Taemin wanted so much just to have Minho’s cock in his mouth. He wanted to wrap his puckered redden lips all over the elder man’s bruising red tip, to feel it choking his throat, to feel the hot and heavy pressure as the boy would try to deep suck him. Then Minho’s calloused fingers would tangle themselves within his boyish brown locks, forcing him down to go even over his limits. Taemin would look eye up then, with those big dark chocolate eyes brimming with tears. He would watch how Minho’s face shredded a fine thin of sweat , that slowly moved from his upper lip downward to his chin as his hyung, as his lover, would pant with pleasure. 

she felt the distance get to her, slowing succumbing to madness. her tears kept pouring and pooling at her feet. the whole house was flooded and no children where playing. the ink slowing dripped off the page and her tears kept pouring. this paper could not be true so she sighed and cried and off she went to watch her children playing. she felt the distance get to her, she could not handle the truth.

Please hold me gently and don’t leave me until I fall into a deep deep sleep. When you feel no heartbeat, please let my body go and leave to some distant beautiful place. Okay?

the boys are playing hide and seek again, and you look on with a strange envy. if only you were five and wide eyed like them would it be okay. but your not. you are seven years old and you are too big for nursery games (so says your mother and father). so you stand by the grand oak tree, cladded in those baggy blue overalls and bare, balmy feet easing into the ground where mother earth’s soft wet soil makes you feel somewhat at home. then you hear, your name so where off in the distance, possible over that hill where they all play their games. you turn, but see no one and you can’t help but frown. “philip! philip!philip!” this time, you turn and its someone you don’t really expect at all, but deep inside your happy (but it doesn’t last long because you know its wrong). before you know it, that little five year old boy is leaping towards you with wide stretched arms around your neck, planting a hard surprising kiss on your chapped lips. you stand there (holding that small boy) quite bewildered and perplexed before that little five year old boy pulls away and comments how rough your lips taste. his baby blue eyes is beaming right at you, and you can’t really put your finger on it but losing your first kiss to him wasn’t a bad choice at all.

omgawd, pls don’t hate me. this is probable really bad and i know it is cause it must seem really confusing and weird but trust me when i say that i wanted it that way. none of this is in chronological order so yeah ;3; i hope you like it.  

“Hey, Minho” Taemin answers the phone with informality sliding off his tongue and Minho could just feel the boy’s smirk from the other side of the phone.

“Where are you, Taemin-ah?” It has been possible six hours since his disappearance and Minho doesn’t want to admit it, but he needs to see him. That cocky-ass smile, those dark cunning eyes, and that long honey brown hair (how Minho’s fingers wish to thread themselves within it).

“Somewhere. Anywhere. Far away from where you are that’s for sure.” Taemin says with a chuckle and that makes the latter very annoyed – his blood feels like boiling at Taemin’s Cheshire like responds.

“Come and find me, hyung.”

And Minho swore he could hear the ocean waves drifting in the background.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Minho hangs up after that, and runs to catch the closest bus stop.

Their first meeting is rather unconventional, a little spontaneous, and very weird something Minho would never forget in his eighteen years of life.

It is ten o’clock and Minho was just about to succumb to sleep, when there was a rapid knock on his window. He fumbles, curses and stirs up right without even consciously thinking who could this be because all on his mind is that he wants to go back to sleep. Now.

“Hey, I’m Taemin. I’ll be your new brother from now on.” Minho is giving his new brother a perplexed stare because there he is in his room dressed very fashionable, hair well groomed and a hand extended like coming up from a two story house was normal. He isn’t quite sure either if he wants shakes Taemin’s hand, but he does so anyway. “Mom didn’t say you’d be here early.” Minho says bluntly.

Taemin smirks and sits in Minho’s rickety old computer chair, curving his legs beneath him. He takes a glance here and there, pondering at the Minho’s room.  “How can stand it in here? It’s so boring…”

Minho took offense to that and doesn’t bother to answer. He liked his clean floors, white bare walls, and neat desk which had been organized quite thoroughly. All the pens, markers, papers were set and contained in perfect order for a much easy access as well for his textbooks which were in alphabetical order above in his shelves. Minho never took a second thought about it and when Onew commented about how particularly anal he was, Minho didn’t really deny it. He liked things in order, made Minho happier this way.

 “I’m used to it.”  He claims and sits on his bed, toying with a loose thread of his comforter.

Taemin stares at him blankly before letting out a heavy sigh and standing up from his place.

Minho gives Taemin a perplex stare as the boy kneels down eye level to him. His brother smells like fruit, strawberries and something vaguely like scorched wood. The scent is stronger now and Minho can whiff the boy’s minty breath.

“Hey, sneak out with me tonight.”

Taemin is unprofessional at smoking and Minho can tell because when the boy exhales, it is rather forced and rushed. “Does Dad know about this?” Minho blurts out, coughing as his hand tries to unsuccessful wave it away. The latter grins at this and takes other drag before answering Minho with other question back.

 “Does it matter?” he says so nonchalantly and in that canny flare of his, it makes Minho frustrated because he isn’t used to someone so attractive and snarky at the same time.

Minho feels a weight upon his shoulder and he suddenly sees a messy chestnut brown top fallen beside him.

“I’m cold, hyung.” He sighs and he has no choice but to pull the skinny boy closer, rubbing the boy’s shoulder with his empty hand in an attempt to warm the boy up.

Its 3am at night and Taemin squeezes himself within Minho’s tiny bed. It doesn’t take long for Minho to notice, but he doesn’t bother acting surprised. Instead he scopes the tinier boy closer and plants tiny kisses on his neck let trail to the boy’s ear. Minho’s breathe tickles and Taemin has to suppress a giggle, turning within his lover’s arms. “Hi, there” Minho manages to say, voice sounding deep and tired.

Taemin marks Minho’s lips and doesn’t find it in himself to stop. Mixed limbs and tangled moans, they continue to go deeper and more crazed, and until soon Minho is on top of Taemin staring at him wide eyed. The younger boy moves thin fingers to cup the other’s cheek and he smiles weakly. “I missed you.”

Minho is home on a Friday night, studying when there is an abrupt rapping at the window pane.  It takes a while for Minho to actually get up and open the window again, because this feels all too familiar.

“Do you have any friends, Minho?” Taemin asks, taking up that rickety old computer chair again.

“I do”, Minho answers, arms crossed. “But I have a test on Monday so I need to study.”

“You have Saturday and Sunday to study.”

“I have practice on Saturday and Sunday I’m busy because you guys are coming in with the truck.” Minho eyes don’t advert away from Taemin’s face and he notices how very skinny and soft looking he is now, unlike many boys he knows.

“Either, way you should hang out with me and my friends! It’s really fun and I think you’ll get along with Onew and Jonghyun hyung.” Minho fails to catch how near the younger boy is, but he is so close again that he can smell that smoke and fruity scent again.

“Do you use girl’s shampoo or something?” Minho asks before taking his navy jacket and looking at Taemin who is sitting comfortably on the railing of his window.

“No. Why?” Taemin says through a smile and curious wide eyes.

Something in Minho jumps.

“No reason.”

“I’ve known Taemin for a long time and all I can say is that he is pretty cool kid. Just be careful, okay? He…what can I say, fragile in a way. But don’t tell him I told you that. He seems to like you a lot. So make him happy, alright?” Onew smells of booze and sounds very drunk, both of the weed and drinks.

Minho doesn’t bother to correct Onew when he assumes Taemin and Minho are something, because he is watching Taemin dance and something clicks in him. Maybe it’s the alcohol taking over but Minho doesn’t really care, but all he can think is how awesome Taemin looks.

Taemin is with Minho tangled in the covers, tracing an imaginary line over Minho’s arm. Its dark and the only light in the room is the moon’s dim light sinking in softly.

“Hey, hyung” Taemin interrupts, “I’m yours, right? And your mine?”

This surprises Minho who looks down at the boy with half lidded eyes, he wonders what kind of worldly imagination Taemin has to ask such a question but he looks deeper into Taemin’s eyes and can sense he is worn. Minho just wants to erase the plague that has troubled his love so much but settles with a simple word.

“Forever.”  Minho laces his fingers with the latter, pulling him close to his heart. It feels so tight and warm and Taemin isn’t sure if this is real or a dream but he decides to stay where he is and not think about anything else because happiness can’t possible get any better than this.

“Alex, Alex, Alex,” his name travels through the halls bouncing off the walls so fast there couldn’t possibly be a way to not ignore it. Even if he shut his ears and made a shortcut to his sixth period class through the grassy courtyard, he couldn’t ignore it. The rumors and the looks his peers give. He marches to class with a sharp head held high and back straight. Alex opens the door and the first person he sees is not something he expected but should have kept in close mind. The varicolored of his hair: the blonde, the chestnut, and tawny streaks all piled messily but all so neatly on his head. He has a new cuts and bruises on his face, a fading birthmark on his right cheek and a scar right below his right eye. This world may be calling him names and cursing Alex behind his back, but all Alex sees is him and that hurts more than he could ever ask for. Is this love Alex questions himself or pity for causing his equal so much harm? Alex is tired and already battered from a day worth of abuse, but what makes him want to cry out finally is a single gesture of kindness the wounded boy presents to him. A chair to sit next to him by and Alex understands that he is not alone.

“Anton?” Alex choked. He hadn’t the time to even breathe or think as he was pushed to the wall, the glass cup falling to tiny pieces on the ground and the confused boy couldn’t even gasp or try to reason with his possessive lover. Alex could feel was the ridding of all clothing, jacket to shirt and the shoes and anything else that was interfering with Anton. 

Minho gestured for Taemin to come closer. The younger boy climbed into his lap, wrapping protective skinny arms around the latter’s neck. His face nestled gently upon Minho’s chest, Minho’s chin resting on Taemin’s head as his long fingers laced themselves within the locks. Taemin would have made a peep, a comment of some sorts. But instead he kept silent. Listening. Listening to the beat. The beat of their hearts. Not, just one heart beat but both. 

Tears roll out of Taemin’s eyes and Minho snaps. He grips tightly around the boy’s wrists and throws him aside, the latter losing balance falling onto the ground. Taemin whimpers but he gets up and clings hopelessly on Minho. His hands crawling forth around Minho’s waist, his face buried within the male’s blazer. Taemin is saying something, saying anything to make the latter stay but it’s incoherent. Large calloused warm palms try to pry the other off, but Taemin’s fingernails only dig deeper, clinging onto Minho’s blazer not wanting to let go. Minho takes a deep breath, puts one balmy hand on top of the latter’s smaller hand and forces slowly each finger apart from his blazer. Each minute he stays longer, Minho knows it’ll be harder to go, so he snaps again. Roughly removing the boy from himself, pushing Taemin onto the cold, unforgiving floor. Minho makes way to the door quickly, each step feeling harder to stay stoic when his lover is screaming from the floor. Not even when the door slams locked behind him does it quench the unnerving guilt. The chauffeur is out by the black vehicle like Minho had left him an hour ago. He blows other one of his Marlboro lights, detached from his surroundings as he peers at the blackness. The driver hears the heavy gravel treading coming closer to him, so he looks forward to Minho. There is no exchange of words just a single glance and the driver knows its time. He opens the car door for his boss and Minho’s pretty sure if not certain, he saw a small frown upon the silent driver’s cold face. Minho dismisses it though, and commands to go back to his work place. The chauffer obeys without any hesitation and the drive is painfully slow with the city traffic. Minho closes his eyes trying to ease the lack of sleep he hasn’t been receiving. It haunts him though. Haunting his every being, the haunting struggle grips the brutal man’s heart and Minho wonders if he made the right choice.