Laundromat Encounter

Title : Laundromat Encounter
Author : enigmaxempress
Rating : PG - 13
Summary: In which doilies are relevant, washer #17 is where it all starts, and everything is somehow Yoochun’s fault.
Disclaimer : I own nothing.  Plot and story belongs to :  enigmaxempress
Original posted in : http://enigmaxempress.livejournal.com/19769.html

Enjoy!!!!



Sometimes, you meet the strangest people in the most normal circumstances.

Yunho finds that this is the case when, his father’s usual female lackey (was it secretary number two or three?) suddenly goes into labor during the busiest day at the firm. Everyone’s running around going insane because they’ve lost an extra pair of hands while his father’s voice is constantly buzzing through the intercom asking for this file and that document and to hurry along with some particular brand of caffeine. Yunho finds himself relegated to picking up the old man’s dry cleaning rather than sifting through legal paraphernalia.

He’s never been to a Laundromat before—always having done his laundry at home or having someone else do it for him—so when he walks in and sees all the appliances, he’s more than a little lost. He approaches the counter where a girl—who looks like she’s teetering between adolescence and middle age, smacking gum and sporting beehive hair that was probably taller than him—mans the front. He taps against the plexi-glass partition to get her attention and she takes one look at him in all his suit-wearing glory and decides that yeah, maybe he’s worth her time.

She smiles prettily (tries to), but braces are a bitch and the headgear really doesn’t help. Yunho tries not to wince as the metal creaks at the pull of her cheeks. “I was wondering where I could pick up my dry cleaning? It should be under ‘Jung’.”

The girl nods eagerly and yells something muffled towards the back, face obscured for a second before reappearing as she slides open a small block to talk to him. She quickly informs him that yes, the suits are ready, but there is another bag of clothes under the same name that came with no instructions and therefore left untouched. Yunho stands there dumbfounded for all of three seconds before asking to see what’s in the bag. The girl hurriedly brings it out, more than eager to ignore the line beginning to form behind Yunho.

Upon opening the bag, Yunho receives a mild shock as he comes face to face with his own (unwashed) underwear. Vaguely, he makes the connection between where his laundry gets done when he doesn’t get to do it himself. Slightly embarrassed he thanks the girl and quickly gets out of line. Slightly startled, the girl asks him what he plans to do. Yunho has more than half a mind to leave instructions for the rest of his laundry to be done and just hightailing it out of there. However, one look at Miss Teenage Middle Age Brace Face Bee Hive Hair and Yunho blanches. The thought of her anywhere near his undergarments was, quite frankly, mortifying.

And so, Yunho takes it upon himself to shake his head, give his thanks, and make a beeline for the nearest washing machine. Its only when he’s finally standing there that he realizes he has no idea what to do. He knows how to work a washing machine of course, even owns one in fact, but his was digital and had buttons and a nice voice asking him what he wanted to do. The one in front of him however, had no such buttons, the only thing digital about it was some kind of timer, and just those two facts alone made Yunho realize that no voice would be asking him anything.

He considers going back to the counter and asking the girl for help but as he turns around he discovers that her eyes never really left him. She’s gazing at him creepily from behind the glass, completely oblivious to the obviously irritated customer wanting to get her attention. He gives an awkward smile somewhat, before deciding that maybe asking her for help wouldn’t be the best idea. He toys with the notion of trying to figure it out on his own but quickly discards it after glancing at his watch. If he doesn’t hurry and do this Laundromat thing right the first time, he’s bound to be late, left with nothing but purple underwear that should be white and a scolding father/boss short on caffeine.

Desperately, he looks around for some kind soul who’d be willing to entertain a clueless first-time Laundromat washer. It’s slim pickings considering that anyone who could be helping him was still waiting in line, looking completely irritated as Miss Teenage Bee Hive Hair continues to leer at him. Their eyes meet and she smiles at him creepily, metal in her mouth all wet and shiny. He gives a little awkward wave before turning his head abruptly, landing on a dark haired man loading his laundry into what could be a dryer.

Yunho throws one last glance at Miss Teenage Bee Hive to make sure she’s still behind the glass before deciding that he needed to look occupied right now. He approaches the brunette quickly, steps purposeful. As he gets closer to the line of dryers, he’s mildly surprised to realize that the man looks vaguely familiar. He’s wearing brand name clothing of the distressed variety, all ripped jeans and multiple layers of dark cloth on his lithe frame. In a sudden spark of genius (none of which, unfortunately, pertain to how non-digital washing machines work) he makes a connection.

This man is just the sort of man his best friend would be acquainted with.

Yunho advances with renewed vigor and a brighter smile. “Hey, aren’t you the guy who—”

“—was sucking cock in that one really hot porno? Yeah, that’s me. Although, I did have blonde hair back then. I think this reddish brown suits me more though.” He continues to load his delicates into the dryer and Yunho is blessedly distracted by boxer briefs in hot pink and I love my mama stitched multiple times and in an array of colors around the crotch.

“Um. What?” Yunho says intelligently after he takes a moment to regain his bearings. “No. uh. Actually, I was wondering if you knew Park Yoochun? I’m a friend of his, Jung Yunho.” He puts out a hand, awkwardly, the only thing he could think of doing after the other man had divulged such personal information.

The other man freezes in the act of lifting black speedos with the words magic sticks HERE sewn onto the backside. His face goes from cold, pale indifference to stunning, scarlet mortification in a matter of seconds. “Oh. My. GOD.” He says, immediately dropping the tight underwear back into his now-insignificant laundry basket. Yunho follows the movement with his eyes, the black thing catching his attention completely. He regrets it a moment later when he spies a bright red thong with must be THIS big to ride ringed around the band.

His eyes revert to the good-looking man who looks like he’s about to have an aneurism. “I am so sorry.” The man quickly apologizes, face an odd tomato hue that Yunho is sure isn’t good for humans. “Yes. Yes, unfortunately I do know Yoochun, that bastard. He deserves to die. It’s his fault this is happening to me!”

Yunho gawks. Sort of. Discreetly he hopes, but he doesn’t know if he does, since he doesn’t really know what Yoochun has to do with anything. The bizarre underwear, maybe? Although, the last time he checked Junsu had his friend on a tight leash. Yoochun would have had no business gifting striking men with such…interesting under garments. Besides, the man wasn’t even here. How could he have possibly had anything to do with what was happening right now?

“Um. What?” He’s aware that he’s said that already, but for some reason, it seems to be the only phrase that applies.

“Please. Ignore anything I said since the moment this conversation started.” He pleads with eyes turned to brown liquid and Yunho has a hard time even thinking ‘no.’ “I’m Kim Jaejoong, the idiot who can’t keep his foot out of his mouth. How do you know Chunnie?”

“I’m Jung Yunho, a friend of his.” Yunho says, trying for a bright smile and hoping he doesn’t fail.

“Ah, as in Jung Yunho of Jung and Jung Law?” Jaejoong’s eyes light, embarrassment still flaming but making way for curiosity. “So you’re that lawyer friend then,” he replies when Yunho nods. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Kind of awkward, but still nice. So, um…what can I help you with?”

It’s Yunho’s turn to be embarrassed. “See, that’s the thing. I’ve never been to a Laundromat before,” Yunho says directly, opting for honesty. “And I have no idea what to do.”

Jaejoong laughs, a full sounding thing that distracts Yunho for all of three seconds. Mirth transforms his face into something Yunho can’t look away from, and the sound has more than one person staring. “Is that all?” Jaejoong says, eyes bright and amused. “Then I’d be more than happy to help.”

Jaejoong is all sorts of interesting. His striking, slightly cold features are a great contrast to the chattering, actually clumsy guy he turns out to be. He’s talkative, engaging Yunho in random, useless conversation that has both of them laughing and lapsing into more comfortable speech in no time.

“Ah, don’t call me hyung!” he exclaims when Yunho learns that Jaejoong’s older. “It’s only a couple of days’ difference and you seem more like a ‘hyung’ than I am,” he says with a grin while teaching Yunho the fine art of getting washer number 17 to work.

“It’s the best washer here,” Jaejoong whispers conspiratorially, taking coins from Yunho’s open palm and slipping them into the slot. “Not to mention the cheapest if you get the timing right.”

Yunho doesn’t understand but is more than happy to go along with Jaejoong’s antics. He watches curiously as the other man knocks along the side of the machine, listening. When he finds a particular sound, he grins in Yunho’s direction and drops a coin into the slot just as he lightly hits the metal side.

There’s a moment where nothing happens, where Yunho thinks that maybe Jaejoong’s got more than a few screws loose when—all of a sudden—the machine whirls to life. Jaejoong’s grin widens; Yunho doesn’t quite understand. “If you hit it again,” he explains, “just before the cycle finishes, at just the right moment, you won’t have to keep putting coins in. It’ll just keep going.”

“Ahhh,” Yunho nods in understanding. “You must come here often to know that trick.”

Jaejoong just smiles, another chuckle muffled by his hand as he spies his dryer slowing its tumble. “Don’t leave your washer.” Jaejoong imparts this tidbit of information as he swiftly makes his way to his drying laundry. “People get scary territorial here—especially when they’re in a hurry.”

Yunho does exactly what Jaejoong says and the rest of the hour is spent rather productively, amusing conversation passing easily between cycles. He learns all sorts of interesting things about Jaejoong: colorful, hair-raising escapades that have Yunho laughing his off with a healthy dose of second-hand embarrassment in Jaejoong’s stead. “It’s funny,” he says while Jaejoong teaches him the best way to fold with the least amount of wrinkles. “But I feel oddly accomplished.”

“Yes, well, clean clothes do help with self-esteem,” Jaejoong replies, a twinkle in his eyes. “Although, I do find it funny we haven’t met before. You’d think that with Yoochun as a mutual acquaintance, we’d have at least met once.”

Yunho doesn’t find it weird at all. “I don’t go out often,” he explains, discretely folding away the last of his underwear. “My father’s thinking of retiring, so it’s been really busy at the firm. Before that it was school and—”

“I get it, I get it,” Jaejoong laughs, “You’re one of those over-achiever types. My roommate’s like that. He’s younger than us, majoring in biology at the University. He’s got the most pain-in-the-ass tendencies when it comes to school.” The words are a bit insulting, but Jaejoong has the fondest expression on his face so Yunho knows not to be offended. “For example, it’s lights-out at exactly 12, and if a pin so much as drops before 6 a.m. he goes berserk. I have to be real quiet when I come in from my shifts.”

“Ah, where do you work?”

“I bartend a couple of nights at a club called Vise. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” Yunho hasn’t. “You should check it out sometime. I bet I could get you lots of free drinks if you look as good as I think you do in something other than a suit.” Yunho’s pretty sure that comment has veiled sexual connotations, but he’s busy trying not to blush too hard at Jaejoong’s blatant flattery. His beeper goes off all of a sudden and he remembers he has no business being flattered right now.

“I’m sorry, Jaejoong-sshi, but I’ve got to go.” Yunho says apologetically. This is the most he’s enjoyed himself in almost half a year and Yunho is reluctant to have it end.

Jaejoong shrugs, blasé. “Duty calls, yeah?” Yunho nods, unenthusiastically gathering his laundry bags. “Seriously though, when you’re done being Super Attorney or whatever, have Yoochun drag you out to Vise sometime and I’ll get you a drink on the house.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Yunho returns, momentarily blinded by the smile Jaejoong gives him. He really does look different when he smiles, the planes of his face suddenly so captivating that Yunho almost doesn’t want to look away. He has to though, and with a reluctant wave, Yunho is out the door.

--

And maybe it’s really meant to be, because a week passes by and Yunho doesn’t forget Jaejoong or his offer. Even in the midst of his father’s endless retirement preparations and handling a few of his own minor, ongoing cases, Yunho somehow still finds odd moments in the day to think of Jaejoong and their “Laundromat Encounter.” It sounds a bit stupid and not at all hotshot attorney-like, but the words slip unbidden as Yoochun lounges in Yunho’s office uninvited.

“’Laundromat Encounter’?” the younger man asks, one brow arched high on his sizeable forehead. “You gave it a name?”

“Well, that’s what it was, wasn’t it?” Yunho answers defensively, a little warm in the cheeks.

“Yeah, but you named it. Naming it is so… so juvenile.” Yoochun grins, amused. “I thought only pre-pubescent girls did that.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Yunho says, miffed. “I’m not a pre-pubescent girl.”

“Could have fooled me!” he says between laughs, unable to hold it in any longer. Yunho’s affronted expression only makes it even funnier.

“Should I continue to do this for free?” Yunho asks, lip curled and pointing to the revisions he’s done for one of Yoochun’s contracts. “Maybe Mr. Free Lance Composer should find another lawyer to make sure he doesn’t get swindled.”

“Irritable, aren’t we?” Yoochun placates, sobering though the grin doesn’t completely disappear from his face. “Fine, fine,” Yoochun says with a roll of his eyes. “But is it just me or does it sound like you maybe, sorta, kinda, like-a, be in like with Jaejoong hyung?”

Yunho pauses at the oddly phrased question. “Is that what it sounds like?”

“Well, you can’t stop thinking about him. And you named your ‘encounter’,” Yoochun ticks them off one by one with his fingers. “And you look all smiley and happy-like when you talk about him.”

“But he was funny! And helpful! And had the most interesting underwear I’ve had the misfortune to see!” Yunho reasons.

Yoochun bursts out laughing. “That… would be my fault.” He admits, eyes shining with mirth. “But that’s not exactly my story to tell,” he adds when Yunho prompts him for more. “Still… there might be a problem if you do like him.”

“Why? What kind of problem?” Yunho asks a little too quickly. Yoochun peers at him knowingly.

“Well, nothing big, really,” Yoochun shrugs, “But I’m pretty sure he’s more or less already attached.”

“Oh.” Yunho can’t ignore the slight sting of disappointment at the tidbit of information Yoochun imparts. He stifles the urge to ask ‘to whom?’

“I mean, he hasn’t said anything to me, and it’s mostly just speculation but…” Yoochun pauses for a moment, as if wondering. “He and that roommate of his… if you ever see them together, you’d wonder too.”

Yunho tries not to let it bother him, but the rest of his day ends up looking bleak. He goes to bed early that night, but sleep proves to be elusive as he tosses and turns into the wee hours of the morning. Around four a.m., he decides to just suck it up like a man and be done with it. He knew Jaejoong for all of an hour and a half, and that’s an impossibly short time to become so unreasonably attached.

With that decided, Yunho’s a little surprised that he’s able to let it go so easily. Maybe he hadn’t liked Jaejoong after all? He hadn’t really thought about it until Yoochun brought it up. Yes. Yoochun.

“Yoochun, that bastard! It’s all his fault!” Yunho grumbles into his pillow. “Putting thoughts into my head and words into my mouth. I’ll show him. Won’t do his legal crap for free anymore. And I’ll tell Junsu he flirts with all the girls. And…”

Yunho sleeps well, sticking pins and voodoo dolls with distinctly large foreheads coloring his dreams.

--

The firm gets busier and busier and even busier when his father decides to take one last case “for old time’s sake.” It just so happens that he chooses the most high profile one, with multiple murders, mind-boggling mystery, evil CEOs, and all sorts of loose ends. Yunho is exempted from the actual case, a fact that Yunho isn’t sure whether to consider a blessing or an insult, but rejoices at the lack of migraines for the duration of the trial. He is, however, mildly distressed at being demoted to his father’s clerk, researching the oddest things like chewing gum and the dangers concerning icicles.

The entire firm is pouring most of its effort into this case and it’s hard on everyone, but after two weeks of his father’s insanity, coupled with his peculiar demands, Yunho is wishing he was one of the murdered instead. His own cases are piling up, petty cases yes, but ones that require his attention nonetheless. His secretary is now practically his stalker, hounding him constantly with deadlines, phone calls, and irate clients. Yunho is convinced that his cell phone is the devil incarnate, ringing at all hours of the night, the voices of either his father or his secretary on the other end, waking him just when he’s about to get some much needed sleep.

He’s probably acquired some insanity from his father, because he’d have to be crazy to be calling Yoochun of all people and asking to be saved one night.

“Save meeeeeeeee.” He says into the phone, not even bothering to say hello.

Yoochun, bless his soul, immediately says, “Are you at home? I’ll be right there. Dress Sexy.”

He hangs up right after, and Yunho isn’t left feeling any better but he’s so used to odd requests lately that Yoochun’s is easy. Yunho goes into his closet—it’s walk-in of course, because he’s a hot-shot lawyer, even if he’s currently playing the role of his father’s lackey—and, feeling reckless, goes for something scandalous. His entire outfit consists of tight, tight, tight pants, shiny belt, and a shirt with a scoop so low it put his chest(manboobs) on display.

Yoochun approves.

“Damn, hyung, you must be in a dire need for alcohol and ass if you’re wearing that.” He whistles appreciatively at the amount of skin Yunho has exposed, but doesn’t look twice at Yunho’s molded ass. “I’ve had better,” he answers, despite Yunho not saying a word. Yunho would really rather not hear about his and Junsu’s sexcapades.

Yoochun drives them to the edge of the city, where the night life flourished. The secluded district is often referred to as the Strip—a terrible pun, Yunho thinks, watching neon signs for strip clubs pass by—where no holds are barred and where every vice can be found. Yunho is somewhat familiar with these streets, having had a brief stint of rebellion in college. Coincidentally it’s when he’d met Yoochun, then a devil may care underclassman with a penchant for too many bed partners and too little scruples.

While Yunho usually teetered between fortune and misfortune when it came to his and Yoochun’s fateful meeting at an alcohol chugging contest, Yunho considers it the latter at the moment. He’s been such a workaholic and a recluse these past weeks that there was literally no one else to call. At least no one who’d answered, anyway.

It’s more than a little irresponsible, yes, what with Yoochun’s motto in life—everything looks better drunk and from ten feet away—but Yunho thinks that a couple of shots of some hard liquor would be awesome right now. They end up at the very heart of the Strip, where the worst of everything is, and waits patiently while Yoochun looks for a place to park in an already filled parking lot. A space magically appears not too far from where they want to be, which happens to be a dark building with blacked out windows and a huge iron door. Yunho is doubtful of Yoochun’s choice, but his friend knows these things better than he does.

The building is devoid of any light, all dark brick and black windows, but there’s a long line forming in front of the iron doors, so obviously the establishment has something going for it that Yunho has yet to discover. He’s prepared for a long wait when all of a sudden Yoochun jumps the line, bypassing it all together and heading straight for the door where a massive bouncer predictably mans the front. Yunho lifts a brow at this, is in the middle of opening his mouth to ask opening his mouth to ask—Yoochun, what the fuck?—when Yoochun smiles and answers of his own accord.

“Mr. Free Lance Composer is moving up in the world.” He winks at Yunho then proceeds to chat with the bouncer, who, Yunho has to admit, doesn’t look as scary while tweaking Yoochun’s cheek and telling him how cute he is. With one arm, he slides the iron door behind him like it’s nothing, letting them through, but not without giving Yunho a scrutinizing once over. Yunho almost feels naked under his beady gaze, the way those eyes zero in on the expanse of his exposed chest makes Yunho want to cross his arms.

“Where are we?” Yunho finally thinks to ask when they pass through the door. He shivers when the iron door shuts behind them, creating a slight gust of wind. He obviously hadn’t been thinking when choosing his outfit for the night.

They’re in what seems like a vestibule, though it’s so dimly lighted that Yunho can hardly be sure. The only illumination comes from twin light bulbs at the ends of the small hall, one above them, and the other over what looks like another door. The loud thumping of a heavy bass resonates from unseen walls.

“The main club is through that door.” Yoochun starts walking towards the only other light, and Yunho follows behind him hurriedly. “You said you wanted to come here, right? Welcome to Vise.”

In true Yoochun fashion he opens the door with an exaggerated flourish, fully expecting Yunho to be amazed. He is. Unlike the outside, the inside of the club is a world of flashing lights and loud music. It’s got a gothic feel to it, complete with gargoyles placed in strategic places over head, holding chains to support a platform where a DJ spins his tracks. Everything is black, or some depressing shade of gray, but the lights and colorfully dressed people more than make up for the lack of significant color. Yunho is surprised to find that things go down instead of up. They seem to be on the uppermost floor, and the bottom seems to be a crater with what looks like a circular bar in the midst of it all.

Yoochun leads the way with a wave of his hands, and Yunho follows dazedly down a spiraling staircase. They pass two floors filled with gyrating people with relative ease, though Yoochun is stopped more than once by acquaintances who hail him. Yoochun points to Yunho and yells over the loud music to introduce him and Yunho just nods, not seeing the point in responding. He earns himself a number of leers, none of which he returns. He needs a couple shots of something strong to return to being more agreeable.

The bar is thankfully not too crowded, the masses seem to be more interested in dancing to the music, something Yunho wholly agrees to. He’s decent on the dance floor and can feel potential energy building up in his limbs. But first—

“Liquor. The hardest you’ve got.” Yunho says to the bar tender faced the other way, showing off a rather expansive tattoo on his back. The music isn’t as loud down here, though he does have to raise his voice to catch the other man’s attention.

“Our hardest liquor? That’s some pretty hardcore—eh?” Yunho is met with Jaejoong’s face, surprise written all over his perfect features. Dark liner lines his eyes, emphasizing their green tint, and Yunho is vaguely reminded of being sucked into a whirlpool. “Don’t I know you?”

“Hyung!” Yoochun exclaims, reappearing from whatever corner Yunho had left him. “This is Jung Yunho, do you remember him?”

“You’re that guy from the Laundromat!” Jaejoong realizes happily and somehow manages to look masculine while bouncing gleefully in a black wife beater. “I never saw you again, and you never came here, so I thought I scared you off or something!”

“You didn’t,” Yunho says, still a little dazed at this second meeting. “Work’s just gotten busier.”

“Right, right. Give me a second and I’ll get you that drink.” Jaejoong says, reaching under the bar for something. “Your father’s handling that one case right? The one with that one CEO who supposedly murdered that group he was managing?”

“That’s the one,” Yunho confirms, eyes lighting up when Jaejoong lays out shot glasses and starts mixing some odd concoction.

“Such a shame too. I listened to some of their music and they were pretty good,” Jaejoong says, turning to choose from the extensive collection of liquor behind him. “Their case is always on the news these days, but for the life of me I can never remember their name. Bong Yang Ki Shin? Dong Bang—”

“HALT! Stop right there, hyung,” Yoochun warns, looking at Yunho. “Yunho hyung was desperate enough to call me up and save him from his father’s evil clutches, so tonight, talking about work is off-limits.”

“Ah,” Jaejoong nods, “Well then, better drink up, Yunho-sshi, because Yoochun looks like a man on a mission.” Jaejoong sets a rather skinny, yet tall shot glass in front of him with some fiery looking liquid. One look at it’s multi-colored hue is enough to for Yunho to know that knocking back one of those would do just the trick.

“A mission to get him drunk off his ass and—if we get lucky—in someone’s by the end of the night!”

Yunho chokes involuntarily, both from the liquor burning down his throat and Yoochun’s words. “Good, ain’t it?” Yoochun wiggles his brows. “Had Jaejoong hyung make me one of those that one time I thought Junsu broke up with me and I was like ‘shit—the colors~’.”

Yunho could relate. The club suddenly looked so much more appealing. “What’s in this thing?” he asks, lifting up his empty glass in a gesture for more. Jaejoong just shakes his head.

“You don’t want to know,” he replies. “And you probably don’t want to down another one just yet. Go dance around a bit first, and if you still feel like shit afterwards, come back and I’ll make you another one.”

“Now that sounds like a good plan,” Yoochun says, hooking an arm around Yunho’s neck and pulling him in the direction of dancing bodies. “Let’s find someone for you to play with. We’ll be back hyung!” he calls over his shoulder, leaving Jaejoong to his work.

Yunho is reluctant to go, having just reacquainted himself with Jaejoong. But far enough from the bar, the lure of the music is hard to resist, seemingly calling to him, and it isn’t long before Yunho loses himself in a familiar rhythm. He’s glad Jaejoong warned him off a second shot because the first one seems to be taking its effect. The lights swirl, the music becomes bearable, and when countless girls sidle up to him, hands roaming, Yunho doesn’t mind. He welcomes them in fact, working a little of the charm he knows he has, touching just as much, encouraging. While he hadn’t come here looking to get laid, the idea was definitely growing on him. The only problem would be his general disinterest with breasts and persons without cock.

“All right, all right, ladies. That’s enough.” Yoochun suddenly appears amidst the throng of women Yunho has somehow become the center of, trying to be gentle as he pries a few off Yunho. “He might not be able to get married if you keep touching him there, sweet cheeks. Let’s go hy—whoa there, baby, that’s not for you. I’m already taken.” Yoochun wraps a firm arm around Yunho’s waist, pulling him forcefully out of the throng. “Sorry ladies, we like cock.”

Yunho giggles—giggles. That’s definitely the alcohol at work—at the collective groans and looks of disappointment before turning his attention to Yoochun, someone infinitely more interesting due to the penis in his possession.

“Hey Chunnie. How you doin’?” the words come out funny, and Yunho wonders what’s happened to the connection between his brain and his mouth.

“Jaejoong hyung mixes some pretty awesome drinks if it’s got you hitting on me,” Yoochun observes, amused. He blanches the very next moment. “HYUNG! What are you touching?! That belongs to Junsu!”

“Hmm. You’ve got no ass, Chun,” Yunho says, hands migrating south of Yoochun’s back to take a good squeeze. “Nope. None. But you’ve got cock, right Chun? Cock? Let’s go see—”

“NO.” Yoochun grabs Yunho’s hands just as they head for the front of his pants. “NO MORE DRINKS FOR YOU.” he says, scandalized. “NO MORE. Do you hear that Jaejoong hyung? NO MORE DRINKS.”

“What?” Jaejoong asks, winking at a female customer and serving her drink before turning to Yoochun. They’ve reached the bar—Jaejoong’s Lair! Yunho thinks, then berates himself for naming things again—and Yunho finally realizes the significance of Yoochun’s life motto. Jaejoong looks even better through an alcohol induced haze and a counter between them.

“Want to see me hip thrust? I’m good at it.” Yunho practically throws Yoochun to the side—a complete 180 to the way he was molesting me 30 seconds ago, Yoochun thinks wryly, bumping into an obscenely tall person, hey isn’t this—to give Jaejoong a demonstration of what exactly his hips are capable of.

“He really is good at it,” The tall young man observes loudly as he steadies Yoochun with a hand on his arm.

“Hey Changmin—thanks,” Yoochun says, regaining his balance with Changmin’s help. “What are you doing here? Given up on studying?”

“Even geniuses need a break,” Changmin replies, managing to sound smug even while distracted by Yunho’s rather enthusiastic pelvic thrusts. “Aren’t you going to help your friend, hyung? He looks like he might throw out his back or something.”

“Oh damn,” Yoochun mutters under his breath as Yunho reaches for a bar stool. “Changmin-ah, help me—he’s going to start humping the chair!”

Changmin resists when Yoochun pulls him by the wrist towards Yunho and the chair he’d deigned to violate. “What am I supposed to do?” he splutters, eyes glued to the way Yunho’s rubbing his crotch against a chair of the leg.

“Distract him!” Yoochun exclaims when they’re close enough, too busy gawking to actually do anything. His eyes grow wide when Yunho’s hands migrate to the button on his jeans, intent undeniable. “Quick! Grab him and I’ll save the chair!”

Changmin can only sputter in his wake. Yoochun’s already reaching for the bar stool, pulling it none too gently from under Yunho’s pelvic assault. Under the flashing strobe lights it’s as if Changmin’s sees it happen in slow motion. Like on again, off again frames from a really old movie, Changmin watches as Yunho wobbles for a second, disoriented by alcohol and the loss of the stool, and then he’s falling sideways heading straight for the ground. Changmin does what has apparently become his duty for the evening.

He catches Yunho by the upper arms just before he tumbles into a painful, face-first encounter with the floor.

Oof. “Are you okay?” Changmin says, even as he’s sure he can’t be heard over the loud music. He doubts the man in his arms can even understand stand him if the alcohol reeking from his mouth was any indication of his state of sobriety.

The man flails in his arms. “Ehhh~ Yoochun-ah! Why’d you take my… ooooh~ the colors!”

Changmin had a feeling he was seeing more than just the strobe lights casting shadows and color off the wall. “Changmin, bring him over here!” Yoochun gestured from a few feet away, taking a ready bottle of water from Jaejoong’s outstretched hand. Seeing the look on Jaejoong’s face, Changmin’s slightly annoyed that the older man’s done nothing to help and even has the gall to look amused.

He hauls the man up, putting an arm under his shoulder. Changmin sighs. This isn’t what he’d been expecting when he’d opted to go out for the night instead of staying home to study like he usually did. But the colored pins on his jarred frog specimens had started to blur and Changmin simply couldn’t stand another glance at his biology notes, not if he didn’t want to set the lot of them on fire.

Now, with a heavily drunken man—though he had to admit, he’s an incredibly good looking man—leaning against him, breathing toxic puffs of air against his cheek, Changmin doesn’t know if he should have just stayed home.

“Come on,” Changmin mutters under his breath when Yunho starts to drag his feet, eyes unfocused and head lolling precariously from side to side. “Almost—”

Changmin underestimates the man’s level of inebriety. Yoochun’s only a foot away when he hears the words whispered sleazily into his ear.

“Hey sexy~ how you doin’?” he has a moment of confusion immediately followed by shock.

Changmin becomes the unfortunate replacement for the bar stool.

--

“Yoochun-ah…” Yunho groans, head pounding even harder as a sharp ray of light cuts against his eyelids. He squirms, rolls around the bed, confused at not falling off the edge. He’s pretty sure his own bed is smaller than this. If this were his bed at all. With much effort, Yunho cracks his eyes open, focusing slowly at a dark painted plaster ceiling. That’s funny. He’s sure he had white walls the last time he was sober. Seconds later, a tsk-ing sounds from somewhere nearby. Yunho attempts to find out where the noise is coming from.

“Should I be suspicious?” Junsu says from beside the bed, face upside down. Yunho opens his mouth to ask Junsu? What the— “The first thing you say after waking up from a night of drunken debauchery is my boyfriend’s name. Should I be suspicious?”

They’re words he can barely process through the elephant stomping around his head, the questions, information—whatever they were—coming out of Junsu’s mouth were incomprehensible to Yunho’s heavy head. He doesn’t even attempt to answer, burrowing into the covers—that were not his own, he belatedly noted—and into sleep once again. That was an hour ago.

Now, sitting in one of the chairs of Yoochun’s barely used but very chrome and very well-equipped kitchen with his upper body sprawled across Yoochun’s very ornate dining table, Yunho wanted nothing more than to burrow into the covers again—whether or not they were his own. Junsu’s less than friendly expression as he sets a cup of steaming, blessed caffeine in front of Yunho certainly adds to the urge to burrow. He remembers Junsu being nicer.

“I’ll hold off on being nice until after you’ve explained to me what you were doing in Yoochun’s bed.” Junsu supplies, not too kindly.

Yunho winces. “I said that out loud.”

“Yeah, you did, hyung,” Junsu says, the tiniest smile trying not to let itself known. “Have a little more coffee. Maybe you’ll be more coherent then.”

Yunho doubts it. Coffee was Yoochun’s thing and while it certainly helped, Yunho would rather down an aspirin or two. Junsu, along with brewing the morning’s supply of coffee—bless his soul—was also a mind reader. He leaves the room for a moment and comes back with a bottle of Tylenol from the medicine cabinet. Not exactly aspirin, but it’d do the job.

“What are you doing here?” Yunho asks as he catches the bottle of medication Junsu slides forcefully across the table. He realizes it’s a stupid question once the words leave his mouth.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, hyung?” Junsu replies, pouring a cup of coffee himself and sitting across from Yunho. Yunho knows he isn’t fond of the stuff, that he preferred tea to coffee, but Yunho’s glad for the company. “I mean, Yoochun is my boyfriend and this is his house. I’m allowed to be here.” The look he gives Yunho after he says the words clearly states that Yunho is not.

Yunho is stumped for an answer. “Err—I don’t really know.”

“Right. Of course you don’t.” Junsu looks at him, skeptical.

“Really, I don’t!” Yunho insists. “Last night we went out to this – some club. Vise, I think? And then Jaejoong was there and he gave me this drink and then there was dancing and- and…” Yunho pauses, brow furrowing as he struggled to remember what came next. “I vaguely remember a bar stool and something—someone?—like a bean pole and not much after that.” He shrugs reluctantly and in chagrin. “Next thing I know I’m waking up in Yoochun’s house, in his bed, and you really want to kill me right now, don’t you?”

At that Junsu finally cracks a smile. “Hardly. It’s just kind of odd to find another man in my boyfriend’s bed, you know? Better you, I guess, than some random stranger, right? Or worse: someone female.” He says the word like it burns his tongue and for a moment Junsu looks murderous. Yunho is suddenly very appreciative of his single status.

The rest of the morning goes by pleasantly—or at least as pleasantly as being incredibly hung over could afford him with a chattering, infinitely cheerful Junsu in the background. Yunho makes use of the shower before gathering his things, realizing belatedly that the reason he was walking funny wasn’t because he was hung over but because last night’s fashion choice of very, very tight jeans was crowding his balls. The jeans gave him an illusion of an ass and really made his thighs stand out, something awesome when it came to going out but apparently it did no good for his circulation in the morning after. Also, he kind of reeked, alcohol and sweat mixing to make a very unpleasant smell.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Yunho asks Junsu when he grabs another cup of coffee on his way out.

“Yoochun’s at the recording studio to meet one of the new talents debuting at the company,” Junsu answers, rummaging through the cabinets for something ready-made and edible. He didn’t know how to work Yoochun’s kitchen anymore than Yoochun did, never mind all the high-tech stuff it was equipped with. He could barely work the digital stove. “He called me up and asked me to ‘take out the drunken trash.’” Junsu grins, hands emerging with a couple of Styrofoam bowls of instant ramen. “His words, not mine.”

Yunho declines Junsu’s offer of breakfast. The thought of food makes him queasy at the moment. “Are you telling me that you took time off your very busy morning to tend to me?” Yunho found that hard to believe. Junsu worked as a dance instructor for one of the biggest talent agencies in the country. He was usually very busy, something Yunho only knew too well considering the numerous times Yoochun had called him up during inopportune moments of his working day just to grumble about Junsu’s tight schedules.

“I was coming anyway,” Junsu says, puttering around for something to heat water with. “My apartment’s being renovated. I’m staying here for a few days.”

Yunho nods in understanding, sipping the rest of his coffee and waves Junsu goodbye not long after. It’s a lazy Sunday morning and once he crosses the threshold of his own apartment, Yunho gives in to his urge to burrow—thankful now that it’s into his own familiar sheets. He sleeps the rest of the day away to recover from his hang over and blessedly wakes up no longer with a throbbing head ache but a protesting stomach instead.

That problem is easily remedied with a hit of his speed dial to the pizzeria a couple blocks away, nourishment in the form of oozing cheese and greasy toppings arriving in 20 minutes or it was free. Yunho loved fast food. He loved fast food delivery even more.

It’s only half an hour later as he’s downing his third pizza to appease the beast his stomach had evolved into that Yunho starts to wonder.

What had happened last night anyway? He’d told Junsu the truth. He remembers going out to Vise, meeting Jaejoong, drinking some awful (but delicious!) concoction, and dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. The rest just blurs after that.

Just thinking about it trying to remember makes his head hurt again, so Yunho just stops thinking about it all together. Despite having woken up awkwardly in Yoochun’s bed and even more awkwardly discovered by Junsu, Yunho’s pretty sure nothing indecent had happened. Yoochun, for all his sleazy ways, was far from the Casanova he usually portrayed. Besides, he and Yoochun had had a brief, extremely mortifying stint in college involving much drunkenness, a leg waxing kit, and pantyhose. It’s a one-night stand they’d mutually agreed never to resurrect ever again—in thoughts and words—and they’ve been platonic ever since.

Yunho remembers the beginning and the end result is still mildly throbbing in his temples but it’s the things in between that make him wary. Little bits and pieces of what he remembers are fuzzy but incriminating. Yunho is just sure he embarrassed himself somehow last night. It’s a good thing he’d rather eat pizza than try to recollect.

The next morning Yunho decides on a whim to send Junsu flowers. It’s a huge arrangement of daisies and sunflowers – Junsu always reminded him of sunflowers – that Yunho had his secretary pick out. He sends one to Yoochun too because even if their night out had turned out to be nothing but a blur, Yunho still appreciated Yoochun’s effort.

Later in the day he gets a call from Yoochun.

“Why are you sending my boyfriend flowers?” Yoochun asks right away, not even bothering with hello.

“There are two,” Yunho answers idly, eyes still focused and scanning the file in front of him. “Did you check the card on the other one?”

There’s the sound of rustling tissue paper and plastic wrapping before Yoochun comes back on. “Oh. Well then. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Even if I don’t appreciate being referred to as ‘drunken trash.’”

Yoochun snorts on the other end of the line. “If you’d only seen yourself, hyung. You’d be calling yourself worse names. You don’t remember anything?”

Yunho lowers the file for a second to think. “No. No, I really don’t. I embarrassed myself didn’t I?”

“Immensely.” Yoochun said without hesitation. “I think it’s best you don’t remember. Your subconscious is trying to save you from a possibly traumatic experience.”

Yunho cringes. “Was it really that bad?”

“Hyung.” Yoochun starts in a matter of fact tone. “You were hitting on me. Me. We agreed never to go down that road again, remember?”

“Yes. I do, unfortunately. We also agreed it never really happened.”

“Awesome. I’m glad that agreement is still in effect. Anyway, just forget about the other night. You were highly embarrassing but you didn’t do anything life threatening or illegal so just let it go.”

Yunho was usually hesitant when Yoochun started giving advice, but he did have a point. Nothing could be done about it now, and he really was too busy to dwell on something so trivial anyway. They say their goodbyes when Yunho’s secretary pokes her head into Yunho’s office and informs him his father is on line one and hang up.

Days pass and once again Yunho falls into the rhythm set by his father at the firm. Tension at the office is high because his father and the legal team of the multiple murder case he’s heading are on the verge of discovering brand new information of epic proportions. Apparently it was a make or break kind of thing that meant the whole firm was on overdrive to do everything they could to help. More of Yunho’s cases – petty ones but still! – are set aside for more of his father’s demands and odd requests, so it comes as no surprise that he’s once again relegated to picking up laundry at a familiar Laundromat instead of putting his degree in law to good use.

There’s a feeling of déjà vu when he walks in because the girl with large, overly processed hair is still behind the Plexi-glass at the counter and being surrounded by this many appliances still overwhelms him. The only difference is that it’s after five now in the middle of the week and the place is almost deserted save for one or two harassed looking soccer moms agonizing about grass stains. Yunho half expects Jaejoong to reappear and offer him washing-machine advice. Jaejoong doesn’t though, and even if had been a slim chance anyway, Yunho still feels a little deflated.

The next couple of weeks at the firm are hectic and Yunho’s given up on all pretense of getting any of his own work done. He’s practically slave to his father’s whims and his secretary has taken it upon herself to become his personal torturer. She’s indispensible of course and Yunho doubts he could function without her but sometimes he wishes she wasn’t so good at her job. As a result of her efficiency most of Yunho’s clients have yet to storm through their offices with complaints and the few who have are easily appeased. Yunho has also somehow managed to keep up with all of his father’s demands and while that in itself is a miracle, it’s all at Yunho’s expense. He’s barely got a spare moment to himself these days; any downtime is brief and spent sleeping gathering energy and much needed rest before he’s once again bombarded with work.

He only talks to Yoochun twice in those weeks, both times over the phone because Yunho’s too busy to actually go out and socialize. The first call is just Yoochun making sure he’s still alive and informing him that he and Junsu have decided to tour the wilds of Africa. Yunho is a little surprised at their destination but not much since Junsu’s deep, abiding love for all things Kenyan was a secret to no one.

The second call is more shocking, occurring 3 days shy of a month in the middle of the night just as Yunho falls into bed after a long day. He almost doesn’t answer it because the number’s registered as unknown but it keeps ringing and he forgets all about irritation when he picks up and its Yoochun calling to say he and Yoochun are in Vegas and had just gotten married.

“I thought you guys went to Africa!” Yunho sputters incredulously, suddenly wide-awake despite the clock reading 4 a.m.

“We did!” Yoochun answers giddily in a tone that Yunho seldom heard. Happiness, maybe? “But every time we went to see the animals all they did was get it on. Apparently it’s mating season for a lot of them right now.”

“And you what, decided to hop on a plane to Vegas and mate too?”

“Yep. That’s pretty much how it went.”

“Somehow I have a hard time believing that Junsu just agreed to all of this.”

Yoochun laughs, the sound full and loud and so carefree even over the slight static of the phone lines. “Are you kidding? This was totally his idea! I’m telling you, there’s something about Kenya during mating season…”

Yunho would rather not know of course but he does give Yoochun his heartfelt congratulations before hanging up. Settling back into bed, Yunho’s inadvertently glad that he’s overworked. He goes right back to sleep, too tired to entertain the pang of jealousy he feels at his friends’ newfound marital bliss.

to be continued....