Pairing: Yoochun and Junsu
Rating: R-ish. Lime-scented.
i haven't decided if this is in the So Much Mine universe. to those of you following my scribblings, you know when this takes place. for those who aren't... it's a one-shot(ish) piece. regardless... here's some yoosu. ::::grins::: don't abuse the bunny. it's delicate and has very tender feelings.
Rubbing at his leg, Junsu heard Yoochun struggle to keep a laugh from escaping when Junsu walked into the back of the chair, banging his knee on the wooden slat back. The pitch black of the apartment seemed to bring out the silliness in the taller singer, a smile wreathed over his changeable features. A single candle lit the living space, casting long shadows over familiar objects. Outside of the window, Seoul lay silent and dark, dreaming amid the ice and fog rolling through the streets.
“I can’t see.” Junsu felt his way back to the couch as Yoochun lit a taper on the end table. “I guess you can curse a single candle in the darkness. It’s better to have plenty.”
“I couldn’t find any more. I think Yunho stole all of the ones out of the cabinet. I only have two more.” Yoochun’s deep voice rumbled across the thin velvet control Junsu had over his body. Poured cream over chocolate, the baritone purr gave fangs to the butterflies in Junsu’s stomach. “Can you make a fire? I worry that the heater is off too.”
“Did you check their room?” Junsu warily stepped over to the slate-covered fireplace, the scant candlelight coming from the coffee table.
“I don’t want to go digging around in their room.” Micky made a face at his roommate. “Would you?”
“No.” Junsu agreed, his mind wandering to the possibilities that lay in the couple’s drawers. Blushing, he turned his back towards Yoochun, hoping to take his mind off of his lascivious thoughts.
Being around Jaejoong and Yunho stoked the heat between the others, Changmin nearly ignorant of the sensuality between the pair but Junsu was keenly aware of the sly touches as they passed, often boldly erotic in front of cameras. They flaunted their relationship, hiding in plain sight beneath the veil of a close friendship but the knowing glances and secret smiles were noticeable to anyone peering too closely. Junsu envied their closeness, often sneaking looks under his lashes at the beatific couple. For all intents and purposes, Yunho brought the moon down from the stars for Jaejoong, hammering the silver crescent into a pair of rings they shared on their fingers.
Junsu wanted that. He wanted to feel the depth of a passion that filled his soul with the perfume of another’s kiss. The lingering strands of desire aroused by Yoochun’s closeness wove around his heart, often catching him unaware when the other’s eyes were cast elsewhere. Micky’s smile brought a unfurling heat to Junsu’s chest, the press of his heart pounding with the sweetness lingering on the other’s lips.
Hefting a log into the inner hearth, a plume of ash rising up the slender chimney. Arranging several smaller logs onto the pile, Junsu set fire to kindling and blew gently on the treated wood. The chips caught, spreading the flames slowly through the stack, a warm crimson glow eating at the edges of the logs. Pulling the mesh grate back into place, Junsu picked his way back to the couch, rubbing at his arms from the cold setting in.
“Here.” Yoochun held open the thick quilt he’d gotten from the hall closet. Too heavy to sleep with, it provided more than adequate warmth for the chill creeping through the room. “I checked the city notices on my phone. We’re not going to have power until maybe late tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ah, so late.” Junsu tucked his bare feet under Yoochun’s legs, letting the young man’s fleece pants warm his toes. “Are you tired?”
“No.” Yoochun shook his head, pulling Junsu’s right foot out from under him. Long fingers eased the cold from the slender singer’s toes, Micky working at the arch of Junsu’s ankle. Rumbling a contented sigh, Junsu leaned back against the arm of the couch, putting his other foot into Yoochun’s lap. The press of the baritone’s thumb on the small knot along his heel made Junsu moan with pleasure, the singer arching his back and relaxing his legs. “Do you like that?”
“Yes. I like when you touch me.” Junsu licked at the dryness on his lips, wondering if Yoochun heard the desire in his speech. He’d said it, finally, in a darkness they didn’t share, Junsu allowed a hint of what he longed for to creep into his voice.
“You feel good on my hands.” Yoochun buried his attention to the stretch of skin under his fingers. Junsu’s legs ran hot lines over his thighs, pressing hard along the edge of his sex. Swallowing again, Micky traced the line of Junsu’s shin, tingling the baritone’s already taut nerves. Shifting, Junsu slid closer to Yoochun, hitching his way over the sofa cushions until the curve of his rear rested against Yoochun’s thigh muscle.
The quilt covered their laps, hiding their desires beneath the batting and stitched together potpourri of coloured squares. Sighing, Junsu wet his lips again, wondering where all of the moisture in his mouth fled to. The fire crackled as the flames ate slowly into the wood, chewing off small bits into ashen embers. Yoochun stole a glance up at Junsu’s face when the singer turned his head to stare into the fire, the yellow-orange flare catching on the edges of his liquid brown eyes. Yoochun’s hands stilled, wrapped around Junsu’s calf. Enraptured by the passion emerging on Junsu’s face, Micky held the moment in his lungs, hoping to hold the echo of the singer’s features in his memories forever. Junsu suddenly turned his head, catching Yoochun’s eyes on him.
“What are you thinking of, Chunnie?” Junsu leaned forward, his fingers trailing over the larger man’s wrists. There was a competent strength in those long fingers, stretched and muscled from playing piano. Junsu traced a thin scar on the webbing on Yoochun’s left hand, a childhood mark leftover from a baseball game played in an empty field. He knew the stories of most of Yoochun’s minute scars and dappled blemishes, unspooled yarns shared in the whispers over the beds.
“I’m wondering...” Yoochun felt caught on Junsu’s gaze, a steel pin through the butterfly of his heart.
“What are you wondering, Park Yoochun?” Junsu moved even closer, nearly sitting on the other man’s legs. Their breaths mingled, the cinnamon sugar cookies they’d shared sweetening the air. A crumb dangled on Yoochun’s cheek, unseen in the dim light until Junsu drew near.
He’d heard Yunho talk about temptation, often wondering how the leader could say that there would be times in their lives when the world would hold something out to be taken and there was nothing inside of a man that gave him the power to resist. Until that moment, in that small morsel of baked dough, Junsu thought otherwise. But when faced with that single tiny bit of sugared kiss on Yoochun’s jaw, Junsu had to admit, Yunho knew what he was talking about.
It was a simple thing to slide into Yoochun’s space, their bodies tightened into a woven embrace. Even simpler was the dab of Junsu’s tongue over the cookie bit, just the barest skim of the tip against Yoochun’s skin. The sugar dissolved on the roof of Junsu’s mouth, leaving the citrus burst of Yoochun’s scent wafting into the abyss of Junsu’s longing. There it took seed and bloomed, hard sharp barbed flowers that left him bleeding and wanting more.
They sat there, a spot of hot wetness on Yoochun’s face, drying in their shared breath. Sliding his hand behind Junsu’s back, Micky hoisted the other man forward, moving the singer onto his lap and capturing Junsu’s lips with his own mouth. Junsu responded in kind, small little sips of Yoochun’s wetness before he succumbed to a full drink, filling his throat with Micky’s essence.
A star crumbled beneath the light between them, bursts of colours unseen to the naked eye flowing from one soul to the next. Yoochun tasted the night on Junsu’s lips, then the brush of velvet from the young man’s tongue when Junsu pressed in, working the caress deeper into Yoochun’s mouth. Micky’s teeth found the plump swell of Junsu’s upper lip, plucking the flesh with a ravenous bite before releasing it, finding the dimpled marks of the bitten flesh with his tongue. Around them, the candles smoked under the burning wicks, wax pooling down the pillars, weeping the time away in a slow sobbing drawl.
Junsu shifted in Yoochun’s lap, sliding the cleft of his rear against the hardness stiffening along the baritone’s thighs. Straddling the other, Junsu rested his knees into the hollowed cushions besides Yoochun’s hips, fitting his body against the other singer. Micky’s hands roamed over the small of Junsu’s back, savagely pulling the young man in.
Yoochun barely heard the roar of his blood in his ears, lost in the flavour of Junsu in his mouth. A man tasted different, he knew this in his mind before he captured Junsu’s taste but the reality was a vastness Yoochun couldn’t imagine until his mouth brushed the other’s. Junsu’s lips were rougher than a woman’s, his passion harder beneath Yoochun’s stroking touch. The delicateness of Junsu’s frame was deceiving, the power in the signer’s lean body evident as his legs trapped Yoochun against the couch. A steely strength lay under the loose clothing swaddling the singer’s torso, hard muscles under stretched smooth gold.
The casual touch of their bodies during practice or on stage was left burnt into ash in Yoochun’s mind, replaced by the hungry consuming fire under his fingertips and across his lap. Junsu’s pressing body left no room for thought, his mouth traveling to the curve of Yoochun’s jaw, flicking the baritone’s earlobe with the tip of his tongue. Canting his head back, Yoochun moaned low in his chest while Junsu explored the tanned column, licking at the swell of his throat.
Junsu’s fingers undid the top of Yoochun’s shirt buttons, exposing the sleek chest swell beneath the soft cotton cloth. Another temptation lay in the line of bone over Yoochun’s collar, a ridge begging for Junsu’s teeth marks. Micky’s hands clasped at the back of Junsu’s head, crushing the young man’s hair against his skull, his eyes closed against the obscene ardor stealing into his groin. The singer’s tongue darted along the line, a ripe hardness matched by the length of Yoochun’s desire cradled in the cleft of Junsu’s rear.
Afraid of Junsu’s explorations, Yoochun pulled the other up, a firm grip in the singer’s hair guiding Junsu back to Yoochun’s mouth, Micky falling into the darkness of another kiss. Sin poured from Junsu’s tongue, raking apart the shreds of Micky’s control. Responsive under Yoochun’s tongue, Junsu suckled at the baritone’s lips, tasting one and then the other, drawing them into a swollen fullness that warmed with each bite.
Junsu’s palms rubbed against Yoochun’s chest, finding the curve of muscle dappled plum with hard nubs. Sighing, the singer leaned into Micky’s embrace, the baritone’s hands stroking at the small of his back, just skimming the elastic of his sweats. Moving forward, Junsu edged Micky’s fingers downwards, slowly working the other’s touch under the fabric until the tips rested on the rise of his rear. Yoochun murmured, unwilling to draw back from the enticement of Junsu’s body, curving his fingers down and gripping the swell tightly against his palms.
Reason surfaced, drowning deep under the wash of want in Yoochun’s mind. Gasping for air, the baritone pulled away, slanting his head and resting his temple on the curve of Junsu’s shoulder. The singer mewled, a crooning sound hiked into his throat at the loss of the delicate treat he found in Yoochun’s mouth. The lingering cinnamon swirl on his tongue begged for the musky heat of the baritone’s lips or the fresh citrus burst on Yoochun’s skin.
“Where are you going, Chunnie-ah?” Junsu asked, his voice husky and low, nearly a match for Yoochun’s rumbling erotic murmurs. Yoochun’s powerful body throbbed under him, promising a fullness his insides ached to feel. They’d shared showers before, quick sluices between shows and the fleshy heft of Yoochun’s sex more than lived up to its promise as Junsu rubbed his hips against the other man’s groin, reveling in the power his body had over Yoochun’s arousal.
“This is... insane, Junnie.” Yoochun didn’t dare to look up.
Micky knew he would be lost if he met the other’s eyes, a caramel pull on his soul. He couldn’t find the breath in his lungs anymore, dashed to the iced stone of his fears. Crystalline cobwebs stretched over his desire, crimping into the memory of the battles shared by Jaejoong and Yunho. Yoochun couldn’t live with the emotional torment of the couple’s relationship, a battlefield of anger and passion, smouldering hot and wrenching joy forged between two stubborn, head-strong souls. His own tender heart wouldn’t be able to withstand the heartbreak of an argument with Junsu, it would slaughter the gentleness he nursed in his soul.
“Don’t you want this?” Junsu’s heart stopped, a piercing steel shaft chilled by the fear of rejection. “I know I want this.”
“We’ve never...” Yoochun failed in his attempts to sway away from the other, finally meeting the other’s gaze. Micky felt his heart fall, opening under the singer’s warm smile and quixotic face. “God, how the hell am I supposed to think around you? I can’t even find words on my tongue. Everything I say tastes like you.”
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” Junsu smiled, touching at the curve of Yoochun’s chin with a gentle kiss. “We’ve been... thinking about this for a while. Haven’t we?”
“Yes.” Yoochun’s nod came slowly, his concentration fixed on subduing the overwhelming thickening in his body. His throat closed around his tongue, choked tight by desire and unspoken questions. He feared that if he prodded too much at the gift of Junsu in his lap, the other singer would melt away, cotton candy under a hot rain. “I know I have. But this... is this something...”
“How can something that feeds the want inside of us be wrong?” Junsu asked softly, his words trapped against Yoochun’s mouth with a kiss. “Aren’t you ever curious? Haven’t you ever wondered if I could satisfy you more than any woman you’ve been with? That I could give you something just as... filling in return?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Junnie-ah.” Yoochun admitted, tears glittering in his long lashes. “I’m afraid that I’ll want no one else but you and when you’re done playing with me, you’ll leave me with a broken heart. I’d rather wonder what it is like to have you than to have had you and feel you slip away from me.”
“You have to learn to take chances, Yoochun.” Junsu pressed his hands over Yoochun’s palms, the baritone still cupping the fullness of Junsu’s rear. “Sometimes, you have to trust someone in order to find out what pleasure can bring you...even if it’s mingled with pain. Isn’t that worth having? Aren’t I worth having?”
“More than you know.” Micky breathed, the candles flickering in the night air. “I just don’t know if I can walk through the fire you ignite inside of me. It burns so hot. There might not be anything left of me afterwards.”
“Then that’s something you have to think about.” Junsu reluctantly slid off of Yoochun’s lap, lingering for a long moment in a sensual, final kiss on Micky’s wide mouth. Sighing, he resigned himself to a long cold shower before tucking away under the cold, lonely sheets of his bed. “But when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting to keep you warm and safe. You know where I sleep, and our beds are wide enough to hold both of us.”