[Fic] All That I Am - 4/12
Title: All That I Am
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R
Pairing: Zhou Mi/Kyuhyun
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: To find a date that Kyuhyun can stomach is impossible - unless they hire one to pretend. But not even the perfect companion can stop years worth of threats, or keep their acting from becoming all too real.
***
Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five
***
***
Walking around with a slight headache, probably from the previous night’s alcohol, didn’t really improve his mood. Nor did the hazy recollection of pressing himself up against Zhou Mi’s body, and trying to lever inside that mouth. Watching Zhou Mi as he hummed and pulled out pairs of shorts to evaluate, he didn’t think that someone like that would be so solid. It might’ve been the alcohol talking, though. Who knew what he’d have thought sober. He’d have tried to argue that Zhou Mi kissed like a dead fish, but it wasn’t really holding up since he couldn’t exactly erase their previous kisses, much as he’d wanted to. He tried to imagine plastering himself to anyone else in that crowd, and grimaced. Definitely the alcohol, then.
He was lucky, it was only the third store they’d been in, and what Zhou Mi promised was the last. He watched Zhou Mi chat rather animatedly with the female sales attendant, and idly wondered if he’d have been okay if it had been a man talking to Zhou Mi. He swatted the thought away, glad that the small forest of bags at his feet wasn’t destined to grow much bigger. Though staring at the small mountain of shirts Zhou Mi was draping in the woman’s arms, he was beginning to have his doubts. And oh goody, he got to sit in the place of honor in front of the dressing room just in case he wanted to see a six-foot-tall clothes rack try on half the clothes in Seoul. And he did not, trying not to even pay attention as Zhou Mi came out to stand in front of the larger mirrors. He snorted at the black socks Zhou Mi was wearing with the dressy shorts he tried on, and went back to trying to count the fuzz balls on the edge of the cushion he sat on.
It was a stupid pretend date, and he was cursing Eeteuk internally as he flopped back on to the couch for the tenth time of knocking on Zhou Mi’s changing room door. He was a patient man, but he swore that Zhou Mi was testing him something fierce.
“Come on,” he called, resisting the urge to kick at a nearby mannequin.
“Oh!” he heard Zhou Mi say, muffled from behind the door. “Oh, I picked this up for…”
Whatever he said was lost as the door opened, Zhou Mi emerging in a flurry of striped, long sleeve shirt that seemed to hang off his collar bones.
“Try on this shirt,” Zhou Mi said, holding out some kind of dark blue something or other out at him.
“I didn’t come here for clothes. I have a tailor, and…”
“It’s just one shirt,” Zhou Mi told him, reaching out to tug on his arm.
Really. That was getting all too familiar, Zhou Mi touching him at will and begging him to do things. “Just one shirt to you means half the store,” he grumbled.
But Zhou Mi was holding it up to measure it against his shoulders, like it or not, checking the length of it down his body. “Perfect. Just this one, I promise. Please?”
The way Zhou Mi tilted his face, almost gave him the illusion that he was looking up at Kyuhyun, that sort of pleading expression that he associated with kids begging for candy or something. Not a grown man trying to get a shirt on his body. He wanted so badly just to say no and get Zhou Mi moving, but the next second he realized he’d said fine, and Zhou Mi was grinning and pushing him toward the changing room.
And then trying to go into it with him. He put his hand solidly on Zhou Mi’s chest, somewhere below where that stupid shirt was baring that big chunk of skin.
“No,” he ordered. No, he was not having Zhou Mi dress him, too. Stupid Eeteuk. Next time, he’d send Zhou Mi with Eeteuk and they could shop and gossip to their heart’s content.
“Kyuhyun?”
“Just a second!” he snapped, getting the buttons done up. He eyed himself in the mirror a moment longer than was strictly necessary merely because he knew that Zhou Mi was standing right outside the door. So the shirt was nice. And it fit him okay. And he liked the color.
Damn.
He opened the door, doing his level best not to let his mouth curve as Zhou Mi’s face immediately snuck through the crack.
“Oh, it looks good! I knew the color was good on you. You’re kind of pale anyway, so it gives you a little boost.”
He stood trying not to be dizzy as Zhou Mi zoomed around him, checking length and fit.
“Maybe the tailor can take it in a little on the sides, but otherwise it looks perfect!”
Zhou Mi beamed at him in the mirror, and he got a glimpse of them standing together for one of the first times. Zhou Mi, his arm nearly around his waist. Still in that shirt that bared most of his collar bones, tall, smiley. And him, gangly armed beside him, making what he could only describe as a stinky-fish expression. Was that who he was? The stick in the mud. Just thinking about smiling had his face creaking toward it, the laugh bubbling out of him as Zhou Mi did some kind of victory dance beside him.
“You’re insane,” he accused, fixing Zhou Mi with a stare.
“You should laugh more.”
“Yeah, well.” Okay. That was more awkward than he thought, shoving Zhou Mi’s hand off of his arm. For a second there he’d forgotten why they were there, seeing instead the appealing guy beside him who amused him. “Get out of here so I can change.”
With a final thumbs-up, Zhou Mi did just that, and he fumbled back out of the shirt and into his own. He rolled his eyes at the row of shirts Zhou Mi had amassed, and traded places with him so that Zhou Mi could change as well.
Zhou Mi emerged with his shirt picks over his arm, and a question in his eyes.
“You are getting the shirt, right?”
“You’d just sneak it out with yours anyway. Eeteuk gives you lessons, I swear.”
Zhou Mi picked this out for me, he could tell people. If he had to. They put their purchases on the counter, and he let himself be glad inside that they were finally going. It seemed like they’d been there for hours, even if the clock told him it hadn’t been that long. They still had time to get a bite to eat before he “got” to go back to work. It had been the first free work morning that he remembered in ages. Maybe he could’ve spent it sleeping, or something. But he thought he liked how it had gone, pretty well. Plenty of sleep, a good breakfast, laughing at Zhou Mi.
Though Zhou Mi trying to get out his wallet made him roll his eyes.
“Put that away,” he scolded, glaring Zhou Mi’s hand down and holding out his own credit card to the cashier. “Put it on this.”
The girl looked up, and got a good look at Kyuhyun’s face. “O-of course, Mr. Cho.”
And that was the way that things got done, he thought, trying not to smirk at Zhou Mi who accepted the bag with their things in it with a gigantic smile and thanks radiating at the cashier. Did it hurt to be that out there all the time? Strange. But he waited till Zhou Mi stepped up in front of him to get a hand on Zhou Mi’s back and nod over his shoulder at the gaping girl.
“Does she need to know we’re dating?” Zhou Mi asked, sounding far too amused.
“Shut up.”
***
Eeteuk had made them reservations at a trendy lunch restaurant. Not that that was obvious or anything. Two men walking in together wasn’t some kind of assignation, but it was when he saw a few people he knew of abstractly scattered around. Which meant by the time lunch was over, Cho Kyuhyun and his new paramour would be hot topics, and people would be wondering where they’d be spotted next. He then tried to remember the last time he’d eaten out for purposes that were not work related, and nearly gave himself a headache. The restaurant had some kind of fusion thing going on, and Zhou Mi seemed happy to peruse the menu as they refused the wine, opting for tea instead.
“Ooh, salmon,” Zhou Mi said, glancing up at him. “What are you having?”
Something inoffensive, preferably. Nothing covered with cheese. Nothing weird.
“The salmon, too, probably,” he admitted, signaling the waiter to take their orders.
“It’s nice in here,” Zhou Mi said when they were alone again. Alone being relative since they seemed to be sitting in the middle of the room. Though every seat was like that. “Kind of exposed, though.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be comfortable eating here very often. I don’t like people staring at my back.”
Strangely, Zhou Mi was not one of those people that bothered him in that regard. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that Zhou Mi exuded trustworthiness, but there was a certain amount of goodness in him that was plainly evident. It meant that Kyuhyun slept well in his bed every night without thinking he was being watched or about to be strangled, or both. Probably also because he was generally too tired to care. Zhou Mi seemed determined to change that in some way.
“A note was delivered for you, sir,” the waiter said, edging up to their table and placing the envelope discreetly beside his glass.
It looked like the others, was his first thought. His name, glued to the front of a plain ivory envelope. The same scrollwork on the back flap. He pulled up the note, cautious.
“Step down as president, or-”
He folded the paper, stuffing it and the envelope in his pocket. He wasn’t surprised when he looked up that Zhou Mi was looking at him. The man had sharp eyes, and wasn’t dimmer than a broken bulb.
“It’s nothing.”
All the good feelings from before seemed like a distant memory, and unfortunately, and somehow more scary than the note, Zhou Mi saw it, too.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Zhou Mi said. “Is there something wrong?”
“No. No, so let’s drop it. Maybe we should go. I’m not hungry any more.”
“Kyuhyun.” Zhou Mi stood before he could, taking one step and getting a hand on his shoulder. “If we leave now, it’ll look weird. And you need to eat. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but if it’s… You can talk to Eeteuk, too, right?”
The waiter seemed frozen in indecision beyond Zhou Mi’s chair, and he nodded, pushing Zhou Mi back.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said, apropos of nothing, and moving his glass to make way for his food. “We’ll go shopping for shoes another day.”
Zhou Mi smothered his laugh into his hand, thanking the waiter and sending another smile at Kyuhyun. There was still worry in those eyes, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on his food instead. It was tasteless to him because he could still see the note in his pocket, the text he had read, with a picture of himself crossed out in red ink.
***
Zhou Mi kept his word, not mentioning the note Kyuhyun had been given all through lunch. It had been quicker, quieter than he had expected from the way they had walked in together. It seemed a good night’s sleep did wonders for Kyuhyun, and even if he had griped and complained while they had been shopping, it hadn’t seemed too bad. Of course he’d been impatient, that part had certainly been real. But it was again Kyuhyun pushing at his boundaries. He’d been glad to get the shirt onto Kyuhyun. It had looked so good. Not that he needed Kyuhyun looking any better to him. That seemed kind of stupid. He’d already had to slap himself out of a few daydreams of kissing that smirk into a smile. Looking at Kyuhyun certainly wasn’t going to be an issue going forward. Just as long as he kept it to manageable level was all.
But the note, that worried him. Kyuhyun’s name on the front of it had looked almost pasted on, which was weird in and of itself. He’d have expected handwriting at the very least. But Kyuhyun’s mood told him more. That he had gone from sort of cheerfully grumpy, to bitter cold in the space of one envelope flap. Every instinct in him had screamed to get Kyuhyun out of that restaurant, looking around for any threats in the completely disinterested group of patrons. No one had weapons, discounting their knives. No one seemed to be looking, or particularly suspicious. And if it had been some kind of a threat to the food, then Kyuhyun clearly wouldn’t have eaten, or let him eat.
Kyuhyun hadn’t been actively trying to leave, so much as he had wanted to escape the conversation about the note. That fact had calmed him somewhat, that Kyuhyun hadn’t been imminently concerned for his safety, even if he had been upset. The onus had fallen on him, then. To chatter, talking about the stores they’d been in, where he thought they should go next time. Most of it was utter nonsense, but it kept them from looking like they were eating in sullen silence. And Kyuhyun just looked up at him with his dark, guarded eyes every so often, contributing a nod or a “yeah, sure.”
It had been the almost-smile that he’d teased out of Kyuhyun, asking him if there were clothes stores for dogs nearby, just in case. Kyuhyun had just rolled his neck, and signaled for the check. Sitting in silence all the way to the office, where he sent Zhou Mi on his way. He waited, waving until Kyuhyun had passed the guards, and stepped into his own private elevator. At least then, he knew Kyuhyun was safe.
Eeteuk had called him almost the moment he’d stepped into the house, immediately diving into his concerns.
“I’ve been pulling in some gossip reports, and there are some mixed feelings about your relationship. A couple think it’s just for show, a few think it’s kind of cute. But it couldn’t hurt to sort of nudge it a little.”
“Isn’t that what going out to lunch did? Someone had to have gotten pictures.”
“Right, and that was today. Sure you’ve kissed a few times, but there’s going to be a pretty well-known reporter at this gala tonight. If you can figure out a way to get him to see you kissing, or being close, then all the better. Kyuhyun will know who it is, so I’ll talk to him about it, too.”
“Okay. Of course.”
Eeteuk seemed to pause. “Did you know that Kyuhyun was handed a letter today?”
“Yes, I was sitting with him. Why? Is it something I need to know about?”
“No, it’s not something you need to worry about right now,” Eeteuk said, sounding distant. “I have a meeting, so we’ll talk later, okay? Good luck tonight!”
That Eeteuk asked about it, knew about it, meant that Kyuhyun had either told him or shown him. It meant that Eeteuk was inside a loop that he was not, and it made him uneasy. Maybe it was something he shouldn’t even worry about, but all his instincts screamed otherwise. There had been something on that paper that had taken the color out of Kyuhyun’s face. He just didn’t know when he would learn what it was. Or even if he really wanted to.
***
Zhou Mi had a new plan that night. An “I-will-not-see-Kyuhyun-mostly-naked” plan. It involved sitting in the chair and reading a magazine and not looking up until Kyuhyun actually told him they were going. One thing he couldn’t do was leave the room, since dressing seemed to be their time to talk out any concerns or thoughts about the night.
“Do you think we’ll run into any problems tonight?”
Kyuhyun made a noise of consideration. “Besides having to pretend we’re hot and heavy for each other? Just ignore the tabloid reporters. They’re there because it’s good press, and because their company gave money to the charity this guy is pushing.”
“Tabloid reporters? Do you think they’d ask us questions?”
“Maybe.”
His imagination got the better of him. “What would they ask us at something like that? Like, what color underwear you’re wearing, or…”
“Why would they ask that?” Kyuhyun scoffed. “You could just say I got dressed in the bathroom or you don’t remember.”
“Oh. True.”
“But if you must know so you can be all truth-telling,” Kyuhyun said, stopping in front of Zhou Mi and giving him a bird’s eye view of the long fingers tying his tie. He looked up despite himself, knowing it was a mistake. “I’m not wearing any.”
Kyuhyun’s eyes held some sort of challenge as Zhou Mi’s brain froze in disbelief. Was he sure about that? Really sure? Really, really sure? He didn’t even have words to ask, reaching out with groping fingers. He ran his hand from Kyuhyun’s thigh up to his hip, and his eyebrows rose when he realized that Kyuhyun wasn’t joking. There really wasn’t anything under there.
“You’re really not.”
“You couldn’t have just asked for confirmation? You had to feel me up to find out?”
“Well.” His hand was still on Kyuhyun’s ass, and he withdrew it just a bit unwillingly. “It seemed quicker.”
Kyuhyun may or may not have been laughing at him. “So now you know.”
He was all set to nod when the reality of it set in. “But now I know. You’ll be walking around tonight not wearing anything. And…why aren’t you?”
A shrug. “Long story.”
“Maybe you should tell me, because I’m the one who has to know this.”
“So sorry for putting that picture in your mind,” Kyuhyun said wryly, turning and giving Zhou Mi a perfect view of his backside before Kyuhyun tugged on his jacket.
Why was it such a big deal? It was a big deal because he knew that with a button undone here, or a zipper there, there was nothing between the world and that skin. And he may or may not have started having trouble getting that out of his head, the thought of that skin. Not that he’d seen it. But he’d felt it. Some of it. And his imagination was… Well. Developed, to say the least.
“So scar my mind, and tell me…What scandalous color of underwear are you wearing?” Kyuhyun asked as Zhou Mi stood.
“White?” he answered without actually considering what he was answering.
Kyuhyun paused for a moment in front of him, straightening what he knew was his perfectly straight tie. “How dare you. Should I check for myself? Now we both have to suffer.”
He got a whiff of whatever scent Kyuhyun was wearing as he moved away, and was glad he’d managed to stay on his feet. Much less keep his mouth closed to keep from making some idiotic expression. Everything smooth about him seemed to get roughed up around this teasing Kyuhyun, like he was some kind of magnet pulling him out of alignment. Sometime he thought he had that effect on Kyuhyun, too. But sometimes, it was just too hard to tell.
***
The party started off more tense, at least for him. Eyes sliding over walls, finding windows, doors. Exits. Places to go through, hide behind. Ways to keep Kyuhyun safe if he had to. He did it quickly, and with a smile on his face. Not Kyuhyun nor their hosts would know the space had been scanned for security. He logged each face, all the pictures Eeteuk had sent him. All the research he had done. Pulling up any information on Kyuhyun. His dating history, who might have a grudge. Of course not everyone liked him. He controlled a large corporation, he had money. Those were two strikes in a lot of people’s books. But he knew they didn’t see the way the man curled in on himself as he slept, or that he almost had to shut himself down to keep from laughing at things. Kyuhyun saluted him with his drink in mockery of the last time. Yes, Kyuhyun was paying attention to what he was drinking. And he had eaten before they came, Zhou Mi had made sure of that. He hadn’t even had to say anything. Kyuhyun was smart enough to know why.
He kept his arm near Kyuhyun’s as they walked. Watching Kyuhyun bow, shake hands, even smile at a few people. Introducing Zhou Mi when he had to, or letting him greet people himself. They had a plan, coordinated or not. One of the reporters Eeteuk had mentioned was there, and had been unable to get Kyuhyun away. They made rounds for almost an hour, getting fresh drinks, finishing them. And he began to slowly stroke Kyuhyun’s side.
Their signal.
Ever so discreet, slipping along the side toward the bathroom corridor.
“I don’t think I’ve every had shrimp quite that way,” Zhou Mi said, making small talk as he followed Kyuhyun into the slightly dimmer space. There was a maintenance nook, and he pulled Zhou Mi into it.
“Did you like it?” Kyuhyun asked.
“Not as much as I like this.”
There was a soft thud as Kyuhyun’s back met the wall, impatience on every feature of that face. As though he were telling Zhou Mi to just get this done. He didn’t have any problem with that. He’d have been lying if he said that pressing Kyuhyun there against the wall was anything but arousing. Kyuhyun was tall, and his build was slim, but Zhou Mi still had the height on him. Kyuhyun didn’t like that. He knew, by the way that chin tilted up, that illusion that he was somehow taller.
And he watched Kyuhyun’s mouth part in surprise, as Zhou Mi’s hands slid down his back, getting fully onto the soft material of his dress pants, getting a firm, two-handed hold on the same butt he’d been admiring earlier. All that was between him and the warmth of Kyuhyun’s skin, a relatively thin piece of fabric. And, sue him, he was pleased by Kyuhyun’s shock. Kyuhyun seemed to take pride in running circles around him verbally, though he imagined that if they ever got into a fistfight that he would have the advantage.
But like this, he felt he had the upper hand. Not just in height, but that some balance of power shifted in his favor. So that when his mouth caught that sneer, it softened to him, admitted him. Tongue sliding between soft lips, tasting the dark chocolate Kyuhyun had been eating like swirls of sweet midnight in his mouth. And Kyuhyun’s soft moan was like a gentle stroke, over his ears, down his neck, a chill and a desire. Here, Kyuhyun wasn’t so confident, here Kyuhyun lost his armor and gave. He felt that tiny surrender in the tips of his fingers and beneath his collarbones and his belly button. No matter how vertical they were, he imagined them otherwise, on a bed, his weight pinning Kyuhyun. Those dark eyes defiant and pleading all at once, as their bodies undulated and shuddered. It was a fantasy for the darkest night, and he lived it then, with Kyuhyun’s hands fisting in the back of his shirt.
“Hey- Oh! Sorry!”
He pulled back, rattled, needy, brain still engaged in the kiss, and not understanding why he had been denied. For a second they stared at each other, and he thought he saw the same startled expression there that he was giving. That instant surge of arousal, that need, had been too immediate, too intense, to be anything other than real and deep. Far too deep.
And the voice that had woken them from their stupor, was the voice of the man, the reporter, that they had intended to find them. And it was guaranteed he had a camera on him before he had so gleefully interrupted. So it hadn’t been for nothing, by far. Kyuhyun took back his hands, easing Zhou Mi’s from behind his hips. And with a subtle clearing of his throat, Kyuhyun smiled at their visitor.
“Don’t worry. We just got carried away.”
“Must be nice to have that kind of distraction at these parties.”
Kyuhyun laughed under his breath, and pulled Zhou Mi along beside him. The man was genial, almost coy, asking him how their night had been. They’d gotten away without much fuss, though. And all Zhou Mi had to do was pretend that he hadn’t had Kyuhyun pressed to a wall just minutes before, kissing him as though their lives depended on it. If it had distracted Kyuhyun at all, he didn’t show it. Continuing to mingle until a polite time to leave. And passing out in bed before Zhou Mi could even think of what to say to bring it up.
***
“Apparently more than one person is getting an eyeful of us because of last night,” Kyuhyun said, tossing the paper onto the table and sitting down across from him. How strange to have Kyuhyun at the breakfast table, not waking up in the dark to the beeping alarm. He wondered what blackmail Eeteuk had pulled out, or perhaps Kyuhyun had been too drunk on their success. Zhou Mi tore his eyes from the lazily belted robe, down to the blown-up, somewhat dark image that nonetheless clearly identified both of them making out in that hallway.
“Oh,” Zhou Mi said brilliantly, and tried not to flex his hands to remember just where he had been gripping. “So he did take a picture before he interrupted us?”
“And to think I almost got onto you last night for getting too handsy. I’d like to see any of them refute that picture.”
Yes, it was clear that both of them were into each other.
Both of them. Maybe Kyuhyun thought that Zhou Mi had been acting, but if that was the case, then Kyuhyun was doing some stellar acting back. It wasn’t like he’d gone into that position intending to arouse Kyuhyun, it had just sort of…Happened. And that they’d both been turned on was a good thing, wasn’t it? Even acting, that was hard to fake.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R
Pairing: Zhou Mi/Kyuhyun
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: To find a date that Kyuhyun can stomach is impossible - unless they hire one to pretend. But not even the perfect companion can stop years worth of threats, or keep their acting from becoming all too real.
***
Chapter One * Chapter Two * Chapter Three * Chapter Four * Chapter Five
***
***
Walking around with a slight headache, probably from the previous night’s alcohol, didn’t really improve his mood. Nor did the hazy recollection of pressing himself up against Zhou Mi’s body, and trying to lever inside that mouth. Watching Zhou Mi as he hummed and pulled out pairs of shorts to evaluate, he didn’t think that someone like that would be so solid. It might’ve been the alcohol talking, though. Who knew what he’d have thought sober. He’d have tried to argue that Zhou Mi kissed like a dead fish, but it wasn’t really holding up since he couldn’t exactly erase their previous kisses, much as he’d wanted to. He tried to imagine plastering himself to anyone else in that crowd, and grimaced. Definitely the alcohol, then.
He was lucky, it was only the third store they’d been in, and what Zhou Mi promised was the last. He watched Zhou Mi chat rather animatedly with the female sales attendant, and idly wondered if he’d have been okay if it had been a man talking to Zhou Mi. He swatted the thought away, glad that the small forest of bags at his feet wasn’t destined to grow much bigger. Though staring at the small mountain of shirts Zhou Mi was draping in the woman’s arms, he was beginning to have his doubts. And oh goody, he got to sit in the place of honor in front of the dressing room just in case he wanted to see a six-foot-tall clothes rack try on half the clothes in Seoul. And he did not, trying not to even pay attention as Zhou Mi came out to stand in front of the larger mirrors. He snorted at the black socks Zhou Mi was wearing with the dressy shorts he tried on, and went back to trying to count the fuzz balls on the edge of the cushion he sat on.
It was a stupid pretend date, and he was cursing Eeteuk internally as he flopped back on to the couch for the tenth time of knocking on Zhou Mi’s changing room door. He was a patient man, but he swore that Zhou Mi was testing him something fierce.
“Come on,” he called, resisting the urge to kick at a nearby mannequin.
“Oh!” he heard Zhou Mi say, muffled from behind the door. “Oh, I picked this up for…”
Whatever he said was lost as the door opened, Zhou Mi emerging in a flurry of striped, long sleeve shirt that seemed to hang off his collar bones.
“Try on this shirt,” Zhou Mi said, holding out some kind of dark blue something or other out at him.
“I didn’t come here for clothes. I have a tailor, and…”
“It’s just one shirt,” Zhou Mi told him, reaching out to tug on his arm.
Really. That was getting all too familiar, Zhou Mi touching him at will and begging him to do things. “Just one shirt to you means half the store,” he grumbled.
But Zhou Mi was holding it up to measure it against his shoulders, like it or not, checking the length of it down his body. “Perfect. Just this one, I promise. Please?”
The way Zhou Mi tilted his face, almost gave him the illusion that he was looking up at Kyuhyun, that sort of pleading expression that he associated with kids begging for candy or something. Not a grown man trying to get a shirt on his body. He wanted so badly just to say no and get Zhou Mi moving, but the next second he realized he’d said fine, and Zhou Mi was grinning and pushing him toward the changing room.
And then trying to go into it with him. He put his hand solidly on Zhou Mi’s chest, somewhere below where that stupid shirt was baring that big chunk of skin.
“No,” he ordered. No, he was not having Zhou Mi dress him, too. Stupid Eeteuk. Next time, he’d send Zhou Mi with Eeteuk and they could shop and gossip to their heart’s content.
“Kyuhyun?”
“Just a second!” he snapped, getting the buttons done up. He eyed himself in the mirror a moment longer than was strictly necessary merely because he knew that Zhou Mi was standing right outside the door. So the shirt was nice. And it fit him okay. And he liked the color.
Damn.
He opened the door, doing his level best not to let his mouth curve as Zhou Mi’s face immediately snuck through the crack.
“Oh, it looks good! I knew the color was good on you. You’re kind of pale anyway, so it gives you a little boost.”
He stood trying not to be dizzy as Zhou Mi zoomed around him, checking length and fit.
“Maybe the tailor can take it in a little on the sides, but otherwise it looks perfect!”
Zhou Mi beamed at him in the mirror, and he got a glimpse of them standing together for one of the first times. Zhou Mi, his arm nearly around his waist. Still in that shirt that bared most of his collar bones, tall, smiley. And him, gangly armed beside him, making what he could only describe as a stinky-fish expression. Was that who he was? The stick in the mud. Just thinking about smiling had his face creaking toward it, the laugh bubbling out of him as Zhou Mi did some kind of victory dance beside him.
“You’re insane,” he accused, fixing Zhou Mi with a stare.
“You should laugh more.”
“Yeah, well.” Okay. That was more awkward than he thought, shoving Zhou Mi’s hand off of his arm. For a second there he’d forgotten why they were there, seeing instead the appealing guy beside him who amused him. “Get out of here so I can change.”
With a final thumbs-up, Zhou Mi did just that, and he fumbled back out of the shirt and into his own. He rolled his eyes at the row of shirts Zhou Mi had amassed, and traded places with him so that Zhou Mi could change as well.
Zhou Mi emerged with his shirt picks over his arm, and a question in his eyes.
“You are getting the shirt, right?”
“You’d just sneak it out with yours anyway. Eeteuk gives you lessons, I swear.”
Zhou Mi picked this out for me, he could tell people. If he had to. They put their purchases on the counter, and he let himself be glad inside that they were finally going. It seemed like they’d been there for hours, even if the clock told him it hadn’t been that long. They still had time to get a bite to eat before he “got” to go back to work. It had been the first free work morning that he remembered in ages. Maybe he could’ve spent it sleeping, or something. But he thought he liked how it had gone, pretty well. Plenty of sleep, a good breakfast, laughing at Zhou Mi.
Though Zhou Mi trying to get out his wallet made him roll his eyes.
“Put that away,” he scolded, glaring Zhou Mi’s hand down and holding out his own credit card to the cashier. “Put it on this.”
The girl looked up, and got a good look at Kyuhyun’s face. “O-of course, Mr. Cho.”
And that was the way that things got done, he thought, trying not to smirk at Zhou Mi who accepted the bag with their things in it with a gigantic smile and thanks radiating at the cashier. Did it hurt to be that out there all the time? Strange. But he waited till Zhou Mi stepped up in front of him to get a hand on Zhou Mi’s back and nod over his shoulder at the gaping girl.
“Does she need to know we’re dating?” Zhou Mi asked, sounding far too amused.
“Shut up.”
***
Eeteuk had made them reservations at a trendy lunch restaurant. Not that that was obvious or anything. Two men walking in together wasn’t some kind of assignation, but it was when he saw a few people he knew of abstractly scattered around. Which meant by the time lunch was over, Cho Kyuhyun and his new paramour would be hot topics, and people would be wondering where they’d be spotted next. He then tried to remember the last time he’d eaten out for purposes that were not work related, and nearly gave himself a headache. The restaurant had some kind of fusion thing going on, and Zhou Mi seemed happy to peruse the menu as they refused the wine, opting for tea instead.
“Ooh, salmon,” Zhou Mi said, glancing up at him. “What are you having?”
Something inoffensive, preferably. Nothing covered with cheese. Nothing weird.
“The salmon, too, probably,” he admitted, signaling the waiter to take their orders.
“It’s nice in here,” Zhou Mi said when they were alone again. Alone being relative since they seemed to be sitting in the middle of the room. Though every seat was like that. “Kind of exposed, though.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be comfortable eating here very often. I don’t like people staring at my back.”
Strangely, Zhou Mi was not one of those people that bothered him in that regard. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that Zhou Mi exuded trustworthiness, but there was a certain amount of goodness in him that was plainly evident. It meant that Kyuhyun slept well in his bed every night without thinking he was being watched or about to be strangled, or both. Probably also because he was generally too tired to care. Zhou Mi seemed determined to change that in some way.
“A note was delivered for you, sir,” the waiter said, edging up to their table and placing the envelope discreetly beside his glass.
It looked like the others, was his first thought. His name, glued to the front of a plain ivory envelope. The same scrollwork on the back flap. He pulled up the note, cautious.
“Step down as president, or-”
He folded the paper, stuffing it and the envelope in his pocket. He wasn’t surprised when he looked up that Zhou Mi was looking at him. The man had sharp eyes, and wasn’t dimmer than a broken bulb.
“It’s nothing.”
All the good feelings from before seemed like a distant memory, and unfortunately, and somehow more scary than the note, Zhou Mi saw it, too.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Zhou Mi said. “Is there something wrong?”
“No. No, so let’s drop it. Maybe we should go. I’m not hungry any more.”
“Kyuhyun.” Zhou Mi stood before he could, taking one step and getting a hand on his shoulder. “If we leave now, it’ll look weird. And you need to eat. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but if it’s… You can talk to Eeteuk, too, right?”
The waiter seemed frozen in indecision beyond Zhou Mi’s chair, and he nodded, pushing Zhou Mi back.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said, apropos of nothing, and moving his glass to make way for his food. “We’ll go shopping for shoes another day.”
Zhou Mi smothered his laugh into his hand, thanking the waiter and sending another smile at Kyuhyun. There was still worry in those eyes, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on his food instead. It was tasteless to him because he could still see the note in his pocket, the text he had read, with a picture of himself crossed out in red ink.
***
Zhou Mi kept his word, not mentioning the note Kyuhyun had been given all through lunch. It had been quicker, quieter than he had expected from the way they had walked in together. It seemed a good night’s sleep did wonders for Kyuhyun, and even if he had griped and complained while they had been shopping, it hadn’t seemed too bad. Of course he’d been impatient, that part had certainly been real. But it was again Kyuhyun pushing at his boundaries. He’d been glad to get the shirt onto Kyuhyun. It had looked so good. Not that he needed Kyuhyun looking any better to him. That seemed kind of stupid. He’d already had to slap himself out of a few daydreams of kissing that smirk into a smile. Looking at Kyuhyun certainly wasn’t going to be an issue going forward. Just as long as he kept it to manageable level was all.
But the note, that worried him. Kyuhyun’s name on the front of it had looked almost pasted on, which was weird in and of itself. He’d have expected handwriting at the very least. But Kyuhyun’s mood told him more. That he had gone from sort of cheerfully grumpy, to bitter cold in the space of one envelope flap. Every instinct in him had screamed to get Kyuhyun out of that restaurant, looking around for any threats in the completely disinterested group of patrons. No one had weapons, discounting their knives. No one seemed to be looking, or particularly suspicious. And if it had been some kind of a threat to the food, then Kyuhyun clearly wouldn’t have eaten, or let him eat.
Kyuhyun hadn’t been actively trying to leave, so much as he had wanted to escape the conversation about the note. That fact had calmed him somewhat, that Kyuhyun hadn’t been imminently concerned for his safety, even if he had been upset. The onus had fallen on him, then. To chatter, talking about the stores they’d been in, where he thought they should go next time. Most of it was utter nonsense, but it kept them from looking like they were eating in sullen silence. And Kyuhyun just looked up at him with his dark, guarded eyes every so often, contributing a nod or a “yeah, sure.”
It had been the almost-smile that he’d teased out of Kyuhyun, asking him if there were clothes stores for dogs nearby, just in case. Kyuhyun had just rolled his neck, and signaled for the check. Sitting in silence all the way to the office, where he sent Zhou Mi on his way. He waited, waving until Kyuhyun had passed the guards, and stepped into his own private elevator. At least then, he knew Kyuhyun was safe.
Eeteuk had called him almost the moment he’d stepped into the house, immediately diving into his concerns.
“I’ve been pulling in some gossip reports, and there are some mixed feelings about your relationship. A couple think it’s just for show, a few think it’s kind of cute. But it couldn’t hurt to sort of nudge it a little.”
“Isn’t that what going out to lunch did? Someone had to have gotten pictures.”
“Right, and that was today. Sure you’ve kissed a few times, but there’s going to be a pretty well-known reporter at this gala tonight. If you can figure out a way to get him to see you kissing, or being close, then all the better. Kyuhyun will know who it is, so I’ll talk to him about it, too.”
“Okay. Of course.”
Eeteuk seemed to pause. “Did you know that Kyuhyun was handed a letter today?”
“Yes, I was sitting with him. Why? Is it something I need to know about?”
“No, it’s not something you need to worry about right now,” Eeteuk said, sounding distant. “I have a meeting, so we’ll talk later, okay? Good luck tonight!”
That Eeteuk asked about it, knew about it, meant that Kyuhyun had either told him or shown him. It meant that Eeteuk was inside a loop that he was not, and it made him uneasy. Maybe it was something he shouldn’t even worry about, but all his instincts screamed otherwise. There had been something on that paper that had taken the color out of Kyuhyun’s face. He just didn’t know when he would learn what it was. Or even if he really wanted to.
***
Zhou Mi had a new plan that night. An “I-will-not-see-Kyuhyun-mostly-naked” plan. It involved sitting in the chair and reading a magazine and not looking up until Kyuhyun actually told him they were going. One thing he couldn’t do was leave the room, since dressing seemed to be their time to talk out any concerns or thoughts about the night.
“Do you think we’ll run into any problems tonight?”
Kyuhyun made a noise of consideration. “Besides having to pretend we’re hot and heavy for each other? Just ignore the tabloid reporters. They’re there because it’s good press, and because their company gave money to the charity this guy is pushing.”
“Tabloid reporters? Do you think they’d ask us questions?”
“Maybe.”
His imagination got the better of him. “What would they ask us at something like that? Like, what color underwear you’re wearing, or…”
“Why would they ask that?” Kyuhyun scoffed. “You could just say I got dressed in the bathroom or you don’t remember.”
“Oh. True.”
“But if you must know so you can be all truth-telling,” Kyuhyun said, stopping in front of Zhou Mi and giving him a bird’s eye view of the long fingers tying his tie. He looked up despite himself, knowing it was a mistake. “I’m not wearing any.”
Kyuhyun’s eyes held some sort of challenge as Zhou Mi’s brain froze in disbelief. Was he sure about that? Really sure? Really, really sure? He didn’t even have words to ask, reaching out with groping fingers. He ran his hand from Kyuhyun’s thigh up to his hip, and his eyebrows rose when he realized that Kyuhyun wasn’t joking. There really wasn’t anything under there.
“You’re really not.”
“You couldn’t have just asked for confirmation? You had to feel me up to find out?”
“Well.” His hand was still on Kyuhyun’s ass, and he withdrew it just a bit unwillingly. “It seemed quicker.”
Kyuhyun may or may not have been laughing at him. “So now you know.”
He was all set to nod when the reality of it set in. “But now I know. You’ll be walking around tonight not wearing anything. And…why aren’t you?”
A shrug. “Long story.”
“Maybe you should tell me, because I’m the one who has to know this.”
“So sorry for putting that picture in your mind,” Kyuhyun said wryly, turning and giving Zhou Mi a perfect view of his backside before Kyuhyun tugged on his jacket.
Why was it such a big deal? It was a big deal because he knew that with a button undone here, or a zipper there, there was nothing between the world and that skin. And he may or may not have started having trouble getting that out of his head, the thought of that skin. Not that he’d seen it. But he’d felt it. Some of it. And his imagination was… Well. Developed, to say the least.
“So scar my mind, and tell me…What scandalous color of underwear are you wearing?” Kyuhyun asked as Zhou Mi stood.
“White?” he answered without actually considering what he was answering.
Kyuhyun paused for a moment in front of him, straightening what he knew was his perfectly straight tie. “How dare you. Should I check for myself? Now we both have to suffer.”
He got a whiff of whatever scent Kyuhyun was wearing as he moved away, and was glad he’d managed to stay on his feet. Much less keep his mouth closed to keep from making some idiotic expression. Everything smooth about him seemed to get roughed up around this teasing Kyuhyun, like he was some kind of magnet pulling him out of alignment. Sometime he thought he had that effect on Kyuhyun, too. But sometimes, it was just too hard to tell.
***
The party started off more tense, at least for him. Eyes sliding over walls, finding windows, doors. Exits. Places to go through, hide behind. Ways to keep Kyuhyun safe if he had to. He did it quickly, and with a smile on his face. Not Kyuhyun nor their hosts would know the space had been scanned for security. He logged each face, all the pictures Eeteuk had sent him. All the research he had done. Pulling up any information on Kyuhyun. His dating history, who might have a grudge. Of course not everyone liked him. He controlled a large corporation, he had money. Those were two strikes in a lot of people’s books. But he knew they didn’t see the way the man curled in on himself as he slept, or that he almost had to shut himself down to keep from laughing at things. Kyuhyun saluted him with his drink in mockery of the last time. Yes, Kyuhyun was paying attention to what he was drinking. And he had eaten before they came, Zhou Mi had made sure of that. He hadn’t even had to say anything. Kyuhyun was smart enough to know why.
He kept his arm near Kyuhyun’s as they walked. Watching Kyuhyun bow, shake hands, even smile at a few people. Introducing Zhou Mi when he had to, or letting him greet people himself. They had a plan, coordinated or not. One of the reporters Eeteuk had mentioned was there, and had been unable to get Kyuhyun away. They made rounds for almost an hour, getting fresh drinks, finishing them. And he began to slowly stroke Kyuhyun’s side.
Their signal.
Ever so discreet, slipping along the side toward the bathroom corridor.
“I don’t think I’ve every had shrimp quite that way,” Zhou Mi said, making small talk as he followed Kyuhyun into the slightly dimmer space. There was a maintenance nook, and he pulled Zhou Mi into it.
“Did you like it?” Kyuhyun asked.
“Not as much as I like this.”
There was a soft thud as Kyuhyun’s back met the wall, impatience on every feature of that face. As though he were telling Zhou Mi to just get this done. He didn’t have any problem with that. He’d have been lying if he said that pressing Kyuhyun there against the wall was anything but arousing. Kyuhyun was tall, and his build was slim, but Zhou Mi still had the height on him. Kyuhyun didn’t like that. He knew, by the way that chin tilted up, that illusion that he was somehow taller.
And he watched Kyuhyun’s mouth part in surprise, as Zhou Mi’s hands slid down his back, getting fully onto the soft material of his dress pants, getting a firm, two-handed hold on the same butt he’d been admiring earlier. All that was between him and the warmth of Kyuhyun’s skin, a relatively thin piece of fabric. And, sue him, he was pleased by Kyuhyun’s shock. Kyuhyun seemed to take pride in running circles around him verbally, though he imagined that if they ever got into a fistfight that he would have the advantage.
But like this, he felt he had the upper hand. Not just in height, but that some balance of power shifted in his favor. So that when his mouth caught that sneer, it softened to him, admitted him. Tongue sliding between soft lips, tasting the dark chocolate Kyuhyun had been eating like swirls of sweet midnight in his mouth. And Kyuhyun’s soft moan was like a gentle stroke, over his ears, down his neck, a chill and a desire. Here, Kyuhyun wasn’t so confident, here Kyuhyun lost his armor and gave. He felt that tiny surrender in the tips of his fingers and beneath his collarbones and his belly button. No matter how vertical they were, he imagined them otherwise, on a bed, his weight pinning Kyuhyun. Those dark eyes defiant and pleading all at once, as their bodies undulated and shuddered. It was a fantasy for the darkest night, and he lived it then, with Kyuhyun’s hands fisting in the back of his shirt.
“Hey- Oh! Sorry!”
He pulled back, rattled, needy, brain still engaged in the kiss, and not understanding why he had been denied. For a second they stared at each other, and he thought he saw the same startled expression there that he was giving. That instant surge of arousal, that need, had been too immediate, too intense, to be anything other than real and deep. Far too deep.
And the voice that had woken them from their stupor, was the voice of the man, the reporter, that they had intended to find them. And it was guaranteed he had a camera on him before he had so gleefully interrupted. So it hadn’t been for nothing, by far. Kyuhyun took back his hands, easing Zhou Mi’s from behind his hips. And with a subtle clearing of his throat, Kyuhyun smiled at their visitor.
“Don’t worry. We just got carried away.”
“Must be nice to have that kind of distraction at these parties.”
Kyuhyun laughed under his breath, and pulled Zhou Mi along beside him. The man was genial, almost coy, asking him how their night had been. They’d gotten away without much fuss, though. And all Zhou Mi had to do was pretend that he hadn’t had Kyuhyun pressed to a wall just minutes before, kissing him as though their lives depended on it. If it had distracted Kyuhyun at all, he didn’t show it. Continuing to mingle until a polite time to leave. And passing out in bed before Zhou Mi could even think of what to say to bring it up.
***
“Apparently more than one person is getting an eyeful of us because of last night,” Kyuhyun said, tossing the paper onto the table and sitting down across from him. How strange to have Kyuhyun at the breakfast table, not waking up in the dark to the beeping alarm. He wondered what blackmail Eeteuk had pulled out, or perhaps Kyuhyun had been too drunk on their success. Zhou Mi tore his eyes from the lazily belted robe, down to the blown-up, somewhat dark image that nonetheless clearly identified both of them making out in that hallway.
“Oh,” Zhou Mi said brilliantly, and tried not to flex his hands to remember just where he had been gripping. “So he did take a picture before he interrupted us?”
“And to think I almost got onto you last night for getting too handsy. I’d like to see any of them refute that picture.”
Yes, it was clear that both of them were into each other.
Both of them. Maybe Kyuhyun thought that Zhou Mi had been acting, but if that was the case, then Kyuhyun was doing some stellar acting back. It wasn’t like he’d gone into that position intending to arouse Kyuhyun, it had just sort of…Happened. And that they’d both been turned on was a good thing, wasn’t it? Even acting, that was hard to fake.
***