001: Freefall / 022 : Diamonds
You’re pushed from the plane with the others before you can offer a remark on the sanity of the show’s writers, and you think you’d like to scream, but your throat has closed and it’s not in your nature to scream in fear. Hell, you don’t think it’s in your nature to fear at all; crazy fans and sleepless nights staring at lyrics that just won’t stick in your mind have taught you to brush it off like you brush off Heechul’s vanity.
There is screaming though, all around you, quickly whipped away by the wind but not before it reaches your ears; you hear Eunhyuk, surprisingly Kibum, and a few others besides. Heechul’s shouting obscenities as loudly as he can, arms and legs eagle spread like he can catch the sky between his fingers.
A hand takes your wrist; Eeteuk, the esteemed leader who happens to be laughing his ass off, struggling to stay next to you. He’s smiling so widely his eyes are almost slits against the wind, his dimples showing deep in his cheeks. “Scream,” he mouths, and you scowl, shake your head, “Are you crazy?” shouted about the roar of the wind in your ears. He laughs again, angling his body so that he falls faster, pulling you behind him.
You feel a scream bubbling in your throat, watching that ground rushing up to meet you, and despite what everybody will tease later, lets the sound pull itself from your vocal cords, tearing into the blue sky, out and away like a baby bird’s first flight.
022. Diamonds; Sungmin/Kibum
Staring is rude, Kibum knows, but sometimes you don’t know you’re staring, and sometimes by the time you realize it you don’t want to stop. He rubs his glass between his palms, between his knees, almost-sprawled on the couch in the way he hasn’t sprawled since he was exposed to laughing gas.
There’s a party in full swing around him, the ones that Super Junior has sometimes, for no reason but the joy that small freedom brings (at least until the morning when they have hangovers pounding painfully at their skulls, the holes in their memory something to laugh at from the ones who do remember), and Kibum downs his seventh glass, but that’s alright; he can hold his alcohol.
Kangin, Donghae and Yesung are seeing who can pants Eunhyuk the most before the night is through, but, Kibum thinks, watching a red-faced Eunhyuk with his hands protectively over his crotch struggle by with his pants at his ankles and three men clutching drunkenly at the cloth of his boxers, it’s not like any of them will remember in the morning.
Kibum turns his gaze back. Sungmin and Ryeowook are downing bottles like water, splashing more of it over their heads than gets into their mouths, swaying and laughing over nothing at all. Kibum wants to get up and kiss the droplets (like coloured diamonds on Sungmin’s skin) away.
But it’s not like either of them will remember in the morning.
There is screaming though, all around you, quickly whipped away by the wind but not before it reaches your ears; you hear Eunhyuk, surprisingly Kibum, and a few others besides. Heechul’s shouting obscenities as loudly as he can, arms and legs eagle spread like he can catch the sky between his fingers.
A hand takes your wrist; Eeteuk, the esteemed leader who happens to be laughing his ass off, struggling to stay next to you. He’s smiling so widely his eyes are almost slits against the wind, his dimples showing deep in his cheeks. “Scream,” he mouths, and you scowl, shake your head, “Are you crazy?” shouted about the roar of the wind in your ears. He laughs again, angling his body so that he falls faster, pulling you behind him.
You feel a scream bubbling in your throat, watching that ground rushing up to meet you, and despite what everybody will tease later, lets the sound pull itself from your vocal cords, tearing into the blue sky, out and away like a baby bird’s first flight.
022. Diamonds; Sungmin/Kibum
Staring is rude, Kibum knows, but sometimes you don’t know you’re staring, and sometimes by the time you realize it you don’t want to stop. He rubs his glass between his palms, between his knees, almost-sprawled on the couch in the way he hasn’t sprawled since he was exposed to laughing gas.
There’s a party in full swing around him, the ones that Super Junior has sometimes, for no reason but the joy that small freedom brings (at least until the morning when they have hangovers pounding painfully at their skulls, the holes in their memory something to laugh at from the ones who do remember), and Kibum downs his seventh glass, but that’s alright; he can hold his alcohol.
Kangin, Donghae and Yesung are seeing who can pants Eunhyuk the most before the night is through, but, Kibum thinks, watching a red-faced Eunhyuk with his hands protectively over his crotch struggle by with his pants at his ankles and three men clutching drunkenly at the cloth of his boxers, it’s not like any of them will remember in the morning.
Kibum turns his gaze back. Sungmin and Ryeowook are downing bottles like water, splashing more of it over their heads than gets into their mouths, swaying and laughing over nothing at all. Kibum wants to get up and kiss the droplets (like coloured diamonds on Sungmin’s skin) away.
But it’s not like either of them will remember in the morning.