Call Me Oppa (7/?)
Title: Call Me Oppa (7/?)
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 4,267w (25,786 total)
Summary: "Some people are just unlucky."
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
C H A P T E R 7
Jinki woke up in a panic; oh my god, I'm late for school I'm late for work I'm late for something. His mind raced over the logistics of the situation - if he skipped a shower, got right out of bed and caught the bus, he could make it in time for... shit, he had a test. He was supposed to study on Sunday. Why hadn't he studied for-oh.
It was Sunday.
He squinted against the bright sunlight cutting through the blinds. He was in the guest room at Key's house. Not late for anything. Good.
Taemin was wide awake, propped up against the headboard with a book open across his knees. Jinki wiggled until he could see the title: Advanced Calculus. Taemin was already studying instead of nursing a hangover. His hair was pulled back again, tangles caught in a loose elastic.
Jinki squeezed his eyes shut when Taemin glanced over. "Nice try," Taemin said. "I know you're awake."
Jinki rolled onto his side, winding the blankets around his legs. He mumbled into the pillows, too early wanna sleep.
"It's ten. Have you studied for the test tomorrow?"
"Was gonna today," Jinki said. He propped his chin on his hands and blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright sunlight.
Taemin was dressed. His jean-clad legs were on top of the covers, and he wore a tee shirt that was several sizes too big, most of the fabric bunched up near his waist. It made his arms look even skinnier, like sticks on a snowman.
"I'm surprised you can keep your eyes open," Jinki said. "You don't have a hangover?"
"Took some aspirin," Taemin said. He tapped his pencil against the top of the textbook. "Help me study?"
Jinki looked at the numbers on the digital clock. "No, I should probably go home. 'Sides, it'll be you helping me study, not the other way around."
Taemin's eyebrows twitched closer, but he quickly smoothed his expression before it turned into a frown. "Oh... okay, hyung."
It wasn't hard to catch the disappointment in his tone. Jinki sat up and put an arm around Taemin's shoulders, pulling him over into a one-armed hug. "Hey, Taemin-ah," he said, and Taemin smiled at the familiar tone, "don't be upset. I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."
Taemin smiled, a little startled. "I know, hyung. I didn't- I mean, I'm not upset. I know you're not avoiding me." From the quaver in his voice, Jinki suspected that was exactly what he expected Jinki to be doing.
Jinki smiled and ruffled Taemin's hair. He leaned over and- shit, what was he supposed to do here? He'd kissed Taemin last night, but drunk and high Taemin was so different from sleepy adorable morning Taemin, and Jinki didn't know if it was okay or appropriate to kiss him right now.
"Hyung," Taemin sighed, exasperated. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Jinki's; nothing suggestive, no hint of tongue, just a firm peck to Jinki's mouth.
It took a second for Jinki to register what had happened, and then his face spread into a grin. "See you tomorrow," he said.
Jinki didn't really care that Taemin was laughing at him. "See you tomorrow, hyung," he echoed, and lightly pushed Jinki off the bed.
There was another car in the driveway when Jinki got home; a black sedan. He felt all of the air leave his lungs at the sight before he could think rationally. It wasn't his father's car. Not even the same make. His uncle must be over.
Jinki toed off his shoes at the door and followed the sound of voices into the kitchen. His mother was sitting at the island, nursing a cup of coffee. Uncle Kyeochul was putting his coat on.
"Jinki-yah, hi!" Kyeochul hugged him and let go quickly. "I was just stopping by to check on you guys on my way through town. Sorry, I can't stay; I didn't think you'd be out. How's school? Which universities have you applied to?"
Jinki shrugged off his uncle's questions, and avoided his mother's dark look. "Have you been to visit my dad?" He asked.
Kyeochul hung his head. "Look, kiddo..."
The nickname made Jinki bristle.
"It's hard to see him when, y'know, it's. Uh. It's hard to explain, Jinki. I... I can't just-"
"No, I get it." Jinki cut him off. The headache that should have been part of a hangover was starting to pound behind his eyes, an angry throbbing he wanted to push against the heel of his palm. "I get it. Have a safe trip home."
Kyeochul looked like he wanted to say something else, but Jinki's mother stood up and started ushering him towards the door. Jinki debated between staying in the kitchen and overhearing the conversation in the foyer or going upstairs to study. Kyeochul was whispering, don't know what to say to him, noona, and his mother whispered back, don't say anything. Jinki didn't think he'd get much studying done today, but he went upstairs and got his textbooks out anyway.
Jinki dreamed about broken glass, a shattered windshield splintering into pieces. He was standing on an empty soccer field, listening to the glass shards whistle through the air like missiles, a spray of fireworks raining down around him. The glass stuck out of the sod, glittering in the sun; strangely pretty, throwing multicoloured light.
Although there was a risk of being cut walking through all that broken glass, Jinki did so without hesitation. His movements were so precise, weaving like a river, like a snake. The grass grew around him, but Jinki had no trouble making it through what suddenly became a forest. He knew the landscape before he saw it; he could anticipate from the thrum against his stomach and that didn't strike him as weird until he thought about how awfully long his stomach felt...
The thought distracted him from the glass long enough to misjudge a corner. The glass sliced into his skin, and he flinched away with a loud hisssss. The ground all around him was flecked with blood. Jinki stared in horror for a moment, and then he heard a roar from far away. Distant shouting. Horses' hooves. He extended his head to look over the field of glass - not glass; crystal swords stuck hilt-down in the field. There was a castle on one end, and a row of angry horsemen on the other.
Jinki knew, as the protagonist in a dream always seems to know, that he had to make it across the field of swords for some reward. Already bleeding, Jinki slithered through the swords, weaving and curling around the blades. He made it through without cutting himself too badly; only minor flesh wounds that flecked blood. They stung more from inconvenience than pain. Jinki slithered to the door of the castle and with his belly to the ground he hissed, let me in let me in.
Behind the door was the princess Jinki had endured the cuts of a thousand swords for. He knew it before the hinges creaked and the door slowly swung inward. And there was Taemin, peeking out from under locks of long black hair. He wore a woman's hanbok, brightly coloured, his face done up like an old-fashioned gisaeng.
You must be tired, orabeonim*, Taemin said - Jinki didn't so much hear the words out loud as he simply knew that they'd been said. Taemin kneeled in a full bow. Come inside. I'll pour your tea and tend your wounds.
There was a low table with a formal tea setting in the next room. Taemin gestured for Jinki to take a seat, and Jinki coiled his body on a pillow with his head overlooking the table. Taemin poured the tea with an easy grace, his expression serene, hands steady. He spoke - nothing that Jinki could remember upon waking, except for the respectful, feminine orabeonim that Taemin used to address him.
As Jinki sipped the tea, he watched his skin stretch and shift. He pulled his legs free like he had simply stuffed them down one pantleg. He'd shed his skin. Taemin didn't seem surprised at the transformation.
Jinki hadn't been aware that he was dreaming until the transition from the snake back into himself. The lucidity tugged at his consciousness; he was suddenly aware that he could wake up at any moment - not that he wanted to. Taemin was pouring more tea, batting his eyelashes, flashing the pale skin of his arms as he turned back his sleeves. Orabeonim, he purred, voice low and soft. Would you like something other than tea?
Jinki's mouth dropped as Taemin sat back and lifted his skirt in invitation. Jinki barely registered moving across the table; one moment he was seated, and then next he was kneeling between Taemin's knees, pushing the fabric up to bunch around his thighs. Underneath the traditional hanbok, above the long pale expanse of his thighs, Taemin was wearing panties.
Frilly, pink, flower-print panties.
Jinki woke up on his stomach, his erection pressed between his belly and the mattress. He put his face into the pillow and tried to recapture the image of Taemin with a deep-coloured skirt pooling around his thighs like tangled sheets. Jinki continued the dream in his conscious imagination: tugging the little girl panties down to the bend of Taemin's knees, lifting his legs up and pressing kisses to Taemin's thighs, making him squirm and whisper - orabeonim, please! Jinki rut against the mattress as he let his imagination get away with him, and he barely had to touch himself to come, painfully close from just the image of being between Taemin's thighs.
As Jinki pulled the sheets off the mattress to put them in the wash, he resolved: no more studying Korean history before bed.
The calculus test was a blur.
Jinki stared at his paper, not looking up once, trying so hard to focus on the numbers in front of him, but it was a lost cause. All of his other senses were trained on Taemin: the scratch of his mechanical pencil, the quiet parting of his lips as he licked them, the faint heat of his presence. Every time Taemin finished a question, he let out a faint sigh and repositioned in his seat, the chair creaking underneath him. He finished the test almost twenty minutes before Jinki did, and instead of leaving after he handed in his test, Taemin returned to his seat and put his head down. Since Taemin's eyes were closed, it was too easy for Jinki's gaze to drift, sighing as he imagined the press of those lips, the silky smooth touch of Taemin's hair against his face...
"Okay, class. Time's up!"
Jinki hadn't even finished the last question. He hastily scribbled the answer - he'd get marks docked for improper form - and passed up his test. Taemin was looking at him funny, this knowing glint in his eyes.
"How'd you do?" Jinki asked, desperate for something to say.
Taemin shrugged. "Did okay."
"I think I messed up the last question. Do you remember what you got for it?"
"Hyung," Taemin huffed, exasperated. He put his things away, and slung his bag over his shoulder. He hugged a set of textbooks to his chest. "The test is over. There's nothing you can do about it now even if you knew the right answer."
They joined the flow of students shuffling out of the classroom. At the end of the hall, Jinki would turn one way and Taemin would go the other, and then they wouldn't see each other until calculus tomorrow morning. Twenty-four hours suddenly seemed like an eternity.
Jinki tugged briefly on Taemin's hand and blurted, "Wannaeatlunchwithme?"
Taemin stared for a moment, processing, and then his face split into a smile. "Sure, hyung."
"I'll meet you after class?" Jinki didn't know why that came out like a question, like he expected Taemin to change his mind. "What do you have next period?"
Taemin tapped the topmost textbook in his arms: Korean history. The graphic on the cover had a round-faced young woman in a hanbok; her facial features were startlingly similar to Taemin's.
Jinki fought the urge to blush. "Okay," he said, and swallowed. "Uh, that's in the old wing, right? I'll meet you there."
Taemin hovered for a moment, and Jinki blanched. Did he expect a hug? A bow? What was the protocol for this kind of social interaction? He couldn't exactly lean over and give Taemin a kiss in the middle of the hallway, which was exactly what he wanted to do.
Taemin smiled softly and grabbed Jinki's hand, just for a second, and gave it a squeeze. "See you soon," he whispered, and even though he hadn't said anything scandalous, the tone of his voice was like a peck on the lips.
"See you soon," Jinki whispered back.
Taemin didn't eat lunch in the cafeteria; it was probably why Jinki had never seen him outside of class until that day at the bus stop. Taemin usually practiced in the gym during lunch, he explained. Didn't have time to wait in line for cafeteria food.
"Key only practices at school on Tuesdays," Jinki said, frowning.
Taemin shifted his bag to the other shoulder. The line crawled forward, and Jinki and Taemin shuffled along. "Well, you know. There's no such thing as born talent," Taemin said, looking at his shoes, "just hard work."
"You don't have to skip practice to hang out with me," Jinki said. He rubbed the back of his neck. The line inched forward, and Taemin used the opportunity to lean into Jinki's shoulder.
"It's okay, hyung. I want to."
With a faint grin, Jinki paid for his food. He scanned the cafeteria for a table - Key and Jonghyun were near the back, probably with Sekyung and some of her friends. Jinki quickly convinced himself out of that idea. He wanted to spend time with Taemin, not have to listen to his friends bicker and crack jokes about them. Jinki looked at Taemin. "Uh, where do you want to eat?"
Taemin flashed a smile; no teeth, but his eyes turned into crescents. He grabbed Jinki's wrist and led him out of the cafeteria, down the main hall, and out onto the back field. So late in the year, the only people outside were a few members of the soccer team, kicking a ball back-and-forth. Jinki ducked his head. He had the feeling that Taesun wouldn't be too appreciative of Jinki hanging around his younger brother.
Taemin led Jinki behind the bleachers, where half-naked trees dotted the fenceline. The furthest tree was the topmost corner of a triangle; two other trees obscured the view from the field, casting the centre in shadowed privacy. Taemin walked right to the middle and sat down, smoothing his coat down to make sure it covered his butt.
"Y'know, I've been going to this school for three years and I've never been to this spot," Jinki said. In warmer weather, the trees would have been full and shady, a perfect shelter from the sun. Even this late, with the trees gone spotty and russet gold, the shade was like a wall around them. The leaves muffled the shouts from the field enough that they blended into white noise; the hum of distant activity made it seem quieter somehow. A pocket of silence.
"I found it during my first week here," Taemin said. "Beats eating in the cafeteria when the gym's being used." He didn't raise his voice louder than he needed to be heard, and Jinki matched the volume, humming his agreement. This was a place where the quiet was respected.
Taemin pulled out his lunch box and cracked the lid. It looked like a school lunch from a movie: picture-perfect egg on top of boiled rice, sausage and fish in the side compartments in neat rows. Jinki could smell the spices from where he was standing. His mother hadn't made him a boxed lunch like that since he was a kid. Feeling a little inferior with his cafeteria-bought kimbap, Jinki sat down cross-legged, brushing shoulders with Taemin.
Before Taemin started eating, he made a sign of the cross and whispered grace. Jinki watched Taemin's lips move, all breath, the final amen sounding like a sigh. Jinki felt a little awkward digging into his food without ceremony - he believed in God, but he wasn't so religious that he was going to thank Him for every meal. It's not like God had done a lot for Jinki recently anyway.
"Does that make you uncomfortable?" Taemin whispered.
"What?"
Taemin gave a knowing look - Jinki knew exactly what he was talking about, but it was only polite to feign ignorance. "The grace," Taemin clarified. "Is your family very religious?"
Jinki shook his head. "Not really, no. But it doesn't bother me that you are. I guess I just don't understand the point of it."
Taemin went quiet for a long moment, tapping the tips of his chopsticks against his lip. Jinki was pretty sure that religion was one of those topics you were supposed to avoid on a first... date? Was this a date? Did eating lunch together at school count as a date? In any case, religion seemed like small beans in comparison to other things that they already knew about each other. It was hard to imagine Taemin getting offended by the conversation when he'd let Jinki see him in girls' underwear.
"It's comforting," Taemin said at last. "Even if it doesn't make a difference, it can't hurt to try, right? Have you ever prayed for your dad?"
Jinki frowned at the thought. "No. I don't see how it would help him."
"Maybe not," Taemin agreed, "but it might help you."
Taemin was smiling when Jinki looked up, but it was a sad smile, a little self-conscious. It was an I hope I haven't said too much smile. Jinki couldn't help but wonder what it was that Taemin prayed for. Last week when he came to class haggard and sleepless and spent the lesson whispering Hail Marys under his breath - what had he been comforting himself for then?
Taemin picked at his food for a while longer, but the container was still half-full when he snapped the lid on and put it back in his bag. He leaned forward on his hands, close enough that Jinki could smell his shampoo, something sharp and citrus. "Jinki-hyung," he whispered, "you know, no one can see us from here."
Jinki could hear voices, the boys shouting on the field and the hollow thump of a sneaker connecting with a soccer ball, but Taemin was right - the trees hid them from view, shading them in relative privacy. Taemin was sitting so close, his cheek almost against Jinki's shirt, and when he tilted his head, his lips brushed Jinki's jaw.
Taemin leaned into Jinki's space until Jinki took the hint and uncrossed his legs, letting Taemin settle between his knees. Taemin pressed his lips against Jinki's, firm and needy, over and over until Jinki opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. He put a hand on the nape of Taemin's neck to hold him closer, and Taemin happily scooted forward. His mouth was hot, faintly spicy.
With his hands splayed over Jinki's shirt, Taemin pushed Jinki back to lie down on the grass. He stretched out next to him, and they spent the rest of the lunch period like that, lying side-by-side, exploring each other's mouths and touching what skin they could without removing clothes. Jinki found out that the bend of Taemin's hip was ticklish, but just the right amount of pressure from his thumbs would make Taemin groan and pitch his hips forward. Taemin kissed every part of Jinki's face, and discovered with a breathy chuckle that Jinki's ears were hyper-sensitive, and every brush of his lips sent eddies of shivers down Jinki's spine.
When the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, they reluctantly parted, both of them half-hard and flushed. Taemin had a wicked grin as he watched Jinki stand and attempt to smooth out his uniform.
"Come on," Jinki said, very conscious of Taemin's eyes on the tent in his pants. "I'll, uh, walk you to class."
For the rest of the week, when Jinki didn't have tutoring, he spent the entire hour-long lunch period with Taemin under the trees behind the bleachers. It wasn't too chilly to be outside yet, and their breath in the air only served as an excuse to sit closer, to share a jacket, to put their hands in the same pockets.
They talked about everything under the sun, but more often, they didn't say anything at all. Jinki understood without being told that this corner of the schoolground was where Taemin went for silence, a place to think, and Jinki was more than content to share the quiet with Taemin's hand curled in his. Twice, Jinki fell asleep with his head in Taemin's lap as Taemin carded fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, soothing him into a state where reality blurred and time seemed to slip by unnoticed. Taemin woke him up before the bell with a kiss like sleeping beauty, and when Jinki apologized for nodding off, Taemin shook his head. "Wish I could let you sleep longer," he said, lips against Jinki's cheek. "You look like you don't get nearly enough."
Jinki was tempted to point out that Taemin looked just as tired as he was, if not more so, but Taemin gave the impression that he wouldn't appreciate the observation.
Working on Friday nights was always the worst. It's not that Jinki was more busy or tired than other days, but the simple fact that it was the end of the week made the evening drag. Jinki caught the last possible bus from his house; no way he was showing up early on a Friday.
Jonghyun got on a few stops down. Jinki waved to him, but Jonghyun didn't wave back or crack a smile. He fell into the seat next to Jinki with a heavy sigh. He was already wearing his work uniform, the collar neat and pressed. He had his arms crossed and his chin up in the air, overacting so that Jinki wouldn't notice that he was legitimately upset about something - Jonghyun was the master of just kidding. Jinki noticed, of course. He'd known Jonghyun too long to be fooled by his theatrics.
"Hey, Jjong," Jinki said. "Your face is longer than usual."
Jonghyun mock-pouted. "Yeah, well. Your face is ugly."
A weak retort. Jonghyun must have been feeling especially bleak. Jinki gave a sympathetic look. "You feeling okay, buddy?"
For a moment, Jonghyun turned his nose up and acted like he wasn't going to say. Jinki waited him out. Jonghyun was terrible at being mad; after his initial posturing he gave in easily, wanting to get it over with so they could go back to cracking jokes. "You never hang out at lunch anymore," Jonghyun said, his voice on the edge of a whine. "How come?"
"I've been busy," Jinki started. Before he could spit out one of the many excuses he had at his disposal - tutoring, soccer, helping a teacher, studying - Jonghyun cut him off.
"Bull! Key and I saw you with Lee Taemin at lunch today."
"Then why'd you ask if you knew where I was?" Jinki said, sighing.
"I wanted to see if you'd lie! Which you did!" Jonghyun's voice was rising to a volume inappropriate even on a public bus. The people at the back could probably hear every word crystal clear over the roar of the engine. Jinki knew better than to shush Jonghyun; it only spurred him to talk louder out of spite. "So what's going on with him?" Jonghyun asked.
Jinki tried to play it off nonchalant, like, oh he's just this guy. He shrugged and mumbled, "Dunno. We've been hanging out since that party at Key's."
"Like hanging out? Or hanging out?"
"Hanging out. We've been seeing each other a lot."
"Seeing each other? Or seeing each other?"
"Uh, well, seeing each- wait. What the hell are you on about?"
"I'm trying to ask if you're with Lee Taemin. Like, with him. You know." Jonghyun made a ring of his index and thumb, and lewdly poked a finger into the gap.
Jinki stared in horror as Jonghyun repeated the gesture. "I refuse to answer your ridiculous questions until you stop acting like a grade-schooler."
Jonghyun fixed Jinki with a death glare, but stopped the hand sex, much to Jinki's relief. "Hyung. Are you ditching me for Lee Taemin because you think he's pretty and you want to do him hard and possibly sideways?"
It didn't sound like Jonghyun was making a judgement call; he'd been friends with Key for longer than Jinki. If Jonghyun was bothered by guy-on-guy, Jinki would have known about it by now. He nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah. I guess so. That sounds about right."
Jonghyun made a face. And then another face. "That's... wow. Okay, that's kinda gross, but I was expecting that. Key said as much."
"Why do you always ask about things you already know?"
Jonghyun scoffed. "Sometimes it's better to hear it straight from the horse's mouth."
"You're the one who looks like a horse," Jinki said. "Your face is so long."
"Yah!" Jonghyun sucker-punched Jinki in the shoulder, and just like that, subject dropped.
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* orabeonim is a very respectful version of oppa, really only used nowadays in historical dramas
wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 4,267w (25,786 total)
Summary: "Some people are just unlucky."
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
C H A P T E R 7
Jinki woke up in a panic; oh my god, I'm late for school I'm late for work I'm late for something. His mind raced over the logistics of the situation - if he skipped a shower, got right out of bed and caught the bus, he could make it in time for... shit, he had a test. He was supposed to study on Sunday. Why hadn't he studied for-oh.
It was Sunday.
He squinted against the bright sunlight cutting through the blinds. He was in the guest room at Key's house. Not late for anything. Good.
Taemin was wide awake, propped up against the headboard with a book open across his knees. Jinki wiggled until he could see the title: Advanced Calculus. Taemin was already studying instead of nursing a hangover. His hair was pulled back again, tangles caught in a loose elastic.
Jinki squeezed his eyes shut when Taemin glanced over. "Nice try," Taemin said. "I know you're awake."
Jinki rolled onto his side, winding the blankets around his legs. He mumbled into the pillows, too early wanna sleep.
"It's ten. Have you studied for the test tomorrow?"
"Was gonna today," Jinki said. He propped his chin on his hands and blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright sunlight.
Taemin was dressed. His jean-clad legs were on top of the covers, and he wore a tee shirt that was several sizes too big, most of the fabric bunched up near his waist. It made his arms look even skinnier, like sticks on a snowman.
"I'm surprised you can keep your eyes open," Jinki said. "You don't have a hangover?"
"Took some aspirin," Taemin said. He tapped his pencil against the top of the textbook. "Help me study?"
Jinki looked at the numbers on the digital clock. "No, I should probably go home. 'Sides, it'll be you helping me study, not the other way around."
Taemin's eyebrows twitched closer, but he quickly smoothed his expression before it turned into a frown. "Oh... okay, hyung."
It wasn't hard to catch the disappointment in his tone. Jinki sat up and put an arm around Taemin's shoulders, pulling him over into a one-armed hug. "Hey, Taemin-ah," he said, and Taemin smiled at the familiar tone, "don't be upset. I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."
Taemin smiled, a little startled. "I know, hyung. I didn't- I mean, I'm not upset. I know you're not avoiding me." From the quaver in his voice, Jinki suspected that was exactly what he expected Jinki to be doing.
Jinki smiled and ruffled Taemin's hair. He leaned over and- shit, what was he supposed to do here? He'd kissed Taemin last night, but drunk and high Taemin was so different from sleepy adorable morning Taemin, and Jinki didn't know if it was okay or appropriate to kiss him right now.
"Hyung," Taemin sighed, exasperated. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Jinki's; nothing suggestive, no hint of tongue, just a firm peck to Jinki's mouth.
It took a second for Jinki to register what had happened, and then his face spread into a grin. "See you tomorrow," he said.
Jinki didn't really care that Taemin was laughing at him. "See you tomorrow, hyung," he echoed, and lightly pushed Jinki off the bed.
There was another car in the driveway when Jinki got home; a black sedan. He felt all of the air leave his lungs at the sight before he could think rationally. It wasn't his father's car. Not even the same make. His uncle must be over.
Jinki toed off his shoes at the door and followed the sound of voices into the kitchen. His mother was sitting at the island, nursing a cup of coffee. Uncle Kyeochul was putting his coat on.
"Jinki-yah, hi!" Kyeochul hugged him and let go quickly. "I was just stopping by to check on you guys on my way through town. Sorry, I can't stay; I didn't think you'd be out. How's school? Which universities have you applied to?"
Jinki shrugged off his uncle's questions, and avoided his mother's dark look. "Have you been to visit my dad?" He asked.
Kyeochul hung his head. "Look, kiddo..."
The nickname made Jinki bristle.
"It's hard to see him when, y'know, it's. Uh. It's hard to explain, Jinki. I... I can't just-"
"No, I get it." Jinki cut him off. The headache that should have been part of a hangover was starting to pound behind his eyes, an angry throbbing he wanted to push against the heel of his palm. "I get it. Have a safe trip home."
Kyeochul looked like he wanted to say something else, but Jinki's mother stood up and started ushering him towards the door. Jinki debated between staying in the kitchen and overhearing the conversation in the foyer or going upstairs to study. Kyeochul was whispering, don't know what to say to him, noona, and his mother whispered back, don't say anything. Jinki didn't think he'd get much studying done today, but he went upstairs and got his textbooks out anyway.
Jinki dreamed about broken glass, a shattered windshield splintering into pieces. He was standing on an empty soccer field, listening to the glass shards whistle through the air like missiles, a spray of fireworks raining down around him. The glass stuck out of the sod, glittering in the sun; strangely pretty, throwing multicoloured light.
Although there was a risk of being cut walking through all that broken glass, Jinki did so without hesitation. His movements were so precise, weaving like a river, like a snake. The grass grew around him, but Jinki had no trouble making it through what suddenly became a forest. He knew the landscape before he saw it; he could anticipate from the thrum against his stomach and that didn't strike him as weird until he thought about how awfully long his stomach felt...
The thought distracted him from the glass long enough to misjudge a corner. The glass sliced into his skin, and he flinched away with a loud hisssss. The ground all around him was flecked with blood. Jinki stared in horror for a moment, and then he heard a roar from far away. Distant shouting. Horses' hooves. He extended his head to look over the field of glass - not glass; crystal swords stuck hilt-down in the field. There was a castle on one end, and a row of angry horsemen on the other.
Jinki knew, as the protagonist in a dream always seems to know, that he had to make it across the field of swords for some reward. Already bleeding, Jinki slithered through the swords, weaving and curling around the blades. He made it through without cutting himself too badly; only minor flesh wounds that flecked blood. They stung more from inconvenience than pain. Jinki slithered to the door of the castle and with his belly to the ground he hissed, let me in let me in.
Behind the door was the princess Jinki had endured the cuts of a thousand swords for. He knew it before the hinges creaked and the door slowly swung inward. And there was Taemin, peeking out from under locks of long black hair. He wore a woman's hanbok, brightly coloured, his face done up like an old-fashioned gisaeng.
You must be tired, orabeonim*, Taemin said - Jinki didn't so much hear the words out loud as he simply knew that they'd been said. Taemin kneeled in a full bow. Come inside. I'll pour your tea and tend your wounds.
There was a low table with a formal tea setting in the next room. Taemin gestured for Jinki to take a seat, and Jinki coiled his body on a pillow with his head overlooking the table. Taemin poured the tea with an easy grace, his expression serene, hands steady. He spoke - nothing that Jinki could remember upon waking, except for the respectful, feminine orabeonim that Taemin used to address him.
As Jinki sipped the tea, he watched his skin stretch and shift. He pulled his legs free like he had simply stuffed them down one pantleg. He'd shed his skin. Taemin didn't seem surprised at the transformation.
Jinki hadn't been aware that he was dreaming until the transition from the snake back into himself. The lucidity tugged at his consciousness; he was suddenly aware that he could wake up at any moment - not that he wanted to. Taemin was pouring more tea, batting his eyelashes, flashing the pale skin of his arms as he turned back his sleeves. Orabeonim, he purred, voice low and soft. Would you like something other than tea?
Jinki's mouth dropped as Taemin sat back and lifted his skirt in invitation. Jinki barely registered moving across the table; one moment he was seated, and then next he was kneeling between Taemin's knees, pushing the fabric up to bunch around his thighs. Underneath the traditional hanbok, above the long pale expanse of his thighs, Taemin was wearing panties.
Frilly, pink, flower-print panties.
Jinki woke up on his stomach, his erection pressed between his belly and the mattress. He put his face into the pillow and tried to recapture the image of Taemin with a deep-coloured skirt pooling around his thighs like tangled sheets. Jinki continued the dream in his conscious imagination: tugging the little girl panties down to the bend of Taemin's knees, lifting his legs up and pressing kisses to Taemin's thighs, making him squirm and whisper - orabeonim, please! Jinki rut against the mattress as he let his imagination get away with him, and he barely had to touch himself to come, painfully close from just the image of being between Taemin's thighs.
As Jinki pulled the sheets off the mattress to put them in the wash, he resolved: no more studying Korean history before bed.
The calculus test was a blur.
Jinki stared at his paper, not looking up once, trying so hard to focus on the numbers in front of him, but it was a lost cause. All of his other senses were trained on Taemin: the scratch of his mechanical pencil, the quiet parting of his lips as he licked them, the faint heat of his presence. Every time Taemin finished a question, he let out a faint sigh and repositioned in his seat, the chair creaking underneath him. He finished the test almost twenty minutes before Jinki did, and instead of leaving after he handed in his test, Taemin returned to his seat and put his head down. Since Taemin's eyes were closed, it was too easy for Jinki's gaze to drift, sighing as he imagined the press of those lips, the silky smooth touch of Taemin's hair against his face...
"Okay, class. Time's up!"
Jinki hadn't even finished the last question. He hastily scribbled the answer - he'd get marks docked for improper form - and passed up his test. Taemin was looking at him funny, this knowing glint in his eyes.
"How'd you do?" Jinki asked, desperate for something to say.
Taemin shrugged. "Did okay."
"I think I messed up the last question. Do you remember what you got for it?"
"Hyung," Taemin huffed, exasperated. He put his things away, and slung his bag over his shoulder. He hugged a set of textbooks to his chest. "The test is over. There's nothing you can do about it now even if you knew the right answer."
They joined the flow of students shuffling out of the classroom. At the end of the hall, Jinki would turn one way and Taemin would go the other, and then they wouldn't see each other until calculus tomorrow morning. Twenty-four hours suddenly seemed like an eternity.
Jinki tugged briefly on Taemin's hand and blurted, "Wannaeatlunchwithme?"
Taemin stared for a moment, processing, and then his face split into a smile. "Sure, hyung."
"I'll meet you after class?" Jinki didn't know why that came out like a question, like he expected Taemin to change his mind. "What do you have next period?"
Taemin tapped the topmost textbook in his arms: Korean history. The graphic on the cover had a round-faced young woman in a hanbok; her facial features were startlingly similar to Taemin's.
Jinki fought the urge to blush. "Okay," he said, and swallowed. "Uh, that's in the old wing, right? I'll meet you there."
Taemin hovered for a moment, and Jinki blanched. Did he expect a hug? A bow? What was the protocol for this kind of social interaction? He couldn't exactly lean over and give Taemin a kiss in the middle of the hallway, which was exactly what he wanted to do.
Taemin smiled softly and grabbed Jinki's hand, just for a second, and gave it a squeeze. "See you soon," he whispered, and even though he hadn't said anything scandalous, the tone of his voice was like a peck on the lips.
"See you soon," Jinki whispered back.
Taemin didn't eat lunch in the cafeteria; it was probably why Jinki had never seen him outside of class until that day at the bus stop. Taemin usually practiced in the gym during lunch, he explained. Didn't have time to wait in line for cafeteria food.
"Key only practices at school on Tuesdays," Jinki said, frowning.
Taemin shifted his bag to the other shoulder. The line crawled forward, and Jinki and Taemin shuffled along. "Well, you know. There's no such thing as born talent," Taemin said, looking at his shoes, "just hard work."
"You don't have to skip practice to hang out with me," Jinki said. He rubbed the back of his neck. The line inched forward, and Taemin used the opportunity to lean into Jinki's shoulder.
"It's okay, hyung. I want to."
With a faint grin, Jinki paid for his food. He scanned the cafeteria for a table - Key and Jonghyun were near the back, probably with Sekyung and some of her friends. Jinki quickly convinced himself out of that idea. He wanted to spend time with Taemin, not have to listen to his friends bicker and crack jokes about them. Jinki looked at Taemin. "Uh, where do you want to eat?"
Taemin flashed a smile; no teeth, but his eyes turned into crescents. He grabbed Jinki's wrist and led him out of the cafeteria, down the main hall, and out onto the back field. So late in the year, the only people outside were a few members of the soccer team, kicking a ball back-and-forth. Jinki ducked his head. He had the feeling that Taesun wouldn't be too appreciative of Jinki hanging around his younger brother.
Taemin led Jinki behind the bleachers, where half-naked trees dotted the fenceline. The furthest tree was the topmost corner of a triangle; two other trees obscured the view from the field, casting the centre in shadowed privacy. Taemin walked right to the middle and sat down, smoothing his coat down to make sure it covered his butt.
"Y'know, I've been going to this school for three years and I've never been to this spot," Jinki said. In warmer weather, the trees would have been full and shady, a perfect shelter from the sun. Even this late, with the trees gone spotty and russet gold, the shade was like a wall around them. The leaves muffled the shouts from the field enough that they blended into white noise; the hum of distant activity made it seem quieter somehow. A pocket of silence.
"I found it during my first week here," Taemin said. "Beats eating in the cafeteria when the gym's being used." He didn't raise his voice louder than he needed to be heard, and Jinki matched the volume, humming his agreement. This was a place where the quiet was respected.
Taemin pulled out his lunch box and cracked the lid. It looked like a school lunch from a movie: picture-perfect egg on top of boiled rice, sausage and fish in the side compartments in neat rows. Jinki could smell the spices from where he was standing. His mother hadn't made him a boxed lunch like that since he was a kid. Feeling a little inferior with his cafeteria-bought kimbap, Jinki sat down cross-legged, brushing shoulders with Taemin.
Before Taemin started eating, he made a sign of the cross and whispered grace. Jinki watched Taemin's lips move, all breath, the final amen sounding like a sigh. Jinki felt a little awkward digging into his food without ceremony - he believed in God, but he wasn't so religious that he was going to thank Him for every meal. It's not like God had done a lot for Jinki recently anyway.
"Does that make you uncomfortable?" Taemin whispered.
"What?"
Taemin gave a knowing look - Jinki knew exactly what he was talking about, but it was only polite to feign ignorance. "The grace," Taemin clarified. "Is your family very religious?"
Jinki shook his head. "Not really, no. But it doesn't bother me that you are. I guess I just don't understand the point of it."
Taemin went quiet for a long moment, tapping the tips of his chopsticks against his lip. Jinki was pretty sure that religion was one of those topics you were supposed to avoid on a first... date? Was this a date? Did eating lunch together at school count as a date? In any case, religion seemed like small beans in comparison to other things that they already knew about each other. It was hard to imagine Taemin getting offended by the conversation when he'd let Jinki see him in girls' underwear.
"It's comforting," Taemin said at last. "Even if it doesn't make a difference, it can't hurt to try, right? Have you ever prayed for your dad?"
Jinki frowned at the thought. "No. I don't see how it would help him."
"Maybe not," Taemin agreed, "but it might help you."
Taemin was smiling when Jinki looked up, but it was a sad smile, a little self-conscious. It was an I hope I haven't said too much smile. Jinki couldn't help but wonder what it was that Taemin prayed for. Last week when he came to class haggard and sleepless and spent the lesson whispering Hail Marys under his breath - what had he been comforting himself for then?
Taemin picked at his food for a while longer, but the container was still half-full when he snapped the lid on and put it back in his bag. He leaned forward on his hands, close enough that Jinki could smell his shampoo, something sharp and citrus. "Jinki-hyung," he whispered, "you know, no one can see us from here."
Jinki could hear voices, the boys shouting on the field and the hollow thump of a sneaker connecting with a soccer ball, but Taemin was right - the trees hid them from view, shading them in relative privacy. Taemin was sitting so close, his cheek almost against Jinki's shirt, and when he tilted his head, his lips brushed Jinki's jaw.
Taemin leaned into Jinki's space until Jinki took the hint and uncrossed his legs, letting Taemin settle between his knees. Taemin pressed his lips against Jinki's, firm and needy, over and over until Jinki opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. He put a hand on the nape of Taemin's neck to hold him closer, and Taemin happily scooted forward. His mouth was hot, faintly spicy.
With his hands splayed over Jinki's shirt, Taemin pushed Jinki back to lie down on the grass. He stretched out next to him, and they spent the rest of the lunch period like that, lying side-by-side, exploring each other's mouths and touching what skin they could without removing clothes. Jinki found out that the bend of Taemin's hip was ticklish, but just the right amount of pressure from his thumbs would make Taemin groan and pitch his hips forward. Taemin kissed every part of Jinki's face, and discovered with a breathy chuckle that Jinki's ears were hyper-sensitive, and every brush of his lips sent eddies of shivers down Jinki's spine.
When the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, they reluctantly parted, both of them half-hard and flushed. Taemin had a wicked grin as he watched Jinki stand and attempt to smooth out his uniform.
"Come on," Jinki said, very conscious of Taemin's eyes on the tent in his pants. "I'll, uh, walk you to class."
For the rest of the week, when Jinki didn't have tutoring, he spent the entire hour-long lunch period with Taemin under the trees behind the bleachers. It wasn't too chilly to be outside yet, and their breath in the air only served as an excuse to sit closer, to share a jacket, to put their hands in the same pockets.
They talked about everything under the sun, but more often, they didn't say anything at all. Jinki understood without being told that this corner of the schoolground was where Taemin went for silence, a place to think, and Jinki was more than content to share the quiet with Taemin's hand curled in his. Twice, Jinki fell asleep with his head in Taemin's lap as Taemin carded fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, soothing him into a state where reality blurred and time seemed to slip by unnoticed. Taemin woke him up before the bell with a kiss like sleeping beauty, and when Jinki apologized for nodding off, Taemin shook his head. "Wish I could let you sleep longer," he said, lips against Jinki's cheek. "You look like you don't get nearly enough."
Jinki was tempted to point out that Taemin looked just as tired as he was, if not more so, but Taemin gave the impression that he wouldn't appreciate the observation.
Working on Friday nights was always the worst. It's not that Jinki was more busy or tired than other days, but the simple fact that it was the end of the week made the evening drag. Jinki caught the last possible bus from his house; no way he was showing up early on a Friday.
Jonghyun got on a few stops down. Jinki waved to him, but Jonghyun didn't wave back or crack a smile. He fell into the seat next to Jinki with a heavy sigh. He was already wearing his work uniform, the collar neat and pressed. He had his arms crossed and his chin up in the air, overacting so that Jinki wouldn't notice that he was legitimately upset about something - Jonghyun was the master of just kidding. Jinki noticed, of course. He'd known Jonghyun too long to be fooled by his theatrics.
"Hey, Jjong," Jinki said. "Your face is longer than usual."
Jonghyun mock-pouted. "Yeah, well. Your face is ugly."
A weak retort. Jonghyun must have been feeling especially bleak. Jinki gave a sympathetic look. "You feeling okay, buddy?"
For a moment, Jonghyun turned his nose up and acted like he wasn't going to say. Jinki waited him out. Jonghyun was terrible at being mad; after his initial posturing he gave in easily, wanting to get it over with so they could go back to cracking jokes. "You never hang out at lunch anymore," Jonghyun said, his voice on the edge of a whine. "How come?"
"I've been busy," Jinki started. Before he could spit out one of the many excuses he had at his disposal - tutoring, soccer, helping a teacher, studying - Jonghyun cut him off.
"Bull! Key and I saw you with Lee Taemin at lunch today."
"Then why'd you ask if you knew where I was?" Jinki said, sighing.
"I wanted to see if you'd lie! Which you did!" Jonghyun's voice was rising to a volume inappropriate even on a public bus. The people at the back could probably hear every word crystal clear over the roar of the engine. Jinki knew better than to shush Jonghyun; it only spurred him to talk louder out of spite. "So what's going on with him?" Jonghyun asked.
Jinki tried to play it off nonchalant, like, oh he's just this guy. He shrugged and mumbled, "Dunno. We've been hanging out since that party at Key's."
"Like hanging out? Or hanging out?"
"Hanging out. We've been seeing each other a lot."
"Seeing each other? Or seeing each other?"
"Uh, well, seeing each- wait. What the hell are you on about?"
"I'm trying to ask if you're with Lee Taemin. Like, with him. You know." Jonghyun made a ring of his index and thumb, and lewdly poked a finger into the gap.
Jinki stared in horror as Jonghyun repeated the gesture. "I refuse to answer your ridiculous questions until you stop acting like a grade-schooler."
Jonghyun fixed Jinki with a death glare, but stopped the hand sex, much to Jinki's relief. "Hyung. Are you ditching me for Lee Taemin because you think he's pretty and you want to do him hard and possibly sideways?"
It didn't sound like Jonghyun was making a judgement call; he'd been friends with Key for longer than Jinki. If Jonghyun was bothered by guy-on-guy, Jinki would have known about it by now. He nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah. I guess so. That sounds about right."
Jonghyun made a face. And then another face. "That's... wow. Okay, that's kinda gross, but I was expecting that. Key said as much."
"Why do you always ask about things you already know?"
Jonghyun scoffed. "Sometimes it's better to hear it straight from the horse's mouth."
"You're the one who looks like a horse," Jinki said. "Your face is so long."
"Yah!" Jonghyun sucker-punched Jinki in the shoulder, and just like that, subject dropped.
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* orabeonim is a very respectful version of oppa, really only used nowadays in historical dramas
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