Yunho

"Ohmygod! He's here!"

"Look how late he is…I wonder who's bed he woke up in this morning…""That's so disgusting! Whoring himself around like that!

"Look at him! He thinks he's a god or something…"

"Kim Jaejoong…He's so in love with himself…"

He was so gorgeous, the second he walked through the door. I always heard his name: Kim Jaejoong.

But it was always accompanied with something like slut, whore, or beautiful. He didn't look like a whore at all though. His eyes were pure black, mirroring the darkness of a well. They were so striking, with their dark and long eyelashes. The inky black hair that framed his slim-jawed contour was so soft-looking, and made his ivory skin unbearably luminescent.

I wondered how long he would stay that beautiful, and how long he had been that beautiful. It seemed everyone thought badly of him, but I grew to love the way he ignored all of that. Jaejoong was stunning, no matter how cruel he could be.

"Settle down class, this is Kim Jaejoong. He's transferring into the class for the rest of the year. Please welcome him warmly." Mr. Suzuki said. The look of lust in his eyes as he looked at the boy was unbearable. I felt sick. Most of the class glared at Jaejoong with jealousy or want. He ignored them innocently, with a slightly haughty air. The kid was only 14, yet strangely, everyone knew him (but me).

As the week of the Japanese class dragged on, I couldn't help staring at him occasionally too. He was so beautiful, it was inhuman.

"Yunho, would you help me grade these papers? You have better Japanese than me, and its my language!" he laughed. I smiled, and accepted. I'd rather be at school any day than in my empty home.

The grades so far weren't too bad, then I stumbled across a paper that burned when I touched it. It was Jaejoong's. I looked at the work, obviously not his own, then the bottom corner of the last page, where in cute, childish handwriting was a note that belonged to the pale boy,

Akira,

Did you honestly think I needed you? Ha. You make me laugh. Last weekend was fun though. I hope I didn't leave you wanting more . . .

There was an adorable little face at the end that made me twitch. He slept with the Japanese teacher?

"Here." I said, and handed Mr. Suzuki the papers.

His face drained of color quickly.

"Yunho, please. I-"

"I won't say anything if that's what you're worried about."

The school board would fire him in a heartbeat if they heard about that. It wasn't my business though, so why should I care?

"T-thank you so much!" he said relieved.

"But can I ask you something? What kind of kid is he?"

The Japanese teacher looked at me straight and shook his head slightly.

"I don't really know. But he's dangerous Yunho. I couldn't resist him. No one can…"

We sat in silence, while correcting a few more papers.

"I should go home. My parents will be worried."

He nodded as I grabbed my bag and pushed in the chair I'd just occupied seconds before.

"I won't say anything."

"I know. You're an amazing student Yunho. Thank you so much for helping me out." he said with a smile. I wasn't sure if he was talking about the papers, but I said it was no problem anyways, and went home.

"Jaejoong!" I gasped as I felt his stone cold hands slid into my pants. He smirked and pushed his tongue past my lips. His mouth was deliciously sweet. I grabbed him everywhere I could reach and squeezed his small butt.

"Mmm…" he moaned into my mouth. We pulled apart in a few minutes, and before I knew it, he was unzipping my pants. I wanted to tell him to stop, that we were in the gym locker rooms, but I couldn't get it out. His swollen lips felt hot against my hardness. His mouth felt so good. I pushed my hips forward a little and he squeezed his eyes shut. Jaejoong's hot mouth was so small, compared to my cock. I ran my fingers through his freakishly soft black hair and moaned loudly. He sucked hard, and in a few minutes I came into his mouth. He swallowed most of it, then came up to my face, and kissed me. I could taste myself in his mouth, but it was Kim fucking Jaejoong, so who was I to complain?

That next day, it hurt to see him. Arrogant as ever, completely neglecting the fact that he'd been moaning and screaming underneath me just last night. I looked at the board and copied down the characters which meanings I'd long since known. Why must he torture me so much, without even trying in the slightest bit?

"Jaejoong!" I hear someone say.

Those striking eyes meet those of my second period classmates.

I watch curiously, as he takes Jaejoong around to the deserted garden in the back of the school.

Jaejoong lies down on his back and stares up at the sky, while Choi Seunghyun pulls Jaejoong's shirt up enough to reveal his seductive belly rings. I stared at them as if it were the first time I saw them.

"Jaejoong?"

"What."

"Are you okay? You usually like it when I do that…"

He swallowed his saliva as he licked Jaejoong's navel. His hands looked so big, easily able to snap the thin body in two. Jaejoong still gazed up at the vast sky, its ocean colors stretching endlessly out above them.

"Just keep going. I want you to fuck me, Seunghyun. As hard as you can. Break my body if you have to."

The older male licked his lips hungrily. Seunghyun's lust grew bigger every second. For once, Jaejoong wasn't playing hard-to-get. For once he could do whatever he wanted to the willowy, helpless body lying in front of him.

"As you wish, babe…"

I felt sick as I turned away, and walked home briskly.

Jaejoong is no ones. No one deserved him. He's so isolated, and perfect. You had to be a complete moron to think you were special to him just because he yelled out your name in ecstasy.

I wasn't an idiot, but just like all the others, I was left wanting more as well.

It's been 12 weeks of Jaejoong-less foreign language classes. I had heard about his car accident from my father; He had been the doctor shoving metal rods into his broken leg, putting a brace around his crushed ribs, stitching up the gaping wounds from which shards of glass previously protruded, and telling the shocked boy that his mother died protecting him. He said Jaejoong didn't cry. I wondered what that would have looked like though, since he was so unfathomable.

"Is he okay?" I asked, eating my fish and rice happily, but slightly bitter. We rarely ate together.

"Yes. But he suffered a horrible case of memory loss. He keeps forgetting things. Every 5 minutes he asked us what his name was, or what happened. Such a shame he's so…young…"

I pushed the food on my plate around. Did my dad think Jaejoong was beautiful too? I lost my appetite at that thought.

I held the cold cup in my hands, staring at the still swirling, non-dissolved pieces of chocolate. I took a large amount in my mouth and swallowed it in one gulp. Was it odd for someone my age to love chocolate milk? I made my way through the kitchen of the vacant house, quietly for some reason, and sat on the comfortable white-leather sofa. The neighborhood we just moved to wasn't rich, but it wasn't at all poor. My parents weren't too extravagant, since they were rarely home. But I had my own giant room and a pool, so why should I care?

I watched the flat screen HDTV with the volume fairly low for about an hour when it started again. The yelling. I wasn't sure which neighbor it came from, but if they thought they were being surreptitious about it, man were they wrong.

Jaejoong

I studied the clock for a good 3 minutes before willing myself to understand that my father would be home any second. I took a shaky breath and fixed the perfectly set plates on the table as the front door opened and shut with a soft thump.

"Dinner ready?" he grunted out after hanging his coat.

"Yes." I said as politely as I could. I learned last summer not to reply with a nod. That would earn me a smack, plus a lecture on how to open my mouth when he wanted.

'Is there something wrong with your voice boy?'

'No sir.' I squeaked out. Three bruises and one 'well earned' slap later, I left for my room in near-tears.

He sat down and observed everything carefully. This never failed to make me nervous. Nothing on the table was the same as it was yesterday, I'd hoped at least. I have a bad memory, especially when it comes to little thing like this.

"How was your day today?" he asked, picking up his fork and eating a good amount of the Japanese Styled rice. Some days he would do this, but each time I accepted happily. I really didn't want to piss him off.

"Good." I said softly, sitting down and starting my meal as well. I was 14 when my mother died. Last year - January to be exact. I just turned 15 this Thursday, but in the year I've been recovering from my accident, I learned only a few things, like never cook the same thing 2 days in a row. That had turned out bad the first time it happened. Or pepper. He hated peppers, I on the other hand, loved them. But the biggest mistake I could've possibly made, I did. Because when he comes home I am to smile. And today I didn't.

"Really boy? You don't look too happy. Is it because I'm home?" There was a 5 second pause in which I tried to open my mouth and say no, but nothing came out. I guess its because I'm not happy. "After I work so goddamn hard for you!" he yelled that last bit. I cringed back into my seat. Here we go again.

But I didn't know, that had I not been in that car accident, I would have laughed, and said 'You don't work for me you selfish pig! You work to make enough money to buy a few drinks every night of the week!'

Now I'm different; all of my arrogance slammed clean out of me, and replaced with fear.

3rd Person

Yunho woke up at 6:00 a.m., so by the time he went to school there was a good 20 minutes before class started. He saw the usual, kids dealing at the side of the school none too quietly, and in public too. He scoffed. Deciding it was too early to even care about it, he bought a small breakfast from the café near the school and ate it on the way to class. The day passed without mishap or malfunction, and he boredly took notes on what his teachers lectured about though he really didn't need too. The 17 year-old could have slept through the classes and still passed with top grades. High school was such a waste of time, hardly a challenge. Soon he'd be in college where he could be challenged, and face those challenges with hard work. Everyone in the Jeong family was involved in the law. If they weren't Korea's top doctors, they were lawyers, policemen and various other forms. He was expected before he even got into middle school to be a doctor - his genius was proof of it he was always told, and he never argued it. The school's he'd be applying for after winter break would be doctoral schools. The top in the country already laid out in his mind assessing the pros and cons of each to make his choice.

Someone commented next to him that he was happy it was Friday. Friday, another beginning to a weekend he'd rather stay in the house and very much alone. With his first glance at the clock, he noted that it was nearly time for sixth period to end. How fast the day passed by when you're not waiting for it to end. Gym was next, he noted with mixed feelings. The last class of the day, yes. A chance to get a work out, yes. But the day was still horribly hot outside, which meant the gym was going to be brutal. The school authorities claimed the large room was air conditioned, but no one believed them. How could they, as the second he walked in he was met with a wave of heat and the smell of sweaty bodies from the previous classes? Entering the locker room, he went to his own four rows down and began changing into his gym clothes. The familiar smell of sweet vanilla reached his nose, and he tensed. Yunho turned as casually as possible, and couldn't believe what he saw. Kim…Jaejoong. He's back?

Jaejoong

I glanced at my schedule, and then my watch. It was already 6th period, but I needed to go to school. They sent e-mails for absence, and I flinched at the thought of my father getting one. If I went to school now, would they excuse me for the rest of the day? And not send that stupid message?

Gym couldn't possibly be that bad, so I set out on my walk to school. It took a good 30 minutes to get to school without a car. The stitch in my side hurt, as well as the leg I had broke, but I didn't want to give my father another reason to hit me. Walking into the main office was in a word- uncomfortable. Everyone, even the random parent or two was staring at me. I tried ignoring them and made my way to the front desk. I pulled at the ends of my long shirt sleeves nervously.

"M-may I help you Mister Kim?" a woman asked me. It'd been a year since I was in school. How did she even remember my name? I didn't respond, not really knowing how to, so I handed her the doctors note explaining my leave.

"Here." She said with a smile.

"Thanks." I said softly.

Her eyes shone slightly with surprise and I timidly took the pass. The second I closed the door they all started talking.

" How rude.

The hallways were empty, and that made me nervous. I walked fast to the gym and looked at the pass. I jumped when the bell rang and students filed out of the classrooms. I stumbled back with a yelp, as the door to the gym swung open and almost hit me. I walked inside, and looked around for the gym teacher. "Kim!" I cringed at the loudness of the voice, and its likeness to my father's. The tall and broad teacher made his way over to me, his large presence looming over my small frame.

"You have a note? Been gone half this year and last!" he said patting me in the arm roughly, obviously not meaning to. I doubted I was in any way athletic before my accident, so I wondered why he was being so nice.

"H-here." I said, my voice even more quiet in the noisy gym. I gave him the note from my doctor, who said I'd known his son (I have no idea what his son even looks like…hopefully not like him. shudder). He smiled at me and gave me a new locker number.

"If you don't feel like joining in today, just see me after class, okay?" he said.

"Alright." I said, following him to his office. He handed me a lock and I went to go put the uniform he gave me in there.

Yunho

"Jaejoong?"

He looked up, my eyes meeting gentle onyx black ones.

"Yes. W-who are you?" I blinked, but remembered what my dad said about his memory.

"Jeong Yunho." I smiled and held out my hand. He looked timid to take it, but did. He pulled at his questionably long sleeves. It was hot. Besides, even when it was cold, Jaejoong was known to wear sleeveless shirts.

"I guess you already know me." he said softly. That crash must have gotten him hard. In the rare moments Jaejoong talked it was loud, obnoxious or deceivingly innocent.

Jaejoong

Jeong Yunho. Who is this to me? He seemed kind though, and I regretted letting him walk away. After the last bell rang, I was about to knock on the door to the teachers office, and he opened it and he smiled. "Come in." he said and stood to the side. I didn't know what to do, so I just sat in the vacant chair in front of his desk. It was a small room, and very cluttered. The beige walls were suffocatingly like the ones at the hospital. "It says on here that you lost your memory, Jaejoong." he said looking over the paper. I swallowed hard. Where was this getting at? "Yes."

He closed the door and put the note on his already paper covered desk, and putting his hand on my shoulder. I flinched as memories ran through my head painfully.

"Jaejoong. You're a student."

"I know you want me Coach…"

My lips pressed against his, and this next day, his fingers pressed 1-0-0 into my semester grade.

I cringed as his fingers ran across my jaw line.

"N-no. I'm not like that anymore." I whispered. He smiled.

"I love it when you play hard to get…"

"I'm sorry, Hyung. But I don't do things like that with teachers." A smile spread across my lips as I lifted my shirt up slightly, scratching a small spot on my stomach that hadn't itched at all. He stared at my belly rings and bit his lip. I could tell he was remembering the last semester.

"I'll give you another 100..." He said, grabbing my hips. What a pig, I'm only 14. Well, I guess that never stopped men from emptying out their wallets for me before, and it didn't bother me at all to let them taste me for a night or two. Men and women have wanted me since I was twelve.

"Fine. I hope you're willing to come and get me though. I never spread my legs for anyone." I said my words carefully like a slut, tilting my head slightly upwards in an arrogant manner.

"I'm not playing anything!" I said frightened, and jumped up abruptly.

"If you don't leave me alone, I'll-I'll call the cops!"

He stared at me. "You were serious?"

I shook slightly. "Uhmm, yes?"

"I'm sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" he said lustfully. I was really creeped out now.

"I was absent for the first 6 classes. Is there anyway you can excuse me?" I asked hopefully, backed up against the wall, with my hands wrapped around my waist.

He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head and he kissed my hair.

"If you really want me to. But it'll cost you…"

I twitched, and pushed him.

"Forget it then! You pig!" I said, and ran out the room, and prayed that I'd get to my father's computer before they sent it. It would've worked perfectly, had he not checked it on his phone every few hours.

I hated storms. I wonder if the JaejoongSlut hated them too? The thunder was loud when I walked home. I didn't feel like running, but the omniscient sky felt like foreshadow for tonight's events. I walked a bit more quickly.

I tore open the door and shut it with a bang. The quietness of the house was unsettling. I paced back and forth in front of the loading screen of my dad's desktop computer, quickly clicking the internet icon and logging into his account.

Login ID:

Password:

Jaejoon… his password. I remembered asking him once why he didn't put 'Jaejoong' instead of 'Jaejoon'

"It's what your original name was. Han Jaejoon."

He had said. But it never made sense to me. How could my name be Han Jaejoon?

I hastily opened the message reading: Yonsei Academy: Excused Absence

So the pervert had been nice to me? Well, it didn't matter if he'd already seen it. I marked the message as unread and logged out, turning the computer off when the page refreshed. It was 6:41. I should start cooking.

He said he loved the stew, and actually believed me when I explained the e-mail.

"Can you explain the message I got from your school today?" he said, his voice with a bordering edge of anger. I trusted he just skimmed the letter and winged it anyways.

"It was just an excused absence message for the days I've missed this year." I didn't pitch my voice to high, or make it too shaky, but I kept the softness to my voice that the accident brought. That much I couldn't help.

"Oh." He'd said. I let out a low sigh of relief and kept my eyes on my dinner. Thank…whoever helped me out there…because, is there even a God?

Definite TBC