Title: On The Red Couch ♥
Pairing: YunJae (with some YooSu and Min7en)
Chapter Rating: R
<PLEASE NOTE: THERE WILL ONLY BE ONE MORE CHAPTER FOLLOWING THIS ONE.
Then OTRC will be over. I will be doing shorter SMM novellas but the long series is over.
Then OTRC will be over. I will be doing shorter SMM novellas but the long series is over.
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.
Strange as it seemed, Japan felt like home when the plane touched down, its tires hitting the asphalt without a bounce. From the airport, the couple travelled through the city in a company car, its windows tinted with a dark film. Tokyo glistened despite the shadowed glass, dressed in neon and silvery lights. Halfway through the downtown entertainment district, Jaejoong called out to the driver, urging him to stop.
“What? Joongie, what is it?” Yunho craned his neck, trying to see out of the window where Jaejoong pointed behind them. The driver miraculously found a spot to pull over and the Korean singer was out of the car before it was fully stopped, the door swinging slightly in his wake. Sliding across the leather seat, Yunho followed, and stared, his mouth wide open in shock.
“It’s… us,” Jaejoong whispered, barely audible over the traffic.
Yunho stepped up behind him, his fingers whispering over Jae’s shoulders. “God, it’s… huge.”
The banner hung from the edge of a skyscraper, unfurling down nearly ten stories. Their faces dominated the intersection, spotlights playing over their black suited bodies then catching on their Japanese name below. The words were silver, outlined in a glossy black and reflected the city’s sparkling lights.
“Su-su looks… mad,” Jaejoong covered his mouth and laughed, turning to momentarily bury his face into Yunho’s chest.
“Changmin is fierce,” Yunho said, studying their youngest. “He looks… mature.”
“Mature enough,” Jae leaned into Yunho’s chest, resting his back against his lover. “To be Se7en’s.”
“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?” The other man scowled, frowning at his own image. “Min’s ears are so big. No wonder you like elephants. They remind you of him.”
“Aish, don’t say that, his ears aren’t big!” Jaejoong slapped Yunho’s arm. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”
Whispering voices drew Jaejoong back to his senses and then a chittering giggle from a young woman pushed them both back into the car. Closing the door behind his passengers, the driver circled the town car and pulled out into traffic, leaving the growing crowd of fans behind.
“It’s so… big,” Jaejoong said, watching the banner fade into the distance.
“It’s nothing compared to how big we are going to be, Joongie-ah,” Yunho laughed, his robust voice deep and cheerful. “With you next to me and with the others, we shall show Japan our best.”
Two days later, Yunho fell onto his bed, face down into the mounds of soft pillows Jaejoong liked to gather around them. Sniffing, he wrinkled his nose, finding a scent he wasn’t familiar with. Closing his eyes, he took another breath in and turned his head to stare at his lover coming out of the bathroom.
“Did you and Changmin sleep together or something?” Yunho pursed his mouth, rolling over to make room for Jaejoong to slide in next to him. “The pillows smell like him.”
“They smell like him because we lay here talking.” The singer yawned, stretching his arms out above him and rolling his wrists around. His taut muscles flexed and bulged, his joints cracked loose and releaseing the tension in his body. “He needed to talk about Dong-Wook.”
“I saw him there,” Yunho replied. “Se7en said for me to tell the wife hello.”
“Oh?” Jaejoong lifted his eyebrows, making a mental note to geld Se7en when he had the opportunity. “I shall be sending him my love back. It would be good for Min to be the only man in that relationship.”
“That’s what I love about you, Joongie,” Yunho smiled, reaching for his lover. “You are wicked. I’ll hold him down for you.”
“Hah! I will have Min do it,” He snorted. “It would be good for Dong-Wook to remember that we are never divided and what you do to one, you do to all.”
Lulled to a happy place with the thought of Se7en being delivered his comeuppance by his lover and friend, Yunho hooked his arm around Jaejoong’s waist, pulling him in. “What did you talk about?”
“Se7en, or rather, how to love another man as stubborn as his hyung, Yunho,” Jaejoong teased, laughing when he drew a harsh chuckled out of his lover. “I told him; It also doesn’t matter how you love. So long as you do.”
“Good words,” Yunho replied.
“Nuna told me that.” He shuffled down, fitting into Yunho. They found each other’s spaces instinctively, hip to hip with their legs hooked around the others. The leader’s hands skimmed over Jae’s belly, playing with his navel ring as they fell into a single breath, their hearts slowing to the same beat. “She told me that I would love you, and even if you did not love me back, that I was at least knowing love. That it was the most glorious, painful and wonderful thing I could ever feel. And God, I hated you for it.”
“Ke,” The other man laughed, “I wasn’t too fond of you for it either. Remember how much we fought?”
“I wanted to pull out your eyes and feed them to you in a stew,” Jae admitted. “But then you shifted the sands under me and I fell. Sometimes I still feel like I’m falling in love with you. Every day I wake up and think, can this go any deeper? Will I ever find the bottom? But I never seem to.”
“I’ll catch you,” Yunho promised. “Or better yet, I’ll catch you and we can fly away. Two birds looking for someplace tropical to live.”
“Aish, I get sunburned,” The other man reminded him. “Remember how red I was?”
“Yeah.” Yunho’s face softened. “I spent hours rubbing lotion into you and trying to get you to drink water. I hurt watching you move.”
“We had fun there though,” Jae grinned. “Although I think Min was trying to drown me.”
“I think Min was trying to drown everyone,” Yunho admitted with a chuckle. “He was still mad about going from hyung to dongsaeng.”
“I don’t think he’s ever going to stop being mad about that.” They laughed together, cuddled against the cold outside. Their youngest was predictable, a steady linear thinker with a fierce temper and sharp wit. “He’s not coming back tonight, Yunho. You know that right?”
“I feel about as comfortable talking about Min and Se7en as I do talking with my father about us having sex.” He grumbled at Jae, shifting on the bed linens. The pillows were warming, taking on the singer’s familiar scent.
“It’s crazy that your father asked about sex,” Jaejoong laughed, his belly aching with the idea. “I would have paid a lot of money to see your face. Or your father’s.”
“I’m pretty sure I blushed redder than Min does when he walks in on us,” Yunho smirked. “But I kept my cool and told him… politely… that it wasn’t any of his business. Well, not in so many words but I’m sure he understood.”
“I wish…” The man’s voice trailed off, a wispy thing lifting up from his pout.
“Nothing. Never mind,” Jaejoong dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand.
“Did it have to do with your dad?” Yunho asked, nuzzling into Jaejoong’s hair. “That you wish he were with you sometimes?”
“Yeah,” He said, letting himself be cradled by his lover’s tightened arms. “He and I were never… really close. I think … sometimes… that he didn’t really want me. He only agreed to my mother taking me in because she wanted a son and funnily enough, he found himself with another daughter instead.”
“Don’t say that, Joongie,” Yunho reproached the other man gently. “You’re as much of a man as the next. Hell, a better one in most cases.”
“I am sorry my father doesn’t… see me that way,” Jaejoong murmured, lost in his thoughts. “I listen to Min and Junsu talk about how their fathers are with them… so proud…and as if their sons are everything to them. I… sometimes am so jealous of that. It hurts inside to want something that I’ll never have but now, I feel better knowing that your father is here for you. That you feel that love. It’s a comfort for my heart.”
“You…” Yunho turned Jae’s chin so he could kiss the man soundly. “You are my comfort.”
He sipped at the nectar of Jae’s mouth, a hummingbird dipping in to a flower to slake a long winter’s hunger. Jae turned, laying on his back and returned the kiss with a gentle purse of his lips. Sliding his palm over Jae’s cheek, Yunho kept his lover’s skin warm with his hand, stroking at the soft hair coming of Jae’s ear and playing with the black piercings dotting the ridge of the man’s cartilage. Covering Jae with his body, Yunho pressed his lover into the bed, sliding his legs down between Jae’s knees to lessen some of his weight.
“Your mouth is like a gift from God,” Yunho whispered. “I could spend my life drowning in your kisses.”
Lowering his mouth down over Jae’s, Yunho didn’t hear the stomp of feet out in the hallway or see the shadows lurking at the end of the bed until it was too late. A high pitched banshee scream was all the warning either man had of their impending doom but it wasn’t enough time to prepare for the assault.
Yoochun landed first, his long weight slamming into Yunho’s legs and back. Howling, the older man twisted, wincing when he felt a pull along his back muscles and shoved at the baritone but the other man barely moved. Junsu catapulted in on top of them, burying Jaejoong under a mound of pretty muscle and voices. Laughing, the tenor fell into pitched giggles when Yunho tried climbing out from under them. Hooking his fingers into the ticklish spot under Yunho’s ribs, Susu wiggled at the other man’s skin, pushing Yunho from his mild disgust to a wild flailing screaming fit.
“Stop! Stop!” Yunho tried to find Junsu’s hands to slap them away but buried under the others, he couldn’t discern who was who. His first attempt elicited a yelp from Yoochun and while it wasn’t his original target, he was wickedly satisfied with the result. “Get off of us, you idiots.”
“I can’t breathe,” Jaejoong said quietly, gasping. “And someone’s hurting my leg.”
The pile immediately stopped wiggling and the men peeled off one another, Yunho stretching for his lover’s hips and tenderly running his hand down Jaejoong’s knees. Yoochun sat up on his haunches, worry creasing his sensitive face. There was a hint of tears lurking in his soulful eyes, emotionally pulled free from his own concern over Jaejoong’s troubled knee. Junsu rolled away, ready to fetch anything Yunho needed to ease any of Jaejoong’s aches.
“Are you okay, Joongie-ah?” Yoochun asked, his deep voice trembling. “We didn’t mean to…”
“No, no,” Jae said, catching his breath and sitting slightly up. “I was just angled wrong and had the wind knocked out of me. Let me breathe a little bit. I’ll be okay.”
“Don’t you idiots know how to knock?” Yunho glared.
“The door was open,” Junsu said brightly, the shadows in his eyes gone in a whisper of sunshine now that he knew Jaejoong was alright. “You never leave the door open if you’re going to…”
“Well, they do,” Yoochun corrected, slithering down to cuddle against Jaejoong’s side. The singer looped an arm around his best friend, resting his chin on Chun’s shoulder. “There was that time Yunho didn’t close the door when we lived in Seoul and…”
“How the hell do you know it was me that didn’t close the door?” Yunho sniffed, grumpily settling down on the other side of Jaejoong.
“Because Jaejoong’s hands were bound to the bed with those little black ties they made us wear once.” The baritone burst into laughter when Yunho’s face turned bright ume red. “Wardrobe was wondering where they’d gone. I should have told her.”
“I am going to beat you,” Yunho muttered, putting his flaming cheeks against Jaejoong’s cooler skin. “Beat you until you bleed.”
“Don’t,” Junsu said. “He whines when he gets a paper cut. I don’t want to hear him complain all night because he’s bruised.”
“Aish, come here babe,” Grumbling playfully at his lover, Yoochun held his hand out to Junsu.
The tenor slid around Jaejoong’s feet, a flicker of emotion playing over his exquisite face. Catching at Junsu’s wrist, Yoochun pulled his lover down, sliding back to snug Junsu between himself and Jaejoong. Surprised, Junsu stared up at the baritone, his elegant mouth gaped open.
“Stay here with me. Joongie and I will keep you warm,” Yoochun said. Peering over the others’ shoulders he nodded at Yunho. “What time are we going to raid Se7en’s apartment and kidnap Changmin back?”
“We’re not,” Jae said firmly. “We are going to let him be.”
“Aw, that’s no fun,” Junsu lifted the corner of his mouth and whimpered when Yunho pinched the curve. “Ouch!”
“Umma has said that Min and his love-toy is off limits,” The leader said. “I don’t agree with him but I like eating.”
“That’s not all you’d lose if Jae’s mad at you.” Trapped on the bed by Junsu’s ankle lodged between his calves, Yoochun couldn’t avoid the hard punch to his shoulder from Jae’s clenched hand. “Ouch, you’re always hitting me. You and Min. The two of you are like kangaroos. Always boxing.”
“Are you guys ready for Budoukan? I know it’s months away but…” Junsu asked. “Everything seems to be happening so slow but then… so quickly. I’m… not sure…are we good enough? Will they like us?”
His fear was palatable, a sneaking creeping thing that edged into the others’ hearts and minds. The room dropped to silence, the enormity of what faced them in a few months lingering like a ghost among then. Yunho cleared his throat, stepping into the role he’d first assumed when he joined the group.
“They’ll love you, Susu-ah. Everyone loves you,” Yunho stroked his friend’s hair, calming the younger man down. “They’ll scream when Jaejoong comes out, yelling for him to take off his clothes or something. And they’ll scream when Yoochun cries…”
“I’m not going to cry!” The baritone protested.
“You always cry,” The three other men replied together, shaming Yoochun into hiding his face.
“The only question is…when?” Junsu said, snorting. “And which one of us are going to cry with you.”
“Not me,” Jaejoong said with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to look at him.”
“Hah, you’ll be looking at me and I’ll be biting my cheek so I don’t cry.” Yunho grinned.
“It’s manly to cry,” Yoochun sniffed. “I am just comfortable being sensitive and… a man!”
“Pfah,” Their leader dismissed the other man’s proclamation. “We’ll see. The first one who cries after Yoochun should have to do something for the others.”
“Like what?” Jaejoong narrowed his eyes. “The last time we played a betting game, it ended up with you being naked and having to roll in the snow. You bitched about having a cold one and I had to warm it up with my hands.”
“He only said that because it was your hands,” Yoochun cackled. “He probably said he was still cold when he was plenty warm enough!”
“Shut up,” Yunho threatened the baritone with a glare. “Or you’ll be crying now.”
“Okay, so… first person who cries after Chunnie has to do something for the others,” Junsu declared. “But who gets to decide that something?”
“I know,” Jaejoong grinned wickedly. “The member who cries last… or who doesn’t cry at all… gets to choose. And if there is a tie, then we kai bai bo for it.”
“Shit,” Chunnie swore under his breath. “Then you better all hope that Changmin starts bawling or whoever loses is going to be very very sorry the day after. He’s the one who made Yunho roll in the snow.”