by Rana Eros
For the occasion of Yunho's birthday, based on Yunho's gift of an apron to Jaejoong for Jaejoong's birthday (as shown in "King's Brunch"). Betaed by Eliza.
Yunho wakes up in urgent need of the bathroom. He doesn't even have to look at his alarm clock to know he'd just gotten to sleep, and he swallows a groan at the reluctance of his limbs to move. His bladder is insistent; it's what happens when he drinks with a late dinner.
He drags himself out of bed as quietly as he can, trying hard not to wake Junsu or Changmin, not least so he doesn't have competition for the toilet. He makes it to the door without either of them stirring, then slips out into the hallway.
The smell of cooking oil hits him, and he looks down the hallway toward the kitchen to see the faint glow the overhead light makes around the corner. He can guess who's up, and he's curious as to why, but he decides to attend to business before interrogating Jaejoong. It can be a lengthy process, especially when Jaejoong is cooking while you try to do it.
Bladder seen to, Yunho pads gingerly down the chilled floor toward the kitchen. It occurs to him Yoochun might be up as well, he and Jaejoong in silent communion over a midnight snack. When Yunho peeks his head around the corner, though, he only spies Jaejoong, breaking an egg into a shallow pan.
He dares to move closer, close enough to see over the breakfast bar and spy the apron he gave Jaejoong at dinner. It makes him smile, and Jaejoong looks up in time to catch it, returning it a thousandfold.
Not really, after the dinner they'd had, but he delays answering with a return question. "What are you making?"
Jaejoong shrugs, adding some chopped vegetables to the pan and stirring the whole concoction around. "I think it's an omelette."
He says "omelette" carefully, the way they heard it in Paris. Yunho remembers Jaejoong making eggs in Paris, the morning sun shining through floor-to-ceiling windows on his brilliant hair. "Need some help?"
"No." Jaejoong smiles again, glancing at him sidelong. "Company would be nice, though."
Yunho hoists himself onto the breakfast bar, stretching across it so his head is level with Jaejoong's elbow, looking at Jaejoong upside-down. From this vantage, he sees the bags under Jaejoong's eyes more clearly, and manages to say conversationally, "You know, the apron wasn't actually a suggestion that you cook for us again immediately."
"I'm not cooking for 'us.'" Jaejoong matches his tone, looking away to flip his creation. "I'm cooking for you. Well, and me."
"That's an 'us.' You just took it on faith I'd wake up?"
"Not faith so much as experience." Jaejoong's half-smile is just as irresistible from this angle. "We had a late dinner, and there was alcohol involved."
"True." Yunho cocks his head against the counter. "Doesn't seem to have affected you."
Jaejoong quirks an eyebrow. "I'm trying to make a foreign dish at," he glances away to check the clock on the microwave, "slightly past midnight. I won't swear drinking had nothing to do with it."
"Mmm," Yunho says, by way of agreement. He watches Jaejoong cook for a moment longer, then asks, "Think there'll be enough if the other three interrupt?"
"Yoochun already told me he'll get out of bed when we drag him out in the morning." Jaejoong's smile widens. "Changmin and Junsu might join us, but I figured, after tonight's dinner, you wouldn't mind sharing."
"You caught me. I'll be lucky to manage any of it." Even as he says it, though, Yunho closes his eyes and inhales, smelling oil, eggs, vegetables, spices, and Jaejoong. If he's honest, it's the last that makes his mouth water, but he'll eat Jaejoong's omelette just to see Jaejoong smile some more. "If they don't wake up, we could always save some for breakfast."
Jaejoong bends down to give Yunho a kiss, flavored with a dinner Jaejoong didn't cook, and this is exactly why he's risking his back in this position, Jaejoong's mouth and Jaejoong's attention and Jaejoong cooking for him, even though neither of them are hungry. Jaejoong starts to pull away, and Yunho reaches up a hand to tangle in Jaejoong's hair, holding him there for a longer taste, a longer touch.
"It's going to burn," Jaejoong says against his mouth.
"So?" he says, licking at Jaejoong's lips. That makes Jaejoong laugh, though softly.
"So, if you want Changmin and Junsu to join us--"
Yunho only lets go after another quick nip, rolling over as Jaejoong turns off the stove and gets a plate down to scoop his omelette onto. It looks a bit crisped around the edges, and Yunho's pretty sure the mixing of ingredients is supposed to happen before they go into the pan, but he takes the chopsticks Jaejoong hands him and comes up onto his elbows to eat.
Jaejoong breaks off a small piece of egg with his own chopsticks, then holds it out to Yunho. Yunho takes it in his mouth, chewing as he reaches up to break off his own piece and feed it to Jaejoong. It's a bit spicy, and only years of Jaejoong's cooking keep him from coughing as he adjusts to the bite. Under the bite, the egg's on the tough side, and the vegetables seem oddly chosen. Probably, Yunho thinks fondly, for the compatibility of their colors rather than flavors.
Jaejoong looks thoughtful as he eats, humming a little.
"I didn't want to make exactly what we had in Paris," he says at length, "but this is really nothing like it, is it?"
Yunho snorts laughter at the statement, glad he already swallowed. Jaejoong smiles again. Yunho rewards that smile by saying loyally, "It's better than Paris."
"Either Changmin's right and you have no taste buds," Jaejoong answers, still smiling as he sets the plate in the sink, "or you're a terrible liar. I'm not sure even death sauce could save this."
"It does seem to need something," Yunho agrees, amiably. He makes a show of considering, then sets his chopsticks on the counter and crooks a finger at Jaejoong. "C'mere."
Jaejoong's smile widens, and he steps back as far as the small kitchen allows. "You come here."
It's more awkward getting off the counter than on it, and by the time Yunho's twisted himself around and got his feet on the ground, Jaejoong's pressed the hand still holding chopsticks to his own mouth to stifle laughter that would no doubt wake the whole house if it got out. Yunho risks it, moving close enough to pry at that hand. He has to kiss Jaejoong's cheek, move his mouth down toward Jaejoong's, before Jaejoong allows the hand to fall away, and then Yunho's tasting laughter again.
Yeah. That's exactly what the dish needed.
"Sofa?" he suggests, once that laughter has calmed and they both need to breathe.
Jaejoong looks at him with bright eyes, then draws his hands down and around to help untie the apron. "Sofa's good, since nobody else is awake."
"That's too bad," Yunho says, tugging at strings as he kisses Jaejoong's jaw, "because this is a really good midnight snack."
"It is," Jaejoong agrees, turning his head to nip at Yunho's ear. "Of course, they've had it before."
"Some things taste better when they're familiar." Yunho gets the apron open, and Jaejoong cups his face to kiss him deeply again.
"Some things taste better when they're you," Jaejoong whispers, and Yunho thinks those words are all the sweeter for applying to three other people. Four, if you count Jaejoong himself, which Yunho most emphatically does.
"Sofa," he murmurs, backing Jaejoong up, through the archway out of the kitchen, past the dining room and toward the darkened living room, the sofa not much more than a blacker shape in the darkness. It occurs to him to worry Changmin and Junsu might have left game controllers on the cushions to ambush the unwary, but then he remembers Yoochun made a circuit of the room before they left for their "date." So it's perfectly safe to back Jaejoong up around the arm, to kiss him and go down with him, pushing him into the cushions along the sofa's back.
"You're going to fall off," Jaejoong protests, breaking away long enough to grab Yunho by the arm and tug, trying to rearrange them. Yunho has his own ideas about a good arrangement, though, so he rolls until Jaejoong's halfway on top of him, holding him in place while allowing him room to move.
"There. Now we're both secure."
Jaejoong leans into him, slipping a hand under the hem of the tee-shirt he sleeps in. "That's why you're leader-sshi, always taking care of these things."
"Always trying to take care of you," he says against Jaejoong's throat, spreading his fingers against Jaejoong's back, feeling the warmth of skin through cloth, tracing the contours of Jaejoong's spine.
"You do a good job." Jaejoong pushes Yunho's shirt up to reach the waistband of his sweatpants. It's not really fair, Yunho thinks, that he's dressed for bed and Jaejoong's still in jeans; it means he has to take extra steps to reach skin, and it's hard to coordinate when Jaejoong's lips are pressed to his temple, following his hairline. Then again, extra steps are his specialty, and it's not like Jaejoong isn't always a distraction, glowing in the spotlight beside him.
There's no spotlight here, but there are steps to take with Jaejoong glowing to his touch. He focuses, provides his own distraction with mouth and tongue working up toward Jaejoong's ear, brings his hand around to start undoing Jaejoong's jeans and bites Jaejoong's earlobe none too gently. Jaejoong shudders, fingers pressed against Yunho's stomach as he gasps. Yunho uses the pause to his advantage, getting Jaejoong's jeans open, then reaching inside Jaejoong's boxers before Jaejoong can recover enough to retaliate, brushing his fingertips over hot, taut skin.
"Fuck!" Jaejoong pushes into his hand, nimble fingers scrambling at his boxers, getting inside and-- Yunho hisses at Jaejoong's grip, strong and warm and perfect, just perfect. He squeezes his own hand in appreciation, and Jaejoong growls, twists to catch his mouth and say, "Yunho. Move."
He obeys, he always obeys when Jaejoong uses that voice, when Jaejoong kisses him like this and pumps him like this and thrusts into his hand, Jaejoong's unique grace feeding a rhythm Yunho's learned better than their oldest routines, a rhythm deep as bone, deep as his heart. He follows it, through Jaejoong's heat and Jaejoong's light, all the way down to the white core where rhythm becomes stillness. Always, he feels his heart split open at that moment, to catch Jaejoong, shaking apart in his arms, to hold the others dreaming in their beds, to keep them all with him.
"I can hear you thinking sappy thoughts," Jaejoong whispers, slumping down against him, hand still cupping him carefully.
"Oh?" Yunho smiles in the dark, pressing a kiss high on Jaejoong's cheekbone. "And what are you thinking?"
"That we're going to be very sticky and very sorry if we stay here like this."
"Okay." Jaejoong makes no move to get up, and that just makes Yunho smile harder. He's not going to push. There are worse things than sticky, and not many things better than drowsing with Jaejoong in his arms. "Happy birthday, Joongie-ah."
"This is a good present." Jaejoong turns his head for another kiss, says against Yunho's mouth, "I'll cook for your birthday. What do you want?"
"Omelettes," Yunho says promptly, and has to kiss Jaejoong again to keep him from laughing so hard he wakes the whole house.
"I'll see if I can't improve the recipe. Maybe add an ingredient or three."
"It doesn't need improving, but a variation might be good. Maybe you could even let me help."
"You'll need an apron." Jaejoong shifts a little, and this close Yunho can see him making a face. "Not that it really helps prevent a mess."
"I'm okay with messes." Yunho grins. "Some dishes are worth it."
When Jaejoong settles back into him and kisses him again, he decides to take it as agreement.