Darkness and uncertainty found him in the deliriousness of precognition and consciousness. Pain throbbed through his muddled mind and a dull ache pulsed through every fiber of his exhausted and sore being. And, yet he could not even find the time to care. He didn’t want to move. To even think. To barely breathe. Hoping beyond hope that sleep would take him once more, rather than having to face the light of day.

 

But, he finds, that reality rarely does what you wish whenever you wish it to.

 

He groaned in frustration, finally giving in to the wakefulness demanding to take hold, and slowly opened his eyes to realize that he was home, in bed, and alone. A fact that he found completely perplexing, though he was unsure as to why for a few moments more. Taking a minute to recall how he managed to get home from the bar last night, he comes up empty without even a flicker of memory and is instantly even more unsettled.

 

“Yunho?” came a questioning voice, prompting him to look up from where his eyes had naturally settled and spot his dearest friend, Changmin, looking down at him.

 

“So,” he immediately huffed sarcastically. “You are still alive.”

 

“Of course, I am,” grumbled Yunho dismissively, grimacing at the pain in his head.

 

“Could have fooled me, considering it's after one o’clock.”

 

“Bull,” dismissed Yunho, grumpily. “That’s a lie.”

 

“Don’t believe me?” he snorted. “Then, look at the clock.”

 

Yunho sighed heavily, turned to look at the bedside table, and instantly grumbled.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groused in confirmation, taking in the digital readout on the face of his alarm clock. “I missed the whole damn day?”

 

“Afraid so,” Changmin replied.

 

“And, work?”

 

“No need to worry,” he informed. “I took care of everything. As far as the company knows you’re taking a personal day, due to a cold.”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

“Why else?” scoffed Changmin, instantly irritated. “You were a no-show this morning. No call. No text. No one had seen or heard from you since yesterday. I was worried.”

 

“You could’ve just called.”

 

“Did, off and on, all morning,” he countered. “Not one answer. So I came to check on you.”

 

“Well, I’m fine,” dismissed Yunho. “As you can, clearly, see. So you can go home.”

 

“Fine?” Changmin instantly countered in disbelief.

 

“If this is you being fine,” he scolded, waving his hand over Yunho’s form for emphasis. “I’d hate to see what you’d look like as a complete mess. You look like a damn train wreck, Yunnie.”

 

Once again irritated, Yunho practically glared at Changmin for a split second before taking in the state of himself –eyes widening slightly, nearly instantly, at the sight of his partially uncovered, half- self, twisted up in his sheets and covered by only an ed pair of jeans barely hanging on his hips.

 

“Just what the hell did you do last night, anyway?”

 

“I...I...” mumbled Yunho as he tugged on the sheet and pulled it up to cover his lower half. “I don’t know.”

 

“Don’t know?” countered his friend. “How can you not know? Where did you go yesterday?”

 

“Where else? The Wolf Moon,” Yunho deadpanned, cutting an irritated look at his friend.

 

“And, just how much did you have to drink?” he countered, leaning down a little more into Yunho’s personal space, sniffing, and instantly balking at the smell wafting off his friend. “You smell like a damn brewery.”

 

“I don’t remember,”

 

"Well, try,” he practically demanded. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

Yunho, not in the mood to argue with his friend, begrudgingly gives in and closes his eyes. Trying his best to force himself to find some semblance of calm, he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. After a few moments more, and after managing to push back the throb in his head, he lets his mind fall back to last night.

 

Flashes of his arrival at the Wolf Moon, followed by his interactions with Bruce and the pretty Hostess quickly come, and almost instantly, thereafter, there is a flicker of inconsistency and the recollection of the visage of his mysterious interest from the mixer suddenly standing before him with a seductive smile. Curious beyond all measure, he concentrates, hoping to remember more than the last clear memory of Jae bringing him a bottle of Macallan and sitting beside him. But everything past that moment immediately becomes fuzzy. He shakes his head, trying to push away the cobwebs that are determined to linger, and tries again. Only to get a distorted flash of an empty of a bottle of Scotch, another half-empty bottle, and Jae’s delicate hand encroaching up his thigh. Instantly sending an almost delicious shiver up his spine.

 

He sighs at the memory and takes a moment to order his thoughts before he explains to Changmin what he remembers –deliberately choosing to not mention the part about Jae touching him. In hopes of circumventing another barrage of questions for which he had no answers.

 

“Jesus,” breathed out Changmin in disbelief. “What possessed you to drink so damn much?”

 

“I was...” sighed Yunho, finally sitting up slowly. “I don’t know.”

 

“Then you don’t know how you go home either, I take it?”

 

“No idea,”

 

Changmin instantly huffs, plops down on the edge of Yunho’s bed, and fishes out his phone from his inner pocket. Before Yunho can even ask what he is up to, Changmin dials a number, it rings once, and suddenly there is a voice on the other end of the line –echoing on speakerphone.

 

“Wolf Moon Bar, Bruce speaking,” answered the bouncer, his voice deep and sounding, somewhat, tired.

 

“Min,” Yunho warned.”Don’t”

 

“Good Afternoon,” Changmin answered, waving Yunho off. “My name is Shim Changmin.”

 

“Ah, Mr. Shim. What a wonderful surprise. It’s been quite a long time since we’ve heard from you. How are you?”

 

Changmin does not miss how one of Yunho’s eyebrows raises at the familiarity between the bouncer and him.

 

“Doing quite well,” he replies.

 

“Wonderful,” Bruce replied cheerfully. “So how may I help you, this afternoon?”

 

“It seems I need your assistance. I have an issue that I believe you can help me with,” he began. “My cousin was enjoying your wonderful establishment last night, and I’m afraid he doesn’t remember much. I’m concerned he may have done something untoward while he was there, as he has a tendency to do so from time to time. So, I was hoping that you may be able to fill in the blanks and perhaps confirm a few things for us –so that he will be able to make some sense of his jumbled memories.”

 

“Would that be possible, Bruce?”

 

“Possibly,” the bouncer replied. “We did have a few rowdy patrons last night and a few instances of people getting out of hand. If he’d caused a ruckus, I would know about it.”

 

“What is your cousin’s name?”

 

“Jung Yunho,”

 

With not even a sliver of hesitation, Bruce chuckled.

 

“No worries, there, Mr. Shim,” he informed, his voice seemingly amused by Changmin’s implied assertion of Yunho’s behavior. “Mr. Jung was a model patron last night.”

 

“Though he did tie one on, quite well and managed to down nearly two bottles of thirty-year-old Macallan Scotch, he did not cause any trouble for the staff. And, remained quite cordial to the very end of his visit –despite his final state of inebriation by the end of the night.”

 

“I see,” sighed Changmin looking up at Yunho with a flicker of disappointment on his face. “So, he gave you no issues, then?”

 

“None, whatsoever,” Bruce replied.

 

“That’s good,” Changmin nodded to himself. “And, would you happen to know how he managed to make it home last night? He didn’t drive, I hope?”

 

“No, Sir,” the bouncer answered. “Mr. Jung closed down the bar last night, and one of our staff members took it upon themselves to him home via a car service.”

 

“To my knowledge, he was safely home just before three.”

 

“Wonderful.”

 

“Though, isn’t it rare that bar employees would go to such lengths for a patron, this day in age?”

 

“Normally, yes, Mr. Shim,” confirmed Bruce. “But we take great pride in our care of our patrons. To abandon one and leave them to troubles of the world without guaranteeing their safety, after utilizing our services, is strictly prohibited by the owner.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Then, would it be possible for you to tell me the name of the employee who was so considerate?” countered Changmin curiously. “So that I may convey my thanks to them for their care of my cousin?”

 

“My apologies, Mr. Shim, but I am not at liberty to give that information out to the public,” stated Bruce, flatly. “For the sake of our employee’s privacy.”

 

“However,” he added. “If my response makes you feel uncomfortable, or makes you feel untrusting of the employee involved, I can say that the employee in question was not a stranger to Mr. Jung. They spent most of the evening together.”

 

Jae. Yunho inwardly sighed.

 

“Ah, I see.” Changmin sighed. “Then, is there any way you can tell me when the next time this employee will be working? I would like to personally thank them for entertaining my cousin and seeing to it that he got home safely.”

 

“Again, sorry, I can’t give that information out without prior authorization.”

 

“Very, well. I understand,” sighed Changmin again. “Then I shall not keep you any longer. But do, please, tell that employee that their help in this matter was most appreciated and that I would like to thank them properly in the near future if they are interested in such things.”

 

“I will let him know,” confirmed Bruce. “However, I cannot guarantee he will reach out as you wish, with any relative certainty or in any predictable time frame. That particular employee comes and goes as he pleases, as his contract demands. And, rarely sees anyone unless he is specially requested to do so.”

 

“So there is no telling when the next he will be seen. Let, alone, be available for such a conversation or arrangement.”

 

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” sighed Changmin quietly. “Very well then, I will just leave it to fate then.”

 

“I believe that is the best thing in this case,” agreed Bruce. “But, for what it’s worth, I do hope you receive an answer –if for nothing more than your peace of mind.”

 

“So do I...”

 

Changmin thanked Bruce, once more, for his time and ended the call; only to look up at Yunho with a questioning look.

 

“So, it seems you did manage to make a friend?”

 

“It was Joon,” answered Yunho instantly. “Apparently, he’s a bartender at the Wolf Moon.”

 

“Is he now?” smirked Changmin. “Now, isn’t that interesting?”

 

“What do you mean? What are you thinking, Min?” countered Yunho, suspicious of his best friend’s tone.

 

“Oh?” he answered before waving off the disbelieving look on Yunho’s face. “Nothing. I just thought that it was interesting that he is an employee and not just another patron. And, how fortuitous that fact is for you.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Now you know that if you show up there, continually, you’ll end up running into him again.”

 

“And, why would I want to do that?” countered Yunho, testing Changmin’s intentions.

 

“I don’t know. You tell me,” prodded Changmin.

 

“Min,” he sighed. “Can’t you give just give it a rest, already? I mean, I did what you asked. I went back to the bar. I talked to him.”

 

“And, promptly got -faced,” interrupted Changmin.

 

“So?” countered Yunho. “What does that matter? The point is: I did what I promised so you can drop all this...interfering you’re doing.”

 

“It’s called helping, Yunho, not interfering.”

 

“Did you, at least, manage to get his contact information before you went off the deep end?”

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“Where’s your phone?”

 

“On the table,” Yunho answered motioning to the table sitting next to his bedroom door. “Should be sitting in the bowl on top.”

 

Sighing heavily, Changmin slid off the edge of Yunho’s bed, crossed the room to the door, and inspected the blue-green, stained glass-style bowl on top. Finding not only Yunho’s keys and phone, but also his wallet. Instantly a curious suspicion flickered across his mind. Wondering if something far more sinister may have occurred last night. Reaching out, and without even bothering to voice his concern beforehand, he picked up Yunho’s wallet and checked its contents.

 

“Yunnie,” he questioned, looking at its interior. “How much cash did you have on you last night?”

 

“About five hundred, why?”

 

“What about your credit cards? How many do you usually carry with you?”

 

“Six, not counting my identification card,” Yunho answered with concern lacing his tone. “Why?”

 

“Is something missing?”

 

“No,” Changmin smiled thankfully as he finished recounting Yunho’s cash and cards for the second time; finding nothing out of place or missing; and closed the wallet.

 

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” replied Yunho, raising his brow in question as he watched his friend toss his wallet back in the bowl and pick up his phone.

 

Changmin just simply nodded, turned, and returned to his bedside.

 

“Here,” he prompted, tossing the phone into Yunho’s hands. “Check and see if you managed to get the man’s number while I go get you something for your hangover.”

 

“Ok,” nodded Yunho, before adding. “Medicine is in the usual place. The cabinet above the kitchen sink.”

 

“Mmm,” hummed Changmin in understanding, before turning and leaving his friend alone with his task.

 

As the door closed behind him, Yunho turned his attention to his phone and unlocked it. He immediately noticed that, according to the screen, he had received numerous messages and incoming phone calls over the course of the morning. Curious, he opened the text message window to see who had seemingly tried to blow up his phone –immediately spotting three texts from his secretary’s personal line and twelve texts from Changmin.

 

Jesus, Min! he thought in disbelief.

 

Sighing deeply, and feeling somewhat guilty for worrying his friend, he closed the text message window and opened the one for missed calls. Only to sigh once again as he saw six missed calls from Changmin, three from his office number, and two from his secretary's own number.

 

He had truly worried them. he thought to himself, with a frown.

 

Shaking away the guilt trying to creep in at such revelations, he closed the window and turned his attention to his contact list. Checking for every variation of Jae’s name, hoping to find it. Only to groan in disappointment a moment later when he, again, found no sign of the man that had stirred him so completely.

 

“Any luck?” questioned Changmin, as he stepped back into the room. A medicine bottle in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.

 

“No,” sighed Yunho in disappointment, tossing his phone on the mattress beside him before quietly running his hand through his hair in frustration.

 

“Disappointed?”

 

“Yes,” he answered almost instantly.

 

“You’re really hung up on this guy, huh?” countered Changmin, stepping up to Yunho’s bedside and handing over both the medicine and the glass of water, as he flashed a genuinely curious smile.

 

“You have no idea,” breathed out Yunho honestly, after popping the pills into his mouth Changmin had fished out for him and took a deep drink of his water.

 

“Enlighten me, then,” he replied, sitting back down on the edge of the bed beside his friend.

 

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Yunho admitted. “Really.”

 

“All I do know is, that when I’m around him, my whole body suddenly feels like it’s on fire,” he offered willingly. “And when he looks at me...I just...I just feel like that I belong by his side. Like we were meant to be together. Like I’ve been waiting my whole life for that very moment. For him.”

 

“It’s frustrating...and fantastic. All at the same time.”

 

“Sounds like you’re in love,”

 

“I’m not sure about that,” sighed Yunho. “But, I won't deny that I want him.”

 

“What about him? Was he interested?” prodded Changmin, curiously.

 

“Like you wouldn’t believe...” he breathed out, pure bewilderment in his voice.

 

“Did you sleep with him?”

 

“I...I don’t know. I...don’t remember,”

 

“Damn, that ,” Changmin replied.

 

“You have no idea...”

 

“Did you want to?” Changmin pushed, curious if Yunho was truly going to be completely honest with him.

 

“With every fiber of my being.”

 

“Well, then, if you’re so hung up on this guy...you only have two real choices,” advised Changmin with a smile. “Forget him and move on. Or, pursue him.”

 

“The question is: What do you want to do, Yunnie? Do you want to see him again?”

 

“Yes,”

 

“Then,” Changmin smiled, almost wickedly, as he reached over to Yunho and grabbed his phone. “Let’s see what we can do about it.”

 

“What are you doing?” Yunho countered reaching for his phone.

 

Changmin instantly swatted his hand away, unlocked the phone, opened his contact list, and hit a number he knew was there. The speakerphone immediately rang out loud, only twice, before a deep voice announced its presence.

 

“Front desk, this Lee Min Oh,” came the voice of the on-duty staff manning the front desk of Yunho’s apartment building. “How can I help you, this afternoon, Mr. Jung?”

 

“This is Mr. Shim,” Changmin replied. “Mr. Jung asked me to call to check on the information logs from last night. Seems he can home fairly drunk and he doesn’t remember who brought him home. So he was wondering if he signed anyone in last night when he came in.”

 

“Hold on a moment, Mr. Shim, and I will check the log.”

 

For a moment, the line goes quiet, and Yunho just shakes his head –not expecting any real answer to their curiosity, and then the voice returns.

 

“Mr. Shim?” questioned the man from the front desk.

 

“Yes?”

 

“It seems that Mr. Jung did sign in visitor last night,” the man informed. “They were signed in just before three and, according to the nightwatchman’s notes, the guest then left the building around five.”

 

“So they were here a total of two hours?”

 

“Seems so, Mr. Shim.” the man replied.

 

“And did they leave a name, by chance?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” he confirmed. “Says here that Mr. Jung’s guest was named...Kim Jaejoong.”

 

“Kim Jaejoong?” repeated Changmin curiously.

 

“Yes, Sir,” the desk clerk confirmed once more.

 

“Alright. Thank you for the information, Mr. Lee,”

 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Shim,” the man replied politely before disconnecting the call.

 

“Well,” Changmin instantly chirped the second the line went dead. “There you have it. Now we know his real name.”

 

“Yeah...”

 

“Why do you sound, suddenly, so disappointed? This is a good thing.”

 

“Knowing his name doesn’t help me find him, Min,” countered Yunho.

 

“Of course it does,” Changmin smiled mischievously.

 

“No,” ordered Yunho instantly. He knew that look all too well.

 

“What?”

 

“I won't have you digging into his past with that damn private detective of yours.”

 

“Why not? It would be the fastest way to find him, after all.”

 

“And, completely unfair. I have no right to violate his privacy like that and I definitely don’t want to pursue something with him knowing that it started out with something so underhanded.”

 

“Fine,” sighed Changmin in disappointment. “If that’s how you feel about it, I’ll leave it be.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Whatever,” dismissed his friend. “But don’t you dare come to me later and start whining about how you can’t find him or how much you miss him. I won’t listen.”

 

“I won’t. I promise.” nodded Yunho.

 

“Sure,” Changmin sighed dramatically. Not believing for one minute that this would be the last time he would see his best friend lamenting missed opportunities with Jaejoong.