Title: On The Red Couch ♥
Pairing: YunJae (with some YooSu and Min7en)
Chapter Rating: R/NC-17ish. More Lime
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.
A backbeat trill woke Changmin up and he mumbled, stretching himself out to grab his phone. Bleary eyed, he stared at the time, wondering if he’d somehow pushed his alarm clock off of the nightstand because the glowing numbers read: MMO. Rubbing at his eyes, he refocused, sliding his phone open to answer it and realized he’d somehow slid partially off the bed and his head was hanging over the edge.
“Moshi, moshi,” Min answered automatically, trying to shake the cobwebs from his head.
“Hey, baby,” A slither of black velvet sex wound through the phone and around Min’s brain, working deep into erogenous zone. “I’m sorry I’m calling so late but I just got in and I wanted to hear your voice before I crashed.”
“Ah, no,” He replied, stifling his yawn. “I’m up… I’m up.”
“You are a liar.”
“Yes but it’s a good lie,” Changmin protested, giving in to his yawn. Se7en hissed through the phone, scolding himself. “No, I’m glad you called. Don’t hang up.”
“I can’t hang up, Minku,” The other man whispered, a low thrumming heat in his voice. “There’s all kinds of things I want to do with you but this is the only way I can touch you right now. Hanging up is the last thing in the world I want.”
“How was your day?” Sliding down under the sheets, Min nestled back into his pillows and stared out his bedroom’s open windows to watch the rain. “It’s pouring here. We’re having another storm.”
“Your voice is rough,” Se7en grumbled. “What happened?”
“That’s not sleep. That’s… sorrow. Or something else. Yelling?” A curse echoed between them. “You and Yunho get into it again.”
“I hate that. I hate you sometimes,” Min groused at the singer. “Maybe I had a coughing fit or something.”
“And maybe you spent a few hours crying and maybe yelling,” Se7en replied. “I know you, baby. I know how you sound. You only sound like that when you’re tired inside and out.”
“Maybe I found another lover, huh?”
“I know how you sound like after that too, remember?” The older man’s mocking tease brought a flush of memories into Min’s overheated mind. “I can make you mew and growl. I know how your voice gets when I make you want more. I know what it’s like to hear you after my finger’s been in your mouth and you’ve licked it until it is wet enough for me to push into you… to peel you open for me. I’m just waiting for the chance to hear your voice after that but this… this is different. So no, Minku, I don’t think you’ve found another lover. You’ve not even fully found me yet and after me, there’s really not going to be anyone else that’s going to make you growl like I do.”
I don’t know what we’re waiting for, Min’s brain skittered a noise through its depths He’s talking now and we can barely move because we’re so stiff. Are you waiting until ALL of the blood’s gone from our head? How much more can we want him?
Because we still want to cry, Min reminded the little voice in his head. </i>Because Jaejoong is still bruised and cut inside and I can’t cry out in the open. Not around the others.</i>
No, His gremlin said grimly. But you can cry to him. You can share with him. Isn’t that what you accused Jaejoong of doing? Not sharing. Not being open. Hypocrite.
“Baby? You talking to yourself again?” Se7en teased. “Because it’s a lot more fun if I can hear you leaking words. Right now, I just hear you breathing and it’s not heavy breathing like you’re… making yourself ready for my mouth.”
“Se7en… Dong-Wook,” Changmin closed his eyes, trying to block out the light coming from the windows. It was too hard to talk with the blue rain in his sight. They reminded him too much of Jaejoong’s tears falling from his tinted eyes. “Can I talk to you? Can I ask you to keep a secret?”
“Yeah, babe. Of course,” Se7en settled down. All trace of teasing fled from the harsh break in Min’s tone, the humour taking to the skies in a flutter of smoky dove wings. “What’s wrong, honey? What’s the matter?”
“Remember when you told me about Kimura? About watching out for him?”
“Yeah,” Se7en paused then with a strangled voice asked, “Did he touch you Minnie-ah? Were… one of the men he touched?”
“No. No!” Changmin hurriedly assured. He bit his upper lip, debating long about what he was about to say. What went on in the group stayed among the five. Others tried to push in past the line — the purple line — Yoochun once teased; mingling the red of Dong Bang Shin Ki with a cobalt meant to be drops of water could not be parted from the sea. It meant that they could not be divided by anyone or anything. No one could come into the circle and nothing would leave it. What he said now could violate that pact. He knew Scarlet often heard from Jaejoong about the troubles the group had but the flamboyant man earned his right as one of their confidantes.
If he shared his heart with Se7en, he would be admitting to himself how much the singer had come to mean to him.
It could mean everything.
It would change everything.
And at the same time, it could destroy Min’s world with a careless whisper spoken into the wrong ear.
“I wasn’t one of the… Kimura’s victims,” Changmin hissed, hating the word that meant Jae’d been torn apart by the man’s abuse but he had no better word to whisper into Se7en’s ear. “I’m not, Dong-Wook… but Jaejoong was.”
There was a silence… no whisper of a breath or expletive. Nothing as if the world ended outside of the room Min took refuge in. He waited, taking in one breath then another. A tear fell, unbidden and heavy. Sniffing, Changmin wiped at it with the heel of his hand, smearing the moisture across his high cheekbone.
“Se7en?” He hiccupped.
“I’m here, baby,” The other man replied, subdued. “How… how is he?”
“I think he’s… I don’t know,” Min admitted. “He says he’s okay and that he’s talked to someone about it but, it makes us all hurt. I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know how to act.”
“You act like you always have,” Se7en said. The expected hiss finally came, a leak of frustration and anger pressed tight with his tongue. “Nothing changed between you and Jaejoong, right?”
“No, nothing,” Changmin agreed. “But we… we all play. We touch and hug each other all the time and lately… over the last few months, Joongie-ah pulled away. I thought maybe he was pissed off at me but Yoochun says that’s because Kimura did… those things.. some things to him… and he can’t stand to be touched any more.”
“Did you ask Jaejoong? Did you ask him how felt about it?”
“No.” The young singer pouted and stuck his chin up out of the sheets, shivering slightly from the cooler air coming in the open window. “I didn’t want to.. I didn’t want to make him feel bad.”
“I understand that,” Se7en murmured. “Why don’t we talk about how you feel? Are you okay?”
“No,” Min said. It was hard to admit it but the matter shook him to the core. He’d always imagined Jaejoong as being protected by the world. Even knowing the singer’s past, Changmin always surmised that it was light enough for the singer to survive it with a smile on his face and without missing a step. Now he realized that the only thing holding Jaejoong up was some unimaginable strength the other man drew on. “I thought he’d be… untouchable. That no one would hurt him any more…that.. this is so difficult to talk to you about, Se7en.”
“Why? Because you can’t see me?”
“No, because you’re not…” How did he explain to the other man that he never opened his heart and mind wide for someone else’s fingers to plunge into? The caress of Se7en’s voice in his life was a warm comfort, as sensual as the sun on his body during a burst of rain but he feared that his heart’s secrets would be whispered into another’s ear. Even if the other man did not mean to, the potential was there.
Was he opening Jaejoong up when he spoke to Se7en?
Was he sharing the other man’s private hellish nightmares with someone who had no right to see them?
“Because I’m not… Dong Bang Shin Ki?” Se7en said flatly. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Yes,” Changmin’s answer sliced though he said it softly, wielding the razor of his confession with a delicate touch.
“And us, what are we, Changmin?” Se7en asked, pushing through the thickening veil of Min’s secrets. He fought the restrictions the younger man placed on his life, pulling at the tight bindings of promises given to others…given by someone he wanted wholly. “Are we enough to stand next to your group? Am I enough to make it past that circle you five draw in the sand?”
“It’s not like that, Se7en,” Min protested.
“It is,” He exhaled, trying to release his frustration. “I know it is and it’s something that I thought I accepted but it bothers me when I turn to wipe your tears and they are actually behind a glass brick wall your members have erected around you. I can watch you cry. I can see your pain but there’s nothing I can do to change it. What do I have to do, Shim Changmin, what do I have to do to earn the right to wipe your tears?”
His fingers hooked the ties to his drawstring pants into two loops, twisting them into a bow. Yunho smirked back at Jaejoong when the singer chuckled at his lover tying his pants as a toddler would tie his shoes. The other man was already in bed, lying on his side with a pillow tucked against his chest and Yunho growled playfully, climbing over the mattress to bite a laughing Jaejoong on the neck.
“You’re supposed to be a tiger, remember?” Jae pushed Yunho off of him, laughing nearly too hard to breathe. “Not a vampire.”
“Why shouldn’t I bite you?” He asked, trailing the tip of his finger over the birth mark on Jae’s neck. “You’ve even got a spot on you for it.”
His teeth roamed, traveling down Jaejoong’s collarbone, barely felt through the singer’s light t-shirt. Yunho kissed along Jae’s shoulder, rounding over the bone then back up to the soft velvety skin under the other’s ear. His body reacted as it always did, thickening at the image…at the remembered feel of Jae’s moist heat around him, of the man’s fingers stroking his hard sex or the sight of his lover’s mouth parted with his tongue arching out to lick a pearled seed blooming from his weeping tip.
Yunho moved closer, pressing his shoulders against Jaejoong’s chest and pushed him over onto his back. The singer didn’t resist, laying back into the mound of pillows he’d piled up behind him. He let Yunho take the one he’d cuddled against his belly, moaning when the back of Yunho’s hand skated up his stomach, his fingers lightly skimming around Jae’s sensitive navel.
“Are you okay, baby?” Yunho froze, his breath hot in Jaejoong’s ear. “I don’t want to…”
“I’m okay,” Jae murmured, lifting his arms up to slide them around Yunho’s neck.
Pulling the man down, Jae licked at the darkened spot over Yunho’s mouth, exploring his lips with gentle bites. A moan echoed between them, neither sure if the other made the sound but from its harmonics, they were certain they both had something to do with it. He explored, finding a stretch of exposed throat he’d not nuzzled in too long. Traveling back up to Yunho’s mouth took some effort but it was worth it considering the savage response he got when the other man tangled his fingers into Jae’s hair and pulled his head back, opening the singer’s mouth wider.
“God, you taste so good, baby,” Yunho whispered into his lover’s mouth, running the tip of his tongue under Jae’s front teeth then over his upper lip. The fingers of his other hand were busy pulling Jaejoong’s nipple to a peak. He wanted it hard and sensitive enough to send a jolt through Jae’s sex when he rubbed at it through his shirt. A groaning mewl gave Yunho the satisfaction he’d been looking for and he chased his fingers down Jaejoong’s chest, closing his sharp teeth over the tightened bud. Biting down, he felt the man arch under him, instinctively spreading his legs apart and lifting his knees.
A press of Yunho’s thigh separated Jae’s legs further and he shifted on the mattress, resting his weight on his knees. Panting, Jaejoong cried out with Yunho’s ministrations, his head held fast by the other man’s fingers in his hair. Pinned down, he heard himself beg, nonsensical mewlings with no clear words other than a plaintive need winding through a ribbon of sound.
“Too long, baby. I don’t want to rush you,” Yunho warned, releasing Jae’s hair and rising to cup the man’s face. He kissed the singer deeply, resisting the urge to strip Jaejoong naked and plunge deep inside of his heat. The moist of his sex had begun, whispering want through Yunho’s belly but he kept his thoughts solely on the man writhing beneath him… the man whose hands had not touched him for months and now wildly clung to him and a sultry sexy mouth that begged him for more.
“Need,” Jaejoong cried, rubbing himself against Yunho’s hips. Their bodies met, cocks erect and weeping beneath their strained clothes. His soul echoed with Yunho’s protests, ignoring them for the raging lightning crawling over his body and setting his skin of fire. “Want you, baby. Need you, baby.”
“Only if…” He pulled back, staring down into the wild beauty of Jaejoong’s face. Years sculpted the child from the man but the innocence of Jae’s soul remained in his eyes, unknown stars dazzling in their brown depths. He knew every inch of Jae’s body…felt every bit of it against him and still Yunho found himself hungering for more…needing more. “Only if you’re sure…”
“I’m sure, Yunnie-ah,” Jae whispered into Yunho’s mouth. “I’ve never been so sure of any thing…or anyone like I am sure of you.”