For my dear friend chichirya, who is always there when I need her. Please never make me write about anyone not-Yixing again. :D
Title: Taken 4 (a fool)
Word Count: 1340
Summary: Junmyeon buys a sex slave. Jongdae is not exactly what he was expecting.
Notes: Fill for writemeasuchen prompt #71.
It’s quite possible that Junmyeon is not appropriately dressed for a rich businessman's slave auction for virgins. To be honest, when the other company shareholders invited him out for a really exciting evening and told him to bring a briefcase filled with cash, he thought they were going night golfing. High-stakes night golfing. He wore his lucky argyle sweater vest.
And the matching socks.
The disappointment was crushing (he ate carrots all week to improve his night vision and what the hell is he going to do with all these glow-in-the-dark balls now??), a feeling that quickly shifted to outright disgust when he found out what kind of “entertainment” was arranged for the night. Seriously, buying sex slaves? What are they, cartoon villains? Should he have spent the last three weeks growing some suitably evil-looking stubble? If Junmyeon wants to see some chick get abused, he’ll watch any popular girl’s anime.
The other guys are all cat-calling and laughing as some poor, possibly drugged-out girl in lingerie stumbles around in front of them (she could also just be really, really bad at walking in heels? Junmyeon is not the expert here, one time wearing heels was more than enough and actually, he'd rather not talk about it at all.) and Junmyeon has never felt more out of place in his life. He’s not sure why the rest of the board thought he’d be down with purchasing a human being as a sex slave? It’s probably that novelty boobs mug his assistant keeps bringing him his coffee in. First thing on Monday, Sehun is fucking fired. Well okay, maybe not fired, because Sehun is a crybaby and Junmyeon feels awkward as hell when a full grown man
A tinny electronic voice from an overhead speaker announces the last auction of the night and Junmyeon sighs with relief. He squirms in his chair uncomfortably and checks his watch. Just one more of these horrible things and he can go home and forget that this incredibly disgusting evening ever happened. He’ll probably never be able to wear this sweater vest again. But there’s still a chance to salvage the evening; if he drives home quickly enough, he’ll be on time to watch his shows before going to sleep! So, not a completely wasted night.
Beyond the one-way mirror, a door opens and the last body up for auction is shoved into the viewing room. It’s a male this time and the novelty of it only increases the jeers and whistles in the room as his acquaintances start daring each other to make a bid. Junmyeon watches the poor soul on the other side take a few hesitant steps. He’s all thin wrists, sharp cheekbones and a
For a moment, the boy looks towards him. Time stops. His eyes are electric and Junmyeon is completely lost. He fingers the remote in his hand, swallowing around a lump in his throat. Okay fuck it, he was hoping to use his night golf winnings to buy a waterslide for his yacht, but he supposes it can wait until next year. He’ll somehow manage to deal with another boring summer of sunbathing in the Mediterranean and using the ladder on his yacht like a damn peasant.
Without giving it any more thought, his fingers press the button; he makes a bid. Before he knows it, the room erupts into vulgar cheers. The other men bump his shoulder and clap him on the back. He’s led out of the chaos by a slick man in an even slicker suit and into another, smaller room down the hall. The room is furnished with a few leather chairs and, uncomfortably, a large bed. In a daze, he is relieved of his cash.
“Excellent, Mr. Kim, I’ll bring you your purchase right away. Please wait here,” he other man says, sliding out of the room, “His name is Jongdae, but you can call him whatever you’d like.”
Junmyeon collapses into a chair, unsure how he’s supposed to feel now. He has literally just bought another person, and although he has no thoughts of using him as intended (oh god that mouth though…. maybe he has a couple thoughts of using him as intended, but he will definitely not act on them!!), he feels slimy just having been a part of the whole process. The door opens again and the boy Junmyeon bid on, Jongdae, enters with a cocky grin on his face. Junmyeon stands up quickly, knocking the chair across the floor in his haste. Jongdae looks at him with one eyebrow raised as he finishes buttoning up his slim-cut white shirt.
“Should I even bother?” he asks, fingers lingering on the last button in a way that can somehow only be described as obscene.
Junmyeon swallows. “It’s chilly tonight. You might even need a sweater? I think I have another of these vests in the Bentley.”
The other man’s grin turns predatory as he stalks over to Junmyeon and wraps himself around him.
“I can think of another way to warm ourselves up,” he whispers in Junmyeon’s ear, “But if you’re really insistent on going out to your car, I’m sure I can make something work there, too.” His voice drops, “I’m flexible.”
“Um, no, this is really not necessary,” Junmyeon says, struggling to untangle himself from Jongdae’s wandering hands that seem to be everywhere. Is he half-octopus or does he have a third hand? Which of those options would he prefer?? “I release you?”
Jongdae’s hands still and he takes a step back from Junmyeon. “What?”
“You’re free to go?” Junmyeon says, making some kind of flying bird motion with his hands in a feeble attempt to get his point across. He wishes there was some kind of manual for this situation. How To Free Your Unwanted Servant and Other Uncomfortable Circumstances. Junmyeon would buy two copies.
Jongdae’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head at Junmyeon. “I don’t think so, dude.”
Junmyeon stares back at him, perplexed. Are propositions the only English Jongdae understands? God, he really should have paid more attention to the details from the auctioneer instead of being so distracted by all the pretty. “Excuse me?”
“I said, I don’t think so,” Jongdae says, poking an angry finger into Junmyeon’s chest, “That’s not how this works. I was promised a rich sugar daddy and yeah, sure, I thought I was going to have to debase myself for some fat, hairy guy with a foot fetish because damn, I’ve got nice toes, but now I see that isn’t the case and my new meal ticket is a hot guy in Steve Urkel’s wardrobe and you are not going to take this away from me!”
“I, um....” Junmyeon has no idea what to say to that. His cheeks heat up from the compliment and a tug of curiosity pulls his eyes down to Jongdae’s feet. Damn it, closed-toe shoes. Seeing Junmyeon’s traveling gaze, Jongdae throws him a saucy wink that causes Junmyeon to blush three shades darker. What the hell did he just buy? “Are you even a virgin?”
“...I used to be,” Jongdae says with a smirk. And damn it, Junmyeon is not supposed to be falling for his sex slave, but honestly, if Jongdae is willing and if he is willing (so very, very willing)…. really, what’s the harm? And who knows, maybe they might have things in common?
“Do you like night golfing?” Junmyeon asks, giving up on actually watching his anime tonight. The smouldering look Jongdae gives him in return kind of makes up for it.
“I like night-time activities that involve balls and sinking things into holes.”
Junmyeon grins. Maybe this night isn’t so horrible after all.
Title: Grass, Gas or Sass
Word Count: 987
Summary: Junmyeon accidentally picks up a hitchhiker.
Notes: Fill for writemeasuchen prompt #68.
Junmyeon does not intend to pick up a hitchhiker. Two hours into a seven hour road trip, he gets fed up with pretending to enjoy a lengthy audiobook and pulls over on the side of the highway to search for his Spiceworld soundtrack. One hundred and twenty long, long minutes of the Moby Dick audiobook was more than enough. The ocean is boring as shit, he gets it, Herman Melville. We all fucking get it. Half-splayed over the center console, Junmyeon is digging around in the mess of fast food wrappers and old, unopened mail on the floor under the passenger seat when the side door swings open and a backpack is tossed in the backseat.
“Thanks for stopping,” a stranger says as he drops into the passenger seat and grins at Junmyeon like they’re already best friends and sharing an inside joke, “I’ve been trying to hitch a ride all morning. I thought I might have to up my sex appeal by taking off my shirt or something.”
Junmyeon sits back up slowly, his hands stuck in awkward lobster claws that he can’t seem to make go away. This is a lot of information to process very quickly. Inside his head, he composes a list to help him comprehend his current situation.
- He just picked up a hitchhiker.
- Statistically speaking, 97% of hitchhikers are murderers.
- He’s probably going to get murdered by this tiny stranger.
- It’s a shame he’s a murderer, because the hitchhiker is really cute?
- He should have waited for his shirt to come off??
- Does this mean he can’t listen to the sweet girl power jams of the Spiceworld soundtrack anymore?
“I’m Jongdae, by the way,” the stranger says, reaching out to hold one of Junmyeon’s frozen mitten-shaped hands in his own. He shakes it carefully, a grin curling up the corners of his mouth prettily. His skin is soft, like a girl’s, and he smells like sweet almond oil, things that Junmyeon is only noticing and carefully filing away into his memories in case he later has to describe Jongdae to the police after he narrowly escapes a brutal, sexually-charged homicide. Also he looks like a kitty.
“Junmyeon,” he responds back stiffly. No matter how cute Jongdae is (so, so, so cute), he needs to get the fuck out of Junmyeon’s car. Junmyeon has a long drive ahead of him and no time to get murdered. Not today. If only Tao were here, he would know what to do. After a scary encounter with a gang of ten year old street toughs, Junmyeon had tried to learn martial arts from Tao, but following one measly lesson where Tao maybe possibly accidentally got nunchucked in the balls, Tao gave up on him and gifted him with a taser instead.
A taser that is very conveniently located inside the glove box.
Across the center console, Jongdae smiles at him, but his charismatic grin does nothing to Junmyeon. Nothing! He definitely doesn’t feel a little light-headed or like his heart is beating too fast and might pop out of his chest and do a little dance. He is not a swooning woman in a corset in a historical fiction novel; he is a modern man wearing a men’s slimming brief and he will not play victim to a charming stranger who is no doubt seconds away from reaching back into his bag to pull out a hatchet or a blood-stained hammer or like, a really sharp spoon? As if he could read Junmyeon’s thoughts (hopefully not the ones about his sex-mouth), Jongdae stretches into the backseat.
“Hey how do you feel about-”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Junmyeon screams, springing into action.
Jongdae barely has time to turn around before Junmyeon is armed with the taser and firing off a shot. One second for a shock, five seconds to stun and seventeen seconds to have a cute stranger collapse in a full body seize in the passenger seat with a Spice Girls Greatest Hits cd laying in his lap. Junmyeon eases his finger off the trigger.
Was Jongdae planning on murdering him with Geri’s shrill voice or had Junmyeon possibly misjudged the situation? It wouldn’t be the first time (sorry, Tao’s balls!). He snags Jongdae’s backpack and pulls it open, not sure if he’s hoping there really is a weapon inside or not.
There isn’t. Jongdae’s bag contains three pairs of underwear, a ukulele and an impressive collection of 90’s pop cds. Way more than anyone should be carrying with them at any given time, especially considering the popularity of digital music in this day and age.
“What was that for??” Jongdae cries, moaning in pain.
“Um, oops?” Junmyeon says, “I thought you were trying to kill me?”
“Oh my god, fuck you,” Jongdae says, twitching on the seat, “I was going to let you be Sporty Spice when we sang along to all the Spice Girls songs, but now you have to be Posh and Baby. I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself, asshole.”
Junmyeon wisely does not mention that Posh is his favorite anyway. Jongdae struggles to sit up and buckle his seatbelt.
“And you’re buying me lunch. With pie.”
To be honest, Junmyeon is not sure if he is relieved or not that Jongdae stays in the car. On one hand, this is incredibly, painfully awkward. On the other hand, he does feel like he at least owes Jongdae a meal after tasering him for far longer than was actually required. And the contents of Jongdae's bag have almost definitely confirmed him as a non-murderer. Plus, having a sing-along buddy sounds pretty awesome? All things considered, picking up a hitchhiker is not working out too badly for him. He reaches down and ejects the Moby Dick audiobook from the cd player, throwing it out his window. Shifting the car into gear, he smiles at Jongdae.
“I can live with that,” Junmyeon says, stepping on the gas.
Word Count: 720
Summary: Junmyeon is horrified to discover Jongdae’s porn collection.
Notes: Fill for writemeasuchen prompt #16.
It was a mistake to allow Junmyeon into his apartment. Jongdae knows that now. It’s not because of his mess (Junmyeon is at least three times messier than him and would probably happily live in an old dumpster if it had room for his Ironman figures and One Piece manga collection) or his eclectic decorating taste (lava lamps are going to come back into style one day!) or even the pile of childish stuffed toys on his bed. No, the reason Junmyeon should have never been allowed inside the apartment is because of the porn.
Jongdae wouldn’t call his porn a problem, he thinks of it more as a healthy lifestyle choice. Think of all the STDs he’s successfully avoided by staying home and rubbing one out to some magazine spreads of couple sluts get pounded instead of going out and actually experiencing it himself! And how is he even supposed to sleep at night without watching a couple porn clips on his phone and getting fucking nasty with himself before bed? Porn has improved his life; It’s just science.
But Junmyeon… Junmyeon is special. The face of an angel, the abs of an underwear model and the cute butt of a young dad who still thinks he has time to get to the gym a couple days a week. He’s perfect. Jongdae couldn’t keep him out of his apartment forever, he was just hoping maybe it would take him awhile longer to find some of Jongdae’s... collections.
They’re making out hot and heavy on Jongdae’s couch when Junmyeon tugs himself away from him.
“What’s this?” he says, pulling a pile of polaroids out from under the couch cushion, “Ewww, are these naked pictures of Yixing from our Thursday night bible study? What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do this to him?”
“Dude, Yixing gives me those. He takes new ones every week. He’s fucking sick. You’ve got to see this one with the octopus…” Jongdae says, rifling through the stack.
“No, I really don’t need to see it,” Junmyeon says, frowning, “I think you should get off me.”
Jongdae climbs off Junmyeon’s lap and sets the polaroids down on the coffee table. “So… no more making out tonight?”
“Let’s just watch a movie or something,” Junmyeon says, his frown deepening. He gets up off the couch and heads over to Jongdae’s dvd shelves. Jongdae follows behind sadly, mourning the loss of Junmyeon’s dick pressed against him. Damn it, Yixing! Jongdae would be really mad at him, if he didn't get off on Yixing’s weird polaroids so often. He could never stay mad at him for long…
“What the hell?!” Junmyeon shouts, a disgusted expression on his pretty face as he browses Jongdae's movie collection, “What is this VHS taped labeled that time Baekhyun and Kyungsoo got drunk and hate-fucked?? Are you kidding me? Why would you watch this?? Do you even have a VCR??”
“Um… only for porn?” Jongdae says, guilty. His face flames.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” Junmyeon says, shaking his head and sinking down onto the couch. He lets out a heavy sigh and Jongdae shrinks in shame, wondering if it’s possible to feel any smaller than he feels right now. Fuck, maybe his porn really is a problem. Maybe he needs help. Maybe he needs to clean his life up.
“I can’t fucking believe you get off on this amateur bullshit,” Junmyeon continues, pulling his laptop out of his bag, “You are wasting your goddamn time on that grainy, out of focus crap! You come over here and watch some of the porn that I have. This is real porn. It’s so high def, you can count all the acne on their asscheeks.”
He pats the seat on the couch next to him and looks at Jongdae expectantly. Jongdae gapes. Fuck, Jongdae knew Junmyeon was a keeper! He bounds over to the couch and snuggles up close to Junmyeon as he begins opening files on his laptop.
“Hey, but I can still keep accepting those polaroids from Yixing, right? Those are pretty special…”
The look Junmyeon gives him is tender. “Maybe if we gift him with a nicer camera? And a couple lighting kits? I think we can make it work…”
Jongdae grins. He was absolutely right about him; Junmyeon is fucking perfect.