this is for bardou who wanted YooSu angst.
Genre: It's complicated.
THIS IS TOTALLY AU FROM SMM. 100% off SMM. Not in any way related to So Much Mine, Lavender Bunny or anything else.
This probably will be some hardcore NC-17 or hell, maybe fluffy. I dunno.
Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five
“That was… years ago,” Junsu griped, slapping at Yunho as the man got up. Yunho evaded him easily, stepping wide as he headed to the kitchen. “That doesn’t count!”
“It does when no one knows about it,” He replied, digging through the hotel’s mini-bar for something to drink. “Jaejoong thinks he’s the first guy I ever touched. I don’t want him to find out otherwise.”
“We didn’t do much,” The younger man wrinkled his nose. “If I’m going to be blamed for something, I want to have at least more fun.”
“I wasn’t fun?” Twisting the cap off of a cucumber Pepsi, Yunho returned Junsu’s grimace. “You didn’t complain then.”
“I didn’t know any better then,” He replied, giving his leader a fake winning smile. “Now, it’s different.”
“Aish, so mean,” Yunho said, returning to the couch and cuddling up to Junsu’s side.
Yunho’s body heat warmed Junsu’s belly and the younger man moved, pulling his legs up and leaned closer. Yunho hooked his arm around the singer’s shoulders, drawing him in to a loose embrace. If he let his mind wander, Junsu could almost convince himself that he was still a trainee and sensual heat of Yunho’s chest and thighs belonged to a snaggle-toothed, fresh-faced, dancer intent on becoming something in the music world.
So much had changed since those days, Junsu mused, glancing up at Yunho’s lean, masculine profile. They’d been so young, lived so much in a few short years and lost so much in the journey. He couldn’t risk losing any more; especially not Yoochun.
“I thought I was in love with you back then,” Junsu admitted.
“You just missed your brother,” Yunho said. “He was gone and you needed someone. You just thought it was me.”
“I used to make up excuses to touch you.” The singer said, shaking his head. “I never did that with hyung.”
“You never needed to with Junho.” Yunho offered Junsu the bottle of light-green soda and the younger man wrinkled his nose in disgust.
“It doesn’t change how I thought I felt. I needed you then… to be…”
“You were having a hard time.” He moved his hips so Junsu could sprawl over his stomach and legs. Lifting his chin, Yunho felt Junsu settle into a comfortable position, tucking his head against Yunho’s throat. “We both were.”
The man’s heart beat was as recognizable as his own, a quiet steady thump Junsu could feel when he pressed his hand flat on Yunho’s chest. A musky spiced cologne now accompanied the unique masculine scent of Yunho’s skin but that too was familiar. Junsu first gave Yunho the scent for his birthday years ago and the man wore it still.
“Do you ever wonder…” Junsu fisted his hand in Yunho’s shirt, working his fingers into a tight knot. “Do you ever wonder how things would have been if we’d been… more lovers than friends?”
“Sometimes,” Yunho admitted then barked a short laugh. “Usually when Joongie pissed me off.”
“He’s good at that,” The singer said, curling his upper lip. “No one makes trouble like Jaejoong.”
A few more heartbeats passed then Junsu blinked, his world suddenly watering and hot. Burying his face into Yunho’s chest, he fought back the sob inside of him, a well of pain battling to escape. Taking a breath proved to be his undoing and the broken sound slithered out, tangled in Junsu’s heaving sigh. Another followed, a hiccup of pain sharpened with tears and regret. Yunho silently lifted his arms and embraced Junsu, holding him tighter when the younger man tried to slide free of the hug.
“Let me,” Yunho ordered. “Between us — you can cry.”
The older man’s eyes drifted, his attention fixed on the wall of darkness just outside of his hotel room window. The rain was no longer a stranger to the room, having settled in to provide a soundtrack for their shared pain. He had his own regrets; shoving Jaejoong away foremost in his mind and hearing the shattered animalistic sounds pouring from their most tender-hearted member, he now regretted the lies he’d arranged to be told to protect the three singers.
“Why didn’t you fall in love with me?” Junsu sobbed, his mumbles nearly lost in his crying jags. “Why didn’t I fall in love with you?”
“It just wasn’t… we weren’t meant to be, Su-ah,” Yunho whispered, rubbing the small of the man’s back. “You should have told Yoochun you were in love with him and I…should have told Jaejoong that my world is nothing without him.”
“I’m… complaining….and you…” He struggled to pull himself upright but Yunho held him in place. “You never think about yourself first, hyung. He knows you love him. He has to.”
“I never told him that I loved…that I love him. I never said those words,” Yunho admitted. “Even when we were alone, I thought if I said… if I told him…then everything would change and…”
“You couldn’t hide anymore,” Junsu whispered. “I never told Yoochun because… I was afraid. I didn’t want him to look at me and laugh. I didn’t want him to tell me that he loved me but wasn’t in love with me.”
“He’d never laugh at you,” The older man said. “Never.”
“We were…safe, Yunho. We were safe where we were. If I spoke…” Junsu bit his lip. “I’m a coward, Yunho. I couldn’t take that chance… I couldn’t.”
“Now, it looks like we have no choice,” Yunho murmured, stroking Junsu’s hair. “I think you and I need to talk to our… I don’t even know what to call them.”
“You’re going to tell Jaejoong the truth?” Junsu asked. “He’ll be mad. God, Yoochun will hate me more than he does now.”
“I think we need to, Susu-ah, but in the morning. Let’s sleep here tonight and tomorrow, we can face the day together,” Yunho said with a curt nod. “It’s time we both tell the men we want that we love them.”
“Do you have any idea how stupid this is?” Se7en grumbled, trying to find a comfortable position in his seat. He had to shout to be heard over the roaring engines, a yowling, auditory concussion that made him doubt the plane’s ability to stay in the air.
“Shut up.” Changmin’s growl was nearly as threatening as the plane’s. “It’s the best we could do. No one expect us to come over on a mail plane. We’ll be able to enter the country without people stalking us at the airport.”
“You, maybe,” The older man shouted to be heard. “They don’t stalk me. I’m lucky if a driver comes to pick me up.”
“You have a new album coming out soon,” Changmin said, nudging Se7en with his foot. “What do you think would happen if everyone found out you were sneaking into Japan with someone from another company?”
“If they saw you in those jeans,” Se7en quipped, eyeing Min’s torn denims. “They’d say I was a lucky man and give me the address to the nearest love hotel.”
Rolling his eyes, Min asked, “Is that all you think about?”
“Really? Since you put those on? Yes.” He shifted again, realizing the discomfort in his body had nothing to do with the seat and everything to do with the press of his hard sex against the inseam of his jeans. “God, how long is this going to last?”
“The flight? A couple of hours to Tokyo,” Changmin replied. “My uncle told me the plane goes slower than a commercial flight. The noise should cut off once we get above the cloud layer.”
“When the hell is that?” Se7en’s shout echoed in the cramped bulkhead as the engines suddenly dropped in volume and the plane leveled off.
“Now.” Min’s grin was wide and teasing.
“Does this flight have food?” The older man rubbed at his face, trying to work the tired out of his eyes. “Actually, I don’t need food. I need something to drink, preferably something strong.”
“Coffee,” Changmin replied, digging out a large thermos from the duffel bag he’d brought onboard. “It’s very strong.”
“You’re going to kill me,” Se7en complained. “I meant strong as in numb my tongue, not kill my taste buds.”
“I should have killed you once I found out you’d lied about sleeping with Yunho,” Min shot back. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Can you even say hell? You’re Buddhist.” Se7en sniffed at the paper cup of coffee he’d been given. The brew smelled sour and bitter black. Taking a small sip, he choked, his mouth agreeing wit his nose’s assessment. “This tastes worse than some American beers I’ve had. How can you drink this?”
“It’s easy,” Min said, sipping at his cup. “After your kisses, anything tastes sweet.”
He took another sip, wincing around the harsh sourness in his mouth. “I take it you’re still mad, then?”
“You ask me that? Now?”
“It seemed like a good time,” Se7en said, waving his hand. “The scenery doesn’t seem to hold much interest.
They took up the only two bucket seats in relatively roomy jet with steel racks holding bins of international mail filling the space behind them. A few feet away, a closed metal door separated them from the pilots’ cabin and four parachutes were hooked to the front wall, the heavy black back-cases swinging back and forth as the plane moved. Mostly windowless, their sole source of light came from small white bulbs positioned on a track above their heads.
“You are not innocent in this,” Min said, turning slightly so he faced Se7en. While roomier than most airplane seats, the mail plane wasn’t built for long-legged Koreans and his legs barely fit in the drop space. Sitting besides Se7en was his only choice and the other man’s close proximity was playing havoc on his nerves.
Just lean over and kiss him, His inner demon coaxed. The pilots have a bathroom in their space. It’s not like either one of them is going go come back here to check on you.
“You have the strangest expression on your face,” Se7en said, studying Min’s changing moods. “Is the coffee poisoned?”
“Yes, but I took the antidote before I poured it so I’ll be okay,” Changmin growled. “You, on the other hand — there is no hope for you.”
“Ah, your loving concern rears its ugly head.” He tsked at the younger man. “If you were going to poison me, you wouldn’t have gone through so much effort to smuggle me into Japan.”
“The only reason I’m smuggling you into Japan is so you can clear up the lies you’ve told to the members,” Min snapped back. “After that, you’re on your own. Go back to your world of half-truths and maybes. I don’t want to be a part of it.”
“No?” Se7en put the cup carefully down, lodging it between the seat side and the rack behind him. “Let’s see about that.”
The older man’s cupped Min’s face and he jerked his head back, startled. “What are you doing?”
YES! His gremlin exhorted, its shout loud enough to drown out the protests sputtering out of Changmin’s brain.
Se7en’s lush mouth slid over Changmin’s, lightly brushing over the ripe, fullness of the younger man’s lower lip. His tongue gently teased at the corners of Min’s frown, tasting each dip until the sensations along his mouth made it impossible for Min to keep his lips pressed tightly together. At the first sign of give, Se7en slanted his head and covered Min’s mouth in a searching kiss, slowly drawing out a single whimpering moan from Min’s trembling throat.
The sound shook him and Se7en wondered how he could have ever given up the taste of the man he now held to him. Min tasted of bitter coffee laced with the sweet undertone of pure sensuality. A few grains of sugar that Min picked up from the edge of his cup were trapped between them and they scraped against Se7en’s lips before melting under the dip of his tongue.
“Open for me, baby,” The older man coaxed, pressing his thumb pads against Min’s jaw line. Responsive to the touch, Changmin sighed and Se7en smiled when the other man’s lips parted. “There you go. There isn’t anything more beautiful than watching you bloom for me.”
Their tongues fought, each man searching for something only the other could give and Se7en pressed in, swearing when the armrest between their seats dug into his side. Reaching for Min’s hips, he undid the younger man’s seat belt and wrapped his hands around Changmin’s waist.
“Come here,” He growled, his need dark and dangerous between them. “I can’t kiss you properly like this.”
Numb from the kiss, Changmin allowed himself to pulled up and onto Se7en’s lap, hooking his long legs over the armrest dividing their chairs. The older man’s arm supported his back, blocking the hard plastic rest from digging into his muscles but when Min settled back, he could feel the press of Se7en’s sex against the crease of his rear.
“You feel me, no?” Se7en stroked Min’s face with light brushes of his fingertips. “Just kissing you makes me hard. No, don’t squirm, baby. I’m too close as it is. If you move, I’ll embarrass myself.”
“We shouldn’t be…” Changmin murmured, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “We aren’t… I am mad at you.”
“Make up sex is the best,” Se7en said, peppering small kisses along Min’s throat.
“The first sex we have will not be make up sex.”
“So long at some point in this, we have sex,” Se7en whispered. “I’ll be satisfied with kissing you breathless for right now.”
“You can’t kiss away your lies.” Min rested his forehead against Se7en’s. “There’s so much… space between us, Shichi.”
“Only because I was stupid enough not to trust you,” He said then added. “And dumb enough to let Yunho talk me into doing stupid things.”
“Why? What were you thinking?” Changmin leaned back, resting fully on Se7en’s supporting arm.
“I take it we are done with the kissing part of this flight, then?” The older singer asked ruefully. Sighing at Min’s stubborn pout, he rested back and shifted, adjusting Min’s weight until the younger man was no longer pressing down on his unsatisfied shaft. “What was I thinking? I was thinking that Yunho told you or at least you would be patient enough to let me explain.”
“I’ve never been patient,” Min noted. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I just never fully realized how intolerant and impatient you are.” Se7en winced as Min struggled to get off of his lap. “Don’t wiggle. You’re making me hurt in places I should only feel pleasure. And for once, little dragon, let me talk to you before you stomp off in a tempest.”
“May you piss glass shards,” Min cursed.
“Is this for the lie or for saying that you’re stubborn? I’m beginning to lose track of what kind of pain and punishment you’re inflicting upon my karma. I should be writing these down.”
“Start with the lie,” Changmin ordered, letting Se7en’s hands place him gently back on the other man’s lap. The singer’s fingers were firm on his hips, creeping up every few seconds to stroke at the bare skin between the hem of Min’s shirt and his waistband. “And stop that, you’re distracting me.”
“I should be rewarded for the truth,” Se7en said. “And before you pout again, let me finish talking. For once, let me say what I need to say without having to dodge words or objects flying at my head.”
“Go ahead,” Min growled.
“When Yunho called me and asked me to help him…” The older man put his fingertips on Min’s opening mouth. “Shush, my turn.”
Shut up, His demon prodded Min’s brain. He’s trying to talk to you and you keep interrupting.
Mollified, Min nodded. “Continue.”
“When Yunho asked me for my help, I told him he was crazy and that Jaejoong would never believe it,” Se7en said, caressing Min’s back. “How could he all of a sudden be having an affair with me? I asked him that and he told me that he’d already planted those seeds into Jae’s mind.”
“Jaejoong was hurt,” Min said, then pressed his lips together when Se7en shot him a hard glance. “Sorry.”
“Anyway, I asked Yunho; what are you thinking? Why me?” The older man chuckled. “And he told me not to worry; Jaejoong wouldn’t hold it against me because I’m a flirt. That’s when I told Yunho I was interested in you… that I’d been seeing you for a bit but we’d not…done anything. I didn’t want to lose that and do you know what he told me?”
“Can I speak now?” Min hissed at Se7en’s pinch on his hip. “Ouch.”
“He told me that you’d understand. That you were his dongsaeng and you’d do anything for him,” Se7en laughed. “I guess he never told you about those conversations. Cunning Yunho. In one pretend indiscretion, he severed my relationship with you and pushed the three off to fly on their own. Well done.”
“So that’s why you kept coming around,” Changmin whispered. “To tell me you never slept with Yunho.”
“I want to know why he didn’t say anything to you.” The look on Se7en’s face was nearly murderous. “I agreed to his stupid plot because he convinced me you five were miserable and I was someone he could trust. I just didn’t know I couldn’t trust him.”
“He tried.” Min dropped his gaze to his hands, suddenly finding his fingernails to be of great interest.
“What?” Se7en prodded him in the back. “What did Yunho try?”
“He tried to talk to me about you,” Changmin admitted. “I…kind of hold a grudge. After I threw a cup at him to shut him up, he stopped trying. I told him I didn’t want to hear anything about you and if he kept it up, I’d find someplace dark and deep to bury both of you in.”
“Shit.” Se7en exhaled sharply. “If I were him, I’d have believed you. You’re scary when you’re mad. Like a two year old with a machine gun.”
“I’m not that bad,” Min protested then winced, remembering the vitriolic words he’d screamed at Yunho. “Okay, maybe I am.”
“You are,” Se7en agreed. He was about to continue when one of the pilot’s voices came over the intercom.
“There is a storm front covering Tokyo so we cannot go any further. I am sorry for the inconvenience, sirs but air traffic control is making us land in Matsue. You will have to get a train or car to travel into Tokyo but it might be difficult as all travel is affected. All flights are being grounded until tomorrow at the earliest, perhaps even the day after. Please secure yourself in your seats. We will be landing in a few minutes,” The pilot’s voice crackled over the speaker system. “Again, my apologies.”
The plane banked sharply and the engine noise kicked in, drowning out the lengthy curses Changmin let loose. Se7en winced when the young man’s face flushed red and he quickly settled the singer down into his own seat. Scrambling to fasten Min’s seat belt, he jerked back when the younger man’s hands slapped him away.
Clicking the belt fasteners together, Min growled between gritted teeth. “All I want to do is fix this… thing Yunho left for ruin between the five of us. Why is their God against me in this?”
“Maybe God isn’t against you in this, Minku. Maybe he’s just working for me.” Grinning as the plane began its sharp descent, Se7en shot a glance up to the heavens and murmured. “Thank you for giving me more time with him. With your help, I can convince him to forgive me. And maybe then, we can put things to rights.”
“This is insane,” Yoochun hissed. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“Pfah, what else are we supposed to do? Sit and wait for them like good little wives?” Jaejoong grumbled back. He extracted the plastic hotel room key he’d conned out of the front desk, trying to figure out which way to slide it into the door slot. “The door keeps moving.”
“The door keeps moving because we’re drunk,” Yoochun said. “We should have stopped at two bottles of Junmai Ume Sake. Why did we think we could drink three large bottles?”
“Because we can take our alcohol,” The singer said, hiccupping. His face felt hot and he knew from experience his cheeks would be flushed red. Placing his hand on the door to keep it from moving, he shoved the card into the slot, crowing in delight when a light flashed green. “There! Got it open.”
“Suppose they’re… doing something…” Yoochun burbled, his voice trembling with the threat of tears. “I don’t think my heart could take it.”
“Don’t start crying yet,” Jaejoong warned. “We aren’t even inside yet. Remember, we agreed to be angry not sad or forgiving. Angry.”
“Angry,” Chun agreed. “But I don’t do angry well.”
“Pretend,” The singer said, turning the knob slowly to keep the men inside from hearing it open. “You can act. You’ve been practicing for that drama. Pretend now.”
They snuck in or as much as they could considering Yoochun’s legs didn’t appear to listen to his brain’s steering and Jaejoong couldn’t seem to stop his giggles, his mouth pursed tightly to keep from bursting out in laughter. Nearly knocking over a lamp in the main room, Jaejoong hissed at his friend when Yoochun yelped.
“I hit my shin,” Yoochun complained. “The table has sharp corners.”
“They’re not here in the main room,” Jaejoong said, flipping on the main lights. The living area of the suite brightened, turning the windows into mirrors reflecting their inebriated images back at them. “God, do you think they’re in bed together?”
“I don’t want to know,” Yoochun cried, falling down onto the couch. He misjudged its location and tumbled, sprawling out on the floor. “This was a bad idea.”
“It’s a good idea.” Jaejoong refused to accept his friend’s dramatic proclamation. “Junsu wouldn’t sleep with him, would he?”
“Of course he would!” The baritone murmured from his prone position on the floor. “I drove him into Yunho’s arms!”
“You couldn’t drive Junsu into your arms and suddenly now, you’re a matchmaker between them?” Jaejoong asked, prodding the man with his foot. “Fine. You lie here and I’ll go find them.”
Jaejoong stumbled to the bedroom doorway, finding the wall with the flat of his hand. The slapping noise of his palm hitting the plaster was loud and he hissed, reproaching himself for the sound. The door lay open and with the light from the living room, he could make out the two men in the king-sized bed in the next room.
His heart stopped, unable to carry his blood any further at the sight of the men cuddled against one another. Yunho’s broad shoulders rested on the leather headboard, and his head was lowered as he bent over Junsu’s reclining form. The younger singer’s face was tilted up towards the older man, his lips swollen and red. Yunho’s mouth ghosted over Junsu’s forehead, an intimate gesture normally reserved for lovers.
Jaejoong’s lungs burned and he forced himself to take in air, searing the ache into his belly with each shaking intake of cold pain. Yunho looked up at the gasping sound and his eyes widened, their dark depths unreadable in the scant shadows lurking around the bed. His arms tightened about Junsu’s shoulders, as if to protect the younger man from Jaejoong’s impending wrath and his nostrils flared with the tilt of his chin, defying Jaejoong with his bold arrogance. Junsu sobbed and buried his face into Yunho’s bare chest, unable to meet Jaejoong’s smoldering glare.
“Why are you here, Joongie-ah?” Yunho asked, his voice tight and cold. Glancing down at Junsu’s trembling body, Yunho’s concern for the younger man was obvious and Jae’s pain grew with each second that passed between them. “Answer me, Jaejoong! Tell me why you’re here and it better not be to cause Junsu any more pain. I won’t allow it. Not even from you.”