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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

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[12b] Once Upon A Time...
Title: Once Upon A Time...
Series: The Trophy Wife
Pairing: HoMin, JaeChun, JaeMin (BFFery)
Rating: NC-17
Length: One-shot
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. Please don't kill me.

Summary: Where it all began on that lovely summer’s day… Seventeen year old Shim Changmin, best man to fellow top supermodel Kim Jaejoong, is feeling out of sorts at the prospect of losing the only family he’s ever known since he was fourteen. Unable to take it out on the older groom, he finds his next closest victim. The groom’s best man.

AN1: I wrote ALL of this at work. Every last fucking word at work. I barely made word count ;;

AN2: Unbeta-ed as usual and all mistakes are mine :O

“Do you understand the concept of personal space?” Changmin grits out of the corner of his mouth as he forces a smile for the camera. Jaejoong has decided to do everything backwards, always needing to be different, or as Changmin had bluntly put it to his best friend after an hour of this nonsense, difficult.

They’re busy taking photos and making half of all the movers and shakers in East Asia wait patiently in the Ruby Hall of The Shilla Seoul. The entire hotel has been booked out by the Park Wedding, and the Ruby Hall is merely the venue for the solemnization ceremony. The dinner itself will be held in the Grand Ballroom, aptly named Dynasty for it’s clear Jaejoong is determined to forge his very own Park-Kim Dynasty if he has his way.

“Perfectly,” comes the cheerful response as the man takes a step closer.

“This is not opposites day, no matter what Jaejoong might think,” Changmin bites out, resisting the urge to elbow the man away from his side. He feels really bad for wishing it, but he can’t wait for the damn solemnization ceremony to be over and done with, and then they have five free hours before he needs to make an appearance at the dinner preparations. Due to his hectic schedule, this is the first rest Changmin has had in months, and Jaejoong had promised not to bother him for the five hours they have. Both Jaejoong and Micky will be taking photographs with the guests and then around Seoul, but Changmin had been given a free pass to leave.

Jaejoong sends a look over his shoulder at the couple. Changmin might think he’s being quiet, but his barely contained irritation can be heard by both he and his future husband. Micky, late because he’d misplaced his fucking speech and spent all that time hunting for the damn thing, also turns around to watch the two.

He however gets distracted by a pale elfin ear, delicately curved and just begging to be nibbled.

Micky Park Yoochun leans forward for a taste, only to get an elbow to the sternum that stops him in his tracks.

“Later. Go check the photos. I have a feeling Changmin is not looking his best.”

“It’s our wedding, not his. Who cares if he doesn’t look great?” Micky grumbles as he reluctantly lets go of the teenager, and waves the cameraman over.

“Keep talking like that and you’ll find yourself all alone in the Shilla Suite tonight.” Jaejoong responds flatly as he looks into the camera. He wrinkles his nose, pouting at the photos he’s presented with, and the obviously squabbling couple behind him. The cameraman had even managed to catch Changmin mid grimace as he leans away from a smirking Jung Yunho.

He sighs. Maybe he should really just get it over and done with and let Changmin rest. It’s his wedding and he’s still looking out for the younger boy. Jaejoong is fully aware that it bugs Micky, but tough shit for him because Changmin is still number one in Jaejoong’s heart.

Just not in his pants.

“Alright, fine. Let’s get this over and done with. Minnie-ah,” Jaejoong twists to look at the sulking teen. “Just the ceremony and then you can go ok? Can you smile for me, please?”

Changmin steps forward and away from Yunho’s insufferable presence, glad to be rid of the obnoxious man. He can practically smell the fool all over his clothes. He’s going to have to have a thorough shower just to be able to sleep because he’s fucking sure the man’s scent is practically in his pores. He can only be thankful that the ceremony will put them at opposite sides of the aisle. He has no idea how much more of this he can take.

Every inhalation tightens his balls and makes his cock heavy.

It’s really pissing him off.

He links arms with the shorter man, tugging him away from his husband-to-be without so much as a backward glance. His dipped head and whispered words against Jaejoong’s ear sends a peal of laughter from the gorgeous blond that makes Yunho smile and Micky frown.

The two older man follow in the wake of the two younger men, one still scowling while the other is admiring the length of a certain supermodel’s legs.

“Do you think I’m ever going to win?”

“You’re marrying him, aren’t you? He was only recently named the ultimate ullzzang in some magazine. I didn’t read the article but he was on the cover so I’d say you won something.”

“Yes, but why do I get the distinct impression that I’m still trailing behind that pit bull he calls friend?”

“Pitbull? Changmin?”

“He’s all snarl and not much else.”

Yunho laughs, making the two men ahead of him turn around curiously. One is smiling, and the other, scowling.

Unbeknowst to both pairs of men, the photographer takes that moment to snap a photo, capturing the moment.

A frowning Micky Park Yoochun is balanced out by a smiling Kim Jaejoong.

The clearly amused Jung Yunho is also balanced out by another supermodel.

A thundercloud by the name of Shim Changmin.

Changmin is trying his damnedest to look away.

He really is.

But the man’s gaze is too much. He can practically feel it all over his body, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do. He’s effectively chained to the spot, unable to do anything about the insufferable, obnoxious, too fucking attractive for his own goddamn good, Jung Yunho. The man’s smirk should entitle him a place in hell just for the effect it has.

Changmin shifts his weight again, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He’s not even listening to the marriage celebrant going on and on about the virtues of marriage, as he fights a losing battle with his traitorous body. There are no bouquets for him to hold, so all he can do is clasp his hands in front of his crotch, and hope no one notices the tent in his pants. His eyes are resolutely fixed on Yunho’s own hands, similarly clasped in front of his crotch on the other side of the aisle. The hair on the back of his neck has been standing pretty much since the moment he and Yunho walked down the fucking aisle together.

The man’s presence is overwhelmingly masculine. Changmin felt it acutely as they made the really fucking long walk together. A veteran on the catwalk, the teenager had tried to channel his supermodel training into the walk, more accustomed to stalking down the runway instead of strolling at a sedate pace.

And sedate is definitely the pace set by the infuriating Jung Yunho, for the older man had kept his steps measured and very, very, very fucking slow. Changmin had to tamp down the impulse to slip his hand in the man’s elbow and yank him down the aisle.

Well, that was the first part of the aisle, for the impatient teenager had just about had enough by the time they were halfway through, indeed slipping his hand in the crook of the man’s elbow, and ignoring the husky chuckle from the insufferable man as he squeezes warningly for the man to pick up his damn pace.

To his annoyance, instead of picking up the pace, Yunho reaches over and places his very large hand over the teenager’s instead, effectively holding him in place as they continue their painfully sedate walk down the aisle. Changmin had been unable to help himself as he utters balefully under his breath, keeping his mouth closed and speaking out of the corner of it at the impossible man who’s held him captive.

”Are you a fucking octogenarian or something? Speed it up.”

“A big word for someone so young.”

“Typical of the elderly to point out youthfulness as if it’s a black mark against them.”

“Smile, brat. Everyone’s watching.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d rather be fucking you.”

Changmin had almost stopped dead right there and then in the middle of the damn aisle as he swallows hard. His eyes almost fucking cross at the mental image that brings and he is really starting to loathe the senile old businessman even more.

A part of him wants to punch the man for his audacity.

The other part wants to clear the room and tell Yunho to take him wherever the fuck he wants.

Neither part wins.

And so they keep walking.


There had been a small moment at the end of the long, mentally arduous walk when Changmin had forgotten that he’s the best man and not the groom, and had paused longer than necessary in front of the celebrant, staring expectantly up at him while the man stared right back at him in confusion. He knows that Yunho hadn’t missed that slip-up if the man’s low chuckle and condescending pat of his hand is anything to go by, not to mention his I want to taste you first, brat. If he could punch the man, he really fucking would give him the shiner he threatened Jaejoong with earlier that morning.

His every reaction is a knee jerk defense for Yunho throws him off balance like no other. His attraction to the man is almost animalistic, so rooted in instinct that Changmin is even more bitchy than usual because of it, for he doesn’t know what to do with how his body reacts to the man’s proximity.

Actually, forget proximity, as it’s already way past that.

Every nuanced word sends a lance of pleasure shooting through him.

To his credit, the teenager fights back with whatever shreds of his willpower he has left.

And he’s putting up a damn good fight in his opinion.

It’s just that he’s also smart enough to know he’d already lost the battle long before he even realized he was in one.

What’s left is basically a futile resistance, but the supermodel is damned if he lets the older man win so easily.

If Jung Yunho wants him, he’s going to have to fucking work for it.

Changmin watches as Yunho starts to stroke his thumb with his other index finger. His hands are still clasped but now there’s movement, and the supermodel knows, as well as he knows his own name, that the man is doing it on purpose. The strokes are so slow and languid, nothing at all subconscious about it, and he knows if he looks up, that knowing smirk will greet him. He can feel his body tightening even more, coils of imagined pleasure rolling low in his belly.

Not that he knows what it should feel like, having someone touching his body like that, but every stroke of Yunho’s finger against his own thumb is so deliberate that Changmin can practically feel it on his own skin.

In fact, he can, for he has started to subconsciously mimic the man.

Yunho cannot take his eyes off the stubborn beauty standing opposite him, the supermodel with his back ramrod straight and his pouty mouth pressed into a thin almost unattractive line.

Almost being the key word for Yunho is still painfully attracted.

And he knows full well the attraction is mutual.

He can practically smell the man’s arousal, and the supermodel isn’t fooling anyone with his perfectly placed hands.

Not when Yunho is doing the exact same thing for the exact same reason.

“By the power vested in me, I now declare you married.”

If that wasn’t enough to snap Yunho from his pleasurable contemplation of the tall young man before him, the resultant whoop from Jaejoong does it.

He looks up just in time to see the unmistakable and completely foreign, fond expression on Changmin’s face as he gazes at the smirking blond. A smile that softens his features so considerably that Yunho feels an unwelcome tug somewhere in the vicinity of his chest rather than his pants. The businessman blinks, shaking himself from the odd feeling, but it doesn’t dissipate for Changmin still hasn’t lost the unguarded expression as Jaejoong blows a kiss towards him, before he walks back down the aisle, arm in arm with his new husband, and now officially Park Jaejoong.

Changmin is still smiling when he meets Yunho’s dark eyes, and it takes him a fair few seconds to realize this is not a man he should be smiling at.

Yunho watches in fascination as the supermodel smoothes out his face. It’s as if the smile never happened as his mouth flattens back out, his expression back to being aloof and disdainful instead as they both move to fall in step behind the blissfully wedded couple practically running the down the aisle ahead of them, their laughter coaxing their usually staid and stoic peers to smile and laugh with them.

All except for their paired best friends walking behind them.

They don’t speak, their sleeves brushing with every step.

Every step, Changmin tries to move away.

And the next step always brings Yunho right along with him, till the supermodel is practically bumping into the people along the aisle trying to get away from the insistent man dogging his steps.

“Personal space. You really need to fucking learn it,” Changmin growls under his breath as he is once again feeling trapped.

“My instructions were to escort you back down the aisle. I can’t do that if you’re three steps away.”

“Funny that. I’m sure I’m escorting you.” Changmin smirks as he straightens to his full height, which, given his shoes, gives almost a clean two inches on Yunho. “Short stuff,” he adds a little snidely.

“Height doesn’t mean much.”

“A short man would say that, wouldn’t he?”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“And much too expensive for the likes of you.”

“Are you a whore, too?”

Changmin doesn’t take the bait, eyes still on his gleeful best friend. “Perhaps. But you can’t afford me.” He turns then, eyes glittering as he eyes the older man. “And if you imply Jaejoong is a whore again, I will break your face in front of everyone here and I don’t fucking care if you throw me into jail for it.”

He ends his threat with a smile, a rather scary one that actually reaches his eyes and Yunho has no doubt the supermodel would not only punch him, but take a fair lot of pleasure from it too. His loyalty is admirable. Yunho has noticed that the one thing that will get Changmin up and ready with his arms swinging is shade on Jaejoong. Yunho had purposefully said what he did to see how the supermodel would react, and he’d been a little surprised to see the aspersions cast on his own character completely ignored as he threatens Yunho for the aspersions he’d cast on Jaejoong’s.

Yunho decides to back down for now. Getting the man riled is not going to get him into his bed.

“Easy there. Micky would probably join you.”

“Good man, your friend.”

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” Changmin asks dismissively as they reach the end of the aisle, moving away from Yunho’s side. He heaves a sigh of relief when Yunho doesn’t follow as he snags a flute of champagne from a passing waiter who smirks at him.

Changmin returns the smirk automatically, winking even, making the waiter chuckle as he moves away to offer his wares to the other guests.

“You’d rather have that waiter?”

Changmin resists the urge to stomp his foot in frustration. The heel of his boot to the toe of Yunho’s fifteen hundred dollar Italian leather shoes sounds like a good idea right then. The man really can’t leave him alone.

“My tastes aren’t expensive.”

“They’re indiscriminate. That man’s a slob. He wouldn’t know what to do with you,” Yunho is unable to hide the lacing of disgust in his voice as he follows Changmin through the crowd.

“But I know what to do with him and that’s what matters isn’t it, Yunho-yah?” Changmin replies without considering his words, eyes on his beaming best friend as he tries once again to ignore the man who appears to have no idea when to quit. He is used to bantering and flirting with males and females alike. It’s mostly lip service of course, since most of the males in their industry are like him, and the females are of no interest whatsoever to him. However, so accustomed he is to the automatic predilection to flirt, that he’d infused a far more suggestive lilt in his tone than he intended, even dropping his voice that it comes out huskier than usual as he keeps the back of his blond best friend’s head in his sights. Calling Yunho by name wasn’t a conscious choice, but the effect turns their conversation intimate in an instant.

Something Yunho isn’t prepared for.

Changmin’s ease in calling him so familiarly despite only having met that morning has thrown the industrialist off balance. Barely anyone speaks to him so informally. The only one who does is Micky and he’s known the man almost three decades.

Not three hours.

The bath is hot.

Much hotter than he’s used to but he wants to sleep, and the heat will pretty much ensure he will sleep soundly, and hopefully, immediately.

Jaejoong had allowed him to leave pretty much instantly. The blond beauty had finally turned, eyes meeting Changmin’s immediately for the tall supermodel hadn’t let his best friend out of his sight. A beatific smile on his face as he pushes through the mess, leaving his new husband behind as he fights the congratulating crowd to get to his Changminnie, making good on his promise as he told Changmin he has five blissful hours of not being bothered. And then proceeded to kiss the bemused brunette full on the mouth in front of everyone.

Changmin wonders if Jaejoong will ever change. The man likes stirring up drama wherever he goes, and apparently, this is his wedding and he can do whatever the fuck he wants. He didn’t bother to look Micky’s way, but he’s sure the man can’t be too happy about that. The ink is barely dry on their marriage contract and his trophy wife is already kissing other men.

The teenager knows full well who wears the pants in that relationship.

Though he wonders if Micky’s been clued up just yet.

Laughter echoes around the bathroom.

A full out belly laugh from a very amused supermodel sitting alone in too-hot water, hugging his knees as he expends all the pent up energy he’s been containing since a certain businessman all but took his fucking breath away with eight measly words.

“I’m glad to see you’re in high spirits.”

It’s like he got sucker punched.

A lame movie with an even lamer line flits across his mind.

You had me at hello.

Yunho had him at I.

The laughter chokes off as he starts to feel the tears creeping up on him.

His best friend is gone, and all he has to show for it is some deep rooted pining, he doesn’t even want to fucking acknowledge, of a very dangerous man.

Dangerous because Jung Yunho is more than capable of ruining Shim Changmin.

He had him at fucking I.

Yunho waves the barman over, asking for the same.

His third finger of whiskey and it doesn’t appear like he might be stopping.

Micky and his new wife are no longer in the building, whisked off by several photographers and a multitude of clothing and makeup males and females to take some wedding shots for the dinner that night. Weirdly enough, Jaejoong didn’t want anything done prior to the wedding, wanting the day itself to be everything.

Yunho had pointed out a couple of times to the icy blond supermodel that what he’s planning leaves absolutely no leeway or room for error, and that if the weather doesn’t cooperate, he’d be shit out of luck, and sans wedding photos to boot.

And the blond’s reply?

I fucking dare the weather not to cooperate.

Oh, to be young again.

Yunho always has a backup plan for everything, and Jaejoong’s lack of one disconcerts him on several levels.

His best friend takes it in stride though, the happy go lucky Micky Park Yoochun seems to bask in his former fiancé, now wife’s, craziness. The wedding is exorbitant, but then again it was always going to be no matter who Micky married. The man has a taste for the opulent and it shows in the massive mansion he lives in. Yunho on the other hand, is more than happy in his perfectly sized penthouse, needing no expansive gardens, multiple swimming pools or tennis courts.

In all honesty, he does think the match is a rather suitable one. Jaejoong, while a little too over the top for his tastes, has a rather good head on his shoulders, and his ability to boss everyone around is an asset in a household as large as Micky’s. He doesn’t think the CEO of Park Industries actually noticed though, too enamored by the teenager’s face and body, he knows exactly why Micky married Jaejoong.

His best friend married well, despite the odds. He’ll give him that much.

He is also in for a rather rude surprise when he (finally) realizes his wife isn’t a biddable teenager.

And speaking of biddable…

Yunho can’t get Changmin out of his head.

That man doesn’t have a single biddable bone in his entire body. This, Yunho would almost be willing to bet his empire on. He’s spent most of the morning paying close attention to the sullen brunette who only gives an inch to Jaejoong, and even then, he barely budges. Jaejoong has to practically fight for every victory, and most of the time, Yunho has come to realize, the blond actually backs down before a full out war happens. Whenever he is about to launch into a melodramatic fit, Changmin merely quirks an eyebrow and ignores him.

He doesn’t say much at all, but his eyes, and sometimes his face, speak volumes.

And it is exactly because of those eyes that Yunho is tossing back his third drink and contemplating a fourth.

Micky had warned him for what felt like the millionth time, that Changmin isn’t like Jaejoong. Yunho knows his best friend has it so far wrong though. Yes, the two supermodels aren’t alike in temperament, but they’re both cut from the same cloth.

They’re the type of men who will make your life both hell and heaven, and more often than not, at the very same time.

He has never wanted to possess anyone as badly as he does with Changmin.

And the word is most certainly possess.

Yunho wants to own him.

He wants to ensure there is no doubt whatsoever to whom the stunning supermodel belongs to.

And that’s the part that is keeping him at the bar, and not in search of the brunette who’d vanished mere minutes after a rather spectacular kiss in front of a hundred people who’d been too shocked to do anything but gape.

“Alone, handsome?”

Yunho looks up into a pair of beautiful eyes.

The wrong pair of beautiful eyes.

He stands, nodding to the bartender who acknowledges his departure with a friendly wave, before he turns to the stranger who’d greeted him.

“Not for long.”

Changmin is drying his hair when he hears three sharp raps on his door.

No doorbell.

Someone is actually knocking, as if expecting the person situated within the expansive suite to hear them.

But then again, the quality of these knocks seem to ensure immediate obedience, for Changmin finds himself at the door and ready to open it before his brain catches up with his instinct.

The supermodel swears under his breath, irritated with his body for complying so easily to the summons of someone he wants to avoid at all costs. Oh, he knows exactly who’s on the other side of the door. Only Jung fucking Yunho would be so bold as to push his way onto a private floor. He knows for a fact that Jaejoong had specifically asked for the entire floor to be out of bounds to everyone except his wedding party, and last time he checked, Yunho belongs to the husband side of the wedding party, not the wife.

He opens the door, not bothering to lift the security bar on the door so it only opens six inches.

“All the way, Changmin.”

Bossy as fuck. Seriously, who the fuck does this man think he is?

But again, his body complies before his brain catches up, and the bar is off, though he leaves the door shut, his back against it as three sharp raps come once again.

He can feel each knock reverberating deep in his belly, and his cock is already responding to the presence of the man on the other side of the door.

Changmin wonders how long he should hold out, or whether he should just go fuck it. The man did insinuate he’s a whore after all. Maybe he’ll just give him what he expects, and then Yunho will be gone from his suite, and preferably, his life.

Oh the teenager knows the latter is probably a futile hope. The fact that Jaejoong is married to Micky Park Yoochun will all but ensure that Changmin will bump into Yunho at some point. Now, will he act all worldly like the supermodel whore Yunho expects, or will he behave like the innocent virgin he actually is?

He hates feeling like the only one thrown off balance by the whole damn thing. Three more increasingly short raps on the door behind him, and Changmin makes his decision.

The supermodel pushes away from the door, opening it without even turning around as he walks away, continuing to dry his hair as he heads past the lounge area. He tugs at the belt around his waist, his hand shaking badly and his jaw is clenched tight, but his resolve is strong. He wants Yunho too fucking much to leave this to chance, and the itch needs scratching so badly it actually hurts.

Yunho is about to growl at being kept waiting when he sees the robe drop from the supermodel’s shoulders.

And he almost clean bites his tongue in half.

Holy mother of god.

And in his shock, he forgets to push the security bar back over the door as it shuts with a quiet hush behind him.

He knows he probably looks like a fool, mouth slackened as he remembers the last view he had of a very long, tanned, and completely naked form before Changmin turns the corner and disappears from sight.

Yunho wants nothing more than to follow the shameless supermodel into the bedroom or wherever the fuck he’s disappeared to, but he’s actually genuinely concerned that this is going to be over before it even has a chance to start, and so, with a willpower that surprises even himself, the businessman turns away from following the younger man, eyes searching and locating the stocked bar instead.

Changmin is a mess. His hands are shaking and he is looking a little wild about the eyes as he stares at himself in the mirror. He is both relieved and disappointed that Yunho hadn’t followed him after that excessive display of skin. He is still very much nude, completely at ease with his body, having trained himself to ignore looks sent his way. He is a supermodel, here to sell the clothes and not his body. Anyone who looks at him is looking at the clothes and not at him. He might as well be invisible.

He wants to be invisible.

He likes it that way.

But he doesn’t want to be invisible to Yunho.

And therein lies the problem.

Changmin is pragmatic, and a little too logical for his own good. He knows Yunho wants him. That much was made very clear to him earlier. He also knows a man like Yunho will not be tied down unless it’s on his own terms. Changmin wants nothing to do with that. He enjoys his freedom and he enjoys his work, even though with Jaejoong being married, he knows his life will be a little different.

A little lonelier.

It is this that is truly bothering Changmin. He’s always had Jaejoong. The way blond supermodel had all but adopted him as his younger brother had caused the teenager to resist at first, but that deep seated need within him to belong to someone never ever dissipated. Jaejoong had merely filled that need, but never actually quenched it.

And then Yunho walked in, the older man with a smirk from hell that promises heaven.

Changmin wants to ignore it. Hell, he’s done a damn good job of it, he’s sure of it.

But his body.

His fucking body is betraying him like it’s never betrayed him before.

It’s like his body knows to whom it belongs, and it sure as fuck doesn’t belong to Changmin.

Totally fucked up.

And he’s done fighting it for the sake of fighting it. He knows this is probably going to be a one time thing, and if it is, then he’ll make damn sure it’s something worth remembering for the long cold nights ahead.

A tad melodramatic to be sure, his thoughts are more Jaejoong than Changmin but the supermodel is tired of battling his own body. Not when he can take out the battle on someone else instead.

He squares his shoulders, emptying both his eyes and face of any semblance of emotion as he straightens. The supermodel reaches out a long finger, tracing his features in the mirror, following its progress down his body, feeling his nipples harden as his fingertip grazes their reflection on the cold mirror. His imagination is very good, and Jaejoong is not just a great older brother, he is also the best (or worst) at oversharing intimate details. Changmin always feigns annoyance at being made to listen to all manner of filthy things, but he is a teenager after all, and he does pay attention. The only difference is, all those stories from not just Jaejoong but the other models they work with don’t stir his cock the way the mere idea of Yunho simply speaking about it does.

Yunho just has to quirk his eyebrow, and Changmin will willingly attribute all manner of dirty thoughts to the older man.

The man could be thinking about his expensive shoes for all he knows, and Changmin will be imagining Yunho thinking about stripping him.

It really is that bad.

And so fucking ridiculous.

His mouth purses as he stares at his reflection.

“Well then,” his voice is soft in the large bathroom, almost swallowed by the vast emptiness of the room. “The show must go on.”

Do or die. Seventeen year old Shim Changmin has thrown his lot in with the devil.

Yunho is still nursing his first snifter of brandy when the supermodel finally strolls of out the bedroom with not a care in the world. Cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, with the full pack in his hand, his hair drying into what looks to be hair tending towards curl, face scrubbed completely clean of makeup, the supermodel looks both too young and way too old.

He is actually dressed too, and Yunho is torn between relief and disappointment.

The CEO watches the man move, his steps are measured, calculative, a little too smooth.

His eyes narrow.

“You don’t have to walk like this is a fucking catwalk. I’m already buying what you’re selling.”

Changmin scoffs, turning to perch a hip on a sideboard. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He pulls the cigarette from his lips, willing his hands not to shakes. “I already told you I’m too expensive.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Micky’s bitchy best friend.”

Yunho resists the urge to chuckle. The man is trying too hard.

“I thought that description more apt to you.”

Changmin shrugs as he pushes away from the sideboard to stalk towards the man lounging indolently on his damn couch in his damn suite. The nerve of the bastard.

He finally notices the glass in Yunho’s hands.

His damn alcohol too!

A scowl twists the beautiful features of the tall supermodel as he leans down to snatch the drink from Yunho’s hand. He lifts the glass, holding it up into the light, seeing the amber liquid with the ice cubes clinking merrily within it.

“Made yourself at home, have you?”

“The host wasn’t very welcoming. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You were uninvited,” Changmin bites out.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Yunho smirks up at the supermodel. The man is wearing nothing more than a dressing gown. Different to the bathrobe still lying in a heap on the floor by the side, but still not much.

It is the smirk that does it, making Changmin see red as his body reacts. He takes a long final drag from his cigarette before he drops the butt into Yunho’s brandy with a smirk. He bends over with a flourish, presenting the tainted drink back to the insufferable businessman. “Your drink, sir.”

Yunho knocks the glass from Changmin’s hand, pulling the supermodel into his lap at the same time, satisfied with the shocked sound from Changmin’s mouth as he licks the younger man’s mouth.

Changmin rears back instantly at the touch, but he is trapped as Yunho chuckles in his face.

Hateful man.

“Do you want to play now, or later, my pretty baby?” Yunho gazes down at the parted dressing gown, extremely amused to see the supermodel is totally nude. He fists the younger man’s already turgid cock, smirking at the strangled sound coming from Changmin throat. “Looks like you want to play now, pretty baby.”

The endearment, if you can even call it that, pisses Changmin off even more as he struggles.

But Yunho’s hand is still on his cock, and the struggling increases the friction on it as the man’s hand pumps with his movements.

His fucking body.

Yunho’s grip on him is awkward, pulling at his sensitive skin with each struggle but with the pain comes the pleasure, and Changmin wants more.

But not like this.

He pries Yunho’s thumb, pushing back as hard as he can as the man lets him go instantly, eyes wide as Changmin finds his feet and backs away. His dressing gown is still parted, but his eyes are flashing with anger as he glares down at the surprised businessman.

Yunho massages the joint of his thumb, unable to hide his incredulity. “You almost broke my thumb.”

“Nothing you didn’t deserve, old man.”

“What the fuck are you?” Yunho asks, as the pain in his hand dissipates, eyeing the supermodel with the blazing eyes. The pain was pretty much an instant damper on the proceedings and he’s wondering if it really is even worth pursuing this spitfire. There’s burned and then there’s burned. He has a feeling Changmin is not the type who takes prisoners in the bedroom. Yunho is far more used to his bedmates being soft, willing and compliant, not violent.

And for some insane reason, it’s heating his blood like no one else ever has.


Yunho’s eyebrow goes up at the command, as the supermodel crosses his ankles as he once again leans back against the sideboard. The belt to the dressing gown has lost the battle, but there isn’t a single ounce of shame in the younger man’s eyes as he stares down at him.

“Are you deaf?” Changmin asks. “I know you’re old, but I’m not exactly quiet.”

Yunho leans back against the couch as he contemplates the young model. He’d thought the man still in his teens, a little older than Jaejoong, but even he cannot imagine Jaejoong being so bold. Twenties then? Early twenties? His eyes rake the man’s blemish free face, his scowling countenance doesn’t detract at all from his beauty. In fact, it only enhances it for those eyes are filled with fire.


He smirks, as he sinks lower into the couch. “Why don’t you come here and do it?”

Changmin doesn’t need to be asked twice, stepping forward to shrug out of the flimsy dressing gown he moves immediately to sit astride Yunho’s lap. The man is already sans jacket which makes his job a lot easier.

“Do you like this shirt?” he asks casually, dragging his fingertips down the mother of pearl buttons. The opalescent shine to the expensive buttons gives him brief pause, but Yunho’s knowing lilt to his reply in the affirmative knocks out any guilt he might feel at ruining the expensive shirt.

Buttons go flying as Yunho’s laughter reverberates around the room.

“You are a brat. How are you planning on paying for that shirt you just ruined, pretty baby?”

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to make me pay,” Changmin replies huskily as he slides off Yunho’s knees to get between the man’s legs. An expert at disrobing in seconds, the man’s pants don’t have a prayer against Changmin’s skilled hands.

“Done this before have you?” Yunho asks, a pang of something he’d rather not examine too closely filling his chest briefly.

“Many times.”

Before Yunho can react to that admission, his cock is out, appreciative hands fisting the base of his cock. He looks up, his brain and body are not quite dancing the tango together, one a couple of steps ahead of the other.

All he sees are soulful deep brown eyes that hold a hint of uncertainty behind the cloud of lust.

It is that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glimpse of uncertainty that gives Yunho pause.

Changmin looks so fucking young.

Too damn young.

“Wa—“ Yunho’s request for the man to wait is cut off as a hot mouth closes over the tip of his cock, and his protest turns into a deep moan instead as his length slides into a tight, welcoming, mouth.

Changmin has zero idea where the fuck all this boldness and brazenness is coming from. He really has no fucking clue. He is acting purely on instinct and nothing else. Yes, he may or may not have practiced on a few bananas with a gleeful Jaejoong, but that’s not the same.

Hell no.

This is better.

Yunho’s scent is driving him mad. It drove him mad already earlier when they were just side by side, but like this? He wonders if he can come from blowing the man, because it sure as hell feels like he can.

Changmin’s gazes up through his lashes as he sucks and licks around the man’s unsurprisingly substantial cock. Really, only Jung Yunho would have a cock to match his physical size. He pumps on the drawback, and is rewarded by a tang on his tongue that he has never tasted before and he pulls back slightly, eyes wide as he looks up at the older man.

Yunho just about comes right there, as he watches that gorgeous mouth stretched around his cock, lips so slick and wet and his belly tightens even more as Changmin pulls back, mouth staying open, strings of precum linking his cock to that tongue.

A tongue that teasingly, almost lovingly wraps on the underside of the head of his cock as Changmin, whose eyes never ever fucking leave his, tilts his head slightly as he licks heavily all the way to Yunho’s balls.

The industrialist finally moves, fisting the back of Changmin’s head, he tugs hard, only to be rewarded by a dangerous nip to his sensitive balls.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he bursts out, yanking harder on Changmin who finally comes up with a smirk, lips rosy and shining, slick with spit and precum. Even the tip of his nose is wet, testament to two things.

His enthusiasm.

And his innocence.

Yunho doesn’t notice though.

Their mouths finally clash, and it’s more pain for Yunho as Changmin forces him backwards, straddling his bare legs, hands on either side of his head to hold him in place that suits the supermodel.

Not all caring for the crick in his neck the man is giving him, Yunho tugs at his hands, linking their fingers and dropping their hands to the side. Their kisses grow a little less rough with no hands to keep their stability and Yunho forces the younger man to gentle. It is hard for Changmin has the higher position, but Yunho refuses to give in to the marauding tongue in his mouth as he plays catch with his tongue. He doesn’t allow Changmin any purchase on his own tongue, always darting it out of the way till the supermodel finally pulls his mouth free with a growl of dissatisfaction.

“Do you know how to kiss, old man?”

“This is not a battle, Changmin-ah.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Ah,” Yunho lets go of the younger man’s hands. “Is that what this is about? There’s no battle here, pretty baby. You already have me. Now let me have you.”

Yunho gets up easily, despite having a very lanky supermodel in his lap, dropping Changmin gently to his feet, satisfied as the man sways unsteadily on his feet, leaning heavily against him for support. He cups Changmin’s cheek, and despite the model being taller, it somehow works as their mouths meet again. This time Yunho teaches him how to kiss without turning it into a bloody battle of gnashing teeth and probing tongues.

But once again, he is surprised by the younger man as the supermodel draws back with a sneer. “Old man, I want you to fuck me, not make love to me.”

He shakes his head, half amused, quarter annoyed, and the other quarter wanting nothing more than to school this young deviant. What the hell has the fashion industry produced?

“Alright then,” Yunho finally replies, manhandling Changmin and practically throwing him face down against the back of the couch. “You want to be fucked, pretty baby?”

Changmin’s gotten the breath knocked clean out of him as his chest collides with the back of the couch. His knees are on the seat and his head is hanging slightly off the back. He feels his knees being knocked further apart, and his eyes widen at the implication. Ok, so he might have asked for it, but he’s a virgin and no lube no prep no nothing, even he knows it’s going to fucking hurt like hell.

He is about to protest, violently if he has to, body already twisting when he feels a moist fingertip dipping against his opening, slicking it up before it pushes in carefully.

The gasp of shock and the accompanying moan as his body actually allows the intrusion, makes Changmin drop his forehead against the back of the couch. His body really does have a mind of its own. If Changmin thinks no, his body goes yes. He can’t win this battle.

Yunho is far bigger than his damn finger though, that much the teenager knows, but he cannot control his hips that press back to take more. It hurts, but the pleasure outweighs the discomfort so much that it really doesn’t truly register in his mind.

And then just like that, the finger is ripped rather unceremoniously from his body, causing the model to howl his anger and twist to look behind him to demand that Yunho continue to fuck him. Who cares about lube?

Yunho slaps Changmin’s ass hard, causing the supermodel to howl again, turning around, his eyes furious and practically shooting sparks, but Yunho knows what he wants.

“Patience, brat. Remember what I said earlier? I want to taste you first.”

And with that he slips his arm under the man’s slim waist, hauling Changmin, moving to drape his hips over the armrest of the couch, the younger man now literally face down on the sofa with his ass up.

Disoriented by the wholly unexpected movement Changmin rears up to protest at the man’s rudeness. His feet are on the carpeted floor, and he can stand easily, but before he can gain his bearings, he is screaming bloody fucking murder into the sofa.

The reason for that is simple.


The older man had dropped to his knees behind the lithe supermodel, spreading his butt cheeks, he’s buried his face in the cleft of the younger man’s ass, his tongue laving at the sensitive, clenching ring of muscle. The virgin nerve endings of his little hole has never been assaulted by a man like Yunho, and Changmin is vocal as hell. He is writhing, wanting to get away for he is close to being over stimulated already. The teenager is a total mess as he tries to get away from the older man’s very talented tongue. Yunho has a very firm grip of his ass though, keeping the supermodel’s hips down against the arm of the couch, the room is echoing with the muffled screams from the young man who is practically ripping the upholstery from the couch with his teeth and clawed hands. He doesn’t give a fuck about how he looks, his body is crawling with a pulsating energy that is making him want to rip his face off.

He wants to punch someone.

Mainly Yunho.

Too tight, too coiled, too intense.

Yunho doesn’t let off for one second, his assault on the screaming supermodel is absolute. His tongue is deep in the other man’s willing body, massaging and licking at the opening, he spreads Changmin’s cheeks even further, slipping in a finger with his tongue and the man’s screams get even more piercing as he bucks wildly, coming hard from that, and the friction on his cock, with a howl that leaves Yunho’s ears ringing as he flips the younger man over’ his cock still spurting fluid, catching Yunho on the cheek as he bends the supermodel backwards over the arm rest, practically in half as he drops his head to suck on the tip of Changmin’s leaking cock, his slim body jerking almost violently as Yunho tries to ease the man from his explosive orgasm.

Changmin’s eyes can’t focus, and he’s almost certain he’d gone blind if not for the swimming lights above his head. It feels as if his eyes are filled with tears, and he wipes hastily at his eyes with a limp arm, to find the wetness is real. His body is clenching so hard, his abdominals working overtime that he wonders if he never ever has to do a single sit up ever again if sex makes his muscles contract this much already. His body is in an awkward position, but he is very flexible, and it doesn’t bother him. What is bothering him though is the man sucking on his cock, and he moves a hand down, slapping blindly at the annoyance.

His hand comes in contact with a head, and he feels rather than hears the growl.

“What is it with you and violence?” an amused voice washes down over him, hardening his nipples instantly despite his spent body.

“A little pain never hurt anyone, old man,” Changmin’s voice is a hoarse croak and he hastens to try and clear it before speaking again. “Wanna try?”

Changmin has no fucking idea what he did with the real Shim Changmin. All he wants to do is goad the man and goad the man further till he punishes him. He doesn’t care how. He already knows how fucking good he is with his mouth. He is sure the rest of him is just as good.

“You are a true piece of work.”

Changmin’s eyes flutter shut, not bothering to respond. He’s masturbated before but nothing has ever made him feel this level of languid bonelessness. He’s not sure if he can even move.

He feels the weight leave the lower half of his body as Yunho straightens from leaning against his legs. This brings a frown, as he is rather enjoying the man pressing on top of him. He can feel movement, and he turns his head only to bump his nose against a blunt object.

The teenager cracks open an eye to find himself nose to cock with a smirking businessman looming over him.

“Come on, brat. You can’t be done already.”

“Fuck you.”

Yunho hums in reply as he fists his cock, nudging the head against Changmin’s mouth. “You can fuck me, pretty baby. Now open your mouth.”

Changmin obeys, Yunho’s words echoing in his head as his mouth is filled. The taste of that turgid flesh between his lips makes him moan, relaxing his throat, he tries to take the man deeper. Somewhere along the way, instead of sucking, he starts to chew, earning himself a light slap and Yunho pulling his cock from his mouth.

“Not everyone enjoys pain, brat.”

“I do.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Yunho’s hot eyes rake across the debauched supermodel splayed out so wantonly over the couch. “Get up,” he tugs at the man’s arm. “I want to fuck you into the bed.”

Changmin groans long and low at the mental image and Yunho’s authoritative tone. The supermodel despises authority but Yunho…he’s a little afraid that if the man told him to heel, he actually might think about it.

Yunho doesn’t wait for the younger man to move, turning around, he moves to the bedroom, leaving the supermodel to drag himself off the couch and follow.

The teenager sits up slowly, eyeing the chaos of the lounge. He looks around, eyes lighting on the decanter of brandy on the counter of the bar, and he gets up, swaying unsteadily on his feet, he grabs it as well as his pack of cigarettes from the floor. He takes a deep breath, straightening his back, hearing it click and pop, before he walks into the bedroom with his shoulders back and his head held high. He knows Yunho affects him, but he will be damned if he lets the man find out.

He finds the businessman standing by the dresser, touching his things.

“What are you doing?”

Yunho looks up, gazing at man’s reflection in the mirror. “Contemplating lube options. I don’t have any. Do you?”

“The great Jung Yunho came to my suite unprepared?”

“Put a lid on it, brat,” Yunho’s voice is actually affectionate as he drinks in the tall supermodel leaning in the doorway, watching as he waves the decanter of brandy at him.

“Afraid of a little pain, old man?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I thought you said I’d be fucking you?”

Yunho’s smirk turns wolfish. “There’s fucking, and then there’s fucking. You’re welcome to ride my face, pretty baby, but the only one getting filled, is you.”

Changmin has to resist the urge to clamp his knees like a virgin bride, the shiver that wracks his body from Yunho’s words and gaze is not to be underestimated. His cock is already filling at the mere thought and he is more than a little annoyed at that. He watches as Yunho backs away from the dresser, finally picking something, his other hand beckoning the teenager with a smirk that honestly belongs in hell.

Yunho makes good on his offer, as Changmin rocks his ass over his face, the man apparently enjoying getting his hole thoroughly fucked by Yunho’s tongue as he bends over, sucking down Yunho’s cock messily while alternating between shouting encouragement and yelling profanities.

Changmin can feel Yunho stretching him more and more, he can feel two fingers with that tongue, sometimes three, but considering how well acquainted he is with the man’s cock now that it’s practically his new best friend, he knows it’s necessary. The man had chosen the bottle of olive oil that Changmin always carries around. With the amount of crap that gets put in his hair practically on a daily basis, the olive oil is a lifesaver.

Three fingers. He can feel three, now four, and the discomfort is borderline painful.

And like earlier, all four fingers are suddenly ripped from his body without a by-your-leave and Changmin slaps Yunho’s cock in annoyance.

“I’m starting to feel like a punching bag,” Yunho observes ruefully.

“What the fuck?” Changmin twists around, glaring at the smirking businessman.

“Do you want to ride me?”

“I thought you were going to fuck me into the bed?”

Yunho laughs, manhandling the supermodel once again, flipping him onto his back next to him, moving fluidly and easily, knocking his thighs apart as he pushes one leg up, and his cock in, without so much as a warning.

Changmin’s protest stutters, dying on his lips, his eyes so wide he can feel them drying in the air-conditioned room. Of course Yunho isn’t going to wait. They’ve both already came once each and the foreplay has lasted a long fucking time. Of course he isn’t going to wait, because he doesn’t fucking know that Changmin is a virgin.

The fucking burn, Changmin will be damned if his eyes water, but he cannot hide the shock and the instance of vulnerability and uncertainty he feels and Yunho sees it.

And he pauses, staring down at the beautiful wide-eyed young man, Yunho is struck once again by how painfully young Changmin looks when his guard is down, and the truth shows in his eyes. No matter the prep, his body is so tight, it’s like a vice-like clamp on his cock, and the way the walls of his passage are hugging him has to be felt to be believed.

He pushes forward a little more to be inside the younger man completely, and Changmin’s mouth drops open with a soft gasp, just as a loud voice is heard in the outer room.

“Changmin! Changminnie? What the hell happened here?”

Changmin cringes, closing his eyes, his arms pulling Yunho down to try and use the older man to hide him from view and the inferno about to be unleashed on both their heads.

“Changmin? Where are you? Changmin? Oh my fucking god!”

The married teenager stops dead in the doorway of the bedroom, staring at the entwined bodies on the bed. He can’t see Changmin’s face, but he knows that long fucking leg a certain Jung fucking Yunho has pushed back and the burst of anger that explodes from the blond shocks everyone, including his new husband.

“You disgusting man! How dare you! How could you?” Jaejoong looks around to find something to throw, but he is caught and caged by his husband. “Let me go, you wretch!” he starts to struggle, kicking at Micky who holds firm. “Look at what your friend just did to my baby!”

“Your baby?” Yunho’s brow furrows as he looks down at the man under him, and then back at the practically apoplectic blond. “He’s older than you.”

“I’m sure he didn’t say that you stupid fucking fool. I’m going to call the cops. You deserve to be hauled to jail. Changmin’s only seventeen you deplorable disgusting fucking animal.”

The shock in Yunho’s face is unmistakable and it even causes Jaejoong to pause, and Micky to groan, holding onto his new wife tighter as he whispers into the back of his neck to calm down.

The Jung CEO turns to look down, and for the first time he finally understands the wide-eyed look in Changmin’s eyes. Those bambi eyes are turned up to him now, his gaze uncertain, vulnerable and imploring, shaking his head and begging silently.

Yunho closes his eyes, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the teenager’s forehead before he moves to tug a pillow down to cover their sides from view, his tone is gruff and firm.

“Get out.”

“No. I’m not leaving without Changmin.”

“Park Jaejoong, I’m only going to say this once. I will look after Changmin. Now get out.”


“Hyung, please…” the voice is soft, muffled against Yunho’s arm, Changmin is fighting the humiliation he is feeling and his best friend is making it worse.

“Minnie? Are you ok, baby?” Jaejoong tries to take a step forward but Micky holds him fast.

“Just go. Talk later.”


“Joongie hyung…please…”

Jaejoong closes his eyes, body relaxing. They have a code. He knows Changmin is alright. But that doesn’t mean Yunho will escape scot free.

The blond’s eyes are blazing once again when they open as he stares down one of the most powerful men in Korea. “You fuck this up, Jung Yunho and I will kill you with my bare hands.”

And with that, he shrugs himself free from his husband, turning and leaving the room immediately.

“Should I be worried?” Yunho asks his best friend who is shaking his head ruefully at him.

“Yes, my friend. Very much so,” before he too turns to leave to chase his wife.

The silence in the room is room lasts a very long minute after the purposeful slamming of the unslammable front door.

Yunho drops his chin to nuzzle the teenager’s nose.


“Finish what you started, old man.”

“You really are a baby…”

Changmin clenches hard, watching in grim satisfaction as Yunho’s eyes widen. “Say that one more time and your cock might get left behind in this room.”

“So fucking bloodthirsty, aren’t you?” Yunho shakes his head, leaning down to kiss Changmin’s temple, as he starts to move. Long, slow strokes as he kisses his way down the side of the teenager’s cheek.

That vulnerability he saw earlier is totally gone, and the original Changmin is back. What he needs to figure out though, is which is the real Changmin.

“Old man.”


“What did I say about making love?”

Yunho’s laughter is loud, only silenced by a hard slap to his ribs, and a choked moan as the older man gives the teenager exactly what he wants.

AN: Um… I wrote this at work at had to go to the bathroom 5x… My colleagues think I have diarrhea. How do I tell them I have a leaking pussy? OTL I know it’s not that graphic but HoMin kill me like you wouldn’t believe. I’m a MESS.

HOLY COW!!!!!!

“Finish what you started, Ma Queen”



/crying so hard i just-

T_____T thank you, this is lovely. tho i really wanna know their first post-coital talk (i iz greedy eheh)

again thank you so much nicki! <3

after a second slow read of this chap, i just had a sudden realisation that if jaejoong didnt get married at that time; or if the first man that came across changmin during his emotional turmoil of having to loose his close family wasn't yunho, homin most likely wouldn't happen at all. am i right? DDD:

oh nicki, u write so beautiful ;;;; /heart clenches at changmin's scene in the bathtub T___T

good thing he got a new playtoy (that plays him equally) now :'3

OMG!OMG! OMG! Thank you for the update
This is perfect!!

I cant read any single lines in this fanfic bcause that damn Jung Yunho gif!!! Oh God why u did this to me??!!!

The smut is hot and jaemin friendship is super love!!! <3
Puurrrfection as expected from you.
Thanks for the update

Ohh my.....your going to finish it right??right?? And yunho gif sooooo f*%^king perfect for this series!!! Update soon pretty please!!!

OMG this is sooo good you have no idea, pretty baby >/////<
Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!

gonna rereading all of TTW again.

so this is how they started out? can't believe minnie is so bloodthirsty like that. wonder how did yunnie brake his facade tho'. thanks for the update.

i doubt he ever brake that for real!!

Oh my!!! the hottest one you've ever written!!! damn I want mooooooreeee!!!! I keep crossing my legs and rocking the chair!!so hot! so hot!!! where is my boyfriend when I needed him!!!!

what was this!!
changmin is really something!!
i want more, i can't keep myself intact!

Edited at 2014-04-14 02:33 pm (UTC)

i have waiting for this update till i always check your lj for the nth time, and it's so freaking worthed
i love when changmin become vulnerable and yunho keeps kissing or nuzzling him~

*gonna back to finish my project,before re-read the trophy wife series*

Changmin practically entrapped poor Yunho as much as he was sucked it by Yunho's aura.

That gif is awesome and this while story is just like my guilty pleasure.