Transient {OnTae fanfic}
Title: Transient.
Pairing: Onew x Taemin
Rating: PG-15
I don’t know how to correct the past;
the best I can do now is attempt to erase it.
It might not work, but I have to try.
i.
The tears came trailing down his cheeks slowly, naturally, unobstructed. He made no effort to blink them back, to put up a strong façade and feign being fine. He had no more strength in him to fight, to battle the crap that was taking over his life. He had lost the one person he could confide in, the person dearest to his heart. He had made a mistake, one of large proportions, one he did not expect to be forgiven for. There was no point begging for repentance; the boy knew he did not deserve it.
A huge wave of emotion rode over his lifeless soul. Make-up was streaming down the sides of his face, and he probably looked like a hideous creature now. At least then, his outer appearance would match what he truly thought of himself. And apparently, that was how a certain someone viewed him.
Jinki had not been functioning for days.
ii.
Taemin lingers a little in bed on a Sunday morning, unwillingly to wake from his deep slumber. Someone enters the room, and trudges over to the curtains, shoving them open. Taemin curses whoever it was. The person sits by the side of his bed, and brushes Taemin’s bed hair away from his eyes. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” He tilted his head in surprise, pleasantly surprised to hear that voice first thing in the morning.
“Jinki.” He struggles to sit up, tiredness getting the better of him. Engulfed in a hug, he whispers good morning. He lies there, trapped in the confines of Jinki’s warmth. Days like these were few and rare, when the two sat together in bed, with the next course of action being so familiar to them both. They go quiet for a moment, letting each others’ being there, as well as pure existence, sink in, their thoughts coloring the silence.
Jinki makes the first move, grabbing the younger boy tightly, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. They never want to let each other go. Wanting to prove himself, Taemin grabs him by his waist, snuggling his face in the crook of his neck. His emaciated frame fits well in Jinki’s well-built one, and the latter swears he will feed him enough to fatten him up, so he would not look sickly all the time. Their bodies move slowly and surely, not wanting to rush, taking their time.
He grazes a finger or two across Taemin’s cheekbones. Taemin twitches at the touch. He covers Jinki’s mouth with a kiss, starting slow, entering restricted territory. Jinki flinches at the abrupt action, before relaxing his body. What they were doing feels so good, he doesn’t scare that Taemin was a minor.
The affection between them builds up, causing their hands to move to places they were not supposed to be. Jinki’s hands are placed firmly on the boy’s back, only a thin layer of cotton between them. His hands course up skillfully, having already memorized every curve, every dent, every bone. Taemin smiles inconspicuously, wishing that Jinki’s hands would never stop. It feels like they were meant to do this; skin-on-skin was the only way they knew. They are used to this, maybe too used to it for their own good. But nothing is stopping them now.
Those days were temporary, never were going to last. Taemin hated himself for being the last to see it.
iii.
“Jinki hyung!” Taemin bounces animatedly into their dorm, excited to see him. A day spent without him in school was seven hours of torment. He rushes down the narrow path leading to Jinki’s room, the one he shares with Jonghyun. Everyone else was out - only Jinki’s shoes were placed outside.
One hand on the doorknob, he turns it open. Slowly, his eyes widen. The room was a huge mess; things were flung off tabletops, the shelves of magazines strewn over the once bare floor. The lava lamp he had given Jinki lies on its side, its insides threatening to flow out of its cheap plastic shell. His mind flashes back to the days when the floor could actually be seen. What happened in here?
Taemin clambered over the hill of books, reaching the bunk bed in an instance. He climbs up the ladder with the speed of a gymnast, and sees Jinki curled up like an embryo. Tense, he places a hand on the small of his back. “Hyung?”
Jinki curls up more tightly, hands locking both his knees, as if protecting him from the cruel reality of the world. He hated having to act like this in front of the one boy he had truly loved. But he knew, in the wasteland of his heart, that they needed to break free.
“Go away, Taemin.” He struggles to get his voice to come out normal, without a hint that the tears were coming, quickly, painfully. Taemin had always been a stubborn one, unwilling to listen unless he knew the reasons why. He settled on the frame of the bed, worried about Jinki. What happened to the organized, collected person he once knew? It seemed like that part of reality had been stripped away, leaving something exposed underneath.
“What’s wrong?” Taemin’s voice was hushed. Jinki felt disgust for himself, blocking out the temptation to forget everything he had spent days thinking about. Then his work would come to waste.
The urgency in him elevates, and he turns pushing Taemin off his bed. “I told you to go away!” Taken aback, Taemin backed down obediently, hurt that he was being pushed away. Jinki felt the need to justify his actions, and added, albeit softly, “just listen to me, Taemin, and leave. It’s for your own good.”
iv.
They never made eye contact with each other again. Jinki tried smiling at Taemin, but he avoided his gaze, focusing his eyes on the ground instead. Their irresistible affection for each other was a thing of the past, not necessarily something Jinki wanted to think about.
It was the truth, he knew. There was no point in denying something that had clearly happened. Strong emotions stayed with you forever, and they guided a person’s actions after. He regretted the truth, the events that had played out between him and Taemin.
The past was there for people for remember. The best he could do now was attempt to erase it.
Spur of the moment thing (:
Pairing: Onew x Taemin
Rating: PG-15
I don’t know how to correct the past;
the best I can do now is attempt to erase it.
It might not work, but I have to try.
i.
The tears came trailing down his cheeks slowly, naturally, unobstructed. He made no effort to blink them back, to put up a strong façade and feign being fine. He had no more strength in him to fight, to battle the crap that was taking over his life. He had lost the one person he could confide in, the person dearest to his heart. He had made a mistake, one of large proportions, one he did not expect to be forgiven for. There was no point begging for repentance; the boy knew he did not deserve it.
A huge wave of emotion rode over his lifeless soul. Make-up was streaming down the sides of his face, and he probably looked like a hideous creature now. At least then, his outer appearance would match what he truly thought of himself. And apparently, that was how a certain someone viewed him.
Jinki had not been functioning for days.
ii.
Taemin lingers a little in bed on a Sunday morning, unwillingly to wake from his deep slumber. Someone enters the room, and trudges over to the curtains, shoving them open. Taemin curses whoever it was. The person sits by the side of his bed, and brushes Taemin’s bed hair away from his eyes. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” He tilted his head in surprise, pleasantly surprised to hear that voice first thing in the morning.
“Jinki.” He struggles to sit up, tiredness getting the better of him. Engulfed in a hug, he whispers good morning. He lies there, trapped in the confines of Jinki’s warmth. Days like these were few and rare, when the two sat together in bed, with the next course of action being so familiar to them both. They go quiet for a moment, letting each others’ being there, as well as pure existence, sink in, their thoughts coloring the silence.
Jinki makes the first move, grabbing the younger boy tightly, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. They never want to let each other go. Wanting to prove himself, Taemin grabs him by his waist, snuggling his face in the crook of his neck. His emaciated frame fits well in Jinki’s well-built one, and the latter swears he will feed him enough to fatten him up, so he would not look sickly all the time. Their bodies move slowly and surely, not wanting to rush, taking their time.
He grazes a finger or two across Taemin’s cheekbones. Taemin twitches at the touch. He covers Jinki’s mouth with a kiss, starting slow, entering restricted territory. Jinki flinches at the abrupt action, before relaxing his body. What they were doing feels so good, he doesn’t scare that Taemin was a minor.
The affection between them builds up, causing their hands to move to places they were not supposed to be. Jinki’s hands are placed firmly on the boy’s back, only a thin layer of cotton between them. His hands course up skillfully, having already memorized every curve, every dent, every bone. Taemin smiles inconspicuously, wishing that Jinki’s hands would never stop. It feels like they were meant to do this; skin-on-skin was the only way they knew. They are used to this, maybe too used to it for their own good. But nothing is stopping them now.
Those days were temporary, never were going to last. Taemin hated himself for being the last to see it.
iii.
“Jinki hyung!” Taemin bounces animatedly into their dorm, excited to see him. A day spent without him in school was seven hours of torment. He rushes down the narrow path leading to Jinki’s room, the one he shares with Jonghyun. Everyone else was out - only Jinki’s shoes were placed outside.
One hand on the doorknob, he turns it open. Slowly, his eyes widen. The room was a huge mess; things were flung off tabletops, the shelves of magazines strewn over the once bare floor. The lava lamp he had given Jinki lies on its side, its insides threatening to flow out of its cheap plastic shell. His mind flashes back to the days when the floor could actually be seen. What happened in here?
Taemin clambered over the hill of books, reaching the bunk bed in an instance. He climbs up the ladder with the speed of a gymnast, and sees Jinki curled up like an embryo. Tense, he places a hand on the small of his back. “Hyung?”
Jinki curls up more tightly, hands locking both his knees, as if protecting him from the cruel reality of the world. He hated having to act like this in front of the one boy he had truly loved. But he knew, in the wasteland of his heart, that they needed to break free.
“Go away, Taemin.” He struggles to get his voice to come out normal, without a hint that the tears were coming, quickly, painfully. Taemin had always been a stubborn one, unwilling to listen unless he knew the reasons why. He settled on the frame of the bed, worried about Jinki. What happened to the organized, collected person he once knew? It seemed like that part of reality had been stripped away, leaving something exposed underneath.
“What’s wrong?” Taemin’s voice was hushed. Jinki felt disgust for himself, blocking out the temptation to forget everything he had spent days thinking about. Then his work would come to waste.
The urgency in him elevates, and he turns pushing Taemin off his bed. “I told you to go away!” Taken aback, Taemin backed down obediently, hurt that he was being pushed away. Jinki felt the need to justify his actions, and added, albeit softly, “just listen to me, Taemin, and leave. It’s for your own good.”
iv.
They never made eye contact with each other again. Jinki tried smiling at Taemin, but he avoided his gaze, focusing his eyes on the ground instead. Their irresistible affection for each other was a thing of the past, not necessarily something Jinki wanted to think about.
It was the truth, he knew. There was no point in denying something that had clearly happened. Strong emotions stayed with you forever, and they guided a person’s actions after. He regretted the truth, the events that had played out between him and Taemin.
The past was there for people for remember. The best he could do now was attempt to erase it.
Spur of the moment thing (: