Author's note:
Autumn Contest Yunho. :) JaeHo, which turns into JaeChun (as if I couldnt NOT include my fav pairing ;)). Angst and smut.
Life Trifles
Just over a year ago, when they were still relatively new to the showbiz scene and just began giving big concerts, they were always in high spirits after a gig. They would hurry backstage, adrenaline high and giddy, their hair and clothes damp with sweat. They all would keep smiling, hugging each other and other crew members, their eyes bright, feeling most happy at that moment.
They would feel as if the concert ended too quickly, as if they were able to work through another one. They would keep singing on their back to the hotel, never minding the sore vocal chords. They felt as if they could do everything, anything, as if they were kings of the universe.
As if the world was theirs.
But the illusion was quickly gone. It disappeared along with the feeling of euphoria, so characteristic for their early days. It seemed as if they were tiring quicker, getting annoyed by the stupid things, trifles, they wouldn’t pay attention to earlier. The usual hugging became more the habit and less the sign of affection. The make-up and dressing, which used to be an amusing experience, soon was regarded as irritating necessity. The feeling of comradeship, which kept them close to each other and allowed casual touches, made them suffocate now, and instead of goofing around like a bunch of puppies after a concert, nowadays they would quickly split, each heading his own way, seeking for the suddenly so much needed solitude.
They were tense, wired, always pushed to be on schedule, according to the schedule, always pushed to meet the requirements, the expectations; a blurring vertigo of places, they never remembered, and faces, they easily forgot.
They were burning out, falling down after climbing on top so fast, losing interest in what just a little time ago seemed to be their only dream in life.
“Move.”
Jaejoong sighed and opened his eyes. Before him Yunho was stranding, his face a mask of annoyance.
“What?” - Jaejong blinked at him tiredly, watching a drop of sweat roll down their leader’s temple, cross his cheek and disappear under the edge of his jaw.
“Move. Now,” hissed the boy threw his clenched teeth.
The elder boy felt the irritation rise in his chest as well, unused to being addressed so rudely. “Why?”, he asked, the edges of his mouth dropping in distress.
“You are sitting on my chair!”
Turning and looking at the mirror behind his back, Jaejoong could see the Yunho’s name and a small star on the back of the chair, he was currently sprawled on. Still not getting what was the big deal about it, the elder boy turned to Yunho and said casually: “Yeah. So what?”
He wasn’t expected to be grabbed by the collar and pulled up, the words yelled right into his face: “Get the fucking off my chair!” Trying to twist the leader’s hands off his clothes, Jaejoong yelled back at him, losing his temper at last: “Can’t you use some other fucking chair?! I am tired! And I am not standing up!”
“Chill out, guys,” said Yoochun, a bottle of water in his hand uncapped and half empty already. The others were watching two struggling boys silently with some kind of exhaustion stupor. “C’mon, Yunho,” The usually cheerful boy, looked giddy with exhaustion, the tension hardening the lines of his cheekbones and jaw. “There’s plenty of chairs there,” said Yoochun, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of the others empty chairs. He was tired and the stupid fight was getting on his nerves.
It ended quickly though, Jaejoong landing on the floor with a flat thud. For a brief second, Yunho stood over the fallen boy and much desired chair, panting, his chest rising and falling, and then he stormed out of the changing room.
“What’s wrong with you, guys?” asked Changmin, puzzled, turning back to his task of removing his make-up. And Yoochun watched the way the elder boy was biting his lips, as if trying hard not to cry, and thought that maybe neither Jaejoong nor Yunho knew the answer to that question. But there was one thing he knew for sure – it wouldn’t be Yunho’s bed, Jaejoong would crawl into that night.
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The ragged breathing was coming out the parted lips, the sweat tasted sour on the flushed skin, the vulgar sound of flesh hitting flesh ringed loud in his ears. Two breathes hitched simultaneously, in some kind of twisted harmony, as their bodies reached the climax.
The world was still spinning before his eyes, and the buzzing in his ears seemed to never fade, when Yoochun suddenly felt the body in his arms try to struggle free.
“What is it?” he asked, reluctant to be brought back to earth so quickly. Receiving no reply, he gripped the moving limbs tighter and said: “What’s wrong, Jae?”
For a moment the elder boy was still, then suddenly he started thrashing with renewed force. “What the…” After a period of brief struggling, Yoochun managed to pin the cocoon of sheets and lithe body to bed, the elder boy’s arms captured between them. Face turned to one side, the boy could only see a part of Jaejoong’s face, mostly jaw and lips, under the tousled mane of hair.
The bundle beneath him trembled, sending the tiny waves of pleasure trough Yoochun, his skin still remembering the feel of the other boy’s body under his. He nipped on Jaejoong’s jaw, whispering against his skin: “Tell me, what’s wrong.”
The breathing coming out in uneven gasps, the boy under him kept silence, his body betraying him a little: teeny shivers were rippling through him. Frowning Yoochun, wound out one of his hands free and reached out to brush the hair from Jaejoong’s face. The glittering eyes and streaks of tears on the boy’s cheeks confirmed his suspicions.
Yoochun freed his other hand and cupped boy’s face, wiping gently the tears. “What’s wrong, Jae? Speak to me,” he whispered, his lips almost touching the other’s. The elder boy sniffled, closing his eyes, and after a moment’s hesitation a single word, a name, was breathed out.
“Yunho.”
Almost instantly his body was wrapped into a warm embrace, and in the protective circle of Yoochun’s arms the boy poured out all his sorrows, his insecurities and pains. A gentle hand was petting his hair, and a familiar husky voice chanted: “Forget him. Forget it all.”
Later a mutual pact was made, signed with the ringing breaths and biting kisses. As two slender bodies writhed in waves of pleasure, it was hard to say, who was being held and who was doing the holding. The tears and sweat mingled shamelessly.
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“A little lovin’ from the oven*,” singsonged Jae, putting a plate with pancakes before Yoochun. He smiled slyly, stealing a kiss from the other boy. His elbows on the table, he leaned close to Yoochun, watching him take a bite.
“Like it?”, he asked, his eyes bright with mirth.
Lips curving in a smile, Yoochun leaned to steal yet another quick kiss. “I like you,” he said.
They seemed oblivious to everything and everyone around them, so engrossed in each other. They seemed not to notice the shocked expressions of Chagmin and Jinsu, and the way Yunho’s face darkened, when he saw Jaejoong scoop some cream with his finger and bring it to the other’s lips, the way Yoochun sucked at the elder boy’s finger, the messy kiss that followed it. And maybe they didn’t hear or pretended not to hear a slam of the front door, when Yunho stormed out of the house.
Two boys kept kissing, in spite of all prejudices and “do not”s, inspite all odds; they kissed while people around them walked, talked, lived; they kept kissing mostly because they shouldn’t have, partly because they mustn’t have and maybe a bit because they simply could.
If they couldn’t be happy, they could always pretend.
[footnotes] * Taken from the movie “Sweet November”. I love Brandon/Brandy XD
ended: 21/08/05