Most nights, when they were home, Yoochun could be found at the piano. Sometimes he was practising, if he hadn't found time to do so earlier in the day. More often he was composing. Other times, he just played.

And then, there were the nights when Yoochun played jazz.

The first time Jaejoong had come home to hear the unfamiliar rhythms, his feet had moved almost of their own accord. Before he knew it he was in the workroom, his body swaying, his feet finding steps he'd never learned or practised, just following the sounds Yoochun's fingers coaxed from the piano keys.

The melodies washed through him, the rhythm added substance, and Jaejoong woke as if from a dream when Yoochun paused in his playing a long while later.

"What is that?" he asked, awed by the fact that he'd danced around the work room, without thought or choreography, without bumping into furniture, and without tripping over his own feet, for almost half an hour.

"Jazz," Yoochun smiled. "And you sound amazing singing it."

"I was singing?" Usually, Jaejoong put effort into his music. He worked at using his voice, at harmonies and expression. Not realising that he was singing was... disturbing. Or did he mean exhilarating?

"From the moment you came through the door. Really, I'm thinking of writing a few jazz numbers for our next album. Your voice sounds that amazing. And I'm thinking when Junsu comes back from his tour, he will love it, too."

Yoochun hadn't been wrong. He seldom was when it came to such things. The next time Jaejoong came home to the haunting sounds, he found Junsu sitting on the piano bench beside Yoochun, keeping time with chopsticks and humming along to an intricate melody. And Jaejoong leaned his back against the workroom door and started to sing. Just like that.