wedspawn ♥ (wedspawn) wrote,
wedspawn ♥

Damp Affections: Min7en

Title: Damp Affections
Requested by: dongbang_sarang
Pairing: Min7en
Rating: PGish
Prompt: Min7en =^.^=
smth cute and rated LOL you know... sort of a fluffy smut.. but maybe a little bit more fluffy than smutty ROFL XD
i like it when uke is all innocent and flustered all the time

Note: this is a meandering silliness of a piece. just... a contemplative sunday afternoon/morning of writing. something to wind about the afternoon.

The river smelled. There was no other word for it, Changmin thought. The water was a roiling curl of darkness winding through Tokyo, fouled by the rain pouring from the sky. The storm carried the stink of the city into the flowing river and the overflow from sewage drains leaked thin slicks of oil and refuge, turning the churning waters into a complicated dull rainbow.

Tokyo shivered, pelted by a freezing rain that was a breath under snow. Frost threatened the yellowish foam with a bracing chill, promising to harden the froth into floating ice. Night fell more than three hours before but Tokyo was unwilling to slumber. Skyscrapers grew along the river’s banks, glassine-reflective buildings bleached nearly white from interior lights. The night’s pitch recoiled from the illuminative onslaught, fleeing up beyond the cloud cover, hiding behind the heavy, rain-swollen canopy.

And still, there was no place Min would rather have been in that moment.

The storm dropped in seconds, shattering the night with streaks of furious light, forking down and striking at the tall buildings that dared to encroach their territory. Off in the distance, Tokyo Tower draped itself with a misty shroud, its lights dimmed by the lacy cloud cover. When the first few drops fell, the water stung, a liquid bee swarm hounding them down the pair across the walkway in search of shelter.

The front hit hard, an unexpected weight of water that slapped them down with furious blows. Se7en threw his jacket over Changmin’s head, urging the slender young man with the hard press of his hand on the small of Min’s back. Se7en’s laughter chased Min’s ungainly tromp through soaked through grass, their worn sneakers sliding their feet out from under them

They huddled under one of the many bridges Tokyo built for foot traffic, squat concrete spans with the bulky grace of a thick-bodied woman. Shivering under Se7en’s coat, Changmin tucked up against his lover’s thicker body, leeching the older man’s warmth by shoving his cold hands under Se7en’s sweater.

“Aaahhh!” Se7en jerked back, his stomach clenching from the cold. “You’re like ice. Give me your hands. I can warm them another way.”

“Won’t that make it shrink?” Changmin’s uneven eyes twinkled mischievously. The older singer clucked his tongue at Min, clasping his lover’s fingers in his hands and began to rub. The friction send a delicious warmth through Changmin’s body and he leaned into the sensual heat of Se7en’s touch. “That’s… nice.”

“Nice?” Se7en’s head came up, his full mouth pursed thoughtfully at Min’s choice of words. “I don’t think I like being… nice, Minku.”

“Nice is good,” Changmin said, switching his warm hand for the other. “Nice is something that you can hold and cuddle.”

“I don’t want to be held and cuddled,” He responded, pulling Changmin close.

The bridge’s overhang hid them from view, the sparse warning lights blinking on the underbelly of the span glowing like candles lit for a romantic evening. Sitting on the cement step between two bridge supports, Se7en held Min’s chin, turning the young man’s face as he settled Changmin into the cup of his lap. Min’s long legs draped over Se7en’s thighs, gangly stretches of bone and muscle that he secretly loathed.

“I want to be… the name you whisper in the back of your mouth when my lips are on you, sucking and biting through your resistance. When you’re stubborn and tell me that I can’t take a taste of you in the back of the car,” Se7en’s fingers slid under Min’s shirt, stroking at the singer’s belly button. Rimming the dip with his index finger, Se7en smiled in smug satisfaction when the teasing alertness in his lover’s eyes dimmed, replaced with a smoldering desire.

“I like knowing where to touch you. I like having your fingernails dig into my shoulders when I’m inside of you,” Se7en claimed Min’s mouth, a soft brush of gentle affection that teased a smile out of the singer.

Changmin tasted of miso and noodles, remnants of the ramen they bought off a street vendor. In Japan, they could escape into the streets, hidden from fame and plunging themselves into a false sense of normalcy. Too conservative to hold hands, they bumped shoulders, laughing when one or the other snuck a grope amid the press of a crowd. They’d broken away from the stream of people when Se7en’s hand mistakenly found the wobbly rear of a businessman instead of his trim lover and the man’s look of surprised shock was enough to throw them into the giggles, exposing themselves to the man’s anger.

“If we keep this up, we’ll be arrested,” Min warned. “And then how will it look?”

“I think I’ll look fine,” Se7en teased. “Who would blame me for molesting you under a bridge? People would pay for the privilege to hear me talk about it.”

The rain stopped as quickly as it started, leaving the night sky clean. Clouds drifted off, dousing other parts of the city with its fury. Pressing his hand to the small of Min’s back, Se7en walked besides his lover, strolling slowly along the damp avenue. A few blocks away, a large drum set into a steady beat, calling for shoppers and revelers to come to the community fair, the neighbourhood’s streets blocked off from traffic and lined with tents and temporary stalls.

They were quiet as they walked, a silence that dripped with promise and unsaid angers. So much had been left unspoken between them after Changmin came back into Se7en’s life, the chasm between them slowly filled with tiny drops of affection until a river flowed gently between them.

“Did you enjoy your trip?” Changmin winced when he heard himself.

His inner voice snorted, disgusted at the question. Of course he didn’t enjoy the trip, it was work. Work is small bits of fun mingled in with tired.

Tae was there, Min responded to the back of his mind, so he probably had fun. Shut up now.

“It was okay,” Se7en admitted, stopping at one of the bazaar stalls along the course way. He selected a CD from the inventory, holding it up for Min to see. “You’d like this. She’s good.”

“Nikka Costa?” Taking the pink and white CD from Se7en, Changmin’s fingers brushed against the older man’s and a surge of want sparked lighting across his chest and down his legs.

Tokyo stilled around him, the noises of the street fair fading into the distance until all Min could hear was the pound-pound-pound of his heart, its frenetic pace jumping when Se7en’s smile touched the other’s dark honey eyes. Strung lights hung from posts, becoming stars against the light-bleached night, forming celestial rainbows around Changmin’s newly-discovered lover. Se7en’s wide mouth begged him for a kiss, its sensual pout drawing Min in. The younger singer’s fingers were moving before he realized it, tracing the plump flesh curving into a gentle smile on Se7en’s face.

“Look at me like that for long,” His whisper went dark with promise, a dangerous fire in Se7en’s husky voice. “And I won’t care that we’re out in public. That table over there looks like it could hold both of us.”

The world hiccupped, stuttering to a start around Changmin. With the touch of Se7en’s lips on his finger, Min absently licked at the spot, a hint of the other’s tongue exploding in his mouth. Closing his eyes, Se7en moaned softly and turned away, puffing his cheeks out, exhaling hard.

See? Now you’ve pissed him off, Whispered a malevolent something in the base of his brain. It’s a wonder he even comes near you.

“You shut up too,” Min scolded. He knew that voice. That was the particularly hateful part of him that insisted he was nothing… that he didn’t deserve to stand besides the other members and receive accolades. It often whispered to him at the end of their concerts, reminding him that his part was smaller… that he wasn’t as popular… that the screams from the audience never held his name. He was the untouchable in the group… the extra bit that flapped around, something easily excised and no one would be the wiser… or even care.

Yes, he heard that voice more frequently than he breathed sometimes.

Changmin paid for the CD, thrusting a pile of yen notes into the woman’s hand and waved off the change. He’d just gotten used to handling the larger bills. What he left behind would buy the woman a cup of hot tea and perhaps a small bit of sweet to fight off the night cold when it settled in after the crowds left. He could afford gifting the woman some comfort.

A few short strides caught him up with Se7en. The older singer had a small pile of DVDs stacked on the table he’d offered to spread Changmin over, the titles a mix of English and Japanese. Smiling when Min reached his side, Se7en glanced at the plastic bag in Min’s hand and winced apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I should have gotten that for you,” He huffed at himself and rubbed at the back of his head, nearly dislodging the beanie he’d pulled over his long hair.

“No, it’s okay,” Min shoved the CD into the inside pocket of his jacket. “It looks interesting. Is she good?”

“Very vibrant voice, rough and bluesy.” Se7en nodded, adding another film to the pile. “I really like her. I wish I could sing like that. She sounds like she’s been through rough times and still is strong enough to find joy. There’s something… powerful about someone like that.”

“Ah, something to aspire to,” Min agreed.

“Not you, Minku,” The older man bent over to whisper in his ear, playfully nipping at the young singer’s earlobe. “You shouldn’t have any hard times in your life. I like you being sweetly innocent and delectably erotic. That’s possibly the sexiest thing about you.”

If Min’s inner gremlin could be smugly silent, it was that way now… triumphantly quiet as it puffed up with pride. Changmin felt a shy rush fill his cheeks at Se7en’s words, and the silence in his mind was deafening… all thought lost under the bite of Se7en’s teeth on his flesh.

“You shouldn’t,” Changmin murmured, stepping away. Se7en’s teeth remained fastened on him and he pulled, grinning at the pressed bite. He fingered the dimples left by the other man’s chewing, looking around them to see if anyone noticed. The crowds passed by, unaware of the younger man’s flushed face or Se7en’s satisfied humming. “Aish, you’re horrible.”

“You like me being horrible, remember?” He poked at Min’s ribs. “Come help me find five more movies. If I get twenty I get two for free.”

“That’s a lot of movies just to get two for free,” Changmin said, crossing his eyebrows together in a slight frown. “Do you even want that many movies?”

“No, but you get two for free,” The singer replied, shrugging. “And they’re cheap. You can take some back to the thugs you live with. Maybe it will keep them so busy they don’t worry about what you and I are doing.”

“I worry sometimes about what you and I are doing,” Min muttered, feeling the brush of Se7en’s fingers along the back of his thigh. “Stop doing that. You’ll get us into trouble.”

“You like trouble as much as you like horrible.” But Se7en stepped away, reaching for another stack of DVDs to go through. “Here. Look at these and see if you can find something you like.”

The kanji made little to no sense to Min, the English even less. He could make out some words like baby and love but beyond that, he was lost. Concentrating on the Japanese, he fretted at the covers, wondering what he was looking at. A nudge at his side came from Se7en’s elbow, and the other man replaced the stack with another, most of the movies bearing familiar American covers with Korean titles.

“Here.” It was a soft gesture, tenderly done to avoid bruising Min’s pride. Shamed at his anger, Changmin bit his lower lip and swallowed the hard words he had on the tip of his tongue. Se7en was different from the members, he wouldn’t deliberately do something to make him feel bad then laugh at his discomfort. You aren’t his younger brother, stupid. Try to remember that you’re his… Min stopped the voice before it could continue.

“What am I?” He mumbled, peering up at Se7en from across the divide of tables. “What am I to him?”

They’d spent hours murmuring about their dreams and ambitions, sometimes trailing off into silly comments about how the others in their lives drove them insane and what made them happy but the one thing both men skirted around was the discussion of what they were.

“Put no name on it, Jaejoong said,” Min reminded himself. “Remember? Don’t place labels on something that you have just because other people think that it needs a name. It’s like naming every star and sunset. A word… a label is just a mental secretion.”

Easy for Jaejoong to say that, Whispered the voices. He has his lover… his soul…the one person that he opens for. What do you have, Changmin? What do you have besides the feel of a man when he leaves you?

The man in question looked up at the moment, meeting Min’s thoughtful gaze.

In that moment, the sky exploded, crackling with blooms of light. Blues and reds played over them, washing their skin with rainbows woven with pale yellows and white. A hint of sulfur haunted the air, wafting down from the fireworks over head.

The space between them evaporated and suddenly Se7en was standing besides him, the older man’s hands on his hips and drawing him close, fitting Min into his belly. Their mouths met, and the night blossomed again, filling Min’s breaths with the taste of his lover.

Honey and hazelnut warred with the smoky richness of Se7en’s mouth, a lingering heat that elicited every rebellious thought Min ever had. Se7en’s shirt filled Min’s hands, and he closed his fingers tight, wishing his nails were digging into the other’s skin. The rough of Se7en’s tongue on his drove Min insane and he swallowed around the man’s kiss, drawing it into his heart and belly. A dizziness hit and then his lungs ached, begging for a hiss of air, anything to relieve the pressure in his chest.

Turning his head, Min gasped for a moment, allowed only a second to fill his lungs before Se7en claimed him again. The singer’s strong hands cradled Changmin’s head, angling him with a press of his thumbs against Min’s jaw.

“Someone will see…” Min exhaled, leaving his protest in Se7en’s open mouth.

“Let them,” Se7en replied, swallowing Min’s breath into the depths of his soul. “Does it matter?”

Did it matter? Yes, Min thought, it did. They had so much to lose in their worlds, exposed to the public and kissing would…end his life… end his career. But the daring of it… that bold dash of exhibitionism made him grip the long strands of hair jutting out from under Se7en’s beanie and seal their fate with a fierce kiss.

He was…tired of hiding. Just for once, he’d want to hold Se7en’s hand in public, their fingers intertwined as they walked down one of the winding river paths. He lived too safe…too sheltered by even the members’ standards. He wanted to live… to feel life inside of him and around him.

Most of all, Min wanted to plunge himself into Se7en’s body and stay there, basking in the other man’s delicious warmth.

“Hey,” Se7en rocked Min in his arms as the lights dimmed around them. Tucked away from the crowds and hidden behind the stretch of tables, Se7en hugged the younger man against him, rubbing his cheek over Min’s temple. “I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure?” Min asked, his face buried into the crook of Se7en’s neck. It felt warm there, safe to be hidden from anyone’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Se7en replied, kissing Min’s ear. “Now, we’ve got to head back to my apartment. I’ve got to be there when the delivery guys shows up.”

“Delivery guys?” Min cocked his head, giving Se7en a curious look.

“Yeah,” The older singer nodded, winking at his lover. “I bought the table from that guy and his sons are going to be dropping it off in about half an hour. After that, baby, you and I are going to see if it can hold our weight.”

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