[Fanfic] Fallen Angels
Title: Fallen Angels
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1.100
Summary: Minho went to the performance because Kibum asked him to but he ended falling under the guitarist spell all too quickly.
Notes: I wanted to try and write some little drabble at tumblr about Taemin playing the guitar but it got too long to be posted there.
It was all Kibum's idea. Of course it was Kibum's idea. Watching an indie band play wasn't Minho's way of enjoying his Fridays. He could be at the club, working his way into someone's pants, preferably Changmin’s. Or Nichkhun’s. Maybe even Yunho’s, if he hadn’t worked out his issues with his ex yet. Whoever. But no. Kibum had to drag him to this club to hear his last crush play.
"Which one did you say it was? The drummer?" he asked, looking up to the first member of the band. Kibum tiptoed to see, even if he was taller than average.
"No! The singer! The hot one!"
Minho snorted out of pure habit. Kibum was one of his best friends, which he supposed came because they had been living together since they got to Seoul. But not once in the three years that had passed since then, had they agreed on their definition of hot. Minho liked older men. Tall, athletic and dark haired older men.
"That dwarf?" he questioned when he saw a short guy with spiky hair entering the stage.
"The other one! He hasn't appeared yet! Wait and you'll see how hot he is! Besides, Jonghyun is straight!"
Minho looked Kibum in the eyes. It was good watching him feel excited again. Since his break-up with Dongwoon he hadn't being much like himself at all and he missed Kibum’s obnoxious personality. It wasn’t fun playing with him if he didn’t get Kibum’s sarcastic retorts in response.
Smiling, he looked up to the stage again to see a guy with soft brown hair approaching the blue guitar on a stall. He was undeniably pretty. Skinny. He woke up his interest immediately. Minho had the impression of watching someone out of place, that angelic face and big eyes somehow too pure to be up there with the rest of the band.
"Here he is! Isn't he hot! Oh my god! Look what he is wearing! ONEEE~~W!" screamed Kibum, jumping up and down, and successfully making him stop looking at the guitarist.
Minho spared a look at the singer. He wasn't that bad. It was better than what Kibum normally considered hot. This guy could be the first common ground they were going to be, even if Minho wasn’t specially attracted to him. His mind, treacherous, made him go back to where the skinny guy had closed his eyes.
"Heeellooooo everybody! This is Fallen Angels with you tonight! We’ve prepared out best songs and want to leave you all burning inside! Do you wanna rock with us? DO YOU WANNA ROCK?" the short guy was getting the audience worked up. Minho looked around to see people imitating Kibum's crazy behavior. He smiled, wishing he could get in the mood with them but not quite there yet. The energy floating around was too strong to ignore, though. “Let’s GO WITH LUCIFER!! Hit it, Taemin!”
A loud and sharp noise rose above the silence. Taemin, the guitarist, still had his eyes closed. Minho couldn’t help but look only at him, the rest of the world being reduced to a buzz at the back of his head. His eyes were fixated in how fast the hands moved over the bridge, playing note after note in a crescendo that exploded when one of the singers (he didn’t bother to look up to them to know who) screamed a high and long note.
Then, Taemin opened his eyes.
Whatever had made Minho think he was angelic burst when he breathed in how smoldering and passionate his eyes seemed. Sex. He looked like he wanted sex. Crazy, rough sex. His warm, innocent smile long forgotten, there was an edge of attitude in his pose, in how he stood there looking at the people at his feet. It was like he knew what they were thinking and he considered himself way too good for them. He got the feeling that Taemin enjoyed being out of reach and powerful and a puppet master.
Minho liked challenges too much to let it pass. At that moment, he knew he had to get him.
Not once did Taemin’s fingers stop flying over his guitar. He even bent during his solo and his perfectly cut hair covered his face. His hips were moving in time with the beat and his head shifted from one position to another whenever the drummer hit a strong note.
It was too easy to picture himself behind Taemin, grabbing his hair from behind, his other hand holding him in place while he thrust, hard and rough and a little bit desperate, into him.
When Taemin straightened again, Minho watched his eyes examine the crowd and stop at him. Just at him. He was barely conscious of staring, hard and lustful, but it must have been enough for Taemin to sense how he was completely captivated, enchanted by his presence.
The rest of the night flew, time playing a dirty trick on him. Minho stood there, looking at Taemin with a hundred different fantasies being played in his mind.
The show came to an end way too early for Minho’s liking but he was bold enough to ask Kibum if he really knew the band, if Taemin was straight or gay or what and if they could go talk to them after the show. His plans to go clubbing were completely forgotten. Kibum laughed but answered that yes, they would.
Without hesitation, he was dragged backstage. They went pass security, zooming through narrow corridors until Kibum shouted Jonghyun’s name as soon as they saw him. The lead singer stopped and called the rest of the guys before Kibum could tell him not to.
“The sooner you finish the sooner we can go celebrate how successful the performance was!” Kibum said, stepping up ahead to grab Onew’s hand. He glared at Jonghyun’s amused face and kept walking to their waiting room.
Only Taemin stayed behind.
Minho stopped too. So close, Taemin looked skinnier, prettier, more everything. He let his tongue run over his lips, suddenly too dry. It was his first time feeling so out of his comfort zone, unable to twist reality into something he could mold at his will. His words were stuck at his throat. But Taemin understood. His gaze, clouded and narrowed under heavy lids, still spoke of sex and bared every fantasy Minho had. He exposed all those silent desires in the space between them, filling it out with sexual tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. He checked him out, his eyes scalding hot over Minho’s skin.
When he reached Minho’s eyes again, Taemin smirked and turned around, leaving Minho staring stunned at his disappearing back.
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1.100
Summary: Minho went to the performance because Kibum asked him to but he ended falling under the guitarist spell all too quickly.
Notes: I wanted to try and write some little drabble at tumblr about Taemin playing the guitar but it got too long to be posted there.
It was all Kibum's idea. Of course it was Kibum's idea. Watching an indie band play wasn't Minho's way of enjoying his Fridays. He could be at the club, working his way into someone's pants, preferably Changmin’s. Or Nichkhun’s. Maybe even Yunho’s, if he hadn’t worked out his issues with his ex yet. Whoever. But no. Kibum had to drag him to this club to hear his last crush play.
"Which one did you say it was? The drummer?" he asked, looking up to the first member of the band. Kibum tiptoed to see, even if he was taller than average.
"No! The singer! The hot one!"
Minho snorted out of pure habit. Kibum was one of his best friends, which he supposed came because they had been living together since they got to Seoul. But not once in the three years that had passed since then, had they agreed on their definition of hot. Minho liked older men. Tall, athletic and dark haired older men.
"That dwarf?" he questioned when he saw a short guy with spiky hair entering the stage.
"The other one! He hasn't appeared yet! Wait and you'll see how hot he is! Besides, Jonghyun is straight!"
Minho looked Kibum in the eyes. It was good watching him feel excited again. Since his break-up with Dongwoon he hadn't being much like himself at all and he missed Kibum’s obnoxious personality. It wasn’t fun playing with him if he didn’t get Kibum’s sarcastic retorts in response.
Smiling, he looked up to the stage again to see a guy with soft brown hair approaching the blue guitar on a stall. He was undeniably pretty. Skinny. He woke up his interest immediately. Minho had the impression of watching someone out of place, that angelic face and big eyes somehow too pure to be up there with the rest of the band.
"Here he is! Isn't he hot! Oh my god! Look what he is wearing! ONEEE~~W!" screamed Kibum, jumping up and down, and successfully making him stop looking at the guitarist.
Minho spared a look at the singer. He wasn't that bad. It was better than what Kibum normally considered hot. This guy could be the first common ground they were going to be, even if Minho wasn’t specially attracted to him. His mind, treacherous, made him go back to where the skinny guy had closed his eyes.
"Heeellooooo everybody! This is Fallen Angels with you tonight! We’ve prepared out best songs and want to leave you all burning inside! Do you wanna rock with us? DO YOU WANNA ROCK?" the short guy was getting the audience worked up. Minho looked around to see people imitating Kibum's crazy behavior. He smiled, wishing he could get in the mood with them but not quite there yet. The energy floating around was too strong to ignore, though. “Let’s GO WITH LUCIFER!! Hit it, Taemin!”
A loud and sharp noise rose above the silence. Taemin, the guitarist, still had his eyes closed. Minho couldn’t help but look only at him, the rest of the world being reduced to a buzz at the back of his head. His eyes were fixated in how fast the hands moved over the bridge, playing note after note in a crescendo that exploded when one of the singers (he didn’t bother to look up to them to know who) screamed a high and long note.
Then, Taemin opened his eyes.
Whatever had made Minho think he was angelic burst when he breathed in how smoldering and passionate his eyes seemed. Sex. He looked like he wanted sex. Crazy, rough sex. His warm, innocent smile long forgotten, there was an edge of attitude in his pose, in how he stood there looking at the people at his feet. It was like he knew what they were thinking and he considered himself way too good for them. He got the feeling that Taemin enjoyed being out of reach and powerful and a puppet master.
Minho liked challenges too much to let it pass. At that moment, he knew he had to get him.
Not once did Taemin’s fingers stop flying over his guitar. He even bent during his solo and his perfectly cut hair covered his face. His hips were moving in time with the beat and his head shifted from one position to another whenever the drummer hit a strong note.
It was too easy to picture himself behind Taemin, grabbing his hair from behind, his other hand holding him in place while he thrust, hard and rough and a little bit desperate, into him.
When Taemin straightened again, Minho watched his eyes examine the crowd and stop at him. Just at him. He was barely conscious of staring, hard and lustful, but it must have been enough for Taemin to sense how he was completely captivated, enchanted by his presence.
The rest of the night flew, time playing a dirty trick on him. Minho stood there, looking at Taemin with a hundred different fantasies being played in his mind.
The show came to an end way too early for Minho’s liking but he was bold enough to ask Kibum if he really knew the band, if Taemin was straight or gay or what and if they could go talk to them after the show. His plans to go clubbing were completely forgotten. Kibum laughed but answered that yes, they would.
Without hesitation, he was dragged backstage. They went pass security, zooming through narrow corridors until Kibum shouted Jonghyun’s name as soon as they saw him. The lead singer stopped and called the rest of the guys before Kibum could tell him not to.
“The sooner you finish the sooner we can go celebrate how successful the performance was!” Kibum said, stepping up ahead to grab Onew’s hand. He glared at Jonghyun’s amused face and kept walking to their waiting room.
Only Taemin stayed behind.
Minho stopped too. So close, Taemin looked skinnier, prettier, more everything. He let his tongue run over his lips, suddenly too dry. It was his first time feeling so out of his comfort zone, unable to twist reality into something he could mold at his will. His words were stuck at his throat. But Taemin understood. His gaze, clouded and narrowed under heavy lids, still spoke of sex and bared every fantasy Minho had. He exposed all those silent desires in the space between them, filling it out with sexual tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. He checked him out, his eyes scalding hot over Minho’s skin.
When he reached Minho’s eyes again, Taemin smirked and turned around, leaving Minho staring stunned at his disappearing back.