Strip Me Down 1/2
Title: Strip Me Down
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Heechul/Hongki; Yunho/Jaejoong
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd all be naked.
Word Count: 2801
All that matters is who you go home to.
His body swayed, hips rolled, legs flowed across the stage. His face. You could always tell by the face if the dancer really enjoyed it or not. Some would smile, but their eyes would be empty. His eyes shone. He winked at the men calling his name. He smiled, lips stretched and then licked his teeth amid catcalls and marriage proposals. He wore tight black pants that left nothing to the imagination and an even tighter white tank top. He danced, body popping and sliding and thrusting in time with the pop music playing. He slid a hand up his leg, over his hip and across his stomach, to his face. A wicked pink tongue curled around his fingers, then he ruffled his blond hair before throwing the arm in the air, head back.
The music stopped
The man at the back of the room barely had time to be relieved before it started again.
Just a beat, and the dancer thrust his hips. Nothing else moving, and then after a quiet moment, he folded in on himself to the floor. He crawled along the edge of the stage, movements fluid, like a tiger stalking prey, that pert little ass in the air. The smile only left his face long enough for him to lick his lips.
The crowd cheered when he started doing obscene pushups. With every hook of his hips, the crowd cried his name.
“Hongki.”
The man in the back whispered it, just once.
The dancer stopped and suddenly flipped and balanced his body on his elbows with his legs in the air. He spread them slowly, and then with amazing balance and strength, pushed himself up to his hands. His legs closed and then fell forward. He landed in an arch, the prominent hard on in his pant visible.
The crowd loved it.
Almost in slow motion, he straightened, arms leaving the floor. He spun on his foot at the last moment, back to the crowd. He wrapped arms around himself, hands grabbing the hem of the tank. He pulled up, so slowly, revealing a tattoo?
The man in the back scoffed.
The tattoo was red, just a thick band of red, then revealed as more of the shirt was lifted. Black scrolling words, “Do you want it?”
The crowed screamed various versions of yes.
The shirt fell from his outstretched arm, and then he smirked over his shoulder and started dancing again. More hip rolling, more thrusting. So much money tossed on stage.
The music stopped again, the dancer turning his back and flinging his arms out right on cue. The lights dimmed, and then a bright spotlight hit the dancer’s ass. His pale hands contrasted sharply with the black material as he rubbed his ass and canted his hips some more.
The man in the back had to smile. Hongki had always loved to perform.
Fingers hooked in the waist band and ever so slowly the tight black pants rolled over hips and a plump mounds of ass. The rest of the tattoo was revealed. The point of an arrow. The dancer bent over as the pants lowered, his ass cheeks spreading just a bit.
The man in the back looked away, blushing at the image of that ass open underneath him.
The crowd cheered, and he knew he wasn’t the only one thinking it.
A coil of rage wound through him as those pants were tossed to the side, and hands went back to massaging and rubbing, and hips rolled. The crowd yelled for him to turn around, and then practically had a group orgasm when he did and fell to his knees. He ran teasing hands around his naked body, never touching his erect cock. And still he danced, body weaving.
After long minutes, those agile fingers finally wrapped around his cock.
The man in the back shut his eyes, and breath gasping, forced his feet to leave.
“You’re going to miss the best part,” the door man said.
“I’ve seen it,” he said and left the smoked-out, stifling bar.
He went home and waited in the dark. He was so hard, but no amount of deep breathing or relaxation exercises could calm him.
A few hours later, when the door opened, he pounced, slamming that lithe body against the door, covering the startled question with a forceful kiss that had their teeth clacking together and tongues fighting for dominance. When hands grabbed his hips, he snarled and wrenched them away, pinning them above the younger man’s head.
He moved that harshness to Hongki’s neck, biting, sucking, absorbing the mewls of pain and pleas to stop. He pushed their bodies together, feeling an answering hardness against his hip that made him growl. Who cared if he got hard from this? Obviously being in front of a faceless crowd of horny men was enough. He flipped Hongki around, held him close with one arm, wrists still clutched in his hand. And moved them, pushed him through the living room into the bedroom, mouth never leaving his neck, biting sucking marking.
In the bedroom, he undressed Hongki, tearing his shirt when it went over his head, forcing boxers and sweat pants off at once. He practically flung Hongki to the bed.
“Heech-”
“No. Don’t move. Don’t talk.” He took off his clothes and then climbed on the bed, sneering at the pale expanse of back. Tattoo free. He ran his tongue up Hongki’s spine and then back down, not stopping, spreading those perfect cheeks to lick at his hole. Hongki screamed and arched into him. He slapped his ass. He reached up, forced his fingers in Hongki’s mouth, and around moans, Hongki sucked and licked them until they dripped with spit.
He forced two fingers completely inside Hongki at once. He screamed, half lifting off the bed. A third finger was added immediately. He finger fucked Hongki as he bit and marked that perfect back up to the shoulders and neck. He pulled his fingers away, held those slim hips where he wanted them, and then slammed his dick inside Hongki. The tight channel fought against him as he scraped in and out.
Hongki said his name again, half a whimper, half a moan. He grabbed that blond hair, yanking his head back and abused that slender neck again.
“You told me you stopped dancing,” he growled.
Hongki whimpered.
“You told me you stopped dancing,” he said again, each word punctuated with a deep thrust into that body. “Don’t you dare give me excuses about needing the money, and don’t you dare give me excuses about how they expect you to. You told me you stopped.”
Hongki’s words were lost in a whimper.
He yanked on that hair. “What?”
“I like it,” Hongki practically shouted. “I like it, god, Heechul, I’m sorry, but I like it.”
He slowed, rested his head against the back of Hongki’s neck and then sighed. With a soft kiss, he pulled away, but only long enough to grab lube from the side draw and cover himself with it. He turned Hongki over, ran soft, slick fingers of one hand up to his nipples, and sliding the others back into Hongki’s body for a few minutes. He leaned over him, Hongki’s hips rising and his dick sliding into him at the same moment. Nothing and no one would ever fit against his body so well. He fucked him slowly, sharing kisses and moans and deep breaths. He fought back tears as he watched Hongki’s eyes flutter. He bit his lip against a sob every time Hongki gasped.
Hongki’s hands clutched his back and shoulders, fingers tightening when his body spasmed out his release between their bodies.
He shut his eyes as Hongki tightened around him, reveled in the feel of being held so tightly. He didn’t want to come, not yet, but he filled Hongki as his own body shuddered.
He kissed him, whispered against his lips, “I love you.” And then immediately rolled away. Hongki gasped from the sudden lack of contact, breath still too short to do anything else.
He sat up, sighed, and then got dressed. Hongki’s gasps filled the room as he grabbed a bag and threw some essential items in it.
“I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff when I can stand to look at you,” he said, and left the room. Halfway through the living room, Hongki called his name again, desperate, weak. He shivered, but forced himself to keep moving. The door slammed behind him, and Heechul left.
There was really only one place for him to go. Well, he could have gone to many, but only one place where the people would understand.
It was almost four am when he knocked on Jaejoong and Yunho’s door.
Heechul rang the bell four times before the door finally opened.
“Fuck you, Heechul,” Jaejoong said as tired eyes focused on him. “I thought we gave you a fucking key.”
“Sorry. I didn’t take the time to find it.”
“What’s wrong?” Jae asked, stepping aside to let him in.
“Did you guys know that Hongki is still dancing?”
Jae grimaced. “If I say yes, will you be incredibly pissed?”
Heechul shrugged. “Figures.”
“Baby, who is it?” Yunho called from down the hall.
“Heechul.”
“Stupid fucker.”
“Do you want something to drink?” Jae asked him.
“No, just want to be alone for a little while.”
Yunho came into the room, sleep pants barely covering his hips. He took one look at Heechul’s face and then hugged the other man. “What’s wrong, Hee?”
“He found out that Hongki is still dancing,” Jaejoong said.
“Oh, that. How’d you find out?”
“I caught his show tonight.”
Jaejoong winced. “And?”
“And what? He danced across that stage like he owned it, and tore off his clothes and fucking gave himself a hand job in front of who knows how many fucking horny men.”
“It is a good show,” Jaejoong said.
“You’ve seen it?” Heechul exploded.
“Yoochun dragged me to it last week.”
“Yoochun has seen it? Fuck you guys, I thought you were my fucking friends.”
Yunho said, “You went to a strip club with Yoochun?”
“Yeah, he was drunk. I was baby sitting him.”
“Oh, and I’m sure that watching Hongki was just part of it.”
Jae rose his eyebrows. “Not about us right now, dear. Look Heechul, Hongki likes to dance.”
“Damn it, guys, I don’t care if he dances, just … not there, and not stripping.”
“He likes the attention.”
“So does that mean I don’t give him enough? We have sex every fucking day.”
“It’s a different kind of attention. He comes home to you every night, that’s all that matters.”
Yunho looked at him and scoffed. “So you can do whatever the fuck you want with Yoochun, but as long as you come home to me, then that’s okay.”
“Damn it, Yunho. That’s not what I mean.”
“I remember that night, you came home and practically raped me. God, and here I thought it was from me, but it was from fucking watching Hongki dance.”
“Yunho.”
“No, don’t. This is bullshit.”
“I’m trying to make Heechul feel better.”
“Then go ahead and take him to another room and make him feel better. It won’t matter as long as you come back to me.”
Heechul sighed and headed down the hall. “I should have gone to Hangeng’s house.”
“Heechul,” Jae said.
Heechul waved him silent. “Just shut up. I need to be alone.” He slammed the bedroom door.
“Fuck,” Jaejoong said.
“Yeah, fuck is right. Damn it, Jaejoong. Now I can’t trust you to go out with Yoochun at all.”
“Are you kidding? Yoochun is like my brother.”
“So was I!”
“No, you weren’t,” Jae said with a small smile. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you.”
Yunho smirked. “Sure.”
“Aw, come on, Yunnie. I love you. And you have to admit, that was amazing sex last week.”
“Yeah, but not because of me. Can’t you understand how much that hurts?”
Jae sighed.
Yunho turned away and headed down the hall. Jaejoong winced when their bedroom door slammed.
“Fuck.” Jae dropped to the couch. Only to get up again when there was frantic knocking on the door. He wasn’t surprised when he opened it and found a disheveled Hongki on the other side. He wore jeans and a tank top. There were purple marks and teeth imprints on his neck and shoulders.
“Please tell me he’s here,” Hongki said, voice cracking, “because if he’s not here, then I have no idea where he’d be and god, I can’t, Jae.”
Hongki collapsed into Jae’s arms and he led him to the couch.
“Sh,” Jaejoong said. “He’s here.”
“Thank god.”
Jaejoong let him cry. The hickies continued down his back. He knew that there was a definite no-touch rule when Hongki performed, and he’d never let anything mar his skin like this. That meant that Heechul did it. Probably took his anger out on him. The thought of Heechul doing this to him made Jaejoong shiver.
Feeling of eyes on him, he turned around. Heechul was barely visible, leaning against the wall, crying.
“God, Jae, what do I do?” Hongki asked.
Jae turned back and said, “You really need to ask that? You need to decide what is more important. Dancing or Heechul.”
“Heechul is.”
“If Heechul was, we wouldn’t be here right now. You told him you stopped dancing. You lied to him.”
“I was only going to do it one more time and then they asked again, and god, Jaejoong, I love it so much.”
“Let me ask you something, Hongki. How would you feel if you had walked in this door and Heechul was jerking off for me?”
Hongki tensed.
“You may think that it’s different because we know each other, and the men at the club are just faceless bottomless cash machines, but in Heechul’s eyes, it’s the same thing. Look, you should be having this conversation with Heechul, but I honestly doubt he’d talk to you right now. Heechul loves you; Heechul loves that you love to dance. It’s the stripping that he doesn’t like.”
“But if he loved me, wouldn’t he let me do what I want?”
Jaejoong scoffed. “Honey, I’ve seen your show. If I walked into a club and saw Yunho doing that, I’d drag him off stage by his dick and not let go until I made it perfectly clear that he was mine. I’m surprised Heechul didn’t cause a scene at the club.”
Hongki sorta laughed. “Me, too.”
“What did your fake tattoo say tonight?”
“‘Do you want it?’ with an arrow pointing at my ass.”
“God, that’s almost as bad as last week when it said, ‘Splatter zone’ in a bulls eye.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you really have to be a stripper?” Jae asked. “Why not go audition for a dance company? You’re good enough.”
Hongki sighed.
“It’s either that, or keep stripping and lose Heechul.”
“I think I’ve already lost him.”
Jae looked back at Heechul, not surprised that he’d come into the room. Heechul shook his head, but he moved closer. He hated it when Hongki cried. He hated it when he cried, and the only person in the world that could make him cry was his boyfriend. He’d already given Hongki a second chance. Did he really deserve a third one? He walked to the other side of the couch and sat down.
Hongki’s head shot up and he stared wide-eyed for a full five seconds before breathing his name and collapsing in his arms.
Heechul sat still for a long moment, and then slowly put his arms around him.
“Never,” Hongki was muttering over and over. “Never again. I promise.”
Jaejoong stood. “You didn’t by chance help smooth things over with Yunho for me?”
“No, sorry. If we had talked, we’d probably have dumped you both and gone out with each other.”
“True.”
Jaejoong left the room. Heechul held Hongki’s shuddering body close, running fingers through his hair. He kissed the top of his head.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Hongki whispered. “But I -”
“Don’t rationalize it, Ki, please. I love you. Your mine. Just mine.”
“Just yours. Can we go home?”
Heechul swallowed. “Yeah. Let me go get my bag.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
Hongki jumped off his lap and practically ran down the hall. He came back with a smirk on his face.
“Sounds like they made up.”
“Good.” Heechul grabbed him by the neck and yanked their bodies together. He kissed him hard. “When we get home, I expect a thorough apology with full corporal worship and some major, major ass kissing.”
“Same thing, aren’t they?”
Heechul laughed and kissed him again.
Part Two: http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/2172.html#cutid1
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Heechul/Hongki; Yunho/Jaejoong
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd all be naked.
Word Count: 2801
All that matters is who you go home to.
His body swayed, hips rolled, legs flowed across the stage. His face. You could always tell by the face if the dancer really enjoyed it or not. Some would smile, but their eyes would be empty. His eyes shone. He winked at the men calling his name. He smiled, lips stretched and then licked his teeth amid catcalls and marriage proposals. He wore tight black pants that left nothing to the imagination and an even tighter white tank top. He danced, body popping and sliding and thrusting in time with the pop music playing. He slid a hand up his leg, over his hip and across his stomach, to his face. A wicked pink tongue curled around his fingers, then he ruffled his blond hair before throwing the arm in the air, head back.
The music stopped
The man at the back of the room barely had time to be relieved before it started again.
Just a beat, and the dancer thrust his hips. Nothing else moving, and then after a quiet moment, he folded in on himself to the floor. He crawled along the edge of the stage, movements fluid, like a tiger stalking prey, that pert little ass in the air. The smile only left his face long enough for him to lick his lips.
The crowd cheered when he started doing obscene pushups. With every hook of his hips, the crowd cried his name.
“Hongki.”
The man in the back whispered it, just once.
The dancer stopped and suddenly flipped and balanced his body on his elbows with his legs in the air. He spread them slowly, and then with amazing balance and strength, pushed himself up to his hands. His legs closed and then fell forward. He landed in an arch, the prominent hard on in his pant visible.
The crowd loved it.
Almost in slow motion, he straightened, arms leaving the floor. He spun on his foot at the last moment, back to the crowd. He wrapped arms around himself, hands grabbing the hem of the tank. He pulled up, so slowly, revealing a tattoo?
The man in the back scoffed.
The tattoo was red, just a thick band of red, then revealed as more of the shirt was lifted. Black scrolling words, “Do you want it?”
The crowed screamed various versions of yes.
The shirt fell from his outstretched arm, and then he smirked over his shoulder and started dancing again. More hip rolling, more thrusting. So much money tossed on stage.
The music stopped again, the dancer turning his back and flinging his arms out right on cue. The lights dimmed, and then a bright spotlight hit the dancer’s ass. His pale hands contrasted sharply with the black material as he rubbed his ass and canted his hips some more.
The man in the back had to smile. Hongki had always loved to perform.
Fingers hooked in the waist band and ever so slowly the tight black pants rolled over hips and a plump mounds of ass. The rest of the tattoo was revealed. The point of an arrow. The dancer bent over as the pants lowered, his ass cheeks spreading just a bit.
The man in the back looked away, blushing at the image of that ass open underneath him.
The crowd cheered, and he knew he wasn’t the only one thinking it.
A coil of rage wound through him as those pants were tossed to the side, and hands went back to massaging and rubbing, and hips rolled. The crowd yelled for him to turn around, and then practically had a group orgasm when he did and fell to his knees. He ran teasing hands around his naked body, never touching his erect cock. And still he danced, body weaving.
After long minutes, those agile fingers finally wrapped around his cock.
The man in the back shut his eyes, and breath gasping, forced his feet to leave.
“You’re going to miss the best part,” the door man said.
“I’ve seen it,” he said and left the smoked-out, stifling bar.
He went home and waited in the dark. He was so hard, but no amount of deep breathing or relaxation exercises could calm him.
A few hours later, when the door opened, he pounced, slamming that lithe body against the door, covering the startled question with a forceful kiss that had their teeth clacking together and tongues fighting for dominance. When hands grabbed his hips, he snarled and wrenched them away, pinning them above the younger man’s head.
He moved that harshness to Hongki’s neck, biting, sucking, absorbing the mewls of pain and pleas to stop. He pushed their bodies together, feeling an answering hardness against his hip that made him growl. Who cared if he got hard from this? Obviously being in front of a faceless crowd of horny men was enough. He flipped Hongki around, held him close with one arm, wrists still clutched in his hand. And moved them, pushed him through the living room into the bedroom, mouth never leaving his neck, biting sucking marking.
In the bedroom, he undressed Hongki, tearing his shirt when it went over his head, forcing boxers and sweat pants off at once. He practically flung Hongki to the bed.
“Heech-”
“No. Don’t move. Don’t talk.” He took off his clothes and then climbed on the bed, sneering at the pale expanse of back. Tattoo free. He ran his tongue up Hongki’s spine and then back down, not stopping, spreading those perfect cheeks to lick at his hole. Hongki screamed and arched into him. He slapped his ass. He reached up, forced his fingers in Hongki’s mouth, and around moans, Hongki sucked and licked them until they dripped with spit.
He forced two fingers completely inside Hongki at once. He screamed, half lifting off the bed. A third finger was added immediately. He finger fucked Hongki as he bit and marked that perfect back up to the shoulders and neck. He pulled his fingers away, held those slim hips where he wanted them, and then slammed his dick inside Hongki. The tight channel fought against him as he scraped in and out.
Hongki said his name again, half a whimper, half a moan. He grabbed that blond hair, yanking his head back and abused that slender neck again.
“You told me you stopped dancing,” he growled.
Hongki whimpered.
“You told me you stopped dancing,” he said again, each word punctuated with a deep thrust into that body. “Don’t you dare give me excuses about needing the money, and don’t you dare give me excuses about how they expect you to. You told me you stopped.”
Hongki’s words were lost in a whimper.
He yanked on that hair. “What?”
“I like it,” Hongki practically shouted. “I like it, god, Heechul, I’m sorry, but I like it.”
He slowed, rested his head against the back of Hongki’s neck and then sighed. With a soft kiss, he pulled away, but only long enough to grab lube from the side draw and cover himself with it. He turned Hongki over, ran soft, slick fingers of one hand up to his nipples, and sliding the others back into Hongki’s body for a few minutes. He leaned over him, Hongki’s hips rising and his dick sliding into him at the same moment. Nothing and no one would ever fit against his body so well. He fucked him slowly, sharing kisses and moans and deep breaths. He fought back tears as he watched Hongki’s eyes flutter. He bit his lip against a sob every time Hongki gasped.
Hongki’s hands clutched his back and shoulders, fingers tightening when his body spasmed out his release between their bodies.
He shut his eyes as Hongki tightened around him, reveled in the feel of being held so tightly. He didn’t want to come, not yet, but he filled Hongki as his own body shuddered.
He kissed him, whispered against his lips, “I love you.” And then immediately rolled away. Hongki gasped from the sudden lack of contact, breath still too short to do anything else.
He sat up, sighed, and then got dressed. Hongki’s gasps filled the room as he grabbed a bag and threw some essential items in it.
“I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff when I can stand to look at you,” he said, and left the room. Halfway through the living room, Hongki called his name again, desperate, weak. He shivered, but forced himself to keep moving. The door slammed behind him, and Heechul left.
There was really only one place for him to go. Well, he could have gone to many, but only one place where the people would understand.
It was almost four am when he knocked on Jaejoong and Yunho’s door.
Heechul rang the bell four times before the door finally opened.
“Fuck you, Heechul,” Jaejoong said as tired eyes focused on him. “I thought we gave you a fucking key.”
“Sorry. I didn’t take the time to find it.”
“What’s wrong?” Jae asked, stepping aside to let him in.
“Did you guys know that Hongki is still dancing?”
Jae grimaced. “If I say yes, will you be incredibly pissed?”
Heechul shrugged. “Figures.”
“Baby, who is it?” Yunho called from down the hall.
“Heechul.”
“Stupid fucker.”
“Do you want something to drink?” Jae asked him.
“No, just want to be alone for a little while.”
Yunho came into the room, sleep pants barely covering his hips. He took one look at Heechul’s face and then hugged the other man. “What’s wrong, Hee?”
“He found out that Hongki is still dancing,” Jaejoong said.
“Oh, that. How’d you find out?”
“I caught his show tonight.”
Jaejoong winced. “And?”
“And what? He danced across that stage like he owned it, and tore off his clothes and fucking gave himself a hand job in front of who knows how many fucking horny men.”
“It is a good show,” Jaejoong said.
“You’ve seen it?” Heechul exploded.
“Yoochun dragged me to it last week.”
“Yoochun has seen it? Fuck you guys, I thought you were my fucking friends.”
Yunho said, “You went to a strip club with Yoochun?”
“Yeah, he was drunk. I was baby sitting him.”
“Oh, and I’m sure that watching Hongki was just part of it.”
Jae rose his eyebrows. “Not about us right now, dear. Look Heechul, Hongki likes to dance.”
“Damn it, guys, I don’t care if he dances, just … not there, and not stripping.”
“He likes the attention.”
“So does that mean I don’t give him enough? We have sex every fucking day.”
“It’s a different kind of attention. He comes home to you every night, that’s all that matters.”
Yunho looked at him and scoffed. “So you can do whatever the fuck you want with Yoochun, but as long as you come home to me, then that’s okay.”
“Damn it, Yunho. That’s not what I mean.”
“I remember that night, you came home and practically raped me. God, and here I thought it was from me, but it was from fucking watching Hongki dance.”
“Yunho.”
“No, don’t. This is bullshit.”
“I’m trying to make Heechul feel better.”
“Then go ahead and take him to another room and make him feel better. It won’t matter as long as you come back to me.”
Heechul sighed and headed down the hall. “I should have gone to Hangeng’s house.”
“Heechul,” Jae said.
Heechul waved him silent. “Just shut up. I need to be alone.” He slammed the bedroom door.
“Fuck,” Jaejoong said.
“Yeah, fuck is right. Damn it, Jaejoong. Now I can’t trust you to go out with Yoochun at all.”
“Are you kidding? Yoochun is like my brother.”
“So was I!”
“No, you weren’t,” Jae said with a small smile. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you.”
Yunho smirked. “Sure.”
“Aw, come on, Yunnie. I love you. And you have to admit, that was amazing sex last week.”
“Yeah, but not because of me. Can’t you understand how much that hurts?”
Jae sighed.
Yunho turned away and headed down the hall. Jaejoong winced when their bedroom door slammed.
“Fuck.” Jae dropped to the couch. Only to get up again when there was frantic knocking on the door. He wasn’t surprised when he opened it and found a disheveled Hongki on the other side. He wore jeans and a tank top. There were purple marks and teeth imprints on his neck and shoulders.
“Please tell me he’s here,” Hongki said, voice cracking, “because if he’s not here, then I have no idea where he’d be and god, I can’t, Jae.”
Hongki collapsed into Jae’s arms and he led him to the couch.
“Sh,” Jaejoong said. “He’s here.”
“Thank god.”
Jaejoong let him cry. The hickies continued down his back. He knew that there was a definite no-touch rule when Hongki performed, and he’d never let anything mar his skin like this. That meant that Heechul did it. Probably took his anger out on him. The thought of Heechul doing this to him made Jaejoong shiver.
Feeling of eyes on him, he turned around. Heechul was barely visible, leaning against the wall, crying.
“God, Jae, what do I do?” Hongki asked.
Jae turned back and said, “You really need to ask that? You need to decide what is more important. Dancing or Heechul.”
“Heechul is.”
“If Heechul was, we wouldn’t be here right now. You told him you stopped dancing. You lied to him.”
“I was only going to do it one more time and then they asked again, and god, Jaejoong, I love it so much.”
“Let me ask you something, Hongki. How would you feel if you had walked in this door and Heechul was jerking off for me?”
Hongki tensed.
“You may think that it’s different because we know each other, and the men at the club are just faceless bottomless cash machines, but in Heechul’s eyes, it’s the same thing. Look, you should be having this conversation with Heechul, but I honestly doubt he’d talk to you right now. Heechul loves you; Heechul loves that you love to dance. It’s the stripping that he doesn’t like.”
“But if he loved me, wouldn’t he let me do what I want?”
Jaejoong scoffed. “Honey, I’ve seen your show. If I walked into a club and saw Yunho doing that, I’d drag him off stage by his dick and not let go until I made it perfectly clear that he was mine. I’m surprised Heechul didn’t cause a scene at the club.”
Hongki sorta laughed. “Me, too.”
“What did your fake tattoo say tonight?”
“‘Do you want it?’ with an arrow pointing at my ass.”
“God, that’s almost as bad as last week when it said, ‘Splatter zone’ in a bulls eye.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you really have to be a stripper?” Jae asked. “Why not go audition for a dance company? You’re good enough.”
Hongki sighed.
“It’s either that, or keep stripping and lose Heechul.”
“I think I’ve already lost him.”
Jae looked back at Heechul, not surprised that he’d come into the room. Heechul shook his head, but he moved closer. He hated it when Hongki cried. He hated it when he cried, and the only person in the world that could make him cry was his boyfriend. He’d already given Hongki a second chance. Did he really deserve a third one? He walked to the other side of the couch and sat down.
Hongki’s head shot up and he stared wide-eyed for a full five seconds before breathing his name and collapsing in his arms.
Heechul sat still for a long moment, and then slowly put his arms around him.
“Never,” Hongki was muttering over and over. “Never again. I promise.”
Jaejoong stood. “You didn’t by chance help smooth things over with Yunho for me?”
“No, sorry. If we had talked, we’d probably have dumped you both and gone out with each other.”
“True.”
Jaejoong left the room. Heechul held Hongki’s shuddering body close, running fingers through his hair. He kissed the top of his head.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Hongki whispered. “But I -”
“Don’t rationalize it, Ki, please. I love you. Your mine. Just mine.”
“Just yours. Can we go home?”
Heechul swallowed. “Yeah. Let me go get my bag.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
Hongki jumped off his lap and practically ran down the hall. He came back with a smirk on his face.
“Sounds like they made up.”
“Good.” Heechul grabbed him by the neck and yanked their bodies together. He kissed him hard. “When we get home, I expect a thorough apology with full corporal worship and some major, major ass kissing.”
“Same thing, aren’t they?”
Heechul laughed and kissed him again.
Part Two: http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/2172.html#cutid1