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.
The nightmare came without warning. It struck hard, lightning fast through Jae’s dreaming mind. Cold hands touched his back, the inside of his thighs and moved quickly, forcing his legs open. He could feel his mouth was open but no sound came loose from his tight throat. Fear kept him silent and a strange fog filled his mind. Something sticky kept him from thinking and his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. A sour film covered his tongue, an odd combination of vomit and chemicals, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t scrape the taste off.
Yunho woke with the first murmur. He’d spent nights lying in a half-dozing state, listening for the whimpering almost-scream of his lover as he fought with his dream-demons. Over time, the episodes became less frequent and Yunho almost believed they were gone when one would capture Jae’s sleep and the terrors would begin again.
Jaejoong never woke from the horrors trapping him. A touch on his shoulder curled the singer into a ball, shivering and pleading to be left alone. Yunho’s heart broke time and time again when he tried to shake the other from his nightmares only to be seen as his attacker. Soft words did nothing but quiet the murmurs down, a low sibilance as Jae begged into his clenched fists. He never struck out, not until the very end of the dream and even then, the flailing was graceless as if the man were trapped in water, without full control of his body.
It made Yunho wonder if Kimura drugged Jaejoong into senseless in order for the young man to stand his touch. It also sickened Yunho to wonder if Kimura was able to do more than Jae remembered and the dreams were the echoes of nearly-forgotten pains. Either way, Yunho wasn’t going to poke at the nightmare more than he had to in order to break its grip on Jae’s mind.
Risking Jae’s fear returning full force, Yunho skimmed his hand over the other man’s bare arm. “Joongie-ah, wake up.”
He shook the man lightly and as he feared, Jaejoong tightened, pulling his knees up to protect his belly. His fingers clenched into fists, Jae tossed his head aside, trying to get away from Yunho’s mouth and hand. Rocking in place, Jaejoong slid from his nest of pillows, the sheets tangled around his legs and imprisoned his body in a cotton cocoon.
“No.” Words broke free from the unintelligible whimpers, escapees from the horror. “No…not… yours.”
“Baby, please.” If Jaejoong was trapped in a dream world he couldn’t wake from, Yunho was caught in the thrall of a nightmare he thought would never end. Turning Jaejoong over onto his back, he desperately pressed his lips to Jae’s, breathing a kiss into his lover’s mouth. “Boo, please… let go. Wake up for me, okay? Please?”
“Yun?” A sob fractured Yunho’s name and Jaejoong blinked, trying to focus on the face hovering over him. He recoiled, drawing back with fear, unable to see clearly. “No…”
“Baby… BooJae… please, honey,” The man pled, his heart pouring into his sleep roughened voice. “Come back to me. Please.”
Another blink and Jae’s eyes flew open, black and consuming in his pale face. A scream lay on his tongue, partially formed and caught on the roof of his mouth, a hiccup of a sound he forced out with a whimper. Shaking violently, he tried to sit up but his body refused to respond, locking him still. Frightened and out of control, he fought the seizure, shivering and panting in a frenzied panic.
“I’ve got you,” Yunho whispered, tucking his arm under his lover’s knees. Supporting Jae’s back with his forearm, he lifted him easily from the bed, dragging him up out of the sweaty sheets and into the cooler night air.
Jaejoong continued to squirm, sleep reluctant to give up its victim. The nightmare clung to him, spider web thick on his mind and he gasped, pushing aside the memories of a dead man’s hands on his back. A terrible shudder ratcheted his spine, working through his frozen joints and twisting his muscles into firm knots. Lying in Yunho’s lap, he jerked askew, a broken doll cast aside by a thoughtless, cruel child.
“Hey baby… baby,” Yunho crooned, his words nonsensical and soothing. He kept the patter up, seeking to comfort the other man. His voice broke, shattered under the stress of trying to pull Jaejoong back from the edge of fearful insanity. Struggling with his own tears, Yunho shifted the other man and strained to find something to say… anything to anchor his lover into the present.
Yunho reached for something they shared, a memory of a sound that seemed so far away, something they’d sung to one another at a time when they denied their passions. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember the beginning, murmuring the melody until his mind relaxed enough and the words flowered from his memory.
I want to send you these feelings…. Oh baby,
For some reason, I can't tell you the truth, I can't say it
Even though it's just a feeling…If I say it aloud
Everything might disappear …ooooooh
My arms are open wide, For yoooou
To be held
I want to hold you
But for me, Something is missing
I continue to shake, Because I'm unable to share my feelings
I love you
“You had to sing it in Japanese?” Jaejoong murmured, folding his arms around Yunho’s. He hugged the embrace, turning slightly to slide his hands around his lover’s waist.
“It was all I could remember,” Yunho admitted ruefully, rubbing his nose. “It’s been in my head for so long now, I think it’s the only version I know.”
“It’s okay,” He replied softly. “I like that version better. Thanks.”
“Wait here.” Yunho slid out from under Jaejoong, flicking a sconce to its lowest setting and padded over to the bathroom. He returned moments later, holding a cool damp cloth. “Sit up, babe.”
Jae pulled himself free of the sheets, shaking them off of his ankle. Closing his eyes, he nearly purred as his lover ran the wet cloth over his back. Blowing on the wet swath, Yunho worked the washcloth over Jae’s shoulders and over to his chest, moving around the young man’s body until the flush was gone from his skin. The cloth was nearly dry by the time he reached Jae’s feet, the terrycloth tickling the spaces between the singer’s toes.
“No…no,” Jaejoong’s laughter sang in the room, soaring as Yunho covered his pinkie toe with the washcloth and rubbed it back and forth as if he were polishing a melon. “That tickles. Yunnie-ah!”
“Come here.” Yunho tossed the cloth to the side, letting it fall somewhere on the floor. Opening his arms, he held Jaejoong against him, rocking the other man with a slight sway. “I love you, Joongie-ah. And whenever you need me, I’ll be here.”
“I know…” He mumbled, his face buried in Yunho’s thin shirt. Wrapping himself around Yunho, he let go of the final sob he held in his breast, the broken harsh sob a fleeting sound under Jae’s bitter laughter. “I just feel… dirty. Like I can’t ever get clean.”
“That’s normal,” The other man said. Jae looked up at his lover, curious at the statement. “Don’t look at me like that. I… um… read some things.”
“Eh?” Jaejoong looked at the man dubiously. Yunho was not known for his extensive reading, preferring more physical activities although lately, he’d been picking up more and more literature to keep himself occupied. “What did you read?”
“Some… booklets,” He responded with a shrug. “And a book. About…”
Jae pressed in, “About…what?”
“I thought it would help if I understood what you were going through,” Yunho shrugged again, trying to shake off the embarrassment of his lover’s curiosity on him. “I read!”
“I know you can read,” Jae teased. “I just didn’t know you did.”
“For you, I did,” He responded with a teasing indignant sniff. “There wasn’t a lot I could find. And I was stuck with mostly Korean but… Chunnie helped me a bit. There was more in English but I didn’t… I couldn’t make out the translations.”
“You read about… me?” The young man sat up, cocking his head to study the blush across Yunho’s cheekbones. “How so?”
“About how men deal with… monsters like Kimura,” Yunho kept his voice low. Admitting his helplessness hurt and telling the man he loved that he had been useless to help him stung his pride. “I needed to understand how you felt and… what I should…what I could do to make you feel better.”
“What did the books say?” Crossing his legs at his ankles, Jae hugged himself, unsure if he was willing to listen to his lover talk so openly about the horror he’d experienced. Ever curious, his flaw got the best of him and he pressed in closer to Yunho’s side, encouraging the other man to continue talking. “Tell me. What?”
“That you’d feel like you weren’t… good enough to be around the people who loved you.” Yunho shook his head. “And see, that’s stupid because you were too good for me to begin with. If anything, this made you even stronger. I look at how you survive everything the world has thrown on your shoulders and I… can’t think… I can’t imagine what you went through. I can’t.”
“I don’t want to even think about it,” Jae admitted, his voice softened with tenderness. “I… I’m not that strong. Why did you… go looking?”
“Because of nights like this. Because I needed to know what to do when you couldn’t scream when you wanted to…when you needed to,” He said. Reaching up, he cupped Jaejoong’s face, holding the other man’s chin up so he could gaze into his lover’s warm brown eyes. “Because I needed to understand. I needed to know what happened to you…inside so I could help you.”
“Just being here helps me.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Yunho replied, stroking at the man’s jaw with the flats of his thumbs. “Not if you still are afraid to go to sleep because Kimura comes to you in the dark. I wanted to kill him, over and over again every time you made a noise in the middle of the night and I couldn’t do anything but lie here and hold you…whenever you let me.”
“I read everything I could. Some of it, I threw away because it was written by someone stupid enough to blame the person who… was attacked. Like they did something to cause it. I know that’s not true,” The man rejected Jaejoong’s nodding agreement. “It’s not, Jaejoong. It’s not true. You…and everyone else who this happened to didn’t ask for it. You didn’t ask Kimura to touch you…to force you to give him a part of yourself. You didn’t give yourself to him. It makes me sick to think you believe that.”
“I… I should have been stronger…”
“You were strong enough to tell him no,” Yunho replied. “That should have been all there was but no, he was sick and needed to… overpower you. To push you into something you didn’t want. That’s not lovemaking…that’s not even sex, Joongie-ah. That’s what rape is. It’s the taking of your body to hurt you…to break your mind and heart. It has nothing to do with your body or how beautiful you are. Because you are beautiful, Joongie. You’re even more beautiful because you told that son of a bitch to fuck off and even after everything that he did… you turned around and said…no.”
“I couldn’t stop him, Yun…” Jae bit at his lip, breaking from Yunho’s hands to look away. “I can’t even stop him in my sleep.”
“It will take time,” He confessed. “All of the decent books said it would but that it would be okay if you were willing to try.”
“Try what?” Looking up, Jae’s anger glittered alongside his fear. “What the hell else am I supposed to try to do?”
“Forgive yourself,” Yunho replied. “Let yourself be forgiven and know that you couldn’t stop Kimura if you tried. He maneuvered you into where he needed you to be. You weren’t the first one he’d attacked. I think he drugged your water with something… there are things that make you unable to react… and people like him can probably get it pretty easily. But even then, he used his position as our manager… our protector… to abuse you.”
“I knew better… I’d seen boys…down at Itaewon,” Jae explained, refusing to let go of his guilt. “I knew that he was trying to get me to do something. Not at the beginning…but later when it felt… wrong. I knew, Yunho. I just felt… like I couldn’t stop him.”
“That’s because he knew what he was doing. It’s called grooming, baby. That’s when someone gets you to trust them then they abuse that trust by molesting you.” Taking Jae’s hands, Yunho kissed the other man’s fingertips, looking over his knuckles until Jae looked back. “You are innocent in this, Joongie. He took advantage of your nature and then your body. Then tried to keep you quiet because you weren’t…because you didn’t break down enough for him. I think he was afraid of you, Joongie, because you’d be his downfall… because you were stronger inside than he thought.”
“I don’t feel stronger.” He clutched a pillow to his chest, then smiled when he realized it was Yunho’s battered plush deer. The oversized toy smelled of the man, sharp green teas and musk with a hint of the vanilla soap they shared. He inhaled its scent, holding it in. “I feel like I’m always clinging to you. Like I need you to make me… feel worth something. And sometimes I think about… what it would be like to be anyone else… anyone other than me.”
“That’s normal, Boo,” Yunho replied. “Or I think it is. I started reading when… you would cuddle up against me and then push me away. I needed to understand why. Or at least, tried to figure out why. So, I read. And I tried listening to you but I wasn’t good at it. I’m sorry, Boo that I didn’t… work harder to help you. I failed you there.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?” Rolling over onto his side, Jae hugged the toy tighter, squeezing its elongated body. “I just want to get some sleep and… maybe tomorrow…”
“Maybe tomorrow we can talk some more,” Yunho turned off the light, splashing the room into darkness. The street lamp outside provided a soft amber wash from the window and he touched Jae’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Jae mumbled into the deer’s fur. “But… if it’s okay, I just want you to hold me right now. I just need to feel you right now.”
“Sure, baby,” Yunho murmured. He slid down, tucking his legs up into the back of Jae’s thighs and pulled lightly on the other man’s hips until Jae nested into his curve. “I’m right here, Joongie. I’ll always be right here.”
The phone rang, a sharp trill that jarred Jae from his restless sleep. Dragging himself up, he blinked at the alarm clock but couldn’t find its bright green lights on the stand. Growling, he remembered they’d packed it, thinking they’d need it in Okinawa. Buried someplace in the bottom of their luggage, the unplugged clock was useless as was looking out the window. At some point, Yunho woke up and shut the curtains, probably to block out the eastern rise in case the sun actually chose to show its face.
He struggled to find the phone, answering it then realized it wasn’t open yet. Sliding it apart, he repeated, “Hello?”
He’d have expected to hear Changmin or even one of the Bunny Brothers but certainly not Se7en. Looking at the time on his phone, he wiped at his eyes to try to bring the numbers into focus but they remained a blur. “What do you want? Haven’t you done enough tonight? What time is it?”
“What is with you Dong Bang boys? So concerned about the time.” The man slurred his words, sounding deep into his cups and Jae sighed resigned to the drama unfolding in his life. “I don’t know what time it is. I don’t care. I already told them I couldn’t make it today.”
Muttering to himself, he nearly fell off the bed as he rolled over to give himself some room on the mattress. Yunho snored lightly, stretched out nearly diagonally over the covers and Jae pushed at his lover with his foot. “Move over, pig. And Se7en, I’m hanging up now.”
“No, no…” Se7en murmured. “I wanted to make sure Minnie-ah got home safe.”
“He’s probably asleep. If he came home.” Yunho refused to give him space and the other side of the bed lay nearly empty. If he timed it right, he could slither over the other man, stop for a kiss and then go back to sleep as Yunho woke. It would serve him right to wake up hard and find Jaejoong already passed out.
“I tried calling him. He’s not picking up.” The other man definitely sounded drunk. Possibly even insane to Jae’s ears. “Go check on him for me. See if he’s in his room.”
“Hyung, you need to go to sleep. Or maybe take a shower.”
“I’ve been calling him for hours. I fucking hate this, Joongie-baby. I hate that I’m feeling like this. I want my head back to where it was. I don’t need this kind of shit and here I am, calling after him like some lovesick fangirl that hangs on his every goddamned word.”
“God, don’t let Yunnie hear you call me baby, Go to sleep, hyung.” Jae replied. “I’ll have him call you later.”
“I’m going to keep calling you until you check on him. And if you don’t answer, I’ll head over there and start pounding on the door. And right now, the way I feel, I’m going to puke on the door too.”
Se7en sounded drunk enough and crazy enough to do exactly that. Giving in, Jae pulled himself out of the covers and opened Min’s bedroom. The youngest’s bed sat pristine, its covers crisp and the pillows plumped. Sighing, he looked at the time and found it too early in the morning for Min to have gone out. Frowning, he returned to where he left his phone, hearing Dong-Wook mumbling on the other end.
“Didn’t want to hurt him. Fucker. Son of a bitch.” Se7en was loud, echoing from the cell’s speaker. Yunho lifted his head, staring at the phone glowing on the night stand. Jae shushed him before he could speak, picking the phone up.
“Who’s that? Minnie-ah?” Yunho asked sleepily.
“No,” Jae covered the phone then wondered why he bothered. “It’s Choi Dong-Wook.”
“Hang up.” Yunho mumbled into his pillow, turning over. “Are you still mad at me?”
“A couple of more hours, maybe but just for going over there. Right now, I’m too tired to be mad so you’re in luck.” Jae said. “Se7en, hyung, you need to sleep this off.”
“He left me. Son of a bitch decided that he was just going to take a walk.” Dong-Wook said. “Then my face started hurting, and then my hand started hurting. So I thought I’d just say screw it and drink it off. Now, I’m sitting here sick to my fucking stomach because the little son of a bitch won’t answer his phone and tell me he’s okay.”
“Why does your hand hurt?” Jaejoong asked. Shaking Yunho, he prodded his lover awake. “I thought you said he didn’t hit you?”
“What? Yunho sighed, turning over onto his back. “You can’t be serious! Either you’re mad at me and not talking to me or you’re not mad at me and we’re going to get some sleep.”
“Answer me, Yunnie-ah,” Jae poked at him, wedging the phone between his chin and his shoulder. “Why does Se7en’s hand hurt? Did he hit you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. He didn’t lay a hand on me. Bastard better not have hit Changmin.”
“Choi!” Jae barked into the phone. “Did you hit Changmin?”
“What? No! Why the fuck would I hit Minku? Sorry, Minnie-ah.”
“What does Minku mean?” Jae whispered at Yunho.
“I don’t know,” Yunho complained, covering his head with the pillow. Another poke from Jaejoong and then the singer yanked the pillow away. “You’re asking me? Your Japanese is better than mine. Ask Changmin. He’d know.”
Giving up on Yunho, Jae asked Se7en, “Why does your hand hurt?”
“He probably rubbed it raw jerking himself off.” Yunho muttered. Seeing Jae about to punch him, he rolled out of the way. “What? He’s the one who woke us up. Why are you hitting me?”
“How hard did you punch him?” He tried to follow Se7en’s mutterings but the other man was too far gone to understand. “He sounds like he’s brain damaged.”
“Maybe he’s drunk. His virgin got away.”
“He is drunk. But he’s not calling for that.” Jaejoong poked at Yunho’s chest. “He’s worried about Changmin. And Minnie-ah isn’t home.”
“Joongie, love, hang up.” Yunho moaned, rolling over and grabbing back pillow. Clenching it tight to his head, he fortified his fortress with the deer, balancing its body over his neck like a sentry.
“Se7en,” Jaejoong interrupted Se7en’s rant. “Choi Dong-Wook, listen to me!”
“I’m going to try calling his cell phone again.” Se7en murmured. “And maybe get some thing else to drink.”
“I think that’s the last thing you should do right now.” The singer replied. His headache was back, throbbing along his temple. “God, Yunnie and I didn’t have this kind of drama and we’re the worst ones of the group.”
“Changmin is always competitive.” Yunho murmured. “Probably felt like he had to one-up you in this too.”
Jaejoong debated arguing with the sleepy man but decided it would be easier to inform Yunho he’d lost the fight before it began. The leader grumbled, turning over and made noises about his displeasure but Jaejoong ignored that too. “Be sure you’re dressed, Dong-Wook. I’m coming over.”
“Oh no no no. That son of a bitch Yunho popped me twice because Minku was here. Do you have any fucking idea what he’ll do to me if you come over? What do you want to do to me? Get me killed?”
“He knows I’m coming over. Try not to drink yourself into a stupor. I’ll need you to open the door when I get there.”
“I’ll drive you.” The leader grabbed his lover by the leg, bracing himself for the cold air and even colder floor. “Let me get dressed.”
Shaking his head, Jaejoong pushed Yunho back down on the bed. “I need you to stay here. Wait for Changmin to make sure he’s okay and if he calls, someone should be here to answer the phone. He might call the house phone.”
It was hard to look threatening when he was talking to someone who could bring him to his knees with a hooded glance and a moist pout but Yunho tried just the same. Throwing the pillow back onto his face, he mumbled curses into the linens, knowing he’d lost another argument he hadn’t even had a chance to start.
“I don’t want you over there with Se7en, especially alone.” Yunho grumbled, falling back into pillows that smelled of Jaejoong. “God, you know how much I hate him.”
“Pfah,” Jaejoong scoffed, heading to the master bathroom. “He’s not going to do anything. My boyfriend will come and kick his ass. Besides, you only hate him because he’s exactly like you.
He spent more time searching for bandages in Se7en’s bathroom than he did getting up the elevator but Jaejoong eventually found enough gauze, tape and disinfectant to stock a hospital. A broken glass did some significant damage to Se7en’s palm, leaving slices along his skin. The blood splatters on the floor made it look like a murder scene and Se7en’s battered, bruised face didn’t help matters. If anything, it made the man appear roguish.
“Do you really love Changmin?” Jae asked as he washed the cuts out with saline. He tried being gentle but shards were caught under Se7en’s skin.
“You do use that pretty face to just worm your way into things, don’t you?” Se7en asked, charmed by the shy, sweet smile Jaejoong had on his face. He could see how Yunho was smitten by the exotic androgynous beauty. Up close, Jaejoong could take a man’s… or woman’s… breathe away.
Dong-Wook thought on the question, seriously turning it over as he touched on his memories of the awkward, gangly young man who he’d first seen. The young man who in his eyes, blossomed to a thoughtful philosopher with a wicked, sardonic sense of humour and an even nastier, prettier mouth. “Yeah, I love him. I wanted to be in love with him because I thought; here’s my friend. Changmin can make me laugh and show me things that I’ve already seen thousands of times before and until he pointed them out to me, it meant nothing.”
Jaejoong nodded, wrapping up the hand as they chatted. He cleaned up the bandages, tucking one corner around to tie into a bow. “Cover it when you shower and if starts bleeding again, then you’re going to need stitches.”
“What? You can’t do that too?” Se7en teased.
“No, I cook. I don’t sew.” Jae wandered into the kitchen, looking around until he found a coffee maker. “Tell me you have coffee beans.”
“Somewhere,” He mumbled from the couch. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to make you some coffee so you’ll be sober when Min comes over.” Jae opened one cabinet and stared at its empty shelves. A lone packet of mayonnaise sat forlornly against the cabinet’s side, its end gelled yellow from age. The next cabinet was even more desolate. The freezer finally yielded bags of ground beans, their ends folded over and affixed with ties. Choosing a dark blend, Jaejoong measured out enough to make ten cups into the filter and poured half of the amount of water needed. The coffee would brew strong, hopefully strong enough to kick the whiskey out of Se7en’s system.
The drunk singer stumbled back into the kitchen counter, nearly upending the bottle of shoyu Min left on the counter. Catching the glass container, he bobbled it, nearly spilling the soy sauce over the tiles. Jaejoong swiftly caught the bottle before it could topple and ordered Se7en back to the couch.
“I tried,” Se7en mumbled, “But I had to go pee. And now, I don’t think I can zip my pants up.”
“God help me.” Rolling his eyes, Jae came around the counter and pushed Dong-Wook back. “If you tell anyone I did this, I’ll kill you.”
“I think you doing this is going to kill me,” He replied, closing his eyes when Jae fumbled for the zipper of his jeans.
“Dong-Wook,” Jae muttered, cursing the man roundly. “Your jeans have buttons.”
“Oh,” He looked down, his focus blurring then snapping into focus. The silver discs appeared out of the blue, emerging from the slit in the denim. “I don’t think I can zip those either.”
“”Weren’t you wearing sweats before?” Jae left Se7en in the kitchen, retracing the other man’s steps through the apartment.
The most likely place for clothes was the bedroom and Jaejoong headed to what looked like the best possible door, stopping when he reached the threshold. The bed filled the large room, seeming to stretch from one end to the next. If anything, it was larger than the one the management company provided for he and Yunho and Jaejoong knew from experience, it fit the five of them comfortably.
Bed linens lay rumpled, an intimate peek into the men who’d slept there. A book lay open on the nightstand, face down until the pages were bent back. Jaejoong walked over and turned the book over, sliding a piece of paper between the pages. Setting the book back, he smoothed the cover down before turning around to find Se7en staring at him from the doorway. Like the sad package of mayo in his cupboard, the Korean leaned into the frame, slumping over dejectedly.
“That’s Min’s book,” He said softly. “You should probably take it back with you.”
“Nope, he’ll be back for it,” Jae replied. “Change your jeans back to the sweats. Why did you change out of them to begin with?”
“Because he likes them,” Se7en said, running his hands over the threadbare thighs of the worn denim. “They’re his favourite jeans. He liked how I looked in them. I wanted… to look good for him.”
“Well, change back,” The other man said as he slid past Se7en. “And come back into the living room. I’ll get you some coffee and we can talk.”
The coffee was hot and thick with evaporated milk but the white liquid barely lightened the pour. Jaejoong spooned a hefty amount of sugar into the coffee, carrying two mugs over to where Se7en lay on the couch. From the look on his face, the alcohol was beginning to burn through his head, leaving a headache in its wake.
“Here,” Jae said, passing a cup to the other man. “Get some of this into you.”
“God, what did you make this from?” Se7en nearly spit out his first sip. “Dog piss?”
“Drink it. It’ll clear your head.”
“My head?” Se7en gasped, taking another sip. “This is going to make sure I never get Changmin pregnant. Shit, forget I said that.”
“Ke ke.” Jae threw his head back, his robust laughter turning his cold pretty face warm. “Minnie-ah says that all the time.”
“Yeah, he does,” He said, nodding. “I must have picked it up from him.”
“Probably,” Jaejoong said, stifling his yawn. The day was wearing him down but he wasn’t going to head back until he was sure Se7en wouldn’t damage himself. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“I’m going to wait until I hear from him,” He said, shrugging helplessly. “Then I’ll beg him to come back to me or tell him he pissed me off then kiss him senseless.”
“Huh,” Jae murmured, sipping at his coffee. “Is that what you want?”
“To kiss him senseless?” Se7en looked up surprised. “Yeah, that and a few other things.”
“Maybe you should,” The singer replied, setting his half-drunk coffee down on the table. “More importantly, you should tell him that he needs to treat you better. Changmin needs to respect you… as a man and as a lover. Take it from me. Don’t get into a relationship with a headstrong man unless you’re on equal footing. Or you’ll spend the next couple of years trying to figure out a way to be on top once in a while…and I don’t mean sitting on him.”