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.
Changmin crossed his arms over his chest, staring at Yunho. Trouble was brewing in his brown eyes, anger lightening their cinnabar hue to amber. A curl hit his lip, a more mature expression than the others were used to seeing on their youngest and for a long moment, the group caught a glimpse of the man hidden under the boy they teased.
“How long have you know about this, hyung?”
Min’s question was directed to Yunho but the honorific didn’t fool the young man. Their youngest was pissed off, simmering below the surface. He debated lying to Changmin — momentarily then changed his mind. The internal discussion was hidden, or so he thought, until Min stepped up into his face.
“You were about to lie to me, no?” He’d dropped his arms, their chests nearly touching. The anger flared, sunbright and hot in Min’s movements. “How hard is it to tell me the truth? I trusted you, Yunho. I gave you my trust and you betrayed it once again. After all I’ve done to help you and this is how you treat me? This is the kind of respect you give me?”
Tension spilled through the living room with Min and Yunho face to face while Yoochun and Junsu watched from the couch. Jaejoong sat behind Yunho, balancing a seat on the back of the sofa, his bare feet on the cushions. The singer’s head was down, his shoulders slumped over with fatigue.
Yunho argued against telling the other members but Jaejoong reminded him that he promised to trust the others with his troubles, even if he’d taken some time to do it. Still reluctant, Yunho agreed but when faced with an angry Min, he still wondered if they’d made the right decision.
“You’re right,” Yunho admitted. “I was going to tell you I just found out about it because it would be easier to deal with but no, I’ve known for a while. I just didn’t speak to Jaejoong about it because he didn’t seem ready to.”
“Minnie-ah,” Junsu stood, sliding himself between their youngest and eldest. “Maybe the when of this should have been between the hyung? I mean, this is their relationship.”
“Really? Their relationship? Min turned his anger onto the tenor and Junsu flinched under the heat of it. “The last time I looked, we all had a relationship. It shouldn’t matter if someone is fucking someone else or not, we are all supposed to be in this together.”
A flare of Yunho’s nostrils was all the warning the others had before he launched at Changmin with clenched fists. The leader was nearly over the table before Yoochun realized it. Changmin leaned forward, bracing himself for the other’s man attack echoing Yunho’s aggressive stance.
“Hey… hey!” Yoochun stood, grabbing Yunho’s shirt before the other man could pitch himself forward at Min. Wrapping his arms around Yunho’s waist, Chunnie spun him around until they faced Jaejoong. “Hyung, no! Joongie-ah, help me here.”
“And it’s not like they’re even doing that!” Min shouted at the back of Yoochun’s head. Junsu held his hands up, pressing them against their youngest’s chest. “Susu, let me go! I need to…”
“You need to breathe, dongsaeng,” Junsu cautioned. “Your anger is eating up your common sense like it is candy. This is our hyung you are yelling at. Caution.”
“Caution why? Changmin raged, pushing Junsu away. “Why should I be cautious about someone who isn’t cautious with me? Jaejoong, you tell me you’re going to trust me but you don’t talk? We promised one another that we would!”
“I… couldn’t.” He looked up. The pain in his eyes was raw as if telling the story of Kimura in its full ugliness placed him back in the room with the dead man. “I didn’t want… to talk about it. I thought it would be better if none of you knew because it made me feel… like I was dirty. Like I wasn’t worth anything.”
“Bullshit,” Min spat back. He bucked up against Junsu when Yunho surged forward, the leader held back by a strained Yoochun. “Let him go, Chunnie-ah! Is he going to hit me to get me to submit? Like Kimura did to Joongie? Is that how you’re going to solve things, hyung?”
“Babe, hold onto him,” Yoochun said to Junsu as he struggled with Yunho. The older man was stronger, compact and supple. It took all of his strength to keep the man in place and Chunnie was slipping fast. “Hyung! Calm down. Joongie, get off your ass and help me here.”
“Chunnie, let him go,” Jaejoong slid from the couch, gripping his lover’s shirt. Looking over Yunho’s shoulder at Min, he jerked his head towards the bedroom. “Come. You and I are going to talk first. There are things I want to say to you.”
“Anything you say to him, you can say here so I can keep him in line,” Yunho snapped. Slapping at Changmin’s shoulder, he pushed the younger man back, nearly topping Junsu with shove.
Min stumbled back, catching himself before he fell to the ground. Growling he shifted forward and Junsu yelped, sliding out of the way before the younger man ran him over. Slamming into an unmoving Jaejoong, Min snarled at the singer, his temper rising out of control.
“Minnie-ah,” Jaejoong reproached. “Come on. Bedroom.”
The young man gave Yunho one final glare then let himself be pushed towards the hallway, his shoulders stiff and unyielding. Jaejoong caught his lover with a quick palm to the man’s flat stomach, holding Yunho back.
“No, Yunnie. Let me talk to him first.”
“He disrespects you like that?” Yunho gritted his teeth, keeping his voice down to a low rumble. “I want to wipe that smirk off his face with the back of my hand.”
“That’s not going to solve anything, no?” Jae asked. “Do me a favour and go take a walk. Cool down.”
“I’m not going to cool down, Je Je.” Their youngest’s remarks were outrageous, meant to cut deeply and from the look on Jaejoong’s face, Min hit his mark. “He wants honesty? I can give him honesty…”
“Yunho,” Jaejoong stepped back, bumping his shoulder against Yunho’s. “Please? Just give us some time.”
“How much time, huh? How long do I have to listen to him say things like that? He doesn’t know shit! He has no fucking idea what you’ve gone through and he can sit there and judge?” The older man turned, making a grab for Min’s shirt. Yoochun stepped forward, grunting as Yunho’s mass struck him. “Sit down, Chunnie. Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”
“I think everyone’s pissed off right now, yes?” Yoochun tucked his head in close to his leader’s, his voice low and calm. “Maybe let Jaejoong talk to him and we can sit out here? We can maybe talk things out? We can go have dinner later? Talk over some beer? Or even sake. Sake is good.”
“I don’t want… fine, Joongie-ah, I’ll go walk it off.” Yunho took a deep breath, his chest puffing out as he stared up at the ceiling. Pacing off, he grabbed his house keys from the counter, stopping only long enough to point a finger at Min’s glowering face. “When I come back, your shit better be over with… or you’re answering to me!”
Yunho slammed the door behind him, the photos in the hallway rattling in his wake. Changmin’s lower lip jutted out and Jae feared Min would follow the older man, hounding him more until they came to violence. As hot headed as their leader, their youngest simmered, his rage fully engaged in the argument.
“Come on,” Jae said, quietly padding to the bedroom.
Changmin hesitated, turning to watch the older man walk down the hallway. Disgruntled, he was torn between chasing down Yunho or obeying his older member. Culture warred with his modern independence but eventually, old habits won out and he huffed, grumpily following Jaejoong down the hall and into the master bedroom.
Junsu slid onto the couch first, more relieved than worried. Working his fingers through his hair, he was starting to resemble a rooster when Yoochun patted him on the head, smoothing it back down. Slumping back, he grumbled under his breath. “They make it so hard. Why does everyone have to be moody?”
“Because we’re moody people, Susu-ah,” Yoochun said, flopping down on the cushions. His weight bounced Junsu up, jostling the singer. “We’re singers. We’re supposed to be moody.”
“I’m not moody!”
“Are you kidding? You have two moods, disgusting sugar and grumpy,” His lover snorted. Rubbing at his forehead, Yoochun wondered if Yunho’s anger seared off his eyebrows. His fingers brushed over the dabs of hair above his eye and he shook his head. “I hate it when everyone fights.”
“Me too,” Junsu nodded. “You looked like you were going to cry there.”
“No!” Yoochun sniffed, wiping his nose. “Shut up. I have allergies. Someone downstairs has a cat I think. Or something. Her coat was covered in fur and I rode up on the elevator with her.”
“Pffts. You always cry. People ask if we fight and I say no… because Yoochun cries all the time. How do you fight with someone who cries?” Sneaking a smile at his boyfriend, Junsu winked and then burst into laughter when Yoochun smacked him. “Hey, be nice. I’m the only one talking to you right now.”
“I think we’re the only ones talking to each other right now,” The baritone muttered, peeking down the hall. “Does yelling count as talking?”
“No, yelling doesn’t count. Are they yelling?” Junsu strained to listen. He couldn’t hear anything other than Yoochun’s breathing. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Lean closer,” Yoochun told him, moving over towards the couch arm. The tenor scooted over the couch, bending closer to his boyfriend.
“I don’t hear…”
Yoochun slid his hand around Junsu’s neck, pulling the young man closer. He started with a gentle kiss, licking at his boyfriend’s expressive mouth until Junsu couldn’t help but part his lips to let Yoochun explore deeper. Sighing, Chunnie marveled at the softness of Junsu’s mouth, sucking and teasing at the lower bow with his teeth. Something inside of him growled and he groaned, wanting to consume every last inch of the man sitting across of him.
He tugged at Junsu’s shirt, needing to feel the other’s skin on his palms. He hit his elbow on the couch back, dinging his funny bone on the frame. Swearing into Junsu’s mouth, Yoochun shifted, pulling the other man between his legs and angling him to get a better grip on Junsu’s back.
Their tongues licked and withdrew, the kisses growing longer and deeper. Junsu moaned, an itch growing from his belly down to his groin. He twisted, kneading at Yoochun’s shoulders, working his hands down the other man’s back. Yoochun’s t-shirt caught at his wrists and Junsu growled, sliding himself down the other man’s body.
“Babe,” Yoochun slid to the side, hooking his arm around Junsu’s waist and pulling him down onto the couch. Covering the other man, the baritone stretched over Junsu, finally able to work the shirt off of his lover. Tossing it aside, Yoochun bent down, suckling at Junsu’s right nipple. He rubbed the rough of his palm over the other, teasing it to a peak as he laved the other. Chewing back and forth with his teeth, Yoochun licked and chewed, slowly working his lover into a froth.
“Chunnie!” Junsu gasped and pushed hard against his boyfriend’s stomach. “Wait, stop.. stop.”
“Stop?” Chun looked up, searching the room for anyone else. “Why? No one is here? What?”
“We can’t do this now.”
“We can do this now,” He grumbled, licking at Junsu’s belly, traveling down the singer’s abdominal crease until he reached the button of his jeans. “I’m doing it right now. If I keep going, you could be doing it right now too.”
“Come on, we can’t,” Junsu struggled to sit up, pushing Yoochun off of him. Searching for his shirt, he spotted it across the room, hanging from one of the swinging lamps. “We can’t do this while everyone else is fighting.”
“Why do you have attacks of morals when everyone is off chewing each other’s heads off? We’re alone!”
“Why do you always get horny when everyone’s fighting,” Mumbling, he pulled his shirt on, getting it caught on his chin. Tugging it down, he popped his head through, choking on the collar. “What?”
“It’s backwards.” Yoochun sighed, lying back on the couch. Grumpy, he rested his feet on the arm of the chair, making squicking noises with his mouth.
“What?” Junsu twisted, trying to get his sleeve corrected. “I can’t hear you.”
“Your. Shirt. Is. Backwards,” Yoochun repeated.
“Hold on,” Junsu shed his shirt again, trying to turn it inside out. “My shirt was on backwards. It was blocking my ears.”
Yoochun rolled his eyes then froze when the front door slammed. A still angry Yunho prowled into the living room, none of the fire banked away. He stopped, skidding on the wooden floor as he first looked at the reclining Yoochun, his mouth swollen from Junsu’s lips and then the tenor, half naked with his shirt over his hands.
“On the couch?” Yunho picked up one of the throw pillows, slapping Junsu on the back of the head with it. The tenor ducked, yelping as he dodge another blow. “Wasn’t it bad enough that we had to bleach the damned kitchen counter and pull Susu’s boxers out of the dishwasher? Now I’ve got to listen to the other two bitch about how the damned couch smells?”
“Heh, the counter. God that was fun.” Yoochun’s burst of laughter brought the pillow across his head and he barked a protest, holding his forehead where the pillow hit him. “Ouch! Hey what was that for?”
“That was for the counter,” Yunho hit him again, crawling on top of Chunnie before pummeling him with the soft cushion. “And these, Chunnie-ah, is for the couch. Don’t go far, Susu-ah, you’re next.”
“Okay, enough,” Yoochun cried out, holding his arms out to block the pillows. Junsu collapsed next to him, wiping the tears from his eyes. Hooking his arm around Junsu’s neck, Yoochun pulled him over, ticking at his bare ribs. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m going to look for fabric deodorizer. Try not to hump the coffee table while I’m gone.” Yunho growled, tossing the pillow onto the sofa.
“Oh he’s grumpy,” Yoochun kissed his boyfriend, flicking his tongue up to dab at the end of his nose. “And you know, those were your boxers I took the blame for.”
“Technically, Chunnie-ah, I wasn’t the one who shoved them in the dishwasher.” Junsu winked at Yoochun, flashing him a wicked smile that tasted of a sinful night. “They were your boxers. I just stole them to wear.”