When Yoochun, Junsu, and Changmin returned, they found Yunho still kneeling on the floor next to the couch. He was still cradling Jaejoong in his arms. The next thing they saw was the broken vase and scattered roses.

Yoochun knelt next to Yunho and placed a hand on his shoulder. “What happened?” he asked.

Yunho shook his head. “I have no idea,” he said. “I was in the bedroom when I heard the sound of glass breaking. I came out here to find Jaejoong on the couch. I tried to get him to talk but he refused to. He fell asleep just a little bit ago.”

“Let’s get him to bed,” Yoochun said and Yunho nodded in agreement, glad for the excuse to get up and stretch out his legs. Jaejoong was getting heavy and his knees were sore from kneeling for so long. With Yoochun’s help, he picked Jaejoong up and carried him into the bedroom he and Yoochun shared. They placed Jaejoong on his bed and covered him up then went back to the living room. While they had been gone, Junsu and Changmin had busied themselves with cleaning up the glass.

Yunho collapsed on the couch in relief. It had been a long day and he was worn out. Yoochun sat next to him. Yunho glanced over at the younger man. The look on his face told Yunho that Yoochun was pissed at him; however, Yoochun didn’t say anything. He just sat there, staring at the blank television screen. Yunho tried to ignore Yoochun. But as they continued to sit there, not talking to each other, Yunho grew impatient. The younger man had no reason to be upset with him.

“I didn’t do anything to him, Yoochun,” Yunho said.

“I know you didn’t,” Yoochun said but Yunho wasn’t convinced.

“Do you?” Yunho asked. He knew he fought with Jaejoong a lot, and he was mature enough to admit to himself that sometimes their arguments got out of control. But Yunho had done nothing to Jaejoong to warrant Yoochun’s scorn. He was tired of always being treated like the bad guy. Whenever something went wrong with Jaejoong, he was always the one to take the blame for it.

“I’m going to bed,” Yunho said, his voice curt. Yoochun didn’t respond.

-----

Jaejoong woke up alone the next morning. With a groan, he rolled over onto his side and slowly slid off the bed. He must have been sleeping for a long time because he was starving. But before making his way to the kitchen, he shuffled wearily into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. His cheeks had that tight, pinched feeling they always got after he’d spent a lot of time crying.

After he had freshened up, he left the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen. As he moved down the hallway, he could hear the sounds of talking in the living room. For a moment, Jaejoong felt disoriented. It was weird to have everybody home on a Saturday. Jaejoong briefly wondered if something bad had happened but after a moment, he let the thought go. He shouldn’t question the rare day off, he should just try to enjoy it as much as he could.

Upon entering the kitchen, Jaejoong flipped the light switch and was bathed in a warm yellow light. He took the time to stop and stretch then made his way to the fridge. There wasn’t much in it, and Jaejoong made a mental note to go to the market later and pick up some groceries. For now, sandwiches would have to suffice. He quickly put together five chicken sandwiches and stacked them up on a plate. He then grabbed a pitcher of iced tea and five cups.

There were footsteps in front of him and then somebody was gathering the cups he was trying to juggle. Jaejoong raised his eyes slowly and was pinioned by Yunho’s gaze.

“Let me help you,” Yunho said and shot Jaejoong a hopeful smile.

“Okay,” Jaejoong said, returning Yunho’s smile. He couldn’t help it. Yunho looked so unsure of himself, something that Jaejoong wasn’t used to seeing. It was endearing.

Jaejoong followed Yunho into the living room. He placed the plate of sandwiches on the coffee table in front of the couch then went over to sit in his favorite chair. He sank back into the soft cushions and sighed in relief. It felt good to relax. Perhaps, if Yoochun was up to it, they could go out to the river later. It’d been a while since Jaejoong had been there and he sorely missed the sound of the water as it lapped against the bank. He had always found it easier to think when he was around water.

Once everyone had finished their lunch, Jaejoong gathered up the dirty dishes and brought them into the kitchen to begin cleaning up. As he worked, he sang quietly under his breath. He was so distracted, he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind him until a warm hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. Jaejoong, startled, spun around and found himself face to face with Yoochun.

“You scared me,” Jaejoong breathed, one hand clutching his chest as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

“Sorry, hyung.”

“What is it, Yoochun?” Jaejoong asked. Yoochun looked distracted by something.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jaejoong froze and his pulse began to race. He didn’t want to talk. Talking was dangerous.

“Talk about what?” Jaejoong asked, trying to sound blasé. He knew he failed when his voice cracked on the last word.

“I wanted to talk about what happened last night,” Yoochun said. He looked vaguely uncomfortable, like he wasn’t sure how to act around Jaejoong.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaejoong said.

Yoochun rolled his eyes and sighed. Jaejoong felt bad for being obstinate. He knew Yoochun was just trying to be helpful. It was just too hard for him to open up to other people, especially about something like this.

“I’m sorry, Yoochun,” Jaejoong said. “Honestly, I’m alright.”

“Bull,” Yoochun deadpanned. He grabbed Jaejoong by the arms and shook him lightly. “Don’t lie to me, Jaejoong. I know you better than that. Please, talk to me. I just want to help you.”

Jaejoong shook his head. “Nobody can help me.”

“I can. I will. But you have to let me in!” Yoochun pleaded. “Please talk to me, Jaejoong. I know something is wrong.”

Jaejoong had kept his head down during Yoochun’s speech. But when Yoochun had finished talking, Jaejoong slowly raised his eyes to Yoochun’s. The kindness in Yoochun’s eyes called out to him. He wanted to tell Yoochun, needed to tell somebody before he exploded.

Jaejoong took a deep breath then took the plunge. “I think I’m in love, Yoochun,” he whispered.

Yoochun was floored. Out of all the things Jaejoong could have said, that was the last thing Yoochun had expected to hear.

“Who is she?” Yoochun asked, curious. Who could have caught Jaejoong’s eye? As far as Yoochun knew, Jaejoong hadn’t dated since before he left his country village. They simply didn’t have the time for such things.

“It isn’t a she,” Jaejoong whispered. At first, Yoochun wasn’t sure he had heard right. But the longer he stared at Jaejoong, the more it dawned on him what Jaejoong had just said.

“Oh, Jaejoong,” Yoochun didn’t know what to say. How does somebody react to an admission like that from one of their friends?

“Yoochun?”

Jaejoong looked scared, like he was preparing himself for some disaster. His body was taut and the muscles underneath Yoochun’s fingers were shaking. His eyes were frantically searching Yoochun’s face, desperately looking for some indicator of what Yoochun was thinking at that moment. Yoochun knew he should say something, anything to calm his friend and assuage his pain, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. He just stood there and held Jaejoong as he tried to process everything.

“Please don’t hate me,” Jaejoong whispered. He looked so tortured, like he was about to fall apart in Yoochun’s arms. Finally, Yoochun found his voice.

“I don’t hate you, Jaejoong. I could never hate you,” he said and pulled Jaejoong into a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” Jaejoong whispered against the skin of Yoochun’s neck. There were no more words to be said. Yoochun stood there in the middle of the kitchen, rocking Jaejoong back and forth. Every so often, a shudder would pass through Jaejoong’s body and Yoochun would turn his head and kiss his temple to soothe away the hurt. Who could have done this to Jaejoong?

Suddenly it dawned on him. The moment it did, Yoochun felt his blood go cold in his veins.

“Oh, Jaejoong,” he repeated and held his friend even tighter.