Follow Me 3/?
Title: Follow Me 3/?
Pairing: Changmin/Yoochun
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't mine to stalk or love or protect.
Summary: Changmin has a fascination with a street boy named Micky, but what will it take for Micky to trust him and follow him to something better?
Warnings: prostitution, small amount of incest, mentions of previous physical and sexual abuse, rape, pedophilia, and violence
Part 3:
Pretty much inspired by this picture:
Half-asleep, pleasure twisting up his spine, tingles zooming along his skin, and a hot mouth working at his cock. There were worse ways to wake up.
“Fuck,” Changmin muttered, trying to decide if he was dreaming. But no, his skin felt sweaty, his legs were pinned. Opening his eyes, he had to blink to clear his blurry vision. The sight of Micky between his legs, mouth on his cock, up and down, lips wet and red, hand gripping his balls, had Changmin coming, shouting out the last of his delusions and whimpering at the sensitive touch of Micky’s mouth.
Micky let go with his hand and took Changmin down to the hilt, on the way back up, Changmin quaked through his orgasm and his warning was lost as he came. Micky did not gag and Changmin’s vision went spotty and he moaned, fingers tangling in Micky’s hair.
“Not fair,” Changmin managed.
Micky laughed, vibrations along his body and skin. He pulled off, and Changmin noted the condom on his dick and was disappointed that Micky hadn’t tasted him. Wasn’t his lover. Just a whore. He trailed his finger down Micky’s cheek.
“Fuck.”
Micky smirked and climbed over his lap. He sat firmly with his ass on Changmin’s thighs and then ran his hands up and down Changmin’s abs. “You’re sexy. I wanted to suck on your cock. And you wouldn’t let me if you knew.”
Changmin threw an arm over his face. Micky trailed his fingers up his side, to his armpit, and Changmin shivered from the tickle it caused.
“And your alarm went off and you slept through it.”
Changmin sat up with a shout, toppling Micky off him and then off the futon. Changmin scrambled to the floor to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
“Fuck, sorry.”
Micky laughed, and then laughed harder as the condom slipped off Changmin’s dick and landed on the floor, expelling its contents.
“Fuck.”
Micky continued to laugh and pulled Changmin down on top of him. Changmin put his hands on either side of Micky’s head, and only sort of fought the tug and then the lips against his.
Micky ran his hands all over Changmin’s bare back, down to his ass, and up around his neck. The kiss was almost violent, definitely intense, stealing Changmin’s ability to breathe or think beyond the moment.
Until his phone started beeping. Right.
He’d set two alarms, just in case he slept through the first one. He pulled away and sighed.
Micky smiled up at him. “You have to get up?”
Changmin nodded. “You can stay,” he added, “if you need to. Just lock the door on your way out.”
His smiled widened. “I’d like that actually.”
“No one to run home to?” Changmin asked. He knew he was prying. He was surprised that Micky wasn’t upset.
Micky chuckled. “Maybe.” He touched Changmin’s cheek. “I like you, Mister Mysterious.”
Even as Changmin leaned into the touch, he said, “That is more of a title for you than for me.”
“Maybe,” he said again. “You better get up even though I want you to bend me in half and fuck me into this floor.”
Changmin groaned, suddenly remembering that his hips were against Micky’s, flush together, cock against cock, and he rocked slowly, leaning down for another kiss.
“Next time,” Micky whispered. “You need to go to work.”
Changmin nodded. He moved a few more times and then pushed himself up. Micky trailed his fingertips down Changmin’s abs.
“God, don’t do that,” Changmin said, shivering and just barely keeping himself from falling back down, arms strained.
“Next time I’ll trace them with my tongue.”
“Fuck.” Changmin forced himself away, onto his feet, to the door. Micky’s laughter followed him across the hall and into the bathroom. He took an extra long shower even if jerking off only took five minutes with the thought and memories of Micky’s mouth on his cock. He stood under the spray and tried to think of ways to show Micky how much Changmin liked him. How much Changmin wanted to date him, protect him. Keep him.
Changmin sighed as he dried off. He was quiet as he got dressed. Micky was cocooned in his blankets and pillows, with only having a futon, he needed lots of pillows to be comfortable. It was very tempting to climb in under the covers with him.
As he headed toward the door, he had a thought. He stopped, took out his wallet, and a hundred dollar bill. He also left a note, telling Micky to take some food home with him. He signed the note “Mister Mysterious.”
---
When Changmin staggered back into his apartment, at almost ten in the morning, he almost missed the note on his counter. And the hundred dollar bill had been folded into an origami heart.
A few hearts had been drawn around the edges of the note he had left, and underneath it, Micky had written:
You shouldn’t pay your dates if you do not want them to feel like hookers afterwards. Call me when you get home. I programed my number into your phone last night. Talk to you soon!
Park Yoochun aka: The Other Mister Mysterious
Park Yoochun.
Changmin leaned hard against his counter. Park Yoochun. His name was Park Yoochun.
Changmin dropped his phone twice before holding it in shaking hands and finding Yoochun’s name programed into his phone. His finger hovered over the call icon and then he pressed it. The phone was shaking against his ear. He had to sit. And he collapsed into his chair just as someone answered.
“Hello?”
The voice was deeper on the phone.
Changmin could not reply. Barely breathe.
There was soft laughter. “Even mysterious on the phone, huh?”
“H-hi,” Changmin managed.
“Hi.”
“I .. you ... I ... sorry. I ... fuck ... Yoochun. Fuck.”
Yoochun laughed, the sound muffled. “I’ll talk for a little while since you can’t seem to, if that’s okay with you.”
Changmin made a noise.
Yoochun took it as affirmation. “Thank you for letting me take some food home. It saves me a little bit of money that I can use for medicine.”
“Medicine?”
“Yeah.” He did not elaborate. “How was your day at work?”
“Thought about you,” Changmin said, whispering. He couldn’t get his voice any louder, still in shock.
Micky ... Yoochun ...
Yoochun chuckled. “You must be tired.”
Changmin swallowed, nodded, remembered Yoochun was not actually there and said, “Yeah. A little.”
“I’ll let you go.”
This time, his noise was one of protest, and Yoochun laughed again. “Silly, I’ll talk to you again. I was going to ask if you wanted to meet later, after you’ve slept.”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. Go and sleep. Call me when you wake up.”
“I will. God, Yoochun-ah, I ...”
Yoochun laughed. “I know. Sleep well.”
“You ... yeah.”
Yoochun said goodbye, and Changmin sat stunned with the phone by his ear for a long moment afterward. He finally sagged into the chair, phone clattering to the floor. He leaned back and took a very deep breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He had not expected this at all, but he was not going to screw it up. He was not going to lose Micky. Lose Yoochun.
Yoochun. His name was Yoochun.
Changmin bolted out of the chair, went to the bathroom to take a shower, and this time, with his hand around his cock, he moaned “Yoochun” as he splattered his release all over the wall.
---
Changmin was never sure when Yoochun would show up at his apartment. Sometimes it was at three in the morning, sometimes five in the afternoon. He rarely went to Micky's light, and the thought that Yoochun still did that, still sold himself made Changmin half-angry, half-resigned, and mostly determined. He did not want Yoochun to do that anymore.
But any time Changmin tried to give Yoochun money, Yoochun refused to take it. Usually, he folded the bill into another pretty shape --a crane, a frog, a house, a cat-- and left it on his countertop. Even if Changmin had explained that it had never been a client paying a hooker to him, Yoochun still did not take his money. When Changmin handed him a key to his apartment, Yoochun stared at it for a moment, but eventually took it. That was enough.
And waking up with Yoochun against his body was Changmin’s new favorite thing. Well, second favorite. Yoochun loved to wake him up with a blowjob. They did not go further than that. Changmin understood. Yoochun was protecting himself and protecting his heart. Changmin was sure that Yoochun had never dated anyone, and Changmin’s experiences were limited to club hook ups that did not last more than a few weeks after.
This was different.
And as Changmin sat in his car, staring at Micky under the street light, he resigned himself to the fact that his boyfriend was a whore. A prostitute. A hooker. He could not stand it. He probably bent his steering wheel, gripping it tightly and growling when a man took Micky to an alley, or when Micky climbed into another man’s car. He almost demanded that Yoochun stop, that he quit selling himself.
But that wasn’t really fair when Yoochun obviously needed the money. He just hated sharing. He had never really been good at it.
Changmin waited until one in the morning before gliding to a stop in front of Micky's light.
Yoochun smiled widely and pushed off the wall. Changmin’s own smile was strained, and as soon as the door was shut, he drove away, saying nothing.
“Minnie-ah?” Yoochun said and touched his cheek.
Changmin jerked away from him.
Yoochun huffed and crossed his arms. “What’s wrong?”
Changmin took a very deep breath. He thought of lying, of staying silent, but knew he couldn’t. He had to be honest with Yoochun if this relationship was more than just Client-Hooker.
“I just ... I don’t like sharing you. At all.”
Yoochun chuckled. “I know. I do not plan on doing this forever.”
Changmin nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”
With another smile, Yoochun gripped Changmin’s thigh. “Let’s go somewhere different.”
“Okay.”
Changmin followed Yoochun’s directions to a city street about a half hour from Micky’s light, narrow and packed full of people even this early in the morning. There was a small area for parking and Yoochun shouted in joy that there was an empty space.
“Otherwise we’d be walking fifteen minutes.”
Changmin put the car into the small space and climbed out. He made sure it was locked, triple checking it because who knew in this neighborhood?
“Follow me,” Yoochun said and smiled.
Changmin’s chest tightened and he hurried after him. Around a corner, the throngs of clubbers and whores blocked their way, and Yoochun grabbed his hand to stay close. They were only out on the street for a short time before Yoochun ducked under an awning and went down some stairs. He led them into a club, the bass thumping along the walls. Changmin did not want to spend the night with other people in a club. He would have protested, but Yoochun pulled him along the inside wall, waved to the bartender and went through a door in the back.
The music still thudded along the walls, but it was a suggestion of privacy, silence. The only way to go was up a steep set of concrete stairs.
Yoochun kept hold of his hand and went up. At the top was another door. This one led out onto a roof, surrounded by neon lights and signs. And almost hidden in the corner was another set of stairs, and Yoochun went up them, through another door and into a short hallway. There were three doors in the hallway, and he slipped a key into a lock and opened it.
Changmin stepped in, and the door shut behind him. The first thing he noticed was the boy standing across the room from him, his mouth open in shock.
His hair was longer than Yoochun’s, pulled back away from a face that looked just like Yoochun’s, a little thinner, a little gaunter, and a little younger. He wore shorts and a tank top that looked like it was going to fall apart soon.
Yoochun shifted by Changmin and went to the other. “Hi, baby.” He hugged him, and the boy’s cheeks went pink, but he hugged Yoochun back. He said something that Changmin did not hear.
Changmin’s throat tightened as their lips just barely pressed together. He looked away from the tender moment.
The room was nothing but four walls. One corner held a single futon, a thin blanket, and a few pillows. A comfortable-looking chair was in another corner. There were plastic crates along the only wall with a window, and they were full of clothes, shoes, a few books. And the corner where the two boys still hugged held crates of food and a cooktop.
Yoochun had turned around, watching him, with his arms still around the boy. The boy had his face half-hidden in Yoochun’s neck.
“Baby, this is Changmin.”
The boy’s eyes went wide in understanding and he twisted behind Yoochun’s back. Yoochun chuckled.
“Changmin, this is my younger brother, Yoohwan.”
Part 4: Understanding
Part 2: Need
Part 1: Concern
.
Pairing: Changmin/Yoochun
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't mine to stalk or love or protect.
Summary: Changmin has a fascination with a street boy named Micky, but what will it take for Micky to trust him and follow him to something better?
Warnings: prostitution, small amount of incest, mentions of previous physical and sexual abuse, rape, pedophilia, and violence
Part 3:
Pretty much inspired by this picture:
Half-asleep, pleasure twisting up his spine, tingles zooming along his skin, and a hot mouth working at his cock. There were worse ways to wake up.
“Fuck,” Changmin muttered, trying to decide if he was dreaming. But no, his skin felt sweaty, his legs were pinned. Opening his eyes, he had to blink to clear his blurry vision. The sight of Micky between his legs, mouth on his cock, up and down, lips wet and red, hand gripping his balls, had Changmin coming, shouting out the last of his delusions and whimpering at the sensitive touch of Micky’s mouth.
Micky let go with his hand and took Changmin down to the hilt, on the way back up, Changmin quaked through his orgasm and his warning was lost as he came. Micky did not gag and Changmin’s vision went spotty and he moaned, fingers tangling in Micky’s hair.
“Not fair,” Changmin managed.
Micky laughed, vibrations along his body and skin. He pulled off, and Changmin noted the condom on his dick and was disappointed that Micky hadn’t tasted him. Wasn’t his lover. Just a whore. He trailed his finger down Micky’s cheek.
“Fuck.”
Micky smirked and climbed over his lap. He sat firmly with his ass on Changmin’s thighs and then ran his hands up and down Changmin’s abs. “You’re sexy. I wanted to suck on your cock. And you wouldn’t let me if you knew.”
Changmin threw an arm over his face. Micky trailed his fingers up his side, to his armpit, and Changmin shivered from the tickle it caused.
“And your alarm went off and you slept through it.”
Changmin sat up with a shout, toppling Micky off him and then off the futon. Changmin scrambled to the floor to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
“Fuck, sorry.”
Micky laughed, and then laughed harder as the condom slipped off Changmin’s dick and landed on the floor, expelling its contents.
“Fuck.”
Micky continued to laugh and pulled Changmin down on top of him. Changmin put his hands on either side of Micky’s head, and only sort of fought the tug and then the lips against his.
Micky ran his hands all over Changmin’s bare back, down to his ass, and up around his neck. The kiss was almost violent, definitely intense, stealing Changmin’s ability to breathe or think beyond the moment.
Until his phone started beeping. Right.
He’d set two alarms, just in case he slept through the first one. He pulled away and sighed.
Micky smiled up at him. “You have to get up?”
Changmin nodded. “You can stay,” he added, “if you need to. Just lock the door on your way out.”
His smiled widened. “I’d like that actually.”
“No one to run home to?” Changmin asked. He knew he was prying. He was surprised that Micky wasn’t upset.
Micky chuckled. “Maybe.” He touched Changmin’s cheek. “I like you, Mister Mysterious.”
Even as Changmin leaned into the touch, he said, “That is more of a title for you than for me.”
“Maybe,” he said again. “You better get up even though I want you to bend me in half and fuck me into this floor.”
Changmin groaned, suddenly remembering that his hips were against Micky’s, flush together, cock against cock, and he rocked slowly, leaning down for another kiss.
“Next time,” Micky whispered. “You need to go to work.”
Changmin nodded. He moved a few more times and then pushed himself up. Micky trailed his fingertips down Changmin’s abs.
“God, don’t do that,” Changmin said, shivering and just barely keeping himself from falling back down, arms strained.
“Next time I’ll trace them with my tongue.”
“Fuck.” Changmin forced himself away, onto his feet, to the door. Micky’s laughter followed him across the hall and into the bathroom. He took an extra long shower even if jerking off only took five minutes with the thought and memories of Micky’s mouth on his cock. He stood under the spray and tried to think of ways to show Micky how much Changmin liked him. How much Changmin wanted to date him, protect him. Keep him.
Changmin sighed as he dried off. He was quiet as he got dressed. Micky was cocooned in his blankets and pillows, with only having a futon, he needed lots of pillows to be comfortable. It was very tempting to climb in under the covers with him.
As he headed toward the door, he had a thought. He stopped, took out his wallet, and a hundred dollar bill. He also left a note, telling Micky to take some food home with him. He signed the note “Mister Mysterious.”
---
When Changmin staggered back into his apartment, at almost ten in the morning, he almost missed the note on his counter. And the hundred dollar bill had been folded into an origami heart.
A few hearts had been drawn around the edges of the note he had left, and underneath it, Micky had written:
You shouldn’t pay your dates if you do not want them to feel like hookers afterwards. Call me when you get home. I programed my number into your phone last night. Talk to you soon!
Park Yoochun aka: The Other Mister Mysterious
Park Yoochun.
Changmin leaned hard against his counter. Park Yoochun. His name was Park Yoochun.
Changmin dropped his phone twice before holding it in shaking hands and finding Yoochun’s name programed into his phone. His finger hovered over the call icon and then he pressed it. The phone was shaking against his ear. He had to sit. And he collapsed into his chair just as someone answered.
“Hello?”
The voice was deeper on the phone.
Changmin could not reply. Barely breathe.
There was soft laughter. “Even mysterious on the phone, huh?”
“H-hi,” Changmin managed.
“Hi.”
“I .. you ... I ... sorry. I ... fuck ... Yoochun. Fuck.”
Yoochun laughed, the sound muffled. “I’ll talk for a little while since you can’t seem to, if that’s okay with you.”
Changmin made a noise.
Yoochun took it as affirmation. “Thank you for letting me take some food home. It saves me a little bit of money that I can use for medicine.”
“Medicine?”
“Yeah.” He did not elaborate. “How was your day at work?”
“Thought about you,” Changmin said, whispering. He couldn’t get his voice any louder, still in shock.
Micky ... Yoochun ...
Yoochun chuckled. “You must be tired.”
Changmin swallowed, nodded, remembered Yoochun was not actually there and said, “Yeah. A little.”
“I’ll let you go.”
This time, his noise was one of protest, and Yoochun laughed again. “Silly, I’ll talk to you again. I was going to ask if you wanted to meet later, after you’ve slept.”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. Go and sleep. Call me when you wake up.”
“I will. God, Yoochun-ah, I ...”
Yoochun laughed. “I know. Sleep well.”
“You ... yeah.”
Yoochun said goodbye, and Changmin sat stunned with the phone by his ear for a long moment afterward. He finally sagged into the chair, phone clattering to the floor. He leaned back and took a very deep breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He had not expected this at all, but he was not going to screw it up. He was not going to lose Micky. Lose Yoochun.
Yoochun. His name was Yoochun.
Changmin bolted out of the chair, went to the bathroom to take a shower, and this time, with his hand around his cock, he moaned “Yoochun” as he splattered his release all over the wall.
---
Changmin was never sure when Yoochun would show up at his apartment. Sometimes it was at three in the morning, sometimes five in the afternoon. He rarely went to Micky's light, and the thought that Yoochun still did that, still sold himself made Changmin half-angry, half-resigned, and mostly determined. He did not want Yoochun to do that anymore.
But any time Changmin tried to give Yoochun money, Yoochun refused to take it. Usually, he folded the bill into another pretty shape --a crane, a frog, a house, a cat-- and left it on his countertop. Even if Changmin had explained that it had never been a client paying a hooker to him, Yoochun still did not take his money. When Changmin handed him a key to his apartment, Yoochun stared at it for a moment, but eventually took it. That was enough.
And waking up with Yoochun against his body was Changmin’s new favorite thing. Well, second favorite. Yoochun loved to wake him up with a blowjob. They did not go further than that. Changmin understood. Yoochun was protecting himself and protecting his heart. Changmin was sure that Yoochun had never dated anyone, and Changmin’s experiences were limited to club hook ups that did not last more than a few weeks after.
This was different.
And as Changmin sat in his car, staring at Micky under the street light, he resigned himself to the fact that his boyfriend was a whore. A prostitute. A hooker. He could not stand it. He probably bent his steering wheel, gripping it tightly and growling when a man took Micky to an alley, or when Micky climbed into another man’s car. He almost demanded that Yoochun stop, that he quit selling himself.
But that wasn’t really fair when Yoochun obviously needed the money. He just hated sharing. He had never really been good at it.
Changmin waited until one in the morning before gliding to a stop in front of Micky's light.
Yoochun smiled widely and pushed off the wall. Changmin’s own smile was strained, and as soon as the door was shut, he drove away, saying nothing.
“Minnie-ah?” Yoochun said and touched his cheek.
Changmin jerked away from him.
Yoochun huffed and crossed his arms. “What’s wrong?”
Changmin took a very deep breath. He thought of lying, of staying silent, but knew he couldn’t. He had to be honest with Yoochun if this relationship was more than just Client-Hooker.
“I just ... I don’t like sharing you. At all.”
Yoochun chuckled. “I know. I do not plan on doing this forever.”
Changmin nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”
With another smile, Yoochun gripped Changmin’s thigh. “Let’s go somewhere different.”
“Okay.”
Changmin followed Yoochun’s directions to a city street about a half hour from Micky’s light, narrow and packed full of people even this early in the morning. There was a small area for parking and Yoochun shouted in joy that there was an empty space.
“Otherwise we’d be walking fifteen minutes.”
Changmin put the car into the small space and climbed out. He made sure it was locked, triple checking it because who knew in this neighborhood?
“Follow me,” Yoochun said and smiled.
Changmin’s chest tightened and he hurried after him. Around a corner, the throngs of clubbers and whores blocked their way, and Yoochun grabbed his hand to stay close. They were only out on the street for a short time before Yoochun ducked under an awning and went down some stairs. He led them into a club, the bass thumping along the walls. Changmin did not want to spend the night with other people in a club. He would have protested, but Yoochun pulled him along the inside wall, waved to the bartender and went through a door in the back.
The music still thudded along the walls, but it was a suggestion of privacy, silence. The only way to go was up a steep set of concrete stairs.
Yoochun kept hold of his hand and went up. At the top was another door. This one led out onto a roof, surrounded by neon lights and signs. And almost hidden in the corner was another set of stairs, and Yoochun went up them, through another door and into a short hallway. There were three doors in the hallway, and he slipped a key into a lock and opened it.
Changmin stepped in, and the door shut behind him. The first thing he noticed was the boy standing across the room from him, his mouth open in shock.
His hair was longer than Yoochun’s, pulled back away from a face that looked just like Yoochun’s, a little thinner, a little gaunter, and a little younger. He wore shorts and a tank top that looked like it was going to fall apart soon.
Yoochun shifted by Changmin and went to the other. “Hi, baby.” He hugged him, and the boy’s cheeks went pink, but he hugged Yoochun back. He said something that Changmin did not hear.
Changmin’s throat tightened as their lips just barely pressed together. He looked away from the tender moment.
The room was nothing but four walls. One corner held a single futon, a thin blanket, and a few pillows. A comfortable-looking chair was in another corner. There were plastic crates along the only wall with a window, and they were full of clothes, shoes, a few books. And the corner where the two boys still hugged held crates of food and a cooktop.
Yoochun had turned around, watching him, with his arms still around the boy. The boy had his face half-hidden in Yoochun’s neck.
“Baby, this is Changmin.”
The boy’s eyes went wide in understanding and he twisted behind Yoochun’s back. Yoochun chuckled.
“Changmin, this is my younger brother, Yoohwan.”
Part 4: Understanding
Part 2: Need
Part 1: Concern
.