Pairing: Min/Other (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, Four, Five, Six, Se7en, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven (Lemon), Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen, Sixteen; Se7enteen; Eighteen; Minteen; Twenty; Twenty-One (Lime); Twenty-Two; Twenty-Three; Twenty-Four (Lemon); Twenty-Five; Twenty-Six; Twenty-Se7en (Lemon); Twenty-Eight
Related Fics: So Much Mine and Lavender Bunny. Links go to PDFs. Other related fics can be found at my LJ: wedspawn
The pounding syncopated beat of Crazy shook back stage, Changmin standing by the curtains, hidden from view. Yunho and Jaejoong were lost somewhere by the green room, held captive by a Japanese singer that they both worshipped. Peeking out around the flowing material hiding the side stage, Min stared out into the audience, seeing a blur of faces and lights clapping loudly for the man he called his lover.
He was still getting used to the way Japanese audiences reacted to singers and bands on stage. The sometimes eerie silence was a sign of appreciation he reminded himself but still his nervousness increased every second there wasn’t a response from the audience.
So long as there isn’t any fruit being thrown, I shouldn’t care. Changmin grinned. Although I could use some fruit right now. Or better yet, some quiet time alone with Se7en.
That would be a long time coming, he sighed. There was a party scheduled for after the show, a mini-concert to highlight different YG talents. The SM boys were invited as a show of Korean support but the company executives circled the back stage once and then disappeared, having shown face long enough to not be rude if asked after.
“He’s nice to watch.” Yoochun shouted into Changmin’s ear, keeping his head ducked down so the other man could hear. “He’s almost done.”
The music broke into a smattering of loud applause, screaming rising from the mostly female audience. Bowing, Se7en lifted his fists into the air, an energetic bounce to his step as he ran from the stage. One of the tour’s assistants was waiting for him, a towel and bottle of cold water in her hands. Sweaty and gasping from dancing, the singer bent over, catching his breath as the next group rushed past him, patting him on the back before heading out to do their numbers.
Laughing, Se7en accepted the towel and the congratulations, his eyes never straying far from the tight group of people around him. It was as if Min didn’t exist.
Changmin’s heart twisted when Se7en didn’t look at him even though he walked right by. The secrets they had from the world were going to hurt. He knew that. He’d conditioned himself to expect it.
He just didn’t know being ignored could be so painful.
“You’re lucky that you love Junsu.” Changmin said to Yoochun as they left the side stage, forcing himself not to stare at Se7en’s sweat-dewed arms and neck, his chest clearly outlined under his drenched shirt. “You can touch him all you want and no one says anything.”
“Well, not all I want.” Yoochun replied with a sly smile. “I’m sure there are some ways that it would be very bad for us. I save that for when we’re in bed.”
Min moved slowly through the people lining the outer hallway, the oppressive heat making his head ache. He soon lost Yoochun to Junsu’s loud shout, calling the other man over to talk to someone they both knew. The baritone attempted to pull Min with him but the younger man refused, begging off in the hopes of finding some fresh air.
Nodding to a bouncer holding the back door of the auditorium open, Min had his credentials checked again once he reached the roped off alley way leading to the enormous tents set up outside for the after-party. People were already clustered under the high-roofed canvas shelters, glasses clinking and loud laughter greeting Min in a wave of sound as he entered.
Snagging a cold bottle of sparkling water from the bar, he sought out a quiet back corner, turning his cell phone on so the other members would be able to reach him when it was time to go. A small cluster of armchairs dotted various spots in the tents, arranged for quieter conversations and away from the milling crowds that would be filling the area once the show was complete. Min gratefully sank into a chair, pulling a low ottoman over to hook his feet onto. His palm notebook held a few e-books he’d not finished and given the others’ prevalence for staying at parties until late, he thought he might as well catch up on some reading before he either got bored and took a taxi home or one of the others wanted to go home.
He’d already weathered a few disparaging remarks from an older singer, the middle-aged woman muttering loudly about the Korean invasion that was ruining their market. He’d wanted to respond in Japanese, thinking she didn’t know he was relatively fluent in the language but the cunning glint in her eye and the sly smile on her tissue-white face told him that she knew exactly what she was doing.
Her companion, a studio executive, came to his defense. Thankfully for her, Jaejoong hadn’t overheard the remark. Their oldest had little patience for bigotry and used his reputation as a stargazer to his advantage, often crossing over social boundaries with an elegant fumbling people seemed to pardon. Min knew he would never get away with one-third of the things Jae did. Yunho thought he could accomplish even less, perhaps one-tenth. Junsu, they both figured, possibly would be forgiven out of sheer cuteness and in fear of his delivering a bad pun to smooth over the ruffled feathers he might have caused.
Yoochun claimed ignorance and spoke his Konglish to confuse them all.
Changmin was on his third bottle of water and debating finding a bathroom when his cell phone buzzed at his hip. Too early for one of the members to be tired, he thought, answering the call.
“Hey, Minku.” Se7en purred. “Where are you, sexy?”
“In the tents.” Changmin looked around, seeing the main floor had filled in somewhat, blocking his view of the entrance. “Where are you?”
“Just finishing up with a few people from the company.” The clatter of different voices grew louder around Se7en. “I had to take a shower and then got pulled into some PR work. I wish you were here.”
“Can’t, remember?” Min tried to keep his voice light but he heard the creep of resentment underneath his words. “It’s harder than I thought it would be. It hurt when you walked by me.”
“It was hard to walk by you too.” Se7en admitted. “I wanted to grab you and kiss that gorgeous mouth of yours when I got off stage. I was already having a hard time not staring at your legs in those black jeans. God, and when you turned around, the view of your ass just about killed me. I’m pretty sure they thought I was going to faint.”
“You’re silly.” He murmured, the heaviness in his heart lifted by Se7en’s words. “And if you keep talking like that, someone around you is going to hear and you’ll be answering a lot of questions.”
“I’m too tired and missing my Minku to care.” The older man said. “I see Yunho. How about if I tell him I’m going to kidnap you and you go to the parking area? My driver’s there. He’ll let you in the car and then come get me. We can escape to some place dirtier and crass.”
“We’re at a music industry party.” He reminded Se7en. “Can it get dirtier and crasser than that?”
“True.” The man agreed. “So, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, I hope I recognize your town car. I don’t think I remember your driver’s face.”
“Don’t worry. Look for the one made out of stone and that’s him. I’ll call him to tell him to be on the look out for you.” Se7en reassured him. “He likes you. He thinks you’re too good for me.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Nope, but I can tell.” Se7en laughed. “He calls you Shim-san. He still very formally calls me sir and he’s worked for me for two years.”
Changmin shed the jacket nearly as soon as he settled into the town car’s leather seats, breathing a sigh of relief as he unbuttoned the top few closures of his shirt. The driver nodded respectfully at the young man before closing the door, informing Changmin that he’d stocked the wet bar with iced green tea and pomegranate juice.
The car was moving as Min uncapped a bottle of tea, the tinted windows hiding him from outside view. It took fifteen minutes for security to back the crowd of onlookers away from the side street, the car weaving effortlessly through throngs of people and eventually arriving at the back stage door where fans were held back by police and wooden barricades.
Flashes went off as Se7en exited the building, his winning smile wide and thankful for the people shouting his name as he left. Giving one last wave, the man tucked his head down and slid over next to Min, the driver shutting the door tight behind him.
“Hey, baby.” Se7en bent slightly forward, cupping Changmin’s face and stealing a kiss.
Changmin wasn’t prepared for the deep taking of his mouth, the older man’s kiss tasting of cloves and a hint of white wine. His breath was short by the time Se7en was done, the sting of the older man’s teeth along his pout leaving light imprints behind.
“Are we going to your apartment?” Min breathed in Se7en’s scent, his fingers wrapped tight in his lover’s shirt. He pulled down the t-shirt slightly, kissing at the hollow of the older man’s collarbone.
“I thought we’d go have some dinner or maybe…” Se7en’s’ phone rang, the device trapped between their pressed in bodies. Sighing, he pulled it out, brushing a light peck on Min’s upper lip before answering.
“Hello?” The older man’s voice changed, become more husky and rough. Listening for a moment, he bit his lip, his eyes growing more resigned as the caller spoke. “No, I’m already heading home. I’ve got a headache. I don’t feel like dealing with people right now.”
Min heard a squawking from the headset, a woman’s voice urging him to change his mind. Digging out his e-book reader, Changmin tapped out a message for Se7en to read. “If you want to go, you can.”
Se7en’s violent shake of his head left Min with no doubt that attending a party was the last thing that Se7en wanted do. Holding up his hand to stop Min from making any further protests, Se7en returned his attention to the phone.
“Nope. Don’t feel like it.” He repeated. “Look, I did the concert. I hung around for a bit afterwards. Now I’m going home. Sure, you go look into my contract. I’m scheduled to do three public relations events for the company for the first quarter. I’ve already done them.”
“Every thing else that I do is a bonus on your end and good business on mine.” Se7en’s friendly face grew stern, all his playful goofiness fleeing under the cross of his brow. “I don’t need you to tell me how to run my business. I am my business. No one looks out for me but me. If you have a problem with that or with working with me, I can find another PR manager.”
“Good. No, there’s not going to be a problem.” His tone softened. “I just need you to understand that I know my limits and what I want to do. If I say I don’t feel like doing something, it’s because I know I’ll do more damage to my reputation or my credibility by either being too tired to deal with questions or too impatient to deal with idiots. I don’t want to come off like that to people who are interviewing me or expecting me to perform.”
“Good, so long as you understand that.” Se7en pulled Min over onto his lap, rubbing at the younger man’s hip with his fingers. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning to get my event schedule. See if you can work some events around my travel arrangements with Kano. He’s got my concerts and interviews lined up for the next month already. I’ve got some days blacked out for personal time but the rest should be free.”
Signing off, Se7en closed his phone and put it into the pocket of his discarded hoodie, wrapping his arms around Min’s waist. Changmin leaned back in the embrace, staring at the man he thought he knew. There was more beneath the surface than he’d initially given Se7en credit for and the surprise was a welcome shock to his system.
“That was your manager?”
“My PR manager. She’s new. I promoted my old one to be my studio assistant. She wanted to work more with the music end and she’s good at it.” He shrugged. “This one’s only been with me for a couple of weeks and I think someone at the company told her to try to herd me into more things.”
“Ah, things are so different for us.” Min sighed. “We go where we go and do what we’re told. Although Yunnie-ah does push back sometimes. It depends. Sometimes things don’t make a lot of sense.”
“After your initial contracts go out, it’ll be different.” Se7en said. “Trust me, the five of you have gotten a wide audience. They’ll want to keep you happy or at least make sure you’ve got some more down time. You guys work insanely.”
“We want to be the best.” Changmin nodded. “Market saturation.”
“You have that.” Se7en nodded. “And it’s good that the company is behind you. That’s usually a battle for new groups. The Dong Bang boys are sometimes a bit scary for other groups. You’re kind of known to be stubborn.”
“And you still hit on me?”
“Are you kidding?” Se7en slapped Min’s butt. “Have you seen this ass? It’s gorgeous.”
“Sir,” The intercom carried the driver’s voice into the back cab. “Shall I take you home? Or to another destination?”
“I have an idea.” Se7en’s smile was a wicked one. “Let’s you and I go do karaoke.”
“Are you serious?” Min lifted his eyebrows. “You want to go singing after tonight?”
“Sure, we can drink some beer. Get drunk. I can molest you at a love hotel.” The older man kissed Min’s shocked mouth. “What? Love motels can be very erotic. If you get one that changes the sheets in between clients.”
“Sir, I would recommend against straining the young master’s voice. Shim-san shouldn’t take unnecessary risks.” Min covered his mouth as the driver interrupted Se7en’s rambling suggestion. “Might I say a good dinner would be in order?”
“I told you he liked you better than me.” The older man shrugged. “Is there someplace private that you know of? Someplace nice.”
“I wouldn’t take Shim-san to a noodle bar, if that is what you’re implying, sir.” The car made a right turn, gliding onto one of Tokyo’s many causeways. “I know a place that is private, out of the way and serves good food. I can take you back to your apartment afterwards. And drop the young man off at his.”
“Chances are, Shim-san is going to be staying at my home tonight.” Se7en looked to Min. “Do you want to try it? The place to eat. Not my apartment. Although we’ve got to try out a few more flat surfaces there too.”
“It sounds like a plan.” Changmin bit lightly at the end of Se7en’s nose. “Although if we stuck to the bed later, I wouldn’t mind. I have a thing about leaving kitchen counters just for food.”
“Good then. It won’t take more than a few minutes to get there.” The man’s deep voice rumbled through the speaker. “If you could possibly contain yourself for that long, sir, the young man will be able to leave the vehicle without having to redress. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. And I, for one, would be pleasantly surprised to discover that you have some amount of self-control.”