coexist

once went by the name of jaejoongstretto. . . if anyone’s looking for this former writer of a ridiculous character, you can now find them on discord (disclosed below)

bad boys au, dbsk as gang members. generally triggering content all around in this verse, though not so much in this particular post

Peering down upon them, Jaejoong finds neither satisfaction nor fault as he lays an observing gaze over their actions. What he does feel though, as he always does when he watches them, is a fulfilling possession. They are his brothers. Lovers. Sons. Comrades.

His.

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A warm palm slides across and down his back, until its come to rest just above his hip, in the dip of his waist. The touch is welcome in its familiarity, in its confidence, and the way it strokes at his possessiveness.

Yoochun’s proximity is always soothing for Jaejoong. The man’s touch communicates with an echoing clarity of giving, of the submission to belong. It speaks of a willingness to be led with hands outstretched, to be molded in Jaejoong’s grip. Yoochun has thrived in Jaejoong’s presence, under his guidance, and that has always been the stitching to hold them together. Yoochun is his beautiful bloom, someone that Jaejoong never grows insecure over worries of loyalty. Even knowing about Yoochun’s desires for Yunho aren’t enough to truly rattle their bond, and while it might yet be too soon for them to reconcile, Jaejoong does not make Yoochun remove himself from Jaejoong’s presence. 

Though his eyes do narrow upon Changmin on the ground floor of the plaza below, his attention fixated on the one that struggles against Jaejoong’s possession. The hand tucked against his side starts to move, a gentle friction meant to ease the tension in Jaejoong’s body, or perhaps to shift his focus. It does succeed in the latter, gaining Jaejoong’s attention enough for him to hear the other’s deep voice, which is just another part of Yoochun that seems to be created for soothing.

“Junsu just checked in. He said it went clean.”

Jaejoong does not reply. There is no need to, not with the job properly finished. Perhaps if it was Changmin he would have asked for details, for clarification, but with Junsu, there really is no need.

Yoochun’s hand stops its attempts to massage out Jaejoong’s lack of responsiveness, and instead grips tight at his waist again. The kneading pressure of those fingers does ignite a warmth of interest in Jaejoong, but his jaw also tenses as the image of that hand gripping Yunho with intent comes to mind.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Yoochun says, voice gone quieter, though its all the more invasive in Jaejoong’s mind as its spoken nearer to his ear. There is a quiet heat of challenge in Yoochun’s voice, but not the kind of contest that is spoken for the sake of starting a fight. Its not really meant to anger Jaejoong, more to simply gain his reaction. Jaejoong’s lack of response is his way of communicating that he’ll need more given first.

“The way he wants to be good for you, I like that too.”

Turning, but not dislodging Yoochun’s touch as it slides against his torso, Jaejoong finally averts his attentions from the two men in the hotel plaza and gives it to Yoochun. With his back leaning into the railing now, Jaejoong can look over Yoochun’s features, he can observe the desire in Yoochun’s eyes, the honesty in his focus. Yoochun might be talking about Yunho, but he is thinking only of Jaejoong now, caring only for Jaejoong now. 

Reaching out, Jaejoong raises a hand to cup Yoochun’s jaw, pressing just hard enough for his soft finger pads to indent the other man’s skin. 

“I found him,” he reminds Yoochun, unblinking as he stares into the other’s eyes. “You remember that. I found him in that alley. Just like I found you.”

And it seems, that’s all he needs to do for Yoochun, the understanding finally melding into his gaze as he looks back unwaveringly. This wasn’t about sharing. This wasn’t about jealousy or infidelity. This is just Jaejoong wanting them to know who they belong to, who had made them into the men they are now. 

Its when he’d only just acquired an excess of digits in his checking account that he’d bought the bike. Its a vintage thing, something that any true motorist would likely contemplate murdering for if they had the chance at owning it. Jaejoong of course is a man who has an eye for aesthetics, and he sees the charm and artistry in the vehicle’s design, promptly following up his impulse to buy the machine since he’s gotten himself one hell of a hefty check recently. He immediately follows this purchase up with a vintage-inspired riding jacket, a pair of outlandishly expensive leather gloves so his finger’s won't suffer a chill when he’s speeding down the highway. A proper helmet of intimidating aura follows, and once he pairs the look with the right boots and pants, he’s all set for his first ride on the vehicle. 

The fact that he doesn’t actually know how to operate a motorcycle hardly a blip on his rationality scale. 

The first day is one in which you don’t want to be on the road anywhere near the residence of Kim Jaejoong, the loud bike rumbling between stalls and skids as he just barely keeps himself from a likely equally expensive trip to the ER. With no small amount of luck and an equal helping of reckless perseverance, Jaejoong’s able to finally handle the sleek beast well enough to keep up with that overall image he’s been attempting to achieve. As time passes, he becomes a veteran by his own means, handling the motorcycle with growing precision each day. Although, despite his many close calls, its not until he’s actually begun to truly dwindle those past earnings does he foul up his handling. 

So often, Jaejoong feels this urge, one that he can’t bring himself to suppress. Today, the sight of the swings in a neighborhood park brought it on, and, unable to restrain himself, the artist lopes into a jog towards the thing of childhood that was calling him. Luckily, there weren’t any parents around with their children at this early evening hour, therefore there wouldn’t be anyone for him to startle when they looked up to find a thirty year old taking up one of the available swings. 

Playing was such a foreign concept to so many adults, something to be left behind with a rose colored youth in favor of their grown up images. Jaejoong was different though, and he can’t help the wry smile that slips over his lips as he watches his feet pushing along the sandy ground below him, sending him into a gentle pendulum motion. Indulging himself in this felt good, and perhaps he could be counted as unusual, but there wasn’t much of anything that could convince him to stop acting on this simple desire to let himself feel alive. 

He is a bit startled when he suddenly feels Jaejoong hugging him from behind. he grins letting the other lean their weight onto him. Happy to feel their warmth and body. He moves a bit to the beat still finally giving the headphones back. He chuckles at their remark and nods. He notices the jealous looks of some and grins, finally turning to face them he wraps an arm around their waist. “Yeah you looked like you were having a great time too.”

He lightly rock once into the hug when Micky turns around to change the embrace from one sided to reciprocated. Feeling warmed through all his limbs from sharing drinks and laughs, he relishes in hugging someone familiar to him after interacting with so many people he’d consider more like acquaintances, or even strangers. Not that those people being less of a close friend to Jaejoong diminished the importance of their smiles and strokes of hands, but there was something uniquely reaffirming about having familiar arms around his body, and a familiar voice in his ear that comforted Jaejoong to a level those other things couldn’t reach. He needed both in his life, the acceptance and attention from those less known to him, and the reassuring nearness of those he’d become closer to. Having them both in one night was making Jaejoong a little greedy though, wanting to keep the good feeling the evening had provided going as long as he could. 

There was a reason Jaejoong never made much of an impression in the school’s theater productions during his student days. He might have been willing to do just about anything for a laugh, would have happily acted the bumbling idiot or the love sick fool to entertain people, but he was often far too candid to pull off an act thoroughly. His inability to hold up any kind of consistent pokerface could be a hardship at times, as in this moment when he’d really like to just turn on his heel and (run) briskly walk away from this confrontation. 

Now stuck like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, Jaejoong spends a long moment just gaping at the equally tattooed man, who is appropriately irritated by Jaejoong’s stupidity. Worse though is that Jaejoong thinks he recognizes this guy, after all, he was part of the body art community, and Jaejoong liked to check out others’ styles. It doesn’t seem that the recognition is a mutual thing though, leaving Jaejoong stammering in uncertainty. 

“There’s nothing wrong with keeping them around. And yeah it wouldn’t be smart to piss off your mom. I actually think it’s cute you have them all over.” She nods with a smile, suddenly having the urge to hang up photos of her family around her home. “And just so you know I won’t ever forget that crazy Yugioh-is hairstyle.”

“. . .I’m not, not really. . .” he says in a mutter that doesn’t sound too terribly certain when he replies to her inquiry about his vanity. Although vanity isn’t the best term likely, as it would probably connote a sense of confidence about his looks, when in reality, they were often a source of never ending anxiety when he was so fussy about trying to look his best. Even though her answer about the condition of his hairstyle isn’t the resounding affirmative he was looking for, he assumes its good enough, that she would have told him if there was something glaringly wrong to point out. 

“Its not supposed to be doing anything, but you’d tell me if it was all messy in some way right? I can’t see it for myself so I needed to ask you,” Jaejoong tells Chloe while threading his fingers along the back of his neck again and turning around to face her now, though he stays kneeling beside the chair. Now its his turn to squint his eyes at the other, as if to tell her he isn’t on board with making fun of his hairstyle (the thing is though he doesn’t mind it much, as he just enjoys her attention).