Title: Across the Line
Chapter: [9 / ?]
Genre: AU (flangst, romance)
Summary: When you're a kid, no one tells you how hard it is to grow up; how easy it is to forget who you are. But if you don't know who you are anymore, how are you supposed to deal with all the lines?
Hate/Love Real/Fake Hero/Enemy Lust/Madness Lost/Found Past/Future
Hate/Love Real/Fake Hero/Enemy Lust/Madness Lost/Found Past/Future
It's a strange new world across the line, but two men are going to have to cross it if they ever hope to find their answers—and each other.
A/N: Here we are again! The chapter I put my blood, sweat, tears, and maybe even snot into! (I was sick, not crying. ;)
Jay ran his hands through his hair and gathered the loose locks into a small ponytail at his nape. Then he raked a headband through his fringe to keep it back.
The sun had risen enough that Jay could see it peeking through some of the trees around the court. No one was around, not even work-a-holic Seunghyun or practice-crazy Yunho. They all had a long day ahead of them on the eve of 100 Days but for now, at this early hour, Jay could breathe freely. He even wore his old sweatband on his wrist, the one he’d worn as Kim JaeJoong at his last ever tournament. He’d picked it up from the box of Unmentionables at his grandmother’s house after their dinner last night.
Jay had tried to let go of the things Yunho had said about him and his asshole parents, but Yunho’s recollection had haunted Jay for the rest of the evening and he’d had to visit his grandmother early to ask her about it. A lot of his childhood was a blur now but the one thing he did remember very clearly was how hard he’d tried to be the best person he could be. He had worked his ass off for tennis and everyone had liked him for that. But Yoochun…even Seunghyun and Yunho had more or less called him an asshole. He felt like he was about to shatter. Granny Kim had known it the second she had opened the door and seen his face. She had sat him down on her garish floral couch and made tea for them.
“You were not a horrible child,” she had told him almost straight away. “I would never have let you be one.” Which was true enough. Their chat had gone downhill from there though…
“You weren’t a snob either, my darling, but you were a little distant with people. Your friends included. That may have been mistaken as arrogance.” And that had been his grandmother’s diplomatic way of saying he wasn’t a snob, everyone just thought he was. Fantastic.
Jay gave a wry smile to his shoes at the memory as he bent to tighten his laces on the court.
Oh, but that wasn’t all. Granny Kim had even given him an example of his not-a-snob-but-kind-of-a-snob-ness. “I can still remember your tenth birthday, darling. You had finally reached double digits and we were all there to celebrate with you; but you got so cross with us because you didn’t want to spend time with your friends, you wanted to keep practicing on the court for a competition that was coming up.”
He hadn’t wanted to hear that. He didn’t even remember it. He just sighed. “My birthdays didn’t matter anyway.”
Granny Kim had sat forward on the sofa so fast a floral cushion had almost shot to the floor. It teetered on the edge as she grabbed Jay’s chin with enough pressure for it to hurt. “Your birthdays,” she had said with venom, “mattered to me.”
He hadn’t dared say anything after that; one chin grab had hurt enough. Granny Kim was like a wrestler when she was pissed, eighty-five or not.
“This is your real problem, Kim JaeJ… Jay. This attitude! This ridiculous belief that you aren’t special to anyone.”
“You were special to me! Before you ever picked up a racket. And your father had no right to make you think you weren’t. He had no right to tell you such abhorrent things, to— to— make you feel like you had to prove yourself, or— or— be grateful to him for—”
“Gran, please don’t.”
“No I have to, my darling. You have to know. You have to believe me.”
Oh god, he hated when she got emotional.
“You never had the childhood you deserved and I am so sorry I couldn’t do more to change that.”
He really, really couldn’t hear this. He’d block his ears if he had to.
“You know how happy you made me when you were so passionate about tennis but it got so unhealthy, my beautiful boy. It took over everything; you spent every spare second with a racket or an English book in your hand. You never played for fun, you never took a day off—”
“I wanted to—”
“Oh, I know you did. You’d forego sleep if it meant you’d get to be a champion sooner. All so that one day you’d have something tangible to prove to your father that—”
“—you were meant to be here. So that that man would look at you and regret his disgusting behaviour. You couldn’t see it because you were too young, but I could see it, my darling. All that excessive effort; all the friends you never had time for, never relaxed with…”
She said no more, finally noticing that Jay was seconds from getting up and leaving. The only reason he was still there on the couch was because the respect he had for his grandmother ran deeper than his urge to throw up and stop the conversation. They had never talked about what his father had told him before, explicitly or otherwise. He hadn’t even known that she’d known about the taunts. He’d certainly never told her. It wasn’t something he could tell. There had even been a time, sometime after his father had sat him down and told him all about the abortion clinic they’d been to, when he’d believed they all secretly felt the same… That they had all been advocating for his termination too, even after the first procedure had failed; that his grandmother was just making do with the result. But she had always smiled at him and played with him and he’d grown to know without any doubt that she at least had never hated him before he was even born. She had always been his greatest supporter. That didn’t mean he liked to talk about it though.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said, lifting his head up and brushing his fringe away to see his face better. “I don’t like talking about it either. I just didn’t want you thinking you were some horrible, arrogant child when you put tennis before everyone.” He let her hug him but when her arms got too tight, he couldn’t help fidgeting a little. “I’m so sorry your dream didn’t go to plan,” she lamented and hugged him tighter before finally releasing him. He could smell the familiar whiff of rosemary on his t-shirt and he would have smiled if he didn’t feel so uncomfortable.
The room was much quieter now, almost silent if not for the soft ticking of the bird clock in the other room. Or the slight tinkering of a porcelain cup striking a saucer. “I know how hard it’s been for you coming back here,” Granny Kim told him. “I still worry about you all the time and you’re not exactly helping me with all this skin and bone I’m feeling.” Her hands rose to his shoulders and she squeezed them for emphasis. “You look healthier than when you came back, but your cheeks are still a little…gaunt. You need to be kinder to yourself or I will pull my Grandmother Privilege card and boss you around.”
“Nothing but tough love here, ma’am,” he said.
She really should have grabbed his chin again with that wrestler grip of hers, but she pulled a wild card instead and just smiled. She already knew he had given in. She had always been able to see through his flippancy. Dammit.
And so here he was now at 6:30am, being good on his word to be kinder to himself. He still hated his given name and everything associated with it, but he really did love tennis and it was stupid to hold himself back from it now as if that had helped anything. He’d been damn good at the sport and he wasn’t going to hide that from anyone anymore. It was only a matter of time before his past identity came out anyway; maybe even just days if a lot of the town stopped by for 100 Days and someone recognized him. All he was doing was wasting energy trying so hard to keep his past a secret. It wasn’t like he was a criminal; the circumstances of his retirement were just humiliating. No one had to know the entire story though and he knew Granny Kim would never reveal it without his permission.
So he was going to pick up a racket right now—not his old one, some things were still too soon—and he was going to let the buzz take over, and be fucking brilliant. Shit leg and all.
“Alright, Jay-slash-JaeJoong,” he told himself as he looked around the court. “You can do this.”
He ducked into HQ to pick up one of the spare rackets from the cupboard and then headed back out to the Court A, the one he used to play on. The racket was heavier than his old one, a cheaper material, but it would be fine for his purposes.
He did a few stretches and then made sure the elasticised end of his pants hadn’t ridden up over his scarred knee. Then he rolled the ball trolley over to his left side, chose a ball at random and got into position. He smiled as he let the buzz in and felt the electricity run up his arms. He ran his fingers over the ball’s felt and then released it into the air and sprung up to hit it. It wasn’t the best test of his skill when no one was there at the other end to hit it back to him, but he hadn’t even let himself serve properly during their group practices and it felt so freakin’ good. Fuck yeah he could still serve like a bitch.
The glowing yellow ball in the sky rose higher with each shot he made but he only really noticed how much time had passed when he saw a figure walking down the hill. It wasn’t work-a-holic Seunghyun but practice-crazy Yunho; who, Jay realised a little guiltily, wasn’t actually there to practice but to get ready for an interview about their club for a sports magazine. CORE SPORTS had agreed to conduct the interview and photo shoot on location for authenticity. Yunho was really doing the club a favour, giving up practice to promote it.
Jay tried not to smile when he noticed the shape of a racket bag slung over Yunho’s shoulder anyway. He really wasn’t surprised.
As Yunho got closer, Jay lifted his wrist and swiped the wristband over his face to mop up the sweat there—hopefully he didn’t look as gross as he felt—but he needn’t have bothered; the other man’s attention was all on his phone as he walked. Whatever Yunho was reading was making him frown. The frown didn’t abate as he turned the screen off and slipped the phone into his pocket. Jay was about to ask him if he was okay when he glanced up and gave Jay a nod. “Hey,” he greeted, then paused to take in the mess Jay had made on the court.
“Thought I’d practice a bit,” Jay told him even though that much was pretty obvious; balls covered the ground everywhere like a chunky lime snow. Only a few balls remained in the basket trolley.
“Yeh… Yeh, good on you.” Yunho’s gaze lingered on the lime snow and Jay wondered what on earth he’d been reading on his phone to be so spaced out.
“Uh…” Jay retied the bits of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail until a thought struck him. “Do you think they’ll need this court for the interview? It’s your court, I didn’t think of that before I started. Sorry. I’ll go clean it up.”
This time Yunho looked back at him. “No, it’s fine. I can do it.”
Jay just stared at him. “You’ll do what now, sir?”
Yunho laughed at Jay’s expression and said, “It’s my favourite part,” before walking backwards towards the net. Jay could only watch, bewildered, as Yunho whipped a red racket from his bag, tossed the bag to the ground and then ran towards the thickest patch of lime snow. He started piling up as many balls onto the racket strings as he could fit and then added several layers on top of that until a huge pyramid of balls stuck up from his racket. Then he shifted his feet and picked the whole thing up, his muscles bulging a little under the weight, and brought it over to the basket trolley. He tipped the racket and all the balls tumbled into the basket with the sound of a small avalanche.
Yunho’s face had been full of concentration the entire time but when he looked up at Jay, he was grinning. “When I was a kid, our coach here had this awesome game where each ball was worth ten points. So at the end of our lessons, there was a battle to see who could score the highest points.”
Something about Yunho’s wording made Jay want to laugh. “A battle, huh?” He had never played a game like that with his childhood coach but he did vaguely remember a lot of kids scampering around the perimeter of the courts and making a lot of noise.
“Oh yeh,” Yunho confirmed. “Absolutely a battle.” Jay couldn’t help noticing that the grin on Yunho’s face looked a little bloodthirsty as he reminisced. Yunho hadn’t been exaggerating then.
Jay’s reaction seemed to sober the other man up and he sighed with a sudden look of sheepishness. “I’m terribly competitive,” he told Jay. “I know, I know, you wouldn’t think it with my crappy head lately but I am. It was dog eat dog in that game and I may have done some awful things.” He was bouncing the side of his racket against his shin as he spoke but he didn’t seem to realise he was doing it. Clearly a guilty confession was coming up and Jay tried to keep his smile at bay.
“I mean, I never elbowed a kid in the head or anything, but it got close a few times… I, um…” He looked away from Jay and then mumbled, “I tripped someone over once. I think it was an accident, but…” The shin tapping increased. “I can’t actually be sure.”
Jay’s lips were aching from trying to maintain a straight face, but when he told Yunho, “You beast,” there was no mistaking the laughter there.
“I have that in me,” he told Jay very, very solemnly.
“I do and it scares me. I would trip a kid over for twenty extra points.”
Jay lost the battle and threw his head back. Yunho was smiling too when Jay was done laughing, twirling his racket a little in his hand.
“I might not mention that part in your interview,” Jay advised him, still grinning.
“I know,” he said, dropping the tip of the racket back to the ground and nudging the surface with it. “It’s a little feral.”
“Mm.” Jay spread his arms out towards the lime snow. “Well, that’s got to be worth at least five hundred points.” He gave Yunho a look. “Well? Off you go.”
A brilliant smile lit up Yunho’s face and in seconds he was back in his corner, hunched over his racket and shovelling balls onto it. Jay watched him for a little bit, unable to laugh at the dedication that was so obvious in his movements and expression. If Yunho gave all of himself to just a silly little challenge like this, then he really didn’t have anything to worry about; except for, perhaps, the dangerous hint of perfectionism. His focus was phenomenal and if he applied that to his actual matches without letting his inner critic break through, then he was going to go far in the sport. A touch of mindfulness could help strengthen that core focus and handle unhelpful thoughts, and any sport psychologist could help him with that.
Jay’s eyes trailed the younger man as he flipped his racket over the basket and faithfully darted back for more. This time Jay watched the curve of his back as he reached for more balls. And then he caught himself gazing at the bottom of Yunho’s black tank top, which kept riding up and exposing a lot of tan skin above his jeans. Yunho had talent and sex appeal on his side. It was unfair for everyone else but that really, really would work in his favour; at least for endorsements. And that meant cash and confidence. And groupies. Jay shifted his weight and crossed his arms.
Yunho was already getting interviews and pictures taken and he hadn’t even reached his full potential yet. He had that rare charisma that drew you to him even when he wasn’t playing. Ricky had that, as did all the greats. Well, not all the greats but certainly the ones people actually gave a shit about and rooted for.
Jay felt a sigh building up. Yunho’s life was going to be crazy busy when he returned to his matches. He really wouldn’t need to be back here again, would he? A week or two earlier and Jay would have been pleased. Now he kind of didn’t want to see him go. Obviously the average hotness around the club would plummet! And…there’d be no more strange moments like this that made time disappear…
Jay glanced at his watch even though he didn’t even know what time the interview was supposed to start. It felt like there was time though. He looked back up at Yunho and felt a smile spreading across his face. The other man was reaching for a bunch of balls a few metres away but he had left his racket wide open. Such a big mistake.
Jay’s grin widened as he ran to snatch the racket out from under Yunho in a fantastic dive. Half the balls rolled over the edge as he moved the racket far from its owner but the real prize was already in his hands. He dumped the racket in the opposite corner and started piling his own stash of balls onto it, counting them as he went. There was an irate shout from behind him but that just turned Jay’s smile into a shit-eating grin. Yunho’s first mistake had been airing his weaknesses. His second mistake had been to think that Jay wouldn’t do something about it. Jay was competitive too, especially when it came to silly games.
Jay looked over his shoulder to savour Yunho’s expression but the other man had already run past the net towards the spare racket Jay had dumped there. Oh he was good.
Jay quickly piled more balls onto Yunho’s pretty red racket and then dashed over to the ball trolley to dump them in. When he turned back, Yunho was already ankle-deep in balls with a pile already forming on the shitty spare racket. Did the man have tentacles for arms or something?
Jay ran to reload his empty racket, almost tripping over a stray ball in his way. He thought he was doing pretty well despite feeling like a dog shovelling through sand on all fours, but a blur of colour passed him and he swore under his breath. That man was not going to win! Not after Jay’s fucking brilliant interference before.
Jay pushed off the ground, abandoning his racket, and ran to the ball trolley. Just as Yunho reached it and tipped his racket, Jay struck his leg out and gave the metal frame a good, hard kick. The whole trolley sailed away in a cacophony of creaks and groans and old rumbling wheels. It was too late for Yunho to tip his racket back up and save his stash, and ball after ball rained down to the ground, bouncing away from them in a noisy stream. Jay clutched at his stomach, laughing unapologetically at his own genius timing and Yunho’s gobsmacked face.
“Oi!” the man said, turning to Jay with his nearly empty racket. “I elbow kids in the head! Do you really want to go there?”
“Well…” Jay grinned at him as he returned to his corner. “Technically you just trip them over.”
Yunho was smiling as he shook his head at Jay, and that made Jay feel even more victorious. The downside to his sabotage though was that the trolley was now closer to Yunho’s side of the court. That was okay though because he was still ahead of Yunho. His pyramid was almost done and the last he’d seen of Yunho, the man had been bent over the shitty racket.
Jay threw a few more balls on top of his racket and then lifted the heavy pile up. He really needed to work out again because his arms were starting to hurt a little. He eyed the trolley a few steps away and then gasped as his feet left the ground. Arms had grabbed him from behind and wrapped around his chest, trapping him in a bear hug. Shock turned to laughter as Yunho spun him around and his racket emptied around them like a lime sprinkler.
He was still laughing when Yunho dumped him back onto the ground several feet away. A warm pressure by his back and sides steadied him so he wouldn’t trip over the hurricane of balls scattered around the eye of the storm, and then Yunho slipped away from him again.
He still hadn’t gotten his breath back when Yunho returned to the basket. He listened to the rumbling of balls hitting the pile and rubbed the spot on his chest where Yunho had grabbed him. The pressure had faded but he couldn’t seem to get the lightheaded feeling to do the same.
Yunho glanced up at him from the basket, assessing him, and then walked right past to the few remaining balls on Jay’s side of the court. He wasn’t even running, the bastard. And as he walked, the shitty racket just casually dangled from his hand like an extension of his body, as if Jay were no more of a threat to him than a piece of cardboard, or— or— Seunghyun!
Jay grit his teeth and ran over but Yunho was waiting for him. He didn’t even have time to yell as Yunho turned around and grabbed the bottom of his shirt and yanked it up over his head until Jay was trapped in his own shirt like a blind zombie. His breathing heated the material covering his face and he laughed at the absurdity, stumbling back and losing the rest of his balance. He toppled over onto his back with his feet in the air like a dead cockroach and heard Yunho’s expensive racket clatter somewhere behind him. If his racket got damaged, that was so not on him!
But he could hear Yunho laughing from his other side and then the man called out, “Twenty Extra Points!” by way of explanation, before his footsteps ran off to collect his bounty.
Jay untangled himself from his shirt, pulling the entire thing off and tried to whip Yunho’s legs with it when he returned with the last two balls in his hands. The move was completely useless so Jay leapt over to grab Yunho’s ankle. Yunho hopped to keep his balance but came down hard when Jay didn’t let up. The fall knocked one of the balls from his hand and but they were both too busy laughing—Jay’s raucous and loud, Yunho’s boylike and giggly—to do anything about it.
“I Twenty Extra Points¬-ed your arse!” Jay heckled in between his pants as he got up and cashed in at the basket.
Yunho dumped the ball he hadn’t let out of his grip, even after falling, into the basket too and then his hands were on his hips. “You used my own move against me.” His panting diluted the accusation but his narrowed eyes got the message across. He stepped closer to Jay and then lowered his head until their eyes were even. It would have been intimidating if Jay hadn’t noticed the shadow of a smile on his lips. “And you stole my racket.”
Jay had managed to keep a straight face through all of that, but at that last reminder he felt another shit-eating grin appear. “Guess I won then.”
“Oh really?” Yunho hadn’t moved away but his eyes had narrowed even further. “How many balls did you actually get in?”
Jay cocked his head to give it some thought and then his grin widened. “I don’t know. I lost count about two stacks and one ankle grab ago.”
Yunho’s faux anger vanished as his eyes crinkled up, and he nudged Jay away from him as he laughed. “If we go by appearances,” he taunted as he pushed the trolley over to the fence where it was out of the way, “then I won.”
Jay looked down at the patch of dirt on his belly and then over to the shirt that lay crumbled by the net. His headband was missing too and probably lying half broken somewhere. He blew his messy fringe out of his eyes. “That just means I am manlier,” he told Yunho.
“Oh, that means you’re manlier?” Yunho echoed, turning back around, “because all that shirt tossing tells me is that you can’t handle the heat.”
Jay gave a devilish grin and pointed to the flames tattooed over his chest. “I am the heat.”
Yunho’s eyes dropped to the red flames curling into his skin and he started laughing again. “Touché.”
“Yeh,” Jay give him a firm nod, “So don’t go getting all up in my grill, because all this testosterone”—Jay swiped a hand across his face—“will destroy you.”
Jay waited for Yunho’s response, feeling a little smug, but there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on Yunho’s face anymore. Jay felt his smirk falter. He’d been joking around so why wasn’t Yunho laughing? He was supposed to be laughing, not looking like someone who wanted to— Oh god. Jay barely had time to close his eyes before Yunho’s lips were on his.
What the fuck was even—
But if felt so good. His lips moved in time with the other man’s and he lost himself in the warmth. He opened his mouth and tried to remember to breathe as their tongues met.
It ended abruptly when Yunho pulled his face away but Jay clamped his hand around the back of his neck and pulled him back to his lips. The kiss was shorter this time but it at least ended naturally. Jay’s grip loosened but Yunho’s face stayed close for a few more breaths. Then Yunho took one long deep one and stepped back from Jay properly, ensuring there were a few paces between them. He looked as confused as Jay felt.
“I’m sorry,” Yunho said. “That was inappropriate.” But Jay was still getting his breath back and shook his head at him in return.
Yunho nodded but he still looked a little ashen. He backed away further and then bent to retrieve his racket from the ground. “I really didn’t mean to… You were just attractive for a second.”
Jay opened his mouth and then closed it as he felt the slap of the backhanded compliment. Yunho seemed to hear it too and looked up from his racket with a short laugh. “I did not mean that the way it sounded. You’re actually very compelling.” He then nodded to himself, his eyes lowered, and a wry smile emerged. “I’m not normally so careless. I’m supposed to be discreet; hotel room or nothing.”
Jay nodded. Of course. He hadn’t even checked to see if anyone was around. But…
He could feel the lightheaded feeling starting to come back as he heart raced but he silenced his head and looked Yunho right in the eye. The other man stared back and Jay let his lips curve like the old days. He started taking a few steps back towards HQ, his smile growing when Yunho’s eyes never left his. They were on the same page then. He turned around, displaying his back and the sharp line of his wide shoulders that narrowed to his waist. He knew from experience it was his best feature and the 3D tattoo enhanced it. And of course he already knew Yunho was fascinated with that tat. Way too easy.
Jay felt Yunho following close behind as he led them into HQ, but one glance around proved the main room wasn’t safe for privacy either; there were still no fucking curtains. Of course there weren’t. Fucking brilliant.
Jay eyed the door to Seunghyun’s office and then headed for it. It was going to be hella wrong to make out with Yunho in his best friend’s prized space but it was a hell of a lot bigger than the bathroom. Jay threw the office door open and eyed the vacant space. Yeh, it would be—
There was a crash from behind Jay and he whipped around right into Yunho’s chest. The momentum pushed him back into the room, glued to Yunho, and he wrapped an arm around the man’s waist before he could fall over. Over Yunho’s shoulders he could see Ricky sprawled on the floor but then Yunho kicked the door shut and held Jay’s face still to deliver the beginning of one incredible kiss. And Jay gave as good as he got. It had been too fucking long since he’d been able to get away with this stuff; to kiss good trade* and not give a shit about anything else for that moment. Not since Australia at least, and god was Yunho good with his hands. He could feel them caressing the sensitive parts of his flank, down to his navel, and he had to hold back a moan that would have been far too breathless. No way was he going to sound so easy in the first few fricken’ minutes.
But fuck— The way Yunho was gripping his waist like Jay was some sex god he’d fight everyone else for was making him so hard. Yunho’s tight grip melded Jay to him and every tiny movement made their dicks brush. He rolled a little into Yunho but the man’s grip was so tight there wasn’t much room for anything but jerky, manic rutting. The stimulation cut their kisses into shallow pecks but Jay needed more; he needed Yunho’s tongue devouring him, he needed that warmth, that outlet for all the voraciousness in him or he was going to burn up.
He forced some space between their hips to redirect Yunho’s passion to his mouth, but the empty space left his cock throbbing and his hips rolled against Yunho’s again. It knocked a loud gasp out of him and there was a muffled grunt against his lips as Yunho felt it too. Then Yunho’s hands slid around the small of his back, past the elastic of his briefs to cup Jay’s arse and— Fuck! Jay had to break the kiss to moan at length; Yunho had slipped a finger dangerously close to the ring of nerves that hadn’t been stimulated for a while and the very real possibility of those fingers penetrating him for real was too fucking much.
Jay’s chin dropped to Yunho’s shoulder and his nails grazed Yunho’s scalp as he ran his hand up the side of his neck and into his hair. Yunho jerked away a little and Jay’s hand hovered over the tender area, remorseful enough to wait for the sting to fade but desperate to hold Yunho again. This time he did feel Yunho’s finger push inside him and he cried out into the man’s shoulder. He was sounding easy again—it was only one finger for Christ sake—but this wasn’t supposed to happen—at all—and their being in that room—Seunghyun’s fucking office—made it worse so Yunho needed to fuck him—with more fingers, or his goddamn fist, or even a fucking tennis racket—to make the whole thing perfect. A dick would be even better but he didn’t allow any near him without a rubber and not even the best orgasm could distract him from that.
The minor penetration grew more intense as a second finger joined the first and Jay’s head fell back. It bared his neck to Yunho, whose lips seemed drawn to it; he’d been trying to kiss Jay’s neck already as he slowly rutted against Jay, but now that Jay’s collarbone was exposed, Yunho dipped his head further and pressed his lips there. Yunho’s hair brushed the skin under Jay’s chin with each kiss and it felt a little coarse. Yunho had obviously put product in it for the interview. The rough contact was nothing compared to his fingers though and Jay felt a new groan surfacing.
“Oh god…” he murmured, rutting against Yunho even as the words slipped from his lips, “But… No sock, no entry.”
There was no response at first but then Jay heard an acidic puff of air near his ear and Yunho’s fingers slipped out of him.
“Sorry,” Jay felt the need to add. Yunho’s fingers had been doing some nice work back there…
“No, you’re right,” Yunho acquiesced, but Jay frowned as his hand withdrew from Jay’s pants altogether.
“No, I don’t. Not in my wallet or my pants.”
“Your car?” Jay would be willing to hold off for that distance.
Instead of a proper response, Yunho just chuckled and slipped his hand into the front of Jay’s pants instead. Jay let out a yell as firm fingers gripped his shaft and started pumping it. He hadn’t even had time to feel disappointed about the condom situation. The man was a pro. Of course he was; he made a living from his firm grip. All those days of endless practice on the court leading up to this one fucking amazing handie…
With each tug, Jay felt his breath leaving him and his insides hollowing out. He lost himself in the hard grip and tried to kiss that warm mouth one last time before he came. Yunho had already moved away though, seeming to sense the same signs and saving his only shirt from a splatter of sticky spunk. Jay didn’t have the capacity to think much of anything let alone something so practical and just slid to the carpet, mess and all. When his breath returned, he looked up at the man who had made such a pile of slush out of him and remembered he was currently the only pile of slush in the room. Yunho’s tight jeans were barely holding his erection in and Jay reached up to pat it.
“Oh fuck! My—”
“Your interview, I know,” Jay said, rising to his knees and yanking the man’s jeans down, then his— Holy fuck, there was nothing else. The man had been fucking commando this whole time? For an interview? That was fucked. That was so fucked and so fucking hot.
“Bad, bad boy,” Jay grinned, stroking the burning flesh with his finger. The other man just jerked closer and Jay stilled his laughter to take him into his mouth. This was another area he had confidence in; not only would Yunho be on time for his interview, there’d be no mess to clean up.
It only took a few seconds before he felt hands grabbing at his hair, pulling it a little too hard, but fair was fair and Jay could take pain. Then the string of quiet moans accompanying the hair tugging grew louder and Jay felt ready to up the ante and take Yunho in further. His cock was quite big though and even with a relaxed throat, Jay couldn’t always work miracles. When he swallowed for him, it was apparently enough though because the hands in his hair grew rougher and he could feel the other man tensing. He liked a sensitive man. And a verbal one. Yunho seemed more restrained in the verbal field though; quite possibly the habit of a very private man. Jay was lucky discretion hadn’t been an issue when he had come out overseas. He couldn’t imagine having to keep his mouth shut the entire time, thin walls or not. Where was the fun in that?
Jay played with Yunho a little bit more and waited for just a teeny bit more desperation to colour his panting, then he gave a nice little finale with his tongue and swallowed the stream of cum that followed. True to his unspoken promise, there was no mess once he’d cleaned his lips.
Yunho sank against the door while Jay preened, his head tilted right back. His eyes were shut tight, his dark eyelashes resting on olive skin as he continued to pant the adrenaline away. Jay watched him and ran his tongue over his lips one more time to check for anything salty, but he still came back clear. He was so allowed to be smug right now. And indulge in it. He smiled at the man beside him who was still breathing deeply and then glanced to the floor between their legs.
Yunho’s eyes shot open and he looked down to the spot Jay was fussing over.
“For fuck’s sake!” Jay raged on, back on his knees and bent over the darkened patch on the floor. “I had to pick the one fucking room in the entire building that has carpet!” He tried to rub the cum away—his cum, in his best friend’s sanctuary. Fuckity fuck! Now that the erotic high had faded, Jay was left with all the friggen annoying practicalities of spontaneous hand jobs and fellatio in the workplace. His eyes narrowed further as he heard quiet chuckling from beside him.
“Have fun cleaning that up…”
“Oh fuck off,” Jay threw back, but the corner of his lips curled upwards as he glanced at Yunho. “Go do your interview and try not to think of me.”
“Yes,” Yunho said, “I do try not to look like a guy who’s just had a blow job in my interviews.”
Jay just grunted and opened the door for them. Did they have a sponge in the bathroom? He went in to check, narrowly missing tripping over Ricky, and then froze as he heard voices outside. He ran to the doorway and stuck his head out. A bunch of suits had arrived along with a few hipsters carrying camera equipment. Thank god Seunghyun wasn’t with them. And thank god Yunho was good with people because he had already intercepted them; they were all moving away from HQ and towards the courts. Sucks to be Yunho having to be all professional after—Wait, had Yunho washed his hands? Jay glanced at the sink near the fridge. Surely… Coz that would be gross.
Jay returned to the small bathroom at the back of HQ and busied himself cleaning up Seunghyun’s carpet with some wet paper towels. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long to dry. If Seunghyun asked, it was lemonade.
As Jay washed his hands at the sink, he looked up at the mirror on the wall and took a good look at his face. He half expected there to be some sort of damning evidence there but his face was fine. He wasn’t flushed and his eyes were dark brown as normal with only a little mirth shining in them. There was even a little hint of the damn frown line that had taken up permanent residence by his eyebrow.
He shook his head and looked down at his chest. He’d been kissed a lot there by Yunho. Sighing, he turned the tap back on and cupped some water in his palm before giving his neck and collarbones a light rub-down. It would have been nice to at least have kept that memory alive, but then he probably would have thought about it too much and given himself away to Seunghyun…
Jay stepped over Ricky and looked around the main room for his shirt. A prick of horror hit him when he remembered his shirt had never even made it to the main room; it was still somewhere on the court with his headband and the spare racket.
On the court Yunho had been setting the interview up on.
Jay ran his hands through his hair and tried to peer out the window without being seen. Damn those fucking non-existent curtains! He was totally trapped in HQ until Seunghyun— Oh double shit! If Seunghyun didn’t show up in time, Jay would be the only representative of the club—and he was shirtless with tattoos!
Jay scrambled closer to the wall of glass and tried to catch Yunho’s attention. Most of the magazine staff had their backs or at least profiles to the club building so Jay could be liberal with his gestures. It took a moment for Yunho to return his gaze though, and even then it was hard to tell if he was looking at Jay or just one of the suits. Jay pounded his chest a few times with an open palm and waited for Yunho to do something, but the other man just turned back to the suits and kept talking.
Jay would kill him!
Moving further along the glass wall (more of a zoo exhibit now), Jay tried everything but friggen Gangnam Style to force the bastard tennis player to look at him again. When he did, Jay gestured emphatically to his flame tattoo and then behind him to the very noticeable, very grotesque skin-ripping-into-parchment tattoo on his back. If Yunho didn’t get the risk of someone in the media noticing their supposedly family-friendly club was run by a guy ridden with tattoos, then Jay really would kill him. But Yunho’s gaze on him was serious and he gave an imperceptible nod. After a moment, he said something to the men and lady in front of him and gestured to the HQ with his water bottle. Then people started moving—everywhere, including the hipsters—and Jay scrambled back to the four walled fortress of Seunghyun’s office.
He pressed himself to the wall and then stuck his head out in time to see Yunho sliding the glass door open. Yunho looked serious as he stepped into HQ. He seemed different, distant. It was the face Jay was beginning to recognize as his professional one. It made it hard to tell if he was pissed at Jay or not.
Jay could see his shirt crumpled up like a towel in Yunho’s hands though. At least he’d brought it in. Yunho’s other hand held the half-empty drink bottle he’d been gesturing with before. He dumped that by the sink, not even looking at it as his eyes swept the room. Then those dark eyes landed on Jay.
It was so quiet Jay could hear the scrape of his jeans as he walked forward. Jay swallowed, then stood completely bewildered as Yunho stopped in his tracks, looked at Jay closer, and burst out laughing. Jay was glad the mask had cracked but he didn’t appreciate being laughed at. What was so funny anyway?
Jay didn’t have time to ask; Yunho finished laughing and came at him with a grin. He thrust the dark bundle of clothing against Jay’s chest, pushing him further into the room and didn’t remove his hand until Jay’s legs hit the back of Seunghyun’s desk. Then he kissed Jay, long and hard. When they broke apart, Yunho was still grinning in a way that would have made Jay want to hit him if his head wasn’t still stuck in the moment Yunho had first put his mouth on his. He’d even dropped the damn shirt again.
“Just as a head’s up,” Yunho said as Jay bent down to retrieve it, “those guys outside want a tour of your HQ after the shoot. I told them there’d be a proper introduction with Seunghyun.” He cast a look outside the doorway and then looked back at Jay. “You might want to get rid of any inappropriate items in here.”
Jay blinked after him for a few seconds, saying nothing as he watched the taller man return to the sink. Water thundered into Yunho’s bottle from the tap but Jay’s eyes were glued to the tight jeans that clung to his arse and thighs. Of course Yunho could do such a menial task without giving a shit that he was commando, but if something awkward happened in that interview it would serve him right. In fact, Jay hoped there was a hole in his pants. He hadn’t checked, but after all the roughhousing they’d done on the court earlier, his hopes were high.
Yunho finished up at the sink before Jay could think any further on the matter and then slid the glass door wide enough so that he could bring two chairs out with him. Jay would have helped him carry the chairs out for the interview but right now he had a feeling he looked like a ferret who’d tried to crawl through a toilet paper roll. He hadn’t even fixed his hair or tamed his crumpled shirt.
If he was honest, he kind of liked that though. He hadn’t allowed himself to be so dishevelled in ages. Trying to fight his own nature and be a goody two-shoes in front of Seunghyun was great for grounding him but it wasn’t much fun. This sneaking around and giving clandestine blowies in the back office was very, very fun. Sure, he kind of had a habit of taking things too far sometimes but no harm could come from a bit of hanky panky.
Only to the carpet.
Jay fixed his hair up from the latest incident, then headed for his laptop to actually get a bit of work done (and maybe spy a little out the window) but his shin smacked against something solid on the way over and he crashed to the ground. “Geeeeezus!” he yelled at the thing that had tripped him up and almost given him a concussion on the edge of the table.
He almost laughed when he saw it was just Ricky. No one had set him straight after Yunho had accidentally fallen into him earlier.
“Well,” Jay said to the cardboard cut-out, “You definitely count as an inappropriate item.” If not Ricky then definitely the board that hung around his neck. It seemed Yoochun had left them—him—a new gift. Jay righted their mascot and then reached forward to lift the board up and read the new message scribbled on it.
^ De-DEUCE my heart
“Deduce your heart, huh?”
Ricky just smirked at him and Jay tried not to smile as he removed the awful pun from around his neck. “No, I haven’t forgotten about you, my darling,” he said out loud. “It was just one blowie. I’d do the same for you if you weren’t, you know, cardboard.” He laughed under his breath and brought the small whiteboard into Seunghyun’s room, then tossed it onto Seunghyun’s desk for him to deal with. He probably should have rubbed the message off first but Seunghyun would no doubt love the awful pun. Even if Yunho crashing into it earlier had distorted the D.
“Deduce your heart,” he said again, shaking his head as he moved Ricky out of the way for the tour. “Well, if I had to guess yours, where do I start? You must love me because you keep hanging around here, refusing to leave. You smirk at me like a player—and I don’t mean in the tennis way—but beneath all that bravado, you’re just hopelessly in love with me, aren’t you? And that is perfectly fine because I love you too, honey-bunny.”
“You’re lucky I had no hands free to record that.”
Jay almost jumped right into Ricky at the sound of Seunghyun’s voice. He turned, his heart still hammering in some sort of mix of guilt and embarrassment, and watched Seunghyun stroll past him into his office. The man’s hands really were full with the boxes of pamphlets he had picked up from the printer’s.
“Gee, can’t I have any alone time?” Jay joked as he followed him into the office. “Wow, you’re late and I’m here when I’m not supposed to be. Has the world flipped around?”
Seunghyun chuckled as he sliced open one of the boxes on his desk and peered inside. “Why are you here, boss number two?”
Jay shrugged even though Seunghyun’s nose was still in the box. “I came early to practice some moves for tomorrow. But don’t worry, I hid when the important people came, hence I got stuck in here… Oh, by the way, you’re on tour duty when they’re done fawning over Yunho.”
“Noted.” Seunghyun pushed one of the boxes aside on his desk to free the piece of wood and melamine sticking out from under it at an odd angle. He raised an eyebrow at the board and then grinned.
“Pretty good, right?” Jay smiled from the doorway.
“Our boy does have a certain…wit.”
“Not that the good people at CORE SPORTSneed to know that though,” Jay pointed out as he settled down in front of his laptop in the other room. From his seat he could see Yunho and one of the suits sitting opposite each other and talking while the smartly-dressed lady hovered nearby. Jay could only see the back of the interviewer’s head but Yunho was the one he wanted to watch anyway. The chain link fence distorted a lot of the detail but the way Yunho held himself was unmistakable. He really had that professional-but-still-friendly thing down.
Jay watched them until his laptop’s home screen came to life and he typed Yunho’s name into the Naver search bar. More results came up than he expected and he started clicking through the images. He already knew the man was photogenic; that had very much aggrieved him in the past, but this time Jay wasn’t examining the photos from under a veil of animosity and he felt his mouth drying up a little as he clicked through them.
Yunho looked different on his screen. It wasn’t necessarily in a bad way; he just had a…different aura. Either that or a fuck-load of photoshop. Where the hell had the beauty mark above his lip gone? Jay flicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head.
Somewhere between staring at stars with Yunho at night and tripping him over in the day, Jay had forgotten how different Yunho’s life actually was. He didn’t just have articles in a few magazines, he had sponsors, fans, and he talked to famous people like Ricky Lee-Poynter. Jay had almost had that life, he wasn’t intimidated by it, but his envy had shifted to a feeling he couldn’t name.
Jay looked up and over to the doorway of Seunghyun’s office.
“When you’ve finished doing your shopping thing with Yoochun today, could you come back to help sort out the ball order?”
“Sure,” Jay called over to his friend and business partner and then let out a curse as he stared at the time on his watch. “Shit! I’m late for my emasculation!”
“Go,” Seunghyun’s voice commanded, “and do great things, sweet maiden.”
“Blow me!” Jay shouted back, digging his thumb into the power button on his laptop to force a shut down.
He tried not to stare at Yunho on his way out but his gaze drifted through the chain link fence anyway. It looked like the interview was still going but some of the hipsters were trying to set up their cameras and umbrella flash kits next to them. They wouldn’t need to use any extra lighting today; the sun was so bright. Natural lighting for a naturally good looking man.
Jay ducked around the side of the second court before he lost the battle to shout out something juvenile like, “Save the beauty mark!” Seunghyun would kill him. Yunho would kill him. It would have been really funny though.
Jay grinned to himself as he started making his way up the grassy hill. Goddamn, Jung Yunho had really lit a fire under his ass today, hadn’t he? With his perfect body and his perfect smile… And Jay had to leave it all behind to try on short skirts with Yoochun. Like a goddamn pervert.
Jay pulled his keys from his pocket and tried not to stab himself with them. What if Yoochun made him try on skirts in a girls-only store? Jay would kill him. There was only so much craziness he could take today.
He inhaled sharply as his shoes scraped against some loose bits of asphalt in the car park and he almost slipped into a pothole.
What was life?
*Trade = slang for a masculine or sexually appealing dude.
A/N: Oh lord, I love JJ, I do, but I am going to need a break from swear words for about a month, hah! Will Yoochun’s shopping be much better though? XD
I hope you had fun reading. It was fun writing. XD
And now I leave you with my amazing procrastination artistry! I mean, who needs correct proportions?? Not me! I live on the wild side:
I just had to include that because, gosh, that is practically HQ right there! The toilet door is even next to the office on the left! It’s perfect!
THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO IS HERE READING! <3
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