There is small lemon...more of a kumquat really... in the third part of this section.
Rating: Overall NC-17. This section HAS some sexual content.
Juk and Jaeho stirred by: ranalore.
Summary: The beginning of a shifting relationship. Hot Korean boys. Sex. Dancing and some angry words. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily in each section.
One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six;Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen; Sixteen; Seventeen; Eighteen; Nineteen; Twenty; Twenty-One
“He wants to tell his parents.” Jaejoong’s shattered words brought Yoochun to a stop, his hands dripping with soap suds over the sink.
Breakfast had been a hasty meal, gulped down in seconds and with a glut of dishes left over, a soaking in the sink all the time the five singers could devote to cleaning up before the long day broke over them. A round of dance practice followed by vocal lessons soon turned into a hurried dash to a radio station, lunch eaten nearly late enough to be an early dinner. Changmin carted his schoolbooks along, working on problems during breaks in the interview, diligently working out a calculus solution on scraps of paper borrowed from the DJ’s notebook. Coming home, none of them were hungry enough for a full dinner, Junsu and Yunho more interested in the soccer match on television than filling their bellies. Min retreated to the quiet of the music room, his mind on cracking the bundle of math he struggled with.
Yoochun and Jaejoong offered to clean the kitchen, more of a formality of a suggestion since the others left the eating area in a rush to do other things. Yunho came back, a swift retreat from the living room, a visit long enough to kiss Jaejoong on the side of the mouth and thank him for washing up. Yoochun stood there, shaking his head at being left with the chores.
“He…is insane.” Yoochun began, cutting his words off with a snap of his lips. “Let’s take a walk when we’re done. It will be better if we… talked in private.”
“I don’t think it would matter much.” Jae winced at the screams of exultation coming from the living room. “They aren’t paying attention to anything outside of that television screen. But it would be nice to get out of the house. We can pretend we’re real people for a little while. And if we’re lucky, we can freeze our legs off and not have to do dance practice tomorrow”
The bitter cold outside rose from the sidewalks, Jaejoong tugging Yunho’s parka over his arms. The scent of the other man clung to the down weave, cradling Jae in a green tea cloud of comfort. Yoochun had looked inside of the closet, staring at the collections of coats there before finally grabbing his own, a battered soft blue fleece his mother sent him a while back. Spring retreated from under winter’s final push, the crackling ice floes on the nearby river now firm and solid once again.
“Do you want some tea?” Yoochun shivered, wishing he’d grabbed a scarf when they stepped outside of the building, the brace of wind cutting into his skin. “It’s freezing out here”
“We could go back and just talk in your room. It’s warmer in there. Hell would be warmer than out here, really.” Jaejoong suggested, rubbing at his arms.
“No, one of them would just get curious and try to drag us out to watch the game.” Micky shook his head, an emphatic negative. “I’d rather just go get some tea and sit in the shop. It’ll be quiet in there.”
The tea shop staff was long used to the group members wandering in, often taking the back part of the room to sit and talk, a quiet spot in their turbulent days. The deep shelves lining the small shop’s walls were filled with teapots and short tumblers, a variety of loose-leaf teas stacked tight in enormous glass jars by the counter. A symphony of smells filled the singers’ senses as they walked in, the heat of the shop a welcome warmth to contrast the icy bite from outside.
Tiny silk paintings hung on the spare wall space throughout the shop, delicate brush art done by the shop owner’s wife. The stout man behind the counter hailed Jaejoong and Yoochun with a robust greeting, nodding his head towards the back niche, a secluded corner of the shop that afforded a greater privacy to prying eyes and ears. Micky nodded a polite hello, thankful for the space. Jaejoong continued on, shy against the attention of the owner and the girls behind the counter.
“Can I get a pot of sangangcha, please?” Yoochun peered at the selection of leaves, pointing out the blend he preferred. “Hyung prefers hongcha, if you have a good dark blend.”
“Something sweet to eat?” A pear-shaped girl asked, her face beatific at the sight of Yoochun’s wide grin. “Sugar or honey for the tea?”
“Honey for me, thank you.” The singer nodded a thank you. “For the hongcha, nothing. Joongie-ah doesn’t like things too sweet. If you have a moon cake or two, that would be nice. Anything chocolate will do for me.”
Yoochun waited until the tea came, carrying the tray back to the table himself. The pungent aroma of the teas tickled his stomach, a fat piece of chocolate cake sharing a place next to a pair of soft-crust red bean filled moon cakes. Stepping into the single niche, Micky slid the tray carefully onto a low table, sliding onto the battered second hand couch against the wall. Its over-soft pillows made up for its height, both singers having to stretch their legs out if they wanted room. Jaejoong pulled his up, sitting cross-legged on the cushions, thanking Yoochun as the young man handed him a mug, poured nearly to the brim with the strong black tea.
Sipping at his own blend, Yoochun watched the busy interior of the shop a few feet away, the seclusion made more intimate by the lack of tables and chairs nearby. This close to after dinner, most of the patrons were stopping only for a cup to take with them, a bracing heat to cuddle in their hands on the walk home. A couple of college students sat near the front of the shop, one eye on the road to watch for a bus coming down the street. For the most part, they would have the interior to themselves this evening, a welcome respite from being surrounded by hordes of people.
“Thank you for… convincing Yunho the other day. I’ve been wanting to say that… to tell you that.” Micky bowed his head in deep gratitude, a blush forming over his features. The wet dapple of tears threatened his eyes, a pang of regret for causing his friend pain. “But it… this isn’t fair to you and Yunnie-ah. You should have privacy.”
“We will be fine.” Jaejoong looked up from his contemplation of the floating tea leaves in his cup, their swirling patterns a divination of sorts. “Yunnie and I are… working on things. We will move slowly into our relationship. Changmin does allow us to… be more careful.”
“Still…” Yoochun argued. “I feel bad. We should have offered to switch.”
“Can we pretend that we’ve argued about this and I’ve won?” Jaejoong’s stomach growled at the presence of the moon cakes, one of the few treats he enjoyed. “I am more stubborn that you are and we both know that I will get my way. It’s useless to even try to beat me on this. If you like, we can say that I harangued you until you cried and then you capitulated because my sheer logic overwhelmed you.”
“Your stubbornness could have overwhelmed me.” Yoochun laughed at the prospect, his heart lightening. “Your logic would just have me confused.”
“There, it’s settled.” Jae grinned, an irrepressible joy at the smile on his friend’s face. “Besides, we will have to see if there is a Yunho and I after he talks with his parents.”
“Aish. I can’t believe he is going to…talk with them. It could ruin things between them. But I feel he will stand by you and they will have to come around to it.” The other singer leaned back on the couch, pulling his legs up to wrap them around his friend’s. They sat there companionably, Micky’s feet resting on either side of Jaejoong’s hips, both men sipping carefully at the hot teas. “He is too honest with his feelings. I know you didn’t want him to say anything to them.”
“I feel like a criminal asking him to lie.” Jaejoong admitted, picking up a moon cake. Breaking off an end, he held the pastry carefully, guiding it into his open mouth. Sucking at the red bean paste on his fingers, Jae spoke around his hand, his sensual lips nearly obscene with a taint of sex. Chewing, he wiped his hand on a napkin, not hearing the forlorn sigh of the sales girl at the far counter. “Yunho just wants to tell them that he is…with me. He says he needs to. As much as he needs me, he needs to have things clear between him and his parents.”
“Will it cause trouble?” Micky asked. He’d wanted the chocolate cake but the overly sweet treat now sat heavily on his plate, a troublesome mass of sugar that threatened to curdle his belly if he swallowed anything around the drama in his thoughts. “I don’t know the Jungs that well.”
“Neither do I.” Jae rested his head back, looking over at his friend. “And how will he explain that he went from being furious with me to… bedding me?”
“You’ve already…” Yoochun looked over to the rest of the shop, finding no one near enough to hear. “When?”
“Not everything. Not.. that.” The other singer pressed at the redness in his face, a duck of his head hiding the shyness there. “I…it worries me but my friend Scarlet told me… how to…do certain things. We are moving towards that slowly. I don’t want him to be impatient but Yunnie-ah tells me that he prefers to…wait. He wants to make sure that I’m ready for him.”
“Ah…” The taller singer whistled under his breath, a low melodic wonder. “Was it nice being with him, so far? What did you do?”
“I can’t tell you about… Yunho.” Jae’s head jerked up, the black fringe around his face curving down over his high cheekbones. “That would be… wrong. How could you look at him then?”
“True.” Yoochun agreed. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his respect for the leader of their group but his curiosity about what happened was coloured by the immense need he had for the young man he shared his room with. Jaejoong cocked his head, staring at his friend before finally smiling widely.
“I have an idea though.” Jae leaned forward, whispering hot in the space between them. The sensual flirtatiousness hidden behind the bashful mask Jaejoong wore peeked out, a tantalizing imp that often few the others to him. “I can tell you everything that Scarlet told me. And unlike Changmin, you should probably take notes…just in case.”
“Min is a dictator. A bossy, pig-headed dictator.” Junsu grunted, sweat pouring down to the small of his back, his shirt soaked nearly wet from the efforts of moving a dresser. Yunho wasn’t in much better shape, a bruise forming on his shin from where a chair seat bashed into the flesh below his knee. Muttering darkly, just enough so the youngest member of the group couldn’t hear him, Su wrestled with the keyboard stand, long trails of wiring snaking out behind him in a medusa coil.
Changmin ignored their complaints, caustically jibing at his elders until they moved things around to his satisfaction. Yunho stopped in the doorway, his arms piled high with a final load of bedding. A hamster shaped pillow teetered at the top, its smiling face bobbing and creased from one of Yunho’s fingers across its cheek. The leader tossed the linens down on the bed, looking about in a worried satisfaction at nearly being done with Changmin’s stern orders.
“This room has no window.” Yunho finally complained. “How are you going to sleep in a room that has no window?”
“That means that I won’t freeze to death when one of you opens the window in the dead of winter.” Changmin replied calmly, placing more books on the shelves he’d brought in from the other bedroom. “Even better, the door closes and I can study in peace without having someone come in and wanting to sleep. I should have thought about this months ago. No, I had to wait until you finally saw the love in Jaejoong’s heart and then, my brain starts to make sense. You would have thought it was me that was blind.”
The music room had been emptied of most of its contents, a few items remaining where there was space. The sound boards Changmin shared with Junsu stood at the far side, against the shared wall with the bathroom. Su and Min mostly worked on music together, sharing a love for more electronics than actual construction of songs. Their combined equipment took up one whole wall, the remainder of the room filled with Changmin’s belongings…including the full sized bed he slept on.
The smaller things would have to wait to be organized, Changmin nodded to himself, pulling the covers onto the bed. His schoolbooks were already piled high on the desk that remained in the room, his treasured laptop plugged into the wall for recharging. In the other room, the equipment Yoochun shared with the lead singer and Yunho remained to be hooked up, wires and leads pushed back behind tables and a desk.
“It makes more sense for me to sleep here. Besides, there will be less time where the instruments and computers are shared than me living in the bedroom.” Min pointed out, wrinkling his nose at the dust on his end table. “This way, I get my own room…and you get privacy.”
“You mean you don’t run the risk of walking into your own bedroom and learning more about sex than what your mother told you.” Junsu teased, leaning against the door frame. He ignored the outraged look on Yunho’s face, the tired in his muscles outweighing any fear he might have of the leader’s retribution.
“Junsu, please. My mother was very thorough.” Changmin reproached the other singer with a beseeching look. “Did you two move the beds together?”
“No, little boss.” Yunho sighed, rubbing at his face with weary hands.
“We better do that before Jaejoong and Yoochun get home.” Junsu turned on his heel, heading back to the larger of the bedrooms, most of the disarray straightened up under Changmin’s discerning eye. “Or Minnie will make us go to bed without any dessert.”
Changmin sat down on his bed, thankful the other two had left for a moment. The worry he felt about the elder members had eased, especially now that the room situation had been straightened out. When he’d been in the shower that evening, he pondered how they would solve the tightness of their quarters before he realized that the solution literally had been behind him.
Leaving the bathroom, the soccer game loud through the apartment, Changmin stood at the doorway of the music room and mentally plotted out what could be removed to make himself space to live there. Leaving in the equipment he used with Junsu and moving the rest of it out to the elders’ room made the most sense…at least to the youngest member of the group.
Coming into the living room, he’d walked towards the television and switched off the screen, ignoring the shouts of outrage from Junsu and Yunho, both cheering for different teams. There were very few times when Changmin laid down his temper against the others’, an event that…when arisen… easily swayed the men to do what the youngest wanted. This was going to be one of those times, Yunho could see it plainly on Min’s face. There would be no swaying of Changmin’s will. They would have to suffer any displeasure Jaejoong might dish out later. Min had spoken.
It wasn’t that the couple shamed him with their love, Changmin knew that Jaejoong’s pleasure would be tempered by his concern for the youngest’s comfort. What bothered Min was the compromise of their love merely because he had a need to sleep somewhere. That was something easily solved, a puzzle of logistics made more complicated by Jae’s insistence that Yoochun and Junsu remained ensconced in their nest facing the main street. That was another conundrum to be worked out, Min surmised. Given some time, the youngest would work it out. Now that the elder members were where they needed to be.
“I can’t believe you let him move into that tiny room.” Jaejoong gritted his teeth, trying to decide if he was happy or pissed off, a mane of wet hair dripping down onto his bare shoulders. “There’s not even a window in there!”
“I know.” Yunho watched his lover pace from the dresser to the bed, grabbing at a dry towel. Motioning for the singer to sit down on the floor, the leader took the lush terrycloth from Jae’s hands, slowly tamping the water from his black hair. A few expert rubs brought a lengthy purr from the singer’s throat, a rumbling moan of pleasure. “You know what it’s like to argue with Changmin’s temper. I’d sooner try to blow the sun out with my breath.”
“Don’t put on your shirt.” Yunho said when he released Jaejoong from between his legs, the leader’s fingers hooking into the singer’s waistband. “Leave it off.”
Jae looked over his shoulder at his lover, Yunho sliding to lay back against the wall, his head resting beneath the high window overlooking the corner. His changeable face warmed Jae’s belly, an assessing look raking over Jaejoong’s legs and rear. Jaejoong had become familiar with that look, a hunger growling up from Yunho’s primal urges. His knees weakened from the intensity in the other man’s eyes, drawing the singer closer with a seductive pull.
Both of the beds had been pushed together, the wide mattresses lined up tight, the wooden platform frames unmovable on the polished floor planking. Jae’s nest of pillows rested at the head of the bed, the corner of the wall filled with downy feather squares covered in a riotous mass of fabrics. Yunho’s blankets covered the bottom, folded carefully over fresh sheets, a heavy king-sized duvet resurrected from the linen closet serving as a feather top for their expansive bed.
The room seemed larger despite the bundled equipment at the other end, dressers and tables pushed away from the centre of the room, leaving the two a wide walking space. Jae covered that space slowly, his hair nearly dry from Yunho’s ministrations. The futon couch from the other room now boasted his t-shirt, a cast off cotton garment Jae tossed behind him. A flick of the dimmer by the door pulled down the lights, a single low burn from a table lamp shining from the night stand.
Music played softly from the stereo speakers, an instrumental blues piece Jaejoong had fallen in love with. The weeping guitars and soulful piano filled Yunho with a fierce longing, hearing the soul of the singer in the haunting notes. The leader parted his thighs, making room for the long-limbed young man crawling over the bed towards him. Yunho’s mouth opened to receive Jae’s kiss, his tongue lapping at the sweet moistness hidden within. His strong hands gripped the other’s lean waist, stroking over the bit of muscled rear rising from Jae’s cotton pants.
They kissed again, a slow lingering poignant want driving them furious with need. Jae’s fingers roamed, trying to find each crevice of Yunho’s body under the confining wrap of his clothes. Needing to feel skin under his palms, the singer pulled on Yunho’s t-shirt, working it up over the other’s shoulders until Yunho finally leaned forward, letting his lover tug it free from his overheated body.
“I love the feel of you.” Jae leaned over, kissing at the curves in Yunho’s arms. The long strands of his uncombed hair brushed over the sensitive length of Yunho’s naked belly, his stomach clenching at the scent of his lover’s shampoo. “It’s like steel under velvet. When I move my mouth, I can feel your blood under my tongue.”
“You have too many clothes on.” Yunho pushed down at the elastic on Jae’s pants, the cotton sliding easily down the other’s lean body. Jae hooked his toes into the fabric, moving the constriction off and sliding the scrubs onto the floor. Naked, he bent down to lave at Yunho’s navel, working the tip of his tongue around the sensitive flesh there.
“So do you.” Dark, luminous eyes stared up from Jae’s lustrous face, kohl rimmed ebony against the pale iciness of his features. Carved from ivory and jet, the singer’s lush beauty tugged at Yunho’s heart, his fingers itching to delve deep past those sinful lips, wanting to wet them on Jae’s exquisiteness.
“Go look in the night stand. The top drawer.” Yunho jerked his chin towards the freestanding cabinet, the lamp casting laced shadows over the white painted surface. Jaejoong reluctantly pulled away, sliding over onto his stomach to yank on the drawer pull. Yunho slid his own pants off, catching his ankle on one leg opening, trying to wrest it free without falling off of the mattress.
Jaejoong removed a small pink paper bag from the drawer, a confused look on his face. Yunho nodded in agreement, reaching forward to yank on the young man’s hips, drawing Jae back onto his lap. The paper crinkled as Jae opened its closed end, drawing out a small tube of lubricant from its scented interior.
“Where did you…get this?” Jae’s words stumbled, the veracity of their relationship suddenly coming to roost in his mind. The tiny container of pleasure oil screamed a myriad of conflicting possibilities, all suddenly made real just by its presence in the bedroom he shared with Yunho.
“One of the back-up dancers.” Yunho took the tube from Jae’s trembling hands, sliding it down onto the blankets before wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist.
“He’ll know about… you and…” The singer was shocked that the young man would take such a risk. “He’ll know you are with…”
“Any girl.” Yunho assured him, stroking at Jae’s face with the back of his hand. “He was telling me that women sometimes have difficulties…well, I overheard him talking to another of the dancers. I thought it would be a good thing to ask about and he told me to try this. As far as he knows, I have a reluctant virgin to coax into loving me.”
“I…” The tube’s chilly length burned still in Jae’s hand, a plastic harbinger he didn’t know that he was ready to heed. “Yunho…”
“I’m not saying that we should… do everything tonight…or even this week.” Yunho’s gentle voice calmed the singer’s nerves, his hands still on Yunho’s chest. “But we should … take some time to help you adjust. Yes? Isn’t that something Scarlet said we should do?”
Nodding, his teeth buried into his lower lip, Jaejoong’s chin rested against his chest, his heart skipping with the sheer want to please his lover. His body ached for something inside of him, a knowing instinct that his mind couldn’t begin to grasp.
Yunho’s fingers had brushed up on the rim of pleasure, stroking just at the ring when he’d last dragged his tongue down on Yunho’s hard flesh. The experience both startled and thrilled Jaejoong, his body automatically pressing back on the digit, both wanting and dreading the intrusion. Yunho had teased around him, whispering that neither one of them was quite ready for delving into the wholeness of sex but that it would be soon…a fullness of spirit that they would share.
The enticement of Yunho beckoned Jaejoong, his mouth seeking the other’s throat, nipping his teeth along the length of skin there before moving onward to the jutting bone of Yunho’s collarbone. Cradling his lover’s head with the cup of his palm, Yunho kissed at Jae’s ear, nuzzling the other man’s temple before moving down to stroke at his lower back.
“Everything is moving so quickly…” Jaejoong felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He was the one who pushed this on Yunho. What did he expect when their relationship progressed? And his body wanted this, that filling of Yunho in him. His insides wept at the thought of needing the hard length and it being denied to him, however shuttered his mind was at the thought.
“We won’t do any of that tonight, Boo.” Yunho promised. “I just wanted you to know that if you are ready… when you’re ready…I have thought of you. I don’t want to be the one to make you cry in pain. I never want that. I love you too much to have you cringe when I touch you. We have to do this slowly because I know that it will hurt. We both know that. But I will make it easier for you. Please believe me.”
“I do. I trust you. I believe you.” Jaejoong rested his head against Yunho’s shoulders, sighing in the warmth of his love welling inside of him. “I know you love me. I love you too. You are my obsession… my temptation… my sin… as much as I am yours.”
“Do you think it hurts a lot?” Junsu’s voice in the darkness startled Micky, a question he’d never thought would leave the other’s mouth.
Suspicious if they were thinking on the same thing, Yoochun asked tentatively. “What hurts?”
“Sex…between them.” Junsu turned over onto his side, the watery blue light from the window washing over his face and shoulders. “I mean… wouldn’t it hurt?”
“I don’t know. I think that… precautions can be taken.” Micky offered up a morsel of information. “Jaejoong told me about what his friend, Scarlet said to him. I think it was sound advice.”
“It’s good that Jae has someone to talk to about things like that.” Junsu flopped back onto the bed, lifting his arms over his head and tucking them under the pillow. He lay like that for a long minute before turning back over to face his roommate. “Did Joongie-ah tell you what his Auntie said?”
“A bit.” Yoochun cleared his throat, wondering how much he should share with the other. “I was… curious.”
“Ah, I should start calling you YooMin then.” The singer teased, his laughter infectious. The crinkle of joy at the edges of his eyes warmed the skin of Yoochun’s body, a delightful blanket of companionship they’d often shared in the darkness of a cold night. “What did he tell you?”
“Aish! Do you really want to know?” Micky knew the heat of his body turned from an affection to embarrassment at the question.
“Just a little bit. What? You can be curious but I can’t?” Junsu reached over with his foot, pushing at Micky with his toes. “I just wonder if it hurts. I mean you really have to love someone a lot if you are willing to have sex with them when it causes a lot of pain.”
“I think it can be avoided…or at least… eased.” Yoochun’s throat closed up around his words. A small part of his brain screamed at him, warning him that he was traversing into areas he shouldn’t discuss with the other. Ignoring the caution, his mouth continued, recklessly unheeding any alarm that his mind set off. “Jaejoong said that anything they do has to be done slowly…carefully. And with oils or something slick. I’m not sure how long that would take to get to that point.”
“Hmmm.” Junsu pondered the situation, turning over the possibilities in his mind. “It sounds like it would work, yes?”
“I’m sure so.” Yoochun floundered, wondering how he could turn the conversation away from this particular train of thought. “I’m certain Jaejoong’s Auntie helped him understand how everything worked. Or at least gave them advice they can follow.”
“Good…I was concerned about that.” Junsu’s foot remained on Micky’s leg, resting comfortably on the young man’s shin. The singer contemplated another question, a curious puzzle of thoughts unfolding behind his expressive face. “Have you ever kissed another man?”
“What?” Yoochun choked on his own spit, nearly blacking out from the shock. Clearing his throat, he stumbled at the jagged curve Junsu spun on their talk. “Junsu!”
“We’ve talked about everything, yes?” The other pointed out. “What is different from this? I’ve kissed other men. My brother… my father. But it would be different I suppose.”
Yoochun sighed, thinking hard. “I’ve kissed some on the cheek. Certainly my younger brother. I don’t think my father though. I’ve kissed Jaejoong on the mouth a few times.”
“But only as a friend, right?” Junsu’s face was serious, an earnest sobriety to his query. “I know the two of you are friends…close friends but it’s like a brother, yes. You don’t feel about him like he does Yunho, right?”
“No.” Yoochun shook his head, his hand finding the bump of Junsu’s ankle. His fingers stroked at the spot, moving to carve a soft line of touch along the other’s arch. “I love Jaejoong because he is like my family. Every time I look into my heart, he’s there.. helping me through hard times and wiping my tears from my face. I don’t think I have cried so much in this year and yet I have so many taking the pain from my skin…you included.”
“Have you ever wondered what kissing another man was like?” The grin Yoochun always saw in Junsu’s eyes was gone, replaced by something more erotically enticing. “Like Yunho kisses Joongie-ah. You can see them drink in their mouths sometimes, when you can catch them kissing. They hide it so much. I would think that it would be different from kissing a girl.”
“Sometimes, I wonder.” Micky admitted softly, a single nod of assent. “I see Jaejoong’s pleasure and wonder at it.”
“I do too.” Junsu leaned forward, spanning the tight space between their beds with his taut body.
A gentle brush of the other’s mouth on Yoochun’s lips startled the singer, the rough warmth of a man’s mouth on his own. The touch lasted a mere breath, long enough for them to taste one another at the ridge of their tongues, a fused ecstasy burning a sulphurous torture into Yoochun’s groin. Pulling back, his breath panting slightly, Junsu’s smile once more wreathed over his handsome face. Lifting one hand, he wiped at the corner of Micky’s gaping mouth, brushing the kiss further along Yoochun’s sensitive lips.
“Good night, Chunnie-ah. And thank you.” Junsu lay back, turning over and pulling the covers up over his shoulders. “I’ve wanted to see what that was like for the longest time now.”