title: Undecided, Undeclared
chapter: oneshot -
30emotions prompt #4: Bewilderment
author: Cross (
xmachina_writes)
rating: R
genre: drama
pairings: Aki/Changmin, implied MaoxAki
warnings: light sh-ai
disclaimer: Not mine, no profits being made
summary: How quickly we tumble down the rabbit's hole, even if only for a fleeting moment.
notes: Sequel/continuation of
Best Laid Plans. Sorry there's no porn. I'm bad at that. :p
Changmin made his way from karaoke bar to hotel without incident, thanks to a cab hailed just outside the bar. He hadn't been all that tired when he'd first climbed into the back of the taxi, but by the time he reached the hotel he had definitely been lulled back into a near-slumbering state. He just wasn't getting enough sleep, that was all there was to it, but he couldn't say he was surprised. The new album, the cascade of new singles and video shootings, the magazine interviews and photoshoots, all the performances.... Sometimes he thought it was a miracle none of them had keeled over in exhaustion yet.
“I think you should file a complaint with that cab company, Changmin-kun.”
Changmin blinked stupidly at the only other person standing in the hotel lobby.
“I've been waiting here for five minutes, now. I was beginning to wonder if something had gone horribly wrong or some such.”
“Mao-san....”
“But since you seem to be all in one piece, if not terribly alert, I suppose we should just be happy you made it back here safely?”
“We?” he parroted, feeling unaccustomedly stupid.
“Poor thing,” Mao crooned, petting his cheek (when had he gotten so close?). “You really have been working entirely too hard, haven't you? I didn't believe it before, but now I'm beginning to think I have no choice. Shame.”
“Sh-shame? Eh?”
“Mm. Say 'goodnight, Mao-kun'.”
“Goodnight, Mao-kun,” he echoed without thought, letting himself be turned towards the elevators and pushed forward. Sleep, he needed sleep. Maybe afterwards, the world would make sense again.
A nice thought that went up in smoke when he felt himself being pressed against the back of the elevator, gloved fingers dragging his head down to a kissable level. A kiss that involved tongue and steel and wet heat and the press of a lithe body against his own. The pierced tongue pushed past his own unresisting lips and there was something deliciously sinful about the feel of that captive ball rubbing against his own tongue. The elevator dinged and his assailant stepped back to reveal himself as Aki, a devilish smile curving his lips.
“Still tired, Changmin-kun?”
“A-aki-san.... Wha-what ... why ... I don't ...,” Changmin sputtered. What was going on? Why had Aki practically mauled him? He wasn't exactly protesting - he wasn't stupid and certainly he'd been getting something out of kissing Aki - but it didn't make sense. Where was the logic in this?
“Your floor, Min-kun. Or is this your way of saying I should take you back to my room?” the bassist asked, still with that lascivious smirk. So irrational. Why was any of this happening? And to him of all people? Maybe he was already asleep and this was all a dream?
The doors closed, the elevator started moving again. Aki had been right, that had been his floor. He should have gotten out and gone to his room. Why was he still standing here?
Ah right, because Aki had been saying things like they should go to his room, and looking at him with those smokey, lust-filled eyes. And standing close and there were fingers teasing under his shirt, when had that happened? When was the last time he'd let someone this close? They were watched so much of the time and the women on the label were, of course, strictly forbidden. A quick jerk in the night didn't count, which left ... not very much at all.
The ding of the elevator interrupted another intense kiss, leaving Changmin almost panting as he followed Aki, tugged along by one hand. He probably should have been resisting, but.... Aki had changed out of stage clothes, toweled off and restyled his hair, but even with the presence of intervening layers, Changmin could still clearly picture partly bared skin covered in a sheen of sweat, the rivulets of water from the MC stunt. That he was being offered a chance to actually touch that body....
Dragged into a room he didn't even get to see, as soon as the door closed, he was being pressed against it and that tongue was demanding the whole of his attention again. He wanted to melt against the door, to slide down it and drag Aki with him. He wanted the other to let him further into the room so they could do this kissing thing laying down, take the height difference out of the equation before he got a serious crink in his neck.
“He was supposed to be going to bed. What is he doing here?”
Mao. Why were they in a hotel room with Mao? What, was the man following him or something? Only following was the wrong word since Mao kept getting there ahead of him. This whole thing was making his brain hurt, particularly with the way Aki had manage to get his shirt off (without his even noticing) and that tongue was doing dangerously arousing things to his chest.
“Answer me, Akihito.”
Changmin could feel the other man shiver slightly, pierced tongue making one last lick up his throat before the bassist was stepping back, pulling away and turning around.
“He didn't get off on his floor,” Aki said, offering the older singer an almost nonchalant shrug. “What was I supposed to think?”
“Perhaps that you were being too much of a whore?”
“He could have walked away at any time. He didn't,” Aki said, another shrug offered. Changmin wasn't sure if he should be trying to escape now or not. There was something about the way Mao was frowning at the both of them from his perch on the bed - the only bed in the room and the way Mao was sitting at the headboard in just a pair of sleep pants, a forgotten book in his lap, suggested he hadn't been expecting any company - that seemed to be keeping his feet rooted in place. Had Mao really left the party early just to make sure Changmin got back to the hotel safely and then go to bed? That didn't seem very reasonable.
“You'll notice he still hasn't left,” Aki drawled. “So if you don't mind, I'm going to fuck him now.”
Changmin was really hating his blush impulse about now; he was certain if he could see himself, his cheeks would be darker than summer apples. How could Aki say such a thing? And why was he just assuming that ... that things were going to be like that? Maybe ... maybe ... he was supposed to be thinking of some reason not to sleep with Aki, but it was hard to think when fingers where caressing his skin and eyes ... those eyes.... Mao was watching them, showing no intent to go anywhere. Aki's mouth was nipping at his spine, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. Why wasn't he waiting for Mao to leave? Why wasn't Mao leaving?
“Right in front of me, just like that?”
“You can always leave if you like,” Aki purred from somewhere close to Changmin's waist and he shivered when he felt the bassist's tongue swiping just beneath the waistline of his pants. “But I know how much you love watching.”
“Yes, but I prefer my sluts on the bed,” Mao replied, his voice also a low, seductive purr that sent a chill down Changmin's spine. The book was cast aside, a devilish smile settling on full lips, still shimmering slightly with gloss. “Are you a slut, Changmin-kun?”
“W-what? No!” he protested, stumbling backwards a step. There was something ... wrong about the amused light in Mao's eyes, something twisted and mean.
“Just another horny teenager anxious to get his rocks off with anyone willing?” Aki suggested, lips moving against the back of his shoulder, labret brushing against his shoulderblade.
“I didn't ... you came on to me!” he sputtered, flailing for something solid to keep him from losing it all to the curl of lust in his belly, the way Aki's mouth felt on his skin. This was ... this was a bad idea, he never should have let it get so far....
“It's all right, Min-kun,” Mao murmured, the devilment gone from his expression, replaced with gentle concern. One hand cupped his softly cheek, thumb briefly ghosting over his lips. “Say 'goodnight, Aki-kun'.”
“Goodnight, Aki-kun,” he repeated, only belatedly realizing that Mao might not have meant it that way.
“Now say 'goodnight, Mao-kun',” the older singer continued with that same soft, almost sad smile.
“Goodnight, Mao-kun.”
“See you in the moring, Min-kun.”
“Aa, in the morning,” he agreed, impulse pushing him to brush a kiss to Mao's cheek before turning around and doing the same thing to Aki. Neither stopped him as he left the room, returned to his own room for the night. He'd sleep and forget about it. Not like it had meant anything, just a willing body to vent some excess energy, he supposed. Better this way, better not to let himself get involved with anyone else'e baggage. He had enough of his own.