[fic] Minho/Key - SHINee - Poolside Escapades
Title: Poolside Escapades
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Minho/Key, short guest appearance by Jonghyun
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Kibum is grumpy. Minho is the best man to distract him. A pool is involved.
Comments: this is dedicated to Nee~ she wanted a poolfic (sorry it’s not quite what it should be, lmao) and only two months later she gets a poolfic 8) CLEARLY, I ROCK. I’m so fast it’s incredible.
“This sucks,” Kibum decides. He’s frowning into his large glass, the soft drink gone and only ice cubes remaining. He’s not referring to the lack of refreshing beverages, though, and they all know it. For the best part of the past half an hour he’s been moaning about the fact that they’re in a classy hotel, far from home, a free evening in their hands and they’re not allowed to go anywhere.
Their manager ignores the murderous glare he gains from Kibum, more than used to those already. He knows that it’s just for show; after all he’s in the receiving end of that look multiple times on the best days. So he doesn’t bat an eyelash, instead motioning vaguely towards the other end of the hotel restaurant that has a miniscule bar. “Have a drink or something.” He turns towards Minho. “Make sure he won’t overdo it, I need you all at your full senses in the morning.”
Kibum is vaguely annoyed by the way Minho is addressed as his guardian, but dismisses the thought as he knows it’s just sensible. He has the tendency to begin wallowing in self-pity if he gets in a cranky mood, which might lead into him accidentally downing more alcohol than is good for him. He needs to be bright and ready to shine first thing in the morning. Still, he doesn’t even really feel like a drink.
The waitress comes to clear their table, just as they’re wished good night, and both Jinki and Taemin opt to retreat into their room as well. Jonghyun is still finishing up his coke, in infuriatingly small sips, and Kibum keeps moodily toying with his napkin. He’s in the process of shredding the poor item into a million tiny pieces as suddenly there’s a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly.
“C’mon,” Minho tries, “you wanna get that drink? I’ll treat you one.”
“No.” Kibum shakes his head. The napkin is folded yet another time, before a long stripe is torn off one side. “Don’t feel like it.”
It’s the kind of moodiness that at first had all of his groupmates confused, not knowing how to deal with him when he got into a rut and was unwilling to be helped out of it. The years together have taught them all well, though, and thus Jonghyun just kicks Kibum’s shin underneath the table. “Stop moping around! You were all chirpy before and now that you can’t go to one damn party you act like it’s the end of the world.”
“But we’re here!” Kibum gestures around wildly, even the napkin forgotten. “What’s the point in travelling if you don’t get to explore your surroundings? Live a little, take a dive into the local nightlife!” He huffs. “And we’re stuck in a hotel with the orders to go to bed.”
“What’s so bad about that?” Jonghyun asks, his smirk so unbearably lewd that it’s not hard to guess what he’s getting at. “No one says you need to sleep in your bed. I could give you a few suggestions,” he laughs, “but I’m quite sure the two of you already mapped out pretty much all the options imaginable.”
“Screw you,” Kibum huffs, more out of habit than anything else.
“No I don’t think Minho would approve,” Jonghyun retorts and like always, Kibum is about to snap back with how he finds Jonghyun’s jokes so incredibly juvenile. He’s distracted by the palm on his thigh as it squeezes again, and the last bits of vague annoyance die down.
So instead, Kibum sighs. “Yeah I know I’m in a mood. I just, I figured we could go check out that party since it’s so close to the hotel. But I guess not.” He tugs on the too long sleeves of his baggy shirt, thinking how he’s not even dressed to impress. He had to shower in a hurry - thanks to Minho - before dinner and is now wearing his favourite oversized shirt and his comfiest pants.
“There’ll be parties,” Minho points out in his typical calm way that always proves to be such a good counterpart to Kibum’s temper
“And if you excuse me,” Jonghyun stands up and stretches, as if to work out a knot on his shoulder. His friends are both fairly sure he’s just stretching to make his shirt ride up a little, seeing how the female bartender is giving him longing glances, like she has been doing for the past hour at least. “I’m going to go get that drink.” He leans down and plants an obnoxiously loud kiss on Kibum’s forehead. “Don’t sulk, baby brother!”
Before Kibum can reply anything, Jonghyun has waltzed off. He’s been successful in making the frown on Kibum’s lips turn upside down, though, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Why is he so ridiculous?” He sighs.
“If I didn’t know better I’d be jealous,” Minho chuckles, the low sound rumbling from his chest in such an achingly familiar way it makes Kibum want to lean closer to him and press his ear on Minho’s chest to listen to him talk. He refrains from that, though, instead opting to punch Minho’s arm with one hand while twining the fingers of the other with the ones on his thigh.
“Now it’s you who’s ridiculous,” he points out, amused.
“I know,” Minho agrees contently. “It worked, though, didn’t it?”
“What worked?” Kibum frowns.
“You’re not sulky anymore.”
What is there to do but laugh? Kibum snorts and shakes his head, straightening from where he has almost managed to lean close enough to use Minho’s sturdy shoulder as a pillow. “Don’t remind me of it or I won’t guarantee things stay this way.” He turns his head, his warm breath ghosting over Minho’s neck as he drops his voice to a low purr. “You should distract me.”
He can feel Minho shiver and it makes him grin, content that his plan is working. Not that he has an actual plan, he just figured he’d unleash his irresistible magical charm on Minho and see where it leads them. Hopefully into something similar to the moment just about two hours ago, when Minho had him bent over the small table in their hotel room. Thinking back to it still makes something twist in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t even try to extinguish the feeling.
Then, all of a sudden, Kibum feels a tight grip on his wrist and he’s pulled up from his seat. He stumbles after Minho, who takes long steps, so long that it’s hard for Kibum to even keep up with him. “Hey slow down!” he barks, but it only results in Minho pulling him along a little more demandingly.
At first Kibum thinks they’re headed back to their hotel room, a thought he isn’t against at all, but to his confusion he realizes they’re off to a completely different direction. “Minho!” He frowns and has half a mind to start screaming if Minho doesn’t stop and answer him. “What are you doing!?”
Before he gains an answer they slip through a door into a darkened corridor. In an instant Minho presses him against the wall, so close there’s not even an inch between their bodies. The only light in the room is the flickering from the bar, from behind the glass door, and it reflects in Minho’s eyes in a way that makes the glint in them look almost dangerous.
Then Minho crosses the last distance between them and kisses Kibum. Hard. He knows exactly how to first coax Kibum into parting his lips, deluding him into thinking that he has the ropes in his hands, only to then plunge forward determinedly to take over. It’s like a game between them; they keep giving and taking, both of them gaining the best of it.
When the kiss breaks Kibum doesn’t even really remember he’s asked anything, but Minho answers him anyway. “Distracting you.” The words are murmured right against Kibum’s pulse point, and before he can collect himself enough to muster up a decent answer Minho goes on and plants a whole row of little kisses along his sharp jaw, nibbling on a spot below his ear.
The gesture makes Kibum giggle, honest-to-god giggle, as Minho’s hair tickles him as much as the feathery kisses, and on top of that he feels somehow unbearably giddy all of a sudden. It’s like a secret make out session in a dark corridor makes all of his troubles vanish and he doesn’t really even care how much it makes him sound like a teenaged girl in love. He can tell Minho is amused by the sudden shift in his mood but he doesn’t bother, instead grabbing Minho’s head to bring him in for another playful kiss.
They spend who knows how long in the dark corridor, both of them getting lost in the moment. It’s kind of like from a movie, Kibum thinks distantly, with the dim lighting and the muffled sound of chatter and music behind the wall they’re leaning against. Easily, Kibum slots his thigh between Minho’s and arches closer against him, rubbing their bodies together in a way that sends the kiss a few notches deeper.
For a split second Kibum is completely convinced that they’ll end up ripping off their clothes right here in the corridor and he’s shocked, not by the thought itself but by the fact that he wouldn’t even really mind. He knows it’s reckless and stupid and that they should be extra super careful. Yet they’re in a hotel in the middle of nowhere, haven’t seen a single fan after the two girls and one stuttering boy asking them for autographs instantly when they arrived. It’s been eerily silent and peaceful, and maybe that lulls them into a sense of security.
“Come.” Minho speaks so suddenly that Kibum almost doesn’t catch it at first, but then he’s again being pulled along, deeper into the corridor. This time it’s not as fast and urgent though as they pause on their way to pin each other against the walls, to simply spend a good moment kissing and enjoying the way they’re like in a world of their own. Almost like they’re escaping the reality for a moment, on a quick adventure.
It seems like Minho knows where he’s going as he determinedly heads down the dark corridor, light getting less and less the further they go. Kibum doesn’t feel like protesting anymore though, but simply tightens his hold on Minho’s hand and follows him, a light-hearted bounce to his steps. He has no idea where they even are, except obviously within the building.
Then Minho opens a door and pulls Kibum into the cooling night. It’s still not cold but the contrast between the almost muggy warmth in the hotel bar and the crisp air outside makes Kibum shiver lightly anyway. One look around confirms that they’re in the inner yard of the hotel, next to the impressive pool surrounded by the concrete walls to shield the area from outsiders.
“Wow,” Kibum lets out a breath, watching the lights glint off the surface of the water. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but Minho seems to adapt much sooner, judging by the way he’s already pulling him along, between the empty lounge chairs, small tables and colourful umbrellas.
“I saw they had a pool,” Minho explains, instinctively lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “I came down to find it while you were showering.”
Kibum scoffs. “I really hope you don’t expect me to hop into the pool!” He eyes the water warily. As pretty as it is, he isn’t exactly keen on midnight skinny dipping, especially not in the inner yard of a hotel. He already opens his mouth to tell Minho that he can do all the swimming by himself, as long as he gets Kibum that drink to enjoy while watching. He doesn’t get that far though, because suddenly there’s a tug on his hand and he stumbles forward, barely catching himself on time not to tumble into the water.
The loud splash that echoes from the walls tells him that not everyone was as quick in their reflexes. “Minho?” He calls instinctively, crouching down on the poolside as he gazes into the dark water. The surface is broken into little waves, swirls around the place where Minho dunked underwater, and he expects the other man to resurface any second.
Except that he doesn’t.
Even after several moments there’s no sign of Minho and Kibum feels the vague sense of worry settle in the pit of his stomach. He’s more annoyed, though, annoyed that Minho makes him restless so easily even when he knows there should be no logical reason to it. “Minho? Stop this. It’s not funny.” He knows he’s basically talking to himself, but nevertheless he leans forward and tries to see beneath the glimmering lights and the pitch black depths. Thank god they’re not at an actual lake, he wouldn’t want to know what lurks in the darkness. At least here he can be pretty sure the only living soul in the pool is Minho.
Seconds later, something wet and cold suddenly grabs his wrist and yanks forward. Kibum barely has the time to screech before he’s drenched thoroughly, coughing and trying to spit water out of his airways. He’s still blinking, damn chlorine stinging his eyes, as he feels strong arms wrap around his middle and pull him close. With an indignant snort he aims a weak punch on Minho’s shoulder, cursing how he can’t issue a believable death-glare with his eyes burning.
“You bastard!” Kibum spits out as soon as he manages to take a deep breath. “Did you do that on purpose!?” His voice is dangerously sulky as it lacks much of the heat he originally wanted to lace into it. Still he doesn’t let it go, not yet, but instead purses his lips and looks decidedly disapproving. “What if I had fucking drowned!?”
The only response he gains is a cocky smirk. “I would’ve saved you.” Minho seems so goddamn happy with himself that it makes Kibum’s anger flare up again. The only thing distracting him is the way he’s being pulled even closer, the way Minho is shamelessly sliding one big palm down to cup Kibum’s rear, even going as far as to give it a good squeeze.
“You’re still not forgiven,” Kibum warns. The words fade into a drawn-out moan when Minho licks into his mouth, shamelessly shutting him up the best way he knows how. Without breaking the kiss he slowly moves them towards the pool’s edge, until he has Kibum pressed against the cool tiles. It proves to be in his advantage, allows him to manhandle Kibum until he’s leaving him a breathless, whimpering mess.
Not that Kibum minds. He’s eagerly wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist, the heel of his shoe pressing almost painfully into the small of Minho’s back as he tries to rub their crotches together for more friction. Maybe it is a bad idea to kiss and grope each other in the hotel pool, even if it is in the middle of the night and surrounded by more shadows than light.
It makes Kibum lightheaded, the kind of freedom the moment implies. He’s so used to watching his every move, to controlling himself and pretending, that being allowed to just exist for a moment out in the open like this makes blood rush in his ears and his heart thrum against his ribcage. He feels drunk with the opportunity, and maybe that’s why he decides to simply go for it.
“How,” Kibum begins with a smirk, as he dives his hands between their bodies and all too easily pops open the button of Minho’s jeans. “How did I ever let you drag me into this?” He doesn’t expect an answer, but instead slides his hand into Minho’s pants, delighted to realize there’s no underwear to battle with. Not that it should surprise him, not anymore after all these years.
Minho huffs out a laugh. “Let me drag you?” He doesn’t need to say that it’s Kibum with his hand down his pants, leisurely stroking him. That is very much implied. Kibum knows exactly what to do to drive him insane even under normal circumstances, and adding the easy friction of the water and their surroundings, he’s fairly sure he’s got no chances to resist.
“Yes,” Kibum breathes, “clearly.” Shamelessly he runs his tongue along Minho’s lips and parts them to gain what he wants. The kiss is sloppy and not at all controlled but neither of them really minds, not with the way they’re both panting and grinning into the contact. When Kibum pulls back his lips are glistening, invitingly reddened. “I am innocent.”
At the exact moment he twists his wrist and has Minho gasping, shuddering right against him. “Clearly,” Minho replies, laughter resonating in his voice as he can’t hide his amusement. He can’t help but thrust shallowly into the circle of Kibum’s fingers, instinctively seeking out more friction that makes his head spin and his knees feel weak.
Even with the added buoyancy from the water, Minho knows he won’t be able to keep this position up for very long. So he moves, now that he still feels like there’s some strength left to his limbs. He hoists Kibum up on the poolside, quickly following him on the wet tiles. They’re both soaked thoroughly, their clothes clinging on to their skin, but that’s hardly relevant right now. What matters is how hot Kibum’s mouth is against his when he leans in to kiss him slow, deep, possessive.
Once it breaks naturally, Kibum is grinning at him. “I love it when you manhandle me,” he confesses, even though there’s nothing surprising about that statement anymore. The pale strands of his hair are sticking to his forehead, water pooling underneath him on the stones. It’s such an enticing sight that Minho has to dip down again, to tongue along the perfect curve of those lips and between them, to stake a claim. The thought probably shouldn’t get him off as much as it does.
Thankfully Kibum is wearing the easy-access comfy sweats and it’s easy to peel them off him, even with how the wet fabric is clinging on to every inch of his legs. Minho’s jeans are a trickier case but they don’t bother with them after they manage to tug them down just past the swell of his butt. Good enough for their purposes.
They kiss again, and Minho is sliding his palms down Kibum’s thighs to take the next step further. Then suddenly his world flips around in a blur of motion, until it’s him with his back pressed against the tiles and Kibum grinning at him from above. “I know you’re such a control freak,” he teases, eyes sparkling, “but I figured you could for once just lean back and enjoy.”
Despite the words Minho doesn’t want to remain completely passive and he’s already reaching behind Kibum, giving his bottom a light pat, followed by a good squeeze. “I can do that,” he answers, unable to fight the answering smirk. He slips a finger in the cleft of Kibum’s ass, teasingly brushing his fingers down.
“Oh fuck.” Kibum presses his eyes tightly shut for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips as Minho finally presses a long middle finger inside of him. He shudders involuntarily, biting the insides of his cheeks as he rocks back to gain more of the sensations. He’s still slick from the quickie they got in just before dinner - the stains are probably still all over the carpet in their room - and it’s way too easy to slide in the third finger, all the way down to the knuckles.
That makes Minho look so unbelievably smug that Kibum instinctively punches him on the shoulder. Not that there’s any real heat behind it, especially not with the way he’s shaking. It’d be almost embarrassing to seem so needy, if he didn’t know they’re both equally into it. “You. You are unbearable!” He’s contradicting his words immediately by canting his hips, urging Minho to finger him properly.
Instead, he’s suddenly empty again, cursing under his breath.
“I know,” Minho replies. He looks even cockier, but his palms are big and warm on Kibum’s hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles on the sharp hipbones, as he guides him into position.
Kibum huffs. “I hate you.” Unceremoniously he reaches behind himself to give Minho a couple of slow, teasing strokes, tightening his fist enough to make sure Minho is struggling for control, muscles taut underneath him. Then, slow like he has all the time in the world, he sinks down on Minho’s cock, revelling in the way he can feel the stretch, inch after inch.
It’s always the same, yet always different, and Kibum feels like he can never really get enough, not in this lifetime. Minho always touches him like he’s something precious, and what he doesn’t say in words, he says in every single movement of his body. It sounds incredibly cheesy and that’s one reason why Kibum never addresses it either, no matter how much he secretly enjoys it.
“No,” Minho breathes out, in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You love me.” The only answer he gets is an annoyed groan, before Kibum pushes down again, taking all of him in.
Just like that it turns almost frantic. Minho’s fingers are digging into Kibum’s hips, and there are bound to be bruises on the tender skin in the morning. He arches his back, trying his very best to stay as still as he can to obey Kibum’s orders to lean back and enjoy. It’s not like he needs to do anything, not with the way Kibum is picking up a fast, erratic pace, spine curved back with his hands steady on Minho’s knees, fingers grabbing the heavy material of the drenched jeans.
Kibum is shuddering, a continuous string of obscenities falling from his bitten lips as he finds the exactly right angle. He looks so good, fucking himself down on Minho’s cock, head bent to expose the column of his throat. Minho feels the primal need to sink his teeth right there, wants to lick off the droplets of water, to suck a bruise on Kibum’s neck to mark ownership even though he knows it’s absolutely stupid. So instead he tightens his grip even further, tries to aid Kibum in his movements to bring them both over the edge.
It’s Minho who loses the battle first, a guttural sound tearing free from deep in his chest. He arches up, not fully in control of his movements anymore as he rides off the waves of orgasm. Kibum follows soon behind, his eyes snapping wide open as if he’s surprised it’s already over, before intense shudders wreck him from head to toe.
As if in a dream Minho’s fingers are suddenly in Kibum’s hair, tangling in the longer strands as he gets a good grip and yanks him close for a kiss. It’s uncoordinated, way too much tongue and teeth, but it’s not like either of them is complaining. Kibum practically purrs right against Minho’s mouth, leaning in closer until his elbows are placed on either side of Minho’s head. His hair is still so wet it’s dripping on Minho’s face, but Minho just laughs breathlessly as he shakes the droplets out of his eyes.
“You know,” Kibum chuckles as he finally pulls back a bit. He can’t deny himself another kiss though, aiming to make it short. That proves to be futile when Minho just pulls him in and refuses to let go before they’re both again so out of breath their chests are heaving. Kibum laughs then, loud and clear. “I forgot what I was going to say. Jackass.”
“It’ll come to you.” Minho feels just about as giddy as Kibum looks. He reaches out to brush the hair off Kibum’s forehead. “How about a long, hot shower?” Their clothes are wet, clinging on to them like second skin, and the breeze is starting to get a little chilly.
Kibum answers in the form of a kiss, but of course he has to be contradictory about it as soon as he pulls back to speak again. “How about a long, hot bath?”
Okay, now that’s a thought Minho knows he could get behind and quickly he sits up, making Kibum squeak a little. He almost falls backwards but then Minho’s hands are on his waist, an arm sliding around his back to hold him in position. They’re face to face, sharing the same breath, lips almost touching.
“A bath,” Minho begins, his voice a low rumble. He can feel Kibum shiver on his lap and then his mouth is claimed in a slow, sensual kiss that makes every single thought fly far from his mind. He focuses on the shared heat, on the way Kibum’s fingers are gently rubbing into his scalp, on the content hum the kiss muffles.
It’s long after when Minho gets the chance to finish that thought. “That bath.” He clears his throat, feigning calmness. “Will have to wait.”
Kibum laughs, loud and obnoxious. It’s so characteristically Kibum that it’s impossible to not join in.
---
(4245 words)
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okay this was born when me and Nee were watching Minho’s drama and they were constantly thrown/jumping/falling into the pool and we wasted a complete episode just talking about how hot it would be if Minho and Key would get it on all wet and… this isn’t at all how it was supposed to be since the fic decided to run away from me but. shutting up. yes.
I seriously spent two months on this what is wrong with me!?!? …and now that I’m done I kinda wanna write another where Minho has Key bent over the edge of the pool while they’re still standing in the shallow end and okay gonna shut up for real.
hopefully this will be the end of this non-writing period :|
@DW.
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Minho/Key, short guest appearance by Jonghyun
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Kibum is grumpy. Minho is the best man to distract him. A pool is involved.
Comments: this is dedicated to Nee~ she wanted a poolfic (sorry it’s not quite what it should be, lmao) and only two months later she gets a poolfic 8) CLEARLY, I ROCK. I’m so fast it’s incredible.
“This sucks,” Kibum decides. He’s frowning into his large glass, the soft drink gone and only ice cubes remaining. He’s not referring to the lack of refreshing beverages, though, and they all know it. For the best part of the past half an hour he’s been moaning about the fact that they’re in a classy hotel, far from home, a free evening in their hands and they’re not allowed to go anywhere.
Their manager ignores the murderous glare he gains from Kibum, more than used to those already. He knows that it’s just for show; after all he’s in the receiving end of that look multiple times on the best days. So he doesn’t bat an eyelash, instead motioning vaguely towards the other end of the hotel restaurant that has a miniscule bar. “Have a drink or something.” He turns towards Minho. “Make sure he won’t overdo it, I need you all at your full senses in the morning.”
Kibum is vaguely annoyed by the way Minho is addressed as his guardian, but dismisses the thought as he knows it’s just sensible. He has the tendency to begin wallowing in self-pity if he gets in a cranky mood, which might lead into him accidentally downing more alcohol than is good for him. He needs to be bright and ready to shine first thing in the morning. Still, he doesn’t even really feel like a drink.
The waitress comes to clear their table, just as they’re wished good night, and both Jinki and Taemin opt to retreat into their room as well. Jonghyun is still finishing up his coke, in infuriatingly small sips, and Kibum keeps moodily toying with his napkin. He’s in the process of shredding the poor item into a million tiny pieces as suddenly there’s a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly.
“C’mon,” Minho tries, “you wanna get that drink? I’ll treat you one.”
“No.” Kibum shakes his head. The napkin is folded yet another time, before a long stripe is torn off one side. “Don’t feel like it.”
It’s the kind of moodiness that at first had all of his groupmates confused, not knowing how to deal with him when he got into a rut and was unwilling to be helped out of it. The years together have taught them all well, though, and thus Jonghyun just kicks Kibum’s shin underneath the table. “Stop moping around! You were all chirpy before and now that you can’t go to one damn party you act like it’s the end of the world.”
“But we’re here!” Kibum gestures around wildly, even the napkin forgotten. “What’s the point in travelling if you don’t get to explore your surroundings? Live a little, take a dive into the local nightlife!” He huffs. “And we’re stuck in a hotel with the orders to go to bed.”
“What’s so bad about that?” Jonghyun asks, his smirk so unbearably lewd that it’s not hard to guess what he’s getting at. “No one says you need to sleep in your bed. I could give you a few suggestions,” he laughs, “but I’m quite sure the two of you already mapped out pretty much all the options imaginable.”
“Screw you,” Kibum huffs, more out of habit than anything else.
“No I don’t think Minho would approve,” Jonghyun retorts and like always, Kibum is about to snap back with how he finds Jonghyun’s jokes so incredibly juvenile. He’s distracted by the palm on his thigh as it squeezes again, and the last bits of vague annoyance die down.
So instead, Kibum sighs. “Yeah I know I’m in a mood. I just, I figured we could go check out that party since it’s so close to the hotel. But I guess not.” He tugs on the too long sleeves of his baggy shirt, thinking how he’s not even dressed to impress. He had to shower in a hurry - thanks to Minho - before dinner and is now wearing his favourite oversized shirt and his comfiest pants.
“There’ll be parties,” Minho points out in his typical calm way that always proves to be such a good counterpart to Kibum’s temper
“And if you excuse me,” Jonghyun stands up and stretches, as if to work out a knot on his shoulder. His friends are both fairly sure he’s just stretching to make his shirt ride up a little, seeing how the female bartender is giving him longing glances, like she has been doing for the past hour at least. “I’m going to go get that drink.” He leans down and plants an obnoxiously loud kiss on Kibum’s forehead. “Don’t sulk, baby brother!”
Before Kibum can reply anything, Jonghyun has waltzed off. He’s been successful in making the frown on Kibum’s lips turn upside down, though, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Why is he so ridiculous?” He sighs.
“If I didn’t know better I’d be jealous,” Minho chuckles, the low sound rumbling from his chest in such an achingly familiar way it makes Kibum want to lean closer to him and press his ear on Minho’s chest to listen to him talk. He refrains from that, though, instead opting to punch Minho’s arm with one hand while twining the fingers of the other with the ones on his thigh.
“Now it’s you who’s ridiculous,” he points out, amused.
“I know,” Minho agrees contently. “It worked, though, didn’t it?”
“What worked?” Kibum frowns.
“You’re not sulky anymore.”
What is there to do but laugh? Kibum snorts and shakes his head, straightening from where he has almost managed to lean close enough to use Minho’s sturdy shoulder as a pillow. “Don’t remind me of it or I won’t guarantee things stay this way.” He turns his head, his warm breath ghosting over Minho’s neck as he drops his voice to a low purr. “You should distract me.”
He can feel Minho shiver and it makes him grin, content that his plan is working. Not that he has an actual plan, he just figured he’d unleash his irresistible magical charm on Minho and see where it leads them. Hopefully into something similar to the moment just about two hours ago, when Minho had him bent over the small table in their hotel room. Thinking back to it still makes something twist in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t even try to extinguish the feeling.
Then, all of a sudden, Kibum feels a tight grip on his wrist and he’s pulled up from his seat. He stumbles after Minho, who takes long steps, so long that it’s hard for Kibum to even keep up with him. “Hey slow down!” he barks, but it only results in Minho pulling him along a little more demandingly.
At first Kibum thinks they’re headed back to their hotel room, a thought he isn’t against at all, but to his confusion he realizes they’re off to a completely different direction. “Minho!” He frowns and has half a mind to start screaming if Minho doesn’t stop and answer him. “What are you doing!?”
Before he gains an answer they slip through a door into a darkened corridor. In an instant Minho presses him against the wall, so close there’s not even an inch between their bodies. The only light in the room is the flickering from the bar, from behind the glass door, and it reflects in Minho’s eyes in a way that makes the glint in them look almost dangerous.
Then Minho crosses the last distance between them and kisses Kibum. Hard. He knows exactly how to first coax Kibum into parting his lips, deluding him into thinking that he has the ropes in his hands, only to then plunge forward determinedly to take over. It’s like a game between them; they keep giving and taking, both of them gaining the best of it.
When the kiss breaks Kibum doesn’t even really remember he’s asked anything, but Minho answers him anyway. “Distracting you.” The words are murmured right against Kibum’s pulse point, and before he can collect himself enough to muster up a decent answer Minho goes on and plants a whole row of little kisses along his sharp jaw, nibbling on a spot below his ear.
The gesture makes Kibum giggle, honest-to-god giggle, as Minho’s hair tickles him as much as the feathery kisses, and on top of that he feels somehow unbearably giddy all of a sudden. It’s like a secret make out session in a dark corridor makes all of his troubles vanish and he doesn’t really even care how much it makes him sound like a teenaged girl in love. He can tell Minho is amused by the sudden shift in his mood but he doesn’t bother, instead grabbing Minho’s head to bring him in for another playful kiss.
They spend who knows how long in the dark corridor, both of them getting lost in the moment. It’s kind of like from a movie, Kibum thinks distantly, with the dim lighting and the muffled sound of chatter and music behind the wall they’re leaning against. Easily, Kibum slots his thigh between Minho’s and arches closer against him, rubbing their bodies together in a way that sends the kiss a few notches deeper.
For a split second Kibum is completely convinced that they’ll end up ripping off their clothes right here in the corridor and he’s shocked, not by the thought itself but by the fact that he wouldn’t even really mind. He knows it’s reckless and stupid and that they should be extra super careful. Yet they’re in a hotel in the middle of nowhere, haven’t seen a single fan after the two girls and one stuttering boy asking them for autographs instantly when they arrived. It’s been eerily silent and peaceful, and maybe that lulls them into a sense of security.
“Come.” Minho speaks so suddenly that Kibum almost doesn’t catch it at first, but then he’s again being pulled along, deeper into the corridor. This time it’s not as fast and urgent though as they pause on their way to pin each other against the walls, to simply spend a good moment kissing and enjoying the way they’re like in a world of their own. Almost like they’re escaping the reality for a moment, on a quick adventure.
It seems like Minho knows where he’s going as he determinedly heads down the dark corridor, light getting less and less the further they go. Kibum doesn’t feel like protesting anymore though, but simply tightens his hold on Minho’s hand and follows him, a light-hearted bounce to his steps. He has no idea where they even are, except obviously within the building.
Then Minho opens a door and pulls Kibum into the cooling night. It’s still not cold but the contrast between the almost muggy warmth in the hotel bar and the crisp air outside makes Kibum shiver lightly anyway. One look around confirms that they’re in the inner yard of the hotel, next to the impressive pool surrounded by the concrete walls to shield the area from outsiders.
“Wow,” Kibum lets out a breath, watching the lights glint off the surface of the water. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but Minho seems to adapt much sooner, judging by the way he’s already pulling him along, between the empty lounge chairs, small tables and colourful umbrellas.
“I saw they had a pool,” Minho explains, instinctively lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “I came down to find it while you were showering.”
Kibum scoffs. “I really hope you don’t expect me to hop into the pool!” He eyes the water warily. As pretty as it is, he isn’t exactly keen on midnight skinny dipping, especially not in the inner yard of a hotel. He already opens his mouth to tell Minho that he can do all the swimming by himself, as long as he gets Kibum that drink to enjoy while watching. He doesn’t get that far though, because suddenly there’s a tug on his hand and he stumbles forward, barely catching himself on time not to tumble into the water.
The loud splash that echoes from the walls tells him that not everyone was as quick in their reflexes. “Minho?” He calls instinctively, crouching down on the poolside as he gazes into the dark water. The surface is broken into little waves, swirls around the place where Minho dunked underwater, and he expects the other man to resurface any second.
Except that he doesn’t.
Even after several moments there’s no sign of Minho and Kibum feels the vague sense of worry settle in the pit of his stomach. He’s more annoyed, though, annoyed that Minho makes him restless so easily even when he knows there should be no logical reason to it. “Minho? Stop this. It’s not funny.” He knows he’s basically talking to himself, but nevertheless he leans forward and tries to see beneath the glimmering lights and the pitch black depths. Thank god they’re not at an actual lake, he wouldn’t want to know what lurks in the darkness. At least here he can be pretty sure the only living soul in the pool is Minho.
Seconds later, something wet and cold suddenly grabs his wrist and yanks forward. Kibum barely has the time to screech before he’s drenched thoroughly, coughing and trying to spit water out of his airways. He’s still blinking, damn chlorine stinging his eyes, as he feels strong arms wrap around his middle and pull him close. With an indignant snort he aims a weak punch on Minho’s shoulder, cursing how he can’t issue a believable death-glare with his eyes burning.
“You bastard!” Kibum spits out as soon as he manages to take a deep breath. “Did you do that on purpose!?” His voice is dangerously sulky as it lacks much of the heat he originally wanted to lace into it. Still he doesn’t let it go, not yet, but instead purses his lips and looks decidedly disapproving. “What if I had fucking drowned!?”
The only response he gains is a cocky smirk. “I would’ve saved you.” Minho seems so goddamn happy with himself that it makes Kibum’s anger flare up again. The only thing distracting him is the way he’s being pulled even closer, the way Minho is shamelessly sliding one big palm down to cup Kibum’s rear, even going as far as to give it a good squeeze.
“You’re still not forgiven,” Kibum warns. The words fade into a drawn-out moan when Minho licks into his mouth, shamelessly shutting him up the best way he knows how. Without breaking the kiss he slowly moves them towards the pool’s edge, until he has Kibum pressed against the cool tiles. It proves to be in his advantage, allows him to manhandle Kibum until he’s leaving him a breathless, whimpering mess.
Not that Kibum minds. He’s eagerly wrapped his legs around Minho’s waist, the heel of his shoe pressing almost painfully into the small of Minho’s back as he tries to rub their crotches together for more friction. Maybe it is a bad idea to kiss and grope each other in the hotel pool, even if it is in the middle of the night and surrounded by more shadows than light.
It makes Kibum lightheaded, the kind of freedom the moment implies. He’s so used to watching his every move, to controlling himself and pretending, that being allowed to just exist for a moment out in the open like this makes blood rush in his ears and his heart thrum against his ribcage. He feels drunk with the opportunity, and maybe that’s why he decides to simply go for it.
“How,” Kibum begins with a smirk, as he dives his hands between their bodies and all too easily pops open the button of Minho’s jeans. “How did I ever let you drag me into this?” He doesn’t expect an answer, but instead slides his hand into Minho’s pants, delighted to realize there’s no underwear to battle with. Not that it should surprise him, not anymore after all these years.
Minho huffs out a laugh. “Let me drag you?” He doesn’t need to say that it’s Kibum with his hand down his pants, leisurely stroking him. That is very much implied. Kibum knows exactly what to do to drive him insane even under normal circumstances, and adding the easy friction of the water and their surroundings, he’s fairly sure he’s got no chances to resist.
“Yes,” Kibum breathes, “clearly.” Shamelessly he runs his tongue along Minho’s lips and parts them to gain what he wants. The kiss is sloppy and not at all controlled but neither of them really minds, not with the way they’re both panting and grinning into the contact. When Kibum pulls back his lips are glistening, invitingly reddened. “I am innocent.”
At the exact moment he twists his wrist and has Minho gasping, shuddering right against him. “Clearly,” Minho replies, laughter resonating in his voice as he can’t hide his amusement. He can’t help but thrust shallowly into the circle of Kibum’s fingers, instinctively seeking out more friction that makes his head spin and his knees feel weak.
Even with the added buoyancy from the water, Minho knows he won’t be able to keep this position up for very long. So he moves, now that he still feels like there’s some strength left to his limbs. He hoists Kibum up on the poolside, quickly following him on the wet tiles. They’re both soaked thoroughly, their clothes clinging on to their skin, but that’s hardly relevant right now. What matters is how hot Kibum’s mouth is against his when he leans in to kiss him slow, deep, possessive.
Once it breaks naturally, Kibum is grinning at him. “I love it when you manhandle me,” he confesses, even though there’s nothing surprising about that statement anymore. The pale strands of his hair are sticking to his forehead, water pooling underneath him on the stones. It’s such an enticing sight that Minho has to dip down again, to tongue along the perfect curve of those lips and between them, to stake a claim. The thought probably shouldn’t get him off as much as it does.
Thankfully Kibum is wearing the easy-access comfy sweats and it’s easy to peel them off him, even with how the wet fabric is clinging on to every inch of his legs. Minho’s jeans are a trickier case but they don’t bother with them after they manage to tug them down just past the swell of his butt. Good enough for their purposes.
They kiss again, and Minho is sliding his palms down Kibum’s thighs to take the next step further. Then suddenly his world flips around in a blur of motion, until it’s him with his back pressed against the tiles and Kibum grinning at him from above. “I know you’re such a control freak,” he teases, eyes sparkling, “but I figured you could for once just lean back and enjoy.”
Despite the words Minho doesn’t want to remain completely passive and he’s already reaching behind Kibum, giving his bottom a light pat, followed by a good squeeze. “I can do that,” he answers, unable to fight the answering smirk. He slips a finger in the cleft of Kibum’s ass, teasingly brushing his fingers down.
“Oh fuck.” Kibum presses his eyes tightly shut for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips as Minho finally presses a long middle finger inside of him. He shudders involuntarily, biting the insides of his cheeks as he rocks back to gain more of the sensations. He’s still slick from the quickie they got in just before dinner - the stains are probably still all over the carpet in their room - and it’s way too easy to slide in the third finger, all the way down to the knuckles.
That makes Minho look so unbelievably smug that Kibum instinctively punches him on the shoulder. Not that there’s any real heat behind it, especially not with the way he’s shaking. It’d be almost embarrassing to seem so needy, if he didn’t know they’re both equally into it. “You. You are unbearable!” He’s contradicting his words immediately by canting his hips, urging Minho to finger him properly.
Instead, he’s suddenly empty again, cursing under his breath.
“I know,” Minho replies. He looks even cockier, but his palms are big and warm on Kibum’s hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles on the sharp hipbones, as he guides him into position.
Kibum huffs. “I hate you.” Unceremoniously he reaches behind himself to give Minho a couple of slow, teasing strokes, tightening his fist enough to make sure Minho is struggling for control, muscles taut underneath him. Then, slow like he has all the time in the world, he sinks down on Minho’s cock, revelling in the way he can feel the stretch, inch after inch.
It’s always the same, yet always different, and Kibum feels like he can never really get enough, not in this lifetime. Minho always touches him like he’s something precious, and what he doesn’t say in words, he says in every single movement of his body. It sounds incredibly cheesy and that’s one reason why Kibum never addresses it either, no matter how much he secretly enjoys it.
“No,” Minho breathes out, in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You love me.” The only answer he gets is an annoyed groan, before Kibum pushes down again, taking all of him in.
Just like that it turns almost frantic. Minho’s fingers are digging into Kibum’s hips, and there are bound to be bruises on the tender skin in the morning. He arches his back, trying his very best to stay as still as he can to obey Kibum’s orders to lean back and enjoy. It’s not like he needs to do anything, not with the way Kibum is picking up a fast, erratic pace, spine curved back with his hands steady on Minho’s knees, fingers grabbing the heavy material of the drenched jeans.
Kibum is shuddering, a continuous string of obscenities falling from his bitten lips as he finds the exactly right angle. He looks so good, fucking himself down on Minho’s cock, head bent to expose the column of his throat. Minho feels the primal need to sink his teeth right there, wants to lick off the droplets of water, to suck a bruise on Kibum’s neck to mark ownership even though he knows it’s absolutely stupid. So instead he tightens his grip even further, tries to aid Kibum in his movements to bring them both over the edge.
It’s Minho who loses the battle first, a guttural sound tearing free from deep in his chest. He arches up, not fully in control of his movements anymore as he rides off the waves of orgasm. Kibum follows soon behind, his eyes snapping wide open as if he’s surprised it’s already over, before intense shudders wreck him from head to toe.
As if in a dream Minho’s fingers are suddenly in Kibum’s hair, tangling in the longer strands as he gets a good grip and yanks him close for a kiss. It’s uncoordinated, way too much tongue and teeth, but it’s not like either of them is complaining. Kibum practically purrs right against Minho’s mouth, leaning in closer until his elbows are placed on either side of Minho’s head. His hair is still so wet it’s dripping on Minho’s face, but Minho just laughs breathlessly as he shakes the droplets out of his eyes.
“You know,” Kibum chuckles as he finally pulls back a bit. He can’t deny himself another kiss though, aiming to make it short. That proves to be futile when Minho just pulls him in and refuses to let go before they’re both again so out of breath their chests are heaving. Kibum laughs then, loud and clear. “I forgot what I was going to say. Jackass.”
“It’ll come to you.” Minho feels just about as giddy as Kibum looks. He reaches out to brush the hair off Kibum’s forehead. “How about a long, hot shower?” Their clothes are wet, clinging on to them like second skin, and the breeze is starting to get a little chilly.
Kibum answers in the form of a kiss, but of course he has to be contradictory about it as soon as he pulls back to speak again. “How about a long, hot bath?”
Okay, now that’s a thought Minho knows he could get behind and quickly he sits up, making Kibum squeak a little. He almost falls backwards but then Minho’s hands are on his waist, an arm sliding around his back to hold him in position. They’re face to face, sharing the same breath, lips almost touching.
“A bath,” Minho begins, his voice a low rumble. He can feel Kibum shiver on his lap and then his mouth is claimed in a slow, sensual kiss that makes every single thought fly far from his mind. He focuses on the shared heat, on the way Kibum’s fingers are gently rubbing into his scalp, on the content hum the kiss muffles.
It’s long after when Minho gets the chance to finish that thought. “That bath.” He clears his throat, feigning calmness. “Will have to wait.”
Kibum laughs, loud and obnoxious. It’s so characteristically Kibum that it’s impossible to not join in.
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(4245 words)
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okay this was born when me and Nee were watching Minho’s drama and they were constantly thrown/jumping/falling into the pool and we wasted a complete episode just talking about how hot it would be if Minho and Key would get it on all wet and… this isn’t at all how it was supposed to be since the fic decided to run away from me but. shutting up. yes.
I seriously spent two months on this what is wrong with me!?!? …and now that I’m done I kinda wanna write another where Minho has Key bent over the edge of the pool while they’re still standing in the shallow end and okay gonna shut up for real.
hopefully this will be the end of this non-writing period :|
@DW.