Fast fingers move across the counter, dipping into drawers to pull out wads, and wads, of old photos carelessly placed aside in a mad rush to simply hide away mess after mess. A sigh leaves his lips, a complaint echoing in his mind towards a past version of himself for his laziness.

But then he curses his present self for choosing today of all days to have started the task of spring cleaning.

“Well, it’s now or never.” He thinks to himself, deft fingers turning over the polaroid’s stacked in his hands with a flick of his wrist.

A rather grim expression coils its way across his face as he catches sight of 5 familiar people from the past, each donning matching smiles, and pressed in so closely together that it’s near impossible to dismiss the years of easy friendship being showcased.

“Ah…” He can only think sadly, moving the picture to the back, instead glancing to the next one in the pile, and urging himself to press down the cold feeling of bitter longing that swamps its way into his stomach.

Another photo of the same people stares back at him, all with the same expressions, only this time in a different location, pressed closely together into frame. His lips betray him, a sad smile slides into place, memories flooding forth.

Like a bad addiction, he ploughs on, forgetting entirely about the mug of coffee he’d left steaming on the kitchen counter, and sets himself down on his sofa, flipping through the photos slowly. Each one brings back its own unique memory attached it to, and before he even realises it, he’s over 10 years deep into the past with a pretty sunset glowing in from the windows.

His mind wanders frequently to the past, it’s not something he would ever try to deny, and he often finds himself pondering the ways in which things might have turned out differently. If maybe: he’d said something else, done something else, waited longer before making rash decisions. Would it have changed things for the better? Or was their future already predetermined from the start?

A selfish part of him likes to think there might have been a different road. That there was a world out there where things had turned out differently, a world in which they were still together and happy.

“Not likely.” The negative part of his brain chips in. “You burnt that bridge a long time ago.”

Sourly, he slaps the pictures to his coffee table, biting his lip as he catches sight of his younger self, pressed cheek to cheek, with Yunho's younger self. There went that knife again, stabbing at his insides, and twisting painfully for good measure. He reaches out, sliding a different image across the top of it to block out the blissful expressions, and the painfully obvious hints that it had been taken while they’d been snuggled up close in bed together.

God. Those were the worst photos to look at when he was feeling like this. Just more painful reminders of something he’d never experience again.

“Well, there goes the spring cleaning idea.” He thinks bitterly, dragging himself up off the couch to slouch his way to his bedroom.

Bed sounded like a good option to his weary brain right now. A chance to shut down, and hopefully forget about memories of the past. He’d clear the photos away tomorrow. Right now, he needs to mentally box up his memories again...

-X-

He’s running.

From what, he’s not sure. But there’s a strong grip on his wrist, jerking him forward with every step, ensuring that he keeps moving.  He looks up, eyes staring at the back of a broad figure ahead of him, and chills rush up his spine at the familiarity of it.

“C’mon Jaejoong!” The person tugging him along calls back irritably. “Move faster!”

He stumbles slightly, cursing the fast falling rain that’s obscuring his vision of the road ahead. He must be dreaming, he realises, face creasing in concern as he hears a gargled mash of inhuman noises come from behind them.

“Lucid dreaming?” He thinks to himself, marvelling at the very thought of it as he’s tugged around a sharp corner abruptly.

He remembers Junsu reading about it once. Back when he’d gone through a phase of reading up on all sorts of psychological thoughts and theories. A dream in which the dreamer is aware they’re dreaming.

“That’s kind of cool...” He thinks, a grin curling across his lips.

Another round of inhumane groaning and shrieking comes from behind him again, and when Jaejoong turns his head he sees the scary sight of a black figure jerking sporadically from side to side as it moves forward. Fear briefly flashes through him, eyes widening as the figure made a god-awful mix of a gurgled roar and high-pitched wail.

“What the hell is that?!” He yells, whipping his head back round, fixing himself with a fierce command to keep his head firmly set forward.

A familiar laugh bubbles ahead of him, and his eyes train in on the face of the person leading him. Tall, dark, and handsome, and every bit as desirable as he remembers. His heart leaps into his throat, body buzzing with shock.

It would seem he still remembers him perfectly, right down to that little mole by his lips...

“Hey, don’t space out on me now!” Yunho calls back to him, smile wide.

He can’t reply, voice stuck in his throat, clogged with emotion. Instead he strives to keep up, focusing on the feeling of placing one foot before the other.

However, that soon comes to an abrupt halt, as Jaejoong spies a hoard of the same creepy looking creatures as the one tailing them up ahead. They’ve congregated together in a group, effectively blocking off their escape, and Yunho utters out a quick curse at their appearance.

“Great.” He mutters, drawing to a sudden halt, and placing an arm out to stop Jaejoong from moving further forward. “Guess we’re fighting our way out of this one. Changmin better get here soon with that backup.”

Jaejoong perks his head up at the mention of TVXQ's youngest, and he can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, as to just what the hell is going on.

“Ok.” Yunho then says, moving behind Jaejoong suddenly so that they’re back to back. “Cover me yeah?” He asks.

“What?” Jaejoong can only reply, still beyond confused, and now terrified as he catches sight of their stalker from before heading straight for them. “Wait a secon-”

He doesn’t get chance to finish, before Yunho pulls two hand guns from a holster at his waist, bringing them both up to fire off several bullets. The noise feels deafening to his ears, and he ducks by instinct, crouching down low and narrowly missing a surprise attack from one of the creatures.

“What are you doing Jae?!” Yunho cries at him, a genuine look of disapproval etching his features; and he would know - his dance moves had often been on the receiving end of it many times before. “We need to take these things down! Use your damn gun!” He shouts, moving away from him to get a better shot.

Feeling paralysed by fear, and a slither of wonder, he watches the other take down two more creatures, and then the one that had lunged at Jaejoong. He seems to aim for their heads, with almost expert precision – a skill Jaejoong didn’t believe him to have back in reality. It’s scary, a feeling that amplifies when Jaejoong moves a hand to find a gun strapped at his own waist.

This isn’t real though, right? It feels it though. The sounds of, whatever these things are, wailing, and screeching. The scent of blood, guts, and rotting flesh. The feeling of the sharp rocks digging into his palms pressing down tight to the ground as he sinks down. But, it’s not. This was all just the creation of overactive thoughts his mind had conjured together into a fabricated dream.

Slowly, he pulls the gun Yunho had been screaming about before from a holster strapped to his waist, and aims it dead ahead at a deformed, human looking, creature ambling towards him. He knows he’s finished if he doesn’t do something, sat down on the floor like a sitting duck, it’s the worst place to be. He needs to fire. Only, when he pulls the trigger, nothing happens, and his eyes widen as the creature locks onto him, snarling like a wild animal.

It runs wildly towards him, arms flailing about its body, mouth wide open displaying it’s sharp, blood stained, teeth. He’s going to die, he can only think, and with that in mind he raises his arms in a useless attempt to shield himself. Only the loud crack of a gun shot goes off before death takes him. It’s sounds close, too close, and when he opens his eyes he’s greeted to the site of Yunho’s jean clad backside.

He’s too scared to even think about how glorious it looks. Instead, he can only drop his arms back down to his side’s once more, and gape. Yunho’s dispatched his would-be killer it seems, and he’s not all too happy about it. Apparently, it had been the last one – a quick glance about the area, and the site of so many motionless zombie corpses, tells him that.

Wow, had Yunho really gone that hard-core and taken all of them out himself? Even in his dreams Yunho was amazing it seemed.

However, his moment of awe is short lived, as Yunho turns back to him abruptly, eyes narrowed, and angry.

“What the hell was that?!” Yunho demands, reaching forward to snatch his gun from him, twirling it over in his hands. “You didn’t even take the safety off? What the hell are you playing at?!” He yells, staring at him in horrified disbelief.

Jaejoong can only stare at him, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of some kind of comeback that wouldn’t make things any worse. Decorum wasn’t exactly his strongest skill. He had a terrible history of making smart mouthed responses that usually ended with Yunho flying off the handle into an angry rage.

But back then, Yunho hadn’t been in the possession of a gun, and dream or not, Jaejoong didn’t fancy pushing it.

“I, urm…” He starts to say, pawing his mind for something to lesson the tight look of irritation clinging to Yunho’s face.

The words that he wants don’t come, and instead he catches a flicker of movement from behind Yunho’s leg. A slow, slightly shaky, swing of a limb occurs from one of the broken looking humanoids behind them, and Jaejoong watches in horror as it abruptly jerks upright, rolling over onto it’s stomach. His mouth opens once more to shout out a warning, but before he can even form a single word, the creature shoots forward and launches itself into the air with a wail.

Despite Yunho having been such a sharp shooter before, it’s clear to see that his body doesn’t lend itself to speed – and it probably doesn’t help that Jaejoong had been distracting him with his useless, rather lacking, gunslinging skills. Before Yunho can even think about turning, the beast leaps onto his back, head snapped back as it howls out a garbled noise from the back of it’s throat, and then dives down to bite into the tanned column of Yunho’s neck.

There’s blood – so much blood. It streams down from the bite, bleeding into the fabric of Yunho’s clothes like a burst river, and the noise, the noise Yunho makes… It’s gut wrenching, and he can only shake in his skin, body paralysed, while he sits watching up in muted terror. 

The creature tears away from Yunho, bouncing forward to couch down in front of Jaejoong. But Jaejoong’s eyes are still fixed on Yunho, and he way he goes crashing down backwards to the ground with a heavy thud. He lets a shaky breath tumble from his lips, watching as Yunho makes a gurgled groan of pain, rolling onto his side slowly in a feat that must take all of his remaining strength to manage.

He’s not dead at least, Jaejoong summarises, feeling beyond thankful as tears start to prick in his eyes at the thought of Yunho dying. However, he’s unable to pause for thought long, his eyes whipping back to the creature looming above him, intent crystal clear as it snarls at him with savage ire.

It steps forward, continue to snarl as it does, it’s foul breath fanning over his face as the vile stench spews from its open mouth. He tries to backup, sliding back across the pebbled ground, the small stones cutting into his palms as he goes. But the zombie merely steps forward once more, now screeching at him as it realises Jaejoong’s trying to escape.  He swings himself to the side at the noise, dropping his head low in a pitiful attempt to hide himself. He already knows that there’s no way he’s getting away, not in this position.

Plus, if this really is a dream, then maybe his death will finally end it, and he can wake up in his warm bed; safe and sound, and far away from the sickening sight of Yunho’s, still warm, but slowly dying body.

Only, for a second time, the sweet release of death doesn’t come.  Instead, there’s another sharp crack of a gunshot, and Jaejoong's head snaps up, eyes wide with shock, as he glances to Yunho’s motionless body. But he’s still lying there, still bleeding out across the ground like a gutted piece of meat.

“Jaejoong!” Someone shouts, the creature before him crashing down in front of him; hopefully this time for the last.

Jaejoong tries to breath, mind scrambling as he stares at nothing but red, red, red, and the many bodies sewn out across the ground around him. It’s like something from a movie, only this is far worse because it feels all too real. As real as the heavy sound of thundering footfalls rampaging across the earth towards him.

Hands are on him, pulling at him until he’s face to face with the familiar faces of Changmin, Yoochun, and Junsu flitting across his vision. The first two attack him with questions of if he’s ok, if he’s hurt, and then finally, what had happened to Yunho.

Yet, before he manages to reply, Junsu's voice cuts the 20/20 questions dead in their tracks with an abrupt statement that has Jaejoong reeling with confusion once more.

“Guys! I think he’s turning!” Junsu calls in a panic, his words seeming so far away from the rest, and when Jaejoong turns to find him, he sees him hovering about Yunho’s unmoving body.

“Turning?” He questions, mind ticking with the speed of an old grandfather clock. “What the hell does that mean?”

Apparently, it means nothing good. Because no sooner had Junsu announced it, Jaejoong finds himself promptly abandoned by the other two; their bodies practically flying to Yunho’s side in a flurry of panicked movement. He follows, albeit a little less keen, and catches the heavy scent of blood as he does; that awful, sharp, metallic tang that hangs about the air like a thick fog. He already knows that the sight that will greet him is going to be a morbid one from that alone. But when he reaches them, standing a little behind the crouched figures of the other three, he still finds that he can only stare on in muted horror for a few seconds before his stomach starts turning in warning.

Yunho’s convulsing slightly, letting out grunted moans of pain as he throws his head back to reveal a deep wound, bleeding profusely, at his neck. He feels sick at the sight, his heart dropping into an icy pit at the base of his stomach as he falls to his knees and tries to move closer.

“Yunho?” He whispers, tears welling up in his eyes, and voice trembling as his hand moves to reach for the other’s shakily.

“We’ve got to get him out of here.” Changmin says, taking charge of the situation suddenly, eyes set hard, and tone methodical.

“No way!” Yoochun snaps in return, head darting up to stare at him ludicrously. “We can’t move him – not in this condition.”

“Well we can’t just sit here! All this blood will soon start to attract more zombies.”

“But we need to stop the bleeding first! What if he’s already-”

“Shut up!” Changmin cries abruptly, and if Jaejoong had been able to tear his eyes away from Yunho for a moment, he’d have seen the frantic shaking of his hands. “Just shut up, ok. He’s going to be fine – right Jaejoong?”

Jaejoong doesn’t reply, he can’t. Instead, he stares on, eyes flicking down as he feels something cold touch his fingers. Dread, cold as ice, spikes through his system when he catches sight of Yunho pushing his gun towards him, the barrel pressing up against his fingertips.

“What-” He goes to ask, voice croaking on emotion as he stares into Yunho’s half lidded gaze.

“You… You need to kill me.” Yunho says, taking a gurgled breath, blood clotting in his throat as he tries to fill his lungs with air.

“Yunho no!” Changmin shouts angrily, Junsu and Yoochun both taking sharp gasps of air as the words register with them.

“You have to!” Yunho presses urgently, shoving the gun towards Jaejoong with what little strength he has left, strength that seems to be all too rapidly fading.

Jaejoong shakes his head in the face of it, eyes pinching as tears spill from them. He can’t, he can’t do that! No matter if this is a dream or not, he just can’t.

“Please, please Jae!” Yunho pushes, collapsing into a coughing fit, and bringing up a small splatter of blood. “Don’t… Don’t let me become one of them.” He begs weakly, eyes pleading.

“I-I can’t!” Jaejoong sobs, taking his hand instead, and dropping his head miserably. “Please, please don’t ask me to do that – anything but that.”

“If you don’t then…” Yunho says weakly, eyes starting to glaze over slightly as he speaks.

Yoochun sees it, and his face pulls into something sympathetic, his hand reaching out to gently rest on Jaejoong’s shoulder.

“I… I think you should do it Jae.” He urges Jaejoong carefully, sighing when Jaejoong whips his head round to stare at him, wide eyed, and horror stricken. “He’s got a point. If we don’t do something, then he’s going to turn on us - he’ll kill us.”

“You can’t be serious!” Jaejoong cries. “How can you say that?!”

“It’s not like I want him to die either!” Yoochun shouts back at him, his hands balling into fists as he continues to glare at Jaejoong. “What’s gotten into you, huh? We all knew there was a chance this might happen!”

Jaejoong is about to argue, that no, no he hadn’t known that there was a chance of this happening; and then maybe add that he was still under the impression that this whole thing was a masterpiece mess conjured by his backstabbing excuse of a subconsciousness. However, Yunho’s voice cuts in before he has a chance to, and Jaejoong swings his head back to stare at him once more.

“Ah, even after all this time… You’re still… Still too soft for this world.” He says, gently squeezing Jaejoong’s hand within his own. “I really love you.”

If his heart could really crack, Jaejoong feels like this would be the moment it happened. For the moment the last four words are out there, a pain strikes at his heart, and agony bleeds from it. The four of them can only watch Yunho’s eyes slowly close, and Jaejoong feels the hand wrapped within his own go limp, taking the last shreds of his composure with it.

“No.” He breathes softly, the waterworks within his eyes stopping momentarily as the world grinds to a halt, his brain slowly processing what was happening before him.

Then it happens, before he can even think to stop himself. The white noise within his mind clears, and a shrill shrieking din rips from his throat. He’s like a banshee, wailing, and screeching as he drops down to lie across Yunho’s still corpse, his fingers entangling themselves within his clothes.

“Yunho!” He hears himself cry, mouth open wide as he sobs openly like a child.

Hands on him, people coaxing him hurriedly, but everything seems to blur around him as he keeps screaming, his voice scratching against his throat until it feels like it’s burning. But he doesn’t stop, he can’t, the image of Yunho lying there dead seems etched into his mind like a scar.

His head fuzzes, images blurring together into a mangled mash of colours. The sensation is familiar, and his squints his eyes for moment, trying to focus his vision. But his eyes don’t cooperate, and before he can register what’s happened, he feels his body crumple under him. The sky seems to reach for him, a rush of blue charging towards him - or is it the floor? His mind can’t quite work it out. Was that why everything was blurring to black-

-X-

He wakes.

There’s a name on his lips, voice screaming it like a desperate cry for help. Which, maybe it is, because someone’s there with him, hovering over him like an Angel of Death.

Yoochun, it’s Yoochun? A very tired looking Yoochun, and yet a Yoochun that looks younger, and better, than Jaejoong’s seen him in years. But… That doesn’t make any sense. Because Yoochun wasn’t with him last night, and he certainly doesn’t have a key to his apartment, which begs the question as to how he’d gotten in.

That question has to wait though, because a second later, just as Yoochun’s mouth opens to say something, the door to the room flies open; angrily smacking against the wall and creating a loud bang that reverberates in the form of a booming echo. Following the violent movement comes three more people, each looking sleep ruffled, and sporting matching bedheads. Yet, despite their appearance, they seem a lot more awake than Jaejoong himself feels, especially when one of the intruders slaps the light switch, and the bright glare from the light on the ceiling blares down on him with an unnecessary intensely.

“What’s going on?!” One of them demands suddenly, and Jaejoong squints, forcing himself to rapidly readjust his eyesight to the newly lit room.

When he finally can see more than just a blurry outline of shapes and colours, he blinks, and looks up to see the sight of three eerily familiar people. His first, and rather expressive thought is “what the ?”, but since that’s not nearly eloquent enough for his liking, he settles for the word “what?” – spoken in the smallest voice he thinks he might have ever given.

Because he doesn’t think he’s ever been in a more mind-boggling situation than this.

Stood, huddled rather closely around him, are the figures of his both current, and past, band members. Only, they’re not quite the same as he remembers them. Yet, somehow, they are. In fact, they almost seemed to have de-aged back to the time when they’d still been together, or rather the last time they’d been together. It’s terribly confusing.

But that’s not really the main issue from where Jaejoong’s sat. He’s got bigger issues on the brain, and he decides to voice it.

“What are you all doing here?” He asks, trying to calm his breathing from the terrifying nightmare he’d just woken up from, while feeling his brow crumple into a deep frown at the current situation. “In my apartment no less. How the hell did you get in?”

In all honestly, his brains only running at half capacity right now, still garbled from trying to process the sight of a dying Yunho, and the emotional torment it had wrought. So, he doesn’t think to realise that it’s impossible for Yunho, and Changmin, to have even been present in the first place until it’s too late.

“What are you talking about Jae?” Yunho asks, blinking at him inquisitively. “We heard you screaming, so we came to check that you’re ok.” He explains, flicking his gaze to Yoochun momentarily.

“Yeah, you were yelling Yunho’s name – must have been one heck of a dream!” Yoochun adds good naturedly, knocking his arm against his shoulder; a blatant attempt to brighten the mood.

“Am I still dreaming?” Jaejoong then asks (more to himself than anyone else) and dips his head down to stare at the blanket bunched up within his hands.

The blanket… It’s one he’s seen before, one he’d used before, way back when they’d been staying in Japan. He remembers it well, because it had been one of the spares they’d had when they’d first moved in. The light blue one, covered in a pastel star design. The detail is almost scary. This suddenly doesn’t feel like a dream – it’s far too real.  

“Dreaming? What are you talking about?” Yoochun asks him, planting a hand on his head to ruffle his hair good naturedly. “You’re awake now!” He laughs.

“Must have been some dream though.” Junsu says gently, looking ever so adorably concerned. “What were you dreaming about?”

Jaejoong stares at them for a moment, and then looks about the room he’s in pensively. It’s so achingly familiar to him.  The similarities to the dorm they’d stayed in while they’d been promoting in Japan are unsettling, and while he can’t quite remember it enough to say that everything’s the same, he’s pretty sure he can cover enough for it to not be seen as coincidental.  That, combined with the current appearance of s, is enough to have him convinced.

“No, I’m still dreaming.” He says firmly, groaning under his breath in frustration. “I should be back home, in my own home.” He continues, lifting his head, and accidently making direct eye contact with Yunho. “You... You shouldn’t be here.”

His statements met with awkward silence, the kind that makes you instantly want to say something just to escape the crushing quiet. Junsu, and Yoochun, seem stunned into shocked silence, unable to do anything but stand there gawping. Yunho too, appears stunned, but after a moment his face crumples into a concerned frown, lips pursed in thought. Changmin however raises an eyebrow thinly, crossing his arms across his chest in a rather displeased fashion.

“Ok, he’s broken.” He says, sounding utterly unimpressed. “What an earth are you talking about? We “shouldn’t be here” – what kind of nonsense is that?”

Yunho moves forward, abruptly placing a hand to his forehead, still frowning. He seems to deliberate something for a brief moment, before pulling back.

“Maybe you’re still half awake.” He summarises. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? I’m sure you’ll be more with it in the morning.”  He adds with a kind smile.

Just the thought of going back to sleep makes his skin erupt with goose bumps. His body shivers violently at the outbreak, and he shakes his head. Staying in this dream is a far better alternative then falling back into something similar to the one he'd had before. Even now he can still picture the bloodied image of Yunho’s corpse.

“No thank you.” He thinks to himself.

Still, he nods at Yunho, knowing from experience that he wouldn’t let it go until Jaejoong at least met him halfway – especially when it came to his sleeping schedule. It was much easier to just give in, pretend to go along with it, and then just do as he pleased later.

So, he watches quietly as the younger members are usher off by Yunho back to bed. They send him concerned looks, quietly wishing him goodnight as Yunho closes the door behind them. He longs to call Yunho back, and maybe curl up against him. But that would mean having to actually fall asleep again, and Jaejoong doesn’t want to do that.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Yoochun offers softly, nudging his side with his hip.

He shakes his head mutely, keeping his gaze fixed dead ahead. The last thing he wants to do is talk about anything.

“Alright then.” Yoochun says, his tone sounding cheerier than before. “Well, I’m goanna try and get some sleep. Night Jae.”

“Night.” Jaejoong murmurs back, keeping his eyes set dead ahead at the door.

He waits until Yoochun’s breathing levels out to a steady lull, and then, as quietly as he can, he flips back the covers of his bed and carefully sets his feet down to the carpet.

The dorm is exactly how he remembers it. A flowing, open plan, living room, and cosy kitchen tucked away in the corner. The same sofas, plain in colour, and made from cheap, slightly itchy, material, that scratches against his skin when he brushes his fingers across the back wistfully as he passes. The familiar smattering of pictures, paintings, and occasional vinyl LP records hung in memory of some kind of sales achievement. Each brings a smile to his face, and each a different memory to mind. But the reminiscing doesn’t stop there as he spies something in particular set atop the counter, looking rather out of place almost.

That damn soy sauce gag bottle.

It almost brings tears to his eyes, and he glances away from it rather quickly, gathering both himself, and the fond memories associated to it, before locking it all back up tight once more. That’s not a road he wants to travel back down again now.

Although, he thinks to himself, reaching out to pick the bottle up, and roll it between his fingers thoughtfully, he does wonder where an earth the bottle had gone to. Was it yet another thing lost within the quick, and rather sudden, move Yoochun, Junsu, and himself had been forced to make from the TVXQ dorms? Perhaps Yunho, or Changmin still had it-

He plants it back down on the kitchen counter again - with maybe just a little bit too much force, and winces at the afterthought.

“Dangerous thoughts.” He reminds himself, moving away from the kitchen, and choosing to turn his eyes towards the rest of the room, before he started to get soppy over old ladles, and cooking pots he’d once used.

Thankfully his gaze lands on the distracting sight of the old dining table nestled up against the far wall, complemented by six matching chairs. He has to resist the urge to clear away the clutter of dishes, glasses, and take out containers littered atop of it. A sight which was truly irking his inner neat freak with every second his eyes remained settled upon it, nagging at him incessantly to tidy it away. There’s no way he’s letting himself clean it up, not when this is all but a nostalgic dream.

It’s then he wonders just when he might wake up.

He doesn’t want to try and fall asleep here – just in case he fell deeper into his own dreamscape and had another encounter with zombies or Yunho’s undead corpse. But even so, it was becoming far too quickly apparent that he was starting to vex himself with all these throwbacks to the past. So, instead of further dwelling on them, he moves towards the wall lined with tall windows overlooking the city.

It's then, as he stares down at the glittering scenery below, that he catches view of his reflection staring back at him, and the sight is enough to cause his breath to catch in his throat unexpectedly.

People often made comment of his looks, occasionally joking that he didn’t seem to age, and making reference to him being akin to some kind of trapped in time, forever youthful in appearance, vampiric being. But this, this was ridiculous. The face that stares back at him was one he hadn’t seen in a mirror in over ten years. The same messy mop of brown hair, and eyes that had yet to witness the ultimate heartache, soft features that were still so young, and without blemish.

It wasn’t like he was a wrinkled prune in the future per say. But even he could tell that the version of himself stood before him was lacking the same small age details that he’d garnered in the present.

It’s akin to looking at a photograph of the past. Only this photograph is living, breathing, moving before his very eyes.

Abruptly feeling drained by the whole situation, and the many emotions being brought forth by it, he feels himself drop down to the floor, leaning his weary body up against the glass sideways. It feels cools against his temple, and the view of twinkling lights, and blur of cars racing across the strips of roads painting the city is soothing.

Not soothing enough to send him to sleep thankfully, but enough to make him temporarily forget about the fact that his ex, and past and current members are just across the hall sleeping.

Morning slowly crawls its way across the horizon, and Yunho finds Jaejoong curled up against one of the many glass windows. Jaejoong tries to ignore his presence, but Yunho calls out to him, and then promptly makes his way over when he doesn’t reply. He finds his vision filled with Yunho’s handsome face, eyes alight with concern, and looking so beautifully sleep ruffled that Jaejoong thinks his heart might literally bleed with a fond feeling. He’s dressed in a baggy pair of sweat pants, and loose t-shirt; which leads him to automatically assume he’s probably on his way out for a morning run. It was standard Yunho behaviour for this point in time and given that their Japanese fans had tended to give them more space than fans in their home country, Yunho had taken to having an hour’s morning run when time allowed.

If his assumption was right, that meant that by now Jaejoong should have been up preparing breakfast no doubt, which therefore meant that Yunho was likely concerned as to why he wasn’t currently doing that, which was probably why he currently asking the question of if he was ok.

He nods, continuing to stare out of the window, and hopes it’s enough. Which of course, it isn’t, and Yunho drops down onto one knee in front of him, while making a quiet comment about how he obviously wasn’t.

He tilts his head to try and catch Jaejoong’s eyes. But Jaejoong keeps his gaze fixed on the black tarmac far below them, his chin cutely cupped within his palm. Yunho chuckles, no doubt finding his stubborn streak cute, and Jaejoong feels his eyebrows dip into a frown instinctively.

“Come here.” Yunho tells him, his tone coloured with a soft, slightly fond, tone that Jaejoong finds himself unable to resist.

He turns his head sluggishly to the side, suddenly surprised at how tired he feels, and fixes Yunho with what he hopes is his best resting face. Because he right now he really doesn’t want to face him. The very idea of interacting with Yunho in any form was enough to have his stomach fluttering with nerves. He just knows this nightmare is going to haunt him for days.

However, he doesn’t have long to ponder that particular thought, as suddenly he feels hands on him, gently tugging away his hand from his face. He goes to say something, maybe ask what an earth he’s doing, or tell him to hurry up and go for his run already. But then he’s being kissed.

Those warm, slightly chapped lips, are pressing against his, leaving the minty taste of toothpaste lingering on his lips. A rush of adrenaline bursts through him at the action, his face blooming with warmth. The heat is followed by realisation though, and all too soon the familiar sweet moment comes crashing to a halt.

His hands move before he can register what he’s doing, and he shoves at Yunho hard enough to have him stumbling backwards, and then topple over into a heap on the floor. Shocked, he can only sit there and blink at him as Yunho grumbles and pulls himself back upright.

“What the hell was that about?!” Yunho demands, rightly upset. “That was not the reaction I was hoping to get.”

“Sorry!” Jaejoong squeaks back at him, hurriedly dropping his gaze to the hardwood flooring.

“What?” Yunho says, sounding thoroughly confused. “You’re always complaining that I don’t show you enough physical affection, and the moment I do, this is the reaction I get?” He argues, standing back up again. “Seriously, what’s wrong? I’m worried about you. You haven’t been sleeping recently, and you’re always going off with Yoochun on long drives to God knows where, and then last night... You really scared me. And now, now I find you out here, probably not having slept all night. What’s going on with you?”

Silence follows Yunho’s sudden outburst, and in all honesty Jaejoong doesn’t know what to say in response. The situation feels abruptly too real to him. It felt eerily familiar to the many, many, arguments they’d had before when they were younger – and oh boy, had they had a lot. Some that hadn’t ended so pretty, and some that had led to rather... Steamy sessions making up in the bedroom.

Only, he’s really not in the mood to deal with any of that right now, and so he simply purses his lips and sighs.

“I’m tired Yunho.” He tells him, trying his best to not sound too patronising, he likes to think he’s somewhat learnt from past mistakes. “You already clearly know I haven’t been sleeping lately.” He then adds, trying to ever so slightly press against Yunho’s infamous guilt button, and trigger his guilty conscience.

Doing that would guarantee him being on the end of some pretty heavy, remorseful, looks, but it would also ensure that Yunho dropped his triad, and would probably garner him some quiet space while Yunho went for his run.

It has the desired effect, and Yunho backs off immediately, face creasing into a tight frown of worry. He’s kneeling down again, a hand reaching out to smooth away his fridge gently; an action which makes his heart ache with longing.

“I’m sorry.” Yunho tells him quietly. “Is it that bad again?”

Jaejoong keeps his voice locked up, relying on a stiff nod, fearing that his voice might crack if he dared to speak. It does the trick, and Yunho lets out a concerned sigh, a pensive look crossing his face.

“Well, you could sleep in the car, and maybe at the shoot too.” He suggests, before dropping his voice a little lower. “Then when we get back, maybe I can steal you away and have you to myself...”

The tone isn’t quite suggestive, but Jaejoong still shoots him an unimpressed look instinctively. Yunho catches on pretty quick, and Jaejoong watches him fondly as his brain seems to backtrack through what he’d just said, a shocked expression passing across his face.

“Wait, no! I didn’t mean it like that!” He says quickly. “I just meant to sleep! Well, and maybe cuddle... But clothed! Clothed cuddling!”

He can’t help it. A smile breaks passed his defences, cheeks aching from trying to contain it throughout Yunho’s panicked explanation. He ducks his head, trying to hide it, feeling a little shy under Yunho’s stupefied look of wonder.

Its been a while since he’s been subject to such attention.

“Tired or not, you still shine like the sun.” Yunho murmurs, leaning in close to stare at him with a rather open, loving, look that steals his breath.

“Sap.” He tries to say, words coming out a little breathlessly.

“Maybe.” Yunho agrees, pulling back from him after a moment. “But this sap still loves you regardless.” He adds, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. “And this sap also needs to be going if he wants a decent run...”

“Off with you then.” Jaejoong laughs, watching him fondly as he hurries to find his trainers.

“Will you be making breakfast still?” Yunho asks, sounding hopeful as he pauses at the doorway, his best puppy dog eyes on display.

“Ah, that’s the reason you were being so sweet.” Jaejoong comments, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

“I promise it wasn’t!” Yunho tells him, sounding panicked again.

Jaejoong believes him, knowing Yunho wouldn’t act so conniving. It just wasn’t within his nature. So Jaejoong shoots him a playful look, waving him off dismissively.

“Sure, sure!” He calls to him, trying to keep his aloof air, as Yunho pulls a face at him, sticking his tongue out childishly; and just when had a grin a mile wide slipped across his face?

It’s then, just as he hears the tell-tale click signalling the front door closing, that he realises that he’d ben enjoying himself. A scary, fast advancing, awareness creeps up on him that it had been all too easy to slip back into his past relationship with Yunho. It was as if the split had never occurred (which he guesses, if his memory of this time period served correctly, it hadn’t).

Not that it mattered, he thinks rather dimly. All of this would be a distant memory once more after he woke up in his bed alone. But didn’t that mean that he should indulge while he could?

The idea is pretty appealing, even to his deeper consciousness – which always seems to revel in reminding him of how much his thoughts of time gone past would hurt later in the dying moments of time before he fell asleep.

It wouldn’t hurt to just enjoy the fruits of what this dream could offer a little while longer. A fleeting past indulgence to pass the skewed sense of time within this dreamscape.

He’s managed to whip up something simple by the time Junsu comes stumbling in from his shared room. He’s the picture of half awake, closed fist rubbing incessantly at his left eye; a rather garbled, half-formed, “good morning” tumbling from his lips. Jaejoong greets him cheerfully in return, having finally found the silver lining to this rather abrupt blast from the past. Although, his morning efforts seem to be a tad wasted on Junsu, and the younger makes a pouty face in his direction.

“How can you be so cheerful this early?” Junsu asks him with a whine; he’s not grumpy, just prone to sulking first thing in the morning.

“Because today is a wonderful day, full of possibilities!” Jaejoong tells him, placing a small stack of plates, and cutlery in front of him. “Will you go and set these out for me?”

Junsu makes a face at the pile in front of him and twists his lips into an unpleasant look of affront.

“But-”

“I need to go and wake the other two up.” Jaejoong explains, before Junsu gets the chance to complain about his request.

It does the trick, and while he can hear Junsu grumbling under his breath, he still toddles off towards the small dining table, with the plates in hand all the same.

That sorted, Jaejoong hurries off to wake the last two remaining members.

By the time Yunho’s back from his run, Jaejoong’s managed to single handily feed the children, and has had two of them shower and dress themselves. It’s quite a feat, if he does say so himself, one that he revels in as Yunho graces him with an appreciative look. He’d always been a er for a good dose of praise, something that still rings true in his current time.

There’s just Yoochun left now. Yoochun who had been chewing the same mouthful for well over a minute, with a sleepy sort of pace that has Jaejoong bouncing a leg under the table impatiently. He has plans after all. Plans that need to be put into action fast if he wants to make something of them.

“Yoochun.” He says, trying to keep a tight lock on his tone, and not come across too impatient – the last thing he needs is Yoochun catching on. “Are you nearly done?” He asks sweetly, realising a beat late that he’s probably given himself away.

Yoochun lifts his head slowly, swallowing his food, and glances back down to his plate with a pensive look before returning his gaze to Jaejoong once more.

“I guess?” He says, and then lifts an eyebrow, a smirk that’s far too knowing for his sleepy demeanour etching its way across his face. “Why, what’s the rush?”

Thinking back, he knows he should have gone for the obvious response of “well our managers going to be calling for us soon, so get a move on” – only those words don’t come, and instead his mouth goes dry, unable to form words.

“Oh, are you maybe trying to hint that I should hurry up and go take a shower? Could it be you’re hoping to speed the process along so as you, and a certain other member who shan’t be named, can take one together-” Yoochun then tries to suggest, waggling his eyebrows.

“W-what?! No! I was just thinking you should maybe hur-”

“Actually, I think I might be a while longer.” Yoochun comments, cutting off Jaejoong’s flustered rant abruptly. “But maybe you, and Yunho, should hurry off and take one together – you know, just to save on time and water.” He adds, sending him an outrageous wink along with it.

Jaejoong leaves, looking rather red faced as he does. He can hear Yoochun laughing himself stupid behind him and he clenches his teeth bitterly as he storms off to find his elusive boyfriend. He’s not particularly subtle when he finds him in his room, tugging off his sweaty shirt, and looking exceptionally glorious in the flecks of sunlight peeking through the curtains. In fact, he pretty much hurls him out of his room by a well-placed hand at his bicep, and frog marches him to the bathroom; all the while ignoring the surprised squawks of indignation Yunho makes. He knows well enough that he won’t be complaining for very long.

He tries to ignore the cackling still coming from the kitchen, instead busing himself with stripping Yunho down as quickly as humanly possible.

Its safe to say the rest of them are well aware of what had occurred earlier in the shower between Yunho, and him. Yoochun had never been one for subtly, and Jaejoong had never been particularly great with secrecy. So together they made for a rather spectacular mess - and God forbid Heechul ever joined in.

That being said, Jaejoong’s still pretty pleased with himself, and Yunho’s looking ever so wonderfully de-stressed. So, he’s pretty sure he’s allowed to look a little smug; even if Junsu’s still looking a slightly red faced (due to cottoning on a little late to the hidden meaning behind the wolf whistles from Yoochun, and snide sniggering from Changmin). Yunho looks content though (which is the main thing), and even by itself makes the teasing worth it.

Just as he remembers, their schedule is hectic, which means he has to get his kicks in with Yunho where he can. They’re on a tight time limit with an early morning photoshoot for a popular Japanese magazine, followed by 2 separate interviews for the same spread, and quick drop in with a late morning radio show. Then there’s the afternoon schedule, which isn’t looking anymore lenient, with yet another radio appearance, swiftly followed by concert rehearsals; which were bound to gone on into the late hours of the evening/night, and possibly even morning. It’s a very familiar routine, one that leaves Jaejoong feeling an odd sense of déjà vu as he sits before a mirror, with one of their stylists pottering about him with an arsenal of brushes, sprays, and powders.

“We’re going for a modern, rather chic look for the first few sets.” One of the staff members says, moving rather frantically about the set with a folder full of concept pictures. “Then we’ll move onto a softer look, lots of baggy, loose fitting clothing – browns, beige, natural colours!”

Jaejoong tunes it out, eyes following Yunho about instead with heady look. He’s a rather distracting sight, and Jaejoong has to admit, their stylists had done a fantastic job with pairing together his clothes. He looks rather dashing in his ensemble...

“Am I done?” Jaejoong hears himself ask, tone sounding more of a whine to his own ears – not exactly how he’d meant for it to sound, but at least it hadn’t come across impatient.

He garners an amused chuckle for his effort, and the stylist behind dismisses him after a quick once over of his hair and makeup, along with an instruction to go and see one of the other stylists about his clothes for the shoot.

Of course, he doesn’t do as he’s told; which is standard Jaejoong behaviour. Instead, he runs off to find Yunho, and quite happily attaches himself to his back, folding his arms around his front, and propping his chin atop his shoulder. It was something Yunho had used to do to him often; whether there were cameras around or not. He can see why, having now tried it himself. Yunho’s warm, and pretty snuggly to lean up against. It brings a heavy wave of sleepiness crashing over him, and he suddenly feels his eyes droop a pinch. Which is weird. Was it even possible to feel sleepy in a dream?

Regardless, he kind of wants to just tug Yunho over to a quiet corner, and maybe snag a couple of those comfy looking pillows from the set the staff are preparing currently, and create a pillow nest for the two of them to kip in.

“What’s got you in such a clingy mood, him?” Yunho asks him, tilting his head back to throw him a glance. “Honestly, your moods really do make a 360 sometimes!”

He smirked at that, feeling playful, and eager to engage Yunho in their familiar flirting – God how he missed it!

“Hm, you weren’t complaining this morning though.” He teases, unable to stop the coy smile that forces its way to his lips.

“How could I when you were making it your life’s mission to strip me down as fast as humanly possible?” Yunho asks.

Jaejoong smirks at that, feeling pleased with himself, and goes in for another teasing remark, only to be cut off before the words leave his lips by a member of their staff calling for Yunho to come over for the first shots.

“Well, I’d better get to it then.” Yunho says, disentangling himself from a rather reluctant to let go Jaejoong. “You’d better go and get ready yourself.” He adds, nodding to his clothes pointedly.

“Hm, yeah I’d bet you’d like to see me out of them.” Jaejoong says with a sultry smile, biting his lip to stop a devious bout of laughter from escaping.

Yunho only rolls his eyes, reaching forward to pinch his cheek playfully.

“Try and stay out of trouble.” He says, chuckling when Jaejoong swipes his hands away with a complaint about messing up his makeup.

With that he takes his leave, which Jaejoong takes as his cue to finally do as he’s told and gather his clothes for the photoshoot. He’s already expecting something with a similar colour code to Yunho’s clothes, and he’s not disappointed as he takes the small bundle from a waiting Stylist.

He finds Yoochun in the make-shift changing room, slowly peeling back his clothes and replacing them with the hand selected ones, and smiles.

“Already done?” He asks, whistling in approval as Yoochun gives him a quick turn, before posing ridiculously.

“Yeah, I think I actually like it for a change.” Yoochun laughs, glancing down to inspect the outfit himself. “Not too outlandish, but stylish enough to stand out just a little.”

Jaejoong nods in agreement, shrugging off his clothes, and dropping them into a small pile. He expects Yoochun to leave once he’s dressed – because you never knew who they were going to call for next. But unexpectedly Yoochun hovers, looking the picture of pensive. It makes him feel a little on edge, what with the way he’s worrying his lip, seemingly debating on whether or not he should say what he’s thinking.

“You okay?” Jaejoong finally offers, verbally nudging Yoochun to say whatever it is that’s plaguing him.

“Oh, yeah!” Yoochun confirms, a little too fast for Jaejoong to believe him, and instantly he steels himself for more – his apprehension isn’t for nought. “Its just... Well I was thinking about what we talked about the other day.”

Jaejoong pauses, fingers stilling over the buttons on his shirt as that eerie, familiar, feeling descends down over him again like a cloud of fog.

Why did this conversation feel so familiar to him?  Like he’d been through this once before, a distance memory once lived.

“What we… Talked about?” He asks, going back to his shirt again dismissively, an obvious attempt to keep it cool.

There was no point trying to recall anything. This dream was based on a time from way back in his past, too far back to remember any fleeting, somewhat trivial, conversations that his mind might have saved.

Yoochun doesn’t seem to appreciate his lack of recollection though, and he watches him pull a rather grim look in return, rolling his eyes in irritation; a sharp click from his tongue following the action. He then glances about them quickly, and once the areas surveyed, leans close into Jaejoong’s personal space, voice dropping to a soft, hushed, whisper.

“About our future, remember?” Yoochun says, eyes darting about them again nervously. “We were thinking about maybe talking to the others about leaving?” He then elaborates, and Jaejoong feels abruptly thrown for six.

This… This wasn’t some trivial conversation. This had happened before.

He swallows nervously, mind short circuiting as he slides through a reel of spiralling memories – none which had ended well.

This dream, it’s mirroring a memory, an event, which had triggered the beginning of the end. He knows it all too well suddenly. This very conversation, and the ones that Yoochun was referencing, they were the very catalyst that had led to the group’s eventual explosive five-piece demise.

He doesn’t want to go through that again. He can vividly remember how that little tête-à-tête Yoochun was currently suggesting had gone. The reason for that being that it was a such a disaster of a discussion (if you can even call it that), that it had ended with several broken pieces of china, numerous cross words spoken, more than a couple of bruised egos, and three days of near deafening silence between Yunho, and himself. He really, really, didn’t want to have to go through that again if he could avoid it; and it seemed like with the way this dream was heading, he was likely to encounter it.

“Abort! Abort!” His mind screams at the realisation, shoving forward the idea of pushing back against Yoochun’s proposal with frenzied haste.

“So,” Yoochun then says, pausing deliberately to give Jaejoong a long, and rather expectant, stare. “I was thinking about sitting down with everyone tonight?”

“Bad idea.” Jaejoong hears himself automatically respond, a rather impulse move on his part that leaves him feeling extremely awkward – especially when Yoochun blinks back at him rather owlishly, face blank with shock. “I mean, well, Yunho’s been under a lot of pressure recently with all this comeback talk, and the potential world tour; you know, the managers have been breathing down his neck and stuff.” He covers clumsily, eyes flitting down to his hands where his fingers are playing uselessly with the zip on his jacket.

“So, you’re saying we shouldn’t broach it then?” Yoochun asks, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.  

“Well, I mean, maybe not tonight.” Jaejoong says, and then thinks better of it. “Or maybe just not this week.” He adds belatedly – after all Yunho’s abruptly made up issues weren’t going to evaporate overnight. “I mean, I’m not saying to hold off forever! Just… Until next week.”

Or rather, until the point where he’d hopefully no longer be there to see the fallout.

“Right…” Yoochun says, and then sighs long-sufferingly. “Well, at least you agree that it needs to be said. Because I was talking to Junsu about it, and he seems to feel the same way too.”

“Of course, he does.” Jaejoong thinks to himself miserably, feeling utterly hopeless all of a sudden.

Junsu had perhaps felt the strongest about the whole thing at the time. What with the amount of time he’d invested in SM and all. It hadn’t really come as much of a surprise when Yoochun had told him the first time, and now it just made him feel sad as he thought about all the time Junsu must had spent feeling bitter.

“Oh, well that makes things easier.” Is all he says, glancing away to hide his distinct lack of shock. “Maybe we should take this slowly, drop little hints here and there to get Yunho used to the idea... I don’t think it would be wise to just open the flood gates so suddenly.”

Yoochun sighs again and fixes him with an obviously forced smile.

“Okay, you’re the boss.” He says, mock saluting him. “I’ll leave Yunho to you.” He then adds with a wink, turning quickly away from him and back towards the set.

Jaejoong moves to follow him, pushing his arms through the arms of his jacket as he goes. He makes a beeline for a certain tall leader, spotting him watching Junsu’s shoot from the side-lines. He folds his arms around his middle, placing his forehead to his back, and takes a deep intake if breath.

He feels, more than hears, the rumble of laughter as Yunho chuckles at his behaviour. It leaves him enjoying a pool of warmth that had pooled in his stomach from hearing the sound of it, and he basks in the memories that it conjures.

“Someone’s feeling clingy today.” Yunho comments good naturedly, leaning back rest his head against Jaejoong’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Jaejoong replies, his voice catching on a lump of emotion clinging to his throat.

He clutches onto Yunho a little tighter, desperate to just enjoy this moment for as long as possible before it’s inevitably ripped away from him again.

By the time they’re back at the dorm, exhausted, and ready to hit the sack after such a schedule packed day (honestly, Jaejoong has to marvel over the fact that they’d kept it up for so long). His need to retire for the day might also have something to do with the fact that he’s very much looking forward to Yunho’s promise from that morning. He’s not disappointed either.

Yunho makes a comment to the kids that they’ll have to sort themselves if they’re hungry, and then goes on to say that both Jaejoong and himself are retiring to bed earlier; while making it very clear that they’re not to be disturbed for the rest of the evening. Of course, an announcement like that couldn’t possibly be misconstrued...

Yunho definitely deserves the sniggering that occurs as they make their way to Yoochun and Jaejoong’s shared room, and Yoochun and Changmin definitely deserve the threat of dish duty that Yunho throws their way via a passing remark over his shoulder.

“Honestly, they get cheekier by the day!” Yunho tells him, stripping off his shirt, before clambering into bed beside him.

“Yeah…” Jaejoong agrees quietly, keeping his back stubbornly to Yunho, and curls into a more fetal position on his side.

Silence spans between them for a good minute, and Jaejoong assumes Yunho must have fallen asleep for a moment, but then he hears the tell-tale sound of shuffling come from behind him.

“Hey.” Yunho says softly, reaching over to card a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell me something isn’t wrong – I know you better than that.”

He’s not wrong. How long had they known each other now? Whether it was based on this point in time, or the one Jaejoong was living way in the future, the number would still have Yunho ranking in the top 10 of people who had known him longest (outside of family ties that is).

Jaejoong mulls it all over in his mind, feeling oddly self-conscious as Yunho leans over him to press a chaste kiss to his shoulder, with gentleness Jaejoong knows he hasn’t been granted with in so long that it makes him ache. He wants to tell him, yearns to even, knowing that even though he might not understand, Yunho would at least try to make it better. But, in reality, was there any point? Soon he would wake up, and life would move on once more.

Yet, like a wound re-opening again and again, he still wants to.

“If… If I were to do something unforgivable, would you still love me?” He asks, not daring to look over to Yunho.

“Huh? What’s with such a heavy question all of a sudden?” Yunho laughs, pressing anther kiss to his skin.

“Just… Would you?” Jaejoong presses, forcing his face further into his pillow.

“Hm, well, I’ll probably always love you. You’re not exactly someone who’s easy to fall out of love with after all.” Yunho tells him, voice slow as he mulls over the words carefully. “Really though - what’s all this about?”

“So, no matter what happens, you’ll stay with me?” Jaejoong asks quietly, surging on, and ignoring Yunho’s question.

He wants to hear those words desperately, he’d always wanted to hear them. But after the nightmare that the split had been, he’d wanted to hear them even more so. Especially in the dark nights he’d spent alone in his bed, tears blurring his vision as he’d tortured himself over memories, and thoughts full of regret. He won’t ever hear these words in reality. The time to hear them had gone, and he now realises just how much he misses being able to hear them. How much he’d taken them for granted, and how often he hadn’t stepped back to appreciate them. He wants to be selfish, just for a little while longer.

“Ah, really…” Yunho laughs again, snuggling up against his back. “Yes, we’ll stay together. No matter what happens, I’ll try and make sure we’re together.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

A sense of relief washed over him, though he’s not entirely sure why. He wonders if maybe subconsciously he’s happy to know that at least here, in this moment, Yunho really did want them to stay together. That in mind, he feels himself unwind, having not realised how tense he’d been before, and lets out a soft sigh.

“Then, will you tell me you love me?” Jaejoong asks quietly, shifting back, more into Yunho’s embrace.

Yunho laughs once more. It sounds slightly breathy, and tickles Jaejoong’s ear.

“You’re acting so weird today!” Yunho tells him, and Jaejoong feels his arms curl tighter around him, in concern perhaps?

“Maybe…” He agrees, closing his eyes. “But, tell me anyway.”

Yunho shifts beside him, snuggling closer into him, and rests his chin to his shoulder, dropping feather light kisses to his neck. The contact makes him shiver, both from the tenderness, and from the fact that it feels so real – a perfect replica of how he remembers it from the lingering memories that haunt him like spectres he can’t quite escape.  Those lips then move to the shell of his ear, a soft chuckle breathing against it.

“I love you, Kim Jaejoong.”

With that, Jaejoong feels his eyes well up, and he turns suddenly in Yunho’s hold, ducking his head against his chest. He doesn’t want to show Yunho that he’s crying. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead he keeps his ear to his chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of Yunho’s heart slowly lulling him back to sleep. His mind drifts, leaving him with lingering thoughts of just how much he’d taken his time with Yunho for granted. 

It was slowly becoming hard to tell whether this dream had been a blessing or a curse.

-X-

Soft light glows down on him, a gentle warmth enveloping his body. His limbs ache a little as he moves his body in a groggy fashion. Now there’s too much light beaming down on him, and his eyes protest against the intensity of it; which is weird, because he’s sure he’d closer the bedroom curtains before he’d gone to bed. But sure enough, as he lifts his head up to check, squinting against the bright early morning sun, he finds them spread wide open.

Still half asleep, and mildly blinded from his one-sided staring competition with the early morning sun, he stumbles from his bed awkwardly, with one hand scrubbing at his eyes, to what he hopes is the direction of the kitchen. On his way over, he nearly trips on what he assumes to be the coffee table, but eventually he finds himself standing the kitchen, hand halfway frozen reaching for a mug on the shelf.

Something’s… Wrong.

He doesn’t remember owning the mug his fingers are reaching for. It’s too colourful, and clashes with the monochrome scheme he’d stubbornly chosen when decorating the apartment.

Puzzled, but now feeling a little more awake than before, he takes a step back, eyebrows dipping in confusion. His eyes dart about the kitchen, mind slowly starting to clock other things that aren’t quite right. Like the position of the furniture, the pictures in the wall, and the clashes of colours decorating the walls. Not only that, but he notices that the mug he’d left out last night seems to be missing.

Now utterly bewildered, he starts back-tracking on himself towards the living room, suddenly feeling very much awake, and knowing that it had been the last place he’d been before departing to bed.

The polaroid’s. The polaroids are missing...

The table he’d left them on is bare of pictures, instead there’s two cups sitting evenly spaced apart on separate coasters -  one half empty, and the other drained completely. But he hadn’t had company last night. As far as he, and his memory, were concerned, he’d been very much alone.

He turns his head, looking for any further evidence that someone might still be in his apartment (or what he hopes is his apartment - the idea of that still being his current location was fast diminishing), which is when he notices something even more horrifying. It had escaped his attention while he’d been polaroid checking, but now he’s looking closer, he realises that most of the furniture is different. Not only that, but things aren’t quite where they should be. Gone was the sleek black and white theme he’d originally gone for, and in its place is a cosy clash of neutral beige, and warm browns; the occasional splash of dark red and tranquil blue. Pictures, ornaments, and mementos he’d amassed throughout his life were also jumbled about, and some were plain missing. Each little smattering of décor he’d placed together seemed suddenly altered, or changed, until his once familiar home seemed unrecognisable even to him.

It’s... Jarring; and makes Jaejoong take an abrupt step back in shock.

Was he, in the right apartment? Had he gone out last night, gotten himself beyond drunk, and gone home with someone? He didn’t remember that happening if he had.

But it still didn’t quite make sense... Because he can still see familiar things in amongst the chaos. Like a certain picture frame, one that contained an eerily familiar photo that he’d thought he’d stored away a long time ago. One of him, and Yunh. A candid shot taken by Yoochun unexpectedly while they’d been grinning over some age old private joke. He’d had it developed a while after it had been taken, two copies printed, a twin set, that had been separated when Jaejoong had tacked one to the inside of a birthday card and bundled it up within the confines of an envelope with Yunho’s name scrawled across the front. He’s unsure whether his picture still has a twin, but he knows for sure that there’s certainly no other siblings to the set. Which means he’s positive that this copy is either Yunho’s, or his.

Hesitantly, he takes a step back, and glances about the room nervously for a second time, and as he does, his ankle nudges against something solid behind him. It’s a domino effect, and before he can even turn to see what he’d hit, the sound of plastic colliding together shatters throughout the room. He winces at the noise, eyes dropping down to see the sight of multiple albums littered across the carpet haphazardly. Curiously, he leans down to inspect them, fingers shifting through the pile. He recognises them easily enough as his own collection. The same artists, and corresponding albums, which had clearly been neatly organised before his own clumsy actions had lead to their now slightly jumbled state. But even so, jumbled or not, he can tell that there’s some missing titles among the pile. Or rather, a couple of familiar faces are missing.

No matter how many times he checks, he can’t for the life of him find the two copies of 'Catch Me' that he knows he owns. An ebony-black copy of Changmin's version, and a wine-red copy of Yunho’s version, both kept together in pristine condition. A silent show of his support.

He does, however, come across a selection of albums he hasn’t seen before, and frowns in confusion when he catches sight of the group name stamped across each cover.

'JY4'.

His fingers slide across one of the cases, and he dumbly stares at the image of Yoochun, Junsu, Yunho, and himself posing on the cover, gazing soulfully back at him.

When had they- No. They’d never done an album without Changmin, and certainly not under a different name.

JY4... It’s eerily familiar to him, and his mind does a 360 turn to JYJ.

He’s suddenly driving back to the pile, digging back through years’ worth of albums once more, scrambling to find any evidence of the JYJ albums that he, again, knows should be there. Every other album in his path is sent scattering about the space around him, and by the time he’s sifted his way through the entire collection, he finds himself once again coming away empty handed, unable to find the album’s he’s now desperately looking for.

Unbelievably stumped, he sits back up, eyes returning to the ‘JY4’ albums beside him. He reaches for one of them slowly, mind tumbling with questions. When had this come out? Why wasn’t Changmin on the cover? Why was it entitled JY4?

His fingers hover over the cover, just about to brush against the front, but stopping short when he hears someone call out his name.

“Jae-? Oh, there you are!”

Like a deer in headlights, Jaejoong whips his head up, lips parting in shock as he openly stares.

It’s... Yunho? Only he’s shirtless, and wearing only a pair of boxers.

So... The idea is that when Jaejoong makes a change within the past, his timeline changes, and he goes back to the future, and replaces the Jaejoong in the alternative world based on those decisions. I think it will make more sense once the chapters start rolling in.

This fic is also cross posted on AO3 just in case anyone's interested - which you can find here.

Everything is already drafted out for this story though, so it's really just a matter of writing it now. I was going to wait until I'd written more chapters, but I wanted to see what people thought of the story line first before I invested time, and started writing it all out.