Rating: Overall NC-17 (This section... possibly R?)
The Yoosu Dance and Jaeho Inspired by: ranalore
Summary: Section Seven.
The beginning of a shifting relationship. Hot Korean boys. Sex. Dancing and some angry words. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily in each section.
Section One; Section Two; Section Three; Section Four; Section Five; Section Six
Micky picked out a series of chords on the electronic keyboard he fitted onto the corner of the desk, listening to the pure notes float through the small room he shared with Junsu. When they first decided on who would be sleeping where, he’d never imagined that sharing a room with the nearly always smiling young man would be the most peaceful place in the house. Now, with the tension thick between Jaejoong and Yunho, he found some comfort in the simplicity of his relationship with his roommate.
The window offered little insight into his problems, a drifting cloud dancing along the distance. Changmin was singing someplace in the house, a high pitched silly song used in a soda commercial. The lyrics brought a grin to Yoochun’s thoughts, a tale of happy rabbits and their smiling lives. He missed the innocence of a young soul, Changmin often reminding him of his younger brother, a face he wished he saw more of. The separation from his family tore at his resolve to push himself hard but the others made living apart easier, their familial companionship giving him a cradle to lean into when his heart ached too much.
Footsteps pounded down the hall, a running burst of enthusiasm matched by a squealing ring of laughter, a surprised Changmin shouting a warning towards Yoochun’s room. The youngest boy continued his singing, interrupted only for a moment before falling back into cadence, obviously lost in a video game in the main living room. The footfall grew louder, an elephantine swaying beat on the wooden floor.
“I am home, Chunnie-ah!” Broad-faced and pleasant, Junsu’s smile lit up the walls with its brilliance, a white swath of joy. Micky smiled despite the troubles that seemed to hang over the day. A smiling Junsu was hard to resist. Bounding over to his bed, Su did a half-leap into the air, stretching his arms out as he fell onto the soft mattress. Rolling over onto his side, he grinned again, even wider much to Yoochun’s surprise. “Did you miss me?”
“Terribly.” Yoochun nodded, not at all surprised to find that he spoke the truth. He found he spent most of his time looking for Junsu amid the clutter of their day, a curious hole in his life when the other singer was off doing things with his family or on a separate interview. “Did you have fun with your brother?”
“It was good to see him. His world is so very serious. Not nearly as much fun as ours.” Junsu worked his jacket off, trying to sit up at the same time. The long-shag of his hair stuck up around his face, disheveled from the winter wings picking up outside. He’d brought the cold in with him, a burnish of red over the tip of his nose. Finally getting the jacket free from his arms, Junsu pulled his pillows up against his back, sniffing at the scent on them. “You washed my sheets?”
“I had to.” Yoochun admitted. “Jaejoong ended up sleeping there…after spending a night at a club.”
“Ah. He must have smelled.” Junsu wrinkled his nose, thinking of the sour taste of cigarette smoke on the young singer’s body. The smell of tobacco on Yoochun didn’t bother him at all but its taint on Jaejoong seemed oddly pungent, an out of place scent that only belong to Micky. “Thank you for washing the linens. I like Jaejoong but I don’t think I’d want to sleep with the scent of him on my sheets.”
“It’s been a… trial since you’ve been gone.” Micky said, turning in his chair. He debated what to tell the other singer, wondering how much of it was in confidence and whether or not they could actually do something about the careening tragedy that seemed to be spinning about around them. “I am glad you’re back.”
“Changmin told me that there was…trouble.” Junsu glanced at the door, watching for the stretch of long shadow against the hallway wall that told him there was someone walking towards the bedrooms. “He doesn’t know much of what’s going on. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to know or really has no idea.”
“I think it’s better that way, maybe.” Yoochun leaned forward, sliding onto the edge of his own bed.
The space between the two beds was slender, enough for a single person to walk past. They’d moved the furniture around to have more space in the front of the room, not realizing that by positioning their sleeping area in close, that they would cement a friendship of whispering laughter and easy smiles. Junsu and Yoochun spoke often in the night before they fell asleep, sharing tales of their dreams or wishes they had for their lives. Their words remained easy, centering mostly on the days events or things that they would have to do in the near future. Sometimes one would fall silent as the other would speak of things more intimate, of fears or heartbreak that lay in the past, each offering small comforts in a touch or a soft word.
“What has our Jaejoong done now?” Junsu slid off of his bed, making his way onto Micky’s, his face still turned towards the hallway. He would keep watch on the shadows, trying to afford the other some privacy while they talked. “I didn’t see him or Yunho.”
“Jaejoong wanted to go to the studio and practice.” Micky thought on the small argument he had with Yunho, trying to keep the other from following but his words fell on deaf ears. Their leader hadn’t wanted to let the singer out of his sight, despite being at each other’s throats all day. “Yunho followed.”
“Yunho always follows. He’s like the moth to a burning flame. I am not sure which one is hurting more.” Junsu made a face, bitter on the sweet of his soul. “Jaejoong for being in love and not saying anything or Yunho wanting to love and not knowing how to.”
“So you…” Micky hissed out his breath, letting the stress in his stomach out. “You’ve been watching them as well? I thought maybe I was the only one who noticed.”
“I’m not blind, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu nudged the other with his shoulder, the slight chill of winter seeping in from the window glass. “Did you think you were the only one to notice how they circle around each other. It’s making me dizzy watching them. I wish one of them would finally do something to bring the other around. Even if loving one another is… not something they can share in the open…wouldn’t it be better than tearing each other apart?”
“Jaejoong is in pain.” Yoochun breathed a sigh of relief, finally finding someone to talk to on the whole subject. “Yunho spends his time angry and I don’t think he knows what he’s angry at yet. Just that Jaejoong is the reason for it.”
“Jae is the reason for it but not for anything that he’s done.” Su agreed, a nod of his head bobbing the hair into his face. Impatiently shoving it back from his forehead, his eyes twinkled with mischief. “I think we should lock them in a room and not let them out until they’ve sorted out this nonsense. It’s driving us all insane with worry. Well, maybe not Min. I’ve changed my mind. He doesn’t understand what’s going on between the two of them.”
“I don’t think Yunho is ready to admit that he has feelings for Jaejoong.” Micky replied. “It’s a long way from being intimate and then another thing to cross that threshold of … loving another man, especially someone that drives him as mad as Jaejoong.”
“Jae drives him crazy because he looks for logic in the chaos that is our Jaejoong.” Junsu pointed out. “The sooner you realize that Jae has no rhyme or reason to him, then life is easier for all concerned. Take what he shows you at face value and remember that what he feels one moment might not be how he is the next. Then everything is all right.”
“That’s not true. He makes some sense…sometimes. He just is… simply complicated. Yunho overthinks things and thinks Jae doesn’t care about what he wants.” Yoochun pushed at Junsu, sending the other sprawling back into the covers. Su laughed loudly, his easy going nature clear on his face. “Jaejoong does care…sometimes he cares too much about what Yunho thinks!”
“I know he does.” Junsu teased at Yoochun’s waist with his toes, pulling at the other’s shirt. “Jaejoong’s heart is too big for his soul. It’s always wide open and the only thing he has to protect it is his stubbornness and prickly nature. But he does care. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it when you are sad. He is there, always saying the right things to make your heart lift. I wish I was able to do that for you, sometimes.”
Micky stared down at the smaller young man, a crooked smile on Junsu’s face. Nodding, Yoochun slapped at Junsu’s thigh, a light touch to show he felt the sentiment behind Junsu’s words. Pulling a bolster free from under Junsu’s leg, the young man cradled it up against his stomach, leaning on the wall beneath the window.
“I’m just not sure what to do.” Yoochun finally spoke, his fingers playing with the ridge of bone along Junsu’s ankle. “I can see that Yunho cares for Jae…he cares deeply. I just don’t know if Yunho is ready or able to love him. And Joongie needs that. If I could wish one thing for him, it would be that. Someone to be there for him, always…no matter what.”
“We can’t do anything about it.” Junsu reached out, rubbing at Yoochun’s shoulder. “Nothing good will come of playing Cyrano de Bergerac for them. I’m sure it would end up being a disaster if we tried.”
“Can you see me hiding in the bushes trying to whisper things into Jae’s ear for him to say to Yunho standing on a balcony?” Micky laughed hard, thinking of the look of confusion on Jaejoong’s face when he misheard something romantic in a movie. “It would be horrible.”
“I could help!” Junsu stretched his arms over his head, pulling Micky’s feather pillow under him. “I could look up love poems and have Jae write them in longhand, sneaking them into Yunho’s pockets to find.”
“With our luck, someone would borrow Yunnie’s jacket and we’ll spend days chasing them through the streets of Seoul, trying to get the note back before it was read.” Yoochun smirked. “That’s how it would be for us.”
“They have to work it out themselves, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu’s face grew serious, transforming his cute features into a stunning handsomeness. Sighing, he rested his chin on his chest, staring down at his friend. “Hopefully, they’ll both come to their senses before long.”
“I think Jae has come to his senses…well, as much sense as Jaejoong has.” The young man said, his hand still resting on Junsu’s shin. “Yunho is the more stubborn one. I don’t think he wants to look at Jae. Yunho is afraid of losing control and Jaejoong will do that to him. But Joongie will also make him laugh with joy that he’s never felt before. I don’t know why Yunho can’t see that sometimes, love can give him that….Jaejoong can give him that.”
“We’re often scared of what can make us feel the most, Chunnie-ah.” Junsu whispered, the heat from Yoochun’s fingers burning into his thoughts. “That’s how we are. Always wanting and scared to have.”
Yunho watched from the door, hiding behind the thick sheave of wood separating the main studio from the side room. Jaejoong had the place to himself, save the lurking presence of the band’s leader amid the shadows. Stripped down to a tank top and loose dance pants, Jaejoong stretched out his left leg, feeling the pushing burn of his muscles give, the soleus aching from the overextension he’d fallen into. Every step he took crept a tearing agony along the front of his leg, the thigh twitching in response.
The studio looked the same as it always did, spans of wooden floors polished from countless feet trying to echo the dreams of a choreographer. A powdery freshener tried to mask the scent of sweat and tears, the undertones of coppery blood and spilled water when a body finally broke under the stress of bending the body beyond what it was meant to do. Still Yunho loved the feel of the mirrors around him, finding the perfection of movement in what they did, matching the synchronicity of their music to the supple lines of their bodies. Yet now, holding only Jaejoong, it took on a mystery Yunho couldn’t fathom…a puzzle to which he felt like if he just found the right thing to say or do, would unfold into a glorious, joyous mess that would sear his soul clean from the face of the earth.
Music played from the inset speakers above the mirrors, the dimmers lit only to spotlight the front of the room where the slender singer walked off the aches in his thighs. His body moved from the shadow to the light, curves of stygian molding along the lean lines of his form, casting small dramas in the theatre of his face. Yunho’s mouth dried, a sticky mess of ashen want he couldn’t ease with a swallow, every ounce of moisture seemingly rushing to an uncomfortable spot in the back of his throat. Jaejoong reached up over his head, working the knots loose from his shoulders and stepped back into the beat of the music, trying to place his mind fully on the routine he didn’t seem to be able to master.
Sliding up from a crouch, Jaejoong stepped forward, moving his head to the side with a snap. The shoulders followed, a curling motion that would bring his body directly in line with Changmin before another stepping dance slid him around Yunho. With his eyes closed, Jaejoong concentrated on moving through the routine, nearly stumbling at even the thought of ghosting past Yunho’s strong body.
His hands smelled of the vanilla from the shampoo, a perfume embedded in the very pores of his skin. Jaejoong stopped suddenly, capturing the feel of the shower again in his heart. Standing the place where he would brush under Yunho’s arms, it would take just the smallest of movements to stand up and be captured there, a circle of strength and warmth encasing his shoulders.
“You always stop there.” Yunho said, coming out of the shadows, his face wary with regret and trepidation. “Even when we’re dancing in group, you stop there and wait, for the smallest of seconds. That’s what throws us off. You fall out of time.”
“Did you follow me just to correct me? Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jaejoong cast his eyes down, his jaw set against throwing words into Yunho’s face. Grabbing at the towel he’d thrown against the floor, Jae’s body bent forward, his thigh nearly giving out under his full weight. Crying out, the singer held out his hands, hoping to catch his fall before he struck the hard wooden floor.
The world jerked once, his waist held by two hands before his body slide down softly, a gentle arc resting him near the mirrors. The mounted wall bar gave Jae a place to hook his hands into, easing down with a care to his injured thigh. Yunho bent down, his knees on either side of Jaejoong’s hips, holding the singer up until Jae was sitting back.
Yunho’s hands roamed down, exploring the span of Jae’s hips, feeling the long muscles beneath the pants fabric. Watching the singer’s face, Jae’s eyes closed in sublime pleasure, Yunho leaned in to the curve of the other young man’s throat, wanting to taste the dapple of drops running down from Jae’s jaw line to his chin. A touch of Jaejoong’s thigh brought a hissing retort, his injured leg spasming beneath Yunhos’ probing touch.
“That hurts.” Jae ineffectually pushed down at Yunho’s strong hands, the other singer ignoring the futile attempt…as well as the furious look in the young man’s brown eyes. “Stop. I’ll just walk it off.”
“You fell last night too.” Yunho unthinkingly pulled at the stretch fabric, swiftly working the pants down Jaejoong’s body to feel at the muscle twisting under his fingers. “You tore it, I am sure of it.”
“We dance through our pain.” Jaejoong’s words echoed Yunho’s stinging retort from the other day.
“Don’t toss what I’ve said back at me.” The gentle reproach nearly broke Jaejoong’s heart, Yunho’s face hidden behind a swath of hair as the other ran delicate fingers over the stretch of Jae’s thigh, trying to feel where the heat of the tear stopped and healthy muscle began anew. “I’m sorry for saying that.”
“I’m sorry for saying a lot of things, Jaejoong.” Yunho glanced up. Jae’s teeth nibbled at the fullness of his own lower lip, the sensual plumpness dimpled by a sharp white bite. His own mouth rebelled at the sight, wanting to follow the divets with his own tongue, feeling them rise back up and wanting nothing more than to dimple that fullness again, marking him until Jae cried out into the echo of his mouth.
Shocked at the thought, Yunho pulled himself up, hands shaking with the sheer power of the image of Jaejoong’s body surrendering under his ravenous mouth. His breath iced into his chest, trying to spread some calm through the jittering nerves that nested in his stomach. Fists at his sides, Yunho inhaled again, catching his breath before speaking again.
“We need to get you home. You shouldn’t be practicing like this.” Yunho debated not offering his hand to the other singer but knew Jae wouldn’t be able to stand without assistance, not with his muscles knotting from overuse. Touching the singer would be a torture, wanting something from Jae that he couldn’t even voice aloud… Yunho braved himself for the anguish of their skin touching.
“I don’t want to go home.” Jaejoong’s voice was small in the echo of the room. “Can’t I just sit here for a bit and let this go away?”
“Better if you were in a hot tub of water. It will loosen your muscles and we can rub Tiger Balm on it afterwards.” Yunho said, shifting to crouch down besides the delicate-featured singer. The delicious sin of Jae’s face moved something inside of Yunho, something he feared would consume him if he allowed it. And yet, there was a small part of him that whispered for its consumption, that fully engorged obsession with the dark sweetness Jae’s presence promised. “I’ll help you. I won’t let you fall.”
“You’ve pushed me down before.”
Yunho knew Jae wasn’t speaking of anything physical. The words…the anger he’d been bearing from Yunho’s anger was more than enough to tear apart anyone and yet the singer withstood it all, turning away from the ire as if it were nothing more than a sheet of rain to be absorbed before the sun shone again.
“Not this time, Joongie-ah.” The soft whisper of his name melted Jae’s resolve and he leaned back into Yunho’s hands, feeling the other’s strength lift him clear of the floor. “I won’t drop you this time. I don’t want to drop you ever again.”