Changmin and Junsu getting into an impromptu video game tournament tends to be cause for concern around the Dong Bang household. After the last time ended with Junsu’s foot somehow getting stuck inside the couch and Changmin getting clotheslined by the Playstation controller and getting some very interesting looks from the stylists the next day, Jaejoong decides it’s in the best interests of everyone if someone referees.

Unfortunately, while he he’s busy congratulating himself for his brilliant forethought, Yoochun slips away to the music room under the pretense of composing and Yunho decides tonight is a wonderful night to go up on to the roof and try out his new telescope.

With a heavy sigh and detailed thoughts of revenge, Jaejoong settles himself on the couch, his feet between the younger two sitting on the floor. Neither Junsu nor Changmin even acknowledges his presence.

Fifteen minutes and three hard couch-pillow whacks to the back of each of their heads later, Jaejoong is getting bored. He figures the two of them have learned their lesson (his pillow technique is, after all, very convincing) and instead uses the pillow for its intended purpose, curling up against the arm of the couch with his toes between the cushions to keep them warm.

He’s asleep before Changmin and Junsu finish their next round and therefore misses their scarily synchronized laughter.

By the time Jaejoong makes it into the bathroom the next morning, Changmin’s already hidden the sharpies in Yoochun’s desk and made his own breakfast.

Yunho’s deaf for the next hour from the shriek Jaejoong makes when he looks in the mirror and sees the lyrics to “Superman” sharpied across his face in bright red and blue.

When Jaejoong bought the mirror, the others made fun of him endlessly.

“How many mirrors do you need?” Junsu snickered, on the way home from the filming, the mirror safely tucked in the back of the van. They’d been filming next door to an antique furniture shop, and Jaejoong had snuck over during a break and come back, proudly bearing his prize.

It was beautiful, the metal of the trim in need of a little dusting and maybe a polish, but the floor-length glass didn’t have a single chip in it, and it swung freely in the stand.

On the other hand, Junsu did have something of a point. It wasn’t like they, all being international idols, didn’t have quite a few mirrors throughout all of their various apartments.

“He’s never going to leave the bedroom again,” Changmin sighed, leaning his head sadly against Yoochun’s shoulder. “Say goodbye to your best friend, because he’s just going to stand in there and stare at himself all day long.”

“Our career is over,” Yoochun agreed, leaning his head against Changmin’s. They gave another sad sigh in unison.

“That’s fine,” Jaejoong said placidly from the backseat, one hand protectively on the mirror to make sure it didn’t bounce around. “Because none of you are allowed to use my mirror.”

True to his word, Jaejoong kicked Junsu, Yoochun, and Changmin all out of the bedroom while he set the mirror up and cleaned off the worst of the dust, slamming the door in their faces with a good deal of satisfaction. For a while the three of them entertained themselves by shouting obscene suggestions for what Jaejoong could do with his reflection through the door, but eventually they got bored and wandered off.

When Yunho opened the door a while after that, Jaejoong turned to yell, but his expression relaxed when he saw who it was.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Jaejoong turned back to the mirror, rubbing at a particularly troublesome spot with an old T-shirt. “You’re allowed in.”

“Nice to hear.” Yunho came closer to inspect Jaejoong’s work, trailing fingers over worn bits of the ornate border. “Looks good.”

Jaejoong tossed the T-shirt aside and stretched, his back cracking a little. “I’ll have to get some furniture polish for the rest of it, I think. Hm?” he asked when Yunho’s arms came around his waist before he could get his hands back down.

“I mean,” Yunho tugged Jaejoong back against his chest, and ran his eyes deliberately up and down their reflections in the mirror, “looks good.”

“Aha, I was wondering why you weren’t in on the teasing.” Jaejoong’s smile was lazy, and he didn’t make any move either to stop Yunho or to help as Yunho began undoing the row of buttons down Jaejoong’s shirt.

“I’m a little smarter than most of them, it’s true.” Yunho ran fingertips over the stripe of skin he’d bared down the center of Jaejoong’s chest, making Jaejoong hum. “Otherwise they would have seen the practical applications of the situation.”

“Mm, I love it when you use all the big words,” Jaejoong said, making Yunho laugh again. “Tell me more, professor.”

“Don’t get smart with me, I’m on your side,” Yunho admonished, pinching Jaejoong’s nipple and making Jaejoong twitch. He pushed Jaejoong away, making Jaejoong give a whine, but it was only far enough to strip the shirt off Jaejoong’s body and toss it aside.

“Maybe just a demonstration, then?” Jaejoong purred as Yunho pulled him close again, reaching around behind to wrap arms around Yunho’s waist in a backwards hug. “Of the practical applications of the situation. I’m a tactile learner, Yunho-sshi.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Yunho murmured. He bent his head enough to start trailing open-mouthed kisses along Jaejoong’s shoulder, but his eyes stayed on their reflection as he fiddled with Jaejoong’s belt.

It was hard to decide what to watch as he tugged Jaejoong’s cock free and stroked him hard, either his hand sliding over Jaejoong’s skin or the flush spreading over Jaejoong’s chest or the way Jaejoong’s eyes were dark under his lashes, obviously watching the same things as Yunho.

Jaejoong got more restless in Yunho’s grip the longer he was held still, but Yunho wrapped his free arm around Jaejoong’s chest tighter, adjusted his grip with his other hand. It changed the angle just enough to get Jaejoong to jerk against him, to start pleading in a low, rough voice that made Yunho’s arms goosebump and his own cock stiffen where it was trapped in his jeans and snug against Jaejoong’s ass.

When Yunho traced the lines of Jaejoong’s tattoo with the tip of his tongue, Jaejoong cried out, and his cock jumped in Yunho’s hand. Yunho grinned against Jaejoong’s skin, and when he felt Jaejoong give a telltale shudder, he bit down on the inked skin, turning Jaejoong’s cry into a full-throated wail, and there was a rush of slick heat over Yunho’s fingers.

“Very nice,” Yunho whispered in Jaejoong’s ear as he soothed Jaejoong down with soft brushes of his clean hand down Jaejoong’s chest, and if Jaejoong noticed the way Yunho’s voice shook a little, he didn’t tease about it.

“See?” Jaejoong asked, twisting just enough to get his mouth within reach of Yunho’s, “This is why we need more mirrors.”

The problem with the intensive Japanese study was that it was, well, intense. And while Yunho was incredibly grateful that all of DBSK was going through it at the same time instead of having to endure it alone, sometimes being all together and constantly focusing on the same thing all at the same time just got a little…

…intense.

Yunho sighed, scrubbing at his face, and thought that all this study seemed to make him feel stupider all the time.

“Break?” Jaejoong murmured, nudging Yunho’s shoulder with his own.

Jaejoong’s face was hopeful, but the grumpiness made Yunho respond with, “In Japanese.”

Jaejoong gave a put-upon sigh and then raised his voice to enunciate loudly, “There is a feeling of ‘Yunho-kun needs a break’ for sure.”

Junsu, Yoochun, and Changmin all looked at them blankly over the table for a minute. Then Changmin went back to fiddling with his pocket dictionary, Junsu looking over his shoulder with his face all scrunched up in concentration, leaving Yoochun to shrug at them.

“It can’t be helped,” he said, and Jaejoong gave him a blinding smile before bouncing up out of his chair, and dragging Yunho along by the elbow.

“Great,” Yunho grumbled as Jaejoong pushed him into the bedroom and shut the door firmly, “now they’ll know exactly what we’re up to.”

“In Japanese,” Jaejoong reminded sweetly, and then, because they were in Japan and their bedroom was the size of a box of pocky, shoved Yunho down on the bed.

“Jaejoong,” Yunho whined, because that was the same no matter which country they were in, but he let his grumpiness melt away when Jaejoong climbed up to snuggle against him.

“The coach did say we were supposed to use Japanese in our everyday situations…” Jaejoong snickered when Yunho poked him in the ribs.

“Unless your textbook is a bit different than mine,” Yunho said, brushing his lips over Jaejoong’s cheekbone, “I doubt it’s going to have most of the words we need, Boo Jae.”

“Hmm, that so?” Jaejoong purred, and then slid his hands down to cup Yunho’s ass and murmured three sentences worth of Japanese that he had definitely not learned from any textbook Yunho was in possession of.

He admired Yunho’s dangling jaw for a few seconds, then used one finger to push it shut so that he could press a smug kiss against Yunho’s lips.

“Where,” Yunho finally spluttered, “did you learn that?!”

“Changmin.” Jaejoong shrugged one shoulder, trailing kisses along Yunho’s jaw since he seemed determined to go on talking.

“Hang on,” Yunho put hands on either side of Jaejoong’s face to hold him still, “that didn’t explain anything! Stop trying to distract me.”

Jaejoong sighed and let Yunho push him down his back, and Yunho kept his hands pinning Jaejoong’s shoulders down to stop him from further distraction. “Well, you know how Yoochun likes to learn from watching Japanese television? And Junsu likes to listen to Japanese music?”

“Yes…” Yunho frowned, then groaned. “Oh no, porn!”

“Porn,” Jaejoong corrected him, getting both hands wrapped in the front of Yunho’s shirt and yanking him down. “It’s pretty good…except for the tentacles…”

“Stop, stop it,” Yunho laughed, pushing at Jaejoong’s hands. “That’s disgusting!”

“Oh, don’t act so righteous.” Jaejoong clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and raised an eyebrow. “After all, if you’re so pure, how did you know what I said?”

“Um,” answered Yunho, and Jaejoong grinned triumphantly before pressing his mouth to Yunho’s, cutting off further conversation in any language.

When they eventually returned to the group, relaxed and ready to go back to work, the others were looking a bit frazzled. Junsu wanted to know just what they’d been up to, so Jaejoong told him.

In Japanese.

“Where the hell did you learn that,” Yoochun spluttered, but everybody else was already looking at Changmin.

“What?” Changmin shrugged. “You told me to find an interest. And when exactly,” Changmin gave Jaejoong a long look up and down, “is my break?”

In the middle of the night, when thoughts of the next day’s performance or Changmin’s fight with the manager or Jaejoong’s sore knee sometimes kept Yunho awake, Yunho sometimes got up for a snack, or sometimes took a hot shower, or sometimes went to the living room to watch terrible television until he fell asleep on the couch and woke up with a sore neck.

And sometimes he stayed right where he was, feeling the rise and fall of Jaejoong’s chest against his back, the brush of Jaejoong’s piercings against his skin. And sometimes, even though they had to be up at the crack of dawn for dance practice, Yunho rolled over and pushed the sheets off them to run hands off all the places where his back had just been touching Jaejoong.

“Mmm, Yuuuuun,” Jaejoong mumbled, slapping a hand weakly against Yunho’s bicep. “Quit. Giving ‘it’ ideas.”

“It?” Yunho asked innocently bending to kiss Jaejoong’s collarbone while he tugged at his belly-button piercing with teasing fingers. “Have to be more specific, Jae boo.”

“Y’know.” Jaejoong finally cracked his eyes open, and the glimmer of sleepy brown made Yunho’s fingers curl a little. “It. About two inches south of where you’re teasing me?”

“Ah,” Yunho obligingly slid his hand down the aforementioned two inches, making Jaejoong groan. “It needs a cute nickname.”

“Does not.” Jaejoong slid fingers through Yunho’s hair, scratching at his scalp with the tips of his nails and giving him a not-very-subtle push downwards. “Not like it comes when you call.”

“Shows what you know,” Yunho smirked, then slid down until he could breathe “Hello there” right against Jaejoong’s cock, making it twitch and Jaejoong gasp. “See?”

“It’s very clever,” Jaejoong grunted, hitching himself up against the pillows for a better view. “We could call it the Choosey Lover.”

“Wouldn’t that be the least appropriate name ever,” Yunho murmured, brushing his cheek along Jaejoong’s length and giving him a grin that was mostly housed in his eyes.

“Maybe you aren’t giving it enough incentive to stay faithful.” Jaejoong tightened his grip in Yunho’s hair and shifted it over until his tip was brushing Yunho’s lips. “Maybe it’s tired of all your blather and wants a little action.”

Yunho was more than willing to give that a try, wrapping an arm underneath Jaejoong’s waist to help hold him steady, and using his other hand to go back to toying with his navel piercing. His own cock had gotten more than a few ideas by the time Jaejoong was begging him with half-groans of his name. Yunho hummed his approval of that, and Jaejoong’s back curled as he came over Yunho’s tongue.

“See?” Yunho asked, pulling away and running his tongue over his lower lip. “Definitely comes when I call.”

“Shut up,” Jaejoong mumbled, pulling Yunho up and snuggling against him, already falling back asleep. It was a good thing it only took half a dozen strokes of Jaejoong’s long, slender fingers to have Yunho coming as well, nose buried in the pillow-tangled hair curling over Jaejoong’s neck. “Go back to sleep.”

Sometimes when things kept Yunho awake in the middle of the night, curled around Jaejoong’s back and his nose pressed against the dark lines of Jaejoong’s tattoo, it was worth it.