| Fan Fiction |
by Micah
The light bulb clicked on and Yoochun remembered that he had indeed called Mr. Kim by his first name. “Sorry, Mr. Kim, I was freaking out.”
“I find it odd that you’re calling me ‘Mr. Kim’ when we’re in this position.”
Yoochun noticed that his hand was unconsciously playing with the other man’s hair. He quickly pushed his employer away and stood up from the bed. The blood was running to his head and he placed a hand over his thumping heart.
“S…sorry for…uh…” he stammered, not knowing which word was more appropriate, “…for…uh…hugging your head?”
Mr. Kim chuckled. He actually chuckled! Something humorous would never make him laugh, but now he was laughing at this awkward, awful situation!
“You should be sorry for letting go. I was actually getting comfy,” he grinned cheekily. While his head was turned towards where Yoochun stood, Yoochun silently scooted around to reach for his other pillow.
He smacked the pillow into the other man’s face and ran out yelling, “Good night!”
■■■■■
Yoochun opened his eyes and shrieked (like a little girl) when he saw Junsu…er…Mr. Kim standing next to the bed. Even though he wore a regular pair of pajamas, he still felt the need to pull the blanket all the way to his neck and shouted, “What in the world are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d listen to you sleep. Did you know that you snore, really soft though?”
“I do not! How did you get in here?”
“I felt my way here. It was harder to walk from the door to your bed, but you sleep like a log. You didn’t even hear when I knocked over some stuff.”
“I didn’t sleep until five this morning,” Yoochun defended as he glanced at the clock. “It’s only seven!”
Mr. Kim ignored the complaint and turned his head towards the window where he felt the breeze coming in. “Changmin said he’s seen patients who suffer these bad headaches and end up recovering pretty soon afterwards. I hope I’m one of those lucky ones.”
Yoochun looked down sadly. If he got lucky, then Yoochun would be the unlucky one.
He had to get out of here, off this island, out of his life…or end up in jail.
It hurt him to even THINK about leaving the handsome, beautiful man. What would happen to his heart if he really did leave?
It didn’t matter. He would have to leave. He didn’t want Junsu to see what he looked like, but he wanted to do something special for him before leaving.
“Mr. Kim…”
“Junsu,” he corrected.
Yoochun sighed; this wasn’t the time to start getting close (or closer) with him. “I call all of my employers by their last name, Mr. Kim.”
The other man suddenly frowned and Yoochun felt guilty. “I’d prefer my friends to call me by my first name.”
‘Friends’ was just as hurtful as ‘Employee’.
‘Friend’ was better than ‘Boyfriend’. It wouldn’t hurt as much…not that ‘Boyfriend’ would ever be possible.
Yoochun decided not to say either name at all. “You want steak tonight?”
He didn’t seem to like changing the subject, but he made a funny (cute) cringe at the question. “Are you cooking it?”
“It’ll be good this time; I promise.”
His handsome smile took over the cute frown. “Do you keep your promises, Mouse?”
“Micky.”
“Mouse.”
Yoochun sighed. “Of course.”
“Can you promise to be there when I regain my sight?” he flashed a hopeful grin.
Yoochun opened his mouth and nothing came out. He unconsciously shifted farther to the other side of the bed. It was as if Mr. Kim felt the movement (or heard it), because he reached out for Yoochun, who quickly pulled farther away.
“Why can’t you promise me that?” he demanded. The cute frown was back.
Yoochun felt the urge to cry, but he told himself that he was stronger than that. He had to be strong for the day when he would leave…which would be soon.
“I’m going to drive into town for some ingredients. I think I ruined any of the steak that was in your fridge last time I tried to cook the dish,” he spoke rapidly as he flipped the blanket off and stood up so he could run off the bed without coming in arm’s reach of Mr. Kim.
“Micky!” he exclaimed angrily. “I came in this morning because I was hoping my vision would come back any minute and I could see what you look like. I could have eventually followed the sound of your breathing and reached for your face to see…to feel your facial features, but I didn’t! I respect you so I didn’t. Now I’m asking nicely: will you promise to be there when I regain my sight?”
Yoochun gripped tightly onto the edge of the door. Sadly, he whispered, “I can’t…because I have a policy of keeping all of my promises.”
This was a promise that he would not, could not keep.
■■■■■
Yoochun tried to balance the groceries in his arms as he walked into the beach house. He found all the lights off and Mr. Kim was sitting in the living room with no television or radio on. Yoochun was sure that he knew how to locate the remote control for both machines.
He placed the groceries on the dining table and turned on the lights. Then he walked over to the huge sofa where Mr. Kim sat stiffly. “Are you okay?”
“What time is it?” he inquired in a calm voice that scared Yoochun.
Yoochun glanced at the clock. “It’s seven.”
“When I asked you the same question before you left this morning, you told me ten,” he reminded in the same calm tone. Then in a sudden roar, he exclaimed, “It took you nine hours to shop for food?”
Yoochun was annoyed by his temper. Yoochun wouldn’t be with him for much longer and he really didn’t want to put up with his temper during their remaining time.
“It takes six hours just to drive back and forth! So what if I spent the whole day in town? I asked you if I could take today off and you said I could! What I do on my day off is my business!”
Mr. Kim was blinking confusingly, probably shocked by the outburst. He whispered, “Sorry.”
Yoochun felt the anger disappear immediately, recalling that Mr. Kim didn’t like saying ‘Sorry’.
“No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I should have called, but…my cell phone is broken.”
Yoochun watched as he opened those plump lips to say something and then closed them again. It was as if he didn’t know if he wanted to say it. Finally, he voiced, “I was just…worried about you and…I’m only good at expressing my feelings through anger.”
Yoochun felt his heart melt. He was so prideful and egotistic, but he was admitting his wrongs to Yoochun. “That’s okay. I think you’re getting better.”
A small smile appeared on his kissable lips and his hand moved to reach into his pant pockets. “Take my cell phone so at least I can call you when you go out.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine,” he protested.
“I have two other cell phones that I can use. This one…” he paused and smiled sadly. “It was specially made for my girlfriend. She complained that I was always too busy with my business so we both went out to get matching cell phones in which only we know the numbers of. I bet she’s already thrown hers away so no one should be calling this one.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Yoochun tried again. He was feeling rather envious of Mr. Kim’s girlfriend.
“Just take it so I can contact you the next time you go out to the market. After you left, I remembered that I had something I wanted you to buy for me, but I couldn’t reach you.”
It would be more convenient. He would just return it when he leaves.
Yoochun took the phone from him, careful not to touch his hand. “Thank you.”
He smiled, that handsomely heart-wrenching smile. “When’s dinner?”
Yoochun laughed at his cuteness, the childish way that he asked the question. “Real soon; I even picked up a book especially on making the perfect steak!”
“Then hurry! I’m hungry!”
“You didn’t eat lunch? I prepared it all on the table. It’s not something that needs heating up.”
“I didn’t feel like eating.”
“Why not?” he demanded. This reminded him of the times he had lectured his brother and his best friend (the people that he loved so much) about eating meals on time.
“You weren’t here to eat with me?”
Yoochun was shocked by his statement. It sounded like he was testing Yoochun’s feelings towards him.
“I…I’m going to go marinate the steaks.”
He shuffled into the kitchen, leaving his employer in the living room.