maroonladybug (maroonladybug) wrote in homin_yongwonhi,

Title: Five Men and a Baby: Chapter 4
Author: maroonladybug
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: HoMin
Length: Approx.1,515
Disclaimer: I’m lazy so, if you want a proper disclaimer, click here
Warnings: mpreg, angst?, boys touching other boys (at some point), infrequent updating, distinct lack of beta,Yoochun smoking off-screen and blogs of doom.
Summary: Changmin gets Yunho preggers … shut up …
A/N: See the yuxo-ish (♥) note left at the bottom, please and thank you’s. This is dedicated to two people; kiri125 for dropping an aphid to remind me to update another story … which yes, inexplicably, lead to my updating this (:D) and of course fiat_amorfati who has sole claim on the plot. Sorry, love, there isn’t any knitting in this chapter.


It’s three more months before Yunho starts to really show, the small, nearly invisible lump, under his clothes morphing into a slightly larger bulge that at once baffles the entire music industry and every fan across the globe.

The blogs range from the petty - Yunho Oppa is getting fatttttt … TT^TT- to the concerned - Distended stomach, unnatural pallor and constant vomiting: it Jung Yunho suffering from malnutrition? and even though their manager says they can play it off for another week or two Jaejoong decides to broach the subject at dinner one night.

“Yunho, you’re starting to look like a cow.”

It’d been quite a feat to get everyone to sit down together for a meal, threats of castration thrown in alongside promises to stop stealing Yoochun’s clothes, and Jaejoong is quick to grimace when it seems that his comment is about to send everyone skittering to their relative corners of the house.

Then Yunho starts to laugh – it’s the first laugh Jaejoong has heard in much too long – and the hunted looks Junsu and Yoochun have been exchanging shift into tentative smiles.

The only person still silent, his eyes glued to the kimchee he’d been murdering for the past ten minutes, is Changmin and Jaejoong can’t even make himself care that he doesn’t have his dongsaeng’s attention.

“I have grown a bit, haven’t I?” Yunho leans back just enough in his chair to rub lovingly at his stomach.

After he’d stopped vomiting and questioning just how in the hell this had happened (“Why me of all people?”) he’d been quite happy to accept his pregnancy as something special. A miracle of sorts.

“Just a bit,” Yoochun says around a mouthful of golbi beef. Jaejoong rolls his eyes as the broken tension leaks away from the table at large only to reform in a six inch radius around Changmin.

“Yunho’s size aside we need to decide what to do about getting him out of the public eye.”

Junsu tilts his head to the side, thinking, as Jaejoong threads a hand through his hair and Yunho taps his fingers rhythmically against his abdomen.

Yoochun continues to stuff his face.

“I know,” Yoochun scoffs, but Junsu continues anyway, “Yunho can say he’s had a family emergency.”

“For the next four months?” Yoochun asks around his food, a smirk on his lips.

Jaejoong smiles widely at Yunho, “Don’t you have a sister who lives on the moon?”

Junsu’s indignant huff only makes everyone grin harder and Yoochun is almost positive that he sees the corners of Changmin’s lips twitch.

“How about a new desire to continue your education?” Jaejoong offers weakly even though he knows how much Yunho’s always hated the droll monotonous normality that is high school, “Maybe in the United States”

When Yunho’s face goes from unsure to are-you-fucking-kidding-me Jaejoong uses quite a few powers of deduction to figure that that option is out.

“We could tell the truth,” Jaejoong throws his chopsticks at Yoochun’s head even as he gives a disbelieving snort.

“Because pregnant men are normal, Mickey Mouse.”

Yoochun shrugs, “In America everything is normal. Don’t you watch Oprah?” No one bothers to mention that Yoochun hasn’t been to America in a number of years.

After Jaejoong has thrown Yunho’s chopsticks at Yoochun as well Changmin finally looks up from his plate and straight at Yunho, “You could pretend to get hurt.”

Yunho blinks, Jaejoong lifts a curious brow and Junsu stops trying to kill Yoochun for being stupid long enough for Jaejoong to lean curiously forward and onto his elbows, “What do you mean?”

Changmin glances around the table once and then continues, “Dancers get hurt often enough for no one to question whether or not it’s faked and if we do it right we’ll be able to stay out for the next six months or so.”

Junsu smiles at Yoochun who in turn pats Changmin’s hand with a knowing look in his eyes before starting in on Jaejoong’s forgotten rice.

Yunho’s hands are draped across his stomach, hope fluttering painfully in his chest at the we in Changmin’s proposal and, as though he can read minds, Jaejoong fixes Changmin with an unwavering look and asks, “We?”

Changmin nods, “We. It’ll take all of us to pull this off.” Then his old smirk is back and he’s adding, “Especially since none of you can lie for shit.” And though the underlying hurt, anger and confusion is still there the five of them have no trouble joking around and working together in the moment that it takes to come up with the perfect scheme.


Yunho is unsure of how to feel the next morning when the plan that Yoochun has dubbed The Great Fangirl Escape (the majority of the blogs were just getting downright ugly) is set to take place. Dance practice for their newest release was scheduled for way too early in the morning and by the time their first break rolled around Jae himself wished he could pretend to break something and earn himself a much-needed vacation.

The air of anticipation that pervades the entire dance studio when they finally come back -- from smoking (Yoochun), dramatically coughing up his lungs (Junsu) and talking in rushed whispers (the father to be, Changmin and Jaejoong) -- is thicker than the gauche atmosphere that had been so prevalent during the past five months in their apartment.

Though Jaejoong’d rolled the option of letting their manager in on their plan around on his tongue he’d opted not to after a disbelieving glance from Yoochun and a, “Now I’m positive that you were dropped at birth.”

The scuffle that had ended that particular conversation, the night before, could have been heard in Mexico and though Jaejoong hadn’t given up on the idea Yunho and Changmin had shown an oddly united front in trying to dissuade him throughout the day from, for once, doing the “right thing” and not giving him a heart attack.

Jaejoong finally nods in defeat, before finishing off his disgustingly green kelp smoothie, and heading back into the studio (where Junsu is giving Yoochun the cold shoulder), leaving Yunho and Changmin alone for the first time in what feels like forever.

Yunho, about to follow Jaejoong’s retreating back, is stopped short as a hand wraps tightly around his wrist, “Yunho-yah.”

And if that isn’t enough to send Yunho’s heart beating at about eighty thousand miles an hour then he doesn’t know what is.


Changmin isn’t quite sure what possessed him to grab hold of Yunho’s hand as the other man went to leave him, all alone in the middle of the empty hall, but now that he has Changmin knows it was a mistake.

The strong pulse of blood that Changmin can feel under his thumb is almost erotic, the quickening rhythm reminding him of the times when, pressed chest to chest and usually after a kiss gone harsh with need, he could feel Yunho’s heart beating alongside the cadence of his own.

When Yunho looks up from where Changmin’s tan fingers are marking a stark contrast against the pale inside of his arm, his skin tingling at the touch, the tension that they’d somehow done away with over the past twenty-four hours flitters back ten fold to settle irritatingly on his shoulders. It should be enough to keep Yunho’s body from swaying towards the heat and space Changmin is occupying but, somehow, it isn’t.


Yunho would like to believe that the soft whisper of his name is significant, the slight hitch in the words a promise, or even the apology he knows may never come, but, before he can lean that last, crucial, inch forward and test the consistency of it on his lips, Changmin is pulling away, his hand gone, even as he licks at the corners of his own mouth in something Yunho hasn’t gotten to experience firsthand in much too long, “Be careful, okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Yunho straightens himself forcefully and nods, the flush of embarrassment across the bridge of his nose only heightening when Changmin’s eyes travel once over his body and stop knowingly — disapprovingly? — over the bulge beneath Yunho’s shirt. He wants to scream, to hit something, to wring Changmin’s neck if it’ll just get those looks to stop, to get him to accept this new development in their relationship – if the tattered remains of what they have can even be called that -- however Yunho does nothing but gape when, instead of frowning or saying something hurtful and stupid, Changmin’s hand comes back to rest, almost defiantly, on the topmost curve of his abdomen, his eyes dark with an emotion Yunho couldn’t identify if he tried.

“Or the baby.”

The words are near silent, and just as fleeting as the touch of lips against the hot skin of his forehead and the final press of familiar hands against his child, but Yunho knows with a frightening clarity that they were spoken, even as Changmin walks stiffly into the studio and shuts the door behind him.


And that is all for this chapter ladies and gents … even though it isn’t so much a chapter as a titchy little thing that I should have written and posted a really long time ago. Also, alongside my profuse apologies and heartfelt adoration for those who haven’t completely given up hope on this damn story, I need a beta. Desperately. I re-read the first chapter, while I was stuck in a car for an ungodly amount of time a week ago, and was horrified with the sheer amount of ‘?!’s present. An editing was in order and I’ve recently changed it into something a tad less revolting but I am still beta-less and hence this really long note XD/DX … ummm … ♥ ?

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