Katrinawritesthings
Summary: taemin has a nice booty
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It happens a few minutes after Jonghyun leaves Taemin leaning against the railing in front of the ice cream shop alone ("Forgot my wallet, just wait here, gorgeous," he'd said, tapping Taemin's nose with a wink and leaving him feeling exasperated yet oddly flattered as he watched him jog back down the boardwalk).
It's three things, actually; a wolf whistle, a sad attempt at a suave, "Hey baby," and a slap on the ass. He sighs deeply as obnoxious laughter and approving comments drift from the group of backwards snapbacks and stale sex lives behind him. It hasn't even been a week since the last time. He just doesn't understand some people. Ahh, well. This is always an experience.
"Excuse me?" he turns around to face the group of boys behind him and leans his elbows on the railing, taking in their stunned and confused faces. He can't blame them; he made his voice as deep as possible on purpose. It's his favorite way to fuck with rude people like them. He hides a smirk while the group of four or so all nudge each other and mutter, squinting at him like he has an extra head or something. He can almost feel their "no homo" alarms going off. He crosses one leg in front of the other and raises a cool eyebrow as more time passes with no answer. "Do I know you?" he prompts. Cue more squinting and muttering, and a collective nudge against one with a "cool story babe" shirt that Taemin supposes is the one that just slapped him.
"Uh," he says, "No?"
"Then why was your hand just on my ass?" he asks, quickly enough to throw them off, but not so quick that he sounds anything but casual. He wouldn't want to trigger any unnecessary displays of dominance. It does the trick; they look shifty and one even scratches his head in confusion. The one that answered seems to collect himself enough to give Taemin a shitty, half-assed shrug and a smirk.
"Uh, sorry bro, I thought you were a chick," he says, and some of his friends nod with identical smirks. Taemin raises his other eyebrow, not a amused as they are.
"So what you're saying is, if I were a woman, it would have been fine for you to invade my personal space and sexually harass me?"
Ahh, yes, now they're confused. Their leader opens his mouth, closes it, frowns, and opens it again.
"Why are you wearing girl clothes?" he demands. Taemin barely represses a snort–alright, daisy dukes, a yellow tank, sandals and his favorite floppy hat might not be the most masculine combination of clothes, but that's rather beside the point in his opinion.
"Well, one, I wasn't aware that clothes had genders, two, I don't know what my clothes have to do with you being a creepy invasive fuck, and three, because they make me look hot," he says smoothly. He's got nice legs, a nice ass–a nice everything, to be honest–plus he looks good in yellow. The boys are pulling faces now, looking both incredulous and disgusted. He rolls his eyes. The audacityof him, being confident outside of gender roles. "I'm getting a strong feeling that you don't think I'm hot," he says, almost pouting but deciding against it, liking the whole casual disdain thing he's got going on, "but I'm pretty certain that two minutes ago, you wanted to fuck me. So how does that work out now?"
Apparently, it works out with a surge of denial and half-assed excuses. Taemin blinks blandly at their angry faces. Too easy.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, you little f–"
"Who's this Taeminnie, new friends?"
Oh, just in time. Taemin turns casually to find Jonghyun's arm–his bare, very muscled arm–halfway around his waist. He grins broadly. Jonghyun was definitely wearing more than just a loose tank when he left a few minutes ago. He can see Jonghyun's tshirt dangling from his back pocket, and he can also see the group of guys warily eyeing Jonghyun's muscles. He loves little perks like these that come with having Jonghyun as his boyfriend.
"I was just talking to these lovely boys about why they felt the need to slap my ass, honey," he says sweetly, loving the way a couple of the boys take an obvious step back when Jonghyun turns sharply to look at them with one of the most menacingly fake smiles Taemin has ever seen.
"They slapped your ass?" he asks, raising a brow, and he's doing that thing he does where he tenses up oh so casually, so the boys aren't sure if he's actually flexing or not. He can see that they're doing that shifty, shady muttering thing again, so he bounces happily and clasps his hands behind his back, the picture of perfectly innocent naievity.
"Oh, but it's okay, sweetie, because they thought I was a woman," he says brightly. "And we all know that women don't deserve such silly things like respect and a life free from sexual harassment, right?"
It's almost cute, how suddenly the boys start shuffling backwards and mumbling things about being late or having places to go when Jonghyun's face turns hard. Taemin knows how he hates people like these four–and Jonghyun certainly isn't shy about it either. It's probably for the best that the boys are so weak when confronted with the unfamiliar. Jonghyun frowns after them as they swagger down the boardwalk like they didn't just run away from a little show of muscle, then turns back to Taemin and raises his eyebrows. Taemin grins and shrugs, turning back around to lean on the railing and watch the beach again.
"I could've taken them," he says, and Jonghyun snorts, leaning next to him and letting their shoulders bump.
"You should've acted flirty with them, I love when they get all flustered," he grins. Laughing and leaning back, Taemin grabs Jonghyun's shirt out of his pocket and throws it at his face.
"Maybe next time," he says, waiting for Jonghyun's head to pop out of the collar before pulling him into the ice cream shop.
