Inspired by the costuming for the Dream Concert 2007. No, I don't think it happened like this, these things are too minutely planned. Still, it's fun to speculate, and you must admit their outfits were...surprising. Betaed by Eliza, and written for Cait. Because I'm sneaky like that.

"I dare you," Jaejoong breathes against his mouth in the deserted backstage restroom. They've slipped in there for a few minutes of privacy, but Jaejoong brought the hairspray and Yunho should have known something was up then.

"Boo, give me my shirt." Jaejoong is wearing Yunho's shirt, black and white stripes hanging on Jaejoong's body, obscuring the weight he's lost. In his hands is his own shirt, tight and black, with a wedge sliced out of the front of the right shoulder.

"I dare you, leader-sshi," Jaejoong says again, and his voice is so smoky-soft, his knuckles brushing Yunho's stomach so warm, that Yunho knows he's going to succumb, no matter the hell management will give them for it.

"Jaejoong," he says, thinking to make another protest, for form's sake, only there are no other words after that name, and Jaejoong smiles with his eyes, and raises the shirt.

It goes snug over Yunho's head, and Jaejoong's careful to hold it so it doesn't brush off makeup, but there's no way to save Yunho's meticulously styled hair. Which is, of course, why Jaejoong brought the hairspray.

Yunho lowers his arms, rearranges the pendants layered around his neck while Jaejoong starts redoing his hair. He can see flashes of himself in the mirror at Jaejoong's back, and Jaejoong hasn't lost so much weight that the shirt's too tight. Just...close-fitting. Especially in contrast to what he's supposed to be wearing.

"Management's going to kill us," he says. Jaejoong shrugs, not even pausing in teasing out locks of hair and spraying them into place.

"Not when they see how much the fans love it. They don't show you off enough, Yunnie-ah." Now Jaejoong stops, and looks him in the eye, heavy-lidded and smug. "You're so hot, Yunho. I want them to see, and know they can't have you."

"Is that what this is about?"

Jaejoong shrugs, which could be yes or no or completely unrelated to the question. "You'll be cooler in that while dancing."

"It's solid black, Boo."

Jaejoong's teeth flash white under the flourescents. "Less coverage."

"Time, hy--whoa." Changmin strides in through the door, then stops, staring. Jaejoong slides out from between the counter and Yunho, his palm grazing the bare strip of flesh between the bottom of the shirt and Yunho's pants.

"Showtime, is it?" he says as he saunters toward Changmin, who's still staring. At Yunho. Jaejoong casts a glance back over his shoulder, and Yunho thinks the combined heat of both pairs of eyes on him might just prove combustible. "We don't want to be late, leader-sshi."

"You're really going out like that?" Changmin asks, and Yunho raises his chin.

"Is that a problem?"

Changmin's eyes go half-lidded, and he oozes across the room in a way he has to have picked up from Junsu. When he's less than a handspan away from Yunho, he stops and gives Yunho a long once-over. "Yes. I don't know how any of us are supposed to concentrate when you look like that."

"Then it's a good thing you have all the dances memorized, isn't it, dongsaeng?"

There's the sound of Jaejoong stifling his laughter behind his hand, but Yunho's caught by the spark in Changmin's eyes. Changmin leans forward, just a little, and Yunho says, "Didn't you come in here to tell us it was time? We can't be late."

"Fuck late," Changmin says, another habit he's picked up from Junsu, and kisses Yunho like he plans to spend the whole night doing it. Yunho can't say he has any objections. Changmin's mouth is soft and his grip is hard, and he grazes Yunho's bottom lip with his teeth in just the right way.

Which is why it's probably just as well Junsu comes in a few seconds later. "Showtime, no ex--fuck."

"You really need to stop that," Jaejoong says mildly, and possibly Junsu misunderstands, because he's pushing his hands between Yunho and Changmin and prying them apart.

"While I understand the urge on both your parts, now is not the time. We're wanted onstage. Jaejoong, grab Changmin and get him out there, and do not get distracted."

"You just want to grope Yunho on the way out."

"Damn straight. You realize management will kill you."

Jaejoong takes Changmin by the arm and grins at Junsu. "Tell me it's not worth it."

"I'm telling you you should do it more often, except next time, rip Yunho's shirt up. You're all...covered."

"Now who's getting distracted?" Yunho says, finding his voice again at last. He's unsurprised to feel Junsu's hand at his ass, but after only one squeeze, Junsu moves the touch up and under the back of Yunho's shirt, pulling it even tauter across Yunho's chest. "Hey, I still need to breathe, here."

"I bet Yoochun will stop breathing when he sees you."

Yunho wraps an arm around Junsu's back, getting in his own grope while he's at it. Jaejoong grins at him again, pulling Changmin out the door. "How about we go find out? Dong Bang Shin Ki hwaiting."

Junsu leans into his side and whispers against his ear, "Yunho hwaiting."

Showtime.

~END~