Rating: PG-13 (eventually NC-17. Maybe)
For: Those who asked for more Min7en. :::snookies:::
A short Min7en. Just something to work on while my brain’s doing other things. I'll be continuing this for a bit.
The acrid, sweet steam from the tea cup filled Min’s lungs. Inhaling deeply, he let his eyes drift close, wanting desperately to fall into the moment and leave the world locked out of his thoughts. Cradling the mug in his hands, he curled into the curve of the couch and pulled his knees up, tightening his eyelids until he could almost feel the beat of his blood pulse through them.
He’d left the window open a crack, just enough to smell the rain hammering at the glass pane. Nearly thirty stories above Tokyo’s crowded streets, the dank asphalt and steam odor of the city was washed away by the fresh scent of water. The teacup carnations nearby added to the night air, a delicate sweetness Changmin preferred over other flowers.
The tea scorched the tip of his tongue and Min swallowed hard, trying to ignore the prickly feeling in his mouth. A hollow feeling spread out from his chest, the empty echo of his heartbeat filling his ears. It throbbed, a backbeat to the rain falling outside and Min listened for a moment, straining his ears to hear the city’s pulse around him.
A burbling song tone broke through the hush and Min jumped, nearly dropping his tea. Setting the cup down, he reached for the phone and his thumb slid over the touchpad, hovering over the answer call button. The tone rang again, a familiar number flashing over the screen. Trembling, he rested his forehead on his knee, praying for the strength to answer the call.
“Hello? Baby, are you there?”
He stared at the phone, unwilling to believe he’d thumbed on the call. The achingly familiar voice went straight to his gut, peeling apart his nerves and will. Swallowing, Min drew the phone up to his ear and closed his eyes, letting himself drop into the sensual feel of the man’s voice.
Something deep inside of Min hurt. It dug and ate at him until he was sure the pain would drive him mad. Too much time had passed since he’d felt the other man’s hands on him and his skin itched with the want growing in him. He skimmed his fingers over his own mouth, imaging the feel of Se7en’s mouth on his. He heard a moan, a deep and heartfelt sensual sound and swallowed, shocked that it had come from his own throat.
“I like hearing that, baby,” Se7en purred. “And I really like knowing that I can do that to you just with my voice.”
“How are you?” Min was determined to keep the conversation light. His body ached. A nerve twitched along his belly and the ghostly memory of Se7en’s fingers trailing down the light dusting of hair around his navel made his cock thicken under the cotton drawstring pants he’d put on after his shower.
“Missing you,” The man whispered. His own desire echoed through the phone, touching at the rawness Min nursed in his heart. “God, I miss you.”
The tears struck, unwanted and unbidden. Min blinked, trying to push away the burn along his lids but the heat returned and his lashes grew wet while he listened to Se7en’s uneven breathing.
“I miss you too,” Changmin murmured. They’d fought for the few moments they could spend together over the past six months. An hour here and there only heightened the longing, their fingers trembling when their hands reluctantly pulled apart. Small tokens of love were sent, tidbits of notes hidden between lines of formal text. Their world became wrapped tightly in ribbons of secrets and lies until Changmin was no longer sure if Se7en were real or an imagined lover.
Until he heard the man’s voice and his heart spun up in a frenzy of desire.
“How long are you going to be there?”
Se7en’s voice jerked Min from his day dreaming. Wiping at his face with the back of his hand, Min cleared his throat, hoping the tremour in his voice couldn’t be heard.
“In Japan? Two weeks. I think. Maybe more.” He shivered, finally feeling the cold in air. Shaking, he stood and padded over to the window, cradling the phone against his cheek. Sliding the pane shut, he turned, leaning against the glass and lay his head back, hoping the chill would dampen the heat of his need.
“I need to be with you.” There was too much heat in those words and Min shuddered, unable to stop the longing tugging at him. “I’m coming over.”
He wanted to tell Se7en to stay in Korea. Japan was difficult enough now. Everywhere he turned there were memories haunting him, tearing down the thick wall he’d put up to shore up his nerves. Never one comfortable with crowds, Min hadn’t realized how he’d grown used to the noise of the other members until they were gone. The echoing silence he’d once longed for now suffocated him and he found himself reaching out, hoping to find some sort of connection with anyone around him. Anything to fill the void he floated in.
Instead of begging Se7en to stay put, he heard himself whisper, “Please.”
Sunglasses obscured most of Se7en’s face but he didn’t want to take any chances. He was tired down to his bones but he’d spent most of the flight over too keyed up to sleep. The flats of his palms were slick with the need to touch Min’s skin and he knew the first time his mouth touched Min’s, he would taste tears. He’d heard them in the other man’s voice and it drove him mad with grief knowing he’d put them there.
The driver waiting for him was new and someone Se7en didn’t know but the man was only reassured by the unfamiliar face. His own driver was with Changmin, transporting the slender young man through Tokyo’s busy streets. People within the industry suspected and some — a very trusted few — knew of his involvement with the complicated, serious singer but for once their close-mouthed culture worked to their advantage. There was too much risk in exposing the singers’ relationship. As long as they kept to themselves, Se7en and Changmin had nothing to worry about…nothing to lose in being with one another. If anything, they were encouraged to spend time together. Changmin’s anxious nature appeared to settle down when Se7en was around and the more time they shared, the more relaxed and confident the young singer became.
Se7en seriously doubted anyone wanted to know what it was they did that relaxed Changmin or if someone did, those questions were kept between very tightly closed lips.
The late afternoon light faded as the car took Se7en through Tokyo. His sunglasses came off before the sun dropped below the horizon and by the time night fully fell, he was anxious enough to fidget on the back seat of the town car. The city rose up around them, tall buildings covered with LED billboards flashing rainbows of lights and products over the car’s sleek black paint and smoky windows.
Se7en saw none of it, focused only on the hope of seeing Changmin’s brilliant white smile.
The car barely came to a stop and Se7en was sliding out of back seat. By the time the driver got to the trunk, he was already waiting with a handful of bills for a tip and reaching for the suitcase he’d hastily thrown his clothes in. A brief nod to the doorman and he was through the revolving glass doors. When the elevator dinged to announce his arrival, Se7en’s hands were sweaty and he burst through the automatic doors, taking long strides towards the apartment at the end of the hall.
And came up short at the door, his stomach clenched tight and his nerves wound up tight at the thought of holding his young lover after being apart for a month.
“Deep breath, Dong-Wook.” He schooled himself upright, breathing in slowly. “It’s only been a few weeks. He needs you to be strong. To not worry over him.”
Those thoughts flew out of his mind when the door suddenly opened and Changmin stood in front of him, slender and lean with enormous brown eyes tender from worry and stress.
“Aish, look at your ears. Your hair is so short,” Se7en teased, cupping Min’s face. Running his thumbs over the young man’s lobes, he stroked Min into a deep blush and laughed when the young singer tried to turn away. “Oh no, baby. Let me look at you. God, just let me look at you.”
Changmin was never considered classically handsome. His features were too irregular to be called beautiful, a quality sought after more and more with each crop of idols coming up out of the trainee crèches but there was something oddly entrancing about his face. Mischievous with a dash of rakishness were better terms, especially when his solemn brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and the tilt of his head hinted at the faux-arrogance he’d cultivated to protect his tender heart. Se7en knew without asking that Min hated his short haircut, disdaining the way his ears stuck out from his head much like a sugar glider’s and the wrinkle of his nose didn’t help dispel the description, especially when the tip of Min’s tongue dabbed out to touch his upper lip.
“I’m still goofy looking,” Min murmured, trying to pull away but Se7en held him tightly, weaving his fingers behind the young man’s head and resting his arms on Min’s shoulders.
“No,” He said, leaning in. “You’re perfect.”
Their mouths touched, briefly. It was daring, even dangerous to be seen together, no matter how protected they were. Out in the open, in plain view of the elevator, they kissed. A flirting, vulnerable kiss as their mouths sought to seal the space between them. Changmin’s lips were slightly rough, chapped from the cold winter wind and Se7en pulled him closer, pressing his tongue against the seam of his lover’s mouth.
He teased Min’s mouth open, licking and tasting until he found the sweetness he’d been looking for. They battled briefly, tongues sliding against one another until Min moaned, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations overwhelming him. Se7en’s hands roamed, finding the soft skin on his neck. Changmin tilted his head back, exposing the column of his neck for his lover’s mouth. Se7en trailed a kiss down Min’s cheek, biting at the pulse beneath his jaw, pulling a deep growl from Min’s throat. He gulped, trying to get air into his lungs, hoping to cool the heat consuming him but all he succeeded in doing was catching the scent of his lover’s skin and the spicy clove-scented cologne Se7en wore.
The sound of the elevator door opening sprang them apart. Chests heaving, the men stared into one another’s eyes until Min looked over his shoulder at the empty apartment behind him. An older Japanese woman toddled out of the elevator car, her dark eyes curious as she spied the two young men at the end of the hall. Se7en returned her gaze with a tight, polite bow and picked up the case he’d dropped to the floor.
“It’s good to see you, Min-chan.” Se7en’s voice rose loud enough to be heard down the hall.
“And you. Please, come in,” He murmured, ducking his head to hide the blush in his cheeks. With a final glance down the hall, Changmin whispered. “I’ve missed you, Shichi.”
“I’ve missed you too, Minku,” Se7en whispered, brushing past his lover.
The back of his hand skimmed Min’s stomach, daringly ghosting his fingers over the length of his boyfriend’s sex as he passed. Changmin’s eyes widened briefly and he forced himself not to look at the older woman down the hall. Taking a deep breath, he gently closed the door, shutting the world out behind him.