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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

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[20] Expensive
Title: Expensive
Series: The Trophy Wife
Pairing: HoMin
Rating: NC-17
Length: One-shot
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story. Please don't kill me.

Summary: 17 year old Shim Changmin is still trying to figure out the ins and outs of his “relationship” with his brand new 33 year old fiancé, and when you throw in hurried wedding planning and an auction that should never have happened, he is at the mercy of his own impulsiveness, causing him to do something rather inexplicable.

AN1: Ok I’m super sorry I know I owe you guys part 19b but I was out with my husband and some others and we were talking about christmas charity things and someone suggested this as an option to spice up secret santa and I guess I tweaked it a helluva lot hah.

The supermodel is idly flicking through the society pages of a Japanese newspaper when a full page ad catches his eye. The glitz and glamour of the coloured ad is striking and beckons a reader to examine it closer, though even as he is drawn in himself, Changmin doesn’t really get the need for the advert since the event is by invitation only. Everyone who’s anyone should have definitely heard of the legendary Autumn Charity Ball with the who’s who of Japanese society rubbing shoulders with the creme de la creme of their Chinese and Korean counterparts. A huge yearly affair to raise money for a range of charities in all three countries, it is also an opportunity to catch-up and to boast about the achievements of the past year. Many socialites and their parents also take the opportunity to use the event as a potential match-making service, the concentration of eligible bachelors whose net worth is probably more than the GDP of some countries is a pool of potential prey that are much too juicy to pass up.

A fair few marriages, legitimate and illegitimate children, and all manner of dalliances have found their origin in that particular evening for apart from the cost of a seat at the dinner table, the raffles and auctions that are run are legendary, the most anticipated one being the Eligible Bachelor auction.

Each year, five men are offered up for auction to the highest bidder where the winner will get dinner at a venue of their choice, plus an additional three hours of their companion’s time once dinner is over. The implication is clear and some do see it as an extremely expensive hook-up with someone they may not have any cause to meet even though they may move around in the same circles.

The choice of men each year is varied, from CEOs and trust fund babies to celebrities and politicians. The only requirement is that the man to have never been wed. The organisers run their own thorough background checks of course to ensure the safety of all parties involved, and in the fifteen year history of the event, there has only been a small blight in the year they decided to have a bachelorette auction instead. A couple of singers had come to some grief with their winning bidders but the matter was hushed up, as they are wont to do when money can buy most things, including silence.

It is this distastefulness that Changmin wants no part of but then he is a mere supermodel and he knows his agency is one of several that supplies models to the event as dinner companions and mingling parties. No plus ones are allowed with married couples the only exception, so there is a healthy need for beautiful bodies at the event. Being what would normally be considered underaged by most Western nations, Changmin has always managed to avoid being picked. However with Jaejoong’s marriage and a rather unfortunate bout of food poisoning hitting about half the agency, it is all hands on deck and he is one of those lambs being sent in for the slaughter the following night.

His thoughts are already pretty grey by the time his eyes reach the special section of the advertisement where the five eligible bachelors are named, so his mood turns black instantly, utter disbelief showing clearly on his face when he reads the unbelievable.


His hand clenches, the newspaper page crumpling in his hand. The low murmur in the small corner cafe is hushed at the loud scraping of his chair as the supermodel stands quickly, leaving the premises abruptly without finishing his drink nor the half-eaten choux pastry that is his favourite.

Fuming and working himself up into a real lather, Changmin practically marches the ten minute walk to his fiancé’s office, passers-by all getting out of his way the second they catch sight of his handsome face now twisted in anger and humiliation. He may not have an ostentatious engagement ring on his finger but he damn well has his pride. Yunho may technically be a bachelor, but Changmin did not just spend the whole fucking morning picking out goddamn wedding stationery, discussing colour schemes, and deciding on wedding entourage outfits with the stupid wedding planner Yunho had landed on his head with the excuse that “you would know more about these things than I would”, only to be made a complete fool of like this. The damn woman even flew to Japan because they have little over three months to finalise everything and both Yunho and Changmin had obligations to attend to outside the stupid fucking Autumn Charity Ball.

They were meant to have lunch together and Changmin is about an hour too early, but he really can’t give a damn right now. Cursing the man to perdition, he is muttering angrily to himself even as he enters the sumptuous lobby of the high rise building that houses his husband’s Tokyo office.

Swiping through the security gates to the bank of elevators, the supermodel taps his foot impatiently as he waits for a carriage to arrive, making displeased sounds as he surveys the eight closed lift doors and wondering why the fuck it’s taking so long.

A woman is on the phone, her voice low as she speaks to her lunch buddy who works on the 41st floor.

“You’ve got incoming and he looks pretty pissed.”

“He’s not supposed to be here for another hour,” her friend replies, her voice displaying her panic. She hasn’t made a very good impression on her boss’ male companion in the handful of times she’s met him, and she’s pretty sure it’s not going to improve any time soon.

“Why don’t you try telling him that,” the woman on the ground floor replies, seeing the door close on the supermodel. “He should be with you in a minute.”

Yunho’s secretary swallows an expletive, thanks her friend and hangs up quickly.

She even briefly considers hiding under her table, but she clearly took too long mulling her options for she is startled from her thoughts by a very cold voice.

“Is he alone?”

Chancing a glance up, she takes in the supermodel’s flushed cheeks, eyes hard as agate and his uncharacteristic sweaty brow.

“Y-yes,” she replies, watching as the teenager spins around and stalks into her boss’ office without waiting for her to announce him.

Who is she kidding? If Jung Yunho is alone, he never ever waits, as if expecting the man to be nothing but welcoming whether his presence is planned or not.

She winces as the door slams, sighing as she checks the CEO’s calendar. Thankfully, he had already blocked off two hours for lunch with the teenager who had just swept in an hour early so she figures no re-arranging will be necessary.

Yunho looks up just in time to see the door slamming and what looks to be a very annoyed teenager heading his way. Glancing back down at the document he is in the middle of initialling, pen poised, he continues as if no one has just barged in rather rudely.

Changmin for the most part always behaves beautifully.

In public.

Not that they step out very much in public anyway. In the two months that led up to the younger man finally coming to his senses, he had reluctantly acquiesced to Changmin’s request not to be seen too much in public in the off chance they decide not to go ahead with their relationship, not to mention the fact that the teenager seems to think his value seems to lie in the illusion that he is still single.

Single and fucking available.

Yunho made damn sure the brat has a reminder every single night that he sure as hell isn’t single and he most definitely isn’t the slightest bit available.

Woe to anyone who even looks at the supermodel overlong. Yunho knows it cannot be helped at photoshoots and he isn’t present for those moments anyway, but when they are travelling, he sometimes purposefully lets the teenager walk ahead just so he can observe the heads turning to look at the coolly aloof, handsome young man, stalking through the airport in his designer clothes as if it’s his own private runway.

The CEO knows the coldness is a mask to discourage conversation but the supermodel wears it a tad too well, inviting interest where he prefers to disappear.

Their public life was muted at best. He recalls a few articles in various tabloids every now and again when they travelled together, but they were nothing more than speculation at best, mostly rehashing the scene at the Park wedding three months ago.

So in reality, there hasn’t been much opportunity for Changmin to act up even if he was so inclined, the closest he gets is stepping just a tad out of reach when Yunho tries to take his hand or his arm when he isn’t supposed to.

In private, it’s a whole other story, and Yunho tolerates and even encourages his insolence at times because he wants the supermodel to know that he can always be his prickly self with him should he choose. The barbs the teen sends his way make him grin at the audacity, merely feeding his urge to tame the boy and their battles for dominance in the bedroom are always a pleasurable endeavour. The teenager is a fast learner and if only he knew how much power he truly wielded, he wouldn’t be so contrary.

However, the line between private and public is very much blurred in his office.

Yunho is about to sign his name on the last page of the document when a crumpled ball of paper lands in front of him.

“You have two seconds to explain to me why you’re taking part in this fucking matchmaking piece of shit side show after I’ve agreed to marry you, old man. Do I look like a fool to you that you can play me like this?”

The businessman drops his pen and leans back in his leather chair and stares across at the angry supermodel.


Angry and hurt.

There is no mistaking the pain in the teenager’s large eyes. He is hiding it very well behind the anger which appears to be stronger.

“This is about the charity auction,” Yunho as always, manages to read the teen right in some things.

“You’re damn right it’s about the charity auction. What the fuck are you playing at?”

Yunho sighs, pushing away from his desk. Alright, he’ll give the brat this one. That was definitely worth a tantrum. God knows if the situation were reversed, Yunho would be bringing hell to the organisers right about now.

Opening his arms, he says simply. “Come here.”

Changmin wants to hold onto his anger, but he wants to be comforted too. He wants to be told, even though theirs will be a marriage more akin to a business transaction than premised on any type of romantic feelings, that he still matters and his thoughts and feelings matter. Yunho has always been open with him, encouraging even when Changmin speaks his mind whether to criticise or to praise, the former of course a much more regular occurrence. And Yunho had even gone as far as to agree not to publicise their relationship until Changmin was ready to deal with the public intrusion, though the reality is that the teenager was afraid the mogul would come to his senses and call it off and leave him to be humiliated in front of everyone.

The trust is there, growing tentatively, sometimes even against his will.

They still haven’t made any official announcements, much to Jaejoong’s confusion and Micky’s amusement, but in just one month, Changmin has already seen the difference in his husband-to-be.

When the man had formerly pretty much dogged his every step, even following him for overseas shoots, the day Changmin had told him that he liked Jung better in relation to his surname, had changed something. In the last couple of weeks, he had been able to fly to an overnight photoshoot on Jeju Island and to two-day shoots in Hong Kong and Bali without the CEO insisting on accompanying him. They had even flown to Tokyo separately due to their different commitments.

He is a little torn between wanting Yunho underfoot as he’d gotten used to it, or feeling like freedom is a step closer with the older man loosening the leash he has on him just a little. There is also the horrifying realisation that he had come to depend on the man’s presence next to him in bed to the extent that his overseas shoots had been an exercise of patience by all those around him for he had been unable to sleep soundly, waking every two hours and not understanding why his body is so restless, resulting in some truly cantankerous behaviour.

His heart knows why, but they’re not on talking terms at the moment because what it wants to say is wholly irrational to the young supermodel.

Dropping his things unceremoniously on the corner of the large desk, the supermodel comes round the table, mouth pursed, eyes still flashing with his ire, but having expected a fight and fully prepared for one, he is thrown slightly off balance by the businessman’s mellow reaction at accepting his fault in this. He is able to read his fiancé well enough to see the apology in the man’s dark eyes.

Stepping in the space in front of Yunho, he ignores the invitation, resting his ass instead on the edge of the desk and staring down at the older man as he crosses his arms.

Yunho resists the urge to smile at the tiny show of defiancé. The brat isn’t even eighteen yet and here he is defying a simple request when others would have jumped to do his bidding over much more. He has decided he rather likes this streak because he always knows when the supermodel is displeased with him, something rather refreshing when surrounded by yes men.

“Well? I’m waiting,” the teenager’s tone still has an edge to it, infuriatingly rude to anyone else who might be within hearing range.

“So am I,” Yunho glances down meaningfully at his lap, though he drops his elbows and steeples his long fingers as he gazes at his wife-to-be.

“Whatever you can say with me in your lap you can damn well say with me standing right here.”

It’s no big loss letting the teen win this tiny point and he toes his chair back just a little bit further. “I forgot,” he admits.

“Come again?”

The older man’s feminine cupid bow mouth tugs wide into a smirk that is decidedly carnal, his thoughts zooming back to the previous night where the teen had most definitely come again.

And again.

And then again just because.

Admitting that he missed the brat is not really something Yunho would ever contemplate nor would it be something he would have considered to be even possible at the time, but his body most definitely missed its bed mate in the two nights they were apart.

Recognising the smirk for what it is, Changmin flushes even more, the angry flush from earlier blooming a deeper red but the reasons are wholly unrelated.

Feeling the twitch in his pants, he crosses his long legs to try and contain the problem, hooking his ankles, his tone dripping with acid he doesn’t quite feel. “What the fuck is wrong with your head?”

Still smirking, Yunho leans forward and reaches out to run a hand up a jean clad leg. “I don’t know, brat. Why don’t you tell me? You seem to be the sole occupant these days.”

Changmin blinks.

The moment is lost though, Yunho seemingly not realising what he’s just said as he continues, reaching the waistband of the model’s jeans and hooking his fingers and tugging. “I forgot I offered to replace Micky when the date of his wedding was set. I hadn’t met you then, remember?”

The teenager is not quite listening to the explanation, still a little floored by Yunho’s throwaway admission that he thinks of him a lot. Thanks to his inattention, he finds himself sitting astride the older man’s lap, his body naturally cooperating, mindlessly used to being manhandled in general.

His nipples pucker against his will as Yunho’s warm hands slide under his shirt, spanning his waist, his cock perking up way more considerably this time.

Changmin 0 Body 1

All the fucking time.

Trying to hold onto his annoyance, he braces both hands on the man’s broad shoulders and squeezes warningly even as his hips jerk forward against his will when the mogul cups his ass roughly, his growing hardness meeting stone, Yunho’s dress pants hiding nothing.

“Do you really think you deserve me after forgetting something this important?” he manages to mask his surprise at Yunho’s intense arousal, even as he moves his hips imperceptibly closer to rub against it again.

That isn’t important Changmin-ah,” Yunho smirk is a devastating combination of masculine pride and confidence with a twist of the need to possess the gorgeous seventeen year old completely. “What’s important is that I will never forget that you are now mine.”

The teenager makes a scoffing sound but it is barely even half hearted, his teenaged libido much stronger than any feelings of annoyance, bending his head to answer the unspoken invitation in the heat of the eyes of the man he will soon call husband, crushing their mouths together roughly, rocking his hips the way he wanted to the second their clothed cocks touched. Moving his hands from Yunho’s shoulders, he cups the man’s jaw on either side, dominating the kiss, feeling the heat spiralling from his centre and outwards till his skin feels aflame.

And all from a kiss.

Their tongues caressing, sweeping possessively into each other’s mouths, fighting for dominance, not truly realising they are mimicking each other for Changmin is a star pupil. He kisses Yunho the way Yunho kisses him, giving as good as he gets and then some. Completely untouched by any other, every move he makes is pretty much guaranteed to inflame the older man who cannot get enough of the handsome beauty who is completely attuned to him in body.

Yunho’s fingers work deftly, and the teen’s shirt is spread, his fingers pinching at sensitive nipples that earn him a painful warning nip on his bottom lip that stirs his blood even more.

Ripping their mouths apart for a moment, chest heaving, eyes wild, Changmin’s voice is husky with a warning that he would never even consider uttering had his senses not been consumed so completely by lust.

“And you are fucking mine.”


Yunho hadn’t been too pleased when he found out that Changmin was going to be one of the ushers slash fillers at the event, and had considered calling the agency to get him out of it but the teenager wouldn’t have the bar of it because hypocritical much? They had been fighting about it for the better part of Saturday, and the teenager can barely walk straight after several bouts of it.

Unwilling to let it die, yet knowing the battle is almost lost, Yunho tries one last time as he loops his bow tie around his neck, his shirt still unbuttoned, exposing a thin singlet. He still has a vest and a jacket to put on for the penguin show that evening. It may be autumn but staring at Changmin heats him like nothing else can so he will leave the layers till absolutely necessary.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, he blows the smoke out casually before speaking. “If this is about money, why haven’t you touched the joint account I opened last month?” He smokes irregularly, same as Changmin, but the teen had palmed a pack off a photographer at his last shoot and they’ve shared a few that day.

“For the millionth fucking time, I don’t want your money,” the teen practically snarls, eyes flashing dangerously as he glares at the CEO’s reflection in the mirror of his dresser. “What the fuck would I do with half a billion won when you don’t let me pay for a damn thing anyway? And besides, wasn’t it, what did you call it? A shining star on my resume that I’ve been working since I was fourteen? I want to work and this better not be an example of how you’re going to be when we’re fucking married because you promised me freedom but you’re trying to tie me down and I don’t care for it.”

Sitting in boxer shorts as he rubs lotion onto his legs, he is already severely pissed off when he realised his future husband had spent most of the afternoon making damn fucking sure that Changmin remembers he belongs to someone.

His body is peppered by hickeys, and not the innocent type either. He’s counted thirteen, and at least five are along his inner thighs.

Yunho pulls the cigarette clamped between his lips, eyes like banked flames as he looms behind the teenager, staring at the impossible, insolent, incorrigible, insatiable teenager. They had gone three rounds that afternoon because fighting always seems to be a trigger, making the teen hornier than usual and Yunho admits that he sometimes pushes the teenager’s buttons just for the hell of it. He would push more but being almost twice his age, he’s not quite sure if he can manage a fourth time so soon, and the boy will never ever let him live it down for the rest of their lives if he couldn’t get it up.

His cock twitches at the thought, as if daring him to try it out and he is tempted.

Really tempted.

His annoyance dulled slightly by his thoughts, he places his hands on the slim shoulders of the supermodel, the cigarette dangling quite precariously between his fingers, the ash in danger of dropping onto the smooth skin of the teenager, surprised that Changmin doesn’t pull away. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and he can see the residual irritation lingering in the large bambi eyes of his teenager.

“I could tie you to the bed.”

“I fucking dare you,” comes the icy reply.

“What is it with teenagers?” Yunho finally gives up, knowing full well his threat was completely empty and amused that the teen knows it. “You seem to think you’re invincible.”

“That’s not it,” Changmin breaks eye contact and rubs the balance lotion over his marked torso. “I just have nothing to lose,” he says quietly, more to himself, standing up and turning, dropping a knee onto the stool he was sitting on, stealing the cigarette and taking a long, deep drag to finish it before twisting around to stub it out in the ashtray on the dresser. The smoke curls from his mouth slowly and he starts to button up Yunho’s shirt so he can do up his bow, his brown furrowed. The burn is welcome.

Yunho stares at the boy’s face, knowing that it’s a comment the teen doesn’t want examined and he lets it go because truth be told, he doesn’t want to look into it either.

Tilting his chin back to give Changmin better access as the boy moves up his body, he doesn’t notice that the buttons don’t continue being buttoned until he is yanked forward and a warm mouth opens against his throat.

A warm chuckle fills their bedroom, Yunho at ease. His teenager will give him hell no matter the consequence.

“We’re going to be late.”

“Don’t fucking care.”


“Have you ever seen so much money in one space?”

Changmin looks around after Sooyoung’s comment. The doll-like model is older than him by a couple of years but he is sunbae to her in terms of work for she was a late starter. Shrugging, he recognises a handful from the Park wedding a few months ago but no more. He’s not interested in the moneyed part of the large banquet/ballroom, more starstruck by the celebrities but he hides it well.

He and Yunho had arrived separately for Changmin had to find his fellow models and arriving in Yunho’s limo would cause questions that he is wholly uninterested in answering since their relationship isn’t exactly public. He had agreed to disclose it during Fashion Week later that month when he would be buying rather than walking, Yunho insisting on the full complements of a “bridal trousseau” so to speak and it would be very hard to explain away why one of the richest men in Asia is purchasing everything the supermodel next to him points at.

“Jae’s wedding.”

“Oh yeah I forgot about that lucky bitch,” she sighs, shaking out her hair and reaching out for a champagne flute from a passing waiter. “How was the wedding anyway? The agency kept flying me back and forth I completely missed it.”

Since Changmin’s memories of Jaejoong’s wedding are predominantly wrapped up in the man sitting near the front of the hall at his one o’clock, he chokes on nothing before managing a reply.


“I bet,” she sighs again, scanning the field. The night had been largely uninteresting apart from a brief disagreement between her young friend and a couple of other models. She hasn’t seen them in awhile though which is good. She could have told them that Changmin wasn’t interested in “their women” but assholes are deaf to reason.

Other than that, the auctions were the only exciting bits, with items up for grabs like a season’s worth of courtside seats to a Lakers game, a personal performance by a popular singer for an hour at any venue for any event, and a full day’s consultation with the tailor for the British royals and three custom made full outfits.

Plane tickets are not included of course, but then with the people in attendance, it would be laughable to even suggest it.

Changmin had to shake his head when two impeccably dressed men ended up fighting each other for the female singer’s performance, the price going up to fifteen million yen.

Yunho had told him earlier that there is a cap for every auction. The number varies each year depending on the attendance, and the value of the item up for auction.

Changmin had been mildly horrified at that, asking instantly how much Yunho would be worth. The man had laughed and shrugged, saying the highest it got to the previous year was seventeen million and that it’s not really about pride but for laughs. The record was twenty-two million for a Hollywood actor several years ago. The teen had been sceptical, but yet he had inexplicably checked his bank account to see what he could afford if no one bid on Yunho.

It wasn’t much.

“I want to bid on number 5,” a rather loud and grating voice assaults his ears.

“Good choice! He looks absolutely delicious.”

Changmin clenches his fist and wills himself to stay facing forward.

“What about number four? He’s a CEO too and really handsome in a soft kind of way.”

Another voice joins in, scoffing. “Between four and five, I’d take five any day. Last I heard, four was made CEO by his dear ol’ daddy. I don’t think he’d know his way around a bed let alone a body. Number five on the other hand…” she trails off suggestively and her friends join in, tittering loudly for they are more than a little tipsy as the night draws slowly to its highlight.

“Do they always call them by their numbers?” Sooyoung leans in, whispering into his ear.

Changmin can barely hear her, blood roaring in his ears.

“Yes,” someone else answers. “It is to keep the illusion that they are objects. Rather dehumanising if you ask me, and I’m extremely surprised that one of them is up there.”

“Oh? Who?”

Changmin turns to meet Zhou Mi’s concerned eyes. Shaking his head imperceptibly to let his friend know not to talk about it.

“Well, have you seen the lineup? Which of them doesn’t seem to fit?”

“Five,” Sooyoung answers immediately. “Definitely five. He keeps looking over this way and I always get goosebumps when I accidentally meet his eyes. If I didn’t swing the other way I would definitely be climbing him like a motherfucking tree. The others are like tame snakes or something compared to his dragon.”

“D-dragon?” Changmin manages to blurt out incredulously.

“Have you had a good look at him? He looks like he could have the other four guys for lunch.”

The three models turn, as do pretty much the entire table of females just ahead of them to their left as Jung Yunho gets up with his associate and heads out towards one of the many balconies. Seeing the other man offering his fiancé a cigarette, Changmin is sent back a fair few hours to the memory of them passing a cigarette back and forth after their first “fight”.

“Oh god, he smokes.”

“I don’t think he’s a serious smoker,” someone answers rather loftily. “There was a very faint smell of smoke when I spoke with him earlier, nothing overpowering like some others I’d rather not name.”

“When did you talk to him?”

“Tell tell!”

“Did he encourage you to bid?”

“Are you going to bid?”

“Of course I’m going to bid. He didn’t ask me to bid in so many words, but he did say enjoy your night.”

More tittering as Changmin rolls his eyes.

“Good grief,” he mutters, moving away from the table of stupid.

His friends follow him, one confused, the other equally confused but for a different reason.

Settling against a wall, Changmin crosses his arms and glares at the stage.

“So…” Zhou Mi starts, staring at the young supermodel. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to stand here. We’ve done our duty, conversing during dinner and mingling during everything else. We were let off ten minutes ago and I have half a mind to call a cab and go home.” Sooyoung tugs at his arm and he turns to look at the slightly shorter girl for she is wearing heels. “Yes, noona?”

“Keep me company? We’re the only ones left and since this is my first Autumn Charity, I want to watch the auction.”

“I can keep you company,” Zhou Mi adds, lips quirking when Sooyoung pouts mightily at him.

“It’s not the same. You’re in a long term relationship. You don’t understand what it’s like to be single. I wanna get my jollies from watching those harpies fight over number five.”

Zhou Mi’s eyes flicker once again to Changmin’s face whose expression remains closed off. None of them notice Jung Yunho walking back into the ballroom, eyes searching, nor do they notice the softening of his expression when he finally finds who he is looking for.

“Fine, I’ll stay, but you owe me one.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, have you been saving up for our final auction? An average of eleven million over the last four auctions is really too bad for such lovely specimens,” the auctioneer chides the room, earning some laughter. “Let’s see if you have really been saving up or if your pockets were depleted early on over that Paris Fashion Week bonanza huh?”

“Oei! Get on with it! I’ve got money to burn.”

“Oh my, that was a guy…” Sooyoung murmurs, craning her neck trying to see who it is. “Do you think he swings that way too?”

Changmin pinches the bridge of his nose the way Yunho sometimes does, his body flattening further against the wall, wishing he was anywhere but there. The auctions had had a surprising twist, with each winner expected to declare what they expect from their win.

Two declared a kiss.

One declared a proper date after the dinner.

And another said a contract for a proposed development in Hong Kong which earned the most applause and laughter.

Half the girls from that table had gone past them earlier discussing that very topic, and their comments were extremely rated. For Changmin to tense up from hearing words that he says fairly regularly to the man they are discussing, is really something to behold. He is torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay, just to see what the declaration will be and how much Yunho will go for.

By the time his fiancé finally takes the stage, the room is a mess.

Copious amounts of alcohol loosens the tongue and deepens the wallet it seems.

The music doesn’t help either, accompanying the man’s already overwhelming presence is Rihanna’s S&M which nearly sends Changmin into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles. He can see the older man shaking his head bemusedly at the song choice, but he takes it in stride, smirking at the audience as he pulls out a pair of sunnies and puts it on his nose, causing titters in response, snapping his fingers to the beat while waiting for the emcee to start the auction.

The businessman is not in his element, but he shines anyway. Only Jung Yunho can pull off wearing shades indoors at a dinner function and make it look normal.

The bidding starts at a reasonable one million.

And it escalates to ten in basically twice the number of seconds.

“Well, fuck,” gentlemanly Zhou Mi lets out an uncharacteristic expletive. “I don’t have that much money.”

“You were going to bid?” Sooyoung asks incredulously.

“Not for me,” Zhou Mi darts another look at the youngest model’s face and this time the look is caught by Sooyoung.

“Was he looking at you when he kept looking our way?” Sooyoung asks a little incredulously, directing her question at their youngest, whose countenance is so grim he could well be at a funeral.

Changmin’s fingers are digging into his palms, the bidding now a five way war between two girls from the same table, the guy from earlier, another guy near the front, and some other older female at the opposite side of the room.

The insistent beat of the Rihanna song seems to have roused the room as they egg the bidders on as the number keeps going up much too quickly.

After it hits fifteen, the auctioneer had to call a pause, reminding everyone that this is just for one dinner and three extra hours.

His reminder does slow the group of five somewhat, one of the girls the first casualty, dropping out when it hit seventeen.

The lady drops out when it hits nineteen million, three hundred and seventy-five thousand six hundred and eighty-five.

The increments are getting smaller and more ridiculous. The annoying girl who had boasted about talking to Yunho now trying to get her friends to chip in to help her.

“Twenty million,” the guy calls out.

“Twenty million one hundred,” another male voice jumps in quickly.

Changmin’s had enough of this farce, pushing away from the wall, his cold supermodel mask very firmly in place.

“Twenty-five million.”

“Sold! The cap is met.”

The room erupts in noise.

“Holy mother of fuck…” Sooyoung is gaping at her friend. “Have you gone absolutely insane?”

“Yes,” Changmin replies simply as he shakes his friend’s hand off him gently to walk forward, all eyes in the room now on him, but he only has eyes for one man.

One man staring in his direction with a knowing smirk twisting his beautiful mouth and Changmin wants nothing more than to feel those lips on his. He is heartsick and angry that he just blew nearly all his savings, but he just can’t have another guy taking Yunho out. The girl he can probably manage for Yunho gets annoyed pretty damn fast with vapid females, but males on the other hand, are an entity he’d rather keep Yunho away from, especially ones with long candlelit dinners and three hour extras.

They could want his attention for business purposes of course, but the supermodel doesn’t even bother entertaining that thought. There are much cheaper ways to get a business introduction.

“How can you be smiling?” she shakes Zhou Mi as they both stare at the retreating back of their friend. “Does he even have that kind of money?”

Zhou Mi shrugs. “More. Much more.”

“Geeez…must be good being Shim Changmin and Park Jaejoong huh? International supermodels that everyone practically throws money at it seems.”

Changmin is walking past the table of females when the one who had been bidding catches his arm, her eyes like daggers.

“Aren’t you just one of the fillers?”

“Hey…don’t do that. That’s Shim Changmin, that supermodel who turned Europe upside down last year. Don’t you recognise him.”

“I don’t look at the help,” the girl scoffs, but she does let go of the teenager’s arm but she keeps glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you are. You must be crazy to think Jung-sama would want to be bought by you.”

Changmin smiles, and it even reaches his eyes. “You might want to wait for the declaration then.”

Turning away from her, he continues walking, ignoring all the eyes on him, more than used to it, his own eyes narrowing on the Jung magnate who looks to be far more amused than he has any right to be.

Taking the stage, the auctioneer is torn between incredulity and concern. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” Changmin replies easily, stepping alongside Yunho who automatically puts his hand in the curve of the small of his back, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the audience as the noise level increases just a tad. The model leans back into that hand, a shoulder against the older man, his eyes direct and unrelenting as he continues to stare at the auctioneer. “Is that a problem?”

As if remembering his position, the man shakes his head as if to clear it, staring up and down at the statuesque pair before turning to face the waiting audience.

“It’s a record, folks! Twenty-five million yen for a delightful evening with one of the most eligible bachelors in Asia. How do you feel being the new record for this event?” the auctioneer hands over a microphone passed to him by one of the scantily dressed females masquerading as his assistant.

“Expensive.” Yunho enunciates the word clearly, still wearing a delicious smirk.

“Uh…yes, indeed. You are very expensive. How much is that in Korean won?”

“A quarter of a billion,” he replies, handing back the microphone, signalling an end to the start of a distasteful conversation.

Turning his attention to the supermodel after the reaction of the crowd dies down at the seemingly exorbitant amount, he holds the mic out to the supermodel who takes it, and asks, “Is that a lot of money?”

“Sir,” Changmin’s voice is without inflection, noting Yunho’s cooling demeanour at the continued talk of currencies. It is a sore point between the countries and he would rather not get into it. “It is rather crass to be talking about money like this at a charity event don’t you think? Why don’t you move on to the declaration so I can start my delightful evening?” placing emphasis on the last two words.


“Why not?”

“But…it’s for dinner and then three hours. Isn’t it a bit too late for dinner and your three hours?” The emcee actually looks at his watch. “It’s almost eleven!”

The supermodel shrugs as he brings the microphone up to his mouth, careful not to touch his lips to the likely germ-infested head. “What can I say? I’m a growing boy and I need to eat to keep my energy up.” Turning towards Yunho, he cocks his eyebrow. “What do you think? Can I have my dinner tonight?”

Yunho’s entire countenance is as if he is finding something exceedingly amusing. He knows the supermodel hadn’t noticed him keeping an eye on him. He saw the way some of the males and females stared at the lithe young man, jealousy clear in their eyes. He saw the girl who had confronted the teen on his way to him, and the older and bulkier male models from other agencies who couldn’t understand why their targeted cougars preferred Changmin’s company over their own, the teenager conversing easily about a myriad of topics with the older women who doted on him. Two had gone as far as to confront the boy a couple of hours ago, and Yunho had made a decidedly irritated phone call to the head of the agency and the unfortunate models had been sent home.

Leaning forward without taking the mic, his eyes solely on Changmin, he can see the spark of irritation in his teenager’s eyes. The boy is in a strange industry for someone who doesn’t like attention and he knows the supermodel just wants it over and done with so they can go home.

“You bought me. You can have whatever you want.”

The smirk doesn’t need to be seen.

It can be heard loud and fucking clear.

Along with a seductive promise of more.

The white noise in the ballroom increases exponentially.

“Well…” the emcee slash auctioneer swallows visibly as he eyes the tall couple. There is a strange undercurrent between them. Jung Yunho is a very tactile person so he wasn’t really surprised at his touches because the man had even touched him, but he doesn’t know the stunning boy with the pouting mouth who had just bought the Asian dragon for a cool twenty-five million. Some trust fund baby? His eyes linger on the teenager’s full mouth.

“Watch your eyes,” Yunho warns under his breath, noting the emcee’s pointed attention.

“Are we going to get on with the declaration or are you going to make me wait for my dinner?” Changmin interrupts smoothly as the man flushes and looks away.

The CEO immediately turns, leaning into the supermodel, whispering something into his ear that results in the teenager’s lips curling into a smirk at whatever it is that Yunho has just said to him.

It’s yet another trigger for the teenager.


“What is your declaration? Can you beat a contract for a Hong Kong development?”

Changmin’s smile meets his eyes once again, surprising Sooyoung but not really Zhou Mi.

“Are my eyes deceiving me? Is he actually smiling?”

“He has a lot to smile about,” Zhou Mi shrugs, suddenly missing his own boyfriend.

Turning towards Yunho, he holds out his hand. Yunho takes it and presses a quick kiss to his palm before dropping his arm low around the supermodel’s waist, his long fingered hand curling casually on his hip.

Changmin rolls his eyes, raising the mic to his mouth, ignoring the very loud conversations going on around him. “Marriage. I want a marriage out of this since he’s being a tad forward. What would my mother say?” he asks rhetorically, before handing over the mic to the shellshocked emcee.

Yunho’s laughter can be heard by the people nearest to the stage. Already tired of being apart from the teenager, the mogul simply takes the supermodel’s hand and pulls him away and they make a quick escape as the crowd tries to process what the young model said.

“Well, that one definitely won the night. I don’t know anyone who could top that.”

They are in one of the side rooms where the charity payments are being processed. Yunho is standing behind Changmin, nuzzling the teen’s ear, nibbling at it, with the boy trying to bat the older man away rather ineffectually.

Still chuckling, Yunho steps back and around the taller male, pulling out his wallet.

“What are you doing?” Changmin asks, a hand to Yunho’s arm.


“I’m supposed to be paying for this.”

“Do you have your wallet?”

“Uh…” Changmin’s eyes widen. He’d completely forgotten about that rather salient fact.

Yunho presses a kiss to the paling model’s mouth. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it an engagement present.”

The supermodel huffs annoyedly, though it is directed more at himself than the man next to him. Moving to stand a little to the side behind Yunho, he watches the concierge staring back and forth between them.

He heard the entire exchange and he doesn’t quite know what to make of it. He’s been doing this for a few years now, and he’s met couples who hit it off right away, but never quite like these two. For Jung Yunho to pay for an auction of himself though? At the maximum price no less?

The concierge takes the proffered black card with a gulp, unable to help himself as he adds, his voice noticeably shaky. “This is highly irregular, Sir…”

“Nothing about this one is regular,” Yunho replies a little sardonically, referring to the teenager, the corner of his mouth curled up at the supermodel who now has his hand held lightly around Yunho’s bicep and staring at the concierge as if he was a pesky cockroach. “His card is attached to mine anyway so what does it matter if you swipe my card or his?”

Changmin turns sharply, staring at the businessman’s face, knowing the words to be a lie but Yunho has never yet lied to him and he cannot see a lie. Confused his eyebrow raised in inquiry, all he gets its a smirk from the man and a blasé shrug as if saying why are you surprised?

The concierge finally remembers himself and his role, nodding in acknowledgment and swipes the card, making the transaction quickly. Handing the card back, it is the tall young model that takes the black Amex and pockets it without a word, his eyes saying more than enough to cause the man to flinch back.

Chuckling deeply, the CEO of Jung Corporation pats his winning bid’s hand as they turn to leave.

“So how does it feel to be bought?”

“You could have had me for free.”

“And let some bitch have you? I don’t think so.”

“The last bid was a guy.”

“Guys can be bitches too, or haven’t you met Jae?”


“Nope,” the teen pops his lips over the word as they step out into the cool night air, his nipples tightening from the sudden drop in temperature. Raising his hand to call to their driver, he doesn’t turn to look at Yunho before continuing, changing the subject. “I just don’t like being made to look the fool. Remember that, Jung Yunho.”

Eyeing the stark profile of the teen, Yunho shakes his head. “I doubt anyone can make you look the fool, Changmin-ah.”

“Aren’t all teenagers fools of some type?” Changmin asks, turning his heated eyes towards the older man before leaning forward and pressing their mouths together, winding his arms around the man’s neck and deepening the kiss quickly, parting his mouth willingly for Yunho’s marauding tongue.

Watching the couple from a distance, Sooyoung is arm in arm with Zhou Mi.

“How long?”

“Since Jae’s wedding.”

“Just over three months then? How have they kept it quiet?”

Zhou Mi shrugs as he passes his cigarette to the tall girl. “Who knows. You know what he’s like. He doesn’t talk about it.”

Sooyoung shakes her head as the tycoon presses the supermodel against the side of the car that has just arrived, not letting up on the assault to his mouth. Their kisses are deep, and extremely carnal, she can actually see Yunho tugging Changmin’s shirt from his waistband and slipping his hand underneath and upward.

“He’s almost twice his age.”

“And worth billions. In United States dollars.”

“I guess that’s the currency that matters the most.”


They would have finished in the car if Yunho hadn’t received an urgent phone call about a matter somewhere in the middle of the ocean on a rig. Forced to truncate their rather pleasurable reacquaintance after three hours of being kept apart at the same event, Yunho finds himself reluctantly seated in his home office, his voice cold as he snaps out instructions into the phone. His jacket discarded somewhere, probably left in the car, he can’t quite remember, he massages his brow annoyedly, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he listens to the excuses for the explosion.

It was an accident waiting to happen. His own inspectors already informed him just last week that the subcontractors had used sub-standard material for most of the piping work, hiding the fact behind the proper pipes used where they can be visibly seen. The difference in material must have resulted in a significant amount of pocketed money and to say that Yunho is pissed would be an understatement. He hires people to handle this type of thing, but when a leaked pipe causes an explosion that injures half a dozen workers that are his responsibility is when it becomes his problem.

A team has already been dispatched to investigate, contain, and settle. He has no patience for long court battles, and he knows damn well who is going to pay for this. Another team has already been dispatched to the contractors and sub-contractors and heads will roll before the sun comes up in Japan.

He is distracted from his thoughts by a hand to his shoulder.

Looking up, he sees a mussed teenager wearing a half-buttoned white shirt, and smelling of an intoxicating mix of scotch and smoke.

The alcohol must have softened the young man for he manoeuvres himself astride Yunho’s lap, his mouth soft and petulant.

“Call me with a report in six hours and not a minute later.”

The CEO tosses his phone onto his desk, hearing it clatter across the smooth wood, its momentum taking it completely off the table to the carpeted floor.

His attention is fully on the intriguing teenager in his lap playing with the ends of his unraveled bow tie, eyes cast down towards his chest. The smell of alcohol is a bit more pungent this close, and he places two fingers under Changmin’s chin and tilts his face up to meet his eyes.

“How much?”

The teen smiles, bringing up three fingers.

“Three fingers of scotch?”

Changmin leans forward, breath hot against his ear, feeling the nip against his lobe just as he realises the teen is wearing nothing underneath the white shirt when his bare erection presses against him, escaping from the shirt, before the supermodel confesses his sins.

“Three fingers…”

There is a short pause.

“…in me right now, old man.”

Yunho’s breath catches for a split second before his hands move, lifting the loose shirt to curve around the bare ass, his fingers find a very slicked up entrance.

A finger slips in easily, Changmin moaning beautifully against his ear, lifting himself up slightly, teeth scraping flesh.

“Two more…”

Yunho feeds two more fingers from two different hands, pulling the teen’s ass cheeks apart, feeling the boy’s thighs shaking with the effort of holding himself.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against the line of the teenager’s neck, the shirt slipping to the side to expose a marked shoulder, his own cock tightly confined still. “Sit.”

“The only place I’m sitting is on your cock.”

“You’re so fucking lewd.”

Changmin groans at the words because Yunho almost never swears, and when he does, his mind goes blank.

His hands scramble blindly between them, finding Yunho’s belt buckle and undoing it, tugging at the leather, his breath stuttering badly when Yunho slips a fourth finger in.


He was still a little loose from their afternoon and early evening disagreements, his hands wandering between his thighs as he nursed a whisky tumbler or three while waiting for the CEO to finish his business.

Three drinks and a whole cigarette later and Yunho is still nowhere in sight, the teen decides to take matters into his own hands.

Quite literally.

Aroused yet mellowed by the alcohol, he preps himself thoroughly, not at all caring if the man walks in to find his fiancé with his ass in the air, hand soaked in lube and three fingers deep in his own ass.

He is still a teenager and teenagers have their needs.

Changmin had briefly considered getting off on his own because that’ll serve the old man right, but his body had other ideas.

His brain to be exact, as it replayed their earlier fights in full colour.

By the second memory, the teenager is stumbling out the door, nearly empty packet of cigarettes and zippo in hand, the other struggling to button up his shirt from the dinner because hey he might be interrupting a video call and he doubts Yunho would like his minions getting an eyeful of his bare ass.


Changmin might be a little intoxicated, but he has done this so many times he could probably do it with his hands tied behind his back, not realising he has uttered that thought out loud, amusing his very own billionaire between his legs with his words.

He lets out a satisfied sound when he gets Yunho’s button undone and lowers the zip. His movements are tightly controlled for Yunho is still two knuckles deep in his ass with four fucking fingers. The pain is sketching around the edges, but his tolerance is very high, uttering a guttural moan when his hand finally frees the hot flesh from the older man’s boxers.

“You’re made of stone,” the boy observes, cupping Yunho’s arousal with both hands and pumping a downward stroke, making the man jerk. Lifting his eyes to meet the banked fire in the older man’s gaze, his sweet, slightly sleepy smile is completely at odds with the words tumbling from his lush mouth. “You wanna fuck me don’t you?”

“And what if I do?” His fingers are locked in the boy’s slick ass, the lithe teenager’s body naturally regaining its tightness that he can barely move.

“You gotta wait your turn,” the teen’s eyes take on a gleam as he leans forward, mouth once again pressed to Yunho’s ear. “Cos I wanna fuck you first, old man.”

He leans away and reaches back, finding Yunho’s wrists and he tugs, groaning in pain when the man’s fingers leave his body roughly.

Yunho surprises him though, the man’s larger hand capturing his arms behind him, hand tight around both his wrists as the other hand pumps Changmin’s wet cock, leaking precum for a fair while now.

The teenager’s chin drops, eyes glazing further, a deep moan pulled from him as the older man pumps him.

“You’re so good at being bad.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I would have you, good or bad.”

“Too much talking, not enough fucking.”

Yunho’s tug of the teen’s wrists is rough and he feels the burn in his shoulders but it is nothing compared to the burn in his ass, feeling the blunt head of Yunho’s cock pressing against his puckered entrance, the angle of his body making entry harder than normal despite his over-preparedness.


And this time, Changmin complies, feeling the head secure within his body, his eyes wide, pupils blown, biting hard down on his bottom lip as he drops his hips, sinking all the way down, now legless as his thighs protest their treatment. His breathing is laboured, a strangled moan deep in his throat, his body burning on two ends and yet both are inconsequential as their bodies start to move.

Finally letting go of the teen’s captive arms, Yunho’s hands hold firm on the tops of the boy’s thighs, as Changmin’s rocks in his lap, hard and fast the way he likes it.

The teen is stunning, his white shirt slipping off one shoulder, a bruising red mark from earlier on his skin like a beacon telling the world that he is someone’s.

Yunho doesn’t resist, leaning forward to latch against a patch of pristine skin, his bite harder than it would be, the teenager crying out in pain, yet instead of pushing the older man away, he wraps his hands around back of the man’s head and neck, holding him closer as he rides it out, head thrown back to give the man more room against his throat, mouth parted with stilted gasps coming through. Yunho laves and licks at the marks he leaves, but his mouth doesn’t stray far, and the teen will find more than thirteen marks come morning.

Surprisingly not mouthy as usual, the only sounds coming from the teenager’s lips are a litany of oh gods.

Kissing and licking, he moves up, and Changmin’s mouth finds his with a fury, allowing the man immediate entry into his mouth, suckling roughly, taking Yunho’s tongue the way his body is taking his cock. There is no finesse in the kiss, the teen’s bouncing causes teeth to clack, and he nearly cries with pleasure when Yunho’s hand grazes against his neglected cock.

Wrapping his hand around the boy’s weeping cock, it takes five strokes before Changmin’s body gives up, the teen coming with a low wail, spraying his cum all over the front of his fiancé’s dinner vest.

Gathering the teenager in his arms, Yunho stands, his body still lodged firmly in the supermodel’s, splaying Changmin out over his work desk. Leaning down to press a warm kiss against the dazed teen’s mouth, his husky voice is a dirty promise.

“My turn.”

The supermodel’s overly sensitive body is tortured further as Yunho doesn’t wait for him to recover, slamming hard into him that it knocks several things off his desk when the teen’s body jerks with each deep thrust.

“S-slow down.” Changmin drops his hand, fondling his balls, stroking a heavy finger up his spent yet still hard cock, the appendage bouncing with the older man’s punishing thrusts.

Yunho surprisingly complies, slowing his movements, savouring the drag of the tight walls against his hot flesh, eyes keen on the younger man’s face.

The teenager feels this even more acutely, the slow drag and push, the pull against his resistant passage that wants to hold Yunho in, and the push to make room for the man’s large cock. His eyes meet his fiancé’s and the mogul wordlessly captures an ankle, hooking it on his shoulder, before running his blunt fingernails harshly down the length of the supermodel’s seemingly endless leg from his ankle to his hip, making the teen’s body clench in reaction, the tingles sending sparks shooting through him and his cock never really got to rest.

Changmin can feel every single fucking lengthy inch of the man, Yunho’s patience and stamina when it comes to the bedroom is fucking abnormal. Closing his eyes, he decides to get chatty as his body starts feeling that familiar coiling again. It’s a lot slower this time, but the pull is undeniable.

“I had to stand silent, listening to those girls talking about how they want you to fuck them.”

Yunho’s mouth curves into a smirk. “And how do you want me to fuck you?” he asks as his hips piston forward a little faster,

The teen’s eyes pop open. Suppressing a moan as the older man nudges against his prostate, he looks over to the right and grabs the pack of cigarettes and the zippo.

“They don’t like smokers.”

“Now isn’t that just too bad,” Yunho’s voice is dripping with insincerity, slowing his thrusts as he watches Changmin for the boy is trying to light a cigarette.

He succeeds on one try, dropping the lighter, he raises himself up on one elbow, eyes at half mast, taking a shallow drag from the cigarette, eyeing his fiancé with bedroom eyes that will drag anyone willingly down into hell with him.

Yunho growls, leaning forward to scoop the teen up further, he presses his mouth against Changmin’s as the boy parts his lips willingly once again, blowing smoke into him.

It’s a dance they have done before, and neither choke nor cough, eyes intent on the other, a connection that is impossible to talk about or even write about if anyone could see them in those moments. They stare at each other, the intimacy is devouring, as they share the cigarette and the slow wave of ecstasy that falls over them simultaneously this time.

Changmin’s arm is locked, hooked around Yunho’s neck, his chest heaving, his fingers trailing through the semi-dried and fresh traces of cum on Yunho’s vest that is beyond salvation and he really cannot bring himself to care as he leans against the man’s chest, suddenly overwhelmingly exhausted, closing his eyes and yawning.

“How cute.”

“Shut up and just carry me.”


The notice is tasteful, only a quarter of a page, but it is in every Sunday paper worth its salt in both Japan and Korea.

Jung Yunho is to be married to Shim Changmin in the year 2010, the month of December on the 11th. The couple request that you respect their privacy and that any and all questions be directed to Jung Corporation’s PR department at 02-xxx-xxxx or +82 2-xxx-xxxx

A man sits in a cafe, not unlike the one where not two days ago, a certain supermodel had left in a snit, his attention on a particular section of the papers.

“He really did win the night.”

AN: Anyway, someone suggested I donate my husband for a cooked dinner date and idk how that morphed into what I wrote but yeah lol.

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Okay wow. Wow wow wow. WOW.

Okay the two of them are just so bloody hot together I can't even.../fans self.

Also Changmin's insecurity makes me want to protect him against the world again hahaha. I am ridiculously Changmin biased in this verse. But for once I don't want to beat up Yunho with a pitchfork because he understands and doesn't expect Changmin to simply go along because it's the "most logical thing to do". But that bit about Changmin wondering if he matters and if his thoughts and feelings matter...and about him trying to keep things quiet because he thinks Yunho's going to come to his senses and leave him... ;; Poor bb, if only you knew how much Yunho loves and needs you even then even though even Yunho didn't know himself.

These two will always be my absolute favourites xD

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