Dial A Dom - An Idea
So I have a lot of ideas swimming around in the crashing waters of my imagination but none of them is really gelling all that well or bobbing up to the surface. I did a little writing exercise tonight and this is what came out. 900 plus words of... I don't even know. The picture that I'm referring to is this one, only he's wearing the sexy ripped jeans rather than the pants in the pic here.
I have *another* idea around this same outfit where Taemin hits on Onew in a club. I'm so confused!
Anyhoo, if you wouldn't mind, just let me know if this sounds promising or stupid or what?
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From the second that Taemin lays eyes on the picture on the back of Minho's stupid muscle magazine, he can't seem to get his mind out of the gutter... or out of the the guy's imaginary pants. In the first place, the man in the picture is gorgeous. Beautiful. Mesmerising. If Taemin had set out to imagine his idea of the perfect man, the man in the picture would be exactly what his perfect man looked like.
He's dressed rather simply in a dark blue leather jacket, tee shirt that reads "Drop It Like It's Hot" and the most amazingly tight fitting ripped to shit, -oh please God let me lick your thighs through the rips- jeans. Taemin's mouth starts watering just looking at the picture. Plus, there's a faint smile on the man's handsome face and he's looking down as if on someone kneeling before him and Taemin thinks if he squints he can see the suggestion of a promising bulge in the man's jeans.
Then there's the caption near the bottom right of the page. "Have you been a bad boy? Would you like to be? Call Dial a Dom to get your fix. Master Onew is waiting." There's a number there on the page also and Taemin figures that people probably practically choked themselves dialing to get five minutes with Master Onew, if that's the name of the man in the picture.
Taemin unashamedly steals Minho's muscle magazine just so he can keep the picture. And there's no doubt that he's had more fantasies about "Master Onew" than is any way healthy. Still it's not til Minho finds his magazine carefully tucked away in Taemin's bedside drawer that Taemin even considers actually trying to meet his fantasy man. In the first place, he knows absolutely nothing about Master/slave ... anything... and in the second place, the guy probably has pimples on his ass or talks with a lisp or ... there must be something about him that would ruin the fantasy. And Taemin has come to cherish his fantasies, thank you very much. It's not as if he's dating like crazy or anything.
"Hey!" Minho says when he comes back from rummaging in Taemin's drawer for a nail clipper. In one hand he has the nail clippers and in the other he has Taemin's special magazine. "This is mine, you jerk!" Minho announces with an affronted expression, pointing to where the sticker with his home address is in plain sight.
"Yeah well, I wanted to read it and you left it in the locker room." Taemin keeps stirring the ramyun he's cooking instead of running over to rescue his magazine before the back cover gets damaged.
"You've been reading it for four months?" Minho asks skeptically, putting the nail clipper on the kitchen counter and flipping through the pages of the magazine as if he's revisiting old friends.
Taemin wonders if reading about ab busters and protein drinks can really be that fascinating and coughs. "Sure, I like some of the pictures," he says off handedly, transferring his attention to the bulgogi that's almost finished cooking in another pan. It's literally all he can do not to rescue his precious magazine and the picture of "Master Onew" from Minho's careless grasp.
Minho pauses and lifts a brow, turning the magazine this way and that as if trying to see what it is exactly Taemin is talking about. Since Minho is boringly straight as a stick, Taemin highly doubts that Minho will get it. Finally Taemin can't stand it any more and makes a grab for the magazine, pulling it free of Minho's loose grasp and holding it protectively against his chest. He flushes to the roots of his hair but just stares at his friend, daring him to say one word.
Since Minho knows perfectly well that Taemin's more likely to shriek like a girl if it comes to a fight than start punching, naturally he ignores Taemin's stare. "Ohhh, you like some of the pictures," Minho repeats with a leer.
"Yeah, I do. So just shut up or no food for you," Taemin answers, blowing his hair out of his eyes with a huff. He's careful to place his magazine safely on top of the refrigerator before moving back to the stove.
Minho pouts but he doesn't say anything more. In a few minutes, Taemin dishes up two platesful of dinner and they sit down at his small table. They begin chatting about the evils of work and the reasoning behind the ban of mini skirts for women by the company where they both work. (Taemin doesn't care, Minho thinks it's a sin and the top brass are all blind.) Taemin begins to think he's going to survive Minho finding his magazine. His hopes are dashed though when Minho is shrugging on his jacket, preparing to walk the half block to his parents house where he's still living.
"You know, you should call that guy," Minho says, patting his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and his keys.
"What guy?" Taemin asks absently, looking up from the last few minutes of his favorite drama.
"The one on the back of that magazine. If I ever gave up girls, I'd probably think he was hot. There was a number." Minho elaborates, making his already big eyes look abnormally large and slightly scary in what he probably hopes is an innocent expression.
"What? I mean... He's not even the one I like," Taemin answers quickly, wishing desperately that something drastic would happen. Bolts from the heavens, earthqakes, typhoons all come to mind.
"Uh huh. Right. You should call." Minho grins and lets himself out, leaving Taemin opening and closing his mouth trying to think of a come back.
Well, fuck.
I have *another* idea around this same outfit where Taemin hits on Onew in a club. I'm so confused!
Anyhoo, if you wouldn't mind, just let me know if this sounds promising or stupid or what?
------
From the second that Taemin lays eyes on the picture on the back of Minho's stupid muscle magazine, he can't seem to get his mind out of the gutter... or out of the the guy's imaginary pants. In the first place, the man in the picture is gorgeous. Beautiful. Mesmerising. If Taemin had set out to imagine his idea of the perfect man, the man in the picture would be exactly what his perfect man looked like.
He's dressed rather simply in a dark blue leather jacket, tee shirt that reads "Drop It Like It's Hot" and the most amazingly tight fitting ripped to shit, -oh please God let me lick your thighs through the rips- jeans. Taemin's mouth starts watering just looking at the picture. Plus, there's a faint smile on the man's handsome face and he's looking down as if on someone kneeling before him and Taemin thinks if he squints he can see the suggestion of a promising bulge in the man's jeans.
Then there's the caption near the bottom right of the page. "Have you been a bad boy? Would you like to be? Call Dial a Dom to get your fix. Master Onew is waiting." There's a number there on the page also and Taemin figures that people probably practically choked themselves dialing to get five minutes with Master Onew, if that's the name of the man in the picture.
Taemin unashamedly steals Minho's muscle magazine just so he can keep the picture. And there's no doubt that he's had more fantasies about "Master Onew" than is any way healthy. Still it's not til Minho finds his magazine carefully tucked away in Taemin's bedside drawer that Taemin even considers actually trying to meet his fantasy man. In the first place, he knows absolutely nothing about Master/slave ... anything... and in the second place, the guy probably has pimples on his ass or talks with a lisp or ... there must be something about him that would ruin the fantasy. And Taemin has come to cherish his fantasies, thank you very much. It's not as if he's dating like crazy or anything.
"Hey!" Minho says when he comes back from rummaging in Taemin's drawer for a nail clipper. In one hand he has the nail clippers and in the other he has Taemin's special magazine. "This is mine, you jerk!" Minho announces with an affronted expression, pointing to where the sticker with his home address is in plain sight.
"Yeah well, I wanted to read it and you left it in the locker room." Taemin keeps stirring the ramyun he's cooking instead of running over to rescue his magazine before the back cover gets damaged.
"You've been reading it for four months?" Minho asks skeptically, putting the nail clipper on the kitchen counter and flipping through the pages of the magazine as if he's revisiting old friends.
Taemin wonders if reading about ab busters and protein drinks can really be that fascinating and coughs. "Sure, I like some of the pictures," he says off handedly, transferring his attention to the bulgogi that's almost finished cooking in another pan. It's literally all he can do not to rescue his precious magazine and the picture of "Master Onew" from Minho's careless grasp.
Minho pauses and lifts a brow, turning the magazine this way and that as if trying to see what it is exactly Taemin is talking about. Since Minho is boringly straight as a stick, Taemin highly doubts that Minho will get it. Finally Taemin can't stand it any more and makes a grab for the magazine, pulling it free of Minho's loose grasp and holding it protectively against his chest. He flushes to the roots of his hair but just stares at his friend, daring him to say one word.
Since Minho knows perfectly well that Taemin's more likely to shriek like a girl if it comes to a fight than start punching, naturally he ignores Taemin's stare. "Ohhh, you like some of the pictures," Minho repeats with a leer.
"Yeah, I do. So just shut up or no food for you," Taemin answers, blowing his hair out of his eyes with a huff. He's careful to place his magazine safely on top of the refrigerator before moving back to the stove.
Minho pouts but he doesn't say anything more. In a few minutes, Taemin dishes up two platesful of dinner and they sit down at his small table. They begin chatting about the evils of work and the reasoning behind the ban of mini skirts for women by the company where they both work. (Taemin doesn't care, Minho thinks it's a sin and the top brass are all blind.) Taemin begins to think he's going to survive Minho finding his magazine. His hopes are dashed though when Minho is shrugging on his jacket, preparing to walk the half block to his parents house where he's still living.
"You know, you should call that guy," Minho says, patting his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and his keys.
"What guy?" Taemin asks absently, looking up from the last few minutes of his favorite drama.
"The one on the back of that magazine. If I ever gave up girls, I'd probably think he was hot. There was a number." Minho elaborates, making his already big eyes look abnormally large and slightly scary in what he probably hopes is an innocent expression.
"What? I mean... He's not even the one I like," Taemin answers quickly, wishing desperately that something drastic would happen. Bolts from the heavens, earthqakes, typhoons all come to mind.
"Uh huh. Right. You should call." Minho grins and lets himself out, leaving Taemin opening and closing his mouth trying to think of a come back.
Well, fuck.