(no subject)
I Think I Love You Better Now
EXO/SHINee - one-sided Kai/Taemin
1892 words; NC-17
Kim Jongin has been Lee Taemin’s biggest fan since SHINee’s debut.
For instantea, who I hate with a passion. Based on the music video for Ed Sheeran’s Lego House. AU.
Jongin can’t help but notice the way cashier keeps sneaking glances at him as she rings up his purchases. She looks like a high school student, like himself, maybe a little older, with short, blunt bangs and thick framed glasses.
As he counts out the bills in his wallet to pay her, she blurts out, “Do you know anything about SHINee?”
“They did that song Lucifer recently, right? I’ve seen their pictures several times.” Jongin tilts his head, surreptitiously hunching a little and slouching his shoulders. “Why?”
“Oh.” The cashier looks a little embarrassed, quickly taking his money and giving him his change. “It’s just that you look a lot like SHINee’s Taemin, that’s all.”
Jongin schools his face into a wide smile and scrunches his eyes into narrow slits, ducking his head as she drops the coins into his outstretched palm. “Really? I never noticed that.”
She claps in delight. “That smile! It looks just like Taemin’s, seriously.”
“Thank you, noona,” he says, still beaming, and she nearly goes into fangirl conniptions.
That night, Jongin jerks off on his bed, leaning back against his pillows, eyes trained on his Taemin poster on the wall.
He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, imagining that same face underneath him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open in a moan as Jongin rocks into him. Jongin stops only for a brief second to lift Taemin’s legs onto his shoulders, Taemin’s flexible body easily accommodating the stretch, before he pushes in again. Taemin cries out when the new position makes Jongin slide in even deeper, and it’s perfect, everything about him is perfect, his sweet, gentle face that looks like Jongin’s but is so much better, his long neck that stretches as he throws his head back, his hair wild against Jongin’s pillow.
“Jongin,” Taemin pants, his eyes glazed and unfocused with need, “Jonginnie, please.”
Jongin shudders and grabs a tissue, just barely cupping it over his cock before he comes. Taemin’s image smiles at him from its spot on the wall.
Chanyeol bursts into loud, delighted laughter as soon as he sees Jongin’s new haircut. Jongin knows better than to be offended; Chanyeol just laughs like this at everything.
“You’re looking more and more like a flower boy by the day, Kim Jongin,” Chanyeol says, still snickering, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
Jongin jerks away from Chanyeol’s hand. “Like you’re one to talk,” he scoffs. He grabs the hand mirror Baekhyun’s using, ignoring his friend’s indignant “Hey!” and looks into it, fixing his bangs until he’s sure they’re perfect.
He’d gone to a hair salon over the weekend with a clear, high quality picture of Taemin’s head from the front, side, and back and asked for the same cut. The hairdresser hadn’t even looked twice. It isn’t uncommon for a high school student to want to copy an idol’s hairstyle, and this is the third haircut Taemin has had in the past two months, and the third hairdresser Jongin has visited in that time.
Jongin remembers the exact date, May 25, 2008. It was during his last year of middle school, a time to start buckling down and focusing on schoolwork. Instead, he replayed SHINee’s debut performance over and over, face nearly glued to the monitor as he searched for a glimpse of that perfect boy, the one who was his age, the one with thin arms who twisted and moved like it was the easiest thing in the world. He spent two hours perfecting Taemin’s dance break, every sweep of his leg and snap of his arm, and had to stay up until four in the morning because he didn’t get any homework done.
The next morning, he asked his mom to sign him up for dance class. He improved faster than anyone else in the class, advancing to the intermediate level in only a few months, staying late after practice to get every move right.
It’s been three years, and his parents are more than unimpressed with his grades, but that doesn’t matter. He’s one of the best dancers in the advanced class, and he knows the choreography to every SHINee song by heart.
“You’ve been looking so much paler lately,” Kyungsoo comments. This is a good thing. Jongin has been using whitening face masks and body washes, and they’re finally starting to have a noticeable effect. “Did you stop going outside or something? What happened to Kkamjong?”
“Don’t call me that,” Jongin says, instinctively pulling away from Kyungsoo’s casual hand on his back.
“But why? Isn’t your tanned skin what makes you sexy?” Sehun stretches out the last word obnoxiously.
Jongin doesn’t want to be sexy. He wants to be cute and universally adored for his young, innocent appeal. He wants to make fangirls scream and cry with a single smile. He jerks back to attention when Sehun pokes him in the arm.
“We’re going to go get ice cream after school. Wanna come?”
Ice cream is fattening, and Jongin needs to stay as thin as he can. “I can’t, I’m busy.”
Jongin skips dinner that night and practices aegyo in his room instead, posing in front of the mirror until he’s perfected his eyesmiles and pouts. When he’s finally satisfied, the Taemin posters on his walls seem to beam in approval at him from all sides.
He’s standing on a stage, half-blinded by stage lights and staring out into a sea of screaming fangirls waving teal balloons.
“What…?” he mumbles, squinting and lifting a hand to shield his eyes.
Then the music starts, the familiar tune of “Lucifer,” and it’s only by sheer muscle memory that he snaps into focus and starts to dance. He knows this song like the back of his hand. This is what he’s been practicing for. When he drags a thumb across his lips, eyes half-lidded, the shrieks multiply tenfold.
When the performance is finally over, the lights dim and he hurries offstage.
“Taemin-ah!” Minho calls. When he turns, Minho grins and reaches him in three wide steps, throwing a friendly arm over his shoulders. “Good performance today.” The other members are behind him, hurrying to catch up.
“When did you learn to make sexy faces, huh?” Jonghyun teases, his smile wide and easy. “I thought that was my job.”
“E-excuse me,” he says, and pulls away from Minho to hurry into the nearest bathroom.
When he leans over the porcelain sink, the face looking back at him in the mirror looks like his own but isn’t.
Jongin wakes up, sweating and half-hard under his blankets. He inhales, then exhales, trying to slow his racing heartbeat, and reaches into his boxers to wrap a loose hand around his cock.
When he closes his eyes again, it’s not his fist but Taemin’s full lips wrapped around his cock, his mouth shaped in a perfect ‘o’ to swallow him deeper. Taemin’s tongue runs down the side of his length, then back up. His glimmering eyes flicker up to meet Jongin’s in a heated gaze, and Jongin remembers seeing those same eyes in the mirror in his dream.
There isn’t even enough time to grab a tissue. Jongin comes right then, thinking of Taemin’s eyes, and gets semen all over his hand and sheets.
The moment Taemin mentions Kaya Scodelario in an interview, Jongin downloads all three seasons of Skins and watches them in one weekend.
She’s pretty, Jongin supposes, but nothing special. He tried jerking off to her once in the shower, just to try it, but the face he kept picturing had short, blond hair and brown eyes.
He’s watching The Goblet of Fire on his laptop for the third time when there’s a knock on the door.
“What?”
“Have you done your homework?” his mother calls, voice muffled.
“I’m busy,” he answers, and puts in his headphones.
The next year and a half is a cycle of going to dance practice, coming home to secretly dance some more in his room, and sleeping through school.
Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo graduate in March, and Jongin never sees them again. They call, once in a while, asking to meet up, but Jongin is always busy. There’s dance practice and dance competitions, on top of keeping up with SHINee’s activities. Eventually, they stop calling.
Jongin graduates the year after that, much to the surprise of both of his parents. He passes his all of his classes, though not by much, and is accepted into several low-tier colleges. He starts college in March, but school has never interested him much, and he doesn’t bother studying that much for any of his classes other than beginner’s Japanese.
He continues to win dance competitions and thinks to himself that he’s getting closer, closer.
Taemin usually leaves for dance practice a bit earlier than the other members, because he likes having the extra time to stretch at his own leisure and try out some new moves. When he arrives, Jaewon and the backup dancers, who usually get there half an hour or so before SHINee, are warming up.
Jaewon comes over to throw a friendly arm over his shoulders. “Ready for practice today?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking Jinki hyung that?” Taemin grins when Jaewon bursts into laughter.
“Fair enough. By the way,”-Jaewon jerks his chin toward the opposite end of the room-“Jiwoo’s replacement arrived. He’s your age, actually, you should go say hi.”
Taemin follows his gaze to a figure stretching on the floor in the corner, and jumps a little when he realizes that the other boy has been staring at him and Jaewon the entire time.
Jaewon doesn’t seem to notice. “Good-looking, isn’t he? Looks a lot like you, actually.”
Taemin sneaks a glance at the other boy; he’s still watching them. “Are you sure it’s not just the hairstyle?” He has the same exact cut as Taemin, except Taemin’s hair is currently a light brown and his is black.
“Hey, I just called you good-looking, you should take the compliment.” Jaewon scoffs, ruffling Taemin’s hair. “Now go make nice.” He gives Taemin a little shove.
The boy’s eyes widen when Taemin approaches him, and he scrambles to his feet, bowing a full ninety degrees.
Taemin bows back, clearing his throat. “Hi, I’m SHINee’s Lee Taemin. It’s nice to meet you.”
The other boy really does look a bit like him, but is good-looking-here Taemin sighs enviously-in a more masculine way. Taemin is surprised that he decided to be a backup dancer when he could’ve easily auditioned to be an idol himself. He’s taller than Taemin, but he slouches and hunches his shoulders in a way that makes him look a bit shorter than he really is.
His eyes are intense, but maybe that’s just because of the way they haven’t moved from Taemin’s face since Jaewon pointed him out to Taemin, maybe since Taemin walked into the practice room. Taemin shifts his weight back and forth between his feet, trying to ignore the uncomfortable prickling on the back of his neck. It’s the guy’s first day at SM, he’s probably just shy, he reasons.
When the other boy finally opens his mouth to speak, his voice is soft and measured. “My name is Ki-” he stops and licks his lips, as if he’s thinking. He smiles. “Just call me Kai.”
EXO/SHINee - one-sided Kai/Taemin
1892 words; NC-17
Kim Jongin has been Lee Taemin’s biggest fan since SHINee’s debut.
For instantea, who I hate with a passion. Based on the music video for Ed Sheeran’s Lego House. AU.
Jongin can’t help but notice the way cashier keeps sneaking glances at him as she rings up his purchases. She looks like a high school student, like himself, maybe a little older, with short, blunt bangs and thick framed glasses.
As he counts out the bills in his wallet to pay her, she blurts out, “Do you know anything about SHINee?”
“They did that song Lucifer recently, right? I’ve seen their pictures several times.” Jongin tilts his head, surreptitiously hunching a little and slouching his shoulders. “Why?”
“Oh.” The cashier looks a little embarrassed, quickly taking his money and giving him his change. “It’s just that you look a lot like SHINee’s Taemin, that’s all.”
Jongin schools his face into a wide smile and scrunches his eyes into narrow slits, ducking his head as she drops the coins into his outstretched palm. “Really? I never noticed that.”
She claps in delight. “That smile! It looks just like Taemin’s, seriously.”
“Thank you, noona,” he says, still beaming, and she nearly goes into fangirl conniptions.
That night, Jongin jerks off on his bed, leaning back against his pillows, eyes trained on his Taemin poster on the wall.
He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, imagining that same face underneath him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open in a moan as Jongin rocks into him. Jongin stops only for a brief second to lift Taemin’s legs onto his shoulders, Taemin’s flexible body easily accommodating the stretch, before he pushes in again. Taemin cries out when the new position makes Jongin slide in even deeper, and it’s perfect, everything about him is perfect, his sweet, gentle face that looks like Jongin’s but is so much better, his long neck that stretches as he throws his head back, his hair wild against Jongin’s pillow.
“Jongin,” Taemin pants, his eyes glazed and unfocused with need, “Jonginnie, please.”
Jongin shudders and grabs a tissue, just barely cupping it over his cock before he comes. Taemin’s image smiles at him from its spot on the wall.
Chanyeol bursts into loud, delighted laughter as soon as he sees Jongin’s new haircut. Jongin knows better than to be offended; Chanyeol just laughs like this at everything.
“You’re looking more and more like a flower boy by the day, Kim Jongin,” Chanyeol says, still snickering, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
Jongin jerks away from Chanyeol’s hand. “Like you’re one to talk,” he scoffs. He grabs the hand mirror Baekhyun’s using, ignoring his friend’s indignant “Hey!” and looks into it, fixing his bangs until he’s sure they’re perfect.
He’d gone to a hair salon over the weekend with a clear, high quality picture of Taemin’s head from the front, side, and back and asked for the same cut. The hairdresser hadn’t even looked twice. It isn’t uncommon for a high school student to want to copy an idol’s hairstyle, and this is the third haircut Taemin has had in the past two months, and the third hairdresser Jongin has visited in that time.
Jongin remembers the exact date, May 25, 2008. It was during his last year of middle school, a time to start buckling down and focusing on schoolwork. Instead, he replayed SHINee’s debut performance over and over, face nearly glued to the monitor as he searched for a glimpse of that perfect boy, the one who was his age, the one with thin arms who twisted and moved like it was the easiest thing in the world. He spent two hours perfecting Taemin’s dance break, every sweep of his leg and snap of his arm, and had to stay up until four in the morning because he didn’t get any homework done.
The next morning, he asked his mom to sign him up for dance class. He improved faster than anyone else in the class, advancing to the intermediate level in only a few months, staying late after practice to get every move right.
It’s been three years, and his parents are more than unimpressed with his grades, but that doesn’t matter. He’s one of the best dancers in the advanced class, and he knows the choreography to every SHINee song by heart.
“You’ve been looking so much paler lately,” Kyungsoo comments. This is a good thing. Jongin has been using whitening face masks and body washes, and they’re finally starting to have a noticeable effect. “Did you stop going outside or something? What happened to Kkamjong?”
“Don’t call me that,” Jongin says, instinctively pulling away from Kyungsoo’s casual hand on his back.
“But why? Isn’t your tanned skin what makes you sexy?” Sehun stretches out the last word obnoxiously.
Jongin doesn’t want to be sexy. He wants to be cute and universally adored for his young, innocent appeal. He wants to make fangirls scream and cry with a single smile. He jerks back to attention when Sehun pokes him in the arm.
“We’re going to go get ice cream after school. Wanna come?”
Ice cream is fattening, and Jongin needs to stay as thin as he can. “I can’t, I’m busy.”
Jongin skips dinner that night and practices aegyo in his room instead, posing in front of the mirror until he’s perfected his eyesmiles and pouts. When he’s finally satisfied, the Taemin posters on his walls seem to beam in approval at him from all sides.
He’s standing on a stage, half-blinded by stage lights and staring out into a sea of screaming fangirls waving teal balloons.
“What…?” he mumbles, squinting and lifting a hand to shield his eyes.
Then the music starts, the familiar tune of “Lucifer,” and it’s only by sheer muscle memory that he snaps into focus and starts to dance. He knows this song like the back of his hand. This is what he’s been practicing for. When he drags a thumb across his lips, eyes half-lidded, the shrieks multiply tenfold.
When the performance is finally over, the lights dim and he hurries offstage.
“Taemin-ah!” Minho calls. When he turns, Minho grins and reaches him in three wide steps, throwing a friendly arm over his shoulders. “Good performance today.” The other members are behind him, hurrying to catch up.
“When did you learn to make sexy faces, huh?” Jonghyun teases, his smile wide and easy. “I thought that was my job.”
“E-excuse me,” he says, and pulls away from Minho to hurry into the nearest bathroom.
When he leans over the porcelain sink, the face looking back at him in the mirror looks like his own but isn’t.
Jongin wakes up, sweating and half-hard under his blankets. He inhales, then exhales, trying to slow his racing heartbeat, and reaches into his boxers to wrap a loose hand around his cock.
When he closes his eyes again, it’s not his fist but Taemin’s full lips wrapped around his cock, his mouth shaped in a perfect ‘o’ to swallow him deeper. Taemin’s tongue runs down the side of his length, then back up. His glimmering eyes flicker up to meet Jongin’s in a heated gaze, and Jongin remembers seeing those same eyes in the mirror in his dream.
There isn’t even enough time to grab a tissue. Jongin comes right then, thinking of Taemin’s eyes, and gets semen all over his hand and sheets.
The moment Taemin mentions Kaya Scodelario in an interview, Jongin downloads all three seasons of Skins and watches them in one weekend.
She’s pretty, Jongin supposes, but nothing special. He tried jerking off to her once in the shower, just to try it, but the face he kept picturing had short, blond hair and brown eyes.
He’s watching The Goblet of Fire on his laptop for the third time when there’s a knock on the door.
“What?”
“Have you done your homework?” his mother calls, voice muffled.
“I’m busy,” he answers, and puts in his headphones.
The next year and a half is a cycle of going to dance practice, coming home to secretly dance some more in his room, and sleeping through school.
Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo graduate in March, and Jongin never sees them again. They call, once in a while, asking to meet up, but Jongin is always busy. There’s dance practice and dance competitions, on top of keeping up with SHINee’s activities. Eventually, they stop calling.
Jongin graduates the year after that, much to the surprise of both of his parents. He passes his all of his classes, though not by much, and is accepted into several low-tier colleges. He starts college in March, but school has never interested him much, and he doesn’t bother studying that much for any of his classes other than beginner’s Japanese.
He continues to win dance competitions and thinks to himself that he’s getting closer, closer.
Taemin usually leaves for dance practice a bit earlier than the other members, because he likes having the extra time to stretch at his own leisure and try out some new moves. When he arrives, Jaewon and the backup dancers, who usually get there half an hour or so before SHINee, are warming up.
Jaewon comes over to throw a friendly arm over his shoulders. “Ready for practice today?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking Jinki hyung that?” Taemin grins when Jaewon bursts into laughter.
“Fair enough. By the way,”-Jaewon jerks his chin toward the opposite end of the room-“Jiwoo’s replacement arrived. He’s your age, actually, you should go say hi.”
Taemin follows his gaze to a figure stretching on the floor in the corner, and jumps a little when he realizes that the other boy has been staring at him and Jaewon the entire time.
Jaewon doesn’t seem to notice. “Good-looking, isn’t he? Looks a lot like you, actually.”
Taemin sneaks a glance at the other boy; he’s still watching them. “Are you sure it’s not just the hairstyle?” He has the same exact cut as Taemin, except Taemin’s hair is currently a light brown and his is black.
“Hey, I just called you good-looking, you should take the compliment.” Jaewon scoffs, ruffling Taemin’s hair. “Now go make nice.” He gives Taemin a little shove.
The boy’s eyes widen when Taemin approaches him, and he scrambles to his feet, bowing a full ninety degrees.
Taemin bows back, clearing his throat. “Hi, I’m SHINee’s Lee Taemin. It’s nice to meet you.”
The other boy really does look a bit like him, but is good-looking-here Taemin sighs enviously-in a more masculine way. Taemin is surprised that he decided to be a backup dancer when he could’ve easily auditioned to be an idol himself. He’s taller than Taemin, but he slouches and hunches his shoulders in a way that makes him look a bit shorter than he really is.
His eyes are intense, but maybe that’s just because of the way they haven’t moved from Taemin’s face since Jaewon pointed him out to Taemin, maybe since Taemin walked into the practice room. Taemin shifts his weight back and forth between his feet, trying to ignore the uncomfortable prickling on the back of his neck. It’s the guy’s first day at SM, he’s probably just shy, he reasons.
When the other boy finally opens his mouth to speak, his voice is soft and measured. “My name is Ki-” he stops and licks his lips, as if he’s thinking. He smiles. “Just call me Kai.”