“…And so I thought, he looks like a fox.”

Changmin blurts out those words without thinking too much, but one glance at Jaejoong’s stiff expression reveals that he’s done far more damage than he intended. They both try to keep their tones light and nonchalant, but the subsequent awkwardness settles over the recording like a thick, heavy blanket that they can’t shake off.

Jaejoong bolts from the room once their couple talk segment finishes, and Changmin can’t even blame him for doing that.  

He doesn’t know why he says it, all of it, all those thoughts that have been locked away in his mind for what seems like forever. All he knows is that lately he’s been finding himself looking at their oldest bandmate while a feeling of tightness burgeons in his chest, looking and wanting, wanting something he knows he shouldn’t, simultaneously loving and hating the way Jaejoong appears so delicate, so feminine in spite of the masculine image they are trained to portray, the way that he tempts Changmin much like a fox spirit would before it devours its enraptured prey.

He lies in bed that night, tired and yet not sleepy. Beneath his lids he can still see Jaejoong trying to draw him into a reconciliatory hug, their bodies so close Changmin can smell his cologne, mild with the faintest scent of flowers mixed in. He remembers the galloping of his heartbeat, the flush that overtakes his face because the cameras are still rolling and his all-too-weak protests against something he has adamantly professed to hate.

The door to his room creaks and shudders, and Changmin holds his breath. In the darkness, he hears a husky whisper.

“Do you really hate it that much?”

Changmin opens his eyes. A shadow hovers over him smelling of bath soap and flowers. He doesn’t need the light to tell him who has paid him a nighttime visit.

“I…” he begins uncertainly, “I don’t like men.”

Jaejoong chuckles.”I know.”

“But now,” their eyes meet, “now you’ve made me confused.”

“I know.” Jaejoong is smiling gently.

Changmin tugs him down until their mouths are mere centimeters apart. “You have to take responsibility,” he mutters, and his oldest hyung’s response is a hearty laugh until Changmin kisses him feverishly, desperately and the only sounds he can make are breathless little gasps.

He sleeps particularly well that night, Jaejoong’s face buried in his chest and arms wrapped around Changmin’s waist.

…

It is precisely 53 minutes to Christmas, and TVXQ’s Shim Changmin sits disinterestedly in a corner of a quiet little bar. He wonders if he should feel sorry for himself, as he has contemplated every year after the band split, he and Yunho remaining under the original name of TVXQ while the other three formed their own trio JYJ.

It is the only day that Changmin allows himself any self-pity, indulging in what-ifs that he knows will never come to fruition. He thinks back on Jaejoong clutching at his hands as he struggles to break the news that he, Junsu and Yoochun have decided to sue the company, have decided to leave the group. He remembers asking why it can’t be all of them, just like their seniors Shinhwa, and being answered with a shake of the head and one word.

Yunho.

Yunho can’t, won’t leave SM Entertainment, and if Changmin goes too then who will Yunho have left? Jaejoong cries as he elaborates on the selfish logic that has brought them to that point, and Changmin cries right alongside him, because this isn’t how he thought it would end, TVXQ was supposed to be together forever.

By the time their tears have dried, leaving only tear tracks on their faces, Changmin feels like part of his heart has dried up, too. Jaejoong makes him promise to stay with Yunho, and he woodenly agrees. “We’ll overcome this hurdle and be reunited, Changmin,” Jaejoong smiles through fresh tears. “SoulFighter couple, fighting!”

The last kiss they share is salty with their tears, but Changmin doesn’t complain. He memorizes the feel of those lips against his, the slight flutter of Jaejoong’s eyelashes and the graceful arch of his neck as Changmin cradles the back of his head. As long as Jaejoong tells him, he’ll continue to believe.

Five years have passed and he still hasn’t forgotten.

He smiles ruefully at the memory, and he lifts the glass of brandy to his lips, toasting, “SoulFighter couple, Fighting!” to himself.

A voice from behind him says, “JoongShim, fighting!”

Changmin whips his head around. Jaejoong is standing in front of him, as if conjured by his thoughts. He stands and reaches out automatically to embrace him. The older man looks almost embarrassed by the open display of affection. Ironic, he muses with a wry twist of his lips, considering how often he used to embarrass Changmin with much worse antics back then.

“I thought you didn’t like men,” Jaejoong mumbles, clearly not expecting the affectionate greeting.

‘I don’t,” he answers matter-of-factly. “I like one man. You.” Jaejoong’s flustered expression is priceless, so Changmin does what he’s always done best around his favorite hyung.

He laughs.