community
Pairing: Minho/Key
Rating: PG16
Warnings: None
Final Word Count: +3500 words
i remember us alone
I
Kibum puts on his earphones and music flows into his bloodstream. His eyes fall closed, his head tilts to the side while those lids decorated with a line of bright red and dark kohl flutter with sounds thrumming inside his ribcage.
Long, strong fingers tap a table with the rhythm invading his senses. His lips form small words, each lyric unheard because he doesn’t sing it out. He keeps the words inside, twirling around his mind, savoring them like a fine dessert. All previous anger fades with the music, shivers running down his spine at the caress of that voice singing to him about darkness and desire accompanied by notes of sweet sinning.
Minho looks at him, transfixed.
Kibum is mesmerizing, Minho has always known this, but this knowledge doesn’t mean he has ever be prepared to deal with that fact -not before and certainly not now.
The singer is lost in a world Minho can only taste in the warmth of his body, in the beat of his heart and in the drag of friction between their lower halves. Right now however, Minho doesn’t dare to reach out and touch.
There are marks showing on Kibum’s neck, marks that extend across his back and that end up hidden beneath layers of clothes. Marks mocking him every time Kibum sways his body a bit or moves his head to the rhythm of the music he’s listening to. Minho can see the marks, and they are crushing him.
II
“Minho…” Kibum gasps into his ear. Minho’s eyes flutter closed as he thrusts deeper into the hot, slick channel welcoming him in.
Kibum digs his fingers into Minho’s shoulders, his mouth forming a small ‘O’ shape as he arches his back off the bed. His hair is already damp with sweat, his pupils blown out and his lips bruised with the roughness of their kisses. Minho wants and wants everything Kibum is. His hands grip tightly onto Kibum’s hips, fingers splayed over them as he drives into him with fervor, everything to make Kibum writhe beneath him, everything to make him let out those mewing sounds of need and pleasure. Everything to take his breath away.
“Please…” Kibum breathes out.
It could be so easy to fall into this charm and believe all Kibum has ever needed is him.
But there are marks decorating Kibum’s collarbone that aren’t his. They remind Minho of a truth laying there, in the depths of those brown eyes, in the lines of that expression.
His rhythm picks up, but his hand goes down to squeeze Kibum’s length at the base. Kibum whimpers, head trashing around the pillow as he shakes beneath Minho’s frame, every part of himself trembling with the strength of another dry orgasm.
Minho is panting and already too close. He can’t stop looking at the way Kibum’s features contort with a pleasurable pain, the way his eyebrows furrow, how his chest heaves up and down with the effort of his fast breathing, the way drops of sweat roll down his temples, the rosy hue adorning the paleness of his cheeks, neck and chest.
Kibum’s eyes flutter open, and he is looking at him.
It’s just them, Minho repeats inside his head like a mantra, everything surrounded by the feeling of a word he hasn’t dared to utter when Kibum is awake. He can’t.
Kibum’s hips answer to the fast rhythm, walls clamping hard on Minho’s arousal. It’s enough of a distraction for him to twist around their positions in one-go.
And it’s still just them, Minho muses, hands possessive around Kibum’s hips as the elder starts to move in obscene ways on top of him, forearms on each side of Minho’s face. Their eyes are locked together as Kibum pants, his eyes wild and touched out, as if all he had was the need to keep Minho inside him, as if Minho was everything he needed. All he ever wanted.
Minho should let go. But it’s just them, he tells himself again.
III
The first time Minho sees him, Kibum is on a stage singing about a broken heart and the inability to let go. He’s making love to the microphone, fingers running up and down the device as his lips brush against it between the silences. Kibum is wearing jeans that let Minho see his shaped, strong thighs, and a leather jacket that accentuates the already strong contrast between his broad shoulders and tiny waist.
Minho has never gone to a rock concert; he’s glad he agreed to come to this one.
“Told you you would like what you saw,” Jonghyun says next to his ear.
But Minho isn’t paying attention. He can’t. Not when his eyes are glued to that gorgeous man with feline-like eyes. Not when said man is looking right at where Minho is, his bow-shaped lips forming a smirk.
The rock singer is tempting him. Minho can feel the pull, the way his body wants to accept the invitation.
Away from the reflectors and all their witnesses, Minho finds Kibum in a dark corner of the backstage. Kibum kisses him hard, deeply, as if he wanted to take Minho’s soul in one go. Minho surrenders to his wishes, to this strong sense of want and the rich notes of citrus accompanied by the aftertaste of a foreign sweetness.
It’s Minho’s hands the ones that roam over every inch of skin with a hunger he has never known before. He fucks Kibum against the door, his body pressing the singer up against it as his lips suck, nip and bite at every inch of skin exposed to him. Kibum moans his desperation, his fingers tightening their grip on Minho’s hair. He also presses the side of his face against Minho’s neck and breathes him in. Minho has the control of their ground, but it is Kibum the one who teaches him how to fly.
.ii
When they come, they hold onto each other with all they have.
It is like that every single time they meet: Minho listens to Kibum singing and he can see so much he wonders if he is imagining half of it.
When they meet, it’s as if want and need collided one against the other. Kibum’s kisses make Minho’s heart and hands tremble. Minho has listened to him, to the lyrics he has written too, and he loves what he can perceive. He wants to understand him too. Minho undresses Kibum and it’s like he can see the wilderness of his heart in the way he moves against him for friction, it’s like he can read the truth in his eyes when they see each other as Minho pushes into his body.
Minho falls and falls, but Kibum doesn’t see any of this. Minho comes down from his high to press kisses on Kibum’s cheeks and nose, big, round eyes pleading for something he doesn’t recognize yet. Kibum is blind when he accepts them, when he takes Minho between his arms and enjoys of slow kisses that send flutters to Minho’s chest.
.iii
How can desire be warm and hopeful and heartbreaking?
Minho doesn’t know, can’t even linger on the thought when he can feel how Kibum takes his heart out of his ribcage with unaware kisses and the constant caresses of his fingertips.
The singer gives Minho a smile while he scribbles down his number on a used paper he finds near his reach after the fifth time they are together. Before they part, Kibum winks at him, the gleam in his eyes dangerous and mysterious just like it was that first time Minho saw him on the stage.
Minho knows Kibum can -will- break his heart, but he can’t say no. Not when the elder has already taken it with him. Not when he wants Kibum to keep it. Especially not when he dreams -hopes- Kibum will give him his one day.
want to be found
IV
Kibum wants him, but Minho wishes the elder wanted him in the same way that is tearing his own heart to pieces.
Minho doesn’t know where they stand but he has an idea that he isn’t too willing to confirm just yet. Kibum is a dark star rising in a universe Minho doesn’t understand. His kisses burn with demand, his skin tastes like the addictive sort of sin that is not enough -never enough- to satiate the increasing hunger in his soul and blood.
Kibum sings and smiles and dances, and Minho watches him, hands shaking with the effort to keep them down on each of his sides as to not reach out for him.
V
‘Blind devotion’, that’s how Jonghyun named his feelings for Kibum during one night. He said “You worship him like the holy grace that can save a soul,” and Minho’s ears burned with shame and anger.
“He’s a human being,” Minho replied with a frown.
“You have never followed human beings right into what is a clear abyss,” Jonghyun retorted, eyes concerned and voice even.
He didn’t understand that Minho wanted Kibum to follow him back to his very own abyss.
VI
Kibum can see -is seeing- him.
Minho is asleep next to him, eyelashes dusting a shadow over his cheeks while soft, pink lips remain slightly parted as he breathes peacefully. Kibum knows Minho is naked under his blankets, he feels -craves- the warmth his body radiates.
If you can’t see what you want, if you can’t look at the thing you are reaching for, you should be safe, he thinks as he scoots closer, his body chasing after Minho.
He has been singing about honesty, about a heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself and hands twitching with the need to take what they want to keep the most.
Minho is there, vulnerable and beautiful and so close to touch Kibum shouldn’t feel afraid of running his fingers through his hair in a soft caress or move closer to steal a butterfly kiss that will satisfy the tingling of his lips reminding him just how much he has come to feel about this man.
He is falling too, but his eyes are closed while Minho insists on keeping his eyes open and fixed on Kibum’s features.
Kibum doesn’t have to hope for the best as he falls, doesn’t have to take a glimpse at their future. Not yet at least.
wanna be the one you tie
VII
Kibum is kissing someone who is not Minho.
The young man that looks way younger than either of them is smiling, pleased with himself as his small hands settle on the singer’s hips, just above where Minho knows that his marks are still.
He gets out of there, as if running away could save any of what remains of his heart, as if distance could erase the fact that his heart is laying there, abandoned behind Kibum’s shadow.
Minho is seated on the couch while the TV shows a video he doesn’t care to watch. When Kibum steps inside, Minho doesn’t turn around to greet him, wishes deep inside this time hadn’t even arrived.
But then the elder walks closer and leaves a kiss on his cheek. “You didn’t have to stay up waiting for me,” Kibum says, one hand coming up to cup Minho’s cheek and caress it like he has come to do for a while now.
Minho wonders how it is possible for anyone to make of lying such a fine art of acting and poetry.
“Was thinking,” he murmurs.
It’s impossible to reject that touch. Even now, Minho still wants to be here, wants to be touched. Even if he’s the replacement -the replaced?- none of that matters.
VIII
“If I left tomorrow, would you let me go without a fight?”
Kibum stops caressing his cheek. Minho hasn’t turned to look at him, his eyes are fixed on the TV. He can’t see the way Kibum furrows his eyebrows just as he can’t hear how the singer’s heartbeat speeds up.
“Why are you asking such a thing?” the elder asks, masking anything going under his skin with a tone of false curiosity.
Minho has to accept that Jonghyun is right. He doesn’t need any of this. He deserves better. This is not him, not for him.
He gets up and shakes his head, forcing a smile on his lips.
“Was just wondering. I’m going to sleep, it will be a long day tomorrow for me.”
IX
After Minho runs away from the space he shared with Kibum for a few months, it’s a month before they meet again. Jonghyun asked Minho to bring his sister to a party he couldn’t attend to. When they both arrive, Sodam immediately gets lost in her chatting with her friends while introducing Minho to them. Everything is fine until he feels someone’s eyes on him. When he looks up, Kibum is there in all his glory.
The singer is alone, eyes intense in his staring and for a moment Minho can swear he feels Kibum’s hands caressing his side in the same way he always did when they kissed.
In spite of how much he tries to maintain his conversation easy with Sodam and her friends, gravity can’t be stopped. Ten minutes later, he is trapped between Kibum and their ever-so-latent desire.
Kibum’s eyes seem as if he’s appreciating every little detail in Minho’s face, as if he was taking notice of all the changes, as if he was greedy to know if something had changed substantially.
Minho surrenders to the need of running his fingertips over soft skin and kiss Kibum with all the pain of separation and shame. He nips at his lips with desperation, licks his way into his mouth with all the rage boiling still inside his veins. But when Kibum holds him between his arms, body melting against Minho’s, he still presses the same question against his lips with sadness.
“Missed you so much,” Kibum says. Minho is adamant on listening only to what is expressed between hot hands and deep kisses. Kibum doesn’t love him, he’s not enough for him. Will never be enough for him. Nothing has changed.
Yet he still waits around to see what happens the moment Kibum wakes up.
X
Jonghyun looks at him and Minho feels like he’s been measured again. The radio host is not shaking his head anymore, but his eyes seem as concerned as ever.
“Is it healthy for you to love this way?” Jonghyun asks.
Minho takes a look at his hands. Where does he stand? Where does he belong to?
“When you chase after something you really want, I guess it’s a matter of time before you get lost, before you end up reaching a point where you don’t remember how to go back home or anywhere that feels remotely familiar…” Minho finds himself saying. Kibum’s eyes are always so bright, so alive. “But you can still go somewhere new after you accept you just will never catch what you have been after during all this time.”
“What if you just live for the chasing?”
Minho smiles softly. Kibum is like gold, the shimmer that blinds him and ties him to the sky, the same shimmer he can’t ever reach.
where are you taking me?
XI
When Kibum takes a look at Minho as the rain falls down on both of them, his heart aches.
What has Minho seen in him? What has made him stay around for so long and return after he decided to leave? What did Minho see that made him think Kibum was worth any fight? What made him fall in love with him like this, without a care about the world or anything else that wasn’t Kibum?
Kibum’s fingers are learning again the shape of Minho’s cheeks and nose in spite of their shivering. It’s dark -perhaps a bit too dark for it to be safe, but they have found their acceptance here.
Kibum loves Minho too, and it’s as simple as it sounds. He loves the way in which his eyelids flutter open in the mornings and the way he curls around him during night; the way in which Minho holds him when they have sex under the influence of alcohol and how he demands and demands when anger is hot inside their veins. Minho has left a mark on his heart, has it now between his hands, but all of Kibum isn’t just there. You can’t be in the pieces of the only thing that is good about you, he thinks.
“Forget about me,” Kibum whispers, eyes intent as they look right at Minho’s brown orbs. “You can’t see all I am, not when you love me this way, this much.”
Kibum doesn’t belong to pureness, to sincerity or something else that isn’t loneliness. He can’t soak into Minho’s love and pretend it’s okay. Minho’s heart deserves more, and Kibum has to move on.
let me take your heart
XII
Minho learns how to pick himself up in the months that follow.
Being loved by Kibum was like being noticed by a king, by a divine glow that erased everything around him.
He learns that things can be okay once again after time deletes some memories. When he no longer can remember more than the ache for old and comfortable habits, Minho knows he will be alright. His heart heals and shines on its own like it did before Kibum.
XIII
The next time Minho meets Kibum, the rocker is singing songs about longing and loves that scar. When they are at the after-party, Minho feels his heart soar when he notices the way Kibum is avoiding him.
He corners him once the alcohol has flown free around him and the night has made the hideouts darker.
Kibum looks up at him with love and want. They kiss, their lips bruising with the nips and pressure. Eager fingers take off every single garment and when they are finally joined, when Kibum’s lips kiss the corner of Minho’s mouth and Minho has his fingers on the shape of Kibum’s hips, the younger promises him this is enough.
They love each other in the dark and when they are laying on their sides, eyes sleepy but unable to stop looking at the other, Minho repeats Kibum that he can do this, that no one has to see what goes between them.
XIV
Kibum relishes into relearning the speed at which Minho loses his mind when the singer moves on top of him. They are joined for the third time and there’s a pleasant soreness in the back of Kibum’s thighs that becomes stronger with the effort of keeping himself up and grinding on the younger’s lap. His lips look for Minho’s as their orgasm builds up, but before it can reach them, Minho reverses their positions in one swift move.
Kibum lands on the mattress with wide eyes and trembling thighs. Minho looks at him as he pants, trying to catch his breath while he slides in, sensual thrusts. He makes Kibum shake with the feeling of the younger’s length dragging inside him in such a thorough way. Kibum’s head falls onto the pillows and he mewls, hands reaching up to take a grip of Minho’s hips as his own move on their own accord to chase after more.
It’s so slow it’s getting him lost in a world of heat and warmth. Minho bites on his bottom lip and continues to move in deep, slow thrusts, His arm tightens around the singer’s waist while Kibum keeps his own around Minho’s neck. They are both sweating and their skin slides easily as Kibum presses kisses to Minho’s ear and cheek, his feverish mind supplying him with words of endearment and others so obscene that are enough to send Minho’s heart to a race.
With one last cry, Kibum falls into the sweetness of Minho’s smell and realness. His seed soils the blankets and Minho finishes inside him. He shivers with delight just as Minho places more soft kisses over his neck when he regains some of his consciousness. Kibum is floating, but never too far from the pulsing strength of sandalwood and honey.
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A/N: Thanks for reading!