Please, Don't Leave Me (Jaeyong) [Complete]

8.

Taeyong was laying in bed trying to sleep. It was so hard sleeping in this bed. Still. He would've thought after two years he'd be used to the coldness of sleeping alone, but he wasn't.

He had almost caved a few times, bringing home someone he barely knew just to feel the warmth of another person, but he hadn't been able to.

He had never even kissed anyone other than Jaehyun. Not a real kiss, anyway. It would feel like cheating.

Taeyong grumbled and rolled over onto Jaehyun's still cold side of the bed. He turned to face the doorway and nearly screamed.

There was a shadowy man, tall and broad shouldered, standing in the usually empty doorway.

Taeyong reached for baseball bat in the bedside. He would have swung at stranger but for a quietly worded request.

"Wait."

The man held out his hand, palm up. It was a peaceful gesture. What the hell? Taeyong was confused. There was a robber in his house asking him not get violent?

"I don't have anything valuable," he told the man, his voice shaking. He was irritated with himself for sounding so scared. The figure chuckled. There was something so familiar about that low laugh but Taeyong couldn't place it.

"I'm not a robber," He said still laughing.

"Are you some kind of weird psycho? Kill me, then. I don't care."

I'd almost welcome it, he thought. Taeyong felt a blinding flash of pain coming from his doorway.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I only want to help." His voice sounded shaky too, like the stranger was trying not to cry. "Here. Touch my hand. You'll know then."

Taeyong couldn't help trusting the mysterious figure in the doorway. He reached out and brushed his hand against the offered fingers.

The feelings that rushed through him at that simple touch were indescribable. Peace, love, a deep sadness, the need to fix that sadness. He felt it all at once, so strong it would have knocked him overhad he been standing.

"Who are you?" This time he spoke in awe, not in fear.

"I can't tell you. All I can say is I'm here to help. You've been so sad. I just want you to be happy again."

Taeyong's head dropped forward. He wished that were possible.

"I can't be happy. The man I was going to spend my whole life with is dead. Gone. I'm barely surviving without him."

The figure trembled at his words.

"Will you at least let me try?"

He reached out and brushed his fingers along Taeyong's bare shoulder. At his touch that sense of peace returned, along with hope and... desire? He jerked back.This was insane! He must have finally lost it completely. The mysterious stranger reached forward again, returning the contact.

Maybe it was the touch of a warm hand, or the unbelievable feelings rushing through him, but Taeyong nodded.

He didn't know what he was doing, but for the first time in two long years, he felt like he could take a full breath without bursting into tears. Maybe it felt so good he didn't care if he was crazy.

"What should I call you?" Taeyong asked.

The man had sat down next to him on the bed. He was running his fingers through Taeyong's hair softly, like you would if you were putting a child to sleep. Taeyong knew he should be terrified and calling the police. But all he felt was... happy. He didn't understand, but it was such a relief he couldn't let it go.

"I don't know. I hadn't thought of a name." The man's answer was kind of strange, but somehow made sense. "What do you think would fit?" He answered without thinking.

"It's hard. You don't even seem like a person. More like an angel or something."

He heard a low chuckle. The vibration shook the hand that was resting in his hair.

"You can't call me that," the chuckling voice said. "How about, hmmm, Yoonoh?"

"Yoonoh?" Taeyong smiled a little and nodded. "In a weird way, it fits."

Then the newly named Yoonoh crawled under the covers and pulled Taeyong close, cuddling him up to his perfectly muscled chest.

Taeyong couldn't believe how good it felt. Almost like being with Jaehyun again. Not wrong at all. He felt a little guilty about liking it so much, but figured he was due a little peace.

Taeyong breathed in, and smelled the fresh wet scent of rain clouds and spring mornings, unusual but pleasant. Then he surprised himself by yawning, feeling his eyes grow heavy and tired. They should be tired he guessed. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in nearly two years.

"Go to sleep, Taeyong," Yoonoh whispered, pulling him closer and tucking the covers around his shoulders.

He meant to ask how the man knew his name but he didn't have the energy to say the words. Instead, he just closed his eyes and fell asleep.