[FIC] Low-life, High-strung (7/12)
Title: Low-life, High-strung (7/12)
Pairing: Everyone/Jaejoong
Length: 3,207w (17,593 total)
Summary: Jaejoong, a successful internet porn star, returns to his estranged family after the death of his mother leaves some loose ends.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
L O W - L I F E , H I G H - S T R U N G
7.
Jaejoong almost threw up in the elevator. The up-down as it came to a stop made his stomach somersault, and he clapped a hand over his lips as his mouth filled with saliva. He swallowed quickly, breathing through his nose. The feeling passed a moment later.
The conference room was at the end of the hall, the smallest in the hotel, but still too big for five people. Junsu was already there, looking at a spread of documents across the table. There were three lawyers, all in executive suits, and two of them were explaining aspects of one of the documents to Junsu. The third was at the side table, getting a coffee.
Junsu looked up when Jaejoong came in, and smiled. "Jaejoong-ah!"
"Hi." Jaejoong swallowed his nausea and hoped he didn't look as shitty as felt. "Sorry I'm late."
"Don't worry about it. It's only five minutes." Junsu gestured for Jaejoong to come around the table to join him in looking at the paper in front of him. "This is mother's will -- we're just going over the fine print. She's split her shares between us, fifty-fifty."
Jaejoong nodded and took the paper. In between all the legal jargon, there was his name, nestled next to Junsu's (before it, even). The will had been altered within the past few years; his mother had made no effort to remove him at all, despite her threats. "What's all this about the CEO position?" Jaejoong asked, pointing to a paragraph two thirds down the page. "The board of directors decides that, not her."
"I know, but there's some stipulation -- Mr. Jung, you explained it so well."
The lawyer at the side table turned around, and Jaejoong blinked. It was Yunho, the same man from the bar, and he looked even more tall and authoritarian in his three-piece suit and black glasses. Yunho stared for a beat, eyes flicking between Jaejoong and the work on the table, and Jaejoong could see the thought process as Yunho fought down the look of recognition.
"Jaejoong-sshi," he said, and bowed.
Jaejoong bowed back.
"This is Jung Yunho," Junsu said. "He's an attourney for J&J."
The corner of Jaejoong's lip quirked at the irony. Yunho clasped his hands together in front of him and cleared his throat, looking away from Jaejoong.
"Your mother was a very shrewd woman," Yunho said. "She was careful to keep all of her assets in the family, and to ensure that the Kims would continue to acquire profit from J&J after her death. As a majority shareholder and CEO, she held a lot of sway over the board. She had hoped that one or both of her sons would take the position after her. The board of directors is willing to offer the position of CEO."
"What's the stipulation?" Jaejoong asked.
"Both shareholders have to hold a position in J&J Corp.," Yunho said.
Junsu put a hand on Jaejoong's back. His smile was bright. Hopeful. "You could move back here," he said. "You wouldn't have to work in Seoul."
Jaejoong frowned. "What if I don't want to work for J&J?"
"You can refuse the position," Yunho said, shrugging. "Or the shares. You aren't obligated to accept an inheritence."
"What happens to the shares if I refuse?"
"They go to your brother."
Jaejoong put the paper down on the table and stepped back, away from Junsu's touch and his questioning look. "Then I refuse. I don't want anything to do with J&J."
For a moment, everything was silent. The lawyers all exchanged looks of surprise. Junsu opened his mouth, but said nothing. He sat there gaping like a fish, unable to speak. Jaejoong could see the emotions flickering across his face, a mess of confusion and hurt, and then Junsu snapped his mouth shut and stood up.
"Gentlemen, if we could have a moment to discuss this," he said. Junsu was already a master at corporate doublespeak. His words, though polite, had the same effect as saying get the fuck out. The lawyers bowed, Yunho sparing a confused glance at Jaejoong, and quickly stepped outside.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Junsu rounded on his brother. His expression was more hurt than angry, but his hands were balled into fists and his face was flushed. "What are you playing at?" He hissed.
Jaejoong raised his hands. "I'm not the one being dishonest."
"The hell you are!"
"I'm not. I liked my life, Junsu, up until a week ago. I finally thought I had shit figured out for myself. And then you call me, telling me that Umma's died and left a big clusterfuck and I need to come right away, no questions asked." Jaejoong crossed his arms. "You knew I was going to say no to this. That's why you didn't tell me."
Junsu frowned, and looked at his feet. When he spoke his voice was small and unsure. "If I said anything, you wouldn't have come."
"You're right. I wouldn't've."
Junsu made a face like he'd been kicked. Jaejoong could barely watch; every word registered with Junsu like a physical pain.
"We have to move on, Su," Jaejoong whispered.
Junsu didn't say anything. He stared resolutely at the floor, his mouth pressed into a thin line, hands balled into fists. He was trying not to cry.
"Let's call a break, or a recess, or whatever it's called in a meeting like this." Jaejoong gestured towards the door. "I'm going to go have a smoke, and when I come back I'm going to sign whatever paperwork needs to be signed to get me off the inheritance. I don't want it."
Junsu looked miserable, but he nodded. "Okay, hyung."
"Right. Okay." Jaejoong stepped backwards to the door.
He ran into Yunho in the lobby. He was leaning against a pillar, hands in his pockets, chewing the insides of his cheeks. "You never told me that you were Kim Jaejoong," Yunho said.
"I didn't think it was important. You never told me you were my lawyer," Jaejoong retorted. He went through the double doors to the street, and Yunho followed next to him.
Yunho shook his head when Jaejoong offered a cigarette. With a shrug, Jaejoong lit his own and took a drag, letting the smoke curl in his lungs for a long moment before exhaling. He ran a hand through his hair.
"Are you okay?" Yunho asked. He moved to stand in front, so that he could see Jaejoong's face. He looked genuinely concerned, staring with big brown eyes through his thick-rimmed glasses. "I know you asked me to leave the other day, but I shouldn't have left you alone after that. That's pretty much the number one rule of sub care and I just left. That was really stupid of me. I've been worrying about it all week."
Jaejoong smiled. "I'm fine."
"Here, look." Yunho reached into one of the pockets on his suit and pulled out a business card and a pen. He wrote a number on the back. "This is for my office in Seoul," he said, handing over the card. "My personal number is on the back. You can call me whenever; I'm usually pretty good about answering."
It was a weird feeling. Jaejoong couldn't remember the last time he exchanged phone numbers with someone. He pocketed the card. "Thanks."
"I fly back to Seoul on Monday," Yunho said. "I'd like to see you again."
Jaejoong nodded, and let Yunho kiss him on the cheek. He was one of those men; dominating in bed, but a complete lamb in daily life. He waited for Jaejoong to finish his smoke and held the door for him to go back inside.
~
The paperwork was drafted, but the signatures would have to wait for another meeting, after the final drafts were drawn and printed. Junsu was silent and sullen through the rest of the meeting. He nodded his head, and thanked everyone graciously for coming, but it was easy to see the defeat on his face.
The lawyers left together. Yunho smiled reassuringly at Jaejoong and mouthed, "Call me," as he passed. Jaejoong nodded.
The air in the room was thick with tension. Junsu rested his head in his hands. "That lawyer was hitting on you," he said.
"I know."
"Are you going to see him again?"
Jaejoong shrugged. "Probably."
"... why?"
Jaejoong pivoted to look at his brother. Junsu was resting his face on the crook of his arms. His eyes were closed, and he looked tired. "We already met," Jaejoong said. "He came to my room a few days ago."
Junsu was quiet, thoughtful. He lifted his head. "You know, I justified your work," he said. "It's just a job, right? You get paid, you go home. But seeing you... seeing that," Junsu's expression was heartbreaking, his lips pursed, eyes glassy, "it makes it real. You really don't care anymore."
"Fuck off, Junsu." Jaejoong cared too much. That was the problem.
Junsu frowned and stood up. "No, fuck you. Do you bend over for everyone just to spite me? Is that why you act like such a slut?"
For a split second, Jaejoong thought that Junsu was about to hit him. Junsu lunged forward and pinned Jaejoong against the table, pushing his shoulders to make him sit. His mouth followed a moment later, and Jaejoong barely registered what was happening before he was being kissed. Junsu bit at his lips, too rough, sucking like he meant to bruise them. He held Jaejoong's head, one hand curled around the nape of his neck, the other firmly gripping his jaw.
Jaejoong whimpered. His hands found Junsu's shoulders and stayed there, unable to commit to shoving him away.
Junsu's tongue pressed against his teeth, asking to deepen the kiss. Jaejoong finally decided what to do with his hands, and he pushed. Junsu stumbled backwards and caught himself on the side table, coffee mugs rattling.
"Jaejoong..."
Jaejoong touched his fingertips to his swollen lips. Without a word, without a glance back at his brother, he left the room.
Jaejoong speed-walked around the corner and started mashing the button for the elevator. It couldn't come fast enough. He paced, and then paced inside the elevator; standing still would have driven him crazy.
He burst into his room, tossing the keycard on the table, and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He called the second number on speed dial and leaned against the wall while it rang, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
A sleepy voice answered, "Hello?"
"Fuck, Min. I need you. I'm so fucking hard!"
Changmin chuckled on the other end. "Figures. I knew you wouldn't last two weeks, hyung."
"I don't want to talk," Jaejoong said. He let himself fall onto the bed with a thwump, and started fighting one-handedly to remove his clothes. "I want you to fuck me, Minnie. I want you to fuck me like you wanna make me bleed."
Changmin suddenly sounded a lot more awake. "Where are you right now?"
"Hotel room. On top of the bed. You still in bed?"
"Fell asleep on the couch. Clothes?"
Jaejoong hissed as he popped the first button of his fly. "Not for long."
"No, leave them on. I wanna take them off myself."
"Fuck, come on, Min," Jaejoong whined, but he moved his hand away from his pants and fisted it into the blankets.
"Oh, Jae," Changmin said. His voice was low. "If you wanna be a little slut, you need to earn it first. What's your mouth doing, other than flapping?"
Jaejoong squeezed his eyes shut, and let himself visualize. He formed a mental picture of Changmin on the couch, reclined with his hands behind his head, cock pressing against the cotton of his boxers. "I'm kissing your stomach," Jaejoong decided. He liked the trail of hair under Changmin's navel that dipped beneath his waistband; he liked how it tickled his chin, and the sound it made, quiet and wet, when he ran his tongue over it. "I've got your waistband between my teeth, and I'm pulling it down."
Jaejoong could hear the snap of elastic on Changmin's end, and a low grunt of approval.
"I'm teasing you," Jaejoong whispered. He imagined Changmin's cock, in all its hard and veiny glory, springing free from his boxers and pointing up to his belly. He'd seen Changmin touch himself before, and knew that he was trailing his fingers over his length, mimicking the feather-light touch of Jaejoong's lips.
"I love the way you look at me when you're sucking my cock," Changmin said. "You fucking love it. I just wanna..." Changmin trailed off, his breath hitching.
"Wanna what?"
"Grab your hair. Right behind your ear, a big handful, and shove your face on my cock. Wanna fuck your mouth."
Jaejoong fisted his free hand into his hair, tugging it taut. "Min, I'm so hard," he moaned.
"Good for you. Open your mouth. Put three fingers in. I want to hear you suck."
With the phone propped between his shoulder and the pillow, Jaejoong put three fingers against his lips. He kissed his fingertips first, and then took them into his mouth up to the first knuckle, and then the second. Changmin groaned, and he opened his mouth and sucked down to the last knuckle, his fingers curling over the back of his tongue.
He drew them out with a lot of slurping, and started to pump his hand. He tightened his hold on his hair, moaning at the burn in his scalp and the sensitive area just below his temples. He bucked his hips into the air, trying for friction that never came.
"Fuck, stop it. That sound is gonna make me cum."
Jaejoong pulled his fingers away from his lips. "Touch me," he whispered, voice hoarse.
"I'm pulling your shirt up. Tweaking your nipple ring. I'm licking it -- wet your fingers, Jae, and twist it around."
Jaejoong did as he was told. He lifted his shirt and trailed his wet fingers up to his nipples. He grabbed his piercing in the tips of his fingers, slicking it up, and twisted it. He moaned into the phone and heard his own voice echoing back to him.
"Undo your pants, Jae, but don't touch your cock."
Jaejoong tugged his jeans over his hips and kicked them off. He tugged hard on his nipple ring again, twisting it between his fingers. He tried to imagine Changmin on top of him, but the image wouldn't come. Instead, there was Junsu -- not the teenager he'd fooled around with, but the Junsu from the conference room, hurt and angry and cussing. Calling Jaejoong a slut.
Hands roaming, Jaejoong touched the places that Junsu did behind his closed eyelids; a feather-light carress over his ribs, a nip on the inside of his hipbone, nails scratching across his chest. He breathed in sharply when he carressed along the insides of his thighs, ticklish, his cock jumping at the touch.
"Fuck, that feels good," Jaejoong whispered.
Changmin was breathing hard. "Lift up your knees. Prep yourself for my cock, Jae. Get your fingers wet again."
Jaejoong closed his eyes and imagined Junsu's fingers prying between his lips, pinching his tongue. He trailed his hand down the length of his torso, letting his cock brush against his wrist as he reached between his legs. He arched his back, curling his tailbone, and prodded the pads of his fingers over his hole.
"Just one finger. Slide it in slow. I wanna hear you beg for it."
It was Junsu's middle finger, not Jaejoong's, slipping inside of him. He pushed easily past the first ring of muscle and clenched around the intrusion. He wanted to be filled, and one finger wasn't enough. Jaejoong pushed in to the third knuckle, arching his finger to brush against his prostate, breath catching in his throat. His index finger was curled just under his ball sac, prodding insistently.
"Fuck, more. I want you to fuck me. Please, Jun--" Jaejoong bit his tongue, but didn't bother correcting himself.
Changmin didn't care. He groaned, deep and low in his throat. "I want you to spread that hole a little more. I want to fuck you so bad."
Jaejoong added a second finger, scissoring his hand as wide as he could, trying to get a burn. He pressed a third inside, hissing through his teeth, and crooked all three fingers upwards. He cried out at the pleasure that wracked through his body, and slowly he began moving his fingers in-and-out. "Fuck me," he whispered.
"Do you have a free hand?" Changmin asked. "Grab your cock with it. Jerk and fuck yourself with your fingers. And don't hold back, Jae. Let me hear the sounds you make."
Jaejoong reached down with shaking fingers to get a grip on his cock. Junsu had always been a little nervous touching Jaejoong's cock, and he stroked tentatively, getting a feel for the slide of Jaejoong's skin before starting to pump his hand. He was a lot more confident of his fingers; he used to love afternoons home alone, when he could get Jaejoong on the bed, knees to his shoulders, and suck and finger his hole until Jaejoong came, gasping and whining, without touching his cock.
Jaejoong mimicked both the unsure rhythm on his cock, a little bit too slow, and the depth of his fingers, working his hole hard. He moaned and started to buck his hips, letting gravity push his fingers deeper. "Oh god," Jaejoong whimpered. "Fuck, Junsu, fuck."
Changmin was jerking off, his breath heaving, and he paused at the name.
Jaejoong bucked against his hand, getting close. He hoped that Changmin would't say anything to break the spell. He could practically feel Junsu between his thighs, squeezing his cock in his hand and fucking him hard. Jaejoong moaned. "Ah, fuck, Su, I'm such a slut."
"You are," Changmin whispered. He started moving his hand again, the tell-tale slapping sound in the background.
Jaejoong lifted one leg higher, and suddenly he could plunge his fingers deeper, harder. He hissed, "I'm gonna cum," and his movements became erratic. The phone slipped between the pillows.
He fisted his cock in his hand and jerked it almost painfully, squeezing it from base-to-tip, and with every thrust into his hand he drove his fingers deeper inside of him, twisting and tweaking against his prostate.
He came, moaning his brother's name, his whole body going rigid except for his fingers, still pressing inside of him. Thick ropes of cum shot across his stomach. Jaejoong felt the clench of his hole around his fingers, tight and then loose and then tight again.
He fished his cell phone from behind his head, and when he put it to his ear, Changmin was moaning out his orgasm, "Fuck, hyung, fuck, I'm coming."
They panted into the phone together, catching their breaths. Jaejoong slowly slipped his fingers out of his hole and wiped his hand on the bed.
"I won't ask," Changmin said.
"Thank you."
They panted for another minute, and then Changmin said he should make some breakfast.
"Take care of yourself, hyung, okay?"
Jaejoong nodded, even though Changmin couldn't see it. He hung up.
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wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Everyone/Jaejoong
Length: 3,207w (17,593 total)
Summary: Jaejoong, a successful internet porn star, returns to his estranged family after the death of his mother leaves some loose ends.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
L O W - L I F E , H I G H - S T R U N G
7.
Jaejoong almost threw up in the elevator. The up-down as it came to a stop made his stomach somersault, and he clapped a hand over his lips as his mouth filled with saliva. He swallowed quickly, breathing through his nose. The feeling passed a moment later.
The conference room was at the end of the hall, the smallest in the hotel, but still too big for five people. Junsu was already there, looking at a spread of documents across the table. There were three lawyers, all in executive suits, and two of them were explaining aspects of one of the documents to Junsu. The third was at the side table, getting a coffee.
Junsu looked up when Jaejoong came in, and smiled. "Jaejoong-ah!"
"Hi." Jaejoong swallowed his nausea and hoped he didn't look as shitty as felt. "Sorry I'm late."
"Don't worry about it. It's only five minutes." Junsu gestured for Jaejoong to come around the table to join him in looking at the paper in front of him. "This is mother's will -- we're just going over the fine print. She's split her shares between us, fifty-fifty."
Jaejoong nodded and took the paper. In between all the legal jargon, there was his name, nestled next to Junsu's (before it, even). The will had been altered within the past few years; his mother had made no effort to remove him at all, despite her threats. "What's all this about the CEO position?" Jaejoong asked, pointing to a paragraph two thirds down the page. "The board of directors decides that, not her."
"I know, but there's some stipulation -- Mr. Jung, you explained it so well."
The lawyer at the side table turned around, and Jaejoong blinked. It was Yunho, the same man from the bar, and he looked even more tall and authoritarian in his three-piece suit and black glasses. Yunho stared for a beat, eyes flicking between Jaejoong and the work on the table, and Jaejoong could see the thought process as Yunho fought down the look of recognition.
"Jaejoong-sshi," he said, and bowed.
Jaejoong bowed back.
"This is Jung Yunho," Junsu said. "He's an attourney for J&J."
The corner of Jaejoong's lip quirked at the irony. Yunho clasped his hands together in front of him and cleared his throat, looking away from Jaejoong.
"Your mother was a very shrewd woman," Yunho said. "She was careful to keep all of her assets in the family, and to ensure that the Kims would continue to acquire profit from J&J after her death. As a majority shareholder and CEO, she held a lot of sway over the board. She had hoped that one or both of her sons would take the position after her. The board of directors is willing to offer the position of CEO."
"What's the stipulation?" Jaejoong asked.
"Both shareholders have to hold a position in J&J Corp.," Yunho said.
Junsu put a hand on Jaejoong's back. His smile was bright. Hopeful. "You could move back here," he said. "You wouldn't have to work in Seoul."
Jaejoong frowned. "What if I don't want to work for J&J?"
"You can refuse the position," Yunho said, shrugging. "Or the shares. You aren't obligated to accept an inheritence."
"What happens to the shares if I refuse?"
"They go to your brother."
Jaejoong put the paper down on the table and stepped back, away from Junsu's touch and his questioning look. "Then I refuse. I don't want anything to do with J&J."
For a moment, everything was silent. The lawyers all exchanged looks of surprise. Junsu opened his mouth, but said nothing. He sat there gaping like a fish, unable to speak. Jaejoong could see the emotions flickering across his face, a mess of confusion and hurt, and then Junsu snapped his mouth shut and stood up.
"Gentlemen, if we could have a moment to discuss this," he said. Junsu was already a master at corporate doublespeak. His words, though polite, had the same effect as saying get the fuck out. The lawyers bowed, Yunho sparing a confused glance at Jaejoong, and quickly stepped outside.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Junsu rounded on his brother. His expression was more hurt than angry, but his hands were balled into fists and his face was flushed. "What are you playing at?" He hissed.
Jaejoong raised his hands. "I'm not the one being dishonest."
"The hell you are!"
"I'm not. I liked my life, Junsu, up until a week ago. I finally thought I had shit figured out for myself. And then you call me, telling me that Umma's died and left a big clusterfuck and I need to come right away, no questions asked." Jaejoong crossed his arms. "You knew I was going to say no to this. That's why you didn't tell me."
Junsu frowned, and looked at his feet. When he spoke his voice was small and unsure. "If I said anything, you wouldn't have come."
"You're right. I wouldn't've."
Junsu made a face like he'd been kicked. Jaejoong could barely watch; every word registered with Junsu like a physical pain.
"We have to move on, Su," Jaejoong whispered.
Junsu didn't say anything. He stared resolutely at the floor, his mouth pressed into a thin line, hands balled into fists. He was trying not to cry.
"Let's call a break, or a recess, or whatever it's called in a meeting like this." Jaejoong gestured towards the door. "I'm going to go have a smoke, and when I come back I'm going to sign whatever paperwork needs to be signed to get me off the inheritance. I don't want it."
Junsu looked miserable, but he nodded. "Okay, hyung."
"Right. Okay." Jaejoong stepped backwards to the door.
He ran into Yunho in the lobby. He was leaning against a pillar, hands in his pockets, chewing the insides of his cheeks. "You never told me that you were Kim Jaejoong," Yunho said.
"I didn't think it was important. You never told me you were my lawyer," Jaejoong retorted. He went through the double doors to the street, and Yunho followed next to him.
Yunho shook his head when Jaejoong offered a cigarette. With a shrug, Jaejoong lit his own and took a drag, letting the smoke curl in his lungs for a long moment before exhaling. He ran a hand through his hair.
"Are you okay?" Yunho asked. He moved to stand in front, so that he could see Jaejoong's face. He looked genuinely concerned, staring with big brown eyes through his thick-rimmed glasses. "I know you asked me to leave the other day, but I shouldn't have left you alone after that. That's pretty much the number one rule of sub care and I just left. That was really stupid of me. I've been worrying about it all week."
Jaejoong smiled. "I'm fine."
"Here, look." Yunho reached into one of the pockets on his suit and pulled out a business card and a pen. He wrote a number on the back. "This is for my office in Seoul," he said, handing over the card. "My personal number is on the back. You can call me whenever; I'm usually pretty good about answering."
It was a weird feeling. Jaejoong couldn't remember the last time he exchanged phone numbers with someone. He pocketed the card. "Thanks."
"I fly back to Seoul on Monday," Yunho said. "I'd like to see you again."
Jaejoong nodded, and let Yunho kiss him on the cheek. He was one of those men; dominating in bed, but a complete lamb in daily life. He waited for Jaejoong to finish his smoke and held the door for him to go back inside.
~
The paperwork was drafted, but the signatures would have to wait for another meeting, after the final drafts were drawn and printed. Junsu was silent and sullen through the rest of the meeting. He nodded his head, and thanked everyone graciously for coming, but it was easy to see the defeat on his face.
The lawyers left together. Yunho smiled reassuringly at Jaejoong and mouthed, "Call me," as he passed. Jaejoong nodded.
The air in the room was thick with tension. Junsu rested his head in his hands. "That lawyer was hitting on you," he said.
"I know."
"Are you going to see him again?"
Jaejoong shrugged. "Probably."
"... why?"
Jaejoong pivoted to look at his brother. Junsu was resting his face on the crook of his arms. His eyes were closed, and he looked tired. "We already met," Jaejoong said. "He came to my room a few days ago."
Junsu was quiet, thoughtful. He lifted his head. "You know, I justified your work," he said. "It's just a job, right? You get paid, you go home. But seeing you... seeing that," Junsu's expression was heartbreaking, his lips pursed, eyes glassy, "it makes it real. You really don't care anymore."
"Fuck off, Junsu." Jaejoong cared too much. That was the problem.
Junsu frowned and stood up. "No, fuck you. Do you bend over for everyone just to spite me? Is that why you act like such a slut?"
For a split second, Jaejoong thought that Junsu was about to hit him. Junsu lunged forward and pinned Jaejoong against the table, pushing his shoulders to make him sit. His mouth followed a moment later, and Jaejoong barely registered what was happening before he was being kissed. Junsu bit at his lips, too rough, sucking like he meant to bruise them. He held Jaejoong's head, one hand curled around the nape of his neck, the other firmly gripping his jaw.
Jaejoong whimpered. His hands found Junsu's shoulders and stayed there, unable to commit to shoving him away.
Junsu's tongue pressed against his teeth, asking to deepen the kiss. Jaejoong finally decided what to do with his hands, and he pushed. Junsu stumbled backwards and caught himself on the side table, coffee mugs rattling.
"Jaejoong..."
Jaejoong touched his fingertips to his swollen lips. Without a word, without a glance back at his brother, he left the room.
Jaejoong speed-walked around the corner and started mashing the button for the elevator. It couldn't come fast enough. He paced, and then paced inside the elevator; standing still would have driven him crazy.
He burst into his room, tossing the keycard on the table, and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He called the second number on speed dial and leaned against the wall while it rang, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
A sleepy voice answered, "Hello?"
"Fuck, Min. I need you. I'm so fucking hard!"
Changmin chuckled on the other end. "Figures. I knew you wouldn't last two weeks, hyung."
"I don't want to talk," Jaejoong said. He let himself fall onto the bed with a thwump, and started fighting one-handedly to remove his clothes. "I want you to fuck me, Minnie. I want you to fuck me like you wanna make me bleed."
Changmin suddenly sounded a lot more awake. "Where are you right now?"
"Hotel room. On top of the bed. You still in bed?"
"Fell asleep on the couch. Clothes?"
Jaejoong hissed as he popped the first button of his fly. "Not for long."
"No, leave them on. I wanna take them off myself."
"Fuck, come on, Min," Jaejoong whined, but he moved his hand away from his pants and fisted it into the blankets.
"Oh, Jae," Changmin said. His voice was low. "If you wanna be a little slut, you need to earn it first. What's your mouth doing, other than flapping?"
Jaejoong squeezed his eyes shut, and let himself visualize. He formed a mental picture of Changmin on the couch, reclined with his hands behind his head, cock pressing against the cotton of his boxers. "I'm kissing your stomach," Jaejoong decided. He liked the trail of hair under Changmin's navel that dipped beneath his waistband; he liked how it tickled his chin, and the sound it made, quiet and wet, when he ran his tongue over it. "I've got your waistband between my teeth, and I'm pulling it down."
Jaejoong could hear the snap of elastic on Changmin's end, and a low grunt of approval.
"I'm teasing you," Jaejoong whispered. He imagined Changmin's cock, in all its hard and veiny glory, springing free from his boxers and pointing up to his belly. He'd seen Changmin touch himself before, and knew that he was trailing his fingers over his length, mimicking the feather-light touch of Jaejoong's lips.
"I love the way you look at me when you're sucking my cock," Changmin said. "You fucking love it. I just wanna..." Changmin trailed off, his breath hitching.
"Wanna what?"
"Grab your hair. Right behind your ear, a big handful, and shove your face on my cock. Wanna fuck your mouth."
Jaejoong fisted his free hand into his hair, tugging it taut. "Min, I'm so hard," he moaned.
"Good for you. Open your mouth. Put three fingers in. I want to hear you suck."
With the phone propped between his shoulder and the pillow, Jaejoong put three fingers against his lips. He kissed his fingertips first, and then took them into his mouth up to the first knuckle, and then the second. Changmin groaned, and he opened his mouth and sucked down to the last knuckle, his fingers curling over the back of his tongue.
He drew them out with a lot of slurping, and started to pump his hand. He tightened his hold on his hair, moaning at the burn in his scalp and the sensitive area just below his temples. He bucked his hips into the air, trying for friction that never came.
"Fuck, stop it. That sound is gonna make me cum."
Jaejoong pulled his fingers away from his lips. "Touch me," he whispered, voice hoarse.
"I'm pulling your shirt up. Tweaking your nipple ring. I'm licking it -- wet your fingers, Jae, and twist it around."
Jaejoong did as he was told. He lifted his shirt and trailed his wet fingers up to his nipples. He grabbed his piercing in the tips of his fingers, slicking it up, and twisted it. He moaned into the phone and heard his own voice echoing back to him.
"Undo your pants, Jae, but don't touch your cock."
Jaejoong tugged his jeans over his hips and kicked them off. He tugged hard on his nipple ring again, twisting it between his fingers. He tried to imagine Changmin on top of him, but the image wouldn't come. Instead, there was Junsu -- not the teenager he'd fooled around with, but the Junsu from the conference room, hurt and angry and cussing. Calling Jaejoong a slut.
Hands roaming, Jaejoong touched the places that Junsu did behind his closed eyelids; a feather-light carress over his ribs, a nip on the inside of his hipbone, nails scratching across his chest. He breathed in sharply when he carressed along the insides of his thighs, ticklish, his cock jumping at the touch.
"Fuck, that feels good," Jaejoong whispered.
Changmin was breathing hard. "Lift up your knees. Prep yourself for my cock, Jae. Get your fingers wet again."
Jaejoong closed his eyes and imagined Junsu's fingers prying between his lips, pinching his tongue. He trailed his hand down the length of his torso, letting his cock brush against his wrist as he reached between his legs. He arched his back, curling his tailbone, and prodded the pads of his fingers over his hole.
"Just one finger. Slide it in slow. I wanna hear you beg for it."
It was Junsu's middle finger, not Jaejoong's, slipping inside of him. He pushed easily past the first ring of muscle and clenched around the intrusion. He wanted to be filled, and one finger wasn't enough. Jaejoong pushed in to the third knuckle, arching his finger to brush against his prostate, breath catching in his throat. His index finger was curled just under his ball sac, prodding insistently.
"Fuck, more. I want you to fuck me. Please, Jun--" Jaejoong bit his tongue, but didn't bother correcting himself.
Changmin didn't care. He groaned, deep and low in his throat. "I want you to spread that hole a little more. I want to fuck you so bad."
Jaejoong added a second finger, scissoring his hand as wide as he could, trying to get a burn. He pressed a third inside, hissing through his teeth, and crooked all three fingers upwards. He cried out at the pleasure that wracked through his body, and slowly he began moving his fingers in-and-out. "Fuck me," he whispered.
"Do you have a free hand?" Changmin asked. "Grab your cock with it. Jerk and fuck yourself with your fingers. And don't hold back, Jae. Let me hear the sounds you make."
Jaejoong reached down with shaking fingers to get a grip on his cock. Junsu had always been a little nervous touching Jaejoong's cock, and he stroked tentatively, getting a feel for the slide of Jaejoong's skin before starting to pump his hand. He was a lot more confident of his fingers; he used to love afternoons home alone, when he could get Jaejoong on the bed, knees to his shoulders, and suck and finger his hole until Jaejoong came, gasping and whining, without touching his cock.
Jaejoong mimicked both the unsure rhythm on his cock, a little bit too slow, and the depth of his fingers, working his hole hard. He moaned and started to buck his hips, letting gravity push his fingers deeper. "Oh god," Jaejoong whimpered. "Fuck, Junsu, fuck."
Changmin was jerking off, his breath heaving, and he paused at the name.
Jaejoong bucked against his hand, getting close. He hoped that Changmin would't say anything to break the spell. He could practically feel Junsu between his thighs, squeezing his cock in his hand and fucking him hard. Jaejoong moaned. "Ah, fuck, Su, I'm such a slut."
"You are," Changmin whispered. He started moving his hand again, the tell-tale slapping sound in the background.
Jaejoong lifted one leg higher, and suddenly he could plunge his fingers deeper, harder. He hissed, "I'm gonna cum," and his movements became erratic. The phone slipped between the pillows.
He fisted his cock in his hand and jerked it almost painfully, squeezing it from base-to-tip, and with every thrust into his hand he drove his fingers deeper inside of him, twisting and tweaking against his prostate.
He came, moaning his brother's name, his whole body going rigid except for his fingers, still pressing inside of him. Thick ropes of cum shot across his stomach. Jaejoong felt the clench of his hole around his fingers, tight and then loose and then tight again.
He fished his cell phone from behind his head, and when he put it to his ear, Changmin was moaning out his orgasm, "Fuck, hyung, fuck, I'm coming."
They panted into the phone together, catching their breaths. Jaejoong slowly slipped his fingers out of his hole and wiped his hand on the bed.
"I won't ask," Changmin said.
"Thank you."
They panted for another minute, and then Changmin said he should make some breakfast.
"Take care of yourself, hyung, okay?"
Jaejoong nodded, even though Changmin couldn't see it. He hung up.
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