The Games We Play (The Mistakes We Make) (2/?)
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)
As soon as Taemin had turned into the next hall where Minho couldn't see him any longer, his fierce expression collapsed and he leaned against the wall as a wave of weakness crashed over him. Fuck, what had he gotten himself into?
The sound of footsteps echoing in an empty hallway had him straightening his posture again but then a familiar voice was at his ear, strong arm curling around his shoulder.
"Hey relax. It's me."
"Jonghyun." He acknowledged with a grateful sigh, leaning into the other boy's side.
Of course the rebellious singer had waited for him; Jonghyun just got him like that.
Minho just didn't- couldn't understand and he probably never would (which was precisely why he had to win this bet).
Sure, Jonghyun and him had a spark but you couldn't know someone before you knew someone (Jonghyun remembered them being besties in kindergarten even though Taemin didn't recall) and never feel attracted to them. You also, however, couldn't know someone (or rather they know you before you even knew you) for that long and still want to date.
Taemin and Jonghyun knew each other too well (from the best things to the worst, not to mention the grossest) and were too comfortable, so when puberty had rolled around the inevitable had happened.
"So…how'd it go?" His Hyung asked (though he could have guessed from the expression on the youth's face), looking up at Taemin adorably from where his head rested on the red-head's shoulder. The dancer ran idle fingers through golden locks as he said,
"He won't tell…" He didn't say anything further but Jonghyun already knew, could read him like a book.
"Yet."
"Yet." Taemin confirmed.
"Do you want to stop?" The older boy whispered mischievously (of course he already knew Taemin's answer; this wasn't the first time the question had been posed) nose nudging Taemin's ear.
"Don't be obnoxious." Taemin murmured back turning in Jonghyun's hold so that their lips could meet. And this was their way, their comfort, their communication: their everything. The older they got the harder things had gotten to talk about and to deal with. It had gotten harder to be real but with Jonghyun everything was real. They didn't have to pretend there wasn't a spark but at the same time they didn't have to worry about getting too serious.
Jonghyun nipped softly at his lower lip before they started walking back toward their dorm room, Taemin wondering just how he would explain that he loved Jinwoon but that Jonghyun was indispensible. Not that it really matters. Taemin smirked. As if someone like him has the balls to seduce me.
There was no way in hell Minho was going to win this bet.
The night was spent plotting, the need to win burning through Minho's veins with dangerous potency. There was no way in hell Taemin was going to win this bet. That, Minho knew for certain.
But…
At the same time, a lot was at stake: his and Jinwoon's friendship, his pride, his status as not-a-fucking-fag; all to ruins if he wasn't careful.
Minho turned on his side, sheets pooling around his naked waist as he lay there. There was no use in wasting his whole night worrying. He needed to get some rest, to look his best tomorrow: tempting, seductive, maybe even mysterious so that Taemin would feel an inevitable pull toward him.
But wait, did gays go for that? Or was that only girls? Maybe Minho should try to dress gay too, or was it that guys that dressed like that went after guys that dressed opposite. Opposites attracted right?
Oh Jesus…
Three days later and Minho still hadn't made the first move or anything remotely close to it. They saw each other every day, what with Taemin meeting up with Jinwoon so they could make out in the bleachers, that cunning boy's eyes peaking open just slightly to glance at Minho knowingly (You don't have the balls to touch me) as he slipped his tongue into the quarterback's mouth, lips tugging up into a grin. And then he would ignore Minho for the rest of practice as if that whole bet-thing had never even happened. Bitch.
"You okay, dude?" Said Junho bringing Minho out of his thoughts. Junho was one of his closer friends on the team. He was nice and humble and never joked about tapping ass which was a pleasant change from the other meat-heads. "You've been checking out Jinwoon's boyfriend for like, five minutes straight. I'm surprised Taemin didn't notice."
The hell he didn't…
"I am not checking out anything."
Junho just patted his shoulder and shook his head as if he knew everything, making Minho frown.
"Whatever. Just don't let Jinwoon catch you…you know how he gets."
Minho thought about arguing but opted for grunting instead and as he watched Taemin laugh, Jinwoon lifting him up bridal style and spinning them around like some disgusting, love sick married couple (oh if only he knew); he realized this was going to be harder than he thought.
Today was the day. The day Minho lost the battle (with his pride at least) but took his first step toward winning the war. Today was the day he could "cross the threshold" so to speak, that invisible line becoming no more than, well, invisible.
He made his way into the school cafeteria, heart pounding (which was uncharacteristic unless it was before a big game), and spotted his usual table on the left side of the room (there wasn't a communal space on campus that wasn't divided). His whole team was there except Jinwoon who must have had second lunch or something. They stared at him expectantly, a few waving him over, and he was just about to choose the safe choice (the right choice).
But then he felt cool, icy blue eyes on him, staring at him knowingly from across the room. Gritting his teeth, he gave a crisp nod to his fellow team mates before turning the other way and walking straight across the line. People in the lunch lines paused, hell, even the lunch ladies paused mid-scoop of the crap they called edible. This, much like the first time Taemin had crossed, was unheard of and monumental.
Much to Minho's satisfaction, the earth didn't split open and swallow him but Taemin's jaw did drop a little, contact covered eyes widening slightly as if impressed.
"Hey." He said casually, sliding in right next to the red-head on the long, plastic lunch table bench. Taemin closed his mouth, lips twitching as if he wanted to smile.
"Hey yourself."
There was a pregnant pause and inwardly Minho began to panic because what did one talk about with art pussies? Thankfully he didn't have to think too long before someone even more flamboyant and gay (Minho hadn't thought it possible) than Taemin was striding up to the table with a sneer on his sparkly, heavily eye-linered face.
"Who's this douche?" The boy in tighter pants than the said douche even wanted to think about wearing (how did his balls breathe? Oh wait, they didn't because he had a vagina), asked flipping his black-with-multiple-streaks-of-color hair.
"Play nice, Key." Minho snorted at the name. Who the fuck named their kid Key? "He's not a douche; he's my friend." Taemin's slim fingers curled around the football player's shoulder, the tips of those fingers brushing against the sensitive nape of Minho's neck as his arm coiled around the taller boy's wide frame.
Key rolled his cat-like eyes but sat down anyway and with the way the lights were glinting off all that sparkly crap on his face, Minho couldn't help but think he was well, sort of pretty; pretty for a guy anyway.
"More like another jock you're fucking. You're little boy toy know about this?" Key sent Taemin a look that was a mix of disapproval and admiration all at the same time and Minho wasn't sure who way the boy toy: Jonghyun or Jinwoon.
Taemin glared a little. "We're friends, Key."
The other boy opened his mouth the retort when yet another voice interrupted them, tray of cafeteria food landing on the table with a small thunk as the blond boy from a few days ago seated himself next to Key.
"Woah. No need to start a bitch fight…" he trailed off, eyes widening as he stared at Minho who was sitting directly across from him. His baffled expression only lasted for a moment before he was smirking a little, eyes flickering over to Taemin.
"Well, look who decided to join us."
Key looked between Minho and Jonghyun.
"You two know each other?"
Jonghyun shrugged and took a bite of some mysterious looking casserole.
"Something like that."
Taemin retracted his arm so that he could begin eating his own lunch and Key (deciding that at least one of them had to be polite) extended his hand out toward Minho.
"I'm Kim Kibum, also known as Key, obviously."
Minho stared at the outstretched hand. Was that nail polish?
"Choi Minho." He replied, taking Key's hand and giving it a small shake. When the other boy let go he wiped his hand daintily with a napkin as if the jock's hand had been covered with disease.
"So, Choi Minho, how do you like our Taemin? He's flexible right? Tight little-"
Taemin nearly spit out his chicken soup.
"What part of friends don't you understand, Hyung?" He cried out indignantly, choking a little. Jonghyun and Minho both leaned in to pat his back, their hands nearly brushing before they both recoiled with disgust, eyes meeting. They looked away awkwardly.
Key watched the whole thing with an amused smirk.
"You are one lucky boy, Lee Taemin." He muttered with a chuckle and shake of his head, taking a bite of his Chinese chicken salad (hold the dressing; Key was on a diet after all).
"I'm surprised you had the balls to sit with us the whole lunch." Taemin commented as Minho walked him to his locker, something that didn't go unnoticed by the people they passed in the halls who were whispering to each other furiously.
"Weak in the knees for me yet?" Minho was grinning as Taemin dialed in the code and opened up his locker. He didn't reply so the tall boy leaned in close to the dancer's pretty face.
"Is that a yes…?" His eyes flicked down to look at Taemin's full, soft lips and in that moment he realized he actually wouldn't mind kissing them. The younger boy locked his electric blue gaze with Minho's dark, compelling eyes for a moment before leaning in. The football player closed his eyes in anticipation, wondering how it would feel to cross into fag-land before Taemin's voice was next to his ear.
"You can go now."
And then the bitch was pulling back and slamming the locker in his face before strutting away to class.