019; time to move on
title time to move on
fandom super junior
pairing kyuhyun/heechul
rating PG-13 for substance use and mentions of sex
a/n two kyuchul's in a week - two stories in a week. i'm proud of myself. inspired by this beautiful weheartit entry.
The sun is just setting, a line of orange on the horizon with green bleeding upwards into purple and blue and eventually black, the stars invisible as the city lights begin to outshine the orbs of gas millions of miles away. His contacts shift from staring too long, vision blurred, and he hastily blinks three thousand times in a second to get everything straight. The stream of smoke escaping the cigarette he didn't take one drag from invades his nostrils and he is met with the bittersweet smell of nicotine and other harmful chemicals. He raises his hand, fingers playing with the curly wisps as he stabs the cancer stick to death on the balcony railing. It's metal, not burning, and the ashes fly away with the smoke as a soft breeze comes in.
His heels are hurting from standing there on his balcony for two and a half hours, just watching the sun and lighting cigarettes he won't smoke from while he drinks cheap champagne and slowly gets drunk. He belches softly, excusing himself to no one, and then Kyuhyun walks out, dressed in nothing but a blanket and a pair of house slippers. Heechul turns, pocketing his hands and resting his back against the sturdy metal keeping him from falling backwards and plummeting to his death.
"Come back inside," the younger asks softly, "it's getting colder." He lifts his hand and expects the almost-drunk to take it.
Wordlessly, - for once Kim Heechul has nothing witty to say (maybe not the first time, he was pretty speechless when the news of Hangeng's death had reached him a few years ago) - Heechul takes the other's hand and pulls him close, his lanky arms wrapping around the younger's waist while his mouth presses slow butterfly kisses along the muscles of Kyuhyun's neck. The singer instinctively wraps his arms around Heechul's shoulders, tilting his head to give him better access. He starts walking backwards and they tumble over the back of the couch only to continue their antics.
As Heechul's fingers are making pictures out of the seed spilled on Kyuhyun's stomach, he imagines what would be different if Hangeng were still here. Instead of Kyuhyun's barely toned and awkwardly angled body, he'd be sitting between muscular thighs and his fingernails would be grazing rock hard abs. Hangeng would have probably forgotten all his Korean and just shouted in his native tongue as Heechul rode him raw, instead of the 4D man being pounded into.
Kyuhyun tells him the cum is starting to dry and his legs are falling asleep so Heechul gets up and grabs a wet washcloth to wipe away the pictures of dirty Chinese characters and the cartoonized lover that was taken away from him. The younger knows how much he misses the Chinaman but he's helping him get through it; he's helping him learn that it's time to move on, learn to love someone else.
fandom super junior
pairing kyuhyun/heechul
rating PG-13 for substance use and mentions of sex
a/n two kyuchul's in a week - two stories in a week. i'm proud of myself. inspired by this beautiful weheartit entry.
The sun is just setting, a line of orange on the horizon with green bleeding upwards into purple and blue and eventually black, the stars invisible as the city lights begin to outshine the orbs of gas millions of miles away. His contacts shift from staring too long, vision blurred, and he hastily blinks three thousand times in a second to get everything straight. The stream of smoke escaping the cigarette he didn't take one drag from invades his nostrils and he is met with the bittersweet smell of nicotine and other harmful chemicals. He raises his hand, fingers playing with the curly wisps as he stabs the cancer stick to death on the balcony railing. It's metal, not burning, and the ashes fly away with the smoke as a soft breeze comes in.
His heels are hurting from standing there on his balcony for two and a half hours, just watching the sun and lighting cigarettes he won't smoke from while he drinks cheap champagne and slowly gets drunk. He belches softly, excusing himself to no one, and then Kyuhyun walks out, dressed in nothing but a blanket and a pair of house slippers. Heechul turns, pocketing his hands and resting his back against the sturdy metal keeping him from falling backwards and plummeting to his death.
"Come back inside," the younger asks softly, "it's getting colder." He lifts his hand and expects the almost-drunk to take it.
Wordlessly, - for once Kim Heechul has nothing witty to say (maybe not the first time, he was pretty speechless when the news of Hangeng's death had reached him a few years ago) - Heechul takes the other's hand and pulls him close, his lanky arms wrapping around the younger's waist while his mouth presses slow butterfly kisses along the muscles of Kyuhyun's neck. The singer instinctively wraps his arms around Heechul's shoulders, tilting his head to give him better access. He starts walking backwards and they tumble over the back of the couch only to continue their antics.
As Heechul's fingers are making pictures out of the seed spilled on Kyuhyun's stomach, he imagines what would be different if Hangeng were still here. Instead of Kyuhyun's barely toned and awkwardly angled body, he'd be sitting between muscular thighs and his fingernails would be grazing rock hard abs. Hangeng would have probably forgotten all his Korean and just shouted in his native tongue as Heechul rode him raw, instead of the 4D man being pounded into.
Kyuhyun tells him the cum is starting to dry and his legs are falling asleep so Heechul gets up and grabs a wet washcloth to wipe away the pictures of dirty Chinese characters and the cartoonized lover that was taken away from him. The younger knows how much he misses the Chinaman but he's helping him get through it; he's helping him learn that it's time to move on, learn to love someone else.