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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...


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Drabble: Love Is A Battlefield
YJ01
beeswaxing
Title: Drabble: Love Is A Battlefield
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Length: Drabble
Genre: Non-AU
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story.

AN: That title sounds more like a HoMin fic doesn’t it? OTL Why do I even need to title drabbles? And this is an actual drabble ok. About as actual as I can get anyway :P

photo-7






“Did you see? Did you see? Did you read about it?” Jaejoong asks breathlessly as he hangs off the arm of the man who’d just walked through the door. He doesn’t wait for an answer though as he steers the man towards the kitchen and settles him onto a bar stool.

Instead of sitting next to him, Jaejoong hops up onto the counter, bare feet dangling as he grabs a spoon and the bowl of warm soup and wriggles along the counter till he is seated directly opposite the man. For someone known to be clumsy, he does this expertly, as if he’s done it a million times before, not even looking down to scoop from the rice bowl alongside his thigh and dipping the filled spoon in the soup to soften the rice.

His feet find purchase along the upper thighs of the man on the bar stool between his legs, and his feet automatically curl around the man’s slim waist as he leans forward to feed him.

It is a rather awkward position to be sure, because while Jaejoong might be shorter, he is still lanky enough for it to look rather strange for the stool is high enough that he is practically kissing his own knees. Wearing nothing but a loose pair of boxers and an old tank top, his position makes for a rather interesting suppertime view for the occupant of the chair who is trying to look away.

Trying being the operative word of course.

Failing might be a better word.

Blinking hard and forcing himself to look up as a third spoonful of food is pushed into his mouth without having swallowed the second, he runs his hands up Jaejoong’s milky white legs and squeezes his knees in protest.

The apology is immediate, Jaejoong’s gorgeous eyes widening in surprise, leaning forward, he kisses the cupid bow mouth, licking at an escaped trail of soup from the corner of the man’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby. Are you ok? You’re always hungry when you’re back home from filming. I would pack you food, but no one would think you made it yourself and with Changmin still in Japan, you can’t even pretend he cooked it. Is the soup nice?”

Yunho nods, unable to vocalise his appreciation as a fourth mouthful of food is carefully fed to him under the watchful gaze of the doe eyed idol. Jaejoong’s face is clear, scrubbed clean of makeup, and always beautiful to him. The only light in the room as far as he’s concerned.

The only light he needs.

And he cannot vocalise how hungry he is, because the food in his mouth sustains him, but it is this man with his child-like awe and exuberance for anything and everything that feeds his soul.

He lives vicariously through the lead singer, as Jaejoong’s happiness is impossible to contain.

“They gave us a red ocean! It was red! It wasn’t Christmas, it was better than Christmas! Did you see? Did you see?” Jaejoong, now content that Yunho is ok, once again picks up where he left off. This time, a spoonful of food goes into his own mouth rather than Yunho’s, much to the leader’s chagrin.

Jaejoong catches sight of his expression and his laughter rebounds along the expansive kitchen as he hurriedly feeds another spoonful to the pouting leader.

He waves the spoon at Yunho, breaking into a grin. “Next spoonful won’t come till you tell me if you saw it.”

“I saw it at the airport. I even saw some fan photos. You were glowing, Jaejoongie.”

At the mention of the word airport, Jaejoong’s smile slides right off his face and his grip of the spoon tightens as he feeds Yunho again.

“I can’t fucking believe they made all of you perform in the typhoon. You could’ve slipped and hurt yourself! And Changmin too, god knows he seems to be clumsier than usual. And what about BigEast? Standing out there like drowned cats waving their T sticks. They’d stand there all day and all night for the two of you. It wasn’t just rain, it was a fucking typhoon! People DIED.”

“Jaejoongie…”

The name seems simple enough. The affection within it clear as always when Yunho calls his lover, but the warning note within it might as well have had speakers attached to it for you’d have to be utterly deaf not to notice it.

Jaejoong scowls defiantly, and the two men stare at each other for an immeasurable length.

Both stubborn, one feeling fully justified in his anger while the other equally justified and absolutely certain that nothing good is going to come out of beating this dead horse for the millionth time.

They will never agree.

It just depends on how long it takes for them to agree to disagree.

Some days, it takes seconds.

Other days, it takes weeks.

The longest stubborn interlude needed intervention from all three of their dongsaengs before they decided to agree to disagree.

And Jaejoong definitely “walked funny” the following day.

Today, it takes a few minutes.

Jaejoong gives in, shoulders drooping as he drops the near empty bowl of soup along with the spoon with a loud clatter onto the kitchen counter.

Leaning forward to wrap his arms around Yunho’s neck, he allows the younger man to tug him off his perch, slipping easily to straddle the man’s thighs, wrapping his legs around his waist.

His boxers bunch up awkwardly, and he is more exposed than covered, but this is Yunho.

The leader of TVXQ slips a hand gently around Jaejoong’s jaw, thumbing his bottom lip, staring at the lush, moist mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Jaejoong starts, but a long thumb silences the rest of his apology as it presses his lips closed.

Yunho shakes his head, smiling ruefully at the still sparking eyes of this man he has loved for so long he cannot even recall a time when he hadn’t. “We both know you don’t mean it.”

“Maybe I do,” there is a challenging lilt in the singer’s voice.

“Maybe pigs will fly,” Yunho murmurs with a smile as he presses a soft kiss to the corner of Jaejoong’s pouty mouth. “Come on then, show me a miracle or two,” he invites with a husky whisper.

Jaejoong doesn’t need a second invitation as his hands slip up to fist Yunho’s thick hair, so deliciously long, tugging hard and smirking at the low groan he gets in reply before he presses their mouths together.

Love is not always about following the other and agreeing to every single decision.

But love is definitely about acceptance that both partners are individuals and will not always see eye to eye.

The trick is to learn to pick your battles because not every battle is worth fighting and sometimes, you might actually lose more than you gain.

Both these two men know this all too well, and both now prefer to battle in the bedroom.

Jaejoong in particular, wears his “battle scars” proudly, if anyone’s been looking lately…










AN: Feels weird writing after so long. I needed to get it out though cos Jaejoong was very excited to tell Yunho about Gangnam. He was babbling in my head a whole lot more than I wrote tbh. He was talking non-stop from the door to the kitchen and then some, but y’all only got a tiny bit. I miss them.


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