Violet Roses (2/2)
Title: Violet Roses (2/2)
Pairing: Onho, implied!jongkey
Genre: GROSS AMOUNTS OF FLUFF, romance, au
Rating: R
Word Count: 8000
Summary: A barista finally crosses paths with the florist he's been longing after.
Minho chooses to not dress too formally for their date; he shows up casual, but still tasteful. Jonghyun had always made fun of his modern fashion sense, but what does he know, the only thing his wardrobe consists of is sleeveless vests, so Minho opts to trust his own instincts when it comes to clothing.
The air conditioning strikes Minho once again as he pushes open the glass door to the floral shop. Kibum and Taemin glance up and smile simultaneously, and Minho bows a little, pulling at his collar awkwardly.
“Is Jinki-hyung here?” he asks, voice wavering.
“Hyung?” the boys chorus, eyebrows disappearing behind their bangs. Minho blinks.
“Yeah, uh,” he pauses, laughing gawkily, “hyung. He’s three years older than me.”
“Damn,” Kibum says, uncrossing his legs only to cross them again, opposite. “You sure look old for your age. Hell, even I’m older than you.”
“Nah, his features are too large. Look at his eyes, they make him look younger,” Taemin argues.
“But he’s a fucking skyscraper!” Kibum retaliates.
“GUYS!” A new voice screeches, and the (luckily customer-less) shop falls quiet. Jinki appears from the back door dressed in a short-sleeved burgundy hoodie and black jeans that squeeze at his fit thighs, his dorky, endearing glasses perched over his nose.
“Could you stop pestering our guest? God…” he trails off, cheeks reddening. Minho has to press his lips together to refrain from giggling.
“Hey, he’s handsome,” Taemin defends. “You know how to pick ‘em, hyung.”
Jinki blushes considerably at that comment, fidgety hands adjusting his glasses and clumsily toying with his golden brown fringe.
Minho’s trembling lips can’t help but grin. “Should we get going, hyung?”
“I-yeah,” Jinki says swiftly, swiping his wallet from the front counter and shoving it into his back pocket. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone, okay?” he sends a pointed look to the younger boys.
They hum expressionlessly in harmony, Taemin pulling out what looks to be a Nintendo DS and Kibum too absorbed in his magazine to supply a proper response. Jinki rolls his eyes infuriatingly and Minho laughs, holding the door open for him.
“I love coffee,” Minho sighs after consuming a mouthful of said drink, the bittersweet taste slithering down his throat and warming his system fully. “It’s so refreshing.”
“Me…too,” Jinki says, and hell is it unconvincing.
Minho raises an amused brow. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Jinki mumbles, staring into his own cup of coffee, tilting his head. “But, uh…don’t you think it’s a little…I don’t know, gross sometimes?”
Minho chortles, hiding the laugh behind the back of his hand. “I knew you didn’t like it.”
“I do, I do!” Jinki protests, determined. “I’m really happy you gave me some the other day.”
“I bet you were just drinking it to be polite,” Minho smiles, and upon figuring out such a thing himself, he falls a little harder for the elder because Jinki is just too adorably civil.
“I…maybe,” Jinki grumbles, clearly annoyed about being found out.
“Don’t worry about it, hyung,” Minho says, attempting charisma. He believes his attempt crashes and burns, though, considering the way Jinki doesn’t look up from his beverage, obviously still shy and uncomfortable.
“It doesn’t taste that bad,” Minho says, mostly just to fill the silence and make conversation. He had always been bad at initiating small talk. He takes another sip to prove his statement. “See?” he tries to smile encouragingly.
Jinki stares at him for a moment, head tipped to the side a little and glasses crooked and Minho’s fingers itch to straighten the eyewear. Then, unexpectedly, the elder stands in the booth (as best as he can, and discomfited is about as good as it gets), steadying his palms on the tabletop to lean forward. It’s a blur, the way his lips collide with Minho’s, pressing against them affably, causing the younger’s entire face to burn with embarrassment.
Minho isn’t even sure he gets to close his eyes and enjoy it before Jinki is pulling back, settling into his side of the booth again.
“You’re right, Minho-yah, it doesn’t taste that bad.”
“You guys kissed didn’t you,” Jonghyun says, pokerfaced, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Minho’s elbow digs into the counter, palm screening his shit-eating grin.
It’s the first time Minho goes over to Jinki’s apartment, and he wonders if he should bring a house-warming gift or something of that nature, just because he feels the need to match the older boy’s courtesy. Of course, he decides against it, excitement being too much and he has no other choice but to scurry next door when Jinki sends him a text message inviting him over for dinner.
He knocks on the door a couple times, eagerly, heart jumping in his chest at the thought of seeing the older boy again.
Jinki answers the door, smile infectious, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that reads something in English that Minho is too lazy to even try to translate.
“Come on in,” Jinki says, and Minho’s smile falls suddenly. Jinki pauses, clearly uneasy toward the strange mood change. “What?”
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” Minho points out, softly.
“I had time to put in contacts today,” Jinki chuckles.
“Shame,” Minho says, walking in like he’s been there a million times, like Jinki is an old friend, “you look so cute in them, too.”
Minho admits he’s more than a little proud when Jinki stumbles mid-step, face coloring brilliantly.
After dinner they decide to watch a movie, and Minho comes to find their taste in films is remotely similar as he sits on a stool in the kitchen, watching as Jinki digs through a cabinet for an appropriate movie.
They agree on one and Jinki beckons the younger into the living room, but Minho remains stoic, unmoving on his stool, lengthy legs bent and sock-clad feet resting somewhat uncomfortably on the pegs that run horizontally beneath the seat.
“Something wrong?” Jinki questions.
Minho, mostly absentmindedly, reaches out and curls an arm around Jinki’s waist. He pulls the other boy to his side and their bodies fit together, hip bones almost painfully digging into each other’s flesh, but Minho wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Minho-yah…” Jinki sounds unsure.
“I…are we…” the younger trails off, leaning into Jinki’s shoulder, breathing in his cologne.
“Are we…?” Jinki urges, voice shaky, clearly affected.
“Boyfriends?” Minho finishes, then wants to smack himself in the face right after, because did he really have to word it that way? He drags his lips to Jinki’s cheek, running them over the soft skin and feeling it heat considerably under his feathery touch.
“Yeah,” Jinki coughs. “If-if you want,” he adds not a second later.
“Of course I do,” Minho smiles, almost laughing bitterly at the idea of turning down the older boy.
“Then, yeah,” Jinki smiles as well, bending down a little so their lips can mesh together. This is their first proper kiss and Minho takes advantage of it, carding his long fingers through Jinki’s silky hair, savoring the way the elder audibly sighs, undoubtedly relaxed.
They break apart, panting lightly. “Movie, now? We can cuddle,” Jinki reasons.
Minho scoops the other boy into his arms, bridal style, and Jinki flushes ridiculously, pounding his fists embarrassedly to the younger’s rumbling chest.
“Why purple?” Jonghyun wonders, lips pursed as he stares at the still-fresh flowers that live happily in a vase, adorning the side of the counter.
Jinki seems to freeze over, face paling.
“Yeah, why?” Minho presses, also curious, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s head. “They’re pretty and all, but isn’t the choice a little weird?”
Jinki doesn’t speak, instead selecting to look at the ground, bangs falling in front of his eyes. Minho’s brows furrow, a hand running reassuringly along his spine. “Jinki?” he asks softly.
“Violet roses,” he murmurs, and Jonghyun and Minho listen fixedly to his small voice. “The meaning of violet roses is ‘love at first sight’.”
Minho nuzzles Jinki’s neck. “You loved me at first sight?”
“Shut up,” is all the other says.
“You loved me at first sight,” Minho says again, and it’s not a question this time.
Jinki doesn’t deny it, if that’s any indication.
Minho makes sure to do his grocery shopping directly after work, and take his time, so he'll arrive home around the same time Jinki does. When he reaches his apartment that night, he then realizes how creepy he must seem for adjusting his schedule just to come in slight contact with the older boy before bed, even if he is his boyfriend.
I'm so obsessed, Minho inwardly sighs as he steps onto the balcony. He lifts his head and nearly gasps when he sees Jinki's arms folded over the railing, leaning against it and looking off distantly. He doesn't even seem to notice Minho's presence.
"Um...hi, hyung," Minho clears his throat.
Jinki snaps out of his trance, blinking at the taller. His face doesn't brighten like Minho expects, no, it softens-like lessens into a genuine, warm smile with soft eyes. It's absolutely gorgeous.
"Hi, Minho-yah. Do some late night shopping or something?" he asks, nodding toward the bags in Minho's hands.
Minho tries to indifferently nod and steps closer, wary still. Jinki seems…different, tonight (for lack of a better word).
The elder thoughtfully studies the skyline in the distance. "I was just out here thinking, I guess."
"Oh," Minho says, clueless on what to do in this situation. "Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Jinki answers, and Minho sets down his grocery bags, stepping forward to secure Jinki in his arms, interlocking his fingers around the other boy’s sweatshirt pocket.
“You’re not feeling okay,” Minho mumbles into his hair, planting a chaste kiss to his scalp. “What’s up?”
Jinki doesn’t seem to beat around the bush, because he speaks up without much encouragement. “Do you really like me?”
Minho is afraid he had heard wrong. “Are you seriously asking that?” he asks, a small measure of hysteria in his tone.
“You’re the professional type. The tall, handsome guy who has a steady relationship with a quiet, pretty girl. You shouldn’t be dating a klutz like me.”
“You’re being stereotypical, for one, hyung,” Minho starts, a bit humorously. “Just because I look a certain way doesn’t mean I’m going to date a certain person. I want you,” his sentence dies on the last part, slightly bashful, his voice breaking just a bit. “Which brings me to point number two-you’re the only one I want to be with at the moment, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.” He slants his body just enough to blow cool air in Jinki’s ear, and the elder shivers, shoulders quaking. Minho smiles, catching Jinki’s earlobe between his teeth, tugging at the flesh playfully. He sees Jinki’s eyes scrunch shut, knuckles going white on the railing as if to restrain himself.
“I really do like you, you know,” Jinki suddenly says, turning around, looking up into Minho’s eyes seriously.
Minho falters at that, face scorching. “Yeah? I like you, too.”
When Jinki yanks his collar, forcing him down into a frenzied kiss, Minho can say he’s more than a little surprised.
“I’ve never done this before,” Jinki says, a little too late if you ask Minho, because he’s already lingering over the latter, forearms beside his head, crotch pressing gently to the expanse of the younger’s thigh.
“Me neither,” Minho breathes.
“Ever?” Jinki looks genuinely shocked.
“Well, I mean. There have been encounters, but never with a guy.”
“Oh,” Jinki says, nodding a few times as if to convince himself of something. “Oh, good, good…” he trails off, then runs a tremulous hand through his thick, faintly sweaty locks.
“Hey-we’ll go slow,” Minho promises, lovingly cupping the side of Jinki’s face, smoothing his thumb over the scarlet apple of the elder’s cheek. Jinki smiles weakly, and Minho takes that as permission, pulling the other boy flush against him, arms wrapping around him cozily.
Jinki gasps a little as their chests bump together, but he doesn’t pull back. If anything, he pushes himself closer, his half-hard erection grinding down onto Minho’s raised thigh in the process. He immediately breaks from the kiss, greedily taking in the surrounding air, rocking into Minho again in an obvious search for friction.
And every time that happens, Minho’s own groin rubs satisfyingly against the swell of Jinki’s thigh, sending tingles of pleasure down his spine and between his legs.
“I’ve really-” pant, “never done this-” pant, “…ever,” Jinki struggles to explain, heavy head slumping to Minho’s shoulder, breathy little moans right against the younger’s ear, much to Minho’s delight.
“I can tell,” Minho whispers, and his voice is everything but even. The sound of it causes him to chuckle at himself, but his half-laugh is broken abruptly when Jinki picks up the tempo he had previously set, hips rolling faster in what Minho assumes is pure instinct.
“I want to see,” Minho gasps, pulling gently at the back of Jinki’s head to lift it, to gauge his reactions.
“It’s…e-embarrassing,” an inexperienced Jinki wheezes, face flushed with a naturally beautiful red, eyelids fluttering as he continues to whimper, rutting his hips harder, quicker. Minho lays a hand on his bum, then trails down to the back of one of his fleshy thighs, pulling him down onto his own body, assisting him. Jinki can do nothing but groan at this point, head merely being held up by Minho’s fingers that are curled into his hair.
“You’re so pretty,” Minho admits in awe, lips instinctively fastening to a vein that runs along Jinki’s neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and leaving a contrasting red mark. Jinki whimpers, undoubtedly pleased.
“Close,” the elder whispers, and Minho draws back speedily to watch, momentarily blinded by Jinki and forgetting the mind-blowing, raw pleasure he’s currently experiencing. When Jinki comes, he doesn’t make a sound, but he’s stunning, and it’s really all Minho needs to see before he’s coming, too.
“Hyung, just come out, you’re fine.”
“I’m never looking you in the eye again,” says Jinki, bundled under Minho’s covers, only his splayed tips of hair visible.
Minho sighs.
“You were supposed to be back ten minutes ago,” is the first thing Kibum says when Jinki and Minho carelessly walk into the shop, fingers interlaced.
“And you were supposed to water the roses last week, but they died, now didn’t they?” Jinki rejoins, and Kibum falls quiet, eyebrow twitching.
“Whatever,” the blonde says, flipping his bangs. Minho always finds Kibum’s behavior quite amusing. Taemin’s, too. He vaguely wonders where Jinki picked up these two, anyway.
“Hey, Jinki-hyung! You forgot your wallet at the-” Jonghyun is abruptly in the doorway of the floral shop, holding up a black billfold that Minho definitely recognizes as Jinki’s, before his sentence is cut short, eyes stretching.
“Oh, thanks, Jonghyun,” Jinki says, merrily snatching up his wallet, blissfully unaware of the way Jonghyun is practically drooling. Minho follows his gaze and isn’t surprised in the least when he sees Kibum sitting there, eyes fixed on his best friend, body rigid.
“Kibum, this is my friend Jonghyun,” Minho decides to save Jonghyun some humiliation and introduces them to each other, imagining that his older friend would most likely be reduced to a stuttering mess considering the way he’s gawking at the poor blonde boy. “Jonghyun, Kibum. He’s one of Jinki’s good friends.”
“Hi,” Jonghyun says, licking his lips.
“Hi,” Kibum restates the simple greeting, eyes wider than usual under his bleached fringe.
“I’m…I own the café across the street.”
“Cool,” Kibum says, and when his eyes glaze over, Minho assures they can handle it from here and sneaks out with his boyfriend, breaking into a sprint when Taemin calls after them.
“They need me over there!” Jinki punches Minho’s bicep, but he’s laughing breathlessly, the two of them standing in the middle of an alley, for whatever reason.
“It’s fine. Besides I’m free today. Wouldn’t want to make me be bored on my day off, right?”
Minho curves down to kiss Jinki’s lips and the elder rests his hands on Minho’s ribs, tracing the ridges through his thin t-shirt.
“We just ate lunch, so…movie?”
“I’m broke,” Minho frowns. “My place?” he grins at the alternative.
Jinki grins, too.
“What month were you born?” Jinki asks randomly, lounging on Minho’s couch idly as the younger goes through his homework, vexed with concentration.
“Huh? Oh, December,” he answers, distracted.
“Poinsettia,” Jinki declares, and Minho arches a brow.
“That’s the flower of December. I was born in December, too,” he says, almost pompous. Minho smiles oddly.
“I’m not even sure what that is, though.”
“It’s those pretty red ones, you know, the ones that always show up around Christmas time. They symbolize success and are said to bring celebration into your life,” he nods, certain.
Minho hums. “Interesting, hyung. But my favorite is still the violet rose, for obvious reasons.”
Jinki flings a pillow at the other boy’s face.
“I have to go to work, Minho-yah, Taemin can’t stay there alone,” Jinki protests with a smitten smile, backing away but not drawing wholly from the grip Minho has on his hands.
“He’s old enough to be by himself!” Minho pouts (he only gets this way when he’s with Jinki). “Besides, he’s got Kibum!”
“Kibum is with Jonghyun,” Jinki snickers, and Minho deflates.
“Fine,” the younger grumbles, stubborn, but not before stealing a quick kiss from the other. “But tomorrow we have to go out for coffee.”
“Again?” Jinki gapes, disbelieving.
“Yes, again. When we drink coffee it ups my chances of getting kisses from you, for some reason.” He pecks Jinki’s lips again, just for good measure.
Jinki flushes, hauling his hands away. “Yeah, well.”
Minho snorts at his reasoning.
Minho waltzes into the floral shop, grin on his face. The smell of fresh flowers reaches his nostrils and he inhales, marveling the way this place is always so delightfully chilly.
“Hyung?” Taemin asks, confused. “You know Jinki-hyung is working today, right?”
“Yep,” Minho says, smiling when his boyfriend speedily looks up, much like the first day they met, his face brightening.
“Hi,” Jinki utters, mirth in his chocolate orbs.
“Hi,” Minho leans in, lips pressing to the elder’s. Kibum makes a sound of distaste and Minho smiles against Jinki’s lips just as the latter does, their heads tilting in opposite directions, noses brushing.
It’s only when Jinki’s hands skate down Minho’s back do they break apart, quite literally, because Kibum forces a hand between them, pushing the taller boy off and causing him to stagger backwards. He laughs lightheartedly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, anything but. “Anyway, I’d like roses. Purple ones. A whole dozen.”
Jinki eyes him with mistrust and a dash of terror and Minho purely smiles innocently, observing as Taemin gathers the batch of requested flowers, gathering them trendily.
“Florists aren’t cheap,” Taemin reminds cheekily, grinning shamelessly as Minho dotingly rolls his eyes and slaps down the exact amount that’s needed (rather than just throwing his whole wallet’s worth, like last time).
“I’m aware,” he assures, mimicking the youngest’s tone, sharing a knowing smile with him. He catches a single dimple appearing on Kibum’s cheek from where he’s buried in his magazine, which only causes Minho to grin wider.
“Why’re you…” Jinki starts to say, but trails off when a wad of violet roses is being shoved right into his face, causing him to blink hastily.
Minho lowers the bouquet gradually, revealing his coyly smiling face. “Happy one month, hyung,” he murmurs.
Jinki blinks once again, then again, and with each comprehending blink, his eyes become all the more watery. Minho suddenly laughs, reaching out to carefully sweep a thumb over the elder’s cheekbone, catching a fast-dripping tear.
“I love you,” Jinki sobs, stuffing his face in his hands.
Minho kisses his boyfriend’s forehead, smiling at the awws he receives from his involved audience. He then mutters, for Jinki’s ears only, “It was love at first sight for me, too."
previous.
A/N: THIS IS A MONSTER. ;_; no fucking clue how it ended up this long. I don't even know what I'm doing with my life anymore. O T L
welp. this was for a prompt fill over at the onho fic meme. tbh, I've always wanted to write onho, I just don't know how. I honestly don't. nothing is natural for me when I write them, which sucks because I love them so much. ugh. it's very hard to write onho, imo. but anyway, I tried. and of course, fluffy nonsense was created. BUT WHATEVER IT WAS FUN TO WRITE SO YEAH.
I'm also seriously considering a side story for jongkey's relationship. just a oneshot type thing. I CAN'T RUN FROM THE OTP OKAY.
I think dry humping is really hot omfg I couldn't help myself OTL forgive me
I'm glad I'm done with this, though. I started writing it in early june and didn't start up again until today. I was very unmotivated most of the time. anyway, this is irrelevant information. SORRY FOR RAMBLING BYE
wait one more thing. to the anon who requested this: I hope you like it. I really hope it meets your expectations, though I myself am unsatisfied with it. ;_;
Pairing: Onho, implied!jongkey
Genre: GROSS AMOUNTS OF FLUFF, romance, au
Rating: R
Word Count: 8000
Summary: A barista finally crosses paths with the florist he's been longing after.
Minho chooses to not dress too formally for their date; he shows up casual, but still tasteful. Jonghyun had always made fun of his modern fashion sense, but what does he know, the only thing his wardrobe consists of is sleeveless vests, so Minho opts to trust his own instincts when it comes to clothing.
The air conditioning strikes Minho once again as he pushes open the glass door to the floral shop. Kibum and Taemin glance up and smile simultaneously, and Minho bows a little, pulling at his collar awkwardly.
“Is Jinki-hyung here?” he asks, voice wavering.
“Hyung?” the boys chorus, eyebrows disappearing behind their bangs. Minho blinks.
“Yeah, uh,” he pauses, laughing gawkily, “hyung. He’s three years older than me.”
“Damn,” Kibum says, uncrossing his legs only to cross them again, opposite. “You sure look old for your age. Hell, even I’m older than you.”
“Nah, his features are too large. Look at his eyes, they make him look younger,” Taemin argues.
“But he’s a fucking skyscraper!” Kibum retaliates.
“GUYS!” A new voice screeches, and the (luckily customer-less) shop falls quiet. Jinki appears from the back door dressed in a short-sleeved burgundy hoodie and black jeans that squeeze at his fit thighs, his dorky, endearing glasses perched over his nose.
“Could you stop pestering our guest? God…” he trails off, cheeks reddening. Minho has to press his lips together to refrain from giggling.
“Hey, he’s handsome,” Taemin defends. “You know how to pick ‘em, hyung.”
Jinki blushes considerably at that comment, fidgety hands adjusting his glasses and clumsily toying with his golden brown fringe.
Minho’s trembling lips can’t help but grin. “Should we get going, hyung?”
“I-yeah,” Jinki says swiftly, swiping his wallet from the front counter and shoving it into his back pocket. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone, okay?” he sends a pointed look to the younger boys.
They hum expressionlessly in harmony, Taemin pulling out what looks to be a Nintendo DS and Kibum too absorbed in his magazine to supply a proper response. Jinki rolls his eyes infuriatingly and Minho laughs, holding the door open for him.
“I love coffee,” Minho sighs after consuming a mouthful of said drink, the bittersweet taste slithering down his throat and warming his system fully. “It’s so refreshing.”
“Me…too,” Jinki says, and hell is it unconvincing.
Minho raises an amused brow. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Jinki mumbles, staring into his own cup of coffee, tilting his head. “But, uh…don’t you think it’s a little…I don’t know, gross sometimes?”
Minho chortles, hiding the laugh behind the back of his hand. “I knew you didn’t like it.”
“I do, I do!” Jinki protests, determined. “I’m really happy you gave me some the other day.”
“I bet you were just drinking it to be polite,” Minho smiles, and upon figuring out such a thing himself, he falls a little harder for the elder because Jinki is just too adorably civil.
“I…maybe,” Jinki grumbles, clearly annoyed about being found out.
“Don’t worry about it, hyung,” Minho says, attempting charisma. He believes his attempt crashes and burns, though, considering the way Jinki doesn’t look up from his beverage, obviously still shy and uncomfortable.
“It doesn’t taste that bad,” Minho says, mostly just to fill the silence and make conversation. He had always been bad at initiating small talk. He takes another sip to prove his statement. “See?” he tries to smile encouragingly.
Jinki stares at him for a moment, head tipped to the side a little and glasses crooked and Minho’s fingers itch to straighten the eyewear. Then, unexpectedly, the elder stands in the booth (as best as he can, and discomfited is about as good as it gets), steadying his palms on the tabletop to lean forward. It’s a blur, the way his lips collide with Minho’s, pressing against them affably, causing the younger’s entire face to burn with embarrassment.
Minho isn’t even sure he gets to close his eyes and enjoy it before Jinki is pulling back, settling into his side of the booth again.
“You’re right, Minho-yah, it doesn’t taste that bad.”
“You guys kissed didn’t you,” Jonghyun says, pokerfaced, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Minho’s elbow digs into the counter, palm screening his shit-eating grin.
It’s the first time Minho goes over to Jinki’s apartment, and he wonders if he should bring a house-warming gift or something of that nature, just because he feels the need to match the older boy’s courtesy. Of course, he decides against it, excitement being too much and he has no other choice but to scurry next door when Jinki sends him a text message inviting him over for dinner.
He knocks on the door a couple times, eagerly, heart jumping in his chest at the thought of seeing the older boy again.
Jinki answers the door, smile infectious, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that reads something in English that Minho is too lazy to even try to translate.
“Come on in,” Jinki says, and Minho’s smile falls suddenly. Jinki pauses, clearly uneasy toward the strange mood change. “What?”
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” Minho points out, softly.
“I had time to put in contacts today,” Jinki chuckles.
“Shame,” Minho says, walking in like he’s been there a million times, like Jinki is an old friend, “you look so cute in them, too.”
Minho admits he’s more than a little proud when Jinki stumbles mid-step, face coloring brilliantly.
After dinner they decide to watch a movie, and Minho comes to find their taste in films is remotely similar as he sits on a stool in the kitchen, watching as Jinki digs through a cabinet for an appropriate movie.
They agree on one and Jinki beckons the younger into the living room, but Minho remains stoic, unmoving on his stool, lengthy legs bent and sock-clad feet resting somewhat uncomfortably on the pegs that run horizontally beneath the seat.
“Something wrong?” Jinki questions.
Minho, mostly absentmindedly, reaches out and curls an arm around Jinki’s waist. He pulls the other boy to his side and their bodies fit together, hip bones almost painfully digging into each other’s flesh, but Minho wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Minho-yah…” Jinki sounds unsure.
“I…are we…” the younger trails off, leaning into Jinki’s shoulder, breathing in his cologne.
“Are we…?” Jinki urges, voice shaky, clearly affected.
“Boyfriends?” Minho finishes, then wants to smack himself in the face right after, because did he really have to word it that way? He drags his lips to Jinki’s cheek, running them over the soft skin and feeling it heat considerably under his feathery touch.
“Yeah,” Jinki coughs. “If-if you want,” he adds not a second later.
“Of course I do,” Minho smiles, almost laughing bitterly at the idea of turning down the older boy.
“Then, yeah,” Jinki smiles as well, bending down a little so their lips can mesh together. This is their first proper kiss and Minho takes advantage of it, carding his long fingers through Jinki’s silky hair, savoring the way the elder audibly sighs, undoubtedly relaxed.
They break apart, panting lightly. “Movie, now? We can cuddle,” Jinki reasons.
Minho scoops the other boy into his arms, bridal style, and Jinki flushes ridiculously, pounding his fists embarrassedly to the younger’s rumbling chest.
“Why purple?” Jonghyun wonders, lips pursed as he stares at the still-fresh flowers that live happily in a vase, adorning the side of the counter.
Jinki seems to freeze over, face paling.
“Yeah, why?” Minho presses, also curious, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s head. “They’re pretty and all, but isn’t the choice a little weird?”
Jinki doesn’t speak, instead selecting to look at the ground, bangs falling in front of his eyes. Minho’s brows furrow, a hand running reassuringly along his spine. “Jinki?” he asks softly.
“Violet roses,” he murmurs, and Jonghyun and Minho listen fixedly to his small voice. “The meaning of violet roses is ‘love at first sight’.”
Minho nuzzles Jinki’s neck. “You loved me at first sight?”
“Shut up,” is all the other says.
“You loved me at first sight,” Minho says again, and it’s not a question this time.
Jinki doesn’t deny it, if that’s any indication.
Minho makes sure to do his grocery shopping directly after work, and take his time, so he'll arrive home around the same time Jinki does. When he reaches his apartment that night, he then realizes how creepy he must seem for adjusting his schedule just to come in slight contact with the older boy before bed, even if he is his boyfriend.
I'm so obsessed, Minho inwardly sighs as he steps onto the balcony. He lifts his head and nearly gasps when he sees Jinki's arms folded over the railing, leaning against it and looking off distantly. He doesn't even seem to notice Minho's presence.
"Um...hi, hyung," Minho clears his throat.
Jinki snaps out of his trance, blinking at the taller. His face doesn't brighten like Minho expects, no, it softens-like lessens into a genuine, warm smile with soft eyes. It's absolutely gorgeous.
"Hi, Minho-yah. Do some late night shopping or something?" he asks, nodding toward the bags in Minho's hands.
Minho tries to indifferently nod and steps closer, wary still. Jinki seems…different, tonight (for lack of a better word).
The elder thoughtfully studies the skyline in the distance. "I was just out here thinking, I guess."
"Oh," Minho says, clueless on what to do in this situation. "Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Jinki answers, and Minho sets down his grocery bags, stepping forward to secure Jinki in his arms, interlocking his fingers around the other boy’s sweatshirt pocket.
“You’re not feeling okay,” Minho mumbles into his hair, planting a chaste kiss to his scalp. “What’s up?”
Jinki doesn’t seem to beat around the bush, because he speaks up without much encouragement. “Do you really like me?”
Minho is afraid he had heard wrong. “Are you seriously asking that?” he asks, a small measure of hysteria in his tone.
“You’re the professional type. The tall, handsome guy who has a steady relationship with a quiet, pretty girl. You shouldn’t be dating a klutz like me.”
“You’re being stereotypical, for one, hyung,” Minho starts, a bit humorously. “Just because I look a certain way doesn’t mean I’m going to date a certain person. I want you,” his sentence dies on the last part, slightly bashful, his voice breaking just a bit. “Which brings me to point number two-you’re the only one I want to be with at the moment, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.” He slants his body just enough to blow cool air in Jinki’s ear, and the elder shivers, shoulders quaking. Minho smiles, catching Jinki’s earlobe between his teeth, tugging at the flesh playfully. He sees Jinki’s eyes scrunch shut, knuckles going white on the railing as if to restrain himself.
“I really do like you, you know,” Jinki suddenly says, turning around, looking up into Minho’s eyes seriously.
Minho falters at that, face scorching. “Yeah? I like you, too.”
When Jinki yanks his collar, forcing him down into a frenzied kiss, Minho can say he’s more than a little surprised.
“I’ve never done this before,” Jinki says, a little too late if you ask Minho, because he’s already lingering over the latter, forearms beside his head, crotch pressing gently to the expanse of the younger’s thigh.
“Me neither,” Minho breathes.
“Ever?” Jinki looks genuinely shocked.
“Well, I mean. There have been encounters, but never with a guy.”
“Oh,” Jinki says, nodding a few times as if to convince himself of something. “Oh, good, good…” he trails off, then runs a tremulous hand through his thick, faintly sweaty locks.
“Hey-we’ll go slow,” Minho promises, lovingly cupping the side of Jinki’s face, smoothing his thumb over the scarlet apple of the elder’s cheek. Jinki smiles weakly, and Minho takes that as permission, pulling the other boy flush against him, arms wrapping around him cozily.
Jinki gasps a little as their chests bump together, but he doesn’t pull back. If anything, he pushes himself closer, his half-hard erection grinding down onto Minho’s raised thigh in the process. He immediately breaks from the kiss, greedily taking in the surrounding air, rocking into Minho again in an obvious search for friction.
And every time that happens, Minho’s own groin rubs satisfyingly against the swell of Jinki’s thigh, sending tingles of pleasure down his spine and between his legs.
“I’ve really-” pant, “never done this-” pant, “…ever,” Jinki struggles to explain, heavy head slumping to Minho’s shoulder, breathy little moans right against the younger’s ear, much to Minho’s delight.
“I can tell,” Minho whispers, and his voice is everything but even. The sound of it causes him to chuckle at himself, but his half-laugh is broken abruptly when Jinki picks up the tempo he had previously set, hips rolling faster in what Minho assumes is pure instinct.
“I want to see,” Minho gasps, pulling gently at the back of Jinki’s head to lift it, to gauge his reactions.
“It’s…e-embarrassing,” an inexperienced Jinki wheezes, face flushed with a naturally beautiful red, eyelids fluttering as he continues to whimper, rutting his hips harder, quicker. Minho lays a hand on his bum, then trails down to the back of one of his fleshy thighs, pulling him down onto his own body, assisting him. Jinki can do nothing but groan at this point, head merely being held up by Minho’s fingers that are curled into his hair.
“You’re so pretty,” Minho admits in awe, lips instinctively fastening to a vein that runs along Jinki’s neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and leaving a contrasting red mark. Jinki whimpers, undoubtedly pleased.
“Close,” the elder whispers, and Minho draws back speedily to watch, momentarily blinded by Jinki and forgetting the mind-blowing, raw pleasure he’s currently experiencing. When Jinki comes, he doesn’t make a sound, but he’s stunning, and it’s really all Minho needs to see before he’s coming, too.
“Hyung, just come out, you’re fine.”
“I’m never looking you in the eye again,” says Jinki, bundled under Minho’s covers, only his splayed tips of hair visible.
Minho sighs.
“You were supposed to be back ten minutes ago,” is the first thing Kibum says when Jinki and Minho carelessly walk into the shop, fingers interlaced.
“And you were supposed to water the roses last week, but they died, now didn’t they?” Jinki rejoins, and Kibum falls quiet, eyebrow twitching.
“Whatever,” the blonde says, flipping his bangs. Minho always finds Kibum’s behavior quite amusing. Taemin’s, too. He vaguely wonders where Jinki picked up these two, anyway.
“Hey, Jinki-hyung! You forgot your wallet at the-” Jonghyun is abruptly in the doorway of the floral shop, holding up a black billfold that Minho definitely recognizes as Jinki’s, before his sentence is cut short, eyes stretching.
“Oh, thanks, Jonghyun,” Jinki says, merrily snatching up his wallet, blissfully unaware of the way Jonghyun is practically drooling. Minho follows his gaze and isn’t surprised in the least when he sees Kibum sitting there, eyes fixed on his best friend, body rigid.
“Kibum, this is my friend Jonghyun,” Minho decides to save Jonghyun some humiliation and introduces them to each other, imagining that his older friend would most likely be reduced to a stuttering mess considering the way he’s gawking at the poor blonde boy. “Jonghyun, Kibum. He’s one of Jinki’s good friends.”
“Hi,” Jonghyun says, licking his lips.
“Hi,” Kibum restates the simple greeting, eyes wider than usual under his bleached fringe.
“I’m…I own the café across the street.”
“Cool,” Kibum says, and when his eyes glaze over, Minho assures they can handle it from here and sneaks out with his boyfriend, breaking into a sprint when Taemin calls after them.
“They need me over there!” Jinki punches Minho’s bicep, but he’s laughing breathlessly, the two of them standing in the middle of an alley, for whatever reason.
“It’s fine. Besides I’m free today. Wouldn’t want to make me be bored on my day off, right?”
Minho curves down to kiss Jinki’s lips and the elder rests his hands on Minho’s ribs, tracing the ridges through his thin t-shirt.
“We just ate lunch, so…movie?”
“I’m broke,” Minho frowns. “My place?” he grins at the alternative.
Jinki grins, too.
“What month were you born?” Jinki asks randomly, lounging on Minho’s couch idly as the younger goes through his homework, vexed with concentration.
“Huh? Oh, December,” he answers, distracted.
“Poinsettia,” Jinki declares, and Minho arches a brow.
“That’s the flower of December. I was born in December, too,” he says, almost pompous. Minho smiles oddly.
“I’m not even sure what that is, though.”
“It’s those pretty red ones, you know, the ones that always show up around Christmas time. They symbolize success and are said to bring celebration into your life,” he nods, certain.
Minho hums. “Interesting, hyung. But my favorite is still the violet rose, for obvious reasons.”
Jinki flings a pillow at the other boy’s face.
“I have to go to work, Minho-yah, Taemin can’t stay there alone,” Jinki protests with a smitten smile, backing away but not drawing wholly from the grip Minho has on his hands.
“He’s old enough to be by himself!” Minho pouts (he only gets this way when he’s with Jinki). “Besides, he’s got Kibum!”
“Kibum is with Jonghyun,” Jinki snickers, and Minho deflates.
“Fine,” the younger grumbles, stubborn, but not before stealing a quick kiss from the other. “But tomorrow we have to go out for coffee.”
“Again?” Jinki gapes, disbelieving.
“Yes, again. When we drink coffee it ups my chances of getting kisses from you, for some reason.” He pecks Jinki’s lips again, just for good measure.
Jinki flushes, hauling his hands away. “Yeah, well.”
Minho snorts at his reasoning.
Minho waltzes into the floral shop, grin on his face. The smell of fresh flowers reaches his nostrils and he inhales, marveling the way this place is always so delightfully chilly.
“Hyung?” Taemin asks, confused. “You know Jinki-hyung is working today, right?”
“Yep,” Minho says, smiling when his boyfriend speedily looks up, much like the first day they met, his face brightening.
“Hi,” Jinki utters, mirth in his chocolate orbs.
“Hi,” Minho leans in, lips pressing to the elder’s. Kibum makes a sound of distaste and Minho smiles against Jinki’s lips just as the latter does, their heads tilting in opposite directions, noses brushing.
It’s only when Jinki’s hands skate down Minho’s back do they break apart, quite literally, because Kibum forces a hand between them, pushing the taller boy off and causing him to stagger backwards. He laughs lightheartedly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, anything but. “Anyway, I’d like roses. Purple ones. A whole dozen.”
Jinki eyes him with mistrust and a dash of terror and Minho purely smiles innocently, observing as Taemin gathers the batch of requested flowers, gathering them trendily.
“Florists aren’t cheap,” Taemin reminds cheekily, grinning shamelessly as Minho dotingly rolls his eyes and slaps down the exact amount that’s needed (rather than just throwing his whole wallet’s worth, like last time).
“I’m aware,” he assures, mimicking the youngest’s tone, sharing a knowing smile with him. He catches a single dimple appearing on Kibum’s cheek from where he’s buried in his magazine, which only causes Minho to grin wider.
“Why’re you…” Jinki starts to say, but trails off when a wad of violet roses is being shoved right into his face, causing him to blink hastily.
Minho lowers the bouquet gradually, revealing his coyly smiling face. “Happy one month, hyung,” he murmurs.
Jinki blinks once again, then again, and with each comprehending blink, his eyes become all the more watery. Minho suddenly laughs, reaching out to carefully sweep a thumb over the elder’s cheekbone, catching a fast-dripping tear.
“I love you,” Jinki sobs, stuffing his face in his hands.
Minho kisses his boyfriend’s forehead, smiling at the awws he receives from his involved audience. He then mutters, for Jinki’s ears only, “It was love at first sight for me, too."
previous.
A/N: THIS IS A MONSTER. ;_; no fucking clue how it ended up this long. I don't even know what I'm doing with my life anymore. O T L
welp. this was for a prompt fill over at the onho fic meme. tbh, I've always wanted to write onho, I just don't know how. I honestly don't. nothing is natural for me when I write them, which sucks because I love them so much. ugh. it's very hard to write onho, imo. but anyway, I tried. and of course, fluffy nonsense was created. BUT WHATEVER IT WAS FUN TO WRITE SO YEAH.
I'm also seriously considering a side story for jongkey's relationship. just a oneshot type thing. I CAN'T RUN FROM THE OTP OKAY.
I think dry humping is really hot omfg I couldn't help myself OTL forgive me
I'm glad I'm done with this, though. I started writing it in early june and didn't start up again until today. I was very unmotivated most of the time. anyway, this is irrelevant information. SORRY FOR RAMBLING BYE
wait one more thing. to the anon who requested this: I hope you like it. I really hope it meets your expectations, though I myself am unsatisfied with it. ;_;