Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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Fic, DBSK, Love At First Touch

Title: Love At First Touch [Jaejoong/Changmin]
Rating/Warning: NC-17 for the inevitable endpoint of One Touch.
Summary: Changmin and Jaejoong show their affections a little different than the others.
Author's Notes: For the 2008 Nuna Holiday Exchange. Happy Holidays, Evangellie! Thanks to Jemz for the beta.


Love At First Touch

The first time it happens, they haven’t been SM Entertainment’s Dong Bang Shin Ki for more than a month. They’re strung out on lack of sleep and food and personal space, costumes too tight and hair spiked to the moon, and when Changmin says that Jaejoong looks like an extra in a bad bondage porno, Jaejoong turns around without thinking and punches him in the arm.

Silence falls at the slap of Jaejoong’s fist against the leather, and Jaejoong and Changmin blink at each other as Jaejoong’s brain catches up and reminds him that Changmin is his bandmate, not his sibling, is not like Yunho or Junsu, and that last week when he’d tapped Yoochun across the back of the head for a bad joke, Yoochun had burst into tears.

But then Changmin narrows his eyes and punches Jaejoong back, hard. Behind him, Jaejoong hears Yunho make an exasperated noise and Junsu snicker, but he ignores both of them and gives Changmin a shove. His delight at finally having found somebody to play rough with only grows when Changmin slaps his hand away and calls him a few more choice names.

Jaejoong stops when he catches sight of Yoochun’s face over Changmin’s shoulder, Yoochun biting his lip in uncertainty at their argument, eyes darting between them. Jaejoong leaves off from Changmin to throw an arm around Yoochun’s shoulder and start tugging him along towards the stage. Yoochun looks relieved and confused, but Jaejoong gives far more attention to the look Changmin is still shooting him, promising him revenge later.

After that, it’s easy to fall in a pattern of abuse, and even Yoochun soon becomes accustomed to it, enough to ignore them, after Junsu explains that it’s just how people with a mental age of five show affection. Changmin particularly enjoys riling Jaejoong up right before they go on the air, so that Jaejoong has no choice but to look like a jerk on camera, not that Jaejoong especially cares what his image is, abusing his innocent dongsaeng.

“You just wait, hyung!” Changmin wails, all pathetic indignation so long as the cameras are rolling. “Some day I’ll be taller and stronger than you!”

The smirk that appears on Changmin’s face as soon as the cameras are off prompts renewed attacks from Jaejoong, leaving Yunho to reassure more than one anxious television host in the wake of their early career.

The fights are certainly not limited to public appearances, and as all the members grow more comfortable living entirely in each other’s personal space, Jaejoong and Changmin’s shoving matches become wrestling matches after not very long at all. Either one of them has an equal chance of starting them, Changmin stealing Jaejoong’s spot on the couch when he gets up to get a drink, or Jaejoong ‘accidentally’ kicking the power cord to Changmin’s gaming console.

“Geez, can’t you two give it a rest for a while?” Junsu comments on his way by, picking his way around the squirming heap of them rolling around on the floor. They’d started on the couch, but it quickly had become too small of an arena to contain their struggle for dominance, and they’d crashed to the floor. “You’re addicted to conflict.”

But Jaejoong doesn’t think it’s conflict so much that he’s addicted to as Changmin rolls them over to pin Jaejoong’s wrists to the hardwood, eyes dark with pleasure and bright with victory, their chests brushing together as they pant for air so that Jaejoong can feel the hammering of Changmin’s heart in rhythm with his own.

He collapses on top of Jaejoong where they are, his latest growth spurt making him prone to sudden naps and victory making him tolerant of the way Jaejoong strokes a hand through his hair. He presses closer in his doze, nosing at Jaejoong’s throat, and gives a soft whine in the back of his throat when Jaejoong’s hand tightens in his hair.

Their wrestling takes on an edge after that, one that makes Jaejoong’s heart pound a little harder and his stomach flutter, one that has them pouncing on each other as they come around corners, one that has them constantly pinching or slapping at each other.

It’s only a matter of time before Yunho catches on, not that they’re trying to hide it. Jaejoong wonders whether Changmin even knows they have something to hide, although the way there are sometimes naps without wrestling would suggest that he does.

“You can’t play with Changmin like that,” Yunho says without preamble. He’s pulled Jaejoong aside, backstage at some event or other, into a corner near some scaffolding where the bustle of the stage crew will keep their conversation from being over heard. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Why can’t I?” Jaejoong holds his chin up, defiant, but Yunho crosses his arms and eyes him steadily.

“He’s too young for that, Joongie,” Yunho scolds, but it’s gentle, and Jaejoong can see the trace of regret in Yunho’s eyes.

It’s that, more than anything, that makes Jaejoong feel a cold finger of guilt and look away, but he doesn’t give up so easily. “He’s old enough to decide how he wants to play.”

“You’re old enough to be a better hyung than that,” Yunho replies, putting a hand on Jaejoong’s shoulder. Jaejoong doesn’t meet his eyes but heaves a grumpy sigh. “Aren’t you?”

“What moron made you leader?” Jaejoong grumbles, brushing away Yunho’s hand, although his fingertips linger over the back of Yunho’s wrist.

“Some other moron who didn’t want the job,” Yunho reminds. Someone yells for them, and Yunho flicks Jaejoong’s forehead before they head back to rejoin the group. Jaejoong’s ‘cool’ face is flawless for the rest of the day, and when he fails to rise to Changmin’s bait, Changmin slides off to pick on Junsu for once, effortlessly stealing Junsu’s role as DBSK’s charisma and tossing it back again, slightly used, once he’s through.

At home, the hurt that flashes over Changmin’s features when Jaejoong pushes him back by the shoulders only confirms Jaejoong’s grudging suspicions about what sort of game they’ve been playing. Jaejoong lets his eyes flick over to Yunho and back again to meet Changmin’s, and Changmin’s expression smoothes into one of reluctant understanding.

Jaejoong’s sure that Changmin has the details of his excuse wrong, but it doesn’t matter really, and he doesn’t bother correcting him. After squeezing Changmin’s shoulders, Jaejoong slides out from under him and goes off to hide in the work room with Yoochun.

“Why’s Yunho always right?” he pouts as he sits next to Yoochun at the piano bench, cheek against Yoochun’s shoulder. Yoochun just shrugs and says that if Jaejoong isn’t planning on helping him he should go cry all over Junsu instead.

It’s awkward for a day or two before things shake out, before Changmin and Jaejoong’s abuse of each other settles back into a more innocent pattern. There’s a distance to it now that Jaejoong doesn’t like, but resigns himself to. He distracts himself with the touch of Yoochun’s mouth and Junsu’s hands, with the comfort of sliding into hotel beds with Yunho, and tries not to dream too often of eyes dark with pleasure and bright with victory, of his wrists pinned against the floor and a heartbeat hammering against his own.

It works, sort of, at least until Bora Bora, which is when everything goes to hell. Yunho is sleeping off their recent schedule and Junsu and Yoochun are nowhere to be found, leaving Jaejoong at loose ends. He wanders out of their rooms to find Changmin sprawled across a lounge chair with a book, shirtless and long-limbed.

“Where’s Yoochun and Junsu?” Jaejoong asks, trying not to notice anything of interest either in Changmin’s state of dress or physical attributes.

“Probably making out on the beach again,” Changmin shrugs a shoulder as he turns a page, then looks up at Jaejoong over the rim of his glasses. There’s amusement and trouble sparking in Changmin’s gaze, and the heat that flares over Jaejoong’s skin has nothing to do with the island sun.

“What do you know about them making out?” Jaejoong asks, unwisely, but he can’t seem to keep himself from digging himself in a little deeper.

“I know that if Yoochun really does think that Junsu’s tongue is the best part of Bora Bora, then it must be love,” Changmin answers. Then he tosses his book aside and stretches, stomach muscles shifting under newly tanned skin, and Jaejoong decides that he’s had more than enough of being a good hyung, already.

The lounge chair groans dangerously as Jaejoong’s weight drops onto it, and Jaejoong echoes it as his nose lands in Changmin’s hair and he takes a deep breath of salt and sunshine and Changmin. The shift of Changmin’s smooth skin under his own makes Jaejoong’s hands tighten into fists, struggling to get a hold on himself.

“Jaejoong?” Changmin asks, voice low by Jaejoong’s ear, and Jaejoong turns his head to catch Changmin’s mouth with his own. The kiss is awkward, their skin stuck together from the heat, and uncoordinated, but the idea that Changmin hasn’t been practicing with anybody else only makes Jaejoong crush his mouth harder against Changmin’s.

Eventually they have to break for air, and Jaejoong rests his forehead against Changmin’s collarbone and hopes Changmin isn’t too freaked out by how hard Jaejoong already is.

“What about Yunho?” Changmin asks, uncertain. Jaejoong gets up in a smooth motion, leaving Changmin still rumpled on the chair, mouth bruised and open in surprise.

“He just didn’t want me taking advantage of you in your tender youth,” Jaejoong finally explains, then laughs with delight at the way Changmin’s mouth goes from an o of surprise to crinkled in annoyance. “Am I taking advantage of you, Minnie-ah?”

“Not right this second, dammit,” Changmin growls, swinging his legs off the side of the chair and standing as well, making Jaejoong’s breath catch again as he has to tilt his head back to see Changmin’s face and hears an echo of Someday I’ll be taller and stronger than you, hyung. “So are you planning to get on with it already, or what?”

“Inside,” Jaejoong commands, not sure whether they’ll make it as far as the bed or not as he pushes Changmin ahead of him, holding back a whine at how the heat of Changmin’s skin sinks into his palms. “My plans definitely do not involve that lounge chair. I need more room to work if I’m to take advantage of you properly.”

Jaejoong feels Changmin’s shiver and almost stops right there in the hallway, but at that moment wonderful, clever Changmin produces his room keycard seemingly out of thin air and shoves Jaejoong through the door of his room.
Their clothes are on the floor almost before Changmin can kick the door shut, and they collapse on one of the twin beds in a tangle, the heat of Changmin’s skin under Jaejoong’s hands nothing compared with the heat of his mouth. It’s like their old wrestling matches, familiar, each of them remembering the other’s weak spots, and when Changmin rolls Jaejoong onto his back and pins his wrists up by his head, Jaejoong arches up against him with a moan.

“We should slow down,” Jaejoong pants reluctantly, because as much as he wants Changmin, he really doesn’t want to steal his first time in a rushed, half-remembered flurry. But when he meets Changmin’s eyes, they’re dark with lust, and his grip tightens on Jaejoong’s wrists.

“After how long I’ve been waiting?” Changmin snarls, rolling his hips against Jaejoong’s. “Fuck you.”

“Please?” Jaejoong asks before he can stop himself, earlier thoughts of slowing down brushed away easily when he can feel the heavy weight of Changmin’s length against his hip. Want and uncertainty war on Changmin’s face, but Jaejoong doesn’t take it back, and then Changmin gives a dark chuckle and reaches over the side of his bed to rummage in his bag and comes up with a half-empty tube of lubricant.

“What?” Changmin snaps at Jaejoong’s raised eyebrow, cheeks darkening. “You think I’ve been sharing walls with you four nymphomaniacs for this long and wasn’t doing something about it myself?”

“I’m sure thinking about it now,” Jaejoong promises, chuckling low in his throat as he pulls Changmin down for another messy kiss.

Yunho is definitely going to kill him, Jaejoong thinks hazily as he helps Changmin slide slick fingers inside him, Changmin biting his lower lip and brow furrowed in concentration. Jaejoong moves against him, pressing down onto his fingers, making Changmin groan in surprise. He’ll just have to appease Yunho by telling him every single detail, Jaejoong figures.

“I won’t last,” Changmin warns when Jaejoong pushes his hand away and reaches down to help Changmin line up. He looks nervous underneath the want, and Jaejoong strokes his back in reassurance.

“Then we’ll go again,” he leans up to murmur in Changmin’s ear, making Changmin’s breath catch with a hiss, and Jaejoong wonders how long he’ll manage to last either.

Not long, once Changmin’s hot and thick inside him, and even less so when Changmin distracts himself by wrapping a lube-slick hand around Jaejoong’s cock and tugging. Jaejoong twists his fingers in the sheets and pushes his hips against Changmin’s, begging him to move, and when Changmin finally does, bracing one hand on the bed for leverage, it turns out to be Jaejoong who embarrasses himself most of all.

“Don’t worry,” Changmin reassures, curled along Jaejoong’s back and stroking fingertips in lazy circles over Jaejoong’s slightly sticky belly. “We can always go again.”

“You’re a brat,” Jaejoong says around a yawn, eyes already shut. “And I’m telling Yunho on you.”

“Tell me what exactly?” Yunho’s voice asks from the end of the bed, and when Jaejoong opens his eyes to grin at Yunho, the heated affection on his face tells Jaejoong that he’s already figured out everything he needs to know.

“That Changmin’s a little quick on the draw,” Jaejoong answers, his laugh wild and carefree when Changmin punches him in the shoulder, hard.
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