The Games We Play (The Mistakes We Make) (4/?)
Title: The Games We Play (The Mistakes We Make)
By: Onyx L.S.
Rating: PG-13 (so far)
Pairing: 2Min, JongTae, Jinwoon/Taemin
Summary: In his mind he knew he was falling right into the trap the delicate looking boy had set for him but that wasn't important. Whether or not he had been spun into Taemin's little web of secrets didn't matter. What mattered was beating him at his own game.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
WARNING: If you easily get offended by crude and offensive language/phrasing do not read this. (I can't control the way my character's talk/act okay? xD)
Minho shouldered his way through the crowd that still had yet to disperse, too busy gossiping and texting the news to everyone else on campus that the 'famous couple' were over; that Taemin's ass was back on the market. He edged his way along a mass of dancing students that ran all along the pool deck and bleachers, tip toeing to see over the crowd and try and keep track of the red dot he could just barely make out darting through the sea of people. It wasn't long before he was a ways off from the pool, behind the performing arts center, the sounds of fun and recklessness dwindling into a low hum. His footsteps echoed on the concrete as he took another sip of his beer and glanced around. Taemin was nowhere to be seen, which, if Minho thought about it, made no sense since the only way to go from here was over into the football field or back into the party, neither of which he thought the redhead would do.
He continued to stand there, just drinking his alcohol idly, enjoying the way a buzz rushed through his system and heated him despite the cold night air surrounding his lanky body. Minho was just about to give up his search for the boy, thinking that maybe he had been crazy enough to walk the distance of the football field and circle back around the perimeter of the school just to get to his dorm, when suddenly his eyes spotted a little shack, nearly invisible in the darkness.
Smirking in triumph, he walked toward the thing, fumbling to find the door handle in the dark, his mildly drunken state making his fingers slow and awkward. When he finally managed to yank the rusted doors open, he squinted into the dim light inside, ducking into the little room stuffed with all sorts of abandoned items as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light. Taemin was there, tucked into the corner of the room against a shelf littered with broken or useless junk, knees pressed to his chest and face buried in his arms. He was shaking slightly, little sniffling noises coming from him before his head shot up, expression surprised at the sound of Minho closing the old, creaky doors.
"Jonghy-?" Taemin bit his lower lip to stop himself, tears slipping down his cheeks as he blinked in confusion at the tall figure that was ducking his head low. Minho slid down against a couple of piled up boogie boards, shifting to get comfortable because the shack was so compact with stuff (not to mention tiny to begin with) that he barely fit, having to stretch his long legs on either side of Taemin's curled up form.
"Wrong." He said, voice resonating in the empty silence hanging between them. Taemin lifted his arm to swipe at his tear-streaked, ruined-makeup-ed face before scowling in Minho's general direction.
"What?" He barked sarcastically, suddenly confident and composed, eyes icy as if nothing in this world could possibly touch someone like him; like his heart was unbreakable. "You have a fetish for watching people cry or something?"
Minho smiled sweetly before saying back, just as sarcastic. "Only when they're your tears, baby."
Sneering, Taemin bent his head so that his chin could rest on the tops of his knees, shaggy red hair falling into his eyes.
"Get lost." The words were a weak mumble and Minho took a moment to stare at the boy; dark mascara made inky tracks down Taemin's pale cheeks, the youth's nose slightly red from crying, blue eyes still watery. Despite the plan (to kick Taemin while he was down per say), Minho wanted to ignore all the subtle signs of Taemin's broken heartedness - the way his eyes stayed stubbornly fixated on the floor or how his hands were locked around his legs, fingers squeezing and lacing repeatedly as if he was trying to keep himself together- because he wanted to believe that Taemin wasn't hurt. Minho wanted to continue on his merry way thinking that the fiery redhead could barely pass for human, that he was just a cold, selfish bitch that didn't make the football player's heart squeeze when his lower lip trembled. Sighing, he knocked his head back against the boogie boards, chocolate brown eyes taking in the sight of Taemin squinting, trying to hold back the clear tears threatening to spill over the edge of his eyes while teeth digging into his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Are you okay?"
Taemin's eyes lifted from the floor, glancing up shyly to meet Minho's before they darted back down to the ground.
"No." His voice cracked on the word and Minho fought the steadily rising urge to pull Taemin into his arms and run soothing fingers through his hair. He'd always been a sucker for damsels in distress (but, he reminded himself, Taemin was sure as hell no damsel). Mentally stabbing someone (because really the plan was to go in there, get close to the other -who would be needy for affection in such times- and quickly win the bet with flying colors; not to stay there and genuinely comfort the boy), Minho held out his cup of beer, nudging it against Taemin's knee.
"Here."
Taemin hesitated, eyeing the other boy suspiciously before taking the offered plastic and putting it to his lips. He sipped some, muttering a 'this better not be drugged 'cause that doesn't count bet-wise', before downing the whole thing, preferring to be wasted rather than depressed.
"Better?" Minho continued awkwardly, clearing his throat. He was trying and that in itself made him uncomfortable; but Taemin managed a shaky, grateful smile, unlocking his arms from around his legs before relaxing against the shelf behind him, and suddenly the older boy felt like maybe his efforts were worth it.
"A little...thanks."
Seconds ticked by while they sat in silence, Minho counting the stains on the ceiling to distract himself from the way Taemin's fingers were toying with the laces of his boots.
"Why did you come here?" Taemin asked abruptly, eyes drifting up from the floor to lock with Minho's, who quickly glanced to the side.
"I just happened to stumble upon-"
"Bullshit." Taemin was smirking at him, the look further dramatized by his wrecked makeup and practically glowing azure orbs. Minho mentally groaned, regretting giving him the beer; the alcohol no doubt gave him a kick of energy and confidence if the way Taemin was staring him down was any indicator.
"You were looking for me."
Minho said nothing for a moment before forcing his eyes to meet Taemin's, jaw clenching as he said,
"You wish."
Taemin merely rolled his eyes and continued on, that same cocky smile spreading over full lips.
"You know what I think?"
"What?" Minho replied without amusement.
"I think...you want to kiss me."
The older boy scoffed but his cheeks flushed noticeably and God, he hoped he could blame that on the liquor. Taemin put a finger to his own chin and tilted his head to the side cutely, looking far more entertained than he ought to be as he contemplated what he'd just said before adding boldly,
"And I think I want to kiss you too."
Minho looked down, breaking their gazes but from the corner of his eyes he saw Taemin sit up and get onto his hands and knees, crawling forward in between Minho's open legs. The football player's heart stuttered violently as Taemin lifted the elder's chin with a slim finger, grinning at him in this dazed tipsy way while their breath mingled.
"You're drunk." He murmured, eyes sliding down to focus on that pink mouth only inches from his.
"Isn't that the best part?" Taemin breathed back, leaning in so that their foreheads touched, the redhead staring down into Minho's dark eyes. "We can just blame it on the alcohol."
-
"Key seriously? Are you really going to be like this to me, of all people?" Jonghyun asked with a pathetic pout on his lips as he trailed after the said boy. Key rolled his eyes and turned around, hands planted on his hips as he gave the blond his best bitch sneer.
"Of all people? Stop flattering yourself, Jonghyun. And you're smashed." He pointed out before his eyes caught on someone in the distance, someone looking completely out of place but -a feral smile slid onto Kibum's lips as he gave the awkward boy a once over- oh so promising.
"Tipsy. And only a tiny, iddle, widdle, baby bit?" Jonghyun whined childishly, putting a small space in between his pointer finger and thumb before holding it up to show Key the amount. The diva merely slapped his hand away before setting a palm flat on Jonghyun's chest and shoving him away.
"Let's talk later, dear. I'm busy."
Putting on his best flirtatious smirk, he began to strut straight toward his target, ignoring Jonghyun's cries of 'but honey~!'.
"Hey," Key purred, stopping in front of the stranger. The latter smiled back nervously, clearing his throat as Kibum gave him a more than obvious once over. He was tall and broad with milky white skin and deliciously large biceps, revealed by the sleeveless black shirt he wore. His pants were bright yellow, clinging to surprisingly supple thighs before continuing down his legs and disappearing into black, sleek boots. The boy's hair wasn't long or short, a warm brown the curled around the nape of his neck, bangs pulled back and pinned (giving him this adorable little puff at the front of his head) to reveal small, smiling eyes and a toothy grin.
"You look a little lost," Key placed a hand on the man's forearm, batting his eyelashes as he stared up at him. The dark haired boy curled his fingers around that strong limb and knew in that instant that he was hopelessly attracted to this guy. He wasn't drop dead gorgeous, leaning more toward charmingly cute, but something about him was just so...so...classy. Key needed more of that in his life. "I'm Kibum by the way, but you can call me Key."
"Oh uh, nice to meet you. I'm Jinki."
Kibum leaned a little closer at that, pressing into the other boy's side.
"That's a nice name." He murmured and Jinki swallowed hard, trying to tug himself out of the others vice like grip.
"Thanks, but actually I was trying to find my friend-"
"Oh really?" Key widened his eyes innocently. "What a coincidence. Me too. How about we search together?"
Jinki eyed the sparkly boy wearily before deciding that just giving it and going with it was the best course of action. He nodded, beginning to take a step forward (dragging Kibum who was clinging like him to a leech along) when he spotted someone short and blond waving to them.
"Isn't that your friend?" The taller mentioned, quirking an eyebrow at Kibum who simply shrugged in response, turning around and beginning to tug Jinki in the opposite direction, flashing the male a pretty smile from over his shoulder.
"Never seen him before in my life."
-
Minho felt like he was going fucking insane. Taemin was all up on him, fingers twisted into his long, wavy brown hair, thighs straddling one of his thighs, moans vibrating against his lips. The redhead was, as much as he hated to admit it, an amazing kisser with an equally amazing tongue and just the thought of that slick, pink muscle and its (no doubt) many, many talents made Minho feel so sinful because shit, he was getting hard from this.
"Stop..." he murmured against Taemin's full, soft mouth. It was as sweet and plush as Minho had imagined and his hand held tighter to one of Taemin's narrow hips even while he spoke, dragging the boy farther up his leg and drawing a hushed gasp from the youth because God, the way his cock was dragging against Minho's toned thigh only urged him to press closer. Taemin pulled back for a moment to suck in much needed air, his eyes heavily lidded, a finger sliding down to the nape of the football player's neck so his nail could graze against the sensitive skin there, Taemin smirking as Minho shuddered in response.
"Now," He purred, breath ghosting along Minho's neck as he nuzzled the spot behind the boy's ear with his nose, lips rubbing against the other's sensitive ear . "You and I both know you don't really want that, do you?"
One of Taemin's hands trailed down along Minho's chest, nails scraping teasingly at his skin through the fabric of his shirt, before grabbing at the hand the older boy had secured around him, dragging it forward along his body until it was pressed flat against his stomach. Those sinful fingers silently urged Minho's to follow as they dragged up along his smooth skin, taking his shirt up as well. The older boy swallowed hard as he felt Taemin's stomach muscles clench under his touch, the tempting skin in front of him smooth and flawless and just too fucking soft for a boy.
"Come on, Minho." Taemin whispered sensually, leaning back and beginning to tug off his mesh over-shirt and tight blue tank while Minho merely stared, transfixed and trying to control his breathing which sounded embarrassingly loud in the small shack. The minx's lips spread into a tauntingly sexy smile. "Fuck me. I want you to."
And this was exactly what Minho had come for; he'd been right to assume that Taemin used sex as an escape, but suddenly taking advantage of the broken boy didn't seem all that attractive. No matter how bad he wanted to win this bet (or how hard he was), he knew he wouldn't really be getting anything if he took it like this. Clenching his jaw and trying to ignore the way his hands were just itching to run up along that naked, slender torso, Minho put his hands on Taemin's shoulders to stop him as he leaned in for another kiss. He shook his head.
"You don't want this." He stated. Taemin glared at him, mouth setting into a hard line as rejections washed over him.
"I think I know what I want, Minho, so just-"
Taemin tilted his head to the side, pressing in against the resistance but Minho just met the boy's eyes, something sad lying beneath the stern surface of his own.
"The thing is, Taemin," he said softly, pushing him away. "you really don't."
The redhead blinked at the other boy, a storm of emotions welling up inside him. He'd never, never, been so humiliated in his life. No one fucking rejected Taemin Lee, and he did not need some haughty jock looking down on him, looking...-Taemin stared back into Minho's deep gaze, unable to look away from the rich brown swimming in those eyes- so, so kind. Emotion rose into his throat abruptly, making Taemin feel like he was suffocating there, making him feel out of control and like he couldn't even breathe.
"Don't pity me!" The younger said, voice cracking as he snatched his blue tank top up from the floor and slid it on, stumbling to his feet before heading toward the exit even though the room was sort of spinning, his vision sliding in and out of focus.
"I-I need some air." Taemin managed to choke as he pushed his way out the doors, ignoring the concerned gaze he could feel burning his back until he finally staggered out into the crisp night air.
Minho sat there for some time, head in his hands, wondering what the fuck he'd just done (because stupid, stupid - he could have won the bet) and why the fuck his chest felt constricted at the image of Taemin's panicked expression that just wouldn't seem to leave him (or his heart) alone.