Afternoon Antics
Title: Afternoon Antics (Morning Distraction Part 3)
Author: manaphasm
Rating: NC-17 because Minho doesn't like to lose.
Pairing: Minho/Onew
Summary: This one time, at dance practice...
Cookies to my beta, wishunew, for bullying me into writing this, and then making me angry enough to make it way better than it was. ^_^
They’d been at the studio all morning working on dance routines, and during that time, Onew constantly felt Minho’s eyes on him, watching his every move. By lunch, he could tell the younger boy was ready to jump him at any second, so it came as no surprise to him when, hours later, on the way to the locker room, the younger boy, having allowed the rest of the group to get ahead of him, grabbed the leader by the back of his sweat-soaked shirt, causing a small squeak and “Yah! Minho-ah!” to escape the boy’s mouth as he was pulled into an empty supply closet, his face a canvas of confusion.
Shoving the older boy into the wall at the back of the closet, Minho leaned into him, drawing him into a rough, needy kiss; lips crashing firmly, teeth pressing against them, nearly clacking. He ran his hands down Onew’s sides, rubbing and squeezing, then gripped the older boy’s hips, pulling the singer to him. Catching on quickly, Jinki’s legs parted, just a little, as Minho’s knee slipped between them, and the rapper began tugging at his leader’s pants.
The two boys kissed and nipped at one another in heated frenzy; Minho grazing his lips and teeth along the older boy’s jaw for a moment or two, then allowing Jinki to nibble at his ear, to drag his tongue along the side of his face, down the slope of his neck, only to go back, and meet once more at the middle; lips, teeth, tongues, and saliva, all combining in an array of hot, wet sensation; breathing the same, recycled puffs of air as their eyes met in lust-clouded stares.
Onew’s hands worked their way up under the younger boy’s shirt, massaging the firm muscles of Minho’s abdomen as the rapper’s own hands made their way down to the leader’s backside, kneading into the toned flesh through the older boy’s boxers. The singer tugged at Minho’s shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift movement, before returning his hands to their exploration. He rubbed a soft thumb over one the rapper’s nipples, pressing upon it, pinching it, dragging a fingernail over it, before leaning forward to lick it; mouth latching on, bringing it to attention, before moving on to its double.
The rapper quickly sucked on a couple of fingers, working them with his tongue until they were slippery with spit. Sliding his hand into the older boy’s boxers, he dragged his slick fingers along Jinki’s hot entrance. Pressing at it, his finger slid inside with only slightly less resistance than that morning, making the older boy whimper. Minho smirked; the older boy had tightened up again. He pushed the finger in, scraping along the heated, still-resistant walls, searching for that bundle of nerves. Onew sucked in a breath, squirming up against the younger boy. Found it, Minho thought, grinning as he pushed a second finger inside the older boy’s tight heat. Onew released soft mewls as the rapper’s fingers began to tease his prostate. The two fingers worked in harmony, twisting together then pulling apart, brushing against Jinki’s sweet spot, pulling away, then pressing close once more, as the singer writhed in Minho’s unyielding hold, curling up against him and panting hot, steamy breaths and soft moans against the rapper’s smooth chest.
With his other hand, Minho reached into the front of the singer’s boxers, taking hold of the older boy’s thick manhood, massaging it in time with his strokes of the boy’s prostate. Jinki’s breath hitched, a small whine fleeing his throat, and his hands, now latched firmly onto the younger boy’s shoulders, curled up; finger nails digging in, leaving little, pink half-moons all along the rapper’s flesh, as he shook and groaned with release. The younger boy continued stroking until the trembles subsided, feeling a slimy wetness spreading into his hand. Sliding his own pants and boxers down, the rapper used the older boy’s essence to make his own cock as slick as his saliva had rendered his fingers. Hitching the leader further up along the wall, Minho adjusted Jinki’s legs around his waist, lining himself up along the older boy’s stretched entrance. Onew leaned forward, kissing the younger boy softly, granting his silent permission, then rest his head upon Minho’s shoulder, nuzzling the younger boy’s neck as he slowly plunged in.
With a sharp intake of breath and a choked cry, the singer’s fingers curled up for a second time, his eyes closing tight as his whole body went rigid. “It hurts,” he whispered, a small tear sliding down his face, pooling against the younger boy’s chest as he thought, I didn’t think it would hurt like this. The rapper paused in his movements, his hands massaging at his leader’s thighs, urging the boy to relax. Jinki breathed in and out slow, shuddering breaths against the younger boy’s chest until his body became pliant once more. “Are you okay?” Minho asked, his voice low and breathy. He had little experience; didn’t really know what he was doing, or if he was doing it right. He tried to keep still inside the singer, despite his cock pulsing against the heat, eager to move, to brush against his hyung’s insides, to create that blissful friction he knew they should both be feeling, and not this strange, unheard of pain making the leader cry. The older boy nodded slowly, his hair tickling against the rapper’s skin. “Okay,” he said, “go.” Taking that cue, Minho began to move again, pushing the rest of the way in, aiming for the spot that would set his leader off again.
The singer’s back arched as Minho brushed against it, before pulling out, only a touch faster than he had pushed in. It started out awkward and untimed. Minho would thrust in with a moan, brushing against the older boy’s prostate, and Onew would let out a muffled yelp; the sting and soreness of having something foreign inside of him merging with the gratifying strokes of the younger boy’s cock along his inner walls, against that little bundle of nerves, until neither boy could tell the difference. Slowly, with each prod, each sigh, each exchange of saliva during mid-thrust kisses, they reached a cadence. In a lingering rhythm, the younger boy thrust in and out, tapping his hyung’s secret spot each time, making the older boy writhe wantonly against him, both boy’s panting and moaning, crying out at the heat; the impossible, wonderful searing of flesh within flesh.
“Harder,” Jinki would sigh, “faster,” until, with a final groan, Onew shook in release once more, spilling scorching fluids between the two boys. Minho came close behind, his own hot, sticky seed coating the older boy’s insides, leaking a little at the edges to spread between Jinki’s thighs alongside a small splatter of blood; the sign of the older boy’s ravished state. As his breathing returned to normal, Minho leaned down to spread kiss after hot, wet kiss along Jinki’s shoulder and neck, until the older boy lifted his head, eyes a little teary, but offering the rapper a wobbly smile, and kissed him on the lips, soft and gentle; chaste.
Down the hall, they could hear the loud chatter of their friends. Key’s voice could be picked out above the others, complaining, “Where have they gone off to? When I get ahold of them…” The rest of his threats were drowned out by the laughter of Taemin and Jonghyun.
“We should wait ‘til they pass by,” Minho whispered. Onew nodded against his chest, before pulling away to redress. As the hallway grew quiet once more, the two snuck away from their secret hiding place, sweaty and smiling and swapping secret, tender gazes.
Author: manaphasm
Rating: NC-17 because Minho doesn't like to lose.
Pairing: Minho/Onew
Summary: This one time, at dance practice...
Cookies to my beta, wishunew, for bullying me into writing this, and then making me angry enough to make it way better than it was. ^_^
They’d been at the studio all morning working on dance routines, and during that time, Onew constantly felt Minho’s eyes on him, watching his every move. By lunch, he could tell the younger boy was ready to jump him at any second, so it came as no surprise to him when, hours later, on the way to the locker room, the younger boy, having allowed the rest of the group to get ahead of him, grabbed the leader by the back of his sweat-soaked shirt, causing a small squeak and “Yah! Minho-ah!” to escape the boy’s mouth as he was pulled into an empty supply closet, his face a canvas of confusion.
Shoving the older boy into the wall at the back of the closet, Minho leaned into him, drawing him into a rough, needy kiss; lips crashing firmly, teeth pressing against them, nearly clacking. He ran his hands down Onew’s sides, rubbing and squeezing, then gripped the older boy’s hips, pulling the singer to him. Catching on quickly, Jinki’s legs parted, just a little, as Minho’s knee slipped between them, and the rapper began tugging at his leader’s pants.
The two boys kissed and nipped at one another in heated frenzy; Minho grazing his lips and teeth along the older boy’s jaw for a moment or two, then allowing Jinki to nibble at his ear, to drag his tongue along the side of his face, down the slope of his neck, only to go back, and meet once more at the middle; lips, teeth, tongues, and saliva, all combining in an array of hot, wet sensation; breathing the same, recycled puffs of air as their eyes met in lust-clouded stares.
Onew’s hands worked their way up under the younger boy’s shirt, massaging the firm muscles of Minho’s abdomen as the rapper’s own hands made their way down to the leader’s backside, kneading into the toned flesh through the older boy’s boxers. The singer tugged at Minho’s shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift movement, before returning his hands to their exploration. He rubbed a soft thumb over one the rapper’s nipples, pressing upon it, pinching it, dragging a fingernail over it, before leaning forward to lick it; mouth latching on, bringing it to attention, before moving on to its double.
The rapper quickly sucked on a couple of fingers, working them with his tongue until they were slippery with spit. Sliding his hand into the older boy’s boxers, he dragged his slick fingers along Jinki’s hot entrance. Pressing at it, his finger slid inside with only slightly less resistance than that morning, making the older boy whimper. Minho smirked; the older boy had tightened up again. He pushed the finger in, scraping along the heated, still-resistant walls, searching for that bundle of nerves. Onew sucked in a breath, squirming up against the younger boy. Found it, Minho thought, grinning as he pushed a second finger inside the older boy’s tight heat. Onew released soft mewls as the rapper’s fingers began to tease his prostate. The two fingers worked in harmony, twisting together then pulling apart, brushing against Jinki’s sweet spot, pulling away, then pressing close once more, as the singer writhed in Minho’s unyielding hold, curling up against him and panting hot, steamy breaths and soft moans against the rapper’s smooth chest.
With his other hand, Minho reached into the front of the singer’s boxers, taking hold of the older boy’s thick manhood, massaging it in time with his strokes of the boy’s prostate. Jinki’s breath hitched, a small whine fleeing his throat, and his hands, now latched firmly onto the younger boy’s shoulders, curled up; finger nails digging in, leaving little, pink half-moons all along the rapper’s flesh, as he shook and groaned with release. The younger boy continued stroking until the trembles subsided, feeling a slimy wetness spreading into his hand. Sliding his own pants and boxers down, the rapper used the older boy’s essence to make his own cock as slick as his saliva had rendered his fingers. Hitching the leader further up along the wall, Minho adjusted Jinki’s legs around his waist, lining himself up along the older boy’s stretched entrance. Onew leaned forward, kissing the younger boy softly, granting his silent permission, then rest his head upon Minho’s shoulder, nuzzling the younger boy’s neck as he slowly plunged in.
With a sharp intake of breath and a choked cry, the singer’s fingers curled up for a second time, his eyes closing tight as his whole body went rigid. “It hurts,” he whispered, a small tear sliding down his face, pooling against the younger boy’s chest as he thought, I didn’t think it would hurt like this. The rapper paused in his movements, his hands massaging at his leader’s thighs, urging the boy to relax. Jinki breathed in and out slow, shuddering breaths against the younger boy’s chest until his body became pliant once more. “Are you okay?” Minho asked, his voice low and breathy. He had little experience; didn’t really know what he was doing, or if he was doing it right. He tried to keep still inside the singer, despite his cock pulsing against the heat, eager to move, to brush against his hyung’s insides, to create that blissful friction he knew they should both be feeling, and not this strange, unheard of pain making the leader cry. The older boy nodded slowly, his hair tickling against the rapper’s skin. “Okay,” he said, “go.” Taking that cue, Minho began to move again, pushing the rest of the way in, aiming for the spot that would set his leader off again.
The singer’s back arched as Minho brushed against it, before pulling out, only a touch faster than he had pushed in. It started out awkward and untimed. Minho would thrust in with a moan, brushing against the older boy’s prostate, and Onew would let out a muffled yelp; the sting and soreness of having something foreign inside of him merging with the gratifying strokes of the younger boy’s cock along his inner walls, against that little bundle of nerves, until neither boy could tell the difference. Slowly, with each prod, each sigh, each exchange of saliva during mid-thrust kisses, they reached a cadence. In a lingering rhythm, the younger boy thrust in and out, tapping his hyung’s secret spot each time, making the older boy writhe wantonly against him, both boy’s panting and moaning, crying out at the heat; the impossible, wonderful searing of flesh within flesh.
“Harder,” Jinki would sigh, “faster,” until, with a final groan, Onew shook in release once more, spilling scorching fluids between the two boys. Minho came close behind, his own hot, sticky seed coating the older boy’s insides, leaking a little at the edges to spread between Jinki’s thighs alongside a small splatter of blood; the sign of the older boy’s ravished state. As his breathing returned to normal, Minho leaned down to spread kiss after hot, wet kiss along Jinki’s shoulder and neck, until the older boy lifted his head, eyes a little teary, but offering the rapper a wobbly smile, and kissed him on the lips, soft and gentle; chaste.
Down the hall, they could hear the loud chatter of their friends. Key’s voice could be picked out above the others, complaining, “Where have they gone off to? When I get ahold of them…” The rest of his threats were drowned out by the laughter of Taemin and Jonghyun.
“We should wait ‘til they pass by,” Minho whispered. Onew nodded against his chest, before pulling away to redress. As the hallway grew quiet once more, the two snuck away from their secret hiding place, sweaty and smiling and swapping secret, tender gazes.