Title: Coffee & Regrets ♥
Chapter: 5 [NC-17] LEMON
Overall Fic Rating: NC-17
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4
Summary: A pair of lovers, worn and faded by time, hope to recapture what they once had… or walk away after bittersweet goodbyes.
When Changmin woke, he sensed he was alone in the apartment. He’d fallen asleep to the lull of the older members’ voices, a comforting blend of Yunho’s deep rumble and Jaejoong’s lighter treble. A headache reminded him of the beer he’d drank the night before and the sweet scent of soap on his sheets did little to ease the throb in his temples.
He’d have to damn Yunho later for using the shower gel he’d stashed in the back of the laundry room. He’d run out of detergent at some point, and since clothes washing was taken care of by a service, he’d not bothered to stock up the wash area. Now his sheets smelled like vanilla, coffee and cloves.
The wash room was where he’d shoved Se7en’s belongings after their falling out.
Now he was lying in a bed that smelled of his ex-lover and Changmin found his body responding to the erotic scents clinging to his body. His sex grew thick and heavy. Its tip dampened, the slit moistening with every second Min lingered on his memories of Se7en touching him.
It been too long since someone… since Se7en touched him. No one else had come close to setting Changmin on fire. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to try.
Sliding his fingers down his belly, Min closed his eyes. He moved his hand slowly, running his nails over his abdomen. Without thinking, he drifted his other hand up until his fingers rested at the edge of his mouth. His teeth were sharp on his fingertips and Changmin swallowed, aching inside to have Se7en’s touch on him.
His tongue was damp on his fingers and Min sucked on the tips before sliding further in. Moistening his fingers, Changmin made them as wet as he could. He needed some relief, especially with Se7en’s scent around him. Carefully, he reached down, tentative of touching himself. The initial brush of his finger against his tight ring made him gasp and his erection pulsed with need.
Broaching his own clenched core made him gasp. Min pressed against the entrance of his body and moaned when he pulled at the base of his sex with his other hand. When he turned onto his side to give himself more freedom, his bed linens tightened around his body, wrapping around his chest and legs.
“God,” Changmin groaned and pushed in with his index finger, stretching himself with the breadth of his tip. The slender invasion brushed on the nerves of his body, sending bolts of sensation rippling through the length of his sex. It twitched in his hand, jumping further when he slid his palm up and down the shaft until he throbbed and writhed in response to his own touch.
Sliding in only made the want intensify. He couldn’t reach deeper without releasing his hold on his sex but the tantalizing feel of something inside of him was erotic. Another stroke of his hand made him shudder and Min ran his thumb over the damp head, spreading his seed over the tip and into his own skin. He wanted to taste the pearly liquid, as he’d tasted himself in Se7en’s mouth when they kissed after sex but it seemed too forbidden…too taboo and he kept his hands where they were, enticing him into submission.
The tip of his finger brushed against the centre of his body’s tingling core and he jerked upwards, unable to withstand the sensations coursing through him. The sheets tightened more and their scent thickened, drawn out by the heat of his body. Moving his hand faster, he pulled on his sex, falling into a steady rhythm until his jaw ached and his face tightened against the rush of his orgasm began to hit him full force.
With the sheets swaddling his limbs and chest, it felt as if Se7en held him, riding him to his peak and Changmin gasped, begging and writhing as he dove his fingers into himself. The stretch of his core broke him and he arched, his muscles locked and tightening. His sex exploded, lines of liquid soaking into the bed and spreading on his overheated skin. Screaming with his orgasm, Changmin gasped and cried out, rocking in Se7en’s imagined embraced.
“Shichi!” Min cried out, riding his own fingers until his sex gave its last.
Moaning, he twisted, tensing the linens around him. His emotions broke, filling him with the sorrow and anger he’d kept at bay when he’d first walked away from his dark-eyed lover. Sobbing, Changmin rocked himself gently, finally curling into a ball amid the soiled linens that smelled of Se7en and sex.
“I love you, Dong-Wook,” Changmin whispered, his tears as hot as the spill of his seed. “I miss you, baby. God, I miss you so much.”
The bed gave under Yoochun’s weight and Junsu howled as his lover’s elbow dug into the small of his back. Laughing, the baritone curved over the young man’s back, biting into the plump rise of his ass before sliding over onto the bed. Shoving at Yoochun’s shoulder, Junsu burst into giggles when Chun fell off of the bed, flailing comically as he hit the floor.
“I’m dead,” Yoochun cried out. “You’ve killed me. I’m dead.”
“For a dead man, you’re very loud,” Junsu commented, looking over the edge of the bed.
“I am a ghost,” Yoochun said. Making mock-scary noises, he rose slowly, crimping his fingers into monster hooks. “I am looking for my lover. He killed me. He pushed me from a cliff…”
“This is a very short cliff,” The other man said, studying the height of the bed. “We don’t even have a frame under it.”
“That’s because it made too much noise.” The baritone reminded him. “And stop breaking my concentration, I can’t be a scary ghost if you pointing out the flaws of my death. Just go with it.”
“But I’m trying to…” Junsu’s phone chirped and he frowned, reaching for it when he saw the number on the screen. “Hold on, Chunnie-ah.”
“Eh?” Yoochun rose from the floor and matched Junsu’s frown when his lover shushed him with a wave of a hand. “Who is it?”
“Shush.” Junsu slid his phone open to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hello, Junsu-ah.” The voice on the other end was subdued, so very different from the self-assured, confident singer he knew. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Junsu replied, widening his eyes at Yoochun. “How are you, Dong-Wook?”
“Dong-Wook?” Chunnie whispered loudly. “Min’s Dong-Wook? His Shichi?”
“I’m going to shove a pillow in your mouth,” Junsu threatened under his breath. “I’m good. What can I do for you?”
“Do you have some time?”
“Of course,” Junsu replied, shoving Yoochun to the side.
“Good, because…” Se7en murmured. “I need some help and if I call Jaejoong…”
“Yunho would skin you and use your hide for a rug,” The younger man finished. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need… Changmin,” The singer whispered into the phone. “I need to talk to him and…his number is disconnected.”
“Oh, the phones.” He gaped at Yoochun.
“The phone… their phones, remember?” Junsu prodded. “The company gave them new phones and numbers. Se7en doesn’t have Min’s number.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Yoochun said. “Do you remember how long it took for us to get Yunho’s new number.”
“It was like a spy mission,” His lover replied. “God, I’m glad we weren’t a part of that. Poor Yunho and Jaejoong.”
“Hello?” Se7en’s voice echoed through the phone line. “Remember me?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry,” Junsu apologized. “Hold on, let me get it for you.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” Yoochun asked. “I mean, suppose Changmin doesn’t want you to.”
“What’s the worst he can do? Hit me?” The tenor cocked his head as he muted the phone. “Okay that’s pretty bad. He’s strong. It could hurt. But, Chunnie-ah, this is love. Don’t you want them to be happy? Don’t you want them to find their love again?”
“I’m more worried about Min finding my face with his fist,” Yoochun grumbled. “Yeah, give him the number and we’ll deny everything but I’d rather Changmin be angry at me and happy with Se7en than trying to kill himself with neglect.”
Junsu reopened the phone line and gave Se7en the number, ignoring the trembling discomfort in his belly. Yoochun leaned in and kissed his neck, reassuring Junsu that he was doing the right thing. Junsu said goodbye and closed the phone, leaning back into Yoochun’s embrace.
“Do you think we did the right thing?” Junsu asked.
“Yes,” Yoochun replied, slanting his mouth over the other man’s in a hot kiss. “Because Changmin should know how good it feels to have someone who loves him in his arms.”
Se7en stared at the number he’d jotted down. The simple strokes of ink were stark blue on the back of a takeout menu. Such a simple scribbling that could change his life forever or damn him to an eternal hell. It would all depend on the man on the other end of those blue ink scribbles.
Taking a deep breath and a gulp of sour mash whiskey, Se7en punched in the number. He felt his belly jump as the line connected and then his guts twisted into a knot at the sound of Changmin’s voice mail. He hung up before the message beeped, listening to the dial tone echo in his ear.
“Did you not answer because it was me, Minku?” Se7en stared at the phone. “Or is it because you found someone else to make you moan?”
Changmin heard the phone ring, expecting it to be picked up by the answering service on the other end. When a familiar, exotic voice said hello, he nearly stammered then swallowed, getting a hold of his nerves before he spoke.
“Hello,” Min murmured, trying to sound cool and collected. It was easier now. He was older and more experienced but the voices inside echoed insecurities deep within him. “I…need you.”
“Can you come over?”
“Now?” Min asked then caught himself. “Yeah, I can come over.”
“I’ll let the doorman know you’re coming so he’ll let you up.”
“Half an hour? Is that good?”
“That’s fine. It will give me time to get…ready.”
“Should I bring anything?” Courtesy was ingrained in him, even when he was skirting into dangerous territory.
“No, I don’t need anything.” The voice was reassuring, even as Changmin’s nerves tingled. “The only thing I need right now is you.”
“That,” Min said softly. “That I can do.”