Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for DBSK breaking in Changmin.
Summary: Changmin isn't the baby anymore, and he's got it all planned out about how he's going to show that to the other members.
AN: I've been working on this for days and days, which is crap cause I have eight million other things to do before NaNo, but Yunho was difficult and Junsu only got going when I was the Sheetz. Really high-class, that junsu.
First Time For Everything
Changmin plans the whole thing out before he starts. It’s just common sense; once he gets going he won’t be able to stop the ball rolling, and anyway, he isn’t in a rush. He could be talked into a rush, sometimes, when Junsu wears jeans a size too small or Yunho wears eyeliner, when Yoochun laughs so that you can’t see his eyes, or when Jaejoong doesn’t hide the strength of his punches.
But Changmin holds back, takes it a step at a time until he’s pleased with all aspects of the plan, no matter how he considers it. After all, it takes some thought to figure out how to split his innocence four ways, enough thought that he wonders with amusement how much innocence he’s got left anyway after all the research.
The question of whether the others will want what he’s giving them never crosses his mind; Changmin only concerns himself with the who and the how.
On the other hand, he forgets how hard it is to get any of them alone, most of the time, and by the time he manages to catch Jaejoong alone on the couch, the others late at a radio show, rushing is looking like a better and better option.
“What’s up, Minnie-ah?” Jaejoong asks vaguely, eyes glued to the cooking show he’s watching with the volume off, but he gives a grunt of surprise when Changmin drops into his lap. His weight pins Jaejoong to the couch, knees digging into the cushions on either side of him, and he slides fingers into Jaejoong’s hair to tilt his head back before pressing his mouth against Jaejoong’s.
Jaejoong isn’t even kissing back and the feel of his lips still sends a bolt of want down Changmin’s spine. Changmin curls closer and wonders, with the part of his brain that isn’t moaning about how Jaejoong tastes of smoke and cinnamon, whether maybe he waited too long after all, and now he won’t be able to hold back.
Fortunately, Jaejoong does it for him, putting hands on Changmin’s shoulders and pushing him until he’s sitting far enough back on Jaejoong’s thighs for Jaejoong to get a look at him.
“Changmin?” Jaejoong asks, voice low and firm, examining Changmin’s face.
“Teach me to kiss?” Changmin says, hoping he’s hitting the right chord of curious dongsaeng wanting a favor from his favorite hyung, and somebody old enough to know what he’s doing.
“Changmin,” Jaejoong says again, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip, making Changmin’s fingers tighten in Jaejoong’s shirt. Jaejoong’s stalling, Changmin can see, which means he’s thinking about it. “I…”
“I came to you first on purpose,” Changmin interrupts, guessing that what Jaejoong is worried about is being the sole focus of Changmin’s affections. It’s such a sweet assumption that Changmin would laugh, except he doesn’t feel like laughing very much while Jaejoong is warm and sharp under his hands but not kissing him.
His stress on the word ‘first’ makes Jaejoong’s eyes widen, then narrow. His hands tighten on Changmin, which Changmin takes as a good sign, and he decides to press forward. He leans closer, testing, but Jaejoong doesn’t stop him, so he presses their mouths back together, squeezing his eyes shut so that Jaejoong doesn’t see the way it makes his eyes roll back in his head.
When Jaejoong slides a hand up to palm the back of Changmin’s head, Changmin feels flush with victory for a tenth of a second, before Jaejoong starts to kiss back, and every synapse in Changmin’s brain short-circuits.
It’s like One Touch, only One Touch has never made Changmin so hard so fast, Jaejoong’s mouth demanding submission from Changmin’s as he angles Changmin’s mouth open and explores every inch of it. Changmin groans, the noise swallowed by Jaejoong before it ever hits the air, and it’s all he can do to twist his hands in Jaejoong’s hair and hold on.
“Jaejoong,” Changmin finally gasps when he tears his mouth away, dizzy from lack of air, rubbing against Jaejoong anyplace he can reach.
“Is that all you got?” Jaejoong asks, sounding bored, and it’s only through long practice that Changmin hears the touch of breathlessness in his voice. “I thought you’d last at least longer than Junsu.”
“Fuck you,” Changmin growls, but he gets ahold of himself and sucks in a deep breath, then straightens up to take a long look at Jaejoong. Jaejoong’s lips are pink and puffing up, wet where his tongue darts out to lick at them, and despite his cool expression, his chest is rising and falling more quickly than usual. Through the haze of lust, Changmin smirks; even the oldest has weaknesses, it seems.
When Changmin closes his mouth over Jaejoong’s mouth again, he’s on offense this time, using the sharp edges of his teeth and his tongue to search out all the places that will make Jaejoong shiver. He tries to remember what Jaejoong just did to him and to use it against him, and he hums in victory when Jaejoong gives a sharp moan and clutches at the small of Changmin’s back.
It’s a Pyrrhic victory, though; when Jaejoong thrusts up against him, Changmin nearly loses it, giving himself away with a telltale shudder and an arch of his back.
“You little virgin,” Jaejoong coos, condescending, but he’s shivering too, and when Changmin lets go of his hair to reach for the zipper to his jeans, Jaejoong’s hands are right there too, fingers fumbling and getting in each other’s way.
Changmin is surprised once again when Jaejoong bats his hands out of the way and curls his own hand around both of their cocks, but he’s far past arguing. Instead he wraps arms around Jaejoong’s neck and presses their foreheads together, rocking his hips into Jaejoong’s touch and groaning at the slide of their cocks against each other. Jaejoong’s making a lot of soft noises, which are almost driving Changmin crazier than anything else, and he wonders if Junsu’s loud like that, if Yunho is, what Yoochun’s pianist’s fingers will feel like. He comes like that, not sure which thought pushed him over the edge.
But, he supposes as Jaejoong comes against him with a long cry, it probably doesn’t matter.
He tells Jaejoong the rest of the plan while they’re curled up close together on the couch, Jaejoong toying with Changmin’s hair. Changmin feels affectionate and conspiratorial, too good to get annoyed about Jaejoong wiping his hand clean on Changmin’s T-shirt, much better than when he gets off alone. He finds himself hoping he’ll feel this way with each of them, after, then wonders when he got to be such a shameless girl and whether doing it with Yoochun will make the problem worse.
“No wonder Yunho looks like he has no idea what’s going on half the time,” Changmin eventually mumbles, Jaejoong’s heartbeat loud against his ear.
“He was like that before I got to him,” Jaejoong insists airily, before he pulls Changmin up for a slow, deep kiss, and Changmin forgets what he was going to say anyway.
Junsu looks honestly startled when Changmin shoves him up against the dressing room wall a few days later, and Changmin spends a second savoring the look on Junsu and also being pleasantly surprised that Jaejoong kept his promise about not telling anyone else.
Then again, Changmin did promise to give Jaejoong every single detail later, and Jaejoong does love a good intrigue, so he supposes he shouldn’t be that surprised.
“Minnie…ah?” Junsu says, looking thoroughly unsure, and the uncertainly changes to downright panic when Changmin drops to his knees.
For the first time Changmin feels an actual stab of fear that not everyone will go along with this plan of his, and his grip tightens on Junsu’s hips.
Still, it is Junsu, and the panic ebbs away when Changmin slides his hands to curl them around the famous Junsu ass that everyone’s always going on about. Junsu’s hands land on Changmin’s shoulders, curling uncertainly, and Changmin rubs a cheek against one of Junsu’s palms until Junsu seems unlikely to bolt.
“Ne, Susu-ah,” Changmin asks when he’s sure he has Junsu’s full attention, tilting his head to rest his chin on Junsu’s stomach. He figures there’ll be plenty of time to play rough with Junsu later. “It’s okay, right? You can have my first blowjob if you promise to return the favor.”
“Okay,” Junsu breathes practically before Changmin finishes talking, eyes fixed on Changmin’s face, and Changmin holds back a chuckle at how easy Junsu is. “But you probably ought to know, to be fair, it won’t be my first one.”
Changmin rolls his eyes but does not say, as he wants to, that that’s likely the understatement of the year. Instead, he turns his attention to pushing Junsu’s belt and pants out of the way. It’s easier said than done, given the ridiculous get-up they've been forced into lately, but eventually Changmin proves with determination he can triumph even over electric purple vinyl.
Junsu catches at Changmin’s hair at the last second, and when Changmin looks up, Junsu’s chewing on his bottom lip.
“Are you sure?” Junsu asks, really looking at Changmin, and the nerves which Changmin’s been shoving down evaporate suddenly from the rush of heat Junsu’s concern provokes.
“Are you sure?” Changmin teases gently, resting his cheek on Junsu’s hip for a moment. “I’ve never done this before, I might suck at it, you know.”
“Sucking’s what you’re supposed to do,” Junsu retorts, the temptation of the pun too strong to resist, which is exactly what Changmin was hoping for.
“Well, I’ll work hard, then,” Changmin murmurs. The perversion of the familiar phrase they’ve all used innocently hundreds of times makes Junsu snicker and loosen up under Changmin’s hands.
Changmin figures it won’t get any easier than this, so he might as well get to it.
His first taste of Junsu is sharp, Junsu’s skin damp and musky from being confined in the vinyl, but after a second Changmin decides that he likes it and moves to swallow more of Junsu.
“Easy there,” Junsu pushes Changmin back before he can actually choke. “If you hurt your throat, the others’ll kill me. Here, like this.”
Changmin is somehow unsurprised that Junsu is the blowjob expert. His eyes flutter a little when Junsu works fingers into Changmin’s hair, and it takes him a second to realize that Junsu’s guiding him gently, moving his mouth back and forth in sync with the rocking of his hips.
Gentle’s not really what Changmin’s after, though. He’s heard more than enough over the years through closed, and sometimes not very closed, doors to know that what he really wants is to drive Junsu to the edge of his control, and then shove him over it. So after getting the idea of what Junsu’s showing him, Changmin takes control back and starts moving on his own, a little faster, a little deeper.
It’s weird, and his jaw starts to get stiff after not very long, but Junsu tastes good and is making a lot of cute little noises, and Changmin thinks he might like this a lot once he gets the hang of it, for its own sake rather than as the sort of perfunctory foreplay it seemed to be in all the ‘research’ he watched on his computer.
He gets frustrated that he can’t get Junsu in all the way, though; the clear moan Junsu gives when he growls about it startles him, and he flicks his gaze up to see Junsu watching him, amusement lurking on his features underneath the flush of arousal and the brightness of his eyes.
“Use your hand,” Junsu suggests, voice rough, and when Changmin furrows his brow, Junsu pulls one of his hands out of Changmin’s hair to demonstrate, pushing Changmin’s mouth back far enough to stroke himself firmly.
“Hmm,” Changmin hums, and that makes Junsu groan too as Changmin bats his hand away and takes over. He finds that taking Junsu’s advice means it’s easier to focus on exploring the tip of Junsu’s cock with his lips and tongue, so fascinated with the weirdness of the texture and shape that it takes a few seconds to register that Junsu really, really likes it as well.
“Min,” Junsu finally gasps, tugging Changmin’s head back. Changmin resists, still experimenting, but Junsu shoves him back until Changmin’s mouth slips off him with a small pop of lost suction. Before Changmin can argue, Junsu is wrapping his hand around Changmin’s and giving himself a last few harsh strokes. Changmin looks up and is caught by how Junsu throws his head back, cheeks red, mouth open, as he shudders and comes over their hands.
Changmin pulls his hand away and considers it while he sits back, wincing as he gets his legs out from under him and one of his knees cracks. Without really thinking about what he’s doing, he licks a streak of white off one of his fingers, looking up at the catch of Junsu’s breath.
“Shouldn’t I?” Changmin asks, still considering the taste; it’s bitter, different from his own in a way he can’t quite figure out, but then again it’s Junsu, and he thinks that he might not have minded if Junsu hadn’t pushed him away. Clearly further research is needed.
“Not if you aren’t prepared for the consequences,” Junsu growls, dropping to his own knees and shoving Changmin until Changmin’s back hits the floor.
He gets Changmin’s own vinyl out of the way with a speed that speaks of long practice. Changmin’s so hard at this point that it’s almost painful when Junsu starts shifting things around down there, but anything he’s about to say dies in his throat when Junsu finally gets his mouth on Changmin.
Junsu swallows Changmin practically the whole way in one try, and Changmin growls about the unfairness of it, demands to know how Junsu does that.
“Practice, Minnie-ah,” Junsu lifts his head just long enough to say, and to grin shamelessly, and Changmin is in the middle of vowing to himself that he’ll definitely learn to beat Junsu at this when he’s interrupted by Junsu doing something with his fingers in the vicinity of Changmin’s balls that Changmin has definitely never seen in any pornography, Asian or otherwise.
Junsu has Changmin at his limits in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and when Changmin tries to tug him back, like Junsu did to him, Junsu not only doesn’t move, but laughs, the son of a bitch.
Changmin lets go with a curse, fingers tight in Junsu’s hair and thrusting up in a way that the others would indeed kill him for if Junsu’s hands weren’t holding him down. Blown as his mind is, it doesn’t escape his notice that Junsu is more than happy to swallow everything Changmin gives him, and Junsu doesn’t pull his mouth away until Changmin’s shivers are fading.
“Hey,” Changmin complains as soon as he catches enough breath to do so, “how come you wouldn’t let me?”
Junsu flops down on the floor next to Changmin and wriggles close, not surprising Changmin at all with his transparent desire for praise and cuddling. “Not everybody likes it. Didn’t want to scare you your first time out.”
Changmin snorts as he lets Junsu crawl into his arms and scratches lazy fingers along his scalp. “Like you have anything that could scare me.”
“Big talk from the virgin,” Junsu mumbles, but his face is smashed against Changmin’s sternum, and Changmin feels good enough to pretend he didn’t understand a word of it. He thinks that if Junsu were to start making oyaji gags right now, he might even laugh, and he ponders, as Junsu noses contentedly at his throat, whether that’s the reason the others all put up with them.
“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Jaejoong says, and Changmin stirs and realizes that his eyes have fallen shut. When he opens them, Jaejoong is looming over them, hands on his vinyl-clad hips. “What were you going to do if Yunho or Yoochun came in here first?”
“Adjust my timetable,” Changmin yawns, stretching as Junsu shifts against him and presses closer. “Ne, Susu-ah, what about him?”
“Him you could probably swallow,” Junsu sighs sleepily.
“What did he just say?” Jaejoong demands, eyes dangerous, and it’s only because of the pesky post-coital affection that Changmin lies and says he isn’t sure.
Yoochun, though, Yoochun is a problem. Yoochun, and what Changmin has planned for him, isn’t something that he can do on a moment’s notice on the couch or by ambushing him in the dressing room. Yoochun needs set-up. Yoochun needs finesse. Yoochun needs romance.
“He’s just going to cry,” Junsu points out, crunching an apple as he leans against the kitchen counter. He and Jaejoong have appointed themselves Changmin’s co-strategists, no matter how often Changmin tells them the plan was finished long before either of them came into it, no pun intended.
“That’s what I’m trying to avoid,” Changmin says through gritted teeth. He’s sitting at the table with a jar candle in either hand, sniffing one then the other. “What about lilac? Lilac’s soothing, right?”
“Put those down, he’s going to cry no matter what,” Jaejoong counsels, barely even looking up from the soup he’s stirring. “All you’ll accomplish with those is the possibility of one of you being set on fire.”
“You two,” Changmin snarls, “have all the romance of Junsu’s used sweat socks. What do you think about sandalwood?”
“Minnie-ah,” Junsu reaches over and pulls both candles out of Changmin’s hands, “candles are for girls. Granted, Yoochun can be kind of a big girl sometimes, but I don’t think candles are your problem, am I right?”
“Is this really okay?” Changmin asks, letting his empty hands fall to the table. “Maybe this whole idea’s stupid. Just because you two are so easy, maybe Yoochun won’t want…I mean, what if he doesn’t…”
“Awwww,” Jaejoong interrupts, getting Changmin in a headlock and mussing his hair roughly. “The baby’s nervous! Don’t worry, Yoochun definitely returns your little crush.”
“It’s not a—” Changmin starts hotly, but Jaejoong’s grip around his neck is suddenly like iron and Changmin ceases struggling.
“Junsu and I love you,” Jaejoong drops a kiss on top of Changmin’s head, then lets him go, “and so does Yoochun. Don’t worry so much.”
“Not to mention,” Junsu puts in, still crunching his apple, “Yoochun’s at least as easy as we are.”
But despite their reassurances and graphic encouragement, Changmin still finds his heart pounding in his ears when he slips into Yoochun’s room and pushes the door shut behind him.
Yoochun’s in the middle of changing, but he turns at the sound of the door, shirt undone and hands on his halfway-undone belt. He raises an eyebrow when he sees who it is. “‘Lo, Minnie-ah,” he greets amiably. “If you came to borrow Jaejoong’s Mr.Children T-shirt again, I think you ought to know that he’s threatened to disembowel whoever got chocolate chip stains on it last time.”
“No,” Changmin licks his dry lips, “it isn’t that.” There another second of silence, Yoochun watching Changmin patiently, before Changmin straightens his spine and asks, “Do you trust me, Chunnie-ah?”
Yoochun opens his mouth to say something flip, but then he looks at Changmin a little harder, and Changmin can see in his face when Yoochun realizes that something serious is going on. “Of course I do. What’s up?”
Changmin crosses the space between them in two long strides, brings his hands up to palm Yoochun’s face, tilting his head up. Yoochun’s expression of confusion melts as Changmin strokes thumbs over Yoochun’s cheekbones, changes into surprise and worry, but it’s the heat underneath that makes Changmin’s heart pound even louder, keeps him from bolting and pretending this never happened.
“Yoochun-ah?” Changmin gives Yoochun the chance to back out, figures that Yoochun ought to at least know what he’s getting into. “I want you, hyung. Is that okay?”
A shiver runs through Yoochun at Changmin’s question, makes his eyes flutter shut for a second, and when they open again, there’s nothing but heat and love in them. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, and Changmin realizes that all the time he’s been thinking about what he’ll give each of them, he’s never really thought about what he’ll get in return.
“If I’m what you want, Minnie-ah,” Yoochun says softly, tilting his head to rub his cheek along Changmin’s palm, “if you’re sure…”
“All of you,” Changmin rushes to reassure, wants to make sure Yoochun has it right, “it’s all of you I want. But you, if you’d let me, I wanted…”
Changmin cuts off and shakes his head, frustrated with his own embarrassment at having to say the words out loud. He’s sure that Yoochun won’t take him seriously, hell, he wouldn’t take himself seriously, and his breath catches in his throat when Yoochun stretches up to press their mouths together, gentle and slow.
When he pulls away, he meets Changmin’s gaze steadily, and Changmin tries to swallow his heart back down into his chest from where it’s crawled up into his throat.
“You want me?” Yoochun asks, giving a little roll of his hips that makes Changmin’s eyes flutter. “First?” he clarifies, and Changmin nods. “Not Jaejoong or Junsu? Why?”
Changmin neither tells the full truth, which is that he’s sure Yoochun won’t laugh at him when he embarrasses himself utterly the first time out, nor asks why Yoochun left Yunho off his list. Instead he drops his eyes to the side, all abashed dongsaeng, and says, “Because the crush on you came first.”
“Me?” Yoochun laughs, and Changmin wonders if he really didn’t know. “Is that true? No, don’t answer that,” Yoochun interrupts when Changmin opens his mouth. “I like the idea of it. Kiss me instead.”
Changmin does, glad for instruction, catches Yoochun’s mouth with his own. The kiss is harder than the last one, a little rougher from Changmin’s nerves, but Yoochun soothes him by sliding arms around Changmin’s waist and pressing close.
Yoochun lets Changmin finish undressing him, and if he notices the way Changmin’s hands are shaking slightly, he doesn’t say anything. Somehow they end up on Yoochun’s bed, the details of it a blur when Changmin tries to recall them later, both of them on their sides and Changmin running hands over Yoochun’s skin with a leisure that he hasn’t experienced with either Junsu or Jaejoong.
“I am not stalling,” he grumbles when Yoochun teases him about it, but it’s hard to be annoyed about it when Yoochun’s watching him through heavy-lidded eyes. Maybe he is, a little, but it’s more that Yoochun doesn’t seem in a rush, that Yoochun leans or lifts into all Changmin’s touches, that the thorough attention seems to suit him. Changmin can’t help but experiment to see where else he can graze his fingers to make Yoochun sigh, where the brush of his palm will earn another low hum.
By the time Yoochun says, “Okay, enough,” and draws Changmin up for another kiss, they’re both flushed and hard, and Changmin’s almost ready to give up his original plan to go on making out, would be more than okay with either Yoochun’s hand or mouth. But Yoochun asks against Changmin’s mouth if he still wants to, and after a second, Changmin nods.
All his self-assurance flies out the window, though, when he’s sitting between Yoochun’s spread legs with a tube of lubricant.
“It’s not rocket science,” Yoochun assures, the amusement in his voice putting some fire back in Changmin’s gaze.
Somehow they get one, then two of Changmin’s fingers inside of Yoochun, Changmin’s breath catching at the heat and the squeeze of it, and it’s only the fact that he knows he’s smarter than Junsu that keeps Changmin from insisting that this is impossible and crazy, that there’s no way he or anybody else could fit inside Yoochun.
But he keeps doing what Yoochun tells him, in that low and patient voice that’s sending shivers up Changmin’s spine, and finally Yoochun is telling him it’s enough and rolling a condom onto him and asking which way Changmin wants him.
“I…” it takes Changmin a moment to realize Yoochun’s asking about positions, but honestly Changmin hadn’t thought through the options. “Like this? Can we?”
“Good,” Yoochun smiles, the warmth of it making Changmin give a choked-off groan, and he pulls Changmin down with arms around his neck. “Because I definitely want to kiss you some more.”
It’s a little awkward, trying to line himself up and push forward while he’s distracted by Yoochun’s mouth and hands, but somehow Changmin manages it, and it’s awkward but really, really good, Yoochun opening up for him in a way that Changmin feels can only be described as a miracle.
As predicted, it’s a little too good.
“Yoochun,” Changmin says wretchedly, dropping his forehead to press against Yoochun’s shoulder, cheeks burning and shaking all over, and the worst part is the wave of hot tears Changmin can feel rising in his throat, also unstoppable.
“Shh, it’s fine,” Yoochun assures, stroking Changmin’s back. “Don’t move, just stay there. I’d’ve had to tell you to stop for a minute anyway.”
It sinks in, past Changmin’s mortification, that Yoochun’s voice is a bit strained. Changmin tries not to sniffle too loudly. “You aren’t going to tell them that I cried before you did, are you?”
“Who says you did?” Yoochun asks, and Changmin lifts his head with a frown. Sure enough, Yoochun’s eyes are glassy, and there’s a tear track trailing into the damp hair at his temple. “Don’t worry about it,” Yoochun insists when Changmin’s eyes widen in concern.
“Am I hurting you?” Changmin demands, embarrassment forgotten.
“I said don’t worry,” Yoochun repeats. “Kiss me instead.”
Changmin does, even though he doesn’t stop worrying really, about how he’s clearly doing it all wrong. But somehow Yoochun’s mouth chases away the worst of it, the stroke of Yoochun’s hand in his hair and down his back warm and encouraging, and eventually Changmin realizes that he’s hard again and that he’s rocking against Yoochun.
“Hey,” Yoochun cracks an eye when surprise halts Changmin’s hips. “Don’t stop, idiot.”
“But,” Changmin frowns again, pushing himself up onto his hands to look Yoochun over, “I’m…aren’t you…”
“You do know this feels good, right?” Yoochun asks, sliding his hands low enough to curve around Changmin’s ass, pushing and pulling him where he wants him. “I just need a minute, at first. It’s fine now, you won’t hurt me.”
Changmin gives a dubious thrust, then nearly loses his balance when Yoochun gives an impatient growl and shoves down against him.
“I just said, harder,” he demands, and Changmin curses in wonder when he shoves back, and Yoochun’s head falls back on a moan. Yoochun’s still holding onto Changmin’s ass, and he moves Changmin a little, changing the angle, until suddenly the end of a thrust has Yoochun clutching at Changmin tight enough to bruise.
“There?” Changmin asks, unnecessarily, because Yoochun’s already letting go of him to shove a hand in between them and jerking himself in rough strokes.
“Don’t stop,” Yoochun moans, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, “or I’ll tell Jaejoong about his shirt,” and Changmin would laugh if he had any breath to do so, or could think about anything besides snapping his hips into Yoochun’s tight heat.
And then Yoochun’s coming, the pressure around Changmin increasing until it’s unbearable, dragging a second orgasm out of Changmin too soon, so that it would probably hurt if it didn’t feel so ridiculously amazing.
Changmin collapses in a sweaty heap on top of Yoochun, but thankfully Yoochun doesn’t seem to mind. Nor does Yoochun mind when Changmin can’t hold back another wave of tears, everything seeming too bright and sensitive, too much when Yoochun helps ease him out and a sense of loneliness closes Changmin’s throat for a second.
It’s better, or at least bearable, when Yoochun pulls Changmin tight against his side, throws the blankets over both of them and wraps arms around Changmin like he can’t be close enough either.
“Is it always like that?” Changmin asks, voice muffled against Yoochun’s chest and contemplating never facing the outside world again.
“No,” Yoochun answers, and before he finishes his sentence, Changmin can’t decide whether the answer makes him happy or sad, “usually I’m the only one who cries.”
“I should have liked Jaejoong first,” Changmin complains, but he lets Yoochun kiss him anyway.
There’s an unintended hiccup in the final stage of Changmin’s plans, which is that it’s next to impossible to get Yunho alone and also conscious, given their schedule. As a result, it’s almost a week before Changmin finally blackmails Junsu into making himself disappear from Yunho’s hotel room for the night.
A random hotel in Hokkaido was not the setting Changmin had in mind for his endgame, but at this point he feels like he’s going to go out of his skin if he has to wait one second longer. Which is of course why Yunho gets hung up in a meeting and doesn’t get back to the hotel until nearly midnight.
At the first sound of the door handle, Changmin tosses aside the book he’s been failing to read for the last hour and sits up. Yunho opens the door just far enough to stick his head in, obviously about to apologize, then sees Changmin waiting for him and comes the rest of the way into the room.
“So much for Junsu,” Yunho chuckles, kicking off his shoes and dropping his jacket onto the chair. “I was starting to wonder if maybe I wasn’t on your list.”
“Who told you?” Changmin blurts without thinking, then immediately scowls at himself in annoyance, because of course Yunho wouldn’t need somebody to tell him.
“It’s my job as Leader to know all your secrets,” Yunho says lightly, coming to sit beside Changmin on the end of his bed, but Changmin sees relief in his eyes when he gets close enough, and a wave of shame washes through him that Yunho thought even for a second that Changmin hadn’t wanted him.
“I’m…” he starts to apologize, but Yunho interrupts.
“If you want to make it up to me,” he says, reaching over to ruffle Changmin’s hair, “you could always show me what you learned.”
“What I learned,” Changmin repeats, raising an eyebrow. Yunho hums a yes, his hand coming to rest on the back of Changmin’s neck, fingertips rubbing little circles against Changmin’s scalp. “Well…”
Changmin leans over to kiss Yunho. He shivers at the first brush of their mouths, nerves strung tight with the wait and his plan and the fact that it’s Yunho. Yunho must feel it, because he murmurs, “Relax,” against Changmin’s mouth, and Changmin takes a deep breath to steady himself before sliding even closer.
After a second, it’s still not close enough, and Changmin stands, breaking the kiss for just long enough to crawl into Yunho’s lap, knees settling on either side of Yunho’s thighs. He palms Yunho’s cheeks to tilt his head up for a better angle, but there’s a pause as Yunho’s eyes meet Changmin’s, and Changmin’s breath catches at the heat in them.
Changmin’s eyes must look the same, because Yunho gives a hissed breath, and when he speaks, his voice is low and soft. “It’s a good thing you didn’t look at me like that when you were sixteen, Minnie-ah.”
“You’re the one who wasn’t looking,” Changmin answers, then crushes his mouth down on Yunho’s before Yunho can think fully about his confession.
He focuses on the kiss, on exploring Yunho’s mouth like he’ll have a quiz on it later, on the way Yunho’s tongue curls against his own and how he’s got one hand in Changmin’s hair and the other clutching tightly at Changmin’s waist.
“Hmm,” Yunho says when Changmin pulls back just enough to breathe, “you learned that from Jaejoong.”
“Guess you aren’t Leader-sshi for nothing,” Changmin answers, heady on the feel of Yunho rocking gently against him and the way his lips taste of Yunho when he licks them. “Want to guess some more?”
“I’m game if you are,” Yunho counters. This new side of Yunho, teasing and uninhibited, makes Changmin’s fingers curl tighter in Yunho’s shirt, makes him lean in for another kiss. It goes on longer than Changmin intends, and he’s more than a little out-of-breath by the time he slides off Yunho’s lap, to the floor between his legs.
As Changmin pulls Yunho’s belt free, Yunho doesn’t help at all, just leans back on his hands to watch with sharp eyes, lifting his hips just enough for Changmin to slide his pants and underwear out of the way. He does, however, get a hand back in Changmin’s hair at the first touch of Changmin’s mouth to his cock, not pushing, but just letting it rest there, a warm weight against Changmin’s scalp.
Yunho is hot against Changmin’s tongue, different than Junsu, and Changmin explores the differences with interest, until Yunho’s fingers are tight in his hair, and Yunho’s low moan makes Changmin glad they really aren’t at home, because he’d undoubtedly be hearing about that until the end of time.
“Junsu,” Yunho finally chuckles, pulling Changmin up from his knees and tugging him onto the bed. Yunho rolls them over until he can grind down against Changmin in earnest, pushing Changmin’s shirt up to get his hands underneath it. He steals another hard kiss before asking, “You gonna show me what you learned from Yoochun next?”
“I was hoping,” Changmin’s throat feels suddenly dry and his heart is back to pounding in his ears, “that if I pretended I was Yoochun, you’d be interested in pretending to be me.”
Changmin’s gambling that Yunho really will know everything, saving him from really explaining what he wants, and his fingers tighten on Yunho’s biceps when Yunho stares down without answering at first.
“Changmin-ah,” he finally says, “you don’t have to…”
“I want to,” Changmin interrupts. “I want you, Leader-sshi.”
He can see the shiver run through Yunho, see the way his eyes flutter shut for a second, and when Yunho opens them again, it’s the restraint in them that makes Changmin sure it’s the right choice.
“Yunho-ah,” Changmin tries to let his certainty show in his face, willing Yunho to believe him, “I want you.”
“Okay, okay,” Yunho says, his laugh rich, “I get it,” and he lets his weight fall on Changmin, mouth searching out Changmin’s for another deep kiss.
It’s a relief to let somebody else take the lead after everything else, and Changmin puts effort only into running hands over Yunho’s skin and meeting his kisses as Yunho strips off Changmin’s clothes along with the rest of his. Yunho urges Changmin back against the pillows, laughs wryly when Changmin reaches under them to produce a tube and a strip of foil.
“Who’d you learn that from?” Yunho asks with a raised eyebrow, then barks a laugh when Changmin insists that he did all his own research for this one, thank you very much.
But as over-informed as he is, Changmin can’t suppress a twitch when Yunho’s hand strays between his legs. Yunho rubs soothing circles on the inside of Changmin’s thigh and asks again if Changmin is really sure he wants Yunho this way.
“Yoochun made it look like a lot of fun,” Changmin shrugs, impatience and nerves converting into snark. “Hurry up, you’re giving me a complex.”
“Hurry up, he says,” Yunho grumbles. “You definitely learned that from Jaejoong.” He pops the cap of the tube with his thumb, and gives Changmin a pointed look when the noise makes Changmin jump again.
“Jaejoong said that if I get you drunk, you’ll talk dirty to me,” Changmin answers, deadpan, then bites down hard on his lip when Yunho narrows his eyes and pushes the first finger inside Changmin a bit faster than Changmin is ready for.
“Sorry, thought we were hurrying,” Yunho says. “Ready to do it my way now?”
Changmin nods, jaw tight, and Yunho kisses the inside of his knee in apology as he eases up and starts over. He does go slow, so slow Changmin feels like he’s going to go out of his skin, but he keeps his mouth shut until Yunho’s steady touches inside him and on his cock have him ready to beg for more.
“You should…” Yunho says as he pulls his fingers out. He reaches for a condom packet, but Changmin beats him to it.
“No,” Changmin interrupts, tearing the foil open. “I want you this way. I want to see you.”
“It’ll hurt at first,” Yunho warns as Changmin helps roll the condom on him with shaking hands. Changmin kisses him for his honesty, and wonders who else Yunho’s said that to, who told it to him. “Take a deep breath and try to relax.”
It does hurt, more than a little, and Changmin squeezes arms tight around Yunho’s neck and tries to follow his advice. It helps when Yunho kisses Changmin’s shoulder and strokes his side with one hand. Changmin takes a deep breath, then another, listens to the steady beat of Yunho’s heart against his ear, and finally he relaxes enough that Yunho can move forward.
“Okay?” Yunho asks eventually, and Changmin loosens the stranglehold he has on Yunho enough that he’s lying back against the pillows, able to see Yunho’s face. Yunho balances his weight on one elbow to smooth Changmin’s damp hair out of his face.
“Yeah,” Changmin answers. He’s not, quite yet, but he will be when Yunho gets moving, when they get on with it already.
“Tcht, liar,” Yunho sighs, and he lets go of Changmin’s hair to wrap his hand around Changmin’s cock instead, to coax him back into hardness while he kisses Changmin’s cheek, his temple. Changmin turns his head to make Yunho’s next kiss fall on his mouth instead, and he groans softly as it does start to feel better now that he’s hard again.
“Ready,” Changmin insists when Yunho doesn’t seem in a hurry to make any more progress, and he pushes at Yunho’s shoulder when Yunho makes no move to comply. “Really this time, ready.”
Yunho begins to move, slow, one hand still on Changmin. It’s still weird, but it’s better, heat prickling Changmin’s skin, and it’s even better yet when Changmin pushes back against Yunho’s next tentative thrust. It upsets Yunho’s balance, though, makes his rhythm stutter, and Changmin reaches between then to knock Yunho’s hand aside and replace it with his own.
“Get serious, Yunnie-ah,” Changmin orders, pretending his voice isn’t shaking. “If I wanted hand-holding and crying, I’d have gone back to Yoochun for this part.”
“You’re a real smartass, Virgin-sshi,” Yunho growls, but he gets his balance back, both hands planted firmly on the bed, and snaps his hips.
“Not anymore,” Changmin laughs in between gasps, and then he loses all his breath when it suddenly starts feeling really good.
Yunho encourages him in gruff commands, tells him to keep touching himself, just like that, and Changmin can only moan in response, moved just as much by the sound of Yunho’s voice in his ear as by the thrust of Yunho’s body against his. Yunho kisses any of Changmin’s skin he can get his mouth on in fleeting touches, and when he grazes teeth over the curve of Changmin’s neck, orgasm washes over Changmin suddenly, sweet and sharp.
Dimly, Changmin can hear Yunho cry out, and the memory of what it felt like to be inside Yoochun when he came sends another burst of shudders through Changmin. But when Changmin’s eyes clear enough for him to blink up at Yunho, he finds Yunho still hanging on, watching Changmin intently.
“What are you waiting for?” Changmin asks, and for once it’s an honest question instead of a challenge.
“You,” Yunho answers, and Changmin sees exactly what he means when Yunho speeds up and finally does give in to his own release, back arched and cheeks flushed. Changmin catches Yunho when he collapses, dead weight on Changmin’s chest, and Changmin brushes kisses over Yunho’s cheek for letting him watch, smoothes hands soothingly over Yunho’s back until he’s stopped shivering.
“Don’t move,” Changmin orders when Yunho starts to shift his weight away, then winces when Yunho ignores him and holds Changmin down with a hand on his stomach to pull out. Yunho kisses away the worst of Changmin’s hurt grumbles and helps Changmin rub the cramps out of the backs of Changmin’s thighs.
Curled up tightly under the blankets, Changmin tells Yunho the whole story, and Yunho listens to every word despite the fact that he already knows most of it, stroking a hand idly through Changmin’s hair and occasionally down his back.
“You can’t have thought Jaejoong was going to keep that all secret from me,” Yunho says, then after a second adds, “or anybody.”
“I was hoping his love of evil conspiracy would outweigh his leader-kink,” Changmin answers, skimming fingers over Yunho’s hip and making him shiver. Yunho snorts. “So…what happens now?”
“You mean after we pass you around like a shiny new iPod?” Yunho asks. Changmin punches him in the shoulder without any real force behind it, but lets Yunho kiss him anyway.
After a few days, Changmin’s forced to admit that Yunho was not in fact kidding.
“Oh god, leave me alone!” Changmin whines when his attempt at a nap on the couch is interrupted by a heavy weight landing on his chest. Slitting his eyes open reveals a Junsu with no shirt and a hopeful grin. “I need sleep! Go molest somebody else!”
“I heard you say that to Yoochun last night,” Junsu scoffs, already fiddling with the buttons on Changmin’s shirt. “And you didn’t mean it then either.”
“Susu-ah,” Changmin says sweetly, “I will let you lick ice cream off my naked body after dinner, if right now you go away and let me sleep.”
“Can I tie you up?” Junsu inquires, pausing in his unbuttoning, but before Changmin can give any more answer than a frown, another voice cuts in.
“What happened to this grand plan of yours, Minnie-ah? Don’t you want to finish going through the members?”
Changmin leans his head back to find Jaejoong leaning over the back of the couch, looking over Changmin and Junsu with interest. “What are you talking about? I got everybody.”
“Sure, one at a time.” Jaejoong rests his chin on a hand. “But what about all the combinations? Those are way more interesting.”
“Combinations?” Changmin repeats, unsure whether he should be excited or terrified, but his cock has apparently made its own decision and stirs against Junsu’s thigh.
“You, Yunho, and I,” Jaejoong continues, eyes dark and glittering, “You, Yoochun, and I…”
“You, me, and Yoochun!” Junsu gets in on it, practically sparkling at the idea.
“And then there’s the foursomes.” Jaejoong twirls a couple fingers in the air. “And of course the logical conclusion.”
Changmin whimpers and begins rubbing his hips more seriously against Junsu.
“Don’t worry, Minnie-ah,” Jaejoong soothes, reaching down to stroke fingers through Junsu’s hair; Junsu leans up into the touch, eyes fluttering. “Junsu and I will start you out slow.”
“Dibs on his mouth,” Junsu hums, and Changmin opens his mouth to argue, but it comes out as a moan when Junsu chooses that moment to start rocking his hips back against Changmin.
They’ve barely gotten their shirts off when they hear the door open and Yunho and Yoochun both call out that they’re home.
“Hmm,” Jaejoong says thoughtfully, making eye contact with Changmin. Junsu’s mouth is too full to answer. “What do you think?”
“I think starting slow is for weenies,” Changmin says, and they grin at each other in evil conspiracy, just before they both call for Yunho and Yoochun to come into the living room for a minute.