glitterburn
Summary: Changmin likes running. Particularly when he's being chased.
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Changmin runs.
He hadn't even been aware of this... this thing, whatever it is—kink, need, massive fucking turn-on—until earlier this evening when they were filming the Running Man episode as part of their comeback. Dressed in high-collared satin opera cloaks and sporting Phantom of the Opera masks, they'd wandered around the theatre in search of the little gold balls that would eliminate their hosts from the game. Yunho loved it, because he's secretly five years old, but Changmin found it stupid and embarrassing.
Or at least he had, right up until the moment when he'd almost been caught, when he hid in the box office and panted and shivered at how close he'd come to being unmasked, and adrenalin had surged through him, giving him the kind of endorphin high he used to get from being on stage.
It got better, too. He'd gone out and circled around the foyer with the other masked guests, and he'd flirted with the danger of discovery, heart pounding, a jittery thrill churning his stomach and blocking his throat. When the Commander had suspected him, he'd kept a straight face, managed to stifle the heave of excitement, and then he ran. Oh, how he ran.
The Commander chased him up the stairs, along hallways, and Changmin had given him the slip, cut backstage where he thought he was safe, but then the Commander had flung himself from his hiding place and Changmin had run again, tried desperately to escape, but he was breathless and his limbs were weak and he was on the verge of hysteria even as arousal curled through him. As he tried to flee, he tangled his feet in his cloak and fell. The Commander tackled him, and Changmin yelped and struggled and rolled up into a ball, laughing and laughing until he felt sick with it, and he hoped his captor wouldn't notice how stupidly turned on he was.
The Commander didn't notice, but Yunho did. Of course he did. He always notices things like that—embarrassing things, things that make Changmin squirm—he notices and then he takes that knowledge and twists it and unleashes it upon Changmin when they're alone.
Like now.
They get home, both of them tired after several hours of filming, and Yunho is all sweet and solicitous, helping Changmin with his coat and even lining up their shoes on the rack beside the front door. Then he asks if Changmin wants a drink to help him sleep and offers to make hot chocolate. This should ring warning bells—Yunho's attempts at making bedtime drinks usually end with chocolate powder spilled over the counter and the stench of burned milk emanating from the microwave—but Changmin is exhausted and still flinchy-touchy after the chase, and he just wants to be cosseted.
"Sit down, Changminnie," Yunho says, and goes into the kitchen.
Changmin sinks onto the sofa with relief. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to exorcise the memory of how it felt to be pursued, and then he hears a soft footfall behind him and he knows Yunho is standing there.
He wants to ask where his drink is, wants to make some sarcastic comment about Yunho being unable to boil water, but he can't see him, because Yunho is standing right behind him. He can only hear, and then Yunho leans down and says, low and soft and directly into Changmin's ear, "Do you like being chased?"
The strangest sensation goes through him. Cold, then hot. Changmin tries not to move, tries not to react in any way, and says, "No."
Silence, and then Yunho breathes out one word: "Liar."
"No," Changmin says again, but there's that squiggling bubble of hysteria building up again, and when Yunho clamps a hand on his shoulder, Changmin bolts from the couch and is across the other side of the room before he even knows what he's doing. At bay, he turns and stares at Yunho, who's wearing a dangerous, glittering smile.
