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"I'm really glad you're here."
Junsu's smile hasn't dimmed in all the weeks Junho has been home, which only reaffirms his own sense of rightness.
"Me too."
Looking around, Junho ponders all the changes he's made in the last few months. Many had felt monumental but sitting here in a C-JeS practice room, his brother and best friend once more by his side, his parents a short drive away, all the possibilities for new beginnings on old soil, it's hard to think of those decisions as anything other than obvious choices, a way back home.
The restlessness inside is finally, finally, a muted whisper.
"Do you know if there's a–“ Jaejoong distractedly shoves the door open, pausing at the sight of Junho. "–tall ladder in here I can use?" he finishes, deliberately provocative.
Junho grins in acknowledgement. "Hyung."
After so many years, Jaejoong's outrageous flirting is no surprise and all the no-homo in the world couldn't stop his affection for JYJ’s oldest member.
Besides, being at the receiving end of the gorgeous singer's attention is very flattering, even to the straightest ego.
"Ew," Junsu says, wrinkling his nose. "No. Stop flirting with my brother in front of me."
Jaejoong pretends not to hear.
"We should all go out," he suggests, with that sincere warmth Junho has learned to associate with him. "Celebrate family coming together under one label."
"You know I don't drink," Junsu whines, curling petulantly into the couch. "Choose an arcade."
"And see if someone will baby-sit your brother," Jaejoong says, still ignoring him, one shoulder propped against the door with casual grace.
In retaliation, Junsu employs universal sign language to tell Jaejoong what he can do to himself.
Junho chortles.
God, he has missed this. He realizes at that moment just how much.
"Well, look at you all idling away. Am I the only one making the company money?" Yoochun asks, popping up from behind Jaejoong to peer into the room.
Junsu aims a death glare. "My musical, which you still haven't attended, is making plenty money, you–"
"Right," Jaejoong clears his throat. "Let's try and play nice for our newest recruit, shall we? We don't want to chase him off."
Yoochun frowns at Junsu. "I'm killing myself filming a drama and a movie, excuse you. I'm lucky I get time to breathe."
"And yet, here you are," Jaejoong murmurs. "With the rest of us idlers."
"Had to make some date conflicts go away."
His tone is even, smile flat as he glances at Jaejoong and it's all just so WRONG, it leaves Junho completely baffled. The two are as familiar to him as old friends and he has watched them interact long enough to sense hidden currents.
Or in this case, rip tides.
"Junho's welcome party is tonight," Jaejoong informs Yoochun, like it's a done deal. "I was thinking seven."
There's the briefest of hesitations. "I can't," Yoochun sends Junho a half-apologetic grimace. "I have a date tonight, sorry."
"Ahh, that type of conflict," Jaejoong nods sagely.
"Oh right, how is noona?" Junsu asks, voice sounding a little too loud, a little too contrived, the nervous tension in his body easily discernable, even if Junho can't interpret the reason for it.
"Noona?" he repeats. "Wait, from the club that night–?"
There had been someone, at his last vacation two months ago...
He tries to grasp a name and face but there's only the vague memory of breathless giggles and long, painted nails clinging to Yoochun's forearm.
He doesn't even need Junsu's incredulous snort to realize what a silly question that is. Yoochun has always gone through noonas the way he goes through a pack of smokes.
"Noona number I-stopped-counting-after-debut," Junsu tells him, with an evil grin at Yoochun.
"Short ladder," Jaejoong adds poker-faced, raising his hand to a spot few inches below his shoulder, but his eyes invite laughter. "Hundred percent home-grown."
Junho tries to keep a straight face. "Always the best kind."
"Oh, I don't know. A touch of the exotic is nice."
The laugh escapes him in a burst of sound. Jaejoong's penchant for Japan, including her men, IS after all as famous as Yoochun's weakness for noonas.
"Which rules my brother out, thank you." Junsu gives Jaejoong a pointed look.
"Are you kidding?" Jaejoong taunts. "I can practically smell the sakura on him."
Grinning broadly, Junho leans back and prepares to be further amused. It's odd how more things feel like home than he had ever considered. Jaejoong's deliberate needling, Junsu forever rising to the bait....
"As...interesting...as this is," Yoochun interrupts, cutting off his musings – and Junsu's sputters – "I need to head out for my date."
There's an edge to his words that kick-starts an awkwardness Junho would never expect from the trio, the giant elephant in the room visible to everyone but him. He stares, curiosity piqued.
"Have fun," Jaejoong tells him in a clear attempt at normalcy.
"Climbing ladders?" the other asks, too soft to tell if it's a joke.
Jaejoong's mouth tightens a fraction. "Test-driving for Ommoneim." Without missing a beat, he turns back to Junho, giving the sealed headphones in his hand a little shake. "I need to find those scissors. Later, dongsaengs."
His lithe form disappears from view, followed a few seconds later by Yoochun, and when they're both gone, Junho manages to close his mouth, looking at Junsu for explanations.
"What in the world–?"
Junsu exhales, throwing his head back against the couch. "You don't want to know."
"Um, yes, I do," Junho disagrees, poking his twin in demand.
And maybe Junsu has been wanting to talk about it, because after a long minute, he sighs and gives in.
"Last month one of hyung's…friends came to visit him from Japan."
The infinitesimal pause before 'friends' tells Junho what kind.
"Yoochun and me were out one day for coffee but then he decided to swing by the studio for some lyrics he had forgotten. Guess hyung and his friend had come in for something too." He shrugs with what Junho thinks is admirable detachment, considering his next words. "We sort of walked in on them."
"Awkward," Junho says, squirming with second-hand embarrassment.
"No," Junsu waves a hand, "not–" He pauses and Junho doesn't know if he's struggling for words or just reliving the scene. "Nothing physical, not really. They'd probably just lifted away from a kiss as we came in but... just...the intimacy, you know."
Junho does know. There's a bubble two people can create, with nothing but smiles and gestures and the weight of mutual feelings, that shuts out the rest of the world as effectively as an impenetrable wall.
"I've known Hyung for–God, it feels like forever–" Junsu gives a wry smile, "but I guess there are still sides to him we haven't seen."
As twins, the bond between them is stronger than most siblings can claim, which is why it's never bothered him to share Junsu with the other hyungs in his life. And because he's been sharing him for so long, he can read the true extent of the worry in Junsu's eyes.
"Yoochun not take it well?" he supplies with a frown, guessing at the aftermath of Yoochun learning there are unseen sides to Jaejoong, and walls separating him from his soulmate he can't breach.
Junsu snorts. "That would be an understatement." With another tired sigh, he admits, "Everything's gotten so weird since that day. I feel like I'm walking on egg-shells when they're in the same room."
"Have you tried talking to him about it?"
"Once, and he almost bit my head off." Junsu gives an emphatic shake of his head. "Not doing that again."
"Well, it definitely sounds like you could all use a celebratory party in here," Junho shoulder-bumps his brother, trying to cheer him up. "And not at an arcade."
Groaning, Junsu gives him a half-hearted shove. "Not you too, hyung. Team Trollmates don't need any help!"
They go out for celebratory drinks, minus Yoochun. Over the next few weeks, Junho meets the rest of the C-JeS roster and then things settle into a routine.
Of a sort, anyway.
With solo concerts and musicals and filming keeping the others busy, Junho is left with all the time in the world to figure out his game plan. Mostly this involves a lot of shooting hoops into the basket some employee has randomly tacked on to the wall. He wonders if he is the first C-JeS artist to break it in.
He's practicing hook-shots in the empty practice room one day and letting his mind wander, when Jaejoong strolls in.
"You know," the older man starts conversationally, "with solitaire, you wouldn't even have to get out of bed."
With a grin, Junho tosses him the ball, not surprised in the least when Jaejoong fumbles and drops it.
"Being here helps me think. Shoot a few with me," he pleads, grabbing the ball as it rolls past his feet.
Jaejoong scoffs. "I don't think so, Kim."
"All free throws, come on," Junho cajoles. "First one to score twenty-five points wins."
"Fine," Jaejoong gives in with a grumble, tossing aside his sunglasses and pushing up the sleeves to his hoodie. "If I win, you're buying me drinks."
"And if I win?" Junho raises an eye-brow. "Since, let's face it, that is far more likely."
"You buy me drinks?" Jaejoong winks.
Twenty minutes and a lot of good-natured heckling later, Junho is leading twenty points to Jaejoong's six. Elated, he does another little victory hip swivel.
Technically, hip swivels do not come under the category of crowing but judging by how Jaejoong's eyes are narrowing with each dance, he disagrees.
And okay, maybe competitiveness does run a little strong in their family.
He is lining up his next shot when pale arms just wrap around him from behind and start tugging. Caught by surprise, Junho feels the ball slip through his fingers and roll out of reach.
"Hey! That's cheating, hyung!"
"All's fair," Jaejoong grunts, and because there is a lot of hidden strength in that deceptively thin body, he manages to yank Junho backwards, the distance between them and the hoop growing by the second.
"You sore loser," Junho accuses, struggling to loosen the tight hold Jaejoong has on him.
The scuffle comes to an abrupt end when the back of Jaejoong's knees make forceful contact with the couch. With an 'oof' he goes down and Junho is quick to take advantage, yanking himself free and then maneuvering around to grip Jaejoong's hands, trapping them in the other’s lap. In response, Jaejoong calmly hooks a leg around each knee, holding Junho in place.
Junho meets Jaejoong's amused gaze with his own.
"Is this the C-JeS team spirit?" he scolds.
"Motion to re-negotiate terms," Jaejoong grins. "If no-one scores for a whole minute, the game is forfeit."
"Oh my god–" Junho starts, exasperated, just as the door to the practice room swings open.
Twisting around, or as much as is possible within Jaejoong's strangle-hold, he catches sight of Yoochun and smiles in greeting.
"Oh, hey!"
Yoochun doesn't respond.
Instead, his glance drifts over them, making Junho hyper aware of how he is bending over Jaejoong, bodies in close proximity, heads angled even closer...
Ignoring him, Yoochun focuses on Jaejoong. "Am I going to have to add a clause in my contract about walking in on you in empty studios?" he asks pleasantly.
Junho can feel Jaejoong turn rigid beneath his fingers, but his face remains smooth.
"Or you could knock."
Conscious of the tension building between the two men, Junho straightens in a rush.
"We were just playing basketball," he forces a laugh, "but hyung cheats, Yoochun-ah. Why don't you play with me instead?"
He has no interest in getting in the middle of...whatever this situation is, and not just because it makes him uncomfortable.
Though they have always gotten along really well, he's a brother-in-law of sorts in this relationship and has no desire to push boundaries by attempting to play counselor or confidant.
"No thanks," Yoochun bites out, barely sparing him a glance, and then he's gone, the door slamming shut behind him.
"Um," Junho says, trying to gloss over the awkwardness. "Guess someone got out of the wrong side of his bed."
"Been a lot of that happening lately." Jaejoong gives a grim smile, shoving a hand through his hair with a rough, jerky motion. "I have to leave, I need to–"
The words trail off but Junho doesn't comment. Instead, he reaches out to squeeze a bony shoulder, wishing there was more he could do to offer comfort. "See you later, hyung. And next time we play, I will kick your butt."
Post-dinner festivities in Jaejoong's apartment usually consist of sated bodies draped in varying degrees of lethargy on the living room floor. Junho tries not to think about how many hours he'll need at the gym tomorrow to work off all that food.
Comfortably squished against three pillows, Junsu glares across at Jaejoong.
"Don't you dare."
"Who wants to play 'Spin the bottle?'" Jaejoong asks, ignoring Junsu hard, his face relaxed and playful in its lines, cheeks flushed more from the effects of company than the alcohol he's consumed. The space is front of him is clear of everything except an empty soju bottle lying ominously on its side, fingers held over it in readiness.
"Yeah, I'm so leaving."
"Oh, hush and drink your orange juice, party-pooper," Jaejoong admonishes. "What's your beef with kissing games?"
"None at all, if there were any girls here!" Junsu rolls his eyes. "And if you think I'm playing with a group that includes my brother–!"
Seated next to him, Junho suppresses a shudder at the thought.
"Yeahhh," Jaejoong grimaces, "none of us want that sort of mental scarring, so definitely no locking lips with a twin."
"I'm not kissing you either. Or Yoochun."
Automatically, Junho's eyes go to the silent figure seated next to Jaejoong.
Separated by what seems like a chasm but is a mere three feet, Yoochun has been distant the entire evening, speaking rarely and appearing more preoccupied with the book he brought along. Junho thinks it's beyond rude but figures it's not really his place to comment, especially given how hard Jaejoong and Junsu are working at pretending everything's fine. But every now and then, a jaw tightens and gives away their true feelings.
It's been a month since the basketball game and things aren't any closer to being resolved.
A snort from Jaejoong drags his attention back to the bickering duo.
"So says the man who kissed another on stage."
"YOU KNOW THAT WAS–" Junsu explodes but Jaejoong only waves his words away with a bright, "My turn first."
Junho suffers a punch to the arm for laughing, Jaejoong gives the bottle an enthusiastic spin.
For long moments, it spins in place, holding everyone's attention without effort, before coming to rest with the neck end pointing to some indiscriminate spot between the TV and bookshelf.
With a disappointed click of his tongue, Jaejoong prepares to spin again. "That one doesn't count, so I get another go."
The second spin leads nowhere, the third stops at Junsu.
"Oh hell no," Junsu warns, tone forceful.
Jaejoong wrinkles his nose. "No," he agrees. "And since that one didn't count either–"
He sets the bottle in motion with a careful, precise touch, bottom lip clenched tight between his teeth as he concentrates fiercely on getting the physics right. Then shoots Junho a wicked grin.
Amused, Junho waits it out.
It takes four more tries before the bottle lands on Junho and Jaejoong's expression morphs into one of glee.
Raising a hand in dramatic fashion, he gives Junho a solemn look. "It must be fate."
"How can we argue with fate?" Junho teases.
It's a fun game they play but that's all it is. A game they both know the rules to, a game they are good at, a game that will never draw blood because it will never lead anywhere deep. And despite Junsu's pretend bluster and faked outrage, he knows it too.
Crawling towards Junho with an exaggerated leer, Jaejoong reaches out to lightly hold his head between both palms. Then, with Junsu's whine of "I thought we voted against mental scarring" still in the air, he presses a chaste kiss to Junho's forehead.
"You can look now," he tells Junsu, shuffling back to his spot, "it's safe."
"Never," Junsu uncovers his face. "It's never safe while you have designs on my brother's virtue."
"If you're jealous, why didn't you just say so?" Holding his arms out, Jaejoong moves his fingers in a beckoning gesture. "Come here and get yours, Junsu-yah. Hyung will guide you well."
Junsu throws a pillow at him.
"Fine," Jaejoong sniffs, "be elitist. Kiss only musical dudes."
Junho watches them stick their tongues out at each-other and feels seventy years old.
And then Jaejoong gives the bottle another absent-minded whirl.
This time, it goes spinning out of orbit, moving in an arc and catching on Yoochun's bare toe, rocking back and forth against his foot with loud, clinking sounds.
When it stills, the bottle is pointing straight at Yoochun.
A mixture of bemusement and consternation crosses Jaejoong's face before it gets blanked out.
"Mustn't neglect you," he says, voice carefully neutral, then gets on his knees, leaning forward to close the distance and giving Yoochun a brief kiss on the cheek, one hand splayed against the couch for balance.
Yoochun gives him a hooded look. "For someone who instigates kissing games, you sure wuss out a lot," he says, then winds a hand round Jaejoong's neck and pulls him down into a kiss.
There's nothing soft about it and Jaejoong leaps to his feet almost before Junho can straighten in shock.
"What the fuck was that?" Jaejoong hisses with quiet fury.
Then, as if he doesn't trust himself to stay there anymore, he turns and strides out into the balcony, the sliding door closing with enough force to set the opaque glass rattling.
Junho has never seen Jaejoong in a real rage before, though Junsu has assured him it happens, and it occurs to him most people would be surprised at what lies beneath all that self-imposed control.
But Jaejoong is not the only one whose control has snapped.
"Fix it." Junsu's body trembles with the strength of his emotions. "Now."
For one dangerous moment, it seems like Yoochun will refuse and Junho would definitely recommend against that.
When his brother means business, everyone better get out of the way, and he's not sure anyone's ready for two very pissed off JYJ members on their hands.
But in the end, Yoochun throws his book aside and stomps out after Jaejoong, leaving Junho to wonder if that's any wiser.
He turns concerned eyes to Junsu.
"Hey," he whispers, trying to tune out the muffled 'WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?' erupting from behind them, "you want to leave?"
Junsu shakes his head, staring ahead of him and breathing hard. "I can't."
"Ok."
He had expected that.
"Hey," he repeats, because he can see how tightly Junsu is wound, "they're going to be okay, you know that, right? It's going to be fine."
"Good." Junsu doesn't look at him at all. "Because I won't survive another band break-up."
Most days Junho forgets how life has aged Junsu in a way that makes him older than his years. The infrequent reminders always sting the back of his throat.
He settles for wrapping an arm around Junsu's shoulder and leans back, trying not to focus on the bursts of angry words that slip past the thick glass and resound in the silent room. Trying, for his brother's sake, not to wish he was somewhere else, rather than be stuck in the cross-hairs of this private confrontation, feeling like an intruder.
Something clatters to the ground and Junsu surges to his feet, tugging away from the Junho's grip, forcing him to follow.
Certainly not by desire but more in an effort to keep this from becoming an even bigger shit-storm.
They're about five feet from the closed screen door, Junho still trying to hold Junsu back, when Jaejoong's voice rises to an audible shout.
Unconsciously they freeze in their tracks. The patterned glass is thick enough that the two men on the other side are dark, barely distinguishable shapes but at such close range, their raised voices filter through clearly.
"–NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMNED BUSINESS. WHY DON'T YOU TAKE YOUR HIDDEN HOMOPHOBIA AND GO–?"
Yoochun's laugh is harsh. "Homophobia?! That's totally not what this is about–"
"Then WHAT is this about?" Jaejoong’s breathing is loud, testament to his anger and agitation.
"I just want you to keep it in your pants long enough to not destroy the career I worked my ass off for–"
"Oh sure," Jaejoong interrupts caustically. "Because going through Korea's entire supply of noonas is soooo much more respectable. All for Mother's sake, of course."
"Don't bring–" Yoochun's voice shakes in an audible loss of control. "Don't you bring family into this–"
Shit. FUCK.
Dismayed, Junho closes his eyes on a quick prayer. This was rapidly spiraling to a point of no return.
"Don't you bring my commitment to the band into this! Seriously–" Jaejoong makes a slashing motion with his hand, "just tell me what your problem is because I'm so fucking SICK of your bullshit–"
"YOU WANT TO KNOW MY PROBLEM? I'LL TELL YOU MY PROBLEM! I WANT TO KNOW WHY YOU WON'T PICK ME!"
Junho’s lips part on a soundless gasp, every thought in his head obliterated, the words ringing in the air and sinking into his consciousness with a weight he had never suspected.
Dimly, he is aware that Junsu is also unmoving, like a weirdly positioned mannequin in a curiosity show, his breath held in suspension. But beyond that, Junho's aware of little else.
"PICK-PICK YOU?!" Jaejoong's voice is practically a screech. "You're STRAIGHT! Why the fuck would I pick you?!"
"Oh, like that stopped you in there!"
Junho knows the hand that stabbed the air isn't pointing directly at him, that they can't see him and Junsu standing there through the heavy, patterned glass, that they have both been completely and utterly forgotten, but he still feels the heat of a blush, of partial guilt.
"Fucking PICK ME, for once just–"
"Pick you and what? Go up against your mom?! Fuck, Yoochun, like I can compete with that."
Tension tightens Junho's spine as the two figures on the balcony fall still.
"It's not a competition," Yoochun says after a loaded pause, voice no longer raised on a shout.
He reaches out a hand but Jaejoong quickly steps out of reach.
"Yeah, I know. I–That was a dumb thing to say, I didn't mean–I don't know what I meant–"
"Hyung." It comes out not much above a whisper. "There's no contest. Not with you."
Dazed, Junho looks over at Junsu.
He expects to see the same shock he feels mirrored on Junsu's face but instead, he sees...something else.
Waiting.
With his eyes closed, fists clenched by his side, Junsu waits to see what happens next.
He knew, Junho realizes, and it comes as even more of a shock.
He's known about this all along.
A sharp pang goes through him at the knowledge that Junsu keeps secrets from him over his other hyungs, a possibility he had never entertained.
Then he draws in a deep breath, telling himself it doesn't matter.
It's not a competition.
"You should go," Jaejoong tells Yoochun, voice shaky.
"I should stay." Yoochun's reply is resolute.
This time when he reaches out, he ignores Jaejoong's attempts to step away.
"I thought I wasn’t supposed to destroy your career by kissing any more men," Jaejoong murmurs, sounding part-cheeky, part-terrified.
There's a heartbeat of a pause and then
"I'm going to murder you, hyung," Yoochun says savagely, backing Jaejoong into the glass partition.
But because his actions are the opposite of murderous intent, Junho knows everything's going to be okay.
A barely audible sigh filters through, glass rattling a little as their silhouettes merge, and Junho raises both hands urgently.
"Right," he clears his throat. "That’s our cue."
"Yup," Junsu agrees, sounding a little strangled. "Leaving. Now."
"Happy?" Junho asks his brother in a low whisper, slipping into his jacket by the door.
Junsu sniffs. "Yeah, right," he says, trying to pull on both shoes at once, trying really hard to keep from smiling. "Now I have to worry about walking in on these two idiots everywhere in the studio."
"Well," Junho grins broadly, "we could knock."