DBSK, Step By Step (The Slo-Mo Remix)

Title: Step By Step (The Slo-Mo Remix) [Yunho/Junsu]
Rating/Warnings: R because elastic = Yunho’s friend.
Summary: Junsu thinks this dance is terrible, and Yunho takes matters into his own hands.
AN: Okay, so, finally finished something. Hooray! For ranalore, who writes cuteomgputhiminmypocket Junsu. And also for swtjemz who came up with this prompt in the first place.

Step By Step (The Slow-Mo Remix)

“This is impossible,” Junsu snapped on their seventeenth try, “and it’s stupid to boot.”

“You’re stupid,” Yunho retorted, stopping his own dance to bump shoulders with Junsu, trying to tease him out of his mood. “It’s the same dance we’ve done thirty thousand times! It’s just slower!”

“It’s a fast song!” Junsu protested, letting all his frustration finally pour out as his voice raised enough to echo off the studio mirrors, drowning out the cd Yunho had on loop for practice. “Fast songs get fast dances, not slow ones! And what the hell is up with this ‘Slo-Mo Remix’ crap anyway? What’s next, fast dances to slow songs? Who do they think we are, w-inds.?!”

Yunho let Junsu carry on until he was out of breath, Junsu’s arms crossed and scowl fierce. Then he reached over and carefully drew Junsu into a hug, movements slow like he was afraid Junsu might spook.

“You shouldn’t strain your voice like that,” he admonished Junsu gently, resting his hand in between Junsu’s shoulder blades and feeling the tension that was trembling over Junsu’s skin. “It takes enough abuse.”

Junsu submitted to the hugging by degrees, shoulders still stiff but hands coming up to rest on Yunho’s hips. “Everyone else re-learned it right away. Why can’t I do it?”

“Slow never really was your thing,” Yunho reminded him, smoothing his fingers over the bumps of Junsu’s spine, and just like that Junsu went limp against Yunho all at once, seeking comfort. “Feel better?”

“I don’t feel better at all,” he mumbled into Yunho’s shoulder, hands starting to creep back and down. “But you feel pretty good.”

“Ah, I’m flattered!” Yunho chuckled and pushed Junsu gently back a half-step by the shoulders. “But stop trying to distract me.”

Caught red-handed, Junsu heaved a sigh. It turned into a huff of surprise when Yunho used his grip on Junsu’s shoulder to spin him around suddenly, and then Yunho curled right back up along Junsu’s back like magnets pulling together.

“I’ll help,” Yunho offered, breath warm over Junsu’s ear, sliding his hands down Junsu’s arms and down the backs of his hands to curl their fingers together. “Just start from the beginning.”

“This is not anything like helping,” Junsu groaned, but he let Yunho do what he wanted, moving them through the steps.

“It’s not?” Yunho asked, voice all innocence. “But you just did it perfectly! Do it again.”

“I’m not going to remember any of this!” Junsu protested, but he was laughing, back shifting against Yunho’s chest. Yunho tightened his grip so that Junsu couldn’t turn around.

“Since we’ve already established that you’re retarded,” Yunho pressed one sharp canine against the tendon of Junsu’s neck, just enough for him to feel it, and Junsu drew a sharp breath, “maybe your body will remember it instead. You know, I’ve always felt,” Yunho continued, keeping his tone even despite Junsu’s soft whimper, “that body memory was your strong suit.”

“I’m telling Jaejoong on you,” Junsu threatened, voice thready, and then Yunho gave a roll of his hips that had absolutely nothing to do with the Slo-Mo Remix of anything.

“You just go right ahead and do that,” Yunho purred, smirking at the goosebumps that was rising over Junsu’s arms where they were pressed against Yunho’s. “He does like getting all the details. And look at that, you’ve done it perfectly again. Want to go again? Third time’s the charm.”

Yunho got Junsu started without waiting for an answer, then let go and stepped back, ordering, “Don’t stop,” when Junsu faltered and glanced over his shoulder. “You know it, keep going.”

So Junsu did, and even though Yunho could see in the mirrored wall that Junsu had his eyes shut and his teeth sunk into his lower lip, something in Junsu seemed to have finally clicked, and he finished the routine smoothly and exactly right.

Except for that extra hip roll. Yunho frowned. Oops.

“What?” Junsu asked, catching Yunho’s frown in the mirror and turning around. “No good?”

“Very good,” Yunho smoothed the frown away and gave Junsu a smile instead, taking the two steps to get his hands on Junsu’s waist and pull him close. He rolled their hips together, making Junsu catch his breath. “Just a little too much of this.”

“That’s what I get for having you as a teacher,” Junsu sighed long-sufferingly, bringing his arms up to circle Yunho’s neck.

“Say thank you, brat,” Yunho admonished. Their bodies were already moving together in time with the cd that was still playing. Yunho’s comment about body memory hadn’t been completely in jest, and they weren’t professional dancers for nothing. It wasn’t the practice routine, or any routine in particular, just them, moving together in their own rhythm, unconscious and familiar.

“Thank you, leader-sshi,” Junsu said, voice sing-song and tilting his head childishly to the side. Yunho answered, “Tcht,” and looked away because Junsu knew exactly what he was doing with that face. “So can we still tell Jaejoong about this?”

“Not much to tell yet,” Yunho shrugged, then grinned at Junsu’s face when his rear bumped into the barre, apparently having not noticed their drift towards the wall. “But I was thinking about changing that.”

“Don’t pretend this isn’t about your mirror fetish, Yunnie,” Junsu said after glancing left and right at their surroundings with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t be silly,” Yunho murmured, slipping a hand up Junsu’s t-shirt and drawing a line down his spine with his right hand that made Junsu shiver. “I’m looking only at you.” He caught Junsu’s gaze with his own, then flicked his eyes away to the right. “And you.” And then flicked them to the left. “And you.”

“Yunho!” Junsu protested, laughing even when Yunho slid down to his knees suddenly and made Junsu’s breath catch. “Well, that’s all right,” Junsu informed Yunho as he wrapped his hands around the barre for support and focusing his attention across the room at the opposite bank of mirrors, “because I’ve got a fantastic view of your ass.”

“Look all you want,” Yunho said, pushing Junsu’s T-shirt out of the way to nuzzle at the skin just to the left of Junsu’s navel and sliding his hands over Junsu’s own curves to prove that seeing wasn’t everything. Junsu’s skin was hot from practice, and Yunho tasted salt when he turned his head enough to press his lips where his cheek had been.

“You know, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Junsu said, getting his hands in Yunho’s hair and tugging his face up just as things were about to get serious. “But could we possibly take this song off loop? Because if I hear it one more time, there’s going to be some passion of the sort you don’t want.”

Yunho turned his head to the right, where the cd player was sitting just barely out of reach, then turned back to Junsu with a barely audible growl.

“Please?” Junsu gave Yunho the big eyes and scratched his scalp in just the right way, and Yunho rolled his eyes and climbed to his feet, grunting as his knee cracked after digging into the floor.

He was just bending down to click the button when something sweaty and heavy slammed into him from the side, knocking them both into a sprawl across a pile of yoga mats nearby.

“Much more comfortable. Besides,” Junsu said, reaching over to casually yank the cd-player’s plug out of the wall and tossing it aside, “Jaejoong would kill me if he found out I had you kneeling on that hard wood floor.”

“You know, if it’s comfortable you want, we do have beds at home,” Yunho pointed out, not exactly resisting as Junsu pulled them closer together and tangled his limbs all up with Yunho’s.

“Then I’d probably have to share,” Junsu’s voice wavered as Yunho gave the hollow of his throat a slow lick. “And I wouldn’t get to thank you properly.”

“Is that so,” Yunho mumbled without really paying attention to what he was saying. Junsu was the talker, kept talking as Yunho shoved up his shirt and kissed the nearest nipple, until Yunho bit down and made his voice break.

“Careful, I need those,” Junsu protested, not really protesting at all, his whole body curling towards Yunho and his hands tugging at Yunho’s hair and neck and shoulders, and Yunho didn’t point out that the only thing Junsu really did use them for was this. He was hard, achingly so, and Junsu was the same, pressed tight against Yunho’s stomach and rocking just a little, looking for friction.

Workout clothes are the best, Yunho thought to himself, using the hand that wasn’t teasing the small of Junsu’s back to tug both of their sweatpants out of the way, the elastic stretching easily to free both of their erections.

He could have wrapped his hand around both of them, and he did palm Junsu’s cock for a few seconds, rolling his fingers over the heat and the weight of it, then he pushed himself up instead, mouth crushing over Junsu’s and both hands against Junsu’s back to shove their hips together.

Junsu groaned at the first slide of their cocks against each other, got into the rhythm easily because it was just about as old as their friendship, quick and hard and messy because it was all they’d had the energy or the finesse for after sixteen-hour practice days.

Yunho rolled them so that he settled on top, bearing down while Junsu rocked up, his knees digging into the mats on either side of Junsu’s thighs, and Junsu brought his hands up to hold on, fingers sinking into Yunho’s hips.

And apparently he was remembering too, because he broke the kiss to pant, “We never change, do we?” and they both laughed, foreheads pressed together and sweat dripping into their eyes.

But they had changed a little, or at least learned some new things, because when Yunho opened his eyes he found Junsu’s gaze focused to the side, and knew that if he turned his head he’d see both of them in the mirror, their reflections tangled together and in perfect rhythm.

He didn’t need to see it, though; it was more than enough to see that Junsu saw it, to see the flush over his cheeks and the hitch of his chest, and Yunho still saw it when he squeezed his eyes shut and came against Junsu’s cock, fingers curling against the mats on either side of Junsu’s head.

“There we go,” Junsu said, yanking Yunho as close as possible and thrusting into the sudden slickness, and Yunho couldn’t get his eyes open in time to watch, but he felt Junsu’s shudder all along his skin, and that was more than good enough.

Yunho slumped into a cuddle against Junsu’s chest, forehead pressed against his neck and taking open-mouthed gulps of air. Junsu was limp and warm underneath him for a bit, and then he felt movement and heard Junsu’s hand flopping weakly against the mats.

“Our towels are over there,” Junsu reported plaintively. “We always forget about the towels. We really don’t ever change. Ah, well, at least we got cuter.”

“Mm-hmm,” Yunho agreed, turning his head to see them in the mirror, sweaty and hopelessly tangled with their pants around their thighs, and met Junsu’s bright grin with one of his own.

At least until he caught the reflection of the clock, the reverse position of the hands taking a second to flip itself in his head. “Oh fuck. Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got a story for Jaejoong, because he’s going to kill us.”

“Ah, then I should have let you kneel anyway,” Junsu said sadly, then rolled away, scattering yoga mats in all directions and laughing before Yunho’s tickling fingers had even touched him.

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