2pm; Just Married {taecyeon/junsu}
Just Married
Taecyeon and Junsu wake up with no recollection of what happened the night before.
Taecyeon/Junsu; nc-17; 2,035 words.
→ written for the kinkmeme.
Taecyeon wakes up first, his cheek pressed up against the window of some strange car with his own drool running down his arm. He squints against the light peering in from outside the tinted glass and clenches them shut as it glints off the ring on his finger.
His head feels like someone put a sledgehammer to it, and the headache is only helped along by the sunlight. He rolls over, sliding partially off the leather seats, and his fingernails drag along the surface of it. It’s then that he realizes that the white tuxedo blazer he’s wearing is all that he’s wearing, and it’s crumpled and stained with some kind of purple wine, and he’s in a limousine.
The bill calculates inside of his head and enters the astronomical price range but he keeps himself calm, steady, until he really looks at the ring, and notices the ridiculous looking diamond sparkling at him from the middle of the ring. It’s big and bulky and utterly girly, and not to mention expensive. He finds his boxers on top of the tiny basketball hoop and pulls them up his long legs, giving up his search for pants and sits back hard against the leather, the skin on the back of his legs making a horrible squelching noise as he does so.
“What the fuck,” he spits in English, because no matter how much he tries, he can’t get past the pain or the urge to dry heave to remember what exactly happened last night. That’s when he hears a groan from under the freaking table in the middle of the limousine. There’s a horrible slam as whoever it is hits his head against the underside and rolls out from underneath.
It’s Junsu, looking ridiculously pathetic as he holds his head and pulls himself out from underneath the table with nothing but boxers and a black tie around his neck, and Taecyeon can’t help but notice the ring that matches his on his ring finger.
“What happened?” he croaks, his voice hoarse as though he’d been yelling all night long. He peeks through his fingers and peers at Taecyeon through the light. “Where’d we get the limo?” He’s immediately full of questions that Taecyeon can’t voice as he pulls himself onto the seat opposite him and raps on the window to the driver side. No one answers, and he shrugs his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck.
“My back hurts,” Junsu groans, sitting back in the seat and kicking his feet under the table. His toes come back out with a suit jacket that’s white just like Taecyeon’s, with a little crumpled flower still in the little front pocket and a paper sticking out of one of the other pockets. He pulls out the paper and pulls it open, his brow furrowed.
Taecyeon’s still staring at the ring on his finger and trying to form thought past the pounding in his head when Junsu’s eyes go wide as saucers. It’d look kind of comical, but it quickly turns from shock to horror. He sits up straight, forgetting the pain in his back.
“Oh god,” Junsu’s voice sounds kind of like a dying seal, or what Taecyeon would expect them to sound like. He turns the paper over with shaking hands, and Taecyeon reads the large print.
It takes him a minute to realize what he’s reading, because his head just hurts that much.
It’s a marriage certificate, and Taecyeon reads the names on it seven times just to make sure, and just in case, he reads the small English print. You can never be too careful. Then he reads it out loud because he still doesn’t believe it. His elbows hit his knees hard as he leans forward. “This is the official marriage certificate of Ock Taecyeon and Kim Junsu, married August 27, 2011.”
“Oh my god,” Junsu repeats, and it’s kind of like a mantra, because it continues through Taecyeon’s head until all he can see is pictures from last night, of the drinks, and the jewelry shop with the rings, and Chansung eating the cake.
“Nichkhun was best man,” Taecyeon mutters, and then he laughs like it’s the most hysterical thing in the universe. He wipes his hand over his face and feels the cold of the metal band on his finger. He bites it idly.
“Don’t do that!” Junsu cries, nearly falling over the coffee table to rip Taecyeon’s hand out of his mouth. The diamond nearly cuts his lip and Junsu’s hand ends up falling ridiculously close to Taecyeon’s tender parts on the seat. At this angle he can see how swollen Junsu’s lips look and it’s kind of frightening to think that maybe, just maybe, they did something else that night.
Suddenly the air in the limo is way too stifling. Regardless of his lack of decent clothes, Taecyeon pushes Junsu away with rough hands on his shoulders and lets him fall onto the table. He escapes into open air and puts one foot down - right on Wooyoung’s face.
He falls in a heap, and curls up, pulling his jacket over his head. He had to of been drugged. All of them, because there’s no way he could marry Junsu, because he’s not a girl for one, and he’s not sexually attracted to him, and he’s pretty sure he’d pick one of the members with better self esteem if he had to marry one of them.
“Ouch, what the hell,” Wooyoung is swearing at him in every language he knows (which isn’t a very impressive number, although Taecyeon was pretty sure the one he didn’t understand was Thai). Taecyeon peaks at him from under his jacket and ends up hiding again because the sun is way too bright.
“What happened last night?” Junsu asks Wooyoung, and Taecyeon can imagine him poking his head out of the door of the limo.
“Uh, you got married?” There’s the unmistakable sound of Wooyoung being walloped in the head. “Okay, okay.” Wooyoung pauses. Taecyeon’s pretty sure he’s taking a glance at his ass, which is still in the air. “You guys had a wild, uncontrollable lovemaking session in the limo?”
There isn’t the sound of a beating this time, but Taecyeon’s not sure he’d hear it anyways, because everything coherent inside of him has pooled in the center of his gut like liquid lava. He feels it make it’s way up his throat and he barely has time to move the ridiculously expensive suit coat before he’s upchucking whatever ungodly food they ate for their wedding reception last night.
His wedding reception.
He sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t do this,” Taecyeon moans. Reruns of Nichkhun’s ‘We Got Married’ flash through his head, except a lot darker and definitely not so happy. With Junsu’s voice nagging in his ear.
“Right,” Wooyoung is on his feet now, and Taecyeon finally realizes they’re in a field. In the middle of nowhere in the universe. “We should probably take the limo back. And the suits.”
“Maybe not the suits,” Junsu says at the same time that Taecyeon says “and the marriage.”
Wooyoung is the acting chauffeur because he drew the short straw, and Junsu and Taecyeon find the rest of their clothes under their seats and the smell of alcohol mixed with sweat and, bodily fluids is enough to make Taecyeon figure they might as well keep the suits.
They sit together side by side in silence in the back of the spacious limo, and Taecyeon props his feet up on the coffee table. Junsu has been playing with the ring on his finger, and budges at his feet until they fall down.
“Don’t put your feet up there,” he nags, which is funny because Taecyeon distinctly remembers Junsu crawling all over it, but he doesn’t say it.
“Stop playing with the ring, it’s going to break,” he shoots back instead.
Junsu rolls his eyes. “It’s a thirteen hundred diamond ring. I can play with it if I want.” He huffs, and glares at Taecyeon’s tie. “Fix your tie, it’s crooked.”
“I don’t like it tight. Your fly’s undone.”
“My ass hurts. Didn’t we have lube?”
“We didn’t do anything! Stop whining!”
“I’m whining? F’real?”
“Did you just say F’real?” Taecyeon laughs, passing a finger over his mouth and chewing on his fingernail. Junsu doesn’t bother nagging this time, instead dragging it away and sticking it in his mouth as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
It triggers something inside of him, some sort of repressed feeling that erupted inside of him like a nuclear bomb that destroyed the confusion and obliterated the embarrassment of finding out he’d just married one of his best friends. Whatever it was, he’d felt it last night when he’d gotten the idea in his head and proposed, and when he’d gotten up on that altar and said “I do,” even though he was leaning on Nichkhun because he couldn’t see straight and even though he’d ended up kissing Junsu on the nose instead of the mouth. He was pretty sure he was a lot more calm about this whole thing than he should have been.
And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, because Junsu’s mouth is wet and his tongue is kind of rough, but it’s also warm, and he kind of likes the slick of his saliva. He leans towards Junsu in the seat and pulls his finger out of his mouth, sliding it over towards his earring and not halting even when his ring gets stuck in Junsu’s hair.
His mouth is soft as he thought it’d be, and when he kisses him, he also slides his other hand down to his open fly and slips them up against his boxers. Junsu’s tongue feels as good in his mouth as his finger did, and it’s not even surprising when Taecyeon falls over him and ends up pressing Junsu down into the seat as though he’d done it before.
He finds a lovebite on his neck, and doesn’t hesitate to fit his mouth over the mark, sucking and biting at the flesh. And when he pulls off their pants, it’s almost natural, the way they fall to the floor. Junsu’s breath smells really bad, like coffee beans mixed with alcohol, but he likes it the same way he likes fitting his hand over his dick and stroking it until it’s hard.
He’s pleasantly surprised by the way Junsu’s hips rise to meet him, and he’s not sure he’s ever been this attracted to him before. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know why, but somehow he’s climaxing inside of him within ten minutes and he probably shouldn’t of cleaned up Junsu’s come on his abs with his shirt, but he didn’t have anything else.
“I don’t really know what’s going on,” Junsu’s saying to him. “I don’t even remember last night, but I have all these weird feelings and it feels nice and I don’t really-“ Taecyeon grabs his hand and he stops talking, shut up by all of the feelings that Taecyeon’s trying to project - or maybe he just realizes that Taecyeon’s just thought of this exact same thing.
“I don’t really remember it either,” he lies and kisses him again.
He’s groggy and he’s forgotten all about his headache when the limo comes to a halt. They pull on their clothes and Taecyeon’s careful to straighten his tie before he leaves. The limousine goes back, and after a thorough dry-cleaning, so do the suits. But the rings stay, and they glimmer and catch the light of cameras onstage, and when the members catch them together, there’s usually loud hooting involved. But they aren’t really mushy or obvious.
But he can’t really help it if he gravitates towards Junsu’s side when they’re doing interviews, and sometimes there’s not enough space, so their hands brush once or twice. Their marriage is more one of nagging, and even Nichkhun is amazed that they decided to stay together. It’s worth it, though, when he wakes up in the middle of the night with Junsu’s foul breath on his neck and his hair in his face.
Taecyeon and Junsu wake up with no recollection of what happened the night before.
Taecyeon/Junsu; nc-17; 2,035 words.
→ written for the kinkmeme.
Taecyeon wakes up first, his cheek pressed up against the window of some strange car with his own drool running down his arm. He squints against the light peering in from outside the tinted glass and clenches them shut as it glints off the ring on his finger.
His head feels like someone put a sledgehammer to it, and the headache is only helped along by the sunlight. He rolls over, sliding partially off the leather seats, and his fingernails drag along the surface of it. It’s then that he realizes that the white tuxedo blazer he’s wearing is all that he’s wearing, and it’s crumpled and stained with some kind of purple wine, and he’s in a limousine.
The bill calculates inside of his head and enters the astronomical price range but he keeps himself calm, steady, until he really looks at the ring, and notices the ridiculous looking diamond sparkling at him from the middle of the ring. It’s big and bulky and utterly girly, and not to mention expensive. He finds his boxers on top of the tiny basketball hoop and pulls them up his long legs, giving up his search for pants and sits back hard against the leather, the skin on the back of his legs making a horrible squelching noise as he does so.
“What the fuck,” he spits in English, because no matter how much he tries, he can’t get past the pain or the urge to dry heave to remember what exactly happened last night. That’s when he hears a groan from under the freaking table in the middle of the limousine. There’s a horrible slam as whoever it is hits his head against the underside and rolls out from underneath.
It’s Junsu, looking ridiculously pathetic as he holds his head and pulls himself out from underneath the table with nothing but boxers and a black tie around his neck, and Taecyeon can’t help but notice the ring that matches his on his ring finger.
“What happened?” he croaks, his voice hoarse as though he’d been yelling all night long. He peeks through his fingers and peers at Taecyeon through the light. “Where’d we get the limo?” He’s immediately full of questions that Taecyeon can’t voice as he pulls himself onto the seat opposite him and raps on the window to the driver side. No one answers, and he shrugs his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck.
“My back hurts,” Junsu groans, sitting back in the seat and kicking his feet under the table. His toes come back out with a suit jacket that’s white just like Taecyeon’s, with a little crumpled flower still in the little front pocket and a paper sticking out of one of the other pockets. He pulls out the paper and pulls it open, his brow furrowed.
Taecyeon’s still staring at the ring on his finger and trying to form thought past the pounding in his head when Junsu’s eyes go wide as saucers. It’d look kind of comical, but it quickly turns from shock to horror. He sits up straight, forgetting the pain in his back.
“Oh god,” Junsu’s voice sounds kind of like a dying seal, or what Taecyeon would expect them to sound like. He turns the paper over with shaking hands, and Taecyeon reads the large print.
It takes him a minute to realize what he’s reading, because his head just hurts that much.
It’s a marriage certificate, and Taecyeon reads the names on it seven times just to make sure, and just in case, he reads the small English print. You can never be too careful. Then he reads it out loud because he still doesn’t believe it. His elbows hit his knees hard as he leans forward. “This is the official marriage certificate of Ock Taecyeon and Kim Junsu, married August 27, 2011.”
“Oh my god,” Junsu repeats, and it’s kind of like a mantra, because it continues through Taecyeon’s head until all he can see is pictures from last night, of the drinks, and the jewelry shop with the rings, and Chansung eating the cake.
“Nichkhun was best man,” Taecyeon mutters, and then he laughs like it’s the most hysterical thing in the universe. He wipes his hand over his face and feels the cold of the metal band on his finger. He bites it idly.
“Don’t do that!” Junsu cries, nearly falling over the coffee table to rip Taecyeon’s hand out of his mouth. The diamond nearly cuts his lip and Junsu’s hand ends up falling ridiculously close to Taecyeon’s tender parts on the seat. At this angle he can see how swollen Junsu’s lips look and it’s kind of frightening to think that maybe, just maybe, they did something else that night.
Suddenly the air in the limo is way too stifling. Regardless of his lack of decent clothes, Taecyeon pushes Junsu away with rough hands on his shoulders and lets him fall onto the table. He escapes into open air and puts one foot down - right on Wooyoung’s face.
He falls in a heap, and curls up, pulling his jacket over his head. He had to of been drugged. All of them, because there’s no way he could marry Junsu, because he’s not a girl for one, and he’s not sexually attracted to him, and he’s pretty sure he’d pick one of the members with better self esteem if he had to marry one of them.
“Ouch, what the hell,” Wooyoung is swearing at him in every language he knows (which isn’t a very impressive number, although Taecyeon was pretty sure the one he didn’t understand was Thai). Taecyeon peaks at him from under his jacket and ends up hiding again because the sun is way too bright.
“What happened last night?” Junsu asks Wooyoung, and Taecyeon can imagine him poking his head out of the door of the limo.
“Uh, you got married?” There’s the unmistakable sound of Wooyoung being walloped in the head. “Okay, okay.” Wooyoung pauses. Taecyeon’s pretty sure he’s taking a glance at his ass, which is still in the air. “You guys had a wild, uncontrollable lovemaking session in the limo?”
There isn’t the sound of a beating this time, but Taecyeon’s not sure he’d hear it anyways, because everything coherent inside of him has pooled in the center of his gut like liquid lava. He feels it make it’s way up his throat and he barely has time to move the ridiculously expensive suit coat before he’s upchucking whatever ungodly food they ate for their wedding reception last night.
His wedding reception.
He sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t do this,” Taecyeon moans. Reruns of Nichkhun’s ‘We Got Married’ flash through his head, except a lot darker and definitely not so happy. With Junsu’s voice nagging in his ear.
“Right,” Wooyoung is on his feet now, and Taecyeon finally realizes they’re in a field. In the middle of nowhere in the universe. “We should probably take the limo back. And the suits.”
“Maybe not the suits,” Junsu says at the same time that Taecyeon says “and the marriage.”
Wooyoung is the acting chauffeur because he drew the short straw, and Junsu and Taecyeon find the rest of their clothes under their seats and the smell of alcohol mixed with sweat and, bodily fluids is enough to make Taecyeon figure they might as well keep the suits.
They sit together side by side in silence in the back of the spacious limo, and Taecyeon props his feet up on the coffee table. Junsu has been playing with the ring on his finger, and budges at his feet until they fall down.
“Don’t put your feet up there,” he nags, which is funny because Taecyeon distinctly remembers Junsu crawling all over it, but he doesn’t say it.
“Stop playing with the ring, it’s going to break,” he shoots back instead.
Junsu rolls his eyes. “It’s a thirteen hundred diamond ring. I can play with it if I want.” He huffs, and glares at Taecyeon’s tie. “Fix your tie, it’s crooked.”
“I don’t like it tight. Your fly’s undone.”
“My ass hurts. Didn’t we have lube?”
“We didn’t do anything! Stop whining!”
“I’m whining? F’real?”
“Did you just say F’real?” Taecyeon laughs, passing a finger over his mouth and chewing on his fingernail. Junsu doesn’t bother nagging this time, instead dragging it away and sticking it in his mouth as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
It triggers something inside of him, some sort of repressed feeling that erupted inside of him like a nuclear bomb that destroyed the confusion and obliterated the embarrassment of finding out he’d just married one of his best friends. Whatever it was, he’d felt it last night when he’d gotten the idea in his head and proposed, and when he’d gotten up on that altar and said “I do,” even though he was leaning on Nichkhun because he couldn’t see straight and even though he’d ended up kissing Junsu on the nose instead of the mouth. He was pretty sure he was a lot more calm about this whole thing than he should have been.
And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, because Junsu’s mouth is wet and his tongue is kind of rough, but it’s also warm, and he kind of likes the slick of his saliva. He leans towards Junsu in the seat and pulls his finger out of his mouth, sliding it over towards his earring and not halting even when his ring gets stuck in Junsu’s hair.
His mouth is soft as he thought it’d be, and when he kisses him, he also slides his other hand down to his open fly and slips them up against his boxers. Junsu’s tongue feels as good in his mouth as his finger did, and it’s not even surprising when Taecyeon falls over him and ends up pressing Junsu down into the seat as though he’d done it before.
He finds a lovebite on his neck, and doesn’t hesitate to fit his mouth over the mark, sucking and biting at the flesh. And when he pulls off their pants, it’s almost natural, the way they fall to the floor. Junsu’s breath smells really bad, like coffee beans mixed with alcohol, but he likes it the same way he likes fitting his hand over his dick and stroking it until it’s hard.
He’s pleasantly surprised by the way Junsu’s hips rise to meet him, and he’s not sure he’s ever been this attracted to him before. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know why, but somehow he’s climaxing inside of him within ten minutes and he probably shouldn’t of cleaned up Junsu’s come on his abs with his shirt, but he didn’t have anything else.
“I don’t really know what’s going on,” Junsu’s saying to him. “I don’t even remember last night, but I have all these weird feelings and it feels nice and I don’t really-“ Taecyeon grabs his hand and he stops talking, shut up by all of the feelings that Taecyeon’s trying to project - or maybe he just realizes that Taecyeon’s just thought of this exact same thing.
“I don’t really remember it either,” he lies and kisses him again.
He’s groggy and he’s forgotten all about his headache when the limo comes to a halt. They pull on their clothes and Taecyeon’s careful to straighten his tie before he leaves. The limousine goes back, and after a thorough dry-cleaning, so do the suits. But the rings stay, and they glimmer and catch the light of cameras onstage, and when the members catch them together, there’s usually loud hooting involved. But they aren’t really mushy or obvious.
But he can’t really help it if he gravitates towards Junsu’s side when they’re doing interviews, and sometimes there’s not enough space, so their hands brush once or twice. Their marriage is more one of nagging, and even Nichkhun is amazed that they decided to stay together. It’s worth it, though, when he wakes up in the middle of the night with Junsu’s foul breath on his neck and his hair in his face.