No Words Spared [part 3]
Title: No Words Spared
Pairing: Onho
Length: 16,620 words
Rating: PG-15/R
Genre: au, fluff, angst
Summary: It was a curious thought (which would come first, freezing or drowning?) that inopportunely introduced Minho to Lee Jinki.
Minho didn't see Jinki for an entire week after that night.
Things were getting hectic in his life like before, meticulous preparations for huge-name fashion shows and meetings and fittings and everything in between clogging his schedule until his "free time" was reduced to a miserably few hours each day dedicated to sleeping and sleeping only. His meals were provided by on-site catering, showering done quickly each night before he collapsed into bed.
He could only text message Jinki in the car in between schedules, and those fleeting conversations never compared to the actual thing, sitting on Minho's couch or at his small dining table, exchanging words and sticky notes.
Minho hadn't been lucky enough to hear Jinki's voice past that first time, but the memory was fresh in his mind from reliving it almost every day.
He missed him so much it was an actual physical ache, a clear change in his demeanor that even Kibum frowned at, trying to get him to cheer up.
"When will this week be over?" he asked over and over. "Can I go home now?"
It was all coming back to him, the way that he felt before he met Jinki. The way he despised so many of these people and their fake smiles and shallow spirits. They were all physically gorgeous people, sure, but not a single one of them could keep Minho's attention like Jinki could.
"I miss Jinki-hyung," was also on the list of Things He Said a Thousand Times in a Week.
"Your day off is in two days," Kibum would assure him with a pat on the knee that caused them to swerve into traffic every time.
"My apartment looks empty without him there," he would grumble some variation of those words, some childish echo of loneliness at home.
"I know," Kibum would sigh. "It's not that long until you can see him again, all right?"
And at that, Minho would pout and look out the window, arms crossed.
He acted like a child because he felt like one.
That was fair enough.
The greatest surprise Minho could've ever woken up to the morning of his day off was Jinki knocking on his door.
He answered in his pajamas, hair unkempt, eyes bleary. He was swaying on his feet, but after only two blinks to clear his vision, he made out the familiar figure and wasted no time in drawing him in for a tight embrace.
"I missed you," he murmured into the side of his neck, soaking in his warmth.
Jinki responded by rubbing a palm across his back, holding him just as close.
When he pulled back and looked into Jinki's eyes, not covered in glasses this day, he rationalized that the only reason he didn't kiss him was because he hadn't brushed his teeth yet that morning.
"Did Kibum tell you it was my day off?" he asked, walking through his apartment, glancing back to see Jinki's response.
It was a nod.
He knew it.
That was why Kibum was his friend.
"Give me a minute, I'll get dressed and brush my teeth so I’m not gross." He was, in all fairness, still half-asleep. Hence why he forgot to comb his hair before he walked back into the living room, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, breath minty from his toothpaste.
Jinki grinned at him, noticing his bedhead at once even before Minho was aware.
He collapsed onto the couch next to his boyfriend, smiling at him serenely.
Jinki leaned closer and combed his fingers through Minho's hair, piecing it in place.
"It's growing back fast, right?" Minho asked happily, the black strands now falling down his forehead and over his ears.
Jinki nodded, brushing his fingers through just to see the length.
"I don't like having short hair. I like long hair. I like your hair," Minho said, reaching across to run his fingers through Jinki's hair. It was just as silky as it looked, freshly washed from the feel of it.
Jinki got his notes and pen out. They were yellow again today, the same stack as the first day they met. He tapped his pen a few times as Minho watched interestedly, but ultimately stashed them back in his pocket and stood, gesturing for Minho to follow him.
Smiling slightly, Minho followed his boyfriend to his balcony doors, Jinki wordlessly suggesting they go outside.
"Is it really cold?" he asked cautiously.
Jinki shook his head.
Minho trusted him and opened the balcony doors. The air was crisp, but not as freezing as it usually was. So Jinki wasn't lying.
The older leaned against the railing and looked over the city below. Not many people were out yet, as it was early in the morning, only a few early shoppers and commuters.
"I'm glad you're here." Minho mimicked Jinki's position, though he looked upwards into the sky and the building's rooftops rather than the streets below.
Jinki studied him sideways.
"This week has been really stressful," he said and then sighed as punctuation.
Jinki touched his arm gently, offering for him to continue.
"I barely even had time to sleep. I'm sorry I couldn't see you." He shot an apologetic look in Jinki's direction.
Jinki shook his head. It told Minho that it was all right, he didn't have to apologize.
"It's pretty bad again, with all the pressure and everything. It's hard to keep up. And all the people, I just-" He groaned and wiped across his eyes, hating that he was getting so frustrated so easily at the mere thought of the week prior.
"Do you ever feel like you just… just want to scream? Just at the top of your lungs, just to let it all out and be done with?" Minho asked, suddenly worked-up and energetic.
Jinki nodded empathetically.
"We should do it," Minho said eagerly. "We should just yell as loud as we can. I don't care if my neighbors get mad, I don't like them anyway."
Jinki's lips spread and his eyes squinted into crescents. He gestured for Minho to go first.
Minho felt giddy and nervous all at once, gripping onto the railing. He leaned all his weight forward and yelled, loud as he could manage, into the docile morning air.
He pulled back from the railing and saw that Jinki was unimpressed at best.
Viewing the gaze as a challenge, he grabbed on once more and threw his body forward, shouting at the literal top of his lungs until his throat felt raw.
This time, Jinki was smiling proudly, a questioning gaze in his eyes.
"Feels good," Minho said, shaking his shoulders and his arms loosely, feeling stress melting off him. "Your turn."
Jinki grinned and supported himself on the railing, opening his mouth wide.
No sound came out, just a breath.
Minho crossed his arms playfully. "Come on, you can do better than that. Bet you can be louder than I was."
Jinki caught on to the joke and yelled with more enthusiasm this time, nose scrunching and eyes squeezing closed, mouth open as far as it could go.
And again, there was no sound. Just an empty breath.
It was worth it just to see Jinki's cute expression while he did it.
Jinki turned toward him and shrugged, touching his throat with mock-disappointment.
Minho smiled lightly, placing his fingertips on top of Jinki's on his neck.
Jinki looked at him in question, but Minho didn't offer any words, expression falling slightly as his heart began to speed.
He didn't have an excuse right now. No logical reason why he shouldn't.
He slid his hand around to the nape of Jinki's neck and closed the gap between them.
Jinki didn't show surprise in the slightest, tilting his head up and angling his head to press their lips together more firmly.
Minho sighed against his lips, the gesture calm in comparison to how he actually felt, like his body was working in hyper-speed and he couldn't catch a fleeting thought if he tried.
So he kissed Jinki without reservation, lips fluidly moving against his like they were made for each other. Jinki's lips were the textbook definition of plush, soft and full, gentle but insistent as they parted over Minho's and sucked lightly on his bottom lip.
He pulled back, lightheaded and dizzy, and saw that Jinki's lips were curled up in the corners, a smile that he hadn't seen before, but wanted to see infinitely more of.
He didn't give himself the chance to, however, as he leaned in for another kiss. And another. And another.
Minho was warm as he stepped inside, lips red and glistening, matching Jinki's perfectly. The older was right behind him, their hands linked together, pulses racing.
When Minho turned around, intending to offer a quick glance and maybe a smitten smile (but he really couldn't control those), the sight of his boyfriend with red cheeks and mussed hair was enough to made Minho press him to the door and kiss him again.
Inside, things were much warmer, much less frigid and insecure. Inside, Minho was comfortable enough to run his hands down Jinki's sides and pull him in so there was no space between them at all.
Jinki's fingers were cold as they twined in the back of his hair, but his mouth was an overwhelming heat, opening to let Minho's tongue slide carefully in.
Minho moaned lowly into Jinki's mouth, moving his tongue against the older's and letting the sensations crackle as electricity all over his body. His hand cupped the side of his neck and angled his head further upward, the angle allowing him to kiss his boyfriend more deeply, like he'd wanted to do for so, so long now.
He coaxed Jinki with him as he walked backward, very nearly hitting his leg on his coffee table as he walked them to the couch.
Jinki wasn't hesitant to comply, lying back on the roomy couch, head rested on the pillows near the armrest. Minho climbed on top of him, running his hands warmly over his arms, lips barely breaking apart to gasp in air before their heads tilted opposite ways and they pressed together.
Minho's fingers were tangled in Jinki's hair when he backed away, and he took to running them through gently as he tried to catch his breath enough to speak.
God, Jinki looked gorgeous like this.
"So," he asked, eyes tracing the curve of Jinki's lower lip as he panted, "what do you want to do today?"
A hand fisted in the front of his shirt and Minho was jerked down so he could continue what he'd stopped.
Jinki didn't need sticky notes to communicate perfectly what his answer was:
This.
"Your lips look chapped, Minho," was the first thing Kibum said when he came to pick him up the next day.
"My lips are always chapped, Kibum, it's winter," he lied flawlessly.
"Where's Jinki-hyung?"
"Still in the apartment." Dammit. Cover blown.
Kibum glanced over with a smirk and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"No, Kibum," he said, not offering any more as explanation. That was all Kibum needed to hear. Hell, it was more than he deserved to hear.
"Why not? He slept over there but you guys didn't-"
"No, we didn't. He's slept over plenty before, anyway. You know that." If there was one thing Minho loved about his relationship with Jinki, it was that they were comfortable enough around each other to not feel pressured by sleeping in the same bed when Jinki spent the night. They would get more physical with each other when the time came. There was no need to rush it.
(But that didn't mean that the night before wasn't spent with a good amount of time with their lips brushing again and again until they were both panting into each other's mouths.)
The first time Minho went to Jinki's apartment, Jinki was so visibly nervous it was painful.
"How many times have you been at my place by now?" Minho asked as a form of reassurance.
It didn't really help.
"It's not fancy like your place" Jinki wrote him on a blue sticky note.
Minho shrugged. "So?"
Jinki chewed at his lip.
Minho tugged it free, fingers curling under his chin. "It's okay, Jinki,"
The first thing Minho noticed when he walked into Jinki's apartment wasn't that it was half the size of his own or that it was decorated with mismatched furniture, but that there were dry erase boards on almost every wall.
"Smart," he complimented first thing, giving his hand a squeeze in hopes to assuage his discomfort.
Jinki let out a breath and let go of Minho's hand to scurry into the small kitchen (well, everything was smaller here than in Minho's apartment). One hand hurriedly scrawled, "Do you want something to drink?" while the other opened the refrigerator door.
Minho smiled softly and walked behind him, shutting the fridge door and turning him around. "This reminds me of when you came over to my place the first time," he said lowly, trapping Jinki against his fridge door.
"Do you have any roommates?" he asked, remaining far enough away from Jinki to see his answer.
He shook his head.
That was all the permission Minho needed to knot a hand in Jinki's hair and kiss him unreservedly.
When he broke away, Jinki was noticeably more relaxed, chest rising and falling quickly.
"You're a really good kisser," Minho whispered lowly into his ear, pressing his lips against his jawline and down his neck.
Jinki's hold on his upper-arms tightened and he pushed him back.
It was then that Minho noticed he was shaking and he took it as his cue to step back and give him some space. He felt instant remorse for having pushed him.
Jinki calmed down in a matter of seconds, however, and grabbed the dry-erase marker again to write on the board beside him. "I want to show you something."
"What is it?" Minho asked, excited. The last time Jinki had said that, he'd gotten the treat of hearing his name in his hyung's voice.
He gestured to follow him and they made way to the living room.
Minho sat down on the couch at Jinki's silent command-his was muted blue and corduroy, but far more squishy and comfortable than Minho's-and watched him kneel down and mess with the DVD player underneath the TV.
"A video?"
Jinki glanced up and tucked his hair behind his ear-he is so cute-, nodding once.
He grabbed a mini dry-erase board from the end table and held it on his lap, sitting down close into Minho's side. "This is me," he wrote, "when I had my voice."
Minho didn't know what to say or even to think. He'd wondered in the past if Jinki had been mute forever, but had never asked for fear of upsetting him. He never thought that he would get to hear what he sounded like before, wasn't sure what to expect from this video.
Jinki pressed play on a remote at his side, and a video started, a shot of a stage in a theater.
That setting made sense. Jinki had told him before, several times, how much he loved live theatre: musicals, operas, plays included.
All was quiet in the video, curtains drawn, and in the few seconds Minho had to get interested, the curtains drew back and there was Jinki, center stage, dressed like a grungy rock star in a cut-off vest and tight jeans, eyeliner thick on his lids.
"You look good like that," he said before he could filter his straightforward compliment.
Jinki's shoulders shook in his unique laughter.
The Jinki onscreen suddenly began speaking, and Minho froze completely.
He didn't even register what the actor-Jinki was saying, because he was too focused on the sound of his voice. It was… soft, with a rich baritone quality to it that infected Minho into wanting to hear more, to listen for hours.
Jinki nudged him with his elbow.
Minho read the words on his board.
"Just wait until I start singing."
Minho was dearly anticipating it.
He sat straight in his seat, ears on high alert. The volume was quite loud enough, and still Minho was straining to memorize every tiny detail about what he was hearing, from the slight lisp Jinki had when he spoke "s" sounds to the subtle inflection he had on each word separately.
When he started singing, Minho found that no amount of time or focus could have prepared him to hear it.
His jaw dropped open and his eyes went wide.
"Hyung, you sound-" There wasn't a word he could've filled in there that would've sufficed for how beyond flawless he sounded.
The rich tone of his speaking voice carried through even stronger as he sang, each note perfect, smooth, practiced. He sounded so nice, so relaxing even as he powered through the American power ballad.
So intent on the screen, it took Minho an extra moment to register the quiet sniffling coming from beside him.
"Hyung, what's wrong?" he asked, instantly reacting to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
Jinki wiped his wet eyes, shaking his hand and waving Minho off in a "don't worry about it" gesture.
Minho didn't remove his arm.
Jinki reached beside him and paused the video, setting the board back in his lap and looking at Minho for a question to spark whatever he wanted to write.
"So you were in musicals before?"
He nodded, smiling slightly. There were leftover tears gathered in his eyes and Minho itched to wipe them away.
"A lot of them?"
Jinki was still smiling as he wrote, "Tons"
"What-" He paused, willing his tone to go gentler, because he could feel that he was treading on dangerous waters, "What happened, hyung?"
Jinki bit his lip and the marker tip stalled over top of the board for a second.
Slowly, he began to write.
"It was a car wreck when I was 21. I was with my mom. She had come to the show that night, that one you just watched, and I was driving her home. We got hit at a stop light by some kids out for a joyride in a bus." He wiped the board clean after he was sure Minho read it all. "We got flipped over and my neck was badly injured."
Minho felt himself start to tremble, heart clenching painfully and stomach turning over. His mouth gaped but he didn't have anything to say.
Jinki wiped the board and kept writing. "We were taken to the emergency room, and they had to operate. They told me later that the options were for me to breathe or to speak, so in order to live without using a tracheotomy to breathe, they injured my vocal cords."
"Hyung…" Minho's voice was barely above a breath.
"My mom was fine, though. That's what matters, right?"
Minho grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, a tight, rib-crushing hug that was close enough so he could feel his boyfriend's tears wetting the skin of his neck.
"I'm so sorry, Jinki-hyung," he whispered, face buried in the dip of his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
Jinki's arms constricted around him for half a second before he backed away.
Minho coughed, trying to clear his throat that felt thick with tears. It was the first time he'd ever seen Jinki cry, and his heart felt cracked and ready to shatter into a thousand shards if he so much as sniffled another time.
As Jinki bent his head to write again, his hair curtained over the side of his face.
Minho gingerly stretched his arm between them and combed through it to tuck it behind his ear.
Jinki glanced sideways, smiling softly.
Minho's heart gave a sharp twinge.
How could something like that happen to Jinki of all people? Rather than the terrible, horrible, shallow, heartless people in the world, fate had chosen Lee Jinki, the man with the pure heart and radiant smile, to injure, to rob of his passion and force to struggle with recovery so that, even five years later, all he could manage was a throaty whisper of Minho's name after a week of practice.
It was cruel.
It was unfair in the darkest way.
Jinki visibly hesitated to write anything.
Minho waited patiently, smoothing a hand across his shoulder blades in an attempt to comfort him.
When he began to write, it was measured; Minho watched his expression carefully, the way he bit his lip and swallowed slowly, adam's apple sinking down in his throat and then moving into place again.
"What's wrong?" Minho asked quietly as the moments stretched out between them.
Jinki's head rose for a second unsurely, and then he wrote more quickly than before.
"Maybe one day I'll get better and you can hear me sing."
When Minho considered Jinki's expression, he was surprised to see that the insecurity wasn't stemming from the thought of recovery at all, but something entirely different.
He brushed his fingers across Jinki's full cheek and leaned in to press the gentlest kiss against Jinki's lips. "Hyung, I'd wait fifty years if it meant I could hear you speak to me again," he whispered, only a breath away from his lips.
Jinki's eyes welled with tears, and his arms twined once more around Minho's neck for a chest-constricting hug.
Minho wasn't sure why he thought it was a good idea to break out his box of magazine clippings and polariods from shows and editorial papers one day when Jinki was at his apartment, but nevertheless, he slapped his box (every page compiled by Kibum, who was resourceful and more sentimental than he would ever admit) on the coffee table in front of an eager-looking Jinki.
He pulled out a stack of pages and sat back on the cushions with his boyfriend.
Jinki immediately took the papers out of his hands and laid them on his drawn-up legs, studying each individually with a starry-eyed expression.
"I-some of them are kind of weird," he said, suddenly self-conscious about the more out-there concepts he'd worked with in the past.
Jinki glanced up with a smile that told him he understood.
He was oddly on edge as he watched Jinki sift through the pages, each picture more embarrassing than the last. Jinki's expression was hard to read, and god he wished he knew what he was thinking as he thumbed through the evidence of Minho's past work.
Jinki perked up slightly as he came upon a cut-out magazine page. Excitedly looking at Minho, he pointed at the faces beside him.
Minho smiled, scooting in closer and draping an arm over the back of the couch. "Yeah, Jonghyun-hyung and Taemin," he affirmed with a nod. "We work together a lot."
Jinki nodded, slowly going through the pages again.
A familiar spread came into Minho's view and his cheeks filled with heat, trying desperately to snatch it away so Jinki couldn't get a good look at it. "That one-don't-I-"
Jinki's brows furrowed and he quickly grabbed the face-down page from Minho's lap.
"No, don't-"
The older didn't heed him, turning it over.
Minho buried his face in his hands so he couldn't see Jinki's immediate reaction. This was a horrible idea, a humiliating one, because he should have foreseen that Jinki would inevitably come upon the pictures of him half-dressed or otherwise compromised in a provocative pose, tongue lolling or eyes hooded and the like.
The one Jinki had was relatively tame in comparison to most, just a shot of him lounging shirtless on a floral print couch. From what he could remember, the concept had been some nonsense about French beauty, but he soon found out was code word for flowery backgrounds and less clothes than usual.
Even so, Jinki was seeing him shirtless for the first time through a picture and, well, it was embarrassing.
When he gathered the strength to move his palms away from his face, Jinki was still staring at the same picture.
"Next," Minho muttered, trying to move it from Jinki's view.
It was to no avail. Jinki held the page in place, now glancing from the Minho in print to the one in life, eyes slightly wider than usual.
He pointed on the page to Minho's bare stomach and then looked at him in slight incredulous question.
"My abs?" Minho asked, an unsure smile across his face.
Jinki nodded.
"I still have them, if that's what you're asking," Minho said a bit bashfully, and he felt like a schoolboy again, because under no regular circumstance would he be embarrassed of his well-built body, but now he was a fidgety mess.
Suddenly, Jinki's hand reached out and grabbed the hem of Minho's shirt, tugging it upwards just a bit as he bent down to peek underneath.
Minho promptly fisted his hands in his shirt and pushed it back into place, face blazing. "Hyung!"
Jinki rocked back into his seat, mouth open wide in inaudible laughter, eyes shutting.
Minho was sure that he would be embarrassed for the rest of his life.
When Jinki calmed down slightly, he grabbed his sticky notes, the light pink ones, and wrote a message to stick to the back of Minho's hand.
"You're very handsome."
His grumbled "thank you" thankfully didn't blatantly show how embarrassed he actually was.
"Jinki-hyung, you're wearing the hairstyle I showed you!" Kibum exclaimed upon seeing Jinki walk out of Minho's apartment.
Jinki grinned, touching the side of his head where the hair was pushed behind his ear.
"You're way too excited about that, Kibum," Minho said as he stooped to get in his car, Jinki already in the backseat.
"Look at how handsome he is with his hair like that, though!" Both of Kibum's hands left the steering wheel in a wild gesture.
"Be careful, would you?" Minho scolded, diving sideways to grab hold of the wheel before they could get off track.
"Don't tell me how to drive my own car, Minho," Kibum snapped, batting his hands away.
When Minho looked into the side mirror, he saw Jinki rigid, face paler than usual.
He mouthed a "sorry" to him, wishing he could climb into the backseat and hug him and apologize over and over for whatever memories he had to relive every time Kibum drove them around recklessly.
It was an equally awful idea, Minho learned, bringing Jinki to a fitting as it was showing him his pictures the first time.
Why he didn't consider that it was a fitting, meaning he would spend a fair amount of time changing clothes or standing around waiting for clothes to put on, was beyond him. His judgment was always clouded when it came to Jinki, really. He just wanted to spend as much time with him as he could, regardless of what they were doing.
Kibum was quick to catch Minho's anxiousness, and, just like always, put it forefront for everyone to see.
"He has a nice body, right Jinki-hyung?" he asked a bit too loudly from his seat a ways way.
Minho winced, throwing on a shirt as quickly as he could just so his back wouldn't be bare and facing his boyfriend.
He chanced a glance over his shoulder, and wasn't sure if he was relieved or not to see that Jinki was nodding at Kibum.
"I have something to show you."
Minho sat straighter on his couch, muting the television that played some sports program on random. He turned towards his boyfriend, who looked more nervous than Minho had ever seen him.
"What is it?" he asked with a note of urgency he couldn't help.
Jinki's mouth opened and shut a few times before he ducked his head to write another note, scribbling hurriedly.
Different than other times, Jinki didn't show Minho the note when he was done writing it. He held in in a vice grip on his lap, knuckles turning white.
He swallowed and licked his lips before moving in closer.
Minho turned his head when Jinki gestured for him to, no less than giddy when he felt the older's lips at his ear.
He tried desperately to calm his racing heart so he could hear clearly, not have it muffled by the sound of his own blood racing.
He waited one second, two, and then Jinki spoke to him for a second time, voice frail and croaky:
"I love you, Minho."
Minho's jaw dropped and his whole body went rigid in astonishment.
Jinki backed away swiftly and held up the pad with a trembling hand for Minho to read what he'd written before.
"I'm sorry if it's" Minho stopped reading after those few words.
He reached forward and held the sides of Jinki's face, kissing him with everything he had. His heart felt like it was about to burst in his chest, tears threatening to leak out of the corners of his eyes as his brows furrowed and his lips crushed against Jinki's.
When he pulled away, Jinki remained stiff in his seat.
Minho was overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions running through him. He kissed him in short bursts again and again until Jinki kissed back; his throat choked so badly he had to back away and let out a half-laugh-half-cough that sounded mostly like a sob.
"I love you too," he said breathlessly, staring right into Jinki's ever-worried eyes. He ran a hand around his hairline and stroked his cheek with his thumb, smiling a bit helplessly, very much overwhelmed. His heart was racing and his blood and adrenaline were doing the same.
Jinki's eyes softened and he lifted a hand to rest on top of Minho's.
"I love you too," he repeated, voice raw and desperate around the edges, just because the words felt good coming out; the way his heart stuttered told him that they were the truest words he'd ever spoken.
Jinki moved in, wrapping his arms securely around Minho's neck as they kissed again, fervently and with every ounce of feeling they could manage without bursting into overcome tears.
"I love you," Minho grunted as he angled Jinki's neck up for a bruising kiss, burying himself into the heat of his body over and over.
Jinki broke away, head falling back, neck straining. His lips opened wide and his brows drew upward in a soundless cry, and it was the most amazing thing Minho had ever seen.
"I love you so much," he moaned into the side of his neck, back flexing when he felt Jinki's blunt fingernails digging into his skin.
Minho's entire body was trembling, muscles exerted. His hands couldn't touch enough of Jinki, couldn’t slide over slick skin or leave fingertip indentions that would bruise later enough to satisfy him, pleasure blinding.
Jinki's lips were parted and they moved around silent moans with every rock of their bodies against each other, into each other. He didn't make a sound, not a single one, and Minho didn't want to change a thing about it.
He didn't need Jinki's voice to know that he was feeling the same as he was; he could feel him shuddering, could see the far-gone expression across his features, could feel him panting against his chest as he bowed his head into his shoulder. It was all he could have ever wanted.
"I love you," Minho gasped out again and again, skin breaking into goosebumps as he felt Jinki's lips pressing onto his shoulder. "I love you, I love you-"
Minho sighed, trying to catch his breath.
Jinki mimicked him, air blowing against Minho's glistening skin and cooling it.
The younger smiled softly, coaxing Jinki closer with the arm around his shoulders so he could press a kiss to his damp hair.
Jinki laid his head on Minho's chest and sighed more deeply, audibly.
Minho's small smile stretched to a full grin, taking Jinki's challenge and trying to make an even louder production of sighing.
Jinki leaned up to look Minho in the eye, that task made difficult because Jinki's were squinted into tiny slits, the kind that Minho loved seeing most.
His shoulders shuddered slightly in his laughter, and Minho just about melted onto the sheets.
He laughed along with boyfriend, head falling back onto the pillow.
Jinki's smiling lips traced the line of his jaw gently as Minho's fluttered shut and he allowed the love he felt for this man to take hold of his heart indefinitely.
There were no words they needed to spare between them, Minho decided, because everything was perfect just like this.
"How was work?"
Minho didn't answer immediately, instead taking time to pull his boyfriend into a welcome-home hug, arms folding comfortably around his shoulders. He was a bit winded from sprinting up the stairs two at a time, but he couldn't help that he was eager to get home when he knew that Jinki was going to be there waiting for him.
"It was fine," he said nonchalantly, shrugging off his jacket and laying it over the couch. "Hectic, though. You know that. Jonghyun and Taemin were there to keep me company."
Jinki smiled at him.
"I don't hate it so much anymore, you know," Minho said, feeling jumpy and talkative today. It was absolutely true that he didn't mind the industry nowadays; it was fine with him that he would be surrounded day after day with appearance-concerned people who viewed him as a mannequin, as something pretty to look at. He didn't care anymore, didn't loathe getting into Kibum's car every morning, because, well, he had Jinki.
Contrary to all of the two-second acquaintances he would make during the day, Minho knew that when he got off work, he had Jinki to talk to, Jinki to be with. Jinki, the beautiful man with a pure heart and a smile perfect enough to knock Minho sideways. Jinki, the one who saw Minho as a person and not just a face, who'd cared about him since day one and only grown from there.
Jinki, the one who Minho loved more than anything.
Minho smiled to himself, taking a seat at his small dining table.
Jinki cocked his head to the side.
"I really hated it before. I almost quit, actually. But now…" He trailed off, realizing just how embarrassing he was about to be with his confession.
Jinki waited for him to continue, meeting his eyes briefly from his place at the fridge where he was busy getting drinks for them.
"You really did save me that day, I guess," he said, eyes downcast.
Jinki sat across from him at the table, sliding a can of soda his way.
Minho tapped the aluminum top of the can, nervous that he was being so sappy all of a sudden. "Thank you."
When Jinki wrote something on his light yellow post-its and stuck it on the table in front of Minho, it wasn't the "you're welcome" was expecting.
The message and accompanying smile he got in return was much, much better.
"I love you, too."
A/N - right so this isn't really edited all that well FORGIVE ME but I just wrote the entire thing in a span of like twelve hours (OVER SIXTEEN-THOUSAND WORDS IN TWELVE HOURS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND AJKLFJDSLAFJLKASD) and I just wanted to get it posted before I have to do that mae thing tomorrow SO YEAH I'll fix it later OTL
this is kinda plotless LOL and I honestly had no idea how to end it, so.. meh. it is what it is.
that being said, I had a whole lot of fun writing it omg I can't even express. this is probably one of my top 3 favorite oneshots I've written to date tbh. I can't escape my onho I just can't.
so.. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing ;w; especially you, the anon who prompted this at the ( onho kink meme). thank you so much for leaving something like that so I could pick it up. c': I really hope you liked it. sorry it wasn't as angsty as I intended OTL
Kat
mikssi
[sequel]