Roadside
Title: Roadside
Characters: Hangeng/Yesung
Author: ElmersGlue128
Rating: NC-17
Length: one-shot
Words: 2,411
Dedicated: to omgorgasm. Omg, I love you so much that I *attempted* YeHan with a side of smut. It didn’t turn out slutty though, ha. *rolls over and dies* You totally brainwashed me, evil bitch.
Summary: Hangeng bumps heads with Yesung, literally, and they fall for each other.
Notes: It came out...random. :D Still trying to finesse the characterization.
Two years ago.
“You look like you’ve starve for days. I can see the desperate hunger in your eyes, kid. You’re gonna die on the streets like this, wanna try your luck?”
Hangeng studies the menacing group of gangsters staring down at him, some as young as he is except their eyes are as hardened as their tough exterior from living in this rundown desolate area. Noticing the half-eaten sandwiches in some of their hands and the smell of food sends drool to the edges of his mouth that he’s barely able to swallow back.
Nodding immediately, his fingers tremble in anticipation as one’s placed into his hands and he ravenously devours the sandwich not even stopping to really swallow as he shoves it down his throat.
“A fucking animal! Keep that hungry look in your eyes, kid, and welcome to your future.”
-
A year ago.
“Sorry, I’m already closing down for the night,” Yesung announces apologetically, frazzled from working since morning to midnight and distracted as he turns his back to the group to continue cleaning up.
Startled, his head jerks back around to see already a second one of his plastic chairs come crashing by his feet before making true eye contact and realizing the intimidating hooligans snapping gum arrogantly in their mouths.
“I-I’m sorry,” Yesung utters nervously, feeling himself closed in against his little noodle stand by the road and it’s a deserted one since it’s already one in the morning, “I’m totally out of everything.”
He winces when one of his tables is flipped over and all of the condiments come crashing down one by one along with utensils. Roughly, he’s shoved aside and left to watch numbly in shock as everything is mauled and ravaged right in front of him. Impeding dread paralyzes him to one frozen spot as they finish terrorizing before each taking turns smacking him playfully against his cheek as they turn to leave advising him to pay closer attention next time.
His knees are knobby and weak as he bends down to start the tedious job of cleaning up, feeling stupid for not recognizing trouble from the beginning. Another set of hands help him turn furniture right side up and stacking them neatly in various piles causing Yesung to frown suspiciously at the returned gangster seemingly remorseful as he helps. Yesung’s even more scared of accidentally saying something that will piss the guy off and causing even more damage so he says quiet while the two of them work side by side to finish packing up.
Clearing his throat, Hangeng wipes the dust from hands and waits for the other to finally look at him hesitantly, “I’m sorry about earlier, the guys got way out of control since they’ve been drinking the last few hours.”
“Thanks,” Yesung answers with wide eyes momentarily distracted before hunching down once again searching the ground for something he’d forgotten until now.
The other crouches down too and peeks around, “What are you looking for?”
“This-ow!” Yesung falls back onto his butt with one arm wrapped around a jar and the other hand rubbing his forehead, peering over at the other doing the same thing after their accidental head collision.
Hangeng lets out a laugh as he sees the kimchi jar the other one’s holding so tightly, “Is that what was so important? You must really love food.”
“That’s just the outside wrapper,” Yesung clarifies with a wide grin, excitedly shaking it so the coins inside jingle, “One day, this is going to be enough money for a restaurant far away from here.”
“It sounds really empty,” Hangeng comments, amusement gracing his kind-natured features.
Nodding in agreement, Yesung forlornly looks down at his jar, “I was bored so I used most of it to buy a turtle. Now I’m even more bored.”
-
Two months ago.
The blood on Hangeng’s hand oozes across his knuckles and drips onto his old running shoes, soaking through his white cotton socks with holes littered at the toes. Stale vomit sticks like little flakes to the front of his shirt sticky against the dirty, filthy sweat oozing from his skin. Strands of hair fall over the edges of his eyes and send a nervous twitch down his arm to the unsteady pocket knife in his palm.
His collapse to his knees, kneeling at the face of death, burns and blurs his eyesight followed by sound like falling into a void to contrast the sharp note of despicable consciousness resiliently hanging on. Each heartbeat, each pump taunting to burst out of his chest sends bitter bile up his esophagus mixing with his saliva until he pushes it down with a rough swallow.
His legs drag against the cold concrete and clunk down each step, the handrail rickety against his touch and he retracts to his pockets. The cigarette between his chapped lips, with the first cloud of smoke harsh against his heaving lungs, becomes his wicked salvation. Purposeful movements take him on a familiar path down a beaten road lit by the lights from the only noodle stand still open after midnight.
The uncomfortable little plastic red chairs and he instinctively grabs the only one without a wobbly leg, finally able to slump his elbows on the tabletop and breathe in the familiar aroma floating by in little wafts. His fingers tap to a random tune, playfully light, until the quick pull of the cigarette out of his mouth stops him completely as he looks up just in time to watch it being dropped to the ground as it fizzes out weakly. His swollen left eye sags a little further when he leans forward and thrillingly peeks at the hot bowl of noodles just a mere distance from his reach.
Yesung plops down right next to him, a light sigh as he wipes his hands on his dirty apron, and he grabs a fresh towel and dips it in warm water before gently dabbing at the other’s bloody face. Intermittently eating and flinching as he sucks in cold air, the eager smile Hangeng offers is met with a chaste kiss and a harmless shove against the shoulder.
“Why do you look like this?” Yesung asks and his little shoulders sag as he rests his face in the palms of his hands, “Don't do this anymore.”
“I think the other guy’s fists just liked me too much,” Hangeng answers with a smile, dropping a crumbled pile of paper bills onto the table from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I won.”
Yesung reluctantly gathers the money into a neat pile, pausing a second before he looks sideways again nervously, “The other man…is he dead?”
“…I don’t think so,” Hangeng says in a soft voice and the headache comes pounding back again.
“I-I love you,” Yesung utters suddenly because he notices the other’s exhausted grimace and scrambles back to his feet immediately, cleaning up the other chairs and tables for the night pretending to be distracted.
His movements are absent-minded and clumsy, the glass jar hugged to Yesung’s chest comes to a dramatic crash into a million shards against the old concrete road and cascading everywhere. Dollar bills and little coins he picks back up one by one placing them in his apron pockets, glad it’s too late for customers to still be stopping by. There isn’t much to collect, he’s already done when Hangeng starts sweeping up the mess humming a tune as Yesung drops all the money into a new jar.
They both sit down and stare at it, staring hopefully at each other.
-
Today.
Hangeng gets up a bit more sluggishly while his lean body cranks back into motion like an exhausted machine and nudges the other playfully as he helps to push the food cart further down the street to their home.
A shaky light bulb dully illuminates their barren room, the both of them spreading out blankets onto the floor and Yesung starts distractedly brushing his teeth over their one sink staring blankly at the peeling paint on the discolored wall in front of him. He doesn’t even realize the toothbrush is at a standstill just sticking out from his mouth with his arms down at his sides and his mind drifting elsewhere.
Until Hangeng grabs ahold of the toothbrush handle and continues brushing with one hand while his free one rests against the other’s knuckles and lacing their fingers together. Letting out a sheepish laugh, Yesung snaps fully back to reality just in time to take a swallow-full of water from the cup brought to his mouth before spitting it back out. He turns around to face Hangeng, tiny bits of foam peeking out at the corners of his mouth and he flutters his eyes shut as they kiss.
“You taste minty,” Hangeng responses against the other’s lips, pulling back and using his thumb to wipe away the foam with slow swipes.
Yesung’s eyes instead can’t help but focus on the ripped and bloodstained gray sweatshirt before him, his eyebrows furrowing in worry, “Can you let me see?”
Hesitantly, Hangeng takes off his jacket and pulls the layers over his head before making a careful pile on a chair. His back turned around momentarily as he’s doing so and Yesung blanches slightly at the bluish-purple bruises overlapped by angry cuts. Hangeng can feel the other’s reaction already without turning around and his palms slump onto the table top while he exhales the soreness from his body.
Softly placing a small hand on the other’s shoulder blade, Yesung says in a whisper, “Does it hurt a lot?”
“I’m good,” Hangeng grins deceivingly carefree finally turned around, resting his arms comfortably on the other’s hips and bringing them closer together, “Are you doing okay?”
Not wanting to lie or utter insecure words that brings them both down, Yesung leans in closer and kisses the other harder than he means to but he gets an equally strong response in return with his hips pulled completely in so the rough fabrics of their jeans press up enticingly. Hangeng’s forearms hug across Yesung’s lower back underneath his shirt and slide upwards resting parallel to the crevice line along the base of his spine to the edge of his neck. Naturally Yesung raises his arms and allows the top to become a lump casted aside, willingly falling back onto the blankets on the floor pulling the other down with him.
They land with a muted thump and Hangeng slips the palm of his hand along the other’s fleshy stomach tracing across a bellybutton on his way downwards to the front of the pants. Yesung lets out a quick breath, licking a dragging wet tongue drawing a line along the other’s collarbone and touching his cheek fondly against his claimed spot against the nape of Hangeng’s neck. Smushing his lips against taunt skin and continuing his trail, he showers special attention to the intimate spot along the sternum with butterfly kisses feeling the settling sensation of a steady calm breathing above him.
Sidetracked to the left, Yesung sucks on a pinkish nipple until it turns hard in his mouth and whimpers when a firm hand moves under his boxer briefs not even realizing until now that his jeans are already pooled by his ankles. He uses the heels of his feet to kick them the rest of the way off and fumbles an extra second before the other’s pants are also unbuttoned and everything dragged hastily off.
Hissing inwardly, Hangeng relishes their naked bodies stacked on top of each other’s and the constant rub of their growing erections teasing his senses to a mounting anxiety like suffocating adrenaline streamlining through him. The resounding aches all over his limbs dissipates easily to the back of his mind, his hair briefly integrating into the other’s bangs as he dips downwards so their noses are touching and he tips his face to the side so his lips brush against a small chin before encapsulating Yesung’s innocent expression with his mouth and their tongues graze imploringly for each other’s familiar taste.
Hangeng’s grip on the other’s cock firms up and he runs his fingers in slow, tight strokes fondling the head with his thumb each time he moves down while his free hand gropes the blankets until he grabs ahold of a plastic tube. His fingers are thoroughly slickened with pre-cum and he knows Yesung is dangerously close to the edge from the way the other’s peering pleadingly at him through half-lidded eyes, husky grunts vibrating from the back of the throat reaches his ears shooting straight down to his groin causing his cock to throb so much it almost hurts. Squeezing lube into his palm, Hangeng coats himself generously and showers a few kisses on the other’s soft inner thighs before gradually entering the tight hole that willingly accumulates the stretch into a snug embrace.
His thrusts fall into a steady rocking and the tip of his cock already knows the exact spot to slam against that sends rough shivers through the other’s entire body, his hand back to relentlessly rubbing the other’s cock as raspy moans becomes frantically loud and needy. Hangeng’s hips hits harder with each plunge, ravishing in the searing heat trapping him into a tight corner of consuming ecstasy as he chokes out gratified noises continuously even more turned on by the milky liquid squirting out all over his fingers and knuckles as the other shudders with balled-up fists laid out on either side tightly gripping the blankets.
Yesung’s lessening whimpers are still continuing as he eases out from the pounding euphoria of his orgasm and his breathing is still hitched while Hangeng’s next few thrusts causes spasms to spring out like fireworks from his groin expanding outwards through his limbs before crashing back down to his cock again all at once. His cum spilling out as his grunts becomes loud gasps for air trying to catch his breath from the heavy rush crashing through him, the surreal sensation like he’s tingling from head to toe.
He settles down so their sweaty bodies are as together as possible, touching their lips into a lingering kiss morphing into smiles smack dab against each other. They don't care that they’re in a cramped room with peeling walls and a wobbly dull light bulb as they doze off in each other’s arms.
The turtle stares blankly from his container on the table, looking bored. Every freakin’ night.
Fin.
Characters: Hangeng/Yesung
Author: ElmersGlue128
Rating: NC-17
Length: one-shot
Words: 2,411
Dedicated: to omgorgasm. Omg, I love you so much that I *attempted* YeHan with a side of smut. It didn’t turn out slutty though, ha. *rolls over and dies* You totally brainwashed me, evil bitch.
Summary: Hangeng bumps heads with Yesung, literally, and they fall for each other.
Notes: It came out...random. :D Still trying to finesse the characterization.
Two years ago.
“You look like you’ve starve for days. I can see the desperate hunger in your eyes, kid. You’re gonna die on the streets like this, wanna try your luck?”
Hangeng studies the menacing group of gangsters staring down at him, some as young as he is except their eyes are as hardened as their tough exterior from living in this rundown desolate area. Noticing the half-eaten sandwiches in some of their hands and the smell of food sends drool to the edges of his mouth that he’s barely able to swallow back.
Nodding immediately, his fingers tremble in anticipation as one’s placed into his hands and he ravenously devours the sandwich not even stopping to really swallow as he shoves it down his throat.
“A fucking animal! Keep that hungry look in your eyes, kid, and welcome to your future.”
-
A year ago.
“Sorry, I’m already closing down for the night,” Yesung announces apologetically, frazzled from working since morning to midnight and distracted as he turns his back to the group to continue cleaning up.
Startled, his head jerks back around to see already a second one of his plastic chairs come crashing by his feet before making true eye contact and realizing the intimidating hooligans snapping gum arrogantly in their mouths.
“I-I’m sorry,” Yesung utters nervously, feeling himself closed in against his little noodle stand by the road and it’s a deserted one since it’s already one in the morning, “I’m totally out of everything.”
He winces when one of his tables is flipped over and all of the condiments come crashing down one by one along with utensils. Roughly, he’s shoved aside and left to watch numbly in shock as everything is mauled and ravaged right in front of him. Impeding dread paralyzes him to one frozen spot as they finish terrorizing before each taking turns smacking him playfully against his cheek as they turn to leave advising him to pay closer attention next time.
His knees are knobby and weak as he bends down to start the tedious job of cleaning up, feeling stupid for not recognizing trouble from the beginning. Another set of hands help him turn furniture right side up and stacking them neatly in various piles causing Yesung to frown suspiciously at the returned gangster seemingly remorseful as he helps. Yesung’s even more scared of accidentally saying something that will piss the guy off and causing even more damage so he says quiet while the two of them work side by side to finish packing up.
Clearing his throat, Hangeng wipes the dust from hands and waits for the other to finally look at him hesitantly, “I’m sorry about earlier, the guys got way out of control since they’ve been drinking the last few hours.”
“Thanks,” Yesung answers with wide eyes momentarily distracted before hunching down once again searching the ground for something he’d forgotten until now.
The other crouches down too and peeks around, “What are you looking for?”
“This-ow!” Yesung falls back onto his butt with one arm wrapped around a jar and the other hand rubbing his forehead, peering over at the other doing the same thing after their accidental head collision.
Hangeng lets out a laugh as he sees the kimchi jar the other one’s holding so tightly, “Is that what was so important? You must really love food.”
“That’s just the outside wrapper,” Yesung clarifies with a wide grin, excitedly shaking it so the coins inside jingle, “One day, this is going to be enough money for a restaurant far away from here.”
“It sounds really empty,” Hangeng comments, amusement gracing his kind-natured features.
Nodding in agreement, Yesung forlornly looks down at his jar, “I was bored so I used most of it to buy a turtle. Now I’m even more bored.”
-
Two months ago.
The blood on Hangeng’s hand oozes across his knuckles and drips onto his old running shoes, soaking through his white cotton socks with holes littered at the toes. Stale vomit sticks like little flakes to the front of his shirt sticky against the dirty, filthy sweat oozing from his skin. Strands of hair fall over the edges of his eyes and send a nervous twitch down his arm to the unsteady pocket knife in his palm.
His collapse to his knees, kneeling at the face of death, burns and blurs his eyesight followed by sound like falling into a void to contrast the sharp note of despicable consciousness resiliently hanging on. Each heartbeat, each pump taunting to burst out of his chest sends bitter bile up his esophagus mixing with his saliva until he pushes it down with a rough swallow.
His legs drag against the cold concrete and clunk down each step, the handrail rickety against his touch and he retracts to his pockets. The cigarette between his chapped lips, with the first cloud of smoke harsh against his heaving lungs, becomes his wicked salvation. Purposeful movements take him on a familiar path down a beaten road lit by the lights from the only noodle stand still open after midnight.
The uncomfortable little plastic red chairs and he instinctively grabs the only one without a wobbly leg, finally able to slump his elbows on the tabletop and breathe in the familiar aroma floating by in little wafts. His fingers tap to a random tune, playfully light, until the quick pull of the cigarette out of his mouth stops him completely as he looks up just in time to watch it being dropped to the ground as it fizzes out weakly. His swollen left eye sags a little further when he leans forward and thrillingly peeks at the hot bowl of noodles just a mere distance from his reach.
Yesung plops down right next to him, a light sigh as he wipes his hands on his dirty apron, and he grabs a fresh towel and dips it in warm water before gently dabbing at the other’s bloody face. Intermittently eating and flinching as he sucks in cold air, the eager smile Hangeng offers is met with a chaste kiss and a harmless shove against the shoulder.
“Why do you look like this?” Yesung asks and his little shoulders sag as he rests his face in the palms of his hands, “Don't do this anymore.”
“I think the other guy’s fists just liked me too much,” Hangeng answers with a smile, dropping a crumbled pile of paper bills onto the table from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I won.”
Yesung reluctantly gathers the money into a neat pile, pausing a second before he looks sideways again nervously, “The other man…is he dead?”
“…I don’t think so,” Hangeng says in a soft voice and the headache comes pounding back again.
“I-I love you,” Yesung utters suddenly because he notices the other’s exhausted grimace and scrambles back to his feet immediately, cleaning up the other chairs and tables for the night pretending to be distracted.
His movements are absent-minded and clumsy, the glass jar hugged to Yesung’s chest comes to a dramatic crash into a million shards against the old concrete road and cascading everywhere. Dollar bills and little coins he picks back up one by one placing them in his apron pockets, glad it’s too late for customers to still be stopping by. There isn’t much to collect, he’s already done when Hangeng starts sweeping up the mess humming a tune as Yesung drops all the money into a new jar.
They both sit down and stare at it, staring hopefully at each other.
-
Today.
Hangeng gets up a bit more sluggishly while his lean body cranks back into motion like an exhausted machine and nudges the other playfully as he helps to push the food cart further down the street to their home.
A shaky light bulb dully illuminates their barren room, the both of them spreading out blankets onto the floor and Yesung starts distractedly brushing his teeth over their one sink staring blankly at the peeling paint on the discolored wall in front of him. He doesn’t even realize the toothbrush is at a standstill just sticking out from his mouth with his arms down at his sides and his mind drifting elsewhere.
Until Hangeng grabs ahold of the toothbrush handle and continues brushing with one hand while his free one rests against the other’s knuckles and lacing their fingers together. Letting out a sheepish laugh, Yesung snaps fully back to reality just in time to take a swallow-full of water from the cup brought to his mouth before spitting it back out. He turns around to face Hangeng, tiny bits of foam peeking out at the corners of his mouth and he flutters his eyes shut as they kiss.
“You taste minty,” Hangeng responses against the other’s lips, pulling back and using his thumb to wipe away the foam with slow swipes.
Yesung’s eyes instead can’t help but focus on the ripped and bloodstained gray sweatshirt before him, his eyebrows furrowing in worry, “Can you let me see?”
Hesitantly, Hangeng takes off his jacket and pulls the layers over his head before making a careful pile on a chair. His back turned around momentarily as he’s doing so and Yesung blanches slightly at the bluish-purple bruises overlapped by angry cuts. Hangeng can feel the other’s reaction already without turning around and his palms slump onto the table top while he exhales the soreness from his body.
Softly placing a small hand on the other’s shoulder blade, Yesung says in a whisper, “Does it hurt a lot?”
“I’m good,” Hangeng grins deceivingly carefree finally turned around, resting his arms comfortably on the other’s hips and bringing them closer together, “Are you doing okay?”
Not wanting to lie or utter insecure words that brings them both down, Yesung leans in closer and kisses the other harder than he means to but he gets an equally strong response in return with his hips pulled completely in so the rough fabrics of their jeans press up enticingly. Hangeng’s forearms hug across Yesung’s lower back underneath his shirt and slide upwards resting parallel to the crevice line along the base of his spine to the edge of his neck. Naturally Yesung raises his arms and allows the top to become a lump casted aside, willingly falling back onto the blankets on the floor pulling the other down with him.
They land with a muted thump and Hangeng slips the palm of his hand along the other’s fleshy stomach tracing across a bellybutton on his way downwards to the front of the pants. Yesung lets out a quick breath, licking a dragging wet tongue drawing a line along the other’s collarbone and touching his cheek fondly against his claimed spot against the nape of Hangeng’s neck. Smushing his lips against taunt skin and continuing his trail, he showers special attention to the intimate spot along the sternum with butterfly kisses feeling the settling sensation of a steady calm breathing above him.
Sidetracked to the left, Yesung sucks on a pinkish nipple until it turns hard in his mouth and whimpers when a firm hand moves under his boxer briefs not even realizing until now that his jeans are already pooled by his ankles. He uses the heels of his feet to kick them the rest of the way off and fumbles an extra second before the other’s pants are also unbuttoned and everything dragged hastily off.
Hissing inwardly, Hangeng relishes their naked bodies stacked on top of each other’s and the constant rub of their growing erections teasing his senses to a mounting anxiety like suffocating adrenaline streamlining through him. The resounding aches all over his limbs dissipates easily to the back of his mind, his hair briefly integrating into the other’s bangs as he dips downwards so their noses are touching and he tips his face to the side so his lips brush against a small chin before encapsulating Yesung’s innocent expression with his mouth and their tongues graze imploringly for each other’s familiar taste.
Hangeng’s grip on the other’s cock firms up and he runs his fingers in slow, tight strokes fondling the head with his thumb each time he moves down while his free hand gropes the blankets until he grabs ahold of a plastic tube. His fingers are thoroughly slickened with pre-cum and he knows Yesung is dangerously close to the edge from the way the other’s peering pleadingly at him through half-lidded eyes, husky grunts vibrating from the back of the throat reaches his ears shooting straight down to his groin causing his cock to throb so much it almost hurts. Squeezing lube into his palm, Hangeng coats himself generously and showers a few kisses on the other’s soft inner thighs before gradually entering the tight hole that willingly accumulates the stretch into a snug embrace.
His thrusts fall into a steady rocking and the tip of his cock already knows the exact spot to slam against that sends rough shivers through the other’s entire body, his hand back to relentlessly rubbing the other’s cock as raspy moans becomes frantically loud and needy. Hangeng’s hips hits harder with each plunge, ravishing in the searing heat trapping him into a tight corner of consuming ecstasy as he chokes out gratified noises continuously even more turned on by the milky liquid squirting out all over his fingers and knuckles as the other shudders with balled-up fists laid out on either side tightly gripping the blankets.
Yesung’s lessening whimpers are still continuing as he eases out from the pounding euphoria of his orgasm and his breathing is still hitched while Hangeng’s next few thrusts causes spasms to spring out like fireworks from his groin expanding outwards through his limbs before crashing back down to his cock again all at once. His cum spilling out as his grunts becomes loud gasps for air trying to catch his breath from the heavy rush crashing through him, the surreal sensation like he’s tingling from head to toe.
He settles down so their sweaty bodies are as together as possible, touching their lips into a lingering kiss morphing into smiles smack dab against each other. They don't care that they’re in a cramped room with peeling walls and a wobbly dull light bulb as they doze off in each other’s arms.
The turtle stares blankly from his container on the table, looking bored. Every freakin’ night.
Fin.