wedspawn ♥ (wedspawn) wrote,
wedspawn ♥

Wedspawn: Dishes and Conversation (SMM Universe)

Title: Dishes and Conversation (SMM Universe)
Author: wedspawn
Pairing: Yoosu
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17

YooSu find something to do during a storm.


Junsu enjoyed the feel of it on his body, its cool touch catching on the curves of his form. Sluices ran over his shoulders and down his side, hitting the roundness of his backside, drenching his clothes until the fabric twisted over his skin.

As he walked down the back streets of Tokyo, he reveled in the privacy of the rain, sending people scurrying from doorway to doorway, not looking at his face or giving him even the smallest of glances… other than the occasional odd look at his soaked through clothes. No one spent time looking at other people when the sky poured its guts out onto the streets. No, they were too busy hiding from the heavens to take a closer look at a pretty faced Korean boy as he walked past a billboard lit up with his face.

In the rain, under the clouds, he was simply Junsu, as faceless and anonymous as the people around him.

The storm hit Tokyo hours ago, gripping the city firmly in its fury and shaking it to the core. Lightning crackled through skyscrapers, jagged electrical spears arcing from grounding rods set into the roofs of the tall buildings. Junsu’s face shone white as he turned his eyes up, blinking away the rain to watch the sky dance with light, his mouth creased into a wide grin.

Stepping back, he nearly plowed into a light pole, banging the back of his head against the hard metal. Rubbing at the bump, he shamefacedly kept his eyes on the sidewalk but couldn’t repress the smile that tugged at his cheeks.

The apartment lobby floor squeaked under his wet sneakers and Junsu ducked past the desk attendant, sliding on the marble floor as he half-ran to the elevator. Cold air from the overhead fans chilled him down to the bones, the rain’s kiss turning to ice along his skin. Rubbing at his arms, he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the elevator to arrive before the attendant could see the puddles he was leaving on the pristine floor.

If anything, the ride up to the apartment was colder still. Shivering, Junsu muttered at the lack of heat, punching the button to their floor and wrapping his arms around his body to keep warm. Teeth chattering, he pulled at his pocket, trying to work the wet denim loose enough so he could retrieve his key. The others were gone, scattered about on their own business and he was beginning to get desperate for a shower.

“Come on,” Junsu coaxed the key into the lock. “Cold, cold, cold.”

Once inside, his fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. A flick of the light switch brought no reassuring glow and he realized that the world had gone dark around him. Outside, Tokyo simmered under generators, soft lights flaring off and on as the power grid struggled against the storm.

“Must have just happened.” Shuddering, he thanked God he’d not been in the elevator when the power went. The tight confined space would have driven him nuts if he didn’t freeze to death first.

He knew the living room well enough and with the faint glow from the outside, he maneuvered around the large sofa. The hallway would be problematic, no ambient light and the room he shared with Yoochun would be pitch black unless Junsu could find some candles first.

“Candles…” The kitchen drawers yielded nothing and his wet clothes were beginning to tighten on his arms. Frustrated, he tugged off the long-sleeved shirt, grateful for the still air in the apartment. “Jaejoong must have stolen all the candles.”

He wasn’t ready for the hand on his back or the tug on the back of his jeans. Junsu jumped, letting the drawer fall out of the slot as he back away, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic closed up his lungs and the back of his tongue tightened with fright as he faced his attacker. Crouched down, he gripped at the handle of something from the drawer, holding it aloft to fend off any blows.

Junsu breathed out a sigh of relief when a flash of lightning turned the room to shades of cloud grey and he saw who was looming over him. A burst of laughter escaped him, silver drops of sound as bright silver as the rain hitting Tokyo’s streets.

“Susu, it’s me.” Yoochun stared down at him, one eyebrow raised at Junsu’s crouching form. He flicked at the spatula Junsu was waving in front of him. “You scream like a girl.”

“Aish,” Junsu whacked him hard with the flat of the utensil, satisfied with the smacking sound it made. “You scared me. I thought I was alone.”

“Hey, stop hitting me,” Chunnie dodged one blow only to feint into another, the hard spatula leaving a light sting on his bare arm. Mocking Junsu’s yelp, he cackled at his lover, earning him another blow. “Hey!”

“Don’t sneak up on me.” Another thwack and Junsu squeaked, losing his weapon when Yoochun grabbed it from his hand. The utensil rattled across the counter when the other man tossed it away, skittering over the edge and into the sink basin.

“I wasn’t. I came out to see who was here.” Yoochun grinned, rubbing his smarting forearm. “I finished rehearsal early. Dongsaeng said he was going to go to the bookstore so I came home. I didn’t want to spend hours looking through books and then watching Changmin stare at people over a tea cup. I’d rather be bored at home.”

“Let me get out of these,” Junsu shivered, his chest rippling with goose bumps. “The rain was cold.”

“You’re not supposed to shower in it. You’re going to get sick.” Yoochun followed him into the back of the house, pulling out a towel from the linen closet. “Here, take that off, I’ll run a hot shower and rub you down.”

“The lights are out. Do we have hot water?” His jeans were a problem, the denim hugging his ass as he tried to work them loose. Finally tugging down the waistband, Junsu bit the inside of his cheek when his boxers slid down to the carpet, leaving him naked except for a half-unbuttoned shirt.

Yoochun stopped short and smiled at the sight of his lover’s discomfort. Tossing Junsu the towel, he tried the lights again, illuminating the bathroom when the switch clicked on. “Come here, Susu-ah. We’ll get you warm.”

Steam turned the shower’s glass walls opaque, a gentle mist creeping up over the edge and meandering through the bathroom. Junsu inhaled the sweet scent of lavender from the towel’s weave, then hooked it over a bar before shedding his shirt. Letting it drop to the floor with a moist plop, he stepped into the shower, letting the heat soak through him.

“Is this my shirt?” Yoochun asked, picking the garment up from the floor.

“No, it’s Jaejoong’s,” Junsu shouted over the spray, rubbing a bar of lemongrass soap on a scrub cloth. “He said I could borrow it.”

“He didn’t know you were going to go out dancing in the rain,” The baritone muttered darkly, trying to squeeze out the excess water from the fabric, wringing the shirt out over the sink. “Is this shoyu?”

“It might be. That or the chocolate pocky.” He shrugged, unseen behind the misty glass. “I’ll wash it. He’ll never know.”

“He’ll know,” Yoochun sighed. “I’ll try to get it out. He’s going to kill you.”

“Not Joongie-ah,” Junsu said as he soaped up his arms. “Yunho might but he’s the one who spilled the sauce on me. He said he’d buy hyung a new shirt if he complains. Let me finish here and I’ll help you. I know I can get it out.”

“This is why he doesn’t like you borrowing his clothes,” The baritone grumbled, mournfully looking at the stains on Jae’s shirt. “It would be easier to just buy him another shirt.”

“I told you that’s what Yunho-ah said,” Agreeing loudly, Junsu ducked under the spray of water, rubbing at the steamed glass so he could see through it. Pressing his mouth on the enclosure, he sent Yoochun a kiss through the pane, making loud sucking noises then pulling away to wash his hair. “Are you coming in here? Or am I taking a shower by myself?”

“By yourself,” Yoochun tsked at Junsu’s moaning complaint. “I’m going to make some ramen. We can eat in our room and get warm.”

“I have other ways to get warm,” The tenor grumbled, opening his mouth and filling it with water. Swishing the water around, he spat, listening to the squeak of his tongue against his teeth. “And they don’t involve soup.”

He smiled when he saw Yoochun had laid clothes out for him, a pair of old drawstring pants and a t-shirt that had seen better days. Rubbing out the excess water from his hair with a fluffy towel, he combed it out and shook it loose, feeling the natural freedom of it around his face. He could smell the ripe sweetness of miso and his stomach growled, his hunger awakened by the thought of ramen and Yoochun’s mouth.

“Junnie-ah!” The baritone called out from the bedroom. “Come on, it’s done. Get some food in you.”

“Ah, you sound like Jaejoong,” He tugged at the ties of his pants, folding them into a bow. “This smells good.”

“You smell good,” Yoochun murmured against Junsu’s neck, leaning over the tray of food to kiss the other man on the throat. The beat of Junsu’s pulse lay under the tip of his tongue and he licked at it, thrilled to feel the life beat under his mouth. Junsu’s hands rose, stroking at Yoochun’s hair, his fingers working down to his scalp and into soft circles around his temples. Pulling away reluctantly, Chunnie placed the tray on a side table, mocking Junsu’s pout with one of his own. “Eat. We can do that later.”

“I’d rather do that now,” Junsu said as his stomach grumbled loudly.

“Hah, see? I’m not having that thing you call a belly growl at me while I kiss you. You bite too hard when you are hungry.” He passed his lover a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. “I’m not a fishcake.”

“No, more like a piece of mochi, with strawberry paste in it.” Smiling at Yoochun, Junsu sat on the edge of their bed and cradled one of the bowls, holding it up to eat.

“Hold on,” Yoochun warned. He shook out a towel, placing it lengthwise on Junsu’s lap so it covered most of his crossed legs. “You make a mess when you eat. You’ll dribble all over the sheets then complain when it’s wet.”

“I complain? Who argues when they roll over onto the wet spot that they’ve made? Not me?”

“You keep moving towels,” Yoochun argued. “Or me. When you’re behind, we never stay in one place. You’re like a train, visiting each station on the bed.”

“Hah!” Junsu said around a mouthful of food, chewing furiously. He moved his legs so Yoochun couldn’t see the splatter drops on the towel. Maneuvering the bowl so it was under his chin, he scooped up another mouthful of noodles.

They talked as they ate, sharing what they did during the day. Yoochun told of Changmin’s attempt at learning their new dance, the younger man’s long legs flailing like a giraffe ice skating. The image made Junsu choke on his soup, pounding at his chest until the spasm stopped. Encouraged, Yoochun demonstrated, exaggerating their youngest’s long movements until Junsu couldn’t breathe.

“Stop, no more,” He begged, nearly toppling over his bowl. “Too much. Aish, poor Min-ah. He’s growing too fast.”

“He’s getting too tall. Pretty soon we’ll have to stand on a ladder to talk to him.” Chunnie nodded. “His head will get wet in a storm before his feet even know it started raining.

“Do you think he really went to the bookstore?” Junsu cocked his head at his lover, pursing his lips in thought. Their youngest snuck off by himself more and more lately, sometimes not coming home for dinner. Missing one meal wouldn’t be noticeable but he’d been out for nearly four dinners in one week and didn’t seem to be starving for it.

“Maybe he has a girlfriend?” Yoochun took the bowl from Junsu’s hands, slurping down the final mouthful of soup and stacking them on the table. “Or a boyfriend?”

“Maybe…” Laying back, Junsu let the thought trail off. “I can’t see our Min kissing someone without trying to figure out what angle would be best. Thirty degrees to the right? Will I miss her nose? Perhaps 45 degrees would be better. Wait, let me get out … what is that thing called? The one that measures angles?”

“Protractor,” Yoochun said in English, enunciating carefully. “I don’t know it in Japanese.”

“Protractor.” Junsu repeated. “Yes, that’s the one.” Putting his hands up, he mimicked an imagined Changmin measuring the angles of a kiss. “Here, hold still. This is the correct measurement for the proper kiss.”

“Ah, he’s not that bad.” Yoochun lay out on his side next to his lover. His fingers trailed up Junsu’s stomach, tickling at the sparse hair around the other man’s belly button. His mouth followed, leaving a moist path up his lover’s body. Mumbling against Junsu’s heated skin, Yoochun regretfully left a kiss and pulled back. “We should put the bowls away. If we forget them again, things will grow.”

Shuddering, Junsu nodded. “That was disgusting. It looked like Yunho’s hair when he was young. All sticking out straight from his head and different colours.”

“I dare you to tell him that.”

“I dare you to tell him why I said that,” He teased back, poking Yoochun in the ribs. “He doesn’t need to know we forgot a bowl in our room. He’d be in here every day digging around to look for another.”

Yoochun scurried down the hall ahead of Junsu, the younger man’s fingers pinching at the baritone’s thighs as he walked. Laughing, they bumbled into the kitchen, knocking into one another and elbowing the other out of the way. Rinsing the bowls, Yoochun turned to find Junsu sitting on the counter above the dishwasher, swinging his legs back and forth like a toddler on a swing.

“Move your legs.” He slapped at Junsu’s knee. “I need to put these in.”

“Nope, make me.” Junsu dared, locking his ankles together.

Yoochun pondered his dilemma, placing the bowls on the kitchen table behind him before turning back to regard his smiling lover. “Make you?”

Junsu nodded and leaned back on his hands, swinging his legs out further until his bare toes brushed Yoochun’s stomach. He gasped when the other man grabbed him by the ankles, Yoochun swiftly moving his legs apart and nestling between them. “Hey, no fair. I wasn’t ready.”

“You seem ready to me,” Yoochun murmured, licking at Junsu’s throat. He untied the drawstring of Junsu’s pants, sliding his fingers past the waistband and into his lover’s underwear. A throaty growl thundered through Junsu’s chest and the skies answered with a ripple of sound that shook the glass windows. The storm had moved above them, pounding against the building with sheets of rain and licks of lightning caressing the night’s clouds.

“Making me crazy, Chunnie,” Junsu gripped his lover’s shoulders, arching against the other’s mouth as his shirt was lifted and Yoochun’s tongue flicked over one of his nipples. Caught between wanting to lay back on the counter or tumble Yoochun to the floor, Junsu let himself be explored and stroked, panting when Yoochun leaned back and nipped at his earlobe.

“Lift up just a bit,” The baritone ordered softly. “I want to taste you.”

“We should go into the room,” Junsu said as he rose up on his hands. He couldn’t help himself, not when Yoochun’s eyes were dark and soulful, filled with want for him. No one wanted him as much as Yoochun did, no other mouth on his body felt as good. He’d been glad to lose himself in the other man, delightfully happy at their teasing love. “If someone walks in, they’ll kill us. No sex in the common rooms, remember?”

“No one’s coming in,” Yoochun disagreed. “Jaejoong and Yunho are out dancing and Changmin is doing whatever it is geniuses do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Less talking, more lifting,” He said, slapping at Junsu’s thigh. The pants slid off easily and Junsu’s boxers joined them, sliding into a puddle on the floor. Folding his lover’s shirt up, Yoochun pressed the flat of his hand on Junsu’s chest, leaning him back.

For a moment, he just stared at the other man, a stretch of bone and muscle laid out for him. Golden under the soft light he’d left on in the kitchen. With his hair down, Junsu looked vulnerable, nearly boyish, a contrast to the sensual, come-hither grin and the spark of want in his eyes. He knew every inch of the young man on the kitchen counter, but his mouth and body hungered for more.

His tongue darted to taste the other’s sex, lapping at the gape barely long enough for Junsu’s nerves to register the caress. He blew softly on the wetness, watching the skin on Junsu’s shaft tighten, elongating under the desire working through them both.

“Chun,” Junsu’s fingers gripped his lover’s shoulders, tightly digging into the hard muscles as Yoochun’s mouth suckled around the tip of his sex. Teeth raked softly around the rim of the head, pressing Junsu against the other’s rippled palate.

Yoochun drew back and forth, a slow descent into madness accompanied by the music of Junsu’s soft moans. A slight sweetness touched his tongue, the barest drip of Junsu’s body into the back of his throat. This was what he’d wanted… what he needed in his life. Junsu’s hands on his hot skin and the writhing of his lover’s hips against his cheek or thighs.

Junsu’s heft stretched his throat and Yoochun swallowed, holding his lover there as long as he could. Forced to pull back from the pressure, he stroked at the base of the other man’s sex, running his other hand up under Junsu’s leg to tilt him back.

The tiled edge dug into Junsu’s tender flesh and he reveled in it, the feel of Yoochun’s soft caress and the hard cold counter overwhelmed his senses. He let go, falling into the emotions rising to swallow him, nearly as consuming as the heat of his lover’s mouth around him.

It felt as if the lightning fell from the sky and filled Junsu, spreading under his skin and into his bones. With Yoochun’s mouth on him, he felt like he could reach out and touch the Heavens, pulling down stars and holding them to his heart. When he was inside of his lover, the stars came down and surrounded them, immersing them in a fiery pleasure he nearly couldn’t stand.

“Want to be in you,” Junsu murmured, reaching for Yoochun’s arms to pull him up. “Or you in me. Chunnie-ah. Something, anything. Just now.”

“Turn around,” The baritone urged, moving his mouth from the crux of Junsu’s legs, nuzzling his lover’s belly. He eased his hands under Junsu, steadying him as he slid from the counter. Splayed apart, the young man offered himself to Yoochun, growling with displeasure as the cold tile sent waves of shivers along his naked body.

A dollop of cooking oil from a bottle provided enough slick fluid to ease Yoochun’s fingers and he delved deep into his lover’s body, easing a long moan from the depths of Junsu’s tortured desire. The tightness eased, and Yoochun tilted up, hitting the core of Junsu’s pleasure. Delight ran through Junsu’s nerves, bringing him to a shivering tautness. Clenching his fists, the tenor mewled and lifted his knees, banging them against the dishwasher door, begging for Yoochun to surcease.

“Need me, Susu-ah?” Yoochun laved at the crest of his lover’s buttock, sliding his tongue down the cleft. A teasing bite left a small pink semi-circle, followed by another; blooming love blossoms on Junsu’s pale skin. He stroked at himself, readying for his lover. A drip of oil around his sex spread under his palm, and the moans coming from his writhing partner hardened Yoochun as much as one of Junsu’s deep, soul-touching kisses.

“Now, Yoochun,” Junsu growled, hooking his foot around his lover’s shin, pulling him closer. “Taking too long.”

“You’re always impatient,” He said, scraping his teeth along the luscious curve of Junsu’s backside. Yoochun wanted to take his time, to let Junsu shudder around him as he pushed into the other man’s heat.

The rattle of the front door froze them in place, their hearts now pounding for another reason. A querulous Jaejoong called out into the apartment, asking someone to come to the door to take off the chain lock. Besides Junsu’s hand, Yoochun’s cell phone rang; Yunho’s number appearing on the screen. They could hear the eldest member talking to his lover, wondering aloud if the other two were in the back bedroom and unable to hear them at the door.

“Oh my God,” Yoochun grabbed Junsu’s hips, sliding him off the kitchen counter. Whispering into his lover’s ear, he shoved the other man’s pants into his hands. “Put these on. Shit, they’re going to kill us if they find out we’re doing this here.”

“I told you!” Junsu hissed back, nearly toppling over as he tried to get his feet into his pants legs. “Wipe down the counter. Damn it, why did they come home so early?”

“Just go. Quick.” Running a damp sponge over the counter, Yoochun hoped to hide any evidence of their lovemaking. The dribbles of oil from Junsu’s body smeared and spread further, a slick pool that defied cleaning. “Shit, shit, shit. Hot water. I need hot water.”

“Here,” Changmin’s voice hurried them into action, a mad scramble to right themselves. “I can slide my hand in and get the chain off.”

“No one’s answering the phone,” Yunho’s voice carried down the short foyer and into the kitchen. “I can hear it ring. Chunnie must have left it in the front room.”

“I don’t see any lights on,” Jae said. “Chunnie! Open the door!”

The latch gave under Min’s long fingers and Yoochun heard it rattle against the door frame. Junsu fled down the hallway, grabbing his t-shirt off of the counter and skidding into the room he shared with his lover. Wildly looking for someplace to hide, Yoochun momentarily debated diving under the kitchen table when he spotted Junsu’s discarded boxers. The others would stop and take off their shoes, not enough time to eat the boxers. No, he decided, he would have to hide them.

“Fridge,” He had his hand on the door handle before he stopped, knowing Changmin would instantly head there first to look for something to eat. The cabinets were no good either, holding glasses and dishware that would be used nearly immediately. “Damn it. Why did you leave these behind, Susu?”

Panicking, Yoochun grabbed the boxers from the floor and shoved them into the dishwasher. Nearly caught, he turned on the water in the sink and set about washing the ramen bowls, pressing his hips against the kitchen counter and praying that no one could see his arousal.

“Chunnie-ah,” Jaejoong greeted him, carrying bags of groceries in and setting them on the counter. “Didn’t you hear us calling you?”

“Ah, no.” He grinned at his best friend, hoping he looked properly befuddled. “I was washing dishes. Water must have drowned you out.”

The world stopped, frozen as a telltale squeaking sound broke through the thunder from above. Turning, Yoochun watched with horror as their youngest cracked opened the dishwasher, its door creaking as it was lowered. He heard their youngest gasp then Changmin pulled back in horror, his eyebrows nearly a straight dark line over his nose as he extracted Junsu’s boxers from the dishes, the offending garment pinched between his fingers.

Behind clenched eyes, Yoochun wished his lover well as a gasping laughter erupted from Yunho and Jaejoong as Changmin began to rage, creating his own storm inside. “Keep me in your heart, Susu-ah, because I think I’m about to die for your boxers.”
Tags: dishes and conversation, lemon, nc-17, yoosu
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