Done for: hosu_yongwonhi
Drops of rain turned the coffee shop window into a kaleidoscope, fracturing Tokyo into cabochon diamonds. The shop was mostly empty, the early morning hours lean of clientele. Outside, the street traffic was sporadic, the young and hip going for a last round of drinks or an hour or two of karaoke before hitting a noodle soup. Behind the counter, a barista steamed a bucket of soy milk, rousing a head of foam on the hot liquid.
Junsu sat in a far corner of the shop, his head leaning against the window. The cold glass felt good against his temple, the heat of his body steaming a wave of frost over the pane. Distracted by the bright colours and lights outside, he didn’t see the barista place his order on the table. It wasn’t until the scent of the Earl Grey latte perfumed the air around him did Junsu shake himself loose from his thoughts and his gaze fell on the porcelain white mug in front of him.
A dark swirled heart danced on the foamed soy milk, the final touch of artistry the coffee shop was known for. The patterns were random, sometimes a heart, other times a flower and once he’d gotten a cat’s face which made him smile. Tonight’s design struck him hard, the frantic beat of his heart nearly drowned out by the torrential downpour slashing through the night air.
He dipped the spoon into the foam, breaking apart the heart. It dissipated, floating off into the corners of the mug. The bubbles clung to the spoon’s bowl and Junsu lifted it to his mouth, slipping the rim past his lips. Sliding his tongue along the warm silver, he turned it around until it pressed up against the roof of his mouth. He dropped the spoon onto the saucer, a clatter lost in the bustle of espresso machines and chatter of the shop staff.
The warmth made him ache. Closing his dark eyes, he swallowed, carrying the taste of the tea into his belly. His lashes held back his tears, the hot line of water on his lids trembling as he ground his fists into face, trying to wash away the pain of his memories.
Hot on the roof of his mouth, the spoon left a sear, reminiscent of the heat of Yunho’s tongue on his own. A tear fell, then another until a line of sorrow ran over his cheek and onto his shirt, soaking through the fabric. He bit at his lip, struggling to keep his emotions under control.
“I’m not going to cry for him,” Junsu muttered, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands. “I’m not going to let him hurt me. Not again.”
Their fight had been cataclysmic, a screaming match that soon bordered on hysterical when Yunho walked out, slamming the door behind him. The frame rattled and the wall shook, a tremble Junsu felt down in his bones. Neither wanted to give, their masculinity and egos bruised from hastily flung words. He couldn’t remember what started it, either his own anger at being shoved into the back of the group or Yunho’s stepping into the spotlight and his pride at being there.
“God forgive me,” Junsu bent his head, running his fingers through his short hair. “I should be happy for Yunho. He’s worked so hard and has accomplished so much but all I think of is me. Why can’t I shed this pride?”
“I like your pride.”
Yunho slid a chair over, his knees touching Junsu’s legs. His hands roamed over the younger man’s shoulders, fingers finding the trail of tears drying on Junsu’s silken skin. He ached to kiss away the pain in the other’s eyes, laving off the salty anguish pearling on Junsu’s cheek. Unable to resist, he ran his thumb over the man’s mouth, wiping away the marks Junsu made with his teeth on his lower lip.
“I’m sorry.” They both spoke at the same time, Yunho erupting into a low, rumbling chuckle as Junsu pressed his knuckles to his mouth to suppress a giggle.
“Go first,” Yunho licked the side of his mouth, his tongue darting over the spot that he longed to touch on Junsu’s face. A spot of foamy cream speckled the tenor’s lips, a seductive siren of promised sweetness along the line of Junsu’s mouth. He touched the fleck, wiping it off and bringing the touch of foam to his tongue.
“I am happy for you,” Junsu said softly, bending his head closer to Yunho’s until their foreheads touched. Murmuring between them, the heat of their mingled breath warmed his heart, sending a flush over his face. “I really am happy for you. Every time I see you dance, I feel so proud. I should celebrate that and instead, I thought only of myself. I am so sorry, hyung.”
“I should apologize too,” Yunho cupped Junsu’s face, sliding his fingers under the other’s earlobe. Playing with the silver hoop Junsu wore, Yunho smiled when the younger man tilted his head to fill Yunho’s hand with the rise of his cheek. It was a familiar touch, another casual fit of their bodies.
Their forms slid against one another, easily working together into a symbiotic dance. Junsu’s knee slid between Yunho’s legs, fitting against the press of the older man’s thigh. His hands rested on Yunho’s hips, fingers slipping into the loops of his leader’s jeans. Yunho’s hands cupped the back of Junsu’s head and neck, caressing at the nape until the younger man bit down on his tongue to stop himself from moaning loudly.
“I’ve been selfish,” Yunho admitted. “I’ve liked being out in the front and being in the spotlight. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and I should have stopped and thought about how you were feeling.”
“No…” Junsu started to say but Yunho moved his hand, running the ball of his thumb over Junsu’s mouth.
“Shh, let me finish,” The older man said. “I’m not just Jung Yunho. I’m also the leader of the group. I should take care to promote everyone not just myself. I let you down. And I’m sorry. I never want to hurt you, Susu. Never.”
“I was…” His argument was lost, captured against the roof of his mouth like the cream of his latte. Yunho’s lips were on his own, a sweet soft touch that became more demanding as their tongues touched briefly at first then harder, laving at one another’s mouths.
The older man tasted of mochi and green tea, a hint of cream on Junsu’s mouth blending into Yunho’s mouth. A sigh escaped them, neither sure of who uttered the heavy breath of satisfaction when their tongues met again. Trailing his fingers along Junsu’s jaw, Yunho pressed his thumb against the other’s cheek, urging the young man to open his mouth and surrender to the passion of his want.
Junsu fell, drowning under the heady swirl of Yunho’s touch, the pout of his mouth sighing open until Yunho filled him. The tip of Yunho’s tongue glided over the ridges of Junsu’s palate, chasing away the flecks of foam left by the tip of the tea spoon. The tea’s fragrant richness only enhanced the subtle masculine peach of Junsu’s body, smoothed by the sweet soy cream in the latte.
Sucking at the taste of the young man, Yunho growled at the press of people around them, modesty keeping him from splaying Junsu out on the table and pouring a dollop of cream into the dip of his navel. He wanted to lick the young man clean, holding Junsu’s wrists as he explored every inch of Junsu’s creamy skin, coaxing every hard earned moan from the other’s mouth.
“Home, Yunnie-ah,” Junsu whispered. “Or somewhere I can touch you. Please.”
“Yes,” Yunho breathed, his heart echoing the pound in Junsu’s chest. “I want a cup to pour the tea into. I want to drip it over your body and suck you clean. Then, Susu-ah, you can touch me all you want.”