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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

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Drabbles: Random Mix
Title: Drabbles: Random Mix
Pairing: YunJae / HoMin (not in the same story)
Rating: PG
Length: Drabble(s)
Genre: Mixed
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story.

Summary: Just a series of drabbles inspired by songs (and my husband’s nagging).

AN: These are all set within all my various universes + some nonAU. See if you can figure them out :)

Song 1: Come Undone - Duran Duran
Can’t ever keep from falling apart at the seams…

The message had been innocuous enough, a simple text message with no explanation, just a link. Seeing the sender, he’d smiled in between takes and replied, asking for it to be emailed because he doesn’t like watching videos on his phone.

Especially not videos sent by this particular person.

He receives a curt message in reply.

You can install Kakao on your PC, pabo-yah.

Several hours later, Jaejoong is in his room, sitting in the middle of his bed in front of his laptop, a little sweaty, chest heaving, nipples hard.

Hugging a cushion to his crotch to relieve the ache, he ignores the twinge in his injured thumb, as he bites his bottom lip and plays the video again.

And no matter how many times he’s seen it, he still gasps at the exact same part.

And no matter how many times he’s repeated the short video, he still cannot help that his eyes follow every muscled ridge and exposed skin, suppressing moans at the way he gets flashes of red with every movement, torn between pride and possessiveness.

Song 2: First Love - Utada Hikaru
Now and forever you are still the one…

He knows he has to let go.

He knows and yet he also knows that he cannot.

He has never known of anything or anyone else and he never wants it to be different.

He knew sixteen years was too much and he told the old wolf that time and time again for years.

Fucking years and he swore he wouldn’t leave him and yet here he is, staring out at their back lawn of the house he didn’t really want but had eventually grudgingly accepted as necessary what with two impossibly inquisitive daughters and two easily excitable sons who needed the space to run around - all alone.

The house is too fucking big.

Too fucking empty.

Even when both girls moved back in with their little families in tow.

Even when both boys visited daily with their own little families.

The house is still too fucking big.

And too fucking empty.

He leans against the window, cheek damp, staring out at the tree lined border of the property, the leaves turning gold and crimson as the seasons changed, and yet the hole in his heart remains, his entire being tired of existing.

Closing his eyes in the window seat set across from imposing desk of the large study, the colours of the room so intensely masculine to reflect the man who dominated it for years, he goes back to a time when he’d curl up with a book to wait for the man to finish his work.

The drowsy feeling intensifies, and he can barely open his eyes when he feels warm arms around him.

Familiar arms, but he knows it cannot be right.

Struggling to open his eyes, hot tears sliding out, his reflection in the window shows the impossible with him.

That stupid smirk that had him down for the count all those years ago.

The knowing gaze and heat in his eyes that can ignite a fire within him without so much as a word spoken.

He lifts a heavy hand to wipe away at the tears, injecting as much annoyance as he can in his voice.

“It’s about fucking time, old man. I thought I always came first?”

“Not this time, little one…but it’s time now.”

Song 3: Whisper - Evanescence
I can stop the pain if I will it all away…

He sits in the darkness, fearful and helpless just as he’d been the first time it happened a few months ago.

Back then he was worried about the baby sharing their bed, knowing he’d need to protect her if it came to it.

Thank god it never did.

This time, he is worried about himself.

Body gently rounded with the child he is carrying, he lifts his hand to card through his husband’s sweaty locks, the man locked in the grip of another nightmare, and he cannot help but flinch when he turns and presses his face against his bare thigh.

And even as he does, he chides himself firmly for it.

He will not give in to the darkness, nor will he let the darkness take his husband.

His hand moves rub at a clammy upper back, as he starts to sing in a voice that is little more than a whisper.

If you ever need me
Just tell me, and I’ll be there
‘Cos I was built for you
Yes, I was built to carry all your feelings

The pained sounds the man is making quieten slowly but surely, the darkness of the bedroom lightened by the sweet voice.

Moving his hand back up to Yunho’s head, his fingers scratch lightly and soothingly at his scalp as he continues to sing.

’Cos I won’t let them know
I won’t let you go, baby
I don’t care what your past is
I don’t need no answers
Just have faith in me

The fretful man stills completely under the gentle touch and angelic voice, unaware of the burning doe eyes staring into the darkness of their bedroom, challenging it to come back.

And it never did after that night.

What Jaejoong wants, Jaejoong always gets.

Song 4: Time Is Running Out - Muse
I think I’m drowning, asphyxiating…

They are in an industry that is perpetuated by lies. By glitz and glamour, but no one sees the pain underneath that glittering veneer. No one sees the hurt. No one sees the blood, sweat and tears. Rumours slip out every now again but when they do, the leaks are plugged and punished so severely that it silences everyone else; no one dares to speak, no one dares to talk.

The five of them are at the very height of their success when it all comes crashing down.

They say the higher you are the harder you fall.

They fell hard.

It is those same lies, the same pain and the same hurt that brings them back together.

The blood, sweat and tears.

Five brothers sharing in an unspeakable sorrow of the loss of one of their own.

An extended family - and the old adage is true.

You can choose your friends, but you cannot choose your family.

Some may disagree for they are not blood related.

But all five know better.

They know the truth.

Dear, My Family.

Yunho said it best.

’Till the end of my life
‘Till the end of this world
We will be together forever

Song 5: I Feel The Earth Move - Martika
I feel the sky tumbling down…

Yunho is undecided about whether to enter the kitchen.

There’s some sort of stand-off going on and he is sure that icicles are actually forming on the ceiling from the sheer frigidity of the atmosphere.

It is rare that Jaejoong’s mood stretches out to touch everything around him this intensely anymore, but he has a daughter that has managed to replicate his temperament to a T.

He decides to stay right where he is, out of sight. Call him a coward, but he’s not really prepared to have this conversation with their daughter either and if Jaejoong wants to have at it then he can go right ahead.

The former rock idol now record producer is more than capable of tackling this subject.

“You can ask a million times, and the answer will still be no.”

“Do you know how fucking hypocritical this is?”

“Of course,” the man doesn’t miss a beat despite his other half wincing in the shadows at their teenaged daughter’s scornful tone, not to mention colourful words.

The beautiful girl kicks at the bar, a scowl marring her features as she glares at the man who raised her. “What the hell were you doing at my age huh? Living it up, touring the country, earning tons of money and having fans who will do anything for you. Why are you being so selfish about this? It’s just an overnight party on a yacht. It’s not even going out that far. I’m already in university for fuck’s sake and you’re still treating me like I’m four.”

Jaejoong’s expression shifts minutely but Yunho catches the subtle change and he pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing the man is going to blow up.

He takes a step forward into the kitchen, hoping to intervene before it all goes to hell but he is stopped by a hand to his chest, and he turns to meet the eyes of his strapping son, the fifteen year old basketball athlete already almost eye to eye with him.

“Appa, don’t. I heard about this party and I don’t think she should go either. Dad will sort her out.”

And sort her out he did.

By the time he is done, the girl is in tears and clinging to him, face buried in his neck and apologising over and over and over.

She isn’t crying for herself though, but for what he had been through, made to go to similar parties, the one difference was that the shy seventeen year old visual shock of his group never wanted to go.

Hero Jaejoong was never one to mince words with his children, and if his daughter needs a reality check, then he will give her one no matter how ugly it is.

Song 6: Russian Roulette - Rihanna
So just pull the trigger…

“Do you really want to join me?”

Yunho’s eyes harden at the question. If anyone else were to have asked him in that mocking tone, he would deem them impertinent, but this is his father and he knows the question is justified.

He has been spending more and more time with the oyabun over the last few years because he only worked on Jaejoong’s tattoo in Japan under the watchful eye of one of his father’s best men. It would have likely be quicker and better for someone else to have done it but there was no way in hell he would have allowed anyone to touch his Jaejoong.

The pesky seventeen year old who had basically held him hostage in his own tattoo parlour had blossomed into a breathtaking beauty, and now at twenty-three, he shines even more, attracting attention wherever he goes.

Sheltered by his mother, and protected by his father, Jaejoong led a reasonably event-free life despite the family he is connected to. There was of course the entry by fire the first time the then teenager had been introduced to his father and what it truly meant to be mated to someone who is essentially the yakuza prince, but apart from that, the rest of the years had been relatively peaceful.

Until that night.

His father had been taken ill recently and some of the petty members of the criminal underworld had decided that perhaps it was time to attempt a takeover.

Their disunity would be their eventual downfall, but the killing blow would be their heedlessness of the warning inked into both Yunho’s and Jaejoong’s bodies. Ayako, his mother, was the original canvas for such warnings, and much blood had been spilled over her when Yunho was merely a child. His father’s ruthlessness over his territory, dealings, and beyond all stemmed from the simple need to protect his heart.

Ayako is his father’s heart, just as Jaejoong is his.

The attempted kidnap of Jaejoong that evening in order to facilitate a trade of sorts had sealed the fate of every single man kneeling in the main courtyard of the compound. His heart had been none the wiser, currently asleep under the watchful eye of his mother on the bathhouse terrace as the date rape drugs swirled through his system, heavily guarded by the oyabun’s most trusted men.

This time they had gone too far.

Yunho’s fists flex by his side at the thoughts running through his mind, but his face is implacable, betraying nothing as he turns to his father.

“Is this what you meant?” he asks. “Courage.”

The older man, still handsome despite his age, eyes his son carefully.

“Courage is a choice. You can choose to flee and be dictated by others, or you can choose to take it head on and dictate your own rules.”

The old man doesn’t show his minute discomfiture as he gazes into the eyes of his own heart, narrowed with a piercing darkness, the intensity in the younger man’s eyes sends an uncharacteristic shiver up his back.

“Let’s go.”

Yunho paces in front of the men kneeling in front of him, their hands bound behind their backs, blood smeared indiscriminately here and there over some of them, testament to the fight they put up when cornered and rounded up by the ruling oyabun’s men, literally battling for their lives for there is only one conclusion to the whole affair.

The question is whether it will be quick, or dragged out, for the man is known for being extremely creative with his punishments.

“Did my father ever tell you that I was training to become a surgeon?”

It isn’t so much the words that were terrifying, but the underlying menace in the tone and the fact that the handsome man speaking was testing a blade against his own finger, the cruel smirk twisting his cupid bow mouth when blood flows freely at the barest of touches.

Several bladders loosen, and the stench of bodily fluids only grows as the night wears on.

“Aren’t doctors supposed to preserve life?”

“I’m not a doctor.”

The tint of the infamous Wall of Life is different the following day.

Ayako notices it, but makes no comment.

Jaejoong notices too, and stops to stare at it, head cocked as if trying to read it.

Yunho notices him noticing, and prays that the gods listen and make him ignore it.

Perhaps the gods decided to be kind that day, for the shiny new surgical intern sighs imperceptibly before walking away, towards his own heart.

Noticing Yunho’s reticence as they leave, Jaejoong crawls into his lap, ignoring the bodyguards sitting in the limousine with them.

“Are you ok?”

“I should be asking you that,” Yunho’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but he does kiss the tip of the young man’s nose and wraps his arms around him. “You slept like the dead.” His hands slip under Jaejoong’s top and his bandaged finger rubs against bare skin.

Jaejoong notices of course and pulls the hand gently so he can have a look. His brow furrows as he sees the well-bandaged finger, wondering how he’d miss it before.

“What happened?”

“I cut myself.”

“Did it need stitches?”

“A handful,” Yunho admits.

“Why didn’t you let me do it?”

“You were asleep.”

“Who did it?”

“I did it myself.”

Thoughtful doe eyes take in the stark features of his boyfriend. The tattooist is pale, a little drawn, and there are heavy bags under his eyes. There is also a stark, slightly wild look about his eyes, but there is also grim resolve within them.

Jaejoong knows the old oyabun has been ill recently and he knows the man expects Yunho to take part in the family business.

A business that the old man had uncharacteristically assured him earlier that week to be mostly legitimate.


It will have to be good enough for him.

“Will you let me help you?”

Yunho looks up sharply, eyes alert as he takes in the guileless gaze of his heart. Eyes that he wants to remain innocent and untainted.

Just like his mother’s.

“You’re here and that’s enough.”

Jaejoong unbuttons Yunho’s shirt to find his own heart, placing his hand over the brilliant tattoo.

“Next time, let me stitch it back up.”

“What do you mean?”

Jaejoong doesn’t comment when he feels Yunho’s heart jumping and speeding up.

“If you cut it open, let me stitch it back up.”

The silence in the back of the limousine is uncomfortable for the three bodyguards sharing the space. All three are pretending to be invisible, wishing the airport was closer than it is, wishing they were riding up front, wishing they were in another car altogether.

All three know what happened.

They saw what happened.

And they know with utmost certainty that it will happen again.

Their young master had been as cold and ruthless as his father, wanted to cement the point he was making in blood and then some.

And yet, none had been killed by him.


Some might even be missing an organ or two.

But all were still breathing when he was done for the night.

It was his father who ordered their execution, the old man thoughtful as he watched his son’s retreating back, bloodied up to his elbows.

“I…” Yunho can’t find the words.

His little kumiho finds it for him.

“Your heart. Let me stitch your heart back up for you when you have to cut it open again.”

Yunho doesn’t wonder how much Jaejoong knows.

And Jaejoong never ever asks.

He just stitches.

AN1: I’m stuck in hospital and it’s hard to really get any sort of inspiration and I was getting unreasonably grouchy so my husband suggested these prompts. Belated Xmas and TVXQ Anniversary to all because I pretty much missed both, and here’s hoping I can finish all my WIPs in the New Year :3 May 2018 bring you inner peace and simply joys.

AN2: Song 2 killed me. And for those of you who are confused about it, it’s not YunJae. The age gap between Yunho and his supermodel was three months short of 16 years.

AN3: Also, I’m super sorry these are not very festive in tone. I’m not feeling festive at all and it showed I guess…

AN4: I probably should have written Song 6 as a separate oneshot hmmm…

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Those Utada's song though 😢😢
I miss trophy wife so much, but you gave us this? I can not help but imagine it like a movie scene: changmin is wrinkly, aging, and lonely old man gazed into emptiness while replay his life with yunho, then comes yunho's spirit hugged and asked changmin to join him. And boom suddenly their appearance change like how they first met 😢.

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