this is for bardou who wanted YooSu angst.
Rating: NC-17ish for this section. Just a little bit.
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, Six, Se7en (heh)
“What are you doing?” Changmin stiffened, feeling Se7en’s hands on his hips. The other man’s fingers were quick, tracing along the hem of Min’s shirt with a light scrape of his fingernails on Changmin’s skin. “Stop that!”
“Look,” Se7en murmured in the younger man’s ear. “We’re stuck here, in the dark with nothing else to do but talk to one another, sleep or have sex. I know what I’d prefer to do.”
“I’m guessing sleep.” Min said, shoving Se7en back with a sharp jab from his elbow. “It’s very late and you’re old. You need your rest.”
“Ouch,” Se7en gasped, sucking air back into his lungs and rubbing at his ribs. “No, actually I was going to say we could get under the covers and watch the lightning outside. Turn around and look at the sky, Minku. Just turn around.”
Changmin let Se7en grip his shoulders and turn him back towards the window. With the city darkened and still, the storm moved in with a thunderous fury, throwing spears of forked light from the underbellies of rolling clouds. The strikes illuminated the foggy clusters, the heavy canopies crevices and nooks cast in shadow by the bright blue streaks.
“Oh, they look like those flowers… the white ones. Nogiku. No, that’s the wrong word; Shirotaegiku.” Min struggled to find the phrase he wanted. “The pom pom chrysanthemums. What are they called?”
“I think it is just kiku.” Se7en said, drawing Min away from the window. “Sometimes, it’s the simplest things that mean the most, Minku. Don’t go looking for unicorns when there is a beautiful horse right in front of you.”
His hands strayed to Min’s waist and the young man stopped him, grabbing Se7en’s fingers.
“Don’t.” He wanted to sound fierce but he trembled under the other man’s touch and the word sounded more like a begging plea than a command.
“I’m not going to do anything, Minku,” Se7en said, gently kissing the curve of Min’s graceful neck. “We don’t have any spare clothes in that magical Poppins bag of yours and you know you can’t sleep in jeans. Trust me, baby.”
Even in the dark, Min could see the sincerity in Se7en’s face and he sighed, relaxing into the man’s embrace.
“I’ll be good, baby. I promise.” He unbuttoned Min’s jeans, sliding them down the young man’s hips, careful not to let the distracted singer fall when Min’s attention was caught by another burst of lightning. Changmin’s shirt followed and Se7en gently pushed him back onto the bed, pulling out the covers and tucking them over Min’s hips. He quickly shed his own clothes, leaving on his boxers and ordered, “Stay there. I’m going to see what the mini-bar has to drink and eat.”
“It’s like fireworks,” Clad only in his briefs, Changmin gasped in awe and pulled a pillow down to tuck under his chin. Laying on his stomach, he stretched out diagonally across the mattress, fitting his tall body as comfortably on the bed as possible. “Flowery fireworks.”
“Move over, giraffe,” Se7en lightly slapped Min’s calf. “The bed’s long enough to hold you.”
“I didn’t check,” Changmin mumbled, then frowned at Se7en’s boldness. His vision adjusted to the darkness and the other man’s features were as saturnine as always. “I’m still pissed off at you. I should make you sleep on the floor.”
“Hardly fair considering I’m paying for the room,” He reminded the young man as he handed him a chilled can. “Here, there wasn’t a great selection but there’s arare and cold beer.”
Sitting up, Min popped the can open and took a sip, choking on the acrid burn searing his throat. “What is that? That’s not beer.”
“Let me see,” He tentatively sipped at his drink and gasped, exhaling hard. “Wow, that’s strong. I don’t think I can feel my mouth but it’s not bad once you get past the first sip.”
“What is this?” Changmin held the can up close to his face, angling it so its silver lettering caught the light from the clouds. “Oolong tea shochu. I think it says that.”
“Mine doesn’t taste like tea, more like orange,” Se7en offered his can to Min. “Here, we can trade. I know you like oranges.”
Changmin traded, ducking his head as he tucked a sheet around his bare legs and hips. “I can’t believe you remembered I like oranges.”
“I remember everything about you,” Se7en said, joining the man on the bed. Wrapping the light blanket from under the duvet around Min’s shoulders, he tucked himself up against the younger man’s back. The room was growing colder, the lack of power taking out the hotel’s heating units and Se7en shivered, dragging the duvet around to wrap around them both.
Pulling a slightly resistant Min against him, he took another drink and murmured, “I know you like to be kissed behind your right ear but not your left but that you like your left earlobe nibbled on.”
“Aish, you shouldn’t talk about those kinds of things!” Min half-turned and gave Se7en a glaring look. “Mad at you, remember?”
“Your mad looks a lot like surrendering,” Se7en murmured, cradling the man closer. “And besides, I promised I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”
“You did,” Min nodded.
Kissing Changmin soundly on the mouth, Se7en pulled away before the younger man could do anything but sputter. “But, luckily, I never said anything about stopping you from taking advantage of me.”
“You’re drunk,” Junsu stammered, shoving Yoochun away quickly. The man grunted and grimaced in pain, much to Junsu’s regret. Reaching for the other man, he peeled off the remnants of Yoochun’s shirt and grabbed the forgotten ice pack. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” Yoochun panted, exhaling out short breaths to cut the pain. “The more I hurt, the less drunk I get.”
“What did you do?” He asked, lightly trailing a long line of purple running sideways on Yoochun’s ribs. “It looks like someone beat you.”
“I told you. I fell when I got out of the cab and hit the curb.” Yoochun twisted away from Junsu’s finger, a giggle erupting from his wide mouth. “God, I’m ticklish. Stop that! You know I’m ticklish.”
“Changmin once told me that ticklish people are just inhibited.”
“That sounds like something our little professor would say,” Yoochun agreed. “And he’s very ticklish so what does that say about him?”
“That he’s lying?” Junsu looked away from Yoochun’s kissable lips and focused on holding the ice pack on his friend’s torso. “Jaejoong is ticklish and I can’t think of anyone less inhibited that him.”
“Joongie-ah is very shy,” Yoochun countered. “He hates it when people he doesn’t know touch him.”
“Is that because he’s inhibited or because of how life was from…before?” A shadow filled Junsu’s dark eyes as he remembered the life their lead singer led on the streets before becoming a star.
“I don’t know,” The other man admitted. “He doesn’t mind us touching him so I guess we’ll be the ones who have to keep him hugged and safe.”
The resolute look on Yoochun’s handsome face made Junsu smile. Of the three of them, Yoochun held their dreams and Jaejoong, surprisingly, held them together. Junsu could only hope he brought something as strong to their three but in his heart, he felt he contributed chaos to their already complicated lives.
“Susu-ah,” Yoochun murmured, jarring Junsu from his thoughts with a hand to the tenor’s face. “Why are you looking so sad?”
“I… messed everything up.” His breath caught in his chest and a deep pain lodged in his heart. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. When there was the five of us… everything was so simple… it was just…”
“Easier,” Yoochun interjected and cupped the back of Junsu’s head when the other man nodded. Tears shimmered on Junsu’s lashes and Yoochun bit his lip, drawing the singer down to his naked chest. “It’s okay, Junsu. We’re going to be okay.”
“How are we going to be okay?” Junsu hiccupped and shivered when he realized the makeshift ice pack was trapped between them. Yoochun arched slightly so Junsu could dig it out and laughed when it hit the floor in a bursting shower of ice cubes.
The singer lifted up to pick them up but Yoochun held him tightly. “Leave it. It’s water. It’ll just melt.”
“The hyung-duel will say you peed the floor or something. You know how they are,” Junsu laughed. “Don’t make me laugh. I am sad.”
“That’s how I know we’ll be okay… that we are okay, Susu-ah,” Yoochun said, brushing a kiss over the other man’s forehead. “Because I can still make you laugh. As long as you laugh and smile, we’ll have light to see our way in all of this darkness.”
Junsu swallowed his retort, lost in the warmth of Yoochun’s expression. His words left him completely when the other man’s mouth descended and stole a kiss.
Chilled from the ice, the fire of Yoochun’s mouth caught Junsu by surprise and he gasped, opening his lips for Yoochun to plunder. A lick of the man’s tongue against the roof of his mouth set Junsu into a moaning writhe, and he groaned appreciatively when Yoochun’s hands found his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed.
Straddling Junsu’s body, Yoochun settled his weight on his knees and hands. Letting the length of his body pin Junsu to the mattress, he took his time discovering the pleasures of the other man’s mouth, savouring each delicate lap of his tongue on Junsu’s parted lips. There were delectable areas of Junsu’s body that he longed to explore but he couldn’t bring himself to break away from the young man’s mouth. The texture of Junsu’s tongue on his kept Yoochun coming back for more, needing to plunge and dance his tongue around Junsu’s mouth until both were gasping for air.
Taking a breath, Yoochun moved in for another kiss, savouring the small dimple at the corner of Junsu’s mouth before nibbling along the bottom full bow with tiny nips of his teeth. Junsu’s hands lifted up from the bed, his fingers marked with lines where he’d tightly gripped the sheets around them. Yoochun’s shoulders flexed and Junsu moaned when he felt the man’s muscles move under his palms. The press of Yoochun’s stomach felt good, even better when the friction warmed their skin and when Junsu felt the length of the other man’s arousal through their clothes, his own sex twitched and hardened in response.
Moving slowly down Junsu’s throat, Yoochun bit at the curve of the man’s neck and collarbone. Rolling the meat of his bite between his teeth, Yoochun began to tease Junsu’s skin with the flat of his tongue, pausing to flick the tip over the stimulated area until Junsu gasped and begged for release.
“Chunnie, too much,” Junsu moaned, unable to bring himself to let go of the man’s upper arms. He blinked, focusing on Yoochun’s too-close face and blushed, seeing the arousal he’d brought to the other man’s eyes. The flesh on Yoochun’s shoulders were burned red with long marks, left from Junsu’s grasping fingers and Junsu felt his face go hotter when the baritone lifted one knee and nudged Junsu’s legs apart. Shifting, Junsu struggled with his desire for a second when Yoochun placed his knee down on the mattress between Junsu’s thighs and bent forward, covering Junsu again with the weight of his body.
Yoochun’s taste lingered on Junsu’s tongue, the other man’s masculine tang subtly mingled with the spice of ume sake and Junsu gulped hard, swallowing the flavour down. A smoky heat began to burn in his belly and he felt the head of his sex swell in his sweatpants, a drop of moisture beading up to soak into the fabric.
“I want to taste you, Susu-ah,” Yoochun whispered.
“The… hyung-duel…” Junsu’s eyes fluttered and he turned his head, worriedly staring at the bedroom door. “They could come in…and…”
“Just a little taste, Susu,” The man pleaded. “Anything else… I’d want to take my time with you. That’s not for here. Not for us.”
Junsu nearly screamed when Yoochun slid down his body and settled his mouth over the small damp spot of his sweats. Nearly jerking up off the mattress, Junsu whimpered when Yoochun pushed him back down with the heel of his hands on his hips and held him there. Unable to squirm away, Junsu gasped again and dug his fingernails into Yoochun’s back when the man’s teeth found the ridge of his sex hidden under his cotton pants.
“Yoochun…Chunnie-ah, please…” Junsu begged. “I can’t…take.”
“You don’t have to take,” Yoochun murmured, licking at the length of Junsu’s erection, the rub of the cloth on the man’s sex setting every nerve to a ripened tingle. “Just let me…give. Hold onto the sheets, Susu-ah. I want to blow more than your mind.”
Junsu dropped his hands to the linens, finding them loose enough to wrap his wrists in. With Yoochun’s incessant weight on his hips, he wriggled uncontrollably as Yoochun’s lips began a slow investigation of his sex. The sweatpants chafed at his erection, burning the tip when he moved. Panting heavily, he signed in relief when Yoochun’s fingers hooked into his waistband and tugged his sweats down just low enough for his erection to spring free.
Already hard and needy, Junsu’s sex pearled when Yoochun gripped him. Curled about slightly, Junsu watched with heavily lidded eyes as Yoochun slid the hood of skin from Junsu’s damp head, the scant roll nearly peeled back with the stiffness of the man’s shaft. Smearing the milky fluid with his thumb, Yoochun brought the drop to his lips, lapping at the salty essence with a dab of his tongue.
“Chun…not going…” Junsu leaned his head back, his eyes rolling when Yoochun swallowed him. The brief suck of Yoochun’s mouth was followed by a dipping plunge toward the man’s throat and Junsu felt himself being engulfed. “God… Chun….”
A hum started in Yoochun’s throat and the vibrations reverberated up Junsu’s shaft and buried down deep into his balls. The sound continued, rippling sensations up and down the man’s groin before spreading out to fill his body. When Yoochun’s fingers scraped hard nails over Junsu’s tight nipples, he lost control and began to empty into Yoochun’s mouth. A darkness took him over for a moment then exploded away into a spray of brilliant lights. His balls spiraled up, nearly painfully tight against his body and he gave into the blast, spilling another coil of seed past his lover’s lips.
After licking Junsu clean, Yoochun curved his arm around the young man’s hips, lifting him up enough to pull his pants up. Sliding both of them up to the top of the bed, the baritone lay Junsu back on the pillows and covered their entwined bodies with the sex-warmed bed linens.
“Sleepy, Chunnie-ah,” Junsu murmured, his energy spent and swallowed into Yoochun’s mouth. “Love you, agi. I always have, you know. I’ve loved you so much and for so long.”
“I know now, Susu-baby,” Yoochun gave Junsu a gentle kiss and the tenor smiled, liking the taste of his sex joined with Yoochun’s tangy flavour. “Let the hyung-duel find some place else to sleep. This is our bed now.”
The door closed firmly with a ferocious kick of Junsu’s foot and Yunho glared at Jaejoong, shouting at the top of his lungs. “Is this what you want? Huh? Are you happy now? Do you think you caught me cheating on you? How the hell can I cheat on you when I’m not even fucking you?”
“Not like I ever felt you fucking me when you were,” Jaejoong screamed back, looking about for something to throw. His eyes caught on a small swoop of metal the hotel’s interior designer placed in the middle of the coffee table as an accent piece. Grabbing at the sculpture, he raised it above his shoulder. “Fucking son of a bitch!”
“Hey!” Yunho looked alarmed and held up his hands in surrender. Dropping his voice down to a whisper, he said, “Listen! The door’s closed and I don’t think I can hear them any more.”
Jaejoong froze, poised in mid-attack and cocked his head, listening keenly. The quiet in the room was soon drowned out by the sound of the thickening storm and the rain coming down outside. Holding his breath, Jae whispered back, “I can’t hear them either.”
Yunho stepped closer to the bedroom, cautioning Jaejoong back with a hasty wave of his hand. Crossing back to Jaejoong, he took the sculpture from the singer’s hand and placed it carefully back on the table. Hooking his fingers into Jae’s waistband, he tugged the other man towards the door only to be stopped short when Jae dug his heels in.
“Come on! I think they believed us,” Yunho hissed, motioning towards the entrance. “I’ve got shoes and some clothes in the hall closet.”
“I’m not your dog,” Jae muttered, stalking away to the door. “Don’t pull at me.”
“It would be easier if you were my dog,” Yunho grumbled to Jaejoong’s back. “You’d obey me like you’re supposed to.”
Jaejoong stood with his arms crossed while Yunho got dressed, averting his eyes when the other man took off his sweats and pulled on his jeans. Tucking his hotel key card into his pocket, Yunho grabbed a jacket out of the closet and held it out to Jaejoong to wear.
“Put this on. It’s raining outside. You’ll get wet,” He said, grabbing another jacket from a hanger. When the first jacket remained in his hand, he turned around and stared at Jaejoong. “Now what?”
“Just because we agreed to help Junsu and Yoochun patch things up,” Jaejoong said coldly. “Doesn’t mean that we’re… okay. You and I… we’re not… we’re done, Yunho. After everything that’s happened, I don’t think there’s anything that can be said to fix it.”
“That’s what I want to try to do, Joongie-ah,” Yunho replied, shoving the jacket over Jaejoong’s crossed arms. “Put it on and let’s find someplace that’s open and private so we can talk. It’s the least we can do for each other, baby. After all of this time, aren’t we worth at least one more conversation? At least one more damned chance?”