It’s a wonder there’s only a muffled thud, the way Jaejoong all but slammed down the photo frame onto the table.

Jaejoong rubs his eyes so hard they sting, but it’s no use. When he gets over his shock enough to face the photograph again, his face is still here, the smile on his lips so huge and happy it’s almost nauseating.

Jaejoong’s never paid much attention in history class, generally preferring to doodle beards and moustaches on the pictures in the textbook as opposed to reading the text, but he’s fairly sure that the private’s outfit both men in the photograph are wearing belongs to the days of the Korean War, though North or South he can’t say for sure.

Maybe the other man—the one that doesn’t look like him—can give him answers. It feels like Jaejoong’s seen him before, so maybe he’s absorbed more from history class than he’d thought. With any luck, it’s someone who eventually became an officer famous enough for him to recognise.

Not trusting his hands, he leans in, squinting to see by the dim moonlight the small face shadowed by the oversized helmet.

It’s…it’s Yunho?

Jaejoong’s tempted to rub his eyes again, but he figures it’s no use, because if they didn’t work the first time round, it’s not likely that they’ll come through for him. I must be more tired than I thought, Jaejoong tells himself. I should get some sleep, then it’ll all make sense in the morning.

Maybe. Hopefully.

He starts for the door, but just as he reaches it, he turns back and stares at the photo frame for a long time.

Even though Yunho said he was free to roam the house and garden, he’s never done that, since everything he needed was provided for. It’s starting to dawn on him that maybe it was to keep him in his room, and that practically being under room arrest may not have solely been because he was too weak to leave it.

In that case, it may be a long time before he comes downstairs again. On the other hand, if he takes the photo with him, then he can study it all he likes and maybe figure out why the two people in it look so much like two people whose only experience with the Korean War should be limited to what the government has deemed important enough to teach to the future generation. Yunho’s young enough to have studied the same syllabus Jaejoong does.

Right?

He walks back and tucks the photo frame under his shirt.

-{}-

He’s halfway up the stairs when someone switches on the light and he very nearly gets his first heart attack, which at the back of his mind he thinks is at least sixty years too early.

“Jaejoong?” Yunho calls out from the bottom of the staircase, and Jaejoong almost topples down the stairs. Instead, he merely turns around to indicate he’s listening.

Footsteps. Yunho’s cool breath on his cheek. “Why did you come down?”

Hand securely wrapped around his stomach to prevent the photo frame from falling out, Jaejoong motions with his other hand at the rooms.

A tiny smile dances on Yunho’s lips, and Jaejoong’s heart sinks a little at how much he likes it. “Exploring, at this hour?”

I was bored, Jaejoong mouths, secretly thankful that he can’t make a sound because he’s not sure if he can keep his voice from trembling. I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to.

Yunho chuckles, though it sounds a little strained. “I took you in, didn’t I? My house is open to you. But maybe morning would be a better time for this.”

So you can hide everything I’m not supposed to see? Jaejoong thinks snidely (another side-effect of being Changmin’s brother). But all he does is nod and mouth goodnight.

“Oh, by the way, about your throat…Taemin says it’s nothing life-threatening, but you’ll need an operation if you want your voice back. Your parents have been notified, and they’ve already arranged things with the Asan Medical Centre. You should be back to normal and your own home in a couple of days.”

Back to normal…his own home.

Why is Jaejoong not as happy about that as he’d thought?

“Do you want me to bring breakfast up tomorrow?”

Jaejoong shakes his head.

Yunho pats his shoulder, and there’s so much supressed emotion in that single touch that Jaejoong clenches his fist, barely stopping himself from demanding to know what Yunho is keeping from him. “Then I’ll see you in the dining room tomorrow then. Get some sleep for now.”

Jaejoong stares at the spot Yunho was at long after his figure’s retreated into one of the many rooms. What are you hiding from me?

As he climbs back into bed, stashing the photo under his pillow, he looks at Changmin’s peacefully (almost too peacefully) sleeping face and wonders if Yunho’s the only one who has something to hide from him.

Sleep is fitful when it finally comes.