Tears of Everything [Oneshot]
[Tears of Everything - Oneshot] This is for my appa, micky_susu. <3 Don't be lonely, we will always be there for you. ^_^ That is, until dong bang smut kills us all. 8D Saranghae!
The room was beautiful.
The deep, blood red of the carpeted floor gladly accepted the hard-soled heels of Yunho’s work shoes, clinging and caressing his feet like a newborn child. The muted glow of the single lamp spread its warmth in almost every corner and washed over the walls, its luminescence almost as dim as love itself. The silk sheets-oh, the silk sheets. A dark, endless shade of black, if black had shades, that held the universe within its seems, calling out as Yunho’s shaking hands lightly brushed the fabric, “Come into me…come into me.”
It was filthy.
He shuffled his leather-clad feet in that deep, deep red carpet, wondering whether he should sit or stand when his guest would finally enter. He swallowed dry spit, which, like the last few pathetic gulps, stubbornly caught in his throat, leaving him wondering if he should leave now with his last shred of dignity or stay for a while and get his money’s worth. He guided his trembling fingers to his least favorite tie, wondering if he should loosen it now or strangle himself later.
“It’s relaxing. Better than a sauna.”
Changmin had smirked and winked when he said that and pushed a button in the elevator while fishing out his cell phone to call his wife.
The elevator door closed on Yunho’s patience.
This place must have cost as much to furnish as my wife’s Lamborghini, Yunho mused, looking around and distracting himself from the task at hand. At least the sheets were softer than her shrill, destructive voice. Both were equally as filthy.
But finally agreeing to his friend’s suggestion such a long time ago took longer than the hours Yunho lay awake at night, waiting for his wife to come home smelling like tobacco and cologne every Saturday night. Pushing his fingers into the keyboard to find the list of prices demanded more physical stamina than it took to hug his two children goodnight, which he was sure weren’t his. Working up the nerve to walk through that heavy, lavish door was more of a defeated game of mind ping pong than when Yunho woke up every morning and decided whether or not he should bother going to work. Sitting in that room without throwing up was more of a miracle than Yunho could allow him self to conceive.
The sound of the door finally cracking open almost killed Yunho right then and there.
“Good evening, master,” Those simple words poured from the raven-haired, dark-eyed woman like melted ice cream on a sweltering, forsaken day. Or was she a he?
Yunho hesitated, but stood and bowed to his host, at first only bending slightly at the waist, then dipping down, down, further down until he was silently begging the man in front of him for forgiveness.
“No, need for such formalities,” The beautiful man’s voice swam. “You are our respected guest.”
That’s right. Yunho was the guest in this place.
“A-are you…?” Yunho’s voice quivered as much as his hands, his heart, his gaze and his pride.
“No,” The man’s smooth voice seemed to ripple through his milky waves of pale skin. “You may call me Hero. This is your escort.”
Yunho used the time it took for Hero to disappear through the door of the bedroom to breath in and out, a failed attempt at calming his nerves. He reappeared, guiding a slightly smaller man, protectively clutching his shoulders under the thin white fabric of his button down shirt until he stood directly in front of Yunho in the dimly lit room. Hero bowed and left without fanfare.
Yunho took a sharp intake of air, accidentally gathering the man’s scent-the boy’s scent-into his nostrils, marking his presence deep within his mind forever. He was shorter than Yunho, paler than Yunho and stared blankly into Yunho’s chest while he rubbed his toe against his ankle, wondering what he should do next.
His hands.
Childlike and veiny, they reached up to Yunho’s chest, fingertips barely grazing the cotton fabric. Is this a ritual of this place? Is he making the first move? Yunho panicked silently while the other sent tiny sparks of electricity into his body.
After an extended moment, the man’s timid hands pressed harder, more firm into Yunho’s chest and swept around as if searching for something lost or stolen. They traveled up his chest, passed his shoulders, sliding up his neck, which expanded as Yunho gulped, and settled on his face. They stopped there and Yunho watched as the man’s brow creased into something like confusion and resumed their sweeping motions, exploring his nose, lips, ears and eyes blindly.
Blindly.
It dawned on him as he continued to watch the other’s unfocused brown eyes gaze blankly back at him while he let his hands invade the features of his face.
A tiny voice escaped his pink lips. “Y-Yoochun…?”
Yunho grasped the wandering hands in the first act of authority he had demonstrated that entire night. Perhaps in his entire life. How did this man end up here?
“No. Yunho.” His original prepared alias had completely slipped his mind.
For an instant in time, the other man’s countenance darkened and his head dropped a few degrees. Within fractions of seconds, the look disappeared and a delicate smile melted into his lips.
“Oh. Hi, Yunho. I’m Junsu. Do you have anything to eat?”
Yunho considered masking the shock surfacing on his face, but seeing as his guest couldn’t see, there was no point.
“Um, n-no. I’m sorry.”
Junsu’s head tilted a bit to the side and let out a feather-light sigh. “Darn. I could really go for some seasoned chicken.”
“Oh,” It was a completely directionless response coming from a wretchedly directionless man.
The other man let out a soft laugh. A peculiar laugh. It was imprinted into Yunho’s mind along with the man’s scent.
They breathed in the musky silence that followed for ages, chests rising up and down as steadily as the smile that lingered on Junsu’s clear face. Yunho cleared his throat, searching for more reasons to stall.
“Um, how old are you…Junsu?”
“I just turned twenty,” He answered immediately and eagerly, his gaze landing somewhere over Yunho’s broad shoulder.
“You seem much younger.”
He laughed again in that strange intonation that now seemed characteristic of him. “I’ve been told that. How old are you? No, wait! Let me guess.” He put his hand up as if to halt the reply that Yunho never planned to answer. He drummed his slender fingers on the side of his chin and crinkled his brow in deep thought.
“Your body felt quite mature, yet your face and voice are so young. I’m going to guess…twenty-six?”
Yunho didn’t answer. Instead he cleared his throat again for a moment too long to cover up the truth streaming from this stranger’s innocent mouth.
Junsu didn’t seem to mind his silence. Rather, he laughed again for no particular reason and Yunho couldn’t help but think that maybe he was addicted to laughing. Maybe he was equally captivated by that laugh.
The other man turned around blissfully and began walking slowly, yet surely-towards the bed.
“So, why are you here?”
That’s a good question, Yunho thought as he lunged for Junsu whose knees crashed into the bed and he stumbled clumsily into the mattress in a tangle of limbs.
He paused just before laying a hand on the ruffled man who simply lay there with his face buried in the sheets breathing softly. Yunho pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed with his hands in his lap.
“Do you know why you’re here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth like an accident.
The rise and fall of Junsu’s back stopped momentarily, before he pushed himself on his back and stared at the ceiling. Or rather, his eyes settled there purposelessly.
“I love my brother,” Junsu answered firmly. Yunho looked away. “He always took care of me. Even when I fell sick and…this happened,” He blinked vacantly and Yunho clutched the fabric over his kneecap. “When we were younger, he liked to play lots of games with me. But as we grew older, his love for games also grew. But the adult games he liked to play weren’t always financially stable. Those guys he played with-promised all our money to-they chased us. They wouldn’t stop until they had all that was owed to them, plus everything and anything next to Yoochun’s heart. So, they finally took me. Or rather, he gave me to them. I think he was tired of running. Tired of taking care of me. I just hope he’s free now.”
This was not as relaxing as Changmin had promised. If anything, Yunho was more tense than before, wound with the effort of keeping the small sobs from bubbling to the surface and ruining the resolve he had taken weeks to build.
“Are you okay?” Junsu’s brow furrowed slightly and his gaze darted searchingly left and right.
Yunho forced himself to take a deep breath. To breathe in the sin wafting off the two of them. Only one of the men’s scents was not his own to claim.
“Are you okay?” Yunho repeated, regaining a bit more control.
Junsu’s smile broadened, if only by a fragment. “Yes. But I sense that I shouldn’t be.”
“Where are you from?”
“I don’t remember. We moved too much.”
“What about your family?”
“Gone, I think.”
“Where’s your brother now?”
“Gone, I think.”
“You mean dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“Probably.”
“Do you really understand where you are?”
“Not completely. But I have a sense of what we should be doing.”
Both their hands gripped the dark sheets and a drop of sweat slipped into Yunho’s collar.
“Can I ask you a question?” He licked his lips tentatively and Yunho nodded worthlessly.
“Do you have anyone you love dearly, Yunho?” His thumbs lightly tapped against the black swirls of silk beneath him patiently.
There is nothing to love, is what Yunho meant to say.
“I love you,” Is what Yunho meant to think.
Junsu’s smile seemed to glow now, brighter and warmer than that filthy, beautiful lamp across the room, radiating into every dark crevasse of every corner of the room. It captured Yunho and he meant to regret what he had let slip from his lips rather than repeat it over and over in his head like broken record he’d rather not repair.
Still lying on his back, Junsu’s fingers slowly crept their way towards the front of his pants and fumbled with the buttons.
“Um, shouldn’t we…?”
Yunho’s eyes widened and he swatted away Junsu’s hands from the other man’s now exposed boxers. “No.” was all he said before standing up and making his way towards the door. His entire life was tainted. Would it make him feel better to taint another? When will his hands stop shaking?
Junsu gasped and reached out wildly around him into the open space Yunho had previously occupied. Clumsily, he stood up and recklessly flailed his way into Yunho’s hard back, knocking the wind out of both of them before Yunho could twist the doorknob.
Time within that room was their own. If he opened the door, reality would seep through the cracks, polluting their hopeless world, enveloping the layers of despair that coated them both. It was illogical. It was senseless. It was wrong. It was their own pocket of hell.
It was the only thing worth grasping in their fingertips.
Yunho clutched the trembling hands that encircled his torso and stayed there for a while, listening to the silent sobs that never spoke and feeling the other’s hastened heartbeat through his back. Junsu whimpered when Yunho unwrapped his arms from around his body, gasped when Yunho suddenly took his lips.
He nibbled and suckled on Junsu’s bottom lip until its stained pink hue blushed into deep red, sucking until Yunho was sure he would pass out from the rush of blood to his head. Junsu simply stood there, receiving the kiss like a puppy waiting next to the water dish to be fed. Ignoring the other’s complete lack of engagement, Yunho swiped his tongue between Junsu’s lips, forcing his mouth open and free to invade.
Halfway into the kiss, Junsu mewled uncertainly and pulled back. Eyes searching through the face he knew hovered only centimeters-millimeters-away behind the veil of darkness, he touched his hand to his lip.
“Yunho…w-when am I supposed to breathe?”
Yunho reveled in the silence that followed before answering, savoring the sweet, sweet taste of a man’s first kiss. “Never.”
He pressed his lips to Junsu’s more aggressively and slowly guided him backwards toward the silk-sheeted bed until he was straddling the man, murmuring hushed vows to never to let go. Yunho planted deliberate, lingering kisses around Junsu’s collarbone while sliding down the younger’s already unbuttoned pants past his knees and beyond his ankles onto the crimson red carpet.
“Y-Yunho,” Junsu protested, haphazardly pawing the air for Yunho’s face, bringing it closer to his own with the tips of their noses brushing. “Please…do that again.”
It was a language known only to a select few, population-two. Without hesitation, Yunho claimed those soft lips again and never separated until the last button of Junsu’s pure white shirt was undone and tossed on the floor and his own shirt, tie, and dress pants joined it.
Hours must have passed as Yunho devoured the other’s mouth. Junsu only received the kiss motionlessly, helplessly while the older man gently grinded into him through the two thin layers of clothing that remained. The kiss was purely giving and receiving, a relationship the two were willing to live with until their time was up, whether that meant the end of the night or the end of their lives.
Almost in slow motion, Yunho pulled away from the freshly bruised lips, still parted and waiting for another welcome intrusion. Junsu gave a questioning look and tugged on Yunho’s arm.
“Do you want this?” The answer scared Yunho to pieces.
“It’s my job now.”
It was an answer they both had to accept as Yunho gently removed Junsu’s boxers and slipped out of his own until the only thing between them was air and fate. Yet, he still hesitated.
“J-Junsu…I don’t see any lube…”
Junsu’s brow furrowed. “What do you use lube for?”
Yunho sucked in a deep breath and forgot to breathe out.
“You’re going to have to…I mean…I don’t want to hurt you…”
“I trust you, Yunho.”
It was a strong enough push to make Yunho take Junsu’s hand, pulling him up and guiding the younger man off the bed until he was kneeling next to the edge in front of Yunho’s lap.
Unaware of the hardened length directly in front of him, Junsu breathed in and out in staggered, cool breaths. Yunho winced.
“Open your mouth and lean forward. Use a lot of spit,” Was he all the instruction he could mutter as Yunho tightly gripped the edge of the bed.
Timidly, Junsu’s mouth made a small “O” and he curiously latched onto the stiff member. Yunho hissed at the sudden change in temperature and gripped the sheets harder. For a moment, he only suckled gently at the tip, exploring this new sensation provided for him. His tongue lapped at the slit, licking up dribbles of precum.
Yunho was holding his breath again. Shivering.
Junsu ventured away from the tip, traveling down the side toward the base, still tenderly sucking at the throbbing skin, leaving a trail of saliva as instructed. He continued like that, moving up and down the sides experimentally, convinced that the way he heard the man above him gasp and tense up and squirm was a good thing. He journeyed back to the tip and took it into his mouth and lowered himself halfway, making Yunho’s head reel with more intensity than any time his wife took him coarsely and swallowed him whole. Junsu didn’t bob up and down like Yunho, of course, would have expected. Instead, he sucked the way a wind-blown ladybug clings to your arm on a hot, sunny day, quietly nibbling every once in a while, his tongue quizzically stroking around for any more new tastes.
He was barely touching him. Not even using his hands, as Yunho was sure the boy was not aware that he was supposed to, but it burned all the same. A good kind of burn. An incredibly good burn. So good, Yunho was positive if he didn’t stop, that burn would come looking, screaming for release some time very soon.
Abruptly, Yunho scooted back until Junsu’s mouth was left remaining open, lips parting and reopening in search of the loss of heat. He pulled the younger man up and into his lap until Junsu was straddling his thighs, arms childishly clinging around Yunho’s neck.
“One more time,” Yunho barely whispered as he pressed his own fingers up to Junsu’s lips waiting for them to part. Junsu took the fingers, not unlike before, but with a look of confusion as to why he had another man’s hand in his mouth.
After draping his fingers in warm saliva, Yunho reached around Junsu’s waist and cupped the man’s backside with one hand and rubbed his wet fingertip against the tight entrance with the other.
“Relax.”
He slipped an index finger in. Junsu let out a sharp cry, digging his fingernails into the other’s back. Laying kisses all over Junsu’s neck, Yunho pulled his finger in and out, curling his toes and wishing it wouldn’t hurt so much. For both of them.
Yunho waited until Junsu’s harsh breaths became steady gasps of immense pain before entering another finger, earning another, longer, louder cry.
“Yun-ngh-ho…” Junsu panted into his ear.
“It’s supposed to be this way, Junsu,” Yunho never once broke from attacking the other’s neck to reply. He took his hand supporting Junsu’s back around to the front at took both their hardened needs together stroking up and down. Without restraint, Junsu panted and gasped harder as feelings of pain and pleasure clashed together. It wasn’t until Yunho covered Junsu’s perpetually open mouth with his own that he inserted a third finger and changed angles.
A strangled outburst escaped from Junsu’s mouth and into Yunho’s, a confused blend between excruciating pain and euphoric bliss. Soon, Junsu was incessantly mumbling foreign words into Yunho’s fervent kisses and instinctively grinding into both of Yunho’s occupied hands.
Yunho extracted his fingers and removed his hand, gently pushing a whimpering Junsu on his back.
“Are you sure?” No matter how much his body said Go, Yunho wanted to be certain that no residue of doubt hung between them.
“Yunho…” Junsu wailed and arched his back in pleading, simmering need.
Breathless, Yunho clutched behind Junsu’s knees, spreading his legs apart and positioned his tip at Junsu’s entrance. He had barely made it half-one quarter-one eighth-of the way in before Junsu was choking on his own breath crying and shrieking, writhing and clenching, yet demanding Yunho for more.
More is what both of them received.
Mercilessly steady and slow, Yunho buried himself to the hilt inside of Junsu and stayed there, hugging Junsu against his sweating chest as he thrashed, hoping, praying that he would calm down.
Soon, the cries turned to strained moans, signaling Yunho to move. Junsu wrapped his arms around Yunho’s shoulder in a death grip as Yunho completely unsheathed himself and tunneled back inside the restricted cavern.
For the first time, Junsu saw white. First in spots, and as Yunho’s thrusts became faster and deeper, brighter and blinding even to a man who could not see. Yunho couldn’t hold back anymore. He had to breathe. Had to gulp in the scent of this man’s sweat and innocence. Had to call out to the heavens his sinful rapture. Had to confirm that this world would never end.
However it did. With Junsu his arching his back, his chest stained white and Yunho letting out a long groan as he poured out his seed, clutching the waist of the other until he was sure he had left bruises.
They lay there breathing. The only time either of them could remember actually hoping another life-giving breath would follow another. But their time was up. And the two would eventually have to return to work.
“I’m taking you with me,” Yunho murmured with conviction into Junsu’s neck.
Junsu’s breath hitched. “That’s stealing, Yunho. I’m their property.”
“I’m buying you back,” It was a statement. A fact of life. As simple as gravity makes one fall. Sometimes in love.
It made no sense, but neither of them wanted it to. Yunho couldn’t even remember where he’d left his wallet and Junsu shuddered, ridden with the fear of blindly following another into an unknown world, trusting them wholly with his heart once again. It was magnificently reckless, they were surely both aware, but it was their final escape.
Quietly, they shared tears, blending them together until their hearts also wept as one entity. They were tears of joy, tears of sorrow, tears of fear, tears of exhaustion, tears of anxiety, tears of lust, tears of love.
Tears of everything.
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Comments pweeze?! x]
The room was beautiful.
The deep, blood red of the carpeted floor gladly accepted the hard-soled heels of Yunho’s work shoes, clinging and caressing his feet like a newborn child. The muted glow of the single lamp spread its warmth in almost every corner and washed over the walls, its luminescence almost as dim as love itself. The silk sheets-oh, the silk sheets. A dark, endless shade of black, if black had shades, that held the universe within its seems, calling out as Yunho’s shaking hands lightly brushed the fabric, “Come into me…come into me.”
It was filthy.
He shuffled his leather-clad feet in that deep, deep red carpet, wondering whether he should sit or stand when his guest would finally enter. He swallowed dry spit, which, like the last few pathetic gulps, stubbornly caught in his throat, leaving him wondering if he should leave now with his last shred of dignity or stay for a while and get his money’s worth. He guided his trembling fingers to his least favorite tie, wondering if he should loosen it now or strangle himself later.
“It’s relaxing. Better than a sauna.”
Changmin had smirked and winked when he said that and pushed a button in the elevator while fishing out his cell phone to call his wife.
The elevator door closed on Yunho’s patience.
This place must have cost as much to furnish as my wife’s Lamborghini, Yunho mused, looking around and distracting himself from the task at hand. At least the sheets were softer than her shrill, destructive voice. Both were equally as filthy.
But finally agreeing to his friend’s suggestion such a long time ago took longer than the hours Yunho lay awake at night, waiting for his wife to come home smelling like tobacco and cologne every Saturday night. Pushing his fingers into the keyboard to find the list of prices demanded more physical stamina than it took to hug his two children goodnight, which he was sure weren’t his. Working up the nerve to walk through that heavy, lavish door was more of a defeated game of mind ping pong than when Yunho woke up every morning and decided whether or not he should bother going to work. Sitting in that room without throwing up was more of a miracle than Yunho could allow him self to conceive.
The sound of the door finally cracking open almost killed Yunho right then and there.
“Good evening, master,” Those simple words poured from the raven-haired, dark-eyed woman like melted ice cream on a sweltering, forsaken day. Or was she a he?
Yunho hesitated, but stood and bowed to his host, at first only bending slightly at the waist, then dipping down, down, further down until he was silently begging the man in front of him for forgiveness.
“No, need for such formalities,” The beautiful man’s voice swam. “You are our respected guest.”
That’s right. Yunho was the guest in this place.
“A-are you…?” Yunho’s voice quivered as much as his hands, his heart, his gaze and his pride.
“No,” The man’s smooth voice seemed to ripple through his milky waves of pale skin. “You may call me Hero. This is your escort.”
Yunho used the time it took for Hero to disappear through the door of the bedroom to breath in and out, a failed attempt at calming his nerves. He reappeared, guiding a slightly smaller man, protectively clutching his shoulders under the thin white fabric of his button down shirt until he stood directly in front of Yunho in the dimly lit room. Hero bowed and left without fanfare.
Yunho took a sharp intake of air, accidentally gathering the man’s scent-the boy’s scent-into his nostrils, marking his presence deep within his mind forever. He was shorter than Yunho, paler than Yunho and stared blankly into Yunho’s chest while he rubbed his toe against his ankle, wondering what he should do next.
His hands.
Childlike and veiny, they reached up to Yunho’s chest, fingertips barely grazing the cotton fabric. Is this a ritual of this place? Is he making the first move? Yunho panicked silently while the other sent tiny sparks of electricity into his body.
After an extended moment, the man’s timid hands pressed harder, more firm into Yunho’s chest and swept around as if searching for something lost or stolen. They traveled up his chest, passed his shoulders, sliding up his neck, which expanded as Yunho gulped, and settled on his face. They stopped there and Yunho watched as the man’s brow creased into something like confusion and resumed their sweeping motions, exploring his nose, lips, ears and eyes blindly.
Blindly.
It dawned on him as he continued to watch the other’s unfocused brown eyes gaze blankly back at him while he let his hands invade the features of his face.
A tiny voice escaped his pink lips. “Y-Yoochun…?”
Yunho grasped the wandering hands in the first act of authority he had demonstrated that entire night. Perhaps in his entire life. How did this man end up here?
“No. Yunho.” His original prepared alias had completely slipped his mind.
For an instant in time, the other man’s countenance darkened and his head dropped a few degrees. Within fractions of seconds, the look disappeared and a delicate smile melted into his lips.
“Oh. Hi, Yunho. I’m Junsu. Do you have anything to eat?”
Yunho considered masking the shock surfacing on his face, but seeing as his guest couldn’t see, there was no point.
“Um, n-no. I’m sorry.”
Junsu’s head tilted a bit to the side and let out a feather-light sigh. “Darn. I could really go for some seasoned chicken.”
“Oh,” It was a completely directionless response coming from a wretchedly directionless man.
The other man let out a soft laugh. A peculiar laugh. It was imprinted into Yunho’s mind along with the man’s scent.
They breathed in the musky silence that followed for ages, chests rising up and down as steadily as the smile that lingered on Junsu’s clear face. Yunho cleared his throat, searching for more reasons to stall.
“Um, how old are you…Junsu?”
“I just turned twenty,” He answered immediately and eagerly, his gaze landing somewhere over Yunho’s broad shoulder.
“You seem much younger.”
He laughed again in that strange intonation that now seemed characteristic of him. “I’ve been told that. How old are you? No, wait! Let me guess.” He put his hand up as if to halt the reply that Yunho never planned to answer. He drummed his slender fingers on the side of his chin and crinkled his brow in deep thought.
“Your body felt quite mature, yet your face and voice are so young. I’m going to guess…twenty-six?”
Yunho didn’t answer. Instead he cleared his throat again for a moment too long to cover up the truth streaming from this stranger’s innocent mouth.
Junsu didn’t seem to mind his silence. Rather, he laughed again for no particular reason and Yunho couldn’t help but think that maybe he was addicted to laughing. Maybe he was equally captivated by that laugh.
The other man turned around blissfully and began walking slowly, yet surely-towards the bed.
“So, why are you here?”
That’s a good question, Yunho thought as he lunged for Junsu whose knees crashed into the bed and he stumbled clumsily into the mattress in a tangle of limbs.
He paused just before laying a hand on the ruffled man who simply lay there with his face buried in the sheets breathing softly. Yunho pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed with his hands in his lap.
“Do you know why you’re here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth like an accident.
The rise and fall of Junsu’s back stopped momentarily, before he pushed himself on his back and stared at the ceiling. Or rather, his eyes settled there purposelessly.
“I love my brother,” Junsu answered firmly. Yunho looked away. “He always took care of me. Even when I fell sick and…this happened,” He blinked vacantly and Yunho clutched the fabric over his kneecap. “When we were younger, he liked to play lots of games with me. But as we grew older, his love for games also grew. But the adult games he liked to play weren’t always financially stable. Those guys he played with-promised all our money to-they chased us. They wouldn’t stop until they had all that was owed to them, plus everything and anything next to Yoochun’s heart. So, they finally took me. Or rather, he gave me to them. I think he was tired of running. Tired of taking care of me. I just hope he’s free now.”
This was not as relaxing as Changmin had promised. If anything, Yunho was more tense than before, wound with the effort of keeping the small sobs from bubbling to the surface and ruining the resolve he had taken weeks to build.
“Are you okay?” Junsu’s brow furrowed slightly and his gaze darted searchingly left and right.
Yunho forced himself to take a deep breath. To breathe in the sin wafting off the two of them. Only one of the men’s scents was not his own to claim.
“Are you okay?” Yunho repeated, regaining a bit more control.
Junsu’s smile broadened, if only by a fragment. “Yes. But I sense that I shouldn’t be.”
“Where are you from?”
“I don’t remember. We moved too much.”
“What about your family?”
“Gone, I think.”
“Where’s your brother now?”
“Gone, I think.”
“You mean dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“Probably.”
“Do you really understand where you are?”
“Not completely. But I have a sense of what we should be doing.”
Both their hands gripped the dark sheets and a drop of sweat slipped into Yunho’s collar.
“Can I ask you a question?” He licked his lips tentatively and Yunho nodded worthlessly.
“Do you have anyone you love dearly, Yunho?” His thumbs lightly tapped against the black swirls of silk beneath him patiently.
There is nothing to love, is what Yunho meant to say.
“I love you,” Is what Yunho meant to think.
Junsu’s smile seemed to glow now, brighter and warmer than that filthy, beautiful lamp across the room, radiating into every dark crevasse of every corner of the room. It captured Yunho and he meant to regret what he had let slip from his lips rather than repeat it over and over in his head like broken record he’d rather not repair.
Still lying on his back, Junsu’s fingers slowly crept their way towards the front of his pants and fumbled with the buttons.
“Um, shouldn’t we…?”
Yunho’s eyes widened and he swatted away Junsu’s hands from the other man’s now exposed boxers. “No.” was all he said before standing up and making his way towards the door. His entire life was tainted. Would it make him feel better to taint another? When will his hands stop shaking?
Junsu gasped and reached out wildly around him into the open space Yunho had previously occupied. Clumsily, he stood up and recklessly flailed his way into Yunho’s hard back, knocking the wind out of both of them before Yunho could twist the doorknob.
Time within that room was their own. If he opened the door, reality would seep through the cracks, polluting their hopeless world, enveloping the layers of despair that coated them both. It was illogical. It was senseless. It was wrong. It was their own pocket of hell.
It was the only thing worth grasping in their fingertips.
Yunho clutched the trembling hands that encircled his torso and stayed there for a while, listening to the silent sobs that never spoke and feeling the other’s hastened heartbeat through his back. Junsu whimpered when Yunho unwrapped his arms from around his body, gasped when Yunho suddenly took his lips.
He nibbled and suckled on Junsu’s bottom lip until its stained pink hue blushed into deep red, sucking until Yunho was sure he would pass out from the rush of blood to his head. Junsu simply stood there, receiving the kiss like a puppy waiting next to the water dish to be fed. Ignoring the other’s complete lack of engagement, Yunho swiped his tongue between Junsu’s lips, forcing his mouth open and free to invade.
Halfway into the kiss, Junsu mewled uncertainly and pulled back. Eyes searching through the face he knew hovered only centimeters-millimeters-away behind the veil of darkness, he touched his hand to his lip.
“Yunho…w-when am I supposed to breathe?”
Yunho reveled in the silence that followed before answering, savoring the sweet, sweet taste of a man’s first kiss. “Never.”
He pressed his lips to Junsu’s more aggressively and slowly guided him backwards toward the silk-sheeted bed until he was straddling the man, murmuring hushed vows to never to let go. Yunho planted deliberate, lingering kisses around Junsu’s collarbone while sliding down the younger’s already unbuttoned pants past his knees and beyond his ankles onto the crimson red carpet.
“Y-Yunho,” Junsu protested, haphazardly pawing the air for Yunho’s face, bringing it closer to his own with the tips of their noses brushing. “Please…do that again.”
It was a language known only to a select few, population-two. Without hesitation, Yunho claimed those soft lips again and never separated until the last button of Junsu’s pure white shirt was undone and tossed on the floor and his own shirt, tie, and dress pants joined it.
Hours must have passed as Yunho devoured the other’s mouth. Junsu only received the kiss motionlessly, helplessly while the older man gently grinded into him through the two thin layers of clothing that remained. The kiss was purely giving and receiving, a relationship the two were willing to live with until their time was up, whether that meant the end of the night or the end of their lives.
Almost in slow motion, Yunho pulled away from the freshly bruised lips, still parted and waiting for another welcome intrusion. Junsu gave a questioning look and tugged on Yunho’s arm.
“Do you want this?” The answer scared Yunho to pieces.
“It’s my job now.”
It was an answer they both had to accept as Yunho gently removed Junsu’s boxers and slipped out of his own until the only thing between them was air and fate. Yet, he still hesitated.
“J-Junsu…I don’t see any lube…”
Junsu’s brow furrowed. “What do you use lube for?”
Yunho sucked in a deep breath and forgot to breathe out.
“You’re going to have to…I mean…I don’t want to hurt you…”
“I trust you, Yunho.”
It was a strong enough push to make Yunho take Junsu’s hand, pulling him up and guiding the younger man off the bed until he was kneeling next to the edge in front of Yunho’s lap.
Unaware of the hardened length directly in front of him, Junsu breathed in and out in staggered, cool breaths. Yunho winced.
“Open your mouth and lean forward. Use a lot of spit,” Was he all the instruction he could mutter as Yunho tightly gripped the edge of the bed.
Timidly, Junsu’s mouth made a small “O” and he curiously latched onto the stiff member. Yunho hissed at the sudden change in temperature and gripped the sheets harder. For a moment, he only suckled gently at the tip, exploring this new sensation provided for him. His tongue lapped at the slit, licking up dribbles of precum.
Yunho was holding his breath again. Shivering.
Junsu ventured away from the tip, traveling down the side toward the base, still tenderly sucking at the throbbing skin, leaving a trail of saliva as instructed. He continued like that, moving up and down the sides experimentally, convinced that the way he heard the man above him gasp and tense up and squirm was a good thing. He journeyed back to the tip and took it into his mouth and lowered himself halfway, making Yunho’s head reel with more intensity than any time his wife took him coarsely and swallowed him whole. Junsu didn’t bob up and down like Yunho, of course, would have expected. Instead, he sucked the way a wind-blown ladybug clings to your arm on a hot, sunny day, quietly nibbling every once in a while, his tongue quizzically stroking around for any more new tastes.
He was barely touching him. Not even using his hands, as Yunho was sure the boy was not aware that he was supposed to, but it burned all the same. A good kind of burn. An incredibly good burn. So good, Yunho was positive if he didn’t stop, that burn would come looking, screaming for release some time very soon.
Abruptly, Yunho scooted back until Junsu’s mouth was left remaining open, lips parting and reopening in search of the loss of heat. He pulled the younger man up and into his lap until Junsu was straddling his thighs, arms childishly clinging around Yunho’s neck.
“One more time,” Yunho barely whispered as he pressed his own fingers up to Junsu’s lips waiting for them to part. Junsu took the fingers, not unlike before, but with a look of confusion as to why he had another man’s hand in his mouth.
After draping his fingers in warm saliva, Yunho reached around Junsu’s waist and cupped the man’s backside with one hand and rubbed his wet fingertip against the tight entrance with the other.
“Relax.”
He slipped an index finger in. Junsu let out a sharp cry, digging his fingernails into the other’s back. Laying kisses all over Junsu’s neck, Yunho pulled his finger in and out, curling his toes and wishing it wouldn’t hurt so much. For both of them.
Yunho waited until Junsu’s harsh breaths became steady gasps of immense pain before entering another finger, earning another, longer, louder cry.
“Yun-ngh-ho…” Junsu panted into his ear.
“It’s supposed to be this way, Junsu,” Yunho never once broke from attacking the other’s neck to reply. He took his hand supporting Junsu’s back around to the front at took both their hardened needs together stroking up and down. Without restraint, Junsu panted and gasped harder as feelings of pain and pleasure clashed together. It wasn’t until Yunho covered Junsu’s perpetually open mouth with his own that he inserted a third finger and changed angles.
A strangled outburst escaped from Junsu’s mouth and into Yunho’s, a confused blend between excruciating pain and euphoric bliss. Soon, Junsu was incessantly mumbling foreign words into Yunho’s fervent kisses and instinctively grinding into both of Yunho’s occupied hands.
Yunho extracted his fingers and removed his hand, gently pushing a whimpering Junsu on his back.
“Are you sure?” No matter how much his body said Go, Yunho wanted to be certain that no residue of doubt hung between them.
“Yunho…” Junsu wailed and arched his back in pleading, simmering need.
Breathless, Yunho clutched behind Junsu’s knees, spreading his legs apart and positioned his tip at Junsu’s entrance. He had barely made it half-one quarter-one eighth-of the way in before Junsu was choking on his own breath crying and shrieking, writhing and clenching, yet demanding Yunho for more.
More is what both of them received.
Mercilessly steady and slow, Yunho buried himself to the hilt inside of Junsu and stayed there, hugging Junsu against his sweating chest as he thrashed, hoping, praying that he would calm down.
Soon, the cries turned to strained moans, signaling Yunho to move. Junsu wrapped his arms around Yunho’s shoulder in a death grip as Yunho completely unsheathed himself and tunneled back inside the restricted cavern.
For the first time, Junsu saw white. First in spots, and as Yunho’s thrusts became faster and deeper, brighter and blinding even to a man who could not see. Yunho couldn’t hold back anymore. He had to breathe. Had to gulp in the scent of this man’s sweat and innocence. Had to call out to the heavens his sinful rapture. Had to confirm that this world would never end.
However it did. With Junsu his arching his back, his chest stained white and Yunho letting out a long groan as he poured out his seed, clutching the waist of the other until he was sure he had left bruises.
They lay there breathing. The only time either of them could remember actually hoping another life-giving breath would follow another. But their time was up. And the two would eventually have to return to work.
“I’m taking you with me,” Yunho murmured with conviction into Junsu’s neck.
Junsu’s breath hitched. “That’s stealing, Yunho. I’m their property.”
“I’m buying you back,” It was a statement. A fact of life. As simple as gravity makes one fall. Sometimes in love.
It made no sense, but neither of them wanted it to. Yunho couldn’t even remember where he’d left his wallet and Junsu shuddered, ridden with the fear of blindly following another into an unknown world, trusting them wholly with his heart once again. It was magnificently reckless, they were surely both aware, but it was their final escape.
Quietly, they shared tears, blending them together until their hearts also wept as one entity. They were tears of joy, tears of sorrow, tears of fear, tears of exhaustion, tears of anxiety, tears of lust, tears of love.
Tears of everything.
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