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.
“Come,” Yunho said, holding his hand out to Jaejoong.
The gesture held so much, a complication to their lives that Jaejoong wasn’t sure Yunho understood. Warmth. Companionship. Restoration. If he took Yunho’s hand, things would veer away from the nearly dangerous to the deadly. The fragile house of cards they live in could tumble to the ground, dealing a death blow to everything that the members worked so hard for.
His life hovered before him, an open palm waiting for him.
A hand that wore a familiar, beloved ring on one finger.
Yellow gold peeked out from under the white, the English word for love in an elegant script around the band’s girth. Rivets pierced the outer ring, holding tight and snug against the band. Jaejoong’s mouth laved both bands when they’d first been placed on Yunho’s finger, his teeth scraping the other man’s skin as his tongue played with the shifting rings.
They’d made love dressed only in their rings, no other jewelry or piercings. Just the simple, expensive bands they shared.
Jaejoong flung his rings at Yunho when the other man turned his back on them after Kimura cleaved their relationship. He didn’t know that his lover still wore his, too enraptured in his anger and pain to take notice of the world around him.
Now shame clouded his eyes as he stared at the symbol of Yunho’s devotion winking silver and gold at him.
“Take my hand, baby,” Yunho said, his tears slick and shining across his brown eyes.
“Too much…” Jaejoong stumbled. “I’ve done too much. So much has changed.”
“The stars haven’t fallen from the sky,” Yunho replied, his fingers trembling with the effort of not touching his lover’s beautiful face. “There’s still time. For anything we want.”
Jaejoong took his once-lover’s hand and let himself be led out of the darkness and into the shining light.
Yunho’s bed was wider than his, a broad expanse of mattress and sheets that made Jaejoong nervous. His stomach fluttered, fear creeping over his limbs and rendering them nearly useless. He stumbled, hitting his bare toes on the bed’s frame. Yunho was there to catch him, strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him up easily.
It was somewhere Jaejoong longed to be. And somewhere he didn’t think he had the right to anymore.
“I…” Jaejoong sighed, wondering where to start and what to say.
“No, baby, I need to talk to you first.” Yunho guided Jae to the edge of the bed, using his hands to move the other man’s hips.
He spanned the other man’s waist with his palms, riding down Jae’s body until he felt the jut of his lover’s bones on his fingers. He itched to strip Jaejoong and lay him back into the sheets, feeling the man’s lean, long body underneath him but they had words between them, festering pockets of anger rising on each tide of their emotions.
Studying Yunho’s serious face, Jaejoong slid back, crossing his legs to pull his knees up. The barrier of his bone and muscle made him feel safer, as if he could somehow keep his heart from being broken if Yunho couldn’t see where it beat in his chest. The singer didn’t trust his voice, too often his wandering mind took over his tongue and the secrets he held in his heart were burning through his shaky control. Biting at his cheek, Jaejoong rested his chin on his knee, staring at the silver band on his toe.
“It seems so long ago, doesn’t it?” Yunho sat down on the bed, daring himself to touch the ring Jae wore on his toe. They were so young then, naïve in believing they could withstand anything that the world would throw at them as long as they had one another. The ring he’d given his young lover, embellished with symbols of the night sky, was a paltry silver thing he’d picked up on a whim. They’d since both replaced their original bands with other more expensive bands but Jae had a fondness for the simple, a sentimental longing for the innocent times when Yunho struggled only with how his family viewed their love.
Now they truly hidden from the world and the battered silver ring was all they had joining them to that small apartment where Jaejoong opened his heart to a headstrong Yunho.
“The rooftop?” Jae whispered from behind his shield of bone and hurt.
It was no surprise to Yunho that his lover… the angelic half of his soul… knew what he was thinking just by a glance and a few words. Grinning, he looked up, capturing Jaejoong’s eyes as he moved. “Do you remember Junsu trying to teach the other two about constellations?”
“Heh, he almost had Changmin convinced there was a giraffe in the stars,” Jae smiled at the memory, a piqued youngest stomping down the stairs to look for reference material, no longer trusting the bubbly voiced tenor. “Minne-ah was so disturbed at the thought of a frivolous constellation. He’d take it better now. The teasing. It’s easier for him to accept.”
“It is,” Yunho agreed. “But now…”
“Now he’d hit Junsu with the book instead of looking things up in it,” Jaejoong’s laughter lifted Yunho’s heart, despite the bitter thread running through it. Saddened, the singer’s brightness soured, a trickle of over-aged wine turned from a rotting wooden cask. “We were so young.”
“We’re not so old now, BooJae,” Yunho teased.
Risking the other man’s ire, he tucked his fingers under Jae’s chin, lifting the singer’s face up until he could stare directly into the cedar gaze that he’d fallen in love with. It was rare to see Jaejoong’s true eye colour. He hid them, masking himself off from the world with a splash of mystery and hue. The change had been subtle, a slow migration away from the young cast-off to the sleek bodied singer Yunho saw sitting on the bed. But the insecure, rough-voiced, throw-away youth was still there under everything. When the accessories and masks were stripped away, Yunho found the rawness of Jaejoong’s soul still bleeding with pain.
“Can we ever go back to that?” Jae asked, his breath whispering a kiss over Yunho’s fingers. “Do you even want to?”
“No.” Yunho shook his head, thumbing away the trickle of a tear starting at the corner of Jaejoong’s eye. “We’re different people. I want the man who grew with me. Who suffered with me through all of us. That’s the man I want next to me. That boy I fell in love with, the one who taught me how to love with my heart and soul, he’s stronger and has been loved. Is still loved. I’ve never stopped loving that boy but I love the man, Jaejoong, more.”
“I’ve been…” He turned away, breaking the contact of Yunho’s fingers. Swallowing, Jaejoong bit at the corners of his lips, unable to open up his heart. “There are things that have happened…”
“Anything that you’ve done… or been, I can forgive or even not know. I don’t care, Joongie-ah.” Yunho shifted, the mattress dimpling under his weight. Moving his knees until he could stretch his legs around Jae’s shins, Yunho gripped Jae’s shoulders, hurting when the other man winced at the touch. “Is it that bad? That you can’t stand for me to touch you?”
“No.” Horror coloured Jaejoong’s voice, darkening its richness. “Never. Yunnie-ah… I never wanted to… I don’t…”
“Then what is it? Do you need time to … do we need more time?” Yunho tried to catch Jae’s eyes, unable to get the other man to look at him. “God, Joongie, what have you done?”
“Where are you?” Se7en rumbled, wiping away the rain from his face.
Tokyo wept, drenching itself in tears run filthy with dirt. Despite the constant storm, the skies couldn’t seem to cleanse itself of the city’s muck and the gutters ran thick with mud drawn from the clouds. Around him, lights were flickering on and off, the power grid struggling to maintain its integrity as lightning struck from above.
“I’m at a tea shop,” Min responded, a crackle spreading his words apart. “Right near our apartment. I couldn’t sleep so I came downstairs. Jaejoong was heading up but I don’t think he saw me. I thought maybe Yunho would want to talk to him so I left the apartment.”
“And the hyenas? Where are they?”
“Aish, don’t call them that. They aren’t that bad,” Min scolded. An image of Yoochun and Junsu fallen in on themselves as they giggled over something the other three members didn’t catch changed his mind. “Never mind. That’s the perfect nickname for them. They are hyenas. Did you know the female hyena is the dominant in the pack? That’s probably why the two of them have to keep track of who’s doing what. Both of them want to be the woman.”
“First, I don’t want to know about Yoochun and Junsu tracking anything in their sex life,” Se7en growled into the phone. “And secondly, I don’t…”
“What?” Min tapped the phone. “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” Se7en said. “Hold on a second. I want to show you something.”
A beep and a click later, Min sat in awe as Se7en’s photo arrived. The lights of the music district were bright, despite the late hour, and the rain added sparkling dots to frame the billboards going up as the city slept. Only partially done, Se7en zoomed in on one in particular, one with Yunho and most of Changmin’s face plastered up. Two men worked furiously in the rain, fighting the elements to raise the wide announcement of Tohoshinki’s first single, their bodies frozen in the moment of sweeping squeegees across Min’s chin.
“Oh…” Min bit back a squeal, cursing the sounds he made into the phone. “Oh…oh…. Oh….”
“Minku, I just cannot wait until I’m the one getting you to make those sounds,” Se7en sighed. “God, you’re making me hard just listening to you. Stop it. You’re driving me crazy and I can’t even have you near me right now.”
“I know,” Min sighed. He was torn between staring at the photo or talking to Se7en. Hitting save, he put the phone back to his ear. “I wish we could at least meet up while you are here in Japan. At least if I saw you…”
“You’d what?” The growl in his voice was back, seductive and promising. “I can tell you that if I saw you right now, I’d probably be dragged off by your company’s watchdogs for spreading you over the table you’re sitting at and ravaging your mouth.”
“You’re silly,” Min glanced about him, noting how sparsely populated the tea shop was. “But I do wish you were nearer.”
“You are a cruel and evil thing, Shim Changmin,” Se7en replied. “You’d have me sit across of you without being able to touch you? That’s mean.”
“I couldn’t touch you either,” Min protested.
Not like you’d have the guts to touch him, his inner voice grumbled. We are going to die a virgin. Wasted away like an inflated balloon leaking air until finally, it falls… limp and stretched out with nothing inside of it.
“I am going to take a fork and poke it into my ear until I can stab at you,” Changmin grumbled, rubbing at his forehead. “I said that out loud again, huh?”
“Yes, but it’s…”
“If you say cute, you shall not only never kiss me but I’ll rip your lips off your face. I am not cute. I do not do cute.”
“Honey, you’re cute,” Se7en laughed heartily. “And I fully intend to do cute.”
“Aish, what you say.” Changmin swallowed, hoping he could hide his blushing cheeks from the waitress dropping off his refill of tea. “You have a filthy mouth.”
“Not as filthy as I’d like it to be with you inside of it.” He laughed again at Changmin’s irritated hiss. “Okay, I’ll behave. Besides, I think I’m a little awed about having a boyfriend who’s on a billboard in the middle of a Tokyo walkway.”
The silence on the phone startled Se7en and he stepped back, causing a jam in the foot traffic around him. Fighting through the crowd, he reached the edge of the sidewalk, ducking to fit his tall frame under a store’s low awning.
“Minku?” Se7en checked his phone, confused at the full signal but lack of sound. “Are you there? Did you faint?”
“No,” Min mumbled. Grabbing his tea, he gulped down a mouthful, scorching his tongue on the hot brew. Bitter, the green tea froth seeped down his throat, meeting the rise of his nervous stomach. “I’m here.”
“You okay, baby?” Se7en winked at an elderly woman who eyed him as she passed, sharing the secret smile of people who loved another deeply. Her husband ambled next to her, his thin arm quivering as he held a wide umbrella up over her head, his other hand on the small of her back. Se7en watched as the old man stepped off of the curb face and held his hand out for his diminutive wife, helping her step over the growing puddle creeping over the asphalt. He turned his attention back to his call. “Did you see someone hotter than me? Do I have to go over there and kick someone’s ass for stealing my Minku? Or did the billboard shake you up that much?”
“You… called me your boyfriend,” Changmin replied slowly, cupping his hand over the phone. No one was near but he wasn’t going to take any chances, especially not on such a sensitive subject.
“Well, that’s kind of what you are, Minku.” Se7en chuckled, the sound setting off another fire storm in Min’s belly.
“But you’ve not… I mean, we’ve not…”
“You don’t have to have sex to be in a relationship, Changmin,” The older man said, growing serious. “You and I… we’re doing this with our voices and our minds for right now and that’s more than enough to be called… at least boyfriend. Sure, the physical is nice. It is. Don’t get me wrong but really, I can get fucked anywhere from anybody. I want more from you. I want more with you.”
“Oh,” Changmin exhaled, trying to steady his rattled nerves. “Um, the billboard is nice too.”
“Nice?” Se7en glanced up at the sign, his soon-to-be lover’s face now completed. “It’s awesome. Rocking even. You guys are breaking in.”
“It doesn’t seem like that,” Min replied. “The last thing we did...tonight? There were only a few hundred people and no one clapped during it. There wasn’t a sound from the audience. And no one stood up or anything.”
“Aish, did they clap afterwards?” He asked.
“Yes. It was loud then.”
“Did you see people leaning forward? I know it’s hard with the lights but the people up front but did you see people leaning towards the stage?”
“Yes. Junsu thought it was weird.”
“That’s because Junsu isn’t Japanese,” Se7en replied. “They don’t clap during performances. Well sometimes but it’s rare. Usually only for really big arenas but really for smaller venues, they listen. You don’t hear noise because they’re listening to you. They clap afterwards. If you hear anything during a performance, then no one likes you. Silence is good. Leaning forward is even better because they are giving you their full attention.”
“That’s… odd,” Changmin said, taking another sip of his tea. It tasted better cooled and he lifted the cup lid off, blowing off some of the steam. “I think I’m too used to hearing the audience… talk back to us.”
“It’ll change. The bigger places you play, the louder the audience will get but yeah, they liked you,” Se7en reassured him. “Didn’t anyone tell you that? Like your manager?”
“Kimura-san said we were… disappointing,” The young man said, leaning back in his chair. “He told Jae to meet him at his hotel room later. He wanted to go over how Jae sings his part.”
“Kimura.” The man’s name sounded like a curse as Se7en uttered it. “Minku, do me a favour and stay away from him.”
“But he’s our manager.” Min set the cup down, confused. “I can’t stay away from him. He shares our apartment.”
“God, and whatever you do, don’t be alone in a bedroom with him,” Se7en exhaled sharply. “Shit, please. Just do me that favour.”
“Okay,” Min agreed. “But I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Se7en checked the sky, sighing as the downpour slackened. “I have to go pack still. I’ll call you from Korea but please, listen to me, okay? And if you can, don’t let him be alone with Jaejoong either.”
Cross, Min pursed his mouth. “Are you ever going to explain this?”
“Yeah,” Se7en replied. “Probably. Maybe. I just want you to be careful about Kimura. The man’s an predator and from where he’s standing, you, my little Minku, are the best kind of prey.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Jaejoong replied, shaking his head at Yunho’s concern. “Not really. There were things that happened. Things I can’t talk about because if I do, I think it would tear us apart. Tear the members apart. I just don’t know…”
“Don’t know what?” Yunho asked, softly stroking at the young man’s hair. “You know you can tell me anything. Didn’t we all agree that we’d not have secrets from each other? Didn’t you tell me once that we needed to say when we hurt?”
“No, I can’t. And I want to. I miss having you with me. On me. I miss…having you in me.” Pulling away seemed like the smartest thing to do but Jaejoong couldn’t bring himself to place any distance between them. Yunho’s hands on him felt good, so unlike the last man who stroked at his body. “When you touch me, I feel better but I can’t help but think you’re getting my filth on you.”
“Baby, you’re not dirty. Why do you say those things? I thought we’d talked that through? Has something happened?” Alarmed, Yunho lightly gripped Jae’s shoulders, pulling him out of his fetal curl. “Did your father get a hold of you? Or my father? Did he say something to you?”
“No, none of that,” Jae admitted. “I’d tell you if your father called me. Or your mother.”
“Then what?” He pushed. “I want to get through this. I want you back in my bed. I want us to be in a room together again. Did you see what I did to Yoochun’s lip? I’m jealous of your brother now! Because he talks to you and can get a smile.”
“You punched Yoochun? When?” Jae pulled back, working free of Yunho’s hands. The contact was missed but the pain radiating out of his shoulders hurt too much to stand. Edging close, he sat until he touched Yunho’s side, hoping the other man would take that as a substitute. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Because I’m stupid,” Yunho admitted. “That night when you came back late. I went in to ask him where you were… I really wanted to talk to you then but he and Junsu were cuddling and…”
“You were mad because Yoochun had something you didn’t.” Jaejoong’s smile was admonishing and Yunho blushed darkly. “You are such an ox, sometimes.”
“You are one to talk, Boo.” Frowning with a mock grimace, Yunho poked at Jaejoong’s side, unwittingly hitting a bruise as he struck one of the other man’s ticklish spots. The hiss went unnoticed and the leader tilted his head to one side. “But I do know you’ll…we’ll need to fix this. I need to fix this. I know that.”
“Not only you, Yunnie-ah.”
“Let’s start with me. Like talking to Kimura,” The leader said, making a face. “I should have told him no about the rooms. You should be in here with me. Junsu should be with Yoochun and Min…well, Min could share Kimura’s room, maybe? I can fix this, Boo. I can. Just give me the chance to fix things. That’s all I ask.”
“No!” Biting back his alarm, Jae’s heart pounded unevenly, fear freezing the blood in his veins. “Min can’t be with him. Never. Not in a room. Not in the house. Please, Yunnie, don’t ask him for that.”
“Jae…he’s our manager. Min’s shared rooms with our managers before. It’s no different.”
“It’s very different,” Jaejoong replied.
Hooking his shirt up, Jae peeled his shirt off, balling the fabric up in his hands to give himself something to hold onto…anything to cling to when Yunho saw the mottled pattern of black and purple worked over his pale skin. The horror he’d expected to see was there along with something indefinable…something Jaejoong feared was disgust and repulsion towards what his lover had fallen into.
“You see, Yunnie-ah, I need to talk to you about why Min can’t… he can’t be in there with him.” Unable to look at the man he loved, Jaejoong dropped his head, too ashamed at what he’d become. “I need to talk to you about Kimura.”