Something glitters ahead of him. Jaejoong squints through the darkness and stares.
Vick pulls at his leash, growling.
“No Vick,” Jaejoong whispers. He tugs Vick towards the light, towards the sudden billowing of smoke mushrooming straight for them.
Ahead of him lays an odd metal structure, similar to an airplane or a rocket.
“It’s a dick,” Jaejoong gasps.
But the phallic spaceship is bent in half, its nose having met the ground at impossible speeds and crushed into a wrinkle. One of its wings (balls, Jaejoong thinks helpfully) is completely crumpled.
Smoke rises from somewhere behind the entire ship. Then, a bright white light slowly emanates from the ship, creating a rectangle shaped opening as the metal in the middle falls away.
Jaejoong squints, heart pounding.
A figure appears in the light, staggering off the ship as more smoke and more soot billows out of the ship.
Vick barks and pulls at his leash.
“Awr9ureafn,” the figure says, coming into view.
Long dark hair falls into his (flawless, Jaejoong adds) face as he staggers off the ship. His lips curve into a grimace as he stumbles, nearly loses his footing. The odd glittery spandex he’s wearing accentuates his slenderness; his thin legs and thin wrists and thin shoulders and he is beautiful.
And holy fuck, he’s wearing eyeliner.
The man suddenly tilts forward.
Jaejoong runs towards him, letting go of the leash.
Vick takes off.
“Ijdfa;iwj,” the stranger says. He coughs and sputters, as though he’s not quite ready to breathe. “Orja’epoaj.”
Jaejoong struggles to pull the man into a sitting position; the man is heavier than he looks and the spandex is really slippery. He gets glitter on himself.
“Hang on,” Jaejoong says. “I’ll call for help.”
“Ppfaoefj,” the man coughs. Blood drips from his forehead. It sounds like he’s struggling to breathe, as though he can’t get enough air.
Jaejoong fumbles for his phone, hands shaking hard enough to cause an earthquake. He presses “2” on his speed dial and promptly drops it as the man sidles closer.
“Soriu;oe9w,” the man says suddenly and his hands cup Jaejoong’s face. Before Jaejoong can say anything else, the man presses his lips against Jaejoong’s, opens his mouth, and --
-- and Jaejoong can feel something stirring inside him, something growling to come forth to claim this man, something primal and something beautiful -- something --
The man slumps, unconscious.
“Jaejoongie?” a tinny voice calls from the grass.
Jaejoong reaches for his phone, presses it against his ear. He can feel the blood thumping in them, can hear it as though it were screaming to the world.
He takes a breath.
“Yunho-yah, I need some help.”
Yunho shows up at Jaejoong’s apartment, one hand clasped tightly around Vick’s leash, and in turn, Vick.
Vick barks. He looks less like he’s going to run off.
Probably because he loves Yunho, Jaejoong thinks sulkily.
“Thank you, Yunho-yah,” Jaejoong says, taking the leash.
“He showed up in front of my apartment,” Yunho explains. “So it wasn’t that hard.”
Jaejoong’s eyes narrow at Vick.
“But what’s going on?” Yunho says. Jaejoong waves him and Vick in, but Yunho shakes his head. “You found -- an alien?”
“Dick spaceship and everything,” Jaejoong says. Vick runs off into Jaejoong’s bedroom. Or the bathroom. Whichever. “You wanna see?”
“No, it’s too late for this,” he says. “I’m only here to return Vick. Call me if mystery alien guy wakes up and tries to attack you.”
Jaejoong rolls his eyes, waves Yunho off, and bids him good night. He’s sure that Yunho only thinks Jaejoong’s telling him wild stories again.
Then, he turns to face his bedroom. Vick had already piled the blankets into a nest, curling up at the feet of the bed.
The alien nuzzles one of Jaejoong’s pillows, a designer brand that he had had to have when he found out that his favorite idol also had, and usually Jaejoong would immediately pull said pillow away, but the alien was so adorable and so cute and hot that Jaejoong couldn’t bring himself to.
Besides it’s not like he was drooling over them.
Jaejoong kneels next to the bed, stares at the alien. He touches his lips, remembers the kiss, and then stares in wonder at the alien’s lips and his smudge-proof eyeliner.
“What did you say to me, Alien-ssi?”
Jaejoong wakes with a kink in his neck. He groans; though the couch had looked comfortable, it was actually the equivalent of sleeping in a tiny sandbox laden with semi-comfortable wood chips.
A peek in his bedrooms tells him that Alien-ssi is still passed out so Jaejoong showers and then makes his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
He talks to Yunho while scrambling some eggs, mentions that Alien-ssi is really beautiful, but does not disclose the kiss, and then asks Yunho if he’d like to come over for breakfast.
Yunho’s sigh is audible even from the other side of the line.
“Can’t, Jaejoongie,” he says. “One of my clients wants to meet in…” there’s static and then: “in like ten minutes -- shit, I’m late --”
“I gotta go; keep me posted about your alien situation.”
Jaejoong murmurs good bye and good luck and hangs up.
He’s in the middle of pouring out a hot cup of coffee when someone sneaks behind him, pressing something hard against the small of his back. He stiffens.
“Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me…” Jaejoong says, slowly raising his hands.
He turns around.
Alien-ssi has a high-tech looking gun pointed at him and was -- Jaejoong notes with some appreciation -- looking very fine indeed. The scraps and cuts that Jaejoong had helped patched up before passing out on the couch had disappeared. Even the slight limp that Alien-ssi had was gone. And the eyeliner was still fucking perfect.
“Awjaojda02,” Alien-ssi says. “20faj;dasfopey3.”
“I have no fucking clue what you’re saying,” he says. “It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you anyway. I fucking helped you!”
Alien-ssi brandishes the gun in his face, growling. “02kjfadpoe!”
Jaejoong eyes the gun; it’s small and compact and there’s weird blue lights on it, but then he remembers that it’s pointed against him and glares.
Alien-ssi shakes his head, mutters something inaudible under his breath. Not that it mattered. He looks everywhere, looks at the stove, at the ceiling, at the ground. As though he were trying to remember something. Finally, he looks at Jaejoong and says, after a long pause, “Where am I?”
Jaejoong blinks in surprise. Did he just…? Was he speaking in... ? And holy shit that voice.
“You’re lucky I speak Japanese,” Jaejoong replies. “You’re in my apartment.”
Alien-ssi shoots him a mildly annoyed glare.
“What do you want?”
Jaejoong rolls his eyes. He’s done that too many times today already and if he has to do it again, he mind as well --
Alien-ssi waves the gun again, reminding him to speak.
“Nothing,” Jaejoong says. Then, he thinks back to the moment before Alien-ssi collapsed. “Why did you kiss me?”
Another annoyed glance.
“Kiss? It was an exchange of gne;oadj maieo9qhd,” Alien-ssi explains. “I’m not quite used to the oxygen levels here so moa;dfh moa;dfh contact was the easiest way for my b0ahdlay to adapt.”
Jaejoong frowns. “What?”
Alien-ssi lets out a huff of frustration, but lowers the gun.
Jaejoong lowers his arms.
After a long silence where Alien-ssi seems to carefully pick out the right words, he repeats the explanation.
“It was an exchange of genetic material and the method of mouth-to-mouth contact was the easiest way for my body to adapt.”
Something in Jaejoong curls upon itself unpleasantly. He tries to grin, fails, so he turns back to the coffee. It’s lukewarm.
Alien-ssi peers over Jaejoong’s shoulder in interest.
Jaejoong slides a plate of scrambled eggs and toast to Alien-ssi and then takes his own. They sit across from each other, a TV set in front of them. The cushions beneath Jaejoong’s legs lean against him, comforting.
Vick stuffs his face with dog food.
Alien-ssi does the same, but with eggs and toast and bacon.
Slightly grossed out and slightly endeared, Jaejoong looks away and turns on the TV.
After a few minutes of channel surfing through crime shows and Korean news and music shows, Alien-ssi looks up.
“What language is this?”
Jaejoong pauses and looks at Alien-ssi.
“Korean. We’re in South Korea.”
Alien-ssi pauses as if to assess his internal world map. Then, as though he located South Korea on his mind map, he nods.
“I’ve never heard of South Korea.”
Jaejoong is a little insulted.
“Whatever Alien-ssi,” Jaejoong mutters in Korean and stabs his eggs.
To his horror, Alien-ssi repeats after him: “‘Whatever Alien-ssi.’ What does that mean?”
“I… what do I call you anyway?” Jaejoong says instead.
“6jfa00jf;a2,” he responds.
“That’s a little difficult for me to say.”
“Oh… you can call me Yoochun then.”
Jaejoong gives him a peculiar glance. “That’s a Korean name,” he unnecessarily points out.
Yoochun shrugs. “We’re in South Korea.” Then, he leans forward. “Say something in Korean. I want to learn.”
Feeling like an ass, Jaejoong bites out, “something.”
“Something,” Yoochun carefully enunciates. “How do I say your name?”
Yoochun stares. “Jaejoong,” he intones, very slowly, very carefully.
Something flops in Jaejoong.
“I want to see my ship,” Yoochun says.
Jaejoong hands him a pile of clothes. “Change,” he demands, pushing alien-man back into his bedroom.
“Because you look like you ran away from the circus in that,” Jaejoong explains, “or that you’re trying to swim without water.”
He brushes glitter onto his pants.
Yoochun frowns, but nods. “Can you say that in Korean?”
Jaejoong repeats it in Korean and then slams the doors shut.
Ten minutes later, they’re out the door, dragging a reluctant Vick along.
“What’s what?” Yoochun says in Korean. He points to a woman walking her tiny poodle.
Yoochun looks bewildered. He points to Vick.
“Also a dog.”
Yoochun points to a couple walking beside their bulldog.
“Is that also a dog?” Yoochun says very slowly. He points to a cat.
Jaejoong laughs, a hand automatically coming to rest on Yoochun’s shoulder.
For some reason, Yoochun turns red, and looks away.
When they get to the clearing where Yoochun had crash landed, there’s nothing there. For a moment, Jaejoong thinks he’s dreamed this, everything. Dreamed that he had been walking Vick and happened across a beautiful man-alien and his crashed phallic shaped spaceship. Dreamed that the kiss had never happened. Dreamed that he had taken an alien home --
Yoochun presses something on his wrist and the spaceship flickers into view.
“Do you have like an invisibility booster or something?” he asks, reaching for the glittery bracelet adorning Yoochun’s wrist.
Yoochun furrows his eyebrows and Jaejoong can’t tell if it’s because of the physical contact or the Korean but he doesn’t really care because the way Yoochun looks is absolutely fucking adorable.
“There’s a human-view shield,” Yoochun explains. “It creates a filter or a protective layer to prevent humans from seeing the ship.”
Jaejoong watches as Yoochun slides out of his grasps and walks right up to the ship, cooing over the broken parts and the missing edges. And he’s a little entranced by the way Yoochun grazes his hands along its metal side.
A door appears from the side of the ship.
“Want to come in?”
“Hell yes,” Jaejoong says.
The hallways in the ship are dark; a result of the lack of anything running through the system. But as Yoochun presses the palm of his hand against a small square embedded on the wall near the doorway blue light travels out of the sides of the box and throughout the hallway, lighting everything on.
The ship slowly comes to life.
Yoochun leads the way towards the cockpit.
Along the way, Jaejoong gapes at the array of shiny technological stuff hanging around the walls and the ceiling and the floors -- and just everywhere. Vick barks every so often to remind Jaejoong that he’s still there but even then, he’s quiet as though he knows he’s in some sort of alien dick-shaped spaceship that could probably take him away from home, away from everything he’s ever known.
Jaejoong touches everything. He plays with the knobs and the nuts and bolts and half the time, Yoochun has to wretch his hand away from random levers and buttons even though that big red button is just screaming to be pressed.
They make their way across a narrow hallway, past some suspicious-looking doors, and through a pair of metal doors that seem to steam as they open.
Yoochun seems to take up his position as alien and pilot right away, heading straight for the main controls.
Jaejoong watches as the alien types furiously on a foreign-looking keyboard. Then, a hologram flickers into existence, hovering right above Yoochun’s hands. It’s a bunch of symbols and numbers with some random letters from various alphabets smattered throughout. Jaejoong tugs Vick over to the only other seat in the cockpit -- a little area about the same size as the space Yoochun’s pilot seat took up with the same controls and the same buttons.
“Don’t touch,” Yoochun says.
Jaejoong rolls his eyes.
After a few seconds of peering curiously at the keyboards and at the pilot controls and at the ceiling and then playing with Vick, Jaejoong gets bored. He leans back into the chair and pulls out his phone, opening up the camera app.
“How’d you crash anyway?” he asks.
He takes a picture of Yoochun’s slightly annoyed face just as the alien looks up.
Yoochun’s learning Korean pretty fast, so Jaejoong doesn’t bother translating.
“My best friend, or well, my co-pilot was supposed to be here,” Yoochun rolls his eyes. “But he ran off with his forever love and disappeared in the galaxies.”
Yoochun taps the keys impatiently. “You can’t really go too far without two pilots because this ship is made for two so it’s unsteady if there’s only one pilot,” he continues. “But I had to return home for something before I crashed.”
“So what are you going to do.”
“I’m sending an S.O.S.?”
“Aliens have an S.O.S.?”
“Well, that’s the best translation,” Yoochun says. “It’s more like !!!!!!!!”
Jaejoong takes another picture of Yoochun.
Jaejoong sits up.
“Shit,” he curses. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Yoochun looks up from the controls, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What is it?”
“I’m late,” Jaejoong explains and doesn’t explain at the same time. He gets up, tugs Vick upright from his nearly-falling-asleep position, and begins to head back out of the ship.
He stops, turns back to Yoochun.
“Are you staying here?”
Yoochun frowns, looks adorably confused, but nods. “I have much to do. Where are you going?”
Jaejoong smiles, relieved. “I have work.” He moves closer to the alien, a little hypnotized by how adorable Yoochun’s pout is. Without thinking, he slips his phone into Yoochun’s (his, Jaejoong thinks) left pocket.
He gives Yoochun a squeeze on the wrist.
“I’ll be back,” he says.
“Better,” Yoochun says.
Yunho gives Jaejoong an unimpressed look when he gets to the restaurant fifteen minutes late (but only because he had to drop Vick off at the apartment). But because Yunho’s a reallyreally nice boss and a great friend, he says nothing and points only to the kitchen.
Jaejoong ducks his head as he heads to the locker room to change.
Prep begins lethargically slow, methodical chopping and cutting and dicing. Time ticks on by and the pace of the kitchen staff begins to pick up as well. The dinner rush passes by in a flurry of motion; Jaejoong’s running around ordering his sous chef around and making sure all of the dishes are cooked to perfection; making sure that nothing leaves the kitchen cold that’s supposed to be hot and lukewarm that’s supposed to be cold.
As the hours slide into the next, the flurry of customers slowly die down. At the end of the night, Yunho rounds them all up, practically bursting with pride.
“You all did great tonight,” he says and rolls into a well-practiced and well-said congratulatory speech about yet another perfect night and how proud he was to be their restaurant manager.
It’s late by the time the restaurant closes, but as soon as Jaejoong is free, he heads straight to Yunho, one hand outreach towards him.
“Phone,” he says. He feels sweaty and gross still stuck in his chef’s uniform, but that will be taken cared of later.
Yunho frowns but takes out his phone.
Jaejoong ignores him, dials his own number, and taps his foot while he listens. For a brief moment, he wonders if Yoochun knows how to use a phone, knows how to answer, and he wonders if maybe a quick tutorial would have been helpful. And then he wonders if Yoochun had left already, wonders if maybe his S.O.S. had been found and he was already on his way home -- he swallows a lump forming in his throat and hands the phone back to Yunho.
He shakes his head.
“I gotta go,” Jaejoong mutters.
“Don’t be late next time,” he says. “And come over sometime soon, okay? We haven’t met up in a while.”
Jaejoong gives him a grin as he runs out the door, only stopping to grab the clothes he was wearing earlier that day.
For a brief moment, Jaejoong fears that he had lost the spaceship. He wanders around the park, eyes squinting through the darkness and because he had no phone, there was barely any light to show the way. And then he wonders if maybe only Yoochun can activate the thingy that allowed people to see the ship so when Jaejoong had stepped off --
He curses himself.
Jaejoong turns, thinks about heading back home, but something glitters in between two trees -- catching his eye. And he’s reminded of yesterday night, of finding Yoochun. He heads there.
And he lets out a breath when he realizes he can’t see anything but a clear, glittering outline of the phallic spaceship.
Yoochun’s beautiful face pops into view, seemingly out of nowhere. It’s a little disconcerting to see a disembodied head -- especially Yoochun’s -- in the middle of the darkness.
“Yoochun,” Jaejoong says. “Gonna let me in?”
Yoochun grins. “Of course,” he says. “You said you’d be back.”
“What’s home like?” Jaejoong asks. He knocks back another shot and stuffs a lettuce-meat wrap in his mouth.
Yoochun chews, then pauses.
“You have to realize,” he says. “There are about half a million planets out there and that Earth is one of the few that still don’t know life beyond exists.”
Jaejoong shrugs. “We’re a little bit slow,” he says.
Yoochun grins at that jab.
“My home planet… it’s beautiful. Dry, but beautiful. We have plenty of vegetation and --”
Jaejoong waves this explanation aside. “Okay, but what’s it like?”
Yoochun takes the shot of soju that Jaejoong pours for him and Jaejoong is mildly impressed that the alien doesn’t react.
“It’s home,” Yoochun says simply, like Jaejoong would know. “My mom would always make my brother and I come home for dinner every week even if we’re busy -- she’d somehow make us come anyway.”
He grins at what Jaejoong guesses is a memory.
“You have a brother?”
Yoochun nods. “Younger.”
“Is he as cute as you?”
Jaejoong means it as a joke, but it comes out more serious than planned. Yoochun stops and stares.
“Definitely not,” Yoochun says and leans forward.
Jaejoong can feel Yoochun’s breath against his. Their lips almost touch.
And then Jaejoong knocks over a bottle of soju into his lap, spilling its contents everywhere between him and Yoochun backs away, the incident forgotten.
They develop a routine. In the mornings, Jaejoong introduces Yoochun to various types of earthly food that may or may not count as breakfast: kimchi fried rice, fried fish with rice, soondae soup, and sometimes Western foods too -- omelettes, bacon, sausages, french toast.
Jaejoong only manages to barely get Yoochun to help with the prep as he finds out that Yoochun is very uncoordinated with his fingers, as though the alien’s fingers are too unused to holding a knife straight.
He does, however, manage to teach Yoochun how to use the coffee machine so in the mornings, Yoochun makes the coffee and Jaejoong cooks.
They spend lazy afternoons either grocery shopping or Jaejoong finds time to introduce Yoochun to other fun earthly activities: there’s bowling (which Yoochun says he’ll never bowl with Jaejoong again), screen golfing, actual shopping, and even just wandering through the markets munching on tteokbokki (which always causes a gleam in Yoochun’s eyes to appear and he ends up with adorably puffy cheeks filled with the spicy rice cake).
When Jaejoong runs off to work, Yoochun takes Vick for walks through the park and to the clearing. Jaejoong doesn’t know exactly what Yoochun does, but sometimes he comes back early enough to drop by the restaurant for some food and other times, he disappears until late in the evening, only arriving back at the apartment just in time to greet Jaejoong.
Jaejoong had long since abandoned the couch at nights.
“My feet are cold,” he had said one night, tired of sore necks and backbreaking cushions.
Yoochun had merely grinned and scooted aside.
Yoochun frowns, but hands the bundle of parsley to Jaejoong.
“Is this it?” he asks.
Jaejoong covers his grin.
“Close,” he says and reaches for the cilantro. “Let’s take both anyway. Can you grab some meat?”
Yoochun nods and looks slightly dazed as Jaejoong calls after him, “thank you Yoochunnie~”
The alien had taken to wearing Jaejoong’s clothes, throwing on an odd assortment of clothing from his closet every morning. And every morning, Jaejoong would force him to change at least the shirt or the pants, depending on whichever looked less like they matched.
But he had to admit. Though Yoochun had no ass, he definitely looked good in Jaejoong’s clothes.
Jaejoong slings an arm around Yoochun’s shoulders and pulls him close.
After the grocery shopping trip, when Jaejoong opens the door, there’s a weird looking blue-haired man standing in the middle of his apartment.
Jaejoong immediately goes for the closest weapon to fight him off -- a lamp, but the lamp was still attached to the wall so he tugs it and it tugs back and he ends up sprawled on the floor.
The blue-haired man looks unimpressed.
“Junsu,” Yoochun says.
“Gjif;oaew,” Junsu says, looking straight at Yoochun. “Sjf;aoe.”
Yoochun glances at Jaejoong and then back at Junsu. Frowning, he nods and steps forward.
Junsu pulls Yoochun closer and Jaejoong watches as Junsu presses something on his wrist. Blue light emanates from the ground, engulfing the pair of them.
I’m sorry Yoochun mouths.
And they disappear.
Jaejoong stands. The lamp falls, shattering.
“Where’s Yoochun?” is the first thing that comes out of Yunho’s mouth when Jaejoong gets to Yunho’s apartment with Vick in hand.
Jaejoong’s stomach drops. He grunts and pushes Yunho aside, letting Vick pull him in.
Yunho follows, looking wary and worried.
“Yunho-yah,” Jaejoong says. “Why doesn’t anyone ever stay?”
Yunho lets Jaejoong pull him into a hug, arms slinking around the taller man like an octopus.
He spends the next couple days hibernating at Yunho’s apartment. Every so often, from Yunho’s guestroom, Jaejoong can hear Yunho, on the phone, talking to Boa.
A sigh from Yunho.
“I don’t know what to do, Boa,” he says. “He’s never been like this. Not since--”
And then Yunho moves far enough that Jaejoong can’t hear.
Jaejoong curls up tighter, pressing a wet face against Vick’s fur.
Vick lets out a pitiful whine.
On the sixth day of sulking, Yunho finally manages to at least get Jaejoong to stand outside for more than ten minutes.
When Jaejoong is in the middle of an angry rant against Yunho in the middle of the hallway, a tall man suddenly appears in front of Jaejoong.
“Kfa;oaehf,” he says. “Qj;fafmdk.”
He rolls his eyes and says very slowly, “come with me.”
Before Jaejoong can say anything, he grabs Jaejoong’s wrist and presses a button on a fancy-looking watch he’s wearing. Familiar blue light surrounds them.
Jaejoong gasps. His vision blurs and he loses his footing just in time to see the door open and Yunho’s surprised face.
Jaejoong’s vision swims as he lands, an array of bright colors decorating the edges of his vision as he pitches forward and nearly trips over his feet. He falls on his ass.
Yoochun, Jaejoong thinks but can’t focus. He wants to look, to find Yoochun, but his head hurts too much and his eyes are dizzy and everything is out of focus and -- he tries to breathe. He can’t really breathe all too well.
Yoochun’s face lines in front of Jaejoong’s face.
Jaejoong immediately cups the face with two of his hands.
“You,” he says. He tries to push away dizziness; it’s almost as if he had alcohol up to his limit. “You -- you -- stupid face. Yoochunnie.”
Jaejoong can vaguely see a smile.
“Yes, that’s me,” Yoochun says, amused.
And Jaejoong pulls him close, close enough for their breaths to mingle, and he presses their lips together.
Yoochun gasps, mouth open, and Jaejoong sneaks a tongue in.
It’s almost impossible to find time to breathe -- the colors dotting his vision gets brighter with every second and the entire room seems to spin faster and faster. Jaejoong tries to breathe, tries to slow down, but can’t, doesn’t want to. That pleasant curling in the pit of his stomach comes kneading a paw at him, urging him to continue.
Jaejoong can breathe again.
Their little fingers intwine, linking in half moons as Yoochun drags Jaejoong through the hallways, windows lit with a bright blue light that half blinds Jaejoong.
“Junsu’s room,” Yoochun says, points to a messy room filled with an assortment of clashing furniture, including a ping pong table, and the clothes littering the floor.
Junsu pushes them aside.
“No!” he says. “Not clean!”
Yoochun drags Jaejoong past, towards another room.
“Changmin’s,” he says. “The tall one,” he adds when Jaejoong looks confused.
The door to Changmin’s room is closed and Yoochun briefly explains that he doesn’t want to risk any of his precious body parts trying to show Jaejoong the details of the room. So they move along.
“The kitchen,” Yoochun continues. “The brig.”
They enter a circle-shaped room filled with -- what looked like -- four desks centered into a square shape. Each desk curved around the chair and poking out of the chairs were belts. Jaejoong assumed they were seat belts.
But there were buttons decorating the desks and there were lights and levers and --
“To fly, we always need at least two people,” Yoochun says, smiling. Then, he takes a seat in one of the pods, and gestures to Jaejoong.
“Come here,” he says. “Let me teach you how to pilot this thing.”
Jaejoong beams and slides into the pod next to Yoochun.
“What about Yunho?” Jaejoong asks.
Yoochun frowns over his tray of oddly colored food.
“Yeah,” Jaejoong says. “He kind of saw me --” he waves vaguely, “--when Changmin spirited me away.”
Changmin gives him an affronted huff.
“Lover boy over here asked me,” Changmin says.
Yoochun tosses a blue pea at him.
“You can give him a call,” he suggests. “Or I can invite him on board too.”
Changmin groans, but Jaejoong beams at the suggestion.
“Yes,” he says. “Can he stay here?”
“Where will he stay?” Junsu interrupts, bewildered. “There’s not a lot of space.”
“Well, Jaejoong’s sharing with me,” Yoochun says. “And you each have your own rooms and it’s not like you two are always actually sleeping in your rooms --” He glances between Junsu and Changmin, stopping when he sees Changmin’s face.
Changmin glowers, but the lack of protest tells Yoochun that it’s fine.
Yoochun gives Jaejoong a cheeky grin and they settle into silence. Then --
“So,” Changmin says. He stuffs a pile of purple mashed potatoes into his mouth.
Jaejoong stares. Yoochun and Junsu continue eating.
“Are you taking him as your date?”
“What?” Jaejoong sputters.
Even Junsu pauses and stops to look at Yoochun.
“You haven’t told him?” he says.
“Told me what?”
“Yoochun’s brother --”
Yoochun clears his throat and the other two immediately fall silent.
“My brother’s getting married,” he says. “And I need a date.”
He reaches for Jaejoong, curls his hands protectively around Jaejoong’s own, and looks into his eyes.
“Will you be mine?”
Jaejoong ignores Junsu and Changmin’s exaggerated vomiting and gagging and focuses on Yoochun’s starry eyes.
Jaejoong doesn’t know when, but Yunho comes tumbling towards him when he’s in the middle of poking at some of the plants that Yoochun keeps in the brig.
Jaejoong engulfs Yunho in his arms, lets the other man babble incoherently about aliens and spaceships and teleportation, Jaejoongie, what is going on.
“First off -- don’t get mad at me,” Jaejoong says. “Secondly, we’re on a spaceship.”
Yunho stops. Looks up. Stares.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
“This is good?” Jaejoong asks, looking down self-consciously.
Yoochun smooths the vest Jaejoong’s wearing, wiping away the glitter that comes off.
“Don’t worry,” he says, backing away.
Yoochun’s in a similar outfit, but cut differently. The only thing that comforts Jaejoong about their gaudy outfits is that fact that Jaejoong knows he won’t be the laughing stock if Yoochun decides it’s actually a prank -- they’re both wearing glittery abominations, complete with faux fur.
If Jaejoong squints, he swears he can see the glitter on their suits swirl, imitating the view of the galaxies.
“Ready?” Yoochun says, offering a hand.
Jaejoong takes it.
And he lets Yoochun pull him into the pre-party.
There are hundreds of aliens mingling, waiting for the ceremony to start. Most, if not all of them, are dressed in some kind of gaudy costume, but Jaejoong presumes that’s just the dress code. There’s tons of glitter sticking to everything, Jaejoong comes to realize, when he had set his hand down on the back of a bench only to bring it up and find glitter sticking to the palms.
Some of the other guests are dressed more conservatively; complete suits in bright colors like red or even blue if they were feeling adventurous conservative (boring, Junsu had whispered into Jaejoong’s ear when he walked by).
Jaejoong eyes Junsu as he tugs Changmin and Yunho over to greet another guest; the shorter man’s hair is still blue, but now his outfit matches the hair. His entire suit is electric blue, covered with faux fur and there’s even some feathers sticking to the back. When Junsu turns to walk away, Jaejoong can see that the feathers form a tail.
Changmin, on the other than, is much more conservative. He’s dressed in a complete white suit, but whenever he moves or when the light hits him a certain way, Jaejoong can clearly see that his suit sparkles. That, and the fedora Changmin adorns, is also white and glittery as well.
Yunho’s dressed almost exactly as Changmin, except his suit is in a dark navy in contrast to Changmin’s. And it’s cute, the way they seem to match.
Jaejoong eyes the way Changmin’s fingers hook over Yunho’s, and how Junsu stares at the both of them when he looks back.
“Huh,” he says.
A woman appears before him, suddenly. Short, but dressed gaudily elegant. A large hat sits on her hand, covered with numerous flowers of various shades and species -- some of which Jaejoong had never seen before.
“Yoochun-ah,” she greets, grinning. She reaches over to pinch his cheek and to pull him into a hug.
“Umma,” Yoochun says, releasing his mother. “Excited?”
Yoochun’s mother’s cheeks are pink, flushed with happiness and excitement. It’s obvious that she’s ecstatic that one of her sons is getting married.
She hits Yoochun’s arm playfully.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks, then turns her attention to Jaejoong. “Who is this?”
Yoochun’s arm curls protectively around Jaejoong’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Umma, this is Jaejoong,” he says. “My date.”
“Hi,” Jaejoong says, bowing. “Nice to meet you.”
She stares at him and then sniffs.
“Ah, an Earthling?” she says, then smiles. “I’ve always wanted to meet an Earthling.”
She brushes Yoochun’s words aside.
“Tell me, does the sky really turn orange and red sometimes?”
Startled, Jaejoong nods. Then, he grins. “Yes, it does,” he says. “And when the sun sets, the sky darkens into blues and purples until blackness takes over.”
She smiles and then looks back at Yoochun, winking at him.
“He’s poetic, too,” she says. “I like him.”
Jaejoong cries at the wedding, but only because Yoochun is crying too.
Yoohwan looks almost exactly like Yoochun, but younger and there are slight differences but even a stranger, an alien, would be able to tell that they were related. His bride was just as alien and beautiful.
The whole ceremony was alien as well, taking only a few minutes. The couple wore the same clothes, the same suit, and wrote something on the inner wrists.
Those words glow as they recite their vows, and Yoochun whispers into Jaejoong’s ear that it was because their vows were becoming true. Their vows were binding the couple together.
Jaejoong wants to ask about divorce, but the sniffling and the tears and Yoochun pressing his face into Jaejoong’s shoulder to stifle his sobs cause him to swallow his words.
He watches as the couple kiss, melting into each other’s embrace.
The night has long risen by the time they get back to their main shuttle. The other guests have left and the couple have long gone to the Honeymoon Planet, leaving only a few people behind.
“Come,” Yoochun says. He takes Jaejoong’s hand and leads them to his room.
Along the way, they bump into Junsu, who looks a little flushed in the cheeks as he runs past, heading straight for Changmin’s room. When Jaejoong and Yoochun pass the room, Jaejoong peeks at the door, catching a glimpse of Yunho’s familiar hair through the crack.
Jaejoong throws himself onto Yoochun’s bed, lays there.
And when he looks up, he can see that Yoochun is already smirking.
“Well?” Jaejoong says. “I definitely know that the others won’t bother us.”
Yoochun grins and slinks over, bruising Jaejoong’s lips with his own, lets Jaejoong melt into his arms, and pulls out gasps and moans from the other man.
And afterwards, Jaejoong curls into Yoochun and runs his hands through Yoochun’s long locks, savoring the moment. He presses kisses on Yoochun’s face, neck, down his collarbones, and feels the pleasant vibrations of his humming.
He wants this moment to last forever.
“Yunho-yah,” Jaejoong says one morning after sneaking into Changmin’s room where Yunho is staying for most of the trip.
“I don’t know what to do,” he says.
“I don’t either,” he says and lets Jaejoong wrap octopus arms around him.
Meals become quieter and the stares and touches linger far more, as if they all think it might disappear any minute. As though they’re savoring each other, eyes cast on each other’s eyes, jaws, nose, tracing the flesh with mere sight and memorizing as much as they could.
There’s a heaviness in the room, whether it’s just Yoochun and Jaejoong or all five of them. Even Changmin doesn’t know what to say and he usually had a quip or two to snark at the others.
They all know things won’t last.
“I have a life back on Earth,” Jaejoong says, when it’s just the two of them, just Yoochun and him.
A silence, then.
Yoochun stares at the tray of pink rice noodles, eyes careful to avoid Jaejoong’s.
“You have a life here,” Jaejoong says. He keeps his head down.
Jaejoong looks at Yoochun, stares at the tears that slip out of Yoochun’s eyes. A hand comes up; he cups Yoochun’s face, traces the jawline.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”
And he presses I’ll see you later kisses on Yoochun’s cheek.
Yoochun drops Jaejoong and Yunho off on Earth the next afternoon.
They watch as Yunho rushes off to gives good-bye hugs and kisses to Changmin and Junsu, writes down phone numbers and whatever other methods of contact aliens use, and keeps them close to his heart.
“I’ll be fine,” Jaejoong says. “You’ll be fine, too.”
Yoochun looks like he’s about to cry, crumples his hands into firsts.
“Hey,” Jaejoong says. He cups Yoochun’s cheek. pulls him closer. “You’ll be back, right?”
Jaejoong’s breath is hot against Yoochun’s mouth, so Yoochun leans in, kisses him.
“Of course,” he says. “I’ll be back.”
Jaejoong lets him go, steps away.
“You better,” he says, grinning. “Otherwise, I’ll hunt your alien ass across the universe.”
This time, so does Yunho.
Soon, life goes back to however normal it could get. Jaejoong gets swept with work, finds difficulty in finding time to meet up with old friends for drinks in between shifts at the restaurant, sulking with Yunho about their alien boyfriends, and wandering aimlessly through parks hoping to find another phallic spaceship.
He spends mornings walking Vick throughout the same park he found Yoochun. Sometimes, he walks by the clearing where he found the spaceship and sits there, takes out his phone and sifts through the pictures of Yoochun he had taken. Sometimes, he sits there and sulks until he falls asleep or until Yunho calls to remind him about his shift.
“Aliens suck,” Yunho says, once when they’re drinking.
He’s not much of a drinker, so by drink number three, Yunho’s face is already flushed pink and he’s already mumbling incoherently about impossible aliens and how much they suck ass.
“Suck ass,” he grins and laughs.
Yunho catches onto what Jaejoong is laughing about and laughs too.
They hold onto each other and quietly wait.
Sometimes, Jaejoong wonders if it was all a dream.
“Asshole,” Jaejoong says. “You didn’t even leave a number.”
He picks at the grass.
The numbers Yunho had collected don’t work on their phones.
Jaejoong supposes being in space makes it difficult to get cell phone reception.
“You asshole,” is the first thing Jaejoong says when the familiar blue light surrounds him one step away from getting into the shower.
“Oops?” Yoochun offers, actually looking sheepish.
But Jaejoong says nothing; he just throws himself at Yoochun, hurtling soft blows to the alien’s chest, mumbling about poor timing, a little warning would have been nice, and why couldn’t you just call me?
“I’m back,” Yoochun says, once Jaejoong’s calmed down.
“You’re back,” Jaejoong says and leans forward, presses kisses against Yoochun’s cheek and jaw and everywhere else too.