bang bang bang

Taemin’s eyelids fluttered open briefly before his body willed his mind to shut them again, relaxing behind the shades of darkness when they finally closed. His breath became slow and even matching his heartbeat as he was pulled back to sleep.

bang bang bang

He groaned, turning his head to look at the cheap alarm clock on the floor next to where he slept. 9:07 He blinked a few times trying to focus. 9:07...am or pm? It was dark in the small open floor apartment, the only light was the one filtering in from the obnoxious red neon sign from across the street. Definitely PM, he concluded.

bang bang bang

“Go away!” He tried to shout, his voice coming out in a croak, still groggy from sleep.

What day was it?

It was dark when he got home. He let his head fall back down onto the pillow, keeping his eyes open letting them adjust to the darkness, not that there was much to look at. The space was nearly void of all furniture, just the mattress he lay face down on and the ancient fridge leaning awkwardly in the corner he had only opened once, making sure that was the last time because he was pretty sure something had died in there.

bang bang bang bang bang bang bang...

The pounding on the door didn’t let up this time. A string of curses left his lips as he got up, every joint and every muscle in his body stiff as he began to move.

How long was I out for?

He looked around the floor for a pair of jeans before he realized he was still wearing some. Adjusting himself in the black denim he made his way to the door.

...bang bang bang...

Taemin combed his hands through his hair, stumbling a little, his fingers getting caught in the blonde tangled mess.

...bang bang bang...

“This son of a .”

...bang bang bang...

His grip tightened around the door knob, knuckles white, ready to tell off the on the other side.

...bang bang. Then it stopped.

He flung the door open, glaring into an empty hallway. “What the-?” His toe nudged a small shipping box at this feet. He reached down to pick up the brown package, turning it over a couple times. No label.

His pulse started to echo back in his ears. Taemin fell back against the doorway, the painted surface cold on his . He knows what he should do with it; never open it, burn it, throw it away and forget he ever saw it. It was sealed with a single piece of clear packing tape, his finger picked at the edge of it.

He knew Taemin wouldn’t be able to resist it.

“Bastard.” He mumbled to himself before finally tearing the tape off, opening the lid. He pulled out some crumpled tissue paper, letting that and the tape fall to floor forgotten. A clean white handkerchief was folded neatly in the box, he picked it up carefully, rubbing his thumb over the delicately stitched monogram in the corner. LJ Underneath the linen was a shiny bronze bell that chimed softly when he moved it. Bringing the cloth to his face he inhaled deeply, the scent triggering a flood of memories.

That simple earthy smell. A whisper, that sweet tenor voice vibrating through his eardrums sending tiny after shocks down his spine, a pair of confident hands he relinquished all his control to, the taste of the other man’s skin causing a hunger that would never be satisfied by anything other than his lips pressed to it again.

Taemin closed his eyes, his fist tightening around the memento. He let himself get so drawn in the memories he didn’t notice the tall figure that stood at the end of the hallway now. It wasn’t until his hand trembled causing the tiny bell to chime again that he bothered to open them.

Immediately he froze, noticing the other man. He turned his head slowly, eyes widening as he saw who it was. The man stood tall in a crimson color three piece suit, his hair carelessly hanging across his brow, the ends brushing the top of a black leather mask around his eyes. Taemin knew who it was, there was no need for disguises at this point.

Minho. Taemin’s lips moved but no sound came out.

The man smiled, the feature had an almost childlike charm, contrasting against how his large hands adjusted the grip on the sledge hammer. Each finger tightening around it one by one.

Taemin jumped, escaping back inside just as Minho took off toward him at full speed. He slammed the door behind him, locking it. As if that would stop him.

BANG

The lanky blonde let out an embarrassing shriek, reaching down for his boots, still clutching the bell and handkerchief in one hand.

BANG BANG BANG

“ing psycho.” He muttered, grabbing for his phone and pushing it in his back pocket.

BANG

The sound of the wood splintering made him panic more, struggling to lift the window to head out of the fire escape.

BANG

BANG

He grunted, the window finally sliding up with a screech.

CRACK

Looking back as he grabbed his leather jacket he saw the yellow light from the hallway filtering in. He stepped out onto the shaky metal steps of the fire escape, tossing his shoes and jacket to the ground two stories down. He jumped down the first flight and lowered the ladder to first story, recklessly sliding down the railing. His back end hit the concrete, the pain in his tailbone went unnoticed as he reached for his boots kicking them on quickly. He grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he broke into a run down the sidewalk.

His lungs felt like they were on fire by the time he stopped, leaning his hands on his knees as he looked back. Minho wasn’t crazy enough to chase him down in a residential neighborhood. Right? He started walking again, shoving the gift he had held on tightly to in his pocket, cautiously glancing back every so often, still not enough distance between him and the tall man.

He shivered, pulling the at the stiff material trying to wrap it around his bare chest. The jacket offering little to no help at keeping him warm. Remembering his phone, he pulled it from his pocket, thumbing at the button on the side. It was dead. He cursed at himself, apparently he forgot to plug it in before he decided to go into a mini coma. No phone, no money, he looked around defeated. In his hurry to get away from Minho his legs had carried him closer to the only place he could go. The place he wanted to avoid, the one he tried to escape from. But he seemed to be drawn back to it like a moth to a flame.

Twenty minutes later he was in the rich part of town, staring at the front door to a large two story modern house. A silver door knocker in the shape of a lion’s head seemed to mock him as he stood there.

You don’t have to be here?

Where else would I go?

Don’t give in to what he wants.

How do you know I don’t want to be here too?

Do you? Then why did you run away?

Maybe...I don’t know.

Suddenly a different, much less mocking voice came to his head.

My Taemin, you always have a place here now.

That sweet voice husked in his mind.

My Taemin...

His heart thudded so hard he felt his pulse in his neck. He knew he was a fool for coming back here, he knew he was an even bigger fool for ever trying to leave. Taking a deep breath he entered the pin code into the key pad, slowly stepping inside.

The house was pristine. Spotless. But also inviting and warm. Dark earthy tones of greens, browns, and navy decorated the space, the scent of baked goods filled the air, and a fire crackled in the room heating his tired and cold body. And that voice, there was that voice again, not in his head that time, but greeting him with the same warmth the house did.

“My Taemin.” The man came around the corner, setting his glass of Pinot Noir on the marble counter top. He was dressed casually but still looked impeccable in a pair of fitted khakis and mossy green sweater. “You received my gift.”

Taemin looked at him with pleading eyes, any resolve he had to stay away crumbled when he saw the man’s face. That bright smile, those too kind eyes.

“I missed you.” The man whispered as he wrapped a pair of strong arms around Taemin’s slim body.

Taemin couldn’t help but melt into the embrace. Comfort washed over him as the firm chest pressed against his, the soft cashmere that clung perfectly to the sculpted muscle felt like heaven against his bare skin. The same earthy smell that the handkerchief had donned filled his nostrils again as he buried his face into the crook of the older man’s neck. His chapped lips brushing along the velvety skin.

“Jinki.” He whispered.