Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating: NC-17 (HEAVY LEMON-LIME WARNING)
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
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; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen
Yoochun lay back in his bed, the covers pulled up over his hips. Listening to the sounds of the shower from the bathroom he shared with Junsu, he drifted on the fatigue of his body, the long day spent singing, interviewing colliding with the tentative exhilaration of the evening’s date. His briefs felt too tight on his body, a result more of his mind wandering over to where he imagined could imagine Junsu washing the soap bubbles from his legs.
“What are you thinking about?” Junsu asked, coming into the room. He’d dressed in a pair of boxers before leaving the bathroom, more for his own sanity than any concern about Yoochun’s lascivious stares.
“You.” Yoochun replied. He turned over onto his side, backing up against the wall. Junsu kneeled on the edge of the other’s bed, his feet brushing his own bed. The tenor pursed his mouth into a sexy pout, exaggerating Jaejoong’s sensuality. “Now you look silly doing that.”
“I don’t know how he does it and not look silly.” Junsu wrinkled his nose, trying to jut out his lower lip. “I just end up looking like a carp searching for food.”
“It’s because Joongie-ah isn’t serious when he does it.” Micky said. “He’s usually only playing.”
“I can’t tell you what movie we watched.” Junsu admitted, shoving the hair back from his face. The cherubic innocence he affected had been left outside of their apartment, a young man confident in his abilities and the cockiness of a youthful arrogance in his smile.
“Iris.” Yoochun traced through a water drop on Junsu’s chest, lightly catching the areole with a rake of his nail. “Now I’m going to have to see it again to find out how it ends.”
“Aish, Micky.” Junsu’s breath shortened, the brush of Yoochun’s fingers on his side catching him unaware. “Bed, remember? Just sleeping. You made me promise and now... you’re doing this to me? At least for two weeks. You touching me.. makes me... crazy and makes me want... more.”
“Do you think we’re going to last two weeks?” Yoochun murmured, bending forward and ghosting a breath across Junsu’s belly. “Just seeing you makes me want to ... see what we can do to each other.”
Water drops glistened along the singer’s toned stomach, small moist stars on a golden sky. Micky tasted a tiny dewdrop, scented lavender from Junsu’s soap and honeyed from the erotic texture of the young man’s skin. Moving his hands down to Junsu’s hips, Yoochun fell into sweetness of licking at the constellations beading under the other’s navel, a thirst growing in his throat with each suckling spot covered with his mouth.
Having never tasted another man before, Yoochun first gulped at the moisture then as his body grew heavy and thick with desire, he slowed to leisurely explore the offering under his tongue. Junsu’s soft moan and the feel of fingers along Micky’s scalp encouraged Yoochun to continue, his teeth finding just the hint of a ridge trailing down from Junsu’s belly button.
“I want to try this.” Micky said, a whispered plea crawling out of his eros-shrouded pride. “Let me... just see how you are.”
“God, yes.” Junsu responded, his spine arched back in anticipation of Yoochun’s mouth.
The first dip of Yoochun’s finger threatened to tear the elastic from Junsu’s slender waist, the tenor’s protesting cry reminding Micky of their pledge. A danger of falling straight into the physical of their relationship threatened the balance of their friendship, both headstrong in their own ways, focused on a goal and sometimes neglecting the velvety comfort of leisure. Junsu remained adamant in securing enough time for their bond to grow, not wanting Yoochun to become a disposable habit, as their other relationships often turned out to be. Yoochun agreed with the reasoning in his mind but the fire coursing over his body had other thoughts of its own.
Spanning Junsu’s ribs, Yoochun’s lips followed the curve of a muscle down Junsu’s side, pulling his attention down to the other’s slender hips. Responding warmth promised succor beyond the slack of Junsu’s boxers, the fabric slightly strained as his passion for Micky’s touch increased. One of Yoochun’s hands wandered, dangerously curving over the cusp of Junsu’s backside, cupping at the hard muscles dimpled from years of dancing. A trailing kiss along the elastic of the tenor’s boxers ground another tight moan from Junsu’s chest, the young man swaying as he closed his eyes, letting the sensation of Yoochun’s tongue pull him spiraling down into a velvet darkness.
“You taste...so good.” Yoochun murmured, his words frosted with Junsu’s musk. Micky felt the weeping response of his sex pulsating between his legs, his hip firm on the mattress. He wanted nothing more than to pull Junsu onto the bed, taking the night to explore every inch of flesh the young man was willing to give him but they’d promise... time to one another, a vow Micky was learning to regret.
He remembered the terrorized pain in Jaejoong’s eyes on the night that Yunho’s angered lust overriding the loving tenderness the leader had shown up to that point. That bruising pain had a familiar home in Jae’s eyes, a long time resident hidden behind a hard shell. Junsu’s eyes held no such anguish, just the joy of experiencing life with an open and accepting heart.
Yoochun would be damned if he was the first one to leave the stain of doubt and pain on Junsu’s soul.
“Chunnie...” Junsu strangled the air in his throat, trying to form his lover’s name. The finality of their...bond struck home in that instant. He would never want to give up... the potent eroticism of Yoochun’s mouth on him, however...wherever the other might touch... the feel of it was heady and powerful. Junsu wondered if he would have the same control... that maddening seductive purr of touch... Yoochun’s body.
An answer that came when Junsu reached forward to touch the soft skin of Yoochun’s inner thigh and the young man pushed his hips forward, needing the contact as if their passion was a rain on parched desert sands. The flesh there felt smooth, nearly soft and downy. Junsu imagined kissing there, wondering if the powdery musk of sex lingered so close on the pale stretch of skin or if it held the caramel scent of Yoochun’s lips.
Yoochun’s fingers found the soft tip of Junsu’s sex, its moistness beading just at the pout of its head. Tucked under the silk of his boxers, Junsu gasped at the sliding feel of the material over his body, a cocoon of heat formed as Micky’s hand closed over the end. Stroking softly, Yoochun coaxed Junsu’s passion with his fingers before touching carefully at the bulb with the edge of his tongue, wetting the fabric with the remnants of water drops stolen from Junsu’s stomach and the moistness of his own mouth.
“I can taste... you through...” Yoochun lost words, the first sting of salty-sweet on his tongue.
The flavour of Junsu’s body surprised him, sticky wet and pungently firm. Mingled with his own spit, Micky pushed the purloined flavours onto the roof of his mouth, spreading it over onto his tongue. Spice lay there, a heat reminiscent of the clove cigarettes he coveted. There was a hint of sin... more than a spoonful of temptation and an entire universe of love, a gift of stars exploding in the back of his throat as Yoochun reluctantly allowed the taste to flow into his body.
“I need to...” Junsu whispered, bending around Yoochun’s shoulders and kissing at the dapple of light freckles barely visible at the base of Micky’s spine. Wrapped down over the other’s body, Junsu kissed and nipped at the spot, fulfilling the want of tasting.
His teeth raked at the spot, pulling harder and biting firmly into Yoochun’s back as the baritone laved through the weave of Junsu’s boxers. A bloom of purple formed, unfurling along the ridge of Yoochun’s spine with each hard nip of Junsu’s teeth. Micky hissed against the flat of Junsu’s thigh, his forehead pressed sideways against the curve of the tenor’s heat, panting hard before drawing another sip from Junsu’s body.
The feel of Yoochun’s mouth around the rigid head of Junsu’s sex, the sensitive tip rubbed tense from the tingling nerves that bundled and clenched under Micky’s laving. Yoochun found the firm line of a vein pulsing around Junsu’s length, following the path back down to the crux of the tenor’s thighs then back again, unhurriedly roaming each inch he found hidden from him. Junsu’s hands kneaded the back of Yoochun’s neck, guiding him with gentle fingers while Junsu’s rough hoarse murmurs rubbing raw desire on Yoochun’s soul.
Under Micky’s tongue, Junsu lost control of his body, a spasm racking through his muscles. Straightening, Junsu thrust his hips forward, rocking slowly against the brush of Yoochun’s mouth, wanting to delve deeper into the hot chamber but prevented by the restrictive material around his hips. Sighing, Junsu gripped at Yoochun’s shoulders, digging deep into the muscles stretched taut by Micky’s firm grasp.
Cradling the singer in tight against his body, Yoochun gently arranged a replete Junsu onto the bed besides him, slowly stroking circles on the tenor’s abdomen as the other leaned into Yoochun’s shoulder. Gasping aloud, Junsu breathed a final sigh, the trembling thin pluck of his nerves running a bold copper taint through his body. Junsu hurt with the intense pleasure, nearly weeping as the final spasm of release grabbed at his guts, his hips twitching and aching with the ghost of Yoochun’s touch lingering along his body.
“Fuck.” Junsu breathed, unable to catch any air into his tortured lungs. He’d not realized the breath in his chest had gone stale, forgotten and trapped under the lure of Yoochun’s pleasuring. Now, depleted of oxygen, he gasped, struggling to gain control of the tremors in his limbs, wondering if he would ever be able to see without the criss-cross stars of his spilled desire in his vision.
“You okay, Junnie-ah?” Yoochun’s worried look made Junsu grin, the wonderment of sensations still flowing through his loins.
“I’m more than fine, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu ached, reaching for Yoochun’s waistband then frowning when the other shook his head and clasped his fingers over Junsu’s wrist. “Let me. Equal, remember?”
“I lost…” Yoochun grinned, bashful as he snugged up against his lover, exhaustion claiming him. “As soon as I had you on my tongue, my body gave in. You took care of me more than once. I think I owe you more.”
“God no.” Junsu tangled his arms about Yoochun’s waist, his lashes brushing Micky’s cheek. “I won’t be able to survive more. You touch me again and I don’t think I’ll have any left in my body but gel. You make me… feel alive and then, it’s like I kissed the stars. No, definitely not touching me again tonight.”
“Okay.” Yoochun gave Junsu a final kiss, taking the other’s breath away with the taste of their bodies blended firm and sweet in Micky’s mouth. “But we’ll just have to start this all over again tomorrow.”
Bending over, lightly pulling from Junsu’s grasp, Micky bit hard on the rise of Junsu’s hip bone, leaving a dark welt forming on the skin. Jumping slightly, Junsu hissed with the sharp pain, his eyes wide with shock when Yoochun returned to cuddle him tight.
“What was that for?” The tenor rubbed at the spot, the mark of Yoochun’s teeth ripening the flesh with a hot burn.
“That’s so I remember where I left off…so I can find it tomorrow.” Yoochun clasped his hand over Junsu’s fingers, guiding the other to the small of his back. An echoing heat ran a swath over the baritone’s spine, rises of bruised marks dappling the area. “That’s where you left off. I think it’s only fair that I mark you so I can remember. Equal… in everything, Junsu. Very much equal.”
A warm spot was all there was of Yunho, Jaejoong’s arm reaching for his lover in a slumberous embrace and finding emptiness instead. Six months ago, he would have panicked, his heartbeat racing and foul thoughts of abandonment hooking poisoned claws into his mind but now, Jaejoong sleepily wondered what drew Yunho out of the cozy warmth of their shared bed.
Reaching for the pull of a nightstand lamp, Jaejoong lit a golden glow near their bed. The green tea scent of Yunho’s cologne drew him towards one of the feather pillows, his lover’s warmth slowly fading from its cotton case. Grabbing the soft pillow, Jae tucked his chin into its comfort, waiting for Yunho to rejoin him.
“Hey Boo.” Yunho slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. Padding to the edge of their bed, the young man climbed in behind Jaejoong, spooning the other after kissing Jae between the shoulder blades. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I had to use the bathroom then I thought I’d make sure that Changmin went to bed. I saw a light on under his door.”
“It’s late.” Jae glanced at the analog clock on the wall, the early morning hours barely into the single digits. The night outside was thick with darkness, the city asleep beyond. “Did you send him to sleep?”
“He was passed out on his bed. I marked the book he was reading and turned off his light.” Yunho smiled, his face hidden in the wealth of Jaejoong’s hair. “I was nearly back to our bed before I realized I’d forgotten to go to the bathroom.”
“Our sheets thank you.” Jaejoong curved his hands over Yunho’s forearms, stroking at the golden hairs lightly covering the other’s skin. “Well, me too.”
“It’s so quiet outside.” The leader nested tighter against his lover, listening to the beat of Jaejoong’s heart against his own chest.
They’d collapsed into bed that evening, Jaejoong’s headache worked loose but leaving him groggy. Yunho’s weariness challenged his every step, barely able to stumble into the shower where the hot water pulled fatigue from him long enough for Yunho to gather food for their dinner. Changmin’s help with their meal was welcome, Yunho’s cooking skills were poor compared to the rest of the group. Sliced vegetables and meats over purple rice cheered Jaejoong immensely, Yunho’s offer of a simple meal rewarded with a long, simmering kiss from the sensual young man he’d fallen in love with. Bed soon followed, the dishes left soaking for the morning, the leader waving Changmin off to his own bed.
“I heard a shower.” Yunho said softly, feeling sleep tugging gently at his mind. “The other two are home. No blood on the floor or any punched walls so I’m guessing that things are okay between them.”
“Good.” Jae whispered. The heat of Yunho’s body made him sleepier but the comfort of the other against him made him reluctant to fall back into slumber. “I worried about Chunnie-ah. His heart is so… soft. Junsu sometimes cuts without realizing he’s holding a knife.”
“There seems to be a lot of pain when someone falls in love.” Yunho sighed. “Everything you read or watch says that love is this sparkling happy time when there are roses blooming under your feet. What they don’t show is when you are so angry over something stupid like your lover picking the onions out of his food that you spent hours making.”
“I did not pick any onions out of my food.” Jae sniffed then grinned at Yunho’s teeth sinking lightly into the nape of his neck. “You’re the one who picks things out. Mushrooms, squash… and mung beans. Who doesn’t like mung beans?”
“Sometimes I just don’t want them.” Yunho defended himself, licking at the spot he’d bitten. “Besides, you love mushrooms. More for you.”
A trill of a song played from the night stand, the instrumental behind Jae’s section vibrating the cell phone. Grimacing, Jae reached for the phone, handing it over to Yunho. Frowning, the young man took it from his lover, concern on his handsome face. The singer blanched at the calling number, an expression shared by the leader. Yunho’s stomach clenched in fear, flipping the cell open as Jae turned over onto his back, his hand resting on Yunho’s chest, anticipating bad news.
“Hello?” Yunho answered. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry to call so late.” Mrs. Jung’s voice was soft, apologetic and blurred from lack of sleep. “I just needed to see how you were doing. I couldn’t… I saw you on a broadcast and all I could think was that you looked so… worn. And then, here I call you… so late. I’m sorry, Yunho, I wasn’t thinking…”
“It’s okay, umma.” Yunho reassured his mother. “I was just concerned because it’s late. Are you alright?”
The diminutive affection made Jaejoong smile, hearing the love in his boyfriend’s voice. Resting his cheek on Yunho’s shoulder, he motioned towards the door, asking Yunho if the leader wanted him to leave. Yunho shook his head, his hand clasped firmly on Jaejoong’s hip. Yunho missed what his mother said, the whispering feminine voice hard to hear through the phone speaker.
“I’m sorry, umma.” Yunho stroked along Jae’s cheek, leaving a kiss on his lover’s forehead before continuing. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Mrs. Jung said. “Or Kim Jaejoong. I’m assuming…”
“No, both of us were up.” Yunho steeled himself for a conflict, his body tensing under Jae’s touch. The singer leaned in tight, wrapping his arm around Yunho’s waist, holding him close.
“I’m not…interrupting anything.” Yunho could swear he heard his mother blush through the phone, her hesitant voice nearly a match for his own when he spoke to Junsu that evening. “I… oh…”
“No, I just was checking on the house.” The young man replied. “I’m afraid I woke Jaejoong so we were just talking a bit. Did you just call to make sure I was okay? Or for something else?”
“I… wanted to meet with you.” She said. “With both of you.”
“No, I didn’t tell him…anything.” Mrs. Jung answered. “I miss you, Yunnie. I want to see my son. I don’t want to have to choose between my son and my husband. I… gave birth to you. I carried you and took care of you when you were… so sick. You depended on me for so long and now, I look around for the young man I raised and he’s not there. It… is a painful thing to experience. It is worse than if you died.”
“You made that choice, umma.” Yunho reminded her softly. “I never closed the door to you. You decided to do that when you wouldn’t leave it open wide enough for Jaejoong.”
“I know. I was…wrong.” His mother’s quiet sob broke Yunho’s heart. Shutting his eyes against the pain of his mother’s anguish, Yunho’s soul was lifted by the gentle brush of Jae’s lips on his mouth. When he was able to, he met his lover’s gaze, thanking whichever heaven decided to allow him to have his very own angel. “I just miss… having you in my life, Yunho. It’s too hard.”
“What do you want to do, Mother?” Yunho’s eyes stung but he refused to allow the tears to fall, yanked free from his sorrow. Jaejoong held his heart now, the gentle fierce soul both a comfort and a shield from the world.
“I want to see you.” The woman said, softly. “I’m in Seoul. I told your father… I was coming to see a friend. Are you still a friend, my son?”
“Always.” Yunho promised, his aching soul reaching out for his lover’s. The brushing placation of Jae’s presence soothed Yunho’s pain. “But…”
“I know… I want you to bring Jaejoong with you.” She said, a whispering consolation that eased Yunho’s bundled anguish. “I should get to know… your… what do I call him?”
“Lover… boyfriend.” Yunho grinned at his mother’s slight discomfort. Her searching tone for some reason lightened their mood, a wash of humour in his voice. “Sometimes a few other words my mother shouldn’t know that I say.”
“Your father is often…those words.” His mother’s smile could be heard, even through the crackle of their phone line. “I am at the hotel. Can you meet me there? Tomorrow some time?”
“Let me check with Jae…if he wants to come and what time.” Yunho pressed the mute button, about to ask his lover when Jaejoong pressed his fingertips over the leader’s lips.
“I would follow you any where, love.” Jae said. “Into the fires of Hell if you needed me. Any time. Any where.”
“Thank you, baby. I can’t even tell you how much I love you.” Yunho sucked lightly on Jae’s fingers.
“Get off the phone.” Jae nibbled at the column of Yunho’s neck. “And you can show me how much.”
“Any time, umma.” Yunho replied. He listened briefly and agreed to a time, shutting the phone after he said goodbye. Leaning over Jaejoong’s prone body to place the cell on the table, Yunho remained lying on his lover’s lean frame, covering the young man with his own body. “I do love you, Boo. You make everything in this world… just so much better. I’m glad you’re mine. Remember that.”
“I do remember that…” Jaejoong’s hands wandered, finding the waistband of Yunho’s loose cotton pants, undoing the drawstring holding them up. “So long as you remember that you’re mine as well. You talk too much, Yunnie-ah. Your mouth should be doing other things. There are spots on my body that miss your tongue. I’ll point them out for you.”