Rating: Eventually NC-17
Jaeho Pimpage and Beta: ranalore
Summary: Section Three.
The beginning of a shifting relationship. Hot Korean boys. Sex. Dancing and some angry words. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily in each section.
Section One; Section Two
Specks of snow flurried on a gust of wind, dusting the length of Yunho’s nose, tangling minute shards of ice in the curve of his lashes. Blinking furiously, the young man blew impatiently at the water clouding his sight, the evening fracturing into spans of icy crystals and a light-washed night sky. Far off in the distance, a rumble of traffic poured through Seoul’s streets, streams of people passing by the end of the alleyway, uncaring of the drama unfolding in the darkened niche of the club’s back door stoop.
“Jaejoong…” Yunho’s pleas curled softly in the shell of the singer’s ears, unheard in the daze he’d drunk himself into. More than his body ached, a strange thread of worry wound itself around his chest, tugging at a crack in his heart…something Yunho wanted no part of. Jae’s broken-doll body seemed heavier than it should be, weighed down perhaps with the anger Yunho flung at him with uncaring ease. “What birds? What are you talking about? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Feel sick.” Jae heaved again, a sickened, rigid convulsion that shocked Yunho. Another bramble of words followed, Jae’s provincial dialect losing their meaning to the wind. Staring up with wide eyes, Jae waved Yunho off, a look of disgust and something else darkening the young man’s beauty. Jaejoong wavered again and finally gave into the slumber his body demanded, lost in the ache of his thoughts.
Yunho’s guts churned with regret and shame at the sight of the other’s fallen body, the leader’s hands burrowing under Jae’s slender waist in a vain attempt to lift him free of the filth and water. Jaejoong felt too warm for Yunho’s liking and the singer’s mumbled Korean … a bare feathery whisper under his breath …made no sense. Jae’s thickened Chungcheong accent slurred his words… a mumble of scented heat and pain poking at the tender rawness in Yunho’s thoughts.
The rattle of dance music and voices rose as the back door opened, dim lights from the rear passage of the club softly illuminating Jae’s ashen face. Glancing up, Yunho barely had time to cover his friend’s body with his own, a trio of argumentative young men being ousted into the street by one of the club’s hefty bouncers threatened to overrun them, heavy boots stamping too close to Yunho’s thighs. The man stood in the door frame, a silhouette of menace and shadow, the gleam of light behind him reflecting off his massive, shorn head. Leaning over, the bouncer stared down at the bundle of flesh and bone laying huddled at the end of the steps, narrowed eyes widening in surprise.
“Hyung..” Yunho wasn’t sure who’d spoken first, the man blocking all of the light or himself. All he could feel was the fear rising from the base of his neck, working through the skin on his scalp and shivering back down his arms. Jaejoong’s weight dragged at his arms, their bodies nearly matched in density despite the fragility of the other’s appearance.
“I need … to call…someone, yes?” Yunho started, glancing down at Jae’s slack form, his full mouth working a soft protest when the band leader tried to straighten him. The responsibility of being Dong Bang Shin Ki’s leader once more hung on him. He’d stood angry and violent as Jae fell in on himself. His innards twisted again, tightening until he could feel his abdomen muscles clench in protest.
“He’s just drunk. Too much soju.” The bouncer leaned forward, his palm nearly wide enough to cover Yunho’s whole face. Reaching under Jae’s torso, the man lifted the singer easily, shoulders bunching with the effort. He knew the club’s owner wouldn’t take kindly to finding one of his better patrons passed out in the alleyway… his job called for brute strength and discretion. Now was definitely time for discretion. “Come. We’ll call you a cab…”
“I brought a car.” Yunho gathered himself up, rising to his feet and worried at his upper lip, teeth caught in thought. “Are you sure? I can get him to a doctor.”
“No. He should be fine. Did he eat before he came?” The bouncer strode quickly, moving over the rough cement of the sidewalk.
“I don’t know.” Yunho strained to remember if the mercurial singer had actually eaten anything from his plate. The pushing steel of a spoon’s edge was all Yunho could recall from the too-silent meal, the others taking their food either to the living room or back into the studio area, the doors closing quietly against the building storm. Yunho could recall placing food on his own plate but the tasteless dust on his tongue told him nothing of what he ate, a blind meal of unspoken words and bitten back accusations. “Probably not enough, if anything.”
Nodding knowingly, the older man hefted Jae’s weight more evenly in his arms, his footing more sure on the cement walkway. “Ah, that makes sense then. If you drink and there’s nothing in your stomach, you get drunk quickly. He probably didn’t have enough water and every time I saw him, he was dancing. That will make the alcohol seek out the skin, and you feel its numbness more. He should be fine once he gets some sleep. Maybe a hot shower to pull the soju out of him.”
“I’ll take him home then.” Yunho worried at that idea, trying to find the keys to the car he’d taken in his pockets.
The familiar jangle of steel on his fingers were also chilled with a soft burnish of silver. Drawing them free of the confining fabric, Yunho gripped tight at the Byzantine cross earring he’d found on the living room floor of their shared apartment. He’d known it was Jae’s, the young singer often slid it into his piercing once he woke up, an angelic counterpoint dancing to the wicked prettiness of his face. Despite his frustration at Jaejoong, Yunho had felt a thrill of …something… when he spotted the flash of silver in the rug’s weave, glad he could tell the singer that he’d not lost his favourite iconic treasure.
A round of uttered appreciation danced about before Yunho slid into the relative warmth of the sports car and eased onto the street. Glancing at Jae’s prone form, Yunho resisted the urge to push back the sweatshirt’s hood away from the singer’s face. Horns blasted around him as Yunho drifted slightly to the right. Startled, he pulled his attention away from the slumbering singer and back onto the road, hands gripped tight to control the car carefully around a weaving bus.
Traffic thickened and thinned around him, the insanity of Seoul’s streets nearly driving him off the road as he tried to make a turn into their neighbourhood, the ice-slick asphalt sliding the car’s tires out from under them. Turning the wheel into the gentle curve, the car arced back onto the street, resting against the ridge of a broken sidewalk. His heart pounding, Yunho breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, trying to restore the calm to his nerves. The upper muscles of his arm throbbed, his hand pressed firm on Jaejoong’s stomach where he unthinkingly reached out to prevent the young singer from sliding forward and striking his head.
Leaning forward, Yunho closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the hard leather padding of the steering wheel, listening to the shush of the snow outside and Jae’s soft breathing. The interior of the car reeked, a curious blend of musky sex and sick. The bouncer was right, Yunho thought to himself, Jae’s sweat was now mostly soju, the potent liquor melting from his system.
Tucked into the relative safety of a residential street, Yunho turned in the small confines of the car’s interior, staring down at the complicated mess of a young man he’d run rough-shod over. Guiltily, Yunho stared at Jaejoong, nestled up against the door frame. He’d seen the young man groomed to nearly an inch of his life before photo shoots and concerts but the rawness of his sensuality was never more apparent than now. Clad in the barest wisp of a t-shirt and jeans a size too big… probably purloined from Yoochun’s dresser… Jaejoong slept soundly, the oversized white hoodie with its broken plastic zipper swaddling his torso.
Wrinkling his nose at the pungent odor coming from the warming fleece, Yunho leaned over and began to work Jae free of the confining hoodie, unbuckling the singer’s lap belt in the hopes he could better maneuver Jae’s lanky, slack body.
“What are you doing?” Jae’s hot whisper stung Yunho’s neck, breath skittering over the sensitive skin under the leader’s jaw. “You want my jacket? You have your own jacket. Why do you want mine?”
“You’re too hot. You’re burning up. You’ll be more comfortable with this off.” Yunho worked Jae’s limp hand through a sleeve, softly ordering the young man to make a fist, hoping that he would for once listen and make things easier. Naturally, Jae did nothing of the sort, choosing instead to lean his head back and stared up into Yunho’s worried eyes.
“It’s too warm. Roll down the window.” Jae swallowed, trying to ease the aching dryness in his throat.
“Joongie, please… listen to me. Just lean forward so I can take this off of you. You’ll feel better.” Yunho pulled Jaejoong forward, cradling the young man’s body into the curve of his own as he tried to work the fleece free of Jae’s limp arms. Realizing how close Jae’s mouth was to his own face, Yunho muttered a soft warning. “Don’t bite my ear.”
He was met with a soft snore in response, Jaejoong’s body easing back into a more comfortable sleep once free of the sweat jacket. Sliding Jae back onto the seat, Yunho debated tossing the filthy thing outside, leaving it on the street. His hands clenched into the fabric as the image of someone finding the jacket and sliding Jae’s scent around them, seeking warmth from the stained fleece. A mindless fury rose, nearly rivaling the one he’d felt when Jaejooong stumbled during practice… a soft red tempest of anger blanketing his mind. Taking a deep breath, Yunho slowly released his fingers, reaching behind him to tuck the hoodie behind the seat.
The blanket of snow was nearly a solid white across the hood of the car, the engine a soft purr beneath Yunho’s anguished breathing. A soft curl of red fabric ribbon danced from the rear view mirror, weighted by a dangle of gold metal stars etched with their names. Yunho easily found Jae’s name…Hero… among the others, the edges tarnished smooth from touching. The ribbon swayed as Yunho released it, a sparkle of bright painted across the dark city street outside.
Staring at Jae’s face, Yunho saw the ravaged remains of the singer’s temper ease back into a placid sleep. Murmuring, Jae stretched out, his long legs hooking easily over the console and over Yunho’s knee. The air was still too warm for Yunho’s liking, an adjustment of the heater bringing no relief as he debated which one of the other members he could call to help get Jaejoong back up into the apartment. It would have to be Yoochun, Yunho decided. Junsu had fled their shared living quarters to visit his brother and Changmin wouldn’t be able to hold up Jae’s weight, despite the youngest man’s protests that he would be capable.
Jae moved, trying to get away from the hot air pouring onto his face. A soft sigh escaped his ripe mouth, the words lost in a dream. Beads of sweat shone on Jae’s upper lip, his face flushed from the hot air pouring from the car’s defroster, Yunho’s unheard heart catching on the glisten.
Shifting uncomfortably, Yunho reached out and touched the drops, smearing his fingers with Jae’s moisture.
“God, what have I done to you?” Yunho shuddered, trying to pull himself free of the darkness surrounding him. “I keep pushing then you break run… and then I chase. Why don’t you say something…yell at me…scream louder until I hear you? How long are we going to be doing this? How long until you finally just push all of us away?”
Yunho stared at his wet fingertips, his own body smoldering despite having shed the jacket he’d hastily pulled on before storming out of the apartment. Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, Yunho tentatively tasted the sweetness of the young singer, closing his eyes at the sugar-salt of Jae’s body rolling to cover his tongue. Hungry from the taste, he slid his fingers past his lips, greedily sucking them, frantically trying to draw every last drop from the ridges of his prints.
Swallowing hard, Yunho shivered, tasting the heaven in that small kiss of liquid and wondered at the confusion in his soul.