Jaejoong lay still against Yoochun, his head resting on the younger man’s shoulder. Every time Yoochun exhaled, his breath would wash over Jaejoong’s forehead and cheek, warming his skin. Jaejoong had one hand underneath Yoochun’s shirt, pressed against the expanse of skin that lay above his heart. The thrumming bass underneath Jaejoong’s fingertips passed from Yoochun’s skin and into his own, coursing through his body and soothing the erratic beat of his own heart.

Jaejoong’s eyes burned. He wanted so badly to close them, to escape from reality into a world of dreams, but the thoughts running rampant through his mind kept him awake. He felt restless and worried and afraid, for himself and for Yunho. The leader had left some time in the night and hadn’t returned. Jaejoong knew better than anybody how dangerous Seoul was at night. There were many dark places and shadows to get lost in. And if Yunho should be recognized, well, any self-respecting thug would jump at the chance to take a celebrity hostage.

Jaejoong closed his eyes against the mental image of Yunho lying face-down in a gutter down some nameless alley. It was just too much. He couldn’t just lie there. He had to do something to distract himself before he was driven crazy by his own thoughts.

He shifted against Yoochun slowly and tried to pull away without disturbing him; Yoochun was a notoriously light sleeper. When Jaejoong clambered off the bed, he snorted and twitched, then rolled over onto his other side and lay still once more. Jaejoong breathed a sigh of relief. He quietly snuck to the door and opened it gently. Jaejoong hurried down the corridor towards the front door, grabbing a sweater from the hallway closet on his way past. He opened the door without a sound and slipped down the hallway, headed for the elevator.

-----

Jaejoong had hoped the cool night air would clear his head, but still his mind was cloudy with a million and one thoughts. He walked around in a fog, his feet leading the way and his body following subconsciously.

Jaejoong was confused. He knew Yoochun was right. Eventually he would have to tell Yunho how he felt, he just didn’t want to. As much as he wanted to believe things would turn out for the best, he knew they wouldn’t. If and when Jaejoong told Yunho how he felt, he knew his whole world would crash down around him piece by tiny, painful piece. Yunho would not be happy to hear that Jaejoong loved him, nor would he accept and return those feelings.

No, Jaejoong was in this alone. He would have to hold out as long as he could. His will was strong….But Yunho was stronger, more stubborn. He would never leave Jaejoong alone. Jaejoong would eventually give in, and when that day came, he knew his heart would break into a million pieces. And Yunho would not be the one to put the pieces back together.

A sardonic smile crossed Jaejoong’s lips and he had to laugh. What a cruel joke somebody--God or the devil or some spurned wood’s witch, Jaejoong didn’t know--had played on him. If Jaejoong had had to fall in love with any of his friends, it should have been Yoochun. They were soul mates, alike in every way. They shared everything: their triumphs and their failures, their happiness and their pain. Jaejoong was more comfortable around Yoochun than he was around anybody else. In Yoochun’s presence, Jaejoong could be himself. It had always been like that. Even when they first met, Jaejoong had felt connected to him in a way that had surprised him. He had felt like he was reuniting with an old friend, rather than meeting somebody, a stranger, for the first time.

He wasn’t the only one to feel that way. Yoochun had told him as much that first night. They were camped out in the living room in a blanket fort they had made. A bowl of popcorn lay between them, forgotten. There was a stack of DVDs they had rented next to the TV, also forgotten. They spent that whole night talking about anything and everything that came to mind. Jaejoong told Yoochun all about his sisters, and how he was afraid their influence had made him too effeminate. Yoochun told him about his mother and brother back in America, and his crippling homesickness. As the world outside grew darker, so did their conversation. In the predawn light, they were whispering secrets to each other they had once sworn to take to their graves. And just before the sun came up, they fell asleep lying next to each other, their hands touching in the space between their bodies.

Jaejoong’s relationship with Yunho had never been like that. When they first met, they were both intimated by the other man. They worked together well enough, but their relationship never moved past a sense of professional respect. Not until Heechul had interfered. To make a long story short, he had snuck in soju one night and convinced Yunho and Jaejoong to drink with him. In no time they were drunk and laughing together, their inhibitions and their masks lowered enough to see past each other’s perceived flaws. What had come of it was a friendship Jaejoong cherished deeply. But he and Yunho were so different. They had different beliefs, different values, different temperaments. It seemed they were always getting under each other’s skin. They fought so much, Jaejoong sometimes wondered if there wasn’t a fine line between hate and love.

It should have been Yoochun, Jaejoong thought again. But things had not worked out that way. The fact was, he didn’t love Yoochun as anything more than a brother, and in some small way, as his savior. He didn’t know what he would do without Yoochun. Earlier he had been so close to falling apart but Yoochun had held him together.

Jaejoong was so afraid. What had happened earlier was a mistake, and he knew nothing would ever be the same. He had never wanted Yunho to see him in such a vulnerable state. Jaejoong’s emotions were sacred to him, and he chose carefully who was allowed to see beneath his mask. But it was more than that. Jaejoong hadn’t wanted Yunho to see because he knew Yunho wouldn’t understand. He had wanted to protect Yunho. But the mask had slipped and Yunho had seen into Jaejoong’s very soul. That he hadn’t understood what he saw there had made Yunho angry and confused, and he had reacted the only way he knew how to.

Their fights always got out of hand. Their tempers clashed at every given chance. Jaejoong was stubborn and Yunho had a strong need to assert himself. They threw words at each other that were meant to hurt. Their fight earlier had been a strong testament of just how much they pushed and pulled at each other until one of them snapped. And somehow, it was always Jaejoong who lost his temper first. For all of his masks and walls, Yunho was the only one who could get under his skin enough to make Jaejoong lash out.

But Jaejoong knew it could be much, much worse. The air between them was already thick with tension. If Yunho ever found out how Jaejoong felt about him, all hell would break loose. Jaejoong could not tell Yunho how he felt no matter how much he knew he would have to, some day. He couldn’t give up that easily. He dreaded that moment more than anything he had ever dreaded in his life.

Jaejoong shook his head and tried to forget about it. Obsessing wouldn’t help. Anyway, he had left the apartment to leave all of that behind. For just one night, he wanted to forget and be free. Free from the hardships of being Kim Jaejoong, an over-worked musician making very little pay. Free from being Kim Jaejoong, the man in love with his best friend.

He had entered downtown Seoul. The air thrummed with the heavy bass lines coming from all of the nightclubs, and the air positively reeked of alcohol and . He walked through the doors of the first nightclub that caught his eye. He paid the bouncer and entered the establishment. The club was dark, lit only by lasers and strobe lights. The music was loud enough to drown out even the noisy thoughts clamoring around in his head.

“Perfect,” Jaejoong muttered and made his way to the bar. He planned on getting smashed.

-----

Yunho jogged down the streets, pushing his way through the light fog that had settled around Seoul and hugged the city tight. Cars rushed past him, some of the drivers staring out their windows at him. Yunho paid them no mind and continued to make his way through the city, trying to outrun the turmoil he had left behind him.

He had never seen Jaejoong so torn up before. They did fight a lot, but Yunho had never seen Jaejoong react that way before. Then again, Yunho had never hit him before.

A pang of disgust hit him square in the chest. He had raised his hand to someone he cared for more than anybody in the world. In that moment, he hated himself. Jaejoong had been hurting and instead of comforting him, Yunho had only caused him more pain.

What was wrong with Jaejoong, anyway? Yunho thought. He was so tired of wondering and worrying constantly. He wished Jaejoong would just tell him what was wrong so he could try to help. Why did Jaejoong have to be so stubborn all the time? If he would only let people in, let them see behind that infernal façade he assumed all the time, he wouldn’t have to carry his pain around by himself.

No, that wasn’t completely accurate. Jaejoong had told somebody. Yunho wasn’t stupid. When he had walked in on Jaejoong and Yoochun in the kitchen, he knew instinctively that something was very, very wrong. Jaejoong hardly ever cried but he had been nearly inconsolable then. And Yoochun, well he had looked scared, and like the sky was falling down around him.

Yunho felt a fresh, hot spurt of anger rush through his body. What was so special about Yoochun that Jaejoong could go to him with his problems but not Yunho? Jaejoong used to be able to tell him everything. They used to spend many nights together, camped out in the living room on the couch, just talking about every little thing that would cross their minds. In their moments of happiness, they had to try their best not to laugh out loud for fear of waking the others. And in moments of tribulation, when things became too tough to handle on their own, they would share little touches and caresses to ease each other’s pain. Now Jaejoong had turned to Yoochun for comfort instead, and had all but shut Yunho out completely. But why?

Yunho shook his head firmly and diminished those thoughts to the back of his mind. The entire point of coming out tonight was to leave all of that drama behind him.

He stopped in front of a nightclub that was lit up with a large, green neon sign. Yunho hesitated for a moment then decided to go in. He could use a drink or two.

-----

The soju burned a trail of liquid fire down Jaejoong’s throat. Once he had drained every last drop, he slammed the glass down on the counter.

The room was spinning.

He swiveled on the bar stool and closed his eyes as the music reverberated through his body. It sunk into his skin and rattled his bones. His heartbeat pounded with the bass line.

A soft sigh escaped his mouth. Yes, this is exactly where he wanted to be. The dance floor beckoned to him like a lover, and he allowed the pulsating lights to lead him to the very center of the dance floor. His body unwound, gyrating to the fast song blasting through the speakers. Every thought that had been niggling at him that evening was swept away, and he became lost in the press of bodies circling around him.

Somebody, some faceless stranger, pressed up against him and wrapped strong arms around his waist. Jaejoong moaned and pressed back into the hard body against his. He could feel kisses being pressed against his shoulder and the underside of his throat. He moaned again as his body reacted to the stranger’s caresses and his thickened. However, before things could go any further, the person behind him was suddenly gone only to be replaced by somebody else. This person was taller, stronger. He felt oddly familiar.

Strong hands gripped his hips hard, biting into the flesh underneath his jeans hard enough to bruise. He was spun around and suddenly, Jaejoong was staring up into Yunho’s face. The leader did not look happy.

“What the are you doing here, Jaejoong?” Yunho shouted over the loud music.