This is the first in a series of four, but they can be taken as one-shots :) Based on the fact that Valentine's Day is coming up, and I figured I'd try and write something about love. And jaemin. ♥

It’s raining— practically pouring— outside, and Jaejoong ducks into a nearby coffee shop for shelter. He finds a booth in the corner, slouching low and scowling as darkly as he can to ward off any perky staff members. Nevertheless, one of them makes his way over and asks, “Can I get you anything?”

Jaejoong grudgingly looks up, taking in the waiter’s appearance. He’s about his age, with dark hair and an overly bright smile. He feels his scowl deepen as he says coolly, “I haven’t got any money.”

But the boy’s smile doesn’t falter. “It’ll be on the house,” he says cheerfully, pen poised over his notepad. Jaejoong eyes him warily, opening his mouth to ask why he would do something like that, when he comments absentmindedly, “It’s our policy to kick out anyone who hasn’t ordered anything, and—” he looks discreetly out the window— “I don’t know if you’d want to be out there.” He turns away, flashing another crooked grin. “I’ll be back in a bit to take your order.”

*

The college professor is droning on and on about economics or something, and half the class is either not paying attention or doing something else. Jaejoong himself is close to falling asleep and reasons with himself that it’s okay if he takes a little nap; he’ll just copy his friend’s notes later. Junsu is sitting next to him, diligently recording every word their teacher says. It makes Jaejoong’s head hurt to look at him, so he turns to scan the rest of the students in the opposite side of the room. His gaze falls on a surprisingly familiar head and he frowns, trying to remember where he’s seen it before.

It finally clicks— rain, the coffee shop— and he nudges Junsu, who looks annoyed at the interruption.

“Hey,” he says, voice low, “who’s that kid down there?”

Junsu looks to where he’s pointing and seems surprised. “Him? That’s Shim Changmin. You’ve never heard of him? Apparently he’s some kind of genius, he’s skipped a couple grades and all the professors adore him. Why?”

Jaejoong doesn’t answer, and Junsu shrugs and returns to his notes.

Shim Changmin, he thinks to himself. Shim Changmin.

*

It’s way too early in the morning for Jaejoong to be awake, much less walking around outside in the freezing cold. He’s only out there because his roommate, Yoochun, promised to overlook the fact that Jaejoong was behind on rent if he picked up something from the post office for him.

“Damn Yoochun,” he grumbles, not for the first time. He takes out his iPod and turns it on, trying to ignore what feels like the beginnings of a headache.

As the third song comes to an end, he suddenly hears fast-paced footsteps, right behind him.

Instinctively— and possibly irrationally, as well— he swings around, arm catching the person behind him in the chest. The force of the impact causes the other guy (Jaejoong’s mind dimly registers jogging attire and even manages to form the words “oh, shit”) to topple onto him. When he finally manages to look at who he hit, he’s temporarily struck speechless, because who else is it but Shim Changmin himself?

Jaejoong is suddenly all too aware of the heat of Changmin’s body on his own, and every place where they touch burns.

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Changmin abruptly pulls himself up and hoists Jaejoong to his feet as well. “Sorry,” he says easily, as if Jaejoong wasn’t at fault, and their hands touch for a second too long.

*

This time Jaejoong purposely tries to find Changmin, but it’s not because he wants to see him or anything. He’s only going to apologize, and repay him for the free drink.

Thankfully, the shop is still open. He sits at the table nearest the door, and is soon approached by a red-haired waitress. “Excuse me,” he says, before she can speak, “Do you happen to know if Changmin’s here today?”

She purses her lips, glancing to the side. “He’s supposed to be having his break right now, actually, but...” She pauses as his face falls, and relents. “But, I’ll go fetch him for you.”

Less than a minute later, Changmin stumbles out of the back room, hastily tugging on his apron and shooting dirty looks over his shoulder. Without looking up he curtly flips open his order pad. “What can I get for you today?”

“Um,” Jaejoong says. He feels awkward, which is something in itself. Kim Jaejoong is never embarrassed. Kim Jaejoong is cool and aloof, even to his friends, and to strangers he’s usually downright unfriendly.

Changmin blows a strand of unruly hair out of his eyes. “Look, if you’re not...” he begins, exasperation clear in his voice, and then looks up. His annoyed expression turns to surprise. “Oh,” he says, recognition dawning in his eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles nervously. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. And pay you back for the drink you bought me.”

“Really, there’s no need,” Changmin says automatically, but Jaejoong insists he repay him somehow and Changmin finally suggests, “Would you like to have a drink with me? Technically I’m supposed to be on my break now.”

“Sure,” Jaejoong agrees, relieved.

Changmin sits in the seat across from him, and orders something for both of them. They talk about nothing for awhile, exchange names, and learn they’re taking some of same courses. They have more in common than either expected and plenty to talk about, and Jaejoong begins to feel more comfortable. He even laughs occasionally.

There’s a lull in the conversation when the drinks arrive, delivered by the same girl who Jaejoong had talked to. Seeing her reminds Jaejoong of something he was wondering about. “If you don’t mind my asking, why were you so upset earlier?” he asks curiously.

Changmin chokes slightly on his coffee, and it takes him a few seconds before he can talk again. “Oh, that,” he says, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “It was nothing, I just broke up with my…” he waves his hand around vaguely.

Jaejoong puts on his sympathetic face. “Break ups are always rough—”

“—boyfriend,” Changmin finishes, turning slightly pink.

He pauses mid-thought. “Boyfriend?” he repeats.

“Yes.” Changmin bites his lip and glances at the clock. “Listen, I have to get back to work now, but it’s been nice talking to you.”

Jaejoong can tell Changmin’s just giving him an excuse to leave in case he’s horribly put off by the fact that he’s gay, and even though he’s not he doesn’t push it. He nods, once, and gets up to go. “I’ll see you around,” he calls, and sees a flicker of doubt in Changmin’s eyes.

*

Once his classes are over for the day, Jaejoong gets a phone call from Yoochun reminding him that it’s his turn to buy food this week, and this time, can he please not buy so many perishables? Their refrigerator is only so big. He grudgingly makes a quick detour to the supermarket and then resumes walking back to their apartment.

It’s harder than he thought it would be. His arms are loaded with what feels like a month’s worth of groceries, for crying out loud, and he can barely see where he’s going. Jaejoong passes by someone talking on the phone, and catches part of the conversation.

“Stop calling me, Yunho,” he hears, and slows down. Their voice sounds strangely familiar. Jaejoong tries to look over the bag in his arms and manages to catch a quick glimpse of the person.

And of course it’s Changmin, who continues talking.

“I broke up with you! Stop calling me. I’m not going to take you back.” Jaejoong sees Changmin shut the phone with a disgusted sigh, and wonders if he should try to sneak by unnoticed. Then he remembers Changmin’s skepticism when he suggested seeing him again, and running away would just prove him right.

“Changmin, hi,” he says, shifting his bags so he can look at him properly.

Jaejoong almost laughs when Changmin yelps and almost drops his phone, but when he turns Jaejoong can see his eyes are red and puffy.

“Are you okay?” he asks cautiously.

Somehow, they end up sitting on the sidewalk together, having a long heart-to-heart talk.

“The thing is,” Changmin sighs, “he was my first love. I really liked him when I first met him, and he asked me out. For the first year it was perfect, and then I don't even know what happened. It was like I just stopped or something, and I had to remind myself I liked him. That was when I figured I’d better end it.”

Jaejoong rubs Changmin’s back soothingly. “You did the right thing,” he tells him. “Staying in a relationship like that, neither of you are going to be happy.”

“I know,” Changmin says, looking miserable. “ But he never seemed to notice anything was wrong. For a long time I wondered if there was something wrong with me.”

“Don’t think that." He hits him lightly on the back. “This sort of thing happens all the time, and no one’s ever to blame. Don’t worry about Yunho. He’ll find someone else, you can count on it,” Jaejoong snorts, and his voice softens. “You both will.”

*

Jaejoong doesn’t know why he lets Junsu drag him to his soccer match. True, Junsu had threatened to break into Jaejoong’s apartment and burn all his clothes, but it’s not like Jaejoong believed him or anything. Here he is on a perfectly good Friday afternoon, crammed in the stands amid avid soccer fans.

Even though he doesn’t know anything about soccer besides the fact that people try to kick balls into goals, he gets caught up in the excitement and ends up cheering until his voice is hoarse. Someone sits next to him, and Jaejoong almost whacks them in the face when Junsu scores a goal.

“Do you normally get this excited when you watch soccer?” an amused voice asks. Jaejoong knows that voice.

“Changmin,” he laughs. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t even like soccer that much, actually, but all this energy is contagious. You like soccer too?”

Changmin’s face is flushed and pink from the wind. “It's fun. I don't play, though,” he admits.

They sit together for the rest of the game, and when it’s over everyone in the stands swarms down to talk to the players.

“Come on, let’s go now and congratulate them,” Jaejoong shouts over the crowd.

“Oh, but—” Changmin hesitates. “I don’t know any of them—”

“One of them’s my friend,” Jaejoong reassures him. “I’ll introduce you.” Before Changmin can protest again, he grabs his hand and leads him down the stairs.

Junsu greets them happily, sweaty and triumphant, and it is only when he looks confusedly at their joined hands that they remember to let go.

*

Jaejoong wakes up to the dulcet tones of his roommate, who seems to be having an argument with someone. Their voice is not quite so melodious, and in fact they seem to be shouting.

“Yoochun, you promised!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but something came up. Can’t you take someone else?”

“No, or else I would’ve asked them already! I can’t take just anyone, I asked you because you’d be able to protect me in case anything went wrong.”

“Honestly, Changmin, you don’t need protection.” There’s a loud smack. “Ow, see, that’s what I meant!”

Jaejoong doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation because his brain catches one word: Changmin. He jumps out of bed, makes himself look semi-presentable in record time, and carefully walks through the hallway.

Changmin’s back is to him; Yoochun’s rubbing his arm and talking very quickly, most likely to prevent being hit again. “Look, if I can find someone to take you, will you relax?”

“I don’t trust your friends.” He’s got his arms crossed and sounds sulky.

Yoochun spots Jaejoong over Changmin’s shoulder, and Jaejoong can almost see his eyes light up. “My roommate will take you!” he declares, and shoots him a pleading look. Jaejoong rolls his eyes.

“Who the hell is your roommate?” Changmin demands.

“Hi,” Jaejoong says mildly, and Changmin’s head whips around.

“Jaejoong?” He gives Yoochun a surprised look. “Why didn’t you tell me Jaejoong was your roommate?”

Yoochun huffs impatiently. “You didn’t ask.” He turns to address Jaejoong. “Since you seem to be friends, Changmin needs you to go to a party with him. Are you free right now?”

Changmin glares at Yoochun. “It’s not as simple as that. I mean, it’s not going to be fun. There’ll be drinking, and drugs, probably, and stuff...” he trails off uncertainly.

“Don’t worry,” Jaejoong says. “I’m used to rough crowds.

*

There’s a taxi waiting for them already, and they get in. Changmin gives the driver the address, and they drive off.

“Why do you want to go to this party so badly?” Jaejoong asks, intrigued. Changmin doesn't look like he drinks or parties much, and he definitely doesn't look like a drug dealer, but maybe that’s just part of his act.

“This guy in my chem class promised me some hard-to-get,” which Jaejoong takes to be a euphemism for illegal, “substances that I needed for my science experiment. He said he wasn’t going to risk bringing them to school, and that only a party would provide enough distraction to hand them over.” He scowls.

Jaejoong processes this. “Wow,” he finally says. “You’re such a nerd.”

“Yeah, I know,” Changmin says cheerfully.

*
 
While Changmin goes to find his source, Jaejoong flops onto the couch and looks around in distaste. No wonder he dislikes parties so much; they suck. There are at least four couples making out by the door, a couple jello-shots going around, and beer in the kitchen. The house is hot and sweaty and smells bad.

Changmin finds him after he’s had a couple jello cubes out of sheer boredom. Whatever was in them, it’s strong. He tries to focus on Changmin when he leans in and tells him that he’s got them; they can go.

“Stop moving,” Jaejoong groans. He reaches out, manages to grab a sleeve, and tugs Changmin towards the couch. He curls up next to him and burrows his face in his neck. “You smell so much nicer than the house,” he sighs.

Changmin laughs, and then inhales sharply when Jaejoong’s lips graze his skin. His voice comes out shakier than usual. “Jaejoong, what are you doing?”

“Dunno,” he mumbles, and curls his hand around Changmin’s belt. “Hitting on you?”

Changmin jerks away so fast Jaejoong almost falls over, and he gets a head rush when Changmin pulls him up. His hand closes in a vice-like grip around Jaejoong’s wrist and he drags Jaejoong outside.

*

It’s wet and windy outside and it reminds Jaejoong of when they first met. The cold helps snap him out of his disoriented state. Changmin doesn’t push him up against a wall or anything melodramatic like that, which Jaejoong is a little disappointed about. Maybe he is still drunk.

Changmin certainly seems to think so. “Are you drunk?” he demands. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not that drunk,” he defends himself, and then sways slightly. “God, Changmin,” he says, frustrated. “Why are you being so damn difficult? Is it that hard to accept that I might actually like you?”

“You hardly know me.” Changmin takes a step back. “You don’t know anything about me!

“I know enough. I know you’re nice to strangers, I know you’re a mad genius and teachers like you, I know you go running and what classes you take, I know you had a boyfriend you stopped loving and you’re just waiting for someone else,” he says, tone challenging. “Are you afraid? Is that it? Do you think it’s going to happen again, that you’ll like someone and then stop?”

“Fuck you—”

He raises his voice. “Do you like me?”

Changmin hesitates.

Jaejoong steps forward until he’s almost touching Changmin. “Changmin,” he says softly, “how're you going to find someone if you don't at least try?”

Changmin tries to shove him away, but Jaejoong grabs his wrists and refuses to let go. He struggles for a few seconds, and then gives up. “Yes,” he whispers, and he seems to collapse a little.

“Good,” Jaejoong says decisively, and kisses him.

The kiss is nothing special, cool and clean, and the smell of rain is in the air. Jaejoong imagines fireworks are going off somewhere, even if it's only in his head.

Eventually, he pulls away. Changmin still looks miffed, but his eyes are bright and hopeful and he's willing to try. That's all that matters. “You jerk,” he grumbles, and punches Jaejoong in the arm. “Bullying me into saying I liked you.”

Jaejoong laughs, and resists the urge to pinch his cheeks and call him cute. “How else was I going to get you to confess and be sure?”

Changmin snorts. “You’re so dense,” he sighs. “Of course I like you. Why do you think I bought you the drink in the first place?”