Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at

http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/315958.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Relationship: Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin
Character: Jung Yunho, Shim Changmin, Kim Heechul, BoA
Additional Tags: Fuckbuddies, Friends to Lovers, Canon Compliant, Romance
Stats: Published: 2012-01-08 Words: 13550

Dawn Bird's Song

by dentedsky

Summary

Yunho's never been good with feelings and Changmin dislikes touching but that's okay,
because they have an understanding. They’re just friends... with benefits.

Notes

For dbsk-bigbang 2011 on LJ.

Bird | Now

There have been many obvious pivotal moments in Yunho's life – passing his audition, his
grandfather dying, meeting Jaejoong for the first time – and then there have been the not-so-
obvious moments, the quiet events that seem silly or inconsequential at the time, like when
Changmin walks into their workroom, stops, stares at Yunho with blazing eyes and blurts out:

“What if I told you I like men?”

Dung-dong, go the keys on the keyboard, a fitting interruption to his composing. He's been
writing a song but because of the odd question hanging in the room between them, all lyrics and
melodies he's made up so far fly from his head.

Yunho slumps in his chair, then gives Changmin a side-along look. Changmin's eyes widen even
more, anticipating Yunho's answer. It’s a joke, surely; one of Changmin-style humour, but a joke
none-the-less.

“I would say, 'Your manias are gonna go crazy,'” Yunho tells him, “and also, 'Let's go drinking.'”

A beat passes where Changmin clenches his teeth and bares them at Yunho, aggressively, before
turning on his heal and slamming out of the room.

Yunho stares at the door Changmin had just gone through, thinking, Such bad manners, and,
What was I doing again..?

Song | Then

Once Changmin had made a comment about how he and Yunho weren't friends, just co-workers,
and Yunho had laughed his head off.

Thing was, though, Yunho agreed: Changmin was just his co-worker, if by ‘just co-worker’ he
meant 'dongsaeng who's really annoying and shoves you around on stage all the time, and also
happens to work with you, and lives with you, and thinks he's smarter than you in all aspects
except for dancing, and gets all up in your face about wearing shoes inside the flat, and nags you
about long showers, and is the only person in the whole of Asia who doesn't think you're
wonderful - '

Then yeah, they were just co-workers.

“Sometimes I think you're my wife,” Yunho told him one morning as he stomped out of the
bathroom, dripping wet, towel loosely slung around his hips, after a bout of Changmin yelling
through the bathroom door of, “Hurry up!” and “What are you doing in there!” and “We're going
to be late!” Changmin glowered at him as he passed him in the hall, hands on hips and toe literally
tapping.

“I think to myself,” continued Yunho as he entered his bedroom, “‘when did I get married?'”

“Who would marry you?” Changmin retorted, which was such a dumb question – half of South
Korea at least, obviously. There was a pause in which Changmin waited in the hall a moment to
allow for Yunho to put some pants on, before walking into Yunho's room.

Yunho stood in track pants and socks, wardrobe open, and considered his options. “Hmm,
nothing to wear - “

“Aish!” exclaimed Changmin, from behind him.

“We're just practicing Maximum, right?” he wondered aloud. “So I just need any old shirt - “

“Yes!”

“Ah, this one is nice.” Yunho picked up a black tee with a cool stencilled image on the front. He
pulled it on and turned around -

Changmin's eyes widened as he stared Yunho's front. “Wait – that's mine - !”

“We should go, we're going to be late!” Yunho raced past him and out of the room. From the front
door he heard Changmin make a loud, angry noise, and Yunho threw him an unapologetic grin
just as they were leaving.

*
Their Maximum choreography was perfect.

“You know what I'm going to say next, right?” Yunho said to Changmin, hours later. They sipped
from their water bottles and wiped their sweat, and gave the dancers and the choreographer final
waves and bows as they left the studio.

Thankfully Changmin looked too tired from their morning's work to be snippy. He just shook his
head.

Yunho raised his eyebrows. “Our performance of How Can I the other night - “

Changmin groaned and made to turn away, but Yunho gently grabbed his arm and pulled him
back to face him. “It's hard with only two people,” Changmin confessed. Yunho felt emotion
bubble up from his throat at his words and he quickly pushed it back down again. “I don't think
we have to perform it again,” said Changmin.

“But what if we have to?” Yunho argued. “Besides,” he grinned, “don't you want to bond with
me more?”

Changmin must have been really tired, because he didn't even bother with a retort to this; he just
threw him a dirty look. Yunho took it as an affirmative and walked across the room to change the
music.

How Can I started playing. Yunho stayed at the edge of the room and gestured for Changmin to
start his part of the song. He looked miserable and unenthusiastic as he sang.

Yunho slowly walked across the floor, eyes trained on Changmin as he crooned through the
lyrics. They looked at each other, then Changmin looked away.

“Uh-uh, look at me!”

Changmin did as he was told, turning back and glaring.

“Better,” said Yunho, “now look at me with love.”

Changmin's mouth tightened even as he sang, and his eyes narrowed.

Yunho raised his eyebrows, stared him right in the eye, and waited for his own turn to sing.

He started, with great enthusiasm, giving Changmin the mushiest look he could. It must have been
too hilarious, because Changmin started to giggle, eyes slitted into half-moons, the back of his
hand pressed against his mouth. Yunho continued to sing, lifting his arms to him lovingly, and
Changmin looked away again.

Yunho gave him a light smack on the shoulder to look back.

Finally it was half-way through the song and they could sing together. Yunho gave him a look,
daring him to stare him right in the eyes, and Changmin caught the challenge and stared back. For
the last minute of the song, neither of them looked away.

The song ended and Yunho let himself laugh, throwing his head back. “Do you love me or do
you want to eat me?” he asked rhetorically, grabbing Changmin's shoulders as he tried to walk
away. “Your love look is really scary.”

The song, on repeat, started to play again.

Changmin wasn't looking at him, but Yunho assumed he was rolling his eyes. “I want to kill you,”
said Changmin, “even more-so than usual.”

“Again!” exclaimed Yunho, and this time he pulled Changmin into a light embrace and tried to
waltz him slowly.

“Hyung, seriously,” Changmin complained, even as he let Yunho steer him around the room.
“What are you doing?”

“One more, one more, one more,” said Yunho as he stopped them in the middle of the room and
started to sing his verse, trying for melancholic and heart-felt. Changmin rolled his eyes but it
appeared that he was finally starting to concede.

Then they got to sing together, to each other, looking into each other's eyes, Yunho focused and
Changmin’s gaze, soft and affectionate without losing heat -

And when the song ended, Yunho nodded, satisfied, and Changmin said, “I don't love men,”
which totally ruined the mood.

Yunho blinked at him a few times.

When the song restarted he went over to the player and turned it off. He stood there, back to the
room, and rubbed his eyes.

When he finally turned back he saw that Changmin had gathered their things and was walking
across the room. He got to Yunho, stopped, watched him silently, then handed over his water
bottle, towel and bag.

Yunho took them slowly, then looked down at them in his arms.

He eventually ventured with, “You really don't like fan service - “

“You've known me for eight years,” Changmin reminded him sternly, “when have you ever
known me to like it?”

There was a time when Yunho had to think to himself, It's me, and it's Changmin, and it's me and
Changmin. And there's no one else.

It hurt.

He cried only to himself in the darkest hour of night, because he wasn't the kind of person who let
himself cry in front of others. Changmin did cry, with big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, a
high, keening whine sounding from his throat like a dying animal. Yunho had put his arms around
his shoulders and held on tight as they crumpled to the floor, pressed up against the couch, his
dongseang's fingers clenched in Yunho's shirt at first, before they loosened and lay against his
chest.

Once Changmin had managed to cry himself to sleep, Yunho lifted him up and placed him lying
down on couch then got on himself and hugged him from behind, rocking slowly, singing a song
into his hair.

When he awoke the next morning, Changmin was already up, pottering around the kitchen,
making hot rice porridge with egg and dried seaweed for their breakfast – classic comfort food. He
seemed better already, humming a song under his breath that may or may not have been the one
Yunho had sung to him the night before.
Yunho still felt dead inside.

There was a point when JYJ had released their album The Beginning and Yunho had gotten his
hands on it as soon as it was out. He played Still In Love over and over, translations of the lyrics
on the laptop screen in front of him. Real subtle, Jaejoong, he'd thought, real subtle. And then he
thought, You bastard, yet continued to listen to the song till the early hours of the morning, every
morning, Changmin helping him out of his chair and into bed if he ever caught him up late.

“Let's never talk about it,” Yunho said to Changmin one day, as he was leaving for rehearsals for
Goong.

“Especially to the public if we can help it,” Changmin said, his complete understanding of the
subject giving Yunho some relief.

“Yes,” Yunho agreed, relaxing his shoulders a little.

For the longest time, however, he listened to JYJ's albums and watched their videos and concerts
online. His heart had almost exploded when a rumour was leaked from fans: that Jaejoong had
attended one of his performances of Goong. Whether it was true or not, he never did find out.

The days had turned into months, and his schedule was busy again, and it all started to feel a little
easier.

It was just him and Changmin, now.

Heechul came to visit.

“How's your love life?” Yunho asked him, casually, arm draped over the back of the couch.

“Marvellous,” he replied, “How's yours?”

“How marvellous?” Yunho pressed, side-stepping the question. “Still seeing that girl?”

“Yeah...” Heechul gave him a suspicious look. “Did you really just get me over here to have
lunch?” he asked, then added, just as Changmin walked into the room, “Or is this a booty call?”

Yunho threw Heechul a fast, sly grin. Changmin stopped before them, eyes flicking from one to
the other, before he gave Heechul a quick bow in greeting, which the other returned.

Changmin looked at Yunho fully, gave him an unimpressed look and said, “Are you done with
lunch? Because we have an admin meeting with the agency and we need to leave in seven
minutes.”

“Wow,” exclaimed Heechul, “who needs coordinators and managers when you've got Choikang
Changmin?”

“He's not my coordinator, he's my wife,” quipped Yunho as Changmin continued to look at them
coolly.

Heechul snorted. “Then why am I your booty call when you're already married?”

“I said wife, not girlfriend.” They laughed, high-fiving. It was all very funny until Yunho caught
the look on Changmin's face.

He had his arms crossed and his cheeks were red, mouth tight, and he was glaring daggers – no,
lasers – at Yunho.

A pause.

“Yeah,” said Heechul, “so I'm gonna go. Um, I'm leaving, bye.”

Changmin was still glaring even as the front door clicked shut behind Heechul. Yunho felt himself
sink deeper into the couch.

“I'm sorry - “

“Six minutes,” Changmin snapped. “If you're any later I'm leaving without you,” he added, as he
strode from the room.

Yunho felt really shitty – he'd taken the joke too far. He hoped that Changmin would be over it in
a few hours, but he wasn't so fortunate.

A couple of days later they performed Keep Your Head Down. During the lovers’ argument at the
end of the song, Changmin grabbed onto Yunho's front and shoved him half-way across the stage.
It took monumental effort for Yunho not to trip over backwards.

Back stage Changmin came over and adjusted the front of Yunho's costume where he'd practically
ripped it off. He seemed aloof, but his shaking hands belied his demeanour.

Yunho supposed he was sorry.

Except perhaps Changmin wasn't as sorry as Yunho had thought, because during a separate
performance he did it again.

He broached the subject one day in the van on the way home.

“So... So Changmin,” he began, nervously caressing his own knees. Changmin looked at him
enquiringly, which was a good start. Yunho was relying on Changmin resisting an attack while
Coordi-noona was in the seat in front of them. “So perhaps next time,” he broached, “next time,
not so hard, yeah?”

Changmin gave him a long, hot, indecipherable look. “But I like it that way,” he said, voice deep
and soft.

Yunho glanced at him, looked out the window, shuffled in his seat, and glanced at him again.

Oooookay...

“It's just, it's hard to sing...” He trailed off when he saw that Changmin was staring out his own
window, no longer paying attention.

Changmin walked into their workroom, stopped, stared at Yunho with blazing eyes and blurted
out:

“What if I told you I like men?”

Dung-dong, went the keys on the keyboard, a fitting interruption to his composing.

Yunho slumped in his chair, then gave Changmin a side-along look. “I would say, 'Your manias
are gonna go crazy,'” Yunho told him, “and also, 'Let's go drinking.'”
A beat passed where Changmin clenched his teeth and bared them at Yunho, aggressively, before
turning on his heal and slamming out of the room.

Yunho stared at the door Changmin had just gone through, thinking, Such bad manners, and,
What was I doing again..?

He placed his fingers on the keyboard keys gently, then frowned down at them, blinking rapidly.
He squinted at his music papers on the rack, then wondered where his glasses were. He drummed
out some random notes – dung ding dong dung –

Changmin came back into the room, his stride no less purposeful though he didn’t slam open the
door like he did a moment ago, thankfully. This time he had his and Yunho’s jackets thrown over
one arm. Yunho swivelled in his chair to face him, elbows on knees, and asked the obvious
question with his eyes.

“You said ‘Let’s go drinking,’” Changmin clarified. “And also, my manias are already crazy, that
is the whole point of them being manias. Though they’re not as crazy as yours.”

Yunho got up slowly and stood in front of him. He stared, taking in Changmin’s uneasy
expression and the tense set of his shoulders, the short, nervous shuffle from his left foot to his
right, the glow of the hall light behind his head making his hair look soft and shiny.

Yunho leaned forward to peer closer, and Changmin automatically leaned back.

“You’re... serious?” Yunho enquired.

Changmin glanced to the side and back again. “I haven’t gone out drinking in a while – “

“I meant about – about – “ Yunho gesticulated with his right hand.

He was shown the classic deer-in-headlights look. “Let’s get me drunk and then we can talk about
it.”

“Okay,” said Yunho, leaning back and finally taking his jacket. “But we’re going to need better
disguises than this.”

“What for? Let’s just go to Ascend, it’s private enough.”

“I’m not taking you to Ascend,” Yunho told him as he squeezed passed Changmin and into the
hall, heading for his bedroom. He took the moment he was out of Changmin’s sight to press his
hand to his heart and yes, it was beating way too fast. He took deep breaths to slow it down.

He grabbed his usual sunglasses and cap, as well as a large, fluffy scarf that was good at hiding
his neck, chin and mouth. He pulled out his mobile and phoned for a taxi, naming the pick-up
location as the street corner, down the road from their apartment block.

Changmin met him at the front door. “Hyung,” he said, looking a little frightened, “where are you
taking me?”

Yunho adjusted Changmin’s disguise, pulling his scarf up to his mouth then smoothing his hands
over his shoulders. “A place not on our usual circuit.”

“Huh?” said Changmin, watching Yunho closely as they walked through the front door and
Yunho locked it behind them. He strode rapidly down the hall to the elevator, Changmin trotting
behind. “What does that even mean?”
Once they were outside on the street Yunho kept his mouth shut tight, and Changmin didn’t push
further. They met the taxi at the end of the street and Yunho gave him the name of a popular bar
near their destination.

The kind of trip he and Changmin were taking was very risky, even for regular citizens, and of
course especially risky for idols. They had to be careful of all their movements, especially as they
were heading to a seedier part of town.

He chose his next words carefully, taking heed of the taxi driver. “You know you can trust me,
right?”

“Yes,” answered Changmin, and at that moment Yunho wished he could see Changmin’s eyes
through the sunglasses. “It’s why I told you; I don’t think I can talk to anyone else. Besides,” he
cleared his throat, “you understand, don’t you.”

Yunho gave him an encouraging smile. “Yeah, I understand.”

Madam-noona knew who he was on sight. Yunho liked her because she was very discreet and so
far none of his previous visits had gone to the press, and he knew it was thanks to her. She needed
to keep her reputation and clientele, after all.

“Come,” she beckoned, gesturing for them to follow. She didn’t ask who Changmin was but she
gave him a glance as she led them down the dimly lit, long, dark hall. “Only men tonight,” she
informed them, for Changmin’s benefit.

“Only want men,” Yunho told her. They passed several doors, then she told them to wait as she
went through the door at the end of the hall. She came back out a moment later with about a dozen
young men in tow.

“Private rooms?” she asked.

“To share,” he answered.

She gestured to the stoic line of handsome men, some thin and others broad-shouldered, but all tall
and well-dressed. About seven men down the line a particularly young one leaned forward from
the queue and waved to Yunho enthusiastically, his bleached-blonde hair made bronze in the dull
light.

Yunho smiled, amused. “I’ll take my usual.”

Madam-noona gestured and the escort – working name Prince – came forward and stuck himself
between Yunho and Changmin, throwing his arms around Yunho’s shoulders.

“Missed you,” Prince whispered in his ear.

Changmin was still deciding. “Hmm,” he wondered aloud, getting confident. “Him,” he pointed,
“he’ll do.”

Yunho looked up at the approaching escort and was surprised at Changmin’s choice. They guy
was very tall with wavy black hair to his shoulders, and wore a hard, aloof expression. He
reminded him of Yoochun.

Together the four of them were given a rectangular room lined with leather bench seats and a low
table in the middle. In the centre of the table were bottles of liquor and water along with sets of
drinking and shot glasses. Easy lounge music was playing at a low volume.

They greeted each other politely before sitting down. Prince was the youngest and Sokjun,
Changmin’s escort, was Yunho’s age.

They all sat down. “I wanted to drink and chat with you alone,” Changmin told Yunho frankly, as
he made himself comfortable on the soft bench seat. “Instead you bring me to a brothel.”

“It’s not a brothel,” Yunho was quick to correct, as Prince, unperturbed, gave them a shot glass
each and proceeded to fill them with the first bottle of soju.

“We’re your entertainment,” Sokjun put in, his voice deep and liquid-smooth. “Party guys,” he
added in English.

“Party guys,” Changmin mimicked, seeming to roll the words around his mouth.

Yunho gracefully poured Prince his drink. They flirted with each other with their eyes. He was
very pretty and slim, just Yunho’s type; Yunho especially liked men with blonde or high-lighted
hair.

“Although sometimes we make exceptions,” said Prince, seductive smile broadening, “if someone
takes our fancy.”

Changmin and Sokjun gave him equally unimpressed stares.

Yunho felt Changmin place a hand on his arm. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about it here,”
said Changmin, lowly, when he had gotten his attention.

Yunho grabbed his hand and held it firmly for a moment. “This place is the safest place to talk
about it, bar our own apartment. But actually,” he added, when Changmin looked disbelieving,
“we can talk about it any time. I brought you here to loosen up; you’ve been so stressed lately. If
you like, we can just have a couple of drinks and then go straight home.”

Sokjun lifted his glass. “One shot!” he announced, and the four of them downed their soju in one
gulp. He then refilled everyone’s, and Changmin filled Sokjun’s.

“One shot!” said Changmin, immediately, and they all took their second dose.

“Slow down, okay,” said Yunho, concerned, as Prince did the next refills.

“Yunho-hyung,” said Prince in cutesy-talk, putting down the bottle of soju and hugging Yunho's
arm, “you never come visit any more, have you got a new boyfriend?” He pouted in Changmin's
direction. “Is that him?”

“Aish, this guy...” Changmin muttered, slumping back and running a hand through his hair.

Yunho put a hand on his thigh. “Just relax.”

“I am fucking relaxed.”

“No I haven't got a boyfriend, I promise,” Yunho told Prince, sweetly. “You're the only man for
me.”

Prince pressed his hands to his cheeks. “Aigo, such a sweet talker! But you must have been
getting it somewhere. Where! I must know, I'm so jealous.”

“Nowhere, I swear,” said Yunho as to the side Sokjun and Changmin took another shot.
“Nowhere, I swear,” said Yunho as to the side Sokjun and Changmin took another shot.

“What about Heechul?” asked Changmin, after he'd swallowed.

Yunho looked at him in alarm. Changmin returned his gaze coolly.

“I overheard you two talking,” he continued. “Did you sleep with him?”

Yunho swallowed, feeling small under Changmin's darkening gaze. “Yes,” Yunho croaked out,
because he didn't like lying. He cleared his throat.

Changmin blinked at him as if he wasn't expecting the answer he’d gotten. His eyes searched
Yunho's. He asked, “Are you going out with him?” and Yunho heard the slightly strained note in
his voice.

He couldn't help it: he laughed. “No, no, no, no... He's not good with commitment. I mean, I love
him, but I wouldn't date him. I just - “ He paused, caught Changmin's eyes and said honestly, “We
did sleep together, just as friends.”

“Just as friends?” said Changmin, holding Yunho's gaze.

“Only a few times...” He started to chuckle to himself as he recalled the memory of when he'd
snatched Heechul's phone from his hand and started going through all his text messages while
Heechul was jumping up and down around him, shouting, “Give it Back! That's private!” Yunho
said, “You know Heechul – he has about three lovers that I know of, though if I’d hazard a guess
I’d say his friends-with-benefits number is more like seven or eight.”

“Friends-with-benefits?”

“Yeah, you know.” Yunho crossed his arms and wondered how best to explain. “Well take
Heechul, for instance. He's bisexual, isn't he, like me, and between you and me he's a total slut.
The agency's worst kept secret, I'd almost say. He's popular and has lots of friends, and he also
dates women. But sometimes, you know...” He raised his eyebrow cheekily at Changmin and
smirked. “Sometimes you need a little something that you can't get from a woman.”

Sokjun snorted. Prince, captivated, nodded enthusiastically.

“But we can't just go and date men,” Yunho continued, “too risky in this business, despite there
being quite a few of us. So sometimes you go and do 'this and that' with your like-minded peers.”

Changmin leaned back in his seat, puffed out his cheeks then exhaled loudly. For him the
information must have been a revelation. Then he suddenly sat up straight and looked at Yunho,
eyes blazing. “What about you? How many 'this and that' friendships have you got?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “None. I don't count Heechul because we haven't done it for several
months. Ha, he's probably bored of me.”

“Perhaps he sees you as something akin to a fine wine,” Sokjun commented as he lazily held up
his glass up to the light and stared into the clear liquid. “You are only for special occasions.”

“Ahaha,” Changmin laughed mirthlessly, “now I finally see what you guys get paid to do.”

Sokjun caught his eyes and smirked. “Let's drink to that,” he said, and together the four of them
downed their shots.

“So was there anyone else?” asked Prince. “Besides Heechul.”

“Well there was you of course,” Yunho answered affectionately. “But as for friends-with-benefits,
no. I've spent a lot of my life in relationships and those, as you know, weren't all that secret.”

“Good,” said Prince, “that's all the answers I need.” He then smoothly slid over Yunho's lap and
straddled him, hands roaming from Yunho's shoulders to his pectorals. Yunho inhaled deeply
through his nose at the sudden feel of arousal blossoming inside him, but the feeling was warring
with embarrassment at knowing that Changmin was right next to him, watching. He couldn't look,
so instead said, “I think I'm drunk,” and then realised it was true.

From the corner of his eye Yunho caught movement from the side – and when he looked properly
he saw that Changmin was moving: he pushed his fingers through Sokjun’s hair to cup the back
of his head, then leaned forward and kissed him.

Yunho stared.

It wasn’t a chaste kiss – it was long, open-mouthed and heated. Changmin expertly moved his
mouth over Sokjun’s and Yunho caught a hint of tongue –

Changmin abruptly turned away, picked up his shot glass and downed its contents. He slammed
the glass back down with a loud thunk. Next to him Sokjun was staring at Changmin, the
nonchalant expression he’d been wearing the whole rendezvous completely wiped away and was
now replaced with a heavy-lidded, lust filled look.

Changmin flicked his eyes up and stared Yunho right in the eye, challenging. “I’m bored,” he
said, “I want to go home now.”

“Yeah...” said Yunho, shakily. Prince said nothing as he slowly slid off his lap.

“I think I’ve always sort of known,” Changmin told Yunho, later. They were back in their
apartment, on the couch, facing one another.

Yunho cradled his bottle of red ice tea in his lap and felt himself sobering up.

“My earliest memory was when I was eight,” Changmin continued. His hair was a mess and was
sticking up on one side. “Sometimes my friend would come over to my place to play after school,
and we used to hide under the covers and we’d play ‘mummies and daddies’.”

“Ah yeah!” said Yunho, throwing his head back and laughing. “The classic coming out story.”

Changmin smiled. “I know it’s dumb, but we used to take it in turns being the mummy and daddy,
and we’d kiss of course. But actually, I didn’t realise till much later in life.

“Funny thing, looking at fashion magazines...” He trailed off and stared at his own bottle of iced
tea. “For so long I thought I was looking at the male fashion because I liked their clothes, and I
used to save my favourite pictures from the internet on my computer. I just thought, I like the
clothes. But I’d saved so many... aish, it’s such an inconsequential thing, but one day, I just
realised, and then everything else, just...”

“Fell into place,” Yunho finished for him, nodding. “Yeah.”

Changmin looked up from his deep contemplation of his beverage and smiled at Yunho, sleepy
and sweet. “Yeah... You know, I was so jealous of you and Jaejoong-hyung.” His smile melted
away.
Yunho swallowed, watching Changmin closely. “Jealous?”

“Yeah... because, well, you had each other, didn’t you? You didn’t have to suffer alone. And you
didn’t even have to hide it,” he added with a snort.

“Ah yes,” said Yunho wistfully, “hiding in plain sight.”

“One of your better ideas, I’ll admit.”

“Ha-ha!”

“Don’t get cocky; most of your ideas are rubbish.” Changmin swigged from his bottle.

Yunho gave him a light kick across the couch. “I’m U-Know Yunho!”

“I know, I know, U-Know Yunho,” mocked Changmin, in English.

As revenge Yunho decided to tickle him this time, by sliding his socked foot up Changmin’s calf
and knee, and the other man gave him an exaggeratedly unaffected look at first, until Yunho’s toe
slid up the more sensitive inner thigh. Changmin jerked into full bodied giggles and tried to kick
him off, then Yunho retaliated until they were having a very odd kicking fight across the couch.

After Changmin had kicked him particularly hard in the shin, Yunho got onto his knees and
crawled over the short distance to tickle Changmin properly, fingers pattering at Changmin’s sides
and making him wriggle and laugh, loudly –

“ – oh god, stop it, hyung - !”

He finally managed to get away by ninja rolling off the couch and running off. Yunho chased
after him and caught him around his middle, dragging him backwards.

Changmin was still shaking with mirth, but he finally sobered and turned in the circle of Yunho’s
arms.

There was a moment where neither pulled away. They were both breathing harshly, hips pressed
together, Changmin’s hands on Yunho’s upper arms and Yunho’s hands on his waist. Yunho
stared at Changmin’s chin to avoid his eyes. Then he slowly removed his arms and took a step
back, gently clearing his throat.

“We should go to bed,” he said, quietly.

“Should we?” said Changmin, voice gone soft and desperate, and oh god, this was dangerous
territory. Yunho’s heart beat a fast rhythm in his chest. He licked his lips and moved, side-stepping
Changmin to his own room –

Changmin caught his arm.

He said, breathlessly, “You were saying, earlier – “

Yunho finally looked at him. “You might regret it – “

“I won’t,” Changmin promised, holding his gaze and grabbing his other arm. “We’re just friends,
right?”

“Oh, Changmin,” Yunho sighed, feeling himself giving in.

“I need to at least have my first time with someone I trust, who cares about me.”
As Changmin pleaded with his eyes, all the amorous feelings Yunho had ever had about him, all
the affection he’d felt at his snarky comments, all the protectiveness he’d felt from the brushes
with anti-fans – all of it started to bubble up into his chest, hot and swelling... and there was no
way he was going to say no.

He nodded.

Changmin grabbed him and shoved up against the nearest wall, pressing his taut body flush
against him. Their faces were close, breathing the same air, staring at each other’s mouths – and
then they were smashing their mouths together, heatedly, violently, hands all over each other,
grabbing hair, shoulders, pectorals, waists, hips, arse – kissing like the world was ending, like
they’d die if they didn’t slide their tongues together, and fit their mouths at different angles, and
bite and suck -

Changmin abruptly pulled his mouth away and they breathed harshly, as if they’d been running a
marathon. “Oh my god,” he gasped out.

“Yeah,” agreed Yunho, before diving back in.

It took monumental effort for them to manoeuvre themselves to the nearest bedroom as they
couldn’t keep from touching each other, from having every body part they could pressed against
the other. Changmin felt amazing under Yunho’s hands, all hard muscle, yet he was lithe and thin
which alluded to a kind of delicateness that turned him on. His lips were so soft and they felt
incredible to kiss. It was as if every kiss and every touch caused the heat in his chest to burn just
that much hotter.

Changmin grabbed Yunho’s shirt and tried to rip it off over his head. The violent act caused a shirt
button to fly off, but they didn’t care. Changmin ripped off his own shirt and they attacked each
other’s jean’s, undoing buckles and buttons and zips, shoving them down and off, then pressing
their bodies back together, falling onto Yunho’s unmade bed.

Yunho lay on his back and bent his knees and spread his thighs, bracketing Changmin’s hips.
Changmin pinched his nipples, making him shiver, and Yunho felt Changmin’s cock sliding down
behind his balls –

“Hang on,” he said, breaking away slightly and sliding up the bed, reaching for his bedside table.
He fished around in the bottom drawer for a condom and a lube sachet. “Sit up,” he commanded,
and Changmin kneeled on the bed.

Yunho bent over him and rolled the condom down Changmin’s cock, then ripped open the sachet
and squeezed out some lubricant.

Changmin touched his hair and Yunho looked up, then leaned up for a kiss.

Yunho spread his legs again and Changmin braced himself over him. Yunho used his fingers to
spread himself open that much more, and Changmin positioned himself then slid in slow.

Oh fuck, that felt good.

Yunho groaned, grabbing his pillow and pressing it to his mouth, practically screaming into it.
That first push into him felt incredible, the slow drag out felt amazing in a different way, his
nerves tingling and his whole body feeling hot and feverish. The next push in caused the deep
arousal in his belly to burn, and he felt almost weightless like he was floating through a sea of
sheets.
He shut his eyes tight.

He felt rather than saw Changmin’s presence as his dongsaeng leaned down and pressed his lips
to Yunho’s neck, making low, moaning noises in the back of his throat, hips moving rhythmically,
like a slow song. Changmin’s hand slid up his side as he mouthed Yunho’s throat, heightening
their arousal. Fingers touched Yunho’s shoulder, throat, mouth, before sliding them between his
lips for him to suck on. He took them in, caressing the digits with his tongue while his hands slid
up Changmin’s sides and over his back, then used his nails to drag lightly across his smooth skin.

He silently pushed Changmin to sit up and back. He allowed his weight to press back on his
shoulder blades and he used this leverage to fuck himself on Changmin slowly at first, then faster
when that wasn’t enough. Changmin was now free to watch his own cock slide in and out, while
his hands wandered over Yunho’s hips and stomach.

Yunho looked, saw Changmin’s eyes heavy-lidded and looking down at where they were joined
together, saw how his lips still swollen from kisses were parted, saw how he was panting.
Changmin finally touched him where he needed to be touched, pulling on him firmly and at an
easy pace, then going faster –

He could feel it, he was just on the edge –

He threw his head back and put a hand over his mouth to stifle his moans as he shuddering waves
of his orgasm brought him to euphoria. He managed to black out for what may have been minutes.

As he came back down, breathing harshly, Changmin leaned over him again, bracing himself on
his elbows, positioned himself at the best angle, then thrust with his hips as fast as he could go.

Yunho held on by wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Changmin buried his face into his
neck again, moaned, and came.

A moment, as they each caught their breath.

Yunho felt his eyelids drooping as Changmin slid from him, quiet in the dark room. He heard
Changmin slide off the bed and pad through the room, looking for a place to dispose of the
condom, most likely.

Yunho fell asleep.

He awoke mid-morning feeling stiff and sore and self-conscious. Soft light filtered in through the
room’s high window, alighting the figure in his bed next to him.

Changmin was curled up, facing away from him, his black hair fluffed and spread across his
pillow. He looked as if he had chosen the part of the bed that was as far from Yunho as possible,
right on the edge.

Yunho moved slowly over, careful not to wake him. He lifted himself up on one arm and leaned
over Changmin, trying to peer at his face. Most of Changmin’s face was pressed into his pillow,
but Yunho could see his mouth was turned down into a frown.

He moved away and carefully got out of bed, then went to have a shower. In the shower he sang
How Can I, soft at first then at the top of his lungs, then at normal volume. After he’d had a shave,
he went back to his room, still singing, then abruptly stopped singing as soon as he saw that
Changmin was gone.
He got dressed. When he stepped out of his room, he saw that Changmin’s bedroom door was
shut. In the kitchen, he made himself some cereal, and tried not to think about anything.

He immediately remembered how he’d spread his legs and moaned into the pillow and how he’d
allowed Changmin to take him over completely. He felt his cheeks go hot.

He ate a spoonful of cereal and then stared into the bowl.

Ten minutes later, Manager-sshi arrived, looking as harried as usual, cap pulled down over his
messy hair. “Have you been practising?” he demanded as soon as Yunho opened his front door.
He pushed past him and into the flat proper, flicking through some papers he had in his hands.
“You did have a good listen? It’s the best version. Where’s Changmin?”

Yunho hesitated. “He’s not feeling well.”

His manager looked at him in alarm. “Is it his voice?” he exclaimed.

“No,” said Yunho quickly, “his stomach.”

“Well thank fuck for that,” said Manager-sshi, dismissive, as he strode off to the work room.
“Show me your progress.”

Progress?

Yunho had no choice but to follow. On the way to the work room his heard the shower running.
“Ah,” he started to explain, “the thing is, I only just got up – “

Manager-sshi looked up from the various papers strewn over the desk and glared at him.

“Yeah...” continued Yunho. He decided to be honest. “We went drinking last night and didn’t
finish til late.”

Manager-sshi glared some more, then said, scolding, “It’s ten-thirty in the morning, that’s a whole
three hours you could’ve been working.” A disappointed look crossed his tired features and he
shook his head. “I sent you an email this morning with the song file. Before U Go is in its final
stages and you and Changmin need to do your final recording. I was hoping you’d get some
practice in before heading to the studio, but I guess that’s out. Come have a listen.”

They worked for about fifteen minutes before Changmin came in, looking well-rested and ready
for work. Nothing about his demeanour suggested that he was embarrassed or regretful about last
night’s activities, though he didn’t engage Yunho in their usual amicable banter. That could have
been put down to their manager’s presence, though.

At the studio they took it in turns inside the recording room. On his break Yunho went to the staff
kitchen and made a warm tea that was good for a singer’s throat. He came back into the main
studio room just as Changmin was stepping out from the recording booth. He gestured Changmin
over to the table and handed him the mug of tea.

Changmin took it slowly with both hands, staring down at it, expression indecipherable. He
slowly looked up at Yunho, then bowed low with a soft, “Thank you.”

It was too formal.

Yunho’s throat tightened and he swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth to say something, then
closed it, then moved away.
For the next week Yunho and Changmin kept away from each other. When they weren’t working
together they were in their own rooms, or out at the gym at separate parts of the day. They didn’t
bother with having meals together and sometimes Yunho forgot to eat.

By the seventh day Yunho was on the verge of believing the sex was all a dream. The memories
of Changmin moving over and inside him were starting to fade away like smoke in cupped hands.
He tried and failed to remember the feel of Changmin’s lips against his own. He remembered that
his skin had been soft and smooth, but he couldn’t quite grasp the feel. While in the shower he
moved his hands over his own body, trying to bring back the tactile memories.

Once, while he was in the bathroom, he pressed Changmin’s towel to his face and breathed in. It
was mostly the smell of his green tea body wash with some shampoo smell in there, but
underneath those he could catch a whiff of Changmin’s scent, and finally Yunho was thrown back
into the memory of their night together, of Changmin taking him against his sheets, hands roaming
over his chest, the open-mouthed kisses –

Yunho abruptly pulled the towel away from his face and hung it back up.

That’s enough, he thought to himself.

That’s enough.

Yunho hadn’t looked forward to working with ex-girlfriend again, but to Ara’s credit she was
very professional even when they filmed the romantic dinner-for-two scene in TVXQ’s new
music video.

Yunho and the rest of the crew had taken a break from filming the warehouse infiltration scene.
Outside tea, coffee and snacks were served from the back of a van.

She blew softly on her cup of coffee as she came over to stand beside him. “Where were you
yesterday?” she asked. “You missed rehearsals. It’s going to be difficult for you to do the action
scenes.”

“It won’t be that difficult, I have a black belt in aikido,” Yunho told her with confidence. “And I
was sick.”

He had been – he’d almost fainted at the dance studio and had been taken to the doctor. The
doctor had examined him, hmmm’d, then had asked the question “How many meals did you
skip?” for which Yunho couldn’t give an answer.

Yunho leaned his shoulder against the warehouse wall and crossed his arms. Was she really
expecting them to make small talk like this, as if they were friends? “How are you finding the fight
scenes?” he asked her. Sticking to conversation about work was safe.

Ara cocked her head to the side, thinking about her answer. “Quite challenging,” she admitted
finally, “but I really enjoy it.”

“That’s good,” he said, “you should say that when you get interviewed.”

She pressed her lips together and sidled closer to him. “You know,” she started, slyly, “after this
video airs, people are going to talk.”

He frowned at her. “Talk?”

“On the internet.” She smiled. “About us.”

“Oh, yeah, ok,” Yunho said tiredly. “So?”

Ara leaned back a little to better read his face. She looked a little offended but mostly surprised.
“Well, they’re going to think we’re together.” She pouted. “It might be nice to give them a little
something... like, you could go on a date with me?”

Yunho stared at her side-along. “Ah,” he said, at length. “Are you asking me out?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m your perfect match, you know, and I don’t even mind that you
had an affair with another man.”

Yunho bit back an angry retort, trying not to scowl at her depreciation of his relationship with
Jaejoong. He sobered and added, “I don’t think that’s a good idea...” but trailed off when it was
obvious she was no longer paying attention.

“Why does Changmin look so grumpy today?” she asked, looking over Yunho’s shoulder. “I
think he’s glaring at me.”

“He always looks like that,” he said, dismissively, trying hard not to turn around and look. Also
we’re not really talking, he added to himself, dispirited.

A beat later and Changmin was standing beside them. Yunho watched him as he glared down at
Ara, and Ara looked up at Changmin with some alarm.

“You’re standing in my spot,” Changmin told her.

Ara balked. Yunho pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and tried desperately not to laugh.

She looked around them, at the cold backstreet, the parked van and the various milling staff. “I’m
in your... spot?”

“Yes,” Changmin answered, “so move. Now, please.”

She started to side-step away. “I’ll just... go over here and... talk to these guys.”

“Okay then, bye,” he said, rudely, and went and stood in front of Yunho.

The laughter bubbling up from his stomach died down. He looked down at his shoes, then up to
Changmin’s perfect chin.

“You looked like you needed to be rescued,” said Changmin, softly.

Yunho looked at him them, into his sad doe eyes, and gave him a small smile. He then turned his
smile into a cheeky smirk and punched his dongsaeng’s shoulder. “You’re so fucking rude.”

Changmin smirked back. “And you’re pretentious and up yourself. What’s your point?”

“No point. Want to go practice some action moves?”

“Yeah, but only because you obviously need it, and I feel really sorry for you.”

They started walking to the warehouse entrance. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’m U-Know Yunho – “

“You’re a pain in my ass – “

Yunho stole his gun prop from its belt holster around Changmin’s hips as they entered the
warehouse. “Pi-eww, pi-eww,” he exclaimed, pointing it at the other man’s head.

Changmin jerked into laughter, covering his mouth and stumbling away. “’Pi-eww pi-eww’?
Really, hyung?”

“Oh?” Yunho followed him and slung an arm over his shoulders. “Then how would you do it?”

Changmin reached around behind Yunho and stole his gun, then swirled around and pointed it at
Yunho’s heart. “Chk-chk boom!”

Yunho threw his head back and laughed, then clutched his chest suddenly, shuddering and
stumbling around, moaning, “Oh, I’m dying! You’ve killed me!” He pretended to pull his own
heart from his chest and hand it to Changmin. “Look, my heart! It’s bleeding for you, and only for
you!”

Changmin laughed harder, staggering clumsily into the nearest table. “You’re so corny!”

The director called Yunho over to try the martial arts choreography, where Yunho had to kick
stunt men while standing on a poker table. He did a very clumsy kick and almost fell off the safety
mat. “Let me try that again,” he told the staff, then peaked a look at Changmin, who was watching
from the side, arms crossed over his chest. “Stop watching me!” Yunho told him, shouting to be
heard. “You’re making me nervous.”

Changmin raised his eyebrows mockingly. “Why? There’s nothing of yours I haven’t seen – “ He
broke off and went pink.

It was Yunho’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Fine then, stay there, see if I care.” He smiled to
himself as he turned around and stepped off the mat.

Sometime during the filming of his fight scene Changmin hurt his ankle. On further examination
by one of the stunt team they found it wasn’t too badly twisted but it was too weak to do more
fight scenes with, so they ended the filming. “I have most of what I need anyway,” the director
told them, as he viewed the footage.

“Typical,” Yunho commented as he took Changmin’s arm and put it around his own shoulders.
“You did this to get attention.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Changmin. He winced a little as together they gingerly
walked out of the warehouse, Changmin leaning his weight on Yunho. “You know I hate
attention.”

“From the public, you hate it,” Yunho agreed, “but you love it when it’s from me.”

Changmin’s lips turned down into a half-frown, half-pout. “Must you have everything?” he said
quietly, hair falling into his eyes.

Yunho stared at him, and wondered what he meant.

“Hold on,” Yunho said eventually. He allowed Changmin’s arm to slip from his shoulders before
he crouched down in front of him. “Get on my back.”

“What?” He heard the other man shuffle clumsily behind him. “No!”

“Come on,” Yunho impelled, “no one’s looking.”

There was a pause in which Changmin must have been looking around. Yunho waited, then felt
Changmin’s arms slide against his neck, over his shoulders and chest. He carefully grabbed his
dongsaeng’s legs then let him lean his weight on Yunho’s back. Then Yunho used his power to
push back up to standing.

Changmin was pretty heavy. Yunho adjusted him on his back a little, then started shuffling
towards their car. Gravel crunched under his feet. Behind them, the sun was setting, casting a
warm glow over the littered industrial street. Changmin’s arms tightened themselves around his
chest momentarily before he said, softly, “Hyung, thank you.”

“We’re not quite there yet,” said Yunho, but his heart warmed and he smiled to himself, hoping
Changmin wouldn’t see how in love he’d become.

He helped Changmin into the car and then got in himself, then drove away. They were both quiet.

At the apartment car park, he parked in their spot, then turned off the engine.

They sat there, and said nothing, staring at the car park wall in front of them.

“You know,” began Yunho, after a long silence, “I’ve always wanted to go sit in our car, like this,
on a hill overlooking the city. You know, like in movies.”

Changmin didn’t say anything, and when Yunho looked over he saw that the other man was
smiling slightly, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Yunho sighed, looking back at the wall, “it’s stupid.”

“We’ll never have that life, you know,” said Changmin, quietly.

“We can have some things,” Yunho told him, before plucking up the courage to undo his seat belt,
turn in his seat, lean over and kiss Changmin’s lips.

It was only for a moment, but Yunho closed his eyes revelled in the feel of Changmin’s soft
mouth against his, before moving away and sitting back in his seat again.

Changmin didn’t move.

Yunho got out of the car then went around to the passenger side and opened the door. He turned
and crouched down, then stayed there, patiently waiting for Changmin to get on his back again.

Changmin did, sliding his arms around his neck and letting Yunho hold his legs. Changmin shut
the car door after Yunho stood up.

In the elevator they didn’t speak, and Changmin didn’t try to get off. Instead he leaned his head
forward and slid his warm cheek against Yunho’s.

Back at the apartment, Yunho gently deposited Changmin onto his bed, then kneeled down in
front of him and gently took off his sock to have a look.

Yunho inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Looks bruised,” he told him as he gently cradled his
foot. “I’ll get you an ice pack.”

When Yunho came back from the kitchen, he found Changmin leaning back on his hands on his
bed. He had taken off his jacket and jumper and had unbuttoned his white shirt. Yunho’s eyes
travelled from his exposed throat down the long strip of visible skin. He saw one brown nipple
where the shirt didn’t quite cover. He tried to ignore Changmin’s seductive, heavy-lidded look and
kneeled down in front of him again.
“Ah!” exclaimed Changmin after Yunho had placed the ice pack on his ankle. “Cold...”
Changmin leaned forward and touched Yunho’s head gently. “I need you to help me take off my
pants.”

Yunho looked up at him and saw his heated gaze, lips parted, eyes burning with a hidden fire.
Yunho’s breath quickened.

He gently lowered Changmin’s foot and stood up as Changmin leaned back on his elbows.
Yunho’s shaking hands went to Changmin’s belt, undoing it, before popping open the button and
slowly zipping down the fly. He then put his fingers under the waist band and tugged down,
getting the pants over his hips, thighs, calves and then gently over his feet.

He let them crumple to the floor, and then stared at them.

He moved.

Yunho got on top of Changmin and kissed him hard. He lifted the leg with the sore ankle and bent
it, placing it around to rest on his back and consequently spreading Changmin’s legs, using the
position to grind his hips down. They moaned into each other’s mouths, and Yunho penetrated
Changmin’s mouth deeply with his tongue. He reached between them and forced his hand down
Changmin’s boxer briefs, touching his member and stroking firmly, causing his dongsaeng to
break his mouth away from Yunho’s and moan, throwing his head back and exposing his throat.

Yunho mouthed at his neck, over his adam’s apple and to the side where he knew it was most
sensitive. He used his grip on Changmin’s thigh to spread his legs even further apart, wanting to
fit in there like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Yah!” Changmin suddenly exclaimed as he was jostled. “Aigo..”

Yunho pulled away from him, gently placing his leg down onto the bed. “I should make you some
dinner,” said Yunho, pulling away and not looking him in the eye.

Changmin grabbed him. “No wait, it’s fine – “

Yunho looked at him and saw the fear in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed him softly, as a
promise.

Even with Changmin’s weak ankle they’d managed to get the music video filmed without going
over time. The music video was not the problem – it was the dance practice the following week,
despite Changmin’s ankle having healed within that time.

The choreographer showed them some of the moves. After a particularly sexy move, there was
murmur from the dancers around them, and Changmin was giggling into the back of his hand.

Yunho was nodding. I can do that, he thought to himself.

“Isn’t that a little controversial?” Changmin asked in that tactless, frank way he had.

Choreo-sshi sauntered over and stopped right in front of him. Changmin leaned back a little,
seeming dismayed at this sudden attack of his personal space. “This is an expression of the lyrics –
of a man’s memory of their hot, desperate love-making!”

Changmin blushed and his eyes flicked to Yunho then back again. He stepped back and bowed
shortly. “I understand.”
Appeased, Choreo-sshi pivoted on his heel and strode back to the front. “Again. Music!”

Later that evening Yunho and Changmin practiced in their lounge room. Yunho took a break and
sat on the couch, then watched Changmin do the sexier moves over and over. He watched the
way Changmin smacked his chest and then slid his hand down his body while his hips undulated.

Yunho watched unblinkingly, then swallowed.

Changmin stopped and put his hands on his hips. “This is really hard,” he sighed. “I wish I had
your talent.”

Yunho stared at his hips, then blinked rapidly before looking up enquiringly. “Talent? For what?”

His dongsaeng gave him a long, unimpressed look. “For dancing..?”

“You’re a good dancer,” Yunho told him, absently. “Really good.”

Changmin visibly deflated and moved to sit down next to Yunho. Yunho grabbed his hips before
he could.

“Hey,” whispered Yunho, “hey. Uh. Remember that understanding we had, that time?” He
swallowed nervously. “Remember?”

Changmin froze, staring down at him with wide, scared eyes. “What?”

“You know, the ‘this and that’ thing we had.” He thumbed Changmin’s hip bones.

Changmin scoffed. “You think just because you ask for it, I’m just going to give it to you?”

“Wasn’t that the deal?” Yunho asked honestly. Changmin’s expression went dark. “You’re just
using me because you want to experiment, right?”

Changmin leaned over and grabbed the front of Yunho’s t-shirt, yanking him up off the couch and
then walking off, Yunho stumbling behind with his shirt bunched in Changmin’s fist. “Changmin-
ah! What the hell - ?”

Changmin took him to Yunho’s room, grabbed him with both hands and threw him on the bed.
He crawled on top of him, straddling Yunho’s hips. “Is this what you want?” Changmin
demanded as he pulled Yunho’s shirt off and up over his head.

“God yes,” gasped Yunho, reaching to undo Changmin’s shirt before his hands were slapped
away. Changmin undid Yunho’s jeans and practically ripped them off along with his underwear,
then he grabbed him and used his strength to force Yunho onto his front.

Yunho did easily enough. He stared wide-eyed at his own pillow, then tentatively looked over his
shoulder.

Changmin’s head was bent as he busily undid his own jeans. Yunho spread his legs further,
rubbing them against the sheets, and reached over to his bedside table and rummaged in his
bottom drawer for condoms and lube. He reached behind to pass them to Changmin. “Hurry up,
will you?” said Yunho, his cock so hard he thought he was going to come just from the feel of the
sheets alone.

Changmin slapped him on the ass.

Yunho gasped. Then he moaned as he felt lubricated fingers spreading him open and spear into
him. He bit into the soft pillow as he felt Changmin lean over him, line himself up and push in
slowly. He pulled out, then pushed back in, roughly.

Yunho made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as Changmin started to thrust into him,
forcefully, the movement causing friction with Yunho’s hips and the bed sheets. Yunho moaned
loudly and realised too late that he was about to come embarrassingly early –

He did, grunting into his pillow and blacking out momentarily.

As he was coming to he felt Changmin pulling out and turning him over, more gently this time,
and Yunho let him, blinking away the aftershocks of his orgasm. Then Changmin quietly spread
Yunho’s legs, bending them and pushing them up. He braced himself over him and caught his
gaze, fringe falling into his eyes.

He looked a little guilty.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

In answer Yunho held his hips and pulled, allowing Changmin to enter him again. Changmin
began again with an easy push-pull, slow, before speeding up. Yunho held on to his shoulders as
Changmin thrust faster, trying not to hit his head on the headboard. Yunho relaxed, closed his
eyes, enjoyed the feel of the other man inside him; of his breath on Yunho’s face.

When Changmin came, Yunho held him close.

The next morning Yunho awoke first. He gazed at the window and contemplated the rays of
sunshine as they struggled to light the room through the closed blinds. Then he looked to the side
and saw Changmin in bed next to him, once again on the far side, curled away from him.

Yunho sighed.

He moved over to the sleeping form carefully so as not to jostle him awake. He slowly leaned up
on one elbow, then his hand, and leaned over him.

Changmin was face was mostly buried in his soft pillow and his hair was a dark mess against his
cheeks. The duvet didn’t quite reach his bare shoulders. Yunho lifted a hand slowly, reaching over
him, intending to push his fringe away from his eyes –

Changmin abruptly woke up, eyes wide, staring first at Yunho and then at Yunho’s hand, which
was hovering a short distance from Changmin’s chin.

Yunho slowly pulled his hand away. “Good morning,” he croaked out.

Changmin stared at him with his big brown eyes for a beat, before they slid away. “Yeah,” he
said, unenthusiastically.

Yunho didn’t want to get up just yet, though he knew soon his stomach would be grumbling for
breakfast. He laid back down and stared at the ceiling. He breathed through his nose – once, twice
– gathering his courage – then his moved his hand under the sheets, searching for Changmin’s
hand with his fingers.

As if sensing what he was trying to achieve, Changmin’s fingers found his own and held on,
squeezed, then linked with his.
Yunho heard him move, sheets rustling, then Changmin let go of his hand and instead put his arm
around his torso and his head on Yunho’s shoulder. Changmin’s hair tickled Yunho’s chin.

Yunho held his breath and a tried not to hope too hard, not smile too wide, as Changmin wiggled
closer and tangled their legs together. Yunho was also aware of how naked they were, and as
soon as Changmin’s whole front was against his body he also became aware of his dongsaeng’s
hardness against his thigh. He smoothed one hand up Changmin’s arm and the other touched his
back, softly running his fingers over his back, side and shoulder.

They said nothing.

Yunho turned his head, slowly, nudging his chin against Changmin’s forehead gently. Changmin
got the message, tilting his head up – shuffling closer to one another – and their lips met, softly,
easy, gentle, and a little chaste at first, until Yunho daringly slipped his tongue in to caress his.
Changmin tasted of musk and sleep, but he was so soft and warm.

Then Yunho heard a noise outside the room: first the front door opening and closing, then some
kind of metallic clanking, and voices.

“What - ?” Yunho croaked out before knocks sounded at his bedroom door.

He and Changmin froze.

Just as his door was opening, Changmin grabbed the duvet and ninja-rolled off the bed, covering
himself with the fluffy bundle of bedclothes on the floor, half-hidden from the doorway by the
bed, leaving Yunho with just a sheet to cover his modesty.

Coordi-noona came in. Yunho pulled the sheet up to his chest and bent his knees, shy and as
uncomfortable as all hell. She stared at him, blonde hair falling into her eyes.

“You’re not up,” she accused. She squinted at him. “Do you normally sleep without pyjamas?”

He ignored the question. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, scandalised. “H-how did you
get in?”

“I have a key,” she answered, looking at him as if to say, ‘You should know this!’

“Who else has a key?”

“Manager-sshi,” she replied shortly. “Obviously. Please get up, we have lots to do.” She turned to
leave the room. “And I suppose I have to go wake up Changmin – “

“I’ll wake him up!” Yunho said quickly. She looked at him in dismay. “Because – because he
wasn’t feeling well. Last night... and yeah, he might still look a fright.”

She gave him a long look, then left the room, her expression incredulous.

Turned out she and her assistant had been thrown into a sudden, stressful situation whereby they
were due to clothe Yunho and Changmin for several photoshoots, interviews and live
performances for Before U Go promotions. She had dragged portable racks of clothing all the way
up to their apartment and spent the next two hours fitting them while they practiced their newest
single.

It was from this day, just when Yunho thought his relationship with Changmin would evolve
directly into a blissful concatenation of love, lust and deep brotherhood, that their schedule became
truly hectic.
From studio sessions to training to television to radio – waking up at six in the morning and going
to bed at midnight – flights to Japan - work, work and some more work. In his usual style Yunho
gave all he had, gave one hundred and ten percent, and yet that insidious thing - the feelings
caught at the end of a look, the seduction in Changmin’s simple movements, the frustration risen
from the memory of sex, the timbre of their love songs, the heady smell of sweat after training, the
gestures –

It kept Yunho’s heart in a state of turbulence, his body pulled taut and thrumming, muscles tense.
How some mornings he woke and looked to the side, and saw that Changmin wasn’t there. He
would touch the sheets on that side and would imagine that they were warm.

After a week of this he was woken in the middle of the night by someone hovering over him. A
shadow, caught only by the city lights shining through the window, eyes wide and hair hanging,
teeth white, lips slightly parted.

Yunho kissed Changmin that night. He thought it was a beautiful dream, something his desperate
mind had conjured. It felt so real, Changmin’s skin was so soft, his lips on his ripe and his tongue
slick against his. He could not believe what he was seeing, feeling, even as Changmin grasped
Yunho and lowered himself down, back arching, nipples hard, head thrown back, high moan
caught in his throat and then released like a song bird’s morning call. Yunho felt inside him and he
was hot, and tight, and so good.

In the morning Changmin was not in his bed, but his side of the bed was warm.

At the company Yunho leaned his forehead on his locker and breathed harshly, taking in lungfuls
of air; pressed his hand to his mouth and suppressed the panic attack as best he could, gasping into
his palm as if he could catch each gasp and throw them away.

He punched the locker: bang.

Bang.

Bang.

One morning he got creative and went into the shower when Changmin was in there, slicked up
and wet.

Yunho registered surprise on Changmin’s expression as Yunho stepped up behind him under the
spray, then Changmin’s eyes darkened into lust as he turned his face away and leaned two hands
on the tiles. Yunho watched him as he flattened his back and spread his legs, skin shiny and slick.
He used soap as a lubricant and as he lined himself up he whispered in Changmin’s ear:

“The other night – was it your first time?”

A nod.

Yunho pushed in a little.

“Did you like it?”

Another nod.

The offshoot movie for the repackaged album had been particularly difficult. They’d made them
pose in different states of undress, then made them pose together, leaning on one another or
Yunho’s personal favourite: Changmin shoved up behind him. All the light and the cameras had
not been enough to suppress his want and so he’d swallowed down his feelings and thought as
many unsexy thoughts as possible, barely hearing the directions through the roar in his ears.

It must have gotten to Changmin too, because as soon as they’d parked the car in their apartment
car park Changmin had grabbed him and kissed him hard.

They pulled their faces away slightly and Yunho stared at his mouth and palmed his cheek. Then
he leaned forward and mouthed Changmin’s long neck, tickling him with the stubbe that was
already starting to regrow so late at night. He massaged his lean shoulders, fingers splayed over
his wing-like shoulder blades and thumbs lingering on the creases where his arms and back met.

Changmin pulled away sat in his seat proper. He looked out the window, away from Yunho, face
cast in shadow. Yunho stared at his hair, at the way the product in it was starting to fail at keeping
it slick. It was so sweet, the way Changmin’s hair curled against his ear.

“Hyung,” Changmin croaked out, still not looking at him, “we’re just friends.”

Yunho swallowed.

“Yeah,” he said.

Yunho saw Changmin’s jaw clench.

Back in the apartment Changmin bent him over the bed and fucked him hard and violent, Yunho’s
face pressed into the sheets.

Yunho had never come so hard in his life.

It was the final dance practice session for Before U Go. In the first hour a handful of members
from Super Junior and SHINee came to watch. After Yunho, Changmin and their dancers had
managed to do the full dance without doing any mistakes, Heechul, Minho and Jonghyun
applauded.

Yunho grinned then practically collapsed on the spot, sitting down on his backside and lounging
with his legs stretched out in front of him. Some of the dancers repeated some moves, but Yunho’s
gaze was on Changmin, who was walking over to talk to the SHINee boys.

Heechul came over and plonked himself down next to Yunho.

“So sexy,” commented Heechul. He wiggled where he sat, shimmying his shoulders. “They way
you move baby, ohh yeah!”

Yunho laughed as he tried to regulate his breathing. Then he could see Heechul giving him a sly,
side-eyed look.

Yunho swallowed. “What is it?”

Heechul pulled his jumper’s sleeve over his knuckles and used it to wipe the sweat from Yunho’s
temple. Yunho stared at him – at the small smile gracing his lips.

“I miss you, Yunho,” Heechul told him eventually, and Yunho knew he wasn’t talking about just
seeing each other as friends. “It’s been a while since we shared some quality time together.”

Yunho looked away and at the dancers in front of him. “Yeah? I assumed you were a bit bored
with me.”
“You darling?” said Heechul playfully, leaning forward, lips close to Yunho’s ear. “I could never
get bored with you – “

Yunho snorted.

“Let’s do it again,” said Heechul bluntly. “You and me, this and that.”

Yunho clenched his jaw and tried desperately not to look at Changmin at the side of the room.
“Yeah I – yeah, not this time, hyung.”

When he finally looked at Heechul he saw that his hyung was stunned: eyes wide and mouth
hanging open. Yunho scrutinised him with some alarm. Then he remembered that Heechul had
probably never been rejected before.

He tried to appease him by giving him a smile and a careless shrug of his shoulders.

Heechul closed his mouth, thought for a bit, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Then
he looked at Yunho with dawning realisation. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed in English. Then he
added in a loud whisper, “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?”

Yunho looked around to make sure no one was listening in. He saw that Changmin was
surreptitiously watching them from the side of the room as he conversed with SHINee, but he was
most likely too far away to hear Yunho and Heechul’s conversation. “I – Yeah,” Yunho affirmed,
and Heechul gasped, hands flying to his mouth in overacted shock. “Don’t tell anyone, will you.”

“No, no way! I promise. Who is it? It is someone from F(X)? Oh god! Please tell me she’s not
from Girls Day! Those bitches are crazy.” He gasped dramatically. “Is it Ara? You do know you
guys are kind of a train wreck, right?”

“It’s none of them,” Yunho quickly corrected, before making the proverbial fatal mistake of
looking up and locking eyes with Changmin across the room.

Heechul caught the look. He was so astonished he didn’t even gasp this time, he only stared at
Yunho, then Changmin, then gave Yunho a concerned look. He opened his mouth to speak –

“Don’t say it,” Yunho interrupted and Heechul’s mouth snapped shut.

Then Heechul shook his head and said, “Dangerous, Yunho. So dangerous.”

Yunho stood up. “Five minutes then we go again,” he told the dancers. They nodded and
murmured affirmatives. Yunho left the room, and as he was going through the door he caught
Changmin’s gaze and threw him a look:

Follow me, it said.

Yunho went straight into the change rooms and into a change cubicle. A second later Changmin
followed, and as soon as Changmin was in the small space with him and had locked the door they
grabbed each other and kissed, hard, and desperate. Changmin sucked on Yunho’s tongue and
Yunho inhaled through his nose, trying to pick up Changmin’s scent. Their bodies were slammed
together so tight they might as well have been one being.

Finally they pulled their mouths away but not too far, and leaned their foreheads together.

Yunho came right out with it: “Heechul offered,” he told him.

Changmin leaned his face away a little and glared hard, eyes practically spitting fire. “Are you
asking for my permission?”

Yunho shook his head.

“Good,” said Changmin, and the one uttered word sounded course and gravelly with suppressed
emotion. “Because you know,” he continued, still with that strange voice, “I would have said no.”
And then he added, “I want to kill him.”

Yunho watched him closely and observed the tense set of his shoulders, the hard line of his mouth
and flushed cheeks. Yunho realised belatedly that they were both breathing harshly and that his
heart was beating too fast. He thought, I’m going to have a heart attack. He looked at Changmin’s
chin and tried to calm down.

Changmin rolled his eyes and left the cubical, slamming the door open so hard it hit the wall then
vibrated on its hinges. He stormed away, past the lockers, then he turned around again and strode
back to Yunho. He braced himself on the cubical doorway with both hands.

Yunho knew Changmin was staring at him, but he couldn’t look.

“I want to be exclusive,” Changmin barked out suddenly, throwing the words out as if he hated
them and they’d been inside him for a while. “I – “ He faltered. “I don’t like sharing, hyung.”

Yunho slid his eyes over to him, then away again. “What you’re saying,” he said quietly, “is so
dangerous.”

“I don’t c-care,” Changmin told him, and the last word seemed to be caught in his throat. “We can
still be just friends,” Changmin continued, and Yunho thought it sounded like a lie. “Let’s just...
not have other fuck buddies.”

“Okay,” said Yunho. He finally looked up into his eyes and Changmin held out his hand.

Yunho took it, and brushed his knuckles with his thumb.

Dawn | Three months later

Yunho misses Changmin like crazy. He checks his phone every ten minutes and when he can’t do
that he throws himself into work, hard, dancing like he’s never danced before.

When Changmin does message him his texts are short but sweet:

Hawaii so beautiful u jealous~? ^^

Yeh I no ur working hard but guess wat I’m not~ hehe actually I am

Food here so good ^^ keke

As he’s heading to Boa’s trailer he writes Changmin the text message, ‘I miss you’ then stares at
it, thumb hovering over the send button then the cancel button –

Boa shoves him from behind and he accidentally presses a button on his phone. Alarmed, he
stares at the screen and the little animation that shows a message being sent.

“Oh fuck,” he says, in despair.

Boa cackles. “You did so well today, Yun-dol,” she tells him, linking her arm through his and
leading him, “except for one thing...”

“Oh yeah?” he asks as they enter her trailer.

“You’re pining like a little bitch,” she says, then laughs uproariously at her own joke. She gets
them some beers and they sit on the steps to enjoy the night air. A few minutes later she says,
“You don’t need to tell me who it is, but I have to ask, are you happy?”

He stares at his phone’s blank screen. “Yes,” he answers, “at least I think so. It’s a little
complicated.”

“As complicated as it was with Jaejoong-oppa?”

He cups the phone in his hands and looks up at the stars. “So much worse.”

She scrutinises him for a moment, then says, “You’ve got it bad.”

His phone beeps signalling a new text message. It’s from Changmin, and it’s only one thing:

<3

Yunho’s phone rings in the middle of the night.

“You awake?” asks Changmin on the other end. His voice sounds muffled.

“Uh,” Yunho mumbles, blinking himself awake. He rubs his eyes. “Yeah, no not really.”

He can hear munching on the other end.

“Are you –“ Yunho starts. “Are you eating?”

“Hyung,” Changmin mumbles before swallowing. “The fruit here... so juicy...”

A moment of silence and then Changmin asks, “Are you sleeping?”

“Hnn,” Yunho mumbles.

Changmin whispers, “I miss you too.”

Yunho blinks his eyes open and looks at the moon out the window. He runs the back of his hand
over the pillow next to him. “Wish you were here.”

Yunho hears Changmin-style giggles on the other end. “No hyung, you wish you were here. It’s...
this place, fills my heart with joy.”

“We’ll go there again one day,” says Yunho, as he lets his eyes fall shut again.

There’s a beat of silence then Changmin says, “Better not,” and Yunho can hear the signal in his
voice: he’s shut himself away again. Not for the first time Yunho wishes he could break down that
hard barrier Changmin erects when talk of spending time together in public arises. Yunho hates
that they can’t be seen together in public as a couple, holding hands, going on dates and doing the
sort of things the average couple does.

Besides, they’d also never talked about the friends-with-benefits relationship they have, not since
that time in the change room three months ago.

“Hyung- “ Changmin starts.

“It can be our honeymoon destination,” Yunho interrupts. “First we’ll get married in Korea – a
traditional wedding. You’ll be my beautiful bride, with decorations in your hair.”

“Hyung,” says Changmin, a little sharply, though Yunho can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “If
anyone’s the bride, it’s you.”

“Aigo,” says Yunho, pouting, “my wife is angry with me, what shall I do? What shall I do?”

“Hyung...”

“Min,” he says as he pulls the sheet over his head, “sing me a song.”

Changmin is studying Japanese as he lies on the couch. He holds the book up in the air and
Yunho wonders if his arms are sore. Yunho shuts the front door and dumps his gym bag on one of
the kitchen chairs. Changmin looks side-ways from where he’s lying and gives the bag a
disapproving look.

“I’ll deal with it in a minute,” Yunho tells him as he comes over. He crawls over him and plants
himself behind, lying down so he’s half-spooning him. Changmin lets out a long-suffering sigh
and places the book on his chest. “How was skating practice?”

“I suck,” Yunho confides. “I really suck.”

“No you don’t,” Changmin tells him matter-of-factly, picking up his book again and flicking
through the pages. “You’re amazing,” his says absently.

Yunho’s heart swells. He touches Changmin’s hair and fingers a strand, pushing it behind his
dongsaeng’s ear. From this close Yunho can see Changmin’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek as
he blinks several times. It’s in these moments that Yunho thinks that Changmin is the most
beautiful man in the world. He’s good-looking with make-up and he’s in front of the cameras; but
like this, fresh faced and natural, five o’clock shadow, hair a mess, glasses crooked... he is
stunning.

Yunho palms Changmin’s chest and brushes his mouth against his ear.

Changmin makes a small hissing sound in disapproval. “I suppose it’s time for our usual friends-
with-benefits ‘this and that’ session?” he asks blatantly.

“Changmin,” Yunho begins seriously, hand on Changmin’s chest stilling. “I think it’s pretty
obvious we’re not fuck buddies anymore. I don’t think we have been for a while.”

Changmin’s not looking at him and Yunho watches him closely. Changmin’s breathing ceases,
and his lips tighten. Colour is flooding his cheeks and when he starts breathing again it’s deep,
uncontrollable breaths.

“I love you,” Yunho tells him.

Changmin’s eyes half close and his eyes move from side to side. His jaw clenches.

“That’s nice,” he says eventually, as emotionless as a statue. Yunho smirks, then attempts to hide
it by pressing his mouth to Changmin’s shoulder.

“’I love you too, hyung,’” says Yunho, trying to mimic Changmin’s soft, musical voice. “’I’ve
loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you – ‘”
Changmin elbows him in the ribs.

“’Hyung baby,’” Yunho continues with his bad impersonation, “’I want you to make a man out of
me – ‘”

It had the desired result: Changmin bursts out laughing, book pressed to his face. His laughter
causes him to spasm so hard he falls off the couch. Yunho moves over a bit then leans his chin on
his hands as he peers over to look at the heap on the floor Changmin has made of himself. He
waits patiently for Changmin to sober, and he does, eventually, though he stays curled up on the
floor.

Yunho stares at him another moment then says, “You don’t have to say it – “

“I do though,” says Changmin, and he glances up at him from his position on the floor. He
examines a fingernail. “I do love you, I mean. I have for ages. So long – so many years – you
have no idea just how long.” Yunho stares at Changmin and Changmin stares at his fingernail,
hard. “You have no idea,” he repeats quietly.

Yunho suppresses the tight feelings gathering in his throat and his sinuses – he doesn’t cry in front
of people and he’s not about to start – and he crawls to the floor and wraps his arms around
Changmin from behind. He kisses his neck, his shoulder, his cheek, and burries his nose in his
hair and inhales. Changmin smooths his hands down Yunho’s arms, then when he reaches his
hands he links their fingers together.

They could have sex if they want to, but Yunho feels no urgency in this moment; he wants only to
hold Changmin against him because he is precious. Because he is his.

--End

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