Part XIX (501 words)
The Crumbled Wall

I want to kiss you again.

Taemin sort of wants to cry when he gets this text because he has no idea what he wants to say exactly. So far he has typed different variations of Hell to the motherin’ yes and In your dreams, , all of which have ultimately failed his approval and then were promptly erased. But he is not going to lie, the text made him ridiculously happy, and, yeah, maybe he wants to kiss Jinki again too―this time actually kissing back instead of just standing there like an idiot or something.

Apparently he takes too long replying because Jinki sends another text a few minutes later.

Your lips are really soft.

Taemin is hyperventilating now, but Jinki just texts him again.

You’re really cute when you’re nervous... makes me wanna eat you.

A muffled scream leaves Taemin’s mouth as his heart attempts to jump straight out of his chest. His hands are shaking as he hurriedly replies:

Please don’t be like this...

Not even a minute later, Jinki texts back:

You like it though.

Taemin doesn’t even have a chance to deny the text before his doorbell rings. He climbs out of bed from where he lies curled up under the comforters, bright bedside lamp fighting off the dark. In his rush he forgets about his disheveled appearance and doesn’t glance through the peephole, opening the door; all the breath escapes his lungs at the sight of Jinki standing there with a playful grin on his face.

“Kibum invited me over,” he reveals.

“But Kibum doesn’t live here.”

“I know. I came for you.”

As if Taemin didn’t already know.

Suddenly Jinki surges forward, his strong, capable hands wrapping around Taemin’s thin waist and pulling him close. The younger man barely gets a chance to suppress the gasp he emits as Jinki’s lips press endearingly against his forehead.

Taemin’s cheeks prickle with heat, fingers curling into the lapels of Jinki’s jacket. “To do what?” he finds himself asking, mumbling the words shyly.

Jinki’s voice is provokingly low when he speaks, breath warm against Taemin’s cheek as he whispers, “So you’re not alone when I turn the lights off.”

“W-What do you mean by that?” Taemin questions, although the heat pooling in his stomach tells him that he already knows.

The older man doesn’t bother replying, soft lips dragging down the bridge of Taemin’s nose to kiss his mouth. Taemin melts into a puddle, whimpering when he feels Jinki’s tongue trace the seam of his lips, begging for entrance, and he loses all of inhibitions, mouth dropping open compliantly. Jinki’s hands slide down Taemin’s sides to purposefully knead the dips of his waist, traveling even lower and hooking his index fingers into the belt loops and tugging the younger man closer by the hips until he could feel the hardening bulge in the front of Jinki’s jeans.

A spark of arousal goes straight to Taemin’s groin―if that wasn’t enough of an answer, then nothing was.