Night Is Young [2min] [NC-17] [1/1]

[queen_anything]

Title: Night Is Young
Pairing: 2min
Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst, Smut
Rating: NC-17 [Smut]
Word Count: 9,000
Summary: Taemin wants out of his sleepy, beach side town and city kid Minho is the perfect route out.

A/N: For Maddymokonowarashi. Baby, I'm so sorry for how late this is! Also, please excuse all of the typos and errors. I just hope the content of this fic can make up for all of my flaws!

Summer in a coastal town is like a piece of heaven on earth. People pour in from the city to enjoy the beach and picturesque setting. “Quaint” and “adorable” they gush, treated like royalty by the locals who depend on their business to last the off season when fishing doesn't work out.

The town's youth don't observe this side of the summertime rush. Rather, their attention is solely on the fresh catch. There's a rare few who don't jump with glee at the sight of the first group of hotties from the city.

“This town is so boring.” The words have been heard multiple times, groaned and mumbled endlessly by the same teen who is apart of the “rare few.”

“You're not going to die from it, Tae.” Jinki speaks while chopping up vegetables for his and his younger brother's dinner. “A slow paced life isn't something to be taken for granted.”

He's promptly ignored, receiving the slam of the old wood sliding door in response. Roughly threading his fingers through his blond locks, Taemin lets his cheeks expand before blowing the air out slowly while picking his way down the trodden path to the beach.

How can he just settle for this life? Be like the rest of this sleepy town . There's a buzz of life for two months, those two months bring a little bit of color to his cheeks. But then it's back to dull and mundane. Jinki accepts it, enjoys the peace. He's always been one for the quiet. Takes after their father that way.

But like their mother, Taemin can't stand it. He has a theory that that's what sent her over the edge. She was sent here to let the salty, fresh air aid her in gaining her health back - only she couldn't live without the city.

The tide laps against the shore, but the skies are gray and overcast, disturbing the post card image as Taemin takes a seat on the damp sand. He lets the chilled waters bite at his bare toes, white cotton shirt billowing in the breeze blowing off the ocean.

A storms coming.

And isn't that just the best way to start off the tourist season, Taemin thinks bitterly, and glares at the brooding waves growing on the horizon.

“It's storming pretty hard.”

Taemin doesn't look up, continues to thoroughly chew his dinner. The dark weather suits his mood.

From behind thinly framed glasses, Jinki studies him. “Taemin … “ he's never been bad with words, but he doesn't recognize his brother anymore.

Hair tousled from constant handling, Taemin just shakes his head and uses his chopsticks to push aside unwanted vegetables.

“I don't understand - “

“Don't bother, Jinki.”

No eruption follows, no out burst about disrespect or worry. Just silence and the wind beating against the weathered house siding.

Empty.

When Taemin steps along creaky floorboards on his path towards breakfast, he finds two people sitting at the table. He blinks. The sun is shining bright outside as if the storm last night never occurred.

“Who's this?”

Jinki sets his chopsticks down, readjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He clears his throat and shifts on the thin mat beneath him. “Taemin, this is Minho. He's going to stay with us.”

Sharp gaze locking on the man sitting cross legged on the floor, Taemin examines their guest. Long, chestnut hair tied back messily with a greater amount down than up. Deep, perceptive brown eyes. Judging by how his long arms reach easily across the table for more of whatever stew Jinki threw together that morning, tall as well.

“Why would you ever come to a place like this?” he asks, wrinkle forming on his forehead.

Time seems to slow as the man stares back at him. Taemin shivers, looks away quickly to avoid the gaze that can see too much.

“We're going to be hospitable.” There's a warning in Jinki's tone, oddly parental.

Taemin scoffs, a breath of relief when his body regains motion, and he shrugs. “Whatever.”

He doesn't sit down to eat, slips on a pair of shoes and leaves out the back door. Jinki watches him leave.

“You're worried about him.” Not a question, a statement of fact.

Jinki's lips tug into a wistful smile. “Is it that easy to tell?”

Minho sets down his bowl of rice. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“A lot has changed since you went to college.”

“Do you know why?”

Jinki lets his eyes rest on the worn print on the rug. “He's restless. I don't know why … I thought it was just because he was, you know, dealing still, but I don't think it's about mom and dad. Not anymore, at least.”

“It's not your fault, Jinki.,” Minho says, always to the point, and places a warm hand on the older man's knee.

Tired eyes meet his. “Are you sure?”

“To get away from all the noise.”

Taemin whips his head up, startled by the unexpected presence. “What?” he questions, body rigid as the lean figure steps into view from the path home that's shrouded with trees and undergrowth.

Minho takes no time to cross the distance still between them. He settles down on the sand a safe distance from the teen. “The reason I came here, it was to get away from all of the noise in the city.”

“Why?”

“It was too much.” Minho's bangs drag lazily across his forehead, carried by the ever present breeze.

Arms wrapped around his legs, knees drawn up to his chest, Taemin rests his chin on his knees to keep his eyes on the newcomer. “You're stupid to give up something like that.”

“I didn't give it up, just taking a break from it.”

Gulls fly overheard, calling to one another.

Taemin purses his lips. “How do you know my brother?”

“We used to go to school together,” Minho explains, turns his gaze from the ocean to Taemin, “Jinki never mentioned me?”

Taemin shakes his head. “He never tells me anything about his life.”

“Really,” Minho says thoughtfully.

He wants to scoot away under the intimidating stare, but Taemin doesn't want to show the other how uncomfortable he makes him. “Don't you have family to stay with?” he asks, suspicious.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Minho's gaze shifts from analyzing to unfriendly in a split second. “You of all people should understand.”

Hard eyes stare out at the ocean as Taemin listens to the man get to his feet and step almost soundlessly away.

The weather has held and the beach goers have come flooding in. Sitting behind the counter of one of the town's multitude of little boutiques, Taemin's cheeks expand as he lets out a slow breath. Two guys, a couple he's deduced, have been in the shop for the past half hour perusing and bantering. While they have provided entertainment for Taemin, his patience is starting to wear.

“No, really, Jjong, which one looks better?” the taller of the two asks, eyes trained on his reflection in the mirror as he holds up two different pairs of earrings to his earlobe.

Flipping dyed brunette hair from his face, the other man groans before replying. “They're both great.”

“Honestly, these are a bit over the top, aren't they?”

“Kibum, honestly, I don't care.”

“But - “

“We're having a two for one deal,” Taemin cuts in when he feels like jumping across the counter and strangling the guy.

A bright smile crosses the man's face and he exclaims something in English.

“Thank God,” the other one mutters, “Jonghyun” Taemin has learned his name is over the span of their time in the shop.

Taemin rings the earrings up, catches just how many piercings the guy, Kibum, has in his ears. Did anyone in this town look even close to as edgy as he does? Of course not. Taemin wraps them, places them in a plastic bag.

“Enjoy your time here,” he says as he stuffs the receipt in the bag and pushes it towards the boisterous couple.

“Thanks, hon!” Kibum chimes, hooks arms with Jonghyun and then flippantly prances out of the store.

The bell above the door rings as they leave and Taemin allows himself to fall against the counter. The two are probably big time party goers back in the city, here to take a break from their fast paced life. What Taemin would give to just go back with them.

The door sounds again as someone steps inside the shop. Taemin has to sit back up. He can't be fired from this job, depends on the money he earns here to make it out of this town.

“Welcome to - “

“Hey.”

Taemin has grown accustomed to the always disheveled ponytail, doesn't bother asking why Minho never takes the time to fix it. Even if he got an answer, which Taemin doubted as he discovered the man was picky with what he would respond to, it would probably be accompanied by a half hearted shrug and just as uninterested response. The past week Taemin has learned all he needs to about Minho; although he appears to be a mute with creepy telepathic skills, he's actually a conceited asshole who has somehow managed to gain Jinki's undying loyalty and respect.

“What do you want?” Taemin can't bring himself to sound annoyed, too apathetic after the grueling day.

“Jinki wanted me to make sure you got home okay.”

Taemin sees through the lie quickly. “Jinki never worries about me getting home. Why are you really here?”

Minho laughs through his nose, not looking the least put off by being caught. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me?”

“Dinner?”

“Great, so you won't mind leaving work early!”

Taemin doesn't have a chance to protest before Minho is pulling him from behind the counter, eyes laughing. His apron is taken off and tossed on his abandoned stool by nimble fingers. Minho has him outside, hand wrapped around his wrist, before he can gather his thoughts.

“What are you doing?” Taemin demands, casts a look over his shoulder and wonders how Minho managed to flip the sign in the window to “Closed” without him noticing. “I can't just leave work!”

Minho throws a wink at him. “No one will notice, don't worry.”

Taemin hates it, but he gets caught up in the dazzling show of teeth when Minho graces him with a smile. Damn his charisma. His body is set afire when the hold on his wrist drops and his hand is being enveloped by the warmth of Minho's.

What's happening to him?

Dinner passes in a daze in one of the local restaurants. Taemin has never witnessed this side of Minho. The laughing, carefree part of him. He's so used to an all knowing air wrapping around the taller man, he's set off balance by how inviting he seems now.

Fireworks go off.

And just like that, Taemin snaps back to reality. He's leaning against the railing of the wrap around deck of the restaurant with Minho, arms touching, as the weekly light show kicks off overhead.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks and tries not to be afraid of just how raw his quivering voice sounds, how young he seems.

Minho's face falls. “Why shouldn't I?”

Taemin stutters, can't find the right words to express the turmoil inside him. He's always been alone, has faced everything on his own two feet without a helping hand. Not that there aren't those who try - look at the poor, pathetic orphan boy. They all feel sorry for him. But Taemin doesn't need anyone's pity.

His heart pounds in his chest.

Does Minho pity him? He always casts those sad eyes on him, staring deep into him and seeing more than he should.

Taemin's racing thoughts halt, warmth filling him as Minho lays one of those strong hands on his cheek. “Shh,” he coos.

It's not condescending. Concerned. Taemin sucks in a quick breath when he sees those full lips drifting closer and closer in the flashes and sparks of light. Eyes shut, he doesn't pull away, relaxes into the soft touch.

Their lips meet. Minho continues to caress his cheek tenderly, mouth moving fluidly against Taemin's. It's not the blond's first kiss, but the local girls he used to mess around with never felt like this this. It's immature, naive, but Taemin can't be bothered to think past the flame igniting in his heart.

The light show ends.

They're plunged into darkness, but Taemin doesn't feel empty as he presses his body into the strong hold as arms curl around his back to hold him in place.

The walk back home is shrouded by the night, but stars twinkling overhead help to light the path. Taemin hasn't seen solid proof that Minho is a native to the area until now, picking his way effortlessly along the dirt and rocks. City people are notorious for tripping and falling into the ditches along the road because of the lack of artificial light.

His body is buzzing, skin seconds from melting and heart a beat away from exploding. Emotions rushing and causing friction at his very core. Minho turns in a bright patch and shoots one of his killer smiles. Taemin chokes on his own saliva.

He stumbles the rest of the way home in a drunken state.

Sliding the door open, Taemin tries to silence the ancient wooden structure, but their entrance is sounded by creaks and squeaks. Not that he expected to slip in past his brother - Jinki is seated at the table, in a pose for meditation with either feet crossed onto the opposite thigh and pointer fingers pressed into thumbs. Taemin leaves his shoes just outside the door and steps into the room.

“Hey,” he says coolly when Jinki stirs from his meditation, possibly slumber.

Hands moving to rest on the table beside his discarded glasses and newspaper, Jinki squints up at his younger brother. He opens his mouth just as Minho scoots inside behind Taemin and bows his head, cutting off his words.

“Sorry we're back so late, we wanted to see the fireworks.” Minho's voice is smooth enough to soothe any irritations.

Jinki blinks. “Oh … Did you have fun?” He aims the question directly at Taemin.

Eyes focus anywhere but at his brother's face. “It was okay.” He prays to any higher being that his face isn't as red as it feels, his racing heart beat seeming to push all of that excess blood to his cheeks.

Silence reigns over the room, neither quite sure what to say.

“What have you been up to?” Minho asks, stepping in to rescue the awkward situation.

“I made dinner … “ Jinki looks dazed, probably lost in thought. “Did either of you want any?”

“I'm going to bed,” Taemin announces, tired of standing there, shifting his weight from either foot and fidgeting like crazy.

Jinki nods. “Night, Tae.”

“Sleep well.”

Taemin dashes down the hallway and collapses in his room, the “sleep well” still resonating in his mind. He's going insane, he's positive. Turning into a dumb teenager with raging hormones … God, he really doesn't mind it. Just thinking about Minho makes his stomach tighten into a knot.

Kicking off his clothes, Taemin dives onto his mat. Here's to at least trying to sleep.

Through the haze of the day's events, Taemin had forgotten the inevitable date the next day. It always happened this way. The date would slap him in the face as soon as he woke up, a gaping hole in his heart compared to the regular crevice. Aching to be filled.

Craving for love that was buried years ago.

He crawls off his mat, shuffles through his clothes for suitable pants, black. A white, cotton button down top. That's as dressy as he could convince himself to be.

A soft knock on his door before Jinki's head bobs into view. “Ready?”

Taemin pushes his bangs from his face. Wordlessly follows his older brother out.

Technically, it's their parents wedding anniversary, but it's the date they chose as a memorial for their deaths as well. It seemed fitting, the two just as married to each in death as life. The head stones sit on a sloping hill just beyond grass covered dunes. The ocean is in view, which Taemin feels is an act or irony.

A lone figure is already at the mounds when they arrive. Taemin's can only react inside with a skipped heart beat when the man turns, revealing Minho, hair tidy for the first time. Stealing a glance at the graves, Taemin sees Minho has already left flowers for his parents.

Jinki embraces the man without saying a word. Minho understands, is already expecting it.

Taemin scoots around them so he can pay his respects in solitaire.

So they won't see his tears.

The lapping of the ocean soothes raging emotions. Taemin closes his eyes, listens to the waves, focuses on them.

Calm.

He looks serene on the outside, if only his insides reflected the same.

“Thinking?”

Taemin doesn't open an eyelid, waits for Minho to claim his spot at his side. This time, that comfortable space is gone and Minho's elbow and thigh brush against his. He doesn't flinch away from the touch. He's too focused on the waves. Or the immediate ease to his person at the intimacy.

“I know you already have a lot on your plate,” Minho begins, and Taemin almost groans, “But have you ever thought of Jinki in all of this?”

Now Taemin is paying attention.

“I saw how you brushed him off earlier. He's really worried about you.”

Earlier. Right, when Taemin ignored Jinki's “comforting” words and hugs, to be alone with the water and sand.

“And?” Taemin finally speaks.

Minho scoffs. “He's been taking care of you this whole time, don't you feel anything towards him?”

Taemin nudges the sand with his toes. “I never asked for him to … “

“You're better than that, Taemin.”

“Better than what?” Taemin snaps. “Don't tell me what to do or feel, Minho. I didn't even know you existed before a couple weeks ago, what makes you think you can come into my home and boss me around?”

Minho gives him a stern look. “Taemin.”

The blond sulks, looks back down at the grains of sand pressed between his feet.

“You need to talk to him.”

“I don't need to do anything,” slips out before Taemin can bite his tongue.

The edge to Minho's face softens. “I know you're just a kid - “

“I'm not.”

“- and this is all difficult for you already - “

“Don't act like you know me.”

“- but Jinki thinks hes lost you, too.”

Lost … Taemin blinks. Jinki wouldn't really think that? But, it would make sense. No, Taemin couldn't have done that to the last of his blood, been so cruel … How had Minho seen this?

He was an outsider, but he saw more than Taemin ever could.

Taemin stands up. “Maybe I should … “

Minho nods. “I'll give you two space.”

“Jinki.”

His brother looks up, pretends as if his eyes are swollen and bee-stung red. “Yes?”

“You … You know you haven't lost me, right?” Dumb, Taemin is dumb for saying the words, but he doesn't know how else to communicate with this man he's been living with.

When' the last time he's really even talked to his brother? God, had he really been so blind?

Jinki must be a bottomless pit of tears, eyes watering. “Taemin .. “

It feels like a reunion of lost souls.

Jinki captures him in an embrace, and for the first time in years, Taemin doesn't duck away from it. He lets his brother cry into his shoulder, pats his back awkwardly.

It's not ideal, but it's a start.

Maybe the day's events had worn on him, but Taemin passed out almost immediately after laying down. The summer's humid weather wrapped him in a sheet of heavy heat, like a cocoon. He wakes up refreshed, thoughts clear.

Clear to remember.

He was so stupid the other night with Minho, to get caught up in .. whatever happened. He can't even wrap his mind around it. He'll just need to avoid Minho until all of this blows over -

“Want to go to the beach?”

Taemin jumps. “Have you ever heard of privacy?”

Minho shrugs from where he's leaning against the door frame. “You're the one with the open door.”

Getting to his feet, Taemin stubbornly shuts the sliding door. “There, now it's shut. Leave me alone.”

“Be out in five, we'll grab breakfast on the way.”

There would be his conceited side. Minho assumes Taemin will just throw away all of his plans for the day so he can go play in the sand with him. Uh uh. Not happening. What's today … His day off from work.

Taemin lets his forehead hit the wall. He has no plans.

He takes his time getting ready, face expressionless when he goes outside. Like he'll give Minho the satisfaction of knowing how off kilter he feels around him. Minho is waiting with a surf board under his arm, long blue boarding shorts and a tight white tee. Taemin forces himself to not notice how the shirt shows off just how toned the older man's body is.

Taemin grabs his own board. He's glad he's wearing his aviators when he steps up to Minho's side and cant' control his roaming eyes any longer.

“What do you want to get for breakfast?”

“I don't care.”

“Coffee it is,” Minho says matter-of-factly.

Coffee? Is that really breakfast? Taemin swallows down his complaints and follows Minho towards town.

Cold, ocean water rushes over him as Taemin is swept under a wave.

It's almost a relief, to escape the harsh midday sun, but his mind jumps to thoughts of where the water is pulling him and if his board is close by. He flounders, tries to fight the ocean's strength, but it's a losing battle. How long can he hold his breath? His lungs don't burn just yet. He keeps kicking to get to the surface.

He's gasping for air on top of his reunited board almost instantly.

Wasn't he just stuck below? Taemin coughs, clings to his board, and tries to gather his bearings. When he can finally breathe again, his eyes snap up to his savior who snatched him from the water. Minho smirks from where he's sitting on his board. It's only then that Taemin realizes one of the man's hands is supporting his back.

“Told you,” Minho says easily.

Taemin shakes out of his hold. “Well, now I know for myself.” Although, he could have just listened to Minho's advice in the first place and not taken on the wave.

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I'm not being stubborn.”

“You are, you're acting like a child.”

“Maybe because you're treating me like a child?” Taemin can't think of a good enough retort with his stomach knotting up as bad as it is. Must be from the stress of his close call.

Minho chuckles, cast his gaze off to the shore. “I'm getting hungry. Wanna race back?”

Taemin won't lie to himself. “You'll just win.”

“Are you giving up?”

Taemin glares at him.

An idea plays at Minho's lips, causing them to quirk upwards. “How about .. winner can ask for a favor from the loser?”

“A favor?”

Minho nods. “Anything. You can even ask me to take you for ice cream,” he teases.

Or to take me with you back to the city, Taemin responds internally. Why didn't he think of this before? The only person Jinki seems to trust is Minho, Minho who's from the city. If Taemin can convince him to take him back with him, even if it's just for the remainder of the summer, then he could just find his own way.

He wouldn't have to see this town ever again.

“Okay.”

Minho grins. “Ready … Set … “

“Go!” they both shout in unison, taking off on their boards

Too busy plotting his future dreams, Taemin forgot reality. He shouldn't be so disappointed when he climbs out of the ocean, Minho sitting by his board and waving gleefully. With more force than necessary, Taemin sticks his board in the sand beside Minho's.

“You're such a dick.”

“Uh huh,” Minho says, letting the comment roll away on the passing volleyball, hit too far by one of the guys playing not too far away. “I can ask a favor from you now.”

Taemin falls onto the sand. “Yeah, yeah. What is it?”

“A kiss.”

Forget the knots in his stomach because it's just jumped into his throat and constricted his wind pipe. Taemin chokes. “What - Are you crazy?”

Minho reclines back on his elbows. “What, you're not man enough to keep you word?”

Taemin's eyes dart around the crowded beach - but of course Minho positioned them in the most secluded part. “Even if I wanted to kiss you, we're in a public place,” he hisses, voice lowered as a precaution.

“So?”

“Are you stupid?” Taemin widens his eyes at the man. “I know you're ripped and all, but that doesn't mean you don't have a brain!”

Minho's eyebrows shoot up. “You think I'm ripped?”

Taemin rolls his eyes. “It's a fact, not an opinion.”

Raising his wet shirt to run a hand over his washboard abs, Minho nods his head along in agreement. “I guess you're right, no denying it.”

Taemin's mouth feels dry all of a sudden, but he can't look away from the rippling muscles. Stray water droplets run down the naturally tan skin. He forces his eyes shut, swallows thickly. Raging teenage hormones, nothing more …

“So, you going to do it now while no one's around?”

Taemin's eyes jump back open. How Minho always manages to breach his comfort zone without his knowledge he can't figure out. His eyes are piercing into his from only mere inches away. Taemin squirms, tries to look elsewhere, but can't.

Minho licks his lips, Taemin's eyes flick down to them.

Their bodies are radiating heat between the small gap separating them. Taemin can over analyze this, tell himself how dumb he is for falling fr such a juvenile trick … Or he could just write it off as a dare, a lost bet he has to make up for …

His body tilts forward before he can back out of it. Eyes shut as moist, plush lips meet. Taemin plans to wait two seconds, then pull away, but he doesn't expect the arms that move up from the sand to wrap around his torso and pull him flush against Minho. Instinctively, his arms worm their way around Minho's broad shoulders and his hands take hold of that messy head of hair.

The sun is warm on his back as Taemin melts into the kiss. He hasn't let himself go like this, be so close to another person, in … years. It has to be years. But it doesn't feel foreign, with Minho it's natural.

As if he isn't offering up his heart for this guy to tear to pieces.

Minho pulls away, eyes half lidded. “That .. “

Running a finger over his lips, Taemin finally allows his gaze to drop to the ground. “Um .. Should we get lunch?”

“We're covered in sand, probably should wash off first … “

Taemin knows exactly what Minho is suggesting. Sideways glancing at one of the beaches private showers, convenient for the tourists and couples who wanted, needed, a quick hook up. Is Taemin really going to be one of those people … ?

Minho helps pull him to his feet, only for Taemin to lose his balance and land with his body pressed against Minho's warm skin - wait, when did he lose his shirt?

“We probably should,” Taemin finally relents, feeling breathless as he stares, dazed, at the taller man.

Hands roam over smooth, sun kissed skin. Tongues mingle. Heat pools in regions of the body that haven't been stimulated in what feels like forever. The friction they're creating has his senses in overdrive, Taemin doesn't even think when he grinds harder, needier, against the toned body gliding along his own.

Minho's grunts goad him along and all of his rational thoughts are tossed aside. Why shouldn't he be doing this right now? There's nothing wrong with having a little fun, letting loose.

“Oh, you feel so good,” Minho moans, hungrily gathering Taemin in his arms, “Can I - please?”

Taemin knows exactly what is pressing against his clothed entrance. His bottom lip finds its way between his teeth. Everything comes to a halt. Is this what he wants?

Let loose.

“Do it,” Taemin whispers huskily through a curtain of damp brown locks.

He doesn't stop to consider what he's offering up, everything he's giving up, just for this one man. He doesn't stop to consider if Minho has earned this right, the right to take away something as precious as his virginity. Not the swelling regret, the surging ache from a broken heart.

Taemin casts all other thoughts to the side that don't pertain to the rippling, taut muscles working against his.

He grips Minho's back, revels in the warmth of his skin. Sweat beads roll down there bodies, mixing with the steady stream of water from above. The scent of coconut board wax wafts in the air and when Taemin is roughly shoved against the wall of the stall.

Adrenaline pumps through their veins - they could be found at any moment.

There's a short moment when Taemin is watching Minho roll a condom over his hot and heavy length that he wonders if Minho planned this. But then there are fingers working, caressing, knowing exactly what to do and where. His mind goes blank, his vision spotted.

Is it possible to feel this high?

Minho rocks him into oblivion.

Taemin's legs quake when they exit the shower. He runs a hand through his hair, can't gather enough air to puff out his cheeks. How can he pretend to be perfectly normal after that? That … that heavenly, mind blowing, erotic - he doesn't need a thesaurus to continue on, every time his mind flashes back to the scene, new adjectives jump to mind.

An arm is tossed over his shoulders, pulls him closer. Taemin looks up and finds Minho beaming, the afterglow closer to what would be expected from a player who scored the winning goal in a championship.

“What do you think?”

Taemin blinks. “I think hot shower sex makes me really hungry.”

“Smoothies?” Minho suggests with a laugh.

Taemin nods, lets relief wash over him at the lack of awkwardness between them. They're still the same, their relationship is still comfortable.

They're still good.

But as much as Taemin wants to leave it at that, he can't help but let his mind drift to day dreams. A bed, city noises filling the background like a dysfunctional yet beautiful tune, and a disheveled ponytail.

“Going in to the shop early?” Jinki questions over his morning tea as Taemin comes stumbling sleepily into the room.

“No, I was going to go around town with Minho before work … Where is he?”

“Gone.”

Taemin's feet root to the ground. “Gone, as in out? Or, gone, as in - “

“He packed up early this morning. He was in a hurry, I guess. Funny, I thought he was staying for a while longer … “

This isn't the first time reality has come crashing down, but the train wreck weight and shock has never gotten easier for Taemin to handle.

If he hadn't rekindled his relationship with Jinki, Taemin doesn't think he would have survived another heartbreak like this.


A summer, a year, they flash by.

Taemin has learned to breathe again, to sleep despite the dreams of wet skin on skin with a wood paneling back drop, to live. Sulking, being depressed, it does no good. Not when he has this.

Staring down at the ticket in his hand, Taemin lets all of his heart aches fly away on the breeze sifting through his blond locks. The city is only a train ride away. Freedom, a new beginning.

“You can call me anytime for anything.”

“I know.”

“Don't get involved in drugs - they're bad for you.”

“I know.”

“Don't go anywhere with a stranger.”

“Jinki,” Taemin interrupts with a snort, “Everyone will be a stranger there.”

His brother sucks in his bottom lip, worries at it while fidgeting at the platform. “What will you do then?”

Taemin smiles reassuringly. “Don't worry, Jinki. I'll be fine.”

He wishes he could bring himself to regret his choice to leave when he sees the tears pooling in his brother's eyes. But not even Jinki can stop him. Taemin steps forward, pulls his older brother into a hug. Jinki has done so much for him, if only he could show his appreciation.

Jinki takes off his glasses, pulls out a handkerchief to rub at his eyes. Dabs at years of memories, at the loss of yet another family member.

“Come and visit me whenever you want to.”

Jinki clears his throat, straightens and falls back into his role as elder. “Of course I will. You won't get rid of my so easily.”

“I don't want to get rid of you.”

Jinki nods. “Good.”

The train pulls into the station. A soft sniffle is all Taemin hears of Jinki when his way out of town comes to a halt.

“See ya' later.”

Jinki squints to hold back a fresh batch of tears. “See ya'.”

Taemin waves, jumps on the train and takes his seat among workers migrating to Seoul after the weekend. He rubs shoulders with suits as he settles in for the ride.

How is a person suppose to feel after fulfilling a lifelong dream?

Awe, shock, and wonder all paint themselves across Taemin's darkly tanned face - he never realized how deep it was until he came to the city amongst the palest Koreans he thinks he's ever seen - as he steps into the bustling streets of Seoul. The splendor of the new city is overwhelming, everything he could have wished for and more. It's different from the city his mother hung pictures up of, modernized even just less than a decade later, but it's still breath taking.

He checks the address for his new apartment.

It takes him nearly an hour to navigate to the relatively small housing complex. He meets the land lord, gets the key to his room, and takes what luggage he brought with him to the p refurbished apartment.

It's a big change from the traditional home back on the beach It hits him as soon as he opens the door. Everything is new in the one bedroom flat. Taemin runs a hand along the freshly painted walls, takes in the scent of the city mixed with polished wood. Jinki made sure he had a nice place.

This is home.

Taemin can definitely get use to it.

A scholarship to the near by university and a job already secured at a restaurant down the street, owned by a couple who used to live in town. Taemin is busier than he ever was, juggling classes and work. He doesn't even think about a social life.

So when he's invited to a party, he's caught off guard.

“C'mon, Taeminnie, you never have any fun,” coos a third year at the university, Sooyeon.

Another nods in agreement, Jessica he thinks she goes by. “We all adore you, so come and let loose a little, kid.” She nudges his side with a delicate elbow.

If they want him to go, there's really no reason to stay cooped up. Besides, this is the city life he's always wanted. Parties, hot girls, fun.

He shoots one of his shy smiles the older girls in his classes have fallen in love with. “Okay, then.”

The girls squeal, clap in excitement.

Taemin hits the streets after classes in search of a new outfit. He can't go to a party in his boring old clothes. He needs something cool … He goes to a shop near his apartment, fingers neon skinnies fit for a rave. He's been eying them for a while, but didn't have a reason to get them until now.

“Going to a party?”

Taemin freezes. He would recognize that baritone anywhere …

No, it can't be. Wouldn't he recognize Taemin? He wouldn't be so calm.

“From personal experience, I would suggest the pair to the left. A lot more comfortable when you're dancing.”

Heart in a frenzy, Taemin's mind races to find a solution to escape this situation unscathed. Should he just run out of the store? That wouldn't be weird at all … He'll just have to face him …

“If you think so,” Taemin says, voice steady, surprising himself. He picks up a pair of the stylishly torn jeans, turns and sets them on the counter.

Just like he knew, Minho's the employee at the register. He doesn't look the same. The ponytail is gone, replaced by a short, clean cut. His face is thinner, older, more mature. Biceps are defined by the short, cuffed sleeves of the uniform shirt and the material stretches across pecs. Minho hasn't stopped hitting the gym, that's for sure.

The man blanches.

“.. Taemin?”

The college student pushes down the attraction that oozes from his every pore - Minho used him - and tries to keep his calm facade intact.

“Hey, didn't think I would bump into you,” he says while taking out his wallet.

“I didn't know - When did you get here?”

“I came at the beginning of fall semester. I guess you wouldn't know, cutting ties does that.” A tight smile.

Minho shakes his head in disbelief. “I can't believe … “

“Are you going to ring these up?”

“Right.”

Nonchalant. Taemin is the very personification of the word. He exchanges the money for the pants, ignores how his skin crawls at the brief contact with the other man, smiles politely then turns to leave.

“Wait.”

He stops midway to the door.

“Where … Where are you living?”

A chill sweeps over his skin, makes the hairs on his arm stand up. He should keep walking, never step into this store again, never look back …

“The apartments up the street.”

“Han's?”

“Yeah. 320.”

It's harmless, old friends catching up.

But they're not old friends and “catching up” for them is awkward “um”'s and “er”'s separated by even more awkward silence. Taemin is kicking himself in the ass for ever giving Minho his address. He's also pounding his mind for an answer as to what would bring Minho over in the first place. He abandoned him as soon as he opened up. That's unforgivable.

It should be.

“Why are you here?” Taemin finally demands, tired of beating around the bush.

Minho looks up from the couch where he's seated with a hospitable cup of tea. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Life?”

“Minho.”

The man sets his cup down on the coffee table. “Look, Tae, about last summer - “

“It was a big mistake? You regret it all? Yeah, kinda got that by your exit.”

Minho's lips form a tight line. “That's not what I was going to say.”

“Then what, Minho? Because, honestly, that's the only explanation I can handle!”

The outburst wasn't suppose to happen, Taemin was suppose to keep his feelings bottled up inside. Hand tugs at his hair, cheeks puff and he exhales deeply. He needs to get a handle on himself.

Minho looks completely caught off guard. “I'm .. I'm so sorry.”

“No, no,” he waves away the apology, “Just say whatever you need to get off your chest, I'll keep my mouth shut.”

“I didn't leave because I regretted what I did. I felt scared.”

“Fear of commitment?” Taemin suggests sarcastically with a snort.

“Fear of hurting someone I love.”

The look in Minho's eyes expresses longing Taemin can relate to. Past regrets, people gone too soon. He drifts back to the day Jinki told him about how Minho's parents had died in a car accident only hours after coming to blows over his future. Minho felt guilt because of their deaths and that was what caused him to be so cautious with Taemin ...

“Love … That's a strong word.”

Be straight forward, to the point. Don't think of emotions. Taemin swallows down his own fear, his own joy, at the single word. “Love.” In books and movies, he would always laugh at how the main character would handle the word with such dramatized reactions. But now he understands.

Love isn't something to take lightly.

It means giving up something precious, making stupid choices, trusting without cause, and forgiving something unforgivable ….

Minho gets to his feet, crosses the distance between them in no time. “Taemin, I love you. I can't hold back anymore. I ran back to the city to try and push the feeling away, but seeing you again … “

Taking an unsteady step back, away, Taemin shakes his head. “This is too fast.”

“You're right, I'm sorry.”

Taemin nods slowly, gears turning and churning in his head. “How about … you come to a party with me tonight?”

“A party?” Minho repeats.

“It's just with some college friends, nothing you can't handle.”

Minho grins dumbly. “Yeah, okay. Okay … I'll pick you up at eight?”

“Don't think of this as a date.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

The selective speaking making a reappearance, Minho goes to the front door and begins to put on his shoes. That big, dumb smile still on his face. Taemin's never seen anything like it, caused by himself none the less.

Grey walls blended into white tiled floors that bled into his red Nikes. Taemin feels like he's standing up straight, but then, when did the floor get to be in front of him? His stomach is floating somewhere above his head, which doesn't feel quite right either.

“You shouldn't have drank so much.”

The muffled words filter in. Taemin reels. “This is your fault!”

A blurry Minho shoves open the door to his apartment while still balancing him. “How is this my fault?” he questions while setting the thin student on his couch.

If it weren't for Minho's looming, glowing, achingly perfect presence beside him the whole party, Taemin wouldn't have had the need to calm his nerves with alcohol. Obviously, it was the older man's fault for being there and causing this rush of nerves. Obviously.

“It's obvious,” Taemin works out finally, tongue slow to form the words.

“You know what's obvious? You're drunk.” Minho sets an empty waste basket beside Taemin.

“What's this for?”

“Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough.”

Youthful vigor coming to play, Taemin purses his lips in defiance. Minho is back to being cocky and full of himself. Well, heres some reality for him, Taemin is a big boy who can take care of himself.

A slight blush crawls to his face.

Minho is a big boy, too. He proved that last summer …

Taemin seductively sets a hand on Minho's chest, plays with the collar of his shirt. “I'm feeling a little light headed, could you help me to my bed?”

“You're a little more than light headed,” Minho comments dryly but doesn't hesitate to sling the smaller man's arm around his shoulders. “Where's your room?”

Taemin leads him to his bedroom, hidden behind the kitchen. Minho is falling right into his trap …

He falls back onto his bed, pulls Minho down on top of him. Taemin's going to have his way with him, and Minho will be helpless against his sex appeal.

He leans forward to capture Minho's lips in his own.

Car horns have never sounded so ugly before.

Taemin buries his head further underneath his pillow, begs for the city noise to return to its normal symphony. Head ringing, he searches his bed for his iPod, always close by. His fingers hit an abnormal road block. After some poking and prodding, he manages to peer out from beneath his pillow to spy on the foreign bedmate.

A sleeping, shirtless god is what he's met with.

Taemin jumps out of bed, looks down at himself, and grabs the closest piece of clothing. No, no, no, this did not happen. Ignoring how the shirt wants to fall over his shoulder, Taemin makes a dash out of the small bedroom.

Pacing the length of the kitchen, he busies himself making coffee while going over possible scenarios as to why Minho was in a very compromising position. In his bed, none the less. They went to the party and … Minho broke his leg and needed a place to crash? Right. Good one, Tae.

Amidst berating himself for being so easy, Minho seats himself on the counter and grabs himself a cup of coffee. It's not for another couple of minutes that Taemin finally notices the deep brown eyes watching him.

“Why are you even still here, shouldn't you be running for the hills?”

“You're wearing - “

“Are we going to do this? Have an awkward morning after - “

“- my shirt.”

“- avoid what went on last night and pretend it's perfectly normal?”

Taemin blinks. That would explain the ill fit … He unbuttons the shirt, intent on giving it back. “Just go. I don't want to do this.”

“This is the thanks I get for staying up with you all night while you were puking your guts out?”

“... Excuse me?”

Minho sips his coffee. “Yeah, I ended up crashing here because you were so bad off. You shouldn't drink tequila, Tae.”

His face heats up quickly as Taemin scrunches his eyebrows in thought. “So we didn't do anything last night?”

“Anything .. ?”

“You know what I'm talking about.”

Minho shakes his head, small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Don't worry, I didn't take advantage of you.”

What a relief … Then why did his stomach drop? To hook up with Minho and have alcohol to blame it on - no, he's not going back there. He's moved on from Minho, he can't just go crawling back. Taemin owes it to himself, after everything …

“Unless you want me to?”

Taemin purses his lips. “Maybe you should go.”

Minho immediately looks apologetic. “Too fast?” he asks, voice low and sweet.

A rush of blood spreads through Taemin's body. He knows it can't be true, a young guy like Minho “in love” with a nobody like him. But it's a nice thought. With Minho looking and talking to him so sweetly .. He could convince himself it's the real thing.

Real love.

Positioning himself between Minho's knees before he can back out, Taemin stares up at him with large eyes. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“What you told me yesterday … “

Minho's face is flushed, his words coming out airy like he can't breathe properly. He looks, sounds completely wrecked, and all because of Taemin. He slides down from the counter, his body now pressed against Taemin's.

The words “I love you” are hot and moist against his neck as Minho takes hold of his hips and tugs him closer. A shiver of anticipation runs down Taemin's spine. Goosebumps tickle at his skin when Minho's already half hard member is pressed against his thigh.

Without thinking, Taemin moves his hand down to cup Minho.

A craving fills the pit of his stomach, worse than any hunger he's ever felt. Lust, love. Whichever it is, he can't hold it back. He palms Minho's dick, watches him squirm in pleasure. Gaining confidence, he allows his fingers to take hold of the zipper to Minho's jeans.

Their eyes meet, Taemin's seeking permission. Minho can't hide his enjoyment, dipping his head down to catch Taemin's lips for a hungry kiss.

That's all Taemin needs.

The zipper is down as soon as he hits his knees. After the quick hand job, Minho is completely hard, his cock swollen and ready for Taemin to engulf.

Inexperienced, Taemin has to spend a few seconds gathering his thoughts when he is face to face with Minho's member - just as large as he remembers, but quite the problem to fit in his mouth. He cups Minho's balls, massaging tentatively while licking at the tip of his cock.

Deep throating isn't as difficult as Taemin first assumed. Caught up in the moment, swallowing Minho's dick seems like nothing. He bobs his head in a steady rhythm, hums as Minho pounds his palm against the counter in an attempt to control himself.

His tongue is slick as he laps up Minho, savoring every bit of him as if he needed it to last him a lifetime. Minho bucks his hips, pushing further into the warm cavern of Taemin's mouth.

Minho's moans fill the kitchen. Taemin is practically purring, the erotic sounds causing him to work faster. It's not long before Minho finishes, releasing into Taemin fully.

Taemin smacks his lips contently as he dips his head, letting Minho's member slide out.

Minho breathes heavily above him as Taemin gathers himself. Straightening back up, he has to lean against Minho for support. He's slightly taken aback when he feels Minho already growing erect again.

“That wasn't good enough?”

“No, just … “

“What?” Taemin nips at Minho's neck.

“I've been picturing you on the counter, legs spread for me .. Wanna make it happen?” says Minho, voice low and husky.

Taemin can already feel the blood rushing to his nether regions before Minho's hands snake around to grab his ass. Anyone else squeezing his firm ass would just set him off, but Minho's nimble fingers only manage to work magic. He can't help but roll his hips against Minho, letting him know just how much he wants to make that happen.

Without hesitation, Minho swiftly picks Taemin up and off the ground, setting him on the counter a moment later. He's never been so thankful for not wearing pants before. Minho makes quick work of tossing aside his boxer shorts, his dick already bobbing in the open air.

Minho isn't straight to the point like last time. He takes his time, whispers sweet words in Taemin's ear while he gently prepares him. Each touch has a purpose, to convey his love. Taemin can sense it even through the piercing pain as he enters.

Love fills him up.

It doesn't seem right that Minho should have this sort of power over him, to take control of his mind and body like he was born to. They fit together as if made for each other.

Taemin finds himself saying the words himself. “I love you, I love you,” like a mantra, falling from his lips in song.

Skin slapping against skin, moans and voices joining together in harmony, the beat of Minho's thrusts resounding from the counter.

It's a song sweeter than any the city could make.

Taemin shifts, Minho's stiff cotton shirt crinkling along with his movements. He doesn't want to open his eyes. He recognizes the feeling between his legs, recognizes the heart ache that will follow.

“You awake, love?”

The back of a hand softly caresses his face. He's not alone .. ?

Taemin's eyelids flutter open. Minho. Minho is in bed beside him. Panic doesn't rush through him, but relief does.

“You're here,” he says breathlessly.

“Of course I'm here.”

For some strange reason, Jinki doesn't seem surprised when Taemin announces over the phone that he's moving into Minho's apartment and that they're desperately in love.

End

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