A/N: This one went a little crack on me. A known side-effect of watching Yoochun smile. That dimple can cause blackouts, I'm sure. Still, after a week of constant headaches and not writing very much, I'm grateful. Even though I can't ever get Yoochun to sound the way I want him to.

Yoochun was equally skilled at reading sign language.

Jaejoong's concert tour had ended two days earlier and while the fan cafes went mad with images, impressions and reviews, Jaejoong's Twitter account stayed as silent as his Instagram. He wasn't showing off his post-concert dinner, didn't talk about sleeping for days or how much he appreciated his fans. He didn't even post pictures of his trip home, JiJi or the shopping he was doing.

It wasn't at all what Yoochun was used to.

The fact that Jaejoong was equally silent in private—no phone calls and no texts at odd hours despite the fact that he was on downtime now—was even more suspicious.

All three had each others' schedules and a rule not to call or text while someone was on stage or in the middle of filming or recording. It was a rule they tended to stick to, since interruptions would make their already long days only more endless. So Yoochun hadn't expected to hear from Jaejoong while Jae took his last solo stage, or while Yoochun wrapped up filming his latest drama.

But now that Jae's last concert was done and that Yoochun was free to head home, his phone should have been glowing red hot with messages. That it wasn't could only mean one thing.

One thing that was immeasurably scary and immeasurably exciting all at once.

Are you where I think you are? he texted to Jaejoong's phone before he got into his car outside the film studio.

The answer came in seconds. Yes!!!

Anything you want me to bring?

There was no question that Yoochun would head to the address they all had memorised without a moment's delay. Even if he had to dress in Hanbok and fight his way through fans and reporters to get out of the studio parking lot.

Fruit. Juice. Lemons. Ginger. Distraction.

Like the rest of them, Yoochun had learned sign language a very long time ago. He also spoke fluently Jaejoong. And probably wore a frown fierce enough to match the one he could sense in Jae's message.

Still, in the grand scheme of things, the reason's didn't matter. Only the outcome did. So, armed with Jae's instructions, Yoochun climbed into his car and called his brother. Then he went shopping, aware of the cameras trailing him at a distance. He made sure to keep them in sight, dragging them across the large mall from store to store, each stop more unlikely than the one before, buying items he'd never need and items that left the sales girls gaping… while his brother was doing the real shopping well out of sight of anyone nosy enough to pry. He had a small gleeful giggle in his heart while he did it, but was too good an actor to let the matching smirk show anywhere on his face. He only hoped that both Jae and Junsu would forgive him for sacrificing their cats to to the greater good that would be a reunion of five if he had any say in the matter at all.

***

It was four hours later that he pulled into the underground garage of Yunho and Changmin's apartment building. By then, Yoochun was thrumming with impatience, and feeling more than a little desperate. He was also in his third change of clothes and the fourth car since he'd left the studio parking lot, having orchestrated a veritable chase across the city to facility his chance of getting away unseen. He worried a little about the wellbeing of his favourite set of wheels, currently being driven around the city by a friend of his brother's and his very appreciative girlfriend, hoping the two would manage to return the car safely to his home.

Car worries, though, couldn't intrude for long. He was far more concerned about the wellbeing of the three friends currently hiding out in Yunho and Changmin's apartment. And keeping them safe and out of the news was only a small part of that worry.

Because even after all this time, sneaking didn't come naturally to Yoochun. Jaejoong had always been the best at slipping away unseen, hiding from cameras and minders and finding ways to do things he wasn't supposed to do without being found out. He'd tried to teach them all, but—unless one's name was Changmin—the lessons's hadn't really stuck.

But Yoochun was good a charades and being an actor had its advantages.

At the very least, he could take the heat off the others for a while.

Right then, he was glad that he'd ended up with the black saloon with the tinted windows, despite that morning's urge to celebrate the last day of filming by taking the convertible out for a run. He'd never have made it past the line of reporters and the gaggle of fan girls camped outside the apartment building if he'd stayed in the topless car. Not with the fancafes buzzing about the seeming disappearance of the two stars who lived here, and the lack of any official comments to dispel the rumours.

He wouldn't have made it inside the underground parking lot, either, if Jaejoong hadn't texted him the code for the barriers and the code that allowed the lift all the way up to the penthouse floor.

And that just made him wonder how Jaejoong had gotten in. But it was a question he could ask later.

Yoochun felt like a camel, loaded down with bags and bags of groceries—he'd left the bags of cat toys and expensive lingerie in the boot of his convertible—and unaccountably nervous as the doors of the lift closed around him and he pressed a finger against the button denoting the seventeenth floor.

At the same time, though, he couldn't stop grinning.

***

"Were you careful?" was the first thing out of Jaejoong's mouth when he opened the door. They'd changed his hair to auburn with red and copper highlights since Yoochun had last seen his friend and he took a second to look. He noticed more than the hair, though. Jae looked ragged, as if he hadn't slept, the bags under his eyes dark as bruises. Despite that, though, a soft glow had replaced the hint of sadness that had long been present in Jae's gaze. And alongside that softness was an edge of tightly leashed anger.

Yoochun curled an arm around Jae's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He wanted to ask how Yunho and Changmin were doing, wanted to ask if he'd even be welcome here—but as often before Jae ran to a different timetable. One that didn't brook interruptions or deviations.

"Were you careful?" he demanded again.

"I came in the red convertible, roof down and the stereo blaring Catch Me," Yoochun dimpled as he took off his shoes and coat and put them away neatly. "I also had a sign on the roof telling everyone where I was going."

"How can you have a sign on the roof if you have the roof down?"

"You wouldn't understand," Yoochun clapped him on the shoulder. "It's a car thing." He picked up the bags and held them out. "Where do you want all this? I feel like I hijacked a grocery store."

"Yoochunnie?"

Sleep roughened and raspy from the cold, but Yoochun would have recognised that voice even in a crowd. He whipped around, heart beating up a storm, and found a very pale Changmin leaning in the doorway.

Yoochun stared at the riot of damp curls that framed his face and when had Min's cheek bones become sharp enough to bend light? More than the hollow cheeks, though, seeing Changmin's badly chapped and bitten lips caught at Yoochun's heart. His eyes grew hot at the sight and he swallowed.

"Hey, I even remembered to bring honey bombs for your lips, baby," the wide grin took all the acting skills he'd learned, but he managed it. Just.

"Did you bring pineapple juice?""

"You don't like pineapple juice."

"Hyung does," their maknae replied, and Yoochun sighed in relief when he realised that—despite their long separation—nothing had changed. When their leader was sick, Changmin worried. About ludicrous things like pineapple juice. Or Yunho waking up in a hospital bed without anyone familiar by his side. Yoochun remembered that epic fight as if it had happened yesterday. He remembered the shocked, disbelieving faces of their managers even better. None of them had expected the baby to have teeth. And use them.

"I even brought fresh pineapples," he assured, "and mangoes," and found himself with an armful of grateful maknae.

"Jae said you'd know what to get," Changmin mumbled into his neck as they hugged, but it's been so long and…"

"Do you think the air's too thin up there?" Yoochun asked Jaejoong. "He seems to have forgotten a lot!"

"Try First Aid. Get him to a lower elevation. See if the symptoms improve."

"You think you're so funny."

"Memory loss isn't remotely funny in someone as young as you," Yoochun chided, smiling though his eyes were stinging with tears.

"And memory loss in someone as old as you is totally normal, so excuse me for making the assumption."

"And here's the Shim Changmin we all know and love. Glad to know the cold hasn't impaired your bratty ways." He slung an arm around Changmin's waist and dragged the only mildly protesting man to the sofa. "I can't believe that Jae gave the game away," he complained while he wrapped the blanket back around his dongsaeng. "I was supposed to surprise you two."

"Yunho went down like a ton of bricks last night," Jaejoong said, carrying a laden tray into the room. "And Min tried to get up and go shopping for pineapple juice. I had to stop him." He handed a plate of sliced mango to Changmin and a mug of coffee to Yoochun, before reaching for his own mug of tea and settling on the far end of the couch with a little relieved sigh.

"How is Yunho?"

"Sleeping." The soft smile on Jaejoong's face was one Yoochun hadn't seen in ages and it warmed his heart having it there once more. "Fever broke about an hour ago."

"He'll be starving when he wakes up." Despite Jae's reassuring tone, Changmin was still concerned and Yoochun automatically wrapped both arms around the younger man, effectively stopping his attempts to throw off the blanket and get up once more. "There's enough food in this apartment to feed two of you and a small army," he teased gently. "And have you ever known Jae to turn down an opportunity to cook?"

"Kimchi jjigae?"

"How about ginseng chicken soup?" Jae bargained, the pout coming out when Changmin made a face. "It's liquid penicillin, that soup. It will help both of you shake your cold faster. We can have jjigae tomorrow."

"Yes, dongsaeng, show respect for the poor chicken that died to cure your cold."

"Lame, Chunnie. You used to be better at teasing. Much better."

"I'm being considerate, since the cold has clearly impaired your mental faculties."

"How do you figure that?" Changmin sputtered indignantly, but the slightly worried look in Jaejoong's eyes dissipated and that was what Yoochun had been aiming for. Jae had finally found his way back to Yunho and Changmin. He shouldn't have to worry. If Yoochun had to tie the maknae to the couch, he'd do it in a flash.

"The memory loss is significant," Yoochun proclaimed in a voice of doom. "You're talking, Changmin!"

"He is, isn't he? He clearly lost all his sign language skills."

"I did not!" Changmin yelled, and promptly doubled over coughing or laughing, it wasn't easy to tell.

"Maybe you should remind him how it's done," Jaejoong suggested. "Tell us how you got here. In sign language."

It took an hour of Yoochun proving his acting mastery by telling the story of his car chase / shopping spree in detail… and in total silence… until Changmin finally fell into an exhausted sleep, the dark circles under his eyes pronounced and a thin line of sweat beading his upper lip.

Jaejoong tucked the blanket back around him and sighed. "He worries too much."

"He always has and you won't change him," Yoochun smiled. "Go check on Yunho. I'll keep an eye on the brat."

And for the next two hours Yoochun was content to lounge on the sofa with Changmin's head in his lap, glad that—for a time—he was done with masks and charades. That he could stop joking and pretending. That he could simply sit and dab honey on Changmin's chapped lips without another care in the world.