[Remix] Emerald Tiger, The Well of Ghosts Concert Mix
Remix Title: Emerald Tiger [The Well of Ghosts Concert Mix]
Author: Kubaru Suki (少年好き 配る)
Original Story: Emerald Tiger by Shinju Yuri (真珠百合)
Emerald Tiger, The Well of Ghosts Concert Mix
Jin Hyun-Woo had set off to take over the world. He had his voice, as graceful and cutting as a sword, and he had his looks-apparently girls went wild for the blond hair and the short little braid he kept tied into it-and he had his music. He was going to be the K-pop star that held the whole world in thrall.
Three years later all he had to show for his efforts was a big name in Korea, a scar on his back from a crazed 'fan', a hulking bodyguard who occasionally turfed him out of his house and made him go to work when he wanted to stay home, and the most annoying manager (and occasional lyricist) in the world. He'd have felt better about the whole thing if said annoying manager wasn't currently doodling on his back while fucking him. "What are you doing?" he demanded. The breathy moan that sex turned his voice into made him sound like a sex kitten and didn't do much for his grab for 'irritated dignity'.
Sung-Min, buried in him to the hilt and just sitting there, hummed under his breath in a faintly creepy way. "Writing lyrics."
"Well stop it and fucking move. Or let ME move."
"Not right now," Sung-Min said calmly. "I can hear Queenslayer when I'm inside of you."
"MRRARGH," Hyun-Woo complained. "I could have a manager that didn't write his magnus opus while screwing me."
Sung-Min ran a hand through Hyun-Woo's hair. He could feel the pen still in his hand even though only Sung-Min's fingers were touching his scalp. "Oh, I doubt it," Sung-Min said cheerfully. "You'd be surprised at what goes on behind the closed doors of pop stars. Remember the New Kids on the Block?"
Hyun-Woo threw an elbow back. He didn't hit Sung-Min but he did get him to pull back enough so that he could see him when he turned his head. "What?"
Sung-Min smiled. "And 'the admiral'?"
The pen left a long, deep-feeling score mark on his back when Hyun-Woo shoved himself up and off the bed. He stalked to the door and threw it open. "Ha-Neul, kill him," he snarled as he stalked out. "And make it hurt."
Ha-Neul-the huge, hulking, dark-skinned man who'd rescued Hyun-Woo from the fan with the knife and hadn't left him after that to the point that Sung-Min, of all people, had decided to start paying him to act as Hyun-Woo's bodyguard-put down his issue of National Geographic and went into the bedroom where Sung-Min had not yet had the decency to cover himself.
Ha-Neul was not going to kill Sung-Min and make it hurt. Ha-Neul was going to engage Sung-Min in a protracted and deep discussion of history and Taoist sorcery. Ha-Neul was going to play mahjong with Sung-Min for matchsticks, M &Ms and small amounts of won whenever Sung-Min ran out of matchsticks. Ha-Neul had the courtesy to shut the door so that Hyun-Woo wouldn't see this and gnash his teeth and make his dentist complain later.
Hyun-Woo stalked off to the music room with the bed sheet wrapped around his waist.
---
The ivory of the piano keys had warmed under his hands but Hyun-Woo didn't notice. He was lost in a song that had been inside his blood for as long as he could remember. It wasn't finished, only coming to him in fits and starts and grand bursts of notes, but it wasn't one of which he ever grew tired. Sung-Min called it 'Queenslayer'.
Normally Hyun-Woo played the guitar. Loudly. There was a part of Queenslayer meant for that, but tonight it was the sudden, quiet piano interlude that followed in the beat of his heart. Because it was that part, he didn't jump when warm hands landed on his shoulders. "And you left me because I could hear it," Sung-Min sounded amused.
Hyun-Woo opened his eyes and scowled at the keys in a half-hearted way. "I left the bed because you are a soulless asshole."
"Ah," Sung-Min still sounded amused. "But you knew I was a soulless asshole before you got in to it."
Sung-Min's voice was light but there was something serious in it when he said 'soulless'. It was there every time. So Hyun-Woo's voice was a little harsher than he meant it to be when he said 'Yeah, well, I just can't say no to your eyes," just to be flippant. Sung-Min had parti-colored eyes. One grey, one brown. Sung-Min liked to claim they were the reason record label big shots quaked when he stared them down. Privately, Hyun-Woo thought it was just because everybody knew Sung-Min was a nasty bastard of a man who happened to have been around the Korean music industry long enough to know everyone's dirty secret and was happily willing to discuss them-at length-in public.
Truthfully, it was something that Hyun-Woo liked about Sung-Min. It was refreshing to not have to put up with any more plastic smiles and industry bullshit than he absolutely had to. "Could you please not be a soulless bastard while we're fucking?" he asked.
"My, my," Sung-Min said. His words were humid against Hyun-Woo's shoulder blade and he nipped him there before continuing. "How cute and innocent you are sometimes."
Hyun-Woo drew in a careful breath as Sung-Min continued to nip gently at him. "I am not," he protested.
Sung-Min chuckled. "You are. Keep playing," he said when Hyun-Woo lifted his hands, meaning to reach for Sung-Min's own and put them to use.
"It's the song, isn't it?" Hyun-Woo asked, moaning as Sung-Min's hands found their own work, sliding over his skin, in a long line along his spine.
"Mmm," Sung-Min said. One hand mapped the expanse of his ribs and Hyun-Woo had a sudden flashback to meeting Sung-Min. Some dinky, sleazy club full of drunk perverts and hookers and Ha-Neul watching out for him and suddenly-as he played the first few notes of Queenslayer for a mic-check with his ancient, crappy Yamaha-a dark-haired man who had seemed to come from the shadows rather than of out of them. A hand slid under him and two fingers went roughly in and pulled him away from the memory. "If you stop playing it, I'll disappear."
Hyun-Woo tried not to scream as those fingers inside him drove deep. "You're an evil bastard," he panted. It was hard enough to hold still, let alone keep playing.
"You already knew that," Sung-Min said dreamily. "And yet you came to me anyway." His fingers moved deep and slow in Hyun-Woo, twisting inside him and twisting his insides in a way that he could never decide was good or bad.
"Fuck," Hyun-Woo swore. His hands were trembling but he could play this song in his sleep. The notes, so sweet and sure, drove him insane and he rocked against Sung-Min's hand. "Fuck, you bastard," he clarified.
Sung-Min chuckled. "How talented," he murmured.
Hyun-Woo ground down. "Yeah," he moaned. "I'm going to crack the American market any day now. Quit playing around."
"You're going to crack the world asunder," Sung-Min said, his hands suddenly hard on Hyun-Woo's hips, jerking him to his feet so that his hands crashed onto the keys in a thunderous discord.
"Please," Hyun-Woo would be embarrassed later about the way he cried out, begging. "Oh, fuck, goddamn it, please."
"Yes," Sung-Min hissed and Hyun-Woo braced for what he knew was coming. It didn't stop him from wailing as Sung-Min thrust in to him, hard and hot and intense.
Hyun-Woo scrabbled for purchase as Sung-Min took him in fast, rough strokes. The piano keys sent up jangled notes like tiny ghosts of the song that was still playing in Hyun-Woo's head. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted. He couldn't get a good grip and he couldn't move. "Sung-Min…"
Sung-Min began to whisper in his ear and Hyun-Woo writhed even before Sung-Min reached around and began to stroke his cock. How fucked up was it, he wondered, that song lyrics did it for him just like Sung-Min talking dirty to him? And then Sung-Min-who never swore, ever-said 'fuck' and it was probably part of the lyrics but Hyun-Woo came hard anyway, screaming helplessly as he did. He shouldn't have noticed Sung-Min shuddering hard and coming inside of him but he did and it made him moan even as Sung-Min slumped heavily against him and crushed him into…
"You made me come on my piano," Hyun-Woo said.
Sung-Min made a pleased sound. "Yes."
"It's going to stain."
"Yes."
"I'm going to kill you."
Sung-Min kissed the nape of his neck. "It's your own fault for leaving the bed," he said sleepily.
"I'm sure as hell not getting back into with you. Ever again." He glared over his shoulder as best he could. Sung-Min's hair was sticking to him and starting to itch.
"Blot it up with the sheet, rub it down with a banana peel, and it'll buff right off," Sung-Min said.
He was probably right, which was the most infuriating thing. "Why do I even put up with you?" Hyun-Woo sighed, reaching for the discarded sheet.
"I have no earthly idea," Sung-Min said.
Author: Kubaru Suki (少年好き 配る)
Original Story: Emerald Tiger by Shinju Yuri (真珠百合)
Emerald Tiger, The Well of Ghosts Concert Mix
Jin Hyun-Woo had set off to take over the world. He had his voice, as graceful and cutting as a sword, and he had his looks-apparently girls went wild for the blond hair and the short little braid he kept tied into it-and he had his music. He was going to be the K-pop star that held the whole world in thrall.
Three years later all he had to show for his efforts was a big name in Korea, a scar on his back from a crazed 'fan', a hulking bodyguard who occasionally turfed him out of his house and made him go to work when he wanted to stay home, and the most annoying manager (and occasional lyricist) in the world. He'd have felt better about the whole thing if said annoying manager wasn't currently doodling on his back while fucking him. "What are you doing?" he demanded. The breathy moan that sex turned his voice into made him sound like a sex kitten and didn't do much for his grab for 'irritated dignity'.
Sung-Min, buried in him to the hilt and just sitting there, hummed under his breath in a faintly creepy way. "Writing lyrics."
"Well stop it and fucking move. Or let ME move."
"Not right now," Sung-Min said calmly. "I can hear Queenslayer when I'm inside of you."
"MRRARGH," Hyun-Woo complained. "I could have a manager that didn't write his magnus opus while screwing me."
Sung-Min ran a hand through Hyun-Woo's hair. He could feel the pen still in his hand even though only Sung-Min's fingers were touching his scalp. "Oh, I doubt it," Sung-Min said cheerfully. "You'd be surprised at what goes on behind the closed doors of pop stars. Remember the New Kids on the Block?"
Hyun-Woo threw an elbow back. He didn't hit Sung-Min but he did get him to pull back enough so that he could see him when he turned his head. "What?"
Sung-Min smiled. "And 'the admiral'?"
The pen left a long, deep-feeling score mark on his back when Hyun-Woo shoved himself up and off the bed. He stalked to the door and threw it open. "Ha-Neul, kill him," he snarled as he stalked out. "And make it hurt."
Ha-Neul-the huge, hulking, dark-skinned man who'd rescued Hyun-Woo from the fan with the knife and hadn't left him after that to the point that Sung-Min, of all people, had decided to start paying him to act as Hyun-Woo's bodyguard-put down his issue of National Geographic and went into the bedroom where Sung-Min had not yet had the decency to cover himself.
Ha-Neul was not going to kill Sung-Min and make it hurt. Ha-Neul was going to engage Sung-Min in a protracted and deep discussion of history and Taoist sorcery. Ha-Neul was going to play mahjong with Sung-Min for matchsticks, M &Ms and small amounts of won whenever Sung-Min ran out of matchsticks. Ha-Neul had the courtesy to shut the door so that Hyun-Woo wouldn't see this and gnash his teeth and make his dentist complain later.
Hyun-Woo stalked off to the music room with the bed sheet wrapped around his waist.
---
The ivory of the piano keys had warmed under his hands but Hyun-Woo didn't notice. He was lost in a song that had been inside his blood for as long as he could remember. It wasn't finished, only coming to him in fits and starts and grand bursts of notes, but it wasn't one of which he ever grew tired. Sung-Min called it 'Queenslayer'.
Normally Hyun-Woo played the guitar. Loudly. There was a part of Queenslayer meant for that, but tonight it was the sudden, quiet piano interlude that followed in the beat of his heart. Because it was that part, he didn't jump when warm hands landed on his shoulders. "And you left me because I could hear it," Sung-Min sounded amused.
Hyun-Woo opened his eyes and scowled at the keys in a half-hearted way. "I left the bed because you are a soulless asshole."
"Ah," Sung-Min still sounded amused. "But you knew I was a soulless asshole before you got in to it."
Sung-Min's voice was light but there was something serious in it when he said 'soulless'. It was there every time. So Hyun-Woo's voice was a little harsher than he meant it to be when he said 'Yeah, well, I just can't say no to your eyes," just to be flippant. Sung-Min had parti-colored eyes. One grey, one brown. Sung-Min liked to claim they were the reason record label big shots quaked when he stared them down. Privately, Hyun-Woo thought it was just because everybody knew Sung-Min was a nasty bastard of a man who happened to have been around the Korean music industry long enough to know everyone's dirty secret and was happily willing to discuss them-at length-in public.
Truthfully, it was something that Hyun-Woo liked about Sung-Min. It was refreshing to not have to put up with any more plastic smiles and industry bullshit than he absolutely had to. "Could you please not be a soulless bastard while we're fucking?" he asked.
"My, my," Sung-Min said. His words were humid against Hyun-Woo's shoulder blade and he nipped him there before continuing. "How cute and innocent you are sometimes."
Hyun-Woo drew in a careful breath as Sung-Min continued to nip gently at him. "I am not," he protested.
Sung-Min chuckled. "You are. Keep playing," he said when Hyun-Woo lifted his hands, meaning to reach for Sung-Min's own and put them to use.
"It's the song, isn't it?" Hyun-Woo asked, moaning as Sung-Min's hands found their own work, sliding over his skin, in a long line along his spine.
"Mmm," Sung-Min said. One hand mapped the expanse of his ribs and Hyun-Woo had a sudden flashback to meeting Sung-Min. Some dinky, sleazy club full of drunk perverts and hookers and Ha-Neul watching out for him and suddenly-as he played the first few notes of Queenslayer for a mic-check with his ancient, crappy Yamaha-a dark-haired man who had seemed to come from the shadows rather than of out of them. A hand slid under him and two fingers went roughly in and pulled him away from the memory. "If you stop playing it, I'll disappear."
Hyun-Woo tried not to scream as those fingers inside him drove deep. "You're an evil bastard," he panted. It was hard enough to hold still, let alone keep playing.
"You already knew that," Sung-Min said dreamily. "And yet you came to me anyway." His fingers moved deep and slow in Hyun-Woo, twisting inside him and twisting his insides in a way that he could never decide was good or bad.
"Fuck," Hyun-Woo swore. His hands were trembling but he could play this song in his sleep. The notes, so sweet and sure, drove him insane and he rocked against Sung-Min's hand. "Fuck, you bastard," he clarified.
Sung-Min chuckled. "How talented," he murmured.
Hyun-Woo ground down. "Yeah," he moaned. "I'm going to crack the American market any day now. Quit playing around."
"You're going to crack the world asunder," Sung-Min said, his hands suddenly hard on Hyun-Woo's hips, jerking him to his feet so that his hands crashed onto the keys in a thunderous discord.
"Please," Hyun-Woo would be embarrassed later about the way he cried out, begging. "Oh, fuck, goddamn it, please."
"Yes," Sung-Min hissed and Hyun-Woo braced for what he knew was coming. It didn't stop him from wailing as Sung-Min thrust in to him, hard and hot and intense.
Hyun-Woo scrabbled for purchase as Sung-Min took him in fast, rough strokes. The piano keys sent up jangled notes like tiny ghosts of the song that was still playing in Hyun-Woo's head. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted. He couldn't get a good grip and he couldn't move. "Sung-Min…"
Sung-Min began to whisper in his ear and Hyun-Woo writhed even before Sung-Min reached around and began to stroke his cock. How fucked up was it, he wondered, that song lyrics did it for him just like Sung-Min talking dirty to him? And then Sung-Min-who never swore, ever-said 'fuck' and it was probably part of the lyrics but Hyun-Woo came hard anyway, screaming helplessly as he did. He shouldn't have noticed Sung-Min shuddering hard and coming inside of him but he did and it made him moan even as Sung-Min slumped heavily against him and crushed him into…
"You made me come on my piano," Hyun-Woo said.
Sung-Min made a pleased sound. "Yes."
"It's going to stain."
"Yes."
"I'm going to kill you."
Sung-Min kissed the nape of his neck. "It's your own fault for leaving the bed," he said sleepily.
"I'm sure as hell not getting back into with you. Ever again." He glared over his shoulder as best he could. Sung-Min's hair was sticking to him and starting to itch.
"Blot it up with the sheet, rub it down with a banana peel, and it'll buff right off," Sung-Min said.
He was probably right, which was the most infuriating thing. "Why do I even put up with you?" Hyun-Woo sighed, reaching for the discarded sheet.
"I have no earthly idea," Sung-Min said.