Yoochun = Sex Book Author?
Title: Sounds Like Fun
Author: anoukinparis
Genre: YooSu/JaeHo/Changmin x OC
Rating: ...R? NC-17 later?
Genre: Smut, crack, romance, humor
Summary: Yoochun decided to write a sex book. Unfortunately for the others.
A/N: Soooo. If you've read any of
junsubabyx3's stories/random posts, then you probably know by now just how crazy we are. And how we like to have insanely long sorts of "what if" conversations. Well, this was one of those. And we were talking about the boys' lives after DBSK, and how they all got married and ended up living with their respective husbands, and just the crazy little things that happen along the way.
Then I got this idea about Yoochun writing a sex book....and making everyone get involved with the process. In the form of some illustrations. Which I could totally see, personally. But anyways, it just kind of stuck. So here I am. xD
Oh, and also, Flash is a character I created for Changmin a while ago. My Susu-ah claims he's amazing. I'm pretty much in love with him. But yeah.
This is dedicated to her. Because she encouraged me to post this. <333333333
So. I’m starting this book, right?
I’ve had the idea ready for a while now. After weeks and weeks of thinking it over, going on meditative walks, staring blankly at the computer screen, hoping for the words to flourish out of me, refusing to even come to dinner certain nights (which really worried Su), my fingers finally found the keyboard. For the past few days, they haven’t stopped.
I haven’t told him exactly what I’m writing. Sometimes I just sit on our old, dilapidated couch, the one that Flash took from his dad’s basement because he didn’t want it anymore, the one that the guitarist mustered up as some humble “Glad you’re married” kind of present, and have nothing else but my laptop. I’ll be tapping away while Junsu’s at work. I’ll be tapping away when he gets home and throws his coat down on his hurry to get over to me.
I usually greet him with a kiss. Or perhaps something more involved, depending on my mood. It’s just something I do. We are married, in case you haven’t figured that out yet.
I always think that this glorious day will come, the day when Junsu comes home from work absolutely exhausted, worn out, ready to just hit the bed.…but it has yet to come.
He still has that same cheerful smile as always, bouncing around on the cushion as he fires off a storm of questions and stories and the usual randomness that makes him so endearing. And so exasperating. Sometimes he’ll talk for hours while I sit working, and I’ll nod every so often. Mhm. Oh. Yeah, of course I’m listening. Even if he gets upset, that doesn’t usually last too long. Junsu's incapable of being upset for more than five minutes anyways; it bores him too much.
“Chunnie-ahhh.”
He whines to me one night as I remain perched on my favorite spot on the couch, his attention diverted from our favorite drama and suddenly turned to me. Again. I can still hear the faint music drifting from the program on the television, a huge, swelling score. I vaguely wonder whether the two lovers have finally reunited. I wonder if this could somehow be useful for one of my chapters.
“Hm.”
Not satisfied with that response, he prods me with his finger, disturbing my thought process. I sigh, finally gazing up from my beloved book. Or soon to be book.
“What?”
“Why won't you tell me what the book is about?”
I have to smile at the innocent way he asks. His eyes peer up at me curiously, a little offended, like I'm keeping some big secret from him. And I suppose I am. But Junsu's just not ready for this kind of information...he's a fragile wife. Delicate. I must be careful with him.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” I go back to my laptop.
“But that’s so far away!”
I sigh again, though it’s more for show than anything else. It’s my disappointed sigh. The one I use when he’s meddling in things he shouldn’t be meddling in at the moment. It does the trick and he immediately stops whining. I can still see it in his eyes though.
He really does want to know.
After I finish the paragraph I had been working on, I carefully set the laptop down on the table in front of us, where his legs are now splayed out, his eyes fixed on the cheesy drama. We both love those things despite our better judgment, though if the others knew just how much time we spend watching them when we’re alone…
I think Jae would shoot us. “Alone time is the perfect time to reestablish the love that two hearts share as one. Don’t waste it!” Or something like that. Jae’s a big believer in alone time. He converted Yunho the second they became official. I have to admire the oldest for that, at least.
Even though he’s watching the two main characters, it’s obvious that Junsu isn’t paying much attention to the show. He’s still keeping his mouth shut, for me. Trying to behave, for me. I can’t really put him through such torture much longer. That’s a little too cruel, even for me. So I pull him away from the curled position he’s currently sporting on the other end of our lovely couch and simply hold him, arms draped around his shoulders. Happily, he scoots in my lap. It’s a familiar weight. One I miss when he’s away.
“How was work?”
My Junsu works at a candy store. A store occupied mostly with children, treats, and smiles. The occasional balloons. I thought it was a match made in heaven for him.
“We were really busy today,” he tells me, shaking his head as he plays with my fingers. Ah, the woes of the confectionary world. “We almost ran out of jelly beans around noon.”
I stare at him. “How can you run out of jelly beans?”
“It happens,” he shrugs, before shifting a little so he can snuggle closer to me. I don’t stop him. What’s the point it trying to stop him when I know I’ll give in anyways? It’s something I realized long ago. I rest my head thoughtfully on his own, and his automatically moves down, resting on the space between my shoulder and neck.
It’s his spot. He reminds me every so often. Sometimes with words, sometimes not. Right now he’s nuzzling my collarbone, and I roll my eyes playfully, even though he won’t be able to see.
“I’m still not going to tell you what it’s about.”
“Chunnie.”
I grin, only tightening my grip on him.
“Soon enough, Junsu babe.”
<3
“Wakeupwakeupwakeup!”
It’s a beautiful day outside, but I can’t even enjoy it with Yunho still in bed, cocooned in the sheets like some kind of hibernating animal. Really. He knows better than to have me wake up before him on a wonderful February morning like this. The icicles are framing our windows, little crystalline figures frozen into place, and the yard is sheathed with a fine dusting of snow. Pure white.
And the snowflakes keep falling as I continue to shake him. Why can’t he see I want him to enjoy this moment too? All he does is mutter something I can’t even make out, burrowing even further into the mass of blankets. If that’s even possible.
“Upupup! Come on, Yunho-ah! Greet the world!” This time I settle on ripping away all the blankets, throwing one off before he finally realizes what I’m doing. I hear a moan of protest, and his hold tightens.
“Stop, Jae.” His voice is thick with sleep and just plain laziness.
I pout, thoroughly exaserated. What did I do to get so willful a mate?
“This is impossible. You’re impossible. I have an impossible husband.”
“You’re so dramatic.” I hear him mumble from underneath the covers.
“I am not,” I huff indignantly, clutching onto the whisk I have in my hand from making pancakes just a few minutes ago. Pancakes I made specifically for my husband. And these are the thanks that I get. Ah…wait a moment. Did I leave the stovetop on…? Or did I turn it off before I left for the bedroom? Well, our bedroom, actually. Our bedroom sounds much nicer.
Ah, but I’m mad at him. Right.
And the stovetop…
He must sense the elongated pause, because I see the first glimpse of his hair start to peek out over the layers of blankets and it’s not too long before the rest of his face appears. A hand reaches up to rub his eyes slowly, and I watch him, feeling my heart flutter. I ignore the fact that I’m supposed to be mad at him. Or that he’s impossible. Which he still is. But I love him.
He seems to be regaining consciousness. Looking at me uncertainly. But I just smile, about to remind him just how much I do love him when he suddenly sniffs and comments rather sharply that something seems to be burning, and I freeze once again, rushing out of the bedroom without so much as an explanation, hitting the door on my hurry out.
As I’m in the kitchen, frantically fanning away the light smoke that’s spilling out from the plastic bowl I accidentally left on one of the burners, the telephone rings, a light, cheerful tune. I panic, not knowing what to do, but Yunho ambles in the room with his boxers on, slowly reaching the receiver and picking it up.
“Yeah?”
“Yunho!” I can’t help but scold, still fanning the smoke. “That’s no way to answer the phone!” The smoke suddenly catches in my throat. I can't stop coughing.
After giving me an odd look, Yunho only shakes his head. He moves forward to pat my back a few times.
“Hey...oh...yeah, he's just coughing...no, don't worry about it...yeah, again...he's alright...it was just a bowl this time.” Laugh. “Yeah, I remember. That was when we had to buy all new cabinets.”
I glare at him, the last few coughs coming through. I still don't know who he's talking to, but it has to be one of the others, and either way, I don't appreciate where this conversation is heading. They don't have to discuss my kitchen...malfunctions so early in the morning.
There's a long pause, and I watch as Yunho's face moves from mild amusement to one of serious confusion. Usually he only looks that perplexed when I talk with him, so I'm instantly intrigued as to what's going on. This has to be something good.
Turning off the burner with a quick flip, I scamper out of the kitchen and into the living room, picking up the only other phone we have in our small house. A lovely, small house, one I picked out myself. With Yunho's assistance of course. He likes to assist with things that I could possibly mess up.
I hop onto the couch, already smiling. “Which son am I speaking to?”
The low laugh is enough for me, yet I still warm at the mocking answer.
“Your eldest, umma.”
“Jae, what are you doing?”
I choose to ignore Yunho, settling more comfortably on the couch. “So what's going on?”
There's a silence. Not necessarily awkward. But with the possibility of becoming so.
“I need you two for something.”
I'm even more curious, and I can practically feel Yunho's hesitancy, even on the phone, even though we’re a room over from each other. But for me, they're beautiful words. Every mother wants to be needed for something, even when they let their children leave the nest to live out on their own. To start their own lives. Ah...I still like to be needed. I still like when the others call us. Yunho teases me when I get teary-eyes sometimes, but he just doesn't understand the duel burden and joy of motherhood. Regrettable.
Ah, I shouldn’t get so carried away on the phone…
“Anything you need,” I say when Yunho seems reluctant to talk. “Yunho and I will-“
“Jae,” my husband interjects.
“No, wait a moment!”
“He wants us to-"
“You were saying, umma?”
“Well, I was going to say that-“
“Jae.”
“You should let your wife speak for herself, Yunho.”
“Thank you! I mean...wait, what did you just say?”
“Nothing. I love you.”
“Ah, I love you too!”
“Jaejoong, can you just stop and listen to me?”
“…What is it?”
“…He wants us to pose for pictures in his sex book.”
“. . .”
“. . .”
“. . .”
“That sounds like fun!”
Yoochun just laughs. Yunho doesn't say anything at all, but I hear the familiar sounds of him choking slightly from inside the kitchen. He does that when he's not expecting something. The wife in me flutters to the surface, and I hurry to care for him. Forgetting about the icicles and the pure snow and the beautiful day.
I always loved how Yoochun was so avid about literature.
<3
YunJae is a go.
And now all I have to reel in is Changmin and his own husband before things can really get started. But I have the feeling Flash won’t be too hard to convince. He’s young, after all. And I can only imagine what’s become of all those videos Changmin used to watch by himself. Maybe it's just best to leave it at that.
Well.
Let the fun begin.
Author: anoukinparis
Genre: YooSu/JaeHo/Changmin x OC
Rating: ...R? NC-17 later?
Genre: Smut, crack, romance, humor
Summary: Yoochun decided to write a sex book. Unfortunately for the others.
A/N: Soooo. If you've read any of
junsubabyx3's stories/random posts, then you probably know by now just how crazy we are. And how we like to have insanely long sorts of "what if" conversations. Well, this was one of those. And we were talking about the boys' lives after DBSK, and how they all got married and ended up living with their respective husbands, and just the crazy little things that happen along the way.
Then I got this idea about Yoochun writing a sex book....and making everyone get involved with the process. In the form of some illustrations. Which I could totally see, personally. But anyways, it just kind of stuck. So here I am. xD
Oh, and also, Flash is a character I created for Changmin a while ago. My Susu-ah claims he's amazing. I'm pretty much in love with him. But yeah.
This is dedicated to her. Because she encouraged me to post this. <333333333
So. I’m starting this book, right?
I’ve had the idea ready for a while now. After weeks and weeks of thinking it over, going on meditative walks, staring blankly at the computer screen, hoping for the words to flourish out of me, refusing to even come to dinner certain nights (which really worried Su), my fingers finally found the keyboard. For the past few days, they haven’t stopped.
I haven’t told him exactly what I’m writing. Sometimes I just sit on our old, dilapidated couch, the one that Flash took from his dad’s basement because he didn’t want it anymore, the one that the guitarist mustered up as some humble “Glad you’re married” kind of present, and have nothing else but my laptop. I’ll be tapping away while Junsu’s at work. I’ll be tapping away when he gets home and throws his coat down on his hurry to get over to me.
I usually greet him with a kiss. Or perhaps something more involved, depending on my mood. It’s just something I do. We are married, in case you haven’t figured that out yet.
I always think that this glorious day will come, the day when Junsu comes home from work absolutely exhausted, worn out, ready to just hit the bed.…but it has yet to come.
He still has that same cheerful smile as always, bouncing around on the cushion as he fires off a storm of questions and stories and the usual randomness that makes him so endearing. And so exasperating. Sometimes he’ll talk for hours while I sit working, and I’ll nod every so often. Mhm. Oh. Yeah, of course I’m listening. Even if he gets upset, that doesn’t usually last too long. Junsu's incapable of being upset for more than five minutes anyways; it bores him too much.
“Chunnie-ahhh.”
He whines to me one night as I remain perched on my favorite spot on the couch, his attention diverted from our favorite drama and suddenly turned to me. Again. I can still hear the faint music drifting from the program on the television, a huge, swelling score. I vaguely wonder whether the two lovers have finally reunited. I wonder if this could somehow be useful for one of my chapters.
“Hm.”
Not satisfied with that response, he prods me with his finger, disturbing my thought process. I sigh, finally gazing up from my beloved book. Or soon to be book.
“What?”
“Why won't you tell me what the book is about?”
I have to smile at the innocent way he asks. His eyes peer up at me curiously, a little offended, like I'm keeping some big secret from him. And I suppose I am. But Junsu's just not ready for this kind of information...he's a fragile wife. Delicate. I must be careful with him.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” I go back to my laptop.
“But that’s so far away!”
I sigh again, though it’s more for show than anything else. It’s my disappointed sigh. The one I use when he’s meddling in things he shouldn’t be meddling in at the moment. It does the trick and he immediately stops whining. I can still see it in his eyes though.
He really does want to know.
After I finish the paragraph I had been working on, I carefully set the laptop down on the table in front of us, where his legs are now splayed out, his eyes fixed on the cheesy drama. We both love those things despite our better judgment, though if the others knew just how much time we spend watching them when we’re alone…
I think Jae would shoot us. “Alone time is the perfect time to reestablish the love that two hearts share as one. Don’t waste it!” Or something like that. Jae’s a big believer in alone time. He converted Yunho the second they became official. I have to admire the oldest for that, at least.
Even though he’s watching the two main characters, it’s obvious that Junsu isn’t paying much attention to the show. He’s still keeping his mouth shut, for me. Trying to behave, for me. I can’t really put him through such torture much longer. That’s a little too cruel, even for me. So I pull him away from the curled position he’s currently sporting on the other end of our lovely couch and simply hold him, arms draped around his shoulders. Happily, he scoots in my lap. It’s a familiar weight. One I miss when he’s away.
“How was work?”
My Junsu works at a candy store. A store occupied mostly with children, treats, and smiles. The occasional balloons. I thought it was a match made in heaven for him.
“We were really busy today,” he tells me, shaking his head as he plays with my fingers. Ah, the woes of the confectionary world. “We almost ran out of jelly beans around noon.”
I stare at him. “How can you run out of jelly beans?”
“It happens,” he shrugs, before shifting a little so he can snuggle closer to me. I don’t stop him. What’s the point it trying to stop him when I know I’ll give in anyways? It’s something I realized long ago. I rest my head thoughtfully on his own, and his automatically moves down, resting on the space between my shoulder and neck.
It’s his spot. He reminds me every so often. Sometimes with words, sometimes not. Right now he’s nuzzling my collarbone, and I roll my eyes playfully, even though he won’t be able to see.
“I’m still not going to tell you what it’s about.”
“Chunnie.”
I grin, only tightening my grip on him.
“Soon enough, Junsu babe.”
<3
“Wakeupwakeupwakeup!”
It’s a beautiful day outside, but I can’t even enjoy it with Yunho still in bed, cocooned in the sheets like some kind of hibernating animal. Really. He knows better than to have me wake up before him on a wonderful February morning like this. The icicles are framing our windows, little crystalline figures frozen into place, and the yard is sheathed with a fine dusting of snow. Pure white.
And the snowflakes keep falling as I continue to shake him. Why can’t he see I want him to enjoy this moment too? All he does is mutter something I can’t even make out, burrowing even further into the mass of blankets. If that’s even possible.
“Upupup! Come on, Yunho-ah! Greet the world!” This time I settle on ripping away all the blankets, throwing one off before he finally realizes what I’m doing. I hear a moan of protest, and his hold tightens.
“Stop, Jae.” His voice is thick with sleep and just plain laziness.
I pout, thoroughly exaserated. What did I do to get so willful a mate?
“This is impossible. You’re impossible. I have an impossible husband.”
“You’re so dramatic.” I hear him mumble from underneath the covers.
“I am not,” I huff indignantly, clutching onto the whisk I have in my hand from making pancakes just a few minutes ago. Pancakes I made specifically for my husband. And these are the thanks that I get. Ah…wait a moment. Did I leave the stovetop on…? Or did I turn it off before I left for the bedroom? Well, our bedroom, actually. Our bedroom sounds much nicer.
Ah, but I’m mad at him. Right.
And the stovetop…
He must sense the elongated pause, because I see the first glimpse of his hair start to peek out over the layers of blankets and it’s not too long before the rest of his face appears. A hand reaches up to rub his eyes slowly, and I watch him, feeling my heart flutter. I ignore the fact that I’m supposed to be mad at him. Or that he’s impossible. Which he still is. But I love him.
He seems to be regaining consciousness. Looking at me uncertainly. But I just smile, about to remind him just how much I do love him when he suddenly sniffs and comments rather sharply that something seems to be burning, and I freeze once again, rushing out of the bedroom without so much as an explanation, hitting the door on my hurry out.
As I’m in the kitchen, frantically fanning away the light smoke that’s spilling out from the plastic bowl I accidentally left on one of the burners, the telephone rings, a light, cheerful tune. I panic, not knowing what to do, but Yunho ambles in the room with his boxers on, slowly reaching the receiver and picking it up.
“Yeah?”
“Yunho!” I can’t help but scold, still fanning the smoke. “That’s no way to answer the phone!” The smoke suddenly catches in my throat. I can't stop coughing.
After giving me an odd look, Yunho only shakes his head. He moves forward to pat my back a few times.
“Hey...oh...yeah, he's just coughing...no, don't worry about it...yeah, again...he's alright...it was just a bowl this time.” Laugh. “Yeah, I remember. That was when we had to buy all new cabinets.”
I glare at him, the last few coughs coming through. I still don't know who he's talking to, but it has to be one of the others, and either way, I don't appreciate where this conversation is heading. They don't have to discuss my kitchen...malfunctions so early in the morning.
There's a long pause, and I watch as Yunho's face moves from mild amusement to one of serious confusion. Usually he only looks that perplexed when I talk with him, so I'm instantly intrigued as to what's going on. This has to be something good.
Turning off the burner with a quick flip, I scamper out of the kitchen and into the living room, picking up the only other phone we have in our small house. A lovely, small house, one I picked out myself. With Yunho's assistance of course. He likes to assist with things that I could possibly mess up.
I hop onto the couch, already smiling. “Which son am I speaking to?”
The low laugh is enough for me, yet I still warm at the mocking answer.
“Your eldest, umma.”
“Jae, what are you doing?”
I choose to ignore Yunho, settling more comfortably on the couch. “So what's going on?”
There's a silence. Not necessarily awkward. But with the possibility of becoming so.
“I need you two for something.”
I'm even more curious, and I can practically feel Yunho's hesitancy, even on the phone, even though we’re a room over from each other. But for me, they're beautiful words. Every mother wants to be needed for something, even when they let their children leave the nest to live out on their own. To start their own lives. Ah...I still like to be needed. I still like when the others call us. Yunho teases me when I get teary-eyes sometimes, but he just doesn't understand the duel burden and joy of motherhood. Regrettable.
Ah, I shouldn’t get so carried away on the phone…
“Anything you need,” I say when Yunho seems reluctant to talk. “Yunho and I will-“
“Jae,” my husband interjects.
“No, wait a moment!”
“He wants us to-"
“You were saying, umma?”
“Well, I was going to say that-“
“Jae.”
“You should let your wife speak for herself, Yunho.”
“Thank you! I mean...wait, what did you just say?”
“Nothing. I love you.”
“Ah, I love you too!”
“Jaejoong, can you just stop and listen to me?”
“…What is it?”
“…He wants us to pose for pictures in his sex book.”
“. . .”
“. . .”
“. . .”
“That sounds like fun!”
Yoochun just laughs. Yunho doesn't say anything at all, but I hear the familiar sounds of him choking slightly from inside the kitchen. He does that when he's not expecting something. The wife in me flutters to the surface, and I hurry to care for him. Forgetting about the icicles and the pure snow and the beautiful day.
I always loved how Yoochun was so avid about literature.
<3
YunJae is a go.
And now all I have to reel in is Changmin and his own husband before things can really get started. But I have the feeling Flash won’t be too hard to convince. He’s young, after all. And I can only imagine what’s become of all those videos Changmin used to watch by himself. Maybe it's just best to leave it at that.
Well.
Let the fun begin.