Hyung Joon/Jung Min

[snoozing_kitten]

Title: Sing it for the world
Pairing: Hyung Joon/Jung Min
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Thank you to be beta track_04, written for gyonggo_ss
Summary: In late 2010 Jung Min collapsed from exhaustion, Hyung Joon just needed to find a way to stay mad at him about it.





“I didn’t do it for you.” Came Jung Min’s hissed reply and he’s absolutely stunning when he’s angry. It’s nothing at all like the usual quick anger he shows on television, unable to fully hide his reactions. No, he’s well and truly pissed mouth tangled up in his fury, and maybe if Hyung Joon wasn’t so annoyed himself he would have probably backed down in face of it.

He hadn’t even known Jung Min was in the hospital, and it was Hyun Joong who had to text message him. ‘Is he okay?’ The shameguiltworryanger was bright hot like sodium flares more than enough to fuel this argument.

“Then what was all of this?” Hyung Joon made a circular motion with his hands to encompass Jung Min’s messy apartment, magazines strewn across the floor with clothing, or maybe the slightly paler spots on his walls where he used to keep posters of them. “Do you know how worried everyone was?” he hissed, and he was never the mother, but Kyu Jong wouldn’t yell and rail at Jung Min, and someone needed to; he’d just give him long disapproving stares.

That deflated Jung Min a little, all that rage inside him going out and leaving him standing there, just a sad, too-skinny man. Hyung Joon couldn’t stop it. “Do you know how worried I was?”

“I’m sorry okay.” Jung Min crossed his arms over his chest and Hyun Joon stared at the bony jut of his shoulder where it seemed sharp enough to cut through the flimsy cloth of his shirt. He hadn’t had any weight to lose, but went and tried to lose it anyway. “But it really wasn’t because of you, you read too much fanfiction. I’m not going to waste away just because you dumped me.”

“I did not dump you.” Hyung Joon flushed. “I do not read fanfiction,” he hissed and Jung Min laughed.

“Your loss.”

“I’ve checked on you. You’re fine. I’m going now.” He hadn’t even taken his coat off before they started fighting.

“See you around then.” Hyung Joon pretended like it didn’t burn low in his stomach how easily Jung Min said it. He managed not to get pissed off until he was standing on the street in front of Jung Min’s apartment building where there were too many people for him to scream out his frustration.

When they had been having sex it was like that all day every day with the unending mocking and lovingly dealt insults, but if there had been any screaming, it usually wasn’t the bad kind. He hadn’t realized how much he would miss Jung Min until he wasn’t in his face constantly anymore. He maintained they couldn’t have broken up because they were never dating; Jung Min continually, blithely ignored that argument. What they had was complicated. It meant Hyung Joon knew just what Jung Min’s toothpaste tasted like, kissing after they prepared for bed. Just how hard he needed to clap his hand over Jung Min’s mouth to keep him quiet when they might get caught. He knew what the most intimate and secret places on Jung Min’s body tasted like and the desperate way he would whine when Hyung Joon nibbled, right there, them.

He walked the block to his carpark, ignoring the way winter was biting at the air, making it nippy, the shortening days saying a fond farewell to autumn. When he was safely in his car, he let his head rest against the steering wheel and reminded himself to keep breathing.

Fuck.

That really couldn’t have gone worse if he’d wanted to piss Jung Min off on purpose. They knew each other so well, which meant that Jung Min knew exactly where to use the barest hint of teeth on his dick to get him coming in a right mess all over his face. But it also meant that no one could hurt him like Jung Min could. They were probably bad for each other. Scratch that, he knew they were bad for each other, like nitro-glycerine and a bouncy-castle. Inevitably somewhere along the line there was going to be an explosion and nothing you could do was going to stop it.

His phone vibrated where it was tucked in his breast pocket and he fished it out, not even hovering when he noticed who was calling. A picture of a white pony flashed under Jung Min’s name. It made Hyung Joon smile every time.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“That’s not how you greet someone older then you,” Jung Min bitched back and Hyung Joon smiled, not too mad then.

“Maybe if they acted their age...” It felt so good to just talk, not to think about how pissed he was at Jung Min. How ridiculously worried he had been when he learned he’d had to go to the hospital. There was a small part in all of them that was still sore about that one time he had to go to the hospital alone, because for all his bluster, Jung Min was startlingly fragile.

“You always address Leader politely.” Jung Min huffed on the other end of the line.

“That’s not the same.”

“Are you coming back?” Hyung Joon wondered how much it took for Jung Min to ask him that. Pride like the fiercest lion, Jung Min was the now or never type who wouldn’t back down for anyone. Ever. Except Hyung Joon this time. “I’ll make ramen.” He could sulk like the best princess locked up in her tower-- wait what?

“You hate ramen.” The answer was automatic, tripping over his tongue without him having to think about it really. He sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

It was probably a bad idea Hyung Joon mused as he slipped back out of the car and into the nippy weather. This break should have been enough time to drive some much needed distance between them, but he was every bit as unable to really say no to Jung Min as he was when they were still having regular sex with each other. This thing between them was sex and friendship and nothing more because they were two different beats. Yet, sometimes there was this totally inexplicable, impossible rhythm between them. He’d tried to actually write a song about it before, but it hadn’t worked; he couldn't manage to capture the impossibility of it. He’d need to write Jung Min a damn symphony before he would ever understand the way he felt about the taller man.

Soon, he was back in front of his apartment, but this time he didn’t hesitate when he was in front of the door, just knocked in three quick raps.

“Who is it?” Jung Min called from the other side of the door and he rolled his eyes.

“You know who it is.”

The door opened revealing Jung Min’s softer smile. “You never can be too careful, don’t know who could be at your door at this hour, you could have been an axe-murderer.” he said with mock seriousness. “Come in.”

They should probably have been talking, working things out, or at least not blatantly ignoring the potential energy simmering between them, waiting for the explosion. Well, they weren’t really ignoring it. Jung Min had his head tilted to find the perfect angle, inviting Hyung Joon’s tongue into his mouth with the barest flicks of his own tongue. He fitted his hand around his waist, noting how much slimmer it was than before, the way the edges of his hips dug into his hands. He felt like he could enfold him in his arms completely and just keep him there (Jung Min would kick and scream the whole way).

Tried to explain how he felt with his hands tracing the lines of his rib cage that led down to his waist with the edges of his nails. Jung Min responded by biting his bottom lip hard enough to hurt. Wordlessly, they fought even as Jung Min rubbed and shimmied, the edges of Hyung Joon’s wool coat scraping across his skin through his thin sleep shirt. There were a lot of little buttons and he didn’t want to take his hands off of Jung Min’s body long enough to undo them. It had been far too long since they had let it come to this. Somehow, it felt a little like they didn’t have a choice. This was just where they were going to end up again and again.

Jung Min broke the kiss with a little gasp and his face was flushing, lips starting to swell. One of his fingers traced Hyung Joon’s bottom lip with something like awe in his eyes and Hyung Joon kissed that finger.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” Jung Min admitted against his neck, where his warm breath was stirring the longer bits of his hair, fingers working down the buttons to his coat.

The coat finally came off and he wasted no time in shrugging it off, Jung Min already working at the buttons that held his vest together, all without pulling away any further than necessary. When that too was gone, he could feel the heat of Jung Min’s body against his chest; he pressed his cheek against Jung Min’s hair. He had no idea what to say to that, or even if Jung Min wanted him to say anything at all. This was getting personal, bordering on levels that were not just sex.

He’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been something a little more serious than just friends with benefits long before tonight. He was just good at telling himself that this was what he wanted to hear. He didn’t want to hear that he needed Jung Min, that he cared about him, that he could stay away but it would follow him like a shadow.

“Leader had to be the one to message me and say you were in the hospital.” He cupped Jung Min’s new and sharper jaw-line with his palms, pressing his thumb to the arch of his cheek, sweeping it up to the corner of his eye. “Everyone was really worried about you.”

“I just worked too hard.” Jung Min pouted at him. “I mean it. Whatever melodrama you are thinking about, there is nothing deeper than that.”

Hyung Joon kissed him with the intent of conveying that he didn’t care anymore why he did it, as long as he never did it again. For his trouble, Jung Min bit him again, even as the curious tips of his fingers brushed across his lower back, sliding up the back of his shirt. Growling, Hyung Joon held Jung Min’s face in his palms, forcing him to tilt his head in the direction he wanted so that the edges of Jung Min’s glasses would stop stabbing him in the cheek and he would stop biting him. Jung Min moaned into the kiss, less of a sound and more a vibration travelling between them where he was pressed up against the other man’s chest and neck.

“Hey.” He broke the kiss into a series of smaller ones, pulling Jung Min’s bottom lip into his mouth, letting his tongue roll along it instead of biting. Jung Min’s hands pushed up the back of his shirt, fingertips digging in just under his shoulder blades. “Your room?”

“Yeah.” With just barely enough space between them to manuver, Jung Min pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, leaving him only in his jeans while Jung Min traced the lines of his pectorals. He’d been working out a lot lately; Ki Bum was on a body building kick and Hyung Joon was weak when it came to denying his baby brother anything, even his time which was precious as platinum. He was moving his hands like he was mapping the differences, reading the definition in his abdominals. Of course he’d been doing the exact same thing, tracing the lines of Jung Min’s waist, finding how the curve of his ass fit into his palm perfectly now.

They were moving in an awkward three-legged-race kind of style, what with one of Jung Min’s long slender thighs shoved between his own, pressing the seam of his jeans up against his balls. He stopped them, pressing Jung Min against the doorway so he could duck his head and bite at Jung Min’s nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt. Jung Min’s groan echoed around them, punctuated by the hollow sound as his head hit the wall, fingers coming up to ruin his hair. Hyung Joon would never tell him but he loved the sound of his voice, when he was singing, and the soft, delicious sounds he made they were all alone. That was probably one of the highest compliments he had ever paid someone he wasn’t related to.

“I missed this.” Jung Min gasped into his hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head as Hyung Joon rubbed the flat of his thumb over the wet cotton clinging to Jung Min’s nipple. He shivered all over when he did that, so he did it again and again until Jung Min groaned, fingers digging into his hair at the base of his spine and caught somewhere between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Whatever he was going to say next dissolved into a moan that vibrated from deep in his chest and that Hyung Joon could feel with his lips the way his throat trembled. The edge of his nail dug into his nipple and Jung Min’s hips jerked against his helplessly. “Bed now or I am going to suck you off right here,” Jung Min snarled against his hair, fingers tugging at him and he shoved back harder, pinning Jung Min there.

“Try it.” Hyung Joon giggled, using his weight advantage and the fact that he had Jung Min right where he wanted him to keep him pinned there. It probably wasn’t healthy that even sex was a fight to them.

“Never had anyone say no to a blowjob before.” Jung Min laughed, sounding giddy and amused. Hyung Joon huffed against his shoulder.

“You didn’t have anyone but me,” he said back, scraping his teeth over the soft tendons and muscles in Jung Min’s neck. Jung Min rubbed at the back of his skull and sighed. That was the real reason they continued to crash together like cars zipping around the track. When you were a gay idol the opportunities and people you could trust with that secret were few and far between, and you took what you could get and you liked it. Of course Jung Min was always willing to buck the trend.

“So?” His voice hitched over the words so perfectly and the subtle muscle in his stomach tightened and his dick twitched in his jeans. He wasn’t even sure what they were arguing about right now, just that he needed to hear Jung Min’s voice. Needed to hear the tremor of his vocal chords, know that Jung Min voice could break scales but he could make him loose control, shaking and gasping. That was if he could stay on top long enough; even now Jung Min was fighting him, the leg between his thighs pressing up as long fingers tangled in his belt loops and pulled him down and into it.

Jung Min’s thin cotton bottoms were held on the angles of his hips by a string tie alone and it was no match for Hyung Joon at his most driven. With their legs all tangled together he couldn’t push them down too far, but it was all the space he needed, to rub the tips of his fingers along the sensitive head of Jung Min’s dick, and he hissed out something incoherent, tugging him closer still. The position was all wrong, but neither of them was willing to give an inch, pushing up against each other harder and hotter, Jung Min fucking his mouth with his tongue like he had all the time in the world.

Jung Min scratched his hand when they both fumbled with the button to his jeans at the same time, getting more in each other’s way then helping the effort along any. Not that it was going to stop them; they pulled apart long enough to get his boxers and his jeans down his legs, pooling at his feet. He even managed to get them off one foot before Jung Min was on him again, completely naked and trying to push or pull, or again somewhere in between, and they spun for a few moments, hands going everywhere. But he was the bigger one now and it didn’t take too much to have Jung Min pinned, snarling and hissing at him but pressed against the wall a few inches down from where they were a few minutes ago.

But this time they were both naked and when they slammed together it was skin on skin, and the unbearable heat of Jung Min’s cock sliding along the groove of his hip. Jung Min’s skin was warm and soft and he always took such careful care to moisturize and Hyung Joon could feel the attention when he ran his hands down the bumps of his rib cage. Jung Min’s fingers were digging into his ass and pulling him closer, their mouths breaking and catching, less kissing and more just sharing the hot, stale air between them.

“Bed?” Hyung Joon’s voice shook over the word and Jung gasped against his mouth, stealing the word away.

“Later,” he hissed.

It was rough, the push and pull, Jung Min’s slick skin pulling at the delicate skin of his dick, the wet head rubbing against his hip. He could probably come like this, pants around one ankle and wrapped up in Jung Min’s body and the tight bubble of heat they created. One of Jung Min’s hands wrapped around him, palm spreading the slickness down from the head across the tightness all the way down to where his balls were tightening between his legs.

He twisted away from Jung Min’s swollen mouth to lick his palm, reaching down to help him. Their fingers bumped and fought and somehow found that perfect balance, almost twisted together so that Hyung Joon’s ring was digging into the flesh of Jung Min’s thumb, but it was perfect, giving him a hollow slick place to thrust, Jung Min’s dick dragging alongside his.

Friction and heat and the soft sounds of Jung Min’s voice hitching and catching against the side of his face as they pressed together forehead to toes. Hyung Joon felt like he was trying to consume Jung Min entirely by pressing up against him, like some sort of osmosis could meld them together. Heat coiled tighter in his belly and he could taste the sharp tang of his orgasm with each shuddering gasp against Jung Min’s lips.

They moved together like they argued, with the perfect tug of give and take, as if Jung Min could anticipate just how he wanted it over every second. And maybe he could - his mouth was slack, eyes pressed shut, letting the wall take a large portion of both of their weight. He tried to let him know he was close, whispered something that was more vowels then constants against the soft skin of his cheek. Jung Min opened his dark eyes, blurry this close, and Hyung Joon realized he had no idea where Jung Min’s glasses had gone and that was the last fleeting thought he had before he was coming, body going tight for a delicious moment of suspended nothingness. Then he was jerking helplessly into Jung Min’s fist, almost sobbing as something in his chest snapped and he was making a right mess of their hands and Jung Min’s stomach, but it was washing through him and lighting his spine with fire seemingly unending.

It ebbed like the tide and his heart was pounding in his ears but not loud enough to cover the way Jung Min was whispering his name softly. He was hard, jerking his hips into Hyung Joon’s hand, the crown of his dick catching on his thumb as he moved and Hyung Joon rested his forehead against the jut of his collarbone so he could watch the play of their sticky hands over the moving head. It made the most obscene and slick wet sounds, and Hyung Joon could only revel in the odd rhythm and cadence of it. Jung Min shivered when he came, gasping uneven against Hyung Joon’s hair even as his dick pulsed and jumped in his hand, spreading sticky wetness across his wrist and dripping down between his fingers.

They stood there for a bit, leaning more on the wall than their own weight. He was curled so that he could press his face under Jung Min’s chin, pressing soft wet open-mouthed kisses across his shoulders. His lips were probably bruised and they tingled horribly, but he couldn’t stop tasting the faintest trace of sweat on Jung Min’s skin.

“Bed now?” And it was a demand, but he couldn’t be bothered to fight it. Giggled when he tried to walk and found Jung Min was standing on the other end of the pants still caught around his ankle.

They still had the rest of the night and there was more of Jung Min’s body that needed to be mapped with broad sweeps of his hand, curves that he had to lament and a new sharpness to explore. The next morning he was sore all over, his jaw aching from when Jung Min held his head steady and fucked the back of his throat with soft mewling cries. His ass also ached from where Jung Min’s fingers were long and surprisingly thick, slicked with too much lube and acting like he wanted to crawl up in inside him. His thighs ached from when Jung Min had slung his thighs cross his lap and rode him hard; Hyung Joon had dug his feet into the bedding and shoved up desperately to meet him, needing just that much more leverage to make Jung Min groan and hiss, narrow chest rising and falling too quickly.

Somewhere on the trail into the living room his coat was covering a pile of music magazines. He picked it off the floor with the hazy intention of eventually finding Jung Min’s coffee maker. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and cued up a text message. Leader, Young Seang and Kyu Jong. ‘He’s fine, I just checked on him.’

Jung Min would pretend to hate him if he knew, but that was what made it kind of fun. When he got his lazy ass out of bed they could argue about how this wasn’t a booty call, and that no it also it didn’t mean Hyung Joon was taking back breaking up with him. He couldn’t take it back because they were never dating in the first place. He’d try and remind himself that Jung Min drove him fucking crazy and they were bad for each other and he really shouldn’t love him.

Comments

[renichifreak.livejournal.com]

This was an AMAZING fic, bb...I was like, "O____________________________________________________O" the entire time

[snoozing-kitten.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it :3

[volatileflame.livejournal.com]

love this <3

[snoozing-kitten.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much!!

[mskatness.livejournal.com]

Love this, so much. Right combination of funny and hot. <3

[snoozing-kitten.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much! I'm super glad that you liked it!

[xiola-azuthra.livejournal.com]

omg why doens't this fic have more comments DX

coz holy shit. I haven't read such a good AND hot minjoon fic in... possibly ever o__o;;;

I'd stopped looking for MinJoon fic ages ago coz for some sad reason no one seemed to write nearly enough of it but I figured I should maybe look it up again now and... aalksdjglkhd I am SO GLAD I DID BECAUSE DAMN. *________*; So perfect.

I love you for this ;_; ♥♥

[snoozing-kitten.livejournal.com]

LOL! Thank you for the sweet comment! I'm really glad you liked it!

SS501 really could always use more fic in my opinion. ALWAYS. It's sort of sad that there isn't more.