No Lube, No Condoms, No Service 14/?
Title: No Lube, No Condoms, No Service 14/?
Pairing: Various but will include Changmin/Jaejoong, Changmin/Yoochun, Changmin/Jaejoong/Yoochun, Junsu/Junho, Kouyou/Changmin, Hangeng/Jungmo/Heechul ... lots and lots
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If they were really escorts, I would buy them for a night, and then I would own them, but ... yeah, I don't now.
Summary: Shim Changmin is the son of a wealthy business man. He's working his way through college. When a paper for his Human Sexuality class is assigned, he decides he wants to do something that no other student has done before. But what seems like an easy project turns into a emotional battle to decide what is most important.
Poster credit goes to ponyboy!!!
Warnings: Incest (Junsu/Junho)
Pairings this chapter: minor!Jaejoong/Changmin, minor!Yunho/Changmin
Hey guys! Don't forget to make a poster for this fic! We'll have a vote for it soon! Post your entries here: http://be-dell-addict.livejournal.com/38106.html
Part 14: Consolidating and Restructuring
“What were you planning on wearing tonight?” Kouyou asked.
Jungmo waved a hand at him, unwilling to let Changmin go. “Whatever. You pick something. I’ll dress to match.”
“Oh, god, this is why I don’t do shows with you.”
Jungmo smirked down at Changmin as Kouyou left the living room.
“He has control issues,” Jungmo explained.
Junho snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“I noticed,” Changmin said. “He did have me tied up a few days ago.”
They laughed. Changmin resettled against Jungmo’s chest, moving his arm. The floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, and he could have joined Junho and Junsu on the couch. But that meant getting up.
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you now?” Junsu asked. His hand landed softly on Changmin’s shoulder.
Changmin shut his eyes and took a deep breath of Jungmo’s cologne. “Just … I don’t know. I don’t think I could ever do this.”
“This?” Jungmo said, prompting.
“Yeah, this.”
“And does this have anything to do with the marks on your wrists?” Junho asked.
Changmin absently rubbed one of his wrists as he nodded. “Yunho confronted me while I was swimming this morning, and the idea of me being Max is … It was weird. He wasn’t fucking me. He was fucking Max, and …”
“You do know you don’t have to explain this to us,” Jungmo said. “We get it.”
“I know, but I don’t get how you can do that. How …”
“It’s a job, Changmin,” Junho said. “You’re a business man, right? When you sit in a meeting, you project a different air, a different personality. We do that, too. If your emotions get involved, things get fucked.”
Jungmo laughed. “Yeah, like if some client tries to touch Junsu.”
Junho scowled. “Shut up.”
Junsu smiled and pressed a kiss to Junho’s neck. “I love it when he’s overprotective.”
Changmin sighed. “Sex has always been just sex to me. I mean, I’m a college student. And I’m rich. And I’m good looking-“
“And so humble,” Jungmo muttered.
“But this … I’ve never felt used before. Ever. And this makes me wonder how many people I’ve had sex with that felt used and dirty afterwards. And then I feel guilty, and then I feel dirty again, and then I remember how hot it was and I get horny, and then I feel dirty because I shouldn’t get turned on by it.” He broke off and then sighed again. “Before the show, Kyuhyun tried to explain that sex is different with someone you love, or with someone you care about, and I didn’t fully get it until this morning. I don’t think I’d call Yunho a friend, but we have a mutual respect for each other. Or we did. Now, I’m just some piece of ass for him to fuck.”
Jungmo held him more tightly.
“I think I’m going to wear this.”
Changmin turned his head and his jaw dropped. Kouyou and purple. That’s all his mind processed at first, and then creamy thighs, sloping shoulders, more purple and more purple.
Jungmo whistled. “Good one. I can’t wait to take it off you.”
“What are you going to wear?” Kouyou asked.
“I don’t know. Clothes.”
“MoMo, come on.”
“Uruha, fuck off. We have a few hours.”
Kouyou glared at him for a moment longer, arms crossed. In that outfit. That hair styled.
Changmin shivered.
“What?” Jungmo asked.
“He makes me want to do everything he asks and crawl after him like a puppy,” Changmin said.
They all laughed.
“Then I’m definitely wearing this outfit,” Kouyou said.
“I better get up and make him happy,” Jungmo said. He pressed a kiss to Changmin’s forehead. “Go cuddle with the Twins.”
“Naw. Yoochun says I’m supposed to go to as many shows as I can, so I need to go to my dorm and work on my paper while I’ve got some time.”
“All right. I’ll see you tonight.” Jungmo kissed Changmin again.
Changmin sat up, back against the couch. Junsu’s fingers trailed through his hair. His eyes shut and he sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the soft touch. Junsu shifted behind him, and then Changmin grunted as Junsu fell in his lap.
“Don’t worry too much, Minnie,” Junsu said, curling against him. Changmin rested his cheek against the top of Junsu’s head, arms circling around him. Junho’s fingers replaced Junsu’s in his hair. “This is why we’re escorts, and not full blown hookers. Tonight, Uruha and MoMo will probably have sex with their client, but here, now, they’re Kouyou and Jungmo. We actually don’t fuck our clients as much as you think we do. Just each other.”
“Isn’t that worse, though?” Changmin asked. “Last night, I felt like I was watching a private moment between Kouyou and Kibum. It was … intrusive.”
Junsu smiled up at him. “We’re actors, Minnie. If they made you feel like that, then they did their jobs well.”
“I better go,” Changmin said with a sigh.
“I could suck you off and make you feel better,” Junsu said with another smile. “And Junho can fuck you while I do that. That should make you feel better.” He moved again until he was straddling Changmin’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist.
Changmin grinned back and shook his head. “No …” He made a face. “I just don’t think I ever want to have sex again.”
Junsu pouted. “That’s not fair. What about the rest of us? You’re going to deprive us of your perfect body?”
Changmin chuckled and kissed him lightly. “Okay, okay. So I just don’t want to have sex again today. Better?”
Junsu nodded. “Much.”
Junho carefully took his arm and pulled him. Junsu followed the lead and climbed off Changmin’s lap and into his brother’s. They rearranged on the couch. Changmin turned to them, laying his head on the soft fabric. Junho traced his face with his fingertips.
“It gets easier,” Junho whispered.
Changmin nodded, eyes shutting as lips pressed against his. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
----
Yoochun followed Jaejoong down the embankment. The river gurgled innocently. A raging torrent would have been better for the emotions running through the two of them. Yoochun pointed to the concrete base of the bridge, and Jaejoong moved over to it. Yoochun analyzed the lighting and decided the shadows were all right for now. He lifted the camera and snapped a shot of Jaejoong staring out over the water.
Jaejoong, hearing the shutter whir, turned and grinned at Yoochun. “I’m not naked yet.”
“Get naked.”
As Jaejoong gripped the bottom of his tank top, Yoochun started taking pictures.
Jaejoong’s beauty always left him speechless. Even now, when Jaejoong was merely taking off his clothes, not stripping, but just getting naked, it was hard not to fall in love with him all over again.
Yoochun figured that was the point of this anyway. A reminder of what he promised to love and protect and cherish with all his heart.
“Beautiful, Jae,” Yoochun muttered, focusing the picture on Jaejoong’s bare hipbone.
A heated blush covered Jaejoong’s skin. He looked down, biting his lower lip. Yoochun had seen him do that more times than not. Jaejoong was not embarrassed about being naked. Even here where anyone could see. Yoochun snapped a picture of the moment, even if it was faked. He snapped more pictures of Jaejoong against the gray concrete.
The camera whirred, the roll of film empty. Yoochun moved to where he’d dropped the bag, not looking at Jaejoong. His emotions were still too choppy to really look at the man he loved so much.
“I shouldn’t have made you promise to be exclusive,” Jaejoong whispered.
Yoochun concentrated on putting in a new roll of film. “You didn’t make me.”
“I shouldn’t have suggested it then. It’s not fair to you. And you’re hurting.”
Yoochun looked up then. “I’m used to hurting when it comes to loving you.” He turned away before he could see Jaejoong’s reaction to that comment.
“I don’t know what … I … Yoochun, I love you.”
Yoochun nodded. “I know. Go sit by the river.”
After a tense moment, Jaejoong complied. Yoochun turned around, camera poised and took a few pictures of Jaejoong, feet in the water, arms behind him. He moved closer to take shots of his pale body against the dark earth. He circled around him, heart clenching, eyes stinging with tears as he captured the perfect image of his lover.
“I know why I’m so comfortable like this,” Yoochun said, focusing on the curve of Jaejoong’s shoulder. “Turn your chin to me.” He snapped a picture of the perfection in his lens.
“Why?”
“Because it’s like my life. I’m not really in your life, just viewing you through a lens.”
Jaejoong frowned, eyes hooded.
Yoochun took another picture.
“You’re part of my life,” he protested.
“Am I? Or am I only on the peripheral edge? Something to focus on when you need to, ignore when you don’t.”
Jaejoong turned his upper body towards Yoochun, and Yoochun saw a beautiful angle. He kneeled, turned his camera. Jaejoong’s entire back filled the frame, a single eye, pouty lower lip. In the background was the blurred image of his bent knee.
A tear dripped over his cheek. Yoochun focused on the tear and snapped a picture before he lost the image.
“You really think I ignore you?” Jaejoong whispered.
“Not on purpose.”
“How can you say that?”
Yoochun sighed and lowered his camera, resting it on his knees. He kept his head lowered because if he looked up at Jaejoong, he’d cave and crawl to him. The camera was his barrier.
“Is this conversation going to end up breaking my heart?” Jaejoong whispered.
Yoochun smiled and shook his head. “No. Mine either, but that’s because mine is already broken.” He ignored Jaejoong’s pained noise and stood up quickly. He checked his film. There were a few more pictures on this roll. He lifted it to his eye, focusing on Jaejoong’s naked body again.
“Lay down,” he whispered.
Jaejoong did not protest, lying in the soft earth at the edge of the river. Yoochun stood over him. He angled the camera to get the expanse of Jaejoong’s body, and then stepped back until the angle was right.
“Touch yourself,” he whispered.
Jaejoong’s fingers trailed up his stomach, to his nipple. The other hand curled around his hip. His cock slowly hardened.
So did Yoochun’s. He loved watching Jaejoong touch himself.
He stepped to the side, focusing on Jae’s lower half. He whispered commands and Jaejoong bent his knees, lifted his arm or turned his body. Each picture showed a man in utter abandon, full of unfulfilled need. He heard Jaejoong’s breath speed up as Yoochun told him to spread his knees, lift his legs, tease his entrance with those perfect fingers.
Yoochun’s mouth watered as he zoomed in on Jaejoong’s pink entrance. He focused on it, Jaejoong’s pained face faded in the back. And then he changed the zoom without telling Jaejoong, and snapped pictures of his face full of tears while Yoochun systematically took pictures.
The last picture on the roll was of the pad of Jaejoong’s finger pushed lightly against his hole.
“Kneel,” Yoochun said, voice breaking on the word.
Jaejoong sniffed, and Yoochun turned away to get another roll of film. He had to take a few deep breaths to keep himself under control as he changed film.
His body froze for a moment as he looked at Jaejoong. Knees digging into the earth, slightly spread, head lowered on his arms. His body shook. Yoochun took pictures with the river in the background, moving closer and closer as he focused again on Jaejoong’s ass.
Uncharacteristically, he reached out and touched Jaejoong’s pale skin, catching his fingertips in the bottom of the frame of a picture. He let his fingers run up and down the cleft of Jaejoong’s ass. Jaejoong shivered uncontrollably, and then moaned when Yoochun pushed against his entrance.
Yoochun never let himself be in the pictures of he took of Jaejoong. Maybe that’s why he never felt he belonged in the other’s life.
“You don’t really need me, do you Jaejoong?” he whispered.
Jaejoong flinched.
Yoochun brought his hand up to this mouth, covering a single finger in spit. He slowly pushed it into Jaejoong’s clenching body, leaving it there while he snapped blurry images. Or maybe the pictures weren’t blurry, just his own focus as tears spilled over his cheeks.
Yoochun desperately wanted to fuck him. He brought his hand back and spanked that pale skin harshly. Jaejoong yelped, but didn’t move.
Yoochun watched, mesmerized as the pink hand printed faded.
He slapped him again, and this time took a picture of the abused skin. He could not bring himself to spank him again. He pushed his finger into Jaejoong’s body one more time, rolled it around the rugged edge of his entrance and then pulled away. He wished he had a video camera, to capture the way Jaejoong’s body begged for attention.
Yoochun moved to the front of Jaejoong, crouching before taking pictures of his ass in the air.
“Look at me,” Yoochun said.
“I’d rather not,” Jaejoong whispered into his arm, body shaking.
Yoochun wished he could capture that pain in his camera. He probably could if Jaejoong would let him see his eyes. He zoomed in on the part of his face he could see. The fall of hair over his forehead, the way his cheek pressed against his arm. Again he reached out, running fingers through his hair before taking a picture. The sunlight turned the picture golden.
“Why do you put up with me?” Jaejoong grumbled into his arm.
“Because I love you.”
“Why do you love me?”
“You know I can’t answer that. Look at me.”
Jaejoong sniffed once and then lifted his eyes. Yoochun was ready and snapped a picture of the pain in his eyes before Jaejoong could hide it. Jaejoong’s eyes shut, tears trailed down his cheeks and Yoochun took more pictures.
“Stop it,” Jaejoong said. He turned away completely, sitting, curling in on himself, back to Yoochun. The curve of his body registered rejection in Yoochun’s camera. He took pictures, the curves of Jaejoong’s ass was pink from the strain. His knuckles white where they gripped his sides.
“I love you because you’re not perfect,” Yoochun whispered. “You’re broken and you’re … I don’t know how to explain it, Jaejoong. I fell in love with Hero because he had no worries, no cares. Nothing. He did what he had to do with no remorse. I wanted to be like that. I needed to be like that, so I fell in love with the one person like that in my life. I fell in love with you because you do care. You have remorse, you give and you give and you give. Even when you had nothing, you gave it to others. And not just money, but concern, support, strength. I love you because I have none of that without you. You mean everything to me. And yes, I should be able to have my own strength and be whole without you, but in order to do that, I’d have to let you go. And I will not, will not, let that happen.”
Jaejoong looked over his shoulder at Yoochun. The pain and accusation in his eyes froze Yoochun to the spot, and he should have taken a picture, but couldn’t. Jaejoong turned back and the moment broke.
“Did you ever stop to think that I need someone to give me support and strength? That maybe I don’t have as much of it as you think I do and I’m slowly wearing myself out trying to be everything you need me to be when I don’t even know what I need to be for myself? I’m everything you need? Well, that’s great. But what if I need more than what you can give me?”
“Do you?”
“Most nights.”
Yoochun’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His knees gave and he landed hard on the ground, barely remembering to cradle his camera. He stared without blinking at his lover. The other half of his soul. Wet dripped down his cheeks.
Jaejoong’s body shook and shivered.
Yoochun swallowed, blinked and then looked around. He crawled to where Jaejoong had tossed his clothes, picking up his hoody. He crawled over to Jaejoong, uncaring of the mud and dirt now caked in his jeans. He settled the fabric over Jaejoong’s shoulders.
Jaejoong pushed him away.
Yoochun fell back with a surprised grunt, catching himself on his hands. Jaejoong tugged at the hoody, trying to cover more of himself, and Yoochun could not stop himself from lifting the camera for a couple more shots. The camera showed a man abused, shamed, hurting.
For once, the pictures of Jaejoong would not lie.
“Fuck you,” Jaejoong muttered.
Yoochun did not know what to do. Part of him wanted to force Jaejoong to face this. Force him into a physical confrontation, but he did not want that. He didn’t want to face that anymore than Jaejoong did. He stood up carefully, legs shaking and weak. Crying? Yeah, he was still crying. He’d probably cry all the way back to the city.
He turned his back on Jaejoong’s muffled cries and clambered up the embankment to his car. He missed the handle the first time, opened the door the second. He should have gotten a keyless start car. His vision blurred too much to even get his key in the ignition. There was no way he could drive home like this. The engine roared to life.
He put his head on the steering wheel and let his gasping, painful cries echo in the interior of the car. He cried until he thought he was going to be sick and then he opened the door just in case.
An echo of his name pounded through his head. He shook his head and then leaned it against the seat. Tears continued to drip down his face, mouth open in heaving gasps.
“Chunnie, please, don’t … don’t leave. Please don’t.”
Warm hands touched his cheeks. Weight landed in his lap.
“Please, don’t … not like this, not-“ Jaejoong broke off with a whimper.
Yoochun slowly put his arms around Jaejoong’s naked, shivering body. He cried into Yoochun’s shirt.
“I can’t let you go, Jaejoong,” Yoochun said. “I just said that. But I have no control if you let me go. It wouldn’t be me leaving.”
“How could I leave you, huh?”
Yoochun let himself relax, but only a little. Jaejoong pressed a kiss to the skin showing from his button-down shirt.
“Don’t stay for me,” Yoochun said. “I’d survive. I’d drink more, smoke more, do the business thing like Daddy wants. I’d be miserable and bitchy and an alcoholic, but I’d survive.”
“I wouldn’t,” Jaejoong muttered. His fingertips were brown from the ground. They left smudges on Yoochun’s white shirt as Jaejoong loosened each button, searching for more skin to kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I may be a masochist, but that is not pain I’d want to live through. I … I don’t think I would.”
“Don’t say you’ll kill yourself if…”
“Not on purpose,” he said, lips finally landing against Yoochun’s breastbone. His breath warmed clear to Yoochun’s heart. “But I’d probably refuse to come out of my room and not eat or drink or do anything but stare into space wondering why I was dumb enough to leave the one man who loved me more than he loved himself.”
Yoochun cupped Jaejoong’s face in his hands and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Jaejoong whimpered into it, clutching Yoochun’s wrists.
“I love you,” Yoochun whispered into Jaejoong’s hair.
Jaejoong’s body shivered.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Please, let me love you. Stop telling me I can’t. Stop feeling like I shouldn’t. You are everything that I need, baby. Everything. Maybe … maybe if you’d let me love you, then you could love yourself, and then understand why I love you so much.”
Jaejoong pressed a wet, tear-stained cheek to Yoochun’s neck. “B-but … what if you don’t really love me? What if I don’t really love you? What if they’re just words that mask the feelings of familiarity and … ”
Yoochun smiled. He lifted Jaejoong’s face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye, salty tears staining his lips. “How much do you hurt when you think of me not loving you?”
“A lot.”
Yoochun nodded. “Same here. They aren’t just words, Jaejoong. When your heart hurts that much at the thought of me not being in your life, then they aren’t just words.”
Jaejoong shook his head, unconvinced, but for now it would be enough. Yoochun kissed his quivering lips.
“You’re naked,” he said.
Jaejoong let himself laugh. “Yeah.”
Yoochun’s hands trailed down Jaejoong’s shoulders, his back, pulling him impossibly closer in the small space. Jaejoong curled into his body, head under Yoochun’s chin. Yoochun held him for a long time. The sunlight turned golden in the late afternoon.
“You should go get your clothes, and then we should go home. We have a show tonight.”
Jaejoong smiled regretfully. “Always a show. Always something.”
Yoochun nodded. “Let’s plan a vacation. We’ll go to Greece, or Paris, or Barcelona.”
“Or all three?”
“Or all three.” Their lips met again.
Part of Yoochun felt like this was not the end of the discussion. Like they’d only pushed the issues to the side for a moment. They were good at that. Yoochun knew this would come up again. But with Jaejoong’s naked body in his arms, happiness flooded him. For a moment the despair had ebbed. This feeling, this love, it was what he stayed for. Jaejoong made him feel like no one else ever had or ever could.
Part 15: Break Time
Part 13: Strictly Professional
Part 12: Letter of Resignation
Part 11: Business Meeting
Part 10: Inter-Office Romance
Part 9: Background Check
Part 8: Hands On Training
Part 7: Strengthening Employee Relationships
Part 6: Shitty Customers
Part 5: Office Politics
Part 4: The Office Sluts
Part 3: A Trip to the Office
Part 2: A Few More Questions
Part 1: The Job Interview
.
Pairing: Various but will include Changmin/Jaejoong, Changmin/Yoochun, Changmin/Jaejoong/Yoochun, Junsu/Junho, Kouyou/Changmin, Hangeng/Jungmo/Heechul ... lots and lots
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If they were really escorts, I would buy them for a night, and then I would own them, but ... yeah, I don't now.
Summary: Shim Changmin is the son of a wealthy business man. He's working his way through college. When a paper for his Human Sexuality class is assigned, he decides he wants to do something that no other student has done before. But what seems like an easy project turns into a emotional battle to decide what is most important.
Poster credit goes to ponyboy!!!
Warnings: Incest (Junsu/Junho)
Pairings this chapter: minor!Jaejoong/Changmin, minor!Yunho/Changmin
Hey guys! Don't forget to make a poster for this fic! We'll have a vote for it soon! Post your entries here: http://be-dell-addict.livejournal.com/38106.html
Part 14: Consolidating and Restructuring
“What were you planning on wearing tonight?” Kouyou asked.
Jungmo waved a hand at him, unwilling to let Changmin go. “Whatever. You pick something. I’ll dress to match.”
“Oh, god, this is why I don’t do shows with you.”
Jungmo smirked down at Changmin as Kouyou left the living room.
“He has control issues,” Jungmo explained.
Junho snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“I noticed,” Changmin said. “He did have me tied up a few days ago.”
They laughed. Changmin resettled against Jungmo’s chest, moving his arm. The floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, and he could have joined Junho and Junsu on the couch. But that meant getting up.
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you now?” Junsu asked. His hand landed softly on Changmin’s shoulder.
Changmin shut his eyes and took a deep breath of Jungmo’s cologne. “Just … I don’t know. I don’t think I could ever do this.”
“This?” Jungmo said, prompting.
“Yeah, this.”
“And does this have anything to do with the marks on your wrists?” Junho asked.
Changmin absently rubbed one of his wrists as he nodded. “Yunho confronted me while I was swimming this morning, and the idea of me being Max is … It was weird. He wasn’t fucking me. He was fucking Max, and …”
“You do know you don’t have to explain this to us,” Jungmo said. “We get it.”
“I know, but I don’t get how you can do that. How …”
“It’s a job, Changmin,” Junho said. “You’re a business man, right? When you sit in a meeting, you project a different air, a different personality. We do that, too. If your emotions get involved, things get fucked.”
Jungmo laughed. “Yeah, like if some client tries to touch Junsu.”
Junho scowled. “Shut up.”
Junsu smiled and pressed a kiss to Junho’s neck. “I love it when he’s overprotective.”
Changmin sighed. “Sex has always been just sex to me. I mean, I’m a college student. And I’m rich. And I’m good looking-“
“And so humble,” Jungmo muttered.
“But this … I’ve never felt used before. Ever. And this makes me wonder how many people I’ve had sex with that felt used and dirty afterwards. And then I feel guilty, and then I feel dirty again, and then I remember how hot it was and I get horny, and then I feel dirty because I shouldn’t get turned on by it.” He broke off and then sighed again. “Before the show, Kyuhyun tried to explain that sex is different with someone you love, or with someone you care about, and I didn’t fully get it until this morning. I don’t think I’d call Yunho a friend, but we have a mutual respect for each other. Or we did. Now, I’m just some piece of ass for him to fuck.”
Jungmo held him more tightly.
“I think I’m going to wear this.”
Changmin turned his head and his jaw dropped. Kouyou and purple. That’s all his mind processed at first, and then creamy thighs, sloping shoulders, more purple and more purple.
Jungmo whistled. “Good one. I can’t wait to take it off you.”
“What are you going to wear?” Kouyou asked.
“I don’t know. Clothes.”
“MoMo, come on.”
“Uruha, fuck off. We have a few hours.”
Kouyou glared at him for a moment longer, arms crossed. In that outfit. That hair styled.
Changmin shivered.
“What?” Jungmo asked.
“He makes me want to do everything he asks and crawl after him like a puppy,” Changmin said.
They all laughed.
“Then I’m definitely wearing this outfit,” Kouyou said.
“I better get up and make him happy,” Jungmo said. He pressed a kiss to Changmin’s forehead. “Go cuddle with the Twins.”
“Naw. Yoochun says I’m supposed to go to as many shows as I can, so I need to go to my dorm and work on my paper while I’ve got some time.”
“All right. I’ll see you tonight.” Jungmo kissed Changmin again.
Changmin sat up, back against the couch. Junsu’s fingers trailed through his hair. His eyes shut and he sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the soft touch. Junsu shifted behind him, and then Changmin grunted as Junsu fell in his lap.
“Don’t worry too much, Minnie,” Junsu said, curling against him. Changmin rested his cheek against the top of Junsu’s head, arms circling around him. Junho’s fingers replaced Junsu’s in his hair. “This is why we’re escorts, and not full blown hookers. Tonight, Uruha and MoMo will probably have sex with their client, but here, now, they’re Kouyou and Jungmo. We actually don’t fuck our clients as much as you think we do. Just each other.”
“Isn’t that worse, though?” Changmin asked. “Last night, I felt like I was watching a private moment between Kouyou and Kibum. It was … intrusive.”
Junsu smiled up at him. “We’re actors, Minnie. If they made you feel like that, then they did their jobs well.”
“I better go,” Changmin said with a sigh.
“I could suck you off and make you feel better,” Junsu said with another smile. “And Junho can fuck you while I do that. That should make you feel better.” He moved again until he was straddling Changmin’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist.
Changmin grinned back and shook his head. “No …” He made a face. “I just don’t think I ever want to have sex again.”
Junsu pouted. “That’s not fair. What about the rest of us? You’re going to deprive us of your perfect body?”
Changmin chuckled and kissed him lightly. “Okay, okay. So I just don’t want to have sex again today. Better?”
Junsu nodded. “Much.”
Junho carefully took his arm and pulled him. Junsu followed the lead and climbed off Changmin’s lap and into his brother’s. They rearranged on the couch. Changmin turned to them, laying his head on the soft fabric. Junho traced his face with his fingertips.
“It gets easier,” Junho whispered.
Changmin nodded, eyes shutting as lips pressed against his. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
----
Yoochun followed Jaejoong down the embankment. The river gurgled innocently. A raging torrent would have been better for the emotions running through the two of them. Yoochun pointed to the concrete base of the bridge, and Jaejoong moved over to it. Yoochun analyzed the lighting and decided the shadows were all right for now. He lifted the camera and snapped a shot of Jaejoong staring out over the water.
Jaejoong, hearing the shutter whir, turned and grinned at Yoochun. “I’m not naked yet.”
“Get naked.”
As Jaejoong gripped the bottom of his tank top, Yoochun started taking pictures.
Jaejoong’s beauty always left him speechless. Even now, when Jaejoong was merely taking off his clothes, not stripping, but just getting naked, it was hard not to fall in love with him all over again.
Yoochun figured that was the point of this anyway. A reminder of what he promised to love and protect and cherish with all his heart.
“Beautiful, Jae,” Yoochun muttered, focusing the picture on Jaejoong’s bare hipbone.
A heated blush covered Jaejoong’s skin. He looked down, biting his lower lip. Yoochun had seen him do that more times than not. Jaejoong was not embarrassed about being naked. Even here where anyone could see. Yoochun snapped a picture of the moment, even if it was faked. He snapped more pictures of Jaejoong against the gray concrete.
The camera whirred, the roll of film empty. Yoochun moved to where he’d dropped the bag, not looking at Jaejoong. His emotions were still too choppy to really look at the man he loved so much.
“I shouldn’t have made you promise to be exclusive,” Jaejoong whispered.
Yoochun concentrated on putting in a new roll of film. “You didn’t make me.”
“I shouldn’t have suggested it then. It’s not fair to you. And you’re hurting.”
Yoochun looked up then. “I’m used to hurting when it comes to loving you.” He turned away before he could see Jaejoong’s reaction to that comment.
“I don’t know what … I … Yoochun, I love you.”
Yoochun nodded. “I know. Go sit by the river.”
After a tense moment, Jaejoong complied. Yoochun turned around, camera poised and took a few pictures of Jaejoong, feet in the water, arms behind him. He moved closer to take shots of his pale body against the dark earth. He circled around him, heart clenching, eyes stinging with tears as he captured the perfect image of his lover.
“I know why I’m so comfortable like this,” Yoochun said, focusing on the curve of Jaejoong’s shoulder. “Turn your chin to me.” He snapped a picture of the perfection in his lens.
“Why?”
“Because it’s like my life. I’m not really in your life, just viewing you through a lens.”
Jaejoong frowned, eyes hooded.
Yoochun took another picture.
“You’re part of my life,” he protested.
“Am I? Or am I only on the peripheral edge? Something to focus on when you need to, ignore when you don’t.”
Jaejoong turned his upper body towards Yoochun, and Yoochun saw a beautiful angle. He kneeled, turned his camera. Jaejoong’s entire back filled the frame, a single eye, pouty lower lip. In the background was the blurred image of his bent knee.
A tear dripped over his cheek. Yoochun focused on the tear and snapped a picture before he lost the image.
“You really think I ignore you?” Jaejoong whispered.
“Not on purpose.”
“How can you say that?”
Yoochun sighed and lowered his camera, resting it on his knees. He kept his head lowered because if he looked up at Jaejoong, he’d cave and crawl to him. The camera was his barrier.
“Is this conversation going to end up breaking my heart?” Jaejoong whispered.
Yoochun smiled and shook his head. “No. Mine either, but that’s because mine is already broken.” He ignored Jaejoong’s pained noise and stood up quickly. He checked his film. There were a few more pictures on this roll. He lifted it to his eye, focusing on Jaejoong’s naked body again.
“Lay down,” he whispered.
Jaejoong did not protest, lying in the soft earth at the edge of the river. Yoochun stood over him. He angled the camera to get the expanse of Jaejoong’s body, and then stepped back until the angle was right.
“Touch yourself,” he whispered.
Jaejoong’s fingers trailed up his stomach, to his nipple. The other hand curled around his hip. His cock slowly hardened.
So did Yoochun’s. He loved watching Jaejoong touch himself.
He stepped to the side, focusing on Jae’s lower half. He whispered commands and Jaejoong bent his knees, lifted his arm or turned his body. Each picture showed a man in utter abandon, full of unfulfilled need. He heard Jaejoong’s breath speed up as Yoochun told him to spread his knees, lift his legs, tease his entrance with those perfect fingers.
Yoochun’s mouth watered as he zoomed in on Jaejoong’s pink entrance. He focused on it, Jaejoong’s pained face faded in the back. And then he changed the zoom without telling Jaejoong, and snapped pictures of his face full of tears while Yoochun systematically took pictures.
The last picture on the roll was of the pad of Jaejoong’s finger pushed lightly against his hole.
“Kneel,” Yoochun said, voice breaking on the word.
Jaejoong sniffed, and Yoochun turned away to get another roll of film. He had to take a few deep breaths to keep himself under control as he changed film.
His body froze for a moment as he looked at Jaejoong. Knees digging into the earth, slightly spread, head lowered on his arms. His body shook. Yoochun took pictures with the river in the background, moving closer and closer as he focused again on Jaejoong’s ass.
Uncharacteristically, he reached out and touched Jaejoong’s pale skin, catching his fingertips in the bottom of the frame of a picture. He let his fingers run up and down the cleft of Jaejoong’s ass. Jaejoong shivered uncontrollably, and then moaned when Yoochun pushed against his entrance.
Yoochun never let himself be in the pictures of he took of Jaejoong. Maybe that’s why he never felt he belonged in the other’s life.
“You don’t really need me, do you Jaejoong?” he whispered.
Jaejoong flinched.
Yoochun brought his hand up to this mouth, covering a single finger in spit. He slowly pushed it into Jaejoong’s clenching body, leaving it there while he snapped blurry images. Or maybe the pictures weren’t blurry, just his own focus as tears spilled over his cheeks.
Yoochun desperately wanted to fuck him. He brought his hand back and spanked that pale skin harshly. Jaejoong yelped, but didn’t move.
Yoochun watched, mesmerized as the pink hand printed faded.
He slapped him again, and this time took a picture of the abused skin. He could not bring himself to spank him again. He pushed his finger into Jaejoong’s body one more time, rolled it around the rugged edge of his entrance and then pulled away. He wished he had a video camera, to capture the way Jaejoong’s body begged for attention.
Yoochun moved to the front of Jaejoong, crouching before taking pictures of his ass in the air.
“Look at me,” Yoochun said.
“I’d rather not,” Jaejoong whispered into his arm, body shaking.
Yoochun wished he could capture that pain in his camera. He probably could if Jaejoong would let him see his eyes. He zoomed in on the part of his face he could see. The fall of hair over his forehead, the way his cheek pressed against his arm. Again he reached out, running fingers through his hair before taking a picture. The sunlight turned the picture golden.
“Why do you put up with me?” Jaejoong grumbled into his arm.
“Because I love you.”
“Why do you love me?”
“You know I can’t answer that. Look at me.”
Jaejoong sniffed once and then lifted his eyes. Yoochun was ready and snapped a picture of the pain in his eyes before Jaejoong could hide it. Jaejoong’s eyes shut, tears trailed down his cheeks and Yoochun took more pictures.
“Stop it,” Jaejoong said. He turned away completely, sitting, curling in on himself, back to Yoochun. The curve of his body registered rejection in Yoochun’s camera. He took pictures, the curves of Jaejoong’s ass was pink from the strain. His knuckles white where they gripped his sides.
“I love you because you’re not perfect,” Yoochun whispered. “You’re broken and you’re … I don’t know how to explain it, Jaejoong. I fell in love with Hero because he had no worries, no cares. Nothing. He did what he had to do with no remorse. I wanted to be like that. I needed to be like that, so I fell in love with the one person like that in my life. I fell in love with you because you do care. You have remorse, you give and you give and you give. Even when you had nothing, you gave it to others. And not just money, but concern, support, strength. I love you because I have none of that without you. You mean everything to me. And yes, I should be able to have my own strength and be whole without you, but in order to do that, I’d have to let you go. And I will not, will not, let that happen.”
Jaejoong looked over his shoulder at Yoochun. The pain and accusation in his eyes froze Yoochun to the spot, and he should have taken a picture, but couldn’t. Jaejoong turned back and the moment broke.
“Did you ever stop to think that I need someone to give me support and strength? That maybe I don’t have as much of it as you think I do and I’m slowly wearing myself out trying to be everything you need me to be when I don’t even know what I need to be for myself? I’m everything you need? Well, that’s great. But what if I need more than what you can give me?”
“Do you?”
“Most nights.”
Yoochun’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His knees gave and he landed hard on the ground, barely remembering to cradle his camera. He stared without blinking at his lover. The other half of his soul. Wet dripped down his cheeks.
Jaejoong’s body shook and shivered.
Yoochun swallowed, blinked and then looked around. He crawled to where Jaejoong had tossed his clothes, picking up his hoody. He crawled over to Jaejoong, uncaring of the mud and dirt now caked in his jeans. He settled the fabric over Jaejoong’s shoulders.
Jaejoong pushed him away.
Yoochun fell back with a surprised grunt, catching himself on his hands. Jaejoong tugged at the hoody, trying to cover more of himself, and Yoochun could not stop himself from lifting the camera for a couple more shots. The camera showed a man abused, shamed, hurting.
For once, the pictures of Jaejoong would not lie.
“Fuck you,” Jaejoong muttered.
Yoochun did not know what to do. Part of him wanted to force Jaejoong to face this. Force him into a physical confrontation, but he did not want that. He didn’t want to face that anymore than Jaejoong did. He stood up carefully, legs shaking and weak. Crying? Yeah, he was still crying. He’d probably cry all the way back to the city.
He turned his back on Jaejoong’s muffled cries and clambered up the embankment to his car. He missed the handle the first time, opened the door the second. He should have gotten a keyless start car. His vision blurred too much to even get his key in the ignition. There was no way he could drive home like this. The engine roared to life.
He put his head on the steering wheel and let his gasping, painful cries echo in the interior of the car. He cried until he thought he was going to be sick and then he opened the door just in case.
An echo of his name pounded through his head. He shook his head and then leaned it against the seat. Tears continued to drip down his face, mouth open in heaving gasps.
“Chunnie, please, don’t … don’t leave. Please don’t.”
Warm hands touched his cheeks. Weight landed in his lap.
“Please, don’t … not like this, not-“ Jaejoong broke off with a whimper.
Yoochun slowly put his arms around Jaejoong’s naked, shivering body. He cried into Yoochun’s shirt.
“I can’t let you go, Jaejoong,” Yoochun said. “I just said that. But I have no control if you let me go. It wouldn’t be me leaving.”
“How could I leave you, huh?”
Yoochun let himself relax, but only a little. Jaejoong pressed a kiss to the skin showing from his button-down shirt.
“Don’t stay for me,” Yoochun said. “I’d survive. I’d drink more, smoke more, do the business thing like Daddy wants. I’d be miserable and bitchy and an alcoholic, but I’d survive.”
“I wouldn’t,” Jaejoong muttered. His fingertips were brown from the ground. They left smudges on Yoochun’s white shirt as Jaejoong loosened each button, searching for more skin to kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I may be a masochist, but that is not pain I’d want to live through. I … I don’t think I would.”
“Don’t say you’ll kill yourself if…”
“Not on purpose,” he said, lips finally landing against Yoochun’s breastbone. His breath warmed clear to Yoochun’s heart. “But I’d probably refuse to come out of my room and not eat or drink or do anything but stare into space wondering why I was dumb enough to leave the one man who loved me more than he loved himself.”
Yoochun cupped Jaejoong’s face in his hands and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Jaejoong whimpered into it, clutching Yoochun’s wrists.
“I love you,” Yoochun whispered into Jaejoong’s hair.
Jaejoong’s body shivered.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Please, let me love you. Stop telling me I can’t. Stop feeling like I shouldn’t. You are everything that I need, baby. Everything. Maybe … maybe if you’d let me love you, then you could love yourself, and then understand why I love you so much.”
Jaejoong pressed a wet, tear-stained cheek to Yoochun’s neck. “B-but … what if you don’t really love me? What if I don’t really love you? What if they’re just words that mask the feelings of familiarity and … ”
Yoochun smiled. He lifted Jaejoong’s face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye, salty tears staining his lips. “How much do you hurt when you think of me not loving you?”
“A lot.”
Yoochun nodded. “Same here. They aren’t just words, Jaejoong. When your heart hurts that much at the thought of me not being in your life, then they aren’t just words.”
Jaejoong shook his head, unconvinced, but for now it would be enough. Yoochun kissed his quivering lips.
“You’re naked,” he said.
Jaejoong let himself laugh. “Yeah.”
Yoochun’s hands trailed down Jaejoong’s shoulders, his back, pulling him impossibly closer in the small space. Jaejoong curled into his body, head under Yoochun’s chin. Yoochun held him for a long time. The sunlight turned golden in the late afternoon.
“You should go get your clothes, and then we should go home. We have a show tonight.”
Jaejoong smiled regretfully. “Always a show. Always something.”
Yoochun nodded. “Let’s plan a vacation. We’ll go to Greece, or Paris, or Barcelona.”
“Or all three?”
“Or all three.” Their lips met again.
Part of Yoochun felt like this was not the end of the discussion. Like they’d only pushed the issues to the side for a moment. They were good at that. Yoochun knew this would come up again. But with Jaejoong’s naked body in his arms, happiness flooded him. For a moment the despair had ebbed. This feeling, this love, it was what he stayed for. Jaejoong made him feel like no one else ever had or ever could.
Part 15: Break Time
Part 13: Strictly Professional
Part 12: Letter of Resignation
Part 11: Business Meeting
Part 10: Inter-Office Romance
Part 9: Background Check
Part 8: Hands On Training
Part 7: Strengthening Employee Relationships
Part 6: Shitty Customers
Part 5: Office Politics
Part 4: The Office Sluts
Part 3: A Trip to the Office
Part 2: A Few More Questions
Part 1: The Job Interview
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