lagoon

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/4617372.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: GOT7, JJ Project
Relationship: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung | Jr., Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Character: Im Jaebum | JB, Park Jinyoung | Jr., Mark Tuan, Jackson Wang, Kim
Yugyeom, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam, Choi Youngjae
Series: Part 2 of lapis lazuli
Stats: Published: 2015-08-20 Words: 38190

lagoon
by gotchick

Summary

in elegant terms, jaebum is jinyoung's sponsor. in inelegant terms, he's jinyoung's sugar
daddy.

Up until Jinyoung's twenty-fifth year, the colour blue has never held any special significance for him.
Up until the day he meets Im Jaebum for the first time, standing on the deck of a luxury yatch,
framed by acres of open, cornflower blue sky, the ocean an almost transparent sheet of rippling
aquamarine behind him, stretching endlessly to meet at the horizon. Im Jaebum, billionaire, successor
of Im Enterprises, richer than Croesus and the owner of this sprawling, private yatch. But at that
time, Jinyoung doesn't know any of this yet. All he thinks is that this tall, swarthy guy sporting an
impeccably coiffed, obviously-more-expensive-than-Jinyoung's-yearly-salary dye job and an
elegantly understated but undoubtedly designer three-piece suit looks like a royal douchebag.

Jinyoung pauses a distance away, moving his hand discreetly behind him to lean unsteadily against
the railing and convinces himself that the reason his breathing suddenly feels too shallow is because
of the blinding expanse of sheer blue and not the way the man's hair, a jet black that is impossibly
darker than the stern charcoal of his suit and can't be natural gleams like the slick coat of a black seal
underneath the late afternoon sun. The way his eyes are raking boldly down the length of Jinyoung's
body, from his head to his toes with a blistering intensity that makes Jinyoung feel suddenly stripped
of clothes, bare and exposed.

Jinyoung's mouth feels parched, his throat dry and head light as the man cocks his head slightly,
lowering his champagne glass from his lips as an almost indiscernible smile spreads over them. It's a
smile that is oddly frightening, pleased and predatory all at once and Jinyoung sees the unmistakable
glint of interest in his eyes, his own caught entranced by the man's tongue slipping out of his mouth
to wet his chapped lips. When he looks up again, the man's eyes have darkened, narrowed with an
uncanny amusement that gives Jinyoung the impression that he can read every thought flitting
through Jinyoung's mind like drunken butterflies colliding. He takes an imperceptible step towards
Jinyoung, and Jinyoung backs away instinctively, seized by an urge to run and an even more
powerful force rooting him to the ground, spellbound.

The corners of the man's mouth turn down as he dispenses with subtlety and closes the remaining
distance between them in three long strides. Before Jinyoung can turn to flee, he feels the sinking
dread and soaring exhilaration of a strong hand closing around his upper arm, callused fingers
stroking the delicate skin on the inside of his arm. Jinyoung suppresses an involuntary shudder and
composes his face before he turns around with a serene smile that betrays none of his fluster,
questioning eyes and a cordial tone. "Can I help you?"

Strangely enough, what finally throws Jinyoung is not his own traitorous heartbeat but the look in the
man's eyes, curiously uncertain, lost and embarrassed in stark contrast to the brute force of his grip on
Jinyoung's arm. His fingers tremble on the stem of his wine glass and his mouth falls open slightly,
seeming at a loss for words, and something about the combination of this expression and gesture
goes straight past Jinyoung's defences and to the depths of his heart.

"I --" the man stutters, his voice hoarse, then clears his throat and regains a measure of aloofness.
"I'm Im Jaebum."

He looks at Jinyoung expectantly, as if expecting Jinyoung to recognize the name, and frowns, his
face falling a little when Jinyoung just blinks, the unfamiliar name ringing a faint bell somewhere in
his mind but not immediately significant.

"This is my yatch," Jaebum continues a little impatiently. "My party." He seems to expect Jinyoung
to be impressed, and honestly, this information is quite impressive, so Jinyoung allows a little of his
awe to reflect on his face and Jaebum looks satisfied at last.

He flashes a smug grin, seemingly more at ease now that he has asserted his status as the host.
Jinyoung's mind is reeling to process this new revelation. It's truthfully an unlikely coincidence that
he's at this party, and he doesn't know much about the nature of it or the organizers, except that his
fencing teammate and roommate Jackson's latest squeeze, Yugyeom had gotten a bunch of
complimentary tickets and invited Jinyoung and Bambam along. Usually, Jinyoung wasn't much into
stuffy events like this and the posh, upper-class socialites who frequented them, but Jackson had
lured him into it with a promise of all-you-can-eat delicacies and promptly abandoned him as soon as
they arrived. Jinyoung had been wandering around aimlessly, admiring the stately yatch and the
peaceful rocking of the waves and planning to bail with a text to Jackson when he happened upon
Jaebum gazing out on the ocean and sipping wine, his eyes distant.

Now, Jaebum's eyes continue boring into him, growing impatient again and Jinyoung senses that he
is supposed to say something but for the life of him can't think what. His brain is dazedly empty,
absently lingering on the way the sunshine brings out electric blue highlights in Jaebum's hair, like
woven gossamer threads.

"Your name...?" Jaebum finally prompts, looking mildly frustrated as if he's not used to people not
falling over their feet to introduce themselves to him.

"Oh! I, uh, I'm J-jinyoung," Jinyoung replies smoothly, then bites his tongue hard, groaning
inwardly.

"Jinyoung," Jaebum repeats under his breath, like an incantation, like a password he's commiting to
memory, and Jinyoung feels a shiver crawl from the very tips of his bones, his insides suddenly
liquid. "Jinyoung," Jaebum whispers again as he looks down and frowns, and when he looks up
again Jinyoung's breath catches in his throat at the scorching hunger of Jaebum's eyes, the longing
warmth. "Where have you been all my life?"

At this juncture of their scintillating, bizarre and increasingly awkward conversation, Jackson
materializes. Jinyoung offers up a silent Hallelujah to the skies and frees his arm discreetly from
Jaebum's grasp. Jaebum's empty hand falls limply to his side and his gaze flickers blankly to it, brow
creasing.

Jinyoung swears he has never been so relieved and thankful for Jackson's inopportune, obnoxious
entrances and dense obliviousness to the tension palpable in the air.

"Yo, Park Jinyoung!" Jackson bellows, slinging a heavy arm around Jinyoung's shoulder, and
Jinyoung winces at his glaring cheer. "Where the heck have you been? Bambam has been looking all
over for you."

Jinyoung feels the heat of a gaze and is abruptly aware that Jaebum is glowering at Jackson for no
apparent reason, his eyes flashing with hostility and rivalry. "Who are you?" he grits out, voice low.

"Whoa, there," Jinyoung starts, still confused about the anger emanating from Jaebum's stare. Sure,
Jackson had interrupted their conversation, but it wasn't like they were having a particularly
meaningful chat. Hell, they didn't even know each other five minutes ago.

But before he can continue, Jackson has finally wised up to the situation and swiftly catalogued
Jaebum, dismissing him with a cocky smirk. "And who's this creepy ahjussi?" he bends to whisper in
Jinyoung's ear, keeping his eyes on Jaebum, his smile widening at the way Jaebum's face flushes
hotly.

Jinyoung hooks his fingers around Jackson's, curled proprietarily around his shoulder and pries them
off gently but firmly. He doesn't know why Jackson gets off on antagonizing everyone he meets,
especially those "filthy rich pricks", in his own words, who try to hit on him. Jinyoung doesn't know
what the silent battle of wills is about this time, but he is determined not to be caught in the middle.

"This is Jackson, my friend," he introduces politely. "I just met Jaebum-sshi," he tells Jackson. "He's
the host of this party."

At his words, Jackson's expression morphs instantly into grudging respect. "Oops," he mumbles
sheepishly. "I didn't know. Thanks for having us. Great party."

Jackson flashes his easy grin, the one that reveals a mouthful of straight, shiny teeth and has never
failed to disarm everybody he sees. Inexplicably, Jinyoung feels a stab of annoyance, the urge to hide
Jackson away from Jaebum's keen eyes, his disrobing gaze. It's so unfair the way Jackson charms the
pants off everyone he meets, always monopolizing all the attention.

But when Jinyoung looks up, he's stunned to see that Jaebum is not looking in Jackson's direction at
all but still staring intently at him, almost greedily like he wants to drink Jinyoung's features in with
his eyes. It's almost like Jackson is transparent to Jaebum, like Jaebum is looking right through him
and seeing Jinyoung, really seeing him. And the way that Jaebum is looking at Jinyoung, it -- it
makes him feel seen.

Blinking rapidly, Jinyoung tears his gaze away from Jaebum's scrutiny and brushes Jackson's arm for
reassurance. His legs feel wobbly, his voice foreign to his own ears as he says vaguely, "We have to
go."

"At fucking last," Jackson groans in relief. "If you thought Yugyeom and Bambam would get along
like a house on fire, you were wrong," he says flatly.

Jinyoung takes in Jackson's wry smile, his tired eyes, and feels a pang of sympathy for his best
friend. He knows that in Jackson's ideal world, all their teammates would become instant BFFs with
his chic, scruffy boyfriend. Instead, Jinyoung had gotten an off vibe from him from the start,
although he didn't voice it to Jackson, hoping it was just his overactive suspicion.

"Well, maybe they wouldn't be at loggerheads all the time if Yugyeom would stop prattling about his
pretentious violin conservatory for a minute," he coaxes, linking arms with Jackson and leading him
away, already forgetting Im Jaebum and unaware of the searing heat of his mute gaze. Yup, totally
unaware.

"Don't you dare insult Yugyeomie!" Jackson protests. "He's an artist, okay?" He huffs and Jinyoung
stifles a chuckle at Jackson's loyal devotion to his boyfriend.

"Wait!" Jaebum's voice rings out behind them, stopping Jinyoung in his tracks. Jackson peers at them
quizzically as Jinyoung turns around with forced breeziness. "Yes?" he says pleasantly, barely able
to hear his own thin voice over the pounding of his chest.

He turns, and there's that expression again -- unsure, stricken, helpless. It shakes Jinyoung to his
core. Who the hell is this guy, exactly? Jinyoung feels a surge of defensiveness and unconsciously
snaps, "What?"

Jaebum flinches. His stance is empty of arrogance now, his powerfully built shoulders slumped in
defeat and eyes darting with mild panic from side to side but never meeting Jinyoung's. Against his
better judgement, Jinyoung finds himself softening.

"What do you want?" Jackson prods none too ceremoniously, looking at his watch. "We're in a
rush."

Jaebum's gaze snaps up at this, his eyes moving between Jackson and Jinyoung as if trying to figure
out a puzzle that confounds him. Without warning, he sets his glass down on the floor of the deck
and strides up to Jinyoung, whipping out a mahogany suede wallet. He slides a card out and presses
it into Jinyoung's palm. His eyes rise to hold Jinyoung's, reaching into them urgently. "Call me," he
leans forward to breathe in Jinyoung's ear almost unintelligibly before sauntering away, and
Jinyoung is left trembling in the dizzying cloud of his musky cologne, wondering why the barest
brush of Jaebum's lips against his earlobe sends earthquake-scale tremors through his bones; why the
husky honey of Jaebum's voice feels for all the world like unspoken promises.

The card remains clutched tightly in Jinyoung's hand in a death grip all the time while they scour the
mass of mingling partygoers for Yugyeom and Bambam, finally locating them by the raised voices of
their slightly intoxicated bickering and ushering the two younger boys out of the banquet hall and
towards the gangplank; while they hustle off board onto the quay where the yatch is moored, onto
dry land; while Jackson pats Yugyeom's pockets for the keys to his vintage Volkswagen and packs
them bawdily into it; while he gets into the passenger seat next to Jackson and watches detachedly as
he revs the ignition and accelerates roughly onto the highway.
Yugyeom hiccups from the backseat and drapes his arms over Jackson's shoulder, licking his ear.
Jinyoung shudders and looks away as Jackson swerves to the road shoulder and yells at Yugyeom to
sit his ass down or Jackson will make it too painful to sit on.

"Remind me never to date a teenager again," Jackson mutters to Jinyoung, shaking his head wearily
and getting back into the driver's seat after he has strapped Yugyeom down with his seat belt.
Jinyoung barks a laugh.

"I'm notta 'eenager!" Yugyeom slurs, outraged. "I'm twenty-one," he proclaims importantly.

"Oh, really?" Jackson shoots back, smirking. "Funny because you act like you're twelve."

After Jackson has dumped Bambam at his house, Jinyoung feels sharp, hard edges cutting into his
palm and looks down, surprised to find Jaebum's name card still doggedly lodged in his hand. He
unravels his fingers and squints down at it in the dim encroaching nightfall. The card is damp with a
sheen of cold sweat, seeming to shimmer in the moonlight with mysterious possibility. Jinyoung
hungrily devours the few words embossed in an official-looking font on the card. It simply reads Im
Jaebum, CEO, Im Enterprises. When he repeats it aloud to Jackson, he slams his foot down on the
brakes, gravel crunching beneath the tires as his eyes widen dramatically.

"Holy shit," he breathes, snatching the card from Jinyoung. "CEO?"

In the backseat, Yugyeom grunts and continues snoring.

"I can not believe this," Jackson declares empathically. "Im Enterprises? The Im Enterprises?"

Jinyoung kind of gets where he's coming from. He might not have recognized Jaebum, but one
would have to be living under a rock not to have heard of Im Enterprises, the fastest expanding
multinational technological conglomerate in South and Northeast Asia in the last decade. He can
hardly reconcile the title CEO with the imposing but nonetheless young man he met on the yatch a
few hours ago. It's all starting to seem a little surreal.

"Jinyoung-ah," Jackson says softly, a glint Jinyoung decidedly does not like in his eyes. "How do
you know this guy?"

"I-I don't know him," Jinyoung says quickly, grabbing the card back and shoving it in his pocket.
"We barely talked for like, five minutes."

"Bullshit," Jackson snorts, eyes amused. "I'm sure Im Jaebum-sshi doesn't just go around giving out
his name cards to random people."

"Believe what you like," Jinyoung deadpans, facing forward again. "Are we going to sit here all
night, or are you going to drive home?"

The third evening after the party, Jinyoung is rudely interrupted in the groove he's wearing into their
apartment carpet with his relentless pacing by Jackson throwing his phone at him.
"Call him, dumbass," Jackson intones, even before Jinyoung can protest his innocence. Jinyoung
opens his mouth guiltily, but Jackson silences him with an imperious look, the look that says I'm your
best friend so don't even try that crap on me.

Jinyoung groans. "I threw away the card," he lies.

Jackson hoots with laughter. "I think you meant you built a shrine for it."

When Jinyoung ignores him, he leaps off the couch and charges towards Jinyoung's room. "Alrighty
then, I guess you don't mind me helping you to search."

"OI!" Jinyoung roars, tearing after Jackson. Sometimes he's pretty certain he's saddled with the worst
roommate in the world.

The wrestling match that ensues ends, predictably, with a score of one-love, Jackson crowing in
truimph as he emerges as the winner. He holds Jaebum's card aloft from where he had dug it out
from under Jinyoung's pillow and gleefully scampers out of the room, already dialing the digits into
Jinyoung's phone.

Jinyoung stumbles frantically after him, on the verge of tears. "NOOOO!" he releases an anguished
cry as Jackson punches in the numbers and stabs the call button, then turns on the speakerphone.

Jinyoung's heart nearly jumps out of his throat as the phone starts ringing, every trill feeling like a jolt
to his solar plexus. He buries his face in his hands with resigned dread, hoping against hope that
maybe, thankfully, Jaebum won't answer, when --

"Hello?"

Jinyoung stifles a silent scream with his fist as he raises panicked eyes to Jackson, pleading for help.
Jackson finally takes pity on him and opens his mouth to answer, but then Jaebum's face flashes into
Jinyoung's mind, terse and drawn, his lips tight as his jaw clenched in animosity at Jackson. With
remarkable reflexes that make Jackson's jaw drop in admiration, Jinyoung dives forward and seizes
the phone, switching off the speaker and pressing it to his ear. It feels warm, alive, slippery in his
clammy hands. "Hello?" Jaebum repeats, sounding pissed off now.

"H-hi?" Jinyoung stammers. It comes out uncertainly, like a question and he swallows hard.

There is a brief pause, then a sharp intake of breath over the line. Then a long, charged silence before
Jaebum says quietly, "Jinyoung?"

His voice is completely changed, all traces of annoyance gone to soften into the silky dulcet that
Jinyoung remembers. Jinyoung's eyes almost flutter closed to the intangible caress in that single word
before he remembers that Jackson is staring at him.

He clears his throat and manages to choke out casually, "Yup. W-what's up?" tagging on a strangled
giggle for good measure.

There is a soft exhalation on the other end of the line, and Jinyoung has the unaccountable feeling
that Jaebum is smiling, not the tentative, cautious smile from the party, but a foolish, full-blown one.
He surprises himself with how much he wants to see it.
"Jinyoung," Jaebum says again, now an affirmation instead of a query, and Jinyoung is no longer in
any doubt that he's smiling. "Thank you --" Jaebum's voice breaks, thickening with an unreadable
emotion as he continues softly, "Thank you for calling."

"You can stop grinning creepily now," Jackson says when Jinyoung hangs up after ten minutes of
conversation that felt like ten lifetimes because of how much had changed in their span. And it feels
like everything has. Can this be the same world he lived in ten minutes ago, before he had spoken to
Jaebum, pretended to let himself reluctantly get talked into a date the next day at a restaurant in one
of the hotels owned by Jaebum's company? Jinyoung decides that it can't, that this might be an
extremely vivid and heavenly dream he is going to wake up from any moment now. No wonder he
feels like he's walking on clouds.

Jackson echoes his earlier remark cackling, and Jinyoung throws the phone at him.

"I thought you wouldn't call," Jaebum says the next day, his eyes somehow more intense than
possible over the vast distance of the carved ornate table across which they are sitting, in a private
dining room in the restaurant of the posh, fancy five-star hotel. That morning, a uniformed chauffer
driving a Mercedes had shown up outside Jinyoung's house, bowing respectfully as he opened the
door for him. He had not spoken a word all the way as Jinyoung fidgeted in the backseat,
increasingly nervous. When they had arrived outside the hotel lobby, two doormen rushed to open
the door for him and Jinyoung scrambled out ungracefully, unsettled by such servitude and thanking
them profusely. The chauffer gestured discreetly to Jinyoung to follow him and he did, acutely aware
of the unabashed opulence of the guests mingling at the reception, eyes widening like a bumpkin as
he spotted a few famous faces, celebrities and ministers.

When he saw Jaebum lounging on one of the maroon couches dotting the lobby, Jinyoung had
stopped in his tracks. Jaebum was distractedly flicking a burnished lighter open and closed, open and
closed. Today, he was again dressed from head to toe in designer labels, looking more casual than
before in a sleek navy blazer thrown over a simple white shirt with his inky black hair artfully tousled
but still dripping understated class. Jinyoung wondered if he had a personal stylist and decided that
he must have. It was humanly impossible for a businessman to have such impeccable taste.

Jinyoung thought he detected a slight tremor in Jaebum's fingers as he tipped a slender cigarette out
of an embossed case and lit it deftly. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and drew on it deeply. Time
seemed to slow down as Jinyoung took in the carelessness of Jaebum's tapered fingers tapping
embers into an ashtray. Those fingers looked nimble, dexterous in a way that unexplainably made
Jinyoung's face grow warm.

Then Jaebum looked up, seeming to sense his gaze, and jumped when he saw Jinyoung standing
there. He leaped to his feet, dropping the cigarette, which landed on his wrist. Jinyoung gasped as he
saw Jaebum grimace with surprise and pain and quickly dashed forward, grabbing his hand and
cradling it in his own. "Is your hand okay?" he breathed, but Jaebum snatched it away as though
stung, eyes widening at Jinyoung's proximity as he frantically backed away. "Y-yeah," he mumbled,
stubbing out the cigarette which had fallen on the ground with the heel of his shoe. Jinyoung hastily
edged away too, humiliated by Jaebum's rejection, but he could see a faint blush creeping up
Jaebum's ears. "Are you hurt?" Jinyoung blurted out, wanting to approach and get a closer look at
Jaebum's injury but not daring to.

"No," Jaebum said shortly, and Jinyoung thought he heard him mutter under his breath, "Only my
pride."

The heels of Jaebum's polished leather shoes clicked across the sparkling linoleum of the lobby as he
strode briskly towards the restaurant, his hand a light pressure on the small of Jinyoung's back. As
they made their way, a few passing foreign dignitaries nodded in recognition to Jaebum, offering
gracious smiles, and Jinyoung hurriedly bowed back starstruck, but Jaebum barely spared them a
glance, his eyes never leaving Jinyoung. It felt overwhelming to be the center of Jaebum's undivided
attention, and Jinyoung avoided his piercing gaze as he matched his pace to Jaebum's, feeling shabby
and humbled in the face of Jaebum's effortless sophistication.

The private dining room turns out to be an unnecessary gesture, as Jaebum has already reserved all
the tables in the restaurant. It's needlessly extravagant, almost flamboyantly excessive, but Jinyoung
is already learning that this is a trademark of Jaebum's moves. When he does something, he either
does it in a big way, or doesn't do it at all. Jinyoung isn't certain what this overreaching nature of
going all out bodes for them, but he feels a faint current of unease in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, well," Jinyoung shrugs offhandedly now, in response to Jaebum's statement. "You told me to,"
he says lamely.

Jaebum's eyes gleam inscrutably. "I did," he concurs. "But I never imagined --" he stops and shakes
his head in disbelief, then smiles softly. "I was waiting."

Although Jinyoung skeptically finds it difficult to picture a busy, successful person like Jaebum
sitting by the phone like him, hoping and wishing for Jinyoung's call, it's undeniably flattering and
touching that Jaebum's words had not been just a throwaway gesture. But Jinyoung is careful not to
flatter himself too much, to let the heady rush of Jaebum's attention get to his head. He is aware that
Jaebum's only aim is to get into his pants, that he is the kind of person who loses interest in the chase
after the conquest, that Jinyoung is only intriguing to him because he's a challenge. But despite
knowing better, Jinyoung still finds himself caught in the thrall of Jaebum's crooked smile, the
promise in his dark eyes. So he merely lets his lips curl into a restrained, noncommital smile, and
pretends not to see the way Jaebum's face falls.

They peruse the menus in rather stilted silence, and after a few minutes Jaebum clicks his fingers,
bringing the hostess hurrying in at once and decisively orders in low, fluent English. The maitre'd
bows reverentially and moves on to Jinyoung, who orders in halting English. "We'll have a 1996
Bordeaux too," Jaebum adds as an afterthought as she glides out of the room, closing the door.

When she is gone, Jaebum eyes Jinyoung speculatively. "Your English isn't bad," he says, looking
impressed as he twists a signet ring on his index finger idly, and Jinyoung is again drawn to the
hypnotic breadth of his knuckles, the leashed strength of his hands.

"Jackson taught me a bit. He's from Hong Kong." Jinyoung ducks his head modestly, and when
Jaebum doesn't reply Jinyoung looks up to see his forehead creased in displeasure.

"You guys seem close," Jaebum finally observes cryptically.

"We're best friends," Jinyoung replies easily, not expecting the impact his thoughtless words have on
Jaebum, who leans forward, eyes burning into his. "Is that all?" he says, voice distinctly more chilly.

Jinyoung swallows, discomfited. "O-of course!" he blurts out too quickly, feeling his own anger
bubble up as well. Who is Jaebum to interrogate him like this? "We live together too," he adds
casually, defiantly, enjoying the way Jaebum's jaw tightens. But his stomach clenches coldly as those
refined fingers he had been observing curl into fists on the table, Jaebum's knuckles paling. He
might've taken it a little too far.

"You live together," Jaebum repeats flatly.

Jinyoung nods hesitantly, wishing he could take back his words. How had the conversation taken
such a turn?

"Why?" Jaebum says quietly, barely audible, but at that moment Jinyoung is thankfully rescued by
the reentrance of the maitre'd bearing a bottle of richly scarlet wine which she pours with a flourish
into crystal glasses. Jinyoung takes a long gulp of his and it slides down his throat too fast, cold and
smooth, crisply sweet with delightful champagne grape notes. If nothing else, Jinyoung has to admit
that Jaebum is a connoisseur of wines.

Jaebum takes an equally lengthy pull on his drink, turning to the side and Jinyoung catches a glimpse
of the strikingly chiseled lines of his profile, the aquiline nose and prominent Adam's apple bobbing
in the smooth curve of his neck as he swallows. Jaebum turns, catching him staring and his eyes flare
with surprise. Jinyoung hurriedly drops his gaze. He doesn't know how to answer the question
Jaebum just broached and hopes that Jaebum has forgotten about it.

They finish the rest of the meal in companionable if slightly loaded silence, and Jinyoung savours the
explosion of flavours in his mouth, sumptuous Western-Korean fusion cuisine with names he can't
even wrap his tongue around. After a sinfully sweet dessert of rum and raisin ice cream and Kahlua
truffles, he feels blissfully bloated and just the tiniest bit inebriated. What was the alcohol content of
those truffles anyway? Jinyoung should've mentioned that he was kind of a lightweight when it came
to holding his liquor.

Jinyoung dabs clumsily at his lips and scrunches up his napkin, rising unsteadily to his feet. He
wobbles slightly, grabbing the chair for balance and in an instant Jaebum is by his side, looking
solicitous. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Jinyoung exclaims too loudly, shaking off Jaebum's hands. He repeats it again, a little
softer.

Jaebum turns away from him, and it takes a minute for Jinyoung to realize that he's trying to hide his
laughter.

"Im Jaebum!" Jinyoung sputters, outraged. "Are you laughing at me right now?"

Jinyoung turns to face him, rearranging his face solemnly, but his eyes are bright with mischief, his
face flushed with supressed laughter. For a heartbeat, this unexpected boyishness takes Jinyoung's
breath away.

So. There it is. Jaebum is actually really, really cute when he smiles. How could he not have known?
Jinyoung curses softly.
"What did you say?" Jaebum says, looking startled.

"I said you're fucking adorable!" Jinyoung says loudly, the words ringing into the silence and
hanging there between them for a heart-lurching beat, two.

Then Jaebum's face is just an inch from his, his eyes millimetres away, and up close Jinyoung feels
like he could fall into their inexorable depths like quicksand and never find his way out. And
Jaebum's lips are on his, soft and warm, moistened by the red wine, sweeter than sugar. Jinyoung's
mouth is slack against his at first, taken by surprise, but his lips part inadvertently as Jaebum runs an
insistent tongue along the seam, sliding confidently into his mouth and brushing his tongue daringly.
Jaebum's strong arms come up reassuringly behind his back to catch him as Jinyoung's knees give,
his eyelashes fluttering closed as he surrenders to the relentless probing of Jaebum's tongue and the
delicious pressure of his mouth clamped over Jinyoung's, breathing him in, breathing for him.

It occurs to Jinyoung somewhere in the back of his mind that maybe this was what Jaebum had
intended, to get him woozy and drugged, pliant and unresisting. Maybe Jaebum is more
unscrupulous than Jinyoung had given him credit for. But Jinyoung can't exactly claim to be an
unwilling victim, either as Jaebum backs Jinyoung against the wall and presses his hard body into the
length of Jinyoung's, his erection throbbing unmistakably against Jinyoung's crotch. Things are
suddenly moving too fast, too dangerously.

But contrary to Jinyoung's worst suspicions, Jaebum does not take advantage of his helpless state and
haul him uncomplaining to a hotel room. Jinyoung can't help feeling a little disappointed,
anticlimactic. In all honesty, the idea of Jaebum pressing him into the immense, downy bed of a
magnificent suite and making achingly slow love to him hadn't been completely unattractive.

Nevertheless, it is with a great effort of willpower that Jaebum manages to stop himself from
devouring Jinyoung completely, and he makes this clear to Jinyoung by the breath coming in jerky,
laboured pants in Jinyoung's ear, the immovable iron of his hands spanning Jinyoung's ass,
imprinting their shape into his skin as he pins Jinyoung firmly to the wall with his hips and grinds
sloppily against Jinyoung's own hard, bursting cock, sinking his teeth into the skin of Jinyoung's
shoulder to muffle his groans. Jinyoung ruts against him, rocking his hips in a rhythm that is all
senseless, carnal want and no logic or self-preservation. He comes first in his underwear, a viscous
rush of wetness and Jaebum's thrusts grow more urgent until he finally convulses and grows limp
against Jinyoung's body, his weight leaning heavily on Jinyoung. Jinyoung holds him steady and
runs a soothing hand over Jaebum's matted hair. His forehead is damp with sweat, his eyes closed
and breaths still coming in harsh, shallow spurts, warm on Jinyoung's shoulder. Unbidden, Jinyoung
feels a fierce rush of protectiveness for this unpredictable, enigmatic man, who has only expressed
himself in awkward clumsiness so far but whose eyes seem to promise great reserves of warmth.

As Jinyoung brushes Jaebum's hair back with tentative fingers, Jaebum's arms come up behind him
and settle on his back, fitting into the contours of his torso like they were designed to align right
there. Jinyoung can't stifle a sigh of contentment as he nestles closer into Jaebum's body, inhaling his
scent so deeply that it makes his head spin.

"Jinyoung-ah," Jaebum murmurs beside his ear, pulling back a little to gaze into Jinyoung's eyes, and
the intimacy, the familiarity of the three syllables makes the backs of Jinyoung's eyes prickle
inexplicably. Jaebum is looking down at him with such wonder, such tenderness, that Jinyoung can
barely stand the proximity. Nervously, he stiffens and tries to squirm out of Jaebum's embrace, but
then Jaebum stills him effortlessly with the simple gesture of the briefest kiss pressed to the crown of
Jinyoung's head.

After they have straightened out each other's clothes, Jinyoung's hands lingering fondly on Jaebum's
lapels, Jaebum laces their fingers together, interlocking them. Jinyoung swivels to look at him in
alarm and Jaebum is glancing apprehensively at him, as if wordlessly asking if it's okay. Jinyoung
blushes and bites back a smile, but doesn't pull his hand away.

Jaebum's hand is warm, callused but smooth, encompassing Jinyoung's reassuringly as he leads
Jinyoung purposefully out of the restaurant and across the hotel lobby, never letting go or loosening
his grip even once. He only releases it when they walk through the revolving doors onto the foyer of
the hotel and a ostentatious Ferrari convertible, fire-engine red, glides to a halt before them. A valet
climbs out from the driver's seat and deferentially offers Jaebum the keys. Jaebum smiles and slips a
generous tip into his hand.

Jinyoung is unable to conceal his admiration, a low whistle escaping his teeth as he runs awed
fingers over the spotless chrome exterior reflecting sunbeams. When he turns, Jaebum is peeking at
him through his eyelashes, looking like a kid anxious for approval. When Jinyoung pronounces,
"Sweet ride," his entire face lights up. "Wait till you see how this baby moves," he brags, opening
the passenger door with an exaggerated flourish.

Jinyoung climbs in, bemused. "You call your car baby?"

Jaebum crosses over to the driver's side and slides in with practiced grace. "She's my girl," he winks
lasciviously at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung's chest clenches without warning. "Do you... do you have a girlfriend?" he spits out as
Jaebum revs up the engine and settles his hands on the stick shift and wheel, forehead furrowed in
concentration.

Immediately, Jaebum stops everything to look up, meeting Jinyoung's eyes straight on. His eyes are
serious, reproachful with a hint of teasing. "If I did," he says, lifting Jinyoung's chin with a gentle
finger, "do you think I'd be here with you?"

Somewhere along the journey, Jaebum's hand creeps from the gearshift to rest proprietarily on
Jinyoung's knee, his thumb stroking idly over Jinyoung's inner thigh. Jinyoung plays it cool and
pretends not to notice, pretends he's not a quivering mess of jelly inside and Jaebum acts equally
unconcerned, removing his hand after what feels like a tiny lifetime without any acknowledgement
of his action.

"We're here," he says simply, smiling slightly as he uncoils his long body from the car and hurries
attentively to Jinyoung's side. Jinyoung steps out of the car a little unsteadily, Jaebum's hand on his
elbow anchoring him, the warmth emanating from his sturdy frame behind Jinyoung's back giving
him a surge of security. Jinyoung cranes his neck to take in the villa sprawled before him, so big it
could easily fit three of his apartments inside.

"You live here? Alone?" he murmurs in disbelief, and Jaebum smiles self-deprecatingly. "This is my
summer house. I usually stay in an apartment near the office the rest of the time."

His summer house. Jinyoung swallows as he digests the words. Why has Jaebum brought him here,
other than to carry out an elaborate plan of seduction that would end in Jinyoung capitulating and
giving up his chastity? He feels the burden of pressure, of not being able to live up to Jaebum's
expectations. Maybe he had overestimated himself when he thought he could match Jaebum at his
game.

Jaebum seems to sense his reservations, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he says softly,
smiling irresistibly at Jinyoung, "let's just chill and have fun, okay? No pressure."

It appears that those are the words Jinyoung has been subconsciously waiting to hear, because he
instantly relaxes, the tension seeping out of his body. The cozy timbre of Jaebum's voice makes him
feel like he's in good hands, like Jaebum will never do anything to hurt him. So Jinyoung takes a
deep breath and beams back at Jaebum, slipping his hand trustingly into Jaebum's and following him
over the threshold.

True to Jaebum's word, his house is the perfect place to have fun in summer, and even though fall is
just beginning, they manage to make the most of the facilities. Since the weather is too chilly for
swimming trunks, they change into more comfortable beachwear before heading to the pool at the
back of the house to sunbathe. The water is an undisturbed, chlorine blue with not a single ripple, so
clear Jinyoung can see right to the sun's heptagonal shadows dancing over the bottom.

He laughs till his stomach hurts as he watches Jaebum cannonball into the pool from the diving
board, catapulting into the aqua with a majestic splash and drenching Jinyoung who is sitting by the
poolside and dipping his feet in the water in Jaebum's Bermudas, which hang low on his hips and
billow over his knees. Jaebum's eyes run over his wet body with frank admiration, and Jinyoung
splashes water at his roguish, taunting grin and shivers.

"You cold?" Jaebum calls, treading water.

When Jinyoung's teeth chatter in reply, he swims over with swift strokes and sinks into the water,
blowing bubbles through his nose. A hand closes around Jinyoung's ankle and before he can yell
Jaebum has dragged him into the water with a resounding splash, breaking the surface laughing and
sputtering, shaking drops off his hair like a dog.

Jinyoung pretends to make a big fuss, pouting and glaring at Jaebum, but secretly sneaks glances at
the carefree grin that splits Jaebum's face, his deep laugh reverberating in Jinyoung's ears and
sending thrills down his spine.

Jinyoung floats on his back, letting himself grow weightless and gazing up towards the vast, endless
expanse of crystal blue sky. At this very moment, lying in Jaebum's pool with Jaebum floating
languidly beside him, counting the droplets of water starring Jaebum's eyelashes, Jinyoung feels
perfectly, heartbreakingly happy. If only they could remain together forever, in this tiny fraction of
eternity.

Sometime later, the midday sun beating down and caressing Jinyoung's face, the water lapping at his
ears lulls him into a shallow doze. He wakes up to find himself no longer in the pool but lying on one
of the deck chairs by the edge, under an umbrella. He sits up and looks around him, bewildered.

Jaebum emerges from the house carrying a bubbly orange drink with a cute little umbrella inside too,
lips curling into a smile when he sees Jinyoung awake. "It's dangerous to fall asleep in the pool," he
chides teasingly. "Luckily a knight in shining armour rescued you."
Jinyoung blinks. "You carried me here?" he says hoarsely, and his embarrassment seems to be
contagious because Jaebum lowers his gaze with an honestly adorable, bashful smile. Jinyoung is
suddenly, painfully aware that Jaebum is topless except for a towel slung precariously low on his
hips, exposing the defined lines of his abdomen and hipbones, the trail of dark hair leading from his
taut, ripped stomach down to his pelvis... Jinyoung takes a huge gulp of his drink and promptly
chokes.

"Are you okay?" Jaebum demands in alarm, patting Jinyoung's bare back. Even after Jinyoung stops
coughing, his hand stays on Jinyoung's shoulderblade, feverishly hot against his cool skin.

"Yeah," Jaebum mumbles, and Jinyoung squints up at him. "I mean yes, I carried you here," Jaebum
clarifies. He abruptly removes his hand from Jinyoung's back, turning to leave. Jinyoung watches the
shift of muscles beneath the tanned skin of his back longingly, his hand reaching out involuntarily to
fondle it.

Jaebum swivels around sharply with a loud intake of breath. "What are you doing?" he says, voice
hard, and Jinyoung recoils quickly. "I-- I-- sorry," he says lamely, chastised by Jaebum's second
rejection.

"Jinyoungie," Jaebum breathes, his eyes softening but remaining wary. "I don't want to do anything
you don't want. But why are you tormenting me?" His voice is anguished, and when he turns back
again Jinyoung's breath catches in his throat at the raging erection visible through Jaebum's towel, the
way his pupils are dilated, his narrow eyes blown almost pitch black.

Jaebum grabs Jinyoung's hand roughly and presses it against his crotch, hard. He sighs at the friction
of Jinyoung's hand chafing against the thin fabric, eyelashes fluttering closed and Jinyoung can feel
the pulsing heat of his cock as if it's flush against his hand. His own cock twitches hungrily in his
pants.

When he pulls away, Jaebum's eyes fly open, looking distressed and remorseful. "Sorry," he mutters,
voice rough as sandpaper. "I can take care of this myself if you don't..." His voice trails away
hopefully, and Jinyoung can hear his breathing still coming in uneven, irregular spurts.

A moan escapes Jaebum's mouth, part surprise, part desire as Jinyoung reaches out to press the heel
of his palm against his cock, sinking to his knees in front of Jaebum and undoing the knotted towel
with deft fingers. Tentatively, he laps at the tip of Jaebum's erect cock with his tongue, earning a
tortured groan and Jaebum's hand closing over the back of his head, his fingers twisting in Jinyoung's
hair. "M-more," Jaebum pants.

Jinyoung smiles and slowly, carefully takes Jaebum's cock into his mouth, inch by inch. When the
head hits the back of Jinyoung's throat, he resists the urge to gag and swallows instead, wrapping his
fingers around the base of Jaebum's cock to hold himself steady. By now, Jaebum is uttering
unintelligible oaths under his breath, thrusting uncontrollably into the warmth of Jinyoung's mouth.
Jinyoung flattens his tongue against the shaft of Jaebum's cock and sucks him to shuddering orgasm.

The tension rolls off Jaebum's body in waves as he sways bonelessly on his feet, bracing his hands
on Jinyoung's shoulders to regain his balance. Jinyoung waits until Jaebum's breathing finally slows
and grows measured, before relinquishing his support on Jaebum's body. He stands up, grinning
impishly at Jaebum and licking his lips, and the smile that takes over Jaebum's face transforms it
heart-stoppingly. Without a word, he lifts Jinyoung easily off his feet and sweeps him into his arms,
carrying him into the house and up the staircase to the bathroom.

Jinyoung messes with the faucet, filling the massive claw-footed ceramic tub with hot water as
Jaebum opens the cupboards, hunting for the bath salts. "Found it!" he announces truimphantly,
opening the bottle and sprinkling the contents liberally in the almost full tub. "That's enough!"
Jinyoung grabs his hand doubtfully, but Jaebum only laughs with unfettered glee, seizing another
bottle and upending it.

"Yah!" Jinyoung yells with his hands on his hips, struggling between exasperation and laughter. "I'm
not getting in there," he threatens, and Jaebum cowers and obediently stops adding salts. Instead, he
produces a box of pastel-coloured flower petals which he scatters over the water, tinging the steam
rising from the now-full tub with a lovely fragrance.

Jinyoung takes an appreciative whiff. "What's that?"

Jaebum smiles, advancing towards him. "Jasmine," he says, brushing a slow seductive finger across
Jinyoung's cheek. Jinyoung doesn't struggle as Jaebum gathers him into his arms again and lowers
him into the tub, water sloshing over the sides. He giggles. "Aren't you coming in?"

"Nah, I'll just watch you and jerk off over there," Jaebum points to the toilet bowl and says straight-
faced.

"Are you serious?" Jinyoung stifles a howl of laughter.

Jaebum breaks into a broad, merciless grin. "Yeah, right," he gurgles with laughter, jumping into the
tub like a ten-year-old and splashing water everywhere.

"Oh my god," Jinyoung splutters, rubbing water out of his eyes. "You're insufferable."

Jaebum only cackles evilly and wrestles Jinyoung below him.

Much later, they sit in the now half-empty tub, Jinyoung sitting between Jaebum's legs and reclining
against his chest. Spooning. Jinyoung has never had the chance to be someone's little spoon, and it's
an enormously warm feeling, a glow spreading from his chest throughout his body as Jaebum rubs
concentric circles into Jinyoung's back with his palm. Their hands and toes are wrinkled and pruny
from a day in the water, but both of them are too lazy to get out. They've had three rounds of
exhausting, mind-blowing non-penetrative sex in various positions today, but all of that fades into the
shadow of Jaebum's voice dripping with honey as he croons wordless endearments into Jinyoung's
ear, the way Jinyoung has this unaccountable feeling that he's known Jaebum for far longer than two
days, maybe two lifetimes. There is no rhyme or reason he should feel so at home in Jaebum's arms,
when he knows close to nothing about him. But Jinyoung does.

It's been an unforgettable day, one of the most euphoric days of Jinyoung's life. He knows that
Jaebum had brought him to his house on a carefully calculated quest to woo him, impress him with
material comforts and dazzling luxuries. And Jinyoung had played right into his ruse, bought it hook
line and sinker. But it doesn't bother him as much as it should, and Jinyoung knows he should
probably be wondering why.

"Jaebum-sshi," he murmurs, and Jaebum opens an eye to look at him. "Mmm?"

Why me? Jinyoung wants to ask. Jaebum is obscenely rich, lacking for nothing, stunningly
handsome and eligible. He could have anyone he wanted. What had he seen in ordinary, nondescript
Jinyoung?

But before he can find a way to put these convoluted, confusing questions into words, Jaebum
interrupts, "Call me hyung."

"What?" Jinyoung says, startled.

Jaebum traces a slow finger down Jinyoung's chest, scraping the sensitive nub of his nipple with a
fingernail and drawing a whimper. "What's with the Jaebum-sshi?" His shoulders shake with mirth.
"Call me hyung."

Jinyoung stammers, flustered. "H-hyung," he mumbles reluctantly.

"I can't hear you," Jaebum says patiently, grazing his teeth over Jinyoung's clavicles.

"Hyung!" Jinyoung whines. "Jaebum-hyung," and feels the curve of Jaebum's smile pressed into his
neck.

Jinyoung spends that night in Jaebum's bed, Jaebum's soft snores lulling him into slumber, his head
pillowed on Jaebum's bicep. The next morning, Jaebum drops him off on his way to work. His eyes
are hidden behind sunglasses today and he doesn't face Jinyoung, gazing blankly out of the window
over the whitecaps of the sea beyond the freeway. He has opened the top of the convertible and the
wind ruffles his hair hopelessly, making him look so wildly beautiful that Jinyoung feels a pang in
his chest. Maybe Jaebum just isn't a morning person, which would explain his gruff silence and
frosty aloofness since Jinyoung woke up alone in bed. Jinyoung doesn't want to think of any other
reason.

He creeps into the house, tiptoeing to his room with his shoes in his hands but Jackson scares the shit
out of him by flinging open his door as he passes and shrieking, "Gotcha!"

Jinyoung resists the urge to clobber him with the shoes and calms his racing heart. "What the --"

"Did you get laid?" Jackson crows so loudly the whole neighbourhood can hear, and Jinyoung
hastily shushes him. Jaebum is barely down the street.

On the first day after that, Jinyoung carries his phone around with him the entire day, even when he's
peeing and showering, beaming beatifically at it with excited trepidation. It doesn't ring and he
frowns that night as he checks the battery and wonders if there's some glitch.

On the second day, he alternates between glaring at his phone and checking it obssessively for
messages or missed calls.

On the third day, Jinyoung spends all his waking moments resisting the urge to call or text Jaebum
with all his might. It literally takes everything short of Jackson tying him up to stop him from sending
an accusing, needy text. Luckily, Jackson saves him from eternal humiliation by confiscating his
phone.
By the fourth day, Jinyoung has given up hope. He is furious -- at Jaebum for toying with his
feelings, at himself for waiting like a moron for a call that wasn't coming. It was obvious that Jaebum
had long forgotten him, that the only one that day had meant anything to was him.

On the fifth day, Jinyoung takes the day off from fencing practice, too heartbroken to rouse himself
from bed. Jackson supportively plays hooky with him and spends the day spooning melted ice cream
into Jinyoung's mouth and passing him tissues as they marathon tearjerking Korean soap operas.

Jinyoung moves on with his life. He forgets Jaebum, or at least, tries to. Very hard. Unsuccessfully.
It's ludicrous because he had only spent a day with Jaebum, but it had magnified in such proportions
in Jinyoung's memory, burned behind his retinas, the images playing in a ceaseless loop on the back
of his eyelids. He tells himself that Jaebum is merely a lowlife jerk who just happens to be slightly
more aesthetically pleasing than most people. He's not worth Jinyoung's tears. But his heart seems to
have a mind of its own.

Three weeks after that fateful first and last date, Jinyoung is stuffing his sweaty clothes into his duffel
after practice when an unfamiliar number flashes across his phone display. His heart leaps into his
throat as he reads and rereads the number. It can't be -- can it?

Before Jinyoung can snap out of his daze and hit the answer button with a shaking finger, the phone
stops ringing. It vibrates twice and lights up with a pop-up notification of one missed call and
Jinyoung stares saucer-eyed at the now ominously silent phone lying on the table as if it's catatonic.
He sits there, frozen, for what might have been minutes or a lifetime until Jackson bangs open the
door of the changing room and plops down beside him on the bench.

"Who died?" he jokes, seeing Jinyoung's ashen face, and Jinyoung swats him halfheartedly and
buries his phone in his bag.

Deep in thought, he doesn't see the flashy car parked on the sidewalk outside their apartment until
Jackson grinds his motorcycle to a halt and peels off his helmet, eyes popping. Jinyoung follows the
direction of his gaze with a sinking feeling, not daring to believe his eyes until Jaebum is loping over
and standing in front of them in the flesh, his narrowed eyes taking in Jinyoung sitting pillion astride
the motorcycle, knees locked around Jackson's waist.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" he demands without preamble. Jinyoung swallows. He had
called more than once?

"I... I was busy," he hedges, evading Jaebum's eyes and clambering awkwardly off the motorcycle.
Jackson turns off the engine and disembarks too, but Jaebum pointedly ignores him as he grabs
Jinyoung's elbow none too gently and says low, "Come with me."

"Hey, hey," Jackson says, moving forward to assert himself between them. "He said he doesn't want
to."

Jaebum's eyes flash menacingly as he finally acknowledges Jackson's presence. His hand tightens
over Jinyoung's elbow as he takes a step forward too, his chest almost bumping Jackson's. "Did
you?" he addresses Jinyoung, eyes piercing like lasers into his own, daring him to utter the
affirmative.

Jackson's face darkens with challenge and his hands come up to grab Jaebum's lapels, and Jinyoung
hurriedly bursts out, "I'll come!"

This gets their attention. "What?" Jackson turns to blink at him, dumbfounded.

"I'll come, okay?" Jinyoung growls. "Don't get your panties in a twist. Jackson-ah, go home first," he
commands firmly, and Jackson opens his mouth to argue but Jinyoung pushes him towards the door.
"Go," he says more lightly. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Jaebum looks disappointed by the words but doesn't say anything, and Jackson reluctantly backs
away. "If you're not back in a few minutes, I'll come get you," he threatens before finally
disappearing into the lobby of their apartment.

Jaebum still hasn't let go of his arm. "Get into the car," he says in that authoritative tone he's been
taking since the start. It really is incredibly irksome and Jinyoung rolls his eyes rebelliously,
regretting the day he ever got involved with such a high-maintenance control freak.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Jaebum says incredulously, scowling at him, and Jinyoung
doesn't dignify that with an answer, instead pulling open the passenger seat door and slumping inside
with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes staring unsmilingly at the road.

Jaebum gets into the driver's seat, slamming the door too. Before he places his hand on the gear, he
looks over at Jinyoung, eyes softening in concern. Before Jinyoung knows what's happening,
Jaebum is leaning over him to pull his seatbelt on, clicking it into place. Jinyoung's breathing hitches
at the sudden proximity of Jaebum's cheek, so close Jinyoung is sure Jaebum can feel his breath
warm on his skin. Up close, Jaebum's skin is enviably unblemished, practically poreless, wisps of
hair falling over his ears and curling at the nape of his neck. It really is the most indescribable shade
of pitch black, even more so than the midnight sky. Jinyoung notices that he's sporting a single
piercing on his earlobe, a dull silver spike.

When Jaebum turns, their lips are mere centimetres apart, not touching but just barely, a single breath
away. It would be too easy to lean forward accidentally on purpose and seal their mouths over their
already intermingling breaths. Jinyoung remembers with a pang of startling longing how Jaebum
tastes, like expensive menthol cigars and bitter sweet brandy.

But then Jaebum jerks away and clears his throat, moving his hands to fasten his own seatbelt and
settle on the wheel. He doesn't meet Jinyoung's eyes but Jinyoung thinks he can see a curious
reddening of the tips of his ears.

"What do you want?" he blurts brusquely to fill the opaque tension in the car.

Jaebum floors the accelerator and deftly merges the car into traffic. Jinyoung tries not to look at his
ringed hands on the wheel, blood rushing to his face when he thinks of the places of his body they've
been.

Jaebum looks flustered by his direct question. After a pause, he repeats, "Why didn't you answer my
calls?" but this time he sounds softer, more uncertain, as if he genuinely wants to know the answer.

Jaebum flips his hair out of his eyes and tries not to waver. "Because I didn't want to," he says
shortly.

Jaebum's knuckles pale imperceptibly around the steering wheel. "Why not?" he says quietly, and
Jinyoung vaguely registers a note of anger.

"Because you're an asshole," he retorts, holding his ground. He's not going to back down or play
useless games. There's too much at stake to. "Why didn't you call me for a month?"
He's aware of how clingy the question sounds, his voice shrill and reedy, but the words can't be
taken back, and hang in the air between them like a gauntlet thrown.

There is a pregnant, neverending pause in which Jinyoung wishes a hole in the ground would open
up and swallow him. Finally, mercifully, Jaebum replies. "Three weeks," he corrects softly.

Jinyoung exhales loudly in frustration. "Is there a difference?" he says frostily. "Whatever. I'm done.
Drop me up ahead at the station."

"Wait!" Jaebum says sharply, stopping Jinyoung's hand on the door handle. "Hear me out," he says,
voice changing, turning pleading... desperate. "Please."

"My ears are open," Jinyoung snaps to disguise the way his heart melts a little at Jaebum's
unnervingly puppylike eyes. They light up warily with hope, and Jaebum takes a deep breath and
mumbles contritely, "I'm sorry. I was on a business trip."

Jinyoung's mouth drops open. Of all the excuses Jaebum could have given, he hadn't expected this.
It's... not unbelievable, to say the least. Jinyoung hates the tidal wave of relief coursing through his
veins and doesn't allow his wavering resolve to show on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he fires back unforgivingly.

Jaebum looks frustrated, yanking back the gearshift. "It was our first date, for God's sake. I didn't
want to come on too strong and scare you away. I didn't know if you wanted to see me again and I...
I was more affected by that day than I thought I'd be. Jinyoung-ah, try to understand me. I was upset
and not thinking straight and fighting the urge to just kidnap you and lock you up in my apartment."

The words knock the breath out of Jinyoung. It's the longest sentence Jaebum has strung together
since they met, and the pallor of Jaebum's face indicates that it wasn't an easy feat for him. It's way
too much to process all at once and Jinyoung doesn't want to believe him but he can't help himself.
There is something so appealingly honest, so imperative about Jaebum's eyes that pierces straight to
Jinyoung's heart.

Jaebum inhales softly, seeming to compose himself and after a few seconds his posture relaxes, a
rakish smile spreading over his face. "I'm a very important man, you know," he murmurs, as if
emboldened by Jinyoung's silence. "I wish I didn't have to go, but it would've cost the company
losses of multi-millions."

Jinyoung snorts. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" he lifts an eyebrow, and Jaebum deflates a bit.
But then his face lights up like a child's as he apparently remembers something. "I got you a present,"
he says bashfully, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his closed fist eagerly. When he opens
it, Jinyoung gasps to see a miniature porcelain figurine of a cow, spotted and china blue, small
enough to fit into the nest of Jaebum's palm.

"It's precious," he breathes, running a finger over the cool fragile body. Jaebum laughs, deep and
musical, bubbling from his lips. "It reminded me of you."

Jinyoung gapes at him. "... I remind you of a cow?" He feels hysterical laughter rising irrepressibly
from his throat and struggles to contain it, failing miserably. Soon, he's wheezing for air and wiping a
tear from his eyes. He hopes Jaebum can't tell how touched he is by the ridiculous gift.

But Jaebum is laughing too, giggling uncharacteristically like an adolescent boy and protesting, "I
didn't mean it that way!" and suddenly all the angst of the past few weeks seems senseless and all but
forgotten. They laugh until they're too exhausted to, the laughter dying away into a mildly awkward
silence as they try to regulate their breathing. An easy, smug smile plays at the edges of Jaebum's lips
and it kind of simultaneously makes Jinyoung want to slap him and kiss it off his face.

But what makes Jaebum truly drop his swagger and appear to lose his composure is when Jinyoung's
eyes fall on his wrist and detect the fading burn scar, small and faintly red. Impulsively, he reaches
out to pick up Jaebum's hand and lift it closer to study. "Does it still hurt?" he whispers, and Jaebum
swerves sharply to the road shoulder, his normally skilled driving growing shaky.

He flips his hand over, catching Jinyoung's in his palm and caressing his knuckles with the rough
pad of his thumb. When Jinyoung looks up, Jaebum's eyes are luminous with hope, questioning in
the hazy light of the moon. In answer, Jaebum inclines his head slightly, a smile creeping into his
eyes. "Kiss it better," he whispers huskily, and Jinyoung takes a tremulous breath as he raises
Jaebum's hand to his mouth, keeping his eyes on Jaebum's and brushing his knuckles with his lips
until Jaebum closes his eyes as if in pain, as if he can't bear to hold Jinyoung's gaze a second more.

Jinyoung lovingly wraps the tiny china cow in tissue and slides it into his pocket, where it presses
against his thigh like a little piece of Jaebum he can always carry with him. Jaebum watches the way
his eyes glow and how carefully he handles the trinket, his own eyes growing unbearably tender.
"It's just a stupid cheap souvenir," he says, voice rough. "You don't have to be so happy."

"Who said I'm happy?" Jinyoung lies through his teeth, mortified. Jaebum only shakes his head in
exasperation and places a hand on Jinyoung's knee, squeezing it. Jinyoung feels a current of
electricity spark from Jaebum's fingers up his thigh, going straight to his groin. Jaebum tears his eyes
from the road and looks straight at him, grinding the car to a halt. Jinyoung peers out of the window
to see that they've reached a stately, palatial apartment building. It seems inevitable now, like they've
been hurtling towards this destination the entire evening, even before they knew it. Jinyoung's eyes
glimmer in silent answer to the unspoken question in Jaebum's, and Jaebum's eyes darken
infinitesimally as he climbs out of the car to handle Jinyoung out.

Jaebum's penthouse apartment looks like a perfect replica of one of those showrooms from
architectural magazines, but the twinge of pity Jinyoung feels for him is more surprising. He has the
impulse to mess up Jaebum's minimalist, black-and-white lacquered kitchentop, cozy up the spacious
but vacant living room with a few throw pillows, pull up the corners of the tightly tucked cream
bedspread and ruffle them, paint the boring off-white walls a refreshing shade of cobalt. How must it
feel like to live in this spotless, imposing house day in and out? Jinyoung resolves to brighten up
Jaebum's bleakly beautiful home if it's the last thing Jaebum allows him to do for him.

"Make yourself at home," Jaebum says with a small smile as he drifts to the kitchen to open a bottle
of wine. Jinyoung flicks a switch, illuminating the living room with a muted pool of orange light
from the lamp and sinks down gingerly on the couch. His butt lands on something soft and a shrill
mewl makes him leap up.

A fluffy cat is curled up in a tight ball on the couch, hissing and meowing plaintively. Jinyoung
gasps, dropping to his knees to gently pick the cat up with adoration.

He's sitting on the couch giggling loosely, running his fingers through the cat's long hair and eliciting
contented, sleepy purrs when Jaebum walks in bearing glasses and a bottle of white wine. "Oh," he
says, looking surprised. "I see you've met Nora."

"You have a cat?" Jinyoung trills, bubbling over with excitement. "Why didn't you mention it?"

Jaebum chuckles. "I didn't know you liked cats."

"Are you kidding? I love them!" Jinyoung feigns outrage and Jaebum leans back to look at the both
of them, seeming inordinately pleased with the picture they form together.

He laughs, setting down the glasses on the coffee table and reaching out to ruffle Jinyoung's hair.
"You would. You're the same species, after all," he teases playfully.

"What do you mean?" Jinyoung squawks. "Are you saying that I'm a cat?"

Jaebum waves an apologetic hand, laughing too hard to speak. "You're my Jin-cat," he coos,
stroking Jinyoung's hair much like the way Jinyoung is stroking Nora. "Give your master a kiss,
now."

Jinyoung gives his proferred cheek a slobbery lick instead, but that only seems to delight Jaebum
more. "What am I going to do with the two of you?" he sighs in mock exasperation. "I deserve a cat-
lover medal, seriously."

Jinyoung harrumphs and pouts, turning away and pretending he doesn't feel like purring shamelessly
and nuzzling into Jaebum's warm touch like Nora. "Or maybe an award for pervert with a bestiality
fetish," he sniggers.

Jaebum's eyes glitter and the couch dips as he slides in next to Jinyoung, casually winding his arm
around his shoulder. "A kitty kink?" he whispers breathily in Jinyoung's ear, sending delicious chills
down his spine. "Sounds intriguing."

"That tickles," Jinyoung gurgles with laughter, squirming away, but Jaebum grabs both his shoulders
forcefully and tackles him down, pinning him to the couch with his weight as Nora obligingly slinks
out of Jinyoung's arms and wriggles onto the carpet, padding away soundlessly.

Jaebum's body is breathtakingly heavy and warm above his, the sinew of his muscles hard through
his dress shirt against Jinyoung's body. He cups Jinyoung's face with both hands, holding him steady
as his mouth covers Jinyoung's, taking away his oxygen. Jaebum's tongue is relentless and
demanding, sliding sensually against Jinyoung's as his thumbs caress Jinyoung's ears, finding the
sensitive spot behind the back of his earlobes. The kiss quickly turns heated as Jinyoung struggles
into a horizontal position, spreading his legs enthusiastically for Jaebum to settle between them, his
clothed erection nudging the cleft of Jinyoung's ass.

Jinyoung is all thumbs as he reaches out with clumsy, trembling fingers to fumble with Jaebum's belt
buckle. Jaebum seems amused by his ineptitude, peeking up at Jinyoung through his eyelashes as his
thin lips curve into a dreamy smile, which suddenly slips for no apparent reason.

"Don't do that," Jaebum snaps.

"Do what?" Jinyoung blinks innocently.

"Lick your lips," Jaebum murmurs, voice deepening.

"This?" Jinyoung flicks his tongue over his lips experimentally, wetting them and Jaebum exhales
sharply, his dark eyes gleaming with lust.
"That's against the rules," he says softly, but Jinyoung only laughs mischievously, slipping his
tongue out again to lick his lips salaciously and throwing in a saucy wink. Jaebum growls and
reaches down to undo the belt himself, successfully manipulated.

Jinyoung knows that Jaebum will be able to make him come with just his skilful fingers and mouth,
will be more than happy to, but today, this meagre contact no longer seems like enough. He wants to
feel the unbearably full, tight sensation of Jaebum inside him, sheathed to the hilt. He wants to see
Jaebum's expression when he loses control, hear him breathing Jinyoung's name like a benediction.
He wants to possess Jaebum totally and be totally possessed by him.

He stills Jaebum with a hand on his cheek, pointing wordlessly to the bedroom as he smiles coyly
and Jaebum's eyes widen as he infers Jinyoung's meaning. "Are you sure?" he rasps hoarsely, eyes
tight with worry.

Jinyoung nods, smile unflinching. "Positive."

Jaebum closes his eyes for a brief moment. When he opens them, they're blazing.

"No regrets," he warns, hoisting Jinyoung up into his arms and carrying him princess-style over the
threshold of his bedroom.

Jaebum lowers Jinyoung gently onto the soft down of the comforter, which yields and sinks under
his weight. He undresses Jinyoung as if he has all the time in the world, peeling off his socks and
unbuttoning Jinyoung's shirt to reveal the expanse of his collarbones. He divests Jinyoung of his
jeans, the back of his hand grazing Jinyoung's aching cock teasingly. Jinyoung stifles a gasp and the
urge to buck his hips into Jaebum's palm like a horny teenager. Jaebum drops a trail of featherlight
kisses down Jinyoung's torso, worshipping every part of his body with his lips, hot breath ghosting
over his skin as he mouths Jinyoung's cock through his boxers.

Then Jaebum leaves Jinyoung shivering in only his boxers and undresses himself just as slowly, as if
aware that Jinyoung is watching and salivating. Jaebum's suits don't quite do justice to the
breathtaking broadness of his shoulders that taper to a narrow waist, the play of corded muscles
beneath the coffee-coloured skin of his back, the lean plane of his stomach and washboard definition
of his abs. He really is the most beautiful specimen of a man Jinyoung has ever seen.

At Jinyoung's wistful sigh, Jaebum's eyes snap down to look at him, sweeping over his body with
dark intent. Clad in only his pants with the zipper undone to reveal a spot of precum dampening his
underwear, he moves swiftly to the bedside table and opens a drawer, producing a half-used tube of
lube.

Jinyoung cringes at the thought of the people Jaebum has used it on before him but quickly files it
away as Jaebum douses his fingers liberally and reaches into Jinyoung's boxers.

Jinyoung shivers at the coldness of the gel against his skin as Jaebum eases a digit in, clenching
tightly around him. "Relax," Jaebum soothes, "Breathe in and out." Jinyoung does, and on his exhale
Jaebum slides a second finger in.

Jinyoung moans softly at the indescribable, burning sensation of the stretch, Jaebum working his
slick fingers in knuckle deep and pressing against a spot that makes Jinyoung gasp in delight and
snap his hips down on Jaebum's fingers, fucking himself on them.
Jaebum squeezes his eyes shut as if Jinyoung is too risque to look at, his own hand moving to his
cock to stroke himself to relief but Jinyoung stops him by whimpering, "J-jaebum-hyung."

Jaebum's eyes open, pupils dilated to twice their usual size but voice none less patient. "Yes?"

"I-I want you," Jinyoung says, placing a hand on Jaebum's cock when he looks uncomprehending.
Jaebum makes a muffled noise in the back of his throat, his cock twitching hungrily under Jinyoung's
touch.

Bracing his arms over Jinyoung, Jaebum lowers his weight carefully onto him, their erections
brushing dizzyingly. Jinyoung feels bereft, empty without Jaebum's withdrawn fingers, his muscles
clenching over thin air but Jaebum quickly replaces the absence with his cock, sliding in agonizingly
slowly, filling Jinyoung inch by inch.

When Jaebum is completely in, he stills with an effort, hand reaching down to smooth Jinyoung's
matted bangs back and peer into his eyes with concern. "Are you okay?"

Jinyoung nods and grits out, "Move," tightening around him and Jaebum groans. The symphony his
fingers play over Jinyoung's skin is like an aphrodisiac, igniting his body and licking through his
veins, making his blood sing. Jaebum rears over Jinyoung, his densely muscled arms pumping like
pistons as he pounds into Jinyoung unrelentingly, splitting Jinyoung open with his cock. Jinyoung
arches his back to meet Jaebum's thrusts, their bodies colliding with the wet, slapping sounds of slick
skin against slick skin.

The next morning, Jinyoung wakes up before Jaebum, shivering as the covers slip off his bare torso
and pool about his waist. His body feels sticky with a mixture of drying sweat and fluids and foreign
with strange, unfamiliar sensations. When he sits up, a dull but not unpleasant ache shoots up his
lower body. It's ridiculous and cliche but Jinyoung feels as if he's been reborn, his body anointed and
changed irrevocably by the memory of Jaebum's touch. He shudders at the vivid imprints of
Jaebum's fading touches and thrusts, his bruisingly gentle hands and cock pumping relentlessly into
Jinyoung, fucking him from the inside out.

His mouth feels swollen and abused, as used as his body and Jinyoung blushes when he tiptoes to
peer in the bathroom mirror. His lips are crimson and bee-stung, bleeding slightly at the corner where
Jaebum had gotten a little too excited and accidentally bit Jinyoung's lip. Jinyoung can feel Jaebum
on every part of his body, in every step he takes. He suddenly, passionately wishes that this sense
memory will be etched indelibly on him like a tattoo branded by a hot poker.

When he drifts back to bed, carelessly tugging a t-shirt on, Jaebum is still sleeping soundly and
peacefully, his face beatific and years younger with his eyes closed. Jinyoung smiles and resists the
urge to stroke the soft, smooth skin stretched over his cheekbones and the rougher prickle of stubble
on his jaw, tucking the covers over his shoulders.

It feels wrong seeing Jaebum's designer clothes strewn haphazardly over the floor, and Jinyoung
fights the compulsion to smooth them out and hang them neatly on hangers. He wouldn't know how
to explain if Jaebum woke up later and asked why. Instead, his hand lands on the thick, old-
fashioned gold Oyster Rolex lying on the bedside table. Jinyoung picks it up tentatively, its heft
surprisingly heavy in his palm. He supposes that's the mark of pure gold, not that he would know.
He lifts it to his ear and listens to the soothing, hypnotic tick tick tick of the watch's hands.
Jinyoung slips the watch over his wrist and admires it. It's slightly too big, the strap hanging loosely
over his arm. The watch is inordinately warm without the chilly hardness of metal, and wearing it
gives Jinyoung a comfortable sensation of security, remniscent of Jaebum's hand around his. For
some inexplicable reason that he will later be unable to figure out, Jinyoung slips the watch into the
pocket of his jeans, draped over the back of a chair.

He is distracted by Jaebum yawning awake behind him. He props his chin up on one elbow, the
corners of his lips lifting in a lazily aroused smile as he takes Jinyoung in. "Is that my shirt you're
wearing?" he says, voice gritty, and Jinyoung looks down and realizes it is. Jaebum sits up, lunging
for him, and Jinyoung shrieks and scampers away giggling, the watch temporarily forgotten.

Leaving the studio in the evening with the team, Jinyoung stops in his tracks to see a red Ferrari
parked conspicuously in front of the main entrance of the building. His teammates stare and murmur
with interest, admiring the car, and Jackson nudges him, frowning. "Isn't that the dick's car?"

Jinyoung elbows him. Jackson had spammed Jinyoung's cell phone with missed calls and rude
messages all night, but Jinyoung had turned it off, not wanting to provoke Jaebum further. When he
reached home in the morning, Jackson was standing by the front door with his hands on his hips,
blasting Jinyoung the moment he stepped in. Jinyoung barely managed to escape to his room with
Jackson yapping at his heels like a terrier making crude remarks and berating Jinyoung for not
keeping his promise of being right back after a few minutes. Luckily, after the day wore on and
Jinyoung had apologized no less than five times, Jackson had finally grown tired and let it rest.

As they approach the car, Jinyoung's heart thumps wildly in his chest, feeling first surprised then
flattered. They hadn't arranged to meet again today, and Jaebum hadn't texted or called him all day.
But maybe he had missed Jinyoung enough to want to see him twice.

The horn beeps, making Jinyoung jump. He bends to squint into the car and spots Jaebum sitting in
the driver's seat, making no move to get out and open the door for him as per normal. "Get in," is all
he says. His voice is emotionless, his eyes impassively staring straight ahead so Jinyoung can't tell his
mood.

Jinyoung looks apprehensively over his shoulder at Jackson, who folds his arms over his chest and
makes it clear by his disapproving frown that he's not getting involved. Jinyoung smiles
apologetically at him and gingerly tugs at the car door handle to slide into the passenger seat. Jaebum
keeps both hands clenched around the wheel and doesn't even spare him a glance. The moment
Jinyoung closes the door, he speeds off, leaving the rest of the team in a cloud of fumes.

Jaebum swerves onto the freeway, driving so recklessly that Jinyoung's hand moves unconsciously
to the overhead handle. Jaebum doesn't seem to care whether he's wearing his seatbelt this time but
he hastily clicks it on anyway, already beginning to regret getting in. It's getting obvious that
something has changed between morning, when Jaebum was smiling and devoted and indulgent, and
now, but Jinyoung can't figure out what. He doesn't remember doing anything that might have pissed
Jaebum off.

Jaebum pulls off at the next exit, swiveling the steering wheel so violently that the tires skid
perilously over the gravel, rubber squealing. He pulls into a deserted parking lot in a district Jinyoung
isn't familiar with and slams on the brake abruptly, throwing Jinyoung back against his seat and
knocking the breath out of him.
Jinyoung sits motionless for a few beats, shell-shocked and breathing hard. He has no idea why
Jaebum is so obviously seething and his stomach churns queasily with a current of ominous unease.
He unlocks the seatbelt with trembling hands and the click sounds deafeningly loud in the plunging
silence. The air in the car is thick enough to be cut with a knife and suddenly all Jinyoung wants is to
get out of here.

But just as his left hand closes around the door handle, a vicelike grip tightens around his right wrist.
Jinyoung inhales sharply and spins around to find Jaebum's eyes drilling into his, dark with a chilling
rage.

"Did you take my watch?" he says quietly.

"W-what?" Jinyoung squeaks, the question not making any sense for a moment. Then his heart
lurches as he recalls the morning's events, feeling the watch digging into his thigh through his jeans
pocket like a deadweight of guilt.

Jaebum is watching his face intently, and his thoughts must be transparent because Jaebum's face
changes, his lips tightening. "You took it," he states flatly, daring Jinyoung to deny.

Jinyoung tries to extract his hand but Jaebum's fingers lock painfully around his arm. "I... I..."
Jinyoung flounders, at a loss to how to start explaining. He reaches with difficulty into his pocket
with his left hand and fishes the watch out resignedly. "I'm sorry."

Jaebum's eyes flicker down to the watch lying in his palm, his face hardening. He stares at it for an
interminable moment before shaking his head slowly in disbelief. When he looks up again, Jinyoung
flinches at the contempt and scorn scrawled across his eyes.

"Keep it," he says dispassionately, finally letting go of Jinyoung's wrist, where welts are already
starting to bloom. He tears his eyes away from Jinyoung and stares hollowly out at the parking lot.

"What?" Jinyoung stammers shrilly. "I don't want it!" He tries to shove the watch into Jaebum's
palm, but Jaebum tosses his hand away as though scalded.

"Then why did you steal it?" he says accusingly, voice sharp and unforgiving as a blade. His tone
makes Jinyoung's face burn with shame -- dripping with condescension, something Jinyoung has
never thought he would hear from Jaebum of all people.

Hot, angry tears sting Jinyoung's eyes and blur his vision. He wants to rail at Jaebum, explain
himself, do something -- but he just stays mutely silent and hauls the car door open, climbing out as
fast as he can.

What hurts the most, though, is that Jaebum doesn't stop him.

Jackson is sitting on the couch waiting to pounce the moment Jinyoung slips soundlessly into the
house, hoping to slink to his bedroom without further confrontation. No such luck. His emotions
must be scrawled across his face because Jackson takes one look at him and says sharply, "You
cried?"

"No."

"Holy shit, you did. What happened? What did that dickhead do to you?"
It's the concern in Jackson's voice that undoes him. Despite his best efforts, a tear slips out of
Jinyoung's eyes. In a moment, Jackson is on his feet and looking ready for battle.

"I'm going to pulverize him," he says, voice low as he brushes past Jinyoung and toes on his shoes.

"No!" Jinyoung pleads, clutching Jackson's arm frantically. To be honest, in the light of Jaebum's
current mood, he's more worried about Jackson's safety, but he knows Jackson will take that as a slur
on his manhood.

"Let me go! I'll teach that douche a lesson."

"Please, don't. For me," Jinyoung begs pitifully, and sees Jackson softening against his will. He kicks
off his shoes but continues muttering darkly as he lets Jinyoung drag him back to the couch. "Then
tell me what he did."

Something in Jackson's gruffly caring tone loosens the stopper, and the unaired grievances tumble
out of Jinyoung's mouth.

"Oh. My. God," Jackson heaves dramatically. "I literally cannot believe this. What a..." he lapses
into English the way he does when he can't find the right words to express himself in Korean, this
time with a stream of impressively colourful profanities.

Jinyoung waits until the torrent of vulgarity stops and Jackson switches back to Korean to continue
his passionate rant. "So what if he's rich? Where does he get off treating people like crap? Who
would want to steal his crusty watch anyway? We don't have to be humiliated by him! How dare
he..." And he's off again.

Jinyoung is immeasurably comforted by Jackson's righteous anger on his behalf, his unchanging
stance on Jinyoung's side, but he really just wants to be alone to wallow in the heartbreak. He half-
listens to Jackson voicing out his innermost thoughts and litany of suffered slights, but soon it stops
vindicating him and somehow starts making him feel worse. His mind keeps flitting uncontrollably
back to Jaebum's face in the parking lot -- a crushing mixture of disappointment and betrayal.

He straggles to his feet, making Jackson pause and look up at him fretfully. "What's wrong?"

"I have to return the watch," Jinyoung says resolutely.

"Of course you have to! I'll take you to his house tomorrow and we can throw it at his face."

"No, thanks. I can go alone."

Jinyoung takes two whole days to muster up the courage to return the watch, which sits heavy in his
pocket like an irreversible mistake, an irretrievable loss. At first, he considers taking the easy way out
of leaving it in an envelope in Jaebum's mailbox or at the reception of his company, but decides that
he can't rely on strangers to deliver it to Jaebum. This time, he needs to personally pass it back into
Jaebum's hands to leave no room for further misunderstanding.
On the third day, Jinyoung showers after practice and puts on his smartest set of clothes. It's the only
branded clothes he owns and he usually wears it to interviews or special occasions. He convinces
himself it has nothing to do with impressing Jaebum, wanting to leave a good last impression.

He lies to Jackson that he's going to meet another friend and takes a taxi to the address on Jaebum's
name card. When he reaches the office building in the heart of the bustling business district, he has to
crane his neck to stare up at where the top of the skyscraper spears the clouds.

Jinyoung shuffles into the polished, air-conditioned lobby self-consciously, tugging at the hem of his
shirt. He heads for the reception and leans forward, mumbling, "I'm here to see Mr Im Jaebum."

The receptionist, a modelesque young woman, looks startled. "Do you mean the CEO?" she
clarifies, and Jinyoung nods.

The woman gives him an odd once-over. "Do you have an appointment?"

Jinyoung hesitates. "No. But I texted him that I was coming."

This apparently convinces the woman, who asks for his name and presses a button on the phone to
speak to a female secretary.

"Mr Im will see you now. Please proceed to the elevators and alight on the fifteenth floor," she bows
respectfully, buzzing Jinyoung through the barriers.

Jinyoung tries not to trip over his feet as he follows her directions, knees feeling like jelly. When the
elevator dings open at the fifteenth floor, he steps out onto a carpeted lobby. It is spacious, elegantly
decorated and spotlessly clean, and Jinyoung treads warily towards the glass door of the only office
on the floor.

He presses the intercom and the secretary sitting inside looks up and buzzes him in. Her face is as
plastic pretty as the receptionist on the ground floor and she flashes him a perfect, white smile. "Mr
Park? Please proceed directly to Mr Im's office." She gestures to another door in the adjacent wall,
this one opaque.

Jinyoung smiles back and thanks her nervously before walking towards the door and knocking
tentatively on it.

"Come in," he hears Jaebum's muffled voice and turns the doorknob.

Jaebum's office is even more forbidding than his apartment, consisting of three white walls and one
floor-length picture window overlooking a vista of the city. He is sitting behind a large desk piled
high with assorted documents and folders surrounding a cutting-edge computer, his name and title
embossed on the glossy plate at the head of the table. He's dressed in only a striped tie and work shirt
today, suit jacket hanging from a coat rack by the wall.

When Jinyoung steps in, he looks up slowly, taking off the horn-rimmed glasses he's wearing and
massaging the grooves on both sides of his nose with his fingers. Is it Jinyoung's imagination or do
his eyes look more tired than they did days ago?

"What do you want?" Jaebum's voice is impassive, his eyes blank.

"I asked you to keep it," Jaebum's voice rings out behind him, now coloured by a vibrant note of
anger.

Jinyoung turns around slowly. "I don't want it," he enunciates, glaring at Jaebum. "I'm sorry I took it.
Bye."

Before he reaches the door, Jaebum has stood up, crossed the room in three strides and slammed a
palm onto it, effectively blocking his exit.

Jinyoung gulps, his heart dropping to his feet which are rooted to the ground.

"You're not leaving unless you take it," Jaebum says, voice icy again.

Jinyoung struggles to hold back the hot tears of rage pushing at his eyes. "I'm going to scream," he
threatens. "I'm going to let the whole world know you fucked me."

"Go ahead," Jaebum says silkily. "I own this fucking company, in case you forgot."

Jinyoung grits his teeth helplessly. He considers trying to overpower Jaebum and flee, but knows
from experience that his strength is no match.

"What do you want from me?" he bursts out. "Why are you treating me like this?"

Jaebum lets his hand fall from the door, Jinyoung's questions seeming unheard. "Why don't you want
it? Isn't that what you approached me for?" He skewers Jinyoung with his gaze, seeming genuinely
perplexed.

Jinyoung's mouth falls open. He nearly snorts out loud at the man's unbelievable conceitedness, the
sheer nerve of him.

"No," he says, putting as much venom in the single word as he can. "Why would I want your shitty
watch?"

Jaebum's lips curl in amusement. "It's worth more than a million."

"W-what?" Jinyoung takes a step back. He didn't know Rolexes cost so much.

As if reading his thoughts, Jaebum says carelessly, "It's an antique, custom-made for my father, the
only one in the world. But I think you already know that."

"I... I didn't!" Jinyoung says in horror. "I swear I didn't!"

Jaebum's eyes widen, surprise, uncertainty and an unnameable emotion flickering across his features
for an instant. But his voice is patronizing as he continues smoothly, "It's alright. You can have it."

Jinyoung hates the pitying charity in his eyes, the way they make Jinyoung feel smaller than an ant.
Then a jolt of anger flares white hot across his vision. Honestly, the man had a severe affliction of
Prince disease. Was he really so delusional as to think that Jinyoung had nothing better to do with his
life than hatch a conspiracy to get close to him just to steal a crappy Rolex?

He digs his fingernails into his palms and says clearly, "I don't care if you believe me, but I really did
not know anything about your watch. I never meant to take it either. It was an accident, and I
apologize once more for any misunderstanding I caused. Goodbye." He bows again, then turns on
his heel, determined that Jaebum will not deter him from leaving this time.

As he places his hand on the doorknob, Jinyoung remembers his parting shot. He turns around to aim
it like an arrow towards bull's eye, but the expression on Jaebum's face makes the words vanish from
his brain. Because Jaebum looks stricken, relieved, bereaved and bitterly regretful all at once, if that
is possible. There is none of the arrogance and brutality Jinyoung had heard in his voice in those
wide eyes, which are staring at Jinyoung's back with an almost unbearably soft longing --

Jaebum freezes for a beat, looking terrified, before blinking rapidly. His regains control of his face
within seconds, impenetrable vacancy washing over it again, as placid and stoic as if Jinyoung had
imagined the passion, the intensity he saw in those dark orbs.

Jaebum is staring at him quizzically, so Jinyoung racks his brain for his planned closing statement.
Thankfully, he remembers it. "And you need to get your head out of your ass!" he practically shouts
before hauling the door open and bursting out, running all the way past the stunned secretary to the
lobby, his heart still racing frantically in the downward hurtling elevator as his last glimpse of
Jaebum's face stays imprinted behind his retinas -- wounded, frustrated, uncomprehending.

Jinyoung doesn't hear from Jaebum for a week and four days. Not that he's counting. Or expecting to
hear from Jaebum ever, for that matter. He is more jaded and cynical than after the first time they
met, knowing that their relationship has been broken in a way that can never be mended, like shards
of shattered glass cannot be pieced together into the original whole, like spilt milk cannot be
contained in the cup again.

The only thing that bothers him is the incomplete, hostile note on which they parted. It had felt like
walking down a street only to step into thin air and being plunged into an abyss, like driving on a
road and being blindsided by a truck spinning out of nowhere. No warning signs or premonitions,
lightning striking on a clear day. They had been getting on so well. What had gone wrong? Jinyoung
hadn't even found the answer to this question before it was all over. But then again, that's not his
fault.

Jinyoung knows that he should thank his stars if Jaebum never contacts him again, that even if he
does, Jinyoung should sever their ties permanently. Because being with Jaebum is like playing with
fire -- every time Jinyoung walks away, he finds himself burned beyond recognition.

Jinyoung knows all this, he does. But then why does his heart skip a beat when he sees a familiar
height, a salaryman's suit? Why do his body and heart defy his mind and remember sensations he has
no memory of? Or maybe he's just repressing the memory because it's too painful. Why does
Jinyoung leap out of his skin every time his phone rings or vibrates with a message? Why does he
spend his days staring listlessly out of the window, even his usually precise movements during
practice growing sluggish and lethargic?

Why then, despite knowing in every fiber of his being that he shouldn't, does he open the text
message with a pounding heart when the name Im Jaebum flashes across his phone screen two
weeks and three days later?

(Why the hell was Jaebum's number still in his contact list anyway?)

Jinyoung opens the message with shaking fingers and a furiously cartwheeling heart, feeling like the
embodiment of the saying Curiosity killed the cat. He knows he should delete the message without
reading it, that reading it will only open doors he has no right entering, but if he did, how could he
ever deal with not knowing what was in that message for the rest of his life? He'd just take one peek,
he promises himself. One peek and then he'd ignore and delete it, and Jaebum's number too.

The world stops for an instant when he rapidly scans the message. Can you meet me, just once? I
have something to tell you. I'll be waiting at the park nearby your studio at 6 until you come. If you
don't, I'll understand and never contact you again.

The last four words hit Jinyoung with the force of a freight train. Never contact you again.
Jinyoung's world tilts alarmingly at the thought of Jaebum vanishing completely from his life, as if he
had never existed, never fucked Jinyoung until every cell of his body ignited like an inferno, never
swept into Jinyoung's life like a hurricane and turned it upside down. How could he live without the
prospect of ever seeing Jaebum again; how could he ever, ever forget his traffic-stopping good looks,
his breathtaking brutality, his devastating gentleness?

Jinyoung doesn't think he's capable of it.

So he doesn't keep his promise of deleting the message. He doesn't reply it either, just puts away his
phone and tries to concentrate on individual practice for the next few hours. But his concentration is
shot and he falls more than once, nearly spraining his ankle. When he picks up his phone again, the
time reads 6.14 PM.

An incredibly vivid image flashes through his mind: Jaebum sitting alone on a park bench, his
immaculate suit looking misfitting against the scarred, ugly wood, looking around him eagerly and
occasionally peering at his watch. His head snapping up with hope at every set of passing footsteps,
then lowering in disappointment. His growing resignation as the minutes ticked by, the imminent
realization that Jinyoung would not be coming...

Jinyoung shakes his head to dissipate the image. This is ridiculous. Why should he care if Jaebum
waited stupidly, pathetically alone in the cold until midnight? He deserved it for how he had treated
Jinyoung. Jinyoung hadn't dared to breathe a word about it to anybody, especially Jackson, only
evasively replying that he had returned the watch when Jackson asked. He knew that if he told
Jackson the truth about how horribly he had been degraded, the unspeakable words that Jaebum had
hurled at him, nothing and no one would be able to stop Jackson from going on a rampage to avenge
Jinyoung. Jinyoung would rather be the only casualty in this catastrophe.

Jinyoung practices for another hour, until his muscles are screaming for mercy, until he's too
exhausted to continue thinking Jaebum Jaebum Jaebum. The rest of the team have long since left
and he takes a long, hot shower in the empty changing room. After that, he dries himself off and
dresses slowly, blow-drying his hair as he studies himself in the mirror. Bambam's eyeliner is lying
on the dressing table. He must've forgotten to take it home. Jinyoung picks it up and opens it,
bringing the pencil tip towards his eyelash line and experimentally tracing the top of his eye, then
colouring in the corners. He shades and smudges until both his eyes are heavily lined with kohl and
he no longer looks like himself. He looks dangerous, sensual.

Jinyoung replaces the eyeliner on the table and doesn't ask himself why he's putting on makeup if
he's going straight home because he doesn't have an answer.

He checks his phone again. It reads 9.05PM. There are no new messages. Jinyoung plays Angry
Birds on his phone for forty minutes before gathering up his belongings, satisfied that even if Jaebum
had been by, he would've long given up by now.

The early winter chill is biting in the night breeze, and Jinyoung wraps a scarf around his neck and
shoves his hands into his jacket pockets as he makes his way out of the building. His breath fogs up
in the air as he exhales and the streets are mostly deserted, too late and cold for people to roam
around.

As he's walking past the park, Jinyoung can't resist stealing a sideways glance, just for the sake of it.
He doesn't actually expect Jaebum to be there in this bone-aching cold and nearly four hours later.
But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees a familiar figure, on the very park bench he had
imagined, his shoulders hunched against the cold, looking like a hallucination.

Jinyoung's heart is roaring in his ears as he approaches, anger clouding his mind and confusing him.
He knows he should just ignore Jaebum and continue his way home. He had done so well so far. But
all he can think of as he stalks towards the park bench is what he's going to do if he finds Jaebum still
on the bench on his way to practice the next morning, only dead and blue with hypothermia.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he snaps as soon as he's in front of Jaebum. Jaebum is clad in a
lightweight suit and tie, not even wearing a jacket for heaven's sake. A thin briefcase is his own
companion, sitting on the bench beside him. His ears are deep red with cold and his arms are folded
tightly for warmth, his face paper white. Jinyoung thinks he can hear his teeth clattering.

"Jinyoung?" Jaebum raises his head, eyes widening comically and leaps to his feet, his knees
immediately buckling. If Jinyoung hadn't caught him in time, he would've faceplanted. "Whoops,"
he laughs hoarsely. "Just a little cramp."

"Have you been sitting here since six?" Jinyoung is dimly aware that he's shouting.

Jaebum looks surprised. "Didn't you see my text?"

"Of course I saw your fucking text, why else would I know you've been here since six? Jesus."

"Jinyoung."

"..."

"Jinyoung."

"What?! Stop calling my name."

"Is that really you? Am I dreaming?"

"I'm leaving."

"You came. You came."

Jinyoung abruptly realizes that he's still holding Jaebum's elbows, and quickly lets go. Jaebum teeters
unsteadily on his feet and Jinyoung grabs his arm roughly again. "You really are an old man, aren't
you?"

"Too old for you."

"Damn straight. You can go home now."

"Let me drive you home."

"Please. It's too cold for you to walk."

"Not too cold for you to sit here for four hours, apparently."

"I was freezing."

"That's your business. No one asked you to wait."

"I couldn't take the risk."

"What risk?"

"The risk that if you came by at --" Jaebum checks his watch with a wry smile, "-- 10.23PM, I
wouldn't be here."

Somehow, Jinyoung ends up helping Jaebum to his car, carrying his briefcase for him. He doesn't
know how it happened, probably due to Jaebum's Oscar-worthy acting skills. The way he had
hobbled to the carpark, leaning heavily on Jinyoung, you'd think he'd been sitting there for four days
and not hours.

"You can stop faking it," Jinyoung says testily when Jaebum opens the passenger door for him.
"You're cramped, not crippled."

Jaebum's eyes widen, his feet halting mid-limp, and suddenly Jinyoung finds himself pinned against
the side of the car by Jaebum's hips and imprisoned between his arms, his face way too close for
comfort to Jinyoung's as he peers into Jinyoung's eyes. "What did you do to your eyes?" he breathes,
hand moving up to Jinyoung's face, tracing the shape of his eye with a light finger.

Jinyoung struggles to escape the awkward position to no avail, settling on coughing to maintain his
dignity. "It's just eyeliner," he says carelessly, trying to hide how thrilled he is that Jaebum noticed.

"Whatever it is... do you know what it does to me?" Jaebum's gaze continues penetrating him,
eyelids falling to half-mast.

Jinyoung shrugs, face flaming, and Jaebum rolls his hips against Jinyoung's, once, twice. "It makes
me want to bend you over the hood of my car and fuck you right here, right now," he whispers
hotly, right in Jinyoung's ear.

Jinyoung feels his own erection growing, and hastily brings his hands up to Jaebum's chest to shove
him away brusquely. "We're over," he says curtly. "Say whatever you want and take me home
now."

Apparently Jaebum realizes that he means business, because he reluctantly releases Jinyoung and
hurries to the driver's side, his cramp miraculously cured. The interior of the car is relievingly toasty,
the heater on. Jinyoung immediately cranks it to full blast to warm Jaebum up. After a few minutes
he starts feeling like he's in a sauna, so he discreetly unwinds his scarf. He steals a glance at Jaebum
and fights back the impulse to wrap it around his neck.

Jinyoung studies Jaebum and feels his warm feelings slowly ebb away as he realizes that Jaebum had
literally manipulated him into seeing him again. He knew that Jinyoung was soft-hearted and had
used that against him. Jackson was right. What was his problem? Why did he think he could blow
hot and cold whenever he liked, belittle Jinyoung whenever he was angry, flirt playfully with him
whenever he felt horny, fuck him anytime and anywhere he pleased? Jinyoung had no obligation to
deal with his bipolar mood swings, his ever-changing temperament.

But the question Jinyoung found most difficult to answer was: why, despite knowing how toxic and
screwed up their relationship was, did Jinyoung come back for more, time and again?

Jaebum's sleeve slips down his left wrist a little, and Jinyoung notices a detail he faintly registered
just now but was too overwhelmed to dissect -- Jaebum is wearing the Rolex again. What did it
mean? Did Jinyoung even care?

Jaebum notices the direction of his gaze, and says casually, "It's a family heirloom."

"Of course I knew that," Jinyoung says bitterly. "Why else would I steal it?"

Jaebum looks startled by the biting sarcasm in his tone, hazarding a glance at him. "Jinyoung-ah..."
he starts.

"You said you had something to tell me," Jinyoung interrupts.

Jaebum is silent for a moment, before he says, "It's difficult for me to trust people. A lot of them...
have a motive for getting close to me."

Jinyoung doesn't say anything.

"Most of the time, though, I don't really care," Jaebum continues. "But when I thought you did that,
it... it killed me." His voice grows harsh. "I don't know why but I felt like such a gullible idiot for
believing you, for misjudging you, for --"

"For?" Jinyoung prompts.

Jaebum swallows, his throat working. "For trusting you. For letting you in."

"Then don't," Jinyoung says shortly, reaching for his door handle as Jaebum pulls up outside his
apartment building.

Jaebum's hand on his shoulder stops him. "But I want you," he says, voice raw. "Any way I can
have you, on any terms, I'll take them."

Jinyoung closes his eyes, focusing all the nerve endings in his body in that one blistering spot of his
shoulder where Jaebum's hand rests. The conversation is losing its thread of logic, and Jinyoung
knows that if he's smart, he'll run away as far as he can and never look back. But there's only one
thing he knows for sure: that he craves Jaebum's touch, needs it like he needs oxygen and water and
food, that he wants to feel the electric heat of Jaebum's body on top of him.

"Jinyoung," Jaebum murmurs behind him, his voice like an enchantation. "I'm cold tonight. Warm
me up."
Jinyoung's eyes flutter open the next morning to Jaebum carefully carding his fingers through
Jinyoung's floppy bangs, brushing them to one side like a curtain so he can see Jinyoung's eyes.
Jaebum's eyes are deep dark pools like abysses, and Jinyoung wishes he could hide behind his fringe
from their intensity.

"You look different with your hair down," Jaebum remarks, letting it fall back when Jinyoung closes
his eyes again. "Younger."

Jinyoung isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing. He usually sweeps his bangs to the side of his
forehead and holds it in place with a barette at home, and hairspray or mousse when he's going out.
"Do you like it?" he dares to joke.

"Jinyoung-ah," Jaebum says grimly. "How old are you?"

Uh-oh, Jinyoung thinks. He had slyly managed to avoid bringing up his age until then, knowing that
Jaebum thought he was in his late twenties and not correcting the assumption. He didn't know why,
maybe because he was worried Jaebum wouldn't take him seriously or see him as an equal. The
disparity in their statuses was already vast enough as it was and Jaebum is just so infuriatingly adult
he makes Jinyoung feel hopelessly adolescent.

"I just turned twenty-five," he admits with consternation, and Jaebum inhales softly.

"You're a baby!" he mutters an oath, but his eyes are dark more with contrition and remorse than
anger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jaebum murmurs, anguished. "How could I have suspected you...?"

Jinyoung is confused. "Does that have anything to do with my age?"

Jaebum only shakes his head and covers both Jinyoung's eyes with one hand, his voice deepening.
"Don't look at me. I'm ashamed."

Jinyoung laughs and waits patiently for Jaebum to remove his hand, but after a few seconds he feels
something cold and hard slipping around his wrist instead. Metal. A watch.

Jinyoung gasps, throwing Jaebum's hand off as he brings his arm up. An exquisitely crafted,
obviously expensive Tag Heuer watch is clasped snugly around his wrist. A small smile spreads over
Jaebum's face as he studies it. "It suits you."

Jinyoung's fingers tremble as he struggles clumsily to take it off. "I can't accept this --" he protests,
but Jaebum silences him with a finger on his lips.

"I'm so sorry," he says, a tear falling soundlessly from the corner of his eye onto the pillow,
dampening it. "Please don't return it. I'll never be able to forgive myself."

Jinyoung can practically feel his heart melting into a puddle of goo. Seriously, he's such a softie. He
disgusts himself. Jinyoung sighs loudly but leaves it on. "I'll pay you back in installments," he
mumbles, and Jaebum cracks an impossibly relieved smile through his tears.

Jinyoung's eyes fall on the Rolex around his wrist, and Jaebum looks chagrined for a second before
chuckling softly. "I wanted to give you this at first, but figured it was too big," he says with a straight
face.
Jinyoung makes a face. "No, thanks. I'd have bad memories every time I looked at it."

Jaebum looks hurt by the words but accepts them humbly, and Jinyoung is surprised by the dawning
realization that they are not strictly true. For all intents and purposes, they should be, but instead of
the fading sting of Jaebum's humiliation, what Jinyoung recalls most when he sees the watch is
Jaebum's vulnerability, his easily hurt fragility and feigned toughness. His controlled gentility now as
he gazes down at Jinyoung, like Jinyoung is the one who is fragile as porcelain and Jaebum is afraid
to break him.

Jaebum remains speechless, as if reflecting on his mistakes, and Jinyoung decides to steer the
conversation to lighter topics. "How did you know my size, anyway?" He pokes Jaebum's cheek,
and Jaebum breaks out of his reverie with a dazed laugh.

He touches his thumb to his forefinger to form a circle. "Because your wrist fits in here," he says.

Jinyoung snorts at the tiny hole. "I don't believe it."

Jaebum just takes his other arm and closes the fingers over Jinyoung's bare wrist, and Jinyoung is
surprised to find that it's true.

After Jinyoung washes up and brushes his teeth with a new toothbrush borrowed from Jaebum, he
pads to the kitchen barefoot, drawn by the aromas of caffeine, eggs and bacon. Jaebum is standing at
the stove looking comically housewife-like in an apron, clumsily scrambling eggs in a pan.

"It's almost ready!" he enthuses when Jinyoung comes in, and bustles to the refrigerator to pour him
a glass of fresh milk. Jinyoung accepts and drinks it, amused. It's ice cold and frothy, delicious.
Probably some ridiculously expensive designer brand. Was there such a thing as designer milk?

Jaebum slides the eggs onto two plates of greasy bacon and slightly charred toast, humming under
his breath. He seems to be in a good mood. After he sets them down on the kitchen counter in a
flourish, he turns to face Jinyoung who is struggling to clamber onto one of the uncomfortably high
barstools, and laughs.

Jinyoung looks up, blushing in embarrassment. Who designed these impractical stools, anyway? But
Jaebum reaches out to brush his thumb across Jinyoung's upper lip. "You have a milk moustache,"
he explains, eyes still laughing.

Jinyoung blushes twice as violently as Jaebum lifts his thumb to his mouth and wraps his lips around
it, sucking slowly as he holds Jinyoung's gaze. He is caught off guard when Jaebum easily climbs
onto a stool and lifts Jinyoung into his lap. "Darling," he murmurs in Jinyoung's ear, and Jinyoung
can't see Jaebum's expression but the depth of his voice sends a tingle down Jinyoung's spine.

When he turns, Jaebum's lips meet his halfway, the plates of cooling breakfast forgotten as Jinyoung
sips and laps at Jaebum's mouth. Jaebum tastes of strong black coffee and the spearmint toothpaste
Jinyoung has just used, and Jinyoung has never felt so hungry.

Jinyoung has always known that Jaebum was possessive, but as they enter this tentative new phase
of their relationship, his need to monopolize Jinyoung begins to seem stifling, even suffocating. He
doesn't seem to understand the concept of personal space, expecting Jinyoung to drop everything and
make time for him the moment he calls and sulking irritably whenever he doesn't get his way or
Jinyoung's attention wanders from him. He's acting like an overgrown kid and it's overbearing.

"You need to back down," Jinyoung tells him reasonably. "My life doesn't revolve around you, you
know."

Jaebum pouts with uncharacteristic childishness. "I just don't get it."

"Don't get what?" Jinyoung furrows his brow.

"Why do you live with him if you're not fucking?" Jaebum explodes crudely, and Jinyoung realizes
the reason for his short-temperedness of late.

"Do you mean Jackson?" he hedges, and Jaebum grinds his teeth at the name, confirming his
suspicions.

Jinyoung laughs incredulously. "We're just friends. This might come as a surprise to you, but not
everyone can afford to rent a whole apartment by themselves," he can't help jibing snarkily.

Jaebum's face clears up. "If that's the reason, then --"

"No, no, no," Jinyoung interrupts flatly. "Whatever you're about to offer, the answer is no." He's
getting a little tired of Jaebum's narrow mindset that all problems can be solved with money. "Even if
I had enough money, I would still choose to live with Jackson. I enjoy his company."

Jaebum looks desolate. "But why..." he forces out, unable to continue.

"It's called being roommates." Jinyoung rolls his eyes. "Though I doubt you'd understand."

Jaebum looks frustrated as he struggles to voice the question in his mind. "Is he... straight?"

Jinyoung hesitates at this, the wind going out of his sails. "Not really," he says slowly.

"Then why haven't you hooked up?" Jaebum interrogates.

Jinyoung sighs, wondering how to put this delicately. "He doesn't like... being on top," he finally
manages, flushing bright crimson.

This revelation stops Jaebum's tirade, comprehension dawning in his eyes. Jinyoung can already see
the next question chasing across his face and quickly launches on before Jaebum can ask how he
knows. "Besides, he has a boyfriend." Jinyoung delivers this information with a truimphant smile,
certain it will put an end to Jaebum's petty jealousies.

Jaebum takes this in and considers it for a beat, then thankfully softens, looking pacified, at least for
the moment. "I still don't like it," he grumbles halfheartedly, eyes narrowed, but Jinyoung declines to
discuss the subject any longer.

Jaebum clings on to his unsavory first impression of Jackson, refusing to be satisfied until Jinyoung
finally gives in and agrees to introduce Jaebum to Jackson's boyfriend. Jinyoung persuades Jackson
to call Yugyeom out and Jaebum reserves a table at a swanky, newly-opened French bistro.
The dinner is predictably awkward, Jackson and Jaebum staring each other down from opposite
sides of the table, the air between them sizzling as Jinyoung stares ahead at Yugyeom, the only one
who seems to have any appetite and is ravenously wolfing down escargots and duck confit, oblivious
to the cloud of tension.

Jaebum cracks a few tasteless jokes and generally acts like a pompous narcissist, and Jinyoung
wouldn't have been able to stick it before but today he sees through the cracks in Jaebum's exterior to
the frustrated difficulty in expressing himself, the burning desire to impress Jinyoung's friends that
ends up backfiring.

"What do you see in that asshat?" Jackson shakes his head tragically, finally picking at his Caesar
salad when Jaebum has excused himself to go to the restroom.

Jinyoung avoids his eyes. "We're just friends."

"Friends with benefits, you mean." Jackson sniggers at his own pun.

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, face growing warm. "What's your problem? You were the one who
encouraged me to call him at first, remember?"

"Don't remind me," Jackson groans, covering his face. "I just... I don't like how he makes you cry."

"He does not make me cry!" Jinyoung hisses, shooting a mortified glance at Yugyeom. "I mean, I
don't cry!"

"Relax, Yugyeomie already knows," Jackson drawls, like that's supposed to make him feel better.

Yugyeom's ears perk up at his name and he raises his head at last, still chewing. "Jackson-hyung is
right. I heard some stuff about him too."

"Stuff? What stuff?" Jinyoung takes the bait, passionately curious despite himself.

Yugyeom wipes his mouth with a napkin and downs a gulp of red wine. "My friend Yerin's sister
Jimin dated him for awhile a few years back, and he totally broke her heart."

Jinyoung swallows hard at the mention of one of Jaebum's ex-girlfriends. Yugyeom continues,
unperturbed. "She told me he's kind of notorious for being a playboy."

Playboy. The word hits Jinyoung like a glancing blow, and he imagines Jaebum with his scruffy hair
and bad-boy smile, trailing a string of broken hearts behind him like a comet's tail. Maybe Jinyoung
might just be one of many, replaceable, disposable.

"We're just having fun," is all he can think to blurt out to save face in front of his friends who are
watching him intently, but at that moment Jaebum appears back at the table, the look on his face
making it obvious that he heard Jinyoung's proclamation, loud and clear.

After that day, they settle into a kind of routine, a careful, calculated dancing around each other, this
thing between them undefined but steadily growing. Jinyoung will go days on end without hearing
from Jaebum, not a single text or call, and then Jaebum will turn up outside his studio after practice
without a word of warning, looking so achingly hopeful that Jinyoung doesn't have the heart to say
no to him. They will drive to Jaebum's apartment in smouldering silence, Jaebum's hand on the
gearshift snaking hungrily to find his knee and Jinyoung will feel that familiar electrical charge
leaping between their skin, like a magnetic attraction that defies all logic and common sense, never
losing its mysterious power.

He now regrets pretending to be such a seasoned player of the game, that hot guys hit on him on a
daily basis. He had wanted to seem tougher and more experienced than he really was, and it had
backfired on him. Jinyoung worries now that he has bitten off more than he can chew.

There is an unacknowledged but tangible current of mistrust running between them, sown by the
watch issue and fed by Yugyeom's gossip and Jackson's outspoken disapproval. Jinyoung abhores it
but has no idea how to undo it. The longer he leaves it to fester, the deeper and more convoluted the
misunderstanding evolves, spreading its roots in the foundation of their relationship and becoming
more and more taboo, unmentionable. Jinyoung feels like a small animal tangled in a ball of yarn --
the more he struggles, the increasingly difficult the knots are to unravel.

After their first date, Jinyoung had wondered if that would be the end of them, if Jaebum would lose
interest in him after a one-night stand. He doesn't tell anyone, but that insecurity still persists, grating
and disturbing, gnawing at him from the inside. Is Jaebum even interested in being more than fuck
buddies? Even after they have met more times than he can count on his fingers, every night spent
together still feels like a booty call, detached from each other and not the infinitesimal building of a
growing relationship.

Jinyoung knows that he is reaping his just desserts, that he can hardly act like a spurned girl tricked
into losing her chastity because he's not one. He's a tall, masculine man with the strength to fend for
himself but Jinyoung wonders why Jaebum's unattainable maturity makes him feel hopelessly small.

Jinyoung can't stand how distant he feels when Jaebum puts him at arm's length, growing avuncular
and standoffish, unapproachable. When his eyes shutter like closed windows and grow brooding and
pensive, it's like an insurmountable brick wall going up between them, a chasm too deep and
treacherous to breach.

On his part, Jaebum seems to advance and withdraw in an incomprehensible pattern too. Now that
they have grown comfortable, Jinyoung realizes that the cocky swagger and suave charisma are but
smokescreens he hides behind to disguise his real, inscrutable emotions. He is always faultlessly
well-bred, treating Jinyoung with a chivalry so exaggerated it's almost mocking.

Jinyoung wishes that Jaebum would stop handling him with kid gloves and restrained strength,
holding himself back as if Jinyoung is a ticking explosive he's dismantling, liable to implode any
moment.

Up till now, it still confounds him sometimes what's a front and what's not, never completely sure at
any time whether Jaebum is joking or serious. More than once, Jinyoung had caught himself staring
at Jaebum like a Rubik's cube that stumped him, trying with infuriating inability to figure out the
thoughts and secrets that lay behind that easy, laidback grin. Jinyoung hates the way Jaebum is so
presumptous and confident in his possession, just taking for granted that he owns Jinyoung, body
and soul. Or maybe he hates that Jaebum is right.

So they go on, unable to progress but powerless to stop too, trapped in an agonizingly sweet
stalemate. Every time, Jinyoung is certain that it will be the last, that this will be the day the all-
consuming fire between them finally dies out into ineffectual embers, dissipating as quickly as it had
come, but it only seems to grow impossibly stronger like a beast that feeds on everything.

But every time Jinyoung is thisclose to giving up, Jaebum will show a flash of vulnerability, a
glimpse of something genuine, and that will be all it takes to reel Jinyoung back in. One step
forward, two steps back. He's like a marionette and Jaebum the puppetmaster controlling his strings,
and it's twisted and warped but Jinyoung can't run away from this doomed falling.

Jinyoung had never imagined he would ever fall for a person like Jaebum. Jinyoung's ideal type is
humble, easygoing and friendly, good-natured. Jaebum is entirely the antithesis of that -- entitled,
undeserving, born with a silver spoon in his mouth and everything handed to him, the embodiment of
the haughty spoilt chaebols every penniless middle-class guy, including Jinyoung and Jackson, loves
to hate. But maybe the saying that opposites attract is true after all.

Jinyoung soon finds out that Jaebum had neglected to mention that the apartment and summer house
were just two of the countless properties and land that he owned, and that was only in Korea. And
property only made up a fraction of his assets and investments. Jinyoung can't even wrap his head
around the kingdom of Jaebum's wealth, much less put himself in Jaebum's shoes. But he imagines
that it might sometimes feel more like a burden than liberating.

Jaebum is breathtakingly ambitious, a man of unabashedly enormous appetites for living, playing and
most of all, loving. Sometimes Jinyoung wonders if he's just another of Jaebum's proudly displayed
acquisitions, on the same rank as inanimate objects like auctioned items sold to the highest bidder. He
wants to tell Jaebum to treat him with care, because Jinyoung is not an android sex doll but flesh and
blood, a living and breathing human being, rendered powerless by his weakness for Jaebum.

As time passes, every day brings with it a new discovery about Jaebum. Jinyoung has never met
anyone quite like Im Jaebum. He's a Pandora's box of contradictions and Jinyoung finds his
personality endlessly fascinating. Unsurprisingly for his upbringing and lifestyle, Jaebum has
cultivated and exacting tastes, whether in food, wardrobe or the people he associates with. Jinyoung
feels like a sore thumb sticking out brightly amidst the well-educated intellectuals, airbrushed
celebrities and hugely successful business magnates Jaebum surrounds himself with, a country
bumpkin from a small town outside of Seoul.

Jaebum has a picky and delicate palate, and a rigorous exercise regiment to always keep him in top
shape. He has a personal trainer and a monthly gym membership that costs almost as much as
Jinyoung's annual income. However, once Jaebum manages to find something that suits his
discerning and obscure tastes, he is unstinting and unsparing in whatever it costs, not batting an
eyelash as he signs away hundreds at a time in credit card purchases.

Jaebum enjoys spending lavishly, dining in only the finest restaurants on gourmet food prepared by
award-winning chefs and spoiling and pampering Jinyoung. One of his favourite hobbies is lounging
in his faux leather armchair, mile-long legs sprawled carelessly before him and drawing languidly on
a cigarette as he watches Jinyoung tear open the acres of ribbons on the intricately wrapped gift
boxes he brings home on every occasion, excitedly unwrapping the latest fancy high-tech gadget or
extravagant article of clothing, jewelry or toy Jaebum has decided to bestow on him. Jaebum knows
Jinyoung's weakness for surprises and enjoys nothing more than catering to it.

The only thing Jaebum loves more than showering gifts on Jinyoung is educating him on the more
discriminating ways of life. Jaebum has embarked on a determined mission to refine Jinyoung's tastes
and refuses to be deterred. Jinyoung is his diamond in the rough who he hopes to hone patiently and
one day elevate to his own level. Jinyoung can't believe that he can now identify Tiffany & Co. from
Bvlgari, that he can tell the difference in hue between jade and emerald and expertly intuit how many
carats a diamond is just by weighing it in the palm of his hand. He never imagined that he would
morph into one of those self-absorbed, privileged snobs he used to scorn one day.

But of course, his refinement is clumsy and superficial, not as authentic and ingrained from birth as
Jaebum's effortless distinguishment. Jaebum has an avid interest in haute couture and a sharp eye for
the season's fashion trends, pulling off the most outlandish looks like ankle-length pants and pin-
striped suits without even trying. This is mostly due to the lines of his perfect proportions and defined
features, like abstract art sculpted by Michelangelo himself. But to be honest, the thing that really
slays Jinyoung is that feral, devilish smirk, that patented quirk of one side of Jaebum's lips first and
then the other that liquefies Jinyoung's insides and boils his blood to lava.

Even after so many months, every time that Jinyoung sees Jaebum still hits him like a punch to the
gut, taking his breath away for an instant. Jaebum is always dressed in exquisitely tailored business
suits, immaculately groomed, looking cool and efficient and reliable, as the best businessmen should.
His daily wardrobe is a rotation of the latest spring collection from Burberry, Hugo Boss and Marc
Jacobs and Jinyoung had later found out that his indescribably heady scent was a cologne by Dior.
Jinyoung never imagined he would be attracted to a man like this -- the definition of metrosexual,
toeing the fine line between slick and greasy. But he privately thinks that it is completely unnecessary
for Jaebum to look like he's just stepped off the glossy pages of a magazine, even when he's just
woken up. It's not like he's a model or actor, for Christ's sake. Though he had made headlines briefly
a year ago for being the youngest Korean entrepreneur to be featured in Forbes magazine at 30.

The only redeeming part of Jaebum's royalty-worthy lifestyle is that he doesn't have a stable of
servants. That would be just going over the top. He only has a housekeeper who comes by once a
week, which he admits sheepishly to Jinyoung when he muses, "Why is your house so clean?"

Jinyoung worries his lip, eventually unable to help himself from blurting out, "Male or female?"

"What?" Jaebum looks confused.

"Your housekeeper," Jinyoung mumbles, and a knowing grin spreads over Jaebum's face.

"... Are you jealous?" he drawls, tilting Jinyoung's chin up with a fingertip, and Jinyoung blushes
beet red and denies vehemently.

Jaebum laughs, a beautifully lyrical sound. Jinyoung could listen to his laughter all day.

"Female," Jaebum says, eyes sparkling naughtily as he watches Jinyoung's face fall, then adds, "An
ahjumma."

Jinyoung's heart thuds in ridiculous relief, but he coughs and tries to hide it.

No matter how long has passed, Jinyoung doesn't think he'll ever get used to living in such sinful
excess, such unapologetic indulgence. But when Jinyoung meekly broaches the subject, Jaebum
frowns as if genuinely puzzled by Jinyoung's reservations. "Why should I settle for anything less
than the best?" he reasons, so unassumingly confident in his right to the epitome of affluence that
Jinyoung is silenced.

For all his affectations of mature superiority, Jinyoung is amused to gradually find out that in some
ways, Jaebum is just like any other typical guy with his penchant for fast cars, soccer matches and
online games. Jinyoung likes to call Jaebum out for being a poseur and tease Jaebum out of his
comfort zone, wheedling him into playing Dota with Jinyoung for hours and forgetting his cool, chic
image for awhile. He likes to think that maybe Jaebum also appreciates having Jinyoung by his side,
reminding him of the importance of keeping it real.

"What do you like about me?" Jinyoung wonders out loud one ubiquitous lazy afternoon, lying in
Jaebum's arms with the sheets tangled hopelessly around their ankles. They've just had the kind of
sweaty, athletic sex that feels like a full-body workout, and Jinyoung can feel the delicious bone-
deep exhaustion in every muscle of his body.

"What do you mean?" Jaebum props himself up on one elbow, eyes boring curiously into
Jinyoung's.

"I mean..." Jinyoung stutters, unsettled by Jaebum's direct gaze. "I'm so plain and unworldly. I'm just
me and you're... you."

We live in different worlds, he almost says before he catches himself. When had he started spouting
the cliche dialogue of actresses in Korean dramas? But unfortunately, it's true. Jaebum is well-
educated, well-travelled, well-read and experienced. Jinyoung is just a broke, struggling fencer,
brought up in a modest suburban family to be frugal and thrifty. No matter how much he tries, it's
impossible to completely disregard the gaping difference in their statuses, difficult not to feel lacking
and inferior at times. Why would Jaebum be wasting his time with Jinyoung when he could easily
date someone on his level? Sometimes Jinyoung wonders if he's just attracted by the novelty.

Jaebum brings him back to reality, tracing his cheek thoughtfully with a finger. "Did you know that
you have a dimple when you smile, right here?" he asks instead.

"No..."

"I do," Jaebum says simply, smiling, and it feels like enough of an answer.

But he goes on, "I like you because you're unworldly. You're different. Special. When I'm with you,
the world looks more beautiful. You make me want to be a better person."

Jinyoung blinks speechlessly and Jaebum lowers his head with an embarrassed smile. His
straightforward, unassuming candor bowls Jinyoung off his feet, more than any pretty words ever
could. Jinyoung loves how Jaebum surprises him with his bravery, not afraid to face how he feels or
say it honestly.

"What do you like about me?" Jaebum returns the question lightly, and Jinyoung breathes a laugh
and shakes his head. Hurt flickers across Jaebum's face momentarily, probably thinking Jinyoung
doesn't have an answer. If only Jinyoung was brave enough to say: How do I even begin?

When Jaebum comes home from a long, stressful day of work, smile tired and eyes exhausted, he
finds Jinyoung curled up on the couch in nothing but one of his white work shirts buttoned halfway
and Nora curled up in his lap, snoozing.

Jaebum's briefcase slips from his hand as he drops it forgotten by the door and advances towards
them, loosening the noose of his tie and undoing his top button. "My two favourite kittens," he says
affectionately, smile a few watts brighter.

Jinyoung smiles back and lifts a finger to his lips. "She just fell asleep," he mouths. "Don't disturb
her."

Jaebum only growls in the back of his throat as the couch dips under his weight and his arms are
shifting Jinyoung into his lap, dislodging and waking the cat, who mewls sleepily. "She'll live," he
laughs with the unconcern of a negligent cat owner.

Jinyoung perches on Jaebum's lap, spreading his legs around Jaebum's waist and savouring the
sublime sensation of Jaebum's hard cock rubbing lewdly against his ass through the layers of both
their pants. Jaebum's pupils are blown, his breathing jagged as Jinyoung slides his hands beneath the
lapels of his suit and pushes it off his shoulders. Jaebum helpfully tears his tie off, pinning both of
Jinyoung's wrists behind his back and binding them together with a clumsy but tight knot. Jinyoung
enjoys the bondage, the thrilling pain of the tie cutting into his wrists, the anticipation of the red
marks that will be chafed into his pale lower arms the next day.

"You buttoned it wrongly, pabo," Jaebum rasps huskily as his hands slide slowly up the row of
buttons to the collar of his shirt. The top two are undone, the collar gaping open to strategically
reveal a nipple.

Jinyoung smiles serenely. "I did it on purpose," he whispers in Jaebum's ear.

In a flash, both of Jaebum's hands are on his collar, his fingers curling over the fabric as he rips the
shirt open unceremoniously, buttons popping. Jinyoung shudders as Jaebum feasts ravished eyes on
the sight of his bare body, then his hands.

Jaebum takes him from the back, thrusting up into him and making Jinyoung cry out uncontrollably
with every sharp, pounding slam assaulting his prostate, the tension leaking out of Jaebum's tightly-
strung body and rolling off him in waves. After they come, Jinyoung lolls back loose-limbedly
against Jaebum's body and feels the knotted muscles in Jaebum's arms and shoulders gradually relax
with every evening breath. He pulls out of Jinyoung, the sudden absence leaving Jinyoung feeling
bereft and empty but Jaebum presses Jinyoung's head back onto his shoulder with a gentle hand on
his damp hair and strokes him to sleep.

When Jinyoung jerks awake at 4AM, he is stretched out on the couch, his head pillowed on one
armrest. He sits up to see Jaebum sitting on the other side, the cuffs of his work shirt rolled up to his
elbows, the horn-rimmed reading glasses he wears for work sliding down his nose as he squints at
his laptop screen, face illuminated by the phosphorescent glow. His usually stiffly starched white
shirt is creased, his hair sticking up every which way and for once he looks like a hassled
salaryman... a regular guy.

Jaebum looks up and smiles softly. "Did I wake you?"

Jinyoung shakes his head and rubs his eyes blearily. "What are you doing? Why didn't you carry me
to bed?"
Jaebum doesn't answer but asks thoughtfully, "What's your favourite number?"

"Huh?" Jinyoung blinks, thrown. "Uh... 7?"

Jaebum smiles in satisfaction and presses a button.

"... What did you just do?" Jinyoung clambers onto his hands and knees and scurries over, suddenly
struck by a portentous unease.

"Nothing much," Jaebum says carelessly. "Just bought some shares of the seventh company in this
list."

"What?" Jinyoung squeaks. He realizes that Jaebum had been monitoring the stock market, as he
sometimes does when he's free. Playing with shares is one of his favourite pastimes. In the short time
they've been together, Jinyoung has learnt that in the business world, Jaebum is a cutthroat and
consummate businessman, respected for his bold, decisive moves and reputation for going against the
flow. His only shortcoming is that he's an ungracious loser, but then again Jinyoung isn't surprised
because even in his personal life, Jaebum never fails to conquer everything he sets his heart on --
Jinyoung's body, his heart, his soul.

"What if you lose money?" Jinyoung panics. "Undo it right now!" He places both hands on
Jaebum's shoulders as Jaebum turns away and tries to peer over him at the computer screen. He is
horrified by the possibility of his whimsical choice of numbers incurring millions of dollars in losses.

"Chill out," Jaebum drawls lazily, enjoying Jinyoung's paroxysms of horror. "I can afford it."

He only has the decency to look alarmed and slightly repentant when Jinyoung lets out a traumatized
wail and flees to the bedroom.

When Jinyoung eventually works up the nerve to ask Jaebum if he has a personal stylist, Jaebum
laughs loudly. "No," he says, eyes dancing with amusement. "Do you want to apply for the job?"

Jinyoung is about to decline when he has an idea. "I'm interested," he says, caressing Jaebum's face
with his fingers until Jaebum's eyes darken. "When can you interview me... Sir?"

The word has its intended effect on Jaebum, whose voice cracks unsteadily as he coughs, "A-
anytime."

This is how Jaebum finds himself at a booth in the amusement park the next day, taking photo
stickers as Jinyoung pulls funny and cute faces beside him. Jinyoung bursts out laughing when the
strip of stickers comes out of the machine and he sees the look on Jaebum's face, mollified and
disgruntled as he looks ill at ease in the purple couple hoodies they had bought from the gift shop
with a big letter J on the front of both of them.

"People are staring," Jaebum hisses, hiding his face behind Jinyoung's shoulder as they walk down
the street. Jinyoung just laughs and turns around, pulling Jaebum's hood up over his head and tying
the cords of the hoodie so tightly that Jaebum looks even more dorky.
In the end, he gives in to Jaebum's long-suffering whining and agrees to buy snapbacks to shield
their faces. Jaebum insists on going to Tommy Hilfiger, picking out two snapbacks which
individually cost more than both hoodies combined. Jinyoung is appalled. At least they're matching.

Jaebum looks slightly more relieved after he has pulled one snapback over Jinyoung's head and the
other over his own. They leave the shop, huddling into each other for warmth and Jinyoung marvels
silently at how a simple change of attire can make Jaebum suddenly look younger than his age, so
young he can almost pass off as a college student. A heavy arm comes up around his back and
clamps around his shoulder as Jaebum pulls him into the warm crook of his arm. "We look like two
high school students on a date," Jaebum laughs, echoing his thoughts as if he can effortlessly see into
Jinyoung's mind.

When Jinyoung shyly invites Jaebum as his plus one to the annual national fencing association bash,
the smile of surprised pleasure on Jaebum's face outshines the sun.

"It's no big deal," Jinyoung waves a hand self-deprecatingly. "Just a stupid party."

But he can't help looking forward to it, meeting all his friends from other teams and showing off his
enviable boyfriend like the latest coveted Prada bag hanging off his arm.

Jaebum seems equally psyched, bringing his hands together in front of his face and teasing his lip
with a finger as he gives Jinyoung an assessing once-over. "We're going shopping," he announces.

"Shopping?" Jinyoung gapes, startled. "But I already have enough clothes!"

Jaebum turns around to look at him out of the corner of his eye, one side of his lips pulling up in a
backwards smirk. "There's no such thing," he says, doubling back to caress Jinyoung's cheek, "as
enough clothes."

Jinyoung takes a deep breath to argue back, his arsenal of ammunition ready, but Jaebum defeats him
with a single sentence: "You owe me for letting you style me last time."

Jinyoung sags with surrender, having nothing to combat that move. Jaebum smiles, gloating and
stands up.

He stamps a quick kiss on Jinyoung's temple, saying, "Get dressed," and Jinyoung dies a little inside
at how much dark intent he can imbue in those two words.

As he's not working today, Jaebum is rarely dressed down in a black leather jacket over black shirt,
paired with distressed jeans and accessorized with spiked cuffs and Gothic silver jewelry. His coal
black hair is unstyled, blunt bangs falling over his dark eyes. He looks like a criminally gorgeous
biker.

Jaebum whisks Jinyoung to the chain of exclusive designer boutiques he frequents, the posh,
professional salesgirls looking over the moon to see a frequent patron and famously big spender.
Racks of the latest styles are immediately wheeled out, which Jaebum frowns delicately as he runs
his fingers through, selecting and dismissing with an expert eye.
The latest rage on the catwalks seems to be going back to retro, and Jaebum smiles in approval as he
finally finds what he's looking for in Miu Miu and Max Mara, stroking the fabrics as if already
picturing Jinyoung in them.

"Try these on," he orders, settling down on a leather settee in the fitting room and gesturing to the
overflowing rack of clothes he just picked out. Jinyoung's jaw drops. "So many?"

Jaebum laughs. "I couldn't make up my mind."

Jinyoung groans. "You're only allowed to buy me three outfits, maximum," he says sternly, but
Jaebum merely smiles enigmatically without making promises.

Jinyoung sighs and obediently draws the velvet curtain of the fitting room closed. The amount of
clothes is daunting, but he's already trained his stamina from the private fashion shows Jaebum has
made him put up more than once.

It's not like Jinyoung is immune to the allure of pretty clothes, and they don't get any prettier than
this. Every swoosh of the material against his skin, every stitch and hem leaks quality. Today,
Jaebum seems to have forgotten that Jinyoung isn't a male catwalk model, favouring whimsical, bold
pieces some of which seem too quirky to pull off. Jinyoung doubtfully pulls on the most normal-
looking ones, pairing a turtleneck the shade of Jaebum's hair with overalls of the same colour.

Jaebum's eyes glitter with approval when he steps out. He stands up, reaching over Jinyoung's
shoulder to select an ebony fur stole from the hangers, personally draping it over Jinyoung's
shoulders and tying the shiny ribbon at the front into a bow.

He places his hands on Jinyoung's shoulders to turn him around to face the mirror, meeting his eyes
in their reflections. "You look good enough to eat," he leans down to whisper in Jinyoung's ear,
hands sliding down his ribs, moulding the swell of his hips.

Jinyoung blushes and prays the salesgirls aren't looking. "I look like little red riding hood," he
complains, even as he strokes the sleek fur of the stole like a pet seal, and Jaebum breathes a laugh.
"I can't take it." He looks agonized.

"What?" Jinyoung presses, worried. "Are you not feeling well?"

"Stop being so fucking cute," Jaebum growls, hand closing over his on the fur, pushing it back and
undoing a strap of the overalls, pulling the collar of the turtleneck down with no regard to stretching
it. He latches his mouth to the skin beneath, sucking an exquisitely painful mark into Jinyoung's
collarbone as his hand slips beneath the hem of the turtleneck to flatten against Jinyoung's taut
stomach.

"Hyung!" Jinyoung squeals in dismay. "What's everyone going to say when they see this
tomorrow?"

"They won't," Jaebum assures smugly, selecting from the rack a flimsy collared white button-up,
pressed slacks and a nautical blue angora sweater so short it's almost a crop top. He piles them into
Jinyoung's arms. "Go change."

Jinyoung pushes his lower lip out but plods back into the fitting room. The outfit falls together
surprisingly well, belying Jaebum's faultless taste, and Jaebum's face lights up when he draws back
the curtain to reveal Jinyoung, his eyes shining with pride. "You'll wear this tomorrow," he says
decisively.

Jinyoung tugs at the buttoned collar and looks at his multiple reflections in the surrounding wall of
mirrors. Jaebum studies him like a rare endangered animal until Jinyoung feels his face growing pink.
"Hold on, something's missing," Jaebum frowns, then clicks his fingers. "Accessories."

A salesgirl immediately materializes with disturbing speed smiling brightly and displaying a tray of
assorted bracelets, pendants, rings and cufflinks. Jaebum peruses the selection, but doesn't seem to
find anything he likes.

In the end, he reaches over his own neck to take off the chunky chainlink necklace he's wearing,
lowering it over Jinyoung's head and onto his neck. The chrome feels heavy and cool against
Jinyoung's skin, startlingly intimate. Jaebum steps back to admire his handiwork and looks satisfied.
As a finishing touch, he tugs at the lock of hair over Jinyoung's forehead until it's falling into
Jinyoung's eyes and obscuring his vision.

Jinyoung flips his hair back, then flattens it with a hand. "Don't you think this is a little too much?"
he hesitates.

Jaebum purses his lips. "How so?"

"I don't know..." Jinyoung says diplomatically. I look like a kept boytoy. "It's just not really my
style."

"Uh-uh." Jaebum shakes a finger, looking amused. "Jinyoung-ah, if you want to be my partner, you
have to match up with me. No more t-shirts and sneakers."

"What's wrong with my sneakers?" Jinyoung says defensively. He's particularly proud of his Nike
Air Force 1s. "They're limited edition."

Jaebum's smile widens ferally. "Nothing," he says, lowering his voice and beckoning Jinyoung to
lean forward with his finger, his lips right by Jinyoung's ear. "But I don't like fucking little boys."

Jinyoung ducks back behind the curtain to change back into his uniform of t-shirt, skinny jeans and
scuffed sneakers, which now looks drab and unsophisticated in comparison to the finery he just
donned. His shirt is plain black with a simple design of a small bow tie printed on the chest, and
Jaebum had even complimented it, but now it just looks juvenile and childish. Jinyoung runs his
hand over the creases in the cotton to smooth them out, then on impulse digs into the pile of clothing
he's just tried on, scanning the price tags.

His eyes almost pop out at the exorbitant figures he sees and Jinyoung rubs them, wondering if they
had tagged on an extra zero by accident. He had known these couldn't be cheap, but this is just
insane. He could live on the price of one of these for a month.

He shuffles out of the room with mixed feelings, clutching the bundle of clothing. He doesn't even
bother to try to dissuade Jaebum, who is tapping his feet impatiently, because he knows that it won't
be any use.

"Just two outf--" Jinyoung starts, but Jaebum is already standing up imperially, stretching his long
legs and unfolding his wallet, brandishing his platinum card. "We'll take everything," he says coolly
to the delighted salesgirl.
Jaebum is dressed much more smartly the next day, having come straight from work to drop by
Jinyoung's apartment and pick him up for the event. He's wearing a gunmetal grey suit over a dove
grey waistcoat with pearl buttons today, not a hair out of place as usual.

Darkness has fallen when they reach the venue, a solitary jewel box restaurant atop a grassy hill. The
bright orange light flooding out from the windows signals that the party is already in full swing as
Jaebum pulls the car into the dim parking lot. He opens Jinyoung's door for him and hands him out
with elaborate courtesy, pressing a kiss to his open palm in the shadow of night.

"Why are you wearing eyeliner again?" he says, sounding displeased and Jinyoung gulps. But then
he continues darkly, "I'm going to peel that outfit off you when we get home," and Jinyoung can see
his eyes glowing like lanterns in the luminescent moonlight.

The function hall of the restaurant is festively lit with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and
teeming with people and conversation. Walking in on Jaebum's arm, Jinyoung catches sight of
Jackson and Yugyeom in one of the corners catching up with one of their ex-teammates who had
transferred to another team, Nicholas. At the far end of the buffet spread, Bambam is leaning casually
against the wall with his hair slicked up in an eighties pompadour and trying to impress Min-noona,
his latest crush from their affiliated girls' fencing team.

Jaebum leans down to whisper in his ear that he'll be right back with champagne, and Jinyoung nods
and drifts off alone to start circulating. He bumps fists with a few same-age buddies from other teams
and enthusiastically shakes hands with Jinwoon-hyung, an Olympic medalist who used to mentor
him. Suddenly, he is cornered by an acquaintance from another team that he knows vaguely by face
but not by name, and only because he makes it a point to hit on Jinyoung at the gathering every year.

This year doesn't seem to be an exception, as his eyes run swiftly down Jinyoung's body appraisingly
and his lips curl into a greasy leer. "Working it, Park Jinyoung."

Jinyoung mumbles a perfunctory thanks and greeting, not wanting to let slip that he doesn't
remember the guy's name, and attempts to move on subtly but a hand closes around his arm. "Not so
fast," the guy says softly. "Think you're better than us now just because you have a backer, eh?"

The words hit Jinyoung right where it hurts most, shaking him more deeply than he expected. He
knows that a few rumours have been spreading about him and Jaebum, some people gossiping
behind his back that Jaebum is his sponsor, his sugar daddy. The crass labels rankle but no one has
ever been catty enough to say anything to his face. Until now.

Jinyoung feels the anger surging within him, the burn of shame. He has always taken pride in his
career as an aspiring national fencer, one of the best and most passionate in his team if he says so
himself. It bothers him more than he's willing to let on that people are speculating about him relying
on connections, more skilled at social climbing than fencing.

Jinyoung takes a deep breath and tries to keep his temper in check, prying the guy's clawlike hand
off his arm to no avail. He seems more than a little drunk and the only thing stopping Jinyoung from
giving him a piece of his mind is the worry that they will create a scene and the nagging awareness
that Jaebum is in danger of returning any second now. He can't let Jaebum see this ugly exchange or
shit is going to hit the fan.
The man looks undeterred by Jinyoung's discomfort, instead more aroused as his other hand boldly
grazes Jinyoung's hip, sliding down to cup his ass. "You're so pretty," he whispers, leaning so close
that Jinyoung can smell the alcohol fumes on his breath.

Ironically, it is at this moment that he spots Jaebum in the periphery of his vision, stopping in his
tracks a few paces away as he takes in the scene. In a flash, he has abandoned the glasses of
champagne in his hands on a table and crossed the room in a few large strides. He insinuates himself
between Jinyoung and the man, forcefully wrenching them apart.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Jaebum says, voice dangerously quiet. His eyes are narrowed to
slits and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he gets into the other guy's face, breathing hard.

Jinyoung tugs fearfully at his sleeve, aware that they are attracting an audience. Jackson has noticed
the commotion and is weaving through the crowd, looking concerned.

"Hyung," Jinyoung begs. "It's nothing. Let's go."

Jaebum ignores him, ripping his arm from Jinyoung's grasp to grab the man's collar with both hands,
hauling him forward. The man's face contorts with anger and embarrassment and he draws back a
fist to retaliate, but Jaebum deftly catches his arm in a lockhold and twists it backward with a loud
crack until he's yelling and cursing in pain. Jaebum doesn't let go, and Jinyoung flinches at the cold
cruelty in his eyes as he leans forward to intone, "You ever touch my stuff again, I'll cripple you for
life."

The warning is swift and calm but the unadulterated rage in Jaebum's blazing eyes makes it clear that
he will follow through on it.

Thankfully, Jackson reaches them at this moment, looking freaked out but grabbing Jaebum from
behind and physically hauling him off the guy. "Hyung, cut it out!" he hisses.

The term of address seems to wake Jaebum from his blind fury and he slackens, regaining his senses
as the guy shoots both of them scathing dirty looks and straightens his suit aggressively but doesn't
say anything as he beats a hasty retreat. Jaebum glares after him implacably and effortlessly shakes
Jackson's grip off. "Don't touch me," he snaps in irritation and swivels on his heel, stalking away
without even looking at Jinyoung.

Jackson stumbles back, stunned. Careless of the gaggle of whispering onlookers gathered around
them, Jinyoung's footsteps mirror the shallow beating of his heart as he takes off after Jaebum,
hurrying to catch up.

Jaebum doesn't take any notice of him, striding purposefully into the carpark and unlocking the doors
with a click of his remote. He gets into the driver's seat and slams the door, revving the engine.
Jinyoung hastily grabs the passenger door handle and tumbles in next to him. He's not letting Jaebum
drive alone when he's in such an unstable mood.

As he feared, Jaebum speeds recklessly, vengefully like he's trying to get them both killed and the car
wrapped around a tree. Jinyoung tightens his grip over the sides of his seat and bites his lip as he
endures the journey to Jaebum's apartment.

When they finally arrive, Jinyoung heaves a sigh of relief. He trails at Jaebum's heels mutely as he
takes the elevator up and lets himself into the house, still not acknowledging Jinyoung's presence.
After he has seen Jaebum safely returned home, Jinyoung turns to leave. He had packed his
overnight bag and loaded it into the trunk of Jaebum's car on the way to the party, but guesses that
Jaebum probably doesn't want to see his face right now and needs some space alone to calm down.
But when he's in the doorway, Jaebum's voice stops him from the couch. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Jinyoung replies shortly.

Jaebum laughs humourlessly. "Weren't you supposed to stay here today? Or are you rushing off to
let that sleazebag screw you because he offered you a better deal?"

Jinyoung flinches at the brutal words. His eyes fill with unwanted tears and he turns away
desperately, determined not to let Jaebum see them.

He's still trying to blink them away and compose himself when Jaebum pushes past him, saying
tonelessly, "Stay. I'll go get your bag from the car."

So Jinyoung remains in the house, unable to leave despite his discomfort. Jaebum doesn't say
anything about the prior events, going about his routine of showering and washing up as per normal.
Jinyoung sneaks cautious glances at him when he's not looking, wondering if he has really already
put it behind him. When the time they usually retire to bed comes, Jinyoung lingers on the couch,
inert with dread.

Jaebum stands up and ambles to his bedroom, pausing in the threshold and turning to look at
Jinyoung with a small frown. "Aren't you coming?"

Jinyoung stands up with leaden feet and trudges after him. Jaebum closes the door behind them,
leaning against it as he watches Jinyoung slowly pull his shirt over his shoulders and step out of his
slacks, avoiding Jaebum's eyes as he quickly changes into pajamas. It seems like a lifetime ago now
that Jaebum had promised to peel this very outfit off Jinyoung when they got home.

Jinyoung crawls under the covers and stiffly curls up at the edge of the bed, closing his eyes. He can
feel Jaebum still watching him belligerently from the door with his arms folded across his chest. This
is the most excruciatingly awkward night they've ever been through.

Jinyoung stays motionless as he hears Jaebum's footsteps approach on the floorboards, feels the bed
dip with his weight as he settles down on his side. His hand comes down beside Jinyoung's head and
Jinyoung freezes but Jaebum doesn't touch him, only leaning over him to switch off the bedside
lamp.

Jaebum lies back on the pillow and Jinyoung can feel the heat emanating from his body stretched out
an arm's length away from him, radiating into Jinyoung's back. He feels Jaebum's breath on his neck,
and suddenly his cock is pressing against the back of Jinyoung's ass, hard and erect, throbbing
through his boxers.

"Did you forget that we always have sex on Fridays?" Jaebum whispers, breath hot in his ear.

When Jinyoung doesn't answer, he says more roughly, "Did you?"

"N-no." The word ends in a soft gasp as Jaebum's hand slides audaciously, insultingly up the swell
of his ass and over his hipbones, slipping beneath the waistband of Jinyoung's pajamas and following
the valley of his pelvic bone down to cup his cock.

Jinyoung is instantly, shamefully hard. It's disgraceful how he can't even control his hormones when
he's fighting with Jaebum. It's like his cock is programmed to respond to Jaebum's touch no matter
the place or occasion, regardless of the mood he's in.

Jaebum's fingers close tightly over his cock and Jinyoung thinks he's going to inflict pain but
Jaebum's strokes as he tugs Jinyoung to full hardness are as smooth as usual, his cock growing even
more porcelain hard against Jinyoung's ass, chafing against him urgently.

Jinyoung gives in to his all-overriding need, turning around to give Jaebum easier access. Jaebum
responds cooperatively, lifting his hips as Jinyoung pushes his boxers down, his cock springing free.
By now, Jinyoung is incoherent with delirious want, the pad of Jaebum's thumb pressed against the
head of his cock and rubbing insistently pushing him off the edge. "Please," he manages to rasp.

"Please what?" Jaebum's thumb pauses and Jinyoung nearly screams out in frustration.

"Fuck me," he says, and his voice doesn't sound like himself, wrecked and sultry and wanton.
Jaebum's sharp intake of breath confirms this.

"Who do you want to fuck you?" Jaebum says, voice an octave lower.

"Hyung," Jinyoung sobs, "Jaebum-hyung --" he cries out in surprise and pleasure as Jaebum sinks
into him with one swift thrust, filling him so deeply that Jinyoung can't even move. He is still loose
and lubed from the quick and dirty fuck in the cold shower Jaebum had had to take when they
reached home yesterday from the shopping expedition. Jinyoung had turned the doorknob
tentatively, pushing the door open and venturing into the steamy bathroom when Jaebum was taking
longer than usual only to find him braced against the wall of the shower with one arm, the other
tugging himself off in sloppy strokes as he panted Jinyoung's name. It had been enough to make
Jinyoung instantly hard as a rock.

Jaebum stays buried inside him, his pelvis pressed flushed against the cleft of Jinyoung's ass until
Jinyoung thinks he can't possibly take it a second longer. Then he starts moving, rocking into
Jinyoung with slow, measured thrusts, his movements controlled and restrained. Jinyoung knows that
Jaebum is holding back his strength, can feel it from the tenseness of the tightened muscles in his
shoulders and abdomen and his uneven, laboured breathing. Jaebum is deliberately gentle, as gentle
as always, but this gentleness is mechanical, lacking warmth. Mocking.

Jinyoung surges forward, seeking Jaebum's mouth blindly to contain his shamelessly loud moans, but
Jaebum moves his head and evades his lips deftly as if Jinyoung repulses him, not allowing Jinyoung
anywhere near his mouth even as he drives himself ever harder into Jinyoung. Jinyoung cries out
with miserable pleasure, losing his desire but unable to stop Jaebum from ramming unabatingly into
him. Despite fulfilling his body, this emotionless, passionless sex makes him feel even more hollow.

"Look at me," Jaebum hisses, punctuating the command with a particularly violent thrust that makes
Jinyoung's eyes fly open, hitting that spot that makes him gasp, "Ah!" He realizes that he's zoned out
into a detached state too, his eyes closed and his body limp like a rag doll as if in defiance of
Jaebum's coldness. Jinyoung keeps his eyes open fearfully as Jaebum's grinding takes on a punishing
rhythm, building towards a climax that shakes both of them as Jaebum shatters inside him with a
guttural groan and Jinyoung explodes around him.

Jaebum remains inside him, the aftershocks rippling through his body and Jinyoung realizes that his
arms are wrapped tightly around Jinyoung's shoulderblades in a bruising grip, as if he's afraid
Jinyoung will slip away. His jagged pants fill Jinyoung's ear and Jinyoung's own hands come up
hesitantly, hovering over Jaebum's back when he abruptly pulls out of Jinyoung and rolls off.

Jinyoung lies there staring up at the ceiling, fucked and struggling to catch his breath, heart galloping
as Jaebum turns away to face the edge of the bed, his stiff unyielding back rising like an impenetrable
barrier.

Jinyoung drifts into an exhausted doze, and when he restlessly wakes up again the bedside clock
reads 3.29AM and he's alone in bed. Jinyoung's heart drops as he sits up, looking at the indent of
Jaebum's body in the empty, creased sheets and scrambling out of bed.

He pads out of the room, running a hasty hand through his tousled hair and jumps when he sees
Jaebum sitting in the dark in the living room, his figure silhouetted by the moonlight. An open, half-
full decanter of whiskey sits on the table in front of him.

Jaebum sets down his glass on the table with a clink, the amber liquid sloshing and ice cubes tinkling
against the sides. "Go back to bed," he says brusquely, abandoning his pretense of impassivity. He
seems rattled that Jinyoung has caught him deviating from the routine he had so steadfastly stuck to,
the mask of nonchalance he had slipped on since they reached home.

It's the first hint that Jinyoung has seen of his true feelings, and Jinyoung suddenly wants to see
Jaebum lose control. Jaebum is always so domineering, so sure of himself, so in command. Jinyoung
knows that Jaebum is inexpressive and undemonstrative, emotionally inept. But he is suddenly sick
of Jaebum's inability to express his feelings, punishing Jinyoung with patronizing politeness and
cutting courtesy when he's angry. He would rather Jaebum yell at him and throw a temper tantrum
than hiding it behind this icy, silent hostility.

"Fuck you," Jinyoung says softly.

"Excuse me?" Jaebum looks up sharply, arching an eyebrow.

"Fuck you and your passive aggressiveness," Jinyoung says, louder. "You're a spineless, gutless
coward who can't even admit you're mad at me. Why don't you grow some balls?" He's on a roll, the
repressed dissatisfactions that have been building up for months tumbling out into the open. He
knows he's being deliberately sensational, trying to goad a reaction from Jaebum, disturb his
unflappable calm.

And it works. "If I recall correctly, you seemed to have no problem with my balls the last time you
sucked them." Jaebum's voice is calm but laced with malice, his lip curling into a sneer.

Jinyoung's face flames hotly, relieved for the darkness. "Why don't you hop off your own dick?
You're just a pussy," he spits.

"Shut up," Jaebum lashes out, harsh as the crack of a whip.

Jinyoung flips him the bird with both hands and turns to stalk towards the front door, prepared to
leave in his pajamas at the middle of the night.

"You want to know how I feel?" Jaebum's voice rises. A resounding crash breaks the silence and
Jinyoung turns in shock to see the glass shattered into shards on the floor, whiskey slashed across the
white wall of the living room like spray-painted graffiti. Jaebum's face is ashen, his hands trembling
as though he can't believe what he just did.

Jinyoung stands stock still, reeling with shock as Jaebum buries his face in his hands. His shoulders
slump, looking oddly defeated and Jinyoung struggles between the instinct to flee and the urge to
take a step closer and lay a hand on Jaebum's shoulder.
But then Jaebum lifts his head, his face a smooth blank again, the emotions he displayed a minute
ago magically wiped clean like an eraser on a whiteboard. "Come here, my pet," he says, beckoning
Jinyoung closer with a sinister smile. His voice is deceptively silky, but with a note of steel that
makes the order impossible to defy.

But who is Jinyoung kidding? He's staying because he wants to. He knows with absolute certainty
that Jaebum will be powerless if he walks out, but he had secretly wanted this reaction, known
exactly which buttons to push to make Jaebum implode. But now Jinyoung wonders if he's gone too
far, not knowing about the beast he's unleashed in Jaebum, advancing with equal doses of fear and
morbid fascination.

When Jinyoung is standing a foot away from him, Jaebum rises to his full height, bringing himself to
eye level with Jinyoung. His eyes burn into Jinyoung's. "You want to know how I feel?" he snarls
again, grasping the back of Jinyoung's neck and crushing their mouths together sloppily, teeth
knocking and noses bumping. Jaebum kisses with a savagery that Jinyoung has never felt before, a
ruthlessness that makes the ground fall out from under Jinyoung's feet. His tongue probes brazenly
into Jinyoung's mouth, exploring it thoroughly and ravenously.

Just as abruptly as he had attacked Jinyoung's mouth, Jaebum breaks away, a thread of saliva trailing
lewdly between them as Jinyoung stares dazedly at him, lips parted and seeking, half-lidded eyes
dropping longingly to Jaebum's mouth. Jaebum wipes his lips hard with the back of his hand with a
gesture that makes Jinyoung snap his mouth shut, his face prickling with heat.

He lowers his head and tries to pull away, but Jaebum's grip around his neck tightens like iron and he
wrenches Jinyoung's chin up with his fingers. He cradles Jinyoung's face with both hands as he
captures Jinyoung's mouth with his own again. Jinyoung sighs into the kiss and Jaebum's teeth sink
into his bottom lip as if in warning.

By now Jaebum is panting into his mouth, his hands moving up Jinyoung's thighs to palm his ass,
groping filthily and cupping his hands so Jinyoung's asscheeks fit into the curve of his palms, filling
them. He squeezes tightly with his fingers, spreading them and nudging Jinyoung's oversensitized
asshole.

Jinyoung's hands reflexively lock around Jaebum's neck as Jaebum hitches Jinyoung's legs off the
floor and up around his waist, grinding his cock against Jinyoung's crotch. Supporting Jinyoung's
weight with both hands clasped at the base of his spine, Jaebum carries him to the bedroom, pressing
Jinyoung up against various surfaces on the way to fuck him with their clothes on, rutting against
Jinyoung's increasingly hard cock to seek delicious friction.

When they finally arrive at the bedroom, Jaebum dumps Jinyoung unceremoniously on the bed and
clambers on top of him, pinning him down with the weight of his lower body. Bracing his arms over
Jinyoung, Jaebum fumbles with the buttons of his pajamas, hands shaking and eventually growls in
frustration and rips it down the length. He lowers his mouth to Jinyoung's collarbones, trailing his
tongue down in a blistering path and lapping at his nipples until Jinyoung is writhing in agony.

Jaebum ignores Jinyoung's impassioned pleas, slapping his hand away when Jinyoung tries to touch
his own cock. His own erection is tenting his boxers, the choked rhythm of his breathing telling
Jinyoung that he himself is one touch away from coming. Sure enough, when he reaches out to palm
Jaebum's cock he bucks into Jinyoung's hand and convulses, cursing as he grabs Jinyoung's hand
and presses it against his cock hard until his orgasm ends.

Irate at himself for coming before Jinyoung, Jaebum tugs roughly at the waistband of Jinyoung's
pants and Jinyoung eagerly helps to kick them off. His body is such a live wire, he feels like he could
explode into a million shooting stars at one touch.
But Jaebum deliberately doesn't touch him, aligning himself at Jinyoung's entrance and holding still.
Jinyoung can feel him pulsing hotly against the cleft of his ass, impossibly hard again. He spreads his
legs wider and locks his ankles more insistently over Jaebum's waist, thighs quivering in anticipation,
and Jaebum penetrates him slightly, letting slip a feverish groan at the breach and stretch.

Jinyoung matches his breathing to Jaebum's staccato breaths, and on the third exhale Jaebum slides
deeper into him, hissing at the tight heat. Jinyoung takes a deep breath and tries to unclench his
muscles, letting Jaebum shift a little, the tip of his cock grazing a spot inside Jinyoung that makes him
see fireworks.

"Hyung!" the cry is ripped from him as Jaebum snaps his hips purposefully forward, fucking him
into the bed, slamming into him again and again with a quickening rhythm that has Jinyoung begging
for mercy, but refusing to come this time until Jinyoung tips over the edge and into ecstasy.

When Jinyoung wakes up the next morning and jerks into a sitting position, a jolt of pain shoots from
the lower half of his body up his spine. He almost doesn't notice Jaebum sitting silently in an
armchair in the corner of the room with his legs crossed, fully dressed and smoking like a fiend. The
ashtray on the table beside him is already overflowing with crumpled cigarette butts and ashes.

Jaebum doesn't say anything, just grinds out the cigarette and picks a nonexistent bit of lint off his
suit, gazing at Jinyoung with guarded, unfathomable eyes, like he's waiting to see Jinyoung's next
move. Jinyoung has the sudden thought that he could walk out of here, free and unencumbered, and
Jaebum wouldn't do a thing to stop him. Instead of being liberating, the thought makes him feel
strangely melancholic. He knows Jaebum's behavior the previous night was unacceptable,
unforgiveable. And yet, it no longer surprises Jinyoung. This isn't the first time this has happened,
even though it may be the most memorable. This is just the way they are, the game they play, and
Jinyoung has long since given up trying to make sense of it.

He gingerly swings his feet off the bed and stands up unsteadily, when the low timbre of Jaebum's
voice rings out, catching him by surprise. "What do you want?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Money, a house, a car... I can give you anything you want. Just... stay."

The words are offensive but Jinyoung feels less offended than he should be because Jaebum's voice
is imploring, plaintive, frustrated, helpless, like Jinyoung is the one with the upper hand here. Like
Jinyoung is holding Jaebum's heart in his hands.

Jinyoung walks over to him, hearing Jaebum take a soft breath and draw back uncertainly. When
Jinyoung is standing in front of Jaebum, looming over him, he leans down to place his hand on the
left of Jaebum's chest. Even through the layers of shirt and suit jacket, Jinyoung can feel Jaebum's
heartbeat speeding up. "I want this," he says quietly, holding Jaebum's eyes.

Jaebum recovers a little from his surprise, lips tugging up the faintest bit as he smiles sadly. "It's not
for sale," he says apologetically. "Besides, it's already taken."

"By who?" Jinyoung can't help the undisguised envy in his voice.

Jaebum only looks at him with those profoundly sad eyes and smiles cryptically. "I'll tell you if you
stay."
Jinyoung doesn't hear anything from Jaebum for awhile but is relieved to find him waiting outside
the fencing studio a few evenings later. Without any preamble, he bundles Jinyoung into the car.
"I've got tickets to a piano recital," he says, eyes trained on the road. "We're running late."

"But --" Jinyoung protests weakly. He's in no mood for a concert or listening to music when they
have so much unresolved business between them. "We need to talk," he says firmly, turning to stare
down Jaebum until he meets Jinyoung's eyes.

"Whatever it is, we can talk about it later," Jaebum says appeasingly, swinging the car into the
parking lot. Jinyoung clamps his mouth shut and sulks silently as they hurry into the concert hall.

Strangely enough, the music is not as dampening to his mood as he feared it would be. They have
front row seats, and Jinyoung wonders why Jaebum was so intent on attending this particular recital,
and why he's watching the pianist so unblinkingly. He feels a tiny stab of jealousy at not being the
center of Jaebum's universe for the first time.

Jinyoung puts these negative thoughts out of his mind and closes his eyes, letting the poignant
symphony of beautifully broken chords, dissonance and errant notes wash over him when
approaching the end of the set, the pianist unexpectedly stands up to make a short speech.

"The next and last song is a request by my dear friend and respected hyung, Im Jaebum, for his
lover, Park Jinyoung-sshi. Jinyoung-sshi, Jaebum-hyung has a message for you." He pauses and
looks right at Jinyoung in the audience. "Forgive me."

Jinyoung turns to Jaebum sitting beside him in astonishment, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring
his vision. "You...?" he whispers hushedly.

Jaebum smiles and brushes a tear away with the pad of his thumb. "Listen," he says gently.

The song is the best in the set. Maybe Jinyoung is just being biased because it's dedicated to him, but
the whole hall seems to agree, standing up in a rousing, unequivocal ovation as the pianist bows
deeply at length, his hand on his heart.

Later, Jaebum eagerly leads Jinyoung backstage with their hands intertwined, pushing past the crew
and staff to the waiting room where the pianist is standing, taking off his starched formal suit. His
face melts into a sunny, beaming smile when he sees them. "Hyung!" he rushes forward to thump
Jaebum's back in a bear hug, and Jinyoung watches a little awkwardly.

Jaebum detaches himself breathlessly, chuckling but obviously equally pleased to see the pianist,
who has a charmingly adorable eye smile and is obviously, an exceptionally talented musician.
Jinyoung can't help the involuntary tightening of his gut as he sees how openly and brightly Jaebum
smiles at him. "This is my favourite dongsaeng, Youngjae," Jaebum declares, ruffling his hair and
Youngjae extends a hand, eyes crinkling. "Pleasure. It's great to finally meet you. I've heard so much
about y--" The end of his sentence is muffled by the armlock Jaebum has gathered him in, and
Jinyoung tries not to let his smile slip as he takes Youngjae's hand and pumps it warmly.

"Nice to meet you, Youngjae-sshi."

"Of course!" Jinyoung smiles brightly, and Youngjae whoops as if he's just won the lottery.

Jinyoung wants to ask Youngjae what Jaebum has said about him. The curiosity is killing him, but
Youngjae is too busy exchanging heated whispers in a corner of the room with Jaebum. Jinyoung
slinks towards the couch, totally forgotten as he glumly pops peppermints from the bowl on the table
into his mouth.

I thought I was your favourite, Jinyoung thinks, just a little resentfully as he watches Jaebum's broad
back from across the room, shoulders filling out his suit. Even when Jaebum's eyes are not on
Jinyoung, Jinyoung can't look away from him, not even for a single minute.

As if telepathically sensing his gaze, Jaebum turns around, expression impenetrable, and walks over
to Jinyoung, finally noticing him. But when Jinyoung looks up eagerly, he only says, "Be right back,
going to the washroom," offering a perfunctory smile and stiff pat on Jinyoung's back.

Youngjae drifts over to the couch after Jaebum leaves, settling down heavily beside Jinyoung and
stretching with a drained yawn.

Jinyoung smiles at him. "I really enjoyed the recital. Your music is incredibly moving. Thank you
for... the last song."

Youngjae smiles back sweetly. "You're very welcome! I'm so pleased you enjoyed it. It's no big
deal, honestly. I owe Jaebum-hyung a lot. This is the least I could do."

"What do you owe him?" Jinyoung blurts out curiously.

Youngjae looks surprised, then laughs. "Didn't he tell you? Well, I guess that's just like Jaebum-
hyung. Our parents used to be business partners so we're kind of like childhood friends. When my
family went bankrupt a few years ago, Jaebum-hyung personally paid for me to finish my degree at
Juilliard. I couldn't have gone on studying without his help. And he refuses to accept any repayment
of the debt."

Jinyoung is stunned into silence by this revelation. Jaebum had never said a single thing about it.
Youngjae is right, it's just like him to help others without asking anything in return or any
acknowledgement. It doesn't surprise Jinyoung much because deep down inside, he had known this
about Jaebum all along. He feels a twinge of affection for this generous, warm-hearted man he is in
love with.

"Hyung..." Youngjae hesitates, and Jinyoung looks up questioningly. Youngjae takes a deep breath.
"I don't know what happened between you and Jaebum-hyung, but I do know one thing. Jaebum-
hyung... he loves you very much," Youngjae says meaningfully, covering Jinyoung's hand with his
own and squeezing it.

Jinyoung looks down at Youngjae's hand and then at his earnest, forthright face again, at a loss for
words. "I... I know," he says, swallowing.

The door creaks open and they look up to see Jaebum standing in the doorway, his pleasant smile
faltering when he sees Youngjae and Jinyoung's conjoined hands. "What are you guys doing?" he
smiles, approaching, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Jinyoung and Youngjae quickly let go of each
other's hands.

Youngjae clears his throat and laughs nervously. "Don't worry, hyung," he winks. "I wasn't hitting
on Jinyoung-hyung."
Jaebum looks taken aback, as if he wasn't aware that his possessiveness was so obvious. "I didn't..."
he starts, face colouring.

"Not that he isn't as cute as you told me," Youngjae adds cheekily, sticking out his tongue.

"Come here, you brat --" Jaebum bares his teeth in a menacing growl and pretends to strangle
Youngjae, but his eyes are warm with fond laughter. By now, Jinyoung's face is the same shade of
magenta as the tips of Jaebum's ears. He feels overwhelmingly relieved that Jaebum had apparently
been singing his praises to Youngjae, and can see why Jaebum would dote on a little brother as cute
and cuddly as him.

A hand slips onto his shoulder, rubbing the nape of his neck, and Jinyoung looks up, eyes wide to
see Jaebum standing behind him, his fingers tracing absent circles beneath Jinyoung's collar even as
he continues talking and looking at Youngjae. There is something so intimate about this gesture that
it robs Jinyoung of breath, and it is at that moment that Jaebum finally looks down at him. His eyes
are caressing, his handsome face hopeful. "I'm taking Youngjae out for dinner. Do you want to come
with?"

When Jinyoung nods, Jaebum's eyes disappear into the enormous smile that steals over his face.

It becomes one of those long-running arguments every seasoned couple acquires with the passage of
time -- the kind that is brought up as ammunition during stalemates but forgotten and made up long
before midnight in bed, but even this feels like an accomplishment to Jinyoung, a symbol of pride for
how long their relationship has lasted, how long they've stuck together. It's dumb and foolish and
Jinyoung will never admit it to Jaebum but he loves that they have these secret inside jokes, covert
glances and stifled giggles that when exchanged makes Jackson complain bitterly, exhorting them to
get a room. Once, Jinyoung had never even imagined that they could share anything more than a
whirlwind, dreamlike night. Now, he can hardly wrap his head around the idea of forever.

Jinyoung doesn't know why he's holding out, gets increasingly confused and less certain by the day
exactly what point he's trying to make by staunchly refusing to move in with Jaebum, except that it
has something to do with his dignity. It may seem trivial, but Jinyoung feels that by moving in
completely to literally freeload and be supported by Jaebum, he will be losing an essential part of his
identity.

So Jaebum continues working on him tirelessly, offering rewards and incentives to tempt him into
permanent cohabitation, and Jinyoung tactfully but firmly goes on declining. Occasionally, Jaebum
grows impatient and bitter, his insecurity seeping through the cracks as he demands roughly why
Jinyoung thinks he's too good to live with him. Jinyoung clenches his teeth and counters with more
than a little cutting sarcasm that on the contrary, Jaebum is the one who is out of his league. At these
times, the hurt that flickers across Jaebum's face for an unguarded instant, before it smoothens into
blankness, feels like a dagger between Jinyoung's ribs and he wonders if maybe Jaebum is right and
he is being unnecessarily obstinate.

But after all, it doesn't matter because Jinyoung all but lives in Jaebum's house anyway, except in
name. He spends less and less time at home, his visits back gradually tapering to twice a week, then
once. His clothes and belongings migrate unobtrusively into Jaebum's regal apartment, looking right
at home there. Most importantly, Jinyoung feels like he belongs in Jaebum's house and he knows that
it's nothing short of a miracle that Jaebum manages to make him feel this way.
As he gradually takes on more household chores around Jaebum's house, including the laundry and
hoovering and ironing of Jaebum's clothes, Jinyoung grows familiar with Jaebum's extensive
wardrobe, taking up an entire walk-in closet as big as Jinyoung's old room and arranged by colour,
brand and designer. Jaebum takes pride in his appearance, believing that always being well-groomed
and sharply-dressed is the basic form of respect to his clients and is kind of a neat freak so he keeps
everything militarily organized.

Jinyoung loves running his hands across the row of silken suits, the fabric rustling beneath his
fingers, yielding to his touch and carrying Jaebum's unique, intoxicating scent. He loves it when
Jaebum tugs him playfully into the room to play dress-up, pulling his dress shirts and polos over
Jinyoung's shoulders, buttoning them up carefully and dropping a kiss on his collarbone that makes
him quiver in anticipation. Jaebum's eyes are quietly but confidently possessive as he runs his skilled
hands over every inch of Jinyoung's body, making him gasp and melt against Jaebum's fingers, press
urgently into his palm. They gleam with dark desire at Jinyoung's wanton uninhibition but he merely
presses a frustrating, teasing finger to Jinyoung's lips and murmurs placatingly, "Shhh."

Jinyoung knows Jaebum loves the way Jinyoung looks in his clothes, the way they envelop his
frame and swallow his slighter body, giving him a waiflike and delicate air that drives Jaebum crazy.
He, as well, loves the open adoration in Jaebum's eyes as he stands behind Jinyoung, towering over
him and gazing at both their reflections in the mirror, running his hands down the sides of Jinyoung's
body down to his ass and over the insides of his thighs, spreading them wide with his fingers playing
over Jinyoung's straining cock. He loves to tease Jinyoung till he's begging, whining, completely
undone, catching every fevered moan as it escapes Jinyoung's lips with his own hungry mouth.

Jinyoung loves those decadently lazy weekend mornings when Jaebum doesn't have to work and
they lie hopelessly tangled together in bed till midday, loose and relaxed with lassitude and basking
in that postsex afterglow. Jaebum will take his time to drop butterfly kisses lighter than air from the
shell of Jinyoung's ear down to the backs of his knees, until Jinyoung's entire body is set aflame with
a raging and inextinguishable fire, exploring each other's bodies relentlessly and with an insatiable
curiosity.

But above all, what Jinyoung loves, more than anything, is the baby blue undershirts Jaebum is
clothed in as Jinyoung wakes up next to him in the morning, hundred percent cotton and impossibly
soft under the pads of Jinyoung's fingers as they tighten over the fabric, tugging, slackening. Jaebum
looks uncharacteristically youthful in simple, classic t-shirts, breathtaking in a way that Jinyoung
cannot find the words to describe.

"Good morning, aegi-yah," Jaebum whispers, looking sleepy and contented as he blinks his eyes
open, smile boyish and lazy, voice gravelly. The luminous light streaming through the curtains
warms his sun-kissed skin. When Jinyoung wakes up first to find the hem of Jaebum's threadbare
shirt riding tantalizingly up, revealing a sliver of copper skin, he can't resist trailing a finger over the
sculpted contours of Jaebum's abdomen, edging his shirt up towards the faint line of down until
Jaebum groans and awakes, erection tenting his boxers and eyes glittering with drowsy lust.

When Jackson breaks up with Yugyeom after more than half a year of an on-and-off rocky
relationship, citing irreconciliable differences, it's the fifth time and Jackson swears, the last. He
seems more relieved than heartbroken and Jinyoung shares the sentiment. Jackson and Yugyeom's
relationship had been ill-matched from the start, and it had only been a matter of time before it ran its
course. Despite his immaturity, Yugyeom is a good kid, but he and Jackson had always seemed more
like friends than lovers to Jinyoung.

Still, when they take Jackson out to treat him to fattening post-breakup meals, Jaebum
uncomplainingly foots the bill. He denies it categorically, but Jinyoung suspects that Jackson has
grown on him.

("Like algae," Jaebum snickers and Jinyoung, grossly offended, makes him sleep on the couch that
night.)

Two months later, Jackson meets Mark Tuan -- prettier than a girl, boasting an arsenal of shady pick-
up lines, and almost as rich as Jaebum -- and promptly falls madly in love at first sight. In a freak
coincidence, they discover that Jaebum and Mark used to be childhood acquaintances, as their fathers
had been golf buddies.

"I'd always wanted to reconnect with him," Jaebum confides to Jinyoung thoughtfully. "But I didn't
know he'd come back from Brown."

"Did you study abroad too?" Jinyoung enquires inquisitively, and Jaebum nods but looks
embarrassed for some reason.

"Where? What did you major in?"

"Business management at NYU," Jaebum admits, "but I dropped out after my second year."

That explained why it seemed to be a kind of sensitive subject, and Jinyoung fleetingly wonders why
but decides that Jaebum will tell him if he wants to. Jaebum looks relieved when he tactfully changes
the conversation topic.

No matter how dubious Mark's character remains to Jinyoung, he's glad for Jaebum that he managed
to find a friend he'd lost touch with. He pictures Jaebum as a sullen teenager, impossibly young but
already a heartbreaker, immaculately outfitted in Ralph Lauren polos and Lacoste loafers, sitting
opposite Mark at a table in the golf course while their fathers played and trying to make awkward
conversation.

Jinyoung giggles to himself, and Jaebum gives him an indulgent look. "What's so funny?" he queries
but Jinyoung just presses his lips together and shakes his head.

Subsequently, the foursome start gathering together on unofficial double dates more often, usually at
the exclusive country club Jaebum and Mark are VIP members of that is reputed in the country for
admitting only the offspring of scions and the elite, membership only accessible by being inherited
from previous generations.

Jackson is predictably blinded by the glamour and privilege, and Jinyoung can't help being
reluctantly impressed by the grandeur of the facilities too. They spend the summer in mostly
comfortable camaraderie occasionally punctuated by idle chitchat as they shoot the breeze and
sunbathe by the Olympic-sized outdoor pool under the waving fronds of palm trees. Mark throws his
shirt gruffly over Jackson's bare torso after the fifth girl that walks by ogles him blatantly and flashes
him a nice view of her bikini-clad cleavage and Jaebum laughs loudly.

Jackson and Jinyoung have noticed a subtle ongoing rivalry between Jaebum and Mark, friendly but
competitive nonetheless. However, Jaebum and Mark deny any of the sort, easily calling each other
their best friends. Jinyoung and Jackson shrug and give up on understanding their strange, long-lost
reunited childhood friends dynamic.

Back to the point, they are amused to note that Jackson seems to be the most popular with the ladies,
probably because of his outgoing loudness and expendable charm. In the past, Jackson would lap up
the attention, eating it up with a spoon and glorifying in it. He flirted mercilessly and broke hearts
even more actively, but Jinyoung has observed a nebulous but definite change in him ever since he
met Mark. Impossibly, Jackson has become more sensitive and sentimental, more soft edges than
sharp angles.

The most drastic transformation, however, is his docility. If Jinyoung hadn't witnessed it with his
own two eyes, he would never have believed that Jackson would ever smile submissively and say,
"Yes, ge. Sorry, ge." when Mark ticked him off for flirting with the pool guy, Sungjae and teasing
cute blushing Youngji at Reception. Jinyoung had never thought he'd live to see the day but maybe,
just maybe, Jackson had finally found the person who made him willing to settle down.

"The Taming of the Shrew," Jaebum quips, showing off his English. "I guess even Jackson had to
meet his match someday," he gloats.

"... Did you just call Jackson a shrew?" Jinyoung gasps, scandalized, and Jaebum hurriedly
backpedals.

The four of them are an unlikely, mismatched group, but somehow, miraculously, they play off each
other's differences and manage to enjoy one another's company. Jackson and Jinyoung's extroverted
personalities balance Jaebum and Mark's more introverted ones, and their respective longtime
friendships between the younger and elder pairs evaporate any lingering awkwardness. Jackson and
Mark bicker less around them, and Jaebum enjoys having an audience, taking on the sardonic,
assertive greaseball personality he adopts around his friends when they are all together.

By now, Jinyoung has learnt to accept the different facets of Jaebum's personality, come to terms
with both the brooding, reserved side that he reveals to Jinyoung and the mischievous prankster that
comes out in Mark and Jackson's company. Jinyoung knows that Jaebum likes to show off and
throw his weight around to impress them, and he agreeably indulges Jaebum when he starts
preening. He knows better than anyone that Jaebum hides deep sensitivity behind crass humour and
a warm heart behind cool words.

Jinyoung knows that Jaebum has him wrapped around his little finger when even Jaebum's frequent
and inexplicable possessiveness ceases to bother him. Jinyoung knows that Jaebum has a jealous
streak as wide as a five-lane blacktop, and it can be tiresome at times to have to extinguish the flames
of his wrath. But when they both agree to take a step back, the problem doesn't seem as major.
Jaebum is slowly but surely learning to give him his own space, and Jinyoung is training him into his
ideal man, one baby step at a time.

On Jinyoung's twenty-sixth birthday, Jaebum leads him with a blindfold over his eyes into the middle
of nowhere and when Jinyoung takes it off, his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets to find himself
standing beside the propellers of a compact, slate grey plane on a landing strip.
"This is my private jet," Jaebum explains casually, and Jinyoung proceeds to hyperventilate. "Why
didn't you tell me you had a private jet earlier?" he yelps.

Jaebum rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I forgot. Besides, I wanted to give you a surprise." He
grins wickedly and swings Jinyoung breathlessly into the cockpit. "Do you want me to teach you
how to fly?"

Jinyoung muffles a peal of laughter. "That sounds like one of Mark-hyung's cheesy pick-up lines,"
he tells Jaebum, and he guffaws. "Busted," Jaebum says, eyes dancing with mischief. "I learnt it
from him."

("By the way..." he adds offhandedly later, the bass of his voice filling Jinyoung's ears through the
inflight headphones, "You're not allowed to call anyone hyung except me.")

Rome, Milan, Vienna. Jaebum whisks Jinyoung on an epic, whirlwind tour of the three exotic cities,
but Jinyoung's most lasting memory from the trip turns out to be the sunrise Jaebum shows him at an
altitude of seven thousand feet, floating in time and space unanchored for a moment above the cloud
forests. It's just a blush of the fluffy white clouds really, a dusting of peony pink that is so soft, so
ephemeral that it makes Jinyoung want to cry. When he looks over at Jaebum, he sees that very blush
reflected on the apples of his cheeks like a sunrise, his eyes as he takes in Jinyoung surprised, afraid,
falling.

It's been a year since he met Jaebum, and Jinyoung is still devastatingly in love with him.

"You deserve a guy like Mark," Jinyoung tells Jackson, reading his best friend like a book the
moment he starts self-doubting. It's so obvious to him, to everybody that Mark and Jackson are a
match made in heaven, as compatible as two adjoining pieces of a puzzle designed specifically to fit,
but Jinyoung wonders why it's not as easy to make himself believe the same words when Jackson
echoes them back to him.

The day Jackson stumbles into their apartment, blubbering incoherently and dripping tears
unstoppably like a faulty faucet, Jinyoung's heart sinks like a stone.

"What happened?" he asks with consternation, and the two words are all Jackson needs to start
bawling.

"I -- broke -- up -- with -- Mark," he manages to choke out between breathless sobs.

Jinyoung's stomach drops. "Oh, shit." His head spins dizzyingly. "What... why...?" is all he can say.
Jackson had been spending more and more time at Mark's house lately, and Jinyoung had taken it as
a sign that things were going well, too preoccupied with his own relationship with Jaebum to confirm
his assumption with Jackson. And it had proven to be wrong.

"We've... been... having... problems," is all Jackson will say. He drags his feet to his room and
barricades himself behind the door, refusing to open it or come out for dinner no matter how many
times Jinyoung calls.
Feeling powerless, Jinyoung sends a short SOS text to Jaebum. Within twenty minutes, Jaebum is
ringing their doorbell and Jinyoung rushes to let him in with a crashing wave of relief.

Jaebum takes him wordlessly into his arms and immediately lifts the burden off Jinyoung's shoulders,
assessing the situation and putting Jinyoung's worries to ease. He calms Jinyoung with clear, gentle
instructions and Jinyoung thankfully hurries to follow them, admiring how Jaebum is unfailingly his
rock in every crisis.

First, Jaebum orders Jinyoung to prepare dinner and feed himself. "You can't take care of Jackson if
you fall sick," he says, running a hand over Jinyoung's forehead.

After Jinyoung has eaten as much as his poor appetite will allow, Jaebum raps calmly on Jackson's
door. "Jackson-ah," he calls in a cajoling voice. "You have to eat something. There's a tray of food
outside your door. If you take it in, I'll call Mark."

They exchange wary glances, unsure if this will work. But sure enough, within five minutes, the
door opens a tiny crack and Jinyoung catches a glimpse of Jackson's tear-stained face before he
whisks the tray in and shuts the door tightly again.

Jaebum sighs and shakes his head, fishing out his phone. His brows are knitted in distress and
Jinyoung feels immensely relieved once again that he has Jaebum to rely on, or he would be utterly
helpless in this situation.

Jaebum presses the phone to his ear and scuffs his shoe against the carpet, waiting. After a few
minutes, he pulls it back to stare dejectedly at the screen. "He's not answering."

"Try again," Jinyoung urges, and he obliges.

They call Mark's phone continuously like a pair of annoying stalkers until the line finally connects
and Jaebum's face lights up, holding a finger to his lips as he says with false breeziness, "Mark-yah?
Where are you?"

But his smile fades as he listens to the answer, and after a few seconds he hangs up again, muttering,
"Damn."

"What did he say?" Jinyoung presses.

Jaebum shakes his head grimly. "He's drunk out of his mind. I'm worried... I've got to go check on
him."

"You have to stay here," Jaebum says, pressing a brief kiss to Jinyoung's forehead, and as much as
Jinyoung wants to follow, he knows Jaebum is right.

"I'll be right back," he promises, then swears under his breath. "What a mess."

But Jaebum doesn't come back that night because Mark has disappeared from the house before he
gets there, and they spend the rest of the night sick with worry as Jaebum combs all of Mark's usual
haunts. He only finds him early the next morning, passed out on the doorstep of Jaebum's apartment
and bruised and battered from getting into a brawl with some homeless thugs.

"This sucks," Jinyoung says flatly when Jaebum calls him to deliver the news. He glares at Jackson's
bedroom door, which is still firmly shut. If only Jackson wasn't such a drama queen, Jinyoung is sure
this wouldn't have happened. Sometimes Jinyoung wishes he could just wash his hands of him.

"I know," Jaebum agrees sympathetically, his voice achingly familiar over the phone, and Jinyoung
wishes they could just elope and leave this dysfunctional couple to sort things out themselves, but he
knows that's not going to happen. When Jinyoung was heartbroken, Jackson has always been there
for him. Jinyoung has a responsibility towards him.

"How's Jackson holding up?" Jaebum asks, concerned. "Take care of him, okay? Gotta go, Mark's
waking up. I'll try to come over... later," he says vaguely.

"Mmmkay," Jinyoung hums reluctantly. Just before he hangs up, Jaebum says, "Oh, and Jinyoung-
ah..."

Jinyoung presses the phone to his ear as Jaebum's voice flows through it, steady, reassuring. "Take
care of yourself too."

Jinyoung passes on the latest update to Jackson, or more precisely reports it through the door. He has
no idea whether Jackson hears it or what he thinks because he doesn't reply. Jinyoung gives up and
slopes around the house, halfheartedly preparing breakfast for Jackson. He has no appetite but then
remembers Jaebum's words from last night, and manages to eat a little.

After washing the dishes, Jinyoung calls in sick to practice for Jackson and himself and slumps down
on the couch, staring blankly at Jackson's door and the tray of untouched food on the floor. He can
bet that Jackson is on the opposite side, staring as equally despondently at his door. If only he would
stop making everything more difficult than it had to be and just come out so they could talk things
over. Jinyoung shakes his head in exasperation and clicks his tongue at Mark and Jackson's
unhealthy relationship. But then a thought pops into his mind: How would he feel if he and Jaebum
broke up?

Just the thought of losing Jaebum sends a piercing stab of pain through Jinyoung's chest so powerful
it feels like a physical blow. Shaken, he reconsiders his conviction that he would be dealing with this
any better than Jackson in his place.

A few depressing days drag past with no further progress. Mark and Jackson are both obstinate as
mules, refusing to be the first one to concede defeat. "It's the end," Jackson tells Jinyoung bleakly,
while Mark only sobs repeatedly into Jaebum's shoulder, "Jackson will never forgive me."

Jinyoung is a little shocked by how inconsolable Jackson is. None of his previous breakups had
caused him so much grief. In the face of even messier separations, Jackson had always remained
blandly cavalier, never losing his grip. Jinyoung had thought he was bulletproof, invincible. But
maybe he's finally found the person who is his undoing, who knows how to get past the chinks in his
armor.

He wonders what exactly it is about Mark that is different from all Jackson's previous boyfriends,
what has Jackson head over heels and acting so completely un-Jacksonlike. Sure, Mark is hands
down the richest and most gorgeous man Jackson has ever dated, but that can't be it. Jinyoung thinks
that maybe they have an unseen connection on the level of their souls, a red thread of destiny
connecting them that no one else can see.

In the next few days, Jackson sheds enough tears to fill up an ocean, but at least he obediently
demolishes the trays Jinyoung serves him and comes out of his room once, if only just to
categorically forbid Jinyoung to answer the house phone.

So Jinyoung hauls his ass to work and makes excuses for Jackson's absence, ignores the phone
ringing off its hook and communicates with Jaebum through hasty text messages. Because Mark has
been staying at his house, Jaebum has been rather busy the past few days and they haven't had an
opportunity to meet.

Jinyoung doesn't understand how two people could be so near and yet so far away, kept apart by the
insurmountable distance between their broken hearts. The possibility of Mark and Jackson making
up is starting to get less and less hopeful with each passing day, and Jinyoung feels like his parents
have just told him they're getting divorced. Jackson and Mark were such an ideal couple. Jinyoung
had secretly admired their easy banter, their wordless volumes of conversation and obvious delight in
each other. If they couldn't even stay together, what were his and Jaebum's chances?

A week later, Jackson exits his room with puffy eyes and panda-like eyebags. "I'll drive you to
practice tomorrow," he announces with zero intonation, sounding freakily like a robot.

Jinyoung's heart leaps with hope, and he smiles encouragingly. "Awesome! The team misses you.
But maybe... I should drive instead?"

"I'll drive," Jackson replies in the same monotone.

"Ookay... What... what about Mark?" Jinyoung ventures delicately, and Jackson looks at him
vacantly.

"Mark who?"

In the end, Jinyoung calls Jaebum to drop by on his way to work to pick them up. Jackson doesn't
bother to put up much of an argument, looking worryingly pale and wan as they ride in awkward
silence. He has lost weight visibly since the previous week and Jinyoung silently frets.

As they can't talk about it in front of Jackson, Jaebum texts him later to let him know that Mark has
returned to his own apartment and that Jinyoung can come over after practice if he wants to.
Jinyoung's chest flutters at the message, but he can't help feeling that Jaebum is just going through
the motions and secretly wants to be alone.

He texts back an ambiguous "Okay," but his heart only starts beating normally again when he walks
out after practice to see Jaebum leaning against his car, smiling crookedly, eyes filled with quiet
missing.

Days become weeks, and weeks become months. Jinyoung becomes resigned to the painful fact of
Jackson and Mark's breakup, but Jackson never completely becomes himself again, drifting restlessly
around the house like a ghost and looking grouchy and subdued. He snaps irritably at everything
Jinyoung does and Jinyoung hasn't seen him crack a smile even once since the incident. He can only
imagine how little better Mark must be faring.

Jinyoung hates feeling like he has to take sides between Jackson and Mark, who has unconsciously
crept into his heart and who Jinyoung now regards as one of his closest friends. He knows Jaebum
feels equally torn but he does a good job of showing concern for Jackson, even taking the initiative
to send him silly knock-knock jokes which Jackson reads out to Jinyoung without laughing.

Jinyoung wants to send Mark an encouraging message too, but he's too embarrassed and has no idea
what to say. Instead, Mark is the one who reaches out to him. One morning a couple of weeks later,
he gets a text that simply reads, "Help me look after him." Jinyoung knows he should ignore it out of
loyalty to Jackson, but he can't bring himself to be rude enough not to reply, "OK. Don't worry."

Jaebum proposes to him on Valentine's day on the deck of his yatch, on the very spot they met
almost a year and half ago. He had caught Jinyoung absolutely clueless and unprepared, inviting him
over in the guise of a sleepover to cheer Jinyoung up and spend some long overdue alone time
together, and all Jinyoung can think as Jaebum goes down on bended knee in front of him, looking
up at Jinyoung with his heart in his eyes, is that he's dressed in his most unflattering Hamtaro
pajamas and his hair looks like a bird's nest.

But as Jaebum gazes up adoringly at him, the self Jinyoung sees reflected in his eyes is perfect,
flawfree. "If you say no, I'm going to jump off the boat," Jaebum vows in jest, but Jinyoung can hear
a degree of frightening seriousness in his words.

"Don't you dare!" he cries, grabbing the ring from Jaebum faster than the blink of an eye and
jamming it onto his finger with trembling hands.

"Yah!" Jaebum yells, looking positively furious. "I'm supposed to put it on for you! How can you be
so unromantic?"

Jinyoung blinks dazedly and looks from the ring on his finger to Jaebum's crestfallen face. "Oops."

Jaebum looks like he's about to cry. Jinyoung hastily pulls the ring off and puts it back in the box.
"Let's redo it, okay?" he coaxes, muttering under his breath, "It's your fault for threatening me first."

Jaebum gapes up at him with limpid, mournful eyes and Jinyoung loses patience. "For God's sake!"
he says roughly. "Don't be a baby. It's just a proposal."

"Just a proposal?" Jaebum's voice rises an octave, sounding close to hysteria.

"I mean, a really important proposal," Jinyoung amends in exasperation, at his wits end. When he
crouches down to help Jaebum up, he suddenly finds himself pinned beneath Jaebum on the deck,
Jaebum's face looming over his, that nefarious smile curving his eyes into crescents. "GOTCHA!" he
crows with immature glee.

"W-what?" Jinyoung stutters, stunned. Jaebum emits a throaty cackle, before his eyes grow serious.
"I've wanted to fuck you right on this very spot since the day I saw you standing here," he says
hoarsely.

"... Since the first day?" Jinyoung croaks, and Jaebum's eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"Even then."

The sky swirls in undulating spirals of depthless periwinkle interspersed by wispy clouds as Jaebum
pushes in and out of him, filling him entirely as he tries to time his thrusts, keep the pace controlled.
The only sounds breaking the silent serenity are Jaebum's ragged breathing and the gentle lapping of
waves against the side of the boat. From this angle, the sky is a sparkling topaz that almost hurts in its
clarity, and Jinyoung knows instinctively that this is one of those moments that he'll never forget for a
lifetime -- Jaebum fucking him slowly and sweetly into the hard, unforgiving wooden floorboards of
the deck, dragging out the precious heartbeats into little eternities until they reach inevitable orgasm.

"I'm sorry for pressuring you just now," Jaebum says so softly he can barely make out the words
later as they sprawl on the deck, wrecked and spent, Jinyoung's head cradled in the crook of
Jaebum's arm. "It's just that... I was worried you'd say no."

Jinyoung cranes his neck to look up at Jaebum's expression, but Jaebum covers his eyes. "Don't look
at me," he says, voice cracking, but it only makes Jinyoung more curious. What kind of face is
Jaebum making right now?

But then Jaebum's voice flows into his ears, sharpened by his obscured vision, and Jinyoung can see
his face in his mind's eye with crystalline clarity. It's right there in his voice, undisguised and
unguarded -- the insecurity, the hope, the raw exposed passion.

"Im Jaebum, you dumbass," he says, his own voice catching in a sob. "How could you... how could
you even doubt for one minute that..." He trails off uncertainly, and Jaebum's hand slackens over his
eyes.

When Jinyoung opens them, Jaebum is peering at him with unchecked curiosity. "That...?" he
prompts, holding his breath.

"That I would say yes, you idiot," Jinyoung laughs, attacking him in a fierce hug.

Jaebum suffers Jinyoung's embrace patiently until Jinyoung starts rubbing his body against Jaebum's
like a dog in heat.
"Oh, fuck," Jaebum hisses sharply. "God help me, I won't be responsible for what happens if you
keep doing that," he warns.

Jinyoung continues humping his leg mercilessly, but Jaebum regains control of himself with a great
effort, gently detaching Jinyoung and kissing away his needy whines. "You're still sore," he
whispers. "And I have something to ask you."

"What?" Jinyoung whimpers, confused.

Jaebum takes a deep breath. "I know you're independent," he starts, with a tone Jinyoung isn't sure
he cares for. He opens his mouth to say so when Jaebum continues in a rush, "... But can I move in
with you?"

The words die on Jinyoung's tongue, stupefied. "You..." he clamps down a peal of hysterical
laughter. "You want to move into my apartment?" he clarifies, not sure he heard correctly.

Jaebum runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "What else can I do? Do you want to continue living
seperately, even after marriage?"

Jinyoung pretends to consider it seriously. "The apartment is quite small," he says, a teasing note in
his voice.

"I don't care."

"And Jackson is around."

"I just want to live with you."

The straightforward, frank confession is the one that does Jinyoung in, and he finds himself laugh-
sobbing, "I'll move in with you."

"Really?" Jaebum gasps. "What did you just say?" He makes Jinyoung repeat the promise two more
times, then springs to his feet and heaves Jinyoung up into his arms, spinning him in wild dizzy
circles while laughing exultantly. Jinyoung feels his heart swell with warmth that he has the power to
make Jaebum so happy with a gesture as simple as that.

He thinks of lovingly ironed work shirts with their collars turned in, the scent of lavender fabric
softener, communal cutlery and ceramic plates and waking up to the aromas of brewing coffee and
Jaebum clumsily making breakfast in the morning.

A lifetime of domesticity with Jaebum... it doesn't seem like such an unappealing idea after all.

That night, after the excitement of the proposal fades, Jaebum falls asleep on Jinyoung's shoulder,
tired out from the rounds of lovemaking. Jinyoung tosses and turns, listening to the lullaby of the
rocking boat and chirping crickets. He feels bad towards Jaebum, knowing he should be focusing
wholeheartedly on the wedding preparations right now and being a dutiful bridegroom to Jaebum,
but he can't help his nagging worry. Is it right for him to be this happy when Jackson is still cut up
over the breakup?

Jinyoung is morose and contemplative for the rest of the weekend, and he tries to hide it behind
cheerfulness around Jaebum, but he sees through Jinyoung in a heartbeat.
"Hey," he says quietly, reaching out to lace their fingers together. "It's okay, you know. You don't
have to pretend in front of me."

Jinyoung is nonplussed at first, then heaves a sigh of relief.

Jaebum frowns, seeming deep in thought for a few moments, before he finally says decisively, "I
know how to fix this."

"... You do?" Jinyoung hardly dares to believe his ears.

Jaebum nods gravely and lets out a heavy exhale, closing his eyes. "I have this voicemail from
Mark... it might change Jackson's mind if he hears it. I promised Mark not to let anyone else hear it,
but... it's breaking my heart to see you so torn up." Jaebum worries his lip regretfully, and Jinyoung
quickly touches his hand to ease his tension.

"Thank you," he whispers gratefully, knowing how much Jaebum is bending his own stringent
principles for Jinyoung by betraying his friend's confidence.

"Why is this so important to you?" he wonders, studying Jaebum's serious face closely.

Jaebum smiles and answers without hesitation. "Because it's important to you," he says simply.

("Chicks before dicks and all that, yeah?" he wisecracks upon seeing Jinyoung getting dewy-eyed
and promptly ruining the moment.

Jinyoung pokes him hard. "That doesn't even make sense. A) The saying is dicks before chicks. B)
Are you calling me a chick? C) Are you saying I don't have a dick?"

Jaebum is too busy rolling around with laughter to reply.)

As Jaebum guessed, the voicemail seems to strike a chord with Jackson, making him dissolve into a
tearful and emotional mess again. Pleased and relieved with the results, Jinyoung watches the
epiphany strike Jackson like a lightning bolt, and for the first time in more than a month he
miraculously sees Jackson crack a watery smile through his tears.

Hope sparks in Jinyoung's chest like fireworks. Maybe everything is going to be okay after all.

Santorini, Greece has the bluest skies Jinyoung has ever seen in his life, the only thing bluer than
them the turquoise ultramarine of the Aegean sea reflecting their splendour. The island is darling,
paved with cobblestone streets and weathered, crumbling Roman architecture with centuries of
history. It's the perfect place to register their marriage and say their vows.

The plane touches down at the airport at 9AM Grecian time, and they take a ferry to the island where
Jinyoung, Jaebum, Mark and Bambam embark on a impromptu tour guided by Jaebum, the only one
who has been here before. Jackson had declined to go, claiming jet-lag and retiring early to his hotel
room, but Jinyoung knew he just wanted to avoid awkward encounters with Mark. He sensed that
Jackson had already forgiven Mark, but didn't know how to admit it without his pride getting in the
way.

Jinyoung tunes out the white noise of Mark and Bambam jostling in the backseat of the rental car and
sticks his head out of the open window of the passenger seat, letting the Athens sun bathe his
upturned face and the breeze run fingers through his hair, carrying a scent of sea salt from the far-off
ocean. From behind the wheel, he catches the glance Jaebum casts at him before donning oversized
sunglasses, proprietary and achingly proud, all at once, a glance that makes Jinyoung's heart soar
weightlessly. If he had any remaining reservations, he feels them taking flight with the wind, leaving
him with the unshakable conviction that he wants to spend the rest of this lifetime alongside Jaebum.

How long was a lifetime, anyway? Jinyoung can't imagine any measure of time that would suffice to
be together with Jaebum, not even forever. He snaps photographs of Jaebum framed by the infinite
blue of the bay, hair teased messily by the wind and laughing with such carefree abandon that
Jinyoung's heart contracts; Jaebum haggling in broken Greek with the storekeepers at roadside stalls
over the price of a bracelet of lapis gemstones which he will later shyly clasp over Jinyoung's wrist;
Jaebum looking right at Jinyoung, eyes yearning as they joined a cluster of tourists around the ruins
of an ancient temple and listened with vague comprehension to the tour guide rhapsodizing in
English about Plato's philosophies and Greek mythology.

That evening, Mark treats them all to dinner at a beachfront cafe. They stuff themselves with fresh
seafood and Greek salad with croutons and an abundance of wine until night has fallen. Mark looks
incomplete without Jackson beside him, a lost, forlorn look in his eyes like he's missing a limb.
Jaebum catches him watching Mark sadly and squeezes his hand reassuringly under the table.
Everything's going to work out, says his quiet smile, and Jinyoung smiles and squeezes back.

The next morning, Jinyoung and Jaebum nearly oversleep and miss their own wedding. Jinyoung
wakes up disorientedly to the sound of running water and peers blearily through the ajar bathroom
door to see Jaebum shaving at the sink.

Jinyoung swings his feet over the edge of the bed and climbs off, wrapping the comforter around his
bare body like a cloak and dragging it on the floor as he pads to the bathroom. He giggles to see that
Jaebum is having a bad hair day, and licks his palm, flattening it over the untameable cowlicks in
Jaebum's lustrous hair.

When Jaebum sees Jinyoung over his shoulder in the mirror, he jumps visibly. "Fuck!" he curses,
dropping the razor and Jinyoung is dismayed to see blood beading at a nick on his unshaven cheek.
"Hyung! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jaebum says quickly, laughing self-consciously. He apologizes. "I'm kind of a
nervous wreck."

Jinyoung kisses the cut lightly and sits him down at the edge of the bathtub. "I'll help you," he says,
and Jaebum tries not to smile as Jinyoung carefully runs the razor below the flow of tap water, then
guides it through the foam on Jaebum's jaw.

"Don't move," Jinyoung warns, and Jaebum freezes meekly, but the minute Jinyoung is done
Jaebum's hands span his ass possessively and lift him into a sitting position on the sink. Jinyoung
giggles in surprise, wrapping his legs around Jaebum's waist like a koala and locking his ankles
together behind Jaebum's back. Jaebum's breathing quickens as he nuzzles sloppily into Jinyoung's
neck, seeking his lips but Jinyoung turns his head and pulls away. He knows that once they get
started, Jaebum will get carried away and Jinyoung won't be able to resist him. "We're already late,"
he hisses as Jaebum growls low in his throat and grinds his crotch against Jinyoung's thigh in futile
frustration.

Jaebum wins in the end, compromising on a quick and dirty handjob, over in seconds as he comes
fast and hot over Jinyoung's fingers, eyes squeezed shut and breathing coming in short bursts.
Jinyoung rinses his hand and presses a loving kiss to Jaebum's temple, inhaling the scent of his
shampoo. He can only hope that this surrender doesn't set a precedent for their marriage, but
Jinyoung looks at Jaebum's guileless, satisfied smile and wonders who is he kidding because let's be
real, he will never be able to say no to Jaebum.

Minutes before the ceremony, Jinyoung catches sight of Mark meandering around the church looking
like a lost sheep and scanning the crowd with pathetically eager eyes for Jackson. Jinyoung rolls his
own eyes and ducks out of the dressing room where he's trying to tame his unruly bangs with
hairspray to drag Mark in.

"W-what's up?" Mark stammers, blinking at him nervously.

Jinyoung heaves a disgusted sigh. "You look like roadkill," he says bluntly.

"I feel like it," Mark confesses miserably.

Jinyoung punches his shoulder. "Snap out of it! You can't look this awful. He'll know how awful
you feel."

"... Oh." Clarity dawns on Mark's face. He attempts to square his shoulders, inject some life into his
eyes and pinch some pink into his pale cheeks, tries on a cringingly weak smile that looks more like a
frightful grimace. Seriously, asking him to smile is like asking him to swallow glass. "Hate to break it
to you, but you look constipated."

That elicits a bark of laughter from Mark, who looks as surprised by it as Jinyoung. "Hey, that wasn't
bad," Jinyoung motivates. "Try it again."

Mark quirks his lips up tentatively in a rueful smile, slightly more natural than before, and Jinyoung
bites his lip, softening. "Err... I suppose that'll do."

He glances at the clock on the wall. Time is running out. Jinyoung shoos Mark out of the dressing
room to tidy his appearance one last time, but not before he gives Mark two thumbs up. "Good
luck," he winks, thinking of what Mark had confided in Jaebum and Jinyoung that he was planning
to do when they announced their wedding.

The thought of this seems to terrify and thrill Mark in equal measure. He looks like he might throw
up any moment but puts on a brave, wistful smile, and Jinyoung can maybe understand a little why
Jackson is so smitten with this smarmy, charmingly awkward pretty boy. "Thanks," Mark says
simply, and doubles back to pop his head in the door after leaving. "Oh, and Jinyoung-ah?"

"Yeah?"

"I forgot to tell you... you look absolutely gorgeous today," Mark mumbles sweetly, sending him a
salute.
When the heavy cathedral doors creak open before his knocking knees, Jinyoung sees a sea of
smiling, unconditionally supportive faces bathed in pristine white light. He spots Jaebum's and his
families, Jackson and Mark sitting in different pews but gazing at them with the same brotherly
affection, his eyes finally drifting to to very front of the church to find Jaebum, standing just a
journey of less than twenty steps away, looking like an extraterrestrial prince in his dashing ivory
suit, a white rose pinned to his lapel, his heartbreaking smile too beautiful to be true.

Jinyoung clutches the small bouquet of forget-me-nots to his chest with trembling fingers, making his
shaky way down the aisle to catcalls of rousing support and the music box tinkling of a distant piano.
Jinyoung can hear Bambam's squeaky voice cheering, "Rock on, hyung!" and it makes him smile
through the prickle of tears. Youngjae had been majorly bummed not to be able to attend because he
was on tour, but he had generously sent them a recording of the piece Jaebum had dedicated to
Jinyoung at the recital.

The hauntingly sweet melody fills the air, bringing with it fragmented memories from the past two
years since the day he had met Jaebum. Jinyoung thinks of his first, deplorably poor impression of
Jaebum and the other sides of him he had since discovered, how he had chosen to trust Jaebum
unconditionally despite his misgivings and how Jaebum had proven his choice to be the right one,
each and every day.

Jinyoung has never met a person like Jaebum -- offensively, unimaginably rich; the degree of his
wealth only matched by his expansiveness and magnanimity; his aggression tempered by unexpected
gentleness and sensitivity; his lopsided smile capable of transforming from villianous to utterly artless
in the blink of an eye. Jinyoung likes that he has to work hard to earn Jaebum's smiles, but when he
succeeds, the full-fledged, million-watt grin he is rewarded with makes all the effort worth it. The
whole world knows that Jaebum is monetarily wealthy, but Jinyoung is the only one who knows is
that compared to that, Jaebum has an even more enormous wealth of love to share. Even after so
long, just by eyeballing him from head to toe, Jaebum can still make Jinyoung feel thoroughly
fucked.

If there was a drug called Im Jaebum, Jinyoung would be the addict with the most lethal addiction.

All those misunderstandings and missed chances, violently angry quarrels and even angrier make-up
passion. Those iridescent moments of immeasurable sweetness and heart-wrenching happiness, the
wonders they had seen together and the terrors they had been through together. The initial, heart-
skipping days that Jinyoung had collected like pearls on a string, painstakingly, one by one.
Sometime along the way while he was unaware, Jinyoung had fallen terrifyingly in love with
Jaebum.

It had taken them such a very long time to get to here and now, Jaebum waiting with both
unquenchable impatience and infinite patience at the altar, his smile growing incrementally with
every step closer Jinyoung takes until it can hardly fit into his face, dark eyes filled with a quiet but
immovable certainty that transcends and dispels every last doubt in Jinyoung's mind.

Everything -- the church, the people -- falls away, everything except Jaebum standing at the end of
this long and arduous road. Finally, Jinyoung reaches the end of the aisle and they turn to face the
priest but Jaebum can't take his eyes off him. He doesn't seem to hear the vows, staring openly at
Jinyoung with stunned awe and hushed reverence like Jinyoung is the absurdly beautiful one here
and Jaebum can hardly believe his luck. Jaebum is so happy, even his eyes are smiling. He takes
Jinyoung's breath away.
And Jinyoung thinks that if forever were a colour, it would be blue. Every spectrum of blue in the
rainbow, every combination of broken white light -- the impossibly sunlit blue on the day of their
first date; the midnight blue Jaebum's hair gleamed when it caught the moonlight; the fathomless blue
of the sky behind Jaebum's head as he leans down to claim Jinyoung's lips with careless greed on the
Athens beach the day after their wedding, grains of sand the only thing seperating their bare skin.

Before he had met Jaebum, Jinyoung hadn't even known that he had been living in monochrome
black-and-white. He hadn't even been living, just existing. It was Jaebum who had taught him the
meaning of being alive and every shade of blue, painstakingly and patiently, changing Jinyoung's life
irrevocably forever.

Jinyoung wakes up in a bed halfway around the world, an ocean away from home. For a moment, he
blinks groggily, uncertain of where he is, but then he hears a familiar low voice beside his ear, the
shift of biceps beneath his head and remembers that they are in Los Angeles, California, where
Mark was born and had returned for his wedding with Jackson. They had flown in on a long-haul
flight the previous night and promptly collapsed in bed with exhaustion and jet-lag when they arrived
at the hotel.

Beside him, Jaebum mutters inaudibly again, and Jinyoung leans closer to eavesdrop on his
sleeptalking, curious about his dreams. Jaebum's ramblings are indiscernible at first, until Jinyoung
manages to decipher a single word. His name. Jaebum had been dreaming of him.

"Jinyoungie," Jaebum repeats with his eyes still closed and a sated, drowsy half-smile, looking like
the cat who ate the canary. His husband, Im Jaebum. The thought brings tears to Jinyoung's eyes.
Long ago, he had never imagined that a miracle of this magnitude was possible, that he could feel
such an enormity of love for someone, that he could ever be married to Jaebum. But Jaebum had
created that miracle. He had made Jinyoung's dreams come true.

Jaebum stirs against Jinyoung, his body warm with sleep and eyelashes brushing Jinyoung's cheek.
When Jinyoung opens his eyes again, Jaebum is looking at him with a sideways smile, eyes
smouldering like embers from beneath heavy lids.

"Good morning, hyung," Jinyoung purrs, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Did you dream of
me?"

Jaebum blushes slightly under Jinyoung's sugar sweet, self-satisfied smile. "How did you know?" he
mumbles, hiding his face beneath the pillow. Jinyoung only chortles in reply.

The weather is unseasonably perfect today, skies the colour of robin's eggs, the ocean beyond
Venice Beach lagoon blue, a few gulls surfing the breeze by the seashore. Jinyoung misses home
already, their cozy house back in Seoul with his and Jaebum's matching enamel blue mugs waiting
patiently for them on the bathroom sink, toothbrushes listing towards each other like lovers. But he
knows that they'll be back in no time at all, and it doesn't really matter anyway because Santorini,
Korea, Los Angeles -- Jaebum makes everywhere feel like home.
Jinyoung squints against the weak rays of morning sun filtering through the stained glass windows of
the Presbyterian church, almost indistinguishable from the one he and Jaebum were wedded in barely
six months ago. Jackson hadn't been keen on a sappy wedding ceremony, preferring to just register
their marriage in the state of California and say their vows before a fuss-free priest. But Mark had
been adamant on a traditional white wedding, cheesy tuxedos and best men and the works, and
Jackson had eventually been worn down. It was pretty obvious who wore the pants in their
relationship.

It was also pretty obvious who the job of best men landed on.

Luckily, Jinyoung and Jaebum had saved the tuxes from their own wedding, having the foresight to
predict they could be recycled in future. Standing at the podium with Jackson who is sweating and
fidgeting nervously with his bow tie, Jinyoung has a vivid flashback of their wedding.

Then the heavy oak doors creak open and everyone turns eagerly to see Mark framed softly by the
light flooding into the church, like a soft focus scene through the viewfinder of a camera. Everyone
sighs helplessly at Mark's cherubic, ethereal gorgeousness, loudest of all Jackson, but Jinyoung only
has eyes for Jaebum standing unobtrusively behind him, head bowed modestly so as not to steal the
spotlight, his best intentions spoiled by the blinding grin that breaks over his face and steals all the
light from the room when he looks up to see Jinyoung watching him.

Jackson sniffles shakily as he watches Mark floating down the aisle towards him, beaming radiantly,
but Jinyoung keeps his eyes on Jaebum as he walks down the aisle this time, towards Jinyoung,
never taking his eyes off him. This time, Jinyoung is the one waiting. And he doesn't mind, would
willingly wait for an entire lifetime for the chance to love Jaebum; and even if it didn't come, he
would continue in the next and the next and the next. He would wait as long as it took and he would
do it gratefully.

Because walking ever closer to him, Jaebum is a staggeringly beautiful vision in pure white, the sun
shining off his adorably disheveled hair like brilliantine, so unbearably bright that Jinyoung's eyes are
suddenly blinded by tears. He blinks them away only to see them reflected on Jaebum's face,
streaking down his cheeks. Jaebum's eyes are tense, worried, and Jinyoung knows that he wants
nothing more than to dash down the aisle and close the remaining distance between them, take
Jinyoung into his comforting arms and ask if everything is alright. But he doesn't want to ruin Mark
and Jackson's moment, and his loyalty to their friends is the only thing holding him back.

And that is exactly what Jinyoung loves most about Jaebum: that he always puts others before
himself, that he never, ever lets Jinyoung down.

So Jinyoung tells him this the only way he knows how: by peering as unobtrusively from behind
Jackson's back and silently mouthing the three simplest, most difficult words he's never been able to
say but wanted so badly to, every day.

Jaebum's eyes widen first with surprise, then understanding, the emotions flashing across his face as
clear as day, even before he mouths the words back. When he does, reaching the end of the journey
and stopping behind Mark, no one else sees it but Jinyoung, over both their shoulders, and Jaebum,
singlehandedly illuminating Jinyoung's world with his incandescent answering smile.
(Jinyoung wakes up. He feels a familiar gaze covering him like a warm, beloved security blanket and
opens his eyes to see Jaebum sitting on an armchair by the window, the gauzy morning light
streaming through the Venetian blinds flattering him, puffing on a cigarette with his legs crossed
indolently as he watches Jinyoung sleep.

"I had a dream," Jinyoung murmurs, rubbing the remnants of it out of his eyes.

"Oh?" Jaebum leans forward, intrigued, and Jinyoung nods and narrates it to him. He had dreamt
that they had met in an entirely different parallel universe, at an entirely different age, as teenagers in
a rookie hip-hop boy band in conservative South Korean society. Even though it was forbidden,
even though it was frowned upon, even though they were both too young to know what love was --
Jinyoung had still been stupidly, unabashedly, crazily in love with Jaebum.

"How did it end?" Jaebum asks with interest, and Jinyoung furrows his brow.

"I don't know. I woke up before it ended."

"I do," Jaebum smirks, and Jinyoung blushes to the roots of his hair. He really has the most indecent
smile.

"How?" he says in wonderment.

"Because I'd always make it end this way," Jaebum states with simple confidence, standing and
walking towards Jinyoung to bend and taste Jinyoung's lips. Jinyoung closes his eyes and gets
hopelessly lost in the sweet pressure of Jaebum's lips, excruciatingly, exquisitely gentle. Jinyoung
loves him.

"What did you just say?" Jaebum's eyes are wide as he breaks away.

"W-what?"

"You said..."

"...?"

"... I love you." Jaebum's voice is softer than a whisper.

Jinyoung laughs giddily. He's been waiting for this chance to turn the tables on Jaebum from the very
first day. "Really?" he teases, gazing into Jaebum's adorably reddening face.

"No! I mean, y-yes... I mean, that's what you said --"

"-- Hyung."

"... Yes?"

"Me too."

"..."

"More than anything.")