Work Text:
“Haha, XIA Junsu should see this.“
Junsu stepped in the rehearsal room and closed the door behind him. The EMK Musical Company had contacted him a few months earlier, saying they were planning to bring Elisabeth on stage again and asking if he would be interested in playing the role of Death once more. Now the rehearsals were on full swing and today Junsu had come extra early to run over some details before the others arrived. But time was not pressing yet, so he checked his phone and saw that Jaejoong had messaged him.
Jaejoong had sent him a TikTok video. It was a short clip of a longer YouTube video; some kind of concert, or so it seemed, probably filmed with a phone from the audience. The thumbnail showed a man – around his age – on quite a small stage. The man was wearing black combat boots and black leather trousers, but was naked waist-up, save a pair of black leather bracers on his forearms. His body was smeared with some black soot-like paint up to his neck – Junsu idly noticed that he had rather nice muscles –, but his face was stark white. Black hair was cascading down his shoulders and back.
There weren’t much comments under the video, but one had caught Junsu’s eye. That was probably the reason why Jaejoong had sent him the video in the first place.
“Haha, XIA Junsu should see this.“
Junsu clicked on the video and almost dropped his phone when the man promptly growled in his face.
“Oh my God!“
Junsu sat on the couch, turned the volume down a little and started the video from the beginning. The sound was tinny and cracked occasionally, as it often happened with phone recordings, but the deep growls still resonated through the speakers. He had tried to make such a sound in the musical Dracula, but his voice simply didn’t go that low. Of course he had worked with what he had, ever the professional, and even the critics had deemed his performance stunning, not to mention the fans. But sometimes he wished…
The camera zoomed in and Junsu noticed that his initial thoughts about the man’s body had been correct. He really had nice muscles. Not the kind of what some K-pop idols boasted: wide but still lean shoulders that tapered into small waist; a carefully curated contrast of strength and fragility. No, the man was built much stockier, a bit of like those Greek statues, but without the harsh definition of the marble. Strong but round shoulders, and wide chest that smoothly transitioned into a sturdy waist. When he bent his body to the side, soft rolls of flesh spilled over the low waistband of his trousers, and disappeared again when he stretched. Junsu remembered his own rigorous dieting before the concerts – to prevent this very thing from happening – and found himself weirdly enticed.
Oh, and the man had red glitter around his eyes.
Then the video ended.
Junsu started it again.
This time his gaze was drawn to the face. It was painted white as a corpse, only the eyelids were covered with thick red glittering make-up. The eyes were unnaturally light-coloured – the man was probably wearing contacts that gave him an uncanny, piercing stare. The result was somewhere between a Twilight vampire and a geisha who hadn’t gotten proper sleep for three nights straight. In some strange way the man pulled off this look rather well.
The hair helped, somehow. It was really long – down to the hips – and black as a moonless night.
The quality of the video was not the best and the camera was a bit shaky. So it took Junsu two more times of watching the clip to notice a piercing in the middle of the man’s lower lip. He wondered how it would feel to have something like this in his own lip; and then he found himself thinking how it would feel to take the man’s lip between his teeth – with piercing and all – and tug at it. No woman he had kissed had had a lip piercing.
Junsu cleared his throat and felt his cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment. He paused the video and was about to close it when his eyes fell on the comments again.
“Haha, XIA Junsu should see this.“
What exactly should he see?
Junsu started the video once more from the beginning. He tried to listen the lyrics, but soon found them impossible to understand. Was it English? Some other language? With the man growling like this, it could have been anything.
The video was simply titled “Nachtblut – live“. Junsu could have googled it, of course, but first he scrolled down in the comments.
Nachtblut was the name of the band, as he quickly realised, not the title of the song. As he scrolled up again, none the wiser, he found that someone had replied to the comment about him.
“LMAO, totally! “Patronengurt, corpse paint, black metal Kutte – der Tod ist meine Nutte“ OMG, I can’t!“
Junsu frowned and clicked on the video again. If he listened very carefully, he could just about make out the lyrics the last person had apparently quoted. He also noticed the man’s pectorals slightly flexing in the rhythm of the song.
Junsu scrolled down again and clicked on the last comment to translate the lyrics.
“Bullet belt, corpse paint, black metal jacket – death is my whore.“
The door opened with a squeak and Junsu looked up to see Kang Hongseok entering the room. “Hi, hyung!“
“Ah, Junsu-ssi!“ The older man strode to him, plopped down on the couch and flashed Junsu a wide grin. “What, already resting? Before the rehearsal? Are you tired?“ Hongseok chuckled and reached over to pat Junsu on the shoulder. “The Death is dead?“
The Death.
Junsu’s gaze fell back on the screen.
Der Tod.
Oh.
Oh.
The first time it happened Junsu was in his bedroom. It was a week after seeing the video. No, not the TikTok video. Junsu had replied Jaejoong with “Hyung! What?!“ and had resolutely decided to not watch the video ever again. Then, two days later, he had caved, looked up the original full-length video from YouTube and watched it from the beginning to the end. Then he had found the lyrics and translated them. And then he had watched the video again. And again. And… oh, well.
He had not googled the band, neither the singer. First, he did not have the time, and second, it felt weird for a reason he couldn’t really explain to himself.
Anyway, he was laying in his bed, between this fuzzy state of sleep and wakefulness where everything was warm and soft and the air tasted like cotton candy. City lights were flickering behind the window, far below, and his arm felt too heavy to draw the curtains, so his white blanket seemed to glow faintly, while soft shadows stretched out from the corners and filled the rest of the room.
There was a man standing in the shadows.
Junsu did not remember turning his head, but now he was looking at the farthest corner of his bedroom. The man was tall, taller than any human being should have been. The top of his head touched the ceiling and his shoulders stretched to the sides like twin peaks of a mountain. Long black hair was falling over his arms and bare chest.
“Who are you?“ Junsu wanted to ask, but realised he couldn’t move his lips.
The man seemed to understand anyway. He walked towards Junsu and as he came closer, his proportions shrunk until he was only a head taller than Junsu. His body was painted black, but his face was snow-white and as he reached out a hand, the rings in his fingers glinting, Junsu recognised the man from the video.
The touch of black-painted fingers on his cheek was surprisingly warm and Junsu leaned into it without thinking. The thumb dragged slowly over his lips, while the rest of the fingers slipped lower and cradled his jaw. Obeying the unspoken demand, Junsu lifted his head and looked at the white face. The paint was smudged and sweat-striped, as if after a long show, almost worn off from the temples and lips. Only the black and red glitter around the eyes was still stubbornly clinging to the skin, though some shimmering flakes had fell on the strong hawk-like nose. Junsu found himself briefly wondering if the saying about big noses also applied here.
As if he had read Junsu’s thoughts, the man smiled, quick and sharp, his lower lip stretching around the piercing there. Then he leaned closer to Junsu and pressed their lips together.
Junsu opened his mouth, too stunned to protest. And, as he realised with a jolt in his stomach, he did not want to protest. If he was honest with himself, he really had been waiting for it. The man’s lips were soft and tasted of face paint. The piercing was digging into his own lip and sending little pinpricks of warmth all over his body. The fingers around his jaw tightened and Junsu’s mouth was opened wider, so that the man could thrust his tongue in.
A broken whimper escaped Junsu and he grabbed the man’s upper arms to draw him closer. Every sensation was heightened. He acutely felt muscles moving under his hands, the firm grip around his jaw, the long hair tickling his face and the tongue invading his mouth, warm and wet, thrusting in and pulling out, only to thrust in again, even deeper than before…
The man leaned over Junsu, pushed his head in the pillow and wedged a knee between his legs to support himself. For some strange reason Junsu felt the pressure of the knee, but realised that the mattress was not dipping under the weight of the man. That was weird. The man was not slender by any means, Junsu should have felt it when he rested his weight on the bed. It was almost as if he was dreaming… but his fingers were still dug in the other’s biceps and there was still a tongue thrusting in his mouth and… the man’s face was morphing into a white blur and the taste of a face paint faded away… and…
Junsu made a low noise of protest and held fast of the man. He was not dreaming, he was awake and this was really happening, he was not dreaming, he was not…
Junsu opened his eyes. The room was empty, save him, and the shadows in the corners stood still. His own hair had fallen on his face and was tickling his cheek.
And he was half-hard.
Junsu huffed with disappointment. He briefly considered jerking off, but quickly realised that if he did it, he would probably not be able to not think of the man. It would not have been his first time getting off while thinking of another man, but somehow this was too embarrassing.
Was it because of the song? Was it because it was one thing to fantasise about himself fucking another man, but something totally different to think of himself bottoming for someone else? And Junsu knew this time he couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Patronengurt, corpse paint, black metal Kutte – der Tod ist meine…
Junsu groaned and flopped on his side. Maybe he should think of Jaejoong getting railed, just out of spite; that would serve his hyung right.
Or maybe he should get some sleep. It was getting late and he had rehearsal tomorrow morning.
The next day they were mainly focusing on prince Rudolf’s death scene. At first Junsu cursed his bad luck, but quickly realised it was a wonderful way to let out at least some of the frustration from the night before.
“Junsu-ssi!“ Hongseok called him during a break, when Junsu had spotted a thermos on the corner table and helped himself some tea. “You looked positively menacing today! Did you want to eat the poor guy or what?“
Junsu laughed and took a sip of his tea. For a brief moment, it vaguely tasted of face paint.
The man was two years older than Junsu. He was from Germany, but he definitely had some strong Greek origins. He didn’t sing at all – in the classical sense of it –, but his screams and growls were quite impressive… and rather enjoyable, even if this type of music was far from Junsu’s usual taste. His stage name was Askeroth and his real name was Athanasios Toutziaridis.
Junsu had spent a good fifteen minutes learning how to pronounce it. He didn’t want to think about it.
And he could bench-press a hundred and twenty-five kilograms. Junsu had watched this video only once, then deleted it from his YouTube history and definitely did not think about it.
And he definitely did not watch it again.
A hundred and twenty five kilograms… Dear heavens, that was twice Junsu’s own weight.
His schedule was packed so tightly there was barely any room to eat and sleep. Rehearsals, press interviews, costume fittings, his own performances and a short inland tour with JX. It had been easier when he was younger. Yes, he had much more skills and experience now, but he also tended to exhaust himself quicker and that stressed him out.
Lately Junsu had discovered that sucking lollipops helped a bit. He had never been too fond of sweets, except when he was in the military, but the feeling of something in his mouth kept him at least somewhat grounded. He understood, on some level, the people who smoked, even if he himself did not feel any need for it – he had tried a few cigarettes years ago and found the taste outright disgusting.
Now he was sitting in the theatre hall, on the corner of a stage, idly twirling his tongue around the lollipop in his mouth. He was in full costume, sans make-up, and waiting for his call. Ock Joohyun and Gil Byeongmin were singing the duet of Elisabeth and Franz-Joseph on their wedding day. Their voices were beautiful, Joohyun’s strong soprano soaring high and ringing clearly as a big silver bell, then fading in the background and giving way to Byeongmin’s warm bass-baritone. It was like listening waves rolling on the shore, over and over again.
Someone came to stand before him. Junsu saw clunky combat boots and black leather trousers that hung freely around the calves, but clung rather tightly to muscular thighs. As his gaze roamed higher, he noticed a black T-shirt, strong arms that were crossed over chest, long black hair and a familiar face. This time it was left natural – in the absence of white paint and red-black eyeshadow it looked almost soft.
“Mr Toutziaridis!“ Junsu whispered, quite proud of his pronunciation, and scrambled on his knees. “What are you doing here?“
“Askeroth,“ the man corrected, his voice a low rumble, twined his fingers in Junsu’s hair and pulled. The feeling went straight to Junsu’s groin.
He had never heard the man refer to himself with his real name. At the same time, it was weird to use his stage name when he was standing so close, his groin almost in Junsu’s face. Junsu swallowed and decided on Athanasios – at least in his own head.
Athanasios the Great had been some kind of a saint. Junsu was not sure how he knew that; his own church did not have the practice of venerating saints. He looked at the man’s T-shirt again – this time he noticed a band logo he had seen the man wearing on some pictures, the letters pretty much illegible, two inverted crosses decorating the first and last letter – and wondered what did this Athanasios here think of his saintly namesake.
Junsu’s thoughts were rudely interrupted when his hair was pulled again, stronger this time. He suppressed a yelp – there were other people here for heaven’s sake! –, but even as he glared up at the other man, he felt a heavy warmth settling in his stomach.
Athanasios looked back at Junsu, a mischievous grin on his lips. His other hand that wasn’t currently fisting Junsu’s hair hovered briefly over his brow and then Junsu felt large knuckles brushing down his cheek. The stick of his lollipop was caught between a thumb and an index finger, and Athanasios twirled the candy in his mouth.
“What’s that for?“ he asked, still smiling. “Aren’t sweets before singing bad for your voice or something?“
“Chocolate and cookies are not good right before singing,“ Junsu answered, his voice somewhat muffled, because Athanasios kept moving the lollipop around in his mouth. “Hard candy is okay if I don’t eat it too much.“
Athanasios’ grin turned sharper, more feral, and Junsu realised how he had sounded.
“It’s a public place!“ he hissed, frantically looking around. Athanasios’ body was covering most of his view, but the people he managed to see were not looking at them. In fact, the theatre hall seemed to have grown bigger. The centre of the stage was far-far away, the bright spotlights only small shining beams in a distance, and they were in a shadowy corner between side curtains and stage props.
“You almost sound as if you don’t want it,“ Athanasios teased.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!“
A black eyebrow rose in a mocking arch. “Really?“ The grip in his hair loosened. “In that case – it was nice to see you. Good luck with your rehearsal.“
Junsu drew a sharp breath. “Wait!“ he whispered. And then, even quieter. “Please.“
He almost sighed in relief when the fingers in his hair tightened again. With trembling hands, he reached for Athanasios’ belt buckle; it took a few attempts before he could open it. As he fumbled with the button and fly of the leather trousers, Athanasios took the lollipop away and put it in his own mouth.
“For safekeeping,“ he murmured, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Don’t want you to accidentally deepthroat it, with your concerts and shows starting soon and all.“
Junsu nodded mutely and pushed the other’s trousers down a little. Then he saw the bulge, only covered by black briefs, and hesitated.
“I’ve never…“ he started. But he wanted to do that, he wanted it so badly. To feel something warm and heavy in his mouth, to let himself be overwhelmed, to not think about today’s rehearsal and then tomorrow’s, and then the interview next day, and three concerts at the end of the week, and…
“Never sucked a man off?“ Athanasios finished for him and tilted Junsu’s head up, still grinning. “It’s almost like giving head to a woman, only in reverse.“
Junsu snorted.
“I’ll go slowly,“ Athanasios added, his smile turning softer. “Come now, Death, show me I was right when I wrote a song about you.“
Junsu didn’t remember pulling down Athanasios’ briefs, but suddenly the other man’s erection was right in front of his face. It was flushed red, a drop of pre-come balancing on top of it and threatening to follow the gravity’s pull at any moment. And… yep, the saying about big noses was definitely true here.
Junsu stuck out his tongue and caught the falling drop. It tasted like a lollipop, for whatever reason. But then, he had just been sucking a lollipop, so maybe that was the case. Tentatively, Junsu licked the tip and was rewarded with a quiet sigh from above his head.
Wanting to hear the sigh again, Junsu closed his lips around the head and sucked softly. The taste of lollipop became even stronger, but Junsu didn’t have time to ponder on it, because Athanasios had now gripped his hair with both hands and was slowly pushing him further down.
Junsu chocked on the cock filling his mouth and swallowed rapidly. It was much – too much, his brain supplied, he had to save his throat for singing –, but it was exactly what he needed. The hot flesh teased its way further in his mouth, until it nudged at his throat and stretched his lips wide. He had to be careful with his teeth. The smell of skin and sweat and leather filled his nostrils. Pre-come was steadily trickling down his throat, making him swallow every now and then. And Athanasios’ hands were kneading at his hair, fists clenching and unclenching, while slowly pulling him back – he took a quick breath – and then down on his cock again. Sweet pleasure-pain ran from his scalp down his spine.
Junsu let out a quiet moan, muffled around the flesh in his mouth, and grabbed Athanasios’ thighs for support. The world faded away. Someone was singing somewhere, the stage lights flickered and moved, but none of it mattered any more. The only real thing in the world was the hard floor under his knees, the hands in his hair – one was now scratching his nape as if Junsu was a cat – and the pulsing cock in his mouth, hot and unyielding, moving back and forth at a steady pace. And the sharp breaths and muffled groans up above. Junsu realised, dazedly, that he was rock hard in his pants, but he was too overcome right now to do anything about it.
It went on for some time, Junsu on his knees, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t swallow the whole thing, but he could at least take half of the cock rather comfortably. He wrapped his hand around the base, stroking what he couldn’t fit in his mouth, and got a strangled moan for a reward.
“Good boy,“ he heard the other man whisper, and shuddered with delight. “Good little Death, so perfect on your knees. Come on, handsome, you can take a bit more.“
Whatever noise Junsu was about to make, it turned into a gurgling mewl. He inched forwards, swallowed, swirled his tongue, swallowed again…
“So gut,“ Athanasios rasped. Something about it sounded off to Junsu, but he was too distracted to pay attention. “Du bist eine perfekte… ah!“ One hand let go of his hair to rub at Junsu’s lips, stretched thin over the cock in his mouth. Junsu was not sure if it was possible, but the thing seemed to grow even bigger, until he was really choking at it. He needed to breathe and he couldn’t – but it felt so, so good.
Athanasios growled a warning and hot, sticky liquid filled Junsu’s mouth. He wasn’t able to swallow it all and some of it went down his windpipe. He tried to cough, but everything was too much and now the candy-flavoured come was filling his sinuses and he was drowning and…
“Junsu!“
Someone was leaning over him and holding him up. Someone else was hitting his back. Junsu gulped a big lungful of air and coughed until he could breathe freely again.
Joohyun was kneeling in front of him, holding his shoulder with one hand. In her other hand was Junsu’s lollipop.
“What…“ Junsu shook his head and coughed again. “Where is… how did…“
The person behind him squeezed Junsu so tightly it hurt. “Yay, the Death is alive!“
Hongseok, of course.
“You fell asleep, Junsu-ssi,“ Joohyun said, “while eating a lollipop. We noticed it when you began to choke.“
“I…“ It was a small mercy his face was already red from the coughing, otherwise his blush would have been painfully obvious. “Thank you, noona. I’ll try not to do that again.“
“You better,“ she warned him and gave him back the half-eaten lollipop. “Drink some water and rest a bit. We’ll go over the last part again with Byeongmin-ssi and then it’s your turn.“
Junsu nodded, sat up and took the water bottle Hongseok gave him. “Thanks, hyung. And… erm… sorry for scaring you all.“
Despite the rather frightening ending, Junsu was still somewhat hard from the dream. He was really glad for the suit jacket that went down to his upper thighs. Of course he could have explained the random erection as an involuntary reaction to having his air supply cut off, but it would have still been embarrassing. Especially at his age. Hongseok would have never let him to live it down.
Slowly, Junsu stuck the lollipop in his mouth again. The weird thing was, he felt a lot calmer than before. And if later, during The Last Dance, Joohyun’s face sometimes switched into something stronger and more masculine, then no-one else needed to know.
Only some time later did Junsu realise why Athanasios’ last words in his dream had sounded wrong. For the rest of his dream, the man had been speaking Korean, but the last words had been in German.
He was dreaming in German. Great.
Okay, maybe he had watched that weightlifting video a bit more than once.