TELEKINESIS

An excited Minho entered his favorite café and ordered his usual coffee which he knew would be served by his favorite cutie in the place. The café was really staffed by flower boys. It had taken him weeks to settle on one as his favorite. And Minho now visited the cafe daily at the time he knew ‘his cutie’ would be serving and there would hardly be any other customers around, giving him the opportunity to monopolize his cutie’s attention. Minho always came near closing time when his cutie was the only staff around.

As his cutie stretched a little to put down his coffee, Minho decided he was really a genius. He deliberately sat away from the corner of the table, making his cutie stretch. That smooth neck. Those Adam’s apples. Minho felt his canines elongate and his mouth water at the sight of that delectable neck. He inhaled deeply, attempting to immerse all his senses in his cutie. The sweet smell of musk and vanilla emanating from his cutie assailed his senses, drowning him for a few seconds.

“Hope you enjoy your coffee,” Minho drooled at the bobbing Adam’s apples as his cutie wished him with a thousand-watt smile.

“Thank you Onew, I will.” For a second Minho let his mind linger on how soft his cutie’s name was, just like he knew his skin would be.

Onew smiled at his most regular customer and turned to go back to finish his work behind the counter. From experience he knew that no more customers would come and soon he’d be closing the café. He was careful to keep his body and clothes away from the stack of papers that were placed near the corner of the table. He had taken only half a step when the papers once again whooshed around and spread on the floor near the table, all in front of him. He must get a technician to check the air conditioning vents that must be really set on high. This was a daily occurrence when he served this customer his coffee.

Onew bent down to pick up the papers, it was the least he could do for his best tipper whose money in the past four months had allowed him to indulge in purchasing his highly valued collection of scarves and hats. And honestly, he was looking for a reason to spend more time lingering around this particular customer. If Onew was anything, he was honest.

In all honesty, Onew found the customer’s smell intriguing. He sniffed appreciatively once again, inhaling that delicious spicy scent of his best tipper which every time reminded him of fried chicken and made him hungry. Only he wasn’t sure if he was hungry for chicken or the customer. Onew breathed in again, and again. He checked his lips to make sure he was not actually drooling because at that moment he was absolutely certain he was salivating for a taste of the skin carrying that scent.

As his cutie gathered the scattered papers, Minho ogled the perky pointed towards him. He tried to decide where he wanted to sink in his teeth more, the smooth neck or the rounded . Every day he brought in a useless stack of papers with him and then with a single brainwave made them move to spread around in front of his cutie, giving him the opportunity to ogle that perfect to his dead heart’s content. The same brain sent different waves to silently flip the sign on the café door to read ‘closed’ and lock the doors, preventing anyone else from coming in and disturbing his time with his cutie. Minho smiled to himself, telekinesis did have its uses.

Minho was sure if he still had a heart, his cutie would make it beat overtime. He wanted his cutie to touch his dead heart and make it come alive again. He decided he couldn’t endure the distance anymore. He needed more than the coffee on the table. He needed his cutie who was straightening up with the papers in his hands and an apologetic smile on his lush lips. Those pink full lips that Minho spent hours thinking about every day.

“I am sorry. I am so clumsy that I spill your papers every day when I serve you.” Onew apologized for something that was not his mistake at all.

“It’s alright Onew. Don’t worry.” Minho smiled back at Onew charming him with his large eyes, trying not to stare at those lips he was craving to taste which Onew at that moment was wetting with his pink tongue.

Onew bowed slightly and turned to leave, inhaling deeply once more of that spicy scent, trying to keep his canines from peeking out of his lips. He had not even taken a step when the papers whooshed again and settled on the floor exactly in front of him. He tried to understand how that could happen when he’d felt no blast of air from the vents. He bent down to pick up the papers again.

Onew’s sharp ears also picked up a small sound that was quickly silenced. Was that a moan he heard behind him? He turned his head slightly to look behind and saw his best tipper staring at his with the look of a man who’s starving for months. Just to check, he moved his a little and yes, it was his that had brought out the sound because the tipper moaned again. Onew left the papers where they were and straightened up to face the moaner.

“Were you looking where I think you were looking?” Onew questioned before the moaner could look away.

“Huh?” The large eyes that immediately looked at the coffee gave away the truth. “No. I.” Minho stopped for a second to gather his thoughts and courage and then began again. “What cologne do you use?”

“I don’t use any. Why? Do I smell bad?” Onew began smelling his arm pits. He didn’t need to, because he knew there was no smell emanating from him. But human actions had been drilled into him since childhood. His mother had taught him to bathe twice daily to mask his wolf smell.

Onew saw the man blink and, in the next instant, the lights of the café turned off. Onew had no problem seeing in the dark with his wolf eyes. Before he could react, he found himself in his ogler’s arms and a cold nose moving up and down his neck. Onew opened his mouth to speak but the spicy scent incapacitated his brain with its intensity. Onew felt his canines break free and grip the collar bone exposed in front of his eyes as his tongue laved the captured spot to relish the taste.

His cold nose buried in Onew’s neck directly inhaling the exquisite scent had the expected affect on Minho and he felt his canines pierce Onew’s tender skin to begin feeding. Minho was literally starving for Onew. He had not fed since his mind decided to hook on his cutie. Every other smell turned him off and made him nauseated.

Onew’s eyes closed in bliss as Minho drank deeply from the junction of his neck. Onew, in turn, on the spot his teeth had dug into on the taller man’s shoulder. He and let his teeth draw a little blood as he marked the spot in deep satisfaction.

His.

Only his.

He did not even know the name of the man he had marked. But as Onew felt those cold lips on his neck and the ecstasy sweeping through his body with each pulse of blood out of him, Onew knew he had an eternity to find out every secret of his mate.

Starting with what he suspected was his mate’s power of telekinesis.