three shinee shorts and an f(x) tidbit
title: give and take
type: flash fiction (581 words)
fandom: shinee
pairing: none in particular; key-centric
rating/warnings: r
author's notes: 15-minute challenge piece. prompt: urban legends. originally posted here.
kibum knows jonghyun is staring at him, can feel it boring into his nape, but he can't really give a damn right now. there is something nagging at the corner of his mind, something he has forgotten, and it's bearing on him like an itch he just cannot scratch.
"look, would you stop your pacing? watching you just makes me want to throw up even more," jonghyun finally complains, sprawling out over the armrest and glaring sullenly at kibum.
"if you hadn't downed a entire keg of beer, you wouldn't be nauseous in the first place," kibum snaps, a little more forcefully than he originally intends to. he feels guilty for taking his odd mood out on jonghyun, but the nagging feeling is still there. still gnawing away at him.
thankfully, jonghyun's state of intoxication seems to lower his sensitivity, and he waves off the comment with an awkward flap of his hand. "i don't see why you're so cranky, anyway. the party went fine! and everyone loved your- loved your li-"
jonghyun's words are cut off by a jaw-cracking yawn, and kibum immediately fusses over him. "go to bed, we'll talk in the morning," he orders gruffly, hauling jonghyun up by an arm and sending him into his bedroom when he doesn't topple over.
"don't worry so much, kibum," jonghyun mumbles, disappearing into his room with a sleepy wave.
and just like that, kibum is alone in the living area.
the sudden lack of jonghyun's presence brings the nagging feeling back into full force. it's there, creeping along the corners of his mind, tugging at his consciousness and slipping away before kibum can figure out what it is. it's irritating, it's relentless, it's more than a little frightening and kibum's heartbeat picks up pace.
thump thump.
what is it? what has he forgotten? kibum shuts his eyes and fists his hands into his hair. the party was fine, the party went great. everyone enjoyed themselves, the hotshots of the campus were all there, and he has a billion pictures to prove it. and the food. the food was...
thump thump. thump thump.
the food was, admittedly, something he had neglected to fully prepare for. the original plan was a fabulous chicken-based feast, but someone had cleared out the entire stock of poultry and pork from the nearby butcher shop, and he wasn't about to learn a beef recipe in three hours.
but he had figured out a way, right? it took a little detour, but it was all good, and that person didn't even need it anymore.
so why was that nagging feeling there?
thump thump thump thump.
in his frustration, it takes him two minutes to realize that someone is knocking at the door. frowning at the thought of someone coming to their door this late-probably some straggler who had forgotten his phone-he peers through the peephole.
it is a boy, slightly younger than him. he is fairly good-looking, although his clothes are a little dirty. he looks familiar, though. somehow.
kibum cautiously opens the door. "may i help you?"
the boy beams a little sheepishly, eyes crinkling up with the motion. "sorry, you seem to have something of mine."
thumpthumpthumpthump.
kibum raises a brow at the wording. not 'i left something here'? how rude. "what is it?"
the boy's smile sharpens at the edges, and he lifts his hand from his stomach.
there is a gaping, bleeding hole.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP
"my liver."
title: till wooden boxes do them part
type: flash fiction (1030 words)
fandom: shinee
pairing: 2min
rating/warnings: pg
author's notes: based off the song "my boy builds coffins" by florence and the machine. originally posted here.
"ah! jonghyun-hyung! hello!"
it is a most unnerving sight to see your childhood friend pop out of a coffin, but jonghyun thinks he should have expected this, wandering into the home of a casket builder and all.
"hey, taemin. how're you doing?" jonghyun asks out of courtesy, trying not to grimace when taemin heaves himself easily out of the coffin. perhaps it is a good thing after all that kibum had declined to go with him.
"good, good!" taemin beams, brushing off the sawdust that had gotten onto his clothes. "there's been a recent surge of orders so we've been a little busier than usual, but that's a good thing, right?"
"…yeah," jonghyun agrees, forcing himself not to think about the implications of that statement.
taemin's smile grows wider and he bustles about the workroom, unfastening his apron and draping it over a half-finished coffin. "so, what brings you here, hyung? i don't really see you drop by often," taemin asks, disappearing into the adjoining room.
ah, right, the invitation. if jinki wasn't working overtime to finish everything by the weekend and kibum wasn't on some appointment, he wouldn't even have to go here in the first place. the workshop always gave him the heebie jeebies. "kibum's throwing a party on saturday. no real reason, just a get-together for the five of us since we haven't really hung out in a while."
taemin reappears with a tray of honey tea. "you couldn't have texted or called?" he smiles wryly, shooing jonghyun over to a chair and setting a cup down in front of him.
"you know kibum. never does anything halfway," jonghyun grins back, pulling a gaudy invitation from his pocket.
taemin stifles a laugh at the glitter-adorned invitation card. "aw, i miss you guys."
"move out of the giant's house and back in with us so you won't miss us anymore," jonghyun says half-jokingly.
"hyung!" taemin actually laughs at that one and gives him a light punch in the shoulder. jonghyun decides to let it pass because he misses taemin, too. and that punch couldn't have hurt a fly.
taemin takes a sip from his own cup, turning the invitation over in his hands. "well, we can probably close shop on saturday. i think the corpses can wait a little."
"taemin, they have all the time in the world," jonghyun says in a deadpan.
"true," taemin smirks, and jonghyun wonders if he's been spending too much time in coffins lately.
heavy footsteps sound from the adjoining room. "taemin-ah, do you want poplar? cherry's good, too, but i was thinking-"
minho appears into view, a smudge of white paint smeared across his cheek as if he had scratched it absent-mindedly. "oh, hyung, you're here."
"oi, you could sound a little more pleased to see me." jonghyun pretends to sulk until minho comes over and ruffles his hair. he bristles and bats away minho's hands, mock-scowling when minho laughs.
"what are you doing here, hyung? i thought you hated the workshop," minho asks, stealing a sip from taemin's cup.
"you two need to spend some time away from each other," jonghyun complains.
"hyung came to drop by an invitation," taemin explains, pushing the card into minho's hand and stealing back his cup.
minho gives the card a cursory glance. "i see kibum hasn't changed at all," he observes dryly.
"you'd better come or kibum's going to have my head!" jonghyun declares. "you can't be too busy for a get-together with your favorite hyungs!"
taemin and minho share a look. "well, i guess our coffins could wait," taemin acquiesces with minho nodding along. "i mean, it's not like we're going to die any time soon, right?"
jonghyun pauses mid-sip. "your coffins?"
taemin and minho share another look, only this time it's that creepy one that only lovesick couples share. "we've been thinking about it for a while," minho starts, almost shyly, "and we've decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to make our own coffins."
jonghyun nearly spits out his honey tea, jaw dropping to the floor. "you're getting couple coffins?"
taemin squirms a little at the name, a flush creeping along his neck, but does not deny it. minho, on the other hand, looks ridiculously proud and giddy, an arm snaking around taemin's shoulders in an obvious display of masculine satisfaction.
jonghyun thinks he's going to be sick.
"anyway, it's still in the planning stages! we haven't even decided on the materials yet," taemin says quickly, surreptitiously trying to squirm away from minho's arm. "so we'll definitely be there, hyung! on saturday! yeah."
"i'll tell kibum and jinki," jonghyun says hollowly, setting his half-empty cup back on the table. "i should be getting back now."
"oh. alright. bye, hyung! see you on saturday!" taemin waves as jonghyun drags his feet towards the door.
"hey, jonghyun-hyung!" minho calls out before jonghyun can leave the workshop.
"yeah?"
minho has a suspiciously comforting smile on his face. "it's okay, hyung. if kibum really does go for your head, i can readjust the measurements really easily."
it takes a few seconds for jonghyun to get it, and only a few more to burst out of the door, cursing coffin makers and their twisted senses of humor.
---
"minho and taemin have gone crazy from making coffins all day."
kibum gives jonghyun a strange look over the top of his magazine.
"don't give me that judging look, this is serious!" jonghyun yells, flailing his hands in kibum's face. "don't you know that saying? all work and no play makes jack a dumbell?"
"i am confiscating your foreign movie collection," kibum says, and goes back to reading.
jonghyun puffs up indignantly. "you'll see," he says, pointing a trembling finger at kibum. "you'll see on saturday. they're making coffins for themselves, one for me too, and one of these days they're going to make one for you!"
and with that, jonghyun flees into their conjugal bedroom, making sure to slam the door so that it sounds through the house.
"jonghyunnie, please don't slam the door! if it breaks, the repairs are coming out of your piggybank!" jinki's voice floats in from the kitchen.
"…yes, hyung."
title: lodestar
type: flash fiction (339 words)
fandom: f(x)
pairing: luna/krystal
rating/warnings: g
author's notes: kpopvalentines fill for arctictune. based off this prompt.
there are times that she allows herself to remember: the dizzying rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins; the burn of the spotlight on her skin, in her eyes; looking out into a faceless crowd and smiling at people she can't even see. these moments, however, are few and far between. that life does not belong to her anymore, if it was even hers in the first place, and there is no use dwelling on the memories of a stranger.
(that person has been left behind on the stage, that foreign country that she no longer knows.)
and yet, and yet.
there are times that she thinks she sees them: in the market, poorly-disguised as ever; on a basketball court, working the hoops with envious ease; in the pages of a fashion magazine, eternally young. on the television screen, looking so out of place in a sea of women molded into the ivory white, botox-pumped ideal because she is, she is so much better than them.
(the world still can't see that because the world is still made out of ignorant fools.)
and yet, and yet.
there are times that she mulls over meeting her again: bumping into her at some high-class boutique; passing her by in the halls of sme under the pretense of visiting her sister; blending into the crowd to attend one of her fansigns. and, oh, it would be the sweetest moment to approach the table, the sweetest thirty seconds of her life. to slide her copy of the cd into her hands and watch as she smiles and looks up to ask for her name. to return it and say, soojung, just soojung.
(to hold her close and kiss her and tell her that she hasn't changed-still warm, still beautiful. to hold her like she used to, under the cover of the night when they were both so young and afraid and when they only had each other. to tell her that she still is. her only one.)
and yet, and yet.
title: sockrilegious
type: flash fiction (531 words)
fandom: shinee
pairing: none in particular; taemin-centric
rating/warnings: r
author's notes: kpopvalentines fill for pregnantcigar. prompt: uses of a dirty sock.
Taemin was bored. Really, there were only so many videos of bouncing tits and high-pitched moans that a teenage boy could take before he got sick of the damn things.
Taemin was bored. And alone. Onew and Minho were off for taping, Key was meeting with Ha Saeng Baek to compare notes on Japanese fashion styles in preparation for their debut, and Jonghyun had snuck out for another date with Sekyung. Normally, he'd be reveling at the prospect of being the only one in the dorm, but he'd already exhausted their latest batch of games and gone through the other members' things. Onew's opera CDs had been thoroughly rifled through, Minho's books haphazardly rearranged, Jonghyun's iPod tampered with (the newest playlist was entitled "Fantastic Jurassic"), and Key's trinkets hidden (ha, take that!).
Taemin was bored. And alone. And horny. And Koreatubexxx wasn't helping at all.
With a sigh, Taemin closed the window in the middle of the girl's shriek of pleasure and rolled onto his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He was still uncomfortably half-hard, and taking a cold shower wasn't a very appealing option. The Internet just wasn't interesting anymore.
Maybe he'd just go over some routines until he calmed down.
Taemin half-heartedly fastened up his jeans and rolled off the bed. He meandered into the living room, intending on setting up the sound system for practice. In the middle of moving around their coffee table, his foot caught on something lying on the floor.
It was a sock. A dirty sock, at that. Most likely, it had been kicked to the floor by an exhausted member and had lain forgotten since then. Taemin's face scrunched up as he held it up by the cuff.
And paused.
At this angle, it actually looked kind of perfect for-
No. No. That was just disgusting! That was just weird and perverted and who the hell would think of masturbating with a dirty sock, anyway? Socks were meant to be worn on feet, not on...
Taemin snuck a glance at the clock. At least thirty minutes before anyone was scheduled to head back home. If he was going to do this, he had to do it now.
But did he really want to do this? Was this even possible? Surfing for porn was one thing, but to take your fellow member's dirty sock and get yourself off on it was another matter entirely. Sure, he read weird-ass manga and ate weird-ass food (according to the others, at least, but did it really matter when it was all going to end up in his stomach, anyway?), but a sock fetish? Really?
Taemin felt himself straining against the fly of his jeans.
Ah, screw it. They all shared their clothes, anyway.
---
Taemin silently counted down the footsteps left to the laundry hamper. He watched as Key bent down, sorting through the clothes and tsking whenever he pulled out a carelessly rolled-up shirt.
He held his breath as Key's brows furrowed, tugging out a lone sock.
And dashed into the bathroom when Key opened his mouth to shriek.
"CHOI MINHO, WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR-"
THUD.
type: flash fiction (581 words)
fandom: shinee
pairing: none in particular; key-centric
rating/warnings: r
author's notes: 15-minute challenge piece. prompt: urban legends. originally posted here.
kibum knows jonghyun is staring at him, can feel it boring into his nape, but he can't really give a damn right now. there is something nagging at the corner of his mind, something he has forgotten, and it's bearing on him like an itch he just cannot scratch.
"look, would you stop your pacing? watching you just makes me want to throw up even more," jonghyun finally complains, sprawling out over the armrest and glaring sullenly at kibum.
"if you hadn't downed a entire keg of beer, you wouldn't be nauseous in the first place," kibum snaps, a little more forcefully than he originally intends to. he feels guilty for taking his odd mood out on jonghyun, but the nagging feeling is still there. still gnawing away at him.
thankfully, jonghyun's state of intoxication seems to lower his sensitivity, and he waves off the comment with an awkward flap of his hand. "i don't see why you're so cranky, anyway. the party went fine! and everyone loved your- loved your li-"
jonghyun's words are cut off by a jaw-cracking yawn, and kibum immediately fusses over him. "go to bed, we'll talk in the morning," he orders gruffly, hauling jonghyun up by an arm and sending him into his bedroom when he doesn't topple over.
"don't worry so much, kibum," jonghyun mumbles, disappearing into his room with a sleepy wave.
and just like that, kibum is alone in the living area.
the sudden lack of jonghyun's presence brings the nagging feeling back into full force. it's there, creeping along the corners of his mind, tugging at his consciousness and slipping away before kibum can figure out what it is. it's irritating, it's relentless, it's more than a little frightening and kibum's heartbeat picks up pace.
thump thump.
what is it? what has he forgotten? kibum shuts his eyes and fists his hands into his hair. the party was fine, the party went great. everyone enjoyed themselves, the hotshots of the campus were all there, and he has a billion pictures to prove it. and the food. the food was...
thump thump. thump thump.
the food was, admittedly, something he had neglected to fully prepare for. the original plan was a fabulous chicken-based feast, but someone had cleared out the entire stock of poultry and pork from the nearby butcher shop, and he wasn't about to learn a beef recipe in three hours.
but he had figured out a way, right? it took a little detour, but it was all good, and that person didn't even need it anymore.
so why was that nagging feeling there?
thump thump thump thump.
in his frustration, it takes him two minutes to realize that someone is knocking at the door. frowning at the thought of someone coming to their door this late-probably some straggler who had forgotten his phone-he peers through the peephole.
it is a boy, slightly younger than him. he is fairly good-looking, although his clothes are a little dirty. he looks familiar, though. somehow.
kibum cautiously opens the door. "may i help you?"
the boy beams a little sheepishly, eyes crinkling up with the motion. "sorry, you seem to have something of mine."
thumpthumpthumpthump.
kibum raises a brow at the wording. not 'i left something here'? how rude. "what is it?"
the boy's smile sharpens at the edges, and he lifts his hand from his stomach.
there is a gaping, bleeding hole.
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP
"my liver."
title: till wooden boxes do them part
type: flash fiction (1030 words)
fandom: shinee
pairing: 2min
rating/warnings: pg
author's notes: based off the song "my boy builds coffins" by florence and the machine. originally posted here.
"ah! jonghyun-hyung! hello!"
it is a most unnerving sight to see your childhood friend pop out of a coffin, but jonghyun thinks he should have expected this, wandering into the home of a casket builder and all.
"hey, taemin. how're you doing?" jonghyun asks out of courtesy, trying not to grimace when taemin heaves himself easily out of the coffin. perhaps it is a good thing after all that kibum had declined to go with him.
"good, good!" taemin beams, brushing off the sawdust that had gotten onto his clothes. "there's been a recent surge of orders so we've been a little busier than usual, but that's a good thing, right?"
"…yeah," jonghyun agrees, forcing himself not to think about the implications of that statement.
taemin's smile grows wider and he bustles about the workroom, unfastening his apron and draping it over a half-finished coffin. "so, what brings you here, hyung? i don't really see you drop by often," taemin asks, disappearing into the adjoining room.
ah, right, the invitation. if jinki wasn't working overtime to finish everything by the weekend and kibum wasn't on some appointment, he wouldn't even have to go here in the first place. the workshop always gave him the heebie jeebies. "kibum's throwing a party on saturday. no real reason, just a get-together for the five of us since we haven't really hung out in a while."
taemin reappears with a tray of honey tea. "you couldn't have texted or called?" he smiles wryly, shooing jonghyun over to a chair and setting a cup down in front of him.
"you know kibum. never does anything halfway," jonghyun grins back, pulling a gaudy invitation from his pocket.
taemin stifles a laugh at the glitter-adorned invitation card. "aw, i miss you guys."
"move out of the giant's house and back in with us so you won't miss us anymore," jonghyun says half-jokingly.
"hyung!" taemin actually laughs at that one and gives him a light punch in the shoulder. jonghyun decides to let it pass because he misses taemin, too. and that punch couldn't have hurt a fly.
taemin takes a sip from his own cup, turning the invitation over in his hands. "well, we can probably close shop on saturday. i think the corpses can wait a little."
"taemin, they have all the time in the world," jonghyun says in a deadpan.
"true," taemin smirks, and jonghyun wonders if he's been spending too much time in coffins lately.
heavy footsteps sound from the adjoining room. "taemin-ah, do you want poplar? cherry's good, too, but i was thinking-"
minho appears into view, a smudge of white paint smeared across his cheek as if he had scratched it absent-mindedly. "oh, hyung, you're here."
"oi, you could sound a little more pleased to see me." jonghyun pretends to sulk until minho comes over and ruffles his hair. he bristles and bats away minho's hands, mock-scowling when minho laughs.
"what are you doing here, hyung? i thought you hated the workshop," minho asks, stealing a sip from taemin's cup.
"you two need to spend some time away from each other," jonghyun complains.
"hyung came to drop by an invitation," taemin explains, pushing the card into minho's hand and stealing back his cup.
minho gives the card a cursory glance. "i see kibum hasn't changed at all," he observes dryly.
"you'd better come or kibum's going to have my head!" jonghyun declares. "you can't be too busy for a get-together with your favorite hyungs!"
taemin and minho share a look. "well, i guess our coffins could wait," taemin acquiesces with minho nodding along. "i mean, it's not like we're going to die any time soon, right?"
jonghyun pauses mid-sip. "your coffins?"
taemin and minho share another look, only this time it's that creepy one that only lovesick couples share. "we've been thinking about it for a while," minho starts, almost shyly, "and we've decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to make our own coffins."
jonghyun nearly spits out his honey tea, jaw dropping to the floor. "you're getting couple coffins?"
taemin squirms a little at the name, a flush creeping along his neck, but does not deny it. minho, on the other hand, looks ridiculously proud and giddy, an arm snaking around taemin's shoulders in an obvious display of masculine satisfaction.
jonghyun thinks he's going to be sick.
"anyway, it's still in the planning stages! we haven't even decided on the materials yet," taemin says quickly, surreptitiously trying to squirm away from minho's arm. "so we'll definitely be there, hyung! on saturday! yeah."
"i'll tell kibum and jinki," jonghyun says hollowly, setting his half-empty cup back on the table. "i should be getting back now."
"oh. alright. bye, hyung! see you on saturday!" taemin waves as jonghyun drags his feet towards the door.
"hey, jonghyun-hyung!" minho calls out before jonghyun can leave the workshop.
"yeah?"
minho has a suspiciously comforting smile on his face. "it's okay, hyung. if kibum really does go for your head, i can readjust the measurements really easily."
it takes a few seconds for jonghyun to get it, and only a few more to burst out of the door, cursing coffin makers and their twisted senses of humor.
---
"minho and taemin have gone crazy from making coffins all day."
kibum gives jonghyun a strange look over the top of his magazine.
"don't give me that judging look, this is serious!" jonghyun yells, flailing his hands in kibum's face. "don't you know that saying? all work and no play makes jack a dumbell?"
"i am confiscating your foreign movie collection," kibum says, and goes back to reading.
jonghyun puffs up indignantly. "you'll see," he says, pointing a trembling finger at kibum. "you'll see on saturday. they're making coffins for themselves, one for me too, and one of these days they're going to make one for you!"
and with that, jonghyun flees into their conjugal bedroom, making sure to slam the door so that it sounds through the house.
"jonghyunnie, please don't slam the door! if it breaks, the repairs are coming out of your piggybank!" jinki's voice floats in from the kitchen.
"…yes, hyung."
title: lodestar
type: flash fiction (339 words)
fandom: f(x)
pairing: luna/krystal
rating/warnings: g
author's notes: kpopvalentines fill for arctictune. based off this prompt.
there are times that she allows herself to remember: the dizzying rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins; the burn of the spotlight on her skin, in her eyes; looking out into a faceless crowd and smiling at people she can't even see. these moments, however, are few and far between. that life does not belong to her anymore, if it was even hers in the first place, and there is no use dwelling on the memories of a stranger.
(that person has been left behind on the stage, that foreign country that she no longer knows.)
and yet, and yet.
there are times that she thinks she sees them: in the market, poorly-disguised as ever; on a basketball court, working the hoops with envious ease; in the pages of a fashion magazine, eternally young. on the television screen, looking so out of place in a sea of women molded into the ivory white, botox-pumped ideal because she is, she is so much better than them.
(the world still can't see that because the world is still made out of ignorant fools.)
and yet, and yet.
there are times that she mulls over meeting her again: bumping into her at some high-class boutique; passing her by in the halls of sme under the pretense of visiting her sister; blending into the crowd to attend one of her fansigns. and, oh, it would be the sweetest moment to approach the table, the sweetest thirty seconds of her life. to slide her copy of the cd into her hands and watch as she smiles and looks up to ask for her name. to return it and say, soojung, just soojung.
(to hold her close and kiss her and tell her that she hasn't changed-still warm, still beautiful. to hold her like she used to, under the cover of the night when they were both so young and afraid and when they only had each other. to tell her that she still is. her only one.)
and yet, and yet.
title: sockrilegious
type: flash fiction (531 words)
fandom: shinee
pairing: none in particular; taemin-centric
rating/warnings: r
author's notes: kpopvalentines fill for pregnantcigar. prompt: uses of a dirty sock.
Taemin was bored. Really, there were only so many videos of bouncing tits and high-pitched moans that a teenage boy could take before he got sick of the damn things.
Taemin was bored. And alone. Onew and Minho were off for taping, Key was meeting with Ha Saeng Baek to compare notes on Japanese fashion styles in preparation for their debut, and Jonghyun had snuck out for another date with Sekyung. Normally, he'd be reveling at the prospect of being the only one in the dorm, but he'd already exhausted their latest batch of games and gone through the other members' things. Onew's opera CDs had been thoroughly rifled through, Minho's books haphazardly rearranged, Jonghyun's iPod tampered with (the newest playlist was entitled "Fantastic Jurassic"), and Key's trinkets hidden (ha, take that!).
Taemin was bored. And alone. And horny. And Koreatubexxx wasn't helping at all.
With a sigh, Taemin closed the window in the middle of the girl's shriek of pleasure and rolled onto his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He was still uncomfortably half-hard, and taking a cold shower wasn't a very appealing option. The Internet just wasn't interesting anymore.
Maybe he'd just go over some routines until he calmed down.
Taemin half-heartedly fastened up his jeans and rolled off the bed. He meandered into the living room, intending on setting up the sound system for practice. In the middle of moving around their coffee table, his foot caught on something lying on the floor.
It was a sock. A dirty sock, at that. Most likely, it had been kicked to the floor by an exhausted member and had lain forgotten since then. Taemin's face scrunched up as he held it up by the cuff.
And paused.
At this angle, it actually looked kind of perfect for-
No. No. That was just disgusting! That was just weird and perverted and who the hell would think of masturbating with a dirty sock, anyway? Socks were meant to be worn on feet, not on...
Taemin snuck a glance at the clock. At least thirty minutes before anyone was scheduled to head back home. If he was going to do this, he had to do it now.
But did he really want to do this? Was this even possible? Surfing for porn was one thing, but to take your fellow member's dirty sock and get yourself off on it was another matter entirely. Sure, he read weird-ass manga and ate weird-ass food (according to the others, at least, but did it really matter when it was all going to end up in his stomach, anyway?), but a sock fetish? Really?
Taemin felt himself straining against the fly of his jeans.
Ah, screw it. They all shared their clothes, anyway.
---
Taemin silently counted down the footsteps left to the laundry hamper. He watched as Key bent down, sorting through the clothes and tsking whenever he pulled out a carelessly rolled-up shirt.
He held his breath as Key's brows furrowed, tugging out a lone sock.
And dashed into the bathroom when Key opened his mouth to shriek.
"CHOI MINHO, WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR-"
THUD.