Call Me Oppa (11/?)
Title: Call Me Oppa (11/?)
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 5,366w (46,567 total)
Summary: "Some people are just unlucky."
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |
Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
C H A P T E R 11
It wasn't the first time that Jinki had been over to Taemin's house, but it was the first time being there for Taemin, with no one else home. Jinki had expected Taemin's bedroom to be a lot like the inner Taemin; pink and whimsical, everything in conflicted motion. He'd expected posters tacked up with sellotape, haphazard piles of CDs on the floor near the stereo, and glossy magazines on the dresser. For some reason he'd expected it to look like a girls' bedroom, with colourful elastic bands snapped around the bedposts and a closet overflowing with clothes. He hadn't expected Taemin to open the door - "and this is my room," he'd mumbled shyly, hanging off the handle - to reveal four bare walls and pristine white carpet. The bed was a mattress and boxspring set on the floor and piled with pillows. A bookcase crowded with books and old postcards stood near the door. There was no pink, no whimsy; the room was completely devoid of anything that could be construed as feminine.
Jinki got the feeling that the decor wasn't Taemin's choosing.
Taemin breezed his way inside, pulling Jinki along with him. "Kibum took me shopping yesterday," he said, sing-song. "Do you want to see?"
"Yeah, sure." Jinki sat down on the bed and watched as Taemin delved into his closet and produced two paper retail bags. The contents were wrapped in brown paper, and Taemin rifled through one of the bags for a small package near the bottom. He peeled the tape back with his fingernail, unwrapping two bottles that clacked together in his hands.
"Which one do you like?" He asked. He presented Jinki with two bottles of nail varnish, one a dusty pink and the other fire engine red.
Jinki tapped the pink bottle. He had trouble visualizing Taemin in red; whenever he let his mind wander and fantasized, Taemin was always in pink, pale and girlish. The red seemed too strong for Taemin's hands. Jinki liked the thought of Taemin's chapstick-soft mouth touching pale pink fingers as he bobbed his head in Jinki's lap.
"I thought you'd pick that one," Taemin said. He flopped onto the bed, curling around Jinki's back, fluffing the pillows for a backrest.
"Is that all you got at the store?"
Taemin shook his head. "There's clothes, but I don't want you to see until I'm done." He pulled off his socks and propped his heels against the nightstand, flexing his toes. The nail varnish had a strong chemical smell that permeated the room the second he opened the bottle.
Jinki watched, fascinated, as Taemin held the bottle of varnish in the crook of his hand, and unscrewed the cap. He bit his tongue as he concentrated on brushing the colour across his tiny nails, a little pink slip of tongue peeking from between his teeth. When he finished all five on one foot, he blew across his toes, cheeks puffing out.
"Kibum-hyung said that early acceptance letters are going out from universities," Taemin said. He wiped the corner of his pinky toe, thumbing away a stray fleck of colour. "You applied, right?"
Jinki waited until Taemin had lifted the brush away from his nails before he flopped back onto the mattress. The ceiling overhead was stucco, stippled like the surface of unstirred cottage cheese. There were pale green spots of glow-in-the-dark paint dotted over the bed. "Yeah," Jinki said; no point in lying. "I got an acceptance letter from Seoul-dae, but I don't know if I'm going to go."
Taemin frowned over his shoulder. "Serious?"
"Well, yeah. My parents aren't staying together, and someone has to look after my dad."
"So filial," Taemin mumbled. He finished the last of his toenails and moved onto his fingers, splaying his left hand over his knee. "You shouldn't compromise your future because of that," he went on. "You'd be a lot more help to your parents by getting an education and a good job so you can look after them."
"What do you know?" Jinki snapped. He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh; he felt the flush of guilt almost immediately. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Taemin's middle, hugging him in silent apology. Taemin sighed, but didn't pull away.
"For someone so smart," Taemin said, "you aren't very bright."
Jinki didn't think that was supposed to be funny, but he laughed anyway. Taemin switched the brush to the other hand, painting left-handed with slow, careful strokes. When he coloured the last nail, he waved his hands back-and-forth. "How long does it take?" Jinki wondered. He pressed his lips to the bend of Taemin's shoulder, nipping at his collarbones. He'd spent morning classes watching Taemin suck on the end of his pencil, white teeth bending the aglet around the eraser into sharp angles, and then afternoon classes imagining Taemin sucking on other things with a lot less teeth involved. Now that they were home alone, on Taemin's bed, having to wait for paint to dry was an agonizing prospect.
"It's quick-dry," Taemin reassured him. "I just have to wait until it isn't sticky."
"You don't really need your hands..." Jinki wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Taemin laughed, covering his mouth. The glossy pink on his nails caught the light. His hands looked delicate, long fingers, carefully-shaped nails.
"Just wait," Taemin said. "Fifteen minutes. I promise it'll be worth it." He kissed the side of Jinki's jaw in promise. "Don't you trust me?"
"'Course I do."
Taemin stood up from the bed, smiling. He walked on his heels, toes bent so that they didn't touch the carpet. He picked up the retail bags, pinching the handles between the pads of his fingers. At the door, he gave Jinki a flirty wink and held up his finger - one minute.
"Hurry back."
Jinki watched Taemin pivot on his heel and head out into the hall. The bathroom door clicked shut a moment later, and Jinki rolled around on the sheets, feeling his stomach twist in anticipation. The sheets smelled like Taemin, laundry detergent and mild shampoo, something soft and sweet when Jinki pressed his face into the pillows.
He only had to wait fifteen minutes, long enough to get half-hard imagining what Taemin would look like when he came out of the bathroom. If it was Key who'd gone shopping, it could have been anything - a lacy teddy, a tiny skirt, a tee-shirt dress that Jinki could push up around Taemin's hips.
Jinki sat up fast when he heard the door. He blinked in awe at the figure leaning aginst the doorjamb, so familiar but completely strange. It was Taemin, scuffing his bare pink toes on the carpet and twirling a strand of hair around his finger, a matching pink headband tucked behind his bangs. There was dark liner on his eyelids, lashes painted long and black, and the gloss on his lips caught the light, shining wet. He had a blouse tucked into a pleated skirt, but no socks, no shoes. His bare legs went on forever, down to his delicate feet pressing shapes into the carpet.
He looked like a little schoolgirl standing on the threshold of the bedroom, fresh from study hall. Jinki swallowed heavily. "Taemin, you-"
Taemin let out a breathy laugh and shook his head back-and-forth, making his hair swish against his cheeks. "It's Taeyeon, oppa."
Right. Taeyeon. It was Taeyeon's hair swishing against his cheeks. Taeyeon's head shaking back-and-forth as he smiled small for Jinki and stepped into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him.
"Thank you for agreeing to tutor me, Jinki-oppa," Taemin murmured. His voice was soft and breathy, all air pushed through pursed lips.
"Uh." Jinki's brain scrambled to catch up to the situation - tutoring. Sure. He wasn't used to this kind of blatant roleplay, but Taemin made such a pretty schoolgirl, and Jinki wasn't about to disappoint him. "Of course, Taeyeon-ah. Come in."
Taemin sat down on the end of the bed, almost a foot between them. He rubbed his feet over the carpet, a nervous habit, and chewed his lip. Jinki slid closer, casting his eyes about for a textbook, some kind of prop to keep the scenario going. There was a calculus book on the nightstand, and Jinki grabbed it and flipped to a random page. Taemin covered his mouth, smirking - he was a thousand times better than Jinki at differential calculus, but apparently, today, Taeyeon would need help with the subject. Taemin slid over, close enough that his thigh pressed into Jinki's. "Where should we start, oppa?"
Jinki pointed to a random line. Who cared where? He couldn't think of anything but the slow slide of Taemin's skin as he rubbed his thighs together, the skirt hiking up to flash a few inches of skin above his knees. Jinki wondered if he was wearing underwear, maybe those green boyshorts, maybe nothing at all. He couldn't decide which was sexier. "How about question three?"
"And what do I get if I get it right?" Taemin asked, and then he giggled. Giggled. It was high-pitched, ending on a higher note than it started, impossibly girly. He blushed, covering his mouth like he couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud. "I'm sorry, oppa," he said. "It's just that... my friends are all jealous of me. We come to cheer you on during soccer practice sometimes. You look so cool on the field when you play."
Wow, Taemin was really laying it on thick. Jinki tried to settle into his role as easily as Taemin had, but he felt a little stupid, like this was playing pretend - it is, isn't it? Jinki had liked imaginary games as a kid; he could remember using sticks as guns with Jonghyun when they were both young, shouting out a narrative between them, but the moment an adult walked on the scene they would drop the act and find something else. Playing pretend had seemed so juvenile, even then, something that only very young children did.
Taemin was looking at Jinki expectantly, blinking his thick eyelashes and chewing on a glossy lip. He shifted slightly, and the light caught glitter on his skin, shining in the dips and hollows of his collarbones. "Oppa?" He prompted.
Jinki swallowed. "Get the question right and you'll find out," he said.
Taemin tilted his head to the side, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Go on, question three."
With a nod, Taemin pulled the book onto his lap. Jinki almost groaned as the textbook covered the bare skin on his thighs. Taemin glanced at the question, and for a moment he seemed to fall out of character and become the same Taemin from school, teeth dragging over his lower lip as he mulled the numbers over in his mind. Jinki was about to stop him - you don't actually have to answer the question, pabo - but Taemin traced the equations out with his finger. He smiled and whispered in his airy, girly voice, "The first derivative is dy/dx equals..."
Jinki didn't let him finish - he had the right answer anyway, he always did. He cut him off with a kiss, and Taemin squeaked in surprise, like he really hadn't been expecting it, and slowly relaxed into Jinki's arms. Jinki sucked hard on Taemin's lips, rolling his lower lip between his teeth and sucking the breath right from his mouth. Taemin moaned, and slid closer to Jinki on the bed, almost onto his lap.
"Oppa," Taemin whispered. "I've never... I'm nervous."
It took a moment for Jinki to understand what that meant. Taeyeon, this feminine face, was untouched. New territory. Taemin had never had sex in drag. Jinki grabbed the leg that was furthest from him and tugged, guiding Taemin to straddle his lap, facing him. He could feel Taemin half-hard, pressing against his stomach, and although he was obviously excited, Jinki could feel him shaking with nerves.
"Taeyeon-ah," he whispered. "Relax. I'll be good to you, I promise."
When Taemin tossed his head, the strands of hair that were just long enough to touch his lips stuck to the gloss for a second, long enough for Jinki to feel it trapped between their lips before the hair slipped loose. Taemin tasted like strawberry candy-flavoured lip gloss. There were specks of glitter all over Taemin's skin, on his eyelids, in the hollows of his collarbones and the insides of his arms.
The first few buttons on his shirt were undone, and Jinki popped the next few right away. With his eyes half-lidded, he could squint and imagine that this really was a girl sitting on his lap, blushing and pressing her hipbones into his stomach. Jinki pulled open the top of Taemin’s blouse to expose the dramatic plane of his collar, the shirt framing a V down his flat chest. Taemin rocked his hips and whimpered, mouth rounding out, “Ohhhhh-ppa.”
Jinki put his arms around Taemin’s waist. One hand snaked lower to grab a handful of ass, and Taemin curved the small of his back. He didn’t have the roundest ass, but there was enough to grab onto. And even better, under the pleated skirt Taemin was wearing a thong. Jinki hiked up the skirt, and there was bare flesh under his fingers. He slipped his thumb under the thong, stroking along Taemin’s crack.
Taemin shuddered. "Jinki, please-”
His breath stuttered to a stop as Jinki stroked his finger over Taemin’s hole, feather-light, a dry touch. “Don’t worry, Taeyeon-ah,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet first.”
"Oh, oppa, oh yes, please."
Jinki twisted, one hand cradled behind Taemin's head, and lowered them to the mattress. He settled between Taemin's thighs and kissed him again, long and wet, plenty of tongue to give Taemin a tease of what else Jinki's tongue could be doing. Taemin panted and nipped at Jinki's lips, his long nails scraping over the nape of Jinki's neck and tangling in his hair.
Jinki held onto the backs of Taemin's knees, guiding him to lift up and spread his legs wide. He kissed his way down Taemin's body, nuzzling the blouse open to pepper butterfly kisses across his ribcage and ticklish belly, and then Jinki lifted the skirt, bunching it up around Taemin's hips. Taemin was fully hard now, straining against the tiny underwear.
"These are cute," Jinki whispered, lips against the bend of Taemin's groin. The thong was white and patterned with rounded hearts - so Taemin, girly and sexy all at once. He mouthed the bulge beneath the cotton, but Taemin squirmed away, knees coming together, pressing Jinki's head between his thighs.
"Jinki, don't-"
"Okay, Taeyeon-ah," Jinki whispered quickly. He kissed higher, above Taemin's pubic bone, trying to keep his breath steady and reassuring. "It's okay, I won't."
Slowly, Jinki coaxed Taemin to relax his legs. Taemin's breath caught when Jinki tugged on the underwear, eyes squeezed shut, but he let Jinki pull the thong down his legs. His chest heaved, and he watched Jinki through the curtain of his bangs as Jinki wiggled further down the bed. Jinki nipped lightly at the insides of Taemin's thighs, listening to his breath hitch, trying not to laugh. He whined when Jinki parted his cheeks, and he rolled his tailbone, spread open for Jinki to see.
Jinki lapped lightly at Taemin's hole, smiling at the sharp intake of breath before Taemin fisted his hand into his mouth. Jinki licked around the ring of muscle with a pointed tongue, and then prodded gently at the centre. Taemin tasted like soap and sweat, a little bitter, but not unpleasant - the way that his skin twitched with every little flick of Jinki's tongue was gratifying. Jinki prodded harder, and Taemin gasped and groaned and arched his hips.
"Oppa," he begged, almost singing, his voice high and whining. His hand snaked down into the gap between the bed and the wall, and he produced a bottle of lubricant, nearly brand new. He pushed it eagerly into Jinki's hands. "Fuck me now," he hissed, and Jinki swooned at the sound of Taemin cussing, dressed like an innocent little girl with curse-words falling from his glossy lips. "Use lots," Taemin said. His hands were fisted into the sheets, and he kicked his legs around Jinki's waist, trying to guide him up.
"Okay, hold on, Taeyeon-ah." Jinki chuckled at Taemin's eagerness; he barely gave Jinki enough space to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down to his knees. Jinki squeezed what felt like half the bottle into his hand, and rubbed the lube thick over his cock and wiped the rest between Taemin's cheeks, trying to get most of it over his hole. Jinki braced one arm by Taemin's head, and used his other hand to guide his cock between Taemin's thighs. Taemin gasped at the first prod of Jinki's cock. Jinki groaned; Taemin was so tight, and he looked divine with his face scrunched up in pleasure-pain, his shoulders pressed into the pillows as he shifted and Jinki slid in deeper. "Fuck, Tae," Jinki moaned. "You feel so good."
Taemin played it up, writhing and moaning with his voice breathy and high-pitched. His back arched off the bed when Jinki finally sank into him completely, both of them so slathered in lube that there was hardly any friction, just wet slide.
Like fucking a girl.
Jinki didn't want to move too fast, partly worried that Taemin would hurt, but mostly worried that he'd blow too soon. Taemin hooked his ankles behind Jinki's back, and his arms around Jinki's neck, pulling him down, pressing his mouth, needy and insistent, against Jinki's. Jinki could barely keep a pace; every thrust into Taemin's body made a loud wet sound, and that coupled with Taemin's breathy panting was the hottest sound that Jinki had ever heard.
"Oppa, I'm so... god, I'm so close." Taemin lifted his hips, pressing his erection between their stomachs. Jinki didn't want to ruin the illusion and have a repeat of the last time they'd gone this far, but judging by the depserate, near-pained look on his face, Taemin needed something to bring him that last inch over the edge.
"Can I help you, pretty baby?" Jinki panted, and Taemin whined, bucking his hips, whispering under his breath, please please please. "Want me to rub your clit, Taeyeon-ah?"
Taemin made a sound close to a sob, and Jinki took that as a yes. He reached between their bodies and curled his fingers around Taemin's erection, rubbing his thumb over the slit, letting his fingers sit loose so that every thrust he made into Taemin's hole made Taemin's hips rise and mimic the action into his fist. It didn't take long before Taemin was gasping and shuddering, every muscle clenching as he came hard into Jinki's hand.
Jinki wiped his hand on the skin of Taemin's stomach, smearing sticky come across his belly, and braced his arms on the pillows, making a cage around Taemin's head as he bucked his hips faster, so fucking close. Taemin's eyelashes fluttered and he tilted his chin up to press his teeth against Jinki's chin, licking at his lips, and Jinki tangled his fingers into Taemin's hair, knocking the headband askew, as he finally came. He bit down hard on his lip, vision going white, and pressed as close as he could, every hair standing on end and every nerve going haywire. Taemin mumbled something, oppa, you're on my hair, and Jinki rolled them onto their sides, pulling out slow.
"Sorry," he whispered, but Taemin was smiling at him, a Chesire grin. He looked so debauched with mascara smeared under his eyes like a racoon, hair mussed, his skin and the sheets covered in glitter. He stretched his arms over his head, and Jinki swallowed at the sight of Taemin's come glistening on his stomach. "We should, uh, clean up," Jinki said.
Taemin stuck his tongue out, but all the same he got on all fours and climbed over Jinki, legs wobbly as he stood up. "I'll be right back, oppa," he said. He straightened his skirt, and padded into the hall for a towel.
"Am I the first boy you've had sex with?" Taemin wondered, flopping onto the bed. He'd changed into an oversized tee shirt and sweats, drowning in the baggy clothes; Jinki kind of missed the skirt and button-up, all that exposed skin. Most of the makeup had been wiped off of Taemin's face, but there was still black rimmed around his eyes, and specks of glitter on his skin.
Jinki shrugged. "Like that, yeah. I've fooled around before, but never... you know. Never gone all the way. You?"
Taemin made a face. "A couple times, before we moved here."
"Really?"
Taemin hesitated for the space of a breath. "Yeah. I... wasn't really ready," he said carefully. "I liked what we just did a lot more."
Jinki shifted until he could feel Taemin's hot breath against his collarbone and asked, "You didn't like it before?"
Taemin sighed into Jinki's shirt. "Not really. I'd pretend to be asleep until he was right up close trying to kiss me."
"Who?" Jinki asked, trying to put the scene together in his mind. He pictured Taemin a little younger than he was now, different hair, eyelashes looking freakishly long against his baby-chubby cheeks. The other figure was just a dark shadow for now, lingering near the bedside.
Taemin breathed out. It was a long moment before he inhaled again. "One of Taesun's friends. He used to stay over a lot." He winced at a memory, and then kept talking to keep Jinki from asking another question - Jinki had his mouth open, breath drawn to ask, but decided against interrupting again. "I was kind of curious, you know? So I didn't really protest or anything. He'd crawl into bed with me after Taesun fell asleep, and then..."
Jinki felt his heart hammering in his chest as Taemin told the story: Taesun's friend would pull back the sheets and press against Taemin's skinny body, reaching between his legs, pinching, squeezing, and then he'd guide Taemin's hand to touch his erection, hard and thick in Taemin's palms. He'd spit on his fingers and press them into Taemin's hole, too hard, too fast, and Taemin would whimper, trying to be quiet. "He always asked if I liked it," Taemin recalled. "Kept asking, like he really wanted to know, but when I said 'no' he just laughed and told me to give it a minute. I'd really like it in a minute." Taesun's friend would put his hands in the crooks of Taemin's knees and then he'd spit and spit - "hocked up a loogie in his hand," Taemin said with a shudder - and when he pushed his cock inside, Taemin thought that he'd burst apart. It felt like ripping. Like his lower body became this separate part of him, every nerve twitching in pain. He tried to go somewhere else; he'd practice math problems in his head, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
Taemin trailed off with a shrug. "It hurt like hell. I didn't stop crying until he left the room."
Jinki didn't understand the anger he felt; he didn't know where to direct it. "And once he left?"
"I wiped my face and went to sleep." Taemin kicked at the sheets and then pulled them up, catching air underneath so that it billowed and covered the both of them, slowly settling. "One time, in the morning there was dried blood all down my legs. I cleaned up and then my dad took me and Taesun out for breakfast after church."
Jinki pictured Taemin standing in the bathroom, sopping the blood off of his legs with damp toilet paper, in a near-panic while his father and brother paced impatiently by the door in their Sunday best. Jinki pulled Taemin close and kissed the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, Taemin."
Taemin smiled against Jinki's chest. "Not your fault," he mumbled. His lips made a wet mark a few inches below Jinki's collarbone. "Some people are just unlucky."
Jinki didn't know what to say to that.
"Are you hungry?" Taemin asked. He sat up, all sudden smiles. "I'm hungry. Let's go find something to eat."
Jinki watched Taemin bustling around the kitchen, rifling through cupboards in search of food that didn't require too much effort - "I'm not the best cook," Taemin admitted, flushing red, "but I like to do it."
He could have made gruel and Jinki wouldn't mind; Taemin looked beautiful with his sweats slung low on his hips, tee shirt rippling over his shoulderblades as he reached into the pantry. Jinki sidled up behind him, unable to keep his hands to himself. He wrapped his arms around Taemin's waist and pulled him into a close backhug, backing them up to the table. "Taemin-ah," he breathed, making sure that he whispered right into the shell of Taemin's ear, sending a shiver chasing down his spine.
Taemin smiled, twisting around to face Jinki, and whispered back, "Oppa?"
Jinki was about to lift Taemin onto the table when something slammed in the other room. There was a shuffling, and then-
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Taemin sprang back fast, nearly kicking over a chair. The scraping sound it made over the ceramic was ear-splitting. Jinki tried to school his face into an expression that didn't look guilty, that didn't spell out, we were about to rub crotches.
Taesun stood at the threshold of the kitchen. His eyes were wide, lip curled; he hadn't yelled, had hissed in a loud stage-whisper, but his hands were clenched into tight fists. He was eyeing Jinki like he had half a mind to punch him. Jinki thought he could see smoke wafting off of him; Taesun looked livid. "I said," Taesun repeated, "what the fuck are you doing to my brother?"
Jinki opened his mouth, scrambling for some explanation, but what could he say? I just happened to come over to your house on a Friday afternoon and felt like grinding your brother against a table. No reason. Totally innocent.
Taemin had shoved his hands into his pockets, and Jinki could see his fingers moving as he chipped at the nailpolish. Taesun looked from Jinki to Taemin, as though he would come up with a better answer than silence. Taemin didn't say anything.
"What the fuck," Taesun said. He crossed his arms and chewed his lip, a habit so reminiscent of Taemin, but somehow nothing like him at all - there wasn't anything playful about the gesture, nothing shy; Taesun was thinking hard, expression firm. "Taemin-ah," he said finally, and Taemin mumbled that he heard but kept his eyes fixed on the floor. "Did you invite him over?"
Taemin nodded.
For a moment, Taesun looked unsure, his eyes flickering from Taemin's guilty face to Jinki's crossed arms. Taesun looked doubtful for a moment. Jinki could almost see the thoughts as they flickered through his head: it had certainly looked like they were about to kiss when Taesun came in, but he knew Jinki - they played soccer together - and certainly no teammate could be gay. Maybe Jinki had come over to help Taemin with his homework. Maybe they'd just happened to be standing too-close in the kitchen with messy hair and puffy lips. And hard-ons.
Taesun shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at Taemin. "You're seriously messed up, you know that?" He said.
Taemin frowned at his feet.
"If I see," Taesun struggled for a word to summarize what he'd just witnessed. "If I see this again, I'm telling Dad."
Taemin didn't look up until Taesun had left to go upstairs and they heard the click of his door close. Taemin pulled his hands out of his pockets, the pink ragged and chipped, and then shook his head like he could shake off the bad feeling. He went over to the counter and examined his nails under the stove light. He'd chipped most of the nail varnish away, so that there were only several ragged patches of pink on his nails. He picked at his pinky, peeling away the varnish to reveal the bare nail underneath.
Taesun was staring at Jinki out of the corner of his eye. He didn't look away even when Jinki made it apparent that he was aware he was being stared at. Taesun met his gaze, unflinching, without blinking. It was a little creepy - more so because they were in the change room and surrounded by nine other half-naked guys.
After a long uncomfortable minute, Jinki took the bait. "What're you looking at?"
Taesun made a face. He didn't bother lowering his voice to keep the others from overhearing. "Just trying to figure out what the hell you were doing at my house this weekend."
The rest of the team was all-ears, the need for a shower momentarily forgotten as Taesun raised his hackles and took a few threatening steps towards Jinki. All eyes were on Jinki, waiting for the response. "And what did you see?" Jinki asked; he didn't want to admit to something and have it blow up in Taemin's face later on.
"You were all over my brother," Taesun said. "He was grinning like an idiot. You know what he's like, don't you?"
"Like-"
"Jinki-hyung~" Taesun sing-songed, a scathing imitation of that breathy, girlish voice that Taemin used. "Hyung is so helpful in math class! Please take care of me, hyung!" Taesun crossed his arms and looked Jinki straight in the eyes. "He's like this, Jinki. Why are you playing into it?"
"I'm not, I'm just-"
"Just don't encourage him."
Jinki frowned. Encourage him?
"He's messed in the head," Taesun said, gesturing. "He likes you like a girl would. If you keep treating him like that, he's going to think that you..."
The midfielders were already snickering. The forward had his head turned, but Jinki could see his shoulders bouncing up-and-down as he tried to muffle his laughter into his fist.
Taesun had a look of disgust on his face, as though the realization had just come to him. "Jinki... you're not like that are you? You're not-"
"Jinki-hyung is no fag!" It was Minho who came to Jinki's defense, scowling. He held his towel in one hand, trailing on the floor like he intended to use it as a weapon if it came to that. And just like that, the tension was broken. The rest of the team went back to undressing, laughing amongst themselves. Ha ha ha, Jinki a queer! As if!
"Even if he was hitting on your brother," the forward said, kicking off his cleats, "your brother looks so much like a girl that it wouldn't even count. Does he even have a dick under there? Or is he hiding a hole?"
Taesun's face was visibly paling. His hands were balled into fists.
"Knock it off, guys," Jinki said.
"I wouldn't mind finding out," said one of the midfielders. "Someone that pretty seriously can't be a dude."
Taesun looked at Jinki, but his expression was unreadable. Part-anger, part-resignation. Jinki tried his best at offering an apologetic shrug, but Taesun stormed off into the showers alone. In his absence, the theorizing about Taemin's genitalia only got more and more vulgar - if he turned out to be a girl, I'd rape him for sure... if not? Then, fuck, he deserves to get roughed up a bit for turning out to be a trap!
Jinki shuddered, remembering the way Taemin had sounded so resigned when he told Jinki about Taesun's friend raping him in his own bed. Like that kind of thing just happened. "You guys are sick," Jinki said, shaking his head. He pulled on a shirt and shouldered his backpack, not in the mood to linger.
The boys took time out of their discussion to wave, but even after the door shut behind him, Jinki could still hear their voices echoing around the room.
He's got pretty lips for a boy; probably sucked a lot of cock.
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wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 5,366w (46,567 total)
Summary: "Some people are just unlucky."
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |
Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
C H A P T E R 11
It wasn't the first time that Jinki had been over to Taemin's house, but it was the first time being there for Taemin, with no one else home. Jinki had expected Taemin's bedroom to be a lot like the inner Taemin; pink and whimsical, everything in conflicted motion. He'd expected posters tacked up with sellotape, haphazard piles of CDs on the floor near the stereo, and glossy magazines on the dresser. For some reason he'd expected it to look like a girls' bedroom, with colourful elastic bands snapped around the bedposts and a closet overflowing with clothes. He hadn't expected Taemin to open the door - "and this is my room," he'd mumbled shyly, hanging off the handle - to reveal four bare walls and pristine white carpet. The bed was a mattress and boxspring set on the floor and piled with pillows. A bookcase crowded with books and old postcards stood near the door. There was no pink, no whimsy; the room was completely devoid of anything that could be construed as feminine.
Jinki got the feeling that the decor wasn't Taemin's choosing.
Taemin breezed his way inside, pulling Jinki along with him. "Kibum took me shopping yesterday," he said, sing-song. "Do you want to see?"
"Yeah, sure." Jinki sat down on the bed and watched as Taemin delved into his closet and produced two paper retail bags. The contents were wrapped in brown paper, and Taemin rifled through one of the bags for a small package near the bottom. He peeled the tape back with his fingernail, unwrapping two bottles that clacked together in his hands.
"Which one do you like?" He asked. He presented Jinki with two bottles of nail varnish, one a dusty pink and the other fire engine red.
Jinki tapped the pink bottle. He had trouble visualizing Taemin in red; whenever he let his mind wander and fantasized, Taemin was always in pink, pale and girlish. The red seemed too strong for Taemin's hands. Jinki liked the thought of Taemin's chapstick-soft mouth touching pale pink fingers as he bobbed his head in Jinki's lap.
"I thought you'd pick that one," Taemin said. He flopped onto the bed, curling around Jinki's back, fluffing the pillows for a backrest.
"Is that all you got at the store?"
Taemin shook his head. "There's clothes, but I don't want you to see until I'm done." He pulled off his socks and propped his heels against the nightstand, flexing his toes. The nail varnish had a strong chemical smell that permeated the room the second he opened the bottle.
Jinki watched, fascinated, as Taemin held the bottle of varnish in the crook of his hand, and unscrewed the cap. He bit his tongue as he concentrated on brushing the colour across his tiny nails, a little pink slip of tongue peeking from between his teeth. When he finished all five on one foot, he blew across his toes, cheeks puffing out.
"Kibum-hyung said that early acceptance letters are going out from universities," Taemin said. He wiped the corner of his pinky toe, thumbing away a stray fleck of colour. "You applied, right?"
Jinki waited until Taemin had lifted the brush away from his nails before he flopped back onto the mattress. The ceiling overhead was stucco, stippled like the surface of unstirred cottage cheese. There were pale green spots of glow-in-the-dark paint dotted over the bed. "Yeah," Jinki said; no point in lying. "I got an acceptance letter from Seoul-dae, but I don't know if I'm going to go."
Taemin frowned over his shoulder. "Serious?"
"Well, yeah. My parents aren't staying together, and someone has to look after my dad."
"So filial," Taemin mumbled. He finished the last of his toenails and moved onto his fingers, splaying his left hand over his knee. "You shouldn't compromise your future because of that," he went on. "You'd be a lot more help to your parents by getting an education and a good job so you can look after them."
"What do you know?" Jinki snapped. He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh; he felt the flush of guilt almost immediately. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Taemin's middle, hugging him in silent apology. Taemin sighed, but didn't pull away.
"For someone so smart," Taemin said, "you aren't very bright."
Jinki didn't think that was supposed to be funny, but he laughed anyway. Taemin switched the brush to the other hand, painting left-handed with slow, careful strokes. When he coloured the last nail, he waved his hands back-and-forth. "How long does it take?" Jinki wondered. He pressed his lips to the bend of Taemin's shoulder, nipping at his collarbones. He'd spent morning classes watching Taemin suck on the end of his pencil, white teeth bending the aglet around the eraser into sharp angles, and then afternoon classes imagining Taemin sucking on other things with a lot less teeth involved. Now that they were home alone, on Taemin's bed, having to wait for paint to dry was an agonizing prospect.
"It's quick-dry," Taemin reassured him. "I just have to wait until it isn't sticky."
"You don't really need your hands..." Jinki wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Taemin laughed, covering his mouth. The glossy pink on his nails caught the light. His hands looked delicate, long fingers, carefully-shaped nails.
"Just wait," Taemin said. "Fifteen minutes. I promise it'll be worth it." He kissed the side of Jinki's jaw in promise. "Don't you trust me?"
"'Course I do."
Taemin stood up from the bed, smiling. He walked on his heels, toes bent so that they didn't touch the carpet. He picked up the retail bags, pinching the handles between the pads of his fingers. At the door, he gave Jinki a flirty wink and held up his finger - one minute.
"Hurry back."
Jinki watched Taemin pivot on his heel and head out into the hall. The bathroom door clicked shut a moment later, and Jinki rolled around on the sheets, feeling his stomach twist in anticipation. The sheets smelled like Taemin, laundry detergent and mild shampoo, something soft and sweet when Jinki pressed his face into the pillows.
He only had to wait fifteen minutes, long enough to get half-hard imagining what Taemin would look like when he came out of the bathroom. If it was Key who'd gone shopping, it could have been anything - a lacy teddy, a tiny skirt, a tee-shirt dress that Jinki could push up around Taemin's hips.
Jinki sat up fast when he heard the door. He blinked in awe at the figure leaning aginst the doorjamb, so familiar but completely strange. It was Taemin, scuffing his bare pink toes on the carpet and twirling a strand of hair around his finger, a matching pink headband tucked behind his bangs. There was dark liner on his eyelids, lashes painted long and black, and the gloss on his lips caught the light, shining wet. He had a blouse tucked into a pleated skirt, but no socks, no shoes. His bare legs went on forever, down to his delicate feet pressing shapes into the carpet.
He looked like a little schoolgirl standing on the threshold of the bedroom, fresh from study hall. Jinki swallowed heavily. "Taemin, you-"
Taemin let out a breathy laugh and shook his head back-and-forth, making his hair swish against his cheeks. "It's Taeyeon, oppa."
Right. Taeyeon. It was Taeyeon's hair swishing against his cheeks. Taeyeon's head shaking back-and-forth as he smiled small for Jinki and stepped into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him.
"Thank you for agreeing to tutor me, Jinki-oppa," Taemin murmured. His voice was soft and breathy, all air pushed through pursed lips.
"Uh." Jinki's brain scrambled to catch up to the situation - tutoring. Sure. He wasn't used to this kind of blatant roleplay, but Taemin made such a pretty schoolgirl, and Jinki wasn't about to disappoint him. "Of course, Taeyeon-ah. Come in."
Taemin sat down on the end of the bed, almost a foot between them. He rubbed his feet over the carpet, a nervous habit, and chewed his lip. Jinki slid closer, casting his eyes about for a textbook, some kind of prop to keep the scenario going. There was a calculus book on the nightstand, and Jinki grabbed it and flipped to a random page. Taemin covered his mouth, smirking - he was a thousand times better than Jinki at differential calculus, but apparently, today, Taeyeon would need help with the subject. Taemin slid over, close enough that his thigh pressed into Jinki's. "Where should we start, oppa?"
Jinki pointed to a random line. Who cared where? He couldn't think of anything but the slow slide of Taemin's skin as he rubbed his thighs together, the skirt hiking up to flash a few inches of skin above his knees. Jinki wondered if he was wearing underwear, maybe those green boyshorts, maybe nothing at all. He couldn't decide which was sexier. "How about question three?"
"And what do I get if I get it right?" Taemin asked, and then he giggled. Giggled. It was high-pitched, ending on a higher note than it started, impossibly girly. He blushed, covering his mouth like he couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud. "I'm sorry, oppa," he said. "It's just that... my friends are all jealous of me. We come to cheer you on during soccer practice sometimes. You look so cool on the field when you play."
Wow, Taemin was really laying it on thick. Jinki tried to settle into his role as easily as Taemin had, but he felt a little stupid, like this was playing pretend - it is, isn't it? Jinki had liked imaginary games as a kid; he could remember using sticks as guns with Jonghyun when they were both young, shouting out a narrative between them, but the moment an adult walked on the scene they would drop the act and find something else. Playing pretend had seemed so juvenile, even then, something that only very young children did.
Taemin was looking at Jinki expectantly, blinking his thick eyelashes and chewing on a glossy lip. He shifted slightly, and the light caught glitter on his skin, shining in the dips and hollows of his collarbones. "Oppa?" He prompted.
Jinki swallowed. "Get the question right and you'll find out," he said.
Taemin tilted his head to the side, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Go on, question three."
With a nod, Taemin pulled the book onto his lap. Jinki almost groaned as the textbook covered the bare skin on his thighs. Taemin glanced at the question, and for a moment he seemed to fall out of character and become the same Taemin from school, teeth dragging over his lower lip as he mulled the numbers over in his mind. Jinki was about to stop him - you don't actually have to answer the question, pabo - but Taemin traced the equations out with his finger. He smiled and whispered in his airy, girly voice, "The first derivative is dy/dx equals..."
Jinki didn't let him finish - he had the right answer anyway, he always did. He cut him off with a kiss, and Taemin squeaked in surprise, like he really hadn't been expecting it, and slowly relaxed into Jinki's arms. Jinki sucked hard on Taemin's lips, rolling his lower lip between his teeth and sucking the breath right from his mouth. Taemin moaned, and slid closer to Jinki on the bed, almost onto his lap.
"Oppa," Taemin whispered. "I've never... I'm nervous."
It took a moment for Jinki to understand what that meant. Taeyeon, this feminine face, was untouched. New territory. Taemin had never had sex in drag. Jinki grabbed the leg that was furthest from him and tugged, guiding Taemin to straddle his lap, facing him. He could feel Taemin half-hard, pressing against his stomach, and although he was obviously excited, Jinki could feel him shaking with nerves.
"Taeyeon-ah," he whispered. "Relax. I'll be good to you, I promise."
When Taemin tossed his head, the strands of hair that were just long enough to touch his lips stuck to the gloss for a second, long enough for Jinki to feel it trapped between their lips before the hair slipped loose. Taemin tasted like strawberry candy-flavoured lip gloss. There were specks of glitter all over Taemin's skin, on his eyelids, in the hollows of his collarbones and the insides of his arms.
The first few buttons on his shirt were undone, and Jinki popped the next few right away. With his eyes half-lidded, he could squint and imagine that this really was a girl sitting on his lap, blushing and pressing her hipbones into his stomach. Jinki pulled open the top of Taemin’s blouse to expose the dramatic plane of his collar, the shirt framing a V down his flat chest. Taemin rocked his hips and whimpered, mouth rounding out, “Ohhhhh-ppa.”
Jinki put his arms around Taemin’s waist. One hand snaked lower to grab a handful of ass, and Taemin curved the small of his back. He didn’t have the roundest ass, but there was enough to grab onto. And even better, under the pleated skirt Taemin was wearing a thong. Jinki hiked up the skirt, and there was bare flesh under his fingers. He slipped his thumb under the thong, stroking along Taemin’s crack.
Taemin shuddered. "Jinki, please-”
His breath stuttered to a stop as Jinki stroked his finger over Taemin’s hole, feather-light, a dry touch. “Don’t worry, Taeyeon-ah,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet first.”
"Oh, oppa, oh yes, please."
Jinki twisted, one hand cradled behind Taemin's head, and lowered them to the mattress. He settled between Taemin's thighs and kissed him again, long and wet, plenty of tongue to give Taemin a tease of what else Jinki's tongue could be doing. Taemin panted and nipped at Jinki's lips, his long nails scraping over the nape of Jinki's neck and tangling in his hair.
Jinki held onto the backs of Taemin's knees, guiding him to lift up and spread his legs wide. He kissed his way down Taemin's body, nuzzling the blouse open to pepper butterfly kisses across his ribcage and ticklish belly, and then Jinki lifted the skirt, bunching it up around Taemin's hips. Taemin was fully hard now, straining against the tiny underwear.
"These are cute," Jinki whispered, lips against the bend of Taemin's groin. The thong was white and patterned with rounded hearts - so Taemin, girly and sexy all at once. He mouthed the bulge beneath the cotton, but Taemin squirmed away, knees coming together, pressing Jinki's head between his thighs.
"Jinki, don't-"
"Okay, Taeyeon-ah," Jinki whispered quickly. He kissed higher, above Taemin's pubic bone, trying to keep his breath steady and reassuring. "It's okay, I won't."
Slowly, Jinki coaxed Taemin to relax his legs. Taemin's breath caught when Jinki tugged on the underwear, eyes squeezed shut, but he let Jinki pull the thong down his legs. His chest heaved, and he watched Jinki through the curtain of his bangs as Jinki wiggled further down the bed. Jinki nipped lightly at the insides of Taemin's thighs, listening to his breath hitch, trying not to laugh. He whined when Jinki parted his cheeks, and he rolled his tailbone, spread open for Jinki to see.
Jinki lapped lightly at Taemin's hole, smiling at the sharp intake of breath before Taemin fisted his hand into his mouth. Jinki licked around the ring of muscle with a pointed tongue, and then prodded gently at the centre. Taemin tasted like soap and sweat, a little bitter, but not unpleasant - the way that his skin twitched with every little flick of Jinki's tongue was gratifying. Jinki prodded harder, and Taemin gasped and groaned and arched his hips.
"Oppa," he begged, almost singing, his voice high and whining. His hand snaked down into the gap between the bed and the wall, and he produced a bottle of lubricant, nearly brand new. He pushed it eagerly into Jinki's hands. "Fuck me now," he hissed, and Jinki swooned at the sound of Taemin cussing, dressed like an innocent little girl with curse-words falling from his glossy lips. "Use lots," Taemin said. His hands were fisted into the sheets, and he kicked his legs around Jinki's waist, trying to guide him up.
"Okay, hold on, Taeyeon-ah." Jinki chuckled at Taemin's eagerness; he barely gave Jinki enough space to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down to his knees. Jinki squeezed what felt like half the bottle into his hand, and rubbed the lube thick over his cock and wiped the rest between Taemin's cheeks, trying to get most of it over his hole. Jinki braced one arm by Taemin's head, and used his other hand to guide his cock between Taemin's thighs. Taemin gasped at the first prod of Jinki's cock. Jinki groaned; Taemin was so tight, and he looked divine with his face scrunched up in pleasure-pain, his shoulders pressed into the pillows as he shifted and Jinki slid in deeper. "Fuck, Tae," Jinki moaned. "You feel so good."
Taemin played it up, writhing and moaning with his voice breathy and high-pitched. His back arched off the bed when Jinki finally sank into him completely, both of them so slathered in lube that there was hardly any friction, just wet slide.
Like fucking a girl.
Jinki didn't want to move too fast, partly worried that Taemin would hurt, but mostly worried that he'd blow too soon. Taemin hooked his ankles behind Jinki's back, and his arms around Jinki's neck, pulling him down, pressing his mouth, needy and insistent, against Jinki's. Jinki could barely keep a pace; every thrust into Taemin's body made a loud wet sound, and that coupled with Taemin's breathy panting was the hottest sound that Jinki had ever heard.
"Oppa, I'm so... god, I'm so close." Taemin lifted his hips, pressing his erection between their stomachs. Jinki didn't want to ruin the illusion and have a repeat of the last time they'd gone this far, but judging by the depserate, near-pained look on his face, Taemin needed something to bring him that last inch over the edge.
"Can I help you, pretty baby?" Jinki panted, and Taemin whined, bucking his hips, whispering under his breath, please please please. "Want me to rub your clit, Taeyeon-ah?"
Taemin made a sound close to a sob, and Jinki took that as a yes. He reached between their bodies and curled his fingers around Taemin's erection, rubbing his thumb over the slit, letting his fingers sit loose so that every thrust he made into Taemin's hole made Taemin's hips rise and mimic the action into his fist. It didn't take long before Taemin was gasping and shuddering, every muscle clenching as he came hard into Jinki's hand.
Jinki wiped his hand on the skin of Taemin's stomach, smearing sticky come across his belly, and braced his arms on the pillows, making a cage around Taemin's head as he bucked his hips faster, so fucking close. Taemin's eyelashes fluttered and he tilted his chin up to press his teeth against Jinki's chin, licking at his lips, and Jinki tangled his fingers into Taemin's hair, knocking the headband askew, as he finally came. He bit down hard on his lip, vision going white, and pressed as close as he could, every hair standing on end and every nerve going haywire. Taemin mumbled something, oppa, you're on my hair, and Jinki rolled them onto their sides, pulling out slow.
"Sorry," he whispered, but Taemin was smiling at him, a Chesire grin. He looked so debauched with mascara smeared under his eyes like a racoon, hair mussed, his skin and the sheets covered in glitter. He stretched his arms over his head, and Jinki swallowed at the sight of Taemin's come glistening on his stomach. "We should, uh, clean up," Jinki said.
Taemin stuck his tongue out, but all the same he got on all fours and climbed over Jinki, legs wobbly as he stood up. "I'll be right back, oppa," he said. He straightened his skirt, and padded into the hall for a towel.
"Am I the first boy you've had sex with?" Taemin wondered, flopping onto the bed. He'd changed into an oversized tee shirt and sweats, drowning in the baggy clothes; Jinki kind of missed the skirt and button-up, all that exposed skin. Most of the makeup had been wiped off of Taemin's face, but there was still black rimmed around his eyes, and specks of glitter on his skin.
Jinki shrugged. "Like that, yeah. I've fooled around before, but never... you know. Never gone all the way. You?"
Taemin made a face. "A couple times, before we moved here."
"Really?"
Taemin hesitated for the space of a breath. "Yeah. I... wasn't really ready," he said carefully. "I liked what we just did a lot more."
Jinki shifted until he could feel Taemin's hot breath against his collarbone and asked, "You didn't like it before?"
Taemin sighed into Jinki's shirt. "Not really. I'd pretend to be asleep until he was right up close trying to kiss me."
"Who?" Jinki asked, trying to put the scene together in his mind. He pictured Taemin a little younger than he was now, different hair, eyelashes looking freakishly long against his baby-chubby cheeks. The other figure was just a dark shadow for now, lingering near the bedside.
Taemin breathed out. It was a long moment before he inhaled again. "One of Taesun's friends. He used to stay over a lot." He winced at a memory, and then kept talking to keep Jinki from asking another question - Jinki had his mouth open, breath drawn to ask, but decided against interrupting again. "I was kind of curious, you know? So I didn't really protest or anything. He'd crawl into bed with me after Taesun fell asleep, and then..."
Jinki felt his heart hammering in his chest as Taemin told the story: Taesun's friend would pull back the sheets and press against Taemin's skinny body, reaching between his legs, pinching, squeezing, and then he'd guide Taemin's hand to touch his erection, hard and thick in Taemin's palms. He'd spit on his fingers and press them into Taemin's hole, too hard, too fast, and Taemin would whimper, trying to be quiet. "He always asked if I liked it," Taemin recalled. "Kept asking, like he really wanted to know, but when I said 'no' he just laughed and told me to give it a minute. I'd really like it in a minute." Taesun's friend would put his hands in the crooks of Taemin's knees and then he'd spit and spit - "hocked up a loogie in his hand," Taemin said with a shudder - and when he pushed his cock inside, Taemin thought that he'd burst apart. It felt like ripping. Like his lower body became this separate part of him, every nerve twitching in pain. He tried to go somewhere else; he'd practice math problems in his head, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
Taemin trailed off with a shrug. "It hurt like hell. I didn't stop crying until he left the room."
Jinki didn't understand the anger he felt; he didn't know where to direct it. "And once he left?"
"I wiped my face and went to sleep." Taemin kicked at the sheets and then pulled them up, catching air underneath so that it billowed and covered the both of them, slowly settling. "One time, in the morning there was dried blood all down my legs. I cleaned up and then my dad took me and Taesun out for breakfast after church."
Jinki pictured Taemin standing in the bathroom, sopping the blood off of his legs with damp toilet paper, in a near-panic while his father and brother paced impatiently by the door in their Sunday best. Jinki pulled Taemin close and kissed the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, Taemin."
Taemin smiled against Jinki's chest. "Not your fault," he mumbled. His lips made a wet mark a few inches below Jinki's collarbone. "Some people are just unlucky."
Jinki didn't know what to say to that.
"Are you hungry?" Taemin asked. He sat up, all sudden smiles. "I'm hungry. Let's go find something to eat."
Jinki watched Taemin bustling around the kitchen, rifling through cupboards in search of food that didn't require too much effort - "I'm not the best cook," Taemin admitted, flushing red, "but I like to do it."
He could have made gruel and Jinki wouldn't mind; Taemin looked beautiful with his sweats slung low on his hips, tee shirt rippling over his shoulderblades as he reached into the pantry. Jinki sidled up behind him, unable to keep his hands to himself. He wrapped his arms around Taemin's waist and pulled him into a close backhug, backing them up to the table. "Taemin-ah," he breathed, making sure that he whispered right into the shell of Taemin's ear, sending a shiver chasing down his spine.
Taemin smiled, twisting around to face Jinki, and whispered back, "Oppa?"
Jinki was about to lift Taemin onto the table when something slammed in the other room. There was a shuffling, and then-
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Taemin sprang back fast, nearly kicking over a chair. The scraping sound it made over the ceramic was ear-splitting. Jinki tried to school his face into an expression that didn't look guilty, that didn't spell out, we were about to rub crotches.
Taesun stood at the threshold of the kitchen. His eyes were wide, lip curled; he hadn't yelled, had hissed in a loud stage-whisper, but his hands were clenched into tight fists. He was eyeing Jinki like he had half a mind to punch him. Jinki thought he could see smoke wafting off of him; Taesun looked livid. "I said," Taesun repeated, "what the fuck are you doing to my brother?"
Jinki opened his mouth, scrambling for some explanation, but what could he say? I just happened to come over to your house on a Friday afternoon and felt like grinding your brother against a table. No reason. Totally innocent.
Taemin had shoved his hands into his pockets, and Jinki could see his fingers moving as he chipped at the nailpolish. Taesun looked from Jinki to Taemin, as though he would come up with a better answer than silence. Taemin didn't say anything.
"What the fuck," Taesun said. He crossed his arms and chewed his lip, a habit so reminiscent of Taemin, but somehow nothing like him at all - there wasn't anything playful about the gesture, nothing shy; Taesun was thinking hard, expression firm. "Taemin-ah," he said finally, and Taemin mumbled that he heard but kept his eyes fixed on the floor. "Did you invite him over?"
Taemin nodded.
For a moment, Taesun looked unsure, his eyes flickering from Taemin's guilty face to Jinki's crossed arms. Taesun looked doubtful for a moment. Jinki could almost see the thoughts as they flickered through his head: it had certainly looked like they were about to kiss when Taesun came in, but he knew Jinki - they played soccer together - and certainly no teammate could be gay. Maybe Jinki had come over to help Taemin with his homework. Maybe they'd just happened to be standing too-close in the kitchen with messy hair and puffy lips. And hard-ons.
Taesun shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at Taemin. "You're seriously messed up, you know that?" He said.
Taemin frowned at his feet.
"If I see," Taesun struggled for a word to summarize what he'd just witnessed. "If I see this again, I'm telling Dad."
Taemin didn't look up until Taesun had left to go upstairs and they heard the click of his door close. Taemin pulled his hands out of his pockets, the pink ragged and chipped, and then shook his head like he could shake off the bad feeling. He went over to the counter and examined his nails under the stove light. He'd chipped most of the nail varnish away, so that there were only several ragged patches of pink on his nails. He picked at his pinky, peeling away the varnish to reveal the bare nail underneath.
Taesun was staring at Jinki out of the corner of his eye. He didn't look away even when Jinki made it apparent that he was aware he was being stared at. Taesun met his gaze, unflinching, without blinking. It was a little creepy - more so because they were in the change room and surrounded by nine other half-naked guys.
After a long uncomfortable minute, Jinki took the bait. "What're you looking at?"
Taesun made a face. He didn't bother lowering his voice to keep the others from overhearing. "Just trying to figure out what the hell you were doing at my house this weekend."
The rest of the team was all-ears, the need for a shower momentarily forgotten as Taesun raised his hackles and took a few threatening steps towards Jinki. All eyes were on Jinki, waiting for the response. "And what did you see?" Jinki asked; he didn't want to admit to something and have it blow up in Taemin's face later on.
"You were all over my brother," Taesun said. "He was grinning like an idiot. You know what he's like, don't you?"
"Like-"
"Jinki-hyung~" Taesun sing-songed, a scathing imitation of that breathy, girlish voice that Taemin used. "Hyung is so helpful in math class! Please take care of me, hyung!" Taesun crossed his arms and looked Jinki straight in the eyes. "He's like this, Jinki. Why are you playing into it?"
"I'm not, I'm just-"
"Just don't encourage him."
Jinki frowned. Encourage him?
"He's messed in the head," Taesun said, gesturing. "He likes you like a girl would. If you keep treating him like that, he's going to think that you..."
The midfielders were already snickering. The forward had his head turned, but Jinki could see his shoulders bouncing up-and-down as he tried to muffle his laughter into his fist.
Taesun had a look of disgust on his face, as though the realization had just come to him. "Jinki... you're not like that are you? You're not-"
"Jinki-hyung is no fag!" It was Minho who came to Jinki's defense, scowling. He held his towel in one hand, trailing on the floor like he intended to use it as a weapon if it came to that. And just like that, the tension was broken. The rest of the team went back to undressing, laughing amongst themselves. Ha ha ha, Jinki a queer! As if!
"Even if he was hitting on your brother," the forward said, kicking off his cleats, "your brother looks so much like a girl that it wouldn't even count. Does he even have a dick under there? Or is he hiding a hole?"
Taesun's face was visibly paling. His hands were balled into fists.
"Knock it off, guys," Jinki said.
"I wouldn't mind finding out," said one of the midfielders. "Someone that pretty seriously can't be a dude."
Taesun looked at Jinki, but his expression was unreadable. Part-anger, part-resignation. Jinki tried his best at offering an apologetic shrug, but Taesun stormed off into the showers alone. In his absence, the theorizing about Taemin's genitalia only got more and more vulgar - if he turned out to be a girl, I'd rape him for sure... if not? Then, fuck, he deserves to get roughed up a bit for turning out to be a trap!
Jinki shuddered, remembering the way Taemin had sounded so resigned when he told Jinki about Taesun's friend raping him in his own bed. Like that kind of thing just happened. "You guys are sick," Jinki said, shaking his head. He pulled on a shirt and shouldered his backpack, not in the mood to linger.
The boys took time out of their discussion to wave, but even after the door shut behind him, Jinki could still hear their voices echoing around the room.
He's got pretty lips for a boy; probably sucked a lot of cock.
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