Part One: Jaejoong is curious about yaoi. Yunho has a few answers.
Rating: R (NC-17 Overall)
Plunny gifted by: thuggedoutchick. Honey, please forgive me for taking liberties. I fear I've subverted your plunny. This is the first part of a two-parter. I hopefully will get the other part done in a week. It's a bit of a crack!fic. But made with love :D
Jaejoong slipped into the bedroom he shared with Yunho and Yoochun, his eyes furtively glancing down the hall towards the main room where the others were watching television. Saying he had a headache, he’d already begged off watching a movie with them, dragging his feet as he walked down the long hallway. It took nearly all of his self-control not to sprint down length of the corridor. It took even more of his patience not to lock the door behind him.
Enforced privacy in a household of young men usually led to knowing winks and teasing, all of which the young singer wanted to avoid. It was bad enough that he was sneaking off. He’d never hear the end of it if the others found out why.
The crinkle of the plastic bag sounded so loud in Jae’s ears when he dug it out from under his fitted sheet. He’d shoved it under the mattress of his bed when he’d come home from shopping the other day. Unable to take a peek at the bag’s contents until today, he’d slept on the package for nearly three nights, imagining the plastic’s rustling noise was audible against the silence of their sleep.
He’d spotted the book as the group was shopping in a nearby mall. Its bright colours drew him in. When he approached the window, Jae’s throat closed up and his mouth went dry.
The two people wrapped around one another, their mouths and tongued tangled into a passionate kiss, were both men.
Jaejoong’s heart pounded, rattling hard against the slats of his ribcage. A strange, hot flush worked up from his neck and stole into the breadth of his cheeks. The tingle at the back of his neck begged for something. There was a want there, burning up from inside of his belly and spreading into every inch of his limbs.
His hand trembled as he looked about, watching for prying eyes around him. The world he lived in had many eyes, often unseen and peeking over his shoulder. He could no longer stroll casually through a train station or window shop at a store. He certainly wouldn’t dare picking up a book with two men kissing on the cover. The beauty of it caught Jaejoong and sucked him in. Colours and forms were liquid and erotic, a splash of sensuality formed from someone’s hand and skill. He’d seen it from across the room and had to touch it, feel it and have the rush of eroticism under his fingers.
Grabbing at the book, he ducked around a corner of the store, his dark hair a filmy curtain over his eyes. Glancing about, he saw no one other than the manager and Yoochun, both hovering over magazines from America. With any luck, Jaejoong could glance at the art and put it back, convinced that he was merely curious and would be fine once that curiosity was quenched.
He couldn’t explain the sensations. He didn’t even have time in that moment to examine the whys of his body’s reactions. Jaejoong only knew his legs moved forward as his mind remained clouded in a haze. The manga was in his hands before he knew it. Then paid for and slid into a purple plastic bag, the clerk smiling and bowing a thank you before moving onto the customer behind him.
As if the stealthy purchase was commonplace.
It was as if Jaejoong always nonchalantly strolled into a bookstore and plucked erotic illustrated novels from a shelf then plopped it onto the counter, handing over cash before rejoining the others. No one said anything. No whispered behind a held up hand. Nothing untoward at all.
Except for the pounding of his heart in his chest.
In the quiet of his shared bedroom, Jaejoong opened the manga slowly, then gasped, unprepared for the breathlessness that seized him when he stared down into the parted pages.
Amid the bold black and white were intimate acts, drawn without reserve or caution to the reader. Long legs hooked over shoulders and delicate faces were thrown back, mouths wide open and caught in mid-pant. Ecstasy was drawn into every line.
Jaejoong slammed the manga shut before his face was consumed by the fire rising from his blood.
He’d flirted with fan service, an engulfing obsession he was partially aware of but had paid it no mind until he’d gotten the script for Dangerous Love. Suddenly, in those pages, he was going to be crossing a line he was ill prepared to even venture near. He’d avoided Yunho for nearly two weeks after that filming, keeping his interactions with the slightly younger man down to as little as possible.
His face still burned when he thought of the embraces they’d shared on that set. His body thickened when he thought of the dip of his body against Yunho’s hips, their legs tangled around one another.
The images contained in the pressed paper covers flushed those feelings back up into his face, a simmering heat that seared along his cheeks and traveled down his throat until it closed up around the pressure.
“What do you have there?” Yunho’s soft voice rumbled, startling Jaejoong. The leader had stolen into the room, concerned about Jae’s health and the headache the other had begged off with. “Let me see it.”
At the sight of the other man, Jae choked, a tendril of spit slithering down his throat. He bent over, coughing loudly and tapping at his chest to clear his airway. Alarmed, Yunho hurried to his friend’s side, shoving aside the bag and book on the bed and rubbed at Jae’s back, pounding lightly between his shoulder blades.
“Boo, are you okay?” Yunho’s brow creased, not believing Jaejoong when the other nodded. “Do you want me to get you some water?”
Jaejoong shook his head, his face hidden by his dark hair. Bent over, the black froth hung forward, brushing at his flushed cheeks. A slice of pale skin peeked out at Yunho along Jae’s neck, the tender area coyly peering out from behind the parted silken curtain.
“I’m okay,” Jae finally was able to catch his breath. He gripped the edge of the bed, over-warm and nerves tingling. Yunho’s hands on his back felt good, a comforting touch he’d grown too used to. “Thanks.”
The other slid back around to sit besides his friend. Reaching for the bag and book, Yunho picked them up from the floor where they’d fallen. Turning the manga over, he grinned at the cover. Wagging the book under Jae’s nose, he teased. “You’re reading yaoi? Hah! You’re such a pervert!”
“Ah! Give me that!” Jae lunged for the book, tumbling over Yunho’s lap and tried to reach the manga. The young man held it aloft, twisting his body to keep it from the singer. Scissoring his legs, Yunho trapped Jae’s hips, turning to hold him against the mattress. Leveraging his heavier body over Jae’s, he lay across the other’s stomach, effectively pinning him to the bed.
“I didn’t know you read this kind of stuff,” Yunho flipped open the cover, whistling under his breath at the graphic eroticism illustrated in his pages. “This one is pretty hot. I don’t think normal people can bend like that.”
“I didn’t know you could read,” Jae muttered, trying to reach Yunho’s side with his teeth. Unable to get loose, he gnashed at the skin exposed by Yunho’s twisted up shirt, barely able to skim his incisors along the other man’s ribs. “Let me up! You’re heavy.”
“No, you stay there. I haven’t seen this one before,” The young man ignored his squirming friend, locking his ankles together and holding tight. Jae had good upper body strength, he’d experienced that phenomena more than once, Yunho still retained a hefty advantage in his legs, easily keeping his wriggling friend contained. “Keep that up all you want. I want to read this. It’s different from the ones I have.”
Jaejoong stopped his struggling. His ears were burning and his mind wasn’t sure if he’d heard what Yunho said. The heat of Yunho’s body was searing into his belly, the other man’s hip rubbing along the sensitive dip of his pierced navel. Panting from over-exerting himself, Jae drew huge mouthfuls of air into his lungs.
The singer lay there, considering his options. Yunho wouldn’t release him. His perversions had already been found out by the leader. There wasn’t much more he could do. Save die of embarrassment between Yunho’s clenched legs. All in all, Jaejoong considered, that wasn’t a bad way to die.
The random thought made him hot with shame and… something else he couldn’t put his finger on. Pushing that emotion aside, Jae used the one weapon he had available to him. The single last ditch effort he rarely employed because of the sheer power it had over the other man.
Tilting his head up, Jaejoong arched his neck and stared wide-eyed into Yunho’s smug and triumphant glare. Licking the ripe curve of his bottom lip, he took a small breath, just enough for the words he had to say. Whispering, he went lax between the other’s strong thighs, softening his rigid body then spoke.
“You’re hurting me.”
It had its desired effect. Yunho released him nearly instantaneously, pulling Jaejoong onto the middle of the bed and sliding him against the wall. The book lay forgotten, cast aside onto the pillows, as Yunho’s hands gripped Jae’s slender waist. Sitting up, the leader ran one palm down over Jae’s leg, settling on the knee the singer injured. Long used to checking for swelling, Yunho’s fingers explored the area, lightly skimming down into the crevices around Jae’s kneecap, searching for any sign of inflammation.
“Boo,” His hands moved slowly over Jae’s long legs, cupping under the joint and bending it, testing it for a too-often familiar crispy rice feel of a recurring injury. “Does this hurt?”
Yunho’s worried look gave Jae flared a twinge of guilt deep into his guts. Reaching over to place his hand over Yunho’s probing fingers, he shook his head then went silent as Yunho’s touch traveled up to his hip, pressing down on the rise of bone and then into the hollow above his thigh.
“Does this hurt?” Bending over his sprawled friend’s body, Yunho lowered his head, carefully watching Jae’s blushing face. “I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“It just was straining,” Jae stammered, unsure of how to explain away the slight lie he’d told. “I’m okay.”
“You have to let me know when I do something like that, Joongie-ah,” Yunho pursed his lips, hissing through the space. “The members will never forgive me if I end up hurting you. I don’t want to have to face Min and tell him I hurt his favourite hyung.”
“Okay,” Nodding, Jaejoong righted himself, nearly spilling over Yunho’s body. They tangled together for a brief moment, all legs and arms until Yunho extracted himself from the other’s limbs. Stretching out onto his stomach, Jae reached for the book, hoping the other had been distracted enough to forget about the manga.
“Ah, no,” Yunho snatched it free from Jae’s grasp, holding it up. Sliding his hips over the bed, he pressed Jae back the wall, his greater body weight creating a firm obstacle between the singer and the yaoi. “It’s still not going to be yours.”
“Yunnie-ah, the others might come in,” Jae whispered out his fears, letting them sink into Yunho’s consciousness. “I don’t want…”
“They won’t come in. They’ve gone out,” The leader smiled, opening the cover to read the synopsis on the first page. “The movie was boring. One of the staff told them about a dance club that Changmin can get into. They went there.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“No, I wanted to stay home and make sure you were okay,” He let out a slow, sensual moan, just loud enough to be heard over Jae’s heavy breathing. “This book is hot. Where did you get it?”
“At the bookstore in the mall,” Jae murmured. The press of Yunho against him was a warm blanket over his stomach and thighs. Propping himself up onto one elbow, he rested his chin on his friend’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you liked these. Hey, you called me a pervert for just buying one and you read them all the time.”
“I never said I wasn’t one too,” Yunho admitted, giving Jae a glance over his shoulder. “You remind me of some of the boys in them. Sometimes when you’re hurt, I think of you as Naoyuki Akiyoshi from Lovely Sick.”
“What’s that about?” Jaejoong settled against Yunho, comfortably draped over the other’s body. They were close, too close sometimes for the liking of those around them but the singer enjoyed having someone who took care of him and more importantly, secretly loved having Yunho’s attention drawn to him whenever they were a few feet apart.
“It’s about a young man who is injured and his lover, the doctor,” Yunho turned a page. The press of Jaejoong’s body didn’t go unnoticed in his mind, or from the heat along the inside of his thighs, his own libido. “Sumi, the doctor, wonders if his lover, Naoyuki Akiyoshi, will need him after he’s been healed. He wonders if the only reason Naoyuki is with him is because he’s dependent on him.”
“That’s sad,” Jae’s pout created a slight shadow over his chin. “Does he leave him? Does he leave the doctor when he’s well?”
“I don’t know,” The other shrugged, careful not to dislodge the singer from his shoulder. “I don’t have all of the series yet.”
“Why do I remind you of… what was his name?”
“That Naoyuki… why do I remind you of him? Because I was hurt?”
“Partially,” Yunho admitted slowly, unsure of how much he wanted to share with the other man. “Maybe also because I’m like the doctor and I’m afraid you won’t need me any more if you’re fully healed.”
Jaejoong stopped breathing. He could hear himself take in air but the sweet richness of Yunho’s slightly sweaty body was all he could taste in his lungs. There was nothing but Yunho in his world. His own body, traitorous and beguiling, slid closer against the other’s back, pressing hard against his shoulders. The stutter of his heart betrayed him. Jae knew he was still alive, just captured in the amber of those so-heartbreakingly-said words.
“I will never not need you, Yunnie-ah,” He murmured, his mouth on the rise of the other man’s arm.
Yunho gave a curt nod, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed the only other sign that he heard the other’s whispered confession. The sound of a page turning broke the silence between them, a pregnant noise that led to an image of a couple of men held in thrall.
“This is pretty graphic,” Yunho said, a hushed admiration in his voice. “The artist is good.”
“Do you think…it’s okay that men love like this?” Jaejoong heard himself ask. “Do you think that it’s really as enjoyable as it seems?”
Those words… a stuttering wondering that he’d held inside of him for so long… were finally free and out in the open. It seemed to the singer that everything he was or could be was suddenly out in the open, splayed apart and wanton for the other to dip his fingers into.
“I know it is,” Yunho twisted slightly, looking over his shoulder at the other man. Touching Jae’s lower lip with the tip of his index finger, he asked. “Do you want me to show you? Do you want me to kiss you like this guy is kissing his boyfriend?”
“You’re not like that,” Jaejoong shook his head, pushing Yunho away from him. The flat of his palms met the other’s hard back, and the man’s heavier weight refused to budge under Jaejoong’s pushing. “Stop teasing me.”
“You’re curious,” He shrugged, turning back to stare at the pages. “And no, I’ve never done that. It’s sick.”
“Then don’t play,” The singer hissed, struggling to break loose from Yunho’s warm body. He got a leg free and pushed himself off the bed, resting his foot against the bed. He was firm in his indignation until he saw Yunho’s smirk and knew the other man was teasing. Cocking his head, Jaejoong stood over the other, straddling the leader with a foot on either side of Yunho’s waist.
“What?” Yunho stared up the long length of Jae’s leg, stopping briefly at the peek of skin he could see of the other’s hard stomach then traveled up to meet the older man’s eyes. The chilled blue of Jae’s contacts failed to ice over the warmth of his naturally dark eyes.
“You act like you’re so big sometimes. Like you are so brave,” Jaejoong accused, sliding down to sit on the other side of Yunho’s prone body. “You poke and tease and then swagger away. You’re probably more scared of kissing me than you want to admit. You call me a pervert but you’re the one with all of the books!”
“I told you that because I didn’t want you to feel bad,” Yunho blew off Jaejoong’s taunts with a wave of his hand, preferring to go back to his reading. Tapping the page showing a pair of men’s tongues tangled together, he said. “I don’t have that many and certainly not like this one. ‘Sides, I don’t think you could kiss this good.”
Infuriated, the singer gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath in before flinging his last barb, a well-placed challenge at Yunho’s ego. “Fine.”
“Fine?” The leader rolled his eyes, prepared for one of Jaejoong’s ultimatums. He would probably have to endure a day or two of silence or pointed looks before the flighty singer forgot he was angry and began flirting again. He could stand a few days of coaxing the other man out of a hot funk. Even better, he could ignore Jaejoong and spend his time with one of the others, driving Jae insane from the lack of attention.
“Fine,” Jae spat back. Turning to face Yunho, he shoved at the other man’s shoulders. “Show me how to kiss, then.”
He made a face at the singer, sticking his tongue out. He couldn’t believe Jaejoong’s boldness or the fury in the other’s eyes. What Jae was asking crossed more lines than he could even comprehend. “You’re crazy. Go take a cold shower or something.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jae taunted. “All talk and nothing behind it. I’m going to take a shower. A hot one. You don’t get me bothered enough to need a cold one.”
He wasn’t sure how he ended up against the mattress. Even more perplexing was the tilted view of the world he’d gotten before he was pressed into the pillows. What Jae was sure of was the feel of Yunho’s grip on his upper arms and the press of the inside of the leader’s thighs against his hips. The room continued to spin for a moment then settled down, filled with Yunho’s handsome face.
Yunho stared down at his friend’s beauty. Nearly flawless ivory gleamed over delicate bones, a dark beauty spot stood out against one cheek and another on the bridge of Jae’s nose. Restrained, Jaejoong struggled lightly, more from fallen dignity than anger or fear. Yunho shifted, resting his buttocks against the other’s thighs as he leaned forward and inhaled the sweetness of Jaejoong’s body.
With his chin tilted up, Jae glared back in defiance, silently daring Yunho to do his worst. He’d poked at the other’s pride too hard but what could the other do? Yunho was basically powerless to hurt him, as much restrained by his inability to see Jaejoong in pain as Jae was held down against the bed, trapped by Yunho’s strength. He raised his chin up even further, cocking his head slightly in challenge.
It was that final tilt that pushed Yunho over the edge. That and the small dart of a tongue tip along the side of Jae’s mouth. Yunho groaned, wondering if the other man even realized he licked his lips as if he were dabbing the most delectable sugary tidbit from it. But then, the leader realized, Jaejoong probably didn’t realize how sweet he looked when pressed against soft pillows.
Jaejoong’s upper lip always reminded Yunho of a strawberry. Its shape and colour often drove the leader into heated distraction, usually while they were on stage or on camera. The bow-shaped ridge draped down, dimpled at the tip and sometimes stained red from a sip of cranberry juice. A peek of white teeth drove him wild and there were times when he wanted to trace along the wet trail that the singer left behind when he roamed his tongue over his upper lip.
Yunho spent a lot of time telling himself that it was normal to lust after someone as beautiful as Jaejoong. That he wasn’t gay because he found the singer erotic. It was healthy to respond to someone as sensually gorgeous as Jaejoong. Or so he kept telling himself.
He also spent a lot of his time in the shower imagining his thumb was the curve of Jae’s mouth when he ran it over the head of his sex.
Right now, he was going to spend a lot of time on Jae’s mouth. Ignoring, or rather inflamed, by the mewl of protest that whimpered from that maddening mouth, Yunho lowered his head and captured Jaejoong’s breath.
It was as sweet as he’d imagined. Nothing he’d ever tasted could compare to the succulent flavour he found past those pink lips, a slithering honey unique to the infuriating singer that drove him insane. Yunho slowed his pressing kiss, dipping his head down and slanting his head, coaxing every last bit of gasping need Jaejoong had tucked inside of his body.
Teasing another moan from the strawberry kiss of Jae’s mouth, Yunho felt a thrill scream across his chest, burrowing down past his belly and go straight to his groin. Releasing one of Jae’s arms, he knotted his fingers into the other’s dark hair, holding Jae in place as he deepened his exploration.
Jae’s mouth bloomed under his tongue, sliding open into a welcoming pout. Yunho pressed in, nearly leaning fully onto the other’s chest. The burr of Jae’s tongue ran tingles against the roof of his mouth, and he fought the urge to suck on its tip, needing to soothe the fury he still sensed in Jae’s body.
“Open for me, baby,” Yunho heard himself say into Jae’s parted lips, his mouth capturing Yunho’s plea.
Responding, Jaejoong opened up further, allowing Yunho’s tongue to push in and lick at the taste he found there. The frantic pounding of Jae’s heart told Yunho he was affecting the other man as much as he was being turned on by having the other’s writhing body under him.
His body wanted Jaejoong. Yunho knew that. He also knew that if he pushed, he could have Jae naked and on his stomach, opened for his intrusion. Jae wanted him nearly as much as he needed the singer. The press of hardness against his thigh told him that Jae’s lust had been stoked. He wondered how insane it was that he didn’t care who walked in on them. Yunho just wanted to be buried into the hot, sleek moistness of his friend’s body.
“God, Boo,” Yunho gasped, finally breaking the kiss and finding his reflection in Jae’s lust-widened eyes. “I think I need to show you more than just kiss.”