still wearing an evil hat. just so you know ::::grins::: but it is yoosu! :D
They returned to one of the places that they first danced together. A place where they were two young men just finished being boys. Not singers or stars, just faces in the crowd where they could throw themselves into a steady driving beat that reminded them of the hot sweaty passion they shared in their bed.
In some ways, Sin was where their relationship was conceived, a birth place of their own goofy and intimate love. Junsu would always hold some part of the underground club in his heart and soul. He held Yoochun there too, as well as other places.
Fall brought a gush of rains, brushing the streets with a light dusting of water drops. Yoochun stood at the street corner, cupping his hand over the length of a cigarette, lighting the end and inhaling sharply. The acrid smoke burned his lungs, a harsh sear that tickled the back of his throat. Exhaling hard, he glanced at the cigarette, knowing the black tar in its tobacco was bad for him but the craving of his nerves demanded more than just a sip of tea and calm reassurances. Their lives were stretched nearly to a breaking point and the itch under his skin was merely a symptom of the greater ills that plagued their group.
Itaewon smelled. There was no getting around that hard fact. A district known for its excesses, Itaewon wore the same perfume as many of the whores walking by, a combination of desperation and the musky tinge of sex. Mingled in with shed blood, vomit and alcohol, Yoochun wondered why he was standing under a leaking overhang, smoking a cigarette in the dong’s stench.
The reason for it emerged from the arriving train’s doors, a lean, sensual reason that prowled towards him.
Junsu wore light coloured sunglasses despite the fact that the sun fell away from the sky hours ago. He’d dressed up for their evening out, a slim suit that hugged his legs and shoulders. The grey jacket fell straight down to his hips, neatly covering the sway of his butt. Yoochun liked how Junsu’s clothes fit him but mourned the loss of viewing the other man’s rear. In the baritone’s opinion, if anything was a sign of God existing, it was Junsu’s ass.
“Chunnie-ah!” The tenor smoothly sidled up next to him, a hand wrapping around Yoochun’s slender waist. “You made it here before me.”
He leaned in for a kiss then stopped, partially from the cigarette smoke coming from Yoochun’s parted lips but mostly from the glances from the people next to them. Behind them, a music store’s windows were bold with their faces, smiling and innocent pieces of paper that showed a life they led in front of a camera. Junsu wouldn’t threaten that life for anything. All five of the members worked too hard to bring it to fruition. A chance word and an ill-taken photograph would bring their world tumbling down around them.
That certainly was something Junsu wasn’t going to risk solely for a kiss. One day, perhaps, but for now, their affections would be expressed in the shadows where they were, for the most part, safe.
“Nice suit,” Yoochun remarked, stubbing out his cigarette on the top of an overflowing trash container. Tucking the butt into an empty can of energy drink lying on top of the garbage, he shrugged at Junsu’s perusal of his own jeans, hoodie and t-shirt. “I wanted to be comfortable. You like dressing up. Me, I like dressing down.”
“I like undressing you,” Junsu whispered into Yoochun’s ear before he stepped into the crowd’s flow, leaving the gaping-mouthed young man behind. Twisting around for a few steps, he motioned for the baritone to follow. “Come on, let’s get going.”
Yoochun unthinkingly came up to Junsu’s left side, walking shoulder to shoulder with the young man. The habit of stepping into the order the company placed them in brought a smile to Yoochun’s wide mouth. A quirk of Junsu’s lips told him that his lover thought of it too, their fingers brushing together as they walked.
The street was a better place to walk, a few steps to the side usually made way for the infrequent truck or car that might trundle down the busy district’s causeways but for the most part, the blacktop was filled with people, predominantly foreigners looking for a place to have a good time or someone semi-pretty to have it with. The alleys were nearly as crowded as the sidewalks and street, a more hidden place for illegitimate commerce. They ignored the whispering calls for their attention as they passed. Both men knew where they wanted to end up that night, a warm comfortable bed wrapped around each other’s bodies, not as a cold stiffened corpse stripped of anything that was valuable.
“You ever think that Jaejoong could have ended up like one of these guys?” Yoochun asked quietly, bending over to whisper into Junsu’s ear.
The tenor knew who Yoochun was comparing their lead singer to. Standing at a corner, a thin, pale waif of a man stood against a pole, his nicotine-stained fingers trembling as he lit a brown paper cigarette. Gaunt, his cheekbones stood out sharp when he pulled a breath to ignite the paper, his lips forming a cracked seal around the filtered end. Men passed the whore, giving him the barest of glances. He followed their progress with tired, jaded eyes, unwilling to muster enough energy to call out to them as they walked by.
“No,” Junsu replied with a shake of his head. He wouldn’t let Yoochun’s thoughts drift to the maybe-life of his best friend, of the man that his lover called brother. Yoochun didn’t deserve those nightmares, he reasoned to himself. “Jaejoong is ours. He’d never have ended up there. He was destined to be ours.”
The stairs to Sin was guarded by a large, tattooed-faced man. Yoochun was certain he was Maori but wasn’t brave enough to ask. The curlicue ink swirls mottling his broad cheeks and flat chin were fierce, lending a coldness to the man’s steely gaze. Nodding once at Junsu’s flashing membership card, the doorman unhooked the velvet rope from its fastenings and let the young men in.
Shedding his jacket, Junsu placed his cell into its breast pocket, handing it and Yoochun’s hoodie over to the coat check girl. Bereft of any electronics, the club served as a haven for them, a discreet scanner mounted over the black curtains hanging over the doorway to the main room. Ducking through the fabric, Junsu and Yoochun walked a short hallway and pushed through the soundproof metal doors, loud dance music keening through the open portal.
Junsu’s hips bopped to the music nearly as soon as he heard it. The sound of drums moved him, a buzz of an electronic beat shimmying along his soul. Grinning widely, he let the music carry him across the floor, feet shifting and moving to the groove. Holding his hand out to Yoochun, the tenor caught his lover’s fingers and dragged him under the flashing lights. Working his shoulders back and forth, Junsu slid up against Yoochun’s stomach, working his fingers underneath the other man’s shirt.
The music faded from Yoochun’s hearing when Junsu’s hand found the crest of his belly. Fingertips, a soft gentle mimic of the man’s teeth, scraped at his navel, moving up the line of muscles Yoochun sculpted after hours spent in the gym. He’d first gone to build up his stamina but the glazed over look in Junsu’s eyes when he stripped down for a shower nearly ensured Yoochun’s presence at the weights every day. He liked making his lover’s mouth dry with lust. He was more than happy to moisten Junsu’s lips with kisses.
Those fingers moved down his waistband, ruffling the fine hair below his belly button. His skin prickled, the spark traveled, carried on the music. It settled in his stomach and groin, blooming outward with a twist of sensual petals. No one but Junsu could do so much to him with so little.
There were others against him, pale ghostly shapes. Moving against him, they were as unsubstantial as the lights. Yoochun could feel their warmth but nothing else remained of their presence. A hand neatly slid between them but Junsu’s body pressed in, his arms lifting to rest on Yoochun’s broad shoulders. Steepling his fingers together, the tenor danced against the young man who held his heart.
Yoochun palmed Junsu’s butt, running over the firm globes. The fabric moved with a sleek whisper, curiously giving beneath his hands. Frowning slightly, Yoochun whispered his fingers back and forth on Junsu’s rear, feeling for the give of underwear.
“You’re not wearing briefs?” Yoochun murmured into Junsu’s ear. He stopped to lick at the tenor’s neck, drawn by the soft skin he knew was there. Velvet smooth against his tongue, Yoochun savoured the taste of his lover, licking up to nip at Junsu’s pierced earlobe, sucking on the small diamond he’d purchased for the tenor.
“Not briefs,” Junsu’s hands were more aggressive, sliding down the length of Yoochun’s trim body.
He liked what he felt. He wanted to spend hours feeling the tightness of his lover’s muscles, delving deep into the moist heat that he knew would snug up on his sex. Or feel the hardness of Yoochun’s heft stretching him, pulling at the skin of his body until he screamed himself raw. His lover’s length was perfect, as if made specifically to hit the sweet kernel nestled inside of him. Junsu shivered just at the thought of Yoochun plundering his body, their sweat mingling as they thrust their hips in an erotic dance.
“Not briefs?” Yoochun echoed.
“Nope,” Junsu slid his fingers around Yoochun’s wrist, guiding the other man’s hand to the waistband of his slacks. The gap of fabric was enough to shove his lover’s index finger past Junsu’s belt to the bare skin below. “I bought a thong at one of the shops Jaejoong took me too.”
“A thong?” The baritone’s voice jumped an octave, squeaking up the scale as he imagined Junsu’s ass spread apart by a thin strip of material. “God, you’re going to kill me.”
“No, Chunnie-baby,” Junsu sucked on Yoochun’s lower lip, sinking his teeth into the fleshy sweetness. “I intend to tie you to our bed and watch while I slowly strip off all of my clothes. Then, you can die while I take my time licking every single inch of your body. I’m going to get you as wet outside as I’m going to leave you inside. Maybe after that, I’ll breath life back into you and you can do me.”