wedspawn ♥ (wedspawn) wrote,
wedspawn ♥
wedspawn

On The Red Couch (SMM Universe) YunJae: Chapter Thirty-Two (LEMON)


Title: On The Red Couch ♥
Pairing: YunJae (with some YooSu and Min7en)
Chapter: Thirty-Two
Chapter Rating: NC-17 (LEMON)
Genre: Slash/Relationship
Author: wedspawn

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.

“What the hell?” Yoochun snapped, turning to look at his best friend. “You knew all along and you didn’t tell me? Fuuuuck.”

The young men lay on the bed in the hyungs’ room, hiding from the dreary rain. Time passed slowly behind the grey veil and neither singer wanted to go out, choosing to spend the evening curled up around pillows and talking. Several tall pillar candles provided enough light to see by, the white columns lined up on the long dresser. With Yunho’s deer plushie against his belly, Jaejoong made a face at his best friend, curling his lip on one side.

“I couldn’t. Min didn’t know I knew.” Jae ran his palm over his eyes, cutting his yawn. “It’s too complicated. I am glad Yunho knows. Now I don’t have to hide it from him any more.”

“How’s Minnie-ah?” Yoochun turned over, snuggling the blankets up around his shoulders. They covered his temple, hooding his eyes and face. The burgundy linens turned his golden skin pale, the soft light catching on his round cheeks. “Is he doing okay?”

“No. Se7en kicked him out,” Jae groaned, stretching his long body and cracking his back into place. The seemingly endless dance routines beat him up and his feet ached from being pounded into hard floors. “He told Changmin not to come back unless he called him.”

“Hoooo, he must be pissed,” The other man whistled.

“Min or Se7en?”

“Minnie-ah,” Yoochun replied. “I don’t know Choi Dong-Wook well enough to say if he’s pissed off but Min hates being ignored. He’d rather be yelled at than ignored.”

“I know,” Jaejoong nodded, studying the edge of his thumbnail.

“And that’s what you told Dong-Wook, isn’t it?” Chun peeked under Jae’s face, catching the other man’s eye. “Shit, does Min know you meddled?”

“No!” He snorted. “And I didn’t meddle. He was angry enough on his own. I didn’t have to do anything. Se7en kicked him out on his own. I promise.”

“I don’t believe you. You can make people do things with a couple of words and that stupid smile of yours. It makes me puke.”

“I do not!” Jae slapped Chun hard on the shoulder, leaving an imprint of his fingers on the man’s arm. The sting faded nearly immediately but not before Yoochun could wail indignantly. “Stop that. I barely touched you.”

“What are you yelling about now, Chunnie?” Yunho leaned against the door, regarding the pair lying across his bed. Dressed only in loose pants and faded tanks, both Jaejoong and Yoochun were draped over each other, arms tangled together and ankles crossed. With the cover across his head, Yoochun looked like a strayed monk, either debating debauchery or coming to face the wicked prettiness of the man laying on top of him.

Waving Bambi’s leg at Yunho, Jae grinned. “Hi! We were just talking about you.”

“No, you were probably talking about Changmin,” Yunho crawled on his knees across the bed, lying behind Jaejoong. He nudged the man with his hip, wordlessly telling him to roll over onto his side. When Jae moved, he scooted closer, fitting against his rear. A shimmy of Jae’s back seated the young man into Yunho and the leader slid his arm around Jae’s waist, his fingertips playing with the gold ring in his navel.

“Okay, I know that look on his face.” Yoochun wrinkled his nose and pulled the blankets from his head. “I’m out.”

“You don’t have to go,” Jae said, turning his head slightly to look at Yunho. “Does he?”

“Well… if he does…” Yunho frowned as his pocket vibrated. He dug his phone out of his jeans, moving his knuckles up into his pocket to nudge Jae’s rear. The singer gave him lover a wicked grin, shaking his head in mock disgust. “Or maybe in a little bit. I’ll get rid of whoever this is.”

Yoochun rolled over and slid off the edge of the bed as Yunho flipped his phone open, patting his best friend on the leg. “I’ll talk to you later. Remember, we’re supposed to try that seafood place tonight for dinner. Yunho promised to pay for crab.”

“Nuh-uh!” Yunho slapped at Yoochun’s ass, tagging him as he passed. “Get out of here.”

“Answer your phone,” Yoochun stuck his tongue out at his leader, skipping out of reach. “And it’s your turn to pay.”

“Hello,” Laughter lifted Yunho’s tone, a bright sparkling rumble. Stroking his lover’s belly, he listened to the echo coming from the other party. There were street sounds, a honk of a horn and the rush of traffic but other than indistinct babble of people talking, he couldn’t hear anyone on the line. Speaking louder, he repeated his greeting. “Hello?”

“Yunho.” The man’s speech was rough, a harsh echo of Yunho’s own voice. “Do you have time to speak?”

“Yes,” He sat up, nearly flipping Jae over onto his stomach in his haste to straighten up. The other man yelped, flailing to catch himself when he slid to the edge of the bed. Yunho made a grab for his lover, snagging Jae’s pants. “I’m here, Father.”

Father? Jaejoong mouthed. He extracted himself from Yunho’s hand, motioning first to his chest then to the door, asking the other man if he wanted Jae to leave. Yunho shook his head, frowning and held his hand out to Jaejoong, hooking his fingers through his lover’s for support.

Stay. Yunnie pointed at the bed, patting the space next to him. Jaejoong slithered closer, sliding into the man’s embrace as Yunho lifted his arm. Cradling the slender singer, he took a deep breath to compose himself and said in a calm, steady voice, “I have time, Father. What is it you need?”

#

“Ah, you were abandoned by your soulmate and have come looking for me?” Junsu snorted, swerving his shoulders to the right in an attempt to get around a taxi cab.

On the television screen, his cherry red sports car hit a curb, flying over a squat blue mailbox and landing on its roof. Large yellow kanji flashed a too familiar mocking Game Over across the screen, scrolling up to show the game’s high scores. Hyung Min dominated the top ten, the lower fifteen scattered between the other three members. Junsu’s name flashed once, far below the top then the game cycled back to the beginning, offering to begin another round.

“Oh, I hate this game.” He gnashed his teeth, hitting the pause button. Grabbing the other controller, he held it out to his lover. “Do you want to play? At least give me a fighting chance to get to the top twenty?”

“You’re only playing it because Minnie-ah is good at it.” Yoochun said, stepping over the corner of the coffee table and sitting on the couch. “Hell, even Joongie-ah is better at it than you are and he sucks at video games.”

“Don’t remind me,” Junsu growled, hitting the start button after he plugged in the second controller. “He’s just lucky. Really, I should be scoring higher. I’m faster than he is.”

“Yeah but you’ve never been in a car with him driving. I think they used him to base this game on,” The baritone laughed. “Do you still want the red car?”

“Yeah,” Junsu nodded. “I’ve been having luck with it. Last game, I got seven blocks with it. The yellow one is no good. The police see it too quickly and pull me over.”

Yoochun watched Junsu’s face as he plowed his car into the back of the tenor’s vehicle. The singer gunned his engine, running over a trash can on the sidewalk to get away from the car trailing him. A truck careened in front of Junsu’s car, cutting him off and Yoochun swerved to get in front, slowing down then slamming on his brakes. Unable to avoid the other man’s avatar, Junsu’s car crashed into Yoochun’s back end.

“Hey!” He shouted, keeping his eyes on the screen as he tried to slap Yoochun. Missing the first two times, he connected with a half-hearted tap on Yoochun’s thigh. “Why’d you do that? You’re in my way!”

“Really?” Yoochun grinned, avoiding the other man’s hand. He captured Junsu’s wrist, dropping down and sucking at the singer’s wrist. “Mwah! Vaaaampire!”

“Hey! Teeth! Teeth!” Junsu lost control again, his car catching its wheel on a wheelbarrow. Flipping over, the sports car went end over end, grinding into the computer generated asphalt in a smoking mess. “Aish! Chuuuunie! Look what you made me do!”

“Yep!” He grinned at the smaller man. “What are you going to do about it?”

He was prepared for the man to hit him or even pout but Junsu had other plans. Lunging at his lover, Junsu toppled Yoochun back on the couch, reaching his hands under Yoochun’s shirt until he found the tips of the man’s sensitive nipples. Pinching the nubs between his fingers, he held on tightly, twisting slightly as Yoochun howled and struggled to get away.

“Ouch! Ow! Let go!” Chunnie screamed, a loud girly wail echoing in the living room. “No, come on! No! Ouch!”

“You’re going to do that again?” Junsu squeezed, nicking the flat of Chunnie’s nipple with his nails. “Huh? Again?”

“No! Okay! Let go!” Yoochun pulled away when Susu released his chest. Rubbing at his nipples with the flats of his hands, he made fish lips at Junsu as the young man crowed with victory at Yoochun’s surrender. “I lied! Lied!”

“Hah! You are mine! I won!” Grabbing Yoochun’s shoulders, Junsu pushed him back.

They fell, puffing accent pillows into the air. A cushion burst, cotton batting spilling out from under Yoochun’s long legs and Junsu spit out a mouthful of the fluffy white fibre. It drifted, caught on the breeze from the patio and landed on the coffee table, skittering over the glass then falling on the floor.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” Junsu murmured. Yoochun’s mouth caught his, straying from the corners and down to his jaw and the tenor tilted his head back, giving his lover space to roam over his throat. The man traced Junsu’s collarbone, following the trace of skin down to the hollow under his apple. A nip of his teeth made Junsu clench his fists into Yoochun’s shirt, the man’s already plumped nipples tightening further when the fabric rubbed against them.

“Come on, babe,” Chunnie said, standing up quickly. He grabbed Junsu by the waistband of his jeans, hoisting the lighter man up. Junsu’s bare toes caught on the floor and he stood, reaching for the other man’s hips. Hooking his fingers into a loop on Chunnie’s drawstrings, he nearly pulled them down his legs. Tsking his lover, Junsu tugged them back up, tightening the loop.

“You’re too skinny.”

“Now you sound like Yunho talking to his Boo,” Yoochun grumbled. “I don’t want to hear anything like them. Just you and me.”

They were three steps into the hall when Changmin came out of his room, the younger man’s hands full of empty glasses he’d found in his room. Narrowly avoiding the couple, he snarled as they passed, voicing his disgust. when Yoochun pushed Junsu against the wall and held his wrists firm over his head. Lowering his mouth, he took Junsu’s lips, teasing and licking with the tip of his tongue until Junsu opened his mouth and let him in.

“Not the hallway. Not the couch. Room! Go! Down the hall!” Min muttered, a pair of chopsticks nearly escaping from a mug as he turned to avoid Yoochun’s tangle of legs. Ignoring the pair, he headed into the kitchen, trying to tell his broken heart that the pain he felt was an upset stomach and not the anguish of missing Dong-Wook.

Changmin might not have even existed as far as the men were concerned. After he got a full taste of his lover’s sweetness, Yoochun’s world stopped being anything beyond Junsu’s mouth and lithe body.

Pushing Junsu along the wall, Yoochun shoved open the door to their room, their haven softly lit by the early evening dusk and chilled from the wide open windows. Junsu shivered as Yoochun stripped off his shirt. A button popped, hitting something hard before bouncing over the floor. It rolled, the thin threading sound of plastic on wood getting quieter as the disc spun then fell flat.

“This is one of Jaejoong’s shirts, I think,” Junsu whispered, losing his train of thought as Yoochun explored the dip of skin under his throat. “Or maybe…”

“I don’t care, Susu,” He replied, taking a mouthful of the man’s flesh into his mouth and biting down hard enough to make Junsu gasp. “I don’t care if I rip it into shreds and use them to tie you to the bed. I just need it off of you.”

There was rarely time for passion. Their lives were scheduled and regimented, each second controlled and measured until Yoochun was sure he would meet himself coming out of the door when he should be heading in. Some nights, there was barely enough energy for a soft kiss before sleep claimed them and not enough time to do more than eat quickly and touch hands before they were off again. Days sometimes went by when Yoochun would swear he never saw Junsu’s caramel honey eyes, the singer leaving before he did or having fallen asleep by the time Yoochun got to drag himself home.

What few hours they had were normally spent with the others, relaxing and complaining about their schedule or their inability to master a song or dance. Their lives centred around being a group, each member a supporting pillar for a larger, bigger thing none of them could describe. Being together meant being greater than just themselves and even in times when they weren’t on stage, in interviews or rehearsing, their focus was on one another and how to succeed in a world that seemed determined to tear them down with every step they took forward.

With Jaejoong and Yunho occupied with one another and Changmin mourning the could-have-been of his ill-fated relationship, Yoochun found himself wondering why he and Junsu were smashing cars along a street made of pixels and light and not reaching for stars they knew were hidden within themselves.

“God, I love having you here with me,” Yoochun murmured, clasping Junsu’s face in his palms. The other man’s eyes were dark, his pupils wide with lust and excitement.

“I’m here all the time,” Junsu laughed, the silver peal of joy shaded crimson with want. The sleek sensual creature hidden within the bubbly young man emerged, a velvet smooth hedonist with a taste for Yoochun’s body. His lover’s drawstrings pants were easily removed, a swift tug on the fabric and Yoochun was deliciously bare to Junsu’s gaze.

“No, I think you’re only here when I close my eyes and dream,” He sighed, closing their kiss.

The bed was soft beneath them, giving way to arms and legs wrapped around lithe torsos and pale skin. Yoochun felt the press of the mattress under his back and sighed, hooking his fingers around Junsu’s waist to pull him down. Balancing on his knees, the tenor worked his jeans loose, sliding free of the confining denim and releasing his hardened sex. It danced, thickening with each moment Yoochun spent stroking at the silken head, growing longer in a shy burst of need.

Naked except for the leather thong strung with a bead around his neck, the American-raised Korean stared up at the man straddling his hips, lifting his fingers to touch Junsu’s angelic face.

“I sometimes want to wake you up when I come home,” He whispered, sliding his thumb into the wet of Junsu’s mouth. The man’s pout parted and Junsu sucked him in, wrapping his tongue around the tip to soak it. “I want to wake you up just so I can hear you say my name… when you’re sleepy and breathless so I can imagine I was inside of you, loving you until our bodies were slick with sweat and you’re shivering, unable to take any more.”
Pushing his thumb further in, Yoochun let his lover moisten his finger then freed himself, using his other hand to wrap into Junsu’s thick hair and pulled him down. Junsu’s tongue rolled and tasted, darting over Yoochun’s mouth then stilled when the other man used his own spit to dampen his entrance, pressing against the edge tentatively, teasing Junsu until he squirmed around Yoochun’s forearm.

“Can I, baby?” Yoochun swirled the pad of his thumb around the kiss of skin.

They were careful, always being responsive to each other’s needs and wants. Neither paid attention to any stigma inherited from a position on a bed, each enough of a balance between sensitive and masculine to be aggressive and caring. Yoochun’s romantic nature led him to ask, delving into his lover’s desires with a simple question. If Junsu needed anything other than the other man buried deep inside of him, he would have acquiesced. Desire and pleasure were all Yoochun needed, provided the other man was his seraphim-souled Junsu.

“Please,” He whispered, raising himself up with his thighs until he balanced on his knees. Junsu cast his head back, waiting for the man’s touch to intrude then with a gentle push, Yoochun was inside of him, stretching him slowly with a turn of his thumb.

Panting, Junsu leaned forward, his hips moving up and down in a small rocking motion. With his palms flat on the bed next to Yoochun’s shoulders, he mewled and keened, unable to get more than a bit of Yoochun’s digit inside of him. Fumbling for one of the small break-open packets on their end table, Junsu cracked its neck, popping the opening and reaching with his fingers to coat his fingers in the gel.

“Let me…” He moaned, begging Yoochun to stop so he could help. “I need you, Chunnie. I can’t wait.”

Yoochun leaned forward to catch at Junsu’s full cheeks, holding them apart so the singer could delve his fingers into his depths. The baritone’s sex twitched and sang with want as he watched his lover open himself up, stretching and scissoring his body apart. Junsu’s mouth lay parted, his breath coming in fast pants as he stroked into his passage, his fingers not quite long enough to touch the hot need buried there. His index finger barely brushed on the nodule and he jumped, shivering when Yoochun put his hands on his hips.

“Baby, I’ve got to have you soon,” Chunnie locked eyes with Junsu, gritting his teeth as he gouged deep into his control, holding back from flipping Junsu over and taking him. “God, you are so sexy.”

Using the rest of the gel, Junsu wrapped his slick fingers around Yoochun’s shaft, moving over its head until it glistened with seed and lubricant. Guiding the man forward, he slid down, slowly enveloping the tip with the tightness of his body. They stayed there, their bodies breathing in tandem, hard heaving gulps of air as the air filled with the musk of their sex.

“Take it slow, baby,” Yoochun murmured, his hands splayed over Junsu’s thighs, feeling the power in the young man’s muscles. “Take me in slow.”

Junsu took his lover at his word, easing onto the hard pierce by rocking his hips. Falling in inches onto Yoochun’s sex, he teased the man’s need by pulling back up with small jerks until Yoochun growled deep in his throat.

“Now, Susu…” Yoochun pushed his lover down, closing his thumbs over the jut of Junsu’s hipbones and canted the singer back until he filled the man’s passage.

The heat swallowed him, a tight sucking feel of soft satin and velvet. The swirl of Junsu’s body gave and took Yoochun, the Korean’s sex working up into Junsu with each thrust of the singer’s hips. The slow pace quickened, their bodies falling into a beating rhythm filled with their murmuring pleas and soft moans. Unable to feel Junsu fully around him, Yoochun pulled Junsu onto his side, hooking one thigh over his arm and pushed in, burying himself up the hilt of his body.

Crying out, Junsu twisted under Yoochun’s hands, his fingers closing over his lover’s wrists as the man pounded each thrust home. Rocking his hips steadily faster until he touched the spark hidden in Junsu’s warm passage, Yoochun stretched up, covering his lover’s mouth with a fierce kiss. He inhaled Junsu’s screaming moans, stroking long and hard with each panting gasp from Junsu’s lips.

Trapping the tenor’s sex between their legs, Yoochun rubbed and twisted over the man’s length as he moved, bringing Junsu’s control to its brittle edge. Rubbing his thumb over his own tongue, Yoochun wetted his finger and spread the pout of Junsu’s sex open, lightly scraping at the too sensitive skin. He kept each stroke in time with the thrusts of his hips, drawing Junsu apart from within. A tightening of his lover around him warned Yoochun of Junsu’s impending release and he let the young man fall into the nearly painful grip of his orgasm, the ripple of breathless agonizing pleasure working up from Junsu’s sac. Yoochun opened his palm, catching the spill as Junsu shuddered and clenched, gasping for air when his release broke him open.

Yoochun followed, unable to hold back any longer when Junsu’s body spiraled in around his sex. He felt it first flush his face, his cheeks burning hot then the shiver of desire closing his throat came next, a sure sign of the tingle beginning along his belly. Roiling, his seed coiled in its nest then burst forward, filling Junsu in long streams of milky threads. Plunging into the other man, Yoochun slowed his motions to a soft rocking, leaving himself mostly embedded deep in the man he loved while Junsu intimately held him within.

They lay there, shifting slightly as Yoochun slid away, cradling one another as they fought to find their voices. A peek of the moon slid around a cloud, the thin crescent reminding Yoochun of the sticky mess on his fingers. Smiling, he licked Junsu’s seed from his hand, savouring the salty citrus taste of his lover on his own skin. Swallowing the mingle of his spit and Junsu’s spill, Yoochun purred, snuggling down into the sheets.

“I love you, you know,” Junsu whispered, faint in the rush of the soft rain still pouring down from the night sky. “I love having you with me, Chunnie-ah. I love having you in me.”

“Same here, babe,” Yoochun smiled, looking over his shoulder at his lover lying next to him. They lay against one another, elbow to elbow and knee to knee as their lethargy took away the frantic pounding of their heartbeats and the blood began to flow back into their brains. “This is the best part, you know.”

“What?” Junsu was too worn out to move, unable to do more than weave his fingers into Yoochun’s, joining with the man in the one way he was able to at the moment. “What’s your favourite part?”

“Lying here. Smelling of you,” Yoochun whispered, his voice soft with affection. “For me, the best part is being here, listening to you breathe. Because God, Susu-ah, I just love hearing you breathe.”
Tags: nc-17, otrc 32, yunjae
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