now playing; minho/key
Now Playing
Minho/Key; NC-17; 1000 w.
Kibum’s never had much affection for horror movies, but he supposes they’re not as bad as he would think.
A/N: prompted by lone3r and bambiham, who had lots of fun lol-ing with me in the theater about it as we waited for Harry Potter. Title credit goes to bambiham.
“I don’t like this,” Kibum says, digging his nails into Minho’s arm. “I don’t like this at all.”
Minho spares him a glance before returning to the massacre on the screen. “Suck it up,” Minho says. “You were out-voted.”
Kibum whimpers as a busty blonde is stabbed by her knife-wielding boyfriend. “I should have stayed at home,” he laments, covering his eyes with his hands.
“Karma,” Minho remarks, eyes firmly fixed on the screen.
Somewhere to Minho’s left, Taemin grabs a handful of Minho’s popcorn and spills it all over the floor. Minho hands the bag to him.
“Karma,” Kibum repeats blankly. “When have I ever done anything this bad to you?”
“Last week,” Jonghyun adds helpfully from Kibum’s right, “when you dragged us shopping. Now be quiet. I’m trying to enjoy the movie.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would,” Kibum mutters. He winces as a man’s head is torn from his body. “Ew, that’s disgusting. How can you watch this?”
Minho doesn’t say anything as he pushes up their shared armrest, reaches over, and grabs Kibum’s belt buckle. Eyes firm on the screen, he nudges Kibum’s abdomen with his knuckles before he carefully unfastens his pants.
Startling, Kibum leans over and hisses, “What are you doing?” He tosses Jonghyun a furtive glance, but Jonghyun’s eyes are riveted on the screen.
Oh God, what a horrible place to get a hand job, Kibum thinks, but he doesn’t move to stop him.
Minho’s long, beautiful fingers slip under his waistband, and Kibum’s biting his lip to stop himself from making some sort of noise. How can he even see what he’s doing, Kibum thinks as he watches Minho’s face instead of the movie.
Face stoic and unchanged, Minho wraps his fingers firmly around Kibum, who is quickly hardening under his touch.
Kibum’s convinced it’s just some huge cosmic joke against him, because they’re sitting in a dark, albeit nearly empty, theater, watching some crappy low budget horror film, and Jonghyun’s sitting right next to him, and he could glance over at any minute and see Minho’s hand down his pants, and oh my God, why was he getting harder.
Kibum shuts his eyes and clenches his hand into a fist on his armrest. Minho spreads his precome over the tip of his erection with his thumb. It’s rough without much lubricant, but Kibum’s half-reveling in the friction, and he’s so desperate to get off he hardly cares.
He watches the screen without absorbing the images, biting his lip to keep himself from sighing in pleasure. He feels so very, very dirty, and the rational, coherent part of his brain is hoping that Jonghyun doesn’t look over and call them out for doing inappropriate things in public places, or Taemin doesn’t reach over Minho for the Whoppers he left in Minho’s right pocket and become scarred for life, or Onew doesn’t get up to go on another bathroom break and pass by them and their tryst, and why can’t he stop thinking!
He turns his face and buries it in Minho’s shoulder because he’s been doing it for the better half of the movie, and surely they’ll think he’s just disgusted by the gore again. Minho’s fingers tighten evilly, and Kibum lets out a small choked noise that’s muffled by the fabric of Minho’s jacket.
“That’s so obviously fake,” Taemin suddenly says in an angry voice, and Kibum stiffens. “It’s like they didn’t even try.” Jonghyun makes a strange noise of agreement.
Minho’s hand doesn’t even pause as he says, “I told you not to raise your expectations.”
Kibum would have sobbed if he could spare the air. Instead, he reaches over and digs his hand into Minho’s thigh beseechingly. Minho tightens his fingers in response, leaning over to press his lips against the shell of Kibum’s ear.
“I wish I could see you right now,” Minho whispers. “I bet your cheeks are flushed the same way they do when you’re angry. Are they?”
Kibum’s pretty sure they are, but he just bites down on Minho’s jacket and pants out his agreement. He’s so close to orgasm he can almost taste it on his tongue. Then again, that could just be the taste of the fabric, but he’s not coherent enough to separate his senses.
It’s only a few moment later that Kibum’s spilling into Minho’s palm messily. His fingers retreat smoothly, and Kibum’s almost offended that Minho didn’t even tuck him back into his pants. Then he looks up and sees Minho cleaning off his hand with his tongue, looking much like the proverbial cat who got the cream, and his mouth goes dry.
Once Minho’s done, he reaches back over and politely tucks him in, patting his cock fondly before carefully zipping up Kibum’s pants. Kibum’s eyes drift back to the screen as he turns his head and rests his cheek on Minho’s shoulder.
The movie is almost over, and the crazed murderer is revealed to be the main character’s long-lost cousin, whose problems could all be traced back to a lack of attention as a child that stunted her emotional development. Kibum rolls his eyes at the cliché before letting them fall shut.
Taemin makes a disgusted noise as the lights turn back on. “That was horrible,” he laments, noisily sipping the last of his soda.
Kibum can hear the grin in Jonghyun’s voice as he replies, “Kibum seemed to enjoy it.”
Taemin chokes on his drink, and Kibum blushes, eyes snapping open to fall on Jonghyun, whose lecherous grin is dripping off his face. He reaches over and punches Jonghyun’s thigh.
“I thought he hated horror,” Onew says off-handedly, his confusion evident.
“Let’s go!” Taemin says loudly, pulling the eldest away before he caught wind of the debauchery that occurred only a few seats away.
Kibum watches their backs retreat with a blank expression.
“Really, though,” Jonghyun says after a moment. “In a theater?”
Kibum punches him again and tries his hardest to ignore Minho’s smug, satisfied expression.
Minho/Key; NC-17; 1000 w.
Kibum’s never had much affection for horror movies, but he supposes they’re not as bad as he would think.
A/N: prompted by lone3r and bambiham, who had lots of fun lol-ing with me in the theater about it as we waited for Harry Potter. Title credit goes to bambiham.
“I don’t like this,” Kibum says, digging his nails into Minho’s arm. “I don’t like this at all.”
Minho spares him a glance before returning to the massacre on the screen. “Suck it up,” Minho says. “You were out-voted.”
Kibum whimpers as a busty blonde is stabbed by her knife-wielding boyfriend. “I should have stayed at home,” he laments, covering his eyes with his hands.
“Karma,” Minho remarks, eyes firmly fixed on the screen.
Somewhere to Minho’s left, Taemin grabs a handful of Minho’s popcorn and spills it all over the floor. Minho hands the bag to him.
“Karma,” Kibum repeats blankly. “When have I ever done anything this bad to you?”
“Last week,” Jonghyun adds helpfully from Kibum’s right, “when you dragged us shopping. Now be quiet. I’m trying to enjoy the movie.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would,” Kibum mutters. He winces as a man’s head is torn from his body. “Ew, that’s disgusting. How can you watch this?”
Minho doesn’t say anything as he pushes up their shared armrest, reaches over, and grabs Kibum’s belt buckle. Eyes firm on the screen, he nudges Kibum’s abdomen with his knuckles before he carefully unfastens his pants.
Startling, Kibum leans over and hisses, “What are you doing?” He tosses Jonghyun a furtive glance, but Jonghyun’s eyes are riveted on the screen.
Oh God, what a horrible place to get a hand job, Kibum thinks, but he doesn’t move to stop him.
Minho’s long, beautiful fingers slip under his waistband, and Kibum’s biting his lip to stop himself from making some sort of noise. How can he even see what he’s doing, Kibum thinks as he watches Minho’s face instead of the movie.
Face stoic and unchanged, Minho wraps his fingers firmly around Kibum, who is quickly hardening under his touch.
Kibum’s convinced it’s just some huge cosmic joke against him, because they’re sitting in a dark, albeit nearly empty, theater, watching some crappy low budget horror film, and Jonghyun’s sitting right next to him, and he could glance over at any minute and see Minho’s hand down his pants, and oh my God, why was he getting harder.
Kibum shuts his eyes and clenches his hand into a fist on his armrest. Minho spreads his precome over the tip of his erection with his thumb. It’s rough without much lubricant, but Kibum’s half-reveling in the friction, and he’s so desperate to get off he hardly cares.
He watches the screen without absorbing the images, biting his lip to keep himself from sighing in pleasure. He feels so very, very dirty, and the rational, coherent part of his brain is hoping that Jonghyun doesn’t look over and call them out for doing inappropriate things in public places, or Taemin doesn’t reach over Minho for the Whoppers he left in Minho’s right pocket and become scarred for life, or Onew doesn’t get up to go on another bathroom break and pass by them and their tryst, and why can’t he stop thinking!
He turns his face and buries it in Minho’s shoulder because he’s been doing it for the better half of the movie, and surely they’ll think he’s just disgusted by the gore again. Minho’s fingers tighten evilly, and Kibum lets out a small choked noise that’s muffled by the fabric of Minho’s jacket.
“That’s so obviously fake,” Taemin suddenly says in an angry voice, and Kibum stiffens. “It’s like they didn’t even try.” Jonghyun makes a strange noise of agreement.
Minho’s hand doesn’t even pause as he says, “I told you not to raise your expectations.”
Kibum would have sobbed if he could spare the air. Instead, he reaches over and digs his hand into Minho’s thigh beseechingly. Minho tightens his fingers in response, leaning over to press his lips against the shell of Kibum’s ear.
“I wish I could see you right now,” Minho whispers. “I bet your cheeks are flushed the same way they do when you’re angry. Are they?”
Kibum’s pretty sure they are, but he just bites down on Minho’s jacket and pants out his agreement. He’s so close to orgasm he can almost taste it on his tongue. Then again, that could just be the taste of the fabric, but he’s not coherent enough to separate his senses.
It’s only a few moment later that Kibum’s spilling into Minho’s palm messily. His fingers retreat smoothly, and Kibum’s almost offended that Minho didn’t even tuck him back into his pants. Then he looks up and sees Minho cleaning off his hand with his tongue, looking much like the proverbial cat who got the cream, and his mouth goes dry.
Once Minho’s done, he reaches back over and politely tucks him in, patting his cock fondly before carefully zipping up Kibum’s pants. Kibum’s eyes drift back to the screen as he turns his head and rests his cheek on Minho’s shoulder.
The movie is almost over, and the crazed murderer is revealed to be the main character’s long-lost cousin, whose problems could all be traced back to a lack of attention as a child that stunted her emotional development. Kibum rolls his eyes at the cliché before letting them fall shut.
Taemin makes a disgusted noise as the lights turn back on. “That was horrible,” he laments, noisily sipping the last of his soda.
Kibum can hear the grin in Jonghyun’s voice as he replies, “Kibum seemed to enjoy it.”
Taemin chokes on his drink, and Kibum blushes, eyes snapping open to fall on Jonghyun, whose lecherous grin is dripping off his face. He reaches over and punches Jonghyun’s thigh.
“I thought he hated horror,” Onew says off-handedly, his confusion evident.
“Let’s go!” Taemin says loudly, pulling the eldest away before he caught wind of the debauchery that occurred only a few seats away.
Kibum watches their backs retreat with a blank expression.
“Really, though,” Jonghyun says after a moment. “In a theater?”
Kibum punches him again and tries his hardest to ignore Minho’s smug, satisfied expression.