Low-life, High-strung (5/12)
Title: Low-life, High-strung (5/12)
Pairing: Everyone/Jaejoong
Length: 2,516w (11,772 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
L O W - L I F E , H I G H - S T R U N G
5.
Yoochun's family wasn't rich, and even though he'd been friends with the Kims since they were gradeschoolers, he still felt a little out of place in their world. His suit itched, his tie was too tight, and he had never acquired the taste for champagne. If it weren't for Junsu insisting that he needed him to be here, Yoochun would have spent the night at his apartment in sweats, drinking cheap beer and writing music he didn't intend to play.
The house itself was too small for a party this size. Instead, the backyard was transformed into an upscale ballroom. The patio was littered with tables and white linen, and a huge tent took up most of the lawn. A stage, crowded with sound equipment, stood at one end of the tent, a lonely microphone at the forefront waiting for stilted speeches. Wait staff in black uniforms flitted between people with trays towered with champagne flutes. The whole place was lit up with artificial candlelight, glowing like a fairy palace.
Yoochun had a glass of champagne for something to hold, and tried not to look like he wanted to be anywhere else. Junsu was comandeered by business associates and relatives, speaking in executive jargon that Yoochun didn't care to learn. He watched from afar as Junsu mingled, the perfect picture of a young executive in his designer suit and charismatic smile.
Junsu caught him looking and waved.
The guests at the party were mostly businessmen and their wives, and relatives of the Kims that Yoochun had met before but didn't know well enough to talk to. Yoochun sipped his drink and wondered if Junsu would be offended -- or even notice -- if he slipped out early.
He glanced over the crowd, looking for the swarm of suits that surrounded Junsu. He caught a glimpse of a shock of blond hair in the sea of black, and did a doubletake. Was that... Jaejoong?
Yoochun watched Junsu pull away from the crowd to give his brother a stiff greeting, half-hug and half-handshake. Jaejoong bowed to the men that Junsu introduced him to, and then excused himself. He grabbed a flute of champagne and gulped most of it back.
Yoochun thought he had seen Jaejoong at the funeral, briefly, but after the ceremony Jaejoong was nowhere to be found. He looked different, a little stressed, coming undone at the seams. Yoochun supposed that was normal; his mother had just died, and Jaejoong had had anything but a conventional relationship with his mother.
Yoochun abandoned his glass on one of the tables and wormed his way through the crowd to where Jaejoong was standing. Jaejoong looked like he was fighting the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to appear rude. The tension was visible in his shoulders. He was looking across the yard and didn't see Yoochun approach until Yoochun was almost right in front of him.
"Jaejoong-ah!"
He turned his head and smiled. Yoochun was relieved to see that the smile hadn't changed since they last saw each other. "Yoochun," he said fondly, "I've missed you."
"Me too."
They hugged, and Jaejoong was all bones, melting into the embrace. He pressed his face into Yoochun's neck and asked, "What are you doing here? You hate this kind of thing."
"Junsu asked me to come," Yoochun said. They pulled apart, holding each other at arms' length. "How have you been, Jae? How's Seoul?"
Jaejoong shrugged. "Keeps me busy."
"You must be famous there. Do people ask for your autograph when you go out?"
Jaejoong snorted into his champagne. "Most people who watch my movies don't want other people knowing that they do. I only get recognized at conventions and that kind of thing." Jaejoong made a face. "Oh gross, don't tell me you're a subscriber."
Yoochun shook his head. "Naw. Why pay when I could get it free?"
Jaejoong punched his shoulder, and Yoochun laughed.
"Not gonna lie, though, I googled you and watched your previews. Never knew you were that flexible. Junsu always said you'd be a good dancer if you tried. Speak of the devil!"
Junsu stepped onto the patio, smiling tiredly. He leaned into Yoochun's shoulder, and Yoochun couldn't decide if he liked the smell of the product in Junsu's hair more or less than the one he usually wore. "It's barely been two hours and I'm already going insane," Junsu complained.
"Poor baby," Yoochun joked. He put an arm around Junsu's waist. "It must be hard being host and guest of honour."
Junsu smiled at Jaejoong. "No chance you want to do my speech for me, huh?"
"No." Jaejoong didn't smile back.
"Well then," Junsu pulled away from Yoochun's arms and stood in front of his brother, arms open, inviting a hug, "wish me luck."
Jaejoong looked around, his glance finding all of the people watching the brothers' reunion out of the corner of their eye. He squeezed his eyes shut before stepping into the embrace, his whole body stiff. The moment Junsu's chin found his shoulder he relaxed, sighing, but he didn't open his eyes.
"Good luck," he said.
Junsu said something into his ear, too low for Yoochun or anyone else to hear, and when he stepped back, turning around to delve into the crowd again, Jaejoong blinked, looking stunned.
"What did he say?" Yoochun wondered.
Jaejoong shook his head to the question, dismissing it. "I need a cigarette. Come on."
He grabbed Yoochun by the wrist and led him across the yard, through the gate at the back, escaping from the hum of the party.
"Did you drive?"
Yoochun pointed down the street. "I parked a few blocks away."
Jaejoong started walking in that direction, shaking his hands at his sides. He pulled a pack of smokes from his pocket and lit one, flicking the lighter more than once before the flame held long enough to catch. He sucked in, cheeks hollowing, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He looked at Yoochun, eyes glimmering under the streetlight and said, "I fucking hate this town."
~
Yoochun hadn't done cocaine since the last time with Jaejoong, five years ago in a club in town just before Jaejoong moved to Japan, but he knew a guy who knew a guy in town. Jaejoong paid for it and then they parked in a gravel parking lot, churning up dust with the tires.
Jaejoong cut with his credit card. He already had a straw, tucked into one of the sleeves in his wallet. He offered the first line to Yoochun.
"You and Junsu have gotten close," Jaejoong said. He had one foot resting on the door, his knee up by his head.
Yoochun pushed his seat back, getting comfy. It had been a long time; his sinuses were burning already. "I guess so," Yoochun said. He watched Jaejoong do a line off the dashboard with practiced ease. "He's not like you. Not really the independant type."
Jaejoong nodded.
"Have you talked to him much?"
"No."
Jaejoong reached over and turned the keys to power the radio. He twisted the dial through several channels of top 40 and static, and then switched to the CD. Yoochun had been listening to dance music on the way over, heavy beat and synth. Jae left it on.
"I knew you guys had a fight or a falling out or something before you left," Yoochun said. He watched Jaejoong's expression carefully. He had his hand hovering over the stereo controls, and he frowned slightly. "Junsu never really went into it, you know? So I didn't ask."
"Are you asking me now?"
Yoochun shrugged. Jaejoong leaned forward mechanically and did another line, sniffling and wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and passed the straw. "I don't know. Would you tell me anything if I did?"
"Probably not."
They settled into a silence. The air outside was chilly, and the windows were fogging up with their body heat, misting over like breath on a mirror. Yoochun could feel the cocaine working through his system, speeding up his pulse. Jaejoong seemed unaffected, resting his chin on one knee, looking away from Yoochun. He was illuminated by a streetlight outside, one entire side of his face cast into dramatic shadow.
"When did you start to like him?" Jaejoong turned his head around. His eyes were red and heavy-lidded, but otherwise he looked sober.
"What?"
Jaejoong mimed Yoochun and Junsu's embrace from the party, hugging his knee and breathing in deeply. "Junsu. How long have you liked him for?"
Yoochun blew his bangs away from his face. No point in lying. "Don't know. Years. I used to like you before I knew better."
He'd said it to be funny, but Jaejoong didn't laugh. He cleared his throat, swallowing heavily. "Have you..." He turned around in the seat to face Yoochun, one hand on the glovebox with a white-knuckled grip. "Have you fucked him?"
Yoochun put his hands up. "Dude, no!"
Jaejoong didn't seem convinced. He had never been a protective older brother; when they were kids, most of the time it seemed like it was the other way around. Junsu, with his louder personality and natural charisma, had been the buffer around his more fragile older brother. It was odd to see him playing the part, bristling at the implication that Yoochun had somehow compromised his little brother's innocence.
"I've wanted to," Yoochun admitted carefully.
"What's stopping you?"
Yoochun shifted around to mimic Jaejoong's pose, leaning against the door with his legs up on the seat. "Junsu says there's someone else."
"Who?"
"Don't know. He's never told me."
Another silence, this one longer and punctuated only by the sound of tires screeching in the distance. They both did another line and sat back, legs touching. Jaejoong looked up through the moon roof, frowning at the stars visible through the light pollution from the city.
"Jaejoong-ah."
He looked down, the crease between his eyes deepening.
"Why did you leave?"
Jaejoong stretched out, bones popping. "Fuck off, Yoochun. It's none of your business." His tone was light, but his words weren't.
"We were best friends, Jae," Yoochun said.
Jaejoong scrambled onto his knees and leaned over the glovebox, his face close to Yoochun's. "You think you know anything?" He hissed. "You think you have a right to know what goes on in my family just because you knew me when I was a kid? That means nothing, Yoochun. It means fuck-all.
"And what a caring person you are," Jaejoong went on. His voice was high and mocking, dripping with sarcasm. "Junsu won't tell you what happened, so why not ask around, see what someone else has to say? You want to know all about it so you can kiss it better?"
Yoochun didn't move. He couldn't.
"Fuck you, Yoochun. Some things don't heal. Some things don't just fucking go away."
Jaejoong sat back, wrapping his arms around himself. He went suddenly quiet, realizing that he'd strayed from the subject.
"If you talked about it..." Yoochun started.
Jaejoong sprang forward, slamming Yoochun's head against the window, one hand clamped firmly over his jaw. "Shut up, Yoochun," he said, "just shut the fuck up." He moved his grip lower to Yoochun's jaw, and then he pressed his lips against Yoochun's, close-mouthed but needy. When Yoochun bent his head into the kiss, Jaejoong let his hands trail down his chest and stomach. He had Yoochun's fly undone with a flick of his wrist. The zipper sounded too loud against the panting of their breaths.
"Jae..."
Jaejoong bent over the glovebox, nestling his head in Yoochun's lap. Yoochun gasped at the first touch of Jaejoong's lips to his cock through the fabric of his boxers, his breath hot through the cotton. He slowly, torturously coaxed Yoochun to hardness, mouthing up and down his length.
Yoochun couldn't help letting out a moan when Jaejoong's hand pulled his boxers aside, freeing his length from the confines of the fabric. Jaejoong didn't mess around; he swallowed Yoochun's cock before the air could even hit it, working his lips down to the base.
Yoochun rested a trembling hand on the back of Jaejoong's head.
Jaejoong sucked up to the tip, and when he pulled away the suction broke off with a sound that was absolutely obscene. "Fuck my face," Jaejoong said, and Yoochun blinked at him for a moment, unsure if he had heard right.
His brain caught up with his ears, and Yoochun threaded his fingers into Jaejoong's hair and gave a lazy thrust upwards, grazing the back of Jaejoong's throat. Jae gagged, but he swallowed around it, pulling back sharply before following the pressure of Yoochun's hand back down until his nose touched Yoochun's belly. His cheeks were hollowed as he bobbed up and down.
Yoochun had never seen anything so sexy in his life. He barely had the presence of mind to feel embarrassed at the orgasm creeping up on him, painfully quick.
"Shit, Jae!"
Jaejoong pulled back at the last second, and Yoochun came across his lips and cheek, his whole body shaking with the force of it. He stared, mouth agape, as Jaejoong sat back slowly, licking the cum from his lips.
Jaejoong leaned back against the door, fumbling with his belt, delving his hands into his pants. Yoochun was frozen, watching, as Jaejoong let his head fall back against the window and began fisting his cock under his trousers, moaning out loud.
"Jae, let me..." Yoochun started to lean across the seat, but Jaejoong put his foot against Yoochun's chest, holding him back.
"Don't fucking touch me," he said. He moaned, back arching, his head falling to his shoulder. His hand was moving fast, and he was whimpering like he was in pain, breathing in fast and moaning on the exhale. He pushed Yoochun back against the driver's side door, holding him there with one leg stretched out.
"Fuck you," Jaejoong whispered. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."
He shifted, tugging his trousers off his hips, exposing his cock, rock hard and pulsing in his hand. He wasn't wearing any underwear. He planted his other leg on the dashboard, scattering the contents of his wallet. The muscles in his legs were straining, tense.
When he came he cried out, lifting off the seat, pumping his hand until he was whimpering, skin twitching, hypersensitive. He wiped his cum on the seat.
Yoochun remembered that he could speak. He should say something. He swallowed. "Jaejoong, what... I mean, uh." What the fuck was that? What the fuck?
Jaejoong shook his head. He pulled his pants back into place, tucking himself in. He collected his wallet off the floor, pocketed the remains of the white powder, and got out of the car.
"I'm going to walk back to the hotel," he said.
Yoochun was about to protest, to offer him a ride, but Jaejoong slammed the door and started walking. He stopped at the edge of the parking lot to light a cigarette, and then disappeared around the corner.
With shaking hands, Yoochun turned the key in the ignition and drove home.
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wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Everyone/Jaejoong
Length: 2,516w (11,772 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
L O W - L I F E , H I G H - S T R U N G
5.
Yoochun's family wasn't rich, and even though he'd been friends with the Kims since they were gradeschoolers, he still felt a little out of place in their world. His suit itched, his tie was too tight, and he had never acquired the taste for champagne. If it weren't for Junsu insisting that he needed him to be here, Yoochun would have spent the night at his apartment in sweats, drinking cheap beer and writing music he didn't intend to play.
The house itself was too small for a party this size. Instead, the backyard was transformed into an upscale ballroom. The patio was littered with tables and white linen, and a huge tent took up most of the lawn. A stage, crowded with sound equipment, stood at one end of the tent, a lonely microphone at the forefront waiting for stilted speeches. Wait staff in black uniforms flitted between people with trays towered with champagne flutes. The whole place was lit up with artificial candlelight, glowing like a fairy palace.
Yoochun had a glass of champagne for something to hold, and tried not to look like he wanted to be anywhere else. Junsu was comandeered by business associates and relatives, speaking in executive jargon that Yoochun didn't care to learn. He watched from afar as Junsu mingled, the perfect picture of a young executive in his designer suit and charismatic smile.
Junsu caught him looking and waved.
The guests at the party were mostly businessmen and their wives, and relatives of the Kims that Yoochun had met before but didn't know well enough to talk to. Yoochun sipped his drink and wondered if Junsu would be offended -- or even notice -- if he slipped out early.
He glanced over the crowd, looking for the swarm of suits that surrounded Junsu. He caught a glimpse of a shock of blond hair in the sea of black, and did a doubletake. Was that... Jaejoong?
Yoochun watched Junsu pull away from the crowd to give his brother a stiff greeting, half-hug and half-handshake. Jaejoong bowed to the men that Junsu introduced him to, and then excused himself. He grabbed a flute of champagne and gulped most of it back.
Yoochun thought he had seen Jaejoong at the funeral, briefly, but after the ceremony Jaejoong was nowhere to be found. He looked different, a little stressed, coming undone at the seams. Yoochun supposed that was normal; his mother had just died, and Jaejoong had had anything but a conventional relationship with his mother.
Yoochun abandoned his glass on one of the tables and wormed his way through the crowd to where Jaejoong was standing. Jaejoong looked like he was fighting the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to appear rude. The tension was visible in his shoulders. He was looking across the yard and didn't see Yoochun approach until Yoochun was almost right in front of him.
"Jaejoong-ah!"
He turned his head and smiled. Yoochun was relieved to see that the smile hadn't changed since they last saw each other. "Yoochun," he said fondly, "I've missed you."
"Me too."
They hugged, and Jaejoong was all bones, melting into the embrace. He pressed his face into Yoochun's neck and asked, "What are you doing here? You hate this kind of thing."
"Junsu asked me to come," Yoochun said. They pulled apart, holding each other at arms' length. "How have you been, Jae? How's Seoul?"
Jaejoong shrugged. "Keeps me busy."
"You must be famous there. Do people ask for your autograph when you go out?"
Jaejoong snorted into his champagne. "Most people who watch my movies don't want other people knowing that they do. I only get recognized at conventions and that kind of thing." Jaejoong made a face. "Oh gross, don't tell me you're a subscriber."
Yoochun shook his head. "Naw. Why pay when I could get it free?"
Jaejoong punched his shoulder, and Yoochun laughed.
"Not gonna lie, though, I googled you and watched your previews. Never knew you were that flexible. Junsu always said you'd be a good dancer if you tried. Speak of the devil!"
Junsu stepped onto the patio, smiling tiredly. He leaned into Yoochun's shoulder, and Yoochun couldn't decide if he liked the smell of the product in Junsu's hair more or less than the one he usually wore. "It's barely been two hours and I'm already going insane," Junsu complained.
"Poor baby," Yoochun joked. He put an arm around Junsu's waist. "It must be hard being host and guest of honour."
Junsu smiled at Jaejoong. "No chance you want to do my speech for me, huh?"
"No." Jaejoong didn't smile back.
"Well then," Junsu pulled away from Yoochun's arms and stood in front of his brother, arms open, inviting a hug, "wish me luck."
Jaejoong looked around, his glance finding all of the people watching the brothers' reunion out of the corner of their eye. He squeezed his eyes shut before stepping into the embrace, his whole body stiff. The moment Junsu's chin found his shoulder he relaxed, sighing, but he didn't open his eyes.
"Good luck," he said.
Junsu said something into his ear, too low for Yoochun or anyone else to hear, and when he stepped back, turning around to delve into the crowd again, Jaejoong blinked, looking stunned.
"What did he say?" Yoochun wondered.
Jaejoong shook his head to the question, dismissing it. "I need a cigarette. Come on."
He grabbed Yoochun by the wrist and led him across the yard, through the gate at the back, escaping from the hum of the party.
"Did you drive?"
Yoochun pointed down the street. "I parked a few blocks away."
Jaejoong started walking in that direction, shaking his hands at his sides. He pulled a pack of smokes from his pocket and lit one, flicking the lighter more than once before the flame held long enough to catch. He sucked in, cheeks hollowing, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He looked at Yoochun, eyes glimmering under the streetlight and said, "I fucking hate this town."
~
Yoochun hadn't done cocaine since the last time with Jaejoong, five years ago in a club in town just before Jaejoong moved to Japan, but he knew a guy who knew a guy in town. Jaejoong paid for it and then they parked in a gravel parking lot, churning up dust with the tires.
Jaejoong cut with his credit card. He already had a straw, tucked into one of the sleeves in his wallet. He offered the first line to Yoochun.
"You and Junsu have gotten close," Jaejoong said. He had one foot resting on the door, his knee up by his head.
Yoochun pushed his seat back, getting comfy. It had been a long time; his sinuses were burning already. "I guess so," Yoochun said. He watched Jaejoong do a line off the dashboard with practiced ease. "He's not like you. Not really the independant type."
Jaejoong nodded.
"Have you talked to him much?"
"No."
Jaejoong reached over and turned the keys to power the radio. He twisted the dial through several channels of top 40 and static, and then switched to the CD. Yoochun had been listening to dance music on the way over, heavy beat and synth. Jae left it on.
"I knew you guys had a fight or a falling out or something before you left," Yoochun said. He watched Jaejoong's expression carefully. He had his hand hovering over the stereo controls, and he frowned slightly. "Junsu never really went into it, you know? So I didn't ask."
"Are you asking me now?"
Yoochun shrugged. Jaejoong leaned forward mechanically and did another line, sniffling and wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and passed the straw. "I don't know. Would you tell me anything if I did?"
"Probably not."
They settled into a silence. The air outside was chilly, and the windows were fogging up with their body heat, misting over like breath on a mirror. Yoochun could feel the cocaine working through his system, speeding up his pulse. Jaejoong seemed unaffected, resting his chin on one knee, looking away from Yoochun. He was illuminated by a streetlight outside, one entire side of his face cast into dramatic shadow.
"When did you start to like him?" Jaejoong turned his head around. His eyes were red and heavy-lidded, but otherwise he looked sober.
"What?"
Jaejoong mimed Yoochun and Junsu's embrace from the party, hugging his knee and breathing in deeply. "Junsu. How long have you liked him for?"
Yoochun blew his bangs away from his face. No point in lying. "Don't know. Years. I used to like you before I knew better."
He'd said it to be funny, but Jaejoong didn't laugh. He cleared his throat, swallowing heavily. "Have you..." He turned around in the seat to face Yoochun, one hand on the glovebox with a white-knuckled grip. "Have you fucked him?"
Yoochun put his hands up. "Dude, no!"
Jaejoong didn't seem convinced. He had never been a protective older brother; when they were kids, most of the time it seemed like it was the other way around. Junsu, with his louder personality and natural charisma, had been the buffer around his more fragile older brother. It was odd to see him playing the part, bristling at the implication that Yoochun had somehow compromised his little brother's innocence.
"I've wanted to," Yoochun admitted carefully.
"What's stopping you?"
Yoochun shifted around to mimic Jaejoong's pose, leaning against the door with his legs up on the seat. "Junsu says there's someone else."
"Who?"
"Don't know. He's never told me."
Another silence, this one longer and punctuated only by the sound of tires screeching in the distance. They both did another line and sat back, legs touching. Jaejoong looked up through the moon roof, frowning at the stars visible through the light pollution from the city.
"Jaejoong-ah."
He looked down, the crease between his eyes deepening.
"Why did you leave?"
Jaejoong stretched out, bones popping. "Fuck off, Yoochun. It's none of your business." His tone was light, but his words weren't.
"We were best friends, Jae," Yoochun said.
Jaejoong scrambled onto his knees and leaned over the glovebox, his face close to Yoochun's. "You think you know anything?" He hissed. "You think you have a right to know what goes on in my family just because you knew me when I was a kid? That means nothing, Yoochun. It means fuck-all.
"And what a caring person you are," Jaejoong went on. His voice was high and mocking, dripping with sarcasm. "Junsu won't tell you what happened, so why not ask around, see what someone else has to say? You want to know all about it so you can kiss it better?"
Yoochun didn't move. He couldn't.
"Fuck you, Yoochun. Some things don't heal. Some things don't just fucking go away."
Jaejoong sat back, wrapping his arms around himself. He went suddenly quiet, realizing that he'd strayed from the subject.
"If you talked about it..." Yoochun started.
Jaejoong sprang forward, slamming Yoochun's head against the window, one hand clamped firmly over his jaw. "Shut up, Yoochun," he said, "just shut the fuck up." He moved his grip lower to Yoochun's jaw, and then he pressed his lips against Yoochun's, close-mouthed but needy. When Yoochun bent his head into the kiss, Jaejoong let his hands trail down his chest and stomach. He had Yoochun's fly undone with a flick of his wrist. The zipper sounded too loud against the panting of their breaths.
"Jae..."
Jaejoong bent over the glovebox, nestling his head in Yoochun's lap. Yoochun gasped at the first touch of Jaejoong's lips to his cock through the fabric of his boxers, his breath hot through the cotton. He slowly, torturously coaxed Yoochun to hardness, mouthing up and down his length.
Yoochun couldn't help letting out a moan when Jaejoong's hand pulled his boxers aside, freeing his length from the confines of the fabric. Jaejoong didn't mess around; he swallowed Yoochun's cock before the air could even hit it, working his lips down to the base.
Yoochun rested a trembling hand on the back of Jaejoong's head.
Jaejoong sucked up to the tip, and when he pulled away the suction broke off with a sound that was absolutely obscene. "Fuck my face," Jaejoong said, and Yoochun blinked at him for a moment, unsure if he had heard right.
His brain caught up with his ears, and Yoochun threaded his fingers into Jaejoong's hair and gave a lazy thrust upwards, grazing the back of Jaejoong's throat. Jae gagged, but he swallowed around it, pulling back sharply before following the pressure of Yoochun's hand back down until his nose touched Yoochun's belly. His cheeks were hollowed as he bobbed up and down.
Yoochun had never seen anything so sexy in his life. He barely had the presence of mind to feel embarrassed at the orgasm creeping up on him, painfully quick.
"Shit, Jae!"
Jaejoong pulled back at the last second, and Yoochun came across his lips and cheek, his whole body shaking with the force of it. He stared, mouth agape, as Jaejoong sat back slowly, licking the cum from his lips.
Jaejoong leaned back against the door, fumbling with his belt, delving his hands into his pants. Yoochun was frozen, watching, as Jaejoong let his head fall back against the window and began fisting his cock under his trousers, moaning out loud.
"Jae, let me..." Yoochun started to lean across the seat, but Jaejoong put his foot against Yoochun's chest, holding him back.
"Don't fucking touch me," he said. He moaned, back arching, his head falling to his shoulder. His hand was moving fast, and he was whimpering like he was in pain, breathing in fast and moaning on the exhale. He pushed Yoochun back against the driver's side door, holding him there with one leg stretched out.
"Fuck you," Jaejoong whispered. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."
He shifted, tugging his trousers off his hips, exposing his cock, rock hard and pulsing in his hand. He wasn't wearing any underwear. He planted his other leg on the dashboard, scattering the contents of his wallet. The muscles in his legs were straining, tense.
When he came he cried out, lifting off the seat, pumping his hand until he was whimpering, skin twitching, hypersensitive. He wiped his cum on the seat.
Yoochun remembered that he could speak. He should say something. He swallowed. "Jaejoong, what... I mean, uh." What the fuck was that? What the fuck?
Jaejoong shook his head. He pulled his pants back into place, tucking himself in. He collected his wallet off the floor, pocketed the remains of the white powder, and got out of the car.
"I'm going to walk back to the hotel," he said.
Yoochun was about to protest, to offer him a ride, but Jaejoong slammed the door and started walking. He stopped at the edge of the parking lot to light a cigarette, and then disappeared around the corner.
With shaking hands, Yoochun turned the key in the ignition and drove home.
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