Wakefulness is tugging at the edges of his mind; determined to coax him back to consciousness. He would usually appreciate his survival instincts, the ones shrieking at him that it is time to get up, that he is in no place to be sleeping, because where is he?  

Those instincts could be all wrong though, surely? They never have failed him before, he can admit, but he feels so safe and so warm that clearly something is wrong. His instincts or... something else. 

A soft whine rises in the back of his throat, his thoughts are becoming... too much, they’re pulling him away from the blissful floaty space that has provided him with a nap.  

“No,” he huffs softly, as though verbally telling off his sleep for abandoning him will help.  

He wishes it would, because he wants nothing more than to stay buried in heaven. 

Cedar and soil and spice are right under his nose, like a cabin nestled in the forest, surrounded by fresh air with chai tea waiting. Jaejoong whines again, pressing and nuzzling his face deeper toward the scents. 

Surely, he isn’t expecting the soft rumble of laughter. It is a deep, pleasant sound, but a sound that very much comes from another person. 

Oh, oh that is why he is supposed to wake up. Who is he with, again? 

Surely, this is a major cause for alarm, Jaejoong doesn’t remember where he is, or with who. 

In a fright, Jaejoong forces his eyes open, jerking backwards sluggishly. He’s a dead dove, surely.  

He feels himself slipping, falling for just a second until hands catch him by the hips and draw him back in.  

“What?” he squeaks, not even fussed about how utterly undignified the noise is. 

“You dozed off in the café,” the words go murmured against the crown on his head, almost tenderly. 

Who- he almost thinks to ask, but he clicks his teeth shut and presses his face into the crook of the man’s neck instead, inhaling shyly this time, almost the same way the Jung siblings had done to him earlier. 

“Yunho,” the blonde slurs, though he isn’t sure how he has recognized the man this time. 

His voice? The way he smelled? Or was it because of his memory filtering in, belated as it was. 

It had been scary, a little bit, Yunho had seemed so angry when he arrived, and he had fully been waiting for the man to turn on him. To swing, probably, and he wouldn’t have been able to do anything but take it, he’d been caged in, but that hardly mattered either. 

Caged in or not, it wasn’t like he would fare well in a fight with the alpha, or that he would really engage in a fight anyway.  Jaejoong didn’t want to hurt anybody. 

And, well, Yunho hadn’t wanted to hurt him either for now, it seemed, the alpha siblings had seemed more likely to throw down together... but Jaejoong hadn’t wanted to be there for that, either.  

“Are you feeling better?”  

There is a warm hand trailing up and down his back, tracing along the line of his spine, Yunho’s other arm is curled around his waist and it is only then he realizes he is in the man’s lap. Again? Still? It takes an embarrassing amount of time for him to lift his eyes, to notice they’re no longer in the café at all, but the back seat of a car. 

That is a great reason to panic, to freak out and scramble away because he should not be here at all.  

However, Yunho’s lap is safe, it was where he had gone from being prepared to be attacked or feeling the need to scramble to the floor and plead to... well he had felt very nice. Calm, floaty. Safe. God, he hadn’t felt safe like this since he was small. 

Or, when he had been in Yunho’s apartment, but that had gone... very bad quickly so he didn’t want to count that.  

“I feel very warm, thank you,” he hums, nuzzling his face against Yunho’s throat once again without really thinking it over, “Very...” 

 Nice, he wants to say, but does he? Is this nice?  His head feels foggy, sluggish, but it isn’t necessarily a bad feeling, it just feels like he’s just waking up, but the alertness doesn’t exactly set in, he just rolls further and further into the haze. 

It isn’t normal, it certainly isn’t, but when he thinks back, he can’t really pinpoint where the oddity has come from. He didn’t actually eat or drink anything in the café, or even on campus, so nobody drugged him at least. 

“Strange,” the blonde therefore whispers softly, twisting his fingers together anxiously. 

Nothing hurts, he can breathe, nobody is threatening him, but he feels strange still. Strange is not a good thing, he knows that. 

He’s pulled away from Yunho’s shoulder with a soft protest, one that quiets down when the alpha’s hands cup either side of his face gently. He feels extremely exposed under Yunho’s intense gaze, and practically yelps because the man leans forward and presses his lips to his forehead. 

“What are you-!” 

“You’re a bit warm,” Yunho’s lips don’t return, replaced instead with one of the alpha’s hands that feel pleasantly cool to the touch which leaves Jaejoong sighing, “Are you...” 

Jaejoong waits, head inclined to favor one side as he waits for Yunho to finish talking. Was he what? Why did it matter if he was anything? 

Then, he remembers where he is again, and his eyes travel over the car, they were in the back seat, the tinted windows drawn up, doors closed. 

“Oh god!” he gasps, scrambling madly as he unseats himself from Yunho’s lap until he can press himself up against one of the car doors instead, “I’m- I’m sick I guess? I should- you work in like an... an office or something. With people, so I should- I'm just going to...” 

He’s going to get Jung  Yunho sick, and then some kind of multi-million dollar something is going to fall through and it is going to be all his fault, or so his mind provides. 

Jaejoong is in a mad scramble, his heartrate has rocketed sky high and his chest constricts painfully.  

“Not now, not now,” the blonde wheezes at himself, the fabric of his shirt with one hand and pulling it away from his chest like it will help, like he will stop gasping over and over again in an effort to draw air into his lungs though they refuse to inflate at all.  

His other hand is grabbing at the door, the whole thing is sleek and black and seamless, hiding away the buttons and hinge on the door that will lead to freedom. His inability to work a car door is only pushing him further into the arms of his raging panic attack, because really how hard is it to pull and then push? 

Pushing and banging on the door won’t do anything if there is no handle, if there is a lock on the door. 

“Jaejoong, Jaejoong stop,” just as he’s got his fingers curled around the door handle that hands are back, pulling, arms curling around him. 

It takes everything in him not to throw his head back and scream at the top of his lungs.  

It’s Yunho, and he knows it is Yunho’s chest that his back is pressed to, not stiff wooden walls, but his mind pulls him backwards, by a decade at least. 

‘Let me out!’ 

He isn’t supposed to raise his voice, he isn’t even supposed to speak unless an adult speaks to him first, but he doesn’t think any of the adults are even home right now. Father and mother had a luncheon. Solar is still away for school, and Hwayoung... 

Hwayoung had volunteered to watch him, they were supposed to have a picnic out in the garden, she said. They were not outside, and they were not having a picnic. 

20 minutes following their parents’ departure his sister had come strolling into his room, basket in hand with a brightly coloured blanket laying over the top of it. 

Jaejoong, at 9, knew better than to trust Hwayoung, he hadn’t trusted her since he was 6 when she told him he was adopted. When he had asked her parents, apparently their parents, if he was adopted father had been furious, shouting all sorts of horrible things about how he was ingrateful and insulting his poor mother and had they not done enough for him- how dare he? 

‘Are you ready, Jaejoong?’ 

He isn’t, but he glances at the basket instead and he can’t help but smile.  

Hwayoung seems to be in a good mood today, maybe they can start over. Hwayoung is 15, she’s got her own life and friends that are much more important than spending- wasting her time with a dorky 9 year old, he knows, but she is there anyway. 

‘Yes! Noona’s the best,’ he exclaims happily, and he almost misses the look on her face. 

She looks... shocked, which means he has done a good job in surprising her.  She doesn’t look surprised for long, quirks into... it’s almost a smile. 

Hwayoung is so pretty when she smiles. 

‘I set up a tea party too, can I surprise you?’ 

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