Tight Leather

15: Weak [END]

[Well slap my ass and call me Shirley it's the very last chapter. I've really enjoyed writing this fan fiction for many different reasons, but I would have to say the main reason was because of the overwhelmingly positive feedback I received from my friends. Plus, this also gave me a reason to rewatch Jjong and Taemin's Internet War Fan Cam.

Technically this story has already finished, but to make sure there is nothing left up in the air, here is a little extra between Jjong and Taemin.

Lmao this chapter isn't about Minho, but have this because I found it.]

August 20th 2009

Taemin's POV:

His tanned forehead was glistening under the spotlights, with each bead of sweat sliding down his sculptured face and eventually dripping on to the stage floor. He was an egnima; after a year and a half of knowing one another, I still couldn't figure Kim Jonghyun out.

He was an emotional man; he was sensitive and was able to match your feelings and needs. He cried whenever his family had to leave for their home after a short visit and always remembered to buy the family dog, Roo, a selection of grain-free food for when they brought her with them.

But there was also a darker side to Jjong. He could be vicious and horrid when he wanted to be. He could become easily annoyed at people and sometimes ended up scaring fans.

His emotions fluctuate between positive and negative and yet, I find myself drawn to him, like a dog is to a biscuit. There is something about his sensual gaze. The power that he possesses, both professionally and personally, is unfathomably gigantic.

However, I'm yet to tap into this gold mine of mood swings and tight leather. I was doing my best to focus on thr moves I had practiced for the past three months, but Jjong's restrictive trousers and sweating torso kept pulling me from my place. I always found myself casually touching him on stage, knowing full well that I was told not to.

But I'm just a kid and he's my candy store.

While we were performing 'Lucifer', a song with choreography that is very much solo, I would continuously wandered over to Jjong and slide my index finger from his left shoulder to his right, leaving an invisible line on the top of his back. Other times, I would dance closer to him, with the main part of our bodies touching.

I could see the frustration in his eyes, but I didn't care. If anything, it made me want to feel him more. The craving for his body was strong and I had to pull myself away before the concert was cancelled for explicit scenes.

The conversation I had shared with Key was floating around in my mind the entire time we were performing. How he had said to find Jjong's sexual weakess and exploit it. I was coming up with various scenarios in my head, all of which were eighteen plus.

After we had said our final goodbyes and we had dragged Minho off of the stage, I was side swiped into Jjong's dressing room, where all of his outfits were hung up on a long, metal railing. As of this moment, he was sporting jet black leather trousers, heavy Doc Marten boots, several earrings and an ludicrously damp tank top (where Jjong had obviously sweat). He looked so attractive.

"What the fuck were you playing at on stage? You nearly tripped Minho up when we were performing 'Ring Ding Dong'!"

Jjong was yelling as I could see these angry veins stand up on his strong neck. His eyes were burning, as if there was a fire trapped inside him. His brown hair was stuck to his face, with one in particular touching his bottom lip.

Be assertive, Taemin. Take control.

Slowly walking towards him, I removed my cherry red leather jacket from my body and let it drop to the floor. Jjong was waiting for me to reply, to give an answer to his question, but I had no intention of doing so.