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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

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[19a] Beyond the Intangible
Title: Beyond the Intangible
Series: The Trophy Wife
Pairing: HoMin
Rating: NC-17
Length: One-shot in two parts
Genre: AU, mpreg
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. Please don't kill me.

Summary: There are times when a marriage hits a rough patch, and all it takes to fix it is for the couple to take a time out from life in general and just focus on each other.

AN1: You must read Embracing the Intangible first if you haven’t already as this oneshot immediately follows that one.

AN2: My friend who lost her husband almost 9 months ago told me to never feel guilty about needing to go away for a bit. She wishes now she’d done it more, but she’s grateful that she even managed to do it in the first place since her late spouse was the kind of man who would always put others before himself and his free time was very few and far between.

“Are you sure they’re ok?”

Jaejoong shakes his head in exasperation, balancing his gurgling seven month old son on one shoulder while cradling the phone on his other shoulder, listening to his best friend ask question after question and not even letting him answer one, before another question follows. He hands out carrot sticks to the three waiting toddlers practically clinging to his legs, waiting for their morning snack, all three trained rather well by their mamas, preferring celery or carrot sticks, and truly believing that raisins were the best “sweets” ever on the face of the planet. Fruit is also a staple in both households and the three are not fussy about those either. The only thing missing for the Jung girls though is their milk.

Minah and Yoona practically live in the Park Mansion since Changmin started school, getting dropped off by their mama at least three times a week for varying amounts of time that may be as little as three hours, to as much as the entire day. The blond doesn’t mind in the slightest, for he rather likes the bustle of a houseful of children, though he did have second thoughts in the first week when the twins realised their regular supplier of milk and comfort wouldn’t be at their beck and call and took turns screaming for their milk or their mama. He is forever amazed at the resilience of children though for the following week, they were back to being the precocious playmates his son adores so much, never asking for their milk again as long as they’re with his Joongie. He’s been meaning to ask Changmin about that but he never actually got around to it.

Once the two little girls and the boy have a stick in each hand, he squats for kisses, grinning when he gets a peck on the nose by each adorable child. The kisses are a little saliva laden but he doesn’t wipe his nose till their backs are to him as he straightens and watches the trio head to the play set in the corner of the converted family area, the only place they are allowed to bring food while playing indoors.

“Yah, you bastard! Are you there? Hello? Hello?”

“Which question do you want me to answer first?” Jaejoong asks, purposefully making his voice cold and brittle, finally using his free hand to hold the phone.

There is a brief silence on the other end, and a huge sigh in his ear brings a smile to the blond’s face.

“I guess I got a little carried away…”

“A little?”

“That’s all you’re going to get from me,” the younger man warns. “Seriously though, are you ok to have them for awhile? Do they miss me?”

“Of course they miss you, don’t be daft,” Jaejoong chides gently, moving the infant from his shoulder to his chest when the boy starts whimpering. He cradles the phone once again as he positions the snuffling baby. “Hang on, I need to get Hyunnie to latch.”

While waiting, Changmin rolls over and uses his forehead to nudge the laptop in his husband’s lap.

They are in their bedroom in Tokyo. The covers are mostly on the floor somewhere, as are half the pillows, one downy pillow beyond any hope of salvation having spent the entire night in a giant puddle from the jacuzzi. The top sheet has miraculously managed to survive the determined destruction of the bed, and the lanky supermodel is currently wrapped in it like some type of toga. He’d been woken about fifteen minutes ago by his husband leaving the bed, and he had been contemplating chasing him down when the older man returns not a minute later with a laptop and the power cord, and wearing a pair of comfy looking sweatpants and a hoodie. The apartment is cooler than normal as usual, for Changmin always runs hot and the temperature is to suit him.

Apologising with a chaste kiss for waking him when they’d only really gone to bed at dawn, Yunho had explained that he needed to tie up some loose ends and then Changmin will have him for the rest of the week. The supermodel has never in his life heard of a multi-million dollar deal referred to as a loose end, and he says as much, not wanting his husband to sacrifice his deal just because he’s dropped in unannounced.

The resultant conversation had been brief, but firm, Yunho explaining that the deal is still on, and they will manage. If they can’t, then they can meet him in his office in Seoul the following Wednesday and not a day sooner.

Changmin decides not to question it any further because a whole week of no work for his husband? Maybe there really is a god.

Still waiting on Jaejoong, his husband not appearing to understand his need, probably still muddled by sleepiness or distracted by work, Changmin nudges the laptop once again, almost pushing the thing off his husband’s lap as he sits cross-legged, leaning against the headboard.

Yunho pauses mid-type, shifting the laptop to sit solely on one thigh, smiling when his wife uses his now vacant other thigh as a pillow, though he moves closer to his calf rather than settling on his thigh. He’d noticed the first nudge, but Changmin had appeared distracted and he thought his wife had only accidentally bumped into him after rolling over, but apparently not.

The supermodel rubs the top of his head against his husband’s groin, eliciting a small but heartfelt groan from the older man.

“I concede this one. You win. I’m going to embarrass myself if you want to go again right now.” Yunho’s tone is half serious. “I think I’ve discovered muscles in places I didn’t even know had them.”

Changmin tilts his chin up, now rubbing his forehead against the soft cushiony bulge, eyes solemn. “I just want to rub your smell all over me. I don’t have any illicit intentions…” he pauses before pursing his lips, “…yet.”

“If you’re snuffling in your husband’s crotch and rubbing his dick all over your face or something, I’m going to fucking hang up and the next time I call you, I’m gonna be riding Micky into the sunset you horny fuck.”

The supermodel bursts out laughing at the indignant voice in his ear, Jaejoong loud enough that even Yunho had heard him, the businessman merely chuckling and ruffling his wife’s hair affectionately before returning to his email to Jiyong setting out the progress he expects before he rings the man to finalise his instructions. His best friend’s wife can be a little extreme when it comes to his choice of words and he’s been around the cool blond often enough to not be offended in the slightest.

“I bloody hope the kids are not within earshot, Jae.”

“Oh fuck,” Jaejoong’s exclamation is slightly muted this time.

“Jae!” Changmin is torn between amusement and faint parental horror.

“Oh shut up. I’m checking on them now. God knows you swear way more than me so I’m not taking any blame if Minah starts telling people to fuck off.” Jaejoong gets up gingerly from his seat in the sun room, keeping his baby in place and almost running into Taeyeon just as he leaves the room.

“They didn’t hear anything,” she says, face bright red. “Fany just took them out to look at the spring blooms in the garden and I was just coming to tell you about it.”

Jaejoong simply nods before waving the blushing girl away, returning to his phone call.

“Did you hear that?”

“Everyone else’s voice is about a hundred decibels lower than yours, so no.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Jaejoong grumbles, returning to his favourite seat in the sunroom and settling down again. “They’re outside, but I probably traumatised Taeyeon.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t resigned already from all the trauma that she is no doubt subjected to on a daily basis.”

“I’m feeding Hyunnie, stop being an ass.”

“Fine,” Changmin smiles. “I miss you. We should have dinner or something, just us. It’s been too long.”

“Last week was too long?” Jaejoong asks, though he is now mollified. “Anyway, stop being a sentimental twit before you turn me into one. Your girls are fine. They were confused this morning and kept asking for Mama and Papa but then Joongie came in and they got distracted and I think they’ll be ok because this house is familiar to them. They’re fine, Minnie-yah. Don’t worry about it. You know I’ll call you if they aren’t.” He looks down and finds his baby sound asleep and he gets up to go to the nursery, keeping the infant cradled for he does not want to wake him. “What about you though? Are you ok? Why are you using Yunho’s phone? Where’s your phone? When are you coming back? I’m only asking because if you’re gonna be away till the weekend then I want to take the girls shopping for more clothes. Do you think they’re too young to decide on a decor for their room? I rather like that they have their own room here. It’s like you and I are still living together somehow. Ugh, look at that. You really did turn me into a sentimental twit. I miss you, you ass.”

“Now which question do you want me to answer first?” Changmin’s voice conveys his fondness for his hyung. He moves off to the side slightly, now laying properly on his husband’s thigh, leaving the phone on his ear and closing his eyes, one hand finding it’s way absentmindedly to the older man’s calf and he starts rubbing even as he continues to talk to his best friend.

Yunho continues to type, a tiny smile playing about his lips as he listens to the one-sided conversation. Changmin had confessed deep into the depths of the night as he nuzzled against his nose, that Jaejoong doesn’t know, but that he would talk to him when they return to Seoul because he couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend about it before telling Yunho and since he never did, he never spoke about it.

His wife had truly carried the burden alone and while he still feels that dull ache in his chest whenever he thinks about it, it is in the past. All he can do is to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.

They had spoken again, at length, in the wee hours of that morning, both sated and boneless yet unable to fall asleep just yet.


Yunho is lying and facing his wife, a finger tracing the curve of the younger man’s ear, feeling the shiver through the length of the model’s body at his touch, and the tired whine from his wife’s throat. He is loathe to break the mood but it is a worry that he cannot shake and he knows now’s a good a time as any because there is never going to be the right time to talk about it.

“Please take the medication. I know you’re worried about the side-effects, and if you don’t want any more children then that’s fine because it’s not just you who can do something about it - I can too. You stood next to me when you were in labour with the twins and didn’t show any sign of distress and while I know you’ve repeated yourself multiple times, saying this pain is not as bad as that one, it was still bad enough. I can call up the hospital now. I’m sure there’s a doctor here somewhere who can do it in the morning. I’ve read up about it and it doesn’t even take long.”

“Have you gone completely mad?” Changmin asks before the tears start again. He hasn’t cried again since they left the tub, but he can hear the wealth of concern in Yunho’s voice. “I don’t want you to get that stupid procedure no matter how reversible it is. It’s unnecessary, and…” he pauses as if a thought has suddenly dawned on him, and he pulls away from his husband, sitting up in their bed, ignoring his aching body screaming at him to lay back down. “Why the fuck would you even have read up about it? I thought we agreed no birth control or anything like that!?” his voice, while still filled with tears, is now angry. “What the hell, old man?”

Yunho pinches the bridge of his nose, moving into a sitting position as well and leaning against the headboard. “Look, when you came home two and a half years ago the way you did, my research was thorough. I covered every possibility and every eventuality. You were so young, perhaps too young, and the blame for that is completely mine. And while rightly or wrongly, I did think about getting it done for a few years till you were ready to have kids.”

“Were you even going to talk to me about that?” Changmin asks, aghast. While he understands his husband’s thought process back then, and while it is reasonably logical, he is still extremely unhappy about the justification - most of the feelings stemming from the residual guilt he feels about keeping things from the older man himself.


“You’ve always been honest. Don’t stop now.”

“Then, no.” Yunho sighs tilting his head back to rest it against the headboard. He supposes that like his wife, it is his choice to make in the end, but why then does it feel like it shouldn’t be?

Changmin is still as the silence in the room deepens.

“I want more kids eventually, but I don’t know if I want more kids in the near future,” he finally speaks, more to himself really for his voice is barely above a whisper. “But I do know that I hate this pain because it’s a constant reminder that my body is fucking broken and I sure as hell know that I don’t want you to undergo a completely unnecessary operation for any reason, least of all me.” His voice is still well-modulated and low despite his choice of words.

“Changmin…” Yunho leans forward but a hand to his chest stops him.

“Don’t. I need to get this out.” He takes a deep fortifying breath, folding his legs up to hug his knees despite his ass and back protesting painfully, before speaking again, his voice quiet and slow as if giving thought to each word before he says it. “I feel like a defective product. I know I’m not a thing, but I cannot help but feel that way. I know the doctors have all told me it’s not my fault, and medically and logically, I know they are right, but I just cannot stop feeling like there’s something wrong with me. Like, why me? And I keep asking myself that over and over and the hurt just keeps piling up until I am suffocating in it.” He pauses again, and is extremely grateful that his husband is silent because he isn’t done. “But in the last few hours or so, when my brain wasn’t completely addled and consumed by you, I started feeling something else.” He pauses again, reaching out to run his fingers up his husband’s forearm, voice still low and his words thoughtful. “I felt gratitude. I feel gratitude. I feel grateful that I have the girls and they are happy and healthy. I feel grateful that I at the very least know that I can have children when many couples don’t even get that much. I feel grateful that I have a caring doctor who was upset enough on my behalf that she lost her professionalism and cried for a loss that isn’t hers. I feel grateful that I am not a sociopath and—“ Changmin pauses because Yunho just choked.

Yunho squeezes his eyes shut, uncertain whether to laugh or not. In the end he does neither, but he does break his silence with an incredulous “Sociopath?”

The supermodel shrugs. “Well, apathetic then? I have feelings and while I don’t want to have feelings sometimes, I guess it’s a useful thing to have because it reminds me that I’m alive, something else I am grateful for.”

“Come here,” Yunho opens his arms to his wife who moves into them willingly.

“I’m not done yet,” Changmin warns.

“I know, I just wanted to hug you.”

“You’re getting too clingy,” the younger man observes as he clings right back. “The girls are following your example.”

“You don’t like me clingy?” Yunho checks the amusement in his voice though he is smiling when he asks the question.

Changmin gives it some thought before answering. “I like you just the way you are, except when you feel like you need to tattoo your personal stamp in the middle of my forehead or something. Then I don’t like you very much at all because it’s unnecessary. In fact, I really, really don’t like you when you get like that. I still love you, though,” he tacks on at the end, like an afterthought.

Yunho squeezes his wife, feeling the thick taste of remorse all over again. He almost lost his wife on several occasions already and it’s a little trite if he keeps apologising, yet repeating the performance again. “Ok, noted on the jealous rages.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous about,” Changmin declares quite seriously, leaning back and trying to make out his husband’s features in the semi-darkness of their bedroom. “Nothing. And those rages are not the slightest bit cute I’ll have you know. It’s actual insanity the way you fly off the handle so please take a damn step back the next time you feel like causing a scene, because it’s humiliating not just for me, but for you. You don’t need to be jealous or worried, or anything of the sort because no matter how much time I spend with anyone else, it just reminds me how lucky and grateful I am that I’m with you.”

“Changmin…” Yunho’s voice is quiet and a little perturbed. He knows he still gets a little…insane but he really is trying. However sometimes it’s like a red fog blinds his vision and he turns into the Hulk or something.

The supermodel keeps going. “I’m only going to say this once so you better savour it and remember it for the rest of our lives because I’m not exactly the boost-your-ego or prop-up-your-self-esteem type of wife. If you’re an idiot, I’m going to call you an idiot.”

“I didn’t marry you to boost my ego.”

Changmin’s eyebrow goes up. “Oh really? So marrying an international supermodel didn’t boost your ego? I know what I look like, so you’re telling me when you look at the other wives that pale in comparison except maybe Jaejoongie hyung, it doesn’t boost your ego? When people stare at us at the airport, and the paparazzi vultures make us front page news for whatever fucking reason, it doesn’t boost your ego even a teeny tiny—“

“Yah, Changminnie,” Yunho interrupts, his tone a smidgen dramatically long-suffering. “You’re much easier on the eye than Park Jaejoong, and I married you because I love you.”

“Old man,” the supermodel’s voice is amused and he reaches out to pat his husband’s cheek. “Perhaps just your eyes that are blind. I’m going to tell him you said that. And also, how long are you going to be using that line to get away with shit? Cos it’s not going to work.”

“It’s not a line, it’s the truth!”

“Yes, but uttered to suit your own purposes. Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted,” he smacks his husband’s chest lightly. “Listen closely and listen well because this is a one time thing. You are the best man I know. You’re passionate and dedicated and you always want to be the best that you can be, and even though I’m probably going to fail the stupid fucking piece of shit Economics paper you told me to take, it still makes me want to be the best that I can be, and I will still try my best no matter how much I hate it because I know you do things you hate too like being away from me and the girls because you have responsibilities and you’re not going to shirk them. You’re inspiring in general and you cause a lot of people including me to be awestruck just by being around you although I do think I’m pretty good at hiding it.” He pauses to smack his husband again who had burst out laughing towards the end. When Yunho finally falls silent again, the supermodel continues. “And despite your insanity when it comes to people’s attention on me which is completely ridiculous because it’s my goddamn job, both as a model and as your wife, and half the assholes are your business acquaintances anyway, you inspire me to be a better man. To be a better parent to our daughters, and just to be a better person in general, including as your wife. So Jung Yunho, consider this the only time I’m going to be boosting your self-esteem - why in the ever loving fuck would I even consider another person, male or female, when I have you, you stupid fool?”


“I think Yunho’s office is calling, hang on.”

“Sure,” Jaejoong is waving at the children from an upper floor window. They are still playing outside, on the new playground set Micky had commissioned a month ago. He had wanted a tree house, but Jaejoong had put his foot down at that. Just imagining his son and the Jung girls being that far off the ground already gives him palpitations. Forget about the reality. The set is a toddler one, with secure seats for the swings and both Tiffany and Taeyeon are with them, pushing the trio on the multi-coloured swings.

Changmin pulls the phone away from his hot ear, having chatted with his best friend for the better part of an hour now to look at the incoming call. Recognising the caller, he answers it.

“Jiyong-ssi, it’s Changmin. Can you give me a few seconds to end my call and I’ll pass you over?”

“How about I call back in 5? I can wait, and you can say goodbye properly.”

“That’ll work, thank you.” Changmin cuts off the call and returns to Jaejoong. However the man appears to be yelling or something, his voice a little muffled so he turns over to look up at his husband instead, head still quite comfortable on his thigh. “He’ll call back in 5.”

“Ok,” Yunho smiles, his laptop already set aside for the call was expected. He’d been rubbing his hand between his wife’s shoulder blades for the last ten minutes with his eyes closed, content to listen to the man converse with his friend. As is wont to happen, Jaejoong appears to be doing most of the talking, and his wife’s chuckles and appreciative responses clue him in to the fact that the wives are talking about their children.

“Are you there?”

“Yep, here. Who were you shouting at?”

“The gardener. The idiot turned on the sprinklers while the kids were out in the garden.”

“Jae…those sprinklers are on a timer. He can’t possibly have foreseen that the kids would be out in the garden now can he?”

“Well, he has eyes doesn’t he?” Jaejoong grouches but feeling a little bad now for yelling at the poor man. He’ll apologise later. “Fine, ok, I forgot and I guess he probably did too. They’re fine though. Joongie thought it was a game and started running around bellowing like some warlord, and I’m pretty sure Minah thought it was raining but couldn’t figure it out because the sun is shining and the skies are blue.”

Changmin chuckles, feeling warm. “I really doubt that. She’s only fifteen months.”

“You tell me. She’s staring up at the sky right now. She’s even walking along with her head tilted back practically 90 degrees so that she can keep staring at the sky. Yoona just started imitating her.”

“Why don’t you explain to them what happened? It’ll solve the confusion. You can show them how the sprinklers work, and then when it rains which I’m sure it will, you can point out the difference.”

“Is that what you would do?” Jaejoong’s voice is unnaturally quiet.

“Yes,” Changmin smiles, a prick in his eyes. “You’re a good mama, hyung. We’re just different and it’s ok. I learn from you too.”

Jaejoong is fanning his eyes, and he can hear the kids calling for him downstairs. “I know you have to go so I’ll say goodbye first. I love you, kiddo. Take all the time you need with that great big hunk you call a husband but don’t forget to call me everyday even if it’s just to complain about how he wants to wrap you up in bedsheets forever so no one can see you. I swear to god I have never seen a man lose it so quickly.”

“Checked the mirror lately?” comes the rueful response.

The pregnant male sniffs. “Well, mine can be a bit of an ass but he’s getting better. Yunho though, he should know you by now.”

“He does.”

“Are you sure?”

“I told him.”

“Ah…” Jaejoong leaves it at that, knowing what his friend is referring to.

The beep of an incoming call interrupts again.

“Ok, that’s my cue. I love you too and I’ll call you later. Or you can call me on my phone. I just have to find it.”

“Gotcha. Kiss Yunho for me ON THE CHEEK.” Jaejoong laughs and hangs up before Changmin can respond.

Grinning, the supermodel passes over the phone to his husband.

The call is a good half hour in, and Changmin is half listening, half drowsing. Yunho’s instructions are exact, and he provides responses for all scenarios and alternatives that may come up depending on how the discussions go while he’s away. It sounds like some really complicated piece of music with about twenty different instruments in a fifty-piece orchestra, but he has faith that his husband will prevail in the end.

Yunho keeps talking about being away, and Changmin has no idea what he means. He’s quite fine with spending the rest of the week in bed as he finally rolls off his husband’s thigh, stretching languidly, still feeling relatively boneless. His belly rumbles just then and he rubs at it, remembering he didn’t actually get to eat dinner. Yet, despite that reminder and his growling belly, what he actually wants to eat…

He glances at his husband who is expressionless, listening intently, his attention wholly on what Jiyong must be saying.

…is definitely not food.

Gathering whatever last reserves of energy he has, Changmin rolls himself out of bed, stumbling slightly as he stands, still wrapped up in the bedsheet. It’s wound in an awkward manner and it would be impossible for him to walk in, so he fixes it, so intent on his attempt at the best of boudoir fashion, that he doesn’t notice his husband’s attention is now on him.

Finally satisfied that he is relatively decent and the makeshift toga isn’t going to drop at a sneeze, he makes his way across the minefield of pillows and discarded clothes in search of some food.

Yuri knows the apartment is occupied when she enters. Her employer usually keeps really awful hours, already out well before she arrives, but the gimbap on the kitchen counter, the smell telling her it was there overnight, and the lack of a note for her by the sink, tells her there is someone is still home. Yunho-san never fails to leave a note with instructions, and if his wife is around, Changmin-san never fails to do so either. She does the general cleaning of the entire apartment, and she knows what she needs to do every day. The note is simply to inform her if there is, or isn’t anything extra to do. She likes that they are so polite and courteous that way because it makes her life easier. She doesn’t have to guess if they need anything else done, even if there are unfolded clothes in the laundry and a stack of books on the coffee table. She cleans those items, and then returns them to where she finds them. She will only fold the clothes if she is asked to, for the wife apparently enjoys doing that menial task himself and would prefer she does not do it.

So Yuri is happy really. The apartment is much larger than most in Tokyo, and it gives her pride that she has cleaned it so well for five years now.

She has already finished cleaning the communal and kitchen areas, as well as the guest bathroom and powder room, and is deciding whether to knock on the bedroom door when an exclamation startles her.


“Oh…” she bows immediately. Heat suffusing her cheeks at the tousled brunette wearing nothing but a beige bedsheet with rather questionable stains on them… “I’m really sorry for intruding,” she says, a little mortified, head still bent, eyes determinedly glued to the floor.

Changmin winces, wondering how to salvage the situation. Their cleaner spooks easily which is rather bad considering his penchant for walking around naked most of the time or wearing not much. However, he likes her standard of cleaning and well, he does try not to offend her sensibilities when he remembers she is coming which is either once or twice a week, depending on how long they are staying. This isn’t as bad as it’s been but he is pretty sure he looks just as he feels.

Thoroughly fucked.

Thinking quickly, he decides on the only option.

“Yuri-san,” his voice is gentle. “We’ll be going out soon and I know it’s easier for you to clean without us being underfoot. Why don’t you have an early lunch and come back in three hours?”

“Oh, no, it’s ok. It’s no problem. You’re not in the way at all,” she is a little horrified.

Trying another tact, he goes again. “I would prefer if you came back after we’ve left. I’ll leave a note for you by the kitchen. You may be here awhile though as there’s a lot of laundry to do. Is that ok?”

She nods, backing away, eyes still resolutely down on the floor. She knows the layout of the apartment so well she can probably navigate blindfolded and the skill comes in handy that day. “Yes, Changmin-san. It’s ok. I will be back in three hours. Thank you very much and please take care.”

Changmin doesn’t move till the poor woman has shut the door, shaking his head sheepishly and ruffling his hair as he goes in search of the leftovers from last night.

Yunho is still on the phone when Changmin re-enters with a plate of the remaining gimbap, neatly sliced this time, and a giant pile of carrot sticks. Munching noisily on about five sticks at a time, he grabs his laptop from the dresser and sits next to his husband.

The plate of gimbap is for Yunho rather than himself, so famished that he had devoured two of the three remaining rolls while standing in front of the fridge door. He was so ravenous that he didn’t even manage to wait long enough to get to the counter. Glad he had asked their cleaning lady to leave, he contemplates on what to do for the next few days. While staying in their apartment would be great, he is feeling just a little stifled and wonders if a change of air and scenery might do him some good.

It’s an incredibly tall ask though, for Yunho to not just drop everything, but to potentially leave East Asia altogether.

His long call with Jaejoong had reassured him that the children are more than fine. Not to mention the fact that his best friend had admitted that he had run off as well for a week when everything got a little too overwhelming. The Jungs were in Japan at the time, so his friend hadn’t told him about it, but it was either go away or go mad. So Micky took him to Bali for a week to rest. He’d felt guilty at first for he felt like he was basically abandoning his nine month old son who had just stopped feeding, but the time away with just his husband had allowed them to reconnect both physically and emotionally without an entire household watching their every move, waiting for the Park wife to lose his shit for the umpteenth time in the day. It was not a healthy place to be and even less so for their young son for Jaejoong was already seven months pregnant at the time with Hyunnie.

His friend had given him an idea then, and while he does feel guilty about leaving his girls with the Parks, he is self-aware enough to know he does need a timeout, and he needs time to deal with his current reality. The more he pushes it to the periphery, the more his environment will suffer for Changmin is not ok. He has taken steps to ensure that he will eventually be ok, but it’s not quite enough just yet.

Yunho had been munching quietly on pieces of gimbap his wife had placed in front of him while speaking to Jiyong and the team of lawyers he brought with him. The morning schedule had been pushed back and the other companies are demanding answers, but Yunho is not the type to rush through something. Apart from the matter of his wife, he has always considered his options carefully and nothing moves until he is satisfied.

The call finally ends, and Yunho is confident everything should proceed as planned. He trusts Jiyong and he knows the man will call him the second anything even smells like it might go awry.

“Is everything ok?” Changmin asks, a carrot stick hanging off the corner of his mouth like an unlit cigarette.

Plucking the vegetable from his wife’s mouth the way he sometimes did when they used to share a cigarette when the supermodel was still a teenager, he pops it into his mouth, crunching the carrot down and swallowing it before he replies.

“It’s all fine. Do you want the lengthy explanation or are you ok with just that?”

Changmin lifts his knees again, perching his cheek on one, he gazes at his husband. “In a bit. As long as it’s under control, we can talk about it later.”

“Do you want the last piece?”

“I’ve already had two rolls,” Changmin admits, waving his husband to eat the last of the gimbap from last night. “Are you still hungry? If you are, we can probably get something from somewhere close cos I’m not really up to making anything right now.”

Yunho yawns just then, making his wife laugh and nudge him with an elbow. “You’re really getting old. You used to be able to stay up all night and go to work the next day without having slept.”

“I had to keep up with a jet-setting teenager who could have any man he wanted so I was staying up no matter what,” Yunho teases, suppressing another yawn and nudging his wife back.

“But he only wanted you, ok? Enough, old man.” Changmin shakes his head but his smile is fond. He places his now-closed laptop on the table next to him and slides down the bed to lay his head on the pillow. His husband yawns again while watching him and the younger man chuckles. “I think you need a nap.”

“I think I need several naps,” Yunho admits, moving the empty plate to the side table. He reaches for the scruff of his top and pulls it over his head, dropping it carelessly off the side of the bed and lying down. He stacks his hands over his flat abdomen and closes his eyes, not noticing his wife’s steady gaze over his bare torso.

“Hmmm…” Changmin eyes the length of his husband’s body slowly. “I’ll wake you in an hour.”

“K, baby.” Yunho murmurs, already halfway to dreamland.

“Don’t call me, baby,” comes the automatic response but the CEO is already more asleep than awake and misses it.

Changmin doesn’t last longer than half an hour.

He did try, getting out of bed to tidy the scattering of pillows and clothes on the floor, sopping up whatever puddles that are left, not bothering to empty the tub because the noise will definitely wake Yunho. Oddly not craving for a shower as he normally is, he simply pulls on a pair of linen pyjama bottoms, and wears the hoodie that his husband discarded before heading out of the bedroom with the pile of dirty clothes and pillows and sorts them out on the counter in the laundry room for Yuri-san to deal with later. He could have left them all as they were on the floor of course, but he’s not that type of man.

Next, he calls the Japanese GP that looks after them when they are there, explaining the situation to her and asking if she can have the medication delivered to the apartment today. Apparently she can do one better, for she is on her way out to an early lunch and will be passing by on her way to meet her own husband and can be there within the next ten minutes. She just needs to call Dr. Eri to confirm which drug and dosage she would have prescribed and he will have it within fifteen minutes at the most.

Grateful that she is too polite to ask for details other than the necessary, nor does she prolong the conversation, he hangs up with a sigh of relief. He can feel a deep churning of his belly about having to discuss this with someone else, and he knows he’s likely going to be that way for awhile. The fewer people who know the better. His hand inexplicably goes to touch his belly, index finger tracing the scar that the twins gave him. It’s barely a discernible ridge, and even more invisible to the eye but it is so much a part of him that even if it disappears utterly and completely, he will still know exactly where it is. And he knows his husband, somehow built much more sentimental than Changmin, would likely be able to draw it out from memory considering the amount of time he stares at and touches it.

Leaning against the wall by the door after sending instructions to the concierge and security downstairs, he tilts his head back against the shoe closet to wait for Dr. Kaori. He finds himself once again thinking of their future. He is afraid of going through this again, but does not want to be afraid of something that may never happen. He’s been having twinges of pain every few minutes again, and the reminder hurts more than it should and he just wants it to go away, at least for now. He can deal with the consequences.

At least, he believes he can because Yunho is by his side, this time every step of the way.

Dr. Kaori arrives exactly as promised. Her eyes are sorrowful but all she says is for him to take one pill every day at the same time if he can help it, and to stop if he experiences a rash or diarrhoea.

Changmin leaves the bag of medication on the kitchen counter, noting the time and swallowing one bitter pill dry as he heads back to the bedroom, already pulling off the hoodie along the way.

Thirty minutes.

It’s only been thirty minutes.

Wearing just his jammies, he stretches out alongside his prone husband who hasn’t moved an inch in the last half hour. Lying on his side, he pulls up the covers over both of them to the waist, and watches the gentle rise and fall of the older man’s chest, his husband deep asleep.

Resting his head in the palm of his hand hand, he gazes at the strong features of his husband, softened in his sleep, before allowing his gaze to travel down the man’s torso. Lifting his other hand, he traces at the lines of his body, circling one nipple till it pebbles from his touch, before he slides his finger lower still till his wandering hand is caught by a larger hand, pressing it against a hard abdomen.

“Changmin-ah…” Yunho’s voice is hoarse with sleep. “What are you doing?”

“You look very young when you’re asleep.”

The CEO doesn’t open his eyes, but his mouth stretches into a beatific smile that makes him look even younger, and his mouth purses into an adorable pout as he shifts to stretch out the kinks in his back, still holding is wife’s hand. “That’s a good thing right?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know. I rather like being married to a lecherous old wolf,” the lithe model murmurs, leaning against his husband’s body, pressing his erection against the man’s side even as he frees his captive hand and slides it under the waistband of the sweatpants. “What else can you teach me with your almost sixteen years on me?”

Yunho groans lightly, feeling his wife’s hand coaxing him awake. It doesn’t have far to go though, already more awake than he himself actually is. “I think you’re doing just fine on your own, pup.”

Changmin gives him a light squeeze before pulling his hand out to push at the sweatpants that are in the way. His husband though, doesn’t cooperate at all, eyes still closed, a faint smile playing about his lips.

“Are you planning on just lying there?”

The older man cracks open an eye and lifts his head to look at the bedside clock. “I still have over twenty minutes of sleep owed to me I believe.”

“Is that how you want to play it?”

Yunho grins again before closing his eyes and folding his hands primly on his chest. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

Changmin’s eyes narrow, sitting up and staring the length of his husband’s body. He can see the clear evidence of the older man’s arousal because sweatpants are the worst at hiding it. His nipples are hidden from view for the moment but the supermodel isn’t interested in that. Oh no…he’s going to show his husband exactly what he’s learned.

He leans over his husband, lips twitching at the boyish smile on the much older man’s face. This causes smile wrinkles to crinkle around his closed eyes and Changmin leans forward to kiss the corner of each eye gently before speaking, his quiet words ghosting across Yunho’s skin. “Sensei…don’t…move…” he says before climbing over the man, skimming his clothed erection over his husband’s belly.

Yunho shivers at the words, very briefly wondering if he really should hand over control to his wife on a silver platter like this. However, he decides to see what his wife does, asking instead, “Should I keep my eyes open or shut?”

Changmin grins, a little amused that Yunho is even asking permission for that. “Do whatever you want. That’s the only body part you’re allowed to control.”

The older man’s eyes fly open immediately, finding his wife gazing at him from the foot of the bed. Even as he watches, Changmin leans forward to hook the waistband of his sweatpants, smirking slightly as he pulls them down. His heavy cock is trapped and dragged down along with the waistband, and Yunho braces himself for the inevitable.

The supermodel watches as the trail of hair from his husband’s belly button gets more and more exposed even as he pulls down, purposefully keeping the older man’s cock snagged and continuing to pull the sweatpants slowly off his hips, pelvic bones visible now, that V straight to his own version of heaven and hell. There is only so far a body can go though, and when he cannot pull any further, he leans forward and puts his mouth over the clothed head of his husband’s cock and gives him his teeth.

Yunho’s body jerks, his eyes closed, it doesn’t hurt, but he is sensitive to his wife’s mouth on his body and he reacts to that. Feeling the bites through the thick material, he cants his hips upwards, seeking more, but his movement is something disallowed, and his wife moves away, tugging his sweatpants down roughly, and he cannot help the groan pulled from him as his full cock slaps back against his belly.


“I learned from the best.”

Yunho opens his eyes, narrowing at his wife’s flushed cheeks and dropping to the very prominent tent in his cotton pyjamas. There is already a very obvious stain at the head pressing against the thin material, and he raises his gaze back up to the heated, vaguely challenging eyes of the younger man.

Breaking the rules again, he tilts his head back to look at the clock quickly.

“You have exactly eighteen minutes and forty seconds before your time runs out.”

“And then what?” Changmin’s eyes are slowly perusing his husband’s completely naked form, hand moving to circle the precum stained front of his pants, scratching his nails against the swollen head of his slowly weeping cock.

Yunho’s answering smile runs a strong shiver through the tall supermodel who doesn’t bother to hide it, his skin blooming.

“You’ll find out.”

Heat raises even more than it already has, the topless man’s skin growing more flushed at the dark twist of his husband’s word.

“Is that a promise?”

“I’d consider it a warning if I were you.”

AN1: I am sorry I had to end there cos…it got too much for my brain to handle and I ran out of word space to finish this in 10k words and my underwear is completely and utterly ruined and I need to go find my husband now…………….

AN2: Also…a lot of the monologues are primarily because of RL Changmin…I just thought about it when he mentioned being enlisted made him more grateful and you can see the difference :) He’s still our Changminnie but he has changed. And of course his whole YOU’RE U-KNOW YUNHO… Uh…ok baby bambi calm down :D Gotta say...this was mainly Changmin muse chatting my ear off about Yunho OTL and then at the end Yunho took over AND I CANNOT FIGHT YUNHO. I can probably wrangle and manage Changmin somehow but if it's Yunho muse, just fucking forget it. Forget it. Forget it. I am in hell right now omfg.........

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