“Impossible...” thought Junsu as the shouted vocalization of his name echoed within his own head and a faint panic flickered within him. “No one knows I’m in Korea.”

Uncertain of the situation he now found himself in, Junsu chooses to ignore the source of his worry and quickens his pace towards the subway station. With each step, his pace hastens even more, as the sound of the hurriedly following footsteps from behind grow louder and louder. Seeming to match his own and then overshadow them in the blink of an eye. He hurries, even more, settling in an almost run-like rhythm as his heart races in tune with the ever-growing panic that is thrumming wildly within him. The footsteps behind him never falter, growing ever closer with every second, until suddenly Junsu feels a hand grab him by his forearm and it snatches him around forcefully. On instinct, Junsu closes his eyes and throws up his untethered arm to shield his face waiting for the unknown.

“Yah!” growled out the stranger before him, his voice forcing its way through heavy breaths. “Why did you run, Su-Su?”

Su-Su? thought Junsu curiously. How could he...

Dropping his arm from his face slowly, he opens his eyes hesitantly to find the man from the bakery who had been stealing glances at him standing before him.

“What do you want?”

Junsu strained the question apprehensively. The man looked faintly familiar but he’s unable to discern from when or where.

“Don’t you recognize me?” the man questions, in an incredulous and bewildered tone, as he reaches up and pulls his sunglasses from his eyes. “It’s me.”

“Yoo...Yoochun?” questioned Junsu as he looks into the face of a man, a friend, he hadn’t seen in six years. “Is...Is that you?”

“Yeah.” chuckled the man as he releases his grip on Junsu’s forearm.

“Was that you, in the restaurant?” asked Junsu curiously. He looks like the man but he doesn’t want to believe that they are the same. If so, that would mean that he had rudely dismissed someone who was once his dearest friend as a creepy stranger.

“Yeah.” smiled Yoochun. 

“Wow,” breathed out Junsu, his disappointment in his own actions making him feel almost guilty.

“I see,” Yoochun sighs.

“So, I take it that you didn’t ignore me because you were mad at me, like I thought.” mused Yoochun. “It was because you didn’t recognize me, is that it?”

“Oh,” vocalizes Junsu, in agreement, as he instinctively lowers his head apologetically. “Sorry, Yoochun.”

“Don’t be,” Yoochun dismisses with a wave of his hand. “It has been six years after all.”

“So, how ya been?” he questions politely.

“Good,” replied Junsu with a slight smile.

“When did you get back?”

“Couple of days ago.”

“Since you’re back,” ventured Yoochun. “That must mean you managed to get a contract?”

“Yeah,” smiled Junsu as he looks up at Yoochun. “Signed a couple of months ago.”

“Oh, really?” replied Yoochun. “That’s great! Which company?”

“L&M Entertainment.”

“That’s run by President Chong, right?” he questioned. “The one that manages both Korean and Chinese artists?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” nodded Junsu.

“How are they treating you, so far?”

“Pretty good.”

“Did they put you up in a decent place?” prompted Yoochun. “They don’t have you staying in some crappy hostel or anything, do they?”

“No.” replied Junsu. “They set me up an apartment in the Itaewon area. Guess they thought I’d be more comfortable around all the foreigners than with my own people. You know, since I lived overseas for so long.”

“Probably.” nodded Yoochun. “It has been a long time since you’ve been here. Makes sense that they would at least go that route, just to help you re-acclimate back into Korean society.”

“Man...” exasperated Yoochun, seemingly out of nowhere. “I can’t believe you’re really here. It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again.”

“Well, coming back to Korea,” countered Junsu with a smile. “Was always my plan, you know?”

“I know.” nodded Yoochun. “But, I figured...when you stopped writing...that you had ended up getting in a contract there. That you were so busy that you didn’t have time for little old me anymore.”

“Nonsense.” dismissed Junsu, though in his heart he instantly began to feel guilty.

“So,” ventured Yoochun, a slight tinge of worry lacing his voice. “Should I dare to ask why you stopped writing?”

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t.” sighed Junsu sadly.

“No problem,” smiled Yoochun. “It’s ok. I won’t ask.”

“Thanks.”

“This calls for a celebration,” offered Yoochun happily. “Hey, why don’t we go out and do something? A night on the town, to celebrate your homecoming?”

“That way we can catch up,” he added.

“I don’t know,” hesitated Junsu. “I’m not really the partying sort.”

“Since when?” countered Yoochun curiously. “We used to go out all the time, back in the day.”

“I don’t know,” sighed Junsu. “I guess I kind of grew out of the party-hard lifestyle, you know?”

“Oh...come on,” urged Yoochun. “Let’s live a little, at least. It’s not like I’ll go as far as to recreate that night in New York, or anything.”

“Oh, Lord.” sighed Junsu as the memory of that fateful night flickered across his mind.

“No crazy antics or getting so loaded that we end up streaking through the park for s and giggles.” he smiled.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” promised Yoochun, raising his hand up in a mock recreation of the boy scout oath. “I swear.”

“Let’s just do something simple,” he continued. “There are a few great clubs around Itaewon that aren’t as wild as the clubs in the US.”

“As a matter of fact...” he added. “Now that I think about it...There’s this one, in particular, that I think you would really like.”

“It’s fairly popular, and quite eccentric too,” smiled Yoochun. “You’ll love it.”

“Oh really?” questioned Junsu. “What’s it called?”

“REVOL,” smiled Yoochun.

“REVOL?”

“Yeah...REVOL.” nodded Yoochun. “You know: it’s the word, for lover in English, spelled backward.”

“Oh?” replied Junsu as the name of the club, and its meaning, began to make sense a little. “That’s interesting. Different, unique even, but interesting.”

“So do you want to go?” questioned Yoochun hopefully. “Tonight maybe?”

“How about tomorrow?” countered Junsu. “I still have a few things to do today. And by the time I’m done, I’ll be too tired to do anything.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” mused Yoochun for a second. “Yeah, sure we can do it tomorrow. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Sound’s good, then.” nodded Junsu.

“Is that a yes, then?” he prompted.

“Yes, it’s a yes.” smiled Junsu.

“Outstanding,” Yoochun replied cheerfully. “Give me your phone, and I’ll give you my number.”

“Ok,” answered Junsu as he fished his phone from his jacket pocket and handed it to the man before him.

 “There,” muttered Yoochun, handing Junsu back his phone a few seconds later.

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” he prompted as he glanced at the street and noticed a black sedan pull up before looking back at Junsu. “I need to head out now, got work to do. But I will call you later, ok?”

“Yeah. Sure,” nodded Junsu understandingly.

“Ok,” smiled Yoochun. “Talk to you later.”

“Yeah, you too,” he smiled.

“Bye,” waved Yoochun before he turned and climbed into the awaiting sedan a few feet away.

As the car pulled away from the curb and into traffic, Junsu couldn’t help but sigh at how his day had changed so quickly. He had ventured out with a purpose, to check out his new company and spend a little time in the city, only to run into someone that he never thought he would ever see again. Someone that till that moment when he saw Yoochun’s face, he never really wanted to see ever again.

It was springtime in New York City, a slightly chilly morning near Chinatown when they had first met. Junsu had just exited the subway station on Canal Street, after a particularly arduous and exhausting audition for a theater company, when he literally ran into the man.

Junsu had cut the corner of the block, having always subconsciously chosen to walk close to buildings whenever he ventured into the city, only to come face to face –and coincidently, body to body– with a tall man dressed in a fairly expensive suit. The man had been rushing, not paying attention to anything but the cell phone glued to his ear when they had collided. The impact, slightly forceful, was just enough to knock the aspiring dancer to the ground.

The moment was awkward at first, as the man flashed a concerned smile and helped Junsu up. In a slightly baritone voice, he had apologized for not watching where he was going but Junsu had dismissed it earnestly, claiming the fault was his own. This act of humility had made the man smile, impressed by how polite the young man was being. He introduced himself properly to the young dancer and once again apologized, offering up a meal on his dime as a sort of an apologetic remuneration for the harm he had caused. Junsu couldn’t help but feel somewhat impressed by the man’s sincerity, so he accepted.

Later on that evening, he ventured from his run-down hotel room on the lower east side to the restaurant the man had suggested to be their place for dinner that evening. When he arrived in Korean Town, he suddenly felt a little dismayed. During their brief encounter, not once did Junsu mention the fact that he was of Korean birth, and the man –who had only introduced himself as Micky– had never mentioned his last name. He was Asian by descent, that much was clear by his handsome face and clear complexion, but Junsu hadn’t been sure of the man’s specific heritage. So the idea that he was going to have dinner with the man in a place so reminiscent of his motherland had made him wonder.

When they began their meal, the atmosphere once again had been awkward. Junsu didn’t know what to say to the man that clearly came from some higher cast in life.

They were sitting in a private room, on the third floor of a very expensive and well-known Korean restaurant where none but the two of them and private wait staff were allowed to be. The room was decorated with recreations of ancient scrolls depicting scenes from Korean history and authentic looking and handmade Korean furniture. The lights were slightly dimmed and the air smelled of the sweetness of jasmine and the hint of cooking food, as the flicker of candlelight danced across a beautifully elegant, and large, traditional rosewood tea table before them.

Micky had been the one to break the silence, trying to amusedly comment on the awkwardness of the mood and by doing so had somehow broken the spell of wary that lurked within Junsu’s mind. After that they had begun to talk, to learn more about one another, and over time Junsu had begun to realize that the man before him was not only of Korean descent, such as he but that he was a fairly fun-loving and kind sort.

They became fast friends, and over the months after that day, they had become quite close.

However, though the atmosphere when they were around one another had always seemed cordial and respectful of one’s personal space, Junsu couldn’t help but feel as if the man was sizing him up from time to time. He wasn’t sure why that thought had made him feel a bit uneasy but he tried his best to ignore it because he liked the man. He was kind, and nice, and completely charming. He was always there to cheer him up when he felt down or to distract him when his life seemed a little far too mundane and monotonous. He had become a trusted friend, someone to turn to when his life felt it was going off course, and the thought of having someone like that in his life had felt like a blessing.

But, as time went onward, the man; who's given name had been Yoochun; had begun to make off-handed remarks in regards to Junsu’s dating life and the lack thereof. At first, it had been in a lighthearted manner but as time passed the comments seemed to become even more pointed. As if Yoochun was somehow, or in some way, hinting that a man at his age shouldn’t be alone. That being single, was almost a crime in his eyes. Junsu had taken the man’s concern in stride, believing for the most part that it was just that, of simple concern and hope for his happiness. But, after a while, the comments got more and more frequent. So much so that Junsu couldn’t help but internally cringe when the subject was brought up. He had tried to brush aside Yoochun’s concern, electing to use the importance of establishing his career as the excuse for his lack of intermingling with potential life partners. And he’d thought, with that explanation given, that the matter had been settled to some to a degree.

Until, one night, it happened. Junsu had ventured back into the city from his home in the suburbs for another monotonous audition and had found himself rejected once more. Feeling a little disheartened by the lack of progression his career had been making lately, he had called Yoochun and asked if he wanted to hang out. Yoochun had accepted, almost too eagerly, but Junsu hadn’t been of the mind to notice the near-joy in the man’s voice when he had offered.

They had settled on meeting up at Yoochun’s penthouse apartment in lower Manhattan, and Junsu couldn’t wait to see his friend.

When he arrived, Yoochun had been standing in the kitchen in front of the stove as the dinner he was making for them simmered and sizzled on the top. Junsu had made a random comment about not knowing that the man could actually cook and that had spurred a serious, yet playful, debate on the necessity of knowing the proper way to season pan-seared halibut. It was fun, and funny all at the same time and Junsu couldn’t help but feel a bit better.

Yoochun could always do that, make him feel such at ease, and he loved it.

Night had already fallen over the city, the view from the large floor to ceiling windows that encased the living area was alight with the twinkling city lights as the half-moon shown down from a cloudless and star-filled sky, by the time they had finished their meal. Junsu had felt content about how his night had ended. A good meal with a good friend. He was happy, comfortable, so when Yoochun had suggested the settled down in the living room to watch a movie on his giant flat-screen television, Junsu had accepted the idea willingly.

They settled on watching a movie that they had both enjoyed before, a light-hearted romantic comedy starring Jennifer Lopez and Matthew McConaughey, and while sipping a ’68 French Chablis from Yoochun’s private wine collection they sunk down into the living room’s plush sofa contentedly. Several glasses of the exquisite wine later, the pair were so relaxed that if they’d allowed it they would have simply drifted off to dreamland unhindered. Junsu had felt that way, tired from his busy day and lulled by the lushness of the wine. It was nice, so very, very nice that before he realized it, he had dozed off.

Some hours later he was awakened by the feel of a strange sensation pulsing through his inebriated and sleepy haze. He didn’t know what was going on, unsure of what he was feeling, but a small part of him had welcomed the sensation. It took a few moments before his clouded mind became somewhat clearer and he finally opened his eyes to see the source of what he was feeling. When his eyes landed on Yoochun’s face and saw the look in the man’s eyes, something from deep inside of him instantly snapped.

He still doesn’t remember what happened after that. He barely remembers the feeling of being completely surprised, then confused, and then suddenly angry. He barely remembers the smell in the room, the look in Yoochun’s eyes, and his hands where they should never have been. He barely remembers the feeling of betrayal, of being lied to and led on by sweetened smile and a kind word, and the flash of a nearly salacious grin from the man that he had trusted completely.

But the strike, the strike: done by his own hand, he clearly remembers.

Their friendship ended that day. Junsu had told himself that he would never again trust Yoochun in any way. The man had betrayed the sense of safety that he had once held in the man’s presence with just one alcohol-fueled night of misbehavior. And, Junsu could never forgive him.

In the years following that night, years that seemed far emptier than any of those that came before Yoochun, Junsu had come to terms with what had happened between him and the man. He realized that Yoochun had never truly seen him as just a friend, that from the very beginning the man had done so much and was so kind simply because he had been attracted to him. Junsu had never seen it. Yoochun’s, now, blatantly obvious and wanton need for him and had never thought of the man in such a way. For a while, he had blamed himself. Thinking that somehow, in some way, he had managed to lead Yoochun on, giving him the wrong impression of his intentions within their friendship. But after time he had realized that he hadn’t done such a thing. The two of them had started their friendship already on two different paths, and neither of them even noticed.

After two years of absolutely no contact, it was Junsu who was the first to extend the olive branch. He had decided that even though they had started off, on the wrong foot, to simply throw away a friendship that he had adored simply because of a misunderstanding was not the best path to choose. Yoochun had been happy, his voice leaving no room for unsureness when Junsu had called to apologize. They talked for several hours, as they tried to settle their differences amicably, and eventually settled on a single truth: they could never be more than just friends, as Yoochun had hoped, but they could still be friends. Yoochun believed that if he couldn’t have Junsu in the way he wanted, that being friends was better than nothing at all, and even though there was now an entire ocean between them, he had agreed.

Their friendship stayed strong for just over a year, writing letters back and forth to one another, from the US to Korea and back, until Junsu’s letters suddenly stopped with no real explanation.

Yoochun never knew why the letters had stopped, and Junsu knew he would never have the heart to tell him why.

“Sorry...Yoochun,” frowned Junsu, as a man from his past flickered across his mind for a split second, and he turned his eyes from the street and quietly made his way down the stairs towards the subway station’s platform.

A/N: With the utmost respect to my readers, I ask you to please comment on the story as it progresses. Since this is a JaeSu fic, and as such won't get that much readership (since it's not Yunjae) your feedback is in need more than any of my other currently running fics. Truthfully, I am disappointed already by the lack of subscribers, in comparison to my Yunjae based fics, so I am feeling a little disheartened -to the point that I am second-guessing the decision to make this JaeSu rather than the latter. So, please let me know what you think of the story so far and if you want to add suggestion on how you would like to see the story progress, please do that also. I get some of my best tertiary mini/subplots and scenes from what my readers speculate. Thanks. ^_^ ~KpopNoona