SSS 2012: For colorfulgrey
For: colorfulgrey
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Absolution
Pairing: (Minho/Taemin, Taemin/Key, Minho/Key)
Rating: NC-17
Authors’ Notes: Dear Colorfulgrey, I might need to ask for your forgiveness for the extra pairing, but it was necessary for the plot I crafted. I hope I’m not spoiling your enjoyment.
ab·so·lu·tion noun \ˌab-sə-ˈlü-shən\
: the act of absolving; specifically : a remission of sins pronounced by a priest (as in the sacrament of reconciliation)
If someone else were to come and tell him about the fact, Minho wouldn’t have believed that Kibum could ever be unfaithful. Of course, Minho could never dismiss the fact that things had been shaky between them during the last few months. They had been busy as their graduation was coming, with so many projects along the way. Still, Minho had never considered Kibum to be someone that could commit to such a thing as infidelity.
However, he had seen the evidence of it with his own eyes. Embraced by the darkness of the university’s auditorium where Kibum’s theater team were supposed to be having rehearsals, Minho witnessed how Kibum had taken someone else into his arms, embraced him the way he did Minho--once upon a time; his fiery eyes stared at the man in undisclosed passion, before they fluttered close as his and the stranger’s lips melted into a heated kiss. Their hands roamed, unhesitant as they undid each others’ clothes; Kibum’s suppressed moan echoed, his back arched, fingers buried deep into the tangle of the stranger’s hair whose mouth began to travel the expanse of his chest, down to his belly.
“Take me already...”
Minho had heard Kibum panted, the tone of his voice was eerily familiar. He had heard the expression for so many times, but never during the beginning of their sexual relationship--Kibum was too reclusive and proud then. The lack of reluctance and restrains were the cue that told him it wasn’t the first time Kibum and the stranger had done it. It was also when Minho knew that he had seen enough, that the damage had been done, and that there was nothing he could do to reverse both the knowledge and the fact.
Back in his dorm, Minho abandoned the duffel bag as his endurance came to an end. His chest was constricted, pressed by turmoil of desperation and rage. Falling on his hands and knees on the hardwood floor, Minho allowed himself a moment of weakness as he broke down into a crying mess.
Minho stared at the face of the man--boy--who delivered his breakfast, young and innocent-looking he was, and doubted the fact that it was indeed the very same person he saw kissing Kibum the other day. He couldn’t possibly be a day older than 20, Minho had thought as he slowly sipped his coffee, with his still undefined facial feature, childish grin and all.
Lee Taemin, his name tag read.
Of course, Minho could not deny the charm the boy had. Throughout his breakfast he had adamantly stared at Lee Taemin, watching his every move. Tall and lean, he had a beautiful face that was delicately framed by tousled reddish locks. The way he laughed to the customer was like infectious mirth, drawing smiles from those who heard and saw. And by the time he finished the croissant, coincidentally one of the best he had ever tasted, Minho had gotten to doubt his own judgment.
What if I was wrong? What if I made a mistake and it turns out that he wasn’t the one?
But he was right, afterall. He had gone through length to discover the stranger's true identity. There was no way that Minho could have made a mistake in identifying the tiny hand that he saw resting on Kibum’s chest and nape, the full lips that he saw engulfing Kibum’s, or the exact brown shade of the hair which Kibum had grasped passionately. It was indeed the boy--the one Kibum seeing behind his back, the other party of Kibum’s infidelity which he himself witnessed.
By the time Minho finished his breakfast, his determination had returned. He waved to the boy--Lee Taemin--and asked for his bill, while casually throwing in some compliment on the croissant. Minho saw Lee Taemin’s eyes flickered with glee, toothy smile bloomed on his face.
“It’s our pleasure! We hope to serve you again sometime soon.” He said.
Be careful of what you wish for...
Minho had smiled back, “Most definitely.”
He had then made a habit of making appearances at the diner where Lee Taemin worked. Through the hours he spent sitting on a bench at nearby park, watching as Lee Taemin arrived and left on his old bike, he was able to map the boy’s shift throughout the week. Minho conveniently created a series of coincidences, appearing in the middle of Taemin’s shift, causing the boy to notice him with his frequent visits.
On the third Saturday since his initial appearance in the coffee shop, Minho finally harvested the fruit of his labor. As usual, Taemin was the one who attended Minho’s corner table. Only that time, he did not just pick and deliver Minho’s order with his usual smile. Instead he lingered, eyes flickered with curiosity as he watched Minho spread some butter over his warm croissant.
“You sure come here often...” He said.
Minho looked up from his meal and raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t it supposed to be a good thing? I told you I found the croissant remarkably delicious.” So far, he had not lied.
“Of course,” Taemin smiled in embarrassment. “I just find it strange how you suddenly appeared one day, and become a regular in no time.”
“Well...” Minho stretched his body, preparing to tell his first lie. “I recently started working part time somewhere nearby, and I haven’t found any other joint I consider better in the vicinity.”
Taemin hesitated for a second, before he spoke again. “I...I notice that you have been staring at me from time to time.”
“Hmm...” Minho smiled in amusement as he watched the boy’s face grew red. “Maybe I am? What do you make of it?”
Before Taemin managed to reply, there was a sound of chime from the kitchen. It was a call for him, an order was ready to be delivered.
“I--I have to go.” He smiled awkwardly and scurried away. But the blush on his face was evident enough for Minho to see.
Saved by the bell, Minho thought. How lucky you are, really
“Where were you these last few days?”
Kibum’s question greeted Minho as soon as he arrived back at his dorm, still in his damp varsity jersey. He had just finished the afternoon training session with the football team. Minho dropped his duffel bag on the floor, took several big gulps from his water bottle before replying.
“Out at the field. The season’s determining matches are coming soon and a lot of scouts are coming. I have to be there if I want to be discovered.”
“You didn’t even turn on your phone.”
“I forgot to charge it somehow.” Minho lied down on his bed, at the opposite end from where Kibum sat. “I have so many things in my mind that I keep forgetting things.”
“Well, I just hope that you will not forget my graduation stage.” Kibum sighed heavily.
Minho raised his head “It’s been scheduled?”
Kibum nodded, pointing at the envelope he had placed earlier on Minho's bedside drawer. “You will find the detail in the invitation. There’s also a backstage pass."
"Backstage pass? Wil I need it?" Minho's hand reached out and took the envelope in his hands.
"No," Kibum shook his head. "I will need you there."
Minho looked up into Kibum's eyes and, beyond the straight stare, saw the lurking anxiety. He, however, chose to ignore it, and toying with the envelope in his hand instead. He read neat, classic print emblazoned in gold ink and raised his eyebrows.
“La Traviata?”
Kibum nodded, “Yeah. Haven’t I told you? My project is adapting the Opera’s piece into musical stage.”
“I must have forgot it...” Minho words trailed off as his mind was occupied by otherwise thought. ’how appropriate...’*
Things had not happened quickly, but after the encounter Taemin had somehow gradually opened up. Minho felt the slightly different treatment Taemin gave him during the visit--subtle, but it was there. First, he began to call Minho by name; had asked for it few days after their conversation.
“If you’re gonna be one of the regulars, I think it’s proper if I call you by name. Besides, it’s just fair--I assume you’ve known mine.”
Minho also noticed how the number of accompanying cookies that came with his coffee multiplied, and how Taemin deliberately added extra blocks of butter--knowing that Minho took no other condiment with his croissant. Slowly, the thing between them developed itself into friendship, in which Minho began to sit at the bar instead of corner table, whereas Taemin would come over and chat up with him whenever he was not working.
It was like a chain reaction, then, things between them; Minho began to wait for Taemin’s shift to end, they would walk together and talk along the way to the station where Taemin would take his train back home. After the first few walks, Taemin started to agree stopping by at the park and eating the food they bought at the foodcart. Later, he would allow Minho to pay for his coffee or food, and one time, to walk him home. He had not, however, consented to Minho’s invitation for a dinner outside the walk to the station, or even stopping by at the movies after work.
Minho had asked why, and Taemin’s answer was “I still have some sort of unfinished business which is stopping me from coming.”
To the ambiguous answer, Minho had kept silent. Taemin did not explain, and Minho did not ask further. The latter, however, had his own guesses.
It was an evening at the end of spring where the sky was dark and raining cats and dog, around the fifteenth week since Minho first came to the coffee shop, when they first kissed. Droplets had begun to fall even before they left the coffee shop for their usual walk to the train station. However, no one could have expected the swiftly-coming thunder cloud and the amount of rain it brought. It was chaotic, how people on the busy street frantically ran for shelter, and for a second Taemin was carried away by a hoard of mass. It was when Minho grabbed him by the waist, bless his sportsman reflex, and pulled him closer.
"Hold on to me," Minho whispered into Taemin's ear, and he led them both to struggle against the stream of scattering people. "don't get lost..."
They reached a dry shelter of canopied terrace of a shop, but Minho did not let go. The arms that wrapped around Taemin's shoulder lingered, and it sent shivers to Taemin's skin that was totally unrelated to the cold weather. He felt a churn in his stomach, and despite the noises, sight and smell, his senses was numb for all but the heat that radiated from Minho's body. He closed his eyes, bracing himself; Minho's scent was of sweat, woody aftershave and clean cotton, and he found himself overwhelmed.
"Taemin..."
He heard Minho called and looked up; the older man's doe eyes grazed upon him. And it was purely instinctive when Taemin lifted up his chin and stood on the tip of his toes; he closed his eyes once again as their lips melted together into a kiss. Minho's lips was soft albeit slightly chapped, his mouth tasted like caramel and butter from the croissant and macchiato that he had earlier. Taemin found himself parting his mouth, pressing closer, needing more of Minho--
...and it was then when they felt a noticeable buzz from Taemin’s pocket. Taemin quickly pulled away, apologizing.
“I’m sorry, I--” he did not finished his sentence as the message took over his concentration.
Minho noticed how his expression darkened with something that could be understood as guilt; how he avoided Minho’s stare and subconsciously distanced himself by stepping away.
“What’s wrong?” Minho asked.
“I’m sorry...” Taemin shook his head as he apologized once more. “I can’t, I--I have to go...”
The statement was definite, putting an end to their interaction that evening. Taemin quickly turned around and, despite the rain, went away in quick steps.
What happened on the evening when they kissed had changed the dynamic between them. When Minho stepped into the diner the morning after, he had not anticipated that Taemin would not be there. Taemin had asked for a day off, the guy who tends the cash register said. That morning, Minho left quickly as soon as he finished his breakfast, without staying for a chat like he usually did. The day after, Taemin was still nowhere to be found. A girl who worked on the same shift and recognized Minho told him that Taemin had asked for a schedule change, and that she had no idea about Taemin's new schedule. Minho suspected that she actually knew, but refused to tell him due to Taemin's request. On the next several days, Minho had made a habit of dropping by at the diner at odd times, trying to see if Taemin was there. But still, his labour accounted to nothing.
After a week, Minho decided that he would wait for Taemin outside his class. Minho had gone through the effort of finding out Taemin's courses through his friends who worked part time at the administrative office, which brought him to stand in front of the Art History class first thing in the morning. He waited for almost an hour, not wanting to miss the boy if he happened to leave early, until he saw Taemin walked out of the teaching hall while chatting with a group of friend.
"Taemin," he called out.
The chatter that buzzed around the small group came to a halt, leaving Minho slightly embarrassed, but it paid off when Taemin recognized his presence. He said something to his friends, Minho noticed their acknowledgment, and they left him alone.
"How have you been?" Taemin asked casually.
"You don't seem to be surprised seeing me here." Minho raised his eyebrows, ignoring the question, "considering the effort you had pull to avoid me."
"With your persistence?" Taemin smiled, "I figure you would find me eventually."
Minho had actually prepared a situation where Taemin would try to escape him. That was why he couldn't help but feel relieved when he noticed that there was no tension in Taemin's voice.
"So...what's the deal with the disappearance act?" Minho asked directly. "I thought that I had come clean with my intention; you seemed to know about it and it did not appear as if you minded the least. But when we finally had some...progress--you just backed off and left."
What Taemin did next was sort of surprising; he stepped closer and brought his arms to circle around Minho's neck as he leaned closer to a kiss, but Minho did not pull away. If he had learn something about Taemin during the period they got to know each other it was that Taemin was impulsive, and the intimate gesture was one of his bouts of spontaneity. The kiss was innocent; soft, butterfly pecks on his lips that was supposed to be meant as some sort of assurance, and Taemin had pulled away a second later.
"I already told you, I have some kind of an unfinished issue." he said in a low voice. "Please try to understand, and wait if you would, although it probably comes out like asking too much from you--"
"No, I get it."Minho cut him mid-sentence. "I mean...hey, I've come this far right? I might as well wait some more time. It's just that--I need to know...if you would be there."
It took Taemin a few seconds, in which Minho learned that his expression was something of pensive, but in the end he smiled and leaned for another kiss.
"I will be there," Taemin whispered into Minho's mouth as soon as they broke off. And with that, he stepped away and turned around, leaving Minho speechless and curious.
On the night of Kibum’s musical stage, Minho deliberately arrived late to the event. He managed to reach his seat right around the time when the operator began to turn off the lighting over the audience’s area. Buzz of excitement filled the air, and looking around Minho recognized some familiar faces--Kibum’s dorm neighbors, his batch mates.
Checking his phone to make sure that he had turned it silent, Minho noticed that there were several messages. Opening one of the unread message, Minho found Kibum’s short ‘where are you’ flashed against the silver backlight. He deleted the message before stashing the phone back into his pocket.
The play was outstanding; Kibum’s hard work on single-handedly wrote, directed and starred the short musical version of the world-renowned opera play was paid off. Minho recognized the look of enchantment in the eyes of the audiences next to him, as they enjoyed the show. However, Minho found it hard to concentrate on the performance himself for a particular reason: The existence of both Taemin and Kibum on the same stage was too distracting. From scene to scene, Minho found himself unconsciously fisted his palm whenever he saw even the slightest contact of Taemin and Kibum; their shoulder brushed, they interacted in a scene. The view was too much, too blinding for Minho to take in.
When the performance ended, and everybody stood up to give Kibum the ovation he deserved, Minho remained still on his seat. It was then when the curtain drew close, and the audience left the venue for a short recess before the next performance, that Minho walked over the stage and left a bouquet of flower he brought for his lover.
Stuck on the transparent plastic wrapping was a purple note with a simple handwritten words of ‘Congratulation on your well-deserved reward’. The bouquet consisted of blooming stems of yellow roses, flower which Minho had conveniently learned to be the language of infidelity.
It had been few days since Minho confronted Taemin after the class, and he had not heard anything from the younger boy ever since. Minho was anxious, but he decided that he would deliver his promise to wait so all he did was obsessively checking out his cellphone from time to time. He still came to the diner at random time, usually after his routine practice with the varsity football team, but he restrained himself from coming in when he saw that Taemin was on duty.
During the time when Minho was waiting for contact from Taemin, he had spent some time with Kibum; the latter seemed to have more spare time after his graduation musical project was finished. They had dinner or spent the afternoon together at each other's dorm room. Talk, more talk, and sometimes dinner in silence--none of them attempted any kind of physical interaction, and none of them seemed to mind.
Throughout each of their meetings, Minho had deliberately paid more attention to the face of the man he loved--or used to love. Kibum was as beautiful as the first time Minho laid eyes on him; soft, fair skin, high cheekbone and all. But Minho could not help but notice the lack of spark in his straightly staring, cat-like eyes, or the usual smile that adorned his tiny, but perfectly curved pink lips. Gone had also his playfulness, his explosive bouts of emotions, and Minho could tell there was another reason than exhaustion which Kibum claimed. Somehow, Minho had his own guess regarding what the other reason was.
His suspicion was confirmed, when one morning he received a message from Taemin on his phone.
'I'm ready to talk', Taemin wrote him.
"I was involved with someone."
Taemin's blunt statement was pretty unsettling, especially when Minho had just settled on his seat, not yet had the chance to even put down his backpack. Taemin had requested to meet at the university library; choosing the abandoned rows of shelves at the ancient theology section, where nobody would likely to come except during exam period, for a place to meet.
"Excuse me?"
Taemin drew in a deep breath, his face solemn. "When I told you that I still have some unfinished business as the reason why I couldn't go out with you, I was actually involved with someone else."
"You mean..." Minho did not realize that he was holding his breath."you were in a relationship?"
"I don't know...sort of." Taemin said tentatively, "I mean, the person I was with--well, he already had a boyfriend. We never actually made it official. It just sort of happened, him and I, so I guess...yeah, I was in a relationship but not in the conventional sense."
"You know that the guy already have a boyfriend but you're still going out with him?"
Taemin shrugged, "Like I said, it just sort of happened. I didn't say that there wasn't any guilt. But he and I, we were bound together by mutual need. We found solace in each other's company."
"You could have told me." Minho said. "I wouldn't have bugged you around if I know that my chance is slim to none--"
"No, don't you get it?" Taemin said. "I couldn't do it, hyung. I couldn't resist you."
"What do you mean?" Minho frowned.
"What you did, you came on direct and honest. You have no hesitation about showing what you feel, and I couldn’t help but enjoy every second when I was with you. And then there’s my other relationship...”
Taemin paused for a moment, and Minho could tell that he was struggling.
”I know I’ve hurt someone--I realized as much. That’s why I don’t wanna do it anymore. That’s why I decided that if I’m going to do this--with you, I’m gonna do it right...”
Taemin shifted closer and pressed his palms on Minho’s broad chest. “I know this is probably too much, and I know that you probably want to change your mind as soon as you know. But I decided that I would come clean.”
The kiss came next, and this time Minho could no longer feel any hesitation in the way Taemin’s lips captured his. Minho leaned in as he sighed into the kiss, moving Taemin’s hands away from his chest and reduced the space between them until there were none. Around them were shelves of old and damp-smelling books, but all Minho knew was that Taemin's lips were overwhelmingly sweet, and Minho was lost within their softness. Like he couldn't have enough of it. Like he could survive solely by Taemin's kisses only.
But Minho wasn't lost enough to disregard the small statement that Taemin whispered into his mouth.
"I love you, Choi Minho...”
Minho couldn't actually recall how or why, but after he bid farewell to Taemin that afternoon, he found himself walking towards Kibum's dorm instead of his own. He absentmindedly knocked on the door for a while until he realized that it wasn't unlocked, then he allowed himself to go in.
"Kibum..."
Silence came following the lack of reply, and Minho ventured deeper. The room unusually dark--it was still a couple hours before sundown--Minho noticed that the curtains and blinds had all been shut. Kibum was a creature of habit, Minho remembered, and this was one of his antiques. His boyfriend seemed to have a sensitivity toward light, hence the blackout, whenever he had a hangover or after he spent the whole night awake and troubled.
Walking toward the opposite end of the room, Minho began to hear the small, stifled sobs. He noticed that the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar; a small nudge of Minhos fingertips opened it wider. Through the opening gap Minho saw Kibum crouched inside the bathtub; his skin had begun to shrivel and his lips blue. The stifled sobs that Minho heard earlier escaped from him, restrained solely by his self control.
“Kibum,” Minho came quickly to his side. “What happened? Look at you--you’re freezing! How long have you been here?”
“I--I’m fine, I just--need to take a bath...” Kibum managed to say.
Minho touched the water; it was cold. Kibum had probably been inside the water for a while. Minho quickly snatched the plug off, allowing the water to flow into the drain in a tiny spiral current. The next thing he did was wordlessly patting Kibum’s body dry with the towel he found at the usual cabinet above the sink, and carried him back into the room. The only response Kibum had shown throughout the process was how his sobs grew stronger.
It took another while for Minho to convince Kibum to put on some clothes he had recklessly pulled out of Kibum's wardrobe--the ensemble was not even remotely aesthetic, which Kibum would frown upon if only he was in his usual state, but neither of them could care less. A while later, as Kibum's sobs began to subside, over a cup of hot chocolate he had made, Minho carefully crafted his question.
"what's wrong, Kibum? Tell me?"
Kibum shook his head, his eyes adamantly stared at the dissolving steam over his cup of chocolate. "I just feel like nothing goes well in my life recently."
"I thought your graduation project finished brilliantly. Didn't you receive a positive review from the performance art periodical?"
"My study...my future career, yes. But life isn't all about achievement, is it? I mean...my co-star, my partner, he suddenly disappeared and--"
Minho couldn't have mistaken the tremble in Kibum's voice, as well as the deliberate pause he took when he spoke the carefully chosen word. He waited for Kibum to continue with his statement, but his boyfriend chose instead to switch the subject.
"...anyway, what about us, Minho?" That time, Kibum raised his stare to meet Minho's. "what have become of us?"
Minho frowned. "What do you mean?"
"In the last few occassions that we spent together, how come you didn't touch me even once? I know you probably thought that I was too tired, but I just wished that you would try."
"No, Kibum, don't start." Minho's voice tensed. "Don't try to make it about me."
"But it is! It's always about you, Minho. Everything that happened, from the day you walked into my life, it's all been about you!" The tears that were momentarily gone began to return to Kibum's eyes; clear droplets fell from the corner of his eyes. "Why did you stop loving me?"
"Kibum," Minho involuntarily raised his voice, "I never--"
"Then why, even after you've seen me in such mess, are you not trying to comfort me?” Kibum’s eyes were fiery, contrasting to his labored word and the streaming tears. “Why didn’t you take me in your arms like you used to do?”
Minho could not figure out an answer toward the question--accusation--for he had been asking himself why touching Kibum, his boyfriend, felt so wrong. All he did was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring outside through the narrow gap on the slightly opened window, and wondered himself where everything began to go wrong.
The fragrant smell of homemade cooking embraced Minho’s senses as soon as he stood in front of Taemin’s apartment. The smell intensified as he opened the door--taemin had developed a habit to keep the door open whenever Minho was coming--and walked into the tiny place. He navigated himself around; placing the grocery bag that contained mostly of beer and snacks on the low coffee table, before coming to the kitchen where Taemin could be found.
"Samgyetang? What a lovely surprise..." Minho sneaked behind the younger man and placed his hands on Taemin's tiny hips, kissing the expanse of his milky nape.
"Hyung--let go!" Taemin wriggled in Minho's capture, laughing merrily. "I might spill this on us."
Taemin gestured Minho to wait at the living room with a serious look on his face, and Minho could not help but following the order. He popped open a can of beer and idly shuffled through the pages of the football magazine he had in his bag, while occasionally glanced at Taemin's busy back. It took a while until the younger man turned off the stove, and carried the big stone bowl in his protected hands to the coffee table.
"Why samgyetang so suddenly?" Minho asked, his eyes carefully thread over the younger boy's delicate facial outline.
"Well..." Taemin's voice trailed off, too busy cutting the young chicken inside the stone bowl into smaller pieces. "It's summer already. And you seemed so tired whenever I got to see you recently. So I figured, with the heatwave and the football practice, samgyetang might be good for you."
Minho felt a tiny but sharp twinge in his chest, the gesture of Taemin's sincerity felt like a pricking thorn for his conscience. Ever since they got together, it seemed like Taemin kept no reservation. Everyday, he came with his usual toothy smile--warm and embracing, and honest stare. At first Minho thought he knew the person he was dealing with. He couldn't be more wrong, apparently, for Taemin was someone altogether different.
'I had gone through a relationship where everything was about self control and discretion. It wasn't exactly wrong, given the circumstances. But right now, with you, I'm not going to hold myself back.' Taemin paused and landed a peck on Minho's cheek, the corner of his lips curved up in a smile. 'Consider yourself warned, hyung.'
Taemin's affection was like an endless stream of mountain water that ran along Minho's creek. He had tried, God knows he did, not to get used to the comfort. It was, however, impossible. Minho couldn't help but admit, how he was slowly carried away by its current.
On that summer, together they celebrated Taemin's coming of age. Minho brought along with him, as he visited Taemin's place, a bottle of cheap red wine. They finished the bottle in no time, and found out that it wasn't even remotely enough, then together they hunted more alcohol at nearby liquor store.
A couple of hours, half a dozen bottles of soju and many kisses later, Minho found himself pinning a very naked, slightly drunk Taemin on the bed. The boy's soft, brown hair fell contrast upon the pale green bedding; silky strands that caught the reflection of light. Taemin's fingers traced the contour of Minho's abs; eyes half closed, his lips parted invitingly. His skin was like a canvas, an expanse of white; the red flush on his cheek slowly crept down to his neck and chest.
There was something different in Taemin's eyes, something that he had not shown before. Minho watched how the spark slowly subsided as his pupil dilated, his eyes grew darker and deeper. Gone had the teenager Minho knew. Taemin had transformed into a creature made of pure and raw sensuality. His touches was confident, feathery strokes and gentle pressures that drew illicit moan from Minho's mouth. The younger one easily managed for them to exchange position, Taemin was now hovering above Minho. His gaze followed the path made by his fingertips that traveled along the chest, down to Minho's taut belly, before the fingers took a firm grasp around Minho's erection.
"God--Taemin..." Minho threw his head back as Taemin nuzzled at the base of his cock, licking his way up to the tip, before his warm mouth closed over the head.
Taemin was direct; he did not tease, not even hesitated, and he aimed to please. He took almost the whole length of Minho's cock into his mouth, and worked his fingers with the part that remained untouched by his lips. He did not resisted when Minho's fingers grabbed a mass of hair at the back of his head, not even flinched when Minho began to push deeper into his mouth.
Taemin only stopped when Minho told him that he was going to come, his eyes was teary and lips swollen then, and said that he wanted Minho to come inside of him. Minho couldn't help but wonder where he gained his confidence, his skill, and it was when the image of Kibum flashed inside his mind.
Once again they shifted position--Minho almost too eager to have Taemin lied on his stomach, earning a questioning look from the younger man even though in the end he still complied. The thought spread like cancer, rapid and effective, and Minho wasn’t sure if he could do it while staring into Taemin's face. He began to think if Taemin had treated Kibum the same way, if the feeling Minho experienced was once belong to his.
As he rocked himself back and forth, moving in and out of Taemin's body, Minho couldn't help but wondering if there would ever be something--emotion, expression, or sensation--that had not been claimed by Kibum, that belonged to him and Taemin only.
It was the first of September, which marked the arrival of Autumn, when Kibum dropped by at Minho's dorm and shared the news that he received a dance fellowship at The Julliard School. The program might open Kibum's opportunity to get into Broadway, something he had always dreamed. He also said that he should leave shortly after Chuseok holiday, which was less than a month away.
None of them attempted to open a discussion regarding their relationship, not even when they spent fifteen minutes in awkward silent before Kibum finally left.
It hadn't been a week since the announcement, when Minho discovered Kibum's attempts to contact Taemin. That afternoon he had been asleep after the sex they just had, when the gentle buzz of Taemin's phone woke him up. Taemin's side of bed was empty, and judging from the dull noise of running water, Minho assumed that he was in the shower. Minho reluctantly stirred and reached out for the phone, intending to hand it over to his lover.
It was then that Minho read the name on the led display, 'Key'.
His first reaction was to drop the phone as if it was a scorching coal that burned his hand. The device fell back onto the bed with a soft thumping sound, still vibrated for another few seconds until Kibum gave up and disconnected. Minho stared at the phone, his hand reached out tentatively. The small device buzzed once again in his hand, only shorter that time, together with the appearance of incoming mail notification.
Minho did not waste any time to think. Against his better judgment, he keyed open Taemin’s phone--feeling thankful that the younger man unbothered to put on password--and access the inbox. He could deal with the guilt of prying into Taemin’s business later.
’This is probably going to be the last time I’m going to try contacting you. I’m leaving the country soon, whether with or without a closure. However, I deserve at least a chance to meet, and have you explained to me directly about why you suddenly pushed me away. Please, I’m begging you.’
Minho wondered what kind of expression Kibum had when he typed the message. Was he crying? Was he upset or desperate? The next second, though, Minho found himself typing a reply to Kibum’s mail.
’You’re right. I wasn’t being fair to you. Come to my place around this time tomorrow. I will be waiting.
Another message from Kibum arrived, with a simple ’Thank you in it
Minho managed to delete the call record, as well as the messages in both the phone’s inbox and outbox, before Taemin came into the room. Only his lower body was wrapped in thick cotton towel, and he smiled upon seeing that Minho was awake.
“You’re awake, hyung?”
Minho nodded, “You have a part time schedule this afternoon?”
“Yeah, my friend called sick and asked me to cover his shift.” He smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re free tomorrow, right? Can I come by sometime after lunch?”
“Sure! Are you gonna stay until dinner?”
Minho smiled at the younger man, ruffling his damp hair and said, “Let’s see about that.”
Giddiness was what Minho felt as he walked along the path from the train station to Taemin’s apartment the next day. He stopped by at odd places several times, trying to calm his heartbeat, before finally reached the building. Taemin answered the door as soon as Minho knocked, his usual welcoming smile was there for Minho to see.
“Hey, hyung! You’re quick! Have you had lunch?”
Minho shook his head, “Food can wait...” He lowered his head for a kiss.
Taemin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “This is definitely a pleasant surprise.”
“You have no idea. I wanna make love to you right now.” Minho smirked. Taking Taemin’s hand, he led them to the bed. “Come on!”
“Whoa!” Taemin exclaimed as Minho gently pushed him to lie on his back. “You’re serious!”
“Of course I am...” Minho lazily replied, his hand toyed with the buttons of Taemin’s shirt before undid them one by one. “The only thing I want to do this afternoon is fucking you. You don’t want it?”
“No, I want it!” Taemin quickly replied, and felt embarrassed for being slightly too enthusiastic. He repeated his statement, his tone calmer as his hand gently cupped Minho’s cheek, drawing it closer for a kiss. “I really, really want it...”
It was nothing like the sex they ever had before. First, Minho had stripped Taemin naked, before he began his exploration on the younger man’s body. He took his time, generously showered the flawless skin with kisses, while his hand ever so slowly jerked Taemin’s length. Minho removed his grip around Taemin’s cock when he noticed that the younger man’s body began to tense.
“Don’t come just yet, not before I fuck you.”
Taemin bit his lips in anticipation, and squirmed as Minho's lubricant-coated fingers began to circle and tease his opening. He instinctively spread his legs wider, his own hands secured the limbs at the back of the knees, providing more access. Minho’s eyes darkened upon witnessing Taemin’s shamelessness, the lack of hesitation from the younger boy somehow stirred up the beast inside of him. Slowly, his finger pushed into Taemin knuckle deep, before he pulled it out again and pushed back in repeatedly.
Below him, Taemin began to trash around. Thin layer of sweat formed on the younger man’s forehead. Minho added the second finger then, and continued to finger fucked Taemin. He smiled upon hearing the younger man’s small, suppressed moans; his teeth bared and incidentally brushed against Taemin’s nipple.
“Don’t hold yourself back Taemin,” He said, “I like to hear you out...”
“Please hyung, please...” Taemin said breathlessly. “Take me...”
The familiar view of the hallway that led to Taemin’s apartment welcomed Kibum, and for a second he closed his eyes upon the painful sensation of his constricting chest. It used to be a place that he frequented, the place where he found solace from the loneliness of having Minho prioritized football over him. And yet, as Kibum walked along the narrow corridor, the old wooden floor beneath his feet creaked with every step he made, he got to realize that the familiarity was no longer there. To him, it was just another foreign place he happened to be.
Finding Taemin’s apartment, Kibum raised his hand tentatively before turning the doorknob open, knowing that Taemin never put the lock during day. The anxiety attacked him as soon as he stepped into the flat, noticing the unfamiliar scent in the air, how the place no longer had evidences of his presence. For a moment, Kibum found himself holding back his tears.
"Taemin, I'm here." He called. No reply came, and instead he heard noises from the direction of Taemin's bedroom.
A sudden feeling of uneasiness hit Kibum. A major part of his intuition told him to turn his back around and leave, for something was definitely wrong. However, he had came with a purpose. The persistent need to find out about the reason of Taemin's sudden change of heart had won over his intuition. Bracing himself, he pushed the door that led toward the bedroom.
The shock came sudden, strong, as soon as Kibum saw what was revealed by the opened door.
"Taemin..." Minho said in between his labored breath. "What would you do if your ex happens to be here, seeing us like this..."
"What the hell, hyung--" Taemin whined, eyes shut as his legs drew Minho's hip closer. "Stop saying such thing..."
"Amuse me." Minho pressed, stressing on by stopping his movement while his cock was deeply buried inside Taemin’s body. “Come on...”
Taemin tried to budge his hips to get some release. However, Minho‘s weight that pinned him down was no match for Taemin’s strength, especially when he was so close to the orgasm that Minho denied him from. Desperate tears escaped from the corner of his closed eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck, hyung. He could watch for all I care. Just...don’t stop fucking me.” Taemin pleaded. “Please hyung, I’m so close. Fuck me...”
Minho seemed to find his answer satisfactory, for the next second he slowly pulled out and back to rocking his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.
“By the way, Taemin...” Minho whispered. His hand caressed Taemin’s cheek, before nudging the boy to look at the direction of the door.
“Meet my boyfriend, Kim Kibum...”
It didn’t take long until Taemin came--despite the state they were in, his body couldn’t apparently deny its biology--and Minho followed shortly later. The older man came hard all over Taemin’s belly and chest, and pulled himself away from Taemin to put his clothes back on. Taemin felt cold and exposed, and he knew he should do something to cover his nakedness.
He was, however, unable to move due to the shock. His eyes drifted from Kibum to Minho, to the empty ceiling above his head. And it was when he realized, as his mind slowly putting together the pieces, just what kind of set up he was in.
Kibum could not comprehend the complexity of the view before his eyes. It all seemed impossible; Minho and Taemin together. It was as if he was thrown into a hardboiled B-rated movies, with sick plot consisted of lies and deceit.
However, if there were lies and deceit, then they were partly his. Upon the realization, Kibum’s eyes grew hot. The tears he had managed to hold back so far finally fell.
Minho had finished putting on his clothes, and was tying his shoelaces. He had done it; the payback. He had played it even. The expression he saw on both Taemin’s and Key’s face was the trophy of his victory. However, he couldn’t get rid off the tiny speck of guilt that lingered at the corner of his conscience. Not even when he walked past Kibum, their shoulder brushed, and with his cold voice he whispered close in his lover’s ear.
“My farewell gift to you...”
...not even when he was closing the door of the bedroom, and saw for the last time, the two men who had been his life and his death.
fin...
* La Traviata: An opera piece written by Giuseppe Verdi (1952). From Wikipedia, “The title La traviata means literally The Fallen Woman, or perhaps more figuratively, The Woman Who Strayed.”, It is based on La Dame Aux Camellias (1852), a play adapted from the novel by Alexandre Dumas.
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Absolution
Pairing: (Minho/Taemin, Taemin/Key, Minho/Key)
Rating: NC-17
Authors’ Notes: Dear Colorfulgrey, I might need to ask for your forgiveness for the extra pairing, but it was necessary for the plot I crafted. I hope I’m not spoiling your enjoyment.
ab·so·lu·tion noun \ˌab-sə-ˈlü-shən\
: the act of absolving; specifically : a remission of sins pronounced by a priest (as in the sacrament of reconciliation)
If someone else were to come and tell him about the fact, Minho wouldn’t have believed that Kibum could ever be unfaithful. Of course, Minho could never dismiss the fact that things had been shaky between them during the last few months. They had been busy as their graduation was coming, with so many projects along the way. Still, Minho had never considered Kibum to be someone that could commit to such a thing as infidelity.
However, he had seen the evidence of it with his own eyes. Embraced by the darkness of the university’s auditorium where Kibum’s theater team were supposed to be having rehearsals, Minho witnessed how Kibum had taken someone else into his arms, embraced him the way he did Minho--once upon a time; his fiery eyes stared at the man in undisclosed passion, before they fluttered close as his and the stranger’s lips melted into a heated kiss. Their hands roamed, unhesitant as they undid each others’ clothes; Kibum’s suppressed moan echoed, his back arched, fingers buried deep into the tangle of the stranger’s hair whose mouth began to travel the expanse of his chest, down to his belly.
“Take me already...”
Minho had heard Kibum panted, the tone of his voice was eerily familiar. He had heard the expression for so many times, but never during the beginning of their sexual relationship--Kibum was too reclusive and proud then. The lack of reluctance and restrains were the cue that told him it wasn’t the first time Kibum and the stranger had done it. It was also when Minho knew that he had seen enough, that the damage had been done, and that there was nothing he could do to reverse both the knowledge and the fact.
Back in his dorm, Minho abandoned the duffel bag as his endurance came to an end. His chest was constricted, pressed by turmoil of desperation and rage. Falling on his hands and knees on the hardwood floor, Minho allowed himself a moment of weakness as he broke down into a crying mess.
Minho stared at the face of the man--boy--who delivered his breakfast, young and innocent-looking he was, and doubted the fact that it was indeed the very same person he saw kissing Kibum the other day. He couldn’t possibly be a day older than 20, Minho had thought as he slowly sipped his coffee, with his still undefined facial feature, childish grin and all.
Lee Taemin, his name tag read.
Of course, Minho could not deny the charm the boy had. Throughout his breakfast he had adamantly stared at Lee Taemin, watching his every move. Tall and lean, he had a beautiful face that was delicately framed by tousled reddish locks. The way he laughed to the customer was like infectious mirth, drawing smiles from those who heard and saw. And by the time he finished the croissant, coincidentally one of the best he had ever tasted, Minho had gotten to doubt his own judgment.
What if I was wrong? What if I made a mistake and it turns out that he wasn’t the one?
But he was right, afterall. He had gone through length to discover the stranger's true identity. There was no way that Minho could have made a mistake in identifying the tiny hand that he saw resting on Kibum’s chest and nape, the full lips that he saw engulfing Kibum’s, or the exact brown shade of the hair which Kibum had grasped passionately. It was indeed the boy--the one Kibum seeing behind his back, the other party of Kibum’s infidelity which he himself witnessed.
By the time Minho finished his breakfast, his determination had returned. He waved to the boy--Lee Taemin--and asked for his bill, while casually throwing in some compliment on the croissant. Minho saw Lee Taemin’s eyes flickered with glee, toothy smile bloomed on his face.
“It’s our pleasure! We hope to serve you again sometime soon.” He said.
Be careful of what you wish for...
Minho had smiled back, “Most definitely.”
He had then made a habit of making appearances at the diner where Lee Taemin worked. Through the hours he spent sitting on a bench at nearby park, watching as Lee Taemin arrived and left on his old bike, he was able to map the boy’s shift throughout the week. Minho conveniently created a series of coincidences, appearing in the middle of Taemin’s shift, causing the boy to notice him with his frequent visits.
On the third Saturday since his initial appearance in the coffee shop, Minho finally harvested the fruit of his labor. As usual, Taemin was the one who attended Minho’s corner table. Only that time, he did not just pick and deliver Minho’s order with his usual smile. Instead he lingered, eyes flickered with curiosity as he watched Minho spread some butter over his warm croissant.
“You sure come here often...” He said.
Minho looked up from his meal and raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t it supposed to be a good thing? I told you I found the croissant remarkably delicious.” So far, he had not lied.
“Of course,” Taemin smiled in embarrassment. “I just find it strange how you suddenly appeared one day, and become a regular in no time.”
“Well...” Minho stretched his body, preparing to tell his first lie. “I recently started working part time somewhere nearby, and I haven’t found any other joint I consider better in the vicinity.”
Taemin hesitated for a second, before he spoke again. “I...I notice that you have been staring at me from time to time.”
“Hmm...” Minho smiled in amusement as he watched the boy’s face grew red. “Maybe I am? What do you make of it?”
Before Taemin managed to reply, there was a sound of chime from the kitchen. It was a call for him, an order was ready to be delivered.
“I--I have to go.” He smiled awkwardly and scurried away. But the blush on his face was evident enough for Minho to see.
Saved by the bell, Minho thought. How lucky you are, really
“Where were you these last few days?”
Kibum’s question greeted Minho as soon as he arrived back at his dorm, still in his damp varsity jersey. He had just finished the afternoon training session with the football team. Minho dropped his duffel bag on the floor, took several big gulps from his water bottle before replying.
“Out at the field. The season’s determining matches are coming soon and a lot of scouts are coming. I have to be there if I want to be discovered.”
“You didn’t even turn on your phone.”
“I forgot to charge it somehow.” Minho lied down on his bed, at the opposite end from where Kibum sat. “I have so many things in my mind that I keep forgetting things.”
“Well, I just hope that you will not forget my graduation stage.” Kibum sighed heavily.
Minho raised his head “It’s been scheduled?”
Kibum nodded, pointing at the envelope he had placed earlier on Minho's bedside drawer. “You will find the detail in the invitation. There’s also a backstage pass."
"Backstage pass? Wil I need it?" Minho's hand reached out and took the envelope in his hands.
"No," Kibum shook his head. "I will need you there."
Minho looked up into Kibum's eyes and, beyond the straight stare, saw the lurking anxiety. He, however, chose to ignore it, and toying with the envelope in his hand instead. He read neat, classic print emblazoned in gold ink and raised his eyebrows.
“La Traviata?”
Kibum nodded, “Yeah. Haven’t I told you? My project is adapting the Opera’s piece into musical stage.”
“I must have forgot it...” Minho words trailed off as his mind was occupied by otherwise thought. ’how appropriate...’*
Things had not happened quickly, but after the encounter Taemin had somehow gradually opened up. Minho felt the slightly different treatment Taemin gave him during the visit--subtle, but it was there. First, he began to call Minho by name; had asked for it few days after their conversation.
“If you’re gonna be one of the regulars, I think it’s proper if I call you by name. Besides, it’s just fair--I assume you’ve known mine.”
Minho also noticed how the number of accompanying cookies that came with his coffee multiplied, and how Taemin deliberately added extra blocks of butter--knowing that Minho took no other condiment with his croissant. Slowly, the thing between them developed itself into friendship, in which Minho began to sit at the bar instead of corner table, whereas Taemin would come over and chat up with him whenever he was not working.
It was like a chain reaction, then, things between them; Minho began to wait for Taemin’s shift to end, they would walk together and talk along the way to the station where Taemin would take his train back home. After the first few walks, Taemin started to agree stopping by at the park and eating the food they bought at the foodcart. Later, he would allow Minho to pay for his coffee or food, and one time, to walk him home. He had not, however, consented to Minho’s invitation for a dinner outside the walk to the station, or even stopping by at the movies after work.
Minho had asked why, and Taemin’s answer was “I still have some sort of unfinished business which is stopping me from coming.”
To the ambiguous answer, Minho had kept silent. Taemin did not explain, and Minho did not ask further. The latter, however, had his own guesses.
It was an evening at the end of spring where the sky was dark and raining cats and dog, around the fifteenth week since Minho first came to the coffee shop, when they first kissed. Droplets had begun to fall even before they left the coffee shop for their usual walk to the train station. However, no one could have expected the swiftly-coming thunder cloud and the amount of rain it brought. It was chaotic, how people on the busy street frantically ran for shelter, and for a second Taemin was carried away by a hoard of mass. It was when Minho grabbed him by the waist, bless his sportsman reflex, and pulled him closer.
"Hold on to me," Minho whispered into Taemin's ear, and he led them both to struggle against the stream of scattering people. "don't get lost..."
They reached a dry shelter of canopied terrace of a shop, but Minho did not let go. The arms that wrapped around Taemin's shoulder lingered, and it sent shivers to Taemin's skin that was totally unrelated to the cold weather. He felt a churn in his stomach, and despite the noises, sight and smell, his senses was numb for all but the heat that radiated from Minho's body. He closed his eyes, bracing himself; Minho's scent was of sweat, woody aftershave and clean cotton, and he found himself overwhelmed.
"Taemin..."
He heard Minho called and looked up; the older man's doe eyes grazed upon him. And it was purely instinctive when Taemin lifted up his chin and stood on the tip of his toes; he closed his eyes once again as their lips melted together into a kiss. Minho's lips was soft albeit slightly chapped, his mouth tasted like caramel and butter from the croissant and macchiato that he had earlier. Taemin found himself parting his mouth, pressing closer, needing more of Minho--
...and it was then when they felt a noticeable buzz from Taemin’s pocket. Taemin quickly pulled away, apologizing.
“I’m sorry, I--” he did not finished his sentence as the message took over his concentration.
Minho noticed how his expression darkened with something that could be understood as guilt; how he avoided Minho’s stare and subconsciously distanced himself by stepping away.
“What’s wrong?” Minho asked.
“I’m sorry...” Taemin shook his head as he apologized once more. “I can’t, I--I have to go...”
The statement was definite, putting an end to their interaction that evening. Taemin quickly turned around and, despite the rain, went away in quick steps.
What happened on the evening when they kissed had changed the dynamic between them. When Minho stepped into the diner the morning after, he had not anticipated that Taemin would not be there. Taemin had asked for a day off, the guy who tends the cash register said. That morning, Minho left quickly as soon as he finished his breakfast, without staying for a chat like he usually did. The day after, Taemin was still nowhere to be found. A girl who worked on the same shift and recognized Minho told him that Taemin had asked for a schedule change, and that she had no idea about Taemin's new schedule. Minho suspected that she actually knew, but refused to tell him due to Taemin's request. On the next several days, Minho had made a habit of dropping by at the diner at odd times, trying to see if Taemin was there. But still, his labour accounted to nothing.
After a week, Minho decided that he would wait for Taemin outside his class. Minho had gone through the effort of finding out Taemin's courses through his friends who worked part time at the administrative office, which brought him to stand in front of the Art History class first thing in the morning. He waited for almost an hour, not wanting to miss the boy if he happened to leave early, until he saw Taemin walked out of the teaching hall while chatting with a group of friend.
"Taemin," he called out.
The chatter that buzzed around the small group came to a halt, leaving Minho slightly embarrassed, but it paid off when Taemin recognized his presence. He said something to his friends, Minho noticed their acknowledgment, and they left him alone.
"How have you been?" Taemin asked casually.
"You don't seem to be surprised seeing me here." Minho raised his eyebrows, ignoring the question, "considering the effort you had pull to avoid me."
"With your persistence?" Taemin smiled, "I figure you would find me eventually."
Minho had actually prepared a situation where Taemin would try to escape him. That was why he couldn't help but feel relieved when he noticed that there was no tension in Taemin's voice.
"So...what's the deal with the disappearance act?" Minho asked directly. "I thought that I had come clean with my intention; you seemed to know about it and it did not appear as if you minded the least. But when we finally had some...progress--you just backed off and left."
What Taemin did next was sort of surprising; he stepped closer and brought his arms to circle around Minho's neck as he leaned closer to a kiss, but Minho did not pull away. If he had learn something about Taemin during the period they got to know each other it was that Taemin was impulsive, and the intimate gesture was one of his bouts of spontaneity. The kiss was innocent; soft, butterfly pecks on his lips that was supposed to be meant as some sort of assurance, and Taemin had pulled away a second later.
"I already told you, I have some kind of an unfinished issue." he said in a low voice. "Please try to understand, and wait if you would, although it probably comes out like asking too much from you--"
"No, I get it."Minho cut him mid-sentence. "I mean...hey, I've come this far right? I might as well wait some more time. It's just that--I need to know...if you would be there."
It took Taemin a few seconds, in which Minho learned that his expression was something of pensive, but in the end he smiled and leaned for another kiss.
"I will be there," Taemin whispered into Minho's mouth as soon as they broke off. And with that, he stepped away and turned around, leaving Minho speechless and curious.
On the night of Kibum’s musical stage, Minho deliberately arrived late to the event. He managed to reach his seat right around the time when the operator began to turn off the lighting over the audience’s area. Buzz of excitement filled the air, and looking around Minho recognized some familiar faces--Kibum’s dorm neighbors, his batch mates.
Checking his phone to make sure that he had turned it silent, Minho noticed that there were several messages. Opening one of the unread message, Minho found Kibum’s short ‘where are you’ flashed against the silver backlight. He deleted the message before stashing the phone back into his pocket.
The play was outstanding; Kibum’s hard work on single-handedly wrote, directed and starred the short musical version of the world-renowned opera play was paid off. Minho recognized the look of enchantment in the eyes of the audiences next to him, as they enjoyed the show. However, Minho found it hard to concentrate on the performance himself for a particular reason: The existence of both Taemin and Kibum on the same stage was too distracting. From scene to scene, Minho found himself unconsciously fisted his palm whenever he saw even the slightest contact of Taemin and Kibum; their shoulder brushed, they interacted in a scene. The view was too much, too blinding for Minho to take in.
When the performance ended, and everybody stood up to give Kibum the ovation he deserved, Minho remained still on his seat. It was then when the curtain drew close, and the audience left the venue for a short recess before the next performance, that Minho walked over the stage and left a bouquet of flower he brought for his lover.
Stuck on the transparent plastic wrapping was a purple note with a simple handwritten words of ‘Congratulation on your well-deserved reward’. The bouquet consisted of blooming stems of yellow roses, flower which Minho had conveniently learned to be the language of infidelity.
It had been few days since Minho confronted Taemin after the class, and he had not heard anything from the younger boy ever since. Minho was anxious, but he decided that he would deliver his promise to wait so all he did was obsessively checking out his cellphone from time to time. He still came to the diner at random time, usually after his routine practice with the varsity football team, but he restrained himself from coming in when he saw that Taemin was on duty.
During the time when Minho was waiting for contact from Taemin, he had spent some time with Kibum; the latter seemed to have more spare time after his graduation musical project was finished. They had dinner or spent the afternoon together at each other's dorm room. Talk, more talk, and sometimes dinner in silence--none of them attempted any kind of physical interaction, and none of them seemed to mind.
Throughout each of their meetings, Minho had deliberately paid more attention to the face of the man he loved--or used to love. Kibum was as beautiful as the first time Minho laid eyes on him; soft, fair skin, high cheekbone and all. But Minho could not help but notice the lack of spark in his straightly staring, cat-like eyes, or the usual smile that adorned his tiny, but perfectly curved pink lips. Gone had also his playfulness, his explosive bouts of emotions, and Minho could tell there was another reason than exhaustion which Kibum claimed. Somehow, Minho had his own guess regarding what the other reason was.
His suspicion was confirmed, when one morning he received a message from Taemin on his phone.
'I'm ready to talk', Taemin wrote him.
"I was involved with someone."
Taemin's blunt statement was pretty unsettling, especially when Minho had just settled on his seat, not yet had the chance to even put down his backpack. Taemin had requested to meet at the university library; choosing the abandoned rows of shelves at the ancient theology section, where nobody would likely to come except during exam period, for a place to meet.
"Excuse me?"
Taemin drew in a deep breath, his face solemn. "When I told you that I still have some unfinished business as the reason why I couldn't go out with you, I was actually involved with someone else."
"You mean..." Minho did not realize that he was holding his breath."you were in a relationship?"
"I don't know...sort of." Taemin said tentatively, "I mean, the person I was with--well, he already had a boyfriend. We never actually made it official. It just sort of happened, him and I, so I guess...yeah, I was in a relationship but not in the conventional sense."
"You know that the guy already have a boyfriend but you're still going out with him?"
Taemin shrugged, "Like I said, it just sort of happened. I didn't say that there wasn't any guilt. But he and I, we were bound together by mutual need. We found solace in each other's company."
"You could have told me." Minho said. "I wouldn't have bugged you around if I know that my chance is slim to none--"
"No, don't you get it?" Taemin said. "I couldn't do it, hyung. I couldn't resist you."
"What do you mean?" Minho frowned.
"What you did, you came on direct and honest. You have no hesitation about showing what you feel, and I couldn’t help but enjoy every second when I was with you. And then there’s my other relationship...”
Taemin paused for a moment, and Minho could tell that he was struggling.
”I know I’ve hurt someone--I realized as much. That’s why I don’t wanna do it anymore. That’s why I decided that if I’m going to do this--with you, I’m gonna do it right...”
Taemin shifted closer and pressed his palms on Minho’s broad chest. “I know this is probably too much, and I know that you probably want to change your mind as soon as you know. But I decided that I would come clean.”
The kiss came next, and this time Minho could no longer feel any hesitation in the way Taemin’s lips captured his. Minho leaned in as he sighed into the kiss, moving Taemin’s hands away from his chest and reduced the space between them until there were none. Around them were shelves of old and damp-smelling books, but all Minho knew was that Taemin's lips were overwhelmingly sweet, and Minho was lost within their softness. Like he couldn't have enough of it. Like he could survive solely by Taemin's kisses only.
But Minho wasn't lost enough to disregard the small statement that Taemin whispered into his mouth.
"I love you, Choi Minho...”
Minho couldn't actually recall how or why, but after he bid farewell to Taemin that afternoon, he found himself walking towards Kibum's dorm instead of his own. He absentmindedly knocked on the door for a while until he realized that it wasn't unlocked, then he allowed himself to go in.
"Kibum..."
Silence came following the lack of reply, and Minho ventured deeper. The room unusually dark--it was still a couple hours before sundown--Minho noticed that the curtains and blinds had all been shut. Kibum was a creature of habit, Minho remembered, and this was one of his antiques. His boyfriend seemed to have a sensitivity toward light, hence the blackout, whenever he had a hangover or after he spent the whole night awake and troubled.
Walking toward the opposite end of the room, Minho began to hear the small, stifled sobs. He noticed that the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar; a small nudge of Minhos fingertips opened it wider. Through the opening gap Minho saw Kibum crouched inside the bathtub; his skin had begun to shrivel and his lips blue. The stifled sobs that Minho heard earlier escaped from him, restrained solely by his self control.
“Kibum,” Minho came quickly to his side. “What happened? Look at you--you’re freezing! How long have you been here?”
“I--I’m fine, I just--need to take a bath...” Kibum managed to say.
Minho touched the water; it was cold. Kibum had probably been inside the water for a while. Minho quickly snatched the plug off, allowing the water to flow into the drain in a tiny spiral current. The next thing he did was wordlessly patting Kibum’s body dry with the towel he found at the usual cabinet above the sink, and carried him back into the room. The only response Kibum had shown throughout the process was how his sobs grew stronger.
It took another while for Minho to convince Kibum to put on some clothes he had recklessly pulled out of Kibum's wardrobe--the ensemble was not even remotely aesthetic, which Kibum would frown upon if only he was in his usual state, but neither of them could care less. A while later, as Kibum's sobs began to subside, over a cup of hot chocolate he had made, Minho carefully crafted his question.
"what's wrong, Kibum? Tell me?"
Kibum shook his head, his eyes adamantly stared at the dissolving steam over his cup of chocolate. "I just feel like nothing goes well in my life recently."
"I thought your graduation project finished brilliantly. Didn't you receive a positive review from the performance art periodical?"
"My study...my future career, yes. But life isn't all about achievement, is it? I mean...my co-star, my partner, he suddenly disappeared and--"
Minho couldn't have mistaken the tremble in Kibum's voice, as well as the deliberate pause he took when he spoke the carefully chosen word. He waited for Kibum to continue with his statement, but his boyfriend chose instead to switch the subject.
"...anyway, what about us, Minho?" That time, Kibum raised his stare to meet Minho's. "what have become of us?"
Minho frowned. "What do you mean?"
"In the last few occassions that we spent together, how come you didn't touch me even once? I know you probably thought that I was too tired, but I just wished that you would try."
"No, Kibum, don't start." Minho's voice tensed. "Don't try to make it about me."
"But it is! It's always about you, Minho. Everything that happened, from the day you walked into my life, it's all been about you!" The tears that were momentarily gone began to return to Kibum's eyes; clear droplets fell from the corner of his eyes. "Why did you stop loving me?"
"Kibum," Minho involuntarily raised his voice, "I never--"
"Then why, even after you've seen me in such mess, are you not trying to comfort me?” Kibum’s eyes were fiery, contrasting to his labored word and the streaming tears. “Why didn’t you take me in your arms like you used to do?”
Minho could not figure out an answer toward the question--accusation--for he had been asking himself why touching Kibum, his boyfriend, felt so wrong. All he did was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring outside through the narrow gap on the slightly opened window, and wondered himself where everything began to go wrong.
The fragrant smell of homemade cooking embraced Minho’s senses as soon as he stood in front of Taemin’s apartment. The smell intensified as he opened the door--taemin had developed a habit to keep the door open whenever Minho was coming--and walked into the tiny place. He navigated himself around; placing the grocery bag that contained mostly of beer and snacks on the low coffee table, before coming to the kitchen where Taemin could be found.
"Samgyetang? What a lovely surprise..." Minho sneaked behind the younger man and placed his hands on Taemin's tiny hips, kissing the expanse of his milky nape.
"Hyung--let go!" Taemin wriggled in Minho's capture, laughing merrily. "I might spill this on us."
Taemin gestured Minho to wait at the living room with a serious look on his face, and Minho could not help but following the order. He popped open a can of beer and idly shuffled through the pages of the football magazine he had in his bag, while occasionally glanced at Taemin's busy back. It took a while until the younger man turned off the stove, and carried the big stone bowl in his protected hands to the coffee table.
"Why samgyetang so suddenly?" Minho asked, his eyes carefully thread over the younger boy's delicate facial outline.
"Well..." Taemin's voice trailed off, too busy cutting the young chicken inside the stone bowl into smaller pieces. "It's summer already. And you seemed so tired whenever I got to see you recently. So I figured, with the heatwave and the football practice, samgyetang might be good for you."
Minho felt a tiny but sharp twinge in his chest, the gesture of Taemin's sincerity felt like a pricking thorn for his conscience. Ever since they got together, it seemed like Taemin kept no reservation. Everyday, he came with his usual toothy smile--warm and embracing, and honest stare. At first Minho thought he knew the person he was dealing with. He couldn't be more wrong, apparently, for Taemin was someone altogether different.
'I had gone through a relationship where everything was about self control and discretion. It wasn't exactly wrong, given the circumstances. But right now, with you, I'm not going to hold myself back.' Taemin paused and landed a peck on Minho's cheek, the corner of his lips curved up in a smile. 'Consider yourself warned, hyung.'
Taemin's affection was like an endless stream of mountain water that ran along Minho's creek. He had tried, God knows he did, not to get used to the comfort. It was, however, impossible. Minho couldn't help but admit, how he was slowly carried away by its current.
On that summer, together they celebrated Taemin's coming of age. Minho brought along with him, as he visited Taemin's place, a bottle of cheap red wine. They finished the bottle in no time, and found out that it wasn't even remotely enough, then together they hunted more alcohol at nearby liquor store.
A couple of hours, half a dozen bottles of soju and many kisses later, Minho found himself pinning a very naked, slightly drunk Taemin on the bed. The boy's soft, brown hair fell contrast upon the pale green bedding; silky strands that caught the reflection of light. Taemin's fingers traced the contour of Minho's abs; eyes half closed, his lips parted invitingly. His skin was like a canvas, an expanse of white; the red flush on his cheek slowly crept down to his neck and chest.
There was something different in Taemin's eyes, something that he had not shown before. Minho watched how the spark slowly subsided as his pupil dilated, his eyes grew darker and deeper. Gone had the teenager Minho knew. Taemin had transformed into a creature made of pure and raw sensuality. His touches was confident, feathery strokes and gentle pressures that drew illicit moan from Minho's mouth. The younger one easily managed for them to exchange position, Taemin was now hovering above Minho. His gaze followed the path made by his fingertips that traveled along the chest, down to Minho's taut belly, before the fingers took a firm grasp around Minho's erection.
"God--Taemin..." Minho threw his head back as Taemin nuzzled at the base of his cock, licking his way up to the tip, before his warm mouth closed over the head.
Taemin was direct; he did not tease, not even hesitated, and he aimed to please. He took almost the whole length of Minho's cock into his mouth, and worked his fingers with the part that remained untouched by his lips. He did not resisted when Minho's fingers grabbed a mass of hair at the back of his head, not even flinched when Minho began to push deeper into his mouth.
Taemin only stopped when Minho told him that he was going to come, his eyes was teary and lips swollen then, and said that he wanted Minho to come inside of him. Minho couldn't help but wonder where he gained his confidence, his skill, and it was when the image of Kibum flashed inside his mind.
Once again they shifted position--Minho almost too eager to have Taemin lied on his stomach, earning a questioning look from the younger man even though in the end he still complied. The thought spread like cancer, rapid and effective, and Minho wasn’t sure if he could do it while staring into Taemin's face. He began to think if Taemin had treated Kibum the same way, if the feeling Minho experienced was once belong to his.
As he rocked himself back and forth, moving in and out of Taemin's body, Minho couldn't help but wondering if there would ever be something--emotion, expression, or sensation--that had not been claimed by Kibum, that belonged to him and Taemin only.
It was the first of September, which marked the arrival of Autumn, when Kibum dropped by at Minho's dorm and shared the news that he received a dance fellowship at The Julliard School. The program might open Kibum's opportunity to get into Broadway, something he had always dreamed. He also said that he should leave shortly after Chuseok holiday, which was less than a month away.
None of them attempted to open a discussion regarding their relationship, not even when they spent fifteen minutes in awkward silent before Kibum finally left.
It hadn't been a week since the announcement, when Minho discovered Kibum's attempts to contact Taemin. That afternoon he had been asleep after the sex they just had, when the gentle buzz of Taemin's phone woke him up. Taemin's side of bed was empty, and judging from the dull noise of running water, Minho assumed that he was in the shower. Minho reluctantly stirred and reached out for the phone, intending to hand it over to his lover.
It was then that Minho read the name on the led display, 'Key'.
His first reaction was to drop the phone as if it was a scorching coal that burned his hand. The device fell back onto the bed with a soft thumping sound, still vibrated for another few seconds until Kibum gave up and disconnected. Minho stared at the phone, his hand reached out tentatively. The small device buzzed once again in his hand, only shorter that time, together with the appearance of incoming mail notification.
Minho did not waste any time to think. Against his better judgment, he keyed open Taemin’s phone--feeling thankful that the younger man unbothered to put on password--and access the inbox. He could deal with the guilt of prying into Taemin’s business later.
’This is probably going to be the last time I’m going to try contacting you. I’m leaving the country soon, whether with or without a closure. However, I deserve at least a chance to meet, and have you explained to me directly about why you suddenly pushed me away. Please, I’m begging you.’
Minho wondered what kind of expression Kibum had when he typed the message. Was he crying? Was he upset or desperate? The next second, though, Minho found himself typing a reply to Kibum’s mail.
’You’re right. I wasn’t being fair to you. Come to my place around this time tomorrow. I will be waiting.
Another message from Kibum arrived, with a simple ’Thank you in it
Minho managed to delete the call record, as well as the messages in both the phone’s inbox and outbox, before Taemin came into the room. Only his lower body was wrapped in thick cotton towel, and he smiled upon seeing that Minho was awake.
“You’re awake, hyung?”
Minho nodded, “You have a part time schedule this afternoon?”
“Yeah, my friend called sick and asked me to cover his shift.” He smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re free tomorrow, right? Can I come by sometime after lunch?”
“Sure! Are you gonna stay until dinner?”
Minho smiled at the younger man, ruffling his damp hair and said, “Let’s see about that.”
Giddiness was what Minho felt as he walked along the path from the train station to Taemin’s apartment the next day. He stopped by at odd places several times, trying to calm his heartbeat, before finally reached the building. Taemin answered the door as soon as Minho knocked, his usual welcoming smile was there for Minho to see.
“Hey, hyung! You’re quick! Have you had lunch?”
Minho shook his head, “Food can wait...” He lowered his head for a kiss.
Taemin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “This is definitely a pleasant surprise.”
“You have no idea. I wanna make love to you right now.” Minho smirked. Taking Taemin’s hand, he led them to the bed. “Come on!”
“Whoa!” Taemin exclaimed as Minho gently pushed him to lie on his back. “You’re serious!”
“Of course I am...” Minho lazily replied, his hand toyed with the buttons of Taemin’s shirt before undid them one by one. “The only thing I want to do this afternoon is fucking you. You don’t want it?”
“No, I want it!” Taemin quickly replied, and felt embarrassed for being slightly too enthusiastic. He repeated his statement, his tone calmer as his hand gently cupped Minho’s cheek, drawing it closer for a kiss. “I really, really want it...”
It was nothing like the sex they ever had before. First, Minho had stripped Taemin naked, before he began his exploration on the younger man’s body. He took his time, generously showered the flawless skin with kisses, while his hand ever so slowly jerked Taemin’s length. Minho removed his grip around Taemin’s cock when he noticed that the younger man’s body began to tense.
“Don’t come just yet, not before I fuck you.”
Taemin bit his lips in anticipation, and squirmed as Minho's lubricant-coated fingers began to circle and tease his opening. He instinctively spread his legs wider, his own hands secured the limbs at the back of the knees, providing more access. Minho’s eyes darkened upon witnessing Taemin’s shamelessness, the lack of hesitation from the younger boy somehow stirred up the beast inside of him. Slowly, his finger pushed into Taemin knuckle deep, before he pulled it out again and pushed back in repeatedly.
Below him, Taemin began to trash around. Thin layer of sweat formed on the younger man’s forehead. Minho added the second finger then, and continued to finger fucked Taemin. He smiled upon hearing the younger man’s small, suppressed moans; his teeth bared and incidentally brushed against Taemin’s nipple.
“Don’t hold yourself back Taemin,” He said, “I like to hear you out...”
“Please hyung, please...” Taemin said breathlessly. “Take me...”
The familiar view of the hallway that led to Taemin’s apartment welcomed Kibum, and for a second he closed his eyes upon the painful sensation of his constricting chest. It used to be a place that he frequented, the place where he found solace from the loneliness of having Minho prioritized football over him. And yet, as Kibum walked along the narrow corridor, the old wooden floor beneath his feet creaked with every step he made, he got to realize that the familiarity was no longer there. To him, it was just another foreign place he happened to be.
Finding Taemin’s apartment, Kibum raised his hand tentatively before turning the doorknob open, knowing that Taemin never put the lock during day. The anxiety attacked him as soon as he stepped into the flat, noticing the unfamiliar scent in the air, how the place no longer had evidences of his presence. For a moment, Kibum found himself holding back his tears.
"Taemin, I'm here." He called. No reply came, and instead he heard noises from the direction of Taemin's bedroom.
A sudden feeling of uneasiness hit Kibum. A major part of his intuition told him to turn his back around and leave, for something was definitely wrong. However, he had came with a purpose. The persistent need to find out about the reason of Taemin's sudden change of heart had won over his intuition. Bracing himself, he pushed the door that led toward the bedroom.
The shock came sudden, strong, as soon as Kibum saw what was revealed by the opened door.
"Taemin..." Minho said in between his labored breath. "What would you do if your ex happens to be here, seeing us like this..."
"What the hell, hyung--" Taemin whined, eyes shut as his legs drew Minho's hip closer. "Stop saying such thing..."
"Amuse me." Minho pressed, stressing on by stopping his movement while his cock was deeply buried inside Taemin’s body. “Come on...”
Taemin tried to budge his hips to get some release. However, Minho‘s weight that pinned him down was no match for Taemin’s strength, especially when he was so close to the orgasm that Minho denied him from. Desperate tears escaped from the corner of his closed eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck, hyung. He could watch for all I care. Just...don’t stop fucking me.” Taemin pleaded. “Please hyung, I’m so close. Fuck me...”
Minho seemed to find his answer satisfactory, for the next second he slowly pulled out and back to rocking his hips in a slow, steady rhythm.
“By the way, Taemin...” Minho whispered. His hand caressed Taemin’s cheek, before nudging the boy to look at the direction of the door.
“Meet my boyfriend, Kim Kibum...”
It didn’t take long until Taemin came--despite the state they were in, his body couldn’t apparently deny its biology--and Minho followed shortly later. The older man came hard all over Taemin’s belly and chest, and pulled himself away from Taemin to put his clothes back on. Taemin felt cold and exposed, and he knew he should do something to cover his nakedness.
He was, however, unable to move due to the shock. His eyes drifted from Kibum to Minho, to the empty ceiling above his head. And it was when he realized, as his mind slowly putting together the pieces, just what kind of set up he was in.
Kibum could not comprehend the complexity of the view before his eyes. It all seemed impossible; Minho and Taemin together. It was as if he was thrown into a hardboiled B-rated movies, with sick plot consisted of lies and deceit.
However, if there were lies and deceit, then they were partly his. Upon the realization, Kibum’s eyes grew hot. The tears he had managed to hold back so far finally fell.
Minho had finished putting on his clothes, and was tying his shoelaces. He had done it; the payback. He had played it even. The expression he saw on both Taemin’s and Key’s face was the trophy of his victory. However, he couldn’t get rid off the tiny speck of guilt that lingered at the corner of his conscience. Not even when he walked past Kibum, their shoulder brushed, and with his cold voice he whispered close in his lover’s ear.
“My farewell gift to you...”
...not even when he was closing the door of the bedroom, and saw for the last time, the two men who had been his life and his death.
fin...
* La Traviata: An opera piece written by Giuseppe Verdi (1952). From Wikipedia, “The title La traviata means literally The Fallen Woman, or perhaps more figuratively, The Woman Who Strayed.”, It is based on La Dame Aux Camellias (1852), a play adapted from the novel by Alexandre Dumas.