2012

The day of the party rolled around annoyingly quickly for Jaejoong. He had to spend a minimum of 3 hours with a bunch of people he was more accustomed to insulting rather than exchanging pleasantries with. Heaving a sigh for the umpteenth time he packed his brushes into their bag, a gentle prod distracting him from his task

“Is something wrong?” Jaejoong smiled ruefully and ruffled the young guy’s hair

“I’m fine changmin” he assured. Shim changmin was one of Jaejoong’s many art students, Jaejoong- under the chiding of Yoochun- took up a flexible teaching job at a local college and was disappointed in the masses of pretentious so-called ‘artists’ he had been burdened with but then he was introduced to changmin. He saw the clear potential in the boy and offered special advice and tutoring to him, he had really warmed up to the kid who was like the younger brother he’d never had.

But there was a clear difference, changmin was crazy and off the walls but he wasn’t a social recluse, he had friends and family unlike him, he got along with everyone even Jaejoong. The kid had a passion and fire that restored his faith in humanity (he wonders why Yoochun calls him overly dramatic) an aura of hope and optimism flowing from the tips of his paintbrush and solidifying on canvas.

He created beautiful art. Such beautiful art. Jaejoong loved it but a part of him despised it, the beauty he so craved in his life, the beauty he had never known, the kind of beauty that tormented him in his darkest nightmares. That was the kind of beauty shim changmin was capable of producing.

Bidding a farewell to the only legitimate friend he had other than Yoochun, Jaejoong dragged his heavy footsteps home unwillingly. Passing street vendors and excited kids running rampant Jaejoong had half a mind to just stand in the middle of the street and soak in the city, but he knew Yoochun would most likely take his sweets away if he did.

Half heartedly announcing his presence he planted himself face down in the lumpy couch, only to realise that the couch wasn’t so lumpy. Eyes still closed he buried his face further into the material trying to discern what he had collapsed on.

“What are you doing?” Yoochun’s voice was clearly straining, his laughter being held back by force. Opening his eyes and turning to face the ceiling Jaejoong snorted in amusement

“My bad, I thought you were the couch”

“I can see how you could have made that mistake” he rolled his eyes to emphasise his sarcasm

“Can I have a cookie?” Jaejoong attempted a cute pout to help his request but it was laughed away

“Can you get off my lap?”

“Nope” Jaejoong shook his head and got even more comfortable than before, squirming slightly as he positioned his body for optimised napping, swatting away Yoochun’s hand when he reached down to pinch his cheeks.

“You know we need to go to that party, you can act as cute as you want but it’s not getting you out of it” Yoochun absently twirled his fingers throu