DBSK, The Rule of 72

Title: The Rule of 72 [Yoochun/DBSK]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: The problem with compound interest is that the resulting obligation can be difficult to interpret.
AN: Thanks to swtjemz for flailing with me and marksykins for going above and beyond her usual fandoms. Happy holidays, Eliza! I hope this brings you even a fraction of the joy I’ve gotten from your fics. For the 2007 Nuna Holiday Exchange.

The Rule of 72

“I do so have interests besides music!” Yoochun protested over breakfast, feeling rather wronged that he was being ganged up on when it was too early to defend himself properly.

“He’s interested in me!” Junsu put in, grinning at them over his tea.

“That’s not different at all,” Changmin said without looking up from the newspaper. “Junsu is music.”

On Junsu’s other side, Yunho nodded in agreement, mouth too full to comment, and Junsu’s mouth went crinkly, unable to decide whether it was pleased or disgruntled about this announcement. Jaejoong settled the matter by putting a bowl of melon chunks down in front of Junsu, distracting him from the arguement entirely, or from anything else besides making high-pitched noises of glee through hamster-puffy cheeks.

“You’re supposed to share those,” Jaejoong admonished, grabbing Junsu’s wrist just long enough to let the others at least get a couple pieces. “Anyway, what are we talking about?”

“Yoochun-hyung doesn’t have any interests besides music,” Changmin filled him in, reaching for one of Yunho’s melon pieces. Jaejoong gave him a stern look and Changmin rolled his eyes before turning to snitch them from Junsu instead.

“I do so!” Yoochun protested, slapping Changmin’s hand away. “Fashion! I’m interested in fashion!”

Junsu raised an eyebrow and looked Yoochun up and down. “Next argument?”

“Hey!” Jaejoong protested, even louder than Yoochun’s indignant choke on his tea. “Half of what he’s wearing is mine, and you didn’t seem to have any problems with it last night!”

“Why do you think it ended up on my floor so fast?” Yunho commented, and Jaejoong scowled harder and shoved a piece of fruit in Yunho’s mouth.

“Nn!” Junsu exclaimed, tapping Yoochun’s arm with enough excitement that his tea sloshed. Jaejoong cleared his throat, looking away from where his fingers were still against Yunho’s lips, and Junsu swallowed most of the melon. “Hey, you should come play soccer with me this afternoon!”

Yoochun gave a noncommittal “Hmm?” and ignored the way Changmin was snickering and nudging Yunho with his elbow.

“It’ll be fun!” Junsu continued, finally turning away from his breakfast to focus entirely on Yoochun, and Changmin pounced on the unguarded melon with abandon. “We’ll meet up with a couple guys, get some fresh air, get our blood pumping, what could be better?”

Yoochun dared a glance at Junsu, and knew it was a mistake as soon as he got an eyeful of Junsu’s puppyish expression.

“Pleeease?” Junsu asked, leaning closer as if he sensed victory, like a flower senses the sun. “It’ll make you more well-rounded!”

“Okay, fine,” Yoochun sighed, smiling just a little at Junsu’s whoop of excitement, and continuing to ignore the snickers of Changmin and Yunho.

“I’m gonna go get dressed!” Junsu exclaimed, then dashed off, the rest of his breakfast forgotten, dragging Yoochun along with him.

Behind him, he heard Jaejoong say “I don’t know what you’re laughing about,” just before Junsu pushed him into his bedroom and shoved the door shut behind them. By the time Yoochun turned around, Junsu was already naked and grinning.

“What happened to soccer?” Yoochun wanted to know, not arguing at all as Junsu hooked thumbs in Yoochun’s waistband and started edging Jaejoong’s artfully distressed jeans out of the way.

“We’re getting there,” Junsu told him, then kissed Yoochun to share his laugh.


Yoochun had to admit, it was a gorgeous day to be outside. The sky was brilliant blue, the fall air was cool enough to make the sunshine feel wonderful, and there were just enough leaves in the grass to make crunching across it its own joy.

Watching Junsu dash across the grass, cheeks pink and arms flung out, that was its own joy too, a joy that Yoochun was much more interested in chasing after than the black-and-white ball, which seemed to be magnetically polarized to avoid Yoochun’s feet at all costs.

Fortunately, Junsu didn’t seem to mind. Even when the other team hollered that the score was now five-nothing, Junsu still skidded to stop next to Yoochun wearing a grin as big as the one he’d started with.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a dancer?” he teased, shouldering into Yoochun so that they both stumbled a little. “Shouldn’t you have talented feet?”

“Sorry, I don’t have much practice chasing after balls like a dog,” Yoochun teased back, reaching over to pluck a leaf out of Junsu’s hair. Junsu laughed, head thrown back, then his ears practically perked when someone called for a throw-in, and Yoochun chuckled himself as he shoved Junsu in the ball’s direction.

They played until the sun dipped behind the park’s trees and the wind started picking up, and even then Junsu didn’t show any signs of slowing.

“Aren’t you cold?” one of Yoochun’s other teammates asked, looking from his own sweatshirt to the T-shirt Yoochun was wearing. Yoochun had had a sweatshirt at one point, but it had transferred possession to Junsu after Junsu’s sweatshirt had fallen victim to a leaf-camouflaged mud puddle.

Right now Junsu was swinging the sweatshirt over his head, celebrating a successful attempt to earn their team at least one goal’s worth of pride.

“Nah,” Yoochun shrugged, meeting Junsu’s grin from across the field and feeling as warm as if sunshine were heating every inch of his skin.

“You had fun right?” Junsu asked when they got back in the car, Yoochun very excited for the heater regardless of Junsu’s smile.

“Yeah, I did,” Yoochun assured, reaching over to pull what looked like exactly the same leaf out of Junsu’s hair. “Don’t you dare put that sweatshirt down on my seats!”

Yoochun’s limbs were already stiffening up by the time they got back out of the car, but Junsu’s laughter as he rubbed Yoochun’s shoulders made his heart light, and Junsu’s hair smelled like sunshine when he hugged Yoochun close to whisper a “thank you” for coming out to play.


“Didn’t you go out with Junsu and Yunho?” Changmin commented when Yoochun flopped onto the couch next to him. “I thought you were cultivating an interest in sports.”

“I was.” Yoochun grimaced as the couch bounced and jostled still-sore muscles. “Briefly. Now I’m cultivating an interest in being warm and lazy during my infrequent afternoons off.”

“Well, hyung,” Changmin dropped a Playstation controller into Yoochun’s hands and slapped his back, “then I’ve got a hobby for you.”

“So,” Yoochun asked after Changmin talked him through the start screens, “I just…roll things into balls? And why do we own the Japanese version?”

“Makes it educational,” Changmin informed him happily, and then proceeded to correct all of Yoochun’s kanji pronunciation.

They whiled away the afternoon, switching from Katamari to Kingdom Hearts (“Donald Duck has tentacles,” Yoochun said in horror, “I can’t play this.”) to a racing game which took Yoochun half an hour to pimp out his dream wheels, and two minutes to completely total it on the very first turn.

It was still fun, watching Changmin’s expressions out of the corner of his eyes, expressions of amusement and occasionally horror, Changmin who laughed as Yoochun tilted the controller harder when things wouldn’t roll where he wanted them to, and cheered when Yoochun finally learned what the R3 button did. Changmin who wouldn’t stoop to letting Yoochun win, but didn’t mind switching controllers mid-game sometimes just to even things out.

“You two are going to ruin your eyes!” Jaejoong scolded, flipping on the lamp, making Yoochun jump with the noise and the light. Yoochun realized that it had somehow gotten dark while they were staring at the garish colors of the television.

“Yes, mother,” Changmin said, but he tilted his head back to watch Jaejoong’s stretch along with Yoochun, Jaejoong’s hair in strange whorls from his nap and his T-shirt riding up. Behind them, their game ended with a loud, messy sound, but neither of them noticed. “Wanna three-way?”

“Brats,” Jaejoong said when he was done yawning, not even dignifying Changmin’s question or his proffered controller with a response. He ruffled both of their hair hard enough to knock Yoochun’s glasses askew and Changmin push into the touch. “I’m starting dinner, it’ll be about a half-hour.”

Changmin leaned off the couch to change the disc while Yoochun watched Jaejoong exit the room at a sleepy saunter, and when he turned back, Yoochun recognized the theme music to the RPG from Junsu’s iPod.

“So,” Changmin turned to Yoochun, holding out the controller, “we’ll take turns?”

“You play,” Yoochun pushed the controller back, then stretched out across the couch so that his head was leaned comfortably against Changmin’s thigh. “I’ll watch. My thumbs are killing me. Why are everybody’s hobbies so physically taxing?”

“Noob,” Changmin laughed, scrunching Yoochun’s hair in a slightly less painful grip than Jaejoong. His fingers lingered against Yoochun’s scalp for a second, but then he needed them for the action.

He filled in the story for Yoochun as he picked up his saved game, a winding explanation about a magic princess and a sports hero and the world ending. Yoochun said “I see” and “interesting” in all the right places as he rubbed the stiffness out of his hands.

After watching the game for a bit, enough to appreciate the aesthetics of the scenery and characters design, Yoochun rolled onto his back and watched Changmin’s face instead. Changmin spared him a glance to let him know that he knew what Yoochun was doing, but went back to his game after getting a guileless grin in return.

The flow of Changmin’s expressions were far more interesting as he became absorbed in the game, all but forgetting Yoochun was even there. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he worked out a puzzle and lit up in victory when he solved it, his jaw tightening when a battle started up, then went slack for a second when he unlocked a cool special effect he hadn’t seen before.

For Yoochun, it was a more appealing visual than any video game had ever had printed on the back of its box, and when Jaejoong interrupted to call them for dinner and Changmin tossed his controller aside, Yoochun sat up and threw a leg over Changmin’s thighs to settle in his lap, winding arms around his neck and pressing their lips together for a leisurely kiss.

The kaleidoscope of expressions felt just as good against Yoochun’s mouth as it looked, from surprise to interest to heat as Changmin sank fingers into Yoochun’s shoulders to pull him closer, to victory as Yoochun groaned into his mouth.

“What was that for?” Changmin asked when Yoochun leaned back a half-inch, both of their chests rising and falling quickly, their eyes dark and voices low.

Yoochun didn’t have a snappy answer ready, so he kissed Changmin again, kissed him until Jaejoong came into the room and whacked him on the head with a spoon.


The spoon gave Yoochun a goose egg, and also an idea. The next time he found himself miraculously at loose ends, it was Jaejoong he trailed, following him into the kitchen.

“Are you still on about that?” Jaejoong asked with a ‘isn’t that adorable’ smile when Yoochun asked to cook with him. “Chunnie-ah, they’re teasing you.”

“I know that,” Yoochun answered, waving a hand. “But there’s nothing wrong with being more well-rounded. Unless you don’t want to spend time with me…”

“Oh, don’t you make that face at me, Park Yoochun,” Jaejoong said in response to Yoochun’s biggest, saddest eyes, which of course meant that he was relenting. “Fine, fine, you can be my slave, I mean, help me out. Get the cream from the fridge while you’re standing there.”

Yoochun could already cook of course, but out of biological necessity, especially for a young man living with four other young men and their appetites. Jaejoong, on the other hand, cooked as a process, tasting rather than measuring, adding ingredients as the mood struck him. With their trip to Paris looming on the horizon, Jaejoong’s cooking had taken on a Parisian bent, an interesting addition to Jaejoong’s usual Korean repetoire.

“It’s a work in progress,” Jaejoong informed him when Yoochun said as much, bringing the spoon up for a taste, and Yoochun laughed when Jaejoong’s nose wrinkled.

“I know it’s fusion cuisine,” Yoochun said, unable to resist leaning in for a sample himself, grimacing when even Jaejoong’s lips failed to improve the taste, “but what exactly are you fusing it with?”

Jaejoong smiled, sweet and menacing, and pinned Yoochun against the counter with a hand on either side of his waist to share a longer, more involved taste, ignoring Yoochun’s whines and struggle to get away.

They started over, Jaejoong’s enthusiasm for wild experimentation momentarily tamed, but his enthusiasm for the process itself as unbridled as ever. Yoochun could see why as he watched Jaejoong lean over the stove, eyes closing in pleasure as he inhaled the aroma, steam making his hair curl against his cheeks.

The others wandered in and out, Junsu investigating the pots by lifting the lids and getting underfoot until Jaejoong shooed him out, Changmin trying to sneak a before-dinner snack only to receive a scolding from Jaejoong, Yunho trying to sneak some of Jaejoong’s attention and getting similarly rebuffed.

It didn’t escape Yoochun’s notice, though, that none of them were sent from the kitchen without a few tastes of various things, a bite of fruit for Yunho or a spoonful of sauce for Junsu, a small bowl of rice to tide over the bottomless pit they affectionately referred to as Changmin. They were intimate acts, caring and familiar, and Jaejoong basked in the attention he got in return, the brush of Changmin’s fingers against his own and the touch of Yunho’s palm over his hip.

“What are you smiling about?” Jaejoong asked, licking sauce off of his thumb, but his eyes were knowing, and Yoochun leaned in until Jaejoong fed him too, happy to give Jaejoong all the attention he wanted.


“Finally made your way to me?” Yunho inquired as Yoochun sat on Yunho’s bed and slid in next to him, propped up against the pillows. Yunho’s amusement was housed mostly in his eyes as he regarded Yoochun over the rim of his glasses. “Or did Jaejoong scare you away with more fusion cuisine?”

“Best for last?” Yoochun offered, getting a suspicious “Mmhmm” out of Yunho. He leaned his head against Yunho’s shoulder to look at what was on his laptop. “So what are you up to, Leader-sshi?”

“Writing.” Yunho shrugged a shoulder, then tapped a few keys. “Still in search of a hobby? We could collaborate.”

“Are you sure?” Yoochun asked, turning his head to look at Yunho. Yunho shrugged again, and Yoochun grinned and slid even closer. “Turns out I have some time.”

They passed the laptop back and forth between them, Yoochun correcting Yunho’s grammar and Yunho laughing at Yoochun’s shameless use of Jaejoong and Changmin’s fight that morning as fodder for his dialogue. They didn’t talk much, but that was normal for the two of them.

By the time Jaejoong sauntered in to break up the quiet and wriggle in between them, Yoochun and Yunho realized that hours had passed, but that was normal for the two of them as well.

“Read to me?” Jaejoong asked, curled up in Yoochun’s arms with his chin on Yunho’s shoulder, and Yoochun and Yunho took turns doing that too, making Jaejoong laugh at the bits of Junsu and Changmin he recognized, and stick his tongue out at the bits of himself.

“The truth hurts,” Yoochun said sagely, pinching Jaejoong’s hip and getting a kick to the shin in return. Yunho got a similar kick for laughing.

“So who wrote which part?” Jaejoong wanted to know, and Yoochun and Yunho exchanged a glance over his head before giving an identical shrug.


“So,” Junsu asked as Yoochun slipped into bed, warm and sleepy from the shower that had eased the kinks out of his neck and shoulders, “found an interest yet?”

“Turns out I have four already,” Yoochun answered, tugging Junsu closer to rub his cheek against the soft, worn cotton of Junsu’s T-shirt and thinking about how Junsu smelled like sunshine.

“Do tell,” Junsu murmured in Yoochun’s ear. He rubbed Yoochun’s back in slow circles while Yoochun told him about Changmin’s long fingers moving swift and sure over a controller, Jaejoong’s eyes fluttering as he tasted something new and crinkling when he fed it to someone else, Yunho’s mouth curling as he reread something he’d written.

“And in conclusion, I think I am quite well-rounded enough,” Yoochun finished, working his hands up into Junsu’s hair to make him shiver, but Junsu wasn’t distracted.

“What about me?” he wanted to know, then added “Eep!” when Yoochun rolled them so that Junsu was leaning over Yoochun, sitting on his thighs.

Yoochun curled hands around Junsu’s waist, then slid them lower until Junsu laughed throatily. “You’re pretty well-rounded too.”

“Jerk.” Junsu leaned down for a kiss, and Yoochun tilted his face up willingly, Junsu’s lips warm and sweet against his own.

Neither one of them looked up when there was a knock on the doorframe.

“Oh, come on, you two,” Changmin said, clearly not sorry about interrupting. “Jaejoong’s making crepes…at least, I think that’s what they are. Hurry up or he’ll feed them all to Yunho!”

“Actually,” Jaejoong’s voice cut in, and Yoochun finally turned his head to look with a little roll of his eyes. Jaejoong was standing in the doorway next to Changmin with a plate and a smear of whipped cream on his cheek, Yunho leaning over Jaejoong’s shoulder. “We thought we’d bring the midnight snack to you.”

“See?” Yoochun said smugly as Junsu slid over to the side to make room for both bandmates and food. “I’m interested in lots of things.”

“We know, hyung,” Changmin said, leaning over to steal a bite of Junsu’s crepe and scowling when Yunho beat him to it. Jaejoong laughed with the back of his hand pressed to his mouth before offering a piece to Yoochun.

Yoochun accepted it with a neat curl of his tongue over Jaejoong’s fingers, making Jaejoong’s eyes crinkle, laughing when Yunho leaned in to lick the cream off Jaejoong’s cheek and made him yelp, before Changmin and Junsu’s wrestling nearly upended the plate and covered them all in fruit and cream.

“Don’t worry, Chunnie-ah,” Junsu assured when they were all full and in a sleepy tangle, Yunho already snoring softly in between the curl of Changmin and Jaejoong that was warming his feet. “We love you just the way you are.”

Yoochun smiled, eyes fluttering shut from the stroke of Junsu’s slight-sticky fingers over his skin. “That’s music to my ears.”

1 person likes this post.


  • By tsubasa_lupin, 2010.02.12 @ 11:05 pm

    This is like… my 10th time reading it and I’m still loving every line <3

  • By Mousapelli, 2010.02.13 @ 7:23 am

    Thank you!

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