2Min - Only mine
Title: Only mine
Pairing: onesided!2Min, JongTae
Rating: R
Warning: Curses and non-con
Word count: 1 122
Summary: Minho has an obsession. Lee Taemin.
A/N: I've been listening to BFMV's 'Hit the floor' and it inspired this. It's the creepiest thing I've ever written - which doesn't say much since I don't usually write creepy things. Also, I dedicate this to u47033732 simply because she's awesome. And because she's so awesome, this fic hasn't been beta read yet. xD Enjoy?
He first saw Lee Taemin on a cold April day.
He fell in love with him at first sight; big bright eyes and a smile that spread across half of his face, with hair softer than silk - his fingers were itching to run through the soft-looking strands - and a slim body wrapped in fashionable clothes. He couldn’t move as he watched the young boy talking to his friends, boys around his own age that only faded into the background with the boy’s glow.
He had never seen someone as beautiful in his entire life.
The boy left, too soon in his opinion, leaving the mall with his friends and that’s when he noticed he had been rooted to the same spot for over an hour.
*
He found out that his friend Jinki knew the boy and he forced some information out of him. Lee Taemin, two years younger than him, in the same school.
He had never seen the boy around before, but after the incident in the mall he looked around more carefully in school and saw Taemin sitting in the middle, with the dancers. Everyone knew who they were, how could he have not noticed before?
The boy was laughing and he could practically feel himself falling, falling so hard.
*
He tried to get more information out of Jinki without raising suspicion. It was easy at first, but even Jinki was bound to notice when all he talked about was Taemin, Taemin, Taemin. It lead to uncomfortable questions that he couldn’t answer.
He had to figure out by himself somehow.
*
He followed Taemin after school, curious of where the boy lived.
The house was close enough to walk and it only took them fifteen minutes until they arrived. He watched as Taemin bounced up the short stairs, his messy hair bouncing with each step. A woman opened the door with a warm smile - Taemin’s smile. His mother, probably.
He walked back to his place, memorizing the route in his head.
*
He got Taemin’s phone number from a friend, under the pretence of calling to ask for a place in the dance team. He never called though, just staring at the number from time to time. It made him feel good, knowing that he could call at any time, if he wanted to.
He felt like he was in control.
*
He made it into a habit to hang outside of the dance practice room when Taemin and his friends were dancing, trying not to be there when the girls’ were there. Their shrieking disturbed him when he was looking at the younger boy and he couldn’t help but glare at them. They were stupid, announcing their love to someone who was never going to even look at them. Taemin would never be interested in them.
Because Taemin was going to be his.
*
Pictures decorated his walls, and he had taken the habit of locking his room so that no one would see them. They were his treasures, and his alone.
Taemin eating an ice cream. Taemin standing in the practice room, sweat travelling down his face and neck. Taemin lying in the grass, taking a nap. Taemin sitting in front of his computer in his room.
Taemin, Taemin, Taemin.
They were his treasures, taken with his own camera. They were his.
One step closer to owning the real person.
*
Jinki looked at him with a frown. You haven’t been going to classes, he told him. He shrugged. Minho, what is happening to you?
He just placed his chin in his hand and looked away. Nothing was important any more.
Nothing except Taemin.
*
He was getting frustrated. Why didn’t Taemin come to him? Why didn’t Taemin call him? Hadn’t they decided to meet up?
What could be more important then meeting him? It wasn’t the first time either…
He couldn’t take it any more.
*
Taemin was cheating on him.
No, he couldn’t be. He loved Taemin, the boy would never do something like that. No, he was being taking advantage of. By Kim Jonghyun, a senior. Yes, that must be it. When he had seen them kissing, hadn’t he seen Taemin’s disliking face and struggling hands? He must’ve been forced, not being able to say no to a senior.
He was furious. No one touched his property.
*
He watched his fist, marvelling over the strong contrast of red and white. The blood on his hand almost looked fake in the dim light, but he knew it was real. He had himself seen when it came out of Kim Jonghyun’s face and landed on his hand.
It was pretty beautiful. Almost like a painting, or the way Taemin moved his body when he danced.
Taemin.
*
He hadn’t meant to do it.
When he had cornered Taemin in that alley it hadn’t been for any other reason than to comfort him. He knew how scared Taemin must have been, being in control by that bastard, but he wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be afraid more.
But Taemin looked at him with fear visible in his eyes, stammering as he wondered who he was.
Baby, it’s me, he said, don’t you remember? It’s me, Minho.
Taemin had tried to run away and his temper got the best of him. He slammed the younger boy against the wall, trapping him with his body. Taemin struggled against his hold, begging to be released. Tears streamed down his face as his clothes were ripped apart.
Taemin looked beautiful. Naked, shaking, with blood running down his thighs. He was beautiful.
You’re mine, he growled in the boy’s ear as he thrust hard, only mine.
But he didn’t want to stand up afterwards. He didn’t want to take his hand, only crying for him to leave him alone.
What had gone wrong?
*
You’re fucking sick, was the first thing he heard Kim Kibum ever say. Be fucking happy Taemin doesn’t want people to find out and that he won’t press charges on you, you filthy son-of-a-bitch.
Press charges? For what, he had never hurt Taemin. He could never, he loved him too much. Didn’t Taemin love him as well?
*
Minho, you need help, Jinki told him. You’re obsessed, and for- You rap- did awful things to Taemin. Have you any idea of how hurt he is by what you did? You need help.
*
He didn’t understand. Why did they put him in this room?
It was white, too white. Draining the colours of his pictures instead of enhancing them. Stealing the colours of his Taemin.
He needed to see him. Why was he there? He wasn’t supposed to be there.
He needed Lee Taemin.
Pairing: onesided!2Min, JongTae
Rating: R
Warning: Curses and non-con
Word count: 1 122
Summary: Minho has an obsession. Lee Taemin.
A/N: I've been listening to BFMV's 'Hit the floor' and it inspired this. It's the creepiest thing I've ever written - which doesn't say much since I don't usually write creepy things. Also, I dedicate this to u47033732 simply because she's awesome. And because she's so awesome, this fic hasn't been beta read yet. xD Enjoy?
He first saw Lee Taemin on a cold April day.
He fell in love with him at first sight; big bright eyes and a smile that spread across half of his face, with hair softer than silk - his fingers were itching to run through the soft-looking strands - and a slim body wrapped in fashionable clothes. He couldn’t move as he watched the young boy talking to his friends, boys around his own age that only faded into the background with the boy’s glow.
He had never seen someone as beautiful in his entire life.
The boy left, too soon in his opinion, leaving the mall with his friends and that’s when he noticed he had been rooted to the same spot for over an hour.
*
He found out that his friend Jinki knew the boy and he forced some information out of him. Lee Taemin, two years younger than him, in the same school.
He had never seen the boy around before, but after the incident in the mall he looked around more carefully in school and saw Taemin sitting in the middle, with the dancers. Everyone knew who they were, how could he have not noticed before?
The boy was laughing and he could practically feel himself falling, falling so hard.
*
He tried to get more information out of Jinki without raising suspicion. It was easy at first, but even Jinki was bound to notice when all he talked about was Taemin, Taemin, Taemin. It lead to uncomfortable questions that he couldn’t answer.
He had to figure out by himself somehow.
*
He followed Taemin after school, curious of where the boy lived.
The house was close enough to walk and it only took them fifteen minutes until they arrived. He watched as Taemin bounced up the short stairs, his messy hair bouncing with each step. A woman opened the door with a warm smile - Taemin’s smile. His mother, probably.
He walked back to his place, memorizing the route in his head.
*
He got Taemin’s phone number from a friend, under the pretence of calling to ask for a place in the dance team. He never called though, just staring at the number from time to time. It made him feel good, knowing that he could call at any time, if he wanted to.
He felt like he was in control.
*
He made it into a habit to hang outside of the dance practice room when Taemin and his friends were dancing, trying not to be there when the girls’ were there. Their shrieking disturbed him when he was looking at the younger boy and he couldn’t help but glare at them. They were stupid, announcing their love to someone who was never going to even look at them. Taemin would never be interested in them.
Because Taemin was going to be his.
*
Pictures decorated his walls, and he had taken the habit of locking his room so that no one would see them. They were his treasures, and his alone.
Taemin eating an ice cream. Taemin standing in the practice room, sweat travelling down his face and neck. Taemin lying in the grass, taking a nap. Taemin sitting in front of his computer in his room.
Taemin, Taemin, Taemin.
They were his treasures, taken with his own camera. They were his.
One step closer to owning the real person.
*
Jinki looked at him with a frown. You haven’t been going to classes, he told him. He shrugged. Minho, what is happening to you?
He just placed his chin in his hand and looked away. Nothing was important any more.
Nothing except Taemin.
*
He was getting frustrated. Why didn’t Taemin come to him? Why didn’t Taemin call him? Hadn’t they decided to meet up?
What could be more important then meeting him? It wasn’t the first time either…
He couldn’t take it any more.
*
Taemin was cheating on him.
No, he couldn’t be. He loved Taemin, the boy would never do something like that. No, he was being taking advantage of. By Kim Jonghyun, a senior. Yes, that must be it. When he had seen them kissing, hadn’t he seen Taemin’s disliking face and struggling hands? He must’ve been forced, not being able to say no to a senior.
He was furious. No one touched his property.
*
He watched his fist, marvelling over the strong contrast of red and white. The blood on his hand almost looked fake in the dim light, but he knew it was real. He had himself seen when it came out of Kim Jonghyun’s face and landed on his hand.
It was pretty beautiful. Almost like a painting, or the way Taemin moved his body when he danced.
Taemin.
*
He hadn’t meant to do it.
When he had cornered Taemin in that alley it hadn’t been for any other reason than to comfort him. He knew how scared Taemin must have been, being in control by that bastard, but he wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be afraid more.
But Taemin looked at him with fear visible in his eyes, stammering as he wondered who he was.
Baby, it’s me, he said, don’t you remember? It’s me, Minho.
Taemin had tried to run away and his temper got the best of him. He slammed the younger boy against the wall, trapping him with his body. Taemin struggled against his hold, begging to be released. Tears streamed down his face as his clothes were ripped apart.
Taemin looked beautiful. Naked, shaking, with blood running down his thighs. He was beautiful.
You’re mine, he growled in the boy’s ear as he thrust hard, only mine.
But he didn’t want to stand up afterwards. He didn’t want to take his hand, only crying for him to leave him alone.
What had gone wrong?
*
You’re fucking sick, was the first thing he heard Kim Kibum ever say. Be fucking happy Taemin doesn’t want people to find out and that he won’t press charges on you, you filthy son-of-a-bitch.
Press charges? For what, he had never hurt Taemin. He could never, he loved him too much. Didn’t Taemin love him as well?
*
Minho, you need help, Jinki told him. You’re obsessed, and for- You rap- did awful things to Taemin. Have you any idea of how hurt he is by what you did? You need help.
*
He didn’t understand. Why did they put him in this room?
It was white, too white. Draining the colours of his pictures instead of enhancing them. Stealing the colours of his Taemin.
He needed to see him. Why was he there? He wasn’t supposed to be there.
He needed Lee Taemin.