part one
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The taller boy blinks. "Does it really bother you so much?"
Minho has really, really big eyes Kibum realizes, hands flying to his polyester mix hem. He plucks the loose thread taut and not, making a sort of clumsy rhythm and they stare at each other for a few seconds in the quiet backstage light before he decides, "Yes, yes it does."
Maybe it was the hesitation, maybe it was the way Minho was so much more of everything Kibum tried to be, but Minho didn't stop and Kibum couldn't stop him. Their kiss in the third scene of the second act, to be precise: a simple, three word stage direction with no strings attached that left Kibum freefalling into Minho's arms. He would press his lips in a tight line and Minho would smile his movie star smile and punch through Kibum's defenses until Kibum was sighing, making Minho think it was alright to say things like, "You like it, I heard you, you moaned. I felt it."
He says it with a small smirk, dangerously in character and Kibum is completely beside himself because Minho is blurring the lines until Kibum is furious enough to make threats.
"If you do it again, I'll bite your tongue."
The next night he feels a drop of sweat roll through the thick make up on the back of his neck before Minho's tongue, warm and small, curls into his mouth like an old friend and his teeth sink into it. He doesn't push Minho out though, he doesn't let him go, he just holds it there, frozen under the bright lights, panting with shuttered eyes and keeping Minho's tongue captive. Minho tastes like peppermint, then blood, a burst of copper between Kibum's lips before he's pulling free.
He stares at Kibum who smiles, the dimple in his cheek sharpening as he grins wider.
He bursts out laughing backstage.
He's still breathless when Minho gets three stitches in his tongue, and he's sold on the idea when he's laving it better with his own. Minho strolls out of the ER a marked man, Kibum giggling into the crook of his neck. The show is long over and the audience is home but really, it's all just beginning.
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his polyester mix this is a t-shirt?
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i guess? i got lazy, ngl.
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the dimple in his cheek sharpening and
Minho tastes like peppermint, then blood, a burst of copper
unlike the anon above, i don't really have a problem with the content plot-wise (the idea of somebody biting someone's tongue) but there's not enough energy somehow. it needs to feel more dangerous. right now everything is too metaphorical and hazy. the voice is kind-of working but it needs to be more focused.
lol, but seriously, don't take my crit too harshly. it's perfectly fine for fanfic, anon. keep writing :)
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