Your Hardened Lips
Your Hardened Lips
R; SHINee-2min; Romance Smut; fatdix
All that sugar can’t be good for your body.
Your Hardened Lips
Minho has always enjoyed watching Taemin on warm days.
On warm days, Taemin makes regular trips to the kitchen, pulling out a grape Popsicle from the freezer to cool himself in the sticky, summer swelter. His hair is pulled up in a band, beads of perspiration dotting his creamy skin. A few stray locks of hair always stick to his heaty cheeks, and Minho can never resist nudging them behind Taemin’s ears, where they belong. Taemin tries not to show Minho that his throat is dryer than a twig, so the grape Popsicle juice trickles down his chin while he tries not to swallow too loudly.
“You need to drink some water, dongsaeng,” he chides, “all that sugar can’t be good for your body.”
His look is stern and stoic, his eyes piercing, his lips unmoving. Concern is not something that Minho knows how to express.
“You noticed, Hyung,” he shyly admits. Defeat, he’ll have to get a glass of water now. The Popsicle stick begins to tatter under his teeth as he chews, awaiting his punishment. Taemin feels a chill that has nothing to do with his Popsicle that he just ravenously devoured.
“Take that stick out, Taemin.”
Strong, steady arm grabs Taemin from behind. Glass of water pushed up to his purple stained lips. The water goes in, and he feels his throat relax under its icy caress. Water tastes a lot better today. Ice cubes drift their way to the shore of his mouth and he takes one in.
Hardened lips next to a blushing ear.
“Good boy,” he whispers. Minho hesitates, teeth ready to tear away at soft skin. He settles for a nibble at the tip of his ear, the heat is extraordinary. Dongsaeng must feel very embarrassed by this, but he doesn’t care, because the rest of the boys are away today, because the rest of the boys have a long list of groceries to get through (one which involves a few crates of grape flavoured popsicles) and mostly because the rest of the boys already know.
“You shouldn’t act so coy, Taemin. I know how you like it when I bite you here…”
Oh.
Taemin feels like the water he just drank, chilly and utterly incapable of standing straight. Little body collapses into strong body, melded bodies collapse onto couch.
Hardened lips brush the nape of Taemin’s neck.
Mm.
Minho catches the apple as he kisses a trail down Taemin’s neck. Hyung is on top now, his hands feeling around for buttons to undo. He bites into soft skin of the neck, feels the vibration of a groan forming at the base of the throat, feels the blood swirling around the skin under his lips. A mark, a brand, Taemin is his. Minho feels a swelling under his thigh, which he realises, is pressed between Taemin’s skinny legs. He notices Taemin’s face, it is uncharacteristically unsmiling, his look no doubt one of uninhibited ecstasy.
“Minho can’t do this to his dongsaeng,” he whimpers under the hands that massage him, hands that have removed his shirt to reveal marble chest, hands that have begun to work his length through infuriatingly thick denim, moan after moan escaping from his lips. He has long forgotten to catch the noises before they come out.
“Minho will drive Taemin crazy.”
He is breathless.
“That’s the idea. I’m punishing you.”
Taemin didn’t realize he was undressing Minho, didn’t notice when Minho ended up only in boxers, didn’t catch when he was completely naked, pressed against his body, passionately kissing Minho, sucking on his neck harder than he has ever done to any old popsicle. He doesn’t remember exactly when he started to feel Minho buried inside him, throbbing, hot.
Minho begins to move, slowly at first, he gives Taemin the chance to dig his fingernails into his back before he picks up his pace. He feels a little bit bad, a little bit uneasy, but it has to be done. It was for Taemin’s own good.
“Will Taemin get punished again if he does wrong?” he manages between stifled cries, eyes shut tight, all energy channeled into Minho as he continues to move, faster, harder. Taemin lies beneath him, legs wrapped around him, unable to feel anything but Minho.
“You know I only punish Taemin because I love him.” He answers between harsh thrusts.
Fingers weave through shiny, wet hair, grabs a fistful, clutches Taemin to his heart and they come together, both gasping each other’s names, Minho crying out much louder than he normally would in a fit of misguided control.
Bodies crumble into each other, arched backs come loose, kisses are interrupted with smiles. Clothes are put back on between continuous giggles and sweet nothings.
Taemin flips on the television, head settled into Minho’s shoulder, sighing contently. In their heat, he begins to fidget.
“Sorry Hyung, but I think I need another Popsicle.”
Minho has always enjoyed watching Taemin on warm days.
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R; SHINee-2min; Romance Smut; fatdix
All that sugar can’t be good for your body.
Your Hardened Lips
Minho has always enjoyed watching Taemin on warm days.
On warm days, Taemin makes regular trips to the kitchen, pulling out a grape Popsicle from the freezer to cool himself in the sticky, summer swelter. His hair is pulled up in a band, beads of perspiration dotting his creamy skin. A few stray locks of hair always stick to his heaty cheeks, and Minho can never resist nudging them behind Taemin’s ears, where they belong. Taemin tries not to show Minho that his throat is dryer than a twig, so the grape Popsicle juice trickles down his chin while he tries not to swallow too loudly.
“You need to drink some water, dongsaeng,” he chides, “all that sugar can’t be good for your body.”
His look is stern and stoic, his eyes piercing, his lips unmoving. Concern is not something that Minho knows how to express.
“You noticed, Hyung,” he shyly admits. Defeat, he’ll have to get a glass of water now. The Popsicle stick begins to tatter under his teeth as he chews, awaiting his punishment. Taemin feels a chill that has nothing to do with his Popsicle that he just ravenously devoured.
“Take that stick out, Taemin.”
Strong, steady arm grabs Taemin from behind. Glass of water pushed up to his purple stained lips. The water goes in, and he feels his throat relax under its icy caress. Water tastes a lot better today. Ice cubes drift their way to the shore of his mouth and he takes one in.
Hardened lips next to a blushing ear.
“Good boy,” he whispers. Minho hesitates, teeth ready to tear away at soft skin. He settles for a nibble at the tip of his ear, the heat is extraordinary. Dongsaeng must feel very embarrassed by this, but he doesn’t care, because the rest of the boys are away today, because the rest of the boys have a long list of groceries to get through (one which involves a few crates of grape flavoured popsicles) and mostly because the rest of the boys already know.
“You shouldn’t act so coy, Taemin. I know how you like it when I bite you here…”
Oh.
Taemin feels like the water he just drank, chilly and utterly incapable of standing straight. Little body collapses into strong body, melded bodies collapse onto couch.
Hardened lips brush the nape of Taemin’s neck.
Mm.
Minho catches the apple as he kisses a trail down Taemin’s neck. Hyung is on top now, his hands feeling around for buttons to undo. He bites into soft skin of the neck, feels the vibration of a groan forming at the base of the throat, feels the blood swirling around the skin under his lips. A mark, a brand, Taemin is his. Minho feels a swelling under his thigh, which he realises, is pressed between Taemin’s skinny legs. He notices Taemin’s face, it is uncharacteristically unsmiling, his look no doubt one of uninhibited ecstasy.
“Minho can’t do this to his dongsaeng,” he whimpers under the hands that massage him, hands that have removed his shirt to reveal marble chest, hands that have begun to work his length through infuriatingly thick denim, moan after moan escaping from his lips. He has long forgotten to catch the noises before they come out.
“Minho will drive Taemin crazy.”
He is breathless.
“That’s the idea. I’m punishing you.”
Taemin didn’t realize he was undressing Minho, didn’t notice when Minho ended up only in boxers, didn’t catch when he was completely naked, pressed against his body, passionately kissing Minho, sucking on his neck harder than he has ever done to any old popsicle. He doesn’t remember exactly when he started to feel Minho buried inside him, throbbing, hot.
Minho begins to move, slowly at first, he gives Taemin the chance to dig his fingernails into his back before he picks up his pace. He feels a little bit bad, a little bit uneasy, but it has to be done. It was for Taemin’s own good.
“Will Taemin get punished again if he does wrong?” he manages between stifled cries, eyes shut tight, all energy channeled into Minho as he continues to move, faster, harder. Taemin lies beneath him, legs wrapped around him, unable to feel anything but Minho.
“You know I only punish Taemin because I love him.” He answers between harsh thrusts.
Fingers weave through shiny, wet hair, grabs a fistful, clutches Taemin to his heart and they come together, both gasping each other’s names, Minho crying out much louder than he normally would in a fit of misguided control.
Bodies crumble into each other, arched backs come loose, kisses are interrupted with smiles. Clothes are put back on between continuous giggles and sweet nothings.
Taemin flips on the television, head settled into Minho’s shoulder, sighing contently. In their heat, he begins to fidget.
“Sorry Hyung, but I think I need another Popsicle.”
Minho has always enjoyed watching Taemin on warm days.
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