Work Text:
i. pretty.
Taemin is pretty used to cross-dressing by now. So when Kibum decided to drag him into doing a special girl-group cover duet for a performance, Taemin had sighed and rolled his eyes and taken the whole thing as a matter of course.
He hadn’t expected to encounter any problems. Taemin considers himself nearly a pro at pretending to be a girl by now.
But he had run into a very big problem indeed.
Namely, that Kibum is really fucking attractive dressed like this.
It doesn’t help that Kibum is currently practicing the dance they’re about to do as they wait backstage. It’s really a very sexy dance, full of hip rolls and suggestive looks. It is thusly becoming increasingly difficult for Taemin to keep from having a very awkward and noticeable problem in his miniskirt.
Taemin scrunches his eyes shut. Get a grip, he orders himself. This is your hyung you’re drooling over!
That doesn’t help either. There’s something deliciously sinful about the idea of bending Kibum over the nearest table, peeling off those ridiculously short shorts and-
“Taemin? Are you okay?”
Taemin blinks and jumps in the chair he’s sitting in. Kibum is leaning over him, face only a few inches away, brows furrowed with concern.
He’s wearing entirely too much smoky eyeliner. Taemin looks away from the distracting eyeliner and at his lips instead. That proves to be worse. Taemin imagines reaching out to cup Kibum’s face in his palms, imagines drawing him closer, imagines pressing their mouths together, nibbling at Kibum’s reddened lips…
“Earth to Taemin!” Kibum snaps fingers in front of Taemin’s eyes, making him jump again. “Stop spacing out. We’re on in a few minutes.”
“I know,” says Taemin, rather too hoarsely. His mind is still stuck on wondering what Kibum would do if Taemin just leaned forward and kissed him. Would he kiss back? Would he moan? Would those dark lashes flutter closed against flawless skin?
Kibum raises an eyebrow at him. Then he straightens, steps back and starts practicing the dance again, apparently reassured that Taemin isn’t about to fall asleep backstage.
Taemin stares at the swish of his hyung’s pert ass and tries not to think about what Kibum’s inviting mouth might taste like.
ii. dancer.
Kibum watches as Taemin spirals his way about the stage for his concert solo. Kibum himself should probably be backstage, helping Minho and Jinki reassure Jonghyun that his minor sore throat isn’t going to screw his singing up that noticeably, but Kibum never can pass up a chance to watch Taemin dance.
At first, it was just hyung-ly pride. Then, somewhere along the way, Kibum found himself entranced at the sharp thrust of hips, the smoldering flashes of dark eyes, the effortless mastery of every muscle in motion. He’d caught himself staring breathlessly at Taemin’s every move, wanting the solo to never end, just so he could drown in the burning rhythm of the dance forever.
It had just been so…arousing.
And it still is.
It’s a guilty pleasure, of course. It would be too embarrassing for words to ever admit that he gets turned on by watching their cute little maknae break it down on stage.
All the same, Kibum can’t help wondering if Taemin has the same intensity in the bedroom as he does in front of the cameras.
His breath hitches in his throat as he fantasizes about what might happen if, after exiting the stage, Taemin were to find him here and pin him to the wall, crush their mouths together and grind against him with a roll of those dancer’s hips.
The fantasy unwinds further, to hands tangling fiercely in sweaty hair, to the stripping-off of Taemin’s leather outfit, the rest of the world falling away as Taemin kisses him senseless against this very wall. Taemin is so flexible; the possibilities of how they might fuck are endless and exciting.
Abruptly, the music ends with a long, drawn-out note. Kibum shudders and shakes himself. Then he hastily slips away before Taemin can actually find him here.
He doubts Taemin would be very pleased to see his hyung salivating over him like this.
iii. family.
One of the directors for the shoot for their latest music video has brought along two of their children. The two little girls are twins, dressed in matching outfits, and are absolutely adorable.
During one of the breaks, Taemin sits quietly in a chair and watches Kibum play with the twins. His other three hyungs are going over the dance again and none of the crew is really paying attention. It’s just Kibum and the two small children, and Taemin, watching them.
They’re playing some variant of I Spy. Kibum keeps picking really obvious objects for the girls to find, then feigning amazement at how clever they are once they succeed. They, on the other hand, are clearly trying their best to stump him.
Creative in the way only little children can be, they actually manage to succeed in this goal. When Kibum finally gives up, unable to spot the latest object they’d chosen, the twins crow with glee and jump on him. Kibum laughs and lets them, eyes sparkling at their enthusiasm.
Something in Taemin’s heart warms at the sight. Part of him desperately wants to go over and join in the fun as well, but most of him can’t bear to break up the adorable scene of Kibum happily letting the two little girls run rings around him.
Kibum’s gaze lifts at that point, and he catches Taemin watching. Taemin hunches his shoulders, embarrassed to be caught staring. Kibum’s lips just quirk into an amused smile, unbothered, before one of the twins tugs at his jacket and he has to turn his attention back to them.
Taemin’s urge to join them grows stronger. It would be nice to just walk over, he reflects, and greet the kids, then slide his fingers through Kibum’s hair and pull him in for a swift, sweet kiss.
The misty daydream drifts in his mind, changes form. He muses on what it might be like if this were a common occurrence. What might it be like if he could kiss Kibum as often as he wanted? What would the tenderness be like, the familiarity?
The intensity of the desire catches Taemin by surprise. He quickly buries the wistful longing.
Taemin gets up to join his other three hyungs, suddenly certain that if he stays watching Kibum any longer, he will do something impulsive that he would later regret.
iv. comfort.
It’s been a shitty day.
Worse, it’s been a shitty week and Kibum just can’t stand it anymore. Every single little thing anyone does makes him want to strangle them and sob and it’s just awful. He needs less stress and more sleep, and neither is forthcoming any time soon.
So he flops on his bed instead, and stares uselessly and moodily up at the ceiling. Fuck everything. Why do human beings have to have emotions, anyway?
“Hyung?”
Kibum startles, then sits up and looks at the door. Taemin lingers awkwardly in the doorway, clearly uncertain of his welcome.
“Yes? What?” Kibum snaps, only a little ashamed of the grumpy viciousness in his tone.
“Um,” says Taemin. He shuffles his feet. “Are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay? Fuck off and go bother someone else.”
The instant the words leave his mouth, Kibum regrets them. It’s not fair to be an asshole to Taemin about things that are not Taemin’s fault.
His guilt worsens when Taemin acquires a kicked-puppy expression and lowers his gaze.
“Sorry, hyung,” Taemin says quietly. “I just wanted to know if you needed anything.”
Kibum cringes, feeling six times more awful than he had a moment ago.
“No,” he says, softening his tone in apology. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Taemin nods, hesitating like he wants to do or say something. Kibum waits.
An embarrassing part of him wishes he could just ask Taemin to come closer and comfort him with a hug. An even more embarrassing part imagines where that hug might go, if Taemin were to crawl on top of him and make everything better with tender touches and warm kisses.
But he can’t ask for any of that. For one thing, he’s the hyung and Taemin is the dongsaeng. It’s his duty to protect and comfort Taemin, not the other way around.
So he watches Taemin nod again and leave. Then he buries himself into his pillows with eyes squeezed shut and heart longing for the gentle press of Taemin’s lips against his.
v. adult.
Alone in his room, Taemin growls out a sigh.
It’s just so irritating how Kibum still treats him like a kid sometimes.
It’s not as bad now as it used to be, back when Kibum still did things like make him lunch and pack his school bag for him. But Taemin still can’t shake the feeling that his hyung doesn’t always take him seriously because of the age gap.
It’s really infuriating to have a crush on a guy who thinks you’re still sixteen.
Taemin doesn’t ordinarily have much of a problem with being coddled by his hyungs. It’s nice to be the youngest and always looked after. But every time Kibum keeps quiet about his problems because he thinks Taemin can’t handle them, or coos at his apparent cuteness, or worries about whether Taemin has drunk enough water before going on a hot stage, Taemin can’t help but feel a huge surge of frustration.
If Kibum still thinks of him as nothing more than the childish maknae, then Taemin’s chances with him are less than zero.
Of course, even if they were the same age, that might not necessarily make Kibum any more inclined to actually notice him for once. But at least Taemin’s fantasies wouldn’t be cut short by Kibum teasing him about how naïve he still is about some things.
It feels like salt rubbed into a festering wound. Taemin would give so much for Kibum to look at him once, just once, like he’s a grown man. An attractive grown man.
Fuck, he’d give anything to see Kibum look at him with eyes full of desire instead of mere hyung-ly fondness.
Taemin sighs, tips his head back and trails his fingers along his thigh. He’d given up on trying to get over his inappropriate feelings for Kibum several months ago and become resigned to just dealing with the knowledge that Kibum is never going to return the sentiment.
Along with his newfound resignation, however, had come the recurring impulse just to walk up and smooch the living daylights out of Kibum, to make him wake up and realize that Taemin is a handsome adult now, not a schoolboy.
The impulse is getting harder and harder to fight, but Taemin knows he can’t give in to it. He knows that kissing Kibum will get him the opposite of the reaction he wants.
Still, he finds himself returning to daydreams about it more and more. He longs to align their bodies together, hook his fingers in Kibum’s belt and curl his tongue through Kibum’s mouth until his hyung is breathless and shaking. He hungers to taste Kibum’s lips against his, to discover the angles and dips of his body, to press kisses down Kibum’s arched throat.
He wants, more than anything, to kiss Kibum and prove to him that it’s okay to want Taemin every bit as much as Taemin wants him.
i. jealousy.
Kibum is overjoyed when he receives the news from their managers that he’s been offered a role in We Got Married. He’s wanted to be on the show for ages. It just looks like so much fun.
The girl he’s to co-star with is both pretty and nice, with a good eye for variety skills. Kibum is looking forward to working with her. Minho, Jonghyun and Jinki are gleefully amused at the prospect of Kibum being on the show as well.
For some reason, Taemin isn’t at all enthused. Moreover, he’s been out of sorts since Kibum broke the news.
Kibum thinks he knows why. Taemin probably feels like Kibum is stealing the spotlight from him, after his own run on the show.
After about a week of dealing with Taemin’s sudden grouchiness, Kibum sits him down alone one day to talk it out. It doesn’t feel right, having this much bad sentiment between them. Taemin isn’t usually the type to harbor grudges.
Once they are seated next to each other on the living room sofa, Kibum launches into his carefully thought-out speech. He reassures Taemin that he isn’t trying to one-up him by following in his footsteps. He promises to invite Taemin on as a guest several times, much as Taemin had invited him. He apologizes for any hard feelings.
Taemin just sits there, face growing increasingly stonier. Kibum finally gives up and just stares helplessly at him.
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” Kibum says, hopelessly confused as to what could possibly be wrong. “Are you upset with me about something else?”
Taemin bites his lip. “I’m not upset with you,” he says, speaking for the first time. “I’m just-” He cuts himself off, biting down harder.
“You are upset with me, though,” Kibum says. “You have been all week, since I told you the news.” He sighs, frustrated. “I just don’t understand why. I’m not trying to hurt you by doing this-”
“It’s not that,” Taemin says quickly. “It’s not anything you’ve been trying to apologize for, hyung.”
“Then what is it?” When Taemin doesn’t answer, Kibum tries again, voice as gentle as he can make it. “You can tell me, Taeminnie, I promise I’ll do what I can to make it better-”
Taemin balls his hands into fists. “I’m jealous, all right?”
Kibum starts, taken aback by his sudden vehemence.
“Jealous?” Kibum says blankly. “Of…but I didn’t know you liked her that much! I’m sorry, Taemin-ah, but it is just a show, you know-”
“I know it’s just a show.” Taemin is actually glaring in the general direction of Kibum’s knees. "You- the two of you- there’s still going to be skinship and romance and things. Fake or not, I just…I hate it.”
Kibum feels his heart melt. As his feelings for Taemin have deepened over the past few months, he knows he would feel the same if he had to watch Taemin do the show again now.
“I can try to set the two of you up, if you want,” he offers, ignoring the pang he feels at his own words. The important thing is Taemin’s happiness, not his own misplaced desires. “I’ll get to see her a lot off-camera, there’ll be plenty of opportunity. She’s about your age, too, it’d be so cute if you two dated.”
Taemin’s eyes flick up to his, openly upset.
“I’m not jealous that you get to pretend to date her,” Taemin says, leaning forward, eyes intense. “I’m jealous of her because I want to date you.”
There’s a sudden, startled pause.
“I- you- what?” says Kibum finally, blankly. Taemin couldn’t have just said what Kibum had thought he’d said. He couldn’t have.
Could he?
“It’s not her I want,” repeats Taemin, not breaking his intent gaze. “It’s you.”
Kibum suddenly can’t breathe, unable to do anything but stare, wide-eyed and shocked, at Taemin. A feeling like butterflies rises in his stomach, fluttery and disconcerting.
Taemin seems to have realized the import of his words. He winces and ducks his head, shoulders hunching and anger fading into intense embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, hyung,” he squeaks out. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry. I-I know it’s wrong of me.”
He makes a move like he’s about to get up off the sofa. Kibum reaches forward before his mind can catch up to what his body is doing, and seizes his wrist to pull him back down.
Taemin opens his mouth, probably to apologize again. Kibum’s brain has still not regained the ability to form coherent words over the shock of realizing that Taemin had just confessed to him.
So he does the only thing his stunned mind can think of to let Taemin know he doesn’t have to keep apologizing.
Kibum leans forward and kisses him.
And it’s the best feeling in the world when Taemin kisses him back.