{pg-13} Stolen
Title: Stolen
Rating: PG-13? I suck at ratings, okay.
Pairing: Changmin/Yoochun
Genre: Romance, Comedy
Summary: Yoochun is desperate for some lovin’ and he takes up the challenge for one Shim Changmin.
Disclaimer: This is real only if birds can bark.
A/N: Second attempt at Yoomin! Longer fics are exhausting to write ;~;
Stolen
~1640 words
“What the hell?” was the most Changmin could say as he eyes a certain Park Yoochun, who was crawling feebly into his bed.
“Changmin,” Yoochun drawls out, eyelashes fluttering dangerously.
Changmin cocks an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
When Yoochun doesn’t answer, Changmin plops his head back on a pillow, book held erect against his stomach.
“Changmin.”
“Hyung.” Changmin flicks through the pages without looking up.
“Changmin.”
“Hyung.”
With an exasperated sigh, Yoochun snatches the book from Changmin’s hands and was about to throw it unceremoniously to the other side of the room, had it not been for Changmin’s quicker hands snatching it back.
“Not interested.”
Changmin makes his statement clear by slamming his book shut, turning to face the wall, away from Yoochun.
There’s the slightest shade of hurt in Yoochun’s eyes, which quickly disappears when he refocuses on Changmin. A pause - no, breath for a moment, and then, “You’re cute when you’re angry.” Yoochun slides his fingers under Changmin’s chin.
Changmin grabs Yoochun’s wrists in retaliation. “Stop, I told you already-”
“-that you don’t like this kind of thing,” Yoochun finishes for him, plopping down on the bed.
“Yeah.”
Yoochun laughs and ruffles Changmin’s hair. “The only way to fight the cold weather is through some lovin’, weirdo!”
“My soft comforters are more than satisfactory, thank you very much.”
Yoochun reaches out to touch Changmin again and -
“Hyung. I’m serious,” Changmin scowls.
Changmin looked cute and harmless earlier. Now, however, he reeks of potential cold-blooded murder. Yoochun puts his hands up - “Okay, okay” - and swings his legs off the bed.
*
It’s not that Yoochun was gay-
“Junsu, I’m lonely!”
“Get a girl,” Junsu says simply.
Yoochun mulls it over. With his looks and popularity, a girlfriend won’t be too hard to find. “That’s no fun.”
“Find someone who doesn’t like you, then.”
-he was just one sleazy bastard.
*
In the following days, Yoochun transforms into a Changmin sleaze machine.
He ghosts fingers over Changmin’s arms, hovers just a little too close when they’re talking, looks too deep into Changmin’s eyes and never fails to drop some grease.
Today was no different.
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Yoochun chirps as Changmin takes his time rolling out of bed and dragging his feet to the kitchen, all while muttering grudgingly. Changmin, who doesn’t notice or pretends not to, makes coffee for one.
With the effect of coffee finally settling in, Changmin spots Yoochun standing in front of the full-body mirror, clad in an oversized red sweater that looked all too familiar in Changmin’s eyes.
“Hyung,” Changmin began, “what exactly are you trying to accomplish by wearing my clothes?”
Yoochun locked eyes with Changmin’s reflection, chewed on his lower lip then darted his eyes to the ceiling, perfectly pulling off a deep contemplative look. “It was cold and I was wondering how far I’d have to reach to hold your hand?”
Changmin glares.
In an instant, Changmin peeled the sweater off of him, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Yoochun swallowed. Changmin jumped away in surprise.
“Fuck. Get some clothes on and never do that again, you freak!”
Yoochun scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish.
*
Jaejoong’s form of damage control was a boy’s night out, lots of alcohol, absolutely no rules.
For the love of all things dirty and perverted, Yoochun calls out for another round of tequila and offers to pay for it because he knows that Junsu’s show is nearly happening, and Junsu gives the. best. fucking. shows. when drunk. (The periods in between = necessary, because in drunken stupor, Junsu is fucking. hot.)
A couple more shots and Junsu shakily rises from his seat, dragging a half-dead Yoochun with him to the middle of the dance floor. Junsu curls his fingers around the belt loops of Yoochun’s pants and tugs on them idly to press their bodies closer together. Yoochun slides his fingers into Junsu’s back pocket, hips grinding up against the other.
As the two get it on, the other three watch from their seats, and Changmin whistles in approval. Yoochun leads Junsu back to the table (grinding and thrusting still in process), just close enough to swipe the drink out of Changmin’s hand. Changmin lets out a slow whistle, slipping a dollar bill into one of Yoochun’s pockets.
Then, hot air on Changmin’s ear as Yoochun whispers, “Shim Changmin, I will steal your heart,” before Junsu pushes him back to the stage. Junsu threads fingers through Yoochun’s dark, sweaty locks, slides a hand down his hips, and a tongue down Yoochun’s throat. He collapses into Yoochun’s arms a few minutes later.
Yunho shakes his head, stumbling under the Jaejoong’s weight (who passed out fifteen minutes ago), and motions for the other two barely conscious members. It was time to go home.
*
“Yoochun, stop,” Changmin groans when he feels Yoochun’s hand on his ass. “The key’s in the front pocket.”
“What, are you not drunk enough to let me fuck you yet?”
A sigh, and Yunho fumbles for his keys instead. He drags Jaejoong and Junsu to the couch and falls asleep right then and there, under the influence of exhaustion and alcohol and worry.
“But I’m more sober, I get to take advantage,” Changmin says in a matter-of-factly tone. He heads for the door with a kiss on the side of Yoochun’s mouth, soft and gentle and definitely mocking.
“Changmin, you - wha...?”
By the time coherent thought pops into Yoochun’s half-functional brain, Changmin had locked his bedroom door.
*
Changmin wakes up the next morning to find a sleeping Yoochun blocking his doorway. He decided on kicking him away at one point, but quickly changed his mind in kind consideration.
Yoochun stirs in his sleep as the sun peeks outside. Within the next few moments, Yoochun is rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, stands up, thumbs Changmin’s chin then greets him with a kiss.
“We’re like that now, right?” Yoochun slurs, then his legs wobble and he crumples to the floor.
Changmin disentangles his legs from Yoochun’s limbs, shaking his head without saying a word.
His insides tingled.
Well, shit.
*
Twelve hours later finds Yoochun in the balcony, taking a long drag out of his cigarette and flicking the residue off the tip, completely undeterred by Yunho’s speech of moral goodness.
“The point being?”
“Changmin is your friend.”
“Never stopped me before.”
There is a tense silence, and Yunho considers turning his back on Yoochun. The latter takes another drag and blows the smoke in circles, right into Yunho’s face.
“Park Yoochun.”
The voice is sharp and icy, completely devoid of Yunho’s warmth. The look on Yoochun’s face remains cruelly composed, and Yunho feels the deep desire to hit him, just to make him feel how this shit has been affecting the group.
“Are you fucking stupid?”
Yoochun glances away, replying with only silence. Yunho squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his whitening fists as he tries not to scream, the fear of heartbreak gnawing at his sanity. He regards Yoochun one last time, and turns to leave.
Yoochun paints Yunho’s retreating figure beneath his eyelids, wanting to reach out and tell him the truth: He's too beautiful and I won't let you take him away.
*
Yoochun fears the word alone.
For every heartbeat that he leaves in want of Changmin, the pain is a reminder of how much he has fallen.
But maybe this time he’s gone too far, kissed too many lips, broken too many hearts.
*
“I suppose there’s a lot you want to know.” The assumption floats between them.
Changmin shakes his head. “Just one thing.”
“You want to know why I want you.”
They stare at each other, burning gazes and dead silence in between.
“Because you’re hard to get.”
Changmin fights the urge to punch that pretty face square on the jaw. “That’s it?” That’s fucking it?
Yoochun moves in closer, let me show you, and Changmin doesn’t quite understand but before either of them could run away, Yoochun takes Changmin’s hands and placed it over his chest.
“You’ve stolen mine.”
“I-I... never knew I had it,” Changmin answers.
“Well now you do. What will you do with it?” Yoochun demands.
Upon realizing that Changmin will make no witty comeback, Yoochun softens. “I’m letting you keep it. Just promise to take care of it, okay?” He cracks a weak smile.
Silence.
But soon their lips are locked, an unspoken oath, sealed. Everything about it is awkward and really kind of silly but neither of them could seem to pull away.
That is, until Junsu walks in on them, squeaking “Oh. Right!” in fake recollection, bumping into pieces of furniture on his way out.
Changmin sighs, not really knowing what he got himself into, but not really caring much either. Starting the day beside Yoochun, fingers in his hair, breath above his skin, kissing him awake is something he can live with, and is way better than fisting rumpled sheets and messy pillows.
*
"Hey Changmin," Yoochun calls out, pulling a cigarette stick out of his front pocket and slipping it between his lips.
"Hn?" Changmin answers, watching as Yoochun lights the tip and takes a long drag.
"Do you smoke?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
"No."
Too late.
Yoochun catches him off-guard, kissing him full on the mouth. Smoke fills Changmin's lungs and he pushes Yoochun away, toppling over, wheezing, eyes red and watery.
Yoochun flashes a smile of satisfaction. "I've wanted to do that for a while now."
Changmin is practically dying from the toxic cigarette smoke, and all Yoochun does is pat him playfully on the back.
"Don't ever do that again," Changmin spits out, bewildered. Yoochun is almost crying from laughter.
It's ridiculous, everything about the two of them, but definitely something he can live with, Changmin decides.
End.
More notes:
[] Just so you know, I had this red sweater in mind. 8Db
[] Comments, concrit, and cookies make me happy! ♥
Rating: PG-13? I suck at ratings, okay.
Pairing: Changmin/Yoochun
Genre: Romance, Comedy
Summary: Yoochun is desperate for some lovin’ and he takes up the challenge for one Shim Changmin.
Disclaimer: This is real only if birds can bark.
A/N: Second attempt at Yoomin! Longer fics are exhausting to write ;~;
Stolen
~1640 words
“What the hell?” was the most Changmin could say as he eyes a certain Park Yoochun, who was crawling feebly into his bed.
“Changmin,” Yoochun drawls out, eyelashes fluttering dangerously.
Changmin cocks an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
When Yoochun doesn’t answer, Changmin plops his head back on a pillow, book held erect against his stomach.
“Changmin.”
“Hyung.” Changmin flicks through the pages without looking up.
“Changmin.”
“Hyung.”
With an exasperated sigh, Yoochun snatches the book from Changmin’s hands and was about to throw it unceremoniously to the other side of the room, had it not been for Changmin’s quicker hands snatching it back.
“Not interested.”
Changmin makes his statement clear by slamming his book shut, turning to face the wall, away from Yoochun.
There’s the slightest shade of hurt in Yoochun’s eyes, which quickly disappears when he refocuses on Changmin. A pause - no, breath for a moment, and then, “You’re cute when you’re angry.” Yoochun slides his fingers under Changmin’s chin.
Changmin grabs Yoochun’s wrists in retaliation. “Stop, I told you already-”
“-that you don’t like this kind of thing,” Yoochun finishes for him, plopping down on the bed.
“Yeah.”
Yoochun laughs and ruffles Changmin’s hair. “The only way to fight the cold weather is through some lovin’, weirdo!”
“My soft comforters are more than satisfactory, thank you very much.”
Yoochun reaches out to touch Changmin again and -
“Hyung. I’m serious,” Changmin scowls.
Changmin looked cute and harmless earlier. Now, however, he reeks of potential cold-blooded murder. Yoochun puts his hands up - “Okay, okay” - and swings his legs off the bed.
*
It’s not that Yoochun was gay-
“Junsu, I’m lonely!”
“Get a girl,” Junsu says simply.
Yoochun mulls it over. With his looks and popularity, a girlfriend won’t be too hard to find. “That’s no fun.”
“Find someone who doesn’t like you, then.”
-he was just one sleazy bastard.
*
In the following days, Yoochun transforms into a Changmin sleaze machine.
He ghosts fingers over Changmin’s arms, hovers just a little too close when they’re talking, looks too deep into Changmin’s eyes and never fails to drop some grease.
Today was no different.
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Yoochun chirps as Changmin takes his time rolling out of bed and dragging his feet to the kitchen, all while muttering grudgingly. Changmin, who doesn’t notice or pretends not to, makes coffee for one.
With the effect of coffee finally settling in, Changmin spots Yoochun standing in front of the full-body mirror, clad in an oversized red sweater that looked all too familiar in Changmin’s eyes.
“Hyung,” Changmin began, “what exactly are you trying to accomplish by wearing my clothes?”
Yoochun locked eyes with Changmin’s reflection, chewed on his lower lip then darted his eyes to the ceiling, perfectly pulling off a deep contemplative look. “It was cold and I was wondering how far I’d have to reach to hold your hand?”
Changmin glares.
In an instant, Changmin peeled the sweater off of him, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Yoochun swallowed. Changmin jumped away in surprise.
“Fuck. Get some clothes on and never do that again, you freak!”
Yoochun scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish.
*
Jaejoong’s form of damage control was a boy’s night out, lots of alcohol, absolutely no rules.
For the love of all things dirty and perverted, Yoochun calls out for another round of tequila and offers to pay for it because he knows that Junsu’s show is nearly happening, and Junsu gives the. best. fucking. shows. when drunk. (The periods in between = necessary, because in drunken stupor, Junsu is fucking. hot.)
A couple more shots and Junsu shakily rises from his seat, dragging a half-dead Yoochun with him to the middle of the dance floor. Junsu curls his fingers around the belt loops of Yoochun’s pants and tugs on them idly to press their bodies closer together. Yoochun slides his fingers into Junsu’s back pocket, hips grinding up against the other.
As the two get it on, the other three watch from their seats, and Changmin whistles in approval. Yoochun leads Junsu back to the table (grinding and thrusting still in process), just close enough to swipe the drink out of Changmin’s hand. Changmin lets out a slow whistle, slipping a dollar bill into one of Yoochun’s pockets.
Then, hot air on Changmin’s ear as Yoochun whispers, “Shim Changmin, I will steal your heart,” before Junsu pushes him back to the stage. Junsu threads fingers through Yoochun’s dark, sweaty locks, slides a hand down his hips, and a tongue down Yoochun’s throat. He collapses into Yoochun’s arms a few minutes later.
Yunho shakes his head, stumbling under the Jaejoong’s weight (who passed out fifteen minutes ago), and motions for the other two barely conscious members. It was time to go home.
*
“Yoochun, stop,” Changmin groans when he feels Yoochun’s hand on his ass. “The key’s in the front pocket.”
“What, are you not drunk enough to let me fuck you yet?”
A sigh, and Yunho fumbles for his keys instead. He drags Jaejoong and Junsu to the couch and falls asleep right then and there, under the influence of exhaustion and alcohol and worry.
“But I’m more sober, I get to take advantage,” Changmin says in a matter-of-factly tone. He heads for the door with a kiss on the side of Yoochun’s mouth, soft and gentle and definitely mocking.
“Changmin, you - wha...?”
By the time coherent thought pops into Yoochun’s half-functional brain, Changmin had locked his bedroom door.
*
Changmin wakes up the next morning to find a sleeping Yoochun blocking his doorway. He decided on kicking him away at one point, but quickly changed his mind in kind consideration.
Yoochun stirs in his sleep as the sun peeks outside. Within the next few moments, Yoochun is rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, stands up, thumbs Changmin’s chin then greets him with a kiss.
“We’re like that now, right?” Yoochun slurs, then his legs wobble and he crumples to the floor.
Changmin disentangles his legs from Yoochun’s limbs, shaking his head without saying a word.
His insides tingled.
Well, shit.
*
Twelve hours later finds Yoochun in the balcony, taking a long drag out of his cigarette and flicking the residue off the tip, completely undeterred by Yunho’s speech of moral goodness.
“The point being?”
“Changmin is your friend.”
“Never stopped me before.”
There is a tense silence, and Yunho considers turning his back on Yoochun. The latter takes another drag and blows the smoke in circles, right into Yunho’s face.
“Park Yoochun.”
The voice is sharp and icy, completely devoid of Yunho’s warmth. The look on Yoochun’s face remains cruelly composed, and Yunho feels the deep desire to hit him, just to make him feel how this shit has been affecting the group.
“Are you fucking stupid?”
Yoochun glances away, replying with only silence. Yunho squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his whitening fists as he tries not to scream, the fear of heartbreak gnawing at his sanity. He regards Yoochun one last time, and turns to leave.
Yoochun paints Yunho’s retreating figure beneath his eyelids, wanting to reach out and tell him the truth: He's too beautiful and I won't let you take him away.
*
Yoochun fears the word alone.
For every heartbeat that he leaves in want of Changmin, the pain is a reminder of how much he has fallen.
But maybe this time he’s gone too far, kissed too many lips, broken too many hearts.
*
“I suppose there’s a lot you want to know.” The assumption floats between them.
Changmin shakes his head. “Just one thing.”
“You want to know why I want you.”
They stare at each other, burning gazes and dead silence in between.
“Because you’re hard to get.”
Changmin fights the urge to punch that pretty face square on the jaw. “That’s it?” That’s fucking it?
Yoochun moves in closer, let me show you, and Changmin doesn’t quite understand but before either of them could run away, Yoochun takes Changmin’s hands and placed it over his chest.
“You’ve stolen mine.”
“I-I... never knew I had it,” Changmin answers.
“Well now you do. What will you do with it?” Yoochun demands.
Upon realizing that Changmin will make no witty comeback, Yoochun softens. “I’m letting you keep it. Just promise to take care of it, okay?” He cracks a weak smile.
Silence.
But soon their lips are locked, an unspoken oath, sealed. Everything about it is awkward and really kind of silly but neither of them could seem to pull away.
That is, until Junsu walks in on them, squeaking “Oh. Right!” in fake recollection, bumping into pieces of furniture on his way out.
Changmin sighs, not really knowing what he got himself into, but not really caring much either. Starting the day beside Yoochun, fingers in his hair, breath above his skin, kissing him awake is something he can live with, and is way better than fisting rumpled sheets and messy pillows.
*
"Hey Changmin," Yoochun calls out, pulling a cigarette stick out of his front pocket and slipping it between his lips.
"Hn?" Changmin answers, watching as Yoochun lights the tip and takes a long drag.
"Do you smoke?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
"No."
Too late.
Yoochun catches him off-guard, kissing him full on the mouth. Smoke fills Changmin's lungs and he pushes Yoochun away, toppling over, wheezing, eyes red and watery.
Yoochun flashes a smile of satisfaction. "I've wanted to do that for a while now."
Changmin is practically dying from the toxic cigarette smoke, and all Yoochun does is pat him playfully on the back.
"Don't ever do that again," Changmin spits out, bewildered. Yoochun is almost crying from laughter.
It's ridiculous, everything about the two of them, but definitely something he can live with, Changmin decides.
End.
More notes:
[] Just so you know, I had this red sweater in mind. 8Db
[] Comments, concrit, and cookies make me happy! ♥