Chapter 7
Project Yunho
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“Are you alright?”
“I'm fine.” The young boy quickly replied, refusing to meet the other’s stare. He kept his head bent low as he hugged both arms protectively against himself. His whole body hurt. And he just didn’t have the energy to talk anymore.
“Why do you let them do this to you?”
The question remained unanswered. He kept his silence and bit at his bottom lip hard, willing the familiar stinging in his eyes to go away. He could only hope that nobody would be walking by and seeing them together. Because the last thing that he wanted was for such a beautiful and caring person to be hated because of his wickedness.
Freak!
er!
Disgusting !
The words rang in his thoughts and in that instant, he just wanted to slash his wrist and get it over with.
Life had no meaning.
His dad hated him; repeatedly told him that he was a disgrace to the Jung name. His mom didn’t care and was too busy with her stupid fashion shows. Then the boy, the reason why he transferred to this school, his best friend Lee Minho, the one that told him he loved him turned out to be a complete jerk.
Whatever did he do to him?
He heard it straight from Minho’s own mouth, when he was talking to that , his girlfriend, about how stupid he was for believing that someone would actually love a sick . It felt like a part of him died too when he found out that all the affection and so called "friendship" the other offered hadn't been real. He didn't understand how could someone who labeled himself as a best friend and eventual lover turned out to be a fraud.
It wasn't like he even harbored any romantic feelings for Minho. He never had anyone he considered a best friend before. He simply wasn't that outgoing and he was shy when it comes to meeting new people. But Minho, he had just been so nice when they first met that even though he hadn't shown any interest in the friendship that the other seemed adamant to offer him, in the long run they became quite close. He did love him in a purely platonic way, but it was Minho that gave a different color to their relationship and being his usual trusting, stupid self, he simply let him.
When they broke up a day after he found out the truth, it was then that the hell that was called his life started.
Minho spread lies and all over the place about him. In a matter of days, his little cronies began to beat him up.
And his father didn't even seem upset whenever he went back home with bruises on his face. In fact, he approved of the beatings, saying that in such a way, he might learn to be a man and toughen up.
A soft hand landed on his head and he reflexively recoiled from the touch, not because he was afraid to get hit again, but because the very thought that his ersion would show out in the open was scaring him like no other.
He felt it, this boy genuinely cared for his well-being. This wasn’t the first time he tried to make conversation.
There was a possibility that the other boy didn’t know about the real him just yet thus the reason why he was trying to be friendly, but he also knew, that as soon as he found out the truth he’d look at him with the same disgust.
He could tolerate being the object of humiliation from those little jerks at school, could withstand every single scathing remark – but what he wouldn’t be able to endure was to be hated by the boy currently crouching in front of him.
“It feels like I’m talking to a pillar of stone.”
“-----“
“Don’t you have a name?”
“-----“
“It’s hard having a one-sided conversation here.”
“-----“
“Well you’re just a real talker are you?”
“-----“
“Did I mention you look like crap? Those bruises look like they hurt.”
Sudden footsteps reached his ears. He lightly lifted his head and saw an approaching figure briskly walking towards them. Panic gripped his heart until he realized that it was the boy’s best friend. “Jae, what are you’re doing?”
“Talking to an inanimate object.” The boy named Jaejoong replied as he straightened his back, hand on his hips.
A pair of eyes looked down on him and he quickly hid his face behind loose bangs. “We’re gonna be late for class.”
“He’s hurt.” Jaejoong pointed out, voice sounding extremely worried. “Let’s at least take him to the infirmary?”
“Jae you’re only going to get in trouble helping him. Those kids that beat him up seem to really hate his guts.”
“I know.” Jaejoong grumbled with a scowl. “ing wankers are always ganging up on the helpless and weak.”
“Can we go now?”
“I told you we’re taking him to the infirmary.”
“Do you always have to be everyone’s mom?” Yoochun asked in mild annoyance.
“I’m being a good person.” Jaejoong said, a hint of pink on his cheeks. He leaned down and held his arm, hauling him up on his feet. The boy winced painfully from his bruises. He sagged onto the ground, needing to just crawl into a hole.
“He doesn’t look like he wants to be helped.” Yoochun observed with pursed lips.
“He’s probably just too scared to say a word. Come on Chun, help me help him up.” Jaejoong pressed on.
And with those words being said, two pairs of arms hoisted him up. He was feeling too drained to protest.
“My name’s Jaejoong by the way. Kim Jaejoong. Yours?”
'Yunho.' he mentally replied, not bothering to say the word out loud.
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“And I have no idea what the hell I’m doing right now. Gah, I should have pursued medicine. Well at least I managed to stop the bleeding. But I can't stitch skin dammit! And his arm looks really weird. Arggh, please wake up?"
A pair of almond orbs began to flutter open, his name coming out in a mere whisper. "Jaejoong…"
"Yunho?" Jaejoong's eyes were wide as he unceremoniously leaned down and cupped the other's face, obvious relief washing over him. And Yunho remembered his name. Jaejoong felt his heart flutter. "Thank god, you're awake."
They were in his room and the injured man was lying on top of his bed, back propped up against the pillows in a semi-sitting position. Jaejoong was very much happy that Yunho was finally conscious, however, he felt a tad bit depressed over the state his sheets were in. He was gonna be having a long date with the laundry shop tomorrow.
Had he been dreaming about Jaejoong just now? Yunho shook his head and tried to grab at the small tendrils of memory in his sleep induced mind. But the more he felt awake, the dream seemed to depart farther away from him.
Yunho slowly sat upright but then immediately grimaced when he felt a sharp pain on his shoulders. When he looked to his right and found the state his arm was in, memories of his mission came rushing back.
A small smile began to creep up his lips.
The whole agency, he managed to burn the facility to the ground. Hopefully, it would be the last he’d hear of them.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Jaejoong cried out in pure unadulterated concern. Yunho craned his neck and turned his attention on Jaejoong. In a matter of seconds, Yunho found himself in a lip lock with the smaller man.
Jaejoong’s actions spoke of desperation and something else, something that made sparks flew behind his eyelids and without him realizing, his eyes began to close shut as he relished the sweet taste of Jaejoong in his mouth.
Yunho remembered the emotions he had when he thought he was going to die and that he was never going to see Jaejoong again. He had vivid recollections of raw fear, the kind he had never felt before practically swallow him whole.
It was like the fuel to his system. His body had been screaming at him to stop but he continued on, trying to remember the roads, the streets they took the first time Jaejoong bought him to his house.
Yunho found himself badly wanting, needing to see him. And in his mind, even if he died, as long as he could see his face one more time, hold him and have those lips crash against his own, then it would have been alright.
“Don’t you ever go out of the house like that again!” Jaejoong heatedly said when they parted, leaving Yunho panting, his lips and with the desire to claim Jaejoong’s sweetness again, to kiss him passionately, preferably forever. “And even if Yoochun drags you out, you’re not going to leave unless I know where you are going to, alright?”
Yunho took a sharp breath before reaching out an arm and cupping his cheek. “What are you doing to me?”
Jaejoong covered Yunho’s hand with his own, his eyes softening as he asked. “What do you mean?”
“You…” Yunho trailed off, at a loss of words, not knowing what to say.
That in itself wasn’t right. When on the field or whenever he was on a mission, Yunho was very quick to come up with lies and excuses regarding technicalities and possible escape scenarios if he somehow got into trouble. It had all been a part of his training to be ready at all times, to know what to say and do in the battle field. But now, he found great difficulty rationalizing the situation he was in. Then again, experiencing feelings were never part of the training program.
“Jaejoong, you make me feel too much. And these emotions are warring inside me.” Yunho's eyebrows creased, voice sounding helpless. “Feelings are making me susceptible to pain. And I can’t… afford to be bothered by such a feeling.”
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, Jaejoong replied softly. “Pain is a part of being human Yunho. Didn’t you say you wanted to know more about being human? It’s a good thing you’re feeling this. It means you’re becoming one.”
Jaejoong was freaking out like crazy on the inside and hell, he didn't like pain one bit himself, then again, if it weren't for the pain he had to experience and endure in the past, he wouldn't have been able to become the man he was right now. Pain usually made people stronger and Jaejoong was hoping that Yunho would treat it as a positive thing.
Yunho grimaced, feeling another piercing sensation shoot through his shoulder and ground out through gritted teeth. “I… don’t like it.” Withdrawing the hand that was cupping Jaejoong’s face, Yunho brought and positioned it on his right shoulder. He pressed at several points on the injured limb, a look of pure concentration decorating his face.
Jaejoong watched, eyes widening, a hand covering at his mouth that was falling open in a gasp when Yunho suddenly gripped and harshly twisted the dislocated arm, snapping the bones back into its rightful place.
“AGGHH!!” Yunho cried out, teeth clenched as he screwed his eyes shut, sheer pain flashing across his face.
“Yunho.” Jaejoong moved around the bed and was instantly kneeling closer on Yunho’s side, trying to catch the body frozen in a spasm as Yunho rode out through his anguish. “Oh my god, are you okay?”
For a while Yunho wasn’t able to answer until, “I’m alright.” he grunted after half a minute. “Where are my clothes?”
Yunho was lying on Jaejoong's bed. “The shirt is in the bathroom and your pants are here. Do you need them?”
“The shirt. Give it to me.” Yunho said in a slightly pained tone. “I need the concoction. I didn’t have the enough energy earlier to inject it to my skin and I was afraid that... if I took it in such a state I might not be able to wake up.”
Jaejoong didn’t understand a wick of what Yunho said but he complied nevertheless. He jumped off the bed, went into the bathroom and quickly gathered the aforementioned shirt from the floor. Reaching into the front pocket, his hand closed around a small folded compartment packet. When he opened it, he saw several syringes inside.
“Yunho, what are these for?” Jaejoong asked as he knelt down in front Yunho while handing him the materials.
"My genetic make-up is unique and I heal faster than humans. But my creators made these concoctions in order for me to regain my working capacity one-hundred percent after torture sessions that they put me through." he explained. "Because despite the fact that I used to have zero reaction to pain, the body could only withstand a certain degree of abuse.”
Jaejoong’s eyes nearly bugged out. “What?!” he shrieked. “Torture sessions?”
Yunho bit the cap off of the injection and quickly plunged the serum into the skin. “Yes. It was part of my training.” he replied, labored gasps eventually simmering down into a steady pace of taking even breaths. “Thank you.”
To Jaejoong’s amazement, the wounds of Yunho’s body began to close up. A hand covered at his mouth again as he gaped in awe. Sounds of bones snapping into place one after the other reached his ears. When he looked into Yunho’s eyes, he quickly noticed how the other man’s gaze was beginning to drift shut. “Yunho ah, what’s wrong?”
“My… body’s going on a temporary shutdown.” Yunho weakly replied, head lolling to the side.
Jaejoong tensed. “What do you mean?!”
“I’ll be… alright. I just… need time to… recuperate.” Yunho muttered, barely a whisper. “Restart.”
“Are you sure?” Jaejoong asked, lifting his face as he gazed into Yunho’s half-lidded expression. “Yunho ah.”
“I was watching… you cook the other night… for me.” Yunho said, smiling softly. “I’m sorry… I left without… a word.”
Yunho’s whole demeanor laxed and his eyes fluttered close. Jaejoong leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on the other’s mouth, thumb caressing the bruise-decorated skin, but under his touch, they began to disappear.
“It’s alright.” Jaejoong released a deep breath and gently laid Yunho’s head on the soft pillows. "Rest Yunho ah.”
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Was he going crazy? Did he finally crack? Because Yoochun knew that what he saw was all kinds of impossible.
What... no, who, he thought he saw from the hospital couldn’t have been real. There was just no way.
But he looked so much like him, and though he looked older, was covered in dirt and his clothes were tattered and ripped, I know those eyes, those lips, that face. Ten years isn’t enough to make me forget what Sunnie looked like.
Yoochun was busy wringing his hands in a restless manner when Jaejoong walked in on him.
He just stood there, looking at me, straight at me. But when I took the change and looked again, he was gone.
“Chun? Are you okay?”
Yoochun cocked his head back and quickly forced a smile on his face. “Ahh Jae. I heard screaming.”
Walking over towards him, Jaejoong’s arms sprang out as he wrapped them around Yoochun. “Yeah, it was painful.”
Yoochun held him tight for some endless seconds before withdrawing from the hug. “How is he?”
“Resting.” Jaejoong replied, sighing. “And you.” he added, jabbing the younger man in the chest. “Spill Chun.”
Yoochun blanched. “What?”
“You’ve been on edge ever since we left the hospital. Seriously, what’s going on with you?” Jaejoong said in stark worry. “You’ve been okay when we came in. You were even trying to calm me down. But after you went down to the pharmacy to buy me aspirin, you’ve been successfully resembling a person that has seen a ghost ever since.”
Yoochun groaned, clutching at his head trying to will the image of what he saw out of his mind. “I... I don't know Jae.”
After having seen that face, that body with life, standing at a distance though Yoochun was quite sure it had just been a spirit or his desperate wishful thinkings catching up on him, either way it was still breaking his heart. “It hurts.”
Jaejoong turned Yoochun to face him and held his cheeks in his hands. “Chunnie, what’s wrong?”
“Jae.” Yoochun's eyes watered and Jaejoong felt overwhelming worry in his heart at having seen such emotions in his best friend’s eyes up close. He had never seen such a look in years. “Jae, I… I think I saw Junsu at the hospital.”
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The plastic bag containing the jigae Changmin ordered at the restaurant was on the cemented floor as he fished for his keys in his pockets irritably. “Aish, I will never wear tight pants again nor will I care what fashion sense Jaejoong hyung – ei?” Changmin trailed off, eyebrow furrowing into a frown when he caught sight of a person staggering at a distance and falling face first against several trashcans near the neighborhood dumpster. “What the hell?”
Changmin quickly walked down the steps and paced briskly towards the dumpster's direction.
Most of the contents of the garbage can were now lying on the ground, stinking up the place. The litter was pretty damn close to his house too and the last thing that the young man wanted was a smelly front lawn.
The man was a drunkard no doubt and the thought made Changmin even more upset. “Yah, put the trash back in.”
The reply that he got was a pained groaned. Changmin walked closer, face scrunching up in disgust. It didn’t really stink much but it was still garbage and aughhhh, other people’s viruses were on the damn things.
He was just about kick at the other man's leg when he caught sight of something on the man’s jeans. Changmin slowly crouched down and tentatively reached out a hand to tug at the other’s pants. He felt stickyness coat his fingers. His eyes widened in alarm when he brought his fingers close to his face for inspection. It was blood.
“Help… me.” The young man on the cold ground helplessly groaned as he forced himself to sit upright. He clutched at Changmin's arm like a lifeline refusing to let go, pained and miserable, dried and fresh tears decorating his cheeks.
Changmin was floored, the blood on his fingers suddenly the farthest thing from his mind.
He gasped, eyes focused on the other’s face.
Holy marshmallows!
He was gorgeous.
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