Fic: Let Go [TVXQ RPS]
Title: Let Go
Fandom: TVXQ
Pairing: Yunho/Changmin
Rating: NC17
Summary: Changmin wants something. Yunho isn’t sure he can give it.
Notes: For haeym's watersports prompt on the kink meme.
Let Go
“Yunho,” Changmin says one evening. “Yunho, I want you to pee on me.”
Perhaps he should have picked a better moment. This kind of announcement is probably not best delivered in the middle of food preparation. Certainly not judging by Yunho’s reaction, which is a strangled squawk as the vegetable knife slips off the half-dome of an onion and slices through flesh.
“Shit. I mean-uh. Oh.” Yunho snatches his hand away from the knife and stares at the welling bead of blood.
“Run it under the tap,” Changmin says patiently, accustomed to his boyfriend’s clumsiness. “Here.” He takes Yunho’s wrist, guides him over to the sink, turns on the tap, then shoves Yunho’s injured finger beneath the stream of cold water.
They stand there for a moment, Changmin’s hand still around Yunho’s wrist, and then Yunho pulls free. “It’s fine now. Thanks.” He darts a sidelong glance, a flush on his cheeks as he looks-but-doesn’t-look at Changmin.
Sometimes Yunho can be so shy. Changmin likes that about him; likes that the fearless leader-ha!-can be so uncertain. He’s not prudish, not exactly. His mind fits certain paths and he excels in what he does along those paths, but sometimes Changmin thinks Yunho should... experiment a little more.
Especially if he, Changmin, gets to be the beneficiary.
Yunho holds his finger to his mouth and licks at the cut, rapid and kittenish. He sends Changmin a few more glances. “Um, what did you say just now?”
Changmin takes it as a challenge, even though Yunho’s expression is wary and non-combative. “You heard me perfectly well. I want you to pee on me.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” Yunho examines his finger then just stands there, as if he’s not sure what to do with his hands now. “Why?”
“Do I need a reason?” Changmin raises his eyebrows.
Yunho lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “I guess not. But...”
Changmin turns off the tap and resumes making dinner. Discussions of intimate matters, he’s found, usually have a positive outcome when distraction is involved. The most effective distraction is sex, but he doubts that’ll work this time. Cooking will have to do instead.
He’s unpeeling the papery casing from a clove of garlic when Yunho shuffles back over. Picking up the knife, Yunho prods at the onion like he’s giving it acupuncture. Changmin stifles a sigh and takes over the task, chopping and dicing with practised ease.
“Why?” Yunho asks again.
There are many reasons, not least Because I want you to. Mixed up in that is Because I think it’ll feel nice along with Because I want you to put your scent all over me, but mainly it’s all about Because I want to see you let go. Changmin doesn’t say any of this. Instead he says, “Because of some porno I watched.”
Yunho lays both hands on the kitchen counter. “Oh.”
“Boil the kettle.”
“What?”
“The kettle.” Changmin points in the appropriate direction. “I need hot water to blanch the tomatoes.”
“Right. I thought... Never mind.” Yunho busies himself with filling the kettle and switching it on. “What porno was this?”
Changmin is starting to wish he hadn’t broached the subject. He’d wanted a yes or no answer, not twenty questions as to his motivations. Any minute now Yunho will invite him to lie on the couch and try to give him therapy or something.
“You haven’t seen it,” he says shortly.
“Maybe I should. So I know. You know, so I know what to do.”
Changmin stares at him. “Please tell me you’re potty-trained.”
Yunho blushes, then laughs, and although it’s uncertain, embarrassed laughter, it’s still laughter and that’s a good thing. He ducks his head. “You know what I mean.”
The onion and garlic get tipped into a saucepan over a low heat. Changmin wipes his hands down the side of his jeans and reaches out, curling a finger beneath Yunho’s chin to make him look up. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to do it. I want you to enjoy it, too.”
Yunho gazes at him. “You really want me to do that?”
“Yes. Really.” Changmin lets his hand drop. The kettle judders across the bench, bubbles roiling, steam clouding from the spout. He takes it off the boil and pours the hot water into another pan on top of the tomatoes. “Just think about it, okay?”
“I’m thinking.”
“But don’t think too much.”
“Okay.” Yunho wrinkles his nose. “It’s just... it seems...”
“It’s not dirty,” Changmin says, anticipating that line of argument. “Some people advocate drinking urine for health reasons.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that, because now Yunho is staring at him with an expression halfway between appalled and amused.
“It’s really not dirty,” Changmin says again, using the knife to poke at the tomatoes. The skins are peeling free of the flesh. “And it’s not deviant, either. It’s just... specialised.”
Yunho takes a breath and exhales. “I’ll think about it.”
*
Giving Yunho time to think about anything is usually a bad idea. Changmin watches him considering the proposition. Actually, was it even a proposition? It was more of a statement. Or a demand. Whatever. For the rest of the evening, Yunho sits curled up with a cushion in his lap, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth as he stares blankly at the television. He’s obviously still thinking about it when he goes to bed. Stands to reason it’ll still be on his mind first thing in the morning.
Changmin counts on it.
They don’t always sleep together, a state of affairs both frustrating and satisfying. Changmin wakes early and lies in his bed, listening, convinced that Yunho will have been awake half the night thinking. The alarm clock shrills next door, then it’s silenced. Changmin sits up, pushing back the duvet. He hears Yunho shuffling around, then the click of the bedroom door, footsteps, and Yunho yawning as he wanders towards the bathroom.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, Changmin springs from his bed and bolts out of his room. He shoves at the bathroom door-Yunho never locks it-and strides in.
“Changmin!” Yunho is standing at the toilet. He makes an entirely useless attempt to cover himself, trying to shove his dick back inside his underwear.
Changmin rolls his eyes. “Seen it all before.”
“Yes, but it’s different now.” Yunho is blushing.
“Different because I asked you to pee on me?” Changmin turns on the tap in the sink. He doesn’t open it halfway, as is his usual habit. He just lets the water dribble and spurt, and he watches Yunho blush even redder.
“Turn that off,” Yunho says. “Please.”
“Sure.” Point made, Changmin silences the tap. He leans against the sink and huffs, making a circling gesture with his hand. “Hurry up, will you? I need to go, too.”
Yunho gives him a doubtful look and moves around the toilet until his back is to Changmin. There’s the rustle of clothing. Then nothing.
Changmin folds his lips together, trying not to laugh. He steps forward, going right into Yunho’s space and pressing up against his body. Yunho is tense, breathing fast. No wonder he can’t go. Performance anxiety is a bitch.
“Come on,” Changmin says, sliding his arms around Yunho’s waist. He rubs his right hand low over Yunho’s belly, stroking a heavy caress in slow circles. His left hand rests at Yunho’s hip, safe and non-threatening. He nuzzles into the razored softness of hair at Yunho’s nape. “C’mon, baby. Do it.”
“Don’t,” Yunho gasps. “Changmin, no. I can’t. I’ll... I’ll get hard and-”
“Think of boring things.” Changmin licks a wet line down the back of Yunho’s neck, then blows on it.
Yunho writhes. “How can I think of boring things when you’re kissing my neck!”
“Have some self-control.”
“Thought you wanted me to lose control.”
“Not exactly.” Changmin whispers more kisses up the side of Yunho’s throat, then bites at his earlobe. “Mm. You can do it. Let me help.” He creeps his left hand down from Yunho’s hip and curls it around his cock.
Yunho makes a strangled sound. “Yeah, that’s really going to help me take a piss. Is that how you hold yours? Don’t aim it there. That’s not... Fuck.” His tone of complaint wavers. “Changminnie, I really need to pee. Please let me do this on my own.”
Changmin smiles against his neck. “Are you embarrassed?”
“No.” Yunho is practically glowing with shame. “Yes. I don’t know.”
“You’ve done it in front of me before.”
“Not like this!”
“Is it the sound it makes when it goes all splish-splash?” Changmin asks, trying to sound loving and considerate. “Want me to turn the tap on again?”
“No. No.” Urgency tints Yunho’s voice. “You’re being mean.”
“I’m not. I’m just waiting my turn. You’re taking ages. You must be desperate by now.” Changmin rubs over Yunho’s belly again, exerting gentle pressure on his bladder.
Yunho jerks backwards. “Shim Changmin!”
“Just take a leak already, will you?” Changmin says, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “I honestly don’t want to stand here all day holding your dick.”
“I’m not forcing you,” Yunho says. “Just reminding you, it’s totally your choice.”
“Mm.” Changmin bends his head and bites Yunho’s bare shoulder, does it sharp and hard. At the same time he presses the heel of his hand down over Yunho’s bladder.
Yunho yelps and lets go. A stream of pee arcs into the toilet bowl, strong and steady. Changmin makes a pleased sound and urges his hand along the length of Yunho’s cock. “Don’t stop,” he murmurs, breathing in the rich, sharp smell hot from Yunho’s body. “Oh, baby, don’t stop.”
Yunho squirms in his arms, face flaming, but there’s the uncomplicated pleasure of relief in his expression and he’s smiling, embarrassed and awkward.
“Doesn’t that feel good?” Changmin asks, low and sweet, coaxing out the last few droplets. “Imagine how much better it’ll feel when you do it all over me. I want it, Yun. I really want it.”
He gives Yunho’s cock a little shake; runs his thumb over the tip. Then he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks it.
Yunho makes a shocked sound, staring at him.
Changmin smiles, then leans forward and flushes the toilet.
*
A few days later, Changmin comes home to find Yunho sitting in front of the television. Two empty beer bottles are on the floor. He’s almost finished the contents of a third bottle.
“Have a drink,” he says.
Changmin shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“No.” Yunho looks at him, almost pleading. “Have a drink.”
It takes Changmin a moment, but then he realises what might-might-be about to happen, and he says, “Oh. Right. Why not. I’m kind of thirsty, actually.” He goes into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and takes out two bottles. He uncaps them both, then returns to the living room, offering one to Yunho. “I got you another. In case you need it.”
“Thanks.” Yunho appears to be stone-cold sober. It’s only the slight pinking over his cheeks and the slow, careful way he raises the bottle to his lips that suggest otherwise. He finishes the third bottle and starts on the fourth.
Changmin lifts his own beer and takes a swig. It’s cool and smooth on his tongue, a clean taste. He settles into an armchair and watches Yunho watching the television.
Yunho is nervous but determined. When he’s in this kind of mood, he goes almost completely still. It’s pretty close to the way he behaves when they’re working, when he’s preparing for a live performance: shut down and focused, imagining a successful outcome long before they take to the stage. He sinks into himself then, in those moments when he doesn’t have to acknowledge anyone else’s hopes or expectations, but Changmin knows that’ll come, and he doesn’t want it on those terms.
“Yunho.” Changmin puts down his beer and goes over to the couch, kneels on the floor and takes the bottle from Yunho’s hand. “Not like this.”
Yunho blinks at him. “I want to give you what you want.”
Changmin catches Yunho’s hand and rubs his cheek against it. “I want you to want it, too.”
Defeat sags the resolute set of Yunho’s shoulders. “I’m not sure. It seems...”
“Degrading? Humiliating?” Changmin tilts his head and smiles. “It’s not. It won’t be. Not between us.”
Yunho bites his lip. He’s still uncertain, but there’s something in his eyes, an expression that suggests he’s not entirely averse to the idea. Changmin just needs to push a little harder. Maybe it’s time to be honest, because while Yunho’s been thinking about it, so has Changmin; and now he’s ready to give answers to the question Yunho is no longer asking.
“I want it,” Changmin says softly. “I want the warmth of it, hot and fresh. I want what was inside of you to splash all over me. I want the scent of it. I want to be covered in it, as if you’re marking me. Like a possessive thing, like animals do. It’s sexy, Yun. It’s so sexy, being claimed in such a primal way.”
He pauses, conscious of his arousal, tight and insistent. Changmin laughs. “God, look at me. We’re just talking about it and I’m hard.”
Yunho strokes a hand through Changmin’s hair, ruffling it into his eyes. “Any other reason?”
“Yes.” Changmin tosses his head and meets Yunho’s gaze. “I really want to see you do it. That’s going to be the biggest turn-on of all. I want to see you let go, and in more than a sexual way. I want to see you let go for me, because I asked you to, because you want to.”
There’s a long silence.
“Okay.” Yunho slides his hand down to Changmin’s shoulder. He smiles. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A fluttering of nerves wakens in Changmin. “Now?”
“Yeah. Now.”
They go into the bathroom. Yunho is slightly unsteady on his feet, the kick of the alcohol finally catching up with him. Changmin enjoys the chance to fuss over him a little, undressing in haste and then taking Yunho’s clothes off with slow deliberation and excited anticipation. He kisses Yunho, brushes his mouth over lips, neck, chest.
“Don’t,” Yunho warns, “don’t turn me on.”
“Sorry.” Changmin pulls away. He climbs into the bath by the taps and kneels there, cock stiff, balls hanging low between his thighs. His erection dips a little at the hard chill of the ceramic tub and the cold, uncomfortable touch of the taps against his back. The position is painful without any padding under his knees, but he doesn’t want to get out and fetch a towel. He doesn’t dare spoil this moment.
Yunho hesitates a second longer before stepping into the bath. He puts one hand flat against the tiled wall and stands right at the far end of the tub, then shuffles closer, edges backwards, and moves forwards again as if he’s calculating distances. There’s probably some sort of mathematical equation for working out the correct position for a man to stand in order to achieve optimum flow and pressure when he pees on his boyfriend. Changmin swallows the laughter that threatens to shake itself free at the thought. He doesn’t want Yunho to think he’s laughing at him.
Instead he fixes his gaze on Yunho’s cock. It’s long and thick, his balls heavy, framed by the dark brush of pubic hair. Changmin’s mouth waters. He wants to lean forwards and snuffle through that hair, wants to nuzzle at Yunho’s balls and roll them on his tongue, wants to lick and lick at Yunho’s cock until he’s huge and stiff and making Changmin moan around it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Yunho says, taking his cock in hand. He’s blushing and flustered and absolutely adorable. “This is difficult enough as it is. You’re naked and hard and now you’re looking at me like you want to...”
“Don’t think about it.” Changmin sits back as Yunho’s dick starts to swell and lift. “No! Don’t get turned on!”
“I’m trying not to.” Yunho draws in a deep breath and looks at the tiles on the wall. His jaw tightens and he goes all tense, then takes a few more calming breaths. After a while, he blinks. “Wow, it’s kind of cold in here. I really need to pee.”
“Yes,” Changmin coaxes. “Give it to me.”
“Don’t say anything!” Yunho shifts on his feet, jiggles up and down a little, his nose scrunching. “Ohhh, I really need to go. Oh, Changminnie. I don’t know. I don’t know if I can.”
Please, Changmin thinks. For me. Do it for me.
A blush burning across his face, Yunho shakes his head forward until his hair hangs in his eyes. He sways forward onto his toes. Quivers. “Oh God. Oh.”
The first spurt splashes out. Changmin scoots closer, excitement scrambling through him as the droplets land on his knee, hot and wet.
“Oh,” Yunho says again, screwing his eyes shut tight for an agonised moment, “oh, baby,” and he lets go.
Changmin gasps and arches against the jet of liquid, tilting his head back as long, deep shudders go through him like an orgasm. “Yes,” he says, high and excited, “oh yes, yes, give me everything, let me take it, oh-”
Yunho stares down at him, directing the warm, trickling stream all over him, up Changmin’s thighs, over his cock and balls and into his pubic hair, up over his belly and his arms and chest, soaking him, making him wet and dripping.
Changmin twists on his knees and moans, racked by a savage pulse of lust. Spiked by Yunho’s wide-eyed gaze, Changmin palms his dick, begs, “More, more, cover me,” and jerks off, his hand wet, cock glistening. Yunho’s scent surrounds him, hot and sharp. Changmin utters frantic cries, urging himself on. He has to do this fast, reeling from the punch of desire; faster, faster; and as Yunho finally finishes, dick still held in his hand, Changmin sways forward and takes him in his mouth, working his own cock harder and harder.
Sensation dizzies him. The salty taste of Yunho’s pee on his tongue. The softness of his cock. The smell of him, musky and warm. Changmin moans, pulling himself on. He needs to come. He needs to give Yunho this. Letting Yunho’s dick slip free of his mouth, Changmin turns his head. He leans against Yunho’s thigh, Yunho’s hands in his hair now, stroking so gently.
“Come,” Yunho says, fingers tightening in command. “Come for me, Changminnie. Let go.”
Changmin gasps, presses his lips to Yunho’s skin, and climaxes in a hot, jerking rush.
His head is spinning, his breathing heavy and fractured, perspiration already cooling over his body. He shivers.
Yunho crouches in front of him, kisses his cheek, his nose, his mouth. “Was that good? Was it what you wanted?”
“Yes.” Another shiver. Changmin’s voice cracks. “Thank you.”
“So polite, Changminnie.” Yunho smiles.
They’re in a trickling, cooling mess of urine and semen. Changmin snorts with laughter and clings to Yunho. “I think we need a shower.”
“Good idea,” Yunho says, still smiling. “And then you’re going to clean the bath.”
Changmin grins. It’s a small price to pay.
Fandom: TVXQ
Pairing: Yunho/Changmin
Rating: NC17
Summary: Changmin wants something. Yunho isn’t sure he can give it.
Notes: For haeym's watersports prompt on the kink meme.
Let Go
“Yunho,” Changmin says one evening. “Yunho, I want you to pee on me.”
Perhaps he should have picked a better moment. This kind of announcement is probably not best delivered in the middle of food preparation. Certainly not judging by Yunho’s reaction, which is a strangled squawk as the vegetable knife slips off the half-dome of an onion and slices through flesh.
“Shit. I mean-uh. Oh.” Yunho snatches his hand away from the knife and stares at the welling bead of blood.
“Run it under the tap,” Changmin says patiently, accustomed to his boyfriend’s clumsiness. “Here.” He takes Yunho’s wrist, guides him over to the sink, turns on the tap, then shoves Yunho’s injured finger beneath the stream of cold water.
They stand there for a moment, Changmin’s hand still around Yunho’s wrist, and then Yunho pulls free. “It’s fine now. Thanks.” He darts a sidelong glance, a flush on his cheeks as he looks-but-doesn’t-look at Changmin.
Sometimes Yunho can be so shy. Changmin likes that about him; likes that the fearless leader-ha!-can be so uncertain. He’s not prudish, not exactly. His mind fits certain paths and he excels in what he does along those paths, but sometimes Changmin thinks Yunho should... experiment a little more.
Especially if he, Changmin, gets to be the beneficiary.
Yunho holds his finger to his mouth and licks at the cut, rapid and kittenish. He sends Changmin a few more glances. “Um, what did you say just now?”
Changmin takes it as a challenge, even though Yunho’s expression is wary and non-combative. “You heard me perfectly well. I want you to pee on me.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” Yunho examines his finger then just stands there, as if he’s not sure what to do with his hands now. “Why?”
“Do I need a reason?” Changmin raises his eyebrows.
Yunho lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “I guess not. But...”
Changmin turns off the tap and resumes making dinner. Discussions of intimate matters, he’s found, usually have a positive outcome when distraction is involved. The most effective distraction is sex, but he doubts that’ll work this time. Cooking will have to do instead.
He’s unpeeling the papery casing from a clove of garlic when Yunho shuffles back over. Picking up the knife, Yunho prods at the onion like he’s giving it acupuncture. Changmin stifles a sigh and takes over the task, chopping and dicing with practised ease.
“Why?” Yunho asks again.
There are many reasons, not least Because I want you to. Mixed up in that is Because I think it’ll feel nice along with Because I want you to put your scent all over me, but mainly it’s all about Because I want to see you let go. Changmin doesn’t say any of this. Instead he says, “Because of some porno I watched.”
Yunho lays both hands on the kitchen counter. “Oh.”
“Boil the kettle.”
“What?”
“The kettle.” Changmin points in the appropriate direction. “I need hot water to blanch the tomatoes.”
“Right. I thought... Never mind.” Yunho busies himself with filling the kettle and switching it on. “What porno was this?”
Changmin is starting to wish he hadn’t broached the subject. He’d wanted a yes or no answer, not twenty questions as to his motivations. Any minute now Yunho will invite him to lie on the couch and try to give him therapy or something.
“You haven’t seen it,” he says shortly.
“Maybe I should. So I know. You know, so I know what to do.”
Changmin stares at him. “Please tell me you’re potty-trained.”
Yunho blushes, then laughs, and although it’s uncertain, embarrassed laughter, it’s still laughter and that’s a good thing. He ducks his head. “You know what I mean.”
The onion and garlic get tipped into a saucepan over a low heat. Changmin wipes his hands down the side of his jeans and reaches out, curling a finger beneath Yunho’s chin to make him look up. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to do it. I want you to enjoy it, too.”
Yunho gazes at him. “You really want me to do that?”
“Yes. Really.” Changmin lets his hand drop. The kettle judders across the bench, bubbles roiling, steam clouding from the spout. He takes it off the boil and pours the hot water into another pan on top of the tomatoes. “Just think about it, okay?”
“I’m thinking.”
“But don’t think too much.”
“Okay.” Yunho wrinkles his nose. “It’s just... it seems...”
“It’s not dirty,” Changmin says, anticipating that line of argument. “Some people advocate drinking urine for health reasons.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that, because now Yunho is staring at him with an expression halfway between appalled and amused.
“It’s really not dirty,” Changmin says again, using the knife to poke at the tomatoes. The skins are peeling free of the flesh. “And it’s not deviant, either. It’s just... specialised.”
Yunho takes a breath and exhales. “I’ll think about it.”
*
Giving Yunho time to think about anything is usually a bad idea. Changmin watches him considering the proposition. Actually, was it even a proposition? It was more of a statement. Or a demand. Whatever. For the rest of the evening, Yunho sits curled up with a cushion in his lap, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth as he stares blankly at the television. He’s obviously still thinking about it when he goes to bed. Stands to reason it’ll still be on his mind first thing in the morning.
Changmin counts on it.
They don’t always sleep together, a state of affairs both frustrating and satisfying. Changmin wakes early and lies in his bed, listening, convinced that Yunho will have been awake half the night thinking. The alarm clock shrills next door, then it’s silenced. Changmin sits up, pushing back the duvet. He hears Yunho shuffling around, then the click of the bedroom door, footsteps, and Yunho yawning as he wanders towards the bathroom.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, Changmin springs from his bed and bolts out of his room. He shoves at the bathroom door-Yunho never locks it-and strides in.
“Changmin!” Yunho is standing at the toilet. He makes an entirely useless attempt to cover himself, trying to shove his dick back inside his underwear.
Changmin rolls his eyes. “Seen it all before.”
“Yes, but it’s different now.” Yunho is blushing.
“Different because I asked you to pee on me?” Changmin turns on the tap in the sink. He doesn’t open it halfway, as is his usual habit. He just lets the water dribble and spurt, and he watches Yunho blush even redder.
“Turn that off,” Yunho says. “Please.”
“Sure.” Point made, Changmin silences the tap. He leans against the sink and huffs, making a circling gesture with his hand. “Hurry up, will you? I need to go, too.”
Yunho gives him a doubtful look and moves around the toilet until his back is to Changmin. There’s the rustle of clothing. Then nothing.
Changmin folds his lips together, trying not to laugh. He steps forward, going right into Yunho’s space and pressing up against his body. Yunho is tense, breathing fast. No wonder he can’t go. Performance anxiety is a bitch.
“Come on,” Changmin says, sliding his arms around Yunho’s waist. He rubs his right hand low over Yunho’s belly, stroking a heavy caress in slow circles. His left hand rests at Yunho’s hip, safe and non-threatening. He nuzzles into the razored softness of hair at Yunho’s nape. “C’mon, baby. Do it.”
“Don’t,” Yunho gasps. “Changmin, no. I can’t. I’ll... I’ll get hard and-”
“Think of boring things.” Changmin licks a wet line down the back of Yunho’s neck, then blows on it.
Yunho writhes. “How can I think of boring things when you’re kissing my neck!”
“Have some self-control.”
“Thought you wanted me to lose control.”
“Not exactly.” Changmin whispers more kisses up the side of Yunho’s throat, then bites at his earlobe. “Mm. You can do it. Let me help.” He creeps his left hand down from Yunho’s hip and curls it around his cock.
Yunho makes a strangled sound. “Yeah, that’s really going to help me take a piss. Is that how you hold yours? Don’t aim it there. That’s not... Fuck.” His tone of complaint wavers. “Changminnie, I really need to pee. Please let me do this on my own.”
Changmin smiles against his neck. “Are you embarrassed?”
“No.” Yunho is practically glowing with shame. “Yes. I don’t know.”
“You’ve done it in front of me before.”
“Not like this!”
“Is it the sound it makes when it goes all splish-splash?” Changmin asks, trying to sound loving and considerate. “Want me to turn the tap on again?”
“No. No.” Urgency tints Yunho’s voice. “You’re being mean.”
“I’m not. I’m just waiting my turn. You’re taking ages. You must be desperate by now.” Changmin rubs over Yunho’s belly again, exerting gentle pressure on his bladder.
Yunho jerks backwards. “Shim Changmin!”
“Just take a leak already, will you?” Changmin says, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “I honestly don’t want to stand here all day holding your dick.”
“I’m not forcing you,” Yunho says. “Just reminding you, it’s totally your choice.”
“Mm.” Changmin bends his head and bites Yunho’s bare shoulder, does it sharp and hard. At the same time he presses the heel of his hand down over Yunho’s bladder.
Yunho yelps and lets go. A stream of pee arcs into the toilet bowl, strong and steady. Changmin makes a pleased sound and urges his hand along the length of Yunho’s cock. “Don’t stop,” he murmurs, breathing in the rich, sharp smell hot from Yunho’s body. “Oh, baby, don’t stop.”
Yunho squirms in his arms, face flaming, but there’s the uncomplicated pleasure of relief in his expression and he’s smiling, embarrassed and awkward.
“Doesn’t that feel good?” Changmin asks, low and sweet, coaxing out the last few droplets. “Imagine how much better it’ll feel when you do it all over me. I want it, Yun. I really want it.”
He gives Yunho’s cock a little shake; runs his thumb over the tip. Then he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks it.
Yunho makes a shocked sound, staring at him.
Changmin smiles, then leans forward and flushes the toilet.
*
A few days later, Changmin comes home to find Yunho sitting in front of the television. Two empty beer bottles are on the floor. He’s almost finished the contents of a third bottle.
“Have a drink,” he says.
Changmin shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“No.” Yunho looks at him, almost pleading. “Have a drink.”
It takes Changmin a moment, but then he realises what might-might-be about to happen, and he says, “Oh. Right. Why not. I’m kind of thirsty, actually.” He goes into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and takes out two bottles. He uncaps them both, then returns to the living room, offering one to Yunho. “I got you another. In case you need it.”
“Thanks.” Yunho appears to be stone-cold sober. It’s only the slight pinking over his cheeks and the slow, careful way he raises the bottle to his lips that suggest otherwise. He finishes the third bottle and starts on the fourth.
Changmin lifts his own beer and takes a swig. It’s cool and smooth on his tongue, a clean taste. He settles into an armchair and watches Yunho watching the television.
Yunho is nervous but determined. When he’s in this kind of mood, he goes almost completely still. It’s pretty close to the way he behaves when they’re working, when he’s preparing for a live performance: shut down and focused, imagining a successful outcome long before they take to the stage. He sinks into himself then, in those moments when he doesn’t have to acknowledge anyone else’s hopes or expectations, but Changmin knows that’ll come, and he doesn’t want it on those terms.
“Yunho.” Changmin puts down his beer and goes over to the couch, kneels on the floor and takes the bottle from Yunho’s hand. “Not like this.”
Yunho blinks at him. “I want to give you what you want.”
Changmin catches Yunho’s hand and rubs his cheek against it. “I want you to want it, too.”
Defeat sags the resolute set of Yunho’s shoulders. “I’m not sure. It seems...”
“Degrading? Humiliating?” Changmin tilts his head and smiles. “It’s not. It won’t be. Not between us.”
Yunho bites his lip. He’s still uncertain, but there’s something in his eyes, an expression that suggests he’s not entirely averse to the idea. Changmin just needs to push a little harder. Maybe it’s time to be honest, because while Yunho’s been thinking about it, so has Changmin; and now he’s ready to give answers to the question Yunho is no longer asking.
“I want it,” Changmin says softly. “I want the warmth of it, hot and fresh. I want what was inside of you to splash all over me. I want the scent of it. I want to be covered in it, as if you’re marking me. Like a possessive thing, like animals do. It’s sexy, Yun. It’s so sexy, being claimed in such a primal way.”
He pauses, conscious of his arousal, tight and insistent. Changmin laughs. “God, look at me. We’re just talking about it and I’m hard.”
Yunho strokes a hand through Changmin’s hair, ruffling it into his eyes. “Any other reason?”
“Yes.” Changmin tosses his head and meets Yunho’s gaze. “I really want to see you do it. That’s going to be the biggest turn-on of all. I want to see you let go, and in more than a sexual way. I want to see you let go for me, because I asked you to, because you want to.”
There’s a long silence.
“Okay.” Yunho slides his hand down to Changmin’s shoulder. He smiles. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A fluttering of nerves wakens in Changmin. “Now?”
“Yeah. Now.”
They go into the bathroom. Yunho is slightly unsteady on his feet, the kick of the alcohol finally catching up with him. Changmin enjoys the chance to fuss over him a little, undressing in haste and then taking Yunho’s clothes off with slow deliberation and excited anticipation. He kisses Yunho, brushes his mouth over lips, neck, chest.
“Don’t,” Yunho warns, “don’t turn me on.”
“Sorry.” Changmin pulls away. He climbs into the bath by the taps and kneels there, cock stiff, balls hanging low between his thighs. His erection dips a little at the hard chill of the ceramic tub and the cold, uncomfortable touch of the taps against his back. The position is painful without any padding under his knees, but he doesn’t want to get out and fetch a towel. He doesn’t dare spoil this moment.
Yunho hesitates a second longer before stepping into the bath. He puts one hand flat against the tiled wall and stands right at the far end of the tub, then shuffles closer, edges backwards, and moves forwards again as if he’s calculating distances. There’s probably some sort of mathematical equation for working out the correct position for a man to stand in order to achieve optimum flow and pressure when he pees on his boyfriend. Changmin swallows the laughter that threatens to shake itself free at the thought. He doesn’t want Yunho to think he’s laughing at him.
Instead he fixes his gaze on Yunho’s cock. It’s long and thick, his balls heavy, framed by the dark brush of pubic hair. Changmin’s mouth waters. He wants to lean forwards and snuffle through that hair, wants to nuzzle at Yunho’s balls and roll them on his tongue, wants to lick and lick at Yunho’s cock until he’s huge and stiff and making Changmin moan around it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Yunho says, taking his cock in hand. He’s blushing and flustered and absolutely adorable. “This is difficult enough as it is. You’re naked and hard and now you’re looking at me like you want to...”
“Don’t think about it.” Changmin sits back as Yunho’s dick starts to swell and lift. “No! Don’t get turned on!”
“I’m trying not to.” Yunho draws in a deep breath and looks at the tiles on the wall. His jaw tightens and he goes all tense, then takes a few more calming breaths. After a while, he blinks. “Wow, it’s kind of cold in here. I really need to pee.”
“Yes,” Changmin coaxes. “Give it to me.”
“Don’t say anything!” Yunho shifts on his feet, jiggles up and down a little, his nose scrunching. “Ohhh, I really need to go. Oh, Changminnie. I don’t know. I don’t know if I can.”
Please, Changmin thinks. For me. Do it for me.
A blush burning across his face, Yunho shakes his head forward until his hair hangs in his eyes. He sways forward onto his toes. Quivers. “Oh God. Oh.”
The first spurt splashes out. Changmin scoots closer, excitement scrambling through him as the droplets land on his knee, hot and wet.
“Oh,” Yunho says again, screwing his eyes shut tight for an agonised moment, “oh, baby,” and he lets go.
Changmin gasps and arches against the jet of liquid, tilting his head back as long, deep shudders go through him like an orgasm. “Yes,” he says, high and excited, “oh yes, yes, give me everything, let me take it, oh-”
Yunho stares down at him, directing the warm, trickling stream all over him, up Changmin’s thighs, over his cock and balls and into his pubic hair, up over his belly and his arms and chest, soaking him, making him wet and dripping.
Changmin twists on his knees and moans, racked by a savage pulse of lust. Spiked by Yunho’s wide-eyed gaze, Changmin palms his dick, begs, “More, more, cover me,” and jerks off, his hand wet, cock glistening. Yunho’s scent surrounds him, hot and sharp. Changmin utters frantic cries, urging himself on. He has to do this fast, reeling from the punch of desire; faster, faster; and as Yunho finally finishes, dick still held in his hand, Changmin sways forward and takes him in his mouth, working his own cock harder and harder.
Sensation dizzies him. The salty taste of Yunho’s pee on his tongue. The softness of his cock. The smell of him, musky and warm. Changmin moans, pulling himself on. He needs to come. He needs to give Yunho this. Letting Yunho’s dick slip free of his mouth, Changmin turns his head. He leans against Yunho’s thigh, Yunho’s hands in his hair now, stroking so gently.
“Come,” Yunho says, fingers tightening in command. “Come for me, Changminnie. Let go.”
Changmin gasps, presses his lips to Yunho’s skin, and climaxes in a hot, jerking rush.
His head is spinning, his breathing heavy and fractured, perspiration already cooling over his body. He shivers.
Yunho crouches in front of him, kisses his cheek, his nose, his mouth. “Was that good? Was it what you wanted?”
“Yes.” Another shiver. Changmin’s voice cracks. “Thank you.”
“So polite, Changminnie.” Yunho smiles.
They’re in a trickling, cooling mess of urine and semen. Changmin snorts with laughter and clings to Yunho. “I think we need a shower.”
“Good idea,” Yunho says, still smiling. “And then you’re going to clean the bath.”
Changmin grins. It’s a small price to pay.