Title: On The Red Couch
Pairing: YunJae (with some YooSu and Min7en)
Chapter Rating: R
Part One: 1, 2, 3, 4, Fiv5e, 6, Se7en, 8, 9, 10, 11
Part Two: 12, 13 (Extremely Mature Content), 14, 15, 16, Comments Regarding Storyline , Se7enteen, 18, 19, 20, 21 (Lemon)
Part Three: 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, Twenty-Se7en (LEMON), 28, 29, 30, 31, 32 (LEMON), 33, 34, 35, 36, Thirty-Se7en, 38, 39, 40 (Final)
Summary: Hot Korean boys. Sex. Dancing and some angry words. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily in each section. Final Book in SMM series.
Important Notes: This starts a few months before Chapter One of Tarnished Angels.
Yunho’s broad frame filled the doorway to Yoochun’s room. He stood, face set into a dark glower as Junsu untangled himself from the baritone’s legs. Sprawled on the bed, it took mere seconds for the couple to separate, much longer than Yunho wanted to wait. Crossing the room in a few long strides, the leader grabbed Junsu’s arm and lifted him off of the mattress, pulling Yoochun’s comforter with him.
He was fierce, a commanding presence in their lives but Yoochun didn’t seem to pay the older man any mind. If anything, he returned Yunho’s glare with one of his own, steadfastly refusing to dip his head down in humility. In the dimly lit room he shared with Jaejoong, Yoochun found comfort in making Yunho uneasy, pushing back at the stubborn man’s imperious directives.
“I said, get out,” Yunho growled, yanking Junsu up further. The younger man yelped and jerked to a stop, his other arm held captive by his lover’s hand.
“You don’t need to go anywhere, Susu-ah,” Yoochun tilted his chin up, staring defiantly back at his leader. “Hyung doesn’t tell you where you can go or stay. And this isn’t his room.”
“One of you needs to let me go,” Junsu gasped, being dragged forward then jerked back when Yoochun refused to give way to Yunho’s growling. “I’m not a pair of take-out chopsticks…”
“I want to talk to dongsaeng alone.” He let go of Junsu, hard and unmoving when the younger man tumbled back onto Yoochun’s legs.
“Funny how I’m Yoochun when things are going well for you and Jae but when you’re angry at him, I’m dongsaeng again,” The baritone said with a cocky smirk, wrapping his arms around his lover’s belly. The loose hug tugged Junsu’s shirt up, a slender line of tanned stomach a golden slash under Yoochun’s paler skin. “Is that what you try to do to Jaejoong when he doesn’t think what you want him to think? Try to make him smaller?”
“I think I hear Changmin calling me.” Junsu extracted himself from Yoochun’s embrace, uncomfortable at the brewing tempest. No amount of peace-making or teasing would take away the thunderous tones rumbling between the two men and he’d rather not be a victim of any battle the two had over Jaejoong. “Chunnie-ah, come find me when you’re done. We can go to the ramen shop and get something warm to eat. The rain and your open window are making me cold.”
“I told you I’d warm you up, baby.” Chun grinned, unable to stop himself from leering at Junsu’s round ass as the other stood up. Slapping his lover’s rump, he dodged a quick slash of Junsu’s hand at his head, falling back into the pillows.
“Baby,” Junsu repeated the English word back. “Try not to get your teeth punched in. Hard to eat tempura ramen if you can’t chew.”
“I’m not going to be the one having to chew around my swollen tongue,” Yoochun muttered but he kept a wary eye on the simmering leader. Yunho’s eyes were narrow slits, hard glittering agate in a cold stony face. Chun waited to speak until Junsu closed the door behind him, leaving them alone with their anger. “What do you want to talk about, eh? Maybe that bruise on Jae’s shoulder? Or the limp he’s been trying to hide?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t know he was there when I turned around too fast,” Yunho took a deep breath, trying to steady the rise in his blood. Casting his head back, he stared at the ceiling until the cold air from the open window froze his lungs. Dropping his gaze down, he asked, “Did he tell you I hit him?”
“No, he said he got in your way on the staircase but I figured you were probably yelling at him and turned around to yell some more, hitting him,” Yoochun admitted flatly. Sitting up, he folded his legs under him, leaning back on his hands. His own anger tightened his long fingers into the bed’s rumpled sheets, fisting the cotton in his curved palms. “But then maybe that’s Joongie’s way of saying he forgives you anything…even for beating him when he tells you you’ve hurt his feelings.”
“I. Do. Not. Beat. Jaejoong.” Grabbing Yoochun’s shoulders, Yunho slammed the smaller man back into the wall, puffing the curtains out with the force of the shove. “He fell. I tried to catch him…”
“Hurting me while saying something like that isn’t helping you, hyung,” Chunnie spat out the honorific, smearing away any respect the word might have held. “How many times have you pushed and shouted at him? Before you slept with him, it was worse but now, it’s almost the same. Let go of me, hyung. I’m not Jaejoong.”
“He’s angry at me because we can’t be…like we are at home,” Yunho released the younger man, working the tension from his grip. “Joongie-ah was the one who insisted we stay behind doors before and now he chafes at being told we can’t hold hands or touch. It’s not my fault that the company is stricter here but we all agreed that we would do our best. I am doing what I can.”
“And it’s not his fault you cannot touch him here. Japan loves to see men doing fan service but no, Kimura-san thinks that we cannot be as open with ourselves as we are at home but you still take it out on him instead of trying to push back at the people who tell us to stay hidden. Whose fault is that, Yunho?” Yoochun flung his acidic thoughts at Yunho with a splash of heat. “Why do you take out your anger on him? Because you’re not man enough to speak up for him? You don’t love him enough to say no when someone tries to shove him aside? He said no for you…looked to you to support him in this and what do you do? You agree with Kimura-san without even a fight. If that’s how you love someone, Yunho, then don’t start crying when you find yourself alone.”
“Like how you spoke up for Junsu?” Yunho tossed back, cocking his head when Yoochun rose up off the bed. “I noticed you didn’t say anything to Kimura-manager. Is Junsu okay with you sleeping with Jaejoong?”
“How could I say something when our leader folds over like a piece of origami paper?” He asked. “Junsu understood how you feel. Susu-ah always understands because he worships you. You are his surrogate Junho, the older brother who is more like a lover than I am sometimes and unlike you, I am not jealous about my lover’s brother.”
“You say I’m jealous of you?” Yunho spat. “Jealous of what? That he speaks to you when he slides past me? That I come home after getting food to find the two of you on the couch like lovers hidden from the moon? Is that what this is about, Yoochun? Maybe you’re tired of Junsu and decided that your soulmate brother is the one you want instead?”
Fighting was not something Yoochun had much experience with. Of the five members, only Jaejoong and Yunho possessed any skill with their hands, the leader’s honed skill from years of martial arts while Jae’s quick and dirty jabs were born of the gutter he’s scrambled from but Yoochun gave it his best. The hit was hard, and he’d forgotten the basics of how to hold his fist yet the crunch of Yunho’s lip shoved up against his front teeth was more than satisfying, even with the sting across Chun’s knuckles.
Yoochun tasted blood before he could finish his smile. Yunho’s clenched hand connected solidly with his jaw, his molars biting into the meat of his cheek. Ducking his head down, Yoochun launched himself at the older man, sending them into Jaejoong’s bed. Flailing, Yoochun tried to get another strike at the leader but Yunho’s limber body and elastic grace made hitting him too difficult.
“Shit!” Yunho swore, hissing and yelping loudly. “Did you just… bite me?”
“Fucker,” Yoochun growled, rolling off of the bed to get away from Yunho’s long reach. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he held his fists up, preparing for Yunho to hit him. “Come on then.”
“You bit me!” Yunho lifted his shirt, staring at the half moon indents on his side. “What are you? A girl? My sisters bite!”
“Why are you fighting?” Changmin interrupted from the open door. “And what are you doing on hyung’s bed?”
“Go away, monkey.” Yoochun said in English as he curled his lip at Yunho. “Precious Leader and I are talking.”
“Maknae,” Min corrected Yoochun absently. “Your Korean is getting worse the more Japanese you learn and your English is horrible.”
“He’s right, Min. You shouldn’t be here,” Yunho said, sitting up. Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he winced at the smear of blood on his skin.
“I thought the days of fighting over Jaejoong were over,” The youngest of their group asked as he turned on the overhead lights. “Ah, look, your mouths are red like the old-style geisha. Wait, that was black, yes? So much to remember.”
“Yunho is having problems being a man.” Yoochun snagged a towel from a hook on the wall. Dabbing at his mouth, he cleared his tongue of blood, spitting a splatter of red into the fabric.
“Me?” Yunho asked incredulously. “Who bit?”
“Who can’t stick up for the person he’s supposed to love?”
“At least my lover isn’t looking for someone to be his brother.” Yunho shot back.
“Better than my lover looking for someone to be his sister,” Yoochun replied. “Maybe that’s where Joongie-ah is. Looking for a real girl instead of the misshapen one he got instead. Tired of being on top but too scared to let Joongie put it into you?”
Min debated separating the older members as they tussled again but as he contemplated how to pull apart the two stronger men, Yoochun hit his head on the end table and let loose a howl that brought Junsu to the door.
“Aish, they’re still fighting.” Junsu grimaced, stopped from entering the room by Min’s hand on his stomach. “Minnie-ah, I have to stop them.”
“No, they’ll either stop themselves or have to explain to the stylist about the bruises on their face for Monday’s photoshoot.” Min grinned when Yunho stopped short, one fist clenched into Yoochun’s shirt as he held the other up to get in a good punch. “Better, ne?”
“Ah, Chunnie.” Junsu winced at the dribble of blood on his lover’s face. “Why do you fight?”
“Because he’s an ass,” Yoochun answered. “What’s that word in Japanese? Min! What’s that word?”
“Roba. But that’s probably not the one you want,” Min sighed. “It means donkey. Maybe dokyun? Dumbass?”
“That works. Dokyun.” The baritone extracted his shirt from Yunho’s grip, pushing the older man away. Standing up, he hissed when Junsu grabbed him by the chin to inspect his face. “Susu-ah, don’t. It hurts. His fists are harder than his head. I think I swallowed a tooth.”
“What are you fighting about?” Min asked again, putting himself between the older men.
“You were right. They’re fighting over Jaejoong,” Junsu said quickly, too busy inspecting the damage to Yoochun’s mouth to see the poisonous looks he got from the brawling members. Yoochun jabbed a stiff finger into his boyfriend’s ribs. “What? It’s true. You’re mad at him because he wouldn’t tell Kimura-manager that he and Jaejoong belong in together in one room and he’s mad at you because Jaejoong cuddles with you when he’s upset. Hyung gets jealous and you get… defensive.”
“It’s true,” Min agreed when Yunho opened his mouth to protest. “You do get jealous.”
“It would be easier if you didn’t.” Junsu shrugged. “I’m not jealous of Chunnie and hyung.”
“That’s because you’re not insecure,” Yoochun said. “The only one more insecure than Jaejoong is Yunho.”
“Get out before he starts hitting you again,” Changmin said, shoving at Yoochun’s shoulder. “Let me talk to hyung.”
“Wait, this is my room!” He protested as Junsu led him out. “Why am I getting kicked out of my own room?”
“Because I am hungry and you need to wash the blood out of your mouth,” Junsu complained. “The clubs get out soon and if we don’t go now, the ramen shop will be busy. I want to eat now.”
“You’d think Junsu and I were brothers,” Min laughed as he closed the door. “These days, he’s hungrier than me.”
Yunho flopped down onto Jaejoong’s bed, smiling despite himself. The singer couldn’t resist surrounding himself with soft pillows, a star field of bright colours against black sheets. Pulling a deep crimson cushion from the pile, Yunho held it up to his face, inhaling his lover’s green tea scent. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up with the smell of Jaejoong on his body or the feel of the bright-eyed singer’s mouth on his sex, his skilled tongue circling under his shaft and playing with the sensitive spot at the tip. He closed his eyes against the wet forming on his lashes, refusing to let Min see him shed any tears.
The room was filled with items that should be near his own things. Stacks of CDs piled up on a table, Jae’s itchy fingers liberating them from the others’ areas. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was his shirt draped over the back of a chair but Yunho didn’t mind, not if it meant something he owned was wrapped around his lover’s body.
“It’s okay to cry, hyung,” Min sat down next to the other man, tucking his legs up. “Even in front of me.”
“No, it’s not.” Yunho shook his head.
“You’ll cry in front of Jaejoong but not me?” Changmin sighed. “It’s not fair that you treat me like I’m as bubble headed as Junsu. I might be the youngest in body but I’m not the baby. We know you and Jaejoong are fighting. It’s hard not to notice the cold when you fight. It’s like we all become penguins and we have to watch where we step or we’ll slip into the freezing waters.”
“I’m sorry for that, Min,” Yunho apologized, rubbing his face with Jaejoong’s pillow. “I am.”
“At least this time, you’ve not stolen Jaejoong’s mattress,” Min said, glancing over at his leader with a sly look. “Although I think you’re going to take that pillow with you and hide it under your sheets, no?”
“Probably,” Yunho laughed despite himself. “I came in here to ask Yoochun if he knew where Jaejoong went but… things become complicated. I get angry without even knowing why. I feel my stomach give up its juices and I taste the sour in my throat when I think of Jae’s bed without me in it. It wasn’t that long ago, you know, that I couldn’t imagine being with a man and now, I can’t imagine my life without him. It hurts, Changmin, to be without him.”
“It’s like trying to breathe the ocean,” Min agreed. “Air and water both have oxygen them but we can’t pull anything into use but the taste of our own tears.”
“Only you could make love science, mankae,” Yunho laughed. “I pity the woman who falls in love with you. She’ll spent half her time trying to make sense out of your thoughts.”
“Some people stay up late just to hear my thoughts, hyung,” Min smirked, ducking his head before Yunho could see the slow, wicked smile on his face. “But this isn’t about me. It is for you and Jaejoong to straighten out. Why didn’t you say something to Kimura-san when he told us where we were sleeping? We worked so hard to gain some freedom and now we are back to being trainees again. Sharing a room with you and Junsu isn’t bad but I’d rather be on my own. You mumble in your sleep about being alone and Junsu sings in his. I might as well sleep in the living room for all the rest I’m getting.”
“If we fail here, in Japan, then the company has reason to split us apart,” Yunho said softly. His stomach twisted as he heard himself speak his fears. “What will become of us then? We’re bound to the company so they can use us in whatever way they want. The three of them… Jaejoong, Yoochun and Junsu… they are singers and musicians that are strong enough to do solo work but you and I, what of us? What would become of us? And how would Jaejoong and I survive working apart when we can’t even survive sleeping a few doors away?”
“I think that we will always be strong enough to be family,” Min nodded assuredly. “No matter what happens, have we not always said that five minus one equals nothing? Don’t you feel that in your soul?”
“I do. I wonder sometimes if Jaejoong does.”
“Jaejoong would die for you. He’s already proven that he would live for you.” At Yunho’s silent nod, Min continued. “If you can’t trust him to love you if the company splits us apart, how can you trust that he loves you at all? And if you fear that we’re going to be apart, shouldn’t you fight for whatever second you have with him now?”
Yunho’s fingers touched something oddly textured under the pile of cushions. Curious, he dug around a bit and swallowed his words before he could reply to Min’s question, pulling out an old worn hoodie Jae hid under the mound. Although too battered to be worn and thin in places, the garment had been folded carefully, tucked beneath the pillow Jae slept on. Patched over in places with embroidery thread and stained, Yunho’s name was still visible on the inside collar, the strong black letters stitched in by Mrs. Jung when Yunho and Jaejoong were merely trainees. He’d almost forgotten about the hoodie, its elbow marred with a red splotch from Seoul’s rich clay mud but he’d known Jaejoong once held it in high regard, solely because it was once Yunho’s.
“Ah, he still has that,” Min sighed, wrinkling his nose. “At least he doesn’t wear it anymore. But maybe then, he sleeps with it because he cannot sleep with you?”
“What happened to the baby that was too shy to say anything?” Yunho teased, smiling woefully. “When did you get so wise?”
“I think I’m learning about how to give my heart to someone, even though I know they are going to break it,” Min whispered, trying to silence the cajoling gremlin in his head. “Talk to Kimura-san. He has to listen to you and if not, then we will work something out. What you have with Joongie-ah, it’s real and sometimes too bitter-bright but it is yours. You knew Jae was the one… just like you had to be the one for him. You should fight for it, Yunho. Isn’t he worth that? Isn’t he worth everything?”