Hyung, Sir, Choi Minho
;part 3
There was a knock on his door - unexpected, as it wasn't the end of the school day yet. Minho crossed his apartment to open it, dusting down his apron again as he went; he had been baking to congratulate Taemin on his results, no matter what his grades were. He figured the boy deserved that much.
Taemin stood outside, feet just on the edge of the doormat and tiptoeing up to pat Minho on the head as he edged around him to go in.
'Been baking again?'
'Yeah, for you.'
'Aww.' Taemin turns sharply to let Minho see the wicked grin on his face. 'You would make such a good housewife.'
'You're not getting cake.'
Taemin pouts; Minho tries not to fall for it. He fails.
'I was only complimenting you, hyung. You look pretty in that apron.'
He ignores Taemin and pulls at the apron string, throwing it haphazardly over a chair and walking into the living area to sit next to him.
Taemin calls after him. 'Fine, hyung. Eat all that cake. Remember, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. Especially yours.'
Minho acts mock outraged, planting his hands on his narrow hips and pretending to suck in his stomach. 'Are you calling me fat?'
'Why are you here so early, anyway?' he continues.
Taemin shrugs. 'I mitched at lunchtime. We got our results, so I figured I’ll come to see you.' He pulls a folded sheet of paper out of his blazer pocket, and tossed it into Minho's lap. 'Straight A's.'
Minho nearly tears the piece of paper when he unfolds it, his eyes eagerly scanning down the list of results.
Straight A's indeed.
He's ecstatic. It means that the cake he baked is a congratulations cake rather than a commiserations cake, and the fact that the little 'condition' he made - well, they both won.
'I’m so proud of you, Tae! See, all the time you spent revising paid off! And now-'
'You know all that time I spent revising, hyung?' His voice takes on a smooth, shimmering quality that Minho fails to take note of.
'Huh? Yeah, I do. I texted you a lot too, remember?'
'Well, I spent a lot of time doing something else.' His voice gets low and sinful and makes Minho pause in his breathing.
'What?'
'Mostly thinking about what I would do to you...after I got my results, of course. You gave me a lot of time to think about our 'condition'.'
'...really?' Minho had partly been joking when he had said that, assumed that maybe it would be a peck to the lips at the most, but he realised now - it was a bad thing to joke about something like that to Taemin.
And he looked at him - Taemin, with his eyes that were too dark for his face and his too-long fringe flopping impatiently down - that he didn't really mind at all. Taemin crawled to sit in his lap, and he wound his arms automatically around the younger boy's waist to keep him steady. He looked into those too-dark eyes, saw the greed in them as Taemin leant in to claim his prize.
There it is; the spark that was always there, now tickling the hairs on the back of their necks and buzzing between them and their lips and the centimetres of space that separated them.
They kiss breathlessly, clumsily. Slowly at first. Minho didn't know when they started or where they stopped because he was kissing Taemin and it didn't matter when he knocks his teeth against his own or the fact that Taemin's tongue is in his mouth and not the other way round. And he registers somewhere in the back of his mind that Taemin's hands are on his chest to push him back into the sofa, leading up to tangle in his hair and rest, as gently as the stars hanging up in the midnight sky on the back of his neck.
Taemin pulls back, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he spreads out his hands on Minho's chest like anorexic starfish. He lets the smile consume his face before he leans back down again, his tongue instantly sliding against Minho's lips and pressing against the roof of his mouth, slow and languid to say, I won and now there's nothing you can do. And Minho lets his breath come out hot and heavy, slipping his hands up and down the thin material of his shirt.
'Stop,' he breathes out against Taemin's lips, but he doesn't stop himself and he can feel Taemin's lips smile against his as he continues, incessantly kissing at the corner of his mouth. And he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Taemin's mouth, the younger letting him in as easily as silk on a summer's day. His taste is more concentrated; spearmint, a little bit of something golden like warm honey and something secret like the whispers in the night corner.
He pulls away eventually, floaters drifting in his peripheral vision that he thinks are really stars because he's never had them before, feeling a little dazed and trying to look at the stars that seem to fade away when he tries to look at them directly. Taemin lies down on him, adjusting his body and shifting himself so that his elbows dig the slightest bit into Minho's sides, enough for Minho to feel the points but not enough for it to be uncomfortable.
'I can hear your heart,' Taemin murmurs, and Minho can feel his voice vibrate to his chest so he thinks it must be true. He can also feel his heart thudding against his sternum, but that's another matter.
'Can't - breathe,' he gasps jokingly. 'Too - heavy.'
'Shut up, I’m not the one who ate all the cake.'
They fall silent after they laugh, Minho's hands still spread on Taemin's back. It's a nice sort of silence, the kind of hushed quiet you get in a library rather than the silence of a dentist waiting room.
'Was that really your first kiss?'
'Yeah. So?'
'Are you sure?'
Taemin laughs, pretending to bite the finger that Minho's pointing to him.
Am I that good?'
Minho edges away from the fact that the kiss seemed to set his insides all tingly and on fire.
'I thought you would be more inexperienced, that's all,' he says, poking fun at the boy.
'Well,' Taemin murmurs, his voice going all dark and melty again to match his eyes. 'I did take classes at school.'
'What?' Minho splutters.
'Chemistry classes,' Taemin says impishly. 'You know, with electrostatic attractions and polar bonds and what not.'
'Horrible joke,' he sighs, arms relaxing and simultaneously pulling Taemin closer to him.' 'Taemin humour.'
'You like my humour,' he protests, trying to wriggle away.
'Nope. I like you. Your humour I just put up with.'
He stops. 'Well, I guess that's acceptable then.'
A/N: hey this is only a freaking three months after the first part eeyyyy. no really it's horrible i should really do something about my time management
There was a knock on his door - unexpected, as it wasn't the end of the school day yet. Minho crossed his apartment to open it, dusting down his apron again as he went; he had been baking to congratulate Taemin on his results, no matter what his grades were. He figured the boy deserved that much.
Taemin stood outside, feet just on the edge of the doormat and tiptoeing up to pat Minho on the head as he edged around him to go in.
'Been baking again?'
'Yeah, for you.'
'Aww.' Taemin turns sharply to let Minho see the wicked grin on his face. 'You would make such a good housewife.'
'You're not getting cake.'
Taemin pouts; Minho tries not to fall for it. He fails.
'I was only complimenting you, hyung. You look pretty in that apron.'
He ignores Taemin and pulls at the apron string, throwing it haphazardly over a chair and walking into the living area to sit next to him.
Taemin calls after him. 'Fine, hyung. Eat all that cake. Remember, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. Especially yours.'
Minho acts mock outraged, planting his hands on his narrow hips and pretending to suck in his stomach. 'Are you calling me fat?'
'Why are you here so early, anyway?' he continues.
Taemin shrugs. 'I mitched at lunchtime. We got our results, so I figured I’ll come to see you.' He pulls a folded sheet of paper out of his blazer pocket, and tossed it into Minho's lap. 'Straight A's.'
Minho nearly tears the piece of paper when he unfolds it, his eyes eagerly scanning down the list of results.
Straight A's indeed.
He's ecstatic. It means that the cake he baked is a congratulations cake rather than a commiserations cake, and the fact that the little 'condition' he made - well, they both won.
'I’m so proud of you, Tae! See, all the time you spent revising paid off! And now-'
'You know all that time I spent revising, hyung?' His voice takes on a smooth, shimmering quality that Minho fails to take note of.
'Huh? Yeah, I do. I texted you a lot too, remember?'
'Well, I spent a lot of time doing something else.' His voice gets low and sinful and makes Minho pause in his breathing.
'What?'
'Mostly thinking about what I would do to you...after I got my results, of course. You gave me a lot of time to think about our 'condition'.'
'...really?' Minho had partly been joking when he had said that, assumed that maybe it would be a peck to the lips at the most, but he realised now - it was a bad thing to joke about something like that to Taemin.
And he looked at him - Taemin, with his eyes that were too dark for his face and his too-long fringe flopping impatiently down - that he didn't really mind at all. Taemin crawled to sit in his lap, and he wound his arms automatically around the younger boy's waist to keep him steady. He looked into those too-dark eyes, saw the greed in them as Taemin leant in to claim his prize.
There it is; the spark that was always there, now tickling the hairs on the back of their necks and buzzing between them and their lips and the centimetres of space that separated them.
They kiss breathlessly, clumsily. Slowly at first. Minho didn't know when they started or where they stopped because he was kissing Taemin and it didn't matter when he knocks his teeth against his own or the fact that Taemin's tongue is in his mouth and not the other way round. And he registers somewhere in the back of his mind that Taemin's hands are on his chest to push him back into the sofa, leading up to tangle in his hair and rest, as gently as the stars hanging up in the midnight sky on the back of his neck.
Taemin pulls back, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he spreads out his hands on Minho's chest like anorexic starfish. He lets the smile consume his face before he leans back down again, his tongue instantly sliding against Minho's lips and pressing against the roof of his mouth, slow and languid to say, I won and now there's nothing you can do. And Minho lets his breath come out hot and heavy, slipping his hands up and down the thin material of his shirt.
'Stop,' he breathes out against Taemin's lips, but he doesn't stop himself and he can feel Taemin's lips smile against his as he continues, incessantly kissing at the corner of his mouth. And he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Taemin's mouth, the younger letting him in as easily as silk on a summer's day. His taste is more concentrated; spearmint, a little bit of something golden like warm honey and something secret like the whispers in the night corner.
He pulls away eventually, floaters drifting in his peripheral vision that he thinks are really stars because he's never had them before, feeling a little dazed and trying to look at the stars that seem to fade away when he tries to look at them directly. Taemin lies down on him, adjusting his body and shifting himself so that his elbows dig the slightest bit into Minho's sides, enough for Minho to feel the points but not enough for it to be uncomfortable.
'I can hear your heart,' Taemin murmurs, and Minho can feel his voice vibrate to his chest so he thinks it must be true. He can also feel his heart thudding against his sternum, but that's another matter.
'Can't - breathe,' he gasps jokingly. 'Too - heavy.'
'Shut up, I’m not the one who ate all the cake.'
They fall silent after they laugh, Minho's hands still spread on Taemin's back. It's a nice sort of silence, the kind of hushed quiet you get in a library rather than the silence of a dentist waiting room.
'Was that really your first kiss?'
'Yeah. So?'
'Are you sure?'
Taemin laughs, pretending to bite the finger that Minho's pointing to him.
Am I that good?'
Minho edges away from the fact that the kiss seemed to set his insides all tingly and on fire.
'I thought you would be more inexperienced, that's all,' he says, poking fun at the boy.
'Well,' Taemin murmurs, his voice going all dark and melty again to match his eyes. 'I did take classes at school.'
'What?' Minho splutters.
'Chemistry classes,' Taemin says impishly. 'You know, with electrostatic attractions and polar bonds and what not.'
'Horrible joke,' he sighs, arms relaxing and simultaneously pulling Taemin closer to him.' 'Taemin humour.'
'You like my humour,' he protests, trying to wriggle away.
'Nope. I like you. Your humour I just put up with.'
He stops. 'Well, I guess that's acceptable then.'
A/N: hey this is only a freaking three months after the first part eeyyyy. no really it's horrible i should really do something about my time management