(no subject)
The Bachelor (repost) 1/2
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Billionaire Choi Minho has 20 wonderful girls trying to win his heart. Sadly, he likes the pool boy a lot more.
“Take one!” someone cried loudly, breaking the peaceful aura settled over a gorgeous villa with high windows, surrounded by labyrinths of emerald green hedges and long patches of exotic flowers. There were white marble fountains gurgling in the background, accompanied the happy tunes of summer birds which gathered on the delicate blossoms dotting the carefully mowed lawn.
Wide pools with clear water sparkled in the daylight and the large artfully crafted gates were opened for whoever might want to visit the Choi mansion.
It truly would have been heaven on earth if it wasn't for the filming crew uncaringly stomping around on the grass, littering the whole area with blazing projectors, blinding mirrors, cameras and microphones. There were men smoking shamelessly, dropping cigarette stubs everywhere, ignorant to the gardeners’ efforts, and others leaving throwing trash into rows of manicured bushes.
This horror lasted for days as the final preparations were made until finally, on a warm morning in the middle of June, the cameras began to roll.
“On this lovely day, we have twenty beautiful ladies trying to fight for his heart.” the host said, winking as he walked down the marvellous stairs in front of the main building.
“Every man's dream, is it not? At the moment, all twenty of them are holding their breath, anxious to come out and steal their very own Prince Charming's heart. And... As an added bonus, the lucky girl that wins our Bachelor's affection will also obtain a million dollars - besides a billionaire boyfriend - of course.”
The man ranted about the prize and the girls, his voice loud and annoying. His makeup was so thick that the owner of the villa, standing a few feet away from the main set, could almost see it melting under the sun.
Ridiculous, Minho shook his head, lips stuck in a permanent frown. A stylist called for his attention, announcing that he needs some foundation since it's his time to shine in a few minutes.
The tall heir rolled his eyes, but followed the lady to through one of the back doors of his house regardless.
“You don't seem too happy,” the make-up artist voiced her observations after Minho had sank into a comfortable armchair. Giving her an unimpressed look, Minho leaned back as she turned to fumble with her cosmetics kit.
“That's because I'm not.”
The noona wasn't fazed by Minho's cold tone, trying out a few different tones on his cheek to find the perfect match before wiping his face with a cotton pad.
“Oh? Didn't you want to be in this show?”
Minho closed his eyes as she worked her magic, wishing to hear sweet silence, he was accustomed to. The noise had been intolerable lately, but he had no way to stop it. “No, I didn't.”
“But what's so bad about having all those pretty girls running after you and trying to please you every way possible? Isn't that what all men want?” she said absentmindedly, smearing the cream under his eyes while giving the troubled man an encouraging smile. “Oh, come on, I know it is.”
“I was forced into this.” Minho sneered, averting his eyes as he recalled the incident a few months ago. His father, a legendary football coach and the owner of a several very famous teams, had decided that Minho should get married.
Minho was a quiet, proper heir, not too spoiled but not arrogant either. He had gone through his share of girls and satisfied his curiosity about them but hadn’t met one captivating enough for him to want to spend his life with her. Honestly. Minho plenty of more pressing issues to worry about - like those rookies threatening one of their best team's position in the World Cup.
Aah, Minho got pissed just thinking about it.
Soccer aside, Minho's father had figured it would be a brilliant idea for him to pick out some suitable young ladies and have them try to woo his stoic son. After a conversation with a friend that just happened to own an entertainment company, Mr. Choi agreed to the idea of earning some extra money on the affair. Thus, Minho’s search for a spouse was turned into a show and broadcasted to the entire country.
“Aww, I'm sure you'll find someone you like here, they’re all beautiful. Or, well, no one says you have to actually choose one of them and date her.” the woman said, once she was finished, placing her brushes aside.
Minho huffed, considering her words. It was obvious that in a way, she was right, since the audience wouldn’t care about anything but the drama and the happy ending. But his father would be disappointed in him, if all this trouble went to waste.
“Choi Minho-sshi!” a man with thick glasses entered the room, frantically waving with a stack of papers, “five minutes until your dramatic entrance! You need to get into position!”
“Outside, then?”
The man, probably an errand boy of sorts, Minho assumed, snorted ather disrespectfully.
“No, no, Choi-sshi, you’ll be staying inside. You're entering the scene, not the house, so you be walking out of the main door.” he explained slowly, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.
“Very well, then. Let’s get this over with.”
“Good luck!” the make-up artist told Minho as he brushed past her without looking back. While the lady had been nothing but pleasant to him, Minho was tired of exchanging mindless pleasantries with people he couldn’t care less for.
Sighing, Minho passed the main corridor, pausing for a minute to gaze mournfully at his destroyed garden. He could vaguely make out the silhouettes of the twenty girls standing in line by the pond of water lilies in front of the mansion and the numerous cameras circling around them to give each a solo shots.
Reluctant to leave the coolness of his home, Minho strolled past the paintings of his ancestors - as he came from a line of long-forgotten nobility - reaching the lobby right on time.
Two of his butlers waited by the entrance, backs straight and expressions uncharacteristically serious. Minho sent them a fleeting smile.
Then the man with the glasses flicked his wrist in the servants’ direction, giving the signal they’d agreed on and the two men pushed the grand double doors open. Minho casually stuck a hand into the pocket of his trousers and walked with a swagger he knew left an impression.
The lens flare was too bright so he almost missed a step but his reactions were quick so no one noticed.
He took his place by the host, facing the girls who at first glance seemed nothing but a pile of deadly sharp shoes, basically nonexistent neon dresses and huge puffs of straightened, colored, striped, curled hair.
This was going to be hell.
The introductions took hours, since some of the ladies kept messing up and insisted on re-takes. By the time he was finally let off, Minho’s face was stiff from forced smiles. Not one of the twenty appealed to him. In fact, he was wondering if they ran out of brains in the barbie store halfway through the recording.
When the night fell, the glamorous gold-diggers were safely locked into his posh little guest house with hidden cameras to capture their interactions and Minho finally got some time for himself.
He was sweaty and sore from standing in the sun for nearly a whole day, so taking a dip sounded like an excellent idea.
The filming crew packed up and left for the night while Minho stripped himself of his close and pulled on some swimming trunks. By the time he was done, there was not a soul in sight and the distant sounds coming from his female suitors were easy to ignore.
Minho had always liked wandering around at night so there were some fairy lights hung around his garden. While he was upset to see that some had been taken off by the show staff, the ones behind the mansion twinkled brightly as Minho approached.
The man dropped his towel by the shimmering pool and was about to jump into the welcoming water, when he heard a splash, followed by footsteps.
He squinted his eyes, confident that the security was so tight around his estate that trespassing was impossible. But indeed, there was a figure on the other side of the pool, moving around in the shadows.
For a second, Minho amused himself with the thought of it was his main gardner crying over the ruined lawn, but when he got closer, he realized that it wasn’t so.
In fact, it seemed to be a stranger.
“Hey, you!” Minho called out, curious rather than angry, “you there! I can see you! What are you doing there?”
The person - seemingly a male teenager, whirled around, elbows bending and then straightening. He didn’t acknowledge Minho’s presence or gave any reaction. Weirded out, Minho sneaked closer and heard the guy hum lowly, eyes closed. It made sense once Minho noticed the headphones the teen was wearing.
So there was a stranger dancing in his garden.
He had to admit, that such occurrences didn’t happen any day so he was quite entertained when the teen all but came crashing into Minho.
The guy jumped, letting out a frightened squeak as it registered in his head that no trees or stones felt as soft or warm as what he had bumped into. His eyes finally flew open with shock, moonlight glittering in them as the teen jerked back in horror.
He, the stranger, was a lot smaller than Minho had originally thought. His clothes, a loose tank top and a pair of shorts, hung on his lithe frame almost suggestively; his auburn curls, mussed up by the gentle breeze, were the perfect frame for his rounded face. His nose was small and his lips were thick, he licked them nervously.
For a moment, Minho doubted if the person was male, the simple beauty of his features catching him off guard. But as he looked closer, the teen standing there, frozen, Minho noticed the teen's adam's apple bobbing up and down in an anxious fashion.
“Who are you?” he asked gently, convincing himself that he was only tired and the night was beautiful, that’s was why his heart was thumping in his ears.
The teen blinked and gave him a hasty bow. “I-I'm Lee Taemin, sir... The new pool boy,”
He wasn’t lying. There was, indeed, the usual equipment lying on the edge of the pool. Misinterpreting Minho’s questioning stare, Taemin rested his headphones around his neck and ducked his head, “I’m very sorry, sir, I was listening to some music while working and got slightly distracted, and, uh... I’ll get right back to work if that’s oka-”
“Why are you here so late, though?” Minho inquired, giving the teen a small smile to assure him that he wasn’t mad.
Taemin's eyes flickered around restlessly before answering. “Uh, I- I go to school and... I was told that they're filming something here during daytime. So I thought I should stay away until they’re done so I don’t bother anyone,” he said, scratching the back of his head self-consciously.
“Oh...” Minho was quite sure he caught the worker checking him out, and he unconsciously flexed to make his muscles more prominent. He knew he had a nice body so it was only natural to show off.
“I guess that’s a good idea, as long as it doesn’t get in the way of your studies.”
Minho couldn’t contain the smirk when the pretty teen's eyes slipped down his happy trail. His mirth turned into disappointment, though, when those enchanting orbs lowered even further, not stopping on his trunks as Minho had expected them to.
“Yeah, um... So. Who are you? Sir?” Taemin asked innocently, taking in Minho's unusual attire before locking gazes with the man.
“You don’t know about me?”
Since the kid was probably hired by the gardener, Minho hadn’t had any business with him, but still, it was kind of offending that Taemin didn’t know the name of his employer. Nor had he read any newspapers or watched TV, or so it seemed.
Taemin was genuinely puzzled, squatting by the pool and messing with the nets. “Uh, no, should I?”
It was always fun, in a slightly sadistic way, for Minho to declare his name and status and watch how people paled with fear, crawling at his feet with amazement, respect and greed. Taemin looked at him earnestly, without any pretense and Minho didn’t want those beautiful eyes of his to become jaded. Not after meeting all those girls who only saw dollar signs in him.
As the silence stretched, Taemin became uncomfortable and tried to hide his fidgeting by clutching the handle of a brush. It was kind of endearing.
“Nah... Just wondering. This is my cousin's house so most people around here know me.” Minho announced smoothly, pleased when the pool boy gaped at both him and the villa.
“This is your cousins house? Seriously? Woah, he must be so rich. Way cool! Uh. I mean. Very nice, sir?”
Minho chuckled, “Please don’t call me “sir,” it makes me feel awfully old.”
A chill crept up his spine so Minho decided not to delay his swim any longer and poked the azure surface with his big toe. It seemed nice and warm. Taemin said something, but Minho dived into the water and missed it.
He poked his head out a few seconds later and brushed dark locks out of his face. He was surprised to find that he wanted to prolong the conversation with Taemin, so he swam back to the edge where Taemin was sitting. The teen was preoccupied with untangling the strings on one of the nets and Minho used it to his favor, throwing a handful of water in his face. For a whole minute, Taemin just stared at him, his fringe dripping wet and clinging to his forehead. Then, he rubbed the chlorine out of his eyes and his lips curved into a playful pout.
Tugging his sandals off his feet, Taemin stuck his legs in the water, trying to fight fire with fire, or in this case - water with water.
The teen squealed when Minho grabbed hold of his left ankle and used it to pull him into the pool. Losing his balance completely, Taemin slipped off the ledge and Minho moved on instinct, winding his arms around the teen’s middle so he wouldn’t hit his head.
“Thanks,” Taemin whispered, even though Minho had caused his fall in the first place. Their faces were so close that Minho could see his own reflection in Taemin’s eyes.
He cleared his throat, retracting his arms and croaking out a “no problem.”
“Uh. So... What are you doing here, not-sir?” Taemin mocked Minho after having hoisted himself back on the edge and reclaimed his previous position. The atmosphere was still loaded and Minho cleared his throat before answering.
With his arms on the ledge, Minho attempted to unsee the way Taemin’s clothes stuck to his body. He wondered if the teen was cold. “Hyung. And... For now I'm just resting. Like, on a vacation, chilling around.”
Taemin pursed his lips in concentration as the knot he was trying to tie with wet fingers gave in. “Doesn't the filming bother you, hyung?”
Minho was more than happy to distract himself by groaning about the horror he had to live through. “Oh, it does. This show itself is pointless. Today was just day one of filming and I can already see, that it’s going to be awful.” he complained, groaning when he thought of all the weeks ahead.
“What's the show about anyways?”
Perplexed, since the teen really seemed out of date with the latest news, Minho ranted about its purpose and goal, whining rather than giving an accurate description. Taemin listened to him patiently nonetheless, emitting light giggles at the right places and managing to ease Minho’s frustration. Even as the teen skipped around the pool, catching little leaves that had fallen into water, Minho followed him.
Time went far too fast in Minho’s humble opinion, and soon, the boy had finished cleaning and excused himself with a shiver. Minho felt slightly guilty for taking advantage of the teen’s kindness and rambling, but he felt indescribably lighter, happy even.
He watched as Taemin disappeared behind the bushes and trees with a friendly grin and a wave, happier than he had been for a while.
-
The next day was even more stressful than the previous, and Minho cursed under his breath, remembering that he could eliminate only one girl once the week ended. After lunch, he was supposed to spend some time privately with each of the girls to get to know them better.
A woman with long caramel-colored tresses offered to sing him a song agreed out of boredom. It was bearable at first, but only until she started shaking her hips and moving closer, intending to give him a lap dance. Instead of being arousing, Minho was disgusted.
There were many more incidents similar to that one, as most of the ladies planned get to his heart through his bed.
Minho rolled his eyes disbelievingly as a girl with obviously fake eyelashes wanted to give him a massage, her long nails clawing at the material of his jeans.
By the time he was allowed to leave the set for a minute, Minho was quite sure he was going to be mentally scarred. He hated making small-talk, flirting with people he’d rather never see again and pretending to have a good time.
Stroking his temples, he let his feet carry him away from the crew, praying that none of the girls would follow him. He ended up by the pool, and found himself staring at the spot between the trees where he’d first seen Taemin, as if expecting the teen to appear magically.
His headache lessened somewhat when he imagined bitching about the day’s happenings to the teen and how Taemin would shyly conceal his giggles behind his hand.
Just thinking about it made his lips quirk upwards and it was rather troubling since he had no idea when Taemin would be back.
Scowling and checking his watch to see how many minutes he had left before the gardener's official working hours would be over, Minho rushed over to the hut he’d never actually been in, taking the old man by surprise.
“Is the pool cleaned every day?” he demanded hurriedly, as the man stood up in his dirty trunks, a chair topping over.
“Yes... It is, master Choi. Every day... I-is something wrong with it?”
“Ah, no. That’s perfect. Carry on.” Minho shook his head before taking his leave, unannounced as he came.
To say that the gardener was baffled would be a major understatement.
The rest of the evening passed a whole lot faster when Minho had something to look forward to. While listening to different girls whose faces he couldn’t yet memorize, rant about their lives, Minho made a list of things he wanted to ask Taemin.
It bothered him that he knew nothing but the boy's name.
Besides that, he also made up a plausible story about why he was there, his relationship with his cousin, everything he thought Taemin might be curious about. The girls ended up being completely shut out and while the producer said that the Ice Prince image didn’t really fit him, Minho couldn’t care less.
When he finally snapped out of his daze, the sun was setting, the shoot had ended and the girls were safely in their dorm.
Stretching to get the kinks out of his back, Minho headed straight into the mansion to change his clothes. As he passed, people patted him on the shoulder, saying “Good job!” or similar empty phrases, and Minho answered with the same out of politeness.
He undressed himself with uncharacteristic sloppiness, leaving his outfit of the day bundled up on the floor. No, he was not in a hurry to see the pool boy, absolutely not. All he wanted was a nice relaxing swim.
On his way out of his bedroom, Minho came to a halt in front of the mirror, adjusting his bangs and yanking his trunks an inch lower to show more skin. His reflection gave him a knowing smile, which just screamed yeah, keep telling yourself that.
Exiting the house, Minho wondered if he should have brushed his teeth for a brief moment and felt like whacking himself.
But he couldn't deny the fluttery tingle in his chest when he noticed Taemin already moving around doing his job near the pool. Unlike on the previous night, Minho didn’t hesitate to walk closer.
“Hey,” he called out, but the teen didn't seem to notice, whistling some tune with his back towards Minho. Deciding to surprise Taemin, Minho then dove into the clear water.
As expected, when Minho came up and flipped his fringe out of his eyes elegantly. Taemin was watching his movements with a friendly smile.
“Oh, hey, you’re here,” Minho said coolly
“Hey yourself.” Taemin answered with amusement, acting as if he hadn't heard Minho earlier or seen him approach. ”How has your day been so far?” the teen asked casually, grabbing what looked like a huge butterfly net and waving it in the air a few times.
“Boring. Yours?”
Taemin lowered the thing into the pool, successfully managing to capture a twig. “Well, same, I guess. School is... School. How was the filming?”
Minho took hold of the net mischievously, releasing it only when Taemin huffed with frustration.
“Well, for starters, today was supposed to be-”
Again, Minho found himself talking freely, openly, effortlessly, without filtering his words. Taemin filled the pauses between his sentences with his own thoughts, even sharing some stories of his life when Minho changed the subject.
Even though Taemin wasn’t into sports, which was Minho's favorite topic of discussion, the millionaire was pleased to find Taemin intelligent and witty.
When Taemin sneezed, Minho forced him into one of his hoodies. Taemin protested and said it wasn’t necessary, but Minho felt guilty for getting him soaking wet on the night before. The hoodie was probably more expensive than anything Taemin had worn before, but it was worth it - the dazzling smile he gave Minho lit up the whole world.
-
Days passed and Minho made an effort to accept the girls and their flaws for the sake of tolerating them. After a while, Minho even befriended some and he was praised for opening up and finally remembering their names. He still treated them as nothing but acquaintances, not even as friends, unable to forget the reason why they were there.
It was a sweltering hot afternoon when received a call from his father that complicated everything. He knew no to expect anything good, as Choi Yungyum only delivered bad news personally. But since he had already been forbidden from taking part in business during the show, Minho had no clue what else his father could have in store for him.
“You have two months left until the end of filming. I expect you to marry the girl you pick out of these twenty. Choose wisely.”
The line went dead before Minho had a chance to reply. Dread burned at the pit of his stomach as he processed his father’s message.
He couldn't imagine marrying one of the vultures his father had tricked him into meeting, however rich and beautiful they were. He didn't want to. He was completely opposed to it.
Why, he wasn't sure.
Shaking himself out of his trance, Minho tossed his cell phone on his bed. At the moment, he had more important things to focus on and besides, he was a grown man with the right to object. It wasn’t like his father would disown him...
Right?
Putting that aside, Minho sauntered into his closet with a complentative frown on his lips. He’d been careless with the sunscreen on that day so his neck and shoulders were quite tender and he didn’t really feel like going into water. He still planned to go meet Taemin, though.The teen had yet to see him in clothes other than swim shorts so Minho wanted to impress him.
In Minho’s opinion, they had become great friends.
The pool boy called him “hyung,” not knowing Minho’s name. He didn’t seem bothered by that missing piece of information since their conversations were as long as ever, about everything and anything that came to their minds under the moonlight.
Minho couldn’t remember ever being as giddy and nervous.
There was an outdoors party coming up in the Bachelor show, during which Minho would have to flirt and dance with the remaining fourteen ladies under the stars. The garden was already decorated, rounded white bulbs adorning the trees.There was a small stage for a live band and a dancefloor, with many cushioned seats around it. It was going to look even prettier on the following night, MInho was told.
Thanks to the added light, Minho could finally observe the way Taemin’s mouth curved into a smile, the blush that dusted his cheeks. Minho was fascinated with Taemin’s lips parting and stretching around the vowels and consonants as he spoke, with the stubborn curl that refused to stay tucked behind his ear.
“Taeminnie,” Minho teased, grinning as Taemin grumbled,“the filming is at night tomorrow.”
He regretted informing Taemin immediately since the pool boy’s shoulders slumped with disappointment. Minho hoped Taemin wasn’t fond of getting a free night not because he loved his job, but because of their meetings.
“But it's Saturday, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Taemin agreed, moving the net with less enthusiasm. “Yeah. It is. So I guess I can just come during the day then?”
Minho scowled, bending over splashing him with some more water to stop him from sulking. He had practiced all sorts of pretty lines in front of his bathroom mirror earlier, but none of them seemed to fit the mood so he went with the flow. “Well, you could do that, but it wasn’t what I meant. It's Saturday. A free day. So you don't have school?”
“Hmm? No I don't.”
Gentle eyes darkened with curiosity, and Minho bit into his lower lip so to keep himself from incoherently blurting his idea out. Taemin raised an eyebrow at his friend's antics.
“So~?” he sing-songed slyly, already guessing where this was headed.
“So. I was just thinking. I'm bored hanging out on the set. And you're free from school. And, uh, we're always kind of in the dark and stuff. What I’m trying to say is - I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out in sunlight? Like, tomorrow?”
After Minho finished his awkward little rant, Taemin gave him a delighted smile, coupled with soft chuckles that soon grew into full laughter. Minho was slightly embarrassed but enjoyed Taemin’s reaction.
“Sure, hyung,” the teen said, drying some mock-tears from the corners of his eyes. “Way to get worked up over nothing,” he added, just to make the man even more self-conscious.
Minho glowered, “Yeah, whatever.”
“What about the pool, though?”
Sitting on one of the loungers to get out of Taemin’s way, Minho shrugged. “I could get you a day off, I think? It’s not like anyone’s actually using it much.”
Taemin brightened up considerably, especially after Minho proposed that they should hook the teen’s ipod to the speakers already brought outside. Minho had assumed Taemin listened to something like hip-hop or club music like most teenagers so he was taken aback when the first chords of a slow ballad drifted through the evening air.
Bashfully ducking his head, Taemin continued cleaning the pool, but Minho didn’t comment. He stole a glance or two in the man’s direction to find him staring at the ground with a dopey smile.
It was kind of romantic.
-
Minho didn’t get much sleep that night, eyes locked on the ceiling above as he considered all the ways he could mess up on the next day.
“It’s not a date,” he told the heavy bordeaux red curtains concealing the wide windows. Even he didn’t believe it.
On Saturday morning, Minho wasn’t far from panicking. He poked at his professional-chef-made breakfast, feeling sick in his stomach. Must have gotten ill, the part in Minho still in denial prompted.
He spent a while selecting which car to take, lingering between his cherry red ferrari and a silver jaguar he’d gotten as a gift from his brother a few years ago - with a note that it should be used for picking up girls. Minho ended up snatching the keys for the ferrari just because they were only friends hanging out. He definitely wasn’t trying to impress or anything.
Sliding into the leather seat of the sleek convertible, Minho sent a mental thanks to the directors of the show, who had let the girls visit a beauty salon to get ready for the party.
They had agreed to meet right by the gates, outside of the estate since Taemin wasn’t allowed to enter off work hours and there the teen was, right on time.
Minho had to admit that this Taemin was rather different from Minho's dear pool boy.
Taemin’s work clothes were usually stretched out and a few sizes too large for him. On that day, though, he was wearing black skinnies which brought out the length of his legs, a simple white tee with some red writings on it and a small black vest. His hair seemed brighter and tamed, for once and Minho had never noticed the piercings in his ears.
Breath hitching in his throat, Minho checked the teen out rather shamelessly. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he wondered if Taemin had troubles getting into those tight pants, if they were easily removed.
“Ah, hey,” Taemin greeted, leaning down and giving Minho a glimpse of his chest “Hey, hyung? Anybody home in there?”
Coughing, Minho offered Taemin a hesitant smile which the younger gladly returned, rounding the car and claiming the passengers’ seat. Minho had a hard time not seeing the material of his trousers stretch over his thighs.
“So... Where are we going?”
Minho was glad that he had remembered to take his shades, so at least his gaping wasn't obvious.
“I said, where are we going, hyung?”
“Uh.” Minho grunted unintelligibly, licking his suddenly dry lips as Taemin wriggled to make himself comfortable. Every single one of his actions seemed alarmingly sexual to Minho and he wanted nothing but to press him into that leather seat and peel those jeans off.
Lost in a daydream, Minho was startled by the hand Taemin waved in front of his face, worried about his friend not feeling well.
“Yeah?”
“Hyung? Are you okay? If you’re not feeling well, you should-”
Fuck him into the nearest solid surface, yes? A droplet of sweat ran down Taemin’s neck and Minho was mesmerised.
“-go back inside? You don’t look so good, seriously, hyung. We can do this another time if you want to...”
And Taemin was suddenly in his personal space, an awfully adorable and flabbergasted expression on his pretty face.
“Hey?”
“What?” Minho snapped, a tone harsher than he intended and flinched away from the teen as his own speedy heartbeat frightened him. “What were you saying?”
Taemin pouted, “Hyung. You just totally blanked out on me. It was seriously creepy.”
“Oh, shut up. It’s the heat.”
“You’re in heat?”
Taemin giggled when Minho furrowed his brows, staying silent as all the responses he came up with were too inappropriate and fumbling with the gear stick. Taemin was amazed by the interior of the machine, toying with the glove compartment. His presence was seriously bad for Minho’s sanity, the man noted, starting the engine and taking off.
The wind felt nice on his sun-warmed skin and Minho stepped on the gas pedal just to make Taemin squeal. Neither of them felt forced to chat as they drove through streets glistening with melting asphalt, but once they got to the highway, Taemin messed around with the buttons on the dashboard, finding some random radio station and turning up the volume.
It had been years since the last time Minho felt as free as he did then.
They went to a cozy restaurant when Taemin’s stomach started rumbling. The teen flushed and apologized, saying that he had been too nervous to eat. Minho was more than flattered. .
Without giving it much thought, Minho ordered a three-course meal for them both, consisting of the most expensive items on the menu.
“Won't your cousin be pissed at you for wasting his money?” Taemin asked, voicing his concern after Minho reassured him that it’s okay to eat as much as he wants, he’ll be paying.
“No,” Minho said conspicuously, mimicking the teen and leaning over the table just as Taemin had a few seconds ago, “That way he can make up for... Uh, not spending any time with me.”
“Ahh, so it’s like that. I guess that makes sense. Not that it’s cool of him since he is your close relative...”
Minho nodded to whatever Taemin said, not really listening. He couldn’t help it, Taemin’s lips were plump and exquisitely soft, so cursedly inviting that Minho had half a mind to just steal him away.
“... kinda sad, you came all the way here to see him and-”
“Don’t worry, I’m having fun,” Minho interrupted him with a smirk. “I met you, didn’t I?”
Snapping his mouth shut and blinking quickly, uncertain what to make out of Minho’s words, Taemin covered his reddening cheeks with his palms. The meaningful look Minho regarded him with confused him even further - was the man flirting with him?
“I’m... Mm. Happy that we met, too,” the teen squeaked out and the delicate subject was dropped as their appetizers and drinks arrived.
Using the excuse of admiring the food, Taemin composed himself quickly, brushing off the awkwardness and changing the topic to something more neutral. The teen seemed to have a good time complementing the chefs and telling Minho about this guy in his dance class, who bragged about being the best cook ever but could only make basic things.
All the while, Minho was in a state of perplexment. It was as if a spell had been cast on him the moment he saw Taemin that day and he was experienced enough to recognize that the feelings he had for the teen surpassed those of a friend.
He had never really been romantic, Minho’s former relationships consisted of simple dinner dates and casual sex. But the manner in which Taemin gawked at his surroundings, the chandeliers, the silverware, the other visitors, made Minho want to show him everything this world had to offer.
It was a novel, not to say alien emotion, the one Minho held for Taemin.
Everything about Taemin was beautiful to Minho, even his occasionally lame jokes. He wished to please and protect the teen, was terribly worried when Taemin seemed sad. Remembering the lessons of love he’d learned from sappy movies and his over-dramatic ex-girlfriends, it wasn’t hard to guess these were the primary symptoms of being in love.
Warning bells went off in his head as Taemin took a bite out of his salad and a piece of tomato fell on the white table cloth. The teen fussed, eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed and MInho almost cooed.
Wanting Taemin like that was impossible for him, ridiculous, yes?
As if on cue, Minho’s chest got painfully tight. His heart seemed to swell in a way that couldn’t be healthy when Taemin daintily dabbed the corners of his mouth with a tissue.
Okay, damn, he was totally smitten.
Minho was a man whose actions spoke louder than his words. Normally, he kept to himself as much as he could, not speaking up unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. He wasn’t good at words, hinting or confessing. Instead, he wondered how the teen would react if Minho kissed him then and there.
It didn’t actually seem like a bad plan, but Minho lacked the courage and feared that Taemin might dislike it. There wasn’t much tying them together besides Taemin’s job and it would be easy for the teen to disappear from Minho’s life by quitting.
Thus, Minho kept smiling warmly Taemin, amused by his chatter.
Time passed way too quick for Minho’s liking and they decided to go for a drive around the city after lunch. Taemin fit into the seat of Minho’s car very well, the man found himself thinking, he looked good by Minho’s side.
Taemin showed him to his high school and they parked the car near the building Taemin lovingly called the bane of his existence to go for a walk. Minho was never one to take much interest in people’s lives, but when Taemin led him around, taking him to the places he frequented and sharing childhood stories, he wished the boy would never stop.
When they reached the dance studio Taemin spent most of his free afternoons at, Taemin turned to Minho with an excited grin.
“This kind of feels like a date, don't you think?”
Startled, Minho watched as Taemin skipped up the steps leading to the front door of the studio. The teen really was more clever and observant than he let on.
“It could be one, you never know,” he replied, winking at the boy, “depends on what you want it to be.”
Taemin spared him a coy smile, latching onto the door handle. Minho wasn’t sure
if he heard correctly, but it sounded like Taemin muttered a “then it's a date,” before vanishing into the house.
Elated and laughing with relief, Minho jogged up the stairs, taking two steps at once. How strange - in the past, so many people had tried and failed to break through Minho’s shell and then suddenly a teen too pretty to be a boy came along and simply understood him.
The rest of the hanging-out-turned-date consisted of light chatting and easy silences. Minho tried to coax Taemin into dancing for him and teased the teen endlessly when he refused, claiming to be too shy.
Taemin took him to the playground he used to play on as a kid and pointed out the trees he had claimed. Minho was told about Taemin’s mom's favorite shopping place and how he had tried his first cigarette behind the store. Minho felt infinitely honored to be able to learn about Taemin from the teen himself.
When he wound his fingers around Taemin’s wrist, the boy gave a little yelp, but allowed himself to be pulled closer.
It got too late too soon and Minho’s phone beeped with a text from the director - shooting starts in an hour. The only thing that cheered him up about was that Taemin seemed just as reluctant to say goodbye as Minho was.
He pulled the teen into a hug and while Taemin was tense at first, he certainly didn’t oppose to the closeness, his hands fastening around Minho’s neck.
“See you tomorrow?” Minho asked softly, drawing away from the teen and instantly missing the feel of Taemin’s body pressed to his own. He couldn’t help but to tease the boy a little bit more, though, pecking his cheek before Taemin could move away.
Taemin nodded speechlessly and Minho headed to his car with a wave.
Regaining his breath, Taemin turned on his heel. He had been careful to keep a distance between them, to not ask his hyung anything, not even his name but it was getting difficult.
The man was on a vacation and would be gone once it ended. Taemin should avoid getting attached. To hyung, whatever they had was nothing but a summer fling.
It hurt, those thoughts.
Infected with lovesickness, Taemin wished the man would've kissed him more, kissed his lips, kissed him all over. As a high school student, he wasn't innocent anymore, but with Minho, it was like being in love for the very first time all over again.
Only a lot better.
Part 2/2
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Billionaire Choi Minho has 20 wonderful girls trying to win his heart. Sadly, he likes the pool boy a lot more.
“Take one!” someone cried loudly, breaking the peaceful aura settled over a gorgeous villa with high windows, surrounded by labyrinths of emerald green hedges and long patches of exotic flowers. There were white marble fountains gurgling in the background, accompanied the happy tunes of summer birds which gathered on the delicate blossoms dotting the carefully mowed lawn.
Wide pools with clear water sparkled in the daylight and the large artfully crafted gates were opened for whoever might want to visit the Choi mansion.
It truly would have been heaven on earth if it wasn't for the filming crew uncaringly stomping around on the grass, littering the whole area with blazing projectors, blinding mirrors, cameras and microphones. There were men smoking shamelessly, dropping cigarette stubs everywhere, ignorant to the gardeners’ efforts, and others leaving throwing trash into rows of manicured bushes.
This horror lasted for days as the final preparations were made until finally, on a warm morning in the middle of June, the cameras began to roll.
“On this lovely day, we have twenty beautiful ladies trying to fight for his heart.” the host said, winking as he walked down the marvellous stairs in front of the main building.
“Every man's dream, is it not? At the moment, all twenty of them are holding their breath, anxious to come out and steal their very own Prince Charming's heart. And... As an added bonus, the lucky girl that wins our Bachelor's affection will also obtain a million dollars - besides a billionaire boyfriend - of course.”
The man ranted about the prize and the girls, his voice loud and annoying. His makeup was so thick that the owner of the villa, standing a few feet away from the main set, could almost see it melting under the sun.
Ridiculous, Minho shook his head, lips stuck in a permanent frown. A stylist called for his attention, announcing that he needs some foundation since it's his time to shine in a few minutes.
The tall heir rolled his eyes, but followed the lady to through one of the back doors of his house regardless.
“You don't seem too happy,” the make-up artist voiced her observations after Minho had sank into a comfortable armchair. Giving her an unimpressed look, Minho leaned back as she turned to fumble with her cosmetics kit.
“That's because I'm not.”
The noona wasn't fazed by Minho's cold tone, trying out a few different tones on his cheek to find the perfect match before wiping his face with a cotton pad.
“Oh? Didn't you want to be in this show?”
Minho closed his eyes as she worked her magic, wishing to hear sweet silence, he was accustomed to. The noise had been intolerable lately, but he had no way to stop it. “No, I didn't.”
“But what's so bad about having all those pretty girls running after you and trying to please you every way possible? Isn't that what all men want?” she said absentmindedly, smearing the cream under his eyes while giving the troubled man an encouraging smile. “Oh, come on, I know it is.”
“I was forced into this.” Minho sneered, averting his eyes as he recalled the incident a few months ago. His father, a legendary football coach and the owner of a several very famous teams, had decided that Minho should get married.
Minho was a quiet, proper heir, not too spoiled but not arrogant either. He had gone through his share of girls and satisfied his curiosity about them but hadn’t met one captivating enough for him to want to spend his life with her. Honestly. Minho plenty of more pressing issues to worry about - like those rookies threatening one of their best team's position in the World Cup.
Aah, Minho got pissed just thinking about it.
Soccer aside, Minho's father had figured it would be a brilliant idea for him to pick out some suitable young ladies and have them try to woo his stoic son. After a conversation with a friend that just happened to own an entertainment company, Mr. Choi agreed to the idea of earning some extra money on the affair. Thus, Minho’s search for a spouse was turned into a show and broadcasted to the entire country.
“Aww, I'm sure you'll find someone you like here, they’re all beautiful. Or, well, no one says you have to actually choose one of them and date her.” the woman said, once she was finished, placing her brushes aside.
Minho huffed, considering her words. It was obvious that in a way, she was right, since the audience wouldn’t care about anything but the drama and the happy ending. But his father would be disappointed in him, if all this trouble went to waste.
“Choi Minho-sshi!” a man with thick glasses entered the room, frantically waving with a stack of papers, “five minutes until your dramatic entrance! You need to get into position!”
“Outside, then?”
The man, probably an errand boy of sorts, Minho assumed, snorted ather disrespectfully.
“No, no, Choi-sshi, you’ll be staying inside. You're entering the scene, not the house, so you be walking out of the main door.” he explained slowly, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.
“Very well, then. Let’s get this over with.”
“Good luck!” the make-up artist told Minho as he brushed past her without looking back. While the lady had been nothing but pleasant to him, Minho was tired of exchanging mindless pleasantries with people he couldn’t care less for.
Sighing, Minho passed the main corridor, pausing for a minute to gaze mournfully at his destroyed garden. He could vaguely make out the silhouettes of the twenty girls standing in line by the pond of water lilies in front of the mansion and the numerous cameras circling around them to give each a solo shots.
Reluctant to leave the coolness of his home, Minho strolled past the paintings of his ancestors - as he came from a line of long-forgotten nobility - reaching the lobby right on time.
Two of his butlers waited by the entrance, backs straight and expressions uncharacteristically serious. Minho sent them a fleeting smile.
Then the man with the glasses flicked his wrist in the servants’ direction, giving the signal they’d agreed on and the two men pushed the grand double doors open. Minho casually stuck a hand into the pocket of his trousers and walked with a swagger he knew left an impression.
The lens flare was too bright so he almost missed a step but his reactions were quick so no one noticed.
He took his place by the host, facing the girls who at first glance seemed nothing but a pile of deadly sharp shoes, basically nonexistent neon dresses and huge puffs of straightened, colored, striped, curled hair.
This was going to be hell.
The introductions took hours, since some of the ladies kept messing up and insisted on re-takes. By the time he was finally let off, Minho’s face was stiff from forced smiles. Not one of the twenty appealed to him. In fact, he was wondering if they ran out of brains in the barbie store halfway through the recording.
When the night fell, the glamorous gold-diggers were safely locked into his posh little guest house with hidden cameras to capture their interactions and Minho finally got some time for himself.
He was sweaty and sore from standing in the sun for nearly a whole day, so taking a dip sounded like an excellent idea.
The filming crew packed up and left for the night while Minho stripped himself of his close and pulled on some swimming trunks. By the time he was done, there was not a soul in sight and the distant sounds coming from his female suitors were easy to ignore.
Minho had always liked wandering around at night so there were some fairy lights hung around his garden. While he was upset to see that some had been taken off by the show staff, the ones behind the mansion twinkled brightly as Minho approached.
The man dropped his towel by the shimmering pool and was about to jump into the welcoming water, when he heard a splash, followed by footsteps.
He squinted his eyes, confident that the security was so tight around his estate that trespassing was impossible. But indeed, there was a figure on the other side of the pool, moving around in the shadows.
For a second, Minho amused himself with the thought of it was his main gardner crying over the ruined lawn, but when he got closer, he realized that it wasn’t so.
In fact, it seemed to be a stranger.
“Hey, you!” Minho called out, curious rather than angry, “you there! I can see you! What are you doing there?”
The person - seemingly a male teenager, whirled around, elbows bending and then straightening. He didn’t acknowledge Minho’s presence or gave any reaction. Weirded out, Minho sneaked closer and heard the guy hum lowly, eyes closed. It made sense once Minho noticed the headphones the teen was wearing.
So there was a stranger dancing in his garden.
He had to admit, that such occurrences didn’t happen any day so he was quite entertained when the teen all but came crashing into Minho.
The guy jumped, letting out a frightened squeak as it registered in his head that no trees or stones felt as soft or warm as what he had bumped into. His eyes finally flew open with shock, moonlight glittering in them as the teen jerked back in horror.
He, the stranger, was a lot smaller than Minho had originally thought. His clothes, a loose tank top and a pair of shorts, hung on his lithe frame almost suggestively; his auburn curls, mussed up by the gentle breeze, were the perfect frame for his rounded face. His nose was small and his lips were thick, he licked them nervously.
For a moment, Minho doubted if the person was male, the simple beauty of his features catching him off guard. But as he looked closer, the teen standing there, frozen, Minho noticed the teen's adam's apple bobbing up and down in an anxious fashion.
“Who are you?” he asked gently, convincing himself that he was only tired and the night was beautiful, that’s was why his heart was thumping in his ears.
The teen blinked and gave him a hasty bow. “I-I'm Lee Taemin, sir... The new pool boy,”
He wasn’t lying. There was, indeed, the usual equipment lying on the edge of the pool. Misinterpreting Minho’s questioning stare, Taemin rested his headphones around his neck and ducked his head, “I’m very sorry, sir, I was listening to some music while working and got slightly distracted, and, uh... I’ll get right back to work if that’s oka-”
“Why are you here so late, though?” Minho inquired, giving the teen a small smile to assure him that he wasn’t mad.
Taemin's eyes flickered around restlessly before answering. “Uh, I- I go to school and... I was told that they're filming something here during daytime. So I thought I should stay away until they’re done so I don’t bother anyone,” he said, scratching the back of his head self-consciously.
“Oh...” Minho was quite sure he caught the worker checking him out, and he unconsciously flexed to make his muscles more prominent. He knew he had a nice body so it was only natural to show off.
“I guess that’s a good idea, as long as it doesn’t get in the way of your studies.”
Minho couldn’t contain the smirk when the pretty teen's eyes slipped down his happy trail. His mirth turned into disappointment, though, when those enchanting orbs lowered even further, not stopping on his trunks as Minho had expected them to.
“Yeah, um... So. Who are you? Sir?” Taemin asked innocently, taking in Minho's unusual attire before locking gazes with the man.
“You don’t know about me?”
Since the kid was probably hired by the gardener, Minho hadn’t had any business with him, but still, it was kind of offending that Taemin didn’t know the name of his employer. Nor had he read any newspapers or watched TV, or so it seemed.
Taemin was genuinely puzzled, squatting by the pool and messing with the nets. “Uh, no, should I?”
It was always fun, in a slightly sadistic way, for Minho to declare his name and status and watch how people paled with fear, crawling at his feet with amazement, respect and greed. Taemin looked at him earnestly, without any pretense and Minho didn’t want those beautiful eyes of his to become jaded. Not after meeting all those girls who only saw dollar signs in him.
As the silence stretched, Taemin became uncomfortable and tried to hide his fidgeting by clutching the handle of a brush. It was kind of endearing.
“Nah... Just wondering. This is my cousin's house so most people around here know me.” Minho announced smoothly, pleased when the pool boy gaped at both him and the villa.
“This is your cousins house? Seriously? Woah, he must be so rich. Way cool! Uh. I mean. Very nice, sir?”
Minho chuckled, “Please don’t call me “sir,” it makes me feel awfully old.”
A chill crept up his spine so Minho decided not to delay his swim any longer and poked the azure surface with his big toe. It seemed nice and warm. Taemin said something, but Minho dived into the water and missed it.
He poked his head out a few seconds later and brushed dark locks out of his face. He was surprised to find that he wanted to prolong the conversation with Taemin, so he swam back to the edge where Taemin was sitting. The teen was preoccupied with untangling the strings on one of the nets and Minho used it to his favor, throwing a handful of water in his face. For a whole minute, Taemin just stared at him, his fringe dripping wet and clinging to his forehead. Then, he rubbed the chlorine out of his eyes and his lips curved into a playful pout.
Tugging his sandals off his feet, Taemin stuck his legs in the water, trying to fight fire with fire, or in this case - water with water.
The teen squealed when Minho grabbed hold of his left ankle and used it to pull him into the pool. Losing his balance completely, Taemin slipped off the ledge and Minho moved on instinct, winding his arms around the teen’s middle so he wouldn’t hit his head.
“Thanks,” Taemin whispered, even though Minho had caused his fall in the first place. Their faces were so close that Minho could see his own reflection in Taemin’s eyes.
He cleared his throat, retracting his arms and croaking out a “no problem.”
“Uh. So... What are you doing here, not-sir?” Taemin mocked Minho after having hoisted himself back on the edge and reclaimed his previous position. The atmosphere was still loaded and Minho cleared his throat before answering.
With his arms on the ledge, Minho attempted to unsee the way Taemin’s clothes stuck to his body. He wondered if the teen was cold. “Hyung. And... For now I'm just resting. Like, on a vacation, chilling around.”
Taemin pursed his lips in concentration as the knot he was trying to tie with wet fingers gave in. “Doesn't the filming bother you, hyung?”
Minho was more than happy to distract himself by groaning about the horror he had to live through. “Oh, it does. This show itself is pointless. Today was just day one of filming and I can already see, that it’s going to be awful.” he complained, groaning when he thought of all the weeks ahead.
“What's the show about anyways?”
Perplexed, since the teen really seemed out of date with the latest news, Minho ranted about its purpose and goal, whining rather than giving an accurate description. Taemin listened to him patiently nonetheless, emitting light giggles at the right places and managing to ease Minho’s frustration. Even as the teen skipped around the pool, catching little leaves that had fallen into water, Minho followed him.
Time went far too fast in Minho’s humble opinion, and soon, the boy had finished cleaning and excused himself with a shiver. Minho felt slightly guilty for taking advantage of the teen’s kindness and rambling, but he felt indescribably lighter, happy even.
He watched as Taemin disappeared behind the bushes and trees with a friendly grin and a wave, happier than he had been for a while.
-
The next day was even more stressful than the previous, and Minho cursed under his breath, remembering that he could eliminate only one girl once the week ended. After lunch, he was supposed to spend some time privately with each of the girls to get to know them better.
A woman with long caramel-colored tresses offered to sing him a song agreed out of boredom. It was bearable at first, but only until she started shaking her hips and moving closer, intending to give him a lap dance. Instead of being arousing, Minho was disgusted.
There were many more incidents similar to that one, as most of the ladies planned get to his heart through his bed.
Minho rolled his eyes disbelievingly as a girl with obviously fake eyelashes wanted to give him a massage, her long nails clawing at the material of his jeans.
By the time he was allowed to leave the set for a minute, Minho was quite sure he was going to be mentally scarred. He hated making small-talk, flirting with people he’d rather never see again and pretending to have a good time.
Stroking his temples, he let his feet carry him away from the crew, praying that none of the girls would follow him. He ended up by the pool, and found himself staring at the spot between the trees where he’d first seen Taemin, as if expecting the teen to appear magically.
His headache lessened somewhat when he imagined bitching about the day’s happenings to the teen and how Taemin would shyly conceal his giggles behind his hand.
Just thinking about it made his lips quirk upwards and it was rather troubling since he had no idea when Taemin would be back.
Scowling and checking his watch to see how many minutes he had left before the gardener's official working hours would be over, Minho rushed over to the hut he’d never actually been in, taking the old man by surprise.
“Is the pool cleaned every day?” he demanded hurriedly, as the man stood up in his dirty trunks, a chair topping over.
“Yes... It is, master Choi. Every day... I-is something wrong with it?”
“Ah, no. That’s perfect. Carry on.” Minho shook his head before taking his leave, unannounced as he came.
To say that the gardener was baffled would be a major understatement.
The rest of the evening passed a whole lot faster when Minho had something to look forward to. While listening to different girls whose faces he couldn’t yet memorize, rant about their lives, Minho made a list of things he wanted to ask Taemin.
It bothered him that he knew nothing but the boy's name.
Besides that, he also made up a plausible story about why he was there, his relationship with his cousin, everything he thought Taemin might be curious about. The girls ended up being completely shut out and while the producer said that the Ice Prince image didn’t really fit him, Minho couldn’t care less.
When he finally snapped out of his daze, the sun was setting, the shoot had ended and the girls were safely in their dorm.
Stretching to get the kinks out of his back, Minho headed straight into the mansion to change his clothes. As he passed, people patted him on the shoulder, saying “Good job!” or similar empty phrases, and Minho answered with the same out of politeness.
He undressed himself with uncharacteristic sloppiness, leaving his outfit of the day bundled up on the floor. No, he was not in a hurry to see the pool boy, absolutely not. All he wanted was a nice relaxing swim.
On his way out of his bedroom, Minho came to a halt in front of the mirror, adjusting his bangs and yanking his trunks an inch lower to show more skin. His reflection gave him a knowing smile, which just screamed yeah, keep telling yourself that.
Exiting the house, Minho wondered if he should have brushed his teeth for a brief moment and felt like whacking himself.
But he couldn't deny the fluttery tingle in his chest when he noticed Taemin already moving around doing his job near the pool. Unlike on the previous night, Minho didn’t hesitate to walk closer.
“Hey,” he called out, but the teen didn't seem to notice, whistling some tune with his back towards Minho. Deciding to surprise Taemin, Minho then dove into the clear water.
As expected, when Minho came up and flipped his fringe out of his eyes elegantly. Taemin was watching his movements with a friendly smile.
“Oh, hey, you’re here,” Minho said coolly
“Hey yourself.” Taemin answered with amusement, acting as if he hadn't heard Minho earlier or seen him approach. ”How has your day been so far?” the teen asked casually, grabbing what looked like a huge butterfly net and waving it in the air a few times.
“Boring. Yours?”
Taemin lowered the thing into the pool, successfully managing to capture a twig. “Well, same, I guess. School is... School. How was the filming?”
Minho took hold of the net mischievously, releasing it only when Taemin huffed with frustration.
“Well, for starters, today was supposed to be-”
Again, Minho found himself talking freely, openly, effortlessly, without filtering his words. Taemin filled the pauses between his sentences with his own thoughts, even sharing some stories of his life when Minho changed the subject.
Even though Taemin wasn’t into sports, which was Minho's favorite topic of discussion, the millionaire was pleased to find Taemin intelligent and witty.
When Taemin sneezed, Minho forced him into one of his hoodies. Taemin protested and said it wasn’t necessary, but Minho felt guilty for getting him soaking wet on the night before. The hoodie was probably more expensive than anything Taemin had worn before, but it was worth it - the dazzling smile he gave Minho lit up the whole world.
-
Days passed and Minho made an effort to accept the girls and their flaws for the sake of tolerating them. After a while, Minho even befriended some and he was praised for opening up and finally remembering their names. He still treated them as nothing but acquaintances, not even as friends, unable to forget the reason why they were there.
It was a sweltering hot afternoon when received a call from his father that complicated everything. He knew no to expect anything good, as Choi Yungyum only delivered bad news personally. But since he had already been forbidden from taking part in business during the show, Minho had no clue what else his father could have in store for him.
“You have two months left until the end of filming. I expect you to marry the girl you pick out of these twenty. Choose wisely.”
The line went dead before Minho had a chance to reply. Dread burned at the pit of his stomach as he processed his father’s message.
He couldn't imagine marrying one of the vultures his father had tricked him into meeting, however rich and beautiful they were. He didn't want to. He was completely opposed to it.
Why, he wasn't sure.
Shaking himself out of his trance, Minho tossed his cell phone on his bed. At the moment, he had more important things to focus on and besides, he was a grown man with the right to object. It wasn’t like his father would disown him...
Right?
Putting that aside, Minho sauntered into his closet with a complentative frown on his lips. He’d been careless with the sunscreen on that day so his neck and shoulders were quite tender and he didn’t really feel like going into water. He still planned to go meet Taemin, though.The teen had yet to see him in clothes other than swim shorts so Minho wanted to impress him.
In Minho’s opinion, they had become great friends.
The pool boy called him “hyung,” not knowing Minho’s name. He didn’t seem bothered by that missing piece of information since their conversations were as long as ever, about everything and anything that came to their minds under the moonlight.
Minho couldn’t remember ever being as giddy and nervous.
There was an outdoors party coming up in the Bachelor show, during which Minho would have to flirt and dance with the remaining fourteen ladies under the stars. The garden was already decorated, rounded white bulbs adorning the trees.There was a small stage for a live band and a dancefloor, with many cushioned seats around it. It was going to look even prettier on the following night, MInho was told.
Thanks to the added light, Minho could finally observe the way Taemin’s mouth curved into a smile, the blush that dusted his cheeks. Minho was fascinated with Taemin’s lips parting and stretching around the vowels and consonants as he spoke, with the stubborn curl that refused to stay tucked behind his ear.
“Taeminnie,” Minho teased, grinning as Taemin grumbled,“the filming is at night tomorrow.”
He regretted informing Taemin immediately since the pool boy’s shoulders slumped with disappointment. Minho hoped Taemin wasn’t fond of getting a free night not because he loved his job, but because of their meetings.
“But it's Saturday, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Taemin agreed, moving the net with less enthusiasm. “Yeah. It is. So I guess I can just come during the day then?”
Minho scowled, bending over splashing him with some more water to stop him from sulking. He had practiced all sorts of pretty lines in front of his bathroom mirror earlier, but none of them seemed to fit the mood so he went with the flow. “Well, you could do that, but it wasn’t what I meant. It's Saturday. A free day. So you don't have school?”
“Hmm? No I don't.”
Gentle eyes darkened with curiosity, and Minho bit into his lower lip so to keep himself from incoherently blurting his idea out. Taemin raised an eyebrow at his friend's antics.
“So~?” he sing-songed slyly, already guessing where this was headed.
“So. I was just thinking. I'm bored hanging out on the set. And you're free from school. And, uh, we're always kind of in the dark and stuff. What I’m trying to say is - I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out in sunlight? Like, tomorrow?”
After Minho finished his awkward little rant, Taemin gave him a delighted smile, coupled with soft chuckles that soon grew into full laughter. Minho was slightly embarrassed but enjoyed Taemin’s reaction.
“Sure, hyung,” the teen said, drying some mock-tears from the corners of his eyes. “Way to get worked up over nothing,” he added, just to make the man even more self-conscious.
Minho glowered, “Yeah, whatever.”
“What about the pool, though?”
Sitting on one of the loungers to get out of Taemin’s way, Minho shrugged. “I could get you a day off, I think? It’s not like anyone’s actually using it much.”
Taemin brightened up considerably, especially after Minho proposed that they should hook the teen’s ipod to the speakers already brought outside. Minho had assumed Taemin listened to something like hip-hop or club music like most teenagers so he was taken aback when the first chords of a slow ballad drifted through the evening air.
Bashfully ducking his head, Taemin continued cleaning the pool, but Minho didn’t comment. He stole a glance or two in the man’s direction to find him staring at the ground with a dopey smile.
It was kind of romantic.
-
Minho didn’t get much sleep that night, eyes locked on the ceiling above as he considered all the ways he could mess up on the next day.
“It’s not a date,” he told the heavy bordeaux red curtains concealing the wide windows. Even he didn’t believe it.
On Saturday morning, Minho wasn’t far from panicking. He poked at his professional-chef-made breakfast, feeling sick in his stomach. Must have gotten ill, the part in Minho still in denial prompted.
He spent a while selecting which car to take, lingering between his cherry red ferrari and a silver jaguar he’d gotten as a gift from his brother a few years ago - with a note that it should be used for picking up girls. Minho ended up snatching the keys for the ferrari just because they were only friends hanging out. He definitely wasn’t trying to impress or anything.
Sliding into the leather seat of the sleek convertible, Minho sent a mental thanks to the directors of the show, who had let the girls visit a beauty salon to get ready for the party.
They had agreed to meet right by the gates, outside of the estate since Taemin wasn’t allowed to enter off work hours and there the teen was, right on time.
Minho had to admit that this Taemin was rather different from Minho's dear pool boy.
Taemin’s work clothes were usually stretched out and a few sizes too large for him. On that day, though, he was wearing black skinnies which brought out the length of his legs, a simple white tee with some red writings on it and a small black vest. His hair seemed brighter and tamed, for once and Minho had never noticed the piercings in his ears.
Breath hitching in his throat, Minho checked the teen out rather shamelessly. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he wondered if Taemin had troubles getting into those tight pants, if they were easily removed.
“Ah, hey,” Taemin greeted, leaning down and giving Minho a glimpse of his chest “Hey, hyung? Anybody home in there?”
Coughing, Minho offered Taemin a hesitant smile which the younger gladly returned, rounding the car and claiming the passengers’ seat. Minho had a hard time not seeing the material of his trousers stretch over his thighs.
“So... Where are we going?”
Minho was glad that he had remembered to take his shades, so at least his gaping wasn't obvious.
“I said, where are we going, hyung?”
“Uh.” Minho grunted unintelligibly, licking his suddenly dry lips as Taemin wriggled to make himself comfortable. Every single one of his actions seemed alarmingly sexual to Minho and he wanted nothing but to press him into that leather seat and peel those jeans off.
Lost in a daydream, Minho was startled by the hand Taemin waved in front of his face, worried about his friend not feeling well.
“Yeah?”
“Hyung? Are you okay? If you’re not feeling well, you should-”
Fuck him into the nearest solid surface, yes? A droplet of sweat ran down Taemin’s neck and Minho was mesmerised.
“-go back inside? You don’t look so good, seriously, hyung. We can do this another time if you want to...”
And Taemin was suddenly in his personal space, an awfully adorable and flabbergasted expression on his pretty face.
“Hey?”
“What?” Minho snapped, a tone harsher than he intended and flinched away from the teen as his own speedy heartbeat frightened him. “What were you saying?”
Taemin pouted, “Hyung. You just totally blanked out on me. It was seriously creepy.”
“Oh, shut up. It’s the heat.”
“You’re in heat?”
Taemin giggled when Minho furrowed his brows, staying silent as all the responses he came up with were too inappropriate and fumbling with the gear stick. Taemin was amazed by the interior of the machine, toying with the glove compartment. His presence was seriously bad for Minho’s sanity, the man noted, starting the engine and taking off.
The wind felt nice on his sun-warmed skin and Minho stepped on the gas pedal just to make Taemin squeal. Neither of them felt forced to chat as they drove through streets glistening with melting asphalt, but once they got to the highway, Taemin messed around with the buttons on the dashboard, finding some random radio station and turning up the volume.
It had been years since the last time Minho felt as free as he did then.
They went to a cozy restaurant when Taemin’s stomach started rumbling. The teen flushed and apologized, saying that he had been too nervous to eat. Minho was more than flattered. .
Without giving it much thought, Minho ordered a three-course meal for them both, consisting of the most expensive items on the menu.
“Won't your cousin be pissed at you for wasting his money?” Taemin asked, voicing his concern after Minho reassured him that it’s okay to eat as much as he wants, he’ll be paying.
“No,” Minho said conspicuously, mimicking the teen and leaning over the table just as Taemin had a few seconds ago, “That way he can make up for... Uh, not spending any time with me.”
“Ahh, so it’s like that. I guess that makes sense. Not that it’s cool of him since he is your close relative...”
Minho nodded to whatever Taemin said, not really listening. He couldn’t help it, Taemin’s lips were plump and exquisitely soft, so cursedly inviting that Minho had half a mind to just steal him away.
“... kinda sad, you came all the way here to see him and-”
“Don’t worry, I’m having fun,” Minho interrupted him with a smirk. “I met you, didn’t I?”
Snapping his mouth shut and blinking quickly, uncertain what to make out of Minho’s words, Taemin covered his reddening cheeks with his palms. The meaningful look Minho regarded him with confused him even further - was the man flirting with him?
“I’m... Mm. Happy that we met, too,” the teen squeaked out and the delicate subject was dropped as their appetizers and drinks arrived.
Using the excuse of admiring the food, Taemin composed himself quickly, brushing off the awkwardness and changing the topic to something more neutral. The teen seemed to have a good time complementing the chefs and telling Minho about this guy in his dance class, who bragged about being the best cook ever but could only make basic things.
All the while, Minho was in a state of perplexment. It was as if a spell had been cast on him the moment he saw Taemin that day and he was experienced enough to recognize that the feelings he had for the teen surpassed those of a friend.
He had never really been romantic, Minho’s former relationships consisted of simple dinner dates and casual sex. But the manner in which Taemin gawked at his surroundings, the chandeliers, the silverware, the other visitors, made Minho want to show him everything this world had to offer.
It was a novel, not to say alien emotion, the one Minho held for Taemin.
Everything about Taemin was beautiful to Minho, even his occasionally lame jokes. He wished to please and protect the teen, was terribly worried when Taemin seemed sad. Remembering the lessons of love he’d learned from sappy movies and his over-dramatic ex-girlfriends, it wasn’t hard to guess these were the primary symptoms of being in love.
Warning bells went off in his head as Taemin took a bite out of his salad and a piece of tomato fell on the white table cloth. The teen fussed, eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed and MInho almost cooed.
Wanting Taemin like that was impossible for him, ridiculous, yes?
As if on cue, Minho’s chest got painfully tight. His heart seemed to swell in a way that couldn’t be healthy when Taemin daintily dabbed the corners of his mouth with a tissue.
Okay, damn, he was totally smitten.
Minho was a man whose actions spoke louder than his words. Normally, he kept to himself as much as he could, not speaking up unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. He wasn’t good at words, hinting or confessing. Instead, he wondered how the teen would react if Minho kissed him then and there.
It didn’t actually seem like a bad plan, but Minho lacked the courage and feared that Taemin might dislike it. There wasn’t much tying them together besides Taemin’s job and it would be easy for the teen to disappear from Minho’s life by quitting.
Thus, Minho kept smiling warmly Taemin, amused by his chatter.
Time passed way too quick for Minho’s liking and they decided to go for a drive around the city after lunch. Taemin fit into the seat of Minho’s car very well, the man found himself thinking, he looked good by Minho’s side.
Taemin showed him to his high school and they parked the car near the building Taemin lovingly called the bane of his existence to go for a walk. Minho was never one to take much interest in people’s lives, but when Taemin led him around, taking him to the places he frequented and sharing childhood stories, he wished the boy would never stop.
When they reached the dance studio Taemin spent most of his free afternoons at, Taemin turned to Minho with an excited grin.
“This kind of feels like a date, don't you think?”
Startled, Minho watched as Taemin skipped up the steps leading to the front door of the studio. The teen really was more clever and observant than he let on.
“It could be one, you never know,” he replied, winking at the boy, “depends on what you want it to be.”
Taemin spared him a coy smile, latching onto the door handle. Minho wasn’t sure
if he heard correctly, but it sounded like Taemin muttered a “then it's a date,” before vanishing into the house.
Elated and laughing with relief, Minho jogged up the stairs, taking two steps at once. How strange - in the past, so many people had tried and failed to break through Minho’s shell and then suddenly a teen too pretty to be a boy came along and simply understood him.
The rest of the hanging-out-turned-date consisted of light chatting and easy silences. Minho tried to coax Taemin into dancing for him and teased the teen endlessly when he refused, claiming to be too shy.
Taemin took him to the playground he used to play on as a kid and pointed out the trees he had claimed. Minho was told about Taemin’s mom's favorite shopping place and how he had tried his first cigarette behind the store. Minho felt infinitely honored to be able to learn about Taemin from the teen himself.
When he wound his fingers around Taemin’s wrist, the boy gave a little yelp, but allowed himself to be pulled closer.
It got too late too soon and Minho’s phone beeped with a text from the director - shooting starts in an hour. The only thing that cheered him up about was that Taemin seemed just as reluctant to say goodbye as Minho was.
He pulled the teen into a hug and while Taemin was tense at first, he certainly didn’t oppose to the closeness, his hands fastening around Minho’s neck.
“See you tomorrow?” Minho asked softly, drawing away from the teen and instantly missing the feel of Taemin’s body pressed to his own. He couldn’t help but to tease the boy a little bit more, though, pecking his cheek before Taemin could move away.
Taemin nodded speechlessly and Minho headed to his car with a wave.
Regaining his breath, Taemin turned on his heel. He had been careful to keep a distance between them, to not ask his hyung anything, not even his name but it was getting difficult.
The man was on a vacation and would be gone once it ended. Taemin should avoid getting attached. To hyung, whatever they had was nothing but a summer fling.
It hurt, those thoughts.
Infected with lovesickness, Taemin wished the man would've kissed him more, kissed his lips, kissed him all over. As a high school student, he wasn't innocent anymore, but with Minho, it was like being in love for the very first time all over again.
Only a lot better.
Part 2/2