“Are you pouting?”
“No,” Changmin balked. “I’m a grown man. I don’t pout.”
“Yeah, right,” Jaejoong giggled. “I can hear you pouting, maknae, and you’re the loudest pouter I’ve ever heard.”
“Shut up. You can’t possibly hear me doing anything over the phone.”
The older man’s giggles gave way to affectionate coos. “Awww…what’s up, Min? You know I can always tell when you’re upset.”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a kid.”
“Come on, my love. Tell me.”
Changmin flushed. He gave a quick glance around the apartment to make sure it was empty before grumbling under his breath.
“What?” Jaejoong asked. “I can’t hear you when you talk to yourself.”
“I said, ‘Everyone thinks those songs you wrote are for him.’”
Changmin can hear only silence on the other line.
“Hyung? Are you there”
“Yes,” Jaejoong answered. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I know, Minnie. I’m sorry.”
“Are they? Are they for him?”
The older man sighed. “It’s complicated, love. I write them for both of you. Parts of my songs are for him, parts of them are for you. Everyone just overlooks the parts for you,” Jaejoong finishes quietly.
Changmin didn’t know why, but he felt pathetic. Like the lonely, forgotten child no one thought was loveable. He sniffled quietly.
“Baby, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying. I told you I’m a grown man.”
Jaejoong chuckled. “I know.” He paused a beat before speaking again. “Where are you, Min? In your apartment.”
“Yes,” Changmin replied, wiping his burning eyes. “Why?
“Lie down somewhere and put the phone on speaker.”
“Why?” Changmin repeated.
“Just do it,” Jaejoong huffed. “Lie down and close your eyes.”
The younger man gave a petulant sigh before he stretched out on the couch. He turned his speakerphone on and set the device on the coffee table. “Now what?”
“I’m going to sing to you. Just like I used to.”
And so he did. Jaejoong’s voice was low and rich as it filled the apartment. Changmin didn’t recognize the tune; its melody was sad and haunting, and the lyrics spoke of a love that could never be destroyed. Changmin sunk deeper into the couch cushions and allowed his hyung’s voice to soothe his anxious mind. He was surprised by how much he missed this—Jaejoong’s lullabies were the staple of his early teenage years—and when the song finally ended, he had to fight the impulse to ask to hear it again.
“Min?” Jaejoong called out after a few seconds.
“Hmmm?”
“That’s a new song I’m working on for JYJ’s next album. You’re the first one I’ve ever sung it to.”
“Thank you, hyung,” Changmin said softly. “I’m honored.”
“And Changmin,” the older man continued, “just know that whenever you hear me singing it, I’m singing it for you.”
