting dressed, just not for school. He’d sat on his bed for an hour, wondering if he had the right to pay his respects when he’d treated Jaejoong so badly the last time they’d spoken. He hadn’t known that such a terrible fate would befall the boy but he still couldn’t help feeling an ounce of guilt for the way it had gone down.
Eventually he’d gathered enough courage to leave the house, avoiding his mother on the way out.
Now, at the cemetery, he was surprised to see how many of their schoolmates had turned up. He hadn’t realized how well liked Jaejoong was. Then again, he really didn’t know much about him, did he?
As the service progressed, he inched his way forward until he was close enough to see the coffin. He looked across the grave, saw the girl he’d spoken to on the day of the accident standing behind two seated women, one older, one younger, gripping each other’s hands as silent tears tracked down their faces.
They must be his mother and sister, he thought.
Their faces were ravaged by grief but he could see the resemblance. They were both pretty, both had his eyes.
I’m sorry.
He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he was. He was sorry that they’d lost a loved one, sorry that they had to experience the pain that came with it, that they only had each other left.
He hardly heard what was said, he was too lost in his thoughts, though his eyes never left the mother and sister. When the service ended and the crowd began to thin out, he told himself that he should leave but he didn’t. He stayed there, in the back, until there was hardly anyone left. He was no longer looking at the family, however. His eyes had settled on the closed casket. He wondered why it was closed. Was Jaejoong’s face too damaged for a viewing? The thought saddened him a little. He’d been a beautiful boy.
Sighing, he glanced up and found himself gazing into a pair of dark eyes frighteningly similar to the boy who’d died.
His mother.
Yunho immediately broke contact but could still feel her eyes on him. The look he’d seen in them disconcerted him. They’d been questioning, knowing. He was sure that he’d never met her before, though, so he didn’t know how she could possibly know of him.
Deciding that he’d overstayed his welcome, he glanced up one last time, saw that Mrs. Kim was still looking at him intently, turned and walked away. He felt like he was walking away from her but she’d looked like she might try to talk to him and the thought frightened him. What could he possibly say to her?
Later that night, Yunho lay in bed, glasses propped on his forehead, an open book clutched to his chest.
He’d been sound asleep for hours.
The stress of the past few days had finally worn him down and, unable to concentrate on what he was reading, he’d decided to take a short nap. However, one hour turned into two and by the third, it had become clear that he wasn’t going to wake up.
He hadn’t been dreaming, his subconscious too tired to create any images, good or bad. He’d just been asleep, snoring softly, when suddenly he felt a pleasant sensation emanating from his groin, like a warm grip around his strangely unrestrained member. He instantly became hard. It was strange to get a hard-on with no dream but maybe he was dreaming and just didn’t know it. He didn’t wake but the ghostly grip and the sensations it caused magnified until his breath became short and he was unconsciously pushing his hips into the point of origin.
Still asleep and becoming more aroused by the second, erotic images popped into his mind. Perhaps because it was his last sexual encounter, Jaejoong and his pouty red lips appeared, his mind’s eye glued to that innocent face while his warm, wet mouth worked its magic on his engorged head. It was easy enough to transpose the image of Jaejoong’s lips closed around his spoon to that same mouth engulfing his hardness.
His body responded further, legs parting, hips thrusting wildly. He was semi-awake now but his eyes didn’t open, his mind still playing the tantalizing scene of Jaejoong going down on him. Somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, he remembered that he was getting off to the memory of a dead boy. How he became aroused so suddenly to the point where he was on the brink of orgasm was of no consequence, only to whom.
He was there, right there.
“Come for me, Yunho. Come for me.”
One quick flick of a clever tongue and he was coming, his own soft moans reaching his ears.
It was when he heard it that he realized what else he’d heard. His eyes flew open and his moans froze on a gasp. His eyes bulged out of their sockets while his mind raced to understand what his eyes beheld.
Yunho watched as a familiar pink tongue flicked the tip of his still weeping cock before disappearing between blood red lips, which were nestled in a face he thought he’d never see again.
When Jaejoong smiled at him, a delightfully wicked, frighteningly determined smile, horror swept over him, driving all the heat from his body and…he screamed.
Bonus
Author: VampireMadonna
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG-13
Length: Undetermined
Summary: A tragic end leads to a new beginning...
Yunho kept his back turned, counting as the seconds ticked by, feeling like a heel the longer he stood there, knowing that the kid was probably staring at his back with that same wounded, heart-broken look he’d seen in his eyes.
When he heard stumbling feet followed by the door closing, he sagged against the table, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
He hadn’t meant to be as harsh as he’d been but he’d had so much on his mind all day and had needed some time alone so when he’d had his solitude interrupted, he’d snapped. It wouldn’t have mattered who had come in but, unfortunately, it turned out to be the last person he’d have wanted to hurt.
“I don’t know you, and I don’t want to.”
Lies! He knew exactly who he was. Kim Jaejoong: 16, sophomore, hung with an eclectic bunch far different from his group. He couldn’t and wouldn’t claim to know what Jaejoong’s interests were, his dreams and aspirations, but he’d made it sound like he was an absolute stranger to him and that technically wasn’t true.
He’d been aware of Jaejoong’s attentions for quite a while now, had even noticed him that very morning as he’d passed him in the hallway. Sena, the ex-girlfriend from hell who refused to detach her claws no matter how clear he made it that he wanted nothing to do with her, had been the one to point out Jaejoong’s…interest in him. Her phrasing had been less than complimentary when she’d mentioned it, her opinion of Jaejoong even less so, but he’d learned over the years to ignore her bitchy remarks and get to the heart of the matter: this kid, Jaejoong, was apparently infatuated with him.
After that first time, he’d started noticing him more and more. He hated to use the word “stalking” but that was kind of what he did: hiding around corners, popping up at his games, following at a respectable but still visible distance. He’d considered approaching Jaejoong, although he had no idea what one said to a stalker, but Sena had immediately disapproved of the idea. He didn’t know why he’d listened to her, he usually didn’t, but her vehemence caught him off guard. Telling himself that perhaps, for once, she wasn’t being a self-serving bitch, he heeded her warning and tried to pretend that Kim Jaejoong did not exist.
He’d managed to do so until the day before when he’d become aware of his tail. He’d decided that that was a good opportunity to confront the boy. He’d had no intention of threatening him, nor befriending him, he simply wanted some assurance that he didn’t have a potentially violent obsessive fan on his hands. When the boy had followed him into the shoe store, he’d been handed the perfect opportunity.
“Bumping” into him led to a short awkward conversation but was quickly followed by an actually enjoyable time spent talking about collectible sneakers, which was a passion of his and something he’d never expected to share with Jaejoong. By the end of their shoe-store adventure, he’d felt so relaxed with the boy that it had seemed natural to continue their friendly excursion round the town, going from shop to shop until finally they’d worked up an appetite and decided that food was in order. It was during that time that the atmosphere started changing.
The conversation was light and completely unimportant but as they ate, he became aware of certain things about Kim Jaejoong. Like the way he ate, how he chewed slowly and always covered his mouth if he spoke while chewing. How deep a pink his lips were and how sensuous they looked when they closed around his spoon. How sometimes he would stop to think with the spoon in his mouth so his lips paused in a semi-permanent pucker/pout of sorts. Basically, his thoughts weren’t the kind he ever had around or about other guys, or even girls for that matter, and they freaked him out. To make things worse, he found himself thinking that Jaejoong was frighteningly pretty for a boy, with his big, dark, doe-shaped eyes, accentuated by the long bangs on his forehead. And his lips again, of course.
Jaejoong, if his continuous chatter was any indication, didn’t seem to notice his intense stare or the fact that he wasn’t actively participating in the conversation, for which he was grateful. It would have been extremely awkward if he’d been caught with confused lust in his eyes by the object of that lust. By the end of the meal, he’d decided that it was time to part ways with Kim Jaejoong and go back to being Jung Yunho, the athlete and most wanted guy in their school, but then Jaejoong pointed to the noraebang and suggested that they go for a while. His mind had immediately shouted a resounding no but somehow he’d found himself saying yes. The pure, joyful smile that Jaejoong shot him then had almost blinded him.
He couldn’t sing to save his life, as he’d told Jaejoong from the outset and he’d proven it from the very first song, but unlike his friends, who usually made fun of on his lack of musicality, Jaejoong looked at him with a kind of awed reverence, like he was Pavarotti or something. It had made his neck warm…and his heart pitter-pattered a little too.
When Jaejoong took over, singing his girl group songs full of enthusiasm and energy, shaking his little butt as he did so, Yunho couldn’t help but notice, as his eyes drifted over the boy, that that little butt was quite shapely. And, without his uniform jacket, his waist was perhaps the tiniest he’d ever seen. He’d wondered if his hands would meet if they spanned his waist and his palms tingled to hold him there. His eyes glued onto Jaejoong’s wiggling derriere and for the life of him, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. When he felt himself hardening, an alarm went off in his head. What the hell was he doing? What was happening to him?
And then Jaejoong turned around, his rosy lips pursed in a small pout, eyes wide and questioning as he held the mic out to him. The thought hadn’t even finished passing through his mind before he had him on his lap and was kissing him madly, which was exactly how he’d felt: mad. It was pure insanity. Never in his life would he have imagined that in one afternoon he could go from being merely curious about an absolute stranger to having to fight back the urge to strip him naked and do very bad things to him. To a “him”.
But Jaejoong had responded to his kissing, had kissed him back just as fervently, had touched him with the same frenzy. What could he do? Why should he fight it? Why would he when the body pressing against his was so soft and welcoming?
What happened after that was an ecstasy-filled blur. Clothes came off then Jaejoong’s curious hands had wandered to private places, shortly followed by his mouth. He’d received more oral attention than he could ever count but there was something about the first tentative touch of Jaejoong’s small hands, the first bold stroke of his tongue that had almost set him off. Jaejoong’s experience was clearly limited - Yunho wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he was the first person Jaejoong had ever done anything with - but it had excited and touched him more than the most experienced of hands and having been with Sena, who could still teach him a thing or two, that was saying a lot.
He didn’t really know what came next, he sort of just went with the flow. Sex with a guy couldn’t be much different than sex with a girl right? There was just one entrance instead of two. That was his logic at the time. He’d had the presence of mind to use a condom to pave the way more comfortably for Jaejoong, though it had made it a little uncomfortable for him, and had let his body handle the rest.
It wasn’t his best performance by a long shot. He’d tried to be gentle, knowing that Jaejoong was probably in a lot of pain, and he’d succeeded in that sense at least. But neither one of them had fully enjoyed the experience, he was sure, yet, neither one hated it either. With practice…
With practice? What the hell are you talking about?
He rubbed a weary hand over his face, suddenly feeling tired.
He’d come and he’d made sure that Jaejoong had too. That was the most he could do for him since he knew that Jaejoong’s first time hadn’t been as special as it should have, what with being screwed on the filthy couch of a noraebang and all. He’d lain there a while after, unmoving, trying to sort his thoughts out while he had a mental meltdown. But he hid it all from Jaejoong. He was not going to ruin it for him. They’d cleaned up, gotten dressed and left. It should’ve been awkward, walking together to the bus stop after what they’d just done, but it surprised him that it wasn’t. He was freaking out inside but it wasn’t about the fact that he’d just had sex with a guy. Well… partly, it was but mostly it was who he’d had sex with, where and under what circumstances. He’d never had sex on the first date, never had a one night stand, so it was new territory for him too. He’d always thought that random hookups were despicable and an indicator of whorish behavior but he was surprised to realize that he did not feel that way when he thought about what he’d just done with Jaejoong.
The look on Jaejoong’s face as he waved goodbye from inside the bus stayed with him the rest of the night. So sweet, so innocent, so genuine. Other than his best friend, he often felt that the people around him were only there for his status, for what being associated with him gave them. But for that one afternoon with Jaejoong, he got to experience what it felt like to just be Yunho, not a star and all the expectations that came along with it. He didn’t doubt that his status was part of Jaejoong’s infatuation with him but he hadn’t treated him like a deity and hadn’t made him uncomfortable at any point during their time together, so much so that he’d actually forgotten that Jaejoong was supposed to be his stalker and felt like he was…a friend.
As he’d lain in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he’d relived his experience with Jaejoong. Though he’d had sex many, many, many times, he didn’t think he’d ever made love. He’d thought he had, once upon a time, but reality had slapped him in the face soon after. However, thinking back on what he’d felt while he’d been with Jaejoong, both before, during and after intercourse, he wondered if, perhaps, that’s what it was like for people in love. The breathless anticipation, awkward hesitation, that moment of worry and self-consciousness, then finally gathering courage to get going, culminating in that moment where eyes met, heartbeats synchronized, the rest of the world faded and all that remained were two people locked in a shared experience that only they could understand.
He’d been extraordinarily touched by his experience with Jaejoong, feeling strangely grateful to some extent, and as he’d started to drift off to sleep, a small smile on his lips, he’d wondered if they’d ever share that experience again.
Then morning came and reality slapped him in the face once more.
Sighing, he gathered his things, slung his bag over his shoulder and started out of the greenhouse.
His experience with Kim Jaejoong was best forgotten. Neither one of them had any place in the other’s lives. He wasn’t gay but even if he’d wanted to further explore what had happened between them, there was too much going on in his life at the moment to even think about adding another complication. He was sorry for hurting the kid’s feelings but perhaps hating Yunho would help him move on faster. As for him, he was thankful that he didn’t have training that day. He wanted nothing more than to dive into bed, pull a pillow over his head and block out the world until tomorrow.
As he approached the intersection around the corner from the school, he became aware of a commotion. There was a crowd gathered, sirens blaring. His brows furrowed as he wondered what could have happened to cause such chaos.
He stopped where he was, not wanting to join the crowd. If it was an accident of some kind then the more people that gathered, the more difficult it would be for the medics to attend to the injured. He was just contemplating taking the long way around when a girl from his class walked out of the crowd, heading towards him.
“Terrible, huh?” she said as she approached.
He hesitated a moment before asking, “What happened?”
“Oh, you don’t know? A kid from our school… Witnesses say he just walked out in front of the truck. The driver braked but wasn’t able to stop in time.”
Yunho’s blood ran cold. One of their schoolmates? Was it someone he knew?
“Is he alive?” he asked, voice slightly shaky.
She shook her head, glancing back at the crowd. “I couldn’t tell. There’s blood everywhere. The paramedics are working on him but with all that blood… If he is alive, I don’t think he’s going to make it.” She sighed forlornly. “It’s a shame… He was so young. Quite a cutie too.”
Yunho watched her sharply. “You know who it is?”
“Yeah. Kim Jaejoong. We live on the same street. Nice kid. His mother’s going to be devastated.”
Was he hearing things? Did she just say Kim Jaejoong? The Kim Jaejoong that he’d sent running out of the greenhouse less than thirty minutes ago?
“I wonder why he did it,” she continued, mostly speaking to herself now. “He always seemed so cheerful and upbeat. Hard to think of him being so depressed that he’d want to kill himself.”
Life was so strange… One minute you could be talking to someone and the next, they’re gone.
“Maybe it was an accident,” Yunho found himself saying reflexively.
She nodded. “Could be… But then why didn’t he see the truck?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Regardless of the reason, it’s a real tragedy.” She looked up at Yunho, flashed a slight smile. “I’d better call my mom. Mrs. Kim should hear the news from someone she knows. She’s going to be so broken up. Jaejoong was her youngest, you know. Now it’s just her and his noona.”
Yunho absorbed her words, already feeling sympathetic towards the boy’s family. “There’s no father?”
She shook her head. “He died a few years ago. From a horrible accident too, now that I think about it. Gosh, this is going to kill the poor woman. First her husband, now her son? What terrible luck.”
With that, she walked away, pulling her phone out of her pocket to make that dreadful call.
Yunho watched her go, his mind playing out the scene of Mrs. Kim receiving the news that her only son was dead. He was his mother’s only child so he could imagine just how torn up the woman would be.
Such a senseless loss, he thought.
Feeling even more depressed now, he cast one final glance towards the crowd before turning away from the scene of the tragedy and making his way home.
The next two days were hell for Yunho.
His classes were super hectic because exams were coming up. He had several projects to turn in and important tests to study for. In addition, he had two major games to prepare for and his coaches were running the teams ragged. It was extra hard on him and a handful of others who had the misfortune of being on both the football and the basketball teams, him especially since he was the captain of both. What made it even more stressful was that both coaches were pressuring him to make an important decision that he wasn’t yet ready, or able, to make.
He’d been offered scholarships to a couple of European universities and his coaches were ecstatic. The scholarships were based as much as on his good grades as they were about his skills in both sports but they didn’t care about that. His football coach was trying to turn him into the next Park JiSung, who he’d never personally aspired to be, and his basketball coach liked the prestige the school, not to mention himself, would receive if he played abroad.
As if that wasn’t enough, his parents had been arguing a lot lately. He knew what that meant: things were going to get bad real soon. His father was…a difficult man to love and live with. They had no relationship at this point. But his mother loved him. Whatever his faults, she did, and it was the only reason that Yunho did nothing, even though his fists ached with the need to punch the man, especially when he got physical with her. It killed him to stand by and do nothing while he yelled at her, stomped on her self-esteem, and worse. It was why he stayed locked in his bedroom so much. She asked him to stay out of it, begged and pleaded with him not to interfere, and that was the only way he could. He’d put on his headphones, turn the volume up loud, and pretend like chaos wasn’t reigning outside.
The icing on top of that glorious cake was the death of Kim Jaejoong. It was all anyone could talk about. He couldn’t walk into a classroom without hearing his name. It didn’t really help when he already thought about the boy as much as he did, especially considering the way he’d died and the time they’d spent together just the day before. Everyone had a theory but the majority consensus seemed to be that his death had been intentional. Whenever he thought of the happy bundle of energy he’d spent a lovely afternoon with, he couldn’t resign himself to that train of thought. It just didn't fit. But then he reminded himself that he didn’t really know Jaejoong. Passing a few hours with someone, even being intimate with them, didn’t constitute knowing who they were, all the complicated facets of their personality. He didn’t want to believe it for it made the loss even more tragic but maybe he was wrong and everyone else was right.
Sitting in the cafeteria with his friends, he absently popped a French fry into his mouth, stifling the urge to sigh.
“You look rather forlorn,” Himchan observed, concern creasing his brows. “What’s going on with you?”
Realizing that his friend was speaking to him, he shook the gloom off and looked down at his food.
“Nothing.”
“I swear Yunho, you PMS way more than I do,” Sena snorted.
Yunho’s jaw tightened, his eyes raising to hers. “That can’t possibly be true. I think you have the monopoly on permanent bitch-mode.”
Her eyes slanted in a way that always made him think of a cat ready to strike.
“Now, now kids,” their friend Kihae spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s all play nice. Sena, sheath your claws. Yunho…Have you come to a decision yet?” he asked, changing the topic.
Yunho groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Himchan patted him on the shoulder. “You can’t put it off for much longer, Yunho.”
“It’s not fair for them to force me to choose either,” Yunho snapped.
Himchan patted him again. “I know, I know,” he soothed.
“Hey, did you hear?” Sena leaned in closely in a conspiratorial whisper. “That kid’s funeral is tomorrow.” Her eyes swung to Yunho. “Are you going to say goodbye to your stalker, Yunnie?”
“Fuck you,” he swore, disgusted beyond belief. “Have some respect.”
Sena feigned wide-eyed innocence, holding her hands up in peace. “I’m just saying. The guy used to follow you around like a little puppy. Who knows what perverted fantasies he entertained? I warned you didn’t I? He was sick in the head. Probably did jump in front of that truck, the little psycho.”
Yunho jumped up. “Shut up. Just…shut up.”
Sena sat back, crossing her arms across her chest. “What do you care?”
“You didn’t know him.”
“Neither did you,” she retorted.
Yunho stumbled backwards, feeling like he’d been slapped across the face. Turning on his heel, he quickly walked out of the cafeteria.
What was this feeling, this tightness in his chest?, he wondered, tugging at his neckline. Why had he felt such an overwhelming urge to claw Sena’s eyes out? He was used to her venom and despite it being distasteful to talk badly of the dead, he shouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to her words.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he wrote a quick text to Himchan and headed for his car, thankful that he hadn’t taken the bus to school that day.
Yunho stood on the outskirts of the funeral party, beneath the shade of a leafy tree, wanting to get closer yet not wanting to be seen.
He didn’t know why he was there but when he’d awoken from a night of restless sleep, he’d immediately started getting dressed, just not for school. He’d sat on his bed for an hour, wondering if he had the right to pay his respects when he’d treated Jaejoong so badly the last time they’d spoken. He hadn’t known that such a terrible fate would befall the boy but he still couldn’t help feeling an ounce of guilt for the way it had gone down.
Eventually he’d gathered enough courage to leave the house, avoiding his mother on the way out.
Now, at the cemetery, he was surprised to see how many of their schoolmates had turned up. He hadn’t realized how well liked Jaejoong was. Then again, he really didn’t know much about him, did he?
As the service progressed, he inched his way forward until he was close enough to see the coffin. He looked across the grave, saw the girl he’d spoken to on the day of the accident standing behind two seated women, one older, one younger, gripping each other’s hands as silent tears tracked down their faces.
They must be his mother and sister, he thought.
Their faces were ravaged by grief but he could see the resemblance. They were both pretty, both had his eyes.
I’m sorry.
He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but he was. He was sorry that they’d lost a loved one, sorry that they had to experience the pain that came with it, that they only had each other left.
He hardly heard what was said, he was too lost in his thoughts, though his eyes never left the mother and sister. When the service ended and the crowd began to thin out, he told himself that he should leave but he didn’t. He stayed there, in the back, until there was hardly anyone left. He was no longer looking at the family, however. His eyes had settled on the closed casket. He wondered why it was closed. Was Jaejoong’s face too damaged for a viewing? The thought saddened him a little. He’d been a beautiful boy.
Sighing, he glanced up and found himself gazing into a pair of dark eyes frighteningly similar to the boy who’d died.
His mother.
Yunho immediately broke contact but could still feel her eyes on him. The look he’d seen in them disconcerted him. They’d been questioning, knowing. He was sure that he’d never met her before, though, so he didn’t know how she could possibly know of him.
Deciding that he’d overstayed his welcome, he glanced up one last time, saw that Mrs. Kim was still looking at him intently, turned and walked away. He felt like he was walking away from her but she’d looked like she might try to talk to him and the thought frightened him. What could he possibly say to her?
Later that night, Yunho lay in bed, glasses propped on his forehead, an open book clutched to his chest.
He’d been sound asleep for hours.
The stress of the past few days had finally worn him down and, unable to concentrate on what he was reading, he’d decided to take a short nap. However, one hour turned into two and by the third, it had become clear that he wasn’t going to wake up.
He hadn’t been dreaming, his subconscious too tired to create any images, good or bad. He’d just been asleep, snoring softly, when suddenly he felt a pleasant sensation emanating from his groin, like a warm grip around his strangely unrestrained member. He instantly became hard. It was strange to get a hard-on with no dream but maybe he was dreaming and just didn’t know it. He didn’t wake but the ghostly grip and the sensations it caused magnified until his breath became short and he was unconsciously pushing his hips into the point of origin.
Still asleep and becoming more aroused by the second, erotic images popped into his mind. Perhaps because it was his last sexual encounter, Jaejoong and his pouty red lips appeared, his mind’s eye glued to that innocent face while his warm, wet mouth worked its magic on his engorged head. It was easy enough to transpose the image of Jaejoong’s lips closed around his spoon to that same mouth engulfing his hardness.
His body responded further, legs parting, hips thrusting wildly. He was semi-awake now but his eyes didn’t open, his mind still playing the tantalizing scene of Jaejoong going down on him. Somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, he remembered that he was getting off to the memory of a dead boy. How he became aroused so suddenly to the point where he was on the brink of orgasm was of no consequence, only to whom.
He was there, right there.
“Come for me, Yunho. Come for me.”
One quick flick of a clever tongue and he was coming, his own soft moans reaching his ears.
It was when he heard it that he realized what else he’d heard. His eyes flew open and his moans froze on a gasp. His eyes bulged out of their sockets while his mind raced to understand what his eyes beheld.
Yunho watched as a familiar pink tongue flicked the tip of his still weeping cock before disappearing between blood red lips, which were nestled in a face he thought he’d never see again.
When Jaejoong smiled at him, a delightfully wicked, frighteningly determined smile, horror swept over him, driving all the heat from his body and…he screamed.
Bonus