[fic; shinee]
Title: These Boots (Are Made For Walking)
Rating: R
Fandom: SHINee
Pairing: Onew/Minho
Wordcount: 8,426
Summary: Six months down the line and Jinki is as happy as he's ever been, but possibly more embarrassing than he's ever been. (A not-quite-sequel to Walk All Over You).
Notes: I started working on this not-sequel quite a long time ago, and only recently finished it. This was inspired by some comments to the first fic (omg thank you guys, I love you so much, you've been so kind to me with my first foray into this fandom ;; ♥) and a few other post-credit scenes, almost, that I wanted to write for this universe, and for this onho. As such it's not technically a fic, or a sequel, because they're just random scenes I wanted to write for them! So please bear this in mind, and be kind, I'm still learning ;~;
This is dedicated to everyone who read WAOY, and especially to Bianca, because ilh and she always encourages me and I finished this mostly for her, you cheeky brat ;~; ♥
Jinki could never do that.
Or, could he?'>
“Whatever it is you're smiling about, I don't want to know about it, okay,” Kibum said, throwing Jinki a look.
Jinki, who had been laying sprawled across the couch, his book set neatly aside as he texted on his phone, looked up at this, deeply confused. “What. What are you talking about? Nothing's going on.”
Kibum gave him a look. “I don't care, I don't want to know.”
“Well I wasn't going to tell you, anyway,” Jinki replied, trying to ignore the fact his comeback sounded just a little childish. He returned his attention to his phone, ignoring whatever look Kibum was probably giving him now; Minho was sending Jinki pictures of himself pulling funny faces, and it was both kind of strange and incredibly adorable.
Quite often during the six months since they'd gotten together, Jinki felt the desire to pinch himself to make sure it was all actually real. He wouldn't be surprised if he woke up one morning and found that all of this was just a long and wonderful dream, it was the kind of torture his stupid brain would do to him, he was sure. It was just, sometimes it was hard to believe that Jinki had found Minho, that Minho actually liked him in return, and that they'd had a really good six months together so far.
But it was all true, and it was all going well, and Minho really did like him in return, there was no doubt about that; he was so open with his feelings, his personality, and his thoughts about Jinki. The twenty or more text messages he'd already received during the course of that day were a good testament to how often Minho thought of him.
It was quiet, so Jinki was surprised when Kibum spoke up after some time, and he made the most inelegant noise possible and dropped his phone - rather painfully too - onto his forehead.
“You know I'm happy for you, right?”
It was an unusually serious moment for Kibum, rare openness from him. Jinki stared, trying to ignore the aching pain in his head. “Of course. Not that you say so very often, because you don't,” Jinki continued, pushing himself up until he was sitting. “But I know you are.”
Kibum nodded, a small smile on his face. “Okay, good. 'Cause I'll probably never say it again, either.”
Jinki laughed and, setting his phone aside, stood up and went quickly over to where Kibum stood and pulled him into a wordless hug. They'd been friends for such a long time, and knew each other so well, that Jinki didn't usually need words from Kibum to know that he really meant well.
“Oh, please, we weren't having a moment, you don't have to do this,” Kibum protested, and Jinki could hear the eye roll in his voice.
Jinki only tightened his hold around Kibum, and smiled warmly into his shoulder, until eventually Kibum gave in and hugged him in return.
“Don't fuck this up, okay?” Kibum said, somewhere near Jinki's neck.
Jinki nodded. “I'll try not to, but you know me,” he joked.
Kibum hummed in agreement. “Well try your best, all the same. You were pathetic before Minho found you, and your pathetic face is so much harder to stomach than your stupidly happy face.”
“Thank you, Kibum,” Jinki said, stepping back, a small smile on his face, “for your endless support. You're so good to me.”
Kibum huffed, but Jinki still received a smile in return, eventually.
**
“You won't throw them away, will you?” Jinki was leaning up against Minho, comfortably pressed up against his chest, Minho's arms wrapped warmly around him.
The television was on but mostly to provide some pleasant background noise and the occasional topic of conversation - that, and Jinki was secretly intrigued by reality shows, Hoarders was a fascinating and terrifying look into the human psyche and how it attempted to cope with terrible, tragic incidents.
“Hm? What are you talking about?” Minho's fingers shuffled loosely through Jinki's hair.
“You know, when you eventually quit,” Jinki replied. Minho shifted, and suddenly Jinki found himself looking into that intense, soulful stare that made his heart pound and his knees wobble. “Um...” Jinki said.
“Oh, you mean my costumes?” A small smile tugged at Minho's lips. “I have been considering it. What use will I have for them, after all?”
Jinki heard the lilt in Minho's voice. He was used to this now though, and he thought he was getting better at it, too. “Well, I can think of many uses for them still.”
Minho raised an eyebrow and waited for Jinki to go on.
He could feel Minho's fingers stroking slowly along the nape of his neck, and tried not to shiver.
“Well, Halloween, for a start,” Jinki continued, smiling up at Minho. “And what if you get invited to any fancy dress parties?”
Minho hummed in thought, making a great play of deep contemplation before his gaze fell on Jinki again, and he didn't quite bother to hide his playful little smile. “No, I really don't think those are compelling reasons.”
Jinki tapped his chin thoughtfully. He tried to bite back a startled little gasp a moment later, when Minho's hand slipped underneath his shirt, his fingers cool against Jinki's warm skin.
“W-well, I can think of a few more,” Jinki managed, stumbling briefly over his words as Minho slowly pushed him down into the couch.
As Minho pressed against him, one leg between Jinki's, his hand sliding higher up Jinki's body until - Jinki groaned, low in his throat, and decided he was done trying to play along and was ready to go with this idea of Minho's. He wrapped his arms around Minho's impossibly tall, impossibly attractive body, and hummed happily as their lips met.
**
Jinki spent more time at Minho's place than at his own these days. It was comfortable, and he was at ease there. One of the happiest days during their relationship so far had been, when a couple of months ago, Minho had given Jinki a key to his place. He'd handed it over casually with a simple “just in case you need it,” but Jinki had seen that this was just bravado and underneath he'd known that Minho was feeling shy in that moment, too. It had been sweet, really, to see Minho like that.
He had taken the key from Minho, trying to hide the true extent of his excitement, because Jinki had thought it might be a bit embarrassing if he'd just started dancing around with joy. And there it had sat on his key chain, happily next to his own key, but Jinki had been too nervous to use it for quite awhile. He had a spotty track record, especially within the recent past, and he hadn't been sure on the protocol or how to go about using this newly given gift of access. He'd felt awkward if he'd just let himself into Minho's place, even when it was planned, and even when Jinki had texted him ten minutes prior to let him know he was on his way. Part of him just really didn't want to do anything wrong and mess up the best thing that had ever happened to him; he really, really liked having Minho in his life.
Minho had soon stopped answering the door, forcing Jinki to start using his key and by now it had become as easy as letting himself into his own place. Easier, probably, because he knew Minho was on the other side, and not Kibum, ready to make fun of him.
It was early in the evening and Jinki was sitting comfortably spread across Minho's couch, a book in hand and music whispering softly in his ears, as he waited for Minho to get back from class. It was just natural for him now, to gravitate towards Minho's place when Jinki wasn't at work or otherwise busy. Minho had even cleared out a shelf in his bookcase, just for Jinki.
Checking the time on his phone, Jinki noticed a message from Minho: Hey, cupcake, running late today, should be back in about an hour. There's some food in the fridge to keep you happy! ｡◕‿◕｡
Jinki sent back a quick message to let him know he understood and that he was going to eat everything in Minho's apartment, including the couch, while he waited. He was used to Minho's jokingly ridiculous terms of endearment by then as well.
Another hour to wait, Jinki thought, as he set his phone aside. He'd been pretty content with reading his book, but now that he knew how long a wait he had until Minho got home he found himself quickly growing bored. Pushing himself up from the couch he started to wonder around the apartment. Already, there were little signs of Jinki's existence, of his time spent here. His bookshelf was a good start, but Minho had also had a photo they'd taken together framed and up on a shelf, and at least one of Jinki on his own as well. There was a cushion that Jinki had pointed out as liking, taking pride of place on Minho's couch, even though it didn't match the rest of the cushions, and there was always some food he liked in the kitchen. It made Jinki's heart swell to see how easily Minho included him in his life, pulled him into it and tried to make it comfortable for him there.
But Minho wasn't here right now, and Jinki looked at all of these sweet signs of his existence with an affectionate smile as he wondered through the apartment. He found himself in the bedroom, a room he no longer felt uncomfortable being in. Even here Minho had included little pieces of Jinki. He had a drawer of his own and not many clothes filled it up yet, but it was there, and it was his.
Jinki found himself in front of Minho's wardrobe, where all his work costumes hung neatly. He pulled the wardrobe open, feeling compelled. Jinki had actually seen Minho in all of them by then and he could remember clearly every occasion, every night, that he'd seen any of them on Minho for the first time. They had all turned out to be amazing nights. Minho looked great in all of them, and Jinki didn't know how someone could look so good and have such an air of confidence, of knowing how good they looked when they were dressed up as a cowboy and dancing around.
Jinki could never do that.
Or, could he?
The thought struck him, and he wondered. He wondered what it was like and if the costumes themselves lent strength to the sexy self confidence that Minho seemed to ooze. There was some time yet, after all, until Minho returned, and Jinki would only be quick. Just the one. It wouldn't hurt, and even if it was the most embarrassing experience of his life, no one would ever know. He could bury any shame and take it to the grave with him.
Quickly, before he could think about it too much, Jinki pulled out the officer's costume, still his favourite one to see on Minho. If anything had the power to make him feel sexy, it would be this one.
It didn't take long and soon Jinki had everything but the boots on. The shirt was too wide in the shoulders and the trousers were far too long in the leg, but they were incredibly tight. Jinki almost wanted to blush when he glanced in the mirror and saw how little they left to the imagination. But they were, he thought, kind of sexy, even if they were on himself and not Minho and his perfect body.
Jinki turned to face the mirror properly and tried to pose as he'd seen Minho do in the past, attempting to emulate his easy, relaxed self confidence. The clothes definitely helped a little, Jinki decided, as he continued to try and pose sexily, but he still felt a little bit ridiculous. Was there such a thing as sexy but ridiculous, he wondered, because if there was maybe Jinki could fit himself into that category; he might not mind that too much.
He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't hear anything until it was too late. Minho's voice rang through the apartment, calling Jinki's name, letting him know he was back and going on about having been able to finish up earlier than expected. Jinki felt his heart drop, and he looked down briefly, expecting to see it sitting there on the floor at his feet. He felt sick, and he looked around, panicked, trying to figure out what to do, where to hide. He had to take these clothes off! It would be much better, and much easier to explain, at least, if he was naked in Minho's room, and not in his work clothes.
But there was no time, Minho's steps were already at the door and Jinki could see him standing there in the doorway, reflected in the mirror. He froze, for a moment, wondering what he could possibly do, say, to not make it seem like he'd lost his mind. They'd been in a nice, steady relationship for awhile now, it was true, but Jinki was certain they hadn't yet passed that point where being weird could just end it all.
Summoning up a great reserve of bravery, Jinki pasted a little smile onto his face and turned around. The look on Minho's face seemed to be a mixture of amusement, confusion, and something else Jinki couldn't quite work out. The struggle not to burst out laughing, maybe?
“Oh, hello!” Jinki said, brightly, trying his hardest to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary. “Um, you might be wondering about this, I guess, but I was just making sure I hadn't missed a calling of mine.”
This had Minho raise his eyebrows as he stepped further into the room. He seemed to look Jinki over, and this made him want to blush; he tried not to. “A calling?”
“Oh yeah, you know,” Jinki waved a hand, and nearly smacked himself in the face in the process. “I wanted to make sure that stripping wasn't my destiny, or something. You know, a hidden talent. I didn't want to be really good at it, but never know because I hadn't tried it? So I was just finding out, if I'd missed my calling in life.”
Minho seemed to struggle then not to laugh. Jinki was sure he wanted to. “You were finding out if it was your destiny to be a stripper?”
Well, Jinki had no choice but to go along with this now, as it was the only excuse he could come up with that was remotely feasible; he didn't think that Minho would be convinced that armed robbers had broken in and threatened Jinki, at gun point, to put on Minho's work clothes.
“Yes,” Jinki nodded, trying to emanate honesty and confidence in this story. “Yes, I was.”
It seemed that Minho couldn't quite keep it in any more, and the laughter started to bubble forth. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, but it didn't do much to muffle the sounds of mirth coming from him. Minho was laughing really, really hard.
“Oh, Jinki,” Minho managed, between his breathless laughter. “Oh, don't quit your day job, okay?”
Jinki knew he must have looked ridiculous, standing there in a shirt too big for him, trousers too long for him, and just moments ago trying to pose sexily in front of the mirror and he knew it must be funny to witness, but part of that stung. Jinki wished it didn't, because it was a stupid thing to be hurt by when it was true.
He quickly pasted a smile onto his face and tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, I learnt that I don't have the hidden talent to be a stripper.” He plucked at the overly large shirt, rolling the fabric between his fingers, trying not to look at Minho.
Abruptly, Minho stopped laughing, and for a moment he looked stricken. He stepped forward and took Jinki's hand between his own. “Oh, no. No, I didn't mean it to sound like that,” he said quickly, looking earnestly into Jinki's face. “I'm sorry. Jinki, I don't mean that you're not sexy, because you are. I just meant, you don't seem cut out for the dancing on stage part? You blush sometimes when I look at you, could you imagine a roomful of people doing it?”
Jinki, looking away, mumbled defensively, “I only blush sometimes because your stare is really intense, okay. You've never been on the receiving end of it.” And it was perfectly true, sometimes when Minho looked at him, Jinki could feel his heart quiver and his knees wobble, and it was as if Minho was looking into his very soul.
“Jinki,” Minho said, and the sound of his voice pulled Jinki's gaze back to Minho's face. There was sincerity there, with his apology. “I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it to sound like it did.”
“Oh, it's fine,” Jinki said, feeling a little bit uncomfortable now. He really, really wanted to change out of Minho's clothes and get back into his own and forget this ever happened. And then he wanted to die, because clearly he was too embarrassing to live. “I mean, I get it. This is pretty ridiculous, after all.”
Minho shook his head. “You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?” He said, voice low. “How sexy you can be.”
Jinki, eyes wide, shook his head, disbelieving. “What, me? No, no way. I mean, look at me right now.” He gestured helplessly, at himself, though Jinki had no idea how he looked to anyone who wasn't himself. Although the shirt was too big for him the top few buttons were undone in his mad attempt to get the clothes off, and the trousers were too long for him, bunching up on top of his bare feet and loose around his hips, but they were tight and almost flush against his skin. He had no idea how he looked, in that moment; to Minho, Jinki was a mixture of adorable, ridiculous, and sexy enough that he wanted to take him right then and there and prove it to him.
He wasn't privy to any of these thoughts running through Minho's head, but Jinki could see the way Minho's eyes were travelling over his body, and it was starting to bring a redness to his cheeks, as if Minho was sizing him up, or getting ready to eat him.
“Don't be silly,” Jinki managed, feeling a little flustered all of a sudden.
“Do you remember that time, in the bathroom?” Minho began, and it seemed to him an effort to pull his gaze away from those trousers and back to Jinki's face.
“That's very specific, but no, I don't,” Jinki answered, feeling confused from this sudden change of topic. What was Minho getting at?
Taking a step closer, Minho continued to speak. “When we went to that bar, the themed one Kibum dragged us out to. And you were so ready for it, halfway through the night, that you took my hand and dragged me into the bathroom.”
Jinki made a silent oh with his mouth as the memory started to trickle back into his mind. Yes, of course, there was no way he was going to forget that night, when he'd felt unusually uninhibited and brave, and had wanted, needed, to feel Minho's cock in his mouth.
Minho's fingers were toying with the edge of Jinki's shirt and it seemed to him that Minho had taken a step closer, as well. “You sucked me off, right there in a bathroom stall, and I've never known anything to feel so good before.”
Jinki definitely remembered that, and he felt his face heat up with the memory. He wasn't chaste and he wasn't a prude, and six months down the line was long enough for them to have definitely gotten up to a lot of fun things together, but Jinki was not usually so blatant about such things; that night had been quite a change for him.
“It was really, really sexy.” Minho's voice was soft and low, and it sent a shiver down Jinki's spine.
He didn't know what to say, what to do. He could feel Minho's stare on him, could feel Minho's words a warm breath away. And, Jinki slowly realised, he could feel Minho's fingers slowly, steadily, undoing the remaining buttons on the policeman's shirt he was wearing. Biting on his lower lip, Jinki managed to say, “W-well, I tried.”
Minho's fingers skittered across Jinki's now bare skin, and he shivered at the touch. “You don't have to try,” Minho murmured. His breath was warm and a moment later Jinki could feel kisses being pressed across his collarbone; a warmth began to spread through him. “You're sexy when you don't try,” Minho murmured, words hot against Jinki's skin, his tongue following the line of Jinki's neck. “When you don't realise what it is you're doing. When you stop trying to over-analyse it, or put yourself down.” There were fingers at Jinki's hips, dipping below the waist of his trousers, pressing against his skin.
He wound his arms around Minho, trying to draw him closer, feeling a need for him begin to well up inside of himself. “O-okay,” Jinki murmured, voice catching, as he really didn't know what else to say. Words were becoming difficult.
“And,” Minho added, his voice soft against Jinki's ear, before his teeth took hold of his earlobe and nibbled playfully, pulling an involuntary noise from Jinki's throat. “I do think you're quite sexy when you wear my clothes.”
Jinki felt himself just melt against Minho then, when their mouths finally met. His fingers clutched at the back of Minho's shirt, as Jinki nipped lightly, teasingly, at Minho's lower lip. It earned him a grunt, and Minho deepened the kiss. Jinki felt his head begin to spin, and wondered if he was going to drown in this moment. He didn't think he'd mind.
His hands tugged at Minho's shirt then, and slid up, underneath, to press against hot skin. His hand followed the curve of Minho's back, and then his fingers dipped into the creases of Minho's toned chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath his hot, hot skin. Jinki could feel Minho shiver under his touch as one of his fingers skittered across a nipple, teasing until it pebbled under his touch.
Minho slipped a leg between Jinki's, pressing them closer together, and one of his hands wound its way into Jinki's hair as they continued to share hot, heady kisses. They were pressed so close together, Jinki was sure Minho could feel Jinki's erection against his leg.
“What's that in your pocket?” Minho whispered between kisses, his words fanning softly against Jinki's cheek. “Or are you happy to see me?”
It was so stupid, and so bad, at such a ridiculous moment, but Jinki couldn't help laughing, low and breathy, at Minho's terrible joke. “I've got an apple in my pocket,” he whispered back, a smile on his face as he kissed his way across Minho's jawline.
“Hmm, shame.” As if to prove Jinki wrong, Minho's hand reached between them and rubbed against Jinki's crotch, eliciting a low moan from him. “I think you're lying.”
“Just bending the truth, a little,” Jinki replied. His hands were splayed against Minho's shoulders, revelling in all the strength he could feel there, beneath his skin.
Minho pulled his hand away and Jinki groaned a little at the loss of this pleasant sensation. He didn't have long to miss it though, because Minho was pushing the rest of the shirt down and off of Jinki's shoulders, letting it drop carelessly to the floor, before slowly walking Jinki back towards the bed. It hit the backs of Jinki's knees before he expected it, and he stumbled and fell back against the bed, a breathless laugh falling from him in his surprise.
Smiling, Minho crawled onto the bed beside him, and quickly claimed Jinki's mouth again. As they kissed, almost desperately, Jinki wound an arm around Minho to draw their bodies closer, feeling the need for them to be as near each other as possible. His other hand slipped between them until he found the front of Minho's trousers. Smiling almost cheekily against Minho's mouth, Jinki began to rub at the bulge in Minho's trousers.
This had Minho groan, low, the sound deep in his throat, against Jinki's lips. A thrill went through Jinki at the sound; he loved hearing Minho like this, noises made just for him, noises made because of him. Jinki pressed harder, and he could feel Minho tighten the grip on his hip, where his hands had wandered.
The small smile was still on Jinki's face as Minho broke the kiss, lowering his face to spread kisses across Jinki's neck instead. Jinki's skin felt warm and tingled pleasantly wherever Minho's lips pressed, but it wasn't quite enough to distract him from the task at hand. He had Minho's trousers unbuttoned and was pushing them down off his hips to give himself better access. And then Jinki's hand found what it was looking for, and pressed against the bulge in Minho's boxers, rubbing slowly. He could feel hot, heavy breaths against his skin.
Slowly, teasingly, his fingers dipped beneath the waistband, and Jinki knew he was starting to get to Minho when he felt teeth press just under his jawline. When his fingers met hot skin and moved across, with just the lightest of touches, Jinki could feel the shudder move through Minho's body, and he revelled in the feeling it gave him.
“Oh, god,” Minho grunted, his voice impossibly low now, and that did something to Jinki, unwinding some chord within him. After a few more teasing touches he took Minho firmly in hand and began to stroke him. Minho was hot under his palm, his breath coming heavier now, and when he ground out Jinki's name, the sounds coming out in a breathy shudder, Jinki could feel it add to the strain in his own boxers.
As Jinki stroked deliberately, holding firm, just how Minho liked it, Minho's hands wandered over his body, fingers touching, stroking and eventually almost clinging, as Jinki sped up his motions. His hips bucked against Jinki's hand, and Jinki swallowed thickly, unable to tear his focus away from Minho's face. He looked incredible like this, eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure, lips parted to allow even the smallest of sounds to pass, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths. Jinki was amazed, every time.
“Minho,” he murmured as he watched, and Minho's eyes focused on Jinki, meeting his gaze with that look that made Jinki's knees quake. Oh, God, Jinki thought. He really, really needed to be touched. Hands, a mouth, more, something.
With a groan, Minho reached down and pulled Jinki's hand away. Jinki opened his mouth to protest - he'd been enjoying himself, enjoying watching Minho, but Minho leaned forward and kissed him hungrily, a deep and searching kiss that stole Jinki's breath away. He felt Minho's hand palming him through his trousers (the trousers he still stupidly had on) and Jinki let out a long, shaky breath against Minho's lips.
There was friction and it was beginning to drive Jinki crazy; his fingers scrabbled at the jeans, pushing Minho's hand away just long enough so he could get the damn things undone. Minho's mouth had moved to Jinki's neck in the meantime, spreading hot, wet kisses from jaw to collarbone, making Jinki's skin flush pleasantly beneath every press of Minho's lips. Hands were wandering across his body, distracting Jinki from the job at hand: getting the tightest pair of jeans he'd ever worn, off.
He'd forgotten that they weren't his jeans, that they were pretty much skin tight, and pushing them off wasn't as easy as he'd anticipated. He grunted, frustrated, at his inability to get them very far down his legs. And his frustration was beginning to lead to embarrassment because this, right now, struggling to get his trousers off, this was not sexy or fuckable.
As Jinki struggled, he could feel Minho's lips curve against his skin, where he was kissing behind Jinki's earlobe, and feel soft breath fluttering across his skin.
“Are you...are you laughing?” Jinki asked, incredulous, his struggle momentarily on hold as he tried to lean back and look into Minho's face. Jinki was right, and at any other time, being able to feel Minho's amusement like he just had would have warmed him inside, but right now it just furthered his embarrassment. Could he ever get anything right? “You are,” he accused, sounding almost hurt.
Minho, shaking his head, leant forward and pulled Jinki into his arms, his face nuzzling into the curve of Jinki's neck comfortingly. He could still hear the smile in Minho's voice when he spoke. “Not at you, not really. Just,” Minho pulled back a little and looked down into Jinki's face. “You've forgotten what these trousers are used for.”
“Used for?” Jinki questioned, feeling a little put off by Minho's sudden vagueness. Things had been getting very steamy, and now Jinki had ruined it by being inept and Minho was furthering it by giving him riddles. “You use them to look good in. And dance in. I don't see what you're getting at.”
Minho's smile widened further, and Jinki could feel himself getting properly annoyed. Without a word, keeping his eyes trained on Jinki's face, Minho reached down. His hands slid first, teasingly, over Jinki's crotch, making his body react inspite of his annoyance, and then Minho's fingers trailed slowly across Jinki's thighs. Jinki had no idea what Minho actually did, he could just feel the warm pressure of a hand against the side of his thigh, but a moment later there was a small sound and one side of the trousers had come undone, soon followed by Minho's hand and the other side.
The smile on Minho's face was almost smug in its wideness now, as he looked down at Jinki. “I also strip in them,” he said, voice low, just the way Minho probably knew could make Jinki's insides quiver, “and they have to be easy enough to take off.”
“Oh.” Jinki blinked, feeling stupider than ever now. He was only ever stupid with Minho, he swore, and only when Minho was doing things that made it almost impossible to think straight.
“Yeah, oh,” Minho said, laughing as he teased a little. But his hands were now roaming over Jinki's bared thighs, caressing the warm skin, making Jinki shiver under the press of Minho's fingertips, and the look in his eyes had become so heated that Jinki suddenly found himself not minding so much. “Now, where were we?” Minho murmured, bringing himself down to steal another kiss from Jinki, deep and hot and enough to get Jinki to that point of sexual frustration he'd been at not long ago. That, and Minho's hand had slipped beneath the waistband of Jinki's boxers and was now slowly stroking heated skin.
Jinki groaned, shuddering with pleasure, and arched up against Minho's hand. “Right here,” he murmured, finding words difficult now. “We were right...right here.” And, oh yes, right there, Jinki thought to himself, sinking into the mattress with pleasure.
**
“Jiiiiiinki,” Minho called, pulling the sound out in a familiar whine that Jinki understood instantly.
He didn't turn from what he was doing, busy frying meat over the cooker, and called out, “Whatever it is: No.”
He heard the sound of feet coming towards the kitchen and another whining call of his name, this time closer. “Just listen for a moment?”
Jinki still didn't turn around, but he could just picture the wide-eyed imploring look Minho must have on his face, it made him smile to himself. And again he said, “Nope. I don't want to.” He was teasing, but Minho couldn't see the smile on his face.
A moment later and Jinki felt arms sliding around his waist from behind. He jumped and let out a soft gasp in surprise, letting go of the frying pan quickly before he could do any terrible damage. Minho's lips were close to his ear, and he lowered his voice as he spoke, “Please, Jinki.”
Jinki narrowed his eyes; it was a dirty trick, because Minho knew what that tone did to him, how the sound of his voice so close to his ear could send shivers the length of Jinki's body. “You wouldn't be whining at me if you knew it wasn't something I probably won't want to do,” Jinki said, trying very, very hard not to shiver in Minho's hold. “So I'm saying no already.” But still, he couldn't quite keep the teasing smile from his face.
Minho turned Jinki in his arms so they could face each other, and his eyes widened when he finally caught sight of the look on Jinki's face. “You've just been teasing me this whole time!” He accused, pulling a face. It was really adorable, Jinki thought.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted, smile widening. One of the many things Jinki was discovering in these months together was that Minho was terribly fun to tease.
Minho's look of faux hurt was still on his face. “So, now that that's out of the way, will you please listen to me?”
“Just a moment,” Jinki said, and turned around again. A smile tugged at his face, imagining Minho's expression just then, but he had done it with purpose, he didn't want to ruin the meat. As Jinki finished cooking it, he could hear Minho huffing behind him. “You can huff all you like,” Jinki said, “but you don't want me to ruin dinner, do you?”
When Minho next spoke the words were tucked away against Jinki's neck, soft and breathy and surprised. “You're cooking dinner for me?”
“For us,” Jinki corrected, trying not to let it show, the way Minho's breath against his neck made him feel. “I'm eating this too, you know. It's not a completely selfless endeavour.” He could feel Minho's laugh against his skin; shivers ran down the length of Jinki's body. Carefully, he set the hot pan aside, turned the cooker off, and finally turned to face Minho again, because despite all his acting just then he was dying to see Minho and feel him under his hands.
When he turned, Minho's arms looped easily around Jinki's waist once again and Jinki's hands came up to rest across Minho's shoulders; they were comfortably slotted together.
“Now, what were you going to ask me?” Jinki asked pleasantly, unable to quite hide the smile from his face, a smile for no reason other than he was here, with Minho, and they were happy.
Minho, his face still tucked into the crook of Jinki's neck, mumbled in a not-quite answer, “I don't want you to say no.”
“Now, how can I promise that when I don't know what you're going to ask?” Unable to help himself, Jinki reached down with one hand and let his fingers travel slowly, lazily, through Minho's dark hair. One of his favourite parts of relationships, he had decided, was reaching that point where you were comfortable; comfortable being around the other person, comfortable touching them and them touching you, being together. He felt like they'd reached that point, and it was good.
Eventually, Minho pulled back enough so he could look into Jinki's face. He seemed to be psyching himself up for this, as if he were going to ask Jinki to do something he'd probably not want to do. “Well, you know, next Thursday is my last day, and I wanted you to, well, to come to it.”
Jinki frowned, puzzled. “Your last day? Where?” His mind scanned his memories, looking for the one that would suddenly unlock the understanding for this conversation, and when Jinki found it a moment later his mouth opened in surprise. “Oh. Oh! Your last night at the club.”
Minho nodded, and he seemed to be watching Jinki's face quite closely. He seemed to have no idea just how that look affected people, Jinki was sure, because it was serious and earnest and searching, and sometimes it was too much to look back at.
“And you want me to come watch?” Jinki continued, avoiding Minho's intense gaze. He remembered the first time he'd been there, how much of an embarrassing experience it had been for him. A mortifying mistake, really. And he'd been so unprepared.
“Yeah,” Minho said, nodding. “I don't know. It might sound stupid,” and here, Minho began to look a little unsure of himself, as if he didn't have a good reason for asking, “but I'd really like for you to be there, for the last time.”
Jinki considered it. It would still be embarrassing, he knew, because not many, if any, men were likely to show up to a Ladies Night, and he still felt awkward just at the idea of sitting there and watching Minho and other men dance around on stage sexily to music. It might, he thought, be even more difficult now that they had, um, explored, the many benefits of all of Minho's various costumes for work, and that Jinki had rather vivid memories attached to each and every outfit. Still, it wouldn't be an embarrassing mistake this time, he'd walk into it knowing what he was getting into. And Minho wanted him there.
In the end, Jinki wasn't going to say no because Minho was asking him, and he had learnt that it was very, very difficult to say no to Minho, especially when the question shone so earnestly in his face.
“Of course,” Jinki said eventually. “If you want me there, I'll be there.”
The smile that broke out across Minho's face would almost be worth it, Jinki thought. And if it wasn't, he could get Minho to make it up to him afterwards.
**
It was Thursday, and Minho's last night at the club. As promised Jinki was there, and somehow he had managed to get Kibum to come along with him. He wasn't sure how he had managed it without bribery, threats, or being the biggest nuisance Jinki knew how to be; Kibum had agreed and surprisingly easily, for him.
So there they were, seated a little ways from the stage and the main seating area, safely at the bar. The show wasn't due to start for another ten or so minutes yet, so there they were, sipping at their drinks, and Jinki left wondering why exactly Kibum had agreed to come with him.
“What's in this for you, anyway?” Jinki asked, looking across at his friend, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“This is my last opportunity to see you squirm in public as you watch your boyfriend strip in a roomful of women,” Kibum said, turning to give Jinki a grin, “what isn't in this for me?”
Jinki huffed.
“Anyway,” Kibum added, “you owe me.”
“What?” Jinki's eyes widened. “No, no way, you agreed to come without any strings or any favours, don't pull that on me.”
Kibum rolled his eyes. “No, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't be dating a tall, sexy stripper in the first place.”
Appalled, Jinki waved a hand at Kibum trying to hush him, even though the murmur of voices around them was loud enough and Jinki didn't think anyone was listening to them anyway. “Keep it down! And that's not true.”
“Yes, it is. If my scarf hadn't been stolen you never would have run into Minho in the first place.”
The lights began to dim then and the babble of voices quietened around them. As the beat of the music began to pulse throughout the room, Jinki leaned in close to whisper, “I'd have met Minho anyway. Jonghyun brought him out that one night with us, remember?”
Kibum frowned and rolled his eyes again, unwilling to admit defeat, and then the dancing began and talking was a very unnecessary thing.
Minho was on first and he spun onto the stage, body moving to the dirty, deep beat of the music. He was in his cop outfit, and Jinki could feel himself growing hot and uncomfortable. Why had he agreed to come tonight? Why? It was even worse now, he thought, than that first night, because this time he was watching Minho thrust his body, sway his hips, spin and grind and slowly pull his clothes off, and Jinki knew what it was like to have those hips grind against him, to feel the hardness of Minho's body pressed against his own, naked and needy.
Jinki swallowed thickly, because this wasn't helping him get through this, not at all. Oh god, why was he so stupid, why was he doing this.
Because Minho had asked him, a part of him reminded himself. Because when he wasn't being sexy and seductive, he was sweet, and romantic, and a little bit cheesy, and he would have done anything Jinki had asked, would have gone to anything that Jinki might have done.
With a different kind of warmth filling Jinki now, he leaned in a little towards Kibum, a realisation having dawned on him in that moment. “I want to move in with Minho,” he whispered softly.
Kibum turned just enough to give him a weird look, before returning his attention back to the stage; other men had come out to join Minho on stage now. “Strange time to tell me this, but okay.”
Strange or not, it was in that moment, as he watched Minho be sexy on stage and thought about all the things Minho had done, and would do for him, Jinki knew that he was ready to move on to the next stage of their relationship.
But after this night had ended, because his thoughts soon began to wonder back to knowing what it was like to be between those long, perfect legs, and Jinki had a difficult time trying not to let those memories manifest in an embarrassingly physical way.
**
“Alright, that's the last box,” Jonghyun huffed, looking a little put out as he dropped it onto the living room floor, next to the small pile of all of Jinki's other possessions. “You need to invest in one of those ebook things, cause I'm never helping you move again.” He gave Jinki's boxes a dirty look.
“Thank you so much, Jonghyun, for all your help, you were an invaluable asset today,” Jinki replied earnestly, slight emphasis on the ass. Jonghyun seemed to miss this, but Jinki could hear Minho sniggering quietly behind him. He looked over his shoulder, throwing Minho a small smile and a shared look.
After much grumbling - mostly on Jonghyun's part, because Kibum's 'help' had been to give not so useful directions and Taemin had only shown up after the initial moving had been done - Minho and Jinki agreed to feed their friends before politely kicking them out of what was now their apartment. The idea of that, that it was theirs, filled Jinki with a strange, wondrous feeling that he couldn't describe, but he felt a little bit like he was floating.
Kibum was the last to leave, and Jinki lingered at the door with him for a few moments. It was strange in a way too, because Kibum was his best friend and they'd been close for so long. When Jinki had wanted to move out, Kibum had suggested they get a place together and despite the mockery and the embarrassment, it had been a good experience. Whatever Kibum might have said, he'd always looked out for Jinki, and it felt to Jinki a little like the end of an era.
“Oh, don't make that face,” Kibum said, frowning at Jinki. “You're being ridiculous again, aren't you?”
Jinki shook his head. “It's just. It's just, it's kind of scary too, you know?” He admitted, speaking quietly. In the background he could hear the sound of running water as Minho did the dishes. “Getting used to living with someone new, figuring out how it's all going to work.”
Kibum scoffed, “You've practically been living with him for the last however long anyway. You just won't have anywhere to run away to, if you get scared, and that's probably a good thing you know.”
Jinki made a face. “Yeah, well.” He fell silent then, and just stared at Kibum in earnest, not sure what to say but wanting to say something. He opened his mouth but Kibum quickly interrupted him, waving a hand.
“No, don't you dare. Don't you be some sentimental weirdo and make some kind of speech at me, that's weird. It's not like you're leaving the country, you know. You've just moved to a different apartment.”
A smile formed on Jinki's face; it was the perfect way to end this section of his life and start the next. “No doubt you'll still hound me with texts and phone calls when you want help or advice or someone to drink with.”
“I'll have you know I only ever ask for your company when several hundred people above you on my list are busy.” But the look on Kibum's face said everything that his words didn't.
“Yeah yeah, sure, if that makes you feel better about depending so much on me and my charming company.”
Kibum scoffed, and they both ended up laughing together.
Jinki didn't say it, but after Kibum left he sent him a text just saying: thank you. Jinki got a smiley face and a heart in return.
Once everyone was gone, Minho and Jinki settled down on the couch, the television on but nothing in particular holding their attention. Jinki eyed his few boxes neatly stacked in the corner. “I'll unpack stuff tomorrow,” he said, flopping against Minho comfortably.
Instinctively, Minho wound an arm around Jinki, holding him close. In this moment, Jinki felt as happy and as content as he ever had and he still wondered how he'd been lucky enough to find this, to find Minho and to have been able to grow so comfortable and at ease around another person.
“You know, I'm going to need more than one shelf on the bookcase, now,” Jinki said, his voice soft, a smile on his face.
Minho's answering laugh was muffled as he pressed his face into the crook of Jinki's neck, pulling him in closer and nuzzling.
“Stop! That tickles,” he admonished, squirming a little, making it worse. “You're really cheesy sometimes, you know that?” Jinki said after a moment. He could feel Minho's hair tickling his cheek as he held Jinki close.
“Hey, you're all mine now, I'm just enjoying this fact.”
“In the cheesiest way possible.”
Jinki felt Minho's breath against his neck as he laughed again. “But you like it,” he murmured, before pressing small, soft kisses against Jinki's skin. His nerves tingled at the soft touch, and he didn't realise until just then that his hand had slipped beneath Minho's sweater and was slowly rubbing circles against his hip.
How easily Jinki had fallen into this warm, comfortable place with Minho.
“You like to think so,” he whispered back.
Slowly, Minho kissed his way up Jinki's neck, along his jawline, warm, lazy kisses, until their lips met. The kiss was warm, and slow, and sent a steady, pulsing warmth right the way through Jinki's body. Minho's fingers were in his hair and Jinki could feel himself sinking into the moment.
“You know what next week is?” Minho whispered, kissing Jinki between his words.
“Hmm?”
“It's our anniversary.”
“Mhmm,” Jinki agreed. Words were becoming difficult, because whenever Minho kissed him in this slow, lazy way it went straight to his head and made thinking quite a challenge.
“So, you know,” Minho murmured, and Jinki could feel fingers skittering up his back, drawing patterns against his bare skin, “we should get some practice in. For our anniversary night.”
“What are you talking about?” Jinki said, only half paying attention because Minho's tongue was doing sinfully pleasant things to the spot just behind his ear, making Jinki's face flush with pleasure.
When Minho's hand wandered to the front of Jinki's body, his fingers gently playing with one of his nipples, Jinki suddenly got it. “Oh,” he said, in understanding. “Oh,” he said again, his eyes sinking closed as he enjoyed what Minho's hands and mouth were doing to him.
“Okay, practice sounds good,” he agreed.
Their first night together in what was now their home passed by in a blurry haze of pleasure and warmth and Minho, and Jinki was left completely, utterly satisfied. And when he woke in the morning, Minho's body curled warmly against him, their legs tangled together and around the sheets, he still felt that wonder fill him; it hadn't sunk in yet, it didn't feel real, that Jinki didn't have to leave at any point. He would go to work, and he would come back home to this, to Minho. This was it now. It was both the best feeling, and the scariest, because Jinki didn't want to fuck this up like he always worried that he would.
There was a buzz from his phone and carefully, so as not to take Minho, Jinki reached out for his phone. There was a message from Kibum, and reading it made Jinki smile.
I hope you're happy. Don't mess things up by thinking too much, idiot.
Jinki put his phone back - he could reply later - and wrapped his arms back around Minho, and snuggled comfortably into the warmth of his body. He smiled to himself and sank back into the moment of deep satisfaction and comfort. Jinki had never been happier.
- end -
{I am sorry this was so pointless please forgive me ;; this was mostly to fulfill the desire to write one scene in particular - can you guess which? - and then I just got carried away ;;}
Rating: R
Fandom: SHINee
Pairing: Onew/Minho
Wordcount: 8,426
Summary: Six months down the line and Jinki is as happy as he's ever been, but possibly more embarrassing than he's ever been. (A not-quite-sequel to Walk All Over You).
Notes: I started working on this not-sequel quite a long time ago, and only recently finished it. This was inspired by some comments to the first fic (omg thank you guys, I love you so much, you've been so kind to me with my first foray into this fandom ;; ♥) and a few other post-credit scenes, almost, that I wanted to write for this universe, and for this onho. As such it's not technically a fic, or a sequel, because they're just random scenes I wanted to write for them! So please bear this in mind, and be kind, I'm still learning ;~;
This is dedicated to everyone who read WAOY, and especially to Bianca, because ilh and she always encourages me and I finished this mostly for her, you cheeky brat ;~; ♥
Jinki could never do that.
Or, could he?'>
“Whatever it is you're smiling about, I don't want to know about it, okay,” Kibum said, throwing Jinki a look.
Jinki, who had been laying sprawled across the couch, his book set neatly aside as he texted on his phone, looked up at this, deeply confused. “What. What are you talking about? Nothing's going on.”
Kibum gave him a look. “I don't care, I don't want to know.”
“Well I wasn't going to tell you, anyway,” Jinki replied, trying to ignore the fact his comeback sounded just a little childish. He returned his attention to his phone, ignoring whatever look Kibum was probably giving him now; Minho was sending Jinki pictures of himself pulling funny faces, and it was both kind of strange and incredibly adorable.
Quite often during the six months since they'd gotten together, Jinki felt the desire to pinch himself to make sure it was all actually real. He wouldn't be surprised if he woke up one morning and found that all of this was just a long and wonderful dream, it was the kind of torture his stupid brain would do to him, he was sure. It was just, sometimes it was hard to believe that Jinki had found Minho, that Minho actually liked him in return, and that they'd had a really good six months together so far.
But it was all true, and it was all going well, and Minho really did like him in return, there was no doubt about that; he was so open with his feelings, his personality, and his thoughts about Jinki. The twenty or more text messages he'd already received during the course of that day were a good testament to how often Minho thought of him.
It was quiet, so Jinki was surprised when Kibum spoke up after some time, and he made the most inelegant noise possible and dropped his phone - rather painfully too - onto his forehead.
“You know I'm happy for you, right?”
It was an unusually serious moment for Kibum, rare openness from him. Jinki stared, trying to ignore the aching pain in his head. “Of course. Not that you say so very often, because you don't,” Jinki continued, pushing himself up until he was sitting. “But I know you are.”
Kibum nodded, a small smile on his face. “Okay, good. 'Cause I'll probably never say it again, either.”
Jinki laughed and, setting his phone aside, stood up and went quickly over to where Kibum stood and pulled him into a wordless hug. They'd been friends for such a long time, and knew each other so well, that Jinki didn't usually need words from Kibum to know that he really meant well.
“Oh, please, we weren't having a moment, you don't have to do this,” Kibum protested, and Jinki could hear the eye roll in his voice.
Jinki only tightened his hold around Kibum, and smiled warmly into his shoulder, until eventually Kibum gave in and hugged him in return.
“Don't fuck this up, okay?” Kibum said, somewhere near Jinki's neck.
Jinki nodded. “I'll try not to, but you know me,” he joked.
Kibum hummed in agreement. “Well try your best, all the same. You were pathetic before Minho found you, and your pathetic face is so much harder to stomach than your stupidly happy face.”
“Thank you, Kibum,” Jinki said, stepping back, a small smile on his face, “for your endless support. You're so good to me.”
Kibum huffed, but Jinki still received a smile in return, eventually.
**
“You won't throw them away, will you?” Jinki was leaning up against Minho, comfortably pressed up against his chest, Minho's arms wrapped warmly around him.
The television was on but mostly to provide some pleasant background noise and the occasional topic of conversation - that, and Jinki was secretly intrigued by reality shows, Hoarders was a fascinating and terrifying look into the human psyche and how it attempted to cope with terrible, tragic incidents.
“Hm? What are you talking about?” Minho's fingers shuffled loosely through Jinki's hair.
“You know, when you eventually quit,” Jinki replied. Minho shifted, and suddenly Jinki found himself looking into that intense, soulful stare that made his heart pound and his knees wobble. “Um...” Jinki said.
“Oh, you mean my costumes?” A small smile tugged at Minho's lips. “I have been considering it. What use will I have for them, after all?”
Jinki heard the lilt in Minho's voice. He was used to this now though, and he thought he was getting better at it, too. “Well, I can think of many uses for them still.”
Minho raised an eyebrow and waited for Jinki to go on.
He could feel Minho's fingers stroking slowly along the nape of his neck, and tried not to shiver.
“Well, Halloween, for a start,” Jinki continued, smiling up at Minho. “And what if you get invited to any fancy dress parties?”
Minho hummed in thought, making a great play of deep contemplation before his gaze fell on Jinki again, and he didn't quite bother to hide his playful little smile. “No, I really don't think those are compelling reasons.”
Jinki tapped his chin thoughtfully. He tried to bite back a startled little gasp a moment later, when Minho's hand slipped underneath his shirt, his fingers cool against Jinki's warm skin.
“W-well, I can think of a few more,” Jinki managed, stumbling briefly over his words as Minho slowly pushed him down into the couch.
As Minho pressed against him, one leg between Jinki's, his hand sliding higher up Jinki's body until - Jinki groaned, low in his throat, and decided he was done trying to play along and was ready to go with this idea of Minho's. He wrapped his arms around Minho's impossibly tall, impossibly attractive body, and hummed happily as their lips met.
**
Jinki spent more time at Minho's place than at his own these days. It was comfortable, and he was at ease there. One of the happiest days during their relationship so far had been, when a couple of months ago, Minho had given Jinki a key to his place. He'd handed it over casually with a simple “just in case you need it,” but Jinki had seen that this was just bravado and underneath he'd known that Minho was feeling shy in that moment, too. It had been sweet, really, to see Minho like that.
He had taken the key from Minho, trying to hide the true extent of his excitement, because Jinki had thought it might be a bit embarrassing if he'd just started dancing around with joy. And there it had sat on his key chain, happily next to his own key, but Jinki had been too nervous to use it for quite awhile. He had a spotty track record, especially within the recent past, and he hadn't been sure on the protocol or how to go about using this newly given gift of access. He'd felt awkward if he'd just let himself into Minho's place, even when it was planned, and even when Jinki had texted him ten minutes prior to let him know he was on his way. Part of him just really didn't want to do anything wrong and mess up the best thing that had ever happened to him; he really, really liked having Minho in his life.
Minho had soon stopped answering the door, forcing Jinki to start using his key and by now it had become as easy as letting himself into his own place. Easier, probably, because he knew Minho was on the other side, and not Kibum, ready to make fun of him.
It was early in the evening and Jinki was sitting comfortably spread across Minho's couch, a book in hand and music whispering softly in his ears, as he waited for Minho to get back from class. It was just natural for him now, to gravitate towards Minho's place when Jinki wasn't at work or otherwise busy. Minho had even cleared out a shelf in his bookcase, just for Jinki.
Checking the time on his phone, Jinki noticed a message from Minho: Hey, cupcake, running late today, should be back in about an hour. There's some food in the fridge to keep you happy! ｡◕‿◕｡
Jinki sent back a quick message to let him know he understood and that he was going to eat everything in Minho's apartment, including the couch, while he waited. He was used to Minho's jokingly ridiculous terms of endearment by then as well.
Another hour to wait, Jinki thought, as he set his phone aside. He'd been pretty content with reading his book, but now that he knew how long a wait he had until Minho got home he found himself quickly growing bored. Pushing himself up from the couch he started to wonder around the apartment. Already, there were little signs of Jinki's existence, of his time spent here. His bookshelf was a good start, but Minho had also had a photo they'd taken together framed and up on a shelf, and at least one of Jinki on his own as well. There was a cushion that Jinki had pointed out as liking, taking pride of place on Minho's couch, even though it didn't match the rest of the cushions, and there was always some food he liked in the kitchen. It made Jinki's heart swell to see how easily Minho included him in his life, pulled him into it and tried to make it comfortable for him there.
But Minho wasn't here right now, and Jinki looked at all of these sweet signs of his existence with an affectionate smile as he wondered through the apartment. He found himself in the bedroom, a room he no longer felt uncomfortable being in. Even here Minho had included little pieces of Jinki. He had a drawer of his own and not many clothes filled it up yet, but it was there, and it was his.
Jinki found himself in front of Minho's wardrobe, where all his work costumes hung neatly. He pulled the wardrobe open, feeling compelled. Jinki had actually seen Minho in all of them by then and he could remember clearly every occasion, every night, that he'd seen any of them on Minho for the first time. They had all turned out to be amazing nights. Minho looked great in all of them, and Jinki didn't know how someone could look so good and have such an air of confidence, of knowing how good they looked when they were dressed up as a cowboy and dancing around.
Jinki could never do that.
Or, could he?
The thought struck him, and he wondered. He wondered what it was like and if the costumes themselves lent strength to the sexy self confidence that Minho seemed to ooze. There was some time yet, after all, until Minho returned, and Jinki would only be quick. Just the one. It wouldn't hurt, and even if it was the most embarrassing experience of his life, no one would ever know. He could bury any shame and take it to the grave with him.
Quickly, before he could think about it too much, Jinki pulled out the officer's costume, still his favourite one to see on Minho. If anything had the power to make him feel sexy, it would be this one.
It didn't take long and soon Jinki had everything but the boots on. The shirt was too wide in the shoulders and the trousers were far too long in the leg, but they were incredibly tight. Jinki almost wanted to blush when he glanced in the mirror and saw how little they left to the imagination. But they were, he thought, kind of sexy, even if they were on himself and not Minho and his perfect body.
Jinki turned to face the mirror properly and tried to pose as he'd seen Minho do in the past, attempting to emulate his easy, relaxed self confidence. The clothes definitely helped a little, Jinki decided, as he continued to try and pose sexily, but he still felt a little bit ridiculous. Was there such a thing as sexy but ridiculous, he wondered, because if there was maybe Jinki could fit himself into that category; he might not mind that too much.
He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't hear anything until it was too late. Minho's voice rang through the apartment, calling Jinki's name, letting him know he was back and going on about having been able to finish up earlier than expected. Jinki felt his heart drop, and he looked down briefly, expecting to see it sitting there on the floor at his feet. He felt sick, and he looked around, panicked, trying to figure out what to do, where to hide. He had to take these clothes off! It would be much better, and much easier to explain, at least, if he was naked in Minho's room, and not in his work clothes.
But there was no time, Minho's steps were already at the door and Jinki could see him standing there in the doorway, reflected in the mirror. He froze, for a moment, wondering what he could possibly do, say, to not make it seem like he'd lost his mind. They'd been in a nice, steady relationship for awhile now, it was true, but Jinki was certain they hadn't yet passed that point where being weird could just end it all.
Summoning up a great reserve of bravery, Jinki pasted a little smile onto his face and turned around. The look on Minho's face seemed to be a mixture of amusement, confusion, and something else Jinki couldn't quite work out. The struggle not to burst out laughing, maybe?
“Oh, hello!” Jinki said, brightly, trying his hardest to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary. “Um, you might be wondering about this, I guess, but I was just making sure I hadn't missed a calling of mine.”
This had Minho raise his eyebrows as he stepped further into the room. He seemed to look Jinki over, and this made him want to blush; he tried not to. “A calling?”
“Oh yeah, you know,” Jinki waved a hand, and nearly smacked himself in the face in the process. “I wanted to make sure that stripping wasn't my destiny, or something. You know, a hidden talent. I didn't want to be really good at it, but never know because I hadn't tried it? So I was just finding out, if I'd missed my calling in life.”
Minho seemed to struggle then not to laugh. Jinki was sure he wanted to. “You were finding out if it was your destiny to be a stripper?”
Well, Jinki had no choice but to go along with this now, as it was the only excuse he could come up with that was remotely feasible; he didn't think that Minho would be convinced that armed robbers had broken in and threatened Jinki, at gun point, to put on Minho's work clothes.
“Yes,” Jinki nodded, trying to emanate honesty and confidence in this story. “Yes, I was.”
It seemed that Minho couldn't quite keep it in any more, and the laughter started to bubble forth. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, but it didn't do much to muffle the sounds of mirth coming from him. Minho was laughing really, really hard.
“Oh, Jinki,” Minho managed, between his breathless laughter. “Oh, don't quit your day job, okay?”
Jinki knew he must have looked ridiculous, standing there in a shirt too big for him, trousers too long for him, and just moments ago trying to pose sexily in front of the mirror and he knew it must be funny to witness, but part of that stung. Jinki wished it didn't, because it was a stupid thing to be hurt by when it was true.
He quickly pasted a smile onto his face and tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, I learnt that I don't have the hidden talent to be a stripper.” He plucked at the overly large shirt, rolling the fabric between his fingers, trying not to look at Minho.
Abruptly, Minho stopped laughing, and for a moment he looked stricken. He stepped forward and took Jinki's hand between his own. “Oh, no. No, I didn't mean it to sound like that,” he said quickly, looking earnestly into Jinki's face. “I'm sorry. Jinki, I don't mean that you're not sexy, because you are. I just meant, you don't seem cut out for the dancing on stage part? You blush sometimes when I look at you, could you imagine a roomful of people doing it?”
Jinki, looking away, mumbled defensively, “I only blush sometimes because your stare is really intense, okay. You've never been on the receiving end of it.” And it was perfectly true, sometimes when Minho looked at him, Jinki could feel his heart quiver and his knees wobble, and it was as if Minho was looking into his very soul.
“Jinki,” Minho said, and the sound of his voice pulled Jinki's gaze back to Minho's face. There was sincerity there, with his apology. “I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it to sound like it did.”
“Oh, it's fine,” Jinki said, feeling a little bit uncomfortable now. He really, really wanted to change out of Minho's clothes and get back into his own and forget this ever happened. And then he wanted to die, because clearly he was too embarrassing to live. “I mean, I get it. This is pretty ridiculous, after all.”
Minho shook his head. “You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?” He said, voice low. “How sexy you can be.”
Jinki, eyes wide, shook his head, disbelieving. “What, me? No, no way. I mean, look at me right now.” He gestured helplessly, at himself, though Jinki had no idea how he looked to anyone who wasn't himself. Although the shirt was too big for him the top few buttons were undone in his mad attempt to get the clothes off, and the trousers were too long for him, bunching up on top of his bare feet and loose around his hips, but they were tight and almost flush against his skin. He had no idea how he looked, in that moment; to Minho, Jinki was a mixture of adorable, ridiculous, and sexy enough that he wanted to take him right then and there and prove it to him.
He wasn't privy to any of these thoughts running through Minho's head, but Jinki could see the way Minho's eyes were travelling over his body, and it was starting to bring a redness to his cheeks, as if Minho was sizing him up, or getting ready to eat him.
“Don't be silly,” Jinki managed, feeling a little flustered all of a sudden.
“Do you remember that time, in the bathroom?” Minho began, and it seemed to him an effort to pull his gaze away from those trousers and back to Jinki's face.
“That's very specific, but no, I don't,” Jinki answered, feeling confused from this sudden change of topic. What was Minho getting at?
Taking a step closer, Minho continued to speak. “When we went to that bar, the themed one Kibum dragged us out to. And you were so ready for it, halfway through the night, that you took my hand and dragged me into the bathroom.”
Jinki made a silent oh with his mouth as the memory started to trickle back into his mind. Yes, of course, there was no way he was going to forget that night, when he'd felt unusually uninhibited and brave, and had wanted, needed, to feel Minho's cock in his mouth.
Minho's fingers were toying with the edge of Jinki's shirt and it seemed to him that Minho had taken a step closer, as well. “You sucked me off, right there in a bathroom stall, and I've never known anything to feel so good before.”
Jinki definitely remembered that, and he felt his face heat up with the memory. He wasn't chaste and he wasn't a prude, and six months down the line was long enough for them to have definitely gotten up to a lot of fun things together, but Jinki was not usually so blatant about such things; that night had been quite a change for him.
“It was really, really sexy.” Minho's voice was soft and low, and it sent a shiver down Jinki's spine.
He didn't know what to say, what to do. He could feel Minho's stare on him, could feel Minho's words a warm breath away. And, Jinki slowly realised, he could feel Minho's fingers slowly, steadily, undoing the remaining buttons on the policeman's shirt he was wearing. Biting on his lower lip, Jinki managed to say, “W-well, I tried.”
Minho's fingers skittered across Jinki's now bare skin, and he shivered at the touch. “You don't have to try,” Minho murmured. His breath was warm and a moment later Jinki could feel kisses being pressed across his collarbone; a warmth began to spread through him. “You're sexy when you don't try,” Minho murmured, words hot against Jinki's skin, his tongue following the line of Jinki's neck. “When you don't realise what it is you're doing. When you stop trying to over-analyse it, or put yourself down.” There were fingers at Jinki's hips, dipping below the waist of his trousers, pressing against his skin.
He wound his arms around Minho, trying to draw him closer, feeling a need for him begin to well up inside of himself. “O-okay,” Jinki murmured, voice catching, as he really didn't know what else to say. Words were becoming difficult.
“And,” Minho added, his voice soft against Jinki's ear, before his teeth took hold of his earlobe and nibbled playfully, pulling an involuntary noise from Jinki's throat. “I do think you're quite sexy when you wear my clothes.”
Jinki felt himself just melt against Minho then, when their mouths finally met. His fingers clutched at the back of Minho's shirt, as Jinki nipped lightly, teasingly, at Minho's lower lip. It earned him a grunt, and Minho deepened the kiss. Jinki felt his head begin to spin, and wondered if he was going to drown in this moment. He didn't think he'd mind.
His hands tugged at Minho's shirt then, and slid up, underneath, to press against hot skin. His hand followed the curve of Minho's back, and then his fingers dipped into the creases of Minho's toned chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath his hot, hot skin. Jinki could feel Minho shiver under his touch as one of his fingers skittered across a nipple, teasing until it pebbled under his touch.
Minho slipped a leg between Jinki's, pressing them closer together, and one of his hands wound its way into Jinki's hair as they continued to share hot, heady kisses. They were pressed so close together, Jinki was sure Minho could feel Jinki's erection against his leg.
“What's that in your pocket?” Minho whispered between kisses, his words fanning softly against Jinki's cheek. “Or are you happy to see me?”
It was so stupid, and so bad, at such a ridiculous moment, but Jinki couldn't help laughing, low and breathy, at Minho's terrible joke. “I've got an apple in my pocket,” he whispered back, a smile on his face as he kissed his way across Minho's jawline.
“Hmm, shame.” As if to prove Jinki wrong, Minho's hand reached between them and rubbed against Jinki's crotch, eliciting a low moan from him. “I think you're lying.”
“Just bending the truth, a little,” Jinki replied. His hands were splayed against Minho's shoulders, revelling in all the strength he could feel there, beneath his skin.
Minho pulled his hand away and Jinki groaned a little at the loss of this pleasant sensation. He didn't have long to miss it though, because Minho was pushing the rest of the shirt down and off of Jinki's shoulders, letting it drop carelessly to the floor, before slowly walking Jinki back towards the bed. It hit the backs of Jinki's knees before he expected it, and he stumbled and fell back against the bed, a breathless laugh falling from him in his surprise.
Smiling, Minho crawled onto the bed beside him, and quickly claimed Jinki's mouth again. As they kissed, almost desperately, Jinki wound an arm around Minho to draw their bodies closer, feeling the need for them to be as near each other as possible. His other hand slipped between them until he found the front of Minho's trousers. Smiling almost cheekily against Minho's mouth, Jinki began to rub at the bulge in Minho's trousers.
This had Minho groan, low, the sound deep in his throat, against Jinki's lips. A thrill went through Jinki at the sound; he loved hearing Minho like this, noises made just for him, noises made because of him. Jinki pressed harder, and he could feel Minho tighten the grip on his hip, where his hands had wandered.
The small smile was still on Jinki's face as Minho broke the kiss, lowering his face to spread kisses across Jinki's neck instead. Jinki's skin felt warm and tingled pleasantly wherever Minho's lips pressed, but it wasn't quite enough to distract him from the task at hand. He had Minho's trousers unbuttoned and was pushing them down off his hips to give himself better access. And then Jinki's hand found what it was looking for, and pressed against the bulge in Minho's boxers, rubbing slowly. He could feel hot, heavy breaths against his skin.
Slowly, teasingly, his fingers dipped beneath the waistband, and Jinki knew he was starting to get to Minho when he felt teeth press just under his jawline. When his fingers met hot skin and moved across, with just the lightest of touches, Jinki could feel the shudder move through Minho's body, and he revelled in the feeling it gave him.
“Oh, god,” Minho grunted, his voice impossibly low now, and that did something to Jinki, unwinding some chord within him. After a few more teasing touches he took Minho firmly in hand and began to stroke him. Minho was hot under his palm, his breath coming heavier now, and when he ground out Jinki's name, the sounds coming out in a breathy shudder, Jinki could feel it add to the strain in his own boxers.
As Jinki stroked deliberately, holding firm, just how Minho liked it, Minho's hands wandered over his body, fingers touching, stroking and eventually almost clinging, as Jinki sped up his motions. His hips bucked against Jinki's hand, and Jinki swallowed thickly, unable to tear his focus away from Minho's face. He looked incredible like this, eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure, lips parted to allow even the smallest of sounds to pass, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths. Jinki was amazed, every time.
“Minho,” he murmured as he watched, and Minho's eyes focused on Jinki, meeting his gaze with that look that made Jinki's knees quake. Oh, God, Jinki thought. He really, really needed to be touched. Hands, a mouth, more, something.
With a groan, Minho reached down and pulled Jinki's hand away. Jinki opened his mouth to protest - he'd been enjoying himself, enjoying watching Minho, but Minho leaned forward and kissed him hungrily, a deep and searching kiss that stole Jinki's breath away. He felt Minho's hand palming him through his trousers (the trousers he still stupidly had on) and Jinki let out a long, shaky breath against Minho's lips.
There was friction and it was beginning to drive Jinki crazy; his fingers scrabbled at the jeans, pushing Minho's hand away just long enough so he could get the damn things undone. Minho's mouth had moved to Jinki's neck in the meantime, spreading hot, wet kisses from jaw to collarbone, making Jinki's skin flush pleasantly beneath every press of Minho's lips. Hands were wandering across his body, distracting Jinki from the job at hand: getting the tightest pair of jeans he'd ever worn, off.
He'd forgotten that they weren't his jeans, that they were pretty much skin tight, and pushing them off wasn't as easy as he'd anticipated. He grunted, frustrated, at his inability to get them very far down his legs. And his frustration was beginning to lead to embarrassment because this, right now, struggling to get his trousers off, this was not sexy or fuckable.
As Jinki struggled, he could feel Minho's lips curve against his skin, where he was kissing behind Jinki's earlobe, and feel soft breath fluttering across his skin.
“Are you...are you laughing?” Jinki asked, incredulous, his struggle momentarily on hold as he tried to lean back and look into Minho's face. Jinki was right, and at any other time, being able to feel Minho's amusement like he just had would have warmed him inside, but right now it just furthered his embarrassment. Could he ever get anything right? “You are,” he accused, sounding almost hurt.
Minho, shaking his head, leant forward and pulled Jinki into his arms, his face nuzzling into the curve of Jinki's neck comfortingly. He could still hear the smile in Minho's voice when he spoke. “Not at you, not really. Just,” Minho pulled back a little and looked down into Jinki's face. “You've forgotten what these trousers are used for.”
“Used for?” Jinki questioned, feeling a little put off by Minho's sudden vagueness. Things had been getting very steamy, and now Jinki had ruined it by being inept and Minho was furthering it by giving him riddles. “You use them to look good in. And dance in. I don't see what you're getting at.”
Minho's smile widened further, and Jinki could feel himself getting properly annoyed. Without a word, keeping his eyes trained on Jinki's face, Minho reached down. His hands slid first, teasingly, over Jinki's crotch, making his body react inspite of his annoyance, and then Minho's fingers trailed slowly across Jinki's thighs. Jinki had no idea what Minho actually did, he could just feel the warm pressure of a hand against the side of his thigh, but a moment later there was a small sound and one side of the trousers had come undone, soon followed by Minho's hand and the other side.
The smile on Minho's face was almost smug in its wideness now, as he looked down at Jinki. “I also strip in them,” he said, voice low, just the way Minho probably knew could make Jinki's insides quiver, “and they have to be easy enough to take off.”
“Oh.” Jinki blinked, feeling stupider than ever now. He was only ever stupid with Minho, he swore, and only when Minho was doing things that made it almost impossible to think straight.
“Yeah, oh,” Minho said, laughing as he teased a little. But his hands were now roaming over Jinki's bared thighs, caressing the warm skin, making Jinki shiver under the press of Minho's fingertips, and the look in his eyes had become so heated that Jinki suddenly found himself not minding so much. “Now, where were we?” Minho murmured, bringing himself down to steal another kiss from Jinki, deep and hot and enough to get Jinki to that point of sexual frustration he'd been at not long ago. That, and Minho's hand had slipped beneath the waistband of Jinki's boxers and was now slowly stroking heated skin.
Jinki groaned, shuddering with pleasure, and arched up against Minho's hand. “Right here,” he murmured, finding words difficult now. “We were right...right here.” And, oh yes, right there, Jinki thought to himself, sinking into the mattress with pleasure.
**
“Jiiiiiinki,” Minho called, pulling the sound out in a familiar whine that Jinki understood instantly.
He didn't turn from what he was doing, busy frying meat over the cooker, and called out, “Whatever it is: No.”
He heard the sound of feet coming towards the kitchen and another whining call of his name, this time closer. “Just listen for a moment?”
Jinki still didn't turn around, but he could just picture the wide-eyed imploring look Minho must have on his face, it made him smile to himself. And again he said, “Nope. I don't want to.” He was teasing, but Minho couldn't see the smile on his face.
A moment later and Jinki felt arms sliding around his waist from behind. He jumped and let out a soft gasp in surprise, letting go of the frying pan quickly before he could do any terrible damage. Minho's lips were close to his ear, and he lowered his voice as he spoke, “Please, Jinki.”
Jinki narrowed his eyes; it was a dirty trick, because Minho knew what that tone did to him, how the sound of his voice so close to his ear could send shivers the length of Jinki's body. “You wouldn't be whining at me if you knew it wasn't something I probably won't want to do,” Jinki said, trying very, very hard not to shiver in Minho's hold. “So I'm saying no already.” But still, he couldn't quite keep the teasing smile from his face.
Minho turned Jinki in his arms so they could face each other, and his eyes widened when he finally caught sight of the look on Jinki's face. “You've just been teasing me this whole time!” He accused, pulling a face. It was really adorable, Jinki thought.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted, smile widening. One of the many things Jinki was discovering in these months together was that Minho was terribly fun to tease.
Minho's look of faux hurt was still on his face. “So, now that that's out of the way, will you please listen to me?”
“Just a moment,” Jinki said, and turned around again. A smile tugged at his face, imagining Minho's expression just then, but he had done it with purpose, he didn't want to ruin the meat. As Jinki finished cooking it, he could hear Minho huffing behind him. “You can huff all you like,” Jinki said, “but you don't want me to ruin dinner, do you?”
When Minho next spoke the words were tucked away against Jinki's neck, soft and breathy and surprised. “You're cooking dinner for me?”
“For us,” Jinki corrected, trying not to let it show, the way Minho's breath against his neck made him feel. “I'm eating this too, you know. It's not a completely selfless endeavour.” He could feel Minho's laugh against his skin; shivers ran down the length of Jinki's body. Carefully, he set the hot pan aside, turned the cooker off, and finally turned to face Minho again, because despite all his acting just then he was dying to see Minho and feel him under his hands.
When he turned, Minho's arms looped easily around Jinki's waist once again and Jinki's hands came up to rest across Minho's shoulders; they were comfortably slotted together.
“Now, what were you going to ask me?” Jinki asked pleasantly, unable to quite hide the smile from his face, a smile for no reason other than he was here, with Minho, and they were happy.
Minho, his face still tucked into the crook of Jinki's neck, mumbled in a not-quite answer, “I don't want you to say no.”
“Now, how can I promise that when I don't know what you're going to ask?” Unable to help himself, Jinki reached down with one hand and let his fingers travel slowly, lazily, through Minho's dark hair. One of his favourite parts of relationships, he had decided, was reaching that point where you were comfortable; comfortable being around the other person, comfortable touching them and them touching you, being together. He felt like they'd reached that point, and it was good.
Eventually, Minho pulled back enough so he could look into Jinki's face. He seemed to be psyching himself up for this, as if he were going to ask Jinki to do something he'd probably not want to do. “Well, you know, next Thursday is my last day, and I wanted you to, well, to come to it.”
Jinki frowned, puzzled. “Your last day? Where?” His mind scanned his memories, looking for the one that would suddenly unlock the understanding for this conversation, and when Jinki found it a moment later his mouth opened in surprise. “Oh. Oh! Your last night at the club.”
Minho nodded, and he seemed to be watching Jinki's face quite closely. He seemed to have no idea just how that look affected people, Jinki was sure, because it was serious and earnest and searching, and sometimes it was too much to look back at.
“And you want me to come watch?” Jinki continued, avoiding Minho's intense gaze. He remembered the first time he'd been there, how much of an embarrassing experience it had been for him. A mortifying mistake, really. And he'd been so unprepared.
“Yeah,” Minho said, nodding. “I don't know. It might sound stupid,” and here, Minho began to look a little unsure of himself, as if he didn't have a good reason for asking, “but I'd really like for you to be there, for the last time.”
Jinki considered it. It would still be embarrassing, he knew, because not many, if any, men were likely to show up to a Ladies Night, and he still felt awkward just at the idea of sitting there and watching Minho and other men dance around on stage sexily to music. It might, he thought, be even more difficult now that they had, um, explored, the many benefits of all of Minho's various costumes for work, and that Jinki had rather vivid memories attached to each and every outfit. Still, it wouldn't be an embarrassing mistake this time, he'd walk into it knowing what he was getting into. And Minho wanted him there.
In the end, Jinki wasn't going to say no because Minho was asking him, and he had learnt that it was very, very difficult to say no to Minho, especially when the question shone so earnestly in his face.
“Of course,” Jinki said eventually. “If you want me there, I'll be there.”
The smile that broke out across Minho's face would almost be worth it, Jinki thought. And if it wasn't, he could get Minho to make it up to him afterwards.
**
It was Thursday, and Minho's last night at the club. As promised Jinki was there, and somehow he had managed to get Kibum to come along with him. He wasn't sure how he had managed it without bribery, threats, or being the biggest nuisance Jinki knew how to be; Kibum had agreed and surprisingly easily, for him.
So there they were, seated a little ways from the stage and the main seating area, safely at the bar. The show wasn't due to start for another ten or so minutes yet, so there they were, sipping at their drinks, and Jinki left wondering why exactly Kibum had agreed to come with him.
“What's in this for you, anyway?” Jinki asked, looking across at his friend, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“This is my last opportunity to see you squirm in public as you watch your boyfriend strip in a roomful of women,” Kibum said, turning to give Jinki a grin, “what isn't in this for me?”
Jinki huffed.
“Anyway,” Kibum added, “you owe me.”
“What?” Jinki's eyes widened. “No, no way, you agreed to come without any strings or any favours, don't pull that on me.”
Kibum rolled his eyes. “No, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't be dating a tall, sexy stripper in the first place.”
Appalled, Jinki waved a hand at Kibum trying to hush him, even though the murmur of voices around them was loud enough and Jinki didn't think anyone was listening to them anyway. “Keep it down! And that's not true.”
“Yes, it is. If my scarf hadn't been stolen you never would have run into Minho in the first place.”
The lights began to dim then and the babble of voices quietened around them. As the beat of the music began to pulse throughout the room, Jinki leaned in close to whisper, “I'd have met Minho anyway. Jonghyun brought him out that one night with us, remember?”
Kibum frowned and rolled his eyes again, unwilling to admit defeat, and then the dancing began and talking was a very unnecessary thing.
Minho was on first and he spun onto the stage, body moving to the dirty, deep beat of the music. He was in his cop outfit, and Jinki could feel himself growing hot and uncomfortable. Why had he agreed to come tonight? Why? It was even worse now, he thought, than that first night, because this time he was watching Minho thrust his body, sway his hips, spin and grind and slowly pull his clothes off, and Jinki knew what it was like to have those hips grind against him, to feel the hardness of Minho's body pressed against his own, naked and needy.
Jinki swallowed thickly, because this wasn't helping him get through this, not at all. Oh god, why was he so stupid, why was he doing this.
Because Minho had asked him, a part of him reminded himself. Because when he wasn't being sexy and seductive, he was sweet, and romantic, and a little bit cheesy, and he would have done anything Jinki had asked, would have gone to anything that Jinki might have done.
With a different kind of warmth filling Jinki now, he leaned in a little towards Kibum, a realisation having dawned on him in that moment. “I want to move in with Minho,” he whispered softly.
Kibum turned just enough to give him a weird look, before returning his attention back to the stage; other men had come out to join Minho on stage now. “Strange time to tell me this, but okay.”
Strange or not, it was in that moment, as he watched Minho be sexy on stage and thought about all the things Minho had done, and would do for him, Jinki knew that he was ready to move on to the next stage of their relationship.
But after this night had ended, because his thoughts soon began to wonder back to knowing what it was like to be between those long, perfect legs, and Jinki had a difficult time trying not to let those memories manifest in an embarrassingly physical way.
**
“Alright, that's the last box,” Jonghyun huffed, looking a little put out as he dropped it onto the living room floor, next to the small pile of all of Jinki's other possessions. “You need to invest in one of those ebook things, cause I'm never helping you move again.” He gave Jinki's boxes a dirty look.
“Thank you so much, Jonghyun, for all your help, you were an invaluable asset today,” Jinki replied earnestly, slight emphasis on the ass. Jonghyun seemed to miss this, but Jinki could hear Minho sniggering quietly behind him. He looked over his shoulder, throwing Minho a small smile and a shared look.
After much grumbling - mostly on Jonghyun's part, because Kibum's 'help' had been to give not so useful directions and Taemin had only shown up after the initial moving had been done - Minho and Jinki agreed to feed their friends before politely kicking them out of what was now their apartment. The idea of that, that it was theirs, filled Jinki with a strange, wondrous feeling that he couldn't describe, but he felt a little bit like he was floating.
Kibum was the last to leave, and Jinki lingered at the door with him for a few moments. It was strange in a way too, because Kibum was his best friend and they'd been close for so long. When Jinki had wanted to move out, Kibum had suggested they get a place together and despite the mockery and the embarrassment, it had been a good experience. Whatever Kibum might have said, he'd always looked out for Jinki, and it felt to Jinki a little like the end of an era.
“Oh, don't make that face,” Kibum said, frowning at Jinki. “You're being ridiculous again, aren't you?”
Jinki shook his head. “It's just. It's just, it's kind of scary too, you know?” He admitted, speaking quietly. In the background he could hear the sound of running water as Minho did the dishes. “Getting used to living with someone new, figuring out how it's all going to work.”
Kibum scoffed, “You've practically been living with him for the last however long anyway. You just won't have anywhere to run away to, if you get scared, and that's probably a good thing you know.”
Jinki made a face. “Yeah, well.” He fell silent then, and just stared at Kibum in earnest, not sure what to say but wanting to say something. He opened his mouth but Kibum quickly interrupted him, waving a hand.
“No, don't you dare. Don't you be some sentimental weirdo and make some kind of speech at me, that's weird. It's not like you're leaving the country, you know. You've just moved to a different apartment.”
A smile formed on Jinki's face; it was the perfect way to end this section of his life and start the next. “No doubt you'll still hound me with texts and phone calls when you want help or advice or someone to drink with.”
“I'll have you know I only ever ask for your company when several hundred people above you on my list are busy.” But the look on Kibum's face said everything that his words didn't.
“Yeah yeah, sure, if that makes you feel better about depending so much on me and my charming company.”
Kibum scoffed, and they both ended up laughing together.
Jinki didn't say it, but after Kibum left he sent him a text just saying: thank you. Jinki got a smiley face and a heart in return.
Once everyone was gone, Minho and Jinki settled down on the couch, the television on but nothing in particular holding their attention. Jinki eyed his few boxes neatly stacked in the corner. “I'll unpack stuff tomorrow,” he said, flopping against Minho comfortably.
Instinctively, Minho wound an arm around Jinki, holding him close. In this moment, Jinki felt as happy and as content as he ever had and he still wondered how he'd been lucky enough to find this, to find Minho and to have been able to grow so comfortable and at ease around another person.
“You know, I'm going to need more than one shelf on the bookcase, now,” Jinki said, his voice soft, a smile on his face.
Minho's answering laugh was muffled as he pressed his face into the crook of Jinki's neck, pulling him in closer and nuzzling.
“Stop! That tickles,” he admonished, squirming a little, making it worse. “You're really cheesy sometimes, you know that?” Jinki said after a moment. He could feel Minho's hair tickling his cheek as he held Jinki close.
“Hey, you're all mine now, I'm just enjoying this fact.”
“In the cheesiest way possible.”
Jinki felt Minho's breath against his neck as he laughed again. “But you like it,” he murmured, before pressing small, soft kisses against Jinki's skin. His nerves tingled at the soft touch, and he didn't realise until just then that his hand had slipped beneath Minho's sweater and was slowly rubbing circles against his hip.
How easily Jinki had fallen into this warm, comfortable place with Minho.
“You like to think so,” he whispered back.
Slowly, Minho kissed his way up Jinki's neck, along his jawline, warm, lazy kisses, until their lips met. The kiss was warm, and slow, and sent a steady, pulsing warmth right the way through Jinki's body. Minho's fingers were in his hair and Jinki could feel himself sinking into the moment.
“You know what next week is?” Minho whispered, kissing Jinki between his words.
“Hmm?”
“It's our anniversary.”
“Mhmm,” Jinki agreed. Words were becoming difficult, because whenever Minho kissed him in this slow, lazy way it went straight to his head and made thinking quite a challenge.
“So, you know,” Minho murmured, and Jinki could feel fingers skittering up his back, drawing patterns against his bare skin, “we should get some practice in. For our anniversary night.”
“What are you talking about?” Jinki said, only half paying attention because Minho's tongue was doing sinfully pleasant things to the spot just behind his ear, making Jinki's face flush with pleasure.
When Minho's hand wandered to the front of Jinki's body, his fingers gently playing with one of his nipples, Jinki suddenly got it. “Oh,” he said, in understanding. “Oh,” he said again, his eyes sinking closed as he enjoyed what Minho's hands and mouth were doing to him.
“Okay, practice sounds good,” he agreed.
Their first night together in what was now their home passed by in a blurry haze of pleasure and warmth and Minho, and Jinki was left completely, utterly satisfied. And when he woke in the morning, Minho's body curled warmly against him, their legs tangled together and around the sheets, he still felt that wonder fill him; it hadn't sunk in yet, it didn't feel real, that Jinki didn't have to leave at any point. He would go to work, and he would come back home to this, to Minho. This was it now. It was both the best feeling, and the scariest, because Jinki didn't want to fuck this up like he always worried that he would.
There was a buzz from his phone and carefully, so as not to take Minho, Jinki reached out for his phone. There was a message from Kibum, and reading it made Jinki smile.
I hope you're happy. Don't mess things up by thinking too much, idiot.
Jinki put his phone back - he could reply later - and wrapped his arms back around Minho, and snuggled comfortably into the warmth of his body. He smiled to himself and sank back into the moment of deep satisfaction and comfort. Jinki had never been happier.
- end -
{I am sorry this was so pointless please forgive me ;; this was mostly to fulfill the desire to write one scene in particular - can you guess which? - and then I just got carried away ;;}