[fic] Don't open your eyes until I count to seven
Title: Don't open your eyes until I count to seven
Pairing(s): JaeHo
Length: One-shot
Word count: 3900~
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Jae tops. (And I still feel silly for putting this in the warnings, but you never know.)
Notes: I'm back to posting after months of absence, and apparently my writing skills didn't take them very well. To my defense I can only say that this was written in-between one study session and another, as a way to cheer myself up with jaeho porn. XD
The original idea for this fic belongs to machine_of_july. Yunho's 9095 fancams contributed a lot too, and this fanart gave me the final kick. :D So I guess this is dedicated to Jewell, since she is 2/3 responsible for this fail. :)
The title is taken from a translation (not mine) of 9095's lyrics.
~*~
“Jaejoong, we need to talk about last night's concert,” Yunho announced sternly, marching into the living room and stopping in front of the other man, who was lazing about on the couch and flipping through TV channels with a bored expression on his face.
Jaejoong yawned and pulled himself up from his slouching position; he craned his neck to look up at Yunho questioningly, running a hand through his tousled hair.
“What about it?”
“Our choreographer said you seemed a little... distracted, at some point. Some of our back-up dancers noticed it too, apparently.”
Jaejoong looked suspiciously shifty. “This is about 9095, isn't it?” he said, after a long pause.
Yunho didn't miss his expression, halfway between sheepish and guilty, and nodded.
“How am I supposed not to get distracted when you dance like that?” the lead singer pouted, crossing his arms against his chest defensively. “Even the audience sounded like they wanted to jump on stage and molest you!”
“Don't say that about our fans! They're young and...”
“... definitely not innocent, if that's what you were about to say. And you're forgetting our older fans. I bet they were fantasizing about tying you up to a stripper pole and having their wicked way with y-”
“Enough,” Yunho cut him off tersely. Jaejoong had to hide a cackle behind his hand. “And this is beside the point. The point being that you need to stop stealing glances at me and messing up on your own performance!”
“Stealing glances? I call that 'ogling shamelessly', hyung,” Yoochun said in a casual tone, passing them by with two steaming bowls of instant ramen balanced on a tray. He disappeared down the corridor, leaving two stunned hyungdeul behind. Yunho and Jaejoong looked at each other in perfect silence, until Jaejoong erupted into another fit of giggles and Yunho smacked his shoulder hard.
“Guess I'm pretty obvious, then,” the lead singer said between guffaws, unable to stifle his mirth. Yunho didn't seem equally amused, but his scowl just made Jaejoong laugh harder.
“And I hope you intend to do something about it?” Yunho inquired politely.
“I can't help it, okay? If only you didn't look like you were trying to hump the mic...”
“I don't look like that!”
Jaejoong raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You should take a look at the fancams, then. Everybody's going crazy over them.”
“... well, I wasn't the one who came up with that choreography, okay? And besides,” Yunho continued, pointing an accusing finger to Jaejoong's chest, “we're all supposed to dance like that.”
“You're the only one who can pull off the gay stripper look so naturally, though,” Jaejoong commented airily, ignoring Yunho's vehement protests.
“In any case, I can't do anything about it, so keep your dick inside your pants,” the younger man said with all the dignity he could muster. He had to duck his head to hide his burning cheeks, though, and thus missed the wicked gleam in Jaejoong's eyes.
“Maybe there is something you can do, after all,” Jaejoong crooned, stalking towards Yunho like a cat with a mouse.
Yunho gulped and sought for an escape route, but he was cornered and the door was too far, leaving him with no chance of running to Changmin's room and begging his dongsaeng to hide him from Jaejoong's machinations.
Jaejoong leaned gainst him, caressing his ear with a deceptively soft kiss. He whispered something, and Yunho's eyes widened in shock.
“You want me to... what?! No way!”
“But Yunhooooo,” Jaejoong whined, “it would be so hot. You would be so hot!”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Yunho replied curtly. Jaejoong's gaze turned from pleading to sly.
“I bet you don't have the guts to do it, uh?” he commented off-handedly, and watched with satisfaction as Yunho's face took that “take-back-what-you-just-said-or-else” kind of expression that meant he was ready to win a challenge or die trying.
“Wait and see,” Yunho said, chin held up high.
Jaejoong smiled to himself. It was always so easy.
~*~*~*~
For the next two weeks Yunho spent unusual amounts of time online, slamming his laptop shut and shooting dirty looks at everyone who tried to creep up on him, and the rest of his very limited free time practicing by himself after the group was done with the regular dance practice. Every now and then he disappeared mysteriously, coming back only hours later looking uncharacteristically flustered.
By the beginning of the third week Junsu, Yoochun and Changmin were holding a strategical meeting in Junsu's bedroom like a group of conspirators.
“Do you think they fought with each other?” Junsu said, worried.
“Nah, Jaejoong hyung always drags me out to drink and proceeds to talk my ear off about it, when it happens,” Yoochun replied.
“Maybe he didn't tell you, this one time,” Changmin suggested. “All that time online... I bet Yunho hyung has taken to watching porn out of sexual frustration.”
“You'd be the one to know,” Junsu snickered. Changmin threw him a scathing look and tried to kick him, but Junsu avoided the blow with the ease coming from a long practice.
“I was a hormonal teenager, back then,” the youngest retorted, pointedly ignoring Yoochun who was leering at him and mouthing but you still are. “And we're going off topic.”
“Okay, so... what if Yunho hyung is seeing someone else?” Yoochun whispered, voicing everybody's thoughts.
“But Jaejoong hyung hasn't shown any sign of being suspicious or jealous,” Changmin objected. “You know how possessive he can be, and he's scarily perceptive when it comes to Yunho.”
The other two nodded.
“What if they broke up and didn't tell us?!” Junsu whispered with a horrified expression. They all exchanged worried looks. It couldn't be, could it?
It was time for an in-depth investigation of the matter.
----
Jaejoong was clearing away the remains of their take-out dinner when the door burst open and an obviously unwilling Junsu was shoved inside by two pair of hands. The door slammed shut behind him right after, cutting off his only escape route.
Jaejoong stood in the middle of the room, one plastic cup in each hand, and stared bemusedly at his dongsaeng.
Junsu fidgeted.
“I, uh, wanted to ask you something, Jaejoong hyung.”
“Sure, shoot.”
“How, well... how are things between you and Yunho hyung? I mean, you're still together, right?”
Jaejoong's surprised expression melted into an amused smile.
“Of course we are still together! And yeah, we're good.”
Junsu fidgeted some more.
“Are you sure? Like, really sure?”
Jaejoong nodded, giving Junsu a slightly puzzled look, and at the sight of his calm smile the younger man wasn't able to hold back anymore.
“What's wrong with Yunho hyung, then? He keeps acting weird and disappearing!” he blurted out.
From behind the closed door came a shuffling sound and a muffled 'That idiot, how was that supposed to be subtle?', followed by a 'Shhhh, they can hear you!'
“Who are you calling 'idiot'?” Junsu shouted, forgetting subtlety altogether. Jaejoong started laughing so hard that he had to put everything he was holding back on the table before it was too late.
“Me and Yunho are fine, don't worry,” Jaejoong said when he finally managed to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath, “we have a sort of... bet going on, so I guess he's practicing for it. You can tell this to the ones behind the door, too.”
“What kind of bet?” Junsu asked curiously. He hadn't missed the wicked glint in Jaejoong's eyes.
“It's a se~cret,” Jaejoong sing-songed, sticking out his tongue mischievously, and not even Junsu's pout and pleading eyes managed to make him spill the beans.
~*~*~*~
The taxi pulled over in front of a nightclub, one of the many nestled into the night-loving heart of Roppongi. Jaejoong had never been there before, but all he'd needed to do was show the driver the address Yunho had texted him and wait for the man to find his way through the tangle that was Tokyo's evening traffic.
He thanked whatever deity had possessed him to take greater care than usual in disguising himself; they all felt far more relaxed about going out undisguised in Japan than Korea, but a mere glance at the club told him that it wasn't exactly the best place for a Tohoshinki member to be spotted.
The crowd of night-goers swarmed towards the tantalizing signs that littered the street like mini neon constellations - clubs, bars, discos - but nobody seemed to be getting into the club Jaejoong was headed to; puzzled, he wondered if it really was the right one, until a quick check of Yunho's message told him that it was, indeed.
The bouncer took longer than usual to inspect his ID, but he eventually gave it back with a polite bow and a lopsided smile.
“I believe the club is reserved to you tonight, sir,” he said.
Jaejoong's eyes went wide behind his Gucci shades. 'Wow, Yunho,' he thought, thoroughly impressed. He wasn't really expecting Yunho to follow his suggestion and go as far as to rent a whole club for themselves, but once again his boyfriend had exceeded expectations.
He grinned devilishly. He had a feeling this was going to be a night to remember.
-----
The only other person in the club was the lone barman idly polishing cocktail glasses behind the counter; he looked up when Jaejoong entered, his face streaked blue and purple from the dim club lights, and greeted him with a nod. Jaejoong studied at his surroundings curiously, his gaze wandering across the sleek lines of the interior to the empty stage in the middle.
“Sir, would you like a drink? I have instructions to leave you alone in a few minutes,” the barman said. His voice was soft, but in the empty room it sounded oddly loud, bouncing off the cream colored walls in waves of sound that blended with the light jazzy music in the background.
Jaejoong nodded and stared with fascination at the man's hands while they prepared his Brandy Sour with practiced ease, wondering if he was supposed to try and make some conversation. Apparently there was no need to, because as soon as the glass was deposited in front of him the barman glanced at his watch and made a vague gesture towards the stage.
“Please sit down in the front row,” he said, with another polite little bow. “And enjoy yourself,” he added, and Jaejoong wasn't able to tell if he was actually smirking behind that impersonal mask of his or if it was just the play of the lights on his face.
-----
It felt odd to be alone in a club - not that he had the chance to go clubbing often, but he liked the fast, easy excitement of thumping music and sweaty bodies dancing dangerously close, the shreds of conversations whispered by a hot mouth against his ear.
This night, on the other hand, the atmosphere was almost intimate, silky like the music playing in the background and sultry with unspoken promises; his gaze lingered on the polished metal surface of the pole in the middle of the stage, and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine.
He twirled the stem of the cocktail glass between his fingers, taking a sip every now and then; the taste was pleasantly sour and flowed smoothly down his throat, but his mind was elsewhere, his eyes focused on the black velvet curtain at the other end of the long and narrow stage. He was growing impatient with curiosity, like a child waiting to open his presents on Christmas morning: the only difference being that he was positive this one present wouldn't disappoint him.
Suddenly the lights all around him dimmed, leaving just a spotlight shining down on the stage. The music changed too, from smooth and relaxing to darker, sensual and enticing, with a powerful beat pulsing underneath it like a trapped beast. Jaejoong held his breath in anticipation.
When Yunho pushed aside the curtain and stepped on the stage he nearly cried out in surprise, only to have the words die down in his suddenly too-dry throat a second later.
Yunho was wearing a suit. A fucking suit. And maybe someone could've called Jaejoong conservative because suits were his outfit of choice when it came to sexual fantasies, but the thing was, the most arousing sight after a naked Yunho was Yunho in a suit.
A black, perfectly tailored suit that did nothing but emphasize his lithe form and his aura of confidence as he strode along the stage and stopped in front of Jaejoong.
Their eyes met, locked. A cocky grin appeared on Yunho's lips, obviously pleased by Jaejoong's stunned silence. It took Jaejoong a generous sip of his cocktail to get his voice back.
“I've been told to enjoy the show,” He finally said, hoping to sound casual enough, “I hope you'll live up to my expectations.”
“If I don't, I'll find a way to make it up to you,” Yunho replied, without missing a beat. “But I'm sure you won't be disappointed.”
“Any rules?” Jaejoong inquired.
“Just one: you can look but you can't touch,” Yunho grinned. Jaejoong whimpered inside and considered asking him to tie his hands to the chair, but the other was already starting to dance, slowly at first, then sliding smoothly into the right tempo as soon as his body became attuned to the music.
It was a side of Yunho Jaejoong knew well - the way he blended to the beat and made it his, letting his body take control and move on his own accord instead of just remembering a sequence of dance steps. It was something that Jaejoong had never been able to do, and watching Yunho always fascinated him, from the smooth twists of his body to the look of absolute concentration in his eyes; but that night he was dancing for Jaejoong and Jaejoong only, and he was all fluid motion and grace and dark glances, perfectly conscious and in control of every movement of his body - and of its effects on the man watching him.
Jaejoong couldn't take his eyes off the swaying hips in front of him, so close that he could've outstretched his hand and touched them. He bit his lips and crossed his hands on his lap defiantly, and Yunho smirked in the purple and blue darkness and started playing with the buttons of his jacket. For each button that slid out of its eyelet he rolled his body in one fluid motion, and only when the garment fell in a black heap at Jaejoong's feet did the lead singer let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
A leather belt joined the jacket moments after, but not before Yunho cracked it hard against the floor like a whip, once, twice, with such a naughty smirk on his face that Jaejoong squirmed in his seat and had to fight the urge to unzip his suddenly too-tight pants.
He felt like he was about to explode at any minute, and Yunho had barely gotten started.
The dancer tugged his white shirt out, giving Jaejoong a fleeting glimpse of toned stomach before letting it go in favor of playing with his crimson tie, loosening it just enough to allow him to start working his way down his shirt's buttons.
Jaejoong's eyes followed Yunho's fingers with ravenous anticipation, reveling in each inch of revealed skin; it was like he'd never seen Yunho take off his shirt in front of him before, each inch of his body like uncharted territory he yearned to touch, kiss, taste.
Yunho seemed perfectly conscious of the kind of feelings he was arousing, and acted accordingly; he turned around so that his back was to Jaejoong, and as he looked back at him with a come-hither smile, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in one fluid motion. It ran off him like water, and Jaejoong gaped at the expanse of naked back, glistening with sweat over the powerful ripple of muscles.
“That should be illegal,” he muttered when Yunho started rubbing his chest against the pole with wanton abandon, teasing Jaejoong with each twist of his body. His hand gripped the pole high above his head and then he let himself slide down smoothly, until his ass nearly touched the stage; an involuntary moan escaped Jaejoong's throat at the sight of long, perfect fingers wrapped around the pole and sliding down its hard length.
“Yunho,” he groaned hoarsely. Yunho turned around so he could stare right into Jaejoong's eyes, with the pole standing between them like a barrier, and tossed his head back, never breaking eye contact; Jaejoong could still see his hooded eyes trained on him, and the wicked grin on his lips when Yunho sucked a finger into his mouth and then drew it out, slowly, and slowly he slid it down the arch of his neck and across his collarbone and chest, flicking a dark nipple teasingly as it made its way down the smooth expanse of his stomach.
A careless hand movement and the fly of his pants came undone, revealing black silk and hard flesh. Yunho started inching his pants down, baring his thighs with torturous slowness, and Jaejoong gripped the armrests of his chair so tight that his nails printed crescents into the blue leather, because otherwise he knew he would have jumped on stage and pounced on him.
His lover's nearly naked body looked glorious, strong and pliant all at once in the contrast of tender flesh and gleaming metal, hard muscles and sensual moves. Jaejoong had never been so turned on in his whole life; he realized he'd jumped to his feet and was gripping the edge of the stage like his life depended on it only when he followed the direction of Yunho's triumphant glance.
The movements of the dancer's body were growing more and more sexual, following the increasing tempo of the music. The heavy beat thumped in unison with Jaejoong's accelerated heartbeat and with Yunho's hips humping the pole and swaying around it, hard and fast, raw, primal.
The music ended abruptly, with Yunho kneeling on the floor with the pole squeezed between his thighs, and suddenly the air was echoing with just his and Jaejoong's gasping breaths, throbbing with unreleased tension.
Yunho raised his head slowly and licked his lips, his eyes locking with Jaejoong once again. There was a wild light inside them, brimming with raw desire and unbridled lust, and Jaejoong was already crawling on the stage even before Yunho stretched out his hand towards him in a voiceless invitation.
They tumbled down in a tangle of limbs, desperate and aching for each other's touch; there was nothing sweet and gentle in the hard meshing of lips and tongue, in the ungraceful mess of hands gripping flesh and ripping clothes off, but neither of them could've cared less, at that point. Jaejoong's fingers sank into the firm flesh of Yunho's ass and Yunho's hand fisted around Jaejoong's cock, his breath hot and ragged against the lead singer's ear.
“Fuck, you better have brought lube,” he growled, and Jaejoong nodded and felt around in his pocket ‘til he found the small sample of lube he'd been provident enough to bring - nearly dropping it when Yunho dragged his teeth across his neck and bit down on his shoulder.
“I have this,” he gasped, waving the packet in front of Yunho's face, “think it'll be enough?”
“Guess so,” the other replied with a cheeky smirk, that promply twisted into a soundless 'oh' of pleasure when Jaejoong scraped his blunt fingernails across a brown nipple. “Unless you're - ah! - planning to do more - fuck yes, keep doing that - rounds, that is.”
It was Jaejoong's turn to smirk, even if the way Yunho was moving above him, like they were fucking already, was driving him crazy.
“I think we should finish this one first.”
He tore the packet open with his teeth and smeared the slippery substance on his fingers, uncaring of the mess he was making on his half-open shirt. Yunho was already straddling him and grinding their erections together, so Jaejoong just reached behind him and thrust a lubed finger inside roughly, tearing a half-surprised, half-encouraging mewl from Yunho's throat.
“God, yes, yes,” he kept repeating like a mantra, rolling his hips around Jaejoong's fingers, forcing them to go deeper, faster. No time for taking it slow, no time for gentleness and soft coaxing, his whole body seemed to say, and Jaejoong gave in to him, to the scent of sex and readiness that scorched his senses like wildfire.
He slid inside Yunho with barely restrained relief, forcing himself to go slow despite his body's strain to ram inside that welcoming warmth in one thrust, even if the expression on Yunho's face told him he was too far gone to even notice the pain.
“You okay?” he couldn't help but whisper.
Yunho's eyes focused on him, wild and lost, but Jaejoong knew they weren't really seeing him. He shifted his weight, adjusting his position around Jaejoong, and the movement elicited little needy whimpers from them both.
“Move,” Yunho growled through gritted teeth, grabbing fistfuls of Jaejoong's much abused shirt for better leverage and thrusting down until Jaejoong was balls-deep inside him. “Just. Fucking. Move.”
Jaejoong didn't need further encouragement. Their coupling was fast and dirty and littered with shouted profanities and uneven cries, and he knew neither of them would've lasted long, not this time. The pleasure was so intense it verged on unbearable, blurring the line between bliss and pain, narrowing his focus until it included nothing else but the sweaty body riding him at a frenzied pace.
He latched his arms around Yunho's neck and yanked him down for a bruising kiss; heat coiled in his groin and clouded his mind, and then Yunho did something with his inner muscles that made them both cry out at the same time, and it was like plunging down a rollercoaster, exhilarating and impossible to stop, like falling and flying at the same time, indescribable and perfect.
-----
Jaejoong stared at the dark ceiling above him for a long while, not quite trusting his voice yet, content with just holding Yunho's still trembling body against his chest.
“That was... that was...” he finally managed to say, struggling to find the right word and then deciding that simply there wasn't one.
Yunho made a muffled sound of agreement from against Jaejoong's shoulder, where he'd collapsed earlier, not even attempting to move. Jaejoong carded his fingers tenderly through his damp hair, and was rewarded with a brilliant, sated smile.
“So I win the bet?” Yunho said, eyes lighting up. Jaejoong stared at him in mild disbelief for a second and then started laughing, shaking his head.
“I can't believe this is the first thing you say after having mindblowing sex,” he complained in a mock-suffering voice, pinching Yunho's backside playfully. Yunho looked disgustingly pleased with himself, and it made Jaejoong want to kiss him senseless just to wipe the smug smirk off his face.
“But yeah, you win,” he admitted, “and I do hope I'll get a repeat in the near future.”
The image of Yunho riding him, drenched in sweat and blue light, flashed in front of his eyes, and to his surprise he felt his cock stir inside Yunho's body again, so soon. Yunho had felt it too, because he was looking at Jaejoong with hooded, smoldering eyes.
“Maybe we’re up for another round, after all,” he said, and kissed Jaejoong again, fiercely.
.End
Note 1: Comments are much appreciated :)
Note 2: I have no clue why some of the text randomly shows in a darker color than the rest. If somebody knows how to fix that, please let me know!
Pairing(s): JaeHo
Length: One-shot
Word count: 3900~
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Jae tops. (And I still feel silly for putting this in the warnings, but you never know.)
Notes: I'm back to posting after months of absence, and apparently my writing skills didn't take them very well. To my defense I can only say that this was written in-between one study session and another, as a way to cheer myself up with jaeho porn. XD
The original idea for this fic belongs to machine_of_july. Yunho's 9095 fancams contributed a lot too, and this fanart gave me the final kick. :D So I guess this is dedicated to Jewell, since she is 2/3 responsible for this fail. :)
The title is taken from a translation (not mine) of 9095's lyrics.
~*~
“Jaejoong, we need to talk about last night's concert,” Yunho announced sternly, marching into the living room and stopping in front of the other man, who was lazing about on the couch and flipping through TV channels with a bored expression on his face.
Jaejoong yawned and pulled himself up from his slouching position; he craned his neck to look up at Yunho questioningly, running a hand through his tousled hair.
“What about it?”
“Our choreographer said you seemed a little... distracted, at some point. Some of our back-up dancers noticed it too, apparently.”
Jaejoong looked suspiciously shifty. “This is about 9095, isn't it?” he said, after a long pause.
Yunho didn't miss his expression, halfway between sheepish and guilty, and nodded.
“How am I supposed not to get distracted when you dance like that?” the lead singer pouted, crossing his arms against his chest defensively. “Even the audience sounded like they wanted to jump on stage and molest you!”
“Don't say that about our fans! They're young and...”
“... definitely not innocent, if that's what you were about to say. And you're forgetting our older fans. I bet they were fantasizing about tying you up to a stripper pole and having their wicked way with y-”
“Enough,” Yunho cut him off tersely. Jaejoong had to hide a cackle behind his hand. “And this is beside the point. The point being that you need to stop stealing glances at me and messing up on your own performance!”
“Stealing glances? I call that 'ogling shamelessly', hyung,” Yoochun said in a casual tone, passing them by with two steaming bowls of instant ramen balanced on a tray. He disappeared down the corridor, leaving two stunned hyungdeul behind. Yunho and Jaejoong looked at each other in perfect silence, until Jaejoong erupted into another fit of giggles and Yunho smacked his shoulder hard.
“Guess I'm pretty obvious, then,” the lead singer said between guffaws, unable to stifle his mirth. Yunho didn't seem equally amused, but his scowl just made Jaejoong laugh harder.
“And I hope you intend to do something about it?” Yunho inquired politely.
“I can't help it, okay? If only you didn't look like you were trying to hump the mic...”
“I don't look like that!”
Jaejoong raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You should take a look at the fancams, then. Everybody's going crazy over them.”
“... well, I wasn't the one who came up with that choreography, okay? And besides,” Yunho continued, pointing an accusing finger to Jaejoong's chest, “we're all supposed to dance like that.”
“You're the only one who can pull off the gay stripper look so naturally, though,” Jaejoong commented airily, ignoring Yunho's vehement protests.
“In any case, I can't do anything about it, so keep your dick inside your pants,” the younger man said with all the dignity he could muster. He had to duck his head to hide his burning cheeks, though, and thus missed the wicked gleam in Jaejoong's eyes.
“Maybe there is something you can do, after all,” Jaejoong crooned, stalking towards Yunho like a cat with a mouse.
Yunho gulped and sought for an escape route, but he was cornered and the door was too far, leaving him with no chance of running to Changmin's room and begging his dongsaeng to hide him from Jaejoong's machinations.
Jaejoong leaned gainst him, caressing his ear with a deceptively soft kiss. He whispered something, and Yunho's eyes widened in shock.
“You want me to... what?! No way!”
“But Yunhooooo,” Jaejoong whined, “it would be so hot. You would be so hot!”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Yunho replied curtly. Jaejoong's gaze turned from pleading to sly.
“I bet you don't have the guts to do it, uh?” he commented off-handedly, and watched with satisfaction as Yunho's face took that “take-back-what-you-just-said-or-else” kind of expression that meant he was ready to win a challenge or die trying.
“Wait and see,” Yunho said, chin held up high.
Jaejoong smiled to himself. It was always so easy.
~*~*~*~
For the next two weeks Yunho spent unusual amounts of time online, slamming his laptop shut and shooting dirty looks at everyone who tried to creep up on him, and the rest of his very limited free time practicing by himself after the group was done with the regular dance practice. Every now and then he disappeared mysteriously, coming back only hours later looking uncharacteristically flustered.
By the beginning of the third week Junsu, Yoochun and Changmin were holding a strategical meeting in Junsu's bedroom like a group of conspirators.
“Do you think they fought with each other?” Junsu said, worried.
“Nah, Jaejoong hyung always drags me out to drink and proceeds to talk my ear off about it, when it happens,” Yoochun replied.
“Maybe he didn't tell you, this one time,” Changmin suggested. “All that time online... I bet Yunho hyung has taken to watching porn out of sexual frustration.”
“You'd be the one to know,” Junsu snickered. Changmin threw him a scathing look and tried to kick him, but Junsu avoided the blow with the ease coming from a long practice.
“I was a hormonal teenager, back then,” the youngest retorted, pointedly ignoring Yoochun who was leering at him and mouthing but you still are. “And we're going off topic.”
“Okay, so... what if Yunho hyung is seeing someone else?” Yoochun whispered, voicing everybody's thoughts.
“But Jaejoong hyung hasn't shown any sign of being suspicious or jealous,” Changmin objected. “You know how possessive he can be, and he's scarily perceptive when it comes to Yunho.”
The other two nodded.
“What if they broke up and didn't tell us?!” Junsu whispered with a horrified expression. They all exchanged worried looks. It couldn't be, could it?
It was time for an in-depth investigation of the matter.
----
Jaejoong was clearing away the remains of their take-out dinner when the door burst open and an obviously unwilling Junsu was shoved inside by two pair of hands. The door slammed shut behind him right after, cutting off his only escape route.
Jaejoong stood in the middle of the room, one plastic cup in each hand, and stared bemusedly at his dongsaeng.
Junsu fidgeted.
“I, uh, wanted to ask you something, Jaejoong hyung.”
“Sure, shoot.”
“How, well... how are things between you and Yunho hyung? I mean, you're still together, right?”
Jaejoong's surprised expression melted into an amused smile.
“Of course we are still together! And yeah, we're good.”
Junsu fidgeted some more.
“Are you sure? Like, really sure?”
Jaejoong nodded, giving Junsu a slightly puzzled look, and at the sight of his calm smile the younger man wasn't able to hold back anymore.
“What's wrong with Yunho hyung, then? He keeps acting weird and disappearing!” he blurted out.
From behind the closed door came a shuffling sound and a muffled 'That idiot, how was that supposed to be subtle?', followed by a 'Shhhh, they can hear you!'
“Who are you calling 'idiot'?” Junsu shouted, forgetting subtlety altogether. Jaejoong started laughing so hard that he had to put everything he was holding back on the table before it was too late.
“Me and Yunho are fine, don't worry,” Jaejoong said when he finally managed to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath, “we have a sort of... bet going on, so I guess he's practicing for it. You can tell this to the ones behind the door, too.”
“What kind of bet?” Junsu asked curiously. He hadn't missed the wicked glint in Jaejoong's eyes.
“It's a se~cret,” Jaejoong sing-songed, sticking out his tongue mischievously, and not even Junsu's pout and pleading eyes managed to make him spill the beans.
~*~*~*~
The taxi pulled over in front of a nightclub, one of the many nestled into the night-loving heart of Roppongi. Jaejoong had never been there before, but all he'd needed to do was show the driver the address Yunho had texted him and wait for the man to find his way through the tangle that was Tokyo's evening traffic.
He thanked whatever deity had possessed him to take greater care than usual in disguising himself; they all felt far more relaxed about going out undisguised in Japan than Korea, but a mere glance at the club told him that it wasn't exactly the best place for a Tohoshinki member to be spotted.
The crowd of night-goers swarmed towards the tantalizing signs that littered the street like mini neon constellations - clubs, bars, discos - but nobody seemed to be getting into the club Jaejoong was headed to; puzzled, he wondered if it really was the right one, until a quick check of Yunho's message told him that it was, indeed.
The bouncer took longer than usual to inspect his ID, but he eventually gave it back with a polite bow and a lopsided smile.
“I believe the club is reserved to you tonight, sir,” he said.
Jaejoong's eyes went wide behind his Gucci shades. 'Wow, Yunho,' he thought, thoroughly impressed. He wasn't really expecting Yunho to follow his suggestion and go as far as to rent a whole club for themselves, but once again his boyfriend had exceeded expectations.
He grinned devilishly. He had a feeling this was going to be a night to remember.
-----
The only other person in the club was the lone barman idly polishing cocktail glasses behind the counter; he looked up when Jaejoong entered, his face streaked blue and purple from the dim club lights, and greeted him with a nod. Jaejoong studied at his surroundings curiously, his gaze wandering across the sleek lines of the interior to the empty stage in the middle.
“Sir, would you like a drink? I have instructions to leave you alone in a few minutes,” the barman said. His voice was soft, but in the empty room it sounded oddly loud, bouncing off the cream colored walls in waves of sound that blended with the light jazzy music in the background.
Jaejoong nodded and stared with fascination at the man's hands while they prepared his Brandy Sour with practiced ease, wondering if he was supposed to try and make some conversation. Apparently there was no need to, because as soon as the glass was deposited in front of him the barman glanced at his watch and made a vague gesture towards the stage.
“Please sit down in the front row,” he said, with another polite little bow. “And enjoy yourself,” he added, and Jaejoong wasn't able to tell if he was actually smirking behind that impersonal mask of his or if it was just the play of the lights on his face.
-----
It felt odd to be alone in a club - not that he had the chance to go clubbing often, but he liked the fast, easy excitement of thumping music and sweaty bodies dancing dangerously close, the shreds of conversations whispered by a hot mouth against his ear.
This night, on the other hand, the atmosphere was almost intimate, silky like the music playing in the background and sultry with unspoken promises; his gaze lingered on the polished metal surface of the pole in the middle of the stage, and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine.
He twirled the stem of the cocktail glass between his fingers, taking a sip every now and then; the taste was pleasantly sour and flowed smoothly down his throat, but his mind was elsewhere, his eyes focused on the black velvet curtain at the other end of the long and narrow stage. He was growing impatient with curiosity, like a child waiting to open his presents on Christmas morning: the only difference being that he was positive this one present wouldn't disappoint him.
Suddenly the lights all around him dimmed, leaving just a spotlight shining down on the stage. The music changed too, from smooth and relaxing to darker, sensual and enticing, with a powerful beat pulsing underneath it like a trapped beast. Jaejoong held his breath in anticipation.
When Yunho pushed aside the curtain and stepped on the stage he nearly cried out in surprise, only to have the words die down in his suddenly too-dry throat a second later.
Yunho was wearing a suit. A fucking suit. And maybe someone could've called Jaejoong conservative because suits were his outfit of choice when it came to sexual fantasies, but the thing was, the most arousing sight after a naked Yunho was Yunho in a suit.
A black, perfectly tailored suit that did nothing but emphasize his lithe form and his aura of confidence as he strode along the stage and stopped in front of Jaejoong.
Their eyes met, locked. A cocky grin appeared on Yunho's lips, obviously pleased by Jaejoong's stunned silence. It took Jaejoong a generous sip of his cocktail to get his voice back.
“I've been told to enjoy the show,” He finally said, hoping to sound casual enough, “I hope you'll live up to my expectations.”
“If I don't, I'll find a way to make it up to you,” Yunho replied, without missing a beat. “But I'm sure you won't be disappointed.”
“Any rules?” Jaejoong inquired.
“Just one: you can look but you can't touch,” Yunho grinned. Jaejoong whimpered inside and considered asking him to tie his hands to the chair, but the other was already starting to dance, slowly at first, then sliding smoothly into the right tempo as soon as his body became attuned to the music.
It was a side of Yunho Jaejoong knew well - the way he blended to the beat and made it his, letting his body take control and move on his own accord instead of just remembering a sequence of dance steps. It was something that Jaejoong had never been able to do, and watching Yunho always fascinated him, from the smooth twists of his body to the look of absolute concentration in his eyes; but that night he was dancing for Jaejoong and Jaejoong only, and he was all fluid motion and grace and dark glances, perfectly conscious and in control of every movement of his body - and of its effects on the man watching him.
Jaejoong couldn't take his eyes off the swaying hips in front of him, so close that he could've outstretched his hand and touched them. He bit his lips and crossed his hands on his lap defiantly, and Yunho smirked in the purple and blue darkness and started playing with the buttons of his jacket. For each button that slid out of its eyelet he rolled his body in one fluid motion, and only when the garment fell in a black heap at Jaejoong's feet did the lead singer let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
A leather belt joined the jacket moments after, but not before Yunho cracked it hard against the floor like a whip, once, twice, with such a naughty smirk on his face that Jaejoong squirmed in his seat and had to fight the urge to unzip his suddenly too-tight pants.
He felt like he was about to explode at any minute, and Yunho had barely gotten started.
The dancer tugged his white shirt out, giving Jaejoong a fleeting glimpse of toned stomach before letting it go in favor of playing with his crimson tie, loosening it just enough to allow him to start working his way down his shirt's buttons.
Jaejoong's eyes followed Yunho's fingers with ravenous anticipation, reveling in each inch of revealed skin; it was like he'd never seen Yunho take off his shirt in front of him before, each inch of his body like uncharted territory he yearned to touch, kiss, taste.
Yunho seemed perfectly conscious of the kind of feelings he was arousing, and acted accordingly; he turned around so that his back was to Jaejoong, and as he looked back at him with a come-hither smile, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in one fluid motion. It ran off him like water, and Jaejoong gaped at the expanse of naked back, glistening with sweat over the powerful ripple of muscles.
“That should be illegal,” he muttered when Yunho started rubbing his chest against the pole with wanton abandon, teasing Jaejoong with each twist of his body. His hand gripped the pole high above his head and then he let himself slide down smoothly, until his ass nearly touched the stage; an involuntary moan escaped Jaejoong's throat at the sight of long, perfect fingers wrapped around the pole and sliding down its hard length.
“Yunho,” he groaned hoarsely. Yunho turned around so he could stare right into Jaejoong's eyes, with the pole standing between them like a barrier, and tossed his head back, never breaking eye contact; Jaejoong could still see his hooded eyes trained on him, and the wicked grin on his lips when Yunho sucked a finger into his mouth and then drew it out, slowly, and slowly he slid it down the arch of his neck and across his collarbone and chest, flicking a dark nipple teasingly as it made its way down the smooth expanse of his stomach.
A careless hand movement and the fly of his pants came undone, revealing black silk and hard flesh. Yunho started inching his pants down, baring his thighs with torturous slowness, and Jaejoong gripped the armrests of his chair so tight that his nails printed crescents into the blue leather, because otherwise he knew he would have jumped on stage and pounced on him.
His lover's nearly naked body looked glorious, strong and pliant all at once in the contrast of tender flesh and gleaming metal, hard muscles and sensual moves. Jaejoong had never been so turned on in his whole life; he realized he'd jumped to his feet and was gripping the edge of the stage like his life depended on it only when he followed the direction of Yunho's triumphant glance.
The movements of the dancer's body were growing more and more sexual, following the increasing tempo of the music. The heavy beat thumped in unison with Jaejoong's accelerated heartbeat and with Yunho's hips humping the pole and swaying around it, hard and fast, raw, primal.
The music ended abruptly, with Yunho kneeling on the floor with the pole squeezed between his thighs, and suddenly the air was echoing with just his and Jaejoong's gasping breaths, throbbing with unreleased tension.
Yunho raised his head slowly and licked his lips, his eyes locking with Jaejoong once again. There was a wild light inside them, brimming with raw desire and unbridled lust, and Jaejoong was already crawling on the stage even before Yunho stretched out his hand towards him in a voiceless invitation.
They tumbled down in a tangle of limbs, desperate and aching for each other's touch; there was nothing sweet and gentle in the hard meshing of lips and tongue, in the ungraceful mess of hands gripping flesh and ripping clothes off, but neither of them could've cared less, at that point. Jaejoong's fingers sank into the firm flesh of Yunho's ass and Yunho's hand fisted around Jaejoong's cock, his breath hot and ragged against the lead singer's ear.
“Fuck, you better have brought lube,” he growled, and Jaejoong nodded and felt around in his pocket ‘til he found the small sample of lube he'd been provident enough to bring - nearly dropping it when Yunho dragged his teeth across his neck and bit down on his shoulder.
“I have this,” he gasped, waving the packet in front of Yunho's face, “think it'll be enough?”
“Guess so,” the other replied with a cheeky smirk, that promply twisted into a soundless 'oh' of pleasure when Jaejoong scraped his blunt fingernails across a brown nipple. “Unless you're - ah! - planning to do more - fuck yes, keep doing that - rounds, that is.”
It was Jaejoong's turn to smirk, even if the way Yunho was moving above him, like they were fucking already, was driving him crazy.
“I think we should finish this one first.”
He tore the packet open with his teeth and smeared the slippery substance on his fingers, uncaring of the mess he was making on his half-open shirt. Yunho was already straddling him and grinding their erections together, so Jaejoong just reached behind him and thrust a lubed finger inside roughly, tearing a half-surprised, half-encouraging mewl from Yunho's throat.
“God, yes, yes,” he kept repeating like a mantra, rolling his hips around Jaejoong's fingers, forcing them to go deeper, faster. No time for taking it slow, no time for gentleness and soft coaxing, his whole body seemed to say, and Jaejoong gave in to him, to the scent of sex and readiness that scorched his senses like wildfire.
He slid inside Yunho with barely restrained relief, forcing himself to go slow despite his body's strain to ram inside that welcoming warmth in one thrust, even if the expression on Yunho's face told him he was too far gone to even notice the pain.
“You okay?” he couldn't help but whisper.
Yunho's eyes focused on him, wild and lost, but Jaejoong knew they weren't really seeing him. He shifted his weight, adjusting his position around Jaejoong, and the movement elicited little needy whimpers from them both.
“Move,” Yunho growled through gritted teeth, grabbing fistfuls of Jaejoong's much abused shirt for better leverage and thrusting down until Jaejoong was balls-deep inside him. “Just. Fucking. Move.”
Jaejoong didn't need further encouragement. Their coupling was fast and dirty and littered with shouted profanities and uneven cries, and he knew neither of them would've lasted long, not this time. The pleasure was so intense it verged on unbearable, blurring the line between bliss and pain, narrowing his focus until it included nothing else but the sweaty body riding him at a frenzied pace.
He latched his arms around Yunho's neck and yanked him down for a bruising kiss; heat coiled in his groin and clouded his mind, and then Yunho did something with his inner muscles that made them both cry out at the same time, and it was like plunging down a rollercoaster, exhilarating and impossible to stop, like falling and flying at the same time, indescribable and perfect.
-----
Jaejoong stared at the dark ceiling above him for a long while, not quite trusting his voice yet, content with just holding Yunho's still trembling body against his chest.
“That was... that was...” he finally managed to say, struggling to find the right word and then deciding that simply there wasn't one.
Yunho made a muffled sound of agreement from against Jaejoong's shoulder, where he'd collapsed earlier, not even attempting to move. Jaejoong carded his fingers tenderly through his damp hair, and was rewarded with a brilliant, sated smile.
“So I win the bet?” Yunho said, eyes lighting up. Jaejoong stared at him in mild disbelief for a second and then started laughing, shaking his head.
“I can't believe this is the first thing you say after having mindblowing sex,” he complained in a mock-suffering voice, pinching Yunho's backside playfully. Yunho looked disgustingly pleased with himself, and it made Jaejoong want to kiss him senseless just to wipe the smug smirk off his face.
“But yeah, you win,” he admitted, “and I do hope I'll get a repeat in the near future.”
The image of Yunho riding him, drenched in sweat and blue light, flashed in front of his eyes, and to his surprise he felt his cock stir inside Yunho's body again, so soon. Yunho had felt it too, because he was looking at Jaejoong with hooded, smoldering eyes.
“Maybe we’re up for another round, after all,” he said, and kissed Jaejoong again, fiercely.
.End
Note 1: Comments are much appreciated :)
Note 2: I have no clue why some of the text randomly shows in a darker color than the rest. If somebody knows how to fix that, please let me know!