Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating: R
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
NOTE! I will NOT be posting tomorrow (my saturday). I will resume on SUNDAY. ALSO... more importantly, Lavender Bunny will only have two more sections (maybe three) after this section. ONLY TWO MORE. I will post the final section as the end piece. a pdf will be made available following its completion. AND NO, I don't know when I'll be writing the Min Piece :)
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; Fifteen; Sixteen; Seventeen; Eighteen; Nineteen; Twenty; Twenty-One; Twenty-Two
Junsu leaned forward, his eyes rapt and shining as he listened to the crowd roar around him. Secluded, the box afforded them privacy but its glass front gave them a view he’d never imagined he would have. Yoochun leaned back in the soft tilting chair, his eyes more focused on his lover than the grassy field below. A cheering chant rose from the crowd, the Japanese nearly lost in the kraken of Yoochun’s thoughts, the afternoon sun making him drowsy despite sleeping in that morning.
Micky wasn’t sure which side Junsu was cheering for, but baseball was something they...and most of the Japanese populace... could agree on. The time off was a godsend in Yoochun’s mind, their bodies and souls needing some distance from the hectic life they lived. Hooking an arm over Junsu’s chair, he leaned into his lover’s side, taking a nibble on the other’s earlobe.
Junsu patted at Yoochun’s leg, a distracted show of affection intended mostly to tell the other singer that he was aware of Micky’s presence but the game held him enraptured. Yoochun grinned, not taking offense at the half-hearted attempt, knowing his lover viewed sports like he viewed sex, a fully involved exercise requiring all of the body and mind. Picking up the bottle of soda he’s snagged from the wet bar, Yoochun sipped at the cool liquid and turned his attention to the crowd.
The booth was a boon for the couple, accessible only to the two of them barring any requests they might make of the staff, either for more food or something else to drink. Glancing back at the spread of delicacies, Yoochun couldn’t imagine needing to eat more, wondering if they could somehow pack it all up to take back with them to the hotel.
Another chant started up, drawing Yoochun back to the crowd. As many women were enthusiastic as the men, packs of girls clustered together in seats and giggling, a rousing gaggle of femininity among the more masculine shouts. Junsu’s screaming nearly shocked Yoochun the first time, the tenor standing and yelling enthusiastically as one of the runners rounded third base.
“Oh this is fun.” Junsu settled back down, stretching his legs out.
A brush of pink dotted Junsu’s nose, the sun’s rays burnishing his golden skin. An ache through his cheeks was easily rubbed at, his laughter leaving him tired but happy. Leaning sideways, hidden behind the overhang, Junsu touched Yoochun’s mouth with his lips, his tongue plying at the other’s moistness and stealing a taste. Sighing again, content and fully satisfied with the day, Junsu reached upwards to work the kinks out of his shoulders.
“I’m glad we’re able to do this.” Yoochun nodded. “It’s just... normal. We don’t get to do normal a lot.”
“No,” Junsu agreed. “And it’s nice to just be able to go see a game or walk around. Remind me to get something nice for Changmin and Jaejoong. A thank you present for getting too sick to work.”
“We all needed a break.” Micky said, hooking his fingers over Junsu’s hand, taking the opportunity to touch the young man while he was aware of Yoochun’s presence.
“Did you go to a lot of baseball games when you lived in America?” Junsu asked. “You never really talk about what it was like back there.”
“Mostly, alone.” Yoochun murmured. “None of us spoke English and it was hard to make friends. I spent a lot of time wandering around or making music. And I had my brother. Now I worry about him because he’s alone there, and maybe having a hard time because I’m not there.”
“But I don’t regret coming.” Micky’s voice softened, his hands gathered up in Junsu’s grasp. Ducking his head, the baritone worked out how he felt, never truly wanting to examine how he felt. “For the longest time, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. In Seoul, sometimes I feel like I’m not Korean enough and back with my family, I wasn’t enough of an American. The members are really my touchstone. It’s like I have an...identity when I am with all of you. You’ve become my home, my country and my religion.”
“I’m sorry your family is so far away.” Junsu rested his cheek on Yoochun’s, his lips tasting the tears the other man let fall. “I wish you could see them more often.”
“Me too.” Yoochun sniffed, breathing hard to get his emotions under control. “I have you...and the others. Jaejoong has always been... a big help. I think it’s because he knows what its like to be alone when people are all around you. Different from me but it is the same feeling. We talk about it sometimes. Or we avoid it. We’re good at avoiding it, mostly.”
“I’m glad that he’s there for you.” Junsu smiled at Yoochun’s askance look, the baritone’s dark eyes glistening with wetness. “Okay, I admit, I didn’t always like that he was there but really, now I realize that he was the one person you could pour your sorrow into.”
“You’re someone I pour my laughter into.” Yoochun reassured his lover. “Jaejoong washes his soul of my sorrow. My laughter I want you to keep forever.”
“That’s a very easy thing to do.” The tenor chuckled. “We have so much of it.”
“You give as much as you take!” Yoochun leaned back, his grin wide over his face. The cheering began again as the home team took the field, dots of blue and white on the green turf. “Stealing mine when you have your own.”
“Your laughter tastes better.” Junsu sniffed indignantly. “I am a man of discriminating tastes. A laugh... connoisseur. I only choose to collect the best.”
“Hah!” Yoochun pushed at the other lightly, his palm making a small slapping sound. “You’re a peasant. You take everything and giggle like a drunken monk at a peep show. You don’t know what discriminating means.”
“Watch the game, infidel.” Junsu snorted, returning Yoochun’s slap with one of his own. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“Jung-san.” One of the band’s Japanese staff approached Yunho as he carted up boxed lunches to their rooms, the middle-aged man bowing slightly with his head down. Taken aback by the odd courtesy of an elder addressing him so formally, Yunho barely had time to nod in return before the man rose up, offering a brown manila packet for the leader to take.
“The manager said that it is not fan mail but something that was sent from your family. It has been following behind you for a while and has only now caught up. He said that you would want it immediately.” The staff member said, giving another bow that brought Yunho down again, the bottom of the bag brushing the carpeted floor. “If you would like, I will help you take the food up for you.”
“No, I’m fine.” Yunho took the package, the paper crinkling in his hand. Tucking it under his arm, he bowed and thank the staff member profusely, hoping he could escape before any of the other members of their entourage caught up with him.
The smell of the ramen made Yunho’s mouth water, the enclosed elevator intensifying the aromas until he nearly broke under the hunger he’d nursed in his belly. Setting the bag down in the hallway, he opened the door to the suite, calling out for Changmin to help him.
Nearly done coughing, Min shuffled toward the older man, his slender body swathed in his favourite pajamas. Housekeeping nearly fell over themselves in providing the youngest freshly washed night clothes, one of the maids overhearing Min’s comment that the soft thin flannel made him feel better inside, despite the aches of his body. Since then, the housekeeping staff returned the night clothes whenever they appeared in the laundry, Changmin’s effusive delight bringing a beaming smile to the older woman who take care of their suites.
“Ah, are they clean again?” Yunho nodded towards the flannel, leaning over to sniff at the powder fresh clothes. “They spoil you.”
“I know.” Changmin nodded, his nose slightly red from the tissues he used. “I like staying here. Whenever we come to Japan, they take care of me. I always feel like I am at home. They love me more than you. Maybe not as much as they love Jaejoong but more than you.”
“Here, take your noodles, brat.” Yunho found the miso ramen Changmin ordered, handing the youngest the container and a selection of pickles. “There’s dessert in there too. Something not too sweet because the last thing I want to deal with is you full of sugar.”
Changmin wandered off to his own room, cradling the bowl of noodles against his belly. Yunho picked up the bag and went to go find Jaejoong, calling out to his lover as he entered their bedroom suite. The singer padded out of the bathroom, wiping at his face with a wet washcloth, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Although still paler than Yunho liked to see him, Jaejoong’s smile went a long way in bringing a blush to the leader’s cheeks, the memory of the bath they’d shared yesterday still vivid in his mind.
“Feeling better, baby?” Yunho placed their food on a low coffee table, waiting for Jaejoong to make himself comfortable on the couch before handing the singer a steaming bowl. Opening a pair of chopsticks, he rubbed the splinters off, giving Jae the first pair before getting his own.
“Better than last night.” Jae murmured, moving his legs to make room for Yunho, tucking his feet under his lover’s thigh.
Dipping the ends of his chopsticks into the ramen, Yunho picked out a few bits of fresh shitake and dropped them into Jae’s bowl. Yunho watched the singer eat, making sure Jae consumed more than a mouthful of food. The older man picked at his food, drawing out a few noodles and delicately placing them on his tongue, chewing with less enthusiasm than Yunho liked.
“You need to eat more, Boo.” The leader selected a chunk of gobo fishcake from Jae’s bowl and held it out for the singer to take. Biting at the meaty square, Jaejoong worked it around his mouth, chewing carefully. “We shouldn’t have...”
“Are you saying that you didn’t want me when we were in the bathtub?” Jae quirked an eyebrow, a dangerous glint forming under his downswept lashes. Yunho pursed his mouth, knowing full well Jaejoong’s behaviour bordered on anti-social when he wasn’t feeling well.
“Do not put those words on my tongue.” Yunho warned the young man he loved, shaking his head. “Don’t confuse my love and concern for you with indifference. I’d rather go celibate forever if it means you live one extra day. I’d rather have your heart than your body. Remember that, Kim Jaejoong.”
“Humph.” With his argument sidelined, Jaejoong went back to his food, muttering of the unfairness of Yunho’s comeback.
“Besides,” Yunho offered an opening for Jae to save face, offering the singer a piece of egg omelet. “I don’t think either one of us could have gone another day without each other. I thought I was going to explode when you slid across of me to get into the van. I tried thinking of all the ugly dogs I’ve ever seen to make my dick soften.”
“Dogs?” Jae made a face. “You thought about ugly dogs?”
“Farthest thing from you that I could think of.” Yunho replied with a shrug, grinning at Jae’s slight smile.
“What’s the package?” Jae nodded to the manila envelope Yunho left at the end of the coffee table. “Our new schedule?”
“No, the staff said that it’s mail that someone from home sent me.” Yunho put his food down, nudging Jae with his foot. “Keep eating. I’ll open it without your help.”
“Pfah.” Jaejoong made a face, sticking his tongue out. The food settled into his belly, his guts rebelling at the intrusion. “What is it?”
Yunho carefully slit the envelope open, using a plastic knife to cut through the packing tape sealing it closed. Turning it over, he glanced at the return address, his hands stilling when he finally spotted his mother’s handwriting. Shaking out the contents, Yunho froze when he saw the splashes of faces against the beige couch, his lover’s face bent close to Yoochun’s, his mouth brushing the baritone’s lips. The barest hint of a tangerine slice separated them, the space between them nearly blooming into an intimate kiss.
Jaejoong selected one of the photos from the pile, staring down at the image of himself and Yoochun half-dressed and laying out in the sun, their hands touching. A dip of rainwater glistened near Jaejoong’s side, the diamond piercing his navel sparkling in newly washed sun. There were more, captured images of sharing intimacies, sometimes reminiscent of laughter while others held the evidence of sorrow, tears running down Jae’s face.
“I wish I was always there to wipe your face when you cry.” Yunho peeked at the photo Jaejoong held in his hand, the singer’s prettiness vividly etched on the photo paper.
“Are these...?” Jae left the question hanging there, unable to form a coherent thought around the lump of shock in his brain.
“The pictures my father had taken?” Yunho forced himself to sound calm, keeping his voice steady. He’d hidden the other images, tucking them away for a time in their lives when the photos wouldn’t be associated with blackmail and pain. The friendship between the two men shone from the flat paper, a staunch and steady bond forged across shared anguish. “Yes. I’ve not seen of these before. I’ve got some copies of these but not all. I like this one.”
Yunho pulled out a photo of Jae looking off into the distance, the river shown in the background. A gentle spray cast up behind the singer, his gaze distracted, his thoughts lost in the maze of his mind. It was a face Yunho saw often but rarely did he have the chance to drink in the view as they rushed around their life. To him, this was the true essence of Jaejoong, the dreamer carved from alabaster, a delicate looking stone that defied the world with its strength.
“This one.” Yunho tapped at the corner, kissing Jae on the side of his mouth, licking at the spot before pulling away. “This is who I fell in love with. My Boo. Sexy and sweet but fierce.”
“Why did he...” Jae fought the spread of his tears into his eyes, refusing to give into Yunho’s father and his machinations. “How could he look at these pictures and see ugliness? It’s our friendship. Mine and Yoochun’s. Where is the ugliness in this?”
“Sometimes, it’s hard to see when you’ve pulled a bag over your eyes because you’re afraid of the truth.” Yunho shrugged. The package rattled, another smaller envelope and sheets of paper falling out. Handing Jae the letter, he worked at the white square envelope, wondering at its thickness. “Read that to me.”
“It’s from your mother.” Jae shook his head. “I shouldn’t...”
“Partners until death. Remember, baby?” Yunho said, taking his time with the envelope. He wanted to hear his mother’s words in his lover’s voice, knowing she hoped reconcile with the singer for Yunho’s sake. “Read. Then eat.”
“Dear Baby-boy.” Jae grinned widely at the affectionate nickname, stopping to glance slyly at his lover. “She calls you her baby-boy.”
“I call you much worse.” Yunho replied, sitting back against the couch. “And if you tell anyone, I’m going to do not do things to you for a month. Just remember that.”
“Ah, always with the threats to withhold sexual favours.” Jaejoong snorted. “As if you can go that long too.”
“Read, Boo.” Yunho winced at the flaw in his plan, sighing at its truth. He had far less control than Jaejoong, the singer’s innate erotic nature easily drawing out Yunho’s carnal needs.
“I am including something that will make your father’s efforts to subvert you useless.” Jae cocked his head and continued reading. “I hope that you’re doing well and that this letter finds you quickly. I would like to spend time with you and Kim Jaejoong when you are back home. Please let me know when you have time and we can meet for lunch or maybe even shopping.”
“There is a new restaurant that I would like to try. Your sister sends her love. I’ve included a drawing she did for you in school.” Jaejoong unfolded the other sheet, showing his lover a crayon rendition of a forest filled with birds. “Our bulletin board is covered with her drawings. I believe she will want to be an artist when she grows up. If you tell her that it is an impractical life, she responds that her brother is often impractical but a great success. She is determined to be what she wants, much like you.”
“I wish you the best on this tour. Please kiss Jaejoong for me and tell him thank you.” Yunho took a moment to kiss his lover full on the mouth, earning a snort from Jae. The singer returned to the letter, continuing. “I love you and take care. I hope to hear from you soon. Love, Momma.”
The inner envelope finally open, Yunho carefully extracted long rectangular sheets of negative film. Drawing his breath in, the leader held the film strips up to the light, seeing the oddly coloured images of his lover and Yoochun through the brown squares.
“I think these are all of them.” Yunho smiled, tucking the strips back into the envelope. “My mother must have taken them from where my father had them and sent them to me.”
“I told you...” Jae stroked at Yunho’s cheek with his fingers, feeling the happiness finally spreading up from Yunho’s heart and into his smile. “She loves you. You’re her son. Mothers love their sons.”
“Jaejoong.” Yunho kissed his lover’s palm, thinking of the woman who failed to speak when her husband threw out their youngest. The hitching pain of regret grew jagged in his heart, the revelations of Jaejoong’s birth and his subsequent placement still too raw to speak of. “She ...”
“No, this is about your mother.” Jaejoong shook his head. “And that she loves you. Leave it there, Yunnie.”
“Ah, well just so long as you know that you’re not alone.” Yunho placed his mouth over Jaejoong’s lips, sucking at the air past the singer’s lips, taking back a kiss. “I’m here. As well as the others. We love you.”
“Then that’s all I need, love.” The singer nodded, cuddling into Yunho’s arms.
“Nope.” Yunho refuted, picking up Jaejoong’s forgotten meal. “You also need food. Eat, so I can spend some time ravaging you. That’s a good word. Ravage.”
“Just lock the door this time.” Jae muttered, sighing as he picked up a mouthful of noodles with chopsticks. “If Changmin walks in on us one more time, I’m just going to tell him to jump into bed with us and get his virginity out of the way then go look for love.”
“Boo... The last thing I need is an image of you and Changmin in my mind. I just got rid of the last one.” Yunho rolled his eyes. Biting at Jae’s shoulder, he went back to his food, finding another piece of offensive mushroom to pawn off on Jaejoong. “Only you, baby. I don’t want anyone but you.”