Should I Leave? ; 2MIN; [ONESHOT]
Title: Should I Leave?
Author: twenty3eleven
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut (yay hey!)
Pairings: 2min
Word count: 1,201
Summary: Taemin has been contemplating about leaving his current job, but something is pulling him back from doing so
A/N: Super belated birthday fic for my Lia bbnighttimefalls . Because she's precious and I love her! (Y) Oh well, she wanted a boss!Minho kind of thingy so uhhhhhhh, yeah. Enjoy! another failure :X
Should I or should I not leave? Taemin asked this question every single day. This inner instinct screamed at him to leave the company he deemed hell.
Leave, Taemin. You won’t gain anything from staying there.
Even though it was slightly too early for him to tender his resignation (he had been working there for a little over five months), a part of him wanted to get away from this hellhole as soon as possible.
But why such a long and fickle decision? It was because something was pulling him back from making the supposed right choice. This counterattack reaction going on in his head… it was a never ending battle.
No, he was not bound to a paper contract. In fact, he felt as if there were strong invisible ropes binding his limbs together, to keep him from clearing his workstation back to its default state and walk out of the glass doors without a single intention of coming back.
And just like how he had predicted many times before, that invisible vice grip was not going to let him go anytime soon.
~;~
Don’t stop, Minho. Don’t stop.
Knuckles were pallor white, pressed against the huge mahogany teak desk that aged beautifully with time. The said knuckles loosened, almost spontaneously; palms fanned out as fingernails fiercely dug onto the smooth finish to keep him from slipping off the table from the sheer force.
A side of his face was pressed firm onto the desk, strained moans escaped from his slightly parted swollen lips, eliciting noises every now and then to keep the man behind busy. Drenched copper red hair stuck on his face - a nasty (but yet arousing) makeup of sweat and post-orgasm bodily fluids. Well, the entire room smelt like his hair. Not that he would mind in any way.
Taemin was in a deadlock; he could not run, but he could not hide either. Pinned to the desk as large calloused hands settled on his slender waist like a fulcrum, he was exposed - exposed beyond his mind could even imagine. It was not his first time doing it; definitely not the first, or second, or even the fifth. He had been there many, many times, but every single new encounter just escalated to a whole lot more than the previous one.
Then it came. That one particular hard thrust.
His flat creamy stomach was bare; having his white working shirt removed hastily the moment he entered the large room and shoved into the wall like a ragdoll. The milky expanse bent over the edge of the large desk, the sharp angle cutting into his skin. It was uncomfortable (not painful though) for him, but he had to.
He loudly groaned against the desk, eyes shut to suppress himself from the overpowering pleasure and authority Minho had on him. What do you know, Minho was Taemin’s boss after all.
The moan Taemin elicited was enough to feed Minho’s selfish desires, increasing his pace behind Taemin at such an inhumane speed. Taemin winced at how painful he was being stretched and bruised to the limits, but then again, he did not mind either.
No one dared to go against the boss. Defying his orders would mean misery for the rest of the working life to the affected person, or even get himself fired.
He viewed this entire sham as a contract. As long as he worked here, his body solely belonged to none other than the highest authority figure in the building - the boss.
~;~
(Two days ago, after working hours)
I’m not going to change my mind about my resignation.
I told you, you’re not allowed to leave the company.
Minho’s expression never changed - not even a crease or a frown, as he sat down behind the mahogany desk, his back slumped against the large leathery swivel chair. His weighty gaze fell on Taemin as he watched the younger male in front of him.
He could not deny the effect Taemin had on him. He was not ready to release him yet.
Why do you want to leave?
Taemin moved towards the desk, until his legs hit the table front; the table now separating between them. He looked down at Minho, while Minho was looking up at him, locked in an eye contact. The pull in Taemin’s gaze was heavy on Minho, and it showed far more determination to get what he wanted. That he was serious about this matter.
Personal reasons, sir. And the job scope was not what I’ve been looking for.
Minho’s jaw tightened as he mentally scrutinised Taemin’s supposed reasons. Oh really? After all this while, he had been performing well in his work (no pun intended). He did not see the need to fire him.
~;~
Minho leaned down, pressing his body against the skinny form as his lips met the shell of Taemin’s ear. Still maintaining his thrusts into the younger male under him, he swallowed; hot raspy breaths against hot skin sent shivers down Taemin’s spine - protruding bony ridges became more prominent as his back arched from the intense pleasure.
I love you, Taemin.
Out of nowhere, Taemin heard those disgusting words, and he had no idea that those four words sounded like poison to his soul, because he knew Minho did not mean any of it. Such insignificance, was he that worthless to even receive such enormity?
But something about Minho, as what Taemin had pondered many times before, seemed sincere. It was not like Minho just fucked him relentlessly without any preparation. He did, but he was a little too rough.
He felt something grazed that spot inside him, and he groaned aloud. Being fucked too roughly: was it something that was regrettable, or was it just plain pleasure because he sort of enjoyed it? At the end of the day, the pleasure peak was what both of them were aiming for.
Taemin was not entirely sure of it.
Don’t you dare leave the company, Taemin.
Minho further increased his speed to assert his point, feeling the impending climax coming. He leaned very close to Taemin, such that the younger could feel the rock solid curves of Minho’s bare torso on his back.
Don’t you dare fucking leave me, Lee Taemin. I need you.
Minho ended with a butterfly kisses down the nape of his neck and shoulder, leaving hot fiery trails on skin. Taemin threw back his head, as he felt himself at the peak. His nerves were on fire - or rather, a massive explosion of fireworks erupted on the pores of his skin- as he rode the waves. Eyes fluttered close, fingernails dug deep onto the finished wood, leaving scrawny vertical marks.
Minho was right behind, giving in a few quick and shorter thrusts to further sweeten his impending need and finally, he released. He kept still, relishing the warmth of his seed spewing into Taemin, and how the latter squirmed a little underneath him as he was getting filled up by Minho.
And somewhere, inside the same room, a resignation letter enclosed in a white envelope laid carelessly on the floor, discarded along in a mangled heap of their clothes.
Taemin no longer see the need anymore.
-------------------
I don't know ;~; I'm so sorry Lia bb! ):
And thanks so much for reading & commenting you guys ♥
Lovies!
Love, Eleanor
Author: twenty3eleven
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Smut (yay hey!)
Pairings: 2min
Word count: 1,201
Summary: Taemin has been contemplating about leaving his current job, but something is pulling him back from doing so
A/N: Super belated birthday fic for my Lia bbnighttimefalls . Because she's precious and I love her! (Y) Oh well, she wanted a boss!Minho kind of thingy so uhhhhhhh, yeah. Enjoy! another failure :X
Should I or should I not leave? Taemin asked this question every single day. This inner instinct screamed at him to leave the company he deemed hell.
Leave, Taemin. You won’t gain anything from staying there.
Even though it was slightly too early for him to tender his resignation (he had been working there for a little over five months), a part of him wanted to get away from this hellhole as soon as possible.
But why such a long and fickle decision? It was because something was pulling him back from making the supposed right choice. This counterattack reaction going on in his head… it was a never ending battle.
No, he was not bound to a paper contract. In fact, he felt as if there were strong invisible ropes binding his limbs together, to keep him from clearing his workstation back to its default state and walk out of the glass doors without a single intention of coming back.
And just like how he had predicted many times before, that invisible vice grip was not going to let him go anytime soon.
~;~
Don’t stop, Minho. Don’t stop.
Knuckles were pallor white, pressed against the huge mahogany teak desk that aged beautifully with time. The said knuckles loosened, almost spontaneously; palms fanned out as fingernails fiercely dug onto the smooth finish to keep him from slipping off the table from the sheer force.
A side of his face was pressed firm onto the desk, strained moans escaped from his slightly parted swollen lips, eliciting noises every now and then to keep the man behind busy. Drenched copper red hair stuck on his face - a nasty (but yet arousing) makeup of sweat and post-orgasm bodily fluids. Well, the entire room smelt like his hair. Not that he would mind in any way.
Taemin was in a deadlock; he could not run, but he could not hide either. Pinned to the desk as large calloused hands settled on his slender waist like a fulcrum, he was exposed - exposed beyond his mind could even imagine. It was not his first time doing it; definitely not the first, or second, or even the fifth. He had been there many, many times, but every single new encounter just escalated to a whole lot more than the previous one.
Then it came. That one particular hard thrust.
His flat creamy stomach was bare; having his white working shirt removed hastily the moment he entered the large room and shoved into the wall like a ragdoll. The milky expanse bent over the edge of the large desk, the sharp angle cutting into his skin. It was uncomfortable (not painful though) for him, but he had to.
He loudly groaned against the desk, eyes shut to suppress himself from the overpowering pleasure and authority Minho had on him. What do you know, Minho was Taemin’s boss after all.
The moan Taemin elicited was enough to feed Minho’s selfish desires, increasing his pace behind Taemin at such an inhumane speed. Taemin winced at how painful he was being stretched and bruised to the limits, but then again, he did not mind either.
No one dared to go against the boss. Defying his orders would mean misery for the rest of the working life to the affected person, or even get himself fired.
He viewed this entire sham as a contract. As long as he worked here, his body solely belonged to none other than the highest authority figure in the building - the boss.
~;~
(Two days ago, after working hours)
I’m not going to change my mind about my resignation.
I told you, you’re not allowed to leave the company.
Minho’s expression never changed - not even a crease or a frown, as he sat down behind the mahogany desk, his back slumped against the large leathery swivel chair. His weighty gaze fell on Taemin as he watched the younger male in front of him.
He could not deny the effect Taemin had on him. He was not ready to release him yet.
Why do you want to leave?
Taemin moved towards the desk, until his legs hit the table front; the table now separating between them. He looked down at Minho, while Minho was looking up at him, locked in an eye contact. The pull in Taemin’s gaze was heavy on Minho, and it showed far more determination to get what he wanted. That he was serious about this matter.
Personal reasons, sir. And the job scope was not what I’ve been looking for.
Minho’s jaw tightened as he mentally scrutinised Taemin’s supposed reasons. Oh really? After all this while, he had been performing well in his work (no pun intended). He did not see the need to fire him.
~;~
Minho leaned down, pressing his body against the skinny form as his lips met the shell of Taemin’s ear. Still maintaining his thrusts into the younger male under him, he swallowed; hot raspy breaths against hot skin sent shivers down Taemin’s spine - protruding bony ridges became more prominent as his back arched from the intense pleasure.
I love you, Taemin.
Out of nowhere, Taemin heard those disgusting words, and he had no idea that those four words sounded like poison to his soul, because he knew Minho did not mean any of it. Such insignificance, was he that worthless to even receive such enormity?
But something about Minho, as what Taemin had pondered many times before, seemed sincere. It was not like Minho just fucked him relentlessly without any preparation. He did, but he was a little too rough.
He felt something grazed that spot inside him, and he groaned aloud. Being fucked too roughly: was it something that was regrettable, or was it just plain pleasure because he sort of enjoyed it? At the end of the day, the pleasure peak was what both of them were aiming for.
Taemin was not entirely sure of it.
Don’t you dare leave the company, Taemin.
Minho further increased his speed to assert his point, feeling the impending climax coming. He leaned very close to Taemin, such that the younger could feel the rock solid curves of Minho’s bare torso on his back.
Don’t you dare fucking leave me, Lee Taemin. I need you.
Minho ended with a butterfly kisses down the nape of his neck and shoulder, leaving hot fiery trails on skin. Taemin threw back his head, as he felt himself at the peak. His nerves were on fire - or rather, a massive explosion of fireworks erupted on the pores of his skin- as he rode the waves. Eyes fluttered close, fingernails dug deep onto the finished wood, leaving scrawny vertical marks.
Minho was right behind, giving in a few quick and shorter thrusts to further sweeten his impending need and finally, he released. He kept still, relishing the warmth of his seed spewing into Taemin, and how the latter squirmed a little underneath him as he was getting filled up by Minho.
And somewhere, inside the same room, a resignation letter enclosed in a white envelope laid carelessly on the floor, discarded along in a mangled heap of their clothes.
Taemin no longer see the need anymore.
-------------------
I don't know ;~; I'm so sorry Lia bb! ):
And thanks so much for reading & commenting you guys ♥
Lovies!
Love, Eleanor