[fic] take care of you
rated: m/PG-15? for language/topic
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
Changmin’s eyes burn from underneath the bed-sheet. He feels exhausted. “Yunho, I’m fine.”
But Yunho is oblivious and ever so insistent. He huddles closer to Changmin’s bundled form, questioning him at an increased pace.
“Are you sure? How about a some water? Ice? Maybe… some chicken soup?”
Changmin groans. “Yunho I’m not sick -”
“Oh! I bet a bath would make you feel better… what temperature would you like? Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, I doubt whether the waters hot or not will help any possible internal damage-”
“YUNHO!”
Yunho starts at the sudden shout and falls backwards off the bed with a wince. Changmin grumbles from under the white sheets and pulls them tighter over his head. He rolls so his back is facing the other man; curling around a pillow and holding it close to his chest like a baby koala.
“…Changmin?” Yunho asks hesitantly, peaking over the side of the bed.
Changmin can practically visualize the straight white teeth scraping over a luscious bottom lip as the brunette sounds out the vowels in his name.
Changmin sighs in frustration, and rolls over onto his back once more. He forces his arms to his sides and tries to relax the tenseness in his body.
He will be calm. He will regain control of this situation. He will -
He manages about ten seconds of ‘inner peace’ before he rips the tangled sheets off his body impatiently, and sits up straight against the headboard.
Changmin tries to resist the pull, but inevitably his eyes find Yunho; who’s still half-laying on the ground beside the mussed bed. His arms are tense as they hold the weight of his upper body and Changmin’s white dress shirt barely covers his ‘delicates’ from the open air.
It seems not even the flawless Jung Yunho is invulnerable to the chill that permeates their Japanese hostel every morning. Changmin watches ardently, as what he knows to be perfect, dusty pink nipples, form hard nubs underneath the thin fabric.
Determined to keep his thoughts on other subjects, Changmin has to swallow down his instinct to rip the slightly-too-big-on-his-frame half-buttoned shirt off with his teeth; just so he can see those delectable buds harden before his hungry gaze.
He finds little to focus on but the half-naked body laid out before him, and takes his leisure trailing his steadily heating gaze up the mouthwatering specimen before him. Changmin is subconsciously licking his lips and just about ready to pounce when he stops himself; catching the slightly pained look in the Yunho’s expression as he squirms helplessly on the ground.
Alarm bells go off in Changmin’s head. He immediately leaps off the bed, bedsheets thrusted away forcibly; floating in the air minutely like a bizarre cape behind him. Changmin moves to crouch beside Yunho and hovers over his lover in concern.
“Are you in pain?” Changmin breathes, wide eyes filled with a horrid sort of realization that might have hurt him.
Yunho groans lowly, and delicately shifts so his weight no longer rests on his bottom-half. He turns to lay on his hip instead, and reaches up to grab one of Changmin’s hovering hands.
Yunho forces a gentle smile despite the burning in his spine. “I’m fine Min, you just startled me a little.”
Changmin laughs; a little hysterically, and squeezes Yunho’s fingers tightly, “I’m sorry. It’s just that… I… well, I just ‘fucked’ my hyung. My partner. My brother. I’m a bit dizzy up here,” Changmin groans, lifting a finger to tap at his own forehead.
Yunho’s smile turns saccharine and he laughs one of his ‘Ha-Ha’ laughs; the horrible kind that makes Changmin’s answering grin just as stupid, all his teeth showing, making his lips spread and his eyes miss-match.
Yunho presses a kiss to his own palm and presses it against Changmin’s cheek, “Made love Min. Made love,” Yunho corrects.
Oh yes, I just made love to this idiot who can’t even pick up after himself.
Changmin sighs adoringly in annoyance, and gently knocks the patting hand away, leaning forward to press his lips strongly to Yunho’s temple. He helps the leggy man up, and places him gently onto their bed, arranging the soft blankets to tuck against Yunho’s figure perfectly. He does such a good job Yunho can barely move underneath the mass of soft layers.
Changmin feels horrible that he had obviously done some damage after last nights ‘activities’. And to think, he was wasting their morning having Yunho be concerned over his mental state when the other was in physical pain because of him.
“Just rest for now, alright?”
Yunho’s cheeks hold a light flush. The pink fetching against his golden skin. He eyes were glazed from being intoxicatingly happy, rather than pain, thankfully, and the pure innocence urges Changmin to get back in bed and be lazy all day, cuddle the man to death, and perhaps, if Yunho felt up to it, resume their previous activities. The rational side wins out in the end, and he merely places his hands on either side of Yunho’s head, leaning down to place a kiss on the happy man’s mouth.
Yunho wriggles free from the blankets clutches, and intercepts him before their lips can meet. He locks his arms around Changmin’s neck instead, pulling down sharply till their foreheads bang together.
Groaning together at the accidental, pain, they stare into each others eyes for a few seconds, minutes; maybe hours; completely content with living in their own little world.
But soon enough, Yunho’s stomach makes an ravenous roar and Changmin’s gives a ansering moan as back starts to strain from his half-bent position. Yunho ignores his growling tummy to pull him down further and rub their noses together in a bout of eskimo kisses.
“Changdola, make me some of that chicken soup we were talking about earlier?” Yunho hums against his chin.
Changmin sighs for the millionth time already, and pushes Yunho’s cuddling face away with one hand, straightening to crack his back and flex his legs where’d they’d gone numb.
“Yeah, yeah.” Changmin says, reaching back to rub Yunho’s post-sex hair into further chaos.
He relishes Yunho’s answering purr of appreciation as he walks out of the adjoining bedroom.
On his way to the kitchen, Changmin tries to remember if he’d already washed the new saucepan they’d bought together on that variety program, or if he should just use their favorite ramen pot.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
Changmin’s eyes burn from underneath the bed-sheet. He feels exhausted. “Yunho, I’m fine.”
But Yunho is oblivious and ever so insistent. He huddles closer to Changmin’s bundled form, questioning him at an increased pace.
“Are you sure? How about a some water? Ice? Maybe… some chicken soup?”
Changmin groans. “Yunho I’m not sick -”
“Oh! I bet a bath would make you feel better… what temperature would you like? Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, I doubt whether the waters hot or not will help any possible internal damage-”
“YUNHO!”
Yunho starts at the sudden shout and falls backwards off the bed with a wince. Changmin grumbles from under the white sheets and pulls them tighter over his head. He rolls so his back is facing the other man; curling around a pillow and holding it close to his chest like a baby koala.
“…Changmin?” Yunho asks hesitantly, peaking over the side of the bed.
Changmin can practically visualize the straight white teeth scraping over a luscious bottom lip as the brunette sounds out the vowels in his name.
Changmin sighs in frustration, and rolls over onto his back once more. He forces his arms to his sides and tries to relax the tenseness in his body.
He will be calm. He will regain control of this situation. He will -
He manages about ten seconds of ‘inner peace’ before he rips the tangled sheets off his body impatiently, and sits up straight against the headboard.
Changmin tries to resist the pull, but inevitably his eyes find Yunho; who’s still half-laying on the ground beside the mussed bed. His arms are tense as they hold the weight of his upper body and Changmin’s white dress shirt barely covers his ‘delicates’ from the open air.
It seems not even the flawless Jung Yunho is invulnerable to the chill that permeates their Japanese hostel every morning. Changmin watches ardently, as what he knows to be perfect, dusty pink nipples, form hard nubs underneath the thin fabric.
Determined to keep his thoughts on other subjects, Changmin has to swallow down his instinct to rip the slightly-too-big-on-his-frame half-buttoned shirt off with his teeth; just so he can see those delectable buds harden before his hungry gaze.
He finds little to focus on but the half-naked body laid out before him, and takes his leisure trailing his steadily heating gaze up the mouthwatering specimen before him. Changmin is subconsciously licking his lips and just about ready to pounce when he stops himself; catching the slightly pained look in the Yunho’s expression as he squirms helplessly on the ground.
Alarm bells go off in Changmin’s head. He immediately leaps off the bed, bedsheets thrusted away forcibly; floating in the air minutely like a bizarre cape behind him. Changmin moves to crouch beside Yunho and hovers over his lover in concern.
“Are you in pain?” Changmin breathes, wide eyes filled with a horrid sort of realization that might have hurt him.
Yunho groans lowly, and delicately shifts so his weight no longer rests on his bottom-half. He turns to lay on his hip instead, and reaches up to grab one of Changmin’s hovering hands.
Yunho forces a gentle smile despite the burning in his spine. “I’m fine Min, you just startled me a little.”
Changmin laughs; a little hysterically, and squeezes Yunho’s fingers tightly, “I’m sorry. It’s just that… I… well, I just ‘fucked’ my hyung. My partner. My brother. I’m a bit dizzy up here,” Changmin groans, lifting a finger to tap at his own forehead.
Yunho’s smile turns saccharine and he laughs one of his ‘Ha-Ha’ laughs; the horrible kind that makes Changmin’s answering grin just as stupid, all his teeth showing, making his lips spread and his eyes miss-match.
Yunho presses a kiss to his own palm and presses it against Changmin’s cheek, “Made love Min. Made love,” Yunho corrects.
Oh yes, I just made love to this idiot who can’t even pick up after himself.
Changmin sighs adoringly in annoyance, and gently knocks the patting hand away, leaning forward to press his lips strongly to Yunho’s temple. He helps the leggy man up, and places him gently onto their bed, arranging the soft blankets to tuck against Yunho’s figure perfectly. He does such a good job Yunho can barely move underneath the mass of soft layers.
Changmin feels horrible that he had obviously done some damage after last nights ‘activities’. And to think, he was wasting their morning having Yunho be concerned over his mental state when the other was in physical pain because of him.
“Just rest for now, alright?”
Yunho’s cheeks hold a light flush. The pink fetching against his golden skin. He eyes were glazed from being intoxicatingly happy, rather than pain, thankfully, and the pure innocence urges Changmin to get back in bed and be lazy all day, cuddle the man to death, and perhaps, if Yunho felt up to it, resume their previous activities. The rational side wins out in the end, and he merely places his hands on either side of Yunho’s head, leaning down to place a kiss on the happy man’s mouth.
Yunho wriggles free from the blankets clutches, and intercepts him before their lips can meet. He locks his arms around Changmin’s neck instead, pulling down sharply till their foreheads bang together.
Groaning together at the accidental, pain, they stare into each others eyes for a few seconds, minutes; maybe hours; completely content with living in their own little world.
But soon enough, Yunho’s stomach makes an ravenous roar and Changmin’s gives a ansering moan as back starts to strain from his half-bent position. Yunho ignores his growling tummy to pull him down further and rub their noses together in a bout of eskimo kisses.
“Changdola, make me some of that chicken soup we were talking about earlier?” Yunho hums against his chin.
Changmin sighs for the millionth time already, and pushes Yunho’s cuddling face away with one hand, straightening to crack his back and flex his legs where’d they’d gone numb.
“Yeah, yeah.” Changmin says, reaching back to rub Yunho’s post-sex hair into further chaos.
He relishes Yunho’s answering purr of appreciation as he walks out of the adjoining bedroom.
On his way to the kitchen, Changmin tries to remember if he’d already washed the new saucepan they’d bought together on that variety program, or if he should just use their favorite ramen pot.