[fic] Taemin/Key – SHINee – a little like this – oneshot

[rabenhorst]

Title: a little like this
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Warnings: pwp
Pairing: Taemin/Key
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: It doesn’t matter who wears the skirt. Not when Taemin always gets what he wants.
Comments: inspired by the my first kiss stage, and yes I know there have been like a million fics written of it but… here’s one more! 8D/ shameless pwp and if you know me at all you know that despite Taemin wearing the skirt he’s not going to be the girl that gets deflowered. jsyk.
oh and I know the real order of their solos and the other performed songs was different but humour me.

In retrospect, Key should’ve known this was bound to happen, straight from the beginning.

It had felt like a good idea to dress Taemin in a glittery skirt and a cute top, to make him play the girl for his solo. The long, shiny blond wig just about perfected the image, and everyone agreed it would be one hell of a show. Especially with the way they worked so well with the choreography, throwing the act together with only a few rehearsals.

That was then. Now is now. And now Key is cursing his stupidity.

It’s not like Taemin has much of an ass to show off. His backside is actually quite flat, and his legs are so skinny they don’t really have curves to draw attention, not even with the lacy tights he’s wearing. Then the wig, well, that should be a turn off too, with how thick and obviously fake it is, sitting atop Taemin’s head. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that should draw Key’s attention to Taemin in a magnetic way that stops him from looking away.

Yet, Key finds himself more than a little distracted. He stares at the way Taemin moves, the way he pops his body with such ease it looks like he was born to do this, born to own the stage. For the first time ever Key is being overthrown in his own solo and the worst thing is that he doesn’t even mind. No, he’s too busy drooling after Taemin and how he moves with such fluid grace it’s impossible to imitate.

A fun joke, indeed. Now Key realizes that the joke’s on him. He finally gives up on the excuses and instead focuses on pulling off the solo the best he can. Thankfully he’s a professional. He can do this, he can throw one hell of a show even when the dancing Taemin is burned in the back of his mind forever, whether his eyes are on him or not.

The worst moment is when they move closer and face each other. Key smirks cockily and leans in, and for a split second there’s this certain look in Taemin’s eyes. He has seen that sparkle there several times and he knows exactly what it means. He knows that had this been a rehearsal he’d already be thrown against the mirrored wall with an armful of Taemin pressed right there.

This isn’t a rehearsal though, this is the real thing, and just a few feet away from them there’s the mass of the audience, hundreds of pairs of eyes locked at them, thirsty for their every move.

Key’s heart is thumping in his chest like mad and for one excruciating second he thinks he’s going to lose all the remains of his self control, just like this. Imagine the headlines, all the scandals that’d spark from him actually doing it. It’d be all over the papers before they could even pull apart again and, well, there is a thing called bad publicity. Or alternately professional suicide.

It takes a lot of effort but he doesn’t kiss Taemin, not there, not now. But he knows the teasing smirk he gets as Taemin pulls away and saunters to the other side of the stage. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. There’s no doubt that he’s doing it on purpose. A part of Key is fuming and he would like to plot a bloody revenge, but at the same time he kind of enjoys this, even if there’s a visible problem forming in his pants.

Even when the teasing stops and they’re just dancing side by side, grinning and throwing all of their energy into the performance, the arousal is burning somewhere in the pit of his stomach. It has been ignited and as long as he can steal glances at Taemin shaking his ass right there next to him, he won’t even have a chance to calm down.

Distantly, Key wonders when his life came to this.

The rest of the performance goes by in a blur; it’s over in a flash and at the same time can’t end soon enough. Key is almost completely in control of himself by the time he stumbles backstage, receiving a manly pat on the shoulder from Minho that nearly sends him face first on the floor. Jinki hugs him quick before getting ready for the last finishing touches before his solo. Jonghyun is already out there and Key shrugs off his obnoxiously pink jacket as he moves to the monitors, intending on watching at least a bit of the beginning.

He never gets the chance. After two steps Taemin cuts in front of him, all smouldering eyes and cocky smirk, looking like someone who knows he’ll get what he wants. “Key-hyung,” he puts emphasis on the honorific and that is yet another clue of what’s up. “Could I talk to you for a second?” He’s still wearing the whole outfit for the performance, even the wig clipped atop his head even if it’s a little askew, pushed back from his forehead.

Key is about to protest and say no, he would rather listen to Jonghyun’s solo now that it has been altered and he hasn’t yet seen the new version. He thinks he could also say he needs to help Jinki calm down before his own turn on stage, or that he needs to go find the restrooms as soon as possible. Taemin doesn’t give him the chance to do any of that, though, not before he grabs Key’s wrist and tugs him along.

The touch, as innocent as it is, is electrifying and it feels like Taemin’s fingertips sear little jolts into Key’s skin. They end up in an empty room and distantly Key wonders how it’s even possible when the whole building is bustling with people and it feels like the backstage dressing rooms are about to burst. Here they are, though, the door clicking shut behind them and delivering them into darkness.

Key hardly has the time to blink and try to make his eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light when he’s pushed against the wall, insistent lips on his own and thin fingers threading into his hair. Taemin doesn’t even try to act coy as he pushes his hips into Key’s, hard enough that his erection is perfectly evident even through their clothes. “I want you,” he whispers throatily when he pulls back, barely enough to get the words out before he’s licking over Key’s lower lip again.

“Taemin,” Key tries, placing his palms on Taemin’s chest to push him away. He barely manages to get two inches between them before Taemin uses the moment to cant his hips just right, teasingly rubbing their lower bodies together. “Fuck, Taemin.” He doesn’t even register that the words spill from him, not before Taemin laughs.

“Well that’s the general idea,” Taemin winks, and oh god he looks so sinful with his slightly swollen lips and sparkling eyes. The wig looks like it might fall off any second now, and automatically Key reaches out to gently remove the pins that hold it in place. He’s finally used enough to the darkness to see more than just vague shapes, assisted by the light filtering inside through the gap underneath the door.

“Not now,” Key says as the wig finally slides off and on the ground. Now that he doesn’t have anything to do with his hands anymore he lets them dangle limply to his sides. “You looked fantastic out there.”

The compliment slips unintentionally but it’s worth it as Taemin’s eyes light up and his smile even widens. “So did you. With your tight pants,” he drawls and as he speaks he slides his palms up Key’s thighs to his hips, tugging on said piece of garment lightly. “You should wear them more often.”

Key snorts and refrains from pointing out that all the pants he wears are so tight they might just cut off his circulation accidentally. He doesn’t get that far, not before Taemin is suddenly sinking down on his knees right in front of him. That now is enough a clue to tip him off, and he thinks he has a pretty good guess of what’s to follow.

They’re pressed for time, but maybe there’s just enough for a quick backstage blowjob? Key guesses Jonghyun is now halfway through his solo, maybe, and then there’s the planned break. “Just,” he gasps as Taemin tugs his pants open and down to mid-thigh, enough to expose how he’s already undeniably hard. “Make it quick, okay?”

There is no answer other than the soft lips that enclose around the head of his cock, a teasing tongue that drags across the sensitive tip. Taemin wastes no time as he slides down further, flexing his jaw to accommodate as much as he can. Another string of profanities slip from Key and he lets his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk. It’s not like this is the first time Taemin sucks him off, but it’s always a little bit more thrilling when they’re technically out there for anyone to catch. He doesn’t think the door even has a lock.

Key is pulled back from his feverish thoughts when suddenly Taemin withdraws almost fully and does this thing with his tongue that has Key’s knees turn into jelly within a split second. “Holy f– where did you learn that?” He sputters but only gains an amused – and muffled – chuckle from Taemin, who is slowly bobbing his head to a nonexistent rhythm.

It’s already enough to push Key close to the edge, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving along with every inhale. He flattens his palms against the wall behind him and tries to focus on staying upright, waiting for the spark of the orgasm to light inside of him.

It never comes.

Instead Taemin pulls back with an audible pop, showing off his abilities as a dancer as he slides up Key’s body and rolls against him in the most delicious of ways. His hands are back on Key’s hips and he crushes their mouths together in a messy, uncoordinated kiss. Key can taste himself on Taemin’s tongue and it sends a sharp spike of lust down his spine.

“You have no idea,” Taemin says and stops to swallow, licking his lips in a way that should be illegal as it makes Key’s brain short circuit immediately. “No idea how fuckable you look right now, Key.” Taemin leans in and nibbles on the sharp line of Key’s jaw, scrapes his teeth along his throat only to follow the same path with his tongue. “I want to fuck you.”

Key can’t help it, his brains are way too far gone with the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, and his hazed mind apparently finds the thought of this situation kind of hilarious. He laughs, even though the sound turns into a desperate groan when their hips press together again. The feeling of the skirt against his bare arousal is slightly painful, but at this point he takes any friction he gets. “Shouldn’t it be me,” he answers the unvoiced question, “talking about fucking?”

There is an edge of amusement laced in Taemin’s voice, but otherwise it’s full of pure, undiluted need. “Why?”

“Because,” Key says and slides his hands under the glittery fabric, tugging a little on the lacy tights. “You are the one wearing the skirt.”

Taemin laughs then, full and rich. “No,” he says and shakes his head. “You know that’s not going to happen now. It’s not like you even want to.”

That might be true and Key doesn’t protest. Instead he leans back against the wall and flashes a cocky grin, or at least as cocky as he manages when he just wants to get off right now. “C’mon, Taemin. Finish what you started.”

There’s barely enough time to register the way Taemin smirks, before he spins Key around and pushes him against the wall unceremoniously. Instinctively Key places his palms on the surface, his cheek pressed against it. “Hey,” he begins to protest, but he doesn’t really get any further than that before Taemin wraps a hand around his neglected cock, reminding him of how badly he wants this.

Key lets his eyes fall shut and arches his back, focusing on the sensations, and when Taemin preps him quick he doesn’t even resist. He knows he should. They’re halfway through a concert and he needs to go back out there, he needs to sing and dance and smile like there’s nothing going on. He also knows, from experience, that dancing right after getting fucked is not very high on the list of his favourite activities.

The thought of the inevitable soreness flies from Key’s mind when Taemin’s spit slicked fingers slide into him despite the resistance. He balls his fist and brings it to his mouth to stifle the sounds he’s bound to make rather sooner than later, and within seconds he’s biting into his index finger to maximise the effect. At the same time he’s already pressing back against Taemin greedily, showing with every single movement that he wants it just as badly, if not more.

They both know it’s not really enough preparation when Taemin pulls his hand away and instead presses flush against Key’s back, moaning at the sensations. Somehow he’s worked the skirt and the tights out of the way and now there’s nothing between them as he slides his cock between Key’s buttocks and rubs on him teasingly. “We still have the break,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss on Key’s shoulder through the thin shirt he’s wearing. “And Jinki-hyung’s solo.” It amounts to a little more than ten minutes, give or take a few.

Again, Taemin pre-empts Key and moves already before he can order him to. In one easy movement Taemin positions himself and pushes inside of Key’s body, stretching him further in the process. They’ve done this often enough to be familiar with each other’s bodies and reactions, and he only stops when he’s sheathed all the way in, giving them both a second. The tightness is almost unbearable for the first few heartbeats, and Taemin can taste the metallic tang of blood where he bites the inside of his cheek to keep in control.

The lacking prep makes the friction more intense than usual but it’s nothing that can’t be lived through. By the third slow thrust Key is pushing back against Taemin like before, wordlessly urging him to pick up the pace and slam into him hard enough to finish this fast. Key focuses on the way Taemin’s fingernails dig into his hips, leaving crescent marks behind, on the way he angles his thrusts to barely brush on where Key needs him the most.

The heat within is unbearable and Key can’t stop himself from squirming a little on his place as he tries to spread his legs further, tries to change the position so the angle of penetration gets him more of what he wants. Then all of a sudden Taemin snaps his hips forward harder and it makes Key cry out as he tries to find something to grab a hold of, fingers sliding across the wall, barely able to keep standing.

After two more of those hard thrusts Taemin stops altogether, their bodies pressed flush together. Key can hear Taemin’s harsh breaths through the blood rushing in his ears, can feel him so deep that it’s almost unreal.

“Think about it, Key,” Taemin croons, right into Key’s ear. “In five more minutes you will be out there singing Lucifer.” He flicks out his tongue, catches the earlobe between his teeth to tug lightly. “You’ll be on stage and they’ll all be looking at you. They’ll be looking at you, cheering and screaming your name, while you–” He pauses and Key can feel the grin against his neck. “–you will still feel me inside of you.”

A shudder goes through Key at the mere thought of that and he can barely bite back the moan that breaks free. He whimpers as he presses his forehead against the wall, his fingers tightening into fists. He doesn’t have a thing for dirty talk, not really. At least he never did before Taemin stepped into the picture. Now, when it’s Taemin whispering him those things, purring dirty details in the middle of fucking him, he can’t help but react. Maybe it’s the contrast between the usual sweet demeanour and moments like this, he has no idea.

Whatever it is, the words cause the arousal spike and rush through his veins, the mere thought of that making his cock throb with interest until he’s a little closer to the edge just from that. Taemin is moving again but he keeps their bodies close, so close that the thrusts are shallow and barely there, enough to just drive them both insane with need.

“They will watch you,” Taemin goes on, his voice slightly choked. “And you will struggle to keep up with the steps. I’ll fuck you so good you’ll feel it every time you as much as shift.” They both know he’s not making empty promises. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that it’ll be more than challenging for Key to coordinate his movements once they’re back out there again in only a few minutes.

Taemin, however, doesn’t seem to be satisfied yet. He gives one particularly deep thrust, one that makes Key nearly wail, before he goes on. “Imagine it, Key. You’ll wave at the cute girls standing in the front row, and at the same time you can still feel me leaking out of you.”

That now is the kind of image that is bound to be burned into the back of Key’s mind for good. He knows it’s true, and he knows that it’ll turn him on whether he wants it or not. He doesn’t even manage a reply other than a garbled sound that forces its way out of his throat. Taemin seems to take it as a hint, and pulls back so slow Key can focus on every single millimetre of his cock as it slides out of him.

“Remember this, Key,” Taemin says, ghosting his fingers over Key’s nape before he tangles them in the blond strands of hair. Key’s hair is sticky with gel and hairspray, ensuring that this’ll mess up his hairdo beyond repair, but he can’t bring himself to mind when Taemin tightens the grip enough to sting slightly.

Then Taemin slams right back inside of him. It’s only one harsh snap of hips and it makes Key scream, the sound choked because at the same time Taemin pulls his head back in a way that forces him to crane his neck. For one terrifying second he’s completely sure that everyone in this building has heard that and will soon come running, but then Taemin is fucking him so deep he forgets everything else.

It feels like he’s been teetering on the edge for a small eternity, and Key knows he won’t be able to take it much longer. When Taemin pulls him close and kisses him he willingly parts his lips, the lazy flicks of their tongues in contrast to the way Taemin sinks into him with more force than he seems capable of.

That’s all it takes in the end and Key’s body seizes up, his gasp muffled by Taemin’s mouth as he comes hard and spills over the wall in front of him. Taemin fucks him through the orgasm and in the end Key has no idea when Taemin followed him over the edge. He must have, though, since when he pulls back and slips out, Key can feel the warm release dribbling down his thigh. It makes him groan and he quickly bites his lip, a little too hard.

Key doesn’t resist when Taemin turns him around and gently brushes the stray hairs off his sweaty forehead. “We might need to fix our makeup a bit,” Taemin says, matter-of-fact, even though one can still hear the waver in his voice. There’s a goofy grin dancing on his lips, and it’s enough to make Key laugh breathlessly.

“Your lips still look like you just sucked cock,” he points out.

Taemin just smirks. “You look like you just got fucked.”

“Touché.”

They can’t resist stealing a few more quick kisses as they fix their clothes the best they can, and add some powder in hopes no one notices the slightly smudged makeup. Key can already tell it’s going to be a total pain to get through the concert, wincing as he pulls his pants up, but then again he’s in too good of a mood to even mind.

There’s still a little more than a minute to spare when they slip back to the dressing room and Taemin runs straight to get out of the skirt and into his pants. There are still pins in his hair and remains of too pink lip-gloss smudged around his mouth. Jonghyun gives Key an odd look as his friend looks thoroughly messed, and one of their stylists has a minor breakdown trying to tame the blond strands of hair again.

Thankfully, no one seems to have heard them, despite the fact that neither was really able to hold back entirely. Or if anyone did, no one says a thing. Before they even know it they’re whisked on stage, under the blinding lights, again.

It takes one full song and half of another when Taemin notices something is a little off. He knows Key is always flirty, but there’s a certain edge to it today. As if he’s... as if he’s trying to gain Taemin’s attention with all of those little hair flips and swaying hips.

It’s working. Oh god it’s working.

This is a game that goes both ways, and now it’s Key who looks at Taemin from afar with a teasing glint in his eyes. Now it’s Taemin who feels like he’s about to spontaneously combust if he doesn’t get more more more right now.The blinding lights and cheers can only distract him so much.

This is going to be a long wait.

---
(3720 words)


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what is it with me and all these top!tae feels I think it’s not healthy anymore I have an addiction and I need help :( also my Taeminnie has a potty mouth. …why are my taekey so chatty anyway!? can’t they just fuck and shut the hell up for once.

also is there anyone out there who doesn’t know, by now, that all is well in my world as long as Key gets nailed yep yep. this kinda feels like it's in the same verse as the other taekey of mine but idk.

I feel like I’m getting sick :( my head feels heavy and I’m sleepy all the time.