Black Rose ~ A Taemin Fic Pt. 2

Chapter 23

    I breathe into the moves, arching further, caving my shoulders in deeper. "Not Over You" fades out, my voice sounding like the remains of a cry through the empty wood. I can feel the loneliness in both my voice and dance. I wait, unsure of what's to play next. When "Heaven" comes on, and his voice fills the space, it reminds me of when we were fighting during this song last time. The tension on stage was palpable enough to gain the amount of online attention that we received.

    His fans called us "dark romantics" and "the right person wrong time couple" for a bit. Now, I'm constantly gaining attention for being six years younger than him. It's fun to watch the people praise me for it, but not so much when the Japanese viewers speak about me like I'm not one of them, like I don't deserve to be.

    I don't think as my body moves, as I dance with the dust and air as my partner. I fill my chest with the song, my sternum ascending to heaven. I duck forward, feining a stumble before pushing myself to the ground. I turn with the beat, performing the arm movements by memory, by touch.

    I don't hear the door shut behind me. I don't look back up at the wall of mirrors until I feel him. He's sat behind me, arms snaking up to mine as they bend lazily for the sky. My chest shutters with exhale, his head curving over my shoulder where his lips ghost over my neck. I give into the motion, closing my eyes and twisting my neck to the left and back.

    We say nothing as the second verse starts, our arms performing the next series of moves. I flank myself on the floor, lying on my stomach before kicking back once to bring me to my knees. It's there where he stands in position to drag a hand beneath my chin as I gaze achingly up at him. I look like an acolyte to the martyr.

    It's tragically beautiful, the way our bodies move like waves in the ocean, flowing with another and only crashing to become one.

    At the prechorus, I take the quick steps towards him, stopping just as we're inches apart. I can almost hear the screams in the crowd as our tension leaked on stage. This time, insteading of stopping there, his hands reach for my waist, not afraid to grab. I respond like a beck and call, palming his chest through his black t-shirt, lips parting with want.

    He scoops me up into his arms, never showing up in the choreo, but he still takes the spin and three steps to our next position. I hold he face as he twirls like a twister, each palm planted on my ass.

    We're so lost in the music, lost in ourselves. He sets me down, not removing his eyes from me as he perform the footwork, rolling our bodies from left to right with such seduction it isn't long before we're back on the floor, crawling towards each other to the rhythm.

    "I won't," he says, eyes heavy as our lips fight to kiss but manage to stay apart.

    I scoff. "Do it," I dare. I'm on all fours as I get close enough to push him back on his ass, his hands flying back to support him in an upright position.

    He gently shakes his head whilst whispering, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

    "Shut up and fuck me." He breaks character as his teeth poke through, his lips dragging over mine, still fighting. "That is what you came here to do, right?"

    "I wanted to apologize," he reassures, the bridge belting throughout the room enough to feel it in my heart like a second pulse.

     "Fuck me before I change my mind." I'm still angry, no doubt, but he's here, dancing with me, and our bodies are pulling together like magnets. I can't resist that tug to him as the distance gets shorter and shorter.

     When our mouths finally seal the gap, it's like a firework show. He regains control, pinning me to the cool, studio floor. I moan into his mouth, prompting him to travel to my jaw, neck, and chest. My shoulders lift me up and closer to him, my hands going to my shirt as I pull it up and over my head. He does the same, chucking his tshirt before going back down to me and engaging me in more long, sloppy kisses.

     "Fuck, I'm so lucky," he muffles into my skin as the last chorus rings out. His hands palm my bra, playing with the lace before undoing the clip in the middle. He pries the fabric open, kissing the tender skin with care and going to my stomach. I moan again, eyes tightly shut. I feel more than watch as his hands hold my hips, fingers digging around the hem. My pants are down and off in no time.

     I hear him use a hand to pull down his sweat pants, then his underwear. His face flies back up to me, giving us a moment to gaze into each other's heated faces with desperation. "Yes?" he asks, using his hips to open me wider.

     I don't break contact as I murmur, "Yes," in response. His lips wobble once as he pulls a tight grin before kissing me openly one last time. I bathe in this kiss, moving rhythmically to the next song: Flame of Love. He rubs over my entrance throughout the kiss. Without warning, he pushes and my mouth flies open, my head dipping back at the same time.

     "Fuck!" I gasp, his lips immediately falling to my neck for comfort as he pulls out and pushes in again. Each push earns a squeak from me, the sound like a reward for him. "Yes," I say again, stretching back and rocking my hips with him, hoping to feel him even deeper.

     He curses huskily, his one hand pushing on my pelvic bone to keep me steady. Thanks to the sweat on my back, I don't slide or wiggle away with each quickening thrust. My head hits the floor, at the same time I turn to watch in the mirror. It's enough to jumpstart my pulse, the bundling of nerves tickling every inch of skin.

     "Taemin–"

     "I know, sweetheart." With a steady, driving force, he coaxes me further, his face contorting with pain and pleasure the closer he gets. At once, my body shrivels and ruptures like voltage searching for a current to cling onto.    Seconds later, he follows.

    It's brief, it's fulfilling, it's what I've been missing.

    He pulls away, situating himself while I continue lying there, finding comfort in my own reflection. In the back of my mind, this image of us is perfect. Knowing everything, I know it's a false persona, one that the version of me from weeks ago would've bathed in.

    "I love you."

    "I know you do," I reply.

    "Well, that's disheartening." I turn my head, gazing up at him kneeling beside me, his hand reaching for his tossed shirt. As he puts it back in, he chooses his next words with calculation. "Yuki, I feel terrible. I can't–I can't tell you, for reasons, what exactly is going on, but you need to trust me on this."

    I nod slowly, remembering the "compromise" part of a marriage. Without another thought, I say simply, "I know." I scoff at my own words. "I mean, I don't know, but...I wish you would trust me, Taemin."

    "I do, baby. I promise I will fix this."

    I sit up, drifting my head to the side in thought. He leans close, pressing a kiss to my temple before saying, "I don't want you to be afraid, but there is some conflict happening right now. I need you to trust that whoever is behind it will be punished soon. I know–" he pauses, "I know how much those songs mean to you."

    Twisting my mouth to the side, I can't wrap my head around anything. With Baekhyun still in the picture thanks to Sohyun, I'm not sure how to go about my conflict either. 'Do I tell him? Tell him what, though? That I kissed him best friend from missing him so much? Is that even a valid excuse?'

    "What're you thinking about?" He asks, grabbing my pants and slowly angling my legs through each sleeve. I help him pull them back on, clipping my bra back in place at the same time.

    Earnestly, I say, "I'll tell you if you tell me."

    My stern expression must take him by surprise because he just barely cocks his head before sighing deeply. "Yuki–"

    I get up, picking up my shirt from the ground as I do so. "Then forget I asked," I say behind me, walking towards the door. The music stopped awhile go, I realize. The house is empty again. The dogs hurriedly run around my feet as I flee for the stairs.

    For the first time today, I don't hear him chasing me back.