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All skin and no shame

...innocence is just an illusion...

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Drabble: Born Free, One Closet
Title: Drabble: Born Free, One Closet
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Length: Drabble
Genre: non-AU
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the story.

Summary: Couples that dress together, live together ;-)

AN: Well, there’s been too many to count. Like an absurd number to the point where I really have no idea whether I’m living in an alternate Yunnieverse lol. I’m sure this topic has been exhausted and interpreted to death but hey what’s one more? :D

He is frustrated. He can hear the bells but he can’t seem to find the source.

Running around, chasing the sound, but getting neither closer nor more distant, he spins around on his heels, looking at his surroundings and trying to figure out where that mocking sound is coming from.

His tummy grumbles and he bends over, hugging his poor belly and groans pitifully.

“So warm…I want ice cream…need ice cream…”

The incessant ringing continues and he struggles upright despite the aching feeling to run again, his body feeling warmer and warmer as the time goes by.

It is winter, the snow falling lightly around him, and yet here he is running around in the middle of Gangnam-gu in a tank top and track pants, his temperature increasing by the second. He is overheated and desolate, for there is no one around to give him what he needs.

The bells are taunting him and his belly growls in response, the ache so deep it goes all the way to his ass.


The first thing he hears when he enters the apartment is a familiar tune playing somewhere in the distant. The sound is muffled by the walls between himself and its location, and knowing exactly where the melody is coming from, he is actually pretty impressed it hasn’t been killed yet.

Checking his watch, he shakes his head, thinking that perhaps being a human alarm clock was not a bad idea after all. He’d gotten the message at around two that morning, his hyung though completely exhausted, had enough of a mind to remember to tell him where he is.

Arranging the shoes in the vestibule, he clicks his tongue at the same set of sneakers kicked off to separate corners of the area. A second pair are also found in a similar haphazard condition, though slightly closer to each other. The clear hurriedness of the way the footwear were removed brings forth a tiny furrow to his brow.

“Well, at least one of us is getting some,” he mumbles to himself, feeling the heat rising till even the tips of his ears are burning. No matter how stoic he seems, he has watched way too many videos to be able to stop mental images from assaulting him. He doesn’t watch those types of videos, but he has a healthy enough imagination to know how it works, not to mention all the times he’s walked in on them would be more than enough to send him into a monastery if he were the pious sort.

The incessant ringing doesn’t stop, and he hurries through the apartment, mentally preparing himself to be assaulted visually.

He doesn’t bother knocking on the slightly ajar door, the sound now loud enough that he is really finding it hard to believe no one has done anything about the annoying noise.

Pushing it open, he finds what he expects.

There are always variations of course.

This time it’s a more familiar one of the smaller blond pinned to the bed under the taller brunette who seems to be trying his best to double as his blanket or something despite the voluminous comforter already on the bed. It’s been really cold in the city and while the temperature of the apartment is cooler than he is comfortable with, it really doesn’t justify the leader’s behaviour.

Peering gingerly at the bedsheets, he sits down primly, reaching out to turn the bloody alarm off, only to freeze at a soft moan coming from the smaller man.

“So hot…ice-cream…”


The distressed sound comes again and he can see the blond man struggling under the weight of the other man.

“Hot…it’s so hot.”

Understanding dawns on him and he almost laughs.

Reaching out, he pushes at Yunho’s shoulder, trying to get the man to roll off the suffocated and rather sweaty man underneath him.

An eye pops open, staring straight at him.

“What time is it?” The man’s voice is thick with sleep and he closes his eye, tightening his hold on the man in his arms.

“Late. The alarm was blaring when I came in. Didn’t you hear it?”

Changmin nudges Jaejoong this time, knowing that if the oldest of them moves, the leader will move.


The youngest rolls his eyes and shoves again, harder this time, and the singer wakes up startled.

“Ice cream?” Large doe eyes clouded with sleep and a hefty amount of confusion stare at the maknae.

“What ice cream?”

“Ice cream,” the gorgeous man pouts. “Ice cream?” he repeats, his tone vaguely hopeful though no less full of sleep.

Yunho snorts, more awake now, hiding his face in fragrant blond hair, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Pabo-yah…” Changmin shakes his head, deciding he doesn’t want to ask.

“Hot…” Jaejoong tries to shrug Yunho off, his lover is having none of it, wrapping his arms tightly around the other, his turn to pout.

“Yes…you are.”

Changmin rolls his eyes and stands as the couple start some version of tug-o-war where Yunho is trying to keep Jaejoong where he is and Jaejoong is fighting to get free to find ice cream or something. They are topless and the covers are in real danger of sliding lower and lower and exposing more and more bare skin and he really doesn’t want to be around when the covers lose the fight as they inadvertently will.

Nobody wins in a fight against both Yunho and Jaejoong. Not even inanimate objects.

He averts his eyes from the bed and tries to close his ears to the delighted giggles and husky laughter coming from his left. He surveys the room instead, finding no discarded clothes anywhere in sight which makes him flush again right to the roots of his hair as he hurries off to the owner of the apartment’s closet.

Flipping through the options hanging up, he scrunches his nose.

“Too obvious. Too obvious. Why on earth is this here. What the hell? This is my top I’m sure!” The maknae growls to himself as he yanks the offending Amour sweatshirt from a hanger and throws it over his shoulder as he continues to flip through both the hanging and folded options.

It takes a good twenty minutes of unfolding and refolding clothing options before he realises it’s a futile endeavour. Anything he thinks is too obvious are the only items that are either Yunho’s, or Jaejoong’s but in Yunho’s size. Tempted to put the Amour sweatshirt on the man, he is surprised when he bumps into a half-dressed Yunho on the way to the bathroom.

Taking a step back, he eyes the man’s black jeans critically, not really able to find fault with it.

Yunho simply ignores him, pushing past and mumbling about needing to pee and brush his teeth.

The jeans are so generic and Yunho wears black a lot. He huffs his approval and returns to the bedroom, hopeful that his other hyung is at least equally dressed.

No such luck when he finds Jaejoong sitting in the middle of the bed like a king (or queen) surrounded by fluffy covers and pillows, his blond hair sticking up every which way and checking his phone.

“Are you busy today?”

“Writing…composing…I haven’t decided yet.”

“Are you going to write about ice cream?”

“Hmmm?” the blond hums, not looking up from his phone. “I like ice cream.”

“I know. You were dreaming about it.”

Jaejoong finally looks up, a strange expression on his face.

“Was I…was I saying anything?”

“Just that you were hot which was understandable since hyung was basically trying to be a third blanket for you or something.”

“Hmmm,” the blond hums again, turning surreptitiously to look at the bedside table.

Changmin follows his gaze and finally notices the bowl. He can see smears of what appears to be remnants of pink cream, likely strawberry flavoured ice cream. He takes a step forward and gasps as more of the bowl meets his poor violated eyes.

An empty bottle of lube is sitting rather innocently in the middle of it.

Eyes wide with horror at the unspeakable mental images, he backs away as broken laughter fills the room.

Backs away till he hits an unmovable object.

An unmovable object that wraps his arms around him, smelling like vanilla, mouthwash, and a very very faint scent of smoke.

“Ready to go?”

“You’ve showered?”

“Few hours—“ Yunho stops mid-sentence as he sneezes violently.

Changmin practically leaps out of his arms, huffing and swearing about being germinated when he catches sight of the now fully dressed man.

Mouth gaping, he stares at the man who sneezes a couple more times for good measure before heading back to the bed to be cooed over by his lover in crime. The only thing that truly saved Yunho was the fact that he’s already wearing a mask.

The maknae had already mentally cast the checked shirt the leader is wearing to hell and perdition when he’d gone through the shared closet before because there was no way in hell he is going out like that, and he says as much. He probably should have taken a pair of scissors to it or something.

“I can’t actually remember whose shirt this is so why can’t he wear it? It’s probably his.” Jaejoong replies to Changmin’s outburst in a reasonable why-is-my-child-being-a-brat-maybe-my-calm-voice-will-help tone.

“That’s exactly why, damn it!”

Eyeing his partner curiously, Yunho doesn’t say a word and returns to the closet.

“Put that mask in the laundry,” Jaejoong yells out. “It’s full of snot!”

Yunho’s head appears in the doorway, and Changmin can actually see the pout even without seeing the pout.

“It is not!”

“Show me,” Jaejoong challenges, curling his finger at the younger man.

“NO!” Changmin yells, arms akimbo. “For fuck’s sake, I don’t want to see anyone’s bodily fluids! Shoo!” he waves off his sniffling sulky hyung. “You don’t need a black mask. Just get a disposable one.” And then almost as an afterthought, “And put on a jacket if you’ve caught a cold from doing things with ice cream you should never be doing in the first place!”

“And what exactly do you think we’ve been doing with ice cream?”

He returns his gaze to the very amused singer still sans a stitch of clothing in the middle of the bed like he’s on some downy throne, eyes trailing down the pale body marked with ink before he visibly shudders and closes his eyes.


Grumbling is heard about problematic dongsaengs and crazy boyfriends and the oldest and youngest turn towards the noise to find the fully decked out Jung Yunho, ready to conquer the world one step at a time.

He put on a jacket alright.

And a cap for good measure.

Changmin starts swearing a mile, glaring at the odious outfit, his expression highly offended.

Jaejoong simply bursts out laughing, a hand placed delicately over his mouth, eyes sparkling with love.


Well, he just beams behind his mask, rather content with his choice of outfit. He is warm and comfortable and he feels loved, and that’s all that matters.

AN1: I just traversed 13 timezones or something stupid like that and went from the airport to work to deal with some issues and I haven’t even had a proper breakfast and it’s already lunchtime so if there are any mistakes or whatever, please ignore them lol. Written in just over an hour so it’s probably mistakes galore ugh.

AN2: This is the same non-AU verse as Always Be My Baby and He's Yours :)

AN3: I am working while wearing my husband’s sweatpants with the legs rolled up like some kind of lost b-girl and a teeshirt he wore before I left him cos I had to return without him due to the emergency. I’ve been getting side-eyes but seriously, I fucking dare someone to say something after I’ve travelled over 24hrs only to have to come straight in to work. I look like I should be in bed and not in the boardroom lmao and idgaf.

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Changmin forever tainted his hyungs appetite towards each other. I wouldn't mind if he wants to switch his position with me

We really are all perves :D Though I wrote this so I wonder what that makes me...

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