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It’s movie night at the Super Junior dorm. Ten members are piled in the living room: Kangin, Sungmin, Yesung, and Ryeowook on one couch and Siwon, Hangeng, and Kibum on the other; Donghae and Henry are sprawled on the floor, Donghae at Kibum’s feet. (As for the other five members: Leeteuk is out getting their dinner, Eunhyuk and Shindong are tied up at some radio show, and Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun are out shopping.) They’re all waiting for Heechul, who promised he had a movie they’d all really enjoy, to return. Henry hopes it’s not another Disney princess movie.
Heechul comes bounding into the room with a huge grin on his face—that’s enough to make Hangeng suspicious. “Here it is, the perfect movie!” he says, practically bouncing as he puts the tape in the VCR and searches around in the entertainment center for the corresponding remote.
“You guys still have a VCR?” Henry says, looking inquisitively at Donghae.
Donghae shrugs. “All our Disney movies are on VHS.”
“I should’ve known.”
“Yah, no one cares about Canada, Henry,” Heechul mutters as he fiddles with the found remote.
“I wasn’t even talking ab—”
“No one cares!”
“I care about Canada, Henry,” Donghae says. “I love beavers. And maple syrup!”
Henry sighs.
“Everyone needs to focus their attention on the television now!” Heechul commands. “This movie is from China and—”
“But Hyung, you wouldn’t watch any of the Chinese movies I tried to show you,” Hangeng points out reasonably. He’s getting more and more suspicious of this “perfect movie” of Heechul’s.
“Well, this one’s different. I think you’ll all find it very… eye-opening.” He grabs the remote and squeezes in between Hangeng and Kibum on the couch. Kibum, who is reading, shuffles closer to the arm of the couch and focuses very hard on the words on the page; Heechul looks way too giddy for this end well.
“Showtime!” Heechul cackles as he presses play.
A dimly lit hotel room appears on the screen. The frame wobbles and Zhou Mi’s smiling face comes into view, much too close to the lens. There are sounds of the camera being moved and then the shot is of Kyuhyun, who is sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“Hyung…?” Hangeng says slowly, turning wide eyes on Heechul. Heechul cackles again.
“What’s going on?” Henry asks, rolling onto his side to look questioningly at the members behind him. He must have missed some sort of important Korean custom or something, because this is just… not normal. Ryeowook shrugs. Sungmin and Yesung don’t say a word; their eyes are glued to the screen. Kangin says, “I have no fucking clue, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to call Leeteuk soon.”
“Don’t you dare!” Heechul cries. Siwon and Hangeng have to hold him down to bar him from crawling across the length of two couches to take Kangin’s phone away from him. Kibum doesn’t look up from his book. Henry gives up on getting an explanation and turns back to the screen just as he hears Kyuhyun say, “Are we really doing this?”
“Yes. Come on, we’re the only ones who are ever going to see this,” Zhou Mi says soothingly, somewhere out of frame.
Heechul cackles yet again.
“Did you steal this?” Siwon gasps, outraged.
“I found it.”
“He stole it,” Hangeng says, because he knows Heechul most certainly “found” it in one of Zhou Mi’s locked drawers.
Zhou Mi comes back into the frame, adjusts the camera once more, and then stands in front of the bed so his side and part of his back are facing the screen. His face isn’t visible from the camera angle, but Kyuhyun’s is and he suddenly smiles, a little nervously.
“What do you want me to do?” Zhou Mi asks, voice low.
Kyuhyun’s smile turns into a smirk. “Take your clothes off.”
Donghae answers Henry’s previous question: “It’s a sex tape, Henry.”
“It’s a sex tape!” Heechul crows immediately after, nearly hitting Hangeng in the face in his excitement.
“Someone cover Henry’s eyes!” Kangin laughs.
“I’ll just go gouge them out, thanks.” Henry gets up to do just that, but Donghae grabs his hand and pulls him back down; the feel of Donghae’s warm fingers encircling his wrist at a time like this is enough to make his body flush with heat.
“Hyung, let me go!” he says, trying not to blush.
Donghae giggles. “Henry, look. Zhou Mi’s stripping.”
Zhou Mi is, indeed, stripping. He shrugs his shirt, now fully unbuttoned, from his shoulders, revealing the smooth, pale expanse of his back to the camera. He laughs and throws it at Kyuhyun, who catches it and tosses it aside. “Pants,” he demands, eyes darkening.
“Okay, this is a major invasion of privacy and I, for one—”
“Shut up, Siwon.”
To everyone’s surprise, it’s Sungmin, not Heechul, who spoke. “What?” he says in response to all the incredulous faces. “I’ve always wanted to see Kyuhyun naked.”
“Me too,” echoes the entire room.
“Wow,” Henry says into the awkward silence, “I knew you were all gay.”
“You said it too!” Donghae says, pointing an accusatory finger at Henry.
Henry blushes. “Yeah, well—I,” he stammers.
“No one cares about Henry’s virginal wet dreams about Kyuhyun!” Heechul snaps, “Or Siwon’s disapproval. I have heard that song way too many times. Let’s focus on the big picture, shall we? That being: Zhou Mi is pantsless.”
Zhou Mi is pantsless, his long legs bared for the camera. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his tight-fitting boxer briefs (pink, of course) and tugs them down just enough to reveal the sharp dip of his hipbones, a peek of dark brown hair.
“Take them off!” Heechul yells.
“Take them off,” Kyuhyun whispers a second after.
Hangeng raises an eyebrow at Heechul. “How many times have you seen this?”
“A few.”
“Do I really have to be here for this?” Siwon asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as, on screen, Zhou Mi drags his long fingers teasingly over the bulge in his underwear. The definition of the picture is clear enough to see Zhou Mi’s restrained cock hardening beneath his touch.
“Come on, Siwon. Even Kibum’s here!” Yesung says.
“He’s reading!”
“He’s here. That’s all that matters.”
“Look,” Sungmin says, breathless.
Zhou Mi is naked. The room falls silent.
“He has a really nice ass,” Ryeowook observes. Only Henry is surprised by this, and by the subsequent murmurs of agreement.
“Things like this don’t ever happen in Canada,” he mutters, mostly to himself.
“Sounds boring,” Sungmin says.
Kyuhyun leans forward, his eyes roving languidly up and down Zhou Mi’s body. Zhou Mi shifts so his body is turned a bit more towards the camera and wraps a hand around his erection, rubs his thumb against the already glistening head. Kyuhyun licks his lips.
“Is anyone covering Henry’s eyes?” Kangin asks distractedly. “Leeteuk will kill me if he finds out I let Henry watch this.”
“Shut up, I’m old enough to watch porn,” Henry says, then wonders how he got from wanting to blind himself to actively arguing for his right to watch Zhou Mi jerk himself off. His life is so weird in Korea.
“Kibummie,” Donghae says, tugging on Kibum’s pant leg. “Kibummie, don’t you want to see Zhou Mi’s cock? It’s big.”
“I can’t say that I do,” Kibum says without looking up. He turns a page in his book.
Donghae pouts, but his disappointment is quickly forgotten when Kyuhyun, who was slowly rubbing his erection through his jeans earlier, scrambles out of his sitting position and starts crawling on all fours towards Zhou Mi. Smiling up at him, all wicked promise, Kyuhyun rests back on his heels, puts his hands on Zhou Mi’s skinny hips, and tugs him forward until Zhou Mi’s knees hit the mattress. Kyuhyun crooks a finger and Zhou Mi climbs up onto the bed, kneeling in front of Kyuhyun. They stare at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily while everyone watching barely breathes at all.
Kyuhyun says something in fluid Chinese and Zhou Mi moans. Kyuhyun then grabs Zhou Mi by the shoulders and pins him to the mattress, straddling him so no part of his body is touching Zhou Mi’s cock.
“Wow, Kyuhyun knows really dirty words in Chinese,” Hangeng says dazedly.
“What’d he say? WHAT’D HE SAY?!” Heechul demands shrilly. He crawls into Hangeng’s lap and shakes him by the front of his shirt.
“The closest meaning in Korean would be, ‘I’m going to suck your cock until you come screaming my name.’”
Everyone in the room lets out a sigh or a moan, or something in between.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Heechul says reverently.
Kyuhyun tugs his shirt off over his head and throws it on the ground, presses Zhou Mi down into the pillows and kisses him with such fervor that their teeth clack together. They kiss for a good minute, Kyuhyun’s fingers combing through Zhou Mi’s hair as he does things with his tongue that Zhou Mi very vocally approves of.
“Wait,” Zhou Mi breathes out.
Sungmin curses. “No, no waiting!”
“Wait,” Zhou Mi says again, “Go move the camera over there.” He points somewhere out of frame.
Kyuhyun stares at him. “Zhou Mi, are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Please, Kyuhyun,” he begs, eyelids lowered and tone suggestive.
Kyuhyun sighs. “Fine, okay. Pervert.” Zhou Mi grins and instructs Kyuhyun further as to where to relocate the camera. Kyuhyun walks over to the camera, grumbling under his breath all the while, and everyone in the room (even Kibum) stares at the hard line of his cock shifting in his jeans. The shot moves from Zhou Mi on the bed to the floor to a side wall to the ceiling, and then Kyuhyun sets it down on a surface that is almost directly horizontal to the length of the bed.
“Wait—wait, I recognize that picture on the wall. That… that was from— oh my god. Did they do this in the hotel room in Beijing when I was sleeping in the room next door?” Hangeng cries, outraged.
“Well, that explains those noises we heard, Henry,” Donghae says.
“Kyuhyun was making those noises?” Henry breathes, astonished. Okay, he is way too turned on right now to be wearing loose sweatpants and no underwear in a room with nine other boys.
“Just keep watching, Henry,” Heechul says wickedly, “Kyuhyun makes the hottest sex noises I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?” Ryeowook asks quietly, eyes wide.
“He could be a goddamn porn star,” Heechul says seriously. “And the greatest part is? He’s not faking it like the porn stars do. Zhou Mi really fucks him that good.”
“What is wrong with you?” Siwon asks, furrowing his impressive brow in Heechul’s direction.
“What?”
“You know what!”
“Everybody shut up!” Yesung snaps. Everybody does.
Kyuhyun is back on the bed now. The camera is flawlessly centered on the both of them from the side, far enough away to show the entire length of their long, lean bodies. Kyuhyun crawls up Zhou Mi’s body to give him a quick kiss on the lips, and then slides back down. He places his hands on Zhou Mi’s thighs and pushes lightly until Zhou Mi spreads his legs wide enough for Kyuhyun to settle between them.
“Shit,” Donghae breathes, scooting closer to the screen.
Kyuhyun licks his lips again, enough to get them visibly wet, and leans down until his mouth is only a few inches from Zhou Mi’s cock. He hovers there.
“Come on,” Zhou Mi urges, wriggling his hips.
“Yeah, come on,” Ryeowook says huskily.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Kyuhyun scolds, playfully slapping Zhou Mi’s thigh.
“But Kui Xian, your mouth feels so good on me. I love when you get me off with your tongue. This time, though, you need to get my cock nice and wet so I can flip you over and open you up and fuck you for the camera. Don’t you want that, Kui Xian?” Zhou Mi coaxes, voice smooth and eyes smoldering.
“God, you’re such a pervert,” Kyuhyun snorts, but he sounds out of breath.
“I still can’t believe this was Zhou Mi’s idea,” Kangin wonders aloud, “He always seemed so innocent.”
“So did Ryeowook,” Yesung says.
“Good point.”
“What're you gonna do?” Ryeowook shrugs. “The fangirls like them innocent and virginal.”
“Why don’t they like Henry, then?” Heechul snickers.
“Shut uuuup, hyung,” Henry whines. “I am not a virgin.”
“You’re not?” Donghae turns to him, eyes bright. His smile is making Henry nervous.
“Um, no,” Henry says, and then looks resolutely away.
Donghae scoots closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Was it a guy or a girl?”
Henry starts. “Girl,” he answers automatically.
“Oh.” Donghae’s face falls.
“But I’ve been with a guy, too,” he adds, although he doesn’t, for the life of him, know why; this situation is embarrassing enough already without having everyone in Super Junior know about his first homosexual experience.
“Oh!” Donghae says, his smile returning, then, “Oh, look.”
Kyuhyun has one hand encircling the base of Zhou Mi’s cock, the other on his hip to hold him steady, and is flicking his tongue in teasing swipes against the leaking head. Everyone (including Kibum) watches with wide eyes. He wraps his lips around the head and sucks for a moment before pulling back off; Zhou Mi groans. Kyuhyun pumps the length in his fist until Zhou Mi’s hips jerk, until more precome appears at the tip. He smiles at Zhou Mi as he licks it off.
“Stop teasing and suck it for real,” Yesung demands, voice low. There are murmurs of agreement.
“Do you want me to swallow it?” Kyuhyun asks, pressing an openmouthed kiss to the side of Zhou Mi’s cock.
“Did… did he just say ‘swallow’?” Sungmin chokes out.
“Yes,” Heechul nods, his smile devious. “Watch.”
“Please, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi moans.
“Well, since you begged so nicely.” Kyuhyun smiles again, lowers himself back down. He opens his mouth and takes Zhou Mi’s cock in two thirds of the way in one go; removes his hand from the base of Zhou Mi’s cock and puts it on Zhou Mi’s other hip to hold him down more firmly. Then he winks at Zhou Mi, who is already panting, breathes in through his nose, and sinks all the way down. His lips touch the base and immediately he swallows, his throat working around Zhou Mi’s thick erection. Zhou Mi lets out a strangled moan.
Kyuhyun swallows again.
“Stop!” Zhou Mi gasps. “Stop Kui Xian, I’m going to come. ”
Kyuhyun carefully pulls back until Zhou Mi’s cock slips out of his mouth with a wet sound. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Should I take my pants off now?”
“Definitely. God, how do you do that?”
“Honestly, I don’t think I have a gag reflex,” Kyuhyun answers matter-of-factly as he unzips his jeans.
Sungmin lets out a shaky moan, his fingernails digging into Kangin’s skin so deep that Kangin winces. He’s been mindlessly squeezing Kangin’s arm for the last ten minutes to stop himself from unzipping his jeans and jerking himself off right here, in front of everybody. He tries to shift so his cock isn’t pressing so uncomfortably into the zip of his fly, but he just ends up causing more friction and making it worse.
Yesung has forgone all propriety and is rubbing himself through his sweatpants. Ryeowook is the only one who notices; everyone else is too busy staring at the television, where Kyuhyun is pushing his jeans down and struggling to kick them off in his haste, his erection tenting his boxers. Kibum has lowered his book and is actually watching now, instead of just sneaking in quick glances over the pages. He blames his curious nature.
Henry tries to inconspicuously put his hands in his lap to cover his very obvious hard on, but Donghae sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and whips his head around to stare intensely at Henry. His eyes linger on Henry’s face for a moment and then travel down to settle on Henry’s hands, which are not doing a very good job of hiding his… problem.
“Are you hard, Henry?” Donghae asks, even though knows the answer; he can very plainly see the answer.
Henry doesn’t answer, just stares down at the carpet and feels his cheeks warm.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed—everyone else is, too,” Donghae purrs, scooting closer to Henry.
“I’m not,” Siwon says self-righteously.
“Oh fuck you, yes you are,” Heechul retorts, indignant. He rolls his eyes and leans over Hangeng to palm Siwon’s cock through his pajama pants. Siwon yelps, then moans when Heechul starts rubbing.
“Um, hello?” Hangeng says, gesturing at the very large bulge in his pants.
“I’ll get to you later,” Heechul promises, eyes glinting.
“See, I told you,” Donghae whispers, adjusting his own erection. Henry can’t stop himself from staring. He’s not sure how didn’t notice it before, seeing as it’s kind of fucking spectacular and Henry wants nothing more than to get his mouth on it. I hate Korea, he thinks, groaning inwardly.
“Oh god,” Kyuhyun moans, and Henry’s eyes snap back to the screen. He obviously missed something, because Kyuhyun’s now naked and has two fingers slick with lube shoved inside himself. Zhou Mi’s propped up on his elbows watching him pump them in and out, in and out. Kyuhyun moans again and pushes them in deeper, pulls them out and presses back in with a third.
“I knew Kyuhyun bottomed,” Kangin says, then lets out a heavy sigh; he promised himself he'd contact Leeteuk if there was penetration. Heechul is too busy torturing Siwon to notice him pulling his phone out. Everyone else on the couch with him notices, however, and soon they all have their phones out and are vigorously texting. In no time at all everyone has their phones out and Heechul is yelling, “If anyone tells Leeteuk what is going on I will kill them!”
“Already did,” Kangin says.
“Goddamn it!” Heechul cries. He abandons Siwon to furiously send a text that will, hopefully, counteract Kangin’s.
When Kyuhyun lowers himself down onto Zhou Mi’s cock in one smooth movement, the phones are instantly forgotten.
“Oh, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi moans, his hips bucking up into Kyuhyun.
Kyuhyun bites his lip and lifts himself up on shaky legs, and then slides unsteadily back down. Zhou Mi grabs his hips and helps him move. Soon enough he’s riding Zhou Mi’s cock in earnest, his breath coming in pants and his erection bouncing against his taut stomach.
“Fuck,” Henry breathes in English. His fingers are twitching from the effort of keeping them out of his pants.
Kyuhyun cries out desperately when Zhou Mi pulls him off his cock and manhandles him onto all fours.
“You’re so fucking hot like this, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi breathes, slipping his fingers into Kyuhyun’s slick entrance. Kyuhyun moans, arches his spine and fucks himself back onto Zhou Mi’s fingers. “Come on, fuck me, Mi,” he whines, “Stop teasing and fuck me.” Zhou Mi doesn’t listen; instead, he presses his fingers in deeper and hits something that makes Kyuhyun wail; rubs against it with his fingertips until Kyuhyun whimpers.
“Please," Kyuhyun says.
“Do you want it?” Zhou Mi asks, voice raw as he ever-so-lightly presses the head of his cock against Kyuhyun’s hole.
“No, I don’t,” Kyuhyun bites out sarcastically. "Of course I do, fuck me already.”
“If you say so," Zhou Mi laughs. He smiles, puts a steadying hand on Kyuhyun’s hip, and thrusts all the way in in one stroke. Kyuhyun chokes on the air he was breathing. “Yes,” he moans. Zhou Mi starts out slow, obviously trying to get Kyuhyun riled up. And sure enough, in no time Kyuhyun is slamming himself back onto Zhou Mi’s cock and cursing at him to go faster. Zhou Mi does at he's told. Kyuhyun spreads his knees as wide as they’ll go, sinks down onto the bed until his face is pressed against the mattress and moans continuously as Zhou Mi pounds into him. The sounds of skin slapping on skin are inordinately loud in the nearly-silent room (silent but for some vigorous rubbing noises and a few poorly-concealed groans).
Zhou Mi pulls out of him and Kyuhyun gasps, “What are you doing?”
“Don’t be so impatient,” Zhou Mi says. He grabs Kyuhyun by the waist and flips him over onto his back, lifts him up by his knees so his hips are off the bed. Kyuhyun wraps his legs around Zhou Mi’s neck and locks his ankles together. Zhou Mi thrusts straight back into him, without warning, and Kyuhyun lets out a high-pitched noise that Henry’s heard before.
“That’s the noise,” Henry whispers, and Donghae nods at him, a little frantically.
“It’s like he’s not even trying to keep it down,” Hangeng complains; he’s still a little miffed about where they filmed this.
“Henry,” Donghae says, voice soft and close to Henry’s ear. Henry flinches. “Henry, you’re not wearing any underwear, are you?”
Henry shakes his head. Wondering what prompted that question, he looks down and realizes that there’s a dark spot on his light grey sweatpants where the head of his cock is straining against the fabric. He looks back up and meets Donghae’s eyes, which are darker than Henry’s ever seen them. Henry fidgets. Donghae’s staring at him like he wants to eat him and he can see Kyuhyun getting fucked out of the corner of his eye and he’s so hard, and he really misses Canada, where nothing like this ever happens.
---
Leeteuk is about a half mile from the dorm, bags full of their dinner in hand, when he receives ten text messages in rapid succession. The first five are all some variation of, “KYUHYUN BOTTOMS LOL”; Leeteuk raises his eyebrows at that and feels himself start to panic, just a little. The sixth is from Donghae. It says: “boom city ^^”. A nonsensical text from Donghae—that’s comfortingly ordinary. The seventh, from Kibum, says, “It was nice being in Super Junior. I’m going to America and never coming back.” That one is also not very alarming; Kibum sends him that text at least once a month. However, the eighth text is from Henry, and it’s in English; that’s when he really starts panicking. The ninth text brings all the ridiculous pieces of this puzzle together:
FROM: kim youngwoon (korea #1 sexy guy)
Hyung, there’s……..there’s a sex tape situation. You just… you need to come home. I can’t handle this on my own. Come home. NOW!!!!!
Leeteuk nearly drops his phone. He stares at the message for a good thirty seconds, mouth agape, and then makes a mad dash for the dorms. He doesn’t get a chance to read the text from Heechul that says, “DO NOT BELIEVE A WORD OF WHAT KANGIN SAYS HE’S DELIRIOUS BLOWJOBS ARE NOT IMMINENT.”
---
“Did you just get a text from Donghae that said “boom city”?”
“Yes,” Zhou Mi says, staring curiously at his phone. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“How the fuck should I know? It’s Donghae.”
“Point.”
“I’m going to text him back and ask him why he’s so—holy crap,” Kyuhyun says as his phone buzzes over and over, new windows of “You have a message from [insert name here]. Would you like to view it now?” popping up one on top of the other. Kyuhyun gapes at his phone.
“Um,” Zhou Mi says.
“I just got texts from practically everyone. Simultaneously.”
“Kyuhyun.”
“What the fuck Henry, you know I can’t read English.”
“Kyuhyun.”
“What, Zhou Mi?” Kyuhyun asks, exasperated.
Zhou Mi holds out his phone. The touch screen is displaying a picture of… of—
Kyuhyun leans forward across the table as calmly as he can in this situation so as not to draw attention to himself, which is not that calmly, and hisses in Zhou Mi’s ear, “Is that a picture of us fucking? On your phone? Have I not sufficiently warned you about the fangirls?”
Zhou Mi opens his mouth to say something, but Kyuhyun cuts him off with, “Wait, let me see that,” and snatches Zhou Mi’s phone away from him. Carefully shielding the screen with hunched shoulders and well-placed arms, he cocks his head to one side and turns the phone to the other as he narrows his eyes. “How… how did you take this from this angle?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I didn’t. Heechul sent that to me.”
Kyuhyun drops the phone and it thunks on the table. “What.”
“Yeah.”
Kyuhyun picks his phone back up, brows furrowed, and opens all those text messages he ignored before. His jaw drops lower with each text he opens; Zhou Mi is having a similar reaction opposite him. They look up at each other when they’re finished, matching expressions of horror on their faces.
“I am going to strangle Heechul,” Kyuhyun says, his voice frighteningly even. He grabs Zhou Mi and drags him out of the café. Zhou Mi is too intimidated by the murder in Kyuhyun’s eyes to say anything, even to agree. Idly, he thinks that Kyuhyun looks really hot when he’s angry.
Just then, the door opens so hard it slams into the wall. Everyone in the room jumps. Leeteuk comes barreling in, drops his bags on the floor with little regard for the safety of their dinner, and dives in front of the television. “What the fuck is going on here?” he yells. “Heechul, turn this off. Kangin, I cannot believe you let them watch this, especially—oh my god, Henry! Donghae, what are you doing, get your mouth away from Henry’s crotch this instant!” Leeteuk shrieks, high-pitched and hysterical.
Donghae sits back with a sheepish grin. Henry groans, disappointed.
“Later,” Donghae whispers to him with a wink. Henry’s cock twitches at the thought.
“Aish, come on,” Heechul whines, clutching the remote close to his chest. “It’s almost over!”
“No! Should I list all the reasons why? One, you stole Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi’s personal, private property. Two, you decided to watch said personal, private property in the living room where you all know a camera crew could burst in to start the filming of a new reality series at any moment. Don’t look at me like that— it’s happened before! Three, you—you… is that Kyuhyun making those noises?” Leeteuk says, astonished, as he turns to look at the television. “Wow,” he breathes, eyes widening, “I didn’t know he could bend like that.” His mouth falls open as he stares at Kyuhyun writhing on the screen, momentarily dazed by the constant stream of desperate gasps. He shakes his head to clear it of such uncouth thoughts as, Oh god yes, fuck him harder, and presses the power button on the television.
The screen fades to black. The room falls silent.
“So, this is awkward,” Henry says after a moment.
“That’s why you don’t watch your friends’ sex tapes!” Leeteuk screams, trying very hard to maintain some level of calm.
“Huh, the door’s already open,” Zhou Mi says from out in the hallway.
Everyone slowly turns to look in the direction of his voice, their eyes wide with dread. Any erections they may have had wilt instantly.
Kyuhyun stomps through the doorway and snarls, “Where the fuck is Heechul, that goddamn son of a bi—” He stops short when he realizes that the room is full of people who are all staring at him in that way you stare at someone after you’ve seen them naked. His anger drains away and is replaced shortly after by the worst embarrassment he’s ever experienced (and that’s saying a lot, considering the life he lives). He groans, hides his face in Zhou Mi’s shoulder, and mumbles a muffled, “Fuck my life.”
“It’s okay,” Zhou Mi murmurs as he runs a comforting hand through Kyuhyun’s hair, “I’ll kill them all for you.”
“Heechul first,” Kyuhyun says.
“Heechul first,” Zhou Mi repeats.
The glare Zhou Mi sends his way is so intense that, for a split-second, Heechul is afraid he’s actually going to die.
“No killing, please,” Leeteuk says weakly. He feels a bit like he’s going to pass out. As the leader, he prides himself on knowing how to handle any sort of confrontation between his band mates. But, this? Was not in his fucking contract.
“We’re sorry, Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi,” Donghae says, his bottom lip trembling.
There are more scattered apologies here and there, some of them sincere and some… not so much; Heechul’s is one of the not-so-much ones. Kibum is pretending to read again while he silently wishes someone will punch Heechul in the face. Not because he has any malicious feelings towards Heechul, but just because he thinks it’d be really funny.
When everyone’s done apologizing, Kyuhyun lifts his head from Zhou Mi’s shoulder and takes a deep breath. “Alright, well,” he says, “we’ll be in my room waiting for each and every one of you to make it up to us. If I don’t die from embarrassment first, that is.” Without meeting anyone’s eyes, he grabs Zhou Mi by the wrist and tugs him into his room. Zhou Mi glares at all of them one last time before slamming the door.
Hangeng smacks Heechul upside the head. “Nice job, Heechul.”
Heechul yelps and slaps Hangeng back. “Oh, whatever. Fuck you guys! You all watched it!”
Well, they can’t really argue with that. No one quite knows what to do next.
“Should we… rewind it and give it back?” Ryeowook asks uncertainly.
Fortunately, the decision is made for them when Zhou Mi walks out of Kyuhyun’s room, presses the “eject” button on the VCR, and snaps the tape in half.
“Kyuhyun would like you all to know that he prefers dark chocolate to milk. He also wants the latest version of Starcraft, which isn’t in stores yet. Good luck finding it. I, on the other hand, will not forgive so easily. You’d better watch your backs, fuckers,” he says, his tone dangerous as he makes a threatening I’m watching you gesture eleven times over. The door to Kyuhyun’s room slams shut again.
“I still thought it was a good movie,” Heechul grumbles under his breath.