(I wish you would) Fuck Me Up
(I wish you would) Fuck Me Up
Jaejoong/Junsu
NC-17 - not kidding.
~3450w approx.
Warnings: BDSM (consensual sex/violence, possibly triggering content?), angst.
This is, somewhat, for mimei, as I think we share some of the same opinions about JaeSu. ;D I really, really hope this works and I'm v. :/ about it. Title thanks to angelacaduca & Ryan Adams. ♥
Junsu leans back against the sauna wall and tries to relax. He can feel the heat working into his pores and sweat dripping down his legs.
“’Sup.”
Junsu turns his head and watches Jaejoong glide towards him like a hazy dream. The illusion is shattered when Jaejoong slips and grinds out a loud, “Fuck!”
“Nice,” Junsu comments, returning to his previous position and closing his eyes.
Jaejoong settles beside him. Noisily. “Junsuyah,” he says conversationally, “how do you feel about handcuffs?”
Junsu cracks one eye open and sighs. “Did you get arrested again? Hyung will kill you.”
“Nah,” Jaejoong dismisses. “I mean like, sex handcuffs?”
“Sex handcuffs,” Junsu repeats.
“Yeah.” Jaejoong slides even closer to Junsu on the bench. “Ever wondered what it’d be like, handcuffed and completely at the mercy of someone else?”
Junsu rubs a hand over his face and stands up. “Don’t stay in too long. You’ll get wrinkly like a prune,” he says, and leaves.
X
“Junsuyah,” Jaejoong says, stepping out of the shower as Junsu brushes his teeth.
“Mmph,” Junsu replies, mouth full of toothpaste and bristles.
“Did Changmin show you the latest video he downloaded?”
Junsu pauses, then shakes his head slowly. Alarm bells go off in his mind.
“It’s got this chick getting spanked with a paddle,” Jaejoong explains, towelling off his hair. “Her ass was bright red.”
Junsu spits and blurts out, “Did she like it?”, before he can help himself.
“From the racket she was making, I think so.” Jaejoong shrugs and smiles. “Dunno if I’d be into spanking though. I haven’t got much ass.”
Junsu chokes on the remaining toothpaste in his mouth and straightens up abruptly. He knocks over the ceramic soap dish and watches, almost in slow motion, as it breaks in the sink. A shard rebounds and slices across the top of his left index finger.
“Junsu!” Jaejoong scolds. He drops his towel and reaches for Junsu’s hand, sliding the injured finger into his mouth automatically.
Junsu freezes, lungs constricting and the remainder of his toothpaste sliding awkwardly down his throat. Jaejoong’s tongue feels rough, taste buds raised and rubbing against his skin.
They lock eyes and Jaejoong sucks, hard. Junsu can feel the blood pumping from the wound into Jaejoong’s mouth and wrenches his hand away as if burnt. A smear of red shines brightly along Jaejoong’s lip and halfway down his chin. He tongues the blood away as if it were sugar.
Junsu turns and leaves, totally forgetting about the mess he’s left behind.
X
“Boo,” Jaejoong says, cornering Junsu in the hallway. Junsu feels his nerves unravel like ribbons.
“G-good morning, hyung,” he stutters. “What’s up?”
“Rope,” Jaejoong says. “Or shoelaces.”
Junsu blinks slowly, a lead weight sinking in his stomach. “What?”
Jaejoong smiles dazzlingly. “For being tied up. I mean, it’s more likely that we have shoelaces, but rope would be-“ he pauses, brow wrinkling in thought, “-actually, no. It’d burn. Ooo, no wait, again. Burning. Hmm…”
Junsu isn’t sure how to react; part of him is rolling his eyes at another one of Jaejoong’s tangents, but another part wants to run away from the talk of rope, shoelaces and burning. Very fast.
“You’re not tying me up,” he says. “No way.”
Jaejoong stops rambling and gives him a weird look. “I don’t want to tie you up.”
Junsu blushes and frowns. “Oh. Good, because-“
“I’d be the one tied up,” Jaejoong interrupts. “Preferably on my front, begging, wanting.” He presses up against Junsu, trapping him in place with strong arms and groans, “Stop, stop that hurts, more, give me more, don’t do that, oh, stop.”
Junsu, instantly hard and dizzy with heat, twists himself out of Jaejoong’s grasp and escapes into the room he shares with their manager.
“It’d be totally hot!” Jaejoong calls out.
Junsu ignores him, closes the door and reaches for his phone.
X
It takes five rings before someone picks up.
“Yoochun!” Junsu practically shouts.
A slight pause. “Junsu? Why are you calling me?”
“You have to save me from Jaejoong,” Junsu pleads.
“O-kay? Junsu, are you in your room? I can hear you.”
“…Yes. Save me.”
Yoochun sighs down the line. “Why don’t you just come in here and talk?”
“No! He might be there.”
Yoochun sighs again. “Then I’ll come to you.”
Junsu hears a door open down the hall and Yoochun’s unmistakable, yet slightly muffled, footsteps.
“Let me in,” Yoochun says, still talking through the phone line.
Junsu hangs up and opens his door cautiously. “Is hyung outside?”
Yoochun rolls his eyes and pushes his way into the room. “No. What’s the problem?”
Junsu drags Yoochun over to the bed and flops down, clinging to Yoochun’s hand.
“Hey,” Yoochun says, suddenly concerned. “What’s got into you?”
“Jaejoong wants me to tie him up,” Junsu explains.
“What?”
“He keeps talking about handcuffs and rope and spanking, although I don’t think he’s serious about the spanking. Not enough ass?”
Yoochun’s expression morphs into one of understanding. Junsu is suspicious. “Ah,” Yoochun says softly.
“Ah, what?” Junsu asks. “Does he really want me to tie him up?”
Yoochun shrugs. “If he told you that, then probably, yeah.”
Junsu can’t quite believe it. “But why?”
“Why not?” Yoochun counters. “Jaejoongie is not unattractive, right?”
“He’s very attractive,” Junsu admits, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tie him up!”
“He’d like it. A lot.”
That gets Junsu’s attention. He sits back and withdraws from Yoochun a bit. “I know he said he was an M, but I thought he just liked eating spicy curry,” Junsu says.
Yoochun laughs and ruffles Junsu’s hair. “Your innocence is kinda sick.”
Junsu bats him away irritably. “Is he serious about it? Why would he enjoy that?”
“Maybe you should ask him,” Yoochun suggests.
Junsu fixes him with a glare. “Yoochun. Does he get off on pain, or what? That’s kinda weird.”
“Why does it have to be weird?” Yoochun says. “And it’s not just about the pain, Junsuyah. It’s about the intensity. The feelings.”
Junsu exhales loudly. “You’ve talked about this before?”
Yoochun shrugs again. “A couple of times. It’s not that he likes getting hurt-“
“Then what?”
“-it’s about feeling something so intense that it lasts for days. Being allowed to feel how he wants, and pain is the best way for him to achieve that.”
Junsu shuts up, head reeling with the information. “I don’t understand,” he whispers.
Yoochun crosses his legs and smiles kindly. “We’re not allowed to be real human beings, Junsu. Not really. Not with this lifestyle. Our feelings and emotions are scripted for us. But what goes in Jaejoong’s bed is his own business, and no one can tell him otherwise. There, he can do whatever he wants and feel whatever he needs to feel.” Yoochun squeezes Junsu’s hand. “Think of it as a release.”
“But why me?” Junsu questions, pulling his hand free. “I couldn’t-“
“That’s something you should definitely ask him,” Yoochun says. “But imagine being able to give someone exactly what they want? That’s power, Junsuyah. You’d be holding a lot of power over Jaejoongie and he’d get off on it.”
The words uncurl heat in Junsu’s belly, a not-so-unpleasant shock of arousal. Power isn’t something Junsu’s dwelled on before. He’s not the leader, but could have been (for a few minutes, thought he should have been). He thinks of Jaejoong’s eyes - dark and round and half-empty.
Yoochun stands up and heads towards the door. “Think about it,” he says. “It’d be good for him.”
“So I should do it because it’d be good for him?”
Yoochun pauses thoughtfully. “Not just for him. I think it’d be good for you, too.”
Yoochun closes the door and Junsu, his eyes. The conversation replays in his head, stopping and starting like a scratch on vinyl. He thinks about his relationship with Jaejoong over the years.
Yoochun is more perceptive that Junsu would ever have thought.
X
“Hey, hyung,” Junsu says awkwardly, plopping down next to Jaejoong on the couch.
Jaejoong smiles brightly. “Good evening, dongsaeng. You okay?”
“Yoochun told me about why you want me to tie you up,” Junsu blabs, all in a rush.
The smile fades from Jaejoong’s mouth. “Oh. I see.”
“Is it true?”
“Which part?”
“Everything.”
Jaejoong pauses and Junsu immediately feels stupid, naïve. He doesn’t know how this works. He’s never met anyone like Jaejoong, ever. Their friendship hasn’t been the easiest and he’s suddenly afraid that the mark has just been overstepped.
Jaejoong raises his chin and looks Junsu directly in the eye. “Yes.”
Junsu is simultaneously relieved, scared and excited. He takes a deep breath and asks, “But why me?”
Jaejoong looks down at his hands. “Honestly, you’re the only one I would ask. Yoochun wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt anyone, regardless of whether they wanted it or not. Yunho won’t understand and Changmin, no matter how mature he seems, is too young.” He looks up, gaze so piercing that Junsu flinches. “But there’s tension in you, Junsu, I know it. You understand intensity. You wouldn’t be afraid to give me what I want.”
Junsu shivers, the truth in Jaejoong’s words is like fuel on a flame. “I don’t know how this works,” he says quietly.
Jaejoong quirks his lips. He looks suddenly sad. “However you want, Junsuyah. It’s your call.”
Junsu stands and runs shaking fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back," he promises. “But I need to think.”
“Sure,” Jaejoong murmurs, looking down at his hands again. “Whenever.”
Junsu leaves Jaejoong sitting alone for the nth time. But this time he’s beginning to understand.
X
Junsu lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling. He thinks about the push/pull of their friendship - Jaejoong always pushing and Junsu pulling away. In the beginning, at least. And then he thinks about Jaejoong’s words, and the way he sucked Junsu’s blood, taking the pain of the cut into his own body.
Something clicks into place.
X
He catches Jaejoong in the kitchen this time. “Hyung,” he says, causing Jaejoong to jump and nearly knock his glass of water over. “I won’t fuck you without lube. And condoms.”
Jaejoong settles his glass and studies Junsu seriously for a second. “Okay.”
“But I still don’t know what to do,” Junsu admits, fighting a blush, “about the pain thing.”
“I’ll bring everything,” Jaejoong assures him. “I’ll take care of it.”
Junsu nods. “Where? Not here.”
“Yoochun’s house,” Jaejoong says quickly. “He said we can.”
Junsu feels his eyes widen. “But-“
“When they’re out, stupid.” Jaejoong snickers a little and Junsu relaxes a bit. “I’ll let you know when.”
Junsu swallows hard, nods again, and hopes that his confidence won’t betray him.
X
It is twelve days later before an opportunity arises, both their schedules and Yoochun’s house becoming free at the same time.
Jaejoong tells Junsu to meet him outside the house at 10:30 p.m.
X
When Junsu arrives at Yoochun’s empty house, he parks up and rests his head on the steering wheel. The situation almost doesn’t seem real, and he can’t quite comprehend what is going to happen tonight. But Yoochun is right - it might be good for them. They might need this.
He gets out and locks the car.
Jaejoong is waiting by the door, hood and baseball cap pulled over his eyes. He’s wearing non-descript clothes, probably borrowed from Yunho, Junsu muses. There’s a plastic carrier bag in his hand. Junsu can’t make out anything from the outside, but his stomach clenches in anticipation.
“Hey,” Jaejoong says in greeting. He waves at the door. “We should go in.”
Junsu nods, not trusting himself to speak, and follows Jaejoong inside. He’s only been to Yoochun’s house once, and it’s so huge that he can’t help but feel tiny and lost. Not something he likes, and not useful for the role he’s about to take on.
Jaejoong leads him to Yoochun’s room and they pause outside. “We need a safeword,” Jaejoong says, pulling his hood down and taking his hat off.
“Safeword?” Junsu asks stupidly.
Jaejoong grins. “Yeah. In case it gets too much and I’m in real pain.”
“Oh.”
“What wouldn’t you normally say during sex?”
Junsu thinks for a second. “Yoochun?”
Jaejoong covers a giggle with his hand. “If Yoochun were to find out that he was involved in this, he’d never forgive us. Think again.”
Junsu looks around the hallway for inspiration. “Uh, lampshade?”
“Lampshade?” Jaejoong tilts his head in thought. “That’ll do, I guess.”
Junsu shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “So. Um.”
“I’ll go inside first,” Jaejoong says. “I need ten minutes to get in the right frame of mind. You should do the same.”
“Right, of course. Um, and when I come in…?”
“I’ll put everything out. Just do what comes naturally, Junsuyah,” Jaejoong offers, squeezing Junsu’s shoulder reassuringly. “You can do anything. I’ll do anything you want. Don’t stop unless I say the safeword, okay? Even if I beg. It’s part of what this is.”
Junsu steels himself. “Right.”
Jaejoong schools his expression into seriousness and opens the door. “See you in ten.”
When the door shuts again, Junsu leans against it and slides down to sit. He closes his eyes and gathers together every bit of tension from the past five or six years. Every glance and betrayal and throwaway comment. Every moment that Jaejoong was forced to be someone he’s not. Every moment Junsu was made to do the same.
Ten minutes pass like ten seconds. Junsu pulls himself to his feet. His shoulders are set, a different hardness in the way he stands.
He goes inside.
X
Jaejoong kneels in the middle of a wide double bed. Naked, head bowed, arms crossed behind his back. Beside him, laid out on the bed, are lube, condoms, shoelaces and a leather belt with a big silver buckle. Simple, nothing scary. It fits.
Jaejoong is silent as Junsu walks across the room. There is no indication that he’s acknowledged Junsu’s entrance.
“Look at me,” Junsu demands. He stands in front of Jaejoong at the foot of the bed.
Jaejoong raises his head and locks solemn eyes with Junsu. He stays silent.
“You’re going to do as I say,” Junsu says, no question. “And in return I will give you exactly what you want. Understood?”
Jaejoong nods and says, “Yes,” so softly that Junsu barely catches it.
“What?”
“Yes,” Jaejoong repeats, raising his voice.
“That’s what I thought,” Junsu replies. The nerves are stuttering to a halt in his stomach. He’s always been good at performing, years spent moulding himself to perfection for every audience. “Turn around,” he directs. “Don’t say anything unless I tell you to.”
Jaejoong shifts around on the bed and Junsu’s eyes are immediately drawn to the pale, flawless skin of his back. The only mar is the tattoo in the middle of his shoulder blades. Junsu makes a mental note not to touch there.
“Hands and knees,” Junsu says. He watches the muscles in Jaejoong’s body flex with each movement. Hurriedly, he takes his clothes off and climbs onto the bed behind Jaejoong.
Light glints off the metal belt buckle at his side, but Junsu ignores it. He focuses on running his hands along Jaejoong’s skin, nails scraping light tracks. Blood bubbles up beneath his touch and Junsu follows the lines of red as they appear. Jaejoong rolls into the caress and Junsu slaps him, hard.
“Stay. Still.”
Jaejoong gasps in reply and Junsu can tell he’s already struggling to stay put. He reaches around and is unsurprised to feel that Jaejoong is already hard. Junsu himself is in a similar state. He tugs on Jaejoong’s cock, just once, and half-smiles at the resulting moan.
“Did I say you could do that?”
“No,” Jaejoong groans. “I’m sorry.”
“Shut up,” Junsu barks. He picks up the belt and runs the smooth leather over Jaejoong’s flushed skin. Jaejoong’s arms tremble and Junsu guesses that he’s trying not to shudder and sigh.
Junsu remembers the first time Jaejoong told him how old he really was. He curls the belt around his fist, buckle tight in his palm, and strikes Jaejoong’s back with the flat side of it. He remembers the way Yunho was completely enchanted at first glance, and puts more strength into the next lash.
Jaejoong grunts and jerks with each hit.
The first time Junsu heard him sing, even though he smoked, and how kids stopped in their paths to listen. Two strikes, for the voice and the attention.
Jaejoong grinds out a snarl.
Not being able to be with Hyukjae and Sungmin. Four, in the same place, on the hip.
Jaejoong shakes uncontrollably.
The mistakes on stage. The humiliation and the lectures. Red welts, all over his thighs and ass.
Junsu unravels the belt, panting. The metal is warm in his hand.
Being in the middle.
Refusing to be the leader.
Drunk driving.
Broken bones.
Fake smiles.
Girl problems. Boy problems. Wanting to hurt himself. Selflessness. Hurting others. Too caring. Not cared for. Empty eyes empty promises empty hearts empty empty empty-
Junsu drops the belt, chest heaving and hands throbbing with deep grooves from leather edges. Jaejoong’s back is covered in a sheen of sweat and blood, bright red drops beading under peeled skin. He’s shaking, arms barely holding him up.
Junsu’s vision is blurred, sweat dripping from his own brow. Mindlessly, he leans forward and runs his tongue through the sticky mess of blood.
Jaejoong moans, loudly, and pushes back against Junsu. “Fuck me,” he rasps, “please fuck me, now, please, please-“
Junsu bites down and Jaejoong arches up and cries out.
Reaching out blindly, Junsu finds the lube and condoms strewn over the bed. His eyes fall on the shoelaces and an idea forms.
“Down,” he growls, pushing Jaejoong’s face towards the mattress and bringing his arms up around his back. He ties them together with the shoelaces. They rub against the open wounds, sure to make them stay sore and bloody.
Jaejoong is exposed, in every way possible, and Junsu thinks (almost drunkenly) that he’s never look so pretty.
He prepares Jaejoong slowly, torturing him with fingers and tongue until he’s begging, “Junsu please, fuck me, stop, just, please, I can’t-“
Junsu fucks him going on animal instinct alone. He watches the blood smear across Jaejoong’s body even further, the plaid shoelaces tearing at already damaged skin. Jaejoong muffles his cries into the mattress but Junsu is so far gone, so lost that he doesn’t even notice the disobedience. Everything is hot and perfect and open and Junsu feels every inch of Jaejoong, finally understands him and how they are and himself and then he feels it, everything tightening and pulling together in one clean moment of clarity and-
“Now,” he whispers, and Jaejoong comes violently, letting free all the tension in his body through shakes and shudders and jerks.
Junsu pulls out as he comes, cock pressing against Jaejoong’s red skin through a layer of latex. He makes no sound, mouth open in a silent cry.
For a single second, everything is calm.
X
“Junsu? Junsu? Junsuyah?”
Junsu blinks, feeling himself being shaken. He focuses and sees Jaejoong smiling at him.
Jaejoong, bloody arms and purple bruises beginning to form. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“You okay, Junsu?” he asks.
Junsu twitches and yanks himself away from Jaejoong’s touch. Jaejoong frowns.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m okay. I told you it’d be really hot,” he says, grinning.
“No,” Junsu whispers. “You’re bleeding.”
Jaejoong glances down at himself and shrugs. “Whatever, it’ll heal. Might need to wash the sheets though,” he muses.
“Is this, is this,” Junsu stutters. He can’t seem to finish a thought, let alone a sentence.
Jaejoong tries to touch his face. “It was perfect, Junsuyah. Thank you.”
Junsu pushes him away and stumbles to get off the bed. “No. No.” He fumbles for his pants and shirt. “Why did you let me?”
“Junsuyah stop,” Jaejoong says. “I wanted you to. We agreed.”
Junsu leaves, true to every recent conversation he’s had with Jaejoong. He ignores Jaejoong calling out behind him and takes the stairs at a jog.
He runs into Yoochun at the bottom and nearly bowls him over.
“Hey,” Yoochun gasps, grabbing onto him. “Slow down. Jaejoong told me you were done.”
Junsu struggles in Yoochun’s grip, desperate to get away.
“Junsu, what the fuck is wrong?”
He breaks free and trips, falling onto the floor, hands shooting out automatically. They hit the tiles with a loud smack and Junsu rolls from the impact.
There are bloody handprints left on the stone. Junsu stares down at his fingers in horror.
What has he done?
Jaejoong/Junsu
NC-17 - not kidding.
~3450w approx.
Warnings: BDSM (consensual sex/violence, possibly triggering content?), angst.
This is, somewhat, for mimei, as I think we share some of the same opinions about JaeSu. ;D I really, really hope this works and I'm v. :/ about it. Title thanks to angelacaduca & Ryan Adams. ♥
Junsu leans back against the sauna wall and tries to relax. He can feel the heat working into his pores and sweat dripping down his legs.
“’Sup.”
Junsu turns his head and watches Jaejoong glide towards him like a hazy dream. The illusion is shattered when Jaejoong slips and grinds out a loud, “Fuck!”
“Nice,” Junsu comments, returning to his previous position and closing his eyes.
Jaejoong settles beside him. Noisily. “Junsuyah,” he says conversationally, “how do you feel about handcuffs?”
Junsu cracks one eye open and sighs. “Did you get arrested again? Hyung will kill you.”
“Nah,” Jaejoong dismisses. “I mean like, sex handcuffs?”
“Sex handcuffs,” Junsu repeats.
“Yeah.” Jaejoong slides even closer to Junsu on the bench. “Ever wondered what it’d be like, handcuffed and completely at the mercy of someone else?”
Junsu rubs a hand over his face and stands up. “Don’t stay in too long. You’ll get wrinkly like a prune,” he says, and leaves.
X
“Junsuyah,” Jaejoong says, stepping out of the shower as Junsu brushes his teeth.
“Mmph,” Junsu replies, mouth full of toothpaste and bristles.
“Did Changmin show you the latest video he downloaded?”
Junsu pauses, then shakes his head slowly. Alarm bells go off in his mind.
“It’s got this chick getting spanked with a paddle,” Jaejoong explains, towelling off his hair. “Her ass was bright red.”
Junsu spits and blurts out, “Did she like it?”, before he can help himself.
“From the racket she was making, I think so.” Jaejoong shrugs and smiles. “Dunno if I’d be into spanking though. I haven’t got much ass.”
Junsu chokes on the remaining toothpaste in his mouth and straightens up abruptly. He knocks over the ceramic soap dish and watches, almost in slow motion, as it breaks in the sink. A shard rebounds and slices across the top of his left index finger.
“Junsu!” Jaejoong scolds. He drops his towel and reaches for Junsu’s hand, sliding the injured finger into his mouth automatically.
Junsu freezes, lungs constricting and the remainder of his toothpaste sliding awkwardly down his throat. Jaejoong’s tongue feels rough, taste buds raised and rubbing against his skin.
They lock eyes and Jaejoong sucks, hard. Junsu can feel the blood pumping from the wound into Jaejoong’s mouth and wrenches his hand away as if burnt. A smear of red shines brightly along Jaejoong’s lip and halfway down his chin. He tongues the blood away as if it were sugar.
Junsu turns and leaves, totally forgetting about the mess he’s left behind.
X
“Boo,” Jaejoong says, cornering Junsu in the hallway. Junsu feels his nerves unravel like ribbons.
“G-good morning, hyung,” he stutters. “What’s up?”
“Rope,” Jaejoong says. “Or shoelaces.”
Junsu blinks slowly, a lead weight sinking in his stomach. “What?”
Jaejoong smiles dazzlingly. “For being tied up. I mean, it’s more likely that we have shoelaces, but rope would be-“ he pauses, brow wrinkling in thought, “-actually, no. It’d burn. Ooo, no wait, again. Burning. Hmm…”
Junsu isn’t sure how to react; part of him is rolling his eyes at another one of Jaejoong’s tangents, but another part wants to run away from the talk of rope, shoelaces and burning. Very fast.
“You’re not tying me up,” he says. “No way.”
Jaejoong stops rambling and gives him a weird look. “I don’t want to tie you up.”
Junsu blushes and frowns. “Oh. Good, because-“
“I’d be the one tied up,” Jaejoong interrupts. “Preferably on my front, begging, wanting.” He presses up against Junsu, trapping him in place with strong arms and groans, “Stop, stop that hurts, more, give me more, don’t do that, oh, stop.”
Junsu, instantly hard and dizzy with heat, twists himself out of Jaejoong’s grasp and escapes into the room he shares with their manager.
“It’d be totally hot!” Jaejoong calls out.
Junsu ignores him, closes the door and reaches for his phone.
X
It takes five rings before someone picks up.
“Yoochun!” Junsu practically shouts.
A slight pause. “Junsu? Why are you calling me?”
“You have to save me from Jaejoong,” Junsu pleads.
“O-kay? Junsu, are you in your room? I can hear you.”
“…Yes. Save me.”
Yoochun sighs down the line. “Why don’t you just come in here and talk?”
“No! He might be there.”
Yoochun sighs again. “Then I’ll come to you.”
Junsu hears a door open down the hall and Yoochun’s unmistakable, yet slightly muffled, footsteps.
“Let me in,” Yoochun says, still talking through the phone line.
Junsu hangs up and opens his door cautiously. “Is hyung outside?”
Yoochun rolls his eyes and pushes his way into the room. “No. What’s the problem?”
Junsu drags Yoochun over to the bed and flops down, clinging to Yoochun’s hand.
“Hey,” Yoochun says, suddenly concerned. “What’s got into you?”
“Jaejoong wants me to tie him up,” Junsu explains.
“What?”
“He keeps talking about handcuffs and rope and spanking, although I don’t think he’s serious about the spanking. Not enough ass?”
Yoochun’s expression morphs into one of understanding. Junsu is suspicious. “Ah,” Yoochun says softly.
“Ah, what?” Junsu asks. “Does he really want me to tie him up?”
Yoochun shrugs. “If he told you that, then probably, yeah.”
Junsu can’t quite believe it. “But why?”
“Why not?” Yoochun counters. “Jaejoongie is not unattractive, right?”
“He’s very attractive,” Junsu admits, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tie him up!”
“He’d like it. A lot.”
That gets Junsu’s attention. He sits back and withdraws from Yoochun a bit. “I know he said he was an M, but I thought he just liked eating spicy curry,” Junsu says.
Yoochun laughs and ruffles Junsu’s hair. “Your innocence is kinda sick.”
Junsu bats him away irritably. “Is he serious about it? Why would he enjoy that?”
“Maybe you should ask him,” Yoochun suggests.
Junsu fixes him with a glare. “Yoochun. Does he get off on pain, or what? That’s kinda weird.”
“Why does it have to be weird?” Yoochun says. “And it’s not just about the pain, Junsuyah. It’s about the intensity. The feelings.”
Junsu exhales loudly. “You’ve talked about this before?”
Yoochun shrugs again. “A couple of times. It’s not that he likes getting hurt-“
“Then what?”
“-it’s about feeling something so intense that it lasts for days. Being allowed to feel how he wants, and pain is the best way for him to achieve that.”
Junsu shuts up, head reeling with the information. “I don’t understand,” he whispers.
Yoochun crosses his legs and smiles kindly. “We’re not allowed to be real human beings, Junsu. Not really. Not with this lifestyle. Our feelings and emotions are scripted for us. But what goes in Jaejoong’s bed is his own business, and no one can tell him otherwise. There, he can do whatever he wants and feel whatever he needs to feel.” Yoochun squeezes Junsu’s hand. “Think of it as a release.”
“But why me?” Junsu questions, pulling his hand free. “I couldn’t-“
“That’s something you should definitely ask him,” Yoochun says. “But imagine being able to give someone exactly what they want? That’s power, Junsuyah. You’d be holding a lot of power over Jaejoongie and he’d get off on it.”
The words uncurl heat in Junsu’s belly, a not-so-unpleasant shock of arousal. Power isn’t something Junsu’s dwelled on before. He’s not the leader, but could have been (for a few minutes, thought he should have been). He thinks of Jaejoong’s eyes - dark and round and half-empty.
Yoochun stands up and heads towards the door. “Think about it,” he says. “It’d be good for him.”
“So I should do it because it’d be good for him?”
Yoochun pauses thoughtfully. “Not just for him. I think it’d be good for you, too.”
Yoochun closes the door and Junsu, his eyes. The conversation replays in his head, stopping and starting like a scratch on vinyl. He thinks about his relationship with Jaejoong over the years.
Yoochun is more perceptive that Junsu would ever have thought.
X
“Hey, hyung,” Junsu says awkwardly, plopping down next to Jaejoong on the couch.
Jaejoong smiles brightly. “Good evening, dongsaeng. You okay?”
“Yoochun told me about why you want me to tie you up,” Junsu blabs, all in a rush.
The smile fades from Jaejoong’s mouth. “Oh. I see.”
“Is it true?”
“Which part?”
“Everything.”
Jaejoong pauses and Junsu immediately feels stupid, naïve. He doesn’t know how this works. He’s never met anyone like Jaejoong, ever. Their friendship hasn’t been the easiest and he’s suddenly afraid that the mark has just been overstepped.
Jaejoong raises his chin and looks Junsu directly in the eye. “Yes.”
Junsu is simultaneously relieved, scared and excited. He takes a deep breath and asks, “But why me?”
Jaejoong looks down at his hands. “Honestly, you’re the only one I would ask. Yoochun wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt anyone, regardless of whether they wanted it or not. Yunho won’t understand and Changmin, no matter how mature he seems, is too young.” He looks up, gaze so piercing that Junsu flinches. “But there’s tension in you, Junsu, I know it. You understand intensity. You wouldn’t be afraid to give me what I want.”
Junsu shivers, the truth in Jaejoong’s words is like fuel on a flame. “I don’t know how this works,” he says quietly.
Jaejoong quirks his lips. He looks suddenly sad. “However you want, Junsuyah. It’s your call.”
Junsu stands and runs shaking fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back," he promises. “But I need to think.”
“Sure,” Jaejoong murmurs, looking down at his hands again. “Whenever.”
Junsu leaves Jaejoong sitting alone for the nth time. But this time he’s beginning to understand.
X
Junsu lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling. He thinks about the push/pull of their friendship - Jaejoong always pushing and Junsu pulling away. In the beginning, at least. And then he thinks about Jaejoong’s words, and the way he sucked Junsu’s blood, taking the pain of the cut into his own body.
Something clicks into place.
X
He catches Jaejoong in the kitchen this time. “Hyung,” he says, causing Jaejoong to jump and nearly knock his glass of water over. “I won’t fuck you without lube. And condoms.”
Jaejoong settles his glass and studies Junsu seriously for a second. “Okay.”
“But I still don’t know what to do,” Junsu admits, fighting a blush, “about the pain thing.”
“I’ll bring everything,” Jaejoong assures him. “I’ll take care of it.”
Junsu nods. “Where? Not here.”
“Yoochun’s house,” Jaejoong says quickly. “He said we can.”
Junsu feels his eyes widen. “But-“
“When they’re out, stupid.” Jaejoong snickers a little and Junsu relaxes a bit. “I’ll let you know when.”
Junsu swallows hard, nods again, and hopes that his confidence won’t betray him.
X
It is twelve days later before an opportunity arises, both their schedules and Yoochun’s house becoming free at the same time.
Jaejoong tells Junsu to meet him outside the house at 10:30 p.m.
X
When Junsu arrives at Yoochun’s empty house, he parks up and rests his head on the steering wheel. The situation almost doesn’t seem real, and he can’t quite comprehend what is going to happen tonight. But Yoochun is right - it might be good for them. They might need this.
He gets out and locks the car.
Jaejoong is waiting by the door, hood and baseball cap pulled over his eyes. He’s wearing non-descript clothes, probably borrowed from Yunho, Junsu muses. There’s a plastic carrier bag in his hand. Junsu can’t make out anything from the outside, but his stomach clenches in anticipation.
“Hey,” Jaejoong says in greeting. He waves at the door. “We should go in.”
Junsu nods, not trusting himself to speak, and follows Jaejoong inside. He’s only been to Yoochun’s house once, and it’s so huge that he can’t help but feel tiny and lost. Not something he likes, and not useful for the role he’s about to take on.
Jaejoong leads him to Yoochun’s room and they pause outside. “We need a safeword,” Jaejoong says, pulling his hood down and taking his hat off.
“Safeword?” Junsu asks stupidly.
Jaejoong grins. “Yeah. In case it gets too much and I’m in real pain.”
“Oh.”
“What wouldn’t you normally say during sex?”
Junsu thinks for a second. “Yoochun?”
Jaejoong covers a giggle with his hand. “If Yoochun were to find out that he was involved in this, he’d never forgive us. Think again.”
Junsu looks around the hallway for inspiration. “Uh, lampshade?”
“Lampshade?” Jaejoong tilts his head in thought. “That’ll do, I guess.”
Junsu shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “So. Um.”
“I’ll go inside first,” Jaejoong says. “I need ten minutes to get in the right frame of mind. You should do the same.”
“Right, of course. Um, and when I come in…?”
“I’ll put everything out. Just do what comes naturally, Junsuyah,” Jaejoong offers, squeezing Junsu’s shoulder reassuringly. “You can do anything. I’ll do anything you want. Don’t stop unless I say the safeword, okay? Even if I beg. It’s part of what this is.”
Junsu steels himself. “Right.”
Jaejoong schools his expression into seriousness and opens the door. “See you in ten.”
When the door shuts again, Junsu leans against it and slides down to sit. He closes his eyes and gathers together every bit of tension from the past five or six years. Every glance and betrayal and throwaway comment. Every moment that Jaejoong was forced to be someone he’s not. Every moment Junsu was made to do the same.
Ten minutes pass like ten seconds. Junsu pulls himself to his feet. His shoulders are set, a different hardness in the way he stands.
He goes inside.
X
Jaejoong kneels in the middle of a wide double bed. Naked, head bowed, arms crossed behind his back. Beside him, laid out on the bed, are lube, condoms, shoelaces and a leather belt with a big silver buckle. Simple, nothing scary. It fits.
Jaejoong is silent as Junsu walks across the room. There is no indication that he’s acknowledged Junsu’s entrance.
“Look at me,” Junsu demands. He stands in front of Jaejoong at the foot of the bed.
Jaejoong raises his head and locks solemn eyes with Junsu. He stays silent.
“You’re going to do as I say,” Junsu says, no question. “And in return I will give you exactly what you want. Understood?”
Jaejoong nods and says, “Yes,” so softly that Junsu barely catches it.
“What?”
“Yes,” Jaejoong repeats, raising his voice.
“That’s what I thought,” Junsu replies. The nerves are stuttering to a halt in his stomach. He’s always been good at performing, years spent moulding himself to perfection for every audience. “Turn around,” he directs. “Don’t say anything unless I tell you to.”
Jaejoong shifts around on the bed and Junsu’s eyes are immediately drawn to the pale, flawless skin of his back. The only mar is the tattoo in the middle of his shoulder blades. Junsu makes a mental note not to touch there.
“Hands and knees,” Junsu says. He watches the muscles in Jaejoong’s body flex with each movement. Hurriedly, he takes his clothes off and climbs onto the bed behind Jaejoong.
Light glints off the metal belt buckle at his side, but Junsu ignores it. He focuses on running his hands along Jaejoong’s skin, nails scraping light tracks. Blood bubbles up beneath his touch and Junsu follows the lines of red as they appear. Jaejoong rolls into the caress and Junsu slaps him, hard.
“Stay. Still.”
Jaejoong gasps in reply and Junsu can tell he’s already struggling to stay put. He reaches around and is unsurprised to feel that Jaejoong is already hard. Junsu himself is in a similar state. He tugs on Jaejoong’s cock, just once, and half-smiles at the resulting moan.
“Did I say you could do that?”
“No,” Jaejoong groans. “I’m sorry.”
“Shut up,” Junsu barks. He picks up the belt and runs the smooth leather over Jaejoong’s flushed skin. Jaejoong’s arms tremble and Junsu guesses that he’s trying not to shudder and sigh.
Junsu remembers the first time Jaejoong told him how old he really was. He curls the belt around his fist, buckle tight in his palm, and strikes Jaejoong’s back with the flat side of it. He remembers the way Yunho was completely enchanted at first glance, and puts more strength into the next lash.
Jaejoong grunts and jerks with each hit.
The first time Junsu heard him sing, even though he smoked, and how kids stopped in their paths to listen. Two strikes, for the voice and the attention.
Jaejoong grinds out a snarl.
Not being able to be with Hyukjae and Sungmin. Four, in the same place, on the hip.
Jaejoong shakes uncontrollably.
The mistakes on stage. The humiliation and the lectures. Red welts, all over his thighs and ass.
Junsu unravels the belt, panting. The metal is warm in his hand.
Being in the middle.
Refusing to be the leader.
Drunk driving.
Broken bones.
Fake smiles.
Girl problems. Boy problems. Wanting to hurt himself. Selflessness. Hurting others. Too caring. Not cared for. Empty eyes empty promises empty hearts empty empty empty-
Junsu drops the belt, chest heaving and hands throbbing with deep grooves from leather edges. Jaejoong’s back is covered in a sheen of sweat and blood, bright red drops beading under peeled skin. He’s shaking, arms barely holding him up.
Junsu’s vision is blurred, sweat dripping from his own brow. Mindlessly, he leans forward and runs his tongue through the sticky mess of blood.
Jaejoong moans, loudly, and pushes back against Junsu. “Fuck me,” he rasps, “please fuck me, now, please, please-“
Junsu bites down and Jaejoong arches up and cries out.
Reaching out blindly, Junsu finds the lube and condoms strewn over the bed. His eyes fall on the shoelaces and an idea forms.
“Down,” he growls, pushing Jaejoong’s face towards the mattress and bringing his arms up around his back. He ties them together with the shoelaces. They rub against the open wounds, sure to make them stay sore and bloody.
Jaejoong is exposed, in every way possible, and Junsu thinks (almost drunkenly) that he’s never look so pretty.
He prepares Jaejoong slowly, torturing him with fingers and tongue until he’s begging, “Junsu please, fuck me, stop, just, please, I can’t-“
Junsu fucks him going on animal instinct alone. He watches the blood smear across Jaejoong’s body even further, the plaid shoelaces tearing at already damaged skin. Jaejoong muffles his cries into the mattress but Junsu is so far gone, so lost that he doesn’t even notice the disobedience. Everything is hot and perfect and open and Junsu feels every inch of Jaejoong, finally understands him and how they are and himself and then he feels it, everything tightening and pulling together in one clean moment of clarity and-
“Now,” he whispers, and Jaejoong comes violently, letting free all the tension in his body through shakes and shudders and jerks.
Junsu pulls out as he comes, cock pressing against Jaejoong’s red skin through a layer of latex. He makes no sound, mouth open in a silent cry.
For a single second, everything is calm.
X
“Junsu? Junsu? Junsuyah?”
Junsu blinks, feeling himself being shaken. He focuses and sees Jaejoong smiling at him.
Jaejoong, bloody arms and purple bruises beginning to form. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“You okay, Junsu?” he asks.
Junsu twitches and yanks himself away from Jaejoong’s touch. Jaejoong frowns.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m okay. I told you it’d be really hot,” he says, grinning.
“No,” Junsu whispers. “You’re bleeding.”
Jaejoong glances down at himself and shrugs. “Whatever, it’ll heal. Might need to wash the sheets though,” he muses.
“Is this, is this,” Junsu stutters. He can’t seem to finish a thought, let alone a sentence.
Jaejoong tries to touch his face. “It was perfect, Junsuyah. Thank you.”
Junsu pushes him away and stumbles to get off the bed. “No. No.” He fumbles for his pants and shirt. “Why did you let me?”
“Junsuyah stop,” Jaejoong says. “I wanted you to. We agreed.”
Junsu leaves, true to every recent conversation he’s had with Jaejoong. He ignores Jaejoong calling out behind him and takes the stairs at a jog.
He runs into Yoochun at the bottom and nearly bowls him over.
“Hey,” Yoochun gasps, grabbing onto him. “Slow down. Jaejoong told me you were done.”
Junsu struggles in Yoochun’s grip, desperate to get away.
“Junsu, what the fuck is wrong?”
He breaks free and trips, falling onto the floor, hands shooting out automatically. They hit the tiles with a loud smack and Junsu rolls from the impact.
There are bloody handprints left on the stone. Junsu stares down at his fingers in horror.
What has he done?