Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating: R
Overall Rating: NC-17
Synopsis: A continuation of the relationship between Yoochun and Junsu from So Much Mine. Once again, hot pretty boys, music, dancing and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
Winter refused to give up its hold on the park, a frigid wind screaming through the tree lined paths and down into the playground area. The nearby glass building glimmered, the washed out sun catching on its icy panes. Long shadows cast down over the grass below, a deserted concrete square sporting snow frosting at its edges, drenched in the building’s dark presence. The breeze whistled as it sang through the empty hoops of the basketball court, its high pitched keen longing for summers past.
Jaejoong stood at the window of their shared apartment, the flesh on his skin crawling at the sound of the wind. Rubbing at his biceps, the singer made a face at himself, his reflection bouncing back his growing displeasure at having to trudge through the cold air to the park below.
“Explain to me why we’re going to play basketball?” Jae quirked his mouth, disgusted as Yoochun showed no interest in undoing the laces of the shoes he’d just put on. “Neither one of us really even likes sports.”
“You don’t like sports.” Micky corrected. “I like basketball. Besides, who knows when we’re going to need those skills? You just don’t want to go out into the cold.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Jae sighed, grabbing the thick jacket he’d stolen from Yunho’s side of the closet. The heavy fleece still smelled of the other man, masculine and comforting. If the singer was going to go out into the frigid tundra below, he would have Yunho wrapped around him in some manner. “Why aren’t you dragging Yunnie with you? Or Junsu? He would love to play with you.”
“I’m tired of Junsu playing with me.” Yoochun grabbed the ball with one hand, palming its rough surface with his long fingers. “Quit complaining and let’s go.”
Jaejoong stood for a moment, unsure of his friend’s hard features. Breakfast that morning had been a quiet, still affair... the normal bustle and chatter subdued at the far end of the table. Changmin tried engaging Junsu a few times, receiving only non-committal grunts for his efforts before the tenor slid his uneaten food into the garbage and left the room. Yunho watched Junsu’s exit with narrowed eyes, his spoon half-filled with oatmeal. Changmin turned his head to ask Yoochun about the tenor but the baritone’s tight mouth warned off any questions, Micky’s expressive eyes flat with a simmering anger.
The singer was sadly correct in his estimation of the chill outdoors, a cutting bite of ice slicing at his cheekbone as he cautiously moved down the stairs. Moist under his feet, the cement seemed to slide under him, each step warily ventured until he reached the rougher surface of the salted sidewalk. Yoochun stood at the curb, the basketball tucked under his arm. Waiting for Jae, he faced the park, his gaze seeing something other than the frozen tight remains of the winter-seeded grassy knolls.
“Are you alright, Chunnie-ah?” Jaejoong ventured a hand on the crook of his friend’s arm, pulling Yoochun slightly around.
Tears traced silver rivers of pain over Yoochun’s face, catching on the rise of his cheeks and coursing into the set of his lips, his mouth a hard wall against the cries in his throat. Biting the inside of his mouth, Yoochun canted his head down, trying to struggle to keep his anguish in while allowing the words tearing from his heart out. Anger lingered amid the hurt, a burning raw emotion of betrayal and questioning. Micky ached to slam the ball into the glass wall behind them, wanting to smash the panes from their moorings in a great shattering, hoping the shards would pierce his body until the blood poured from the open wounds and he fell white from its lack.
“Chun...” Jae gripped his friend’s shoulder, his fingers digging into Yoochun’s bones. The feral singer pressed in, a slanting beauty holding a sheet of love over the baritone’s heart, wanting to protect him from the raining fire of Micky’s hot tears. “Please, what’s wrong?”
“Junsu...” Micky gulped, tilting his head back to swallow the salt of his own tears. “Damned Junsu...”
“I lied to him.” The tenor sighed, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ve been lying to him for as long as I’ve known him... and I decided last night that I should tell him the truth.”
Junsu briefly wondered if the duvet covering the hyungs bed was clean enough to lie on. A tentative sniff while Yunho wasn’t looking rewarded him with the fresh scent of apples and mint detergent, leaving only his pain at misleading Yoochun chewing on the insides of his belly. His wild imagination filled in the crevices of his thoughts, long pale limbs hooked over Yunho’s tanned shoulders, fingers tangled into the silken sheets hidden under the bedspread, a crimson pour of heated linens wrinkled with clutched passions.
“Tell him the truth about what?” Yunho frowned at the younger singer, his long legs hooked over the arm of the wingchair they’d dragged in from the other room, a victim sacrificed to Changmin’s expanding need for space. Its brushed velvet nap worn to a tired grey where hands ran over its ancient curves, the once lush hunter green a faded weald hue.
The young man stalked into the elders’ bedroom an hour following his leave of the kitchen, a glower set into a granite hardness on his mouth. Sensual and fluid, Junsu started to speak several times, Yunho silently waiting for the younger man to spill his troubles. Finally throwing himself on the bed, the tenor hissed out the sourness in his belly, letting the hot air scald his tongue before he finally allowed himself a rumbling growl of irritation.
“We’re talking about Yoochun, yes?” Yunho asked, wondering if he’d misunderstood the other.
“Everyone keeps asking me that.” Junsu lifted his head up, shoving one of Jaejoong’s many feather pillows under his crown. “Yes, Yoochun. Who else would I be talking about?”
“Junsu, I don’t know.” The leader leaned forward, sliding his feet to the floor. Resting his elbows on his knees, he brought himself close to the younger man. “I need hear a bit more than what you’ve told me. So far, I know that you’ve lied to someone…and now I know that someone is our Yoochun. I don’t know what this lie is or how terrible it was but he’ll forgive you. He’s forgiven me for … things I’ve said.”
“I think it’s a bit more … serious.” Junsu gestured, his hands a staccato butterfly beating against unseen glass. “He trusted me, hyung, and I violated that.”
“Why don’t you start off at the beginning?” Yunho rubbed at his face, his dream of a quiet day spent in lazy relaxation slipping away in front of his eyes.
“When we first… came together…when the five us were brought together… do you remember how hard it was?” Junsu stumbled over his words. Sitting up, the young man crossed his legs under him, clutching the pillow to his stomach.
“It was… awkward.” Yunho nodded. “But none of us knew one another. Not really. We were all very polite. It took some time for us to… relax and grow together.”
“Tong Vfang Xien Qi was really my only chance at being…Xiah.” The younger man said. “I’d been training for six years and there were times… you know of it, when it looked as if I would never be… anything. And if there is one thing I wanted more than anything else, hyung, it is to be… the best.”
“It’s what binds us together, Junsu.” Yunho replied. “We all want that in our own way. It’s what makes us strong.”
“It’s also something that makes us hide what we are.” Nibbling at his upper lip, Junsu debated what to say, lost in a puddle of his conflicted emotions. Considering all that Yunho had gone through over the past few months, Junsu cleared his throat and began to talk. “None of us can risk… want to risk… losing what we’ve struggled so hard to obtain. You’re willing to risk that for Jaejoong… but I’m not willing to sacrifice it because people are idiots.”
“I’ve always known that I was.. different.” Junsu shook off Yunho’s impending interruption. “Please, let me finish. It’s not something that I’ve ever really talked about. Not because I’m ashamed of what I want but… it’s never really been important. Not until I crossed that door, carrying my suitcase and became Xiah.”
“You’ve just discovered your love for Jaejoong.” Yunho murmured a tacit agreement to Junsu’s words. “But he’s really the first man that you’ve ever found that you’ve wanted. Or so I’m guessing.”
“You’re right.” The leader agreed softly. His love for Jaejoong conflicted with the small fondnesses he’d garnered for women over years, those tepid feelings washed away by the tsunami of desire for Jaejoong. “He is…different.”
“I think you fell in love with everything about Jaejoong despite his outward… shape.” Junsu laughed, a spark of sarcasm in his husky voice. “I was going to say appearance but anyone can see his beauty. Your life would have been so much easier if he’d been a girl.”
“I would imagine much of Jaejoong’s life would have been for the better if he’d been born a girl.” Yunho admitted. “But I love Jaejoong for everything that he is. The wildness in him is… because he’s male. Fiercely so despite his beauty. I love that the most about him.”
“See, while you’ve had to discover the… attractiveness of a male form…even one as pretty as Jaejoong.” Junsu breathed hard, feeling his secrets pour loose from his soul. “I’ve always found…either sex…desirable.””
“It’s never mattered to me. Women… I like them and I love having them around but men too. There’s something about them that makes me want them.” Junsu shrugged off Yunho’s exhalation, the leader leaning back in his chair as he absorbed what the younger man was saying. “I look at Jaejoong and see that perfect cold porcelain face and I know he’s beautiful but there’s also how I see you, strong and handsome. Masculine and commanding. That speaks to me too. I don’t want either of you… but the differences… I appreciate both of you.”
“Junsu…” Yunho blew out his cheeks, puffing his breath to clear his mind. “All this time, you’ve said nothing about…this? I mean.. I don’t mean.. I’m not sure what I mean. “
“I didn’t say anything at first because none of us knew one another.” The tenor reached over to touch Yunho’s knee. “Then as we grew close, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to alienate any of you. How was I supposed to know that you and Jaejoong would start this… entanglement? I saw how he looked at you and then… boom… everything went to hell between you. Where was the time to stand apart and say… there’s something I need to tell the four of you?”
“No, I understand why you… kept quiet.” Yunho clasped the other’s hand, his eyes sliding from Junsu’s face to the nearly white sky outside. “I would have done the same if I were you.”
“If you were me, you’d have pulled Jaejoong into bed long before now.” Junsu snorted, his smile returned to his face. “Hyung, I thought the stars were going to burn from the sky before the two of you finally finished snarling and circling.”
“Ah, don’t get too cocky.” Yunho warned him, pushing lightly at the other’s head. “Seriously, I’m sorry that … you couldn’t tell us before. I understand your reasons but Yoochun… he’s your best friend...”
“He’s my best friend...Yoochun and Hyukjae, both of them are so important to me.” Junsu interjected. “But sometimes I think I’m not his.”
“I hurt him because I was selfish and didn’t think he would understand. I never gave him that chance..” The tenor pointed out, his hands eloquent as they wove his words around him. “There is so much I admire about Yoochun and one of those things is that he leads with his heart. I know who he is now but and to be honest, in the beginning, I couldn’t be sure how he would feel about my… choices.”
“He came from America.” Yunho said. “Things are different there. More open.”
“Not so much different that my desiring another man would make him feel comfortable to share a room with me.” Junsu replied. “It’s not something that I can admit to a stranger and you all were strangers. Then, it became so important not to give him more pain. Chunnie-ah was already twisting inside because he was alone. It was more important to hold him when he cried. I couldn’t shove myself into his pain and say…take care of me, Yoochun. I’ve taken care of you.”
“No, I suppose not.” The leader replied.
“So I had to wait… and I think I waited too long.” No amount of sighing would ease the tightness in Junsu’s chest. The thought of losing Yoochun hurt, probably as much as the anguish he caused Micky by not sharing all of his secrets.
The first time Hyukjae kissed him on the mouth promised a tingling satiation of the growing lust in his young body, the exploratory tongue rough on his soft lips. He’d kissed women, a velvet softness far from the rougher feel of another male. The sensation excited him, the clutch of his abdomen muscles curling from a spreading heat. They’d played at being in love, first heart-wrenching declarations of forever, then a comfortable familiarity of their friendship when their enflamed lust subsided to ashen fond memories. He’d sat with Hyukjae through the years, often sharing confidences and stories of conquest or heartbreak, neither caring if their casual relationships were male or female.
Their innocence was shattered when a stone carved from intense hatred struck their world.
Poisonous, cancerous words filtered through groups of young men, sometimes in jest…other times in bitterness. The pressure of trying to rise to the notice of the entertainment world sharpened predatory fangs among the trainees, explosive situations made volatile as jealousy ripened among groups. Another boy, younger than Junsu and Hyukjae, suddenly collapsed and mysteriously disappeared from the training rotations.
Rumours surfaced, then solidified as whispers grew. The young man openly flirted with another, making his attraction to an older singer known. The resulting ostracization and sweltering pressures shoved the boy into anxiety attacks, a tender heart broken under verbal and emotional beatings.
Junsu and Hyukjae learned from that incident. They would remain silent about their desires, only sharing the information with people they deeply trusted. Junsu felt comfortable sharing his own secret with Yunho, a man he felt understood the pressures of being… attracted to someone of the same gender. Hyukjae agreed, offering his own secrets for Junsu to share if needed.
“So what is the problem between you then?” Yunho asked. “You know that he doesn’t care… if he did, then he and Jaejoong wouldn’t be as close.”
“The problem isn’t that I like men.” Junsu was surprised to feel a wetness at the edge of his lashes, a single tear threatening to rattle his composure.
Rubbing at the eye with his thumb, Junsu tried to pass the motion off as if he had an itch. Yunho allowed the deception, steadfastly ignoring the moisture and the other’s surreptitious swipe. He’d shed enough of his own tears to know that sometimes, those shed in front of another were best left unseen, something Yunho learned in his pursuit of his mercurial lover.
“Then what is it?” Yunho pressed. “We can fix it. The five of us have come too far to let something that none of us care about fester between us.”
“The problem is that I lied about it.” The tenor glumly whispered. “I led him to believe that I knew nothing about …wanting another man. Yoochun is one of the most honest people I know. He hates being lied to. Even more, he hates being lied to by someone he trusts. I betrayed that trust every time I left things unsaid between us. I was saying to him that I didn’t trust him in return.”
“Ah…” Yunho leaned back in his chair, resting the back of his head against its cushioned sweep. “Yoochun is someone who expects back what he gives. I would agree with that.”
“Right now…” Junsu fought to swallow the tincture of coppery pain in his mouth, the edges of his teeth aching from gritting his jaw shut. “Yoochun feels as if he gave me everything he was…and I cradled it in my hands and spat on it. That’s why he’s angry at me. And he has every right… I just wish it didn’t hurt as much as it does.”
Yunho looked up from the televised soccer match when the two friends came around the foyer wall, Jae pulling himself free of his lover’s new jacket. The leader absently patted the couch cushion next to him, his eyes moving back to the screen. Jaejoong debated walking away, unsure if he felt outrage at being summoned to Yunho’s side or happy that the young man wanted him at his side.
Tossing the jacket on the ottoman, Jaejoong sauntered into the kitchen, his rolling gait a whispering siren to Yunho’s lust.
Digging through the cabinets, Jae took his time looking for something small to eat, worriedly looking up as Junsu followed Yoochun into their bedroom, the soccer game forgotten. Opening a bag of shrimp chips with a tear of his teeth, Jaejoong padded back into the living room, sliding against Yunho’s body, tucking himself under the young man’s offered arm.
“Did you have a good time playing basketball?” Yunho stole a chip from the bag, crunching the salty fold in half, the rest pinned between his teeth.
“Please…Yunnie-ah.” Jae rolled his eyes, chewing at the edge poking out of Yunho’s mouth. “You and I both know that I wasn’t going to play basketball in the freezing cold. We went outside and ended up talking. We could have done that at the coffee shop. I could have been warm and had a cup of tea.”
“Did he tell you what they argued about?” Yunho tread cautiously. Relationships were new to both of them, their rules still undefined on what they shared between them or what they held in confidence for others.
“A little bit.” Jaejoong nodded. “Not a lot. I told him it wasn’t his secret to give me. And he agreed. Whatever Junsu did to him, Yoochun still loves him. Give them time. They’ll get over whatever it is.”
Junsu closed the door behind him, locking the world out with a final click. Yoochun turned, startled then defensive at the sight of the other standing at the end of their beds. His bare feet silent on the carpet, Junsu walked over to his friend, pushing at the baritone’s shoulder, shoving a silent Yoochun onto the mattress. Sliding over, Junsu rested his back against the wall, his legs covering Yoochun’s hips.
“I’m sorry.” Junsu stared down into his friend’s tear-ravaged face, the pain of his heart lingering at the surface of his skin. “I’m sorry I lied to you about… things.”
“It wasn’t things, Junsu.” The formality of Yoochun’s address stung but Junsu knew he deserved the icy tone, frigid and hard on his heart. “It was about you. You’re more than a thing to me.”
“I know.” The tenor admitted. Micky stared up at him, the hurt in his eyes a jagged edge. “I… was afraid at first. I’ll admit to fear. And then, I.. didn’t know how to tell you.”
“And when we were talking about Yunho and Jaejoong, you pretended as if you didn’t know or understand…” Micky said, hot despite the tangle of his fingers in Junsu’s. The baritone instinctively reached for his friend, seeking comfort amid the pain he held inside. It was second nature to touch the other, a brush of burnished heat as their skin rubbed or the soft murmur of Junsu’s hair against his chin. “You could have told me then that you had sex with another guy. That was the time, Junnie-ah. It would have been then.”
“I’ve not…done that, Chunnie-ah” Junsu lay next to his friend, cradled against Yoochun’s side, his hand captured in Yoochun’s grasp. Not wanting to break eye contact, Junsu moved in close, his voice a low whisper. “I wasn’t lying about that. I’ve never… gone any further than… touching…kissing. I’ve never fully had sex with another man. I didn’t lie to you about that. I just didn’t know how to tell you.. I honestly didn’t.”
“Yoochun, please.” Junsu entreated. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was just… I had to be careful until I knew you better and then, I found I couldn’t hurt you… because I knew you would be in so much pain. You trust so openly…and so rarely. You give me your soul every time you touch me and it felt good. I was afraid to lose that.”
“You would never lose my love, Susu-ah.” Micky reached up, holding Junsu’s face in the curve of his palm. The soft intimacy of the diminutive name warmed Junsu’s chest. “That’s what hurt me more than anything else… that you didn’t trust me enough to let me show you that I didn’t care. That you could tell me anything.. be anything and I would still be your friend.”
Bending over, Junsu imagined the kiss would be one he’d hold inside of his heart for his life. It was supposed to be a small thing, a shared intimacy to seal over the crazing he’d inflicted on Yoochun’s soul but then the taste of Yoochun in Junsu’s mouth made him realize the sun would burn down to a rock before he would give up that memory.
Sunlight poured over lemon kisses…sugared candy rolled in starlight… or the burst of a cherry blossom’s first scent in the wind as it spread its petals to the day… Junsu was sure Micky’s mouth held every drop of those tastes and an indescribable saffron richness in his velvety touch.
Shifting, Junsu spilled over Yoochun’s prone legs, hands clenched in Micky’s shirt. The smoothness of Yoochun’s fingers rubbed on Junsu’s waist, stretching up over the tenor’s ribs. Nearly breathless, Junsu refused to retreat, consuming every drop of the other man until his body ached with the heavy need spreading through his body. When his lungs were about to burst, the singer broke free, reluctantly gasping for air, licking at the lush swell of Yoochun’s mouth before taking another breath.
“Please forgive me for hurting you, Chunnie-ah.” The tenor heard the breaking plea in his voice, desperate to give anything not to lose the friendship he had. Silently swearing to forsake the mewling lust he felt for Micky, Junsu sent a prayer to whichever angel gifted wayward souls their deepest wishes. “I never meant it. I promise.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Susu-ah.” Micky’s hot whisper scorched into Junsu’s open mouth, their lips brushing with the faint movements of their heads. “I love you. Even when I’m angry at you. You’ll never lose that. I’ve given you that to hold forever.”