At the back of his mind, Jaejoong wonders if Yunho’s long, nigh impossible leaps are the product of his Keeper position, or there’s simply always been a remarkably handsome long jump Olympic champion that he’s never noticed before. Yunho moves from roof to roof without the slightest hesitation, Jaejoong clutched to his chest the whole time like Yunho is a panther unwilling to give up his prey.

The sheer…possessiveness of that image, Jaejoong finds, is not altogether unappealing. He thinks how nice it would be to stay like this, in Yunho’s arms, for all eternity, but considering that right now it might hinder Yunho’s movements Jaejoong refrains from moving as much as he is able to. It’s interesting, how even though he’s completely expected a bumpy ride, it’s surprisingly smooth, like gliding. Jaejoong could almost go to sleep right there, but the thought that sooner or later Changmin will catch on is enough to keep him awake. He buries his head in Yunho’s shoulder, and Yunho gives him an affectionate smile but doesn’t stop.

Finally, with one last flying leap, Yunho lands on the ground. Jaejoong peeps out from where he’s tucked his head in, only to be greeted by a concrete road leading off into the sea, the sound of lazy sloshing of the waves as they slap the supporting pillars in the background.

“Yoochun,” Yunho says. “We’re here. Show yourself.”

Yoochun? Jaejoong’s head jerks up at that name.

“It’s alright, Boo,” Yunho says, reassuring him. “We made a deal. He won’t hurt you again. He can’t. I promise.”

He won’t hurt me, Jaejoong repeats. When did he start trembling?

 “Never,” Yunho vows.

And with the fervour in his voice, Jaejoong’s shudders still. He cups Yunho’s face in his hands, and he’s not quite sure if a heart has ever held as much trust and love as his does now. As he nods his consent, the proximity is more than he can bear, and he kisses Yunho.

It’s just like their first one, but so much sweeter.

Because now, there is nothing between them anymore. Their mouths are smashed haphazardly together and Jaejoong’s lungs are bursting with the lack of oxygen, but he can’t be bothered to adjust his position, and if the feelings overwhelming him are a sea, then Jaejoong wants to drown.

It’s Yunho who eventually pulls away, and the look on his face is almost enough to make Jaejoong dive right back again.

“We have a room for this, you know.”

Startled, Jaejoong turns his head, towards the end of the pier. He would’ve sworn on every religious book in existence that the lean white ship now at the end of the pier wasn’t there before.

Yoochun’s standing on the deck, hands splayed out on the railings as he regards the—are they lovers now?—with something akin to amusement. The red eyes from that night are still there, but even from this distance Jaejoong can tell that the colour is muted, a deep, garnet red that symbolises satisfaction more than it does lust. By his side is a man that looks the same age, yet younger, hair teased in a way that makes him look like he’s ready to step right off the ship and straight onto a stage, a crooked smile on his face that turns his eyes into laughing crescents.

“Get your up here,” Yoochun calls out. “I didn’t get a permit and by now the coast guard has probably realised there’s an unknown ship in their waters. Do you want to get shot at?”

“I won’t mind if they aim for you,” Yunho replies, but he gathers Jaejoong in his arms again, and with another leaps lands on the deck next to Junsu. It’s only then that he releases Jaejoong, setting him on solid ground with all the tenderness of a mother placing her child in a cradle.

“Good luck piloting this ship without me,” Yoochun says, walking towards the front where Jaejoong assumes the steering wheel is. “I don’t recall maritime pilot ever being one of your careers, and I’ll wager all the blood in Junsu’s body that boy of yours has never laid his pretty eyes on a steering wheel, let alone his hands.”

Blood? Jaejoong examines the one called Junsu, and for the first time notices that his eyes aren’t red, but the soft brown of autumn leaves. And while he’s definitely attractive in the aesthetic sense, his features ring more human than anything else.

Jaejoong’s communicated so much with Yunho via his mind that he’s forgotten why. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly shuts it again when he remembers that it’s currently out of order. Right. That appointment with the hospital. He’s not going anymore, is it?

“We’ll find someone else,” Yunho says, wrapping his arms around Jaejoong’s waist, and Jaejoong relaxes into his touch. “Until then, I’ll be your voice. Now, what was it you wanted to ask Junsu?”

At the mention of his name, Junsu looks away from the sea, which he’d turned to out of embarrassment the moment Yunho started hugging Jaejoong, though it’s not like he hasn’t done anything similar with Yoochun. “Yes?”

“He wants to know if you’re a Blood Singer too,” Yunho says. “And if you’re Yoochun’s Blood Singer.”

“Yes to both,” Junsu confirms brightly, smiling a little as he always does at the mention of Yoochun. God, how long he’d spent waiting, all those days and nights with Changmin’s teeth in his neck or wrist and wishing it was Yoochun instead, all while knowing that Changmin wished he was another person too. When Yoochun showed up, having somehow found him despite his being disguised by Changmin’s scent and barriers, Junsu had kissed him so hard that even with Yoochun’s healing abilities he’d sported a bruised lip for a whole day.

“And you’re...together?”

Junsu blushes. “Is it weird?”

Jaejoong gives Yunho a look, and Yunho shrugs. “Yeah, the concept of loving your food that much is a little beyond me too, but it’s possible. Just unusual. Oh.” Yunho turns to Junsu. “He asks if you’re happy.”

Junsu nods. “So happy,” he confirms, and, thinking about exactly what things have made him happy, blushes even more, much to Yunho’s amusement and Jaejoong’s slight confusion.

Was he ever happy with Changmin? He asks himself. Unlike many siblings he’s heard of, Jaejoong and Changmin never had a serious quarrel, mainly because Changmin cannot seem to remain angry at Jaejoong for long and Jaejoong discovered fairly early that when it comes to Changmin home-made macaroons can solve anything.

He wishes home-made macaroons could solve this too, but at this point there’s no going back to the way things were, not for all the macaroons in the world, home-made or otherwise. Changmin is well and truly terrified him, and after learning his motives for being by his side Jaejoong doesn’t think he can ever face him again.

But he starts remembering. The time Changmin somehow got his hands on whisky and swapped Jaejoong’s apple juice for it, then taped the ensuing aftermath when Jaejoong flailed around the house telling every lamp he could find how loved it was. The time Jaejoong had dared Changmin to step on a lotus leaf in the park, and Changmin had did it and immediately fallen into the water, holding onto Jaejoong’s sleeve the whole time so Jaejoong went down with him. The time Changmin had insisted on cooking Jaejoong porridge when he fell ill and their parents were overseas, and somehow got the notion that chopped strawberries inside was a good idea. Changmin’s birthday the year before, when he and their parents had opened up the box with the cake Jaejoong secretly baked for the occasion only to find that Changmin had already eaten through half of it.

Changmin claimed that it was simply part of a long, drawn-out game, a predator toying with its prey. Yet, Jaejoong thinks otherwise. That in the midst of so many days spent together, something of it must have been real. That of all the moments Changmin put on an act worthy of every trophy the KBS Drama Awards could shove at him, there had been some that he let his mask drop. That it was more than blood that drove Changmin to choose him that fateful day in the orphanage.

That Yunho was right, and that in some way, no matter how dark a form it took, Changmin had loved him.

“Joongie?” Jaejoong lifts his head to meet Yunho’s concerned gaze, having heard everything in his head.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Yunho asks quietly.

I miss the memories, Jaejoong replies. I miss the time I thought they were real.

Yes…he’d been so happy. Part of him will always miss it, those innocent, ignorant days. But they’re gone now. He’s traded a false happiness for something real, and this time, he silently promises himself, he will be happy.

With Yunho by his side, that won’t be too hard.

He hasn’t realised until now how tired he is. It’s like everything weighing him down had been lifted off his shoulders by the bliss of Yunho’s presence, but now that there’s time to dwell on it it all comes crashing back down again, and while with Yunho, he can bear it—he can bear anything—it doesn’t mean he won’t mourn what he’s lost.

“Do you want to go to the room?” Yunho asks, following Jaejoong’s thoughts easily as usual. The idea of a nap has never sounded more appealing, and Jaejoong nods gratefully. After a brief discussion with Junsu, Yunho heads for one of the rooms deep in the interior of the ship, Jaejoong clutching tightly to his hand.

The room is compact, but cosy. Everything is done in shades of bronze and muted gold, and the décor, while luxurious, is not opulent. Jaejoong climbs into the bed, delighting in how soft the sheets feel against his skin. Will you stay with me? He asks Yunho, unwilling to part so soon after finding him.

“Until you sleep,” Yunho promises, drawing up a chair by the bedside and seating himself down. “I need to speak to Yoochun and Junsu, but I’ll be there when you wake up. I don’t like being apart from you either,” he confesses, and that makes Jaejoong smile a little.

This is what their lives will be like from now on, and Jaejoong can’t think of anything better.

His burdens come back, creeping into his mind, clamouring and howling in his brain, but Yunho takes his hand, and just like that they flee back into the shadows.

He will have to face them one day, he knows. One day, he will sieve through everything, and determine what he’ll throw away and what he’ll keep. One they, he will gather all these broken moments to his grieving heart, and then he will cast them aside and look only into the future. One day, he will do all that.

But for now, his eyelids flutter shut, and he sleeps under Yunho’s tender gaze.