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.
One; Two; Three
Thunderstorms hugged Seoul’s skyline, sheets of pounding rain obscuring the view from the car’s windshield. Junsu peered out from behind the driver’s head, trying to see the road ahead of them. Winding through the tight traffic, the cab fishtailing as it hit a patch of iced over water. Yoochun grabbed at Junsu’s waist, holding the other against him, bracing for another car to sideswipe them.
“Ah, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu grinned up at his friend, nearly sideways on Yoochun’s lap. The baritone’s wide hands spanned his back, warm and strong against the rise of his rear. “Do you think it would be safer if we just got out and walked?”
“I think it would be safer if we got out and swam.” Yoochun rapped on the window, risking the danger of the driver turning about.
Micky thought they would be safer for it, hoping that the man would stop someplace that they could jump out. A few quick words slowed the cab down, a gush of water splashing onto the sidewalk as the tires screeched to a halt, failing to get traction on the wet road. The cab jumped against the curb, the frame rattling from the impact. Catching at the handle, Yoochun half-pushed and half-dragged the other singer from the back seat, tossing a handful of bills at the driver through the open passenger window.
Sprinting through the torrential downpour, they ran to an overhang, the dark windows of a closed restaurant offering little comfort other than shelter from the cold, bone-numbing rain. Micky’s hair ran iced from the rain, the pull of his jacket sheltering his head with little results. The edges of Junsu’s lips were turning blue, his teeth chattering despite the other taking the brunt of the wind. Shivering, the other singer pulled the lapels of his jacket closer about his throat, protecting the muscled column from the chill.
The cab disappeared under a wave of steam, its hot engine hit with a wash of water from another car’s tires. Not more than three feet away from the sidewalk, another car jostled into the empty space, striking the cab hard as it hydroplaned when its brakes locked up. Crinkling glass briefly overwhelmed the sound of the rain, falling back into the shush of water and the crackle of thunder. The sky lit up bright with the arcing fingers, lightning tickling and stroking at the clouds.
“We need to get you out of the cold, Susu-ah.” Yoochun shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping the warm material around his friend.
“You need your jacket, Chunnie.” Junsu’s refusal diminished under the rattle of his teeth as he spoke, the warm overcoat beaded with water, runnels peeling from the wool blend and dry beneath.
“Kim Junsu, for once in your life, just listen to me.” Yoochun pointed to a door of a small brick building, its discreet sign lit with a run of pale yellow neon. “That coffee shop is open. Let’s get something warm to drink and call the others to tell them we might not make it home.”
Jaejoong hung up his cell phone, cocking his head at the other man sitting on the couch. Yunho looked up from his sheet music, still sounding out his part in his throat, a deep hum as he worked through the notes. Frowning, the eldest reached for his tea, nearly tepid from being left on the coffee table. The porcelain mug retained a bit of the heat, the liquid inside dankly green and strong.
“What’s wrong, Joongie?” Yunho reached for his lover’s wrist, pulling Jaejoong towards him, the sheet music forgotten as it wafted to the floor. Careful not to slosh the contents of his cup, the singer slid around, nestling between his lover’s spread legs.
“Yoochun and Junsu had their driver pull over and they got out. Chunnie-ah said that it was too dangerous to let the man drive them. They didn’t feel safe.” Jaejoong sipped at the cold tea, making a face at its too bitter taste. Scraping his tongue against the rough of his teeth, Jae put the mug down, resting back on Yunho’s chest. “They’re going to wait out the rain and maybe get some place to stay.”
“Where are they?” Yunho frowned. “Did they ever make it to the club?”
“I don’t think so.” Jae brushed back Yunho’s hair, blowing a kiss along the ridge of his earlobe. “He said that he’d call to tell us when they someplace to stay or if they’re heading home. I’m glad they got out of the cab.”
“Good.” Yunho agreed, his fingers hooked into the back of Jae’s pants.
The night was nearly around to the crest, their voices rough from the past few weeks of performances and interviews, long hours spent dragging from place to place and then the cold rush of air pressurized from the airplane’s interior. Cuddled against him was the man he’d wanted to hold during those hard, lean times of insomnia and thin meals. Jaejoong sighed, wanting the night to last as long as it could, his tongue taking small licks of the skin along Yunho’s collarbone.
“Changmin…?” Jaejoong whispered low into the hollow of Yunho’s throat. He longed to taste the quiver of skin that moved under his fingers, a skittering reflex to his gentle, probing touch. Falling to the temptation, he licked with the tip of his tongue, moaning with pleasure at the shuddering response he got from Yunho’s body splayed beneath him.
“Studying? Asleep?” Yunho’s hands worked through Jaejoong’s hair, fisting at the back of his lover’s head as he pulled Jae up for a kiss. “I don’t care, Joongie-ah. Yoochun is right, If he learns about sex from us, then maybe that isn’t a bad thing. I am tired of hiding. We spent too long hiding these past few months. It about killed me to be so close to you and not being able to touch you. Heaven will be open to us because we’re living through hell now.”
“Yunho…” Falling into the dark seduction of his lover’s voice, Jaejoong filled the space between them with a rising heat, the tit of his head exposing the erotic length of his throat to Yunho’s mouth. He purred at the feel of Yunho’s teeth against his skin, the other singer tasting the delicate vanilla fragrance of the soap they shared.
“We should take this elsewhere… to our room…” Jaejoong began to protest until Yunho’s fingers undid the top button of his jeans, the rivet popping free of its confined space. His lengthening flesh made it difficult to concentrate, his lover’s fingers rubbing against the rough of his jeans stroking Jae nearly to weeping. “Yunnie…”
“I miss this couch.” Yunho grinned, dark and seductive. Jaejoong usually ran him ragged with just the barest skimming of his mouth or the run of his tongue along Yunho’s earlobe. Sliding his fingers down the crevice of Jaejoong’s rear, he tickled at the soft downy ridge dipping from the small of Jae’s back, the tender skin hot under the tip of his index. “I miss you on this couch.”
“Hyung.” Softly, the youngest called from the hallway, tentative steps taken over the hardwood floor. His long shadow cast down into the living room, the lights shining from behind Changmin’s head.
Jaejoong rested his head on Yunho’s chest, the velvet whiskey heat of his desire watered by the ice of Changmin’s inquisitive, plaintive call. Taking one last tiny bite of his lover’s throat, Yunho leaned his head back on the arm of the couch, letting the youth see his face and called out to Changmin to join them. Jae’s throaty growl rolled from the tight frustration in his chest and groin, his fingers struggling to find the button Yunho undid from his jeans. Fumbling, he straightened, barking his knee on the glass table.
“Are you busy?” Changmin stepped fully into the room, standing behind the arm chair.
“No,” Yunho intercepted Jaejoong’s quiet, hidden glare with a fierce pleading look, a muted argument squashed by the need in Changmin’s query. “Come sit down.”
“Actually, I was wondering if… Jaejoong…” The youth trailed his sentence off, biting at the end of his thumb. Worry troubled his face, a confusion of emotions run hard under the solidity of his thoughts. “Can I borrow Jaejoong for a while? I need to … ask something, hyung.”
“Me?” Jae was taken aback, the youngest’s slight nod bringing a pursed pout to his lips. “Sure… okay. I mean, Yunho is … much better to get advice from but…”
“I think you’ll be able to help me…understand a few things.” Changmin bowed his head apologetically at the leader. “No offense meant, hyung.”
“It’s okay.” Yunho pushed at the small of Jaejoong’s back, helping his lover right himself. “Why don’t you two stay here? There’s some music I want to listen to and Boo is just a distraction sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Jae lifted his eyebrows, shoving Yunho’s shoulders as he slid out from under Jaejoong’s body. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll bring you something from the kitchen.”
“Just bring yourself.” Yunho allowed himself one last lingering kiss, savouring the spice of Jae’s tongue on his own. Clasping Changmin on the shoulder, the leader headed back to the bedrooms, wondering if he had time for a cold shower.
Pulling his legs up, Jae tucked his feet under him, sliding back to rest against a pile of vibrant pillows. Making room for Changmin, he waited until the younger man made himself comfortable. Confusion fought with the need to talk, a flight of raw emotions battling for space in Changmin’s troubled eyes.
“What’s bothering you, dongsaeng?” The singer leaned forward, pressing a violet cushion into the hollow of his belly, his desire mewling at the loss of Yunho’s warmth. “Were we too loud?”
“No, I can barely hear you most of the time.” Changmin’s face coloured at the memory of the time he’d opened the bathroom door, accidentally left unlocked in Yunho’s haste to chase Jaejoong into the shower.
The steam hid most of their nudity but what he could see left little to his imagination, the leader’s hands roaming over the soap-slickened pale form of his lover, Jaejoong’s head tilted back, his black hair wetly clinging to the high sweep of his cheekbones. The singer’s vibrato moan and gentle urgings pushed a tightness into Changmin’s face, the rush of reactive desire tingling his nipples tight beneath the oversized t-shirt he preferred to sleep in.
He came to his senses a few seconds later, shocked nearly to speechlessness, shutting the door quietly behind him. Changmin gasped for cold air, running to the kitchen for an ice cube to suck on, hoping the frozen water would quench the unwelcome fire in his groin. He’d been unable to meet either hyungs’ eyes for the next few hours, his studies forgotten under the spooling memory of Jae’s white teeth sinking into Yunho’s tanned shoulder as the other man’s hands moved downward, stroking long caresses over unseen parts of Jaejoong’s trim body.
“No, you’re fine.” Changmin wondered if he could somehow put his hands over his burning cheeks, hoping Jaejoong wouldn’t mention the flush of red in his face. “It’s more… about love.”
“Love? Me?” Jaejoong puffed his cheeks, breathing out slowly. “I don’t know if I’m someone to ask about love. Your mother…?”
“This is different, hyung.” Serious, the youngest’s maturity shone in his face. Normally playful with the eldest of their group, he now looked to Jaejoong for advice… unsure of how to proceed with his feelings. “I have a problem and I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“I suppose it’s less about love…than it is…” Changmin pondered how to phrase his question. The delicate fronds of his affections confused him, a small tingle of desire amid the hard corners of his resolute mine. “I think I’ve fallen in love but the person I love… doesn’t see me.”
“Ah…” Jaejoong nodded, his thoughts scrambling for some foothold on sanity. Schooling his chaotic mind, he concentrated on what his nuna shared with him, the depth of Scarlet’s words muddled with the fire of Yunho’s touch lingering along the inside of his thighs. “What is she like?”
“She isn’t a she.”
Jaejoong exhaled hard, leaning back to stare at the young man. The pit of his belly dropped from his body, a stone thrown into the void of apprehension. He was assailed with images of Changmin’ tender heart, battered from the harsh words and hard fists of hatred striking their youngest. Swallowing his initial response of yelling some sense into Changmin’s head, Jaejoong stared hard at the youth, wondering how to sway him from a path Changmin had already set on.
“Changmin…” Jaejoong’s eyes widened. “God, you aren’t like that because of me, are you? I didn’t… do this to you, did I?”
The idea of his father being…right…horrified Jaejoong. Doubts flew into his heart, barbed darts dipped in past poisons and spreading an inky blackness through his blood. It nestled its ugly head into his soul, a tick bloated on bruised flesh and sour bitterness thrown like acid into his face. Yunho’s parents joined those voices, unheard condemnations slammed through the tiny punctures they’d left in the leader’s heart, his love spilling loose onto uncaring stones.
Had he poisoned the others with his perversions? Jae’s stomach burred, the green-sick taste of his bile burning up to scorch his tongue. A whispering qualm became a tsunami, winds carrying sharp pebbles striking his tender, damaged soul. Changmin’s confused look merely served to cement the fear lodging in Jaejoong’s throat.
“No, Jaejoong… no!” Changmin shook his head, clasping his hands over the other’s fingers.
“Changmin, I…” Paling under his mortification, Jae nearly pulled free from the touch, wondering how long before the others would discover he’d spread his predilections into the impressionable young man. “I’m sorry… I never wanted that for you. Please tell me that you’re…wrong… that you just got confused.”
“You sound like…” Min stopped from comparing Jaejoong to the Jungs or Kims, knowing his hot words would injure the singer irreparably. “I just have feelings for someone and I’m unsure… if I love them or just… need…want something from them…from him. It has nothing to do with your love for Yunho.”
“And it is love, Jaejoong.” Changmin insisted, pressing the flat of his hand on his elder’s chest, feeling Jae’s shuddering heart pound against his breastbone, the panic sending his body into a frenzy. “You do love Yunho. And he loves you. There’s nothing wrong with that. I knew that before… you two ever became one. I was taught that. My mother has always held that belief and showed me the truth of that. She is a very loving, caring person who has given me wisdom in following my heart.”
“I just… don’t want you to…” Jaejoong’s mind reeled with the remembrances of smashed in faces and broken bones jutting from slender limbs, blood washed daily from the cement floors of the club he’d worked. He couldn’t count how many times Trance served as a makeshift clinic for young men caught unawares by someone seeking sport or the violent release of self-loathing disguised as passion. “You’re so young…”
“I am tired of being treated like a child, hyung.” Changmin’s demeanor changed, the slant of his head tilting back to meet Jaejoong’s wide eyes. “You are always kind to me….respectful and I appreciate that. But Yunho hyung believes I’m a little boy and the other two see me as a little brother. But what you all forget is that I’m here besides you… having gone through the same trials and tests. I’ve earned my place to stand among you… I want to be treated as such.”
Jaejoong started forward, his voice low and consoling. “None of us think of you as a little boy…”
“You don’t.” Changmin agreed. “But the others, I know they do. It’s in every thing that they say and do. They don’t remember that I am the eldest in my family and that I am used to having those responsibilities. It rankles me when I am shoved behind or left to fade into the background. I have worked hard to be seen as your equal and instead I become something left over or forgotten.”
“I want Junsu to see me.” Hearing the tenor’s name fall from Changmin’s lips shocked Jaejoong, a dread creeping into him. Changmin continued, unmindful of the beleaguered groan Jae let out. “I want the world to see me. I didn’t join this group to be a postscript note in its success. And it’s killing me that I don’t have a place among you other than as the little brother…the cute one. I’m not cute, hyung. I am many things but I’ve never been the darling little boy that my mother would dress up to show off to her friends. I don’t expect to be that little boy here now.”
“Junsu?” Jaejoong swallowed his shock, trying to form a cohesive thought to share with the youth. “Our Junsu?”
“Jaejoong, is that so.. terrible?” Changmin pressed in.
“He’s…” The lead singer stopped himself before he confessed he’d seen Junsu as belonging to Yoochun, the amiable relationship between the two middle singers firm and solid amid the strife that ran rampant in their world. “I don’t think he’s the one for you.”
“Junsu isn’t interested in a long relationship.” The youngest admitted with a reluctant nod. “But I think he just hasn’t… explored what that could mean.”
“You’re too young for that.” Jaejoong grabbed at Changmin’s hands before the youth pushed away. “Let me … please. It’s not that you’re too immature.. it’s that… you’re still.. you’re not an adult yet. Do you know how much trouble Junsu would get into if he touched you? It’s bad enough that…”
“That we’re both men?” Min asked, his face hard with a repressed anger. “Do you still think like that, Jaejoong?”
“We have to. All of us. It’s not something that we can ignore because we want to, Minnie-ah.” Jae replied. “Please, think this through. You might just be attracted to Junsu because we’re all in tight quarters and he’s...”
“I know.” Min agreed, biting back his ire. “I’ve thought of that. But even if that were true…what difference would it make? I could say the same thing about you and hyung but you know in your soul that’s not true. I have to see if it’s like that for me.”
“Suppose it isn’t…final?” Or even something, Jaejoong wondered to himself… Junsu would consider doing.
The youngest member of their group was a child in years despite being more of a man in thought, much more than the others combined. Junsu’s flirtations often were automatic, a charismatic tease woven around seductive smiles and coy innuendo. Jae pondered how to break it to Changmin that the attentions he might have received were as easily shared by Junsu as breathing in air. The thought of Min’s tender feelings slammed on the shards of reality ached Jaejoong’s heart, unsure of how the youngest would take in that knowledge.
“I would have thought all people, you would be the one who would understand that I need to…explore this. To feel something for someone else.” Changmin breathed a sigh, exasperated at the elder’s reluctance to accept his needs. “Even if Junsu doesn’t do anything other than hurt me, I need to do this. Because there’s the chance that I’m the one to show him that love is a forever thing. I want what you have, hyung. I think I deserve to try for it.”
“I’ll look for advice elsewhere, hyung.” Changmin briefly hugged Jaejoong to him, clasping the older man then smiling gently, wiping at the worry on Jae’s face with the flat of his thumb. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Fuchsia. That was the colour that came to Junsu’s mind. Followed by magenta and then back to a rose pink, his first thought when the steaming glass tea pot was placed before him. Uncaring of the hue, he poured out the fragrant fruity liquid and inhaled its aroma, letting the heat reach down into his lungs.
A smoky voice breathed a tidbit of a song from behind the stage to the side of their table, husky and longing for a man to ease her pain. Distracted from his tea, Junsu looked up as the black curtains pulled back, a sultry bodied woman slinking onto the boards, her long black hair striking against the pale stretch of her bared shoulders.
Micky followed his friend’s stare, whistling under his breath at the woman’s beautiful face, a fragile delicate pour of bone and ripe lushness. Her voluptuous body encased in a sea-mist haltered sheath twinkling with tiny rhinestones curving over her waist and breasts, moved in a graceful saunter, a golden anklet peeking out from the tight slit running up to the bottom swell of her hip. It wasn’t until the light caught the edge of her face did Micky see the slight swell of a bump along her throat, the barest of shadows stunning his arousal to a meek whimper.
“Susu-ah!” Micky hissed as the singer poured his tea, nearly overfilling the cup. Smiling in thanks at his friend’s warning, Junsu went back to listening to the woman standing on stage, her contralto voice dripping low seduction to the people sitting at her feet. “Junnie! I think that’s a guy.”
Cocking his head, Junsu stared up at the singer, assessing her long, lean body. Subtle hints lent weight to Yoochun’s revelations, the breadth of her wrists and the square set of her fingers. Shrugging, Junsu sipped at the tea, savouring the sweet juiciness of its flavour. “Does it matter, Chunnie-ah? The tea is warm, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves and she sings well.”
“I didn’t think…” Yoochun looked around, unsure what he’d expected a cross-gendered club to look like. “I didn’t know…”
The décor was understated, a sleek elegance reflected in the entertainer sashaying through her song. Dim lighting splashed intimate golden glows over each table, quiet and efficient waiters serving the customers with a respectful silence of carefully placed crockery, keeping the rattle of porcelain from interfering with the talent’s singing. Several couples sat near them, a few men with their arms around their dates’ shoulders, the women now suspect in Yoochun’s eyes. He was caught peering closer at a young-faced matron sitting nearby, her beefy faced companion frowning menacingly at the baritone.
“Did she turn you on?” Junsu whispered into Yoochun’s ear, sliding the teacup handle into the other’s chilled fingers. The tenor moved his chair over, nesting his legs against Yoochun’s. The black and white checkered tablecloth hid their legs, Junsu’s hand brushing on the rough wallpaper plastered behind them before resting on the high back of Yoochun’s chair. “That’s not something to be ashamed of. She’s gorgeous. A much better woman than any we’ve seen in a long time.”
“It’s just that… she’s not real.” Yoochun kept his voice low, a shush of shocked surprise fragrant with a sip of the cranberry-orange tea.
“She’s as real as any other woman that you might meet, Yoochun.” Junsu’s easy shrug dismissed the differences. “Regardless of how she was born, she knows what she wants. Isn’t that more important in a person than just having them flitter at you saying only what you want to hear?”
“And admit it, Yoochun, you found her attractive until your brain realized that she was a boy.” Junsu pointed out. “Would that really matter if she were the one who you found out was the person in that rain forest love nest of yours?”
“Yes…”Chun shook his head loose of the confusion in his thoughts, the stroke of Junsu’s fingers along the nape of his neck adding to the mess. “I think if I found the soul I wanted… If I for some reason found myself falling in love with a man, I would think I’d want him to be.. a man. What would be the purpose of…? I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.”
“You’re funny, Chunnie.” Junsu teased, bending closer to kiss his friend on the corner of his quizzical mouth. “If you fell in love with her, wouldn’t you want her to be who she felt like she needed to be? And not something that you felt she should be?”
“Did you know that this place was like this?” Yoochun shot his friend a suspicious look, slanted smoldering eyes dark beneath his long lashes. The curl of his hair ran shots of coppery fringe over Junsu’s fingers where the other stretched his hand up under Yoochun’s skull ridge.
“I didn’t but it doesn’t bother me.” The other replied. “Sometimes it’s good to experience new things. So this is something new. Just enjoy it. There’s no harm in being here. And answer me, tell me if it’s right or wrong to want someone to change for you.”
“Wrong.” Yoochun said, his eyes trailing back up to the woman’s face. He could imagine the sadness in her voice coming from the loss of a lover who discovered her secrets, throwing her self-image into a damaging fire of spewed virulence. Jaejoong sometimes spoke of times when he’d felt the hurt of his parent’s rejection, unable to turn away from his desire for men, wishing sometimes that he could if only to feel the comfort of family so deeply ingrained into their culture. Nodding, Yoochun whispered, sliding his hand over Junsu’s thigh, clasping the young man’s muscle in a firm grip. “It would be wrong of me to want her to change. I wouldn’t ask that if I truly loved her. You’re right in that, Susu. But you’re not talking about love, remember? Love for you isn’t forever. You want to just be in lust.”
“Sometimes, a little sin is fun, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu’s breath grew moist, the lick of his tongue on Yoochun’s earlobe a tickling sensation along the other’s nerves. Chuckling at Yoochun’s mocking surprise at the caress, he leaned back and sipped at his tea, his hand remaining at the base of Yoochun’s neck. “Tell me you wouldn’t be curious… or at least wanting to know what it was like… to try to be as bad as they say you are.”
“You’re dangerous to know, Junsu.” Yoochun shook his head, feeling the dampness clinging to his scalp. They’d shed their jackets, too warm under the heaters. The sheerness of his shirt was clear from the spreading pools of translucence where the rain soaked him through to his skin. “You sometimes make me want to do things I know I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t want to know sin this intimately.”
“Sometimes?” The other scoffed, sarcastic in his derision. “If only sometimes, then I must be losing my touch.”
Yoochun shifted, uncomfortable in his chair. His body responded quickly to Junsu’s touch, the sultry tones of an erotic, sexy song blew on the embers of his want, a dislodged and misplaced desire for the other’s hands and mouth. He’d spun hard, drawn to Junsu’s easy smile, a hapless moth to a flame that burned too bright and uncaring. The ease of his friend’s flirting was a familiar taunt, a hard reminder that Yoochun was one of the many caught in the captivating enigma of Junsu’s web.
Last night, as the tenor lay against him, asleep and dreaming, Yoochun stared down into Junsu’s face, whispering a touch over the other singer’s face with just the tip of his finger. He’d traced the man’s mouth, gasping a small mewl when the tenor instinctively parting his lips and suckling at the first joint with a noisy hunger. His tongue was hot on Yoochun’s palm, licking down along the webbing before retreating back into the moist promise of Junsu’s mouth, the tenor turning around and cradling the plush bunny to his chest.
That mouth was so close to his own, Yoochun thought, the kiss of their shared tea leaving a plump clear cranberry drop on Junsu’s lower lip. The confusion had set in. A sunburst of want warred with the knowledge that this man… a man… who was his friend and beloved in his heart raked open the lust Yoochun normally felt for a woman. Nothing seemed more fascinating than the touch of Junsu’s tongue to that drop, Yoochun wanting to chase the moisture back into the dark warmth he knew was hidden in Junsu’s mouth.
Swallowing a mouthful of tea, Yoochun nearly choked when Junsu spoke quietly, a low rumble of a suggestion falling into the barren bowl of Yoochun’s mind. The other’s hands were moving, never still, either in the air or over the hot length of Yoochun’s taut-nerved body.
“Let’s find someplace that we can dance together, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu met his friend’s eyes, a sloe-eyed desire ripened to a seductive crawl through Yoochun’s impure thoughts. “I want to show you what it’s like to throw everything that people expect of men to the wind. I’ll show you how to break every single rule that your mind tells you should be followed where sin is concerned. Let me teach you how to sin, Chunnie-ah.”