When Yunho woke up that morning, he didn’t feel even the smallest shock at the occupied space at his side. As much as he would never admit it, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he rolled over to see Jaejoong’s still bruised and battered face beside his own. Shock would certainly have been welcomed over the begrudging acceptance that had somehow become the only emotion he felt around the boy.

            Yes, acceptance. As much as he had denied it, he had now learned that it really was the most efficient way to handle the persistent ‘problem’ that had now wormed its way into his bedroom of all places. Defiance only created further issues. It was by no means ideal, but it was good enough.

            And ‘good enough’ was about as good as he was going to get with him.

            “Good morning,” Yunho whispered, a slight air of annoyance in his tone. Just because he had accepted the boy, it didn’t mean he had to let it be known. For as much as he didn’t know about the boy, he did know this: Jaejoong was persistent. Through the strongest of shields and thickest of walls, he did not give up. Not even for a moment. If he found out that Yunho had accepted him, if he found out that the walls he had built were already crumbled into nothing, then there truly would be no hope of him just leaving him alone.

            And that was a whole other danger he had absolutely no intention of pursuing. 

            Jaejoong blinked a few times, confused eyes darting around the room before landing shyly on Yunho’s own, remembering just where he was and, his tinged face giving it all away, just who he was with. “M-morning,” he stuttered, the slight blush still not quite hidden by the ugly purple bruises that marred his pale skin. It was the first time Yunho had seen his face in the daylight, and it made him sick to his stomach to even look at.

            “Your face is pretty ed up,” he stated simply. Jaejoong’s hands quickly found their way to his wounded cheeks, tracing the gashes that lined his face with hesitant fingers, as if he was scared to see just what he would find. He frowned slightly, wincing at the pain caused by the shifting of facial muscles and the splitting of skin by the seams of his cuts. “Wait here,” Yunho said with a sigh. He lifted his limbs off of the bed and trudged slowly to the kitchen, trying to soothe the aches and pains creaking at his joints. He really did feel much older than he was. He couldn’t even remember a time where he felt energetic and youthful, despite his young age.

            He swiveled his head once or twice upon entry to the kitchen, trying to discern the presence of a Yoochun he couldn’t remember seeing in quite a while. But the stillness of the house was undisturbed. A lifeless quiet, a somber atmosphere of an unfortunately empty apartment. He knew without searching that Yoochun wasn’t there. Living with him for as long as he had, he had developed a sharpness of senses that allowed him to determine such a thing without trouble. The house was quiet, far too still to be housing the boisterous Yoochun that couldn’t last five minutes without some clamorous accident.  

            It seemed he and Jaejoong were alone.

            It wasn’t the first time they had been alone in the apartment together, but this was different. The air felt strange. No longer drenched with an undeniable opposition, but laced with something else, something far more dangerous than the hatred that had been so thick a week prior. This time, it was nothing of the sort. It was a silence he could not understand, a tension he could not name.

            Something had changed, and, if Yunho’s intuition meant anything anymore, it had changed for the worse.

            “Here,” he mumbled, stepping back into his bedroom and offering Jaejoong an ice pack wrapped in a stark white kitchen towel he had found beneath the sink. Jaejoong’s eyes were confused, still quite unused to the kindness (if it could even be called that) exhibited by the usually cold man he had become used to. His eyes squinted slightly in pain as he pressed the ice pack to his cheek, face contorting just momentarily before he became used to the sting of cold.

            He felt the tension grow as the silence did the same. That tension he could neither explain nor understand felt heavy and thick in the air around him, like weights on his shoulders that pushed him down until he was once again sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing Jaejoong, who he knew was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mattress.

            Prior to this… change, he decided to call it, his lack of understanding of the shift so prevalent that he couldn’t understand it enough to give it a suitable name, silence had been of the utmost necessity. Indifference, disinterest, whatever casual display of emotion he could think of was utilized to the fullest to separate the boy from him as much as possible. But now, he didn’t want to be silent. He wanted to speak.

            He was confused, and for once, he didn’t want to just ignore it.

            He wanted answers.

            The questions bubbled up on his tongue, the words tugging at his lips as his fingertips shook from sheer longing. He wanted more than anything to let the words cascade from his in an endless stream, but at the same time, he felt himself holding back.

            He wanted answers, that much was certain. But he was scared of what they would be. 

            “Who… did that to you?” He asked quietly, bluntly, finding no other way to soften the blow of such a question. He could tiptoe around his true intentions, certainly, but it would a waste of time, and completely unsuccessful in finding him an answer. Jaejoong was blunt himself, so Yunho had every right adopt such a style.

            Jaejoong remained silent, shifting back and forth on the mattress, an action Yunho could only feel rather than see. The shared surface was dipping, bending and forming small craters as he moved.

            “Fine, you don’t have to answer,” Yunho reassured him. Though the newfound curiosity was stronger than ever, if Jaejoong didn’t want to speak on the matter, then he truly wouldn’t. Jaejoong’s stubbornness was powerful, and only seemed to grow right along with his silence. And in that moment Yunho decided that perhaps it was better if he didn’t know. The curiosity certainly was potent, but with curiosity came investment, and with investment bred the danger he was so intent upon avoiding. So he bit his tongue and settled the new feeling of inquisitiveness he still wasn’t quite used to.

            But there was still one hunger of a question he needed to satiate.

            “Jaejoong?” He asked after a few moments of silence, a silence the both of them had long since become accustomed to. Conversation between two of them was like a song. A gentle melody interwoven with bits of quiet, a few seconds of stillness to fully absorb the depths of such a unique piece, the likes of which Yunho could say with confidence had never heard before.

            “Yes?” Jaejoong whispered. His voice was soft, a quality Yunho had become used to from the boy, but this time, slightly hesitant. Jaejoong was not the type to hesitate when it came to anything. He simply barreled along, asking questions with a confidence that was perhaps driven more by his inherent stubbornness than anything else.

            Yunho bit his lip, cursing himself for the shyness that had no business hindering his words. He was, or should have been, in a position of power. He was older than the boy, not to mention his teacher.

            But for some reason that didn’t calm him down at all.

            For some reason, that thought only served to make the situation worse.

            “You asked me this, so it’s my turn to ask you,” he said finally, fiddling with his fingers in his lap as the shyness grew more powerfully than before. Maybe it wasn’t shyness, but fear. He wanted to know the answer, but he was afraid to find out. Jaejoong was full of surprises, each one more unsettling than the last, and this one certainly would be no exception. But that day, for whatever reason, Yunho’s curiosity simply couldn’t be put aside.

            He swallowed hard, bracing himself for an answer that he didn’t know if he wanted to hear.

            “What do you think of me?”

            For Yunho, the curiosity was an interesting thing. It ate at him, gnawing at his stomach until he could think of absolutely nothing else, but the moment he posed such a question to solve the very issue he was grappling with, he found himself wishing that he hadn’t. Perhaps part of him already knew the answer, and the question served nothing else than to be but a bitter confirmation of his suspicions.

            Despite his remorse at asking, there was no way he could take it back now. The words were already out there, hanging lifeless and limp, lost somewhere in the thick air between them.

            Yunho saw, or rather felt, the shifting of the bed once again, a slight ripple that just barely reached his position until Jaejoong had crawled over and successfully sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

            Every single feature of Jaejoong’s was delicate, and his legs were no exception. They were pale and slender, bending and curving until they reached his feet and the smooth lines arched beneath his heels and met at the tips of his toes.

            “I…I like the way you’re honest with me,” Jaejoong finally said, his red lips just slightly parted to allow the words to stream from his mouth, “every other adult I’ve ever met has lied to me. And… you’re kind. I can tell.”

            “I’m not.”

            “You are.”

            Jaejoong swung his legs back and forth over the age of the bed. His feet looked so small next to Yunho’s own. Not just his feet, but his shoulders, his waist, his thin and frail arms that seemed to be nothing more than bone and a slight covering of skin all looked so miniscule next to Yunho’s own significantly larger body. He couldn’t help but think how easily he could be handled, how he could manipulate his limbs with nothing but the palm of his hands, how he could probably lift him with a single arm –

            “I just… I don’t know why, but I feel comfortable around you,” Jaejoong whispered, his voice so soft Yunho swore his the palpitations of his chest couldn’t become any more forceful than they already had. “I just like being around you.”

            And then he felt it.

            The softest of pressures, the most delicate of touches, the slightest brush of something warm against his shoulder as he realized that the boy was actually leaning against him, his black hair, slightly disheveled from sleep, falling across his forehead as he pressed himself up against his side.

            What do you think of me?

            It was a perfectly valid question, but perhaps it wasn’t the one Yunho should have been asking. Thoughts could be controlled. Thoughts could be manipulated. They weren’t set in stone, and they weren’t an indicator of anything of real value.

            ‘What do you feel for me’ might have been wholly more appropriate, and Yunho knew that full well.

            But that was just the one question he was too afraid to ask.

            That was the one question he just did not want to know the answer to.

            “I’m going out,” he stated simply, standing up and removing himself from the touch of the boy beside him, his shoulder now plagued with a newfound chill at the loss of the boy’s head against him. He had no clue where he intended to go, but he just couldn’t be around him any longer.

            He wasn’t sure just what it was that he was feeling, just what it was that was making his heart race like it was, but whatever it was, being around him would only make it worse.

            He had to leave.

            “W-what do you mean? What about me?” Jaejoong asked, his gorgeous eyes hanging open in surprise. Yunho only looked away and clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn’t look at him. Not now. Not when his eyes looked so desperate, when his lips looked like there was so much he wanted to say, when his white shoulders were so exposed by the drooping cloth of Yunho’s own shirt that hung far too low off of him –

            “You can stay here if you want, okay? As long as you need to. I just… I just need to go out.”

            He grabbed his jacket off the hanger and stormed out of the room without so much as a second glance toward the boy who sat perched at the edge of his bed.

            Because he knew if he did, if he caught a glimpse of his eyes for just a moment, there really would be no turning back.

            “Unruly students, huh?” Jessica repeated, lifting the paper cup to her lips and sipping pensively. Though the coffee shop was busy, different voices and footsteps polluting the air around them, Yunho still felt at ease with her at his side. He had called her up rather randomly after he had just walked out of his house, but, luckily, she was free to meet him. And, although it very well could have been a product of Yunho’s wishful thinking and nothing more, she sounded a bit excited at his phone call.

            “Yeah… you’ve been teaching longer than me, I thought you might have some tips,” Yunho said with a shrug. Though she most likely hadn’t ever dealt with a problem such as Jaejoong, a boy like him an incredible rarity, some advice might do him some good. Or at the very least it could settle his nerves just slightly.

            “Hmmm…” Jessica placed a finger to her chin in thought, her beautifully bright eyes snapping up toward the ceiling as she mulled over Yunho’s question. “It depends on the student. For some, strictness and sternness works well, but for others…” Her eyes once again traveled toward Yunho’s, that slight smile that Yunho was so entranced with present on her lips. There was something in her eyes that Yunho absolutely loved. An unwavering confidence, an all-knowing assuredness he slightly envied. She seemed to know just what she was saying, the words so sure Yunho swore they could have been rehearsed. “For others, sternness only makes them want to rebel more. And with those… you kill them with kindness. Teach them that rebellion won’t move you in the slightest.”

            Yunho nodded and sipped at his own coffee, letting the bitter taste soothe his limbs. Though he had slept well – a fact that only unsettled him even more considering the cause – he still had felt agitated all morning.

            Kill him with kindness? Yunho couldn’t shake the feeling that that had already begun. While it certainly wasn’t something he wasn’t exactly doing by choice, he knew full well that his behavior was far from ‘cruel’. It was much too friendly, much too compassionate than he would have liked.

            But he couldn’t control it.

            With each look from those eyes, his resolve just wavered. With every word uttered from his perfect lips, he softened.

            With ever whisper of his name, he fell apart.

            “You know, we should hang out more often,” Yunho blurted out quickly, trying anything to interrupt the thoughts of Jaejoong that had no business cropping up as often as they did.

            Jessica only smiled, a small, slight blush playfully staining her cheeks.

            “We should,” she said with a slight chuckle, quickly taking another sip to cover her expression of embarrassment from Yunho’s all-knowing glance. But it was exactly what he wanted. Shyness, slight flirtation, complete normalcy.

            It was everything he wanted.

            ‘What do you think of me?’ Yunho had asked him, and Jaejoong’s answer rang loud and clear.

            But the answer to that one other question, that one that Yunho was too terrified to ask, still remained in the realm of the unknown.

            ‘What do you feel for me?’

            He hadn’t said it because he couldn’t. It was that simple.

            But Yunho knew that sooner or later, the answer to that question would be revealed whether he wanted it to or not.

            And when that happened, there really was no turning back. 

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A/N- Woah, what's it been, two weeks?

Sorry for the wait, everyone. Lacrosse is eating up my time. I'll do better!

Anyone like Hanchul? I wrote a Hanchul two-shot, and I would be really happy if you read it!

-Gelisi

P.S. Also, why are all of you so surprised at the ? I revealed their ages in chapter one... o.O