Rating: Mild lime
Fat raindrops struck the rooftop, the burn of lightning in the air. Yoochun stood at the edge of the wooden platform lined with bobbing marigold plants, floral sunbursts drumming a beat to the tune of the sky. The baritone stood with his head tilted back, mouth parted to swallow the rush of warm water pouring into his open throat. Above him, the clouds crackled with energy, blue kisses against the sky’s silvery skin.
Yoochun was unsure of how long he stood there, staring up at the sky but when he’d finally noticed the chill creeping into his marrow, dew starred the streaked ebony of his hair and the skin on his face was nearly frozen stiff.
The tangible taste of freedom filled his mouth then, an addictive miasma that poured into his lungs and belly until he thought he would choke from the headiness of it but knew that he’d only want more. Yoochun discovered the edge of his soul in that moment, among the stars and trees. The ethereal wings of his essence lifting to catch the wind as it ripped through the weald and burned its kiss onto his skin.
Junsu’s face tugged at his heart, a memory born of ache and want. He now understood Yunho’s frustration at hiding behind the curtain of the group’s tightness, any affection shown cast in the light of a close friendship rather than smoldering whispers under shared blankets. Yoochun yearned to cast off the ties that bound him to a lifestyle where his body and voice were his only coin but in that speckled darkness, the truth of his existence resonated… he was a passing interest to Junsu, merely someone to laugh and play with when Su’s body needed warmth.
Yoochun knew had nothing other than the comely tight flesh that held his thoughts, Junsu’s sensual flirtations an erotic siren call he couldn’t ignore. A quick tongue and agile cocky smile would only keep Junsu back until Yoochun’s world became a bit more scary and Micky sought out the other’s comfort. That frightening event seemed to be a recurring theme lately, body clean of emotional scars from Junsu’s healing nature but the feel of the singer on Yoochun inflicted unseen damage. Micky trusted no one easily…and hardly any one fully. Yet it seemed as if even that was changing, because of the quixotic Junsu.
“You’re soaked through.” Junsu sauntered up behind his friend, licking at the stream of water running down Yoochun’s jaw. Sucking on a shock of water-darkened hair, Junsu tasted the singer on the rain, a brush of cream and orange zest. Snugging up against the line of Yoochun’s lean body, Junsu fit into the spaces God left for him along the other’s muscles, a dip where he curved out.
Sighing, Yoochun reached down to grasp one of Junsu’s wrists, bringing the young man’s hands up to his mouth. The heavy want of his body drove a languor into his bones, a satiation brought on purely by Junsu’s heat sliding against him. The moisture in the air sparkled between their tightly wrapped torsos, an arc of electricity warmed by one another’s touch.
“You feel good…against me… like this.” Yoochun suckled at the tips of Junsu’s fingers, drawing down past the young man’s nails, scraping his teeth on the rise of his friend’s knuckles. The other man brought out the desire in his blood, Yoochun’s want for Junsu’s body aching down in his bones. “It’s like you brought the sun with you, even though it’s raining.”
“I’m not one of you girls to sweet talk, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu murmured into the breadth of Yoochun’s shoulders. “But I’m not complaining. You’re too cold out here. Are you trying to get sick so we’ll take care of you like we did Changmin?”
“I don’t think I could get that sick.” Yoochun shook his head at the horror of spending a week in bed. “Maybe Yunho could get sick and we could spend our time in the stairwell. Think he would sacrifice himself for us?”
“Not a chance.” Junsu scraped his teeth along the ridge of Yoochun’s shoulder blades, rubbing his nose against the wet fabric of Micky’s t-shirt. “Turn around. Your mouth’s on the wrong side.”
Their lips met slowly, soft flesh barely skimming. The rain stilled, trapped between their mouths. Junsu tilted his head, swallowing the water flavoured by their kiss. He wanted to share it, lost in the sheer pleasure of Yoochun’s arms sliding down to his waist. Moving his hands over Yoochun’s hips, Junsu hooked his fingers into the singer’s back pockets, wishing he could slide into the weft of the heavy denim. Micky hummed, a rumbling depth of sound vibrating against Junsu’s parted lips, pulling a smile out of his friend’s soul.
Another dip of Yoochun’s tongue pushed past Junsu’s lips, laving at the striated run on the roof of his friend’s mouth. The strong pulse on Junsu’s neck throbbed under Yoochun’s fingers, pouring the sound into the thrum of Micky’s soul. They clung to one another, heating the rain pounding their bodies into a rising steam.
“We should find a tent or something…” Yoochun broke away, a reluctant pull from the moist heat consuming him. “Maybe get out of the rain.”
“I might have an umbrella somewhere.” The young man said, cocking his head in mock contemplation. “We definitely don’t want to go downstairs because the others are crawling all over the apartment. Hardly any privacy there.”
The smell of Yoochun got to Junsu, creeping past his insatiable hunger and the singer delicately bit Yoochun, pulling a mouthful of flesh between his teeth just for a nibble without breaking the skin. Sometimes Junsu just liked knowing he could have a piece of Micky’s flesh in his mouth, knowing he had the power and the permission to rake his skin or plunge into his mind with a whispering suggestion of pleasure.
The roof grew heavy with promise and moistness and for a long moment, Yoochun wondered if the walls around his passions could stand up to the insistent push of carnal sizzle pouring from Junsu’s very skin. An expanse of hard chiseled stomach, visible from the hem of Junsu’s shirt to the low slung hips of his jeans, rippled with a glowing golden pattern as Yoochun’s fingers brushed over him, the dark sienna outer ring of the dancer’s eyes widening to nearly swallow the amber within.
“I swear, sometimes, I think you’re not human.” Yoochun whispered. Junsu laughed aloud, a spill of glittery laughter sparkling from his throat. The singer rubbed his hands over Yoochun’s sides, brushing his fingers along the cup of Yoochun’s belly, hearing the beat of his heart pounding against the thin layer of skin that separated Yoochun’s flesh from his.
Yoochun discovered, much to his surprise, that he liked the smell of another man…this man…a potent crushed peel of a clove rubbed between his fingers. The scent of musk underlying the sugared spice that seemingly burst from within held an erotic alien flavour to it.
Yoochun knew Junsu was the first man he’d had prolonged erotic contact with. His attraction to Junsu puzzled him, flowering forth from some unknown desire curling up from the depths of his belly. He understood the need and want of Jaejoong for Yunho, a distant melding of contrasting passion. His body betrayed him with those passions when Junsu was near, the pressure of flesh against the walls of his throat or the insistent push of something solid yet giving on the membranes of his body. Taking a deep breath, Yoochun drew the perfume of Junsu into his lungs, savouring the delicate flavour of the young man on his tongue as he watched Junsu’s handsome face with hooded eyes.
“I’m as human as you are.” Junsu responded, licking at a stray raindrop dangling at the edge of Yoochun’s chin. “If you don’t believe me…how about if we find someplace we can be alone and you can dig your fingers inside of me to find out?”
and yeah… time to get back to what i was doing before. actually, i think i need a soda. i'm putting this on hold. just wanted to dribble a few things out.