Street Light People

The familiar stench of people's sweat mixed along with the smell of currently smoked cigarettes hit his nostrils and made his nose twitch when he stepped inside the gloom room. It was shortly lit by the incited light of the street and highlighted the older and newer stains of alcohol and vomit. Conversations drowned in the sudden silence his visit commanded. Jung Yunho was used to this reaction. His attitude screamed confidence and hidden danger not to mess with him. The life experienced men stayed away. His facial features, sharp and strong, made women swoon and attracted to him. They longed for him but his eyes conveyed a look that made them keep a distance. He wasn't interested in them anyway.

With the attitude that was expected of him as someone of higher status he walked past the tables occupied by the common folk as well as the noble class in London. In here they mingled together, still in their own circles, but back on back. Here they set loose.

Yunho's eyes were set on a figure far off in the back. Even in the background his person of interest draw glances; curious, wary, lustful. He stopped two arm lengths away from the other customer.

"Here we meet again," the smooth voice accented with a husky note said. Its owner positioned himself more comfortable on the worn-out furniture, eyes focussed on the few other people in the smoky room. His mouth lifted at the corners. Amusement, Yunho thought and presumed to take a seat opposite the young man. He'd changed. Not much, a stranger wouldn't have noticed.

But Yunho did. How could he ever forget? The other left as much of an impression as he did years ago at the brothel Donghae had talked him over to attend. He'd never admit it that he was glad his friend dragged him with him. Else he wouldn't had met the interest his mind was occupied with, day and night, weeks and months, years.

He remembered his disdain, his queasiness at the stench of smoke and overwhelming perfume that had aggravated breathing.

His boredom.

This time, in this run-down pub he didn't mind. And it wasn't because of the location nor a sudden tolerance to it. No, Yunho acknowledged to himself that it was his company that let him endure the pestering smell.

“You made quite a name for yourself,” he stated and gestured for a drink. A waitress came over to take the order. She wore a short dress, apron tied around her small waist and her hair pinned-up. She looked classy in a way that didn't fit her surrounding. Just as a certain person whose attention tended to him. His eyes were fixed on him, Yunho could feel it. The sensation sent welcome shivers down his spine. After the waitress left he turned his head to the one he hadn't see in a while. He lived well, Yunho thought and examined the young man. Pale skin emitting a healthy glow, large dark eyes expressive yet polite, full red lips as as always and currently wrapped around the cigarette. His partner was the epitome of sinful, living life its fullest.

“I'm just a city boy,” Jaejoong said and continued to puff on his cigarette. “One who took a train to anywhere seeking for companionship.” After a pause and another drag on his shortened cigarette, “My dear mother always believed I was born to sing, sing the blues.”

“Are you?” Yunho asked, eyes following the cigarette touching those sinful lips. He, in all his life hadn't felt envious. The kids back in the small village he grew up in with their expensive clothes? He found hilarity in their demeanour, stalking like proud peacocks. The London snobs swaggering about their fortune? It fuelled the determination in him to be better, to show them (put in demotic) the middle finger while he succeeded. Yet he couldn't believe he felt envy over the cigarette. It was a freaking cigarette. And here the green monster attacked the plain white stub with death glares. No, he wouldn't, absolutely wouldn't fall that low.

Jaejoong gave him a mindful look, as to say he should know the answer. Yunho knew, his success said it all. So he decided to change the topic. “Mind if I borrow that?” he asked politely, successfully hiding his inner turmoil. Jaejoong handed him the almost non-existent stub with a smirk. “Keep it,” he said, a knowing glint in his eyes. Yunho suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. His collective, stoic self always got tested in the other's presence. Since the day they agreed on companionship. He pulled out a cigarette of his own and lit it. He flicked the dying ember of Jaejoong's in a near ashtray.

“You're known all over town and beyond,” Jaejoong remarked.

“Just working hard to get my fill,” Yunho shrugged and dragged at his own cigarette. He slowly blew out the smoke, fully aware of the man's intense gaze. He liked it. He enjoyed Jaejoong's attention. It gave him a thrill he didn't experience in his business.

“I'm not surprised,” his partner said with a suggestive glance to the ashtray. “Your skills in aiming at your goal and shooting off opponents are highly respected and feared.”

Yunho hummed, enjoying the burn in his throat and momentary wondering how it'd feel to burn in different places, preferably by the doing of Jaejoong. Well, now wasn't the time and place. “Some will win, some will lose,” he replied and took another drag. “On a sunny day out of coincidence one finds paradise, one finds poison. All that glitters isn't all gold.”

Jaejoong rested his chin in one hand, elbow propped on the table separating them. “My, my, mixing music with philosophy? I'm impressed.”

“You should.” Yunho pressed the lit cigarette stub on the edge of the table and flicked it to its companion. There was still a faint glow of ember.

“You won't get any money from me though,” Jaejoong stated. Yunho raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he questioned, voice low and controlled.

“Yes, in any case it should be me getting the shillings.” Jaejoong leaned closer. “After all you used one of my song's lyrics. Jung Yunho caught in a plagiarism affair, no good for your career,” he mused, the playful glint in his eyes causing Yunho's lips to twitch. They stared at each other, air crackling between them. None of them wanted to back down. They only broke their eye contact for the moment the waitress brought Yunho his drink and he thanked her politely. In the end Jaejoong lowered his gaze but Yunho knew it wasn't out of capitulation. The other never backed out. So he waited patiently. For whatever the other had in mind.

“Companionship,” Jaejoong started and then hesitated. He gazed at Yunho's hand which had hold a cigarette minutes ago. “We agreed on it, didn't we? Back then...” Yunho nodded and inquired for him to go on. Jaejoong reached for his drink and sipped on it. He grimaced. “Your taste is awful,” he commented. Yunho shrugged his shoulders. “I like it,” he replied and chuckled at the appalled look he got. Times like this showed why the other was a singer, not infamous but well-known around town. More he didn't need, so the other after Yunho had asked him about it. Unlike him Jaejoong wasn't striving for social recognition. Respect, yes. But what the snobs thought about him wasn't all that present in the singer's mind. “How do you live your life if its controlled by others?” he once remarked and therefore revealed his opinion on social status. Yunho agreed. Being obsessed with showing everyone one's worth made one lose everything important on the long run. He wasn't greedy for the rich men's approval. Yunho knew his qualities and skills. He didn't need a small group of upper town snobs to prove it, a groups of worshippers. No, what he wanted sat right in front of him, sipping on his drink despite the man's former complaints.

“I thought wine wasn't your forte?” he couldn't help but tease. Jaejoong his lips, a wicked smile appearing. “I like your taste,” he said quietly, almost purred. Yunho felt a rush of heat going south and tried to ignore the excitement building up. If the humoured chuckle was anything to go by he wasn't nearly as good as he'd hoped. “Then why are we still here?” he shot back in an attempt to cover his slip of control.

“Cause we're going anywhere,” Jaejoong replied and pushed the drink to him. Yunho raised an eyebrow at his antics. “Got enough?”

“Never.” It was a breathless whisper and made Yunho wish they were in a more secluded area. Not in public were they were exposed to scrutinising glances and had to measure each word they said. He motioned for Jaejoong to get up and follow him. Time to change the location.

They hadn't drunk much and where quite sober compared to some others leaving the place. Yunho shook his head in disgust at their drunken state. How can one present oneself in public like that, making a fool of himself and his family? That was something beyond his imagination. He turned to his companion.

“How about a taxi ride?”

Jaejoong raised an eyebrow at his offer. “A taxi, really now, Mr. Jung?” Mild reproach swung in his voice. Yunho thought he could never get tired of it. Every time he discovered new facets in the other. All those discoveries made it impossible to reckon up Jaejoong's character. Yet, he wasn't upset nor worried. In fact, he liked it. The never ending revelations made him anticipate more, made him wonder how the other reacted to certain things. It should scare him. He never cared for people distant to him.

Strangers.

But they weren't strangers. Jaejoong was his companion. They shared something Yunho couldn't quite put a finger on it, yet. Maybe he never wanted to find out.

“Has love found you before?” Jaejoong asked in the comfort of the taxi. In the end they'd pulled one over. It had been spontaneous, an idea on impulse. All the things Yunho usually didn't do. But seeing the twinkle in the other man's eyes made him do things he never did before. Just to keep him happy.

“I wanna know what love is” Yunho revealed, face turned away from the other, eyes focussed on the scenery outside, admiring the small lights brighten the darkness. Little stars turned into guards along the streets.

Yunho'd said it absent-minded, not really realising what he said. It always happened with the other: his heart spoke instead of his head. Revealed secrets he wished to hide and made him feel relieved the other knew his inner thoughts. He couldn't place what this feeling meant, this comfort, this feel to be at ease.

Jaejoong didn't reply immediately, instead he laid his head on Yunho's shoulder. “Who doesn't,” he mused softly after a while of mutual silence. “Aren't we all on the search?”

Yunho hummed. It wasn't necessary to speak many words. They understood each other. How he couldn't explain. He took notice of it and let it flow. After all they were fishes in a river on their way to their destination. Wherever it was.

“People come and go,” he broke the silence that had settled after Jaejoong's rhetorical question. “Faces fade as the years go by.“ But yours stays clear, he added in his mind.

Jaejoong chuckled. “You've gone under the poetics now?”

“Just setting the mood.” His answer gave way to the lovely laughter he adored and filled the lonely car on its way to a destination unknown.

“We touched so many times and went separate ways afterwards” Jaejoong said so nonchalantly as if he talked about the weather while drinking a glass of wine in the late evening. Pardon, rather sake. Or, so Yunho mused, wine accented with his flavour. He cast a glance at Jaejoong, bangs falling in his eyes. He reached out to sweep them out the smaller male's face.

“Do you hurt?”

Yunho paused in his actions, brows furrowed. “Hurt?” he repeated, not quite getting the hang of what his companion wanted to say. Jaejoong nodded. “Hurt. Do you hurt before, during, after we met? Ever?”

Yunho frowned. That was quite private. They had intimate talks before, deep in the night when all was quiet and only their own breathing accompanied them. But it wasn't to this extent. They always managed to draw the line, to keep a small band of distance between them for their own sake, to protect their vulnerable souls. But this line seemed to vanish slowly. Wittingly or unwittingly, he couldn't decide.

“Something can hurt bad, can't it?” he replied after some thoughts, careful not to reveal too much. “It's a mystery and yet people go on. And after the heartache it begins from anew.”

Jaejoong straightened, a glint in his eyes Yunho never seen before. Tears? Frustration? Withhold emotions? He couldn't tell. His companion was different tonight. Well, who was he to judge? He was as well. No, maybe he just looked in a mirror. He stared at Jaejoong, his lost expression. Did he look like that? Years ago? All the time? Was that why the other had approached him? Had he the urge to kiss it all away, fill the emptiness? Cast the loneliness away, life's boredom.

Yunho leaned forward and cupped Jaejoong's face. “We're both born to run,” he whispered, breath ghosting over pale skin and a stranger's forlornness walking the streets accompanied by restlessness. ”But I'm tired of running.” And he caught those sinful lips in a taste of bittersweet. Yunho heard Jaejoong gasp and clutch at his shirt tightly, only to let go seconds later and push him away gently. Their heavy breath filled the taxi along with a sharp intake of air and an occasionally shudder down their bodies.

“Love survives somehow, some way, right?” Jaejoong broke the silence, hand still resting on Yunho's chest. Yunho was sure he could hear his fast heartbeat, his heart's wish to break free. Something shifted completely in their relationship.

“In any kind of place, in any sort,” he agreed. “It adapts, changes. Just like one's reflection in the mirror. Cause the mirror only shows the past and current, never the future.”

“So you're saying our mirror right now is companionship?” Jaejoong inquired, head cocked to the side. Yunho nodded carefully. They once again walked on thin ice, the line fading once again. “None can see what will happen.” He brushed another strand of hair out of the other's face. Jaejoong traced an invisible pattern on his shirt. “So we just continue looking in our mirror?”

Yunho hummed in agreement and gestured for the taxi driver to stop. He gave him some money along with a tip and climbed out the car. He hold out an arm for Jaejoong to clutch at. “You don't mind walking?”

Jaejoong shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips. “I've never mind anything as long as you're beside me,” he said softly, eyes holding the usual twinkle Yunho wished to never see fade. It only dimmed when its owner took in the location they currently were.

“The movie never ends,” Yunho remarked as they walked down the street of the red light district. es, bathed in the street lights. called them, their voices long lost the initial seductive tone. Outer beauty faded, soft and scented skin wilted, the desire to make money for a better life time-worn. They stopped believing.

“This part of yours hasn't changed,” Jaejoong said and came to a halt. Yunho stopped also. He cocked his head to the side, a sign for the other to inquire. “You feel no desire towards them. Still harbour your distaste for purchased .”

Yunho slid his hands in the pocked of his jeans. “I'm a man of principles.”

Jaejoong chuckled. “I know. You're not easy to satisfy.”

“You do,” he replied. A faint blush appeared on the other's face. Yunho felt something tug in his chest at the sight. “You're a mystery, interesting.”

Jaejoong puffed out his cheeks. A strange and at the same time adorable expression. “I thought the why something good can hurt phenomenon was a mystery?”

Yunho avoided the gaze of an older woman trying hard to catch his attention. It was futile. His desire was accommodated by someone else. “Do you know why I requested a taxi ride?”

Jaejoong shook his head. Clueless eyes stared up at him. “I thought you maybe had too much to drink,” he teased lightly.

Yunho ignored the light jab. He wasn't a heavy drinker. One or two glasses, more he didn't need. “I've travelled so far to end my lonely life,” he admitted. “A taxi ride with you was my solution to my own isolation. I want to hold you in the street, kiss you under the light. I always wanted to do that.” Cause I'm yours.

Jaejoong let out a gust of surprised air. His eyes wandered down the street, took in every desperate women in their cut close dresses and heavy make-up covering their resignation for life. Yunho watched him, the little furrow between his brows, the fire in his eyes that burned the desire in his heart as well as his own. The pale skin reflecting the dirty street lights making it seem more elegant than it was in spite of the Victorian styled lamp posts.

“No street light people.” Jaejoong stood with his back to the street, face tilted to the side. “We are no street light people, are we?” he asked, eyes illuminated by the near street lamp. Yunho found himself trapped in them. They were dark, expressive, showed everything its owner thought, yet stayed a mystery. Like a deep pond. You see all the things under the surface but what's on the ground had yet to be discovered.

Yunho stepped closer. He's always been drawn to the beautiful male in front of him. “Not any more,” he whispered and caressed Jaejoong's cheek. He saw his lids fluttering close, felt him lean in the touch. They weren't strangers any more, waiting. Waiting for someone to fill the holes inside as es waited for suitor up and down the boulevard, hoping to be swept away from their cheap perfumed life. They weren't searching in the night any more, their shadows only seen in the light of lamps. Cause Yunho realised, he, a former small town boy, didn't live in the lonely world he brought on himself by climbing the society ladder any more.

“I'm not the singer shrouded in wine and perfume any more,” Jaejoong stated, a hint of amazement in his voice as he stared up at Yunho, his large eyes filled with new found realisation and wonder.

“No,” Yunho agreed and tucked him closer. A silver band gleamed between his fingers. “You're not that singer. You're my companion who walked beside me, who made my life interesting, who showed me a different exhilaration than my business.” He grabbed Jaejoong's slim right hand and slid the silver band on his slim ring finger. “You're mine, and mine only. Understand?”

Jaejoong peered up at him under his long eyelashes. His mouth transformed into a bright smile and his whole face glowed with happiness. “Yes, I understand,” he replied and leaned in the tender kiss. Not the passion filled, sloppy, open mouthed kisses or the bittersweet ones they shared in confined space, but the hole filling, free and sparkling kiss both were longing for. The one that made their heart burn desire., made their hearts stop crying.

Because both understood.

Street light people no more.