Leavin'
Title: Leavin'
Author: countingcr0ws
Pairing/ Characters: Yunjae
Rating: R
Form: One-shot
Genre: AU, Plain Ridiculousness, Romance, Slice of Life
Summary: Jaejoong takes the seat opposite Yunho.
Inspired by: Leavin' by Jesse Mccartney
Another factory devastation in China, and a general upset among the European community over spying from foreign intelligent agencies.
Clicking my tongue softly in disapproval, I scanned through the article carelessly, barely retaining the basic facts of the latest development.
It was sometimes so hard to take a stand when so many factors had to be considered.
Sighing defeatedly, I continued on to the next page, rolling my eyes at the vast spread of advertisements that had been taken out by an electronic goods giant. Fifth page and counting, and that had to be at least over seventy thousand of advertising expense already. Weekend papers were just that annoying.
"Mm-morning," I jumped a little at his entrance, having completely missed out on the sounds of him waking up.
I raked my eyes over his form quickly.
His hair was smoothly in place, the pair of glasses perched softly on his nose. There were still remnants of fatigue and traces of reluctance on his face while he scanned the room as if deciding on what to do.
Only one button was done, and the white dress shirt exposed too much of his chest.
I couldn't help but wonder if he had anything under.
Folding the papers distractedly, I dropped it carelessly on the space beside me. "I'll go prepare breakfa-" I stopped short, immediately falling back down at the soft noise of protest.
Okay...
He finally made up his mind, his pout intensifying as he claimed the seat opposite mine.
Slumping a little in the single person couch, he stared straight at me, the back rest crinkling at the weight of his body.
Resting a heavy arm onto the side, he propped his head on his hand languidly, his clumsy, almost reluctant moves oddly sensual.
The eye contact never once wavered, and I returned it with a cock of eyebrow when the blankness in his pupils remained despite the round of movement. Rolling my eyes surreptitiously as I dismissed the jumpiness carelessly, I reached for the cup of black coffee on the table.
The familiar aroma filled my nose, and I took a small sip, rolling it in my mouth before gulping the acquired bitterness down casually.
Returning it onto the table, I pushed it beyond half its breadth, a tacit offer to share. He didn't move to take it though, the weight of his listless eyes on my hands.
Picking the papers up once more with an inward sigh, I found the page where I had left off, and god- seriously? Another visit to the Yasukuni shrine?
There were often times when I really felt that I could be a better politician, and this was one of it. I huffed a little in incredulity, when Jaejoong released a small breath.
Folding a small corner of the newspaper down lightly, I was just in time to catch him bringing his legs onto the chair slowly, effectively satiating my curiosity in the process.
Well, apparently he had a pair of black briefs on... I nodded distractedly to myself as my eyes trailed up his thighs unconsciously, then down the pale length of his legs.
Returning to the vivid black contrast, my eyes shot back up at the small sniff, and I met his eyes for the umpteenth time in the morning.
While I would have usually brushed it off with a shit-eating grin, the blankness within his orbs today made me feel incredibly self-conscious. Lowering my head a little nervously, I lifted the corner of the papers back up, dying a little behind my cover.
What a pervert, Jung Yunho. He's just fucking sitting over there. Did you actually have to stare like that?
Another affirmation of bilateral ties, a new scientific lead that sparked no interest within me, and a lack of gender equality in twitter's board of directors. Hmm, tantalising.
I shook my head desperately in an attempt to regain my focus, trying to dispel the need to peer over the papers once more.
You're made of tougher stuff, Yunho!
The voice was instantaneously drowned by my subconscious. Tougher stuff as in, my dick? I slapped myself mentally in exasperation. Whatever messed-up game Jaejoong was playing at definitely already had my lower-half piqued. I lowered my shield by a few inches, fingers burning, nearly jumping out of my skin at the sliver of smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Oh shoot, oh shoot. There was a noisy rustle of papers as my hands shot back up at the intense blood rush.
Shit. I definitely preferred the look of disinterest much more, because this was simply killing me.
There was a nudge to my legs, and I shifted reflexively, when a pale feet appeared under the papers to stroke at my thigh. Fuckkkkkkk. I felt my body shudder, the edges of the newspaper crumpling in my balled fists.
As soon as it came, it left.
Working to steady my breath as the pale feet slid out of side, I did a quick mental cost-benefit analysis.
Be a man, Yunho. Folding my papers coolly, I tossed it on the floor, my eyes immediately latching onto his gaze boldly.
Leaning backwards calmly, I spread my legs slowly to assume a posture of dominance, haughtiness and assurance.
Moving to rest both my hands on the sides coolly, I schooled my expression to that of a mask.
It took two hands to clap, and two people to play a game, my dear Jaejoongie. I was capable of winning this game of seduction.
The ache in my nether regions was slowly fading, and the regained control boosted my confidence. The blistering want simply gave the brat too much of an upper hand. Running a finger across my chin, I appraised him objectively, my eyes sweeping domineeringly over his body, a 180° contrast to my previous attempt. If Jaejoong was by any inch frazzled, he didn't show it, the small smile returning as he raised the stakes, his legs opening a little wider now.
I hummed approvingly, my eyebrow cocking in appreciation as I looked closely at him for the first time since the morning. Not a flushed glance that barely sufficed, nor that tainted by the starved hunger of my libido. It was neither an attempt to redraw boundaries, but an objective appraisal of individuals of equal standing; albeit tainted with the soft affection of a lover.
I liked it very much when he helped himself to my clothes, and I definitely approved of his choice of attire. It was impossible how it looked so much better on him than it ever did on me.
I couldn't imagine wearing it to work on Monday, the trace of Jaejoong's skin against mine throughout work. I sighed mentally as I leaned backwards further.
The stiffness of the shirt held up the opening at the neck, exposing his pale shoulders and his built chest; the tattoo he had gotten a few months ago peeking out like a reminder.
I traced the curves of his collarbone with my eyes, taking in every pale expanse of flesh as I followed the trail of his undone buttons, sliding to the glimpse of his navel.
His body folded to the bottom in his position, and I drank in the planes of his inner thighs, recalling the softness as he quivered underneath me just hours ago. The briefs clung to him like second skin, and it was impossible to dislike. We both coincidentally shared the preference for briefs, and while I still possessed a few pair of boxers for the relative freedom, he didn't.
I ambled on, smoothing across his pale legs, mentally disapproving of how fragile they looked. I could envision an imminent trip to the supermarket soon, together with a discussion about workout routines. Maybe a little more unhealthy snacks lying about the house would be good... I slid my fingers down my temple slowly.
Ending with the pink scallops of his toe nails, I strolled back up languorously, returning the smile on his face with tender appreciation. The dark eyes shined at me from behind the clear lenses, and I could discern the shy adoration in the clear windows of his eyes.
He was perfect, a complete shape of my love.
I felt my affection running forth, spilling over and racing ahead, successive waves stronger than the first; like the heads of a tsunami. The distance separating us felt so vast suddenly, the entirety of my soul aching for his, the cavity of my heart beginning to devour every irrelevance that wasn't him.
Come, I signalled at him, my foot shifting to kick the newspapers away. He acquiesced, his briefs disappearing under the shirt once more as he got up.
Settling sideways on my lap, my fingers immediately snaked under his dress shirt, gliding smoothly as I traced the muscled planes of his back with fragile reverence. Dropping the top of his attire, I swept the cloth down, the shirt pooling at his abdomen.
He shuddered a little at the exposure, and I pressed my face against the base of his ribs, slowly trailing my cheek up softly; my ear filling up with the thump of his heart as I slid pass.
Stopping at his neck, I exhaled deeply, almost a sigh, as I pulled him closer, a hand closed over his hard nipple while another at the middle of his spine.
"Good morning love," I whispered almost inaudibly as I extended my tongue to lick the expanse of skin. My fingers traced small circles of affection over his flesh, and a small mewl was all I got in return as he keened.
Taking a spot softly in my mouth, I sucked lightly while shifting my hands, my left moving to the front to cup his crotch. Shaking my head disapprovingly at the complete softness, I felt him laughing unabashedly.
Slipping my hand into the polyester blend, I palmed the base of his balls coolly before trailing up the flaccid length slowly while moving to lick the erogenous zone at the back of his ear.
The tables turned at the hitch of his breath, and I laughed into his ear, pinching his nipple roughly while pushing him to stand as I tugged the obstructive briefs off. It fell to his ankles, and the way he dismissed it carelessly with a kick of his legs amused me.
My fingers slipped and slid proficiently on his length, circling and trailing, pinching and caressing. Thumbing the head of his length forcefully, I felt him shudder involuntarily as his eyes went out of focus. He looked the part of a kinky secretary, the black frames still on as he whimpered under my touch.
That made me the boss, I supposed, and I couldn't help but think that the amount of approval I had for the ring to it was a little-more than what was absolutely necessary.
Grinning confidently to myself, I tipped him a little lower, holding his head up as I leaned in for a kiss.
The couch was terribly small, and I desperately needed a new set of furniture, one that was very much less catered to a corporate world bachelor and more to er- a boss that was fucking his sexy assistant.
No, there was a vast difference to the both cases, alright?
Deciding that just getting him off would suffice, I slid a soft tongue into his willing lips. The minty aftertaste of the toothpaste that accompanied the wetness was surprisingly novel.
Our mornings usually only comprised of rushed pecks, and I had no distinct memory of the taste of secondhand toothpaste in our kisses. If anything, at least I was noticing now.
The desperate want in his tongue was headily intoxicating, and I felt the wetness of his pre-cum leaking onto my fingers. Wrapping my coated hands around his length, I sped up exponentially, the warmth in my palm multiplying with each thrust.
Breaking off our mouths desperately to hear him whine, I moved to abuse his already sensitive nipple with my mouth, biting down roughly when he tried to trash and shift away. His panting became more laboured, and the hands that were pushing my face away suddenly went slack.
With a buck of his hips and a whimper of my name, he came undone before me, and I quickly moved to kiss him as he rode his ecstasy out with swallowed gasps.
His breathing steadied, and he pushed me away as he got up to stand, almost falling before I caught him. Sitting him back onto my lap softly while I pulled him close, he tucked his face into the crook of my neck shyly.
I could feel the press of his frames against my skin, and I carded his hair wordlessly.
"Are you okay?" I finally offered my lover, and he nodded quietly without speaking.
"I feel thoroughly ravished," he complained unhappily with a scowl, looking down at his sore nipple as he surfaced.
"Sounds good," I laughed shamelessly as I slid my hands down his spine, slipping a finger between the crests of his bottom.
"Yunho!" He gasped scandalously, cheeks flushing crimson as he wiggled futilely while I held him down.
"Oh my god!" He struggled harder now as I inserted another digit. Pressing him flush against my chest, I laughed at his weakening protests.
"Oh fuck!" I suddenly bucked at the pain, unintentionally releasing him as I coiled up from the physical distress. The minx had pressed down against my jewels, and 'fucking torturous' didn't even suffice.
He stood in front of me with barely an ounce of apology on his face.
"You'll live, you sex fiend," he sniffed unhappily as he kicked my knee roughly before stooping forward to pick his discarded briefs up.
"Where're you going?" I barely managed, desperately nursing my bruised ego with the marvellous sight of his soft pale bottom.
"I'm very unfortunately-" he turned to look at me blankly with a sniff, straightening his shirt primly before continuing. "Going to make breakfast to fuel your impossible sex drive," he finished as he finger combed his dishevelled hair into place.
As he bent over to insert a feet into his briefs, I quickly stretched to step on the clothing. He narrowed his eyes at me unhappily as he straightened slowly.
"What," he bit out tersely.
Ooh, feisty.
"You wouldn't need that to cook," I replied brightly with an encouraging smile, marvelling awfully as his nostrils flared dangerously.
Ooh, sexy.
An impossibly long moment passed between us and he finally gave up with an annoyed eye roll.
"Fine, fine! As long as it makes your fractured masculinity feel better," he acquiesced with a mean simper, before lifting his leg to kick me childishly.
Oh, what a sight! Flipping the hem of the dress shirt up, I hummed lowly to myself, incredibly pleased by the quality of the goods on display.
"Oh my god, you fucking pervert!" He slapped my hand off roughly with an annoyed yell before stomping off in the direction of the kitchen.
Sighing helplessly, I got up to trail after him. Because hot damn- he honestly didn't need a shirt to cook either.
- - - - -
A/N: I'm sorry for the potentially sensitive news headlines and its careless treatment, and no, Jaejoong isn't Yunho's secretary. It's all Yunho's dirty brain, and my summary is stupid; my title misleading.
It sounds like some major angsty fic that'll make your little Yunjae heart bleed, hahaha.
The plot happened from the MV while I was randomly trawling Youtube for my tweenage songs, and I initially planned on having them just sitting opposite each other while Yunho waxed poetic throughout like he did in Nothing Better. But then sexy time just kind of happened, and PWP became smut.
Oh well, I hope you liked it, and thank you for stopping by even despite the bad title *beams.* And well, leave a comment, lol (like srsly).
Prev Chap | Next Chap
Author: countingcr0ws
Pairing/ Characters: Yunjae
Rating: R
Form: One-shot
Genre: AU, Plain Ridiculousness, Romance, Slice of Life
Summary: Jaejoong takes the seat opposite Yunho.
Inspired by: Leavin' by Jesse Mccartney
Another factory devastation in China, and a general upset among the European community over spying from foreign intelligent agencies.
Clicking my tongue softly in disapproval, I scanned through the article carelessly, barely retaining the basic facts of the latest development.
It was sometimes so hard to take a stand when so many factors had to be considered.
Sighing defeatedly, I continued on to the next page, rolling my eyes at the vast spread of advertisements that had been taken out by an electronic goods giant. Fifth page and counting, and that had to be at least over seventy thousand of advertising expense already. Weekend papers were just that annoying.
"Mm-morning," I jumped a little at his entrance, having completely missed out on the sounds of him waking up.
I raked my eyes over his form quickly.
His hair was smoothly in place, the pair of glasses perched softly on his nose. There were still remnants of fatigue and traces of reluctance on his face while he scanned the room as if deciding on what to do.
Only one button was done, and the white dress shirt exposed too much of his chest.
I couldn't help but wonder if he had anything under.
Folding the papers distractedly, I dropped it carelessly on the space beside me. "I'll go prepare breakfa-" I stopped short, immediately falling back down at the soft noise of protest.
Okay...
He finally made up his mind, his pout intensifying as he claimed the seat opposite mine.
Slumping a little in the single person couch, he stared straight at me, the back rest crinkling at the weight of his body.
Resting a heavy arm onto the side, he propped his head on his hand languidly, his clumsy, almost reluctant moves oddly sensual.
The eye contact never once wavered, and I returned it with a cock of eyebrow when the blankness in his pupils remained despite the round of movement. Rolling my eyes surreptitiously as I dismissed the jumpiness carelessly, I reached for the cup of black coffee on the table.
The familiar aroma filled my nose, and I took a small sip, rolling it in my mouth before gulping the acquired bitterness down casually.
Returning it onto the table, I pushed it beyond half its breadth, a tacit offer to share. He didn't move to take it though, the weight of his listless eyes on my hands.
Picking the papers up once more with an inward sigh, I found the page where I had left off, and god- seriously? Another visit to the Yasukuni shrine?
There were often times when I really felt that I could be a better politician, and this was one of it. I huffed a little in incredulity, when Jaejoong released a small breath.
Folding a small corner of the newspaper down lightly, I was just in time to catch him bringing his legs onto the chair slowly, effectively satiating my curiosity in the process.
Well, apparently he had a pair of black briefs on... I nodded distractedly to myself as my eyes trailed up his thighs unconsciously, then down the pale length of his legs.
Returning to the vivid black contrast, my eyes shot back up at the small sniff, and I met his eyes for the umpteenth time in the morning.
While I would have usually brushed it off with a shit-eating grin, the blankness within his orbs today made me feel incredibly self-conscious. Lowering my head a little nervously, I lifted the corner of the papers back up, dying a little behind my cover.
What a pervert, Jung Yunho. He's just fucking sitting over there. Did you actually have to stare like that?
Another affirmation of bilateral ties, a new scientific lead that sparked no interest within me, and a lack of gender equality in twitter's board of directors. Hmm, tantalising.
I shook my head desperately in an attempt to regain my focus, trying to dispel the need to peer over the papers once more.
You're made of tougher stuff, Yunho!
The voice was instantaneously drowned by my subconscious. Tougher stuff as in, my dick? I slapped myself mentally in exasperation. Whatever messed-up game Jaejoong was playing at definitely already had my lower-half piqued. I lowered my shield by a few inches, fingers burning, nearly jumping out of my skin at the sliver of smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Oh shoot, oh shoot. There was a noisy rustle of papers as my hands shot back up at the intense blood rush.
Shit. I definitely preferred the look of disinterest much more, because this was simply killing me.
There was a nudge to my legs, and I shifted reflexively, when a pale feet appeared under the papers to stroke at my thigh. Fuckkkkkkk. I felt my body shudder, the edges of the newspaper crumpling in my balled fists.
As soon as it came, it left.
Working to steady my breath as the pale feet slid out of side, I did a quick mental cost-benefit analysis.
Be a man, Yunho. Folding my papers coolly, I tossed it on the floor, my eyes immediately latching onto his gaze boldly.
Leaning backwards calmly, I spread my legs slowly to assume a posture of dominance, haughtiness and assurance.
Moving to rest both my hands on the sides coolly, I schooled my expression to that of a mask.
It took two hands to clap, and two people to play a game, my dear Jaejoongie. I was capable of winning this game of seduction.
The ache in my nether regions was slowly fading, and the regained control boosted my confidence. The blistering want simply gave the brat too much of an upper hand. Running a finger across my chin, I appraised him objectively, my eyes sweeping domineeringly over his body, a 180° contrast to my previous attempt. If Jaejoong was by any inch frazzled, he didn't show it, the small smile returning as he raised the stakes, his legs opening a little wider now.
I hummed approvingly, my eyebrow cocking in appreciation as I looked closely at him for the first time since the morning. Not a flushed glance that barely sufficed, nor that tainted by the starved hunger of my libido. It was neither an attempt to redraw boundaries, but an objective appraisal of individuals of equal standing; albeit tainted with the soft affection of a lover.
I liked it very much when he helped himself to my clothes, and I definitely approved of his choice of attire. It was impossible how it looked so much better on him than it ever did on me.
I couldn't imagine wearing it to work on Monday, the trace of Jaejoong's skin against mine throughout work. I sighed mentally as I leaned backwards further.
The stiffness of the shirt held up the opening at the neck, exposing his pale shoulders and his built chest; the tattoo he had gotten a few months ago peeking out like a reminder.
I traced the curves of his collarbone with my eyes, taking in every pale expanse of flesh as I followed the trail of his undone buttons, sliding to the glimpse of his navel.
His body folded to the bottom in his position, and I drank in the planes of his inner thighs, recalling the softness as he quivered underneath me just hours ago. The briefs clung to him like second skin, and it was impossible to dislike. We both coincidentally shared the preference for briefs, and while I still possessed a few pair of boxers for the relative freedom, he didn't.
I ambled on, smoothing across his pale legs, mentally disapproving of how fragile they looked. I could envision an imminent trip to the supermarket soon, together with a discussion about workout routines. Maybe a little more unhealthy snacks lying about the house would be good... I slid my fingers down my temple slowly.
Ending with the pink scallops of his toe nails, I strolled back up languorously, returning the smile on his face with tender appreciation. The dark eyes shined at me from behind the clear lenses, and I could discern the shy adoration in the clear windows of his eyes.
He was perfect, a complete shape of my love.
I felt my affection running forth, spilling over and racing ahead, successive waves stronger than the first; like the heads of a tsunami. The distance separating us felt so vast suddenly, the entirety of my soul aching for his, the cavity of my heart beginning to devour every irrelevance that wasn't him.
Come, I signalled at him, my foot shifting to kick the newspapers away. He acquiesced, his briefs disappearing under the shirt once more as he got up.
Settling sideways on my lap, my fingers immediately snaked under his dress shirt, gliding smoothly as I traced the muscled planes of his back with fragile reverence. Dropping the top of his attire, I swept the cloth down, the shirt pooling at his abdomen.
He shuddered a little at the exposure, and I pressed my face against the base of his ribs, slowly trailing my cheek up softly; my ear filling up with the thump of his heart as I slid pass.
Stopping at his neck, I exhaled deeply, almost a sigh, as I pulled him closer, a hand closed over his hard nipple while another at the middle of his spine.
"Good morning love," I whispered almost inaudibly as I extended my tongue to lick the expanse of skin. My fingers traced small circles of affection over his flesh, and a small mewl was all I got in return as he keened.
Taking a spot softly in my mouth, I sucked lightly while shifting my hands, my left moving to the front to cup his crotch. Shaking my head disapprovingly at the complete softness, I felt him laughing unabashedly.
Slipping my hand into the polyester blend, I palmed the base of his balls coolly before trailing up the flaccid length slowly while moving to lick the erogenous zone at the back of his ear.
The tables turned at the hitch of his breath, and I laughed into his ear, pinching his nipple roughly while pushing him to stand as I tugged the obstructive briefs off. It fell to his ankles, and the way he dismissed it carelessly with a kick of his legs amused me.
My fingers slipped and slid proficiently on his length, circling and trailing, pinching and caressing. Thumbing the head of his length forcefully, I felt him shudder involuntarily as his eyes went out of focus. He looked the part of a kinky secretary, the black frames still on as he whimpered under my touch.
That made me the boss, I supposed, and I couldn't help but think that the amount of approval I had for the ring to it was a little-more than what was absolutely necessary.
Grinning confidently to myself, I tipped him a little lower, holding his head up as I leaned in for a kiss.
The couch was terribly small, and I desperately needed a new set of furniture, one that was very much less catered to a corporate world bachelor and more to er- a boss that was fucking his sexy assistant.
No, there was a vast difference to the both cases, alright?
Deciding that just getting him off would suffice, I slid a soft tongue into his willing lips. The minty aftertaste of the toothpaste that accompanied the wetness was surprisingly novel.
Our mornings usually only comprised of rushed pecks, and I had no distinct memory of the taste of secondhand toothpaste in our kisses. If anything, at least I was noticing now.
The desperate want in his tongue was headily intoxicating, and I felt the wetness of his pre-cum leaking onto my fingers. Wrapping my coated hands around his length, I sped up exponentially, the warmth in my palm multiplying with each thrust.
Breaking off our mouths desperately to hear him whine, I moved to abuse his already sensitive nipple with my mouth, biting down roughly when he tried to trash and shift away. His panting became more laboured, and the hands that were pushing my face away suddenly went slack.
With a buck of his hips and a whimper of my name, he came undone before me, and I quickly moved to kiss him as he rode his ecstasy out with swallowed gasps.
His breathing steadied, and he pushed me away as he got up to stand, almost falling before I caught him. Sitting him back onto my lap softly while I pulled him close, he tucked his face into the crook of my neck shyly.
I could feel the press of his frames against my skin, and I carded his hair wordlessly.
"Are you okay?" I finally offered my lover, and he nodded quietly without speaking.
"I feel thoroughly ravished," he complained unhappily with a scowl, looking down at his sore nipple as he surfaced.
"Sounds good," I laughed shamelessly as I slid my hands down his spine, slipping a finger between the crests of his bottom.
"Yunho!" He gasped scandalously, cheeks flushing crimson as he wiggled futilely while I held him down.
"Oh my god!" He struggled harder now as I inserted another digit. Pressing him flush against my chest, I laughed at his weakening protests.
"Oh fuck!" I suddenly bucked at the pain, unintentionally releasing him as I coiled up from the physical distress. The minx had pressed down against my jewels, and 'fucking torturous' didn't even suffice.
He stood in front of me with barely an ounce of apology on his face.
"You'll live, you sex fiend," he sniffed unhappily as he kicked my knee roughly before stooping forward to pick his discarded briefs up.
"Where're you going?" I barely managed, desperately nursing my bruised ego with the marvellous sight of his soft pale bottom.
"I'm very unfortunately-" he turned to look at me blankly with a sniff, straightening his shirt primly before continuing. "Going to make breakfast to fuel your impossible sex drive," he finished as he finger combed his dishevelled hair into place.
As he bent over to insert a feet into his briefs, I quickly stretched to step on the clothing. He narrowed his eyes at me unhappily as he straightened slowly.
"What," he bit out tersely.
Ooh, feisty.
"You wouldn't need that to cook," I replied brightly with an encouraging smile, marvelling awfully as his nostrils flared dangerously.
Ooh, sexy.
An impossibly long moment passed between us and he finally gave up with an annoyed eye roll.
"Fine, fine! As long as it makes your fractured masculinity feel better," he acquiesced with a mean simper, before lifting his leg to kick me childishly.
Oh, what a sight! Flipping the hem of the dress shirt up, I hummed lowly to myself, incredibly pleased by the quality of the goods on display.
"Oh my god, you fucking pervert!" He slapped my hand off roughly with an annoyed yell before stomping off in the direction of the kitchen.
Sighing helplessly, I got up to trail after him. Because hot damn- he honestly didn't need a shirt to cook either.
- - - - -
A/N: I'm sorry for the potentially sensitive news headlines and its careless treatment, and no, Jaejoong isn't Yunho's secretary. It's all Yunho's dirty brain, and my summary is stupid; my title misleading.
It sounds like some major angsty fic that'll make your little Yunjae heart bleed, hahaha.
The plot happened from the MV while I was randomly trawling Youtube for my tweenage songs, and I initially planned on having them just sitting opposite each other while Yunho waxed poetic throughout like he did in Nothing Better. But then sexy time just kind of happened, and PWP became smut.
Oh well, I hope you liked it, and thank you for stopping by even despite the bad title *beams.* And well, leave a comment, lol (like srsly).
Prev Chap | Next Chap