Title: On The Red Couch
Pairing: YunJae (with some YooSu and Min7en)
Chapter Rating: R
Part One: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 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.
Yunho stared at the man standing in the open doorway. He was lean, a supple erotic construct of a man that Yunho wasn’t entirely sure was real. His life experiences didn’t prepare him for the likes of the polished, sensual creature who felt as much male as he was female. Gackt wore his confidence as a second skin and Yunho knew he was looking at the man Jaejoong had the potential of becoming… if he survived the apocalypse of his soul.
“Come in, Jung Yunho,” Gackt stepped aside. His t-shirt was thin and Yunho could see through the fabric to the bronze circles of his nipples. A shadow hinted at a trim stomach, whispers of muscles and a tear near his ribs exposed a hint of pale skin. Leaving Yunho standing by the open door, he walked down the main foyer, his bare feet silent on the cool stone tiles.
Gackt was nearly swallowed by the candlelit dim before Yunho realized he should follow. Closing the heavy wooden door behind him, the young Korean quickly worked his sneakers from his feet and hurried after the singer.
The house was a dizzying collection of rooms, half walls and glass sheets. He finally found the singer in a library of sorts, the shelves with manga and manhwa. Water flowed between the panes of blue glass that served as walls, intersecting the view to what appeared to be a living room. A bright red blanket covered someone sleeping on a white couch and Yunho’s heart skipped up to his throat.
“Joongie-ah,” Yunho stopped, his fingers pressed against the glass-trapped waterfall. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Gackt purred, further reminding the leader of his main vocalist. “He fell asleep. He was done crying and finished his wine.”
“Crying,” Yunho didn’t sound surprised. Gackt’s eyebrows lifted and his grey-hued eyes followed the young man as he walked around the room. “He seems to do that a lot when he thinks none of us are looking. Why was he crying here?”
There were layers of feeling in Yunho’s words, Gackt realized. Betrayal, hurt, injured pride and concern. Yunho’s jealousy fought with his love for Jaejoong and the Japanese man could see the struggle in the other man’s emotions, anger fighting for dominance. He stayed calm, despite the fire in his eyes, cooling pulling on the role of leader. The love and concern in Yunho’s eyes won out, it seemed, despite the inferno in his heart.
“I’ve been…speaking with your Jaejoong,” The other man replied smoothly, offering Yunho a bottle of Asahi beer. “Here, you’ll want this.”
“Thanks.” Popping open the bottle, Yunho sniffed at the beer, inhaling the wisps of cold. He took a tentative drink and nodded his approval. “Thank you for sending the car. I never would have found this place.”
“You are welcome. Please sit down.”
The room seemed comfortable enough, wide couches made for lounging with individual lighting near tables large enough to hold a book and a drink. Katana were displayed on one wall, a black wooden rack bristling with the long swords. They looked old, even to Yunho’s untrained eye and he turned to give them a closer look and spotted an elaborate, formal white uchikake hanging from a T-bar. It was an eclectic blend of traditional and urban, and strangely soothing.
He sat, choosing a couch where he could watch the living room and the young man who held his love in a battered heart. The beer left a small buzz in his brain but he shook it off. Gackt’s feline-like presence kept him alert and he didn’t need alcohol dulling his senses.
“How long have you been… speaking with him?”
There were other questions Yunho wanted to ask; Do you love him?
Does he tell you his secrets? Does he let you hold him when he cries? Do you want him as much as I want him?
Does he love you in return?
Has he stopped loving me?
“For a while.”
Yunho wanted to grab Gackt by his filmy expensive t-shirt and shake him, loosening his tongue and spilling everything the man heard or ever said to Jaejoong. Or ask more questions he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.
His mind whispered, driving Yunho slowly insane: Has he told you he loves me? Has he said he can’t live without me? Is he dying inside and are you the one he wants to save him?
Does he love me at all?
“Does he talk about me?” He finally asked, trying to keep his heart from breaking. Yunho felt… tiny in front of this man, a child set before a creature that stepped out of legends. Giving Gackt a sideways glance, he was again struck by the otherness the Japanese singer embodied. He wasn’t even entirely sure the man was human.
Snorting, Yunho recalled the first time he’d seen Jaejoong, defiant, beautiful and feral. He’d hated him on sight, viewing him as a rival.
At the time, Yunho didn’t think Jaejoong was human either.
“Sometimes we talk about you,” Gackt admitted softly. He regretted leaving the wine in the other room but retrieving it meant he might wake up the sleeping young man on his couch. From the look in Yunho’s eyes, protective and growling, Gackt wasn’t sure he’d be allowed one foot closer to Jaejoong than necessary. “Mostly, we talk about how he feels. He talks. I listen.”
“So in this thing… between you and me.” Peeling the beer label off of the bottle seemed like a better idea than punching the feline-faced singer. At the very least, he’d want to hit the man more than once but Gackt’s graceful calm and stalking athletic walk made him pause. “Are you going to be talking or are you going to be listening?”
“Some of both.” He shrugged. “I needed to see you. I needed to talk to you about why Je-chan comes to me.”
“So it’s about Kimura.”
Gackt cocked his head to one side, studying the young Korean. “He told you, then? That he’s still bothered about Kimura?”
“No, I guessed.” Yunho swore, washing the bitter away with a splash of beer in his mouth. “So he comes to you instead of me. I’ve been kissing away his bruises and cuts for years and now he runs to you?”
“He think you’ll… be angry at him. That he’ll soil you,” Gackt warded off Yunho’s angry hiss. “Don’t be mad at him. Your Je Je has been broken before… this. He was cracked and mended over like a porcelain figurine… the shepherdess in the Wizard of Oz.”
“I know that. I’ve been with him through some of it. Did you tell him I would leave him? That I would reject him?”
“No, someone else sowed those seeds before I knew him. Those poisonous weeds took root long before either one of us were in his life.” He murmured. The Korean was as volatile as he’d imagined. In a moment, Yunho’s energy would drive him to his feet and the floor would sound with his pacing.
Yunho lasted half a minute longer than Gackt thought he would.
Gackt smiled. He wouldn’t have lasted less than half the time he’d given Yunho.
“I would never throw him away,” Yunho gritted his teeth.
Words came back to him, stained and worn at the edges but still brilliantly dark against the light of Jaejoong’s love; ‘You twist my mind around, make me do and think things that I shouldn’t even …want. You are the wickedest thing that I could have ever had happen to me. This thing between us… is not right. It can’t be.’
‘We can’t do this. I can’t do this.. Do you know what this would do to me? My family? The others? We have to leave this here. It can’t go any further.’
“Never is a long time, Yunho,” Gackt leaned back, supple and graceful. He studied Yunho, giving the young man a small smile. “Never stretches backwards as much as it does to the future. There were times in the past when you threw him aside — nothing more than an apple core that you’ve nipped all of the meat from. Some of the scars he wears — some of the minor ones — are from you.”
“I’ve apologized for those,” He growled, turning on his heel to face the older man.
“And you’ve just brought them back to your mind,” Gackt replied. “He walks on broken glass around you, afraid to come to you to speak his pain and you walk on eggshells with him, afraid to bring up his pain.”
Yunho’s temper flared then winked at him, “You related to Changmin? You sound a little bit like him.”
“The baby? No, I’ve not met him,” The Japanese man said, stroking his cheek with a finger, contemplative and musing. “I think I’d like to. From what neko-chan says, he sounds… delectable.”
Amused, Gackt watched Yunho’s pacing falter then continue. The remark about their youngest member struck a nerve.
“Are we done here then?” The leader asked, facing the man across the room. “Was that what you felt we needed to talk about? That Jaejoong is still haunted by Kimura?”
“Doesn’t that do anything to you?” Gackt snapped.
The lazy sun-drenched cat was gone, replaced by a snarling white tiger. Gackt stood in one swift motion, crossing over the floor with long strides. He was on Yunho before the younger man could react, his fingers worked through Yunho’s shirt and pulling him close. They were nose to nose before Yunho had taken another breath.
“Don’t you wonder why Kimura still haunts him? Why haven’t you asked him? Why do you linger too far away from Jaejoong for him to touch you?” The man shook Yunho, a quick shake to rattle his teeth.
“Let go of me,” Yunho shoved at Gackt’s forearms, breaking the other’s hold on him. Stepping back, he kept his fists down. The need to strike the Japanese singer grew stronger, the presumption of his words stinging. “I love Jaejoong. You have no fucking idea what I’ve given up to be with him.”
“No, I don’t,” Gackt replied sharply. “But do you have any idea what he’s gone through so you can keep whatever little pride you have left? Do you know he keeps quiet about that because he worries you have bargained your soul for him…and it was for nothing? Did you know Kimura… raped him? That everything you did to drive that man away was for nothing? Or at least nothing in Jaejoong’s eyes?”
He flung out what weapons he had, bitter words and sharp looks. Gackt wanted to bring the young man to a boil, forcing him to respond angrily to him so Yunho would go to Jaejoong’s side. He’d excelled at manipulating people and their thoughts, carving out reactions and subtly guiding others’ opinions until they matched his. He considered himself a master of socially maneuvering people around him so he was surprised when Yunho’s anger deflated and the young man slumped down onto the couch.
“You… wouldn’t know,” Yunho said, dropping his face into his hands. He was too tired for tears, worn too tight around the edges to do anything but long for some sleep and maybe food. Most of all he wanted to pull Jaejoong away from the graceful singer and back into the plainness of their lives.
Gackt came over to stand in front of Yunho. The younger man’s sorrow was too pure to ignore or push. “What wouldn’t I know, Jung?”
“I’ve known since we’ve been in the same room because Jaejoong talks in his sleep, Camui-san.” His heart froze, crackling and breaking but he forced himself on. “Through his nightmares as he cries, still asleep and unable to shake free from his dreams. He murmurs at first then starts screaming softly and saying no…begging until his voice breaks….”
“And do you know where I am?” Yunho’s eyes were broken when he looked up at Gackt. “I am there, holding him. I hold him every night, Camui, because every night I have to listen to Kimura rape him.”