Rating: Overall NC-17. Very Naughty
Shower Gel Provided by: ranalore
Summary: The beginning of a shifting relationship. Hot Korean boys. Sex. Dancing and some angry words. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily in each section.
Section One; Section Two; Section Three; Section Four; Section Five; Section Six;
Section Seven; Section Eight; Section Nine; Section Ten; Section Eleven; Section Twelve,
Section Thirteen; Section 14
Yoochun hushed the partially giggling Junsu, the other man resting his head on one of the foyer walls. They both had dissolved into fits of laughter in the cab ride home, snorting at nearly everything the other said, much to the disgust of the driver, his narrowed eyes shooting them looks in the rear view mirror. Yoochun could have sworn he passed out from lack of air when Junsu did an impression of BoA, trying to reach a note in her song that instead, slid over into an aria that only a dog could hear.
They overpaid the cabbie, sure that he would spend the night driving around and muttering about silly young men he picked up at a club, their clothes reeking of cigarettes and their minds filthy from laughter. It had taken Yoochun four times before he was able to slid his key into the lock, nearly snapping it in two when he turned it the wrong way. Junsu was no help, his arms finding their way around Micky’s waist, a mumbling protest that air was just too heavy on his shoulders and wouldn’t Yoochun just please help him hold it up.
Their progress through the apartment was steady, a round of hissing, shushing noises then a misplaced guffaw, muffled with fumbling fingers over wide mouths. A small snore from the broad, red couch in the living area froze the two friends in place, Yoochun fumbling for the light to the hallway, turning the dimmer until a low ambient glaze washed over the muted seagrass paint. Another noise, raw and masculine, then a flung arm as Yunho twisted to lie on his back, a thin blanket cast over his hips and tangling down around his legs.
“So..” Junsu peered out from around the larger young man, staring at a sleeping Yunho. A spill of throw pillows littered the floor, shaded lumps tossing shadow ogres against the rug on the floor. “I am guessing that they didn’t kiss and make up.”
“There aren’t any bruises on his face.” Yoochun tried to see through the shadows under Yunho’s arm, a slumberous veil hiding his features, looking for any telltale marks of Jaejoong’s anger.
“If Jaejoong were mad, he’d hit Yunnie-ah in the balls and then kick him in the stomach.” Junsu clutched at his own belly in sympathy. “He wouldn’t leave any marks that the makeup artist would have to cover up. He’s very considerate.”
Yoochun waited until opened the door at the end of the hall, turning off the lights when the other singer made it into their bedroom. Holding the wall, his balance slightly impaired by rounds of rum and Coke followed by a lack of oxygen from laughing too hard, Micky walked steadily, following the ridge of the chair molding. Junsu flicked on the lamp between their beds, falling backwards onto his pillows, glad to be back in the tight womb he shared with Yoochun.
Tugging at the soft plush under his neck, Junsu pulled his lavender rabbit out from under him, setting the toy on his chest. Sighing in happiness, the young singer looked about the room, a wide grin over his happy face. Things were oddly different, a welcome hang of clothes on a chair… his own stack of sports magazines on the end table on the other side of his bed. A pair of slippers peeked out from Yoochun’s bedskirt, a floppy worn blue terrycloth end winking from its hiding place. Everything was as it should be… the nights would once again be filled with whispers and shared secrets.
“It’s nice that things are back to how they should be.” Junsu sighed again, lifting his head to stare at Yoochun standing in the doorway. “What?”
“The light is on across the hall.” Micky glanced over his shoulder, nodding with his chin towards the other bedroom. He really wanted nothing more than to perhaps take a shower and then lay down in his bed, listening to Junsu ramble until he finally nodded off, laughter slowly working free from his voice as sleep filled the singer in the bed next to him. A twinge of responsibility echoed, the thought of his young friend lying in an empty room with Jae’s thoughts prodding at the guilt of wanting Yunho. “Joongie-ah is still awake.”
“He might have fallen asleep with the light on.” Junsu reasoned, turning to rest on one elbow. His other hand ruffled at his mane of hair, trying to get the feel of sticky gel from the strands. “Or you could go check on him. Maybe turn it off or get lost in an hour or so of talking.”
“I could go check on him but not more than an hour of talking.” Yoochun agreed, sniffing at his shirt. The night clung to the weave, a motley collection of odors reeking of sweat and clandestine adventures. “Then I think I should shower before I go to bed.”
“You go talk to him.. and I know you, you’re going to be there until he falls asleep. I …however…I’m going to bathe. Take a nice long hot shower… no one banging on the door and yelling at me to hurry up.” The singer stretched his arms over his head, sitting up before working his shirt from his lean body. “Maybe I’ll use up all the hot water too.”
“You better not.” Micky warned him. “I’ll drag you from the shower if I have to. I stink.”
“Maybe I won’t let you.” Junsu teased, his grin wicked and a gleam in his eye. “I might share the shower though. If you’re nice to me.”
Micky’s knock on the door went unanswered, no lilting response from the lead singer. Slowly cracking the door open, Yoochun peeked in, staring at a long-bodied Jaejoong lying prone on his bed, his comely face turned towards the window cut high in the wall. A pair of headphones covered his ears, shutting the world out with a barrage of song, the gentle thump of electronica seeping out of the pads. Jae’s fisted hand rested on his mouth, his lips parted against a knuckle, eyes lost in a thoughtful stare at the night just beyond the glass.
Yoochun’s weight on the bed startled the singer, his body jerking tight. Jaejoong sat up, scrambling back to lean against the corner of the room, nearly kicking the taller singer in the leg. Chuckling, Yoochun slid back, waiting for his restless friend to settle down. With the wall supporting him, Jaejoong shook his head at Micky’s intrusion, sliding the headphones off of his head, resting them in his lap. A flick of his nimble fingers paused the music player, a splash of red on the piles of white pillows Jaejoong nested against as he slept.
“I think you made me swallow my tongue.” Jaejoong accused his friend, swallowing hard at the pounding in his throat.
For a moment, he’d thought the weight on his bed was Yunho and he dreaded having to wrestle with his desires. The lead singer knew he wouldn’t be able to turn the other away, wanting the feel of Yunho’s hands on his body. There were parts of him that ached, needed the insistent feel of the leader’s fingers on him… in him. He’d had more than his share of lewd proposals, a slithering dirty whisper in the cup of his ear as fingers pushed at the waistband of his jeans. Those touches always made Jaejoong feel as if he could never wash the filth from his soul. Yunho’s stroking at him felt different, a fresh warmth spooling into his belly. It was that promise…that seductive purr of a touch.. that drove Jaejoong to risk his heart once more on Yunho’s flickering needs.
“You don’t have any bruises on you either.” Micky lightly grabbed at his friend’s chin, turning Jae’s face so the light filled in the hollows under his dark, luminous eyes.
“I can’t talk with you smushing my face.” Jae mumbled past Yoochun’s pressing fingers. Micky released him, hooking his arm over the singer’s shoulders, pulling him to a hug. They sat there for a time, resting their weary bodies on one another’s strength. Jaejoong caught a whiff of Micky’s shirt, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “You stink.”
“That’s what I told Junsu. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Micky held the shirt to his nose, plucking at it with his fingers.
“No, it’s fine. God knows I’ve come in smelling worse.” Jaejoong recalled the night he stumbled into the apartment, bruises left by Yunho’s fingers spread over his upper arm. “He kissed me tonight, Yoochun, and it was all I could do not to melt under him. “Fuck, I want him so much.”
“He kissed you, huh?” Yoochun grinned amid the brush of Jaejoong’s hair. “And now he’s sleeping on the couch?”
“We both agreed that would be best.” Jae nodded, burying his cheek into his friend’s chest, listening to Yoochun’s heart beat beneath his ribcage. “Well I agreed. He came up with it.”
“Did you like the kiss?” Micky asked, curious about Jae’s reaction.
“I wasn’t expecting it.” The vocalist admitted, softly, turning over. Yoochun supported Jae’s shoulders, guiding the young man until his head rested in Micky’s lap, his pretty face open to the light from the overhead fixture.
‘I can’t even describe it to you. It’s like if chocolate were melted out of an ice cube. You expect water to hit your throat, stale from being trapped in the frozen ice but instead, warm and sweet liquid pours onto your tongue.” Jae gulped, smiling at Yoochun’s fingers in his hair, a gesture to soothe and calm so familiar between them. “There’s just enough so there’s the taste and you swallow, wanting to make it last but there’s only so little… only so much that you can suck clean from the ice and then… it’s water again.”
“That’s what it was like, Chunnie-ah.” Jaejoong brushed at the moistness on his lashes, trying to wipe the old tears he’d shed in the quiet of his solitude. “I don’t ever want to drink water again.”
The light in his eyes nudged Yunho awake, a shimmer of gold just under his lashes. Giggles, sublimated by muffled whispers told the leader that Yoochun and Junsu had finally crawled home, the pair rarely ever able to come in quietly. He lay there under the protection of his ebbing sleep, listening to the two singers walk down the hall to their bedroom. A few minutes later, a gentle knock and the soft voice of Micky asking Jaejoong if he were awake reached his ears, any answer lost with the door closing.
Turning onto his stomach, Yunho clutched at the tiny blue pillow he’d taken from Jaejoong’s arms right before the young man headed back to the bedroom to sleep. He listened, his ears pressed hard against the slightly chilled wall but the thickness of the beams and plaster muffled out anything he might have heard through the hallway’s expanse. Yunho flipped over again, restless with the crawling desires under his skin and in his blood.
Jaejoong’s musky scent still clung to the pillow, a promise of forbidden satiation mingled with the unknown. Yunho never contemplated what it would mean to touch another man, never wondered at the feel of Jaejoong’s mouth on him, a long tongue gliding up his hard flesh. The thought of Jae’s pretty, pouting lips wrapped at the bulb of his sex hardened Yunho quickly, the blood filling him and lengthening against his thigh.
The memory of Jaejoong’s soft hair on his cheek drove any sensible thought from Yunho’s mind, his fingers reaching for the drawstrings of his pajama bottoms. A quick twist of his fingers loosened the knot, trailing along the ridge of his belly until he felt the burr of his pubic bone. Tasting Jae along the ridge of his teeth, Yunho pressed down further, pulling at the slack of his shaft until the skin stretched with a nearly painful tightness. Yunho lost himself in the thrill of Jaejoong finding him in the living room, hand dug down into his pants, only hidden by a thin blanket across his spread thighs.
Brushing his palm under his shirt, Yunho rubbed at the his tightening nipple. His fingernails cut into the tender flesh, imagining the nip of Jaejoong’s teeth along the bud’s ridge. Gasping at the stiffness of his body’s response, his other hand drifted down, playing at the sparse hair along the curve of his belly before stroking along the dip of his groin.
Lifting his hips, Yunho pushed at the cotton waistline, hoping to loosen up enough slack to afford him access to his hard shaft. The brush of his boxers along his cock made me nearly lose control, his scrotum tight up in the pocket between his thighs. Huffing a long, hard breath, Yunho willed himself to calm the emotional torment back down, If the sheer thought of Jaejoong’s mouth on his body did this to his control, then he would be ashamed of what he would do if the singer’s exploring hands would bring him to.
Yunho closed his eyes, wanting to push himself into the depths of his imagination. Jaejoong loomed large in his thoughts, a sensual glide of grace, want parting his full, moist mouth. His hand fondled at the looseness of his sack, running the roundness over his thumb until the seed boiled and throbbed from the touch. His cock wept, a single milky drop of need pearling at the dip of the head. His other hand roamed over his stomach, rubbing at the memory of Jaejoong’s body writhing up around him when they danced.
His mind took him back to the scent of the singer, Jaejoong exhausted and panting with sweat from a long workout on the spit-stained wooden studio floor. Jae had fallen once, hands spread out to catch himself before his head hit the hard wood. Yunho grabbed at the singer, an instinctive motion to stop him from injuring himself. They stood there, not moving with Yunho’s arms wrapped around Jae’s back, hands on the singer’s flat belly. A poke of a belly ring bit into the back of the leader’s hand, a ravenous chew of gold on flesh. He still felt that nibble of gold on his hand, every time he saw Jaejoong’s bare stomach, that single pinprick came back to him.
Stroking at the satin feel of his shaft, Yunho worked the loose skin at the base until he felt a rush of heat fill his face, the poignant throb of his control shaking his nerves. Touching lightly at the glans, Yuhno brushed against the spongy flesh, thumbing back on the head, sensitive to the bundles of shockwaves coursing down his shaft and pulling at the cup of his balls. The spot was hypersensitive, a rumble of nearly painful sensations running down his thighs.
Lifting his hand up to his mouth, Yunho dipped his thumb past his bared teeth, laving at the pad until it dripped with spit. Sucking one last time on the digit, thinking of Jaejoong’s tongue wrapped around his own, Yunho slid his hand back down to touch the moisture to his dripping cock head. A few long strong strokes of his palm and then another touch along the rub of the glans made him gasp, pushing his sack up closer to his guts, a tight rolling mass begging to be released.
His tongue bathed the curve of his lips, running along the pout of his mouth as his breath shortened, each stroke harder against the shaft. His fingers clenched then released, the slick spit from his mouth easing the friction until it burned a supple kiss into his length. His sex ached, wanting more than the harsh skin of his palm over its riding need.
His teeth clenched, neck straining with the pulsating desires shaking his soul apart. The twinge of Jae’s scent hung in the air, Yunho gasping with the effort of holding back for another second…just long enough to remember the kiss he held in his heart. Hugging the pillow scented with Jaejoong’s breath, Yunho worked at his sex, running his hand up and down until he broke free of the chains in his mind. Another long pull and then he exploded, a rush of seed spilling into his open hand.
Nothing prepared him for the rising tide of Jaejoong in his imagination. His mind filled with the images of the singer, a slender body wrapped around his own. Jae’s legs were tangled around his ankles, then rising up to press his hands on Yunho’s chest, straddling his hips and pressing down on Yunho’s softening hardness. The emotional glut of his need rocked at his senses, his semen spilling out of his body. He wanted nothing more than to fill Jae’s mouth, letting the overflow of his seed sparkle on the glut of the young singer’s lips.
Panting, Yunho lay back, feeling the wetness spread over his hand and into the soft cotton of his boxers, a cooling liquid that did nothing to wash free the burgeoning desire in his heart. He debated sliding the underwear free from his body but the languor of depletion worked at his strength, taking the motivation to move out of his bones.
“Joongie…” Yunho’s eyes moistened, a murmur of satisfaction undulating in the cocoon of his blankets. The fear that clouded his mind lifted, the faces of his family and the press of his obligations shaved off in long peals of nothingness under the beauty in Jaejoong’s face, a generous, laughing fey creature that filled the empty spaces in the echoing chambers of his heart.
“I am so sorry I hurt you. I just want to be able to love you.” Yunho cried, a long strand of tears spilling from the clench of his lashes. “Oh Jaejoong, please, let me try. Please…please help me try.”