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An annoying and insistent ping echoes through Yoochun’s dreams and blearily, he opens his eyes. Pawing for his cell phone, he finally manages to grasp it without too much damage to the other items on the bedside table.
He opens the text message, nearly blinding himself in the early morning darkness.
From: I Can Be Your Hero
To: Micky Mouse
Time Stamp: 0200
Message: What are you doing?
From: Stop Calling Me That
To: Not-My-Hero
Time Stamp: 0202
Message: Uh…sleeping?
From: I Can Kiss Away the Pain
To: Hey, Micky!
Time Stamp: 0203
Message: I’m lonely. Come cuddle with me.
Yoochun groans and lets his head fall back against the pillows beneath him. He knows Jaejoong is lonely, okay? He knows. Everyone who reads his Twitter feed and stalks his Instagram page knows.
To: The Only Thing Paining Me Right Now is You
From: PARK YOOCHUN
Time Stamp: 0205
Message: Jaejoongie…you know I can’t do that.
The messages stop and Yoochun is left to squirm. He knows--just as he knows what Jaejoong’s favorite color (this week) is, and just how Jaejoong likes his teokbokki--that he has hurt Jaejoong’s feelings.
But what is he supposed to do? It isn’t his fault his mom wanted to take him and Yoowhan on an early Christmas retreat. She had said: “We need to spend some time together.” And who is he to argue with his mother?
Besides, he’ll see Jaejoong soon. They still have a tour to finish.
An image of Jaejoong’s sad eyes and pout floats through Yoochun’s mind and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s wearing jeans and an old, frayed t-shirt, and slipping his feet into his boots.
It isn’t until he’s out the door and sitting in his car that he thinks: What kind of black magic has this man used against me?
But there’s nothing for it. He’s already dressed and in the car. Turning the key in the ignition, he steps on the gas and exits the hotel’s parking garage, heads toward the highway.
Two hours later, he’s standing in front of Jaejoong’s door, cold and tired and more than a little miffed that Jaejoong isn’t even answering his door.
He punches in the security code and enters the apartment, intent on giving Jaejoong a piece of his mind but the only thing that comes out is a loud oomph of air as he’s tackled to the ground.
“Jaejoong, what the hell?”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” Jaejoong says happily into his chest.
“Yeah, well, it was either brave the cold, dark streets of Seoul…or your wrath.”
“You definitely chose the better option.”
“You can explain this to my mother,” Yoochun says as he’s pulled up off the floor and toward the couch.
“Your mother loves me,” Jaejoong says nonchalantly. He pushes Yoochun down on the couch and straddles his lap, burrows into Yoochun’s chest with a happy little sigh.
Yoochun, in spite of the lingering feeling of annoyance, wraps his arms around Jaejoong’s waist.
“Jae, why are you up so late?” he whispers into the quiet.
Jaejoong squirms on his lap, apparently already half asleep. “I couldn’t sleep without you,” he mumbles.
A rush of stupid affection makes Yoochun’s chest hurt. He holds onto Jaejoong tighter and stands up from the couch, moves toward Jaejoong’s bedroom, practically dragging the older man along with him.
“It’s Christmas,” Jaejoong whispers as Yoochun lays him down. “And all I want is you.”
“You’re so corny,” Yoochun says.
“You love it,” Jaejoong says.
Yoochun doesn’t argue, just slides into bed next to Jaejoong, pulls the covers up over them, and curls into Jaejoong’s warmth. Because Jaejoong is right, he’d much rather be here than asleep, alone, in some cold hotel room.
“I already called your mother, by the way,” is the last thing Jaejoong says before he’s lightly snoring.
“Sneaky bastard,” Yoochun whispers fondly.