(some jaeho and yoosu along the way)
Section Rating: PG-13
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hot Korean boys. A seduction. An alluring. A temptation. And Min's self-discovery.
Sections: One, Two, Three
Related Fics: So Much Mine and Lavender Bunny. Links go to PDFs. Other related fics can be found at my LJ: wedspawn
The serious ones always came to him, Min thought. The ones with glasses and a shy smile, holding out their autograph books after first bobbing a courtesy bow towards Yunho beside him. He knew that many would pass him over, stopping first at the leader… they nearly all stopped at Yunho… before continuing on to Jaejoong. It was a pattern that he knew well, and sometimes he would stare off into the line and try to guess the ones that would stop at his place. Min was rarely wrong.
To his right, Yoochun and Junsu were making noise. They were a boisterous couple, often falling into fits of laughter that no one ever truly understood. More than once, Changmin wondered if they shouldn’t hold back any sugar from the pair. He worried for their livers and minds sometimes. Next to him, Jaejoong tapped at the edges of the photos he had been given, organizing the stacks into neat little piles.
The lead singer already wore his outward persona, the porcelain mask he used to distance himself from the throngs of loud people. It slid easily into place, protecting the tender heart inside. Changmin could feel Yunho glancing at his lover, wanting to lean over and touch Jaejoong to reassure him but the boring eyes of everyone around them would stop such a contact.
Discretion held Yunho’s hand.
Min knew that it was an unwelcome companion in Yunho’s life. Their leader would rather spend his life out in the open instead of skulking behind the shadows, dodging whispers and rumours. Jaejoong would rather die than jeopardize Changmin and the others. Min knew this and while he hurt for the couple, he felt warm at the love Jae had for him. He’d heard Jae say he needed the group as much as he need Yunho, loud and often when the elders used to argue behind closed doors. Those arguments had fallen off as they settled into their relationship. Min still felt that love from Jaejoong. Now he felt it from Yunho as well.
Unfortunately, he still heard the moaning and pleading for more through the thin walls. Sitting between the pair, Min’s face ran hot as his thoughts wandered over to things he knew he should ignore.
Sometimes it was easy to look the other way. Other times, it was all he could do not to press himself up against the wall and wonder what it would be like to make those sounds. To have those needs crawl out of his belly and tell someone how much he wanted them.
Changmin thanked whatever gods he could for not being able to hear Yoochun and Junsu. They were too loud outside of the bedroom. He didn’t want to imagine the racket they could make.
“Please?” Min looked up when he heard a young girl’s voice. “Min-san?”
She stood in front of him, dressed neatly in a plaid skirt and ironed white blouse. Holding out one of his photos, she blushed, pushing her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. The young woman carried a stack of notebooks, their covers dotted with drawings of small animals and scrawls of class notes across the brown clapboard backings.
He duck his head in apologies for not noticing her sooner, ashamed he’d allowed his thoughts to wander into a carnal wasteland rather than paying attention to the event.
Changmin enjoyed the signings. He felt no need to rush and could spend time with each person, talking about what interested them and what songs they liked. The line for his place was never overwhelmingly long, not like Yunho’s. Although some time Min wondered if they stopped at Yunho’s place because they were paying respects to the leader and not just the person.
It passed too quickly. A few hours and then they were being rushed off to some place else, a studio where he would sit in the back behind Jaejoong and Yunho, out of the way and unable to intercept the pair’s more overt groping. That suited Min just fine. There were times when he wondered if he shouldn’t just step back and let them at one another. Yunho’s glare often stopped that thought. The leader could read his mind if not his face.
The stylist gave him an assessing look, and he neatly sidestepped her. If he could avoid her, she would pull his hair into a pony tail instead of those damned braids. The makeup lady called him over, sympathetic to his plight. Hurrying to the chair, Min slid into the soft-backed director’s chair, breathing a sigh of relief.
“How is the Min today?” Her softly accented Japanese was a bit hard for Changmin to follow. Coming from one of the Southern regions of the island, she spoke a vastly different dialect than the one he was trying to learn. But she was sweet and tucked cookies into his jacket for later.
“I’m fine, obasan.” He tried out the word.
“Ah, good word.” She nodded, the gold chain leash of her eyeglasses chiming as she moved. “Also you can use hakubo. That is what we use where I am from.”
Changmin made notes, drawing out the word phonetically and then asking her help for the lettering. He studied her hands as she wrote, noting the stroke pattern then numbering the lines so he could practice later.
“Thank you, obasan.” Min stood and bowed deeply, pulling at the cloak protecting his clothes. “You help me more than you know.”
“You are welcome, Min-kun.” She shooed him from the chair, motioning for Jaejoong to sit down. “Come, let me see if I can make you prettier.”
Changmin scoffed as he passed the older man, dodging Jae’s playful punch at his shoulder. “See if you can make him uglier. I am tired of standing next to him. No one sees me or Yoochun.”
“Speak for yourself!” Chun shouted from the stylist chair, wincing as she brushed out the tangles of his hair. “I am the handsomest!”
“Maybe if someone has their eyes closed.” Junsu teased, moving his legs as his lover kicked out at his shins.
All of the chairs were taken, the other members reclining and allowing the staff to work on their hair and makeup. Taking advantage of the distraction, Changmin stole outside, looking for some place quiet to read. He would have to speak for the group today, the hard work on his Japanese paying off. Finding a secluded alcove, Min curled up in a wide armchair, flipping through his notebook and sounding out the words he was still shaky on.
A chirrup stilled his mind, freezing his thoughts with an icy anticipation. Inhaling hard, Min debated letting the call roll into voice mail, unsure if he was up to dealing with the man on the other end of the line. Biting down on his full lip, he chastised himself for being a coward.
You can do this, Shim Changmin; he told himself sternly. This is just another man. Yes, he is more experienced but you wanted to explore this.
Besides, the thought of Se7en being his first lover was something that thrilled Min down into his bones. The other man’s dangerous, sultry advances were a potent sip of wine on Min’s tongue. Changmin wanted to drain the cup Se7en offered and hold it out to ask for more.
“Hello.” Min forced himself to sound steady, nonchalant as if Se7en’s call meant nothing more than a connection with a friend or perhaps even a distant cousin who he’d not heard from in a few months.
Blessed if there wasn’t a world of sensuality wrapped in that one word. Min’s innards melted and his body tightened at the sound. Swallowing, the young man continued.
“I know what that means now.” Min said softly, nearly accusingly. “Itachi. Why don’t you use that one instead?”
“Because itachi doesn’t leave your mouth pouted for a kiss.” Se7en poured heat into Min’s ear, savouring the shuddering catch of the younger man’s breath. “And I know you. You like a challenge. Itachi would have been too easy to look up. And I like the sound of minku better. It suits you.”
“Do you know what a mink is, pretty?” Se7en asked, leading Min’s thoughts around the subject.
“I do. It’s a small weasel creature they use for fur.” Changmin flipped a page in his notebook, his pencil tracing out letters he needed to practice. After a few moments, he stared down at the page, castigating himself for writing Se7en’s name in small block letters over the blue lined parchment.
“Ah, they are beautiful creatures and very pushy when something comes into their territory.” Se7en remarked. “They also purr when they’re happy. I’ve not heard you purr yet, Minku. I want to, you know. Hear you purr.”
“It would be even nicer,” The other man’s voice dropped, alluring dark and seductive. “If I were the one to make you purr.”
“We’re about to go have an interview.” Changmin warned Se7en. “I don’t need you to get me all worked up so I forget my Japanese. I need to do this right.”
“Ah!” Se7en’s tone shifted, sympathetic to the young man’s plea. “Are you worried that you’ll make a mistake?”
To Se7en’s ear, the word sounded so forlorn. A lonely drop of sound in an ocean of ambition and want.
“You’ll do fine, Minku. I have faith in you.” The older man said. It was a comfort laid over Min’s shattered nerves. Sighing, Se7en sat back, making himself comfortable. “The others have faith in you too. Why don’t you have it in yourself?”
“I’m not good enough at this yet.” Changmin insisted. “My language skills aren’t as solid. Jaejoong is nearly as good as I am and he doesn’t even try. I swear he picks it up out of the air while I have to work extra hard just to get the pronunciation right.”
“His tongue is more limber than yours. Something I intend to change once I’m close enough to touch you.” Se7en teased. “And Jaejoong will never be the group’s spokesman. That lies with you and Yunho. Jae is too erratic. One never knows what will come out of his mouth. When you speak, it is thoughtful and steady. The sign of a good leader.”
“I am not the leader.” Min reminded him.
“No not of the group, but Yunho does look to you. He looks to you to lead. Jaejoong is his counterpart but he looks to you to help guide the members.” The older man replied. Changmin heard the flick of a lighter on the other side of the phone line and the pushing rush of a cigarette being sucked on. “Yunho turns to you sometimes and expects you to fill in. I’ve watched him do it. It’s nice to see him have that trust in you.”
“You shouldn’t smoke.” Min murmured. “It’s bad for you.”
“How did we go from how you are to what is bad for me?” The other asked. “You can’t divert me that easily, Minku. I’m not going fall for your luring me away from what I want to talk about. I know your games. You put me on the defensive so I have to justify why I do something. No, little one, this time, we’re talking about you. Get used to it.”
Yoochun fled the styling room, shaking out his arms to get the feeling back into his hands. No matter how long he did this, he still felt apprehension when he sat down in the hairdresser’s chair. After getting the weave done on his scalp, he now had nightmares of that woman’s face, her leering smile chasing him through a forest of combs and spray bottles.
Flopping into one of the comfortable arm chairs set along the hallway, Yoochun twisted his head around, working the kinks from his neck. Closing his eyes, he wasn’t prepared for the weight of the other man landing in his lap.
“Aish, you’re heavy.” Micky grinned, wrapping his arms around Junsu’s waist. The tenor merely quirked a smile at his lover, sitting sideways and flinging his legs over the chair’s overstuffed arms. Grabbing at Yoochun’s hands, Junsu wove their fingers together, a casual, intimate gesture they both loved.
“Is that Changmin I hear?” Junsu cocked his head, straining to hear the murmuring voice of their youngest member.
“I think he’s around the corner.” Yoochun agreed. “He’s talking to someone on the phone.”
“Lately, he’s always talking to someone on the phone.” The amiable singer’s thoughts raced. “Don’t you wonder who he is talking to?”
“Ah, you have no curiosity.” Junsu teased. “I want to know. Suppose he has a girlfriends…or even a boyfriend. It’s wrong of him to keep things from us. We’re a group.”
“Our Minnie-ah likes having secrets sometimes.” Yoochun reminded Junsu. His fingers trailed over the other’s waist, stroking at the powerful muscles along the singer’s back. Junsu’s eyes hooded at the touch, a rolling pleasured murmur working in his throat. “When he’s ready to talk to us about it, he will. Besides, it might be someone we don’t know. Or someone he doesn’t want us to know. We would tear someone apart. He knows this. He’s not stupid.”
“I don’t think I’d want someone we didn’t know to be with Changmin.” Junsu’s mouth tightened. “And I wouldn’t want it to be Junho.”
“Okay, I don’t want to imagine Changmin with your brother.” The other man shuddered, shaking his shoulders. “I don’t need that image.”
“You don’t need any image of Changmin with anyone. Only me.”
“Understood.” Yoochun replied in English. He’d been working to get his fluency back, hammering at the harsh words to break off the tonal qualities of the Korean he’d been speaking for the past few years. “Only you.”
“Onry.” Junsu grinned, purposely slurring the word.
It had become a joke between them after Junsu tried to say only but it sounded more like horny to Yoochun’s ears. They’d fallen apart laughing, tears streaming down their faces as the others shouted at them from the front of the van to shut up. Since then, the mere mention of the word brought a cocky smile to Yoochun’s face and a threat of giggles twitched Junsu’s cheeks.
“It would be nice if he had someone.” Yoochun grew serious. “He’s too lonely sometimes.”
“He’s too serious all the time.” Junsu remarked. “Yunho is right. Our Min needs to remember that he’s young. He should laugh more. And not just because we make him laugh.”
“I think he laughs at us. Not with us.” The baritone wrinkled his face, blowing a raspberry against his lover’s neck. The ruffle of air made Junsu snort, ticklish to a fault. Pulling back, Yoochun stared up into Junsu’s face, happy for the joy he saw in the other’s eyes. “Jaejoong and Yunho will take care of it. You know they will.”
“Good.” Junsu nodded, leaning in to peck Yoochun lightly on the mouth, a quick kiss that could be construed as nothing more than a buss between friends. It was a small intimacy they allowed each other in public, not held to the rigid roles confining Jaejoong and Yunho. “But if it is Junho, I’ll kill them both. Gah, my brother! And Minnie-ah! No, that’s not right!”
“Your brother doesn’t like men.” Yoochun reminded him. “And he’s much to conservative to change his mind. Besides, isn’t Min good enough for him?”
“Ah, Min is more than good enough for him.” Junsu nodded. “He’s not good enough for our Changmin. No one is. He’s our Minnie-ah. He deserves the best.”
“So you’re going to go on and be the best there?” Se7en asked softly, wishing he was there to stroke at the young man’s face. The tenderness in Min’s voice promised a delicious kiss from a velvety mouth, something he could use at the moment. “Hwaiting.”
Min’s short bark of laughter made Se7en smile. The young man’s assent came reluctantly, then stronger when Se7en asked him to repeat it with more conviction.
“Good.” The older man said. “How long do you have until you go on and what are you doing?”
“About fifteen minutes.” Min checked his watch. “We’re on an interview show. I think they want to ask us personal questions. Probably about what the difference is between home and here. I get tired of answering that one. How many times can I say the same thing in a different way?”
“Ah, I never get asked that question.” He replied. “You five are much more approachable than I am. You’re lucky. People gravitate towards the group. You all offer something different to the fans. And they adore you.”
“They do like the group, it seems.” Min agreed.
“No, say it after me.” Se7en repeated. “They adore Changmin.”
“Aish,” Min borrowed Yoochun’s favourite phrase. “No. You’re being silly. No.”
“We’ll work on that then.” He laughed. “So, answer me something.”
“What?” Min answered cautiously, his voice dropping to a murmur.
The butterflies in his belly were gone, chased away by the other man’s talk. Staring down at the paper he’d scrawled on, Changmin wondered why he ever thought his Japanese wasn’t good enough. Determined to show himself that he’d be clear and understandable during the interview, Min reminded himself that he’d mastered even the alternate forms of certain words and he would do fine, if only to spite his wavering thoughts.
“Did Jaejoong really steal your first kiss?”
“Oh.” Changmin blushed. Gods, he hated that response to his embarrassment. It flushed him to a near fever pitch and made his throat close up, unable to talk. “No, that was a joke. It was something we said during a show. It was suppose to be something of a lie.”
“Ah, good.” Se7en’s rumble held a satisfied moan. “Do you still have your first kiss?”
“No,” Min replied slowly. “I gave it to Yunho.”
“Yunho?” Se7en bit back a curse. The leader always seemed to slide into places Dong-wook wanted to be.
“Yes.” Min admitted. “It was…it’s hard to explain.”
“Did you mean it?” Se7en asked. There was a flare of heat in his tone, a tightness that lay into Min’s belly and left the young man wondering if that was what jealousy sounded like.
The kiss was nothing more than Min’s way of showing Yunho the love the leader had for Jaejoong was not just sex but rather the love of souls. He’d been more than willing to sacrifice what he thought at the time was nothing more than a gesture. Now, hearing the edge in Se7en’s voice, Changmin wondered if he’d sacrificed too much for a result that would have come about on its own given time.
“No.” Changmin finally said, breaking a long silence. I don’t want Yunho in that way. He’s my older brother. “It wasn’t… I didn’t want him. He didn’t want me.”
“Not like you want me?”
Min’s heart stopped, stilling then tripping back into an unsteady beat. He’d never spoken of his desire for Se7en, not aloud and certainly never where the older man could hear. He wouldn’t do so now. It wasn’t something that he wanted to sit between them while he went on an interview. Min knew he would spend the entire time on air wondering how the other felt or reacted when he admitted he wanted Se7en to do things to him… to be inside of him or even, just to cup his face and lick at his lips until they were swollen from kisses.
No, he would not say anything to encourage Se7en.
“No, not like I want you.”
Min closed his eyes, tight against the horror of what he’d just said. Did he have no self-control where the other man was concerned? Swearing hard under his breath, Min struggled to gain control over the situation before he tumbled too far down.
“Good, I want you too, pretty. I want you so very much. Sometimes I can just taste you if I close my eyes and open my mouth. I imagine you taste like the wind, shifting and powerful but then a hint of a gentle breeze.” Se7en said before Min could repair the damage of what he said. “And as far as I’m concerned, Minku, that first kiss is still mine to take.”
“You’re too far away.” Changmin reminded him, struggling to keep his voice on an even keel. “Not even you can kiss across an ocean.”
“I won’t have to.” Se7en replied smoothly. “I’ll be in Japan soon. I’m going to be there for a while, in fact. Probably not far from where the five of you live.”
“So, little one.” The older man spoke softly, a clear sensual threat to Min’s sanity. “I’ll be there to take that kiss that’s waiting for me. And from there, we can move on to other firsts. For now, just remember, that every time you lick your tongue, you’re just keeping that mouth that I want to do so much to moistened for me. Remember that, Minku. And good luck with your show.”