wedspawn: Lavender Bunny Section Five (SMM Universe)
Title: Lavender Bunny (SMM Universe)
Section: Five
Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating: R
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
Synopsis: A continuation of the relationship between Yoochun and Junsu from So Much Mine. Once again, hot pretty boys, music, dancing and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
Sections
One; Two; Three; Four
Sin.
For most men, it was a word. For Yoochun, it had come alive in the underground club Junsu led him to.
There was no sign outside, nothing to announce to the world that wickedness lay beyond the heavy steel door. Thick stone columns stood guard besides the wide cement stairs leading down to the plain doorway. Yoochun stopped at the top stair, staring down at the wide-bodied man hidden nearly in the shadows, an awning protecting the entrance from the incessant rain. Junsu continued on, reaching the main landing before realizing his friend wasn’t with him. A turn of Junsu’s head and a quick come hither motion moved Yoochun from his spot, the tenor waiting patiently as the other man joined him.
Once through the door, they stood in a dark foyer, black curtains surrounding banks of bus station lockers, a scantily dressed Filipina passing each of the young men a plastic box. Yoochun stared at the clear container until Junsu hissed at him, telling him to empty his pockets of any electronic devices. Su placed his cell phone, house keys and music player into the box, holding the lid as Yoochun dug for his phone and keys, the small metal square lost in the folds of his jacket.
The woman took the box and locked it in a nearby locker, handing a key dangling from a ball chain to Junsu. Sliding the chain over his neck, he walked forward, allowing the woman to run over his body with a hand scanner. Yoochun glanced curiously as his friend as the woman approached, Junsu holding his arms up in demonstration for the other man. The device beeped as it crossed over his belt buckle, the woman expertly running her fingers along the inside of the metal tab, brushing on the inside with a swift dip of her thumb. Smiling with satisfaction, she parted the curtains and opened the second door, motioning the young men in with a wave of her hand.
Music, loud and industrial, poured from hidden speakers set into the high ceiling. Strings of lights provided most of the illumination to booths and tables surrounding the enormous dance floor, several low stages built at varying heights and groaning under the weight of gyrating bodies barely visible through the dim. A few larger spots diffused the darkness, cerulean hues flashing white as the beat changed, a thick rumbling eroticism poured hot through sensual music.
Junsu appeared to be looking for someone in particular, dragging Yoochun behind him as he walked through the outer circuit of the converted warehouse. Hands clung to the baritone’s waist, explorations of his body boldly cupping intimate lengths of his flesh as he was led past groups of people. Micky lost his bearings as he turned, trying to peer into the smiling faces, the lights flowing over beauty and plain alike. After a long journey through the press of hot bodies, Junsu arrived at a large booth, his wide grin white and welcoming the sight of the young man sipping at a shot of whiskey.
“Hey, Junnie-ah!” Hyukjae stood, sliding free of the young woman wrapped around his body. She pouted heavily, the young man’s attentions only on the arrival of his friend. Clasping Junsu into a fierce hug, Hyukjae paid no mind to the girl as she leaned back with a huff. “Ah, you brought Yoochun into the den!”
“Did you come alone?” Junsu smiled at the woman and bowed his head, his voice lost under the pulsating music. She smiled back at his courteous gesture, bestowing another on Yoochun as he mimicked his friend’s welcome towards her.
“Heechul is here somewhere.” The singer waved out to the dance floor, the other member of his group no where in sight. “I’m glad you got my text message. Come, sit down.”
“Cheryl, can you get us something to drink?” Hyukjae passed the girl a card, whispering into her ear. “I just need a few minutes. I promise, we’ll dance after I catch up with my friends.”
“Is this the first time you’ve brought Heechul?” Junsu asked, sliding into the booth and leaving room for Yoochun to sit next to him. The music was muted slightly by the domed overhang jutting above the booth, the sound waves bouncing off of the molded plastic.
“No, we’ve been before. He’s just been wanting to come for a while.” The singer leaned over and clasped Yoochun on his arm. “It’s good to see you, hyung or should I call you dongsaeng? I never keep up with anyone’s birthdays.”
“Yoochun…or Micky is fine.” The baritone caught sight of two women slithering about each other, arms raised above their heads, serpentine movements involving only themselves, their eyes not moving from each other’s faces. “What is this place?”
“It’s Sin.” Junsu replied with a cocky grin. “One of the few places in Seoul where no one will care what you do and with whom. It’s why we had to leave our cell phones. No electronic devices inside. No cameras or anything that will record what goes on behind that door. In here, no one sees anything and you can be as free as you like. It’s nice to come to when you’re feeling… pressed in.”
“Or if you just want to have a good time without having to be… someone the public sees.” Hyukjae interjected. “People here come to watch or just to dance… sometimes… do other things but that’s… usually not out in the open. Mostly I come here to get away from being…under display. Junsu used to come here a lot when we trained but now that he’s a member of the Chosen, we’ve not seen him.”
“Aish!” Junsu ducked his head, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “You’re just jealous. I wanted Yoochun to see… what happens when there are no eyes on people. It’s not a bad thing, Chunnie-ah. I promise you that.”
Cheryl came back with their drinks, her hips swaying as she walked. Smiling at Yoochun’s gaped amazement, she reached for his hand, pulling him from his place besides Junsu. Wiggling her fingers at Hyukjae, she took the baritone with her onto the dance floor, Yoochun numbly following the beautiful woman, speechless at the displays of open affection surrounding him.
“I’m surprised you brought him here of all places, Susu-ah.” Hyukjae said, taking a sip of his drink and hissing at the harsh burn along his throat. “Yoochun for all of his teasing is fairly… virginal in his worldliness. Aren’t you afraid that someone here will see him and snatch him from under your nose.”
“No.” Junsu pursed his lips in denial. One of the drinks was a soda, probably provided as a chaser for the whiskey. Sipping at the cola, he plucked an ice cube from the liquid, sucking around its edges. “Yoochun is… I mean I want him but… he’s not ready for…”
“He might never be ready.” His friend said watching Cheryl pull Yoochun onto one of the platforms, the woman falling into the thumping bass of the music. Yoochun easily responded, his lanky body gyrating in a graceful masculine counterpoint to her dainty slithers. “I think your Chunnie likes women. You don’t have a chance.”
“It was nice of you to get me a drink.” Heechul appeared out of the shadows, curving his body into the booth, hooking his legs over Hyukaje’s thighs. Reaching for one of the whiskeys, the singer dug a few ice cubes from another soda, sliding them into the potent liquor. “Why hello, Junsu. So nice of you to come tonight. Were we expecting you or did you just decide to show up?”
“I’m a member here.” Junsu reminded the other. “I thought it would be someplace Yoochun might have fun. We’ve just come back from tour and got a little down time.”
“Ah, decided to get him away from your Jaejoong for an evening so the boy can breathe?” Heechul smiled over the rim of his glass. “Or did you just want him away from Jaejoong? It must be hard to compete for anything with him around.”
“I’m not the one who loses to Kim Jaejoong, Heechul.” Junsu replied, drawing soda through a straw, kicking at Hyukjae’s ankle as his friend smirked at him. “Jaejoong and I aren’t in competition for anything…or anyone.”
Hyukjae kept his mouth closed, choosing instead to watch Yoochun dancing with the woman he’d met at the bar. The baritone’s easy face held a handsomeness Hyukjae could appreciate, even though he felt no attraction to the American-reared young man. Winding around the woman’s body, Yoochun turned, sliding into a back step, including another woman into the dance, his wide grin flirtatious and at ease. A bouncing hip hop classic changed over into the rotation, the rhythm a bumping grind that begged for a rolling gait. Dipping his shoulders into a deep circle, Yoochun let the music lead his body, the small of his back limbering with each twist of his hips. Heechul also watched silently, downing his drink before whispering into Hyukjae’s ear, losing himself into the thick of the crowd in search of a partner.
“I don’t think he likes you.” Hyukjae said, leaning over to shout in Junsu’s ear. The tenor’s face split into a wicked grin, his eyes never leaving the swell of Yoochun’s rear cupped by his jeans. “In fact, I don’t think he likes any of you but Yunho.”
“I don’t think any of us care.” Junsu replied, tilting his head over to be heard but never losing sight of Yoochun. Changing the subject away from the volatile Suju member. “I’m glad he’s having fun. He’s been a bit down lately. I think he’s missing his family.”
The sheer joy of dancing took Yoochun’s body to the edge of its talents, honed muscles and practiced moves an erotically charged vision to watch. By nature a caring soul, he engaged the women around him, circling and teasing, never overshadowing or pushing. Generous with his smiles and words, they clustered, shimmying closer to the lean-bodied young man. Freed from the constant pressure of having to be ‘on’ for a camera, Yoochun’s natural amicability surfaced, the sly playful side that Junsu adored seeing.
Sweat soaked the fabric of his shirt, clinging to the flat of Yoochun’s belly. The beat picked up, and he followed, lost in the sublime pleasure of letting his body go, falling into the music. Yoochun found the staccato undertones with the curve of his hips, fluid and strongly masculine. He pulled along to the pulse of the song, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, arms held out and dropping into a primal sway.
A woman approached, stalking the baritone, her hands skimming the breadth of his shoulders with red lacquered fingernails. Matching the dip of Yoochun’s hips, she slid into his body, wending about the trimness of his waist and shimmying over his chest, her short dark hair brushing Yoochun’s throat as she danced. Vibrant and sensual, she stood out among the others, sending other females into the shadows as she claimed Micky for her own.
Hykjae smiled at the annoyance on his friend’s face, a mild quirk of narrowed eyes and pursed lips. His own date returned to the table, Hyukjae standing briefly as she slid in, accepting the singer’s offer of a still cold soda. Crossing her legs, she leaned into the SuJu member, whispering a suggestion that had him grinning widely. Junsu ignored the exchange, either out of politeness or oblivion, concentrating only on the woman and Micky gyrating on the platform.
When the woman’s hands roamed over Yoochun’s chest, Junsu leaned partially out of the booth, his head cocked carefully in a display of weak ire. As her fingers found the young man’s waistband, sliding down over the sparse trail of soft hair Junsu knew lay under the top button of Yoochun’s jeans, Junsu’s shoulders tightened and his body became stiff. The singer was out of the booth when the woman’s boldness brought her hips roiling up into Yoochun’s crotch, her legs sliding between the singer’s thighs, hands tangled in Micky’s fingers and hair. Yoochun leaned into the woman, his face a few inches away from stealing a kiss, a teasing flirt of his mouth over her lips.
Hyukjae tossed back the last shot of whiskey remaining on the table as Junsu stalked to the dance floor, the SuJu member kissing Cheryl on the neck. Trailing his tongue up to the side of her cheek, he asked. “Do you want to go dance?”
“We’ll lose our table.” She smiled, fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt.
Holding his hand out to her, Hyukjae helped her exit the booth, conscious of her short skirt. Kissing the end of the wet trail he’d left, he said. “Honey, I don’t think anyone’s coming back to this table.”
Junsu stood at the edge of the dance floor, unsure of how he ended up on the walkway to the platform where Yoochun danced. He was also unsure of why the nibbles of rage in his belly urged him to peel the beautiful woman from Yoochun’s body, flinging her free of his friend’s lean hips. The one thing that Junsu was certain of was that he needed Yoochun to be seeing only him at the moment, a situation easily remedied. Stepping into the music, the tenor approached his friend, Micky’s back turned towards him.
They’d danced before, every day in the sweaty confines of a studio or on stage, working in conjunction with each other’s bodies. Junsu knew Yoochun’s form nearly as well as he knew his own but nothing prepared him for the electrical shock that reverberated through his body and into his gut when he placed his hand on the small of Micky’s back, his fingers sliding down over the baritone’s right rear before resting on Yoochun’s hip. Micky turned, expecting another woman, his eyes widening at the sight of the tenor’s pretty face. Within a moment, the darkness hung around them, fading the rest of the world into nothing.
In the silence of their thoughts, the men danced. Not the carefully placed steps choreographed from the minds of a hard professional nor the offbeat steps of mocking each other’s movements, something they often did when needing to relax. They instead fell into a daring rhythm, driven by the hounding beat of a music without words, heard in the back of their minds and fueling the intense need to touch one another’s bodies.
Yoochun’s left hand rose, skimming just above the surface of Junsu’s face, his thumb brushing on the other man’s mouth. He teased at the ridge of Junsu’s cheek, letting his touch firm until it pressed against the other’s lips, the tip of his thumb sliding into the moistness he knew lay beyond. Junsu danced in closer, rubbing his face on Micky’s palm, his hands resting on the baritone’s hips, mimicking the sliding movement he’d seen the woman do earlier.
The press of Yoochun’s sex on Junsu’s thigh aroused the tenor, his stomach clenching and his hips moving in closer, rolling just for a second against the shaft cupped in denim. Micky allowed himself a small moan, unable to keep the desire from escaping his throat. So close in to the other, Junsu heard the sexy sigh, turning to meet Yoochun’s eyes and letting his hands drop to the firm trimness of Micky’s butt. The baritone curved his body in to match Junsu’s rhythm, finally pushing the ball of his thumb past the breech of Junsu’s moist mouth.
Unprepared for the entrance, Junsu nearly pushed Yoochun back out, his tongue involuntarily pressing the digit up against the ridge of his teeth. Within a second of realizing what he’d nearly done, Micky nearly pulling his thumb free from the response, Junsu bit down lightly, holding Yoochun there.
He tasted sex in Yoochun’s flesh, the complicated personality of the baritone’s mind and the openness of his overly emotional heart. Suckling, Junsu let his tongue roam over the small ridges on the ball of Micky’s thumb, feeling the striations numb his taste buds, the tingle of Yoochun’s short nail digging into the tip and making Junsu want more. Wanting more, Junsu pressed on, swallowing until he felt the bend of Yoochun’s hand press on the tilt of his chin, a dark promise of wantonness cloaked in the velvet mewlings Junsu made against the other’s skin.
A shoulder bumped hard into Micky, breaking the contact between he and Junsu, sending the other nearly spinning off the platform. Grabbing at the tenor, Yoochun spanned his hands over the other’s waist, protecting him from harm as dancers flowed around them, not seeing nor caring beyond the desirous pull of their own partners.
Grabbing Micky’s hand, Junsu dragged the baritone from the dance floor, finding a dark corner and pushing the other into the shadows. Leaning in, Junsu cupped his hands around Micky’s face, needing a taste of the other’s mouth, desperate to see if the sweetness of his hands was matched by the sugared kisses he’d stolen in the past.
Micky responded, sipping delicately at the part of Junsu’s mouth, laving at the dipping butterfly of the other’s upper lip, his palm cupping Junsu’s chin. Gravel-raked want rumbled a needy growl from Yoochun’s throat, his head bowed to take a kiss from the other’s offered mouth. He’d kissed before, often evoking pleasure to a woman’s core just by his mouth roaming over her tender skin. Yoochun was more than cognizant of where to touch and how to just allow the thrum of desire to skip over his lover’s hot flesh, stroking out each tenderness until she hovered at the edge of passion, easily taken over the edge with just another whisper of his fingers or lips.
Junsu was no different in that. Micky was more than pleased to find that the tenor responded to the touch of his mouth and the gentle probing of his tongue. Tilting Junsu’s chin up, Micky claimed the other’s lips, sucking at the moist flesh, ripening each mons with a pluck of his teeth and then following in with another movement across Junsu’s mouth, a rolling sensation building on each lave. His hands explored unfamiliar territory, the velvet hardness of Junsu’s stomach became a landscape for his fingers to stroke, the tenor’s muscles jumping when Micky found the tenderness of his ribs, following the lines up to lightly skim over the pout of a nipple hidden under Junsu’s shirt. The wetness of his thumb hardened Junsu’s flesh into a point, a pressing rub circling around the tenor’s nipple until Micky heard a pleading moan trapped between their lips.
“I want you.” Junsu gasped finally, unable to take any more of the gentle teasing of Yoochun’s hands and mouth.
“You confuse me, Susu-ah.” Micky admitted, breathing in the scent of the other man, drawing the spicy heat into his mouth. “I’ve never wanted to do this with another man and now… I can’t think of anything else.”
“Then why are we still here?” Junsu teased at Micky’s mouth with his teeth, a light burring of ridges on the swollen ripeness he found in his journey over Yoochun’s face. “Let’s find someplace warm and dark that we can… have fun in.”
“Because, Junnie-ah…” Yoochun reluctantly pulled free of the singer, cupping his friend’s face with one hand and pressing the other back until the air ran cold between them. “I love you too much to just fuck you. I’d want something that lasts if I started something with someone I love as much as I love you. And since you’re not looking for a chance at forever, it’s doomed before we even step away from this place.”
“Because I know, that once I go down into that sweetness your body promises, I don’t know if I’d be able to let it go. Even if I know nothing about loving another man, I know that.” Yoochun whispered, his smile warm. The shine of tears hovered in his eyes, a spill of emotions threatening to reach the heated flesh of his cheeks and mouth. “Far better we just let this lie than let it break our hearts. Or at least my heart. It’s not that I don’t want to….try…because I do. I just can’t. I think it would hurt too much to let you go…especially when I’d never really had that part of you to begin with.”
Section: Five
Pairing: Yoosu (Jaeho)
Section Rating: R
Overall Rating: NC-17
i still hold ranalore responsible for this mess.
Synopsis: A continuation of the relationship between Yoochun and Junsu from So Much Mine. Once again, hot pretty boys, music, dancing and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
Sections
One; Two; Three; Four
Sin.
For most men, it was a word. For Yoochun, it had come alive in the underground club Junsu led him to.
There was no sign outside, nothing to announce to the world that wickedness lay beyond the heavy steel door. Thick stone columns stood guard besides the wide cement stairs leading down to the plain doorway. Yoochun stopped at the top stair, staring down at the wide-bodied man hidden nearly in the shadows, an awning protecting the entrance from the incessant rain. Junsu continued on, reaching the main landing before realizing his friend wasn’t with him. A turn of Junsu’s head and a quick come hither motion moved Yoochun from his spot, the tenor waiting patiently as the other man joined him.
Once through the door, they stood in a dark foyer, black curtains surrounding banks of bus station lockers, a scantily dressed Filipina passing each of the young men a plastic box. Yoochun stared at the clear container until Junsu hissed at him, telling him to empty his pockets of any electronic devices. Su placed his cell phone, house keys and music player into the box, holding the lid as Yoochun dug for his phone and keys, the small metal square lost in the folds of his jacket.
The woman took the box and locked it in a nearby locker, handing a key dangling from a ball chain to Junsu. Sliding the chain over his neck, he walked forward, allowing the woman to run over his body with a hand scanner. Yoochun glanced curiously as his friend as the woman approached, Junsu holding his arms up in demonstration for the other man. The device beeped as it crossed over his belt buckle, the woman expertly running her fingers along the inside of the metal tab, brushing on the inside with a swift dip of her thumb. Smiling with satisfaction, she parted the curtains and opened the second door, motioning the young men in with a wave of her hand.
Music, loud and industrial, poured from hidden speakers set into the high ceiling. Strings of lights provided most of the illumination to booths and tables surrounding the enormous dance floor, several low stages built at varying heights and groaning under the weight of gyrating bodies barely visible through the dim. A few larger spots diffused the darkness, cerulean hues flashing white as the beat changed, a thick rumbling eroticism poured hot through sensual music.
Junsu appeared to be looking for someone in particular, dragging Yoochun behind him as he walked through the outer circuit of the converted warehouse. Hands clung to the baritone’s waist, explorations of his body boldly cupping intimate lengths of his flesh as he was led past groups of people. Micky lost his bearings as he turned, trying to peer into the smiling faces, the lights flowing over beauty and plain alike. After a long journey through the press of hot bodies, Junsu arrived at a large booth, his wide grin white and welcoming the sight of the young man sipping at a shot of whiskey.
“Hey, Junnie-ah!” Hyukjae stood, sliding free of the young woman wrapped around his body. She pouted heavily, the young man’s attentions only on the arrival of his friend. Clasping Junsu into a fierce hug, Hyukjae paid no mind to the girl as she leaned back with a huff. “Ah, you brought Yoochun into the den!”
“Did you come alone?” Junsu smiled at the woman and bowed his head, his voice lost under the pulsating music. She smiled back at his courteous gesture, bestowing another on Yoochun as he mimicked his friend’s welcome towards her.
“Heechul is here somewhere.” The singer waved out to the dance floor, the other member of his group no where in sight. “I’m glad you got my text message. Come, sit down.”
“Cheryl, can you get us something to drink?” Hyukjae passed the girl a card, whispering into her ear. “I just need a few minutes. I promise, we’ll dance after I catch up with my friends.”
“Is this the first time you’ve brought Heechul?” Junsu asked, sliding into the booth and leaving room for Yoochun to sit next to him. The music was muted slightly by the domed overhang jutting above the booth, the sound waves bouncing off of the molded plastic.
“No, we’ve been before. He’s just been wanting to come for a while.” The singer leaned over and clasped Yoochun on his arm. “It’s good to see you, hyung or should I call you dongsaeng? I never keep up with anyone’s birthdays.”
“Yoochun…or Micky is fine.” The baritone caught sight of two women slithering about each other, arms raised above their heads, serpentine movements involving only themselves, their eyes not moving from each other’s faces. “What is this place?”
“It’s Sin.” Junsu replied with a cocky grin. “One of the few places in Seoul where no one will care what you do and with whom. It’s why we had to leave our cell phones. No electronic devices inside. No cameras or anything that will record what goes on behind that door. In here, no one sees anything and you can be as free as you like. It’s nice to come to when you’re feeling… pressed in.”
“Or if you just want to have a good time without having to be… someone the public sees.” Hyukjae interjected. “People here come to watch or just to dance… sometimes… do other things but that’s… usually not out in the open. Mostly I come here to get away from being…under display. Junsu used to come here a lot when we trained but now that he’s a member of the Chosen, we’ve not seen him.”
“Aish!” Junsu ducked his head, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “You’re just jealous. I wanted Yoochun to see… what happens when there are no eyes on people. It’s not a bad thing, Chunnie-ah. I promise you that.”
Cheryl came back with their drinks, her hips swaying as she walked. Smiling at Yoochun’s gaped amazement, she reached for his hand, pulling him from his place besides Junsu. Wiggling her fingers at Hyukjae, she took the baritone with her onto the dance floor, Yoochun numbly following the beautiful woman, speechless at the displays of open affection surrounding him.
“I’m surprised you brought him here of all places, Susu-ah.” Hyukjae said, taking a sip of his drink and hissing at the harsh burn along his throat. “Yoochun for all of his teasing is fairly… virginal in his worldliness. Aren’t you afraid that someone here will see him and snatch him from under your nose.”
“No.” Junsu pursed his lips in denial. One of the drinks was a soda, probably provided as a chaser for the whiskey. Sipping at the cola, he plucked an ice cube from the liquid, sucking around its edges. “Yoochun is… I mean I want him but… he’s not ready for…”
“He might never be ready.” His friend said watching Cheryl pull Yoochun onto one of the platforms, the woman falling into the thumping bass of the music. Yoochun easily responded, his lanky body gyrating in a graceful masculine counterpoint to her dainty slithers. “I think your Chunnie likes women. You don’t have a chance.”
“It was nice of you to get me a drink.” Heechul appeared out of the shadows, curving his body into the booth, hooking his legs over Hyukaje’s thighs. Reaching for one of the whiskeys, the singer dug a few ice cubes from another soda, sliding them into the potent liquor. “Why hello, Junsu. So nice of you to come tonight. Were we expecting you or did you just decide to show up?”
“I’m a member here.” Junsu reminded the other. “I thought it would be someplace Yoochun might have fun. We’ve just come back from tour and got a little down time.”
“Ah, decided to get him away from your Jaejoong for an evening so the boy can breathe?” Heechul smiled over the rim of his glass. “Or did you just want him away from Jaejoong? It must be hard to compete for anything with him around.”
“I’m not the one who loses to Kim Jaejoong, Heechul.” Junsu replied, drawing soda through a straw, kicking at Hyukjae’s ankle as his friend smirked at him. “Jaejoong and I aren’t in competition for anything…or anyone.”
Hyukjae kept his mouth closed, choosing instead to watch Yoochun dancing with the woman he’d met at the bar. The baritone’s easy face held a handsomeness Hyukjae could appreciate, even though he felt no attraction to the American-reared young man. Winding around the woman’s body, Yoochun turned, sliding into a back step, including another woman into the dance, his wide grin flirtatious and at ease. A bouncing hip hop classic changed over into the rotation, the rhythm a bumping grind that begged for a rolling gait. Dipping his shoulders into a deep circle, Yoochun let the music lead his body, the small of his back limbering with each twist of his hips. Heechul also watched silently, downing his drink before whispering into Hyukjae’s ear, losing himself into the thick of the crowd in search of a partner.
“I don’t think he likes you.” Hyukjae said, leaning over to shout in Junsu’s ear. The tenor’s face split into a wicked grin, his eyes never leaving the swell of Yoochun’s rear cupped by his jeans. “In fact, I don’t think he likes any of you but Yunho.”
“I don’t think any of us care.” Junsu replied, tilting his head over to be heard but never losing sight of Yoochun. Changing the subject away from the volatile Suju member. “I’m glad he’s having fun. He’s been a bit down lately. I think he’s missing his family.”
The sheer joy of dancing took Yoochun’s body to the edge of its talents, honed muscles and practiced moves an erotically charged vision to watch. By nature a caring soul, he engaged the women around him, circling and teasing, never overshadowing or pushing. Generous with his smiles and words, they clustered, shimmying closer to the lean-bodied young man. Freed from the constant pressure of having to be ‘on’ for a camera, Yoochun’s natural amicability surfaced, the sly playful side that Junsu adored seeing.
Sweat soaked the fabric of his shirt, clinging to the flat of Yoochun’s belly. The beat picked up, and he followed, lost in the sublime pleasure of letting his body go, falling into the music. Yoochun found the staccato undertones with the curve of his hips, fluid and strongly masculine. He pulled along to the pulse of the song, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, arms held out and dropping into a primal sway.
A woman approached, stalking the baritone, her hands skimming the breadth of his shoulders with red lacquered fingernails. Matching the dip of Yoochun’s hips, she slid into his body, wending about the trimness of his waist and shimmying over his chest, her short dark hair brushing Yoochun’s throat as she danced. Vibrant and sensual, she stood out among the others, sending other females into the shadows as she claimed Micky for her own.
Hykjae smiled at the annoyance on his friend’s face, a mild quirk of narrowed eyes and pursed lips. His own date returned to the table, Hyukjae standing briefly as she slid in, accepting the singer’s offer of a still cold soda. Crossing her legs, she leaned into the SuJu member, whispering a suggestion that had him grinning widely. Junsu ignored the exchange, either out of politeness or oblivion, concentrating only on the woman and Micky gyrating on the platform.
When the woman’s hands roamed over Yoochun’s chest, Junsu leaned partially out of the booth, his head cocked carefully in a display of weak ire. As her fingers found the young man’s waistband, sliding down over the sparse trail of soft hair Junsu knew lay under the top button of Yoochun’s jeans, Junsu’s shoulders tightened and his body became stiff. The singer was out of the booth when the woman’s boldness brought her hips roiling up into Yoochun’s crotch, her legs sliding between the singer’s thighs, hands tangled in Micky’s fingers and hair. Yoochun leaned into the woman, his face a few inches away from stealing a kiss, a teasing flirt of his mouth over her lips.
Hyukjae tossed back the last shot of whiskey remaining on the table as Junsu stalked to the dance floor, the SuJu member kissing Cheryl on the neck. Trailing his tongue up to the side of her cheek, he asked. “Do you want to go dance?”
“We’ll lose our table.” She smiled, fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt.
Holding his hand out to her, Hyukjae helped her exit the booth, conscious of her short skirt. Kissing the end of the wet trail he’d left, he said. “Honey, I don’t think anyone’s coming back to this table.”
Junsu stood at the edge of the dance floor, unsure of how he ended up on the walkway to the platform where Yoochun danced. He was also unsure of why the nibbles of rage in his belly urged him to peel the beautiful woman from Yoochun’s body, flinging her free of his friend’s lean hips. The one thing that Junsu was certain of was that he needed Yoochun to be seeing only him at the moment, a situation easily remedied. Stepping into the music, the tenor approached his friend, Micky’s back turned towards him.
They’d danced before, every day in the sweaty confines of a studio or on stage, working in conjunction with each other’s bodies. Junsu knew Yoochun’s form nearly as well as he knew his own but nothing prepared him for the electrical shock that reverberated through his body and into his gut when he placed his hand on the small of Micky’s back, his fingers sliding down over the baritone’s right rear before resting on Yoochun’s hip. Micky turned, expecting another woman, his eyes widening at the sight of the tenor’s pretty face. Within a moment, the darkness hung around them, fading the rest of the world into nothing.
In the silence of their thoughts, the men danced. Not the carefully placed steps choreographed from the minds of a hard professional nor the offbeat steps of mocking each other’s movements, something they often did when needing to relax. They instead fell into a daring rhythm, driven by the hounding beat of a music without words, heard in the back of their minds and fueling the intense need to touch one another’s bodies.
Yoochun’s left hand rose, skimming just above the surface of Junsu’s face, his thumb brushing on the other man’s mouth. He teased at the ridge of Junsu’s cheek, letting his touch firm until it pressed against the other’s lips, the tip of his thumb sliding into the moistness he knew lay beyond. Junsu danced in closer, rubbing his face on Micky’s palm, his hands resting on the baritone’s hips, mimicking the sliding movement he’d seen the woman do earlier.
The press of Yoochun’s sex on Junsu’s thigh aroused the tenor, his stomach clenching and his hips moving in closer, rolling just for a second against the shaft cupped in denim. Micky allowed himself a small moan, unable to keep the desire from escaping his throat. So close in to the other, Junsu heard the sexy sigh, turning to meet Yoochun’s eyes and letting his hands drop to the firm trimness of Micky’s butt. The baritone curved his body in to match Junsu’s rhythm, finally pushing the ball of his thumb past the breech of Junsu’s moist mouth.
Unprepared for the entrance, Junsu nearly pushed Yoochun back out, his tongue involuntarily pressing the digit up against the ridge of his teeth. Within a second of realizing what he’d nearly done, Micky nearly pulling his thumb free from the response, Junsu bit down lightly, holding Yoochun there.
He tasted sex in Yoochun’s flesh, the complicated personality of the baritone’s mind and the openness of his overly emotional heart. Suckling, Junsu let his tongue roam over the small ridges on the ball of Micky’s thumb, feeling the striations numb his taste buds, the tingle of Yoochun’s short nail digging into the tip and making Junsu want more. Wanting more, Junsu pressed on, swallowing until he felt the bend of Yoochun’s hand press on the tilt of his chin, a dark promise of wantonness cloaked in the velvet mewlings Junsu made against the other’s skin.
A shoulder bumped hard into Micky, breaking the contact between he and Junsu, sending the other nearly spinning off the platform. Grabbing at the tenor, Yoochun spanned his hands over the other’s waist, protecting him from harm as dancers flowed around them, not seeing nor caring beyond the desirous pull of their own partners.
Grabbing Micky’s hand, Junsu dragged the baritone from the dance floor, finding a dark corner and pushing the other into the shadows. Leaning in, Junsu cupped his hands around Micky’s face, needing a taste of the other’s mouth, desperate to see if the sweetness of his hands was matched by the sugared kisses he’d stolen in the past.
Micky responded, sipping delicately at the part of Junsu’s mouth, laving at the dipping butterfly of the other’s upper lip, his palm cupping Junsu’s chin. Gravel-raked want rumbled a needy growl from Yoochun’s throat, his head bowed to take a kiss from the other’s offered mouth. He’d kissed before, often evoking pleasure to a woman’s core just by his mouth roaming over her tender skin. Yoochun was more than cognizant of where to touch and how to just allow the thrum of desire to skip over his lover’s hot flesh, stroking out each tenderness until she hovered at the edge of passion, easily taken over the edge with just another whisper of his fingers or lips.
Junsu was no different in that. Micky was more than pleased to find that the tenor responded to the touch of his mouth and the gentle probing of his tongue. Tilting Junsu’s chin up, Micky claimed the other’s lips, sucking at the moist flesh, ripening each mons with a pluck of his teeth and then following in with another movement across Junsu’s mouth, a rolling sensation building on each lave. His hands explored unfamiliar territory, the velvet hardness of Junsu’s stomach became a landscape for his fingers to stroke, the tenor’s muscles jumping when Micky found the tenderness of his ribs, following the lines up to lightly skim over the pout of a nipple hidden under Junsu’s shirt. The wetness of his thumb hardened Junsu’s flesh into a point, a pressing rub circling around the tenor’s nipple until Micky heard a pleading moan trapped between their lips.
“I want you.” Junsu gasped finally, unable to take any more of the gentle teasing of Yoochun’s hands and mouth.
“You confuse me, Susu-ah.” Micky admitted, breathing in the scent of the other man, drawing the spicy heat into his mouth. “I’ve never wanted to do this with another man and now… I can’t think of anything else.”
“Then why are we still here?” Junsu teased at Micky’s mouth with his teeth, a light burring of ridges on the swollen ripeness he found in his journey over Yoochun’s face. “Let’s find someplace warm and dark that we can… have fun in.”
“Because, Junnie-ah…” Yoochun reluctantly pulled free of the singer, cupping his friend’s face with one hand and pressing the other back until the air ran cold between them. “I love you too much to just fuck you. I’d want something that lasts if I started something with someone I love as much as I love you. And since you’re not looking for a chance at forever, it’s doomed before we even step away from this place.”
“Because I know, that once I go down into that sweetness your body promises, I don’t know if I’d be able to let it go. Even if I know nothing about loving another man, I know that.” Yoochun whispered, his smile warm. The shine of tears hovered in his eyes, a spill of emotions threatening to reach the heated flesh of his cheeks and mouth. “Far better we just let this lie than let it break our hearts. Or at least my heart. It’s not that I don’t want to….try…because I do. I just can’t. I think it would hurt too much to let you go…especially when I’d never really had that part of you to begin with.”