I DEAL SCENARIO

Jaejoong was woken up in the morning by a crash of thunder so loud that the bedroom windows began rattling. He lifted his head groggily and looked at the digital clock by Yunho's bed. It was around six in the morning, but it was dark enough to be the middle of the night, and the rain from the night before hadn't slowed down in the slightest. The noise had also woken Yunho up, and he was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

“You're up, too?” He asked, glancing at Jaejoong. “I doubt we'll have to work today. You should go back to sleep.”

“How could anyone sleep through this?”

“I think I could, if I tried.” Yunho yawned, his eyes fluttering shut. “Jaejoongie's hair is flying up. It's cute.”

“Don't be weird,” Jaejoong muttered, blushing, but Yunho was already half way back asleep. He smoothed his hair and laid back down, trying to doze off along with him, but with the wind and the rain and the thunder, resting was an impossibility. He sat up and reached for his notebook on the nightstand, flipping through its pages. He hadn't written anything since Only Love, mainly because his brief fight with Yunho had sapped his will to do much of anything, and even though they were on better terms now, he still wasn't feeling happy enough in love to write the kind of not-soul-crushingly-depressive songs Yunho was waiting for. Writing sad songs really was much easier. Even if they'd made up, there was still Minhee to contend with as well as the fact that Yunho was much more likely to get back with her then even to remotely think of Jaejoong as a romantic possibility. How could he write a pleasant love song with all that weighing him?

He flipped open to a blank page and stared at the empty lines. He didn't have a pencil handy, and his first step to writing music wasn't scribbling down the words, in any case, but instead drawing up the emotions. He closed his eyes, picturing Yunho's face in his mind. Not the sleepy Yunho he'd just looked at minutes ago, but the Yunho from the night before, clutching his guitar and looking at him like a mystery he'd never be able to solve. He imagined Yunho reaching out to his hair just as Jaejoong had done to him, and then those long and gentle fingers brushing against his cheek. A beautiful feeling. A beautiful dream.

It won't ever happen, Jaejoong thought sadly, though still filled with a firm feeling of want. Because I am the way I am, all I can ever do is dream.

But the face he was imagining had been real, and so had that unfathomable look in Yunho's eyes. Jaejoong dwelled on it in his mind's eye. As difficult as the whole thing was, he felt certain now that fate had brought him here and he was where he needed to be. He had never known love as well as he did now, and even though the knowledge that the love would only ever belong to him was hellish, being able to have met Yunho, the first person he had ever felt this way about, was like touching a private piece of heaven.

The face in his mind leaned in, lips parted, the lost look in his eyes vanishing and replaced by something more certain. Jaejoong's breath caught. Some part of his mind knew it was his own emotions he was looking at, but it was too easy to lose himself in the fantasy that they belonged to Yunho. Yunho's hand urging his face forward, their lips coming closer and closer, flirting on the edge of the one kiss he'd always wanted...

Yunho sighed in his sleep, and Jaejoong's eyes snapped open. No, he couldn't do this. Not with Yunho, the real and unobtainable Yunho, sleeping just a few feet away from him. He took deep breaths, trying to right the pace of his heart, but there was no way he was going to fall to sleep or write a song with any coherency now. He shoved the notebook away and rose to his feet, tip toeing out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

Auntie Minjung was also still asleep, so Jaejoong tried to be quiet as he poured himself a glass of tap water and sat down in front of the phone. He needed to get his mind away from Yunho, and Dayoung was probably up by this point to talk to. He punched in her number and waited patiently for her to pick up.

She answered him after a few seconds. “Jaejoong, is that you?” She still sounded sleepy, but at least she wasn't in the middle of brushing her teeth. “Something wrong?”

“You told me not to be a stranger, so I thought I'd call you.”

“I'm just surprised you're up this early, that's all.”

“It's thunderstorming here. Is it not back home?”

“Just drizzling, luckily. I saw about the storm on the news. Are you staying dry?”

“I'll be fine. There's no way they can do an open market in this weather, so I doubt I'll be working today.”

“Speaking of which, you must have earned a nice amount of money by now. Have any plans for it?”

“Not really.” Jaejoong thought of Yunho's wish for recording equipment and the necessity of a new truck and felt guilty for having so little need of the money himself. He didn't know how much the equipment would cost, but a new truck would surely drain Yunho of everything if he at least wanted one that ran more smoothly than the one he had now.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Noona,” he asked, leaning forward, “has your boyfriend been working for the company for awhile now?”

“Stan? I think he's been around since the early days. He's got a lot of seniority in the production and recording department, for sure.”

“Does he have any old recording tools he isn't using anymore? Some things he would be okay selling?”

“Tools? As far as I know, they're mostly using software these days, and I know for a fact he has some back-up disks. I think he also has way more microphones sets than he actually needs lying around, but who knows? They may actually be important. I could ask. Are you thinking about giving recording a try?”

“No, but I have a friend who does that stuff. He's been helping me out with my songs... so as a thank you, I thought...”

“Is this the Yunho guy you're living with? Wouldn't that be spoiling him too much? It's your money, you should spend it on yourself.”

“He likes being spoiled,” Jaejoong muttered. “And what would I spend it on, when I come back? I don't have any friends at home. I'd rather do something special for the one friend I do have.”

“How... noble of you.” Dayoung clicked her tongue. “Fair enough. I'll talk to Stan about it today and see what I can do. But hear me out, Jae. If he says yes, I'm not mailing the stuff to you. You better come home and get it for yourself, or forget about the whole thing.”

“Noona...”

“I'm serious. You haven't seen how anxious Mom's been over you. She's half afraid that you'll never come back, and that it will all be her fault. The least you could do is put her mind to rest so she can actually enjoy her summer without pulling her hair out.”

“Won't I just give her more reasons to pull it out if I come back?”

“That's for you to decide, brother. Just keep in mind that I'll be holding whatever I can get from Stan hostage until you make up your mind.”

After an exchange of goodbyes with Dayoung, Jaejoong hung up and turned to the window to watch the rain falling. He didn't want to go home. He wasn't brave enough yet. His mother may be upset without him there now, but within seconds she would be back to the fretting she did best. Jaejoong, is your nose still in that notebook of yours? Are you going to be like that through your university studies, too, never opening your eyes or making friends or meeting a nice girl to bring home?

He remembered what Auntie Minjung had told him about parents not wanting their children to suffer their same mistakes, but he wasn't sure this was the same. If it was just a matter of him having a good profession and making friends, that was one thing. But he wasn't going to be able to bring a nice girl home no matter else he did, and there wasn't going to be a way to get around it. His parents could forgive him everything else, but would they be able to forgive him for even that?

He heard footsteps padding down the stairs, and a few seconds later, Yunho was in the kitchen, looking dazed in his boxers with his head full of mussed up hair. Jaejoong quickly averted his eyes from the sight of Yunho's bare chest. He had recovered already from his earlier imaginings, but he didn't need to come up with any more.

“There you are,” Yunho said, yawning. “Thunder woke me up again, and when I looked, you weren't there. Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine.” Jaejoong continued to stare fixedly at the wall. “Um... if we're not working today, we won't have much going on today, will we? It's not like we can go outside...”

“Mmmm, probably right.”

“Would you mind, then... would you mind if I went to visit home for the day?”

Yunho seemed to wake up a little at that. “Just for the day?”

“Yeah. I thought I could go get my cell phone and some of my own clothes, things like that. See my parents and sisters.”

“Is it okay to walk back in this weather?”

“It's too far to walk; that's why I pretty much killed myself doing it last time in the heatwave. I'll take the bus, okay?”

“If that's what you want.” Yunho leaned in, making it impossible for Jaejoong to continue to avoid looking at him. “As long as you come back properly when you're done, all right? It'll be lonely here without you.”

“And you'll miss me cooking for you.”

“That too.” Yunho tugged on Jaejoong's hand, helping him to stand up. “The bus won't come for a few more hours, now. Come back and get some rest while you can, 'kay?”

Jaejoong smiled and allowed himself to be led back to the room. “I'm in no hurry to leave either,” he said softly when Yunho settled back into bed, but once again, he was sure Yunho was most of the way asleep and that the smile on his face was because of his dreams rather than the quiet sound of Jaejoong's voice.

0o0

The bus trip took about an hour, and the overcast landscape and constant drizzle made it a dull one. He'd carried his notebook back with him wrapped up in a plastic bag, so he used the time to get some writing done. He thought back to the emotions that had flooded his mind that morning, thinking first of the emptiness of wanting something he wouldn't be able to have. He rested the notebook on the back of the seat in front of him and placed his pencil against the empty lines. Because I was born as me, I couldn't know about this common kiss, this rough heart...

The bus lurched, and Jaejoong stopped for a minute. The rest of the words dangled on the tip of his pencil, but he remembered suddenly why he was here in the first place. He wanted to secure the recording equipment for Yunho and give him a happier song he could test it with. As much as Yunho loved listening to all of his songs, Jaejoong knew he worried when they touched on something that might reflect sadly back on his heart, especially in the songs he had written since they had met each other. Leaving the other words aside for a moment, he tried to hone in on the longing and how that good that had felt in spite of the conflicting emotions. He turned the page and began to write again. Just as always, you're so eye-blinding. I love you- I'll keep you like this. Very softly, come closer to me, closer now now now. I want you in my plans, I want you in my plans, babe...

After a few minutes, the bus came screeching to a halt, and Jaejoong was forced to shut his notebook and pull out his umbrella. Home sweet home, familiar territory. He lept down from the steps and began walking down the damp streets towards his house. His sisters were older, and most of them worked or had moved out, so it would probably be just him and his parents at the beginning. Better to get that over with as quickly as he could before his family members still living at home got back. He never fought with them, but their “discussions” usually put everyone in a bad mood for the day, as they rarely went terribly well.

Jaejoong knocked on the door and waited, closing his umbrella. He wondered briefly if he should have called them instead of just showing up, but decided it was better this way. They'd be touched and surprised, and maybe they'd forget about whatever other concerns they had in their happiness at seeing him healthy and taken care of.

His mother was the one to answer the door. The moment their eyes met, Jaejoong felt a crushing weight on his chest. There was such absolute joy and relief in her eyes when she looked at him that he wondered how he had been able to conscience causing her any pain. Things had been hard for him, there was no denying that, but it hadn't been any simpler for her. She hadn't done the best job in understanding him, but he had shut himself down from her and everyone else a long time ago. They had both done their share of messing up.

She opened her arms to him, and he stepped into them, allowing her to cradle his head in her arms. “Jaejoong,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Welcome back.”

“I'm home,” he whispered back. Cold raindrops were falling on the two of them, but he happily stayed where he was. This kind of truce wasn't guaranteed to last forever, and he wanted to hold on to her forgiveness while he still had it.

She was the first one to pull away. “You look like you've been eating well, at least. Come inside and say hello to your father. I just made some tea, so I'll pour a cup for you.” She ushered him inside and into the living room where his father was reading the newspaper on the couch. He was wearing his dress shirt and tie, so he must have been there for lunch break, judging by the time. He set down the newspaper when Jaejoong walked in the room, his eye brows lifting in surprise, but his reaction was more subdue than his wife's. He stood up to give his son a few hearty pats on the back, gestured for Jaejoong to sit, and waited for his wife to bring in the tea.

“You look like you've been putting on some muscle,” he said, looking Jaejoong up and down. “Are you doing difficult work?”

“The days always start out with heavy lifting when we're packing up crates to bring to the market, but after that's done, it's mainly just manning the booth.”

“And you're selling vegetables, Dayoung said?” He nodded in approval. “That's valuable work. Are you learning well?”

“Very well.”

“And the family you're staying with...?”

“They're all nice, and they've been treating me well.” He accepted the cup of tea his mother offered him. “I've made friends with Minjung-ssi's son since he's my age, and I've gotten to meet his friends from school.” See, I've been being good and trying to meet new people, all right?

His father smiled, but his mother still looked a little downcast. Her eyes traveled to his notebook, which was back to being wrapped in its protective bag. “You've been writing, too?”

“Yes,” he said, a little defensively. “And singing. Yunho is also a guitarist and vocalist, so we've been doing it together.”

“And you haven't been troubling his mother with this, have you?”

“I haven't met his mother,” Jaejoong said flatly. We're already back to this again. “Minjung-ssi is his aunt, but she hasn't been troubled by it. She says hearing Yunho singing happily makes her just as happy.”

His mother's hands began trembling against her tea cup. “I'm sure that made you pleased, Jaejoong. You sound like you've been doing better there than you've ever done here. Is another family really better for you, after all?”

To Jaejoong's amazement, tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, brushing her worries off with words of assurance, but even he knew this wouldn't go away if they never talked about it properly. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

“You're our only son, Jaejoong,” she said, wringing her hands. “I know we must have better at being parents to daughters after all those years, and we expected things from you that you couldn't do. We wanted you to be big and strong enough to protect your sisters and be a provider when you grew up, but no matter how healthily you grew up, you still kept locking yourself in your room and hiding from everyone who got close. I couldn't even tell what it was my precious son wanted.”

“That's not true,” Jaejoong said, shaking his head. “You knew I wanted to sing. You both did. And you only let me join choir when I begged, and whenever you see me writing a song, you get a look on your face like the world is ending. I don't have a single memory of you praising me for my singing, and even if I never said it out loud, I'm sure you could have figured out on your own that it was something I truly wanted!”

“Jaejoong,” his father said patiently, “you had always had difficulties making friends, even when you were little. Even if you preferred to sing, wouldn't it have been better to do it privately and do activities with the other boys instead?”

“More hiding,” Jaejoong said sharply. “I do enough of that already.”

“I know,” his mother answered, brushing away her tears. “I see that now. We've never been able to talk, but that's my fault as much as yours, because if you felt I was someone you could have told anything to, you would have. And the more used you got to hiding, the more you hid. I know I could have been more supportive, we both could have, but I was afraid for you. I still am, Jaejoong. You get hurt so easily, and you won't take that hurt to anyone and be comforted. I want to help you, but you can't bear living here anymore. Even strangers have been able to understand you better than I have.” She started crying again.

Jaejoong didn't know what to say. Nothing she was saying was incorrect. She was beginning to figure things out, but wasn't it getting to be too late? He'd needed her to make this kind of effort when he was younger and needed someone to unburden himself with, but by now he was used to not talking or sharing himself with others. It was love that was making him start to change, but not hers. It was Yunho; that was why he had been so special.

His mother brushed her tears away, firming herself up. “When you left-- when you ran away-- I knew I couldn't stay like this anymore. A mother who can't even face her son head on is no mother at all. If I don't change, I'm not even going to have a son who recognizes me, and I'd rather have a son that gives me difficulties and worries from time to time than no son at all. So if there's anything you need to tell me now, anything at all you've been afraid of having us know, I'm going to listen to you and still proudly call you my son no matter what it is.”

Jaejoong stared at her, his mouth falling open. They knew. Those weren't the kind of words you would say to someone whose greatest problem was that he cared more about his music than a more sensible career and had a hard time making friends. They had to know. He didn't know for how long, but somewhere along the line they must have taken his lack of interest for everything it was.

He wanted to panic first, and then to deny everything and protect himself, but his mother's words filled his head. I'm going to listen to you and still proudly call you my son no matter what it is. That was what he wanted. More than praise, more than the freedom to sing and write no matter how often he liked, more than all of the friends in the world. Tears collected in his eyes, threatening to fall. Maybe it wasn't too late after all. If they were willing to accept even that, wouldn't everything else become that much easier?

Jaejoong wanted to tell them, but stopped himself just short. “I'm only going to be here for a few hours before I have to go back,” he said, his voice breaking. “That's going to have to be a conversation for another time, but... if you think we should talk about it, we can talk about it. When I come back home. Because I will come back, okay?”

Their faces collapsed in relief, and his mother threw her arms around his shoulders, her small body shaking. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shirt, where she had buried her face. “You're my baby, Jae. If I keep on hurting you, I don't deserve to keep calling you that.”

“It's okay, umma,” he said, her back. “I'm fine now. I'm fine.”

He looked up and saw Dayoung watching them from the hallway, her briefcase in one hand and a heavy shopping bag with cords peeking out of the top in the other. She wore a shaky smile on her face, and when Jaejoong met her eyes, she mouthed thank you, but he shook his head and mouthed the same right back to her. It would take a little more than this to heal his heart, but all the same, it was a good place to start.

0o0

Jaejoong stayed for dinner so he could see his sisters before he left and properly avoid Auntie Minjung's lethal cooking. They made a big show of spoiling him, but like his parents, he could tell most of them were concerned about the circumstances that had caused him to leave in the first place. They seemed to perk up when he told them about Yunho, Changmin, Junsu, and Yoochun, and they peppered him with questions about Yunho in particular. Jaejoong was happy to talk about him as much as they wanted, but it did make him miss him a little bit. They hadn't even been apart for all that long, but he still worried sometimes that if he stayed away too long, it would be easy for Yunho to forget. He was only a temporary part of his life, after all, and Yunho would undoubtedly continue to have his own life when Jaejoong left it.

It was dark by time the bus came, and he had his hands full of bags of clothes to bring back as well as the microphones and software discs Dayoung's boyfriend had donated. In the same bag with his notebook was a pamphlet detailing how to submit an audition video to the company where Dayoung worked. He wasn't sure if he would be able to do it or not, but Dayoung had told him to at least give a thought to it.

Since he was in a much better mood, Jaejoong had no trouble finishing the second song he had started that morning, his excitement at coming back to Yunho with his gift making it easier to the confidence he needed to suggestively say I want you in my plans, babe. Once he was finished, he snapped a picture of his notebook on his phone and texted “I've got a new song for you ;)” to Yunho with the number he'd given him before he'd left. A few seconds later he got a text back that said “Can't wait to see it (and you)! ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ”

He grinned, trying not to feel too spoiled. At the end of the summer, he'd leave and not come back, so he resolved to enjoy this feeling of returning to someone he deeply loved and desperately wanted to see while it was still his to have.

"I want you in my plans, I want you in my plans, babe
In this already chosen story of the world
Closer now now now
I want you in my plans, I want you in my plans"