:::whimpers::: this was supposed to be a short section.
Rating: Overall NC-17. Some naughty words. No naughty bits.
Cheerleaded and Betaed 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 Fourteen; Section Fifteen
“Do it again, please.” The choreographer’s grating voice rankled Jae’s nerves, a rash sickly-sweet voice oozing with a whining demand. “Jaejoong, perhaps you could try to have your feet in the right place this time.”
They’d been at it for three long hours, legs aching with the complex dance steps that seemed just out of reach of their talents...or rather Jae’s ability. Junsu and Yunho easily slid into the routine, marking their steps perfectly. Changmin and Yoochun seemed to have at least the same amount of difficulty, stepping left instead of right, rotating the wrong shoulder or slamming into the singer next to them. Jae’s right arm bore a singularly spectacular bruise, the result of hitting Junsu’s chin when he raised his arm... the wrong arm.
Jaejoong was tired, worn down to the bone from the emotional drama the night before, his body still drawn taut from Yunho’s mouth on his. His stomach rumbled from lack of food, its emptiness poking at his brain to remind him that he’d eaten no dinner the night before, just the shreds of a brownie and a cup of overly sweet coffee. Time was too short when the dawn finally broke, he woke, his eyes swollen and gritty from lack of sleep. The thought of breakfast had been abhorrent, the call of a shower much more alluring than putting any food in his belly. He’d ignored the worried gazes from the others, filling a tall paper cup with Indian spiced chai and heading to the van, barely aware of his surroundings.
The beat set up again, the wired in speaker panels vibrating with a heavy bass. Yunho counted off their starting point from his place behind Jaejoong’s back, moving in symphony with Junsu’s opening glide. Concentrating hard, the lead singer slid forward, dipped then rolled, trying to count off the steps in his head. Another dip brushed the vocalist against Changmin’s shoulders, the youngest member’s lips counting silently in the hopes of keeping his moves in line with the others. Jaejoong’s thigh ached, a muscle memory of the tear along the ridge warning him of overextending. Yunho met Jae’s eyes, a nod of approval when the singer continued with the rolling glide around the leader, a quick intertwining of their legs before breaking apart and spinning off.
A quick dab of a tongue on the back of his neck shocked Jaejoong, his body arched forward. With his head down, his hair had fallen forward, the loose t-shirt he’d thrown on before running out the door scooping forward, exposing the top of his shoulders…too succulent of a target for Yunho to resist. The cat-rough texture jerked Jaejoong back, his hand flying up and slapping at the wet spot, Yunho’s wicked grin and wink a passing ghost of reaction. The group’s leader continued dancing as if nothing happened, Jaejoong falling out of rhythm and tumbling from the formation in a windmill of limbs.
Jae’s sneakers caught on the floor, a high pitched squeal as the rubber sucked onto the wood, sending him sprawling forward. The momentum carried him into Yoochun’s back, toppling Micky over, providing a soft landing spot for the lanky lead singer, his mouth agape at the Yunho’s boldness. His elbow struck the side of Yoochun’s temple, a clunk of bone hitting the nerve ends, making his arm spasm and jerk. Yoochun twisted, catching Jaejoong’s waist as they landed in a tangled heap.
“Jaejoong!” The choreographer shrilled, the cane she affected as a walking aid stamping hard on the ground, rattling Jae’s teeth. “Why must you be so graceless?”
“I am sorry, Auntie.” Yunho bowed with a curt nod of his head, walking towards the sprawled singers. “It was my fault. I think I tripped Joongie-ah when he passed me.”
Jaejoong muttered darkly at Yunho, the leader’s hands sliding under his arms and lifting him easily from the floor. The lead singer’s knees ached, the hard floor marking bruises along the cup of his bones, reverberations running down into his shins. Teeth bared, he growled under his breath, making it quite clear to Yunho exactly what he thought of the interlude, already worried about whether or not he could get the complicated routine down, much less perform it on stage.
“I am going to kill you, Yunho. I thought your feet weren’t the ones we had to worry about.” Micky pushed himself up from the floor, his body aching from the tumble. The spot on his temple where Jaejoong’s sharp elbow struck him throbbed, a sore tenderness spreading under his sweat-dampened hair. “We almost made it through the whole routine…”
“Almost.” Junsu agreed, crouching next to Yoochun’s kneeling form. “Are you going to live? Or do we need to borrow one of Super Junior to work with us?”
“No, they just want to take Jaejoong from us.” Changmin interjected, working the last final steps of his piece out. “They’d want him in exchange for giving us someone and having to take Yoochun…then who’ll cook for us?”
“I cook.” Junsu protested, wincing as he remembered the pan of eggs he had to throw out that morning, a blackened mass of scorched whites. For good measure, he tossed the frying skillet as well, hoping he could stop at a store to get a new one before Jaejoong noticed its absence in the kitchen. “I don’t cook well but I try.”
“Enough!” The hated choreographer clapped her hands, rumpling the soft flesh hanging under her stout arms. Her chins rippled when she spoke, a single black hair bobbing in concert with her fleshy lips. “You may continue this squabbling elsewhere. The studio has to be turned over to other students…ones that are probably more dedicated to learning what their instructor teaches them.”
“I need a shower. Maybe a soak. My bones are complaining that I abused them.” Yoochun groaned, standing slowly and rubbing at his forehead. The short walk to the locker rooms stretched into an eternity, their abused bodies moving gradually down the hall. “Joongie-ah, did you sharpen your elbows this morning or are they always that bony?”
“I’m sorry. Blame Yunho. He bumped me.” Jaejoong slanted an ominous look towards their leader. Walking off, he hurried away from the others, hoping to put some distance between himself and Yunho. It was bad enough that his neck ached in the spot Yunho’s tongue laved, he also had his body refusing to move any quicker, soreness seeping into every tendon he had wrapped around a joint.
“Yunho licked him.” Junsu whispered into Micky’s ear. Nodding at Yoochun’s surprise-widened mouth, the singer continued, tapping at the ridge sloping on his skull. “I saw him. Right on the neck.”
“I didn’t think…” Yunho jogged to catch up with the long-legged lead singer, Jaejoong rubbing at the back of his neck, one hand buried beneath his thick black hair. He didn’t believe he’d taken a taste of Jaejoong during the routine, the boldness of it still stunned him. “I couldn’t help it.”
“She already hates me.” Jae hissed in irritation, stepping into the locker room, pulling his shirt off in one tug. “You know she thinks I should be replaced… I can’t dance as well as all of you and getting hurt just made things worse. I have to try twice as hard. When you’re done playing with how I feel, remember that you were the one that made me trip this time. No yelling at me then.”
The shivering memory of Yunho’s mouth shuddered a wrenching reaction through Jae’s body and he stopped, holding the shirt in his hand, bared to Yunho’s eyes. The other raked his gaze over the lean expanse of pale skin, a sparkle of metal in one nipple and below in the hollow of his navel. The jet of fringe around Jae’s face brushed a silken hematite over the ivory of his skin, dark rainbows caught in the strands as the light reflected through it. Yunho stepped forward, drawn by the image of his temptation then stopped when the others joined them, a loud boisterous trio bursting through the hazy affection clouding the air between the two singers.
“I’m sorry.” Yunho apologized, contrite for forgetting Jaejoong’s need to work hard on what seemed to come so naturally to him. “This is work. I know that. I’m always the one riding you to get better at our routines and then I… do that. It was unfair.”
Jaejoong stopped, realizing that the leader had held open a small bit of his heart for him to see, lost in the shock of his tongue on him and the irate words of their choreographer. Turning, he cocked his head, staring at the other’s dark eyes, wishing he were brazen enough to stand into Yunho’s arms and kiss him, not caring if the teacher’s other students saw them, their clustered bodies working to get their work out clothes on before their class began.
“I’m too tired for all of this, Yunho.” Jaejoong grabbed at his towel, stalking into the shower stalls, his pants riding low on his hips. “I just want to shower and go home to sleep.”
The trip back to the apartment was subdued. Junsu mocking Yoochun for having a soft head, Changmin grinning widely as they poked one another in the back of the van. A quiet Jaejoong rested his forehead against the glass, watching the piles of snow as the van drove by, cluttering the street gutters with a choppy grey slush. Yunho peeked around the singer’s hoodie, the cap drawn down over Jae’s forehead, his mind wandering with stray thoughts. Sliding over, Yunho pressed up against Jae’s shoulder, relaxing back when the singer sighed in resignation, giving up his sulk.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know it seems like I’m always saying this but… it’s true. I didn’t even think about what I was doing.” Yunho whispered. “It just seemed… like something I could get away with. Right then, no one would have noticed. I didn’t expect you to fall.”
“It shocked me.” Jaejoong looked back, seeing the other three laughing amongst themselves, Changmin getting the worst of the other two’s jokes. “I didn’t expect…”
“I didn’t either.” The leader admitted, reluctant to show his emotions now. Impetuous, the action cost him more than he realized, the horror of his attraction sinking in. Jaejoong was… another man…a male that he worked with and needed to get along with. If they weren’t careful, their entire lives could be ruined because of his actions. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“I need some sleep first, Yunho…before I can talk to you…before I can even begin to listen to you.” Jae sounded worn, his voice crackling around the edges. “It’s been too much and if you are going to tell me that you’ve decided that we’re not to be, can it at least wait until I have enough energy to cry? I don’t think I have any more tears to give you right now.”
“Joongie…” The ache in Jae’s words touched Yunho’s heart. “No, that’s not what I wanted to say.”
“Later, Yunho. Please.” Jaejoong looked up from his contemplation of the landscape, bruised moons beneath his eyes. He’d lain awake nearly all night, listening for any footsteps in the hallway outside, hoping one moment that Yunho would crawl under the covers with him and disparaging his weakness for needing the leader as desperately as he did. Jae knew he needed to gain some balance, thrown off by Yunho’s whispered confessions on the couch. “I need to have some time. My heart’s too tender right now.”
The group’s leader laid his head back, resting against the high backed seat. The road bumped along underneath them, more laughter filling the van’s interior from the three behind them. Sitting there, in the quiet of Jaejoong’s presence, Yunho began to plot on how he could win the singer’s trust.
A familiar perfume tickled Jaejoong’s nose, something aromatic and pungent. Opening his eyes, he blinked at the stark darkness, a film of white from the lights outside milking the ice of the glass window. The perfume grew stronger, a wispy tab of pink scented noise on his tongue. A gluttony of scents assaulted him, drawing him into wakefulness. Each layer crested over his skin, a rush on his senses. Sitting up, Jaejoong reached over to turn on the end table lamp, its thin white shade draped with a luxurious purple silk.
The white light shimmied into an evening glow of violet, kissing his pale skin with a splash of lavender smolder. His bed linens rustled, moist petals crushed under his body, the creased folds releasing the delicate scent of carnation and rose into the air. Sitting up fully, Jaejoong stared down at his body, his bared chest mottled with petals, a crimson and butterscotch sunset over the icy landscape of his torso and shoulders. Hundreds of soft cupped drops spread over his worn covers, catching in the folds of the blankets at his feet. White candles flickered at the edges of the low table against the far wall, its surface normally littered with magazines, swept clean and covered with columns of pure beeswax, a calliope of golden light captured on wicks at differing heights.
“It’s late.” The door creaked open, Yunho pushing past the frame, holding a tray of covered food. “I brought you some dinner.”
“Did you…do all of this? Jaejoong picked at the rose petals on his stomach, lifting one up to his nose and inhaling its scent. The red of the rose blushed a kiss across his cheeks, a sweep of dark lashes flicking butterfly shadows on Jae’s high cheekbones. Yunho’s breath caught in his throat, the sight of the young man sprawled over a bed of flowers erotic in its sensual innocence. “Just to put me in a good mood to talk?”
“Partly.” Yunho admitted, sitting down on the edge of the bed, Jaejoong shifting his legs to make room. The petals scented another release, a spill of oils into the air. “I also thought it would be… romantic. I wasn’t sure if you would… like romance. It’s not something… I don’t know what another man would want.”
“This is nice.” Jaejoong felt the burn of embarrassment in his cheeks, trying hard not to press his hands to his face to cover his blush. The scent of the roses gave him a funny feeling in his heart, a flipping over twitch he couldn’t control. “I’ve… I don’t know what I would want. The roses…the carnations are nice. Unexpected. I think that’s good.”
“So we’re the same in this, then? Neither one of us knowing what to do? We’ll have to forge ahead by ourselves.” Yunho lifted the covers of the bowls, a purple blend of rice mixed in with vegetables under the lid. “Ah, I like this kind of rice. You too, yes?”
Jae nodded, mute in his shock. Unsure of where to put his hands and feet, he lay against the mound of pillows behind him, crossing his legs as Yunho dished out portions of food into smaller dishes. “Did you cook?”
“Hah, how long did you think you’ve been asleep?” Yunho teased, trying to keep his eyes from straying up Jae’s body. The young man’s face enraptured him, dips and rises of bone beneath translucent skin. A divot of a small scar curved near Jae’s nose, leaving Yunho to wonder if the tip of his tongue would fit in the scallop. “I would have to be reborn into my next life to be able to cook this well. I ordered this in from Pishon. I paid the driver extra to deliver it hot. Then you slept so long I had to keep it warm in the oven…so if it’s dry, I get to blame you.”
“I’m sure it’s good.” Jaejoong bowed his head slightly, biting at his lower lip. “Excuse me, I need to… bathroom first.”
A hasty retreat to the cooled tile confines of the bathroom he shared with Changmin and Yunho gave Jaejoong a chance to catch the running chaos in his mind. Large swaths of his body were covered in luminescent rose and gold, a floral tattoo caught in the heat of his skin. Turning on the faucet, he used the water to drown out his movements, wondering if he could bring himself to release in a short enough time that Yunho wouldn’t know anything was amiss.
Cold water poured into the sink, running up its side with a gleeful enthusiasm. Jae stuck his cupped hands into the chill, splashing his face and shaking the sleep from his face. Gulping down a mouthful, he swallowed before taking another handful, forcing the cold to work through his body. Jaejoong hoped that his sprint to the bathroom hid the erection clearly visible through his thin cotton scrubs. Peeing proved to be painful, having to force down the hardness long enough to release the press of his bladder and the brush of his hand, coupled with the echo of Yunho’s smile in his mind complicated matters to the point of tears, Jaejoong nearly giving up and heading back into the bedroom. A sigh of relief escaped between his pressed lips as he finally convinced his bladder to release its waters, washing his hands quickly and looking at himself in the mirror.
The wan face and dark hair still remained the same, a cobbled together mash of uneven features and too full mouth. Running his fingers over his cheeks, Jae wished for a hint of the manliness Yunho possessed, wondering if the other would find him too effeminate or perhaps even rejecting him because of it. Worrying at his lower lip, Jae shut his eyes tight, willing himself to walk back out and face the young man sitting on his bed preparing something for them to eat.
“You’ll be fine, Jaejoong.” The singer mumbled to himself, working at the strands of his hair around his neck with nervous fingers. “It’s not like it’s a date. It’s eating. You’ve eaten with him before.”
He slunk back into the bedroom, poking his head around the door to see if Yunho was still sitting on the bed. The leader had placed the tray on his own mattress, keeping their food covered until Jae came back. Sliding past Yunho’s legs, Jaejoong worked himself back into the corner, staring at the other man’s handsome face.
“Do you want to eat? Or talk?” Yunho asked, watching Jae’s chest move with hitched breaths. “Maybe both. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
Jaejoong took the offered food, setting the rice dish down to dig at it with a spoon. Large shrimp boiled in red hot peppers poked out from the purple sticky grains, shreds of thin white mushrooms laying against the side of the bowl. He used a pair of chopsticks to maneuver the enoki free from the rice, crunching down on the white crisp stalk. It was a simple feast, food that he found comforting. He quirked his mouth as Yunho picked out the mushrooms, deftly placing them on Jaejoong’s rice.
“Talk to me, Jaejoong.” Yunho found a wide sliver of shitake, holding it up for Jae to take. Leaning forward, the young singer’s mouth parted, sliding the long brown meat over his tongue, a bite of his teeth taking it from Yunho’s chopsticks.
“About what?” Yes, his attraction was still there but Jae’s stomach complained of its emptiness and his mouth seemed intent on shoveling as much food in as possible. Slowing down, Jaejoong looked up from his eating, swallowing what was in his mouth.
“Anything.” Yunho grinned, chewing on a piece of shrimp. “Yoochun says I don’t know you very well. Or at least maybe the Jaejoong that’s inside of you. I thought I would get to know you. Find out the things that make you… smile.”
“Food.” Jae lifted the bowl he held, bowing in appreciation to the young man who brought him dinner. Placing the ceramic dish by his bare foot, he fingered a rose petal, rubbing the red fragrance between his fingers. “And I think I like roses now.”
“I’m glad.” Yunho brushed at the petal with his fingers, running the tip of his index along the half-moons of Jae’s nails. “I really wasn’t certain if it was the right thing to do. I’ve never… not even for a woman… I’ve never done anything like this for someone.”
“Me neither.” Jae put his dish aside, pulling his knees up to his chest. Resting his chin against his thighs, he felt a safe comfortable distance from the other young man, a fake barrier to keep his heart from leaping from under his breast bone.
“Have you…loved other men before?” Yunho’s dish joined Jaejoong’s, a forgotten feast cast off as the young men moved to other fares. “You mentioned…your father. How did he…know?”
“The neighbour… a young man that lived with his mother… came over to borrow my father’s tree saw.” Jaejoong’s eyes clouded at the memory. He remembered feeling the first tinge of desire, held in the broad body and wide face of a college student sounding worldly to his innocent ears. “I think I was…thirteen. He was… good looking. Older. He had a job and a car…he seemed so adult. And he spent time talking to me. Asking me how I felt about music or some piece of clothing he wore.”
“He got me drunk for the first time. A few mouthfuls of whiskey from a bottle he’d bought off an American…or so he told me.” Yunho edged closer, seeing the discomfort in Jaejoong’s face. The leader’s arms itched to cradle the singer against him, taking away the flux of emotions paining Jae’s soul. “I thought he wanted to just be friends and then the first time he touched me… touched my face, I thought I would be sick from delirium. It was just his hand and fingers on my cheek.”
“He came over a lot, sometimes talking to my father but always looking at me, in my direction….always with a smile and sometimes winking when no one else could see. Then one day, when I was in the garage, he came up behind me and kissed me, turning me around and sliding his tongue into my mouth.” Jae’s voice got quiet, barely a whisper of sound broken against the shards of his innocence. “I couldn’t get his hands to stop moving over me and then… in some sick way, I wanted that feeling he’d given me before…but not this.”
“Then my father came through the open door. He’d seen the young man come over and wondered what he wanted.” Jaejoong’s snort of derision echoed, a sour note curdling the sweet scent of the flowers. “My father beat me. So hard I thought my bones would turn to liquid. Father screamed that it was my fault…I lured a good man into my sickness and that I was something to be ashamed of. My mother begged him to stop, not because it was hurting me… I think she thought he could beat it out of me…but because she was afraid the neighbours would hear.”
“I left home when I couldn’t stand the tension any more. Nothing I did made them happy. Not any more. I tried telling them that… I didn’t do anything but my father wouldn’t listen. I was dead to him.” Jaejoong played at the shadows of Yunho’s hands, lightly touching at his palms. Having the young man at his fingertips thrilled the insecure fractures working through his soul, a spackle of joy filling in the cracks. “I thought I would try to be someone they could be proud of. I would sing and be famous, looking for some sort of… acknowledgement that I did well by them but … you’ve seen them here.”
“They are proud of you.” Yunho insisted. “I’ve seen your mother’s face when she comes through the door. She’s very proud of who you are. And your sisters…”
“I think they’re more happy to see the handsome men I live with than me.” Jaejoong’s eyes lifted with a smile to his lips. “But yes, without them, I wouldn’t have made it through those times. They were always there for me, holding me up and telling me that I didn’t do anything wrong. My eldest sister told me that one day, I would find someone to love me and that it didn’t make a difference if that person was a man, so long as he made me happy.”
“I want to be that person…I want to try to be that person. It scares me but I want it.” Yunho slid his hand under Jaejoong’s hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling the lead singer towards him. “Boojae, I am sorry that… I’m sorry for everything. You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who loves you with everything they have.”
Touching noses, they stared into one another’s eyes, seeing the depths of their uncertainty between them. Yunho’s lips found a nibble of a spot he wanted to taste, unsure if he should delve into the singer’s sensuality. “I want to kiss you…so badly. So very badly but I don’t know what I’m doing here. Understand that. I also don’t know how to be between us. I know what… I think I know what I want to do with you but…”
“You talk a lot. You never used to talk this much. Or maybe I didn’t listen enough. I’m sorry if I didn’t listen enough.” Jaejoong’s tongue darted out, licking at Yunho’s mouth with a questing dab. “I don’t know either. I never… I’ve kissed before… but I’ve not… done more. Not with a man.”
“Me too.” Yunho stammered, his mouth a mere skimming breadth away from Jaejoong’s. “I mean, women… two women…but never another man. Not until you. I’ve never even imagined being with another man until you. And I don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe there’s a book?” Jaejoong asked as he rubbed his chin along Yunho’s mouth, parting the flesh beneath the dip on the young man’s nose. The feel of the leader on him thrilled Jae’s heart, its erratic beating skipping with each brushing pass he made. Jae no longer could taste any of the rice he’d swallowed, lost in the space between them, finding a galaxy of stars in his soul.
“A book sounds like a good idea.” Yunho agreed, his fingers moving down from Jae’s hairs to the soft skin on his throat. “Have you forgiven me, then? Fully?”
“No, not quite.” Jae considered his feelings, still feeling the raw rub of his tender heart. He pulled back, hesitant to go any further forward. The ache in him throbbed, knocking his breath into soft pants. “I need to… I need to be able to trust you. Not to hurt me.”
“I’ll hurt you sometimes, I think.” Yunho admitted slowly. “I think you’ll hurt me too. We can’t be perfect, Jaejoong. I don’t think that’s possible. But let me…try to learn to love you. Let me love you.”
“At least let me kiss you.” The leader whispered against Jaejoong’s parted mouth, breathing through the young man’s lips, heating the sigh Jae held in the back of his throat.
Jaejoong sat still, unmoving as Yunho explored his face with a light suckle of his mouth. The minute scar that tantalized him earlier fit perfectly against his tongue, the tip catching the small dimple, filling with a drop from Yunho’s mouth before he sucked it clean from Jae’s face. Yunho pressed on, pushing in with a flick of his tongue.
Yunho found the warmth of the other’s mouth, Jae’s chin slackening as Yunho pressed on the softness of his jaw, coaxing the singer to open himself fully to his advances. Moist, he pulled Jae’s kiss from him, easing the young man into his arms, slanting him down and covering Jaejoong with his heavier body. Jae’s hands found an unsteady grip on Yunho’s shoulders, pressed in by the young man’s muscular arms. Blood roaring in his ears, Jaejoong drew in his breath, savouring the taste of Yunho in his throat.
He wanted this, too much…Jae thought to himself…but there wasn’t any stopping the insistent probing of his mouth, or the hands working up to play with the softness of his nape. Yunho gasped, working his mouth down over Jae’s jaw, leaving red welts along the bone, nipping harder with each moaning please Jaejoong whispered into Yunho’s shoulder, his own lips finding the other’s curves, exploring through the thin cotton of Yunho’s shirt.
Shuddering, Yunho pressed his hands on Jaejoong’s shoulders, reluctantly pulling the young man away from him. His chest heaved with the effort to control his breathing, every bit of his air swimming with the feral beauty of the man he just held in his arms…and savoured just the tip of the pleasures Jae had to offer.
“We need to… slow.” Yunho gulped, relieved at Jae’s slow nod of agreement. “You… you’re setting my blood on fire. I don’t think I could stand just kissing you tonight if I stay here much longer. And I don’t think either one of us is ready for that. Not yet.”
“Slow…” Jaejoong repeated, touching at the raised marks on his jaw and throat. They hurt, a sting so pleasantly erotic he knew he wouldn’t be able to find the strength to stand if he wanted to.
“I’m going to go sleep on the couch again.” Yunho stood, his hands shaking and rubbing at his thighs. “Changmin is staying with his mother still. I don’t know where Yoochun and Junsu are… I think they might have gone to get something to eat. They’ll be home in a bit. I’ll come back for the dishes then. It’ll be safe. Safer.”
“Tomorrow, let’s go on… a date.” Yunho asked, stopping in the doorway, looking back at the disheveled sexy young man he was walking away from. “I owe you some romance…I think. Or maybe a movie?”
“A movie would be nice. Romance, I don’t know if either one of us knows what to do with romance.” Jae wondered at the inanity of their conversation, the casualness of their words as their hearts bled with want. Missing the heat of Yunho’s body on his, Jaejoong leaned back, wrapping his arms around his chest. “You better go.”
“Yeah, I might not be able to stand here much longer.” Yunho agreed, not wanting to leave the room. Jaejoong did draw at him, a fierce urge to protect the rough, brittle beauty from the world’s cruelty.
“It’s not just that.” Jaejoong bit back on his lip, already swollen from Yunho’s teeth. “If you stay there much longer, I might not want to let you go.”