SJ; five little reminders (kangin/sungmin)
Five little reminders.
Kangin/Sungmin; g
Kangin and Sungmin find little reminders of each other, even when they’re apart.
note: first time writing suju in a billion years. Just something really fast I wrote for piratekeira, for her birthday!♥ EDIT: lj stop messing with my coding D:<
(one.)
Sungmin’s sure that Youngwoon thinks he’s insane. He acts like he’s cute all the time and yet he’s stronger than him. He cooks and seems to like cooking, and yet, it’s all an act. Or so he thinks. But Sungmin thinks that Youngwoon is even more crazy than he is. He’s always acting like a tough guy-like he’s some kind of hero. But really, Youngwoon is like a batch of pancakes, with a warm, fluffy inside.
Sometimes Sungmin eats pancakes and he can’t resist stabbing them, just for that reason. He drowns them in syrup and buries them in whipped toppings, and then he slices into them and eats them with big bites. At the end, he’s quite full, but he’s warm and fuzzy inside the same way a hug from Youngwoon would have made him. It really isn’t fair, because by the time he gets to see him again, he’s going to be fat.
(two.)
There’s a longing there, buried in his ribcage, deep down where he can’t pry it out, no matter how hard he digs. Some days its too painful. He’s lived so long pretending that he doesn’t miss Youngwoon’s shoves, or his hugs in the middle of the night. Even before he left, when he was still “Kangin” and would come in at night smelling of alcohol, he would still cuddle him close and bury his nose in his back, smell his shampoo. Sometimes he’d tell him that he smells too much like a girl, and complain about how confusing it is.
But Sungmin liked that more than he likes this. He doesn’t like loneliness. He hates having to stay up all night because he just can’t get to sleep, and no amount of pillows or stuffed animals will ever make up the warmth that’s gone from his side now. Sungmin doesn’t need a lot. He just likes people to be there for him when he needs them. He’s a good pillar, he’s a good stronghold, but he is a human being and that’s what humans are there for. Being there for each other. But not Youngwoon, not anymore.
For all the lonelilness that he has to deal with now, he’s going to beat Youngwoon up for tenfold when he next walks through the dorms of the dorm.
(three.)
Youngwoon can see it all, even when he’s not there to see it. He can see the way Sungmin leans into Kyuhyun’s side on radio shows, or the way he hugs Henry close in fancams. He can see the way he tilts his head to whisper in Shindong’s ear, lips brushing slightly against skin as he does.
And he hates that it has to hurt so much, because he’s not there to stop Sungmin from replacing him somewhere in his heart. He can see it happening, right before his eyes, but when the next morning comes, he’s sent out to do pushups and run laps and conform once more into the life of the army, and he’s once more just a pawn, just a soldier on the battlefield and unable to care about anything (except that he does). It hurts so much that he doesn’t want to care, wants to tear out his heart and leave it at the doorway he had left so long ago now.
He wishes he could have left it behind with the rest of his life, just dumped it with the rest of his problems. Because the main problem is that he can’t dump Sungmin-not like he can dump the rest of his life. Because while nothing else may matter, Sungmin, Super Junior…they matter. And it really, really sucks.
(four.)
Sungmin finds the note crumpled between his bed and the wall one night. He smoothes it out and instantly recognizes Youngwoon’s handwriting, squashed and sloppy. He laughs outright, so hard that he cries and startles Ryeowook when he walks in to ask for his socks. Many reassurances later, he finally picks up his cell phone and texts him.
I want you tonight, too, hyung. he texts, carefully folding the note and hiding it in his coat pocket.
Youngwoon’s text comes at three in the morning, when Sungmin’s sound asleep, holding a pillow to his chest. miss u
(five.)
On his birthday, Sungmin gets a postcard in the mail. The front has a picture of a forest on it, and a walkway, and on the other side is written just a few simple words, distance sucks, but I love you. There’s no name, but Sungmin’s positive from the handwriting of who it is.
He holds it close to his chest for a moment before he holds it against the wall and punches it as hard as he can. When he walks away, Yesung is giving him a queer look. Sungmin just smiles merrily and goes to tape the card to his mirror.
(*)
The next day, he takes a bus to the army barracks Youngwoon is stationed at. He doesn’t bring anything but his wallet. On his way there, he has a change of heart and buys him a coke. Holding it fondly, he takes a seat at the waiting table and waits for Youngwoon to come out.
The Youngwoon that appears before him is not the same one that had walked out the door so long ago. This one has a sense of strength about him that hadn’t been there. A self-assurance that Sungmin’s sure not even years of AA meetings could have given him. If he’d ever believed in the power of the army, it would be now.
They stare at each other awkwardly from across the table for a long time, silent, and then Sungmin pushes the drink towards him. Youngwoon glares hard, and then suddenly bursts into laughter so hard that his shoulders shake. It’s the same overwhelming, consuming laught that sometimes haunts Sungmin’s dreams, and suddenly all the tension is gone.
“Shall I spit this on you, too?” Youngwoon asks with a grin, chuckling at the look of horror that crosses Sungmin’s face. He sits back in his chair and surveys him. “You look the same as always.”
Sungmin laughs, twisting his fingers and releasing them over and over. “You look different, somehow.
Youngwoon’s grin is infectious, “that’s because I’m sexy.” Sungmin punches him in the arm.
It doesn’t take long for that solid contact to become a hug so warm and inviting that Sungmin’s not sure what’ll happen when he lets go, so he doesn’t. He’s suddenly afraid of losing him, again. Afraid that he’ll let go and Youngwoon will disappear and they’ll never see each other again. It makes tears run down his face-how embarrassing.
But Youngwoon just pats him on the back and soothes him, and it’s like he never left at all. Like that long gap of longing and missing hadn’t even happened in the first place. Like nothing else mattered but the two of them, there, in that stupid empty room, forever.
But eventually, they pulled away. And when they did, Sungmin’s eyes were clear. “Hyung, when you get out, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Youngwoon grinned, sticking out his chin in a challenge.
“You can kick my ass, but I’ll win!”
(Sungmin won.)
happy birthday! :D
Kangin/Sungmin; g
Kangin and Sungmin find little reminders of each other, even when they’re apart.
note: first time writing suju in a billion years. Just something really fast I wrote for piratekeira, for her birthday!♥ EDIT: lj stop messing with my coding D:<
(one.)
Sungmin’s sure that Youngwoon thinks he’s insane. He acts like he’s cute all the time and yet he’s stronger than him. He cooks and seems to like cooking, and yet, it’s all an act. Or so he thinks. But Sungmin thinks that Youngwoon is even more crazy than he is. He’s always acting like a tough guy-like he’s some kind of hero. But really, Youngwoon is like a batch of pancakes, with a warm, fluffy inside.
Sometimes Sungmin eats pancakes and he can’t resist stabbing them, just for that reason. He drowns them in syrup and buries them in whipped toppings, and then he slices into them and eats them with big bites. At the end, he’s quite full, but he’s warm and fuzzy inside the same way a hug from Youngwoon would have made him. It really isn’t fair, because by the time he gets to see him again, he’s going to be fat.
(two.)
There’s a longing there, buried in his ribcage, deep down where he can’t pry it out, no matter how hard he digs. Some days its too painful. He’s lived so long pretending that he doesn’t miss Youngwoon’s shoves, or his hugs in the middle of the night. Even before he left, when he was still “Kangin” and would come in at night smelling of alcohol, he would still cuddle him close and bury his nose in his back, smell his shampoo. Sometimes he’d tell him that he smells too much like a girl, and complain about how confusing it is.
But Sungmin liked that more than he likes this. He doesn’t like loneliness. He hates having to stay up all night because he just can’t get to sleep, and no amount of pillows or stuffed animals will ever make up the warmth that’s gone from his side now. Sungmin doesn’t need a lot. He just likes people to be there for him when he needs them. He’s a good pillar, he’s a good stronghold, but he is a human being and that’s what humans are there for. Being there for each other. But not Youngwoon, not anymore.
For all the lonelilness that he has to deal with now, he’s going to beat Youngwoon up for tenfold when he next walks through the dorms of the dorm.
(three.)
Youngwoon can see it all, even when he’s not there to see it. He can see the way Sungmin leans into Kyuhyun’s side on radio shows, or the way he hugs Henry close in fancams. He can see the way he tilts his head to whisper in Shindong’s ear, lips brushing slightly against skin as he does.
And he hates that it has to hurt so much, because he’s not there to stop Sungmin from replacing him somewhere in his heart. He can see it happening, right before his eyes, but when the next morning comes, he’s sent out to do pushups and run laps and conform once more into the life of the army, and he’s once more just a pawn, just a soldier on the battlefield and unable to care about anything (except that he does). It hurts so much that he doesn’t want to care, wants to tear out his heart and leave it at the doorway he had left so long ago now.
He wishes he could have left it behind with the rest of his life, just dumped it with the rest of his problems. Because the main problem is that he can’t dump Sungmin-not like he can dump the rest of his life. Because while nothing else may matter, Sungmin, Super Junior…they matter. And it really, really sucks.
(four.)
Sungmin finds the note crumpled between his bed and the wall one night. He smoothes it out and instantly recognizes Youngwoon’s handwriting, squashed and sloppy. He laughs outright, so hard that he cries and startles Ryeowook when he walks in to ask for his socks. Many reassurances later, he finally picks up his cell phone and texts him.
I want you tonight, too, hyung. he texts, carefully folding the note and hiding it in his coat pocket.
Youngwoon’s text comes at three in the morning, when Sungmin’s sound asleep, holding a pillow to his chest. miss u
(five.)
On his birthday, Sungmin gets a postcard in the mail. The front has a picture of a forest on it, and a walkway, and on the other side is written just a few simple words, distance sucks, but I love you. There’s no name, but Sungmin’s positive from the handwriting of who it is.
He holds it close to his chest for a moment before he holds it against the wall and punches it as hard as he can. When he walks away, Yesung is giving him a queer look. Sungmin just smiles merrily and goes to tape the card to his mirror.
(*)
The next day, he takes a bus to the army barracks Youngwoon is stationed at. He doesn’t bring anything but his wallet. On his way there, he has a change of heart and buys him a coke. Holding it fondly, he takes a seat at the waiting table and waits for Youngwoon to come out.
The Youngwoon that appears before him is not the same one that had walked out the door so long ago. This one has a sense of strength about him that hadn’t been there. A self-assurance that Sungmin’s sure not even years of AA meetings could have given him. If he’d ever believed in the power of the army, it would be now.
They stare at each other awkwardly from across the table for a long time, silent, and then Sungmin pushes the drink towards him. Youngwoon glares hard, and then suddenly bursts into laughter so hard that his shoulders shake. It’s the same overwhelming, consuming laught that sometimes haunts Sungmin’s dreams, and suddenly all the tension is gone.
“Shall I spit this on you, too?” Youngwoon asks with a grin, chuckling at the look of horror that crosses Sungmin’s face. He sits back in his chair and surveys him. “You look the same as always.”
Sungmin laughs, twisting his fingers and releasing them over and over. “You look different, somehow.
Youngwoon’s grin is infectious, “that’s because I’m sexy.” Sungmin punches him in the arm.
It doesn’t take long for that solid contact to become a hug so warm and inviting that Sungmin’s not sure what’ll happen when he lets go, so he doesn’t. He’s suddenly afraid of losing him, again. Afraid that he’ll let go and Youngwoon will disappear and they’ll never see each other again. It makes tears run down his face-how embarrassing.
But Youngwoon just pats him on the back and soothes him, and it’s like he never left at all. Like that long gap of longing and missing hadn’t even happened in the first place. Like nothing else mattered but the two of them, there, in that stupid empty room, forever.
But eventually, they pulled away. And when they did, Sungmin’s eyes were clear. “Hyung, when you get out, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Youngwoon grinned, sticking out his chin in a challenge.
“You can kick my ass, but I’ll win!”
(Sungmin won.)
happy birthday! :D