shinee/jongtae/#5
anonymous
November 17 2011, 09:11:17 UTC
Taemin was a phantom, shadow soft and paper thin each time he appeared to Jonghyun. Jonghyun would spread himself and pretend not to notice the way Taemin's pupils were almost always dilated, eyes smiling down at Jonghyun as though Taemin could see right through him. "Relax," Taemin would say, or maybe Jonghyun was telling himself that. Taemin cradled Jonghyun's face in between his hands and canted lazily against him, just looking at Jonghyun, eyes black with magnetism.
Jonghyun told himself that what happened in Jonghyun's room was a recurring dream, whenever he dozed off to the image of Taemin in class. Taemin at the window, or straddling his desk. The night after Minho and Kibum decided to use an ouija board, Taemin was livid, wasn't the slender dream that Jonghyun shivered in bed to each night. His breath was hot against Jonghyun's neck, cocooning the covers over the both of them, but it wasn't as suffocating as Taemin's lips against his. Jonghyun couldn't explain the scratches on his back to Minho and Kibum in the morning, though they wouldn't have believed him anyway.
Sometimes Taemin's weight on his chest would wake Jonghyun. Sometimes it was Taemin's palm, heavy under his throat. Jonghyun's eyelashes would spike with tears before he opened his eyes, and when the moisture cleared Taemin would be gone.
Jonghyun told himself that what happened in Jonghyun's room was a recurring dream, whenever he dozed off to the image of Taemin in class. Taemin at the window, or straddling his desk. The night after Minho and Kibum decided to use an ouija board, Taemin was livid, wasn't the slender dream that Jonghyun shivered in bed to each night. His breath was hot against Jonghyun's neck, cocooning the covers over the both of them, but it wasn't as suffocating as Taemin's lips against his. Jonghyun couldn't explain the scratches on his back to Minho and Kibum in the morning, though they wouldn't have believed him anyway.
Sometimes Taemin's weight on his chest would wake Jonghyun. Sometimes it was Taemin's palm, heavy under his throat. Jonghyun's eyelashes would spike with tears before he opened his eyes, and when the moisture cleared Taemin would be gone.
The clock always read 3am.
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