[Ficlet] #14
Title: Touch of God
Author: debsk
Claim: Minho/Taemin
Prompt: #14 - Heaven&Hell
Fandom: SHINee
Rating: PG
Word Count: 970
Summary: Taemin’s head is gone thanks to Jaejoong’s drink. With his second shot, he becomes sensations and feelings bottle inside useless skin, flesh and bones.
Notes/Warnings: This is an Alternative Universe with superpowers and mentions of much more people than the SHINee members. SM Town family is too interesting not to have them in the same AU. If you see mistakes or something that does not make sense, I would be thankful if you point it out ^_^
Written for Table Set 5 from 50ficlets. 40 to go.
My internet is not working and it won't be in the next weeks. I won't be able to be online and post. Once I get it back, I'll start posting every second day again.
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#14 - Heaven&Hell
Taemin is not overly religious. He never was. He never believed in his mother’s gods passed successfully from generation to generation until he came along. He didn’t even care about one of the oldest religions of humanity, the one with followers since humanity was humanity that was all about duality and consequences. He went with his mother to worship gods, goddess, and later, when she decided to be active in the City’s all-powerful God, he was there with her but, even now that he is on the Army, he still thinks that they could be gods because they are the ones that have the power to safe their people.
That, in fact, doesn’t make him evade the religious metaphors in which he thinks as soon as he drinks Jaejoong’s beverage. If Heaven’s drink is Ambrosia, then this must be Hell’s.
First, there is burning.
Secondly, the extreme spiciness of it becomes way too much.
Thirdly he feels hurt because of mix between high levels of alcohol and spice.
All his nerves are telling him how big is the pain, first in his mouth then in his chest and then in the rest of him. Even his toes hurt. And there is not enough oxygen, and it’s hot and he is fighting screams and tears because some part of him still knows where he is and who is in the party and that Taemin is in front of the most powerful group of fighters the army has ever had. It wouldn’t do for his ambitions to show such a weak side of himself so he tries to fight it, tries to bite his screams and keep standing. More or less.
Luckily, Taemin isn’t the only one coughing. Jinki is doubling over himself, Kibum’s distaste is clearly shown in his face and Jonghyun is shouting profanities.
Minho is the only one that keeps some dignity after finishing his shot. Taemin, through his tears, can see Jaejoong’s pleased smile.
As sudden as it comes, the uncomfortable sensations fade away and Taemin’s head is just a bit less sharp than it was. He feels diluted around the corners, like an old painting that stayed too many times close to being sunk in water. A buzz makes its way to his ears and control stops being important.
His powers slip, colliding in small waves against Yoochun’s shield.
He closes his eyes and wonders, once, why does the barrier feel like the touch of a careful and mindful lover.
Not that Taemin has ever had one.
But.
It has to be like this the feeling everyone talks about. He can’t imagine something more comfortable and soft and hot and maybe the room temperature went up a few degrees because he is sweating as much as he does during those insufferable summer days he hates.
A flick of a thin and nice wrist claims his attention and he looks at Kibum, who is opening the turtle collar of his shirt. There is a drop of sweat sliding down his throat that captivates Taemin’s attention. Just when he thinks about moving forward and catching it, Jinki and Jonghyun try to reach it at the same time. The contact with each other, apparently, melts their original intention because they stare at their hands and keep making their fingers touch and the retreat.
A hand touches him and Taemin looks up to Yoochun. Being in contact with him increases exponentially how the barrier feels and he finds himself biting a moan.
“Jaejoong! They are making sparks when they touch!”
“Why do you see colours? Does Yunho see them too?” Taemin says, feeling courageous and stuttering with his words just a little bit, making his voice breathless, tipsy and just a notch lower.
“Only I can see them.”
Yoochun’s voice has a tinge of loneliness so strong that Taemin can smell it. It’s intoxicating and choking and he is feeling pain, a different one this time, more intense and wild and deep. Jaejoong pushes Yoochun away from him and caresses his trembling shoulders.
“Fucking shit Yoochun! Be careful!” Taemin breathes slowly and focuses on Jaejoong’s soothing touch. “Are you okay?”
“I think he is,” says Yunho. “Yoochun, go play with the other three. Jonghyun will enjoy being with Eunhyuk and Donghae. And Leeteuk wanted to talk with Jinki. Take care of Kibum for us, okay?”
Taemin knows that it is an order and Yoochun seems pleased enough to do as he is told, something he didn’t do when they went to meet them. Maybe Yunho is more serious this time and Yoochun simply knows he won’t accept a no.
“Drink another one,” says Jaejoong pointing to another shot glass that Yunho is filling for him.
It’s then when he realizes that there are two more empty ones that he had counted. Minho is holding his third in his hand and he is sweating more than Kibum and Taemin put together.
“Yes! Minho here seems to have a resistant body, and he has to feel as you do,” explains Jaejoong with a mysterious smile.
Taemin wants to ask why does he have to, but the glass is in his hand and Jaejoong urges him to drink it. The pain is worse. The hellish sensation is more intense, the burning is rawer, and it is his soul what shakes and contorts agonizing in a slow, torturing way.
And then, sharp as a dagger opening his flesh he feels it. Heaven. White nothingness that fades even Taemin himself and leaves only that hand on his lower back.
It burns, too, but it’s so much pleasure together that his power and the shield and his physical reactions talk what his mouth can’t say with words. Those non-existent words are replaced by a deep, throaty moan.
If Jaejoong’s drink is Hell, then Minho’s hand is Heaven.
Author: debsk
Claim: Minho/Taemin
Prompt: #14 - Heaven&Hell
Fandom: SHINee
Rating: PG
Word Count: 970
Summary: Taemin’s head is gone thanks to Jaejoong’s drink. With his second shot, he becomes sensations and feelings bottle inside useless skin, flesh and bones.
Notes/Warnings: This is an Alternative Universe with superpowers and mentions of much more people than the SHINee members. SM Town family is too interesting not to have them in the same AU. If you see mistakes or something that does not make sense, I would be thankful if you point it out ^_^
Written for Table Set 5 from 50ficlets. 40 to go.
My internet is not working and it won't be in the next weeks. I won't be able to be online and post. Once I get it back, I'll start posting every second day again.
1| 2| 3| 4| 5| 6| 7| 8| 9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14| 15| 16| 17| 18| 19| 20| 21| 22| 23| 24| 25| 26| 27| 28| 29| 30| 31| 32| 33| 34| 35| 36| 37| 38| 39| 40| 41| 42| 43| 44| 45| 46| 47| 48| 49| 50
#14 - Heaven&Hell
Taemin is not overly religious. He never was. He never believed in his mother’s gods passed successfully from generation to generation until he came along. He didn’t even care about one of the oldest religions of humanity, the one with followers since humanity was humanity that was all about duality and consequences. He went with his mother to worship gods, goddess, and later, when she decided to be active in the City’s all-powerful God, he was there with her but, even now that he is on the Army, he still thinks that they could be gods because they are the ones that have the power to safe their people.
That, in fact, doesn’t make him evade the religious metaphors in which he thinks as soon as he drinks Jaejoong’s beverage. If Heaven’s drink is Ambrosia, then this must be Hell’s.
First, there is burning.
Secondly, the extreme spiciness of it becomes way too much.
Thirdly he feels hurt because of mix between high levels of alcohol and spice.
All his nerves are telling him how big is the pain, first in his mouth then in his chest and then in the rest of him. Even his toes hurt. And there is not enough oxygen, and it’s hot and he is fighting screams and tears because some part of him still knows where he is and who is in the party and that Taemin is in front of the most powerful group of fighters the army has ever had. It wouldn’t do for his ambitions to show such a weak side of himself so he tries to fight it, tries to bite his screams and keep standing. More or less.
Luckily, Taemin isn’t the only one coughing. Jinki is doubling over himself, Kibum’s distaste is clearly shown in his face and Jonghyun is shouting profanities.
Minho is the only one that keeps some dignity after finishing his shot. Taemin, through his tears, can see Jaejoong’s pleased smile.
As sudden as it comes, the uncomfortable sensations fade away and Taemin’s head is just a bit less sharp than it was. He feels diluted around the corners, like an old painting that stayed too many times close to being sunk in water. A buzz makes its way to his ears and control stops being important.
His powers slip, colliding in small waves against Yoochun’s shield.
He closes his eyes and wonders, once, why does the barrier feel like the touch of a careful and mindful lover.
Not that Taemin has ever had one.
But.
It has to be like this the feeling everyone talks about. He can’t imagine something more comfortable and soft and hot and maybe the room temperature went up a few degrees because he is sweating as much as he does during those insufferable summer days he hates.
A flick of a thin and nice wrist claims his attention and he looks at Kibum, who is opening the turtle collar of his shirt. There is a drop of sweat sliding down his throat that captivates Taemin’s attention. Just when he thinks about moving forward and catching it, Jinki and Jonghyun try to reach it at the same time. The contact with each other, apparently, melts their original intention because they stare at their hands and keep making their fingers touch and the retreat.
A hand touches him and Taemin looks up to Yoochun. Being in contact with him increases exponentially how the barrier feels and he finds himself biting a moan.
“Jaejoong! They are making sparks when they touch!”
“Why do you see colours? Does Yunho see them too?” Taemin says, feeling courageous and stuttering with his words just a little bit, making his voice breathless, tipsy and just a notch lower.
“Only I can see them.”
Yoochun’s voice has a tinge of loneliness so strong that Taemin can smell it. It’s intoxicating and choking and he is feeling pain, a different one this time, more intense and wild and deep. Jaejoong pushes Yoochun away from him and caresses his trembling shoulders.
“Fucking shit Yoochun! Be careful!” Taemin breathes slowly and focuses on Jaejoong’s soothing touch. “Are you okay?”
“I think he is,” says Yunho. “Yoochun, go play with the other three. Jonghyun will enjoy being with Eunhyuk and Donghae. And Leeteuk wanted to talk with Jinki. Take care of Kibum for us, okay?”
Taemin knows that it is an order and Yoochun seems pleased enough to do as he is told, something he didn’t do when they went to meet them. Maybe Yunho is more serious this time and Yoochun simply knows he won’t accept a no.
“Drink another one,” says Jaejoong pointing to another shot glass that Yunho is filling for him.
It’s then when he realizes that there are two more empty ones that he had counted. Minho is holding his third in his hand and he is sweating more than Kibum and Taemin put together.
“Yes! Minho here seems to have a resistant body, and he has to feel as you do,” explains Jaejoong with a mysterious smile.
Taemin wants to ask why does he have to, but the glass is in his hand and Jaejoong urges him to drink it. The pain is worse. The hellish sensation is more intense, the burning is rawer, and it is his soul what shakes and contorts agonizing in a slow, torturing way.
And then, sharp as a dagger opening his flesh he feels it. Heaven. White nothingness that fades even Taemin himself and leaves only that hand on his lower back.
It burns, too, but it’s so much pleasure together that his power and the shield and his physical reactions talk what his mouth can’t say with words. Those non-existent words are replaced by a deep, throaty moan.
If Jaejoong’s drink is Hell, then Minho’s hand is Heaven.