What was this?!?  Some kind of Jackie Chan flick?  The crowd of boys was silent as the grave.  It was like not a single person dared breathe.  Minho’s jaw dropped open in stupefied wonder.  The nerd that had looked so pathetic just seconds ago…he was some sort of martial arts god or something.  If he had blinked, he might have actually missed it. 

Jinki had taken one small step backward with his right foot, placing it cocked between Joon’s…and then had grabbed a handful of Joon’s sweatpants at the waistband, jammed a hip into the taller boy’s hip and with a flex of well-muscled thighs, flipped the right over his shoulder- keeping a tight hold of his arm.  Dong Joon hit with a loud smack and the sound of flesh impacting the concrete floor caused flinches and sympathetic groans of pain to break out from all over the room.  It wasn’t long until the groans turned to pointing fingers and half-hysterical laughter…as Jinki’s grip on Joon’s waistband had caused the bully’s pants to pull down to his knees during the flip-revealing the presence of Sponge Bob boxers to all present.  The dumb look of the cartoon character was almost perfectly replicated on Joon’s face, and the comparison was hilarious.  Half the crowd went dashing for camera phones and flashes started popping off. 

Say what you will, but Dong Joon wasn’t one to recognize when he’d been beaten.

He scrambled up, simultaneously trying to pull his pants up from their tangled state around his knees and bull-rush Jinki, hoping to trample him down from sheer force.  Like Minho said, the guy just didn’t learn.  Jinki waited until he could smell the guy’s sour deodorant, then knelt and swung a single leg out, sweeping Joon’s feet off the floor.  The surprised boy executed a swan dive and managed to land face first in the bin of used jockstraps awaiting laundry. 

Victory complete.

But there were still Joon’s buddies to take care of, and Jinki didn’t wait around.  He kept his hands circling as one moved from behind Minho and stepped in swinging a wild fury of punches.   Jinki dodged and wove, deflecting punches and all of their force with the barest of touches, floating with a single step or a twitch of his shoulder out of the way.  Realizing that he was hitting nothing but air, the boy went for a kick at Jinki’s groin, but Jinki merely stepped into the kick and locked the leg at the knee joint, using his leverage to force the poor kid to hop along backward on one leg toward Minho.  The sight was comical- a big muscle-bound meathead towering over a shorter, leaner boy still dressed in full uniform.  When he came close enough, he yanked the big idiot closer by the leg, reached up and patted his cheek before shoving just hard enough to make the guy tip over backward on his .   Two down.

The third and fourth buddies looked from the prone form of their leader, to their other friend and back to Jinki, advancing on them with decided purpose.  They weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, but they knew when to give up.  They looked at each other in terror, flung away Minho’s arms like he was infected with the Ebola virus, ducked behind him and shoved him at Jinki….”TAKE HIM, NOT US!!!” and rushed out of the room, tripping and stumbling over each other in their hurry to get away.

Jinki easily caught Minho and steadied him on his feet, taking the opportunity to “accidentally” his fine (very fine, he thought with a smirk) .  Minho startled at the subtle squeeze of his rear, eyes jumping to connect with the shorter male’s only to blush slightly at the interested look on his face.   Jinki broke the look and threw a quick glance around.  One gesture with his chin and immediately thirty boys had MUCH better things to be doing…you know, like escaping the locker room and the ninja who suddenly appeared in their midst.  Thirty seconds later, it was just the two of them. 

Jinki returned his gaze to the soccer boy and blushed a bit in turn at the amazed look the other has plastered across his face.  His beautiful, sculptu- Whoa, son.  You don’t even know if he’s into boys, despite what Dong Joon said.  Just because that jerk was right about you….

The silence stretches out and the soccer boy- Minho, Jinki reminded himself, is looking at the downed Joon, the laid out wingman, and his big eyes skittered around until they caught on the unfortunate glasses, broken in the scuffle.

Jinki thinks this may be the most uncomfortable he’s ever felt around anyone he’s been attracted to- most of the time he has no problem hitting on pretty boys.  But that’s in his old neighborhood, where everyone knew the score.  Here, in these fancy halls, he was out of his element.   Whatever, he thought, it’s not like I can hide behind the “harmless nerd” role anymore anyway.  He decided to go for it. 

He’s almost about to introduce himself, but Minho blurted out,

 “Your glasses, they’ve cracked…” 

“No problem,” Jinki grinned.  He snatched them up and knocked out both lenses, “They were just plain glass, you know; my best friend Key thought I’d look smarter in them.”   

He held out a square-palmed hand for a shake.

“I’m Lee Jinki.”  

“Lee Jin…ki?  Oh, uh, I’m…Minho,” the taller coughed out. 

“Yeah, so I gathered from the douche bag,” Jinki nodded in Joon’s direction.

Minho’s mouth was gaping open and closed, utterly disconcerted by the events of the last two minutes.  Just what the hell had happened? One second he was planning on saving the hapless little nerd being picked on by that asshat Dong Joon, the next Joon was crying on the floor and he was off balance and falling into said nerd’s shockingly muscled and warm body.  He was looking down into luscious caramel eyes.  Noticing that the boy who had just handed Joon his most humiliating moment had probably the most adorable smile he’d ever seen…yeah, his mind was all ed up at the moment.    

Jinki reached out to clasp the hand dangling limply at Minho’s side.  “Yep.  That’s me.   Lee Jinki, honor student for academics….and taekwondo.”   

“YOU’RE the new taekwondo student?”  

“Thanks Captain Obvious.” 

Minho finally lost the wide-eyed look as Jinki leaned in a bit closer.  Jinki was thrilled to find that he was near enough to catch the scent of mown grass and musk. 

He continued, “Did you not see what just happened?”   Jinki cocked his head with a dazzling smile.

Minho got his together and smiled back, returning the handclasp with a slowly firming grip.  He shook it carefully, feeling a zing of electricity at the contact.    His smile widened and he let a bit of flirt creep into his voice, just testing the waters a bit, he thought.

“What just happened?  Yeah, what just happened is a ‘scared little rabbit’ turned out to be a badass taekwondo tokki.” Minho swept a slow, appreciative look up and down Jinki’s body, lingering on his impressively lush thighs and pillowy lips.   “I mean, that foot sweep was awesome,” Minho gushed. 

Jinki’s smile took on a suggestive edge.  “Well, they do say that a rabbit gets lucky.”

Minho tilted his head in inquiry, now less shaking Jinki’s hand as much as caressing his broad palm and brushing long fingers over the smooth backs.   “I think you mean that they say a rabbit’s foot is lucky.”

Jinki shrugged and winked again.   “Uh-huh.  Whatever you say.”   He adroitly turned so that his arm was linked with the taller boy’s, twisting their wrists so that they were still holding hands.  He tugged Minho toward the showers.

Joon, although his hearing was somewhat muffled by the piles of stained jockstraps smelling disgustingly of sweaty balls, caught the fading conversation…

“So, Minho, after you get cleaned up, I was thinking you might be interested in walking me home.  I’d love to show you some of my moves…..”

A/N:  woot!  In all it's non beta'd glory.   Hope you like it.  I'm doing lotsa Onho stuff because  my long chaptered fic has stalled out.  OTL.   

Comments are my crack.  Show the Onho some love ppl.