Owning You - A Na Jaemin Fanfic

83. Of Dreams and Doppelgangers

Dearest Jaemin,

One week, three days and 48 hours till I see you again.

New neighbours moved in today. Into the apartment opposite ours, to be precise. You remember that apartment, Jaemin? It used to house a man, a woman and a tall, skinny boy. That boy turned out to be a horny teenager. He used to peek at us from behind the curtains. "Peek at you, you mean," you would snort. Do you remember the first time we found out he was watching us?

You were shirtless and wearing a blue T shirt and the low-slung sweatpants I've come to love. You had come straight in from jogging. You pressed a bottle of mineral water to your mouth, sipped. Slanting your long body against the desk, you sipped again. You set the bottle on the desk, tugged off your T shirt, tossed it across the room. I heard it land on the bed, slither onto the floor. Your hair was damp. A film of sweat coated your body, and beads of sweat clung to your forehead. You sauntered to the window, scratched your ribs, and stretched, wincing a little. The muscles in your toned stomach moved up, then down.

You turned.

You must have sensed my eyes on you.

Your mouth quirked.

"See something you like, Slick?"

I swallowed.

"Come here," you said softly. You tapped the window lightly. "This window."

You leaned against the window.

I took one, two steps forward. You stood, statue-still, watching me. You didn't move. On the third step, you pulled me to you. Your palm was hot, damp against my own.

You put your hands on my shoulders. I watched the bands of muscle shift in your forearms.

"This window?" I breathed deep. You cupped my face. Ran a finger slowly down my cheek. "Why?" Breathed again.

"This window." There was amusement in your eyes. "Because it's my favourite window."

And then, you were kissing me against our bedroom window.

Your palms and long fingers pressed firmly against the glass. You smelled of sweat and man and heat.

"Jaemin," I moaned, but you only kissed me harder, my throat, my shoulders.

You hoisted me up on your hips, and my legs unravelled from your waist. I heard the low roar of our breaths, as you wrapped your hand around my long hair and pulled my head back, so that it grazed against the glass; it rattled a little when my head thudded against the cold, smooth surface, as you dragged your hot, demanding mouth down my neck.

I wrapped my hands around your neck, holding you there. The curtains whispered against my back. You pressed me harder into the window, using it to fortify me, as you continued to ravage my mouth. With my head tilted back, I watched you through heavy lids. Your beautiful face was flushed, and your eyes were clouded with passion.

"Haeri," you said hoarsely, and again: "Haeri."

We finally broke the kiss, and stayed against the glass for a short time, both catching our breaths.

And then your eyes gazed out the window, and you froze, tensing up.

"Well, I'll be damned," you said softly.

"What?"

"We've got a voyeur," you said, and smirked. "The skinny kid opposite is watching us."

"What????"

I swivelled around, just in time to catch the curtains quivering and a shadow melting away in the apartment opposite.

"Oh, God." I was flailing. "Oh, God. He must be what - fourteen? Fifteen?"